#he would not fucking offer to help light he would 100% kick his ass. i KNOW they wouldn't be able to stand each other

[quietautumn]

this is literally not fucking true if you actually understand a thing about his character other than the fact that he killed people.

[thatesqcrush]

The Request

Rafael Barba x f!reader. CW: somnophilia/sleeping beauty syndrome; CNC (con-non-con); pregnancy; lactation; language; smut. I think that covers it all. ⚠️READ AT YOUR OWN RISK ⛔️

WC: 1.3K

Dedicated to the anon who said my writing sucks and that I was ruining Barba.

**

“Cariño, I don’t know about this.”

You look at your husband, your eyes exhausted and weary. “Rafael, I am forty one weeks pregnant. It is 100° degrees out. I have never been so uncomfortable in my life.”

“If the baby doesn’t come by the weekend, you’ll be induced.” Rafael replied matter-of-factly.

“I don’t want to be induced. That’s not part of the plan.” You sighed irritated as you sat back onto the couch. You raised your swollen feet onto the ottoman.

“And this is?” Rafael asked as he tied his tie.

“It's recommended by the doctor!” You exclaim. “I drank the tea, I ate the spicy food. None of it works, except sex.”

“We haven’t been able to have comfortable sex in the last month or so. I don’t want to hurt you. Or the baby.” Rafael gently explained as he sat next to you and took your hand in his.

You gave him a small smile. “I know that. And you wouldn’t. This is why I want to do this. I trust you. Totally and completely.”

Rafael grimaced. “It’s just in my work…”

You tilted your head. “Amor, I am giving you my very eager and enthusiastic consent. Please fuck me so this baby can come out. It’ll be a good way to book end the pregnancy. Ending how it started.”

Rafael looked at you. You could see the wheels turning in his head. “Let me think about it.”

You clasped your hands together and let out a squeal. “That’s all I ask.”

**

Rafael couldn’t focus at all at work. All day he was off game - he was glad he didn’t have any court appearances. All he could think about was your proposition: to fuck you in hopes that it’ll kick start labor. But it wasn’t just about the fucking. It was to do it while you slept. You figured you’d be more comfortable and relaxed. It was something you had read on one of those ‘moms to be’ boards and the idea had wormed its way into your mind. You were relentless in your pestering.

Rafael rubbed his face and took out his cellphone. He texted you quickly.

[Are you sure you want to do this?]

Three dots appeared and then your reply came through.

[Absolutely]

Rafael took a deep breath before replying back.

[Okay]

**

You wanted to do it organically. Not on a planned evening. You knew if it was planned, you’d be too eager and excited to fall asleep. It was up to Rafael to decide and initiate. He did his research one late evening while you slept soundly beside him.

You had gone to bed even earlier that night, having complained of generally feeling uncomfortable and fatigued. By the time Rafael made it to bed, you were sound asleep. He tried to give you a little shake to see if you would awaken, but instead you just nuzzled into your pillow more. Unlike him, you were a heavy sleeper.

Rafael stripped his clothes, clad just in boxers. He piled them neatly on a chair before climbing into bed. He let out a shiver at the cold air. Even the bed sheets felt cold against his skin. As it had been so hot as of late, you’d been running the air conditioning basically 24-7. He left a table side lamp on. Through the dimmed light, he braved himself to touch your back. You wore one of his worn Harvard shirts. The material was soft and familiar. He garnered more confidence and slipped his hand under, feeling the smooth silk of your skin and then moving it to the front. Rafael used his other hand to free his cock from his boxers. He began to stroke himself, working his fist over his cock. Rafael thought for sure you’d stir when he began to roll and pinch your nipples. Instead you just let out the softest moan.

His cock now hard, Rafael scooted closer to you and began to rut against your ass. His hands began to massage your breasts more fervently before moving down to your thighs. You sighed in your sleep as he massaged your flesh. His hand made its way to the soft nestle of curls, finding your clit. He began to rub in gentle circles, relishing in how wet you were becoming in reaction. His fingers slid through your folds, spreading the wetness that grew. Finding himself now really into this, he grabbed your leg and hoisted it over his hip. Rafael pressed kisses along the nape of your neck and shoulder as he continued to play with your pussy. He reveled in how soft and wet it was becoming, your arousal beginning to drip. His cock was aching, red and needy for you. Pearls of pre-cum dribbled from the head of his cock.

Shifting his hips, Rafael slowly pushed his thick cock into your hot cunt, biting his bottom lip as he bottomed out in a gentle yet firm push. His hands moved back up to your tits, squeezing hard enough that droplets of milk began to leak. He continued messily playing with your breasts as he began to thrust into you. He kept his thrusts gentle and steady, enjoying the way your pussy tightened around him, gripping his length as he pulled out.

“Fuck.” Rafael gritted. He had to use his will to not completely let go. Soft and gentle thrusts were the name of the game. Rafael moved his wet hand to your cunt again, making his fingers more slick with your arousal.

You began to moan again, this time with more encouraging gusto. Rafael realized you must have woken up but he figured he’d just continue with the scene. He knew if he knew you were fully awake, it’d take away from the fantasy.

“Go back to sleep, cariño.” Rafael whispered in your ear as he began to fuck you harder, his hips snapping against your ass. You moaned even more.

Rafael went back to playing with your tits, squeezing harder, with more milk dripping out. All of it felt filthy and taboo and this apparently awoken some side of him that he didn’t know he had. The sounds of wet and skin on skin filled the room. Eventually, Rafael’s breathing grew harder and he gave in to his carnal desperation, fucking you with gusto.

“Rafael, oh fuck!” You cried out, no longer caring that you were fully awake. And neither did Rafael, as he began to rub your clit harder. You let out a cry as you came, you pussy clenching around his cock, milking Rafael for all that he was worth. Rafael let out a deep guttural groan as his slammed into you one, two, and then three more times before stilling. Thick ropes of creamy white cum painted your walls before seeping out where you were both intimately connected.

You turned your head to Rafael’s. You were still laced with sleepiness, but you longed for his lips on yours. Rafael slipped out and turned you, so you were facing him fully. He kissed you, his tongue entangling with yours as his hands went back to your breasts. He kissed his way down before taking one of your tits in his mouth, lapping the sweet milk your body had to offer, while his hand went to your clit, now overstimulated, once more.

You let out a gasp, squeezing your eyes tightly as you came again. Rafael let out a groan as you gushed around his hand, soaking the sheets. Rafael removed his mouth from your breasts and then kissed you brutally hard. You pulled away, your eyes wide. “Rafi - that was my water breaking.”

Rafael’s eyes widened at the realization of your words. He gave you a big grin before pressing a quick kiss on your lips. “Okay, let’s do this.” He helped you out of bed and you went to your closet to change quickly. You slipped a clean shirt on and watched as Rafael scrambled around.

“See mi amor, I told you it would work.”

**

FIN.

[Tags] None.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

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

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

[shesawriter39049]

|PRIVATE SHOW|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

SMUT/LIGHT ANGST

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

WC:5k

WARNINGS: Public sex -ish( A foot-job under the table) dirty talk, teasing, light edging, frontage (kinda), overstimulation, Tae comes in his YSL leather pants, mentions of Oral (Male receiving), Tae is somewhat submissive, whilst also being a little shit. “Baby boy/Good boy” Kink

DNA Era Tae meets 2020 Tae

Tae is her baby and also her Executive Assistant

He just wants to hold her hand tbh

NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

_________________________________________________________

“So” Musing over your cocktail glass “Thoughts on the last place?”

Eyeing the man sitting across from you intently who’s clearly in the holiday spirit. Dressed in a deep red silk button-down, apparently, he’s taken a page out of Jimin’s book considering it’s barely buttoned, to begin with! Honestly, he’d be better off not even wearing one at all at this rate.

Smoky silver locks messily styled out of his face showcasing those bushy yet sculpted brows of his. One of your favorite past times has become watching Tae become more confident as he grows into himself. No longer finding the need to hide behind his long shaggy bangs, though you can’t; lie, you do kinda miss him looking like the puppy he truly is deep down. However this, version of Tae just hits different, your baby boy looks like a whole ass man and you’ll never get over it!

God the things you endlessly wanna do to him…..even after all these years....

You watch Tae sigh almost miserably over a mouthful of lobster mac which seems completely out of place considering the way the dish in question smells…“Honestly?”

Offering a curt nod, encouraging him to continue as you welcome yourself to his plate! The amount of cheese that’s trickling from your fork is actually disrespectful!

“It was cute, I liked how big the lot is, and more importantly how spaced out the spots are! You know how rich people get about people being too close to the damn cars!” Rolling his eyes as if he in he’s excluded from that category and you can’t help but scoff.

“Tae you technically are one of those people at this point. Just like...yesterday actually, you almost ripped Jackson’s balls off for bumping into your rearview mirror but carry on.” Flicking your fork in his direction, ignoring the sharp glare he sent your way in the process.

This time around I think both of his eyes managed to roll in different directions, again, Jimin’s wearing off on him! “Anyway, yeah, I don’t know, I liked the space, the exposed brick beams in the ceiling was cool. Kinda gave it a homey vibe which is fitting….”

You could hear it hanging off his tongue, he sounds very, “meh” about it, so you opt fil in the blank. “Butttt??”

“Butttt, I -It felt like...like I was forcing myself to like it…” Slouching down into his seat, features a little uneasy, as if him not liking the venue was a direct insult to the owner personally! You on the other hand you let out a bated breath that you weren’t even aware was being held, eyes wide shining with relief.

“Oh thank fuck” Hand slamming down absently along the table, “I thought it was just me, and I felt like such an ass too because-”

“They were so sweet” Came in unison, both of you almost cooing as you said it! Hands placed dramatically over your heart as you reclined against your chair.

“So sweet,” Tae parroted in a light pout,”I mean they were literally wearing matching loafers Y/n. Matching” Idly jading a fork into his side salad in a way that’s borderline concerning actually, a tad bit aggressive over there!

” But it just-I don’t know, I guess will always think like those broke college kids at heart” Flashing you a brief glowing smile that you can’t help but return, humming in agreeance.

“Which isn’t a bad thing, per say, the mentality definitely keeps us humbled! But there’s time and place for that attitude and honestly I just wasn’t feelin it! At least not in comparison to the others we’ve seen, it wasn’t fighting the vibe were going for. Regardless of how good the offer is” Shrugging over another mouth full of food and you there’s not much else for you to say because that was your consensus exactly.

Basically, once the two of you showed up, the cute little husband and wife duo offered you a deal which would essentially consist of them renting you the space for next to nothing. In exchange, they’d want you to post a couple of ads via your company and personal social media accounts as promo. Your initial thought outside of just thinking they were utterly adorable was how much money you’d save...but as Tae said, thankfully that’s not really a concern anymore, if you wanted you can get it!

Easily…discounts and barters aside, just a flick of the wrist and it’s yours!

“True, also can we just take a moment to talk about how aesthetically pleasing the Valentine was though?” Tossing your head back with a dramatic groan “I mean fuck you already know the way I feel about industrial spaces, the high, glass ceiling, all the greenery..” Eyes rolling to the back of your head with a slight moan…as you envision the space. Especially how moody and sexy the overall venue would look with thousands of lights cascading from the glass ceilings.

Clearly the venue was doing ....a lot for you right now!

Brow cocked at the blatant...enthusiasm surrounding the location in question “Mmm, well that’s something...interesting to add to the kink list, just when I thought I’d explored every avenue, but apparently not.” Voice low, teasing, head cocked to the side, a shit eating grin plastered along his lips, as he swirls his tongue along the tip of his straw in a way that’s……

“ I guess we’re adding “industrial spaces” to the list. Noted.” Smirking around his drink like the little shit he is!

Right, you may or may not have crossed your legs at the sudden drawl laced within his delivery but not before, kicking his shin with the tip of your heel, “You little shit” Rolling your eyes at the way he dramatically rubs the side of his leg, hitting you with straight puppy dog eyes as he pouts over at you as if you actually caused serious damage!.

Leaning forward a little so you don't have to try as hard to whisper, the notion has your breast essentially sitting on top of the table. Not that they weren’t already on full display in your dress or anything. Hand slipping beneath the table, landing on his kneecap. “What? Suddenly you don’t like a little pain?” Tone blatantly teasing whilst ghosting your nails agonizingly slow up his inner thigh, and his entire body goes rigid at the sensation. Tae’s always been extremely...

“God, your still so sensetive....” You weren’t intending for that to come out in the form of a moan but considering the one that fell from his lips in return...you ain’t mad about it! 100% dialed in to the way his eyes are fluttering, jaw tight, trying his damndest to play it cool, especially once the waitress makes eye contact silently asking if the two of you need anything. “Takes so little Hmm?”’

Flashing him a quick smile, waving her off for the time being, far too focused on another task to entertain anyone else right now!  Only stopping your ministrations once your fingers land right beneath his balls.

“This place is very well lit, I like the hue, it’s casting a good soft-light, especially the way it’s bouncing off your complexion...” Eyes cascading against the ceiling, tone casual, until your eyes drop....

“You’d look so fuckin good, coming for me right now...” The words purr off your tongue, flashing him a cheeky little wink, and poor Taehyung chokes on his martini!

“You know how much you love being watched...I could have you making a mess all over yourself and no one would even know. ” Not even trying to hide the smirk playing on your lips when you can already feel the tension in the room rise. “My own little private show...” Eyes wicked as your fingers wander a little higher, gently pressing your palm down around his dick. Rubbing tauntingly, the touch isn't enough through the thick leather, however it does instantly make his length swell in the confines of his pants! We all know this….underwear is nonexistent in Tae’s world! “Kinda brings me back to our college days...” Teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the mere memory...you getting Tae off whilst in the lecture hall full of 300 plus students. 

Regardless of the deer in headlights look flashing across his face his legs still spread apart, hips bucking forward because well as we just said...baby boy loves being watched. This however, prompts you to once again change positions, now digging your nails into the back of his thighs before letting the tips of your fingers tickle free. Coly bringing them back above surface to take another languid  sip of your drink, tossing a strand of hair over your shoulder.

Ya know, I can’t say you’re surprised by his reaction, baby boy can dish it but sure can’t take it, neck and chest flushing to rival his shirt! Banging on his sternum in an attempt to reroute the liquor burning his lungs.

“Jesus-fuc-Y/n!” You have the nerve to hum inquisitively, only this time for his sanity he humors you! “Can you like not go from asulting me to-” Looking over his shoulder before dropping his voice down to a whisper “Stroking my dick, and offering to get me off under the table, all in the span of a nanosecond!?” The plea hissed through clenched teeth but the complaint was half hearted at most! Well aware his dicks already throbbing in his pants at the thought alone! “Fuck me” Sucking in a harsh breath, as he raked his fingers through his scalp.

“Well…” Tonguing at your inner cheek, eyes fluttering away as if you were in deep thought… “In my defense you kinda started it, bringing up my kink list like I don’t own a whole ass porn company!” Propping your chin on your palm, gaze locked and loaded “Like I wasn’t thinking about tainting that sweet innocent couple by letting them watch as I dropped to my knees, letting you fuc-”

“Y/n!” He actually attempts to sound almost applauded, like he doesn’t love how absolutely filthy your mouth is. However there’s a silent little “please” playing on his tongue, no matter how threatening he tried to sound.

You giggled, straight up giggled, reclining in your seat, amused, and somewhat satisfied so you let him be, for the time being anyway. Though you may have eaten your angel hair pasta in a very obscene manner, every now and then you’d sinfully suck the noodles through your overly glossed lips! However, if he dared to clock you on it you’d just simply note that it was your way of not messing up your makeup….

The two of you finish your lunch in comfortable silence, making small talk here and there, a mixture of work and bullshit until Tae’s phone goes off with a couple text notifications.

A low hum rattling in the back of his throat as he eyes the message from Hoseok. Subconsciously Tae reaches across the table, intertwining your fingers before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. Grazing them with his lips casually as he scrolls through his phone.

“Alright  baby, so, I have a list ready, we have a couple brands that wanna work with us for the party. Seoks already narrowed it down to the ones that are actually worth discussing however-“

Honestly, it took both of you a minute to even realize what was going on, the skinship was second nature at this point. It wasn’t until his thumb grazed over your wedding band that the notion even resonated! Tae and yourself were a good two drinks in, feelin all warm and fuzzy and got caught up in the moment! Temporarily forgetting that you were in the middle of a restaurant in Downtown LA! Forgetting that the Kim currently caressing your knuckles and calling you baby is not the one you're technically married to! It may seem minor in retrospect, but you’ve always tried to stop yourselves from getting comfortable, with being comfortable in certain locations if that makes sense! You slip up one to many times and the next thing you know it happening in the office or on the red carpet!

Taehyung’s eyes grow almost comically wide, straight panic flashes over those big brown orbs of his and your heart sinks as you watch his head whip around, checking to make sure no one caught the interaction. It was almost painful how quickly he disconnected from you as his entire face dropped and no, just no!

“Hey...hey no it’s fine, it’s like 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! Not to mention we’re tucked in a booth in the corner ,we’re good, nobody heard or saw you…” Voice calm and quiet, trying to come off comforting, flashing him a weary smile. Reaching across the table to thumb at his palm, and it would be a lie to say you didn't also check over your shoulder before hand as well’

A dry almost bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he flinches away, tossing the fork down on his plate sliding it halfway across the table indicating he is more than done eating. Flicking the bridge of his nose with his index finger, jaw twitching, “Yeah, lucky me huh? I actually got to hold your hand for all of two seconds before we realized I’m techionally not allowed to do that unless were in fuckin I don’t know Alaska!” 

He’s agitated, and with every right to be, even if he is being a little dramatic. Thankfully he’s keeping his voice low, but you can feel how tight his throat is, the amount of grit laced within his tenor has your eyes bugging out of there socket.

“Bab- “ It was a reflex, whenever he’s upset it’s just what falls from your lips, and he gives you a look, almost as if to say “How fucking dare you” ! The level of hurt the pet name just rendered within his eyes is- 

Eyes sharp, brows furrowed “Noo, nooo, we literally just went through this. That’s not the way it works for us in this kinda setting” Flailing his arms around to reference the restaurant. “Wrong Kim” Well damn. “So it's Tae in public remember!?” Brow quirked accusingly, he’s abating this entire situation, almost like he wants you to snap, a second away from whisper yelling! “ Or maybe I should say Taehyung, hell  just use my full government while your at it. Let’s make it real impersonal, Mr. Kim maybe?” Head cocked to the side as if he’s being genuine and not a total smartass right now. 

You-he’s ...hurt, and you get that, hell you respect that, but Lunch at 71 Above is not the time or place for this conversation. You’re trying to approach this on a more rational level, however the condescending delivery is making it hard, and your only human. Eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even catch yourself and that little gesture seems to be what officially set him off!

You can physically see the tension within his face... “I’m gonna go get some air, I might actually call a Uber or somethin,.” The words trailed off his lips low in mumbled but clear enough to be heard because that’s ultimately what he wanted to begin with. 

There was something in his eyes you couldn’t read, a combination of anger/hurt mixed another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint! But whatever it is, you fuckin hated it! Throat running painfully dry as watch him slide his chair out and even though realistically you know at max he’s headed home...Still the gesture alone is gut wrenching because you know this runs deeper than just this situation!

“Tae” His name leaves your throat as more of a warning, reaching up to take an almost possessive grip on his wrist. Fingertips landing on the edge of his Cartier bracelet, the one you're both wearing actually, same arm and all!

A deep labored breath shutters from his chest at the contact, thighs feelin like a newborn fawn, gaze hesitantly meeting yours. “Tae, baby” Daring to use the endearment again regardless of your current surroundings “Sit back down so I can order us dessert and we can discuss whatever you want...just-please” The ending whisked off your tongue so faint your almost wondering if he even heard you!

Taehyung narrows his eyes, teeth clenched, tongue nudging his inner cheek! “I’m not really in the mood for cake right now Y/n. To be honest I just wanna leave” You know he’s aiming for dry but instead he lands somewhere around defeated , which makes it even worse. You’re both well aware this is not truly about cake, it’s about his constant need to run away from shit!

Sliding your fingers down his wrist, interlocking your fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. Eyes locked with his “Then you can get whatever you want, but I need you to just be here right now, I really, really need you to sit here, and just breathe through this with me.”

He’s know what your really asking is for him not to run away for once!

A faint little “Whatever” Leaves his lips and then he’s dead silent, silent as he slides his chair out, remaining as such for what feels like hours, and it has your heart beating painfully hard against your ribcage. It’s almost like he’s not even here, eyes fixated on some random painting on the opposite side of the restaurant, chewing at his inner cheek until....

“I’m sorry…” He admits after a baited breath, stroking your palm with his thumb gently, you can see him working over his thought’s in his head before speaking. ”I can’t - fuck I never know when I’m going to get all in my feels with shit like this, sometimes it just sucks harder than others I guess” The curt little shrug that leaves his shoulders let’s you know how uncomfortable he is, Tae’s overall persona suddenly seems mounds smaller in this moment. Anxiously stroking the back of his own neck “But....I shouldn't have come at you like that! That was fucked on my behalf and for that I’m truly am sorry ! This isn't all on you, or Joon we all-”Gazing over his shoulder before continuing “There’s just- there’s a lot, we have families and it’s just, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, ...”

Dropping his voice a little lower “I just fuckin love you” There’s a timid smile playing on his lips “and if the offer still stands I would really fuckin like chocolate cake…”

You actually snort, that’s your first instinct because only Tae, but the plus is it lightens the mood  immensely! The sudden outburst triggers that full boxy grin to come into play and god your so damn  enamored by this man it’s actually sad. Bringing his knuckles up to your mouth, grazing them past your lips like he did yours moments prior. “I love you too, and chocolate cake sounds fuckin amazing, and liquor, we need new drinks, actually we need an entire bottle! ” You laugh and then so does Tae, suddenly your holding hands and laughing together and everything else just seems so miniscule in the moment.

~~~~~

So, here’s the thing...being a CEO of one of the top Adult film entertainment companies is not on the same level as like..I don’t know….

Owning a high-end clothing company, or being a reality star or something. Your field is praised just as highly as it is tabooed, so with that being said, it’s not like your the top topic on E-news, or on Business Digest. You still have a strong sense of normality, point blank you’re not that important. It’s not as common for outsiders to know the high rollers within the porn industry the way it is in other fields!

However there's another avenue to factor in where the 7 of you are concerned, and that’s the world of social media, and that’s a completely different world entirely! One that’s heavily intertwined in your state in particular, living playing, and working in LA….I mean let’s get real, shit not normal here, by any means!

You’re a 26-year-old wealthy CEO, that goes to work in a Ferrari, cute little bodycons, Louboutin's, and Chanel bags! Your executive assistant is Tae for fucks sake, he looks like a model his damn self , on the surface your life is an aesthetically pleasing wet dream. An influencer without even trying for the title, if your 2.7 million followers are at all telling! So in the public eye, especially when out in Downtown LA..you try to be discreet.

Just last week Jimin was hanging all over you while walking through Saks and one of your mutual followers stopped to ask for a picture. Again this isn’t a daily occurrence, you’re not comparing yourself to Rhianna, but it’s why you do move with a slight air of caution when in your city! You literally live in a place where people become famous for running into walls, nevertheless owning their own business!

The world knows you’re married to Namjoon, and to be honest there’s numerous reasons the other aspect of your dynamic stays hidden! More than just the obvious….

However there’s been rumors circulating over the years, or at least now that Hollywood’s decided you hold some relevance! Ones pertaining your your sexuality, typically the tabloids assuming it, insulating your swingers, or that Namjoon’s bi.  A Lot of these narratives circle back from your college days though, old classmates trying to slip tea to the media. Stories of when you could go to a party and it didn’t matter if you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Yoongi at the same damn time! Not to mention the dark side of social media where nothing ever truly dies, so yeah there are some questionable photos floating around. Luckily nothing recent enough to truly add fuel to the fire but you know deep down it’s only a matter of time!

One could argue it adds allure to the overall dynamic, especially considering your line of work, and maybe it wouldn’t matter if the boys were just casual thirds...but they’re not! They’re so much more than that and that’s what makes this hard, because well in laymen’s terms...people just fucking suck! So as heartbreaking as it is, where your other boys are concerned, in the public eye at least your “relationship” holds a strong air of mystery!

It’s the little things ya know? Like now for example, the fact that he could've easily gotten a foot job under the table but has to walk on eggshells about holding your hand at times! Shit just sucks sometimes, there’s no other way around it!

~~~~~~~

The two of you don’t really talk much until the dessert comes, more drinks and a bottle is in fact ordered as well! The silence felt a little more bearable this time around, busying yourselves on your phones. A very minor but significant change, is the fact that you still haven’t let go of his hand, even once the waitress returns. The simple notion has his entire dementor shifting! Fingers still tightly bound together and your chest flutters seeing the way he flushes almost bashfully at such minor PDA! Like the two of you didn’t hook up in the back of a club in London two months ago! Like you literally weren’t palming him under the table! Yet here he is blushing at openly holding your hand!

So fuckin cute!

Eventually two pieces of molten chocolate crepe cake gets brought over and holy fuck! Both moaning in unison as the pastry hits the table...

“Oh my goddd, we have to take a piece home for Jin, the like...convince him to learn how to make it!” You watch Tae’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he laces his lips around the fork! Groaning out in agreeance once the mixtures of pure sin hit his tongue.

“K...now back to , these sponsors...” Prompting over a mouth full of cake, not that you wouldn’t love to sit here and chill all day but you do have a 4pm conference call!

You watch as Tae glances down at your intertwined fingers, and his fork....realizing ones gotta go so he can pick up his phone and you physically coo back at him, melting into your set once he opts to drop the fork instead of your hand. Purposely avoiding your glance once he noticed the look on your face, nose scrunched and all!

“Right, so Uber reached out, more specifically Uber Luxxe, looking to send us 4 cars of our choice in exchange for a couple post. Spread out between IG, Twitter and Snap, I’m personally all for this one. The contract doesn’t seem excessive and I like that the post won’t feel forced! I mean realistically we were going to hire a driving service regardless! However something to also consider is our lack of filter when drinking! I mean...”Flailing his phone between the two of you as if to give an example, obviously referencing the little slip up moments prior. At least he can joke about it a little “So realistically, would we feel more comfortable with a private car service where there’s a contract involved as opposed to just some random?”

Tae just went full EA, out of nowhere and honestly ...

You blinked at him, almost dazed, fork halfway to his mouth because, what?! . “You sound so professional right now, it’s so fuckin hot.”

Tae choked on nothing but straight air before blushing profusely. “Baby-I mean-Y-“

You didn’t even flinch, continuing, unperturbed. “Nah, actually I think I’m in the mood to be baby right now!” Eying him wickedly “Your jaw just gets really tight, and your voice gets all low and raspy! It happens during meetings too, it’s really fuckin sexy! Reminds me of the way you sound when your lips are pressed into the side of my neck when we fuck.” It's just the casualness of it all, you sound like your ordering another appetizer and Tae’s about to choke on his dessert. 

The grip he has on your hand is almost painful right now, “But don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here writing out my next script in my head, carry on. What rental service did you have in mind? Or did someone already reach out as well?”

It’s the way you just went from talking about Tae, being balls deep to sponsorships all in the span of a comma! In the words of your best friend you are pure chaos.....

Tae groans  head hanging in defeat and your lips curl into a smirk, brow quirked in his direction.

“It’s the way I hate it here sometimes...” Snatching his hand away to jab his fork into the neglected pastry.

“Ah huh” You roll your eyes crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Right, again let’s not act like you didin’t start this, both here and at the venue.” Leaning over the table again licking your lips “Don’t act like you weren’t eye fucking me the entire time, or the way you’d accidentally brush against me as we walked through the building. You’ve been practically begging for it all day.”

Tae just stares back at you, mind momentarily blank, stomach shifting into knots, letting the fork drop from those delicate fingers of his! Mouth opening and closing like a fish straight outta water...

“Did you think about it too? The acoustics in that place were fuckin insane, the way it would just echo through as you made me cum would just- fuck”  You continued adding that lethal little purr back into your voice! “Or even better the way you’d sound, you don’t even know how bad I wanted to drop-“

“Y/n”

“Baby.” Phrasing the word borderline as a threat “Would you have liked that baby boy?” Cocking your head to the side, tongue teasing your bottom lip “Me on my knees for you looking up at you all pretty, letting you hold my hair and fuck my throat until you came straight into my mouth?”

Speaking of mouths' your just straight fuckin-mayhem ...and it’s making Taehyung’s brain feel like it’s melting through his ears! But god should we be surprised though?

It’s never taken much with you....

You’ve always been just what he needs and a little bit more than he can take all in one! You haven’t even touched him yet and he feels a moan creeping up his throat! Especially as he watches you swirl the tip of your tongue over the whipped cream on the edge of your fork, sucking it between your overly glossed lips in the most obscene manner.

Eyes locked and loaded, a second away from drooling, “Fuck, yeah,” He stutters breath hitching on his lungs, heat coursing through his skin. Tae’s veins literally feel like they’re on fire, subtly trying to shift in his seat to readjust himself! Glancing subconsciously out of his peripheral, the restaurant still chill and half empty. The waitress on the opposite end of the room attending to another couple!

“You always look so damn good with my cock down your throat, and my cum on your tounge. God, especially when I wrap my hand around your throat and I can feel you swallowing down around my-” Your tongue’s swirling all over this damn fork, and he can feel every flick your tongue against his dick, and it’s just...fuck!  Not to mention once you accidently spilled some whipped cream on your lips, which you took your time licking off as well.  “Jesus-Fuck, Y/n!!” Taehyung’s voice is dripping with arousal, and you already know he’s leaking all over the place.

“Yeah?” Humming around the form before setting it to the side “ You like the way I look when I’m chocking on your cock?” These questions are all rhetorical, your an ass “Or how about when I get a little messy because I can’t fit it all in my mouth?” Your eyes darken, words coming out over low gasps of air, almost as if your just as aroused as he is and that’s because you are!

“Your always such a good boy for me, so helpful too holding my hair back, guiding my mouth until you hit the back of my throat...holding me in place until I gag. You know how much I love when you get rough with me ..” Tae feels the sole of your red buttons tease up his thigh, shifting between his legs. The transition was so damn smooth it catches him off guard, instinctively wanting to push away but instead...

“You’d be loud for me too wouldn’t you? Show them how good you look falling apart for me, how good you look when you come down my throat....The way your eyes roll-”

“Holy-fuck Baby” Aggressively running his palms over his face until it’s matching his shirt “Please don’t do this to me right, now, if your gonna give it to me then fuckin let me have it but I cant-.”

You can’t help but smile back at him, so fond it almost seems out of place in the moment. “I’ll give you whatever you want Tae...you know this. You just gotta promise you’ll be good for me, we can’t draw-”

“I’m always good” He damn near growled at you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and well, who were you to deny Tae of what he wants!?Gently pressing your foot at the base of his cock, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips upon feeling that your boys already fully hard.

It’s the way the two of you are just casually in one of LA’s boujeiest restaurants and your deadass about to give him a foot job in Louboutin’s! Yup, your life had turned into a porno,  you’ve officially made it!

“Kay, so back to that list of sponsors, first off I completely agree, as much as I love our contact at Uber I’d prefer an actual car service for something like that.” Here you go again the queen of the switch up, you’re back to discussing work yet there’s still a slight moan in your tenor. Breathy and light and Tae feels like all the airs being sucked from his lungs.

Tae shifts, spreading his thighs even further, shuddering out a bated breath as you point your toe, dragging it up and down! It’s a peep-toe so that alone allows you a little more flexibility! Pressure intentionally light so it’s just enough to have him on the brink of begging! But instead of doing so, he picks up his phone, hands shaky and all and continue doing his job as requested!

“Right..” Clearing his throat not sure why he currently sounds like he’s going through puberty again but K...  “I’ll let Hobi know, maybe we can do something we’re we use them while planning this party or something! Since you vetoed a party planner will have a lot more running around to do! Realistically outside of Joon and Jin we all have coupes anyway...so it’s not like we can carry much!”

Mmm, always the innovator, even when all the blood and airs being rushed to his dick! You feel him try and slide forward, chasing after the stimulation.

“Ohhh, I really like that, and like you said it still feels somewhat organic because realistically our cars aren’t efficient for something like that”  You press down harder against his cock almost as a reward “Good boy, what’s next?” Nodding towards his phone and it takes every ounce of self control he had to swallow down the moan laying on his tongue.

Eyes struggling to stay ajar as you continuously rub your foot up and down his length. Now applying more prominent pressure with the ball of your feet! Movement stealth from the waist up so you don’t draw attraction to yourself.

“Tae Tae” The nickname falls from your lips singsong like, and far too innocent for the demon seed you are. “Next?”

He doesn't even know what to really do except follow instructions, so he just nods, scrolling through his phone. “There was also a couple brands wanted to oh fuck-“ Gasping as you pick up your pace, damn near dropping his phone into the plate beneath him.

Face splitting into an amused grin, a hint of something wicked playing on your lips. Eyes gleaming with mischief, you watch those long, delicate fingers flex, clearly struggling this time around to bite back the moan like he needs to! Hands shaking as your continue working him at a merciless pace. Rubbing faster, harder, utilizing the rounded point on the head of your heel to press right against what your assuming is Tae’s tip by the way he shudders. Thighs shaking as he grips the edge of the table for dear life!

“Oh my godddd” Tae manages to just mouth the words as opposed to screaming them the way he desperately wants too. Tugging on his own scalp, trying to just do something to get himself busy!

“You fuckin love this....” It’s not even a question, more of a consensus!

Your eyes haven’t left his once, watching intently as you swirl your tongue around the straw before taking a sip. Moaning around it because well ya know, the drinks just that damn good apparently.

God his skin feels like it’s on fire, every stroke of your foot has him feeling like he’s coming undone!

He’s trying to focus, on his surroundings, this damn list everything but he can’t he just fucking can’t! Thankfully it’s you, and he trust you with everything he has, so his subconscious is somewhat at ease with all of this because he knows you got him!

“Yeah,fuck yeah you already know you can do anything to me” He states plainly, the most stable his voice has sounded in god knows when “Whatever you want” Gaze heavy through hooded lashes, looking straight at you with steady sinful eyes.

“Mmm, and always want it don’t you baby? Always...:”

He bites back a moan nodding, and then his phone rings, of course his phone fucking rings and it’s coming from the office because why the fuck not?!

“Answer” The command was simple, clearly no room for debate and hs eyes go wide,

“Baby” Complaining with a hint of a whine in his voice and when you don’t seem to give a damn....

“Yeah?”Jaw tight, nostrils flared as he picks up the phone. Adrenaline flies through his veins, pressure building in his gut as you relentlessly keep your pace intact! Pressing harder and deeper into all the right places until he’s coughing around Moans to try and cover it up!

Dropping his head slightly, propping it on his elbow as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “ Welp, That's where it would be so if you don’t see any were out, email me a list and I’ll make a Amazon-“

Taehyung’s chest heaves painfully tight, breathing becoming more erratic with every stroke and yes clearly there’s a strong voyeurism kink within this man! So as crazy as it may sound , the combination of the restaurant, and this phone call ?!

Yeah, he’s not gonna last!

Slouching down completely against the back of the booth, thighs spreading to full capacity. Fingers tangled in his Smokey locks holding his bangs out of his face. Eyes shut , jaw tight, neck slightly reclined, though to the naked eye he’d just appear to be on a very unpleasant phone call! When in all actually he’s finally just letting himself fall apart beneath your touch!

Eyes fluttering open just enough to glance down at you in a way that had you feeling like you could come right with him. Your gaze is Just as heavy as his, lips darting out to wet your lips though your throats suddenly what’s running dry!

Tae’s lips part slightly, though he’s falling apart he’s giving it right back to you. Hitting you with those sinfully needy fuck me eyes! The same ones you see when your riding and edging him until he’s coming tenfold! His breathing comes stagnate every time your foot moves and Tae finds himself gnawing down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans sliding up his chest! You can tell who's on the other end now, it’s the new secretary Alanna, and she legitimately is still getting her footing! Which is the only reason Tae is even entertaining the call, well one of the reasons!

You notice Tae’s breathing is starting to even out a little almost as if he’s gained some of his self control back and we don’t support that in this household.  So you proceed to dig your foot right into the head of his cock and he straight wheezes! Body jerking off the wall and all ...

“No, I’m, fuck-“ There’s a moan that finally falls freely off his tongue that only barley seems acceptable because he in fact just choked! Voice coming out what feels like a octave lower and huskier , poor Alanna! “Yeah i'm good sorry , food just went down the wrong pipe.” He can barely think straight but he knows he needs to close this up “Hey look will be back within the hour and will sort it out then alright?”

I don’t even think he even waited for her to respond before hanging up and literally throwing his phone across the table! Gucci case and all.

“Everything okay? ?” Voice low and teasing, he knows you're technically asking about the office but your timing sucks ass!

“Fuck you” Falls off his lips in a barley audible moan, so consumed as his orgasm builds in the pit of his stomach! Eyes still struggling to stay open mouth, mouth falling slack, if your were in your right mind you’d tell him to pull it together alittle! Now that he’s off the phone, he either looks like he’s getting a foot job, or like he’s high on meth! Neither are appealing to the GP! God, he must look utterly ridiculous right now, thankfully he’s shifted against the booth so he’s facing a wall as opposed to other guest!

“Mm, my pretty baby’s close yeah?” Watching how heavily his throat bobs as he swallows, Tae’s leaking precum all over the damn place, so, close hips gently rocking into your foot as discreetly as possible, growing more desperate by the second. Fuck he needs to come, he needs to!

“Yeah baby please don’t- fuck” God he sounds so good, so needy and pliant and fuck!  

“I got you...” At that you actually kick your shoe off, moving back to press down even harder, rubbing and rubbing forcing Tae to attempt to grab his drink in attempts to muzzle himself. However his hands are shaking too hard and  he almost knocks it over!

“God baby I’m-“

“Be a good boy for me”

And he is, coming with a shuddering breath, under the steady pressure of your foot as his release tears through his veins. Dropping his to the table as subtly as possible(Hell maybe people will think he’s tipsy or not feeling well), thighs shaking, chest heaving painfully hard. He’s not completely silently but he does a lot better than expected, a low groan manages to slip past his lips.

“Good boy” The praise rolls off your tongue and goes straight to his dick, as if he needed anymore stimulation there. Another faint whimper falls off his lips until he’s drooling all over the table. Not even realizing initially, that his hips were still grinding into you until he’s hissing from oversensitivity! The force of his orgasm has Taehyung drawing straight blanks, hearing nothing but white nose rustling in the background!

Also, I don’t know what that says about Tae as a person but he’s not even remotely humiliated! The only thing that he’s about to regret once his mind's less foggy is how absolutely drenched his YSL leather pants are!

So busy trying to get his breathing back in check as he comes down from his high, he completely missed the way you’d signaled to the server. Calmly asking for her  to add 8 more slices of cake to go, and bring the bill over!

His face is flushed, his pants feel gross as hell but above everything else he feels so damn good! Reaching down to still your foot, gently massaging the top as his eyes finally flutter open! Vision still a little hazy as he looks back at you with a dazed smile, and your gazing back at him with so much fondness that the first thing that slurs off his lips in a whisper is....

“I fuckin love you!”

Flashing him a wink in return as you make eye contact with your servers whose letting you know she’ll be over in a moment. Keeping your foot stationary for a moment, enjoying the well deserved foot massage. Occasionally flexing your toes to “accidentally brush against his dick. Giggling around your drink every time he'd hiss and jerk away!

This entire lunch situation was a damn mess, and high key reckless but, the blissed out smile written all over his face is more than worth it. Where just ugh...not gonna tell the boys about this!

“Love you too Tae”

~~~~~~~~~

Everything from that moment on kind of feels like a blur honestly, up until the two of you sliding into your car and before you can even get yourself settled he’s on you! Yanking you out of your seat and into his lap before you can even put your seatbelt on which obviously is not ideal this is a sports car after all but you don’t dare complain! Taehyung’s far from shy with his wants, griping the back of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair as he presses your lips together! He doesn’t try to ease you into it either It’s hard, hungry, desperate and overtly needy! Forcing both of you to huff out a staggered breath through your nose to even keep up! You breathe him in, and he breathes you out, it’s all open mouthed, and heady, an obscene amount of moans rolling off your tongues. Reclining your jaw, giving him free reign to explore your mouth. Tongue rolling against your slick and languid with years of finesse between the two of you. No matter how hard he’s kissing you it still doesn’t feel rushed, its deep, borderline sensual actually!

Tae pulls back just enough to nip at your bottom lip, dragging his across your jaw and down the side of your neck! Licking sucking and biting, along your skin, moaning at the way you arch and grind your hips into every touch! The two of you carry on like that until there’s suddenly something thumbing in the back of your throat!

“Hey..” There's a slight sternness within your voice that has him instantly trying to snap out of his postcoital haze. Stroking the hinge of his jaw “You know, how much I love you right? And if, we need to all sit down a re-”

Cutting you off with the smooth glide of his lips pulling you into a kiss that’s a slower, less needy, there’s no ulterior motive, Tae just wants to feel you “Nah, I don't wanna change anything sometimes- I just want-”

“I know...” Because you do, pressing your forehead to his, not even kissing just letting your breaths melt as one. Massaging his scalp gently, he already looks like he’s a second away from passing out! Pondering if maybe the two of you should switch places...

“Promise you’ll let me take care of you later” Tae nuzzles against the side of your face like a puppy wanting his ears scratched! Believe it or not he wasn’t always such a selfless lover, not until he found you guys! Now it’s almost like his orgasms feel incomplete if he’s the only one coming once it’s all said and done!

“You can do whatever you want to me Tae, you know this.” Placing a couple lingering kisses on those pouty lips of his before hesitantly shuffling into the passengers seat. Transfixed on the way he slips back into his lane, fixing his hair, pulling out his oversized cat eye frames to rest on the bridge of his nose. One hand on the wheel the other finding there home on your thigh. Noting the slight discomfort as he shifts in his seat, no doubt due to the fact that well, he just came in his pants.

“How about..” Leaning over to place a open mouth kiss right beneath is ear, digging your nails into his thigh until he moans.  “ I clean you up a little on the drive, and we pit stop at mine, and we drop you off first so you can shower and chill. Then me and Joon will come back and crawl into bed with you after were done for the day..”

“Am I being given the rest of the day off Mrs. Kim?” You can already hear the smirk in his voice without even looking...

“Yes Mr. Kim that would be correct....” Already working the zipper before he can even respond because you already know how this is about to pan out...

___________________

Hi my babies, first off IDK where this came from, I also wouldn’t consider it my best, but it was the first thing I’ve written in like 6 months which felt good. This was supposed to be up back in December I had a couple holiday prompts for the series that I never got around to completing ! But If you enjoyed show this some love and come talk to me!

Love always,

Rocki

[rattlerinthewheel]

Beast of Our Behaviors: Scud/OMC

Scud and a friend hang out like old times.

For a prompt request by @pandoratriestowritestuff: 9) "I don't care how good it feels, you'd better not cum until I tell you to" and 13) "Touch yourself for me", taken from @palettes-and-prompts’ 100 Smut Dialogue Prompts.

Fic title is a song from The Crystal Method.

Chapter title is lyrics from TCM and Bubba Sparxxx’s PHDream, which is what Scud has playing when he meets Whistler.

- - -

"Old man, fuckin’ prick. Ain’t even around yet and he’s pissing me off. 'He’d do this, he’d do that.' Bullshit."

Something about one of his bosses not being around, and they’re looking for him, Marley thinks. He isn’t sure, he’s been zoning in and out, letting Josh vent.

Marley lets his head go ragdoll-limp and flop on the lump of beanbag his weight’s rearranged. Just getting a hazy picture of dark shapes, so he blinks, and then he can make out a pair of pacing red denim legs. They’re baggy and hide the feet, except for the toes of the white socks. The only bright thing in the studio, with the lights off, except the crummy TV playing some DVD the guy on the street said was popular overseas (didn’t tell him it wasn’t in English, the asswipe, so it’s reduced to background noise rather than entertainment).

The pacing halts, blocking half of the yellow-haired chatterbox, and a sigh freshens the earthy reek that was just beginning to fade. He pulls it in, a deep inhale, like he isn’t high enough already. Not like second-hand does much for him.

Any kind of it. Emotions included, which is why he ignores the grumbling and reaches out, fingers wavering because his world’s inverted, to snag the hem of the pants. "Jus’ tell him to fuck off, then."

The denim kicks free. Marley goes for it again, getting a better grip, ignoring the, "Quit bein’ an ass," as the denim kicks again but can’t get loose.

"Point’a you coming over if you’re just gonna bitch?" Marley asks. Something in his neck aches as he lifts his head to look up at the face that owns the denim he’s latched on to. "Thought we were gonna do shit."

"We always do shit," chapped lips huff.

Marley licks his own. Inspired, forgetting about the denim, he fumbles off his bean bag and drops to his haunches in front of his mini fridge. Bristling with anything a stoner could want (well, the shit that doesn’t need to be cold is piled on top) but all he goes for is a soda. He thinks he read something once about it dehydrating more than doing him any good, but he’s pretty sure that’s bullshit. It’s cold going down and wets his lips, how couldn’t a drink hydrate?

Government bullshit.

But when Marley turns around, his seat’s been stolen. He doesn’t mind the view it gets him: Josh, splayed out across the chair, an angry starfish. His joint’s in one hand, sagging in a half-assed pinch between his middle and ring finger, and Marley would worry about the carpet catching if he wasn’t drawn to the point where those sprawled legs lead.

Haven’t done shit yet, might as well, so he takes one big swig of his soda, jams it up on top of the fridge between two bags of chips, and pounces—if crawling over on his hands and knees and pawing at the practically-offered bulge could be considered a pounce. A stoner’s pounce, he decides: lazy and slow.

"Mm, thought you’d never," Josh hums, and Marley scoffs and elbows his thigh.

"Been tryin’," Marley grumbles as he pries away the zipper, then the boxers beneath, to get at the stiffy that’s just beginning to take. It’s easy to pull it out, get the foreskin down, and he gets in three slow pumps on his own before Josh starts to arch into his hand. "So now you wanna."

"Man," Josh pants, somehow going boneless and tense at the same time: his limbs melt while his body goes rigid. It gives Marley something to work against, and the sigh a slower pump earns puffs the hit Josh takes up into the stuffy apartment air.

"Gimme," Marley tells him, thrusts stumbling as he reaches for the joint with his free hand.

The end’s bitten and wet but he gets his lungs filled with earthy smoke anyway, and he forces them to hold it longer than he usually would’ve. When Marley does let it go he’s dizzy, and he wavers on his knees and has to grab one of Josh’s thighs.

The joint sticks out between his fingers, wagging with him, and Josh hisses as it bobs dangerously close to his cock. "Watch it."

Marley giggles as Josh reaches for the joint for another hit. It’s a brief fight, because Marley knows Josh was hogging it way too damn much and Josh doesn’t want to interrupt the hand job. In the end he’s got the joint back in his mouth, and he’s not a starfish anymore, propped up on his elbows so he can watch. Marley doesn’t mind an audience, so he gives Josh a show.

"Fuck," comes on the heels of his thumb swirling around the head, then his palm taking its place so his fingers can drape down and stroke up. That doesn’t get as much of a reaction, so Marley goes back to his first grip. The firm, sluggish stroke down to the base mashes his hand into the blonde curls springing around it.

Josh bucks his hips again, and Marley freezes, near the tip this time. "Behave," he teases.

Blue eyes lock onto brown and Josh growls, "Y’want me to do you after? Keep goin’."

Marley giggles again, a true high giggle, as Josh tugs him forward so he’s close enough to kiss. It’s awkward, the joint getting shoved to the corner of Josh’s mouth, singing their cheeks. But it’s good, because that means Marley gets a mouthful of earthy smoke on top of the sugar of the donuts they scarfed down earlier.

Josh’s cock twitches in his grip when he leans forward enough that his own stiffy, clothed, bumps it. "Uh uh, you ain’t finishing unless I say."

And Josh snorts at that, and Marley can’t keep his composure. He outright laughs and topples onto the stoner under him, kissing him harder, forgetting about the hand job. Josh doesn’t, grinding under him, which reminds Marley that yeah, right, he’s got one too. Funny how weed can make him forget that. It aches, like he’s going to explode right there, now that he remembers.

"Touch yourself," Josh pants as Marley’s rucking up his band shirt. It’s awkward, with how he’s straddling Josh, his legs kind of holding him and kind of not. Too much distance, the bean bag and body puts between the floor and his hips.

Marley’s too busy running his fingers over the scars webbing the exposed belly to pay attention; a pinch to his hip makes him jump, and he’s scrambling for his own fly as Josh watches, smoke fogging his face, but Marley can still see the tongue poking out in the corner that means he’s concentrating.

"Cute," Josh teases as Marley gets his jeans down as much as he can while keeping his position—because right, his zipper’s busted, damn—but pauses to scowl. "What? They are."

Marley scoffs and parts his boxers briefs—ignoring the red, yellow, and green zig zags; so what if they’re stoner colors, they were a gag gift someone got him, they fit, so why not use ‘em?—and groans when he plants one hand on Josh’s shoulder to brace himself and starts to stroke. Easy to ignore, when he wasn’t getting too much stimulation; but now, shit, he’s shaking and greedy and gladly lets Josh paw at him to help.

They get in their scuffles, know how to fight, but it’s not too often they resort to it; not now, either, but the rough pets make Marley shudder, the lack of lube, the tugs that rut his balls against Josh’s pinned shaft under him. They’re both getting off, this way.

"Not till I say so," he hums when he feels it—pre-cum, not his, making a damp spot on the thigh of his boxer briefs.

Josh hisses, holding out. Marley gasps as Josh’s other hand clamps onto the back of his neck, holding him down so Josh can buck his hips up. Josh’s cock slides along his thigh, up onto his hip, and Marley angles them down to trap the rut.

The carpet’s concrete compared to the bean bag as Josh flips them. "What was that about not being a fighter, Fromeyer?"

A scoff pants into his neck as Josh tucks in to nip. "Scud, like stud, dammit. Dunno why you don’t just call me that."

"Because it’s stupid," Marley grunts as Josh picks up the pace.

They’re grinding like horny teens, kissing and pawing, but fuck it—Josh’s got work now, and it’s been a while. Probably will be, again, before they can do this again. Hopefully his hardass bosses don’t drug test.

Josh’s leaving a bigger damp spot on his thigh as he trembles and finishes. Marley’s on his heels, getting that band shirt dirty, he’ll get bitched at for that. But for now, he’s content to just let the other stoner lie on top of him. They’re trapping the mess, getting it over more of them, but fuck it. They’re high, and Marley sighs, and grabs for the joint that’s been left smoldering on the carpet. Landlord’s an asshole, anyway. Can deal with it when his lease is up.

Marley snatches his fingers back as a boot grinds the joint to nothing. He yelps, and Josh fumbles and swears. The unfazed face above them tracks Josh as he gets to his knees, no real shame as he tucks himself away, then to his feet, gesturing at their intruder but not kicking his ass. Knows him, apparently.

"B? The fuck, man?" Josh hisses. Yeah, he knows him.

Marley isn’t as brave, and his high tanks as he blushes and tries to make it look like he doesn’t have white striping his thigh, smearing his hip. He stuffs himself away, at least, in time for the black dude to finally look at him.

"Uh, hi." And because Marley vaguely remembers manners, he points to his fridge: "Pretzels?"

Which feels wrong to ask this guy, somehow. Doesn’t fit with the vibe the room’s got now. He’s still a little high.

B ignores him, and Marley can’t help but frown when he sees Josh is packing up his shit, zipping his bag and jamming his boots on. He’d hoped they’d have a little more time. Not be interrupted, at least.

"You said you were grabbing provisions," B tells Josh flatly.

It doesn’t sit right with Marley. He doesn’t talk... normally. Too formal. But Josh is used to it, doesn’t say anything except, "Yeah, had a detour. Relax, man."

"Oh, I’m a detour," Marley scoffs, poking at the remains of the joint as B steps off to look out the kitchen window. Well, the everything window, since it’s a studio. Joint’s done for, and Marley sighs. His fun’s over, anyway.

"We’re already late."

"Yeah, yeah, I—Jesus." Josh is in front of Marley, then, as he finally clambers to his feet. That catches him off guard. So does the nudge Josh gives him. "Should be back in a few months."

"Months? Shit, what kinda job is this, dude?"

"Classified," comes from the door.

Josh rolls his eyes. "Tell Davey to have more of that good shit grown, yeah?"

"Only if you bring better snacks," Marley negotiates. Chips had been salt and vinegar. Gross, even if he’s too high to care much about flavor.

"Deal."

The quick peck Josh sneaks when he headbutts him surprises Marley, and then Josh is gone, scruffy and flushed and clomping down the stairwell outside the door with his bag. Too soon, too fast, Marley thinks. Would’ve been nice if they could figure out what the DVD was about.

Not as fast as B, lunging back into the room when he looks like he’s going to leave—no, checking to make sure Josh’s gone—and hurling Marley back against his bookshelf. It doesn’t hold a lot of books, more just junk, and an empty turtle shell clatters to the floor.

"Name?" B asks, and his coat twitches, and—holy fucking shit, that’s a big knife, and Marley tells him so. "It’s a sword. Name," B says with the weird patience of someone who doesn’t have time but knows he’s dealing with someone who’s high, and forcing him to hurry won’t do any good.

"Marley." The knife, the sword, taps his shoulder. "Jacobs. Wait, what—"

The hand pinning him goes for his face, his mouth, and Marley winces as his lip’s stretched down. B lets it curl back up just as fast, leaving behind the taste of fake leather, then he’s tilting Marley’s head to the side. Marley wants to tell him to maybe take the shades off first, but then he remembers this guy has a sword. He’s learned a thing or two from buying weed and a little bit of harder stuff. Don’t piss off the guy with the sword isn’t a rule verbatim, but it’s a cousin to don’t get into shit with Stevie, who’s known to carry.

"How do you know Scud?"

Josh, Marley thinks. "Uh, friends. High school, kind of." At B’s head cock, he hurries, "Well, Josh dropped out. We still hung out after."

"Why don’t you call him Scud?"

Jesus, who is this guy? "Not his name," Marley shrugs. "I’unno, I... like it better."

"And you hang out."

Marley says, "Yeah," even though he doesn’t think he’s being asked.

B’s tone suggests he knows what hanging out implies. Marley nods, and B steps off him. For a beat, there’s nothing but the background noise of the TV, what’s a funny pastime for them flat-out embarrassing now. Doesn’t matter that it’s not in English, the yellow-haired boy’s voice is grating, annoying to both the other characters and the audience. Chanting something about a hokage, whatever that is. Soup looks good, though.

The stack of junk over the fridge crinkles as B takes something—a bag of pretzels.

"Hey, what..." Marley trails off, expecting to be ignored as B heads for the door, this time for real, Marley thinks. But he pauses. Waits. "Is Josh okay? He got this job after he got jumped at some festival, I dunno if you knew. But he’s... what kind of job is this?"

Because it clicks. B: this is Josh’s boss. Josh sure bitched about him often enough. Not to mention: provisions, running late, classified.

"Like I said," is all B gives, which, yeah.

But Marley tries anyway. Steps forward, kicks his turtle shell by accident. It skitters further than it ought to, bumps the heel of a clunky boot. "Look, just..." I don’t know what the fuck happened, but is he suicidal? Is this some bullshit he took up to off himself? Is he in too deep with something? Mob? Cartel? "... is he gonna be alright? Is he gonna come back?"

The boots turn. A gloved hand picks up the shell, and then B’s pushing it into Marley’s hands. It’s not gentle, but he think it tries to be. "He’s useful."

That sounds... less than great, but Marley takes it. How many teachers bitched at Josh for goofing off, skipping classes, not being anything but a waste of space?

"Yeah," Marley says, "okay."

- - -

In the morning he wakes up hungover, the TV screen on a purple input screen, the DVD player fried because his soda must’ve fallen off the fridge and spilled. Marley wants to just turn over and go back to sleep on his futon, but blue and red are thrown up on the walls, cops—and Marley’s wide awake and checking that his stashes are hidden like any good stoner.

There’s a body bag being rolled out of the lobby, he sees, with his face pressed up to his window. When he pokes his head out to see if his neighbors know anything, one tells him it was the landlord being carted off. Shot point-blank, and Marley cringes at that. Sure, he was a strict asshole (only available at night, no food in the lobby, no black lights in the apartments) but that’s just... rough.

Well. Hopefully Josh doesn’t have to deal with that kind of violence, wherever his job takes him. Marley entertains the idea that maybe he’s with the CIA. Nah, not Josh, who treated Rage Against the Machine like commandments when they were in high school, who rolled his eyes at army recruiters, who laughed as they got their asses chased by truancy officers.

He’d just as likely be running around with monsters, Marley snorts, and rips off a chunk of stale donut and goes back to bed.

[butwhyduh]

One Night Thing

Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: smut, alcohol

The reader needs a distraction.

One more drink, you thought, and then I go home to my apartment. That I’ll loose soon because I was FIRED. Over something beyond control. You took a sip of the burning liquor and hoped to fog your mind a little more. Maybe you’d get lucky and sleep like a log after drinking a bit.

But your luck was a little better than that. A clank of ice on glass brought you out of your sour mind and to the man sitting beside you. Tall with dark hair and blue eyes, he was striking. Little scars on his face and hands and dressed like biker in black leather, he looked like a perfect distraction for the night. Lucky you for being smart and drinking slowly and being pretty sober.

“Hello,” you said. He smiled and goddamn he had dimples. The buttery black leather jacket and tight red t shirt gave a great show of his fit broad chest. This guy was ripped and pretty fucking tall too.

“Hi. How are you doing?” He asked holding a cigarette. Not your thing but it actually fit him. He noticed your eyes on the unlit smoke. “You want it?”

“No I don’t smoke,” you said, taking a drink.

“Yeah, me either. I mean, I quit and I’ve just been staring at this stupid thing all night,” he said with a small little half smile, almost wistful.

“A bar isn’t exactly a great place to quit smoking,” you said and he laughed.

“Yeah. What brings you to a bar? In Gotham like this?” He said suggestively at the group around. Yeah, the bar was a little bit rough but your friend was a bartender there some nights so you weren’t exactly new there, despite not being a regular.

“What does that mean?” You said leaning in. You could feel your breasts be more visible in your low cut shirt.

“You’re a little too nice and pretty for a rough bar like this,” he said giving you a little look over. It was quick, not creepy or weird. You felt your skin heat.

“I’d rather not talk about it. Just needed a distraction.” You took another sip.

“What kind of distraction,” he said smoothly running his fingers along your forearm. You felt your skin prickle at his touch.

“What kind you got,” you asked, upping it by running your leg along his. He practically purred his next question.

“You wanna get out of here?”

“Dying to,” you said, feeling reckless. You had never gone somewhere with a complete stranger but then again you’d never been fired since your first job at 18 either so there’s that.

He finished his drink and grabbed your hand like he had done it 100 times and pulled you towards the door. “Less find somewhere new, doll.” The way he said that put a fire in your belly.

He took you to a bike parked on the side. Black and red, sleek, and looked expensive. He pulled a second helmet out and put it on you. “Have you ever risen a bike before?” He asked making sure it fit.

“Can’t say I have.” You sounded way more confident then you felt. “Are you good to drive?”

“I was drinking a coke all night. I thought I might get called into work. You good to ride?” He asked a double entendre as he towered over you. Goddamn he was tall.

“One drink in the last hour. Perfectly fine. What are the rules to this thing?” You asked. He raised an eyebrow and again seemed to size you up.

“Hold my waist, lean with me, and let me know if you got scared. I’ve done this a ton. Don’t worry,” he said before realizing what he said. “I’ve had a ton of riders. Like on the bike. You know what I mean.”

“I got it but watching you fumble over your words was too nice to stop.” You said smiling. He nodded and smiled.

“Nice. I’ll remember that,” he said climbing on the bike. “Hop on.”

You carefully climbed on and he pointed where to place your feet and pulled your arms around his waist. The smell of his cologne and shampoo were intoxicating. “Hold on,” he said smiling. He turned it on and started driving. You were both excited and scared. He was a stranger driving you down the highway at 2 in the morning towards a nice area of Gotham. You gripped his waist tighter on the curves. You could feel his abs under his shirt as his jacket shifted open. Finally he pulled into a parking garage of an unmarked building and parked.

“Okay, you can climb off,” he told you and you realized you could have released his waist a little while before. He helped you off and you noticed your blood was pumping with adrenaline. He climbed off, grabbed a backpack, and helped you out of the helmet. “I just realized I hadn’t even gotten your name,” he said softly, tucking hair behind your ears that had fallen out on the ride.

You told him and asked for his name. “Why would we ruin this with my name? Just call me Red,” he said looking at your lips.

“That’s not fair. Give me just one name,” you said cupping his cheeks. He looked conflicted for a minute.

“Then call me Jay. Let’s take this party upstairs,” he whispered in your ear. You felt your blood warm.

The plain looking elevator had a card slot that he quickly inserted. He casually held your lower back a little too low on the ride up. The doors of the elevator opened a few floors higher to a plain but expensive apartment. Jay walked into the room and threw a backpack on the couch.

“This is your place. It’s... nice,” you said thinking it looked like the couch costs more than your apartment and car out together. The twinkling lights of the city were visible in the giant wall sized windows.

“It’s my dad’s place. Do you want a drink?” He asked. You considered the probable expensive liquor and wine to drink but the man standing in front of you was too tempting. The soft smell of his cologne had been in your nose the whole ride. He pulled off his jacket and laid it next to the backpack on the couch. You pulled your off too in the warm room.

“No,” you said. He turned around confused. “I want you,” you said way more confidently than you felt. Did I just say that, you thought. He raised an eyebrow again and walked over to you. Your heart pounded as he once again towered over you. You noticed how strong his arms were. His pecs were visible through the simple t shirt.

“What do you want of me?” Jay said, sliding his hands around your waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck. You kissed him softly. His lips tasted a little like bitter whiskey.

“What you got?” You whispered in his ears. He inhaled audibly.

“More than you can handle,” he said, sliding his hands down to your ass and cupping the flesh. You kissed down the side of his neck before coming back to his lips. He picked you up and you yelped before grabbing his shoulders. “I got you, baby. Don’t worry. I won’t drop you,” he breathed in your ears.

He started walking towards the bedroom. You kissed and nipped at the column of his neck paying attention to his pulse point. He kicked the door open to a slightly messy room. Papers were strewn around a desk and the bed had one side unmade. Jay walked over to the bed and laid you down. His arms made a cage over you as he looked you over. He liked the delicate blouse you wore, white with little black flowers, the front tied in a bow between your breasts like his own present.

“You’re fucking pretty,” he said huskily. You slid your hands along his arms, wishing he would do more. He pulled the tie loose and open the front of your shirt. “Baby,” he whined, taking in your sheer red bra. Your nipples were hard and exposed. He kissed down your neck. His teeth grazed your skin and you gasped. He chuckled before moving down. His tongue slid along the cleft of your breast before lapping at your nipple through the fabric. You mewed and you slid your fingers in his hair. He slid to his elbows and his hands held your waist as he switched nipples. The cool air on your wet skin harded your nipple even more.

He slid his hands down to pull your shirt off. Jay threw the delicate fabric across the room and you would have protested but he did a swirl thing with his tongue and it turned into a little moan. His fingers went lower to your pants but he pulled away from you after feeling around.

“Okay, how many fucking buttons is on this thing? Jesus. Help me out, baby,” he almost begged. You smirked and unbuttoned them. Jay hooked his fingers on the belt loop and slid them down. He went to pull your matching panties down but you pulled away.

“Not fair. You’ve got way too much on,” you said. Jay grinned and sat up. He pulled his shirt off by pulling the back over his head and threw it away. You looked at his chest. Holy fuck he looked good. Thick, broad chest with ab that you could see as he laughed. There was also a littering of scars in various places including a nasty looking little scar under his rib.

“Taking it all in, baby? Take your time.”

You ran a hand along his stomach and his muscles contracted with his breath. You boldly reached down and began unbuckling his belt that looked some sort of military grade. You hadn’t even bothered to ask what he did for a living. You unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down.

He was already hard in his underpants. You cupped him as he stepped out of his pants and he gasped before grasping your wrist. “Impatient.” He climbed over you, still holding your wrist, not that you put up a fight. He put it over your head and brought your other hand with it. “Stay,” he said and you found the command hot.

Jay climbed off the bed and grabbed stuff from the bedside table. He grabbed a condom and what looked like a silk scarf. “Do you mind?” Jay asked holding the scarf out. You shook your head and offered your wrists. He gently tied your hands to the headboard and even made sure it wasn’t too tight.

“Tell me if you want me to stop or let you go, okay?” He asked. His hands slid down your arms to cup your breasts.

“Yeah,” you breathed. His hands kneaded the flesh before going lower. Jay pulled the band of your panties down your legs and threw it in another corner. He had a pattern of throwing things. His fingers slid down to cup your pussy. You gasped. He slid his fingers along your slit and was rounding your hole before sliding in when his phone rang.

He reached over and grabbed it. With a finger on his lip to you, he answered the phone. His fingers lazily played with you.

“Hello..... no. I’m busy... not tonight. Well I don’t give a fuck what he thinks. I’m not coming in. I’m drunk. How’s that?” He said giving you a wink. His fingers moved faster and you bit your lip to hold your moan. You wanted to grab his arms but the scarf held your arms up. You whined.

“Shhh....” he said to you cheekily, “none of your business..... I don’t have to answer to you, bro,” he said on the phone before hanging up. His fingers slid deep in you and before you can ask what that was, you were moaning. Your hips moved with his hand trying to get more.

Jay pulled his fingers from you and you whined before realizing what he was doing. He grabbed the condom and slid it on his hard cock. He ran his cock through your folds a few times before finally sinking in.

“Fuck,” you gasped. His cock matched the rest of his body in size. You wanted to touch him with your hands but straining against the scarf had its own allure. Jay could see your eyes blown and lips swollen and hadn’t seen a prettier sight. “Please, move,” you practically begged and he smirked and started moving.

You weren’t quiet. He wasn’t as vocal but was softly grunting and moaning next to your ear. You watched the muscles in his arms ripple as he moved. You wrapped your legs around his waist wanting more.

“Fuck me, you do that again and I’ll cum right there,” he groaned. He grabbed your hips and pulled you off the bed a little to get a better angle. You pushed your head back and whined between your closed teeth, trying to quiet yourself.

“Baby, do you like it,” he asked in a husky voice. You nodded furiously. The tight grip he had on your hips felt delicious. You could feel yourself getting close. “I need an answer,” Jay said slowing down.

“No, more,” you begged.

“Do you like it?” He asked as you tried to move your hips faster.

“Yes, please, more,” you whined. He chuckled before thrusting at a faster pace. He adjusted his grip and went harder and faster and you felt your mind go blank as cumming was the only thing you wanted. “Don’t stop, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close,” you moaned. You could hear his heavy pants and his brow creased as he moved.

“God, you’re fucking hot looking like that. Are you gonna cum?” He purred staring down at you. His name intersected with a few “fucks” was the prettiest sounds to his ears. You nodded again. “Words, princess.”

“I.... I, you said as the words failed you. Instead you gasped and moaned your way through an orgasm. His grip on your hips was even tighter as he fucked you through your orgasm. As soon as you were done, he roughly thrusts through his own high. His thigh muscles twitched in the prettiest way. He panted before flopping on the bed beside you.

“Fuck me,” Jay said with a laugh. You chuckled.

“I think I just did,” you said back. He looked over, untied the scarf in one move, and pulled you close to his chest. His heartbeat was strong and you could feel his chest rise and fall.

“Yeah I-“ he started but his phone rang again. He groaned and got up. “I’ve got to answer this. What?..... you literally put a timer on your phone to call me? Between you and Dick... I’m a little busy.... fucking A fine. I’ll be there in an hour.... no don’t fucking tell him shit.”

He turned to you. “I’m sorry but that was work. I really don’t plan to fuck and leave but work calls.” Jay started pulling his clothing back on. “I’ll get you an Uber or whatever you want.”

“Yeah it’s cool. You said work would probably call you in earlier,” you said finding your underwear. Jay tossed you your shirt.

“You’re not mad?” He asked, surprised. Most girls would be yelling about him using them or whatever.

“No I’m not mad. It’s a one night stand. This saves me from sneaking out when you fall asleep,” you said with a shrug.

“Ouch. I mean, you would have missed out on a mean breakfast. Because I know the best Uber eats places,” he admitted and you laughed. “Can I call you sometime?”

“For a breakfast date?” You teased sliding your pants on.

“Definitely,” he said. His phone rang again. “Let me get your ride because I am being summoned by satan himself.”

“Ouch. The boss?”

“One and only. You can use the shower or eat or whatever before your ride gets here. I feel like such an asshole but I’ll be on the shit list if I don’t go,” Jay said throwing his shirt on. He failed to mention that Bruce Wayne was calling him and yeah he’d pay for not answering later.

“It’s fine. Really.”

“Date next week? Like a restaurant?” He threw out as he opened the door.

“Yeah just call me. Or text because no one calls anymore.”

“Definitely. I’ve got your ride on the way. He’ll take you anywhere for free.”

“Thanks,” you called as he ran out. About 10 minutes later a limo pulled in front of the building for you and a man introduced himself as Alfred.

“Yeah madame, I do a lot of driving for the boys. It’s really no trouble,” he said as you thanked him again as he drove in front of your place.

The next morning you got a text that said “hey” followed by “do you want a fucking amazing breakfast sandwich?”

You answered back “fuck yeah.”

[lovecinnatwist]

Please tell me that Dick leaves Kara, that he and Jason get happily together.

It feels like it’s been 100 years but here's another chapter! 

The Cost of Freedom Chapter III

Warnings: Includes Omegaverse, Cheating and Angst

She didn't show up. 

Even after she told him she would, she still didn't show up. 

Dick's body aches and hurts in a way that makes his insides twist. His thighs are damp and sticky with sweat and slick, the emptiness between his legs echoes in his chest. The first thing he feels after bitter disappointment is rage. 

She lied to him. 

He can't stand being in the nest for another moment. It smells too much like Kara, her sunny fragrance clings to his skin like an absent lover. It makes him sick. In his fury, he rips the entire thing apart. He pulls everything that's her's out of the nest. The blankets, the pillows, the fabrics- he wants none of it. 

He tears everything of hers out with a stinging sense of justice. He flings it all as far away as he can. He can't stand to look at a single reminder of the alpha. 

His frustration doesn't ease, even after he gets rid of every trace of her from the nest. Dick's glad for the plastic cover over the mattress. Like this, he doesn't have to worry about her scent sticking to it. It satisfies him but only for a moment. Soon his eyes snap to the closet.

Rage turns out to be an excellent motivator. 

He feels intense pleasure in ridding the bedroom of everything that's hers. Things she's bought him, her clothing, her scent. He pushes it all out into the hall. Then with a brush and bucket, scrubs the place down. He does the window sills, the grout, every place where she could possibly live. It helps, but barely. There are traces of her everywhere.

It takes him the entire day to chase her out. He moves the bed from the centre of the room to up against the wall. It's a safe position and this way he can sleep with his face to the door. It leaves a big space in the middle of the room. One that he readily knows how to fill.

Once he makes up his mind, he starts moving Kal's things into the master bedroom. The crib is the first thing he gets. He arranges it right next to the bed, where he can readily get to it during the night. Then, he gets the baby's clothing and places it in the dresser where Kara's once were. It works out perfectly. Then from there, it's easy to drag in the rocking chair and make his den cosier. 

He dumps his alpha's belongings in the nursery. Unable to will himself to at least fold her clothing or put them into the dresser. She doesn't deserve his aid or his kindness. In fact, a voice inside his head whispers that he should burn it all. 

He narrows his eyes and for a moment, considers it. 

'You’ll eat those words, and it won’t be me who feeds them to you.'

Jason's voice rings in his ears and cuts through the haze of rage.

Jason.

He thinks of the alpha for the first time in days. Jason had never been hesitant. Not with him or their relationship. With a cocky, confident smile, the other alpha made him feel special. To him, Dick's something irreplaceable. A treasure to be cherished and cared for with the utmost diligence. During the entirety of their affair, Jason never stood him up, never lied to him, and never disappointed him. 

Jason loved him. 

Dick's heart flutters at the thought. 

Love.

Unlike Kara, Jason didn't need him. The alpha saw him and chose him. That fact alone fills him with awe. Butterflies flutter in his stomach.

" I fucked up. "

The sudden urge to see Jason strikes him like lightning. He needs to apologize. He needs to tell Jason that he had been right about everything. He wants to run out of the apartment and find the alpha immediately. It wouldn't be hard. He would probably be at Big Al's, or maybe down at the Red Hood Motorcycle club. 

His keys are on the kitchen table, he could grab them, get on his bike then ride out and never look back. He bites his lip and starts towards the kitchen. Nothing but him and Jason on the open road. Kicking ass and taking names just like in the good old days. 

His keys are just insight when something makes him lose his footing. Dick curses as he stumbles to catch himself. He grips the wall, looking around for whatever almost made him twist his ankle.

All he finds is one of Kal's baby blue socks. He reaches down to pick it up. It must have fallen off when Lois came to pick him up a few days ago. He chuckles. They were almost too small for him now. Soon it would be time to get new ones.

Something wet rolls down his cheek. 

Dick reaches up, his fingertips come back damp. He lets out a shaky breath that becomes a sob. 

Kal.

Like a cup ready to overflow, one tear breaks the damn. There's no way to stop himself. The sudden well of emotions makes him shake. He picks up the soft smell of milk and baby powder from the small scrap of fabric. It makes his heart clench.

He never thought that he would become a parent. Kids weren't a thing in a freescape. There's found family of course, but settling down? Absolutely unheard of. Even in his daydreams, he never let himself want it. Now that he's had it though. He doesn't ever want to let it go.

Jason might love him in all the ways he wants, but Kal loves him in ways he never knew he needs. 

Hot tears fall with fervency, the sting of saltwater makes his eyesight blurry. It never did matter if Kara came or not did it? After all, no matter how their relationship fell apart, he would always stay.  

He would never leave.

It's that thought that teeters the last of his composure. He cracks. Fat tears spill down his face until he can taste them in his mouth. He can't keep himself from weeping. 

He cries for his baby, his sweet Kal who he never wants to be apart from. He cries for the loveless relationship he's caught in and will never leave. He cries until every vulnerable part of him is bare, and there's nothing left but soundless screams. 

Then he screams at who he's become, who he's let himself be. He hates everything, but more than that he hates himself.

He's so busy wallowing in his own sorrow that he doesn't hear the soft click of the door. Not until it's too late. Kara's sunshiny aroma presses against him. It's nowhere near as bright as it usually is. While typically Kara can light up a room, right now she seems just as small as Dick feels. Teary blue eyes stare at teary blue eyes. 

" Are you leaving?"

The question hangs between them so heavily, Dick feels like he can reach out and touch it. His throat feels raw. He can't bring himself to move from where he's standing. He feels weak. Like he's lost all the strength in his body. He's burnt himself out on rage, and all that remains now is defeat. 

" No- No, I'm not. "

He doesn't want her to see him like this. He doesn't want to look weak. He's quickly starting to learn, however, that wanting things doesn't mean you'll get them. He hates the relief he sees in her expression. He hates that he can smell it in her scent. His heart clenches, and the words fall out before he can stop them.

" I'm having an affair. "

Kara grows deathly still. Dick's pulse picks up as he watches for her response. She doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity. He can't read her body language. He expects her to be hurt, disappointed or maybe even furious. Instead, all he gets is a small broken smile.

" I know. "

The words cut through him. The alpha looks at the floor, seeming to be searching for what to say next. Dick can't bring himself to look away. His mouth feels dry at her admission. Of course, she knew, she had super senses. This thing between him and Jason had been going on for months. How did he really think he had hidden it from her?

Kara flexes her fingers several times. She looks just as beaten as Dick feels. Guilt twists in his stomach and makes him feel sick. He wants to run away from her. He doesn't want to face the truth.

Kara peers up at him, and it becomes harder to breathe.

" Maybe we should sit down? "

He's reluctant to take the offer, but she sits in the single couch leaving him the love seat to himself. Carefully he creeps over and curls up on the furniture. It's new and soft. Something Kara's brought them from the Garden. He looks at the paint, carpet and decor. This has been their home for so long now. He can barely remember what it had been like to sleep in his old dusty shack. 

He doesn't look at Kara, and she doesn't look at him. It makes things somewhat more manageable. He isn't sure who's turn it is to speak. He licks his lips, trying to think of a way to broach the conversation. He doesn't want another beat of silence to stretch between them. 

" You didn't show up " It shocks him how soft the words are. He doesn't recognize the anxiety in his voice. He reaches for the edge of his pants and plays with the hem. He wishes he could summon up some of the anger from earlier, but all he finds is fatigue. 

Kara sighs and Dick can hear her shifting on the couch. He risks a glance. She looks torn, her brows wrinkle where they crunch together, and her mouth is in a frown.  Dick swallows and her eyes flicker to his. 

" I was going to, I tried to- "

She looks genuine as she speaks. She can barely keep eye contact with him, her gaze quickly falling to the rug. Dick wants to reach out and soothe her but more than anything he wants answers. His omega is right at the surface, begging to know the truth. He barely realizes he's wreaking of distress until Kara's own aroma shifts to comfort him.

" I couldn't do it. I tried and made it all the way to the bedroom. I wanted to be with you, but when I thought about what I would have to do- "

Her voice chokes off, and Dick has to stomp down an omega whine. He wouldn't console her. Not when she left him for days to ride out his heat when she told him she would be there. She closes in on herself, posture crumpling. 

" I know that I should be able to, I know that it's natural, but- "

Dick can genuinely see her hands trembling. Her skin is growing paler by the second, while shame peppers her scent. Even without seeing her eyes, he knows what kind of expression she's making. He won't support her, but he can't help leaning forward in his seat.

" The thought of doing it makes me sick to my stomach. Whenever I think of going all the way- of being intimate, all of a sudden I'm nauseous. "

Dick wishes he could bite back his pathetic whimper. Kara's eyes snap to his and then she's standing. The sight of her up on his feet makes him skittish. He presses back and away from her. He doesn't get a chance to run before she's backing off. Her hands held in front of her in a submissive posture. 

His heart pounds in his chest, it's loud enough he can hear it in his ears. He watches Kara for signs of movement, but she stays perfectly still. 

" I'm sorry- I'm so sorry Dickie, I shouldn't have lied to you. I was just so scared you would leave us. I thought maybe if I could do it, you would stay. "

Her words hit him hard. The familiar feeling of disappointment sparks to life. The more desperate she becomes to explain, the more defensive he feels. He's on his feet before he knows it. His omega right with him, roaring in his head. 

" So that's what it was? The only reason why you said you would. Was to stop me from leaving? "

Dick hates that the words break his heart.

He doesn't realize he's inching towards the exit until she reaches out. 

" Dick wait- please wait. "

He shouldn't. He should get right out of the house and as far away from her as possible. His legs don't move though. He just stands there with his throat burning. Another fresh round of tears starts to fall before he can stop them. He feels like he's going to suffocate. She stares at him helplessly. 

" I didn't know what else to do. You started seeing Jason and I panicked. " 

It hurts more than a slap to the face, his guilt cools off any remaining flames of frustration. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. There's nothing he can say. What would he have done if he found out Kara had been seeing another omega behind his back? The answer that creeps to mind almost sounds ominous. 

Whatever he had to, to keep her.

" I was so lost, Dick. Kal loves you, and when I felt you distancing yourself, I had to do something. I know what it's like to grow up without a mom. I want better for Kal. I don't want to be the reason why he grows up without you. "

Dick wonders if she knows her body is trembling. If she knows that the look of sheer panic on her face makes her look breakable. He can smell nothing but desperation and fear. It's thick enough in the air that it makes him feel sick. He fights with his instincts before reluctantly deciding to comfort her.

It isn't much, just a hand on her shoulder. It must mean a lot more to her because soon she's crumpling in his touch and folding into his arms as if she belongs there. He freezes, this close he can smell everything in her scent. The betrayal, the fear and the anxiety hangs around her like a dark cloud. He squeezes his eyes shut.

" I don't want Kal to grow up without me either. "

Kara tightens her grip just enough for him to feel her strength. He squeezes her back. 

" Do you love me? "

He doesn't know why he asks her. Right now things are so delicate between them, it's probably the worst timing. He feels her tense in his hold. It's as clear an answer as words would be.

" Not the way you love me. "

It hurts less than he thought it would. Hearing it out loud is awful, but more than that it feels like he's finally able to exhale. 

"Thank you for being honest. "

They stand like that for a while, in an awkward half embrace. Dick doesn't bring up the fact that Kara is getting his shirt wet, and she similarly ignores his uneven breaths. The exhaustion from his heat and the emotional conversation starts to catch up with him. 

" We should break up. "

Kara's breath hitches, but she doesn't say anything. Carefully, Dick untangles himself from her. 

" Kara I love you, and I love Kal, but this isn't healthy for either of us "

Her eyes are red around the rim. She only holds eye contact for a few seconds before looking away. She gives a small hesitant nod. 

Dick takes both her hands, and it somehow brings her attention to him. He's too tired to smile so all he does is look. He takes in her beautiful face, her wild untamable blonde locks, the freckles that splatter over her nose and stores it all in his memory.

" You and me? We'll always be GCG and always be pack. That won't change no matter what, but I think it's time we do what's best for both of us. "

He can face his actions honestly now. As much as it hurts, he knows that this is the right thing for both of them. Kara looks up at him with lost blue eyes, and it makes his heartache. He still loves her. Maybe he always would. 

But as she said it, it's a different kind of love, and for her, it isn't romantic.

" I am sorry for cheating on you Kara."

She doesn't say anything, her eyes drop to the floor. Her scent betrays her hurt.

��� I deserved it.. “

 When she folds her hands over his chest, he feels her emotionally distancing herself a bit. He pushes into her space a bit to force her to look at him.

“ No. You didn’t no one deserves that. I’m sorry. “

Her eyes get misty again making him do the same. His heart aches for her and the guilt squeezes his throat. He doesn’t know what else to say. 

" What happens next?"

It’s a good question, he hadn't thought that far at all. He shrugs before taking a few steps back. The weight of the week crashes into him with enough force that he nearly staggers. All he wants to do is shower and sleep until this entire conversation feels like a faraway dream. 

" You tell me Alpha. "

Kara's attention snaps to him so fast he thinks she nearly breaks her neck. He can't help the tiny minute smile that slips onto his lips. 

" You still trust me with that title? "

Dick doesn't hesitate. " I trust you with my life. "

She takes a step forward to touch him, but seems to realize her place and stops. Dick watches the battle on her tear damp face. The conflict, he feels it too. It won’t be perfect, and it won’t be fixed right away but it’s a start. 

Kara offers him a hand and he takes it. It burns in his hands warm like the sun. He soaks up her touch. 

“ We’ll figure this out. Somehow. For Kal. “

He shakes her hand. Her gratitude and appreciation peppers the air like perfume.

“ For Kal. “

[cal-puddies]

is it warm enough for you inside me? || calum hood

this is 100% a joint effort with @kindahoping4forever​. So if you are lucky enough to live in the midwest of the US, then you know we had a random one day snow storm the other and I was talking to crystal about it. mind you i was drinking so i launched into the tropiest idea i could and this is what came out. Make sure you give her extra love too because she doesn’t realize how fucking good she is at writing.

Cal had been your best friend for a while, you couldn’t exactly remember when you met, but you’d run into him and Ashton and he quite literally ran into you, knocking you on your ass and it’s all history from there. 

The two of you had decided a get away was in order, work stress for you and him being home from tour for too long, you both needed a break. 

And getting there was a disaster, Cal had mistaken AM flights for PM flights and booked because they were a good deal, and you didn’t actually see the tickets until last minute only to realize you needed to be up at 3 am and it had been midnight and you were tipsy and still not fully packed. 

Then the airline lost your bag. You had to wait in the airport for hours to get a rental because they were all out and you were 12 hours early.

To make matters worse, you still had to drive in a snowstorm over two hours to get to the cabin he’d rented. And you, of course, trip in the snow almost immediately. And it wasn’t light, fluffy snow, it was the super heavy, super wet stuff, and it of course soaked you through. 

So that brings you to now, tired and cold, with no extra clothes for the night except what Cal decides he can spare. It leaves you in his hoodie and your panties. The two of you sitting in front of the fire, making s’mores. 

He’s wearing the crotch hole jeans and telling  you about how he had to teach Luke about graham crackers. 

“You’re kind of being an asshole.” He mentions. 

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for a fun getaway. I haven’t slept in two days and I don’t know If I’m getting my bag back or I just have to wear the same clothes for the next four days.” You gripe. “And I’m fucking cold.” You groan. 

Cal nods in understanding. “I know I messed up the flights but you don’t have to take everything out on me.” He reminds you. 

You relax, because he’s right and you’d be equally as annoyed if he treated you like this. You head for the couch and throw a blanket over your lap. 

And not too long after that is when you propose the alcohol gets cracked open for the "scientific warmth", and when you cheers to your first drink, he calls a truce.

“Sorry for being a jerk, just everything that could, did go wrong” he murmurs, clinking glasses.

“Murphy’s law.” You mumble, agreeing. 

Downing your shot, you can't help but get one last jab in, "I can feel you getting likeable again already!" and then as it usually goes whenever one of you gets in a Mood, it's immediately as if nothing happened. 

You're laughing about the way you fell in the snow and doing impressions of the unhelpful airline employees who couldn't help with your bag situation.

And Cal notices you hogging the blanket on the couch, so he just climbs on next to you and helps himself, “you already got my hoodie so you gotta share.” 

“I’d share anything with you,” you mumble under your breath.

Which he doesn't hear because Cal is making a show of getting comfortable with you on the couch, “so cozy, so comfy,” and he pulls you against him for maximum comfort for you both.

And you lay there together for a while, talking about everything and nothing, his hands are slipping under the hoodie after the third drink because you are warm in his hoodie and his hands are cold.

You gasp at his touch but not entirely because of the temperature change. Calum hood could touch you 100000 times and you’d still never be ready for the full on butterfly feeling

He nonchalantly drums his fingers on your  bare skin because he's Cal and hasn't noticed how your breathing has changed, doesn’t notice you seem to hold your breath and you’re not laughing as much, because what if your stomach feels weird to him and he’s grossed out. 

You kind of panic and you know you need an out of this situation. So you end up exaggeratedly yawning, “think I’m gonna head to bed Cal, I’m exhausted.” You mumble. But you know you just need to put some space between you for even just a few minutes, you don't know how much longer you can pretend that your face is flushed from drinking. 

Cal agrees “yeah, we should get some rest so we can fight the airline for your fuckin bag,” so he’s behind you, rambling, and when you make it to the bedroom in your little cabin, you realize Calum must have booked one with only one bed. You stop short in the doorway.

He finally makes it to the door and bumps into you. He takes in the room and kind of laughs, “coulda sworn I asked for two.” He scratches the back of his neck. 

“It’s cool, I’ll sleep on the couch.” You shrug, turning to walk away, it’s too crowded in here now. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll freeze, we’ll share.” 

"Great" you sigh, and while he's gone back to the living room to make sure everything's locked up, you quickly rearrange the bedding to form a makeshift pillow wall down the middle of the bed,  so you have at least some hope of being able to rest. You rush to the bathroom to pull yourself together as you hear him coming back down the hall.

Cal thinks the pillow wall is ridiculous when and is rearranging the bed when you come back, he gives you this look like ‘what is wrong with you?’

“What?! My back hurts from tensing up and shivering; I just wanted some extra support.” 

“I can rub your back, and if you're still that cold, we should probably snuggle up skin to skin. You know, transfer body heat and all that.” He explains. 

You groan internally as he strips down, to his underwear and snuggles into the bed, “here I’ll get it warmed up for ya.” He smiles, and wow he’s looking so cute smiley and snugg in the bed, cheeks tinted pink from the alcohol. He makes a show of kicking his legs and rolling around to warm up the bed, and then looks at you, “c’mon! It’s warm, hoodie off.” 

“Calum.” You roll your eyes.

"Just tryna help, love," and next thing you know he's pouting with those plush lips and god, you really could not have made this a worse situation for yourself if you had tried. You fidget with the hem of the hoodie for a beat longer before you offer an exasperated "Fuck it" and tear it off and hurriedly slide under the covers.

“That’s my girl.” Calums grins, pulling you into him. He wraps his arm around you and starts absentmindedly rubbing your back, “isn’t this better? The bed is warm, we’re cuddled up together rather than having all those pillows to make sure we both stay cold?”

You roll your eyes to yourself at his ability to remain totally oblivious to the situation. It's so Calum. This isn't the first time your attraction to him has gotten the best of you but it's definitely the closest you've come to having to address it. Wrapped up in tattooed arms, bare chest pressed up against your back, this is the closest you've been to Calum, period. "You were right, 's great, Cal. Thanks" you say warmly but in a tone you hope makes it clear the conversation doesn't need to continue.

He stays quiet for a little bit, burying his face against the back of your neck. “Glad we decided to get away.” He murmurs, and you get goosebumps as his lips brush against the back of your neck. “Are you cold? Here, turn over, against me.” He says softly.

You can't think of a reason not to so you flip over as requested. He runs his hand vigorously up and down your arm, that he's decided entirely on his own needs warming. In a genuine but light tone, you ask, "How are you not tired? We got up so early and everything that went wrong... hell is literally freezing over right now. Why are you not sleeping?" 

Without even a beat of hesitation, he shrugs and answers simply, "Guess I'd rather talk to you."

You let out a little sigh. Cal was aloof. No idea what those words meant to you, no idea of the total effect he was having on you, and you’re not even sure he’d care if he did know and that was annoying enough.

You must still have a notable amount of liquid courage in you because you hear yourself press him, "Well. Let's talk then. Tell me something I don't know. And make it interesting, Hood."

And he decides to match your courage, “I think you’re pretty.” He murmurs, in case you don’t hear him and he can take it back.

You purse your lips in thought. Normally you're a big believer in the "go big or go home" mindset but the problem here is if this goes wrong, you can't go home because of the storm. His admission isn't much but coming from Cal, it's kind of a lot. Realizing you need to respond before either of you lose your nerve, you take a deep breath and move the slightest bit closer to him on the bed. "You got me drunk and naked during a blizzard just to tell me I'm pretty?"

Cal lets out a sigh of relief and grins at you, “best laid plans darlin... what did you wanna hear, about how I wanna kiss you, or suck your clit instead?” He decides to be brash right back.

You grin back at him while your mind is going a mile a minute. You search his eyes, trying to decide how much of this is him trying to get a reaction out of you, hoping this is for real and not just a game of chicken that flirty friends might play. You clear your throat and smirk, "Well. I guess I did say make it interesting, now didn't I?"

“Right, right.” He nods... “so you definitely wanted to hear about how I’d kiss down your body, paying attention to your neck and nipples because I know you like that. Maybe a couple hickies? Then your thighs would just be covered in marks...” he watches you shift, “should I go on?” He smirks

You love that smirk and you hate that smirk. That smirk that lets him get away with anything but also let's on that he knows he can get away with anything. You wish your breathing hadn't become so shallow as you lean in and say in a much lower voice than anticipated, "You know... I'm realizing I've never been a big fan of stories." You lightly drag your finger down his chest, stopping to trace over his many tattoos. "Always preferred 'show' over 'tell', you know?"

“I think I know that about you.” He pushes your hair off your shoulder and pulls you closer, pressing his lips to your neck, he feels your body tense for a moment as he presses another to your cheek. “This ok?” He checks.

You exhale loudly, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. You smile faintly at him, the flirty confidence you'd been hiding behind finally slipping. "Yes..." You answer, running your hand down his sweetly concerned face, enjoying the roughness of his stubbly cheeks. "More than ok. I've just... I've been wanting this." You hook your fingers under his chin and bring his face to yours, fitting your lips against his before he can respond to your confession.

Cal grins into the kiss; happy to have the permission. The kiss is needy, he’s nipping at your bottom lip, sucking it, and then he’s moving his lips back to your neck, pulling you against him, grabbing your ass to pull you closer. He pushes you over onto your back as he starts to kiss down your body.

Your fingers instantly thread thru his hair as you watch him move down the bed, pressing his lips to your skin any and everywhere he sees fit. You gasp as he palms over your right breast, loudly sucking a mark just below it. "You don't waste any time, do you, Cal?" You comment shakily, closing your eyes.

“Well... I’ve been wanting it, too.” He smirks at you. “So pretty.” His tongue pokes out, teasing your nipple. “Wondering how you taste, how you sound.”

You inadvertently let out a yelp when the chilly air of the room hits your skin dampened by his kisses at the exact moment he says the word "sound." You both chuckle warmly at the coincidence and for a second, you forget that this is not normal, that this is uncharted territory. You remember that it's just Cal. His mouth closing in on your other nipple yanks you out of your thoughts and you relax into the feeling, murmuring "That's nice, Cal" because you know he likes encouragement.

Cal kisses back up your body, pushing himself flush against you so you can feel that you’re getting him hard. He presses a couple sweet kisses to your cheeks before moving back down leaving open mouth kisses against your thighs, marks and nips decorating your skin

Cal hooks his fingers in your panties and gently pulls them off. He notices your breath catches as you feel him between your legs and he looks up at you, eyes meeting yours to check in once more. You bite your lip and nod. Satisfied with this exchange, he wraps his arms around your thighs, bringing you closer to him and his tongue darts out to lick a stripe down your center.

Cal hums against you as he slowly licks over your clit, “so worked up.” He grins at you. “Can you turn the lamp on? Wanna see you.”

You snort at his request but oblige him, making a big show out of extending your body up and over to reach the bedside table. "Not exactly the type of stretch I've been hoping for tonight, Hood," you tease.

He cocks an eyebrow, licking into you, staring you down. He presses his thumb to your clit, “you want stretch, darlin? I’m sure I can make that happen for you.”

He circles your clit with his thumb a few times before attaching his lips to it. He continues to eat you at a torturously slow pace and you groan, bucking your hips against his face, resulting in him murmuring an unintelligible protest against your pussy and reaching out to steady your wild hips.

“Acting like no ones touched you in months.” He teases. “Fuck, youre delicious.” He rests his head against your thigh and flicks his tongue over and over your clit, moaning. He flicks his eyes up to you to see your face

He sees your lips are moving but no words are coming out. He smiles to himself as he asks a question he feels he probably already knows the answer to, "You ready to cum for me, darlin?"

Your fingers tangle in his hair and he buries his face back against your core, licking, sucking, nipping on the super sensitive flesh, listening to your moans and rambling

He hears you find your voice just enough to get out a strained "Jesus, Cal" and then feels your body finally tense and relax beneath him. He laps at you a few more times before you're pushing him away. He presses a kiss to each of your inner thighs and then raises himself over you, to kiss you, tongue moving against yours with grace, offering you a taste of your arousal, taking away the breath you had barely just caught after your orgasm.

“Was it everything you’ve wanted?” He teases, against your mouth. He drops his hips against yours, needing you to feel him. You pull out the kiss and Cal immediately goes back to kissing your neck, “it was more than I thought, you sound better than I could have imagined. Better than I’ve thought about when jerking off.” He admits.

You press a small kiss to his shoulder and decide you can't get him close enough so you run your hands down his back, drawing him near, "Can't say I was disappointed." You roll your hips against his, eliciting the type of sharp groan you were hoping you'd receive. "But tell me, what else have you thought about?" You reach between you and find his hard cock between your bodies and give it a light squeeze thru his boxers.

“What haven’t I thought about?” He chuckles, gripping you and flipping you so you’re on top, “this has crossed my mind a lot. Bet you look so pretty when you’re riding cock.” He hums, “think about your lips wrapped around me.”

You lean over him and trail short wet kisses all over his chest, "Oh yeah? Reckon I'd look pretty good with your cock in my mouth?" You tease

“I’d be willing to bet on it.” He winks. “Should we find out? Or are you wanting more.”

You both grin at each other like fools as you work together to get his underwear off. You figure you've both waited long enough for this and waste no time licking up the sides of his cock before taking as much of it as you can into your mouth

“No what the fuck.” He breathes

You pull off of him as quickly as you took him in and chuckle, "Thought you said you thought about this a lot, is this not what you expected?" You smile at him playfully while you give his cock a few gentle strokes. You lean down to roll your tongue briskly over the head before wrapping your lips around it and gently begin to suck.

“No, this is perfect, baby, thank you.” He groans, wrapping his hand in your hair. He moans as you work his cock up and down, flicking your tongue over the tip before licking down his shaft to suck on his balls, drawing out a low groan. “Baby, want you on my cock, please.”

You react audibly to his words and lazily drag your lips across his cock and chest as you make your way back up his body. You lay next to him and he wraps a hand around your neck, pulling you to his lips, murmuring nonsense against them. You pull back and kiss along his jaw because you've always wanted to do that and now you can, "How do you want me?"

“Be a good girl and ride me for a little, yeah?” He asks. “Just wanna see you on top of me for a bit, and then maybe I can get it from behind.” He murmurs, holding your neck tight.

Just the thought of Cal bending you over like you've always imagined has you feeling weak and your eyes fluttering shut, "That... sounds like a fantastic plan." You peck at his lips a few times more and sit up, "So tell me, does a stud like you keep condoms with you at all times or are we going with the honor system here? I'm on the pill and like, I know you so I'm fine either way..."

He hmmms... “I didn’t assume to bring any... like don’t get me wrong, I would have thought too if I thought this was possible. But I can be a responsible adult and wait, as much as I don’t really want to…”

Of all of the unexpected events of the day, hands down the most surprising for Cal has to be seeing the wide smile that spreads across your face. Before he can ask you about it, you're capturing his lips in yours again, "Good boy," you beam and then bound off the bed into the living room. He's confused until he sees you rushing back into the bedroom, digging thru your purse. "You know, I've always wondered what your move would be in this situation, although I appreciate you not assuming anything," you triumphantly toss a shiny packet at him on the bed. He raises an eyebrow at you as you toss your bag aside and climb back on the bed. "Don't flatter yourself, Cal, it's not specifically for you, I just like to be prepared," you tease.

“Oh yeah? Just gonna fuck a random mountain man then?” He quips with a soft smile to let you know he’s joking.

"I didn't take you for a role playing guy, but if that's what you're into, I'm down"

“No no, if we're gonna do this, we’re gonna do this as ourselves. I don’t wanna pretend I wouldn’t have you if you weren’t you.” He admits. 

“Another point for Hood.” You grin. “Now, are you gonna put that condom on or do you need a hand?”

"I'm never gonna say no to you putting your hands on me," he taps the bed next to him, indicating you should come closer. He rubs over the top of your thigh as you tear open the wrapper and give his cock a few firm tugs before you roll the condom onto him.

Cal grabs for your hips, sitting up for a kiss and to guide you over him. He grabs his cock in one hand and slicks it through your folds. “Think you’re ready?” He checks, “it feels like you’re ready.“ he murmurs

"You have no idea how ready," you groan and begin to sink yourself down onto him.

Cal groans from the sudden delicious change of your body on top of him and you wrapping around him “can’t believe we’re finally doing this, you feel amazing.” He admits, laying back. “Show me how you like it gorgeous.” 

And you can’t help but love all the affection and terms of endearment he’s showering you with.

You take his hands from off your hips and place them on your tits. He takes the hint and begins playing with them and then you're rolling your hips, trying to find a rhythm that satisfies you both. "Fill me even better than I thought you would," you tell him.

“Oh? So you’ve been thinking about my dick?” Cal gets cocky, and he grins. “You can take it slow, I wanna enjoy you on top of me, I can rail you in a bit.”

Calum lands a hard smack to your ass.

You roll your eyes, partly at his smug demeanor and partly at how much it turns you on. "You want slow, Cal?" You lean back, bracing your hands on his legs. You raise your hips until his cock is nearly all the way out of you and then slowly lower yourself to take him all in again. You repeat this slow dance again and again and the way Cal is gripping your hips along with the soft curses slipping from him tells you the sensation -not to mention the sight- is driving him wild. "This more what you had in mind?"

“Exactly.” He confirms, slowly moving his hands across your skin, up over your breasts, tweaking your nipples, lightly holding your neck, and down back over your thighs, he might be in you but he wants to make sure you feel him all over your body. He bites his lip watching you, “feels so good, pretty girl.” He praises. “You let me know when you’re ready to switch.” He lets his thumb linger over your clit, pressing soft circles over it.

"Ah... that's so good, keep doing that." You moan contentedly and lean into his touch, bouncing on his cock just a little more aggressively. "Love this but honestly just about ready for you to wreck me"

“Happy to.” He guides you off of him by your hips, “let’s get ass in the air.” He directs. He watches you turn over and settle on your hands and knees, wiggling your ass. He can’t help himself as he leans in to slick his tongue through your folds another time, listening to your breath hitch at his unexpected action. “So good,” he murmurs as he kisses the back of your thigh and up to your lower back. “Nothing’s gonna beat the view of you on top of me, but...” he lines up and sinks in, “fuck you feel good.” He makes quick work of upping the rhythm since you’re already so wet for him.

He moves his hips against you, hands alternating between grabbing at your ass and holding on to your hips for leverage. You can't believe how good he feels from this angle and you want to tell him but all that comes out is a series of whines. He seems to get the message, though, since he responds with "Feelin good, pretty girl?" and a loud slap to your ass as he drives himself in deeper.

Your arms give as you drop your face to the bed, chanting and whining his name. “Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He teases, rubbing a hand over the newly smacked flesh, landing another one, he grins at your little yelp. “Taking it so well.” He groans. And then it’s just skin on skin and the moans filling the bedroom.

You can't help but move your hips back against him as you feel yourself nearing your end. "Fuck, gorgeous, get what you need," his encouragement sending you over the edge. He slows down, letting you ride out the orgasm at your own pace, groaning at your satisfied sounds and the feeling of you pulsing around him. Once he feels your body relax, he gently alters his rhythm once more, searching for his own release.

He grins, still watching you while chasing his orgasm, your body still moves for him, he’s watching the nothing fall out of your moving lips, your fingers curl into the sheets, it’s when you finally find your voice to say “cum for me cal” that he loses it, holding his hips tight against yours as he spills into the condom.

Cal stays buried in you for a few beats longer, hands absentmindedly rubbing over your ass as he catches his breath. He gives one last "Fuckin hell," under his breath as he eases himself out of you, you murmur in blissful agreement. You feel him affectionately run his hand down your spine and leave a small kiss on the back of your neck before the weight on the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom.

When he comes back, you exhaustedly cuddle against his chest. He kisses the top of your head and listens as you fall asleep. “Guess we’ll talk about us in the morning.” He whispers, kissing your head again. 

You’re both awoken by your ringing cell phone, cal is wrapped tightly around you, and you have to fight your way out of his arms to go answer it. 

His eyes are barely open as you climb back in bed with him, he scoops his arm around you and pulls you in. “My suitcase came in this morning, they are going to bring it here.” He grin. 

“That’s good, but I was liking you in my hoodie.” He murmurs, eyes closing again. 

“Know you wanna go back to sleep Cal, but, can we talk?” You ask and watch as he nods, “about last night… I want you to know that I hope it’s not just a one time thing.” 

“Could be a two time thing,” he murmurs, pushing his hand between your thighs and kissing your cheek, “are you thinking something else?” He checks, as you push against his chest. 

“I was thinking maybe like… we try… us.” You admit, “if you want to, no pressure.” You quickly sputter out. 

“Of course I want to.” He sighs. “Just wasn’t ever sure you wanted that.” 

“I do, I want that.” You kiss his nose, “so let’s try.”

Tag list: @cocktail-calum​ @1dthewantedlove​ @youngblood199456​ @lustingforwunder​ @calumsphile​ @neso-k​ @rosecoloredash​ @radmcqueen​ @justayoungandwisefangirl​ @itsnotmyblood​  @lietoash​ @pushthetide21​ @5sosfanficrec​ @therealmrshale​ @fallfrxmgrace​ @lukashemmos​ @justarandomgirlthatyoudontknow​ @5sos-microwave​ @madbomb​ @sweetheartmendes1000​ @literally-anythin​ @lfwallscouldtalk​ @clemmingstylins0n​ @ccnicole02​ @lustingfor5sos​ @buteverythingiscopacetic​ @rosesfromcth​ @bodaciousbonzi1996​ @ashtontotheirwin​ @captainam-erika-trash​ @xxgendurvikixx​ @jazzyangel242​ @bluebabycal​ @rhiannonmichellee​ @iovehemmings​ @glitterycalum1205​ @katcontreras​ @cashtonasfuck​ @ificanthaveu​ @kindahoping4forever​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @canterburyfiction​ @opheliaaurora​  @queer-5sos​ @banditocth​ @gigglyirwin​  @glitterycalum1205​ @rebelwith0utacause​  @inlovehoodx

gc tags: @sublimehood​  @5sosnsfw​ @angelbabylu​ @aspiringwildfire​ @irwinkitten​ @lashtoncurls​ @myloverboyash​ @singt0mecalum​

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

[rosepetalwings]

DESSERTRUNE

okay, looks like people are interested in my AU dessertrune so..... please enjoy the upcoming jumble of words i've strung together to explain this au!

(TRIGGER WARNING - This is a horror AU and will deal with dark and disturbing topics, including gore, murder, and even cannibalism, intended to disturb the viewer. The post will be tagged with the appropriate tags to warn for such things but please do not read if such things will affect you negatively. Please stay safe and enjoy something else that may bring you joy, for you are worth it. 🖤)

Story

There's giggly chattering amongst the more naive and imaginative students of Hometown's school of a world in the shadows made of saccharine enchantment and wonder... Taffy trees and frosted fields and sweet smiles from the saccharine people that inhabit this magical land. How terrible it is to know that their innocent dreams are but sugar coated nightmares.

But all is not lost.

For you see, Legend tells of 3 brave young heroes from the Light banishing the Angel’s Confections from the land which promise to bring ruin to them all. To rid the Dark of its extra Fountain and the curious candies that have sprung up in ostentatious billboards and flashy, loud ads all through the Dark World is the Heroes’ Quest; a quest that may consume them whole.

Locations

Light World

Everything in the Light World is mostly untouched, save for the bunker which sports an odd little sticker for some strange candy... Curious when you consider the sticker's brightness and newness against the bunker's weathered and dilapidated age. Probably just some kid with new stickers wandering where they shouldn't have been.

Dark World

????? - Dark and haunting, this muted pink area sports rock candy jewels that glint strangely in the shadows that bathe the area. Best to keep moving along, judging by the strange iridescent sludge that pool around everywhere here and open mouthed grinning puzzles that seem to giggle quietly at you specifically...

Castle Town - A break from the burnt bubblegum-pink, there is an empty town that surrounds a lonely castle. It is dark, and so very quiet, but completely untouched by the sludge from before. Abandoned? Or, perhaps it is so lonely a location, everyone overlooks it.

Field - A long field of pastel purple grass and luscious strawberry pink-red trees with tall buildings off in the horizon... There’s an overwhelming scent of fruit punch on the breeze and- oh! It seems a “Lancer” has left up signage everywhere, warning others in a childish scrawl to not eat from the candy stalls that advertise so loudly and brightly on every path... "The taste of happiness!" the wrapper proclaims. Upon meeting him, there’s a sense that he is perhaps not the most upstanding child with how much he loves to call himself a villain... But- perhaps he has a point, with how the candy seems to beckon the observer with its bright, happy colors... Would you believe this mischievous young lad?

The Scarlet Forest - The smell of sweet fruit punch fades out into spicy cinnamon as the crimson trees seem to grow brighter. A few fallen leaves float on by with the wind as their vehicle, and the stalls from before disappear... Smaller strip malls and buildings abound here... Though there is a large store that calls to each Darkner that approaches with bright neon signs. “Come and see the new line of Halberd Inc. treats!” the dark-circled greeter cries out with a smile so big it looks like it aches, "New improved formula! 150% more sweetness packed in!!" and the huge line of much too eager Darkners that queue up for a taste of the reformulated sweets cheer cacophonously...

Great Board - The smell of licorice envelopes the air in the Great Board, which in and of itself, is filled to the brim with billboards and bright lights and neon signs and weathered posters out the wazoo. It is a smog ridden area, lit only by the blinding neon lights that guide the way up to the castle. There's a small maze of a city here, before the Factory. It's gritty, and dingy, and it smells like a burning dumpster fire there but it is a small bit of respite before trekking elsewhere... Perhaps one could stop at the Boardway Theater, where there's a quaint little horror musical about a killer barber. Song about having "a little ponman", the Halberd Inc. papers last said.

The Factory - Halberd Inc.'s core production facility. Every facet of it is highly secured, contained, and protected. It employs almost every Darkner in the area, in some form or another. If they do not work in the production line, they work in transportation of the products. If they do not transport Halberd Inc. products, they sell the products. Or advertise. Halberd Inc. is inescapable. Halberd Inc. loves you. Halberd Inc. provides for you. Working for Halberd Inc. is happiness. Don't you want to be happy? Feel all sweet inside? The cagey silver-haired assistant hugging his clipboard a little too tightly too his chest doesn't seem all that happy. Maybe if one presses the stressed man, he'll give up the dark secret of this sordid manufacturer... And, quickly, do inform him of where his adopted(?) son has tarried off to.

Characters

Lightners

Kris - The hero of our tale. A quiet kid, normally. Though, normally not so quiet as when they enter the Dark World. They enter a world of sweets and yet their mouth is taken from them, replaced only with a thin, red smile against the purple of their mixed berry gummy flesh. They have no mouth and they must scream.

Susie - A rude girl that's about as tough as leather. ...Makes sense as to why her hide becomes fruit leather, in the Dark World. About as sweet too, deep down. Hard to convince her away from not just absolutely wolfing down all the free food around her though. But... she does listen to Lancer's warnings, thankfully.

Noelle, Asriel, Alphys, Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, Sans, Papyrus - Unchanged. Speculate on what you'd like with them. Though I have thoughts here and there for "sweets" versions of them.

Darkners

Ralsei - A fluffy boy that smells like toothpaste. He'll correct you that it's spearmint that you're picking up and then offer you some sugar free gum. Or an apple. Or some celery. As a healthy snack.

Lancer - The bad guy! ...Or so he says, as he continues to help you through this strange, saccharine world. Just kind of seems like a little kid that means well... A little, jawbreaker-looking kid, with how round he is and the paint splatters from all the signs he makes all over his clothes. ...Are those meant to be there or not?

Seam - The local shopkeep. This purple rock candy feline knows much about this old world and how very terribly the world has been corrupted since the rise of Halberd Inc. Stay a while to keep out from the not-so-fresh air and ask about all the nitty-gritty details, Seam certainly won't mind.

Rouxls - Rex Halberd's right hand man, a frigid blue raspberry slushie of a Kaard and a yes man if ever there was one. Though, only to keep the peace and his life. He only trusts the CEO of Halberd Inc. as far as he can throw him, now that he knows what the candy contains. (He almost throws up every time he thinks about it.) He wants to see the company crash and burn and run away with Lancer to build anew but he's powerless to do so. Rex owns just about everything Rouxls knows... And if Rex doesn't own it yet, he will. A little help or direction for this hopeless assistant would be appreciated.

Jevil - Must be quite the sucker to have searched this far down in the Factory. This swirling lollipop man with a harlequin smile only laughs uncontrollably as you near the bloodied vat of... candy(?) within the room. He was locked in here a while ago and forgotten for the crime of upsetting the CEO with silly games. He wishes to open your mind, see the real truth of this world... Or kill you in the process. Either or.

King - The Rex Halberd. CEO. Father. Friend. Leader. And the most awful person alive. He has more money than most would ever see in 100 lifetimes. He would dangle his own son off of the roof of his factory building. And he would more than happily consume his own products because, just like his workers and his family, the Darkners' bodies used to create his sweets are nothing more than something for him to use and discard when they have become worthless. Kick this dude's fucking ass.

[frostahesmegabite]

How would he react, if he were transported into a "Steampunk" or "Cyberpunk" universe? 🤔 (I'll let you choose between the two.)

[ Good question @jacobdcheshyre! Thankfully with WoW and the Mechagon patch we had, I pretty much got to have that Steampunk sort of vibe for a little bit with the whole scrap yard piping everywhere sort of bit. Albeit, I know that's not 100%, but it gave me a good feel for how excited Mega would be! Needless to say, he walked away from that expansion with several new weapons designs and ideas as well gadgets and a new-found sense of purpose and inspiration. So, for a quick IC post, I'm gonna roll out with Cyberpunk. Now, forewarning, my knowledge here is limited, not out of lack of caring, just never got much time to explore it and my knowledge comes pretty much from Cyberpunk 2077 game, so I'm gonna essentially adapt him for that sort of lore/canon. ] A blinding flash of light and colors occurs! This isn't right! They're not only offensive to the eyes, but each sudden shift comes with a smash of concussive energy as if being hit by a sudden wash of air from an arriving hurricane. The largest problem isn't that it isn't just one, but a reoccurrence whose frequency is picking up in rapidity while being accompanied with the sudden shift of falling! Meghes begins to flip and roll, losing any track of what's up and down and he screams out into the cascade of colors! "Turn tha fuckin machine off! Bring me back!" Panic wasn't setting it, it was already there and was choking him out as he couldn't stabilize due to the turbulence and lack of identification on what was up or down, left or right! Bam! Bam! Bambam! BamBamBam! BAMBAMBAMBAM! Each forceful blow sent him flying in a whole new direction and he'd suddenly vomit, near ready to lose consciousness from it. Then... it settles and a bright light nearly blinds him, forcing his hands up just for him to realize that it's the Sun! Thank the Light! Maybe that was a bit to early though as he realizes he's still in freefall. This he can handle now that he has direction and he quickly flips around, gaining his bearing just to realize this sure as fuck isn't Azeroth anymore! As he flies down towards the ground, smooth towers of steel and glass stab up at the morning sky as if they were pointing up at his point of entry! He tries to scream, asking where the hell he's at but at this speed, words at lost and someone might as well have a leafblower pointed at his mouth. Around this moment is where reality kicks in and he sees the ground coming up -fast- and he casts a Feather Spell! Nothing. Panic sets in and he tries again. Still. Nothing. His mouth opens to scream but it sounds more akin to a blarglglgh! than actual vocabulary. He begins to slap himself, patting himself down for anything, mana crystals? All gone. No recharge. What the fuck?! His hands get to his vest, feeling around. Magical items all gone. Gold damn it! His hands go to his belt buckle, every goblin hand one and thank what the hell ever was watching over him, his belt was still there! His fingers twist off the buckle and he's given a small remote that's palmed and he hits the bright red button upon it, instantly activating his set of rocket boots so he can slow his descent! This wasn't going to save him, there wasn't enough fuel for that, but he had to slow down for the next part or he'd surely just fall to his death! With a few stalling blasts, the device in his hand begins to go off with alarms, warning to a low fuel source and with his other hand, he goes to his work vest and jerks on a rip cord! His clothing explodes out the back (thankfully not out of his ass!) and Goblin Glider's wings extend to the left and right above him as the boots propel him forward as opposed to down, helping to offer leverage so he can steer and glide down properly! Mega would need to thank Maxwell for that. Now though that this emergency was coming to a standstill, he begins to look around, trying to figure out just where the fuck he's at. "Tha hell did that Portal Machine take me..." Mega's body shakes from the adrenaline spike, but he maintains a grip as he soars overhead some mile up off the ground. His red eyes look

over the ground, trying to figure out who the hell built all of this! Was it Goblins? No. Not enough pollution or explosions, at least not here anyways. Gnomes? Maybe... but they tended to favor underground facilities and this certainly wasn't that either! Slowly, people come into better view and the site of vehicles and street vendors and people come into view and the signs! Oh all the signs! So many colors and advertisements! If it wasn't for all the humans plastered and shoved into all of them, he'd swear this was some kind of Goblin City centered entirely on Commerce and Trade, but that's when it hits him. This is nothing but Humans and Humans weren't like this... At least... not back on the Azeroth he knew. He needed time to process this, but with all the new sights and sounds, it was hard to do, even from way up here! "Where the fuck did that portal put me?!" He screams out, a new type of concern coming to mind now as he begins to look for a place to land. There's fucking people everywhere and while he's not familiar with what type of vehicles he's seeing, he sure as hell knows a road (Thanks Kezan!) when he sees one and he makes sure to steer clear from the Highway and the massive metal boxes going gold knows how fast! He starts to scan quickly, there! Trash bags! A heap of crap and junk on the ground, perfect! He begins to steer his glider into an Alleyway, bringing himself in and slowing his assent along the way until his feet touch down and he's left running. He plants his feet and pulls back against the Glider, using it as a counterweight to bring him to a skidding stop just before his crash pad of foul smelling trash! Phew! Mega didn't care about the Glider anymore at this point, nope! It was spent and he'd begin to rush towards the Alleyway entrance, hiding behind a dumpster to scan the area around him. "Well... smells like trash and shit here but... these humans." He pauses, seeing a human walk by with a set of massive mechanical arms that look like they could pulverize stone! But, they move so smoothly! They surpass anything he ever saw with Naturasu's prosthetics or anything the Gnomes or even Draenei came up with! These things moved as if they were essentially organic, but they weren't! Something in Mega's brain breaks in that moment and any fear or concern he has, suddenly floods out of him and is replaced by pure unadulterated excitement and he rushes into the street, scaring the every living fuck out of someone who thought he was some kind of overgrown rat or lab experiment until they see him dressed and moving with purpose! Megahes runs into the crowd and ocean of people, awe and amazement clear on his face as he gets way to close to several people with clear prosthetics and even some of them with weapons right there on their hips or backs! And some of their suits! Mega was in heaven! So many new things to explore! So much to try to take back... [For the sake of this already being -massive-, I'm gonna OoC cut in here and say that I think it's very fair that Megahes would probably have mental orgasms as he learned about everything and while he would try to find a way home, he'd also be working to try to learn as much about all of this that he can so he can take these ideas and designs home as well. Even if he wouldn't ever get back home, his apartment, home or where ever the hell he ended up staying would end up stuffed with nearly every schematic and idea design he could think of to take back. ]

[carminecalico]

Eren x Armin “Fuck Away The Pain” Chapter 3

“A little bit of Sunshine”

*also quick note.

My story is also on Ao3 the link is below I would love it if y’all showed it some love on there too

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809192?view_full_work=true

A family friend of Eren's makes a house call, which leads to a sad confession. But a friend of Armin's might be enough to shift the sullen mood.

Eren pinned Armin’s wrists to the bed smirking down at him. Armin panted heavily with a small blush on his face as he looked up at Eren. Leaning down next to Armin’s ear Eren whispered, "I did warn you what would happen, so do you believe me yet?" Armin nods as Eren places a gentle kiss on his temple, "I told you I could beat you in a wrestling match, you're really fragile. No offense Blondie." Eren lets go of Armin’s wrists to grab his waist and pulls him closer. Armin wraps his arms around the brunette‘s shoulders pulling him down to press their lips together causing Eren to sigh into the kiss.

Armin smiles as he pulls away while playing with Eren’s hair, "You’ve got half a foot on me in height too, I don't know why I thought I could win." Armin sighs softly before gently nudging at Eren who just groans, "Eren I have to get up." The trapped blonde struggles against his captor.

"It's Sunday love, you can be lazy once in a while.” Eren gently laid his body on Armin’s nuzzling his face into the blonde's neck. Eren had talked Armin into spending the weekend at his apartment, the Friday Eren performed, as Reiner went home to see his mom. So Armin was trapped by his beautiful green-eyed boyfriend, (it still felt weird to say that for both parties but in a good way) chuckling as he rested his head against Eren’s smiling. All either had on were a pair of sweatpants but Armin looked even smaller in them seeing how they were Eren’s. Eren had about 6 inches in height and had more muscle mass in general. When Eren first saw Armin in them his heart stuttered because he thought it was just adorable.

Armin held Eren close, running his fingers through the dark locks as his eyes flutter shut. "Fine you win, but you're getting us food when we do get up." The blonde teased before feeling Eren nod. The two laid there in comfortable silence, Eren who had moved his arms to wrap around Armin’s neck, started occasionally pressing light kisses to his neck and shoulder. A small shiver went down his back every time he felt Eren’s lips against his skin. The pair eventually just fell asleep holding each other.

~~~~

"Eren! Damn brat wake up!" Hannes shook Eren’s shoulder trying to get a response out of him. Eren groaned and shrugged off the hand on his shoulder before he snuggled closer to Armin. "Kid, this is cute but get up." Hannes gently smacked the boy's head. Eren rolls over, now laying next to Armin with one arm under his neck. He reaches up with his free hand and rubs his eyes before scanning the room.

"What the fuck are you doing here Hannes?" Eren grumbled before pulling Armin into his chest and wrapped an arm around his waist. Armin let out a sigh as he slowly wakes up and presses a gentle kiss to Eren’s shoulder. "I'm sorry love did I wake you? I didn't mean to." Eren rubs Armins back gently before looking back over at Hannes.

"You don't have to look at me like you hate me kid, it's 3 in the afternoon it's time to get up. I was just coming by to check on you, you haven't called in ages." Hannes leaned against the wall opposite the bed. "I don't have time to make house calls like this all the time Eren, you know your mom made me-"

"I know Hannes!" Eren sighs and looks down at Armin. He presses his lips to Armin’s head, as the blonde sleepily looked up at him smiling. Eren smiles down at Armin before pulling him closer. "Look I promised Armin I'd get us food when we woke up, do you want to join us?" Eren looks up as Hannes nods, Eren gently shakes Armin’s shoulder, "Baby, you awake?” Hannes watches Eren and smiles seeing someone was able to pull him out of the darkness that's surrounded him his whole life. "Five more minutes for you okay?" Armin nods cuddling into the pillows as Eren gets up. He walks into the kitchen and grabs a water bottle from the fridge and downs it in one go.

Hannes follows after Eren and leans on the doorway. "Eren.” Eren hums in response as he stretches his arms up. "Glad you found someone kid." Hannes smiles at him while Eren just rolls his eyes before a smile forces its way onto his face. Hannes just smirks at the kid before grabbing him and putting him in a headlock, "I can still kick your ass though." He laughs as Eren pulls at his arm, and what a sight it is for a still sleepy Armin to walk in on.

The two don't notice the blonde until a sort, "Eren." grabs Eren’s attention. He looks over at where the sound comes from and smiles. "What's going on? Who's this guy?" Eren shoves Hannes off him before walking over to Armin and wraps his arms around the smaller boy's waist. Armin melts into Eren resting his head on his shoulder before bringing his arms up and around the brunette's neck.

Eren brings a hand up to the back of Armin’s neck, “Baby, this is Hannes. He's a friend of my mother. He comes by to check on me every now and then. He's gonna join us for lunch okay Blondie?" Armin nods before he looks up at Eren. "Do you need some coffee?"

"Yes, please. Oh, and it's nice to meet you, sorry I'm not talkative right now I overslept cause someone didn't wanna get up." Armin turned to Hannes and smiled as he rubbed his eyes. Eren walks over and starts making coffee after pressing a kiss to Armin’s shoulder, "I'm gonna go get dressed Eren." Armin walks back into Eren‘s room and changes into his jeans. "I'd rather not wear the same outfit twice in a row, I doubt Eren would mind if I borrowed one of his." He looked through Eren’s closet and grabbed a black t-shirt without looking at the front, it says "fuck you you fucking fuck" on the front. Armin walked to Eren’s dresser and started gathering the top half of his hair before looking in the mirror on top. He saw the writing on the shirt he grabbed and laughed as he put the gathered hair up in a ponytail.

Eren poured coffee into 3 mugs handing one to Hannes before carrying the other two into his room, "Baby? Coffee’s ready." He walks over to Armin offering one of the mugs that the blonde took from him smiling. Eren leans in pressing his lips to Armin’s smiling as he grabs the back of his head. The blonde smiles into the kiss before pulling away to take a much-needed sip of his coffee. Eren looked down noticing the shirt Armin had on, "That’s the shirt you're wearing?" He asked chuckling lightly, "Oh man I hope you don't turn into me Blondie."

"I doubt I will babe, I don't plan on sleeping with a professor." Armin smirks at Eren from behind his mug. Eren's face drops in shock before he just stares at Armin with his mouth open.

"Wooow..... We're already picking on me for that." Eren laughs before grabbing the blonde’s waist and pulling him up against himself. "You are ruthless." Armin smiles innocently as he shrugs after putting down his mug. Eren kisses Armin briefly before pulling away and rubs small circles in the blonde's back with his thumb. "I gotta get dressed so we can head out." Eren presses his lips to the other's forehead as he lets go then makes his way to his closet. He grabs a black and white striped long sleeve and a pair of ripped black jeans, quickly throwing them on. Armin finished his coffee and got his shoes on before taking the two empty mugs to the sink. Eren threw a black band shirt on over the long sleeve and quickly put his combat boots on.

"So kid, what do you do?" Hannes asked Armin as he left his mug in the sink.

Armin hopped up on the counter and leaned against one of the cabinets. "I'm majoring in oceanography at Rose College. I just turned in my Junior thesis."

"On yeah? On what?"

"Upper Ocean and Submesoscale Processes." Armin looked over at Hannes to see his face twisted up in confusion. He started laughing, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Hannes watches the blonde smiling as one-word circles through his mind to describe him as 'Sunshine'. Armin calms down from laughing and wipes the tears off his face, "I'm sorry Hannes, I don't mean to laugh I just find it funny that it sounds like gibberish to some people." Armin takes a deep breath before looking at Hannes. "Basically it's about ocean currents interacting with other bodies of water."

“Don’t feel too bad about yourself Hannes, Armin’s just 100 times nerdier than us." Eren teased as he walked into the room. Immediately finding his place between Armin’s legs he leaned his back against him. Armin quickly wrapped his arms around Eren’s shoulders. "What do you wanna eat baby?” Eren asked leaning his head on Armin’s shoulder.

“Ramen and dumplings?” Armin suggested to which the other two shrugged in agreement. Eren tapped Armin’s thighs prompting the blonde to wrap his legs around him. Armin laughed lightly as Eren lifted him up and proceeded to carry him out of the apartment. Hannes leads them to his car and they all got in with Eren riding shotgun. Eren reaches a hand back behind his seat and motions for Armin to take his hand. Armin grabs Eren’s hand smiling while looking out the window. "You never told me what you do Hannes.”

"I'm a security officer, I'm contracted to a couple of places like sports stadiums and some smaller concert venues. It's nothing flashy but they don't notice if you indulge in a drink or two while on the clock." Hannes chuckles as he pulls up to the restaurant.

Eren gets out of the car and opens Armin’s door before offering a hand to him to help him out of the car. Armin smiles and takes his hand as he gets out of the car. The three walk in and sit down at one of the tables. Even sat on the inside of the booth next to Armin while Hannes sat across from them. They all ordered their food and made some small talk until Hannes brought up a less than pleasant event coming up. "Eren you know the memorial is next weekend right?"

"Hannes!" Eren stared at Hannes angrily. "Yea I know can we not talk about this right now?" His leg started bouncing as he cursed himself mentally for taking the inside seat. Eren rested his elbows on the table clasping one hand around his fist.

"Memorial? What for?" Armin asked looking at Hannes as he crossed his arms on the table.

Hannes awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck looking down at his lap. "Guess he hasn't told you about this." Hannes looked back up and over to Eren who avoided looking at anyone by fixing his gaze out the window resting his chin on his hands. “Eren lost his mom when he was little and we haven’t seen his dad since. I took him in until he was old enough to live on his own but I try to keep an eye on him still cause as much of a brat as he is I still care about him. I was kinda like an unrelated uncle while Carla was around. We have a memorial service for her every year just a few of us that were close to her."

Eren wanted to run like he always did when he got anxious and uncomfortable. His fight or flight response was in overdrive but he couldn't fight his way out of this and he knew that. His breathing became shallow and uneven the longer he felt trapped. Eren started fidgeting with his mothers' ring that he kept on his left middle finger, he had really slender fingers for a guy so it fits perfectly. "Thanks, Hannes this is exactly what I wanted to think about today." He snapped as he gave Hannes a cold glare.

"You're lucky you had Hannes, Eren.” Armin said quietly looking down at the table. Eren started to respond before Armin cut him off. "My parents were killed in a bank robbery when I was 7, so my grandpa took me in. 2 years later he had a heart attack while working out on the field of our farm. My family was really closed off and didn't care to make friends so I was put in a group home where I met Mikasa. She started working at 14 to save up for an apartment for us and I delve into my studies to try to get a full ride to college. We didn't let a lot of people in back then, Jean was the first to break our wall down while we were in middle school." His words came out quiet and almost empty. At some point during his story, Armin had leaned back on the back of the booth and was looking straight ahead blankly. "Jean helped break us out of our shells and found some amazing friends through him. Don't get me wrong we love them dearly, I mean they brought light back into our lives, but we still lacked any real guardians. We had to grow up pretty quickly and take care of ourselves heaven knows the group home staff wasn't going to, they just treated us like pets." Armin shook his head before looking between the two. "Sorry I didn't mean to go on such a tangent."

"Armin...." Eren looked at him almost tearing up.

"I only meant to say I was envious you still had something like a family to look after you, I didn't mean to dump all of that on you two." Armin leaned forward again resting his elbows on the table as he buried his face in his hands. "I really am sorry you guys, I guess I was just holding that in for a while."

"C’mere kid I'm told I give good dad hugs." Hannes slides out of the booth and walks over to Armin and holds his arms out. Armin lifts his head out of his hands his eyes follow Hannes before he quickly gets up and tightly wraps his arms around him burying his face in the older man's chest. Hannes wraps one arm around Armin’s waist and holds the back of his head with his other hand. "I'm gonna give you my number if you or your friend ever need something you can call me okay? No kid should have to go through life without something like a guardian. I'm far from perfect but I do what I can." Armin nodded as a single tear trailed down his face. Eren gets out of the booth before putting a hand on Armin’s shoulder awkwardly, he wasn't great at the whole comforting thing.

Armin looks up from Hannes' chest to Eren before he grabs his shirt and pulls him into the hug. Eren stumbles into the two blondes before wrapping an arm around Armin resting his head on top of the shorter blonde. Hannes chuckles letting ago of Armin so Eren can hold him and sat back down. Eren awkwardly mimicked Hannes' hug holding him close.

"SASHA! You're late you've got a table to tend to hurry up!" Someone shouted from the back. Armin looked over at the door where Sasha was.

"Sasha?!" Armin gasped seeing his high school friend.

"No way! Armin? What are you doing here?! I haven't seen you since Conny’s birthday!" Sasha ran over to her friend who lept into her arms and they held each other tightly. After a little bit, she held him at arm's length, "Are you sitting here?" She asked to which Armin nodded and her eyes lit up, “You’re in my section! Gimme like two seconds I gotta put my bag in the back and put on my apron, I'll be right back!" She rushed off to the back and Armin sat back down in the booth.

"Sasha's one of my friends from high school, I haven't seen her in seven months?" Armin looks over at Eren and presses a quick kiss to his lips. Eren grabs Armin’s hand under the table intertwining their fingers together.

Sasha comes back to the table carrying their food over on a tray. "Okay, so I know the Kagoshima is Armin’s, who got the Okinawa soba?” Hannes raised his hand as Sasha sets Armin’s down, "Awesome, so you got the Kurume?" She asked as she placed Hannes' down. Eren nodded and Sasha put his down followed by the plate of dumplings. "Mind if I sit here?" She asked Hannes and he shook his head before starting to eat. She sat down putting the tray behind her. "How've you been? It's been months." She was taking care to avoid mentioning Jean, not knowing how he was handling it.

"It’s been way too long, sorry I got so outta touch. I was in rough shape after the breakup. But I'm good now, I aced my junior thesis Friday. Mikasa and I just moved into a new apartment four months ago, you and Conny have to come over and check it out soon, it's got a beautiful view of the ocean."

"Definitely! We'd love to see Mikasa again." She smiled brightly at Armin, leaning on the table. "And I'm glad to hear you're doing well, Conny and I wanted to check-in but it seemed like you just needed some space. Oh, who's he?" She asked pointing at Eren. "Also who's this guy?" She aimed her finger at Hannes.

"Well this is Eren," Armin locks eyes with Eren before dopey grins make their way onto both faces. "My boyfriend." Sasha's jaw drops as Eren winks at Armin causing the blonde to blush faintly. "Oh and that's ‘Uncle Hannes'."

"Hold on." Sasha fumbles with her phone and scrolls through her pictures. She held it up after finding a picture of Jean. Armin turns his head to look at her phone. "You’re telling me you went from this-" She points at the picture with her free hand. "to that?" Sasha points at Eren with her eyebrow quirked up in confusion. Eren gets an offended look on his face before Armin nods smiling. "Well damn, you know he's still like a brother to me, but talk about an upgrade. What do you do Eren?"

"I'm a music major over at Sina University and about 3-4 nights a week my band and I perform at different bars in the area. That’s how I met Armin, we were playing at Mikasa’s bar. It's actually our collective favorite bar to play at, great atmosphere." Eren turns to Armin, who's holding up a dumpling to him, and opens his mouth allowing Armin to feed it to him.

Meanwhile Sasha is holding her head in disbelief, she appears to be frozen. Hannes tries gently poking her shoulder, “Uh... I think you broke her."

"Nah just give her a minute, this happens a lot." Armin waves off Hannes' concern before taking a sip of his drink.

“YOU'RE DATING A MUSICIAN?!" Sasha all but screams. "Wait since when do you go to bar shows? You never went to them. Also when is your next show? Conny and I have been dying to go to a bar show but we couldn't find any."

"See? Told you she's fine. Mikasa basically dragged me to that show, she wanted me to try a night out. Trust me I haven't changed all that much."

"Did I ever send you the video someone took of us performing that song?" Eren asked with his head slightly tilted.

Armins eyes shot open, “There’s a video....?" Eren nodded at Armin smirking.

"Bertholdt’s girlfriend, Annie, took it. She's a great videographer. Wanna see it, Sasha?" Eren pulled his phone out as Sasha nodded aggressively. Eren scrolls through his phone to find the video. “It’s not one we’re gonna post to our channel for the privacy sake of Armin but it looks great.” Eren hands Sasha his phone before wrapping an arm around Armin, whose face is as red as a tomato. “I’m kind of over the top when I’m performing, but it’s fun and everyone seems to like it.”

Armin just buried his face in Eren’s chest. “In my defense, I was pretty tipsy, Mikasa only makes strong drinks but didn’t tell me!” Armin whines softly while Eren rubs his back.

“I thought you did great baby.” Eren pressed a kiss to Armin’s head chuckling at the blonde's quiet mumbling about how 'he's never gonna drink again' and 'he just wants to go hide in some ocean cave with the fishies'. "Oh also we're actually playing Mikasa’s bar again this Friday, you and Conny should come we’ve got a killer setlist in mind."

"Armin! Who knew you were so bold? I'm impressed and Eren, you have an amazing voice, seriously." Sasha handed Eren his phone back bowing his head slightly at the compliment. "And yea we're both free Friday, we'll be there. Is Mikasa working Friday? Do you know Armin?" Sasha asked as a small blush appeared on her cheeks.

"She’s a bartender and it's a Friday, of course, she is." Armin stated without looking up from Eren’s chest, however, the blush didn't go unnoticed by the brunette. He smirked slightly as an idea pops into his head.

"You've never told Mikasa you're into her have you, Sasha?" Eren asks simply looking out the window. Armin’s head snaps up in confusion. " I'd say something before someone else steals her heart. At least one show a week I'd have to save her from some creep hitting on her."

Armin laughs lightly, "Don’t be silly Sasha's dating Nicolo right Sa-“ Armin turns to Sasha seeing her now red face. His eyes widen, " Why didn't you tell me? I could've tried to- actually I get why, I would've slipped up in excitement."

"I've been trying to work up the guts for the last 2 years. Nicolo knew we were never official." Sasha dropped her head on the table. "I don't even know how to-"

Eren cut her off handing her his phone. "Find a song that either best describes her, or your feelings for her. My band and I learn songs quickly so we'll be able to perform it Friday." Eren looks at Sasha smiling. “I don't have guts to say stuff like that either, not without music. It's my biggest form of communication. The plus side to that, music is universally understood, so it resonates and people respond to that."

“Sing this with me? I'd be too nervous alone but I should be a part of it, she deserves that." Sasha explains as she plays an acoustic song. "If you don't know guitar, I can pick a different-"

"If the first round's on you," Eren holds out his hand, "then you got a deal." Sasha smiles and shakes his hand. "Gimme two days to learn instrumental and work out my vocals, I'll have Armin give me your number schedule a studio/practice session at Sina.”

“SASHA! YOU HAVE ANOTHER TABLE NOW!”

"Gotta run it was great meeting you." Sasha rushes off to tend to the couple sat in her section.

"How long have you realized that about your relationship to music, Eren? I knew since you were young, but I thought you were totally oblivious." Hannes said making Eren jump a bit, kinda forgot he was there.

"Started realizing it in senior year? I think the summer going into my sophomore year at Sina I had it pretty much figured out." Eren explained without hostility or sarcasm, he was smiling. "Music‘s easy and beautiful."

[florenceandthemachine]

BROKEN TUMBLR ASKS PART ??: WHY DOES THIS WEBSITE SUCK SO BAD.

anonymous  asked:

“For Buddie prompts: Eddie looking after a sick Buck?”

ooo, sorry, we actually all out of fluffy sickfics, here’s... this instead xoxo 

“You’re exhausting.”

Buck hears the words ringing in his head as he clears another room, smoke swirling above him, his gear heavy on his frame. The chatter on the radio was drowned out by the roar of the flames, and it was about all he could do to keep an ear open for his name.

Kicking another door in, Buck has to grit his teeth to keep a groan of pain behind his lips, his leg throbbing—not for the first time that night. The screws had come out of his leg months ago, but that didn’t mean he was back to 100, not yet anyway; sometimes he just hurt. Neuropathic pain was something he could expect to have flair up until the wound fully healed—which could take years, according to his doctor, but...

“We all have our problems, but you don’t see us whining about it.”

But he was not about to bring it up, not about to risk... everything. His team was finally talking to him again. He was finally being brought on calls again. He could keep this to himself. He could go on without whining about it.

He had to.

Fuck, his leg hurt. Neuropathic pain was supposedly a dull, throbbing pressure, but all Buck could feel was fire, like a hot knife had torn him to the bone. Not for the first time, he only allowed himself a moment of “it isn’t fair” before he bottled all that down, gritting his teeth as he braced himself against another door, prepared to burst through the brittle, burning wood.

“Get clear, everyone. The building is getting too unstable—that means you, Buck.”

“Right, Cap.”

As if Buck would have risked disobeying another order, as long as he lived. He wasn’t about to let his problems become someone else's problems, never again.

“Somehow, we all manage to suck it up.”

“Cap, I have another resident down here!”

“Got it, Eddie. Buck, give him a hand.”

They were both on the ground floor, thankfully, and the screen on Buck’s wrist led him right to Eddie, who was trying to help an older woman up and out of her bed. It was becoming rapidly clear that she was going to need to be carried, and Buck didn’t waste any time in latching his arm with Eddies, hoisting the woman out of the apartment and bringing her out to a waiting gurney.

“Somehow, we all manage to suck it up.”

They may have been free of the inferno, but Buck’s leg was on fire. He had to make sure he was the last on the engine before they took off so no one would notice his unsteady footing, and he managed to pass off his groan of relief as a sigh when he sat down, feeling the sway of the engine as Bobby started to drive away.

They still had a good six hours left on their shift—God willing, they wouldn’t get any other major calls, and Buck could get some rest. All that he wanted was a shower and some sleep.

“Somehow, we all manage to suck it up.”

He managed to hide his pain with a smile as he de-geared with the rest of the team, always making sure that he was back far enough that his gait would be ignored, but not so far as to arouse suspicion. As much as he wanted to jump into the shower, he wasn’t sure how well he would be able to hide his pain if he had to bend over, or if, God forbid, he were to slip against the tile. He chose a bed instead—he probably still smelled of soot and sweat, but he was beyond the point of caring, and found himself obscenely thankful that the quiet room was on the first floor, and not up the stairs where the loft was. Buck was usually the last to sleep on shift, too busy being around everyone else, working out, anything he could be doing to absorb the companionship and company that came with a shared 24 hour shift, but… that was just another thing that the lawsuit had taken from him, he thought to himself, blindly propping his hurt leg with a pillow as he collapsed into the nearest cot.

“Why can’t you?”

Six more hours. He could make it six more hours.

--

Eddie was not having the best day.

Week.

Month?

He had been struggling, okay?

Part of him had hoped, maybe naively, that once the lawsuit was done, once Buck was back on the house, that… things would be back to normal. He had hoped that he and Buck could be back to normal.

Buck, obviously, hadn’t gotten the memo, because somehow, things were even worse than they were when the lawsuit was in full swing. Buck was still there, he was going through the motions, but that was it. Eddie should have known it would be too easy to hope for the easy camaraderie that there was before, but he had at least hoped they would be able to talk—even that was proving to be harder than pulling teeth.

In hindsight, of course, Eddie had realized that a good amount of the distance that had grown between them was his fault—he knew his anger had gotten the best of him when the lawsuit had started (hell, the near fatality in his little fight ring had proven that), and once it was wrapped up, it was still nearly impossible for him to look Buck in the eye.

He wasn’t proud of it, but that opinion really didn’t change until he realized what Buck had given up just to get back on the squad.

Millions of dollars. Millions. Eddie loved his job, but if someone offered him a chunk of change like that, he would have taken it and never looked back, but all Buck wanted to do was come back to his team—his family—and didn’t that just dig the knife in a little deeper?

Now, though, Eddie was determined to make it right. Even if it meant waking Buck up, dragging his ass out of the sleep room, and forcing him in to a family dinner with the rest of the squad.

“Buck, you up?”

Eddie could see the other male splayed outing a cot, his silhouette barely visible in the dimmed light. He felt bad about waking the other up—especially after how hard he had known Buck had been working—but the best time to start to apologize would have been yesterday, and today was just delaying the inevitable.

He took a few steps into the room and gently shook Buck’s leg, blinking in surprise as his hand touched dampness—was Buck sweating?

He pulled his hand up, examining it in the light from the doorway. It was… dark?

It was red.

“Buck?”

Fuck, it was red.

“Buck… oh fuck, Buck, oh fuck—“

Eddie felt his hands flying now, his voice kicking up as he spoke, throwing blanket and pillows across the room. Buck was pale, inhumanly so, and he immediately started checking for vitals as he started to shout.

“Buck, come on, wake up, Buck!”

Pulse was present, barely, thready and weak.

“Buck! Hen, Chim! Help! Buck, no, Buck!!”

--

It was a laceration. A cut, only a few inches long, along his leg, that had cut right through his PPE, and right through the first few layers of tissue in his leg. The doctor that had cleaned out the wound had pulled out shards of splintered wood, which was concerning in its own right; even though he was off blood thinners, the constant motion had kept the wound open, for… fuck, for what must have been hours.

Eddie didn’t need a doctor to get that confirmation. The blood that had pooled around the cot certainly didn’t come from a few moments—and even before then, the spatters on the floor, the soaked tear in the pant leg... it was more than enough to set Eddie on edge.

He had sent up a silent thanks to Carla, patron saint of child care, as he sat beside Eddie in the emergency room, patiently waiting for Buck to regain consciousness. No surgery required, thank God—just a dozen or so stitches, about three pints of blood, and a steady drip of pain medication.

And, okay. Maybe he was indulging himself, holding onto Buck’s hand as he started to stir once more, not bothering to hide the massive wave of relief that crashed over him when Buck started to stir again.

The pain-medication-laced smile that Buck shot him was one of the most beautiful things Eddie had ever seen.

“Hi Eddie!”

“Hey Buckaroo.”

He even sounded happy. God, Eddie missed that, seeing a shadow of his old Buck, the one who smiled and was happy and pain free, and it definitely disturbed him that he couldn’t remember the last time Buck had seemed so happy.

The moment wasn’t designed to last, though—as Buck started to take in more and more of his surroundings, his smile slipped off of his face, and it didn’t take the heart rate monitor amping up its speed to tell Eddie that Buck was starting to panic.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, Buck. You just needed to get patched up and you’re going to be okay.”

“Fuck, Eddie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Wait, what the fuck? “Buck, it was an accident. You’re okay.” He really hoped his voice was more soothing than confused, because Buck looked dangerously close to tears.

“It was an accident, Eddie, I promise. I swear I didn’t mean to, I was trying to be careful and I didn’t mean to get hurt, you can’t let Bobby kick me off the squad again, Eddie, please.”

Eddie felt like his voice might have been as raw as Bucks, shaking off the shock at that admission, moving to gently grip Buck’s shoulders. “Woah, Buck, we know you didn’t mean to. Bobby isn’t mad, he and the rest of the squad had to bring the rig back, they’ll be here soon, they wanna see you, and—”

“I just—I didn’t want to bother anyone, I know it’s exhausting trying to put up with me sometimes, so I didn’t want to—“

“Woah woah woah, Buck, slow down, you—you’re not exhausting, who the fuck even told you that?”

There was an auditable click as Buck shut his mouth, his eyes pained and his face bright red, and Eddie had a minute to look him over before reality came crashing around his head.

“…I said that, didn’t I? Oh fuck, Buck, you have to know I was just talking out of my ass, okay? I was just angry, of course I didn’t mean it.”

“But it’s true, Eds, I have to suck it up and deal with it, it’s not fair for me to lay all of it on you guys at work, and I’m sorry, but you can’t tell Bobby—it’s hard, but I’m getting better at it! I promise, I can’t lose you all again, please, I—“

His voice dies in his throat as Eddie pulls him into his arms, crushing him in a tight hug, and Buck can’t breathe, his eyes burning with tears as Eddie buries his head in his neck. Eddie didn’t speak until Buck finally started to hug him back, arms uncertain. “You’re not going to lose us, Buck. Never again. I promise, okay? You’re basically stuck with us until the end of time, I’m not going to let you go, and neither is Chris, and neither is the 118.”

The muffled sob that Buck let out into his shoulder told Eddie all he needed to know. They had all fucked up, hard, if that had been the looming fear behind all of Buck’s decisions lately. He had been self isolating from the team, he wasn’t cracking jokes, he didn’t even come up for family dinners unless he was specifically asked to—and while Eddie thought they had all just needed some time, Buck had been suffering in silence since he returned.

Fuck.

“Buck, listen to me. We are your family. We fight sometimes, and we all make mistakes, and I’m so, so sorry that we made this mistake, okay? But no matter what, we love you. Chim, Hen, Bobby, Mads, hell, even Athena, and... and me, Buck, we love you. I love you. So please, stop beating yourself up over it and just... let us love you, okay?”

Eddie reluctantly let go as he felt Buck start to pull back, his face contorted in fear and pain, but his expression started to smooth out as he nodded, the machine next to him beeping and whirring as his heart rate started to go down. The pain medicine couldn’t have picked a better time for another dose. Eddie started to ease him back onto the bed as Buck’s eyelids started to droop, only comforted by the even rise and fall of his chest.

"Thanks, Eddie...”

Eddie let out a short, wet laugh as Buck finally relaxed against the bed, treated to another smile before Buck slipped into unconsciousness.

“...love you, too.”

And Buck was out again.

Eddie didn’t even have time to process what Buck had said, distracted by the swoosh of automatic doors, multiple voices talking at once as the 118 poured back into the emergency room, officially off shift, and Eddie gave Bucks’ hand a squeeze—just one—before he stood up and left the curtained off bed, ready to face the team with the grim reality Buck had just tossed into his lap.

They had work to do.

But Buck... Buck was worth every minute of it.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Heart Shaped Bed

Mob Boss! Mikey x fem reader

Summery: It’s Halloween and you’re just looking for some fun of the dangerous variety. Enter: Michelangelo. A psychotic mob boss from hell who is in love with your best friend. Can you win him over and at what cost?

Warnings: NSFW, violence, alcohol mentions, car accident

((A/N: I have trouble writing crazy character despite being labelled as crazy myself, Mikey is tricky to write for in this AU so just bear with me))

October 31st, the night where all the ghouls and ghosts come out to play and superstition is at it’s highest since it’s rumoured that the veil between our world and the next is at it’s thinnest. You pull your skirt down your leg a little and take another sip of your free beer, one of the only perks of having a best friend who works at a bar. Paddy’s is always packed at this time of year, everyone is in costumes and drunk out of their minds; you are no different. You’re dressed as a sexy school girl because originality was never your forte and you wanted to show off your boobs a little, so what? You have the outfit down, complete even with bows on the thigh high socks and you look damn good.

It’s too loud to have a decent conversation with “Monster mash” blaring over the small speakers on the bar so you sit and give Sophie (Peach, as you know her) a forlorn look as if to say “more beer, please” and she complies. Peach looks radiant as she pulls the tap to refill your glass. Her light peach hair trailing down over her shoulders and her uniform or black slacks and a white t shirt with dark green hem hugging all of her curves. She was difficult to compete with but she was still so modest and complimentary of you it was hard to hold it against her. You knew half the regulars only came her to watch her, it didn’t stop you going after them though.

Looking around the room you watch and drunk idiots spill their drinks and desperately try to find someone to take home despite looking a mess, covered in fake blood or with vampire fangs. It was really something to watch. A guy in a ladybug costume fawns over a women dressed as Moticia Adams only to get the cold shoulder. You chuckle to yourself. Sat in the far corner of the room, at their usual table, sat the Turtle boys, a notorious gang in upside New York. They weren’t in costume, too good for it you assumed, and they didn’t look happy. You were aware, through Peach, that they made unsavoury deals in the back office of the bar and maybe tonight something went awry.

“Hey, babes!” you call over to Peach who is passing the incredible hulk a bud light “What happened over there?” you say gesturing subtly to the four well suited turtles.

“Not sure, I heard some yelling from the back room and then they came out. Something to do with that serial killer I think” She replies.

So a serial killing is hurting business. Huh. That explains their looking like someone died, someone has... You couldn’t keep your eyes from flitting towards them, sitting there so stoic and commanding while nursing a few now almost gone whiskys.

“Hey” you call over again. Peach turns and gives you a smile to let you know she’s listening “Isn’t that one the guy who-”

“- who choked out Steve for grabbing my ass? Yeah, that’s the one” she finishes your sentence for you.

You smile to yourself, Steve definitely deserved it. Pervert. You knew the turtle’s name but, like all residents of the bar, were reluctant to use it lest they hear you. But, tonight was a night to be brave and take chances, and you’d always wanted to bed one of them. Think of the status that gives you, sleeping with one of the most violent, deplorable men in the state. You know Mikey has a thing for Peach, on other nights his eyes don’t leave her, not that she notices; a good girl like her doesn’t have time for those “downworlders” as she calls them.

“Barkeep! I’ll take 4 martinis if you don’t mind. It’s time to take my shot” you announce to Peach who gives you a weary smile as she makes your drinks and places them on a tray in front of you.

You adjust your green and navy blue pleated skirt, hiking it further up so that the bottom of your ass cheeks would be on view and head over to the turtles, tray in hand.

You set down the drinks in front of them and say, with a smile:

“We have a special offer on tonight, boys. Buy four drinks and get me for free”

They stare at you completely unamused, but their looks weren’t going to discourage you now.

“Oh come on” you begin “That line would have killed two tables over”

Michelangelo takes a finger and runs it around the rim of his glass a few times before tipping it over, the contents of the glass spilling all over the table and onto your skirt. You jump back.

“Hey, what the fuck!” you cry out

“Act like a slut, get treated like a slut” he states.

With your tail between your legs, you huff and walk away. They didn’t have to be such assholes about it, and it kind of stung that you basically offered up your pussy on a plate and they sneered at you.

Back at the bar Peach raises her eyebrows as you take a few napkins and try and dry off your skirt.

“So, how’d it go?” she inquires

“About as well as you can expect from four mutant, snobby, rich dickheads”you reply. Peach leans over the bar and gives you a small hug and kiss on the cheek as her condolences.

Suddenly you feel eyes on you and turn around to see Michelangelo staring at you, mouth slightly agape and a strange look in his eyes. You would have called it regret, if you thought he was capable of feeling that. You ignore it and turn back to your drink.

You sense a presence behind you and turn once more to find him standing next to you looking awfully sheepish.

“Look” he begins “I’m...I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know you were a friend of- is there some way I can make it up to you? Is what I’m trying to say”

“Do you have a fresh size 3 shirt in that booth with you?” your snarky side is coming out

He laughs it off 

“No, but can I buy you a drink or” He looks you up and down “Interest you in any extra curricular activities?” His smile is so bright and charming, you feel yourself almost forgiving him for what had just occurred. And he was devilishly good looking, which helped a lot.

You trace your fingers lightly up his arm until they reach his shoulder.

“You wanna get out of here?”

He smirks, looks down and then back up at you

“Sure”

_____

Outside of the bar is freezing, especially in the tiny outfit you’re wearing and you shiver in the cold October air. Mikey shrugs off his blazer and puts it over your shoulders but you get the impression he’s doing this out of obligation rather than affection. It’s something about his movements, they feel more...Awkward and unsteady than fluid and confident. You know this isn’t his first time taking a girl home from Paddy’s, so you don’t fully understand what his deal it.

You arrive at his car, and despite knowing nothing about vehicles you can recognise that he drives a black Bentley and it must have cost him a fortune, not that he didn’t have the money. He could buy it 100 times over and still have more cash than half the people in New York.

He opens the passenger side door for you and you get in.

“So, my place or yours?” you ask

“Motel” he says plainly.

Curiouser and curiouser... You try and make a list of everything you know about him. He won’t take you home, he’s hot then cold and he has a thing for Peach. It clicks in your head. He’s using you to get closer to her. You almost smile, this was such a typical thing to happen to you, of course he only wants you for your relationship to her. It doesn’t matter either way, you’ll warm him up for her.

He drives fast and it’s not long before your on a highway and definitely breaking the speed limit.

You had been making casual conversation, the drive was always the worst part of a hook up, now you have to actually talk to them instead of make out. 

“I feel like we should have taken an uber” you say

He doesn’t turn to look at you or speak

“Because that way I could be touching you right now” You place a hand on his thigh and he still gives you no response. “Anndd you’re not listening. Great.”

He takes his eyes off the road and turns to you

“You’re the oldest in your family, you work as a manager in a clothing store but can’t fucking stand it there and you feel like we should have gotten an uber so you could be touching me right now. Did I get that right?”

You stare back at him slightly aghast and he continues to watch you. Suddenly you realise he hasn’t looked at the road this entire time and the car in front of you is slowing down

“Watch out!” you scream and the car swerves before he gains control again and brakes, the car rocking side to side a little from the sudden movements. You’re breathless and you turn to look at Mikey who simply bursts out laughing while he continues to drive, his eyes wide as full moons. He’s sick you think to yourself. Lucky you like that in a man, and there’s nothing like a near death experience to get the blood pumping.

You continue the car ride for a while in silence apart from the odd laugh from him who still seems amused that you nearly crashed.

He pulls off the side of the road into some shitty looking motel. A huge florescent sign that reads “Blue Moon Motel” sparks a little which doesn’t offer you any comfort. This place was a dump, but if it had a bed it would do.

________

Inside the room you shake off the blazer he gave you onto the chair in the corner of the room, by the end of the bed. The interior was cute, all shades of blue and white and the bed sheets has little lace style trimmings.which was delicate and sweet.

You fling yourself onto the bed, kicking off your shoes and pull out your phone, you decide you need music for this momentous occasion. You settle on “Heart Shaped Bed” by Nicole Dollanganger and press play. It’s creepy enough to be fitting for Halloween but slow enough to be romantic. The opening notes of the piano begin to stream from your phone which you place on the nightstand.

*lay me down, on a heart shaped bed Pretend it’s out wedding, pretend we just met*

“So” you spread your legs a little and look at Mikey “How do you want me?”

He gives you a wicked smile and then he’s upon you, biting and sucking at the delicate flesh of your neck with vigour. Clearly he couldn’t wait any longer you thought to yourself.

*Pretend we're in one of those movies They rent in the back of every seedy place We pass on the interstate*

You angle your head to kiss his mouth but he pulls away, making it clear that this is not a romantic occasion, this is just fucking and he doesn’t want you in that way. It doesn’t bother you, it just heightens the whole “big bad mob boss” fantasy although you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little disappointed by it.

he tears your blouse open revealing your chest and begins his work sucking and biting at your nipples and the tender skin of your breasts, you look down and can already see pinky purple bruises forming, a treasure map of where his mouth had been.

You moan a little at his touch but he continues his work down your stomach and towards your most sensitive area. Lifting up your skirt he places a kiss on you clothes mound before peeling off your underwear. You raise your hips slightly to help his get them off with ease and then he returns back down, licking between your folds until his tongue passes over your clit and causes you to moan hard.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

“You want this?” he says from between your thighs, you can feel his hot breath against your skin, a sensation that is more than pleasant. 

“Yes, god yes” you squirm

“No.You wanna act like a slut, you get fucked like a slut” he returns.

Before you have time to respond her grabs you by the ankle and flips you over onto your stomach before pulling your hips up so that you’re on your knees with your shoulders and face still down on the bed. You hear him undo his flies and think for a moment as he lines up with your entrance

“wait, don’t we need protectio-” before you can finish he’s inside you and thrusting hard and deep, he gives you no time to adjust to his size and he is very sizeable... You cry out in the mixture of pain and pleasure that he’s giving you. As well as the music, the room fills with the obscene sounds of his flesh pounding against yours and the wet noises your pussy makes as he pushes in and out of you.

“you think sluts use protection?” he mocks

He feels to good for you to want him to pull out now, so you go with it, but raise yourself onto your elbows. His hands are on your hips but he trails one down your back to grab at your ponytail and pull your head back.

*So get the room with the heart shaped bed Make something gross feel romantic*

Your walls tighten around him and that elicits a grunt from him as he begins to pound harder into you, smacking your ass hard as he does. He pulls out and flips you over back onto your back and holds your legs up to your chin, his strong arm keeps them in place as he realigns himself with your entrance and pushes back in. This new position allows him to get deeper which you think is what he was hoping for.

*Make me so no one will ever want me again*

Now he has a full view of your face, eyes squeezed closed and face contorted in pleasure

“Open your eyes” he demands “Look at me when I’m fucking you”

He’s still fully clothed which you’re a little unhappy about, so you open your eyes and begin to undo his shirt. Your fingers tremble slightly partially from the force at which he’s fucking you, partially do to the alcohol you had that night.

*'Cause when I sleep with faith, I only Find a corpse in my arms on awakening*

You slide his shirt over his shoulders and throw it across the room, raising your head a little you bite into his now exposed shoulder to stifle your moans. You don’t understand how he can bring you so close to the brink this soon, but his pace is unyielding and unwavering. He fucks you like he’s punishing you.

He grabs you by the chin and squeezes 

“Open your mouth!”

you do as you’re told and he purses his lips, pauses and then spits down your throat, pushing at your chin to close your mouth and encouraging you to swallow. He’s disgusting but being treated this way only turns you on more, much to your shame, you can feel your cheeks flush with blood as he smiles down at you one he hears that familiar *gulp* sound.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

He pulls out once more and gets of the bed which confuses you for a second, until he pulls you up by the hair and leads you to the wall. He spins you around and so you’re facing it and pushes your shoulders forwards and pulls your hips back so he has easier access to your pussy. He plunges his cock back inside of you and you rest your face against the wall as you take him in all the way. You think you might start seeing stars if he continues like this. Never mind him being a probable killer, they should lock him up for murdering your pussy.

One of his hands rakes through your hair and pulls back your head while the other reaches around to your face and pinches your nose shut while covering your mouth. You can’t breath at all and begin to panic slightly but also whine into his hand because of how good he feels inside you.

you feel that tightness in the pit of your stomach and know that you’re close, you try and moan into his hand, shaking your head a little from side to side to try and get him off your face but it’t to no avail. So you use your hands but he simply lets go of your hair and pins your arms behind your back. You still can’t breath and now you’re so close to cumming and black dots and filtering in and out of your vision, you think you might be close to passing out.

Finally that knot in your stomach releases and your orgasm washing over you, you practically scream into his hand before he lets go and you fall to the floor, gasping for air.

*Just hold me through these lonely nights We'll have a blue wedding tonight*

He hasn’t cum yet so he stands over you, stroking his dick, smirking at what he did to you. If it weren’t for the afterglow of your orgasm, you’d be furious and give him a peace of your mind but you were still desperately trying to catch your breath.

Mikey throws his head back before cumming on you, some of the milky fluid getting in your hair and you lift your hand up to shield your face from it. Was this to insult you? Or was it still part of the whole ‘you’re a slut’ role play thing because you couldn’t tell anymore.

He tucks himself back into his finely tailored trousers and walks across the room to put on his shirt and gather his blazer from the chair you threw it on earlier. He pulls a small rectangular card out of his pocket and throws it on the nightstand next to your phone which started playing the next song a while ago.

“You can spend the night here, if you want. Anything you get from the minibar will be charged to my card so don’t worry about it” He looks down at you, still on the floor, bright red in the face and still breathing rather heavily “G’night, sweetheart” he winks at you before heading to the door and closing it behind him.

You pull yourself up to your feet and head over to your phone, opening it and typing out a message to Peach.

[Hey girly, you won’t believe the night I just fucking had] the text reads.

You flop down on the bed and await her response. A shower could wait for 5 minutes while she replies.

Fin

[dabis-devil]

Could you pretty please do Shinso, Dabi, Overhaul, Kirishima, Shiggy, Bakugo and Tamaki with an S/O with is a ballet dancer and looks fragile but can actually kick ass? Sorry for the long ask but I just really adore you’re stuff!!!!!

Pretty Poison

Aw, thank you anon! Okay, I'd just like to apologize for holding off on my asks. I've seen busy and not feeling well lately, but I'm getting to my requests now! Love you all 🖤

Shinsou Hitoshi

Shinsou is an observational guy

He figured you weren't as innocent as you looked before you proved him right

All of which he figured out with distance.

When set to spar together, he was avoiding all of your agile moves, each one of your attacks

You were pressed to do give it your 100%

With a swing, you attempted to go for his neck with your fist, the purple haired man catching your fist.

He tried to get a blow at your torso, you swatted his fist.

when you tried a strike with the other, he caught that one too.

His leg scooped in the back of your knees, the two of you toppling to the ground.

Toshi is a good boi, he made sure you wouldn't get hurt before he went through with such a calculated move

“ oh kitten- ” he chuckled, tired eyes lock in onto your own. “ nobody expects this of you. . Only fools will underestimate you. ” his tone was eerie

You used your propped up knee to push yourself over. Turning the tables, Toshi on bottom now. “ nice to know. ” you mumbled with a savage smile.

Next thing you know you were helping each other up and leaving the training grounds.

Its when you and Shinsou went on your first date that he learned you were a dancer.

He didn't seem too phased honestly, but he thought it was cool!

“ Can I go to your next recital? ” he asked, thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

You said yes

Before the start of the recital, your eyes wandered endlessly around the stadium.

' where is he? ' your lips curling into a frown.

Maybe he decided he didn't care?

Little did you know, he was in the front row. Just dressed in a suit. . Classy Shinsou is rare

When you leaped across the stage, his large purple orbs followed your angelic form like a puppy eyeing a treat.

He isn't one to pump you up with compliments, but when you finally realized he was staring with a strong force of admiration, that said all.

He would stand and applaud afterward, meeting you in the back room for a bland congratulations and soft hug.

He'll be at every single recital

Every. One.

Dabi

Your innocence was cute, don't get him wrong

But his goal was to corrupt you.

He would place wondering hands on your body, expecting you to become a shell of a human and color to drain from your face

Instead your expression turned playful as you prompted him

Sinful things probably followed

And that's how he learned you werent fragile

With that in mind, this man had nO control

You already know a relationship with him entails dirtiness to keep it sPiCy

And I kid you not, your gracefulness drives him over the edge

Your movement was so controlled it's just- *chefs kiss*

The part of the town the compound was in definitely wasn't a good part of town

So you got harrased :((

“ hey pretty lady, ” a drunk man cooed, his large and sweaty hands running down your arm. “ come with me to the back. . ” he smiled and roughly tugged at your arm.

You could have easily shown this man a piece of your mind. The ghastly shrieks that filled the air stopped you though.

Dabi melted his face off, then left with you like nothing happened.

This why people don't mess with you anymore

Again, this is what makes the two of you a good team. He has your back, you have his, but you can both take care of yourselves.

He didn't really care to know you danced

It's just a hobby, when should he care? Do what you want.

If you dragged him off to recitals or anything don't be surprised if you see him playing on his phone or otherwise not paying attention.

Gives 0 fucks.

If for any reason he is watching

Probably because he think you look sexy.

Maybe it's the outfit, maybe it the way your body flows, who knows?

If you come to him bothered that he doesn't like your dancing, he will either

reassure you that he thinks you look incredibly sexy when you dance, and try to pay a little more attention to your routines

No promises^

Or

Brush off your feelings and move on

Really isn't his cup of tea but A for effort

Bonus: he's asked you to dance on/for him

You're a dancer, of course you know how to lap dance. Of CoUrSe.

Idiot

“ doll, why don't you come show me some of those moves? ” he asks cheekily, already leading you back to the bedroom.

You still did. And you did well. So that's a win on his part-

Overhaul

Kai could appreciate your dancing, there was some sort of elegance in it.

The way your body moved from one figure to another just had his eyes drawn to you like magnets.

The fact that he kidnapped you for entertainment was besides the point

Well initially

You were given the option to leave, but you didn't.

Same offer does NOT apply now that you made your choice

The reason you were taken is for your doe eyes and soulful smile

You put up a damn good fight

But in the end you were being jumped by a few gang members.

Not to mention your escape attempts?

So thought out, and you came this close to busting out of the secret door each time.

Kai’s eyes burned holes hrough your skull when you were restrained to your bed.

“ love, why would you try to leave me? You know bad things could happen. . ” his tone sent goosebumps down your back

He's just possessive

Other than that, you can pretty much do what you want

So long as you stay in base

He turned a room into a dance studio for you

That's just how he shows affection.

he wants to sit and watch you dance until your knees buckle.

You bet your ass he will too.

“ where are you going? ” his eye brows knitted. “ I'm not done watching. ” he growled lowly, as you returned to your craft with a pout.

But that's fine,,,,

Even though he's not a huge fan of touching you

He gives the best massages.

(I'm actually so so sorry for this one, I haven't written Kai and oh my gOd I need to fix this characterization)

Eijiro Kirishima

This beautiful rock man

He thinks you are so adorable.

Literally precious okay, even before romantic ties developed

But when you become a badass out of nowhere, he's kinda stunned

You turned to Mineta and told him off for objectifying you, finishing that confrontation with a kick right to his crotch.

The grape boy wheezed and began to cry, but you walked off unbothered.

Of course Kiri, who had been on his way to save you from his perverted classmate, was like- “ huh?? ”

You being anything but reserved was a new emotion.

He didn't mind of course, he was excited to learn more about you.

And when he learns you're a dancer?

Oh boy.

Eiji supports you. Without a question!

And that's on being manly.

He shows up with roses to every single recital you have, dressed in fine attire, and will be the loudest person in the crowd.

“ WOoOOo!! YOU DID AMAZING Y/N! I LOVE YOUU!! ” He shouted from the top of his lungs.

Actually the first time he said I love you

Lowkey has good moves himself

You'll see that when he's dancing around the dorms to some cheesy music denki or Mina played

If you need help with a move he will put sweat, blood, and tears into perfecting it with you.

He literally won't shut up about you

When he's with his friends?

“ she's so beautiful! You should see her dance too! ” he gushed

Family?

“ y/n is so amazing. . (More babbles about you) ”

A wall?

“ I love y/n so much- ”

Just love him back okay

Tomura Shigaraki

This crusty man has his head in the game and all, but he totally swept you to the side.

He wants things to be blunt and direct

So when you were over there looking like a pure angel he just thought you were

As apart of the liberation front, he expected you to be there for covert missions, and not throw yourself into battle

But when you were over here taking out three heroes simultaneously??

It dawned on him that you were so much more useful.

It had been a late night and Shigs couldn't sleep, so he planned to hang out with you.

Your light shone under the crack of your door, prompting him to ask for your company

He placed a soft knock on your door to which there was no reply.

Instead, the melody of soft classical tunes drifted to his ears. The door creaked open, allowing the blue haired man a peak of insight as to what you were doing.

He saw your figure parading around the room in small leaps, harmonious twirls, and gentle hand movements.

His crimson eyes widened at what he saw. Not only did he realize how beautiful you are, but you were so soothing to watch?

For a little while he will beat around the bush

“ y/n, what were you up to last night? ” he asked, sounding as innocent as a mere child. “ hmm? ” his hands weaved together under his chin, leg swing in under his barstool.

Like when you already know something but you ask somebody anyways just to see what they would say yknow

He would make this one of his favorite things to do, watch you dance.

Over time you caught him staring through your door, and you weren't exactly happy about it

“ tomura! ” you squeaked, catching a glimpse of his florescent red orbs.

You raced over to the door, pausing your music with a fast tap to the pad of your phone.

“ why were you watching me? ” you frowned at your boyfriend, your shoulders building tense.

“ y/n. . ” he mumbled, hand searching for his agitated neck. “ I just couldn't look away. ”

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo did not underestimate your abilities. Ever.

From his experiences, he knows not to judge a person's abilities until you get a taste of what they can do.

He tried so hard to manipulate you into using your quirk, or just not being the peaceful person you came off as.

He faaaaailed

When you got to knew him better, you didn't hesitate to mop the floor with him.

He's impressed by your effort, so points there

He definitely liked your soft persona, on the contrary to his.

He won't tell you that though.

The closer you two got, the more he would step in to defend you and stick by your side.

The one time you snapped on somebody, he was left shaking in his boots.

He hasn't seen you behave like that. . He liked it 😏

Now don't get me wrong-

Baku didn't care for your dancing.

He didn't give a single fuck, okay

But whenever he actually saw your graceful dances on stage???

Consider him your biggest fan

But you wouldn't ever find that out. At least he thoughts so.

“ I have another recital tonig- ” you were cut off by an irritated Baku.

“ if you want me to go, just ask, dumbass! Stop whining. ” he snapped, leaving you blinking and dumbstruck

go off lord explosion murder-

He's in the front row just sitting there like

W O W

You already know he'll praise you for your preformance, whether those compliment were backhanded or of pure intent.

And if anybody dare thinks about down talking your dancing? They will be ripped. ..He would tear them apart with him bare hands. no cap.

If you absolutely amaze him, you will get the one in a lifetime chance to watch him stand up and scream your name with a proud grin, something along the lines of-

“ LOOK AT Y/N! (pronoun)'S DOING FUCKING AMAZING, JUST FUCKING LOOK AT MY BABY- ” his hand directed towards you, and you couldn't help but burn a shade of deep rose.

Tamaki Amajiki

Before you two were in a relationship, you had him fooled.

Like Tamaki, you look like a cinnamon roll, but can murder somebody.

You are commonly underestimated, which gives you the upper hand. A lot.

Tamaki taught you how to use that

Training with him was just so sweet.

He'd be scared to hurt you though

Let's add to the fact that since you like like an easy target, you would probably get messed with.

He would be the first to step in and protect you

Despite the fact his hands are shaking, and he stutters a mess.

“ my suneater. . My hero. ” you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Here lies Tamaki Amajiki, Rest In Peace

Don't even get me started on your dancing.

He loves it! Absolutely melts his heart.

When he watches you at recitals, rehearsals, maybe even in the dorms, he feels the depth of your movement.

He becomes a flustered mess in the distance,,,,

“ I can't believe thats my bunny, she's doing so well! ” he quietly cooed from the audience.

He will not miss any of your recitals. Unless it's an emergency.

Even then, get prepared for massive cuddles when he gets back.

He'll feel guilty about not being there, he's more upset than you are.

“ Tama it's fine- ” you chuckled softly, cradling your boyfriend in a hug.

“ are you sure bunny? I'm sure you did amazing, and I missed it! ” he whined, fighting the urge to plant his face onto a wall and never look back.

Other than tons of extra love after a missed performance, he will without a doubt dress fancy and bring you a bouquet and some little gifts.

100/10 will pepper you with compliments

Honestly he's an angel

[darker-soft-starker]

la dolce vita

6.4k

Warnings: fluff, domesticity, mob boss Tony, blink-and-you’ll-miss mentions of blood and violence, 100% self indulgence

----

It was the protest of his bladder that woke Peter up.

His toes curl and flex under the sheets as consciousness returns to him, a slow drip at first, unaware if the heaviness of his eyelids or the light on the other side of them are just part of his dreams. His body is warm.

It’s almost easy to succumb to the call of sleep, to slip back where left off in his dreams, however an insistent pressure against his lower abdomen tugs him back to the surface in harsh increments.

The markers of the waking world come to his awareness, slowly as the night yawns into dawn. He tries to ignore the titter of small birds on a nearby windowsill, pecking the glass, the gentle tones of the wind chime on their porch, all of which would otherwise lull hum into sleep. The killer is the unconscious jiggling of his leg, god he had to pee, an earnest request for Peter to attend to the needs of his body.

Groaning, Peter turns over in the sheets, shifting closer, burying his nose into the warm junction between his husband's neck and shoulder, hoping the sandman will come back and welcome him. He thinks he gets close, because after a few moments, despite the insistence of his stomach, his limbs feel heavier, like his body were dripped in molasses, slivered and delivered into a kaleidoscope behind his eyelids.

It’s not to be, however, when Tony snores loudly in his ear.

“No,” Peter whispers sadly to himself, clamping his hands over his ears.

It’s no use. He surrenders to the inevitable; wriggling out from under the sheets he tip-toes along the carpet on his to the adjoining ensuite.

Squinting into the darkness of the room, Peter relieves himself quickly, tipping his head back, sighing softly as his body relaxes. After a moment he flushes and washes his hands, and if he’s already here he might as well brush his teeth too, right?

Free of morning breath he makes quick work of crawling back into bed. It’s still warm from where he left it. Perfect. He resumes the same position as before, pressing against Tony’s broad and delightfully sleep-warm body. Even in slumber, the older man guides his arm to cup the low of Peter's waist like before.

But no matter how comfortably he settles, sleep doesn’t come back. The mistake is checking the time on his smart watch.

Six-forty-four in the morning. Too early to be awake on a day off. Not early enough to justify going back to sleep on any other day.

Goddammit.

Gingerly, Peter turns over to his other side to face Tony, helplessly smiling when he emits another loud snore.

Gently as he can muster, he raises trails his finger down the narrow slope of his husband's nose, tracing down the curve of his nostril, following down the path on his worn smile lines. Unable to stop his own smile he leans in, pressing the print of his lips to the corner of Tony’s mouth before retreating back, hoping he has sweet dreams. The unconscious grab at his hip as he slips out of the bed is almost enough to lure him back in.

Almost.

Shivering at the loss of heat, Peter heads to the drawer, near naked, the satin of his boxers the only warmth he is afforded from the cool room as he pads along the soft carpet. He slips on a pair of running shorts, socks and finally fishes the sneakers from under their bed, lacing them up quietly as the snores continue.

“You’re a fucking chainsaw,” he whispers to Tony, embarrassed by his own fondness.

He leans over to kiss his husband lightly on the forehead before he slips out of the house.

Early sunrise paints the sky a mild grey. This far out, there’s still a couple of stars out and the slim curve of the moon beginning to fade as the morning light emerges. He stretches quickly on the porch to warm up a little, the air still cool despite it being a mid-July morning.

Setting off in a light jog as he exits their property, Peter waves to their neighbours as he passes. Music pumping, he picks up a moderate pace, yelling an enthusiastic hello to Mr Moore as he retrieves his newspaper from the lawn, offering the same Mrs Bowen shoo’s her the neighborhood cats away from her flower beds with a broom.

It’s not a particularly busy suburban street. It consists of mostly retirees and their visiting kin, childless couples who drive Toyota four-doors and suburbia-stricken Jeeps and empty nesters.

The rest are Tony’s employees. One of whom shadows Peter as he sprints down the footpath, about as subtle as bull in a china-shop.

Trying his luck, as he does everyday, Peter raises his hand in a friendly welcome to the person  running behind him. He isn’t sure who it is today, doesn’t look back for appearance sake, but the steps are heavy and uniform enough to know it’s no coincidence.

When Peter first started dating Tony, they argued night and day over the detail. From bickering over babying escalating into arguments over agency, slammed doors and ignored texts, ‘breaks’ that weren’t as much breaks as they were breathers. A leash, Peter called it in those early days, of the non-consensual, not-sexy variety.  Not to mention the furious, heated make-up sex that would always come after.

Those were the days.

After six years together they’d come to a happy medium. They had settled on a mutually beneficial compromise. Peter got the house in the suburbs that he’d always envisioned and Tony got his best men armed to the teeth just a yard-sale away.

Perfect.

Nonetheless as Peter finishes his circuit and returns home, he’s glad he put his foot down on not having guards stationed at the entry and exits of their suburban property. They adjusted to one another's needs, that’s what relationships are all about, right? Tony’s men owned four houses in the busy street and their home was jerry-rigged to decimate all unauthorised intruders upon visual confirmation from JARVIS.

But at least Peter got the house in the suburbs. He’s going to convince Tony to get a pet, next.

Back inside, Peter kicks off his sneakers and locks the door behind him. All four of them. The emptiness of the house, evident in the absence of the music that ordinarily fills their home must mean that Tony is still in bed.

“Lazy ass,” Peter mutters, trying to pull back on the reigns of overwhelming fondness so as to not smile at nothing in his own living room. He does it anyway.

It isn’t until minutes later that he’s staring forlornly at their barren pantry and fridge that Tony wanders into the kitchen, snaking his strong arms around Peter's waist from behind, pressing a sleepy, prickly kiss to his jaw.

“Morning, baby,” he croaks, still sleep-warm against Peter’s rapidly cooling body.

“Morning, mister,” Peter tilts his head back, placing a kiss on Tony’s lips, shifting back slightly until their bodies are flushed together, snorting lightly when he feels something hard in Tony’s sweats.

“Oh my,” he gasps, falsely aghast. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“It’s a gun,” Tony confirms, the stretch of his smirk palpable on Peter’s skin. “Colt Python, you know the one. But I’m also very happy to see you, don’t fret.”

Tony’s hips hunch forward. True to his word, there are twin sensations against his backside, rutting against his lower body without shame. “See? All for you. You making breakfast?”

“You tell me,” Peter squeezes Tony’s forearms and settles into his hold. He nods towards the lone, sagging tomato in their fridge and the stale, single line of crackers resting in the cupboard. “Got any ideas?”

“I can think of something I’d like to eat.”

Peter squirms, rocking back on his heels as Tony kisses a line up his neck, facial hair prickling his skin. Heat coils pleasantly in his stomach and his toes curl in his sneakers.

“Stop. I’m -- Tony, stop -- I’m sweaty and gross. I stink.”

“Nope, not true,” he noses along the sensitive upside of Peter’s jaw. “You smell great. But if you’re bothered we can shower together. Great idea.”

His stomach growls again, swooping low. “I’m hungry,” Peter rebuts, turning around in Tony’s embrace to pout directly in his face, hoping he looks sad and forlorn. “I’m feeling faint.”

Tony looks unperturbed. “Well, alternatively, there is something I could feed you, if that’s your preference. Straight from the source.”

Peter groans and swats Tony’s chest, frankly unsure of what he expected

“You’re such a lech. Get help.”

“I’ve tried, darling, but it’s no use,” Tony sighs sadly, squeezing his hips. “You’re just too sexy.”

Peter disagrees, walking Tony backwards until his body makes contact with the kitchen bench, trailing a finger up his chest and poking him lightly in the sternum.

“Yeah? That’s not what you said when I made you take out the trash last night.”

“Well, that’s because trash isn’t sexy.”

Peter pokes him again. “And yet I stay married to you.”

“Ouch,” Tony blinks, slapping a hand to his chest. “Wow. That is uncalled for. You’re calling me trash. I’m reduced to garbage now?”

“Yes,” he pecks Tony’s lips, snickering at his offended face. “I guess I’m just not me when I’m hungry. Can we go out for something to eat, please? I’ll be nice.”

“You gonna shower first? You do actually stink, I mean. Like, really bad.”

Prying himself out of the hold, Peter tries to the best of his ability a sense of mock outrage as Tony reels him back in with an apologetic hug, even as a smile tugs at his own lips.

“You gonna brush your teeth?” Peter dips his chin, deepening his voice to mimic his husbands. “Because wow , your morning breath is bad. Rank.”

The older man looks amused, biting his lips and blinking coquettishly like he always does when he’s up to something.

“What.”

“Nothing,” Tony shrugs, still smiling. “Just wondering if you wanted to keep talking - or if you wanted to shut up and let me go down on you in the shower.”

Peter tilts his head to the side, considering it for a moment.

“Do I have to shut up while you go down on me in the shower?”

Tony’s hand is back on his heart again.

“Absolutely not. I encourage you to be as vocal as possible. Wake the neighbours.”

“Deal.”

---

After thoroughly working up an appetite whilst showering, the call for groceries couldn’t wait any longer.

It’s hardly their favourite domestic activity, but delivery just is not an option. Not only for the obvious security concerns, given Tony’s occupation, but also simply because Peter hates someone else picking out his vegetables. They always give you the bad ones, he thinks, he’s had enough sad zucchinis to know.

Still, the way Tony had sighed and rolled his eyes as Peter packed their canvas bags into the car was rather uncalled for.

Tony did agree to accompany him on one solid condition, however. Breakfast first.

“Okay,” Peter agreed. “Something healthy though.”

“Oh yeah,” Tony had nodded. “Definitely.”

---

Should have known better than to trust a dirty crook.

---

Their breakfast pit-stop, much to Peters dismay, was more grease laden than he’d hoped for. He grumbles as Tony pulls into the nearest car-park, understanding now why Tony insisted on driving.

Don’t get him wrong, he enjoys gooey melted American cheese on a beef patty as much as the next guy, but the taste isn't enough to diminish his mounting disapproval as Tony downs one cheeseburger after another, washing them down with soda and fries.  

“You have a heart condition,” Peter frowns, slapping the bag of fries from his husband's hands as he brings them to his lap. “What are you doing?”

Potato goes flying over the dashboard, smearing oil over the detail in its wake.

Tony blinks.

“Wow. Now that’s just a waste,” he fishes a napkin from the bag and wipes the dashboard with it. “You know this interior is original, right? Vintage, 1973. You do? Just making sure.”

Peter knows. Tony won the car in a poker game against Hammer two years ago. Then he leaked his money laundering to the press. He hasn’t shut up about it since.

Peter fishes out the chicken salad he knows he ordered from the paper bag, flinging it at Tony who catches it easily.

“You promised something healthy. Eat the salad, Tony.”

“Eat the salad, Tony,” his husband mimics, even as he pries open the plastic lid of the leafy meal. “God, look at this thing. It’s miserable,” he spears into it with his plastic fork, shovelling it into his mouth and not looking happy about it. “It looks like clinical depression if it were a meal. Like a metaphor for erectile dysfunction. Pathetic.”

“Are you done bitching?”

Tony feeds himself another mouthful of the limp greens before leaning closer to chew grotesquely in Peter’s ear. “There. Happy, darling?”

Peter winds down the window so the cabin doesn’t reek of red onion.

“Ecstatic.”

—-

Peter is often asked where he and Tony met.

He tells his colleagues and close friends that they met in through their jobs. Look, it’s not a total lie. Except, he says that Tony worked as a consultant to the State-Board for Education and Peter was luckily enough to be invited to some event, somewhere, at some time and at some place where they happened to cross paths and meet. After hitting it off, the rest was history.

Few question it, envious and charmed by their story. A young man meets the man of his dreams, they fall in love, and spend their days happily married, leaving a dreamy white picket fence life.

The fairy-tale ending is real. The reality of how they got it is another story.

Six years ago, rushing to his shift at the grocery store, Peter had accidentally rammed his bicycle into some guys who ran into his path on one cold Sunday, morning in the heart of Flushing, Queens.

At first, Peter hadn’t noticed the gun flying into the mouth of the alley, too busy apologising to hear the clang of metal on concrete. It wasn’t until one of the men, now disarmed, fled the scene that he realised that he’d interrupted Tony’s would-be execution.

A thank-you-coffee was followed by a thank-you-date. Then, Peter got asked on real dates. Real dates led to real kisses that weren’t just a thank you but I like you and then, eventually, I love you.

But it was the I trust you that cemented Peter in Tony’s world.

So maybe Tony wasn’t really a consultant. Maybe Peter fell for Tony, the man, the provider, the person who seemed to have an interest in politics and community as much as he did about the perfect placement of his hair, or ensuring Peter’s comfort and willing consent at any given time.

And he never asked Peter to be a part of the business. Tony’s job was just as important as his own and he always reiterated that.

Which was good, because Peter loves his job. At twenty-six feels, Peter feels like his life is where it’s supposed to be. And maybe he was a local, humble high-school teacher, sure, but he still grew up on the internet. He’d looked into Tony before their first date. You know. Basic database searches like missing persons, most wanted and sex-offender registers. Luckily, Google actually said Tony was a consultant.

He even had his own LinkedIn.

Although further and not-so-legal inspections of encrypted government databases - thanks, Ned - told a different tale.

It was sort of true? Nothing happened in New York without Tony being consulted. Even working remotely he had NYC eating from the palm of his hand.

And Peter?

“I want spaghetti,” Peter decides, reaching for a packet of dried pasta, the plastic wrapping crinkling under his hand as he places it in the shopping cart.

“Spaghetti,” Tony repeats, eyeing Peter dubiously.

“Uh-huh,” Peter nods, eyeing the aisle for an accompanying sauce. “With meatballs. Oh, oh - and parmesan.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

Peter blinks. “Yes. And parmesan. I literally just said that. Oh ohhh, and garlic bread, good thinking,” he says, adding it to his list for when they hit the freezer aisle.

Tony snatches the packet of pasta from the cart and inspects it with evident distaste. “You want spaghetti and meatballs with dry pasta.”

“Oh my god,” Peter groans, snatching the packet back. He throws it back into the cart, swerving it around an older lady eyeing the macaroni. “Stop. I am not having this discussion again. You know how I feel about fresh, c’mon. It tastes weird.”

“Yeah, weirdo,” Tony nods as they round into the next aisle. He takes a couple of diced tomato cans, perusing their label as they talk. “It tastes like how pasta is supposed to taste.”

The man carrying a concealed weapon shadowing their steps some twelve feet away snorts in amusement. He has the good sense to look properly chastened when Peter looks back, unimpressed.

“Are you suggesting my tastes are unrefined?”

“Yes. Profoundly.”

“Yeah, well, your face is unrefined,” Peter deliberately throws a jar of not-fresh parmesan into the cart as he spots it, ignoring Tony’s grimace. “And also, considering you can’t actually cook, and I’m the dumbass that'll be sweating over a stove to cook it for you, maybe shut up?”

“My face is perfect,” Tony sniffs. “You’re rude. You know what? I’m taking my vows back.”

Peter snorts.

“Okay, cool. I hate being tied down anyway.”

“Same,” Tony shakes his head at the man shadowing them. “Can’t wait to be rid of this old ball and chain.

“I know, right? Well, goodbye, I guess.”

“Great. See ya.”

“Hey, you wanna help me clean the fridge when we get back?”

“Okay.”

Maybe their lives don’t mesh well on a surface level - king of the underbelly and a high school teacher - but they each make concessions in their daily lives to make each other happy.

Tony, bless his soul, acknowledges that Peter will never give up his job or make fettuccine from scratch, and Peter realises that there will always be corrupt politicians and black markets that need the guiding hand of a good man. Even if he doesn’t like bloodshed.

Tony never hurt anybody that didn’t deserve it. And no matter how much Peter cares, the underworld is always going to be there. Blackmarkets were always going to run regardless of how much he gave a shit. It was all about management, he'd learned.

Tony was that guy. In fact, if you ask him, couldn’t be a better guy overseeing it. And Peter was there, right behind him. It’s all about balance, you know?

Yeah.

It was never about turning a blind eye. But it kept everyone happy to make small adjustments.

Like when they’re waiting for the number to be called at a deli counter. A short, thin woman cuts in front of the pair just at the moment their number is called, immediately talks over them to get her order in.

Having stood waiting for the better part of ten minutes, his husband audibly had audibly tutted in vexation.

“Anthony,” Peter chides when he hears the sound of the hammer being pulled back in whatever firearm is in Tony’s pocket. “Stop it.”

Tony retrieves his hand from his jacket, raising it in a gesture of innocence. “What?”

“This isn’t the Wild West. You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“It’s called being courteous. She was rude. Don’t you think she was rude?” he asks one of the men waiting beside them, who only offers a bewildered look in return. Tony huffs, turning his attention back to Peter. “Ridiculous. I’ve flayed for that kind of disrespect.”

Heads whip in their direction, including the woman who had cut in front of them, accompanied by a chorus of scandalised gasps.

“Figuratively, of course,” Tony refers to the crowd, offering a charming grin.

Several shift away from the couple and no one argues when they place their order next.

Peter sighs.

---

Lunch was a truly enormous serving of tomato soup and a veritable tower of stacked grilled cheese, courtesy of Peter’s growling stomach.

After arriving home with the groceries, having foregone breakfast, he was truly beyond hangry by the time everything was unpacked. Canned soup. Single-pack cheese, good god that was the kind of haute cuisine he was hankering for after his morning. Even Tony wolfed it down. However petulant he looked whilst doing so.

“Was lunch okay?” he asked, reaching over and wiping the crumbs from Tony’s beard with his thumb. “Up to your highness' standard?”

“Impeccable, sweetpea,” Tony smiled, setting his spoon into the near empty bowl. “Five stars.”

“Good.”

You’re so unrefined, Peter mimics petulantly in his head, feeling vindicated as Tony scoops up the, quote, ‘sodium cocktail’ with his bread crusts. Although the glare that Tony fixed him as they watched Gordon Ramsay swearing a storm on the TV gave him the impression that Tony knew exactly what he was thinking.

Whatever.

It didn’t stop Peter from sprawling across the length of the sofa to rest his head in Tony’s lap once he’d set his bowl aside, shifting, making himself comfortable. Nor did it stop Tony from unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping his fly, casually, as if to make room for the meal he’d consumed.

Inhaled, more like it, Peter thinks victoriously.

“We should get a cat,” he mumbles, comfortably full. He edges closer to his husband's body, smiling when fingers begin to card through his hair.

“No.”

“Yes. You like cats.”

“We're not getting a cat.”

“Why not,” Peter nuzzles closer to Tony’s crotch, the scent and the heat inexplicably comforting, pressing a kiss just above his groin. A low heat rises in his gut, comfortable and unhurried.

“We are not trading sexual favours for a discussion on pet ownership,” Tony warns, although his voice is soft and the fingers in his hair continue his gentle ministrations. “A discussion you will be losing, by the way.”

No he won’t. He’s going to blow Tony’s mind through his dick.

Or he will in a moment. His body feels heavy, lethargic with satiety, like he’s encased in concrete, sinking, sinking… sinking...

Yeah. He just… needs to rest his eyes first.

“You wanna suck me?” Tony asks softly, brushing his knuckles against Peter’s cheek, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Peter affirms, blinking, eyelids heavy with the impending food coma. But he can do it. “I can,” he mumbles, tongue thick in his mouth, lethargy impeding the eagerness of his hands.

He yawns, snuffling closer to Tony's groin. “I can... do it.”

Tony snorts down at him, thumb gently stroking over his eyebrow. He says something to Peter, like don’t strain yourself , but maybe it was a dream.

So is the case when he falls asleep to the furious swearing of the Scottish chef, fingers raking through his hair, his body conforming to the indents of their old sofa cushions. Sleep comes to him with his legs curled against the backrest, his own breath hot against his face, Mr Marley mowing his lawn a couple of yards over. Tony’s fingers in his hair.

When he wakes an indeterminate length of time later it’s to knuckles stroking his cheek softly and the declining afternoon sun streaming unfiltered through the west-facing windows.

Peter blinks, assessing the man sitting beside him.

“You’re wearing a suit,” he says dumbly, brain still foggy. “Are we role playing?”

Tony smiles. “No, baby. Don’t I wish. I gotta go to work.”

Still sleepy, he doesn’t immediately register what Tony has said until a couple of moments pass, and his heart drops to the floor at the announcement. As he does, he tries to resist the involuntary pout at the news, but the effort fails if Tony’s sad smile is anything to go by.

“No,” he says, voice small. “Tony. It’s our weekend off together. You promised.”

“I know, bug, I’m sorry,” the older man leans forward to place a kiss on his forehead before standing up. “It’s not fair. I’m just as mad as you are.”

“Why?”

“Happy called. One of Mayor Ross’s aides is threatening us with the feds. Gotta step in this time and pretend to be the boss. You know, show of authority. Make someone piss their pants.”

“You are the boss,” he yawns, smacking his lips, watching as his husband adjusts his tie above him. “But you owe me.”

“That because you’re the boss of me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Tony nods. “Alright. Name your price.”

Peter smirks, melting back against the cushions and kicking his feet up on the far armrest.

“School fundraiser, June thirtieth. You and me at a table. You’re gonna use that pretty face and charm of yours to help me sell cookies.”

Tony groans, leaning his forearms over the armrest above Peter’s head.

“You do know that you are the devil, right? You’re in the dictionary next to the definition of ‘heinous’.”

Peter grins.

“Clearly you don’t love me,” Tony tries. “I hate school fundraisers. You know this.”

“I do know this,” he says smugly, stretching his arms upwards on a yawn, fingers gripping his husband's tie on the descent. He uses the hold to tug him closer. “Do you know how many papers I set aside for tomorrow to have this day off together? Do you have any idea what I had planned? I’m mad at you. Livid, even.”

“Can I at least buy out the cookies and cake?”

“And get away with abandoning me? Uhh, let me think -- no.”

Tony sighs, shifting above him. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I know. It’s why you married me.”

“One of the reasons why I married you.”

“Uh-huh. Go away. Be home for dinner.”

“Will do,” Tony affirms, allowing himself to be tugged by his tie until he’s dragged into an upside-down kiss. “Wait, one more for luck,” he says after a moment, leaning in and kissing Peter again.

“I hate you,” Peter mumbles against his lips. “I’m making that spaghetti and you’re gonna pretend to like it.”

“Love you too,” Tony whispers, fond, closing his eyes and planting a final wet peck on Peter’s cheek. He whispers, as Peter yawns again. “I’ll see you soon, speed racer. Don’t burn the house down.”

With that Tony leaves, the sound of door closing signalling Peter’s solitude.

If Tony’s previous ‘quick stops’ are of any worthy precedent, Peter’s in for a couple of hours of boredom.

They should really get a pet, Peter thinks, falling back into twitchy micro-sleeps once he’s alone.

With the low-slinging sun still in his eyes, sleep again eludes him for the second time that day and he can no longer drown out the cheer of children next door and the barking dog on the street over, the summer-time squeak of ill-oiled bicycles and the approaching twilight chorus of cicadas.

Retrieving his phone from his pocket, Peter goes down the YouTube rabbit-hole.

---

By the time he drags himself off the couch at least an hour later, Peter’s watched more episodes of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives than he’d like to admit, hypnotised by the food stuck in Guy Fieri’s incredible goatee.

God. Now he wants nacho chicken wings.

Stretching as he stands, Peter makes work of shutting all of the open curtains in the house, switching on the lamps in the living room and hallway lights as he goes. He keeps the kitchen window open and leaves the screen-door as it is to allow the cool evening air to drift through the house.

He does ensure he locks it, however, mindful of how much Tony hates it when the reinforced door behind it isn’t closed as well. Which is stupid. They have a reinforced door. It has six locks on it. Six.

Explaining that at their housewarming was a real trip.

Smiling at the memory, Peter heads to the kitchen. The house is definitely too quiet, he reckons, and switches on the old radio May gave him when he moved out. He turns it up as loud as it can go, tuning it to whatever station doesn’t come out distorted from the dated speakers.

Tonight, that station was the oldies. To Petunia Clark he peruses through the now more abundant trove of food they had to retrieve the necessary ingredients for dinner. Tomatoes, onion, garlic. Fresh basil picked from the pot on the window sill.

Sometimes he can’t believe how his life turned out. When he thinks back to the young kid from Queens who only had his aunt to impress with his cooking, his skills acquired from his time at Neds, Delmars and online tutorials, from that college kid who lived on packet ramen and energy drinks.

Still does, sometimes, when he thinks he can get away with stashing the packets of Mi Goreng where his husband can’t see them.

Tony keeps threatening to refine his palette. He hasn’t succeeded yet, but Peter suspects it's due to lack of trying.

Or hope.

The song changes again, and to the highs and lows of Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline Peter gets the sauce simmering in a pan, dah-dah-dah-ing under his breath, shimmying his hips and using the wooden spoon as a microphone as the music sweeps inside him. By the time the song ends, the stove backsplash is rendered in streaks of burst tomato but it’s fine, he’ll clean it up later.

It’s not until the pasta is near ready that the front-yard sensor light blinks on and the front door creaks open.

It’s a testimony to Tony’s light footwork that Peter doesn’t notice he’s been crept up on until arms wrap around his waist from behind, startling him as he’s draining the pasta.

“Honey, I’m home,” Tony whispers, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Peter smiles, setting the pasta aside on the bench to grip Tony’s forearms as the older man guides their hips to sway to the music.

“How was work?”

“Absolute murder,” he presses a line of kisses across Peter’s jaw, goatee tickling his skin. “And before you ask, yes that is a gun in my pocket.”

“Does that man you’re not happy to see me?” Peter queries, setting the strainer aside and turning in his husband's arms. Settling his hands on Tony’s hips, his dumb mouth can’t help but echo the other man's fond smile when their eyes meat.

“I’m very happy to see you, always,” Tony pecks his lips, pausing. “I bought apology wine. Château Lafite 1787, you’ll like it. Come, let me get you a glass.”

Before Tony gets too far, Peter tugs him back by the wrist to face him.

“Wait, hang on,” he mumbles. Without looking away he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it. “You’ve got a… thing...”

Bringing his spit-slicked thumb to Tony’s cheek, Peter rubs away at the long smear of blood that he’d spotted moments earlier, deep red and markedly drying in the bristles of Tony’s beard.

“How did that not get on your shirt,” Peter muses, digging the digit in to remove the remaining dried flakes until it’s clear. Satisfied with his work, he steps back and nods. “Okay, Mister-Man, you’re free to go and wash up.”

“Thank you, dear,” Tony says dryly. “You know how messy Barnes gets.”

“I recall. Does Barnes know that it’s a bitch to get arterial spray out of whites?”

“Why do you think he only wears black?”

“The aesthetic.”

Tony snorts, uncorking the wine, leaving Peter to finish plating up their meal.

They take their bowls and drinks over to the sofa, settling close together amongst the cushions. Tony shifts, knocking their elbows together to unmute the nightly news on the TV, leaving the remote lying in the groove between their thighs.

The first few mouthfuls are initially silent, both too ravenous to do more than groan with every slippery slide of noodles into their mouth.

“Mmm,” Tony drops his fork to the bowl with a clang, wiping the stray sauce from his mouth with a tissue from his pocket, throat bobbing as he swallows. “Baby, this is divine. Did you make this sauce from scratch?”

Peter nods, still chewing a bite of meatball. He swallows, twirling his fork into the pasta. “S’it okay? Thought it might offset the pasta taste. I used the basil from the windowsill.”

Tony leans over to press a kiss to Peters lips, his breath against his mouth all rich red-wine and tomato tartness, like all of their good nights before. He chases it with a peck of his own before resuming his attention to his meal.

“It’s amazing. Five stars and I’m not even being facetious. Thanks for cooking, chef.”

“S’ok,” Peter shrugs, a little bashful. With his free hand he picks up the remote and turns up the volume as the news program returns back from the ad break.

“And in breaking news,” the news anchor reads, stony faced and staring directly into the camera, “Paul Morello, aid and confidant to Mayor Ross, has been reported missing since last Wednesday. Close sources to Morello say he was last seen outside of his office getting into his vehicle three days ago. His girlfriend of four weeks says he hasn’t been home since he left that same morning.”

Peter snorts, shovelling another helping of spaghetti into his mouth. God, this would have gone so good with garlic bread, he thinks mournfully, wishing they’d bought a frozen loaf from the store and mentally adding it to his next shopping list.

“Please,” Tony huffs. “We only had Morello since this morning. Two of my girls had him before that. Which was an actual coincidence, believe it or not. Got mouthy when they demanded a condom.”

“Scumbag,” Peter concurs, sipping the wine. It’s pleasantly tart. “Did you give the girls a tip?”

“Sure did,” Tony knocks their glasses together. “Was just gonna cut off a finger at first, but turns out he has a list of buried charges that makes Brock Turner look like a choir boy -- or, well, had a list. Past tense."

“Good riddance,” Peter tilts his head back and downs the rest of his wine.

---

Long after the food is demolished and the food-coma state has passed in a daze, Peter remembers his promise from earlier.

While Tony’s attention is on his phone, scrolling through a Reuters article about himself, Peter takes the opportunity to slink down off the sofa onto his knees and position himself between the older man's  legs. Curling his hands under Tony’s thighs, he kisses his way up from bend at his knee to the junction of his groin where he noses interestedly at the soft mound at the centre.

He mouths at it, peering up through his eyelashes, silently requesting attention at the same time Tony looks down. The man wastes little time in setting his phone aside and cupping Peter’s face with his hands.

“First a world class meal and now this?” Tony sighs, running his fingers through Peter’s hair as his zip is lowered. “I don’t fucking deserve you.”

“Hey, I decide that,,” Peter gently reprimands, tugging down Tony’s slacks, watching reverently as his half-hard length springs from the fabric to rest lazily against Tony’s hip. “And I’m feeling kinda generous, so. Take it or leave it.”

Tony reaches a hand down to caress the lobe of Peter's ear, the corner of his lips quirking sideways. His legs spread further to accommodate the width of Peter’s shoulders.

“Well, if you say so. Guess I better take it.”

Peter licks the tip of his cock, grimacing when his cheek comes into contact with something harder than Tony’s cock.

“Actually, can you just remove the loaded firearm from your pocket, just -- I don’t want it going off in my face? I -- yeah. Thanks. Sorry.”

Tony sighs, fishing out and dropping the weapon on the coffee table.

“Perfect,” Peter nods. “Glock 33. Nice. On second thought, wanna pop that in the safe and I’ll meet you back here pants-down? Cool?”

Tony shakes his head, his cock bobbing as he stands.

“So cool.”

---

Peter sighs softly against the back of Tony’s neck when the sliver of sunlight hits his eyes.

As usual, sleep doesn’t return to him easily once it’s lost, and unlike the previous morning, he doesn’t attempt to fall back under. The humidity of his own breath is uncomfortably warm against his chin. His bladder, full again, presses against his husband's warm body, soft cock against his lower back.

Tony, predictably, continues to snore.

Peter leaves the bed and tiptoes to the adjacent bathroom to pee. When he returns, he closes the curtain, mindful of his nakedness, then returns to the bed.

Deciding to make best use of his time awake, Peter spends the early hours of the morning under the sheets. Shifting down the mattress, he spreads Tony’s cheeks and buries his face between them.

The snores quickly turn into groans.

This is the life. Having his sleeping dragon of a husband kicking out his feet in his sleep, moaning wetly into his pillow as Peter eats him out. He always takes Peter so well, even in sleep. With his face flushed, breathless, it’s no hardship for Peter to tenderly attend to the musky furl of skin, tight again despite their recent loving.

It was magnificent. Even half-asleep, Peter couldn't allow it to go without worship on a Sunday morning.

His jaw is sore by the time Tony comes, his hips driving his release into the sheets. After taking a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving with the aftershock of his orgasm, Tony flips over onto his back, squinting up to the ceiling.

Peter crawls back up, pressing a line of kisses up Tony’s sternum to the hollow of his collarbone. Arms wrap around him tightly until they’re chest-to-chest, sticky with sweat. This close, Peter can feel the rhythmic beating of Tony’s racing heart.

“D’you wan’ me to…?” Tony mumbles, mouth going slack.

“I’m good, go back to sleep.”

“‘Kay. Love you.”

“Love you more,” he whispers.

Later, Peter is going to bring up the idea of adopting a cat again. He’s going to wear Tony down, he knows it.

But that can wait, for now.

Smiling, Peter hooks his leg over Tony's hip, kisses the back of his neck as tenderly as he can muster, and lets the darkness pull him back under. 

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 4

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: violence, blood, language

I was taken to a shower room. With no other exit than the door we came in through, it seemed the Tweedles felt it would be safe enough to leave me alone in there.

I showered for an eternity. The water was hardly warm, and it smelled moldy in the room, but I didn’t care. I let the water run over me, scrubbed every inch of my body with a bar of soap on a string. I ran my hand down my injured ribs, and winced at the pain. Remembering Flags hand touching that same spot but an hour before, I smiled to myself. His touch then had been gentle, and my mind wandered into a more pleasant direction. A bang on the door interrupted my train of thought.

“Finish up!”, a voice called. I turned off the water.

A clean set of clothes had been laid out. Another tank top, this one not cut into pieces, a clean set of underwear, and a pair of orange pants, with much too long legs for me. I folded them up, to right bellow my knees, and finally put on the slip-on shoes that completed the outfit.

Calling out, I let the twins know I was ready.

After eating the mac’n’cheese and jello that was pushed through the hatch in the door, I slept deeper than I ever had, on the small cot that had appeared in my cell, while I was being questioned – or recruited, I wasn’t sure which it was. The last thing I saw before drifting of, was loose wire hanging from the corner of the ceiling, where the thermal camera had once been. I wasn’t being watched anymore.

---

I woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked; I sprang up from where I had been laying, fully awake, and on high alert. Two guards stepped in to the room. Not Flags men.

What the fuck is this?, I panicked, and took a stance, preparing for a fight.

Grabbing me by the wrists, they spun me around, locking my arms behind me. They held me like this, as Griggs stepped into the room, and looked me up and down.

“You look even better clean, puss”, he leered at me.

I lifted my knee, and stomped down onto the foot of the guard to my right. Letting go of my arm, he yelped; and I swung my arm, punching Griggs in the face.

Covering his mouth with a scream, he then slapped me hard, making my ears ring.

“You goddamn bitch”, he said, blood running from his busted lip. I laughed at him; and made to get another hit in, when the second guard holding me, kicked me behind my knee; making me lose balance, and topple over.

Laying face down on the ground, someone put a knee on my back, holding me down, as my ankles and wrists were put in cuffs. Spewing all of the worst profanities I knew, I then twisted my neck, biting at the guard holding down my shoulders. I narrowly missed him, and another hand held my head down, making my forehead meet the concrete.

“Watch it, dumbass. We need her whole!”, Griggs spat. He pulled a sack over my head.

They carried me like this, down the corridor, as I screamed and cussed. This isn’t supposed to happen, I thought. Where’s Flag? Waller, even?.

I hadn’t officially accepted Wallers “offer” of joining her circus. Was this payback for my little stunt yesterday? Was I being sent back to Gotham? Or were they taking me somewhere to end my suffering.

A sharp pain in my ribs – from a boot, I figured – made me consider whether euthanasia wouldn’t be a kinder fate.

A door opening and closing behind us. The temperature changed. The air was damp, and the sack on my head stuck to my skin, making it difficult to breathe.

I heard the sound of a gate opening. “Freak transport”, Griggs voice called. Laughing.

Another door. I was made to stand, and my feet were uncuffed. I heard the sound of hip hop music. More musical torture? Metallic clanking, and I was pushed forward harshly, almost falling over.

“Get that shit of her”, Flags voice said. Thank God.

“Careful. This one has sharp teeth”, Griggs said; and someone pulled the sack of my head.

Blinking, adjusting to the light; I examined the room. About 100 yards deep, 50 yards wide. From the looks of it, an old indoor basketball court. My calculations turned out to be right, as a tall, dark man, wearing the same outfit as my own, was shooting hoops at the end of the room, never missing one throw. He turned in my direction, and looked at me, then Griggs busted lip, and laughed to himself.

In one corner a large figure, wearing a hoodie, sat with his back to me, watching BET on a small flat screen. In another, a man covered from head to toes in tattoos – I could tell, as he wasn’t wearing a shirt, or shoes – was doing pushups.

Flag walked up from behind me, staring me down.

“Welcome to the gym”. He took out a set of keys, and uncuffed my hands. “I can handle it from here”, he said to Griggs.

“Are you sure, sir? She seems cranky”, Griggs answered, and put his hand on the gun in his belt.

“I’m sure, asshole. If we need anything, I’ll let you know. Now get”.

“Dick”, Griggs muttered, and walked out the large door we had come through. The metallic sound started, and then made a last large clank, as it shut behind him and his guards.

Flag examined my face, and stroked his fingers across the small cuts on my forehead, from my former spat with the guards.

“You need to be careful, kitten. I won’t always be around; so if you piss them off again, I might not be able to help you”.

“You weren’t there to help me this time, and I made out fine on my own”, I retorted.

Flag moved his hand down to my belly, looking at the blood on my top, lightly touching it.

“I can see that”, he said, removed his hand, and continued. “You ripped your stitches”.

“I’m fine”, I pouted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our newest team member”, Flag called out. “Y/N Y/L/N. Also known as Chess”.

The man with the basketball, turned around, and made a final throw over his shoulder; and the ball went straight into the hoop, then bounced away across the floor.

The tattooed man stopped his workout, and walked towards us.

“Croc, did you hear me? Get your ass over here”, Flag shouted.

The large figure turned of his television, got up, and walked towards us, pulling the hood off his head. For a second, I was tempted to run, or even do something as embarrassing as hide behind Flag. The tall mans face was covered in what looked like scales; and it took me a hot second to realize that was his actual skin.

Killer Croc. I’d heard of him.

“Don’t worry, cher’. I ain’t gonna bite”, he growled at me; showing his terrifying teeth, in what I guess was supposed to be a smile. In spite of his appearance and reputation; I instantly felt calmer, from his use of the cher’ endearment. It reminded me of Sammy.

Sammy. “What happened to the owner of the club?”, I asked, voice shaking.

“He’s fine”, Flag answered. “I bumped him on the head a bit, when he tried to stop me from going after you. But I left a large tip for him. He’ll be able to make next months payment to whichever scumbag is using their protection scheme on him”.

I exhaled, relieved.

“And my cats?”, I remembered, panic returning.

“Your neighbor has them. Don’t worry”.

Good. Selina was sweet, though a bit kooky; and she seemed to love cats, more than even I did.

“All your loose ends are tied up, and as long as you behave, they’ll stay that way”.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You are using my cats to blackmail me?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he answered shortly, and smirked.

By now, the three men were gathered in front of me.

“Where the hell is Harley and Digger?”, Flag called.

“Harley had feminine things to do”, basketball guy answered, before being interrupted by a shrill voice.

“Flag! The british guy was watching me on the toilet again!”. A curvaceous but lean woman appeared in a doorway to my right. She was dragging the rugged looking unicorn man, by his ear; storming towards us.

“I’m Australian, you crazy bitch”, he yelped; and she yanked him by his ear to the ground, putting a foot on his neck.

“Whatever. Do it again, and I’ll punch you in your kangaroo pouch!”, the woman hissed, and kicked him in the chest, before walking over to us. Once she saw me, her face instantly went from murderous to gleeful, and she reached out her hand to greet me.

“Harley Quinn. Pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said; grabbing my hand, and pulling me in to a tight hug.

Surprised, I simply patted her back, and then pulled away.

“You smell nice”, she whispered in my ear, before stepping back to join the others.

I was suddenly terrified and ecstatic at once. The queen of Gotham. It was like meeting actual royalty; if that royalty was crazy as hell, and had access to weapons.

They stood there; a motley crew of deadly weirdos, smiling and/or grimacing at me.

“Diablo. Deadshot. Killer Croc. Harley Quinn. Captain Boomerang. This is Chess”.

Basketball mans – correction, Deadshots – eyes lit up.

“You’re the invisible girl”.

“That’s her”, Flag answered.

“Can you talk for yourself, mami?”, asked the tattooed man – Diablo.

“I always thought a woman should be seen and not heard”, said Digger.

I smiled, disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was back on the floor, wincing in pain, from my knee on his back. I leant towards his ear, still invisible.

“Are you sure about that?”, I purred, and dug my nails into the skin of his neck.

He yelped, turning around quickly; and I fell back, landing on my butt, before I sprang up, to stand next to Flag. Only then I made myself visible again.

Digger scrambled to get to his feet, and stepped towards me; a sneer on his face.

Flag stepped in front of me spreading his arms, as if protecting me. What is up with this guy?, I thought.

Deadshot stepped forward to face Digger, and Croc took a hold of his arms, holding him in place.

“Stay cool, man”, Deadshot said. “Looks like we’re going to be working with this lady now, so you need to back of”.

Digger settled down, but not before shooting me a look I couldn’t figure out whether was angry, or strangely aroused.

Flag turned to face me. “That wasn’t very smart”, he smiled.

“What? He has a mouth on him”, I answered.

“The last guy who used that sentence, lost his spot on this team in a pretty bad way. The spot you are now going to fill”. He went to stand next to me again, folding his arms across his torso.

“What happened to him?”, I asked.

“We don’t talk about it”, Harley pouted. “It was kind of gross. Speaking of which! Did you get yours yet?”. She sprang forward, putting her hand on my neck, as if searching for something.

“That’s the next step”, Flag said. He reached for his belt, and pulled out a strange looking gun.

None of the crew in front of me would look me in the eyes. Only Deadshot furrowed his brow, and kept eye contact with me; then pushing his lips into a thin line, before mouthing sorry.

Flag put the gun to my neck, and before I had time to react with anything more than a gasp, he pulled the trigger, and a sharp pain – there one second, gone the next – spread throughout the skin around the wound he’d made.

He let me go, lowered the gun, before meeting my eyes with a pained look. “It’s official”, he said, and put the gun into its holster.

I stood there. Mouth agape. Confused.

Deadshot stepped forward, patted my shoulder once, and then walked back towards the basketball.

“Welcome to the Suicide Squad”, he called out, made a shot, and the ball went into the hoop again.

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