#i don’t think there had been a single moment of my life that wasn’t knee deep in some kind of scandal or problem with my family

[carrionsflower]

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

18+Only, mature content, angst, reader is being stalked, mention of physical & emotional abuse, biker MC, unprotected sex, sex with someone other than reader, exes are everywhere, mention of battling cancer, home invasion, tarot reading, spiritual guidance, mention of a gun, mention of taking someone's life, hurt & comfort. wc: 8.6k

Masterlist Playlist

Summary: Reader and Eddie are very much in love as the world piles on again. Both of their exes are in town, and Craig leaves a disturbing calling card to let reader know he is watching. Steve is properly introduced to Charlene in more ways than one, Astrid tries to protect Steve in the best way she knows how, and we get a peek into what Wayne "Uncle" Munson is thinking

--------

"Wendy let me in, I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims And strap your hands across my engines."

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

I'm on Fire Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

--------

John Gregson sent you a generous down payment for his commissioned painting, and most of it went right to the art store with you to by a roll of canvas, new paints, and brushes. Eddie went with you, and insisted on driving your car, but not before he had to adjust the driver’s seat all the way back so that he wasn’t eating his knees. He found a paint-by-numbers color pack of a dragon for Oliver, and crept up behind you, pretending to be someone else.

“Excuse me, miss? You are so fine,” he whispered in the sketchbook aisle. “Are you single, by chance?”

You checked to each side of you, feigning to look for him. “There’s this one guy I fuck from time to time, but it’s not serious.”

“Oh, is that right?” Eddie tickled your ribs, and then picked you up off your feet, munching down on the side of your neck with his teeth. “You better take it back.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you wiggled free with a laugh that seemed to echo off of the store walls, shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

Eddie wouldn’t let you carry anything on the way out to the car, and you did not miss some of the feminism that left your body in that moment as he held one of the bags in his teeth. The canvas roll was almost too long for the back seat, and you had a moment of panic, but then Eddie figured it out, clapping for himself after and taking a small bow.

The big, scary biker with the tattooed hands and the War Machine insignia kindly reminded you to fasten your seat belt, just as he clicked on his own and slipped his sunglasses on.

“I don’t know, Munson,” you grinned into the sun as he backed out of the parking space. “You’ve been such a help today, there might be some roadhead on the menu.”

He slammed the brakes and snapped his head to look at you, his hair flying, making you get the giggles. “See, now you’ll have to forget I said anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

He continued backing out, checking over his shoulder. “Surprise roadhead could kill a man, baby. You gotta give me some warning.”

So far, it had been the most chill day since before you’d been fired. You were sinking into the routine of “normal” couples, doing mundane chores together, holding hands in public, being sickeningly, adoringly head over heels for each other. And it felt really good. So good, in fact, you could almost forget for a second about all of the shit that had gone wrong, and could possibly go wrong.

Much earlier that morning as you lay curled up naked next to him in bed with your leg over him and your head on his chest, listening to a song by Mother Love Bone pour out softly from the stereo in Eddie’s apartment, he asked what you were thinking.

You’d been quiet for a while, zoning out, touching your fingertips to his as he spread them out to meet yours across the menacing bat tattoo on his chest.

“It’s silly,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder with the side of your mouth. The morning was warm with a soft breeze blowing one of the long, blue curtains out into the room, and above the sound of the music came the rumble of motorcycles rolling into the compound, and electric drill firing in the garage across the way.

“Still,” he rested his head on yours. “I want to hear it. I want to know what goes on in that quirky brain of yours.”

As comfortable as you were with Eddie at that point, you were shy about admitting some of your deep-seated insecurities.  What if you spoke them out loud and they came true? What if you started to let him know what went on in your “quirky”, anxiety riddled brain, and it scared him off?

You decided to take a chance, burying your face a bit more in the indentation of his armpit.  “In the past, whenever I've felt genuine happiness, or everything seemed to be going really well, that’s always when everything would go to shit.  So, I have this fear that—”

“---that you’re going to lose me?” Eddie interrupted softly, sliding his fingers down to intertwine with yours.  

“Well, yeah,” you admitted.  “Exactly that.  Losing you, or something happening to Katie or Steve’s family.  Anyone I care about.”

“The same shit happens to me in my head,” he promised.  “It almost won’t let me enjoy whatever good thing is happening because I’m already thinking about how it could get fucked up. I’m always anticipating the next bad thing.”

“We are a sad pair,” you snorted a laugh. 

“Hey, really though, listen to me,” he squeezed you tighter. “You’re not going to lose me, baby, fuck that.  As long as we tell each other what is going on and we don’t have any secrets, no one can fuck with us.  I won’t let anyone fuck with us.”

You propped up on your forearm to meet his eyes; they were bright brown and earnest.  You swept his bangs to the side with your fingertips. “Well, that’s good to know because I don’t think I’d survive this level of heartbreak.”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” Eddie searched your face, running his knuckle down your cheek.  “And if you break mine, I’ll probably sulk around for the rest of my life, just a shell of a man, playing songs on the street corner for loose change.”

You chuckled and scooted closer to kiss his mouth.  “What are the deal breakers for you in a relationship? Something you could never forgive?”

He squinted curiously at you.  “Are you trying to walk that line, sweetheart?”

“No,” you bit your lip through a smile, but then dropped your head back to the warm skin of his shoulder.  “My deal breaker is cheating. I can forgive a lot of things, but never that.”

Eddie took a big inhale, thinking about this, but then he swallowed hard. “Just the thought of another man touching you, past or present, makes me see red, baby.”

There was a tension in the air as Eddie considered the crushing weight of said betrayal, and you bit at a piece of skin on your thumb, thinking about the complex inner workings of Eddie Munson.

To break the heavy silence, you started crawling on top of him, kissing his neck, working your core against his stiff morning wood.  Eddie held your face and sucked at your bottom lip, running his tongue along the soft skin there, while you pressed the slick of your slit on his cock, arousal already evident.

“Would you really kill someone for me, baby?” You breathed, reminded of how he said he would kill or die for you.

“Without question,” he hissed at your wetness, reaching down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

You sank down quickly, needing all of him with fluttering urgency.  “When I think of someone, I will let you know,” you hushed.  He cursed into your mouth and spanked your ass as you rode him, knowing that this was the only cock you would have inside of you for the rest of your life, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.  

Back in the sunny parking lot outside of the art supply store, Eddie continued on behind the wheel, pausing for a group of people as they strolled into he store, hand on your leg, squeezing your knee as he waited. He angled the car down in front of a clothing store, on his way to exit onto the street, and had to wait for a couple more people to cross.

You weren’t paying attention, too absorbed at the time pawing through the bag of goodies in your lap, fingering the new pastels and linseed oil with glee. But Eddie’s fingers dug into your leg and gripped there in a way that made you glance over at him.

Waiting at the crosswalk, Eddie’s skin drained of color as he watched the people pass in front of the car. You followed his attention: there was an older woman, perhaps 50, two younger girls maybe ages 7 or 8, a pretty blonde girl around 30, and a woman who could have been a supermodel with long, auburn hair, a short denim skirt, and a dragon tattoo on her thigh.

Your attention rose to Eddie and his nostrils flared, blinking a few times, teeth grinding.

For whatever reason, the tension made you nervous. “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

Eddie swallowed, patting your leg a few times, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “It’s nothing sweetheart. I just remembered something I had to do later on, that’s all.”

Not even a full day had passed since you’d both agreed to never to keep anything from each other, and there he was, lying already. He knew that you could tell he was withholding something, which made it even worse. His hope at the time was, if he ignored it, maybe it would go away.

Somehow, Melanie coming into town had almost slipped his mind, until he saw her there with his very own eyes walking with Chrissy, her mom, and her twin daughters. She looked different, but also exactly the same. The difference was that he no longer found her attractive; she might as well of had rotting flesh rolling off her bones for how repulsed he was to see her there in the street. He wasn’t afraid to tell you, he just didn’t want it to be real, he wanted to ignore her until she left town, and you could live in the bliss of never being able to put a face to her.

First of all, Eddie was a horrible liar. It was not hard for you to put the pieces together and realize that he did know one of the women in that group, if not all of them. But, you took one last look at his profile, told him you loved him, and decided to let it go. For now.

----------

A few days earlier, after the incident with Inky, Steve rolled up to the house at dawn to find Robin waiting up at the kitchen table. She was having a cigarette with her coffee, and Robin never smoked. He watched her bite into her thumbnail, chew it off, and then spit it on the floor as he stepped into the room.

“What’s up?” Steve shut the sliding door behind him and locked it. “Where’s Oliver?”

Robin put her finger to her lips to ask him to ask him to keep it down. She saw how he was favoring his freshly bandaged hand, but chose not to ask questions. “Katie is asleep,” she flicked the end of her cig over the ashtray. “Oliver spent the night with Wayne.”

Cautiously, Steve clapped down into the seat across from her, wallet chain hitting first, motioning for her to slide the pack of bargain basement knockoff cigarettes over. He had his own lighter, but she shot the box of matches over to him as well. Striking the match to light his smoke, Steve bucked his chin at the manila envelope she had next to her. “What’s in there?”

Robin brushed her hair off of her face and hunched forward. “Oh it’s just a little something. Might cheer you up.”

She pushed the envelope toward him with the pads of her fingers, both sets of eyes on it as it traveled across the faux wood surface. Now Steve knew exactly what it was when he saw the label on the front but even then, he was riddled with confusion.

“How did you--?”

A part of Steve knew, even though there’s no way he could’ve had any idea where Robin went that night or what she’d said to Tina to get her to sign her rights to Oliver away. Or the gun she’d pointed loaded and proud, letting them know there were only two ways the night could end, and both involved her walking away with those signatures. The saddest part was how quickly Tina had agreed to take the money in exchange for Oliver; there hadn’t even been a glimmer of internal struggle. Robin told herself it was for the best though, and once Oliver was old enough to ask questions, he would never know about that night, or how quickly he’d been given up.

Now, they really were broke, even more than before, and without any safety net to fall back on. But, no one would ever show up and try to take their son away again without facing legal ramifications, and Robin might’ve also let her know that she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in her throat if she ever tried to get sneaky. “If you take Oliver, Steve and I will have nothing to lose. You know what they say about not wanting to fuck with someone who has nothing to lose.”

Steve peeked inside, exhaling a long, hot breath. After sucking on his lip for a few seconds, he raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’re telling me you got her to sign these and you got them notarized?”

“Katie,” Robin squinted and took another drag. The sleeve of her flannel fell down to expose the vine of an ivy tattoo on her forearm.

“She’s a notary? No shit?” he said the last part under his breath, chuckling a bit to himself.

Katie’s old job status as a notary public was a small detail that Robin had been fascinated to discover. Meeting up at a seedy motel in the middle of the night in her pajamas did not put Katie in a particularly compliant mood, but she offered her official services without too much of a fight. In fact, she had to admit later how much it had turned her on to find her girlfriend holding two people at gunpoint like that. It made her feel like she was in an episode of 21 Jump Street.

Steve rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand. The other hand, the one Astrid had cleaned and put a fresh bandage on for good measure, had just been used as a deadly weapon and pummeled a guy to the brink of death just the day before. He’d do it again in a heartbeat because no one threatened his family and got away with it. “Jesus, fuck, Rob. You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, you better,” she snorted a laugh, and then, softly,“I’d do anything for Ollie. And you. You know this,” and then she smashed the cigarette out in the ashtray. She couldn’t look him in the eye for fear the floodgates would open.

A sob hitched in his chest and he had to clear his throat. He really was on some real emotional bullshit lately and he made a fist with his good hand and banged it on the table, trying to collect himself. “Ditto.”

Robin got up and stretched her arms back with a yawn. “I’m going back to bed for an hour. You at the shop this afternoon?”

“Until late, yeah,” Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of the envelope. “I’m working on that chest piece for Thor.” Thor was one of the other Coffin Kings, a huge, beastly blonde dude with a long, braided beard.

Robin braced her hands on the back of the chair. “You thought anymore about going to Scott’s wedding this weekend?”

“Scott, you mean Daphne’s Scott?” Steve shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it at all, actually. There’s no way I’m going to that.”

Steve had only met Scott once at one of their barbecues, and Daphne knew Robin because her daughter and Oliver were the same age, but the last place Steve wanted to be stuck at was a wedding for two people he barely knew, or any wedding at all for that matter.

“You sure?” Robin craned her neck. “There’s going to be an open bar at the reception.”

“Nah, I got a thing on Saturday,” Steve waved his hand. “Take Katie, why don’t you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Robin worked her neck from side to side. “What do you have on Saturday?”

For some reason, a voice inside of Steve whispered that he should keep his plans vague. “Body guard gig,” he offered in a bored tone. He didn’t have to ask to know that Robin must’ve had to have paid off Tina somehow, and now they’d need some extra cash more than ever. What he wanted to do was change the subject. “Any word from Susie or Dustin?”

“Now that you mention it,” Robin scratched her cheek. “She’s due any day now and no, I haven’t heard a word. I should’ve checked in, I’ve just been out of my mind lately.”

“Dustin knows we’re in the thick of it,” Steve assured her. “We’re the first ones on the call list when she does go into labor, but I’ll give him a ring this afternoon to say hey.” He yawned, blinking his tired eyes a few times. “Should I take Ollie to the shop with me?”

“No, after Wayne drops him off, I got him,” Robin stole a curious look at Steve, knowing full well that there was something he wasn’t telling her. She was too exhausted in that moment to ask any questions as she turned to head down the hall. “Take a shower, dingus. You look like death warmed over.”

-----------

Wayne always kept his shotgun up high in a locked closet whenever the kid came to stay, but when he returned from dropping Ollie off with his parents, he stood there at the open closet looking around for a minute. He fingered through the flannels and old jackets, skidding the wire hangers along the wooden dowel, until he found the frayed denim edge he was looking for. He yanked back the line of clothes so he could pull the article of clothing out and take a look at it.

It was his original denim with the sleeves cut off, known as a cut, or Kutte, with the Coffin Kings MC insignia on the back. The matching insignia among club members were all “cut” from the same cloth. He held it up and wiped his hand down it a few times, as if to dust it off, looking over the worn and road weary patches, including the one with his nickname “Uncle” over the pocket, because he’d been an honorary uncle to so many, including Steve and Astrid.

He took it over to the mirror on the back wall of his bedroom, set the hanger on the chair and pulled the denim on over his white tee, adjusting the collar, working his shoulders through. Chemo had taken a lot of his size, and so it hung a bit loose, but the shoulder muscles were still there, and he flexed his hands, knowing they could still deftly maneuver a blade or a gun, just like the old days.

Sticking out of the side of the mirror was was a black and white photo that had been bent in half and wrinkled over time. A photo of a much younger Wayne, Astrid’s mother Evelyn with her jet black hair over her shoulder in a braid, and Steve and Eddie as little kids; not much older than Oliver. The boys wanted to be a part of the life so bad, even then, that Evie made them their own vests, complete with Munson and Harrington patches and the Coffin Kings skull on the back. Evie had her hand on Wayne’s chest in the photo, gazing up at him, and Wayne’s arm was around her shoulders, but his eyes were on Steve, his mouth open about to say something. Steve was making a face, his mouth in a grimace to expose two missing front teeth, both of his arms up, flexing to pretend he had muscles. Eddie was more stoic, his expression set without emotion as he stared into the camera, hands in fists at his sides, feet braced wide. Off to the side was young Astrid. She was a few years older than the boys, but still a baby. Wayne remembered she didn’t want to be in the photo, but Steve started acting out to get her to come over, and there she was, face slightly blurred as she tried to move away, but a smile on her face nonetheless.

Wayne met his eyes in the mirror; windows to a soul that was familiar but set in a face he no longer recognized. He thought about his panhead motorcycle collecting dust at the storage unit across town. He thought about how badly he wanted to protect Oliver from the horrors of this world, from the MC life. The boy liked to paint and draw and bake things, and Wayne didn’t understand that either, but he didn’t see the lust for danger in his eyes like he had with Steve and Eddie; Steve, especially. Like he wanted to turn the world on its head and dump it out to see how it worked. Maybe he had the love of a good mom for that, the kind of mom that stuck around. He thought about all of the things this disease had already taken from him, but it wouldn’t take this. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

-----------

You’d stayed at Eddie’s for the past two nights in a row, and even though he would have you there with him every night if he had his way, you needed to set up your art room and take advantage of one of your afternoon off to work on John’s commission before you went back to the Hammer. You needed to stretch and frame the large canvas first, a meticulous process that took place in the garage, and then put up painters plastic around the art room so you wouldn’t flick paint around on the walls of the rental.

Eddie had brought you to work and picked you up the night before, and he took you home that next day in the tow truck so he could head to a job after. He popped in at the diner on the way to grab two coffee’s to go in tall white, Styrofoam cups. The older, married waitress there named Donna had a crush on both him and Wayne, and always gave him free stuff, for which they tipped handsomely. He came out of the diner holding the two cups up, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Things with Donna and I are getting serious, just so you know,” Eddie climbed up into the cab and passed your coffee to you, and then leaned over for a kiss once he was behind the wheel. “Black with two sugars for my lady.”

“Well, I don’t blame her one bit,” you clicked your tongue, leaning over to smell the fresh brew through the mouth opening in the lid and feel the steam on your skin, snuggling down into one of Eddie’s hooded sweatshirts. “Now I need to find an older, married boyfriend, and we’ll be even.”

What was meant to be a joke hit a little different because of the whole John Gregson situation, but Eddie snorted a chuckle as he put his cup in the holder on the dash. “You’re gonna turn me into a homicidal maniac if you’re not careful, sweetheart.”

As he got back on the main road toward your place, a glimmer caught your eye. The guitar pic on the ball chain hanging from the rear view mirror had always been there, but now there was a little, silver worry ring on the chain too, hanging flush with the red pick. It was the worry ring you usually wore on your thumb that you’d thought you had lost weeks ago. You reached up to take a better look and make sure.

“Baby, what is my ring doing here?”

Eddie took a wide turn, sucking his cheek, realizing he was properly caught red handed. “You left it on the nightstand that first time you came over,” he answered.

Your mouth fell open to goad him. “Why didn’t you tell me you found it?”

Eddie’s eyes found the ring in question where it swayed with the movement of he vehicle. “I don’t know, I think I meant to, but then I kinda liked having it in here with me. Whenever I look at it, I think about you. Something stupid like that.”

Your heart rushed, sending waves of heat through your veins. You were staring at his profile now, unable to look away, absolutely, wholly filled to the brim with love for this man.

“You really got it bad for me, don’t cha Munson?”

He offered a small nod and a shrug, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

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

It was almost 9am by the time Eddie dropped you off at the duplex. Katie was already at the school, and your orange tabby cat Charlie was in a mood, so you sat on the couch with him for a bit while you finished your coffee. Although Charlie loved affection, he was normally such a chill dude, but that morning he didn’t want to leave your side even after you put his favorite gravy bits breakfast in his food dish. You had been gone for a couple nights in a row, but you always came by during the day to check on him, so it wasn’t as if he’ been abandoned. It was almost as if he was trying to tell you something.

You stroked his ears back and kissed the top of his head. “Tell me, my boy, what’s on your mind?” But he only meowed, nuzzling closer, massaging his claws into your leg.

You ate some granola and dropped your bag on the floor at the end of your bed without turning the light on, heading straight into the bathroom for a much needed shower. You let the water get as hot as you could handle it, noticing the bruises on your hips for the first time from the way Eddie man-handled you during sex. You smiled against the stream of water at the memory.

Charlie was sitting on the sink with his tail curled around his feet when you opened the shower curtain, staring you down. “Close your eyes,” you told the cat as you clutched in the air for the green bath towel that was hooked over the metal dowel.

At least, you thought it was hanging there, but now you were grabbing at air because it was on the floor. You wiped water from your eyes and snapped another look at Charlie before you bent down to pick it up. “Did you do this?”

You were mumbling to yourself, wrapping the towel around your body and stepped out onto the mat. You remembered closing the bathroom door, but now it was open and you imagined that Charlie had pushed it open with his brute strength. You paused to put some moisturizer on your face, and then turned to open the door the rest of the way and face the bed, and that was when you realized there was something terribly wrong.

The bed was made; everything neatly tucked, comforter folded back at an angle, as an invitation. Had it been that way before you went into the shower? You wouldn’t know because you hadn’t turned the light on to look. The pile of clean laundry you’d thrown on the messy bed just the day before were nowhere to be found. You weren’t freaking out yet, not when you knew that Katie went into turbo cleaning fits when she was stressed, and there had been a lot going on with Robin lately. But it wasn’t like her to come into your space while you were gone and mess with your things.

A fear began to bubble inside of you as you clutched the towel tighter around your body, senses heightened as you inched over to check down the hall and in the closet. You were starting to feel so afraid that your hands got cold as shock began to set in preemptively.

With trembling fingers, you took hold of the wood knob and pulled open the top drawer of your dresser, only to jump back, covering your mouth to try and trap the scream that erupted.

Your underwear and socks were neatly folded into color coded rows. You yanked out the drawer under that and the next, only to find the same symmetry of tediously folded clothing. The second drawer fell all the way out and crashed to the carpet. In a frenzy, you dove forward and started scooping all of the clothing out of the drawers, yanking them all to the floor, making them a mess, throwing them around the room, tears running hot down your cheeks. You didn’t stop until the bottom drawer was empty; the drawer that had a few pieces of lingerie and silky pajama sets, all of it had been sorted and folded in the exact same way.

You covered your nose and mouth with your hands and sat down on the bed, taking sharp inhales, adrenaline preparing you for some kind of fight, flight, or fawn: whichever would keep you from eminent danger. There was and ocean in your ears.

You did not do this.

Katie would not do this.

The only person in the world who would ever do this

was your maniacal, neat freak ex fiance Craig.

Now you could hear a footstep creak on the wood planks in the hall just outside your bedroom and from behind you on the bed, Charlie hissed.

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

Eddie didn’t have to take the long way back by your street with the old Chrysler on the back of the tow, but he did anyway, just because he liked being in your vicinity. Much like the “old days” when he would ride by your work, back when he thought you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

As he turned onto the street, he could see the front of your duplex on the corner, but his smile faded when he saw the front door was open. Not open just a crack, but open all the way, exposing the interior or the house, and you didn’t have a screen door, so he wouldn’t imagine you’d leave it that way on purpose. What if your cat got loose? He took a sharper turn than he should have to line the truck and pull along the opposite side of the street to park it, doing his best not to crush your neighbors garbage can, all the while keeping his eyes on the entrance, thinking maybe you’d appear and there would be some explanation.

He paused before crossing the street as a guy in a hunter green utility vehicle inched its way to the stop sign. The driver stared Eddie down as he went at a crawl, and Eddie was taken aback to be aggressively eyeballed by a stranger, but he returned the heated glare, bucking his chin. “Fuck’s your problem, man?” Eddied shouted, shrugging his hands in the air. The guy gave an open mouth smile, and made a motion of dragging his fingers across his throat, just before he stomped on the gas and flew through the stop sign, taking a right. Normally, Eddie would’ve taken more notice of the details of the license plate and whatnot, but his attention quickly returned to your open door, taking long strides to the opposite sidewalk.

Eddie looked around before he stepped inside, hand on the hilt of his knife. “Baby? Are you in here?” He asked it softly so it wouldn’t scare you. “It’s Eddie. Your door is wide open.”

His ears followed the sound of things being tossed around, and something heavy hitting the ground with a wooden crack. But then you screamed and his heart tightened as he bolted down the hall.

“Baby?” He entered your bedroom to find all of your dressers drawers open, and two on the ground, clothes scattered everywhere. You jumped when you saw him, scrambling back with a shriek, clutching a towel to the front of your body so that you wouldn’t be exposed.

You were afraid of him, or whoever you thought he was. Cheeks wet with tears, eyes wild like a feral animal caught in a trap. You backed all the way to the wall with your hand out, palm up, before you realized who it was.

“Eddie?” Relief flooded through you, and you dropped the towel, stark naked, to run into his arms, a sob choking in your throat. The feel of his denim and cool of his belt bucket against your skin helped to soothe your nerves, taking a deep inhale of the woodsy spice scent of his aftershave.

Eddie’s mind was reeling as he held you tight; one hand cupped behind your neck and the other at your back rubbing in slow circles. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

You blinked hard, wishing he’d never had to see you like this, wishing you’d never have to tell him about Craig and why you were so afraid of him. You had no proof that your ex had actually been in your house, but also---you had all the proof you needed. This kind of sick fuck head game was right up Craig’s alley. But how had he found you? How would you ever get rid of him now? You didn’t want Eddie to have to get involved with this mess. Sure, Eddie was tough, but Craig was certifiable, and you were well aware that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you in his life.

You buried your face in Eddie’s chest and wrapped your arms as tight as possible, wishing you could both run away and disappear and not have to deal with any of this.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie said in a lower octave than normal, his blood boiling. “Who did this to you?”

-----------

That afternoon on Friday, Steve went to meet the woman he’d be doing security for the next day. He gave a low whistle as he rolled up to the main gates, “holy shit,” he mumbled, pinching a smoke between his lips, lighting it while his bike idled and he pushed the buzzer to announce himself. He combed his fingers through his hair as he rode in over a blood stain that was embedded in the cement, shooting a look to the 10 car garage, wondering what kind of beauties were in there and hoping he’d get to drive one.

“Be careful,” Astrid had warned a few nights ago when he stayed at her place. She shuffled her Tarot deck and did a quick reading for him. She tapped her finger on one of the cards. “I don’t like the look of this. I think someone with a dark heart has their evil eye on you.” Without looking up at him, she continued. “I need to do a protection spell before you go.”

“Does that protection spell include you riding my face?” Steve scooted his chair forward, lunging to kiss her temple, but she shrugged him off, trying to concentrate.

Her eyes were sweeping over the cards she’d just pulled for him with a tense bundle of lines between her thick, dark eyebrows. “I’m serious Steve. It’s someone with power who wants to own you, and I think the offer will be very tempting. Think Satan in a Sunday hat.”

She pulled two more cards. Her eyes flicked from Steve to the table several times. “Are you going to some kind of formal event this weekend?”

Steve winced. “Not if I can help it, why?”

This gift that Astrid had was much deeper than deciphering the magic in a deck; she had always been able to see beyond the veil of the known world. It was her gift that kept her lonely, and more often than not, she saw it as a curse.

She sat back in her seat to look the cards over again for an unnerving amount of time. Her intuition was foggy, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what would go wrong yet, but there were multiple threats on the horizon and her gut told her it was time to circle the wagons.

Steve’s tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth. “Don’t leave me hangin’ here, darlin’. Do I get kidnapped by a bunch of circus clowns, or what?”

Her eyes locked onto his, letting him know she was serious. “Watch your back this weekend, Stevie.”

He took her hand. “Don’t I always, sweetheart?”

He thought about Astrid’s words as he wound the bike around to park at the front door, exhaling smoke as he flicked the cigarette to the side. He slid his sunglasses up on top of his head, taking in the expanse of the entryway, heavy boots plodding up the steps. At his wrist on a thin leather band was the tiny charm and gemstone Astrid had made him wear after she dowsed him in sage smoke and said a bunch of words he didn’t understand.

Charlene greeted him in nothing but the tiniest of bikinis, a straw sun hat, and a blue and red kimono, and Steve couldn’t help but adjust himself in his jeans at the way her breasts were almost spilling out of the tiny yellow top.

She offered him a drink out by the pool under one of the umbrellas, and Steve accepted a beer.

“I should thank you again for bailing me out,” Steve took a drink, glad that his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses because he couldn’t’ take them off her heaving rack; the way the sweat trickled down her tan cleavage. A pool boy in tight, cut off jean shorts was cleaning debris from the surface of the crystal clear pool with a net at the end of a long handle.

“Anytime,” Charlene was so very charming when she wanted to be. “A friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve took a generous gulp and put his forearms on the table. “Yeah? You know my buddy Eddie?”

Charlene flipped her blonde hair off of her shoulder. “Has he never mentioned me? We go way back.”

“Never,” Steve said without hesitation, making Charlene frown. “Not that I remember anyway. But Eddie and I don’t talk as much anymore. We’ve been too fucking busy.”

That seemed to lighten her expression, but the thought did occur to Steve to wonder how Eddie got word to her that he was in jail? He was pretty sure he didn’t even know about what happened until the next day. But, fuck it. Who cares how she found out? He just wanted to get this bodyguard gig over with and get his cash.

They agreed on a price for an evening of Steve’s services, and then Charlene led him inside to guide him up the big, lavish staircase to a guest bedroom where she had a gray and white suit waiting for him. She unzipped the black Armani sleeve it was in and Steve gulped. His mind immediately raced thinking about how much he could pawn it for on Sunday if she let him keep it.

“My cousin is getting married tomorrow,” she perched at the end of the floral bedspread, watching him pick the suit up to admire it. “I guessed at your size, but I can have a tailor meet us here before we leave if it needs fixing.”

Sure, Steve had been a bouncer forever, and had worked as an extra bodyguard a few times for visiting celebrities, but a personal bodyguard and escort for a woman like Charlene? Never. He wasn’t even sure why she needed protection for a wedding; looking down at the suit, he felt more like a gigolo than hired muscle.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s perfect,” and then he eyeballed the wedding photo on the vanity of a much younger Charlene with some other dude. “Where is your husband these days? Why can’t he take you?”

Charlene stretched back so that she was spread out on the bed, the nipple of one breast poking out from under the thin material. Her body was toned and supple and not at all what he expected a woman in her mid 40’s to look like. “My husband leaves town a lot for work. He doesn’t ask what I do, and I don’t ask what he does.”

“Fair enough,” Steve flicked his tongue over his gold tooth, watching the way she arched her back, exposing herself to him, making him palm his erection through his denim.

“For instance,” Charlene reached behind her neck to undo the tie for her bikini top, pulling it down, letting him see the expensive titties in all their glory. “He left yesterday and won’t be home until next week.”

So, of course Steve fucked her. He came between her tits and gave her a pearl necklace made of his cum, liking the way it dripped down her throat. He fucked her ass because she begged him to, using only spit for lube, her face pressed into the mattress, until she came, and then Steve milked a few more bursts of cum onto her backside with a grunt.

He liked getting paid and getting laid at the same time. He felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for a perfect situation like this to fall into his lap.

---------

Eddie paced at the doorway, flexing his hands into fists, “so this Craig fucker came here to what? Terrorize you? Try and get you back? I will put a bullet in his skull.”

You gave Eddie the cliff notes version of your relationship with Craig while you got dressed. How you thought he was fun and charming at first, but once you moved in with him, things got scary. He wouldn’t let you talk to your friends or go anywhere without him. When you first got the courage to leave, he broke into the house you were staying at in the middle of the night and put a knife to your throat. He’d been honorably discharged from the military and used his connections in the police force to bypass the protection order you filed on him. He was emotionally and physically abusive and stalked you for two years before you were able to make it to Hawkins without much more than the clothes on your back, and Eddie was reeling with how bad he wanted to get his hands on this guy. It made him want to start going up and down every street looking for him, which was not totally out of the question.

He had to go outside on the back patio for a smoke and you followed him. You sat down in one of the camp chairs on the concrete slab facing a patch of lawn that was maintained by the owner of the duplex, but Eddie stayed on his feet. You watched the muscles in his jaw flex as he frowned into his cigarette, his thoughts going to dark and dangerous places.

From what you told him about what the guy looked like and the description of his car, that was the dude who had stared Eddie down earlier. He didn’t want to alarm you anymore than you already were by telling you that he saw him, that the fucker had probably been in your house while you were taking a shower. He couldn’t have you staying at the duplex anymore until he could make sure that creep was long gone, and by long gone, he meant he was ready to put him in the dirt. If anyone could find him, Eddie could. He had family of the Kings who worked at police dispatch, and he had eyes all over town, from other tow truck drivers to every member of several MC’s. If this guy thought he was so sneaky, Eddie could do him one better.

Eddie was in a bad mood, cracking his knuckles, thinking about how much he would enjoy hurting this guy, when he heard a sniffle and realized you were crying.

“Hey, hey,” he snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray Katie had there for the smoking she did when she was buzzed, and got down on his knees in front of you. He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb, holding your jaw with gentle force so you would look at him. “This guy, he’s not gonna get near you again, alright? You’re gonna stay with me until I know you’re safe.” He cupped his hand around your neck and pulled your forehead to his. “Hey, I love you. You trust me when I say I’ll protect you, right?”

“It’s not that,” your eyes went to the Munson’s Garage patch on the front of his light blue work shirt. You kept your forehead pressed to his because you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Craig is dangerous, baby. I mean, he’s really crazy. I don’t want you getting hurt or---”

Eddie sat back on his heels, tilting his head to meet you eyes. “And you don’t think I’m crazy? Baby. I know you get the fluffy side of Eddie but I can do dangerous and crazy with the best of them. Okay? That’s all I’ve ever done. No one is going to fuck with my girl.”

His chocolate eyes searched you, needing to know that you believed you were safe.

You gnawed at your lip, eyes dewy and bloodshot. “I just wish this wasn’t happening,” you dropped your head again, mouth jerking down with impending sobs. “I wish we could run away.”

“Sorry baby but, fuck that,” Eddie stood. “You had to run from this guy once, he’s not gonna get the satisfaction of scaring you off this time. You’ve got me now.”

He squatted again, motioning for you to give him your hand and then he held it tight, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “And Steve and Robin and Wayne, and the whole Coffin Kings MC, baby. I want you to trust me. This fucker will be sorry he ever stepped foot in Hawkins.”

You slotted your hands on either side of his neck at his jawline, pulling him in, and the salt of your tears mingled in the kiss, your mouth opening wide to take him deeper. Unexpected moans of desperation escaped both of you, hands greedy for purchase on each other’s parts. You made it back inside the house just in time for Eddie to dive his hand down the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, fucking two fingers up inside you, stifling your cry of pleasure with his mouth.

You scrambled to undo his jeans, pushing them down his hips. “I need you so bad, baby. Fuck me.”

There was no time to make it to the bedroom, you broke the kiss only long enough to bend over the kitchen island, shorts down, arching your ass up. Eddie swiped his cock along your glistening core only once before burying it inside of you groaning at the sensation. “Holy fuck, I love you,” Eddie murmured, proceeding to fuck his entire length inside, pulling your slit apart with his thumbs so that he could watch himself enter you.

You bucked back against him, meeting his urgency, biting your lip through hungry whimpers. Eddie shoveled his hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back, choking you with soft pressure while he other hand braced at your hip and he fucked you hard. He preferred to look at you when he was about to cum, but the two of you were frantic, and he was already close. Clinging to the counter, the wet slapping sounds of Eddie stretching you out were about to throw you over the edge. His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, dipping inside for you to suck them.

Eddie’s hips locked onto you as he came, and the sensation made your walls flutter, gripping him in a way that extended his orgasm, cursing, both of you crying out, able to forget about the worries of the world if only for those precious moments as you rode the high.

---------

At a decent chain Motel by a truck stop near the highway, Craig Ludlow paid for a week in advance and sat in the dark puffing a cigar by the window with the curtain tightly closed. An episode of The Twilight Zone was on the TV, and it was the only light but for the golden glow from the bathroom in the hall. On the table next to him was a razor blade on a mirror with white powder residue, a shot glass empty of its Jim Beam, and a handgun.

There had been an ugly landscape painting on the opposite wall, but he took it down to make room for his work. There was a big cork board there now, a place for all of the information he had on you and your little biker friends. Steve’s mugshot was up there, along with one of Eddie from 10 years earlier. Information on Wayne, Katie, the Velvet Hammer, every person or place you’d touched since you’d been to town. Somehow you’d slipped through his fingertips, and oh god, how he had missed you. Being a part of your life and knowing what you were up to was a part of who he was now, and he’d been feeling lost without it.

He planned use his connections to get in with Chief Hopper and make sure your new biker boyfriend had the law down his throat around every turn. Why was it so much to ask for you to let him love you? Your house was a mess, your bed not even made. Nothing in your drawers had been folded. It was obvious that you needed him and missed him and just didn’t know how to ask. You had always been such a prideful, silly goose.

A girl named Shari was working the night shift at the motel when she noticed, not for the first time, how odd the guy who checked into room 11 was. Shari happened to be the old lady of a Coffin Kings member named Jester, and she would tell him all about it, including the make and color of the SUV he drove, over the phone when he called to check up on her that evening. Coincidentally, War Machine had just let everyone know to keep an eye out for a creep of the same description who was stalking his girl. Jester headed over to make sure Shari was okay and waited in the shadows near the truck stop on his chopper, watching the lights from the TV flicker in room 11, keeping an eye on this guy so he could follow if he took off. Keeping him in his crosshairs to see if he should take care of this guy himself before he passed the word on to Eddie.

PART 14

-----

thank you so much for reading, my loves! Don't forget to tip your favorite stories/writers by commenting and/or reblogging ❤️

-----

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer @manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare @chaoticgood-munson @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @falling-solar-system @secretdryrose @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @lilpotatobean2 @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales @layla-loves-ed @rhirojo

[look-at-the-soul]

Hi! Ok so I don't know if I late to your Adele Song Tribute (if I am that's totally alright!) but if you still have space what about something for Tommy or Jonathan with the song Skyfall? Maybe something about reader standing by her man/comforting him when everything seems to be falling part? I think it's one of my favourite songs of hers and not just because I love the James Bond movie of the same name😂 you totally don't have to to though if you don't want too❤️❤️

Hey Addie! Don’t worry you’re never late 🤗 thank you so much for sending in this request! It’s the first one of the ones I got that I started worked with because I particularly LOVE that song and watching the performance to get inspiration is something I really enjoy! ♥️ so I hope you like this 🥰

The lyrics for the song are in italics. As I was debating whether what background story to choose from to develop this story, I had like a moment flashing before my eyes… I definitely enjoyed writing a dark Tommy story for “The way to a man’s heart” but the thought kept coming back to me, how about the opposite? How about someone who actually loves him and wants to help him and his family? So I turned everything upside down and came up with this.

Adele song: Skyfall

Skyfall

Tommy Shelby x reader (smut)

This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Silence.

That’s all that filled the halls.

For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen

Y/N took a deep and shaky breath to build some courage and walked towards the love of her life.

Tommy had been staring at the road the police cars took after arresting Polly, Arthur, John and Michael, but they were long gone.

She’d never forget the look in their faces as they were processing what was happening; everything was caos, the people she considered her chosen family yelling, cursing Tommy, trying to find a way out. She felt useless.

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

Esme and Linda were looking at Tommy with such anger, that it made her heart ache for him. Jaws clenched, pointing fingers at him as they were escorted out of the house.

We will stand tall

Face it all together

Let the sky fall

Softly she touched his shoulder to let him know she was close.

“Tom.” She could hardly even her own voice. “Come.”

It took a huge strength from her to snap Tommy out of his trance.

“Frances can you please prepare me a tea for Mr. Shelby? Lavender or Valerian Root… double.”

“Right away Madame.” The maid nodded and rushed towards the kitchen.

“I need to be alone.” Tommy mumbled as he stood in front of the staircase.

“No.” She stated firmly. “I’m -” her voice broke down a bit, “I’m right here for you Tom.”

“Y/N please,” he replied in that warning tone he used when he was about to loose his patience, “I’m not a very good company at the moment.”

Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

She could see the pain in his eyes, and it was the hardest thing to endure.

Tommy had stepped up for his family since a very young age, he worked really hard for everyone, put everything single member of the family before him or his needs… it was time to make him a priority.

She couldn’t look another way and pretend he was alright.

Because he wasn’t, but he didn’t know how to ask for help either.

With all the love she held in her heart for this man she kneeled before him, Tommy didn’t lift his head as it was hanging close to his knees, he looked defeated.

“You got this, Tom, love,” gently but with a firm hand, Y/N lifted his chin to make him look at her, “this seems like a very dark time and that everything’s going the wrong way, but you always find a way to make it better, you always find a way out.”

“They hate me, Y/N as if they needed one more reason… there was nothing I could do to stop them from going to fucking jail.”

“I know darling.”

“All of this…” he extended his arms while looking around the room, “money, power, and for what? They’re in a fucking prison cell, the size of a shoebox. Someone else paid the judges and police more than I did.”

Where you go, I go

What you see, I see

“That’s where you’re wrong, my darling… you can use it to get your position back, if they got your family in prison and they want to play dirty? But you can play smarter than your enemies, I know you will get your family out of jail soon.”

That seemed to work on him, his features were softer, his shoulders weren’t so tense.

“What would I do without you? Ey?” His thumb outlined her cheek.

“Drive Frances crazy?” Y/N joked earning a small chuckle from Tommy that felt like the sweetest thing ever. “Now, I know it’s almost impossible, but have some rest, it will help you think better in the morning.”

“Will it work if I say no?” Tommy tried, knowing the answer before he even opened his mouth.

“Absolutely not.” She slapped his arm lightly before extending her arms towards him to ask for help to get up.

Getting rid of his suit jacket she placed it carefully on the chair, then Tommy let her unbutton his vest and shirt, but first she needed to get rid of the holster and gun.

His mind was going down in a spiral with worry, fears, the monsters inside his head, the tunnel closing up while he tried to reach the stairs to get out… but there right next to him was a woman who trusted him, who believed in him, who was trying to be the light in his darkness.

The only one he could trust to disarm him, both physically and emotionally.

Before he knew it, she tucked him in bed now only wearing his shorts, then she took a cigarette and the matches and lighted it for him, knowing so well he needed a smoke.

“I won’t take long, don’t go anywhere.” She requested right before pressing her full lips to his.

There was only one way to make that mind of him go numb.

He needed to think straight to choose his next move, but he wouldn’t be able to do so when he was in that altered state.

So she removed her skirt and blouse, applied some perfume and subtle lipstick and walked out of the bathroom wearing only her intimate pieces of clothing, a silky short in pale pink with a touch of black lace and matching bra.

As she slowly and tentatively walked towards the empty side of the bed, Tommy was under some kind of spell, his eyes devouring her body.

He was in the same position she left him; the sheets around his waist, bare chest and leaning against the headboard.

Still looking vulnerable after the horrible events of the day, but in his eyes she found a small flame starting to grow with each step she took. As it grew Tommy licked his lips in preparation of what was coming, he was aware of the power Y/N held over him once the bedroom door was closed.

His mind was already in blank as she straddled him, her fingers running up and down his chest. Tommy’s hands immediately circled her waist as he looked up with adoration in his eyes.

“Y/N what are you doing?” Tommy asked in a whisper, his body reacting as she rocked her hips slightly, tempting him, barely brushing against his member.

“Taking off my clothes.” Y/N replied in an innocent voice as if it wasn’t obvious.

Tommy groaned in pleasure as her upper body wasn’t covered anymore. He only dared to close his eyes a moment as she took off his glasses very carefully and placed it on his nightstand. He hissed as she took again her previous spot on him, leaning down to finally give him a proper and deep kiss.

As his mouth explored her neck and collarbone, his hands removed her underwear. A moment later, she was helping him out of his shorts. The atmosphere getting heated rapidly… it wasn’t long before Y/N was rocking her hips back and forth, teasing Tommy, just allowing the tip of his cock inside of her body, as Y/N moved an inch down only to move up again almost all the way out. He protested and tried to move her body down again, he needed her warm walls envelope him.

I know I'd never be me

Without the security

Of your loving arms

“Fuck… Y/N.” He moaned and to her it was the most beautiful sound.

But she wasn’t going to give in, just as Tommy tried to grind her against his hard member, she moved up again. The burning feeling between her legs only adding more pleasure.

“Not yet dear.” She enjoyed the half empty feeling of just having his tip inside and decided to change her pace and angle by making circles with her hips.

Tommy was weak when it came to her, there was no use in trying to deny it, but when it involved her naked, he would do anything she wanted him to.

“Please… I can’t hold it.” She noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead, how tense his jaw was, his beautiful blue eyes closed and felt the rhythm of his heart against her palm.

That’s when she finally in a fluid moment took all of him, his eyes snapped open and a low fuck escaped his lips as he could only focus on the fluttering feeling around him. Y/N controlled her movements to prolong her own pleasure. Throwing her head back she gave in the feeling of being connected so intimately to Tommy, hitting the sweet spot inside of her over and over and suddenly watching him with his mouth hanging open, the veins on his neck pulsing, groaning and trying to not come undone before her it was too much.

“Don’t hold back.” Y/N encouraged him as she guided one of his hands to her center, where she needed him, his skilled fingers set her on fire in mere seconds and they both reached the climax together.

***

By the end of the night, Tommy was exhausted, Y/N noticed when the rhythm of his breathing changed and he stopped clearing his sore throat after too many cigarettes. She didn’t dare to move to make sure from her current position; head resting on his chest, his arm around her waist. But at least she achieved her main goal… make him feel tired enough to get some sleep.

She knew he would deal with everything in the morning with a clear head, but for now she only wanted to enjoy the feeling of his lean body relaxed, his deep breaths helping her to relax as well.

Keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand

And we'll stand

The following morning when Y/N opened her eyes, she noticed Tommy wasn’t in bed with her but she could hear him moving around the bathroom so picking his undershirt from the floor, she tiptoed towards him finding Tommy tucking his shirt inside his pants.

“Morning Mr. Shelby, slept well?”

“Like a baby, you wore me out.” There was a hint of a smile, before returning to his usual serious expression.

“I’m coming with you to the office.” Y/N announced, but before Tommy could protest, she added; “think you probably need some extra hands these days.”

Tommy swallowed watching her strip down to enter the shower. “Thank you.”

She’d choose to tease him for accepting help so easily, but given the circumstances she decided to pass on and hurry up, without his family around the work and papers would pile up.

“Can you take over Polly’s calendar?” Tommy asked as they rushed towards the door.

“Sure.”

“Ada will help us as well, I need to go out during lunch though, I asked Michael to do something but…” he trailed off and let the words hanging in the air.

As the car left Arrow House, Y/N squeezed his hand in an attempt to give Tommy some reassurance. On their way to the Shelby headquarters, Y/N helped him sign a couple of documents and a letter, as the ride went in silence, she knew he was already making a plan so she decided to give him time and space to do what he did best.

As soon as Tommy crossed the door Lizzie and other secretaries and employees were trying to figure out what would happen now, uncertainty decorating their features. Everyone following his instructions, not asking questions, they were just obeying his orders, he was back to being the boss once more, not showing an ounce of emotion, of course he wouldn’t show the vulnerable side Y/N saw the previous night.

Y/N marched to the kitchen in silence to prepare him some tea.

“This is a mess, how did you handled him last night?” Ada asked leaning against the table.

“As best as he let me.” Y/N sighed. “I think he’ll need something stronger, but Polly keeps the booze locked and I don’t know where her keys are.”

“I need to go through Arthur’s papers later, if I find something, I’ll give it to you.” Ada proposed in a low tone, still shocked.

“I’m planing to pay Polly a visit, she might need a change of clothes and other things, would you come with me?”

“The safe combination wont work, Y/N I need you to open it.” Tommy appeared out of breath, he looked like he had been moving furniture around and it was only past eight o’clock.

“Alright I’ll take that as my cue to go.” Ada left them with her own cup of tea, she had a long day ahead and knew when to stay away from her brother.

Pouring the two cups, Y/N gave Tommy his to try to keep him busy as he was looking over her shoulder, as if with that she would be able to open the safe faster.

“What’s so urgent?” She didn’t understand, Tommy had already paid for protection for his family while they were in jail. That was something.

But the combination she was using didn’t work either and Tommy was growing impatient.

“Hang on, Pol told me something about a picture.” Y/N clicked her fingers and started opening the back of a frame that was sitting on Polly’s desk, hidden behind a photo of Michael, there was a paper with the new combination.

“Why the hell did she choose to hide combination there?” Tommy complained, shaking his head.

“Because no one would think of opening a photo frame?” Y/N chuckled and left him to start organizing the things she would be helping around with.

First she started to make a list of the things that were needed at the office, then she got busy with the car spares of the upcoming shipments which kept her busy most of the morning.

The following weeks happened exactly like that, super busy days by keeping the books in order, registering the accountability made her feel exhausted by the end of the day and her feet were sore when she got involved in dispatching the Scotch whiskey. She could barely realize when it was lunch time and before she knew it, it was already nine o’clock and Tommy took some papers to keep working from home.

Rubbing his eyes, he locked the door to his office and walked through the empty property, all employees were gone home for the day, except for one; the most loyal one, the one who stepped in and didn’t ask what she needed to do, she got completely hands on immediately and didn’t stop until he was ready to go. Y/N had been developing incredible leadership skills, she made everything go right on time, she made sure meetings were efficient and all employees had clear instructions.

Tommy looked around for her since all he could find was silence,so it was a surprise to find her sitting on the floor inside the safe, somehow she also managed to make the count and organize the mess they had inside. After feeling on the edge for days, watching her skirt wrinkled, a lock of hair bothering her vision and making her blow some air in a lousy attempt to move it back made his day go a million times better.

She wasn’t a Shelby yet, - he should change that soon- but somehow she had managed to earn that last name by her endless support and all the hard work she was doing.

“You’re making me start thinking I should have everyone else fired and hire you full time, what the hell are you doing Y/N?” Tommy asked with his arms folded against his chest, the hint of a smile dancing in his lips. He couldn’t hide the amusement in his features.

Face it all together

At Skyfall

“Why do you have a King’s letter here?” Y/N raised her hand with a wrinkled paper, that caught Tommy’s attention right away.

“Where did you find it?” His eyes scanned the words at speed.

“After finishing the count, I started organizing the licenses and papers, this briefcase was at the back.” She explained showing him the other papers. “What’s the matter?”

Then, in a surprising motion, Tommy took her face between his hands and gave her a loud and effusive kiss on the lips.

“This is better than the fucking lottery!”

He announced storming out of the safe, Y/N rushed to close it before following his steps confused.

“You’re a fucking genius.”

“I’m not following.” She frowned while Tommy poured two glasses, this was the first time she saw him smile for weeks, his eyes finally showing life.

“I found that briefcase by accident some time ago, it involves the King in some shit ,” his eyes were shining like the stars outside, “this is my ticket to get my family out and all thanks to you.”

Tommy pulled her by the hips to make her sit on his lap.

“What are you waiting for then? Go on!” She encouraged him, but Tommy had other plans.

“If it wasn’t for you during this difficult time, I wouldn’t be able to do this, you know that right?” His hand came to caress her cheek while she took a moment to savor his sweet words. “This is far from the ideal proposal and I don’t even have a ring right now, but I need you to know that I want you by my side forever.”

“Oh Tommy!” Her eyes got teary, she was so tired and worried for him, thinking he would explode at any moment so this was totally unexpected.

And for the first time in days, they both felt like they did a good job by keeping the business afloat and finally the way to get the family free. After hugging tightly and another round of kisses, Y/N pulled back.

“First things first, we’re going to write a letter to get your family out of jail,” Y/N stated excitedly, “we should do a tea party and invite Mr. Churchill and other VIP guests.”

Tommy chuckled.

“And let me pick up Aunt Pol, she is still angry with you.”

“Fair enough.” He answered leaning back on his chair as Y/N was writing the letter.

After asking a blinder to deliver it personally, Y/N walked back into Tommy’s office finding him with his eyes closed and two fingers massaging his temples.

“Everything will be alright.” She hugged him from behind, taking in how worried he really was, but he had been disguising as strong and tough and intimidating all the time.

“I know,” when Tommy looked into her eyes, she found sadness. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Tommy… I knew you’d find a wait to get them out.”

“This shouldn’t be happening. Not to them.”

“Let’s focus on the future now, hmm?” Y/N kissed his cheek.

That was all he could think of now. And all of the things they’d do together.

He was so grateful for the way she managed everything, kept him grounded and focused, encouraged him to keep going, to not give up, she stood up for him when he needed it the most.

And there was nothing on earth good enough to show her how grateful he really was.

***

Adele songs challenge

Master List

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @zablife @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya (can’t tag) @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra

[interpolanticssuperfan]

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 2 | 18+ only

warnings: none for this chapter except reader doesn't believe that ken isn't human and asks to touch his feet to prove it. its not going to be a thing, i promise lol. enjoy !! also i really hope my characterization of ken is good so far!!

So this is how you found yourself packing up your things, throwing a cursory farewell glance to Pat, who’d long abandoned watching your tense exchange in favor of flipping through an Avon brochure, and heading down the marble staircase with Ken glued to your side, chattering away at lightspeed the entire time.

“This is excellent. (Y/N), I just knew you’d be as kind as I thought you were. And now I never have to see the bridge guy again. You don’t have a change of clothes, do you? I mean… I assume you have plenty of dresses, jumpsuits, blazers, things like that, but I could really use something that accentuates my chest a little better. Unless you like it covered up. Do you like it covered up?”

“Aren’t you sweating your ass off in those clothes? And who is the bridge guy?” You give a slight tug at the hem of his jacket, pushing open the glass double doors for the both of you and nearly gasping at the hot wall of humid air washing past, embracing your skin in a rush. 

Ken turns, locks his confused eyes with your inquisitive ones. As your hand flies away from him, Ken follows your fingers, like he’s upset that you didn’t actually touch him. “What do you mean? I feel fantastic in these. It’s my white denim. But if you… do you like them?”

“I… well, I don’t know what your chest looks like, but I’m sure it looks… great.” Your cheeks flushed as you stole an unbidden glimpse in his general direction, shouldering you as if he was convinced he’d disappear if he wasn’t essentially tethered to you. 

“You really think so? Then I’ll keep it on. I bet I can wear this for a whole week and not even get a single wrinkle. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.” 

Without asking, you chance a risky move, placing your fore and middle finger to the back of Ken’s neck where his hair dips down. The sunlight doesn’t seem to bother him, the punishing heat isn’t making him groan with exhaustion, and to your abject horror – there’s not a bead of sweat on him: Ken’s sun-kissed skin is frigid to the touch. Rigid, he felt wax-like, resembling the mold of a man. 

In the middle of the looping sidewalk that wraps around to the block you live on, Ken freezes with a gasp, reflexively shoots his hand up to clasp around your wrist where you’re feeling him. For a moment, neither of you speak, you just allow yourself to stare into his eyes which are very much undeniably alive, bright blue with inexplicable life and bounding to chase yours, melting into your grip.

“Why aren’t you hot out here.” It doesn’t come out as a question. Ken begins to sense your hesitation, doesn’t drop his firm fingers from your hand. “It’s the middle of summer, Ken.”

You hear a passerby shove past you, can feel their leashed dog traipse by your knees, you can hear a car horn honking at traffic, but all of it feels muted, feels futile, the volume turning down on every possible source of stimulation save for Ken’s eyes, Ken’s icy cold neck.

He isn’t smiling, but he doesn’t back down from the question. “I told you. I’m not…” Ken looks upwards to the clouds, quirks an eyebrow as if drafting his response with immense care. As if he had been up there before. Like he’d never thought this hard about anything. “I’m not from here. You’re a human.”

“And you’re supposed to be – what?” 

“I don’t really know how to explain it. No one’s ever… I guess no one’s ever cared to ask me about it.” With his eyes still trained on yours, you press your fingers a little harder against a cord of muscle where a visible vein pokes out, feebly exploring for a pulse point, just to find that Ken had no heartbeat, either.

This pressure between you both seemed to pull a reaction from Ken, who at once slammed his eyes shut and sucked in a harsh breath, inching his head back and baring more of his not-skin to you. You felt that if Ken could have a pulse, it would be racing right about now. 

“Are you. Are you dead?”

You feel ridiculous. You feel faint. Your body wants to look every which way, maybe waiting for a prank show host to reveal themselves with a raucous cast and crew, pointing and laughing at the fool who fell for the “living wax figure” bit, and you’d smile for the camera and go home and forget this ever happened. (Mind destined to wonder how the hell they made their dummy so believable, so lifelike, so… alive.)

But no one came, and no one laughed, and glassy eyed Ken kept staring at you, scrambling for an answer to your loaded question.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

“Do you eat?”

“Never tried. But there’s a bunch of food in Barbieland. It’s more for decoration, if that makes sense. Sorta like clothes. An apple here is very different from an apple there. Trust me.”

Sudden shakiness claiming your knees, you knew you’d have to find a place to sit soon or you were liable to fall over in the middle of the sidewalk, which would pose a massive problem for you and your new cargo (friend?) who claimed to neither sleep nor eat, let alone seemed capable of getting you medical help.

These newest revelations which you’d felt for yourself seemed to quickly overshadow the old worries which had plagued you – the stalking, the casing out your apartment, those were all old news now. 

Ken was one step ahead of you, noticed the pallor painting across your face, and without another word took your bag from your shoulder, slipping a shockingly strong arm around your waist effortlessly. “Come here. You look… really scared.” He jolted his head to find an unoccupied stretch of grass, then walked you both over to it, hand never leaving your back. 

Once you felt yourself on the ground, you were able to take a deep breath. Ken sat cross legged in front of you, your bag still strewn across his body, his face entirely drawn with intense concern. 

“(Y/N)?” The consideration in his tone was so palpable, you couldn’t help but to trust him, let him continue to keep his hand on you, just to make sure you were still with him. Black splotches had entered your vision but dissipated once you got your bearings, due in part to the reassuring feeling of Ken’s thumb pressed against the ball of your kneecap.

“I’m sorry, I. I don’t know what just happened. I didn’t mean to freak you out, Ken.” 

“You don’t have to apologize. Do you feel any better?”

In the middle of the day, broad daylight assailing your back, your cheeks, your arms, and still on the clock, you lifted your head up to address Ken. 

Ken, who had been there to help you, who had fixed you with such tenderness in his eyes and didn’t know the first thing about you. Ken, who glimmered in the sun, who waited five hours at the library by himself just for a chance at seeing you. Who had been bursting at the seams to show you a book about… horses.

“Did you really follow me home?”

Ken nodded, smile tugging at his lips. “I should have said hi. Would you have said hi back?” The way he balanced back on his tailbone revealed even more of his abdomen, his glistening muscles that managed to appear slick though they were devoid of actual sweat. Ken really did look to be covered in… well, lacquer, or some kind of perfect finish that made him perpetually shine.

“I think I would have said hi, yes. For sure. Why do you keep talking about – um. Barbie? And please be honest with me.” 

Ken didn’t miss a beat, looked down to where his thumb was still resting on your leg. “Don’t freak out again. You don’t have to worry about her, by the way – we are not a thing anymore.” He pointed tersely with his free hand. 

“That’s not what I was wondering… about.”

“I’d rather you hear it from me first, (Y/N). I’m from Barbieland. That’s what I was trying to explain before. You know Barbie and Ken? That’s me. I am Ken.” A laugh would be appropriate, but you didn’t feel like giving one. Not considering the dead serious look Ken wore as he talked, measured and severe.  

“Okay. So… okay. What does that mean? You live… like a Ken doll? Like extreme cosplay? Plastic surgery to look like him and stuff like that?” 

“I don’t know what roleplay is. I am literally Ken.” He blinks at you, waiting for the cogs to turn, waiting for it to click for you.

“A mega Ken fan.” You might be in denial still. 

Growing frustrated, Ken snatches your hand back to his lower neck, brusquely forcing your clammy fingers into the dip right above his clavicle, the base of his throat to prove his point.

“See? I don’t feel like you. Feel yours, and then feel mine. I’m not lying. Why would I lie about who I am?” With your other hand that Ken hadn’t captured, you did as he said and mirrored the motion, felt your arduous pulse, blood coursing through your veins, and felt speechless again at the sensation of nothingness coming from the guy who looked more male than any man you’d actually seen.

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve never been to a doctor?”

“Oh, Barbie is a doctor. But I haven’t needed to see her for anything in a while. She used to call me accident prone. Or attention seeking. I can’t remember which one.”

“Right. Have you ever been sick?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Of course not.

“Broken a bone?”

“Don’t think I have those,” Ken pressed on, returning your nervous hand to your lap. He then stretched his leather-covered legs out across the gross, positioning them to the side of your knees, and started playing with the strap of your bag. “This is pretty heavy. No one carries this around for you?”

“Is it okay if I touch your leg?”

“You can absolutely touch it. But, do you think I can do that for you from now on? Carry the bag?” Ken pleaded at you with his eyes, so open and honest and innocent like a newborn fawn, and you found it impossible to tell him no. Talking with him was almost like conversing with a child, and that made your skin crawl when coupled with the knowledge that you found him overwhelmingly attractive, impossibly beautiful, even. 

Jesus, the heat must be getting to you after all.

“Sure, you can carry my bag, Ken.” 

“Yes,” Ken celebrated privately, too initially excited to notice that you’d started prodding at his shin in little tentative bursts. At first, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, it just felt like… a leg. So you eyeballed his ankles, his feet where the cowboy boots sat against the grass, and Ken seemed to know what you were about to ask. “Do you wanna see my feet? Will you believe me then?”

“I know how crazy this might sound. But I think I kind of do need to see them. Is that okay?” You fought to suppress your embarrassed grin, but this only made Ken laugh.

And what a beautiful laugh he had. Boyish, charming, airy like an angel; something you wanted to keep hearing again and again until this self proclaimed “Ken” had run out of things to find funny.

Had you always been this easy?

Or was it just easy with him?

Ken bent forward immediately, removing his spotless white boots, to reveal bare, spotless feet, angled perfectly and without any sort of distinct smell. No calluses, no odd toenail, no hair. They enticed you to get closer, to touch them, but you realized how bizarre this looked and how odd Ken must feel. 

“I’m sorry, god, this is probably the weirdest day you’ve ever had, and I’m not making it any –” But as you looked up to give him this apology, Ken wore not an uncomfortable expression, but one instead of… unnamable, sober emotion. Like he was likely to break down in tears of relief the longer you regarded him with such curiosity.

“You don’t think I’m weird?” Ken asked, voice barely above a whisper. This response wasn’t what you expected, and you bit your lip, learning fast that Ken was as sensitive as he was bold. “When Barbie was here, people were awful to her at first, they were calling her horrible things and I don’t think I could…”

“I think that I have never met anyone like you. I think that… it’s insane that your feet are… I mean, can I touch them?”

This brings a hopeful spark to his face again, and he nods eagerly at your request, hungry to hear what you have to say. As if his future hangs on your opinion of him. As if he would die without your attention, good attention, bad attention, any of it. As if the prospect of being touched would save him from damnation, eternally.

All this to hold a stranger’s foot (a stranger with no heartbeat, a stranger with hypnotic blue eyes that could look so inviting looking down at you, would look even better blown open in surprise after a kiss, or – wait, why are you thinking about this?) on the grassy courtyard by a Catholic church while you’re still ignoring your work and still getting paid for every minute.

You knew there’d be more than a handful of angry emails waiting for you when you finally returned home.

But that could wait. It could all wait, because you scooted forward to cradle Ken’s bare foot in your lap, and you inspected with all the great care of a scientist inventing pharmaceuticals or something equally as important to mankind. He was right. It wasn’t like yours, his skin, his body wasn’t like anything you’d seen before. So… smooth. No hair except for Ken’s head of blonde, his arched brows. What kind of human being could live this long and not have a pimple on their face, no bumps or ridges on their feet, no scars anywhere whatsoever? You dragged your fingertips across the rounded arch, but again, nothing.

“You’re not even ticklish?”

“I’m not sure what that feels like.”

“Is Barbie ticklish?”

“I never tried tickling her.”

“You can feel me doing this, right?” Ken nodded, watched you caress him lightly, then with effort, as you squeezed tentatively. “So you can feel pressure.”

“Yeah, I can feel everything you’re doing.”

“But there’s no, like. It’s not tickling you, it’s not hurting you, it’s not. Sorry if this sounds weird, I promise I’m just trying to get information. Does it feel… good?” Something in you was begging you to just let go, stop worrying that this was probably the strangest day you’ve ever had, like you had anything else nearly as interesting going on besides quiche recipes in library magazines and buying lettuce for your guinea pig. 

Ken raises his light brown eyebrows, like he hadn’t considered this, face still content as he processed your handiwork, rotating in circles now and occasionally swiping up to his smooth ankle. The cuffs of his leather pants had rolled up and afforded you a bit of access to more skin, if you could call it that.  

“You’re the first person to touch my feet before. I don’t know… give me a second.”

“Should I stop?” Suddenly, you began to worry this might be putting Ken off. After all, you literally didn’t know him, and you’d asked him to show him your feet. Christ, you hoped he wasn’t taking you for a lunatic. You knew this was probably stupid. It was arguably unsafe – this guy had admitted to following you home. 

However, with context, you were beginning to understand this might be the only course of action that fit Ken.

“No – don’t stop. Please, keep going.” The tone he’d just used was vastly different from the others – it wasn’t quizzical, wasn’t reassuring or conversational. He sounded… pleased, voice almost cracking at the end as you pushed a little harder at where his ankle bone would be and felt none of the give a human would have, none of the pores or follicles of hair. You’d started to really start massaging him now, gently rolling your fingers across his lower shin and then moving back down to his feet, compressing him. 

How could this be real? It didn’t make any sense. You had half an idea to ask if you could try this on his neck, but when you looked up to gauge his physical state, Ken’s eyes hadn’t opened, but his mouth had fallen open in satisfaction, brows relaxed and easy. At first, he seemed peaceful, but when you stilled your breathing, you could hear him almost purring under your touch, like he’d never felt this before and wanted more – wanted something more acute. Something heightened. His chest rose and fell, mouth twitching as you worked, but you knew this was a peculiar way of getting to know someone, and you knew that Ken would probably never tell you to stop.

You gingerly laid Ken’s foot back in the grass next to his boot, and he snapped his eyes open, staring at you with a protest at the unexpected loss of contact.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I don’t know. This is weird. Am I making you feel weird?”

“(Y/N) – you’re making me feel incredible is what you’re doing. What’s that called, anyway?”

“A foot massage, I suppose. And it’s not something you typically do the first day you meet someone.”

Ken turned this over in his mind, evidently not picking up on the undercurrent of… something heavier than enjoyment he’d been displaying so openly, and put his boot back on.

“You don’t even need socks, huh?”

“Guess not. Can we do that again sometime? Maybe you can teach me how to do it for you? (Y/N), I promise I can learn really fast.” His mind racing a mile a minute, you had the good sense to rise above in this situation, regardless of how electric it felt to touch him – even if it was a little unorthodox.

You rose to stand once Ken had adjusted his (perfect) foot, and Ken held onto your bag like it was his job, clutching the strap with unnecessary force. 

“Maybe, Ken. Listen, I really need to get back to my apartment and keep working, my boss is probably furious with me. And. I also am sorry if that was weird, asking to see your feet and then… doing that. I promise I’m not a creep or anything.” Very convincing – great work, he’s sure to buy that.

“Don’t say that. Seriously, (Y/N), I do not want to hear you say that again. You’re not a creep – you’re amazing, you’re so smart – no one’s ever even been interested in seeing me like that, no one’s ever questioned that I’m a doll, so I –”

“Is that what it is?” You asked, feeling like the clouds may have parted and the word dancing on your lips the entire time finally made itself known to you. “You’re a doll?” Ken bounded to his feet in a fluid motion, something that would’ve been difficult for any normal man to do.

He made it look easy – made everything look easy.

Ken chuckled, couldn’t help but wear that irresistible grin as he waited for you to start leading the way, assuming that wherever you went, he would naturally follow. “You are so funny. I told you, didn’t I? I am Ken! That’s me.”

“That’s you.”

“That’s me, baby.”

It rolled off his lips a little too casually. It wrenched your heart to correct him – with Ken’s understanding of the world, he probably had no idea that touching someone’s bare feet in the middle of the day did not mean you were romantically involved. 

You wondered what he understood of romance. You wondered if he’d ever been touched anywhere else, what was underneath his pants, what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped massaging him, but this started to make your head spin with more ferocity than before.

“This is important, Ken, so please listen.”

“You got it.”

“People you’re just friends with – you can’t call them baby.”

“But we are friends. We are, right?”

“Yes – yes, we are friends. But baby is for when you’re with someone. You know?”

Ken chewed on this, followed you down the sidewalk even further, passing by a string of old houses.

“With someone.”

“Dating them. Seeing them. Committed and whatnot. You have that in… Barbieland too, don’t you?” It felt completely and utterly insane saying that sentence, but you were beginning to realize you’d have to stop caring about how you sounded when you talked to Ken if you wanted to get anywhere with him.

“Sort of. I meant it when I said you don’t have to worry about Barbie, okay? Don’t worry about that, (Y/N). We are just. Friends.”

This wasn’t going where you thought it would. For now, you decided to postpone educating Ken a little further on the boundaries you’d have to set – the ground rules to keep this from turning into something unfair. 

Ken smiled at your side, hated to tear away from your shoulder even to let other people pass, and for now it was enough to hear Ken call you ‘baby’ even if just once, and even if he had no idea what it really meant.

[forever-rogue]

Javi and Dulzura taking the kids grocery shopping and Dulzura leaves Javi with the kids(maybe she takes the youngest with her in like a baby carrier cause that’s just cute) because she forgot something a couple isles over and someone tried flirting with Javi cause they’re thinking “oh hot single dad” but Dulzura shows up just in time and is like nope.

AN | Oh yeah, but no. No one messes with Javi when Dulzura is around! Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javier!” you sighed as you looked through the fridge for a third time before turning back to the pantry and finding that it was just as empty as the fridge. This was definitely not good.

“What’s wrong, Dulzura?” he made his way into the kitchen, a smile on his face as he found you standing there with your hands on your hips, “I didn’t do it.”

“Oh? You don’t eat in this house anymore?” you snorted in amusement as you motioned for him to come closer. He raised an eyebrow as he came over and gave you a kiss, “we’re running dangerously low on groceries.”

“Uh oh,” he took a quick look through everything before groaning slightly, “we’re going to have to go to the store.”

“We have to go to the store,” you confirmed as a few shrieks of joy reached you from the living room, “and I think we’re going to have to take the gaggle with us.”

“The gaggle?” he couldn’t help but laugh as you nodded seriously.

“They’re like baby geese honking and running all over the place,” despite your best efforts you weren’t able to keep the smile off your face, “therefore they are our little gaggle of geese. And you’re Father Goose.”

“Does that make you Mother Goose?” he put a hand on your waist and pulled closer to his body, before wrapping you up in a tight hug.

“Nope,” you could feel him smiling against your lips, “I’m Queen Goose, and you’re all my loyal subjects.”

“And I would never dare to cross you,” he promised, taking a moment to kiss you properly, “do you think we’ll survive?”

“I can put Bella in her carrier and the others will be okay,” the two of you grimaced for a moment. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your children - you absolutely did, more than anything - but they were a lot. A whole lot, “they’re good kids. They’ll listen…they’ve been good before.”

“And we can incentivize with ice cream,” he suggested as you nodded.

“Like that was a question,” you grinned, “whatever it takes.”

“When should we go?”

“We’re going to have to feed them soon,” you playfully sighed, “unless you’ve got something else that you need to do first?”

“Never,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and that made you smile softly. He was always so tender and gentle with you, even after all these years, “you and the gaggle are always my number one priority.”

“Oh cielito,” you beamed at him, making his knees weak, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he promised, “now, let’s get everyone rounded up and get going. I have a feeling this is going to be quite an adventure.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” you and Javier jumped out of the car to quickly go over the game plan for grocery shopping. When you had a family of seven, planning was a must. It gave you some pause for a moment as you took in the scene in front of you. A large SUV filled with children and a hot husband  that were all yours. You’d never imagined that this would be your life, even when you’d first started your relationship with Javier this was never anything you’d imagined. But you wouldn’t change a thing either.

“You have your list?” you asked as he pulled the paper with the groceries he was going to procure out of his pocket. You mirrored him and held up your list, “okay, I’ll start with the kids, and then we’ll meet in the middle and swap.”

“And you’re okay with taking Bella?” 

“Yup - she’ll be strapped to my chest so she’s not going anymore,” you were very proud of your little plan, “but she’s also eight months old so she's not really going anywhere either way. You can get her next time.”

“Sounds like a deal, Dulzura,” he put his hand on your face and brushed his thumb over cheek, “you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you could hear the small giggles from inside the car. That alone made your heart soft, “let’s get this done so we can all get some ice cream.”

“Now that sounds perfect,” he opened the back door so the two of you could start getting the kids out. Lucia hopped out, along with Diego who was much more tactful than his older sister. They clambered over to Javi as you took Bella out of her car seat and into the carrier you had on your chest. She cooed happily as you got her settled before you each grabbed out one of the twins. 

“Oh my little loves,” you grinned at them, trying to hold back your internal squeals. As they stood by Javi, you could see just how much they all seemed to take after him with their dark hair and soft eyes and bright smiles. You liked to joke that you did all the hard work with carrying them and birthing them and they betrayed you by taking after their father. Except for Bella who definitely took more after you. But you loved them all beyond words, “we are going to go grocery shopping so we can have food at home - and if you’re all good, we can go get ice cream afterwards and go to the park. What do you guys think?”

You were met with little cheers and bright smiles; alright - you had them reeled in.

“You’re going to go with your mamá,” Javier affectionately ruffled Lucia’s curls and then later on you’ll come with me. Si?”

“Si papá,” Lucia and Diego chirped happily as the twins nodded. 

“Inside voices please and stay close, okay? And remember your manners,” you gave Javi a look and he silently responded. The two of you didn’t even have to verbalize conversations anymore, you were so in sync, “okay, let’s go then kiddos! And no running either, por favor!”

“Good luck, Dulzura,” Javi punctuated his statement with a kiss as you both grabbed shopping carts, “if you want to trade off early, just say the word.”

“You’re a good man, amor,” you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” and he gave your bum a small pinch which made your eyes widen as you tried to quiet your giggles, “and that never gets old.”

“Javier.”

“See you soon,” with that, he took off towards the other end of the store to start on his list. 

You shook your head with a fond smile as Bella babbled away, “your father is impossible, I swear. But luckily for all of you, you’re all so cute!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your children were definitely small agents of chaos, but you had to admit that they definitely listened and listened well when asked to. One would think that Javier, former DEA agent Javier, would have been the more strict parent, but if anything, it was definitely you. Luckily, there weren’t many times you had to pull out the strict mom card too often.

"Mamá?" Diego was at your side as his sisters and brother were up ahead, excitedly looking at all the bright packaging on the shelves.

"Yes, my love?" You reached down and touched his little cheek, "everything alright?"

"Mhmm," he grabbed your hand with his much smaller one, "can we get cookies?"

"Cookies?" You playfully scoffed at him as he grinned at you shyly, "you want cookies?"

"Yes please," there came your favorite little gap toothed grin, "I like the oreos! Abuelo likes them too."

"Well I can't say no to you and abuelo," you put a hand on your heart, "we can get some cookies, but you have to share with everyone."

"Even with Bella?"

"Maybe not Bella," the baby in question was already asleep again, "but your other sisters and brother and papá."

"Okay," he nodded eagerly as he padded up ahead to where he could see the telltale blue packaging. 

At the end of the aisle you saw Javier pop up and you felt yourself relaxing. He leaned against the cart and offered you a cheeky little wink accompanied by a wave. You stuck your tongue out in response as he shook his head fondly.

"Doing alright?" He asked when you made your way down the aisle. 

"Not a single hair on their heads harmed, no missing kids, and no meltdowns," you grinned as the kids all studied the different types of oreos that were available, "I promised your son some oreos. Made a sucker right out of me."

"My son?"

"Yes," you confirmed fervently, "when he makes a sucker out of me, he's your son. Other times I will take half credit for him."

"What about the others?" 

"They can be ours. But they're on thin ice!"

"You, Dulzura, are something else," he whispered before stealing a kiss. Lucia had gotten to the age where she called you both out for any sort of PDA. Diego was out at any age where he naturally agreed with his older sister. The twins were still young enough to be unbothered, "my turn?"

"Yes Daddy," you teased as his eyebrows shot up in amusement. It was your turn to wink at him as you herded the kids over to him, "all yours!"

"Two can play that game baby," you shrugged innocently, "I'll see you at the registers."

"See you soon!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were walking the rest of your half of the grocery store in peace, enjoying a few quiet moments to yourself. They were far and few in between - no complaints on your part - but nice when you got them. Bella remained sleepy, drifting in and out of a little nap, but that didn't stop you from speaking quietly to her. She was such a happy baby and so calm and sweet; she was more like Diego than her sisters and other brother. They were all unique in their own special ways.

"Alright mija," you grabbed the last of your fresh produce and set it in the cart, crossing the items off your list. You were finished now and even earlier than anticipated, "let's go see if papá needs help."

You made your way to the other end of the store, grabbing a few things that looked good on the way - going shopping when hungry was never a good idea.

You spotted Thea from around the corner and attempted to follow her to Javier when you heard him speaking to someone. It definitely wasn't one of the kids, so you wondered if it was someone you knew.

"Look at those curls," the voice was high pitched and screeching, causing you to cringe. This was definitely not someone you knew, "what beautiful children!"

"Thanks, I-"

"They're all so precious," well then, this was interesting if nothing else. You could just imagine Javier's face, "they look like you. What are their names?"

"I, ugh, ma'am-"

"I'm Lucia," you were giggling now, listening to your daughter speak up, "that's my sister Thea, that's Diego, and that's Santiago but we all call him Santi. We have a baby sister too, her name's Bella."

"You are just sweet as pie," you edged towards the end of the aisle to peek around, "and your daddy is just as sweet…and handsome!"

"Umm…"

"And to think, you're raising them on your own!" okay, now you were getting annoyed. She looked exactly like you imagined, box blonde with over the top makeup, too much plastic surgery and an outrageous outfit. And she had the audacity to flirt with your husband in front of your children! You looked at his hand and he was definitely wearing his wedding band, "you know there's something so attractive about a single father."

"I'm not-"

"I can't even imagine everything you have to go through," she put her manicured hand over her heart, "you know if you ever need anything-"

"Hello, my love!" You slapped on the biggest grin you could manage as you sauntered over to him. Relief flooded his features as soon as he saw, along with the heart eyes he always seemed to watch you, “I was looking for you! We got separated.”

“H-hey baby,” he sounded so thankful that it caused you to shoot him a quick wink, “glad you found us.”

“Me too,” you walked over and gave him a big kiss, careful not to squish the baby, “I hate being separated from you, even if its just for a few minutes. Oh, hello. And you are?”

“Millie,” her entire face fell as she looked you over. You could tell she wasn’t expecting a wife, let alone you, “y-you’re-”

“I’m his wife,” you confirmed with a sticky sweet smile, “and the mother of all of his children.”

“O-oh, I didn’t mean to…imply anything,” but yeah, you weren’t buying that for a moment.

“Oh? Well, he’s wearing a wedding ring and clearly not interested,” you were enjoying this a little too much, “but thank you for your comments on my children. They are very adorable and sweet. But we can handle them on our own, sweetie. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” and with that, she turned the corner and you could hear her high heels shuffling away. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back to face Javier. You weren’t quite sure what reaction you were supposed to be expecting, but it wasn’t the smug, proud expression he wore. 

“What was that?” he asked, as he watched the kids look at everything on shelves. He took a step closer to you and put a hand on your hip and gave it a gentle squeeze, “Dulzura.”

“It wasn’t anything,” you replied simply with a shrug, “I was just making sure she knows who you belong to. And to stay away from my children.”

“You’re always sexy, you know that,” he whispered close to your ear, “you’re even sexier when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you put your hand on his cheek and patted it playfully, “there’s nothing to be jealous of. You’re mine and everyone knows that. You know that.”

“I do,” he promised, “I am yours. I’ve always been yours, from the day we met.”

“Hmmm,” you mused as you pressed a kiss to his lips, “good man, Javier. I’m yours too, you know.”

“I know,” he growled as you smiled.

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you grinned, “if I ever see another woman try to make a move on you, I won’t be as nice. She caught me on a good day.”

“I doubt that’ll happen again-”

“I doubt that,” you insisted, “you’re fine as hell, Javier. Just because you refuse to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. You really don’t notice how all these women look at you, do you?”

“Nope,” he looked so proud of him, “because I’ve only got eyes for one woman.”

“You always know exactly what to say,” you sighed wistfully as you looked him over, “I am going to take care of you tonight, amor. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Baby,” he groaned slightly at your insinuation, “I want to-”

“Papá!” Lucia waved at him from down the aisle, “come here!”

You laughed softly as he closed his eyes and let out a small groan. You gave him a quick kiss before nudging him towards his daughter. 

“This isn’t finished,” he whispered to you as raised an eyebrow, “I mean it, Dulzura.”

“I’m counting on that, cielito.”

“Papá! Hurry!”

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 15

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Dr. Miller had been right. It’s amazing laying in bed watching the snow fall down at you from above. I stared up through the oversized skylight, if that’s what it was, and stared as the collection of snowflakes coated the glass. An outdoor light illuminated the area making it all the more enchanting.

My body ached and my heart was full. Dr. Miller kissed across the tops of my breasts in the darkness and I secured him there with an arm around the top of his back.

“I could just stay up here watching the snow fall for days,” I said quietly. “I could be like your own.. Rapunzel.”

He laughed against my skin and then cradled himself behind me, letting his fingers dance in circles around my bellybutton. I curled my knees up toward my chest and a chill ran down my back. I didn’t think my body could handle it if he touched me again. I didn’t think I’d had a limit, but my body was tastefully sexed out.

“Someone came to the house today,” Dr. Miller said into my ear.

My weary eyes flickered open and I smiled smally to myself in the darkness, pleased that he told me.

“When?”

“When my phone went off earlier and I left for a bit.” He brushed the hair away from my neck and left a single kiss there. “It was something for work.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure if I should press for details or simply let him say whatever he wanted to say about it.

Dr. Miller held me closer, securing my back against his chest. Our fingers linked on the mattress. “I have to leave for a couple of hours.”

I turned my head part way and then managed to flip my body around so we were face-to-face on the pillow. “Why?”

He pulled me on top of him. “There’s just something I have to do.” Dr. Miller looked away for a moment and his hand slid across the small of my back. “I know that’s vague..” It took a few seconds but he looked back to me. The apologetic puppy eyes had me locked in place and I managed to crack a smile.

“Another woman?” I joked, though I wanted to see his reaction.

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows pressed together and he grew serious, but I silenced him before he could speak with a kiss.

“I’m kidding,” I whispered.

“You’re all I’ve been able to think about since I’ve met you,” he confessed, not smiling back. Dr. Miller's hand found my face again and then moved to my hair. I could tell he had a thing about playing with my hair and I loved it. “Besides, I don’t think I could get my dick up right now if I tried.”

When I giggled he finally smirked and leaned up to plant a hard, closed-mouth kiss on my already aching lips.

“You have successfully worn me out,” Dr. Miller added, wrapping both arms around me as we continued a sensual, little makeout session.

“I know the feeling.” I smiled at him and then left a breath against his lips. “Go do whatever you need to do. I’ll be here.”

“I’m sorry.”

Don’t be.” I told him, “You have a life.”

“And I’m glad you’ve become a part of it.”

“Me, too.”

We kissed again and Dr. Miller stayed close for a few extra seconds before reluctantly slinking out of bed. I couldn't help but stare at him in his purest, most vulnerable form.

He clicked on a light beside the bed and handed over a remote for the television on the wall across the room. “You don't have to stay up here, but if you're comfortable and want to get some sleep, I'll be back soon.”

The oversized clock on the wall read ten forty-five. I sighed and hugged one of the pillows, rolling onto my side.

“I'll probably just stay in here and go to sleep soon.” My eyes drifted up toward the ceiling. The snow had picked up again. “Please be careful driving.”

“I'm taking the truck.” Dr. Miller put both hands on the bed and leaned back down to touch his lips to mine. “Get some rest.”

“Hurry back.” I half-smiled and we kissed another time. He gripped my fingers between his own before slinking out of the room and down the stairs.

When Dr. Miller physically left the room, I realized how badly I didn't want him to go. I suddenly realized that I was in too deep. I was too wrapped up in this; in him. Being away from him after such an emotionally driven, sexually charged morning and afternoon left my chest cavity feeling empty.

Why do I want to cry? Nothing was wrong. Dr. Miller would be back soon, but there would be a time sooner than later when I would have to leave his mansion to go back to real life. I didn't want to. I was wrapped up, caught up and already longing for his company ninety seconds after he left the room.

When I heard the alarm system click on, I rose to my feet and felt a chill as I wandered toward the window to look out. A few minutes passed before the oversized black pickup truck rolled through the driveway, kicking up snow, and drove down toward the main gates. And then he was gone. Gone to parts unknown. Parts he couldn't talk about.

I need a reality check. I need to chill out.

I took a deep breath and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers all the way up. Deep down I knew something was off. This wasn't normal - at all. No part of this was normal. But I wanted it. I wanted Dr. Miller and the way he looked at me; the way he spoke to me and pampered me and touched me.

I tried to go to sleep, because I knew if I did that I would wake to him being there - beside me. My stomach was in knots and I kept trying to ignore it. I was happy but I needed some kind of emotional release. Still, I talked myself off the crying ledge and managed to get myself together with a series of deep breaths.

What is wrong with me? I took a final exhale and ordered my mind to turn off, but the collection of scenarios is made up in my head of what Dr. Miller was doing out in the middle of the night made that impossible.

I didn't know when I had fallen asleep. It had to have been hours before I finally dozed off. I only realized I had fallen asleep when a noise from down the staircase woke me up.

I immediately sprung up in bed, looking around the dark room. “Hello?” It was three-thirty. Dr. Miller wasn't back yet. My hand fell to the empty part of the bed beside me.

My heart rate picked up and I took a breath before climbing out of bed. I searched around for my clothes but I realized I'd left them down in the living room all of those hours before.

“Shit.” I whispered to myself as I tiptoed around the room. When my eyes landed on a white bathrobe hanging in front of a closet it felt like a small victory.

I threw on the robe and then headed to the staircase, leaving little creaks behind me as I descended down. I wanted to call out for Dr. Miller. Why wasn't he home yet? Or maybe he was and he just hadn't come back upstairs.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was closed and when I finally felt for the doorknob in the darkness it didn't turn. I twisted it left and right, slowly at first and then with more urgency.

“Dr. Miller?” I twisted the handle back and forth, back and forth. More frantically now. I smacked a hand on the center of it with three loud bangs. “Dr. Miller?” I shouted a little louder.

I twisted and turned. I pounded. I shouted. The door wouldn't budge. And like my clothes, I hadn't bothered to bring my phone back upstairs. It was still in the living room. I had no way of even getting in touch with him.

“Dr. Miller!” I shouted his name again. Was he even home, or was I shouting to no one. My hand turned the knob again, back and forth, back and forth.

I looked around the darkness, my body spun in a complete circle and I felt the walls hoping there was another secret room or trap door or something. There wasn't.

I banged on the door one last time with both fists. When it flung open I stumbled forward and nearly screamed, falling into Dr. Miller's chest.

“Hey,” he breathed heavily and caught me. “Are you okay?”

“I couldn't get out.” My voice was still choppy and panicked.

“The door handle gets stuck sometimes.” He pulled me into his arms and I closed my eyes when I felt the warmth radiating off his chest. I could tell from his scent and the slick nature of his hair that he had just showered.

I couldn't control my breathing after the short panic attack I'd just had. My eyes closed and I tried to calm myself in his embrace.

“It's okay.” Dr. Miller stroked down the back of my hair and held me close in the hallway. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have closed it. I didn't mean to scare you.”

When he left a kiss on the top of my head I felt my body relax a bit.

“I'm sorry. I just heard a noise and woke up, and you weren't there.” I pulled back a little to glance up at him but Dr. Miller still held me close.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.” I shook my head and stared at him. Something was wrong. I could see it on his face and he couldn't hide it. And so I decided to just ask him. “What's wrong?”

Dr. Miller's eyes moved back and forth as he studied me for a moment and then he pulled me back against him. His arms engulfed my smaller frame and I hugged him back.

“You can talk to me,” I assured him in a little whisper.

His hand danced up and down my back and then he held me a little harder. Something was up. I could tell from his body language.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

Dr. Miller let out a deep exhale and whispered back. “Come to bed with me.”

“Okay.” I looked back up and I pushed up onto my toes to leave a kiss on his lips. When his stoic expression didn't change, I touched his face. “Are you okay?”

He reached for my hand without answering and pulled me with him toward the open door of his bedroom. When he slunk into bed, he pulled me with him and I let the robe slink of my shoulders to the floor.

Dr. Miller laid down with his head against my bare chest just below my breasts and wrapped an arm around my midsection.

I didn't ask him again if something was wrong. I just held him there against me in the darkness. We didn't speak, but neither of us fell asleep until the early morning hours.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17

[applejuicefruit]

im here on my knees begging you to write one more chance part 2 please we need it 😩😩😩😩😩😩

Since I’ve got so many requests about part 2…

HERE YOU GO✨❤️

One more chance pt. 2

Kylian’s P.O.V.

It’s been two months and y/n was still in coma.

I didn’t know what to do.

I’ve lost hope and faith. The doctors were trying everything but it wasn’t working.

My routine consisted of me going to see her every morning before training, every evening after training and when the nurses let me, I would sleep next to her. There wasn’t much they could do either. They just felt sad for me.

Her family couldn’t stay in Paris for that long so I called her mum every single day. We’ve become pretty close since the accident happened.

This morning, as every morning, I woke up, went to the hospital and then made it to training.

We have a match tonight I want to give 100% of me.

I changed and made it into the field.

Hakimi always checking on me like a brother would do.

I spoke less.

I hardly spoke with my teammates.

I’ve been eating less and training more.

I know it was bad for my health but I couldn’t help it.

After a couple of hours of training we all made it back into the changing room as it was time to go to eat.

I sat on the bench so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t even hear my phone ringing.

Instead Neymar answered for me.

“Ky…it’s the hospital” he said and I didn’t even let him finish that I took my bag and my car keys and got out of the changing room.

Neymar and Achraf following me.

I drove at inhuman speed towards the hospital that I’m lucky the police didn’t even stopped me.

I got into the level she was hospitalised and I saw her doctors and nurses out of her room

“Kylian…” one of the doctors said coming towards me.

“What is going on?” I said almost screaming.

“She’s getting worse…not even the machine is helping her to breathe, we tried everything…”

Where they thinking what I was thinking?

They wanted to turn off the machine and let her die?

“So?” I asked already knowing the answer.

“It’s been more than two months and, as much as we want her to wake up we don’t know if she’ll ever be able to do it…the machine could help someone who needs it” the doctor tried to explain to me

“Who needs it more than her?” I cried, Neymar grabbing my shoulders because I wanted to punch the doctor straight in the face.

“Kylian…” on of the nurses tried talking to me but I wouldn’t listen to her.

“No! You can’t do it! You…you need my consent to do it”

“Since you’re not married you can’t make this decision, otherwise her family has already decided”

What does it mean?

In that exact moment I saw her mom coming out from y/l’s room.

“Y/m/n” I called going towards her “tell me this isn’t your idea! Tell me you didn’t tell them to do it!”

“Kylian…” she said crying “she won’t wake up and you know it, she’s in pain and I can’t see her like this”

“How can you say this? She’s your daughter! You’re killing her!” I screamed grabbing her from her jacket.

She flinched a bit but I didn’t care.

Neymar and Achraf had to grab me by my shoulders because I was getting violent.

“As her mother I already have made that decision and there’s nothing you can’t stay that’ll change my mind…” she said leaving the hospital.

“When?” I asked the doctors.

“Tomorrow” they said before leaving me alone.

I was going to lose her forever.

I knelt down in the middle of the ward and I started crying harder.

Neymar and Hakimi knelt down with me and tried to support me but it wasn’t working since they started crying too.

It took me almost 40 minutes to calm down.

How could I say goodbye to the person I love the most?

I wasn’t ready.

How could her family do something like this to her?

“You good?” Neymar asked me while I was sitting outside of the hospital.

I simply nodded.

One night.

That’s what they gave her.

That’s all the time I have left with her.

I wanted to stay with her so I asked the doctors if I could spend the last night of her life with her. I tried to fight but I got tired. I knew this pain will never end.

Then night came.

“Hi babe…” I said entering her room.

Her face has recovered from all the bruises and just had a few scars.

I sat next to her holding her hand as I always did.

“Do you remember the first time we met? You were visiting Paris all by yourself and one night you got lost and you didn’t have anybody to call” I said laughing a bit “you kept asking people for directions but most of the wouldn’t even answer you, till you asked me in which direction you had to go…I honestly had no idea where you needed to go but I helped you” I remembered now fully crying “It took us 45 minutes to get to your hotel and that same night I gave you my phone number, you know, just in case…and the next morning you called me asking if I knew any good restaurants…that was the moment I knew I was in love with you…” I placed my head over her chest and laid there “your light and kindness made me fall in love with you, your beautiful eyes and smile, you’re the love of my life and always will be” I kept sobbing “so please, I’m begging you come back to me baby, please….please I-I can’t live without you.”

But nothing.

She wasn’t even moving.

That night I fell asleep on that uncomfortable chair holding her hand when around 3 am some weird noises woke me up.

I couldn’t focus, everything was dark and my eyes were heavy and red.

And that’s when I felt it.

Her hand slowly moving into mine.

I didn’t know if I was dreaming or if it was reality.

She coughed a bit and that’s when I knew she was awake.

“Kyky?” she tried to said in a very soft voice I wasn’t even sure I heard it right.

“Ky?” she called me again.

“Hey-hey…shhh” I said standing up and turning on the lights.

“Ky what happened?” she asked and that was when I saw her, it wasn’t a dream she was really awake.

“Shhhh…you’re okay…you had an accident but you’re awake now” I said now fully crying but tears of joy “it was a very bad accident, I almost lost you…” I tried to explain but she looked scared and confused.

“What?” she asked

“You’ve been in a coma for two months, I thought I lost you forever” I said holding her hand and kissing her gently.

She was still processing the informations I gave her. She was confused and scared…

“Two months?” she asked now crying. I nodded.

She tried to move her back a little bit but I stopped and run out of the room to call a doctor.

“Stay here…” I told her leaving her room.

After hours and hours of exams y/l was told she needed to stay a few more days at the hospital but that her injuries were almost recovered. Her broken leg and ribs recovered. Her concussion was still to keep an eye on but nothing major. The doctors couldn’t explain how she went to almost dead to being alive in so little time.

They said it was the medicine.

I said it was a miracle.

Now I was helping her standing up. She hasn’t walked for two months and now she could already felt her legs but the doctors said it was normal.

When her legs touched the floor they both gave up.

“I got you” I said catching her and helping her to get dressed “I always got you” I kissed her and God, how much I missed those lips. She smiled a bit into the kiss and so did I.

The next week came and I finally brought her home. She still needed help walking but I didn’t mind. I could carry her for the rest of my life.

“I’m so happy to be back home!” she said happily while i put her on the couch covering her up with a fluffy blanket.

“I’m so happy to have you back home, this place was so sad without you” I told her while I sat behind her and hold her. I started kissing her neck in the spot I know she loved.

“Kyky…” she said almost moaning my name.

I knew I had to stop before I hurt her more. She was still fragile and in pain but I couldn’t contain my happiness in having her back.

Instead I laughed into her neck and held her tight.

One thing I know for sure is that she’s never gonna drive a car again in the rest of her life.

[froggibus]

Not A Single Thing - Megumi Fushiguro

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x reader

Genre: ANGST, some hurt/comfort at the end

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: in your darkest moment, you look to Megumi for help, but all he can do is confirm your deepest fears

CW: mentions of death, mentions of murder (reader puts a civilian in harms way—resulting in their death), extreme guilt, slight suicidal thoughts, very angsty, slight grovelling?

have not read the newest chapters of the manga (oops) but this is essentially spoiler free. mentions of a panel from one of the first chapters in the manga, something I just could not get out of my head today. anyway, here’s some angst/hurt/comfort bcs that’s what I need today <3

————

But who’s to say that someone you save won’t kill someone in the future? 

You look up at Megumi in horror. Bloodstained hands are shaking, eyes are wide in terror. Your navy uniform is darkened by the blood now coating it. The unsteady rise and fall of your chest only gets worse by the minute, and no matter how much he wants to comfort you, all Megumi can do is stare. 

His own words echo in his ears. They weren’t directed at you, they were never directed at you. He wasn’t even thinking of you when he said them. They were directed at Yuji, directed at himself. 

Still, they spin around his head and flood his mind until he feels dizzy. 

Your knees shake until they buckle beneath you, sending you tumbling to the ground. Even the sweet burn of the concrete tearing through your skin isn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions surging through you. You shove your face into your hands and shake your head. This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. This…isn’t your fault, right? Right?

It only feels like seconds since the incident, but then Gojo is suddenly there and you know it’s been much, much longer. Your teacher collects you off of the ground, lifting you up like you weigh nothing. Your knees won’t support your own weight, your body is frozen completely. 

As Gojo starts to haul you off, carrying you out of the building, you finally manage to look up. Megumi is standing where he was before, staring at you with wide eyes. You thought his eyes were like an ocean before—vast and deep and never ending. And they still are, but now you’re drowning. 

“M-megs—” you can barely choke out the boy’s name. 

He looks just as dazed as you feel. And though there’s no blood on his hands, the guilt is evident on his face. You hope he says something, anything to make you feel better. 

His voice is impossibly quiet, as if he’s talking more to himself than to you. “Who’s to say that someone you save won’t kill someone in the future?”

You flinch, falling apart at his words. An icy numbness rushes over you, countered only by the feeling of Gojo’s warm hands on your arms. 

—

The next few days are a blur of meetings, mandated therapy and Yuji trying to force you to leave your room. The council had deemed it an accident, a human casualty—they happen all the time, they said. Everyone experiences it. 

Even Gojo, in all of his emotional immaturity, tries to reassure you it wasn’t your fault. He’s lost people on the job too, it’s never easy. But you don’t listen. 

You almost wish they would say it’s your fault, blame you for killing someone. Punish you for your huge fuck up. 

But they didn’t. 

Everyone kept saying the same thing over and over again. It’s not your fault. Well, everyone except for one person. 

Megumi’s words still plague you every waking moment—and nowadays, that’s a lot. Who’s to say someone you save won’t kill someone in the future?

He’d said it quietly, almost like he was just talking to himself. That doesn’t change the meaning, though. It’s loud and clear what he meant by it—he saved your life, and you took someone else’s. And maybe he’s right, maybe things would be better off if he never saved you. 

Images of your first mission together still flash in your mind. You were so scared to be going on a mission, especially with him. He was so grumpy all of the time, so by the book. You weren’t looking forward to it. 

And then you got injured, and instead of finishing off the Grade 1 like he was supposed to, Megumi chose to save you instead. You were shocked to say the least. The Megumi you knew would never have chosen to abandon the mission, especially when it was your mistake that got you injured. 

Still, the boy carried you out of the old abandoned mental hospital and outside of the veil, holding you in his lap while he waited for Ijichi to extract you. You still remember how it felt to lose so much blood. That cold feeling washing over you, the life draining from your body. 

It was that day that you and Megumi became friends. An unlikely pairing, but the unlikeliest pairings made the bestest of friends. 

One bad mission, one bad decision, and all of that went down the drain. 

Megumi has always felt personally responsible for you. He saved your life, he was your partner on missions. He has a connection with you that no one else has, a connection that has always tied him to you. Even now, after not seeing you for days, that connection hasn’t waned. 

He longs to see you. There’s a physical pain in his chest, a withdrawal from your presence. But no matter how badly he wants to see you, he doesn’t know what to say or do. He doesn’t know how to act like that day didn’t happen. 

Like he didn’t say the most fucked up thing he could have said to you. 

He tugs on his hair. He can’t get that look on your face out of his head. You were so sad, so terrified—you were looking to him for support, and he let you down. God, how did he fuck things up so badly? 

—

It’s been almost a week since the incident. With no meetings and no reason to leave, you’ve managed to stay in your room for the past three days. You know you’re falling behind on your training and you expect Gojo to harass you any minute. 

When there’s a knock on your door, you debate not answering it. You know it’s Gojo—and you know he can see through the door if he really wanted to. There’s another knock and you groan, tossing your comforter to the side and trudging your way across the room. 

You swing the door open, ready to tell the teacher to shove it. But instead of white hair and a blindfold, you’re met with dishevelled dark hair and ocean eyes. 

All of your words die in your throat and you’re suddenly hyper aware that you’ve been wearing the same clothes for two days. The sight of him makes you feel like you can hear his words all over again. 

“Fushiguro?”

He cringes at the use of his last name. He’s always been Megumi, or Megs to you. And even though he hates that nickname, when it’s coming from you, he almost likes it. 

“Can I—Can I come in?” He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, his face heating up. This is where he expects you to say no, to slam the door in his face. 

You open the door so that he can walk in, gently closing it behind him. He settles in on your bed, a motion so familiar to him it makes him feel even guiltier. 

You look at him with those sad eyes, rimmed red and outlined by dark bags. “Did you need something?” Your voice is so soft and gentle, no sign of the anger or resentment he expected. 

“No, well, yes, I guess.” He waits until you settle down opposite to him before continuing to speak. “I need to make this right.”

You scrunch up your eyebrows in your confusion, tilting your head at him slightly. He needs to make this right? You’re the one who killed someone in front of him. 

“I just—ugh, you know I’m not good with this stuff.” 

You offer him a weak smile in an attempt at comfort. “Take your time. It’s okay, really.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry. You needed me, and I let you down, and I said the most fucked up thing I could’ve said and—I’m just, really sorry.”

His words stun you into silence. He’s sorry? But why would he be? You fucked up, you hurt somebody, you made a mistake that cost everything. Why would he be sorry when everything was your fault?

He sighs. “Please say something.”

“Why are you sorry? I-I killed someone, Megs! You have every right to hate me, fuck, I hate me. You were right. Maybe things would be better if you didn’t save m—”

Megumi shuts you up by tugging you into his chest. He’s never been one for physical contact, never cared much to show his affection that way. But he’s suddenly holding you against his chest, squeezing you so tightly you can only focus on his muscles and the subtle smell of his shampoo. 

He holds you until your breathing is even. He holds you until you forget what you were saying before, until all of the guilt and the blame fade away. 

He pulls away, giving you a serious look. “Don’t you ever say that again. I wouldn’t change a single thing, y/n. Not if it meant losing you. Okay? Please don’t talk like that.”

His words are so tender, so emotional. One of his hands still rests on your hip, tracing circles into your skin. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. He’s always felt like a part of you, and you didn’t realize how much you missed him until you got him back. 

“You really wouldn’t change anything?” You whisper. 

“Not a single damn thing.”

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo

💙 Love Song In Reverse

by timetoboldlygo (@timetoboldlygo)

T, 237k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian gasps back into life without a single memory left. His friends, his siblings, his home — all lost to the fog in his head, nothing more than a mystery slipping through his fingers. What else was there to do but carry himself around in bits and parts, trying to become whole, a letter waiting to be written? He is – he is Mo Xuanyu, isn’t he? In this body, with these people. This family. He has to be Mo Xuanyu, he didn’t know anything else, even if the name sounded wrong. That was all he had. Well, that and Hanguang-jun. Lan Wangji, for his part, has had his taste of love and lost it. In all his grieving and searching, he didn’t expect to find another. - Wei Wuxian gets resurrected, loses his memories, and falls in love. Kay's comments: I devoured this fic, I binged it and it really got its claws in me. I could barely put it down because it had me that hooked. There were so many moments in this story that just peeled my heart open and made me ache in the best way possible. In which Wei Wuxian gets resurrected as per canon, but without his memories. Canon unfolds and of course, he falls in love with Lan Wangji. At the same time, we have Lan Wangji who slowly falls for "Mo Xuanyu" and feels as if he betrays Wei Wuxian. So many misunderstandings and miscommunications and they are struggling, but it all pays off in the end with a wonderful catharsis. Character-wise it feels more The Untamed-like and there's also some background SangCheng and features some stunning fanart! Excerpt: But Lan Wangji was already looking at him, eyes steady. He’d drawn his hands back to rest on his knees. “What do you need?” He could just pretend he hadn’t asked for anything. Lan Wangji would probably let it go; he wasn’t one to push if he didn’t think it was necessary. And it was a horrible feeling to ask this. But he’d said all those stupid words for a reason, so he let the rest fall of his tongue, water droplets on the lake. “Can you say my name?” Lan Wangji did an amazing impression of raising a dubious eyebrow without moving a single muscle. Mo Xuanyu wished for just a second that Lan Wangji was the sort of man who would just take a request like this with no questions, instead of making Mo Xuanyu unravel all the feelings knotted up in his chest. “It’s just that — I don’t have anyone else to say it. Informally, I mean.” There was no one who might call him gently. Xuanyu, his mother might have said. A-yu, come along! And he couldn’t bounce back at her, dragging his feet and demanding carry me, shijie, Xianxian is only three! I’m not tall enough! There was no one at all who might call him anything but a title and it was lonelier than anything Mo Xuanyu could hope to explain. There was no one who could hope to know him more intimately than a “Mo-gongzi.” “Ah, it’s okay if you can’t, I’m just—” “Mo Xuanyu,” Lan Wangji said, interrupting him. He paused, giving the name weight. “Mo Xuanyu.” The name Wei Ying from Lan Wangji’s lips had been cloaked in more warmth than Mo Xuanyu had heard from anyone before. Mo Xuanyu’s name didn’t sound like that. Lan Wangji said it the same way he said everything else. Serious, considered, but not warm.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, retelling, amnesia, memory loss, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, falling in love, grief/mourning, misunderstandings, mistaken identity, miscommunication, sangcheng, good parents lan wangji/wei wuixan, past abuse, no homophobia, jiang cheng tries, somebody lives/not everybody dies

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[seriouslysnape]

One Time Encounters

Remus Lupin x Fem! Student! Reader

Warnings: Sexual content. Smut. Mutual pining. Teacher/Student relationship. Age gap smut. 

A/N: Reader is of age! Part 1 here

Word Count: 3.5k

“I...I don’t know what to do now.”

Remus’ heart was beating a million miles a minute. His body was pumped full of adrenaline as his feet guided him through the halls of the castle from memory. Never in his life had he been so anxious to get to his office. His office was the target destination, and Remus was reeling the entire way there.

This is happening. Fuck. This is happening.

Remus was taking every back corridor and detoured route that he could possibly take. He was diligently making sure to avoid the Portraits, Filch, and any students roaming around after dinner. That was something that he knew that he couldn’t explain. Rushing through the halls while holding the hand of a student with a very obvious hard-on was NOT something he could cover up. The chances of getting caught were hardly a concern for Remus right now. He had a window of opportunity in front of him that was wide open. He couldn’t not take this opportunity. He’d always wonder “what if” if he didn’t take it.

It had only been in Remus’ dreams that he had been able to live this moment. In his mind, that would only ever be a dream confined to the walls of his internal palace. He had always scolded and corrected himself every time that train of thinking snuck up on him. Just the night before he had reprimanded and beat himself to hell because he had an orgasm with floating, moving pictures of you in his imagination. His self-control and professionality had always won out over his lustful thinking. It was always the same reasoning for why he absolutely, positively could not do this.

She’s a student, Remus. Don’t fucking do this.

He hardly considered this to be impulsive. Remus would be lying if he hadn’t considered possible ways to make this work in the best way possible. Remus had calculated the risks. He had weighed the options and ran through all the pros and cons. Of course he wanted this. He wouldn’t have kept bringing it up to himself if he didn’t. The main issue boiled down to one thing: you.

Remus would never forgive himself if you got into trouble on his behalf. You had so much life ahead of you. Your life as a witch was merely just beginning. The world of magic was just being opened up to you, and you were just now having the chance to utilize your skills. Remus couldn’t live with himself if he knew that was taken away from you because the two of you were involved.

He wanted to protect you, and he was trying to be the voice of reason for both of you. Somehow, he just couldn’t let this go. The woman that he was hand-in-hand with wasn’t helping his case because you were just as antsy as he was. 

“Professor, I’m not one to question the actions of my superiors,” You whispered harshly, barely able to keep up with his long strides as you rounded the corner to the hallway where his office was located. “But are you sure this is a good idea?”

Remus opened the door to his office with vigor, snatching you inside and practically slamming the door shut. He pressed you against the closed door, cornering you just as he had just a few moments ago.

“No.” He answered.

He kissed you then, desperately and with so much need that it nearly collapsed your knees. He felt a high then that was unlike anything that he’d ever experienced. His mouth on yours was beyond any of the ways he had imagined it. Just kissing you was making him grow harder by the second. His hand came to your face to draw you in closer as he used his frame to keep you pushed against the hard surface of his office door. 

Remus had committed himself the moment that he confessed that he harbored feelings for you that were less than student/teacher friendly. That line had been crossed, and there was no turning back now. He knew that this was against every rule written in the book. There wasn’t a single excuse or reason in the world that he could come up with that would grant him a pass for this. He was screwed if anybody were to know about this. 

This is fucked up, Remus. Obliviate her and forget it.

Remus gave that intrusive thought absolutely no consideration. Forget it? He nearly laughed out loud at that suggestion. He wasn’t going to abandon this moment and send you on your way magically brainwashed. Fuck the rules. This was something that he felt was worth the risk of breaking the rules and getting caught. 

It’s wrong, Remus. You’re better than this.

Remus’ internal debate was cast aside momentarily when he was forced to step backwards due to you pushing yourself off of the door that he had you pinned against. The kiss hardly broke, and Remus would’ve never wished for a moment where it had. He stumbled back further into his office that barely had any real illumination to it. The lamp that Remus had lit earlier in the day was still burning strong, but it only offered enough light for Remus to see what was directly in front of him. 

And oh did he love what he saw.

The back of Remus’ legs hit the edge of his desk, bringing both of you to a halt. 

The desk. How perfect. How convenient. 

Remus’ own subconscious had turned to sarcasm because there was no way of convincing him to back out now. If he was going to enjoy the journey, then so was his sense of morale.

“I never- I...I have to admit that I never really imagined this coming to life.” Remus babbled when the two of you stopped for air, but took the chance to begin getting the other undressed and out of your clothes. 

Nerves had plagued you. Your fingertips trembled ever so when you worked to unbutton the buttons on his dress shirt. The reality of what was happening, and what was about to happen had come to your realization. Remus didn’t even understand what kind of dirty things that you had imagined about him. If he knew even half of the scenarios that you had played out in your mind to get an ear ringing orgasm, it would bring a blush to his face.

The difference was that you hadn’t felt an ounce of guilt for it. Remus was a respectable, kind, and intelligent professor. He was a good person outside of a good professor. Why should you feel guilty for being attracted to someone like him? You supposed the answer was a weak one but still the truth -- and also one that you shared with Remus for his own dilemma.

You never thought that this would actually happen.

“Me either,” Your voice nearly cracked. “It doesn’t feel real.”

His eyes visibly darkened when your uniform blouse fell to the floor with a whisper of a thud. He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. When he had imagined it so many times, and now it was actually happening in real time -- his brain found difficulty in making logical sense out of it. 

His hands were planted on your sides the moment that your bra hit the floor, pulling your breasts closer to him so he could put his mouth to work. His tongue swirled your nipple, sucking and kissing them shamelessly.

A strain of a moan shivered from your chest. Your mind was already on its way to being a foggy puddle, and it wouldn’t be long before you were completely clouded over.

Remus’ slacks were discarded and tossed somewhere in the room without much care or regard. The head of his cock teased and pressed at the space between your thighs underneath the skirt that Remus didn’t bother to remove. 

In circumstances that were less rushed, Remus wouldn’t be this fast paced and desperate to get things moving. He liked to take his time and savor the moment, but this didn’t quite call for that.

There was a new rush of adrenaline, and at this point he was running off of pure hormonal energy. He swallowed hard at the feeling of his tip being just mere centimeters from where it wanted to be. He was so close. So unbelievably close. He literally just had to part your legs and pull you over his waist and fuck you the way that he had longed to. But there was a moment of bold clarity that stopped him in his tracks. 

There was a slight shaking in your legs, and it wasn’t from the overeagerness of the activity that you were mere seconds from partaking in. The hint of anxiety written over your features was enough to make Remus stop cold. He hadn’t stopped to think about how this situation was just as high-stakes for you as it was for him. He wasn’t the only party here, and he wasn’t the only one who was going to be affected. He needed to be absolutely sure that you were just as willing to take this risk as he was.

“[Y/N],” Remus stopped completely, looking at you sternly. “If you don’t want this, tell me now. If you’re unsure of this or have any doubt, then we won’t do this. I have to hear you say yes.”

There was hardly a passing moment. It was the most confident, surefire acceptance he had ever heard in his life. 

“Yes. I want this.” You nodded, your words clear as day.

That was all he needed to hear for the last crumb of doubt to dissolve away.

“Come here.” He rumbled, spinning around to where you were sitting on the corner of his desk.

His hands gripped the sides of your thighs, dragging you as far to the edge of the wooden structure as you could physically go to wrap your legs around his waist. His cock was twitching with anticipation, basically begging Remus to just do it. 

“Next time I promise I’ll take my time.” Remus chuckled, a genuine smile appearing on his face as he looked down at your sprawled out frame over his desk.

“Will there be a next time?” You swallowed, a glimmer of desire sparkling over your pupils as Remus looked into them.

Fuck. What are you even saying? Remus scolded himself. Next time? Absolutely not, Remus. Just this once.

Remus said it to himself, but he didn’t believe it. If this happened now, then he was nearly positive that it would happen again.

“I hope so.” He shuddered, his voice husky and smooth.

There was a slight pause, a twin breath was taken -- and you entered the point of no return. 

He lined himself up and slid in with the slowest speed that he could maintain. He shuddered out an exhale as he did so, keeping his head as level as he could.

There was a shared groan at the feeling. Remus’ mouth fell open as he rolled his hips forward to completely bottom out. It was taking every ounce of what was left of his self-control to start slow and tedious. This wasn’t a throwaway moment. He wasn’t using this time or using you just for sex. This was meant to be just as special for you as it was for him. 

He felt the way that you stretched around him as he filled you. His hands tightened around your thighs as he stood motionless for a moment, allowing both you and him to soak up this feeling. 

It felt so right. It was like you were a perfect fit for him. He had never experienced something that felt so flawless and so seamless. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he had imagined it so many times or if it was just that good -- but whatever it was, it was intoxicating. His head was buried in the crook of your shoulder with his chest pressed against yours.

“Doing alright?” Remus asked, his voice muffled against the skin of your shoulder that he had left a kiss on.

“Yeah,” You whispered. “I...I need you to-”

“I know, I know. Me too.” Remus took another deep breath as he stood tall once more, and pulled his hips back to withdraw his cock.

There wasn’t a pause before he pushed back in, allowing no time for second thoughts. He felt like he was spinning, and if it weren’t for his grip on your hips, he was certain he would’ve fallen over. Remus didn’t hesitate any longer or waste any more time. 

He found a rhythm, one that worked best for the both of you based on your most genuine noises of pleasure. It was a steady tempo, one that wasn’t too fast or too slow. He was consistent with his thrusts, and he didn’t leave any part inside of you untouched. 

The desk wobbled with his movements, and your grip on the edge of the desktop was the only thing keeping you from shifting out of place. It didn’t take long for stars to begin dotting in your vision. You had never had someone this experienced take this kind of position over you. It was new, and it was different. 

For now, any reservation that Remus had was gone. This was the rightest thing in the world to him right now. It was exceeding all of his dreams and expectations. How could he feel guilty about that?

Remus knew he’d be thinking about this for days. He knew that he’d be fantasizing about the next time and whatever he could dream up of doing to you. This was the beginning of something either really good or really bad...Remus wasn’t sure yet. 

You rotated your hips to meet his thrusts, allowing him to hit the perfect spot. You could tell with each push back in that he had been waiting for this moment. You could feel the pent up tension in every rough entrance.

“You’re taking me well. Atta girl,” Remus rumbled a chuckle, a little surprised. “How you doing?” Remus asked again, ensuring your comfort and complete pleasure.

“So good. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded.

Every nerve in Remus’ body was on fire. He was exploding with pleasure and satisfaction. The way that your mouth was parted in response to his thrusts and your eyes meeting his every so often was an image that he had to see again. The feeling of dragging in and out of you was addictive, and for a moment, he knew he wouldn’t be able to allow this to be a one-time occasion.

The noises were quiet. Remus’ awareness of getting caught hadn’t gone anywhere. Even with a locked door and dark room, he had a sliver of fear that someone would walk in. He’d never be able to talk himself out of that one. 

He needed to wrap this up. He feared that your friends would come looking for you or another professor would seek Remus for a work favor. In all honesty, it had been so long that Remus couldn’t last that long anyways. He couldn’t keep you here much longer, against his better wishes. 

If he could’ve had it his way, he would’ve kept you there all night.

His thrusts into you never stopped, and he could feel his tip prodding against the furthest part into you that he could possibly go. 

“I’m so...I’m going to...” You blubbered out.

Remus nodded with understanding, his head so full of fog that he couldn’t even form words. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he put all of his energy on making you finish. 

With that, you involuntarily clenched around him and a pitchy cry sounded out as you crashed over your release. He was close behind, feeling himself spiral. With just three more thrusts, he pulled out and spilled his own release. He let out his own groan of relief as you opened your eyes, beginning to float down from your climax. Both of you were breathing heavily, minds racing, and hearts pounding.

There was a brief moment of bliss as the two of you fell from your highs. You know good and well that you had never had it that good before, and it was taking you a little longer to recover. His chest heaved as he breathed, both with adrenaline and with realization of what had just happened.

He hovered over you again after a moment, watching you intently. He was careful when lifting your limp body to meet his. He recognized that starstruck, blown away look in your eyes. He didn’t know what to say. It felt unbelievably inappropriate to tell you how good you were, but he didn’t really understand why.

Remus felt fulfilled, but also very, VERY nervous.

This had to stay a secret. This was the most top secret, confidential, never-to-be-spoken-about incident to ever exist. Remus was a goner if anybody ever knew about this. He’d be shunned and disrespected, and rightfully so. This was over the line. Way over the line. 

He knew that he should’ve felt bad for having sex and sharing an intimate moment with a student that he was almost double the age of. He should’ve been ashamed of himself for breaking every rule and going against everything he ever stood for. He knew that he should’ve felt the absolute worst that he had ever felt.

But he didn’t. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse for what had just happened. As a matter of fact, he knew that this was almost a sorry attempt at what he could really do. 

This was a teaser. This was merely a taste of what it could really be like. This only made Remus want it a million times more.That scared him to death, and it made him do something that he rarely ever did.  

Remus began to panic. 

He reached for his pants (only letting go of you when he was sure you could hold yourself up) that were around his ankles, snatching them up and fastening them. He grabbed your discarded blouse as well, and he began to help you get dressed. You were looking at him anxiously, because he was making you nervous. He felt you staring at him, but he kept his eyes focused on his hands trying to get you dressed.

“Professor, I-”

“Shh. Stop,” He waved a shaky, dismissive hand. “Don’t say anything.”

His fingers trembled as he worked on getting the buttons of your shirt buttoned. Somehow, it felt worse putting the shirt back on you than it did taking it off.

“Professor,” You ignored him. “I...I don’t know what to do now.”

“I don’t either.” Remus adjusted the collar of your shirt back to how it was before.

You took it upon yourself to adjust anything else that was out of place while Remus put his own shirt back on. There was an extended silence while the two of you worked separately to compose yourselves, but it was an awkward kind of quiet that you couldn’t stand to sit in.

“Listen. I can’t just show up to class tomorrow and pretend everything is normal,” You grew stern with him. “We’ve got to figure something out.”

“I know, I know. You’re right,” Remus’ hands swept his hair back stressfully. “I just didn’t think this far ahead.”

You landed on your feet from sitting on the desk, and you stood just a few feet away from him with an apprehensive look. This was part of the whole “do now, think later” mantra. The problem was that the “later” had arrived.

“The professor-student relationship is still between us. We can certainly remain professional.” Remus said, taking a breath to settle himself.

“Yeah, but is it going to be uncomfortable?” You bantered back. 

Remus thought about that. He wasn’t sure how he was going to feel come Monday morning when you were sitting in your usual seat. Remus didn’t have an answer, which prompted you to go on.

“We’re mature. We can handle this the right way.” You reasoned. 

“Absolutely,” Remus agreed. “I just...need time to figure out what the right way is.” 

He felt stupid for being this unprepared. He should’ve been ready for this conversation. Now he felt like the world’s biggest douchebag -- rushing you out and not having an answer to any of your questions. 

“I...guess I need to go then.” You swallowed, taking heavy steps towards the door of his office.

Remus felt like he needed to say something. Whether it was something to ease your mind or something to make you feel better about this. But no words came out. He only watched you make it across the room to leave him in the silence and darkness of his lonely office.

“If this needs to be a one-time thing, I...I understand, Professor.” You stopped when you made it to the door, but he caught the slightest bit of disappointment in your tone

Remus weighed his options. Morally, that was likely the best solution. A one-and-done event. No strings attached. The two of you would go on your merry and separate ways, and neither of you would have that craving and nagging “what if”. That seemed like the most logical route, and the best one to take.

But deep down, it wasn’t the one that either of you wanted.

[beneathashadytree]

I love ur imagines especially the One Piece ones!! Would it be alright if you could make a scenario of a g/n reader who's an Ancient Weapon and like they're afraid of getting close to anyone since everyone they get close to dies. They're a part of the Heart Pirates and then suddenly the crew is hunted down relentlessly because of the reader and they decided to leave the crew. While they're about to leave after an argument with Law, Law stops them by kissing them and then they try to reason things out! Hopefully this works! Lubsss uuuu

NEVER A HOME - TRAFALGAR LAW X READER

Warnings : mentions of death and injuries, probably some abandonment issues sprinkled in, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : angst to fluff (I think)

Word count : 3.4K words (holy shit—)

Additional notes : I… have no words to say—but apparently more than enough to write 😭 I got so carried away while writing this. Honestly, I just absolutely ADORED this request, so I couldn’t help but write this much. Aside from all this, please make sure to check my bio! My requests are actually closed now. I do hope you like this, though! Much love to you💗

Requests : Are closed.

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

They don’t know when they’d decided to let their guard down. They don’t know how that constant nagging feeling; that creeping thought that ate away at their mind, was reduced to nothing more than a dull ache at the back of their head.

Born so different, and living so isolated—truly, they were destined to lead a cursed life that they couldn’t run away from. The circumstances under which they’d been brought into this world dictated that; after all, an Ancient Weapon instilled terror and carnage in every place it would set foot on. The fact that said Weapon was in the form of a human being was a tragedy scripted by the cruelest deity.

Something so horrifying, someone so overpowered, could only prove as a threat to everyone’s safety. Perhaps it was out of selflessness and a will to protect others from that gruesome fate of being tracked down and hunted for their relationship with them, or perhaps it was out of innate selfishness because they didn’t want their company and happiness pulled out from underneath their feet and leave them wanting—for whatever reason, they swore to never let a single creature in. To never stay for too long, to never speak too often.

But since stumbling upon that unruly group of pirates that seemed to follow the beat of their own drum, they’d found themself settling in. All ties to the wretched history of the world felt as though they were severed the moment they stepped on board, facing their carefree smiles and lively talking. The Heart Pirates, if someone looked too closely, were like a rowdy balm to soothe all the aches that the years of utter loneliness had left in their weary bones.

And, if they dared to admit it, the main contributor to that fact had been none other than their captain. Ever-enigmatic, nearly-always brooding, and startlingly sharp-witted Trafalgar Law. The man whose wicked smile and nimble fingers were famed across the entire Grand Line, and the name that struck a certain chilling fear in pirates and marines alike, had a startling calming effect on them.

They couldn’t exactly put a finger on how or why that was. All they knew was that Law was equal parts scary and endearing, with his bloodstained hands that still held the soft fur of Bepo at night, his cold demeanor that melted away when he directed his words to his crew (and by extension, them), and his own self that carried the past he never spoke of, in his tattoos and his clothes.

A mix of intrigue and genuine fondness had gradually grown inside them towards him, and they soon found that maybe that wasn’t so one-sided. A small, selfish part of them was reveling in the fact that he often sought them out in the midst of the crowded rooms of the Polar Tang, knees knocking and skin brushing. Tingles went down their spine whenever he called them into his office, with reasons that even they could see through as flimsy excuses to have them within close proximity. Even his guarded eyes turned a warmer shade of molten gold that had their heart thrumming in their chest.

With the new-found stability they’d found with Law and his crew, their fear of having everything ripped away from them, that was always very much there, had somehow become just background noise to them. And that was probably their first mistake.

That false comfort came shattering down on them the very second Shachi slammed the door to the cabin open one normal day, a frantic look in his eyes that was anything but normal.

“Marines?” Law swiftly got up, hand reaching for his sword at the same time they gripped the sheath of theirs, already alerted by the loud presence and thumping of feet outside.

“I’ll go outside, check if we’ll need you to interfere,” they said, turning back to Shachi who now had an uneasy expression on his face. “Spit it out. What’s wrong?”

“Uh, I wouldn’t advise you to go out.” He swallowed thickly, his eyes flitting between his captain and the person that was considered closest to him. “They’re… sorta looking for you. Something about… weapons?”

Their face blanched instantly, all color draining from their face at the realization that their past and identity had finally caught up to them in the absolute worst way possible. Shachi was saying something about him not really understanding what the Marines wanted with them, but they couldn’t register a single word that was being said. Their blissful days spent on the Polar Tang were nothing but borrowed time, and fate had sent a harsh but much-needed reminder.

Flashes of images seared into their memory finally resurfaced, reminding them of what had happened the last time they’d allowed themself to indulge in someone’s presence. As Law rushed onto the deck and began to shout orders that Penguin rapidly relayed, they remained stuck in the loop in their head.

As the loop played, they watched people they’d grown to care for get sliced and gutted so brutally that the ground seemed to soak up their blood and gore—sometimes meeting a much worse fate, plainly vanishing off the face of the earth without leaving a trace behind, as if their existence had never been.

The reel was only snipped clean in half when Law huffed back into the room, an unreadable expression on his face as he called their name and snapped them out of it.

“Yes, Captain?”

He clicked his teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d remind them that there was no need for stiff formalities between them when he’d been as honest with them as his tentative heart could allow him to, but he said nothing this time, and only pinned them with his piercing stare.

“What’s that they were saying about you being an Ancient Weapon?”

Say nothing, reveal nothing. That had always been their policy as they jumped from ship to island to ship. And besides, it was impossible for them to open their mouth and speak when it suddenly felt like dry sandpaper.

“I vaguely know of some of them,” he went on to say as he gestured for them to take a seat on the worn-out sofa, “But I’m sure that I’ve never heard of a single mention of your name—and considering the circles I’ve been in, that’s unusual. Why’s that?”

Swallowing thickly, they tried once again to push past that barrier and speak. This time they succeeded, but their words still came out very stilted. “Because they’ve all been… eradicated. Everyone outside of the Marines who knew, that is.”

Law inhaled sharply. “Pirates?”

“And civilians alike.”

Silence at that moment wasn’t one that they welcomed, as they often did while being in their captain’s presence, but instead an oppressive thing that snaked around their neck and squeezed their airways.

Luckily, Law saved them the trouble of having to miserably fight for words. An inked hand rubbed over his face for a second, and it took them that second to glance his pure exhaustion. “I think I get the general picture.” He sighed, opening his eyes again as he moved to sit behind his desk. “You’re on watch duty tonight.”

They could tell a dismissal when they heard one. So with no more words left to say—and none that they were able to, anyways—they nodded curtly, taking themself out with the weight of their sword heavier than usual.

***

That was the first of many, many times in which they’d directly endangered the Heart Pirates with their presence amongst them. It wasn’t just one time they’d find themself scurrying on deck despite Law’s exasperated yells for them to stay protected inside and let the rest of them handle things; wasn’t the last time they’d gotten into a heated argument with him over how keeping them sheltered was insulting to them.

The raw fury had flashed in both their eyes multiple times, subordinate and captain blurring the lines into something else entirely. The immense care and worry was plain to see in Law’s golden eyes, and were what fueled his anger, but all they felt was indignation and a deep sense of shame at the fact that he and his entire crew were fighting for them and their safety.

After all, hadn’t their very presence been the exact reason why they’d risked their capture in the first place? Hadn’t the fact that they’d been born that way condemned them to become targets for the rest of their lives, simply for associating with them? They could only dread what would befall the Heart Pirates when the Marines found out just how close they’d grown to the crew, and particularly Law.

It was that fear, deeply ingrained into their bones, that had them clenching their fists after another angry back-and-forth with him that ended with him slamming his office door with a curse. Enough damage had been done already, and hearing the small crack in his voice as he demanded that they let him do his job instead of recklessly throwing themself into danger, was the last straw.

It was time they begged for forgiveness from the Heavens and tried to undo the sin of getting too greedy.

***

The sixth time it happened by the half-year, they’d already come to the final decision, and nothing could deter them. Maybe they’d managed to fight off the Marines this time and leave them worse for wear than they were, with far less injuries on their side busying Law, but that did nothing to dispel their worries. It did nothing to calm that storm of guilt tearing up their insides.

And that’s precisely why they’d taken the chance to sneak past the bustle of the infirmary and into their room. With Law distracted like that, they could quickly pull a backpack out of their locker, and begin to stuff it full of what few possessions they had (after having spent so many years on the run and jumping from place to place, they learnt to keep the things important to them scarce and close by at all times).

Once they’d crammed it with everything that seemed of value (whether sentimental or monetary), they scrambled out of the room as fast as their feet could carry them without making their disappearance known to everyone on deck. They were currently moored to a mild-tempered island with enough inhabitants to deem it well-lived in and populated.

If they got off the Polar Tang now, they could stay at the inn in town until sunrise. By then, the Heart Pirates will have sailed away, and they could do some miscellaneous jobs to earn enough cash to carry them for a while. Once they deemed their savings enough, only then could they hitch a ride with any pirate group without feeling like they were a burden.

They’d successfully slipped past the scurrying feet in the hallways and frantic yells for helping hands from the infirmary without attracting any attention to them. Light on their feet, they hopped off the railing and landed on the grass on the other side that muffled the sounds. A light hiss followed them, and before they could get further than five steps away, they stumbled in their tracks as their (now ex-) captain materialized right in front of them.

Their eyes widened for a second, having not foreseen this. After all, wasn’t Law supposed to be holed up in the infirmary, stitching up his injured crewmates? They’d predicted a disappearance of at least an hour or two, even with his otherworldly medical skills and Devil Fruit. Their stunned expression vanished just as quickly as it crossed their face, and they stiffened in place as he trained his hardened eyes on them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Visiting the village, obviously,” they simply replied, not bothering to divulge more. It was better to stay quiet.

However, it seemed like he wasn’t buying it. Not in the least, if the skeptical look he gave them was anything to go by. Pointedly glancing at their stuffed backpack, he folded his arms across his chest.

Part of them grew angry at the demanding stance, while the other part absolutely crumbled in their chest as they thought of how familiar that sight was. Only before he’d been scolding them for spilling booze and not cleaning it off the counter, instead of catching them escaping.

They fumbled for another excuse, settling for a lame, “Restocking,” as if that would explain their overflowing bag.

“Funnily enough, I thought it worked in reverse. You go with an empty bag and come back with a full one.” His tone was icy as he snorted, probably at the idiocy of the entire situation.

A warm blush made its way on their face, partially out of the humiliation of getting caught in such a stupid lie. Gritting their teeth, they contemplated their options for a few seconds. Another fancy lie would only seem ridiculous and would never add up to their already-falling-apart excuses, and telling the truth would risk angering the captain and having him try to stop them.

Law had already crossed the distance between them by the time their thoughts had come to a halt.

“I’m not daft,” he snapped. “You’re leaving.” They opened their mouth for a second, and he interrupted before they could utter a word. “And don’t get smart with me and tell me that that’s what you’ve just said. You know what I mean.”

His eyes had always been intense, but now they were burning holes into their face, and they almost forced them to turn away. “And if I say that I don’t know what you mean?”

“Then I’ll call you a fucking coward,” Law barked a snarky laugh. “For running away again from the possibility of staying in one place.”

“Am I a coward for wanting to keep you guys safe?” they hissed, eyes burning with either unshed tears or anger. “Wasn’t it cowardice to force me to hide every single damn time we got chased down?”

“That’s not cowardice, that’s common fucking sense. Or did you want to announce your presence to the entire world?”

A watery laugh made its way out of their throat, and they had to clench their hands into fists and dig their fingers into their palms to stop themself from crying out. “Oh, please, as if the entire world doesn’t already know. The Marines have been tracking me down for years now, and—”

“And they’re not stupid enough to release a statement as to why.” Law interjected, clicking his teeth in annoyance as he read the stubbornness on their face that prevented them from thinking logically. “They wouldn’t want anyone to know more about the Ancient Weapons.”

Shaking their head, they took a step back, and it seemed that they were escaping this conversation on purpose—because they knew that if they stood there for any longer, they’d have to listen and believe in him. The body language wasn’t lost on Law, whose keen eyes tracked their every movement, and only grew harder with determination.

“We can protect you from their shitty attacks. We’re not weak.” He spat the final word out, as though the mere idea was an insult.

“Well, neither am I. And that’s why I’m taking the decision to walk away because it’s better for both our stakes.”

His hand flexed around the sheath of his sword, and he lowered his hat over his eyes for a second. They knew him well enough to know the signs of him shoving his feelings down and hiding them from others, and it hurt to know that he was doing this in front of them for the first time. But before they could wallow in the misery of being pushed out of his heart, Law had already looked up with an almost-cruel smirk on his lips.

“Is it really that easy for you to walk away from someone you love?”

His words felt like a punch to their gut, and it left them almost gasping for air. After having spent so much time running away from the reality of the situation at hand; trying to deny the very core of the problem that had them wanting to flee in the first place before things could get worse, hearing the words spoken out loud terrified them more than anything could.

It scared them; not knowing what to do with the feelings they knew endangered him. Law was incomparably strong, yes, but he wasn’t immune to the curse that followed them and wrecked everything in its wake. And to make matters worse, the fact that he’d already known of their feelings frightened them even more.

After all, no matter how much they liked to believe that they’d snuck into a crevice of his well-guarded heart as a close companion, they didn’t know what he truly made of this secret of theirs (if one could even call it a secret, after seeing the way they looked at him behind closed doors, or the lopsided smile they gave him when he shared a small piece of him with them).

If anything, it only triggered their fight or flight instincts—and at the current moment, they were leaning much further towards fleeing. In fact, their feet already took position to run off, heart hammering in their chest.

Law’s expression hardened as he observed their reaction, but before they could take off towards the town, his hand had gripped their wrist firmly enough to still them without hurting.

“Fuck off,” they snarled, in a last attempt to stave off any tears that might betray them. “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not. If you’d only listen—”

They snorted, eyes as wild a as a caged beast’s as he got close enough for them to see the beginnings of his unshaved facial hair. In their panic, their reply only confirmed his words. “Listen to what? You enjoying making fun of my feelings, when I’ve only ever respected yours? Listen to you get cocky and hold my feelings as leverage over me?”

One step was all it took for Law’s long legs to entrap theirs. Rough, calloused palms reached out to cup their cheeks, and before they could wrench their way out of his grip, a pair of soft lips landed on theirs. Rooted in place, they didn’t even dare to move a muscle as his lips brushed against theirs in a firm kiss. Only seconds before he pulled away did they regain their senses, and the fact that Law was actually kissing them finally registered in their brain.

Tentatively, their eyes fluttered shut as they began to kiss him back, leaning into his touch that contrasted against his demanding mouth—warm and soft, and everything they’d ever dreamed of but had never dared to take for their own. It was sweet yet bitter; forceful yet gentle. It was all shards of Law’s soul pieced together against the tattered remains of theirs.

All too soon, he’d pulled away, though his bright eyes remained trained on them. It almost felt intrusive; the way he seemed to be reading something in them that they couldn’t see. Breathing heavily, they couldn’t find it in them to utter a word amidst that fragile moment. It was as though a string had been pulled taut, and threatened to snap in half at the lightest pressure. Carefully, carefully, they both had to be.

“Come back,” he gruffly said, thumb daring to brush against the flushed skin of their cheek. If they strained their ears a little, and if they put faith in what they knew about him, they’d know just how damn close those words were to begging. “Sit with me in my room. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Swallowing thickly, they blinked back the tears that they knew they had little control of anymore. How could they, when he’d wrenched their heart open and left it beating out in the open like this? They mustered what little strength that remained, and nodded. “Yeah,” they croaked out, allowing themself a selfish moment of letting him take their hand in his.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t kindness. Trafalgar Law wasn’t kind. He was all rough edges and charred pieces, and he was infuriatingly stubborn. What he was was selfish. And if nothing else, they had faith in that selfishness that drove him to caring too much. They could, at the very least, believe in him at that moment, and believe that whatever came next they’d brave through together. All they had to do was just jump back onboard with him.

And so they did.

Taglist: @stories-that-shaped-me @finch-ya @wifeofkyojuro @livwritesfics

[iam93percentstardust]

More kisses!!

pulling your lover in by their tie + “wanna practice?” (Maybe practicing for their wedding kiss?)

Hi fren! I already told you you're getting graduation kisses instead of wedding kisses, but what I didn't tell you is that you're also getting proposal kisses ;)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

~

“Mate me?” Tony asks casually two hours before Steve’s graduation.

Steve prompts drops his cufflinks.

“Oh shit,” he swears and drops to his knees looking for them. They’re solid gold and a gift from his mom, who had told him that she had once given them to his dad for his graduation. He definitely doesn’t want to lose them. Fortunately, he finds them fairly quickly and stands back up, only for Tony to immediately take them out of his hand and deftly fix them to his shirt himself.

It's only then that he has a chance to think about what Tony had just asked him. Steve can’t deny that he’s been thinking about asking Tony to bond with him. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s been thinking about officially making Tony his omega since before they even started dating, since the very first time he saw him at that party. He’d even almost asked him after winning the championship earlier in the year. The only thing that had stopped him had been, well, Tony.

It's not that he doesn’t know Tony loves him. He knows that very well. And he knows that Tony is all in about the two of them. He also knows that, despite how sweet he is and how loving he is and how committed he is, Tony can also be very skittish when that commitment is brought up. Steve knows now the full story of what had gotten Tony pulled from his first university, knows how much he had been fucked up by what had happened with those two alphas, so he’s never wanted to put any sort of pressure on him by pushing about a bond.

He never would have expected that Tony would bring it up first, and he especially never would have thought that Tony, who once thought it would be fun to fly to Venice for a single date on a whim, would bring it up so casually.

Tony grimaces at his tie and steps in close to retie it. The knot he goes with is about a thousand times fancier than the one Steve had chosen, which makes it all the more impressive that he barely even focuses on it as he asks, betraying only a hint of nerves, “Should I be concerned that you haven’t answered me yet?”

“No,” Steve denies, and it’s true. Tony has nothing to be concerned about, even if he doesn’t know it yet. “I’m just surprised.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “That after almost four years together I want to bond with you?”

Steve gives him a Look. “No. That you, of all people, didn’t rent a hot air balloon and a megaphone to ask me in front of the entire graduating class.”

“Do you want me to rent a hot air balloon and a megaphone and ask you in front of the entire graduating class? I was under the impression you’d prefer it to be a private moment.”

“I do,” Steve says immediately because knowing Tony, he would somehow find a way to make a big production in the next two hours if Steve even gave him a hint of wanting something big and public. “But, sweetheart, you once sent me an entire jazz quartet for Valentine’s Day. I hope you won’t be offended for thinking you’d do something similar about this.”

“I’m not offended,” Tony assures him, and that’s good since he genuinely didn’t mean to imply that the casual way Tony had asked wasn’t enough. “I just… I don’t know. It’s been on my mind for forever, and you look so handsome standing there, I thought ‘wow, I really want this—just this—for the rest of my life,’ and it slipped out? Are you going to give me an answer sometime today?”

The tension breaks in a moment, and Steve laughs. His fingers find Tony’s own tie and reel him in to press their foreheads together. The air goes softer between them as they breathe together, chests rising and falling in unison.

“Yes,” he says once they’re both calmer. “Yes, I want to bond with you. I want to buy a dog and move into a house and raise a million kids together—”

“Okay, maybe not a million—”

“Alright, fewer than a million. See? I can compromise.”

Tony laughs and says firmly, “Three.”

“Three?”

“Two boys and a girl for them to dote on.”

“Sounds perfect,” Steve says, already thinking about it. “Three kids with your pretty brown eyes and your brilliant mind—”

“Or with your muscles the size of my head—”

“Oh, is that the only positive trait of mine that you can think of?”

“Well, honey, I didn’t think you want them to have your trait of picking every fight ever.”

Steve laughs and drops a kiss on the tip of Tony’s nose. “And it doesn’t matter how they present because we’ll never send them anywhere where that matters.”

Tony beams at him like he’s said the best thing he’s ever heard and not just acknowledged what they’ve known all along—that his dad is a terrible person who doesn’t deserve a son as incredible as Tony.

“And we’ll be the kind of parents who embarrass them in the grocery store—” Steve says.

“By kissing in front of the produce,” Tony agrees, nodding his head.

“Yeah,” Steve says softly, thinking about the long future stretching out ahead of them. “Wanna practice?”

“Always,” Tony says. And then they’re kissing, and it’s as soft and sweet as their first kiss in Natasha’s dorm room that Steve did for a dare. It’s perfect and beautiful, and he knows he says this about every kiss they share, but—

It’s the best kiss he’s ever had.

[igotanidea]

Growing up : Jason Todd x fem!reader

A/N: the reader vigilante name is Ego (messing with people heads, but not like a metahuman, she just has natural psychological talents). Previously named Cheshire (I realised that there already was a character named like that a bit too late and had to fix it - Ego is the story about it)

Other parts of this verse: Cheshire cat, That damn gala, Five years later, Tired, Benched (not necesarilly in that order, but Five years later is previous to Tired)

***

I was so, so, soooo tired my eyes were simply closing themselves without any involvement from my part.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Guess it had something to do with my broken and casted right leg. According to the doctor it's been healnng perfectly and the aching and itching that prevented my night rest was the first example of it. Maybe, but I still hated it. Over six weeks ago I had an accident during patrolling. Silly, rookie mistake got me falling down and before I was able to regain my balance I found myself lower.

Three floors lower.

It was a miracle I only ended up with broken leg. I mean, a little bit more impact and I would end up with damaged spinal cord, paralyzed for life, unable to move a single muscle from the neck down.  However, at the moment everyone who were fighting besides me held their breaths.

6 weeks ago

“EGO!” I heard Oracle yell through the comm. Honestly, her voice would bring the dead from behind the grave.

“Damn it!” Dick hissed and without any hesitation ditched his opponent and rushed to check up on me, doubling on my pain and guilt. I screwed up and now, the team was paying the price. Nonetheless he did not seem to care when he landed next to me in his swiftly, acrobat-like way.

“Stop showing off” I rolled my eyes, grabbing the leg “It’s not that kind of circus.”

“One thing for sure, your tongue wasn’t damaged during the fall. Where does it hurt?”

“Knee.”

“Show me.”

“It’s not that bad….” I tried to move away from his hands and it made me squeal in pain.

“Y/N.”

“Red card, Nightwing. You broke the “no real names” rule of Batman. You’re off the field.”

“Stop it.” He said, so calmly that it really did make me hold back my words. “Let me help you.”

“Ok.” I muttered looking down, letting him check on my limb.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but anyway, I need to get you out of here. It’s dangerous for you to stay any more than necessary. Anyone could get to you in this weakened state.”

“That’s the sentence I haven’t heard …. ever I think. Up till now, it was hazardous for criminals to meet me, not the other way round.”

“There’s a first time for anything, I guess” he shrugged. Oh, how I hoped Oracle got that on her record. I was so going to use his own words against him in the future “can you try to help me lift you up?”

“Sure. I think” I leaned onto the left, unharmed leg, that was supposed to bear my weight, but the second Dick held his hands towards me to support my efforts, we both heard a loud snap and I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. If it wasn’t for Dick I would fall again and as an addition to the leg injury would also get some bruises and cuts on the face. “FUCK! I think it’s broken now.”

“Both of you are getting home. Immediately. You better get her here without any more bodily harm or we will have to deal not only with disappointed Bruce, but also with enraged Jason.”

***

“I’m sorry Dick. I really am.” Half an hour later I was sitting on the examination couch, my leg splayed in front of me, while Babs was scanning it and using all of her cutting-edge tech to assess the injury.

“Could you just stop it? WE missed a chance, not the first time and definitely not the last one. This guy we were chasing tonight were not even that important and we will get to him this week, I’m sure of it. You just made a mistake, which frankly speaking wasn’t even yours.”

“What?” I shifted a bit to face him and the change in angle made me gasp in sudden piercing pain.

“Don’t move!” Babs hissed and I smiled apologetically, my eyes still on Dick.

“What do you mean it wasn’t my mistake?”

“I had it all calculated, you know. He was going for that punch, you were in perfect distance so you could get to him, but when I took a swing he used this as a leverage to turn and push you with right hand, not the left I was aiming at.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Dick. But I still take a bit of the blame. After all I was the one who slipped a bit. Damn those shoes need fixing.”

“You won’t be needing them for a while, Y/N” Babs muttered “you have a  disjointed kneecap and a fracture in your  shinbone.”

“Shit.” I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “How long?”

“Tim has better experience in the medical field, but …..”

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud, Babs” Dick couldn’t help but let out a laugh and met with our angered gaze “Sorry girls, but this is funny…. Isn’t it….? Ok, all right! Stop giving me this murderous look of yours! I surrender!”

“I think you’ll be excluded for something around 6 weeks.”

“6 weeks?! Can I get a second opinion?”

“From Tim?”

“Will do. Hope he, Damian and Bruce had more effective patrol in their part of Gotham. ….. Wait, you didn’t tell them what happened, did you?”

“Of course not.” Barbara scoffed and fixed the strand of hair that was falling in her eyes. “But I’m pretty sure they already know.”

“How?”

“Um….”

 “Babs!?”

“I might have used the open channel while talking to you…..”

“So, everyone knows?” Dick jumped from his chair and came closer to us “like… the entire family ?”

“ I’m afraid so.”

“You know what guys? It makes me feel so much better that you two make rookie mistakes as well.” For the first time this night I grinned happily.

***

“It was a simple task. In and out. No obstacles. No complications. No intruders.” Bruce with his most stern expression was haranguing us, like we were some newbies in the vigilante business. Like he never did anything wrong while fighting. I mean, I’m sorry, let me recall this statement. Of course, he never made any mistake. He was the Batman.  “Could you tell me, what went down there, that now one of you is about to be put in the cast and the other is pacing around my cave?”

“Sorry, Bruce, I’m just overly excited because of the fact Y/N won’t be able to run away from my surprise hugs for a while” Dick grinned and his statement made me curse under my nose.

“What happened there? And focus on the facts.” Bruce sighed and his face dropped a bit.

“I’m not really sure.” I tapped my chin “What do you think, Dick? What happened there?”

“I thought you hurt your leg, not your brain?”

“Side effect, I suppose.”

“That’s a shame.”

“I’m just giving you the opportunity to come up with a reliable story before Jay gets here and tear the batcave down in his fit of anger.”

“Fair point.” Dick nodded “how about this: a ninja came out of nowhere…..”

“A ninja?” both me and Bruce asked in unison, his voice desperate, mine incredulous of his idea.

“What? I hate ninjas.” Dick shrugged

“We know.” we both retorted together once again.

“I’ll just tell him I ditched you on the field and tripped while returning to the manor. I like this rebellious strike this story gives me. You know, that whole I don’t give a fuck attitude.” I chimed in before Dick could develop his idea further.

“Oh, he will never believe that you left me alone.”

“And why exactly not?”

“’Cause everyone knows you have a soft spot for me, Y/n. You wouldn’t endanger my health and life this way. It’s simply improbable.” His smile was so ridiculously confident it made me question my sanity.

“In your dreams, Grayson. “

***

With some help I was transported to my room, while I had to wait for the family doctor, Jonah Hill to come and put me in the cast. The thought of being benched for so long made me feel like vomiting. Up to that I was still wondering why the hell all the Waynes, including Cass and Steph were now back from the patrol and the person I needed most was out of reach. It made me worried and spinning into belief something might have happened to him. Luckily, Tim was there to keep me company.

“How are you doing, Ego?”

“I’m about to be crippled, can you imagine?” I rolled my eyes and Tim pursed his lips “Sorry, Tim, I didn’t mean to be harsh. I need to switch the mode from the one tuned onto your older brothers to the one tuned on you.”

“How is that different?” he asked sitting on the edge of the bed.

“With Dick, it sometimes feels like he see the little girl in me and I have to prove that I’m a grown up, capable of handling myself. With Jason, you know, we tease each other, we bicker and spite but it’s just a common sense of dark humor we both understand and that brings us closer. With you, I can be more sensitive, withdraw for a while without thinking I’m losing, drop all the pretenses.  I think out of everyone in this family you are the most insightful and I really, really like that, Tim. You might be the only one that brings some sense of peace to the Waynes. ” I smiled

“Thank you y/n/n.”

“You see, that’s consciously used nickname. I haven’t heard it in a while.”

“Just had a feeling it might lift your spirit.” He squeezed my hand lightly and I reciprocated.

“It did. Thank you too.”

“Y/n. Tim.” a male voice reverberated from the entrance.

“Morning, doctor.” Tim nodded in acknowledgement.

“Hi, Jonah” I smiled. He might have been an esteemed doctor etc., but he was dealing with this family for way too long to use his title. He has seen many, many injuries of Dick, Jason and mine, some more embarrassing then others, never knowing the real stories behind getting them. I mean, of course, no one ever told him we were Gotham’s vigilantes. Besides, he was at the same age as Dick, so I treated him like a friend, rather than someone who I should keep distance from. Even if he wanted more and was very clear about it in the past. Before me and Jay got together.

“What happened this time?” Jonah smirked

“Not much. Just casual broken leg.”

“Out of everyone I met in my practice you are excelling when it comes to self-distance. And you are a Wayne.”

“I was never legally adopted.” I pointed out.

“But you were raised by Wayne. With all the respect he’s not the one to joke about himself.”

“Can’t blame him for that” Tim muttered obviously referring to the part of our life Jonah had no idea about. “I’ll leave you two to it. I believe you are in good hands Y/n and …..”

“Can’t you be my emotional support here, Timmy?” I whined eyeing him with doe eyes. Maybe, subconsciously I didn’t want to be alone with Jonah. He still had that unintelligible tendency to flirt with me. Directly. Even if he knew I was with Jay. (speaking of the devil, I was still wondering what the hell was with him.) “Please?” this sounded more desperate than intended  but it was hard to give the air to the handsome doctor who I was not interested in but with who I had to keep good relationship. For the sake of the family and our health of course.

“Y/N?” Before Tim was able to answer Damian peeked through the half-open door. This little demon. Ever since he arrived at the Wayne Manor he had learn so much about people, emotions and relationships. Thanks to his natural intelligence he quickly figured out why I was acting strange around some family friends  and felt the need to keep me safe from any intrusion. Much to Jay’s annoyance since the red bat felt like his brother was stealing his job from him. What was even better about Damian was that he developed the ability to switch between his assassin, cold, sneaky self and the charming, innocent, youngest member of the family. And now, using his softest voice he was asking permission to come in and accompany me in the medical procedure. He looked almost sweet. Only Tim and I noticed the murderous glint in his eyes. He wanted to watch over me, rather than expand his knowledge.

“Come on in, Damian. I bet dr. Hill has nothing against your presence here, isn’t it right, Jonah?”

“Um… I…..” the MD stuttered and that gave away the fact that he was in fact going to flirt with me again and Damian just got in the way.

“See, Dami. Told you. “ I smiled and patted a spot next to me on the bed “You can even take a place here if you’d like.”

“Mhm. I think I’d like that.” He smiled, but this time it was more predatory then before “I could observe carefully.” And with those words, he jumped on the bed.

I really loved this silent connection with Damian. We never needed any words to communicate. It was extremely hard to get to him at the beggining, but unlike everyone else, who was approaching him with caution and gentleness I never did it. He was an assasin. He was dangerous, sometimes. He was harsh and extremely direct in his opinions. But that was what I liked about him. And while everyone focused on showing him the meaning of friendship and family, introducing Dami to the other part of life, he never knew about, I was rather concentrated on proving to him that all the traits he possesed that people assumed were bad could actually be used for his benefit. I think that was why in time we developed pretty strong bond.

***

“I think that would be it….” a while later Jonah finished his work and started gathering  utensils, almost shaking under Damian’s predatory gaze. He did not have enough time to get used to the little Wayne.

“You can ease up, now.” I whispered when the doctor turned around “I think you scared him enough. And besides, he’s leaving now.”

“Whatever.” Dami shrugged but eased up his glare. A bit.

“I guess I’ll see you in two weeks, Y/N. Just to make sure everything goes in the right direction with healing.”

“Sure. You know I appreciate your care Jonah. We all do, right Dami?”

“Sure.” the boy crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes

“I… um… I’m gonna go now. I know the way, no need to see me out and …..”

“Where is she?!” of course Jason chose this moment to burst through the door and immediately collided with the other man “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Dr. Hill came to provide medical attention, Jason. Which I desperately needed.” I explained in the low voice, accenting some parts of the sentence just to spite my boyfriend further.

“I was just leaving.” Jonah stuttered. Guess he still remembered his last confrontation with my jealous boyfriend. To tell the truth, I remembered it too - the aftermath were quite pleasurable, Jay made sure of that.

“Good for you” Jason hissed “farewell, doctor. Now, off you go too, demon. I need Y/N for myself.”

“Are you sure she wants it?” Damian stood up in front of Jay, the height and posture difference being so comical I couldn’t help a single laugh.

“Pretty positive.”

“Why don’t we ask her then? Y/N, do you want Todd to stay?”

“Hm. I’m not sure…..” I tapped my chin thoughtfully

“WHAT?! How can you not be….?!”

“You are late, Jay. How does the saying goes? You snooze you lose?” Damian smirked upon my words.

“Y/N!” Jason exclaimed.

“Oh, and now you are yelling at me.” I pouted “And I’m severely injured. And in extreme pain. This is just so… so…. “ I sobbed in a phony matter “… unfair….”

“Oh, come on….” he gasped and threw hands in the air in desperation “this is way too dramatic for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right” I dropped the theatrics immediately. It was no fun pretending when he already knew I was doing it. “I’ll be fine, Dami. You can go. Thanks for staying though, it was funny observing Jonah so intimidated.”

“If you need anything......”

“Don’t worry, demon. I got her covered.” Jace practically pushed Damian out the door and closed it tightly. “He’s a menace.”

“He’s… intense. But we both know he is a good boy, Jace.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He shrugged standing in place. Oh, the war of nerves he was waging against me. Of course, he was not going to show any care. At least not in the beginning. But I wasn’t going to relent. If he wanted teasing, teasing he would get.

“Guess I’ll be benched for a while.” I pointed towards my leg “and that means Jonah will be coming here to check on me. I wonder if he’s going to be as friendly as usually when he gets me alone.”

“Stop saying his name!” he hissed and fell onto the bed next to me, cupping my cheek. Unlike his harsh voice, the touch was so gentle caring and loving. “Stop talking about him. I hate that guy. He almost stole you from me.” He moved closer, leaning his forehead on mine and then he realized “You did this on purpose didn’t you, my girl?” 

“Of course. But I love how it turned out.” I stretched my arms and locked them around his neck pulling him closer. “Hi, Jace.”

“Hi, baby.” He pecked my lips chastely and rubbed my sides carefully “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll survive. If anything I would die out of boredom in the next weeks.”

“We’ll figure something to keep you entertained.”

“Like helping Babs in her woman in the chair position?”

“For starters. You will get to see me in action on the big screen, how does that sound?”

“I’ll make a crack video.” I laughed at him and he frowned “Hey, don’t be mad, Jay.” I laid my head on his shoulder and he exhaled deeply, playing with the strand of my hair.

“I could never be mad at you.”

“Is that a challenge?” I sneaked a peek at him.

“Ok, stop it now. I’m trying to be thoughtful and caring here. You’re ruining the moment.”

“Sorry. Guess I have tendency to push the point.” I sighed and felt his arms wrap tighter around me. It must have been hard and uncomfortable to hold me like this, with my leg outstretched but he did not complain. “What took you so long? Are you all right, Jaybird?”

“I’m good. Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, baby, I played a vital part in the ambush for the …..”

“ I know. I knew the plan we were executing. I was just worried and the crazy thoughts kept creeping in and ..... ”

“Hey. Stop spiraling. It's about you, not me.” he pulled away “look at me” I followed and once again our gazes met, making me melt. Jason was stubborn like a mule, ironic, impenetrable, acting like an edgelord towards everyone and keeping his distance. But when someone (like me) was persistent enough to get through, all the good things inside him were enough to cover up for the worse ones. Now, he was looking at me with so much love, attention and care it was indescribable ”I love you.” he whispered slowly, eyes never leaving mine and tears started falling down my cheeks. Guess we both sucked when it came to good emotions. 

“I love you too Jason. So freaking much. Please, don’t leave me now.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. But you need rest. Your body needs rest. Let it have it. I’ll keep you safe.”

“From who?” I laughed and he followed.

“Anyone.” Jason answered kissing the top of my head. “You do realize you will have to stay in the manor until you heal, right?”   

“Look who’s ruining the moment now.”

***

Third person POV

10 hours later.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Dick hissed when he saw Y/N walking around in the batcave “You are injured!”

“It’s not an excuse for being lazy.”

“I swear you are getting worse than Tim. You need rest!”’

“Mhm, sure, someone told me that before. I think I got enough sleep for a lifetime. And now….”

“Do you want me to call upon Damian?”

“I don’t think he respects you enough to come upon a call. He wouldn’t listen. Besides, what would he do?”

“Do you want me to call Jason?”

“Getting desperate here, Dickie?”

“Y/N.”

“What? I just… I want to help you guys. It’s 9 p.m., normally I would be preparing for patrolling and my body just falls into this pattern, adrenaline kicking in. I won’t be able to stay here doing nothing.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Sure. Remember what happened last time you said it?”

“Care to remind me?”

“You got shot!”

“Minor inconvenience. And it healed fast.”

“I swear everyone in this family is insane.” She turned around to the extend her cast allowed her and threw hands in the air dramatically.

“You included?”

“Of course me included. It comes with even standing close to you or Bruce. You are like a disease.”

“You’re my favorite too, Y/N. Now go. The hell. Upstairs.

***

She swore she won’t be able to fall asleep, but her organism knew better. Or rather Jason knew better. When he saw her limping up the stairs, he just breezily, yet mindful of the leg picked her up and tucked in the bed.

“I hate it!” she pouted trying to get out again.

���Don’t even think about it” Jason warned.

“I’m not thinking, I’m simply doing.” she threw the blanket away but Jason was quick to take action.

“The hell you are.” taking her by surprise he laid in the bed next to her, putting an arm around her, nailing her to the mattress. “I’m not letting you out.”

“So what, now I’m a prisoner?” she shifted only to lay on the side and face him.  

“Am I a punishment for you? Is that what you are saying?”

“No” she sighed “this shit on my leg is.”

“I should really kick the ass of the one responsible for letting it happen.”

“That would be me, Jay.” She pointed out “Are you really ready to fight me?”

“We’ll spar after you get back to full health.”

“I’ll hold you to this word.” she smiled lightly “You know, I like it when you’re here, next to me…. Maybe I should not let you go.” Her hand travelled up his muscled arm and then down, tracing all the scars and cuts, relishing in his presence and this little moment of peace and open vulnerability. “Not that I hold such power over you, of course.”

“Sure not. You’re getting a bit too cocky here, sweetheart.”

“Hm.” She muttered “Can I at least keep you until it’s time to go?”

“I think I can manage that. But since we got only like an hour left, how about I compensate for it by bringing you closer to me?”

“I think I can manage that” she whispered and hummed softly when his hands found her waist pulling her in and shifting positions so that he was lying on his back and her head landed on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The fact that they didn’t need any words to fill in the silence was the perfect indicator of how they felt about each other. Much to her displeasure she slowly started drifting off, lulled by Jason’s touch and gentling, his warmth and safety she felt with him. “Come back to me in one piece….” She muttered before the sleep enveloped her fully.

***

It was so damn hard to leave her and Jason’s heart ached at the simple thought of being forced to wriggle out of her embrace. Said hour later, Y/N was deeply asleep next to him, her warm, soft body being the sweetest weight he could imagine. Only now he realized he would have to go through the entire night without being able to hear her bickering through the comms and it made him shiver. She was probably the only one to understand his wicked sense of humor and help him keep his cool and remnants of level – headedness without falling back into the killing and violence with which he acted right after the pit. He loved her. He would give her everything and yet, she would settle for anything from him. She always claimed that his protectiveness was welcomed but not necessary. She didn't need his action, she needed him, his presence, time and soul. It was hard to comprehend at the begginig, but he was slowly learning how to love and be loved fully.

Jason closed his eyes, feeling her breathe calmly next to him. She was right, it’s been a while since they have been this peaceful and this close together and he hated the thought of being forced to break it. But she would understand. After all, she was a vigilante as well, familiar with the night patrols. And she would never ask him to stay back just for her whim.

Involuntarily, reluctantly, he started moving, the coldness of the air immediately replacing the softness and happiness he felt with her. Y/N whined quietly and adjusted her sleeping position to his absence, her hair falling straight onto her face due to the movement. Jason smiled, tucking them over her ear and caressing her cheek, which made the girl lean into the touch.

“Enough.” He had to bring himself upright. One more touch or kiss and he would forget about Gotham, patrols, missions and his entire family and lie down next to her again. She thought being benched would be hard for her, and yet never realized how much he would struggle through it.  

***   

“Babs…..” Y/N limped into the cave, dressed in Jay's hoodie and rubbing her eyes.

“Rough night?” the red haired girl turned from the computer, facing her younger friend.

“Something like that. I had a nightmare.”

“About? If you want to talk about it of course.“

“Nothing explicit” Y/N shrugged and perched on the edge of the desk “mission going wrong, people getting hurt…. the usual stuff.”

“You need something to keep your mind busy?”

“Yes, please. What do I do?”

“You have some tech skills, so you can be the one to walk boys through the patrol tonight” Babs smirked

“You want me to take your place?”

“Not fully. I’m not quitting my job just yet. But you can be the support. From what I see Red Hood has been unusually violent today and someone needs to pacify this one.”

“I’m not sure if it’s good idea for me to do it.” Y/N hesitated, picking her fingernails.

“And why exactly not?” Barbara frowned and eyed Y/N carefully “you’re working together on a daily basis. You are a couple. You know how to get to him.”

“I…. I don’t want to, Babs.”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s out there and I’m here. If anything happened I won’t be able to rush for help and…..”

“You’re worried.” Babs stated

“Maybe. But please, don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I promise. And believe me, I get it. When I was forced to hang the mantle of batgirl and Dick was out on the streets, I felt the exact same thing. But it’s just something you learn it time in relationship. You learn to let go of  your own fear for the benefit of the other person. You have to learn it or it will consume you and eventually lead to fights and misunderstandings.”

“Can you help me with it, Babs? I… I really don’t want to mess up what I have with Jay.”

“Sure y/n. I’ll help you. And I’ll make sure Dick have the same conversation with your boy.”

“I don’t…..”

“Hey, relax. It would be just brotherly talk. Jace is a prick but he loves you. But love needs to be mature. And he’s not there yet, sometimes he acts too emotional for the sake of both of you. I only do it because I care about you.”

“Thank you, Babs.”

"What are friends for?" Barbara nodded and would probably add something more if it wasn’t for the voice coming out of the speakers.

“Oracle, are you there? Why aren’t you responding?”

“I’ve just had important conversation with Ego, Nightwing.”

“About what?”

“Emotions. And you won’t like what I will ask you to do after you get back from patrol."

"Given our history together I think nothing can surprise me anymore."

"I'm sorry, is anyone working there? I need some intel!"

"Polite as usual, Red." Babs hissed "And in fact...." she glanced at me "I'm taking a night off."

"Whatever. I'll just handle myself then."

"Ego will guide you tonight." Babs smirked and I mentally facepalmed. She was so much like Dick at times.

"I hate you" I muttered but took her place in front of the screen "Hello Hood. Guess I won again. You are condemned to my advice."

"I think this is going to be an interesting night then, Ego."

"Oracle! Get Ego and Hood off the line now." Bruce hissed through the comms. "I swear I am working with immature kids."

"We're working on growing up, Bruce. We really do." Babs smiled, with zero intention of listening to his orders. Guess I was in charge after all and in fact, I started getting the feeling it would be quite enjoyable.

@pinksirensong

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

New Girl [00]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

(slow burn, endgame, as in you’ll be seeing some short term pairings here and then as well)

MODERN DAY AU

Word count: 1,564

Summary: Life threw you a curve ball when you walked in on your long term boyfriend making out with someone who definitely wasn’t you. Since living with him was no longer an option, you’ve ventured out at the advice of a work friend and found the absolute perfect loft to reside in. The only issue?

You suddenly have four very odd roommates.

a/n: a long time ago i mentally cast jensen ackles as disaster clint barton in my head and have not shook it since which is why his picture is used above👍🏼

[00]: WELCOME HOME

Chapter Summary: You find a new place to live. Your friend mentioned all the amenities, but left out a very important detail.

The loft was absolutely gorgeous. It had an industrial feel to it thanks to the brick walls and metal beams running across the ceiling. Despite that, the warm light streaming through the multitude of windows gave it a soft vibe. From where you sat on the recliner you could see a small, open kitchen that sat right across from a large dining area all of which was behind the large, ‘u-shaped’ couch. Honestly, the moment you stepped through the door your brain immediately decided that this is where you wanted to live.

However, there was one little flaw you didn’t foresee when you showed up for the interview/tour.

“So, you guys…are guys.” You said slowly. You laced your fingers together and rested them on your knee awkwardly. In front of you sat four men. Very manly men, actually. Enough so that you weren’t sure why your co-worker would think sending you here to live would be a good idea. Scott Lang had mentioned the open room and the great location, but he had left out this huge detail.

“Yes. Good eye for detail.” The man who introduced himself as Bucky Barnes said dryly. He sat at the far end of the couch in front of you on the left side. He had short, dark hair that kind of looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Sweatpants, a t-shirt, and scruff all along his defined jaw. His stormy eyes looked exhausted, his lips looked downturned into a perpetual frown, and it made you mildly curious since it was literally one in the afternoon and he was nearly dead on his feet.

“I know it’s hard for you to not be a dick, but maybe you can, I don’t know, try?” Sam Wilson, if you remembered his name correctly, replied to him from the entire other end of the couch. The black man had his arms crossed over his chest with a raised eyebrow, but there was nothing but amusement in his brown eyes. Unlike the first man that spoke, this one was dressed in much nicer clothes. A button up shirt and khakis.

You opened your mouth to cut in, but another one of them spoke up first. He sat next to the man who had just spoken, “Quick question, are you single?” You knew his name was Peter but you couldn’t remember what his last name was only that it started with a ‘Q’.  He had an impish smirk with sandy blond hair that could only be described as purposely messy. He had a sort of goatee that was mostly just stubble. There was a leather jacket resting on the couch behind him that he had taken off when you first walked in to reveal the tight, gray shirt he wore. “I think it’s the question all of us want answered, right?”

All the men chorused solid disagreements, but it was the man beside him that spoke directly to you. This was the only one who hadn’t actually introduced himself to you. He had come in a couple minutes ago, dropped down on the couch, and then just joined in. You had mentally been referring to him as ‘hot mess’. He had like three bandages on his face, his lip was busted, and he had a fading black eye. His blond hair was also messy, but definitely not in a styled way. More like a ‘I haven’t touched a comb since I was 12’ kind of way. He motioned to you, “Ignore him, the real question we have for you is: Do you have any pets and when can you move in?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “We vote before we ask someone to move in. Loft agreement.”

Hot mess spoke again, “Well then let’s—”

“Wait,” You held one hand out and eyes snapped back to you. “Scott told me this was a four-bedroom place, and that you guys were looking for someone to fill a room but…there are already four of you?”

Peter half-heartedly motioned to Bucky and Sam, “These two share a room.”

“Oh!” You bobbed your head with a smile as you motioned to them, “So you guys are a couple?”

“No!” Bucky and Sam both yelled loudly making you jump in shock. They immediately turned and began to bicker with one another.

“Why’re you saying no so fast, man?? I’m a fucking catch.” Sam argued.

“You said no just as quick as I did!”

“Yeah, because I can do a hell of a lot better than a maybe alcoholic still mourning the loss of his psycho ex.”

Bucky sat forward to glare at him, “We are not having this argument again.”

As they continued to yell at one another, while you watched on awkwardly, Peter focused on you with a charming smirk, “They have bunk beds.”

“Bunk… beds?” You questioned skeptically.

“No, no, no.” Sam cut in quickly. He gave up on his argument with Bucky to clarify this. “It’s two very separate beds, on opposite sides of the room. See, I lost a bet so now I’m stuck with his ass—”

“You lost the bet? I lost the bet and now I’m stuck with you.” Bucky argued back.

Hot mess shook his head, “They both lost the bet and now they bunk together like camp buddies.” The two men in question grumbled unhappily. “Also, we’re all super broke so we need someone in the empty room who has a consistent paycheck.” As if to clarify further, he pointed down the couch starting with Bucky, “Bartender at a sketch ass place, in an unknown band, and therapist.”

Sam held one hand up, “I’m the only one with an actual paycheck.”

“I have a paycheck!” Bucky argued.

“And my band is not unknown.” Peter scoffed. “The Guardians have a gig this Thursday!”

Hot mess grinned, “And where are you playing?”

“A Korean restaurant where old men play card game and chain smoke.” Peter mumbled.

You cleared your throat and tried to get this conversation back on track, “You didn’t tell me what your job is. Or your name.”

“Oh, I’m Clint Barton!” He quickly stood up and offered his hand to you. You smiled and took his hand to shake it then he sat back down. “And my job changes depending on the week.”

You bobbed your head once with confused, narrowed eyes, “I, uh, I don’t know what that means.”

Bucky shook his own head, “Neither do we.”

“Well,” You took in a steadying breath, “Like I said before, my name is [Y/N]. And, I actually do have a steady paycheck.” You motioned to yourself. “I work for a modeling agency—”

“Whoa, whoa!” Peter threw his arms out to interrupt, “You’re a model??”

“Uh, no.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I’m more like a manager? Book gigs, manage contracts, help them on set…” There was a pause where they all just stared at you with blank looks. Peter was the only one actively gawking though. You filled the silence with the first thing your brain thought of, “It’s fun! My best friend from high school actually works there as a model so it’s a lot of us just…goofing off? Uh… I don’t have any pets—”

“Meeting!” Peter barked and stood up. He gave you a charismatic smile, “Just give us a couple minutes.” The others stood up with less enthusiasm and began to march out of the room, down the hall. Peter gave you a nod, briefly biting down on his lower lip, bounced his eyebrows up once, then winked at you, “Don’t miss me too much, alright baby?”

Bucky stopped at the mouth of the hall with a frown, and when Peter tried to walk into the hallway he threw his hand out to stop him. Peter complained as Bucky shoved him back then pointed to the short shelf sitting behind the couch. There was a glass jar sitting on it with a pink sticky note taped to the outside that read, ‘Douchebag Jar’ in messy handwriting.

“Jar. Now.”

“That wasn’t even so bad!” Peter argued before pulling a dollar bill out of his pocket and shoving it into the jar. The two of them left to wherever the other two had and suddenly you were left alone in the pretty apartment. Without the yelling boys, the loft became more and more tempting.

You drummed your fingers against your thighs nervously. This was a weird situation and at your age you weren’t really looking to live in a loft downtown with four strange men, emphasis on strange, but you didn’t really have another choice. Your job paid well, but you had lost a lot of money after buying a house with your long-term boyfriend. It seemed like a great idea at the time considering the two of you were coming up on three years together, but when you walked in on him making out with a girl sitting in his lap the great idea died really fast. You didn’t get that money back and honestly you didn’t even try to get possession of the house. You just wanted to be out of his life. Regardless of the cost.

Clint ‘hot mess’ Barton suddenly slid back into the room on his socks making you jump in surprise. He threw his hand out broadly as the others came in as well, “Welcome home, roomie!”

You jumped up in excitement, “Really? You guys aren’t going to regret this!”