#lime:....(so she hit the nail on the head...)

[musubiki]

lime vs tiramisu that one post thats like "Why can't Mochi and I share a room?" "You'll understand when you have a daughter."

lime, quietly under his breath: "How am I supposed to have a daughter if you wont let me in there--"

#gets whacked immedately #tiramisu knows............. #when they got to around 13/14 she started banning sleepovers #at the time lime and mochi were like (thats so dumb. why??) #but grown up lime gets it now #(ah. she knew huh...) #13 year old lime: this is so dumb. just because we have sleepovers that means were gonna like each other?? boys and girls cant be friends?? #and then falls in love with her after she falls asleep on him on e #lime:....(so she hit the nail on the head...) #mochi: noooo hes not like that... #lime sweating: ........

[someobsessionrequired]

OP characters

Would they let you paint their nails?

(Only MILDLY suggestive for Shanks...because yknow...its shanks)

Luffy!

You can absolutely try! He's not against it but this boy will most definitely run off about two fingers in

His color of choice was a ruby red that was supposed to get a coat of silver glitter, sadly you did not make it that far

The few fingers you did get done are completely back to normal within a day from a mixture of picking and chewing at them unconsciously

Sanji!

Is absolutely enthusiastic that you asked him! Tells you to choose whatever color you love the most so he has a constant reminder of you

Most definitely gets a nose bleed the moment you touch his hand, but other than that he sits patiently

Takes extra care in the kitchen to not damage said nails, if they flake off over time he will ask you to fix them for him

Zoro!

Definitely not overly enthusiastic about it but will begrudgingly agree after an idea hits his 2 working brain cells

He will get you to paint his two middle fingers a lime green, and will exclusively use this opportunity to flip Sanji off any chance he gets

Does not last long though within a week all the polish has chipped off

Nami!

100% down, she will request to paint yours as well afterwards

The two of you will be rocking a cute tangerine orange, every couple weeks you two will sit and touch them up again together

Brook!

He will absolutely crack a bone joke about how he does not have nails to paint

Will let you paint the tips of his boney fingers though, he would ask for a shade of blue that reminds him of his dear friend Laboon

Shockingly with a protective coat the polish stays wonderfully for many werks

Robin!

Another who is very happily down and requests to do the same for you! She will make a whole event of the time, tea, and some light reading in-between coats drying

If this becomes a regular ocurance she will mix up colors between dark violet shades and deeper pinks

Jinbe!

This man is not quite sure what you are asking of him but agrees with a hearty chuckle

When you ask him to pick a color he will ask for dealers choice, he does not particularly care about the polish but enjoys the way your face lights up when he agrees

Sadly does not last long on him ask with so much swimming it is bound to break down quickly

Ussop!

Beyond down! Another to make a whole event of the time, hair, face mask, and nails

Paint his nails while he tells you beyond Preposterous stories, the self care will be going both ways that night and by the end both party's will be refreshed

He would choose a forest green and after it drys attempt to do little designs of vines and flowers on them, to a somewhat success

Kid!

You would not even have to ask, this man would run out of his own polish and ask if you had any

A bit annoyed when you ask to paint them for him but agrees under the terms that he can make the two of you match

This man is red all the way, the more like fresh blood the better, will let you once in a while spice it up with painting his middle fingers black

Killer!

God he really did not want to at first but he is a softy and will agree after he sees your disipointment

At first he thought about matching with his captain but quickly decided against that settling on a deep ocean blue

With the amount of fighting this man gets up too it does not last long, but once a week will go to you to have them fixed up

Heat!

Obsessed with the idea! Another to have an entire self care night with you

Will pick a deep firey orange with a lighter orange glitter on top, has you help fix up his dreads as each coat drys, he struggles with the ones behind his head so that where your main focus will be

Afterwards will do the same back for you choosing for your nails to half match his, instead having a sparkly blue on top

This will become a regular occurrence

Wire!

Loves the idea, he's a man of few words so things you can do together that do not put pressure on talking are his favoites

He would wants a darker purple as to complement his outfit, after you finish he would place his hand out and after a moment of confusion you'd understand this him offering to do the same for you!

He takes great care of his nails but fighting takes its damage on them, when they get too bad he will simply approach you and hold out his hand to show how chipped they are, you get the message and fix them up for him

Law!

Absolutely! ...not...

He rejects it flat out multiple times and after so long you just stop asking...

That is until one night all the crew was drinking and celebrating their latest victory, after several too many drinks he approaches you, definitely even in his intoxicated state finds himself struggling with his words to request what he wants

After a while of anxiously waiting for the captain to tell you what he wants he simply asks you to follow him, assuming you are in trouble you are shocked to find him request such a silly thing

Happily you lead him to your chambers digging around in your bag you pull out a matte black polish

The next morning he wakes with a ragging hangover on top of the shock of his nails now painted, wants to be angry but knows it looks damn good, continues to take damn good care of them as well

Penguin! & Shachi!

Okay if you ask one they will not only agree immediately but also drag the other along

Unshocking this will not be an easy endeavor, it starts off strong with the two of them dumping out every color you own digging though struggling to choose a color

Eventually they will settle on a color each, penguin having picked and icey blue and Shaci with an almost neon orange, they request you do every other finger with each color

After you finish up they do the same for you each boy taking a hand, it starts off fine but quickly turns into the two insulting each other over how messy they paint, it turns into a competition of who can paint better

Bepo!

Often you find yourself napping and relaxing with Bepo so after a while of this you mentioned the idea of painting the polar bear's claws

He is absolutely giggling and squealing at the idea, quickly requesting for the most fun color you could think of, this boy wants glitter and do not cheap out! A light icy blue base with as many rainbow sparkle coats you can muster up

He will treasure them and keep them as safe as he can but will come to you with tears in his eyes as they peel off, give this boy a huge and fix them up for him!!

Shanks!

Absolutely will but requests you sit on his lap as you do it, this man will use any sneaky trick to get what he wants but as long as you both are happy he's winning

Wants a shade of red that matches his hair, once you finish up his hand he will ask you to do the other hand, out of pure Instinct you look towards where his other hand would be as he lets out a deep vibracious laugh poking fun at you for the rest of the night

Mihawk!

We'll say no the first time you ask but if you mentioned it a few times he will eventually give in requesting the most simple soild black you can find

After you finish them he takes a moment staring at them before nodding at you and sending you on your way

Over the next few days you'll notice anytime he walks by a mirror to straighten up his outfit he will take a moment to appreciate the nails and how well they complement his look, he may not want to admit it but you can tell he is feeling himself up

Will eventually ask you to fix them up over time as he says he's grown fond of them

Writers note!

Thank you reading! Requests are open for headcanons, fics, and really just about anything!

#one piece #headcanons #one piece headcanons #one piece hcs #kidpirates #killer #wire #eustass kid #fluff #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #dracule mihawk #shanks #bepo #heart pirates penguin #shachi #one piece jinbe #robin #reader #x reader #ussop one piece #soul king brook #black leg sanji #heat

[sadhours]

scumbag blues: 1) first it giveth

gator tillman x f!original character

contents: 18+ minors dni, sex work, mean!gator, slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, rough, anal play, choking, lots of dirty talk, unprotected sex, lots of spitting

The sheets are fresh, it’s the first thing Gator smells as he and Daisy walk through the doorway. She leans against the closed door, locking it and batting her lashes up at him. Big blue eyes behind false lashes and a scattering of sun sprouted freckles dusting the apples of her cheeks and bridge of her nose. Gator feels a little dizzy at the sight but his dad doesn’t approve of her, tells Gator he better stop paying for her services but he can’t help himself. Winds up at the Inn at least twice a week. Bills fresh from the ATM tucked neatly in his wallet, burning a hole in his pocket. Gator’s hands find her hips, holding her in place while his body crowds her tiny one. He’s a good seven inches taller than her. He gets off on the size difference, likes knowing he can easily throw her around.

Daisy’s fingers find the zipper of his utility vest, her pink stained lips parting as she tugs it down and smoothes her hands under it, pushing it off his shoulders. Gator lets it fall to the floor, cringing at the thud it makes as it hits the hardwood. Daisy then moves her hands to make purchase over his chest, making his skin chill with goosebumps. She gently squeezes his hips, blinking up at him with those coquettish eyes. Turns Gator to putty in her hands like that. Wills himself to stop thinking about how much dick she’s ran through today. Tells himself she don’t look at those men the way she’s looking at him. Daisy promises so, has Gator believing it like it changes anything.

Roy wouldn’t let him and even if he did, Daisy ain’t gonna stop turning tricks. Her dad thinks this is an Inn, but they make money ‘cause his little girls turned it into a brothel. Her mothers scarce, like his own. Gator doesn’t ask her personal questions like that. They keep it professional. Though he knows it ain’t, knows Daisy brings him to her personal bedroom and not one of the rooms for rent. Lets her rest her head on his chest after and tell him about her dreams. Kisses her stupid before he inevitably leaves.

“S’nice dress you got on,” he mumbles, “Put it on just for me?” It’s a white one, short with big flowy sleeves and her cleavage just about pours from it.

“Bought it just for you,” Daisy replies, fishing her manicured fingers in his pocket and retrieving his lime green vape. She holds it up, “You know the rule.”

“Dumb fuckin’ rule,” he grumbles but takes it from her, taking a deep pull from the little box and tilts his head back to exhale the smoke out towards the ceiling. He passes it back to her and Daisy side steps him to put it in her desk. Gator’s got a not so good habit about reaching for it while they’re in the throws of passion, Daisy ain’t a fan of the acidic fruity vapor in her face during sex. So she made a rule, it stays in her desk drawer until after he’s paid her.

“Gator,” she scolds, furrowing her brows as she looks at him.

“I’m just saying,” he raises his hands in defense before trailing to the bed. He sits on the foot of it, clicking his tongue and nodding to the ground before him. Daisy complies, getting on her knees and starts unlacing his boots with her French tip nails and looks up at him with those big eyes again. “Good girl,” he praises, placing his palms on the comforter.

Sometimes he makes her lick ‘em but he’s feeling sweet tonight. She looks a little too innocent for that right now. So he just watches carefully, humming in approval when she gets one boot off and massages his sweaty, socked foot. Daisy smiles, flush rising up her neck which has Gator thinking this part gets her real excited. Has half a mind to reach between her legs and find out. Daisy rubs her face against his knee, bouncing a bit where she sits before she moves onto the other boot. She doesn’t spend as much time in massaging that one before she’s reaching for the button of his cargos, Gator moves to unclip the strap on his thigh but Daisy stops him.

“Keep it on for now,” she pleads, pulling his cargos down as far as they’ll go with the strap on.

“Yeah? Got yourself a cop kink?” Gator teases.

“More like a Gator kink,” she mumbles and immediately looks like she regrets it, eyes wide and cheeks ruddy. She bites her lip and moves her hand to palm him through his underwear. He can’t dwell on what she said for long after that, hot pleasure rising up his legs as his cock twitches from the attention. A long, low groan pushes from his throat and she shushes him. Her daddy’s bedroom is next to hers.

“C’mon, stop teasing,” he hisses.

Daisy raises a brow, lips quirking into a smirk before she’s nudging her nose against his clothed cock. Gator gasps and his hips lift off the mattress for just a second. And then Daisy sniffs and Gator’s a little self conscious, knows he’s been sweating in these cargos all day. But Daisy groans softly and takes another whiff, squeezing the bottom of his thighs and lets out a moan.

“You’re nasty, ya know that?” Gator exhales shakily and Daisy rubs her face against his boner and tells him he smells so good. Pheromones or someshit, he doesn’t know but he knows it turns him on that she likes his scent. His cock fills out even more and he grabs a hold of her head, pressing her face flush against his briefs. Daisy mouths at his length through the fabric, digging her fingers into his thighs. “You fucking love that cock, don’tcha, darling? C’mon, show daddy how much you love it,” Gator groans out, loosening his grip on her head.

Daisy takes a breath as she pulls away, immediately hooking her fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pulls ‘em down to get his erection out. Gator has to bite his lip to stifle the moan rising up his throat as she grips the base of him in her hand and licks a broad stroke up the underside of his cock. Daisy’s a real pro when it comes to head. Experience, Gator knows but she acts like she needs to suck it. Like she’s hungry for his cock. Daisy delivers kitten licks to his slit, moving her head with the motion before she wraps her lips around the head, giving a hard suck before taking him as far as he’ll go, hot and wet enveloping his cock. It twitches in her mouth and Gator pathetically moans out a “Oh, dear lord.”

He can feel her smile around the mouthful of him, has his hips rolling up on their own volition. For fucks sake, it feels so good. All the stress from work and his dad just dissipates like a switch. Gator’s sure that Daisy was put here on earth to service his cock, that’s what God made her for. And fuck, if he could marry her he’d do it in a heartbeat. Daisy pulls his cock out of her mouth with a pop before slapping it against her tongue and swallows before she asks him, “S’that feel good, daddy?”

“Yeah it does, sweetheart,” Gator bumbles out, “Get your mouth back to work.”

Daisy obliges with a giggle, running her pouty lips against the tip before slipping it between them. She sucks on his head, stroking him with her hand. Keeps her eyes locked on his face, like she’s eager to watch him fall apart. Like her whole self worth depends on whether or not she can make Gator cum. And he’s a fucking asshole.

“Aw, darlin,” he laughs softly, “You can do better than that, can’tcha?”

Daisy huffs through her nose, eyes squinting at him as she squeezes his cock in her hand but she clearly can’t help herself, as stubborn as she may pretend to be, she really just wants to please him. So Daisy sinks her mouth down on his cock, takes him until the head pushes against the back of her throat. She blinks quickly and Gator can see the tears prickling the corners of her eyes, slipping out and down her cheeks. Watches with his breath held as she exhales through her nose. He scoops her blonde hair up in his hands and holds it like a pony tail at the crown of her head, using the leverage to move her mouth as he pleases. Fucks her pretty little mouth until his balls are covered in her drool. Bucks his hips with it, reveling in the gagging sounds she makes around his length.

Gator’s real close to pulling her off, feels his orgasm is inching in quicker but it’s just too good to make her stop. He ain’t leaving here without filling her pussy though, it is what he pays for anyhow.

“Slower,” he whimpers out, hating the way it sounds on his ears but Daisy complies, pulls off of him and strokes him languidly in her hand. She blinks up at him, those eyes wide like she’s never done this before. The mortgage being paid for this place says something else though.

“Such a sweet girl,” Gator coos, “Do whatever you’re told.” He pats her bicep, “Up. Show me how wet y’are.”

Daisy flushes, standing up on shaky legs and lifts her dress above her waist. Her thong is white, slick soaked through and glistening on her thighs. Gator reaches forward and presses his fingers against the damp material. He moves them firmly up and down, Daisy rolls her hips into it and Gator lets out a low chuckle.

“Reckon you’re a good whore or… it’s only my cock that gets you soaked like this,” Gator muses, tilting his head as he pushes her panties to the side and gets his fingers against her folds. “Huh? You get this wet for those other fuckers?”

Daisy gasps, fingers grasping at the bunched material of her dress as she gazes down at his face.

“Answer me,” Gator demands when Daisy’s eyes glaze over from pleasure, his fingertips moving against her aching clit.

“No,” she whines, because it’s the truth. There’s bottles of lube hidden away in every single room. It’s nothing but men her fathers age and then there’s Gator. Handsome and around her age. Fucks her like he owns her. She won’t tell him he does. That she’s looking forward to their scheduled appointments. Cleans her room for him, wears clothes bought just for him and is soaking wet in anticipation. Hell, he’s the only client who gets to fuck her raw.

“That’s right,” he purrs, pulling his hand back and leans back against the bed, “Touch yourself for me.”

Daisy puts on a show, pushes her panties down mid thigh and spreads her lips with her fingers, giving him an eyeful of glistening folds. Rubs her pretty little clit in slow circles for him. Makes these breathy, quiet moans as she does it. Gator watches with an unimpressed expression that has Daisy insecure and eager to please. She slaps her pussy and inhales sharply at the way his eyebrows raise, moving to sink her fingers into her warm core. Fucking herself all slow and exaggerated, walls clenching around the digits and the desire to have his cock stretching them starts to get unbearable.

“Taste yourself,” Gator instructs.

She obliges instantly, shoving her fingers in her mouth and humming around them. Gator grins, eyes crinkling and Daisy clambers on top of him. Smashing their lips together desperately, grabbing his face and rocking her hips against him. Gator grabs her ass, squeezes it before delivering a harsh smack to the right cheek as he licks into her mouth. Daisy has a strict no kissing rule, but most of her rules go out the window when it comes to Gator. As much as she despises who he is, she’s overwhelmingly attracted to him. It’s carnal, animalistic the way they make out and rut against each other. Gator gropes her wherever he can, pressing his cock against her dripping cunt and rolling his hips. The most delicious slide, slick coating his shaft as he drags it through her folds. Their muffled moans fill the room as they writhe against each other. Daisy’s so goddamn wet Gator can feel it dripping down to his balls. He grabs her hair and tugs her back, breaking the kiss with strings of salvia still connecting their lips.

“Take that fucking dress off,” Gator demands, “Now.”

Daisy fumbles to pull the hem up and over her head, body exposed to him and his hands take advantage, smoothing down her sides and then back up to unclasp her lacy white bra. She tosses it aside and rolls her hips into him as his hands cup her breasts, thumbs grazing against her pert nipples. Daisy elicits a loud moan and Gator’s pinches her nipple and tugs it.

“Shh,” he scolds, “Don’t want your daddy knowing what an easy slut his little girl is.”

“Fuck,” Daisy gasps, hands moving to grab Gator’s wrist and forearm. His words produce a wave of euphoria laced shame, coating the length of his cock in even more slick. He uses her secret to blackmail her all the time, get dirt on her clients and get free services from her when he gets power hungry.

Gator hums, smirking up at her and says, “Does that make you wet? Screwing for money when daddy’s in the next room? Fuck, you’re such a whore. Picked the perfect profession.”

“Shut up,” she pleads in a moan.

“Ah ah,” Gator purses his lips as he smooths his hand up to wrap around Daisy’s neck, “I know you don’t wanna spend the night behind bars again. Soliciting a deputy and all.” Gator tsks, “Better behave.”

“Yes, sir,” Daisy gasps, feeling light headed with the pressure Gator’s got on her windpipe. Tells herself it’s part of the service, that she isn’t massively turned on by the power Gator truly holds. “I’m sorry, Deputy Tillman… I’ll be a good girl.”

“Music to my ears, darlin,” Gator drawls before giving a squeeze to her throat and letting go.

“How do you want me?” Daisy asks, breathlessly as her fingertips ghost down the swell of his biceps. She ignores the dumb tattoo peeking out of his sleeve.

“Ass up, face in the pillows,” Gator instructs and Daisy moves quick to get into position, thong still draped at her knees. Gator gets up, she can hear him undo his thigh strap and carefully placing it on the dresser before she feels him peel her underwear the rest of the way down. When she feels Gator’s hips pressing the globes of her ass, she knows he’s undressed. The tip of his cock grazes her fluttering hole, causing a whine to raise out of her throat and she pushes her ass back at him, desperate to catch the head of his cock in her hole and sink down on it. But Gator has other plans, grabs handfuls of her ass and spreads her cheeks before jiggling them in his hands. Watches her asshole flex from the motion and he spits on it, moving his thumb to spread his saliva against the hole she doesn’t let any other man touch. Hasn’t told Gator he’s the only man whose fucked her ass.

Gator spits again, uses it as lube to slip his thumb inside her asshole and groans lowly as Daisy’s toes curl.

“That’s it,” he coos, “Such a good little whore for me.”

Daisy keens, grabbing onto the pillows as she pushes her ass back at him. He spanks her with his right hand, so hard she’s sure she’s got an angry, red print of Gator’s large hand on it. Then he’s grabbing the base of his cock, swirling the head of it around Daisy’s clenching, dripping hole. He slips it in, but keeps it shallow. Just the tip.

“C’mon, Daisy,” he says condescendingly, “Fuck that dirty hole on my cock.”

Daisy’s head is swimming with just the tip, the notion that this is work completely vacated her thoughts. This is pure pleasure, all play and no work. Daisy fully believes in this moment that she exists to be used by Gator and God’s a real kind son of a bitch for giving her that purpose. She rolls her hips back, sinking down on Gator’s cock and he gasps. Her eyes are rolling back as he fills her up, all the way down to his tight balls. His cockhead presses into her g-spot so deliciously Daisy cannot hold back the guttural moan punching through her lips. He’s the only client to make her cum, to make sex enjoyable.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he exhales, “Tight little cunt, no matter how many dicks you take.”

His filthy words make both her holes clench around him. Gator wiggles his thumb and then uses the grip he’s got on her to drag her up and down his cock. He’s so thick and she’s squeezing him so tight. Can’t imagine not taking Gator raw. Needs to feel him without the stinky, thin layer of latex.

“Christ,” he moans softly, “Just keep squeezing that dick. You love it so much.”

Daisy fucks back against him, her nipples brushing against the bedspread as her tits sway with the motions. The sensation spreads hotly down her spine. The wet sounds of Gator’s cock sliding in and out of her cunt fill her ears, sprouting goosebumps over her skin as desperation starts to take over her. With each thrust of their hips, their skin meets with a sweaty slap and the tip of his cock brushes against her g-spot. Gator keeps letting out these low grunts, right hand gripping her hip tight enough to leave bruises. All the marks on her skin are left from him.

“So wet,” he chokes behind clenched teeth, “My little whore, all fucking mine.” He slaps her ass, “Yeah? I own this tight fuck hole, don’t I?”

“Yes,” she cries out, the slapping sounds of their skin gaining in tempo as Gator pounds into her relentlessly.

“Say it, bitch,” Gator seethes, moving her hand between her shoulder blades and pushing her harder against the mattress, “Tell me who owns this fucking pussy.”

Daisy turns her head, though her voice is still slightly muffled as she whimpers out, “You own this pussy, Gator owns me…”

“Damn fucking right,” he grunts. And just as he slips his thumb out of her ass to grip her hips, his radio goes off.

“Gator, do you copy?” that static laced voice rings throughout the room but the deputy ignores it, drilling into Daisy at breakneck speed, pushing involuntarily little yelps from her.

“Gator, you there?” Again, the voice comes through. “Gator,” in a singing tune.

“Fucking useless pricks,” he pulls out from Daisy and climbs off the bed. She sighs as she flips onto her back, rubbing her pussy as she watches his plump ass while he walks over to his vest.

“I’m fuckin’ busy,” he says into the radio and drops the vest, turning and grinning from ear to ear as he sees Daisy laid back, running her fingers through her folds as she eyes his hard cock.

“Fuckin’ busy or busy fuckin’?” The voice replies as Gator makes it to the edge of the mattress, stroking his cock while his eyes rake over Daisy’s body. “You with that whore again, ain’t ya, Gator?”

He rolls his eyes and climbs back on the mattress, gets between Daisy’s legs and slaps the head of his cock against her pussy, “Ignore ‘em, they’ll leave us alone.”

Daisy is used to what everyone says about her. Hell, the majority of Stark County Sheriff’s Department has paid for her services. She’d be amiss to ignore the realization that Gator talks about her to them, though.

“You tell ‘em about me?” she giggles, moving her hands up to play with her nipples while Gator drags the tip of his cock through her folds.

“Sure do,” he mumbles, “Tell ‘em you let me fuck your ass for no extra charge.”

“You get a flat fee,” Daisy admits, looking up to see his gelled back hair coming undone, the longer strands flopping out. He’s so frustratingly good looking, can’t help herself to grab his arms and pull his lips to hers. As Gator kisses back, he slips his cock into her hole which makes Daisy moan against his lips. Her legs come up to wrap around his waist and her arms drape around his shoulders.

He grinds into her cunt nice and deep before snapping his hips, head of his cock hitting her cervix in a way that has her body jolting and nails dragging down his back. Tears fill her eyes at the sharp sensation but Gator doesn’t relent, pounding into her pussy with abandon. Daisy has to bite his lip to stifle her cries but the assault makes Gator growl and break the kiss, pulling back and wrapping his fingers around her neck. Not applying too much pressure, but pressing her into the bed while he hammers his hips impossibly faster and harder, face all contorted in frustration and pleasure.

“Ya wanna bite me, bitch?” he grunts out.

Daisy whimpers, eyes rolling back in her head as Gator drills into her. Euphoria radiating all over her body as Gator slams against her g-spot repeatedly, turning Daisy into a drooling, incoherent mess as her voice attempts to apologize. Gator pouts, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as he slows his thrusts.

“Poor girl, make you cockdrunk already?” his voice is just a tad shaky, like he’s struggling not to fuck her into oblivion. “We just barely started, darlin.”

That’s another thing different about Gator as a client, the sex lasts hours. They usually do it more than once. Rest of her clients can barely last five minutes. Daisy wouldn’t complain though. Four hundred bucks for five minutes of laying on her back isn’t bad. Course, Gator gets a discounted price. Half off. It started because she actually enjoyed herself, had a rough time considering it work. Until he would leave, drop the cash on her dresser and not talk to her until he showed up for their next appointment. Gator makes her remember its work.

He drags his fingers down her arms before grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head, leaning down to connect their lips again. Daisy whimpers against it, squeezing her legs tighter around his waist and trying to chase the europhoria she felt just seconds ago. If he hadn’t slowed down she would’ve came. Gator likes to take his time, really drag it out of her. He can’t do anything without making it convoluted and difficult. Which he proves by shoving his cock as deep as it’ll go, their skin flush and then stills his hips. Pants into the kiss, moves his free hand up to squeeze her tit again. Daisy flicks her tongue against his and he wraps his lips around it, sucking on her tongue as he attempts to penetrate her even deeper. Fruitless, his cocks into the hilt, balls pressed against her ass.

The kiss quickly devolves into the pair of them moaning into open mouths, Gator thrusts but barely pulls back. And his cock is so hard and firm, Daisy’s squeezing around it with all she’s worth. Fuck, they’re libel to get stuck like this. Animals in heat. Pleasure swirling around in her stomach, bleeding down to all her nerves. They’re as connected as they’ll ever be, in the most raw and guttural way they can be. She opens her eyes as he pulls back, whimpers when his cock goes with him and she’s left feeling empty. Gator spreads her legs, looks down at her cunt and let’s a line of spit drip from his lips to her pretty, fucked bright pink pussy.

“Think it’s time you earned your money,” he pats her thigh, “Ride me, cowgirl.”

Daisy knows she’s well earned her money as is but she isn’t gonna say no to riding Gator. Gains a bit of her power back in that position. She nods enthusiastically and straddles Gator once he’s on his back, smoothes her hands through his chest hair and grazes her fingertips against his nipples. It earns her an almost pathetic moan from the man and Daisy’s giddy on it. She grinds her slicked up pussy against his hard cock, the slide easy from how soaked he gets her.

“C’mon, now,” he quirks an eyebrow, “Get on that cock and show me what you’re worth.”

Daisy licks her lips, lifts herself up and grabs hold of Gator’s erection, the head easily catches on her hole and she sinks down on him. Her puffy lips fall open as he fills her, a saccharine moan pouring out of her. He hums, eyes locked on where their bodies connect.

Then he directs her, “Slow. Wanna see it all. Need to see your pussy swallowin’ that cock.”

Holding onto his thighs, she leans back and slowly lifts her hips. Up until just the tips inside. She watches Gator’s expressions intently, his brown eyes blown wide with this hazy lust in them. Cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. His lips are swollen from the kisses.

“Take that cock, baby,” he mumbles out, sounding so delightfully dazed.

Baby. The word goes right to her head, makes her stomach fill with butterflies. Daisy complies, sinking back down on it and repeating the languid motions a few more times before she can’t take it anymore. Needs it faster and harder. Gator turns into a bumbling puddle, moaning out as he encourages her, “That’s it, yeah. Fuck yourself on my dick. Oh, yeah…”

“Gator,” she whines out, milking his cock with her tight cunt. Bouncing on his cock, squeezing his thighs for leverage. Her eyebrows pinch together and her mouth hangs open, chasing that burst of ecstasy only Gator can give her.

“Yeah, you filthy little slut,” he seethes, teeth clenched as his eyes dance around from their sexes up to her eyes and down to her tits.

Daisy huffs, moving a hand so she can rub erratic circles against her throbbing clit. Balancing herself on the one hand still plastered on Gator’s thigh. Feels the way her legs burn from exertion but she’s too focused on chasing the orgasm teasing her insides. Rides him like a woman gone mad. Gator’s moans turn breathless and border on whimpering, be it by her cunt quickly working his cock or her animalistic determination to get herself off, it’s doing something to him.

“Really workin’ for it, yeah?” Gator babbles out, “Gonna make yourself cream all over my cock, baby?”

“Feels so fucking good,” she heaves through pants.

“Mmm,” Gator’s hands snake around her hips, his own legs spreading which makes Daisy falter and she lets out a frustrated whine. “Don’t stop,” Gator tells her, fingers digging into her skin.

He begins thrusting up at her, the pair of them relentlessly humping each other. It’s a little sloppy, but the force of Gator’s hips pushes her over the edge. Intense waves of absolute heaven rippling through her, mouth open in a silent scream as she writhes against Gator. Vision gone absolutely white, riding out her orgasm blindly. Gator growls a laugh while he watches, reveling in the way her face scrunches and contorts as her body starts to buzz all over. He’s following close behind, before Daisy’s orgasm even finishes she feels his hot, thick seed filling her and leaking down the sides of his cock. Makes her cry out, body collapsing on top of him as he wraps an arm around her and fucks up into her, emptying all he’s got in her sore, used hole.

“Gator, Gator, Gator,” she chants breathlessly in his ear, tears trailing hotly down her cheeks as the aftershocks of her orgasm have her rolling her hips against him. Imagines he’s her husband. Imagines this is a marital love. That when they’re out in public they don’t hate each other.

He hums, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek before he’s pushing her off of him. Daisy lays on the mattress beside him, panting as she tries to catch her breath. Gator’s panting too, turns on his side and grabs her hip to pull her close. Drapes his arm around her as his lips find hers and they share lazy kisses.

“You let anyone else cum in ya?” he wonders aloud, lips dragging along hers. He hopes not. Can’t be too sure of her answer anyhow. She is a working girl after all. He pays her to be what he wants her to be. He still fantasizes about knocking her up, telling his dad he’s got no choice but to be with Daisy and keep filling her up with babies. She’s on birth control though, has that chip in her arm he hates so much.

“Gator,” she sighs as she presses her hand to his jaw and kisses him softly, “You’re the only one I let fuck me raw. Therefore… you’re the only man who's nut in me.”

He cringes, “Don’t talk like that. S’not ladylike.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m not much of a lady,” she kisses him again, can’t stop kissing him.

#gator #gator tillman smut #gator tillman #gator tillman x oc #gator Tillman x original character #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman x original female character #gator tillman fic

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Now I am curious about the girls day with batmom, can we have it pls?

Bruce looked around the table at lunch and frowned, "Alfred where-"

"Miss Y/N took the other ladies in the house for a girl's day. Miss Cassandra and Miss Stephanie needed school clothes and Miss Barbara offered her assistance," Alfred said simply.

Bruce's frown faded slightly and he grunted, "Did they take-"

"They took the Jeep, I believe."

_________

You look at the flamboyant bald man currently trying to persuade Barbara into much longer nails and raise your eyebrow over the rim of your mimosa glass, "Roland, the girl said no," you tut. "They all do too much work with their hands to have the Dragon Talons you like designing."

Roland sniffed, "It's a pity any of you work with your hands- these callouses are a crime. What are you doing anyway-"

"Whatever they like. Don't you worry your pretty little head. Just do what they ask."

"I don't know why I bother with you," he scolded without any real heat. He bothered because you tipped well and told the best dirty jokes... but. He was still irritated that you hadn't let him bedazzle your fingertips.

"I thought it was because you like having something to complain about," you tease. Next to you, Cass smiles a little where she's watching with interest as someone applied lime green sparkly polish to her toes.

"I just can't believe Bruce agreed to pay for all this stuff," Steph snorted.

"Oh no sweetie," you laugh, "I just don't give him a chance to say no.."

'She really doesn't," Barbara said grinning when Steph's eyes went wide as she deliberated over purple polish colors. "She just declares she's doing something and if he doesn't like it, he can sulk about it."

"Charmed life," Cass said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Roland made a soft envious sound, "Does he have a brother?"

__________

Steph eyed clothing racks and frowned, making a soft discontented sound. It was nice, being out with the girls. But it didn't magically make her mom less shit. Or the ongoing mess of her love life any less draining.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" you answer, holding out a shirt for her to inspect- 70's inspired. Purple. And would look nice with a pair of the flared jeans she'd already bought.

She took it, feeling the fabric and crinkled her nose at the price tag, "How did you do it?" she asked quietly

"What specifically-"

"I mean, after everything. Like- with-" she broke off the word 'cult'. Not sure if she was actually allowed to ask about that. Or about the time you left. Things that weren't really secrets but just not things you LIKED to talk about; not as anything more than a passing comment.

But when you pat her arm and add the shirt to what was laying on her arm, she gets a sense that you know.

"It took time," you answer after a moment. "But I had to make the choices that were best for me- even if they didn't make sense to anyone else. And more than that, I had to learn that it was okay to do that. That I didn't have to let my past determine my future. Any more than I ever had to be that... powerless ever again."

Stephanie bit her lip and you smile a little. "When my sister was killed," you pause and tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear, "I couldn't stop them. And I carried that guilt with me for a long time. Still do. But. I know that I can stop other girls from meeting the same fate. So- I focus on that. Because I can't control the past; or other people. All I have is right now. That's all anyone really has."

"That's- kinda depressing."

"It can be," you hum, "At least until you get used to it. There's something liberating about just saying 'fuck it' and learning to live for yourself."

Stephanie smiled. It was less rare to hear you use swear words but it still sounded funny, given that your usual curses were "Hell's Teeth" or "Son of a biscuit" around the house where the kids could hear you.

"When did you hit 'fuck it'?"

"About the time Dick and Tim gave me my new 'pet name'," you muse. "I think that's when I really figured out I didn't have to let ANYONE tell me what to do anymore."

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #mydeardove #batmom!reader #ask answered #minors dni

[red-dia]

Another Anon but speaking of HnK.

Seems Like Ichikawa lost a bit of storytelling in forth of themes she wanted to showcase, like at times it feels she couldn't find a way to reconcile her characters and plot points to the path she wanted to take, specially in the middle, specially the moon arc and forward can feel a bit... Weird, one of my biggest complains is she forgetting about the slugs for most part of it as they were not only victims to the lunarians but also a small thriving group deep in the ocean just like the gems were on the island, only being brought up when necessary.

It also feels a bit fast for some gems, lime yeah, having a big cast will make this but I think there was more potential to Cinnabar and Phos cute early link, Ghost and Cairn, Diamond who acted like a properly big sibling figure to Phos and so on, Idk, it feels like it lost some essence along the way.

Mmmh yeah I think the slugs are in a weird place because they're... obviously criminally underdevelopped, but also held back by their short lifespan, which makes them inherently incompatible with the pacing of the story. Which is very cool in itself since it's one of the only things that really contrasts with the gems/lunarians, but I imagine must be a pain in the ass to include when you're casually timeskipping ten thousand years like it's nothing 😐 Ultimately I think a few more chapters about them here and there could've done a lot for them, but i'm willing to give it benefit of the doubt because it feels like the kind of stuff that could come up again in the upcoming chapters

About the dynamics of the gems changing, yeah I think "essence" hits the nail right on the head. It's fine that their dynamics evolved given that the context is very different- and I think this difference in behavior was voluntary to an extent, and likely a way to showcase how individuals react depending on the kind of society that surrounds them, etc etc. But, the focus on the advancement of the plot neglected smaller, less impactful moments that would have done a lot for the pacing. In the end, I feel like a certain amount of readers weren't hit as hard as they should have when the gems disappeared because the buildup was pretty weak, and the gems had little to no new characterization that made it feel upsetting

#i realized i forgot to answer so im typing this a bit late lol sorry if it makes no sense. it does to me <3 #asks

[proceduralpassion]

I Don't Wanna Be Unfair | Chapter 08

Pairing: Jax Teller x OC (McKenzie Gilbert)

Summary/synopsis: Fresh off a broken engagement, McKenzie Gilbert has a one night stand with a random guy she never plans to see again. Soon after, their paths cross, which complicates several situations at hand.

Chapter warning(s): language, Brandon, smutttt (oral sex; both male and female receiving, PiV sex)

WC: ~6.3k

McKenzie slid out of her car, not seeing but knowing that Jax was watching her. He was still standing by his bike parked directly in front of his garage. Once she had traipsed over towards him, she planted a soft kiss on his lips before teasing, “Eager, aren’t we?”

Jax raised his eyebrows in challenge and led the way towards the front door. He moved to allow her in first and she playfully pushed his shoulder as she entered. When he looked back from locking the door, he only saw the swing of a few of her twists as she disappeared down the hall. Releasing a soft chuckle, he followed the path that she had just sultrily glided along. When he turned the corner to his room, he found her sitting on the bed, unclasping the strap in her heels. 

“And I’m the eager one?,” he joked. McKenzie chuckled as Jax ran his eyes up and down her frame. She was barefoot now and unzipping the back of her dress. 

He walked closer to her and softly asked, “You sure about this?”

She paused her unzipping and stood. Her brown eyes pierced his own and she slowly nodded her head. And then, she turned around to allow him to finish unzipping her dress. The lime green silk material hit the floor with a faint thud and she turned back around to him. Their lips met in an eager and greedy kiss. They languidly moved together, Jax leading her backwards towards the bed. Before he could lay her down flat against the bed, she lifted up and flipped them. The swift momentum took him by enough surprise that his eyes blinked as he adjusted to their change in position. She pressed her hands into his shoulders, gripping him and bracing him against the mattress. He looked up at her with a grin, enjoying the feeling of her nails lightly digging into his skin. He slipped his own shoes and socks off while their lips met again.

Soon enough, McKenzie’s kisses trailed down to his neck. In the morning, there’d be dark blemishes resembling bruises across his skin. His hands moved to her waist while hers found the belt and zipper of his jeans. Throughout their lips exploring each other, the rest of Jax’s clothes disappeared and now they were both in just their underwear. McKenzie grasped onto Jax’s chest, caressing the random stab scar here, bullet wound there. Jax’s hands traversed the hills and valleys of her frame, enjoying when his light touch caused her to flinch a bit.

Gradually, her kisses moved lower and lower until her teeth grazed the carved, defined muscles of his Adonis belt. He hissed between his hitches of breaths at the sensitivity. At the sensation of her pulling his boxers, he lifted some and allowed her to remove them. 

In their previous two encounters, she hadn’t had the chance to truly admire his body. Maybe if she had, she would’ve recognized the various SOA tattoos he sported earlier. But, can’t take back the past…

So she decided to enjoy the present and really absorb just how sexy he was. The slicked back hair. The blonde goatee with hair traveling the sides of his jaw. The chiseled abs. The sinewy muscles. 

His hand pressed upon the top of hers, almost in a silent, desperate signal for her to continue. In appeasing him, she glided her tongue across where her teeth had just grazed.

“Kenz,” he breathed out roughly. She looked back up at him for the first time since their lips had met and her blood ran warm with the dark desire swimming in his eyes.

She stood and found his eyes moved with her as she ascended from her bent position. Her hands found his shoulders again and he was pushed back into the mattress with her following after him. Her body was firmly pressed up against him, but only until she found herself able to wriggle out his strong embrace. She slid back down and without a second glance, took him in her mouth. His eyes immediately flew open and he lifted his head some, in order to see her. Her motions were slow and intentional, and he knew by the look in her eye through her eyelashes that she knew exactly what she was already doing to him.

He felt like he was struggling to breathe. Unable to tell up from down or what dimension he was in right now. 

He placed his hand along the top of her head, guiding her, not that she needed it. If anything, his touching her was for his own benefit. So that he was grounded on earth. Because her lips and tongue were absolutely throwing him into another galaxy right about now. She picked up her pace and it took everything in him to sit still. He could just barely resist the urge to either collapse back into the pillows or lift his hips up into her mouth. Focusing on what she was doing to him right now was both disjointing him and stitching him back together. 

Her free hand scratched the expanse of his abs while the other assisted in her ministrations. Everything about her was lighting his body on fire right now and he was searching and chasing for the water to salve him. She had complete control of the situation right now, something he wasn’t used to but wasn’t complaining about in the slightest.

Her movements began slowing down but her passion was still on a high. She closed her mouth tightly around his member, sucking the tension out of his body. A low groan left his lips as his hand returned to gripping her twists. She spared yet another quick glance at him through her eyelashes. If her mouth wasn’t busy, she’d probably giggle at the way his hips involuntarily rose in response to her. 

When she removed her lips from him, he sighed in relief. As much as he wanted that release and for her to finish what she started, he didn’t want things to be over for them already. 

McKenzie’s kisses began soaring back up his chest until they were finally eye level once again. She ground herself into him and they shared a moan at the feeling. Together, they worked on removing the final articles of her clothing; her unclasping her bra and him pulling down her panties. 

Jax brought her face back up to his and kissed her again. She could feel his desire for her against her thigh, along with the desperation with which his hands roamed her. He clenched his hands under her leg and used the leverage to flip them over once again.

She yelped out in surprise and giggled in between their kisses. He began to leave his own marks across her skin as his lips traveled further down her neck, shoulders, and then her breasts. When his teeth lightly grazed over one of her nipples, her hips bucked in response, the response that Jax had been looking for.

For a moment, their eyes met in the darkness and connected. Silently, Jax asked if she was alright, if she was sure of going through with this. And without words, she spoke as if to say “we’re already here, aren’t we?”

And with that, he settled his face between her thighs and resumed his open-mouthed kissing along her skin. Soon enough, his tongue was going to work, eliciting the unholiest of moans from her. Her mind went blank from the sensation of him exploring her with his mouth. Her grip on his hair tightened as he added his fingers to bring forth more pleasure. Even, if not, for her loud moans, he could feel her appreciation for his ministrations as he felt her tighten around him.

Never halting his movements, he continued all the way through even after she found the brink of her release. McKenzie trembled underneath him as he slowly eased her back down to earth. Clouds of her euphoric haze began to finally dissipate and it was then that she could feel him right upon the brink of entering her. He looked at her for a final moment, silently asking for permission. She nods and he gives a slow, initial thrust into her.

Her legs wrapped around him as he gradually increased the speed of his movements. Just like the first two times, their movements were desperate and needy. McKenzie’s nails sunk into his skin while Jax gripped one of her legs as if it was the only thing keeping him from falling over a cliff. His head eventually fell to the side of hers as he thrust into her at a blinding pace. 

It was a familiar rhythm they found themselves falling into as their pants and moans were the only noise that filled the air. This had become their normal together, frantic and frenzied. Neither of them held back as they gave the other what they wanted.

*********

McKenzie’s body felt sated and achy as she started to re-dress. Glancing at the clock, it was still in the wee hours of the morning. A sly grin painted her face as she thought about all that her and Jax had done in the hours they’d been together. She hadn’t even intended to stay so long, but one thing happened after another and one round turned into four. Given the energy spent, there were snacks and a quick, power nap in between, but even then, they simply couldn’t resist going at it one more time for the road.

“You know…” She heard Jax clear his throat, “You don’t have to leave, if you don’t want.” He was still reclined back in the sheets with his hands behind his head. He’d been watching her as she started to get dressed.

She looked back at him with a smile as she picked up her dress.

“I should probably get back before my sister calls for a search party,” she noted as she zipped up the back of her bodycon. 

He nodded and McKenzie paused for a moment, attempting to decipher his unreadable expression. It wasn’t annoyance, but he also wasn’t jumping for joy. Deciding to do everything she could to make this arrangement not go left so early on, she asked him directly.

“What?” 

A soft sigh escaped his lips, “It’s nothing. It’s just- I know we’re keeping this on the DL for a very good reason, but I don’t want you feeling like my dirty little secret. Fuck, then go home, and then swing by again whenever we get that itch?” Jax shook his head, displaying his dismay for the tone of the situation.

“OK, but that’s kinda what we agreed to, no?” She cracked as a joke. Really, she didn’t feel used or at least in an unequal situation where she wasn’t using him the same way he was using her. It was transactional. Consensual. But obviously something that Jax still seemed to worry about. His frown was now apparent and McKenzie paused her dressing to walk closer to the bed.

“What is it, Jax?”

He looked at her for a moment, trying to gather and order his words the way he wanted them to come out. It wasn’t happening, though. They were still sloshing around any kind of way, so instead of taking any longer to reply and creating an awkward silence, he just blurted out the first sentence that legibly formed.

“What are we doing, Kenz?”

With confusion in her features, she replied, “We’re having fun.” 

“I know, but…” Suddenly, Jax was having post-sex clarity and he wondered if their arrangement was really smart, “We can’t keep this up, can we? These random hookups whenever… Surely, this doesn’t end well for either one of us?”

“And why not?” McKenzie crossed her arms, “I mean, we’re grown. We can do whatever we want. And there’s no reason why this has to end bad. All we have to do is stop when one of us says stop.” She paused for a moment, “Do you wanna stop, Jax?”

“What?”

She asked a second time, but this time more slowly, “I asked if you want to stop. You seem like you’re getting cold feet. …Or do you want this to be more than just hooking up? I don’t know where you’re going with this…”

Jax’s eyebrows rose up at the last half of her speech, “I thought you didn’t want to date.”

“I don’t. But I’m asking you,” she replied with a chuckle. She sat down at the edge of the bed and touched his leg. 

“Now, I’m confused,” He responded honestly.

McKenzie sniggered again, “Jax, I meant what I said earlier. I want us to work. Whatever this is. This is me doing that. We need to be on the same page. So I’m telling you right now, I have absolutely no problem with us just having fun. It’s what I want. For us to just keep things casual. Simply fun. That’s it.”

“So using each other for sex,” Jax surmised.

McKenzie rolled her eyes, “This is a mutually beneficial agreement, not something either of us are being forced into.” And then she looked at him pointedly, “Unless you say otherwise…”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, Jax, I’m serious! I wasn’t bullshittin’ just to get into your pants. I meant what I said then and I still mean it now. You don’t have to be afraid I’m gonna renege on our deal.”

She sighed exasperatedly, but really she was glad that they were getting this out in the air. The less chance that feelings get unnecessarily hurt. 

Jax nodded in acknowledgement, some of his stress and apprehension rolling off him now. 

“Well then, it’s settled,” she said as she finished getting dressed. “I’ll see you later, thanks for tonight.”

With a kiss on the cheek as her parting goodbye, she was grabbing her heels and out the door. He collapsed back onto the bed when he heard the front door shut and blew out a breath. Maybe things had been made clear between them, but there was still the feeling of unease in his stomach at what they were doing. He wasn’t quite sure how to work out what he was feeling. 

“The hell did I just agree to?” He muttered with a chuckle.

*********

Jax walked into the Garden, rubbing his hands together. It was only a short distance from his bike to the entrance, but the morning air was chilly and left him seeking warmth. He nodded to Bobby and Flu who were looking through documents together over coffee. He was impressed with how early they were hitting the books. It’d been a couple of weeks since the new year was brought in and the clubs were working on securing financing with the bank for buying up the first of some commercial properties.

“Morning, Teller,” Lisa sang. She was at the bar, pouring herself a cup of joe before grabbing another mug for him. 

“Hey Lise,” he greeted with a smile.

He nodded his thanks once she passed the freshly brewed beverage to him and immediately took a gulp. The kitchen door opened up and McKenzie appeared in her paramedic polyester.

“Okay, I’m off to go crash for the day,” she said in passing to Lisa.

“Oh.” Jax spouted. It had just come out, mainly from surprise at seeing her.

She looked up at him and her eyes widened upon recognition, “Hi, Jax.” 

Lisa’s back was to McKenzie so McKenzie’s surprised expression formed into a flirty smirk when she noted that Bobby and Flu’s attention was elsewhere. A couple of weeks into this arrangement and Jax still found himself not knowing what to do at times. A grin escaped his face at her smirk, but other than that, he wasn’t entirely sure how to interact with her, much less around others. Should they never speak? Should they act like they just became BFFs? Should they just stick to hi’s and bye’s?

He choked out a greeting back once he realized he should probably respond to her. Nearing his lips back to his coffee cup, he hoped that saved him any awkwardness from the small pause. 

Despite McKenzie explicitly stating that he could break this off whenever he wanted, he didn’t want to. Bouts of discomfort, be damned. It didn’t matter enough for him to end things before they even started. Part of him wondered if this is what it’s like to see incoming trains about to collide but unable to look away. Or if this is like when you can feel what could be a good thing happening but hesitant to jump the cliff into the unknown.

Logically, he knew the cons might stack up against the pros. Sure, they were explosive together, but what happens if someone from the clubs were to find out?  What happens if Gil were to find out? What happens if Brandon were to find out? There’d definitely be questions as to when their relationship began. And Jax didn’t want McKenzie to have to go through that. She hadn’t done anything wrong, she hadn’t cheated. But Brandon surely wouldn’t see it that way and it’d only cause discord within the ranks. Was a casual fling worth that? They were adults and it was no one else’s business, but they’d both be naive to think at least some drama wouldn’t spill out from this. 

Maybe, this was something they needed to reconsider. He didn’t know if “cold feet” was an accurate term to describe anything relating to a meaningless fling, but maybe they should add a little more meat to their agreement before continuing. 

From the sounds of her and Lisa’s conversation, McKenzie was getting ready to leave and get some shut eye after a long, twenty four shift. It probably wasn’t the best space for them to be having this conversation, anyway. Not with potential prying ears. The only problem seemed to be that they were ripping each other’s clothes off whenever they were in an empty space alone.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he said goodbye to them both before heading up the stairs in search of Gil. His steps came to a slow stop as he approached the lounge room. Brandon was on his phone, but gave a hesitant, greeting nod when he heard Jax. 

“Teller, can I uh- talk to you for a minute?” Jax shared the same hesitance that Brandon did, but he still nodded his head, silently gesturing for the Street Wolf to continue, “I just wanted to clear the air… Maybe start from a clean slate. I was doing too much and I’m not that kind of guy. So… fresh start?”

There was a pause where Jax wasn’t sure how he wanted to respond at what sounded like an apology, but he knew any continued discord needed to be avoided. And with that, he put forth his hand, signaling for a handshake.

Brandon immediately took it and spoke, “I know I may have to earn your trust. And respect, too. But everyone’s gotta pull their weight to make this partnership work, so I’mma do my part.” 

Jax’s face was unreadable, but he nodded yet again to acknowledge that he’d heard the man. His tongue clicked against his teeth as he thought over Brandon’s words in his head. He seemed sincere. There was earnestness in his face. But everything he knew about the man thus far hadn’t even put him in the realm of trustworthiness. No matter how much Jax wanted to take him for his word, he knew it was best to tread lightly. And what with the fact that he was also currently messing around with the man’s ex… Yeah, Jax needed to play it close to the vest. Someone like Brandon didn’t just lose all that ego overnight.

“Well, gotta see it to believe it, but don’t worry bro, we’re straight. There’s no reason you and I gotta have problems, y’know?”

“Exactly,” Brandon responded with a smile. He dropped his hand but before he could turn back to what he was doing, Jax grabbed his attention once more.

“But Brandon…”

He looked up.

“I’m probably not the only one or even the most important one who probably deserves an apology right about now.”

Realization set into Brandon’s features. Jax caught it before the man’s whole face hardened and then quickly reverted back to a more allaying disposition. Though reluctantly, he nodded.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he conceded before heading out of the lounge room.

Instead of lingering around himself, he decided to chill in what had become his unofficial dorm room. Sure, it wasn’t technically his, but no one else used it out of respect and making sure the SAMCRO president had a place of his own to sleep until the Redwood charter could get their own official clubhouse again. Gil and himself were supposed to be meeting to put an offer in for a couple of the ghost town properties now that the bank had all but agreed in writing that they would provide a loan for the mortgages. Jax had gotten here earlier than they were supposed to meet, which would give him time just to relax a little in his dorm room.

As he neared the door to his room, he frowned at a puzzling slight. The door was somewhat ajar despite the fact that he was sure he kept it closed whenever it wasn’t in use. And Rev had explicitly said the room was his and his only to use while he was here. 

He walked closer and slowly pushed the door wider. His eyebrows rose at the sight in front of him. McKenzie lounging on his bed with the widest of smiles on her face. She smirked with a knowing look on her face as he quickly shut the door tight. And locked it for good measure.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you were going home,” he whispered.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I told Lisa I was too sleepy to drive and that I’d take a quick cat nap before hitting the road,” she chuckled, “Figured you’d come in here at some point.”

With his eyebrows still raised up to his forehead, he tread carefully over to her and declared, “You. Are. Trouble” in between soft kisses. 

“Damn good trouble,” he emphasized as the kiss grew deeper. 

Her hands moved to his waist and grazed over his SAMCRO belt. Desire and need pooled into their touches and the longer they went without stopping themselves, the deeper they were ready to fall over the edge together. 

It was risky, them doing this here. But also exhilarating and nearly irresistible. Instead of getting himself too stuck into his own head, he let her take the lead with where this went. 

Without saying a word, she finally undid his belt and pulled him towards her. Her hands unzipped his zipper and undid his button. With a silent pat, she gestured for him to rise a little so that she could slide his boxers and jeans down his legs. The silent rush of air from the momentum of being pushed elicited a chuckle from him. She didn’t completely remove his kutte and flannel, but she loosened the first few buttons to be able to explore his chest. Her eyes ran over his tattoos and along the way, she stopped to admire the purple splotches and half-moon marks that littered the terrain from their previous sessions over the past few weeks. A proud smirk rested on her face which evoked a warning glare from him. He could take off her shirt right now and find plenty of vengeful blemishes carved into her own skin. And if they had the time for something other than a quickie, he’d plant more just because he could.

Instead though, he moved some to allow her the space to undo her own clothing. His mouth ran dry as he watched her remove her panties and work pants in one fell swoop. She’d only removed them from one leg and quickly jumped back into the sack by plopping onto his lap. He watched in desire as his eyes wandered up to her thick thighs that straddled him. A soft groan escaped his lips as she impatiently ground against him, which she shut up by returning her lips to his. He roughly grabbed her hip to steady them both, but also because he was petty and expected to see a hand-shaped bruise on it later the next time they met up. 

Their kiss gradually slowed into an agonizing snail’s pace while McKenzie’s attention wandered between them. She grabbed him fully into her grasp and gave a few teasing strokes before aligning themselves and sinking onto him.

She gasped at the sensation, not stopping to give herself time to adjust. Their hips met where she could feel the base of him and Jax’s soft, sensual touch didn’t help matters as his other hand snaked its way up her shirt. She began moving, bouncing, thrusting and Jax kept his lips to her to keep them from exclaiming their lewd moans beyond these four walls.

His hand slid up to her breast, twisting at her bra to get a feel for the soft mounds of skin underneath. As roughly and quietly as he could, he also began to thrust up into her, matching her stride. They never liked to be outdone by the other and so each time they fucked, it was a fight and a marvel to see how well they could keep up with each other. He smirked into their kiss at the sensation of her legs already trembling. 

Their movements continued in a frantic and erotic rhythm as both his hands clenched onto her hips. He began to buck into her at an unrelenting pace that she was struggling to maintain on her own. Her thighs were on fire and she pulled out of their kiss, only to sink her teeth into his shoulder. His grunts were close to her ear, which only drove her farther into a frenzy.

She was closing in on her release and he knew it. It was becoming that much harder for her to quiet her moans even while biting him and he could feel her squeeze tighter and tighter against his dick. He was on a tightrope where he could fall into pain on one side or pleasure on the other. He freefalled into euphoria, dragging her along with him as she reached her own pulsing peak. 

Her body went slack against him and his chest heaved as though he was finished with a 400m race. They rested into each other’s arms as their highs gradually descended and brought them back down to California, in this room together. 

“That was…” He breathed out and chuckled at his inability to finish his own statement between breaths. McKenzie looked at him, experiencing heavy respirations herself and finished the sentence for him. 

“Fun.. That was very very fun.”

She planted a sweet kiss on his cheek before dismounting him. They slowly made the moves to make themselves look presentable once again, with the duo sneaking peeks at the other while doing so. 

She buttoned up his last flannel button with an almost bashful smile. Almost. Confidence was probably her middle name when it came to sex.

“Thanks for that,” she expressed while tucking her shirt back in. She could already feel the soreness of where the bruises would form on her hips from the rough clutch of his hands. 

“So, you’re still okay with this? Our arrangement?”

An amused simper formed on her face, “Did me riding the shit out of you just now not clear up that I very much like this situationship?” They shared a laugh together before her tone turned more serious. “I’m good with this, Jax. Are you?”

“Yeah,” he readjusted his belt, “Yeah, I am, actually.” Apprehension about anyone finding out about this, be damned, he definitely didn’t mind the fun times they shared together in the sack. Still though, he couldn’t help but ask just to make sure they were on the same page, “So we’re still making sure that absolutely no one will know of this, right?”

She looked up with widened eyes and a frown. Jax silently cursed himself and hoped it didn’t sound like he was ashamed of their “situationship” but that was actually the furthest thing from McKenzie’s mind.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page about people not finding out. Like, not even Lisa or Sairah-”

“Yeah, we’re definitely not telling anyone. It’s no one else’s business but ours.” 

Her mind didn’t even flit to whether he was ashamed of being with her or their arrangement, she just didn’t want to even think about the fallout of what might happen if anyone were to find out. Lisa and Sairah probably wouldn’t blab about it to anyone, but the less people that know, the better.

“Just us,” she muttered again for emphasis.

He nodded in agreement and put his hands in his pockets, “You realize this means we’ll have to be more careful, then?” His words were serious, but there was a melting, flirtatious smirk staring back at her. “Sex in the literal wolf’s den probably shouldn’t be a common occurrence.” 

“I didn’t hear any complaints,” she cracked back but acceded with a nod. 

“You definitely didn’t, but we’re literally up under everyone’s noses.”

“Yeah… It’s just that driving across town to Charming was getting tiresome and boring and I like a little spice in my life,” she winked.

“Well, who said anything about only fucking at my place?”

“I’m still living with Sairah until I can find a place of my own,” she defended.

Jax’s voice got dangerously low, “I didn’t say your place. There’s cars… Drive-in theaters… A hidden spot in the bushes if you’re into disorderly conduct.”

He took a few steps closer to her and she smoothly maneuvered herself out of his grasp, “Ohhh, you’re threatening me with a good time and you don’t want these problems,” she giggled.

“Problems?” He questioned as he watched her saunter towards the door.

“Yeah, you’ll unlock the beast and then fall in love with me. I’ll ruin you for all other women.”

She gave a little wave and a few purposeful eyelash bats before slinking out the door and going on her merry way. 

**********

“Hey Rev, can we talk?” Rev looked up after turning off his bike and removing his helmet. Brandon was in front of him, with his hands flush into his pockets. Rev didn’t actually say anything, but he wasn’t making any kind of aggressive or combative display so Brandon took a few steps closer so that they were eye to eye.

“I wanted to apologize,” Rev’s eyes narrowed in slight mistrust, “You’re my VP, but even more than that, you’re my brother. This whole time, you’ve only been trying to help and I’ve been a jackass.”

Rev hummed in agreement and folded his arms against his chest. 

Brandon continued, “I messed up, I know it. I’m just trying to put my best foot forward and make things right.”

The Street Wolf VP nodded, “And have you apologized to McKenzie yet?” 

And Rev didn’t need for Brandon to say anything with the way his defenses rose.

“You’ve been a shit head to her. She’s not a member of this club, no, but she’s a member of this family. Look, what’s done is done. You can’t take back all the bullshit you’ve been pulling with her all this time, but for everyone’s fucking sake, man, apologize and move on.” 

Brandon blew out a heavy breath and responded, “I’m trying to be better,” he confided, “I’m trying to change. This last year, I was a wreck. Stressed with everything we were doing to get out of guns and some other personal stuff… And it doesn’t excuse what I did, but you have to understand, I wasn’t myself.” 

“Then why didn’t you come talk to someone? I mean, take your pick, you’ve gotta bunch of fucking brothers who you could’ve came to. Instead, you fucked up your relationship and now you’re walking around mad at the world like you’re not the one directly responsible for the consequences to your actions!”

“I know. I know, man. When I cheated on McKenzie the first time…  I felt sick, man. Like, damn near puking for doing that to her. But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to stop. I was ignoring my problems, mines and McKenzie’s and it just… kept happening. That’s not an excuse. I’m not trying to justify it. I know I should have, at the very least, just broken things off before going off the deep end, but we didn’t work. There would be nothing left to salvage if I came clean to her the first time. We didn’t work. We never did and we weren’t going to. I should’ve ended things instead of proposing and I can’t take that back…” Brandon rubbed the side of his face in a moment of vulnerability, “I never meant to hurt her. I know that sounds like a lie because I’ve been a complete dick, but I never meant to hurt her. And I don’t wanna keep hurting her or the club. I’m trying to be better.”

Rev took a moment to digest everything Brandon just divulged to him before speaking, “Did you tell Kenz all this?” 

Brandon looking down upon hearing the question told Rev everything he needed to know. 

“Maybe you should start with that,” Rev suggested, “You need to apologize to her, B. Get closure or whatever. For you and her.”

Brandon nodded, “I know. But I gotta know me and my brothers are tight, too? You’re my best friend, man.”

Rev took a deep breath, closing his eyes as Brandon’s words marinated. He never wanted to lose Brandon as a brother and he still didn’t. He truly hoped that him and McKenzie could find a path where they were at least cordial to one another. So everything could go back to the way it used to be. But for some reason, in the back of his mind, Rev couldn’t help but think he never really knew Brandon the way he thought he did.

************

McKenzie sat on the couch in the living room, attempting to concentrate on the book in her hand. Every few minutes, he mind wandered over to where her phone sat on the end table. The ringer was on and the room was otherwise silent. She would’ve heard if any notifications came through, but she still found herself fighting the urge to pick up the device. 

It took another chapter before her will finally lost and the phone replaced the book in her hands. No messages. Not that it should be a surprise, but she still groaned to herself. There was no reason to be antsy. I mean, it was 2022, she could absolutely be the one to text first. And it’s not like they’d even made any concrete plans to hang out tonight anyway. For all she knew, he could have still been busy with her dad with putting in offers for ghost town property.

She knew that that’s why he was at the clubhouse yesterday morning when they had their dorm room rendezvous. And things had definitely picked up with getting business together now that the clubs were officially working together. So, she silently berated herself and determined that he hadn’t called because he didn’t want to deal with her, but simply because he could’ve just been busy. 

So, she sucked it up and decided to text him.

| From McKenzie: You free? Sent at 5:23 p.m.

Short and sweet. There was no reason to hide behind pretense. They both knew why she was texting. 

| From Jax: Yep. Just got out the shower, too bad you didn’t text me earlier, I would’ve waited for you Sent at 5:24 p.m.

McKenzie rose up from the couch and reached around for her slides. Another text came through as she slipped them on.

| From Jax: Should I be expecting some company tonite? Sent at 5:24 p.m.

| From McKenzie: We’ll see Sent at 5:24 p.m.

Meanwhile, she was actively cleaning up to prepare to make her way to Charming. A few minutes later, right as she was headed towards the door, the sound of keys jingling could be heard. A second later, Sairah appeared, who jumped when she noticed how close her sister was to the door.

“Damn bitch, you tryin’ to get knocked out?”

McKenzie chuckled apologetically.

“You going out?” Sairah inquired as she took off her own shoes and settled in.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go over to Evie’s for a bit. I won’t be out long,” she only felt a little bad about lying on her paramedic partner.

“Alright, have fun. Make smart choices.” 

With that, McKenzie once again headed towards the door. Only until she heard her name being called again.

“Hey, Kenz?” Sairah gave a warm smile, “Happiness looks good on you. Glad to see that smile back on your face these past few weeks.” 

McKenzie returned the glowing smile, “Thanks, baby sis.”

“Tell Evie I say hi. I’ll probs be sleep by the time you get back,” The young architect looked on her way into an evening nap as she lounged on the couch with the remote in her hand.

“I will, love you.”

“Love you, too!”

Giving her little sister a white lie about where exactly she was going stung a little, but it was better for everyone involved if absolutely no one knew what was going on. It was just better that way.

Soon enough, she was back at the SAMCRO president’s house and knocking on his door. She chuckled at the immediate sound of shuffling behind the door. They wore matching smug grins as they found themselves face to face.

“Back already at casa de Teller?”

“Shut up,” she threw back lightly while letting herself in. 

He threw up his air quotation marks, “‘We’ll see’, huh?”

A/N: Our favorite little whores! They’ve been having a good ol’ time, huh? 🥰💦 And Brandon… Y’all think he’s being sincere with trying to make amends?🤔 We gotta lil drama and danger coming up in the next chap. Just because they’re going legit doesn’t mean the chaos ends, right? 😉

Taglist: @drabbles-mc@ocfairygodmother@youlovetkay@est1887@rebelwrites@hey-taylor-hey@brownsugarcoffy @kmhappybunny240@readsalot73 @nunya7394

#sons of anarchy #jax teller x oc #jax teller x black oc #idwbu fic #c: mckenzie gilbert #passionatewrites fics

[madeprfect]

𝐈 . . . 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

name . . . christina florence cunningham. nicknames . . . cee, chrissy, chris. age . . . twenty three. sexuality . . . bisexual. date of birth . . . june forth. place of birth . . . hawkins, indiana. gender . . . woman. pronouns . . . she + her. current location . . . hawkins, indiana. languages . . . english, french. education . . . hawkins high. occupation . . . life guard at hawkins community pool. drinks . . . yes. vodka cranberry, or vodka lime and soda. smokes . . . no. ( has a stash of marlboro's in her draw for stressful moments ) drugs . . . yes. prescription medication, weed, anything that numbs her wild thoughts.

𝐈𝐈 . . . 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

zodiac . . . gemini. mbti . . . enfp. bad habits . . . hair pulling, nail biting, lip biting, bone cracking. secret talent . . . can carry a tune but doesn't like to sing in front of others. hobbies . . . painting, drawing, sketching. fears . . . wild animals. other mentionable details . . . suffers from depression, anxiety, night terrors, minor hallucinations.

𝐈𝐈𝐈 . . . 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 !

faceclaim . . . sydney sweeney. height . . . five foot. hair colour . . . blonde. eye colour . . . ice blue. tattoos . . . none. piercing . . . two lobe piercings. scars . . . scar above her left brown from a fallen bowl hitting her as a child.

𝐈𝐕 . . . 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

parents names . . . laura and phillip cunningham. parents relationship . . . married. siblings names . . . jackson cunningham. pets . . . family dog, labrador, named chester. income . . . upperclass. residence . . . upper class suburban area of hawkins.

𝐕 . . . 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 !

one . . . right here waiting, richard marx. two . . . she's like the wind, patrick swayze & wendy fraser. three . . . bette davis eyes, kim carnes. four . . . manic monday, the bangles. five . . . super trouper, abba. six . . . she drives me crazy, fine young cannibals. seven . . . love shack, b - 52's. eight . . . raspberry beret, prince. nine . . . new sensation, inxs. ten . . . sussudio, phil collins.

𝐕𝐈 . . . 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 !

may include brief mentions of emotional abuse, light disordered eating, loneliness, depression, anxiety and night terrors.

a screaming child is never a surprise in the cunningham household, they were never a family of happiness. a mother far to caught in appearances and a father that was just never there. chrissy grew up in a home that was never really filled with anything but quiet.

she learnt from a young age that to be seen, she had to be perfect, and so everything she did, she did with a level of perfection that couldn't truly be managed by anyone else. she passed her classes with flying colours, top of her class, head cheerleader faster than any other and she loved so hard.

everyone she met, she greeted with the sweetest of smiles and warmest of eyes, so much so that you wouldn't know the sleepless nights, the meals skipped and the heavy weight of a careless mothers words on the small shoulders.

not a harsh bone in her body, chrissy could never hurt a soul, she looked every bit of those mean girls from every movie of the year and yet, despite everything, she was still absolutely the warmest person in hawkins.

but those sleepless nights, her mind riddles with things she can't explain, her mothers horrible words disguised as a half hearted attempt at affection leads to other things, to looking for more, wanting something to numb the mind and she finds it in a rollie of paper, in a drink at a party, in an orange bottle with her name on it, with anyones name on it, she finds her release in little bursts and hopes no one can see that she's not perfect !

#⸻ 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴; 𝙸𝙲. ⋰ 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑒 . . . chrissy.

[puutterings]

and they turned their attention to the drama

        In the first place there were four little girls and they lived next door to each other. That is, their respective families lived next door to each other, and the children roamed about the country-side, or conferred solemnly in the Barn to discuss their various plans of action.       On a certain rainy afternoon the four assembled in the Barn, discontent write large on every face, and general irritablity in the atmosphere. The youngest had on a pair of boy’s rubber boots, new and shiny and was greatly pleased with herself. Of course it added to the general feeling of annoyance to see her stalking about enjoying herself, while they, bootless, had nothing to amuse them.       “Let’s read some more,” suggested the Oldest, and was greeted with a groan, for they had read all morning.       “And if you say dolls I’ll shriek!” said the One with Pigtails. Then the Youngest had an inspiration. After gazing fondly at her boots she exclaimed, “Let’s be boys! Girls can’t do anything anyway. We can play ball, and have huge muscles, and fight, not pinch or slap, but really hit, and not have anything to do with silly girls!” And here the Youngest arose, strode over to her sister, slapped her on the back, with “Come on out, old chap! My name’s Tommy! What’s yours?”       “I’m Jimmy!” her sister replied, returning the blow.       “Cut it out and come along!”       Now of course it rather confused and enraged their parents to be obliged to address their small daughters as Dick, or James, or else be greeted with stony silence. And in order to preserve a strictly masculine appearance the children even went to the extreme of chopping the skirt guards off their invaluable bicycles, which served the purpose of coaches and fours or prancing steeds. And every few days a wrestling match was held on the lawn. Two struggling forms could be seen, surrounded by a circle consisting of two excited brothers who were betting violently on the outcome. Active climbing and hanging from trees was considered excellent for developing the muscles. They saved their money to get a punching bag. The children were always saving their money for something, which, as they grew older, changed accordingly. Tommy always had more money than any one elese. His bank was always crammed with “I. O. U.’s” from his brethren, for Tommy had a good business head, and did not waste his substance.       But an ordinary boy’s life was soon found lacking in the romantic element, so with one accord they proceeded to investigate the mysteries of the Black Cat. Father entering the Barn suddenly, was greeted by strange sights and smells. Three witches were grimly stirring cauldrons or arranging rows of bottles (phials, one called them) while an unhappy looking magician stood stiffly in the middle of the floor.       “What’s the matter with Tommy?” asked Father. “Is he being a pillar of salt?”       The muttering and puttering of the witches continued. Finally one of them vouchsafed the reply that the magician had been turned to stone by one of their number. Jimmy, a disreputable hag, was trying to concoct a magic which would counteract the spell. Just then Jimmy flew up on a broom-stick, and threw a white powder all over Tommy, which bore a strange resemblance to the tennis court lime. Tommy relaxed from his position and stalked off to mumbling to himself and glaring back at the vengeful witch. Mother would often come upon witches in the kitchen, cooking ungodly stews of mosquito-netting and nails. Books were found lying about containing weird formulae: “Mosquito-netting and rusty nails boiled together make a substance that will put anybody to sleep for a thousand years.” “Three drops of olive oil mixed with lime turn a magician to stone,” etc.       But as all this was rather hard on the clothes — even of witches — Mother put an end to the puttering, and they turned their attention to the drama...

—

Mary Gail Clark, “Happy Hearts and Happy Faces, Happy Play in Grass Places” in Loose Leaves, The Vassar Miscellany 41:9 (July 1912) : 787-789 (NYPL copy) same (at hathitrust)  

ca 1924, Mary Gail Clark ’14 is giving piano lessons and is music critic of the Buffalo Times. vassar

more — Buffalo Seminary Alumnae (February 3, 2016) — ... Mary Gail Clark in 1910 wrote both words and music for SEM’s alma mater (proper title “To Alma Mater”). “To Alma Mater” was originally written as the Senior Song for 1910, but Miss Angell liked it so much that she proclaimed it to be SEM’s actual alma mater. Mary Clark was the daughter of SEM’s music teacher, Seth Clark, organist and choir master at Trinity Episcopal Church. An accomplished student, Mary was in the Glee Club, on the basketball team, and Editor-in-Chief of the “Seminaria.” Her life after SEM was as a professional musician. Prior to World War Two she married Alden Gomez, an atomic physicist. The war took them to Oak Ridge, Tennessee, where Alden was assigned to the top-secret Manhattan Project. Following the war, they stayed in Oak Ridge and Mary took up painting in place of music. A friend wrote of Mary in her last days as “happy in Alden’s companionship, happy in her painting and completely absorbed in it.” Mary Gail Clark Gomez died in 1987. source

aside — Alden B. Gomez was not a physicist, but rather a government (civil service) attorney, who was in private practice in Buffalo, New York, before working in the Tools Division, War Production Board, and later in the Atomic Energy Commission. sources — various, including Bradley Stoughton, History of the Tools Division, War Production Board (1949) : 42

still further down the worm hole —

The Art Center’s Permanent Collection is composed of a wide variety of works representing both international and regional artists. Many benefactors have contributed work over the years, enabling the Art Center to acquire an excellent, world-class collection.       The core of the museum’s collection is the Mary and Alden Gomez Collection, the main body of which are Abstract Expressionism works. Because our city and the abstract expressionistic movement were born out of the cultural, political, and societal upheaval of the World War eras, this group of works is very important to our history, our mission, and our hearts. Science and technological advances of this era, many conceived of and achieved first in Oak Ridge, challenged artists to find new ways of expressing themselves. The result was expressive creation without representational images...

May 27 through July 11, 2020 Selections from the Permanent Collection, Oak Ridge (Tennessee) Art Center www.oakridgeartcenter.org  

#1912 #Mary Gail Clark #gender #gender-fluid #nails #nuclear abstraction

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Rose Colored Girl

asjdnkaerhgakj yaallllll I am so so so lucky to have had @dazedandinked agree to collab with me on a fic! her art is FIRE and I’m just absolutely in love with what she drew for this fic! if yall arent following her you should be, even when im not in the fandom she creates for im just in awe. 

i mean LOOK AT THIS ART!!!! ITS GORGEOUS

Pairing: Yennefer/Triss

Tags: getting together, a serries of firsts, tattoos, getting tattoos, bartender yen, student yen, lawyer triss, situationship to relationship, first date, first  i love you, yennefer is a bit dramatic, side/background geraskier.

____________________________

First Meeting 

“What’ll it be, Power Suit?” Yennefer tried to control her distaste in her expression, but given the woman’s eyebrows were climbing up her forehead, she had failed. It was easier with the men. They looked at her chest, not her wrinkled nose and ‘dead eyes’. 

“Anything strong and cold. I’m coming from a funeral.”

This time when Yennefer scrunched her nose, it was in a detached sympathy for the poor girl. As Yennefer made her drink, she watched her pick at her nails and tug at the bun atop her head like it wasn’t usually there. Her dark clothes didn’t seem to fit well either, clearly not something worn frequently. 

“Not the suit type then?” Yennefer asked, setting a terrifying mix of tequila, gin, triple sec, lime, and grapefruit juice in front of the woman who clearly needed it. 

“Only in court, and never black.”

“Prosecutor or defense?”

“Defense. The current DA and I are in a pissing match at the moment actually. Don’t go into law unless you’re prepared to be disappointed in humanity,” The woman chuckled, a forced and bitter thing, as she sipped her drink and her eyes went wide, “What is this?”

Yennefer just shrugged and picked up a tray, “Regulars call it my ‘potion’. And I’m disappointed daily. You see wild shit as a bartender.” 

From then till the end of her shift, Yennefer was power walking all over the bar with barely time to check on the woman in the ill-fitting suit. When 8 pm hit and the dinner rush was over (and her replacement clocked on a half-hour late) Yennefer didn’t even bother telling Geralt she was transferring tables to him. He knew. The tables never tipped. And to be honest, neither she nor Geralt had the patience to do more than deliver their beers and scribble down their orders as hastily as possible on a slow day. They wouldn’t even notice they’d been handed off. Funeral girl, however, she was going to make an effort with. 

“I’m almost out of here, do you mind closing out your tab with me before I go?” Yen tried for her best charming smile, which she wasn’t used to relying on. 

The woman smiled, a distractingly charming smile, and dug out her wallet, “Only if you let me buy you a drink.” 

It wasn’t the first time a patron had offered something like this, surely wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time Yennefer didn’t have a smartass declining retort. She just smiled and nodded, raising her eyebrows when the woman insisted she ring up what she wanted, not just a well drink she could suffer through. 

She examined the woman as she closed the tab. Her card declared her name was Beatrice Merigold, but that seemed… wrong for the person in front of Yennefer. She was too warm to be a Beatrice. Yennefer suspected she usually wore her curly hair down, or at least in a protective style, from the way she kept adjusting it. Her eyes were a gold-flecked brown and her freckles were rather charming, adding to a sort of youthful radiance that made her clothes seem even more ill-suited to who she was the longer Yennefer looked at her. 

“So, Beatrice,-”

“Triss.” The woman interrupted, though surprisingly, after a day of being interrupted and ignored it didn’t irritate Yennefer. For some reason, it almost made her happy that this woman wanted to be on nickname terms. 

“Triss, what brings you to a boys club bar? Other than the funeral.”

As Triss recounted her journey into the mahogany and leather shit hole where Yennefer spent her days, the bartender unpinned her hair and let the long dark waves fall over her shoulder. It didn’t escape her notice how Triss’ eyes followed the action, or how she stumbled over her words when Yen struck her final listening pose. She knew she was attractive, used it to pay her rent with tips in fact, but she hadn’t pegged Triss as interested until then; just lonely. On the realization, she almost felt the urge to apply some lip gloss just to test the waters, but Yen found she liked listening to her talk too much to care.  

“...I actually almost walked into the tattoo shop across the street. I thought that might be a fun ‘new me’ thing but I was too chicken…” Triss sipped the last of the original drink Yen had made her, “I’m sorry, I ramble when I’m.. nervous.”

Yennefer actually smiled, a genuine smile, “Don’t be. And don’t go to that shop for your first. Ivan is fantastic but not the most gentle.” 

“You have tattoos?”

Glancing behind her to make sure a specific table didn’t hear Yennefer leaned in close, “Tons, just not where they can see.” she winked and sipped at her martini.

“Can I?” Triss’ smirk transformed into horrified embarrassment in an instant, “Shit. Sorry. That’s… that’s wildly-”

“Sure.” Yennefer’s nonchalant shrug turned into a laugh at Triss as she blinked in confusion, then relief, “We should go to another bar though. I find the entitled ones get a little touchy when they know I have ink.”

First Date

That one drink turned into two, then three, and Yennefer thought possibly four but it was impossible to remember when the place they went next only served doubles. Yennefer had woken an hour late for a lecture in Triss’ bed and decided the best way to deal with the frustration was more sex. Somehow Triss got Yennefer’s number and after-shift hookups became a bit of a habit. 

And Yennefer was fine with that. 

In fact, she preferred to keep her interactions with Triss between the hours of 10 pm and 7 am. She’d been lying to herself since her last miserable breakup that relationships just weren’t her thing so keeping things as painfully casual as possible seemed ideal. Between law school and bartending she didn’t have time for much more than hookups anyway. 

Regardless, she still found herself lounging across the bed with her head in Triss’ lap as the older woman ran her fingers through her hair while reading photocopy after photocopy for a case. It wasn’t domestic if it was at 2 am. Nothing that happened after 2 am counted anyway. 

“I was thinking about getting a tattoo.”

Yennefer shifted so she could peer under the papers with a shit-eating grin, “A sexy tattoo?”

“Maybe?” Triss looked at her in amused exasperation, “Can plants be sexy?”

“Hand me my phone,” Yen instructed with a wink.

“Not sentient vine plants,” Triss laughed, dragging the tip of her index finger down the bridge of Yennefer’s nose and adding a light tap at the tip, “Would you come with me though?”

Without thinking Yennefer started nodding excitedly and firing off questions in rapid succession. She somehow sent off an email to her study group meeting in the morning that she had to go into work and couldn’t make it while gushing over the pictures Triss showed her. Of course, the lawyer had gotten a peek of the design beforehand, ever the charmer. It only hit Yennefer what she was doing when Triss bought them coffee on the way to the tattoo shop.

It was after 7 am. And they were behaving like a… couple.

She kept both hands on her coffee as she mentally cursed herself. This was supposed to be casual, a booty call and stress relief. Now she was taking Triss to a tattoo shop and holding her hand? Well, Triss was taking her, but it still felt too… attached. 

Yennefer pointedly kept her distance and offered little nods of approval when Triss gave her uneasy glances. She felt entirely out of her depth as she watched the artist lay the stencil over most of Triss’ upper arm. Did Triss think they were a couple? Was this something she’d ask anyone to do? Or was it just because Yen already had tattoos?

A hum of approval jarred her from her thoughts. Triss was checking out the design in the mirror and the artist was taking the opportunity to check her out in turn. Anger flared up in Yennefer’s chest and she moved without thinking. Shooting the artist a particularly venomous glare, she moved to stand behind Triss and settled her hands over her waist, resting her head on Triss’ other shoulder. 

“Suits you. Do you like the placement?”  

Triss gave her a confused but amused look and placed one hand over hers, “I think so.”

“It’s going to be on you forever,” Yennefer reminded her, sparing another glare toward the artist who was now quirking an eyebrow, “I want you to be sure.”

“I am,” Triss assured her, looking in her eyes for a bit longer than Yen thought was necessary, “Thank you, love.”

Through the rest of the appointment, Yennefer held Triss’ hand and murmured encouragement to her. When they left and the artist called her Triss’ girlfriend, she didn’t even bat an eye, just linked arms with her and pulled her out of the shop.

“Time for chips,” Yennefer declared, “On me.”

“You aren't going to run?” Triss asked, a tone of incredulity and a tiny hint of hope in her voice.

Yennefer just shrugged and kept walking, “What kind of girlfriend would I be if I left you like this?”

“I’m fine…” Triss mumbled, staring at Yen like she’d grown a third eye.

With a snort, Yennefer held out her hand, “Mirror me,” when Triss did and her hand trembled Yennefer just raised her eyebrows, “Chips. Then a nap.”

“Will you nap with me?”

“Of course,” Yennefer murmured as she placed a kiss on Triss’ hair. She’d expected to be angry with herself, maybe more than a little disappointed, but all she felt was relief. 

She would be Triss’ girlfriend, there wasn’t much use fighting it anymore.

First “I love you”

Yennefer sat at the long mahogany bar, taking up three seats with her bag, ass, and the way she insisted on propping her feet up after every shift. Heels hurt, but a bartender in heels made so much more in tips than one in sneakers, especially in the business district of the city. As she swirled the cucumber spear around her martini, Geralt sipped his beer, counting the till and humming along to the music still faintly buzzing through the speakers. 

“I think I hate her a little,” Yennefer confessed, breaking the silence and earning a surprised, almost impressed, raise of the eyebrows from Geralt. 

“Hate fucking can be fun,” He mused, scribbling the totals on the bank sheet. 

Rolling her eyes, Yennefer knocked back the last of her martini, swirling the thick chilly liquid around her tongue until she tasted the basil, “Not that way.”

There was a brief silence while Geralt zipped up the right bags and put the right print-outs in the right envelopes. He was meticulous with his paperwork, a great characteristic in an employee, but Yennefer found it annoying when he took a half-hour to finish his closing duties. 

He sighed after he dropped the deposit in the safe and stood to see she was still looking at him expectantly, “If you want to talk relationships I need more liquor.”

“What a coincidence,” Yennefer smirked, slapping down a hefty chunk of her tips, “We’re in a bar right now.”

“How’d you meet her?” Geralt sighed, reaching for the mid-shelf vodka.

“Here.”

His hand swerved to the top shelf tequila before grabbing two shot glasses and pulling the lime out of the fridge, “No wonder you hate her.”

Yennefer scoffed, “She’s not a power suit cunt.”

Geralt set out the little tray of salt and a cup full of limes before rounding the bar and moving her bag to sit next to her, pouring each of them shots, “Spit it out. I’m not gonna trick you into it like Jask.”

They saluted each other before taking a sip of their tequila, “I am bitter,” she decided, “I am bitter and cynical and she just… floats through life. And you think everything's an accident but she’s so precise and makes everything look effortless and cares so fucking much.”

“So you hate her?”

“Well yeah,” Yennefer exclaimed, setting her glass down a little too firmly and turning toward Geralt, “It’s fucking irritating. She dresses in pastels and earth tones and she fucking smells nice and there are plants all over her fucking house! I shit you not, she takes more pro bono cases than the most prolific bleeding hearts but somehow she’s still doing just fine. And!” she paused to down the rest of her tequila, “And, she gets me excited about things. There’s this revoltingly contagious optimism that- that- fuck I don't know what to do with her.”

“You’re scared,” Geralt chuckled, ignoring the icy cold glare he received, “You’re not even out of law school and you’re already a cold-hearted monster. She’s soft and sweet and it scares you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk,” Geralt shrugged, still smirking as he downed his shot. 

Scared didn’t seem apt but horrified fit rather nicely. Yennefer mulled it over as she drove home, one more drink and a basket of fries later. Triss was brilliant and kind and sexy, and worst of all, Yennefer was softer around her. She had her own very precise and very harsh way of moving through a world that had never been kind to her and this woman was taking a battering ram to all of her defenses. Life didn’t seem as arbitrary and mundane when Triss had any part in it. Even memorizing landmark cases for her law history class was exciting with the curly-haired woman who giggled more than she actually spoke and traced the mandala tattoo on her thigh. 

Yennefer was almost home when the realization hit her, “FUCK.”

Before she knew it she was buzzing Triss’ apartment like it was still the 90’s and she didn’t have a perfectly good cell phone. She thought about calling her as she jammed her knuckle into the little red button over and over again, but what would she say? The extra time it would take to wake Triss up this way was absolutely necessary for Yen to put her jumbled mess of thoughts back together. 

“Who the hell is buzzing at 3 am?” Triss grumbled over the speaker.

“Hi. Uhm, it's me. Can I come up?” Yennefer cursed herself for how small her voice sounded. She promised herself a long time ago that she wasn’t going to need someone, but here she was. She tapped her foot and picked at her matte black acrylics the entire elevator ride up to Triss’ floor, still scrambling to think of what she wanted to stay.

When Triss answered the door Yennefer stood frozen. All the scripts she’d gone over on her way there flew right out of her head as Triss tilted her head in concern, eyes still blurry with sleep and hair in twists that were slowly unraveling as the night wore on. 

“Are you alright, love?” Triss spoke through a yawn as she reached for Yen’s arm and tugged her over the threshold, “What's so urgent it couldn’t wait till morning?”

Right, they had breakfast plans tomorrow. She could have waited five hours and maybe figured out exactly what she wanted to say too. 

“I- I needed to see you…” Yen stammered, letting Triss lead her to the dimly lit breakfast nook where a kettle was just starting to boil, “You were already awake?”

“No,” Triss laughed, setting her down on a plush bench to pour the hot water into a mug with Yen’s favorite tea, “You sounded upset.”

Yen took the tea offered and smiled even though she felt like she wanted to cry as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Triss sat next to her and tucked her hair behind her ear, simply watching her as she bobbed the teabag in and out of the water. Her fingers raked through Yennefer’s hair as the silence stretched on and neither of them so much as sipped their tea. Yennefer wanted to run. Or lean into her girlfriend and fall asleep, but she’d started this. For once she’d been impulsive, bordering on dramatic, and she had to suffer the consequences. 

She took a shaky breath and rested her hand on Triss’ knee, “My world is cruel. It has made me an angry, cynical bitch and I am fine with that. And I- I just need you to know that. Because you’re an amazing person and you deserve someone that lights up a room like you do,” Triss made to speak but Yen squeezed her knee and talked over her, “But I’m enough of a bitch to be selfish. Because… But because I love you, I need you to be okay with the fact that I am the way I am. I can’t bear the thought that one day you’ll realize I’m nasty and run.”

“Better to get it out in the open now?” Triss laughed. She fucking laughed and Yennefer could only stare at her in confusion. 

Still laughing, Triss set her mug down and held Yen’s face in her hands as she kissed her forehead, then nose, then finally a chaste kiss on her lips, “Only you would tell someone you love them while insisting you’re a horrible person. I love you the way you are Yennefer. Bitchiness and all.”

Tears started to well in Yennefer’s eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Triss insisted, wrapping Yennefer in her arms and holding her head to her shoulder, “You told my brother to suck your dick at my birthday party. I have no misgivings about who you are. I happen to find your aggression extremely endearing.” 

Yennefer finally gave a small smile, setting her tea on the bench behind Triss and wrapping her arms around her waist, “Say it again?”

“I love you,” Triss whispered, kissing the top of her head, “And I love that you feel safe enough to show up at my apartment at 3am.”

An embarrassing snort escaped with a watery laugh, “That was a bit dramatic, huh?”

“It’s okay. I find it sweet,” Triss hummed, rubbing her back in long soothing motions, “Let's go to bed, hm?”

Yennefer nodded and let herself be led to Triss’ bed where she fell asleep curled around the woman who loved her, content for the first time in a long time. 

#trissefer #yen/triss #yennefer/triss #triss/yennefer #the witcher #the witcher fic #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #triss merigold #yennefer fic #triss fic #yennefer of vengerberg fic #triss merigold fic #trissefer fic #yen/triss fic #bartender yen #student yen #lawyer triss #the witcher modern au #the witcher modern au fic #how do people art #comfy collabs #collab with dazedandinked #yall im so excited you have NO IDEA

[musubiki]

I've really come to love your written posts about introspection, the characters' feelings and fears, their weaknesses and self doubt, but I've grown curious: do they ever talk it out?

Assuming we're past the epilogue, the bad guys are defeated, mochi and lime are together and so are coco and taffy, is there some scene where lime is like "yeah you leaving me was like my worst fear and when you actually left it was like a nightmare come true and I almost resented you for it" to mochi or her saying "ahaha well when we were like 17 I knew I was in love with you and was going to be in love with you forever because that's how it works for witches but I was also insecure because you had a million girls drooling after you and I felt so different that I was convinced I was way too weird for you"?

Or maybe just coco and taffy talking it out, sharing trauma and hopes as they soak in each other's presence, just to have those misunderstandings resolved once and for all?

OHOHO WE DONT HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THE EPILOUGE !!!!! THEY HASH THIS SHIT OUT DURING THE STORY !!!!!!

limes whole thing about mochi leaving actually gets hashed out relatively quickly after she comes back (after she finds out lime is cat-ears). contrary to popular belief lime cant keep that shit bottled up for long, itll come out one way or another. mochi gets mad at him for 1) going to the underground when its SUPER dangerous for him and for her (if anyone were to find out who he was), and more importantly 2) for lying to her about it (and mochis anger/frustration is also her guilt of leaving all of them with barely a note leaking into her emotions)

and when he responds something like "well what the fuck did you want me to do when you left me for 2 years, sit on my ass and wait around?" and this lowkey turns into a fight where just. everything comes out. lime just starts running his mouth and then it wont stop. tells her how miserable he was when she left and was so mad and scared and how he knew why she had to do this and understood that as her guild, he supported everything she did but just couldnt stop that feeling of anger for being left behind and hated himself for feeling this stupid selfish way. manages to stop himself before blurting out that hes in love with her (mostly because he began to actually tear up and went "oh NOPE" and stopped talking) and MOCHI this whole time listening to him went from mad to shocked to sad and you hit the nail on the head he almost resented her for this and while he didnt explicitly say that, the point got across

and he probably tries to leave so she wont see him fucking crying but she just. locks him in such a tight hug apologizing profusely and telling him over and over how much she wanted to stay by his side but couldnt and wanted so bad to take him with her but couldnt and tells him its okay to feel like that and she understands and all this soft shit and its maybe the first time we see lime actually cry. buries his face into her neck and squeezes her into a hug so tight he might never let her go. mumbles out a "Dont fucking leave me again." and she goes "i know im sorry i wont"

and from this point on mochi is a lot better at being conscious of this part of lime. indirectly lets him know a lot how much she relies on him. i dont think she even knew about this part of him, how much he relied on and needed her until this moment

as far as coco and taffy go, those babes were hashing out their shit the entire story from start to finish when taffy joined the guild. i wouldnt say its a wisdom drop every episode like fruba but theres definately a lot of enlightenment moments. talking about how they feel and someone else just drops the perspective bomb on them. and coco and taffy do this for each other quite a bit. shes like the whole reason he got to the point where he was able to join mochis guild

#for mochis insecurities about loving lime....she never talks to anyone about it #because theres nothing anyone can say to make her feel better #'but youre so pretty!!" not when she compares herself to other people #but lime is really good at making her feel loved and special and makes sure she knows he only has eyes for her #bpp #GOOD Q #WE'LL SEE A LOT OF THAT PROBABLY #and then she once again manifests his fear when she. sacrafices herself at the very last fight #(but she lives so dont worry about it) #oh you thought mochi watching lime die was bad? now get ready for...lime watching mochi die

[staynoonaz9290]

Attention

**Sorry this took me so long - school has been kicking my butt - but I hope you like this!!**

Where the new season of Fortnite just came out, Hyunjae can't stop playing, and Maddie just wants his attention...

Group: The Boyz

Pairing: Hyunjae/Fem! Reader (Third Person-Maddie)

Rating: Teen/Mature

Warnings: Slightly Sexual/Smutty/Suggestive Content, Nightdress, Kissing, Sensual Touching, Language

Word Count: 1,660

Main Masterlist | The Boyz Masterlist

COMPLETE

Maddie rinsed the last of her conditioner out of her hair before shutting off the water, sighing when she could hear the echoes of her boyfriend’s video games carrying into the bathroom.

The new season of Fortnite had come out last week, and to say Hyunjae was obsessed would be an understatement.

Maddie understood of course- the new season was pretty cool- and the first couple days he played, she had played with him, the two of them laughing and enjoying their time together.

But it had been seven days now, and Hyunjae was still playing.

And Maddie kind of missed him.

Sighing, she grabbed the towel from the hook, drying her hair before wrapping the fabric around herself, stepping in front of the mirror.

Maddie knew this always happened when a new video game came out; her boyfriend was a bit of a nerd and- most of the time- she absolutely loved it.

Still, they’d barely talked- barely touched- and Maddie didn’t want to be annoying but she also just…

Wanted his attention.

But instead of whining or complaining- which she hated to do and also knew would never work on Hyunjae anyway- Maddie had a plan.

Smiling to herself, she glanced over at the pale pink, silky nightdress she had hanging on the bathroom door. She’d only worn it a couple of times- Maddie normally saved it for special occasions- but every time she did, Hyunjae seemed to like it.

A lot.

Quickly, she towel-dried her body, running a brush through her hair and scrunching the dark auburn strands a little before pulling the nightdress from the hanger. The fabric was soft and smooth as it slipped over her head, and she adjusted it on her body, checking her reflection.

The silk hugged her curves in all the right ways, a dip in the front for a little bit of cleavage, and the end of it stopped just at her mid-thigh.

She bit her lip, feeling sexy, smiling one more time at her own reflection before opening the door to the bathroom.

“Go, go, go-”

Hyunjae’s voice was louder than usual as she could hear explosions coming from the TV in the living room, followed by three gunshots.

“Ah! That was so close.”

Maddie giggled to herself, making her way into the room, Hyunjae not looking up at first, controller in hand, eyes trained on the screen. He had his lime green headset on, and now that she was in the room, she could hear Eric yelling through the speaker.

“Crap, I ran out of ammo- Oh wait no I found some, we’re good, we’re good-”

Hyunjae chuckled under his breath.

“Ju, where are you?” he asked, clicking harshly on a couple buttons. “Did you leave?”

“I’m looking for a car,” Juyeon’s response was much softer, barely audible really, but Maddie caught it as she made her way closer to the couch. “I think that’ll be best.”

“You can’t leave your team!” Eric cried. “Come back, someone’s after us-”

“No, he’s good, we need the c-”

But Hyunjae cut off, Maddie deliberately walking right in front of the TV, pressing her lips together around a coy smile as she looked at him, the man looking right back at her.

It was the first time he’d noticed she’d come into the room- noticed what she was wearing- his eyes widening slightly as they flickered up and down her body. There was another explosion on the TV, but he was still looking at her, a slow, playful smile spreading across his face.

“Jae, what are you doing?”

Hyunjae completely ignored Eric, hitting the mute button on his mic as Maddie walked closer.

“Is this for me?”

He was smirking- always a little full of himself- and even though it was for him, she rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath.

“No,” she answered, feigning annoyance. “Maybe I just think it’s comfy.”

But then Maddie sat right next to him, her leg pressed gently against his own, making sure the fabric slipped just slightly up her thigh, Hyunjae’s eyes darting to the exposed skin-

“JAE!”

Eric’s panicked voice was loud through the headset, and Hyunjae jumped, turning back to the screen.

“Yo, we need you dude!”

“I don’t know what happened,” Juyeon’s frustrated voice was much easier to hear now that Maddie was right beside the headset. “I couldn’t eat the mushroom in time, they came up behind me-”

“Shit.”

Hyunjae scrambled with his controller, hitting the unmute button.

“I’m getting a car, just stay low, try to save Juyeon-”

“He can’t, I’m on the other side, I was trying to get us a Jeep-”

“I can still go get him if you want me to,” Eric insisted. “I can do it-”

“No, no, we’ll get him in a minute-”

Maddie watched for a moment, biding her time, not too worried about Hyunjae’s attention being back on the game.

She knew what she needed to do.

“Okay…”

She watched as Hyunjae’s Iron Man avatar jumped into a bright red mustang, the engine revving before he was speeding along the grass.

“Eric, get in the car-”

“What car?”

“The red one!”

She saw Eric’s avatar climbing into Hyunjae’s car, Maddie turning to look at her boyfriend, his bottom lip lodged between his teeth in concentration.

Grinning to herself, she slid her hand up his thigh, going slow, Hyunjae not looking at her at first.

“Are we going back for Juyeon?” Eric asked.

“Nah, he sucks-” Hyunjae replied, making the younger laugh.

“Hey!” Juyeon sounded annoyed, but she could hear him chuckling slightly. “I was doing pretty great when you disappeared.”

“Yeah, for two seconds-”

Maddie’s hand slid further, past his mid-thigh, nails digging into the skin through the fabric of his shorts, and finally Hyunjae turned to look at her, a small smile pulling on his lips again.

But she looked away, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to his jawline-

There was another explosion coming from the TV, but she was already moving her lips to his neck, caressing the skin there gently. Her fingers were still scratching slightly into his thigh as Hyunjae sucked in a breath, her eyes darting up to see him pressing his lips together to keep from making a sound through the headset. Maddie smiled to herself, kissing a little higher up his neck.

She knew how sensitive Hyunjae was.

A few more gunshots came from the speakers before Eric was yelling again.

“JAE! You drove us right to them!”

Maddie was smirking against his skin before craning her neck, reaching up to leave a lingering kiss on his ear.

Hyunjae barely held in his gasp, his breath hitching in his throat before she saw him hastily hitting the mute button on his headset.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice a little strained, slipping slightly on the couch.

“What do you mean?” she asked playfully, nibbling slightly on the cartilage as she spoke directly into his ear.

Hyunjae moaned, his fingers slackening on his game controller, tipping his head to the side.

“Crap! I can’t- My gun-”

Eric sounded flustered.

“Ah SHIT!”

Maddie turned around just as Hyunjae was lifting his head a little, both of them staring at the screen just as Eric’s avatar was disintegrating.

You placed #23

The white words flashed across the top of the screen, and they could hear Eric’s cry of disappointment.

“Twenty three?” he said loudly. “That’s our lowest score!”

“I guess I’m not the only one bad at this game,” Juyeon joked, making Maddie laugh a little.

“Hyunjae!” Eric called. “You made us lose the match- wh-”

But Maddie had reached up, hitting the power button on the headset and taking it gently from Hyunjae’s head. He turned to her, smiling cheekily again as she set the device to the side, climbing into his lap.

As soon as she’d adjusted, Maddie leaned forward, kissing him deeply, his hands automatically sliding up her back as he brought her closer.

They turned their heads, lips in perfect rhythm, the smooth softness of them taking the breath from Maddie’s lungs as she exhaled. His hands were perfect as they slid up the silk of her nightdress, fingers splaying out to caress her skin.

“What’s this for?” he muttered, playful albeit a little breathless.

She started kissing down his jaw again, Hyunjae’s head falling back automatically with a small sigh.

“I just wanted you to pay attention to me,” she replied, speaking against the skin just below his ear. “You’ve been playing this game all week.”

His fingers were stuttering against her back, and she moved up, nipping at his ear lobe as he hissed, a small smile pulling on her lips.

“We haven’t hung out,” she continued, letting her breath ghost across the area, feeling him shift a little beneath her. “And I miss you-”

Hyunjae laughed breathily, his hands moving to her sides, tracing the curve of them as his palms slid slowly upwards.

“Okay, okay-”

He was trying to sound annoyed, but it wasn’t working, his mischievous grin as he pulled back to look at her giving him away.

“Well, maybe you should’ve just worn this from the beginning.”

His eyes were wandering up and down her body, Maddie’s legs still straddling his hips.

She giggled, smacking him lightly on the arm, and he laughed, too, eyes meeting hers before he was grabbing her hips, pulling her closer.

“So…”

His voice was quiet and a little lower as he leaned forward.

“What do you wanna do?”

Maddie smiled as he raised an eyebrow at her, reaching for the remote beside him on the couch.

“Well, first thing’s first-”

She turned it clumsily in her hand, hitting the power button, the TV turning off, shrouding them in the semi-darkness of the living room.

“Much better…”

And then she was leaning forward, wanting to kiss him again, and Hyunjae was pulling her closer, chuckling softly against her lips.

#reply #questions #response post #request #answer #the boyz #the boyz fanfic #the boyz fanfiction #the boyz fic #tbz fanfiction #tbz fanfic #tbz fic #tbz #anonymous #tbz smut #smut #hyunjae smut #the boyz hyunjae #boyfriend #relationship #sexy #tbz hyunjae #tbz hyunjae smut

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

I want Manu to fight Afterdark Malleus and just yelling “YOU AREN'T MY FATHER, MY FATHER TREATS MOTHER WITH RESPECT”

18+ Content | Afterdark AU + Birds of a Feather AU | Yandere

tw: yandere, abuse, mentions of non con, dark themes, more

Manu is from the Birds of a Feather and Crow AU

This version of Malleus is from the Afterdark AU

The air was heavy, buzzing with an electric hum that deafened the ears, the tension not easing the situation not one bit. Clouds hung over the dorm, heavy and dark with contempt and unbridled rage, students gone and hidden in their rooms as the royal family affair took place in the common room.

Malleus, tall and dark, his face hardened with annoyance as his eyes locked on a figure of equal stature, lime iris' locked onto his son.

Well, not exactly.

"You bastard. You aren't my father, you never will be, so don't ever claim to be him. You aren't even a grain of the type of man he is." Manu's voice held a sharpness that cut through the Fae Princes heart, venom laced to truly hurt his 'father', though when it come to his mother...

He doesn't care.

"Watch your mouth, Manu. Those are some dangerous words leaving your mouth. Remember who's the child here." Malleus stared down Manu, an almost mirror image, almost. Those sharp features were just a bit softer, his skin wasn't as pale, his hair was thicker and fuller. Small subtle changes that showed that, while he was Malleus' son, he was also yours.

"You should watch your actions, you pathetic excuse of a man. You really think holding my mother down- taking her freedom, her heart, her mind, you think that's love? That's greed. That's selfishness." His chest was heaving, lips pulled back into a snarl, his steps were slow and careful. Stalking his father like a hunter does its prey, and the feeling was mutual, Malleus replicating the action from a few feet across from him.

But he couldn't deny how his heart was thrumming as he looked at Manu, his son, his threat.

Manu did live up to the Draconia name.

"That's pathetic." Manu finished, his gaze catching the watchful eyes of Lilia, no amusement to be seen across his face.

"You know nothing. I am your father, whether you like it or not, so I'm giving you one last chance to back down- boy." Malleus growled, thunder cracked as soon as he spoke, the room lighting up through the heavy drapery- lighting flashing through the deep purples and blacks.

"You want me to back down after knowing all this? After seeing those marks in her skin? Hearing the way she cried herself to sleep after you finished holding her down? The way he flinches as I walk around the corner because, for a split second, she thought I was you?" He chuckled, disbelief evident in his voice, eyes wide and wild with anger.

The feather cloak did nothing to comfort him, only angering him further, a symbol of a truth that felt like a beautiful lie after seeing everything he has. Pupils in nothing a small slit, his ears pinned themselves to the side of his head, head lifted enough so he could look down on... that thing.

"You aren't my father! You'll never be! My father treats mother with respect, with love! With basic fucking decency! You'll never be him! So stop acting like it-!"

"MANU." Malleus roared, his pace was comparable to nothing as he faced his son directly, noses almost touching as he glared- chest heavy with some form of restraint, hands griping at Manu's raised arms.

His presence was heavy, intense, it filled Manu's senses with distain. It was never like this at home. Whenever his father was close, he felt happy, calm, comforted. He felt at peace.

This was different. He only felt a possessive, greedy, and commanding love. An aura that overtook him to the point it left Manu dizzy, his heart racing with a feeling he never thought would fill him as he looked at the monster who wore his father's face.

"What are you gonna do, old man? You gonna hit me? Gonna lock me up until I'm begging for affection? Gonna break me so that I can't have a thought of your own?" Malleus' grip tightened, to the point his hands shook with Manu's arms stuck between his fingers, blood dropping from the indent of his nails into Manu's skin. Lilia cursed as he shouted from behind, trying to anchor Malleus down to some form of sanity, to hold him back from harming his son.

"Go ahead. I can take it." Manu managed to breathe out.

"You old fuck."

#Afterdark AU #Birds of a Feather AU #Manu #queen.writing #tw: non con #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland malleus #twst x reader #twst #twst imagines #twst malleus #twst scenarios #yandere twst #malleus x reader #malleus draconia

[kakashiswilloffire]

Orange Sherbet

ao3 link

tw: suicide attempt, overdose, painkillers, mentions of self harm

words: 3.5k

He was a drain on Gai.

His students didn’t need him—they’d surpass him soon enough.

There were still villagers who called him Friend-Killer Kakashi.

He still saw faces every time he laid down to sleep.

He felt Rin’s blood splash onto his chest every time he used the Chidori.

He couldn’t help Itachi.

He couldn’t help anyone.

Sometimes he understood what must’ve gone through his father’s head.

Sometimes, the corner store doesn’t have orange sherbet.

Kakashi is suicidal and we hope Gai can help.

If there was orange sherbet at the convenience store on the way home, he’d stay alive. They always had pints of ice creams and other frozen treats—it was something he had promised to treat himself to when he felt this way. They had made him write down all these promises during his last few mental health sessions with various Yamanakas, listing three people he could talk to when he felt lonely, three distractions he could use to keep himself sane for a few minutes longer, three reasons to stay alive. When he felt like he couldn’t stand to live another day, he had to summon Pakkun, read Icha Icha, and eat something special and different. Pakkun was still recovering from their last rough battle together. He had read each volume of Icha Icha so many times they risked falling apart upon his next touch. So orange sherbet it was.

He’d never cared much for sweets, of course. But there was something nostalgic about orange sherbet, it wasn’t quite as punch-in-the-face sugary as ice cream, but still gave a slight buzz and coated his tongue. In the back of his mind, he remembered his father—or was it Minato?—buying a pint for each of them and snagging two disposable spoons so they could enjoy them as they walked back from the training grounds. Or was it three pints with Rin and Obito after difficult missions? Something Gai or Tenzou insisted on buying for his birthday one year? Everything blurred in his mind, unable to clearly break each memory apart to see it again.

He pushed open the door, hearing the dull chime of bells as it swung forward to let him into the packed corner shop. He made his way to the freezer without taking in any of the other colors, sights, or smells around him. He remembered his goal. One pint of orange sherbet. Buy one, eat it, and try life again tomorrow.

The freezer door was coated in a light fog, but he was in no hurry to see through it. It was just him and the shopkeep cashing out an older civilian woman. He skimmed his eyes across the rows, looking for the familiar orange carton.

Where was it?

He tried again, looking more carefully at each row, all the way across, then moving down to the next systematically. His heart rate jumped roughly 15 more beats per minute.

They always have it.

He opened the door, searching furiously with his eyes now that there was no frost in his way. He knelt to the ground, checking the bottom rows thoroughly.

It has to be here.

He glanced at the shopkeep, bagging the woman’s groceries as she talked animatedly about something he didn’t care enough to make out. He slid his headband up a couple of inches, barely exposing the crimson eye hidden beneath. With as much chakra as he dared use given his current state, he searched the frozen rack again.

Every flavor of ice cream he could think of, and a least a dozen more he would never consider. And toward the bottom, there was lime, lemon, and raspberry,

No orange sherbet.

He wasn’t sure how long he remained squatted down with the freezer door open, focused on the empty slot where it should be. The shopkeep, now with no other customers, cleared his throat loudly and gestured for Kakashi to shut the door. He blinked twice, then rose, hearing the door seal as he returned to his feet.

“Anything I can help you with?”

Kakashi blinked, again. There was all this noise roaring in his head, and he felt flushed. After a beat too long, he understood what had been asked and shook his head.

“No, ah… Thank you.”

He nodded and quickly ducked out of the store.

That was it. He had to write down three reasons. Reason one was currently out of commission because of him. Reason two had been violently abused so that he had something to do with his hands when he was so full of fire and anxiety that if he wasn’t holding something he’d— well, whatever came easiest or first. Digging his nails into his arms, forming tiny red divots. Scratching until the skin was raw and angry. Slamming fists into his thighs. Step one was always untying his kunai pouch and letting it fall. He’d learned that early on.

Reason number three to stay alive, and the agreement he’d made with himself today, was the convenience of dropping by the store for a small treat. Without that, he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Walking back to his apartment, he thought about the previous weeks. Those promises had all begun the same way, but ended in a different direction. The format was simple: if blank, then I won’t kill myself today. He used to use a similar format: I can’t kill myself until blank. The problem with that was dreaming far enough ahead to find a goal worth the pain, effort, and time, and also, what to do when the goal was met. You can’t kill yourself until you make chunin. You can’t kill yourself until you complete an A rank mission. You can’t kill yourself until you make jonin. You can’t kill yourself until… what? Until I come back from a mission with no casualties? Until I can become close to someone without them dying in front of me? It spiraled too quickly to come back from.

The simpler way to go about it was short-term goals. Can’t kill yourself till after dinner. Then you’ve gotta brush your teeth. Then read a chapter of a book, or two. Then you’re tired, and you can sleep until the alarm wakes you far earlier than the sun would, and you live until you feel like you can’t again. But even that had its downfalls—if you can’t be bothered to brush your teeth tonight, you’ve gotta find something to keep going.

It had been Gai who suggested rephrasing the prompt to its latest version. On a day I challenge you, Rival, you can’t end the passion of youth! The challenges had been almost daily for a couple of months after that, until Gai had left for an extended mission and Kakashi had been thoroughly encouraged to stay a similar amount of time in the Yamanaka’s care. He’d begrudgingly admitted later that both of those developments had helped, and it had been a few years since his last bout with depression like this.

But it had been like this for a few months now, and the clouds fuzzing over his mind didn’t seem to be letting up. So he revisited some old advice. If it doesn’t rain on the way home, he’d stay alive. The sky remained cloudless. If Naruto pulled something stupid during training, he’d stay alive. It only took fifteen minutes before Sakura started yelling at him. If there was orange sherbet in the corner store—But there wasn’t.

Somehow, he made it inside his apartment, not quite recalling the rest of the walk through the dull ache behind his eyes. He slipped his unzipped vest off his shoulders, not noticing it hit the floor. Routine dictated that next was the kunai pouch, then the bandages, then—

He was sitting on the floor and wasn’t sure how he got there. Sitting was a generous term, he supposed, as his legs were fully outstretched and he was propped on one forearm with his head against the wall. His eyes slowly screwed tight as the dull ache sharpened briefly, then the static between his ears picked up in volume. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and gradually got back to his feet, stumbling into the living room.

He slumped across the couch, staring at the ceiling. He remembered the routine, drilling itself into his head. His vest was off, he needed to remove the kunai pouch, then the bandages, then the shoes, and put all of that away before removing the rest of his clothing to take a shower. After that was dinner, then two hours of free time to fill with whatever he was capable of, then bed. Lately the free time had been compromised of staring at the pile of clean laundry on the chair opposite him that had needed to be put away since Wednesday. He knew the routine. He decided to get a jump start on free time anyway.

He began counting all of the socks he could see sticking out of the collection of clothes. Organization and listing had always helped situate his mind and get him back on track. After ten or so minutes, he was finally able to unstrap the kunai pouch, tossing it across the room, taking care to not pay attention where it landed. There had been a week where Kakashi didn’t even carry the bag because Gai had taken it and every sharp object he could find in the apartment under the pretense of helping him hone his taijutsu by not relying on weapons. He had been content to let Gai keep the explanation at that. That might be something to revisit soon.

No. Gai had already done more than enough for him.

Kakashi found himself standing in his small bathroom. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d been in the living room, but he was now free of his bandages and shoes. He shrugged, reaching behind his head to untie his headband. Somehow, it had gotten knotted worse than usual and a section of his hair was caught in it. He yanked viciously at it, breathing in through gritted teeth at the sting then feeling himself relax ever so slightly. Forgoing undoing the knot, he slid it along the trapped segment of hair until the headband came free. That made it on to the counter. That never saw the floor, unlike every other part of his wardrobe had

.Next to the headband on the counter was a scattered collection of varying sizes of orange plastic bottles with thick white caps. The clinical labels all had his name, and the names of various antidepressants and antianxiety medications, as well as several painkillers and muscle relaxants and some antibiotic from the mission a couple years back where everyone returned miserably ill. Most of the bottles were empty, and he had held on to them meaning to get them refilled. He always had good intentions, but there was so many things to do in a day, and he ran out of energy usually three or four items into his list.

The one thing he could always count of having around, though, was some kind of pain relief.

Missions were hard, somehow harder now than ever with him as a jonin leader. He still had teammates, but they relied fully on him to take the brunt of every attack and to protect them at all costs. He couldn’t blame them, of course. They were children. He wanted nothing more than for them to be children and not suffer the same losses he had.

Still, he was sure to return from every mission above a D rank with at least a few nasty bruises. And any time Gai could rope him into a training session, he knew he’d come home needing ice packs and the heating pad and whatever else he could get to be able to train with his team the next morning.

And that was how he found himself glaring into the mirror, the bottle of white tablets shaking in his fist.

He was certainly in pain, that couldn’t be argued.

But how many to take?

No orange sherbet.

He shook his head vigorously again, walking back into the living room and falling onto the couch. He focused on a mark on the ceiling, breathing faster than he understood why while his vision started swimming.

There wasn’t orange sherbet.

He was a drain on Gai.

His students didn’t need him—they’d surpass him soon enough.

There were still villagers who called him Friend-Killer Kakashi,

He still saw faces every time he laid down to sleep.

He felt Rin’s blood splash onto his chest every time he used the Chidori,

Sometimes he understood what must’ve gone through his father’s head.

He couldn’t help Itachi

He couldn’t help anyone,

Sometimes, the corner store doesn’t have orange sherbet.

Sometimes, the little orange bottle that rattles doesn’t rattle any more.

He was in the kitchen, water dripping off his face and hands as he panted over the sink. How did he get here? He swallowed hard, his mouth somehow still dry, and turned the water off. The prescription bottle was laying on the floor. Then so was he. Against the cold tile, he was able to relax just a bit again.

It’d be over soon. He wouldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.

His thoughts became harder to string along, but that didn’t bother him. The thoughts he could connect didn’t sting as much as they usually did. It might be nice to put away that laundry, actually.

Every muscle was heavy. There was so much weight on him, and he couldn’t move. How much time had passed? He thought his heart was starting to race, and wondered if he was having second thoughts. But he couldn’t feel the ground beneath him any longer. He struggled for hours, days, to move his index finger to trace the hem of his shirt over and over. Could he feel it? Was he moving?

He rolled to his side, slowly bringing his knees up to prepare to stand. But his body didn’t move. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He couldn’t? His… It was his body. But? Was he? Could move? …Him?

Several centuries had passed before he heard the key in the door, and the door had already been sealed shut before he understood what the noise was.

“Ka-KASHI! In celebration of your return home from your latest mission, I made sure to grab a treat. Do you remember when you left the ANBU and we went to the corner store together? What a celebration to end all celebrations that day was! I was sure to grab the finest, most youthful of every snack—orange sherbet!”

***

Gai held the thin plastic bag up triumphantly, two pints rolling against each other. Normally he would have also grabbed spoons, but assuming Kakashi would be home, he was sure he could find two spoons somewhere in the apartment, even if he had to wash every dish himself.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to him that Kakashi was on a downswing lately, but he’d always been the counter to balance his own exuberance, and he had complete confidence that they would move past this, too.

He nudged the flak vest that was crumpled on the ground at his feet. Kakashi must’ve been itching to take it off to have removed it the second he got inside. But why wouldn’t he have hung it up, or placed it at least near the hamper? This wasn’t part of the routine. Had he been badly injured on this last mission?

That must be it. He would have come home, shed his clothing, and jumped in the shower to clean his wounds and begin loosening his muscles. Much to Gai’s dismay, Kakashi seemed to be magnetically repelled from hospitals, preferring to treat his wounds himself as long as he could walk. So he must have some sort of torso injury, maybe bruised ribs or a minor stab wound, and he was surely tending to it quietly deeper inside the apartment.

The laundry he had helped Kakashi wash last week was still in the soft, cushioned chair in the dim living room. That wasn’t too surprising, he knew that was the first thing Kakashi would let fall by the wayside if something wasn’t going to get done. As long as the clothes were clean, he could wear them, even if they hadn’t been neatly hung, and that was something Gai could live with.

What he did not appreciate the sight of, however, was the kunai pouch halfway under the end table near the entry way. With such an inconvenient location, Kakashi surely must have made an effort to lose the bag and the knives it contained. He felt his heart swell with pride that Kakashi had the forethought to disregard the bag, but his heart deflated just as quickly with the knowledge that Kakashi felt it necessary to do so.

As he continued into the apartment, he called out his rival’s name once or twice. He must be home. The barrier seals hadn’t been placed over the front door, which means he either was here, or kidnapped from here, and the building still existed, so he must not have been kidnapped. So where was he?

Conscious of the rapidly melting sherbet in his hand, he turned down the hallway to the kitchen to leave the bad in the freezer while he helped Kakashi, presumably in the bedroom, bandage his wounds.

As he rounded the corner, flipping on the lights as he went, he heard a small groan. Nothing at eye level. Cautiously stepping forward, his foot sent a small orange plastic bottle skittering across the tiles.

Gai was barely aware of the sherbet hitting the ground.

Kakashi looked terrible. It was not particularly strange to find him lying on the ground, but there was absolutely no color in his face. Both of his eyes were lazily opened, and neither focused on Gai’s as he kneeled down to check his vitals. His breathing was shallow and his heart rate garbage.

“What did you DO?”

Gai yanked Kakashi up into a sitting position, grabbing for the prescription bottle. Depending on what it said, maybe this wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Maybe he’d been poisoned. Maybe even food poisoning. But the signs of an opiate overdose matched the label printed in cruelly clinical terms and he crushed the plastic in his fist. Kakashi needed to get to a hospital, and he needed to get there immediately.

He gathered his rival in his arms, not noticing his weight nearly as much as he noticed how limp he was, making no effort to not be ragdolled around. As he stood up, he took stock again of Kakashi’s breathing—shallower than a moment ago. After a second’s hesitation, he reached for the edge of his mask and yanked it down under his chin, hoping the direct access of air to his lips and nose might help. His lips had some color in them still, and he looked away, trying to respect the privacy of the man who he would kill as soon as he was saved.

***

Some time in the next twenty-four hours, Kakashi’s eyes opened. When they did, blinded by the light and surrounded by medical whites, he was shocked to find himself actually in heaven. What brought him back to earth was Gai, unceremoniously slapping his shoulder.

“What, my dear, dear rival, were you thinking?” he said, thankfully not as loudly as he could have.

Kakashi was at a loss. There were dozens, hundreds of thoughts racing through his head, but they all seemed password-protected and he didn’t have administrative access. He could barely open his mouth, covered by a thin towel, let alone form an explanation that would have made any sense to Gai.

Instead, he surprised himself by feeling the towel suddenly go cold and cling to his skin.

Gai panicked for a moment at the sight of Kakashi’s tears, then took a deep breath and slid forward to the edge of his chair. He brushed a warm, calloused thumb across his rival’s face.

“I know you’re in pain. I do. I don’t understand it, but I believe that you’re in pain and we’re going to help you get better.” He took a shuddering breath, noting that it was thicker with emotion than he had anticipated. “I don’t know what the future is going to hold for us, but the passion of our youth, and especially of your youth, Kakashi, is not close to over. So, whatever it takes, whatever the Yamanakas advise and whatever you need, we’ll make it happen. I love you, and you’re not going anywhere.”

Kakashi’s eyes widened, and Gai became aware that he had opened his Sharingan at some point to record this moment in his memory. He swallowed, feeling his throat begin to ache.

“I love you.”

Kakashi’s tears began falling in a steady stream, and Gai remained exactly where he was, brushing soft, silver hair off of his rival’s forehead. After a moment, he leaned further forward and pressed his forehead against the space he had just cleared.

In a small, scratchy voice he had not heard from the man laying before him ever in the past, he heard a whisper that nearly broke his heart.

“I love you too.”

#first fic ive written in years #hope its any good #pls let me know what you think #kakagai #kakashi hakate #kakashi x gai #kakashi angst

[limenysnocket]

Special Moves

Summary: Taika struggles to show you how he feels, worried he might freak you out. He's usually quite the charmer and has lots of moves that could easily make you swoon, but he decides to bring out only the special one.

Warnings: Light swearing

A/N: Thank you @olyvoyl for the lovely request. It’s super late for me. I’m super tired, and I have a lot more requests to fill, but I’m still grateful! Hope this is okay. Didn’t really get to much editing this time.

“Lord, are you seriously that nervous about talking to her? I’ve seen you walk up to women and make them swoon faster than ever in bars before. What difference does a movie set make?” Hemsworth yawned while he got his makeup done by another woman. She seemed to be enjoying her job.

“The difference is,” Taika mumbled, “is that she works with me. I can’t just walk right up to her and kiss her like I want to.”

“I bet she’d let you. You’re just too much of a chicken to try.” Hemsworth heckled his work friend while he closed his eyes. His makeup artist had to stifle a laugh. Even she knew about Taika’s crush on his co-director. Everyone on set knew. All except for you. People could mistake you for the most oblivious person on earth sometimes, and you wouldn’t blame them. It was to Taika’s luck that you were such a way. Otherwise, his secret would have been exposed to the one person he was trying to keep it from.

All he wanted to do was just hold you, and kiss you. He wanted to brush your hair out of your face and greet you each morning with a warm, tender kiss and a nice, warm breakfast to fill your belly and keep you energized for the day. God knows he was going to ware you out at the end of the day.

These were the first innocent thoughts he’s had about any woman he’s thought about hitting on in a very long time. Usually, when he thought about getting someone in bed, it wasn’t too bad, since he had learned how to control himself. But, when he thought about doing certain things to you... Oh, he didn’t know. It just felt too wild. He felt like he had to romance his way into your heart before he could even think about deserving you. Even thinking about holding your hand got his face all flushed and he would become bashful.

“Ah, Taika, Taika, Taika. When are you going to man up and tell her? I will, if you don’t want to, but I think that would just be a waste. Heard from some ladies that you have quite the special moves,” Chris wrapped his arm around Taika’s shoulder and mess with a curl on his head. Taika was quick to swat Chris’s hand away and go back to his loathsome pouting.

“My special moves are useless around her,” Taika started mumbling to himself, rubbing at his cheeks, while he stressed.

“What special moves?” a mellow voice quipped through the open, makeup trailer doorway. Taika whirled around, cheeks ablaze.

“Taika’s talking about how he thinks he can beat me in a fight,” Chris grinned, nudging Taika with his elbow. “I told him he didn’t stand a chance. Then he started bringing up fighting techniques and all this weird Japanese fighting styles.” Taika opened his mouth to protest, prepared to stick a finger right in the bigger man’s face, but that’s when you giggled.

“He has a point, Taik,” you grinned. “We’ve both admitted at one point or another that the man is built like a God. He could kick anyone’s ass if he wanted to. I bet you will too, one day, if you keep on training. Might have to level up a few times though, unless your trainer really thinks staying in motion all the time really helps.” You giggle again. You’ve rendered him speechless, and Chris is on the verge of laughing his ass off. 

“How do you... know about...?” Taika asks through a parched throat.

“Your personal trainer posts videos of you all the time. Some of them are kinda funny, Taika. I find them very entertaining,” you give him that big, adorable smile that he can’t get out of his head for half of the day. “Anyway, Hemsworth, they need you on set. Just a quick briefing before we get started for the day. Taika, you should head inside too. You’re the director after all--. Excuse me-- ‘Visionary Director’.” You laugh again, and turn the poor man into a mush. You leave with the makeup artist after that, and leave Taika and Chris alone again.

“I told you once,” Chris hums, rubbing at his chin for a moment while Taika still stares at the door, “and I’ll tell you again. She’s totally into you.” Chris comes out of the camper like a giddy little kid and starts heading towards the main building, where more people started pouring in with their cups of coffee. The sun had finally turned the sky orange with color. Dawn had broken, fucking finally, and Taika was very much awake now. There was only one way to find out if what the damn God of Thunder was saying was true. He had to hold your hand.

The man was on a mission. If he could somehow finesse his way over to you and hold your hand... How did he think this was going to work again?

He kept staring at your hands while you helped get the actors and extras around set and into position. He watched when you talked, how you seemed so confident when you would use your hands while you talked. Did you pick that up off of him, or was that just a perk that came with everything else amazing like you? No, it just had to be something that came with you. He was near certain of it. Maybe his enamored mind got to him.

He stood next to you with every chance he had. He thought about trying to hold your hand. He really did. But, every chance he had slipped away as you got so deep and intense with your directing skills. He felt almost useless. You were so passionate. He wanted to let you do all the work, but his mind would never let him do such a thing.

It was literal fucking days. Chance after chance flew by, and Chris’s teasing and threats to tell you only got worse and more real. He was biting his nails, the tension for him was awful. It wasn’t until he had to dress in his little suit covered in small balls did things started getting much more real for him.

He was standing in the middle of the set, joking with Hemsworth while his Korg mascot bobbled around on his head. People were yelling at him, off to the side, to not be so violent with it. Yeah right. Like he was going to listen to people he didn’t have to listen to.

“Taika, you’re in the wrong spot!” you holler from the side, and get down from your chair. Okay... so maybe he would listen to you.

“Then where am I supposed to be standing?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders. You roll your eyes and start heading towards him. He freezes up. He’ll listen to you from a distance, but when you were up close, he felt like he was about to break down. 

“I’ll forgive you once, since you probably shouldn’t look down unless you want to get yelled at again,” you said, inspecting the large, foam structure on his head. If you thought Taika was frozen then, you should have seen how rigid he was once you had taken his hand into yours. You took him across the lime green floor of the set. Everyone was watching, and had gotten a bit quieter. Hemsworth was giving him a big thumbs up from the side. Taika was flipping the fuck out internally, and Chris was trying to keep Taika cool with awkward hand motions. They obviously weren’t working. Taika was still speechless, and losing his mind at the same time.

You placed him on the X made out of tape on the floor. “There,” you say proudly, putting your hands on your hips when he was finally put in his correct place. You finally look up to his face and see him completely bashful. His hand was still extended out where you had been holding it. “You okay, buddy?” you hum, your oblivious manner making everyone’s day so much better and worse at the same time. They just wanted you two to kiss already.

“I’m fantastic,” Taika whispers through strain. You give him another once over and just shake your head before leaving him again. Chris is gawking at Taika. He feels the urge to leave his spot and practically shove the kiwi into your arms to finally make you realize that you’ve been driving the man crazy for the past month. Ever since he met you and your kind heart.

But no. The day goes on as normal. Well, almost normal. You still don’t notice how much he looks at your hands. He’s even gotten to the point where he wondered how small they would look against his own. He’s driving himself crazy over you. All he wants to do is hold your hand! How hard can that possibly be?

Harder than it looks.

He was in his office, looking through some paperwork after a phone call with a producer who just flew in. He needed to have everything ready for the morning tomorrow. Everyone else had either left for their trailers, or they had all sauntered off to find a pub somewhere.

There had been a lack of powernaps in Taika’s day today, and it left him stupidly tired. He was rubbing his eyes at his desk, and he was fully prepared to fall asleep.

He started to droop. The words on his computer screen turned into blurred lines of unreadable filth. He let his head dangle, but it shot up, as soon as he heard his door handle jiggling. He scooped up papers as fast as he could and he stood up fast. He nearly fell over and he hugged many folders to his chest. “I was just leaving--” And there you were. That bright, oblivious smile on your face. You had come to check in one him... and he was making a fool of himself again.

“I hope this means you’ll get some sleep soon,” you smiled at him, picking up a spry piece of paper that had left his grip by accident. Taika was once again bashful and set his papers down on his desk.

“Hopefully,” Taika murmured to you. You tilted your head to the side while you inspected him.

“I wanted to talk to you about something Hemsworth said to me today, just before he went out with Tessa for a few drinks and bed,” you whisper, and this caught Taika’s attention fast.

“What did he say?” Taika was worried now.

“Well,” you start, your cheeks now gaining quite the color to them. “He said something about you wanting to hold my hand earlier. He said it was your ultimate move.”

Taika sat back on top of his desk. Oh, he was going to kill Chris when he came back. That, or vandalize his trailer beyond recognition. Taika was starting to fume to himself, brewing up a truly nasty scheme to get back at Chris.

He felt your warm hand on his, and he froze up again. Your warm laugh brought him back to life again. “You know, you really scared me with that today! I thought you hated me, at first! If Chris hadn’t said something, I think I may have come in earlier and asked what was wrong myself.” You let go of his hand again and you sit down next to him on his desk. “If you’re really that flustered by holding my hand, it makes me wonder how you’d react if I were to kiss your cheek.”

“I believe I’ll keel over and die,” Taika put simply, a smile on his face, but still a very bashful one at that. It makes you laugh again, and you set your hand on top of his. Now, you are all the more eager to try. You lean over and breathe along his cheek. He nearly jumps right out of his skin at the feeling.

“You’re so fidgety,” you murmur right in his ear. He’s melting again. Before he can make a puddle on the desk, you press your lips against his stubbled cheek. And there he goes. Still as a statue. “But I think it’s cute.”

You slowly got up, grinning. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?” you turn to him, still smiling so bright. His smile got wider on its own.

…

FINALLY!!!!!!

#Taika Waititi #taika waititi imagines #taika waititi x reader #i love you Taika #fluffy #soft boi hours #god i'm so fucking tired

[scuttling]

Bully

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,249 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Supportive Aaron Summary: A case in Chicago means the team is introduced to someone from Sophie's past. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Alright, we’ve got a case in Chicago,” JJ says as they gather in the briefing room on a Wednesday morning. “The detective there is… how do I put this? He’s a real asshole, but they need our help, so just prepare yourselves for one of those.” She passes out the case file, and Cortes tenses beside Hotch, a shift in demeanor he can almost feel, though they are sitting a foot apart.

“Please tell me, just to ease my mind, JJ—it’s not the 54th precinct, right?” She looks up with a grimace, and JJ nods.

“Sounds like you know the guy. Detective Jeffrey?”

“Fuck. Yes, I know him.” She puts an elbow on the table, leans her forehead into her hand, sighs. “He’s like the anti-Hotch: cruel, impulsive, hotheaded, blames his failures on his coworkers. This guy is going to give us grief the whole way, especially if I’m there.”

“Is there a reason for him to be aggressive toward you? Did you pass him up for promotions, accolades?” he asks, and she looks up at him, frowns.

“He’s a misogynist, and a racist, for starters. Wanted a spot on the tactical response team and didn’t get it because he can’t take orders, which had nothing to do with me, but you know how narcissists project.”

“Nothing is actually ever their fault,” Reid says, filling in the blanks.

“Exactly. I was the most convenient target for his anger. So, of course I want to do my part, I’m just letting you know there’s a lot of hostility there so you aren’t blindsided.” The team seems collectively a little more tense—no one messes with one of their own—and Hotch nods thoughtfully.

“You’re with me while we’re there, then. If he wants to give you a hard time, we won’t make it easy.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She exhales, turns back to the case file, and JJ continues with the briefing.

He takes her aside once they’re on the jet.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asks, standing by the open seat next to hers, and she gestures to it.

“Sure. Is it about what I said earlier, about Jeffrey?”

“Yes and no. I trust your judgement; if this guy is going to be a pain in our ass, I want to have a game plan going in so things move as smoothly as possible.” She closes the folder in her lap, nods, gives him her full attention. “First and foremost, you can not let him get to you.” She leans back against the window, sighs.

“I know. It’s just hard, like going back to high school and facing your old bully.”

“I get it. From what you’ve told me, this guy is going to have all of us on edge, but you know the precinct, the area, some of the officers; the team is going to look to you a lot while we’re here. You need to be firm, authoritative, but not antagonistic. Most importantly, you need to be confident. Don’t second guess yourself because of this jerk we’re dealing with.”

“I know that giving in and getting mad is what he wants, so I’m going to try my damndest not to give it to him.” She laughs a little, like it’s easier said than done, and he maintains eye contact, wills her to see how much he really does trust her with this. “I really appreciate this, Hotch.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“I know. But you show your faith when it really matters, and not everyone in your position does that. You should know how much it means to us.” Her words warm his heart, and not just because it’s her who’s saying them. He knows he comes off like a drill sergeant sometimes, but it’s all for good reason. He just wants to take care of his team, keep them safe.

“Thank you. The job is tough; I try to support you guys anyway I can.”

“It shows. Thanks for having my back,” she says softly, tilting her head, and then she sighs and smiles, sits up in her seat. He’s known her long enough to be able to tell when things are getting a little too heavy for her, knows she’s looking for lightness, now. “If we have time for drinks after this case, we have to go to Tito’s, just putting it out there.” Morgan hears her, leans over from his seat across the aisle.

“Tito’s! I haven’t been there in years.”

“Neither have I. They have the best portobello tacos in Chicago. Drowning in chimichurri,” she says to Hotch, and he smiles a little at her excitement. “Give me a Corona and lime and a plate of tacos and I’ll forget all about Douglas fucking Jeffrey.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” he says, and he spends the rest of the trip sitting between the two of them as they reminisce about their favorite things about Chicago.

He actually really enjoys it.

When they arrive at the precinct, she is decidedly less jovial, and Hotch immediately understands why, when he introduces himself to Detective Jeffrey.

“Cortes, good to see you again,” he greets, while his expression tells a different story entirely. “Are you his... assistant?” He pretends to be confused, and JJ bristles beside them at the implication, but Sophie remains impassive, doesn’t even look tense. It’s possible his pep talk had more impact than he thought.

“She is no one’s assistant, she’s a supervisory special agent with the FBI just like me, and she will be taking point on this case. I expect you to defer to her expertise,” Hotch informs him with no room for misunderstanding in his tone. Again, if she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it, just continues reading over the case file provided.

“No offense, but this is a serial killer we’re talking about. It’s worlds away from chatting up a meth addict CI in a McDonald's parking lot.” She does close the file at that, and it appears to him that she can handle personal insults just fine, but that jabs at her work are where she gets defensive.

“You wouldn’t have closed half of your cases if it weren’t for my CIs, and you know it. But I’m not in Intelligence anymore, I’m a profiler, and I’m good at what I do.” She crosses her arms, exhales, and turns away from him, a clear dismissal. “Hotch, Prentiss, and I will go to the crime scene. Reid and Gideon will meet with the second victim’s wife, Morgan and JJ will work victimology, and we’ll reconvene here.”

“You got it, boss,” Morgan says, taking a seat, and in times like these he is really proud of his team. He knows as well as Sophie what it means to show Jeffrey that an alpha male like Morgan will take her orders, and Morgan took them and ran. He hides a smile.

They are unfortunately stuck with the detective when they are rerouted to a new crime scene as another body is found, but Hotch isn't worried. It will be a great place for her to show him what she can do.

“What do we know about the victim so far?” Sophie asks Jeffrey, her posture open.

“Sheila Lapinski, 27, hooker.” Prentiss rolls her eyes behind his back. “No one has reported her missing, no next of kin anywhere we can find. Coroner puts her time of death between 3 and 5 AM.”

“Does she have a record?”

“Osele’s pulling it now,” he says with a sigh, and she stops scanning the scene, looks to him with a cocked brow.

“Then how do you know she’s a prostitute?” He chuckles, puts out his hands like the answer is obvious.

“You know where we are. They’re like fleas around here, infesting, multiplying.” Cortes crouches down and lifts the sheet covering the victim, who is wearing a cardigan, pencil skirt, and flat shoes.

“She dressed like a prostitute to either of you?” she asks, looking up at Hotch and Prentiss, and he shakes his head, though he’s not sure why he’s surprised; the detective may actually be worse than she described him. Prentiss bends down, looks like she’s trying not to smile.

“No. She looks more like a school teacher, actually.”

“I’m telling you, they call this—pardon my French—” Sophie stands, crossing her arms, and cuts Jeffrey off.

“Pussy Alley. I know what guys like you call it. But you have no evidence this woman is a sex worker, and if she’s not, it’s extremely important that we find out how and why she was dumped here.” An older, bearded detective walks up to them, notebook open, and he smiles at her.

“Hey, Cortes. Nice to see you again, though not under the circumstances.”

“You too, Osele; these are Agents Hotchner and Prentiss. I worked with Osele in Intelligence way back when.” They all shake hands, and she nods to his notebook. “You have her record?"

“Yep, she’s squeaky clean. Not so much as a parking ticket.” Sophie shares a look with the both of them, and Jeffrey splutters.

“That’s—that’s not possible.”

“I think you’ll find that plenty is possible when you open your eyes, Detective,” Hotch can’t resist replying. Cortes crouches down again.

“There are no signs of a struggle. The bottoms of her shoes aren’t worn. Her clothes are clean, not cheap; hair done recently, not cheap.” Jeffrey puts his hands on his hips, all but rolls his eyes.

“Ah, there’s some hard hitting detective work.”

“You’re not even attempting to prove your theory that she’s a prostitute, so we’re disproving it for you,” Prentiss explains, pulling out her phone. “Easily. Garcia,” she begins, and she steps away from them to talk to the tech.

“What else do you see?” Hotch asks softly, meeting her on her level. “Anything that indicates occupation?” Her eyes are focused as she scans the victim, lifts her hand to examine her nails, her lip to examine her teeth.

“She has ink smudges on her hands, so she could be a teacher, but she could also be a receptionist, writer, accountant, secretary, bank teller… any type of administrative professional. She’s got a fresh manicure, teeth are in good health, so I’d bet she’s got insurance or has had it recently. No wedding ring, she’s too old to be on her parents’, so all signs point to a steady job.”

“Okay, there is no god damn way you can tell if she’s got health insurance just by looking at her.” She stands, and Hotch follows, covering the body with the sheet.

“No, you’re right, I can’t. It’s an educated guess based on analysis and not snap judgement. Do you have any insight into this case, aside from the fact that you think she’s a sex worker because of where she was found?”

“There’s not much to go on. Sometimes these cases go unsolved.” It’s then that Prentiss returns to them, and this time she is smiling.

“I had Garcia run our victim’s info, and it doesn’t look like she’s currently employed—no recent bank deposits, appears to be living off of her savings.”

“So not a teacher after all,” Jeffrey states, looking smug, and Hotch waits patiently, because he knows there’s more.

“Not right now, but she just moved to the area from a suburb called Evanston, and she was a third grade teacher there for two years. Private school, really nice place. Great insurance.” Sophie looks at her like something she said clicked, and she pulls out her phone.

“The ink on the heel of her hand could be from a newspaper; maybe she’s job hunting.”

“Wasn’t our first guy unemployed?” Prentiss recalls. “We should have Gideon and Reid ask his wife if he’s been job hunting. Could be a connection.”

“I’ll call Reid.” The fact that the victims were job hunting is what breaks the case. They work late into the evening, but they’re actually able to find the unsub—a man posing as a prospective employer only to people who are new to the area—relatively quickly once they put it all together.

The officers who remember Sophie from her time in Chicago are all clearly impressed with her and the team, and it makes him very, very proud.

Jeffrey clearly hates how quickly they solved the case, and he enjoys that, too.

That night, they do make it to Tito’s for drinks and Mexican food, and the team goes around the table and talks about their ‘Jeffreys’ in honor of Sophie showing up hers.

Morgan buys them all a round of Coronas in her honor as well, and later, Sophie offers to buy another; Hotch heads up the bar to help her carry.

“Since we’re here another night, is there anyone you’re going to try to see? Catch up with?” he asks while they wait for a few of the drinks. She smiles softly, tucks a hand under her chin thoughtfully.

“No, there’s nothing for me here anymore. Coming back, facing Jeffrey, was my last battle to fight, and you made that possible, so thank you.”

“It was my pleasure to see him knocked down a peg… and to watch you shine.” She reaches out, covers his hand with her own, which he did not expect, and nods back to the table with the rest of their coworkers, their friends.

“Come on. We’re going to have to rein them in soon. I could use a little back up.”

“Any time."

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