#that grill was ok but a party's something else

[marietheran]

there's a party coming up on saturday and I'm getting unreasonably excited given how in all probability it's going to be as terrible as last time. when I hid in the toilet until I was able to leave. and that was like after only an hour.

[lonelypep]

every smash bros character ranked by how good of a cook i think they’d be.

82: piranha plant

eating this dish will kill you instantly. turns out he spit some poison in there while no one was looking. and yeah, that sucks, but if you even accepted a meal from this guy i think you have bigger problems

81: ridley.

let’s be real, if you let this guy into the kitchen, you made a huge mistake. it’s like john mulaney’s horse in a hospital sketch: you never know what he’s gonna do next. you’re too focused on getting him out.

80: king k rool.

king k rool is many things. a king, a pirate, a scientist. but he is not a cook. he’ll try, but he has literally no clue what he’s even doing in the kitchen.

79: yoshi

yoshi will give you a dish and you’ll be like “what the fuck is this” and he’ll talk about how it was made from the finest newborns of his home planet. i’m deciding to ignore it but it’s really nagging at me.

78: sonic

sonic shouldn’t be on this list. because he wouldn’t make you any food. he’ll go to the local sonic and get a burger in about 3 minutes. it sucks. disqualified.

77: pac man

what can i say. it tastes like literal plastic. i don’t even wanna know how he made it. i’ll give it back to him but the nice thing about pac man is he wouldn’t give a shit.

76: bowser jr.

fuck this guy. he rage quit at making a grilled cheese. now there’s a literal canonball in the stove. now no one else can use it!! this is what happens when you spoil kids.

75: pikachu/pichu

these two are in the same category since they’d make the same thing. they’d get store bought french fries and fry them with lighting outside. it’s consistent, it works, just not really filling. and they don’t know how to make anything else.

74. wario

don’t get me wrong: he knows what he’s doing. he’s the burger king of smash. he’s this low because the burger is the most unhealthy shit you’ll ever have. eating it gave you chronic diarrhea, gastrointestinal issues, and permanently damaged your taste buds. but god fucking damn was it a good burger.

73. hero

he gave you a single piece of bread with butter on it. it’s not bad but…really dude?

72: olimar

he didn’t make you a bad meal, in fact it was one of the best here. but that’s because he didn’t make you something. it was the pikmin and he’s trying to pass it off as his own and the pikmin don’t know because they don’t speak english. 0/10: not fucking cool dude.

71: kazuya

honestly? i don’t trust this guy. i was too intimidated to even ask his name. from what i can gather no one even invited him to the party he just showed up and made a mediocre meal. what’s weird: someone came into the kitchen and claimed this guy killed their whole family. we never saw that guy again. needless to say, kazuya wasn’t invited to the afterparty.

70: link (botw)

don’t get me wrong here, link is a five star chef. he’s just really unsanitary. apparently he cut the meat and vegetables with the same sword he killed calamity ganon with. i don’t wanna taste that guy!! have you seen him?? not to mention he pulled the meal out of his pants. i don’t even know how it fit in there.

69: inkling

she made a pancake and i thought it was good! but i absolutely can’t condone this. inkling left so much fucking weird slime and shit all over my house. and got really competitive when she heard i was getting meals from everyone else. i hope they’re all ok.

68: ROB

it was so processed. the most processed food i’ve ever had in my entire life. it’s not his fault, rob is a great guy. but this tasted like literally nothing.

67: ice climbers

when they told me they were making dessert, i trusted them. but i let someone else taste test first. my best friend was sent to the hospital because of tongue frostbite. didn’t even know that was a thing. i made the ice climbers pay for it (they’re fucking loaded)

66: villager

he made isabelle do it. and she made something great! but i’m not giving this cretin credit for having the money to afford a five star chef. you don’t deserve it because you sold a shit ton of tarantulas villager!!

65: lucario.

dude got really mad and destroyed my kitchen. he’s REALLY lucky he got the burger PERFECTLY cooked.

64: male byleth.

like this dude knows how to cook. he can barely make chicken nuggets. he has to eat in the school cafeteria simply because he never learned how to cook a simple meal. but he’s a really nice guy. total himbo. love him.

63: ryu

i asked this guy what he likes to eat. big mistake. he then went on to say that his training regiment doesn’t condone copious indulgence (his words) and he lives off of nothing but protein shakes. you do you i guess.

62-61: fox/falco

these two went into the kitchen and came out with weird alien food. i didn’t eat it but everyone else seemed to enjoy it

60: greninja

when he first came out i was so excited. he came out with the most finely sliced food i had ever seen in my entire life. but it was soooo watered down. everything tasted like celery. how do you make crab taste like celery?? how??!

59-58: simon/richter

these guys both made the same exact fish recipe, came out at the same time, and proceeded to fight each other. i didn’t get to try any 😭

57-49: every fire emblem character.

genuinely, i can’t tell these guys apart. or their food choices. honestly, my bad. i’m sure they’re good. but where do i even start.

48: sheik

she doesn’t know how to cook. she kidnapped someone else. normally i wouldn’t put someone like that this high but a. i have gender envy b. it’s for the greater good (or so she said)

47: cloud

dude made a great sandwich but he kept screaming random noises while he did. personally, i’m just glad he managed not to destroy the kitchen. that’s a first here.

46: captain falcon

he promised he’d pick up some pizza but got into a car crash on the way there. eventually he got there after the car crash was all sorted out, but got into ANOTHER on the way back. i’m honestly kind of impressed

45: steve

steve could cook an absolutely fucking KILLER meal. he’ll even offer to do it for free. but you shouldn’t let him under any circumstances. he took 13 hours gathering materials and while the wait was, arguably, worth it, i never want to experience it again. (side note: we asked captain falcon to get some pizza while waiting which led to the aforementioned entry)

44: sora

sora doesn’t know how to cook but he’s by far the biggest name at this party. everyone fucking loves him. he’s friends with GOOFY. this dude hangs out with GOOFY. this guys has hung out with GOOFY AND jack sparrow. bad food but i could listen to this guy talk for hours about his story. i’m sure i’ll understand it all.

43-40: pokémon trainer

this guys organization is fucking atrocious. if he can actually get his shit together he’ll cook up some nice vegetarian meals, but that’s a big if.

HONORABLE MENTION: sans mii gunner

sans undertale is a world renowned, famous chef. his recipes are simple, but cooked with such love, care, and finess it turns a simple cheeseburger into a masterpiece. sans undertale would easily top this list. sans mii gunner is not sans undertale. he bought the real sans’ cookbook and thinks he’s some kind of cooking genius. and sure he’s got the recipes but none of the skill to actually make it.

39-38: samus/zero suit samus

hooray! we’re out of bad cook options now. samus is a great cook, but she’s so used to her alien delicacies she doesn’t know how to cook on earth anymore. shame, but i trust her to produce something edible.

37: shulk

he is really good at the grill. unfortunately, he refused to put a shirt on and made everyone a little uncomfy. that being said, he showed me the beach boys and i had never listened to them before. so he gets points.

36-35: pit/dark pit

these guys don’t know how to cook but the flew into the sky and killed some mythical bird for everyone to eat. i couldn’t have any, i’m pescatarian, but everyone else loved it.

34: bayonnetta

she opened a portal to a waffle house and a bunch of demons came flying out. she didn’t make anything, but honestly, absolutely legendary experience that was.

33: duck hunt

you’d think a dog wouldn’t bring anything meaningful. this would be false. that is the freshest duck i’ve ever seen in my entire life. (didn’t eat it: pescatarian)

32: king dedede

he made his legendary homemade mashed potatoes. everyone loved them. so creamy… weirdly perfect. too bad i hate the monarchy. sorry bud.

31: meta knight

meta knight is a great cook and should be higher. but i don’t want him to be. because he’s so fucking pretentious. he sliced all the food in front of everyone and wouldn’t shut up about radiohead. hate this guy.

30-29: daisy/peach

these two put all their private chefs together to make something for everyone. great catering, great food, but they didn’t technically make it. love them.

28: mewtwo

as if mewtwo wouldn’t just read someone’s mind and cook something. but it’s not mewtwo’s food…so…. sorry dude you cheated.

27: dark samus

she really surprised me here. she cooked up the most exquisite alien delicacies i’ve ever tasted in my entire life. should be higher. but unfortunately, i had to get a space parasite removed from my system by regular samus. honestly though… it was worth it.

26: ganon

he was rude to everyone about his cooking skills and wouldn’t stop bragging. asshole am i right? but surprised everyone by grilling his god damn heart out. he’s a bad try hard but like go off i guess.

25: isabelle

she’s trying her absolute fucking best and she deserves the world here. amazing cook, we need to save her from the island.

24: little mac

dude went so hard. brought new york pizza ALL THE WAY FROM NEW YORK. ok, not literally, but he made a damn good pizza

23: snake

full disclosure: snake doesn’t know how to cook. also no one knows he’s an agent. but he has to cook to blend in so you BEST BELIEVE this man is going to COOK like his life depends on it.

22-20: young link, ness, and lucas

all these guys are incredibly mature for their age. surprised everyone at this party. i had deep and philosophical conversations with all of them about appreciating life. i fucking cried. oh and they made everyone sandwiches, and even took my pescatarianism into account.

19: rosalina

she brought weird space ice cream and i felt my mind expanding as i ate it. love her.

18: mr game and watch

he feels like everyone’s dad! and he’s one of those cooks who cooks in front of everyone. dude flung his meals onto everyone’s plates expertly. love him.

17: joker

originally much lower on this list, joker showed up at my house and attempted to make a grilled cheese and made the worst thing i’ve ever taste. then he said something about gru from despicable me and stood in the corner for an hour. originally i had him towards the bottom but then he doordashed five gigantic burgers, ate all of them in one sitting, and then made me an expensive curry that tasted fantastic. dude went hard.

it was at this point i realized i made a mistake with the numbers. like hell if i’m going to fix the whole thing.

22: zelda

she made some weird food but damn was it pretty to look at! crystals, magic power, i mean good vibes all around here.

21-20: pyra and mythra

i feel like i should put them here since they’re confirmed to be good cooks in the game. but between you and me, i didn’t invite them. i’d consider some entries before this to be better cooks but at this point i’ve been working on this list for 8 hours i do not wanna go back and fix things please i mean this whole list is a joke no one should take this seriously

19: banjo and kazooie

these guys can fucking cook. they’ve been living on their own for a while so it makes sense but it still surprises me. they made a really big stew and even brought free puzzle games.

18: wolf

GRILL MASTER. dude knows what he’s doing on that thing. i’ve never seen better spatula work. holy shit.

17: kirby

kirby came in with some weird blonde hair and made some FANTASTIC ribs (that i didn’t have bc i’m pescatarian). weirdly, gordon ramsey went missing the same day…. i’m sure it means nothing.

16: mario

dude made some absolutely spectacular spaghetti. but he kept talking about how great he is and it really off put some people. kinda weird dude.

15: dr mario. dude brought 50 apples to the potluck. guess he doesn’t wanna see anyone in the office. and he didn’t because we ate them all. take that.

14: min min

she brought some soup dumplings which a lot of people hadn’t had! love her. literally fantastic. she had a whole arm for cooking. that’s what we call efficient.

13: ken

he’s kenough. he is amazing at barbecue. he can cook things with his hands, juggle, also he’s just a fun presence. (i made him make fake meat burgers for me)

12: jigglypuff

she showed up with so many pastries. like so many. not only that, but they were decorative!! she put so much work into that. love her.

11: luigi

he tried to make spaghetti like his brother but a literal fucking meteor slammed into his pot and cracked it. tough luck. then he offered to pay and i refused, but went out and got me some really expensive spaghetti anyways! he’s such a nice guy!! shouldn’t be this high… but i love this guy so much. he’s trying his hardest and i respect that.

10: toon link

toon link didn’t actually make anything. but his mom came and made everyone a salad. and honestly! his mom is some great company. she had so many interesting stories about his childhood. honestly she added so much to the function

9: terry

he is the BARBECUE MASTER!!!! literally what the hell how is he so good! everyone at the party kinda stereotyped him but he’s really really progressive with his views which you wouldn’t think for a big barbecue muscle guy in a baseball cap but everyone loved this guy.

8: mega man

the MASTER CHEF!! literally. he was on master chef. he uses thin round blades to slice vegetables, heats things perfectly, has an instance knowledge of spices, just damn. this guy knows what he’s doing.

7-6: bowser and donkey kong

common misconception: everyone thinks these two would have no idea how to cook. but these are FAMILY GUYS HERE!! they’re providing for absolutely gigantic families, these fuckers know how to make a sandwich and they did. initially they started off making separate sandwiches but they have a really similar recipe and decided to work together. and i really respect that. also turns out peach is just bowser’s kids’ babysitter.

5: palutena.

everyone expected her to show up with some absolutely mystical food. naturally, she showed up with the literal ambrosia of the gods. holy shit. unfortunately, she didn’t put as much effort into it as she could’ve.

4: sephiroth.

ok this guy didn’t really cook anything amazing. but his sheer fucking commitment to the vibe is literally legendary. this man has a long as sword he cut 10 veggies at a time with. he heat them with magic world ending fire. when he was done in the kitchen he surrounded himself with fire and gazed menacingly at me. his sheer commitment to the edge lord aesthetic is truly exemplary.

3: incineroar.

THE GRILLING GOAT!! this man is a grill master. he was prepared to grill ANYTHING. and i mean anything. fish, veggies, meat, fucking grilled cheese. love this guy.

2: wii fit trainer

she made the most well balanced and healthy salad i’ve ever had. and she made it taste extraordinary. she can be a little intense about fitness but i’ve never had a healthier meal in my life. it immediately lowered my extremely high cholesterol.

1. diddy kong

he’s about ten. he made you a pb&j. he had homework to do, but he made you a pb&j. he didn’t have to. he wasn’t asked to. he just wanted to make you a pb&j. he could’ve done anything else but he made you a pb&j. what heartless monster wouldn’t accept it.

[annwrites]

tell me i'm your national anthem. part four.

— pairing: homelander x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you begin to get a better idea of just how deeply damaged john truly is & he stakes a claim to you.

— word count: 2,618

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @highsummon

You sip on your iced coffee, typing away on your laptop, near to completing your essay for one of your classes, which is due in two days.

“God, he’s so hot. I don’t get why you don’t think so,” Emma says.

You glance up to her from over your laptop screen with a raised brow, watching as she stares down at her cellphone with a dreamy look in her eyes.

“Huh?”

She looks at you, then raises her phone, showing you a recent livestream of John. No, Homelander.

No, John. You hate his moniker.

He smiles charmingly at a reporter, who speaks into her microphone with an excited look on her face. “I’m here speaking to the one and only Homelander, who just—with the aid of his fellow supe, A-Train—saved a family of three from a near-fatal car accident.”

She holds the microphone toward him. “Can you tell us what happened here, Homelander?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at the obnoxious name.

“Yeah, me and my buddy and fellow supe, A-Train,” he nods to the smiling man at his side who waves to the camera. “Were just doing some patrols of the area—just something we try to do every now and again across the state to keep our people safe,” he says with a shrug.

“When we saw the driver over there,” he continues, pointing to a man standing near a blue sedan. “Run a red light here at the intersection. Just—” He purses his lips, shaking his head. “Carelessness.”

He sighs, continuing on. “But, thankfully, A-Train and I were able to step in and rush the injured parties: a mom, dad, and their sweet little girl, to the nearest hospital. I mean, to wait for an ambulance…there’s no telling what might’ve happened. What precious lives might’ve been lost.”

The camera pans back to the reporter. “What would we ever do without you—either of you? We are all so lucky to have heros like the two of you—like the Seven—saving and protecting America every day.”

The camera returns to John who shakes his head, waving his hand. “No, it’s the people of this great nation who are the real heros. We’re just here to do our jobs and use the gifts God gave us to protect and save our fellow man.”

“And save them you did,” the reporter replies, continuing on before Emma locks her phone, looking at you, resting her chin atop both her fists.

“I want him so bad,” she mumbles with a smile.

You grin, shaking your head—sweating nervously.

She’s loved the man for as long as you can remember. Used to have a poster of him—ok, multiple posters—stuck to her bedrooms walls growing up. And she’s seen all of his movies probably an unhealthy amount of times.

If she had any idea that he’d had his head shoved between your thighs just a few nights ago—that you know his real name, his childhood story—the real one—that you’ve had him in your bed, crying in your arms, sitting at your dining table as the two of you eat together…that he’s called himself ‘your man’ more than once now… You’re pretty sure she’d pop a blood vessel, grill you relentlessly on everything, and then never forgive you.

You tell her everything, but this…you can’t.

Honestly, you wonder if she’d even believe you if you tried, anyway.

“What do you think he’s like in bed?”

Your head shoots up. “What?”

She grins. “Not like you want to know how many times I’ve thought about it, but…he’s like the American Dream, right? I mean, he’s definitely my American wet dream.”

You snort.

She continues. “So do you think he’s vanilla, then? Only missionary? Or…oh, I bet he loves creampies. He seems like he could be the type to have a breeding kink. Nuclear family and all.”

You lay your head down. “I don’t want to know.”

You know he’s incredibly good at oral, if nothing else. And he’s a boob man. He’d spent the entire night with his face resting between both of yours.

And he really loves to cuddle. He’d held you like a human-sized teddy bear all night. But, you suppose it makes sense: being desperate for affection. Every time you’d thought today about what he’d told you last night, your heart had broken all over again. You’d actually had to hide yourself away in a restroom today between classes just to cry.

Maybe your period is going to start soon…

God, who would’ve thought in a million years that you would feel sorry for Homelander? But you don’t see him as that now. Not when you’re alone together. Now he’s just…John.

Honestly, in a million years you would’ve never imagined letting him into your bed. Holding him. Calling him baby. Or sweetheart…

“Just guess,” she insists.

You groan in irritation, raising your head. “Maybe he’s a boob man.”

She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, thinking for a moment before looking back to you while nodding. “Yeah, I can see that.”

You shake your head while smiling. “I have to get this paper done.”

You don’t bother keeping your balcony doors closed this evening. Not while you’re up and idly watching TV, at least.

Watch, you think, the one night you leave them open—as a reluctant invitation—will be the night he finally decides he’s grown bored of coming here and he never returns.

You’re entirely okay with that possibility.

You’d do anything to pass him off onto Emma. Then again…no, you wouldn’t. You most certainly don’t like the idea of him doing to her what he did just a couple nights ago to you on your kitchen counter.

But, she also wouldn’t have even thought about fighting back like you had. She would’ve been completely willing.

You wonder if that would’ve made him all the more angry. Maybe that’s the part that turns him on the most—resistance; a fight.

You jolt when you hear a soft thump to your left. You, begrudgingly, turn your head in that direction, met with the sight of the one and only Captain Asshole.

You feel guilty after thinking that, though. Especially after last night.

He’s just…emotionally stunted. And you’re not even sure at what specific age. Maybe there isn’t a particular one, because for his entire adolescent life…he’d been locked in that room with no one and nothing to interact with.

Tears sting your eyes.

He steps over the threshold, and you merely gaze up at him.

You’re not offering to willingly make him dinner like some trained pet. Not that you feel like it to begin with. You’ve already eaten. He can fly down to the local McDonald’s and pick up a Big Mac if he’s hungry.

Fly down.

He can fly.

What an insane thing to be able to do.

But also fantastical and amazing.

You wish you could do that.

He slips off his boots, setting them beside the door, before padding over, seating himself heavily beside you.

You flip the channel to some trivia game-show then.

“You ever seen any of my movies?” He asks.

You roll your head to the side, staring at him. “What do you think?”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, looking at the TV. “So, you’ve never had a favorite supe?”

You face forward again as well. “Not really, no.”

“Never had so much as a poster of me?”

You shake your head.

He smirks. “Maybe I should gift you a Homelander pack of panties.”

You look at him with a raised brow.

“Of course they sell those,” you say with a shake of your head.

He leans over you, sliding a hand up your thigh. “I could be with you all day long that way. Right between your legs.”

You shake your head yet again, but in disapproval. Even if your lip twitches in mild amusement.

He leans back again. “I’d like a glass of milk.”

You huff quietly—the playful moment clearly over—and stand.

Once you’ve given him his requested drink, he takes a brief sip, then speaks before you seat yourself once again.

“Well, you’ve gotten to see me undressed. I think we should make things even.”

You still—the hairs raising on the back of your neck—while you simply stand and stare at him.

“C’mon,” he says, motioning with his hand, taking another drink. “Strip.”

“You’ve already seen me without…bottoms—”

“So now I get to see the other half.”

The part of you he’s most interested in, he thinks.

You cross your arms, frowning, heartrate slowly beginning to climb.

His eyes go red and you jump slightly, arms falling to your sides in surprise.

Shades of blue return to you then, and he smiles sweetly, which serves only to make your stomach turn.

“I’m waiting.”

With trembling hands and stinging eyes, you grip the hem of your shirt, slowly tugging it up and over your head. You bunch it up, then hold it shyly against your middle.

“All of it,” he states, taking a long drink, licking his lips as he looks you over.

Your chin wobbles. “I don’t want—”

He sighs, leaning forward. “It’s just us. So slip it off, then climb into my lap.”

You waver.

“I’m not going to rape you. If I wanted you on your back with your legs spread, you would be.”

Not that it’s an unappealing idea to him.

You reach behind you, undoing your bra one clasp at a time. You slip it from your shoulders, tossing it onto the coffee table, then clasp your hands over your naked breasts.

He makes a beckoning motion with his index finger, so you step forward. Hesitantly.

“Straddle my lap.”

You swallow thickly, then do so, settling bent legs on either side of him, resting back on your calves.

He glances to your hands, then into your eyes with a raised brow.

You’d been right in what you’d told Emma that morning—your assumption about him having an appreciation for breasts—apparently.

You lower your arms, resting your hands in your lap, and he abruptly wraps his own around you, leaning forward, taking a nipple into his mouth.

Your eyes widen in shock, your body growing warm all over as he begins to gently suck, his eyes fluttering closed while he moans quietly in the back of his throat.

You, meanwhile, remain still and silent, unsure what the hell to do with yourself.

He releases your breast for a moment, taking a drink of milk, then immediately dives back in.

The TV plays softly in the background, so you choose to instead focus on mentally participating in answering trivial questions instead of…this.

Until he leans back, sliding a hand up your back, gripping your neck.

Your eyes meet his.

“Touch my head.”

You slide trembling hands atop his shoulders, lacing your fingers into his blond strands, and he returns his attentions to your chest.

You gently rub your fingertips against his scalp and he hums in contentment, taking another sip of milk, then sucking on your other breast.

It’s then that the metaphorical wheels begin to turn.

Constantly switching between taking drinks of milk and sucking on your breasts… Oh good lord, he has a breast-feeding kink, doesn’t he?

He just grows more and more interesting the more time you spend with him.

And then your heart breaks all over again.

What if it’s not, entirely, a kink? You know it’s at least half one with the feeling of his erection pressing against your shorts.

He never had a mother. Never had any form of maternal comfort growing up.

Showing up and asking—rather, demanding—dinner, your attention and approval, nearly threatening you last night after a moment of extreme vulnerability… He’d held you to his chest the entire night. Like a child does with a toy for comfort when attempting to sleep.

And now…he’s pretending to breast-feed.

You decide on another small experiment—he liked it the other night when you gave him affectionate touches—and begin to quietly hum a nursery rhyme.

This feels like some fucked-up psychological experiment: you trying to read him and gauge his reactions to this and that to get an exaction on his true nature. But, in reality, he doesn’t seem terribly hard to get at.

He goes to switch breasts again and you grow silent. Until he looks up at you, and tells you, “Keep singing.”

The two of you are lying in bed again with John’s head resting between your breasts as he takes even, steady breaths.

You run your fingers slowly through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

You’re nearly on the edge of it yourself when he stirs before leaning over you, slowly sliding his hand up your chest, then along your neck until his large, heavy palm comes to rest atop the soft, delicate skin.

He stares down at you, and you cup his cheek, brushing your thumb along it.

He smiles gently, tightening his hold, and you swallow nervously, your brows furrowing.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You belong to me now. Do you understand?”

Your eyes flit between his and your heart begins to hammer in fear.

“You understand me,” he continues. “Like no one else has ever bothered to. We’re together now. Got it?”

He can’t really mean it. Someone like him…he must be expected to carry on with who Vought and the press choose for him.

“We…we’ve known each other for four days, John. That’s not enough time to—to know how you feel—”

“It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t asking. You’re mine.”

He presses his lips to yours and a tear slips from the corner of your eye.

He lies back down then, snuggling close to you for comfort. “If I find out you’re seeing anyone else, you won’t like what happens to him. So, I suggest staying loyal. Not that anyone else could ever compare to me, anyway. I mean, you should be happy about this—that you’re the young woman I’ve chosen for myself. It makes you special. Being mine, that is. A rich superhero. The supe.”

He closes his eyes, softly smiling. “The greatest man in all of America—the world—and I’m all yours.”

He tightens his hold around you.

“Doesn’t that make you happy?” He asks with a flat, slightly-threatening tone.

Your fingers tremble against his scalp. “What about Maeve?”

He snorts. “She might be my equal—for the most part—but you have your own appeal. There’s nothing I can give her that she can’t already get on her own. Whereas you should be grateful I’ve spared you a second glance or thought. That I’ve let you get this close to me. I’m a gift, really. Come to add interest to your ordinary life.”

A narcissist is what you are, you think.

Does he think, by stressing how special and one-of-a-kind he is, that you’ll…what? Agree? See how blind you’ve been all these years to have shirked the prospect of idolizing him, and finally fall on your knees, beginning for his attention?

You already have it.

The roles are reversed here, in truth. He’s the one desperate to have yours.

You know you shouldn’t speak further, but you want to hear his response to you laying the truth plainly before him. “If I’m so ordinary and you’re so…extraordinary, why bother with me? What is my ‘appeal’, as you put it?”

He grows quiet, listening to your heart pounding in your chest.

Finally, he curls his fingertips inward against your back. “Go to sleep.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, terrified of him. Of what’s happening to you.

Dear God, why couldn’t you have skipped just one day of class? Or come halfway through the day instead?

Now… Now you would be paying for it until he chooses to call this sick game quits.

[klausysworld]

hello can you make a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson where elijah discovers klaus's obsession with y/n, after finding thousands of portraits, paintings, drawings, photos taken secretly, stolen belongings (perfume, panties, clothes, keys his home), Elijah confronts him about it.

Niklaus what have you done?

Klaus’s obsession had been going for months, he had rooms which were once empty, hidden from his family due to his design plans but now they were full of her face, her belongings just her. Canvases were everywhere, paintings, sketches, charcoals, chalk, any medias he could use.

There were boxed of her things, all organised accordingly, labelled and colour coded so that he may never struggle to find what he needed.

Now these things were secret, his eye’s only, he wanted it kept that way and so he tried to make sure he was private about his…tendencies.

———————————————————————

Elijah was becoming concerned. Niklaus was always missing, leaving in the middle of the night, not picking up his phone for hours, always returning in silence and sneaking around the house. It was odd to say the least.

So naturally he decided he should just take a little look through his brothers things like a any good father figure brother would do.

Elijah understood that Niklaus liked his privacy, Elijah did too but this wasn’t to harm his brother, he was worried for him, he wasn’t his usual…murdery self, naked girls weren’t all around the house and he wasn’t purposefully pissing everyone off. Now this should be a good thing apart from the fact that Elijah knew his brother. This was not a good thing. Something else was going on, something that had Klaus’ entire attention.

Finding the secret rooms weren’t much of a shock, he was often aware of them through the centuries.

What was inside was what was shocking.

He walked around silently as he looked at as many different portraits as he could. All of her. The same girl in different outfits, hair styled differently, facial expressions slightly different, the lighting positioned differently. They were all so different and yet the same.

The next room he got to had his hand covering his mouth, she was painted and sketched naked everywhere. The floor was scattered in her naked body. Her back arched as she touched herself clearly painted across a large canvas. His eyes darted around as he saw an array of boxes.

Hesitantly he picked the red box. Underwear.

Many pairs of panties, some bras too. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he put the box away, making sure to position perfectly the way it was.

The purple box. Pictures.

Thousands. All of her.

Park, grill, home, walking, running, shopping, sleeping, changing, showering, masterbating, having sex with other guys.

There were pictures of her in both Mystic falls and New Orleans, how long has his brother been following this girl?

Images of her at the mikaelson ball, home coming, prom, the party Marcel threw so long ago, the factions peace agreement party, she was everywhere, she was always where he was, no he was always where she was.

“Niklaus what have you done” he whispered to himself as he checked the next box

Blue. Belongings.

Jumpers, jeans, shirts, skirts, bracelets, necklaces, hats, scarves, teddy bears, books, a phone? Dream catchers, cards, fake flowers, perfume, a face wash, body wash, everything she had owned in a box.

Green box. Information.

Notes, so many notes.

She’s afraid of the dark

She still owns her childhood bear

When she was 5 her mother made her join a dance class

She can’t swim well -get her lessons

She had a birthmark ____

Favourite colour

Favourite food

Favourite band

He had her preferences ok just about everything. Her fears, her goals, he had her everything known. He had been studying her for years.

So much information on when she moved to New Orleans, which college she got into, how far away from their home. Maps of New Orleans to find the best routes to her house. Everything.

And then a little black box. He opened it to find keys. Keys to presumably her home, her car, a storage unit?

Elijah carefully out everything back and made his way back to his room only to bump into his brother.

Klaus’ expression dropped in an instant.

The silence was deathly, almost as much as Klaus’ stare.

His eyes darted to behind Elijah, then to his hands checking he hadn’t taken anything

“Niklaus…” he began quietly

“Why were you in there” he cut off

“I was worried about you-“

“You shouldn’t be, I’m happier than ever” he told him

“Niklaus this isn’t right- this girl-“ he tried but Klaus was quick

“She is my girl and that makes it right”

“She doesn’t even know you exist does she?” He asked almost softly as to not anger him but it appeared his attempt failed

“Of course she knows i exist! She’s mine, i love her, I wouldn’t love someone I don’t know Elijah!” He yelled roughly shoved his brother away when he placed a hand on his shoulder

“Yes you know who she is but she has no idea-“

“No. No. She knows. I’ve talked to her multiple times, you should see her Elijah, the way she smiled at me, she loves me i can tell” his voice grew quieter, calmer, scarier.

“She’s just being polite” he reasoned

“Then why does she leave so much for me? She wouldn’t leave her curtains open unless she wanted to be seen, i see her, and i love her for everything that she is” he whispered while nodding convincingly

“No Niklaus, no she doesn’t know that. She’s young and doesn’t understand the consequences of her own actions-“

“She is not stupid Elijah! I know her, she is bright and smart, she isn’t too young and pathetic, she’s perfect”

“She’s just a girl, an innocent bystander, she has nothing to do with our world do not do this to her” he urged

“She is already in my world, she may aswell be my world and id you for a moment think that you can try to take her from me do not doubt the thought that i will dagger you so many times that you never wake back up”

Elijah swallowed thickly, his next move would have to be careful. It wasn’t safe when Klaus was like this, obsessive. Possessive.

“You shouldn’t be watching her like that” he whispered

“It’s just to see her, so she’s safe” he argued

“Not when she’s..vulnerable. She’s not meant for you to use as a source for your..satisfaction or whatever your perverted mind-“ Klaus cut him off with a hand around his throat, his grip so tight he feared his head would detach from his shoulders

“How dare you? You-you looked at those? You went thought the photos? You saw her? Did you fucking look?” His hybrid face came into play as the image of his brother seeing her naked body entered his mind

“Ni-kl-aus” he struggled but there was no use now. Klaus had snapped his neck in an instant. He needed his dagger now. He was either going to have him in a coffin or stab his eyes out

“You should really mind your own business Elijah, it’s rude to pry.” He uttered as he dragged his body to the dungeons. On the way he past that room

The room he had for her. The room that one day, not too far from now, he would be able to bring her to, convince her that their love could finally come together.

After dumping his brothers rotting body he went back to check on his love, he couldn’t bare the thought of someone else seeing her the way he does, that’s why he must always be on standby, ready to kill anyone who looked at her for more than a second.

[yunhsuanhuang]

You Look So Good In Blue | Y.H. Huang

Inspired by Child Ballad 16.

When a teenage fling mutates into something vast and terrifying, two seventeen year olds at a certain mid-tier college in Singapore make a desperate plan to control their future, earn their parents' love (or at least respect), and get the hell out of this school for good.

i. the daughter

It's whispered in the kitchen, it's whispered in the hall

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair,

The king's daughter goes with child, among ladies all

And she'll never go down to the broom anymore.

It's whispered by the ladies one unto the other,

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair,

“The king's daughter goes with child unto her own brother–

And they'll never go down to the broom anymore.”

Sheath and Knife, Maddy Prior

-

/r/sgacads

is st cecilia rly a pregnancy school?? [o levels]

/u/anxiousorange

hiii sorry for the 29583th school admissions post today lol but i just got my o level results back and they’re pretty ok ^_^ so i was thinking of going to st cecilia junior college since it’s near my house but the more i hear about it the more i want to reconsider… like apparently the people are very party type which is not really my thing?? and ofc everyones heard about how its got the highest pregnancy rate in sg o_0

is this true? or just say say one

comments (8)

/u/academicweapon

As a SCian it’s not true LOL none of us get bitches

/u/theatrekidaf

skill issue

/u/sharpsdisposal

we’re too busy failing physics :/

/u/zombiegrave

q: how many scians does it take to change a lightbulb?

a: none. they like it better darker 

/u/aw_bass34

Q: What’s the only test SC girls can pass?

A: Pregnancy test :P

/u/gregorythomas91 [s]

Damn old rumour, probably from 1990s, 2000s around there. But it’s not really unfounded. Especially with what happened in 2008.

/u/anxiousorange

what happened? im scared lol

/u/gregorythomas91 [s]

You haven’t heard meh? It was a big deal back then, I'm shocked they've covered it up that well. Let me try and remember. 

-

You never told me what really happened over those few blistering months in 2008, but I guess I wasn’t alone in that. Even when the newspapers shoved a mic in your face, even when you were being grilled by the lawyers, even when you were standing on that trap door, waiting for the drop– what really happened was a secret you’d bring to the grave.

So it’s all inference and extrapolation and linear correlation– sue me. How else am I going to make sense of that moment? How else do I come to terms with why you did what you did? Could I have known? Could I have stopped it? Was I even, when it came down to it, your friend– or was I just somebody who let you copy his lecture notes?

I don’t know. What I do know is this:

It was some mid-week mid-afternoon, indistinguishable from any other. The bell had just rung, and the whitewashed corridors were packed with sweaty kids rushing to PE, squeezing past those dragging their feet from class to class. We were part of the latter group, squinting against the September sun as we ambled across the quadrangle to home class. Above us, the school motto loomed in oversized light-blue letters: Remember you are in the presence of God. 

I was mentally calculating how long the Malay stall queue would be when you said, casual as always, “Eh, pass me your market failure notes later, can? I’m yellow-slipping after GP.”

I raised an eyebrow. You weren’t a stranger to leaving school early, but you’d been doing it more and more often lately, and at this point I hadn’t seen you stay for Shooting in ages. As your club captain, I was supposed to be concerned. As a friend– well, I was intrigued. Of course I’d heard the rumours, passed from homeroom to homeroom, Friendster account to Friendster account. Who in St Cecilia’s hadn’t?  “Is this related to whatever you and Camilla Wong have going on?” 

“Cam’s not my girlfriend,” you said, after a brief, completely unsuspicious pause.

I snorted. “She doesn’t let anyone in this school call her that but you, dumbass. ”

You ducked your head down to hide a smile, your dress-code fringe falling into your eyes. It was a strangely endearing habit. “Fine lah. We’re– seeing each other.” Then you continued, hurriedly, “But don’t let anyone else know, OK?”

“Fine, I'll write you off CCA for today. But don’t make it a habit, ar? Hold pen, not hold hand.” Despite myself, I grinned. Sure, the two of you made an unlikely couple. Wong was an ex-Convent girl and student councillor, all relentless energy and long hair tied so high it was prone to hit people when she spun, while the only time I’d ever seen you really alive was behind the barrel of an air pistol. Back then, I thought it was cute. Opposites attract– wasn’t that the backbone of any drama worth its salt?

I wouldn’t realise, until later, that despite how different the two of you appeared, at the core of it you were the same– pale and skinny and drowning in your school uniform, searching for exits the moment you stepped into a room. Always, always halfway out the door: of your school, of your body, of the life you knew.

But back then it was just a September afternoon, and we were only seventeen. You smiled back at me, all cheer, like you saw something I didn’t, like you saw something I never would.

-

In the end, though, this isn’t my story. This is yours. So let’s tell it your way.

-

The newly minted 1T26 trickled slowly from assembly into the classroom, chopeing the best desks and nervously rotating between the same few ice-breakers: orientation, secondary schools, O-Level points. As you entered, you cast a glance over the sea of blue pinafores and green pants. Still reeling from the sheer increase in the female population, you took a desk at the back, between the ancient, peeling noticeboard and the window looking out on the covered tennis courts. You were tall enough to see over all the heads, anyway.

Soon, your home tutor arrived, a round-faced lady toting an oversized Cath Kidston duffle bag, and wrote her name on the board in neat block letters: Mdm Alvares. The class stood to greet her, chairs scraping hurriedly against the linoleum. She beamed back, her smile all teeth, and was busy setting up the visualiser when the door slammed open.

The class spun in their seats. “Sorry,” the intruder sheepishly said, leaning against the doorframe. Some of her hair had fallen half-out of her high ponytail, her pinafore already wrinkled at the hem. A dusting of freckles covered her pink cheeks. 

Mdm Alvares squinted at the girl, then the laminated name list. “And you are?”

“Camilla Wong.”

Mdm Alvares looked out over the class, scanning the rows, and her eyes landed on an empty seat in the corner whose sole occupant was your beat-up Jansport. Realising where this was going, you sighed, putting your bag on the floor.

Camilla smiled, made her way in–

and put her bag down at another empty seat, half a class away.

–

There was nothing in this world you hated more than 4PM Maths lectures. That day the aircon was actually working, which you would normally have been grateful for, except for the fact that that sharp, recycled wind was blasting directly at the very back rows of LT5, right onto your face.

You were trying so hard to 1) figure out plane vectors and 2) stop yourself from getting hypothermia that you wouldn't be able to recall, later, the exact moment that Camilla fell asleep on your shoulder.

When you realised this, you froze. Oh, you thought, and didn't know what else to think. On one hand, it would’ve been so easy to wake her. Just a poke from your pen, and she would’ve jolted up almost instantly. On the other hand, though, her long eyebrows brushed against her freckled cheeks, and her chest rose and fell in these small, slight motions, and–

Before, you had only ever seen her as a baby-blue blur in the corners of your sight, always in motion even in the earliest of classes. But Camilla, asleep, tucked in the crevice between your shoulder and neck–it felt fragile, thrumming, tense. Like something made of glass, nestled gently in your hand, that it would only have taken a squeeze to splinter.

The next twenty-two minutes were the longest twenty-two minutes of your entire life so far. Even so, when the bell rang and Camilla pulled herself upright, you found yourself missing it already.

– 

After that, it was like a switch had been flipped in your brain. It was only then that you began to really Notice Camilla, capital N, italics. You noticed her with her head bowed in mass, noticed her shoving fishball noodles into her mouth at lunch, noticed her arguing with your classmates over technicalities in GP. But you noticed her the most in Monday zeriod house meetings, when the artificial grass glimmered with dew and the syrupy dawn light made the whole world seem like a Hollywood coming-of-age movie. You watched her toss her braids over her shoulder, wipe the pearls of sweat off her flushed face. Her red, red shirt rode up as she stretched, revealing a sliver of pale flesh above the waistband of her shorts–

It took until then for her to notice you Noticing. Her eyes flickered over to you, she winked, and blew a kiss. 

You felt as if you’d walked out onto the PIE and been hit by a truck. It was a wonder every single smoke alarm in the school didn’t go off right that moment–a cacophony of ringing like firecrackers all strung up, exploding pop-pop-pop from the foyer to the science block to the hostel. It swallowed every other sound, every other thought. Then she turned away, a grin still lingering on the corners of her lips.

–

During one of your lunch breaks, Camilla pulled you out of class. She had to ask you something about your PW survey, she said. As far as you were aware, you weren't in the same PW group. You knew this. She knew this. The entirety of 1T26 knew this, too, so you headed down to one of the wooden picnic tables underneath Block D, the one tucked beneath the staircase next to St Pat’s room. Both of you hovered awkwardly around the bench for a moment, doing the calculations in your head–how close to sit? What to say? You shifted from foot to foot.

All of a sudden, Camilla slammed her hand down on the table. You jumped. “Walao eh. I legit can’t do this anymore. Is this a Thing? Are we having a Thing?”

You swallowed, eyes darting.

“Make up your mind, sia.” She rolled her eyes, laughing under her breath. “St. Francis boys, I swear.”

“No, wait, yes–” The words spilled, embarrassingly and pitifully, out of your mouth. You feared you were not beating the all-boys’ school stereotypes that day. “I mean, I did, but, um–” Just stop, your brain chanted. What're you saying? You're only making it worse. Kill yourself. Kill yourself. Kill yourself.

“So that’s a yes,” Camilla said, and surged forward to shut you up herself.

–

The next thing you knew, you were stumbling into the stairwell together, the door banging noisily shut behind you. “Why–” Camilla started, and you said, “Nobody ever uses Staircase 6. Now come on.” You pushed her up against the curved concrete wall, not caring that the low ceiling scraped against your head. There was that wild, exhilarated look on her face again, like she still couldn’t believe that she was actually doing this. Beautiful, even in the dull grey light. Her nails dug crescents into your skin. 

The air was all heat, sweat, too much cherry blossom perfume. You worked at your tie–quicker than you’d ever been able to in all your years of schooling–as she undid the buttons on her uniform shirt, revealing the freckles that dusted her pale shoulders like so many stars. As you unbuckled her bra in one quick motion, she gasped, then giggled. “Damn, Yeoh. You’re good at this. Is there anyone you haven’t told me about?” 

In between kisses, you came up for air. You could've made a joke about not having many opportunities to practise in St Francis, but the real truth was that your desperation shocked even yourself– this wasn’t the careful boy that your pastors, parents, teachers, knew. Your heart threatened to burst from your chest like the bullet from a gun. For the first time in sixteen years, it felt– really felt– like you were fully alive.

“Just you, Cam.” You dipped back down. “Only you.”

ii. the yew tree

He's ta'en his sister down to his father's deer park

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

With his yew-tree bow and arrow slung fast across his back

And they’ll never go down to the broom anymore.

You made close acquaintances with every dark corner of the school. When June came, you merely shifted your meeting points closer to home– behind heartland malls in Tampines or in the nooks and crannies of Cam’s sprawling landed estate along Cluny Road. Neither of you were sure, yet, if you were doing it Right– things like bubble tea dates, strolls in Botanics, or mugging in NLB (god, you should have been mugging, mid-years were in a week and neither of you had cracked a book). But if it wasn’t capital R Right, why did it feel like it was? You thought you had developed a case of myopia–Cam in focus, everything else blurred.

All that to say: the holidays were closer to ending than beginning when you and Cam found yourselves in an overgrown grassy patch tucked somewhere in between a storm drain and the wrought-iron back gate of some minister’s landed property. It had sounded a lot more romantic in theory, but the cloudless sky was the same powder-blue as your school uniforms, and the sun beat down like it had a personal vendetta against you. There was nothing much for shade except for a single banana tree, which you lay crumpled under, sweat-sheened and reddened. The last of the endorphins were beginning to wear off.

Cam’s ringtone cut through the air, a chiptune rendition of some Green Day song.  She sighed, then propped herself up on one elbow as she picked up her phone. Her hair was loose, cascading down her back like smooth dark water. You fought the urge to run your hands through it.

“Ba!” she chirped. The cheer didn’t show on her face. “Ba, of course I'm still at the library.  I’m with Lucia. Yes, Ba, I’m sure. Don’t call her, can?” She flinched as though she’d been slapped– a familiar, instinctual tic. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll study hard, I promise. Byebye.” 

She hung up and sighed, leaning backwards. “I think I’ll need to go soon.”

“Soon,” you promised. You were lying flat on the warm grass, arms crossed over your chest like you were about to be lowered into the grave. 

“Soon,” Cam repeated. “Fuck, I hate that we have to sneak around like this, sia. I keep thinking that he’s going to jump out at me from any corner, that any random passerby can tell I’m not where I’m supposed to be. It’s like this whole island has eyes, and maybe it does.” As she lay back down beside you on the grass, her oversized t-shirt–Camp Veritas Counsellor 2007–drooped down to reveal the blades of her shoulder, the ones you’d kissed just moments ago. Her voice lowered. “You know ah, the moment we get our A-Levels back, I’m getting out of this city. Australia, London, LA, anywhere. There’s nothing here for me.”

“No leh.” She can’t say that, you thought, pettily, awfully. She had a mansion and a scholarship and a real iPhone. She had the freedom to just leave. To go somewhere without worrying about the money. You had– what? Parents on the edge of divorce and a bankrupt family business? So much for inheritance. So much for a glorious kingdom. Then you had banished the thought from your head. “You have me.”

“I guess I do.” There was a pause. Then she asked, quick and soft and desperate: “Hey, if I asked you to do something, you’d do it, right?”

You reached over, squeezing Cam’s hand tight in yours. The leaves of the banana tree shivered. “I’d do anything for you,” you told her, and it was true. It was really true.

–

Your grades wobbled, then declined, then plummeted, and you found, to your surprise, that you couldn’t care less. You’d made a lot of bad decisions in your life. Try as you might, you couldn’t count Cam among them.

This, then, might have been why you were lying on your bedroom floor, squinting at your Nokia at four AM on a Monday morning. An empty can rolled lazily from your hand, on an epic journey across the glossy faux-marble floor. The house, for once, was still. Even your parents’ screams had petered off about an hour ago. The silver light from the HDB corridor fell through your windows in slits, providing just enough light for you to see the tiny phone screen. With the phone’s small buttons and your clumsy fingers, it took a long time for you to dial the number, but none at all for her to pick up. 

“Cam,” you whispered, “Want to see you.”

“Jesus, Yeoh, it’s a school night.” Her voice was gorgeous like this, low and blurred. She only ever used this voice with you: when her raw-bitten lips were pressed against your chest, your ear, your– You shifted. It didn’t help. 

“Cam, Cam, Camilla.” Her name rolled off your tongue like a litany, sharp and needy. “Can talk a while or not?”

“Are you drunk again?” she teased you. On the other end, her sheets rustled as she sat up.  Although you hadn’t ever been in her house before, you could reconstruct it well enough from the blurry webcam pictures she’d sent you: piles of assessment books, porcelain cross, ceiling fan. And she– beautiful, beautiful, feet kicked up against her headboard, black hair spilling over the flowery sheets, the smile evident in her voice. “Help lah. How–”

“Miss you,” you murmured, by way of an answer.

“I miss you too.” 

“Want to meet you. Want to talk to you.” Then, because you were three cans of beer deep and loved making (aforementioned) bad decisions, you charged on: “You and I, we never talk.”

“I know we haven’t met in a while. It’s not my fault I was sick–” Her voice wavered a little, then bounced back to its chirpy cadence. “But we talk all the time, though. We literally talked in class yesterday. I’m talking to you now.” Cam laughed. Her laugh still sounded to you like the first day of the month– every church across the island breaking into bellsong, light and birdlike in the hot blue air. It was cliché, you knew. You didn’t care. Perhaps you were in too deep to care.

“No,” you insisted, but you didn’t really know what you were saying, or why you were saying it at all. “We don’t.”

“We don’t,” she said, then fell silent.

The funny thing about the two of you was this: Over the past few months, you had seen each other stripped bare, worn to the bone with want, more times than you could count. But the both of you knew, all right, that there were things that you couldn’t– that you didn’t say. Things that were secret even to yourselves. The scars on your forearm, the bruises on hers, the way she looked at you when she thought your mind was elsewhere. Those three words, weightier than any false promise you’d whispered against each other’s skin.

“Staircase. Tomorrow. I need to tell you something.”

–

That night, you dreamt of flying.

You weren’t a bird, weren’t yourself– just bodiless, incorporeal, sweeping through the hallways of the college like a ghost. You phased through the auditorium doors to see the loose ceiling tile, the one that had been hanging over your heads like a guillotine all term, topple to the ground in one fantastic crash, sending students fleeing out the doors and into the foyer. You fled with them, but the ceiling fan in the foyer was spinning just a bit too hard, just a bit too fast, and the students screeched to a halt just in time to catch it falling, an angel with clipped wings. It broke in two over the staircase railing, knocking down the tables and the notice boards, pulling down the ceiling with it. Then the chapel was the next to go, the shattering stained glass catching the light in a thousand colours. As you raced up the corridors, the destruction raced up, up, up, alongside you, past the staff room and canteen to the lecture halls, the classroom blocks, the PAC, every single building in the college folding in on itself like so much wet paper. Block J detached itself cleanly from its precarious perch, tipping head-over-heels into the field. You couldn't hear a thing, but you could imagine what it sounded like: the earth itself breaking, rapture the other way around. 

Then you crossed the lower quadrangle, where two little blobs of baby blue lay pressed against each other’s bodies. Even without descending, you already knew who they were. It was strange to watch yourself like a movie. When you were younger, you'd thought that this was how God saw the world, top-down, like a player peering at a chessboard. When you’d failed an exam for the first time, you'd cowered under a table-cloth to escape His wrath. You’d stopped believing in a lot of things as you grew up, but you could never kick that instinct to flee, that inescapable, intrinsic fear that the presence of God really was everywhere: under a table, in a school, in every splitting cell.

The boy on the ground turned his face towards the girl, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. She smiled infuriatingly, endearingly, back at him.

The school came down on them.

–

Most of the morning was taken up by this awful college event that you’d totally forgotten was happening, all cheering and sweat and thirty-eight degree heat. It was only when the day was coming to a close, then, that Cam and you could sneak away past the computer labs and guitar room into Staircase 6. As you entered, Cam pulled out something from the pocket of her sweater–an admin key–and latched the door behind her with a deliberate click. You blinked. “How’d you get that?” 

Cam didn’t say anything, just tucked the key in the pocket of her oversized school hoodie. There was something strange and tense about her, stranger and tenser than she had been all term. She walked up to Level 4, where the sky through the grilled window cut long slices of light onto the concrete floor, and sat down on the top step. You sat down next to her. 

She breathed, imperceptibly, in and out, looking straight ahead. The question rushed out in a gasp.

“You told me you’d do anything for me, right? I need you to kill.”

iii. the arrow

And when he has heard her give a loud cry,

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

A silver arrow from his bow he suddenly let fly.

And she’ll never go down to the broom anymore.

-

WONG CHIEN PING 

The New Paper, 1998

WONG: To me, family– family always comes first. My kids always come first. You know ah, I’ve got five children. Four boys, one girl. 

INTERVIEWER: Wow.

WONG: [Laughter.] Can be a handful at times, lah, but what can you do? As I was saying, right, when I look at my kids, I’m thinking about everything they could be. Lawyers, doctors, maybe even MPs like me. [Laughter.] And I think about how Singapore’ll change in ten years, fifty years, a hundred years. My youngest, Camilla, she’s going to graduate from university in the 2010’s. In a new century. What’s Singapore going to look like then?

INTERVIEWER: Mhm. 

WONG: I want to make Singapore a place where my kids can grow up safely. Where they can have a future. 

-

For a moment, all you could do was laugh. Then you stopped, of course, but the echo lingered. “Cam?”

Without meeting your eyes, she lifted up her sweater. The first thing you’d thought was that she’d forgotten to bring her house shirt– she was still in uniform. Then you realised that her shirt was unbuttoned at the bottom, and her skirt was unlatched, and there was a solid, unmistakable, swell to her stomach.

The world tilted on its axis. There was no way this was happening. This was a really terrible prank. She’d stolen a prosthetic from Drama. It had to be something, something other than this, something other than a child– You made an inelegant noise, some spluttered form of protest. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” Cam agreed, unhappily.

You instinctively reached out to touch her bump, like you’d seen in the soapy Mediacorp dramas Ma always watched. You didn’t feel anything. Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of parental instinct singing to you; love, love, love all through the water and the flesh and the blood? 

“Didn’t you listen in Bio? You can’t feel the heartbeat yet. Not for a while, but not for long, either,” she said. “Not until I can’t hide it anymore.”

“Oh.” You didn't know what else to say. You pulled her into your arms, and she pressed herself against you, body against body. Like stragglers hiding from the cold, except it was thirty-five degrees outside, the air the same dull dead warmth that school air always was. She turned her face away, but you could still see her eyes go glossy, hear her take those shallow breaths. "I'm so sorry."

You couldn't begin to imagine what she was feeling, how much she'd lost in that instant when she knew she was carrying a life that wasn't hers: the scholarship, the law school, the clear American sky she'd never see. The future rushed out before you, a landscape vast and desolate, and you found yourself unable to picture it except for your mother's face, crumpling in on itself, her world imploded in a single moment. Thinking: all you had to do was study hard. We gave everything for you, pinned every hope on you, and this is what we get? Saying: stupid boy. Stupid, stupid boy.

You don’t know how you say what you say next, but you do. “So. You want to- to kill it?” It, it, it. Still an it. 

Cam laughs wetly. “Almost there. Kill–” the pronoun trips off her tongue–  “me.”

-

ST CECILIA’S JUNIOR COLLEGE

CAMERA 235

12:28:03

YEOH shoots to his feet. WONG does too.

YEOH: You can’t just say that–

WONG: Just shut up for a moment and let me explain, can?

YEOH shuts up.

WONG [with a wince]: Sorry. But you know my father lah. You know how he is. He’ll have my head.

YEOH: What’s the worst he can do ah? Pack you off to some boarding school overseas?

WONG takes a sharp breath.

WONG: It’s not about that. It’s about the fact that he’s worked his whole life for this position. If he ever finds out what we’ve done, his career jialat liao, just like that. Every single day for the rest of my life he’ll look at me and only see a disappointment of a daughter, a stain on the family name. I snuck around and I lied to his face and I bribed my friends for alibis but at least for seventeen years he didn’t know better. He called me his princess, his golden girl, and he meant it. Now all of that’s gone. Or will be gone, I guess. I don’t know how I’d live without that.

YEOH: He doesn’t need to know. You understand that, right? There are ways to get rid of it, I mean, there has to be some way–

WONG: That’s the fucking problem!

WONG turns away, stifling a sob.

WONG: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you–

YEOH [instinctively]: And before you were born I consecrated you. 

WONG: This is our child, Yeoh. This is a human life. 

YEOH: Better any other life than yours.

A long pause. 

WONG [overlapping]: You can’t mean that.

YEOH [overlapping]: I can. I do.

YEOH ascends one step. YEOH stares at WONG as if he’s daring her to say something, until WONG begins to cry. YEOH freezes for a split-second. He reaches for WONG, whispers something inaudible in her ear. WONG reaches up and kisses him in response. After a while, WONG extricates herself with an expression that seems almost like a smile. She walks over to the railing and leans against it. YEOH follows her.

WONG: I’ve always told myself I want to be a good person, but maybe the real truth is that I didn’t want my dad to figure out otherwise. Maybe all of that hiding was for nothing. Maybe it was only a matter of time before he found out who I really was, deep down: rotten. Impure. That woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess. 

WONG: And, sure, I can sneak away to a clinic, God knows we can afford it, I can do whatever it is girls do in movies with the clothes hanger or the back alley. But if my life after this is all an act– what’s the point, if I already know where I’m going when I go? I’m tired of keeping secrets, trying so hard to keep this part of my life from him– when one day I’ll slip again, I know it, and the whole house of cards is going to come crashing down. If I die now, all my sins are going to die with me. He’d be happy, and I’d be loved, and you– 

WONG [almost envious]: You’d never understand.

YEOH tilts his head downwards, fringe falling over his eyes. He starts to say something, then stops.

YEOH: I do understand.

-

Like so many other people you knew, you never meant to go to St Cecilia’s. Everyone said you could make Temasek, maybe Victoria. Tampines at the very least. And you'd believed it, too, until you didn't anymore, until the college you were going to became the least of your worries. 

When did you stop believing you’d ever have a future? It wasn’t a single moment so much as it was a series of them: stepping over the yellow line when waiting for the train, trying to find footholds in the railing of every overhead bridge, your eyes always flicking to every exit you could take. The words you said under your breath in prayers weren’t Our Father who art in heaven but a litany only you knew: I don’t have to do this. I don’t have to keep going. I can leave any time I want. For as long as you remembered, you’d already been halfway gone. 

It was a comforting hypothetical, until it wasn’t, and suddenly you found yourself on the bathroom floor at three in the morning, a week before prelims. The cool white light bounced off the tiles, the mirror-cabinet above the sink hung ajar like it was beckoning you, and you were so, so exhausted. Why were you trying so hard? What were you even studying for? No matter what college you went to, the future would always be blurry and grey. Test after test after test, then onto– what, exactly? You’d never been able to imagine yourself past sixteen. You’d never be able to imagine yourself more than half-alive.

You’d tell the psychiatrist later that you didn’t remember the rest of the night, but that wasn’t true. You remembered the pills. You remembered the blinding, fluorescent pain– and through the pain, your father’s face, your mother’s voice. 911 on the cordless telephone. The ambulance. Changi Hospital. When you’d finally woken, there was a split-second where all you could see was white, and all that came to you was a rush of relief– until the white coalesced into white walls and white sheets and a ceiling spotted with air-conditioning vents, and you could almost laugh at yourself for expecting anything different. If you’d succeeded, anyway, it wouldn’t have been white.

So you failed both at dying and at Chemistry. That was fine. You took the two points off for affiliation.  You took the 5AM bus. You took the desk at the corner of 1T26. That was fine too.  You swore you didn't care about any of it, and you didn’t, you didn’t. Then Cam happened, and suddenly you did.

But you couldn’t shake the memory of that night in the hospital, your parents whispering next to your bed when they thought you were asleep. For once in their life, they weren’t at each other's throats. What’s wrong with him?  your father demanded in Chinese, betrayal running like cracks through his voice. I don’t understand why he would do this to me. In response, your mother only sighed. Stupid boy. Stupid, stupid boy.

-

The story came uneasily to you, like writing an exam for a subject that you hadn’t touched in months. Once you were done, Cam turned to you. If it was anyone else, they would’ve said something benign, something untrue, like, I’m sorry or I’m glad you didn’t die. Instead, because this was the Cam you’d always known, she asked, “How much did it hurt?”

You thought about the answer for a long while. Then you said, “If you do it right, only for a moment.”

She laughed, then, throwing her head back with the force of it. For a brief, blasphemous second, you’d never seen anyone so beautiful: fair as the moon, clear as the sun, terrible as an army all set in battle array. It was the kind of beauty wars were fought over, the kind any man would get on his knees for– to be knighted, to adore. And she’d chosen you (you of all people!) The fact made you dizzy with its weight.

“So.” Her voice brought you back to reality. It was casual as anything, like she was discussing essay outlines or Physics solutions instead of– whatever this was. “I was thinking about the stairs, right? If you pushed me, hard enough, it’d look like an accident…”

Below you, the concrete staircase looped in on itself, down, down, down. Tall, yes, but only three stories, not enough to kill. Not if you wanted to be sure. When you told her as much, she frowned, swearing in Chinese under her breath. The two of you bounced around a few more ideas, but none of them seemed to stick. You fell silent, tapping out meaningless rhythms on the rails, as you considered what you’d been dancing around since she’d asked you to kill. A competition-grade air pistol, a shot at just the right angle– it’d be, well, if not easy, at least simple. Less up to the fates. 

There was only one problem with that plan– it’d no longer be an accident. There’d be police, lawyers, fuck, maybe even journalists. Your juniors would whisper about it for camps and camps to come. You couldn’t feign innocence with a shotgun, couldn’t frame the act of pulling the trigger as anything but what it was.  

So, fine, they’d hate you. They’d shred all your certificates, put your photos face-down, pretend they’d never had a son. So what? Boy hung from his bedroom fan, boy hung from the prison beam. Whatever formula you used, the result was still the same: you’d be gone, and they’d be free. Besides, there wasn’t any way St. Cecilia's reputation could possibly be worse than it already was.

“I think–” you started, suddenly, “I might have a solution.”

iv. the grave

And he has dug a grave both long and deep,

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

He has buried his sister with their babe all at her feet.

And they’ll never go down to the broom anymore.

INTERVIEWER: You didn’t notice the keys were gone meh? I thought you were the captain.

THOMAS: The captain doesn’t carry the keys, sir. Um, he was the armourer, sir, he’s always had them. Since the beginning of the year. 

INTERVIEWER: So you weren’t aware that Yeoh and Wong entered the armoury at 12.39 PM and retrieved a [pages ruffling] .25-calibre Baikal air pistol. 

THOMAS: Of course the alarm went off, lah. To notify the teacher-in-charge. But he told Miss Judith he forgot his water bottle inside, and she was in a hurry anyway–

INTERVIEWER: She believed him?

THOMAS: Miss Judith’s always had a soft spot for him, sir. And we all trusted him. That’s why we made him the armourer. Of course he was quiet, um, but in a calm, reliable sort of way. Out of all of us we thought he’d be the last person to do what he did. [laughter] I trusted him– oh god– 

INTERVIEWER: Calm down, boy.

THOMAS: Sorry, sorry.

INTERVIEWER: Can continue or not?

THOMAS: Okay. Can. Go on.

-

Laughing the loud and triumphant laugh of the already dead, you and Cam crashed back into the staircase landing like you’d done so many times before. How many giggling, short-lived couples had this place borne witness to? The seniors who’d winked and nudged you in its direction must’ve learnt it from their seniors, who’d learnt it from their seniors in turn– back and back it went, a story in two-year cycles, mutating each time it was told. A haunting, a myth, a folk song.

Cam, leaning back against the wall, ran her hands along the sleek pistol. She looked, still, beautiful: even after the run, after the tears, despite the baby. If you hadn’t seen her before, you couldn’t have guessed that she was the kind of girl who would ever cry. “It’s like I’m a spy.”

“I mean, we kind of are, right? People are going to start getting suspicious soon. We should do this quickly.”  You shot a furtive glance through the window in the door. The corridor, as always, was dark– the lightbulb had been busted for a long, long time. 

“Soon. Won’t take long, right? Just–” She aimed the gun at her temple, mimed pulling the trigger with a grin. Miss Judith had trained you well– your first instinct was one of sheer panic, of tripping over your own feet in your haste to rip it from her hands– but you didn’t do any of that. 

Instead you only swallowed, shifted. “Just like that I don’t think is strong enough. It’s not real ah. Can’t do that much damage. Um, can I–”

Downstairs, someone shouted. Cam shoved the gun in her hoodie pocket. You stopped breathing. Something clunky was being dragged across the floor, chatter following in its wake. But no one had opened the door yet, so when the clamour finally died down, Cam removed the gun from her hoodie and passed it to you. 

In your hands, the pistol was cool, familiar, deadly in a way it had never been before. It reminded you that despite any pretences to precision or skill or patience, this sport was, at its roots, a killing sport– drawing blood and blood and blood again. 

You’d only been a shooter for a few months. You'd always been a chess club kid in secondary school, and in St Cecilia, you’d even applied for Strat Games before you walked into the interview, saw an old classmate, and walked right back out.  At least shooting was a singular sport. No emotions involved, no one to fool, no one to ask you what happened.

About a week or two past orientation, you’d hit bullseye for the first time.  You didn’t notice, at first, still reeling from the ricochet, until Greg shouted and the club gathered round and you saw that tiny wound on that tiny target, fifty whole metres away. In another few weeks, it’d become routine, but you never forgot that first time: the breath held, the trigger pulled, the bullet sailing through the air. The gun like an extension of yourself.

She must’ve sensed something had shifted, because she hurried out, “If you don’t want to do this, just say, OK? If you really want, we can– I don’t know, figure something out.”

You’d do anything for me, right? 

Okay, so maybe you were helping her because you knew what it was like to be so tired that you wanted nothing more than to be gone. You knew what it was like to fail– your mother’s eyes avoiding yours, the flat stinking with shame, cut fruits slid under your door like an apology– and you knew, you knew, out of all the people in the world she didn’t deserve it.

But maybe you were helping her because you’d never known anyone who could go to their grave with a smile quite like her, brilliant and foolish and brave. It was your hand brushing hers under the desk and her laughing with her head thrown back and the two of you sharing earphones on the bus. It was the fact that in life or death, you’d never wanted anyone but her. 

So, fine. The moment you’d opened your eyes in a hospital bed, you couldn’t find it in you to care about Heaven or Hell or anything in-between, couldn’t care about a God who’d turned his back to you as you were bleeding out. But even the staunchest of atheists could admit that it was nice to believe that you’d been brought back for a reason; that more than any grade you’d ever gotten or any target you’d ever hit, the greatest achievement of your time in college– okay, your entire short and sorry life– was this: to love her, to kill her, to be loved, impossibly, in return.

You kissed her like it was an answer. Maybe it was. You’d never know.

–

Just like you’d predicted, it wasn’t easy, but it was at least simple:

The muzzle dimpling her button-down shirt. Her heart beneath the gun, frantic and wild. Her smile– smug, inscrutable, like she was getting away with some great and treacherous heist, like she’d stolen something you’d never notice missing until it was too late. Coloured-in Converse perched on the edge of the top step.

A moment to aim. Less to fire.

A crack. A body arching backwards, falling, falling, falling. A body against concrete. A body with its neck all wrong– no, that wasn’t right. Two bodies. One body. But what was the difference, really?

Somewhere, someone was singing.

–

I got tired of waiting

Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around

There was a boy at the edge of the canteen, that isolated corner where the cafe used to be before it went bankrupt and left neon-yellow wreckage in its wake. I could just barely make him out through the other kids who’d swarmed like moths around the speakers we’d looted from the grandstand, a do-it-yourself rave all our own. We were seventeen and free from Promos and knew every word to every song on the radio and there was nothing in this world to worry about, nothing at all.

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town

My voice faltered as I tried to peer over the heads, earning myself a poke in the ribs from Joshua from 28. The boy was tall, in uniform–on the one day we were allowed to wear house shirts? He’d be sweltering hot. He stared off at something I couldn’t see, collapsing on a bench– and the moment I saw the fringe, I knew who you were.

“Xavier!” 

I painfully extracted myself from the knot of students, making my way over to you. You didn’t seem to notice me, didn’t seem to care. There was something red on your face, probably some failed attempt at Go SC! It seemed like the sports leaders had gotten to you. Funny. I’d never thought you were the type. 

You turned to me. 

“Xavier?”

I broke into a run.

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Your hands were shaking, your eyes wet.  There was red on your shirt, red on the corner of your lips. Shit, there was so much of it. “Are you hurt?” My brain was going at thirty miles a second. “What happened? Did you– are you–”

“I’m fine. I just–” You broke off. Slowly and carefully, like you were explaining something to a very small child, you forced out two more words: “--lost something.” 

I cast desperate glances around the canteen. There was something wrong here, something I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, like standing on the edge of a cliff with a sea below you. “It’s OK, bro,” I muttered out, stupidly, awkwardly, “You’ll get it back, whatever it is. Um. You need me check with the GO? Call teacher?”

Through the thin walls, a scream rang out. The singing died a quick, violent death, but the music, still, played on.

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

“No,” you said. “No need.”

It's a love story, baby, just say yes.

-

After everything– after the police, after the trial, after the drop– Wong’s father swept in and gave half of St Cecilia’s a dizzyingly long contract that boiled down to Don’t tell a soul this happened or I’ll kill you myself. Of course I’d signed it. What else could I have done?

In the years to come, I’d want to tell you about so many things: The times we’d instinctively turn in our seats to ask you about homework or classes or anything at all. The two empty desks we’d dodged for the rest of the year, even after we switched classrooms, even after they struck out your names from the class list— as if long before that October afternoon, you were already gone. The shiny, upgraded surveillance system, a threat, an eulogy, as much acknowledgement as they’d ever give you. 

Now, though, I want to tell you about the staircase.

When I stepped back into St Cecilia’s for the first time in ten years, so much of it remained the same. The same old coat of paint, the same wobbly tables, the same starched blue uniform. The only thing that’s changed is the kids– how young they seem now, how they call me Mr Thomas when I’m listening and ‘cher when they think I’m not. In the spaces between classes, when the halls are full of chatter, I’ll overhear snippets of their conversation: I’m yellowslipping for Taylor tickets or Walao, my stats really CMI, like this how can pass or Wah, are you going to take her to Staircase 6? That last one’ll be invariably followed by a wink, a nudge, and loud, boisterous laughter, the kind that only teenage boys can summon up. I can’t blame them much for it. Weren’t we once seventeen too?

The staircase isn’t particularly hard to avoid. For the kids, it’s more of a novelty than anything– a quick selfie at the door during Orientation, then it’s out of their minds for the rest of the year, too far from the classrooms to be of any use. Soon enough, though, exam season rolled around, and I was on my first night study shift of the year. I didn’t have to do much– just make sure nobody escaped the well-lit confines of the library, which was just as crowded and chilly as I’d remembered it. But the campus seemed different after dusk, every flickering light a blinking eye, and I felt myself being led down the concrete corridors, past the office and the hall and the lockers, past the bulb they’d never fixed, and I unlocked the door.

It looked, obviously, like any other staircase in the school. The floor was grey, the walls white. I went up to the top floor and to the railing, the security camera swivelling as I walked. Over the railing, the stairs went down, down, down. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find any part of it that suggested your presence. No pale figure, no blur of light. I felt, suddenly, foolish– what answer was I seeking? Even if you’d lingered, even if you’d somehow escaped where I’d most feared you were, this was the last place you’d want to stay. 

Maybe I would never really understand why you did what you did. But I’d known you, even still, and so I could say this with certainty– if there was any justice in this world, you weren’t here. You were somewhere edgy kids couldn’t gawk and giggle at you, somewhere the camera couldn’t find you. Somewhere only you knew.

An engine growled beyond the gates. Sweet and heavy in the air, the scent of flowers lingered. 

I closed my eyes.

-

And when he has come to his father’s own hall, 

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

There was music and dancing, there were minstrels and all.

And he’ll never go down to the broom anymore.

O the ladies, they asked him, “What makes you in such pain?”

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

“I’ve lost a sheath and knife I will never find again

And I’ll never go down to the broom anymore.”

“All the ships of your father’s a-sailing on the sea

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

Can bring as good a sheath and knife unto thee.”

But they’ll never go down to the broom anymore.

“All the ships of my father’s a-sailing on the sea

The broom blooms bonny, the broom blooms fair

Can never ever bring such a sheath and knife to me

For we’ll never go down to the broom anymore.”

[vinxwatches]

watching transformers prime season 2

Orion Pax, Part 1.

i do like that we get to see more deception from the decepticons. this is the first time they seem smart.

"your mom looks good in leather" that's not a very straight line... or i'm Very gay (ok either the second or both).

i thought there might have been an element of hope to get his friend back in megatron, but it seems he just wants him for cold hard practicality.

damn, they are really making soundwave the scariest one around. we have seen them fight once against someone's nemesis, and it wasn't a fight. it was a quick and easy putting her in her place. and now they are the calmest and most efficient fighter.

starscream here makes a lot of sense. powerful and stealthy enough to get in and steal food. and of course being out of the loop he blows everyone's cover. this'll either result in his death or instalment as him being a rogue element is too dangerous. probably the second as he's hard to kill.

part 2

starscream found a potential powerful ally. i am curious where it'll go. stay a villain? join the goodguys? sometimes useful third party?

oh, new season, new damage and death options. like loosing arms

i love that it makes a lot of sense with that we know that decepticon base is on top of the place important to the primes.

part 3

feels like they didn't exactly do a lot with prime as a decepticon, but a perfectly fine storyline.

Operation: Bumblebee, Part 1.

fuck, so megatron just destroyed bumblebee's voice box which is why he can only communicates in beebs now.

fuck they just stole his kidney. it's also interesting that these super advanced robot people have not figured out created organs. the thing we as humans are now developing. did they just not consider it possible like how long range communication in sci-fi wasn't as big in the past as it is now? or would not giving them that just allow for more plot threads?

i'm still hoping starscream will grow into a reluctant not enemy, but joining the third party to some capacity would work too. oh, it works Really well.

Part 2.

man these robots have so much trauma. i love it. i don't think i could ever pick up on all this as a kid but now? loving this trauma drama.

mmm, maybe not quite as well. he's getting so fucked over. that's definitely why i want him to make a turn to the not evil. he's getting fucked disproportionally to everyone that just killing him at some point doesn't feel like it'd be satisfying. also shows at least nowdays are pretty big on having at least one enemy turn good, generally multiple, maybe also having good guys turn bad, to demonstrate that being good or evil is a choice, and one you can always change. you are not set in your ways. and it's something i like.

Crossfire

HOLYSHIT that is the worst gore we've seen so far. villains v villains can be so much more brutal.

definitely like the way starscream seems to grow into the roll of asshole useful not (active) enemy

Nemesis Prime

damn, mech just became a whole lot more literal. also that was a damn good plan by fowler.

Grill

oh, interview episode. those can be very interesting, or a gimmick to make a short plot last longer.

nope. clip and introduction video of sorts.

why does RC get no points on personality unlike everyone else?

Triangulation

sadly starscream wishes to stand against everyone, appealing to everyone when they have something to offer, but when he believes he has all the power he will spite everyone. would love it if he either learned he will never have enough power or that not everyone needs to be spited.

Triage

will they continue to make soundwave brutal and scary?

Hurt

oh, it's not only the bots that have trauma now. Niko just discovered that justice is just vengeance, and vengeance is just anger, and indulging in it doesn't make things better.

Megatron looks honestly horrified that "a human girl" could kill one of his own.

Out of the Past

girls episode and trauma episode at the same time? what a treat! (not because girls with trauma but because \o/ girls and trauma is so interesting to explore, and seems to really be the theme of the show. well, trauma and the negatives of vengeance)

well, it was mostly backstory, but also a lot of trauma and grief (is there a difference?), really good episode.

New Recruit

yea, i don't trust the newby. he's going to defect in 5 episodes max.

oh, yea he's either really dead or wishes he was. brutal.

Inside Job

that's the first time we've seen optimus have an emotional outburst.

but really, starscream, this is the best plan you have? is megatron really trustworthy enough?

Patch

a clip episode, but one that does continue the story.

Darkest Hour

excuse me. what the fuck. MAN OF STEEL STOLE IT'S PLOT FROM TRANSFORMERS PRIME!? seriously. the badguys are using terraforming technology to transform earth into something better for them which'll kill all, thus the goodguys and forces the hero's to destroy the only method for their race to return.

they really love ending seasons with optimus out of commission.

[holdontwstistakingovermymind]

Hi! Hope you're doing ok, and I wanted you to know that I absolutely love your writing! You said your request are open and I wonder if it would be to much trouble to do a poly!MC x Dorm leaders headcannons? If not, it's ok, mostly just wanted you to know that you are amazing and I am grateful you made this blog!

Thank you my dear for the ask! I'm so excited for the first ask on this blog, no less from an account I regonize!! Also, thank you for the kind words 💙

Some of these characters I'm not completely comfortable writing yet, so please bear with me. But if anyone has any poly! Twst recommendations, send them my way!

There is so much competition it's not even funny.

(^If you're just in a relationship with the dorm leaders, it's some what manageable. However, if you add the vice dorm heads, and everyone else, it's so much worse. I won't get into all that though. We might be here forever.)

Everyone is always trying to one up the other, often times dragging their dorms into their mess to compete via academics, sport, and whatever else the love stricken men can think of.

Leona is especially bad at involving his dorm in his little displays of superiority. Ruggie can't complain though. He finds it fun to watch all the dorm leaders fumble and over-exert themselves in attempts to impress you.

Well, not everyone. Kalim is possibly one of the only dorm heads not to actually compete with the mindset that he has something to prove.

^Sure he likes showing off but he's fairly content to just go with the flow.

Idia's stance is a little similar. He doesn't much care for all the song and dance that comes with these loud displays. Butttttt it would be lying to say he doesn't enjoy beating everyone in areas he has more skill.

On another note, Riddles need for rules and Vil's entitlement cause clashes a lot. The queens usually get along fine otherwise.

Azul has a tendency to try and bargin with everyone, often using you as some sort of pawn. Contract or not, it's just a habit the merman has a hard time shaking.

^Sometimes this starts fights, other times Leona is seriously considering whether he's willing to trade your date night for that grilled cheese.

Entering one another's dorms is just common practice now. There's hardly any announcement.

(^Afterall, if there were any sort of formal address, Leona would definitely cause a scene whe Kalim comes to steal you for a party during your nap sessions and Vil wouldn't get to have his hissy-fits when he sees you and Idia staying up all night)

Everyone remembers to invite Malleus to even the most mundane gatherings simply because you have committed to going on strike when he's not invited to things.

Kalim thinks this relationship means he can throw parties with all the dorm leaders. He is Idia's worst nightmare.

Riddle has nearly had a fight with every single dorm leader for not respecting his schedualing. Azul is probably the only one who hasn't faced the real weight of his wrath, but that's mostly because he himself has a busy schedule.

Vil loves to post about you online in the like "Instagram couple" way. Idia also loves to post about you, but his "look at my human, they just ran into a pole, aren't they cute?" style conflicts with the queen's.

^Thank goodness they do not use the same platforms.

Azul might use their posts to pit one against the other. He's not saying he will for sure, but it's just a backup plan incase someone gets too cocky.

Some of the leaders give you little gifts occasionally. Others have no problem stealing/disposing of these gifts.

(^Leona, Vil, and Malleus specifically have no care for other's tokens of affection. Leona usually goes for food, Vil throws out things he deems unseemly, and Malleus honestly... it's hard to say.)

Idia rarely sleeps over at the Ramshackle Dorm but when he does there's really no sleep. There is lots of trash though lmao.

No personal space whatsoever.

^Riddle might be the only one who doesn't invade your privacy/space on the regular but even he has his moments.

Crowley has had to resort to disciplinary measures often.

Azul sometimes is able to work out deals so no one is punished too hard, but he fully expects your praise.

Also you better love physical affection because at least four of these men are in constant need.

(^Kalim and Leona are both physically affectionate, Riddle and Azul are touch starved.)

Hey, despite their faults, you love them. What you don't love is waking up to Lilia hanging over your damn bed.

[hyunjilicious]

backyard bbq party [bucky barnes]

Summary: You're a college student who hates visiting home. Bucky is new to town and works with your dad. Your mom thinks you need a break from studying and your dad thinks Bucky needs help meeting new people. Smut ensures. 4.5k SMUT

Warnings: Age gap, flirting in inappropriate circumstances, dirty talk, oral - m. receiving, Bucky is cocky and sees right through you, D/s vibes (but not really), very little Daddy kink (one mention), unedited.

A/n: I don't think I have to mention this, but 18+ please!!! Please reblog and lmk if you liked it ❤

-

"Hun-" your mother warmly called as she approached you, a transparent plastic container filled with freshly seasoned raw pieces of meat, in her hands, "Take this to your father, ok?"

With unmistakable disgust on your face, you still faked a smile - all for her sake and took the container from her. It was heavy and you did your best to look anywhere but at it as you crossed the backyard, approaching your dad. He was with his back at you, facing the grill, and a man - which you barely noticed at first, stood by his side.

"Dad?" you sighed, "Mom said you should make these right now"

Their conversation stopped in an instant, and the two men turned to face you.

A smile instantly made its way onto your dad's face, "Didn't think you girls would be done so fast" he commented.

You just shrugged, knowing damn well you did not help prepare the food in any way. However, your eyes landed on the man behind your dad. He was tall, definitely well built, his shirt a size too small and his eyes shamelessly boring into yours.

You fell under his spell in under a second. Or maybe he fell under yours. Something definitely happened. A switch flipped inside your brain, and you knew you'd have to work hard to not allow yourself to do, or at least try to do, anything stupid at your parents party. 

His eyes trailed lower down your body, and judging by the way he fought back a grin, it was clear what he had in mind.

In order to keep things from getting awkward, his lips parted into a dazzling smile, as he extended his hand to you, "You must be, Y/n. I'm James Barnes. You can call me Bucky. Or Buck"

"Oh, yeah!" you dad smiled, "You two haven't met! James is the best damn mechanical engineer I've ever seen"

"You work together?" you squinted your eyes, "I never heard of you before"

"He just moved to the state" you father added, and Bucky nodded in agreement, his hand still slowly shaking yours. 

Feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, you smiled and excused yourself, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. I'll go now, see if mom needs any more help"

Bucky's eyes didn't leave your frame as you walked away, however you barely managed to take a couple of steps before you heard your mother's voice. "Y/n, baby? Can you go grab the glasses?"

"How many?"

"12" she responded in an instant, and then you took off towards the house.

It was dead silent inside. The house was empty, and already a mess. You took off your sandals and walked over to the cabinets above the sink, pulled out a tray and started looking for the fancy glasses your mother saved for special occasions.

You must've grabbed about 3 or 4 when a deep voice startled you, "Need any help?"

You lightly jumped in surprise, but hoped he didn't notice. "No, it's ok, thank you, though"

"Ok" Bucky mumbled, and you heard the smugness in his tone. 

Unable to fight your instincts, you turned around and looked at him over your shoulder. Leaning against the wall with a small bottle of beer in his hand, he sent you a mischievous wink which almost brought a lump to your throat.

You hurried to turn around and keep gathering the glasses your mother asked for, struggling more and more with each one. When you cleared the first shelf, it was obvious you'd need help reaching the ones higher up, but you weren't about to ask Bucky. Instead, you hiked your dress up your thighs and pushed one of your knees on top of the counter, lifting yourself up just enough to reach the remaining glasses. 

"Careful up there," Bucky laughed, walking over to you.

On a normal day, your palms wouldn’t be shaking and you wouldn't even think about the possibility of dropping a glass or falling off the counter. But he was too close, taking way too much satisfaction from seeing you struggling to maintain your balance. Not to mention the skirt, and the way almost all the skin of your thighs was on display for him.

"You could've asked me to help, you know?" he taunted, taking one more step towards you. There were barely a few inches separating your bodies now, and although you were sure it was your mind playing tricks on you, the heat from his body flooded your senses. He was too close. Too smug, looking at you. But the last straw was when he placed his left hand on the counter, inches away from your knee. That was when you noticed the prosthetic arm as the metallic sound of its vibranium plates overlapping grabbed your full attention. After a momentary lapse of composure, you looked into his eyes but all he did was raise his eyebrows. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Uh, it's ok" you shook your head, turning back to look at the cabinet. "Just five more"

For the remaining glasses, you grabbed them from the shelf, handing them to Bucky to place them on the tray.

When you were finally done, with a gentle grab of your hips, Bucky helped you off the counter, his hands lingering against the thin material of your dress for a bit too long. But you didn't mind. His touch burned and under his gaze, you found yourself turning around to face him, the proximity being nothing other than obscene especially if you were to take into consideration the age gap, and how you met him.

But that was 20 minutes ago. A moment not so conveniently interrupted by your mother barging in, wondering what was taking you so long. Bucky helped you carry the glasses to the table outside, and after that, you parted ways. 

Even though he went back to the rest of the men gathered around the grill, your mind remained fixed on him. You found it almost impossible not to look for him every other minute, and the fact that he managed to catch you staring everytime, made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.

And then it took a little bit of devious and manipulative work on your part - to convince your aunt she got the wrong seat. You told her there was a seating plan, and that she was supposed to sit next to your mum. That opened up a seat left of Bucky, and since that seating plan was as unreal as your chances with him, or so you thought, you had to make sure the seat wouldn't be taken by someone else. And you didn't want to make it obvious - didn't want him to know you only chose that spot after figuring out it was right next to his. So you sprinted back into the house, grabbed your purse and placed it on the chair, pushing it as close as you could to the table, so no one could see it. Maybe it's been there for hours, even before any of the guests even showed up. Who'd know?

But of course, once the food had been served and you were all seated, you had to play your cards right. All your confidence seemed to have vanished ever since Bucky took his seat next to you. Casually sipping his beer, having a taste out every single type of food laid out in front of him, cracking jokes every now and then, and the glimpses… And the winks... And the way whenever he had to turn in your direction, his eyes would first land on you, and only then travel to the person he was having a conversation with.

But that was just the start. Soon enough, his attention was more and more directed towards you. His arm on the back of your chair. His jokes solely for you. 

When you figured it was your time to make the next move, after giggling at one of the stupid puns he just made, you cleared your throat and scanned the table. "James, where did you get the olives? Can you hand me the bowl please? I can't see it"

"Oh, yeah" he said, pushing himself up to grab them for you. But conveniently, the bowl was empty. "There aren't any left, doll." he announced after settling back in his seat.

"That's ok" you smiled, ready to stand up, "I'll go see if there are any inside"

The "No" he whispered was way too low for you to hear, but his metal hand grabbing your thigh and pinning you down in your chair got the message across. You turned to look at him confused, but your plan was already going in a completely different and indisputably better direction.

"Here-" Bucky said, using his fork to pick up one of the olives on his plate. "I'm full anyway"

"Thanks" you nervously laughed, raising your hand to grab the utensil, but he stopped you. 

"Open up"

Only for a second did you stop to consider just how bad of an idea that was, but you hurriedly pushed the thought aside and opened your mouth. Your eyes met his as you lowered yourself and grabbed the olive with your teeth, barely managing to hide your enthusiasm as you slipped it off his fork.

"Good?" Bucky asked.

You nodded, "Very. Thank you"

"No problem, doll"

After that, you returned to your plate - some cheese and salad left. None of them looked too appetising right now, you knew what you wanted - two things, but only one of them would be acceptable. So, you lazily gathered some salad leaves into your fork, and turned to Bucky. "Can I have one more?"

"Hm?" he muttered, removing the beer bottle from his lips and looking at you confused.

"One more olive? Can I?"

Instantly, he smiled. "What was that?"

"Can I have one more-" and when his amused smile turned into a devious grin, you realised what he actually wanted from you. "Please?"

He still wasn't satisfied so he just raised his eyebrows, telling you to try again. 

"James? Can I please have one more olive?" 

"Of course" he taunted. 

You didn't know what you expected, of course you'd have to eat this one out of his fork too. However, this time, he didn't bother helping you at all, instead making you lean all the way into him to grab it. 

"Thanks"

"And call me Bucky, ok?"

"Yeah, ok. Bucky"

As much as you wanted to keep this game going, the atmosphere around the table shifted. Even though your parents were seated at the other end of the table and on the same side, making it impossible for them to see what you were up to, you still felt like you crossed one too many lines. 

When your demeanour changed, so did Bucky's. He leaned back in his seat, shifting uncomfortably for a couple of minutes, until he decided to stand up, announcing he was grabbing another drink for himself. You wanted to ask him to bring one for you too, but before you even managed to get a word out, he was already sprinting towards the house.

In his absence, you tried to calm yourself down and regain your composure, but there was only one thing on your mind. Him. So, against your better judgement, you left your seat at the table too, innocently heading towards the house. 

There you found Bucky, leaning almost all the way in into the fridge, scavenging for another beer. The man emptied your dad's stash before the second course was even served. 

"Whatcha looking for?" you beamed, walking up beside him.

"There's no more beer left" he announced, straightening his back and turning to face you. "I guess I'll have some water"

"I can go and see if there's any in the basement" you offered, "Or you could always go for something stronger"

"What do you suggest?"

"What are you into?"

"What am I into?" Bucky laughed.

"Whiskey?" you questioned, walking around him to open the liquor cabinet. "I hate this rum so I don't recommend it." You grabbed another bottle, "This vodka is amazing, no headaches the morning after."

"That won't be a problem" Bucky chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I'll have whatever you wanna give me"

"You seem like a whiskey kinda guy, is that ok?" 

He nodded in approval, and then watched you pad around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and some ice. "What makes me look like a whiskey kind of guy?"

You took a deep breath, weighing your next words. "Rugged, tall.. handsome. Not my age." You shrugged. "Whiskey". Before allowing him to comment on that, you spoke up again. "What kind of drink do I remind you of?"

He pondered for a second, his eyes studying your every move. "One of those overly sweet girly cocktails, that has way more alcohol than my whiskey, but it's masked by all the syrups and preservatives inside it"

"Really?" you laughed out loud, handing him his glass.

Bucky smiled as he took it from you, raising it as if making a toast, and then took a sip. He licked his lips and sent you an approving nod.

Slowly, you both turned around and started walking out of the kitchen, but unlike you - Bucky stopped in the middle of the house, his voice urging you to do the same. "I'll go out front for a cigarette"

"Can I come, too?" you asked, heart beating out of your chest.

"Please" He urged you, stepping aside and allowing you to walk in front of him. 

With a hand on your waist, he followed you out the front door. It was quiet, the sun shining a bit too bright for your liking. 

You skipped down the stairs onto the pavement, but he stopped and sat down. Bucky spread his legs wide and motioned for you to come in front of him. After you did, with a gentle tug on your hand, he got you to kneel, one step below him. 

"Want a cigarette, doll?" he asked, leaning back to retrieve the pack and lighter from his jeans pocket. 

"No, thanks"

"Don't smoke?"

"Not if there isn't at least a mile between me and my parents" you giggled, placing your hands on his knees. 

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow, lighting up his cigarette and taking a puff. You watched the smoke dissipate to the side, only to have your attention grabbed by him when he placed his free hand on your shoulder. "You're an adult. Have been for years. You live on your own. Why not?"

As he spoke, his fingers curled around the strap of your dress, nonchalantly pulling it down. 

You swallowed thickly, but due to the way he was making you feel, you decided to ignore his action. "What they don't know, can't hurt them, right?"

"Mhm" Bucky agreed, taking another puff and then moving to play with the other strap. "So I was right?"

"About what?"

He shook his head, "Nevermind"

"Tell me!" you whined, pushing yourself up against him. His thighs completely framed your body as you closed the distance between the two of you. "Tell me!"

"Nope" he grinned, his proud smile inches away from your hungry lips.

"Bucky, come on" you pleaded, framing his face into your palms, "Tell me, please"

"No, doll-" he dismissed you, turning his head to the side to smoke. After blowing up the smoke, he threw the cigarette into the ashtray, his hands coming up around your body to rest on your ass.

"Pretty please?" you whined.

"Don't push me" he threatened, his grip on your ass tightening to the point where you almost whimpered out loud. Instead, your eyes just opened wide and you bit your lips.

"Ok" you sighed, playfully defeated, "Ok, fine. Don't tell me. But now I'm sad"

"Of course you are, doll" Bucky laughed, grabbing your chin. "I can tell how sad you are. You're not almost bursting into laughter at all"

"Shut up!" you scoffed, slapping his side, but he interrupted your antics with another rough squeeze of your ass.

Unable to keep calm anymore, you dragged your hands up his thighs, stopping inches away from his member. When you looked up to see his reaction, Bucky was already watching you. 

"Can I?" you pouted.

"Stand up"

"Why-"

"Stand up" he commanded again, slapping your ass before you stood up and settled in front of him. "Take your panties off, doll"

"Here!?" you gasped, "What if anyone-"

"No one's gonna see you if you keep quiet and shuffle out of them like a good girl"

With your heart panging in the back of your throat, you slowly reached under your dress and pulled your underwear down. The feeling of cotton slipping down your legs made your shiver, and by the time your panties fell to the ground, Bucky had already stood up.

Wordlessly, you grabbed them from the floor and handed them to him, "Good girl" he nodded and then stepped out of the way, motioning for you to head inside. 

You did so without any further form of complaint, determined to have your way with him by the end of the party. Dessert hadn't been served yet, so you knew there was still time to get to him.

But once you stepped into the house, you barely managed to make it past the hallway before Bucky grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side. He forcefully pushed you into the small bathroom by the guest room, slamming the door behind him and locking it in one smooth movement.

Now it all made sense. Nerves and anxiety washed over you, but the good kind. You were bursting with emotion, shivering from every joint as your juices finally started running down your legs. You licked your lips and waited for instructions from him, ready to do absolutely anything he'd tell you to.

"Why don't you show me what you're made out of, hm? I wanna see how fast you can make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours"

And that was all you needed to hear before you dropped to your knees in front of him, drooling like a good little girl as you watched him undo his pants. Your eagerness got the best of you. He looked divine, especially from that angle. His thick thigh inches away from your face, his metal hand playing with his belt, his hungry eyes staring down at you, his rugged breathing and the perverse view of his cock straining against his clothes. 

Thank god he was fast, because you didn't know how to control yourself anymore. 

When he finally pushed his underwear down and leaned against the wall, you were ready to show him what you were capable of. You wrapped your arms around him, settling your palms on the back of his thighs and sloppily took his cock into your mouth.

"Holy shit-" he cried out loud when you first sucked on his tip, bucking his hips and clenching his thighs.

Eagerly working him from between hollowed cheeks and with your tongue pressed to the underside of his hardening member, you proceeded to look up, innocently blinking at him. The corner of Bucky's mouth tilted upwards, perfectly expressing the immense amount of satisfaction he was getting. 

When the strain on your neck became noticeable, you slipped his cock out of your mouth and wrapped your hand around his base. With delicate and experienced flicks of your tongue against his slit, you worked on shattering his self control, getting more and more wet as his breathing started to accelerate.

"Fuck, Y/n, you little slut-" he gasped, bringing his hand to rest on the top of your head.

You knew what he wanted, but it wasn't his turn to make decisions. Instead, you ignored his gesture and lowered yourself further between his legs, wrapping your lips around his balls. You sucked slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure that you hoped would drive him up the walls.

"Doll, so good. So, so fucking good" he panted, his cock nearly twitching in your hand as you kept pumping along the length.

Pulling back when your neck needed a break, you settled in front of him again, this time mouth open, and placed his tip on your tongue. No physical pleasure from that, but no amount of shadow could hide the pure bliss in his features. Just having you there, on your knees, with his cock on your tongue, was exactly what he needed to see.

"Come on, baby. It's not gonna suck itself" Bucky grunted, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You nodded eagerly, but he stopped you before taking him back into your mouth. "All the way down, ok? Take my cock all the way down your throat, and when you feel like you can't anymore, go a little further"

You nodded again.

"And don't worry, I'm here to help you, doll"

You wanted to mumble a 'Thank you' but didn't get to, since he hurriedly curled his fingers around your roots and forced your head down his cock. 

The feeling of your throat expanding around him reached your core in no time, making you shiver under his hold. You crumbled to the floor, your knees weak from the sheer feeling of it all, blinking wearily as he kept you down. 

A mere few seconds had passed before, out of nowhere, Bucky pushed you off of him and looked to the door, eyes wide with shock.

"What happened?" you mumbled, wiping your chin.

"Thought I heard something"

"You locked the door" you reminded him, "No one's gonna catch us. And that's a bit of a shame, if you ask me"

"Huh?" Bucky frowned.

"I wouldn't mind people seeing me with your balls in my mouth"

His mouth fell open. "You dirty, little whore"

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you licked his tip and looked up, "Don't act like you don't like that about me"

"I absolutely fucking love it" Bucky scoffed, "Don't know what could have possible made you think I don't like it"

"I was just saying"

"Just.. stop talking. Put that mouth to better use for me, ok?"

"Yes, Daddy" you teased and wrapped your lips around his tip again.

"You little-" Bucky started cursing as he shook his head in disbelief, before a rapid knock against the wooden door made your heart stop.

"Buck?" your father's voice echoed around the bathroom, "You in there?"

Without even thinking twice, Bucky forced you back all the way down on his cock, completely blocking your air supply.

"Yeah! I'm in here!" he yelled as you struggled to keep quiet and muffle the way your body desperately begged for air.

"Have you seen Y/n?" 

"Nope" 

The panic that was running through your veins had your oxygen burning faster than normal, the tears in your eyes being the first sign of it. 

"I can't find her anywhere" you dad went on.

No matter how much you tried and how much training you had, in that moment right there, you found it impossible to fight your gag reflex. Before you knew it, a choked down whimper erupted from your throat, forcing Bucky to cough, loudly, hoping to cover you.

"I haven't seen her, man. But, urgh-" The way your throat convulsed around his cock made Bucky weak too, way too close to his release to be able to sound inconspicuous. "Can I- can I have some pr- privacy now? Please? Just - just a sec"

"Are you feeling ok? Do you need-"

"I'm fine!" Bucky yelled. "I'll be out in a sec"

It was not like you were able to hear anything or even concentrate, but as soon as it was clear, Bucky let you off his cock, as he fell back against the wall and you stumbled into the sink.

Gasping for air, you heaved under his stare, eyes wide in shock. "You know I could've kept perfectly quiet without your cock blocking my throat"

"Where's the fun in that?" he panted, getting ready to finish on his own.

"No!" you stopped him, crawling back to him, "Let me!!"

"Just open your mouth" he grunted, and you obeyed.

It took him approximately 30 seconds to reach his orgasm, his hot cum landing perfectly on your awaiting tongue. His moaning and his breathing, and the way his face contorted through endless expressions of pure bliss, had you neatly coming yourself.

When he was done and after you proudly swallowed all that he had to offer, you stood up to fix your lipstick while Bucky cleaned and dressed himself back up.

"Your best friend called. She's having an emergency, you need to get there as soon as possible"

"What-?" you gasped, confused for just a second before you realised there was no way that could have been true.

"Yeah, and I'm not feeling well, so I'll head home. I can drop you off if you want"

And that was what you told your parents. That they couldn't find you earlier because you were talking on the phone with your best friend, reassuring her that everything would be fine and that you'd meet her as soon as possible.

Your parents weren't happy about it, but they didn't shy away from thanking Bucky a million times for offering to drive you. After a sappy round of goodbyes and promises to visit more often from now on, your parents finally returned to the party while Bucky led you to his car.

Once you got in, you didn't even manage to put your seat belt on before Bucky grabbed your chin and forced his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. He dominated the kiss as you melted in his hold, moaning against his lips before he pulled away.

"Been waiting to do that since I first laid eyes on you"

"What stopped you?"

"Had a feeling it wasn't a good idea" he laughed, starting the engine, "Saw what you did to my dick. It was all pink. Don't know how I would've explained lipstick all over my face to your parents"

"Well, excuse me for not wearing blow job proof lipstick to my parents barbecue"

"You're forgiven" Bucky teased, squeezing your thigh as he pulled out of the driveway.

"But why are we leaving though?" you questioned, "You know I have my own room upstairs, right?"

"I know, I know.. but next time we're nearly getting caught, I don't want it to be by anyone who's seen you in diapers"

You burst into laughter, "Oh god, you're right, yeah, that makes a lot of sense! But where are we going?"

"You'll see"

-

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and hmu with concepts!!!

[falcqns]

Omg a read so many imagine from you I would loveeee a imagine where the reader has open relationship with her boyfriend but she does nothing she only accept the open relationship to make him happy.

One day the reader und her boyfriend meet Chris at a grill Party and Chris caught the readers boyfrejnd with someone else he didn’t know they have a open relationship and don’t know if he can tell the reader everything he saw. But when Chris started to explain thr reader that her boyfriend cheat on her she just laugh and says that they have a open relationship but her laugh dont reach her eyes and Chris don’t understand how someone like her can be ok with something like this 👀

♡︎ 𝔦’𝔪 𝔞𝔟𝔰𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔦’𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔤𝔬 ♡︎

☼ 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: chris evans x reader

☼ 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔤𝔰: SMUT! 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (chris doesn't pull out, but reader doesn't care), slight angst, fluff, open relationship.

☼ 𝔞/𝔫: im so sorry this took so long to do. i don't even have an excuse, but i do hope you enjoy!

Chris was drawn to you as soon as you walked through the door.

that thought was quickly dissolved, however, when he saw your boyfriend walk in behind you. his eyes stayed locked on you as you moved about the party, greeting some of the people you knew. he was about to approach you and introduce himself, when Scott pulled him away to talk to some other actors about an upcoming project.

in that short time frame, he completely forgot you had a boyfriend, until he was headed to the bathroom, and found your boyfriend making out with another girl. he felt anger grow in his chest, despite never meeting you before.

he turned on his heel, and headed back out to the party, his urge to pee no longer existent. he located you at the bar a few seconds later, and made a bee line towards you, making sure that no one interrupted him this time.

he approached you slowly. "hi, I don't think we've met, I'm Chris." he said, sticking out a hand to you. you gave him a warm smile and shook his hand.

"I'm y/n. it's nice to meet you Chris," you said, and Chris swore his whole body was on fire from just holding your hand in his briefly.

"you too. I uh- this might sound a little weird, but I'm pretty sure I saw your boyfriend kissing another girl. I just thought I'd let you know-" he said, starting to ramble, but you cut him off with a small chuckle that didn't meet your eyes.

"oh, it's okay. we have an open relationship, but thank you for letting me know." despite the smile on your face, and the happy demeanour you were trying desperately to uphold, Chris could see it was all a façade.

"oh, okay. and you're okay with that?" he asked softly, and you shrugged, looking out the kitchen window to your left.

"n-not really, but it's what he wanted, and all I wanted to do was make him happy. I just-" you said, but shook your head slightly, blinking rapidly to get the newly formed tears to dissipate. "I don't know."

Chris sighed sadly, and took you by the hand. he led you out the back door, and to the gazebo that sat slightly over to the right at the back of the property. "you don't look like you're okay with it." he said, and you swallowed thickly.

"if he's happy, I'm happy." you said simply, and Chris shook his head.

"that's not how a relationship should work, y/n. you deserve so much better. you deserve someone who's going to love and treasure you for who you are. you deserve someone who's going to show you how perfect you are." he said, rubbing your back as your tears finally spilled over, your eyes downcast. "hell, I've barely known you 10 minutes, and I can already see how perfect you are." he said, and you finally looked up at him.

"you deserve so much more." he said, his hand coming to wipe your tears away. the action only made you cry harder, and Chris brought you into a hug.

"I know I deserve better, Chris, but I don't want to be lonely. I'm not from Boston, and he was the first friend I made here. I don't want to lose that." you sobbed, and Chris wrapped his arms around you fully.

he took your drink from your hands, and set it on the table next to him. he helped you stand up, and kept his arms around you as he led you into his house. you looked around at the other people milling around, paying you and Chris no mind as you walked into his bedroom, and then his master bath.

he motioned for you to sit down on the closed toilet seat, and as you did, you watched him dig through one of the cabinets, bringing out micellar water and cotton pads.

you gave him a questioning look, and he chuckled as he popped open the lid. "sometimes I'm too tired to go to hair and makeup at the end of the day, so I take my makeup off at home," he explained as he poured some of the micellar water onto the cotton pad, and began to wipe off the mascara that had run down your cheeks.

he smiled as he wiped the last bit of makeup off your face. "you're beautiful." he said, his thumb caressing your cheek. "does he ever tell you that?"

you shrugged. "barely." Chris breathed out through his nose, and pulled your head closer to his.

"well, you're beautiful. so beautiful." he pressed a kiss to your nose to further prove his point. "if you were with me, I'd show you and tell you how beautiful you are very chance I got." he whispered, and you bit your lip.

he tutted, and pulled your lip out from between your teeth. "you're gonna hurt your pretty lips." he said. and your whole body ignited from the proximity of him in front of you. he bent down slightly, and kissed the side of your mouth. his hands slid from your head to the sides of your neck, his thumbs on your cheeks, the rest of his fingers resting behind your ears.

he pulled away slightly, before taking a breath, and diving back in, connecting your lips fully this time. you moaned into the kiss, and that gave Chris an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. his tongue connected with your own, and he pulled the two of you to stand.

his lips left yours and traveled over your jaw, and down your neck, eliciting sweet moans that were music to his ears. his hands slid down from your face until they found your waist, and he pulled you against him, his lips working on giving you a hickey.

his hands traveled even further, sliding over your ass in a way that had you shivering and melting against him at the same time, and he grasped the back of your thighs, lifting you with ease. your arms wrapped around his neck, and you giggled softly as he carried you into his room. he laid you on his bed, and climbed on top of you.

he placed a quick kiss on your lips, before his hands were sliding up the sundress you were wearing, and finding the cotton panties underneath. he pulled your left leg over his right hip, and ground down on you, as you threw your head back and moaned, his clothed erection rubbing directly on your swollen clit. he moaned as the heat surrounded him, and his hands traveled underneath the fabric once more, and pulled the underwear down your legs.

he moaned as your soaked pussy was exposed to him fully, and he ran his finger through your dripping folds, before bringing it to his mouth to taste your juices. "mmm, delicious," he said, as he stood from the bed briefly to strip himself fully of his clothes. his hand gripped the base of his leaking cock, and stroked himself as he climbed back over you.

he pushed the material of your dress up with his free hand, before placing it next to your head. "s'beautiful like this," he moaned, his tip rubbing through your folds. he tapped your clit with it before resting it at your entrance.

"ready?" he asked, and you nodded, practically writhing in want. one hand held his cock and guided it inside of you, while the other held himself up.

he sunk into your wet heat, and let out an animalistic moan at the feeling, which caused you to gush more around him. "Jesus fuck," he said, adjusting to the squeeze. "s'fucking tight," he moaned as he waited for you to adjust.

"p-please move," you begged him, your hands coming to grip his biceps as his hand joined the other one on the left side of your head. his hips snapped into yours, and your mouth fell open, a moan spilling out.

he grabbed your right leg, and lifted it higher on his hip, enabling himself to go deeper. his head brushed against your g spot inside of you, and suddenly you were crying out, fingers digging into his biceps. he increased his pace, his head hitting that sensitive spot with each thrust, your clit catching on the skin above his cock from the sheer force he was using to thrust.

"bet he never made you feel this good, did he?" he growled, and you shook your head. he had never even made you cum, you always had to sneak off to the bathroom while he slept to finish yourself off, something you knew you wouldn't have to worry about with Chris. he had barely been inside of you 5 minutes, and you could already feel the coil building within you.

"that's a shame, sweets. gonna have you cumming on my cock so hard that you won't even remember your name. gonna fuck you so hard you'll never remember that asshole who could treat you right." he grunted, throwing his head back, and gasping as you clenched around him.

"jesus fuck baby, i'm so fuckin' close." he growled, his teeth clenched.

you opened your mouth to tell him that holy fuck you're so close too, but you can't. your whole body is shaking, and you're feeling things you've never felt before. you whine, and Chris dips his head into your neck.

"cum for me." he whispered into your skin. "i know you're so so close. i can feel you, clenching on my cock. you want it, your pretty pussy's practically begging me. is that what you want? me to give you permission?"

you nodded, your nails surely leaving crescents in his smooth skin. he chuckled darkly, his breathing shaky.

"yeah, want daddy's permission to cum? well you have it sweet girl. let go. cum all over me." and with a shuddering breath, your orgasm takes over, and you almost black out from the pure pleasure coursing through your veins. Chris shouted above you, his warm cum filling you up, and spilling out onto the bedspread. he collapsed on top of you, his head nuzzling into your neck.

"fuck," Chris said, before he was pulling out of you and rolling onto his back, bringing you with him. you looked up at him and giggled. he smiled, and kissed your forehead.

"we're definitely doing that again." he said, and you nodded, unable to contain the smile on your face. "but before we do, you've got to promise me something."

you gazed up at him. "anything."

"you've got to promise me that you'll end things with him, and let me treat you the way you deserve to be." he asked, voice soft.

"i promise." you said without missing a beat.

"good." he beamed, rolling you back over. "now, let me love on you some more. i think it's time i get my mouth on this pretty little pussy."

[mochie85]

Sugar

Chapter 8 of my Mayari series.

Mayari Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki helps Mayari prep for Tony's Birthday Week. A/N: This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist could be found here on Spotify. Word Count: Over 4.3k Warnings: Fluff, domesticated fluff, flirting Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The following week will be the hardest week of your time here at the tower. It will test your stamina, your resourcefulness, your strength, your endurance. It will test your party planning skills, as well as your culinary skills. It’s Tony’s 49th birthday next weekend and he decided he wanted to start celebrating it this weekend.

“He’s been celebrating his 49th birthday for a while now. Every year since…I’m not legally allowed to say when,” said Pepper. “He always makes it a big deal. This year, since you’ve joined, I know for a fact that he loves your cooking, RiRi. I wanted to do something special for him and I was wondering if I could ask you for some recipes.” She continued. Oh, my word.

“Really?! Wow. I would be honored, Pepper. I would be glad to show you any recipe or give you anything you need. That’s exciting! But wait, aren’t you busy planning that fashion show?”

“Yes! On top of his birthday party and the multi-billion-dollar company he left me to run,” she said with a plastic smile on her face. It almost made you laugh. It certainly made you grin.

“Ok. I don’t want to take your thunder, or your gift away from you, but what if I offer to cook dinner? Just for the two of you. For the rest of the week. Like a private chef. Wait, don't you guys have one already?”

“We do, but only for special occasions. I usually cook. Or we do take out. Or go…out.”

“All right. So what do you say? Of course, I would be happy either way if you just want me to help out or show you some recipes.”

“I would love it if you could cook for us. Is that ok? I don’t want to inconvenience you. And of course, if Avenger things happen to come up, that always takes precedence.”

“Nothing would make me happier. Consider it a ‘thanks’ for all that you guys have done for me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for his…tenacity and your generosity, Pepper.”

“You’re being too kind. You can call him pigheaded, or stubborn. I often do.” You laughed. It was then that her phone started ringing. Pepper picked up her things from the counter and continued to talk, “Seriously, thank you! You’re a lifesaver. In more ways than one. If you have any questions, ask FRIDAY.” She said already at the elevator doors. “I’m sorry I have to run. It’s the D.A.” You waved to her as she stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t worry, I got it.”

I don’t got it. What are you going to do!? Planning a weeks-long menu is hard enough, but you decided to make a three-course meal each night! What were you thinking!? On top of that, there’s a barbecue happening tomorrow to kick off Tony’s birthday week and you agreed to marinade the barbecue that they’re going to be grilling tomorrow.

Ok. Get a grip. First things first…make a menu, then take inventory, then make a grocery list. Thanks to FRIDAY, you had a pretty good idea of what Pepper and Tony liked to eat and what they’re allergic to.

NO strawberries.

You sat in front of the kitchen pantry with food items scattered all about you. “FRIDAY, please add baking soda and flour to the shopping list.”

“Sure, anything else?” FRIDAY asked. You scrambled to the fridge and checked its contents.

“Um, yes. Add shrimp, scallops, and tomatoes,” you added.

“What are you doing?”

You would recognize that voice anywhere. The sudden chill you got on your spine wasn’t from the fridge after all.

“Oh, hello your highness,” you said, feeling a little playful. Loki walked further behind you, leaning on the kitchen island, watching you. He crossed his arms, waiting for you to answer him. “I’m taking inventory of what we have, so I can go grocery shopping. I promised Pepper I would cook for her and Tony this week.”

“Amazing. And what, pray tell, did Stark and Lady Pepper do to earn such worthy and cherished treatment.”

“Nothing. I want to do it for them, for Tony’s birthday.”

“Well, I didn’t do anything, why don’t you ever cook for me?”

“Do you want me to cook for you?” You turned around to face him.

“Maybe.” You giggled at his pouty face.

“Ok, help me go shopping and I’ll make you my favorite dessert. Just for you. No one else.” The thought of having something specially made for him, by your own hands, made him giddy. But having to do such menial tasks to get it, made him question whether it was worth it. He looked at you and your pleading eyes. Ah, I would only be lying to myself if I said I wouldn’t do anything for her. Of course, he had to pretend to still be inconvenienced. He made a show of overthinking it and then sighing and rolling his eyes.

“Ok, but it has to involve chocolate. Deal?” he offered his hand to shake.

“Deal!” You shook hands then said, “FRIDAY, please add semi-sweet chocolate to the shopping list.”

“Ok, anything else?” FRIDAY asked.

“No thank you, FRIDAY. Do you want to leave now? I just have to put the foodstuffs back in the pantry,” you said back to Loki.

Loki waved his free hand, and the items went back on the shelf in their proper place. “I wish I could do that,” you said finally letting go of his other hand. “Ok. Let’s go.” You gathered your phone and the keys to an SUV Pepper had lent to you and walked to the elevator.

Loki had flexed his hand several times after you let go of it. He could still feel your warmth and the smoothness of your palm. Sitting in the front passenger seat of the SUV, he said, “I’m pleasantly surprised that you know how to operate one of these vehicles.”

“Yeah. Sam taught me how. I have a license and everything.” You said turning onto FDR Drive. “You didn’t want to learn?”

“I wasn’t allowed many freedoms the first months of my time here.”

“Oh. I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s quite alright. I don’t have much use for it anyway with the Bifrost and the quinjet taking me to places.”

“But what about locally? Do you take the subway?” Loki laughed at your question.

“It’s been some years, but Midgardians have good memories. I doubt they want to be stuck underground with a monster who wanted to subjugate them. No, everything I need, I get from the convenience store on the bottom floor of the tower.” You smiled at the thought of Asgardian royalty browsing the goods of the tower’s CVS. One thing did concern you though. You reached over and grabbed his arm that was resting on the center console.

“You’re not a monster, Loki. No one can think that anymore about you, especially after all the good you’ve done for the world.”

“I appreciate your kind words. But all the same, I am content.” He turned his arm up and slid it back to hold your hand in his. He gave you a gentle squeeze.

You hoped that nothing happened which would require you to use both your hands because you didn’t want to let go.

You drove like that for the next ten minutes, with your hand in his. You begrudgingly had to take your hand back to park the SUV into a parking space.

“We made it. Yay.” You said jokingly.

“Did you not expect to?” He asked worriedly. His eyes widened in shock as he took his seatbelt off slowly. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him. “Seriously, Mayari. Am I putting my life on the line by getting into this vehicle with you?” he mocked.

“You put your life on the line all the time. You’re an Avenger. Besides, we’re both immortal…somewhat. We would be fine.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to court death.” He followed you into a large warehouse. It was packed from floor to ceiling with items and goods. Loki couldn’t help but think of the markets back on Asgard. They would spread all around the local squares. Each village having its specialty, its own unique trade. They were quaint compared to this place. “Why are we here and not the local grocery store down the block from the tower?”

“We’ll go there too, but this place has bulk items. And you guys like to eat a lot. Especially that brother of yours.” You said more to yourself. Loki couldn’t argue with that. He pushed the cart as you loaded it with different types of meat and vegetables. He just watched and followed you as you scrolled through a list on your phone.

“I thought this was for Lady Pepper and Stark.” He asked.

“It’s also for tomorrow’s barbecue that Tony wanted to throw.” You answered.

“He’s not overworking you, is he? You can say ‘NO’, you know.” Loki suddenly felt guilty now asking you to make a dessert for him.

“Not at all. I enjoy this. I love taking care of my friends and family this way. It’s how I show my love, you know…my love language.” You said absent-mindedly as you put a bag of onions into the cart. How you show your love? But clearly, she’s only making me dessert because we made a deal. And even if it wasn’t for the deal, it wouldn’t be romantic love, but platonic love, Loki reasoned.

He followed you around the store minding the things you were saying. Answering questions about which type of wine he would prefer, or the type of fruits he liked here on Midgard. He noticed the other patrons in the store as well. Many families, but also couples who were grocery shopping for themselves. He wondered if that’s what you two looked like to any outsider. The thought of one day maybe sharing a life with you, intrigued him. It planted a thought inside his mind, and it took root.

Loki watched as you tried to get a jar of honey from the top shelf. You had grunted on the tips of your toes, not wanting to ask for help.

“All you have to do is ask, darling,” Loki said as he came up behind you to grab the jar. “How many would you like?” he said looking down at you. He had his other hand on your shoulder, as he reached up for a jar. You turned around and looked up at him. His blue eyes were bright like the sky above. His scent of leather and honey muddled your thoughts momentarily.

“Wha…”

“I asked, how many would you like.”

“OH! Um…just one, please.” Loki grabbed the honey and placed it in the cart. Your heart raced and you hoped that he wouldn’t be able to hear it. “I think that’s everything that I need from this store.” You uttered, trying to get your composure again.

You headed to three other stores after that one. A specialty grocery store where you got rare spices and certain cheeses. A décor store where you got special table runners and napkins. Finally, a florist where you ordered five bouquets, one for every day of the week you would be cooking. Loki was helpful and thoughtful through it all. You would ask for his opinions on certain items, and he would genuinely answer you.

In all truthfulness, Loki had enjoyed spending this time with you. He didn’t think the domesticity of it all appealed to him. Doing them with you, however…seeing your eyes light up at finding exactly what you needed, trying new foods, and experiencing the novelty with you, he could see himself doing this with you in the future.

As he helped you put the last of the items away in the pantry, you turned to him to say your thanks. He stopped you for a moment.

“I want to give you something.” He curled his hand up, and the space around his hand warped until a solid form took shape. He produced a beautiful bouquet of white jasmines and handed it to you. Your eyes widened with the use of his magic.

“For me?” You said sniffing at the beautiful flowers.

“I noticed you looking at them at the florists.” He handed them to you as he tucked a small red rosebud just behind the crook of your left ear.

“This one, however, is my favorite.”

“Thank you, Loki. They’re beautiful.” You signed. You didn’t trust your voice not to crack if you had spoken. You motioned for him to come closer as if you were going to whisper something in his ear. When he bent down you tip-toed up to kiss his cheek. “This was very sweet.” Your cheeks started to hurt; you couldn’t stop smiling. Loki couldn’t stop smiling himself.

It was getting close to midnight, but you had finally finished. After completing the marinade for tomorrow’s barbecue and putting it in the fridge, you had started on the special dessert for Loki. Shopping with him and being in his presence all day made you think of one special dessert that involves honey and chocolate. Now, it was all iced and decorated. You had cut off a slice and placed it on a tray with a cup of his favorite tea.

You looked across the living area out to the balcony, and it was empty. You went to his room and knocked on the door and no one answered. Even though it was late, you knew that he would be up. He would’ve answered his door if he was there. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him at all since he gave me the flowers. One last place you decided to try was the library.

He sat in one of the wingbacks in front of the fireplace. He had a hefty book on one hand and his other hand was running his fingers through his lips. You hovered by the doorway taking in the sight of him. The warm light from the fire made his profile sharp. The sight of his long, deft fingers caressing his lips made you clench your thighs. You didn’t know which you wanted more, his lips, or his fingers.

Loki looked up at the scent of chocolate, tea, and…jasmine. Part of the reason why he bought those particular flowers, its scent reminded him of you. You walked in with your eyes wide and lit up at the sight of him. You were the only one who reacted that way towards him.

It reminded him of earlier in the day when you had found something you were looking for. Your face lit up with the most beautiful smile and your eyes glinted. Most of the time, people’s eyes widened in fear or shock when they see him. Yet, with you, it was like you had found something precious. He would appreciate that more than you would ever know. You strode in and placed a tray on the coffee table in front of him.

“As promised, I made you a special dessert. Just for you. It’s a type of Spartak cake. Traditionally, I think it would just be made with either honey or chocolate. So I just combined it for you. A chocolate cake with honeyed cream.” Loki was beside himself. True, he had known that you would make it for him, but he wasn’t expecting it so soon. It had eight amazingly thin layers, alternating between cake and cream filling. It was beautiful and impressive. Loki did not waste time in trying his treat. You sat on the opposite chair watching him. His euphoric expression made you smile. This was why you loved cooking. To make the people you loved happy. As the many layers of cake and cream, melted in his mouth, he let out an appreciative moan. Your grin got wider.

“Do you really like it?” you asked him.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled taking another bite. He finished his slice quickly. “That was heavenly, darling. Thank you.”

“I’m so glad you liked it. There’s a whole cake left for you in the kitchen.”

“There’s more?” he asked joyfully. You nodded your head and Loki quickly abandoned his book on his chair and grabbed your hand in the other. You giggled following him as he dragged you back to the kitchen. “Have you tried it yourself?” He asked. You shook your head. “I doubt I have tasted anything better.” He looked at your lips and licked his own. You blushed and heated at his compliment.

In the kitchen, he placed his hands on your waist and lifted you to sit on top of the kitchen island. It all happened quickly, and you weren’t expecting him to do that. Your blush got redder.

He turned back towards the cake and cut himself an even bigger slice. You laughed at him, shaking your head. He poured a new cup of tea for each of you. He took a fork and tucked it into the slice, and held it out for you to try.

You opened your lips and looked him in his eyes as he placed the cake in your mouth. You closed your lips around the fork, and he removed it slowly, not taking his eyes off your lips. “Delicious?” He whispered. You nodded your head slowly, watching his lips part. He was moving in closer to you, slowly, never taking his eyes off your lips. You swallowed, then licked your lips not wanting them to get dry. He put the slice down and had put his arms on either side of you, trapping you on the counter. You felt your heart thud inside you, and you hoped that he couldn’t hear it.

He kept staring at your lips as if it was the next thing he wanted to try. You parted your legs as he stepped in between them, encircling his arms around you. Your hands found themselves resting on his arms, feeling his lean muscle. You were surrounded by his scent again, the intoxicating mix of leather and honey.

“Thank you,” he whispered to you as your noses touched. He could hear the crinkle in your smile.

“You’re very welcome.” You said with a raspy voice. His nose traced your cheek, down to your neck, smelling the enticing aroma of the cake and your jasmine scent. It sent shivers up your spine and goosebumps appeared on your neck. You closed your eyes, relishing his embrace.

“No one has ever made something for me before. I hope you know how much this means to me.” It was a bittersweet thought. You’re glad that it made him so happy, but the fact that no one has ever made something for him. It nearly broke your heart. You placed your hands gently around his neck, cradling his head, brushing your thumbs on his cheeks. You leaned in, your foreheads kissing. Trying to erase all his bad memories. Only if your powers worked that way.

You both heard the bell of the elevator announcing its arrival. You heard footsteps before you heard their voices. Loki looked at your eyes, then one last time at your lips before he moved away. He stayed close. His arm brushed up against the side of your arm whilst you sat on the counter staring up at him.

Thor, Bucky, and Nat were walking through the foyer and saw the two of you in the kitchen.

“Ooh, cake!” Thor exclaimed.

“Nope! Mine brother.” Loki said as he swiped the cake stand further away from Thor’s grasp. “Lady Mayari has baked this cake, especially for me, and I don’t feel like sharing.”

“It’s delicious though,” Bucky said, tasting the slice that was left on the counter. “Good job, doll.” He continued as he fed Nat a piece. Loki’s eyes went wide with indignation.

“Spartak! My favorite.” Nat said. Bucky slid the plate over to Thor, who caught it with one hand. He ate the remaining piece.

“Exquisite. Lady Mayari. Mmm, you must make this again.”

“I would be glad to,” you said with a smile as you jumped down from the counter.

“Well, I’m going to take the rest of my cake with me, you vultures!” Loki said as he made his way back to the library.

“Have you been cooking this whole time?” Bucky asked, and you nodded your head. “Go get some sleep. It’s past midnight.” Bucky said messing up your hair and kissing you on your head as he passed.

Thor watched and lingered. “I’m going to try and steal some more of his cake.” He said as he made his way to the library to follow Loki.

Nat just looked at you. She gave you a knowing smile as she leaned on the kitchen island. You raised your eyebrow at her waiting for her to say what was on her mind. You started putting your ingredients away and wiping the counter.

“Ok, what is it, Nat? I can feel your stare. It’s unnerving coming from the world’s deadliest assassin.”

“You baked him a cake.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Yes. As a thank you for helping me buy the groceries earlier.” You answered back.

“You two went grocery shopping together?”

“Yes, and…?” waiting for Nat to make her point.

“Bucky kissed you.”

“On the forehead. That’s nothing. He does that all the time.”

“‘All the time,’ she says. Wow.” Nat gave you a surprised look. “He’s jealous. You have both those men eating out of your hands.”

“Ha! Not likely. Bucky’s a good friend. He’s like the brother that I wish I had. He knows that. Loki…Loki…I don’t know what Loki is…” you confessed.

“Do you want him to be something?”

“I would be lying if I said ‘No.’ But I can’t trust myself.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asked concerned.

“How do I know that I didn’t compel him to feel this way about me. Even if I didn’t compel him, why would he like me anyway? He’s just flirty and playful that’s all.”

“Girl! He is not flirty and playful with me. He likes you.” You blushed at her words. You were reminded of the moment you had just now before the others walked in. It’s true, you couldn’t picture Loki being that close to anyone else in the tower. Could he like me?

“I’m pretty sure, he’s like that with Tony,” you joked. Nat laughed. “Either way, I don’t think I could ever make the first move,” you signed instead of speaking. “I want it to come from him, not because I influenced him in any way,” you continued to sign.

“You’re going to have a lonely life waiting for other people to come to you.” She paused, then said, “You were given an amazing gift. It couldn’t have been given to a better heart. You should trust yourself more often.”

You sighed, you wanted to believe her. Anything and anyone will tell you that you’re special. You are wonderful. But sometimes, most times in your case, you just don’t believe it. In a world with over 18 billion people, and now other gods and goddesses and enhanced human beings, and aliens from other galaxies, you don't feel worthy of the power that was bestowed upon you.

“For an Avenger, I sure am spineless,” you said.

“No. You’re being overly cautious and making decisions based on your life history and traumatic events.” Nat spat out like she was reading an excerpt from a medical book.

She spun around to go to Tony’s private, and locked, liquor cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of 1981 Cab and poured out two glasses. “You need to stop thinking that you are unworthy of friendship or love.” She hit it dead on. “So many of us here have wasted years thinking that. It was a lot of wasted moments that we could’ve had with the people we loved. I don’t want that for you too. You deserve to be loved and much more.” She handed you a glass.

“Cheers.” You said as you clinked glasses. You both took a sip, the smoothness, and richness of the wine warmed you straight to your chest.

“Well, what’s the end goal? What do you want from him? Did you want to just sleep with him? Or do you want an actual relationship? Because if you just wanted to sleep with him, you didn’t need to bake him a cake. You’re putting in way too much effort,” Nat chuckled. “If you want a relationship, and want him to make the first move, you have to show that you’re interested in him too. Flirt with him back. Watch what kind of reaction he makes.”

“I thought I was flirting back.” You thought back to all the moments you had together. Could they have been interpreted differently?

“No. Before, you’ve been acting in a way you could justify your actions as not flirting. ‘Oh, I just baked him a cake because he helped me out,’ or ‘Well, I needed help getting the bag of sugar from the top shelf, and he just happened to be the tallest person around.’”

“It was a jar of honey,” you interrupted. Nat just stared at you and started laughing.

“Oh, you got it bad,” she said through her wine glass. “What I’m saying is be upfront with it now. Make it known that you’re flirting. Don’t give him any other excuse to explain your actions, and he will have no conclusion but to think that you like him. Then he’ll make the first move.” You moved to say something. “And don’t say ‘what if he doesn’t like me?’ Don’t! Because he does! I can tell.”

“How did you know what I was going to say?” you asked surprised.

“Because I can tell.” She said, sipping her wine. You giggled as you drank yours.

“Thanks, Nat.”

⬅️ Chapter 7: Man With The Horn | Chapter 9: Swim➡️

Mayari Taglist: @User13cabs

[whats-her-quirk]

Sunny Skies and Pretty Thighs

tenya iida x reader

NSFW, smut

wc: 2.2k

cw: smut, aged up 18+, penetrative sex, thigh riding, finger sucking

a/n: I’m about to pass out but I did it.

summary: A pool party at Yaoyorozu’s means swimming, sun, and a game of chicken with your thighs wrapped around Tenya’s neck. Though the two of you are “just friends,” today, you might just take the plunge.

Just like everything else at Yaoyorozu’s family home, the pool in the back garden was huge, as some of your former classmates couldn’t help but note as Momo unlatched the gate to the pool area. She blushed as she lifted the iron latch and welcomed you all in. “We just had it built. I had no idea it would be so large from the construction designs.”

To christen the opening of the new pool, Momo had invited your old high school class over for a party, since most of you were home for the summer. You set down your bag on a padded lounge chair and lowered your sunglasses to look around. The giant in ground pool was lagoon-shaped and paved with brown stone, large boulders placed around the sides for a natural landscaping look. 

There were comfortable chairs arranged all around the perimeter, and a huge spread of food was laid out on a table near an outdoor grill built into the stone. Tucked in different corners were a fire pit and a hot tub, artfully arranged to give the entire space a beach resort vibe. You felt like you were on vacation, even though you were only a few miles from home.

A few of the boys had already peeled off their shirts and cannonballed into the pool, and Mina and Hagakure threw aside their swimsuit coverups to follow them. You always found the most awkward part of going swimming to be the process of getting undressed, peeling off the outer layer keeping you modest on the street and revealing the, well, more revealing garments underneath. You waited until it seemed like no one was watching to unbutton your jean shorts and step out of them. 

You pulled your gauzy white top over your head, but when you looked up again, you caught the eye of one Tenya Iida, who immediately looked away, blushing. You bit your lip and decided not to think about it, the fact that he might have been watching you, as you crammed your clothes in your bag, stepped out of your flip flops, and approached the side of the pool.

You dipped a toe in the water, perfectly heated without being too warm, but you jumped back when a rogue splash from Kirishima slapped at your ankles. When you felt your back smack against something, you instinctively reached behind you to keep your balance. From the impact, you thought somehow you’d be reaching for a brick wall, but no, what you touched was skin and abs and a hand that was reaching back for you.

“Sorry,” Tenya said, putting his hands on your shoulders to help you balance again.

“It’s ok.” You collected yourself before looking up at him, studying his face sans glasses, eyes traveling down the pretty slope of his nose before shooting back up. “So, no swim cap today?” you teased.

He shook his head and grinned. “I don’t really need it today, when I’m not aiming for speed.”

This was how it was between you and Tenya, how you’d always been. Friendly, a little too much so, bordering on flirting but never crossing the line. You’d admired him for years, wondered what it would be like to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t have the balls to do anything about it. So you kept your mouth shut and let your crush consume you from the inside out every time you saw him.

Tenya nodded to the pool. “Getting in, y/n?”

You loved the way he said your name, though. So you reached for his hand and, before he could stop you, you jumped in, pulling him in with you. If he had really wanted to, he could have held you back. He was strong enough. But instead, he splashed into the water along with you.

The pool felt amazing under the midday sun, cooling you down while there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The day passed in a golden haze as you paddled around, lounged in the chairs while others batted a volleyball back and forth, ate snacks, and practiced underwater handstands with the girls. But a few hours in, just as you climbed out of the water to reapply sunscreen again, the real fun started with a scream.

Well, a scream and a splash as Jirou pushed Uraraka off of Deku’s shoulders and into the shoulder-high water. You weren’t sure who started it, probably Denki, but everyone had gathered around for an old-fashioned game of pool chicken. It was a game you loved and hated. It was competitive and fun without being as frustrating as other pool games (who had the patience for Marco Polo?), but there was also so much about chicken that was inherently... intimate. Proximity of hands and heads and thighs would always be a little bit sensual, at least in your head. But you couldn’t resist a game, and you had a partner in mind.

As you jumped back in the pool, Denki spun around with Jirou on his shoulders, her arms outstretched wide, feeding off his confidence, calling for more challengers. You swam up to Tenya and grabbed him by the bicep. “Be my partner, Tenya?”

“Uh, well...”

“Come on, we’ll kick everyone’s butt.” That put just the slightest smirk on his face. He looked down at your fingers wrapped around his arm before turning and ducking down under the water so you could settle onto his shoulders. When he rose back up, your entire body was out of the water, putting you above everyone else because of his tall frame. Water dropped off of his hair and only your legs as his fingers curled around your thighs, holding you tightly against his neck.

You defeated Jirou easily, dethroning her from Denki’s shoulders as Tenya gripped the flesh just under your hips. Beating Mina and Kirishima was a little tougher, but Tenya’s height was again a big advantage as you dug your heels into his chest and managed to push Mina into the water.

The toughest matchup was Sero and Hagakure. Though she squealed and apparently kneed Sero in the chin several times, Hagakure proved hard to hold onto, and once her hand was out of yours, you couldn’t see where it was to regain your grip. Sero, the next tallest after Tenya, was a stronger foundation with a better angle. Still, Tenya refuses to let go of you, the lads of his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs. You couldn’t help but squeeze his head between your legs, and you could feel the imprint of his ears on your inner thighs, but neither of you were willing to give up. You almost didn’t want it to end, the pressure building in your core as all that separated you and tenya was the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms, but finally, you managed to overpower Hagakure and claim victory.

The game disbanded after that, everyone deciding the two of you couldn’t be beaten, and with a little disappointment on your part, you unwrapped your thighs from Tenya’s neck and dropped back into the pool, missing the feeling of his skin on your almost immediately.

The sun went down, you all ate a delicious dinner, and the evening began to wind down. Out of town folks left to take the train back, and the rest of you settled around the fire pit or in the hot tub. You found yourself next to Tenya in the hot water, scrunched close to him as everyone else piled in, but one by one, or two by two for some of them, they climbed out of the tub until you were the only two left. But neither of you moved away.

“I had a good time today,” Tenya sighed after a while. “Did you?”

“Yeah, it’s been fun.”

You almost jumped out of your skin when his hand slid into your thigh under the water. You didn’t know where this was coming from, but the butterflies in your stomach told you not to question it. Tenya spoke again. “Y/n, I know we’ve always been close, and I think, especially after today, we both know-“

You did know, which is why you never let him finish that thought. You body twisted as you spread your knees to straddle Tenya’s lap, the bubbles around your waist hiding little, especially the tent in his shorts. With your hands on the back of his neck, you pulled him into a heated kiss, pushing his glasses high up on his forehead.

Tenya gripped you tightly, sighing into your lips like he was releasing something he’d been holding in a long time. His hands squeeze your upper arms before trailing down to your hips, pulling your chest against his own, your wet bodies pressed together as you started to grind down on him, almost without thinking.

Tenya lifted your hips as you continue to kiss, your tongue deep in is throat, until you straddled one of his thigh quad muscles. “Oh god,” you couldn’t help but moan quietly as he pushed you up and down his leg as if he knew exactly what you were desperate for. You rode his thigh, corded muscle putting friction to your clit that made you shiver despite the hot water. When the heat and stimulation were almost too much, you broke away and leaned your forehead on Tenya’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. Too much?” He asked, panting.

You shook your head and started pulling him out of the hot tub and toward a nearby cabana with curtains that could be drawn for shade or privacy. “No, not enough.”

You flopped onto your back on the padded futon as Tenya untied the curtains, letting the billowy curtains fall closed around you. You were more comfortable with the privacy and figured he would be too, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You’d hidden your feelings for years. You needed him now.

Tenya lowered himself over you, sculpted abs shifting against your stomach as he held himself up by his elbows. He tosses his glasses to the side and connected your lips once again, a soft whine escaping his lips as he did. He wanted this badly, you realized. As you carded your fingers through his hair, Tenya’s hands slid under the fabric of your swimsuit bottoms, hesitantly stroking your folds until you spread your legs wider, a signal that you craved him inside you.

One finger slid inside you, then a second as you clenched down, back arching off the mattress. You bit yourself to keep from moaning too loud, worried someone would hear. Tenya chose to bite down on your shoulder to keep his groans quiet as you seemed to pull his fingers in deeper, desperate to have him inside you, hitting all your sweet spots.

When your legs started to shake and a helpless whimper escaped your lips, Tenya removed his fingers and brought them to your lips. You greedily opened your mouth to suck on them, tasting your own arousal on his skin, salty from the sun and water as well. With his free hand, Tenya pushed the waistband of his shorts down and moved your swimsuit to the side, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Is this ok?” He asked, ever the gentleman even in the lewdest of circumstances. You nodded yes around his fingers, and he pushed his throbbing tip into your hole.

The stretch was fantastic, but still, he took things slow. You could feel how big he was even if you couldn’t see very well, but he gave you a few i aches at a time to adjust to before fully seating himself inside you. As you twisted your tongue around his fingers to muffle your moans, you wrapped your legs around his waist, causing him to throw back his head and gasp.

“God, yes,” he whispered as he started to rock back and forth, his hips pressing into you as he fucked you the way you’d only dreamed about. Your hands wrapped around the wrist that was pressing his fingers in your mouth as he thrusted into you, steadily at first but then rapidly accelerating until you could feel the slats of the firing through the thin mattress he was pounding you into.

His beautifully square jaw was set tight and his teeth gritted as Tenya worked himself and you toward your climax, pushing you fully to the edge before you started to shake. It was only when you looked him dead in the eyes and a tear rolled down you cheeks that the both of you came apart at once, you with a squeal and him with a growl. He spilled inside of you, coating your inner walls with white, and finally, you pushed his fingers out with your tongue to gasp for air.

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, Tenya didn’t say anything for a moment. You started to worry that he already regretted this, finally crossing the line from friends to something a lot more serious. That was, until he nuzzled his face against your neck and his hand found your inner thigh. Through heavy breaths, he whispered, “Did I ever tell you that you have the prettiest thighs I’ve ever seen?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re one to talk.”

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 5 - Accidental Confession / In Vino Veritas (Drunk Confession/Drunk Dial)

Unrequited love? Bite me

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x GN!Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Drinking/alcohol, language, vampirism/blood mentions, FWB mention

AN: Day 5 of @tropetember. Not my best work but hope you enjoy. Might rework this slightly at a later point.

A visit to the Salvatores in Mystic Falls should be pretty fun, until Damon decides to drag you to a party the Originals are throwing.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Damon, you cannot be serious.”

Your best friend just gives you puppy dog eyes. Bright blue and sad as can be. It’s kinda pathetic.

“Pretty please.”

You huff, knowing you won’t win this argument. You’ve known him since you were both children, through him being turned by Katherine and later Stefan turning you (long story), and then on and off in the intervening century and a half. You even had a casual friends with benefits arrangement when you were both lonely/bored. Knowing him so well, you decide to save everyone the time and give in.

“You’re paying for my outfit Damon! I can not believe you’re making me go…”

He scoops you up and spins you, making you squeal as he thanks you. Stefan, who has been observing from the couch being absolutely no help, just laughs.

“You won’t regret it. It’ll be fun and we can learn some things at the same time. We’ll be the most attractive spy duo in history.”

You just roll your eyes and go to grab your keys before stealing Damon’s wallet. If you’re going to have to face the Mikaelsons again, you weren’t doing it in something you’d worn before. And you were going to buy something expensive out of spite.

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

The entrance to the Mikaelson’s house was the same as any other house in Mystic Falls: opulent, excessive and with far too much marble. You’d take a cosy cabin over this nonsense any day.

Clinging to Damon's arm, you enter the space and, thankfully, Klaus is the only one of the family greeting guests.

“Darling, it’s been a while.” You can’t help the reactionary smile as you embrace him. He could be bat shit crazy at times, but he’d always been kind to you.

“Klaus! I’ve missed you.” Out of your eye corner, you can see Damon giving you both evil eyes. Had you accidentally on purpose forgotten to mention you knew the original family? Oops, your bad.

Klaus doesn’t let you go far, holding you at arms length to admire your new outfit. You do look stunning in it, if you do say yourself.

“Beautiful.” He leans in to whisper in your ear “My brother really doesn’t realise what he’s missing.”

You laugh him off, ignoring the implication. You knew better.

“Now boys,” you say, glancing between them, “I’ll have no part in whatever this little competition or measuring contest is, and I expect you all to leave me out of it.” They both look a little guilty as they nod. “Marvellous. If you need me, I’ll be somewhere out of the way with a glass of champagne.”

And with that you head further into the party, leaving them to bicker.

-----

"Urgh, I've missed you so much! I can't believe you left us."

You and Rebekah are both waaaay too many glasses of champagne deep at this point. You’d been there a couple of hours by now and it had only taken Rebekah 30mins to realise you were there and take you hostage. You're currently sequestered on a sofa in a corner and are both a bit sloppy.

"What do you want me to say Bekah? It's your arsehole brother's fault."

"Wait, what? What did Klaus do?"

You laugh, just a tad hysterically and fortify yourself with another sip out of your glass.

"Wrong one. Go older"

A look of understanding comes across her face and she wraps an arm around you. You, sadly, don't have enough of your wits about you to realise that this isn't the best place for a drunken heart to heart.

Everything starts to spill out of you. How you and Elijah had spent so much time together. How you thought he liked you back, only for him to turn up with what's her name wrapped around him. How he'd laughed when you'd expressed your surprise that he was dating, and how it made you feel like nothing. It was too much for your heart to handle. So you’d left, had a fun rebound weekend with Damon and tried to move on.

Rebekah pulls back slightly, wiping a tear that had escaped without your permission.

"You're too good for him anyway," she says and you laugh.

"I wish that were true.” You pull yourself together a little and put on your best fake smile. “For now, I'm just going to don an air of indifference and pretend I'm not in love with your oldest brother."

Your mirth leaves you instantly as you hear a refined voice behind you ask, "now why on Earth would you do that?"

It’s amazing how panic can sober you up.

You turn slowly and meet the eyes of the oldest Original. He’s in a suit, as always, and has a confident smirk plastered across his face. That pisses you off.

“Cos he’s an asshole” you coolly reply before turning to Rebekah, pressing a kiss to her cheek and walking swiftly out of the room to find Damon to take you home. You’d embarrassed yourself quite enough for one night.

You’d never admit that you were disappointed that Elijah didn’t try to stop you.

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

One of the advantages to being a vampire was that you very rarely got a hangover. Instead, you just slept in a little, made a cup of coffee and did some yoga before heading out to treat yourself to lunch. You didn’t need to eat but you enjoyed the taste, there was much more variety in food than blood.

You'd only arrived in Mystic Falls a couple of days ago for your visit to see the Salvatore brothers and as such hadn't had a chance to try out the Mystic Grill. This seemed like a perfect fit opportunity. Something greasy would be perfect right about now.

The grill was a bit dingy but it worked for the place and you were happy to learn that they have a pretty good menu selection. Your excitement was soured though when Elijah decided to join you for lunch.

Dressed in yet another suit, no tie and the top buttons of his shirt undone, he oozes charm and money. Add in the handsome features and knockout smile and you were lost. You're sure back in the day the ladies with delicate constitutions had to keep their smelling salts close. You could easily have fainted over him.

But he wasn't interested in you, as he had made very clear, so you were just annoyed that he was existing in your space.

Elijah watched you eat for a few moments, clearly taking note of your reluctance to acknowledge him.

"For someone who's in love with me, you don't seem particularly happy to see me darling."

You groan quietly and lower your utensils. Wishing him away wasn't working.

"What do you want Elijah?" You sound bitter, even to your own ears. So much for attempting to sound neutral.

"One of my favourite people, who I haven't seen for a long time, has reappeared and I want to spend time with them. Is that too much to ask?"

You start eating again, using it to buy time. You had honestly missed his company. You just weren’t sure if you could bear him breaking your heart again, even accidentally and unintentionally. Luckily, he had more to say.

“Klaus told me off after you left, you know?”

You look at him in surprise.

“Told me that I’d wasted my best opportunity at happiness. Which is especially concerning considering who it was coming from.”

You nod your agreement. Klaus wasn’t exactly known for his sentimentality.

He continues, “would you believe that I really thought you were too good for me? That I really thought you weren’t interested?”

“Elijah, you can not be serious.” You pull a face at him. “I literally spent all of my time with you, hanging on your every word. I would have followed you to the ends of the Earth. How could you not have known?”

“I just thought you were being your usual effervescent self. I started dating again to try and let you go.”

Miscommunication. You shake your head. 30 years of heartbreak all because of miscommunication. God, you could bang the pair of your heads together. It’s basically a crappy romance novel. Ok, this is ok. You can fix this. You have pretty much forever left, after all.

Taking the initiative, you lean forward and grasp Elijah’s hand. His eyes fall to where you wrap your fingers around his. A hopeful look takes over his face as he returns to your eyes.

“Elijah?” You smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

He laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. You’re going to make it your personal mission to make him do it more often.

Lifting your knuckles to his lips, he places a gentle kiss on them.

“I can think of nothing else I’d rather do.”

[babymetaldoll]

The morning after (Spilling drinks on my settee part 2) Spencer Reid/Reader

Requested: Yes! it’s my first request! thank you, anon!! 

Prompt: Hungover Spencer has to face Reader after she caught him drunk, puking outside her house. He also has to face Morgan’s teasing after he confessed he was in love with Reader.

Pairing: Spencer/Reader 

Warnings: none 

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1,9K 

Part one here

Masterlist 

.

If it had been up to Spencer, he would have never left his bed that day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the headache that hit him made him realize that was going to be a long day. A long and shitty day. 

He sat on his bed slowly ‘cos the whole room was spinning. He was still fully dressed, why? There was puke on his shoes and pants… and a Gatorade on his nightstand? He was confused, he didn’t leave that there, right? no… maybe? he didn’t really remember. Why was he still dressed? he didn’t remember. How did he get home? he didn’t remember

- “Shit!”

Until he did. 

There was a flash of embarrassment, guilt, and nausea on his face, suddenly it was all coming back. 

- “Shit!”

That was the only word Spencer could use. He had gotten drunk, confessed to Morgan he was in love with (Y/N), he had actually tried to…

- “Shit!”

Maybe alcohol had managed to unplug a part of Reid’s brain, ‘cos apparently, “shit” was the only thing he was able to pronounce, at least for a few minutes.  

All the embarrassing memories of the night before kept coming back to his mind, they were fragments of someone else’s life he was watching from outside. It was all too humiliating. (Y/N) saw him puking outside her house. He was outside her house ‘cos he wanted to know why she had been out on a date with a guy from a dating website. He had told Morgan he loved her, and nearly cried. 

Spencer Walter Reid was doomed, and he knew it. It was going to take a lot of courage, patience, and Gatorade to go through that day. 

His cellphone kept buzzing, but once he realized it wasn’t a case, but (Y/N) and Morgan trying to reach him, he ignored it the whole subway ride to work. He couldn’t even read, his brain wasn’t working, he couldn’t concentrate at all. He just wanted to disappear forever. What had he done? how could he ever face (Y/N) after what happened? And what if Morgan had already told everyone what happened? of course he had, Reid thought, and his red cheeks were now purple. 

Humiliation was written across his face and his stomach tightened as he set foot into the bullpen. He took a quick look around and sighed relieved. Apparently, there was no one else there yet, the whole place seemed empty, although there was a fresh cup of coffee with extra sugar on his desk, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. 

That could only mean one thing. 

- “Hey, how are you feeling this morning?”- Spencer froze in panic and turned around very, very slowly. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure (Y/N) could listen to it. She was waving at him with a shy smile on her face. She didn’t look mad, or uncomfortable. She looked… worried. 

- “H… he… hey, (Y/N)-” he stuttered and waved. He knew he had to say something- anything- but nothing seemed to come to mind. He was literally speechless. 

- “How are you feeling?”

- “G… g… good, I’m good, I’m ok”- Spencer wanted to slap himself. He was humiliated already, but his behavior wasn’t making it any better. He had to put his shit together somehow.

- “I’m glad”- she sighed relieved, rubbing his arm sweetly, and her touch made him shiver right away. He tried to smile at her, but he was left speechless again. It was a painful scene to see. 

- “I was worried sick, you didn’t pick up your phone earlier”- Reid just nodded and looked down.

- “I got you the best recipe to cure your hangover, coffee of course, and I filled half the cup with sugar, just the way you like it”- the way (Y/N) stuck out her tongue and giggled, hypnotized him.

- “I made you a grilled cheese sandwich, I don't know how many times you've woken up feeling like shit after a party, but I'm pretty sure I’ve got a lot more experience than you, and greasy food always helps me coming back to life.”

Spencer nodded, trying to follow the conversation, but his brain was still malfunctioning and his head was pounding sharp and heavy. 

- “And your favorite donut 'cos you need extra sugar”

- “Thanks”- his voice was a sweet whisper. (Y/N) looked at him worried and rubbed a hand on his arm gently again.

- “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck happened last night?”- the painful grimace on Spencer's face was enough.

- “I'm just worried something bad happened to you “

- “No, no, no”- he shook his head frenetically and regretted the movement immediately. His head was killing him- “I just couldn't handle my drinks, that's all.”

- “Are you sure?”- lying to profilers could be the hardest thing on earth.

- “Yeah, yeah”

- “Good, I was worried you were going to call in sick…”- there was a short silence between them, they just stared at each other and sighed. 

(Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking he had called her “Buttercup” and didn’t know how to ask him to do it again, and again, every day. And Reid had no idea what to do next. So he just said the first thing that came to mind.  

- “Did you know hangovers are estimated to cost $148 billion each year due to hangover individuals calling in sick to work or performing poorly on the job.”  

- “Pretty boy!!”

Derek’s voice walking over them made Spencer’s heart stop in fear, he just waved at his friend with his less expressive smile - the one (Y/N) called “frog face”- and just prayed to whatever god that might exist, that Morgan wouldn’t embarrass him more than he was already. 

- “How are you feeling today, kid?”

- “I’m ok, thanks” 

- “You are lucky there’s no case, yet”- Dr. Reid nodded and looked around, trying to find a way to run away from Morgan and (Y/N). 

- “Nice breakfast”

- “I thought he was going to need extra energy today”- the young woman smiled proudly- “And when are you going to explain to me what happened last night? why did you let him get that drunk?”

Morgan knew (Y/N) was going to be mad at him, so he just looked at Spencer and waited to see if he had made up any lie already 

- “I… I told you, I just couldn’t keep up with Derek”

- “Yeah”- his friend immediately supported his lie. Which wasn’t a complete lie- “I pushed Reid to drink at my pace, and I guess pretty boy ain’t ready to drink like a man.”

On a regular day, Spencer would have hated that last comment, ‘cos he was sick and tired of his friend treating him like a toddler. But under those circumstances, he just nodded and tried to stay calm. 

- “And why were you outside my house?” 

- “We were looking for a cab, started walking… and Reid remembered you live close to the bar”- Spencer’s eyes opened wide at those words- “And he wanted to stop by.”

- “No I didn’t”- Reid knew he would lose in a fight with Derek, but he was willing to give it a try and punch him if that successfully stopped him from talking.  

- “Kid, you were drunk, you don’t remember, but you wanted to stop by and see (Y/N)”- the girl looked at Reid and bit her lips

- “Is that so? you got drunk and started thinking of me?”

Spencer couldn’t speak. He felt his hands shaking, so he hid them in his pockets and tried to come up with anything, literally anything to say. But he had nothing.  

- “Yes, pretty boy wanted to see you…”- Morgan just smiled, tapped on Spencer’s back, and walked away chuckling. He knew Reid needed a push to open up to (Y/N). Maybe this was what he needed. 

- “Why did you think of me?”- (Y/N) was now intrigued and excited. Drunk Reid was a whole new side of her friend, and the fact he had dragged Derek to her house when he was intoxicated gave her a little hope. Maybe he liked her too, the way she was head over feet for him.

- “I…”- Spencer was chocking with words, he turned around, grabbed the coffee, and took a sip of it. 

- “You?”

- “I don’t remember”- disappointment was written all over (Y/N)’s face. They just stared. Spencer drank his coffee and the girl simply sighed. 

- “I see”- he could read there was something there, but he didn’t want to get his hopes high. He was sure (Y/N) could never feel the same way he did. Right?

- “Can I ask you something?”- he whispered- “Why didn’t you tell me about the dating website?”

Now (Y/N) was embarrassed. She couldn’t take her eyes from her friend’s as she kept thinking about what to say. How to lie? 

- “It wasn’t important, Prentiss forced me, I didn’t want to do it”- she simply confessed and smiled- “Why?” 

- “I don’t know, it was weird, I thought… well…”

- “You know I tell you everything important”- (Y/N) wanted to make sure Spencer understood that the date had meant nothing. 

- “And… are you planning to do it again?”

- “Never”- the smile on her lips was so honest, Spencer’s heart was relieved- “So, tomorrow’s Saturday, got any plan?”- those words, they were music for his ears. 

- “Actually, there is a Russian horror movie festival tomorrow night, they’ll be showing Solaris, Viy, and Lyumi”

- “Original Russian, I presume”

- “But this time I’m pretty sure there will be subtitles”- (Y/N) pouted disappointed.

- “Bummer, I like when you have to translate the whole movie for me”- and she meant it, having Reid whispering every word in her ear for two hours was the closest she had been to heaven in her entire life. The young doctor chuckled with a huge grin and turned to his desk again. 

- “Usually, translation doesn’t represent the intention behind the dialog…”- Reid was full of it and he knew it, but he had nothing to lose and lot to win- “So if you want, I can still whisper the English version for you”.

Those last words left his lips as quickly as possible, ‘cos he was embarrassed. 

- “Then it’s a date”- her smile was bigger than imagined when she turned around and started walking to her desk. 

Was it a date? why did she say that? Reid tried to stay cool and not overthink everything, but it was Reid, which meant it was hard, nearly impossible. Overthinking was his thing. 

He wanted to go out on a date with (Y/N), but… was that actually a date? what if he brought flowers for her and she didn’t mean “date” as a date but just as two friends going out together? that would be mortifying. 

(Y/N) didn’t know if Spencer had thought she wanted it to be a real date. She did, she just didn’t know if she was asking or if he had or… 

Yes, they were both excellent overthinkers. 

- “Hey, honey”- if she was already embarrassed and anxious about using the word “date”, she could always make it worst.

Spencer turned to look at her he took a bite of his sandwich. 

- “It was really sweet last night when you called me Buttercup”- Reid nearly choked. He had completely forgotten about it, and suddenly he felt the urge to run and hide. But he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t even swallow the food he was chewing 

- “You had never called me by a nickname before…”- she bit her lips and took a deep breath- “I loved it… in case you want to use it again.”

Spencer nodded and watched his best friend walk away to get herself a coffee. He could feel someone else’s eyes on him from across the office. Morgan winked at him and nodded. 

- “Nice, kid”

.

[itsthewritergal]

My lips are sealed - F.W. x reader

This is my first ever long fic! This will probably be about four parts :) 

Warnings - mentions of abortion but nothing in detail, please don’t read if it may trigger you xx 

Part Two 

Part Three

Y/N held the test in a sweaty palm. She never knew how long two minutes could be, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the shop. She paced the staff room floor waiting for the results. She drummed her fingers along her thigh in an attempt to distract her mind. It didn’t work. She knew that the shop was busy but she had to know. Her alarm cut through the tension, quickly grabbing the test. She looked at it in despair.

Positive.

“Y/N I know you’re on your break but we’re swamped” George said walking into the staff room. Y/N quickly hid the test into her bag, wiping the tears off her face

“I’m coming” She said plastering a fake smile onto her face. George gave her a wary look, noticing the way her voice wavered, she walked past him quickly.

George kept a watchful eye on Y/N for the rest of the day, something was wrong. He just didn’t know what, Y/N was usually good at telling the twins when something was going on, which was why George was so confused why Y/N wasn’t saying anything.

----

Fred closed the shop door with a content sigh and a grin on his face,

“Well that was a good day! Anyone wanting drinks? I’ll get the first round” He suggested raising an eyebrow at both George and Y/N knowing that they almost never turn down an opportunity to go drinking

“Yeah sounds good” George grinned “Y/N?” He asked turning his attention to the girl who sat behind the till in her own little world, paying no attention to the conversation “Y/N” He said again, making her jolt her head up towards him

“What?” She asked confused, not realising she had been ignoring them both “Drinks?” Fred said with a grin

“Yeah sure” She said with a forced smile.

“Perfect! You two go, I’ll meet you there in a moment, I’ve just got to grab my coat” Fred grinned ushering George and Y/N out of the shop.

They sat in their usual booth in the corner of the crowded pub. Y/N still just as distracted as she was in the shop, “What’s going on?” George asked drawing Y/N’s attention away from picking at the nail polish on her fingers

“Nothing” She said quietly “I’m just super tired” She lied easily, George didn’t pick up on it.

Fred slid himself in next to George, placing their drinks down on the table.

“Drink up” He smiled

Y/N lifted the drink to her lips but with one sip she felt herself about to throw up. Climbing out of the booth she ran towards the toilets.

Y/N sat on the bathroom floor her head over the toilet. She let herself cry for a few moments, suddenly feeling completely alone. She heard a knock on the door, it was muffled.

“I’ll be out in a second” she said picking herself up off the floor, splashing some water on her face, there was yet another knock. With a huff she unlocked the door, she was greeted with a concerned looked George.

“You okay?” He asked,

“Yeah I’m fine, I think it’s just a bug. I’m going to go home” She said with a smile

“Call me if you need anything” he said giving her a comforting hug.

George made his way back to the table once Y/N had walked out of the pub.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fred asked

“Think she’s coming down with something”

“That’s not good” Fred said with a sad look “I’ll go see her tomorrow and check on her” He promised.

----

George was late, which left Y/N and Fred to manage the shop alone. It was a Monday morning which meant that nobody was in Diagon Ally, leaving both Y/N and Fred sitting behind the till. Fred was in the middle of telling Y/N all about the new products that he was working on. Y/N didn’t noticed how he got distracted by her and fumbled over his words every now and then.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you laugh” He said quietly

“We haven’t exactly had much time to ourselves recently” She said with a sad smile

“Not since the party” Fred said. Y/N refused to meet his eye, she had attempted to push that night out of her head “I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken about it” he added

“it’s fine Freddie” She dismissed, not wanting to admit that it meant a lot to her

“It was a drunken mistake” He started “I think we should just move on and not talk about it” He said with a wary smile, not wanting to let on that he in fact wanted to do the exact opposite

“Yeah I suppose that would be best” Y/N smiled sadly, knowing that the last thing she wanted to do was forget about it.  

“You know I-”

“Morning morning!” George cut Fred off with a shout “Anyone fancy coffee?” He asked

“Not for me” Y/N said the sick feeling still evident in her stomach

“You feeling ok? When do you ever turn down coffee?” Fred laughed

“I think I’m still feeling a bit off from yesterday” She lied

“If you’re coming down with something you really should go home” Fred said with a concerned look

“I’m not, I think I just ate something dodgy” She said. Fred opened his mouth to speak when her phone cut through the shop “Sorry I’ve got to get this” She apologised walking a little away from the counter as she answered the phone.

“Hi is that Y/N Y/L/N?” The lady said 

“Yeah it is” She answered

“It’s Lorraine from St Mungo’s, we can fit you in on Thursday, if you are still interested” she said, her tone was kind and it made Y/N feel at home

“What time?” She asked

“11, Is that okay?”

“I’ll be there” Y/N confirmed.

Y/N made her way back towards the twins who looked at her in confusion. She sat herself down without another word. Knowing that she didn’t want them to start grilling her with questions. Y/N decided to talk to George separately later, she didn’t want to get Fred involved.

-----

George was restocking the love potions carefully when Y/N tapped him on the shoulder.

“I need to ask you something” she said

“What’s up?” He asked turning to face her

“I need to take Thursday off” She said quietly not wanting to draw Fred’s attention

“Is everything okay?” George asked noticing how she picked at her nail varnish

“Yeah I just have an appointment” She said unsure of what else to say

“I’m sure me and Fred will manage” George grinned slightly, turning back to the potions. “Although as thanks for being so understanding you can restock these” He grinned thrusting the box into her hands. With a laugh Y/N took over.

-----

The shop was quiet all day, yet Y/N kept herself busy. She knew the moment she stopped she would think, and she didn’t want to think about anything. She had managed to avoid both the twins most of the day, she just wasn’t feeling up to being sociable. At the end of her shift she grabbed her bag and her coat and made her way towards the door.

George pulled Y/N aside just as she was making her way outside “Is everything ok?” He asked, looking her up and down with a concerning eye

“Yes of course it is” She smiled “Why do you ask?” She asked nervously

“I had a phone call from St Mungo’s, you had the shop phone as you’re secondary number” He explained “They wanted to confirm your appointment for Thursday” He said

“They didn’t tell you what it was did they?” She asked quickly panic beginning to rise up 

“No, but it sounded serious” George said “I’m your friend. What’s going on” he asked

“It’s just a check up” She lied

“Didn’t sound like it” he said “I’m worried about you”

Y/N studied her shoes closely, George said her name once more, she lifted her head up and looked at George

“I’m pregnant” She said quietly holding his gaze

“Oh Y/N” he sighed “Are you-” he trailed off unsure of whether to ask the question which was on his lips.

“Yeah I am” She answered knowing exactly what he was going to say

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked,

“No I’ll be okay” She smiled slightly  “just please don’t tell anyone” She added

“I promise, my lips are sealed” George said with a sad smile

[writemywaytoyourheart]

BTS Reaction: Accidentally Hurting You During A Fight

Requested: many many moons ago. but like I said, ya girl is working her tail off to get these done now and I'm so sorry ;-; also, I made it more accidental, I felt like you have to intentionally slap someone, but idk maybe I'm wrong haha

Genre: fluff, angst if ya squint real good -_-

Warnings: nothing really, this is all pure accidental, no abuse.

Hope you like it^^

============================

KIM SEOKJIN:

chip.exe. has stopped working

Your husband angrily unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car, slamming his door and stalking towards the house. You sigh and unbuckle, not really wanting to follow him in but not really having any other choice.

When you open the door, you see him on the couch, a scowl on his face as he scrolls on his phone. You sigh again and sit on the couch a bit away from him. “Jin, why are you mad at me? It wasn’t my idea for them to invite him.” You pout and he scoffs before looking at you over his phone.

“You should’ve known your friends would do something like that.”

It’s true.

They weren’t the best group of people, you only hung out with them because you don’t have many other friends. You know they only befriended you because your husband is famous, but again, you’re lonely. But you really didn’t know they would be inviting your ex to the party. You would never have gone if you did. Still, you could’ve made better decisions.

“Jin please, I was stupid and I’ll admit that. Please don’t be mad at me.”

He gets up from the couch and walks away, wanting to calm down in the room before discussing things further. He just needs to take a minute to collect his thoughts.

Your ex was abusive and dangerous, and Seokjin got scared. He was scared for your safety and it came out in anger this time, knowing something bad could’ve happened to you.

He doesn’t realize you followed him though, so he shuts the bedroom door roughly and it swings back hitting you right in the face just as you were about to go in after him. He flinches when he hears a loud bang and you gasp in pain.

“Ouch! What was that for?” You hold your nose gingerly and glare at him, thinking he did it on purpose. Jin looks really confused until he realizes what happened. Then he gasps and walks over to you. “Oh my gosh, princess I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were there.” He frowns and reaches out to take your face gently. You try to hide your smile at the fact that he called you by your favorite pet name, which means he’s not angry anymore.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says again sadly, so you smile and hug him, “Oh it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore.” Jin hugs you back and kisses your head sweetly.

“I’m also sorry for getting so angry with you. I was just afraid what might happen to you, and it came out wrong.” He says quietly, still hugging you tightly. You hum and tuck your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a kiss to let him know everything is okay. 

“Let’s get some ice for your nose, princess.” Jin says before sweeping you up off the ground and carrying you bridal style to the living room

MIN YOONGI:

I want an hug 

“Yoongi~ Please come g-get me, I’mmm dlunk…I sink…I sink I dlunk but I no know any...what?”

Yoongi groans at the sound of your voice coming through the phone. He knew this would happen. You insisted on going out with your girls tonight and he just knew it would end up like this. He takes a deep breath and tries to stay calm.

“Where are you?” He grits out.

You hiccup and shrug even though he can’t see it. “I sink I’m at the bar? I sink maybe?”

He groans again as he grabs his jacket and car keys, “Which bar, Y/n? I’m going to come get you. But I need to know which one you’re at.”

“Umm….um I’m at this bar I sink.”

Yoongi curses and tells you to sit down and not move until he gets there. Then he looks up your phone on the tracker you and he have for instances such as these. He quickly locates you and jumps in the car to go and get you.

When he sees you leaning against the wall outside the bar with a man that’s getting up in your grill, he grits his teeth and stomps towards the pair of you. The man is yanked to the side by Yoongi grabbing his collar, then you feel a strong grip on your arm. “Ow. That hurts.” You whine, but your husband isn’t having it. He drags you away from the bar and towards the car.

On the way, your heel twists and you trip from how hard he’s pulling you. You fall on the ground and hiss in pain. “Ouch! You’re a meanie!” You cry, touching your sore ankle tenderly.

Yoongi immediately feels guilty. He crouches down and touches your ankle, pulling back when you wince. “Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to make you trip.” Through your drunken state you can see him frown, so you pat his cheek, a bit hard, and smile goofily. “Is okiiieee baby, I fowgive you.”

He chuckles and scoops you up in his arms, still feeling really bad about hurting you. He carries you to the car and up the stairs when you get home. Getting you a glass of water and some headache medicine, he sits on the edge of the bed and holds your hand until you’re out like a light.

JUNG HOSEOK:

oh save me 

“I said I’m not finished, Y/n!” Hoseok raises his voice and you frown at his attitude. “Ok, you know what? I didn’t do anything wrong for you to treat me this way, Hobi. You promised you’d have dinner with me tonight and now I find you still practicing after everyone else has gone home. How is that fair to me?”

You cross your arms and watch him roll his eyes, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. He walks closer to you, a frown etched into his usually cheerful face. “If I need to work on something, you need to respect that.”

You scoff in disbelief. “Excuse me? And what about you respecting me? I canceled all my plans and I took the time to get ready so I could be with you. You’re the one at fault here, Hobi.”

Your fiancé rolls his eyes and yanks the jacket he had on off, then he turns and walks away. You glare at the back of his head and mutter, “You suck at keeping promises. I should’ve known.” That sets him off and he stalks back towards you. “Don’t you ever stop? Are you wanting to fight or something?” He growls angrily and you glare at him defiantly.

“You started it by breaking your promise and wasting my time.”

Before he starts yelling, he takes a deep breath and walks away again, throwing the jacket he isn’t using behind him angrily.

Except he didn’t consider the fact that you’re right behind him.

The jacket whips you in the face, and it probably wouldn’t have hurt except the zipper hit your eye and you yelp in pain.

Hoseok turns around at your cry and sees you clutching your right eye. “Shit. Babe, are you okay?” He immediately comes back and tries to take your face to look at your eye. But you pull away and glare at him with your one good seeing orb.

“Don’t touch me.”

He frowns at your tone but brings his hands back anyway. He knows he took it too far and he’s the one in the wrong, he just doesn’t know how to apologize for it right now.

You wince and cup your face again, then you head to the door, not wanting to be here any longer. Hobi follows you and gently takes your elbow. “y/n, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you, it was an accident. And I’m sorry for what I said, that was a jerk move.”

You hesitate and listen to him ramble. “It was stupid of me to stay and make you wait and even stupider to blame you and take it out on you. I’m really sorry. Please don’t leave.”

You sigh and turn to see him still frowning guiltily at your now red eye. “Oh, I forgive you, you big idiot.” You chuckle and he gives you a small smile. He still feels like shit for hurting you.

“Can I help you with your eye?” He asks and you nod. Then he grabs his bags and leads you out of the room to find some ice, “We can get takeout tonight, then I’ll take you for dinner tomorrow when your eye is better.”

You look at him warily and he laughs, “I promise, I won’t let you down this time.”

He didn’t 😉

KIM NAMJOON:

Huhuhuuu cute

Namjoon drops his bag by the front door with a tired grunt. Today was long, and ridiculous. It seems like every little thing that could’ve gone wrong, did. All he wants to do is take a shower, eat some food, and go to sleep. He hears you humming in the kitchen and sighs again in relief before walking to where you are.

“I’m going to wash up.” He says blankly, taking you by surprise. You turn and smile brightly at him, “Hey, baby! You’re home! I’m making your favori-“ You cut yourself off when he just nods and walks away to the back. You frown, trying not to let it get to you. He must’ve had a bad day, you think as you finish up making dinner.

Namjoon comes out fifteen minutes later, his hair damp as he sits at the table and eats silently. You try to make conversation, but he just keeps blowing you off, so you stop trying. He finishes eating and immediately goes to get ready for bed. You do the dishes, in a sour mood yourself now, then you head to get ready as well. You see him lying on the bed and reading a book. When you come out from the bathroom, he’s still ignoring you. So, you climb in bed and try to tell him goodnight.

“I’m sorry if you had a bad day.” You say quietly, then you see him roll his eyes and continue reading. That does it. You reach over and try to take the book out of his hand so he’ll at least look at you. But when your fingers grip the book, he wrenches it away from you and a page of the book slices your finger. You hiss and bring your finger to your face, trying not to cry from how bad it stung.

“A-are you okay?” Namjoon looks at you worriedly, not meaning to hurt you when he pulled away. You just stay silent and glare at him before walking to get yourself a band-aid, giving him a taste of his own medicine. He sighs, knowing that he messed up big time.

When you come back and lay down, you turn your back to him and close your eyes. When you feel his arms on your waist you push them off roughly. Namjoon sighs again and whispers, “I’m sorry, honey. I had a horrible day, but that’s no excuse. I took it out on you when you did nothing wrong. Then I hurt you, because I was being stupid.”

You can hear the sadness in his voice, so you turn around and look at him blankly. “You’re a jerk.”

“I know.”

“I hate papercuts.”

“I know, babe. I’m sorry.”

You frown and nudge his shoulder, making him look at you, guilt filling his gaze. “As long as you promise not to behave like that again, I’ll forgive you.”

“I promise, love.”

“Ok.” You give him a small smile and he smiles back before grabbing your hand and giving your bandaged finger a kiss.

PARK JIMIN:

eyeyeyeyeyeyeuueuhelpme

Jimin saw you talking to Taehyung a lot tonight. You were at the boys’ dorm hanging out with them and Taehyung had a lot to talk to you about, catching up since you haven’t seen them in forever.

You never meant to ignore your boyfriend, you just wanted to hang out with the others since you haven’t seen them in so long. But Jimin, being the jealous boy he is, couldn’t stop himself from scowling at the two of you all night. It annoyed him further when Jungkook pointed out that he was looking a little grumpy.

Of course, he’s grumpy! His own girlfriend prefers his friends over him.

A little later in the night you realize that Jimin isn’t sitting on the couch anymore. You look around but don’t see him. After checking in the kitchen and bathrooms, you head to his bedroom.

You knock on the door and walk in when he mumbles a ‘come in’. He’s lying on his bed and scrolling through his phone. When he sees you, he just rolls his eyes and looks back at his phone.

“Chim? Are you okay?” You ask quietly as you close the door and walk over to his bed to stand next to it. He doesn’t respond, he just keeps watching his phone. You frown and reach over to take his phone, but he snatches it away and glares at you.

“So, you suddenly realized I exist, huh?” He snaps.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you care? I thought you’d be chatting it up with Taehyung right now.”

“What the hell is your problem?” You growl angrily, not appreciating the way he’s speaking to you. Jimin hesitates, realizing that maybe he’s being a little too dramatic, but his jealousy gets the best of him as he stands up and walks to the door, opening it for you to leave as he snaps.

“Just get out.”

You stare at him in annoyance, then you walk over and try to touch his arm to calm him down so you can figure out what’s going on. But Jimin flinches angrily and accidentally shoves you away from him. You stumble back and look at him in shock. Jimin finally processes what he just did, and his eyes widen.

“Y-y/n, I didn’t mean to-“

You shove past him and walk out of his room, heading straight to the front door. Jimin follows behind you quickly, the other members watch the two of you worriedly as you storm out.

Jimin follows you out onto the porch and takes your arm. You yank it away and glare at him. “What the hell is your problem, Jimin?”

He swallows the lump in his throat and looks at the ground. “I’m sorry. I never meant to push you. I was being stupid and selfish. I was jealous of how much time you were spending with Tae and not me, so I got mad. I really didn’t mean to push you though, I’m so sorry,”

You look at him a while longer, still extremely angry. “I wasn’t purposely ignoring you. You had no right to accuse me of that and then shove me, even if that last part was an accident.”

“I know.” He keeps looking at the ground. “I admit I was an idiot. A selfish idiot.”

You just watch him for another minute, seeing how genuinely upset and remorseful he is.

“I forgive you.” You mumble, making Jimin look up, his eyes brightening. “But that doesn’t mean I’m happy.” You add and he nods. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

KIM TAEHYUNG:

yes sir daddy, daddy sir mister 

You look at all the pretty dresses in the store windows happily, gripping your boyfriend’s hand as you two stroll down the sidewalk. A group of guys pass by, but you pay them no mind. Taehyung, however, notices them staring at your legs immediately. He glowers at them and they look away quickly, but the anger is already there.

“I told you that skirt was too short.” He mutters angrily and you look at him, “What?”

He huffs and looks behind him at the group that’s walking away now. “Those guys were checking you out right in front of me.”

You sigh and squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, baby. You know that.” He looks away and takes his hand out of yours, upsetting you at his sudden change in behavior. “Tae-“

“Let’s just go home.” He cuts you off.

You cross your arms and stop walking. “No, I don’t want to go home. Just because there was a group of stupid boys, doesn’t mean we have to leave.”

“I told you your skirt was too revealing!”

“That isn’t fair! It’s not too revealing, and I can decide what I want to wear!”

The argument heats up and a few old couples look at you as they pass by, irritating Taehyung even more. To be honest, he loves your style and he trusts you completely. It isn’t even about the skirt, it’s about how much he hates it when guys ogle girls in the streets, and his own girlfriend now at that!

But now he’s just being stubborn and fighting with you about the skirt because you said he was wrong. It’s stupid, and he knows it. But he is too annoyed to care. You glare at him defiantly and stomp your foot. “You’re being a jerk, and I did nothing wrong! It isn’t my fault men can’t keep their eyes to themselves!” Then you turn and walk away in a huff. Taehyung sighs internally and moves to follow you, his nerves still on edge and irritated at fighting with you.

That’s when you go to cross the street, so angry that you didn’t notice the light change, and you almost get hit by an oncoming car. But Taehyung reaches out and grabs your wrist, yanking you back to the sidewalk and shouting, “Be careful! You almost got hit!” His frustration and fear of you getting hurt made him grip your wrist too hard, making you wince in pain.

He notices and let’s go so fast it’s almost like you burned him. “Ah, sorry. I just didn’t want you to get hit. I-I’m sorry, I was too rough.” You hold your reddened wrist and sigh. “You don’t have to get so defensive, Tae.” You grumble and he nods. “I know, I just got annoyed and wanted the last word. I dragged on the argument for no good reason, and I’m sorry.”

You nod and give him a halfhearted smile. “I know you get mad when people look at girls inappropriately, and I’m sorry for being insensitive about that. I guess I got defensive too.” He shakes his head and moves to take your wrist gently, “Your outfit is perfectly fine and you look beautiful baby. I’ll try to keep my temper from now on. I’m so sorry about your wrist.” He looks at it sadly and you touch his cheek. “Hey, don’t worry. I know it was an accident. Thank you for not letting me get hit by a car.” You giggle and he chuckles, nodding his head and kissing you on the cheek.

He takes you into a convenience store to grab a pain relief patch and puts it on your wrist gently. Then he kisses your forehead sweetly and you continue with your date.

JEON JUNGKOOK:

pllsssss….. hug me :(

“Where were you?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes when he sees you crossing your arms and watching him the second he comes in the door. “Practice.”

“Until three in the morning, Jungkook?” You scoff in disbelief.

Jungkook drops his bag and moves past you, “Yeah, actually. Believe it or not, but I actually work.”

You stare at him in disbelief as he walks to the bedroom, not caring at all about what he’s saying. You follow him and glare at him as he changes into his sleep clothes. “I have a job, Jungkook. But I don’t stay out till three in the damn morning doing it. And then fail to inform you I’ll be late and leave you to worry.”

Jungkook sighs and tosses his dirty clothes into the laundry basket before glaring at you. “Teaching children the alphabet and how to color is hardly something to call a job.” He snaps, making your eyes water.

“You don’t have to be such an ass. Just because your job is more physically demanding doesn’t mean I don’t get tired. And that has nothing to do with not telling me you’ll be late and not answering your phone.” You snap back.

Your husband just moves past you to get something to eat before bed, but you aren’t done yet. You follow him and continue angrily. “Now you’re ignoring me? You’re in the wrong here, Jungkook. You didn’t tell me you’d be late, you made me worry, and you’re the one that started being mean first!”

Jungkook has had enough, so he turns around to rant about how annoying and nagging you are. “Just stop it! You’re always nagging me and-“ But he doesn’t know that you’re right behind him when he flings his arms out. One of his hands smacks you hard on the face and you flinch, grabbing your sore cheek as you stumble back and trying not to let your eyes water.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock when it clicks in his brain that he just slapped you. “Shit, baby. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He reaches out to you, but you flinch away. Not because you’re afraid he’ll hurt you again, but because you’re still angry and don’t want him to touch you. It still breaks his heart.

Your watery eyes glare at him and you turn on your heel to go to the room. He follows you but you slam the door in his face, so he stands there, not knowing how to fix what he did. After a minute, he hears you crying and goes to open the door. It’s unlocked thankfully. So, he hurries in and sits next to you on the bed. You’re curled up by the headboard and looking away from him angrily.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie. You know I would never hurt you on purpose, don’t you?” He asks sadly, wanting to hug you.

You stay silent for a minute, then nod stiffly. He sighs and reaches to take your chin and tilt your head to see your cheek. When he sees the little red mark, he beats himself up mentally even more.

You turn your glare back to him. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but that doesn’t change the mean things you said.”

Jungkook nods sadly, “I know. I don’t know how to show you how sorry I am…”

“Why were you being such a jerk?”

“I had a rough day, but that doesn’t excuse anything I said. We weren’t allowed to leave practice until we got it right. By the time that happened it was almost three. I came right home after. My phone died so I wasn’t able to text you.” You nod in understanding, but he continues. “You’re an amazing teacher, y/n. I don’t know why I said that about your job, I really didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

You shrug, still feeling the raw hurt from his words. “I’m sorry you had a tough day.” You mumble, and he hugs you tightly. “I don’t deserve you, y/n. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

“Well, you can start by cuddling me to sleep.”

“Deal.” 

=========================================

a/n: sorryy if there are any typos, im so tired ok goodnight. 

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 8

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

8.

With firm hands on her hips, Angel led Nina in front of him; only letting go to hold the door for her to enter the clubhouse. Inside, they found both clubs neck deep in their first beers. Tig was seated on a chair with Chucky on his lap; bouncing the little smiling man up and down on his knee, while he hugged him tight. “I missed you so much, Chucky! Are they treating you ok? Do they feed you?”. He looked at Hank who was laughing at the scene. “You know, he likes his eggs sunny side up. And you need to make sure he doesn’t drink diet coke. It upsets his tummy”. Letty had showed up while she was getting ready, and was seated by the bar nursing a coke; Coco hovering over her, and giving any Son who looked in her direction a death-glare. Leticia was wearing a turtleneck, as she’d been told. The fact that it was a crop-top didn’t seem to matter to her.

Nina pulled at Angel’s cut to make him lean his ear down to her lips. “I’m gonna go spend some time with my other family, before VM rolls in, and I have to pretend not to know them”, she said. “Please don’t get all macho again”. “Can’t promise anything”, Angel said, and placed a possessive kiss on her neck. She pushed him away, and went to sit down with her brothers. After taking a chair between Rat and Happy, Ratboy gestured at her neck. “You got a little something…”, he smirked. Letty jumped off her chair, and handed Nina a pocket mirror, to examine the hickey Angel had left there, just below the one he’d made the day before. “Shit. What are you; 13?”, she growled at Angel. He smiled smugly, and grabbed a beer, before going over to stand by EZ.

Rat gave Letty a shy once-over, and Nina patted his arm. “Don’t… Her dad was a sniper in Iraq”, she muttered. Letty smiled at Rat, before going back to the bar. “That’s her father?”, Rat whispered, and looked at Coco. “Yup…”, Nina replied. Coco took a huff of his smoke, and leaned against the bar; moving his cut so that his gun was visible. Rat swallowed thickly, and moved his focus back to his beer.

Happy elbowed her softly, and pulled out his phone, to show her a picture on the screen. “Wendy checked in”, he said. The picture was of Thomas with his face covered in chocolate. Abel was running in the background, wielding a supersoaker. Nina let out a soft sigh. “God, that kid looks like Jax”, she said. “Which one?”, Happy grunted. Nina chuckled sadly, and the biker put an arm around her. “Yeah… I know”.

“So, you’re coming back with us, right?”, Tig asked; having finally let Chucky go. “No, she isn’t…”, Filip said, having appeared at the table with a glass of scotch in hand. “What?”, Happy said, his expression suddenly angry. Filip sat down, and Bishop pulled up a chair next to him. The two presidents gave each other a knowing but hard look. “It seems our Nina has sold herself into servitude”, Filip said. Tig leaned forward and shook his head. “Nah… Nuh uh. What the fuck is this shit?”, he said. “She’s not some piece of ass for you to…”. “Relax, Trager. It’s not like that”, Bishop said. “Then tell us what it is!”, Quinn said. Filip gestured for Bishop to continue, an irritated but defeated expression on his face. “As you know, Vatos Malditos are coming to Santo Padre. They’re going to offer us money to help them search for Nina”, Bishop said. “You told them…?”, Tig roared.

The Sons jumped to their feet, hands on their weapons. The Mayans responded in kind, and it seemed that what had just been a nice get together, now was about to turn in to a massacre. Letty and Chucky dove behind the bar, and Nina got on her feet. She grabbed Filip’s glass, and flung it at the wall; smashing it into a thousand pieces. “Enough!”, she roared. “Fuck! It’s like dealing with overgrown children…”. She scowled deeply at all the men. “Sit your asses down, and listen!”. “Yeah, fucking listen!”, Creeper growled. Nina drew her lips back in a snarl. “Shut the fuck up, Creep; or I’ll superglue your dick to your balls!”. Creep looked dumbstruck. “Are you gonna let your girl talk to me like that, brother?”, he asked Angel. “Fuck, yeah”, Angel said. “Oh, and you and me are in the cage tonight”. Creeper sat down, cursing bellow his breath.

Once everyone was seated, and more or less calm, Bishop continued. “You know how it is… We can’t risk money and potential war for an outsider. You wouldn’t either…”. “I’m staying here, working for San Pad for a year”, Nina explained. “That way, the Mayans couldn’t hand me over, even if they wanted to. It would be against their rules, because I’ll be a part of the family here”. “And we’re supposed to trust that they won’t do it anyway… Why?”, Happy asked. “Because Nina does…”, Filip said, giving her a meaningful look. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do; but as it is, I don’t see another way out. We brought our girl down here; put her in the care of not just another charter, but another club all together. I blame myself… But this is a better solution than all-out war”. The Sons all shared angry and defeated glances. “And after her year is over?”, Tig asked. “That’ll be up to Nina”, Bishop said. “She does good work around here. If she wants to stay…”. “Niña is family”, Coco said, getting concurring nods from the rest of the Mayans. Filip got to his feet. “We’ll deal with that 12 months from now. But you better treat her like a fucking queen, or we will come back down here, and burn this shit-hole to the ground”, he said. “I need a new drink”.

---

A few hours later, after Bishop had explained the plan of letting Nina disappear into the crowd to SAMCRO, the first guests began arriving. Nina rushed around, dealing out orders to the hangarounds who were going to take care of the guests that night. She was overseeing the setting up of the sound equipment outside the clubhouse, while simultaneously refilling the bar set up by the porch. Daniella had decided to show up, in spite of Angel’s rejection. She kept to herself; once in a while sharing some words with some of the other guests. Angel didn’t pay her any attention, though not for her not trying to catch it.

Suddenly, there was a roar of bikes coming up the driveway. Nina instantly froze in place, only to move again, when EZ came up to her, and pulled at her wrist. “You good?”, he said. “Is it them?”, she whispered. EZ looked towards the incoming bikers, and nodded slightly. Nina let out a slight gasp. She turned around, and saw a group of men dressed in denim cuts; none of them looking friendly. They got off their bikes and walked up to greet Bishop, and Filip; who’d followed him outside. The Mayans and the Sons all took their places on the porch, each with their own faction. The leader of the group stepped forwards. He was a brusque and serious looking man, with a long braid down his back. His eyes were cold, and she recognized the family resemblance to Gael. El Palo.

Angel shot her a short look, before looking at EZ. His eyes would have seemed indifferent to anyone else, but Nina could see what he was saying. We got this, querida; and; take care of her, brother. “They’re just gonna stare each other down a bit”, EZ said, trying to calm her. Nina nodded slightly, but was unable to control her breath. It was like someone had a vice-grip on her lungs. EZ looked down at her, and frowned slightly. “I need…”, she heaved. “Time to disappear”, he muttered. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, as if they were about to find a quiet corner together, he led her towards the trailer. Most of the people around them ignored them. It was perfectly normal for couples to get a bit frisky, and needing to release some steam at these kinds of parties. They passed a group of women chattering excitedly. Daniella was among them, and smirked when she saw EZ’s grip on Nina.

As soon as he’d opened the door, Nina stumbled inside the trailer, and grabbed her inhaler from the table. In her shaking state, she dropped it on the floor, and EZ picked it up, handing it to her. She took a hit, and felt her lungs relax. “I’m sorry”, she panted. EZ put a calming hand on her shoulder, and smiled. “You’re ok”, he said. “Just breathe”. Nina took a few deep breaths, and put her forehead on his shoulder. “Thanks”, she said. “Is one brother not enough for you?”. Daniella was standing outside the open door. Nina scowled at her, but didn’t reply; still too wound up to be able to form a proper comeback. Ezekiel went down to face Daniella, and stared her down. “If you wanna stay, behave”, he said. “Otherwise, get the fuck out”. Nina put down her inhaler on the table, and walked outside; closing the door behind her. EZ put his arm around her shoulders again. “Puta…”, Daniella mouthed. Nina shot her the middle finger, and let EZ lead her away.

The staredown seemed to be over, and all three clubs had scattered to enjoy the party. “I have to go take care of the grill”, EZ said. “Will you be ok?”. “Yeah…”, Nina lied. He squeezed her shoulder, and left her to go tend to his job.

She stood for a long moment, looking over the frivolities. Happy and Gilly were looking on, as Angel revved the engine of his bike by the gate separating the scrapyard from the clubhouse area. The Son looked impressed, and let a pretty girl crawl under his arm, and press against him. Hank was studying the tattoo on the arm of a VM. Coco was pulling Letty off a table, where’s she’d been dancing. Nina made eye contact with Filip for a second, and he winked at her quickly, before going back to nursing his beer, and the gorgeous brunette on his lap.

She went up the steps to the porch, and opened the door to the clubhouse, to go inside; when she bumped straight in to a denim-clad chest. “Perdóneme…”, a raspy voice said. She looked up, and locked eyes with a Vato, with inquisitive and cold eyes. She parted her lips – unable to speak – and let out a short, nervous breath. “Let me get this for you”, he said, and held the door open for her. “Thanks…”, she muttered, and walked by him as calmly as she could. Taza was seated by the bar, and when he saw her expression, his eyes flickered for a moment, looking at the VM-biker. “Yo, sweetheart. Get me a beer, would you?”, he called out. “Uh huh”, Nina croaked, and slipped behind the bar as fast as she could. She grabbed a Sol from the fridge, and placed it in front of the VP. Sala disappeared off to somewhere. “You’re doing good, kid”, Taza said quietly. She nodded, and tried to smile.

Tig joined them at the bar, and looked in the bowl of apricots. “I see you’ve let Nina take care of the snacks…”, he chuckled; while looking around to check that none of the VM who were spread around the room were listening. “You have so much to learn”. Taza patted his shoulder. “Educate me, brother”, he smiled. Nina handed Tig a beer, and wiped down the bar, as the two men began sharing stories. After a few shots with the VP's, she felt about as embarrassed as EZ must have felt, after Felipe had told her the story of how he wet himself on the Ferris wheel at a state fair. “… I’m telling you, Taza. Her face was as green as the absinth-liqueur she’d been drinking; and she was dancing on the bar to the national anthem”, Tig said. Taza roared with laughter. “Happy and I had to carry her to bed; and we came back to check on her, she’d snuck out the window of the dorm – the door was unlocked, mind you – and she was running around the lot demanding piggyback-rides from every patch in presence”. Nina cleared her throat. “I think I’m gonna go check on the bar outside”, she said. “Aw, am I embarrassing you, muffin?”, Tig said. “Yes”, Nina said shortly, and shot both men a smile, before grabbing a case of beer, and walking towards the door.

One the porch, she was met by the Vato she’d bumped in to earlier. He gave her unpleasantly leering once-over, before reaching for the case in her arms. “Let me help you", he said. “You don’t have to do that”, she replied. “I insist”, he said, and took the case from her. Nina gave him a polite smile, and gestured towards the bar by the garage. “I’m Sala”. “It’s over here”, she said, avoiding giving him her name. She was just a random hangaround, she kept reminding herself; no one special. She walked ahead of him, not wanting to make it seem like she was interested in having a conversation. Once they arrived at the fridge set up behind the table set up as a makeshift bar, Sala set down the case. She nodded at him. “I can take it from here”, she said, and went to open the fridge. The biker grabbed her arm, and made her turn around; getting a little too close for comfort. “Have someone else do it. Let’s go somewhere private…”, he smirked. “No thanks”, Nina croaked, and pulled her arm from his grasp; backing away. “I don’t think my…”. She didn’t know how to label Angel; it was still too fresh. “I’m here with someone else”. Sala frowned teasingly. “Come on…”, he said, and took a step towards her again. “You look like you like to have fun…”.

“Hey, mami. How are you doing?”, Angel said from behind her; placing his arm protectively around her waist. Nina almost gasped in relief. Happy came up next to them, giving the VM-biker his trademark stink-eye. “This your girl, Reyes?”, Sala said. “Yeah, is she?”, Happy said, looking towards Angel for a split second; and took a sip of his beer. Angel tucked Nina into his side. “Yeah… she is”, he said. “Want to make something of it, carnal?”, he asked Sala. A smile ghosted Happy’s face, and he met Nina’s eyes; nodding shortly. “Sala!”, someone barked from across the lot. Palo had been observing the interaction, a displeased scowl on his face. He nodded his head for Sala to come join him, and the Vato walked off; cursing bellow his breath.

“Thanks…”, Nina muttered. Angel looked down at her. “Ain’t nothing to thank me over”, he said. “He’s just marking his claim”, Happy said. Nina frowned. “Are you gonna pee on me next?”, she grunted. Angel winced. “Don’t tell me you’re in to that shit…”, he said. “That’s nasty”. Happy laughed, and patted Angel’s shoulder; before walking over to join Quinn at a card-game he had going on.

Nina pulled out of Angel’s grasp, and went to fill the fridge. He came up behind her, and grabbed her hips; kissing the back of her neck. “You know you’re not the only one here to do this shit, right?”. “Just keeping busy”, she muttered. “It’s a party. Try to have some fun", he said. “I have to finish this…”. “You have to look like you’re enjoying yourself". He turned her around, and pushed a lock of hair out of her face. “You’re tense as fuck…”. She sighed deeply, and put her forehead against his chest. Angel waved for a female hangaround to come take over; before taking Nina’s hand, and pulling her with him, to go sit on the steps to the porch.

By the looks of it, everyone around them were having fun, but Nina found it hard to get into a partying spirit. She looked over at a table by the garage, where Bishop was deep in conversation with Filip. Palo came over to join them. They all nodded at each other, and the conversation continued with the VM president adding his inputs. Angel noticed Nina looking at them. “You afraid?”, he asked. “Only as much as the next possible murder-victim”, she muttered. He put an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. His other hand went to her knee, and he let his fingertips draw small circles on the inside of it. “I know something that might relax you…”. She began to feel her cheeks burning, and bit her lip. “What’s that?”, she asked. He squeezed her thigh, and put his soft lips to her ear. “Watching me fuck up Creeper in that cage…”, he smiled. Nina let out a wanton sigh. “God, yes…”, she breathed.

Angel chuckled, and got up; giving her a hand to stand up herself. “Creep!”, he called out to the other Mayan. His tongue was down the throat of the red-head Coco had had some trouble getting rid of the week before. He pulled back, and looked at Angel. “What, brother?”, he asked. “It’s time”, Angel replied. Creeper gave the ginger one last kiss, and made his way to the cage. Angel went in the same direction, his arm around Nina’s waist.

---

A crowd gathered around the cage, as Angel and Creeper got their hands taped up. Nina let herself be mesmerized by the sight of her bare-chested champion, who was already jittery with adrenaline. Once Riz had finished with his hands, Angel went over, and grabbed the back of her neck; pressing his lips to hers. His kiss was deep and greedy, and he had no shame in pressing his groin against her in front of the crowd. His tongue danced against hers, and he let out a wanton grunt. “Let me just take care of this motherfucker, and then we can go somewhere and finish this”, he said against her lips; and stepped away from her. Nina was surprised her knees were still carrying her, and she felt lightheaded from all of her blood running to her groin.

Once inside the cage, Angel and Creeper circled each other like two lions, until Riz called out for them to begin. Angel flew forwards at the flash of an eye, and slammed his fist into Creeper’s face. Creeper fell backwards, and covered his mouth. Letting Angel think he was disoriented, he stumbled forwards again, and jabbed Angel in the ribs. Nina gasped at the sound, and her heart skip several beats, until Angel straightened back up, and put his arm around Creeper’s neck; continuously jabbing at his sternum. Breaking free, Creeper managed to get a hit in to Angel’s head.

As the fighting continued, Nina was caught off guard, when Palo appeared next to her. He handed her a beer. “As an apology… for my enforcer’s behavior”, he said. “Thank you”, she croaked. Palo gave her a half smile. “I’m just trying to keep him out of that cage…”, he said, and looked towards the two fighters. Angel had Creeper in a headlock. Nina chuckled nervously. “He’s strong… Your man”, Palo said. “Is he doing that for you?”. “I guess…”, Nina said, trying to avoid letting her voice shake too much. Angel looked up at her with a smile; but when he saw Palo, his eyes went cold. Creeper began tapping his arm, to forfeit; but Angel didn’t seem to notice, and only held on harder. Nina’s eyes widened in fear. “Angel! He’s tapping out, man!”, Riz called out. Angel was pulled out of his trance, and immediately let go of Creeper, who fell forwards, gasping for air. “I’ll leave you to it”, Palo said, and walked away.

Riz proclaimed Angel the winner, and he and Creeper hugged. They walked out of the cage together, and came over to Nina. “Are we good, Nina?”, Creeper panted. “Yeah. We’re good, Creep”, she said with a slight smile, and stepped forwards to pat his shoulder. Creeper winced at the touch, blew out a deep breath, and let himself be led away by the readhead, to be pampered.

Angel looked in the direction Palo had gone. “Everything ok?”, he asked. “Yeah, I think so”, Nina muttered. “He was apologizing for that thing from before, with that Vato”. “Huh”, Angel said, before turning to accept a towel from Riz. He had a small cut over his eyebrow, and his ribs were bruised. Nina stroked her fingertips over the mark, and Angel winced a bit. “Are you ok?”, she asked. “I’m good, querida. Don’t worry about it”, Angel replied, and kissed her temple. The scent of his adrenaline-fused sweat and his cologne hit Nina’s nose then, and she let out a soft moan. He smirked down at her. “Who’s the horny little shit, now…? Got something you need, cuervo?”. She bit her lip to keep from grinning, and got on her toes to kiss him deeply; making it very obvious what, in fact, she needed. Angel grabbed his shirt and his cut, and put his arm around her, letting his hand rest on her bottom; before leading her towards the trailer.

They were halted in their tracks, by a whistle. “That was some stellar fighting, brother”, someone called out to them in a Scottish drawl. Nina groaned, and looked over her shoulder disgruntledly at Filip; who was nursing a bottle of Jameson with Tig, Bishop, Sala, and Palo. “Thanks, man”, Angel replied. “Have a seat”, Filip said, and gestured for a chair next to him. Angel shot him a displeased smile, and led Nina over to the group. In spite of her disappointed expression, he put on his shirt and cut again; and sat down next to Filip. Tig smirked at Nina. “Aw, looks like we ran out of chairs. I got a lap right here for you, sweetheart…”. He patted his thighs, his eyes full of mischief. “I have a feeling you’re a dirty old man”, Nina replied, and raised a knowing brow at Tig. “You don’t know the half of it”, he said, and reached out his hand to shake hers. She did actually know much more than she wanted to, but held her tongue. Tig was as dirty as they came, but since hooking up with Venus a few years back, he’d mended his ways somewhat. “Tig Trager”, he introduced himself; keeping up the ruse of not knowing who she was. “And you are?”. “Not interested”, Angel said, and pulled Nina down to sit on his lap.

“You want to be careful with this one, mano”, Sala said. “He’s possessive of his girl”. “Good”, Filip said. “A man should take care of his woman”. Angel nodded shortly at him, and wrapped his arms around Nina’s waist, as she sat sideways on his thighs. Planting a soft kiss on her shoulder, he then accepted a beer from a passing hangaround. Nina looked up at her, and saw that it was Daniella; a fake smile plastered over her face. “Anything for you?”, she asked Nina. “Scotch…”, she replied. “That, I can help with”, Filip said, and got a glass from the table, filling it, and handing it to Nina. “Chibs Telford”, he said. Nina nodded, and took the glass. Daniella had an ugly sneer on her face for a second, before leaving them to it; giving Sala a view of her butt as she passed him. “Mami, get me another cold one”, he said. “Coming right up”, Daniella smiled at him, and moved towards the bar.

Bishop cleared his throat. “Palo was just telling us about a situation up north”, he said. Nina focused on running her nails through Angel’s hair. She was there as arm candy, not to listen; and she needed to keep up her ruse. “Business?”, Angel asked. “Yes… for you”, Palo said. “For me, it’s personal”. “Never good to mix the two”, Filip said. “Maybe not; but in this case, I’m willing to make an exception”, Palo grunted. “Esto se trata de la familia. I know Alvarez is your primo, Obispo; but I don’t trust him and Oakland with this anymore”. There was a pregnant silence, before Bishop spoke again. “As far as I know, Marcus is keeping his end of your deal. He’s been reaching out to all our charters, to find this woman…”. “This whore, shot my cousin down in cold blood!”, Palo growled. “Then she left him behind in a dirty alley to die alone. I want her dead!”.

A shudder went through Nina’s body. “Are you cold?”, Angel asked, trying to cover for her. She shrugged and nodded; and Angel pulled her closer to his chest. He put his lips to her ear, as if he was kissing her. “Breathe, querida”, he whispered, and squeezed her thigh gently; before taking a sip of his beer. “Didn’t she shoot him in the head?”, he said to Palo. Nina’s heart skipped several beats. “What are you saying?”, Bishop asked, his voice warning in its tone. Angel shrugged. “Just that if she shot him in the head…”. He pointed at his temple. “… he was probably dead the second the bullet hit… So, it’s not like he bled out alone on the ground…”. Nina wanted to scream; please shut your himbo mouth!; but, once again, held her tongue. “How does that change the situation?”, Sala asked. “Whoever shot him, didn’t want him to suffer… They were probably just trying to save themselves… Your cousin had reputation of being a bit rough with his women, is what I heard”, Angel replied. Nina hadn’t heard about this before, and was beginning to wonder if Angel had been asking around about Gael, to help her in some way. “Or mug him”, Palo said, obviously indifferent to his cousin’s reputation with women. This seemed odd to Nina, after how he’d handled her situation with Sala.

“Was anything stolen?”, Filip asked. Something cold ghosted Palo’s face, making him even more terrifying. “No… Nothing seemed to be missing from his body”, he said. “The puta did leave something behind, though”, Sala said. He grabbed the beer Daniella sauntered over to give him, before running his hand up her thigh. She smiled sweetly at him, taking it as her que to take a seat on his lap. He took a sip of his beer, and looked down her cleavage; seemingly satisfied with his catch of the evening, now that he couldn’t have Nina. “An inhaler…”, Palo said. “Was there a name on it?”, Tig asked. “No… But we know she used a .38”. “Those are some pretty weak leads”, Filip said. “Perhaps. But it’s something. And I’m going to use it to track her down… With your help”.

“What is it you want us to do? This happened in northern Cali", Bishop said. “I suspect she’s moving towards the border, trying to get across somehow, to avoid police investigation", Palo said. “As I understand it, your charter has been known to find ways to cross over with goods, without suspicion from authorities”. “What are you trying to say? That we helped her cross, in spite if your deal with El Padrino?”, Bishop said. “My deal is with Oakland", Palo said. “Different charter, same club", Tig said. “From our experience, Mayans are loyal to their brother-charters deals. They back each other". Palo looked at him with a scowl. “Maybe so…”. He turned his head towards Bishop. “I meant no disrespect. I am sure you back your brothers up north. “The same brothers you are saying you don’t trust", Bishop said. “That’s disrespect in itself".

Palo folded his hands, and smiled congenially. “Maybe we can rebuild that trust right now".

---