#how they got fired because he was holding up traffic and how he stepped in their three-day potato salad

[niamhuncensored]

on the one hand, i understand why batman doesn't kill. i understand that a tenant batman's belief is that anyone can change for the better at any time, and that killing them cuts off that potential.

on the other hand, we genre-savvy readers know that that just won't happen and/or won't last for most of the rogues gallery. To us, outside the narrative, it becomes less like "anyone can change, we just have to give them the ability to change," and more like "I demand an omelette. No, I will not break eggs, what do you take me for?"

The Joker needs to fucking die.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Prompt: Evan tells Tommy to “Get ready for a rigorous night” or “get ready to burn lots of calories and sweat” or something suggestive so Tommy thinks he’s getting lucky and it’s nice to see Buck take charge; but then when Evan comes over, whatever he was referring to/bringing was NOT Sex

Nonny, I had so much fun with this, thank you :) This is fluff and crack, I suppose. And I'm not sorry. Once more Tommy's POV. Have fun! Here's all 4 prompt fills on AO3 in case anybody wants to leave a keysmash :)

You're Mine

— I’m burning inside and we both know why —

"Get ready for a rigorous night!"

Tommy chokes on the coffee that Buck has shoved into his hand just a minute ago (he’s eager to buy coffee for Tommy since he’s finally learned his preferred method of preparation). And then, with that cheeky wide grin, the guy bursts out something like that, in the middle of the sidewalk, still within earshot of the fire station.

Buck pats him on the shoulders, around which he puts his arm a moment later and asks, "You all right?"

"This coffee is just hot. It’s a very hot coffee. Wh… what did you say?"

It’s not like Tommy to stutter, but Buck still has that sassy look on his pretty face.

"I've got plans for us tonight," Buck exclaims, gesticulating fiercely –is he just excited or is he already aroused? You never know with this man.

"Plans."

Tommy tries very hard to make a deadpan face, but how could anybody, talking to Buck?

"Oh yeah," Buck returns as he opens the driver's door of Tommy's car, "but my lips are sealed, prepare for a surprise."

Tommy is definitely surprised. And confused. He puts his coffee on the roof of the car to check his pockets for the keys, still wondering why Buck gets behind the wheel of his vehicle (and why he’s willing to give him the keys, should he finally find them).

He finds them, and yes, Buck drives Tommy’s car, that's as self-evident as how he slipped into Tommy's life in the first place or that they’re headed for the loft. During the ride, they talk about all sorts of things, which you have to give Buck credit for because usually, the man has a hard time keeping a secret. Tommy is only half listening, still processing the announcement of a „rigorous night“.

But they’re still in the middle of Buck's discovery process. Buck is no doubt eager when it comes to that topic, and his sexual experiences are, well, a subject of conversation in other fire stations, too. The rumors are hardly exaggerated, because Tommy also has already learned a lot about Buck so far. For example, that his bedroom voice is a whole octave lower, and that he’s exceptionally keen on (and good at) dirty talking in this voice. Or that he writes such unrestrained text messages that Tommy turns off his phone if there’s a risk that someone might accidentally glance at his display. He’s a good, no, a perfect kisser, he loves to touch and makes the cutest little noises when he’s touched.

And that’s about it.

Tommy wonders if this is his fault. Of course, their shifts often don't match, they don't see each other as often as they both would like, but maybe it's because he's holding back too much. If growing up in a toxic household has taught him one thing, it’s not to push somebody you like. And it happens he likes that man a lot. 

So far, he’s approached the whole matter kind of like a project you divide into steps and milestones, a project called „Introduce Evan Buckley Into Sex With a Man.“ He’s just taken baby steps so far, trying to give Buck his room, letting him decide when he’s ready. Maybe Buck has just decided that this time is now. And that’s actually pretty hot.

Tommy is quite distracted during their ride through a heavy evening rush hour. First of all, Buck drives like a maniac as soon as there is even the vaguest gap in the traffic, and Tommy is pretty attached to his car, his life and to Buck. And second, Tommy, who has made the first move in pretty much all of his past relationships – and has sometimes regretted it – imagines in somewhat too vivid colors what Buck might be up to.

"Oh, wait, I forgot something," Buck says, pulling across the lane at breakneck speed; Tommy clings to the door handle. No one should jump out of a moving car, but the impulse is definitely there. Tommy laments his squealing tires as the car stops, parked halfway straight.

"Be right back," Buck calls, and he's gone.

He virtually runs – you can't call it anything else, he doesn't walk normally – into a 7/11. Tommy looks at himself in the vanity mirror, runs his fingers through his hair and sniffs his shirt, and Buck’s back. He throws a brown paper bag onto the back seat.

"Can't miss this," he says.

That crooked grin and the slightly flushed cheeks are a bit of a giveaway. It's downright cute, he must have bought condoms. Tommy slides a little uneasily back and forth in his seat as Buck starts the engine again. This has maybe as much to do with the fact that the guy is already exceeding the speed limit when he starts off as with the condoms Tommy has been carrying in his pockets for weeks.

He wonders what he actually expected. Dating Buck has been a ride so far, for sure. It's not every day that you get invited to a wedding shortly after meeting someone. It's also not every day that you rescue people from a sinking ship together. In that sense, this is harmless. Buck is just enthusiastic, and since Tommy has discovered that he enjoys being attached to those sensual lips, that's fine. However, the tension is almost killing him.

"Must be some hot stuff you've got planned for tonight," he remarks casually. 

"Absolutely," Buck exclaims with a broad grin, and Tommy regrets asking, because he starts gesticulating again, and he would prefer Buck to keep both hands on the wheel. "You won't regret it. It's about time someone showed you the ropes."

It's a remark that is as cheeky as it is quirky, but Tommy realizes that he finds it very stimulating. Perhaps he shouldn't take it too literally, after all, they've never talked about such preferences before, but the idea is certainly... inspiring. Buck is clearly in the right mood, and Tommy decides he can play along.

"I'm already looking forward to my snack," he returns.

Buck gives him a look – oh dear, watch the road, Evan – and laughs, asking, "Were you watching me in the store? Ah, wait, if you can already guess what I'm up to, don't say anything. I've been thinking about how to do it for days, so don't spoil it for me."

"Don't worry, if you like it mysterious, I'm your man," Tommy quips.

For the rest of the ride they exchange more jokey and, in Tommy’s view, slightly lewd remarks, and if Buck's intention was to tease him into being restless like a teenager before his first time, he's succeeded.

While in the elevator to the loft, they make out a bit, which definitely heightens the tension. It looks like a romantic evening in Buck's apartment. He definitely planned this, Tommy thinks, because Buck had a shift and must have set this up beforehand. The blinds on the windows in the corner with his sofa are already down. Buck, who like most firemen thinks candles in the apartment are the devil's work, switches on a couple of fake LED-candles with a remote control.

Then he gets two beers, drops onto the couch and says, "Well, I think it's time."

"O… kay?"

Tommy blinks, thinking that's a strange approach even for Buck, but who is he to complain?

"Sit down, I'm about to start," says Buck and tosses Tommy the bag he brought from the store.

"Oh," Tommy manages to utter, "that's ... I mean, if you say so…"

Surprised, he realizes that he is nervous. He knows Buck is a go-getter, even in bed, but this seems a bit too much like they both have planned a project. If he pulls out a clipboard, we need to talk, Tommy thinks. 

"So," Buck begins solemnly, "I set this out since Christopher told me... You're crushing the potato chips, Tommy."

"What?"

Tommy is still trying to understand how Christopher suddenly slipped into this conversation, pressing the bag to his chest a little too tightly out of sheer tension. Now he looks inside, and sure enough, he finds two bags of potato chips.

"I didn't know which one you liked. It took me almost a month to find your favorite coffee, so I thought I'd go with the two most popular varieties."

Buck starts babbling, which means he's nervous, but Tommy doesn't quite understand why. He rummages in the bag… there really aren't any condoms in it.

Oh. Oh, damn.

"Christopher," he says, and Buck looks at him with a frown that rumples his beautiful forehead, "Huh?"

"You said something about Eddie’s kid."

"Oh, right," Buck replies with a grin, and he starts gesticulating again, "He told me that you agreed with him on Revenge of the Sith. It being the best movie of the trilogies? Come on, I love him, but that kid has no idea. He never understood Return of the Jedi. I agree that you need to have seen both, but I figured you're a grown man, you need to form an informed opinion."

Buck takes a deep breath, and Tommy thinks that even now, in this fit of nerdiness, he's incredibly cute. This hits him a little unexpectedly, because actually, it should be a slightly embarrassing cold shower.

"This is about Star Wars?" he asks, and he can't stop himself from laughing.

"Yeah, sure... so you didn't guess it after all! Wait, what did you think it was about?"

Buck cocks his head, but right now, he so much resembles a puppy that Tommy couldn’t bear to pull the treat right out from under his nose.

"It's not that important," Tommy waves it off, sits down next to Buck and fleetingly kisses his flushed cheeks. "Revenge of the Sith is the cornerstone of order 66. You need to watch it to understand the clone’s motivation in The Bad Batch."

Then he looks at Buck, who launches into a long-winded explanation of why Return of the Jedi is the better movie in every case, but he doesn’t really listen, he’s already lost in those blue eyes again.

"Turn on the movie and we'll see," he says, but he thinks he won’t be able to focus at all. There’s a thought rising inside him, and it won’t let him go.

Good heavens. I love this idiot.

[nerdyenby]

Third Life playlist

This is an explanation for my song choices for the Third Life segment of my Traffic Series playlist

Bang by AJR: this whole song is very much giving the same ‘Something’s going to happen but I don’t know what, thanks for coming along to find out’ energy as I get from the start of Third Life. Something’s going on, it’s not gonna end well, but we’re not particularly bothered, not yet at least. I also like to go for a double meaning and interpret the “bang” as Scar’s first death.

High Up by half•alive: “Behind your back a cold surprise, in favor of the third degree. I took a breath and took the knife, no I won’t defend the killer in me.” After accidentally killing Scar, Grian offers his own life to the man, vowing to do whatever Scar wants. When all Scar wants is company, the two establish Monopoly Mountain together and Grian comes to enjoy living with Scar. “Sitting on the mountain now I’m high up, never wanna come down. When you look at me, I’m lifted.”

Say It, Just Say It by The Mowgli’s: This song goes out to all the Third Life duos. “I will take your side, you make me feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life. And I could die to find that simple kind of love you can’t deny.”

Kamikaze by WALK THE MOON: I was familiar with the term “kamikaze” but wanted to clarify what exactly it meant in this context. According to Cambridge dictionary, a kamikaze attack is a sudden and violent onslaught, usually by an attacker who knows they will not make it out alive. I find this very fitting to 3L!Grian as he went mad causing death and destruction early on with no regard for his own life. “Going down with my wings on fire, guess I’ll see you in another life. Stepping out of body, you can tell everybody I’m a kamikaze.”

Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift: Even after Grian dies and the terms of their deal are satisfied, he still goes back to Scar. It was barely a choice. “They said the end is coming, everyone’s up to something, I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.”

Fight for it by Joy Oladokun: “You’re sticking with me tonight for life, I’m sticking with you.” People dying left and right, Grian and Scar stick together, fighting for their lives.

The Great War by Taylor Swift: “All that bloodshed, crimson clover, the bombs were closer. My hand was the one you reached for all throughout the Great War. I’ll always remember the burning embers. I vowed not to fight anymore if we survived the Great War.” Final deaths raining around them, they leaned on each other heavily, relying on each other until it got to the final three. Scar was the one to bring Grian to red. “Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I’d been betrayed,” only for Scar to offer him his final life and the crown. Grian watched awestruck as Scar later down his life, giving the other complete permission to kill him.

Graveyard by Halsey: “It’s crazy when the thing you love the most is the detriment.” This song can be from either Grian or Scar’s point of view of how Grian keeps being the one to hurt Scar the most. They keep running back to each other, hoping it will change, but it never does. Whether it’s Scar’s first death or his last, it’s Grian. It’s always Grian. “When the hand you wanna hold is a weapon, and you’re nothing but skin.”

Gladiator by Waterparks: This is about the final fight in the cactus ring and all the forces pushing them into it: the ghosts, the Watchers, and us the viewers. “And what it comes back to is gladiators. Make them fight to the death. And they would cheer on a gladiator, but the whole time the gladiator wasn’t fighting because he liked fighting[…] he was fighting completely for survival. And his whole survival completely relied upon a stadium full of people.”

Getaway Car by Taylor Swift: After killing Scar, Grian reflects on how they met. “I struck a match and blew your mind, but I didn’t mean it, and you didn’t see it.” Their bond was formed from destruction and guilt. They were never going to end any other way. “Don’t pretend it’s such a mystery, think about the place where you first met me.”

? by Tate McRae: “It’s crazy to me because you grow up, you lose friends, you’re suddenly scared of things that you were literally never scared of before. And when I was younger, I used to think I could fly.” Grian’s final death: the fall.

Finale by AJR: Grian winning the Third Life and having to make Last Life. “Congratulations on your bit of success, we can’t wait to see what you do next.” The speaker can be interpreted the Watchers or us the audience (if you interpret them as distinct). “They wanted heaven from me, I gave ‘em hell. Now they want something bigger, I’m overwhelmed.”

[roselungs]

The Details

Do you know why people die when they are pierced by a bullet? Because 70% of the human body is made up of water Just as if you made a hole in a water tank.

Was it a random clash dancing at the head of the alley when I passed Or was there a sniper watching me and counting my final steps?

Was it a stray bullet Or was I a stray man even though I’m a third of a century old?

Is it friendly fire? How can it be When I’ve never made friends with fire in my life?

Do you think I got in the way of the bullet Or it got in my way? So how am I supposed to know when it’s passing and which way it will go?

Is an encounter with a bullet considered a crash in the conventional sense Like what happens between two cars? Will my body and my hard bones smash its ribs too And cause its death? Or will it survive?

Did it try to avoid me? Was my body soft? And did this little thing as small as a mulberry feel female in my maleness?

The sniper aimed at me without bothering to find out that I’m allergic to snipers’ bullets And it’s an allergy of a most serious kind, and can be fatal.

The sniper didn’t ask my permission before he fired, an obvious example of the lack of civility that has become all too common these days.

ـــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــــ

I was exploring the difference between revolution and war when a bullet passed through my body, and extinguished a torch lit by a primary school teacher from Syria acting in cooperation with a Palestinian refugee who had paid with his land to solve anti-Semitism in Europe and been forced to emigrate to a place where he met a woman who was like memories.

It was a wonderful feeling, like eating an ice cream in winter, or having unprotected sex with a woman you don’t know in a city you don’t know under the influence of cocaine, or…

A passerby tells me half of what he wants to tell me so I believe him then we stab each other like two lovers, a woman beckons to me to follow her so I do and we have a child who looks like betrayal, a sniper kills me so I die, the sky falls on the passersby so the tourists flee, the sky falls on the passersby and my heart doesn’t flee, the sky falls upwards so a poet commits collective suicide in his room even though he was alone that evening.

That evening oblivion attacked me unawares, so I bought the memory of a soldier who hadn’t returned from war, and when and when I noticed the flaw in the time, I couldn’t find a place of exile appropriate to my wound so I decided not to die again.

The city is older than the memories, the curse is fenced in by melancholy, time is late for its appointments, walls enclose time with monotony, death looks like my face, the poet leans on a woman in his poem, the general marries my wife, the city vomits its history and I swallow the streets and the crowd swallows me, I, who distribute my blood to strangers, and share a bottle of wine with my solitude, beg you, send my body by express mail, distribute my fingers equally between my friends.

This city is bigger than a poet’s heart and smaller than his poem, but it is big enough for the dead to commit suicide without troubling anyone, for traffic lights to bloom in the suburbs, for a policeman to become part of the solution and the streets a mere background to truth.

That evening, when my heart stumbled, a woman from Damascus took hold of me and taught me the alphabet of her desire, I was lost between God whom the shaykh planted in my heart and God whom I touched in her bed, that evening, my mother was the only one who knew I would never return, my mother was the only one who knew, my mother was the only, my mother.

I sold my white days on the black market, and bought a house overlooking the war, and the view was so wonderful that I could not resist its temptation, so my poem deviated from the shaykh’s teachings, and my friends accused me of cutting myself off, I put kohl on my eyes and became more Arab, and drank camel’s milk in a dream and woke up as a poet, I was watching the war like lepers watch people’s eyes, and had arrived at frightening truths about poetry and the white man, about the season of migration to Europe, and about cities that receive tourists in peacetime and mujahidin in wartime, about women who suffer too much in peacetime, and become fuel for the war in wartime.

In a reconstructed city like Berlin lies a secret that everyone knows, which is that the… No, I will not repeat what is known, but I will tell you something you don’t know: the problem with war is not those who die, but those who remain alive after the war.

It was the most beautiful war I’ve been in in my life, full of metaphors and poetic images, I remember how I used to sweat adrenalin and piss black smoke, how I used to eat my flesh and drink screams, death with his scrawny body leaned on the destruction committed by his poem, and wiped his knife clean of my salt, and the city rubbed my shoes with her evening and the street smiled and the city counted the fingers of my sorrow and dropped them on the road leading to her, death weeps and the city remembers the features of her killer and sends me a stabbing by post, threatening me with happiness, and hangs my heart out on her washing line strung between two memories, and oblivion pulls me towards myself, deeply towards myself, deeply, so my language falls on morning, and balconies fall on songs, headscarves on kisses, back streets on women’s bodies, the details of alleyways on history, the city falls on the cemeteries, dreams fall on the prisons, the poor on joy, and I fall on memory.

When I became a member of the Union of the Dead, my dreams improved and I began to practise yawning freely, and despite the drums of war singing close to my bloated body I had plenty of time to befriend a stray dog, who chose not to eat from my corpse despite his hunger, and was content to sleep by my feet.

A number of people tried to pull me out of the way, but the sniper argued with his gun so they changed their minds, he was an honourable sniper, worked honestly, and didn’t waste time or people.

That little hole, Remaining after the bullet had passed through, Emptied me of my contents, Everything flowed out gently, Memories, Names of friends, Vitamin C, Wedding songs, The Arabic dictionary, The temperature of 37 degrees, Uric acid, The poems of Abu Nuwas, And my blood.

The moment the soul begins to escape through the little gate the bullet has opened, things become clearer, the theory of relativity turns into something self-evident, mathematical equations that used to be vague become a simple matter, the names of classmates we’ve forgotten come back to us, life is suddenly illuminated in perfect detail, the childhood bedroom, mother’s milk, the first trembling orgasm, the streets of the camp, the portrait of Yasser Arafat, the smell of coffee with cardamom inside the house, the sound of the morning call to prayer, Maradona in Mexico in 1986, and you.

Just as if you are eating your beloved’s fingers, or suckling from an electric cable, or being inoculated against shrapnel, just as if you are a memory thief, come, let’s give up poetry, exchange the songs of summer for gauze dressings and harvest poems for surgical thread, leave your kitchen and the children’s bedroom and follow me so that we can drink tea behind the sandbags, the massacre has room for everyone, put your dreams in the shed and give the plants on the balcony plenty of water, for the the discussion with iron may go on for a while, leave behind Rumi, Averroes and Hegel, and bring along Machiavelli and Huntington and Fukuyama, for we need them now, leave behind your laughter, your blue shirt and warm bed, and bring your teeth and nails and hunting knife, and come.

Throw away the Renaissance and bring on the inquisition, Throw away European civilization and bring on the Kristallnacht, Throw away socialism and bring on Joseph Stalin, Throw away Rimbaud’s poems and bring on the slave trade, Throw away Michel Foucault and bring on the Aids virus, Throw away Heidegger’s philosophy and bring on the purity of the Aryan race, Throw away Hemingway’s sun that also rises and bring on the bullet in the head, Throw away Van Gogh’s starry sky and bring on the severed ear, Throw away Picasso’s Guernica and bring on the real Guernica with its smell of fresh blood, We need these things now, we need them to begin the celebration.

— Ghayath Almadhoun, tr. Catherine Cobham

[leopoldainter]

Shows his hand

Knuckles thumb

Tremors monster

Less a member

Let's take it up a notch or

Maybe I will tell you on the box

Buy me:digital hyphen touché

Hibba

Take a side

But I already have a pair look at my toes

Mom where's Bart?

I'm sure he can find us, I'm trying to decide on whether the Harry Potter "person" just went around ten years at night till Durslyeldarman found some kind of peace in couch.

I think it was shawshanked

Tim Robbins

Forget that hook

Woah! Shadow

Sorry Ms.

Which button did you press can you hear me now

Final Destination

There's just one thing I didn't mention

But then again love a yule log.

Homer I found a shoe store with a window

No time to explain

Try the windshield!

You should see how they work in Germany

I'm a cartoon

Everything is beautiful

Along 8na sexy wifi ugh

I think that might be a gas station.

I'll just have to give him a peace of my mind sut up you face

Lol, let show you how we do it in Arizona

Traffic will resume

Hold your horses

You can't do that you should see him try tell us he's the president

Windshield

BananA peel next summer

We'll see hunny

Wheel see

A promise some fish smell and the hismuth trophy pep

To

Bishop bismuth for the pain. Start spreading the news, it's going away so quick you better take the train. Because

1

2

3

Left up, olive wing.

Only if she's five threeVinylunpicturdd

Next time there won't be a next time just style

-she went with the couch gag Constantino wasn't that canceled?

Some how no we make them buy our clothes and if they don't wear them we send the student to detention

Cdsb ofeaster Nontario

Bus cancelations website

Radio disney

CBC doashradio tickle one

Some bonce ofbakkLup curlpiGlobal

Cool FM

NTV from Newfoundland 22 Simpsons credits a few and others shh'theatretical polite catch it

I'm chewing aint

But why wouldn't you check in sometime

A party store she called it pouncy house

It wasn't password locked.

Is he some kind of cop.

No, are you.

Yes

Oh

Ok, this is Vivaldi this is dealing more volume

What, I thought she said she was in jail

I can slide vindman

Resistor yo drug hung,

I'm her friend forloinest. Andy some of the matches were dry.

.

You know, there's an easier way to take showers.

Do you know any black people.

Have you met me mechanic.

This old man he played one hiplexapology it's not

Comin, back a parachute or three, we break up on live radio. British, pop artist,punk rock group a briefbrigade and no seems she will not step aside it's some kind of revolution of the moon landing Watch out for the water too late.

Neal Armstrong touched downtoday

She so didn't abdicate for this

Someone needs to find this river

It's in the one in the jungle, bring some machetes your going to run into some bamboo along the way.

Actually, we're more worried about oranguatans

Excuse me ms.I have met Jane goodal. Yoh are no Jane goodal.Research.

Justboi george

One wants To hear

Performanceladar

Hands unicorn.

You sure you read this. Yolk smoothy

Somethings in school will be worth writing

O, pain. A door. What now who ever shall find me.

Mattress score

Dust so you know

The fire alarm doesn't dismiss people I do

Moon beam

Prison

Jupiter

Power

Action

How did she hear me.

I should have taken that quiz home but then how'd she get her fridge muggle.

Lift

Tuck

Shoe prints the glue some where's a good place to roll from

So many kinds of whistle some rounds and doweldioily a bulbof wood should do.

Mine just needs a Lil water indeb then you can hear what it sounds like to dogs.

O you poor thing, I thought you were barking. Fucking canada.

But this was balto ansld balto do sled. Nash. Medicine box.

Good dog

I wanted to play it at home not take the one from you fo free.

I got your sister her own.

Fukofgh

Fiber, but stirred in, it's sweet. Maybe.

No no no thev20 and this ten but lengthwise.

I assume he's a Winifred of some kind. Lola butslo

Eat Here ! Lansdowne park the perfect place for a picnic. Stay awhile check out the X. Occupied a portal potti. She's white.

Betty, leave do nice for once.

A garbage can wouldn't look good there

-Betty, Francis. He told me he was running for the democratic ticket and I filled a bed sheet.

The AC salesman was inside

He came all the way to

I'd say About here.

That'd be a Glasgow.

It's empty

Could be the heat no

No, I was banging around in the laundry room

Really, the AC guy in my house.

It was so exciting.

Well, have tried frozen food

No, I get through the produce section and wait a minute I haven't weighed anything and that scale says you should have gone into school after walking but this one goes this way this one says it's uneven this apple has a bite of itself in me it was really good looking.

Some if those were load bearing apples you'd need something to balance it out.

A marshmallow.

What, who are you married to.

My work, take my word for it.

Well, she's white and she didn't want bread.

They must be poor

Or something

Couldn't be anything but that.

So fine they went with the "cake" the new girl tiny boyfriend so there was some mumbling and that's not the other Ireland.

You should see if what my dad thinks of it, he still pays.

From here

Roof, intersection

Did I miss anything

Cake and the neighbors how about you.

I drove to the grocery store then after that it turned out was actually a ditch, bizarre, that's not awake choke. Nice, these are my shit boots.

Not this summer betty. Maybe next one, so... hi I'm divorced

Ladies I found a candidate.

Oh let's throw a party.

I'll say he'll be here shortly.

He's always asking for stuff so I get it home.

And he's still a democrat

Technically I volunteer

Eksnat hemrockey starlord

Excuse me?

Your single, I should have started out better.

I have heard home maids butter marines just so expensive.

Betty, mice came inmi window.

Maybe, he wanted you to do the math. You know, eventually you sleep starts to coincide with there's and you now have a new skill and an extra pair for chores or pants, sometimes a girls just a tom boy.

I knew there's a reason they ask if I'm sure I know what I'm doing so I hang up and go 1 the same

She said something

She said he's not here anymore there ElozabethChen who are you what doubts left but look

SleightohanlebarcRushinfortrain station and shepherds pie is what's that. Mashed potato cornbeeflayer Pyrex safe indoors washable clear

So wrists so so

Jogging good

Health to all a balcony

.

A brief relief approach the broch

They look heavy which means there expensive we're pentagon

Most of the hard hats missing but these effects raise doubt

Where's the goat

Those sound familiar like a true vanilla hold up.

Turn that down

Slower

S

O

Many things

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[vanderlustwords]

What if Steve leaves and she finds out she’s pregnant? I really love your alternate ending where he leaves for Peggy and wondering if you could write more about it. Doesn’t have to be him leaving a child behind that was just a question that popped into my head

Pairing: (past) Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Continuation of: This Dress is Karma || Alternate Ending

Warnings: unbeta'd. Angst ending for Steeb.

Note: I don't know how you roped me into writing a 2.3k continuation but here I am LOL

Count: ~2.3k

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You shut the door with a soft click, waiting until you hear the quiet footsteps fade away. The lump in your throat gets harder to swallow as you turn around, leaning back against the door and let out a shaky sigh.

You can't help but think those were some brave words you said to Steve. You desperately wanted them to be true. You did want to be so happy that it would physically pain Steve if he were to ever witness it.

You wanted it to be true that you were never going to see him again because he had hurt you so much, and he needed to stay away from you.

But when you lift your trembling hand to your stomach, you wonder if everything you said had been nothing more than a brave front.

"You alright?"

You immediately look up and see Bucky stepping out of the guest room, fully dressed with towel-dried hair.

You swallow and force a smile as you drop your hand.

"Yeah, you ready to head out?" You ask him as you stand up straight.

Bucky nods with a grumble before he grabs a strand of his hair. "I need a haircut first, though. Do you think we could find a barber first?"

"Sure," you say, turning around and opening the door with Bucky following you behind.

"You sure everything is okay?" Bucky asks you again.

The way your throat feels raw, the hysterical words that want to escape your mouth make you feel dizzy. You want to put your hand against your stomach again as if to see if you could suddenly feel a bump.

But you refrain because Bucky would get suspicious. Well, he'd probably think you had a stomachache first, but if you didn't stop acting strange, he would pry.

"Everything's fine," you mumble.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

As the weeks pass, more and more things begin to slip from you.

There is a layer of never-ending panic that sits right beneath your skin, crawling and setting your nerves on fire.

When you began to get morning sickness and threw up into the toilet, you began to shake.

The reality of your situation began to hit you.

You were pregnant.

With Steve's child.

Steve, who had abandoned you and was grey and old and probably would pass away soon.

The notion of it all had you throwing up in the toilet again.

You were alone, and you were scared.

What were you going to do? You couldn't rely on Steve anymore.

You looked down at your relatively flat stomach still, placing your hand against it.

There was a life growing inside you. What were you going to do?

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

It was harder to hide when Bucky came over almost every other day, even though he didn't live with you. He had stayed for a week after the confrontation with Steve but quickly found his own place.

Initially, that had made you feel more alone, like everyone couldn't wait to escape from you. But it had worked out when you needed alone time.

Bucky was currently in your kitchen, cooking up steaks for lunch for the two of you.

The smell of it made you deathly pale.

"What's going on with you?" Bucky asked with a frown as he set the steaks aside to rest.

You had to swallow hard before you could answer. "Nothing," you said weakly. "I'm—I'm sorry. I know you came all the way here to cook but I'm not really hungry."

"You've been saying that for days now, doll," Bucky pursed his lip. "I feel like I haven't seen you eat a proper meal lately. What's going on? I know things have been...hard. Especially since you last saw Steve, but this isn't okay. I need you to eat something in front of me that isn't pretzels, bananas, or bread."

The idea of sliding a piece of steak basted in butter had your stomach knot itself painfully.

You shook your head, but when Bucky insisted, slicing the steak and you watched the juices run, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You took off to the bathroom in haste.

"Hey—" Bucky called out and took off after you, but you were quick to shut the door before you fell to your knees over the toilet and hurled.

"What's wrong?" Bucky yelled through the door, trying to jiggle it open but found you had locked it. "Open the door, doll. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said shakily as you grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth, eyes hot with tears. "I just—I just haven't been feeling well."

The silence on the other side of the door only lingered for a moment before Bucky used his metal arm to turn the doorknob so hard, it broke open.

He found you sitting on the floor, over the toilets, eyes rimmed red and your face pale.

Bucky carefully walks in and kneels slowly before you.

He thinks back the couple of weeks and how you've been going to the bathroom a lot more, and how you don't like going to restaurants to eat. You've been eating at home and the strangest things and wearing more flowy shirts.

He looks at your face, and the way you're trying to hold back your tears makes Bucky feel dread.

"Doll..." he calls you softly. "Are you—Are you pregnant?"

You let out a choked sob in response, face dropping as you close your eyes.

Bucky's quick to hold you in his arms as he strokes your back, his heart dropping.

There was only one person who could've gotten you pregnant.

There had been some dumb shit Steve's done the entire time Bucky's known him. Always getting into scraps he couldn't finish, always prideful when Bucky wanted to help him.

But it had been the first time Bucky's ever been so fucking pissed at Steve. It was the first time Bucky couldn't defend or make an excuse for his friend.

"Bucky, what am I going to do?" You trembled in his arms. "I can't—Steve isn't—I want to keep it but I'm alone."

Bucky swallowed so hard it was painful.

There was no fucking way he was ready to be a dad or step up in any kind of way—that is, if you even let him.

Fuck, you two didn't even have feelings for each other or anything. There was something, maybe, Bucky thought for the future. But now?

"You're not alone," Bucky reassured, keeping his voice still for your sake. "I'm here. I'm here all the way and I'm not gonna leave you, doll. Ever."

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

You manage to keep the fact that you're pregnant under the wraps easily. It helps that since saving the world, no one really meets up anymore. A part of you worries because you can't find Wanda anywhere, but you know she can find you if she wanted to.

Sam might be the only other person who knows, and Bucky was begrudging when accepting his help.

Months pass, and you're surprised how dedicated Bucky is. You're pretty sure you're on the verge of a mental breakdown constantly. A part of you worries Steve will show up, but Bucky reassures you that there's nothing Steve could do even if he did show up.

"Fuck..." you swore as Bucky was in the middle of figuring out how to build the crib the two of you got from Ikea. He looks up at you alarmingly. "I think my water just broke."

"Oh, shit, okay, okay!" Bucky jumps up right away and starts running around to grab the prepared bag as he helps you out into the car. "Don't panic!"

"Bucky, I'm literally about to push a baby out of my body. I'm going to fucking panic if I want to," you snap, and Bucky bites his lip to refrain from speaking as he zips through traffic.

"Oh, god," you say under your breath. You were having a baby. You were actually going to have a baby.

⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

"Bucky, you can't just carry her everywhere," you grumbled as you pushed the stroller through the park. "You're spoiling her."

"Yes, I can. She wants me to carry her and whatever my princess wants, she gets." Bucky declared indignantly at you while sticking his tongue out.

You sighed with a smile.

You couldn't believe a year has passed. Despite the time passing, you never really felt fully prepared as a mother. You were scared you were fucking it up all the time if you're honest.

Bucky holds your hand, and you give him a shy smile. That was new too. Slow and steady, as Bucky has always been, and you think you were falling for him because of that.

When you look up, your heart stops.

"Oh," Steve blinked.

Another year has passed, but you find Steve doesn't look too different. A little more tired perhaps, but still...Steve.

You feel panic creep up in your chest that threatens to become a panic attack before Bucky squeezes your hand.

"Breathe, doll," he whispers encouragingly to you, but it's loud enough for Steve to catch.

You do as he says, taking a few calming breaths. You want to keep walking, but it seems Steve can't stop staring at the child in Bucky's arms.

"Why don't you take Hazel to the pond? She really likes looking at the ducks," you tell Bucky, and he nods, warily looking at you and Steve. He sends Steve a curt nod before he takes the stroller with him and walks off.

Steve's eyes trail after Bucky.

You know then that he knows. It's not hard after all. Hazel looks like a spitting image of Steve, something that had been hard for you to deal with at first. Her blonde hair and blue eyes—the blue eyes were easier since Bucky's eyes were blue too, even if a darker shade.

But Hazel was so lovely; you loved her so easily.

"When did you know?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "The day before we all saved the world."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Steve's voice was pained and betrayed, and you cocked your brow at him.

"Why? So you would stay?"

"Yes, I would have!" Steve insisted.

The sheer stupidity of the situation had you give a humourless laugh.

"The last thing I want is for you to stay because of a baby, Steve. You wanted to leave, despite everything, you chose to leave. We would only hate each other in the long run."

"That's not true," Steve denied. "When I made that choice, it wasn't because I didn't love you anymore."

"No, you just didn't love me enough."

The words rang clear, almost throwing Steve off-kilter.

The silence fell, and the two of you could hear Hazel laughing with Bucky in the distance as she shrieked.

"Don't you think I deserved to know about her?" Steve asked with his lips pursed.

"No," you answered honestly. "What do you, a 90 something-year-old man, have to offer her? You certainly can't step up and be her father. Your time keeps running out and the last thing I need is for Hazel to have instability. Did you want to be her grandfather? She's already met mine, so do you want to pretend to be Bucky's?"

"So, you're just gonna lie to her and let her think Bucky is her dad?"

Your eyes flash angrily.

"Bucky is her dad. He's the only dad that counts in every way. Do you know how hard it was for me? I was scared shitless, Steve. You can delude yourself into thinking otherwise, but you're unreliable. I couldn't come to you for help," you snap at him. "Do you know who was there every time I was puking my guts out, crying or screaming, or wanted pickles with peanut butter at 2AM? Who do you think was there for every appointment. Who bought fifty parenting and baby books to study religiously? It was Bucky. Even though I knew he was scared too, he was there. So, don't fucking try to make me and Bucky look like the bad guy. You have NOTHING to offer to Hazel."

Steve stood there wide-eyed, guilt crowding over his eyes. Steve doesn't want to say he regrets going back because that would mean a lifetime of regrets he can't get back.

"You're right," Steve said slowly, trying to appease your anger. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not my place to say anything."

Even though Steve says it, he looks over to the little girl squealing in Bucky's arms. He looks at her blonde hair that she clearly got from him and your nose.

He and Peggy had children—children he loved more than anything.

But...the idea of his child with you...that was another reality he missed.

It seems to be that way always for him, Steve thought somberly. He was always missing something. Maybe you had been right about him.

Steve listens as you take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Do you want to meet her?" You offer, and Steve can tell it's difficult for you to say those words.

"If you're okay with it," Steve said slowly.

You nod stiffly. "It's fine as long as you respect my wishes and refrain from telling her you're her bio dad. I want to save that conversation for when she's older and able to understand it more."

You don't say it, but Steve is already thinking how he'll most likely be gone by then.

The two of you begin to walk towards Bucky and Hazel.

"What will you tell her?" Steve asked.

"The truth," you shrug. "That you were the world's greatest hero and you loved her and would've loved to get to know her if you stayed, but you didn't and it wasn't her fault."

"Right, it was mine," Steve felt a sting in the back of his throat.

"I don't think it was anyone's fault," you tell him. "It's just karma, Steve. I wasn't enough for you and now you're not enough for Hazel."

Right, Steve thought somberly as he looked at you in your summer dress. It was different from the sexy red one that used to drive him insane.

It was a calm peace, a show of your motherhood and graceful maturity.

This dress is karma, too.

[theunquenchablethirst]

Joyride (Jerome X Reader)

Smut, NSFW, 18+, porn without plot, honestly just hot, nasty filth 

Do not read unless you are a deviant!

Reader is walking home down a street she knows just like the back of her hand, but today there's an unfamiliar car parked up. Paying it no mind she continues past it, but soon discovers today is not going to be any regular day when a sinister voice calls to her from the mysterious car behind her.

Vaginal fingering, blowjobs, rough sex, semi-public sex, car sex, bondage, chocking, spanking, dom/sub undertones, dub-con, strong language, murder, kidnap

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Masterlist

I walked that street nearly every day, to and from Gotham High. I had for years. This would be my last year as I was 18 and about to graduate.

Everything seemed as normal as ever. The pretzel cart, the lady that walked her little dog, the kids playing jump rope. A fairly quiet street. I didn't know it then, but that day would be anything, but normal.

I was approaching the end of the street where I would cross the road. There was a car parked up I hadn't seen before. Big, black with tinted windows. I didn't pay it much attention and wasn't hesitant to carry on my walk past it. I reached the end of the street and stood waiting for the traffic to quiet so I could cross over, then behind me I heard the familiar sound of a car window winding down.

"Hey, princess." A sinister voice called.

I turned to look and peering out of the black car window was him. The most dangerous, most wanted man in Gotham city. Jerome Valeska.

I'd only seen him on the news and in papers before, but even then, he had scared me. He'd brought the city to its knees and left a trail of bodies and madness wherever he went. And now he was right in front of me.  

"Can I give you a ride?" He asked with his signature smile plastered on his scarred face, voice dripping with menace.

I froze still. I wanted to run as fast as I could, but his stare glued me to my spot.

"Come on, doll. I'll be nice."

I took a step back, weighing the risk of making a run for it. He sucked his teeth and looked down for something.

"I'd offer you candy, but uh..." He pulled a gun up to the window and pointed it at me.

"... Something tells me I won't need to." His smile somehow grew bigger as he locked his eyes on mine.

My heart was beating so loud I thought the whole city would be able to hear it. I had no choice. Knees weak, I nervously walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. I sat in the seat next to him, but pressed myself as close to the window as I could. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, even if it was only by a few inches.  

"Ah, safety first. Seatbelt." He said dropping his smile and cocking his head.

Not caring weather or not he was joking, I pulled down the belt and buckled myself in. I did not want to make him angry. He grinned eerily and panic rose in my chest as his eyes burned holes in me.  

He reached a gloved hand out to my face. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear and stroked his knuckles down my jaw line and neck. His hand moved lower still down my arm, only stopping when he got to my shaking hand. I was grasping my bag so tightly my knuckles had turned white. He tugged at it a few times wanting me to let go. I released the bag and he pulled it off my lap and into his.

"Let's see what we got here."

He started to rummage through my possessions pulling each one out, mostly dubbing them boring and dumping them out of the window.

"Pain killers, boring. Pencil case, extra boring. Ooh, Jolly Ranchers! Don't mind if I do!"

He popped a sweet in his mouth, threw the rest over his shoulder into the back seat and got back to snooping.

"Keys, boring. Oh! A diary! I'll save that for later! A can of mace...."

He paused then let out a loud cackle as he held the mace.

"Oh, princess! Bet you wish you'd switched this out for a gun right about now!" He continued to giggle as he dived a hand back in.

"Aha! Phone!" He dropped my bag back in my lap and opened up my flip phone.

"You won't be needing this." He smirked and snapped it, letting the two halves fall and disappear under the driver's seat. Dread began to settle in as it dawned upon me that I now had no way to call for help and my mace was lying in the street. Not that it would've been much use against him anyway.

"Ok! Let's get this party started!" His giggled as he turned the key in the ignition. He turned towards me and revved the engine.

"Vroom, vroom." He mocked.

I sat there clutching my bag, waiting for the car to start moving. He fiddled with the gear stick and then slammed his foot down on the pedal as if there was a deadly bug that needed to be squashed. The tyres screeched like they were taking a layer of tarmac with them and he took off like a boy racer.  

I let out a scream as the sudden, fast pace sent a shockwave right through me. I sent my hands searching for something, anything to hold on to. There was a turn coming up, but I noticed it too late and I was flung into the side of the door like a ragdoll. All the time the loudest noise in my ear was maniacal laughter coming from Jerome in driver's seat. He was driving like he stole it, but then again, it was entirely possible he did.

"More?" He looked at me with a mischievously.

I shook my head, breathlessly, praying to any god that was listening that he actually cared about my answer.

"I think more." He sharply turned into an empty car park and spun around and around and around. I was pressed right up against him as I clung to the bottom of my seat. He laughed and banged his hand on the wheel, continuing to spin us around.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" I screamed forgetting myself.  

"Oh, I love 'em with fire!" He laughed again.  

Then all of a sudden, he stopped. I jolted forwards like a crash dummy so hard I thought I would hit the windshield. He'd been right about the seatbelt. I stared straight ahead and tried to catch my breath, when I heard angry shouting. An employee of the restaurant that owned the car park was making his way over to us with a red face.

Jerome stuck his head out of the window.

"What's that, pal?"  

I heard more shouting.

"Ok." Jerome reached for the gun and shot the employee straight in the head. I gasped at the sound and he fell down like a sack of bricks.

"Problem solved." Jerome grinned and pocketed the gun.

I felt my stomach turn. I'd just seen a murder right in front of me. That poor man. Jerome started the car again and left the car park, where he'd left a dead body and certainly tyre tracks.

"Some fun, eh kid?" He smiled at me. I couldn't find any words to reply. He sighed.

"I hate awkward silences." He reached down and turned on the radio. He flicked through a few channels until he found one playing music he seemed to like. An old rock station.

"Now this is better!" He looked at me with a satisfied smile, but dropped it when I still didn't reply.

"How do I get you to talk? Do I gotta drop a quarter in ya?" He turned another corner onto a straight, quiet road.

"I know." He smirked with a menacing look in his eyes.  

He pushed the pedal down, once again picking up speed. He was driving like there was money on it, but I'd at least managed to brace myself this time. He slowed a little as he got in place to drive side by side with the only other car on the road. He chuckled darkly to himself and then I realized why. Fear took my senses when I saw in the not too far distance, heading straight at us was a giant truck. The driver in the car next to us began to honk the horn and flash obscene hand gestures as the truck grew closer, but Jerome simply turned the radio up and began singing along with the words.

"Jerome..." I said tugging at his arm.

Nothing. And the truck was now honking at us to move.  

"Jerome!"  

The truck was too close for comfort. The sense that I was about to be flattened because of the idiot at the wheel filled my body.

"Jerome, move the damn car!" I shook his arm fiercely and slammed my fists in my chair.

He finally burst out cackling maniacally with an outrageous smile.

He slammed down the pedal and pulled forward in front of the car beside us, missing the truck by a hair. He laughed and howled like it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced, whilst I sighed the biggest sigh of my life and slid low down my seat. He pulled over and parked.

"Nothing like a little near-death experience to get the blood flowing, eh doll?"  

I had melted into my seat and wasn't really paying attention.

"So, how'd you like me so far?"

"Is that a serious question?" I replied breathlessly. I didn't know where I got the confidence for it, but the words were coming out.

He just giggled.

"Ok, how about I behave... For a while."

"How about you let me go?"

He lifted a long finger at me.

"Tut tut, doll face. Don't make me wiggle my finger at you."

I shuffled backwards in my seat, propping myself upright again.

"So, you know my name? Are you stalking me?" He put his hand on his chest in mock fear.

"Everyone in Gotham knows your name. You're Jerome Valeska. You've terrorised the city and murdered dozens of people. The Gotham Gazette makes sure we don't miss these things."  

"The Gotham Gazette, huh? Note to self, send a gift basket their way." He chuckled to himself then looked at me.

“So, what’s yours?”

I told him my name. I was reluctant, but I was already here in the car with him.

“Hm, cute.” He replied.

I didn’t know why, but him calling me cute made me blush a little. I hoped he didn’t notice.

“You look fun.” He smiled.

“What do you mean?” I asked the question, but I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the answer.

He pulled my diary out of the door pocket.

“Let’s get to know you, shall we?”  

“That’s private.” I said sheepishly. I really didn’t want him reading what was in there, but I knew I couldn’t stop him.

“Not anymore.” Jerome flicked through the pages, skimming them for interesting thoughts and secrets. It didn’t look like he was finding anything juicy, until he stopped at one page and read it in its entirety.

“I got asked out by a guy in my maths class. He’s nice, but really boring. Just like everyone else in my life. Even if I wanted to go out with him, my dad wouldn’t allow it. He says men are the devil and the only one I can trust is him. Yeah right, Mr it’s 5’oclock somewhere. Even if I took that seriously, he doesn’t have anything to worry about. The only guys in my life are complete clichés. So very predictable, so very dull. I’m so bored of this same old-same old. I want something exciting, an adventure. I need some thrills in this beige goddamn existence!”

He repeated back to me the words I had written just a week prior. He turned to me with a predatory look in his eyes. He let the diary fall from his hands carelessly and I knew then that I would be his prey. He took his gloves off and reached a hand towards my knee. He stroked and squeezed my leg and then journeyed up higher, fingers crawling underneath the hem of my skirt.

“Be careful what you wish for, doll face.” He smirked, darkly.

My breath caught in my chest and I felt a warmth in my core.

"I thought you said you were gonna behave." I peeped.

"I did, didn't I? I guess I lied."  

He pulled my skirt up and ran a finger along my panty covered slit. He was turning me on. I wanted him. He was everything I had been looking for, but it was wrong. I couldn’t give in to this.

"Please... Stop..." I pleaded pathetically.

"Mmm, I don't think I will."  

He softly rubbed my folds through the white cotton. My breath got heavier and I felt the heath build.

"It would be so easy for me to push these little things out of the way and slide my fingers inside you, right now. Wouldn't it?"

"Please... Don't..."

He giggled darkly.

"Oh, princess. You're just too cute."  

He smiled as he moved the material to the side exposing my entrance. He slid his fingers up and down my slit, my juices covering the tips. I squirmed at his touch and tried to scooch back in my seat.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, doll, but you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't really want me inside you." He cooed. His words crashed into me like rocks. He could read my body just as well as my diary. I couldn't hide my desire from him and I didn’t want too.  

He continued to rub for a few more seconds before plunging a finger deep inside me. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion and he smirked, seemingly satisfied with my response. He worked me with his finger, pulling out before sliding it back in and deciding to add another. He slowly pulsed his fingers inside me, palming over my clit as he slid in and out, again and again. The swell of warmth in me grew as I rocked my hips.

He pulled his fingers out entirely, leaving me disappointed and empty. I looked at him as he examined the juices coating him. He smiled at me and raised them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Mmm. You're so sweet." He said as he lowered them, his voice now deeper and slightly raspy.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, then did mine. He pushed the bag off my lap down to where my feet were and reached his arm around my waist, pulling me backwards, closer to him. He leaned me against him as one hand travelled up from my waist and wrapped around my throat. His other came down, pulled up my skirt and parted my thighs. He pushed my panties to the side once again and introduced his other hand to my wetness. His two fingers sliding in and out, but this time a little faster and much deeper. I let a yelp escape my mouth and his hand squeezed harder around my throat. His hot breath in the crook of my neck gave me goosebumps and sent chills down my spine.  

He explored my walls entirely, hitting all the right spots, hot pleasure pulsing through my muscles as they clenched around his talented digits. He palmed my clit applying a gentle amount of pressure and rubbing in circles. I bit my lip in an attempt muffle my moans.

"Nuh uh. Let me hear you, baby girl." He taunted in my ear.

Two fingers from the hand around my throat pulled my mouth open and played with my tongue.  

"You got something to say, princess?" He pushed his fingers deeper into me until his knuckles stopped him from going any further and pumped them, his thumb circling my clit in sweet slow motions. A loud moan escaped my throat and he smiled evilly.

"That's better." He snarled as he put his full hand back around my throat.  

My legs started to stiffen and I felt my climax build as I tightened around his fingers.

"You wanna cum, baby?"  

He worked his fingers inside my walls and his thumb on my clit, slightly increasing the pressure. His breath came closer to my ear and I felt him take it gently in his teeth. I yelped at the shock of his bite.  

"Mm. So cute."

I rocked my hips against his hand. My release was close, it just needed a little push.

"Cum for me, princess. Cum on my fingers."

As if on his command, the dam burst and my climax washed over me. My legs shook and I moaned as I rode it out. He pulled his fingers out of me slid them in my mouth so I could taste my own juices.

“See, gorgeous. I can play nice.” He buried his face in my hair and took in my scent. He hummed to himself and I felt his grip on my throat tighten. He pulled me forwards and pushed me towards the back seat.

“My turn.” He grinned as he sat up.

I climbed into the back, closely followed by Jerome. I sat down and he straddled me, towering over me with his red hair brushing against the car ceiling. I saw the outline of his hard member pushing against the inside of his trousers. It was right in front of my face and my mouth watered for it. I suppose he caught me looking because he started to palm himself and lifted my chin up so I was looking at him.

“Do you have something sweet for me?” He leaned down closer to me, his grip on my face tightening.

I swallowed and felt the lump in my throat. He crashed his lips onto mine. The kiss was hard and forceful, just like he was. His tongue pushed into my mouth and fought for dominance over mine. It was an easy win for him. He tasted sweet, like the Jolly Ranchers. I assumed that wasn’t the first candy he’d eaten that day. He pulled away from me and smiled, studying my face with hooded eyes.

“Yummy.” He whispered.  

He rose back up and unbuckled his belt. He pulled it from out of its loops, held it in front of him and snapped it quickly. I flinched at the loud sound of the leather.

“Hands.” He ordered in a serious, intimidating tone that aroused me all the more.

I held my hands up to him and he looped the belt in and around my wrists, tightly bonding them together.

“No hands for this. I wanna see how that pretty little mouth works.” He smirked lifting my chin again, tugging my bottom lip with his thumb.

He palmed himself a little more and then unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, letting them fall around his knees. I could see through his boxers that he was fully erect already. He slid them down and they joined his trousers. Jerome was big. I was worried I wasn’t going to be able to take it all, especially without the use of my hands. He balled my hair in his hand and gripped hard. I gasped at the sudden pain.

“Come on, princess. You know what to do.” He pulled me forwards and plunged into my open mouth. He let out a hiss of pleasure.

He raked his free hand through my loose hair before clenching it in his fist. He used his grip on my head to move me up and down his shaft, prompting me to start. I swirled my tongue around him and started sucking. He hissed again through gritted teeth and pushed in further. My tongue climbed up and down his shaft, licking the sticky coating of precum from him and teasing the head. I hollowed my cheeks and bobbed up and down, letting my saliva cover him.

“Oh, yeah... Fuck, pretty girl.” He groaned in his throat and bucked his hips forwards with force.

He hit the back of my throat and I gagged. The noise seemed to please him so he did it again and again and again. My lips touched his base as he assaulted my throat, gripping tighter on my hair with each thrust. I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face and eyes begging for breath, but it just pushed him further.

He let out a primal growl and pushed my head right into the back of the seat. He held me steady and started to thrust into my face fast and hard. My throat was aching and my jaw was locking. His breath was shallow and erratic. I could tell he was close. I sucked harder for him and my throat clenched tightly.  

“Fuuuuck...” He groaned finally coming to a stop.  

I felt him throb and twitch in my mouth as his climax shot straight down my throat for me to swallow. He was still for a few seconds, then he pulled out with a pleasing pop. He looked down at me catching his breath with a smile.

“Don’t have to tell you twice, huh?” He laughed and lowered his head to kiss me.

He didn’t seem to care he’d just cum in my mouth and kissed just as rough as the first time. This time biting my lip as he pulled away. He slid his hand back up into my hair and balled it again.

“As great as that was princess, I’m still harder than Chinese algebra. So...” Jerome climbed off my lap and shoved me down onto my front.

“All fours.” He commanded.

I positioned myself on my knees and elbows, which was difficult considering my wrists were tied. I felt him roll my skirt up and part my legs. I swallowed. After having him go so rough on my mouth, I was nervous about how he was going to be with this.

“I gotta say, this is some view back here. Shame I don’t have a camera.” He said caressing my thighs.

He hooked his fingers under the band of my underwear and slid them down around my knees. I felt so exposed and my face started to heat up and turn red with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to be this vulnerable for a criminal lunatic.

He started to rub my entrance with two fingers. Warmth welling in my core, any thoughts of reservation vanished from my mind. I felt a fast, harsh sting as he brought a hand down to spank me. I gasped at the smack and he stroked the spot where it landed, where there was sure to be a red handprint.  

“Now I really wish I had a camera.” He giggled darkly.  

I squirmed at his touch and tried to close my thighs, desperate for friction, but he kept them spread by sliding his knee between them.

“Oh no, gorgeous. I need you open wide.” He smirked.

I whimpered needily, wanting nothing more than to take him inside me.

“You want something, baby girl? Speak up.” He taunted evilly, sliding his fingers along my slit. He raised his hand back up and then... another spank.

All I could do was whimper. I didn’t want to say what I wanted from him.

“I can’t hear you....” He sing-songed. “What do you want?”  

He circled a finger over my clit teasingly. He was purposefully not giving me enough. Just baiting me. He brought his hand down again for another swift spank. I was sure there was a bruise forming.

“I want you...” I whispered.

“What’s that?” He mocked, sliding his fingers in the slickness of my entrance.

“I want you! I want you to fuck me!” I snapped. I couldn’t take the teasing and taunting any longer. I just needed him.

He chuckled menacingly.

“You want me to fuck you? You wanna take me?”

“Yes! Yes! God, yes!”

He laughed at my neediness. I felt pathetic.

“Sure thing, doll.”

He lined himself up so he could enter me and pushed forwards, grasping hard onto my hips. I moaned loudly as he filled me for the first time, making a low, throaty groan. He reached deep into me and set me on fire in places that I didn't even know were there.  

He kept a quick rough pace, digging his fingertips into my flesh tighter to keep me still and steady. I knew he was leaving marks, but I couldn’t have cared in the slightest in that moment. His thrusts made me whine and whimper for him, to have more of him. He growled like he was letting out some kind of inner beast.

He let go of one of my hips and slid his hand up my back and into my hair. Once he had a good fistful, he pulled it like a leash, tugging my head up and back. I gasped at the sharp pain, but the sound only seemed to feed more into his sadistic wanting and he pounded harder into me. The feel of how deep he was inside me banished all the pain and replaced it with pure pleasure and I bit down hard on my lip to stifle wanton cries. I felt another rough tug on my hair.

“Don’t you dare, little girl. Let me hear it. I wanna hear everything.” He demanded through short, quick breaths.

He pulled back on my hair again and I released a squeal of half pain and half pure elation. I could feel myself tightening around him. I was getting ready to burst.

“I... I’m...I’m gonna...” I panted.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t.”  

He gripped the back of my scalp and pulled me backwards, slamming me down onto my back and climbing on top of me.

“I wanna see it this time.”

He had acted so fast, I barely had time to register what he was doing and he was back inside me almost as soon as he had pulled out.

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, sucking and kissing, his teeth leaving delicious hickeys and bitemarks. When he came back up for breath, he wrapped his hand around my throat and pushed my bonded arms above my head, which I was grateful for as they were getting squashed between us. He crashed his lips onto mine for a rough kiss. His tongue demanded entrance to my mouth, which I gladly allowed.

With his other hand he caressed and stroked his hand down my thigh and under my calf. He then pulled it up and pushed it back so far it almost reached my shoulder. He adjusted himself to straddle my lower thigh and picked up a faster, harder pace. With my leg like this he was able to plunge deeper. He was forceful and powerful and I relished in every thrust. I cried out completely taken by my lust for him, closing my eyes to savour it all. I felt the sting of a slap on my cheek and flashed them back open.

“Right here, princess. Eyes right here.” He said, his voice low and raspy.  

His pupils were completely dilated, leaving only the thinnest ring of green around them. He seemed to be an apex predator that was in the midst of ravaging its prey and I was only too willing to be led to the slaughter.  

“Exciting enough for ya, sweetheart?” He smirked with a fiendish giggle.

“Uh huh...” I nodded dazedly.  

His laugh continued through the onslaught of fierce, deep thrusts pounding intensely into my lower regions. I tensed around his pulsing erection as I felt my climax creep back up on me. I let out loud erotic moans, as he built up more and more of that blissful warmth in my core.

“That’s right. Cum for me.” He grunted through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on my throat.

His pounding got faster and rougher, hitting my sweet spots exactly right. I was right on the edge of what I could tell was going to be a fantastic release. I got louder and louder as I came closer and teetered the brink.

“Yeah.. I... I’m.. Yeah... I’m gonna...”

“Go on, princess. Cum. Cum for me.”  

My orgasm shattered through me like a rock through glass. My body convulsed as my moans turned into lustful screams. The ferocity of it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The sheer ecstasy took me higher than I’d ever been before. I was on a cloud and I could have stayed there forever. Jerome followed shortly after, growling like a beast as he exploded inside me. He collapsed breathlessly on top of me as I gently floated down from that little piece of heaven.  

“Oh, baby girl. I’m keeping you!” Jerome dropped a kiss on my lips and lifted himself up.  

I came to my senses and started to register the severity of what I had done. Or had it happened to me?  

“What does that mean?” I asked, nervous of his answer.  

He pulled up his underwear and trousers and tidied himself up, even taking time to straighten his tie.

“It means, baby doll, that this is gonna be the start of a beautiful friendship.”  

He laughed his signature maniacal cackle and hopped back in the driver's seat.

“Hey! Are you gonna untie me?” I called to him starting to get very worried.

“I don’t know, doll. I kinda like you like that.” He laughed.

He turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.  

“Hold on, doll!” He cackled again, before speeding off again.

What have I gotten myself into?

[dameronology]

the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

[miekasa]

the babysitter’s club (1)

+ pairing: levi ackerman + (fem) reader, featuring bright-eyed but very easily intimidated interns and part-time babysitters eren and armin who are trying their best

+ genres and warnings: modern au, parents au, fluff, yes the dog’s name is captain and he’s tiny what about it

+ summary: eren and armin are good subordinates, who happen to be pretty good babysitter, too. usually. 

+ word count: 2.7k

+ notes: this was just something fun i edited and reworked again, also to provide some more insight about dad levi and my oc kids; this focuses only on holden, who is the oldest of the bunch, but you’ll more about the rest as they go

It’s not that Levi doesn’t trust Holden’s babysitters, he just would rather watch over her himself. Moreover, he would rather have the time to spend with his small daughter instead of having to leave her in the care of someone else who isn’t you, but sometimes life gets busy, and babysitters come in real handy.

He still doesn’t understand why Erwin would schedule the both of you to attend such important work-related meetings on the same weekend; much less, to send you half-way around the world for yours, and then book Levi for damn near twelve hours on a Saturday. He would murder Erwin if he weren’t his direct boss, and a long-time friend. But shit happens, and while it’s a major inconvenience and pain in his ass to be working on a weekend, it’s good to know he could rely on the brats at the office to step up on such short notice.

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that if anything happens, I won’t hesitate to dismember you,” Levi says calmly, closing his briefcase after triple-checking its contents.

“Of course,” Armin stiffens visibly, awkward laughter seeping through his words, “Eren and I would never let anything happen to Holden.”

To his left, Holden has already tugged Eren to the coffee table for a game of children’s Scrabble, determined to show off her new skills. Levi smiles slightly as he remembers playing the game with her last week, and how awe-struck she was to have seen Levi create a word bigger than “unattainable”—which is currently the longest word in her four-year-old vocabulary. But he’s certain she would have no trouble beating Eren.

He gives Armin a slight nod. He knows Holden is in good hands; or good enough hands with Armin, anyway. It’s not the first time the duo has babysat, and for as air-headed and clumsy Eren could be at the office, he seemed to be pretty damn good with kids if Holden’s attachment to the brunette was anything to go by.

Levi recounts that you’ve questioned on multiple occasions why Eren was so dedicated to being your PA when he seemed to have a potential career in taking care of, and maybe even teaching children. Not that he’s not a good assistant to you, but he’s certainly not as organized or detailed-oriented as Armin. Levi shrugs away the thought. Eren’s career choices are none of his business; his only concern is that he keeps his daughter safe and sound.

“Right. My card is on the kitchen island, you can buy lunch and dinner or whatever, I don’t think there’s much in the fridge,” Levi informs Armin. He looks briefly to the clock on the wall; he really should get going. “Remember to walk Captain at some point, and no matter what Holden says, he absolutely does need a leash on him. If Erwin isn’t being a complete asshat, I’ll be home by nine. (Y/N) will probably still be on her flight, so call me if you need anything.”

Armin nods enthusiastically, promising Levi that they would take care of everything. They’d better.

“Alright, I’m heading out,” Levi announces, pulling his keys from the table near the door, “Be good, Holden. Tell Armin and Eren if you need anything.”

Holden’s head perks up at the sound of her name. Elegantly, or as elegantly as a four-year-old can be, she stands from her seated crisscross position, to run over to Levi by the door. He should remind her that she should use walking feet inside the house, but he can’t bring himself to, instead crouching down to meet her height.

“Bye, daddy,” she tells him sweetly. Levi reaches a hand out to ruffle the top of her head, much to the small girl’s chagrin. She sports a grimace almost identical to his as he reaches up to try and smooth out the aftermath of her father’s affections, “Daddy!”

Levi can’t help but chuckle, reaching two fingers out to poke at his daughter’s forehead. “Be good. I’ll be back soon.”

“Mommy too?”

Levi sighs, “No, mommy doesn’t come back until Tuesday.”

“That’s four days away,” Holden’s doesn’t hesitate to express her dissatisfaction. Levi nods, a little proud of how quickly she’d calculated that in her head, “Can Eren stay until Tuesday?”

“No, Eren cannot.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Holden crinkles her nose. Levi really has got to do something about her fascination with Eren.

Holden looks backwards to where Eren is still seated around the coffee table, he and Armin watching the father-daughter duo. After reconciling with the fact that Eren does, in fact, have his own home to go back to at the end of the day, Holden turns back around, and holds her hand up, palm facing Levi. He does the same, bringing his larger palm to hers, so that her hand is pushed against the middle of his.

Not one for hugs, kisses, or larger displays of affection, Holden simply turns her palm so that her hand grabs around Levi’s as best as possible, hooking her thumb around his pinky finger—what Levi’s heard the young girl call a hand hug.

“Bye, daddy,” she repeats, squeezing his hand, “Come back soon.”

Levi bends his fingers to wrap around her hand, “I will.”

“Keep an eye on her,” Levi reminds Armin and Eren, after standing back up and gripping his briefcase in his hand, “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Holden never causes trouble,” Eren says in response, but his words are spoken in coos to the young girl, who’s already back at his side. 

Levi scoffs, “I was talking to you.” 

“We’ll be fine, boss, don’t worry,” Eren chuckles with an awkward blush, “We love looking after Holden.”

“I’m not your boss,” Levi deadpans, double-checking his pockets for his keys, “You’d better hope everything is fine. Call me if anything happens, I’ll be back soon.” 

With one final round of good-byes, and a wave from his daughter, Levi’s out the door, and stepping into his car with a grimace. It was just one stupid day out of his life. Besides, Holden would be fine with Armin and Eren; she always is. Levi is just grumpy that he can’t be the one to spend the day with her. 

He sighs, reluctantly, putting his keys in the ignition. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could come back to Holden. Everything would be fine in the meantime; for now, he had to focus on how he was going to get himself to sit through Erwin’s long-ass meeting. 

“Levi! Hi! Um… okay, so don’t freak out, but Armin and I are at the hospital with Holden right now—don’t freak out—because there was a small incident at lunch—don’t freak out and fire me please—but! It’s all gonna be okay, they’re already treating her and she’s doing fine now, so don’t freak—”  

“Tell me not to freak out one more fucking time and I’ll castrate Armin and feed you his balls myself.”

“You sound a little freaked out,” Eren placates, wincing and holding his phone away from his ear when Levi growls in response.

“You have five seconds to tell me what you two idiots did to my daughter and explain why I shouldn’t decapitate you immediately.”

“It’s a funny story, actually—so, um, we think Holden might be allergic to nuts…?”

“What do you mean might be, Jaeger?”

Eren can feel his heart in his throat. He eyes Armin on the other side of Holden’s hospital bed. He looks no better—color almost completely drained from his face, but Eren doesn’t think he can say much else to his boss before his knees give out from underneath him.

“Uh, well, it was a lot of technical terms, and—I—um, actually I’m going to let Armin explain!” Eren hurries, all but chucking his phone at the unsuspecting blonde.

Armin’s blue eyes look almost grey with anxiety, but before he can protest, Eren is flailing his hands and pointing fingers and reminding him that Levi will kill them both if he doesn’t start talking.

Reluctant, and terrified, Armin finally lifts the phone to his ear, stuttering out a pathetic hello, but Levi cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“Save it. Send me your location, and pray I don’t kill you when I get there.” Armin chokes out a “yes, sir,” before slowly bringing the phone down to his side.

The good news is that Holden’s allergic reaction wasn’t too severe: her throat had been irritated, and hives had emerged as a result, but it hadn’t been closing up. And luckily, Eren had the endurance to run nearly a mile and half with a four year old tucked under his arm; because with the traffic Armin observed whilst he and Captain huffed and lagged behind, it would have taken thrice as long to get Holden to the ER had they waited and called for an ambulance.

Even better was that Holden was an unnervingly calm kid, even whilst having an allergic reaction. She looked almost back to normal now, save for a few red looking blotches on her neck and upper arm; and seemed more than content to be watching a video on Eren’s phone, despite the situation. She was a little bummed out to find out that she could never eat the new ice cream she liked so much ever again, but she seemed to quickly get over it once Eren reminded her that there were lots of other flavors out there for her to try. Flavors that wouldn’t make her choke to death.

Still, Eren and Armin could probably kiss their jobs goodbye, seeing as they had nearly just poisoned their bosses’ daughter. Holden seemed to like them enough, but, unfortunately, Holden wasn’t the Ackerman who signed their checks.

At the very least, Eren doesn’t think you’ll be too upset with him. He doesn’t think you’ll be ecstatic to hear that while you were away on your already inconvenient work-trip on the other side of the globe, that he also managed to land your daughter in a hospital bed… but you were the more forgiving one. Then again, maybe not so forgiving when it comes to the health and wellbeing of your daughter. 

Eren falls back against the wall in dread. You weren’t even in the same country as him and he was worried about what you might say or do to him. Levi was probably less than twenty minutes away and fully capable of beheading him.

“You… uh, you think the Interior Branch is still looking for interns?” Eren breaks the silence, looking towards Armin, who’s taken the seat next to Holden’s bed, petting Captain robotically as the dog sits in his lap.

“I don’t think it matters,” Armin responds, “They won’t hire corpses.”

Fifteen minutes, and several run red lights later, Levi is bursting through the doors to the pediatric wing of the emergency room. He doesn’t care about the old woman at the reception yelling at him for causing a ruckus, or the other parents, doctors, or visitors eyeing him for marching around like he owned the place. Holden was in there somewhere, and he was going to get to her.

“Holden—oh, god, Holden,” Levi coos, frantic, as he marches into Holden’s room, scurrying to the side of her hospital bed. A cold hand reaches up to stroke her face. Angry, red bumps litter the sides of neck, her cheeks are puffier than usual, and the perimeter of her mouth seems a bit irritated, but Levi is relieved. She’s okay, his baby girl is okay.

“’M fine, daddy,” Holden assures him. She’s almost overly-perceptive for her age, able to pick up on her father’s out of character antics, and does her best to console him. “Eren ran with me all the way here when I started coughing and itchin.’”

Levi nods, the dark grey splotches in Holden’s eyes bringing him comfort, ensuring him that she was okay. “They gave me a shot, and I don’t like needles, but I didn’t even cry at all. Ask, Armin and Eren, they saw! Captain, too.”

“Brave girl,” Levi smiles, reaching his hand up to push her hair out of her face then leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.

Levi had almost forgotten that Eren and Armin were in the room until he hears a blundering cough from behind him. The younger boys look petrified, Eren practically shaking in his shoes, while Armin doesn’t even have the confidence to look him in the eye.

“We’re really sorry, Levi,” Eren apologizes, voice scratchy and wobbly, like he’d been the one to just get a shot, “We didn’t know—and when she started coughing and saying she couldn’t breathe, I swear, I ran here as fast as I could—”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s… fine?”

Levi sighs. Maybe he’d been a little harsh with them on the phone, letting his emotions get the best of him. He’d already been pissed off enough to not have the time to spend with Holden this weekend; hearing that she’d been hurt was just the final push over the edge for him, but it wasn’t necessarily Armin or Eren’s fault.

“I didn’t know either,” Levi exhales, reaching at hand out to pet the top of Holden’s head again, the young girl now distracted once again by the phone in her hand, “She’s never had a reaction to anything before, and neither (Y/N) or I have any strong allergies.”

Armin shuffles where he’s standing. “The doctor said she might be allergic to tree nuts. We, uh, we gave her pistachio ice cream after lunch.”

If there’s anything concerning Levi, it’s that they gave Holden ice cream before dinner, but he supposes he can let it go for now.

“Eren told me to try it, and it tasted good, daddy,” Holden interjects, “Before I started coughing, it was good.”

“Ah, well, you can’t—you shouldn’t eat things that make you feel sick!” Eren stutters loudly.

“But it was good,” Holden pouts, “And you said to try new things, Eri. I won’t know if it makes me sick if I don’t try them.”

Levi holds back his laughter. He knows that Holden definitely wouldn’t want to try the same same flavor again knowing now that she was allergic to it; she was just pulling at Eren’s leg. Levi would have to keep an eye out for the stuff anyway, especially if her oh-so-precious Eren has expressed any former love for it. 

“Um, Levi, sir,” Armin calls, pulling Levi’s attention towards the blonde, “We didn’t know if (Y/N) would have landed already, but do you think you should call her, to, um, let her know?”

Levi’s face pales three shades when he realizes that none of them had already informed you that your daughter was currently hospitalized with a new found allergy.

“You can call her,” Levi says, a shudder in his spine at the thought of relaying this information to you, “That’s your death sentence, not mine.”

[slowpoke-fics]

Appreciated

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: softish!dom!Steve x Reader, former Natasha x Steve, former Thor x Reader

Summary: The team make a bet that you have to settle, sending Steve into a sexual frenzy.

Warnings: alcohol, sexual themes, pet names, Dom!Steve, slapping, rough sex, soft sex, overstimulation, pleasure Dom, use of traffic light safe words, fluff, smut, choking, crying but in an I love you way, still crying kink, subspace, little bit o’ cockwarming, I know I've missed some, so please read at your own risk 18+

A/N: I really enjoyed the lovey dovey vibes I got from this, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it; 4.1k words

You’re surrounded by the team in the common room, all of you with a glass of Asgardian liquor in your hand. It’s a rare time that you all get to sit around and relax, just talk to each other like people. You’re all laughing because somehow you’ve gotten to Thor vs Steve, who was more worthy. Everyone is a little intoxicated, none more so than Sam, who is leaning against Bucky, poking the bear. “I would lay a hundred down to say Thor’s got it hung,” Sam hiccups, “I mean, the man radiates big dick energy.”

Natasha laughs, hiding her face under Clint’s arm for a moment before joining Sam, “You’re wrong big bird,” clicking her tongue at Steve, “our super soldier is swinging, uncomfortably so.” Thor shakes his head, glancing at you, then quickly noting you’re hiding behind Steve, sure of where this was going. Tony hisses at the conversation, “I’m offended I’m not even in the race.” That causes Bucky to break out into laughter, shaking his head, “Stark, you aren’t even on the leaderboard.” The group erupts into laughter, Tony shaking his head when Pepper whispers something in his ear, a blush rising to his cheeks as his shifts in his seat.

You smirk at Tony, but you are no longer able to ignore the bickering between Sam and Natasha. “I’ve had personal experience, you ever seen Thor, Sam?” Sam rolls his eyes, grinning with teeth, “The man���s massive, Nat, his weapon is a hammer, you ever understand innuendos?” Wanda and Peter can’t control their laughter anymore, and Steve’s hand grips your thigh roughly when you nip at his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell them?” Steve whispers in your ear, nipping just under your neck. You shake your head and blush moving your head away from him. He rubs your thigh gently turning back to the conversation. He wasn’t going to push, of course he wasn’t, he loves you and wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.

The rest of them though? Too drunk to care.

Wanda is the first one to speak up, after her heavy laughter stops, “Y/n,” your head is snapping up to hers, “you have personal experience with both of them, why don’t you enlighten us?” You laugh and shake your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying.

Thor hums in appreciation, reminiscing on the days when you two were bed buddies, “Ah yes, little lamb, why don’t you tell them how good I am?” You gasp, the outright disrespect Thor throws at Steve to call you a name reserved for only when you were under him and the insinuation that he knew how to please you better than Steve made your blood boil at his cockiness. The alcohol poisoning your liver made you laugh at the situation though, because nobody is ever going to compare to Steve. Unable to catch your breath for a minute, Nat and Sam boast out, “Oh yes, enlighten us on the most worthy member,” and “Y/n/n, Thor’s a god, I know you’re with Steve now, but be honest.”

You snap your head at Sam, squinting your eyes, a challenge. You turn to Natasha with an apologetic look, causing the circle to break out in little giggles, ooo’s and ahh’s. Steve’s smirking because he knows you, studies you in his spare time, knows this joke. “Oh, Nat, I’m sorry,” the group breaks out into laughter and you raise your voice with a 180, now dripping with pride instead of regret, “for the two hundred bucks Sam just lost!” Steve grips your thigh again as you rub your fingers together towards Sam, “Pay up, because my Stevie,” you learn forward as the circle drops to a pen drop silence, “he’s a god himself.”

The entire group hoops and hollers, Thor shaking his head with a sip on his drink, hoping you were just talking up your man for brownie points. Nat raises her arms and let’s put a happy scream, “Oh, suck on that, big bird!” Sam’s gaping at you, he huffs and pulls out his wallet, slamming a hundred in your hand then Nat’s outstretched one. You laugh, slamming back onto Steve, pressing your lips into his. He twists his hand to the side of your face, pressing you into him. Tony groans and kicks Steve’s leg, “Put it on ice, Capsicle.” Before you could back away from Steve, he growls in your ear, “Good girl.”

Steve’s throbbing, you can see it. See how hard he is through his pants, see his cock twitching. You know that when you get to your bedroom, you’re going to get exactly what you want. He’s so distracted by you, by the way you openly claimed him in front of everyone. You were his good girl, and he couldn’t wait to show you. So once Tony and Pepper announce their goodbyes, you and Steve are quick to follow, dismissing yourselves and stumbling off to the elevator.

You’re giggling and leaning on Steve, as soon as you’re out of eye line of the other members, he picks you up over his shoulder. You let out a small yelp and shake a little, “Stevie, let me go!” He laughs and playfully slaps your ass, “No, dove,” he whispers, “not in a million years.”

When you step onto the elevator, he unclips your left shoe, “You know what you do to me?” He slides it off, holding it by a strap on his pinky, “Blind me with your energy,” he unclips the right shoe as the elevator opens, “take my breath away with your touch,” he slides the shoe off to hang it next to it’s match. You’re rubbing his back with one hand, your other peaking through his waistband on his hip. You’re intoxicated by his praise more than you could ever be by alcohol.

He’s carrying you down the hall towards your room, curling the hand that’s holding your shoes around your ass, holding you and your dress in place. "Bring me back from the edge," his free hand grabs the zipper on the back of your dress and pulls roughly, opening your dress in one tug. He quickly opens the door to your bedroom and drops you to the bed after dropping the shoes.

You bounce when you hit the bed causing you to laugh, your head tilted back. Steve’s committing every movement you make to memory, his heart fluttering when your chest bounces with your giggles. He knocks the door shut with a kick as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing it to the floor. He crawls over your middle, smiling gently at you. "Gonna thank you for everything you do," his fingertips tickle your arms as he slides the straps off of you, you pull your arms through reaching up to trace his muscles. He lifts you easily and tosses you, your head landing gently on the pillows at the headboard.

He tosses your empty dress to the floor, unbuckling his belt with a heated glare toward your naked body, “My my, you are really something.” He rips the belt off, snapping it through the air, your eyes light up with a dare. “Gonna cherish you,” he crawls towards you, grabbing your wrists and putting them against the wooden poles. “You say I am a god,” he wraps your hands up, “then you honey,” he tugs on your secured wrist and slides down your body, “are my goddess.” He pulls your legs down, extending your arms and restricting your movement.

You moan at the roughness of his love, his praise soaking your thighs. His eyes are staring you down, he’s continuing to slither down the bed. He’s kissing and nibbling on your nipples. Your wrists pull hard when you arch and his hard gaze breaks, “Too tight?” You shake your head, but he slaps the outside of your thigh, “You know better dove.” You stretch out your legs, exposing your soaking cunt to him, “No, sir, it’s not too tight, please.” Steve traces the inside of your thigh, “Don’t worry dovey,” he clicks at you, “tonight’s all about you,” he presses his hands on your thighs, pushing you apart, “I know how good you are,” he slides his tongue on your wet thigh, “just wanna make sure you do.”

He hums as his tongue licks up your folds, collecting some of the juices, “You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever known.” You moan out, bucking your hips towards him, “Captain please, need you to make me feel good.” Steve wastes no time giving you want you want. He slides two fingers into you, drawing a pained gasp from you that quickly turns into a moan. “Oh, baby,” Steve sucks on your clit, licking tight circles before drawing back a little, your hands tugging the best they could, “who’s all this for?”

You’re heaving, Steve’s fingers curling inside of your willing hole, his lips are back on you. When you don’t give him an answer, he stops toying with your clit, causing the heat in you to die down, a whine erupting from you. He licks up your folds, his fingers never slowing, “Tell me, who’s it for.” You spread your fingers out, trying to twist your body but slid another finer in you roughly. You let out a pornographic moan, clenching on his fingers, “You, you Steve, you,” his hand slides back down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles, “always you, love of my life, always my Stevie.” Steve growls, “Cum, now.”

The coil in you snaps, your back arching off the bed as your pussy flutters around his relentless fingers. He removes his hand from your clit, pulling his pants and underwear down roughly, sliding them off and out of the way. You’re coming down from your high when he’s on top of you, fingers pumping hard and fast again. You’re on fire, eyes roaming his body and your arms twitch at the need to touch him.

You’re whining trying to back up, but his thrusts become temporarily rough, shooting pleasurable pain through you, “Don’t run, be a good girl.” You let a choked sob out, your cunt clenching tightly on his fingers. He knows you’re close, your legs tight, and shaking, your whines higher, “You’re beautiful cunt’s desperate isn’t it love?” You tighten at his words, so close to tipping over the edge. When you don’t answer he slows down, causing your eyes to snap open, he pulls your legs up to your chest, “Yes, yes, desperate for you, I’ll do anything, I promise, please!”

Steve removes his fingers from you roughly, grabbing your thighs, pushing them apart to display your cunt and slams himself into you. He’s buried balls deep, twitching against your cunt. He lets you rest a moment as he readjusts, one arm holding both your legs in place, his free right hand finding your clit, “You’re gonna cum like this.” He slams back into you, and as if commanded, you fall apart on him. You let out a silent scream, clenching his cock as hard as you can, your eyes rolling back in the back of your head, clit throbbing as he continues to rub circles.

“Your pussy is suffocating my cock baby,” he leans down to kiss you, swallowing your whines at the painful stretch in the back of your thighs. “Good girl, such a good girl,” your back arches toward him, coming down from your high, thankful that his ministrations on your clit have slowed, “You lost with my cock pounding into you? Are you with me sweet girl?”

You can’t answer, can’t hardly breathe, because he’s started pumping in and out of you with more of his weight pressing into you, taking your breath with almost every thrust. Your eyes are closed, your mouth barely open and it’s clear you’re unable to answer. Steve reaches his hand up, taking it off your clit, and smacks your face, gently but hard enough to snap you back to him. He squeezes your chin, roughly moving your face to the left and then right. “Color?” You take a deep breath, causing him to slowly stop ramming into you. He slides his thumb into your mouth, keeping eye contact with you. Your tongue licks up his thumb, your lips closing around it. He instantly softens, his dominating features fading away, “Come on, tell your Stevie how you’re doin’, what’s your color dovey?”

You release his thumb, smiling at him, “‘S green, Stevie, I jus’ needed a breather.” Steve pouts at you, grabbing your chin and shaking your head with a disappointed look, “Nuh uh. Say it right, pet.” You flutter around his cock, causing him to pulse inside you and let out a deep groan. “Green, sir, please, need your cock, fills me up so good,” you’re begging, arching your back off the bed. He straightens, hands on the back of your thighs bracing himself. He pulls out and rams into you at a brutal pace, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

You moan out, trying to twist away from him, but you can’t hardly move, stuck in his grasp, his huge cock filling you again and again. He knows you’re close, slapping your thigh a couple times, heavy smacks resonating through the room before he reminds you, “Look at me.” You follow his command, your eyes snapping to his. “You’re going to cum again,” he slaps your thigh, “quit trying to run away bunny.” You can’t control yourself, you gush all over his cock when his hand hits your thigh, flutter around him and moaning out, “Thank you sir, never felt so good, thank you.” Steve doesn’t slow down, he grips your thighs roughly and seems like he’s going harder, deeper.

“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel as good as I do,” you whine loudly at his words, tears leaving the corners of your eyes. He grunts and you feel his rhythm stutter, “God yeah, made for me, isn’t anything better than you in my life,” his hand comes to your clit as he turns your body, bringing your leg over his shoulder. You’re overwhelmed by his love, even though he’s fucking you stupid, you can feel that he’s genuine in his words. This man loves you.

“God Stevie, I’m ruined, consumed by you, don’t want anyone else,” you tug on your restraints again, glancing up with tears in your eyes. He brings his other hand up to your face, letting your leg fall free, “Give me one more baby,” he ruts inside you, heat burning at your core, feeling you clench around him makes him let out a deep moan. He moves his hand to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and pulling roughly on it. You let out a pained moan, Steve slapping your breast, “Yeah that’s it sweetheart. Gonna be my perfect little girl and take everything I give you.”

You can feel your heartbeat in your pussy, he’s pounding into you but you’re so fucked out and wet it’s easy for him to abuse your cunt. He’s addicted to the way your pussy sucks him back in, his resolve almost breaking and spilling into you. “I’ll take whatever my Captain is willing to give me,” you’re barely able to think about anything else, eyes open just barely enough to see Steve’s head roll back. He lets out a loud and shameless moan, he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing roughly. “Be a good girl, be a good girl, cum, cum right now.”

Your walls throb and he lets go of your throat. Your vision goes white when you take your breath and you’re cumming around him. He sucks in a harsh breath, barely able to move in and out of you because of how frantic you’ve become. “You make it so hard to control myself around you,” he pulls completely out and you watch his cock twitch in the air, red and sore, the thick vein throbbing hard. You whine, but he swallows it when he presses his lips to yours. Reaching his hands up and releasing you from the belt, he bites your bottom lip, “Can you take more baby? What’s your color?” Your pull your hands from his, wrapping them around his neck, “I can’t take anymore, Captain, I can’t.” Steve’s glare is dangerous, his voice controlled by his primal need for you, “I’m gonna give you more, until I’m satisfied or you tap out. What’s your color?” You let a stray tear fall, “Yellow, I need a minute, pretty please, Captain.”

Steve hums in agreement, pressing his lips against yours. He backs just an inch or so away and rests his forehead against yours. Steve guides your legs down and lays you on the bed gently. He’s giving himself as much a break as he is you, he’s not sure that if he slid into your cunt he wouldn’t cum right then and there.

“You know how good your doin’ for me?” His nose nudges yours, “Really made for me,” he kisses your nose, “love making you feel good, am I making you feel good?” You bring your lips to his, initiating the contact this time, “Yes Stevie, I feel so good, ‘s like you set me on fire.”

Your gaze is still far away, barely able to hold your head up. You’re almost cockdrunk, and he’s going to get you all the way there. “Look at me angel,” he’s kneeling in between your legs, watching your every breath. Your head lifts to his, meeting his sly grin. “There she is,” he slides his hands under your thighs gently, lifting your hips for a better angle. “You ready baby?”

Your legs are putty in his hand and he pushes into you slowly, your mouth gapes at the sensation, letting out a small plea, “Oh, Captain, more, more, more.” He speeds up, leaning forward and planting kisses on your neck, whispering against it as he digs his fingers into your hips, “That’s right,” he punctuates with a rough thrust, “good girls beg for more.” He’s lost himself, roughly jerking your hips into him, sucking possessive marks into your neck and collarbone. “Good girls let their Captain decide when they’ve had enough.” Your hands are scratching at his back, a silent please for him to keep going.

“You’re so good to me,” he bites your neck roughly, hips stuttering against yours, his mounds hitting yours just right. “Love me so good,” he’s kissing your jawline, he’s close to coming, and he’s not going to stop this time. He plants a heavy kiss on your lips, “You’re gonna be my wife one day,” your lips find his again, a tear rolling down your cheek, “the mother of my children.” Your hands pull on his hair gently, “Please, cum in me, wanna be a mommy, cum with me.” When you pull on his hair he spills inside of you, pushing you over the edge with him.

Steve sees a piece in you snap, your eyes glaze over, the breath taken from your body. You’re numb, all you can feel is the thump in your chest and the painful stretch of your back, pushed too far past its limit. He’s crushing you with kisses, his hands moving to your hair while he gently thrusts inside you, “Breathe,” his voice calls out to you, “breathe baby.” You take a deep breath in, closing your eyes and finding any part of his skin to touch. You feel so vulnerable, so small, so overwhelmed and overstimulated.

When your high ends, he flips you over so you’re straddling him. You jerk away from him when his softened cock slides back into you, but he just pulls you to his chest, rubbing your back gently. “Good girl, I am so proud of you dove.” Your lip wobbles, shoulders starting to shake. Steve coos at you, “Oh baby, let it out, it’s okay, I’m so proud.” At his words the tears fall freely and your hand clenches around his bicep. “Did that feel so good? Hm? Did your Captain do this to you?” You nuzzle into his neck, hiccuping sobs, Steve’s voice dripping with honey, “Oh my sweet girl,” he starts patting your back, “that’s okay. You can’t think can you? So hard to come back down from your Captain breaking you.” You only let out a silent sob, squeezing his cock with your cunt unintentionally.

“This is what you needed isn’t it? Needed me to make you feel good, needed me to break you and put the pieces back together?” Steve’s rock hard in you again, pressing against your g-spot and slowly rolling his hips. “What’s your color?” You sniffle, Steve waits patiently for you, he’s going to be soft, wants you to have one more. “C-can,” you take a deep breath, “can it be just like this? I love the way you love me.” Steve kisses you softly, his fingers running through your hair, “Of course baby, what’s your color?” You lay your head on his shoulder, “Green, please take care of me.” He finds your clit with his right hand, his left grabbing the back of your neck, clenching to announce his presence, “That’s all I want to do for the rest of my life.”

You let out more tears when he says that, your hands clutching at his waist tightly. Steve’s thumb rubs fast but gentle circles on your clit, your hips involuntarily shaking. “Stevie,” you beg, he kisses your jawline, letting out a questionable hum, “I love you so much, you make me feel so good,” he pushes his hips deeper into you, a sign that he agrees with you. You dig your nails into his sides, indentations would be visible to anyone able to see, cunt letting out another wave of cum around his cock. “I mean it Stevie, you make me feel special,” you clench your eyes when he gets rougher on your clit. “There is nobody on this planet that I will ever want more than you,” you lean up and kiss his lips to seal your words. “I can’t live without you,” you kiss him again, returning the praise he’s given you all night.

Steve can’t control himself, he’s going to cum again, your compliments are tightening his balls, almost bursting. “Would be lost,” you let a loud moan out and move your hands back to his hair, “would be lost forever without you.” Steve starts thrusting harder, barely increasing in speed, still feeling your pussy respond to his treatment. He growls before kissing you, biting at your lips and commanding, “Cum, you can do it, cum for your Stevie.” You do, your lips meeting his and grinding against one another. Your hips are spasming against his hand, desperate for your high to last as long as it can. You feel him shoot his cum inside you for the second time and you flex your walls to milk his cock, his breath heavy as he presses into you.

He rests you back against his chest, a featherlight touch on your back. Both of you are breathing heavy, and your tears are silently falling. You love him so much, words couldn’t describe it. The way he makes you feel absolutely ethereal, like you’re floating amongst the stars. You're lost amount them right now, drifting about. He knows this, it’s why he lets you sit on his cock for as long as you want. The closest you could possibly get to him, laying on his chest, his gentle touch bringing you back down to earth.

After about fifteen minutes, your tears stop. Your mouth is dry, voice hoarse when you speak out, “I love you so much.” Steve kisses your head, “You don’t know the half of it. You’re perfect, there isn’t a damn thing about you that I don’t love.” Heat flushes to your cheeks, hiding your face as best you can, “Even though I cry during sex?” Steve lets out an irritated scoff, “You know how hard it makes me when I make you cry? To know that I’ve made you feel so much that you’re crying? And you’re still begging for me to give you more?” You trace your fingers up Steve’s arm, smiling contently, “I wish you could understand what it’s like.” He pulls you off his cock slowly, lifting you as he suggests, “Maybe you can explain it while we take a bath and clean up?” Your head turns and you kiss his cheek, “Of course. If you’re actually interested.”

He bends with you, holding you tightly with one hand, and you realize you’ve already made it to the bathroom. “I want to know everything about you,” he steps into the tub, bringing both of you into the quickly rising water. “So tell me,” he turns your body so your back is laying on his chest in the oversized tub, “When you fall? Where do you go?”

[earlgreydream]

new york.

| draco malfoy x reader | fluff |

cw: a bit of soft smut, swearing

“Come on, Draco,” you grabbed his hand, pulling him through the streets of New York. His eyes were wide, and he marveled at everything.

Before dating you, Draco had stayed in the wizard world, barely leaving London. He kept within places of magic, and had never really seen muggle life.

Now, the two of you were eighteen, and you’d managed to free him from a summer at Malfoy Manor. He’d agreed to go to America with you for the summer, though he was extremely hesitant to spend a summer in the muggle world.

“New York IS magical!” You had insisted to Draco, and he gave in once he realized how happy it would make you. And secretly, he was curious to see where you had grown up.

Oh, and that you had braved your entire Christmas break at Malfoy Manor, under the scrutiny of Lucius, who was incredibly unfriendly and unwelcoming to his son’s mudblood girlfriend.

“We’re staying in my apartment. It’ll be just us, Draco. You don’t need to worry about impressing anyone,” you had promised your anxious boyfriend.

Now, Draco’s silver eyes couldn’t take in all of Times Square. He looked like a startled child, and you giggled at his wide eyes.

“This is crazy, Y/N, everything is all lit up-” Draco gaped at the signs. You walked slower, keeping in time with him as he took it all in. Your hand held onto his arm, keeping you together as you navigated the busy square. 

You looked up at the sky, dark clouds hanging heavy overhead. Thunder boomed in the distance, just over the sound of the street. 

“It’s going to rain. Time for an indoor activity,” you broke Draco from his trance, and the two of you made it to a small staircase outside of a building. Draco hesitated, and you dragged him down into the underbelly of the city, into a lounge you frequented whenever you were in the city. 

You were greeted by buzzing neon lights, printed carpet, and arcade machines. Everything was retro, looking like you’d stepped into the 80s. You ordered soda before pulling your boyfriend to an arcade game. He looked unsure, and you grinned at him, setting your things down. 

“What is this?” Draco asked, looking around curiously.

“This is an arcade. We play these games, I’ll show you.” You put a coin in the slot of the machine and showed Draco how to play Pac-Man.

“Want to try?” You asked, moving over to let him try after you finished demonstrating. He nodded, gingerly pressing the buttons. A frown knitted on his face as he struggled, not doing near as well as you.

“Can I try again?!”

“Sure, babe.” You slipped another coin in the slot, and he attempted a second time, still barely making any points.

“Draco, it’s just a game, relax,” you smoothed yourself hands down his arms as he tensed up with frustration. It was taking all of your strength not to laugh at him as he fought with the game.

“I can’t even win against a bloody muggle contraption-” Draco huffed and a couple teenagers turned their heads.

“It’s alright, they’re hard. Some take practice. Let’s try another one.” You sipped on your sprite, giving Draco a quick kiss to calm him down. He hummed softly and followed you to a different game. Thankfully, he was slightly better at the second one, and his bad mood faded with your encouragement.

You spent the entire afternoon there, eventually swapping arcade games to bowl in the alley at the back. You knew Draco was using magic, because he striked every time. You rolled your eyes as onlookers stared in awe, and he grinned at you with a wink.

“It’s not fun if you cheat.” You told him, and he kissed you.

“No, but I’ll play fair next round.” You let him, knowing he wanted to redeem himself of being embarrassingly shit at the games.

You had only dropped your bags at your apartment, but the two of you had been out since your flight landed this morning. You were starting to get tired, and you could sense Draco was too.

“I’m starving, and the rain has let up. Want to get something to eat?” You asked Draco, and he nodded, holding out his hand for you to take. You grinned and intertwined your fingers, walking out to the damp street with him.

“Come on, there’s a great deep dish pizza place closer to my apartment.” You led him into the subway, and his arm wrapped around your waist protectively as you waited for your train. His chest was pressed to your back, his grip on you secure.

“We’re safe.” You rubbed his arm that was under your ribs, but he didn’t relax. You rode the train downtown a bit, before getting off in lower manhattan.

“It’s just up here.” You told him, tightening your jacket as the night got colder. The two of you walked half a block into a New York deep dish pizza parlor, and Draco smiled at the delicious smell as you entered.

“Two,” you said to the waiter, and he sat you down at a booth in the corner. Draco’s hand rested on your knee, and the two of you ordered their restaurant original pizza, sipping on ginger beer as you waited.

“This is your New York?”

You hummed, nodding in response. He kissed your cheek sweetly, openly affectionate with you in the public setting.

“Tomorrow we’ll go to the MET so you can see the art,” you said, reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair from his face. He leaned down and kissed you softly, one of his arms around your shoulders as the two of you sat on the same side of the table.

“I’m excited.”

“Me too, it will be fun!” You agreed. You turned as the waiter set down the pizza in front of the two of you, and Draco’s eyebrows shot up.

“This is huge, Y/N!”

The waiter smiled and left you alone, and you sliced off a piece, handing it to him before serving yourself.

“We’ll put the leftovers in the fridge at home. Try it. You’ll like it, I promise.” You encouraged him, and he did so with excitement.

“Oh my gods, this is so good!” He exclaimed, making you giggle.

“New York isn’t half bad, is it?”

He shook his head, silver eyes shining. You enjoyed your pizza, watching people walk by out the window. Draco had already expressed his anxiety over not only the amount of traffic in New York, but also of the cars driving on the wrong side of the street. You giggled at his disdain for the incessant honking, used to the quiet serenity of Malfoy Manor.

You were yawning by the time you walked the last three blocks to your apartment, Draco’s hand on your lower back as you slid your key into the lock. You let yourselves in, kicking off your shoes and losing your jackets in the hall. Draco took his time looking at your apartment now that you had time, and you let him wander as you put your extra pizza in the fridge.

You watched him run his fingers over your books and look at plants and various things of yours that were set around. You leaned in the doorway, unnoticed by him, observing him peek into your life. He picked up a small stuffed bunny off of your bookshelf, an endearing smile on his face as he carefully set it back down.

“I love your room,” Draco said when you stepped in, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting against his back.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s wash the city off,” you said, tossing your jeans into the bin, stripping off the rest of your clothes as he watched, following suit.

You giggled as he chased you into the bathroom, lightly tickling your sides. You turned on the shower, stepping under hot water and pulling your boyfriend in with you. He kissed you deeply, water running over your bodies. He squeezed soap onto his hands and began to glide them over your skin, squeezing your ass in the process. He definitely spent extra time on your chest, and you did the same to him, washing him up. Your giggles echoed in the shower chamber, and Draco left hot kisses over your neck, shoulder, and chest.

Draco lifted you onto the wide tile shelf, kissing you deeply, his tongue invading your mouth. Your fingers tangled into his wet hair, and you spread your legs for him to stand between.

A loud moan escaped you as he slowly entered you, a slight discomfort forming as a result of your lack of regular sex at the castle.

“Please— fuck— move,” you begged Draco, dragging your nails up his back.

He obliged happily, fucking you slowly, careful not to be too rough. Your chest was heaving, your body on fire against the cold tile of the shower, everything slick and steamy. Draco’s mouth moved along your neck and jaw, and your head was spinning as his hips repeatedly met yours.

“Need to feel you come around me, love,” Draco murmured, tweaking your nipples lightly, drawing a squeal from you.

“I’m close, just, a little faster,” you panted, gripping his shoulders. Within minutes you were coming undone, and you wouldn’t collapsed if it wasn’t for the shelf holding most of your weight. You felt Draco’s orgasm follow, leaving you both lightheaded and airy.

“Give me a minute before I can stand up.” You laughed, holding onto his arm to steady you.

The two of you finished getting clean, and you dried off before going to your bed. Your head rested on his chest, fingers tracing shapes over his milky skin until you fell asleep.

You woke up the next morning to soft noises in the kitchen. You got up and pulled Draco’s t shirt over your head, walking out to the kitchen to find Draco struggling.

“I was going to bring you some tea in bed but I can’t find the kettle.” He complained, and you giggled, shaking your head.

“What? Why’re you laughing at me?” He demanded, and you held his cheeks and kissed him.

“Hand me two cups, Malfoy.” You ordered, using his last name. His nose scrunched up, and he bit back the urge to complain about how you addressed him.

He obeyed you, and you filled the cups with filtered water, and put them in the microwave.

“You’re joking-” he started, and you cut him off with another kiss.

“We’re in america, sweetheart. I haven’t got a kettle.”

He was disturbed by your lack of kettle, but he trusted you to make good tea, and he didn’t want to upset you by judging your American ways. The term mudblood pricked into the back of his mind, instilled by his horrid father. He pushed the thought away, and wrapped his arms around you. He didn’t speak, but he hugged you tightly, and you rested against him.

“I love you,” his voice was full of such urgency, you didn’t know what had crossed his mind that made him feel the need to hold you so tightly and remind you of his affection.

“I love you too, Draco.” You touched his face gently, looking into his eyes.

You broke away to drop tea bags into your now-hot water. You put a bit of cream in Draco’s how he preferred it, and he kissed your cheek, pulling the two of you back to bed with your tea.

“We can get ready after this.” You decided, enjoying the warmth of your bed. Draco loved your tea, and he finished his more quickly than you. He traced the flowers printed on the duvet, listening to you talk about the museum you were taking him to.

He was enjoying the city so far, even though the noise had kept him up. He got dressed and admired you in a little white sundress. You spun around for him, and he kissed your lips, catching you and pulling you into him.

He couldn’t keep off of you now that the two of you had space. You’d graduated, and you were free. You could openly be loving without the judgement of teachers or other students, and no one was around that Draco had to protect his reputation from. 

He was always kissing you, holding your hand, or letting his hand rest on your knee now that you were away from judgemental gazes. He enjoyed just being with you. Draco was much more relaxed away from his family and aristocratic peers, and your life together in America was coming a solid reality.

Draco’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand as the two of you ascended the steps up to the MET. You turned, grinning at him in the sunshine, and you pushed up on your toes, kissing him sweetly. 

“I love you!” Draco announced when you dropped back down from kissing him, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Draco.” 

He let you pull him inside, and the two of you spent the entire day wandering through the endless rooms in the art museum, admiring the paintings, drawings, sculptures, and artifacts. 

Draco’s eyes lit up at the sketches of the dancers, he studied them for a long time. 

“I think I’d like to try art.” Draco informed you, and you looked up at him.

“You should, I think you’d be good at it.” You spoke encouragingly, and he smiled down at you.

“Do you mean that?” 

“I do.” You rubbed his arm and kissed his shoulder. 

“Come on, I want to see the impressionists. That’s my favorite part of this place.” 

He followed you, standing behind you as you admired the paintings. His arms were around your waist, and his head rested on your shoulder as he looked at the paintings with you. 

You stayed at the museum until it closed, going home and eating the leftover pizza on the balcony. You handed Draco a sketchbook you had, and some pens, earning a smile.

“I can use them?”

“Of course.” You nodded, and he began to sketch you, sitting there. You listened to the cars below, and happy people singing in an apartment above yours. His sketch was beautiful, and you smiled at him dreamily.

[inredunderlinedx]

We’d still worship this love: Damian Wayne x Reader

A/n: this fix will use she/her pronouns. If you would like to request a different fic with pronouns of your choice I’d be happy to obliged!

Damian is written as 16

Damian was the best at pretty much everything. Except communication; which is how he got here.

“Damian!” You screamed from across the room, “are you really that thick? I mean honestly?”

You had been screaming at each other for over half an hour. You weren’t even sure what about, because he wouldn’t tell you.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Damian yelled.

“Fine.” You said, venom laced in your tone.

You stood up, without taking any of your things (other than your phone which was in your pocket) and left.

You practically ran out of the manor and into your car, which was parked outside. The pouring rain soaked you and you couldn’t see five feet ahead of you. You jumped into the car and started the engine before you could second guess yourself.

You pulled away from the manor and started the drive home. You were shivering from the rain, the heater in your car broke last week, and you were meaning to get it fixed.

You could feel tears brimming, but you looked up and blinked them away, refusing to cry over that asshole.

Your chest once again filled with hot rage at the thought of Damian Wayne.

“What a dick.” You muttered, trying to get the rest of the way home quickly.

You decided to take a back route to avoid traffic, you turned off the main road and began driving again.

Once you arrived at your building you pulled into the garage. Once you ran to the elevator you hit the 6th floor button.

Finally getting a chance to check your phone, you see 5 missed calls from Damian, and 17 texts; starting with “where are you?” And “call me”

You rolled your eyes, and ignored the messages. You heard the elevator ding and you stepped out, grabbing your keys as you headed to your door.

You reached your door, and stuck the key in. finally opening the door you sighed and went to take a hot shower before you went to bed early; trying to avoid texting Damian in the middle of the night to come over.

You walked into the bathroom and turned the water on, waiting for it to reach a decent temperature while you stripped out of your clothes.

The hot water felt amazing on your skin, you stood under the shower head trying to think of anything other than Damian Wayne.

Unfortunately for you, Damian wasn’t an easy person to forget. Every time you let your mind drift, all you wished for was for him to appear and hold you through the night.

You knew your shouldn’t want that. You two were bad for each other. But you could never get enough, you were both addicted.

But you couldn’t help it.

It’s all you wanted. It’s all you could think about.

You tried to remind yourself that he kicked you out, and was probably screwing some model right now; but that didn’t help either.

When you finally turned the water off and wrapped your body and hair in a towel, you started to grab your jewelry, but stopped when you got to the promise ring Damian gave to you.

You knew putting it on would be a statement, but so would leaving it off. So you stood, frozen in the bathroom, staring at a ring.

You finally decided to put it on, trying i convince yourself that didn’t mean anything.

You didn’t both to dress further than a large t-shirt and panties.

You practically collapsed onto your bed, suddenly feeling exhausted, when you heard banging on the front door.

“Y/n?” It was Damian. “Y/n please. I didn’t mean it. Please let me in baby, I’m so sorry. Please y/n. I love you so much.”

You ignored him. You were still angry over how he spoke to you. The banging stopped and you were satisfied he’d given up, but also a little disappointed.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep you heard a tapping noise. Your eyes snapped open, to see Damien on the fire escape outside your bedroom.

“Damian, what the fuck are you doing?” You asked sitting up in bed

“I’m waiting for you to let me in.” He said clearly being poured on

“I’m pretty sure if you wanted to you could open that.” You said

“I’m positive I could but I would prefer to be invited in.” He said

“Fine.” You said getting out of bed to unlock the window.

He climbed in complete soaked. He looked at you while taking your hand.

“Y/n I love you so much. Please forgive me. I- I know it was unacceptable to speak to you that way. I just…”

You continued to look at him expectantly.

“There was a close call, and I thought it was my fault. You almost died and it was my fault.” He said “I couldn’t look you in the eye knowing I was the one to put your life in danger, I’m so sorry. I swear to you it will never happen again.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes. Okay. But if it happens again I’m dumping your ass.” The tone in your voice confirmed that you were serious.

“I love you so so much” he said smiling

“Yeah okay that’s great, can just just kiss me already?”

He grinned and grabbed your face with his hands.

“Okay.” He whispered before kissing you.

A/n: i ran out of inspiration here I’m so sorry

[once-upon-a-oneshot]

Game Over

Based On: “When You Sleep” by Mary Lambert

Summary: Frat!Harry only wants you when he’s drunk, and you’ve finally had enough

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

Here I was for the third time this week pulling up to a frat party in the middle of the night. I didn’t want to be here, but, just like all the other times he had too much to drink, he needed me. Usually it takes a great amount of pushing past drunk underaged college kids to find him at these things. But this time, as soon as I reached the yard of the house, dimly lit by an array of neon party lights, I spotted a mop of curly brown hair, hunched over a bush.

“Yo! Harry dude! I thought we agreed no more puking in our bushes?!” Some frat guy was yelling at him from the porch. Harry’s only response was to flip the guy off and grin while using the bush to hold him up. “Finally! Your baby sitter’s here” The guy half-joked noticing my arrival.

Harry turned around to face me a little too fast, and he stumbled forward nearly falling. I tried my best to support him but there was no chance. I by no means would consider myself “small” or “petite”, but compared to Harry’s 6-foot, broad shouldered stature, he was too large.

“Hey! What’re ya doing hur?” Harry drunkenly slurred semi-regaining his balance.

“Haz, you called me, remember?” Normally I would’ve been embarrassed calling him anything but his name. But I’ve done this enough times to know, in the morning, he won’t remember any of the words exchanged tonight.

It took nearly an hour to get Harry back to my dorm room. Our new personal best. It’s not that I live far from the frat house, it’s more the process of getting Harry here. The trip usually goes something like, helping Harry stumble to the car, pulling over at every traffic light so Harry can throw up, finally making it to his apartment (which is past my own apartment), Harry begging me to help him to his front door, Harry realizing he “forgot” his keys, Harry asking if he can just crash at my place instead, me driving Harry back to my apartment, helping Harry stumble into my dorm.

It took about the third time of this routine being repeated for me to realize the coincidence of Harry forgetting his keys every time he went out, got shit faced, and called me to come pick him up, wasn’t so much a coincidence. And even though it was the same thing every time, I never skipped the step of driving to his apartment, because I knew it meant he’d have to verbally ask me if he could stay with me. And in some sick way, I got off to hearing his lips form those words. It was something so small, but something that meant so much to me. And he knew that. Drunk or not. I knew what the morning would bring, but for the night, I’d listen to Harry’s slow, peaceful breathing as he slept.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Harry attempting to tip-toe around, collecting his things before I’d wake up. And just like every other morning, I lay perfectly still, letting silent tears hit the pillow, while I listen to the boy I love try to pretend he was never here.

LATER ON CAMPUS

“Hey (Y/N), what did I miss in class today?” I swiveled around in the library chair to face the person who was speaking to me.

Before even facing him, I recognized the voice as a kid from my Biology class, who also happened to be from my hometown. We weren’t necessarily friends, but we engaged in small talk every once in a while. Although I knew who it was before I turned around, I didn’t expect Harry to be standing there with him.

“Oh, uh, not too much.” I focused as hard as I could on my classmate to keep from looking over at Harry. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I was too embarrassed to look at him. “I can send them to you if you want.”

“Sick! Can you email them to me right now, so I can print them right quick?” I wanted badly to make up some excuse for why I just had to leave and send the notes later, so I could get far far away from Harry. But when I opened my mouth, “Sure” is all that came out.

The guy sat at the computer across from me, and Harry sat down next to him. I fixed my eyes on the computer screen and tried to steady my shaky hands enough to hurriedly send the notes. All the while Harry continued to stare.

As soon as the notes were sent, I logged off the computer and packed up my things. In order to get out of the library I had to pass Harry and the guy, and it was just my luck that the guy had gotten up to go print. As I passed Harry, he grabbed my wrist stopping me. I finally looked into his green eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare like he had already been doing.

“What?” I asked getting uncomfortable with the intensity he was looking at me with. He just shrugged in response.

Once Harry noticed his friend walking back to the computer, he quickly released my wrist, and turned around, as if nothing had ever happened.

Things have been this way with Harry since I met him. Since the day I became his. He knew I had a crush on him, and it gave him some sort of ego trip. Even though he knew I already wanted him, he wanted to make sure it would stay that way. So, whenever he felt like I wasn’t paying him enough attention, or he thought my yearning for him was slipping away, he’d throw me a bone to keep me begging. Initially I made the mistake of thinking this meant that by some chance, he wanted me the same way, but he proved time and time again (through his actions and his words), this wasn’t the case.

And after months of taking whatever treatment Harry would give me. I finally snapped. It happened one night at a party. I was drinking, and I didn’t know he’d be there. I spent the night avoiding him. I was afraid of what drunk me may say or do once I got around him. When he entered a room, suddenly I had somewhere else to be. When he needed another drink from the kitchen, suddenly I wasn’t thirsty anymore. When he wanted to join on the beer pong table, suddenly I was bored of the game. And Harry noticed.

I was on the second floor of the house on my own, exhausted from dodging Harry all night. I leaned my back against the wall of the hall after the stairs reminded me just how buzzed I really was. I guess Harry spotted me heading up stairs because I heard footsteps on the stairs, before he appeared at the top of them. Without saying anything, Harry glanced over his shoulder, before walking and standing directly in front of me. He put an arm up on either side of my head, trapping me between him and the wall.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” he said too casually for our position. “Are you mad at me or something?” This took me by surprise.

“What?”

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.” Again, his tone was way too casual for the things he was saying. But honestly, that’s always how Harry played it.

“You mean living my life? Enjoying the party? Not worshiping the ground you walk on?” Harry’s only response was a smirk. That’s when I started getting angry. “Look I’m too drunk to even be having this conversation with you right now Haz, so can we ju-“

“What’d you just call me?” Harry questioned raising an eyebrow at me. I froze. I was so drunk and emotional that I had accidentally let it slip. But upon processing the look on Harry’s face as something almost resembling distain, my embarrassment turned to pure anger.

“What do you want from me Harry?!” anger was thick in my voice as I pushed him backwards further from me.

“What are you talki-“

“No. Don’t you dare do that! Don’t act like you’re clueless. Like-like you haven’t been playing games with me since we met!” He said nothing. Instead he just stood staring at me. An emotionless expression painted across that beautiful face.

I wanted to stay angry. I wanted the fire burning inside of me to push me to finally walking away from this toxic man. But seeing that there was truly nothing there, the anger fizzled out to simple exhaustion.

“Look, we both know you know how I feel about you. And we both know you don’t feel the same way. But you play with my head. You flirt with me just long enough to wrap me around your finger. And then silence. Just like I never existed. That is until your hold on me starts unraveling again. It’s just some big twisted game for you. It’s like when you can’t have my attention, you suddenly want it.”

“It’s no-“

“I’m not done. For once in the history of whatever the fuck this thing with us is, it’s my turn to talk, and your turn to just listen. And I want you to listen good, because this is the only time I’m ever going to say.” I waited for some sign from Harry to let me know he was really paying attention.

He nodded so I continued.

“I can’t keep being a pawn in your torturous game Harry. It’s not fair to me. You’re breaking me apart and you don’t even care. The thing that hurts the most Harry,” I fought the tears for as long as I could, but the alcohol made it nearly impossible “is the fact that I know I could make you so happy. I would do everything in my power to give you the world. Hell, I basically already do. But you’re so blinded by “not wanting to be with me” that you don’t even realize how good I am for you. How good I am to you. If you stop telling yourself you’re not allowed to love me, I guarantee I’d make you fall. But if that’s not what you want. If you really, truly don’t even want to give me a chance, I’m done. I’ll have to walk away before you finish draining what little of me, I have left. And if that’s what it comes to, I’m begging you, please just let me go. No more games.”

Harry just stood and, like he so often did, stared. Blank. I felt like I was frozen in that moment and all the air had been sucked from the room. Unfortunately, I could feel myself began to sober up as I stood in anticipation of Harry’s response. I wished like hell I was still drunk, because maybe it would’ve hurt less when Harry finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he began backing away back towards the stairs. “I’ll leave you alone.” And with that he spun on his heels and trotted back down to the party.

[raggaraddy]

Play Pretend

Summary: When the chance comes to escape you're are going to play it smart to make sure you get away.

Trigger Warnings: Murder, gun usage, abuse, violence, kidnapping, imprisonment.

Jungkook

Yandere!Jungkook

Mafia!Jungkook

It's been about a week since Jungkook locked you in. Only now were the bruises on your ribs going down. And no matter how quickly he shifted back to normal and calmed down the damage was done, he’d shown you a truly terrifying side of himself and you knew he couldn’t be trusted anymore. The worst of it was that he never even feigned an apology. He didn’t think he was in the wrong to react like he did. He just went from one day to the next like nothing was different.

You felt so stupid. You had thought there was something not right with him the first time you met him. But instead of trusting your gut, you got swept up in his good looks and charm. And that lack of discernment is the reason why you've been trapped in his house for a week now. You tried to tell him that people would be looking for your eventually. But with full certainty, he assured you that wouldn’t be the case. You weren’t sure why or how, but you knew that he 100% believed it. And that made your situation even more despondent.

This evening, for the first time in 8 days, Jungkook finally left the house.  You had thought it might be a chance for you to look for an escape, but to your disappointment, he left one of his ‘employees’ with you.  You still can't pinpoint what he does exactly, but all of the people you have seen with Junkook have a similar dangerous vibe. This one is no exception. Tall, strong, large and mean-looking. It completely dashed your hopes of getting away.  That was until you heard the clear and threatening order Jungkook gave him.  For the second time, you were seeing this sweet kind young man have men double his age, who were larger and tougher looking than him, look weak and fearful. The exact wording slipped your mind, but the gist of it was if anything happens to you while he is gone, Jungkook will violently kill your guard.

After a few hours of stirring, half hesitant to try and half trying to perfect the idea, you finally decide you need to at least attempt a prison break.

Calling the guard, you drop to the bedroom floor, curling yourself tight, clutching your ribs. You knew your bruises were still purple and black there, so it would be the most convincing place to say you had pain.  After a few screams, the man dashes in his face draining at seeing you writhing on the floor in agony.

“What happened?” He barks.

“I fell. It hurts.” You wheeze, knowing it's best to keep your details simple to maintain the act.

He bends to help you up and you wail a faked cry of pain, applying your years of watching dramas into practice. You’re not sure how believable your act is, but the man is so swept up in the panic of the moment, it doesn’t really matter.  As he gets you onto the bed, you pull up your shirt slightly exposing your marks and bruises and it's the tipping point.  He goes from worried to frantic.

"Sh-" he whispers the exclamation under his breath. He looks to ponder his options, and you hope your theory is right and that he is too afraid to call Jungkook first. "Alright, you need to go to the hospital." He declares. You have to lean more into the pained acting to stop a smile from coming onto your face, thankful that your plan is so far working.

The guard picks you up bridal style and carries you downstairs with an urgent patter to his steps. Getting you into the back seat of the car, he rushes into the front and begins driving. Despite his craze, you're surprised to see him driving so steadily and rationally. Abiding the road rules and sticking to the speed limits.

You think your best, or only option would be to get some privacy with Doctor at the hospital and tell him everything. Beg him to call the police. The one risk for going to the hospital is the possibility of the guard not leaving you to talk to the Doctor.

"Fuck." The man hisses under his breath as his phone begins to ring.

The call connects to the cars Bluetooth as he answers, blasting Jungkooks voice in surround sound.

"I'm at home, but you're not. Where are you?" He questions with an ominous tone. The drivers head flicks back to you, his uncertainty flashing through his eyes as he decides what or how much of the truth to tell.

"She hurt herself. Her chest. So I am taking her to the hospital." He reveals everything with a shake in his voice.

Jungkook bursts into a sharp laugh, the sudden piercing of it through the speakers making both of you jump. "She's fine. Bring her back now."

You spring upright, eyes wide. The car rolls to a stop at the traffic light, the man's gaze meeting yours in the rear-view mirror. Jungkook knows! He knows you're faking it. He's going to hurt you again when you get back. You can't let him take you back.

The second the car stops, you don't pause to think, yanking on the door handle and throwing yourself out of the car. Because it is nearly midnight, the suburban area is desolate, but there are a few houses that still have lights on. You know your best option is one of those.

Breaking into a sprint you run across the main road over the island and towards the first house you can see any sign of life in. In a mad frenzy, you begin to pound on the door, calling and screaming for help, begging for them to open. Behind you, you can feel the guard quickly catching up and your pleading gets more desperate.

Giving you pure relief, the front door opens on a middle-aged man looking nearly as petrified as you. You don't wait to explain or discuss anything instead barge past him, hurling yourself through the open door. You spin on your heels, slamming the entrance closed. It doesn't shut though. The full body of the guard powers through the door colliding into you and the homeowner, knocking you both onto the ground in a painful blow.

With a heavy breath and a wild look in his eyes, he stalks over top of you, sealing you all in. The guard pulls a gun and his phone from his pocket, the call to Jungkook seeing to still be active. "Alright, I have h-" he speaks into the receiver, pointing the weapon at the man, rendering him frozen.

"Where are you?!" Jungkook yells, making the guard pull the phone from his ear. Even from a few meters away you can hear his hostile voice loudly and clearly.

For 10 minutes you are sat in the living room numb with fear. You could hear how furious Jungkook was. You can see how mad and nervous your guard is, and you can feel how confused and terrorised the older man is. Without movement, the three of you are stuck in a tense stare off, none able to speak.

On the 11th minute, there is a knock on the front door. The guard peers through the side window and his breath catches in his throat.

You start to physically shake as Jungkook comes in with two more men at his back, looking like an uneven, unsettling mix of calm and intense. Walking in with his hands in his pockets, he takes the size of all three people in the room.

"You left the car in the middle of the road?" He asks the guard, his gaze staying fixed on you.

"Yes. I had to chase her down." He tries to explain shortly.

"Ah," Junkook muses with a click of his tongue. "Get rid of it." He orders one of the other men who came in with him.

The guy nods, rushing to follow the instruction. As the door slams shut, Jungkook walks towards you squatting to your level. "Your ribs hurt Kitten?" he asks with a faked sweetness. He leans down digging his forefinger and thumb into your ribcage. It brings back the true pain of your injuries, making you squeal and writhe while trying to get away from him. His hand wraps around your side, keeping you in place and pushing you to the floor, crushing and gripping your wounds, bringing shortness to your breath and tears to your eyes.

After tormenting you for a few miserable minutes, Jungkook scoffs out a short laugh, standing back up nearly stepping on top of you. "Pick him up" He orders your guard, gesturing toward the homeowner on the floor behind you. He does so, having to hold a lot of the man's weight to get him to his feet. "Anyone else in the house?"

"No, I don't think so." The guard replies with uncertainty.

"Well you're not exactly reliable, are you?" Jungkook sneers.

You jump as two incredibly loud bangs echo out. One after the other, both the guard and the older man drop to the floor. Looking up at Jungkook horrified, he is standing over you holding a gun having just shot the two men. Your stomach is churning at the realization of what he just did. There is only a weak grunt and then silence from the older man, his body slumping still and lifeless. But from the other, there are continued struggled and gasped moans. Jungkook coolly walks to him, another shot firing and the pained sounds stop. Only silence and the pulsing ringing in your ears from the sudden blasts remain.

You're motionless. Panting broken breaths. Too in shock to move. Too scared to do anything. You can't believe this is happening. You're sure you're about to die.

"Go check the house." Jungkook kneels down beside you again, throwing the order to the second man that came with him.

With just the two of you left in the room, he comes closer, speaking lowly and gruffly in your ear. "See what you did Y/n." He motions to the side of you, to the murderous and violent display. You can't bring yourself to look. You know the sounds of those two men will haunt you for the rest of your life. You don't want to add the gruesome image of it as well. "Do want to play? You want to pretend to be in pain?" His hand roughly brushes the hair from off your face. He switches the gun from one hand to the other, his now free left hand digging tightly into your jaw, turning you to him. "Well, we're going home Kitten. And you won't need to pretend when I'm done with you."

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Stark!Fem!Reader) — part two

I’m backkk so sorry this took forever, my idiot/goblin brain wanted to hold onto this part for longer?? Anywho

Summary: The one in which you meet Bucky Barnes for the first time. Also the one in which you want to ram Tony Stark’s skull into the wall.

Warnings: angst, mentions of past violence, mentions of death, Tony is still pretty douchey (I know y’all don’t wanna hear this but he is a giant asshole 99% of the time)

Series Masterlist

You can’t sleep.

It doesn’t help that you haven’t had a real bed to sleep in — let alone one that has memory foam or whatever the hell that is on this mattress — for some time now. But the Tower is too quiet.

You can’t open your window and Tony must have the place basically sound-proofed because you can’t hear any of the city sounds that you’re used to. The late night traffic, the sirens, the footsteps, the voices, the fights, the snoring. You’re alone in here and it’s eating you alive.

You’re still wearing Wanda’s clothes. Pepper said she’d let you pick out some clothes today and they could be delivered. She offered to go shopping somewhere with you, but you don’t want anything fancy. You’ve never even been to a mall, not to shop, so that idea alone felt too much.

Grabbing a pillow from the bed, you move to the floor in front of the window. Laying on your stomach, you rest your elbows on the pillow, staring out at the city lights.

After some time, you give in and lay your head down, hoping it’ll bring sleep around. Luckily for you, it does.

Unluckily for you, sleeping on your stomach on the hard floor has your ribs feeling properly bruised by the time the sun rises. You roll over onto your back, letting your shoulder blades take the weight for the next couple hours.

By the time late morning rolls around, you open your eyes, feeling exhausted. Restless sleep is the only kind of sleep you know.

Dragging yourself off the floor, you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You’re not used to having one, but you’ll gladly use the toothbrush here. That’s one thing you missed more than the others while you were homeless.

You exit the bathroom and head out into the hall, down to the living area and kitchen. It’s quiet, so you figure everyone is gone or out.

You’re busy climbing on the counter to look in the top cabinet when you hear footsteps on the hall, but they’re sort of far away, or they sound muffled like they’re a distance away. You halt your movements for good measure of listening, and you definitely feel like someone is down the hall.

But, your stomach growls, so you go back to rummaging through the cabinet.

The person you sensed steps around the corner into the kitchen and freezes. He has no idea who you are, but you’re standing on top of the counter, and that’s when he realizes you’re standing on top of the counter.

This is around the same moment that you vaguely sense the same presence from the hall behind you, and you jump when you see someone is actually standing there.

He is next to the counter in a split second, holding his Vibranium arm out in case you fall. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to get cereal, what the fuck does it look like?”

“It looked like you were about to fall on your ass.”

“Lucky me, I didn’t,” you snort, resisting the urge to kick his face. He’s at the perfect height for you to do it, too. “Who the hell are you?”

“Bucky,” he answers. “Who the hell are you?” He fires back.

“Y/N,” you reply, turning to go back to looking in the cabinet. It’s mostly random things, nothing you particularly care to eat. “Do you know where everyone is?”

Bucky leans back against the opposite counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Probably asleep. We just got back an hour ago.”

You hum. Right, Tony said a few of them were out. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Don’t want to mess up my schedule.”

“Hm.” You smell bullshit.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, closing the cabinet and hopping down. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

As you’re making your way toward the hall, you’re stopped by Tony’s voice.

“Munchkin. Get back here. You and I have some things to discuss.”

You spin around. “What now?”

“What now is right,” Tony deadpans. “Come on. My office. And Barnes, go the fuck to sleep for once.”

Bucky snorts, flipping Tony off, but only you saw it. You grinned, mouthing thank you.

Bucky smiled boyishly in return.

+++

Tony conveniently waits until his office door has shut before he starts in on the questions.

“When did your mother pass away?”

“A month ago,” you reply slowly, really too exhausted to deal with this or Tony right now. “Why are you asking that?”

“Because I wanted to see if you’d continue to lie to me, and you have.”

“What are you talking about?” You gathered that he was a pain in the ass, but delusional, too? Jesus.

“She didn’t pass away a month ago. Her funeral was a month ago.”

“Okay? And? What the hell does it matter?”

“The funeral was delayed because the police think you killed her.”

Fuck. He found out. “Well I didn’t.”

Tony looks ready to scream at you. “So you knew there was a warrant out for your arrest?”

“Well, yes, but—” This time Tony does cut you off by a million cuss words, but you continue over top of him. “I thought they gave up!”

“You knew they were looking for you and you walked in here instead. I should turn you in right now. In fact, I don’t know why I haven’t called the police yet.” He’s waving his arms wildly, no doubt trying to control his anger at the absurdity of this situation.

You cross your arms over your chest. “They have no proof.”

“Clearly they have something or there wouldn’t be a warrant.”

“They don’t have shit, Tony. I wasn’t even near my house when it went up in flames, alright? I was a mile away.”

“Where? Where were you?”

“At a gas station.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Are you interrogating me?” Is he recording this? Your eyes search briefly for cameras before you remember he’s a tech genius, so his cameras are probably hidden.

“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of why you have a warrant and why you decided to waltz in here. Do you know how much trouble this could get me in?”

“I’m sure you could pay your way out of it.”

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers at you, “I’m being serious.”

“Me too,” you snap your fingers back at him, too fed up with him to care, “Mr. Billionaire.”

The two of you stare at one another, unblinking, unflinching, anger seeping through your skin. Tony has realized quickly that no matter how hard he pushes your buttons, you’ll push his right back, just as much if not more.

Maybe you are his.

“I’ll ask one more time,” Tony starts. “Did you start that fire?”

“I was too busy getting stabbed to start a fucking fire, okay?”

This has Tony reeling in shock instead of anger. “Stabbed? Are you fucking nuts? What do you mean you were getting stabbed?”

“I mean I was getting stabbed. What else do you think that means?”

Tony sighs tiredly, frustration making him clench his jaw. “Where?”

You gesture to your abdomen. “Just in a couple places.”

Tony’s eyes widen. “A couple— Alright, you know what, we can finish this later, because right now,” he points his index finger at you, “you need to get to MedBay.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing about getting stabbed, munchkin. It can cause internal damage. And if you never went to the hospital—”

“I stitched myself up, it was fine—”

“Uh-uh, shut it,” he snaps. “Come on. Come with me.”

+++

You run into Bucky once again when you get off the elevator at MedBay. He’s talking with Steve who is checking on Natasha who is a little bruised, and all three of their heads turn when they see you dragging your feet behind Tony.

Bucky gives you a questioning look while Steve and Natasha look plain confused, both having not met you until now.

“FRIDAY,” Tony calls out. “I need a full body scan on Y/N.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

You roll your eyes as Tony gestures you into a room. You can still see everyone through the glass walls as you step on a small circle in the floor, presuming it’s where you need to stand for the scan.

Steve asks the million dollar question. “What’s going on?”

“Got stabbed,” you reply with a shrug, making Tony’s blood boil even faster.

Natasha snorts at your nonchalance, Steve gives Tony a baffled look, but Bucky seems weirdly concerned. “You what?”

“It was a long time ago,” you tell Bucky.

“No, it was a few months ago. And she never went to a hospital,” Tony adds, right as FRIDAY finishes the scan. “What have we got FRIDAY?”

“Evidence of internal bleeding that has since stopped, but nothing else. Everything has healed properly.”

“Well thank god for that,” Tony deadpans.

You nearly flip him off right there, but you settle on a glare. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” Tony says. “But we’re not done.”

“For fuck’s sake, I did not start the fire!”

“Oh no, I believe you there,” Tony says. “I wanna know who stabbed you.”

“Some random idiots,” you shrug, walking out of the room and past Tony, back toward Steve, Natasha, and Bucky. “Leave me the hell alone about it. Goddamn.”

Tony lets you walk this time, watching you storm off toward the elevator. Meanwhile, he has two super soldiers and a spy staring at him like they just found out his darkest secret.

“So...that’s Y/N,” Natasha comments. “She’s got fire.”

“She’s also got an attitude,” Tony retorts.

“It’s just like yours,” Steve fires back, raising an eyebrow.

Tony ignores him.

“Here’s my question,” Natasha says. “If she was stabbed that many times in that many places— How did it heal? That’s not normal.” And when Tony gives her a confused look, she adds, “You know what I mean.”

“Wait,” Steve catches on. “You don’t think she’s…” He looks over at Bucky.

“She knew I was standing behind the wall earlier,” Bucky says, a realization crossing his face. “She could sense me. I heard her, but I was too far away for any normal person to hear me.”

“Okay, let’s not jump to these conclusions right now,” Tony interjects. “It’s bad enough she has an arrest warrant and a habit of getting stabbed. I don’t need to worry about her being like you two knuckleheads.”

“It’s still worth looking into,” Natasha comments.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “We need to know if she is, Tony.”

“Well right now, she’s being a hormonal teenager, so I don’t think I’ll be able to ask her about it,” Tony deadpans.

“She just lost her mom,” Bucky says, remembering when Steve told him, and his heart broke for you. “Give her a break.”

“If you want to talk to her Barnes, go right ahead.”

“I might,” Bucky retorts, already heading toward the exit so he can find where you went. “Just to apologize for your attitude.”

+++

It takes Bucky a full ten minutes of searching for you before he remembers he can just ask FRIDAY.

“She’s currently in her room, James, but it is on Do Not Disturb.”

“Can you override that for me?” Bucky asks the AI.

“One moment.”

Bucky has no idea why FRIDAY needs a moment, but he waits. He’s in the living area so your room is just down the hall, but knocking does no good when Do Not Disturb is live. He knows because he uses it every night. No sound gets in or out.

“Do Not Disturb overridden by Tony Stark.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. Of course.

He heads down the hall to knock on your door, but you don’t respond. Because of the circumstances, Bucky goes against his better judgement and opens your door.

He’s met with a pillow hitting his chest.

“Oh,” you say immediately after. Bucky is surprised to find you sitting on the floor in front of the window, facing the city skies with a blanket over your shoulders. “Sorry. FRIDAY said Tony overrode it so I thought it was him.”

“Nope, just me,” Bucky replies, holding out his hands. He reaches down and grabs the pillow, tossing it back on your bed. “What are you doing down there?”

“Looking,” you shrug, turning back around to face the city.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

Bucky shuts the door. “FRIDAY, put Do Not Disturb back up please.”

“Of course, James. Do Not Disturb is now active.”

“It’s really weird,” you say. “Having an AI in this place. Doesn’t it creep you out?”

Bucky lets out a laugh when he kneels to the floor to sit a little distance away from you, putting his back to the window. “There’s a lot of tech I don’t understand. I kinda had to get used to it quick when I was in Wakanda, though, so nothing phases me anymore.”

“Right, you were...gone for a while,” you pause, not knowing how to approach the subject. “You and Steve both were, right?”

He nods. “Steve was frozen, I was brainwashed.”

He says it so bluntly that you don’t know how to respond at all.

“I’m not anymore,” Bucky continues. “But I did a lot that I’m not proud of. And I was framed for something I didn’t do.”

You half-hum, half-scoff at that. “So you know what it’s like.”

Bucky nods, leaning his head back against the window. “I do.”

“Who were you brainwashed by again?”

“HYDRA,” Bucky replies, tensing a little. “Why?”

“Just curious,” you shrug. “The name sounds familiar, though.”

Bucky lifts his head from the window. “How familiar?”

You shake your head, unsure. “I dunno. It was all over the news, though, right? That’s probably why.”

“Yeah, probably,” Bucky replies slowly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them.

“Do you know why you were stabbed?”

You don’t move a single muscle. You don’t even blink.

“Tony was an asshole,” Bucky says. “He shouldn’t force you to talk about something that recent.”

“Yeah.”

“But if you do ever wanna talk about it,” Bucky pauses, “I’m here. No pressure, though. I get it.”

You nod slowly, watching him from your peripheral vision. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Just not right now,” you continue, surprising yourself and Bucky. “Maybe later.”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs. “I’ll give you some space, though. Do you uh...want your pillow back?”

You perk up a little. “Yeah, thanks. If you don’t mind.”

Bucky pushes himself to his feet, walking over to the bed to grab your pillow. He tosses it back to you gently.

You smile softly and hug it to your chest, but Bucky knows that once he leaves, you’ll lay down and sleep, right there in front of the window. Because your bed must be too soft.

He gets it. His is, too.

[lunar-wandering]

“this house is a frickin’ nightmare”

so i. decided to write something for the ‘Sitcom’ AU, which is basically just the concept that post-canon, everyone lives in the same house.... its Fun.

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on Ao3

-

"Monkey King, get down from the fridge."

"No."

This exchange is what drew MK's attention to the fact that something was happening in the kitchen.

In MK's opinion, it was far too early for something to be happening in the kitchen.

"Wukong, I swear, if you don't get down from there-"

"What- you gonna stab me? Pigsy, you know full well that method is ineffective."

"What is going on?" MK asked, entering the kitchen and, well, seeing exactly what he had expected; Wukong crouched on top of the fridge, staring down at Pigsy, who was glaring up at him.

Still though. Just because he'd expected to see it didn't explain why it was happening.

"Oh hey, kid." Wukong said, taking notice of him. "Everything's fine, you can go back to your room, breakfast will be ready soon."

"It would be done already if you hadn't burned it." Pigsy said, gesturing to the charred remains of what supposedly had been breakfast. "Seriously, can't you follow simple instructions?? Now we've gotta start all over."

"It's not my fault I'm a visual learner." Wukong said, his tail swinging back and forth.

"It was three steps-"

"What's going on?"

MK barely kept himself from startling at the new voice behind him, turning around to see a very tired looking Red Son.

"Breakfast burned." MK said, catching Red Son up on the situation. Red Son hummed in contemplation, walking into the kitchen, picking up a piece of the unrecognizable charred food, and, ignoring the other's growing horror, he ate it.

"...Tastes fine to me." He said, going so far as to grab and nibble on another piece as he turned and left, presumably heading back to his room. The remaining three watched him go in shocked silence.

"....This house is a frickin' nightmare." Wukong deadpanned. Pigsy nodded in agreement.

"Aptly put. Now get off of the fridge."

"No."

MK decided to go back to bed.

-

It was commonly known, within the household, that somehow, Tang and Wukong continuously managed to get out of doing their fair share of the chores. No one was quite sure how they did it, as the two of them kept coming up with new methods every day.

Today's method was..... interesting, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, they had managed to remove their names from the Chore Roulette Wheel, without leaving any trace that their names had ever even been there. Which was, in fact, rather impressive, considering that the roulette wheel was literally a giant wooden roulette wheel, built by Sandy, and there were no empty spaces were their names used to be, they were just. Gone.

To be honest, MK would've never noticed if Mei hadn't pointed it out.

Now, there was a house-wide search for the two chore-shirkers.

"Found 'em yet?" MK yelled down the stairs into the basement. A few seconds passed, then a unanimous call of "No!" came. MK sighed. If the Spider-gang couldn't find Tang and Wukong down there, then they probably weren't there. (.....Probably. Wukong did have a lot of tricks up his sleeves, and MK didn't put it pass his mentor to use them for something like this.)

That checked off the majority of the house.... which only left-

An enraged scream (courtesy of Mei) from upstairs confirmed what MK had concluded.

They were on the roof.

MK rushed to the stairs, running up them-

Only to pause as he heard a yelp, and a flash of gold fell past the window, followed by a loud thud. MK leaned on the windowsill to look outside, just in time to see Tang fall past it. Wukong, a few branches and grass in his fur from his rough landing, summoned his cloud to catch Tang, before zooming away.

As MK would later find out, in the haste to escape Mei's wrath, Tang had actually pushed Wukong off the roof. Wukong, in return, had unceremoniously dropped Tang on the ground the first chance he got.

Both of their names were back on the roulette wheel by the next morning.

....They still managed to get out of doing their chores though.

-

"Oh, hey Macaque." MK mumbled, tiredly rubbing his eyes, and Macaque, mid-way through stealing a snack out of the fridge, froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh.....hey, bud." He said, slowly closing the fridge door, glancing at MK, who was obviously very tired, then looking at the clock on the wall.

2:43 AM. Okay, he could work with this.

"What are you doing up so late?" Macaque asked, leaning casually against the fridge in an attempt to hide his nervousness. If MK had been more awake, he would've noticed and called him out on it, but as it was....

"Just woke up.... wanted to get a snack." MK said, and Macaque quickly opened a nearby cupboard.

"Here, have this." He said, putting a cookie in MK's hands, before grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around, and gently shoving him back towards his room. "Now go back to bed."

"G'night, Macaque." MK said, nibbling on his cookie.

"Goodnight, MK." Macaque sighed, waiting until he heard MK's bedroom door click closed again before melting back into the shadows.

The next morning, MK thought he had dreamt the whole thing. After all, Macaque had vehemently denied the invitation to live in the house with everyone else, surely if he had changed his mind and started to live with them, someone would've noticed.

....Right?

-

"Monkey King?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always sleep on the roof?" Red Son asked, "I mean, you do have a room after all, why don't you use it?"

"I just like watching the stars." Wukong said, reclining on his cloud. Suddenly, Mei and MK also appeared beside Red Son, with their arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"You told me that beds were uncomfortable." Mei said.

"And you told me that you liked the breeze." MK added. Wukong's tail bristled a little, but he still didn't look over at them.

"Well, I mean, all of those are true." Wukong said, "Figured I would just... switch my answers up from time to time, keep things entertaining you know?"

"That doesn't explain why you slept out there in the pouring rain." Mei said, "In fact, the only time we've seen you sleep inside is when we have blanket fort night."

"...The rain was nice?" Wukong said, sounding uncertain. The trio narrowed their eyes.

"Is there something wrong with your room?" Red Son asked, and Wukong flinched.

"No." He said, finally sitting up and looking at them. "Really, my room's perfectly fine, I don't know where you're getting the idea that something's wrong-"

"You're doing that nervous smile again." MK said, and Wukong slammed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide what the trio had already seen.

There was a moment of silence, and in that moment, each member of the traffic light trio came to a shared conclusion.

No matter the cost, they would get into Wukong's room.

Almost as though they had actually planned it, the trio took off towards the staircase, ignoring Wukong's yells for them to stop. Hurriedly, Wukong summoned two clones, then rushed after the trio.

Red on got caught on the stairs, the clone grabbing hold of the edge of his coat and dragging him down. It wouldn't be able to hold him for long of course, his fire could quickly burn the clone away, but it would still manage to slow him down.

Mei was captured in the hallway, the clone pushing off the wall to tackle her, accidentally knocking her right into Yin and Jin's room, pining her to the ground as the twins yelped in shock.

...Which just left MK.

Having trained with the Monkey King, MK found himself easily dodging Wukong's attempts to catch him. Slightly out of breath, he skidded to a stop in front of Wukong's door, turned the knob, and opened it.

"I don't really see what the problem is, the room looks fine to me-" MK said, stepping into the room.

"Kid, wait-" Wukong started to say, but it was too late.

MK tripped, tumbling into the room, dispelling the illusion Wukong had carefully crafted and placed over it.

Wukong's room was a mess, to put things lightly. There was stuff everywhere- books, clothes, antiques, food, you named it, it was probably there. It was to the point where there was no place to sleep, the bed being covered in stuff. Which, well, that explained the whole 'sleeping on the roof' thing, but still.

Wukong nervously shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. Red Son and Mei, who had succeeded in freeing themselves, as well as Yin and Jin, who had gotten curious from all the commotion, stared over Wukong's shoulders, taking in the state of the room.

MK sat there for a moment, looking at the mess (and sure, MK's room was messy too, but this-), before slowly turning around to look at his mentor, a serious expression on his face.

"Wukong." MK said, and Wukong stiffened, his nervous smile growing wider at the sound of MK saying his name instead of his title.

"...Yeah?" Wukong said, chuckling nervously as MK's look darkened.

"...I'm getting Sandy."

"Wait, no no no-"

The rest of the day was spent cleaning up Wukong's room, sorting through the piles upon piles of stuff.

Wukong, in a bout of spite, still slept on the roof anyways.

-

Yin and Jin stared in shock at the scene in front of them.

Everyone in the house knew that Wukong and Tang adamantly avoided doing their share of the chores. (The roof-pushing incident was still fresh in everyone's minds, after all).

So that's why seeing Wukong doing the laundry was very out of place.

"...What are you two staring at?" Wukong asked, snapping the twins out of their shocked reverie.

"It's just....weird to see you doing the laundry, that's all." Yin said, and that-

Well, surprisingly enough, that made Wukong actually pause.

"It is?" He asked, slowly setting the laundry basket down on the ground, subtly nudging it under a nearby table so that it was now out of view.

"Well, I mean, with how you and Mr. Tang utilize every method possible to avoid doing the chores, we never thought we'd actually see you doing one." Jin said.

"...I see." Wukong said, quietly. "Well, in that case. You two saw nothing."

"Wha-"

Not giving them a chance to respond, Wukong flashed a peace sign, then vanished, leaving the twins to sputter in disbelief.

(Later, Macaque returned to the laundry room to pick up the clothes he'd left behind.)

-

Syntax paused as he stared at the sight before him.

"...What is this?" He ased, drawing the attention of the occupants in the living room.

"A braid train!" MK replied, and honestly, that's what it was. MK sat on the floor, braiding Bai He's hair, Bai He braiding Red Son's, who was braiding Mei's hair. Mei pulled one hand out of Spider Queen's hair to give Syntax a little wave before returning to braiding the queen's hair. Spider Queen gently weaved Huntsman's hair into a braid that looked above professional level. Huntsman was twisted at an odd angle in order to put some braids in Sandy's beard. And Sandy carefully created some tiny braids in Wukong's fur."

"I....see." Syntax said, holding up his phone and taking a quick picture before any of the braid train participants could notice.

"Do you wanna join?" MK asked, "You can either braid my hair or get yours braided by Monkey King. Your choice."

Syntax took a moment to think about it.

He ended up braiding MK's hair.

-

There was someone in the shower.

Now, usually, this wouldn't be such a mind-boggling thing, but-

All of the house's occupants stared at the bathroom door in trepidation.

"You sure Wukong didn't just accidentally leave the shower on again?" Princess Iron Fan asked, prompting some indignant sputtering from Wukong, who was sitting on Demon Bull King's shoulder. MK shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sure I heard someone moving in there." He said, crossing his arms.

"Why don't you or Monkey King just use your true sight and get this whole mystery over with?" Jin asked.

"Yeah, we've already been waiting for like, 20 minutes." Yin said.

"They're in the shower." MK said, "I'm not just gonna invade their privacy like that, regardless of who they are."

The shower turned off, and everyone turned to stare at the door again, in silence. There was some rustling around, and then the door opened.

Macaque. It was Macaque. Who, upon realizing that literally the entire household was standing in front of him, froze.

And then immediately tried to turn and run.

"Oh no you don't." Wukong said, jumping off of Demon Bull King's shoulder, and outright tackling the other monkey to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here?" Macaque said, sitting up and shoving Wukong off of him.

"You turned down the invitation to come and live with us though...." Wukong said, slowly standing back up. ".....How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Everyone went into various states of shock.

"How could we not have noticed you?" MK asked.

"You- you did notice me though." Macaque said, "Like, we had a whole conversation in the kitchen at around 3 AM."

"You think I remember what happens at 3 am?!" MK said, holding his head in his hands, and Red Son comfortingly patted him on the back.

"What happens at 3 AM stays at 3 AM." Red Son said, sounding like he was saying some ancient wisdom despite the actual sentence being utter nonsense. Yin and Jin snapped their fingers as a look of realization appeared on their faces. 

"That's why we saw Wukong doing the laundry the other day." Yin said, "It was Macaque in disguise!"

"....Yeah, I figured you'd notice if I didn't do some chores, just to clean up after myself." Macaque sighed, and Pigsy turned to glare at Wukong and Tang.

"See? Even the ex-villain does more chores than you two." He said, and Wukong and Tang purposefully looked away, whistling innocently.

"Wait." Mei said, "If you've been here for two weeks, and we haven't seen you use any of the bedrooms... then where have you been sleeping?"

As it turned out, Macaque had been spending his nights in the storage closet, curled up in the darkest corner of the room with nothing other than a blanket and a small pillow. The others, of course, deemed this as unacceptable, and pretty much near shoved him into one of the leftover bed rooms.

...Which he didn't even end up using that night, as it ended up being a night where everyone ended up falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows strewn about everywhere.

The next morning, Macaque wasn't there when the others woke up, and there was a brief moment of panic over the monkey's whereabouts-

And then said monkey walked back into the room, using the shadows to help him carry some trays with breakfast on it.

He paused when he registered that everyone was staring at him.

"....What?" He asked, "I woke up first, that means I had breakfast duty, right?"

"I mean.....yeah." MK said, graciously accepting his plate of food. "But, to be honest. I kinda expected you to burn it like Monkey King did."

"Hey, I did that on purpose. For Red Son." Wukong said, "Cause, y'know. He likes charred food. Apparently."

"You did not do that on purpose and we all know it." Pigsy said, "You were just as unaware of Red Son's dietary habits as the rest of us."

"...I literally just woke up and I'm kinda feeling attacked." Red Son mumbled, sitting up. "Should I feel like I'm being attacked?"

"No, you're fine, we're just calling out Wukong again." Spider Queen whispered to him, and Red Son hummed before rolling back over, clearly intending on getting a few more minutes of rest despite the argument starting to occur in the room. Macaque, for his part, remained standing frozen, with MK standing beside him, nibbling at the food on his plate.

"....Should I be concerned about this?" Macaque asked, staring at the fight taking place. MK shrugged.

"Nah." He said, "This is just the same shit as always."