#why we gotta put two bad bitches against each other? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caashmoneynae · 6 months

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F&MU.

DENZEL WASHINGTON x @thatone-girly 🤎

SUMMARY: in which Bianca and Denzel have been at each other's throats since their sloppy breakup in college and their friends force them to talk it out. ✨

❦

"...𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 𝗘𝗫𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗪𝗘 𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡' 𝗕𝗢𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗬'𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥. 𝗬'𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗠𝗡 𝗠𝗨𝗖𝗛." Naomi declared as Bianca heard the frustration in her voice and slightly rolled her eyes.

"so, why y'all asses ain't avoid doin' that tonight? now i gotta' sit in ya living room with him there." Bianca huffed, adjusting her breasts in her baby blue romper, as her face held a mean mug at the thought of having to be in the same room with her ex-boyfriend Denzel for the whole night.

Bianca and Denzel were apart of a friend group of six — three girls and three boys, including themselves — that was created when they were in college, and that's how they ended up dating. the couple was thriving and so was their friend group, but there was one day in their senior year of college that the relationship came crashing down due to several rumors of infidelity.

though there was never any proof that Denzel was unfaithful, the street-talk caused an explosive argument between him and Bianca, and she left him that same day. no matter how much Denzel tried to persuade her that the rumors were false, she had already made up her mind that they were true since multiple women had told her similar stories, and this added fuel to the fire because Denzel called her gullible and stubborn because of how easy she believed those women.

Naomi and Antonio sided with Denzel and told Bianca that she shouldn't believe all the gossip she hears in the streets because there's no telling what's true and what's false while Cassandra told Bianca she was right to break up with him and Elijah told Denzel them breaking up was "for the best."

that catastrophe was two years ago, and Denzel and Bianca have been at each other's throats ever since.

their arguing got so bad that their friend group refused to invite the both of them to the outings they'd have. either Denzel would go or Bianca would, but they'd never invite the both of them to the same event because they didn't want to hear their constant bickering about bullshit that happened in college.

however, they decided to discard that rule for tonight and invited both of them to game night at Naomi's house, which Bianca was strongly against and she was sure Denzel was too. despite her strong disinterest in being in the same room as Denzel, Bianca decided to put her pride to the side and accepted the invitation, which she was sure she'd ended up regretting.

"we did it because y'all gettin' too damn old to still be stuck on shit that happened in college. how we gon' thrive as a friend group and y'all always arguin' 'cause y'all still stuck on old shit?" Naomi retorted as Bianca fastened her 'B' necklace around her neck and let out humorless chuckle.

"bitch shouldn't have cheated on me." Bianca shrugged, grabbing her perfume bottle, as she began to spray herself with the vanilla fragrance and Naomi smacked her lips before groaning in annoyance.

"Bianca, you don't even have proof that he cheated! you keep goin' off that "he said, she said" shit and that's exactly why y'all can't let bygones be bygones!" Naomi exclaimed as Bianca shrugged her shoulders as if the woman could see her and placed her top on her perfume bottle before turning the lights off in her bathroom and grabbing her house phone.

"whatever, Mi'Mi. i'm 'bout to leave, i'll see you in a few minutes."

—

"uno, uno out, motherfuckas'!" Elijah exclaimed, aggressively slamming down his last two Uno cards, as Noami smacked her lips, Bianca narrowed her eyes at him, Cassandra side-eyed him, and Denzel and Antonio looked at each other before looking at Elijah.

"man, you cheated, run that shit back!" Antonio exclaimed, causing Denzel to agree with him, as the entire group began to argue that Elijah cheated and Bianca looked at Denzel, slightly narrowing her eyes at him due to him agreeing with Antonio.

"you would know sum' about cheating, huh, Denzel?" Bianca's petty question made the room go eerily silent, and the group held different reactions upon their faces while Denzel stared at Bianca with a mug, making her raise a brow.

"i wish you would let that shit go."

"and i wish you would own up to it!"

after Bianca's retort, the two ex-lovers began to argue for the millionth time tonight, and their friends were now sick of it. Naomi facepalmed herself, Cassandra covered her ears, Antonio rested his hand against his chin and shut his eyes, and Elijah looked between the two nonchalantly while he let out a dramatic yawn. at this point, what was the point of even continuing to bicker? what ever happened has already happened and there was no point in continuing to bring it up, but Bianca was too stubborn to let it go.

she could be on her deathbed and she'd still be talking about that same situation.

"oh, my God, shut the hell up!" Naomi snapped, causing the room to go silent, as she stood up from the floor, "i'm so sick of y'all arguin' about this same bullshit! whatever he did, whether he cheated or not, is in the past! you can't change it! so stop arguin' and let it go!"

"i'm wit' Mi'Mi on this one," Antonio added, standing up as well, "y'all needa' learn how to stop bickerin' and talk like adults, yo. this shit gettin' old and it's gettin' old hella' quick."

Cassandra and Elijah stood up in silence, making brief eye contact with each other while Naomi grabbed her purse and Antonio grabbed his keys.

"we 'bout to go load up on more snacks. when we come back, you two motherfuckas' better have made up or i swear to God i'm sendin' both of y'all home. you act like children, you get treated like children." Naomi spat, looking between the two with a slightly clenched jaw, as she narrowed her eyes at them before walking away, opening the front door and letting everyone else walk out before slamming it behind her.

the room remained silent as the two looked at the door before looking at each other, a mug gradually creeping onto Bianca's face while she stood up from the floor.

"as much as you might not wanna admit it, Bianca, she's right. eventually, we gon' have to talk about this shit like adults." Denzel spoke, getting up from the floor, as Bianca chuckled and shook her head, already finished with the conversation while she walked into Naomi's kitchen to get something to drink.

"no, what you need to do is admit what you did and then we'll move past it." Bianca shrugged, opening the fridge, as she grabbed her leftover water bottle and closed the fridge, keeping her back toward the doorway because she knew he was standing there.

"why the hell would i admit to somethin' i ain't do?" Denzel retorted, his face scrunching up, as Bianca took a sip of her water and swallowed it, feeling the cool temperature run through her while she chuckled and twisted the cap back onto the bottle.

"after all these years and you still lyin'..." Bianca chuckled bitterly, aggressively slamming the bottle on the countertop, as she turned around and glared at him, "the fuck is it gon' take for you to admit you were unfaithful, Denzel? huh?—"

"no, what the fuck is it gon' take for you to believe the truth and realize that i didn't fuckin' cheat on you?! i'm so sick of havin' to argue with you about this old ass shit—"

"and i'm so sick of you sittin' in my face and lyin' to me! and even after Cassandra told me she saw you with that bitch at that party, you still won't admit to it—"

"wait, wait, wait," Denzel paused, chuckling, as he held up his index finger and looked down at the ground before looking back up at Bianca and pointing his index finger at her, "you mean the Cassandra that you're friends with? the Cassandra that tried to get with me behind your back? the Cassandra that admitted to me that she didn't like you because you were dating me?"

"the fuck are you..." Bianca paused, the dots slowly but surely connecting in her head, as Bianca's brows raised and she let out a laugh in amusement, "no wonder she stopped me from going upstairs so fast..."

❦

TLC's "Ain't 2 Proud 2 Beg" blared into the packed room as Bianca maneuvered through the room full of young adults, her eyes scanning the crowd to see if she knew anybody that were there. it had been about 15 minutes since Bianca arrived and she couldn't find Denzel anywhere, which confused her because he told her that he'd be there. she had been wondering around for the past 5 minutes trying to find him, and the rest of their friends, but she hadn't found anybody so far.

"IF I NEED IN THE MORNIN' OR THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT..." Bianca lowly sang to herself, slightly nodding her head to the rhythm of the song, as her eyes landed on Naomi who stood in the kitchen by the counter.

walking into the kitchen, Naomi's eyes locked on her almost immediately and she smiled as she handed her a red solo cup that had Crown Royal mixed with Coca-Cola in it, which was Bianca's favorite.

"hey, Bi'Bi, i was lookin' for you! i thought you and Denzel would come at the same time," Naomi smiled as Bianca looked at the cup and looked at Naomi with a raised brow, making her laugh, "bitch, it's Crown Royal and Coke. i made sure to make it when i first got here to save it for you and to keep it in my hands so nobody would do anything to it."

"aww, you know me so well. thank you, sweet thing," Bianca cooed, grabbing the cup, as she took a sip from it and Naomi laughed while she took a sip from her own cup as well, "speaking of Denzel, do you know where he is? 'cause i can't find him and he ain't pickin' up my calls."

meanwhile, upstairs in a bedroom stood a barricaded Denzel and a psychotic Cassandra who refused to let him leave the room. she stood by the door, which was locked, and glared at Denzel with irritated yet sensual eyes, which only increased the need Denzel felt to find a way to leave the room.

Lord knows if Bianca were to walk in on them, it would be a mess to try to explain.

"just admit it, Denzel. i'm better than Bianca and you know it. she could never do the things that i can do for you, baby," Cassandra flirted, making Denzel cringe, as she took a step towards him and Denzel took a step backward, "if only the bitch would move out my spot... then i'd get to have you for-real."

"that's how you refer to your friend? and this is how you repay her after all she's done for you? you a sick motherfucka'." Denzel scoffed, shaking his head, as Cassandra chuckled mischievously and walked towards Denzel, causing him to back into a wall while she stood in front of him.

"fuck that bitch, she ain't my friend. she's an obstacle that i can't fuckin' get passed," Cassandra retorted, a sly smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth, as she trailed her index finger down Denzel's chest, "c'mon, baby, why you playin' so hard to get? you know you want me just as much as i want to, ain't nothin' stoppin' us."

"ain't nobody fuckin' playin' with you, Cassandra!" Denzel exclaimed, slapping her hand away from him while he aggressively pushed her back, "and stop fuckin' touchin' me! look, i know who i want and i know who i love. Bianca is my everything and more and i'm not gon' let a sleazy slut like you disrespect her or ruin my relationship with her just because you wanna go behind her back and be a fake bitch."

Cassandra glared at him as her hands balled up into fists at her sides, her eyes slightly darkening in anger while her eyes narrowed at him. an indescribable glint shined in her eyes and an unreadable smirk crossed her face as she let out a soft humorless chuckle, "i'ma make you regret this shit, Denzel."

Denzel stared at the woman in confusion and slight fear as he watched her leave the room, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding in while he ran his hands down his face.

simultaneously, Bianca and Naomi stood downstairs as they sang and danced to "Temptations" by 2Pac, which just so happened to be Naomi's favorite song.

"I KNOWWW YOU BEEN SEARCHIN' FOR SOMEONEEE, TO MAKE YOU HAPPY AND GET THE JOB DONEEE!" Naomi and Bianca sung together as Bianca giggled and took a sip of her liquor, swallowing the cold liquid while she suddenly felt the urge to urinate.

"Mi'Mi, where's the bathroom?! i gotta' piss!" Bianca yelled to Naomi over the music as Naomi looked over at her and continued to move her body to the song.

"there's one upstairs, boo! the one down here is occupied!" Naomi yelled back as Bianca nodded her head and handed her the cup in her hands.

"hold my cup real quick!"

Bianca walked out of the kitchen and headed towards the staircase as she pushed her silk-pressed hair behind her ear, making her way through the crowd and about to go up a stair before bumping into someone.

"aw, shit, my bad—" Bianca paused as she looked up and locked eyes with Cassandra, making her smile, "oh, hey, my Cassie baby! i haven't seen you all night!"

"hey, B! uh, where you about to go?" Cassandra asked, smiling at her, as her palms started to slightly sweat.

"upstairs to—"

"no!" Cassandra abruptly cut her off, making Bianca's brows slightly furrow in confusion, as Cassandra let out a soft sigh and grabbed Bianca's hand, "Bianca, there's somethin' i gotta' tell you..."

❦

"she told me she saw you upstairs with Alaisha... i didn't wanna believe her at first, but then i seen you and her come downstairs at the same time and i didn't know what to believe anymore," Bianca explained, looking down at the ground, as the dots completely connected in her head and her eyes slightly widened while she looked up at Denzel and sighed, "oh, my God... Denzel, i'm so sorry. after all these years... fuck, i should've believed you."

"c'mere," Denzel spoke softly, holding out his arms, as Bianca walked over to him and embraced him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest while he gently rocked hem back and forth, "don't feel guilty for that, alright? if i was in your shoes, i would've reacted the same way. i'm just glad i could finally open your eyes and make you realize that i never wronged you."

"baby... they plotted on us," Bianca mumbled, making Denzel's brows furrow in confusion, as Bianca raised her head from his chest and looked up at him, "Cassandra and Elijah. they planned that whole fuckin' thing..."

❦

ONE WEEK LATER.

hearing knocks at her dorm room door, Bianca wiped a stray tear from her cheek and sniffled softly as she walked to the door and opened it, revealing Elijah who had a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"wassup, B. i heard about what happened between you and Denzel, so i decided to buy you these. i hope you doin' good." Elijah smiled, holding out the flowers to Bianca, as Bianca smiled softly and grabbed the bouquet from him.

"thank you, 'Lijah. and i could be better, but i'ma be alright," Bianca smiled softly, stepping to the side and allowing him inside, "Naomi went with 'Tonio to buy us some movie tickets for tonight, that's why she's not here."

"oh, that's cool, that's cool... you talked to Denzel at all?" Elijah asked, making Bianca scoff, as she sat the flowers on her bedside table and sat down on her bed while Elijah followed her and sat next to her.

"i don't wanna talk to him. he's been tryna' contact me since that party, but i refuse to speak to him. i'll talk to him when i'm ready." Bianca explained, shrugging, as Elijah nodded his head and ran his tongue over his lips while he looked at her.

"i'm sorry you goin' through this, B. fo'real. if you was mine, you'd never have to deal with no bullshit like this." Elijah spoke, grabbing her hand, as he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb and Bianca's brows lightly furrowed, his words going in one ear and out the other while she looked down at their connected hands.

"...huh?" Bianca questioned, looking up at Elijah, as Elijah had a look in his eyes that Bianca couldn't describe and it sent chills down her spine.

"you too pretty to deal with bullshit from these niggas, ma. let me change that for you. let me treat you the way you should be treated." Elijah flirted, his other hand gently grabbing her chin, as Bianca's face held a look of confusion since his words hadn't fully registered yet and Elijah leaned in slowly, attempting to kiss her before Bianca quickly pulled away from his grasp and slapped him due to her sharp reflexes.

"Elijah, what the fuck is wrong with you?! you see me being vulnerable and you try to take advantage of that and sleep with me when you supposed to be my friend?! i'm not no easy bitch and you should know that!" Bianca shouted, hopping up from her bed, as she grabbed the bouquet from her bedside table and threw it into Elijah's lap, "take them cheap ass fake flowers and get the fuck out my room!"

Elijah's jaw clenched as he looked at her and he chuckled under his breath while he grabbed the bouquet from his lap and headed towards the door, opening it and walking out while Bianca slammed and locked it behind him.

"the fuckin' nerve of him to come in my room on some bullshit..." Bianca scoffed lowly, shaking her head, as she let out a sigh and pushed her hair out of her face.

as if on cue with Bianca's door closing, Cassandra's dorm room door opened and she grabbed Elijah by his wrist and pulled him into her room, closing the door behind her while she looked up at him.

"so? what happened?" Cassandra asked, raising her brow, as Elijah chuckled humorlessly and threw the bouquet on the ground.

"the bitch ain't go for it. she still stuck onnat' Denzel nigga." Elijah mugged, sitting down on Cassandra's bed, as Cassandra groaned and facepalmed herself.

"Eli', you had one job—"

"man, fuck all'at. you told me to go over there and try to seduce her so you can get with Denzel. you act like i want her fo'real, i only did this shit for you!" Elijah exclaimed as Cassandra laughed in amusement.

"nigga, don't sit in my face and lie, we both know you like Bianca! i see the way you look at her when you think we not payin' attention!" Cassandra exclaimed as Elijah went quiet and Cassandra shook her head, walking over to the male and sitting down beside him, "look, i'ma get Denzel and you gon' get Bianca. we just gotta' keep tryin', alright?"

"i guess..."

❦

"Bianca..." Denzel paused, hearing the front doorknob jiggle, as he looked towards the door and Bianca looked towards it as well, making them realize that the four were back from the store.

"hellooo, we back! y'all made up yet?" Naomi called as she walked in and the other followed behind her, a smile on her face once she saw Bianca and Denzel hugging at the doorway of the kitchen, "see, i told y'all are y'all needed to do was talk it out.—"

"you bitch!" Bianca shouted, her eyes locking on Cassandra, as she snatched away from Denzel's grasp and charged toward her, making Naomi's eyes slightly widen while she quickly shielded Cassandra and held Bianca back.

"woah, woah, woah, what the hell's goin' on?" Naomi exclaimed, her brows furrowing, as she secured her arms around her best friend.

"why don't you ask those home-wrecking bitches behind you?!" Bianca exclaimed, yanking away from Naomi's grasp, as Naomi and Antonio looked at Cassandra and Elijah and Cassandra and Elijah looked at them before Cassandra looked at Bianca.

"Bi'Bi, what the fuck are you—"

"don't you dare fuckin' call me that shit when you tried to fuck on my nigga behind my back!" Bianca shouted, pointing her index finger at her, as Naomi's brows furrowed and she looked at a now nervous Cassandra before her eyes averted to an angry Bianca.

"okay, Bianca, just calm down and explain to me and 'Tonio what's going on, alright? we listenin', mama." Naomi assured, rubbing her shoulder, as Bianca inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out through her mouth.

"do you remember what happened that night we were at that house party and Cassandra said she saw Denzel and Alaisha upstairs in a bedroom together?" Bianca asked, looking between Naomi and Antonio, as the both of them nodded their heads and Antonio motioned for her to continue, "she fuckin' lied! she was the one in the bedroom with Denzel and she was tryna' get him to cheat on me! and she was up there talkin' all kinds of shit about me when she's supposed to be my friend! Alaisha was only up there because she was in the fuckin' bathroom!"

"and you," Denzel chimed in, pointing at Elijah, as he walked towards the group and Antonio immediately went to hold him back, "you went to her dorm room tryna' fuck on her with some funky ass flowers and even tried to kiss her! but you 'posed to be our friend, right? nigga, you ain't shit! you just as sleazy as that bitch!"

"you one foul ass bitch, Cassandra," Naomi scoffed, looking back at her, "i had heard rumors around campus that you used to fuck other girls's boyfriends, but never did i think you'd go as far as to try to fuck yo' own friend's man. that's exactly why i never had any of my niggas around you, i knew you couldn't be trusted."

"and this nigga here thought he was slicker than a muh'fuckin' snail with how he used to eye down Bianca and thought nobody noticed it," Antonio added, looking at Elijah in disgust, "man, both of y'all muh'fuckas' ain't shit, y'all belong together. and after all these years, y'all still the same foul ass muh'fuckas' from college. that shit crazy."

Cassandra parted her lips to speak but was cut off by Bianca punching her in the mouth, causing her to stumble and fall back against Naomi's door before she tripped over her own foot and fell to the ground, her body hitting the floor with a loud thud while Naomi pursed her lips together and Antonio hissed.

"you'll never get to know what it's like to be with my man, bitch. i should do some more damage to you, but i feel like that punch did enough to yo' ho ass," Bianca mugged, spitting on her, as Bianca looked over at Elijah and slapped him harshly, making him grunt while he held his face, "and fuck you, Elijah, you faker than this bitch on the floor. you'll never fuck me or date me, let that shit go."

"i'm out this bitch," Bianca grumbled, snatching her purse off of Naomi's coatrack, as she kicked Cassandra's body out of the way, resulting in a loud yelp from her, and yanked open the front door, "goodnight, y'all."

—

"Mi'Mi, i'm fine, i swear. i'm still a lil' agitated, but i'm good," Bianca assured, opening her refrigerator and searching for a bottle of water, "that bath did me some good anyway, it was so relaxing."

"i'm just checkin', girl, you know you got a temper on ya," Naomi chuckled as Bianca chuckled with her and grabbed a water bottle out of her fridge while she nudged it closed with her hip, "when you left, 'Tonio had to hold Denzel back from whuppin' Elijah's ass. it was the funniest thing ever 'cause Elijah was still dazed off of that slap you gave him."

"nigga shouldn't have been tryna' be sneaky. they say "what's done in the dark will come to the light", so i'on know why either of them tried to play me like that. man, i hate sluts, fo'real." Bianca grouched, making Naomi laugh, as she twisted the cap off of her water bottle and placed the bottle up to her lips.

"well, you ain't gotta' deal with 'em no more 'cause they trifling asses are gone for good. i got me a few hits on Cassandra for you while you was gone, boo." Naomi spoke as Bianca sensed a smile on her face and swallowed the water in her mouth before laughing.

"i just know you smilin' hard as hell right now," Bianca laughed as Naomi laughed with her and Bianca shook her head while she twisted the cap back onto her bottle, "i just hope i never see that bitch again 'cause if i see her in public, i'ma—"

Bianca was interrupted by knocking at her door, making her glance over at it while she opened her fridge and sat the water bottle back inside before shutting it.

"Mi'Mi, i gotta' go, somebody's at the door." Bianca announced, slightly tightening the silk robe on her naked her body, as she adjusted her feet in her house slippers before walking towards the phone receiver in the living room.

"it's 'bout time for me to start cleanin' up and take my ass to bed anyway. goodnight, Bi'Bi."

"goodnight, boo."

the call ended after Bianca's statement and she sat the house phone down on its receiver as she making her way to the front door, adjusting her robe and looking down at it once more before unlocking and opening the door. looking up at the person who knocked on her door, Bianca slightly froze in place once her eyes locked on Denzel and realized he was the one who was at her door.

Denzel parted his lips to speak but no words exited his mouth as Bianca swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped to the side, allowing him to come inside while he walked into her home and Bianca closed and locked the door behind him.

"Bianca... i—" Denzel was cut off by Bianca smashing her lips onto his, catching him off guard but he returned the kiss as quickly as it was given to him.

the kiss was full of love and passion and Bianca wrapped her arms around Denzel's neck as Denzel's arms rested around her waist, her fingertips gently caressing the nape of his neck while he rubbed her lower back.

after all these years of arguing and bickering over a lie and a simple misunderstanding, Bianca was finally able to be honest and let the facade that she didn't care about him die. she still loved him with everything in her, and that's why they constantly butted heads every time they were around each other. Denzel still loved her and frankly, he never stopped, but now that Bianca knew the truth, he knew that they had lots of making up to do.

And that process of making-up would start tonight.

#90s #90s icons #90s men #x black fem reader #x black reader #black girl beauty #denzel washington #spotify #one shot #request #black stories #black culture #black community #black love #black people #exes to lovers

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sabraeal · 10 months

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Get On and Move Your Body

[Read on AO3]

Written for the irreplaceable (and irrepressible) @bubblesthemonsterartist, who officially becomes OLD(er than me) today! As she already has a few more golden tickets to keep me putting chapters on her favorite niche AU this year, she elected to instead ask for another piece of what we like to call the “Secret Subplot” in WFB. Which means...more Six Flags shenanigans >:3c

For as much as Chief’s planned this whole trip down to the breath, trouble finds them not even minute out the door. Unlike every other SUV His Highness has been carted around in, Big Guy’s Mazda is a mid-size, only enough seats for four grown adults and one guy with the same dimensions as a piece of paper.

“Aw, c’mon, Boss,” Obi cajoles, leaning a hip against the hood. “What’s the problem? We all love each other.”

The problem is that it doesn’t match Romeo’s vision of tucking into the back row and making eyes at each other over the bench seat. But that’s not something he can say, not when Doc is already bouncing on her heels eager to go.

“There’s not enough room,” Chief grits out instead, glaring at him like he’s the one who made the specs. “There’s no way you can fit three people on that.”

Not without knocking elbows, sure. But Obi’s been in smaller places participating in more...athletic activities. “I dunno, some guy with an engineering degree sure thought you could.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Big Guy insists, like a person who’s never sat bitch in his life. “There’s lots of leg room back there!”

He and the Little Prince exchange looks. Both of them say, this man’s legs have never been anywhere behind the front row.

“We can take my car,” Obi floats; an imperfect solution, but since Danny Ocean here made an imperfect plan, it’s the best they got. “I just vacuumed it last week and everything.”

The correct answer here would be, wow, Obi, thanks, you’re a real one. Or maybe, I’ll name my firstborn after you. He’s not picky. But what he gets is a lip curl so aristocratic it would make guillotines in Paris salivate.

“Why would I go in that death trap?” he sneers, tossing it a gaze so scathing it nearly scratches the paint. “It’s got the same amount of seats.”

Same amount of seats, different driver. One that didn’t have a girlfriend to ride shotgun, which meant if Big Guy did some personal origami, he could fit himself there, and Princess could slide right into the back. And if they convinced Doc to be the cream in their golden oreo, well, maybe it wouldn’t be the pink-stained Wes Anderson aesthetic of pining, but at least his thigh would be all pressed up against hers. That would be like a whole ass base in their weird game of no-contact dating, wouldn’t it?

Alas, the bossguy doesn’t see his vision. So someone’s gotta take a dive.

“All right, all right.” Obi holds up his hands, all charming resignation. “Chief’s got a point. We can’t possibly all fit. So in the best interest of this whole posse, I will--”

Kiki grips his shoulder, hard enough to creak. “Don’t even try it.”

“A-ack!” he hiccups, knees weak under the pressure. “Miss Kiki, I was only trying to--”

“You have to come, Obi!” Oh, it’s not fair that Doc’s been pulled into this, all shining eyes and earnestly clasped hands. “There’s no point in going if we don’t all go!”

“Ah...” He scrapes a palm over the back of his neck, letting it settle over the ache in his shoulder. “Well, I suppose if you’re going to insist, Doc...”

Bossman’s sigh hisses through his teeth, the fight slipping right out of him. “So are we taking two cars, or...?”

It’s with a predator’s smile that Little Miss Shotgun slips past both of them, leaning right in to suggest, “I think you can just suck it up.”

His jaw drops. “But...ugh, fine. I call a window, though.”

Obi’s sure to be all smiles when Romeo throws himself into the rear seat, scowling.

“No problem at all, Chief.” He waits until bossman’s buckled, committed, before he turns all the potential energy stored up in his limbs to kinetic, springing into the bitch seat with a smile that can only be called unhinged. “I’ve always wanted to be an Obi sandwich.”

Chief’s always had the prettiest eyes, but they’ve never looked more beautiful than this, all wide and wild and ready to wrap his hands around his throat. “But-- you-- I-- Shirayuki--”

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind.” Obi reaches out, giving his knee a nice pat as Doc tucks herself in beside him. “I wasn’t loved enough as a child.”

“Now isn’t this nice,” Big Guy says with a glance in the rearview. “You three look so cozy!”

Chief’s mouth works, a half-dozen complaints circling the runway before fizzling out at the tip of his tongue. With one last sigh, he manages, “Ugh.”

“You know what I like about you, Chief?” He casts him a dreamy look, chin-in-palm and all. “Your eloquence.”

“Obi?” His name sounds so nice grit between Young Master’s teeth. “Go fuck yourself.”

It’s strange, not being the one with the plan. Not that Shirayuki doesn’t appreciate the effort! It’s just...

They’d barely left the roundabout of their driveway before Zen had pulled up a park map, reaching over Obi’s lap to show her that it’s a straight shot from the entrance to the comic themed area. It’s just a smattering of numbers and symbols to her, but it’s clear that for as flat as this map is on his phone, it’s a real place in his head, one he knows well enough to walk in his sleep.

Kiki, for her part, snubs every Dunkins until the last exit. As soon as they’re off the highway, she directs Mitsuhide into a small strip mall parking lot-- just seven shops with the Dunkins sandwiched in between, not even enough room for a drive-through-- and has him walk in with their order.

What’s the deal? Obi had laughed, taking a sip from his iced mocha. They put solid gold in these or something?

Her cup sat in the holder, steaming. Timing.

It’s already warm this morning, but the moment Zen and Kiki step out of the car they both take the first sips from their cups and sigh.

“Perfect,” he sighs, eyes fluttering open to fix on her. “How about you, Shirayuki?”

Her iced hot chocolate has already melted, forgotten after the first sip, and there’s no way she can politely explain that there’s something lost in translation when it comes to taste. So instead she settles for, “Good!”

“Great.” His whole face softens, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way she wishes she could touch, but-- but that’s not a good idea. Not when there’s people behind them in line taking pictures, and someone else with their phone out in the next line over, trying to get their barcodes on the screen. “Oh, here, I’m the one with the tickets, let me just--”

There’s too many people crushed close for him to comfortably shuffle through; even with Kiki and Mitsuhide stepping out of the way, he still has to stretch between them to reach the turnstile. The ticket taker-- er, guest service representative stares down at him, taking in the mirrored sunglasses and nondescript baseball cap, and a frown brews at the corners of her mouth.

“Ah, here, Boss.” Obi, close enough to rest his hip on the stile itself, plucks to phone out of his hand and offers one of his lop-sided smiles. “Sorry about that. There’s five of us.”

The gaze she sweeps up Obi is slower, dragging around his waist and again at his shoulders, but finally it settles right onto her reflection in his Aviators. It’s not quite a smile that she gives him, but there’s a definite lightness when she says, “I’m going to need you to flip through them.”

It’s nothing that should make her uncomfortable; Obi always jokes that he has a magnetism, that he really knows how to light a flame, and it’s not as if she doubted him, it’s just-- it’s strange to see it in action. To watch a complete stranger twirl her hair and lean close as she scans some barcodes, glancing up at him between each screen as if she’s hoping to catch his eye. And yet the only time he does is when she’s done, letting his smile pull a scooch wider as he says, “Thanks.”

Shirayuki doesn’t think she imagines the disappointment in the girl’s rote, “You can all go in now. Please enjoy your day at Six Flag’s New England.”

“Unbelievable,” Zen mutters as they walk out from under the turnstiles’ shade, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I smile and make nice, and she acts like I’m a felon. You go off and do the same thing and she practically trips over herself to help you.”

“What did I tell ya, Chief?” Obi lowers his Aviators to give him what Shirayuki can only call a saucy wink. “It’s the charisma. Raw animal--”

“It’s the height,” Kiki says with all the subtlety of smashed keys on a piano. “And the scar.”

Zen turns to him, assessing, and scowls. “You’re not that much taller than me.”

Obi’s all mirrored glass and teeth when he answers, “It’s not the size, Boss, it’s how you use it.”

“Three inches,” Kiki interjects, with all the interest of watching paint dry. “And Obi doesn’t skip his core workouts.”

“I’m not skipping, I’m just busy--”

“Don’t worry, Chief, she’s going to be kicking herself when she find out just which GQ motherfucker she snubbed in the ticket line--”

It’s not on purpose that Shirayuki lets them slip ahead; no, she simply gets to the welcome gate, a massive stretch of red brick and Greek columns that reminds her of nothing more than the State’s Pavilion at the Big E, and it hits her-- it’s been a long time since she’s been to a park like this.

She was supposed to go...two years ago now. The senior trip, an overnight to Dorney Park that had everyone buzzing about room assignments, about the last time they went in eighth grade, and ha ha, wasn’t a trip like this for kids? It hadn’t stopped them from getting excited, from spending every moment between periods making plans about which rides to go on, which times they might be able to sneak away and meet boyfriends on balconies or behind Staff Only signs.

Oma had already been sick, then. She’d been slipping between home and hospital every few months, and by March, it became weeks, the bills from previous stays stacking up on the sideboard. A trip to the other side of the state wouldn’t break the bank, but it was still money that they wouldn’t have, another hassle for Opa to handle. It’d been nothing to hide to permission form, to tear it to pieces the next time Opa was out of the house and bury it at the bottom of the kitchen trashcan. Two days in the school library had seemed a small price to pay to keep another worry off his plate. That’s what they did; look after each other.

Or rather, that was what Shirayuki thought they were supposed to be doing, anyway.

The school had been willing to take her even still; her homeroom teacher even taking her out of lunch the day before to explain they had a budget for situations like this, that she could still come and enjoy being a senior like everyone else in her class, but--

But she’d told them she got motion sick. A hard thing to argue with, so they left her alone instead. She’d been good at that. At getting people to look away. It helped that most people wanted to.

There’s a tap on her hand, long bone to long bone-- metacarpals, her textbook would say-- and it’s too firm to be a mistake. Not an accidental brush, but a solid reminder, and as she looks up into the furrow at Obi’s brow, she wonders where she lost the knack of going unseen. “You good, Doc?”

“Yeah.” It’s a struggle to bring her smile to the surface, to try to submerge those raw pieces of herself. “Just...been a while.”

Obi’s not one for extended eye contact outside of a threat, but when he looks at her now it’s like she’s made of puzzle pieces instead of physical features, trying to put them together in an expression that fits in the hard boundaries of her face. And then, with one slow blink, he turns away. Purposeful, even though he doesn’t once fall out of step beside her, and, oh-- he’s letting her compose herself. Letting her choose what she’d like him to see. “I get you.”

For the first time, Shirayuki’s beginning to suspect that might be true.

With a sigh, he adds, “Not long enough, though.”

There’s a small rise to get up to Main Street, and her feet stutter to a stop there, dying to ask why. In books the mysterious companion is always stoic, always silent, a fortress of secrets that no word escapes from. But Obi-- Obi never stops talking, to the point that she wonders when he breathes. And yet it’s never about himself, and she just-- she just wants to know him. To understand why somewhere designed down to the dishware to be one of the happiest places on earth makes his skin crawl. Why he chose to come here even when--

“Oh, there you are!”

Shirayuki can be the first to admit: she’s not paying attention. Even still, she gasps when Zen appears beside her, cupping a hand around her elbow. The cup becomes a catch, fingers latching firmly to tow her through the crowd. “Wait...”

“Come on.” He grins, all eagerness and excitement beneath polarized glass, and it’s infectious. “If we’re going to ride Superman, then we need to get there before the crowd.”

There’s no time to temper her expectations; the last time she walked into a park, it was with Oma on one side and Opa on the other, the buildings along the fairway towering over her, coasts nothing but a distant thunder rumbling deeper in the park, a monstrous set of snakes dueling just over the horizon. She’s taller now though, a grown adult, and for one breathless moment at the top of the hill, she wonders if it’s enough for time to have made places to make someplace like this small.

The worry lasts less than a blink; just a turn of the corner, and-- and--

Red tracks loom over the park, a bright blue car hurtling past with so much force behind it that the pavement rattles beneath her. It flies into a loop, screams trailing seconds behind, and oh, she doesn’t have to wonder why it’s called Superman when it’s got a rise like that, one big peak stretching high enough that the cart doesn’t so much ride up it as it is ratcheted up it, a click click clunk she can hear from the top of the stairs.

“We’re going on that?” The last coaster she went on was in the kiddie area, a little wooden thing that went click-clack beneath her sneakers and relied on centrifugal force to keep them in their seats. Still, it seems safer than this, five-point harnesses and all.

“It’s the biggest coaster in the park.” He hardly needs to tell her that; it’s heads and shoulders above every other ride in sight, save for the drop tower. “When you go down that peak, you experience the same amount of g forces as astronauts on reentry. More than any other coaster in the country until they built Kingda Ka.”

Obi lingers two steps back, hands hooked behind his head, and whistles. “Been studying up, eh, bossman?”

Kiki snorts, shouldering in beside him. “He sure knows a lot for someone’s whose last few experiences with coasters ended with--”

“I was fourteen,” Zen informs her primly. “And that wasn’t even a coaster, it was a tower, which is a much different motion that plenty of people have issues with, and--”

“Shouldn’t we work our way up to this?” Shirayuki would love to sound mild and casual, like she’s only thinking of the group, but instead she’s just...shrill. “Maybe start on, er, that one?”

She flings out an arm, pointing to the track that curls around Superman’s struts like a cat. It’s green, built so low to the ground that it almost disappears into the trees studding the course, and it’s not until everyone looks that she realizes small children are standing in the line to wait with their parents.

“Catwoman’s Whip?” Kiki cocks her head. “That’s a kiddie coaster.”

“And the line never gets that long,” Zen assures her, as if that’s some argument against it. “If you don’t hit Superman at the start of the day, you’ll have to wait hours in line for a single ride.”

“Oh...right.” She swallows, smoothing her palms over her skirt. “Of course. Then I guess...why not?”

“What’s the matter, Doc?” Obi slinks up beside her, all slants and angles. “Throwing yourself out a window is fine but somehow coasters give you cold feet?”

“N-no! It’s just--” there’s a difference between spur of the moment heroics and planning to throw herself from a dozen stories up for fun, and all of it has to do with anticipation “--really big.”

“Ahhh, right. And you’re tiny.” An unnecessary observation, in Shirayuki’s opinion, but with the way has to stoop to make his smile even with hers, she can’t really say it’s wrong. “You know, I can always hold your hand if you get scared, Doc. I’m long enough I could even be a human seat belt, if you--”

“Hey.” Zen’s arm swings down between them, cleaving a space for him to slide into. “I’m the one that’s going to be holding her hand, thank you very much. Ah, that is, er--” he glances at her, a sheepish blush blooming across the flat of his cheeks “--if you actually want to go. We really don’t have to, I just though--”

“No, no!” Her fingers knit through his, palms close enough to kiss. He’s just the right size for it to be the perfect fit. “Holding hands will be nice.”

The thing is: Obi doesn’t really do friends. Or at least, he didn’t. Sure, he’d had kids he hung around in school to pass the time, or other fighters he’d be friendly with until the moment money-- or their girlfriends-- got between them, but not...this. He wasn’t the kind of guy who got six am smoothies at Starbucks after a spar, or who worried about if their roommate would catch them skipping leg day, or who anyone would notice if he missed a meal.

But then Richie Rich pluck him right out of the trash, and suddenly he can’t escape it. Big Guy piling extra fancy ham into a perfectly golden sandwich melt. Princess hunting him down to drink beers on the roof. Bossman cornering him about the state of his resume. And Doc...

Well, it’d be easier to list what Doc didn’t do. So he doesn’t mind getting dragged to some theme park, and he’s determined not to mind being the odd one out. He’d known the score when he agreed to come, known how this would all shake out no matter how many times they told him, it’s not a date--

But they still separate out into pairs without a thought when the lines split for loading. Doc and Chief in one, Princess and Big Guy in the other. One glance at the diagram posted on the wall tells him all he needs to know: two seats to a row, two rows to a car. Best he can do is slip in to the one right behind them and shout across the gap.

The carts roll up, and none of them even give it a second thought as they slide in, two cozy couples with eyes only for each other. It’s cute. Objectively.

The operator scuffs up beside him, giving him one long, measuring look before she calls out, “Singleton here! We need one more!”

His teeth grit down, wincing as Doc looks back, guilt written in broad strokes across her face. He may not be able to hear her over the crowd, but he can see her mouth, “Obi doesn’t have a partner!”

God, being fifth wheel sucks. Good thing they’re worth it.

Doc wiggles in her seat, head swinging frantically from side to side, but it’s not until she glances back, distressed gaze fixed on him, that he realizes she’s looking for the release. That she’s actually going to climb back here and--

“There’s five of us,” Kiki informs her mildly, both close enough and loud enough to be heard. “No matter what we do, someone is sitting alone.”

“But...” Doc stills, and all right, Princess might be the reasonable one here, but Obi still wishes they were in the same car, if only so he could kick the back of her seat. “We promised...”

“Oh, I-- I don’t have one!” A girl breaks free from the group behind him, scurrying up to the operator. “Can I take it?”

Objectively, she’s hot. Tan skin, dark eyes, and long legs framed by even shorter shorts, just the kind of girl he would have taken back to his place after a fight and forgotten about by morning.

She slips in next him, smile nervous as she tells him, “Sorry, my friends are behind us. They’re gonna be--”

“Julie, he’s hot,” one hoots from two rows back. Another adds from right behind them, so helpful, “Get it!”

“--Loud,” she sighs, flushed. “Sorry again.”

“Don’t be.” In another life he’d be interested-- hell, he probably should be in this one-- but all he can think of is red hair and a sweet smile. “They seem fun. This your first time?”

She casts a wary look up the rise. “I’ve done coasters, but...”

He grins. “Well, if you gotta grab on to someone, you won’t break me.”

The look she turns on him is speculative, and, ah, he might not be interested, but something tells him the feeling isn’t mutual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After being flung around a track like a hamster in a wheel, Zen doesn’t expect to find the exit ramp the hardest bit. The shaking legs don’t help, of course, sending him careening into a wall with all the grace of a drunk gazelle, but one or two more breaths gets him steady. Lets him find his sea legs, as it were. Just...on land.

Whatever it is, he’s just glad that handful of dramamine worked. Last thing he needs is for Shirayuki to see him hurl into a trashcan for twenty minutes. Especially when he’s got a dozen coasters to get through today, and that’s just the good ones.

“Oh, my...” Shirayuki stumbles up next to him, leaning into his side like a crutch. “Wow.”

It take a second for him to calm himself enough to manage, “Did you have fun?”

She beams up at him, eyes shining and cheeks flushed, and oh, he’s glad he brought more of those pills in his pocket, because he’ll ride a hundred of these to keep her looking at him like that. “So much. Are there more?”

“A ton,” he assures her. Her smile only gets brighter as she braces herself against the rail.

“So, Catwoman’s Whip next?”

“No, no. That’s fast but there’s not much to it.” He chucks his chin out across the park, toward the general direction of South End. “We’re going all the way across the park. The Dark Knight.”

“When’s Mind Eraser?” Kiki leans over his shoulder, squinting at the map he’s pulled from his pocket. “That one’s good. Lots of loops.”

“Right after.” He points to the red track sandwiched between the Superman and Batman’s peaks. “It’s just around the corner once we’re off. Then I thought we might run across to Goliath, and--”

“Hey.” Mitsuhide frowns up the ramp, hands on his hips. “Have any of you seen Obi?”

Zen blinks, folding the map back into his pocket. “I thought he was right behind you guys.”

That thoughtful frown deepens. “He was. But then I turned around and--”

“There.” Kiki nods up to the land landing. “Fashionably late, I see.”

Obi glances up, tucking something in his pocket. “Yeah, I like to keep up the suspense. So chief, where to?”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #The Wide Florida Bay #my fic #modern au #college au #ans #okay caveat here if m&b is set in dec 2016 then this is like jul 2014 #and thus superman is actually the bizarro but like #i went for keeping the ride still there with their current names #because i know i love to guide myself with fics sometimes if i'm in areas where they take place #i actually HAVE a map from 2016 which i've been referring to and i feel like that's finnicky enough #we're sort of at the point where the years on this are a guideline rather than a rule since i am DEFINITELY not keeping track #of obi's meme usage and never will #SO IT IS WHAT IT IS #and i'm pretty sure no one will care but me but in case someone DOES #it's artistic license #also that dunkies is real and it is the perfect place to get your hot drinks #so you can finish them on the walk to the ticketing booths #we usually would go in october for the spooktacular and also for like. not being stupid hot reasons #and you gotta go EARLY if you wanna do rides #so we learned early and often where the perfect dunkins locations were #we have the same thing going to our state ren faire #it's a THING

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forabeatofadrum · 1 year

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Thank you @cerriddwenluna for the tag.

Rules: List your "top 10" (or up to 10 if you haven't written that many) fics ranked by kudos on AO3. Are you surprised by what's most popular to your readers? Then, under a cut, provide your ranking of your personal top 10 fics (with explanations if you want!), and then tag a few fellow writers!

I admit I didn’t know if I should do the top 10 for Glee fics only, since that’s the fandom we share, or all my fics, so, uh, I did both.

Top 10 According to Readers, Glee Edition:

Myosotis sylvatica (73,167 words) - 151

I’m still alive and I’m still getting love (20,782 words) - 149

Mendacious (27,179 words) - 136

All the pretty things that we could be (70,071 words) - 113

Everything changed (2,642 words) - 113

I really, really like you (1,575 words) - 107

I’d cry a river just for you (30,541 words) - 106

The Critic (5,322 words) - 92

Ik was meteen ondersteboven. (1,544 words) - 87

It's about time (19,183 words) - 81

I am not surprised about the first 4. I’m still alive is actually a Brittana fic and for a very long time it was indeed my most kudo’d Glee fic, which surprised me. I was aware of this because ironically that is the only fic that ever got a nasty comment, so it was kind of funny to me. “This is so stupid”, babe, people clearly don’t agree. Everything changed is also a crossover with Check, Please!, but I suppose it counts since it is still a Glee fic. Apart from that, all I can say is that I hoped River fic was a bit higher which leads to:

My Top 10 Glee fics:

I’d cry a river just for you (lol)

All the pretty things that we could be

Mysotis series (I always see the 5 parts as one whole, even though sylvatica is the main one)

Mendacious

Barking Up The Wrong Bakery

Ljubim te (yes, it is still a WIP)

Seven am

Anyway series (even though I haven’t reread that one in years)

It’s about time

aap noot mies

I guess it is kind of sad that I struggled with this list after no. 5 😬. Like, I literally sat here going “uhhhh.... aap noot mies, I guess? Kinda? Hmmm.”

There’s just a lot of older stuff that I don’t really remember. I’m sure they’re fine and that I will like them if I reread them. I only knew of two fics that I definitely did not want on the list, but most of the 68 fics are just kind of “in limbo”.

And also I gotta say that no. 1 to 4 kind of share a spot. Those are just my fave fics that I have written and I do not want to pit these bad bitches against each other but alas 😔. I put River fic on one because I feel like that one is the best in “technical” sense. All the pretty things was a fucking experience. So was Myosotis and I loved the universe I created for it. And Mendacious challenged me. If they are no. 1, then Bakery fic is no. 2 because it amused me so much.

Anyway, moving on...

Top 10 According to Readers, All of It:

Everything will be alright (Brooklyn Nine-Nine) (2,566 words) - 626

All shall know the wonder (Check Please!) (11,869 words) - 470

The last to know (Check Please!) (2,579 words) - 467

How lucky we are to be alive right now (Carry On) (1,625 words) - 414

Times are hard for dreamers (Check Please!) (4,595 words) - 285

A rip in time (Whoniverse) (67,972 words) - 249

Seal the darkness (Carry On) (3,396 words) - 247

The 2020 Young America New Year’s Eve Gala (Red White & Royal Blue) (2,819 words) - 238

Mr. Grimm-Pitch and Mr. Snow, In The Library, With a Snog (Carry On) (2,877 words) - 231

Feel on top of the world (Check Please!) (917 words) - 212

Okay. Woah. Good thing I split the categories because I genuinely had no idea Glee isn’t in my top 10. I am shook. Myosotis sylvatica is on no. 14! A Love, Victor fic has more kudos than my Glee fics. I didn’t even like Love, Victor which is why I wrote fix-its and missing scenes for it! Not gonna lie, this kind of saddens me. Or maybe sadden is too harsh. I don’t know. It makes me feel something. Glee is my main and my longest fandom (not counting Winx Club) (I will write that Winx Club/Glee crossover fic one day that is a threat) (to me).

I knew that the B99 was the most kudo’d because it accompanied a post that I made on Tumblr and that one also got a lot of notes. I’m happy All shall know the wonder is on no. 2 because I love that one. I am still so amused by people liking my Doctor Who clusterfuck. How lucky we are to be alive right now was my first Carry On fic and it definitely no longer represents how I write for this fandom, so the fact that it’s the most-well known (which I also knew) gives me mixed feelings because on one hand I look back on it with fondness in an “awww look at that wee baby” feeling, but on the other hand I’m like “please, read my later stuff”.

Speaking of the later stuff:

My Top 10 Non-Glee fics:

Paradiso series (Carry On)

All shall know the wonder (Check, Please!)

Time After Time (Carry On)

make a fire out of this flame (Carry On)

The Naked Truth (Carry On)

There’s nothing ironic about show choir (Carry On)

Times are hard for dreamers (Check, Please!)

My rose-coloured boy (Carry On)

The 2020 Young America New Year’s Eve Gala (Red, White & Royal Blue)

The Sarah Jane Extended Universe (The Sarah Jane Adventures)

Does SJAEU even count? It’s not even a fic! But my fucking God I love my SJAEU. If it does not count, swap it with Call Me Maybe (Carry On). I am not surprised that my Carry On and Check, Please! fics make up most of the list, since apart from Glee, those are the fandoms I’ve written the most for. Carry On has definitely taken over, though, so what I said for Glee also applies to Check, Please!: there are some fics that I probably really like but it’s been a while since I read them (*cough*Midnight confessions*cough*). But yeah as I mentioned, my most kudo’d Carry On fic is my first. I am not surprised that Mr. Grimm-Pitch and Mr. Snow is my second highest kudo’d one for that fandom, because I love that one, but I just love other fics more. But even then, if I look at my personal top 10 I do feel like all of them were well-received (apart from SJAEU, but I don’t expect it to get a lot of hits since it is super niche, and My rose-coloured boy which is in my eyes my most underappreciated fic in Carry On, like, come on, it’s only 891 words long!) and I always love it when people kudo and comment on my fics.

Reader appreciation moment!!! Weeeeeh ✨✨✨

Since I feel like this challenge is already spreading among the Klainers, lemme tag some Snowbazzians (I am keeping that term): @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @artsyunderstudy @captain-aralias @cutestkilla

#tag game

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ilici · 3 years

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kitty, kitty, kitty.

Gogywasfound's 1K event here: click here !

Summary: You and Karl rarely argue, and the one time you do, he is streaming. So he punishes you, after he finishes his stream.

GN reader !

NSFW MINORS DNI !!

Warnings: Degrading, cat maid outfit, biting, gagging, choking.

Word Count: 2138

Karl was already in a bad mood from Quackity and Sapnap teasing him about his relationship with Y/N. They kept repeating, "Karl is a simp", "Karl's the bottom in the relationship for sure.", "I bet Karl literally whines when he doesn't have Y/N's attention." Finally after a while, he snapped at them telling them to quit. They did, noticing he wasn't joking, although twitch chat thought it would be funny to come up with the nickname, 'Whiney boy Karl'. Y/N on the other hand was watching his stream from their shared bedroom, and they found it hilarious as it was all true. Karl was the bottom in the relationship, he would always beg for attention and would turn bratty if Y/N ignored him, and Karl was indeed a simp.

Taking it upon themself to go and bother Karl personally, Y/N got up out of bed and made their way to Karl's streaming room. Karl's fans have seen Y/N on multiple occasions, whether it was them giving food to Karl, keeping Karl company while he streamed, or even joining him on the stream, it wasn't abnormal for Y/N to just randomly pop up. When Karl's door open, he cautiously looked over as Y/N entered the room with a mischievous glint in their eyes. When the two would argue, it would be once in a blue moon, as they knew each others limits and boundaries. But it was never a pretty sight when they argued, as Karl is one to never truly show his feelings, he would finally let them all out when he was arguing.

He would scream, cry, and even go as far as to ignoring them for days on end. Y/N was a different story, they never really showed much emotion when arguing, nor did they show it when they were not arguing. Y/N was not the best at showing emotions due to childhood trauma, which Karl soon helped on, to the point where Y/N would only show genuine happiness around Karl. Now was one of those moments, where Y/N showed their emotions, which was mischievous. Karl already didn't want to deal with their antics as he was still a bit upset from Quackity and Sapnap's bit. "Hi bubba." Y/N greeted, walking over to Karl, and sitting down on the floor. Karl nodded his head in acknowledgment, as he pretended to focus on Minecraft.

Not liking his reaction, Y/N rolled their eyes and spoke up, "What's this 'Whiney boy Karl' ordeal about?" They asked, already knowing the answer. They just wanted to get a reaction from him, and Karl shifted trying to contain his emotions. "I don't know, something chat made up." He said dryly, hoping Y/N would drop the subject. "Obviously, but how do they know you're whiney?" Y/N asked once more, and Karl closed his eyes inhaling sharply. "Shut up." He muttered under his breath, Y/N hearing, but the mic didn't pick it up. Taking this as an invitation, Y/N shrugged and looked around aimlessly, "But it's true, why are you getting so worked up?" They said, which caused Karl to slam his hand down on his desk.

"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" He said, deathly calm, which shocked Y/N as he was always one to yell during their arguments. "What's wrong with telling the truth? You shouldn't lie to your fans." Y/N argued back, and Karl threw his headset off, which startled the two people that were in a call with him. "What the hell is going on over there?" Sapnap asked, as the two clicked on his stream to see what was happening. Karl had muted on discord, but forgot to mute his actual mic, so the stream could hear and see everything. "Oh? Tell the truth? Okay, sure." He scoffed, moving his gaming chair away from him roughly.

Y/N rolled their eyes, and flipped him off, "You are an asshole, I was joking around and you snapped on me. What the fuck is your problem?" They said, now angry, and Karl laughed shaking his head. "You know what you were doing. You came in here to purposely anger me." Karl said, stepping dangerously close to Y/N, "Holy shit, this is getting good." Quackity said, and Sapnap laughed a bit as he has witnessed a fight between the two before. "So what if I did?" Y/N said, grabbing Karl's shirt collar pulling him closer with a harsh glare. "I bet you did it because you're wanting me to fuck the absolute shit out of you." He whispered, so that his mic wouldn't pick it up, and Y/N visibly gulped.

"What the fuck did he say to them?" Quackity asked, and Sapnap hummed, "You may be short, but that isn't the only thing short on you. So is your temper." Sapnap said, making up random sentences as the two whispered between each other. "What if I want you to?" Y/N asked, looking at Karl's lips as he licked them hungrily. "Go get fucking dressed you attention whore." He whispered in their ear, and Y/N walked out of the room red faced. Everyone assumed it was from anger, but Karl knew what it was from. "Sorry guys, I gotta go. Y/N is having a tantrum because I've been streaming for 3 hours now." He said, before smirking, "Whose the whiney one now chat?" He asked, before he abruptly ended the stream leaving the call without a word.

Quickly making his way to the bedroom, Karl swung the door open to see Y/N in the maid outfit, adjusting the cat ears on their head. He smirked, and bit his bottom lip scanning their body. "What an adorable kitty you are." He said, and Y/N scoffed flipping him off, "Bite me, bitch." Y/N muttered under their breath, and Karl raised an eyebrow walking to them. Grabbing Y/N by their throat, he glared at them, as he reached behind pulling on their hair to make them look up at him as their height difference was by a whole foot. "Speak up kitty." He said, and Y/N winced looking Karl in the eyes, "I said, bite me, bitch." They said, daringly and Karl just chuckled.

"As you wish." He said, removing his hand from their neck, keeping the other tangled in their hair so their head was angled. Leaning down, he harshly bit their neck as Y/N let out a strangled mewl. "Fuck, that hurt." They said, trying to get out of his death grip. Karl being a lot stronger, they were stuck in his grip, as he kept biting around on their neck leaving prominent hickeys. "So pretty." He said, looking at his work on their neck. "On the bed, now." He demanded, and Y/N quickly listened not wanting to be punished more than they already were. Smirking at this Karl, slowly walked over as he adjusted them so they were on their hands and knees. "Ass up higher." He said, and Y/N arched their back.

Karl, was indeed the bottom in the relationship, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to be dominant. "Good kitty." He whispered, pulling down their underwear, and walked to the front of the bed, and forced their mouth open shoving their underwear inside their mouth gagging them. "Not a sound kitty." He said darkly, and Y/N nodded in understanding. Moving back, he moved the skirt up, showing their bare ass. He rubbed it lovingly, and slammed his hand down on it harshly to make sure, the underwear muffled the sounds. Smiling as he heard a muffled yelp, he slowly pulled his shirt off, and unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. Pulling them off, along with his boxers, he stepped out of them watching as Y/N squirmed around impatiently.

Getting on top of the bed, he gripped their hips roughly, knowing he'd leave bruises on them. Making sure they were prepared, he slowly entered in them, and he let out a satisfied moan when he bottomed out. Not moving, he waited for a signal, and once Y/N moved back against him for friction, he took that as the signal. Pulling out completely then slamming back in, he heard Y/N let out a surprised muffled moan. Repeating this action, he made sure to keep his pace even until he himself grew tired of it. Picking up his pace, he watched as Y/N was slowly reaching their high. Reaching forward he helped them reach it, "Cum for me, be the little whore you are and cum for me." He growled out, now ramming into them.

Letting out loud muffled moans, Y/N felt themself cum at his words, and they would've fell onto the bed if it wasn't for Karl's death grip on their hips keeping them up. Keeping his fast pace, he finally came inside of them, and pulled out watching as Y/N helplessly fell onto the bed tiredly. Smirking as he saw the white liquid slowly fall out, he smacked their ass again, this time softer. "You think we are done? Fuck no, get your ass up." He said, and grabbed their hips again, making sure to dig his nails into their skin. "Cat's have 9 lives, so you have 8 more rounds to go." He told them, and Y/N whined out, digging their face into the bed as he slammed back into them without a warning.

By the time it reached 4 A.M. Y/N was worn out, and sore, while Karl was just tired. Falling down beside Y/N he was breathing heavily, "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He said, looking over at Y/N who was just staring at him in a haze. Chuckling he reached over, taking the cat ears off, "Now you know that I will bite back if it comes to it, literally." He said, and Y/N just let out a tired laugh, as they took off the maid outfit, limping to the bathroom to cleanse themself. Karl watched amused at their limping, "Seems like the cat couldn't land on all fours." He joked, and Y/N flipped him off from the bathroom.

"Will you shut up?" Y/N whined, and Karl got up walking into the bathroom, "Seems like someone didn't learn their lesson." He said, picking Y/N up, and walking into the bedroom throwing them down onto the bed harshly. "No- wait- I'm sorry." Y/N said quickly, and Karl looked at them, before he nodded. "Just rest up." He said, handing Y/N his shirt to put on. Putting it on happily, they laid down, Karl wrapping his arm around their waist. "Do you think they heard our argument?" Y/N asked, mainly thinking about if they heard the sexual parts or not. Karl chuckled, "I made sure they didn't hear those parts, don't worry. They probably heard everything else." He admitted, and Y/N nodded their head.

Y/N yawned tiredly, and soon fell asleep. Karl shortly fell asleep after, the two were soon awoken by a loud bang from their living room. Groaning, Y/N rubbed their eyes as they looked around confused, "Karl, someones in the house." They said, and Karl quickly got up walking out of their room to go into the living room. "Holy shit!" Karl yelled, and Y/N bolted out of the room, and found Karl on the floor, and a relieved Chris standing above him. "Oh my god Y/N I thought Karl murdered you!" He said, running over to you, and hugged you. Looking down at Karl confused, Karl shrugged in an answer, "I saw your guys argument, and when Karl or you didn't answer your phones for 12 hours straight, I thought one of you died." He said, and Karl laughed a bit.

Y/N scoffed and mumbled, "One of us did." Which Karl heard, and Chris looked at Y/N confused, "What?" He said, and Karl got up, "They probably got scared from you." He said, and Y/N nodded, "I thought me and Karl were going to be murdered, as it is 6 in the fucking morning Chris!" They yelled the last part, and Chris laughed sheepishly, "I was just worried about my baby cousin, alright?" He said, now embarrassed. "How the hell did you even get in?" Karl asked, and Chris pointed to the now shattered window, "Sorry about that.. I'll ask Jimmy to buy you a new one." He said, and Karl slapped Chris upside the head. "God you're so dumb, and you have a fucking son." Y/N said, rolling their eyes pinching the bridge of their nose.

#gogys writing event #gogywasfound #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs smut #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Hell In A Cell

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language and Violence

Author's Note: I can't believe I haven't put this one back up yet. Nothing's more fun than WWE references when you're kicking ass, ya feel? -Thorne

They could feel her eyes on them as they stared at their hands, too afraid to meet her gaze. Dick suddenly found the beds of his nails interesting, Jason and Tim kept looking at the steel seats they were sitting on, and Damian just turned towards the front. She sat opposite of them, on the bench against the other wall, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees. The last time any of them had looked, she had her fingers intertwined and pressed against her lips, her eyes cold and infuriated. After a few moments, Dick gathered the courage to look up from his nails and glanced at her.

He gave a fearful smile and asked, “Uh…sis? Are you still…mad?” Her eyes drifted to his and he visibly flinched from her gaze.

She tipped her mouth away from her fingers and seethed, “Mad is the smallest word for what I am right now.” The others flinched at her fury and looked up, taking in the image of their angered sister.

“It wasn’t that bad (Y/N). We’re just…detained…” Jason’s words died as (Y/N) turned her eyes to him.

“I told you four chuckleheads that the property we were on was protected, but nooooo, ‘we’ll just be in there for five minutes. No one is going to find out’.” She growled as she stood, flinging her arms out to gesture around them.

“Well guess what?! Someone found out! And now we’re stuck in a goddamn jail cell at GCPD, waiting for dad to come bail us out!” Each of their necks disappeared into their shoulders.

Tim spoke quietly. “At least none of us got hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter if none of us got hurt! This is going to be all over the news tomorrow! ‘Billionaire Bruce Wayne’s kids found trespassing on personal property’.” She looked at them as she snapped, “Do you have any idea what this is going to do to our reputations?!”

She turned to Tim. “What this can and will do to the company and future deals?!” (Y/N) sat back down and dropped her head into her hands. “We’ll be lucky to come out of this unscathed.” She groaned loudly and rubbed her face with her hands, sighing tiredly, “Dad’s going to be so pissed when he gets here.”

“Father will not be angry at us sister. He will understand what we were doing.”

(Y/N) let out another heavy sigh and from behind her hands, she muttered, “Oh, he’s going to be angry. He’s going to blow a gasket he’s going to be so angry. I highly doubt—”

A shout from the back of the room cut her off. “Will you five shut the hell up? God, you’ve been complaining ever since you got in here.” The comments made the four boys turn their heads to a group sitting in the back.

(Y/N) pulled her head up and turned, her voice dark as she retorted, “Buddy, I’m in a less than stellar mood right now and unless you don’t want me to show you what your insides look like—I’d advise you to shut the fuck up.”

Her threat made him stand up and he started walking towards her, his group of thugs following in tow. “What did you just say to me rich-bitch? Wanna repeat that?”

When he finally stopped walking, he was right in front of her, and she could see her brothers beginning to rise from their seats for a quick defense. She raised a few fingers in their direction, telling them to wait.

(Y/N) looked up at him as she rose from her seat, coming nose to nose with him. She pulled the most intimidating face she could muster and repeated, “I said, unless you want me to show you what your insides look like…shut the fuck up.”

The man turned to his friends and started laughing, causing them to follow in suit, then he turned back to her. “I don’t think you understand the position you’re in sweetheart.” He motioned to his friends. “We’re in Two-Face’s gang.” He motioned to a group in the corner. “And those clowns work for Joker.”

He turned back to her and reached out, shoving her shoulder. “You’re locked in here with us. Imagine what we’ll do to five rich kids that don’t have any bodyguards to protect ‘em.” The others laughed, and (Y/N) shot a quick glance to her brothers along with a nod before looking back at the man and letting out a dark chuckle. A feeling of apprehension came over them as they stopped laughing.

She flashed him an unsettling grin and leaned forward, whispering, “No pal, I don’t think you understand. We aren’t locked in here with you.” Her brothers rose, moving to her sides and she leaned back. “You’re locked in here with us.”

The man’s eyes widened, and she jerked forward to grab the back of his neck and slammed his head into the seat she’d previously been sitting on. He dropped and the cell went dead silent.

The gang members in the back had stood up, and (Y/N) looked at the ones in front of her. “Who’s next?” No one moved an inch, and she tipped her head side-to-side. “C’mon jackasses, we’re gonna be here all night. We might as well get this over with.”

The gang members looked at each other before nodding and they turned to her and her brothers. “You’re so going to regret that.”

(Y/N) tipped her head and gave a quick glance to her brothers, grinning evilly. “Whoever knocks out the most thugs gets to come with me to Tokyo next week.” They matched her grins and they got into fighting stances.

She turned back to the group and taunted, “Let’s dance.”

***

They all collapsed onto the metal benches, sweating and bleeding; (Y/N) glanced at Dick who was holding the collar of his shirt to his busted lip. “You good Dickie?”

He looked at her and tossed her a thumbs up, and she turned to Jason. “How’s the nose?” He grunted and held his nose before sucking in a breath and shoving it back into place with a sickening crunch. The others winced at the sound, and Jason let go of his nose, slamming his head back into the wall a few times.

“I’ll take it that you’re better now?” He raised a few fingers and she reached down, tearing a piece of one of the unconscious gang-member’s shirts and tossing it to Tim. “Put that on your eyebrow Timmy.” He caught it and raised it to his left eyebrow that had been spilt open.

He nodded at her and she finally looked at Damian who was continually spitting blood on the floor. “You alright Dami?”

He spat once more and looked at her. “I got a tooth knocked out.”

The others turned to him and leaned forward, trying to see. “Lemme see!”

He opened his mouth, pointing to a tooth in the bottom left of his mouth. “It was a baby tooth, so there’s no problem.”

Jason snorted, but immediately regretted it as he reached up to hold his nose; he turned to Damian. “You’re thirteen and you still have baby-teeth?” Damian’s retort was cut off by a tennis shoe whacking Jason in the head, and they turned to see (Y/N) reclining against the wall.

“Jason don’t be a douchebag.” He grumbled at her and rubbed the side of his head, but conceded, and silence filled the cell once again.

After a few moments, the sound of footsteps came from down the hall and they all turned their heads to see their father, Alfred, and Gordon staring at them in shock. They flashed sheepish smiles, and (Y/N) waved a hand. “Hey dad, hey Alfie…hey Commissioner Gordon.”

“What in God’s name happened here?!”

(Y/N) looked around at the ground littered with unconscious gangmembers and turned back, grinning. “Uh…they got their asses kicked six ways from Sunday.”

“Why?!”

“Well, first they insulted us, and secondly, they put their hands on us. So technically, we were well within our rights to whoop ass.”

Her father glared at her and rebuked angrily. “(Y/N) Wayne, not another word.” She gave him a mock salute and shut her mouth; Bruce turned to Gordon and began discussing something, and a few minutes later, her and her family were walking out to the waiting car.

They all climbed in and waited for Bruce to start yelling at them; no words came from him, but they could tell he was seething with rage. A few moments went by and they pulled into an abandoned parking lot.

Bruce turned around and let them all have it. “You’re all off patrol for two months. Reason number one, the trespassing. Reason number two, the Hell in a Cell you five had.” He paused and threw his hands in the air. “What the hell were you five thinking?”

They all looked at (Y/N) who rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Yeah sure, look at the oldest and expect her to explain.” They giggled at her and she turned to her dad. “First and foremost, I can’t believe you just used a WWE term. Secondly, they were thugs, and we were attacked. So, by default, we just responded naturally.”

“And breaking skulls and bones is natural?”

“Is that a legit question?”

“Don’t make me ground you, young lady.”

(Y/N) grunted at him. “I’m twenty-six. You can’t ground me. I don’t even live at home.”

The others watched them bicker until Bruce raised a hand. “Enough. We’ll discuss this at home.”

“Again, I don’t live with you. I live on my own.”

“(Y/N) Wayne.”

“Alright…whatever.” He turned back around and nodded to Alfred, and the car began moving once more.

After a few minutes of silence, Jason cleared his throat and nonchalantly mumbled, “Not that it’s super important right now…but I get to go to Tokyo with you next week.”

“The hell you do! I knocked out the most thugs!”

“No, you didn’t replacement. I did.”

“Neither of you Robin failures completed the challenge correctly. I won it.”

“Not to be rude little D, but you would be incorrect. I won the challenge.”

“Ain’t nobody asked you Dickhead.” This spurred an even bigger fight as the four of them began to bicker in the backseat, and (Y/N) groaned, leaning forward and rested her chin on Bruce’s shoulder.

His head tipped downwards, and he eyed her. “What’s wrong with you?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and mumbled, “I gotta them all to Tokyo next week because we aren’t going to be able to figure out who knocked out the most.”

Bruce sighed, but a small grin crossed his lips, and after a few seconds he murmured, “You won the most knocked out, didn’t you?”

“Oh totally.”

“That’s my badass daughter.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Master Bruce! Ms. (Y/N)! Your language!”

They both glanced at Alfred and said, “Sorry Alfred.” They looked back at each other before sharing a smile, then the sound of flying fists reached their ears and they both sighed. Then,

“OW THAT WAS MY NOSE!”

“AND THAT WAS MY LIP!”

“OW YOU LITTLE SPAWN! THAT’S MY ARM YOU’RE BITING!”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder and looked at her fighting brothers: Jason had Dick in a headlock while giving him a noogie, and Tim was trying to remove Damian’s teeth from his forearm. She turned back around and looked at Alfred and her dad.

“Do you guys wanna come with me instead of them?”

Bruce eyed her with an eyebrow raised. “Do you really think leaving the city to the four of them is a good idea?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment before muttering, “I mean it’s not a great idea, but it’s an idea nonetheless.”

“One that’s bound to end up in a city on fire.”

“…Yeah you got me there.” She paused a slight second before affirming, “But the offer still stands.”

“No (Y/N).”

“But I don’t want to take them with me.”

“Too bad.”

“Fuck my life.”

“MS. (Y/N)! LANGUAGE!”

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brattyfics · 3 years

Text

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat.

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

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myckicade · 3 years

Text

Prompt: Which totally begs the question, does Taza get jealous? What would that look like?

A/N: I just want to say… Thank You. I love Taza, I really do. If they wanted to add him to the show, a bit more (*cough*hint*cough*), I certainly wouldn’t complain.

That said, this was enjoyable to put together. I like the challenge that comes with each different personality.

Jealousy Thursday continues! The fuse was lit with Bishop. Now, let’s fan the flames with Taza!

Title: Unbecoming

Teaser: This is why you should never make dinner reservations.

Tapping your foot against the side of the bar, you steal a look at your watch. A quarter passed six. As opposed to the last time you looked, at eleven minutes passed.

See, this… This is why you should never make dinner reservations.

Something came up. Something always comes up. You’re doing your best to understand that, really, you are. You know what you signed on for, after all. And, it did seem like it was a surprise need to call everyone together, just as you’d been ready to head out.

“I’ve gotta’ steal him from you, for a minute,” Bishop had apologized, with a sincere enough smile. “Fifteen minutes, tops. Have a drink, while you wait. On the house.”

Fifteen minutes… Bishop’s fifteen minutes sure as hell feels a lot like an hour and twenty. (And, yes, you’re still counting). You’d be on your second or third beer, by now, if you didn’t have the presence of mind to know that, duh, you’re driving to the restaurant, tonight. Well, maybe. You’ve already pushed that reservation back, once. After a second time… You might as well just cancel.

A loud ruckus behind you startles you from your thoughts. Glancing over your shoulder, you take in the sight of a selection of Mayans gathered around a table. They’d exited the back room, about fifteen minutes prior, and you were disappointed that Che wasn’t with them. Still are. He and Bishop are still back there, flapping their gums about who knows what. You don’t know, and you don’t ask.

You just… wait.

Anyway, at least you have the noise of the other guys to listen to. From where you sit, it looks as though someone has grown a little over-excited, and tipped a beer over. Right onto Angel. The man has stood to his feet, an irritated look on his face, as he pulls the front of his shirt away from his skin.

“The fuck?!” he bellows, looking to his brother, beside him. “I just opened that beer, bro!”

EZ has a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. “Sorry, man.”

You roll your eyes. You don’t know Angel, all that well, but… If there is anyone destined to be pissed off over a spilled beer, he seems the type. A nice kid, with a big gap between his ears, granted. But, still, a nice kid. Said nice kid is presently yanking off his kutte, draping it over the back of his chair. His shirt comes next, peeled over his abdomen like a fucking GQ model. Would it be overkill to roll your eyes again, you wonder? He’s not a bad-looking guy, no, and his abs certainly are a thing of beauty. (How that’s possible, you can’t fathom, for how much you’ve seen him drink). But, that’s really about it. He’s not your type.

Your type is going to owe you, so big, for missing this dinner date.

You’re about to turn away from the lean, mean, beer-guzzling machine, when something catches your eye. Well, hello. It’s fucking beautiful. Big, but not too showy. Solid, thick. Impossible to miss, and it makes a statement. You haven’t seen that on him, before now. Where has he been hiding it?

Oh, get it out of the gutter. You’re totally staring at Angel’s belt buckle.

It’s a nice buckle. It looks to be some sort of tribal design, worked into the metal with what must have been a sure hand. You really have to go ask him where he got it. You’ve been to every shop for four towns, and no one has anything close to the quality of what he’s wearing. While that design isn’t what you have been looking for, if it’s custom? You’ll pay a pretty penny to get what you want made.

The buckle comes closer, and you can see more detail. What you took for a tribal design reveals itself to be a serpent, of some sort, possibly a dragon. The work is so fine, even the scales are visible.

“See somethin’ you like?”

You jerk your head up, to stare, wide-eyed, right into Angel’s expression of amusement. Apparently, two and two equal five, and you didn’t compute that the buckle coming closer meant that Angel was coming with it. (Heaven, help you). He’s still shirtless, having put his kutte back onto his bare back. And, oh, hell. He must think you were staring at his abs.

You’d hate to have to tell him, his jewelry is more impressive.

Instead, you give him a smile. “Actually… Yes, I do.” This time, his eyes widen, eyebrows going for his hair line. “I really want to know where…” You circle a finger in the air, a few times, slow and lazy, before tapping it against that serpent. “…-You got this little beauty.” Angel looks down, and, fuck, he looks like he could choke. Flustered, and, is that a blush? It’s hysterical, it truly is. Did he really think you wanted a piece of him? Really?

Apparently, you had him going, as he has to look away, and clear his throat. He looks to the girl behind the bar, and nods. “Can I get another beer?” She makes haste, sliding a fresh bottle across the bar top, in the blink of an eye. No wonder this guy has a head as big as all outdoors. These broads just fall all over him, don’t they? Angel lifts the bottle toward his mouth, pausing to give you a fleeting side glance. “Got it across the border.”

“Mexico?” you ask, quite needlessly. You really haven’t thought to check, there. But, then, again… You don’t exactly have occasion to country-hop, very often. “Damn. That’s where all the good stuff hides.”

Angel nods, as he swallows his mouthful of liquid. “No offense,” he begins, tone highly suggestive that he knows he’s going to offend you, regardless. “But, you don’t seem like the belt buckle type.” He turns to face you, leaning to rest his elbow on the bar top. Casual as can be, which is hysterical, when you recall how pink his face had been, just a moment before. “So, was that actually a come-on, or what?”

The balls on this kid. You scoff a laugh. “No offense,” you mimic, tone suggesting more than just offense. You may just straight-up hurt his feelings. “But, you just don’t seem like my type.”

He smirks, and shakes his head. “See, I’m everybody’s type.” At least he took it well, you figure. Angel takes another swig from his bottle, before setting it on the bar. His eyes haven’t left you, all the while, but they are beginning to narrow. “So, if you ain’t tryina’ pick me up… Why the fascination with my wardrobe?”

Or, the lack, thereof. You toss that thought aside, and put on a pleasant smile. “Che has a birthday coming up. I want to get him a buckle, but it’s been a bitch. I’ve been to every shop in the area, and then some... Nada.” You lift your own beer to your lips, and take a sip.

“Yeah, the one guy in town who did ‘em right… I dunno’. He died, or got deported, or somethin’.”

Well. You haven’t choked on a drink, in a while. This is refreshing.

Angel’s eyes widen, again. “You gonna’ make it, or what?” A couple of coughs get you through, and you soon remember how to breathe. You nod, by way of response, pointedly ignoring Angel’s snicker. “Well, if you don’t kill yourself on that shit…” He shrugs. “You tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll check the shop, next time I’m down. Send you some pictures, if you want?”

Oh. Oh, well. “That’d be very nice of you.” You suddenly feel a little bad for all the rotten thoughts you’ve had about him. Just a little. Reaching into your pocket, you produce your business card, and hand it over to Angel. “Thank you.”

The grin that covers his face… Well, there’s no mistaking that he and EZ are related. “I’m a nice guy,” he preens, pocketing your card. “Just ask anybody.”

“Funny,” comes a voice from behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you come face-to-face with Bishop. “I tend to think you’re a bit of a pussy.” Angel rolls his eyes, but doesn’t respond. Must just be good-natured ribbing. Bishop turns a smile on you, next. “Sorry to have kept him for so long.” He’s not, and you know it. Business is business, according to Che. It takes as long as it takes.

“It’s all right,” you reply, returning the smile. “I had decent company.” You eye Angel, who wiggles his fingers in a cutie-pie wave. How ridiculous. You look over Bishop’s shoulder, next. “Where is the old man?”

Bishop chuckles. “Little boy’s room.” You smirk. “Should be right out.”

“Thank you, Bishop.”

“Hey, no problem, (y/n).” Bishop pats you on the shoulder, before collecting a beer from the bartender, one he didn’t even have to ask for. You know his status around here, but it still amazes you, somewhat, to see it in action. “You and Taza have a good night, huh?” You nod, and he heads for the table of Mayans across the room.

Beside you, Angel is back to grinning. “Big night, tonight?”

You don’t even get the chance to respond, before Che is slipping up behind you. “Probably not anymore,” he sighs, looking from Angel, to you. He grimaces. “I’m sorry, (y/n). Think we can still make it?”

You wave a dismissive hand. “I have a better idea.” Standing from your chair, you face the man you’ve been waiting a long, long time for. And, you don’t just mean the last few hours.

“Oh?” Che sounds intrigued. It’s a good sign.

“I’ve got a frozen pizza, and a half gallon of ice cream back at my place.”

He purses his lips, for a second. “…-What flavour?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s so damned adorable. “Black raspberry.” He inhales, deeply, and you know you have him. “How about it? The game is coming on, too. It’ll be a perfect Thursday night.”

Che laughs, quietly. “Throw in a beer? You’ve got a deal.”

“We’ll stop at the store, on the way home.” You’re practically beaming, all frustration at missing your reservation forgotten. It amazes you, sometimes, that Che has the power to do that, just by existing. You grab your jacket, and look back over your shoulder. “Thank you for your company, Angel.”

He lifts his beer bottle to you, in salute. “Likewise. I’ll be in touch.” He pushes off the bar, and heads back to the table. “Night, guys.”

“Night, Angel,” Che chimes in, before sliding his arm around you. He sounds tired, his arm sitting a little heavy over your shoulders. “You ready?”

“Beyond,” you agree, and start for the door.

There are three slices of pizza left of the table, in front of you. The game is in the third quarter, and there’s a third Panther injured, and sitting on the sidelines. Taza is on his third beer, and the dog between you, on the couch, is serving as your third wheel.

Taza isn’t big on coincidences, nor does he lean toward superstition. But, the number three is weighing on his mind.

Neither of you really has a stake in this game. The score is average, the commentators are pretty typical, and you can’t seem to understand how Houston is losing, when Carolina lost Christian McCaffery to a hamstring injury, in the first half. You’ve grumbled about it, at least a dozen times. They’re doing their best, is the best answer Taza can come up with. It nearly spring-boarded off his tongue, before he could stop it. It would be a dead giveaway, that his focus is somewhere else. And, he’s trying, he really is. Pizza, drinks, football. It’s a very, very normal night.

Except that, no, no, it really isn’t.

Now, it can be said that Taza is a lot of things. Peaceable, where possible, sure. He’s getting too old for fist-fights, every other day. Intuitive, absolutely. He probably wouldn’t be V.P., otherwise. The position wasn’t designed for a complete dumbass. And, for everything that Taza is, there are plenty of things that he isn’t.

Stupid.

Irrational.

Young.

All right, that last one’s probably just vanity talking. (Never much took himself for a victim of that one, either). It doesn’t make it any less true. He’s holding up all right, he supposes. He can still ride, and hold his weapon straight. He has his hair, and his sight. All of his teeth. Sure, he gets up in the middle of the night, these days, the need to piss so bad he’s frequently sworn off all liquids, after noon. He doesn’t have the stamina he once had, loathe though he is to admit it, but it’s not as if he has a lot of trouble in the bedroom. Once in a while, things may not go… according to plan, but you haven’t complained. You might ask, “You doing all right?”, more often than he appreciates, at times, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.

Well. That was a peppy little inventory of his face-first slide into old age.

Really, all-in-all, things are going pretty well. The two of you mesh in an interesting way, given the generation gap. You don’t treat him like a geriatric, or as your elder. You understand a lot of his outdated references, far more than he has ever encountered in anyone of… any age, honestly. Life, philosophy, it’s like… It’s like talking to himself, sometimes, when he talks to you. You just get it. It’s beautiful, and amazing, and he can’t believe that, out of all the billions of people on this planet, he found you. Moreover, that you want to be with him.

This is probably why he can’t get the scene at the clubhouse bar out of his head.

He wants to ask what you and Angel were talking about. He wants to know, so fucking badly. You’d been staring at Angel – a very shirtless Angel – when Taza stepped into the room. And, that stare was intent. Focused. You’d established, very early in your relationship, that looking will always be a forgivable offense. Appreciation of another being doesn’t jeopardize your love for one another. But… You’d touched. Your fingers were on Angel’s belt. The kid was in his smoothest stance, beside you. “I’ll be in touch.”

He wants to ask, but he can’t. Jealousy isn’t very becoming.

Angel is a nice kid, Taza supposes, all things considered. A bit of a man whore, maybe. Definitely a walking ad for penicillin. The ladies – and, plenty of the guys – love the hell out of him. A few tacos short of a combination plate, but a real talker. Fun-loving, and energetic.

Little bastard is probably a fucking three.

Heaving a sigh, Taza settles more heavily into the couch. It’s a comfortable sectional, and – embarrassing, though it is – he’s more than just a little bit in love with your chaise lounge. You have the best taste in furniture of anyone he’s ever encountered. Truthfully, you have the best taste in everything. Music, food, décor. And, according to you, your taste in men is absolutely impeccable. Your words, not his. He tries to draw on that, as something close to comfort.

It’s not that he’s suspicious, not really. Not really. In the entire run of your relationship, he’s seen you deep in conversation with other Club members half a dozen times, at best. Twice, you’ve given Coco advice on feminine needs for his daughter. Creeper has asked for details about your car, trying to decide whether it is worth buying his old lady one like it. Another conversation had been with Hank, the two of you tuning out the rest of the room, while he gave you tips on where to buy the best treats for Flint.

Smiling, Taza reaches down to pet the mentioned pooch’s head, where it rests on his thigh. He knows his visitor is bothered, not having left his side, all night.

Bothered. That’s one way to put it. And, quite frankly, Taza feels like an old fool. You’ve been entirely honest about your preferences, that you have zero interest in men your age, and younger. That they’re all ‘overgrown children’, and ‘don’t have their shit together’. But, according to you, the worst part is that they don’t understand you. You operate on different levels.

You and Taza operate on the same level. He understands you. And, you tell him, all the time, that you find his age to be a turn-on. You’re forever leaving him in a silent fluster, telling him he’s gorgeous, and sexy. That he’s the only man that’s ever made you feel so good. So whole. You don’t care that he’s set in his ways, because it doesn’t stop you from trying to urge him into trying new things. You don’t care that you sometimes wear him out after a single round, telling him that sleep is ‘a beautiful thing’. You don’t care that he doesn’t sport a perfect six-pack, unless he’s carrying a six-ring of your favourite beer. You still make him feel desirable. You make him feel young, and worthy of the love and attention you bestow upon him.

You’re amazing. Everything he never thought he’d find in another soul, ever again.

“Well, that sucks,” you complain, pulling Taza’s wandering attentions back to the television. He’s been so absorbed in his own worries, he’s missed the entire fourth quarter. At least he’d called the win, in Carolina’s favour. “So, whaddaya’ say, old man? Ice cream, and SVP?”

Taza looks at you, for a moment. A long moment, really taking you in. Your smile is so soft, teetering on tired. Your hair is tussled, probably from a rough finish on that game. (Hey, nobody told you to root for Houston, tonight). Yes, you’re amazing. You’re beautiful, and you’re perfect, and you don’t need to tell him what you and Angel were chatting over. He just needs to trust in you, and in the security of your relationship.

“Sounds good to me, (y/n).” You lean over, careful of Flint, and press a gentle kiss to Taza’s lips, before getting off of the couch. Taza watches you walk away, before closing his eyes, and taking in a deep breath. He holds it for a second, then slowly lets it out through his mouth.

No, jealousy is not very becoming, at all. Thankfully, it has no place, here and now. After all, he’s the one on your couch, cuddled up with your dog. He’s the one who gets to enjoy your company. And, come Hell or high water, he’s the one you’ll wake up with, tomorrow morning.

For the record, Taza loves the belt buckle you gift him for his birthday. The metal has been worked to include four incredibly detailed feathers, adorned with three turquoise stones, and an ethically-recovered bear claw. He seems to like that part the best.

And, by the time you tell him that Angel helped make it possible, he’s forgotten all about his insecurities. All he remembers of that night is how the ice cream melted on the counter, after he followed you to the kitchen, lifted you into his arms, and carried you to the bedroom. He’d had the strangest urge to show you how sorry he was for ruining your night out.

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c.#taza x reader #taza romero x reader #taza x you #taza romero x you #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic #Jealousy Thursday #che taza

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priortoallthoughts · 3 years

Text

Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Caf

(or do, because it’s gotten you this far)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing; gets a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.

Summary: What is supposed to be a night out at 79s turns into a night in the drunk tank, and the morning starts a startling new relationship with a certain Coruscant Guard Commander. All over a cup of caf.

// [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Masterlist

A night out in Coruscant is never complete for you without going to the clone bar, 79s. You may pre-game somewhere else, but you always end up there, recognizable as one of their regulars. You love the atmosphere, honestly. It’s so jovial, just vode – and weren’t you surprised when you found out that clones spoke a different language with each other – coming to forget the war for a night. Living life as much as they could. You’ve picked up a few words of theirs purely because you hear them so often. Many a curse word too, which are your favorites.

And they were about to be put to good use.

You’re already buzzed and walking with a group of grey-clad troopers that had pulled you into their group when they saw you walking alone. You chat easily with them even though you never met them before. That’s the funny thing about being sociable when you’re sober – you’re even more chatty when you drink. And giggly apparently, considering you couldn’t stop laughing at the mission gone wonky they were telling you about.

When 79s came into view your smile widens. There really is nothing like the neon lights and bass you can already hear resonating from inside. Were there probably millions of places just like in on Coruscant already? Sure. But there isn’t anywhere aside from 79s you could find this kind of ambiance.

There is one downside that pisses you off like no other though.

There’s yelling coming from over by the speeder-way and when you look over, another civilian is getting in the face of a Coruscant guard member. The frown the graces your face feels wrong after laughing so much, but you can’t help it. You pause in your tracks. Usually when you see this kinda shit it deescalates fairly quickly, but this civilian is getting louder and more violent the more the (admittedly nervous acting) guard tried to calm him down.

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder and you look up to see one of your group. “We can’t do anything. The punishment would be too harsh and that civvie chakaar won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

Your frown turns into a snarl. “You can’t do anything.”

Fishing your flask out of your jacket pocket you take a swig before shoving it into the chest of the closest trooper. The steady click of your heels is the only thing you can hear over the growing volume of yelling.

“Hey! Shabuir in the stupid shirt!” Your own yell interrupts.

You have exactly one second to reconsider things before you think about all the vitriol this jackass is spewing at the guard for nothing. The sound of your fist hitting his face is the most satisfying thing you’ve heard tonight, along with the yelp he lets out when he hits the ground.

“What the kriff is your problem, bitch?!”

“You talking shit about this trooper is my problem!”

He turns towards the guard again and the trooper flinches. “I want her arrested for battery!”

You lean down to grab his collar and shake him out. “Oh, so now you want him to do his job? The one you were just belittling him for? Can’t have it both ways, chakaar!”

“Let go of me!”

You drop him so suddenly that his head cracks against the ground. He scrambles to his feet and points a finger at you. “You’ll regret this! They’re nothing but meat-droids!”

“Say that again, you little pissant. I dare you.” You go to take a step forward but he’s already running away. A hand on your shoulder again makes you look over to the one you defended.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” And he does sound sorry. “I will have to take you in tonight. I… can’t ignore you attacking someone right in front of me.”

You smile at him. “No problem, trooper. Do your job; I don’t want you getting in trouble.” You offer your wrists to him and next thing you know they’re in a pair of binders behind your back and you’re being placed in the back of a speeder.

“A night in the drunk tank should sort you out.”

The smile you give him is blinding, because not only do you know that’s not the proper booking for what you just did, at least you look cute while you’re being taken away.

---

When you wake up in your cell (lucky you’re the only one there) you’re beyond tired and in desperate need of some caf. You can’t function without it in the morning.

There’s a guard member who lets you out not long after you get up. You follow him like a zombie. Presumably he’s leading you out of all the twisting hallways, but you stop short when your nose picks up the distinct smell of caf.

But not just any caf. You know the smell of Death Wish anywhere.

Your favorite.

You follow your nose to a mess hall – sparsely populated but still enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at you as you make your way to the caf machines in the back. You’re basically falling asleep as you walk so you don’t notice. Maybe you should care, considering you’re still wearing your clubbing outfit from last night, but no, you don’t actually care.

When you get there you see two different machines. One is labeled with some cheap, generic caf name and the other is simply “Fox’s Starfighter Fuel.”

You grab a flimsi cup and fill it with the second one. No cream. No sugar.

No life, only caf.

You finally notice how deathly quite it is as you take your first sip and turn around. There’s one trooper standing in front of you, helmet tucked under his arm, and the most severe look you’ve ever seen before gracing his features. You look him over with half-lidded eyes, noticing he’s dressed differently than the others, and casually take another sip of caf.

“You must be Fox.”

“Civilians aren’t allowed in this part of the building, who let you in here?”

Still waiting for the caf to kick in, you shrug. “Spent the night in the tank. No one stopped me when I walked in.”

Fox turns to glare at everyone sitting at the tables. They all look down at their food like they weren’t obviously watching and someone starts whistling.

“You need to leave,” he says when he turns back around.

“Can I finish my caf first?” You ask, taking more sips hoping to stall.

He glowers even more. “That’s not even your caf!”

“Shame.” You chug the rest of the still mostly full cup and coughs wrack your chest when you finish. “I think I just burned my esophagus,” you rasp.

“Get out.”

“That’s completely fair.”

You toss your cup in the trash on the way out. Turning the way you were going before you got distracted, you make your way to the exit; no need to bring the wrath of Fox down on you for sticking around. You feel like, once again, you get off light and dont’t want to press your luck. The smile that graces your face as you step outside is probably a strange thing for anyone else to see considering you’re walking out of jail, but you had a good night, and the morning is shaping up to follow suit.

---

The next day you walk into the caf shop you normally stop at on the way to work. The barista behind the counter waves as you walk up. “Your usual, hun?”

“You know me,” you smile brightly, “but, uh, can you make it two?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t imagine the morning you’re expecting to have!”

You laugh and wave her off. “Nothing bad. I owe someone a cup.”

“You mean someone else drinks this sludge?”

“Imagine my surprise. And it’s not that bad!”

She places two large flimsi cups in front of you. Your hands rub together nervously before you get your thoughts together. “Can I borrow your marker?”

She hands it to you with a raised eyebrow and you quickly scribble a few words on one of the cups. It isn’t a lot, and it completely gives away who you are without having to sign your name, so you hope it’s okay.

“Thanks, gotta run!” You scurry out of the door before the barista can ask anything about what you’re doing.

You aren’t even sure yourself if you were being completely honest. The Coruscant Guard building is a little out of your way from your route to work, but you leave early in the mornings anyway, so you can still make it in time even with the detour. You feel a bit nervous walking in this time. Where did all your confidence from yesterday go?

You flag down the first trooper you see that doesn’t look busy.

“Can you give this to Fox, please?” You hold out the cup for him to take.

He doesn’t.

He only stands there, and you imagine he’s making a face behind his helmet because he doesn’t say anything either.

After a few seconds of silence you lower the cup awkwardly. “Uhh, oh, sorry, am I allowed to bring caf?”

“Why are you bringing the Commander caf?” He finally asks.

You squeeze the cups so much the tops almost pops off. “Fox is a commander?”

“Commander Fox is head of the Coruscant Guard, ma’am.”

The top of your own cup does pop off this time, but nothing spills.

“The entire guard?” You squeak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heat is quick to crawl up your face. “Oh stars, I can’t believe I took his caf.” Your internal panic is quickly becoming external as you try not to drop either cup. You hid your face behind one in embarrassment.

“Wait.” The guard member tilts his head. “You’re the one they were talking about yesterday? The girl from the mess hall?”

There’s a few second where nothing but incomprehensible noises come out of your mouth, but you finally get out, “how many people know about that?!”

“It’s made its way around.”

“I’m gonna - kriff - go throw myself off the senate building I swear-“

You’re cut off by the sound of a chuckle and you snap your head up to see the guard member’s shoulders shaking. “So you’re not trying to poison the Commander, huh?”

“No!” You yelp, but quiet down after you see others turn to look at you. “I was just trying to repay the caf I drank! We like the same kind!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Can you please just give this to him before I die of embarrassment? You’re killing me here!”

He laughs again and finally takes the cup from your shaking hands. “Who should I say it’s from?”

You slap a hand over your face to hide your grimace. “At this point I’d rather not tell you. I want to keep some of my dignity intact,” you mutter.

“Nobody’s dignity is intact here, ma’am.”

“Oh… joy.”

“You best be on your way then.”

He is giving you an out and you’re taking it in full.

“Have a good day,” you say as you turn, the only proof you’ve been there being one guard member and a note on a flimsi cup.

“Sorry for taking your caf yesterday.”

---

One week later you find yourself standing outside of the caf shop, once again with two cups in hand through no fault of your own. It makes you think that maybe another trip to the Coruscant Guard building wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Why waste a perfectly good drink after all?

You pause immediately when you step through the door, because the man you’re looking for is standing across the room talking to someone with a datapad in hand. The decision on whether to interrupt is made for you when the person he’s talking to looks over and spots you.

He waves and Fox finally looks over as well, tilting his head as he does so. You take a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Caf girl!”

You raised your eyebrow at the other trooper. “I really am known around here for that, aren’t I?” You say as you stop in front of them. You have a sneaking suspicion that he is the same one you talked to last week.

“Well you never gave me your name,” he shrugs.

Yeah, it’s him.

Your head snaps to Fox, however, when he addresses you.

“You know my name?”

“Your information was processed and put into the system when you spent the night in the tank.”

“Osik,” you mutter.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

You perk up some, and hold out the second drink in your hand. “Right, there was a mixup at the caf shop, and I got an extra drink. I thought you might like it.”

He takes it carefully, but your bare fingers still brush against his gloved ones. They tingle when you pull away, and while the heat on your palm from holding the hot cup fades, the heat in your fingertips does not. You have the sudden urge to find out what holding his hand feels like, but you push that thought down along with the blush you can feel rising. Now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. Maybe if you come by earlier next time….. would there be a next time?

“Thank you. I… appreciate the thought.” You think you hear him trip over his words, but there’s no way.

You smile brightly at him. “You’re welcome!” You check the time on your chrono. “Looks like I gotta bounce. Enjoy your caf, Commander!”

Your retreat is quick, but hells if you don’t add a little extra sway to your hips as you walk out the doors.

And scribbled on the cup now in Fox’s hand is:

“I know day old caf when I taste it. Fresh is better.”

---

You start to bring Fox caf every week.

“This has become part of my routine, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Every week turns into every few days.

“Your filing system is horrifying but at least your chair is comfy.”

Every few days turns into every day.

“Tell Thorn that if he sees me at 79s tonight, he can’t arrest me just so I’ll hang out with him.”

And leaving early just to see Fox is the best part of your day no matter what. You hope you’re not the only one who feels like this. That maybe as you walk to the Guard building in the morning, you’re not the only one smiling and counting down the minutes until you get to Fox’s office. He never turns you away, and he’s always there to take the extra caf from your hands if he can be. Sometimes you have to leave it on his desk if he’s not in, but you understand that his job isn’t easy by any stretch of the word.

He is in this morning, however, seeing as the door opens promptly at your knock. He sits behind his desk, a few data pads already stacked next to him and a frown marring his face. That won’t do.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You say as you set his caf down next to his helmet and lean against his desk.

Fox looks up and gives you a tired smile, unaware of how it makes your stomach flutter. “Shaping up to be a long day.”

“Giving yourself more grey hairs already?” You say, giving a pointed look to his already greying sides.

“Like I need any more,” he huffs.

“I dunno,” you reach up and run your fingers lightly through his short curls, “I think they make you look distinguished.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. “At least one of us thinks so.”

“It’s okay, I can like it enough for the both of us.”

“Should I count myself lucky then?” He smirks, finally taking a sip of his caf and sighing contently into the cup.

You give him a cheeky grin. “You should.”

He looks at you then, not saying anything, and you can’t help the flush you feel crawling up your face. You swear, you had never blushed so much around anyone before you met him. You distract yourself by drinking your own caf, the liquid welcome to your suddenly dry mouth.

“I do.”

“What?” Your head snaps back up to him and he’s still looking at you, but not in a way you’ve seen before.

“I do count myself lucky.”

You look away shyly, a small smile forming at the corners of your mouth. Sure, you two have been lightly flirting with each other, or at at least you’re definitely flirting with him, but this is the most straight-forward thing he’s ever said to you.

“It’s a good thing I got myself arrested that night then, isn’t it?”

It’s uncharted territory, where this conversation is heading. The thought of what it could be sits low in your belly and causes you to let out a shakey breath.

“It’s quite the holovid to watch,” he says offhandedly.

You’re lucky you aren’t drinking your caf, otherwise you would have spit it everywhere. You turn your head so hard you think you give yourself whiplash, mouth agape, looking at him in wide-eyed mortification.

“There’s a holo of that?!” The pitch of your voice would be embarrassing if you weren’t in the middle of spontaneously combusting on the inside.

He nods empathetically, which is shit because you know for damn sure he’s not empathetic about it; he’s having too much fun with this. You know he is, with that stupid, heart-stopping smirk playing on his face.

“Our HUDs record each incident for our files to make sure everything matches up with the reports.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” you whine quietly into your hands that now cover your face. You hear him get up and move to stand in front of you, but you don’t react. Mainly because you have no idea what he’s doing, but also he’s so kriffing close you can barely handle it.

His pries your hands from your face and presses them to his desk, effectively caging you in. He’s even closer now, and you’re hyper aware of how hard your heart is pounding even though you stop breathing. It’s the last thing from threatening, but you’re still frozen.

He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear. “You look good in that little red dress of yours,” he whispers, his voice octaves lower than before. “Especially when you’re beating the kark out of a civvie – standing up for my vod.” It sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine and straight to your ovaries.

You suck in a breath when he pulls away. This is much more than you could have expected. “You’re not giving me much incentive to not be arrested again,” you tilt your head, “now that I know you’d be watching.”

“Always watching you, cyare.”

You hum, pulling one hand away from his to run up his armor and trace lightly over his jaw. “Gonna have to try harder to get a pair of binders on me next time, then.”

“Would you run?”

“Only if you’re the one chasing me.”

You move your hand from his jaw to the back of his neck and scratch lightly, feeling more than seeing him shiver under your fingertips.

“I’d find you.”

“Oh, I’d be counting on it, Commander.”

It’s a mutual surge that leads you two to lean in, culminating in the most charged kiss you’ve ever received. You throw your other hand around his neck, holding him as close as you can, while his hands latch onto your hips, pulling you up and into his embrace. He leads you back until he’s sitting in his chair and the next thing you know you’re falling into his lap to straddle him. You break for air, and to process that yes, this is happening, before you’re kissing again. A little slower; a little deeper.

You moan quietly into his mouth, and his hands move to your ass so he can pull you even closer.

There’s a chime from your chrono and you pull away, panting.

Fox’s eyes are dark and hungry when he looks at you. “You have to go soon.”

You nod, not breaking eye contact, and not moving either.

He grins, and it looks absolutely predatory. He slides the top of your blouse down slowly, just enough for his mouth to latch on to you right above your collarbone. You let out another breathy moan, and his teeth graze your skin in response as he sucks harder. His tongue soothes the area over when he lets go, and he looks at the quickly darkening spot with what you can only assume is possessive pride.

“For you to remember,” he says huskily.

Knowing he’s just staked his claim on you stokes the fire inside you even more. You give him your own feral grin, and pull down the collar of his blacks as he stiffens. “Who am I to allow you to forget, then?”

You suck hard at the column of his throat, higher than he did on you, knowing it would still be covered. You taste the sweat that had been building up, and his skin which you can’t even describe except that it tastes like him.

He groans lowly into your ear and you shiver when you pull away. You drag your nail lightly over the dark bruise in satisfaction before pulling his collar back up.

You slide off his armored thighs slowly. He follows you to stand, and gives you one last, long, kiss.

“Until next time, cyare.”

When you leave his office, you wish you had written something more on his cup than a crudely drawn fox with a smiley face next to it. Tomorrow though, you wonder what you can get away with saying.

“Next time I’m wearing that little red dress, feel free to search me. Who knows what I could be hiding.”

#prior writes #star wars #swtcw #clone wars #the clone wars #commander fox #cc 1010 #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #afab!reader #coruscant guard #writing #fanfic

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diamond-coral · 3 years

Text

The Heist (part 3/finale)

Steve x Reader

Chapter summary: Captain’s plan worked. Now you’re in for a lot of trouble after trying to break into his apartment. He’ll have you. Just like he wanted.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sex, dark, rape/non-con, forced orgasm, praise and degradation kink, kidnapping, mentions of strip club, mentioned anal, swearing, mild violence, slight Stockholm

“You wanna be treated like a whore?” he seethed. “Fine. I’ll treat you like a whore.”

Steve wrenched you from the wall and let you fly back toward his bed, your feet tripping over themselves as well as the chain attached to the cuff secured around your ankle before you finally tumbled onto the mattress. Your breathing was heavy as you glared back at his cerulean eyes which were narrowed, daring you to try anything.

And you did. Because fuck if you weren’t going down without a fight.

You darted out to the right, arm reaching out to take grip of the lamp on his nightstand. You grabbed hold of it and pivoted your body around as your arm flung out toward his head. Steve simply intercepted the hit with a firm grasp, and you gritted your teeth as the two of you began an aggressive tug of war for the lamp.

“Stop. This. Now,” Steve scolded as if you were a child before giving a sharp tug, the lamp slipping out of your hand.

“No thanks.” You grinned, catching him off guard, before you grabbed both his shoulders as support and kneed him in the groin. Hard.

Steve let out a pained groan. He dropped the lamp, and you caught it by the handle before using all your strength to swing the base against his head like a baseball bat. He stumbled backwards while his hand reached up near his temple. He pulled it back and inspected the blood. You remained frozen, having hoped that the blow would have at least knocked him out. His broad figure compromised your escape route to the door of his bedroom, so running was not an option.

“We need to fix this fuckin’ attitude of yours,” he grumbled, and while you were lost in your predicament of all escape routes being impossible, he snatched the lamp, this time breaking it in half like a toothpick before tossing both ends over his shoulder to the opposite side of the room. “I wanted a kind and docile housewife. Not some ungrateful bitch.”

He practically pounced on you, and you fought, pushing against his brick wall of body, before relenting with the knowledge he was far too strong for you.

“Well you’ve got the wrong person, buddy-pal,” you quipped, but your voice trembled in your compromised position..

“No. I don’t. Because I’ve already seen her, you, at the club. And I don’t know why the hell you gotta give me some attitude when I’m trying to save you from the shitshow of a life you’re livin’. Maybe you’re just scared. Scared of letting someone take care of you when you’ve been fighting for yourself for so long, so you put on the unappreciative bitchy exterior.”

Was this man serious? How delusional did he have to be to think all of that after one encounter?

“Well guess what,” he whispered, face so close to you that his breath fanned over you. “I’ll fucking rip it apart. I’ll break you down. Shatter this pathetic wall you have up until I get back the girl at the club. Might take a couple good fuckings, but I’ll finally get it out of you.” His thumb stroked your cheek, brushing away the tears that had shed at his admissions. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed. “This is for the best.”

You let out a small whimper, another round of tears flowing, at the sound of his belt unbuckling and fly coming undone.

You began pounding against his chest and begged him not to.

You wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Easily holding you down, Steve let out a stuttered moan as he entered you slowly. You begging turned into sounds of agony as he stretched you out and filled you like no other had before.

“I wanted our first time time to be special. Slow and loving,” he confessed as he stilled inside of you. He slowly pulled out before slamming his hips back in and muffling your shriek with a large hand. “Gotta say, this is still pretty special though. Might just love those big watery doe eyes lookin’ at me a little more than that cute smile of yours. You just look so pretty, all wrecked and crying for me, doll.” He moved his hand slightly aside to lick a strip of your tear stained cheek, letting out a hum of approval.

You thrashed under him, hands lashing out until one of his own came to wrangle both wrists above your head, so you resorted to bucking your hips in hopes of throwing him off. It was hopeless.

But you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The hand covering your mouth moved down to hold you hip down in a bruising grip. He just rutted into you harder and faster in response to your outburst.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make a noise. The searing of your walls was slowly melting into pleasure. You feared accidentally letting a moan slip and alerting Steve to your pleasure.

But Steve could tell how you enjoyed it. Although tears flowed freely from your eyes, your pussy squelched, the sound blending in with the clapping of skin each time he drove into you.

“Told you. I’d fuck you. Like a whore,” He managed to get out between thrusts. “And you fuckin’ love it too.” He let out a dark chuckle. “God you’re such a slut.”

You whined as he pulled out when he flipped you over, but he made up for it by beginning to drill into you harder than before. With every brutal thrust, his cock glided against your g-spot before the tip punched against your cervix, and your eyes rolled back into your head.

Steve roped your hair around his palm and yanked your head back. Your back arched painfully to accommodate.

“Tell me you’re a slut. Tell me your my slut. Only mine. Only for me. Not that stupid fuckin’ club. Mine.”

“N-no. No,” you stuttered, barely being able to form words. You wouldn’t let him have his victory. You wouldn’t give it to him and bend to him.

Because you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

He once again yanked your hair, this time using the momentum to bring your body flush against him. His other arm came to wrap around your waist, and he secured your back to him, never once letting up on fucking you. The new angle made your body light on fire, and a moan escaped past your lips.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut and I’ll let you cum.”

You wouldn’t. You still had some dignity left. You’d be strong. You’d-

“Oh fuck, I’m your slut. Please let me cum. Please, please, I need it so bad. I’m your fucking slut! Only yours Steve!” you cry out. Humility and pleasure both burned your body.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, quickening his pace. “Cum now. Cum all over my cock.”

You did just that. Your cunt clenched around his cock while you gushed around him. Pleasure constricted around your entire body like fire.

“Good little whore. All mine,” Steve chanted, but you barely heard him. All you could think about was Steve and his cock. You shattered. Your mind, your body, your will, all shattered to a million pieces.

________________________________________________________________

You sigh, smoothing down the flowy pink skirt that stopped right about your knees. That was all six months ago but it felt like years. Steve made good on his word. Here you were, the good little docile housewife, waiting for him to return home from a mission that had taken him three days, a home cooked meal sitting on the table. Waiting to be devoured by the ravenous man who would return. Just like you.

You didn’t even attempt to escape this time. The first time you had managed to shatter the living room window with a lamp (ironic, huh?) while Steve was in the bathroom. You had made it down the fire escape before he intercepted you in the alley and dragged you quietly back to the apartment with a gun concealed between your bodies. When you got inside, Steve brutally took your virgin asshole. The second time, you tried the same thing, but Steve caught you before you even stepped foot out the window. After replacing the glass with a new bulletproof material from S.H.I.E.L.D., he starved you for five days, only allowing you water. He still made you cook for him though. It was a cruel joke to him, watching you make him a meal while your stomach was about to eat itself. He’d fuck you hard after, and your body felt like it’d break in half.

The third time was three months after that. You’d managed to gain his trust enough to let him take you for a walk in the park, and after a knee to the groin, you took off and hid yourself in a crowd of people. It wouldn’t be a good image for Captain America to be hunting down an innocent girl on the streets of New York. You managed to be away from him for almost 24 hours, but you couldn’t go to the police. After telling them you were a stripper that broke into Captain America’s apartment, you highly doubt they’d believe the rest of your story.

You were in the grocery store with some stolen cash when Bucky Barnes finally caught you. He muttered a couple words about how pretty Bella was and how he’d hate to put a bullet through her pretty head, and you followed him like a dog back to Steve’s building. Steve, as a thank you to Bucky and a punishment for you, let Bucky fuck you for hours till you passed out with his metal hand around your neck.

You smile to yourself, hoping Steve would be happy that you remained compliant and would be there to greet him as he returned home.

The sound of a lock turning snaps you out of your thought, and your head turns to the door as Steve enters.

“Sweetheart!” you say as you throw yourself on him, hands intertwined behind his neck.

“Hi honey,” he greets, smiling down at you, taking in the sight before he leans down to give you a peck on your painted red lips. You almost frown at your eagerness to return it. Almost. But your interest is directed toward Steve as he reaches into a paper shopping bag. “Got you a little something. Know how much you love to paint.”

He pulls out a set of brushes, showing them to you, before handing you the entire bag. You look inside and gasp. So many colors and canvases. This was your life before he had trapped you, and here he was, giving you a piece of it back.

“Steve, I don’t even know how to thank you,” you begin. “I-”

Steve cuts you off with a deep kiss.

“Anything for my girl. Besides I figured you could use some practice.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Well, I bought us a house!” he announces, grinning. “That implant of yours will be wearing off in a couple months, and I’d love for you to paint a mural in the nursery. For our baby.”

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve

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aliasimagines · 3 years

Text

It Was You All Along // Dave Lizewski

requested by a lovely anon 💕

Can u write dave x fem!reader where reader Always had a crush on him but he kinda ignored reader bc of Katie but then someone popular asks reader out and he gets jealous and y/n dresses up super hot and he realizes he fucked up

word count: 1809

a/n: i hope this is close enough! ❤️ (i couldn't think of a different title but this one reminds me of Agatha All Along xd)

"Hey, Dave! My folks are gone for the weekend and I thought we could have an X-men watch party. Wanna come?"

"Sorry I can't, I'm hanging out with Katie."

"Again?" you ask a bit louder than intended,causing a few people to look at you in the hallway. You continue with a lower voice "Aren't you like, tired of all the lying? Like, what if she finds out that you're not actually gay, hm? Cause you know she will, eventually."

"Why do you care so much?!" Dave says, clearly frustrated.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Oh why would I? Maybe because we have been best friends since diapers, you stupid asshole!" you say not caring if some students hear you or not, anymore. "But you know what, you are right. I shouldn't care. Go play pretend with Katie but don't come to me, crying when you end up getting your heart broken."

"Don't worry, I won't." he snaps back. And you turn around and leave but not before flipping him off. You felt the angry tears rolling down your cheeks as you zigzagged between the chattering teenagers.

You couldn’t believe how Dave could be so blind! He only had eyes for Miss Perfect. Whom by the way, is a real bitch and would go back to ignoring Dave or calling him a freak if it wasn’t for his little gay act.

Somehow you made your way over to the restroom and locked yourself into one of the booths.

Dave couldn’t even see you as a potential “love-interest”. Eventhough you were the one who always were there for him, you were always there when he called, running to him like a lost puppy. And he couldn’t even care less. And you hate him for it. But you hate yourself more for still liking him.

It’s not like you can do something about it, if you could, you would have. But that’s not how it works, so you are just crying your guts out on the toilet trying not to think about Dave.

In all honesty, you have no idea how you made it through the day. You almost cried during biology but you caught yourself after a few lonely tears. You could feel Dave’s gaze on you but there was no way you would look at him. As soon as the last bell rang you were out of school, hurring past Tod and Marty, not being in the mood for them either.

The next day wasn’t any different, you didn’t hang with Dave, Tod and Marty like you normally do. You didn’t sit with them at lunch, instead walked over to the only empty table you saw and placed your tray there. You mounched on your food, completely unaware of your surroundings until you hear the chair next to you being pulled out. You look up to see Matthew Greendale, resident hottie of the school sit next to you.

"Hey, sorry, it's not a problem if I sit here, right?" he asks. You eyed him suspiciously.

"No, it's fine."

It's fine?! You mentally scold yourself. You never even spoke to this guy, outside of literature in first year. Why would he sit next to you?

"I didn't want to sit with all the other "popular jocks" he answered you unspoken question while taking a bite of his canteen-hamburger. “They’re fun and everything but it’s nice to get away from them sometimes.”

You think of your friends who are sitting a few tables away and you can’t help but agree with Matthew.

“Yeah, I feel you.” you say without thinking.

“Hey..We used to sit next to each other in freshman year, didn’t we? It’s y/n ,right?”

You nod with a smile, honestly being surprised that he remembers you.

“Yeah!”

“I haven’t really seen you around a lot. But when I do you are always hanging with those comic book nerds.”

“Hey! Comics are great.”

He puts his hands up in a defense.

“Oh no! I didn’t mean it as an insult. Some comics are good, my little brother made read one last month. It was actually great.”

“What comic was it?”

“Oh, uhm..It was about some kind of blind dude in a devil costume.”

“Daredevil?” you ask with a giggle.

“Yes, that one!” he laughs too.

The two of you continue talking until the end of lunch break. He is surprisingly fun to talk to and he even offers to walk you to your next class after lunch. You had such a good time you didn’t even think about Dave, heck, you didn’t even notice him literally glaring daggers into Matthew.

“What’s up with you, dude?” Tod asks snapping Dave out of it.

“Yeah, Dave. What the shit is going on with you and Y/N?” Marty asks too.

Dave forrows is eyebrows. Yes, what the shit is going on with the two of you? Every since yesterday's 'fight' with you he can't stop thinking. About how he spends most, if not all of his time either with being Kick-Ass or, rather with Katie. It used to be different. He spent every second with you and he just threw you away so he could maybe get laid. And sure, Katie may be hot as fuck but she is.. Well, she is not you.

"We had a fight, yesterday. I.. And she was right." he explains with a grimace. "But why the fuck is that Greendale asshole is with her?"

"You jealous or something, dude?"

"Wha- Of course I am not jealous! Why would I be? You guys are nuts."

Jealous… The word rolled around in his mouth like a new flavored milkshake he never tasted before.

Could he be… Jealous? He never thought of you that way, you were always his best friend. Just that. But.. The more he thinks about it the more he can't stop that twist like feeling in his stomach.

That night he can't focus on crime fighting. All his thoughts are tied to you. Whether he likes it or not, memories of you keep popping up in his mind. How didn't he notice your beautiful smile before? And your laugh? It's like a beautiful melody. And… Gosh! When did he become such a sappy teenager? Oh and another thing.. He kept trying to think of something else, anything else like Katie for example but he doesn't care anymore!

Dave goes home early with a frustrated growl. The remaining hours of the night he spends with tossing and turning and daydreaming instead of sleeping.

(the next afternoon, Atomic Comics)

Dave bangs his head against the wood table once again. A tired groan leaves his lips when he hears Tod almost choking on his iced coffee.

"What the tunk, Tod?" Marty and Dave ask almost at the same time. The dirty blonde haired boy keeps pointing outside the huge window that they are sitting next to at Atomic Comics.

"Is that fucking y/n?!"

Now all three of them look outside the shop and see you, all dressed up nad seemingly waiting for someone.

"Holy fuck!" Dave whispers. He stares at you, with his mouth a gap before jumping up from the booth they were sitting at and rushing outside the store.

"Y/n! Y/-" he yells almost tripping on thin air.

"Dave?" you question, quickly turning towards him. Damn, you missed him. No! Yeah, you did… "What do you want?"

"What do I- What, can't I talk to you?"

"If you wanted to talk you would have in these past days!" you say. Yes, you might have missed him, but it's not like you're gonna show it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am waiting for my date to show up."

"Your.. Your what, now?!"

"My date"

"You can't go on a date!"

"And why is that, Lizewski?"

"Lizewski? Really, you're calling me by my surname? Are we in such a bad place right now?"

"I don't know, you tell me. Are you going to tell me what i can and can't do, hm?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just…"

"What, it's fine when you say it but when I do it with you about Katie I'm the bad friend?"

"No,it's just-"

"Sorry. Matt's here." you point to the street across the road where you saw the boy walk towards you. "I gotta go."

You start walking away but Dave grabs your wrist.

"Please, don't." he mumbles.

"Why not?" you snap at him but your expressions soften upon your eyes land on his saddened face.

"I- because I don't want you with him. O-or anyone."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

He took a deep breath before looking around. Matt was waiting patiently by the traffic light so he could cross the road. Dave quickly began explaining.

"You were right. About Katie. I was such a dickhead, I am so sorry, y/n. I am sorry for ignoring you over her and and.." from the corner of his eye he sees the traffic light turn green. "Shit! I don't want you to go out with Greendale cause I.. Because I like you. Like really fucking like you. And oh my god you look so fucking hot in this outfit, not that you're not always hot but holy shit. I know we are just friends and you don't think of me that way but I ju-"

"Oh my god! Do you ever shut up?" you yell before pressing your lips to his. Dave stumbled back a little, but quickly recovered and kissed back. Your hands cupped his face and his hands grabbed your waist in response. You both tilled your heads, deepening the kiss earning loud knocking from Marty and Tod as they watched the whole scene through the window. Not that you noticed any of it. You didn't hear the passing by car honk at you nor the yells or whistles. You also did not notice Matthew walking away with a sad smile after seeing the two of you. Your touches intertwine and you're pretty sure you heard Dave moan slightly which causes you to giggle into the kiss. You both pull away gasping for air. You look down at your shoes, hoping to hide your flushed cheeks. Dave scratches his back and looks around nervously only to see his two idiotic friends making kissy faces. He lifts his middle finger for them before clearing his throat.

"So.. Khm.. I guess you like me too?"

You let out a soft chuckle.

"Yeah, I do." you say looking at him with a smile.

"That's.. Fuck. That's great." he replied genuinely happy. "Wanna get out of here?"

You nod and you take off. You take Dave's hand and he intertwines your fingers with a smile. Maybe he is truly a superhero. He helps people and he gets the girl of his dreams. The happy ending.

Dave Lizewski taglist : @sethcohenluvr @your-hispanichufflepuff

#dave lizewski x reader #Dave lizewski one shot #dave lizewski imagine #kick ass imagine #kick ass x reader #kick ass one shot #gif not mine #aaron taylor johnson #alias imagines

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sukifans · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 1k!!! Can you do number 9 from 50 cliché promts and tropes with mako x reader? :)

MAKO + “there’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling”

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

“Well, this is... unfortunate.”

“It’s unacceptable.” You glanced at Mako, who was visibly irritated. “First Beifong only approves one room because of ‘budget cuts,’ and now we’re expected to share a bed?”

“Relax, tough guy. I’m sure it was just a booking error. I’ll go talk to the receptionist.” You left your partner and your bag in the room with the single large bed against the wall to go downstairs and sort out the mistake. You gave the man at the desk your friendliest smile as you approached.

“Hello again,” the man said, looking up at you. “Is there a problem with the room?”

“Yes, actually. We should’ve been booked for a room with two beds but there’s only one. Could we be moved somewhere else?” You tried to sound as amicable as possible as you spoke, hoping the employee would oblige.

He flipped through the large book of records in front of him and traced his finger down a page. “Ah, yes! You reserved a double. So sorry about that—let me see what else is available.” You watched as he flipped through again, mumbling to himself. Your smile faltered a little when he frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“It appears everything else is filled for the night. I’m terribly sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.” The man eyed you as if expecting you to blow up at him, but you just sighed and tightened your smile.

“Ah, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Thank you for checking, though.”

Mako was not gonna be happy.

“You’re joking,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest. You dropped down to sit on the edge of the problematic bed itself. “Are you and Beifong trying to pull a prank or something?”

You stared up at him. “Beifong? A prank? Really?”

“Okay, no,” he huffed. “But you’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you think it’s funny to inconvenience me?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mako.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking.”

He groaned and threw himself in the threadbare armchair in the corner of the room. “Great, just what I needed,” he grumbled to himself.

“Hey, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either!” You rolled your eyes. “If you’re gonna freak out about it you can take the bed and I’ll just... sleep on the floor or something.”

“No, no. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“How noble,” you laughed. “You’re the one who has a problem sleeping with me. Take the bed.”

“I—” His cheeks tinged a slight pink that didn’t escape your notice. “I don’t have a problem.”

“You sure seem to.”

“I shared a blanket with Bolin on the street for most of my childhood.”

“You must be getting spoiled with that detective salary if you can’t rough it for one night and share a bed with your favorite partner. Going soft?”

You grinned when he glared at you. “Why are you torturing me?”

“You’re easy to torture.” You stood up to rifle through your bag. “And it’s fun.”

“I’m requesting a partner transfer when we finish this assignment,” he muttered, making you bark out a laugh.

“You wouldn’t, you’re too attached now.” You straightened up with your arms full of toiletries and clean clothes. “I’m gonna go wash up so I can pass out. Early day tomorrow, and all. Catchin’ bad guys, kickin’ ass, takin’ names.”

“Uh-huh.” A small smile finally graced his handsome face for the first time since arriving at the inn. “I’ll be here keeping watch—y’know, for the bad guys.”

Once you’d scrubbed off the long day of travel and changed into clean, comfortable clothes you reentered the main room to see Mako studying the files for the case the two of you were working. His eyebrows were set into a furrow as he read through it and chewed at the inside of his cheek absently. You watched him for a few more moments once you settled down onto the worn but comfortable mattress. Something in the papers seemed to perplex him as he wrinkled his nose and flipped back a few pages. Suddenly, his warm orange eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked with a small frown.

You shrugged. “Trying to figure out if that smell is the room or just you.”

His frown deepened. “Uncalled for.”

You hummed noncommitally and snuggled down between the sheets. “Go clean up so I can sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he said, snapping the file shut and rising from the chair.

“I gotta keep watch, remember? Bad guys,” you murmured despite your heavy eyelids. Mako shook his head and disappeared into the bathroom. The gentle, steady sound of running water lulled you into a drifting sleep after only a few minutes.

You roused slightly when Mako returned, shuffling around the room followed by curling steam and the smell of his soap from the bathroom. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter and tried to fall back asleep until you felt him grab a pillow off the other side of the bed. Rolling onto your side you sleepily looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” He stood next to a blanket on the floor with the pillow in his hand, dressed in a clean white shirt and loose pants. “I was just getting set up over here.”

You squinted at the pillow he held while your tired mind tripped over itself trying to catch up. “What?”

“I told you I’d sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing to his makeshift sleeping area.

You blinked slowly at him. “Mako.”

“Yeah?”

“Get in the bed.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t asking,” you interrupted. “Come. To. Bed.”

He flushed lightly and opened and closed his mouth a couple times before looking down at his pillow he srill gripped. “I—I don’t want to make you... uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” you repeated blankly and he nodded. “I put my life in your hands every day, Mako. I trust you, probably more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. You’re not gonna make me uncomfortable. In fact, I’d be a thousand times more comfortable with you up here than on the floor.”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, finally moving back towards the bed. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good.” You closed your eyes again and yawned loudly. “The mattress is big enough we can both stay on our sides, no big deal. You need to rest well so I know you’re alert enough to save my ass tomorrow and sleeping on the floor does not reassure me.”

“I already agreed, you don’t need to keep working at me.” Mako carefully slid into the sheets, being almost calculating in how close he could stay to the edge without falling off. Even with the considerable empty space between you, you could still feel his familiar warmth seeping into your tired muscles.

“‘M a detective, can’t help it.”

“Go to sleep. You’ll have plenty of time to harass me in the morning.”

“You know you love me.”

If only you knew, he thought to himself as you slipped back into your dreamland.

The first thing you noticed upon regaining consciousness was the thumping rhythm next to your ear. The next thing you noticed was how warm you felt, despite the sheets being tangled down around your feet. You turned your head and buried your face into your pillow, inhaling deeply.

Soap. And smoke.

Hold on. You lifted your head up slowly and blinked blearily, taking in where you were as your brain whirred back to life.

Not your pillow. Mako—his chest, more specifically. Your eyes trailed down to where your bodies were pressed together in a tangle of limbs. The arm wrapped around you ended in fingers pressing into your waist. Your thigh was hiked up around his hip and his knee was slotted between your legs. You looked up at his face to see he was still sound asleep, lips parted as he breathed slowly.

You sat up all the way and his hand on your waist flopped down onto the bed. “Mako.”

He snorted and gave no other response.

“Mako,” you hissed, smacking his chest lightly. Without opening his eyes, he grabbed your hand and yanked you back down.

“Don’ hit me,” he grumbled, lips brushing your forehead as he spoke. “‘M sleepin’.”

Your face was starting to burn. “Well, wake up!”

He cracked one eye open to peer down at you and closed it again with a sniff. All at once it seemed to hit him and his eyes flew open as he shot upwards, knocking you to the side. You groaned as he launched himself out of the bed and onto his feet.

“What time is it?!” he barked.

“I don’t know!”

He whipped his head around to look at the clock on the bedside table. He made a small noise of panic and snatched it up as if getting a closer look would change the reading it gave.

“Fuck, we’re late!”

thank you for the request! i hope you enjoyed it! it ended up being way longer than i thought it would be lol. i guess i’ll tag my atla list and the people who wanted to be tagged in my full mako fic lol

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @blazedbakugou @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula @wooscottoncandyhair @chewymoustachio @ohno-caroline @sunflowerr-mami @1vitamin @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @u-4iia @nymeria-targaryen @tommy-braccoli @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @a-sloppy-bitch

REQUESTED TAGS: @ur-jinji @maruchan77 @songofgratitude @missturtleduck @zuko-is-the-sun @xxspqcebunsxx @atlabeth @malauri-lynn @sadskater25 @biqherosix @goodandevil18 @theeavtrkyoshi @miyonii @mcallmestiles @zutaraisendgamee @unketh @shortmexicangirl @keysvdssstuff @simmantha

#mako x reader #mako x you #mako x y/n #lok x reader #tlok x reader #mako fluff #mako imagine #atla x reader #mako fanfic #mako fic #legend of korra #avatar: the legend of korra #mine #lok fanfic

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