#i fucked up my left ankle on friday so i used my ankle brace that i use on my RIGHT ankle on it today

[lvrsparadise]

'LUCKY' - M.S

synopsis - She's just lucky.

warnings! - Car accidents, kissing, angst, a wedding, profanity, this is the version of 'Fourth of July' where Y/N survives.

A/N - Thank you so much to @lizzzzz333 for putting this idea in my head. I love you for that. Hope this mends the hearts I broke with the original. ♡♡

I stand up from my spot on the couch and stretch.

I check the time on my phone and it's almost 3, me and Matt decided to go to dinner at 7.

"I should head home to get ready." I walk to the kitchen where Matt is sitting at the table and give him a kiss before walking to the front door and putting my shoes one. I yell out a 'bye love out' before walking out the door and to my car.

I was at a red light, one of the only cars on the road. I hear tires screeching from my left, and suddenly an old car is driving full speed. Right at me.

Next thing I know, I'm being tossed around and I'm pretty sure my car is rolling. Then everything goes black.

----

I'm waking up, with many bright lights in my face.

I groan at the brightness of the lights and try to move my hand to block it, but I'm met with a sharp pain from my right hand.

"Y/N?!"

"M-Matt?" My throat is dry, and my voice is hoarse when I speak.

My body feels numb, and like it's on fire all at the same time. My legs hurt, my entire right arm hurts, my head is pounding, I think I'm in a neck brace, even breathing kind of hurts.

I try to turn my head to look at Matt, but I'm met with another pain, but from my neck.

"What happened? Why does everything hurt?"

"Y/N, baby. You were in a car accident."

That's when it all hits me.

I was at a red light, and some guy was driving full speed towards me.

I cough, and it hurts. Bad.

"Fuck."

Everything hurts.

"You're going to be okay. The- the doctor said you'll make a full recovery."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I can hear the tears in his voice. I can feel tears on my own face. I can also very distantly feel Matt's hand holding my right one.

"So, I guess our date's postponed, huh?" I try to crack a joke and laugh at it but end up coughing.

I hear a quiet chuckle from Matt.

"Yeah." His voice sounds quiet, defeated, and almost as hoarse as mine.

"Do Nick and Chris know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I called them as soon as I got here."

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours. Nick and Chris are packing overnight bags for us and are going to stop by your place and get you a few things."

"That sounds great. I'm really thirsty. Like really, really thirsty."

I hear another chuckle from beside me and hear the chair he was sitting in creak as he stands up and walks towards the room door. Yelling out of it for a doctor and a nurse.

Now a doctor is standing over me, shining another really bright light in my eyes.

"Can you like not? My eyes hurt."

"Of course. I just need you to answer a few questions for me."

The nurse is adjusting my bed so I'm sitting up. And I can see Matt's face for the first time since I woke up. God am I glad to see his face.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Friday."

"The date?"

"July 4th, 2022."

"Very good. What's your name?"

"Y/N M/N L/N."

"And what's his name?" He points his pen to Matt.

"Matthew Sturniolo. My boyfriend."

"Excellent. Do you know what happened to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Uh, I had just left Matt's house to get ready for our date and I was at a red light and some guy was driving full speed towards me."

"Alright. You have a broken shoulder, and wrist in your right arm. A sprained elbow on your left. Broke your collarbone. Shattered one of your kneecaps, twisted an ankle, broke the other one. And broke some ribs. You should make a full recovery within the next few months. I'm Dr. Singler and this is Nurse Bowen."

"Nice to meet you. No wonder everything hurts."

"If you need anything, press this button." The nurse points to a button on the armrest on the left side of the hospital bed.

I nod my head and watch as they walk out. I shift my eyes to Matt to look at him. His eyes are red and puffy from crying, tears tracks staining his cheeks. His brown hair disheveled from him probably running his hands through it.

I crack a smile, or the best attempt at a smile I can.

"Hi."

A tearfilled chuckle leaves his mouth.

"Hi. You look so pretty."

"Really? Because I feel like shit."

"I'm sure." He leans over me and kisses my forehead gently.

"Do you think it's possible to have an engagement party in a hospital?"

I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Another chuckle.

"Wait. Matt?"

He reaches into his jeans pocket and grabs out a small object, holding it up to my face. Not just any object. No. A ring.

"Matt..."

A smile takes over his features.

"Y/N, will you be my wife?"

"Matt. Yes. I would love to." I nod my head the best I can with the neck brace, without causing any pain.

--

After about an hour and a half of watching the TV and talking, Nick and Chris walk through the door.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you're okay."

I roll my eyes.

"I love you too Nick."

I look at Chris after Nick hugs me the best he can, and his eyes are also red. Well, all of their eyes are red and puffy.

"I'm okay Chris."

I can almost see him deflate in relief.

"How did you survive?" A wave of sadness washes over me at how broken, and quiet Chris's voice is.

Truth is, I don't know how I survived. I guess. it was just luck.

"I guess I'm just lucky."

"God. Don't do that ever again." He moves to me and just about smothers me with how close he's hugging me.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I don't want to see them sad ever again after this. It hurts me how sad each of them look. Although Matt looks better from when I first laid my eyes on him earlier. But Nick and Chris, mainly Chris, look drained. Empty. But now better. As if seeing me made them instantly better.

Sniffles are all that's heard throughout the room, other than Friends, which is playing on the TV.

After a few episodes, the nurse from earlier, Nurse Bowen, walks back in. With a cart that has food on it.

Now that I think about it. I'm really hungry.

"I assumed you guys would be hungry."

"Yeah, no thank you." Nick smiles at the nurse and takes the cart from her so she can continue with her work and rolls it over to the bed.

"One of you is going to have to feed me. I can't move my arms."

"Not it." Chris and Nick say in unison, putting a finer n the tis of their noses, both looking at Matt, who just shakes his head with a chuckle.

--

After we've all eaten and gotten comfortable, it just quiets down in the room, all of us doing something.

Nick and Chris are on the pull-out by the window, and Matt cozied up next to me on the bed the best he can without getting in the way of any medical equipment or hurting me.

But really, just having him next to me is more than enough.

"This is not how I expected our 1 year to go."

"Me neither. But at least now you're my Fiancée."

I look at the ring he put on my left hand, with a smile.

"Yeah."

----

It took exactly 3 months for me to recover. But throughout the whole process, I had so many people by my side. So many.

Matt, his brothers, his parents, Nate, Laura, Madi, and Sab were all next to me the whole time.

Matt never once left my side. The only time he did, was to film a video with his brothers.

Wasn't the best process, but it led me here, sitting in the living room at Marylou and Jimmy house with Matt, picking out a venue for our wedding.

"I like the one that had the big window."

"Of course, you do dad."

"Oh wait, what about this one?" I click on the images of the venue.

It's outside, on the beach. Not too far from the house and has great scenery.

"I think I like this one more than the other outdoor option!"

"Me too."

I turn my head to look at Matt, who is currently analyzing the computer screen with the images of the beach venue.

"What do you think about it?"

"I think, that this one might take the cake for me." He turns his head and look at me as well, a smile on his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it would match with the theme we want. Wouldn't it?"

I look at the screen again.

"Yeah. It would."

"So, is that the one?"

I turn my head to Marylou, who's sitting on my right, and smile.

"Yeah. This is the one."

"Perfect!"

--------

Took a whole year of planning, but it's finally time. Today is the biggest day of my life.

We're all staying at a hotel near the beach, and we're all divided into groups. The bridesmaids, maid of honor, and flower girl with me, and the best man and groomsmen with Matt.

Currently, people are running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to make sure everything is as it should be.

Sab, my maid of honor and best friend, is currently helping me into my dress. The ceremony starts in 2 and a half hours, and everyone is ready, but me.

After a lot of pulling on strings and adjusting stuff, my dress is fully on. And it feels different than when I tried it on in the shop. Way different.

After I get my makeup done and get accessorized, 30 minutes is left until the biggest moment ever.

Matt's dad is going to walk me down the aisle, seeing as I don't know my family, and I'm so nervous.

"Y/N, calm down!"

"I can't help it! Sab, I'm about to get married, I can't calm down. I'm jittery, nervous, and happy as fuck."

"I know. But can you at least try to calm down for me?"

I nod and look at the bouquet Matt and Sab picked out for me. Purple tiger lilies, red roses, and white tulips. I pick it up and hold it in front of me as I would walking down the aisle. Trying to find the best way to do it.

--

20 minutes go by and I'm getting more and more nervous. Sab left to touch up on herself and make sure all of the bridesmaids were ready as well. I've had to sit on my hands, so I don't start biting my freshly painted nails.

Doin' Time by Lana Del Rey is playing throughout the room, but the music is not helping me calm down. I take a few deep breaths before standing back up and re-checking my appearance in the wall-length mirrors.

I don't even want to think about what would've happened if I had died in that crash I was in back in July last year. But I didn't. And I'm so happy I didn't.

After about 5 or 6 minutes, the door opens and Marylou walks in.

"Sweetie, you look stunning."

"Thank you."

"God I can't believe you're going to be my daughter in-law. Now come on, get your veil on, grab your bouquet, and let's get this show on the road."

"Yes ma'am."

I smile at her as she puts my veil on me, which is actually her veil. It's my 'something borrowed'. I stand up and grab my bouquet, and look at myself in the mirror before walking out of the room I was in.

I'm immediately greeted by Jimmy, who looks like he's about to cry.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." I nod my head and link my right arm with his left arm. Marylou quickly walks to her seat, just as the music starts.

My stomach is doing acrobatics right now. My heart is pounding, and I feel no, so nervous. But in the best way possible.

As we walk the aisle, I see so many amazing people I met within the past two years in LA. I'm so glad I moved out here with them.

Finally, we make it to my soon-to-be husband, and Jimmy moves to his spot next to his wife.

I hand my bouquet to Sab and the officiant starts going on with the basics of the ceremony.

"Do you, Y/N M/N L/N, take Matthew Bernard Sturniolo as your lawful wedded husband?"

We all chuckle and make faces at Matt's middle name.

I nod and smile.

"I do."

"Do you, Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, take Y/N M/N L/N as your lawful wedded wife?"

"God yes. I do."

A tear falls down my face. I can't believe this is happening.

"You may kiss the bride."

His hands grab my waist at lightning speed, and we lean into what might possibly be the best kiss ever.

Everyone cheers and claps, but it's all faint. It feels like the first kiss all over again. Like we're back in his room in LA.

We pull back and turn to everyone with smiles.

I didn't really get to observe Matt while we were saying our vows, but now that I am, wow he looks good.

In a classic tux with the vest and everything. He kept his earrings in and his necklace on as well. Who knew him becoming my husband would make him look so much better?

Being here, and seeing him, makes me realize just how lucky I am.

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @prettysturniolo ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask !! ✮

I love all of you guys !

And I hope you all have a wonderful day and / or night ✮

#l writes! #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #omg #crying tears of happiness rn

[monkeydlesbian]

BARKING EXTREMELY LOUDLY AND AGGRESSIVELY.

#RFASHGRHAGARGAFAARARRAGRGEGSGS #IM SO€¥%++>*%£%+>*>£%£>£> #I HÂTE SCHOOL SOCCER I HATE IT #I FUCKING HATE IT #i fucked up my left ankle on friday so i used my ankle brace that i use on my RIGHT ankle on it today #and in the fall i sprained my right ankle so it’s still kinda weak #so i had NO support on my right ankle at practice tonight and WHADDYA KNOWWWWW #WHAT DO YOU KNOW. I FUCKED MY RIGHT ANKLE UP AGAIN #so i went to the AT and got it wrapped and i CONTINUED TO PLAY with both of my ankles messed up #and you know what???????? #i walked up to my coach today & was like ‘so i ran 3 miles like u said this weekend. but sat my ankle was swollen & hurting so i didn’t run’ #‘but i ran on sunday and i did 1.5 miles in the morning and 1.5 miles in the evening but it was TERRIBLE and my time and pace were bad’ #AND YOU KNOW WHAT SHE SAID TO ME????? #SHE SAID ‘well if it starts to hurt in anything we do today let me know’ #IM SO????) IM SO TIRED???? JESUS CHRIST #and we still have 1.5 miles again tomorrow that i have to run with two messed up ankles #i’m literally gonna do terrible i just #i’m gonna do horrible i can’t do this #ok rant over how are we doing today #tw: all caps #tw: medical #i guess

[lauryn-order]

Today was not my day.

I only got 2.5 hours of sleep, leaving me with a massive headache. The dog I'm watching whined loudly for 3.5 hours straight, even when he got comfy with me, because he's not used to being without his mom. Not so helpful.

Nor is my body being in extreme pain, having a blister on my ankle, and a fucked up toenail when I have to walk this dog 4x/day.

I get my fingers tattooed on the 23rd, but this dog plays rough and accidentally bites and digs into me and I'm scared he's going to fuck my fingers up before/after my appointment.

This apartment has hella bad vibes and energy, creeps me tf out, and I'm stuck here until the 25th.

7 years ago I did some bad cocaine on my trauma anniversary. It left me sick af for a week and I woke up the next morning with holes in my teeth. Since then I've been embarrassed and beyond terrified to go to the dentist, and time + neglect due to my depression means it's gotten much worse. I've put it off as long as I could and haven't been to the dentist in 8 or 9 years, but today was the finally the day.

So you can imagine the panic attack I've been having since yesterday.

I need 6 crowns and then other work done on multiple other teeth. If I'm reading the treatment plan right, I need work done on 16 teeth. 16. I've never had anything done to my teeth other than braces and my wisdom teeth removed and now I have to get 16 worked on. I'm scared as hell.

I have to go back on Friday for a deep cleaning and some treatments. It's the only non-semi-sedated part and I'm so scared. It freaks me out to open my mouth in general let alone have people stare at it.

How much does that all cost? Why only $9,100 after insurance, all at once.

Remember that panic attack? Increase it by 100.

To top it all off? Tonight I stepped in an ant pile while taking the dog out before he went to bed.

There were some positives though.

I did it. I finally did it after all these years.

I told them how my teeth problems started and that I’m embarrassed and anxious of dental work. The dentist and hygienist were both super nice, comforting and I feel as comfortable as possible with them.

Baby took me to my appointment so I got to see her for the 1st time since Thursday and holy shit. She’s always beautiful, but today she was extra wow. I can’t believe she’s real. She helped calm me down and was willing to only see me while driving and then sit in a parking garage for an hour waiting. I have lots of emotions about it. (But also now I miss her even more so it was a mixed blessing that I'm still so grateful for.)

#I just want to be held #and loved #and drunk #and home #and with my cat #and my baby #and I just can't ya know #it's too much #mine #dentist

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten VI

Hello beautiful readers. I know many of you are itching for the next installment of these two.

Enjoy x

Tag list: Tag list: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard​

Kylo Ren AU x reader

Warning ⚠️NSFW, semi public sex, sub/dom dynamic, phone sex, mentions of sugar dad

dies, Daddy kink (come on it was a matter of time kids).

I googled you.

You stared at the txt message from Kylo with a frown. Your mind instantly driving off the deep end and wondering what fresh hell he had found.

You quickly typed your name into google and scrolled through the first screen. Nothing exciting, the gallery website, a few videos of presentations you had done, some academic papers and art reviews. 

You exhaled and sipped your tea, typing back a reply. 

Should I be concerned? 

Far from it. I watched your presentations. They were very good. 

Warmth bloomed in your chest. 

Thank you. But weren’t you bored to tears? 

No, I like art. And the skirts you wear. 

Ah. 

I hope you weren’t having inappropriate thoughts at work again, Doctor. Control yourself. You can’t see but I am rolling my eyes ;)

Would you and your skirt like to come for the weekend?

My skirt and I would. Are you going to collect me from the gallery? I can show you around like we talked about?

Yes, see you tomorrow, Kitten. 

—-

You found yourself glancing at the clock and your phone every 5 minutes after 5pm. 

Last weekend had seemed like both a turning point and a reset, in whatever this relationship with Kylo was. You knew about each other now. Mostly surface level, although Kylo was proving to be a very layered and complex individual. 

You had googled him, finally, last night. The results were mainly work related, impressive reviews and accolades amongst photos from upmarket social gatherings. Many images of him in suits, that made your mouth go dry. 

Your office phone rang, making you jump out of your skin. 

“Ma’am I have a Mr Ren here, saying you are expecting him?”

You glanced at the clock, a lot earlier than you had expected him.

“Yes I am, you can let him in, thanks.” You said to the head of security. They would have been starting to close for the day at the front entrance. 

There was a knock at your door. 

“Come in.” 

Kylo walked in with a little smile, surveying your office, and then you, at your desk. You looked at him over the frames of your reading glasses, your lips curling into a smile.

He walked over to you wordlessly, you stood up to meet him, reaching for him. 

“Hi” you breathed, pecking his lips. 

“Hello my Kitten” he said softly, resting his lips on your forehead. 

“I’ve still got a few emails to reply to.” You sighed, sagging against chest.

“I don’t mind, I promise I won’t distract you.” 

The little smirk on his face told you otherwise.

He proceeded to sit in your desk chair and pat his lap, “come be a good girl and finish your work.” 

Your inner sub purred. 

You sat on his lap, he circled your waist and pulled you back so you were flush against him, your feet unable to touch the floor.

He lowered the office chair so it would fit under the desk.

You had to lean forward to use the keyboard and mouse, your bottom pressing into his groin. 

God help me you thought, looking at the 10 unread emails in your inbox. 

You opened the first one, as his hand slid under your blouse. You struggled to read the text as he unclipped your bra and his hands cupped your breasts, squeezing gently. 

You cursed under your breath before hitting reply, you could feel his cock hardening beneath you. 

“Your heart is beating very fast.” he murmured, nuzzling into your neck, thumbs rubbing your nipples gently.

“Gee, i wonder why.” you deadpanned, as your fingers flew across the keyboard.

He tutted, “Attitude, Kitten, don’t be a brat.” before tweaking both of your nipples and making you squeak.

“How many emails do you need to reply to?” Kylo asked. 

“10.”

“I want you to count them down as you reply.”

“Yes Sir, 1.” you said as you hit send. 

By email 5 you were hot and bothered. Kylo was whispering praises with a rough voice as you typed. 

“Stand up.” he instructed, as you hit send on email 5.

You did as you were told, you heard him shuffling behind you, the zip of his fly, before his hands snaked around your front and undid your trousers, pulling everything down to your knees.

“Come, sit back down, on my cock.” His voice sounded strained as he guided your hips to the position.

You moaned softly as the head of his cock prodded your entrance. He pulled you down, with a groan, until you were seated back on his lap, stuffed full. “JesusfuckingChrist.” you whined.

“No moving until you are done with your work.” he breathed, nibbling the shell of your ear. 

“You are cruel.” you hissed, before opening email number 6.

He chuckled darkly, before running his hands back up your blouse. 

By email 10 you were seeing double, clenching around him to spite him. 

“You little devil.” he hissed in your ear before groaning as you squeezed as hard as you could. 

You hummed smugly as you typed. Hoping the recipients didn’t judge the plethora of grammatical errors too harshly.  

“10!” you announced, as you hit send.

He stood up so fast you would have face planted into the desk, had he not been gripping your hips. 

You braced yourself on the desk as he drew out and slammed back into you, so hard you were half winded.

“Fuck, this fucking pussy drives me wild.” he growled, the previous restraint evaporating as he began to piston into you. 

God bless the solid oak of your desk, had it been flimsy, everything would surely be on the floor. 

“Do you know how fucking, goddamn, sexy you look, sitting at this desk, hmm?” he hissed. 

You could only whimper in response, your brain turning to mush.

“I swear to god, you are going to kill me.” he was borderline babbling now, his thrusts slightly erratic as his orgasm built. 

“Sir-.. Kylo-...fuck, i need-”

“Cum on my cock Kitten.” he gritted out. 

Like a good little sub, you did just that, whimpering, white-knuckling the edge of the desk as you climaxed.

He soon followed with a string of curses, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips. 

You were utterly boneless when he pulled out, staying bent over the desk with your trousers, now at your ankles. 

His lips on the small of your back brought you back to earth. He pulled up your trousers, and you laughed as you stood up, legs wobbly. 

“Jesus Christ Doc.” you teased, turning to face him as you buttoned up your trousers, “now i’m going to have your cum dripping out of me for the entire tour.”

“A dangerous thing to say to me Kitten.” Kylo smirked, taking your face in his hands and kissing you softly. 

You smiled against his lips. 

--

You took him around the gallery, hand in hand. 

“Tell me if you are getting bored.” you urged, running your hand down his chest. You had just finished a long spiel about the large Kandinsky painting, that was your personal favorite. 

He had a soft smile on his face the whole time as his eyes flicked from you to the painting. 

“Watching you talk so passionately will never be boring to me.” he murmured, “you look radiant, beautiful, i could watch it all day.”

You couldn’t help beaming up at him, heart fluttering. 

You were still beaming as security let you out the front doors.

“Night boss.” The guard said cheerily as he shut the door behind you both.

“Who would have thought my little Kitten would be a big bad boss.” Kylo teased, as you walked down the steps.

You scoffed, “ha! Hardly! I like to think I am nice, thank you very much.”

He smacked your ass lightly, chuckling.

“Also I am hungry!” You announced, “so watch out.” You looked at him, through narrowed eyes.

He rolled his eyes, but was smiling at you fondly, “let’s get you fed then.”

You hummed happily as you came to his car, pausing to reach for his face for a kiss.

--

The weekend slipped by in the blink of an eye.

It was becoming increasingly harder, with every passing week to return to your home, alone. 

You had finally convinced Kylo to stay at your place the next coming weekend. You had a feeling that it was a big deal (to him) to come to your home. He was giving over some of the control. Control made him feel safe - or so you theorized. 

Your phone lit up on Wednesday night as you were crawling into bed. 

I have a charity function on Friday night, would you like to be my date? It will probably be boring but less so with you there. 

Wow, really selling it to me there Dr Ren. But yes, i will be your date ;) I hope you will be wearing a suit. I like you in a suit.

I will be wearing a suit, Kitten, just for you. Can i buy you a dress? 

You smilled to yourself, biting your lower lip.

Are you going to be my sugar daddy now? ;) You can get me one, if you really want to, Daddy.

You saw the little dots that indicated he was typing stop and start for almost a minute.

Then your phone rang. 

“Hello” you purred softly.

“Kitten.” his voice was a bit hoarse. 

“Mmmm?” 

“What are you doing right now?”

“Sitting in bed.”

“and what are you wearing?”

“A tee. That’s all.”

He made a strained noise.

“Is your cock hard for me?” You purred. “Wish I could take you in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” He hissed, you could hear a rustling sound as he put you on loud speaker.

You did the same, laying back against your pillows.

“Why are you all hot and bothered.” You asked innocently.

“Your. message.” He gritted out. You had no doubt he was fisting his cock.

“What about my message, was it when I called you Daddy?” You breathed, gasping as you grazed your clit.

The moan that crackled through the phone was confirmation enough. You rummaged in your bedside cupboard for your vibrator as your pussy throbbed relentlessly.

“What are you doing Kitten?”

“Getting my vibrator, I want to touch my pussy, Daddy, please let me touch it.” You whined.

“Sofuckinghotwhenyoutalklikethatfuck.” He babbled, struggling to play along.

“Dadddddddddy, please!”

“Touch that sweet little cunt baby, I want to hear.” He rumbled, you could here his little pants of exertion as he pumped himself hard.

A loud moan ripped out of your throat as you pushed the wand to your clit, pleasure shooting through your body.

“Daddy— oh fuck— I! I’m not going to last long!” You whimpered, back arching off the bed as you kept the wand pressed to your clit.

“That’s ok Kitten, let me hear those pretty noises when you cum, let Daddy hear them” he urged.

You cried out as you began to climax, surprising even yourself how fast you were over the edge.

A slew of cursing and groans came through the phone, suggesting that Kylo was in the same boat.

You lay, panting. The phone line was silent.

“Want me to call you Daddy next time we fuck?” You asked with a little laugh.

“Fuck yes i do.” He rasped.

—

#fan fiction #filth and smut #kylo ren au #kylo ren x reader #reader x kylo #smutbucket #kitten

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 10

I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS PART 10! Have we even been doing this a month, @what-does-mine-say? Anyway, I was going to wait a little while longer to post this because I feel like I’m spoiling you all (jk jk, I love spoiling you because you spoil me), but I’m too excited. I love this part. There’s so much tension and just - unf. Also, don’t worry, @lancearcherinrippedjeans - I haven’t forgotten about dear Chuckie. It will be addressed :) 

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 10/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Alcohol use, language, angst

Word Count: 4.5k

Catch up on previous parts here.

Alex rummaged through her walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear to Adam and Callie’s cookout. She’d decided to go, after all. If nothing else, she needed a distraction.

Kenny hadn’t gotten back to the hotel room until after 1 a.m. on Friday. Alex had stayed up waiting for him until the anxiety of it had become too much, so she’d taken a hot shower to calm her nerves and gone to bed. He’d woken her up as he’d crawled in beside her and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck as he’d apologized for not returning sooner. It’d taken a long time for her to fall back asleep after that, her mind racing with the day’s events all over again. In the morning, she’d woken him up with kisses and climbed on top of him, riding him deep and slow. Looking for the reassurance she hadn’t gotten the day before. It had worked in the moment. But it hadn’t lasted.

“No, no, definitely not,” she said as she went through each piece of clothing. She didn’t like the look of anything today. It was going to be hot—it was summer in Virginia, after all—and she wanted to look cute but still casual. She got to her dresses and frowned; she didn’t want to wear a dress. But then she remembered: she’d bought a romper not that long ago. She moved a little bit further down and pulled it off the rack. It was a pretty sage green color with a spaghetti strap V-neck and decorative buttons down the front. Perfect, she thought.

She pulled it on and looked in the full-length mirror on the closet door, satisfied. That was one thing down. Now she needed to decide on shoes. She moved over to where she kept her sandals—but a pair of strappy espadrille wedges caught her eye. She picked them up and set them on the carpet, sliding her feet in and buckling the straps at the ankles. She went back over to the mirror. The wedges combined with the short hem of the romper made her legs look a mile long. She smirked, feeling good; but then she worried at her lip. Will I be taller than Cash if I wear these?

She stopped, staring at her reflection with wide, surprised eyes. “Oh my God, I’m trying to look good for Cash,” she realized aloud.

Her phone chirped from her bed, interrupting her thoughts. She walked over and picked it up. She had a text from Adam.

Have you left yet or are you running late like usual?

She pursed her lips as she typed up a response. Give me 30 minutes. I’ll tell you my ETA once I’m out the door.

She threw her phone back on the bed and went back to getting ready, trying not to think about Cash.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Me, Adam, Cash, Dax, Alex,” Callie repeated to herself as she made sure she had enough of everything for the cookout. “One for luck. Maybe two for luck…” she said as she counted out steaks for the grill. She’d just started to season them when Adam snuck up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “It really means a lot to me.”    

“Well, this isn’t all for Alex’s benefit.” She turned in his grasp and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “I don’t want Cash and Dax thinking I don’t know how to look after my man.”

He let out a laugh. “Trust me, once they see the amount of beer and whiskey we have, they won’t doubt you for a second.” He glanced at the salad bowl on the kitchen island and tried to snatch a tomato, but Callie smacked his hand.

“Would you stop eating everything? Go buy the booze.”

Adam held his hands up in surrender. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and Callie smirked as he grabbed his keys and went out the door.

She continued prepping for the party, gathering all the ingredients to mix up a batch of her favorite cocktail. As she opened a cabinet to grab a pitcher, she heard car tires crunching up the gravel in the driveway. She glanced curiously out the window, thinking maybe Adam had forgotten something; but her face fell at the sight of a familiar dark green Jeep Wrangler. Alex.

Callie went back to mixing up the pitcher, quietly bracing herself, wishing that Dax and Cash had been the first to arrive instead. She heard the car door close, and a few seconds later Alex let herself in.

“Hey,” she greeted when she saw Callie in the kitchen. She glanced around, obviously looking for Adam. “Where’s Adam?”

Callie tried not to roll her eyes. “He’s out getting the alcohol. He shouldn’t be long.” She didn’t feel the need to open with niceties; she and Alex weren’t friends. “You can just put your bag wherever for now. Adam will show you your room when he gets back.”

Alex put her bag down next to the couch in the living room. After that, she wasn’t sure what to do. She awkwardly smoothed out her romper as she stood in the space between the living room and the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?” she offered just to say something.

Callie didn’t even bother to turn away from mixing up the cocktail as she answered. “No, I’m good. Everything’s under control.”

Alex rolled her eyes behind her back. But Adam had asked her to try; so, for his sake, she was going to do her best. “What’re you making?”

There was a pause before Callie answered. “Well, you all have your favorite drinks, so I thought I’d make mine.” She took the pitcher and carried it back to the sliding door that lead out to the backyard. Alex hurried after to help open the door. “Thanks,” Callie begrudgingly said.

“What is it?” Alex curiously asked.

“Sex on the Beach,” Callie returned as she set the pitcher on a serving table they’d set up on the patio. She smiled, briefly forgetting that she didn’t like Alex. “It’s my go-to cocktail.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “I don’t think I’ve had one of those since college,” she commented. “They’re good, though,” she hastily added. Callie just pursed her lips.  

They fell into awkward silence again. Alex looked around the backyard; they’d certainly gone all out for this cookout. The serving table was already laden with a pitcher of sweet tea, fruit salad, tortilla chips, and a large bowl of homemade bean dip to snack on. The patio table and chairs sat underneath a shaded pergola decorated with string lights, which was a new addition since the last time Alex had been there. She tried to remember when that was. Before Adam had started dating Callie, she realized.

Callie went back inside without a word. Alex blinked, unsure if she should stay outside or follow her back in; but, remembering the way Callie had told her she had everything under control, she decided to just stay out of her way. So, with nothing else to do, she took a seat at the table, pulled out her phone, and started to scroll through Twitter. It was only a few minutes when Adam rounded the corner of the house in the backyard, carrying two cases of beer and a bag of liquor looped around his wrist. Alex jumped up when she saw him.

“Thank God you’re back. It’s been like talking to a wall.”

He gave her a look as he set everything down on the patio. “She’s trying, Alex,” he returned. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” She reached up to give him a hug. He looked her over as they pulled apart.

“Who’re you all dressed up for?”

Her face flushed. “This is not dressed up,” she insisted.

He smirked. “Uh huh.”

She whacked his shoulder just as Callie returned from the kitchen, carrying the salad bowl in her hands. She shot them a look. “That was quick,” she commented.

Adam nodded. “Where’s the cooler?”

“Over there,” she answered with a nod toward where the cooler sat on the ground next to the serving table. Adam opened a case of beer and started transferring cans into the ice. He stopped to offer one to Alex.

“Want one?”

She gave him a flat look. “You’re offering me a warm beer? The hell is wrong with you, Hangman?”

He smirked again. “There’s a few cold ones in the fridge. Go help yourself.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. She went back inside and made a beeline for the fridge. She didn’t want to get drunk tonight—the last thing she needed was for Mariposa to make another appearance—but she needed to take the edge off; especially when she heard Adam give a shout from the backyard.

“What’s up, guys!”

Alex froze. Cash and Dax had arrived.

“Alex is in the kitchen,” he continued. “Dump your stuff inside and I’ll show you around in a bit.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Alex muttered to herself. She paced around the kitchen, unsure what to do, her heart already hammering in her chest. Why am I nervous? I should not be nervous; I’m with Kenny. Sort of. But all her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she saw Callie walk into the kitchen followed by Dax and Cash.

“Hey, Alex!” Dax greeted as he and Cash set down their bags. “So you decided to come after all?”

“Yeah—oh,” she was briefly caught off-guard when he walked over and gave her a hug. “I figured why not? Adam always puts on a good time.”

“So he claims,” Dax returned. “We’ll be the judge of that.”

She gave a small laugh—and then her eyes connected with Cash’s. He looked her up and down as he walked over. “You look great,” he said, and he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. Alex’s entire body heated as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Fuck, he smells good.

“Thanks,” she said. He lingered a second longer before pulling back. She didn’t mind at all.

“Is that your Wrangler out front?” he asked.

“Oh,” she bashfully pushed her hair behind her ear. “Yeah.”

He nodded in appreciation. “That’s a nice car.”

She blushed again. “Thanks. I think so, too.”

The kitchen fell quiet, and Alex and Cash suddenly realized that Callie and Dax were staring at them. Alex took a sip of her beer to cool herself down. It didn’t work.

“Well,” Callie started with a look at Dax, “would you help me take the rest of this outside?”

“Absolutely.” He grabbed the platter of steaks while she rounded up the utensils for the grill, and soon Cash and Alex were left alone in the kitchen. Alex cursed Callie in her head; she’d probably done that on purpose.

“I’m glad you came,” Cash said into the silence. And then he quickly added, “I mean, it’s good we can all hang out.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.” Their eyes met again, and Alex reflexively bit her lip. The way he was looking at her made her feel some type of way—and she needed to leave. “Well, I’m gonna go see if Adam needs a hand with anything.” She flashed a smile and walked past him back toward the backyard, drawing in a deep breath as she went. She was in trouble, and she knew it.

* * * * * * * * * *

A little while later, everyone sat around the table eagerly digging into their food, country music playing lowly in the background. Alex was trying her best not to embarrass herself while eating her corn on the cob, which felt like an impossible task sitting next to Cash. She had a feeling it had been Adam’s doing seating them together. She could tell by the way he’d smirked at her when she’d sat down.

“Well, no one’s talking so it must be good,” Adam commented.

“It’s really good,” Cash complimented as Dax nodded. “Thanks for having us over, man.”

“Yeah, thanks for cooking the steaks, Adam,” Alex said. And then she added, “And thanks for doing everything else, Callie.”

“Whoa!” Adam proclaimed. “I also got the booze.”

Alex let out a laugh. “Callie made booze!” she argued. It took Callie by surprise. Was she actually being… nice?

“You’re welcome, Alex. And thank you for noticing; I did do everything else,” Callie commented with a smirk at Adam.

He sarcastically shook his head. “Just take all the credit, why don’t you.”

“Oh, stop complaining,” she returned. “I’ll do you later, too.”

Alex snorted while Cash nearly did a spit take of his beer. Adam’s eyebrows arched. “Well, yeehaw,” he said as he raised his drink.

“And on that note,” Dax segued, “how far are you from here, Alex?”

Alex had to compose herself from laughing at Adam’s reaction before she could answer. “I’m about two hours from here. It’s actually a really nice drive.”

“Where is that you live, again?” Cash asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

She bit her lip. “I’m in Roanoke.”

He nodded, remembering. “Oh yeah, I’ve been through there. I didn’t see much of it, but it seemed nice.”

“It is,” she nodded. “It’s quiet, in the mountains. I don’t know; it’s where I’m from and I never saw any reason to leave.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Sounds like my kinda place,” he said. Alex took a sip of her beer to hide her blush.

“You’re not too far from Asheville either, right?” Adam asked, a sly grin on his face. Alex sent him a look. It was obvious what he was doing, but she answered anyway.

“No. It’s only about two hours from Asheville, too.”

“Hm,” Adam smirked between her and Cash. “Well how about that?”

Alex bit down on her jaw. She wasn’t going to play into Adam’s charade. “Well, you in live in Florida now though, don’t you?” she said to Cash.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m in Orlando.”

“Still,” Adam insisted. “You two aren’t from that far from each other.”

Cash smirked to himself as he looked down at his plate. It was blatantly obvious to the entire table what Adam was doing now. So obvious, that Callie cleared her throat.

“Hey Alex, will you help me mix up another pitcher?” She sent her a meaningful look as she picked up the nearly empty cocktail pitcher and stood from the table. Alex was both surprised and confused by the offered lifeline, but she took the hint and followed her into the house. As soon as they were gone, Cash looked at Adam.

“What’re you doing, Adam?”

Dax smirked. “I think he’s trying to be your wingman.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Adam returned. “I thought you said you wanted to get to know Alex better?”

“I do,” Cash started; but then he stopped, frustrated. “Isn’t there something going on with her and Kenny?”

“Kenny ain’t here,” Dax quipped with a drink of his beer. It earned a smirk from Adam.

“I don’t know what’s going on with her and Kenny. I don’t think Alex even knows,” Adam answered. “But I’ll tell you this—she sure as hell didn’t get all dressed up for me today.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex stood just inside the back door, eavesdropping on the conversation taking place outside. She’d started to slide the door closed when she’d heard Cash ask Adam what he was doing; and because she wanted to hear what she had to say for himself, she’d left just enough of a crack in the door so that she could listen as she stood hidden from view. Her stomach went all warm and tingly when she heard Cash confirm that he wanted to get to know her better. She was in trouble, alright. Deep, deep trouble.

“What’re you doing?” Callie suddenly asked.

Alex jumped and slid the door completely shut. “Nothing. Let’s go make that pitcher,” she said as she walked quickly past her toward the kitchen.

“Were you listening to their conversation?” Callie asked. She sounded surprisingly excited about it. “What were they talking about? Or who?” she slyly added.

Alex stopped and turned around to face her. There was a confused expression on her face. “Okay, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know how else to ask this so; why are you suddenly acting like you’re my friend?”

Alex expected Callie to answer with a roll of her eyes and some snide comment like usual. But much to her surprise, she frowned. “Look, Adam cares a lot about you, and I love him. It took me awhile to realize that what you two have is just friendship, and I’m sorry for that. So we don’t have to be friends… but I’m trying for his sake.”

Alex stood there in silence, floored by Callie’s response. She could tell from the look on her face that she wasn’t just saying that—she actually meant it. “Well, thank you. I want to try for his sake, too.”

Callie nodded. “And besides,” she added. “I’ll admit I’m a bit of a romantic… and I’ve seen the way you and Cash have been looking at each other ever since he got here.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “The way we’ve been looking at each other?”

“Yes!” she proclaimed. “You know he likes you, right? He was upset when he found out you left Britt’s party with Kenny. He tried to act like it didn’t bother him… but it definitely did.”

Alex uncomfortably rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling hot again. How did Cash even know she’d left Britt’s party with Kenny? Who’d told him that? Adam?

“And judging by your reaction right now… I think it’s pretty obvious you like him, too,” Callie smirked.

Alex’s brow furrowed. Part of her knew she did, too. But she didn’t want to admit it. “I think I’ll take one of those cocktails now.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun had gone down and the temperature with it, making it a perfect night to sit drinking around the fire pit. Alex had switched back to beer after just one of Callie’s cocktails. It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, but the girl had mixed those pitchers stiff; and again, Mariposa did not need to make another appearance tonight. Especially not with how sexy Cash looked in the firelight right now.

Alex had caught herself staring at him more than once ever since her conversation with Callie in the kitchen. After she’d poured herself a drink, she’d texted Kenny before going back outside, hoping he’d remind her why he was the one she wanted. But his responses had been few and far between. Eventually, when Adam made a comment about how she was paying more attention to her phone than the company, she’d tossed it back inside with her things. Now, as she sat next to Cash on one of the patio couches around the firepit, Kenny was the furthest thing from her mind. She subconsciously bit her lip as she looked him over. Mariposa didn’t need to come out for her to want to do bad things to him.

He looked at her and she flushed. He smirked. It was obvious she’d been staring. “You want another drink?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“What’s your poison?” he asked as he pushed himself up.

You, she thought. But she said, “I should probably stick with beer.”

He gave her a roguish grin. “What’s the fun in ���probably’?” he returned as he walked toward the drinks. Alex bit her lip again. Fuck.

“Alex was right,” Dax suddenly said from where he sat in a chair on the other side of the fire. She’d almost forgotten anyone else was outside. “You know how to host a good time, Adam.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adam raised his glass from where he and Callie sat cuddled up on the other couch. “You and Cash are welcome back any time.”

“You sure your tag team partner won’t have an issue with that?” Dax quipped.

Adam shrugged. “If he does—fuck ‘em.” He sent Alex a meaningful look across the fire. She glanced away. No matter how confused she was feeling, she wished he’d give the you shouldn’t be with Kenny thing a rest.

“Here you go.” Cash returned and handed her a beer. She arched a brow as she took it.

“I thought there wasn’t any fun in ‘probably’?

“I’m a gentleman, Alex,” he said as he sat back down next her—closer than he’d been before. “At least until you ask me not to be.”

Alex’s breath hitched in her throat. FUCK.

There must have been something in the air, because over on the other couch Callie ran a finger down Adam’s chest. She smirked up at him. “I’m ready for the rodeo, cowboy.”

Adam’s eyebrows arched. “Well, we’re gonna call it a night,” he said as he hastily downed the rest of his whiskey. “Y’all stay out here as long as you want; the fire will burn itself out.” He jumped up and pulled Callie with him; but before he could drag her into the house, she sent Alex and Cash a smirk.

“There’s blankets in there,” she said with a nod at the storage ottoman in front of the couch where they’d been sitting. “You know, if you want to get comfortable.”

Alex shook her head as Callie disappeared back inside with Adam. That hadn’t been subtle at all.

“I think I’m gonna call it, too,” Dax said as pushed himself up from the chair. Just like Callie had, he gave them a crooked grin as he passed. “You two have fun.”

He went back inside, leaving Alex and Cash alone with nothing but the crackle of the fire and the sound of the cicadas singing in the night.

Alex looked down at her beer, her heart hammering in her chest already. She could see Cash looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “Are you cold?” he asked.

She nodded. “A little, actually. Yeah,” she honestly answered.

He stood and walked over to the ottoman and pulled out a fluffy cream colored fleece blanket. When he returned, he sat down and draped it over his lap. “Come here,” he motioned with his head for her to join him under the blanket. Alex hesitated—but she slid across the cushions as he lifted his arm for her to tuck herself against his side. He pulled her close, and she placed her head on his chest and let out a contented hum. She wasn’t sure what was going on with her and Kenny. But this? This felt right.

“So, I overheard something today,” she said as she watched the flames grow lower in the fire pit.

“Oh yeah?” Cash asked as he stroked his thumb back and forth across her bare arm. Goosebumps prickled over her skin. He drew her closer.

“Mmhm. And Adam’s right—I didn’t get all dressed up for him today.”

She looked up at him. He brushed her hair away from her face. “What’s the deal with you and Kenny?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she honestly answered. “What’s the deal here?”

He smirked. “I don’t know. But I like you. I want to spend more time with you. And maybe I’m wrong... but I feel like you feel the same.”

Alex sat up. Cash brought his arm around her waist, and she looked into his eyes as she placed her hand behind his head, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him shiver against her. “I do,” she said. “I felt that way at the party last week. I’ve felt that way all day today. And even though I left the party with Kenny… if I’d had the choice, I know would’ve left with you.”

Cash brought his other hand to her hip. Alex leaned into his touch, wanting him to feel her. “Trust me, I didn’t want you leaving with anyone else that night,” he said. “But I’d had a lot to drink, too. And when I take you home, I want to be able to treat you right.”

Her stomach fluttered at his choice of words. “When?”

“When,” he returned.

Heat rose in Alex’s core. It was a struggle not to straddle him right then and there.

“Mm,” he hummed as his eyes fell closed. “And if you don’t stop playing with my hair like that, when might be tonight.”

She didn’t stop. “You promise?”

“Alex,” he grinned as he gently removed her hand from behind his neck, still holding her close. “Trust me, there’s nothing I want more right now than to take you inside and throw you on the bed in the guest room. But I don’t want either of us to go behind Kenny’s back.”

Alex calmed down a bit then. He was right. She didn’t want to go behind Kenny’s back, either. But the thought of telling him how she felt about Cash left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Come on,” Cash said. “We should go to bed before we get in trouble.”

He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, and he laced their fingers together as he led her back into the house. It was too soon before they arrived at the guest bedroom where she was sleeping. Alex turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around her waist, holding her tight against his body in the darkened hallway. Alex hummed again, taking in his scent. It felt different in Cash’s arms than it did in Kenny’s. Deeper. Realer.

“Stay with me,” she said. “I want to sleep cuddled up with you tonight.”

He laughed softly against her. “Sweetheart, there’s no way I could just cuddle with the way you’re making me feel.”

Butterflies exploded in Alex’s stomach. She wanted to hear him call her “sweetheart” a million times over.

He unwound his arms from her waist and looked into her eyes as he brought his hands to cup her face. He leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Sleep good,” he said in her ear. As he pulled away, he took her hand in his again, and they held onto each other’s fingers for as long as they could as he backed down the hall. And as she watched him disappear around the corner toward where he was sleeping, Alex knew she needed to talk to Kenny.

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[breakmebucky]

Until The End Of The Line

Note: My hand slipped. Sorry not sorry. Word Count: 3787 Pairings: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Magic Sex Powder, DubCon (cause of sex powder), language, smut, please don’t be a child reading this. There’s some chasing happening. This was all an excuse to write smut, I’ll be honest. PWP.

               It all started with an innocent question. A nondescript box sitting on the kitchen island with an equally nondescript note attached.

               “This is for everything you’ve done.” The note read. A smiley face for a signature and nothing else.

               “What’s in the box?” Steve asked as Y/N entered the kitchen where he and Bucky had been about to chug some post-workout shakes.

               “Who’s it from?” She answered his question with another.

               “Not sure. Just says ‘This is for everything you’ve done.’ with a smiley face.” He explained as he cut the tape on the box. Bucky and Y/N exchanged alarmed glances

               “Steve no!” Bucky and Y/N shouted at the same time as Bucky nearly vaulted over the island to knock the box out of Steve’s hands. A blue powder exploded from the box and covered both his and Steve’s faces and clothes before settling onto the floor and seeming to vanish.

               “Biological Contaminant Detected.” FRIDAY’s voice rang through the complex. “Lockdown initiated.”

               Darkness swallowed the frozen scene as the blast shutters slammed shut over the windows and the silence was pierced by the sounds of the entire complex going into full lockdown. The generator kicked on as well as the internal HVAC system that would purify and recycle the air in the compound so as to not risk the contaminant being released into the atmosphere. The emergency lighting that lined the floors and ceilings of the compound lit up and cast an eerie orange glow over the still frozen inhabitants of the room.

               “Steve you fucking idiot.” Bucky groaned as he finally moved himself off of his friend and tossed the box as far away from them as possible.

               “I thought it was a thank you from a fan or something.” Steve said, his voice soft with shock and the realization of the stupidity of what he’d done.

               “What…what do we do?” Y/N asked, still frozen where she’d been when Bucky and Steve had gone hurtling over the island with the mystery box.

               “Containment procedure says we-ah!” Steve suddenly grabbed at his chest as if something had struck him. “We need to…oh god…” His face flushed, unseen in the orange glow, and he looked over towards Bucky in horror.

               “Y/N. You need to go.” Bucky said. His voice was low and heavy with an emotion Y/N hadn’t heard before. She took a step towards the pair and they both held out a hand to stop her. “NO! Don’t...don’t come any closer to either of us.” Bucky managed to get out before his hand also flew to his chest.

               “Lock yourself in the lab. Radio for help.” Steve groaned out as his hand slid down his chest until he was palming himself through his sweatpants.

               “What the fuck is going on?!” Y/N shouted. She had been working in the lab with Bruce for a while, just trying to learn more of the sciencey-technical side of the team, but even with her masters in Biology and her extensive training and knowledge of biological weapons, she’d never heard of one that would produce this kind of reaction.

               “Go!” Steve reiterated, his voice on the edge of a growl.

               “NOW!” Bucky added, fighting to not bring himself to his feet. When Y/N still didn’t move, he kicked a chair into the wall behind her for encouragement. It worked and she was suddenly dashing down the hall, cursing Steve and his unwavering trust in the human race.

               Y/N hadn’t even made it halfway down the hallway when the sound of both men echoed off the walls behind her.

               “Wait, Y/N!” Steve called from the doorway. “Don’t go. I forgot to tell you something.”

               “Steve?” Y/N asked as she continued to slowly back down the hall towards the elevators. “What did you forget to tell me?”

               Steve braced himself against the doorway and a breathy laugh fell from his throat.

               “You smell so fucking good.” He answered. Steve turned his head as Bucky found his way to the threshold as well and asked, “Doesn’t she smell so fucking good, Buck?”

               “Steve, no.” Bucky growled out in warning, his vibranuim hand crushing the frame of the door as he fought to keep control of himself. “Y/N. Go. Now. Run.”

               She didn’t need to be told twice. Y/N dashed down the remainder of the hall as the sounds of a struggle broke out behind her. She had just made it into the elevator when the hall filled with the sounds of both men running after her. The doors shut just as they reached them and Y/N was able to catch a brief glimpse of both of their faces; a glimpse of two sets of normally blue eyes that were drowned in the black of their pupils and filled heavy with need.

               “What the fuck?” She kept repeating to herself as she hit the button that would take her to the floor the lab was on. “What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?!”

               The wall to her left erupted in the sounds of thundering footsteps that moved faster than the elevator did and Y/N stared in horror as her brain pieced together what she was hearing. Both Bucky and Steve were racing down the stairwell to beat the elevator to its stop. They were literally chasing her like wild animals. Y/N knew there was no way she could ever outrun them, not with their enhanced abilities. But she was clever and she was smart and if there was a chance of her making it to the lab to call for help, it lay in her ability to outsmart them and to hide from them.

               With time running out and the elevator nearing its destination, Y/N made the split second decision to hit the buttons for all the remaining floors before climbing on the handrail and forcing the hatch at the top of the elevator open. She heard the steps falter two floors below her as she shut the hatch behind her and waited, crouching on the elevator and trying to avoid the cables. The steps began to echo closer as the elevator closed its doors and descended another floor before stopping once again.

               “Where are you, Y/N?” Bucky’s voice shouted from the floor above her.

               “We’re not going to hurt you.” Steve assured from inside the elevator before his steps moved back into the hallway.

               One floor and she would be in the clear. One floor and she’d have a chance at getting to safety. She shifted in anticipation as the elevator dinged and the doors moved to close, but her shifting must have sounded like thunder to the enhanced super-soldier hearing of Steve’s ears because the elevator doors were suddenly blocked and they opened again, allowing him to enter the small space again.

               “I know you’re around here, Y/N.” He said, his voice growing darker every minute. “We just need to talk. We need to see if you’ve got it too. We need you, Y/N.”

               “Please, Y/N.” Bucky’s voice joined Steve’s below her and it was all Y/N could do not to scream. “We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

               Her foot slipped and she watched through the grate of the hatch as two pairs of blackened eyes looked up and made contact with her own.

               “There you are, little mouse.” Bucky grinned. “Come down. We won’t hurt you.”

               “Just let me go to the lab.” Y/N replied. “You’re sick and you need help. Both of you. I can help you, but I need to get to the lab.”

               “You’re right.” Bucky replied. “You can help us.”

               The hatch was knocked open suddenly and Steve’s hand wrapped around Y/N’s ankle before pulling her feet out from under her and throwing her onto the floor of the elevator. Her scream was cut short as the wind was knocked out of her, but she quickly recovered and kicked Bucky’s feet out from under him before making a dash out the door. Her brain was running through rapid-fire split-second decisions and without a clear memory of how she got there, Y/N suddenly found herself curled into a ball at the bottom of a supply closet just down the hall from the lab.

               Bucky and Steve could be heard in the hall, calling out for her and growing both more irritated and needier with each word.

               “Y/N, please.”  Bucky whined. “I just need to see you.”

               “Sweetheart, Bucky’s right. We just need to make sure you’re okay.”

               “Come out, please, Doll.”

               “We just wanna make you feel good.”

               “Wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

                 One pair of footsteps stopped outside the door to the supply closet and Y/N bit her fist to keep herself from audibly whimpering. She still had no idea what was happening to her friends and, although she had dreamed of them saying the things they were saying now –both separately and together– it was the darkness in their tone that set her on edge. A hand rested on the doorknob and time felt like it slowed to a crawl as Y/N watched the handle turn. The door opened and Bucky stared down at her, his shirt soaked in sweat and his cock standing at attention.

               “There you are, love.” He crooned lowly before grabbing her by the arm and yanking her up off the floor. He shut the door behind her and then pushed her against it before rubbing his cheek against her own. “Been looking for you everywhere, Y/N.” He pressed his hips forwards and ground his cock against her stomach as his hands slid up her arms and came to rest, one cold against her neck and one hot gripping her jaw and turning her head to the side to expose her neck. There was rush of air as Bucky inhaled her scent deeply and then choked out the exhaled breath. “Steve’s right. You smell so fucking good.”

               “Bucky, please.” Y/N plead softly. “Just let me get to the lab and I can help you.”

               “Shh.” Bucky’s hand on her jaw shifted until he was pressing a finger to her lips. “I just want to taste you.”

               Warmth flooded Y/N’s body when Bucky’s lips pressed against her own. The kiss was gentle at first, as though some humane part of him still resided inside and had control. But then his tongue was inside her mouth and the kiss grew into something needier and wilder. The hand at her throat squeezed just enough to start the coil in Y/N’s core tightening and then she felt his other hand fighting with the button of her jeans. Y/N pulled back and her hands flew to Bucky’s fumbling fingers.

               “Bucky, no.” She gasped out against his mouth. “Not like this.”

               “I just wanna make you feel good.” He insisted, swatting her hands away and popping the button of her jeans off with a quick tug. Bucky silenced Y/N’s protests with another devouring kiss as his hand slid past the band of her underwear and his fingers delved into her folds.

               “Oh fuck…” Y/N moaned, breaking away from Bucky’s mouth again as her head fell back against the closet door and her hands struggled to find something to grip onto. Bucky pressed first one and then two fingers into her and pumped them in and out with purpose, until Y/N was panting heavily and gripping his arm tightly. “Bucky….feels so good. Oh, fuck…I’m gonna…”

               “That’s right.” Steve’s voice sounded from behind Bucky. “Come all over his fingers, baby.”

               Y/N’s eyes snapped to Steve’s face and then to his hand, which was pumping his own cock furiously as he watched Bucky bring her ever closer to the edge. Something about watching Steve stroking himself while Bucky fucked his fingers deeper and faster into her sent Y/N over the hill and crashing down in bliss.

               Bucky pulled his fingers out of her and brought them to his mouth, languidly licking her juices off and moaning as he did so. His hand on her throat released her and Y/N slid to the ground in a panting, unfocused mess. Steve was there to catch her and he laid her out right there in the hallway before the sound of her pants being shredded filled the corridor. The sudden chill on her skin brought Y/N back to her senses just in time to feel Steve line up with her entrance and slide into her. A gasp ripped itself from her chest and Y/N’s back arched at the sudden feeling of fullness.

               “Oh god. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as he sheathed himself completely in her warmth and then stilled. “So fucking warm and soft.” He slowly pulled out of her, almost completely, before bucking his hips and slamming back inside with force. Steve pulled out once more and then drove into her quicker and quicker each time, drawing moans and gasps from Y/N as she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

               “You gonna come for me, baby?” Steve asked, his voice heavy and dark. “You gonna come all over my cock?” He pushed himself deeper into Y/N’s warmth and she yelped as a sharp pain shot through her.

               “Steve, don’t. That hurts.” She whined. “Not so hard.”

               Steve didn’t seem to hear her because he kept slamming harder and harder into her until a scream tore form her throat and she came a second time, though under less pleasurable circumstances. At the sound of her scream, Bucky’s hands suddenly gripped Steve’s shoulders and wrestled him off of Y/N, pulling him free with a wet pop as his cock slid out of her.

               “Play nice, Stevie!” Bucky growled before he took Steve’s place inside Y/N’s warmth. As he filled her, a moan fell from his lips and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Fuck, Doll.” He breathed. “I-I don’t think I can stop. You feel so fucking good.” Bucky’s lips collided with Y/N’s again as he began to fuck into her with gusto, pulling a combination of moans and whines from her lips.

               The both of them were pushed over, still coupled, until Bucky was on his back and Y/N was straddled atop his hips.

               “Steve, no.” Bucky warned. “She’s not ready.”

               “Then share.” Steve groaned.

               Y/N’s head cleared enough for her to realize what the two of them were talking about and her eyes widened in trepidation.

               “My-my mouth, Steve.” She stuttered out. “Use my mouth.”

               “Oh, FUCK…” They both groaned simultaneously.

               Seconds later and Y/N was choking on Steve’s cock as he thrust eagerly into her mouth. She could taste the brine of herself mixed with the salt from Steve’s skin and between that and the realization that her deepest fantasy was suddenly her reality, Y/N came for the third time. She felt Bucky dig his hands into her hips, bruising the skin for sure, as his thrusts stuttered and finally stilled inside her. He painted her walls with heat as he came inside her, though she had no time to relish the sensation because Steve was suddenly gripping her head and slamming into the back of her throat, grunting as he thrusted away. Y/N felt his release coat her mouth and slide down her throat as he came with a loud groan before sliding out of her mouth and sinking to the floor beside her and Bucky.

               “What…the fuck?” Y/N panted after she was able to catch her breath finally. She slid off of Bucky’s lap, whining slightly as his fullness left her, and pushed herself away from both men. After a moment of silence, she finally pushed herself off the floor and used the wall to help herself stand. Neither Steve nor Bucky seemed to be coherent enough to explain, or even notice as she slowly backed away from them and made her way down the hall towards the lab, pulling Steve’s discarded shirt over her head in an effort at modesty. The emergency communication line was flashing rapidly, lighting the room with brief blasts of red light, as she hit the switch that would seal her inside the lab. As Y/N stumbled over to the communicator, the reality of the last few hours rushed over her and reduced her to a shaking sobbing mess as she pressed the button that would open the com-line.

               “HELLO?!” Sam’s voice urgently flowed over the open line. “Anyone there?!”

               “Yes…” Y/N whispered before sobs overtook her again.

               “Y/N!?” Nat’s voice this time. “What happened? Are you guys okay?!”

               “Box…light blue powder…I don’t…” She croaked out between sobs. “Bucky and Steve…I couldn’t run…it was fine and then…”

               “Stay there.” Nat ordered. “We’re just waiting for FRIDAY to finish cleaning the air and open the doors.”

               “Lock the lab.” Tony’s voice now. “It’s reinforced. Even Banner couldn’t break in.”

               “I did.” Y/N said, choking as she gasped for air. “I…can’t…breathe…”

               Suddenly the room was hot, the walls were closing in and, no matter how she tried, Y/N couldn’t catch her breath. She couldn’t escape the feeling that what was left of her clothes was suddenly too much, even Steve’s loose shirt. Her own skin felt like it was burning, like she just needed to get out of it. She needed help. She needed them. Her body suddenly craved the touch of skin on skin. She needed to feel them –both of them– on her, inside her, all over her.

               The com-line faded into indistinct chatter as Y/N’s instincts took over the rational part of her brain and she made her way back to the doors. She overrode FRIDAY’s programming and the doors slid open with a soft whoosh. Bucky and Steve were still at the end of the hall, though they seemed to have recovered as they had both pulled their pants back up and were looking around at the remnants of Y/N’s clothes. As soon as the doors shut again, both men turned their eyes to Y/N, who was slowly striding towards them, tugging off the powder covered shirt as she made her way down the hall.

               “Is this what it felt like?” She whined, gripping the edge of her tank top and discarding it and her bra just as quickly. Y/N’s hands slid over her now bare skin and dug into the softness of her own breasts, leaving tiny crescent shaped indentions in the tender flesh. “I’m sorry I ran and hid. I didn’t know.” She looked up at the duo with pleading eyes and begged, “Please, help me?”

               “Y/N?” Steve questioned cautiously, before spying the blue powder that had rubbed off his shirt and into her hair. “Bucky, she’s…”

               “I know.” Bucky’s voice was clipped and strained. They both seemed unsure what to do, now that the drug had burnt its way through their enhanced immune systems. They were fine after one release, thanks to the serum. But a typical human? The drug would burn its way through her until she went mad or her heart gave out. Bucky had experience with the drug, thanks to his time as a hydra asset, and even his enhanced stamina hadn’t always been enough to fully satisfy or save the unfortunate women that had been experimented on throughout the development phase. There was no telling which phase this particular dose came from, which scared Bucky right to his core.

               “You can do it.” Steve said, reluctantly. “She likes you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you in the gym.”

               “No. It’s okay. You can do it.” Bucky answered, though his expression didn’t match his words one bit. “I’ve seen the way you two are in the kitchen. Her laugh is genuine.”

               “For fucks sake, you’re both pretty. I like you both.” Y/N growled. “Please just touch me before I crawl out of my fucking skin.” Her words ended in a whine as she gripped the wall and pressed her thighs together desperately.

               “Choose.” Bucky said, his voice growing desperate at the sight of her.

               “We’ll help. Just…just choose.” Steve agreed.

               Y/N’s eyes flashed with need and her hand that wasn’t gripping the wall slid down between her thighs.

               “I don’t want to choose.” She said, her voice dripping in sin. “That’s why I haven’t.” A gasp and a moan fell from her lips as she delved into her own warmth and began to try and ease the ache herself. “I don’t want to choose…” she repeated as she slid to the floor, her legs falling open and exposing her dripping cunt to both Steve and Bucky. “I need you both. I want you both.”

                 Sometime between their second and third orgasms, Steve and Bucky managed to collect themselves enough to move the party out of the hallway. Y/N protested, her body still shaking from the drug coursing through her veins, but she quieted down as soon as Bucky was buried deep in her again as he pressed her back against the elevator wall. He carried her, still coupled with him, into Steve’s room as Steve held the door open and trailed in after them.

               After another hour of both men fucking her in tandem, filling her in every way possible, Y/N’s fever began to finally subside and she collapsed into a boneless heap between Bucky and Steve on the bed. The three of them lay there panting in a tangle of arms and legs, as soft kisses were passed between them and bites and bruises were washed over with gentle caresses. As Y/N curled into Steve’s chest, she felt Bucky curl against her back and press his lips to her shoulder gently.

               “How are you feeling, Doll?” He asked softly, murmuring the words against her skin, which erupted in goosebumps at the sensation.

               “Better.” Y/N hummed just as softly. “So much better.”

               “C’mere.” Steve mumbled as he cupped her face delicately and brought his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet and gentle and so very Steve that it left a smile on Y/N’s face when they parted. A smile that quickly shifted to a frown when Steve spoke again. “Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you properly before this is all over.”

               “All over?” Y/N questioned. “I don’t understand…”

               “You should choose-”

               “Steven Grant Rogers.” Y/N said sternly. “I said I’m not choosing between you two.” She pushed herself up to look him square in the face before continuing, “So, unless you’re going to tell me this isn’t something you want, then it’s not over.”

               “We’re with you, Steve.” Bucky added, sitting up enough to look at Steve from over Y/N’s shoulder. “Both of us.”

               “Whatever you choose.” Y/N agreed.

               Steve hesitated a moment as he blinked back tears and stared at the two people he loved the most in the world.

               “Until the end of the line?”

               “Until the end of the line.” They replied in unison.

#dubcon #sex pollen #breakmebucky #bucky #steve and bucky #stucky #stucky x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #steve #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes

[gh0stiegirlie]

You have been a pro-hero for the past three years, and a damn good one too (although, you don’t think so). When you and Ground Zero are assigned on a stakeout case together to capture a member of the Dark Akumu, which is currently Musutafu’s most threatening Villian League, it changes the entire course of your career– and your life.

length: 2.6k words

<- pt. 3                                                       pt 5 (on hiatus tilli get inspo lmao)  ->

You’re aware of two things. One: you’re surrounded by a shiton of villains. Two: No matter how badly you want to, you can’t punch Nikushimi in his dumb face.

Nikushimi strolls around the clearing, unbothered. He knows you can’t fight him, and won’t even attempt to. Nikushimi’s quirk is a secret wellkept in the hero world, only known to those rare few who have encountered him. You can’t fight Musutafu’s biggest threat on your own, especially when you’re oblivious to his quirk. 

You stand defensively in front of Bakugou, internally begging for him to wake up. You’re in awe of all the villains surrounding you, knowing you don’t stand a chance on your own. Even with your power, thirty against one seems impossible. Especially while you’re trying to protect Bakugous body.

“You know, I was busy tonight. I had to take time out of my night to come deal with you pesky heroes-- I was getting ready for the attack this Friday, though I’m sure you already know that.” Nikushimi paces with hands neatly folded behind his back as he laments. “We’re now aware there’s a double agent in our mix, otherwise you wouldn’t have known about tonight. And we will weed them out so they can be severely punished, but we have more important work to do first.” Nikushimi stops dead in his tracks to point at you. “We’re going to use you and little Ground Zero over here as a message that we are not to be taken lightly. I mean, the Subarashī Hero agency thought we were only worth two kids! ” he laughs, before an eerie scowl replaces his playful smile. “Two heroes who are still in their diapers.” he spits, taking a step towards you. His arms shake with rage until he steps back and collects himself. “We’ll show them,” he spins around on his heel and flicks his wrists. “Take care of them.” 

That’s when thirty villains run to you at once, all coming to kill you.

You’ve been doing hero work for three years, but nothing in your career has prepared you for the moment you’d be fighting for your life. It feels like you’ve been thrown in a den with thirty starved lions, and you’re the first piece of meat they’ve seen in years. 

One villain charges at you quicker than any of the others, and you brace yourself for an impact. Instead, they launch themselves in front of you to block a blast you didn’t even see coming. When you go to help them up, you see who it is.

It’s pro-hero Kankaku, with the quirk of supersense. The C-List hero who Chief Chie sent to pose as a villain in the Dark Akumu.

“Kanakuku, our main priority needs to be protecting Ground Zero. He’s currently the most vulnerable, and these villains are going to take advantage of that. No matter what, we need to protect him.” you explain, already shooting toxic gasses from your palms at attacking villains.

 “We can take care of these guys, and protect Ground Zero. We got this.” he challenges you with a grin. You nod and step over Bakugous limp body, you and Kankaku using your bodies to create an impregnable barrier around Ground Zero.

“I’m going to try something, alright Kankaku? It’ll blind both the villains and me, so I’ll need you to be my eyes,” you explain, the fight already leaving you breathless.

“I got you, Ether,” he assures which a quick assuring glance over his shoulder.

You suck in a deep breath, inhaling as much air as possible. Air is made up of water vapor, which you’ve read is technically a gas. A gas that’s invisible until advection occurs. Advection is simply the process of transferring heat by the flow of a fluid, so if you manage to inhale enough water vapor, mix that with your spit and your body temperature manages to heat that mixture to a high enough degree, you may be able to create fog.

You puff out your cheeks to hold as much air as possible and allow the vapor a few moments to heat up.

You’ve thought about this before, but decided the idea was simply outrageous. You’re burdened with a quirk of death. You’re only capable of creating and controlling dangerous gasses. Toxins that end lives. Not fog, a gas that’s harmless and inconveniencing at it’s worst. But here you are now, actually taking Bakugou’s advice to stop thinking and just do shit. So you’re just doing this dumb shit, event hough it may not work. 

You shake your head and push all the doubtful thoughts deep in your mind. You swish around the air in your mouth a bit, before forming an O with your lips and blowing.

You force yourself to suppress an ecstatic grin when fog flows from your mouth. You spew the gas in all directions, covering the entire clearing. Using your quirk, you keep the foggy gas from evaporating. 

Kankaku chuckles in astonishment. “This is amazing! No wonder you’re in the top ten!” he compliments. “Okay, keep your back against mine. If I can feel you, I can differentiate your vibrations from the villains and tell you where they are,” he explains. You press your back against his, and immediately he bellows “Three on your left!”

You drown the villains in poisonous gas before they make it to you. “Close to you in front!” he then shouts, and you sucker-punch a villain right as he comes into view, a loud crunch indicating impact as he stumbles back into the darkness. “Left and right!” he warns. You outstretch your hands from your sides and shoot your poisonous gas at the two villains closing in on you. The two of you fall into a rythm of Kankaku barking commands, and you following each direction so every toxic blast is perfectly aimed. 

The waves of villains slows to a stop, but you and Kankaku remain back to back.

“Something isn’t right…” he mumbles, breaking away from you. 

The absence of his body against yours leaves you feeling exposed. “Hey, Kankaku, don’t move!” you order, but when you turn around he’s already gone. “Kankaku! Where are you?” you whisper, not wanting to draw the attention of any lingering villains. You kneel next to Bakugou’s body and place a hand on his stomach to keep yourself grounded. 

“We’ll be okay, Bakugou,” you whisper, more for yourself than him.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream rips through the air. You jump up, only for Kankaku’s body to run into you full force and knock you down. 

He continues screaming and writhes on top of you, so you push him off and pin him to the ground by his wrists.

“What’s wrong Kankaku?!” you ask urgently, searching his eyes for an answer. His glazed eyes are wide and terrified, like he’s seen a ghost. “Speak to me, please!”

He trembles beneath you, his mouth forming silent screams. You realize you won’t get anything out of him. You try to crawl off him, but your knee sinks into something. When you look down, you nearly vomit of the sight of your knee sinking into a gaping wound in Kankaku’s leg.

“Fuck!! What the hell!” you scurry off of him, his blood coating your knee and slowly dripping down your leg. “What happened?!” you question, but he just opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You bury your feet into the ground, ready to defend both of the boy’s bodies with your life. You keep your breathing even and your body loose, trying not to fall into shock like Kankaku. 

Without Kankaku, you’re blind in your own fog. You’re now at a severe disadvantage, but at least the two heroes are hidden and safe.

While you’re running through every escape route (and every way this can end terribly) in your head, your hand begins to sting. At first, you think nothing of it. You flap your hand around to shake the pain away. Then the stinging turns searing and begins to spread down your wrist, and you decide to give it some attention.

Something is burning a hole through your flesh. You shriek, once again shaking your hand to get whatever is digging into your hand off, but to no avail. Another drop appears from the fog and lands near your knuckle. You bring your hand close to your face to inspect the liquid. It looks like blood, except it slowly starts to burrow its way into your knuckle. You’re able to fling it off before it succeeds, but the other parts of your hand aren’t so lucky.

Great. A toxic blood quirk. 

You dodge the steady stream of poisonous blood and move closer to Kankaku in order to protect him from further injuries. You jump when he grabs your ankle.

“E-Ether… help me,” he quietly pleas, his voice raspy and unclear due to the blood gurgling in the back of his throat. You crouch next to his face and gently grab his chin, lifting it so he can see you. You put on a confident smile with soft, comforting eyes.

“Hey, hey, you’ll be okay. We’ll get out of this,” you assure him, though your doubts are slowly seeping to the forefront to your mind.

“I--I--” he stutters, blood seeping from his mouth. His teeth are stained red. Fuck fighting these villains, you need to call Chie and get Kankaku to a hospital. He weakly points to his leg, “hu-help.”

Your breath hitches at the sight of thick fingers curling around his ankle. Fingers that are connected to a hand, but a hand that isn’t attached to anything. This hand wrapping around Kankaku isn’t joined to an arm, let alone a body. You wearily reach to peel off the fingers, but the hand pulls Kankaku away from you.

“Ether!” he cries, arms flailing as he desperately reaches for you. You briefly hook the tips of his fingers around yours, but the hand rips him away. Helpless, you sit defeated next to Bakugou as Kankaku is dragged into the darkness, his screams piercing your ears.

Now is no time to grow discouraged, as the acid is burning holes through Ground Zeros uniform. You need to at least keep one hero safe. 

You sit and hug your knees to your chest, digging your head into your kneecaps. You need to think of something, and fast.

You slowly stand back up. You raise your arms and when you drop them, the fog falls away. Various unconscious villains are scattered across the ground, and in the distance, you watch the hand with Kankaku reconnect with a body. 

The body is wide and burly, with doubles of every limb. The hand jumps and attaches to the man’s wrist with a sickening ‘pop’, Kankaku still in its grasp. 

You start towards Kankaku but halt when you hear someone sneeze from behind Bakugou. You whip around as another villain appears from nowhere. He somehow snuck past you and popped into existence.

Here you are, at a crossroads. Your head flicks between Kankaku and Bakugou, and you take this moment to not think. You follow your heart, and you act.

You sigh, your eyes gliding over to Kankaku. 

“Kankaku, I’m sorry,” you whisper genuinely, though he can’t hear you. 

You turn and run to save Bakugou. As the villain begins to pull Bakugou away, you jump on top of the boys' unconscious body to keep him anchored to the ground.

Bakugou exhales an ‘oof’, and warily blinks his eyes.

“Finally,” you mutter as you get off of him to deal with the villain.

The villain has a hood covering her face, with the rest of her body enveloped in black. Even her silky, shoulder-length hair is jet black. Though the small amount of skin she exposes is pale, and when she raises her head her face is white as a sheet.

Or, white as a ghost.

This is the villain Youkai, the one you and Bakugou came here for.

Is this the 'ghost' who terrified Kankaku?

Her cracked lips crumble into a small as you attack her. You run in close for a punch, but your fist travels right through her. You turn to punch her again, but your efforts to make contact are fruitless, as every time she dodges by phasing out of her solid-state. Similar to a ghost, when Youkai phases you're able to see her, not touch. 

Then, like a ghost, she starts to disappear.

Youkai is having fun. To her, this is all a game. And you're just a toy she's playing with for her enjoyment. She knows you can’t win and is relishing in the thrill of beating a top ten hero. The two of you dance, Youkai disappearing, reappearing, and phasing in and out of existence as you spin and trip over your feet to try and fail to throw blasts of toxic gasses. Unbeknownst to you, with every step you near Bakugou's barely conscious body.

From the forest, you hear Nikushimi huff in annoyance. He leaves his hidden spot in the trees to boom, “Stop playing with her, Youkai. Grab the hero and let’s go. We already have one.”

Youkai grins at you. A grin of victory, a triumph she gained without you even realizing it. While you were distracted by your irrational thoughts of defeating her, fighting with her even though you didn't have a chance, she crept closer and closer to Bakugou. So now, as she sets his hand on Bakugous head, she grins before disappearing.

You try to push through the thoughts telling you you’re a failure and you've caused two casualties today. You despairingly search the ground for any signs of Bakugou. After a few seconds you collapse to the ground, feeling completely lost. Now that Bakugou’s gone, you feel empty.

That’s why when you hear the sound of an explosion followed shortly by “you bastard!”, your face lights up. Whoever knew you would consider the sound of Bakugou’s yelling music to your ears? 

Bakugou and Youkai reappear in thin air, as a blast from Bakugou sends both of them rolling across the ground. By the time you make it over to Bakugou, he’s stopped circling and is sprawled out on his back. 

“Are you okay?” you pant, your eyes frantically scanning his body of minor scratches and bruises for any serious injuries.

“No, I’m fine,” he coughs. You didn’t even notice your hand resting on his chest until he place’s his rough atop yours. With the other hand, he points a shaky finger at Youkai. “Get off me you bastard and capture… Him…" he instructs, but by the time he forms the words, Youkai is invisible. Stupid ghost quirk.

“I hope you don’t mind that we called the police department for you. We wouldn’t want them to miss this.” Nikushimi gestures to the chaos in the clearing, knowing you and Bakugou will carry the weight of this complete and utter shitshow for the rest of your careers.  He grimaces. “Whatever this is.”

He perks up at the sound of police sirens coming from the other end of the forest. “Aw, that's too bad! I was having fun, but I think it’s time for us to leave.” Youkai and the villain with the detachable limb quirk, along with another villain you haven’t seen all run to Nikushimi. The detachable limb villain's four hands hold Kankaku tightly in their clutches, close to his chest. “Oh, no need to worry about dear old Kankaku here. We’ll take good care of him.” Nikushimi gingery pats Kankaku’s head. “But thank your police for providing him to us, we're eternally grateful," Nikushimi mockingly taps his heart. "Although, he will be punished for his double crossing in due time. After we make use of him, that is. Goodbye, Ground Zero and Ether. We hope we weren’t too much trouble.”

With that, Youkai performs her disappearing act one more time, and villains are gone.

Right as they fade into the forest, Chief Chie emerges into the clearing. She enters with a smile that fades as she processes the nuclear battleground in front of her. Hiroizumu, the head of your hero agency, follows close behind. You unconsciously hold tight onto Bakugou’s hand, fearful of their reaction to this absolute mess.

“What. Happened.” Chief Chie glowers, her eyes burning holes into yours.

You and Bakugou exchange a frightened look, and gulp.

You’re in deep shit.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou x reader #mha bakugo x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #bnha #bnha katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo

[ally-127]

locker room

genre: badboy!AU smut

pairing: OG character badass! lisa (this isn’t lisa from blackpink but you can imagine it’s her in the story if you’d like) x badboy!jaemin

summary: lisa left class to get some fresh air and away from his suffocating stare that he was giving her while she was doing her presentation. who knew that he would actually follow her right out. he was na jaemin, after all. one thing led to another and... you all know the whole shebang.

warning: smut and quite a bit of swearing oops (read at your own risk)

word count: 2.9k +

song: FOCUS ON ME - jus2 (got7 subunit)

i wrote this without any capitalisation so beware

“lisa, why are you so nervous?” a deep voice questions from right in front of her.

she looks down from the projector screen and at her hands. her eyes slowly lift up and she sees him crack the biggest smile. she isn’t nervous. she’s just irritated.

“you’re so cute.”

the entire class erupts into laughter. aimed at him or her, she didn’t know. impulsively, she runs out of class and into the hallway. before she knows it, he appears right behind her, sneakers screeching against the tiled floors from his abrupt halt as he saw her.

“what are you doing?”

she’s at a loss for words. the biggest fuckboy, and someone who lisa wants to think meant nothing to her, has followed her right out the classroom. his lips are parted expectantly, his dark pink hair swaying across his eyes. she shakes her head. she’s living in a whole fucking cliché.

“lisa,” he murmurs.

“you’re fucking embarrassing me in front of the whole class,” lisa spits at him, the tips of her ears red from both humiliation and anger.

jaemin crooks an eyebrow and takes a few steps toward her.

“you’re mad?” he probes.

“what does it look like?” she crosses her arms, glaring at the boy who seemed so unbothered it annoyed her.

“it looks like you want me,” he leans on the locker and hooks his finger under her chin. the badboy persona really shines when he’s around her. being around her gives him a boost of confidence, of his ego. “do you?”

he angles her chin up so she’s looking straight into those warm brown, mischievous irises of his.

she scoffs and jerks her chin away from his hand. “not everything’s about you, na jaemin.”

“you didn’t say that when you were in my bed last friday night,” he murmurs.

“i—what?” lisa frowns.

“oh, come on,” he doesn’t need tilt her head for her to stare at him. it’s so simple. he’s gorgeous and he himself knows that.

footsteps resonates from somewhere far away. by the sound of it, it’s someone wearing high heels. their teacher.

“jaemin? lisa?” her voice rings through the hallway.

“oh fuck,” jaemin rakes a hand through his dark pink hair.

lisa’s eyes widens.

instinctively, he reaches forward to grab lisa’s wrist. she hates it when he touches her in public, but this time she lets it slide.

he looks around, panicked. he squints at a white metal door, labelled GIRLS LOCKER ROOM. and then he turns his head to look at her. she shakes her head, as if saying “that’s a terrible idea”.

his eyebrows furrowed as he grits his teeth, brown eyes fuming with desperation to get out of being caught.

“if we don’t go right now, we’re toast.” he forces out. “please.”

in his brown eyes, lisa saw something she’s never seen before.

“i’m already on probation.”

silence from her.

“i’ll be expelled.” he finally says.

lisa hasn’t found the words to say but regardless she runs, pulling him with her. he lets out a noise similar to yelp as she drags him to the locker room, the shuffling of their sneakers against the ground echoing in the hallway.  the door of the locker room falls shut, lisa hurrying to it to turn the lock on the door knob.

“damn it, she heard us,” he murmurs.

“yeah you should have thought about that before following me out of class, huh. ” lisa crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

“can’t help it,” his serious expression completely changes when his lips quirk up into a cheeky smile. “this skirt you’re wearing— ” he extends his index finger, clad in a silver ring lisa always sees him wearing. the tip of his finger brushes against the skin on the inside of her wrist. “—is driving me insane.”

“you disgust me,” lisa spits and turns away. she’s suddenly self-conscious about the pencil skirt she’s wearing. it isn’t even short, rising about two inches above her knees. she doesn’t want to be dress coded.

“me?” jaemin clutches his hand to his chest. his pretty lips forms a pout, face mocking her. “ouch.”

“jaemin, i swear to god.” she glares at him. “i will—“

“you’ll what?” he inches closer.

“i’ll...” once again, she can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“what about this,” he’s probably plotting something in that complicated mind of his.

lisa leans on the locker, waiting for him to draw out something strange as a proposition to pass time.

“we utilise the time we have right now,” his eyes drift up to see the clock hung up on the wall above the lockers. “we’ve got an hour to spare.”

“jaemin,” she sighs. “why?”

“why what?” jaemin’s front teeth sinks into his bottom lip.

“why would you risk expulsion just to follow me out?”

“because lisa, it’s you.” he says plainly.

“bullshit,” lisa spits. “you tell this to every girl you fuck, don’t you?”

“i don’t fuck anyone but you.” genuine hurt flashed in his eyes. in those eyes lisa saw a fracture in the mask of him––being someone who hits and runs, of someone who is afraid of commitment––that he’s been wearing this whole time. a fracture where maybe there is hope for him.

but no, she refuses to believe that.

“then who was that girl you—“

“right, because you believe all those girls you constantly surround yourself with.” without even saying anything else, jaemin already knew where lisa got her information from.

lisa is silent.

“they’re toxic,” jaemin says. his face is like an open book. it has disgust written all over it.

“what do you know about toxic?” lisa counters. “look at the guys you hang out with.”

“fair enough,” he breathes, jaw unclenching and eyes softening.

for the first time ever, she saw something like hurt flash in those brown eyes of his. seeing jaemin actually affected by what she said sparks up something in lisa. now, he doesn’t dare meet her eyes and that’s never happened before. ever.

she opens her mouth to say something, but can’t when jaemin covers her lips with his own, arms snaking around her waist to pull her closer.

he murmurs her name and pushes her against the locker. hands braced on the cold metal surface, he pulls away from her painfully. adrenaline courses through their bodies as their breathing becomes more laboured. jaemin cracks a smile, chest heaving up and down.

“we’re doing this, aren’t we?”

“shut up and kiss me,” lisa tugs him back to her with fingers bunched around his t-shirt.

jaemin laughs against her lips. lisa feels his teeth scrape her bottom lip from his smile, forcing her mouth open. and then his tongue slips in. sneaky bastard.

he grunts when she lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and out of the way. jaemin removes his mouth from her only to attach it to her neck. his arms bring her even closer until he was flush against her body. her hands wander across his abdomen, her fingertips feeling the defined crevices of his abs.

he sucks on the delicate skin of her neck, triggering a moan from the girl pinned against the locker. she closes her eyes while he works his way down. his fingers push the collar of her t-shirt to the side for access to her pale skin.

“we’re short on time,” jaemin kneels down on the ground, in front of where she wants him the most.

“you think i don’t know that?” lisa leans her head against the metal door of the locker, hands in his hair.

he traces the waistband of her skirt, eyes flicking up at her intently. on his lips is a smirk, knowing how much she wants him regardless of the way she acted towards him. he’s teasing her and she might light on fire if he doesn’t do anything.

he slides his hands around her hips to search for the zipper. he finds it, sliding it down. lisa feels the garment loosen around her.

“may i?” jaemin is the only thing keeping her skirt in place. he stands back up, hands still clutching the skirt. he’s waiting for her approval, her consent.

“yes,” lisa places her hands on his shoulders when he lets her skirt fall to the floor.

“jump, baby.” he whispers in her ear.

she does exactly as he says, her legs enveloping around his waist. her arms flies around his shoulders, her lips trailing up his neck to the back of his ear, where she whispers,

“you better hurry or we’ll get caught.”

as if the thought of getting caught turns jaemin on, he groans and lisa feels his hard-on pressing against her clothed core. his hands slide up her legs and to the waistband of her underwear.

despite all the heat that simmers between them, his eyes are worried as he asks, “are you sure?”

“jaemin,” she breathes in his ear, giving a taste of what he won’t hear if he kept this up. “yes, i am.”

“a hundred percent?” he just has the audacity to ask so many questions while he stands right between her legs, doesn’t he?

“fuck me already, jaemin.” lisa sinks her teeth into his neck and just like that, he throws his head back as a moan escapes his lips.

his look of euphoria distorts into a seductive smirk, wrapping an arm around her waist. his other hand reaches between their two bodies to the waistband of her underwear, curling his fingers in and dragging it down to her ankles, where he expertly completely rids her of that last clothing that is in the way.

“it’ll be my pleasure,” he says lowly, almost like a growl.

his fingers stretch forward to give lisa her the first stroke on her bundle of nerves.

she arches against the locker. jaemin slides his arm that was around her body out only to cover her mouth with his large hand, preventing the sounds of her moans to echo across the locker room out and into the open. there’s nothing left to support her except jaemin’s toned torso and the hard locker.

“you have to be quiet for me, okay?” jaemin. “or we’ll get into fucking trouble.”

lisa nods against his hand around her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut as he inserts two fingers into her. under his hand she bites her lip. hard.

“fuck,” jaemin pants.

he pumps his digits in and out of her and watch lisa completely lose it under him. suddenly, his black jeans are too tight around his crotch. his thumb rubs circles around her folds to penetrate her even further than he already has. his bottom lip catches under his teeth while he increases his speed, already feeling her walls tighten around his fingers.

he knows she’d come undone when he whispers, “come for me, baby.”

she screams into his palm as the first release shatters through her. complete and utter pleasure runs through her bloodstream like a drug.

jaemin removes his hand from her mouth and brings his arm down once again to wrap around lisa’s figure. he peers at her face, beautiful and flustered. he feels her chest rising and falling heavily against his own and he couldn’t take how much his arousal piled up in his pants anymore.

“lisa,” he whispers as he retracts his fingers from her.

“what, jaemin?” lisa rests her head in the crook of his neck while she recovers from her high.

“i want to—“

“just do it,” she already knows what he was going to say. “fuck me.”

a silver package appears in his hands after sliding it into the back pocket of his jeans. to save him some work, lisa reaches forward between them to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans. she huffs a laugh after seeing the tent that forms in his jeans.

jaemin glares at her dangerously without a word being said. just from that look, lisa feels herself drip between her legs.

“no regrets?” he hums in her ear, his voice a sweet melody she’ll never get used to hearing.

“no regrets.”

below her line of vision, lisa hears the unrolling of latex. jaemin slides the condom over his length with one hand, the other running up and down lisa’s bare legs. he just wants to please her. he just wants to make her feel so good she forgets her own name.

“lisa,” he groans as he runs his length along her folds.

“jaemin,” lisa echoes. her hands somehow found their way back into his hair.

he reaches down to align himself up with her. “i love you.”

he didn’t give her time to respond when he pushes his length into her. jaemin presses his lips onto hers as if he could swallow the whimpers that escape from them.

he keeps his grip on her firm as he starts off excruciatingly slow, in order for her to adjust to his size. sliding out of her slowly, he thrusts himself roughly back into her. the impact made her cry out, her eyelids screwing shut.

“jaemin,” it may be blood she tastes in her mouth from biting her lip too hard.

she has her head buried in his shoulder while he rolls his hips into hers, length fucking her with deep, solid strokes.

“you feel so good,” he purrs in lisa’s ears, sending shivers down her spine.

his hips, flush against hers, made him sink into her to the hilt she started seeing stars. he maintains eye contact with her while he develops a rhythm. a rhythm that he’s never used on her before. a rhythm more harsh, more punishing.

his mouth remains close to her ear, whispering profanities with every plunge he makes. his fingernails dig into the skin of her hips, marking her and bruising her skin. her fingers pull on his hair, multiplying the wave of pleasure that seems to strike jaemin all at once. the tightness around his cock, the tug in his hair...

it took all his might not to come right there and then.

speaking of which, he’s about to drive lisa over the edge once again. and he can FEEL it. he feels her thighs trembling and the sinful sounds that slip out her mouth gradually getting louder.

lisa, too, is trying her best to last. but with jaemin, it’s almost impossible. she feels pressure build up in her abdomen, her walls closing in on him. she trembles under his erratic movements, tugging harder on his hair and teeth sinking into the skin of his neck.

“c’mon, baby. you can do it.” those are simple words that slip out carelessly out of jaemin’s lips. those are words that lisa knows will bring her to her climax. “come for me.”

“fuck, jaemin,” release barrels down her spine, her cry muted by his mouth over hers. the second climax that struck her is the biggest one yet, where she trembled in his arms from pleasure. seeing release unravel her causes jaemin’s own release to  hit.

he drags out a low groan as he presses his head on the locker, beside lisa’s head when he released into condom.

“fuck, lisa,” his pants are hard.

she tilts her head back while they ride out their high. her walls pulsate around his cock and jaemin almost comes again just by the feel of it. he places his lips on her neck, his tongue swiping by her collarbone. he sucks on the skin by her collarbone, knowing very well it would mark her. she moans for the last time after feeling jaemin’s teeth settle in the hollow of her neck.

he pulls out of her, ridding himself of the condom by tossing it in the bin placed conveniently at the corner. he lets her down, careful to hold her up with both his arms.

“can you walk?” jaemin’s tone is teasing while a smirk hangs on his face.

“fuck you,” lisa glares at him.

“already did,” he shrugs.

lisa groans and places a hand on her forehead. they promised each other. no regrets.

“okay,” he bends down to hook his arm behind her knees and across her shoulders.

she shrieks when he lifts her up in his arms. “jaemin— i need to put my clothes back on.”

“let’s streak in the hallway, shall we?” he nuzzles his nose in the crook of her neck.

“so much for caring about being expelled,” lisa rolls her eyes but regardless links her arms around his neck. “please let me down.”

“but i love you,” he whispers into her ear.

she goes very still.

it’s been years since she’s heard those words from him. last time he said it, it was a dare from a foolish friend and just now, before he lost himself inside of her.

“jae—“

“i really do, lisa.”  he lets her down, back onto her feet. “i was hoping maybe we could try.”

lisa slips her clothing back on, reaching to the back and zipping her skirt up while her eyes remains constantly on his.

“i...” she takes one step closer to him. “we can try.”

“we can?” his eyebrows perk up. lisa laughs at his adorable expression.

“only because i love you too,” she cups his chiseled jaw in her hands gently. “but you better not tell anyone.”

he smiles brighter than the sun that leaks through the window, leaning forward and nudging his nose against hers, making her laugh again.

a/n i know this isn’t your usual ‘y/n’ story but i really hoped you enjoyed my first ever smut published on tumblr!! i tried to make it as something that can proceed without a plot but i can’t seem to write anything without a little backstory. 

anyway, i find myself enjoying writing these one-shots so prepare for many more to come since i have nothing to do with my life

lots and lots of love,

ally

#nct smut #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct dream smut #na jaemin #jaemin smut #badboy!jaemin #badboy au #nct imagines #one shot #smut #imagines

[janeofcakes]

KYFC..: Chapter 14

Hello, my friends! It’s been a whirlwind of a week. My days were all screwed up and everything went so quickly - meetings, cataloging and the lot. Even my daughter (7) has noticed how quickly time goes now. Friday was the last day of school and we are now in talks here because parental units want to see schoolwork and schedule continue while the childrens want them to end. They actually sat down together in a secret conference and wrote out their ”demands”. You say cute, I say eek!

But enough about that, the bout with the Ravens is finally upon us! Instead of my usual snarky teasing, I know how disappointed you are (Ha!), I wanted to define a few terms again and explain one or two things.

Pack - the largest group of blockers from both teams skating within ten feet of each other.

Blocker - a skater who tries to prevent the jammer from skating around the track and scoring points.

Jammer - the skater who skates around the track and aims to pass all of the blockers on the opposite team. A point is scored for each opposing team blocker the jammer passes. 

Lead jammer - the jammer who breaks through the pack first (no points are scored on the initial break through. The lead jammer controls the jam and can call it off at any time, unless in the penalty box.

Not a term here, but when I refer to a triangle formation it is made of of three blockers. One faces the jammer and is the head, or top, of the triangle. The two remaining blockers stand side by side, facing the head of the triangle and facing away from the jammer. The head has a hand one of of each of their shoulders and they each have a hand on her shoulders. This keep the triangle tight and steady. The head shouts commands to the other two blockers because she can best see the jammer.

I hope that all makes sense. Off we go!

---

To tell the truth, I am getting away with murder. It is impossible to never tell the truth, but the reality is I’m getting away with murder.                                            --Papa Roach, Getting Away with Murder

“Watch out for 32. She hits hard and she has your number,” Sherlock’s eyes are narrow slits when he looks to Harry in the tight huddle they form with Hella, Groot, Smacks and The Woman just outside the track.

“No shit. She’s been hittin’ my ass every jam. I’m working on a bruise bigger than the fucking space needle,” Harry hisses angrily, annoyance and adrenaline rolling off her in waves.

Sherlock stares at her coolly. He runs a few scenarios in his mind palace as she continues to curse in a steady stream, becoming more and more creative as she goes. A second later and his eyes are focused again. 

“What can I do about this fuckstick? It’s like I have target on my back,” Harry complains. “How the fuck do I stop her riding my ass?”

“Can’t really blame her, love,” Clara Hell on Wheels teases with a flirtatious grin and a glance at HardOn’s posterior.

“She always takes turns tightly and comes in on the left,” Sherlock tells her. “Visibly brace yourself for the hit she wants you to expect and then make her miss. Hella and Smacks will pick her up. Groot, work on their blockers so The Woman can get through.” He looks around the circle at the face of each skater, the calm that only a plan can bring in his eyes. Each of their expressions changes in turn to reflect steady certainty where there had been chaos.

“Right. The left,” HardOn furrows her brow as she pictures what her coach has described. “That’ll work.”

“Ready then, ladies?” The Woman asks with a broad grin on her blood red lips.

“You bet your ass,” Hella replies, holding out her hand in the center of their circle. Everyone, including Sherlock, covers her hand and each of theirs in turn.

“For Rock City,” Groot says solemnly.

“And glory,” Smacks adds.

They all raise their hands collectively in a gesture of power, their faces already in triumph as if by the power of Greyskull, they have the power! Their hands drop with the kind of assertiveness held only by a true badass who knows no one can fuck with her turf. The Woman twirls her head toward the track dramatically in invitation to the others to join her. They each nod, steel in their eyes and tenacity on their faces as all five women skate onto the track and get into position while Sherlock remains on the sideline. He cannot resist a quick look to John, who is across the track standing in the aisle with spectators all around. He looks inconspicuous enough, but can hear most of what the other team is saying. It is perfectly legal as far as the official rules go, but the two men have to watch carefully that they do not do anything that looks even remotely like signaling. Any cheating results in disqualification and Rock City is still undefeated at this point, which is difficult, but not unheard of.

“Ten seconds!” the timer shouts and all ten women on the track bend their knees and straighten their spines. The whole stadium vibrates with energy, fans for both teams stomping and shouting. The whistle blows as the timer drops her arm from where it was held aloft and the track springs to life.

The Woman plunges her lanky body into the triangle of Ravens blockers nearly slipping between them right off the line, but the skater acting as the head of the trio closes the gap and prevents her escape from the pack. Face to face, they snarl at each other as The Woman gives a good push and then hops to the right on her toe stops, lunging forward and pumping her legs. Not to be undone, the trio moves with her, still in triangle formation. They tighten the iron grip on one another’s shoulders to stay together as they move. The skater closest to the outer side of the track shoves The Woman with her ass in an attempt to knock her out of bounds. The Woman sees it instantly and twirls to keep her skates inside the line, circumnavigating around that ass and cutting to the left, only to meet the fourth blocker in the pack. Hungry to break through, she continues to hop and push at the blockers.

Meanwhile, HardOn and company have formed an unbreakable wall for #32. She shifts this way and that, snapping her teeth as she bites at the air in an intimidating effort. Hella barks orders at HardOn, Smacks and Groot so they stay in her way.

“In! In! Out, out, out!”

“I’m going around!” Groot shouts.

“Go, go, go!” Hella answers and the three maintain the wall while Groot skates away from the pack and all the way around the track. When she rejoins, it is with the other group of women where she slams into one. With a satisfied gleam in her eye, Groot knocks her on her ass and shoves toward a second skater. The Woman takes the opportunity to follow behind Groot and dart around the whole group. The fourth blocker lunges to pick her up and misses, leaving The Woman to glide away free and clear, blowing a kiss as she goes and earning lead jammer. One of the trio lashes out at Groot in frustration, dropping her to her knees and drawing a penalty. She heads for the box as The Woman weaves her way around her own teammates and the opposing team with such grace and skill, earning four more points for Rock City.

Finally, #32 breaks free from her own wall of blockers and skates away furiously. Suddenly unoccupied, Smacks throws a skillful shot at the trio of Ravens readying to block out The Woman and creating enough of a scuffle that The Woman weaves between them all a second time. Groot forms up with Hella and HardOn readying for another attack by 32, who started building speed as soon as she broke away from the pack.

“HardOn, look out!” Smacks shouts just before 32 slams into her as hard as she can. 

The warning was meant to help, but only succeeds in startling HardOn and increasing the effect of the hit. Her eyes wide in terror, HardOn flies right off her skates. It happens in a split-second, but the scene plays out in slow-motion for everyone in the stadium. HardOn hovers in mid-air with a curse on her lips before slamming right into Smacks, normal speed returning as 32 spirals into the mix. They skid out of bounds in a tangle of limbs and loud grunts, Smacks on the bottom and taking the full force of the other two skaters. Her scream echoes through the stadium at impact and she clutches at her calf as soon as they come to a stop.

Whistles blow loudly, three in rapid succession, as Sherlock rushes onto the track. In spite of being closer, somehow John gets there first. He calls for his bag and begins assessing the damage. Sherlock squats next to him.

“Fracture?” he asks in a serious tone. 

“Yes,” John nods. His lips press into a thin line, his brows drawing together in concentration.

“How bad?” Sherlock can’t keep his voice from trembling, his genuine fear for Smacks threatening to surface.

“Not good. It’s near the knee,” John glances up when Trixie sets the medical bag next to them. “Ta.”

Sherlock releases a harsh breath through his nose as he turns to the side and motions for a stretcher. Every skater in the stadium, on and off the track, is down on one knee in solidarity. Smacks is biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She holds her breath and then inhales sharply as John continues examining her leg while he asks questions. She bites back a cry and squirms, which only seems to increase her pain.

“It hurts here?” John asks with raised brows and she nods.

“John?” Sherlock fixes him with a steel gaze.

“Her ankle may be broken too,” he replies after gently squeezing one last time. “I need an x-ray. Could be sprained, but I’d say broken.”

Two men place a stretcher next to the fallen skater and unbuckle its straps.

“You have an ambulance on standby, yeah?” he asks them.

“Yes, sir,” the one with plugs in his stretched earlobes answers.

“Good. I want to take her straight to the closest ER. If her tibia is broken the way I think it is, she’ll need surgery,” John’s voice is crisp. He is in full-on doctor mode, his orders for the two men clear and concise. 

“Surgery?!” Smacks queries in a hushed voice that sounds like a gasp.

“Don’t worry, Janine,” John’s eyes soften as he turns them toward her. His face relaxes and his body language is open, honest and comforting. “I’ll see you through it every step. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

She can only nod a pained grimace and then let her mouth fall open in a silent scream as pain racks her body. At John’s advice, she tries to keep her body limp as he and the two men lift her onto the stretcher and strap her in. She still bites off moans with every movement and looks more than a little grateful once secure. John turns to Sherlock while she is being wheeled away. 

“I’ll phone you as soon as I know anything concrete,” he promises.

Sherlock nods, giving John’s arm a tight squeeze as he pushes him off the track and towards the exit. John understands, gives Sherlock a tight smile and jogs after Smacks.

***

The rest of the bout goes without a hitch. Rock City wins by fifteen points. Sherlock receives a call from John just after his celebratory remarks in the locker room. He confirms an oblique fracture of the tibia, just under the knee and a stable fracture of the fibula where it meets the talus. Both require surgery and John will stay at the hospital until Smacks is resting comfortably. Sherlock gives the news to the team once everyone is on the bus for the hotel.

“Fuck me,” HardOn breathes an astonished whisper. “That shoulda been me.”

Hella finds her hand and holds it tightly, a misty look in her eyes as she lays her head on HardOn’s shoulder. The bus is quiet, every skater exhausted, and in a haze of worry and regret. Watching them from his seat at the front, Sherlock straightens his spine and calls out so all can hear.

“Janine is in the best care with John. Concern for her is admirable. It’s what a team is, but we have nothing to fear,” his words float over every skater and he can already see them perking up.

“You best your ass, Coach,” HardOn answers boisterously, Hella raising her head again with a grin. “Ph.D.’s the best of the best. We don’t keep him on just for his body, after all.”

“Not that it isn’t reason enough,” The Woman leers and the bus erupts into laughter.

Sherlock eases back into his seat, listening as the ladies crack jokes and bolster one another. A small smile of pride tugs at his lips. Despite the accidents and obstacles, the ladies are a team above all else. They band together on and off the track like a family. The smile grows as Sherlock’s words from their first bout emerge from a corner of his mind palace; the ladies never cease to amaze him.

Upon their arrival at the hotel, the ladies head up to their rooms to stow their gear and meet back in the bar for a drink or two.

“To Smacks,” Trixie raises a glass. “To the surgeons and steady hands. To a speedy recovery.”

“Hear, hear,” The Woman declares. Every skater echoes her words and they all down a shot. Sherlock taps his empty glass on the table thoughtfully.

“Coach?” Trixie asks in a quiet voice. He turns his gaze on the acting captain and straightens his spine.

“Make sure they’re all in their rooms by midnight. We have to be at the airport at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Will do,” she promises and adds with a wink. “I’ll see to Harry personally.”

Sherlock cannot stop a quiet huff of mirth and he pats her shoulder in thanks as he rises. 

“I’m going to the hospital,” he informs the cheerful team in a loud voice. 

“Tell Smacks we’re thinking of her,” Trixie gives him a nudge and meets his eyes.

“I will,” he assures. He nods at each of them in turn and hastens out of the bar.

Sherlock spends the cab ride telling Greg about the bout and Smacks’ injury. He scrubs a hand through his curls as they discuss it at length, as well as #32’s apparent personal vendetta against HardOn.

“It was no accident, Greg. That woman was on Harry’s case from the moment it started,” he says with certainty. “She was the target. If she had impacted the track with that force, she would have broken more than two bones. Janine was in both the right and wrong place.”

His leg bounces restlessly on the seat, the only outlet for his agitation.

“Jesus, Sherlock,” Greg’s voice is full of shocked disbelief. “Do you think Harry will be targeted again?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replies. “They will not stop until they succeed.”

“But why would someone on the Ravens help James Moriarty?” Greg asks. “Assuming you still think he’s responsible after this.”

“I don’t know,” Sherlock ignores the comment, “but I intend to find out.”

“Sherlock, don’t do anything foolish,” Greg cautions. “Where are you?”

“On my way to the hospital,” his response is quiet, but books no argument.

“Good. Yes. Stay with John and stay out of trouble. We’ll figure this out when you get home,” Greg says with a hint of that GM instruction in his tone.

Sherlock sighs and rolls his eyes at Greg’s big-brother overtones. The call ends just as the cab pulls up to the hospital. Sherlock pays the driver and walks swiftly into the building. He makes a few polite inquiries into John and Janine’s whereabouts, resisting the urge to snap at every person in his way. Taking a quick detour to stop at the hospital coffee shop, he ultimately pushes into the day of surgery waiting room. John is alone, save a couple mumbling in low tones to one another in the corner.

“John,” he says quietly as he approaches the doctor. John looks up and Sherlock offers one of the two coffee cups in his hands. “Just the way you like it.”

“Thanks,” a smile plays at the side of his mouth and he takes the cup.

Sherlock sits next to him and they both sip their coffees. He tries to read John in sideways glances. He looks tired, but not worried or frazzled. Assured of Janine’s condition, Sherlock allows himself to relax further and take a moment to observe John. It is quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes; watching John. John’s face is all soft lines and dimples. His eyes are the color of the ocean, clear blue like a sunny day with expressive specks of midnight. His cheeks grow a most delightful shade of pink while Sherlock watches him. He finally stops his observations when John clears his throat and sits up straight in his chair. A bit not good, he supposes.

“Janine is in surgery?” he asks in spite of its obvious answer.

“Yep. They’re setting the tibia and repairing the ankle. Should be finished in an hour or so,” John turns his head to face him. “Did we win the match-up?”

“We did,” Sherlock nods, admiring the brilliant smile his answer receives. His stomach does a flip.

“That’s good. The record stands,” John replies. “Janine was fretting on the way here.”

“Harry delivered an ass-kicker of a hit to 32,” Sherlock adds, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “and wasn’t called for it.”

“Janine will like hearing that,” John grins. They both chuckle quietly, an edge of tiredness to the sound. John sighs and looks at Sherlock, leaning his temple against the wall. “It’s going to be at least two or three hours before I’ll be able to see her, depending on how quickly she wakes from anesthesia. You don’t have to stay.”

“You don’t have to stay alone,” Sherlock replies in a quiet tone, not to disturb the couple. John lifts his head to look at him fully. They can both feel exhaustion ebbing and flowing from the other like the tide.  

“You and the ladies are leaving tomorrow morning,” John reminds him.

“Irrelevant,” Sherlock waves him off.

“Sherlock, you have to be there by nine,” John argues, trying to make him see reason.

“I want to stay, John,” Sherlock snaps in an angry and too loud voice. He glances toward the room’s other two occupants and they avert their eyes when he catches them staring. Sherlock shifts his body to look at John and effectively turns his back on them. When he faces him, John appears very unamused to say the least. 

“I want to stay with you,” Sherlock continues in a calmer voice.

John’s face goes all soft and he tilts his head. Though he says nothing at first, he places a gentle hand on Sherlock’s. It is warm and feels like home.

“There’s nothing I’d love more, but it’s already so late and getting the ladies through an airport is like herding cats,” John laughs when Sherlock cracks a smile. “That’s what you Americans call it, yeah?”

“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock protests while nodding in answer to the question. “They aren’t juvenile delinquents.”

“I don’t know,” John responds in mock skepticism. “I’m not so sure about Harry.”

Sherlock bursts out laughing, much to his own surprise. Not missing that fact, John starts in too and they both descend into quiet giggles when the receptionist gives them a stern look.

“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock repeats in a whisper. “Clara will help keep her on track. She’ll follow her anywhere.”

“True enough. They’re rather adorable that way,” John’s eyes twinkle.

“Don’t tell them you said that,” Sherlock chuckles darkly.

“Well, I don’t have a death wish now, do I?” John raises a knowing brow.

The giggles begin anew and only slow when Sherlock realizes John’s hand is still on his. He looks down at it solemnly and then meets John’s eyes again. He sees all the blues of the sea and his mind begins to catalog them all. He sees pure and utter fondness and friendship. He sees his future.

Sherlock turns his hands under John’s and twines their fingers together as he lifts them to his lips, pressing a kiss to John’s knuckles. The doctor lets out a breath and bites his lower lip. Sherlock’s eyes track every movement. He mirrors the action and then slowly, deliberately glides his tongue across his own upper lip, knowing his teasing has John’s full attention. He raises his eyes only after John’s breathless gasp reaches his ears. They stare at one another for a full minute before John clears his throat and breaks the spell. Sherlock lowers their hands, but does not let go.

“I wish you could come back with us,” he mutters.

“If all goes well, we’ll be able to follow in 24 hours. It won’t be long,” John reassures him.

Sherlock gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand. The corners of John’s mouth turn up. Sherlock feels… He feels happy and contented. His only source of disquiet is that John will not be with them on the plane. Janine may need him, but it still feels wrong. He does not want to leave John here.

“It’ll be fine, Sherlock. We’ll be fine,” John tells him and Sherlock looks at him thoughtfully.

“I would like to,” Sherlock murmurs into the space between them.

“What?” John’s brow knits in confusion.

“What we talked about before,” he clarifies. “To date. If you are amenable, that is.”

John’s brows rise to his hairline and his lips stretch into a beautiful grin. God, those lips. Sherlock wants to nibble and lick them until John is boneless, completely undone, taken apart piece by gorgeous piece. He wants to feel them move against his own mouth and his neck and his shoulder. He wants to see them wrapped around his rock hard cock.

Sherlock visibly jumps at the thought, startled by his raw desire for John. He jerks his hand away without meaning to and the doctor’s smile is gone when he looks at him.

“Hey, no, I want that. I want to date,” John says, his brows knitted in concern now. He nearly misses the tiny nod Sherlock gives him. John hesitates for a second before covering Sherlock’s hand with his again. An electric shock shoots up Sherlock’s arm at the touch, though he keeps himself from jumping this time. John is smiling now. A glorious, brilliant smile. “I’d absolutely love it.”

A wide grin instantly spreads across the coach’s face. Given the fact that John said he had never loved anyone he dated in the past, using the word so freely now and in this context makes Sherlock’s heart swell. He should not dare to hope; John truly cannot promise their relationship will be any different. Even so, Sherlock cannot help himself because maybe, just maybe it means John will realize his true feelings for him.

“I’d love that too,” Sherlock whispers as he rests his forehead against John’s.

---

Oh my god. Action-packed (I hope all the derby action was understandable), another injury (the plot thickens), and then a tender moment for our leading men. Awwwww. I know what you’re saying: Jane, this fucking chapter has it all! What is in store for Rock City? (Defeat? Glory?) What is in store for our intrepid duo? (Danger? Romance?) Only time will tell, my friends. Oh, to know the inner workings of The Mind of Jane. ‘Tis a scary place.

As always, I hope this has brought you all some distraction and solace. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading with me, loving these two idiots with me, and sharing this with me in these uncertain times. I love you all. Jane

@zentris @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @tooolforthissh--stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedsstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa  @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow @one-thousand-splendid-stars @irina12maria

Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the list. My apologies to anyone I have neglected to this point. I pledge to do better.

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlockholmes #sherlock loves john #sherlock fanfic #sherlock roller derby #john watson #johnwatson #johnlock #Johnlock fanfic #johnlock au

[snarky-badger]

Sequel to that Murphy's law reader? like She super paranoid going out and because of that the reader like really observant; the point where she can use her unluckiness to her advantage in a dangerous situation, like being chased by some thugs and they have a horrible time! an oil drum burst causing them to slip around, getting run over by a piano, and attacked by birds. before finally catching the reader in a dead end only for Venom jump in after enjoying "the show".

Prompt #2 - I feel like i’m not alone to fell in love with your “serie of unfortunate Events” did you follow the story with the reader meeting eddie or just keep writing it? Because i really love it i never see something that accurate with my life! It’s amazing!    

Part 3 of what people have dubbed 'Murphy's Law Reader'. Part 1, Part 2

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It took weeks after Venom's 'visit' for the building across from yours to fix the damage from both his little rampage and his written message clawed into the brick. The gun runner that had been Venom's prey had been found headless, amidst a pile of guns, ammunition and drugs. Bullet holes had marred the apartment's walls, signs of a struggle that had been rather one-sided.

It really should have bothered you, you knew it should have bothered you - Venom calmly eating brownies in your apartment before going to decapitate a bad guy. But it didn't. Not really.

Which was why you didn't bat an eye at baking more triple chocolate brownies the next day. Once cooled, you'd put them into a large Tupperware, then duct taped the entire thing to the side of the building just outside your window.

You didn't see Venom again, though three times you checked and found the Tupperware empty, and three times you refilled it with more brownies.Things went back to as normal as they could with you. You went to work - where computers would randomly refuse to function around you, printers would start printing gibberish if you walked past, and the IT department low-key thought you were some sort of computer virus come to life.

Then came the week of hell.

Monday, after your computer monitor had mysteriously started to emit a foul-smelling smoke, you'd been forced to walk home after the bus had broken down a block before needing to pick you up, and almost twisted an ankle after a cat had just bolted out of an alley and dashed across your path.

Tuesday, you'd been demoted to the mail room since your computer was still on the fritz and had nearly sliced your palm open with a exacto knife while fighting to open a box of toner for the Xerox machine.

Wednesday, you'd arrived at work drenched because a truck had motored through a deep puddle next to the sidewalk. Then someone had decided to microwave some foul-smelling fish dish in the microwave, and the smell had infected the entire floor of the building.

Thursday, you'd been sent back to your desk and your new monitor, whereupon your ergonomic chair had mysteriously dumped you on your head when the back of it had given way. Your flailing arm had caught the cord of your mouse and ripped it out of the computer tower. IT had merely sighed and handed you a new one.

Friday, your MP3 player that kept you sane while working had died, and no amount of prayer or charging could revive it. You'd been forced to listen to your the cubical-over's horrible music on their radio. It hadn't even been in English. Or Spanish. It had been some weird, high pitched thing with screaming and bells. Weird. Migraine inducing too.

You'd been so desperate to escape the horrible music that you'd snuck out of work early.

It was a sunny day - which meant no puddles. No cats bolted out in front of you. You were hoping to get home without any insanity, because you were really, really, tired. All you wanted to do was get home and hibernate until Monday.

Naturally, fate decided to throw a monkey wrench into that plan too.

Fucking fate. That bitch.

You were halfway home, crossing the street, when a cat call caught your attention. You turned towards the source of the whistle, meeting the gaze of a man who gave you a visible look-over and a leer, before he started to walk towards you.

Fuck no. You stopped that shit by glaring at him and giving him the finger before hustling into a little coffee shop for safety. He didn't follow you in. Taking a break and getting yourself a hot chocolate and a donut wasn't what you had planned, but it was better than dealing with Mr. I-Have-No-Respect-For-Women.

Only when you'd finished your sweet treat and made certain that the asshole was gone did you leave the shop. It was late evening, and the sun was starting it's descent. You hurried, wanting to get home, wanting, more than anything, to get out of your bra and put on a tee and shorts and just relax.

You were five blocks away when you heard fast footsteps from behind. You were already starting to turn when a hand grasped your left arm and tugged you to a stop.

"You can't take a compliment?"

Fuck. Your. Life.

"Let me go." You pulled on your arm, trying to get free. The man who'd cat called you merely tightened his grip until you were certain that you were going to have bruises, his dark eyes narrowing.

"I gave you a compliment. Least you could do is not flip me off like some whore."

"You cat-called me, asshole! That's not a goddamn compliment!" Growling you kicked him in the knee, then stomped on his foot. His grip on you loosened enough that you were able to twist your arm free. You paused long enough to whack him in the face with your heavy purse before spinning and making a run for it.

No need to bother looking back either. Just fucking run. This wasn't the time to hope for the good in mankind, this asshole was off his rocker.

Not surprisingly, you heard him yell and heard the sounds of pursuit, heavy footfalls pounding the sidewalk. No one that you weaved around bothered to even look up from their phones or bother to realize that you were in trouble. You poured on the speed, dodging people, hoping that nothing stupid would get in your way and trip you up enough that idiot would catch up and get his hands on you.

Naturally, someone splashed water onto the sidewalk ahead of you, suds and cleaning fluid from a mop bucket flowing over the concrete. You were going too fast to slow down, so you braced yourself for the worst, barely managing to stay upright as you skidded through it. The idiot behind you cursed loudly as he slipped, falling to his hands and knees in the suds and screaming at the poor store owner.

Well. Murphy's Law did help now and again. Didn't think it was possible.

Still, you kept going.

Four blocks to go.

Block three, and the asshat had re-caught up to you. Goddamn dude was quick, you had to give him that. Didn't think he had it in him - he'd stunk of cheap cigarettes and cologne. Though you didn't admire his persistence. Wondered how many other women he'd manhandled into going out with him or whatever. The thought made your stomach turn a little. Gross little man.

Three blocks, and his grasping fingers touched your back. You ducked, throwing yourself under a large table that two movers were carrying into an apartment building. You scraped your knees, but idiot ploughed into the piece of furniture and went down hard. The movers weren't too happy with him either, yelling at him and showing not one ounce of mercy for the moron on the ground.

You risked a laugh as you scrambled up to your feet and forced yourself back into a sprint. Two blocks. You could make that. Hopefully the asshat would stay down - ploughing into a wood table at high speed couldn't have felt good.

"Goddamn bitch!"

Well. There was something to be said about his tenacity.

Groaning, you darted past a man on a ladder trying to change a light on a sign, rolling your eyes when he dropped the bulb just as you went by, the 'pop!' of the bulb shattering and the flying glass making Mr. Moron behind you stumble a little.

"Lookout!"

That didn't come from the idiot.

You jerked your gaze forward, then threw yourself to the side, plastering yourself against a building as a Baby Grand Piano rolled past, three men running after the escaped instrument. Caught a glimpse of your personal idiot's eye's widening before he did a Stupid Thing and tried to brace himself to 'catch' said piano.

It didn't end well.

You didn't have to worry about him anymore.

The last block home was journeyed at a calm walk, though you did quirk an eyebrow at the ambulance that roared past, heading towards the, ahem, 'incident'. You stepped into your apartment ten minutes later, sighing tiredly as you locked the door behind you. Dropped your purse onto the floor as you kicked off your shoes, then headed for the fridge and the vodka coolers you kept in stock.

Didn't bother to turn on the lights as you shuffled over to the couch and plopped down onto it, taking a long guzzle of your 'Mike's Hard Lemonade'.

Your life.

No receipt no exchange.

You hoped the piano was okay.

Sighing, you inspected your dress pants, plucking at the material at your knees that was frayed from the friction of the sidewalk. Nuts. You'd have to order a new pair, because your work didn't allow jeans.

You were trying to gather up the willpower to go get changed when you heard a tap at the window. Ignored it for a moment, thinking it was another demented city pigeon, before it happened again, louder than a bird could manage without breaking it's tiny little feathered head open.

Frowning, you got up to see what new hell was trying to break into your apartment, eyes widening when you spotted Venom peering into your apartment, his curiosity quickly replaced by amusement when he saw you.

Sighing again, you went over and lifted the window open. "Sorry, I ran out of flour for the brownies and I haven't gone to the store yet."

"OH, WE'RE NOT HERE FOR THAT, NIBBLE," he rumbled as he squeezed through the window. You backed up a bit as he entered your apartment and rose to his full height, stretching a little. "WE WERE JUST SEEING IF YOU WERE ALRIGHT."

"...alright?"

"FROM THE CHASE."

"The... You... You were there?!" Okay, you were yelling at Venom again. Not something you should make a habit out of. "Why the everlasting fuck didn't you do something?!"

Massive shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "TO BE HONEST, YOU SEEMED TO HAVE A HANDLE ON IT," he told you, before smirking. "AND WE WERE LAUGHING TOO HARD AFTER HE RAN INTO THE TABLE."

You facepalmed.

"THOUGH THE PIANO WAS ENTERTAINING TOO." A low chuckle left him. "YOU REALLY DO ATTRACT THE WORST LUCK."

"Is that why you keep showing up?" you snarked as you went to retrieve your drink, grumbling as you finished it off.

Venom huffed a little at your comment. "WE'LL LET THAT SLIDE."

Another, tired, sigh left you, and your shoulders slumped as you turned to look at him again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. In my defense, I've had a horrible week that just culminated with me getting chased by a pervert."

The exhausted, on edge, broken, tone to your voice pulled some odd thrumming noise from Venom, and you blinked as he took two large steps towards you before wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into a massive bear hug.

You tensed for a moment, your brain trying to make sense of the fact that Venom, of all people, was offering you comfort. But considering all the fuckery as of late, you couldn't bring yourself to really care. It was a hug. You missed hugs.

Closing your eyes, you leaned into him, your own arms wrapping around his waist as you listened to that odd growling noise that was leaving him. One of his taloned hands rose to cup the back of your head, tucking you close, and you relaxed into him. Fuck Murphy's Law. Let it try to get at you now.

He bent down to exhale warm breath into your hair. "BETTER?"

"Yeah." You felt like you should pull away, but he wasn't letting go, and you felt pretty happy to stay where you were. "Thanks."

"WE WERE ORIGINALLY COMING TO THANK YOU FOR THE BROWNIES," Venom told you with another vibrating rumble that rattled your bones. "WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU WANTED TO COME OUT TO SEE THE TOWN WITH US."

"You want me, Disaster Incorporated, to let you swing me around the city on those little webs?" You rose your head from his chest to look up at him. "Seriously?"

He smirked. "WE'RE CERTAIN WE CAN HANDLE ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS."

"You realize that's just asking the Universe to do something, right?"

A laugh left him. "WE'RE STRONG ENOUGH NOT TO GET TAKEN OUT BY A PIANO."

Yeah. You were definitely off your rocker. "Let me get changed into normal clothes and we can go."

The Saturday Edition of the Paper would later cover an odd explosion at a chocolate shop. Where upon a frazzled woman fitting your description was seen running from the store, carrying several boxes of high-quality chocolates, before the Demon of San Francisco swung down, missed picking you up, and pretty much just faceplanted himself into the side of a building.

No one knew where the piano came from, but it was found at the scene of the crime with a large bite taken out of it.

.

#snarky is writing #venom x reader #venom #reader x venom #filled prompts

[artificialqueens]

The Kids are Alright (Katya [Trish] & Cracker) - Dandee

Her name’s Trish and she just got out of her mom’s garage. She’s fourteen days clean and sober by the grace of god (still smokin’ a little bit of pot, but it’s whatevah). It’s all about her, God, and Thanksgivin’. Why? Cause everyday’s Thanksgivin’. And in the words of the great Jimmy Buffet, we all know that Santa stole Thanksgivin’, so now it’s Christmastime– or at least it was a couple months ago. She couldn’t feel her feet last year, but those days are over now– she’s a new woman today.

Trish meets an unlikely character. Friendship/Crackfic

**********************************************

“Thank ya, sir. God bless ya.”

Trish takes the five and tucks it into her tit, watching the guy that gave it to her rejoin his happy-lookin’ lady-friend.

Thank God for tourists.

Her strappy heels drag along the sidewalk as she fumbles with the soft-pack of Pall Malls. Good ole’ tourists, even in February. Guy can’t be that well off if he’s sightseeing in goddamn shitting February but hey, maybe he’s Catholic. Maybe he’s got guilt issues. Or maybe he just wants to get laid. Who cares, it’s Christmas. Or it was. Close enough, whatevah.

She pats her chinchila pockets and groans.

“Eh, crapsticks,” she mumbles, cigarette dangling from her lips. She pats her other tit, then spins around and pats her tush. There ain’t nothin’ there but it’s just crazy– that’s the third lighter today gone missin’. The good lord above’s got her in some kinda purgatory, got her suckin’ on cigarettes but won’t let her smoke ‘em.

Some sense of humor that lady’s got.

“Hey!” She calls, rushes over to a dude headed toward the crosswalk with a stogie. He immediately picks up his pace, and so does she.

“Hey! Hey.” She grabs his elbow and he whirls around, face pink and chapped from the cold. She grabs the cigarette from her lips and waves it to him, “Light me up?”

“Jesus, lady,” he stammers, shrugging her off. He scowls real mean-like at her before he pulls his coat tighter, muttering a “psycho bitch” and turning on his heel.

Trish’s brows furrow as she watches him go. “No–you!” she calls after him, but he just keeps walking. Yeah, keep walkin’. Mean-ass.

People, man.

That’s the thing about the city– for every kind-hearted tourist you get an asshole local who thinks they own the place. An asshole local who still needs a smartphone to get back to their high-rise condo or they get their asses lost. Trish doesn’t have a phone. Doesn’t want one, doesn’t need one. She knows these streets like the back of her hand, could get herself anywhere in this goddamn city quicker than you could say the serenity prayer in a five-thirty rush. She could take the train six times over and not pay a single penny outta her pocket. She could swipe a hotdog stand faster than a knifefight in a phone booth. These ain’t their streets. They’re hers.

A chilly breeze whips from around a building and slaps her in her face. She pops her smoke back in her mouth, shoves her hands deep in her pockets.

She braces herself against it, tense as she steps away from the street. It might be one of those nights tonight, one of those station stairs nights. It smells like piss but at least it’s warm. The dumpster’s always an option, but last time she fell asleep in the can shit got real sticky in the morning. Wakin’ up in a garbage truck isn’t so fun— all that. Ya know.

She watches her feet as she walks slow, putting one foot sexily in front of the other. She smiles at the shimmery silver heels, the way the ankle straps hug her wooly socks. Bobby’s such a sweetheart, thinkin’ of her around Christmastime and gettin’ these. She’s gonna call him again tomorrow. Just gotta find a pay phone that works. But she’ll call him.

A sniffly sound grabs her attention. Trish glances up.

A little girl, standing right outside the train stairs. Blonde hair pulled into a ball on top of her head, sweet little navy blue peacoat. Huggin’ her own waist and lookin’ around scared.

Trish looks behind her, then back again. What, somebody just left her here? People dumpin’ kids now? Christ.

She sticks her cigarette behind her ear and mozies on over to the girl, whistling a low Jimmy Buffet Christmas tune. She strolls past her casually and parks it against the railing of the stairs. She clears her throat.

The girl doesn’t look at her.

Trish coughs, sniffs loud. She catches a little side eye from the kid but that’s about it. The kid just hugs herself tighter, lookin’ straight ahead.

Giving an inaudible sigh, Trish looks around for a sec. She scuffs her heel against the pavement, flaps her coat. Then, after a moment, out of the corner of her mouth,

“You, uh– you got a light?”

The girl blinks once, twice. Then her face scrunches up and she looks at Trish, all brown eyed and buck toothed.

“Wh– what?”

Trish rolls her eyes. “A lighter. Matches? Fuego?”

A moment passes between them– the girl, brow creased and nose wrinkled, blinking— and Trish staring back at her, foot tapping against the pavement.

The girl never gives an answer, and Trish eventually shrugs her off. She grumbles and slumps back against the railing. Kids these days, no respect for their elders.

“That depends, you got a cigarette for me?”

Well that catches Trish off-guard, she’ll admit it. She’s no stranger to the game. But a bit young to be playin’ in the streets, this one.

She measures the wager— kid can’t be older than thirteen, maybe twelve and a half. But she’s old enough to know better, and who’s Trish to judge? She’s been smokin’ since she was ten, holed up in the back of a dressing room pinning her ma’s garter to her thigh-high and cutting cash after showtime.

She peers at the kid from the corner of her eye. Little shit’s still lookin’ straight ahead, but now she’s wearin’ a smirk like a kitty-cat who’s locked it’s people outside.

“Ahrite, ahrite,” Trish sighs, reaches into her pocket and digs into her pack. She pulls two smokes, and the girl reaches out her hand.

“Uh-uh, huh.” Trish waggles her finger, “Light first.”

The kid rolls her eyes. She bends to fish a box of matches out of her sock, and smacks it into Trish’s open palm.

“Aaaank-you.”

Lipping the cig, Trish swipes the matchstick on the red and heyfirst try (she’s still got it), the thhrraaackk of the success is like an angel singin’ out in the heavens. She covers the flame with her palm and gets a good cherry going. She tosses the box back to the kid and waves the stick out.

Kid catches the box and Trish flips her the other stogie. Kid catches that too, and she doesn’t say shit when she peels right past Trish and makes for the alley.

Smart kid.

Trish takes a long drag and boy God is good, it hits the spot. She stares out into the street for a second, watches a couple taxis swish by. An icy spray kicks up from under one of the wheels, and her knees buckle when it hits her straight in the caps.

“Agh, shit.” She steadies herself. Can’t afford another slip today.

She shoves her free hand back into her pocket, pulling her coat back to her and turns against the street. She shuffles around a little, that ole christmastime song creepin’ it’s way back into her brain.

“Merry Christmaass, Alabammaa— “ she bounces on her steps, wandering toward the alley. “Merry Chrissstmaaas… Tenness.. seee…”

She spots the kid, leaning up against the backdoor of Shangie’s Pack-n-Ship. She’s scratchin’ away at the matchbox, a couple goddamnit’s and fuck’s slippin’ out from around the cig between her buckteeth. She finally does get a light but she jumps, throws it out with a hiss and stomps her little heels.

“Hang on-“ Trish makes toward her, bringing her smoke back to her lips. Kid jumps, then serves a real suspicious scowl. She stays put though, and gets another match.

“Come on, here.” Trish nods, cupping her hands forward.

Kid huffs, but swipes again. She swipes a few more times, eventually turning into Trish’s little shield.

“Come on kid—do it like ya mean it, come on—”

Kid glares up from under her brows but keeps on, gettin’ kinda pissed. On a particularly desperate swipe, voila, she gets lucky.

“Easy, ahrite, there ya go-“ Trish keeps her hands hovered over the girl’s cig, and kid goes crossed-eyed while she watches the cherry light. Then she pinches the cig and pulls back, tosses the match stick and takes a drag.

Trish pulls back too, and makes her way to the other wall. Trish puffs and the girl sucks in through her teeth. Two streams of smoke blow from opposite sides of the alley.

“Thanks,” Kid says after a minute, leaning against the door and still lookin’ sus. She’s got her arms half-crossed with one knee up, oh-so-poised, like a fuckin’ ballerina on a lunchbreak.

Trish shrugs. “Yeah.”

And now the girl’s doin the thing they all do— just judgin’ Trish up and down. Reading her outfit, makin’ up stories about who she is and what she’s really smokin’. Trish is used to it by now, but she still pulls her coat in tighter. She clears her throat and shakes the loose hair outta her face.

“You should probably stick to daylight, kid. These streets are mean.”

Kid scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Who asked you?”

Trish shrugs again, “I’m just sayin’ honey. Ya got a lot of nerve, pullin’ stunts on a Friday night.”

Kid leans her head back on the brick. “Yeah well,” she takes quick drag, “I can take care of myself.”

Maybe it’s her god-given maternal instinct, but Trish’s heart goes all soft for a minute. Who’s lettin’ this little baby run the streets at night? Who’s dressin’ her up in fancy clothes like that, then not givin’ a shit about where she is? It’s 7pm, do you know where your child is? Ain’t anyone ever seen the commercial? What kinda mother-

“And actually, I’d really appreciate it if you’d fuck off.”

Trish feels her forehead wrinkle when her brows shoot up. “‘Scuse you?”

“Yeah.” The girl cocks her head, eyes narrowed, “This is my spot. Find your own.”

“Your spot? Sorry, but —what are you, nine?”

“Twelve, actually,” kid says. She blows smoke and looks at her nails like a goddamn debutante.

“Oh, right,” Trish chuckles, “Twelve. So sorry. ‘Scuse me Queenie Bee.”

The girl’s eyes snap up from her nails. “And what are you, seventy-five?”

Ouch, that’s ripe.

“Well that’s not very-“

“Shouldn’t you have been home by three? So you could catch the news at five and make it to bed by seven? Or does Wheel of Fortune push bedtime to eight?”

“Hey, I will have you know-“

“Or did you forget to drink your prune juice—“

“-that I have lived here longer—“

“-and you’re just taking a stroll to move things around—“

“-longer than you’ve been a twinkle in ya daddy’s eye-”

Kid stops, shuts up real fast. She looks down at her cigarette and takes her leg off the wall.

Trish can’t help her victorious grin.

“Oh no, did I hit a nerve? You don’t got nothin’ else to say?”

The girl shuffles some rocks around with her feet. “M-my dad,” she says, her voice giving a shake, “My dad’s not here anymore.”

Trish’s face falls, and Jesus Fucking Christ she’ll be damned if the kid doesn’t look up at her with tearful eyes and a quivering lip.

“Oh- oh honey,” Trish waves her hands, “nuh-nuh-no, please don’t cry.”

The girl wipes at her eyes, and then chokes out a little sob.

“Oh God honey, I- I’m so sorry,” Trish stammers. She rushes to her with her arms out, “Come here, stop that cryin’.”

The girl seems to give in and falls onto her, her shoulders goin’ and her little cries muffled by Trish’s chinchilla coat. This poor little thing, so tough on the outside. All she probably wants is some parents who care, but hell, don’t we all? Isn’t that really the root of all our problems? That’s what the psychic said back in June, anyway. And then she stole forty bucks, the bitch.

“Hey, shoosh those tears,” Trish says, gentle as she can. She rubs Kid’s back, real motherly-like.

“He- he’s in h-heaven now-“

“Oh, shh- of course he is, honey.” Trish looks up at the sky and makes a face. Eh? Is he though? That lady’s got a real issue up there.

But she rubs the kids back, all the same.

“Is that why ya out here all by yourself?”

The girl nods into her shoulder. Trish sighs. Of course.

This kid could probably use some real solid advice right now, some real words of wisdom. And the lady in the sky brought them together tonight, in this very moment, for Trish to teach her a little bit of what she’s learned about this cruel, nasty world. So it’s time to be a child of God and give it a go. She clears her throat and collect her thoughts as best she can.

“Listen honey,” she starts, “Now your daddy’s in heaven right now, smilin’ down ‘atcha. But ya know, you really gotta- hey- hang on, OW—“

And there she is, before she knows it, in a headlock.

Her eyes bulge and she groans, choking out any words she can.

“Gotcha, bitch,” Kid sing-songs, smiling down at her. Trish throws her shoulders around but the kid’s got her good, she ain’t goin’ nowhere.

“Like I said, I can take care of myself,” Kid says, tightening her hold, her stingin’ cigarette smoke makin’ Trish eyes water.

“And though I appreciate your sympathy, I’d really appreciate it if you’d just move it along. This is my spot. Not yours. You go find your own. You hear me?”

Trish can only manage a slew of post-verbal, pitiful nonsense.

“We good?”

Trish nods weaky.

With a chuckle, Kid lets her go. Trish rolls onto the pavement, hacking.

“Jesus…Christ, kid.“

Kid’s grinning smugly. “Here,” she says, reaching out a hand, “come on. Get up.”

Trish looks at her hand, horrified. “Get the hell away from me ya little-“

“Oh come on, Grandma.”

Kid grabs Trish’s hands against her will, and pulls her up to her feet. Trish stumbles for a sec, and she points her finger.

“You— you’re a fuckinnn’—“

“Black belt? Why yes I am, thank you.”

Trish just stares back at her, catching her breath. Unbelievable, kids these days. No respect, no respect at all-

“Hey!” Trish sees her stogie on the ground, clean in half. “You broke my cigarette!”

Kid rolls her eyes. She fishes into her peacoat and pulls out the matches. “Here.”

Trish eyes her hand again, not willing to risk it.

“Just take them,” she says, shoving the matches forward, “You can just have them.”

Trish looks from the matches, to the kid, then back to the matches. She reaches out her hand real slow, then jumps back when she snatches them. Kid laughs.

“Oh, actually,” Kid turns and pats her other pocket, “here, this too.”

She pulls out Trish’s Pall Malls and tosses them to her. Trish catches them, frowning.

“Oh, and this too.”

She pulls a bill out of the same pocket, the five that Trish had tucked into her tit.  Trish, beside herself, marches over to snatch the bill. “How did you—“

“It’s what I do.”

Trish just stares, and Kid just grins. She takes one last drag of her cigarette and stomps it out.

“You’re unbelievable, kid,” Trish says, truly astonished. She tucks the five back into her tit, and pulls out a fresh cigarette. She pops it in her mouth and mumbles, “You’re a little firecracker, ya know that?”

Kid laughs, lookin’ utterly pleased with herself, like she’d won a prize in her fuckin’ Frosted Flakes.

“Well thanks.”

As Trish lights a match, Kid holds her hand out again. Trish flinches, but Kid just steady smiles.

“Brie.”

Trish takes a drag and narrows her eyes. She carefully takes her hand, and squeezes.

“Trish.”

Brie nods. “Well, Trish,” she says, eyes lookin’ like something between lasers and deadbolts, “I hope I never see you again.”

Trish shrugs and pulls back. “Yeah. Likewise, Cracker.”

Brie tilts her head, like she’s weighing something. Like someone just told her she’d be winning the spelling bee, like someone’s just pulled a pageant. She smirks, gives a little ‘hymph’, and makes back toward the street.

“Oh, and thanks for the cigarette,” she calls over her shoulder, her little heels clickety-clackin’ against the pavement.

Trish grimaces, and can’t help but watch the little demon as she goes. Where is her mother? Is she really twelve? Is she even American? That little shit’s gonna learn one of these days, we all gotta learn. But she’ll be alright for a while, Trish can guess that. Crazy little fuck.

Brie stops for a sec, then turns back. Trish tenses and plants her feet, bracing herself. She holds her lit cigarette out in front of her, ready to burn this bitch.

“Hey,” Brie calls. She reaches into her peacoat and pulls out somethin’ shiny. She lowers her arm for an underhand toss and yells, “catch!”

“Uh,” Trish looks behind her, then holds up a hand. Brie chucks it and Trish catches it in her left.

A gold Rolly, with diamonds. Still warm.

Trish looks back up, and Kid’s smilin’.

“Don’t keep it long, I swiped it an hour ago. Go down the road and make a right. They’ll take it.”

Trish looks down at the Rolly, then back up to Kid.

“Uh.. okay?”

Brie shrugs and holds her hands above her head. “It’s Christmas!”

Trish blinks, then scowls. “It- it’s February, ya twit!”

Brie laughs. “Close enough!”

With that she rounds the corner, and poof, she’s gone.

Trish is absolutely walking in the opposite direction of that bitch, and she turns on her heel with a groan. She gazes down at the watch in her palm. It’s gorgeous, it’s luxurious- it’s the most precious thing she’s held in years. Well, besides Bobby.

Bobby. He’d love this one. She could give it to him for Christmas-In-July or somethin’, or a Happy-Birthday present. He could put it on and she could get all dolled up and they could go have a real nice dinner, real fancy-like at the Black Eyed Pea.

She comes to the end of the street and rounds the corner. A neon green Yvie’s Odds hangs over a doorway, calling Trish’s name.

Eh, Bobby’ll be fine. Cash is king, after all.

And the bell on the door dings as she skips back out onto the street, tucking a wad of cash in her tit. She’s gonna need a bigger bra, that’s for sure. And maybe a soda, a Big Blue. And maybe she’ll get a nice Danielle Steel from the book store, and have a quiet night in the halfway house. She’s just gotta make it to midnight and she’ll have fifteen days sober, by the grace of God. And maybe she’ll find a payphone, and she’ll call Bobby.

Before she calls Bobby though, she’s gotta call her sponsor. She’s gotta call her and tell her all about her day, about what she did wrong and what she did right. And of course, she’s gotta tell her about Kid. She’s gotta tell her all about the mean little shit, about the nicest stranger she’s met in a long, long time.

#rpdr fanfiction #dandee #trish #katya zamolodchikova #miz cracker #rare pair #fic challenge #the kids are alright #cracker & katya

[theclearblues]

Hades | Chapter 4 | TomHolland

Pairing: Tom Holland X Fem!Reader (Mobster!Tom AU)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex trafficking and slight NSFW

I apologize if the read more tab doesn’t work on mobile

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

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“In what world do you own me, Holland? I may work for you, but you do not have control over me,” her stance was powerful as her eyes dared him to say more.

Oh, how he knew. She was a wild tigress locked down only by a thread tied to a shackle.

Tom glared from his seat, wanting to shout bloody murder at Y/N. Tell her that her employment meant he could make her do whatever he wanted. But as she stood over him, with her eyes filled with a wildfire of entitlement, he wanted nothing but to watch that exact moment over and over. But as Harrison coughed into his fist, Tom was pulled back into reality. Y/N had a secret, and Martin had a motive and he needed to find out what it was. It all tempted his urge to have blood dripping down his hands, seeping between his fingers.

“If you don’t tell me what Rob Martin is talking about, I may just have to let you take the fall.” Tom replied, a smug grin flourishing.

“Yeah? Then what’s stopping you from doing it right now?” Her eyebrows furrowed, face growing cold. Tom didn’t have an answer for her, he couldn’t describe why he felt like he couldn’t

“Harrison, take her back to her room.” Tom said nonchalantly as he rose from his chair and started to walk out of the office. Harrison paraded across the hardwood and tried to escort Y/N towards the door.

“What the fuck is this? You won’t answer me?” She slapped Harrison’s hand away from her shoulder and grabbed Tom’s wrist, “what is it?”

He stopped in his path, looking back at her with a lack of expression, “I’m going to make a plan,” he yanked his arm out of her grip and continued out into the hallway.

+++

Tom decided to go walk in the library, he didn’t read much, but the library was always a place that invited thought. He walked past shelves and shelves of books, none of them dusty due to an invaluable cleaning staff at the estate. While Tom strolled down the shelves of books, he tried to devise a plan. The ultimatum ran through his head like computer code; let Y/N go without a witness, or intervene but risk being investigated. The investigation would start a domino effect of problems, all them resulting in the termination of the Holland mafia, even the legal parts. He pressed his hands into his face, then ran them up through his hair.

Why couldn’t he let Y/N take the fall?

Tom pondered on the question for what seemed like ages. He didn’t love her, there was no reason for him to. He knew that she was beautiful, in her looks and her personality, even when her eyes danced with defiance. Tom knew she deserved more than to get convicted for a crime she did not commit, she deserved more than to go in without support. But at the same time, Tom was not willing to risk everything his family had worked for. So he was left with a gray space he had yet to fill with an alternate solution.

+++

“Harrison! What is going on?” Y/N mind was blazing with thoughts, eyes wild with uncertainty.

“I don’t know, Y/N. We need to find out Martin’s motive,” Harrison spoke with kind eyes, trying to bring peace back into the woman.

“Do you know his plan?”

“No.”

She determined Harrison as a dead end, and that he wanted her to go to her room and leave everyone alone from the way he stood. He loomed over her in height, and he spoke softly but he meant to hint that she should leave. To satisfy him, she walked down the hall and climbed up the staircase to the bedrooms.

After an hour, Y/N had torn the room apart. Bed sheets were pulled off the bed, towels from the bathroom lay scattered around the room, books that had sat peacefully in shelves were open and misplaced. It was a strange habit, but it was what she did when she needed to think. A messy surrounding gave her a sharp mind, where in most cases it would drive people mad. She had thought enough about the plan, but was stuck without a retaliation. She needed to bounce ideas off of someone, Harrison would be fine but he had left the estate and taken the package to the warehouse he spoke about earlier.

Unfortunately, Tom was her only option.

Y/N found him in the library, located at the far end of the East wing of the house. From the double door entrance, there were rows and rows of neatly placed books with their spines facing outwards. The vaulted ceilings were paired with long french windows that let the last few rays of the sunset peek through and illuminate various book titles. The hushed atmosphere was interrupted only by the sound of Tom’s boots clicking against the hardwood and the faint crackle of the fire.Tom was walking through shelves, not looking for anything in particular. His eyes were blank but Y/N could tell his mind was anything but. His back was turned to her as he sauntered down the row, his shoes clicking against the floor.

“My plan is to kill him,” Tom stated ominously, his back still turned.

“Then you’re an idiot,” her laugh floated through the room, bouncing off the walls and returning back to her.

“How so? It would be a simple job, and it would be staged.”

“You believe he doesn’t have an accomplice? Or atleast a confidante?” Y/N challenged his plan, wanting him to think deeper.

“Martin’s a loner, he’s never gotten on with anyone from the club.”

“It doesn’t have to be a friend,” she lowered her voice to a whisper as she walked beside the shelves across from him, “you should know that better than anyone.”

“Hm?” He heard her.

“I’m saying that he wouldn’t do this alone. He knows you’re a violent man, he’d be counting on you to come after him,” she let him think for a moment before continuing.

“Let’s say you did send Harrison or you went yourself to kill him, this is if he hadn’t gotten a tip that you were on the way. You’d kill him, set it up as a suicide, but he’d already sent a copy of everything he meant to expose to his confidante. Someone he barely knew but had the same motive, before you’re back in your office pouring yourself a glass of scotch he’d have every single thing you’re wrapped up in out in the public eye. By the time you’ve drank the glass, the police would be at your door.”

He spun on his heel and leaned against the wood, a grin peeking through his lips, “very good, darling. You aren’t as dense as I thought,” he wet his lips then walked over to the fireplace and sat in one of the leather patent chairs.

He didn’t have a plan, Y/N gathered, but he wanted to test her. She was annoyed with him and the way he toyed with her to make himself feel superior. Though, a part of her was pleased she had passed his test. She settled herself in the chair across from him, crossing her ankles as she adjusted her posture. Y/N looked over to Tom, who was watching her. She saw the opportunity to make her move in their game, a reprisal to his test he pulled on her. She bit her lip as she reached her arms over her head and started to pull off her sweater. Y/N felt the tank top underneath slide up her torso as she pulled at the sweater’s sleeves, revealing her lower stomach. As she hung the sweatshirt over the side of the chair, one of Tom’s men walked into the library cautiously.

“Boss, just wanted to give you an update on the Riley money.” He spoke to Tom with a failed confidence while Y/N observed him. He was relatively young, maybe about 20. He had dark hair that hung over his brow and constantly caused him push it to the side with a free hand.

“Yes please, give us the update.” Y/N answered for Tom, eyes lingering on Tom’s as she spoke.

“Oh, um,” the boy paused, not sure whether to continue so he glanced at Tom, who merely nodded.

“He’s paid 30 of the 35 thousand, said it’d be ready by this Friday.” He was reading a piece of paper in his hand, obviously nervous as his hand shook with each breath.

Tom nodded then waved him away, Y/N stopped him.

“What’s your name?” She asked with a friendly manner, leaning seductively over the arm of the chair.

“Frankie, ma’am.” Frankie’s voice got caught in his throat as he realized he had been caught up in the game between Tom and Y/N and it made sweat rise above his brow.

“Frankie, come here,” she curled her finger, telling him to lean into her. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip and then pressed her teeth into the pink flesh.

Frankie hesitantly bent down, where she grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him down to her so his ear to her lips, Frankie swallowed hard as he braced himself for her words.

She whispered so Tom wouldn’t hear, “next time, fucking knock.”

She grinned up at him as she slid her hand from his shirt and beckoned for him to leave. Y/N pushed her hair behind her shoulder, looking over at Tom as she pulled her feet up onto the chair.

“Y/N,” he growled, his hands gripped the side of the chair with so much force his knuckles had turned white. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, a failed attempt of keeping focused.

“Yes, Tommy?” She smirked, knowing the nickname would either push him over the edge or shove him back into his cave, she counted on the former. To her good fortune, it made him jump out of his chair and push her into the back of the cushioned leather she sat in.

“We can’t keep playing this game,” he breathed just under her ear, lowering himself down to the soft skin of her neck, “I know you want me too.” His breath was hot against her, Y/N grabbed at the loose fabric of his shirt and pulled him into her. Her other hand sneaking up his chest and up into his messy curls. His body hovered over hers, Y/N chest began to rise and fall.

“Do I?” she smiled as she said the words. Her eyes looking up to his. The brown in his eyes was smooth like chocolate as the dim light from the fire beside them lit up one side of his face. She tugged on his curls knotted in her hand, his head moving backwards, making him groan. He kissed her neck and sucked lightly, the hand of Y/N’s that wasn’t laced into his hair rested on the top of his belt. Her fingers danced along the thick leather, knuckles brushing against his lower abs. Tom moved his lips to hers, no tongue to begin with but then gradually adding more as time went on. He wasn’t rough like she expected him to be, but soft with his movements. But then, to her surprise he hooked the tip of his tongue under her front teeth, pulling her head forward, like a finger beckoning her closer. Y/N took this as a sign to slip her tongue into his mouth, while she did so she slipped the tip of her fingers under his belt, teasing him. He groaned into her mouth, urging her on, his mouth pressing harder against hers. Y/N was getting engrossed in the moment, moving her tongue expertly. Tom slipped his hand under her tank top, pushing it up higher as he got closer to her breasts. He ran a finger underneath the wire of her bra, threatening to take it off.

Y/N became lost in the moment, all she was thinking about was Tom. The way his body was suspended over hers, how the warmth of his body radiated down on her as she moved her tongue in sync with his. Her hand was about to unbuckle his belt but then his warmth was gone, and suddenly the fire’s warmth was not enough to keep the goose bumps from rising on her arms.

“Nice try, princess,” he muttered. He was walking back over to his chair, smiling to himself as he stared into the fire. The orange light danced along his face, his eyes were in a haze as he watched the flames lick the edge of the stone that contained it. He exhaled harshly, “Martin’s motive, it must have something to do with his personal life. He’s never had a wife or a serious girlfriend. But his father committed suicide when he was 17 and then his mum became a full fledged alcoholic.”

Y/N was annoyed, once again. But she was impressed with his dedication to winning their little competition of taunt. As much as she enjoyed toying with him, Y/N knew they had to formulate a plan, and quickly. “Who was his mother?”

“Um,” he thought for a moment, squinting his eyes, “Penny Martin, journalist for Wallace, a London based newspaper. One of the best.”

“His mother must have taught him a bit on fact finding, and maybe blackmail,” suddenly, Y/N was interested in Rob Martin’s family history, “and his father?”

“David Martin,” he stopped briefly, “I’ve heard that name. Who is he? Why would I know that name?” Tom rubbed his face with his hands and perched himself on the edge of the chair. He pondered for a few minutes, then suddenly got up and walked down an aisle of what was supposed to be books, but were actually thick binders filled with papers.

“These are all the documents of all the people that have worked for my family, all the way from the 19th century to now.” he ran his fingers along a row of binders then stopped on one, and slide it from between two others. Tom flicked through the pages for a while, then walked back over to the chair where he sat. He read over a few pages then snapped the binder shut, Tom turned to Y/N with a look that gave away his sudden understanding of Robert Martin.

“He owed my father over four hundred thousand pounds, he couldn’t pay to cover up his affair with the Lord Chancellor at the time, nor the time he’d spent sex trafficking women from Russia. He couldn’t pay, and when he knew my father had sent men to collect he killed himself. My dad never got around to uncovering all the shit, so nobody really knows about David Martin’s sins.” Tom growled, disgusted with how messy his father had handled the situation. Tom had been taught to never do anything for free, even after they’re six feet under.

“Tom, that’s his motive-”

Tom cut her off, finishing the sentence for her, “he blames me and my family for his father’s suicide.”

Despite the gruesome circumstances, Tom smiled at Y/N softly and she smiled back, this time with nothing but cordiality. Glancing at the grandfather clock behind Y/N, Tom rose from his seat and walked over to where she sat observing him. He kissed the top of her head and silently exited the library, leaving Y/N wondering who Tom Holland was behind the Armani suit and the blood that stained his hands.

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