#we are poor blind and naked let him dress you in white

[wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever]

Up to this present hour we are both hungry and thirsty, and are poorly clothed and roughly treated and homeless; and we labor, working with our own hands; when we are verbally abused, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure it; when we are slandered, we reply as friends; we have become as the scum of the world, the dregs of all things, even until now.

#1 corinthians 4:11-13 #the way the truth and the life #we are poor blind and naked let him dress you in white

[mythicamagic]

May I have one for "just wait for me here." "It's not like I can go anywhere." please.

Sesshoumaru arched a brow, staring across the sunlit glade towards a peculiar sight. His brother’s miko was acting strangely. She stood, clutching her bow tight- knuckles turning pale from the force of her grip. She tentatively used one end to feel around the grass, before prodding the ground with her shoe and inching forward.

Although they shared the same clearing, Kagome didn’t look up, nor acknowledge his presence.

Sesshoumaru gave in to curiosity, not particularly concerned about an enemy but too intrigued to ignore this display. She jerked when his boot crunched on a twig.

“Stay back!” Kagome snarled, voice shaking as she whipped her bow up defensively.

Sesshoumaru bit back a chuckle. What good would a mere bow do as a weapon without arrows? His humour soon abated however, staring into her murky blue eyes that gazed just over his shoulder.

Ah, I understand.

“W-who’s there?” she stammered, fear clouding her scent.

Inuyasha and her friends were clearly absent, always so foolish. They’d left a blinded miko vulnerable and alone?

Sesshoumaru gave the quivering woman a once over, noticing a few scrapes over her bare knees. Cut rope looped around her freed wrists. That strange white and green clothing she always wore was marred with dirt, torn in various places. She’d likely been kidnapped and escaped her captor on her own. Mildly impressive.

Still, she was nothing to do with him. Sesshoumaru turned on one heel.

“S-sesshoumaru?” Kagome called out tentatively. The words became firmer, more confident. “Sesshoumaru...wait. Please.”

The Daiyoukai paused, looking at her sightless blue eyes. “How is it that you knew who I was?”

She released a short, hard breath, clearly relieved to be speaking with someone. “I’m getting better at sensing stuff, I guess.”

“Hn,” he frowned, “and your eyes?”

Kagome touched her cheek, curling in on herself a little, “a demon blew a powder into my face and it blinded me. He kidnapped me...but I managed to get away. I just hope its temporary, ya know?” she gave a nervous giggle, despair threatening to take her under. Sesshoumaru hummed, attention drawing away to the forest surrounding them. He knew these woods well, and there was nothing around for miles. No villages nor clans. Just wild flatlands that eventually led to the mountains. She’d certainly ran a long way.

“I know we’re not friends- or even allies,” Kagome mumbled. “You’ve got no reason to help me-”

“That is correct,” he silkily agreed.

Her pretty features tightened with barely concealed frustration, amusing him. “But I’d owe you, hugely, if you just drop me off where Inuyasha can find me. I promise I’d return the favour- tenfold!”

Sesshoumaru chuckled, rather liking his position in this situation, studying his immaculate nailbeds in an unnecessary show of disinterest. “There is nothing a human could give to me that would be worth my time- nor do I need a favour.”

Blowing out a frustrated hiss of air through her teeth, Kagome stepped forward, gazing in his general direction. “So you’re going to just leave me here?”

“As previously established, miko,” he purred in a low tone. “We are not friends nor allies. Are we lovers?” he teased.

She instantly turned red, barking; “in your dreams!”

“Well then, if we are not friends, allies nor lovers, I have no need to heed your cries above those of the ants I crush beneath my feet when I walk,” Sesshoumaru turned away again, heading in the opposite direction.

“Wait!”

The desperate crunch of feet thundering through tall grass reached his ears, though the demon lord kept pace. Something knocked into his side- and Kagome stumbled, before latching tight onto mokomoko, wrapping her arms around his furs and hugging them to her chest.

Golden eyes widened at her audacity, pressing a palm against her forehead, trying to extract her from his person. “Off.”

“No way!” she twisted and tried to bite at his hand, narrowing sightless eyes. “Don’t be so heartless. At the very least, leave me at the nearest village- jerk!”

“You are doing a poor job of endearing yourself to me, wench,” Sesshoumaru lifted his hand, resting sharp claws against her damp forehead, slick with sweat. He prodded warningly. “Release this one.”

Kagome shuddered but refused to let go. “I-if I do, I’m as good as dead anyway,” she murmured, tightening her grip. “Please.”

Sesshoumaru flirted with the idea of releasing acid from his nails and reducing the nuisance into a pile of melted flesh and bone. However, even while blind- those blue eyes managed to fill him with a strange sense of intrigue. If this woman died, he ludicrously felt that the fates would turn their wrath upon him, not that he heeded the threat of any higher powers. She was so unusual in appearance, word and deed he could not help but think her a special existence, but even were she ordinary, Sesshoumaru felt his world would become less amusing without her presence in it. Encounters with Inuyasha would prove somewhat blander.

Sneering, his claws lowered. Continuing to walk with no acknowledgement of her trailing form hurrying after him, Sesshoumaru allowed her to hang onto mokomoko like it were a lifeline.

----

Kagome focused on keeping her footing, stumbling after the silent Daiyoukai. His furs pillowed her cheek, comfortable and silky. From what she could tell they’d left the wilder grass behind, her muddy loafers crunching on twigs and dry earth.

They didn’t talk often and she didn’t give voice to her exhaustion, closing her eyes after a while since it did little good to keep them open, her world endlessly black.

She tried not to fall prey to the dark feelings of dread and worry threatening to claim her, lingering on the outskirts of her tired mind. She’d come too far to give up now.

Kagome bumped into something solid and stopped. “What is it?” she mumbled.

“I am going to rest for the night.”

“Oh…”

His voice sounded a little light, which meant he found something entertaining. “I take it you are going to cling to me throughout?”

“Y-yeah, can’t have you running off on me.”

“Hn, if that is the case, measures will need to be taken.”

Kagome wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Nonetheless, she faithfully followed when he walked on, having little choice in the matter.

Warm, stuffy vapour began caressing her skin, rendering it slightly damp, her hair curling from the humidity. It began closing in around her like a shroud, the air thinning a little. Lapping water reached her keen hearing.

“Hot springs?”

“Indeed.”

Mild alarm raced through her bloodstream. Kagome squeaked- feeling herself being lifted up, a single hand grabbing her by the scruff and yanking so hard mokomoko was successfully pried from her grip, sending her flying through the air. Kagome cried out when water rushed up to meet her, warm and lulling, closing over her head. She quickly found her footing on the bottom of the pool and pushed up, sputtering as she broke the surface.

“You jerk! What the hell?!”

Sesshoumaru answered with a lofty chuckle. “You cannot expect to sleep near me while wearing such dirty clothes.”

“Throwing me into a hot spring isn’t the answer though!” she growled, splashing the water in his general direction, though she had no idea if it made contact or not.

“Hm? Would you have preferred being stripped bare to shudder against me all night long?” he suggested offhandedly.

“Of course not,” Kagome gritted out.

“Then I suggest you start bathing yourself, miko.”

Hesitating, Kagome wrestled with herself. The sound of his boots stepping over rocks and drawing further away loosened her tongue.

"J-just don't abandon me here, okay?"

He halted. "And what will you do if I decline to listen?"

"I'll haunt your ass once I'm dead."

"Hn."

He continued on, his answer not exactly assuaging Kagome's fears. With little else to do but tentatively trust him, she stripped out of her uniform and bathed as best she could. Without the use of soap or a sponge and being unable to see the dirt being washed away, it would likely be an unsuccessful bath. She tried her best to make herself 'clean', scrubbing at her uniform for good measure.

The silence was heavy, only broken by the sound of gently lapping water. She had no idea what time it was. How far away Inuyasha and her friends were. Kagome shivered, hugging her arms to her chest. She began to feel paranoid, suspecting the slightest sound. Dark youkai reached out, brushing her senses.

Kagome exhaled in relief, hanging onto Sesshoumaru’s aura.

“Step out of the water.”

She stiffened at the abrupt sound of his commanding voice. “And let you see me naked? No thank you.��

“There is no point in assuring you that I will not- since you cannot see if I am being truthful. I can merely promise that my curiosity about the human form will never be acted upon.”

Kagome flushed red. So he could look He just disliked humans too much to ever be ‘interested.’

She reluctantly supposed she had little choice in the matter. Standing, Kagome waded through the hot waters towards his voice, reaching out to feel for the side in order to climb out- only for her hand to be ensnared, captured by lithe fingers.

Kagome’s hazy eyes widened, climbing out with the aid of his grip, quickly covering herself with both arms as soon as she were able. “M-my clothes are wet…”

Something wrapped around her body, and she recognised the material to be a short towel. Quickly drying herself, Kagome paused when new, silky material nudged against her cheek. “Dress in this once you are done,” Sesshoumaru’s low voice rumbled.

Since she could sense his strong, dark presence linger close, she wondered if he were watching out for enemies or just plain watching her. Kagome fumbled with the silks, feeling around for the collar. Sesshoumaru’s rumbling chuckle made goosebumps race over her bare skin. She nearly bit out a comment- feeling hot breath fan over her forehead. His single arm nudged at hers, guiding her hand through a sleeve, before holding the parting open, allowing her to slip it on. Kagome blushed wildly, groping for the obi and hurriedly tying it at her waist.

A cool hand stilled hers once she was done, cutting into the rough rope still bound around her freed wrists. Kagome murmured her thanks.

“Where did you get the yukata?” she mumbled.

Mokomoko bumped her chest and Kagome held onto it reflexively as Sesshoumaru strolled away, the furs guiding her forwards. “I have many bases littered around the countryside, should I need to make use of them for trysts or shelter.”

“T-trysts?” she squeaked. “Is this clothing from...?”

“Do not worry, foolish one. That is an unused article of clothing. I keep them in case my lovers are in need of a spare change of clothes. I have been known to be...impatient.”

She arched a brow and used her free hand to measure the length of her sleeves, touching the seams. “This is a man’s yukata.”

“What of it?”

Kagome clicked. “Oh, nothing. I just didn’t know you were interested in guys.”

Sesshoumaru gave a tired, long-suffering sigh while wafting steam pulled away from their bodies, leaving them exposed to the cool air while they walked through what Kagome assumed to be a sparse forest. “Provided an individual captures my interest, gender has no bearing on who I share a bed with. It is inconsequential to me, unlike humans with your...limited choices.”

“Hey! Humans can swing both ways too. A-and look who’s talking! You’re getting all high and mighty about gender but species and blood purity matter a great deal to you. Sounds limiting to me.”

He became silent for a moment, which made Kagome feel slightly victorious. “Admittedly I have never lain with a human before,” he pretended to sound considering. “Are you volunteering yourself, miko?”

“As if,” she snorted, cheeks burning red. “You’ve tried to kill Inuyasha,” she quickly supplied as a valid excuse.

“Hn,” he gave an entertained noise, “so if we were not enemies, you would accept?”

Her mouth grew dry, feeling like she’d held her face over a flickering fire. “You’re way too arrogant to be my type.”

The sound of his quiet chuckle changed as they seemed to step into an enclosed space. Kagome reached out and touched a rocky surface, dragging her palm over it. The remnants of a demonic barrier littered the area. She suddenly stopped, yanking mokomoko and forcing Sesshoumaru to stop with her. “Have you just taken me into one of your trysting spots?"

“Where else are we to rest?”

“Not here!” she burst.

“You complain often, miko. I will leave you to the hungry animals outside if need be," he sneered. "Do not worry. This place has not seen use in a long time and is clean, I assure you,” his tone lulled into a patronising one.

Kagome held her tongue, uncomfortably settling down onto a silky bed of furs when he guided her over to it. She felt extremely weird. Staying in a place where Sesshoumaru had once had sex wasn’t exactly how she’d envisioned her Thursday going.

Something smooth and pronged was placed into her hand- and she gentled a little, quietly thanking him. Beginning to brush her wet hair, Kagome carded her fingers through the strands, making a soft noise of enjoyment.

All the while, she felt the keen sensation of being watched. Arranging herself into a more comfortable position on the bed, she sighed, gazing in his general direction. “I might be blind right now but I can feel your eyes on me. What’s up?”

“Up?”

“I mean- is something bothering you?”

“No,” he sounded briefly considering. “Rather...this one noticed your ears.”

“Hm? The fact that they’re round compared to yours?”

His thumb and forefinger closed around the sterling silver stud pierced through her earlobe. Kagome stiffened, soon relaxing. “Oh, my earrings? They’re not a big deal.”

“They are different from what I have seen before,” he stroked the shell of her ear consideringly, making her shiver. "I wish to test something.”

Since the demon lord had been magnanimous enough to offer shelter, provide new clothing and allow her to tag along with him, Kagome decided to indulge his curiosity. She sensed him move and root through something nearby, a box, she assumed.

I wish I could look around, her lips pursed, exceptionally interested in what one of his hideaways looked like.

“Remove the earrings.”

Nodding, Kagome fiddled with them, taking them out and rubbing her ears slightly. Removing them always felt weird. An inquisitive claw brushed her ear, and Kagome swallowed, holding still with mild confusion as Sesshoumaru donned her with new earrings. When he pulled away, Kagome brushed her fingers over them, finding some sort of stone dangling from her ears. They were cool to the touch and weren’t too heavy, a nice weight.

“What kind of stone are they?”

“Never you mind,” he rumbled, something tickling her brow. She wondered if it were his bangs sliding forward. Soft breath fanned over her nose before it pulled away. “Merely wear those for the duration of your stay. They suit you.”

Kagome tilted her head slightly, “well...okay? They’re not a keepsake from an old flame, are they?”

“No. Those are mine.”

She hummed, touching them again. “You can keep my earrings if you like. They can be my way of saying thanks. They kinda look like diamonds so maybe they’re to your expensive tastes.”

Even though they’re fakes.

Sesshoumaru made a rumbling noise that she assumed was positive, and wondered if they had been his true aim all along. She figured that would be all for the night- before feeling a touch against her hair. Kagome paused, fighting an exasperated smile. Who knew Sesshoumaru could be kind of… cute?

"Anything else?"

"Hn, your hair would suit this kanzashi. Hold still."

Kagome got the feeling their dress-up session was going to take a while.

---

When she awoke, the permanent darkness made it difficult to know exactly what time it was. Only the birds chirping in the trees outside let her know dawn had broken. The heat at her back that had warmed her throughout the night was gone. Kagome sat up, touching her bed hair and refusing to examine what the warmth had belonged to.

"Sesshoumaru?" she rasped.

She heard him shift and stand within the cave, "I sense something nearby. Wait for me here."

"It's not like I can go anywhere," she quipped, smiling slightly.

He made a noise of acknowledgement, walking away. His footsteps became softer until they disappeared completely. Kagome felt unnerved by it.

She reached out with her aura, but this time there was no assurance from his dark youki. Kagome steadied her breathing, trying not to freak out.

Strangely, the darkness was giving way to something. Murky shapes. Browns, whites and buttery yellows. Kagome’s heart burst with gladness.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. “It wasn’t permanent...thank God.”

She could see! Well, kind of. Colours were back though, and shapes were sure to follow.

A commotion was happening outside though. Distant cries could be heard, along with familiar shouting. Kagome stumbled to her feet, following the light source out into the open despite the lack of solid objects yet.

Inuyasha’s loud voice broadcasted his location, making him easy to find- a bold red blur to Kagome’s eyes. Other colours were nearby, purples, blacks, pinks, yellows, oranges and greens.

“Guys!” she breathed.

The murky shapes turned, sharpening slightly into hazy focus. She registered Inuyasha’s horrified features. “K-Kagome...what the hell?”

She blinked and frowned, wondering what his problem was. The Hanyou rounded on a white shape that had sprinkles of red mixed in. “Hey, bastard! Why the fuck is Kagome dressed up like that? W-why does she reek of you!”

Looking down towards a nearby puddle, Kagome crouched and squinted, curious about what Inuyasha was babbling about. Her face came into focus, and her lips parted in surprise.

It wasn’t just one kanzashi, a few were nestled into her fall of curling wild hair. They glittered in the morning light. Some made of ivory, the others were black and adorned with gems. The blue of her eyes linked beautifully with the sapphires hanging from her ears. Everything paired well with the yukata he’d given her, which was white with illustrated ocean waves and smoky clouds patterning its hem and sleeves.

After enduring kidnapping- stumbling about blind for many hours, falling into ditches and streams and not knowing if she would live or die- Kagome couldn’t help but appreciate being swathed in finery. It made it feel a bit...pampered. Happy.

“Kagome, are you alright?”

She raised her head to find Sango and the others drawing closer, Inuyasha was still engaged with a verbal sparring match with Sesshoumaru that would likely head south soon.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, Shippo’s cute face appeared near hers, clear as day.

“We were worried!” he exclaimed. “We couldn’t find you anywhere after Inuyasha caught up with that demon goat and killed him.”

Nice to know my kidnapper is dead, she thought dryly, murmuring an assurance to Shippo but soon standing. She hurried closer to Inuyasha just as he took out Tetsusaiga.

“Hey- stop,” she called firmly, grasping his trailing sleeve. “That’s enough. Sesshoumaru took care of me last night, that’s all.”

“Took care of you?” Inuyasha paled, ears pinning back.

Kagome turned red. “W-what? What’s weird about that? Nothing happened!”

“Then why are you dressed like- like...that!”

Sesshoumaru gave a velvety chuckle from where he stood further away, tilting his chin up and curling his lips with an air of disdain. “I amused myself with your miko, Inuyasha, that is all,” he sneered. “She struggled so sweetly beneath me when I forced the clothes on her.”

“Bastard!” Inuyasha snarled, confused when Kagome stepped in between them. She glared first at the Hanyou, “Quit it- both of you! You’re acting like children!”

Turning her dimmed sights on Sesshoumaru, she struggled to see him clearly since he stood further away. “I don’t know what you seek to gain from lying but...thank you for all that you’ve done up till now,” she murmured. “My offer still stands if you need a favour.”

Inuyasha blustered behind her, shouting up a storm. Kagome muttered a ‘Sit’ to get him to quiet, straining to hear Sesshoumaru’s reply.

To her surprise, with Inuyasha briefly incapacitated, Sesshoumaru drew closer. The sweep of his brows, regal nose and cupid’s bow of his lips caught her dazed attention- her breath halting. Familiar diamond style studded earrings adorned his ears.

“These will do nicely as payment, miko,” he rumbled.

Kagome blinked and slowly smiled, sharing a quiet moment with him. “I-I suppose you’ll want these back,” she murmured, closing her hands around the sapphires on her ears.

“I have plenty more.”

“Right, of course you do,” she giggled, hearing Inuyasha squeak out a ‘did you just giggle at Sesshoumaru?!’ from his crater.

“Hn, as I said, they suit you,” Sesshoumaru turned. “And miko?”

“Yes?”

He began walking away, but she could hear the smile in his voice without seeing his expression. “You have captured my interest.”

Kagome’s eyes widened, heart bursting into overdrive. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies, and she felt a mix of confusion and anticipation.

Ditto, she thought with a faint smile.

#sesskag #sesshoumaru #inuyasha #sesshoumaru x kagome #sesskag fanfiction #kagome higurashi

[cherienymphe]

At Your Service (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, DUB-CON, AGE GAP, escort!Reader, jealous!Peter, loss of virginity (m.), mentions of Tony x reader, basically porn with a plot

!!! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !!!

➥ { page breaks done by @writeyourmindaway​ }

summary: with Tony Stark being a regular of yours, you’re surprised to find that it’s not him you’ll be servicing, but instead the boyish brunette at his side. Tony wants you to make Peter’s 21st birthday special, and you do just that, but what is just a job to you quickly becomes more for Peter.

~

The bass of the music was cut off entirely as he closed the door, and you took the time to gaze around the spacious studio. It was dark and neat, the far wall made up entirely of windows giving it a modern look, but there was an air of boyish quality to it that made your lips quirk upwards just a tad. The boy -young man, you corrected- was younger than you, but that made him no less handsome, and seeing as he was clearly a good friend of Tony’s, Tony wanted to give him the best.

That was where you came in.

“Shit-! I…I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to ask did you want anything to drink?” he stuttered out, rubbing his hands on his dark slacks.

His nervousness was evident, and you bit back an amused smile as he fought to hold your much more confident gaze.

“No, thank you, but maybe you do…?” you said, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow.

He paused at your light tease before letting out a soft laugh.

“Yeah? Maybe I do,” he agreed, stumbling to the fridge on the other side of the room.

It was clear he was overwhelmed with the options before him, and you got the impression that his impressive stock was not his doing. Your heels clicked along his wood floor as you approached, and you pointed at a red wine.

“I personally like that one,” you told him.

He threw you a sheepish ‘thanks’ before choosing it and setting to work on getting it open. You watched as he poured himself a glass, quickly downing it in one go. You spoke when he started to pour another, hands shaky, and you worried he’d ruin his white button down.

“You know…we don’t have to do anything,” you told him.

His dark eyes snapped to yours, glass halfway to his mouth. He blinked, slowly lowering it to the counter as he gazed at you, relief swimming along his features.

“We don’t?” he breathed, shoulders lowering.

You chuckled, unable to help yourself as you shook your head, pressing your hands onto the counter.

“We don’t. Tony already paid me for the whole night, so honestly…? We could just…talk. I mean…I don’t know anything about you.”

You suddenly blinked, brows furrowing.

“I don’t even know your name,” you said, more to yourself than him.

When you showed up here, all you knew was that Tony had hired you for the night, and seeing as he was a regular of yours, you had been surprised that he would not be your client. He had pointed to the nervous looking young man on the other side of the room and told you that you would be showing the kid a good time, make his night.

“Make him as happy as you make me,” Tony had said.

The rest of the attendees, most of them familiar faces and the rest you assumed were coworkers not on the team, were none the wiser as you had approached the brunette, telling him to lead the way. They’d been too preoccupied with each other or their drink as he walked you up the stairs, but Tony had been ever watchful, heat rising to the unnamed man’s face as the older one saluted him with a drink.

“Peter,” the dark-haired man informed you, and you smiled.

You stuck your hand out, and he hesitantly took it. His hands weren’t as soft as you expected, surprising you.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Y/N,” you told him.

You watched as he repeated the name to himself, and you turned away to walk around the space. The party, or whatever it was, was still going on downstairs, but the upstairs was a studio style loft apartment. You walked past the couch and approached the windows. You could hear Peter behind you, his steps soft.

“Why do I get the feeling I waltzed into a birthday party?” you suddenly wondered, and Peter chuckled.

“You kinda did. I turn 21 today…”

You spun to face him, a bit stunned, but you eventually threw him a blinding smile. You suspected that he was younger than you, but you would have never guessed by that much.

“Well, happy birthday, Peter.”

He blinked, shaking himself out of whatever stupor he seemed to be in before thanking you. He suddenly swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed you.

“You can take off your shoes if you want. You know…get comfortable…”

You smiled to yourself at the nervous look on his face, and you finally decided to comment on it as you stepped out of your heels. You noticed the way his eyes lit up as he took in your true height.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Peter. What, never spent a night with someone like me before?” you lightly teased.

He didn’t join in as you chuckled, and he suddenly looked embarrassed. You soon found out why.

“I’ve…I’ve never spent the night with anyone…before,” his voice was quiet by the time he finished talking, and your eyes widened.

You looked him over, stunned once again, before blinking. Now things were starting to make a lot more sense, and you wondered what it was with men and rights of passages. Surely, Tony wanted this young man to share his first sexual experience with someone he cared about and not some stranger who is literally getting paid to do it?

“Oh,” you said in surprise, suddenly feeling guilty. “…and here I am teasing you about how nervous-.”

“No, please don’t feel bad! Please,” he begged, nearing you.

You sent him a small smile, and he reluctantly returned it.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve been a lot nicer,” you whispered.

Peter shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did so.

“You would’ve found out eventually. Besides, why would I? It’s embarrassing,” he said, making you frown.

“Don’t say that,” you told him, shaking your head. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Peter.”

He scoffed, jaw clenching as he frowned at you.

“I’m 21, and I’ve never seen a girl naked. The guys on the- well, the guys…they never stop teasing me about it,” he grumbled, looking out the window.

“Fuck them,” you said, and Peter chuckled. “I didn’t have sex until I was 26.”

He whipped his head around to face you, eyes wide as he took in your confession. You watched the way he ran them over you, shaking his head.

“No way,” he breathed in disbelief.

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? You think because I make money entertaining men that means I came out of the womb ready to-.”

“No, no,” he hurried to explain. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

He eyed you again, his perusal not so quick now as he slowly traced every curve that your dress did little to hide, eyes darkening ever so slightly. You were surprised to find that you liked that, stomach twisting, and you fought the urge to squirm.

“I just mean…look at you,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours. “You’re gorgeous.”

You’d heard that from many men before, all of them sincere in their assessment, but there was something about the way Peter said it that made your heart flutter. He stated it like it was a universal truth, like he believed it more than he believed anything else in the world. You swallowed and turned to look out of the window, eyes trailing over the skyline.

“I still have to say yes to offers and…I simply didn’t want to. Like I said, lack of experience is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He gave an unsure chuckle.

“Tell that to the guys,” he murmured.

You suddenly smirked before turning to face him, surprised to find his gaze still on you.

“Whether or not we do have sex tonight, you can always lead them to believe that we did.”

He blinked at you, and you shrugged.

“Brag about how your first time was with a woman who made you come 4 times in one night and gave you head that made you see stars. Then you can ask them what their first time was like, and I guarantee you they’ll shut up,” you continued.

Peter’s smile matched your devious one, and you both laughed as you looked away.

“They were all probably bumbling teenagers who came in under 40 seconds and sent the poor girl home sorely disappointed and unsatisfied,” you remarked, rolling your eyes. “Pants around their ankles and all…”

You could feel his eyes on you as he laughed, and you turned to look at him. Peter didn’t look 21. That wasn’t to say that he looked that much older, but there was a hardness to his face that gave away life experience and even wisdom that most 21-yearolds didn’t possess. You certainly hadn’t at that age, but there was a sparkle in his eye, an eager gleam that gave him away though, that revealed his true age.

As if reading your thoughts, Peter suddenly spoke.

“How old are you?”

You smirked at him.

“I just turned 36,” you proudly answered, and Peter blanched.

He shook his head, a disbelieving laugh escaping him as he flitted his eyes over you again.

“You don’t look it at all,” he said, and you scoffed.

“Do you think we just keel over and die the minute we turn 35? 36 is still young,” you tsk’d, tapping your finger against his nose.

Your smile fell when he hurried to grab your wrist, hold firm as he halted your movements. He pulled you towards him, and you stumbled as you tripped over your feet, taken aback by his strength. His face was so close to yours, and you could smell the cologne he’d put on that morning.

“That isn’t…that isn’t what I meant,” he quietly replied.

You breathed him in and watched as he darted his tongue out to swipe it over his bottom lip. A dark strand of hair kissed his forehead as his eyes flitted between your wide ones.

“I just meant that I have an aunt. She practically raised me, and she’s not that much older than you, and…,” he trailed off, eyes lingering on your collarbone and lips as he looked you over again, voice lowering. “You don’t look anything like her.”

Despite the way your heart raced, you gathered yourself enough to speak.

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that I don’t remind you of the woman who raised you,” you joked.

Peter didn’t laugh with you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took his free hand and raised it to your shoulder. His fingers danced along your skin as it slid to your collarbone before gliding to the back of your neck, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of it.

“Can I kiss you?”

You gave a slow nod, watching as he seemed to consider something. He licked his lips again, and softly brushed them along yours. Your stomach flipped, the feeling surprising you because Peter was just another client. He was no different from Tony or anyone else, so why did the taste of him have your eyes falling closed of their own accord?

He pulled back, nose brushing yours, and before you could open your eyes, his mouth covered yours in a hungry kiss. You moaned against his lips, unable to help yourself, because while Peter lacked experience in bed, he knew how to take your breath away. Both of his hands were on your neck now, tilting your head to accommodate him, and you had no choice but to follow as he moved back.

You gasped into his mouth when he suddenly spun you, understanding dawning on you when he pressed his hands onto your shoulders. You lowered yourself to his bed, looking up at him and preparing for what you thought he wanted, only to be surprised when he fell to his knees before you.

“W-what are you-?”

“I’ve only done this once,” he said, sliding his hands along your legs and underneath your dress. “…but she really seemed to enjoy it so…”

You watched him as he dragged your underwear down your thighs, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder. You were taken aback by the hungry look in his gaze, heat coiling in your stomach as you realized what was about to happen. He looked at you, face serious, and you blinked, shaking yourself out of whatever daze you seemed to be in. He looked at you like he was waiting, and hesitantly, you laid down.

You swallowed, eyes on the ceiling as he spread your thighs, pushing them towards you as he lowered. You could feel his breath on you, and you involuntarily clenched. It was crazy how long you’d been doing this, and yet, you couldn’t remember the last time a client made you feel so…nervous. There was no more time to think about that because Peter’s tongue tasted you, and you jerked, stomach clenching just before he dove in.

You sharply inhaled as he swirled his tongue around you, lips sucking on your lower ones, and you reached out to twist his bedding in your hands. He moaned against you, the feeling seeming to vibrate throughout your entire body, and you let out a broken moan too. One of his hands let you go, sliding along the bed until it found yours. He placed it on his head before gripping your thigh again, and you did the same with the other as well.

The feel of your fingers in his hair seemed to spur him on, and your eyes rolled as he laved his tongue against you. You could see why some unnamed girl who he was with enjoyed this, and you bit your lip when he slid a finger inside of you. It wasn’t hard to tell that Peter aimed to please, and you hissed when he curled his finger inside of you, pushing another into you. It wasn’t long before you were coming undone on his tongue, and he licked at you like a man starved.

His face was wet when he rose, and chest still heaving, you reached out to pull him into a kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips, and you supposed that he earned the right to be smug. His eyes flittered between yours when he pulled away, face flushed as his chest heaved. You opened your mouth to speak when his hand came up to your chin, his fingers running over your lips and smearing what was left of your lipstick.

“Show me…,” he whispered, voice trailing off as he brushed his nose along yours. “Show me how to touch you. How to make you feel good…”

Heat settled into the pit of your stomach as his words hit you, and you laid your hand on his chest. You couldn’t recall ever hearing those words from anyone before. With your profession, most, if not all of the men were hellbent on impressing you. They knew you had other clients, so they were all determined to be your favorite by experimenting, trying out new moves, and even bringing things into the bedroom they’d seen someone use in some crappy porn video.

Every single one of them was always too focused on what you thought of them. Their build, their hands, their stamina. Sure, they wanted to make you come, but at the end of the day, it was more for themselves and their own ego than your actual pleasure, and yet…

Here was Peter, this man who could barely be called that at all, this virgin asking you to show him what women liked. What you liked. He wanted to actually listen and learn, and you thought to yourself that he was going to make a wonderful lover, hell even boyfriend or husband someday.

“Okay,” you said, pushing him back, and he allowed you to do so.

His eyes sparkled as he laid down, gazing up at you as you straddled him. You suddenly felt nervous as you started to unbutton his shirt, and you didn’t know why. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d felt nervous. Not even with Tony, because while, yes, he was the great Tony Stark, he was still a man just like any other. When you got Peter’s shirt open, eyes taking in his muscular figure with surprise, it hit you as to why.

Peter’s first experience with sex was going to be with you. What would happen tonight would set the very foundation for his relationship and feelings with sex forever. How he viewed sex from here on out was entirely up to you, and your shoulders felt incredibly heavy all of a sudden. Peter would always remember you, one way or the other. You danced your fingers along his torso, and Peter reached up to grab your hands.

His eyes were heated when you gazed into them, and you watched the way the corner of his mouth curved upwards. His fingers played with yours, and it was only then did you realized they were trembling. He ran his eyes over you, his gaze lingering on the expanse of your neck before he spoke.

“You seem nervous,” he quietly said, and you bit back a smile.

“…would you believe me if I told you I am?”

You pulled on his hands, and he sat up, slipping out of his shirt and watching as you reached for his pants.

“Why?”

You paused to glance at him.

“My first time was great, but I know that isn’t the case for everyone…most people, to be honest, but I don’t want you to be like most people.”

“I couldn’t possibly not enjoy this,” Peter scoffed, and you shrugged, sliding off of the bed to lower to your knees.

Peter’s hands gripped your shoulders before you could undo his pants, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. His jaw was clenched, gaze intense as he looked down at you, and confusion filled you when he pulled you back up.

“While I’m sure you’re great at that, I really want to be inside of you.”

You chuckled at his eagerness, and he pulled you back onto him, hands sliding your dress up.

“I’ve waited 21 years for this…I’m not waiting another minute,” he murmured, peeling the black material off of you.

He sharply inhaled at the sight of your red bra, the lace complimenting your breasts nicely. You had been under the impression that you were going to be with Tony tonight, and you knew the man liked red. You didn’t know how Peter felt about it, but if the way his dark eyes took you in was anything to go by, you’d say he enjoyed the color red too. Or at least enjoyed it on you.

You kissed him, helping him slip out of his pants, and a gasp escaped your lips as he pulled you onto him, his member hard and warm through his boxers. You looked down, smiling at the silk material, and you got the feeling a certain superhero had gotten them for him. Peter’s hands landed on your waist, and you placed your own over them, sliding them up to your chest.

“Some girls like it rough, but when in doubt, be gentle,” you told him, taking in a shaky breath as he brushed his thumbs over you.

Hearing that, he repeated the action, lips finding your collarbone as he did so. Your lashes fluttered as you ground yourself against him, and Peter let out a broken moan. One of his hands moved to your neck to bring you down into a kiss while the other slid to your back. His hand massaged you, repeating his earlier action as soon as your bra was gone while you reached to rid him of the black material hanging on his waist.

You pushed him back to lay down again, your lace briefs the only thing separating you. That didn’t last long as Peter clutched them in his hand, yanking them down, and you helped him do so. Both of his hands were on your neck now, holding you to him as he moved his mouth against yours, a hiss escaping him as you gripped him in your hand. You opened your eyes to watch his face, your own lips parting when his did, a broken moan climbing out of his throat as you slowly lowered yourself onto him.

Your eyes widened at the feel of him stretching you, and they remained on Peter as he felt the same. You were mesmerized, eyes completely focused on the way his pink lips fell open, back arching ever so slightly as he dug his hands into your waist. He moaned when you moved your hips, hands resting on his chest to anchor yourself.

Peter was vocal and, having been with so many men who were afraid to even say your name in bed, you liked that. Heat swirled in your stomach as you rose again and again, sliding down so that you met his thighs with ease. His lashes fluttered, face flushed as you clenched around him. His jaw ticked, eyes flashing with something before he pulled you down into another kiss.

His lips were hungry, and you swallowed his groans as you continued to move your hips over him. One hand was pressing into your back, the other digging into your waist as you felt him move. You gasped as he started to push his hips up into yours, the drag of his cock making your heart skip a beat. A choked moan escaped you, eyes flying open to find his gaze already on you.

“Y/N,” he groaned, lips peppering kisses against your jaw.

The hand on your back traveled to your hair, lightly tugging at the root, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deep in the fog of ecstasy, you didn’t register what was happening until Peter had completely lifted his hips, uprooting you until the room was spinning and you found yourself on your back. You sharply exhaled as your back hit his bed and gave a surprised chuckle, his strength throwing you off guard once again.

He seemed to be acting on impulse, suddenly unsure, but the determination in his eyes had you wrapping your legs around his waist. That forced him inside of you to the hilt, and he swallowed, jaw clenching. You leaned up to press a kiss to his throat.

“Do what feels right. It’s okay to take your time,” you whispered.

You felt him nod, and you laid back down, gazing up at him as he held himself above you for a moment. He just remained there, eyes unable to stay in one place for long, unsure of where to look. He pressed his hands into the bed on either side of your head, face taut with both hunger and concentration, hips moving back before meeting yours again.

His thrusts were gentle, a far cry from what you were used to, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of him. After a while, he pushed his knees further up, forcing your legs to fall around him as he pushed them back, and you gasped, hand flying to his back while the other twisted into the sheets. You could feel his eyes on you as your back arched, and you spoke before he could.

“Right there,” you breathed.

Peter listened, holding himself there as he pushed into you, and you threw your head back. You heard him curse, and his lips were on your neck moments later. You could feel yourself fluttering around him, and you knew you were close. The thin layer of sweat that clung to him and the strain on his face told you that Peter had been doing his best to hold off on his own climax, and you rushed to press your lips to his.

“Come for me, Peter. Please,” you whispered into his mouth.

Collapsing against you, he did just that, moaning against your lips. Your own legs trembled at the feel of him twitching inside of you, chest heaving as you clenched around him, and your nails dug into his back. He pressed more kisses into your neck, lips trailing along your shoulder as you came down from your high.

You hadn’t even realized how tired you were until he sat up to look down at you. You tiredly blinked at him, smiling as he kissed you again.

“Happy birthday, Peter,” you murmured, but you didn’t hear his reply.

You were already falling asleep beneath him, a first for you, and you felt his lips on yours as you did so.

You collapsed against him as his arms tightened around your waist, and Peter chuckled into the skin of your shoulder as you continued to flutter around him. His own chest heaved, and you pressed your hands into the damp skin of his back, holding onto him as he flipped you both around. As you bounced on the bed beneath him, you thought to yourself that you’d never get used to his strength.

You had taken Peter Parker’s virginity exactly 2 weeks ago, and since then, he’d become something of a regular client of yours. This wasn’t unusual. First time clients normally kept reserving you for days after the first time. Tony himself had paid for 4 more days with you after your first night together, but no one had ever done so for 2 weeks straight. You’d think that with his newfound experience, Peter would take this opportunity to explore. Surely, he had some girl in his life he was interested in. But no, the young man was content to pay for you every night.

You’d come by last night, but Peter had gotten into the habit of waking you up in a way that was hard to hate. The morning after his birthday, you’d taken it upon yourself to wake him up with your mouth on his cock, and he’d been returning the favor ever since. You had a little time before you had to go, and you watched as Peter got up to make his way to the kitchen. You frowned a bit, holding the sheet to you as you watched him search his cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you breakfast,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It wouldn’t be the first time, but you didn’t want to make a habit out of it.

“Peter,” you groaned. “Stop that. You don’t have to-.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he pleaded, eyes wide as they met yours, begging you.

You bit your lip at his pleading gaze, eyes sparkling, and you let out a sigh. You nodded, clutching the sheet to you as you made your way over to him. He was beaming by the time you reached him, and you grazed your fingers down his arm.

“Peter, you already pay me for sex. You don’t have to make it up to me by cooking or anything-.”

“I want to,” he interrupted, grinning at you. “…and not just to ‘pay you back’.”

His eyes roamed over your face before pressing his lips to yours.

“You’re amazing. How can I not?” he murmured into your mouth.

“Well, of course I’m amazing. It’s my job,” you replied, hoping to remind him what this was.

You watched as he frowned, face pinching as he shook his head, ruffling his brown hair.

“Don’t…don’t say it like that,” he complained.

“Well, that’s how it is,” you sang, placing a kiss on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “This is my job, Peter.”

He sighed, back rising and falling with the action.

“I know,” he sadly said. “…but…when it’s just the two of us…it doesn’t feel like it, you know?”

You did know.

Peter definitely wasn’t the first to say that, but he was the first you agreed with. Peter had a way of making you forget that you were currently working, and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. Getting attached to clients, and vice versa, was highly discouraged for so many reasons, but in Peter’s case, it was expected. He had been a virgin, and he was young, so you expected him to develop some sort of attachment to you, but it had been weeks. You’d give it another or so before his feelings waned.

They were superficial, after all.

After you two ate, you finally got dressed, Peter’s eyes on you the entire time you did so. He walked with you out of his apartment and downstairs, kissing you goodbye. He was reluctant to pull away, but you sent him a parting smile when he finally did.

The only reason Peter hadn’t reserved you for tonight was because of some prior engagement that he couldn’t get out of. At least, that was what he told you, but you had your own suspicions. He was much stronger than he looked, and that coupled with the fact that he seemed to be incredibly close with Tony led you to believe that the man was a hero himself. Of course, you weren’t sure as to who, but it wasn’t a concern of yours. He had an identity to keep, and you understood that.

Being a high-end escort for incredibly wealthy clients paid exceptionally well, and with hours to spare before your next arrangement, you took the time to shower and relax. You hadn’t had many moments to yourself since Peter, and you found yourself absentmindedly smiling as you thought of the younger man.

He was unlike anyone else that you’d ever been with, and that was saying something. Peter was always so eager, and not just for sex, but to please you as well. He’d become quite the impressive lover since that first night, taking all of your advice to heart, and there were moments where you swore he got more pleasure out of seeing you come undone than anything else.

Hours later, when you slipped on your dress and got started on your hair, you wondered to yourself how different tonight would be. You hadn’t been with anyone else but Peter in weeks, and you were sure that your client tonight just wouldn’t compare. You had to get rid of such thoughts, reminding yourself that this was just a job, and it would do no good to start comparing all of your other clients to Peter.

You were in your car and halfway across town when you got a call from your boss, the woman who ran the company you worked for. You answered the call, Bluetooth connected, and her voice filled your car moments later.

“Bad news, Y/N. Your client cancelled,” was the first thing she said.

You frowned, taken aback by that not just because it had never happened to you before, but also because payment was nonrefundable. The company you worked for prided themselves on a guaranteed experience.

“He…canceled? Does he know that-?”

“Believe me, he knows. I asked him several times to make sure, but he insisted that something came up that couldn’t be ignored. I’m guessing a family emergency or maybe even problems with a wife,” she sighed.

You rolled your eyes, lip curling in disgust. A job was a job, but you absolutely despised the married men you had to service, and it always took everything in you to keep a straight face whenever you noticed the tan line on their ring finger.

“Should I keep you available for tonight? We have plenty of girls on call, but its up to you,” she offered, and you sighed.

You were already dolled up and out, but there was no telling when or where your next client would be. You didn’t want to wait around all night nor drive all over town just for an arrangement.

“No,” you said, exhaling. “I guess I’ll enjoy this rare night off.”

She was fine with that, and the car was silent once again as you hung up. You made your way to a restaurant, one of your favorites, telling yourself you’d enjoy a nice night out with yourself. You were grateful that you’d put on a more modest dress, something classy that didn’t attract too much attention as you were shown to a table.

The waitress had just left to get you a bottle of Chardonnay when a shadow fell over you. You didn’t think too much of it, but there was a presence near you that couldn’t be ignored, and you were just about to look up when he spoke.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your eyes were wide as they met familiar dark ones, and your mouth parted in shock.

“Peter! How…?”

You glanced around, confusion filling you.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugged.

“I told you. I had something I couldn’t get out of, but it was taken care of much quicker than I thought it’d be. I saw you come in and wanted to say hi,” he said with a crooked smile, pushing his hair back into place away from his forehead.

You ran your eyes over him, smiling at the tux he wore, appreciating the way it hugged his frame.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” you complimented.

His face flushed, and he briefly looked down. How he could still act so bashful around you was a mystery, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

“So…? Is this seat taken?” he repeated when his eyes met yours again.

You faltered, at war with yourself.

“No…but… I don’t think its such a good idea,” you told him.

He frowned a bit, and guilt flooded your frame as his shoulders fell.

“Why not?” he quietly asked, genuinely confused.

You sighed, rubbing the side of your neck, and Peter’s dark eyes were drawn to the action.

“You’re my client,” you whispered, glancing around. “We really shouldn’t develop anything outside of that.”

He playfully rolled his eyes.

“It’s one dinner. I’m starving, and you’re starving, and we’re both here…,” he trailed off, and you let out a chuckle at his logic.

He raised an eyebrow at you, a look on his face that told you he knew he had you. With a sigh, you gave a reluctant nod, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“No, it isn’t taken.”

He sat down with a grin, and you noticed the cut on the side of his face, the shallow wound bleeding just a bit. That only added to your suspicions, and you reached across the table with a napkin. He seemed surprised before a sheepish look fell over his face.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“How did you even get past the door?” you wondered, settling into your seat.

His eyes swept over the menu, and he hummed before glancing up at you from beneath his lashes, a smirk dancing along his lips.

“I’m 21, now, remember?”

You nodded with a small chuckle, a smirk crawling over your own lips.

“Of course. How could I forget?”

You both ordered as soon as the waitress returned, and you sipped on the alcohol in your glass as Peter watched you. You looked at him curiously.

“What?”

He shook his head, a soft look on his face as he took in everything from your hair to your lip gloss.

“You just look really pretty,” he said, making your face heat up. “I doubt you got all dolled up to eat alone.”

You set your wine down, straightening just as your food arrived. You finally responded when the woman left.

“No, I didn’t,” you admitted. “I had a client tonight, but he cancelled. A first really, but all the more strange considering we don’t do refunds.”

His eyes were on you as you shrugged, and you watched the way he looked away. Peter didn’t look like himself at all in his sharp tuxedo, dark hair smoothly pushed back to expose his forehead. His pink lips were pursed, jaw clenched as he seemed to be stewing on something. You glanced away just as he looked at you, not wanting to be caught checking him out.

“How many clients do you have?” he wondered, picking at his food.

You hummed.

“Well…if we’re only talking about regulars, including you, that makes 9.”

He bit his lip at that, nodding.

“I see.”

Neither one of you said anything for a while as you both ate, just enjoying each other’s company. You got the feeling that something was weighing on Peter’s mind, but you didn’t want to pressure him into talking about anything he wasn’t comfortable with.

“Is…is Mr. Stark one of your regulars?” he finally asked, face unreadable.

You took a sip of wine before answering.

“He is. Although, I haven’t seen him in weeks thanks to you,” you said with a teasing grin.

He glanced away, doing nothing to hide his smirk. His dark eyes glanced around the restaurant, taking in the nice scenery before he spoke again.

“Are there girls with only one client?”

He seemed to be really interested in your job tonight, but you were more than happy to answer any of his questions.

“Mm…not at my agency. It isn’t unheard of, especially for women like me who deal with more upscale clients who can afford exclusivity, but it isn’t really encouraged,” you said with a shake of your head.

His brows furrowed.

“Why not?”

You sighed.

“Things happen, things can go wrong, and if you lose that client, you basically have to start from scratch with building a clientele. Of course, you’ll get clients, but collecting regulars is how you keep your money consistent.”

Peter hummed at that, nodding in understanding before flagging down a nearby server for another bottle. You tilted your head at him, and he smiled.

“My treat,” he said, and who were you to refuse?

An entire hour had gone by, and you were finally leaving the restaurant. Your arm was looped through Peter’s as you hung onto him, almost wobbling in your heels. You’d had much more to drink than you intended, but fortunately for you, Peter was as sober as a saint.

“This is so embarrassing,” you groaned as Peter walked you outside, and he chuckled.

“I think you’re cute when you’re drunk,” he replied, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course, you do,” you mumbled, looking around with a frown. “How did you get here?”

You had a feeling he didn’t drive, and Peter simply shrugged as he looked at you, hands on your arms now as you faced him.

“That’s a secret,” was his only reply.

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in as your drunk brain took control of your sober mouth.

“You’re one of them…aren’t you? A superhero,” you whispered, and Peter’s grin widened. “You’re much stronger than you look.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Are you complaining?”

You shook your head.

“Definitely not. Although…I suppose that can be a little concerning, but there are no complaints here.”

Your ankle bent as you took a step forward, and you would have gone straight down if it weren’t for Peter. With a smirk, he wrestled your keys out of your hand, holding them tightly in his as he curled an arm around your waist.

“Okay, so I’m obviously driving you home,” he said, and you tilted your head at him.

Your eyes were narrowed, skeptical as you trailed them over his frame.

“Can you even drive?” you mockingly said, but you were also half serious.

It was a genuine question. Peter said nothing as he walked you to your passenger door, depositing you in the seat before buckling you in.

“Watch me,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You pressed your hand to your head as he shut the door, unable to remember the last time you had gotten drunk. It wasn’t a feeling you liked, but Peter was here so you allowed yourself to relax. Your head lolled back as he started the car, and you started to mumble out directions. You found that Peter was a good driver. Hell, maybe even better than you, and you felt more than safe with him behind the wheel, a lighthearted conversation flowing between you two as one of his hands rested on your thigh.

He practically carried you upstairs to your apartment, something about too scared to let you walk. He dropped your keys onto the table next to the door as soon as you were inside, and you stumbled away from him as you dug into your purse for your phone.

“Let me call you a cab to get you home,” you murmured, head spinning a bit.

He didn’t say anything, but you heard him approach you, steps heavy. You suddenly blinked, thinking with a frown.

“…or should I call Tony?” you wondered to yourself before shaking your head. “No, a cab. It’s the least…I…can do…”

Your words got quieter as Peter wrapped his arms around you, swallowing them altogether as he turned you around to face him. His eyes were dark, face entirely serious as he stepped forward, only stopping when your back hit the wall. You looked at him in mild surprise, swallowing when one of his hands came up to grip the back of your neck.

“Peter…”

Your voice trailed off when he leaned in to press his lips to your jaw, trailing kisses down to your neck. Your lashes fluttered, and you pressed a hand to his chest.

“Peter…we can’t,” you breathed.

Getting attached to clients was discouraged, but this? Having sex with any outside of work? That was just plain stupid and asking for a disaster to happen. There was no telling what your boss would do if she found out. Peter slid his leg between yours, thigh brushing against you in a way that had you releasing a shaky breath.

“Sounds like we can,” he hummed, and you shook your head, pushing him away.

“No. If my boss found out-.”

“Then they won’t find out,” he said, pressing his chest against yours, one hand digging into your waist. “Please…”

His eyes glinted with need, and you got the feeling he was barely holding himself back.

“Peter-.”

“If it’s that important to you, I’ll pay you,” he whispered, voice thick with desperation. “I don’t care, just…”

He attached his lips to your neck, pressing his thigh more firmly against you.

“Just let me touch you,” he practically begged.

His mouth found yours again, and you pressed your hand against his chest again, but he wouldn’t budge. The alcohol coursing through your system made your movements slow, and you could only moan as he ground himself against you, holding you in his arms.

“Peter,” you weakly protested as he took a step back, taking you with him.

He ignored you, pressing his back to the wall as he kept you pinned against him, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth. Your purse slipped from your hands, clattering to the floor, and Peter groaned deep in his throat as he lifted you.

You reached out to grab onto the walls as he made his way through your apartment, fingers slipping off of the surface. You gasped when your back met the surface of your couch, Peter’s frame fitting perfectly between your legs. You couldn’t remember who undressed who, but Peter was quick to slip his fingers into you as soon as your underwear were gone, his other hand resting on your neck.

You felt his eyes on you when you finally came around his fingers, unable to swallow down your moans, and Peter’s lips were parted when you looked at him. You watched, transfixed, as he stuck them in his mouth, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or not, but you found that twice as attractive as you normally did.

Eager to be inside of you, Peter wasted no more time before pushing into you with one smooth thrust. You threw your head back as Peter cursed, one hand immediately digging into the arm of the couch beside your head, hips snapping against yours. His other hand grabbed your leg, bending it and pushing it towards your chest, making your lashes flutter.

“Peter,” you murmured, pressing your nails into his chest.

He hummed, leaning down to steal a kiss, groaning when you clenched around him. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the way Peter was pushing himself into you so deliciously, teeth nipping at your lips and fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise. You would think that you hadn’t fucked him in weeks with the way he held you, hips slapping against yours.

When you came around him for a second time, you couldn’t even tell which way was up, face pressed into the couch cushions now as Peter pinned your chest down with a hand on your back, ass lifted to take his unrelenting thrusts. Your breaths only slowed when you felt him pull out, coming on your back as his own labored breathing filled your ears.

Your body felt so heavy, alcohol and fatigue coursing through you, but Peter didn’t care as he stood, pulling you against him. He wrapped his arms around you as he pressed his chest against your back, walking you in the direction of your room.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” he wondered, lips finding the back of your ear as he placed kisses on your skin.

Your feet tripped over each other, vision blurry as you struggled to stay conscious.

“Not…not until the evening,” you breathed, a broken moan slipping from your lips when his fingers dipped into you.

He laughed to himself, a triumphant sound as he forced you through the doorway.

“Good.”

He kicked the door shut behind him.

It was a windy evening in New York as you hurriedly made your way to Stark Tower. A shiver tore through you as the cool air hit you, and you were thankful when you made it inside. The identification process took only seconds, what with you frequently being here and all. It felt like forever since you’d seen Tony, and you supposed that by his standards, it had been. You usually saw him at least once a week, and you had gone weeks without doing so.

However, the last person you expected to see when entering the building was the one who was the very reason for that. Peter looked just as stunned to see you, and you didn’t know if it was because you were here at Stark Tower or because you hadn’t seen him in about a week. After your drunken night with him, you’d taken it upon yourself to ask your boss to book you with anyone as soon as possible and for as long as possible.

The night you’d spent with Peter had left you so conflicted. Despite the alcohol that had been coursing through your system, you remembered everything. More importantly, you remembered that you hadn’t fallen asleep until 4 o’clock that morning. Your skin still prickled every time you thought about that night, body heating up as you remembered the way he touched you, and that…was not good. Never mind the fact that you shouldn’t have slept with him anyway. So…you needed time away from him to clear your head and try to get your own feelings back on track.

Peter shook his head, blinking as he broke himself out of his stupor before grinning at you. You returned it, although yours wasn’t as bright, but he didn’t seem to mind. He neared you and started to reach for you before thinking better of it and pulling away.

“Hey,” he said after clearing his throat.

“Hey,” you echoed, adjusting your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

Somehow, he wasn’t expecting you to ask that, and as he struggled to answer, you were reminded of your suspicions. With a soft chuckle, you shook your head, signaling for him to let it go. You didn’t need an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” he wondered.

“Working,” you said with a sheepish shrug, noticing the way his smile fell a bit.

Peter shoved his hands into his pocket as he nodded.

“Oh. Who-?”

“There you are! I was just about to call because you were supposed to be here-.”

Tony cut himself off as he registered Peter’s presence, slowing down as he neared you both. Peter had turned to look over his shoulder just as Tony had started talking, and you reluctantly stepped past him as Tony reached for you.

“I thought you left, kid,” the billionaire said, brows drawn together.

Peter’s smile was completely gone now as he looked between you two, and you avoided his eyes. For some reason, you felt like you were doing something wrong even though you weren’t. This was your job. You had nothing to feel bad about.

“Yeah, I was-I was just heading out and then I ran into Y/N,” he replied, voice low.

He continued before Tony had a chance to reply, hurriedly backing away.

“I’ll see you later, Mr. Stark.”

He waved you both goodbye, and you followed as Tony pulled you along. The dark-haired man was saying something to you as you neared the elevator, but you didn’t hear a word. You glanced over your shoulder just as the doors slid open, eyes briefly meeting Peter’s dark ones just before Tony pulled you inside.

“You look good,” Tony told you as soon as the doors closed.

You forced a smirk onto your lips, forcing thoughts of Peter away as you leaned against the wall.

“I wish I could say the same. You look like hell,” you teased, and Tony playfully rolled his eyes.

It was a half-truth because aside from the suave suit he had on, he did look more tired than usual. One of the cons of being a superhero you supposed.

“Well, I have you to thank for that,” he complained, and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Oh, don’t pout. It’s so unbecoming. I can’t help it that I’m in high demand,” you replied with a shrug.

“Is that what you’d call it?” he wondered, one eyebrow quirked upwards. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“…and yet somehow you managed,” you said with a smile.

“Barely,” he mumbled just as the numbers stopped.

He pulled you into his side as you exited the elevator, hand briefly curled around your waist as he gave you an affectionate squeeze. Tony left you to go to the bar, and you shed your coat, sitting your purse down as you glanced around. Tony hadn’t done any redecorating, you disdainfully noticed. His taste was so flashy.

“So…,” he lowly sang, and you turned to face him.

He was raising an eyebrow at you as he fixed you a drink, and you frowned in confusion.

“So what?”

Tony scoffed.

“The kid. His 21st birthday. How’d it go?” he wondered. “I did promise him a night he wouldn’t forget.”

You scrunched your face up, shaking your head as you neared him, heels clicking against the floor.

“First of all, can you please stop referring to him as ‘the kid’? It’s a little weird considering I’ve seen him naked,” you commented.

Tony pulled a disgusted look at that, and you chuckled, happily taking the drink he offered.

“…and second of all…”

You took a sip, smirking at him as another chuckle bubbled in your throat.

“…it’s a little insulting considering he has quickly become my favorite client,” you whispered.

You bit your lip, swallowing down a laugh as Tony froze, looking at you like you’d grown a second head. He looked equal parts shocked and insulted, but you simply shrugged, turning away from him.

“How’d that happen?”

Was it you or did he sound bitter?

“What can I say? Peter’s a fast learner. Plus, he’s just so darn sweet.”

You heard Tony approach you, and he scoffed.

“Are you saying I’m not sweet? Do I not get you flowers and the best food there is?”

You rolled your eyes at him before tilting your head as you heard your phone buzzing. You neared your bag as you answered him.

“Look, Tony, I like you and all, and as far as business goes, you’re a great client, but let’s face it.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you wrapped your hand around your phone.

“…you’re kind of an asshole.”

He grumbled as you laughed, but it died in your throat as you read the text from your boss. Taking note of your silence, Tony commented on it.

“What is it?” his voice was in your ear as you stood, and you blinked as you read the message for a third time, confusion filling you.

“I…have to go,” you told him, but it sounded more like a question.

It took a minute for Tony to register what you said before he blinked a few times.

“…what?”

“I have to go? Apparently, a client offered three times my rate to spend the night with me,” you explained as you slid your coat back on.

“You’re kidding,” Tony spat.

You threw him an apologetic look while you secured the belt around your waist.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I know it’s been a while-.”

“Weeks,” he interrupted.

“I know, I know, but there’s no way my boss was going to turn this down, and therefore, I’d be crazy to do so too. She’s sending one of the other girls over,” you called over your shoulder, hurrying towards the elevator.

You heard him heave an annoyed sigh, and as you faced him, you mouthed ‘sorry’ just before the elevator doors closed. It was cooler when you stepped outside, but your mind was too hung up on who could have possibly paid that much money for a night with you. You read the address one more time, realizing that you were familiar with that hotel before sliding into your car.

It wasn’t too far down the street, and just as your boss said, the room was under your name. It was one of the nicer suites, but it was empty of anyone else, and you frowned in confusion, wondering if you’d gotten it wrong. However, the red lacy garments on the bed told you otherwise. Having already showered before going to see Tony, you got undressed and hesitantly put them on.

Just as you were sitting down and pulling the sheer thigh high tights up your legs, you heard the door open. You briefly froze before glancing up only for your mouth to part in shock. You sat up straight, completely thrown and confused as your eyes met his.

“Peter?”

He simply shrugged at you, and you noticed that he’d changed. He didn’t look anything like the boyish collegian you saw earlier, but instead he reminded you of that drunken night. You ran your eyes over his dark attire, a question on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“I missed you.”

You briefly closed your eyes, letting out a sigh as your shoulders fell.

“Peter,” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know what you’re going to say, but you can’t make me not miss you,” he said, and you crossed your arms over your chest.

He moved to sit down next to you, and you hesitantly looked at him. His dark eyes drank you in, and he suddenly smiled at you.

“…besides, I paid this time.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile, and you shook your head.

“Where did you even get the money-?”

“Don’t worry about it. Come on,” he said, grabbing you and pulling you along with him as he moved up the bed.

You glanced at him, confused, when he pulled you into his arms, your head laying on his chest.

“Did you really pay all of this money and pick out fancy lingerie just to cuddle with me, Peter?”

Your voice was disbelieving, and you swallowed a laughed as he hummed an affirmative.

“…for now, anyway.”

You sighed, listening to his heart beneath his chest. It was beating so fast, and you wondered if you made him nervous.

“You know, Tony’s going to be more upset than he already was if he finds out that you stole me away just to cuddle,” you whispered.

He didn’t immediately respond, and you lifted your head to look at him. His face was unreadable, and he wouldn’t meet your eye, but he eventually sighed.

“Would you…would you ever exclusively see me?”

You frowned at him, rearing back a bit as you fully sat up. You ran your eyes over his face, trying to find the humor, but there wasn’t any. You scooted away from him, and he sighed again.

“Peter…”

“I like you-.”

“No.”

“I do!” he argued.

“You…can’t. This is my job,” you sadly said as you looked at him. “Nothing more.”

He frowned at you, skeptical.

“It is to me.”

You looked away from him, wishing this were a bad dream because this was truly something out of your nightmares. You cursed yourself for being so foolish to think of Peter’s feelings as shallow. You should have anticipated that it would be more.

“It’s more than that, and I know you feel it too.”

He reached for your hand, and you pulled away, moving to stand.

“Maybe…maybe I should go,” you whispered.

“No, no, wait,” he hurried to say, rushing to follow you, grabbing your hand.

You looked down at him, guilt eating away at you at the look on his face, but he blinked, and it was gone. He forced a smile onto his lips as he tilted his head at you.

“I’m sorry. Please stay. Don’t… Don’t go,” he quietly begged.

You swallowed, conflicted, and you glanced at the door.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…”

You watched him as he trailed off, clearly struggling with his words.

“You’re just so…pretty, you know? You’re this gorgeous and experienced woman, and you…you don’t make me feel like me. Like boring Peter Parker-.”

“Peter,” you quietly admonished, face falling at his self-depreciating words.

“I am lame. I keep my head in books and I’m obsessed with science and…”

He pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your stomach.

“You’re like one of those nymphs I read about in Greek stories that have this otherworldly beauty and they entrance men and…you’re interested in me, you know?” he mumbled. “Even without the money, you find me attractive and sexy and I just feel so great when I’m with you.”

He looked up at you, eyes apologetic as a brown strand brushed along his forehead.

“I just got caught up in that. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

You sighed, shoulders dropping as you nodded, accepting his apology.

“…come back to bed…please…”

Reluctantly, you joined him as he slid back, pulling you onto his lap. He ran his eyes over your face before slowly pressing his lips to yours. His fingers played with the lace on your figure, and you sighed into his mouth as he brushed his fingers over you.

“I really like this,” he said, lips brushing yours. “I don’t wanna ruin it.”

You both chuckled at that, and he helped you undress, eager to do the same for himself. You happily wrapped your legs around his waist as he rolled the both of you over, Peter’s hands dancing over your frame. You didn’t want to give Peter the idea that you could ever be anything more, but it was hard to think about how you’d go about that when he thrust into you so deliciously.

His hands never strayed from you once, hips slamming into yours as you held onto him. He moaned into your mouth when your nails scraped against his back and arms. You don’t know how long Peter fucked you, but he seemed determined to get his money’s worth. His teeth left marks, and his hand was tightening around your neck when you came around him for a second time. Even when he finally stilled against you, hips slamming against yours for a final time, he didn’t want to let you go.

His fingers dug into your waist as he pulled you against his chest, lips trailing kisses over your shoulder and neck as sleep claimed you.

The weeks that followed were…strange. Your life carried on as it normally did, but Peter’s presence no longer made you as comfortable as it did before. At first, it was just memories of the night he’d swiped you out from underneath Tony. You didn’t know how to act around him, afraid you’d give him the wrong idea and encourage his feelings. However, it quickly became more than just that.

Some mornings, you’d find yourself dragging yourself to the bathroom before examining the bruises he’d left behind in the mirror. They kind of hurt, but considering your suspicions about Peter, you thought that maybe he didn’t realize his own strength. Then of course there was the common coincidence of running into him while you were out, usually on the way to meet a client.

You’d been late 4 times already because of him, and of course, you’d gotten complaints. Your boss wasn’t exactly thrilled with you at the moment, but every time you ran into Peter, you just weren’t able to shake him. Even outside of the bedroom, he just took up so much of your time. He always seemed to be everywhere, and something nagged in the back of your mind that it wasn’t coincidence, but against your better judgement, you ignored it.

This morning was one of those mornings where you woke up sore, and you groaned as you rolled over. You heard Peter move behind you, arm resting on your hip as his lips met your shoulder.

“Good morning,” he whispered, sleep still in his voice.

You greeted him the same and sighed.

“I have to get an early start today,” you told him, moving to sit up.

Peter liked to cook breakfast for you whenever you spent a night with him, but you wouldn’t have time this morning. However, he had other ideas.

“No,” he groaned, pulling you back down.

A chuckle left your lips, this behavior not at all unusual, but you waved it off.

“Seriously, Peter, I have to go-.”

Your words were swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you, and you made a noise of protest deep in your throat. You pressed your hand to his chest as he covered your form with his own.

“Peter,” you protested, pushing against him as you felt him brush against you.

He ignored you as if you hadn’t said anything, hands roughly grabbing yours before pinning them down. A frown fell over your face at his actions, and you opened your mouth to tell him this wasn’t funny when he slid into you with one thrust.

You gasped, both in shock at the sudden action, and in horror as you registered what was happening. Peter’s lips met yours again, and you pushed against his hold with no avail. Your body had grown accustomed to his, had grown to welcome and crave his even, so you were unsurprised when he started to push into you more smoothly than he did a minute ago.

You bit his tongue when it slapped past your lips, and he pulled away from you with a frown. His hips didn’t falter once, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you clenched around him, and he hissed at that.

“You love the way I feel inside of you,” he groaned. “Even if you pretend that you don’t.”

“Get off,” you cried, a sob stuck in your chest.

He finally stopped, and he looked down at you with a harsh frown, eyes somehow darker than usual.

“Why?” he rudely asked. “So you can leave?”

“Yes,” you spat, and he flinched.

“I’m so tired of watching you leave me,” he quietly said, teary eyed. “I’m sick of it. Sick of watching you leave me again and again just to go fuck someone else.”

“It’s my job.”

Peter didn’t like your response, and he resumed his actions, making you throw your head back in frustration, trying to fight off the pleasure he was forcing onto you. Your wrists were sore under his harsh grip, and tears escaped as his lips nipped at your jaw, neck, chest, anywhere he could reach.

“I fuck you better than all of them. You said so yourself,” he murmured, hips meeting yours.

His lips brushed along your neck, and you could feel him smirk.

“…even better than Mr. Stark.”

You were in disbelief that this was happening, and even when he spilled into you, rolling off of you with a heaving chest, you were still in disbelief.

Disgusted and angry, you stomped out of bed, but you could hear Peter right behind you. He grabbed you as you reached for your clothes and purse, forcing you to face him as his fingers dug into your arm.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed at him, fighting to get out of his hold. “I don’t want you anywhere near me. What the hell is wrong with you, Peter?”

His brows furrowed, nostrils flaring.

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” he whispered.

“Yeah, well, last night you weren’t a fucking rapist,” you said, pushing against him. “I’m going to have you arrested.”

He let you go, and you stumbled away from him, hurriedly putting on your clothes.

“Someone would have to believe you in order for that to happen,” Peter quietly said, making you freeze.

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head, disbelief coursing through you. It was hard to wrap your head around what he said, and you blinked.

“Excuse me?”

Peter looked conflicted, jaw clenching as he eyed you, but it seemed his desire to have you outweighed his morals.

“Don’t do this, Y/N…because who is going to believe you when I have Tony Stark on my side?”

You reared back, frowning at him. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you felt fresh tears collect.

“I have plenty of people on my side. Plenty who will believe me. I have clients-.”

“The men who pay you to fuck them? Yeah, I’m sure they’re all upstanding gentlemen who will quickly come to the aid of an escort crying sexual assault! They don’t care about you,” he yelled, making you flinch. “You’re nothing to them but a hole with a pretty face.”

Your heart clenched at his harsh words, and he slowly approached you.

“…but not me. You’re more than that to me, Y/N, please-!”

He cut himself off as you brushed past him.

“I don’t care. I’ll report you to whoever I have to until I find someone who believes me,” you threw over your shoulder.

You reached the door just as white webbing flew past you to cover the handle. You froze again, eyes wide as you took it in, terrified to have your suspicions confirmed in the worst way possible. The knowledge that you were stuck in a room with a superhero, a dangerous one who could probably kill you, made you take a deep breath.

“So…you’re Spider-Man,” you whispered, more to yourself than him.

You shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet somehow, you were.

“I am.”

You slowly turned to face him, back pressed to the door as you eyed him. He was still naked, dark hair pushed away from his face as he gazed at you with a look that made you uncomfortable. Your lips trembled, fear gripping you as you shook your head, tears falling now.

“What do you want from me?” you tearfully asked him.

“I want you! I just…”

He hurried towards you, and you pressed yourself further into the door.

“I just want you,” he murmured. “I want all of you.”

More tears fell, even as he wiped them away, and you pushed against him.

“I can’t…I can’t just be with you. I have a job and-.”

“Quit it.”

You looked at him like he was crazy, but his face was entirely serious, and you both fought over your purse as he suddenly reached for it. He snatched your phone out of your hand as soon as you grabbed it, one hand pressed into your chest as he held it up.

“Call your job…and quit,” he lowly said, tone leaving no room for arguments.

You opened and closed your mouth, unsure of how to respond. Would Peter hurt you? Hell, he’d already raped you so maybe you shouldn’t put it past him.

“I don’t want to be the bad guy here. I just want to be with you,” he whispered.

He huffed when you still made no move to do as he said, and he swallowed, eyes boring into yours.

“Your parents are divorced, and your father is living in Colorado while your mom is enjoying her single life down in Florida,” he started, making your eyes widen in shock. “Your dad has a steady girlfriend he sees regularly whose usually at his house, but your mom…she lives alone.”

“Peter,” you whispered, stomach churning.

“Don’t make me be the bad guy,” he begged. “Just quit your job and be with me. It’s that simple.”

There were so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to know what happened to the sweet guy you’d met on his 21st birthday. You wanted to know why he couldn’t just be satisfied with what you had. You wanted to ask him what kind of relationship the two of you could even have? Not just with the age gap, but with what he’d done to you? However, with his not so subtle threat against your parents, you simply took your phone and did as he said with Peter watching you the whole time.

The minute you were done, he couldn’t get his hands on you fast enough, and what other choice did you have but to let him do what he wanted to you? His hands and lips were everywhere, and against your will, he made you come again and again as he fucked you against his sheets. Peter didn’t seem to care that you trembled in fear every time he so much as looked at you, as long as you were with him.

When he made you come for the umpteenth time that night, his face between your legs, that was when you finally passed out. You could have slept for an entire day for all you knew, but when you woke up, the smell of breakfast reached your nose, and you groggily opened your eyes to find Peter nearing you with a plate of food.

You warily eyed him as he perched himself in front of you, heart skipping a beat as he reached for your face. He awkwardly dropped his hand when you simply stared at him, and he sent you a sheepish smile.

“I made you breakfast,” he told you, sitting the plate in your lap when you sat up.

You continued to eye him as he sat there, and he eventually sighed before standing. He neared you, and you couldn’t stop the way you flinched, but he leaned down anyway, pressing his lips to your forehead. He remained there, deeply inhaling as he breathed you in.

“I know you think I’m a bad guy, but I don’t care…because you’re finally mine,” he murmured against your skin.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, your eyes meeting his, and a small smirk danced along his lips.

“…all mine.”

~

tags: @harryspet​ @mcudarklibrary​ @darkficreposter​ @xoxabs88xox​ @nickyl316h​ @readermia​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @honeychicanawrites​ @honeychicana​ @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @sherrybaby14​ @darealblasian​

#dark peter parker #Dark!Peter #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #marvel fanfiction #dark fic #peter parker x reader

[moondustis]

on the way (m)

pairing: seo johnny + reader genre: angst, smut | word count: 10k summary:  “There’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.” or A love story told in 5 acts.

a/n: hello! yes, finally a new fic and yes it is college!au with a hint of fwb. i have been writing this for around 4 months now and i haven’t read some parts in awhile so it’s probably all around the place. if something doesn’t make a lot of sense, well... it is what it is lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it! 

act 1: messy affairs 

See, there’s a few ways you could tell this story. The tale of how you met one Seo Johnny, and how it all went down. But maybe there's no better way to do it than from the beginning.

It’s a friday night, just like any other that happens after a mixture of weekly stress and the weird need to let it all out. It’s common, routine even, how you apply your makeup, pick your best outfit and scroll mindlessly through tinder in wait for your friends to arrive for a pre-game. It's common but not that usual, at least not until recently. 

Your last year of college had brought a lot of feelings that you didn't think you were ready to deal with yet. A nostalgia that arrived too soon, when you would catch yourself thinking that a moment shared with roommates would be the last one. An uncertainty of the future and a constant stress between writing a thesis that somehow is supposed to summarize the entirety of the knowledge you had gotten in the last year. 

And lastly, the reason why you're doing this: the unwavering fear that your life is just about to start. The same feeling you got when college just started, of freedom and new beginnings. But now, instead of the excitement and thrill, it's replaced by anxiety and the heavy weight of adulthood about to start.  That's why you look into the mirror, again, applying your lip gloss with the screen of your phone still illuminated by a picture of a person just waiting to be swiped left or right. You just need to have fun, like you never will again. 

It's that a too harsh way to start this? Well, back to Seo Johnny. 

It's a friday night and your friends arrive, flavored vodka in hand, the cheap kind that tastes like it's not alcoholic at all. A shot for each and then you are all laughing and joking to pass time. 

"Why do we have to pre game? I'm sure there will be plenty to drink." Sarah, a blonde girl with friendly cheeks asks. She tips the shot on her hand back anyway, despite the question. 

"Hell no I'm not going to drink frat booze again, they are cheap." Ela, tall and smart and majoring is Social Politics, says. 

You hum and Sarah asks "And we are not?"

"No, we have our dear friend making us drinks." Ela gestures wildly at Nicole, the bartender of the night who's wearing a dress that only battles your own in the matters of shortness. "We are fancy."

"She's mixing vodka with sprite." These statements make you laugh loudly. 

Tinder is just a distraction as you all sit on the couch, a good way to find an easy date for the night and when the he in question shows up, a black and white picture on the illuminated screen of your phone, it earns a shriek from your friends that go on and on about how hot he looks. 

"You should swipe right." Ela says, eyebrows dancing but you don't see it because you're busy rolling your eyes at your phone. Johnny stares at you. 

"He's my friend." You say as if it's obvious but it's really not. The word friend feels a little weird in your mouth but how else could you describe it? College was good for you in the social aspect, you have a lot of friends, people you talk to in class, or that you meet at parties because you ran in the same circles. It usually doesn't go deeper than that, than a blunt shared or a joke about a teacher, but that's friendship anyway you conclude.

And Johnny , well, he was someone you knew, not well, but sometimes he would text you a joke that made you laugh, ask for help with an assignment, talk to you about anything during a party. He was fun, a friend, and an acquaintance. Whatever, that didn't matter and honestly neither did the way you met, through a mutual friend at a kickback. It was that and nothing more. 

"Please, he flirts with you every chance he gets." Ela rolls her eyes right back at you. 

"He flirts with anyone, I think." You argue, because it's true. Johnny is one of those people that just have this aura to them, that can make anyone interested with just a few words. He's naturally flirty, that's something easy to point out. 

"Well he's hot." That too. 

"True." Nicole says and it earns a deep sigh from you.

Acting on impulse or peer pressure, you don't know exactly, but you swipe right and then nothing happens. So you shrug and throw your phone away to down another shot. 

✿

When you get to the party, it's already absolutely trashed, with freshmen spilling their drinks on the floor as some annoying EDM song blasts loud enough that you’re not very sure the thin windows of this house can handle. Frat parties were always the same, mildly boring and filled with people that didn't know how to act. It often escaped you the reasons why you continued to attend them. 

You and your friends dance a little, laughing when the songs change to one that is even worse than the first one. Ela, despite her words from earlier, finds a bottle of vodka and proclaims loudly that a night can never end badly when it starts with shots, a statement you strongly disagree with but you down it anyway when she offers it and then another one just for good measure. Because it’s a friday, you deserve a little fun, right? Right.

Too tired of dancing you had found a place on a couch that was probably too old. Johnny finds you there when the shots just start to hit and you feel bubbly, like you're on a cloud. 

"Hey there." He says with a blinding smile and if you weren't out of it you'd probably find it weird that he came to you, because most of the time you talked at parties was because you somehow ended up bumping into each other. 

"Hi." You reply, elongating the word more than necessary and it seems to amuse him. 

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?" He asks.

"Don't feel like dancing anymore." You say shrugging. "And what are you doing here sitting with me?" 

You watch as he laughs slowly and fishes for his phone in his pocket. "See, I wanted to show you something." 

It’s endearing, really, even more when his hand starts to wander, fingers barely ghosting your skin as he keeps his gaze glued to your face. 

He kisses you deeply, head tilted to the side as he holds you close with both hands on your cheeks and you can’t do anything but let him take control. Is when he sucks on your bottom lip that you have to let out the moan you had been holding, embarrassingly too soon and only urging him on even more as he licks at your lips, asking for entrance that you so gladly give, letting his tongue slide against yours slowly. The feeling of his hands moving to your leg makes your head spin and want for more.

He kisses the breath out of you, quite literally, and you both have to part to catch it back with silly smiles, gasps of air and pecks still being pressed on your lips. 

In your drunken haze, you smile when he rests his palm on your naked thigh, squeezing just slightly to test your interest. And you’re crazy, absolutely out of your mind because you show it by parting your legs just a little, just to tease, the smile never leaving your face as he mimics it with a subtle raise of his eyebrow. 

And god forgive you for being such a stupid horny girl that just falls gives in so easily, taking Johnny’s wandering hand in yours and dragging him to the closest place you can find, which happens to be someone's bedroom. How nice and polite of you. 

There’s not much beating around the bush. He pushes you into the bed, hovering over you and finally kisses you again, with hunger, hands on your neck and tongue sliding against yours in movements that are not shy from being desperate. And you love it, enough to have your mind swimming with the need to have him touch you anywhere that will make you feel good. 

When you grip at his hair a little too harshly, he lets out a moan that goes straight to the bubble of arousal on the pit of your stomach. He’s a sight, with puffy lips and hair a mess as he drops to his knees in front of you, something you weren’t exactly expecting but will definitely not complain about. 

He looks up at you, hands moving to rest at your thighs and oh, so gently parting them so he can fit in between. “Can I?” You almost die at the voice he asks for your consent in. 

You nod, head spinning a little when you move to help him get yours panties off, the offending cotton fabric being thrown somewhere inside this poor person's bedroom.

A couple of things happen afterwards. Johnny parts your legs further, placing a misplaced kiss on your inner thigh. Then he goes for it with a tentative lick, as if testing the waters and just slightly as if he’s a little unsure of himself. You blink slowly in expectation. 

“How do you like it?” The question makes you confused until you realize that he’s teasing you, a grin splattered across his face when you groan and try to move your hips but he keeps a grip on your legs. 

“Asshole.” You mutter in what sounds more like a whine. 

Which is a complete lie, because you’re already shivering in your skin and he knows that by the raise of his eyebrow in defiance. But still, your words spark something and he finally goes for it. 

The first press of his tongue flat against you has your hands moving to grip at the bed sheets. He works in a pace that clearly shows that he knows what he’s doing, swirling his tongue a little to tease and then licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit to gather the wetness there. 

He kisses your cunt the exact same way he did your lips, messily and desperate with the squelchy noises filling the room and setting your cheeks in heat from embarrassment. You don’t even need the long fingers he adds, slowly and then matching the pace of his sucks. 

It’s a very quick orgasm, in the sense that it doesn’t take you half the time you thought it would to happen. He does a little thing with his tongue, flicking your clit and you’re crying out with your body arching from the bed as he continues to eat you out as your body trembles. 

“Was I good?” He asks afterwards, words muffled because he’s still pressed against your bare center. He’s grinning, you can see it as well as the wetness that drips on his chin. 

You don't reply, instead you push him upwards and kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You can feel his erection press against your hip when he brings you closer and it makes you want more. 

He breaks the kiss then, palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb on the other side of your face as he keeps you looking at him. He likes being in control, you have realized that even in this short interaction, and you apparently liked giving it to him. 

You shiver when he brushes his thumb on your lips, getting them to part for him. “There you go, open your mouth.” He whispers, eyes glued to it. “Be good." 

Parting your lips, you lick at his thumb before you’re sucking it, earning a grunt from him that almost makes you smirk. You put on a show, trying to get him as worked up as you are, your eyes not leaving his face.

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He mutters, pressing his thumb on your tongue and you moan a little over it. “You want my cock on your mouth?”

You nod, smiling as he removes his wet finger from your mouth. “Yes.” Your voice is breathless, eyes glassy as you stare at him.

That earns you a smile and you feel a little pride in your chest. “That’s a good girl.” He taps your face. “Get on your knees then, baby. If you want it so bad.”

You do, positioning yourself in the middle of his parted thighs when he sits down on the bed and your mouth almost waters from anticipation.

Lifting his shirt a bit, you start by pressing kisses to his navel and he lets out a deep breath. Reaching down to unbutton his pants, you help him pull them down alongside his boxers and the sight of him hard for you is what really makes your mouth water. He's big in a way that you're sure you won't be able to fit it all inside without putting in some work. 

You tease him just a little bit, placing just the small kiss at the tip before licking it slowly. He’s far less patient then you are, hand immediately moving to grip your hair. “Put it in, baby, don’t be bad for me now.”

Parting your lips, you put him in your mouth, going as far as you can go, wrapping your hand on what you can’t reach. He moans lowly, curses falling from his lips.

He lets his head fall back when you swirl your tongue around, bobbing your head slowly the way he likes. “That’s it, baby. Takin’ me so well.” You hum around him, earning yourself another moan.

You try to get him as far as you can, swallowing when you reach your limit and he grips your hair tighter. You can feel him pulsing inside your mouth and it makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He comes on your face, painting your cheeks and making you gasp a little in shock. "Fuck, I'm sorry." He mumbles, quick to search for something to clean you up with. 

"It 's okay." You say, throat feeling sore and you try not to think about how that was the first time that ever happened for too long. "I liked it." 

That makes him give you a look, and then he's saying with a laugh "You'll be the death of me." 

act 2: ungodly hour

Maybe the fact that nothing really changes should be a sign by itself. 

Johnny still nods to you when you pass by him around campus, and still asks you to ‘help a guy out’ by sending him pictures of your notes like you guys are nothing but good almost-friends. Because, well, that’s what you are and that’s good enough for you. 

His face stays there on your tinder matches, no acknowledgement of it beyond his stupid joke back at the party happens and the only reminder you have of that night is the insatiable thoughts that cross your mind in the middle of a boring lecture. Because why would you pay attention to whatever your teacher is saying when you could remind bit by bit of how Johnny fucked you on his tiny dorm room, while maintaining a resting face.

Weirdly those memories don't hit you the next time you see him, because you’re too busy thinking about strawberry milkshake. 

The line behind you is not even that big, considering it’s 3am and most drunk college kids prefer to go to the burger king, but the cashier has an annoyed look on his face as your friend slowly reads the menu as if there’s plenty to choose from at a place like Mcdonalds. “Hmm, we’ll have two large fries, a coke and...” 

“A strawberry milkshake!” You try to go for whispering but it comes out louder and the cashier just hums. 

There's just something about being slightly shit faced at this hour and at this place, that makes it all seem like it's not actually happening. Like you are in a dream that only gets better when the server calls your number and you are sipping on the milkshake you kept on talking about since leaving the club you went on.  

Funnily enough, if this was in fact in a dream, it wouldn't be the first time Johnny showed up on one of yours.

He's sitting in a booth by himself, scrolling at his phone. His hair is pushed back by a snapback and your mind twirls for a second with the thought that he looks too good for someone who's here in an hour like this. 

Maybe it's the remnants of alcohol still buzzing on your system. Or maybe it is the fact that you seem to have been losing your self consciousness more and more these days. Whatever it is, it leads you to the stand in front of Johnny with a smile on your face and your hand freezing from holding the milkshake.

It doesn't take long for him to notice you, a smile that makes you feel warm inside ready on his lips as you take a place right across from him like it was meant for you all this time. 

"Hey there." He says, voice playful and you wonder if he had a few drinks himself before coming here. He must have had. "What's up?" 

You shrug, a smile painting your own lips. "Nothing much." You say and for some reason you feel silly, in a way that makes you want to scream a little from excitement. Like a teenage girl with a crush.  "Strawberry milkshake. You want some?"

Johnny laughs a little when you offer him the cup with the slightly bitten straw. "No, thank you. But it looks good."

"It is." You smile with lips closed around it. 

For a moment, but not an uncomfortable one, you two just stare at each other. The sweet taste of your drinks fills your mind and makes you feel a little less dizzier. 

"Had fun night?" 

"Hmm, not really. Sorority parties suck." He nods in agreement. Most parties sucked anyway, that's why everyone had to get so wasted to be able to enjoy it while the high lasted. You liked feeling pretty after getting ready more than the whole rest of it.  "What were you up to?"

"Got to DJ at this party with Mark, it was nice." He says it like it was no big deal, like it was something he did every other day. You had never actually seen Johnny play before, but from the way his instagram page was filled with posts about it and links to soundcloud songs, anyone could figure out it was at least a bit important to him. 

You found it weird, that you didn't know much about this or anything else about Johnny besides what he would let you know. And vice versa. But at the same time it's nice getting to know it bit by bit, without a rush.  

"That's really cool." Your voice is a little more excited than you expected it to be. "I really wanna see you play someday." 

"Sure." He smiles sideways. Bashfulness doesn't really suit him. "I'll let you know the next time."

You nod, then you share a look. Someone screams at their friend about something you don't really care about because you're too busy watching Johnny as he watches you finish your milkshake. Is it chemistry that people call this? Because there is nothing very appealing about the drink you're having, or about the white light at this place, but there's tension in the way you can't really look away. 

He looks like he wants to laugh but is too scared to break whatever is happening. You finish your milkshake with one last swallow of artificial sweetener and lick your lips. He finally breaks. 

"Stop looking at me like that." He says it in a way that suggests something that it's already as clear as water. 

You bat your eyelashes. "Like what exactly?"

He laughs, sweet and deep, then raises one eyebrow in challenge. "Like you want me to fuck you in the middle of this mcdonalds."

The scandalousness of the statement makes you laugh too, your words sounding half joke half true between smiles. "Well, maybe I want to."

"You don't really strike me as the type." He says it like he's unsure of it, like in the back of his mind he could actually believe you would do something as shocking as that. Truth be told, you don't even know it yourself. There's not a lot you have done when it comes to this and sometimes you even think back to him coming on your face, like it is the wildest thing that has ever happened. 

"I could be." He raises his eyebrow again, this time not as a challenge but as genuine curiosity. You would like to know whether that is true or false as well. 

Deep down you know that there are not many things you wouldn't let a guy like Johnny do to you. 

He laughs, then pauses for a second and taps his fingers on the table as if looking for something to say. "You should let me take you out someday." Is what he decides on. 

For some reason you don't think much of that at the moment. "You gotta take someone out before fucking them in public place?" You continue the joke, earning a low laugh and a head shake. 

"I'm being serious." 

How serious can someone really be at 4am with some alcohol on their system. This time you are the one raising your eyebrows, in pure doubt. He doesn't seem like the type who dates girls they fucked at a party once, or the type who dates girls like you. But thinking about it you don't really know what type of person Johnny is. Or what kind of girl you really are. 

You click your teeth before smiling. "We'll see about that."

act 2: la petit mort 

It’s not a text you get but instead a facebook invitation. It makes you laugh because men are truly all the same. Liking an old instagram picture, reacting with an emoji to something you post on stories. Never a message being straightforward, it’s like they are all physically incapable of that. You wonder if it’s because of fearing rejection. 

See, dating it's not really your thing, never has been and the proof can be found in your few failed attempts. It just made you nervous, constantly on edge because it always involved a lot of confusing moments, of not knowing where it's going or what the other person is thinking. People are usually bad at the most important thing when it comes to this, communication. And you hated to be either on the side of conflict or of creating expectations too early. 

But Johnny, well, he has got you interested. In a way that’s dangerous because it doesn’t happen very often, at least not with someone who seems interested as well or even the slightest bit possible.

And danger is not your area of expertise, not as of lately, but still you click on the green button and when saturday comes you’re walking inside a very underground party outside of campus. 

You know it's the right place because there's some people outside smoking and the door is slightly open. You walk inside the two floor flat, the small bottle of wine you had brought shaking a little in your bag while you pass some people.

There's music playing but the sound of conversations is louder than that. The scent filling the room is undeniably familiar and it makes you wonder if there's a least one sober person in the room at the moment. You had been to parties like this before, not nearly as loud as the ones that happened on campus and  with a lot less people. An amount that by the end of the night will have shrunk and the ones left will gather around the very old looking couch, share one last blunt and say unnecessary deep things and profess their deep affections for each other.

They were fun parties.

You don't talk to anyone because no one really attempts to talk to you first. That's just how you worked, social interactions never came as easy as it seemed to other people. You usually waited for people to approach and if they were nice you would cling to them. Sometimes you even practiced smiling in the foggy mirror after you showered. You practiced saying an icebreaker, smiling fakely after it, but you never really put it in practice.

You see Johnny before he sees you, surrounded by two boys that look particularly close. He looks effortlessly good, like he always does, with a black sweatshirt and light blue jeans. It makes you want to go there and hold his hand, lean against his chest, feel him loom above you and then kiss him in front of everyone as if it was normal, as if it meant nothing. You got this feeling a lot.

When he sees you he smiles big and makes his way to you with long and quick steps that don't take longer than three blinks from you.

"I thought you were going to DJ tonight." You say when he reaches you holding a bottle of beer. 

He shrugs, standing very close to you now. "Nah, this is not that kind of party." 

His eyes stay glued to you and you fight the urge to fix your hair. You wonder if he thinks you look good on the dress you chose. 

"Hmm, it's not the kind of party I thought I would ever see you on." You point out, looking around as someone screams asking for them to play some song by an artist you don't know. 

"To be honest this is much more my scene." He explains and this small piece of information he gives you about what he's really like makes you feel giddy for some reason. "The only reason I go to frat parties is because of Jaehyun."  

Jaehyun was a dude that played on the football team and looked too good for his own good. Him and Johnny were always together, like they would break if someone separated them. "So that's who you got this weird frat boy aura you got from." 

He laughs loudly. "Sure. But what about you? What's your scene?" 

You pretend to think for a while. "I don't really know. I like very specific things that I only know I'm actually enjoying at the moment." It's a pretentious reply that you hope he finds funny. 

He seems amused by it. "So, a moment type of girl." 

He takes a sip of his beer and you take that moment to get the bottle of wine out of your bag. He laughs at it, as if the thought of you carrying wine around is very funny to him. 

"Sure." You take a sip of your own.  "You seem very keen on figuring out what kind of girl I am."

You enhance your question by raising your eyebrows as he starts leading you to a small empty couch.  "Well, you're mysterious so I got to work with what I get." He says while sitting down and you follow, laughing because the last thing you would consider yourself is mysterious in any way.

"Trust me, you would get a lot more information if you just asked."

He nods, doing a whole scene of thinking of something to ask.  "Ok then, why psychology?" 

You almost laugh at the question because does anyone actually know why they chose their major? "I guess I like that the mind is the only thing that can understand itself." You say it in a pompous way so he knows you are not really that serious about that.  "What about you? Why did you choose business?" 

He looks forwards and moves as if to get more comfortable on the couch. It makes him get closer to you and your legs touch. "I don't know. Money, status, easier to get a job later on." 

That makes you snort. "I don't think right now getting a job is easy in any area." You pause to drink some and then say,  "You don't seem like someone who cares about those things, anyway."

He laughs just a little. "My parents do."  

By his voice you can tell he doesn't really want to talk about that. Not right now at least. 

"Well, at least when you are a famous dj the gossip magazines will be able to mention that you got a business degree you never used." 

He leans into you when he laughs.

✿

The rest of the party is fun. You meet some of Johnny's friends that are too high to keep an actual conversation but are fun enough that you have a good time. 

Johnny makes you laugh a lot and by the time you finish your wine you feel more drunk in his presence than on the alcohol itself. 

There’s just something about Johnny’s presence that makes your legs go a little weak and your heart beat just a little faster, like you have a silly crush. He’s just funny, in a way that comes natural to him, and he makes you feel special, seeming interested in the things you say in a way that has your heart swoon. And on top of all that, like he couldn’t get any more perfect, he’s a whole 6’0 of man, all broad shoulders and always looking down at you with cute smiles.

It doesn't take you two long to reach his dorm, or for you to get on his bed. And when it’s like this, with him hovering over you, thrusting into you in a pace that has you seeing stars, the effect he has on you becomes painfully obvious.

It’s kind of embarrassing, really, how having him on top of you makes you feel so small and safe. How him hitting so deep inside when he gives you a sharp movement of his hips turns your inside into jelly. And all you can do in return is look up at him with glossy eyes and parted lips.

“God, I dreamed of fucking you.” He knows what he’s doing. Even worse, knows how to get to you with just a few words. “Do you like it, baby?” He asks, voice hoarse and lips turning into a barely not there smirk.

“Huh?” Is what you can reply with because you’re way out of it to make sense of his words. It just makes his smirk grow wider, hands moving to grip at your thighs so he can get your legs to open wider.

When he fucks into you faster, his cock hitting the spot that has you absolutely and completely losing your mind, he tries again. “Do you like how — Fuck— How big I feel?” His words are barely a groan from being just affected as you are. He sounds cocky but in a way that makes your eyes cross.

And you nod, enthusiastically so, because you do. It makes you shy, saying it out loud, but he seems well aware how much you love having him inside of you, the feeling of being full, the only thing that swims around your mind.

“Hmm, can you feel me here?” This time the question is accompanied by his palm on your lower belly, where a hint of a bulge forms when he gives you a deep thrust.

“Y-Yes.” You practically wail, body tingling from being so close. “You feel so —- Ughnnn.”

His chuckle is a mix of laughter and a moan, his lips coming down on yours in a kiss that’s as messy as it is desperate. “Are you shy, hmm? C-Can’t even say you like my cock inside of you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ah. I like it. I like it so much.”

He groans deep in his chest, hips still working. “You’ll drive me crazy one day, know that?"

What he doesn’t say but you know it’s true, it’s that he likes it as much as you do.

✿

What it becomes, is something you don't know exactly how to describe. All you know is that you spend a lot of time in Johnny's dorm these days. So much that you decorated every detail from it, from the fancy music equipment to the posters on the wall.

He fucks you in every way possible and it's weird that someone could know exactly how to please you, how to get you screaming. And then the two of you talk for hours, something putting on something to watch on his notebook while sharing ice cream, other times just laying down in silence until you fall asleep. 

It's something you're not quite sure to navigate. How easy it feels when you are with him, and how right it feels. You two navigate this uncertain thing very smoothly and the need to put a name to it, asking the 'what are we' question escapes you often. 

Right now you two lay down on his small bed, bare legs touching and the thin sheet on top of you barely covers anything. It was a rare thing to feel this comfortable with someone. 

He's talking about something his mother said to him on the phone, about drinking green tea and you just listen, enjoying the sound of his voice until he stops and looks down at you with a small smile. 

"Every time I talk about my parents you get this look." He says and you make a weird face at him. 

"No I don't." You defend yourself and he chuckles. 

"You do." He accuses. "Are you analyzing my parental relationship?"

You scoff, turning around to face him better. "No. I'm just friendly, feeling sorrow because of the fact you didn't get to choose what to study." 

He looks back at you, looking soft with the late afternoon peeking in from his half closed window. "It's fine, really. I can study engine sound later on, there's no expiration. Besides, they did so much for me this is the least I can do." 

You fight the urge to point out that he doesn't really owe them anything. It was hard sometimes to make sense of the way other people navigated their parental relationships. So all you say is a small "Yeah…"

"What about your parents? What are they like?"

"I don't know. They are divorced, so I haven't really talked to my father in a while." You hope he doesn't see this as weird. Every time he talks about his family they seem so normal, that it makes you envy him a bit. You always think that if you talk about your parents, people will think you're somehow messed up because of it, so you always keep it short. Johnny doesn't seem to mind it. "My mom is cool, I guess. She's funny."

He hums "I would like to meet her someday." It sounds like a bold statement. Something that means something, but he says with an ease that makes the thought of it seem pleasant. You realize you would like that to happen as well. 

"She would like you." Is what you say with as much ease as he did. 

A comfortable silence feels the room then, with only the low sound of the fan turning filling your ears. You don't think about how the room smells like sex, or about how summer is approaching and you'll probably not be able to see each other for a while.

"Are you going home for the summer?" You decide to ask. 

 He turns to look at you again. "Yeah, what about you?"

"I'm gonna start my internship. Work on my thesis." You had talked about both these things before, how important they were for you and the mention of it makes him smile. 

"That's really nice." He says and you give him a tiny smile. 

You swallow a lump in your throat then, the 2 months you'll stay apart hitting you and you just let the words escape your mouth. "I'm gonna miss you. Really."

He says it back by kissing you, softly and then with meaning. It happens naturally after that, like there wasn't anything else that made more sense than being as close to each other as possible right now. 

When he enters you, you look up at him in what you think is awe. Your eyes hazy, barely able to keep open and lips parting in yet another moan. 

It’s a nice view, in your defense, of Johnny hovering over you, looking so big  as he fucks you so well you’re sure your second orgasm of the night is already approaching. You’re not embarrassed to say that most of the times this happens you go a little dumb in the head, your mind swimming in the gooey feeling of pleasure and all you can think about is him. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. 

“Oh, oh… oh my god.” You sigh dreamily yet broken enough that it makes him smile when a sharp thrust makes your hips raise a little. He’s always proud of being able to get you like this, to be the only one who does so.

He hums as if agreeing with a very thorough statement, moving his arms so he can press his chest to yours as he fucks into you with calculated thrusts . You can barely move with his weight on top of you, with how he seems to lock you in place with his hips and it’s enough for another broken sob to fall from your lips.

“Good?” He asks in a groan and with a nice slide of his cock inside of you to punctuate the question. You nod frantically because he’s as deep as he can get, knows this very well, and the feeling is something that makes you flutter around him in the desperate need to come. 

He kisses your cheek then, two sweet but filthy enough with his heavy exhales against it. His pace never gets too fast, just hinting at it but he maintains a speed that leaves you on the brink of your release. But, you only reach it when he pinches your clit with his fingers, circling it until your lips part in a silent scream and you’re coming again.  

And the sounds he makes when your walls squeeze just a little more than he can handle are something else. A deep groan and a pained little sob that you find extremely endearing and hot at the same time, his face contorting as he quickened his pace just enough to push him over the edge, finally coming inside of the condom. 

“You look so pretty like this.” He’ll say afterwards when he’s still inside of you, too lazy to move as you brush the hair out of his face. 

And you’ll smile, in the way he seems to like so much, and say “You look pretty all the time” just to get him to smile at you.

 act 3: yellow light  (hit the brakes) 

The rain was predictable. It had been raining every other day the entire month, on your way to work early in the morning you always ended up stepping on a pool and ruining your entire day because of your wet socks.

Not a lot of the people you knew had a car, or would willing to go out of their way to give you a lift. Your finger had hovered on top of Johnny’s contact for a while, not out of confidence that he would help you because you knew he would. But you hadn't really talked since summer started. There were random interactions, like replying to one of his instagram stories commenting on how intelectual posting pictures at The Louvre made him look and him making a joke about it or sharing a trivia about french people. 

Besides, bothering people made you uncomfortable, as if that somehow put you in debt and in a state of vulnerability with the person.

But Johnny doesn’t look like he’s going to hold a grudge against you over a lift. Instead, when you apologize for making him come all the way there, he says “I was in the area anyway.”

Which you doubt, but you don’t say anything so you just smile and thank him again.

It's somehow weird that you don't even expect him to mention what happened last term. You fight the urge to say it out loud, mention a small detail about the whole thing  just for him to laugh and somehow confirm to you that it really happened. It scared you sometimes how things were so momentary, as if life was supposed to be just a collection of things you would remember about and feel sad about. 

But it’s easy with Johnny, had been from the start. In a way that makes you think that some people are really meant to meet if only for a moment.

You had expected the casual friendship you had with the other friends you had met at college to fade slowly, which had happened. Without the bond of parties and fun there wasn’t much left there, and that was fine, you were never really lonely because you didn’t have a lot of time to be. Your mind was also set in a routine and state of tiredness that anything out of that seemed to set it in a frenzy and it would just shut down, making it hard to make conversation naturally.

Work was usually quiet, but sometimes the girl that was also accepted for the internship would try to strike conversation about her thesis and while she was talking your gaze would be focused forward while your mind went somewhere else. She never pointed that out, probably because she just wanted to talk and not really listen. You were fine with that.

But with Johnny the silence is not the kind that makes you wonder if you should say something. You think that if you were to get in a daze right now he would try to pull you out, ask what you were daydreaming about, or maybe that’s you building your other life, the one you think about before going to sleep.

You watch the window wipe, swiping away the raindrops as Johnny picks a song. It’s just a little past 6 but the clouds make it look much later.

“How is the internship going?” Johnny asks after he sets on a song you don’t really know.

You shrug. Not long ago you had told him how excited you were for this, as if you thought your life would start with this idealized career you had created in your mind. At the time having to watch people your age sign forms about how depressed they are didn’t seem that bad. “It’s fine, not that busy at night so I get to work on my thesis when they give me those shifts.”

That involves a lot of reading multiple times the same page of articles written by pretentious men that think using difficult sentences makes them smarter. You think your advisor expects the same from you, fancy nomenclature but the human mind is already complicated enough by itself.

“And how is that going?” Johnny has no idea what you’re writing about, no one actually does. Sometimes you even doubt yourself, does it really matter to talk about something that feels so specific to your reality? Because it does seem like everyone else is doing a good job at living and not feeling like they are disconnected from reality.

You scoff and shake your head missing the way his lips corners lift just a little. “The best way it can, I suppose.”

“Good enough.” He says in his cheerful voice. “When are you going to become that kind of person that can't stop talking about what they are studying?"

That makes you laugh a little. If there was something you were familiar with, it was people who loved to talk about their thesis as if they would come up with the solution to all of the world's problems. "I don't think that really suits me." Just mentioning it made you actually a little sick.

"Yeah, because you are mysterious and all."

And there it is. Just this small reference to a past conversation you had with him, alone in your small dorm room, makes you feel giddy. You could even blush if you thought hard enough about it. 

"Exactly, a box of surprises." You say, in a funny voice and his laugh makes you smile. 

Outside the rain is still going strong and you can see students running around trying to find shelter while laughing and using their backpacks as improvised umbrellas. The sky is completely dark now and it makes you want to be in bed, safe and sound. 

You go to ask Johnny about his summer in France, but he beats you to it. He had always been better at conversations, anyway.

"I saw that friend of yours, Ela I think." He mentions casually.  "She's dating a friend of mine."

You knew that because of the numerous pictures on your instagram feed, but for some reason you pretend to be mildly surprised "Oh really? I haven't really talked to her in awhile." A shrug. "We don't have much in common, turns out." 

He hums sympathetically. "Yeah that makes sense. But they both seem happy."

"Yeah." The topic doesn't really interest you. You can't barely remember a time where your past friends' love lives had any affect on you, now it's just a piece of information you'll forget about in a few hours. 

"What about you, seeing anyone at the moment?" The question makes you raise both your eyebrows as you let out a laugh that sounds suspicious. It's a weird thing for him to ask but at the same time not really. 

You sigh and he looks at you with a funny face, as if he's amused. I don't think I have the energy for that. What about you?" 

He shrugs, turning his face to the front again. "Not really."

Months ago you think you would have made a flirty commentary about that. Something along the lines of 'That's good, I get jealous easily.' and it would have made him laugh. But now you just hum, not out of interest but because you are not sure how you would react to the potential outcome. 

It should've felt obvious that he would somehow mention your relationship. You always thought that when you two talked about it, it would be bringing up the months you would see each other every day, and how you spend more time at his place than at your own. But what he says is, "Remember when you refused me?" 

He says it in a funny voice, like old friends reminiscing on the past. You get confused with the pace of the conversations and ask "What?" 

"At McDonalds. I asked you out and you said 'We'll see about it.'" He says it laughing, which means he's not hurt by that. 

"I didn't think you remembered that." You mutter, because you really didn't. "And please, I wasn't rejecting you." 

The last part is a lie. At the time you didn't think he was serious about it. Now, you don't know exactly what you think.

"Right, right. When you put me down nicely."

That makes you roll your eyes, laughing alongside him. "Yeah, right." 

When the laugh dies down you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. You feel a weird sensation in your chest. 

"Why did you?" He asks, voice not much more serious but the question has weight that his past sentences didn't have. 

You could tell him the truth, of what kind of person you thought he was and how that changed. You definitely couldn't open up about what kind of person you were. So you settle for this: "I don't know, I think.. I mean, I'm not sure we would have worked out back then." 

He hums loudly, then clicks his tongue.  "Yeah. I don't know either." His voice is soft then, mixing perfectly with the muted rain sound and the song still playing. "You can never know."

You turn your face to look at him. There's no way to do it without him noticing that you are staring, but you do it without a hint of shame.

If you thought about it hard enough, about everything that happened, you would still not be able to point out exactly what would have happened if something more serious took place. And that's a weird thing to think about, because there was never a point in your relationship where neither of you decided it was meant to be casual, that's just how it turned out to be. 

Later at night you will think about how there's nothing really casual about the way you can perfectly picture Johnny when you close your eyes, laying on your bed shirtless, hair a mess and face illuminated by the sun peaking out your window. How there's nothing casual at all about the fact that it has never felt like it did with anyone else.

But now, you just look at him with your heart ready to burst and you say. " We should watch a movie together someday."  

He laughs, looks at you for a second and says "Yeah, we should."

act 4: what’s going on? 

You didn’t feel particularly fond of mondays. Having to let go of the leisureliness of the weekend behind and welcome another week ahead never felt like a good idea when your phone alarm would start ringing at 7am.

It's not that the weekend was much better than that. All you ever did was read books that made your head ache for hours and then write never ending paragraphs that you hoped would make sense for anyone besides yourself. It was easy to become some sort of alienated when you stayed focused inside your room for so long, and having to remember that there was a whole life outside was a little painful. 

When you walk inside the clinic the sound of the coffee machine being turned on reaches your ears and you mutter a small good morning to the psychiatrist that usually took the morning shifts. She was tall and always looked put together with a blazer jacket and red lipstick. Her friendly face made you suspicious for some reason. 

"Good weekend?" She asks as you place your things on the front desk and you spare a smile to make her think you are interested in talking about your weekend. 

"Yeah, sure." You turn on the old computer they got for you to use. A blue screen greets your eyes, then it glitches for a second like it always does. "What about you?"

It might sound like you're not a very nice person if you say you don't really care how her weekend went. Or that you would wish the conversation would have stopped at the greeting. But you really don't. These days talking to people takes a lot of effort and most of the time you wish you'd be just swallowed by silence and left alone. 

"It was great, thank you." She says while adding sugar to her coffee. You are sitting down now and she turns to look at you with a sympathetic face. "Listen, I have a free spot this morning, if you'd like to talk a little." 

You blink slowly, taking a moment to process the words she said, but it really doesn't take a genius to understand she's offering you counseling. Most likely because she thinks you need it. 

And you're not about to argue that you don't, because you more than anything else know that you do, but you feel like you're not ready for it yet. As if you have things to figure out first. "Oh, that's very nice of you to offer." You say, uncertain how exactly to handle this. "But I have some things to get done."

The lie is accepted easily but she still raises her eyebrow a little. Still, she says. "Alright, then. Just remember I'm one door away."

You thank her, smiling politely until she finally leaves to her office. The computer is still loading and you let out another deep sigh, considering drinking a cup of coffee but deciding against it to not trouble your anxiety any more.

What happens next couldn't possibly be predicted. You take your phone out of your bag and open instagram out of habit, to pass some time. Johnny's profile is still the first one that shows up on the stories board, probably from all the time you spent messaging each other in the past. 

It had been a while since you two talked to each other, but you kept up with his whereabouts from looking at the pictures he posted with friends and of random things. More often than not you fought the urge to reply to them, as if you didn't really know each other anymore. 

You don't expect to see him with a girl when you click on his photo. But there he is, with arms around her and a single heart. You tap on to the next one and it's a repost from someone else's instagram, of a picture of him and the girl kissing while laughing. 

There's a few words you can use to describe how you feel. Your heart drops and you go cold, blinking very slowly as the pictures change to another person's stories and for a second it's like it didn't happen. Like it was just a trick of the eye. 

Would it be silly to cry over this? You think it would so you take a deep breath and try to not think about it anymore. 

✿

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that you probably loved him. Or at least felt a deep kind of infatuation. Sometimes at night you lay in bed and wonder what exactly went wrong and you can't really find an answer to that. It just naturally happened. 

Maybe you should have said something, maybe if you did things would've stayed the same. You wish that at the time you knew what to say but now it was a little too late. 

You stare at your blank ceiling, your skin tingling where it touches you sheets. Looking at couples always made you feel weird, with jealousy maybe because you never thought that was something for you. Being in love has always been something that other people got to experience, and you got to watch it but never try it for yourself. 

Maybe there was something wrong with how you worked, how you viewed this whole thing. You wish you knew what so you could fix it.

Sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine someone wrapping arms around you, with a familiar cologne that makes you feel at home. the person doesn’t complain when you hug them tighter, probably knows this is what you need.

You think of all the men you had dated, the ones who disappeared out of nowhere and the ones who treated you like shit because you allowed it. You didn't really know how it really had to work until you met Johnny.

It had never felt like that. Gentle and soft and easy. 

How to separate true loneliness from the mere need to feel something, to have someone want you? That’s a trick question and you think about it until you fall asleep.  

✿

For you last month in college, you don’t do much. 

The internship ends with the old lady that was in charge of the clinic telling you what an amazing job you did, and how she knows for sure you will exceed in the area. She writes a beautiful recommendation letter, mentions a few professional names and then sends you away. 

A week before its deadline you send out your finished thesis to your advisor, after spending half an hour staring at your email until you can press send. You got a reply two hours later with pleasantries and a date for your final presentation. 

As you wait for it there's nothing a lot to do. Some days you walk around campus without a real destination in mind, stopping by the cafeteria and the library on your way. There's not many people around this time of the year, most have gone already and the ones that stayed spend time rehearsing for presentations or hanging out with friends.

You get texts from people you haven't talked to in months, wishing you good luck and inviting you to parties that you attend once or twice just to get one last taste of it. 

It’s weird that you don’t feel the deep sense of realization you thought you would. You lay down on the small bed you slept on for two years, stare at the empty walls of your dorm now that you’ve put all your things away, and you feel almost normal. Sure there’s a little ball of emptiness and excitement on your stomach alongside pride for finishing this and for having grown up so much since freshman year. But besides that you just feel normal. 

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such. 

Your presentation goes well, you don’t trip over your words and your teachers compliment your great work afterwards. You cry, in front of a bunch of people you don’t know, and let out a deep breath of relief. 

Ten days later you graduate, wearing the usual attire and walking on stage with a smile on your face when your name is called. No one screams your name or cheers loudly because plane tickets were too expensive for your parents to attend. The claps from your classmates are still nice. 

You don’t expect to see Johnny there, but he shows up wearing a suit that looks alien compared to the clothes he wears daily. He looks good, familiar and it makes a lump form on your throat.

You hadn’t really talked to each other in a while. It had been a natural thing to happen, for the two of you to fall a little apart. But still, when he waves at you, you make your way to him easily. 

“Finally got your ticket out of this place, huh?” He jokes with a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mimic. 

“Yeah, I’m finally free.” You joke back. 

You inhale softly when he hugs you, so close that you can hear his heartbeat. He surrounds you with him and you think you would drown right now if he allowed you to. “Congratulations, ____.” He says quietly, almost whispering your name.

You’re both smiling when you part. “Soon it’ll be you.” 

Before he can reply a familiar face makes her way to where you two are. Johnny circles her waist when she gets close enough and you fight as to not let your smile fall. He introduces her as his girlfriend, a biomedicine student that smiles big when she congratulates you on graduating and expresses how she can’t wait for her turn to come. 

She’s very pretty is what you keep thinking about as you make small talk that feels a little painful. 

After some time Johnny says “Well, we should leave you to go talk to your family. It was really nice to see you, ____.”

His words sound genuine and you smile when he hugs you again. 

You don’t tell them there’s not really anyone you know for you to talk to. Instead, you walk to your dorm with your heels clicking on the asphalt. 

act 5: old friend / late spring

Your feet hurt a little from standing too much and not even the coldness of the beer you’re having can make you ignore it. 

The truth is that you really wanted to be home right now, eating leftovers while you watched a movie. But instead, you’re in the bar your colleagues always attended after work to share a laugh and complain about mundane things while enjoying the 2 for 1 deal they had on friday for happy hour. 

Working in an office with people wearing suits hadn’t been what you had envisioned  yourself doing two years after graduating. You had always dreamt of having your own clinic, becoming a therapist or even working at a hospital. But times were hard and the human relations department of a marketing company had been what you had to go for. 

It’s not as boring as it sounds, and you get to know about every gossip firsthand so you settle for it very easily. But having to be at a bar after a whole tiring week was not on your favorites list.

You excuse yourself from the group when they start talking about something you were tired of hearing. A gossip about the boss sleeping with someone from the finance department that you knew about months ago. 

You walk to the bar, cursing your heels until you finally sit on a stool, ordering another beer that you know is gonna be your last before you decide to escape. There’s loud conversation happening all around you and a song playing over it. Your back hurts a bit and you wonder when life has become so mundane. 

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man that sits right next to you until he’s ordering a beer and the voice seems familiar. 

Your heart jumps out of your chest when you look at him and Johnny stands there in all his glory, with blonde hair and a very fancy suit. “Oh my fucking god.” Is the only thing you manage to mumble.

For a second you think you might be dreaming, but when he turns and looks at you his face contorts in the most amusing expression of surprise. 

Maybe this is what being alive is, experiencing life changing moments and not feeling like they mean much. Maybe some moments are just meant to be remembered as special, and not lived as such. 

The two of you hug while laughing and he keeps muttering something that sounds like a ‘no way.’

“I can’t believe this! What are you doing here?” You ask excitedly and he laughs. 

“I’m working on a office a few blocks from here.” He explains. “Just started a few days ago.” 

“I work around here too.” You exclaim and it’s like you could buzz from how excited you feel about this. 

You talk about things easily, both sharing what you have been doing for the past years. 

“This is crazy. I haven’t heard from you since college.” He says and it makes you freeze, blinking slowly but it doesn’t last long until you are covering your surprise by chuckling. Suddenly you’re hit with memories from those years and everything that happened between the two of you. Your eyes meet his and it strikes you that he’s probably thinking the same thing as you are. 

You shake your thoughts away, leaning on the counter with one elbow and then resting your face on your palm. “Who would’ve thought we would reunite after those years in a sketchy bar.” You joke, in a playful tone to keep the conversation going. 

He chuckles, bringing his hand to his face before he replies. “I would have never guessed this was your kind of scene.” 

The way he says it makes you snort. “It’s definitely not.” 

“Yeah.” He nods while laughing, “Still a moment kind of girl then?”

You nod then, making an amused sound while you take a sip of your beer. “Seems to me like you still got me all figured out.” 

“Do I? I used to think that I did but after all it happened I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He says avoiding your eyes a little and a lump forms on your throat. “To be honest I don’t really understand what happened.” 

You nod, turning to face him. “I think it wasn’t the right time.” It’s what you decide to say and he hums. 

“When is ever the right time for anything?” He asks and it makes you laugh loudly. 

You share a look then, one that says more than you could ever do with words. He smiles and then you smile back, like old friends would. “Maybe we met again for a reason.” 

Deep down, you know this is one of those moments happening. One that you’ll look back on the future and remember that it is where it all began. Again.

#johnny scenarios #JOHNNY SMUT #nct smut #nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #i honestly think this is bad lol #but well ENJOY

[sweetbyte]

guilty 

bakumomo - rated m

chapter one | chapter 2 | ao3

chapter 3 

He’s never been more fucked in his life and he’s not even sure in what sense. Literally, figuratively or perhaps both.

Bakugou doesn’t realize that his hands have idly been tracing patterns on Yaoyorozu’s back until she sighs in contentment. She returns the gesture by running her hands along his sides in a soothing motion as best as she can from her position. She’s still draped over him from when she collapsed after she fucked herself limbless on his cock and he’s still debating if this is some fantasy he’ll be waking up from remembering how they landed on her bed.

It had started in the kitchen. He doesn’t remember who moved first but it ended up with him eating her out on the counter. They somehow migrated to her couch where he tried to give her an out trying to be a fucking gentleman for once instead of taking her against the wall. She rode his thigh until he felt her wetness seep through the dress pants he was still in from the night before all the while confirming very clearly that she was not opposed to the wall, not in the slightest.

So to the wall they went and he finally entered her, from behind no less. He fucked her so hard that she struggled to stay on her toes trying to meet his thrusts. Not even in battle did he feel such a desperate frenzy.

It slowed down when they made it to her bed. Be it the adrenaline rush coming to its end or the intimacy associated with the bedroom, he gave her a gentleness even he couldn’t explain. He let her take the wheel and sat back for the ride until she was practically begging him to come with her. And he did, clutching her thighs with such force he was certain they’d be bruised for days. Good. He saw nothing but blinding whiteness as his senses left him only coming to when she collapsed on top of him.

He’d let his mind wander, not used to dealing with the after math of having sex with a childhood…acquaintance? They weren’t friends, not really. She probably would call them friends. But everyone was her friend, everyone had wanted to be her friend. No, all of his sexual encounters had been to the point and over, no lingering, no cuddling. He’d always been clear when looking for a lay and yet here he was, basking in a post coital haze.

“You are thinking entirely too loudly, one would argue that is my role.” His hand freezes over her spine and he feels his mind start to overload trying to come up with the best course of action.

“Seriously, I’m starting to smell burning rubber. I think one fire scare is enough.” Yaoyorozu teases again, this time pinching his side causing him to scoff.

“There he is.” She snickers, pinching his other side. He answers with a snarled “Quit it!” Before he can stop, he smacks her ass in retaliation and his eyes widen momentarily at her reaction. Yaoyorozu let out something of a surprised yelp crossed with the many sounds of delight he’s committed to memory from just an hour or so prior. She makes an effort to hide her face but he can feel her heartbeat quickening from her position on top of him.

“I would have never pegged you to be this kinky, Yaoyorozu.”  He smirks as his hand soothes the cheek he struck feeling her breath catch by his neck. “Some would say its my role, being this insatiable.”

“I can’t say this is a norm for me.” Her response is breathless as he resumes gliding up and down her spine.

“Ah, so you don’t seduce men into your bed on a regular. Good to know.” Despite his teasing, some ridiculous part of him is relieved. Relieved she doesn’t do this often, that he’s not just a scratch on her bed post. The twisted irony, like he has the right to know her sexual history. She’s her own person, so is he.

“I don’t! This really was not my intention either.” She huffs and its unfair really, how she can look so innocent with his come still dripping from between her thighs. And maybe he does know her better than what he had originally thought. Maybe he did pay attention to her in school to know what she’s trying to say without speaking, what she’s trying to get him to ask.

“What was this?” What is this? Is it something? Is it nothing? What am I?

Her eyes meet his and there’s an intensity that he cannot explain. He understands why so many people fawn over her. He might have persuaded to jump off a cliff for her.  Might have…

“A chance.” She finally says after she’s done soul searching him as well. “A shot in the dark.”

“Did you make the shot?”

The corner of her lip twitches as she leans closer to him until she’s a breath away.

“You tell me.”

And suddenly he’s breathless, he doesn’t know what to say.. doesn’t know what to do. So his hand moves to the back of her head tangled in her hair to hold her in place as he slowly leans up to kiss her. This feels right. Her lips on his, her body pressed on his, her heartbeat against his. Her and him. He should really be concerned, its only been one day and he feels like a fucking addict.

Yaoyorozu mewls as she pulls away with that damned flushed look on her face, but it’s the brightness of her eyes that catches his attention this time.

“We should get cleaned up and maybe find something to eat.” She mutters as she looks at the clock on her night stand.

“Worked up an appetite , did you?” He snorts and she nips his throat and whispers “something like that” before pulling away and out of the bed completely.

“As long as we order out, I don’t trust you in the kitchen.” He retorts as he lounges on her bed enjoying the view of her puttering around her room naked as she gathers some clothes. It feels so domestic he wants to puke.

She pouts. “I’m not that bad.” “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“I am going to take a shower.” It comes out as a question. The question being ‘are you joining me?’. Only an absolute moron would say no.

He doesn’t miss the way her eyes track his movement tracing the lines of his body. “I’m going to need a change of clothes, somebody ruined my pants.”

She turns to avoid his smirk and begins to walk towards the bathroom while he trails behind her shamelessly staring at her backside. They don’t fool around in the shower, but its so intimate that it make him want to explode. He’s never been on the receiving end of someone so attentive. He has never let himself be.

She finds him something to wear as apparently she’s still somewhat of a mother hen and has had countless friends crash at her house under her care. He waits for some shitty feeling to pop out like jealousy, possessiveness or even resentment at the multiple people in her life but it doesn’t. She doesn’t owe him anything and yet she chose him.

They eat and fall asleep on the couch but it eventually gets late. He’s too proud to admit that he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want the spell to be broken, the awkwardness to set in from the outside world.

He makes himself change back into his own clothes and lingers by the door after she scurries off to do something asking him to wait for her. The rolling in his gut has him considering running out the damn door. He’s not used to this shit.

But then she steps out dressed casually with a backpack on her shoulder with a brilliant smile on her face. “I’m ready.”

“What?”

She shakes her head at his confusion and takes his hand. “I was serious about taking my shot. You’ll tell me if I’m being too forward?”

Yaoyorozu bites her lip in nervousness as she studies his face waiting for him. To do something. To say anything.

“This shit is new to me.” He answers honestly but slowly intertwines their fingers together. ‘But I’ll try.’

She nods in understanding, a relieved look on her face as she squeezes her hand. “Let’s go.”

A/N: Better late than never. School and work threw me through a loop, but I was determined to finish this this month unlike my other pending fics. Poor things. Did change the rating, just in case. I don't understand the difference between M and Explicit yet. Hopefully it doesn’t seem too rushed. I like the idea of Bakugou struggling with the concept of feeling affection, or maybe I’m just projecting. Anywho, thank you for reading!

#jots #bakumomo #my jots #My writing #its very mature in this chapter #kind of

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH41

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 41: Star Death Reality Show (XXIV)

For a long time, Qi Leren couldn’t find the ability to think.

He seemed to be a poor man petrified by magic, just sitting in a chair, watching the system prompt gradually disappear from the screen.

Ning Zhou was dead?

Dead. Qi Leren couldn't put this cold word on Ning Zhou. Even if it was just in his imagination, he couldn’t accept it.

His trachea seemed to be blocked, and Qi Leren felt that he had returned to the sea, feeling the pain caused by suffocation in the increasingly strong water pressure. He couldn't breathe and couldn't escape. The oppressive darkness and death surrounded him, tormented him, and made him unable to endure for even one second.

He had to go to Ning Zhou! He had to bring him back from Purgatory!

He had always been used to waiting passively, indulging his interia and dependence as he waited, comforting himself. This was the best way, but he didn't expect that some people, some things, he couldn’t wait for. The anxious sense of urgency weighed heavily on his shoulders; just like when he had used the Prophet's Heart, a huge clock kept counting down behind him.

Counting the seven days after his death, today was the twenty-fourth day after his resurrection. There were only five days left for him. He had to hurry back and bring Ning Zhou back, otherwise...

Qi Leren couldn't think of what followed.

Don don don— When a knock on the door sounded, Qi Leren was startled and hurriedly closed the laptop. At the moment it closed, it disappeared out of thin air. Thankfully he had turned off the invisible camera that followed him, otherwise he really didn't know how to explain all this.

A skill card was lying quietly on the computer desk. Qi Leren had no time to think about it. He put the skill card in the item bar and asked loudly, "Who’s there?"

When the door opened, Du Yue stood outside looking surprised. "You’re really here?"

This was a strange question. Qi Leren felt strange when he heard it: "How did you know I was here?"

Du Yue scratched his head, a little muddled and a little confused, and said, "There’s a very strange gentleman... I don't know where he came from... He showed me the way and said that you were here."

A chill penetrated Qi Leren's back and cold sweat flowed down. Qi Leren's hand was shaking. If he didn't deliberately control it, his voice would tremble. The familiar fear returned to him; even if he just thought the name of that person, he would feel terrible.

A person who suddenly appeared and knew him like the back of his hand, a person who could access and even interfere with the copy, a… terrible person.

He had come here again for the secret hidden in this laptop.

"Where is he?" Qi Leren asked slowly.

"He said he would be at the lowest level of the institute. Qianbei, is he a survivor of this planet? Did they not leave here, but lived underground or something?" Du Yue, who didn't know Su He, never thought of the man’s real identity, but thought he was a part of this copy.

Qi Leren took a deep breath, shook his head, and got up and walked out of the room.

"What about the others? Have you spoken with them?" Qi Leren asked.

"We split up just now," Du Yue said in a depressed way.

Qi Leren didn't ask any more questions and walked quickly towards the safe corridor. Since Su He wanted to see him, he had to bite the bullet and go, but this time he had no Easter Eggs. If Su He made him choose between life and death again...

I should make an agreement with him, Qi Leren thought. He absolutely couldn’t die here. If he died, Ning Zhou would be fated to follow that terrible path, leading to the abyss of death. He couldn't watch Ning Zhou die.

If Ning Zhou became a demon, he would accompany him.

If the world wouldn’t let them be together, then they would go to hell together.

He wasn’t afraid, because nothing was more terrible than losing him.

But if Su He insisted on killing him... Qi Leren stopped on the stairs, turned to Du Yue, and said, "I have something to ask of you."

"Qianbei, please say it, I’ll do it!" Along the way, because of Qi Leren’s dignified expression, Du Yue felt nervous, thinking he may have made some big mistake. Now that he heard that his qianbei wanted to make a request, all he had to do was clap a hand to his chest and promise.

"Don't follow me later, do everything possible to protect your own safety. If I die, go back to the Village of Dusk and find a woman named Chen Baiqi..." As Qi Leren spoke, he took out a pen and paper and quickly wrote about Ning Zhou, then handed it to Du Yue.

Du Yue opened his mouth and looked ready to cry. "Is it that dangerous? Qianbei, don’t go!"

"There are some things that can't be escaped," Qi Leren said. Su He had come in person, and it would take him only minutes to kill everyone in the copy. He didn't even have the cards to negotiate with him. It was simply a fantasy to avoid him. "If you find Dr. Lu, don't get separated from him. Although he’s often confused, he’s still very lucky. That person should not be interested in killing you... I’m leaving, you should be careful."

Du Yue gawked at Qi Leren. He really was crying. A big and strong boy who was only eighteen years old could not hold back his tears when faced with life or death, and he took Qi Leren's hand with a face of snot and tears and refused to let go.

Qi Leren had to comfort him with a white lie: "Don't worry, this is only the worst case. Generally, I’m lucky and won't die."

Du Yue was dumbfounded: "But Dr. Lu said that your luck level falls below the alphabet."

“………………”

Qi Leren, who had been exposed, finally just pushed Du Yue out of the stairwell and continued to go down. As the floor numbers dropped, he entered deeper and deeper underground, and the surrounding air became colder and colder. Even wearing temperature regulating clothes, it still made Qi Leren feel stiff all over.

As he walked, Qi Leren looked at the skill card that had been left after the laptop disappeared.

[Sophisticated Lawyer: A cunning lawyer should avoid the traps in the contract and do everything possible to help their client, who has paid enough in legal fees to avoid contracts that are not beneficial to them. If you sign a contract with anyone after equipping this skill card, that contract can't bind you, but a payment of 130 survival days will be consumed. Remaining usages: 1/1]

Qi Leren's face turned green. He worked hard with the Devil of Fraud to save 147 survival days, but this would take 130 days at once?! If this skill card was used and his identity was revealed in this copy... Very good, he would be directly obliterated because of insufficient survival days.

But he knew in his heart that if "it" would give him this thing, it was already hinting that he… he would need this skill card.

Just like the Easter Egg.

Qi Leren looked at this skill card with mixed feelings and inserted it into the card slot.

He had already reached the 13th floor underground. The depth of this underground research institute was really shocking. At present, he faced the exit of the stairwell. Qi Leren hesitated outside the door for a while before fearfully pushing it open.

Ahead of him, there was a cold and featureless metal corridor, dark and lacquered, and the range of a flashlight was limited. Where light couldn't reach, the deep darkness was like a beast's open jaws, waiting for him to trap himself.

Qi Leren let out a mouthful of hot air that condensed into a thin cloud of white smoke in the extremely low temperature air.

He stepped out of the stairwell.

Light suddenly hit his eye, and the sudden light blinded his eyes with whiteness, but the fresh air and warm temperature from the tip of the nose made him realize that he was no longer in the cold underground research institute.

Sure enough, when his sight returned to normal, the ethereal and clean world around him made him hold his mouth tightly shut.

The blue sky was endless, and there was one white island after another floating around him, unable to discern if they were white clouds or floating islands. Pigeons flew from the direction where the sun was rising, and the whole world was immersed in the hope of dawn. Who could have guessed that this was a Devil’s field?

Qi Leren stood on the tower of the floating island, where he had once come and had a friendly conversation with the Devil of Fraud.

At that time, Su He had said that this was the Village of Dawn in his memory, and he had projected the ideal hometown into his own field. Qi Leren didn't know whether this sentence is true or not, but if he thought deeply, he couldn't help but feel fear for the truth of the Village of Dawn—was the so-called Village of Dawn itself not this Devil’s field?

"Good morning, lost lamb." A hoarse and charming voice came from behind Qi Leren, which scared Qi Leren into turning around quickly.

On this terrace that had been empty only a few seconds ago, there appeared a woman holding a white porcelain tray, as if she had appeared out of thin air.

This was the sexiest woman Qi Leren had ever seen. This was so even though her hair was tied in a meticulous bun and she was dressed in a high-necked black dress, her whole body covered—only her face was exposed, and even her hands were wearing a pair of black silk gloves. Even if a naked woman was standing there, she would not attract more attention than her, because no one would have the same reserved yet affectionate smile as her.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Ruth. It's a very common name, isn't it? In the demon world’s capital city, if you shout Ruth casually, at least ten women will turn around. So I prefer others to call me the Witch of Lust." Ruth walked lightly to the round table and sat down, waving to Qi Leren again. "Sit down, the little pet His Majesty is in charge of keeps causing trouble again. If you ask me, it really needs to be changed to a bigger cage."

"What pet?" Qi Leren asked cautiously.

Ruth crossed her hands under her chin—this action was really like her master—and hesitated: "A goldfish."

A goldfish? Qi Leren was at a loss. What trouble could a goldfish make? Jumping out of the goldfish bowl? It was worth Su He handling it himself?

A goldfish bowl? This word suddenly awakened Qi Leren's reluctant memory. It suddenly occurred to him that Su He had been called away by a voice when he had revealed his identity and killed him. At that time, Qi Leren had lost blood and couldn’t see clearly, but his ears had still heard the voice. What were the exact words? They seemed to be...

[...The goldfish bowl has raised an alarm. It’s very likely that it will escape again...]

Wasn't what lived in the goldfish bowl a goldfish?

It was going to escape, and again? That is to say, it had escaped before?

What on earth was this thing?

Lust calmly poured tea for Qi Leren, and there were three tea sets on the table. Her and Qi Leren’s cups were already filled, but the empty one still waited for its bearer.

"He always makes us wait so long. If you don't mind, we can talk casually." Lust stirred the black tea in the porcelain cup with a delicate silver spoon, but her eyes never left Qi Leren for a moment.

"...What is there to talk about?" Qi Leren asked warily.

"Let's talk about men. Women like me and men like you always like this topic," the Witch of Lust laughed.

"..." What do you mean, "men like you"? Qi Leren was a little depressed.

"What do you think of His Majesty?" the Witch of Lust asked wistfully.

Could he say that he thought he was a deeply-scheming pervert? After Qi Leren learned Su He’s true face, it made his hair stand on end when he recalled the little things from when they used to get along. This feeling was probably like if he had found out an old friend of many years was actually a serial murderer, and that he was his next target.

However, Qi Leren couldn't make such comments to the witch about her boss, lest she become angry from his impudence and teach him to be a man in 10,000 ways. He had to breathe a sullen sigh, consider the sentence carefully and thoughtfully, and after deleting a few-hundred-word-long negative review, provide a small truth that wouldn’t offend anyone: "He’s very handsome."

Lust giggled with joy and reached out to touch Qi Leren's cheek: "You’re so cute, I like you a little."

A sigh came from behind Qi Leren: "Ruth, I asked you to dress properly and take care of the guest, not flirt with him."

The voice struck Qi Leren's head like thunder and lightning. He suddenly jumped up from his chair, then felt that he had overreacted, so he sat back down in embarrassment. The footsteps behind him were getting closer and closer, passing his seat and sitting down in the empty chair opposite Qi Leren.

Su He wore what appeared to be a riding suit, as if he had just arrived by horseback, and he took off his white gloves and held them in one hand. He looked like a human being, handsome and gentle. He didn't seem to notice Qi Leren’s blunder, and he forgot his former unhappiness. After sipping a mouthful of black tea that Ruth poured for him, he put down his cup and smiled, saying to Qi Leren who was on pins and needles:

"On this beautiful night, are you interested in making a deal with me?"

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[hoochieblues]

Welcome to the Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle! Hope it's OK for me to send you a prompt before Friday evening's event :-) Here's a fic prompt for either Hawke/Anders or Hawke/Isabela (any gender of Hawke you want!) from the dialogue prompts: 2. “Close the door.”

Thank you! I cheated slightly and started this a little ahead of the event but finished it up now so I'm going to go ahead and tag it @dadrunkwriting - hope that’s appropriate!

I bring you a longer than anticipated m!Handers with mild smut and bonus Isabela. It’s moving day at the Amell estate, which means what? Half-naked Fereldan farmboys, obviously. Starring my problem child, Tobias “Hot Mess” Hawke.

2167 words | M (ish) | Anders x m!Hawke language, extremely mild smut, family angst & brief addiction reference. also toppy Anders. 

                 ____________________________________________

Hightown sunshine seemed brighter than elsewhere in the city. Probably all the white stone and blinding self-righteousness. And of course it had to be a hot day… not that there weren’t compensations for all the sweaty heavy lifting.

“Mm-mm!” Isabela exclaimed, shoulders slamming into the stonework at Anders’ side.

She threw herself against the wall the same way she threw herself at furniture, or everything else in life, shaking the damp hair from her shoulders and swigging from a waterskin as she rolled her eyes.

“Tell me, why’d we let ourselves get talked into this again?”

Anders, stripped to his shirtsleeves and glad of the breather they were snatching in the shady lee of the house’s ugly yet imposing porch, shrugged.

“Something right about it, I suppose,” he said, watching Leandra—standing in the courtyard, wearing the long purple dress Tobias had bought for her that week—direct the next wave of boxes and furnishings in through the front door. “It’s good to see her happy, after everything she’s lost. It’s—”

“Just.” Isabela passed him the waterskin and snorted. “Sure, sweet thing, but that wistful stare’s telling another story.”

Anders swallowed, the water cool on his parched throat, and gave her a stink-eye, though he denied nothing. No point in that anymore. Things between him and Hawke were new and delicate, but lovely… even if the poor bastard was miserable as sin today.

He looked good for a condemned man, though. Poured into a pair of leather breeches, stripped to the waist—Leandra kept fussing for him to put a shirt on ‘in front of the neighbours,’ the spoilsport—with his tanned skin glowing and a scatter of sun-kissed freckles on his shoulders. He was… making it hard to breathe, honestly, and yet also making it painfully obvious that nothing about him was right for this place. He was a foreigner, from his tousled red-brown hair to his heavy Fereldan boots, and he hated stones and walls, and fine lords and ladies… almost as much as they hated him.

“So, things are going well?” Isabela prompted, her gaze fixed on Tobias hefting a stack of three dining chairs across his shoulders. Her lips curved into a thoughtful smile. “Y’know, for the three of—”

“It’s just me,” Anders said wearily, passing her waterskin back and admiring the view. “All of me.”

That was what Hawke wanted, too. So he kept saying. It still didn’t feel real; like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I can’t believe you haven’t invited me to join you yet. Rude.”

He gave a soft laugh. “I… don’t think he’d go for that, Bela.”

“Oh, I know that.” She cocked an eyebrow. “You forget, sweet thing… I know what he’s like. I already had him. Girl can dream, though, hmm?”

Anders felt her attention on him, prodding to see if she could get a rise—not in a cruel way; there wasn’t true cruelty in her, she was like a cat—but the only flicker of jealousy was a lazy impulse that turned faintly under his skin and was gone, a flash of sunlight on water. He winked at her.

“And I’ve had you, so we’re all square. Not saying it wouldn’t be fun, but—”

“Women aren’t his thing, right? I could tell.”

Anders shrugged. It was true, but he wasn’t going to speak for Tobias. Besides, it drew too close to other things… and one of the main reasons he’d dragged his heels so hard on reclaiming the house.

“Well, better make myself useful,” he said, and ducked back out into the searing sunshine.

He dodged Aveline at the front door, a massive rolled carpet over her shoulder, and caught up with Tobias as he was wrestling with the table that apparently went with the chairs.

“By the big window in the dining room, darling,” Leandra was saying, “under the—actually, no. Maybe the small dining room. It would be more intimate, wouldn’t it? You know what? Put it in there and you can always move it for me later….”

Tobias, leaning on the table with his head bent, looked up at Anders’ arrival.

“Help,” he mouthed, then flashed a grin that didn’t meet his eyes.

Leandra wandered off, distracted by telling a very uncomfortable-looking Fenris where to put a box of newly cleaned candlesticks and silverware.

“The infamous Antivan walnut dining set,” Anders observed, glancing down at the table between them. “Need a hand?”

“I’m going to cut it up for firewood,” Tobias muttered. “And then I’m going to burn the whole bloody place down.”

Anders sucked a breath over his teeth, taking in the tension in his lover’s body, and the sullen despondency in those pretty green eyes.

“You could do,” he said, as they started to manoeuvre the table inside, “but then we’re back to meeting at the Bells, aren’t we? Or the Three Tuns, and that’s a Coterie tavern. So—”

“Stay tonight?”

Desperation stained Tobias’ voice, low and urgent. It hit hard, right as Anders found himself disoriented by the dimness inside the house. Blue spots danced in his vision, almost echoing a different, far less physical kind of light. Discomfort twisted in him—he was already taking time away from his patients, he owed them care; there was only so much his runaway apprentices could handle in his absence, too; it wasn’t right to take advantage of them—but then Tobias struck below the belt.

“Please?”

Anders bit the inside of his lip. “I thought you’d be settling in. Family only, sort of thing.”

Tobias scoffed. There was a particularly distracting bead of sweat making its way from the hollow between his collarbones down the solid planes of his chest. As Anders watched, it dripped onto the Antivan walnut table. He swallowed and tried not to think about licking it.

“Yeah, that’s the trouble. It’ll be dark before everyone fucks off. That’s all right—I owe ’em food and drink and a few hands of Grace for helping—but then it’s me, Mother, Gamlen… and Carv’s coming by for supper. She’s thrilled, of course. I… I can’t. You know we’re hardly civil these days. And you have no idea what it’s like. This house… everything that comes with it. What she wants. Lord Hawke. I-I….”

Tobias’ voice dropped, conscious of the echoes off the vaulted stonework as they carried the table across to the formal dining room. The house was full of people: his—their—friends rallying around, the servants Leandra had employed, plus Gamlen and a selection of hangers-on he wouldn’t stop bragging to about his ‘new accommodation.’

The formal dining room was about half the size of Anders’ clinic, with a marble fireplace at one end. It had a pattern of grapevines carved into the mantel, and a Tevinter-style slave maiden carved into each side. He couldn’t imagine how people could eat in here, but no doubt they had for years.

“I hate this place,” Tobias muttered, setting his end of the table down. He frowned at it. “Too many rooms. Ceilings are too high. If I stay here long enough, I’ll start fucking echoing too. It’s not… real. Just a big empty prison, and filling it up with all the rubbish she’s spent coin on makes no difference. It’s just things. Illusions. A gilded cage. You don’t know wh— Oh, fuck. Sorry.”

He winced. Anders met the look of embarrassment with a patient smile.

“It’s all right. Circle mages don’t get a monopoly on feeling trapped, love.”

There was a flavour of unfairness to the freedoms the Hawkes had enjoyed, that was true. But everything was relative. He reminded himself of that, and hung the thought off the look of frustrated misery in Tobias’ eyes.

“It’s taking away everything. Everything I was good at. I’m shit at parties—her kind of parties, anyway—and I can’t…. Selby was right, wasn’t she? They won’t have me at any more meetings. It won’t be safe. Even you can’t swing that. I’m too visible now. No good to the Underground up here.”

“That’s not true,” Anders said, coming around the table to take one of those big, scarred-knuckle hands in his. “You’ve done more for us than most. You know that.”

“I can still get us coin. I’m still—”

“You’re still you.”

“Thanks.” Tobias sighed, and squeezed his hand. “I don’t feel like it. Can’t you come back tonight? Please. I-I can’t sleep here…. Not alone. And—” He heaved a long breath and stared at the toes of his scuffed, strapped boots, shoulders slumped. “—I don’t want to knock back a bottle of gutrot to deal with it, either. I promised, right?”

The texture of that breath was familiar. Anders knew it as well as he knew the panic it was disguising.

“You did. I’m proud of you, love. Look, why don’t I come by after dinner? Sound good?”

Another breath, this one a rush of relief, with a silent, eager nod. He pulled Tobias close, that sun-warmed bare chest hot even through his shirt—should pick up some salve from the clinic, he’d burn in weather like this—and then Anders’ arms seemed to be the only thing holding him together.

Tobias turned his head, breath tangled in Anders’ hair, one arm bound tight around his shoulders while his free hand tugged at the tuck of his shirt.

“Greedy,” Anders chided, though he was the one winding kisses around Hawke’s throat like bandages, tasting the sweat-salt, heat, and need… and warm, metallic note of his magic, threading through everything like a half-remembered song.

“It’s real,” Tobias murmured, voice just a buzz against his cheek. “You are. Us. Nothing else. Need that. I… I need you.”

It was hard to argue with that. Hard to argue with himself any more, or pretend he wasn’t going to relent. His patients needed him, yes, but so did Hawke. It hummed off him, there in every line and curve of his body, every press of a kiss… and it was need that found an answer in Anders, in the ache to feel good, to feel wanted and light and loved, and to transcend everything awful, just for a little while. To make something better, even temporarily.

A clatter came from the hall, and voices drifted through the open door.

“No, Rivaini, your other left!” That was Varric, muffled and irate. “Oh, for the love of— It’s not going to pivot any further!”

Anders stifled a laugh against Tobias’ neck. “Do you need to do something about that?”

“Absolutely not. Got much more important things on my mind.”

“If you’re sure.”

There were probably seven different kinds of chaos out there, but if it didn’t matter to Hawke, it didn’t matter to him.

“Close the door, then,” Anders murmured. “No one’ll miss us for a while.”

Tobias caught his mouth in another kiss, smiling triumphantly into it. He unwound one hand from Anders’ hair and stretched out his arm, a lazy force spell sparking from his fingers. The door slammed shut, all but blocking out the voices echoing through the great hall. Tobias turned his palm, and a stack of three dining chairs scraped across the floor, then wedged themselves under the door handle.

“Show off,” Anders teased, and backed him into the pretentiously ornate table.

Hawke grinned, widening his eyes in a filthy mockery of innocence. “On Mother’s Antivan walnut dining set? I’m shocked.”

Anders shoved him gently in the chest, loving the way he sprawled back on his elbows, one foot braced against the table leg and one on the floor. They’d have the whole thing over if they weren’t careful, and then there’d be some explaining to do.

“No, you’re not,” he said, leaning in for a kiss as he worked Tobias’ belt free with one hand, and scribed the outline of a glyph across that broad, beautiful chest with the other.

Light rippled under Anders’ skin, the feel of magic waking the parts of him that tended to struggle with flesh and passion, but it was all right… it was always all right with Hawke. A flare of blue danced at his fingers, setting the glyph shimmering with a rime of ice and electricity. Tobias gasped into the kiss, pushed into his palm, every bit of him shared with as much openness and vulnerability as ever… cock, tongue, even the rise of his own power, those bright metallic sparks that skipped and sang between them.

Even beyond Anders’ closed eyes, he shone, clear and perfect. Righteous, which was funny for a man who’d built his living on two-bit beatdowns and smuggling cons, but true. He cupped Anders’ jaw, deepening the kiss, and it was so easy to fall into.

Hawke needed good memories to house in these empty rooms, and if there was one thing Anders could do well, it was taking care of the needy. The bigger wounds? Well, they’d have to work at healing those together… in time.

#inveterate scribbler #dragon age fanfic #dadwc #da drunk writing circle #m!handers #hawke x anders #oc: tobias hawke #handers

[wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever]

The Lord makes poor and rich;He humbles, He also exalts. He raises the poor from the dust,He lifts the needy from the garbage heapTo seat them with nobles,And He gives them a seat of honor as an inheritance;For the pillars of the earth are the Lord’s,And He set the world on them.

#1 samuel 2:7-8 #the way the truth and the life #we are poor blind and naked let him dress you in white

[ladyanput]

A Drop Of Bourbon: The Class

Juleka's eyes snapped open and she sat up abruptly, looking around frantically. Relief swamped her when she saw Rose was curled up beside her, passed out. Glancing around the room, she took note that her class was scattered around the room, save for Lila, Alya, Nino, Adrien, Chloé, and Marinette. 

"Where are we?" Mylène squeaked out as she clung to Ivan, visibly shaken. Many of the students stood and began looking around the room, trying to find a possible exit. But there wasn't anything, just white walls, white floor, and white ceiling. A void.

"I deduce that this is being caused by an akuma." Max adjusted his glasses as he stood, then glanced around, frowning as mild panic began to set in. "Has anyone seen Markov?"

"Do not worry, Markov is fine. And you'll all be fine, as long as you keep your mouths shut." Veritas appeared, seated in a chair that hadn't been there before. Rose let out a scream and hid behind Juleka. The rest of the class were on their feet in an instant, their bodies in defensive positions.

"You?! What the hell did you do to us?" Alix snarled, puffing out her chest as she strode over to the akuma. But her bravado lessened when Veritas stood and met her gaze. Those eyes… They were terrifying. 

"I didn't do anything, at least, not yet. Unless you cause trouble, you all can leave and I can move on without worry." She spoke and moved one of her long hands sharply. All of the students found themselves sitting on chairs. "I am here to lead you blind, dumb sheep away from the wolf's jaws."

"Who are you calling sheep?" Kim snarled, his hands curled into fists, but he jolted back when the akuma appeared mere inches from his face, his vision full of white and two piercing spots of purple.

"You honestly annoy me, Kim. You're very cocky and overconfident, but I guess most of your classmates are. The egos are far too large, the spoiled nature almost chokes me every time I come across it. You even bully on occasion, but I guess that's to hide your fragile ego, your fear of rejection and humiliation." Veritas cupped Kim's face in her cold hands, a gentle smile on her face. "You're quite dim, but you have a charm to you. But that doesn't excuse you for abandoning Marinette."

"W- what?" Kim whispered, turning to watch her wander over to Max. Her claws grazed over his cheek ever so slightly.

"You know, Max… For the supposed genius of the class, you're quite stupid. You created Markov, yet you believe the lies that a napkin would possibly blind you. Or you keep falling for Lila's tales, despite being the smart one, you should be the one to see through the lies, instead of hurting Marinette."

"Lila isn't a liar! She's a works class traveller, someone with all of the tight connections. You're just jealous because you're some Canadian woman who lives such a sad life that she resorts to terrorizing lycée students." Sabrina hissed out, now clinging to Alix's arm.

"Oh shush, Sabrina, you have no room to make accusations. Honestly, I'm surprised you can actually form a cognitive thought without Lila or Chloé putting it in there." Veritas grabbed her by the chin and grinned, then turned to Alix and tugged at her one pigtail. "And you, Alix, you really need to learn to think first, so quick to rush in, such a reckless and hot headed girl. But I don't have much ire towards you, I find."

"Leave her alone." Veritas felt herself being grabbed by Ivan and shoved back. That only made her grin widen as she eyed him and his girlfriend who was cowering behind him.

"Oh Ivan… The mountain with a heart of gold, and his little Mylène, who is scared of her own shadow. I can't really fault you both, except for your disgraceful way in how you handle your friendships."

"Why are we here?!" Rose's voice rose to a shrill note, she just couldn't take being in this room without any exits, being trapped with this… thing. Juleka held her girlfriend closer, tensing when the akuma drew near and patted Rose's head.

"Sweet Rose, so kind and gentle, you remind me so much of a Disney princess. To the point where it sickens me, actually." The akuma tapped Rose's forehead gently with one of those sharp nails of hers. "Honestly, you seem to actively refuse to see the real world, believing in fairytales and make believe. I can see it wouldn't be too hard for Lila to get you tangled up in her web."

"And dearest Juleka.." The way the akuma said her name made Juleka's skin crawl, so did it when those long nails brushed her bangs from  her face, making her feel so naked. "You're a really pretty girl, it absolutely breaks my heart that you don't see it. I know you're smart, but you just refuse to see the truth. But about yourself and about Lila. Poor Marinette didn't deserve all of what your class did to her."

"Are we here because of Marinette's over reactions to Lila's stories? Are you serious, she's just jealous because Lila has a better chance with Adrien." Kim scoffed, totally not sounding bitter in the least about Lila's attentions to another. He seemed to have a thing for bullies.

"You're here because of yourselves. Because you refuse to face your flaws. Such things will destroy you in the end." Veritas made them all sit again, then began making large tears in the air. Scenes began to play out; such as the first day Lila came back from her travels 'abroad', or when Marinette hadn't brought a cake for Lila's birthday and everything had shouted at her. 

"Tell me what's wrong with these scenes and I'll let you go." Veritas took a seat, watching them all carefully with those unsettling eyes of hers.

The students were quiet for a long time, before Rose shakily raised her hand, tears brimming in those large, innocent eyes of hers.

"Was it that we didn't ask Marinette her opinion on switching seats?" She whispered, her free hand tightening its grip on Juleka's arm.

"Very good." Veritas' voice lowered to an approving purr before she leaned closer, her grin widening. "What else?"

"... We got mad at Marinette for no reason. She wasn't trying to be rude, she was put off by the change that was made without her input." Juleka muttered, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend to hold her closer.

"So you're not all as stupid as I thought." Veritas stepped closer, and Rose began weeping when she gazed into the akuma's eyes. "You all lost a friend, because you chose to believe in fairytales."

"You're all such fools."

Then Veritas struck out and tore open the air in many locations, the class suddenly being assaulted by the times they were rude to Marinette, the times they had purposefully left her out of group outings, the times they had dumped a dress commission or a needed cake on her very last minute. And it just got worse and worse, until they saw the girl curled up in her rooms, sobbing as they heard Alya screeching something through the girl's cell.

"You all had better drop onto your knees and beg for her forgiveness." Veritas roughly grabbed Kim's chin, leaving him trembling. "I mean, most of you have known Marinette for so long, surely she'll forgive you, even if you completely dismissed her when she didn't start to suit your needs."

They didn't say anything as the akuma began walking between them, her footsteps silent.

"Honestly, I am trying my hardest to see the good in all of you, I really am. But a class full of naive kids who enabled not one but two bullies to go after Marinette, that's just sad, it's pitiful, it's disgusting." With a wave of her hand, the tears closed and many of the students watched her with teary eyes. She merely smiled. "I shall enjoy watching you all grovel at Marinette's feet when we are done."

And with another wave if her hand, they found themselves sprawled all over their classroom, the sudden burst of colour making many of them flinch. They all exchanged glances when they realized… No one else was anywhere to be seen.

#A Drop Of Bourbon #class salt #miraculous salt

[buckys-little-hoe]

Insecure | Peter Parker x Reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Sam and Bucky make both of you insecure. You decide to prove them wrong. 

Warnings: Fluff, no warning I think. 

A/N: Heyaw! I just wanted to tell you that Peter is 21 in this Oneshot and the world knows that he is Spiderman. Thank you!

--

You silently sit on the couch and listen to the men. In the meantime you sip your beer. This would be men's night actually, but for some reason your friends see you as one of the boys. Is it because you only wear comfortable clothes and don't show curves? Is it because of your talent in video games? Perhaps. It's not fair. But thank god you're not the subject right now. Instead, poor Peter Parker is under attack.

“What do you mean, Parker? You just can't be bad at dancing. ” Sam says and you roll your eyes. Poor Peter. He constantly becomes a kicker for the men. You look down. A few strands of hair come loose from your bun and fall into your face. Annoyed, you blow it off your face, missing Steve’s gaze.

“It's a shame to not be able to dance. How are you ever going to take a girl out?” Bucky intervenes and you sigh in sync with Peter. What is that stupid statement supposed to mean? You like to dance, but that doesn't mean that all girls like to do it. After all, you are no longer in the 40s.

“He's right, Queens. How do you want to appear at the gala?” Steve agrees with his best friend. It was clear that he would agree. He also has no idea. With effort to stay calm, you put your beer on the glass table. Next to it is the card game that you played. You pulled the guys over the table with it. Another reason for your friends to not consider you girl.

“Don't listen to these idiots, Parker. Not many girls like to dance these days.” Your voice is encouraging, but Peter only shakes his head. Of course, he'd rather believe the boys than you. Why does your opinion never count?

"And how do you know that?" Sam asks and you take a deep breath. That hurt more than you thought. You pull your lower lip between your teeth and stand up. "You're an asshole, Wilson." you insult him and take your jacket.

“Wait, Y/N. He didn't mean that! ” Steve calls after you, but you just keep walking. In the middle of the hallway you get your cell phone out. The bright screen makes you pause for a few seconds. Biting your lip, you tap on it.

Y/N: Meet me in the gym tonight, alone. Don't tell anyone.

Spiderling: What? Why?

Y/N: Just do what I say.

Y/N: And put on something comfortable!

Spiderling: Okay, Miss Y/L/N

Grinning, you roll your eyes. He'll never understand that he should just call you by your first name. You are about a few years older than Peter, but you are not that old. - Bored, you tie the buttons on your black body. Your long legs are in see-through tights and your hair is tied up in a tight bun. Your eyes slide to the door, which is still locked. It takes him longer than expected. You relax on the floor and hum softly to the music that is playing in the background.

The door opens and you startle easily. The fear that someone would see you like this is big. However, it is already four in the morning, so the chance of meeting uninvited guests is very slim. You press your lips together and then force yourself to look as calm as possible. It's okay for you to show yourself in front of Peter, but you're still insecure. You'll have to get this under control until the gala.

"Oh! Sorry Miss Y/L/N! Uh ... I meant Y/N. ” Peter stutters and you turn around. His cheeks are flushed with shame. With a gentle smile, you ask him in. “It's okay, Parker. If you agree to my deal, you have to endure me more often. ” You point to your body and he shakes his head violently. "No! You look really pretty!” he says honestly. The corners of your mouth twist into an even bigger smile, if that's even possible.

Together you sit on a bench and you take a few seconds to look at his outfit. He is wearing gray sweatpants and a white tank top with a pair of white sports shoes. That should actually be comfortable enough.

“So, Parker. Would you like to amaze the boys?” you want to know curious. Your eyes flash with excitement. "With pleasure! But how?" the young man asks you. You lick your lips and grin. "I will teach you how to dance." you explain and try to read from his face whether he likes the idea.

"How would you benefit from that?" His confused expression makes you giggle. To be honest, Parker looks confused 90% of the day. “The boys don't see me as a woman. I want to change that.” you answer. At the last galas, you always wore big blouses and wide trousers that showed nothing and covered your body. This time you would put on a short dress, one with a generous view of your cleavage.

"I do see you as a woman!" he replies. "Now just a little bit more ..." he whispers and his cheeks turn red again. You give him a little laugh. He is just too cute. You clap your hands excitedly and stand up.

"It's time to practice, Parker!"

--

You stand tired in the kitchen and wait for the coffee to be ready. You have been practicing daily for two weeks. Sometimes at night in the training room, sometimes during the day on a meadow. It turns out that Peter has music in his blood. During your training, you two got closer and built up a friendship, but in the compound you still have this we-are-only-colleagues-relationship. You don't want anyone to find out anything. The gala is already in three weeks, but as hard-working as you are, you should soon be able to do it blind.

The lamp finally glows green and you don't waste time. Instead, you put the hot pot on your lips and drink. Your skills don't let you feel cold or heat. Accordingly, you cannot burn yourself or get any other injuries that heat and cold bring. You hear Clint groan in annoyance.

"You are so selfish, Y/N." he says (like as if you would care) and turns to the other coffee machine. You put the empty jug down and shrug your shoulders. "The whole world is about me, Clint." you reply and notice how a few drops of coffee run down the corners of your mouth. Peter hands you a few napkins as he walks past. "Thank you, Peter." you thank him with a slight smile and wipe the coffee away. "No problem, Y/N."

Bucky and Steve look up in surprise from their newspapers. Sam stops eating. "What?" you ask and raise a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Since when do you call him by his first name?" Bucky wants to know in surprise. Hmm. Maybe since Peter lifted you up for a while? Maybe since Peter sees you half-naked. You shrug your shoulders as calmly as possible.

"I call you Bucky too, don’t I?" you say and flutter your eyelashes. "But you don't call me Sam!" Sam replies and you roll your eyes. “I have no reason to call you by your first name. That's just for the people I actually like.” you defend yourself “It's okay, Y/N. You don't have to defend yourself in front of us. ” Steve intervenes. "Thanks, Steve." you say and look at Sam when you say his name.

Clint leans against the kitchen counter and looks first at you and then at Peter, who hides his face behind a cereal box. "Interesting." the archer whispers and sips his coffee with relish. "Idiot." you mumble under your breath and leave the kitchen. - You hiss quietly when he stands on your foot. He looks at you apologetically and immediately breaks away from you. You shake your head briefly and then wave it off. He didn't break your foot.

“It's okay, Peter! We'll try again.” you say encouragingly and take a few steps back. He rolls his shoulders to relieve the tension and nods. "OK." he replies and comes closer to you. His right hand rests on your back and the other is knotted with your right. Your left hand is on his shoulder blade.

He guides you and you proudly follow him. Your hips move in time. You can take a quick look at yourself in the mirror. The black sweatpants sit low on your hips and the black sports bra fits like a glove. Your hair is tied up in a loose ponytail. Peter is again wearing the gray sweatpants but this time a white t-shirt.

The music in the background is a bit quiet, but still audible. You roll your head backwards appropriately. The sunlight shines directly on the tip of your nose. Your head is back up when he looks at you. He lets go off you immediately and points to his goose bumps.

You understand of course and quickly slip into your sweater. Peter stops the music and then picks up a few dumbbells. You stand on the treadmill and start running just in time. The heavy doors open and Sam is laughing at a joke Bucky made. Bucky looks crispy, especially his thighs. Even Sam in his sports clothes looks exceptionally juicy. Still, you would never admit that. Their conversation falls silent when they see Peter. "Are you going to pick a few girls up, Spiderboy?" Sam asks and stands behind him.

Bucky grunts loudly and you roll your eyes as usual. The boys can be real idiots. You keep running and ignore their presence. Sam gives you a funny look because he will never understand why you wear a sweater while training. You don't feel any heat anyway, so that's not a problem for you. Instead, you focus on the race. - "How you do that?" Peter asks, pointing to your high heels. You smile proudly. You two are taking a break. The gala is in a week, so you've already decided to try high heels. These are very high because you weren't sure which ones to wear. “Years of practice.” you answer seriously and smile. It is actually true. Back in high school, you started secretly wearing heels. However, you always carried these at home because you hated attention at the time.

Together you get up again and he walks away. Even with your high shoes, he’s still a few centimeters taller because you are very short. "Let's try the lifting figure again?" he asks you and you nod. The lifting figure is not a problem for Peter, after all, he can also lift cars. You have curves in the right places, but you still have a flat stomach. This mainly comes from training and from all the missions.

The sun is beating down on you and the birds are chirping happily. You are standing in a meadow, very far away from the headquarters. You walk about ten steps back and crack your fingers. The lifting figure is a problem for you. Not that you don't trust Peter! You don't trust yourself. You are afraid that you will screw up everything, or that you’ll hit the ground, or that you are too heavy after all. The lifting figure is still part of the choreography and it is important.

He nods to you and you take a deep breath. Your heart is pounding quickly. You swallow hard for a moment and start running. Just before you stand in front of Peter, you stretch out your arms and he lifts you up at the waist. You almost hover over his head and stretch out your body. The wind blows through your hair and you smile happily. After about ten seconds, he carefully lets you down. Overwhelmed by the happiness, you hug the boy exuberantly. Laughing, he wraps his arms around your body.

"We did it, Peter!" you call cheerfully and both of you fall into the soft grass laughing. - You look nervously at yourself in the mirror and tug at your dress. It is light pink and has a few silver and white details on the upper body. The neckline is deep, but not too deep. It just gives a generous view of your breasts. The fabric is tight up to your waist, but then there is a lot of tulle underneath. The dress goes down to the middle of your thighs. You combined it with a pair of silver high heels.

Your hair falls over your shoulders in gentle curls. Only when you put your hair back you can see the expensive diamond earrings. Your make-up is simple. You redraw your pink lips and then nod satisfied. You can show yourself like that. 

The gala started a long time ago. You hurry down the few steps and quickly pull Peter into a corner. He is wearing a black suit and looks very attractive. As you look around to see if anyone has noticed you, Peter lets his eyes wander over your body.

"Wow ... you look amazing, Y/N." he says with his mouth open. Your cheeks turn red and you smile shyly. "You don't look bad either, Peter." you reply and bite your lower lip. "Get ready, okay?" you remind the boy with a serious expression and he nods.

The donation gala is structured as follows: Every male Avenger gets a dance to convince the crowd to donate. Most of the time, it's more of a competition among the boys to see which man makes more money. Only the boys actually have to dance, so you've never had to dance. For example, Vision dances with Wanda, Bruce with Natasha, Clint with Laura, Thor with Jane, Tony with Pepper and Steve with Sharon. Sam and Bucky choose a woman during the gala who can have the pleasure of dancing with one of them. This is Peter's first donation gala.

"Have you spoken to the DJ yet?" you ask your dance partner. He shakes his head and you nod. It is time to overcome your insecurities. "I'll do it quickly." He smiles encouragingly at you. You smile back and set off.

You arrive at the DJ unseen. You quickly hand in your choice of music and understanding he shows you a thumb up. You say thank you and he starts to engage in a conversation. You raise an eyebrow in surprise and just want to give him a no, but another voice interrupts you.

"Hello Beautiful Woman. Unaccompanied here?” the deep voice asks and your heart starts racing. Slowly you turn around and his charming grin turns into a shocked expression. "Y/N?" he says surprised and you smile innocently. "What's up, Wilson?" you reply and suppress a smile.

"You ... you, um. Wow. You ... hello ... you just look ... wow. ” your work colleague stutters and you laugh gently. “Thank you, Wilson. You too. ”, You answer and point at his dark blue suit.

Bucky approaches Sam from the side and ignores you. You quickly turn to the DJ and smile apologetically at him. He just waves the whole thing off and smiles wryly. "Have you seen Parker yet, Sam?" Bucky asks his friend and nudges him. But he doesn't even look at him. Confused, he follows Sam's gaze and sees your back. His lips curl up in a grin. "Hello, you have a dance partner already?" Bucky wants to know and taps your shoulder.

You roll your eyes briefly and then turn around. He sees you, startled. “Uh! Y/N?” he asked hesitantly and you nod with a smile. "You look ... indescribably beautiful!" Bucky says as if he couldn't believe it himself. You lick your lips amused and wink at him.

"I wish you a nice evening, gentlemen." Your voice is so tender and loving that sweet honey drips from your lips. You wave to them and disappear to go to the bar. Both men stand there in confusion.

"Did you see her too?" Sam asks incredulously and Bucky nods. “Yes, buddy. That was Y/N. ” Bucky replies and looks after you. Peter is still standing in the corner and watching you grinning. - Bucky and his dance partner leave the dance floor with raging applause. Now it's Peter’s turn. You two are the last. The applause ceases and Peter stands on the dance floor. The music plays loud and slowly you walk towards him. You start with your choreography. You forget the people around you.

As practiced, you go through the steps and diligently swing your hips. Natasha is the first to whistle you. You can hear the cameras and the talking press. You will definetly occupy the front page of tomorrow's newspaper. The two youngest Avengers are a couple?

But you don't care. Not tonight and not tomorrow either. Now only his eyes count for you. Slowly you loosen up and he takes a few steps back. You also take a few steps back and wait a moment. Then you run towards him and spread your arms. With ease he lifts you up and you stretch your body. The audience applauds.

With a fat smile he lets you down and you two are very close. You can feel his breath on your lips. You look smiling at his lips and slowly he approaches your lips. You quickly close the gap and put your lips on his. The applause gets louder, but you don't hear that. You put your arms around his neck and gently bite his lower lip.

You have clearly proven that Peter can dance and that you are a woman.

#peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spider man #bucky #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #falcon #Winter Soldier #Avengers #avengers x reader #clint barton #hawkeye #mc #marvel #marvel universe #tony stark #ironman #Steve Rogers #captain america #bruce banner #hulk #peter parker fluff #fluff #dirty dancing #time of my life #dancing #natasha romanoff

[babbushka]

Each Eye (4/8)

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Mob Boss!Kylo x Reader

Word count: 8.5k Warnings: N*FW, mentions of violence/murder

Also available on AO3! 

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

It was true, what they said. About Kylo, about him being a monster. He was ruthless, focused, merciless. He had some wild thing living in his veins, simmering just underneath his skin, some evil harrowing thing with sharp teeth and curled claws and venom dripping from both sets of razors. 

You hadn’t tamed the beast, not by any means, but you certainly did a good job of keeping him occupied, you thought to yourself when the two of you had finished, your sore body littered with bruises and bites, sweet soft blooms in the wake of hard hands and grips too tight.

To your own credit, Kylo’s body didn’t fare much better; scratched to high heavens from your nails, bleeding in some parts from the force of it, dark splotches and marks all across his chest. But from his spot on the bed, whole frame shoved up against you, his fingers trailing in lazy patterns on your stomach as he kissed your cheek rosy from exertion in the afternoon sunlight, he didn’t seem to mind.

You took in a deep breath, let it out with a thoughtful hum, rolled off the bed and pulled him by the hand into the bathroom.

Another shower would be excessive, but a wipe-down was absolutely necessary, and he sat on the edge of the bathtub, beckoned you forward so you could stand between his legs.

“Good?” You asked, settled between his knees as he turned the faucet of the tub on, dunked a soft cloth underneath the spray when the water ran warm enough. 

“You’re always good.” He said with intense concentration as he began dutifully wiping you down.

“I meant you, my perfect darling. Are you good?” You asked, making his hand still for a moment from the praise as he turned those eyes up towards you, always looking up at you. He quirked the barest hint of a smile, just the flash of a dimple, and you knew he was preening, blushing from your words.

“I’m breaking out into song and dance.” He replied, deadpan humor of his making you laugh brightly, which in turn made him blush even more, blushing that he could make you laugh.

You couldn’t help but grin, card your fingers through his messy locks. They were clean from being washed only that morning, but the waves had tangled up in the process of him fucking the life out of you. Or maybe into you? Who knew, only time would tell.

“What are you wearing tonight?” You asked, partly because he seemed to be in a chatty mood, giving more than a one-word response. You liked when he was talkative, when he was smiling the way he was. It showed off those dimples you loved so dearly.

“I have a new velvet suit, was thinking about breaking that in.” He shrugged, big brown eyes filled with soul as he searched your face for your response.

You appraised him for a moment, how handsome he was. The way you could see the damage from the scar, how it had just very nearly missed his eyeball, how it had just very nearly avoided blinding him there. You leaned down slightly to kiss the high point of his cheekbone, where the split marred the flesh, as he carefully, adoringly, smoothed the cloth down the backs of your thighs, your calves.

“Velvet.” You finally said, pleased with his choice. “You know I love velvet. I’ll wear it too.” You decided, and he perked up, looking altogether too young, painfully young, in that way he sometimes did when he was excited.

“The red dress?” He licked his lips and you laughed just a little at his eagerness.

“No, I was thinking the purple.” You were sorry to say, tugged on his ear just a little and Kylo rolled his eyes fondly. He continued his ministrations while you hummed in thought, chewed on the inside of your cheek. Something had really been bothering you, from the moment you had regained the ability to form coherent thoughts, “I wonder what murder it was.”

“Hm?” Kylo asked, too occupied with pressing his thumbs into the red marks he left on your hips, occupied with cleaning your stomach.

“Pigs said there was a murder. I wonder who did it.” You specified, and he shrugged.

“It wasn’t any of our people, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” He said, and you chuckled, leaned down for a kiss one more.

“Do you think it could be the same person involved with sending those guys to rough up Larry?” You asked, as his hands dropped the cloth and he pulled you closer closer closer, until you were in danger of knocking him backwards into the tub, in danger of making him lose his balance as his lips were seemingly magnetized to your own.

“Yeah.” Kylo said, eyes slipping closed as you met him halfway and made out with him for a little bit before he pulled away with a low growl in the back of his throat, stopping himself from getting hard all over again. “And it probably is. I don’t entirely believe that it’s not Hux. No one else has the nerve to fuck around with us like that. Maybe we can talk more about it after dinner, I can call some guys and see what’s up, they can get back to me after we eat.” Kylo continued, and your eyebrows nearly shot up at such a speech.

You stepped back, gave him enough room to stand up, and it never failed to amuse you just how tall he was.

So tall and yet he bent – physically and metaphorically – to your will, to meet you.

You turned around to face the mirror, the long clean mirror that covered the wall of the bathroom, and smiled at the reflection of your naked bodies. Kylo stood behind you, and yet he was still so wide that you could see his sides poking out from behind you, watched as his hands slid around your stomach to hold you.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” You asked, and he kissed your cheek.

“No.” He gave your lower stomach a little smack, before walking away in search of underwear, the chill of the room finally starting to settle in after being so hot from sex.

“But I want to know.” You complained playfully, laughing when a clean pair of your own underwear was chucked at your head.

“Tough shit.” He said, and though he didn’t smile, his eyes shimmered with a lightheartedness of his own.

You snatched them before the cotton could hit you in the face, and stepped into them while he watched with his own approving glare.

“Who d’ya think you are? Talkin’ to me like that?” You folded your arms in front of your chest, stalking towards him in manner that had him backing up out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“Love you.” He said and you just snapped your teeth at him, making him snatch you around the waist and circle you around and around, to music that wasn’t there, dip you low so he could kiss your laughing mouth.

You eventually got dizzy, and pushed at his chest lightly with a big smile.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes, pinched his ass when he set you right, “Go wrap yourself in velvet why don’t you?”  

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

Being that it was Sunday, Dopheld was available to drive you both to the restaurant. You and Kylo were snuggled up in the backseat of the car, you in your fur coat and matching hat, and he in his suit, his hand on your knee, possessive and hot.

You had to admit, you were anticipating something overly expensive and exclusive, like Le Bernardin, or Eleven Madison Park, so when Dopheld pulled the Bentley up to a rustic looking jazz club, you were both very excited and amused.

Kylo looked to you, gauging your approval for the place, and you nodded simply.

“Thank you, Dopheld.” Kylo said, before promptly getting out of the car and holding the door open for you.

Your driver only gave a bright smile in response, before driving away to do goodness knows what. Kylo offered you his arm and you took it easily, your heels careful of the ice that had started to form on the pavement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ren! What an absolute pleasure it is to have you celebrate your special night with us.” The hostess at the door of the restaurant said when the two of you walked in, “Please allow me to take your coat, shall I escort you to our private room?”

Once again, Kylo surprised you by shaking his head as you shimmied out of your furs, handed them over with care.

“No, no thank you.” He replied, voice measured, deep. “We’d like our table to be right with everyone else.”

The hostess was undoubtedly surprised as well, but she was at least decent enough to not be so flustered. You felt bad, the poor woman had probably arranged for something special that would now go to waste. Kylo didn’t care, and stood there expectantly, waiting for the host to finish speaking with a waiter or two, to rearrange the seating.

“Right this way.” The woman said eventually, and Kylo gestured for you to go first, him trailing behind.

It wasn’t until you gave a habitual passing glance out the door, that you realized Kylo had asked Knuckles and Slip to keep watch over the evening. You smiled in their direction, knowing they could see it, before going deeper into the restaurant.

It was dark outside now that the sun had gone down, but you were sure it’d be black as night in this place no matter the time of day. It was a true and proper lounge, with a fully stocked bar encased in dark wood, small round tables covered in a white cloth and decorated with a tea-light candle and bouquet of flowers were arranged so that patrons and waiters alike could weave through the paths with ease. It was smoky, one of the last lounges that allowed smoking indoors you were impressed, and the lights were all dimmed low and golden, except for the lights which illuminated a stage. The thick red curtain was closed for now, but Kylo was checking his watch, so you knew something must be starting soon.

The host brought you to your table, a prime spot in view of the stage. Not too close that you’d be craning your neck all evening, but not too far away that many heads could get in your way. It was even close to the open dance floor, which would no doubt be filled with sentimental couples. You were already planning on being a sentimental couple yourself, as Kylo pulled your chair out for you.

“Who’s preforming tonight?” You asked the hostess, who glanced at the stage and then at her own watch.

“We’ve received a special request for the evening, it’s just our house band but they’re doing covers of Sinatra songs.” She replied, and you couldn’t help but suck in a breath.

“You’re so good, you know that?” You turned to Kylo, grasped his hand in an adoring squeeze as he shifted his chair to sit next to you as opposed to across from you.

You pressed your side right up against his as the host left, clearly wanting to give you space.

“Oh I’m even better, just wait.” He said in a rare display of cheeky confidence.

When the food arrived, it was a smorgasbord of all your favorites. It felt like the courses were never-ending, between the appetizers and the soup and the main dish with all its sides. Every bite was somehow more delicious than the last, and you wanted to know how Kylo had found such a place, such a hole-in-the-wall.

You wondered if it was in his jurisdiction, or if the owners just knew of him, like over at John’s.

Almost as soon as the food arrived, did the band get up on stage. Dressed like they were from the 1940s, transporting you back in time. Not in that hokey way of poorly made wigs and generic fedora hats, but in a considerate way, a thoughtful way, attention to detail in the history of the fashion, respecting the times.  

You hummed and tapped your foot along to the music as you and Kylo stared into one another’s eyes, being obnoxiously in love without a care in the world. He fed you, lifted your fork up to your lips, and you carefully avoided smudging your lipstick.

You’re both relatively quiet while you eat, too wrapped up in each other’s gaze and more than happy to simply enjoy the music. The singer did a wonderful job imitating the songs, putting his own spin on some of the intonation every now and again in a way you appreciated. But eventually, the last course was taken away, and you had the urge to dance.

One look towards the dance floor had Kylo rising from his seat and offering you his hand, which you gladly took, and he walked you to the middle of the floor. You weren’t the only couple there, not by any means – it felt like half the tables were empty of people instead swaying back and forth.  

When the big band orchestra played up Always, you couldn’t help but grin and blush, duck your head just a little, just enough for Kylo to tip your chin back up to meet his gaze through lidded eyes. His arm slid around your waist, his other moving to grasp your hand as he turned you round and around on the dance floor.

And people always said you were the sentimental one, you couldn’t help but think as the singer up on the stage crooned out your wedding song. Kylo himself was starry-eyed, chewing on his lip, and you didn’t deny him a kiss, didn’t deny either of you a soft, romantic kiss.

The lounge was hazy and smooth, and though you’re surrounded by other couples in diamonds and pearls, you feel like the luckiest woman on earth, the only woman on earth.

“How come you wanted us in the middle of everyone?” You asked softly, a small smile on your lips as the two of you waltzed slowly to the music.

“I saw some familiar faces when we walked in. Figured they wouldn’t cause a scene if we were out in the open.” Kylo said, and your brow creases slightly.

“Where?” You asked, and Kylo’s jaw clenched, he rotated you both around so that you’re facing the opposite direction.

“Just past the big pillar.” He said, low in your ear, as his lips brushed against the back of your cheek, pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. You hummed and let him keep kissing as you searched for who might be there to bother you, when your eyes landed on them.

The brother sister duo of Roisin and Connor were chatting near the great marble pillar which supports the ceiling of the ritzy lounge, and you held your eye contact when they took notice of you noticing them. They looked good, you had to admit. The deep green satin dress complimented Roisin’s ginger hair and freckled complexion beautifully, and you couldn’t ever recall a time where you didn’t see Connor in a suit. His wasn’t velvet like Kylo’s, but it was still tailored well enough and had big enough shoulder pads to broaden him out a bit.

“Fuck.” You breathed when they decided you’ve been staring too long, “They’re Irish. And they’re coming over.”

Kylo seemingly didn’t mind too much, not in the moment anyway, and just kept dancing with you as they made their way across the floor, joining in and dancing with one another to not seem so conspicuous.

You and Kylo did your best not to look suspicious, not to look alert, not even when they wound up dancing right next to you. Seemingly nothing but two couples, strangers in this great big world, happening to steal a piece of the beauty of the moment.

That is until the song ended, and there’s polite applause for a song well sung, until they turned to face you as the man took a big swig of water and shared a small anecdote that has the crowd chuckling in amusement while the band set up for the next song.

“Kylo, (Y/N).” Connor kept his voice low, at least had the decency to nod his head in respect, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What do you want?” Kylo cut right to the chase, and Roisin laughed in that quiet, elevated way people of high society laugh.

“A dance.” She said, and you’re prepared to claim your man right in front of her, when she surprised you by looking right at you and specifying, “With (Y/N).”

“No.” Kylo said immediately, grip around your waist tightening. But something in Roisin’s appraising gaze is calculating enough to interest you.

“One dance.” You said, that gaze a challenge. You’ve never been known to back down from a challenge.

Kylo and Connor both exchanged glances, and Kylo’s jaw worked and worked and worked to keep his mouth shut, as he nodded, as they both walked to the sidelines.

He’s not happy about it, not happy one fucking bit, but you wanted to know what’s going on. Roisin’s skin was soft where her dress wasn’t covering her, thin spaghetti straps showing off her toned arms. She assumed the leading position, which you found you didn’t mind.

“Roisin, is everything okay?” You asked, brushing a strand of curled hair off of her shoulder.

“No, they’re not. We’re here to serve as a warning.” Roisin said with a bit of a sigh, and you nodded.

Warnings were messy, they always were. You didn’t have a gun on you, didn’t think you’d need it, but you knew Kylo had three on him right now, he could intervene if he needed to. You may not have had a gun, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t kill her right then, right there.

And you would, but you wanted answers first.

“Just tell me something first, is it Hux?” You asked, as she twirled you slowly, dipped you down down down, stomach fluttering from it as she raises you back up, all too similar to how Kylo had in the bathroom.

“Is what Hux?” She asked, and you didn’t really appreciate that, playing dumb.

“The person committing all the murders, sending guys to harass our business owners?” You spelled it out, gave her that much leeway.

Except.

She faltered the dance for a moment as she frowned, her pale brows knitting as she regarded you for a moment. In your peripheral, you saw Kylo and Connor tense, incredibly tense, as they watched the two of you on the dance floor.

“Wait – we thought you were the ones committing the murders and sending guys to harass our people.” She said quietly, her hands reclaiming your waist and palm, resuming the dance once more.

It wouldn’t do to draw attention, not now.

“We haven’t sent anyone anywhere.” You shook your head, now thoroughly unhappy with the proceedings of this Midtown disaster. “Shit, you’ve got people dying too?” You asked, and she groans in the back of her throat, nods.

“Yeah, fuck. Well this makes it awkward.” She sighed, careful to avoid stepping on your toes as she spun you around, and ahh there it is.

“Makes what awkward?” You prompted, just to get it out of the way.

“I’m supposed to kill you. Hux thinks Kylo’s crossed a line, one of his favorite suppliers was found carved up last night.” She explained, and you hummed thoughtfully, because really by all accounts his reaction makes sense given his perspective.

Too bad it’s the wrong one.

“If you’d like you can give it your best try.” You offered Roisin, who looked at you like you’ve got three heads.

“You’re going to let me murder you?” She asked, and you laughed brightly, shook your head.

“I’m going to let you try.” You specified, making her grin.

Many people have tried.

Roisin reached in between her cleavage and pulled out the smallest little gun you’ve ever seen, one that probably could only hold three or four bullets, one that she pressed against your hip, leaned in close, her perfectly applied lipstick very close to your cheek. The metal was cold, cold enough that you could feel it through the velvet of your dress, and she hummed, her lashes tickling your skin.

Before she can cock the trigger and plant her literal kiss of death, you reached into your hair and pulled out the long needle that you’ve used as a decorative pin to hold your locks up, and swiftly pushed it between her ribs, penetrating that pretty green satin. The needle slid into her flesh like she’s made of butter, and you couldn’t help but smile just a little as you turned your face to press a kiss to her own cheek, leaving the pretty imprint of your deep red lips.  

“Damn.” She chuckled with a wince, as your hand was now pressed right against her skin, as you let go of the needle. It remained deep inside her, puncturing one of her major arteries. She tensed up immediately from the pain, “You really are fast.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered, “You can keep that.” You tap the pretty handle of the needle, encrusted with jewels that you’ll be sad to miss.

But if you pulled it out of her right now, then she’d die practically on the spot, and that would cause a scene. You very well couldn’t have that.

Not on your anniversary.

“I suggest you leave.” You said, as the song ended, her one dance up. You turned to the singer and applauded along with everyone else, as Roisin started to cough. You didn’t bother looking at her again while saying, “And if you make it long enough, when you’re out of the hospital tell Hux we didn’t send anyone to do anything. This was in self-defense.”

“Fair enough.” Roisin groaned.

“Actually,” You said, stopping her before she could get too far, “I do really want to keep this, if you don’t mind.”

With wide eyes she was unable to stop you from reaching out and pulling the needle out of her stomach. Connor rushed over, as she immediately doubled down onto herself, clutching at the rapidly growing dark splotch in her dress.

He hurried the two of them out of the lounge, with only a minor commotion. The way Roisin was hunched over herself made it look more like she was suffering from food poisoning than a stabbing.

“Do you mind if I borrow this?” You asked a near-by table for their napkin as Kylo wove through the crowd like a shark.

You gave the man seated at the table the most dazzling charming smile you could, and he didn’t think twice about handing over his black cloth napkin. You gratefully took it right when Kylo showed up, slid his arm around your waist and shot the meanest glare he was able. You only kissed Kylo’s cheek, and having now procured the napkin, returned to the dance floor with him, leaving the man in the dust.

You wiped the needle off on the cloth and were about to twist your hair back up when Kylo lightly stopped your wrist.

“Keep it down.” He said, and you smiled, slipped the needle inside his jacket pocket. He began to dance with you again, as you both surveyed the floor – it was clear of blood, which was good. Didn’t need the pigs snooping around more than necessary. Still, Kylo had been out of earshot, so he was curious when he asked, “What happened?”

“She’ll be dead by the time they get to the car.” You mused, but he wasn’t smiling.

“Yeah but why?” He asked again, and you chewed your lip in thought.

“Hux thinks we’re the one fucking up all over the place. It’s really not him, Kylo.” You said, and his jaw clenched tight again.

“Someone is trying to pit our families against each other.” He made the obvious statement just to make it, just to try and make sense of it, “But I don’t know why.”

“There’s a lot of sick sons of bitches out there, but there’s even more stupidity. Ask the KoR to feel around just like you said, there’s got to be some evidence of this mystery person.”

“Okay.” Kylo nodded, already reaching in to take out his phone. “Also, I want to go, tomorrow. I think we should.”

You gave him a questioning glance for a moment, his decision surprising you for a moment longer, before you huffed a small laugh and plucked the cell phone right out of his palm, and he rolled his eyes. He worked too much, you thought.

“It can wait until we’re on our way home.” You puckered your lips, and Kylo, the man so in love as he was, swooped down to plant a loud smack right to your lips.

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

It took less than thirty seconds after the front door closed for Kylo to be all over you, hands all over you, lips all over you.

You let him, in the dark of your foyer, you let him.

“You were so good today.” You breathed, allowing yourself to simply feel adored, to let Kylo give whatever he wanted, take as much as he gave.

“Was I?” He asked, licked his lips, eyes wide, bright in the moonlight.

There was something there, something eager and filled with anticipation – but a hunger as well. That same hunger he had shown you earlier in the day, that same hunger he always seemed to have, stomach of the beast rumbling for you.

“Yes, very good. Tonight was so wonderful.” You whispered, cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him too sweetly, licked gently into his mouth in the way that made him keen and whine, desperate.

You let your hand fall to his crotch, shoved it down his trousers and found his cock already hard, already so full for you. You gave it a few good, even, steady strokes, ones that had his huge frame twitching, curling in towards you, shoulders rounding in and making himself small, making himself try and swallow you whole.

“I-I’m glad.” He moaned, and you smiled, kissed the corner of his open mouth as you sped up your hand a little more, used the pre-come that was slowly oozing out of his cock as lube to wet your hand more and more.

“I think someone deserves something sweet.” You pulled away, leaving him frustrated in the most delicious way.

“Let me eat your pussy?” He asked, so quick, like he had been hoping for this, had been planning for it.

“Get me naked first.” You ordered, and he was eager, desperate to do so.

So desperate in fact, that he didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He walked you to the living room, and splayed you out on the couch, shedding your layers on the way.

You had surprised him, by not wearing any underwear. This was both of your night, after all. You winked at him when he kneeled between your legs, fully dressed while you were now naked. He groaned into your skin just from the sheer lust he felt for you, buried his face between your knees in a way that made you laugh.

He thunked his forehead against your thigh and kissed the spot there before pulling your hips to the edge of the couch.

You were growing impatient yourself, and you helped the process along by propping your bare foot up against the shiny coffee table that would no doubt be smudged with your oils and sweat in a few moments, after he had had a taste of you.

You propping your foot up gave him a little nook between your legs that he could live in, and live there he did. He closed his eyes and breathed you in, breathed in the smell of your cunt, running his hands up and down your calves, the backs of your thighs, just breathing, until his mouth was literally watering so much he had to swallow hard, and then he dove in.

“Yes!” You gasped when he finally did breach you.

His tongue felt so good against you, the way it wriggled deep inside you, the way it dragged against the walls of your pussy, and you moaned loud, unashamed. His hands gripped your hips as he pushed his face as close to your cunt as possible, his nose rubbing against your clit, prodding it there as he spread your folds with his tongue and lips, sucked them into his mouth, swallowed down all the slick that your pussy gave him.

“Oh,” You gasped, chest heaving as you tangled your hand in his hair, the other gripping the cushion of the couch, “Fuck it’s so good, you’re so good.”

He moaned into you, and fuck that was a feeling you could cry from, the devastatingly deep baritone of his voice radiating through your body, right into your very core. He pulled away though and you complained, verbally protesting with a disappointed groan, which had him pleading with those eyes, kissing the inside of your knee.

“What -- ?” You asked. You could see your juices all over his goatee, in his beard and there was something sick and delicious about the way he licked it off his moustache.

“I have to fuck you.” He explained, shucking off his four-thousand-dollar suit like it was made of paper. “I have to, get inside this tight cunt.” He begged, and you nodded, frantic.

“Take me, come on, take what you want, make me come.” You were just as eager, just as desperate, and you made room for him on the couch, shimmied up it and laid horizontally across the cushions so he could settle himself between your legs.

He slid in easily, smeared his body against yours.

“Oh shit.” He groaned, sinking deeper and deeper into your hot pussy, breathing hard against your throat where he had buried his face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, made for me, just for me.”

“Kylo!” You whined his name, threw your head back when he began to thrust.

“I’m going to make you scream my name, I want you to scream for me, I want all of Manhattan to hear you crying on my dick.” He promised, and you could see it, could feel it, the way the monster was peeking through, the way his eyes had glazed over, so in love with you.

He built up a rhythm that had you shouting in no time, breath hot in his ear as he bit down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. His hips rolled against yours, ground into yours, and your knees dropped open from the pleasure of it, legs turning to jelly and jam, melting under his touch.

“Oh please,” It was your turn now, your turn to beg, as tears welled up in your eyes under his ministrations, as he fucked fucked fucked you, touched you.

And oh did he touch you everywhere, every linger of his fingers a reverence, a declaration. He fucked you, hard and rough, skin slapping on skin, with one foot planted on the floor to give him the amount of leverage he needed, to let him really slam his hips so hard against yours that it felt like he was fucking your throat -- but he did it with nothing short of wonder in his face, that he could have this, that he could have you.

Three years you’d been married, a lifetime of love before that, and still despite it all, he always considered himself so lucky to get to take you apart like this.

He lifted one of your legs where it had gone limp, lifted it up and over his shoulder so he could plow into you faster, harder, punching the air out of you, the high shouts and moans and gasps out of you. All of it was music to his ears, all of it was praise, and all of it only made him want to work harder, only made him crave you more deeply.

He growled, angry suddenly, angry that he couldn’t just do this all the time, couldn’t just live in your pussy like he wanted, and nearly snapped you in half as he manhandled you instead onto your hands and knees. He draped himself across your back, kissed your spine, the nape of your neck where he pushed all your hair away.

His body was a cage around yours as his hips shoved his cock deeper into you, a better angle, a better and more filling feeling, having him fuck you from behind. His arms were strong and the muscles there worked effortlessly to hold himself up as he ground into you, as his cock knocked up against your cervix in a way that was nearly painful.

He let one hand slide against your abdomen, let his hot and sweaty hand feel you. He swore he could feel your heartbeat in your pussy, right there for him, beating wildly and erratically just the way he was for you. He bit down on you hard, drank in the sound of your cries as that hand moved lower and lower, until he was toying with your clit, zig-zagging across it in a way that had your shoulder-blades pinching inwards as your arms gave out under you, your upper half collapsing down onto the cushions.

He wasn’t done with you, not even while you came, still pushing into you. He was hot, dripping sweat all over your back, his goatee scratching up your skin as he mouthed and sucked at you.

You could feel it, eventually, when he did come, when his hips finally pressed up against yours for the last time for the evening, when he crushed you into the couch with his weight.

“Honey?” You asked, voice muffled from where you were smushed into the couch.

“Uh huh?” Kylo panted, eyes shut tight, still coming inside you.

“Maybe don’t kill me on our anniversary.” You laughed, huffed a little, and he huffed out too, kissing the spot between your shoulders and rolling you both over.

He mis-calculated though, and you both rolled onto the floor with a yelp.

At least you landed on top of him, and laughed.

He looked up at you, always looking up at you, with such love in his eyes that you simply had to kiss him, you had to, so you did.

And if the two of you stayed there on the floor, on top of the plush rug of the living room, covered in sweat that was cooling to only a light itch, the great expanse of the city just outside your window, the Chrysler building all lit up, well, who could blame you?

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

The next day, you both found yourselves in Long Island.

Standing outside Leia’s door.

You held a casserole dish in your hands, one that was covered with tin foil, and Kylo was doing his very best not to bolt back to the car where Dopheld had parked it in the driveway.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, standing out front on the doorstep. “It’s not too late to turn back now, if you want.”

“No.” Kylo grit out, and your heart broke a little.

Before you could press him on the manner, he lifted his hand to ring the doorbell. He didn’t even get as far as making contact with the little button before the door swung open, revealing a very short, and very angry woman on the other side.

“Well!” Leia scoffed, “Look who actually decided to show up for lunch today.”

You winced, shutting your eyes so you wouldn’t bear witness to it, to the suffering you knew was going to come with this visit.

Leia hosted lunch every Monday. And just about every Monday, you and Kylo avoided it like the plague. It was supposed to be an attempt at bringing the family together, at reconnecting and healing old wounds, but it became clear after too many screaming matches and physical blows between family members, than it would be best if Kylo just…didn’t show up.

So he never did. You were always the one to call her, to let her know that oh, no, we’re so sorry but something’s come up. Every week without fail, she called and every week you were the one to answer. It had been nearly three months since Kylo had actually spoken aloud to his mother.

Which of course brought in a whole separate argument, one that Leia was gearing up to starting right now, right there on the front porch.

“Hi mom.” Kylo said, although he didn’t sound particularly thrilled. He didn’t even make an effort to attempt to smile.

“I’m shocked and surprised and honestly? A little disappointed.” Leia said in that way of hers that was supposed to cut deep, supposed to hit too close to home.

You wondered when that line was no longer drawn to even be able to be crossed any longer.

“Good to see you too mom.” Kylo kept it dry and to the point, because really, he wasn’t here to see Leia.

She threw her hands up in exasperation before taking the casserole from you.

The inside of the house was normal. Leia never liked the lavish lifestyle, not even when she was still running things with Han. Before Han, well. You tried not to think about that.

But it was a very normal, regular, suburban house. You couldn’t imagine living in it.

You directed your attention away from the furnishings and back to your husband, who was doing his absolute best not to explode. You held his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, you just knew his other one was balled into a fist where it was shoved in his trousers’ pocket.

You and Kylo were the first ones to show up to the lunch; Lando, Chewie, Luke, Wedge, and Rey all presumably on their way.

“No phone call, no visits – ” Leia starts, although she’s cut off by the arrival of Kylo’s Uncle.

Like Lando, Chewie wasn’t really related to Kylo in any way, but he had been Han’s best and most close companion, so he had more or less been indoctrinated into the family.

Things were the most tense between Chewie and Kylo though, so Kylo remained in his corner, silently glaring at the clock on the wall, as you made up for his rudeness with overly politeness on his behalf.

“Hey Uncle Chewie.” You said, leaning in to exchange greeting cheek kisses.

“It’s good to see you, (Y/N), been too long, eh?” Chewie smiled, his teeth unnervingly sharp.  

“You just drop in whenever it’s convenient to you, not caring about your poor mother.” Chewie’s comment sparked Leia’s whole spiel again.

“Mom, you’re many things but you’re not poor.” Kylo finally snapped, before exhaling deeply out of his nose and asking, “Where’s Rey?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking. My back is fine, thanks for asking.” Leia spit back at him, purposefully being difficult.

“How’s your back?” Kylo asked dryly, a hard stare on his face.

“It’s fine.” Leia sarcastically replied.

“And you wonder why I don’t come.” Kylo muttered under his breath, shook his head and you spared him a glance.

This was a mistake, of course it was a mistake, and you were upset with yourself for not fighting Kylo on the subject further. He was literally backed into a corner, had situated himself in a corner of the kitchen where the two counter-tops converged, and he was starting to lose his patience to a point where you worried about how close he was to the knife block.

“You’re lucky I don’t hand you over to the police right now.” Leia sneered, but Kylo only scoffed.

“Go ahead.” He dared, voice even and deep, eyes hard, knowing that even if she did, even if she called her precious pig Poe, they’d not find a single damn thing on him, on any of you.

“Mrs. Organa, will Rey be coming today?” You asked lightly but firmly, wanting to respect her in her home but also stand up for your husband, and to get an answer. If Rey wouldn’t be there, you’d yank him out and take him back to Manhattan in a heartbeat.

“Of course she’s coming – unlike one of my children, Rey has respect for tradition and family.” Leia replied, passive-aggressive.

“We’re taking Midtown from her.” Kylo said, making both her, and Chewie – who had been rifling through the fridge this whole time to try and find a beer – freeze.

“You’re doing what?” Chewie asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Midtown. We’re taking it away from her.” You nodded, answered for Kylo who had officially moved away from the knife block and had come to stand behind you, arms taking their place around your middle.

It was quiet for a long while, as Leia and Chewie looked at one another for a moment.

“I hope you’re prepared for an argument.” She said, for once not entirely venomous.

“I’m always prepared for an argument with you people.” Kylo muttered again, distracting himself with kissing your neck slightly.

“What Kylo means,” You interpreted, as Kylo nosed at the exposed skin from where your blouse’s neckline revealed, “Is that we know it’s going to upset her, that’s why we wanted to announce it here, where she could be comfortable. We didn’t want to show up at her house like last time to tell her.”

“Tell who what?” A voice asked from the living room, followed by the sound of the closing of the front door.

Kylo took a deep breath – but Leia beat him to the punch, leaving the kitchen to go greet her daughter.

“They’re taking away Midtown from you.” She told Rey before anyone else could even do so much as blink, as she hugged Rey, who had gone stiff as a board.

“Mom!” Kylo snapped --

“You’re what?” Rey shouted at the same time.

Kylo hid firmly behind you as Rey stalked, lethal into the kitchen with her teeth bared. She was so feral when she was angry – they all were, but for some reason she reminded you more of Anakin than anyone else.

“Listen kid, that part of the city is a fucking mess and is only getting worse ever since we let you handle it.” Kylo said it, plain and simple, but Rey didn’t agree.

“No it hasn’t!” She protested, storming more and more into the kitchen.

You remained unflinching, a literal barrier between them.

“We heard from some of the KoR this morning, there’s been three break-ins and four murders in the last 5 days. The thing with Lenny isn’t an isolated incident. The police are starting to call it a crisis and they’ve got cars patrolling the area now. Word on the street is people are saying Hell’s Kitchen is going back to how it was when Brendol was running it, and we just can’t have that.” You said, trying to explain it to her the most calm and collected way you could.

Kylo was growing more and more riled, more and more irritated in a way that was nothing but danger.

“Some of our associates are calling me, saying there’s no way to get a hold of you, you don’t return anyone’s calls, you’re never in the fucking office.” He said, running a hand through his hair so he didn’t punch his sister in the face, “I’m sorry Rey but we can’t risk anything more over there. We’re pulling you from Midtown.”

Rey wasn’t happy.

“You can’t do that.” She shook her head, fuming, “I won’t let you do that. I’ve got too much going on right now for this shit.”

“What? What’s going on? You can tell us Rey we want to make sure there’s no trouble.” Leia asked, put herself into this mix.

“No I can’t fucking tell you.” Rey groaned as she scrubbed a hand down her face.

“Is it Gwen?” Leia asked again, not dropping it, “I thought things were going well between you.”

“It’s not – listen my sex life has nothing to do with this.” Rey shouted, and there we go, you thought, let the shouting begin.

“Rey.” Kylo suddenly went dead still, his hand frozen from where it had been tensing against your stomach, “Are you running business behind my fucking back?”

Everyone, including yourself raised their brows at that, at that assumption, that conclusion, that question. You searched his face for where the hell he had come up with that, but Rey lunged at Kylo’s throat before you could even question him about it.

You were caught in the cross-fire for all of two seconds, before Kylo quickly stepped in front of you so you wouldn’t get hurt, as the siblings literally wrestled to the fucking floor.

“Should we stop them?” Chewie asked, but you shook your head.

“No, not yet.” Leia agreed, “Not until she get’s in a good swing at least.”

That made you roll your eyes, made you want to throw a fist of your own, but you restrained yourself. This really wasn’t supposed to have been a brawl, but Rey and Kylo were now punching the shit out of one another, fighting dirty, using all the tricks in the book and shouting at each other in the process.

They had knives drawn, little switch-blades hidden in boots and coat pockets, and were doing a real number on trying to cut the other’s tongue out, trying to slice throats, trying to gouge out eyes.

“No, I’m not running any fucking business behind your back!” Rey slapped Kylo hard across the cheek, and in response he wrestled her around and slammed the back of her head against the hard tile floor.

The sharp crack made everyone wince.  

“Then what the fuck is up?” Kylo demanded, deranged, the both of them crazy, practically frothing at the mouth with hate for one another.

“I’m going to school!” Rey screamed in his face, making everyone let out a sound of confusion.

“…What?” Kylo asked, dumbfounded, panting, as he held his blade up to her throat.

“I started school, you fucking jackass. I’m getting my degree.” Rey explained, “The reason I’m gone all the time is because I have classes and exams, god you’re so selfish, not everything revolves around you, Boss.”

“Rey that’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us?” Leia asked, clasping her hands in front of her like her two children were not currently trying to actively murder one another with weapons they were far too trained to use.

You walked over calmly and placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, a silent order for him to get up, and he did. He stuck his blade back in his pocket, and you saw a flash of the guns he had in his holster as he did so. You were lucky it hadn’t come to that.

“I didn’t want to be cross-examined for every single fucking choice I make, let alone by this one.” Rey sighed, before standing up and brushing the struggle off of her clothes, saying again, “I’m going to school.”

But...

Something…was off, from the way she said it.

Something in the way she avoided eye contact, the way her voice raised in register slightly, the way there was a minor tremor in her tone.

You chalked it up to just having fought with Kylo but…that sounded like a lie.

And as if she had telepathic powers, Rey met your eyes, and you could see there was worry there, anxiety.

Why would she lie?

“Listen Rey, we’re sorry that it all came out like this, but maybe this is for the better.” You said, not really paying attention to the words you were saying, much more interested in reading her face, scouring her gaze for any hint, any offering, any clue as to what was going on in her head. Your mouth was on autopilot while you scanned her, took in everything to account, from her posture to her breathing, “Now you can focus on your coursework and not worry about running forty-blocks worth of the city.”

“(Y/N), if you didn’t scare the shit out of me so much, I’d really hate you right now.” Rey said.

That at the very least was truthful.

“I know.” You replied, not smiling, not even giving a fake one. Kylo looked at you hard, and he could tell that you knew something was up. “You can hate me all you’d like, but we’re still pulling you from Midtown.” You said.

“I think we’d better leave.” Kylo interjected, before anyone had a chance to say anything else.

You nodded in agreement, and smoothed your hair down. It had been a roller-coaster of twenty-four fucking hours, that was for sure.

You took Kylo’s hand and simply walked out of the kitchen, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

“Oh so you’re not even going to stay for lunch? After all that?” Leia was incredulous, following the two of you out into the parking lot.

What timing, you thought, as Luke was just parking his car next to yours.

“No, I don’t really think that’s a very good idea.” You said, giving her a falsely apologetic glare that she saw right through. “You guys enjoy, we’ll see you soon.” You lied, only nodding in passing to Luke who was visibly confused as to the presence of you and Kylo – or rather, more like your departure.

Dopheld must have had a sixth sense, because he had already started up the car and warmed the seats, ready for you and Kylo to sit comfortably in the back.

When the house and the neighborhood were firmly far enough away for Kylo to release a breath, you tried to lighten up the mood.

“Well that went about as well as it was going to.” You gave a sad smile, heart breaking for him, for how his relationship with his family was so damaged, had only grown more and more damaged over the years.

“It could have been worse.” He shrugged, jaw set, even as he lit up a cigarette and sucked down the nicotine anxiously, opened the window just a crack so that he could blow the smoke away.

“How?” You asked, and he swiped his thumb across his face, wiping away a trickle of blood that had oozed out from a sliver thin slice Rey had managed to nick into his cheek.

“She could have cut my face up again.” He said, making you both smile.

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

Tagging some mob loving pals! As always, if you’d like to be on the list or taken off, please just let me know <3  @adamsnackdriver​ @dreamboatdriver​ @kyloxfem​ @heldcaptivebychaos​ @kylo-renne​ @callmehopeless​ @solotriplets​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @lookinsidemyhead​ @candycanes19​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @the-wayward-rose​ @taylovren-types​  magikevalynn  tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov​  romancedeldiablo @elfieboxcat (I’m sorry my dear it won’t let me tag you!)

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo/reader #mob boss #mob au #each eye #my writing #kylo ren au #modern au

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Why don’t we share?

Summary: Pan and Felix walk in on you.

Pairings: Pan x Reader x Felix

Warnings: not full on smut, just oral, lol, Some really and I mean REALLY bad dirty talking. I'm sorry if it's bad.

**This is to say thank you to everyone for 500 followers and also for sticking with me**

His piercing blue eyes were like slits, eyebrows knitted together and lips slightly parted as he focused on the wooden target hanging from a tree limb, it was that expression on his face which made him look adorable. Felix had always been a reserved and emotionless, trying not to let anything show on his cold, untouched features, but that expression made him look vulnerable for once. Slender fingers tightly hooked themselves around the wooden bow as he stretched the arrow back as far as he possibly could before the thin string would snap. In one quick motion his fingers lost there grip, wishing fair well to the arrow before it soared across the sky, spinning and twirling in delight as it flew and berried it's sharp head into the now splintered wood.

"Not bad, Felix." Our leader proudly commented, his arms folded as he leaned his body against the rough bark of a tree.

His broken emerald eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for his next pray that he would pluck out of the group and force to come up and shoot. They darted from: Ed, to Liam, to Noah, to James, Oliver, then Elijah. I silently let out a breath of relief which I didn't know I was holding in as his eyes skipped over me, I hated shooting in front of the boys, I wasn't any good at it. Those evergreen orbs danced along the crowd of boys before he had spotted his next victim.

"Devin," he pointed, "why don't you come up and have a go?"

With a smug expression the boy proudly made his way towards Felix, yanking the strong bow out of his hands, but my eyes were wondering else where. They lingered over the king of the island, Pan, there was something about him which drew me in. The way his jaw locked and eyes flooded with determination made me fall for him, his chestnut brown hair swept perfectly over those green eyes, but the power and authority he had made him even more attractive. 

If falling for the Demon king himself wasn’t bad, there was also another person on the island I had seemed to take an interest in: Felix. If I were to stick you in a room with these two boys and asked you to identify one as a Devil and one as an angle I am almost certain you would get them the wrong way round, Felix's intimidating scar and dark eyes would put you off at first sight and even make the bravest people a little uncomfortable. He towers over people like a sky scraper and the heavy, wooden club he always had slung over his shoulders wasn’t doing his caring side any favors, but even thought he seems mysterious and dark like a twisted magician he’s actually the sweeter of the two. The boy who would never grow up looked more like the sweet, innocent angle at first glance, but the devil never comes dressed as your worst nightmare, he comes dressed as everything you’ve ever wanted.

Devin raises his arms and focused of the target ahead before letting the arrow cut through the air and bury itself in the target, landing just below Felix's shot.

"Dammit." Devin quietly cursed to himself before angrily stomping up to the wooden target, like a three year old, and bitterly pulling the arrow out. Gripping it so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, he made his way towards Pan, handing the tools back to him before standing with the crowd once more.

“You’ve done well today boys.” He announced with a proud grin, “I think it’s time we had a little fun.” 

The boys roared in excitement, eager to play a game and unwind for the day, after all the island is basically one big playground. They all argued among themselves over what game to play as my eyes sank to the dirt floor, occasionally I would look up. Seeing the happy smile on Pan's face as he and Felix watched the boys, once in a while their eyes would meet mine but only ever do often, until it became frequent. Every time my eyes flicked towards them they would already be staring back at me, an attractive smile played in their lips before diverting their eyes once again. I could feel my face flush red at their actions, did this mean something or am I reading into it too much?

"Hide and seek!" A boy from the crowed yelled out, snapping me out if my thoughts.

"No! No! Truth or dare!" Another bellowed, the boys seemed intrigued but the look on Peter's face told me he was far from impressed.

"What about..." he trailed, a slender finger resting in those pink lips of his as he pondered, "truth or dare or die."

I could feel my blood run cold, I was in no mood to be doing dirty dares or spilling secrets, let alone die.

Hollers and cheers could be heard from every nook and crannie on the island, the boys all rushed back to camp in a hurry, excited and ready to play. I on the other hand trudged along, not fully aware of the tow boys which were quickly following after me.

"Y/n." The sound of Felix's husky voice pulled me out of the little world inside my head.

"O-oh... um hi." I stuttered.

His thick eye brows knitted together, "Are you ok? You're acting strange."

"Yeah, I-I'm fine." I responded, maybe a little too fast for the second in commands liking.

"Are you sure, love?" Peter cut in, his thick British accent ringing in my ears, "you're face is a little pink, are you sure you're not sick?"

Before the pair could bombard me with anymore questions we had reached the camp, the lost boys waiting patiently in a circle on the floor. Pan and Felix strolled over, squeezing into the crowd of boys as they got ready to play.

"Y/n, are you not going to join us?" James piped up, casting a glace in my direction.

"Not tonight, I think I'm just gonna turn in early." I spoke up before my feet began to guide me towards my tree house.

"What's the matter?" One of the boys chimed in a mocking tone, "are you scared?"

"No, what's there to be scared of its just a stupid game." I shot back.

"Then come and play." They demanded, acting high and night in order to make the other boys laugh.

"Just one round Y/n," Felix chimed wearing a sweet smile in his pink lips, "please."

"Fine." I angrily muttered, making my way over to the boys before plonking myself down in between Noah and David.

And so the games began, James went first, "Nick, truth or dare." He asked in a sinister voice.

"Dare." He replied without hesitation, sitting up a little taller and a little prouder.

"I dare you to... remove your socks with your teeth!" The lost boys laughed at the strange request as Nicks legs flailed around in the air. Grabbing his foot he bought it as close to his mouth as he could before stripping his feet from them.

"Easy." He cockily proclaimed, his eyes scanned the crowed searching for his victim, "Josh, truth or dare."

The curly haired boy looks startled, looking up with a confused look etched into his face, "um... truth?"

He pondered for a minute, tapping his slender finger on his chin in thought, "if you were a girl for one hour, what would you do?"

The poor boy couldn't say a word, he only blushed in response.

"Well we all know what he's thinking." Pan laughed, the rest of the crowd quickly joining in, even I had to suppress a little giggle.

"Ok, ok, I want to ask a question." Pan insisted, "Felix, truth or dare."

"Dare." He bravely spoke, not skipping a beat.

"I dare you to fill your mouth with water and each person in the group must tell the funniest joke they know. If you spit up the water, you have to eat a spoonful of dirt." The boy grinned.

One by one the boys took it upon themselves to try and make the stone faced second in command laugh, each and everyone one of them failing miserably, until it got to Lucas.

“Two elephants meet a totally naked guy.”  He begins, already the rest of the lost boys are shooting him weird glances, “after a while one elephant said to the other: ‘I don’t get how he can feed himself with that thing!’”

Sure enough Felix spat the water out of his mouth laughing so hard he was almost crying. After he had calmed down he soon remember that consequence, is eyes hopped over to Pan, silently pleading with him.

"A dares a dare Felix." He smirked and the blind boy shoved a spoon full of dirt into his mouth, Felix's features scrunched up in disgust and distaste as he swallowed.

As the game continued the dares became more and more dirty, Danny was forced to admit that he had a crush on Noah and after that they got bombarded with dares such as: "sit on his lap for the rest of the game", "kiss" and "make out". Of course they didn't seem to mind, but I sure did when I was dares to kiss Elijah, I wasn't sure if it was just my eyes playing tricks in me but two particular boys didn't seem very happy about it.

"I want to ask a dare." Oliver enthusiastically proclaimed, "Y/n, truth or dare?"

I could feel my blood run cold, I didn't expect to get picked again and I certainly didn't want to make our with another lost boy, well those who weren't Pan or Felix.

"Truth." I happily stated.

He thought for a moment, wondering what to say, "which would you rather sleep with, Pan or Felix?" He asked.

No.

No way this is happening to me.

I don't even know which one if them I prefer, a pink dust coated my cheeks as I though about it, just for a moment.

"Aww, look at that, she's blushing." Noah said, his arms still wrapped around Danny's torso.

"Maybe she has a crush on one of them." Someone from the crowd spoke up.

"Or maybe both." Another yelled out.

Pan raised an eyebrow at the boys remarks, "You think so boys? Well then, Oliver I grant you permission to change the question."

"What! That's not fair!" I bellowed.

"My island, my rules. Besides love I think we all already know the answer." He stated and by the way I had been acting he was probably right.

"Yes, I like both of you." I mumbled under my breath, but it was too late, the boys were already silently waiting in anticipation, my words cut through the air seeming more like a speaker on full volume rather than a barely audible whisper.

"There's no need to be shy, love." Peter exclaim sending a quick wink my way before letting out a low chuckle and licking his pink lips.

"O-ok... well I'm going to bed now.... night boys." I rushed to my feet and sprinted to my tree house before anyone could protest.

I shut myself in, slamming the heavy oak wood door behind me, the feeling of dread and embarrassment washed over my tiny frame as I leaned against the door. I would no doubt endure teasing tomorrow in the following days to come, and on top of that I had to see Pan and Felix everyday.

Without saying a word I quietly climbed in between the crisp, untouched covers of my bed, closing my eyes and letting my thoughts take over.

My mind played back to the two boys, as if often did, and the question Oliver had asked me. I didn't need a mirror to see I was as red as a tomato just from the thought of it.

Imagining Pan's hands gripping my hips and Felix's fingers trailing over my body sent shivers down my spine, as goosebumps littered my arms in excitement. I could feel that pleasant tingly feeling grow more and more intense as my fantasies continued to play out in my head, my hand slipped inside my underwear, lightly toying with myself before I heard a creek outside. Swiftly scanning the area, I saw that no one was there, quickly I discarded it as my imagination, the boys were too preoccupied with their game.

Soft moans escaped from my lips as I pushed my fingers in and out, letting myself get taken over by bliss.

"Hello, love." A familiar British accent rung clear in the air as I grew still, not daring to move it even breath while the hairs on the back of my neck stood tall and proud.

When I mustered up enough courage to meet his gaze I saw he wasn't the only figure leaning against my wooden door frame, there the leader and his second in command stood, smirks on there faces with lust clouding their dark eyes.

"Um...." I blushed bright red, trying desperately to cover up my exposed skin but it was already too late, their eyes had already danced across my body, drinking every inch of it up, I had never felt more embarrassed in my life.

“There’s no need to try and hide princess.” Felix spoke, his voice growing huskier by the second as the two boy’s made their way inside my room, sitting beside me on my bed like I were a trapped animal with nowhere else to go.

“Tell us, love...” Pan began, combing his fingers through my h/l h/c hair as he softly spoke before staring at me with those evergreen eyes, “Were you thinking about us?”

I was unable to say anything, I just sat there shocked at the leaders words as he continued to stare at me.

“Well?” Felix chimed in, placing a hand on the part of my thigh the blanket didn’t quite cover.

“Y-Yeah...” I managed to breathily stutter out, what is happening? They had never shown any interest in me before, so why now? Is it because I know seem like an easy target, or is it something more?

“You know,” the blonde angle to my right gently whispered, his warm breath tickled the side of my neck, “this is an island of imagination...”

soft, wet kisses were littered up and down my neck as long blonde hair brushed upon the side of my face, his hands travelling higher and higher until they just about reached the placed I wanted him to touch me the most as my breath hitched in my throat. I was practically begging them for it, for anything, but just as quickly as this had all happened, it stopped.

“But we’re not going to do it unless you want us too, love. We’re willing to play nice and share, but only if you’re willing too.” Pan spoke, his breath tickled my ear lob, sending shivers to dance up and down my spine, “What do you say?”

without uttering a word I nodded at them, giving them all the consent and confirmation they needed. The king started to attack my neck, leaving love bites and hickey’s all over my s/c skin like a tattoo while is second in command lightly traced his fingers over my entrance.

“She’s so wet already.” He smirked to his friend who returned the favor, swiftly sliding his hands down to feel for himself.

“Naughty girl.” The leader whispered, those two, simple words were enough to make my cravings for these boys intensify as I bit my lip.

Without warning Pan slipped his fingers inside, causing a moan to tumble from my lips as he pumped in and out at an agonizingly slow pace while Felix massaged my breast sending waves of pleasure to course through my body. The second in command leaned in closer, hungrily smashing his lips to mine as Pan worked his magic.

“Fuck.” I whined, missing the way he made me feel, as the king pulled his fingers out of me. They glistened and dripped before he placed them in his mouth licking them clean.

“It’s not fair if we’re giving all you the pleasure darling, don’t you think?” he British boy asked me, 

A smirk spread on my face as I licked and sucked on the boys neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses all the way down to the hem of his shirt before removing it. my journey of kisses continued all the way down his toned chest until I got to the hem of his trousers. Hooking my fingers around his waistband I slowly pulled them down, letting his cock spring out and hit his stomach before taking it into my hands and licking it from base to tip. sharply inhaling at the pleasure it gave him, his fingers tangled themselves into my hair as I continued to tease him a little. My other hand was working on Felix’s trousers, unbuttoning them and taking his dick to my hands, slowly pumping him as he blissfully grunted.

“Stop teasing me.” Pan exclaimed with heavy breaths, I took him into my mouth, circling around the tip and licking up his shaft while grunts poured out of his mouth, “Fuck.” 

Giving the king of Neverland one final lick before before switching to his trusty second in command, the blonde boy moaned as my tongue ran round and round his tip in circles before taking all of his cock into my mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ok so I'm going to be posting this in two parts because I don't feel like this is that good tbh and Idk how the smut thing is going..... help please?

I hope you liked it so far and I'm sorry it was a little slow in the beginning! ❤😘 xxxx

#ouat fan fiction #ouat fanfiction #ouat fic #ouat #ouat season 3 #ouat s3 #ouat peter pan #ouat peter imagine #ouat felix #ouat felix imagine #felix x reader #felix imagines #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

[ohtheseboysilove]

Too far (2) [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 6, 200 k + (I got a little carried away)

Summary : Roger and Reader were having fun until he went too far with another girl.

Note : Quite different from the first part but I quite like it ! I promise the nice anonym who asked about this fic to post it this week so here it is, hope u like it lovies ;)

No warnings.

"Where is (Y/N) ?"

Roger’s lips disappeared into a thin line when he heard Freddie’s words. Of course he would asked about you. He absolutely adored you. As well as Roger did. But he fucked up everything and now he would have to listen to his band mates giving him a lesson about how stupid he had been.

"Not here" The drummer grumbled and he reluctantly made his way to the dressing, not in the mood to make conversation.

Three days after the fight, he was still moping about it, hating himself to destroy the best thing in his life.

"And why that ? She is the best at highlighter and eyeliners !" Fred complained, admiring the way the bodysuit was making his arse looked in the mirror.

They were having a photo shoot today to promote the recent album and, usually, you tagged around, loving to doll up the boy and especially Roger.

"She was busy" The blond lied and grabbed the clothes resting on chair for him.

The lead singer plopped a hideous hat on his head and came closer to his band mate, looking at him suspiciously.

"What did you do, Roger fucking Taylor ?" He groaned and crossed his arms, his foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

Brian and John glanced at the drummer, curious to hear the story too.

"I fucked up, alright ? I had been bloody stupid and now, whatever was between us, is over” Roger mumbled, his cheeks red under their intense gazes. He was ashamed to tell what he did. "Can we focus on our work now ?”

"You better tell me now what you did, I’m not leaving this—"

"Don’t use big words now Fred, we’re suppose to do the makeup in two minutes" Deaky cut him and the singer took a deep, annoyed breath.

"After the photo shoot, you explain everything" He shoved a finger into Roger’s chest before storming out of the room.

"Fuckin’ drama queen" The drummer cursed and quickly buttoned his pants, shaking his head.

"He just want to help, Rog" Brian gently said, resting his hand on his band mate’ shoulder. "He is acting like a little bitch but he saw how you like (Y/N). He is not blind, neither I am or John"

The drummer didn’t answer and watched his friend leaving with an encouraging smile. He inspired and expired few times, blinking away the tears pooling at the corner of his eyes and once he was sure he wouldn’t sob pathetically, he followed his friend.

**

"I let that chick, the one who stayed with me most of the evening at your party, I let her suck me in the bathroom" The drummer admitted and immediately earned a concert of groaning.

"Tosser" Deaky commented and rolled his eyes, not very surprise. "Why on earth did you do that ?"

"Aren’t you the two of you a thing ? Or at least, was ?" Brian frowned his brows a bit lost, his friend was an enigma sometimes.

"We weren’t officially together" Roger breathed quietly. "It was a mistake and now I broke her heart" His shoulders sunk under the culpability, your crying face still lingering in his mind.

"Alright, I really want to kick your ass because you bloody deserved it but, you look like a sad puppy so I take it like you regret it enough" Freddie said and the drummer nodded, shame drowning him. "Fine, what did you do to make (Y/N) forgive you ?"

"Nothing’" Roger mumbled, his hand rubbing awkwardly on the back of his neck. And by the look on Freddie’s face, he knew it had been a mistake to reply that. "She told me to not bother calling her" He weakly defended himself and Brian smacked dramatically his hand against his face.

"Roger ! Honestly are you daft or something ?" Freddie scolded him as he fished a cigarette from his packet.

"So you didn’t try to contact her for the last three days ?" John asked with arched brows, wondering what was wrong with him. Roger’s ears burned and he felt like he maybe misread the situation. When he shook negatively his head, the bassist sighed. "She must feel like shit now"

"You cheat on her and then you don’t even fucking apologise ?" The lead singer exclaimed, slapping Roger’s head, calling him a stupid fucker.

"I didn’t cheat on her ! We weren’t even together properly speaking ! And she kissed that Ricky guy before, just to piss me off !" The drummer suddenly stood up, he was already feeling guilty, he didn’t need his band mates to make him felt worse.

"Please, don’t try to compare in front her a kiss and sucking a dick, Roger. Or you will end up with a bleeding nose" Deaky commented casually, he was already changing in his normal clothes, eager to go back home early.

"I always said that your and (Y/N)’s relationship was bloody weird. And unhealthy" Brian groaned. "Kissing people around to end up fucking each other at the end of the night...who on earth do that ?"

"Piss off Brian" Roger grunted with annoyance. "Coming from someone who cheat on his wife, it’s a pretty audacious thing to say"

Before the curly man could bite back, his eyes shinning with anger, Freddie stepped in front of his band mates, raising his hands to calm them.

"Both of you can shut up, we’re not here to do Roger’s trial. Or Brian’s" The two musicians glared at each other but didn’t reply. "We here because our drummer is incredibly stupid when it’s about relationship" John cackled and completely ignored the blond death glare. "And we all know that if (Y/N) doesn’t come back to you, you’re gonna be a right pain in the ass"

"Always is” The guitarist muttered and barely avoid the shoe threw by his band mate.

"Roger, you’re gonna move your butt from this sofa and go buy (Y/N) a nice gift before dragging your sorry ass to her place and apologise"

The drummer shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t good at apologising. Always saying the wrong thing and ending with making the situation worse than before.

"She don’t want to see me”

"Of course she don’t want to ! You cheat and didn’t call her, the poor girl probably thinking you don’t give a fuck about her" Freddie exclaimed and tugged Roger’s arm, forcing him to stand up. "Go, now"

The drummer mumbled something and quickly changed back into his clothes before sliding on his shoes, his mind thinking about what he could buy you. He wasn’t even sure if you would open the door to him.

"What if she don’t let me see her ?"

"You bloody sleep in her hallway if you have to"

The advice came from Brian and Roger nodded simply, murmuring a low awesome before walking to the closest shop.

**

Roger found himself into a Tesco, wondering hopelessly through the supermarket shelves. Maybe going to a fuckin’ Tesco wasn’t his smartest idea. He passed the kids toys and refused to buy a stupid teddy bear because you would certainly hate it.

He spent more than fifteen minutes looking at the beauty products, grabbing perfume and creams then put it back. The perfumes were awfully cheap — you’re in a fuckin’ Tesco! — and the creams weren’t really nice to offer in his opinion. It was like saying ‘hey here some anti-ageing cream for you, it’s deeply needed!’

Then he thought that a box of chocolates could be nice. Sweet food always worked with you. But even with his deepest efforts, he was struggling remembering which flavour you liked. Certainly not something with mints or fruits, you were more classic flavours.

White, milk or dark. He could perfectly remember that night where you had smoke a join together, naked in his bed and talked about chocolate for a good half an hour. There was only one flavour you would eat but he couldn’t put the finger on which one it was, you deeply hated the two other. He was almost certain it wasn’t the white one, no human normally constituted would like to eat that awful type of chocolate.

It must be milk or dark and if he had to place a bet he would say dark but he wasn’t utterly sure about that. And if he brought you the wrong one, you would certainly throw it in his face and he would make the situation worse. So he forgot about that, no chocolate.

And now he maybe found an idea for you. The red bottle caught his eyes when he walked past by and he was really considering buying it. Perhaps you would find the gift original and funny. Or insulting and too presumptuous. But at least with this one, he was sure what was your favourite flavour. He knew it because he saw this same little bottle a handful of time in your overnight bag. He also used it too, more than once. And you always insisted about how this special brand and flavour was your absolutely favourite, perfectly doing the job and even more.

"Fuck it" Roger muttered and grabbed the little bottle adorning by the tittle cheeky cherry. Yes, he was about to buy lub as an apologetic gift. He was sure Fred would has loved the idea, his two other band mates in the other hand...probably less.

His gaze fell on the bigger bottle next the little one and he swapped them. The drummer wasn’t a bloody tight-wad and really wanted to be forgiven. He paid his single product then walked toward the wrapping station, an old lady ogling him nastily. Yeah, he was probably looking like a serial fucker, putting a stupid bow on a bottle of lub but whatever, you would have loved the gesture, certainly cackling at it if you weren’t absolutely mad at Roger.

"No wrapping, just a red bow please" The drummer mumbled as he dropped the bottle on the counter, feeling the weird look of the boy on him.

"You’re aware it’s a bottle of lub, mate ?" The young employee said, seeming absolutely jaded to be here.

The blond contained himself to not just roll his eyes and telling him to piss off. "I am very aware of what I just bought, mate" Roger scoffed and the boy just arched his brow but didn’t add anything.

The way the employee was loudly chewing on his gum was driving him mad and as soon as he was done with the bow, Roger threw the first note he found in his wallet and put the lub back into his shopping bag.

"You know it’s free of charge, right ?" The young man commented lazily and Roger bit the inside of his cheek, wondering why he was so daft.

"The fuck is wrong with you ? I’m giving you money and yet, you’re complaining" He harshly replied and took back the note, shoving it furiously into his pocket.

"I can’t keep it anyway, supermarket policy" He shrugged, not a tad offended by Roger’s tone.

"Bloody fantastic" The drummer sarcastically said and left in a hurry, hating this day even more.

**

Now he was in front of your flat door, nervously rubbing his chest. He entered the building because someone was apparently moving out, leaving the front door wide open. His fingers held tighter the bouquet of flowers — he bought them after the supermarket — and breathed out quietly. His Tesco bag hanging on his arm, he ran a hand on his hair then knocked on the door.

"Yeah ?" Your face fell as soon as you recognised Roger at your front door, wearing an awkward smile.

"Hey" You didn’t reply and stared at him angrily. "How have you been ?" The drummer cursed himself at his awful starter.

"I have been bloody amazing, Taylor" You sarcastically bit back and started to close the door. "Now can you fuck off ?"

"Wait! (Y/N), please, gimme a minute" He breathed out in hurry, stressed that you would close the door in his face. "I’m here to apologise for the other night"

He looked frankly desperate. Lost. Like a deer caught in headlights. You knew he wasn’t really the guy who usually apologise. But today you didn’t care.

"I don’t want any of your apologies" You replied with a cold voice and the drummer seems surprise by your anger, probably expecting the flowers to make you melt or something.

"(Y/N), baby, please...I feel awful for what I did and I need to apologise—"

"You’re three days late for that, Taylor" You cut him and slammed the door, feeling a tiny bit better for this small victory. Stupid really and it wouldn’t last long but you needed anything to cheer you up these days.

You could hear him cursed loudly then the bag dropped on the floor, you could picture him seated in your hallway, ridiculously out of place with his flashy and rocky clothes.

"I’m gonna stay here until you let me properly apologise (Y/N)” He yelled threw the door, feeling absolutely stupid but determined to win this argument. He wanted to be forgiven so badly.

You didn’t reply and went back at your life, the thought of the blond seating your hallway pushed in the back of your mind.

**

Around ten in the evening, you heard loud voices outside your door and curiously peered through the door.

"I’m not a bloody homeless!" The drummer hissed dramatically, now standing next to one of your neighbours, Mrs Smith, an old lady who was openly racist and homophobic and everything that made young people growing angry against the old ones.

"This is unacceptable ! You can’t sleep in our building, it’s a private property young man !” She bite back and pushed back her round, big glasses on the back of her nose. "You need to find a job, not waiting around to steal money from honest and good people, you punk ! "

"But I have a bloody job ! I’m the drummer for Queen, the rock band !” Roger crosses his arms but the lady didn’t even budge at the name of Queen. "Whatever” He scoffed and sat back on the floor, ignoring the furious glance of the old woman.

"I’m going to call the police, Sir" She threatened and the blond snorted loudly giving her a thumb up. "I’m serious !"

"Go ahead, you would probably be dead by the time they arrived anyway" You couldn’t control the heartily laugh who escaped your lips and the both of them turned toward your door, surprised. You clapped a hand on your mouth and they quickly went back to the argument. "I’m waiting for my girlfriend, alright ? We had a fight and it’s all my fault and now I’m waiting for her so piss off" Roger couldn’t give a damn about being rude to her, the stupid things she said in such short amount of time...she totally deserved it.

She mumbled something between her teeth but entered her flat anyway, giving Roger a last nasty glance. He replied with a fake smile and a little sarcastic wave.

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest after the word girlfriend that you almost didn’t heard Roger spoke to you :

"I’m glad I made you laugh, doll”

You shook your head, he was such a charmer and you would be really stupid to fall back right in his arms. So you stayed silent and walked to bed, the ache in your heart a tad less painful than the day before.

**

Around two in the morning you woke up to pee and couldn’t repress the need to peer through the door. Roger was still here, seating against the wall, his head slightly falling on the side, his mouth apart and you knew he would have a sore neck tomorrow morning. He was cute, you couldn’t denied that. A shiver ran through his body and he automatically clenched his black weather jacket tighter around him, his face twisted with discomfort

"Fuckin’ hell" You cursed but grabbed the little fluffy blanket on the sofa and silently opened the front door.

You wrapped it around his body, knowing that you couldn’t back to sleep with the thought of Roger freezing his balls off in your hallway. You went back inside and finished your night, feeling better after that.

**

You weren’t surprise when you woke up to see that the drummer was still deeply asleep. It was only five in the morning after all. Your shift on Thursday was always early until midday so most of the building was still sleeping. Sometime during the night Roger drifted on the floor, his hands acting like a pillow under his head and the rest of his body curling like a foetus. Your pink blanket tightly held by his arms.

You get yourself ready, sipping your cuppa through the process, mind still half asleep, checking nervously if Roger was still sleeping. You didn’t wanted to confront him so early and before work, you didn’t have the energy for that. Thankfully when you made your way out, the drummer was still snoring. You placed a hot cup of tea next to him, cursing yourself for being too nice to this asshole but you couldn’t help yourself. You knew how hard it was for him in the morning, he loved his good sleep and couldn’t function properly without his tea. Or else he would be a nightmare for his band mates, even worse after sleeping in a hallway.

After all, it wasn’t Freddie, Brian or Deaky’s fault, they didn’t deserve a piss off drummer for their day.

That was your excuse for the sweet gesture, nothing about Roger obviously.

**

When the drummer opened his eyes, every fibres of his body were sore, he knew immediately something was wrong. The feelings was deeply hooked into his chest. The lights were too bright and the mattress wasn’t at all comfortable. That when the events of the night came back, he was in your hallway and he missed you when you went out.

"Oh for god’ sake !" Roger groaned and massaged his sore arms. He just slept at your front of your door for literally nothing.

He felt desperate and useless. Maybe you wouldn’t forgive him at all. During his sleep he crushed the — very expensive —bouquet flower he bought you and he cursed even louder. His head rolled against the walls and his heart tightened painfully. He was worried, extremely worried. About you. About a possible us with you. But the task was more complicated than it appeared to be.

"Fuckin’ cunt you had been !” Roger spat, his eyes slightly burning from the urge to cry. He couldn’t lose you.

But he didn’t cry. Instead, his gaze fell on the fluffy blanket covering his legs then the cuppa clearly waiting for him not far away and a bright smile curled on his face. The tea was lucky warm by now but he couldn’t care less, the thought of you caring enough for him t bring a cuppa and a blanket made the butterflies in his belly crazy.

Maybe all of this wasn’t useless as he thought he was. Maybe there was hope.

**

Roger was waiting for (Y/N) to finish work. It was in less than two hours and for now, the drummer was seating in a little café, taking his breakfast.

A fuming cup of tea. Two waffles covered in maple syrup with bacon on the side. You were the one who initiated him to the delicious world of sweet and sour food, the best combination ever in your eyes. And he had to admit that you weren’t wrong, it was damn good.

He was half-asleep but before catching you back from work he had to buy another bouquet of flowers and your favourite Chinese food. The restaurant caught his eyes as he was walking in the street and he knew you would be hungry after your shift.

"Roger, where the hell are you ?" The drummer rolled his eyes at the dramatic tone of Brian, of course.

"Waiting for (Y/N), still need to be forgiven” The blond was outside the café, in an open phone-booth, a cigarette hanging between his cold fingers.

"But we have an interview today !” The curly hairs man cried and mumbled something away from the phone, probably to Chrissie.

"Well I don’t care, I have better thing to do today" Roger groaned and took a puff of his cigarette, exhaling deeply. "I’m sure you can manage one interview without the talented drummer" He smirked and he could guess that his band mate was rolling his eyes.

"They only are after Freddie anyway..." The guitarist complained and sighed. “We didn’t hear from you yesterday so we thought it went good with (Y/N)”

"Not really, no" Roger mumbled and threw his finished cigarette into the bin next to him. "I barely say sorry and she slammed the door in my face and I spent the night in her hallway like you advised me to do"

"Did you really ?” The drummer was a bit insulted by the surprise in Brian’s voice but he couldn’t denied that he wasn’t the one to do such effort for a girl. “That’s...great, I mean if you really like her you need to explain her the situation, I hope she’s gonna listen to your sorry ass" The guitarist teased gently.

"Yeah, yeah, I hope too. I do really really like her and...hum anyway, wish me luck, I’m going now" Roger rubbed awkwardly his chest, he wasn’t the most comfortable about confessing his feelings for a girl to his mates.

"Good luck Rog" The curly man said truthfully. "I’m gonna say you’re sick to Reid but you own me one Taylor"

"Thanks Bri" He smile lightly and hung up the phone, his hands sweating just thinking about seeing you in less than ten minutes.

**

He was ready. A paper bag filled with hot Chinese, lot of stuffs you liked, in his right hand. A cheap bouquet of daisies in the other hand — it was the only thing he found in the area —, the Tesco bag hanging around his arm with the cherry cheeky lub. The more he thought about it, the more he felt awkward and maybe you won’t find it funny at all.

"(Y/N) !" You slightly turned your head as you pushed the door of your building open and found Roger running to catch up with you. "Please let me explain myself, I know I did a mistake but I want to apologise" He followed you inside, his big eyes pleading you to listen.

You scoffed sarcastically at the word mistake and kept walking, feeling too tired to fight right now.

"Rog, I’m not interested into listening to you" You didn’t spare him a glance and entered the elevator, leaning against the wall in loud sigh.

"But I brought you chinese" He gave you a little, shy smile but you didn’t smile back and pressed the button of your floor. "I know I fucked up (Y/N) but you need to listen me" He stood in front of you, frankly sweating with nerves.

"I don’t own you anything, Roger" You kept your gaze on the wall, ignoring him. The memories of him and that girl was still vivid in your mind and if you looked at him, you were afraid you would just burst in tears. "I told you it was over so don’t lose anymore of your time on me" You swallowed harshly, the lump in your throat making it difficult.

"No, it’s not over" Roger shook his head and crushed his hand against the emergency button, making the lift stopped brutally. You gasped with surprise and stabilised yourself against the wall, sighing quietly.

"Roger, what are you doing ?" You hissed and tried to reach the button but he stayed firmly in front of it, not letting you approached it. "You’re being childish right now"

"I don’t care, if it’s the only way for you to listen to me than I’m fine with that" He shrugged. You knew he was quite stubborn so you simply nodded slowly and crossed your arms. The drummer took a deep breath and ran a nervous tongue on his lips. "I know what I did hurt you but— but technically we weren’t together, (Y/N), you can’t—"

“Great way to start your apologies, Roger” You spat angrily but you could feel tears filled your eyes again.

“Just listen, alright ?” He urged you, feeling you were hurt by his words but he really needed to get through the explanation. “We never had been official, what I did with this girl hurt you but you can’t me mad at me ! You smooched that Ricky guy right in front of me—”

“Jesus Rog ! She sucked your fucking dick !” You threw your arms in the air, angrily. Why men always tried to find stupid apologies when they acted like pig ? “It’s not the same, not at all ! And you fucking know that” You humphed annoyingly, brows deeply furrowed as Roger scratched awkwardly his chest.

“You’re right” He whispered so softly that you turned your head toward him, surprised to hear him agreeing with you. “I shouldn’t have done that. Even if we weren’t together, it was still deeply disrespectful toward you. And I’m very sorry about it” He sheepishly said, his eyes focused on his sparkly pink converses. He looked like a little kid who did a big mistake and needed to apologise after being grounded. “I do like you, very much. I think that why I reacted so stupidly with this girl. I know it’s not an excuse for my behaviour but I’m…still trying to process my feelings for you. Make me do stupid thing” He peered carefully at you, a shaky breath leaving his chapped lips. Almost shy.

You stayed silent. You didn’t know what to say. The last thing you expected was to hear Roger apologised so easily. Saying everything right. You were ready to scream and kicking him out of your place but not to find yourself stupidly quiet in front of the drummer.

“Please, forgive me” He grabbed your hands and tugged you against him, carefully not spilling the Chinese food from the bag. “I wanna be with you, for real this time. No more blurry lines. A couple who goes on date and all that shit”

You felt your throat tighten and your eyes pooled, making you quickly rubbed them. You couldn’t cry. But you could certainly forgive him now.

“You’re so romantic, Taylor” You chuckled weakly, linking your arms behind his neck, cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“I’m trying my best, sweetheart. I could ask some advice to Deaky though” He snorted and rubbed his large palm against your back, clumsily trying to not drop the flowers on the floor. It wasn’t the most comfortable hug but it had a strong meaning. Well, he hoped so. “Can you give me another chance ?“ You could feel his lips pressed a butterfly kiss on your hair, making you relaxed immediately.

You buried your face onto the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath, his familiar odour bringing a smile to your lips.

"I—” You coughed loudly as your breath get stuck in your throat, suddenly too tight to even speak.

You took a step back as well did Roger, surprise by you reaction. Your eyes fell immediately on the flowers that he was holding. The sight only made your eyes widen. Roger’s eyes quickly matched yours as he looked at you, worry wrote inside his pupils.

“(Y/N), you’re alright ?” You tried to take a breath but you couldn’t, you could only feel your throat getting tighter at each try. “Your face is red…why your face is red ? And swollen !” His voice went an octave higher than usual, clearly scared now.

His fingers quickly pressed on the lift button, praying it would open the door rapidly.

“The…” You took little breathes, trying to not suffocate as the drummer cursed loudly, your eyes turning red and puffy making him completely panicked. “Flowers” You spatted with difficulty, gesturing desperately toward the bouquet of flowers still his hand.

He glanced at the daisies completely lost and handed them to you but you shook your head with fear and suddenly he understood what was wrong.

“You’re allergic ?” You quickly nodded, fingers massaging your tight throat, big tears rolling down your cheeks as your lungs burnt deeper each second. “Holy fucking shit” The familiar ding! of the lift made the drummer jumped as the door finally opened.

He ran down the hallway and opened the window before throwing carelessly the flowers through the air. You followed him to the window, more than eager to got some fresh air, hand digging blindly inside your bag until you found your precious allergy pills.

“Water ?” You murmured to Roger, feeling already a tad better from the fresh air but the pills were deeply needed. And quickly.

“Hum…beer ?” The blond dropped most of his things on the floor, clumsily looking for the two beers he bought to go with your lunch, hands shaking under the sudden adrenaline from your state. “Here” He cursed quietly when few drops of the drink fell on his fingers, nerves making his all body shook.

You popped the pills on your tongue and took several sip of the cold drink under the worried gaze of Roger.

“Oh god, it feel good to breath” You sighed, letting your whole body relaxed against the wall.

“I can’t believe I almost killed you” The drummer whined as you chuckled softly, your pads checking if your face was still swollen. Thankfully, it weren’t anymore. “I told you I was bad at apologising” You both sat on the floor, right in the hallway, feeling absolutely exhausted.

“I’m fine” You replied with a little smile, gulping down the rest of the beer.

“Who the fuck is allergic to daisies ? It’s like the most common flowers ever !” Roger ran a hand on your flushed cheek, wiping away the rest of the tears.

“Usually I’m not that bad but the confined space and the contacts with the pollen kind of finish me” You shrugged with an amused smile and the blond shook his head, not believing you were actually joking about it.

“I’m sorry. For cheating on you. And for almost killing you. And being such a jerk”

“That’s a lot of thing to apologise for” You teased and took a look inside his brown paper bag, the delicious of Chinese food tickling your nose.

“Good thing that I got a lot of free time to make you forgive me then” He smiled cheekily and pressed a small kiss on your forehead, his lips resting several seconds on your skin before moving away.

“You can add wrong Chinese order to your list of apologies” You frowned at the sight of the udon prawns and sighed dramatically, putting back the box inside the bag.

“Shit. You don’t like seafood right ?” You shook your head and he bite his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. “Beef ?” He asked with a pout, his tongue poking out like a little kid.

“Chicken”

“For fuck’ sake” He groaned at his mistake and you giggled quietly. “Meh, it’s almost the same anyway” He added as he rolled his eyes.

“It’s not at all !” You playfully slapped his shoulder and he grabbed your fingers, pressing an another kiss right on your knuckles.

“This time, I definitively calling the cop !”

You both raised your head and bursted in laugh at the sight of the old lady who nicely called Roger a “homeless” and a “punk” the night before. The drummer winked at her and helped you get on your feet before walking to your flat, giggling like two hysterical teenagers.

**

“(Y/N), darling !” You smiled fondly as Freddie stood up from the old couch to hug you with enthusiasm. He pressed a loud kiss on each of your cheeks and reluctantly let Brian and John hugged you too. “Yes, hello, hello, now (Y/N) dear, please sit and tell us everything” The singer patted the spot next to him on the sofa and you chuckled softly at his excitement. Not sure what all of this was about but you were happy to see the boys.

It hadn’t been that long, a week not much more but with the events which happened previously you hadn’t been sure to see them again at all.

“Tell you about what Fred ?” You took off your jacket and threw it on the back of the couch. “Thanks, babe” You said gratefully as Roger handed you a fuming cup of tea, he winked at you and sat in one of the armchair, a little smile floating on his lips.

“I would love a cuppa too, babe” Brian commented with an ironic smile, his red special carefully resting in his arms, pads softly pinching the strings of the instruments. “Thanks for asking”

“Well, you know where the kettle is” The drummer replied casually, looking at his friends through his sunglasses, not intending to move from his spot.

“You’re a wanker” The curly haired man sighed, rolling his eyes but weren’t really surprise either.

“We all know that but that’s not very important” Freddie chimed in, signalling to his friends to shut up. “Darling, tell us how our dear Roger processed to make you forgive him”

“This idiot was moping around without you, it was painful to watch” Deaky chuckled, ignoring Roger’s glare.

“Please tell me you made him crawl and beg on his knees” The lead singer added, clapping his hands with an amused smile.

You let out a little giggle and exchanged a glance with your now official boyfriend, his mouth resting in a pout.

“Well, he did spend a certain amount of useful time on his knees...” You cheekily replied and Roger smiled proudly before winking at you.

“Oh did he now ?” Freddie grinned and shot a look to his friend, both of them sharing an amused gaze.

“That a way to apologise” John shrugged and Brian rolled his eyes.

“What about the present you were suppose to get her ?” The guitarist arched an eyebrow and the blond lost his cocky smile, scratching his chest uncomfortably.

“He offered me a bottle of lub” You laughed and took a sip of the warm drink, savouring the look of Roger with red cheeks.

“You’re kidding ?” Brian gasped and Freddie pinched his lips, clearly repressing a giggle.

“With a red bow on it” You added and the drummer shot you a look, not as amused as you by the situation. “And chinese but it was the wrong order”

“I think that the worst apology you could have done” John commented.

“Not too fast Deaky, the end is even better” You chuckled and gave a little kick in Roger’s leg with your foot. “Babe, tell them what happen with the flowers” You teased him and his whole face was red, giving a pleading look.

“Oh my god, what happened with the flowers ? I need to know more than everything else” Freddie cried and turned toward his bandmate, imitating by everyone in the room.

Roger shifted awkwardly in his seat, gaze looking at his shoes.

“I almost killed her” He muttered and you bursted in laugh. The face of each boy was priceless.

“What is wrong with you ?” Brian asked Roger, a confused look on his face.

“It was an accident !” He defended himself, crossing his arms like a little kid.

“Glad to hear that detail” Deaky sarcastically added.

The drummer rolled his eyes and sighed.

“She didn’t want to talk to me so I stopped the elevator when we were both inside so she didn’t have a choice” The blond explained under your amused gaze.

“Smart move” The lead singer commented, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, captivated by the whole story.

“But I didn’t know...she was allergic to the flowers I bought her” He admitted in a grunt, ears turning red as his bandmates snorted shamelessly next to him. “It’s not my fault okay ?” He cried, shouting daggers to Deaky, the loudest to laugh.

It only increased his laugh louder.

“I know that, babe. They’re just teasing you” You murmured and softly squeezed his forearm to calm him and his bad temper.

“I can’t believe it, of course it happened to you” Freddie let his head fell on the sofa, arms crossing around his stomach as his laugh slowly calmed down. “Roger, you’re a real piece of work”

“You really need to work on your apologies, man” Brian shook his head with a little smile.

“Honestly, I don’t know what is worse in this story” Deaky said when the room became quieter. “Roger’s disastrous apologies or the fact that (Y/N) actually forgave him”

It was now you who was turning bright red.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #ben hardy!roger x reader

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Sweltering

This is a request from a few months ago? Well technically two in one. Someone asked for Arthur and reader to go swimming and another asked for the same thing but with smut SOOOOOO

You swore that Hell itself had rolled through your little town overnight.

It was only 10 am, and even through the air conditioning of your house, the heat was sleeping through slowly. You sat at your kitchen table, munching on some cereal as you scanned the weather app on your phone. It was 86 degrees, and due to reach almost 100 by midafternoon. You sighed and put it down, knowing it would probably be best to stay in today.

“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”

You looked up at Arthur who sat across from you. “It’s gonna be hotter than Satan’s balls today,” you replied, “It’s just an expression.” You quickly added with a giggle, catching the look of confusion on his face.

He hummed in response, glancing out at the window. The sun shone through the blinds, streaming a golden light into the kitchen. “Good thing we ain’t out there then.” He chuckled slightly.

You nodded, finishing off your meal before standing up. Halfway across the kitchen, the steady hum of your air conditioner suddenly went short. You stopped in your tracks, listening to the now complete silence that surrounded you. ”Uh…”

“What?”

Your eyes first went for the microwave, searching for the bright green numbers on the screen. There were none. You turned and flipped the light switch experimentally, your gaze fixated on the bulb above. Nothing happened.

“Well,” you sighed. “There goes the power. Which means it’s gonna get hot in here real quick.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and looked at you curiously. “So what now?”

You sighed in thought, wondering what the extent of this power outage was. Town-wide? County-wide? How soon would it come back on? Either way, you weren’t determined to sit around and find out. You scratched your head, contemplating on driving around town to see if any stores would be open to keep cool in. Perhaps the movies, even?

Grabbing your phone, you began to check your social media. Statuses began to appear, complaining about the recent outage. Apparently it was county wide, meaning you were shit out of luck for doing anything local. You groaned lightly and scrolled through some more absentmindedly, hoping for some other news, until something caught your eye. It was just a simple ad, one that you’d scrolled past dozens of times. A photo of an island beach with clear skies and crystal clear water against perfect white sand.

You hadn’t been to the beach in forever.

“Arthur,” you looked up from your phone. “How do you feel about going to the beach?”

--

In an attempt to beat the heat that slowly crept into your house, it didn’t take long for you to get ready. Although you spent at least ten minutes trying to dig your bathing suit from storage, silently cursing yourself that you hadn’t done it much earlier this year. After putting a light colored sundress overtop it, you began to pack other necessities. Towels, sunscreen, sandwich ingredients and drinks, the works.

Since you didn’t have swim trunks for Arthur, you planned on stopping by one of the surf shops to grab a pair. Once you had a tote bag and a cooler packed and ready to go, the two of you headed outside. Stepping outside was like diving into a blanket of fire, the heat pressing into you as you hurried to your car.

The initial drive wasn’t long; at least an hour. The scenery gradually changed, the mountains giving way to summer rental houses and corner shops. You passed by many boats being towed, cars with surfboards or kayaks on top. The sidewalks were littered with people in shorts and tank tops, excited kids already in swimsuits carrying buckets and shovels.

It was obvious that it would be busy today, to which you didn’t mind. You found a parking spot fairly close to the shoreline, although your first goal was to get Arthur his own swimsuit. Stepping out, you could smell the ocean in the warm breeze. You led him to the nearest shop, which was fairly busy. You managed to locate swim trunks, pointing them out to him so he could pick out a pair.

You noted the look of confusion on his face. Of course, swimsuits from his time were much different. He eventually pulled out a pair of dark blue trunks, which you promptly paid for and headed back out.

The walk from the shop to the shore took only five minutes, but you were sweating already. From the edge, you observed the huge crowd that already took up the majority of the beach. It certainly would be hard to find a spot, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Off to the side, a building with bathrooms caught your attention. The changing area.

Wandering over, you pointed Arthur to one of the changing stalls. As you waited, you peeled off your sundress. You were eager to get into the water and cool off.

Hearing the door open, you turned to see Arthur stepping out. He seemed a little shy, looking left and right before emerging entirely. God, you could never get tired of looking at that man’s torso. As soon as his gaze landed on you, his eyes widened.

Of course, this was his first time seeing a bikini.

“Jesus, Y/N. You’re practically naked!” he exclaimed.

You merely shrugged. “These are pretty common, don’t get yourself worked up.”

He mumbled something that you didn’t hear, and you began walking out into the sand. Up close it was easier to find a spot, placing yourself a small distance between other beachgoers. You could feel Arthur’s eyes on you as you set up the towels and umbrella.

Once you finished, you eagerly shook your sandals off and turned to face him. It’s as if the awe were permanently plastered on his face as he was poorly hiding it. “Arthur?” you said, catching his attention. “Arthur, you’ve seen me naked. And look around, most women are dressed like me. This isn’t a big deal.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, tearing his gaze from you as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “M’ sorry, just ain’t used to…seein’ you like this in public. I’m from-”

“A different time, I know,” you huffed slightly. “Just ignore it, okay? We’re here to cool off and have fun,” you reached out for his hand. “Now, let’s get into the water!”

He looked at you again. “You go on n’ have fun. I’ll join ya in a bit…I’m hungry.” He added, noting the look you gave him.

“Alright, don’t take too long, cowboy.” you said, stretching up to kiss his cheek before stepping away and running to the water.

As you approached the water line, you stepped into an rolling creep of a wave. The cool water immediately felt so relaxing, washing up over your feet. Walking in closer, allowing yourself to become waist deep before diving in, engulfing yourself within an oncoming wave. The force pushed you back up to the surface. Taking a deep breath, you whipped your hair out of your face. The water felt so refreshing.

Continuing to swim around, diving into waves and floating atop them, you realized a little bit of time had passed and Arthur hadn’t joined you. You glanced out towards the sand, spotting him sitting underneath the umbrella. He didn’t seem to be eating like he said he would.

Frowning, you made your way back to the shallows and stepped back onto the sand. Dodging a pack of little kids, you approached him. He had his knees up, arms wrapped around them and looking uncomfortable. Upon seeing you, his expression changed. “Done already?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I’m wondering why you’re not joining me. And why you haven’t eaten yet.” You glanced toward the cooler that hadn’t changed position since your arrival.

“I…” he trailed off, shifting slightly in his spot. “I just…”

Your head tilted in curiosity, and you knelt down in front of him, feeling genuinely concerned. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

He broke his gaze from you, although you could have sworn his eyes went straight for your cleavage beforehand. His cheeks bloomed pink. “It’s…kinda embarrassin’…” he murmured so quietly you had to strain to hear.

“What?” you asked, leaning a little closer to him.

His lips pursed, still keeping his head turned. “I, uh…” he huffed. “I-I have a problem…”

You stared. “Problem?” you repeated, unsure what he meant.

“You know…” he continued, giving you a side glance. “My-”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, a little too loudly. His flinch calmed you down. “Sorry,” you dropped your voice, shuddering with a small giggle. “Really?”

“It’s that damn swimsuit,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t help it…”

You couldn’t help but to giggle more. “Is that all? Why are you embarrassed about that?”

He gave a sigh of annoyance. “Cause I can’t get rid of it, Y/N. I try to think o’ somethin’ else, but nothin’ helps. All I see is you…in that godforsaken outfit.”

Oh, this poor man. More like a hormonal teenager who thought with his dick. You kept that thought to yourself, however. You reached out to caress his cheek. “Guess I should have shown you beforehand, huh?”

“So I could fuck ya in the privacy of your home, yeah.” He muttered, though slight amusement in his voice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at this. So straightforward. “So…you wanna fuck me right now?” You asked.

He snorted slightly, staring at you directly now. “You have no idea, woman.”

His expression was so intense, those blue eyes reflecting the arousal within him. It wasn’t the ideal place to do so, not while being surrounded by families. You glanced back toward the changing building. A little bit of a distance away, but somewhat private. Maybe you could get away with it.

“Then let’s fix that,” you gestured for him to stand. “Come on.”

He looked at you, confused and surprised. “What...wait, I can’t-”

“Tuck it in your waistband, silly,” you instructed. “Then follow me back to the building.”

Arthur did as you told, carefully shifting himself without making his actions too obvious. He then stood up awkwardly, trying hard not to tug on the fabric as he stepped behind you. He kept close as you led the way, noting the amount of people entering and exiting the changing stalls.

They were mostly empty by the time you’d approached them, with a couple still closed. Quickly looking around, you pulled Arthur into one farthest away from anything else. Closing the door behind him, you turned to face the blushing cowboy.

“Ya sure we’re good in here?” He asked, appearing sheepish. “Ain’t want trouble from anyone.”

“We’ll be fine,” you said reassuringly, reaching for his swim trunks. Tucking on the drawstring, you loosened the waistband. The bulge underneath immediately released with it, and you tugged the fabric down to unveil it in its entirety. “Just be quiet.” You added, wrapping your hand around his length.

His breath hitched slightly at your touch. He opened his mouth to speak, yet was cut off when your mouth engulfed the head with ease. A low groan emanated from his stomach as he leaned against the wall.

You teased him first, sucking just a little and placing small kisses along his warm pink flesh. His hand tangled itself within your wet hair, prompting you to go further. You did so, slowly taking his length to the root, before pulling back and bobbing slowly.

He shuddered against the wall, quietly moaning your name. His touch gentle, yet firm as he pressed on the back of your head for more. You have in to the pressure, swallowing him a few more times at a tantalizingly slow pace. Though you weren’t planning to spend much time on the foreplay.

 Another moment passed by, sliding your lips back to the tip, popping them off before standing back up. The slight forlorn look on his face soon changed when you shimmied off the bottom of your bikini.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. The hunger in his eyes gleamed brightly as he practically lunged forward to you, his hands gripping your hips hard it was almost painful. “Turn around.” He commanded, the dominant growl in his throat sent a shiver down your spine.

You obeyed silently, turning to face the opposite wall and sticking your ass out teasingly. You heard him make a satisfied noise as his hands ran down your back. He squeezed the soft flesh of your butt as he stepped forward, running his erection along your folds and center. It didn’t take long for him to begin, easily sheathing himself in one smooth glide. You gasped softly as your inner walls stretched for him, and uttered a soft moan as he began to move within you.

He gripped your hips again, using the leverage to drive himself deeper. The sudden change brought up a yelp that you bit down. It certainly would be hard to keep quiet.

“You feel amazin’,” he growled lowly, leaning to kiss the back of your neck. “Fuck…”

Your only answer was a moan, your back arching to enhance your pleasure. He hit your G-spot perfectly, your knees buckling from the sheer ecstasy that washed over your body. He managed to hold you still, pounding away with such power.

His teeth ravaged your flesh, knowing he’d leave marks on your already mostly bare body. His nails dug into your skin, so tight with your hips. He was relentless in his pursuit of his pleasure, wanting nothing more to release the energy into you. The way his voice rumbled was like music to your ears.

He whispered profanities to you, sinful utterances which ignited your core even more. A hand brushed against your belly before his fingers found your clit, expertly dancing against your sensitive nerves. Throwing your head back, forcing down another yelp that nearly left your lips. Arthur was quick, covering your mouth with his other hand. Though muffled, you were able to express your pleasure.

“That’s it, darlin’.” He groaned to you. He eagerly buried himself to the hilt over and over, feverishly toying with you without a pause. Somehow it seemed as if he was going even faster, the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass overtook your muffled mewls.

Your peak was arriving quickly, your mind too addled to staunch it. The climb was short; the explosive ache that cascaded down your core. You sang out loud, though still stifled by Arthur.

“That’s m’girl.” he huffed, pausing to kiss the back of your neck. The fresh moment of intimacy swayed you, your knees trembling, threatening to buckle as your body came down from your high. He didn’t give you any time to recover, as he thrust deep within once again. His hand moved from your soaked pussy to run his hand down your back a second time before gripping your waist.

“Arthur!” you cried out against his fingers, the muscles in your legs almost rendered to jelly. It was amazing how you still stood, though part of it had to be from him. Pinned between the wall and his strong grip, letting him have his way in this miniscule changing booth.

“I-I’m close.” he grunted, shoving himself even harder within you. Tears formed in your eyes as he hit a sensitive spot, though the pain felt wonderful. Your hands grasped at the smooth wall, unable to hold onto anything. With a few more heavy pounds, he released your mouth to grip your waist hard, so hard that you whined. Growling your name, his hips pressed hard with yours, he held you still as his spend emptied deep within you.

The silence surrounded the two of you for a long moment, until Arthur eased his grip. He pulled away from you slowly, a trail of his seed dripping down your leg instantly. He took a deep, shuddering breath and straightened up. You turned to face him, pulling the swimsuit bottoms up, the warmth gathering in the damp fabric.

“Feel better?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Christ, that’ll keep me good for a while.” He pushed his slightly sweaty hair out of his face and fixed his swim trunks.

“Good,” you responded. “Now will you join me in the water?”

He gave a short chuckle. “’Course.”

You exited the booth first, carefully peering around to make sure no one was within vicinity. You hoped no other beachgoers heard what was going on, but it seemed safe enough. Arthur quickly joined you, heading back to your spot on the beach as if nothing happened. Despite the ache that lingered between your legs, you were able to hit the waves once again, pulling Arthur in with you.

#Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan x reader smut #Arthur Morgan #I'm working on other requests too I promise

[yourdeepestfathoms]

if not by blood, then siblings by bloodshed (part three)

pour one out for all the German Shepherd lovers

TW: Blood and gore, violence, animal violence, animal death, death, mentions of past abuse, vomiting

——————

Run For Your Life

“Joey, I’m tired....”

It’s been a day since the experience in the town- a day worth of no rest and even more walking, not even stopping to sleep at night, and only then was Joan realizing how unwell her young companion looked.

Kitty’s face was ashen and her dull eyes were half-lidded. Exhaustion is etched all over her expression. She clung tightly to Joan’s hand as they walked. Who knows how much longer she would be able to go on before she keels over.

“I don’t know how much farther we have...” Joan said, “Would you like it if I carried you? Maybe that would help?”

Kitty nodded and Joan carefully picked her up. Her knees wobbled when she stood back up; it’s not that Kitty was heavy, quite the opposite, actually, but her legs were so sore that the extra weight put even more of a strain on her, weakening them. Still, she pushed forward, not letting her own fatigue overcome her.

When buildings finally came into view around the bend, it was a huge relief. The sky had been growing darker and the only thing that could make the growing uneasy even worse was if they had ominous shadows cast over their faces.

A ruined village stands before them. Half-crumpled buildings stood around in disarray, long destroyed by wind and rain and other weather effects. A few were still intact, like the one Joan chose to take refuge in. The bed inside was dusty, but held strong, so Joan gently sets Kitty down.

“Mmmmm...” The little girl moaned softly. Joan gently strokes back her sweaty bangs.

“Shh,” She murmured, “You’re in a bed, Kit. Try to sleep, okay? I’m going to go find some food and water.”

Kitty nodded and shut her eyes again. Mercy hops down from Joan’s head to watch over her as Joan went back outside.

As much as she didn’t want to, Joan knew she would have to hunt again. Kitty must have been dehydrated and hungry- the best thing for her right now was food and water, and Joan had to get that for her.

However, her task was cut off by a horrible, guttural noise from nearby.

Joan new exactly what it was.

There wasn't a human being alive on the planet who didn’t know what that sound was.

Joan paused, scanning the buildings with uncertainty and- she had to admit- a certain morbid fascination. She’d been standing there listening, almost mesmerized, for a good three minutes now. It just didn't stop.

But listening in on it- on the grunting heaves and grotesque plops of half-liquid matter hitting mud that followed- felt oddly invasive, like she was watching two people have sex. Feeling a twinge of discomfort, Joan moved away from her spot, stepping quietly as she made her way over to dingy mound of bricks that used to be someone’s house. What she found almost sent her sprinting back to the building where Kitty was, scooping her up, and hightailing it out of those ruins.

“Oh god...”

A small chest sat upturned in a mess of blood splatters and debris in the middle of the house, although it was what was sticking out of it that made Joan’s gut truly twist in disgust. A pair of naked legs, wizened and bruised, protruded stiffly from the broken lid. There was no point in leaning down to check on the state of the body- only a blind man could possibly mistake it for being anything but dead.

Joan stood back, pressing the rough fabric of her collar to her lips. It wasn't the first dead body she had seen since her life was flipped upside down, but it wasn't any more pleasant than the bloodied corpses she’d been lying in the day before. At least those had been in daylight, and an obvious victim of the plague that was apparently now spreading through the country. This one looked more like a murder victim. Between the grisly discovery and the retching noises from somewhere beyond, Joan almost felt as though she'd stepped straight into a crime scene.

She swallowed heavily and turned back towards the sounds.

A body meant that some monster must have been here, but those retching noises were too human to belong to one of those “Hellhounds”. That meant that whatever was in here was a person, and if they'd been here for whatever had gone down in this village, maybe they were hurt. She had to see if they were alright.

Hesitantly, Joan followed the sounds with her hand on the grip of her axe.

A few stray beams of waning sunlight glowed over the hunched form in front of her- whoever it was, they had been crouching behind a broken wall in a stew of mud, perhaps having been in too much of a hurry to empty their stomach to find a cleaner spot. Or be concerned about anything, for that matter. Flabby, pale skin flashed in the light from where they peeked out from under their owner’s shirt, and above that lay a twitching expanse of blue and white. Even in the dimness, Joan could see how the figure was quaking, convulsions rippling through its whole body as it continued to cough into the mud.

Joan’s first impulse was to recoil- as if the less-than-appealing rear view she'd just been treated to hadn't been enough, the thoughts from her first few minutes in the town had come flooding back into her mind. Not even a crazy man could look at ruined, empty streets and buildings that had been full of people a short five years before and not wonder what had happened.

The figure shifted, the unpleasant sounds trailing off into a series of wet coughs as it lifted its head and turned to squint into the light, a mixture of nausea and trepidation sculpted onto the pale, shaven features. Then the coughing became a groan. Perhaps of relief, that the thing poking its head in from around the corner was another human being and not a creature from the plague, or perhaps of disgust and revulsion at being discovered in the middle of such a humiliating activity and at the intrusive light piercing the cramped darkness.

It was a man.

A young, somewhat corpulent man, dressed in brown pants and a green shirt, with tufts of brown hair (now plastered flat against his forehead in perspiration) swept out of his chocolate eyes. Probably somewhere in his twenties, though much older than Joan.

A man.

Not a monster.

Joan relaxed, the sour, nervous prickle that had started to tweak her insides subsiding into relief.

Relief that further faded into discomfort as the pale face turned away from her in favor of heaving into the mud again. There was a liquidy gurgle accompanying it this time, and Joan almost considered muttering a hasty apology and turning to leave him be when the figure finally spoke, in a breathless and strained voice that ran out of steam towards the end, leaving the final word a gasp of pitiful breath.

“I-it wasn’t me... I didn’t do it!”

Grasping the wall, Joan leaned back in, feeling her brows rise to a peak. As disgusting as the display before her was, she could feel very little but sympathy for this poor man.

“Do what?” She asked, although even as she spoke, her thoughts were drifting to the body in the other broken down house.

“I... I didn’t do anything. I swear,” Pleaded the stranger, still leaning over in the mud as though worried there might be more coming up. "She was like this when I got here..."

He choked again, spitting something into the mud with a grimace.

It was hardly the ideal time for an introduction, but Joan found herself giving one anyway. Mostly because she had no idea what to say on the subject of what this guy here had or hadn't done.

“My, uh, my name's Joan,” She offered amiably, and was rewarded with a horrible, retching belch in return that made her resolve falter somewhat. She finished with an unsure tone. "...Joan Meutas."

“Uhm... George,” Croaked the stranger weakly.

Joan nodded slowly.

“George...” She said softly as the poor man's vomiting resumed, keeping her tone quiet. She was pretty sure the last thing anybody wanted while they were sick was someone barging in and loudly demanding answers. "Who's that dead guy in the chest?"

“I didn’t do it!” George moaned miserably. “I swear, I didn’t kill anybody!”

That hadn't been what Joan asked, but she thought better of repeating herself and just stood there by the broken wall, shifting slightly and listening to the ongoing symphony of the man’s guts emptying themselves.

“Well...” She said, thinking of the body in the other room, mere yards from where George had thrown himself down to be sick. When she had come around the corner, this man had been completely vulnerable. If it had been a dog creeping behind him instead of Joan, George would have been caught with his pants down. Literally. "I guess this place isn't too safe... What happened here, anyway?"

“Uh... I don’t know. I’m not even from this country. Passing through for business for my sister...” George explained, “That body...scared the hell out of me. Or my lunch.”

Joan hummed sympathetically, which she almost found weird given the large and very obvious age gap between them.

George has finally stopped heaving. He leaned back, wiped his mouth, grimaced at the mess he had made, then stood up.

“Sorry,” He said. “That was...” He doesn’t finish that statement, instead turning it into a light joke, “If my sister caught me like this she’d be pulling on my hair.”

Joan cracked a slight smile. She notices that George is scanning her over, probably wondering why she was out there all alone, but before he could actually ask, a deep rumbling shook the whole ground. Joan staggered a little, placing one hand on the broken wall for balance.

“Oh no...” George muttered. Joan looks over at him worriedly. The rumbling sounds get louder.

“What?”

“They’re here.”

With horrifying timing, the ground several meters away broke open and an infestation of black came out in dark waves.

Joan screams. George grabs her arm and tries to pull her to a lopsided house, but she resists.

“My friend!” She cried, “I have to get my friend!”

“What?!”

Joan doesn’t bother answering him- she beelines for the house where Kitty is, noticing several cracks forming in the dirt as she did so. George follows her and they burst into the building, scrambling to slam the door shut behind them.

“Are you crazy?!” George yelled. “You could have gotten us both killed!”

“You didn’t have to follow me!” Joan said.

“What kind of adult would I be if I let you run around during an infestation?” George snaps back.

“Joey?”

Joan and George both turned around sharply. Kitty is sitting up on the bed, holding Mercy to her chest and looking very curious.

“What’s going on? What are those noises? Who’s that?” She asked, her age making her unaware of the danger around her.

“This is George,” Joan introduced quickly. “George, this is Kitty. The cat’s Mercy.”

“Hello. WE NEED TO GO.” George said. “Grab your friend- we can climb up onto the roof from this hole.”

Joan obeys, quickly scooping Kitty up into her arms as George manages to clamber up onto the roof from a hole in the ceiling. He grabs Kitty when Joan passes her up, then helps hoist the teenager up. There, they all set their eyes upon the sea of black surrounding them.

There had to be hundreds of them. They all had the same jet black, patchy fur, so black they nearly melted into the darkness of night. Their eyes, however, were as white as a blind man’s- glazed and foggy, but something told Joan they didn’t need to see to track a person down.

“Oh god,” George muttered.

“That’s a lot of rats!” Kitty said helpfully.

“What do we do?” Joan asked.

“Nothing,” George said, sitting down heavily.

“What?” Joan’s eyes widened. “We can’t just sit here!”

“We have to. They don’t like light, but we have no fire. If we had meat we could distract them long enough to run, but we don’t have that either.” George explained, “There’s no choice but to wait until morning.”

Joan’s heart sank. She looked around desperately, praying to find something to help them, but there was nothing.

“Where did they come from?” She eventually asked, sitting down. Kitty scuttles into her arms and she holds her close to her chest.

“Don’t know,” George answered honestly. “They just...appeared one day. The church thinks it’s a warning from God. Doesn’t sound too unlikely. What kind of normal rats could come out of the ground like that?”

Joan nodded slowly. She stared fearfully down at the rats scuttling around on the ground, squeaking and hissing. They smelled of bloody mud and rot.

“So,” George spoke up again, trying to make idle conversation to lighten the tense mood, “What are two kids walking about all alone for?”

“We’re trying to find Catherine of Aragon.” Joan answered him, but her voice was slightly distant. An idea has sparked in her mind.

George whistled. “You’ve got awhile to go, kid. You still have to cross the canal to get to the mainland.” He pauses. The rats shriek wildly below. “Tell you what: Once morning comes, you both can come with me to the nearby port. The ship there will take you to my sister’s kingdom in France. She can help you out further.”

Joan nods slowly. She cups the back of Kitty’s head, pressing her face into her neck, then sits back further, trying to get comfortable on that old, rickety roof.

“Where is this port?” She asked.

“A few more miles north,” George nods in the direction of a nearby path. “We’ll follow that road and you’ll see a tower by the bay. The ship should be there.”

Joan nodded once more, thanked George for his generosity, then kicked him off of the building.

Saying the rats surrounded him was an understatement- their movements weren’t thought out, there was no moment of inspection or a hesitation to sniff; it was just a feral instinct within, a primal need to feed and, all at once, they snapped around, no matter how far or how close, and swarmed George.

The rats literally pile on top of each other, becoming one huge writhing black mass as they push and shove to get to the man. And, when they did, they began biting and gnawing and chewing the flesh off of his body while he was still screaming.

To his credit, George does put up a fight. He gets to his knees, swatting and slapping all over as if he were on fire, but his efforts were in vain. There were much to many rats and, once they tunneled into his stomach, tore his eyes out and stuck their snouts into the sockets, clawed open his throat, dug through his organs, pulled him to pieces, he was no match for their talons and teeth.

Joan watched this all, still reeling from her action, but she knew it had to be done. In the end, all that mattered in the world was her and Kitty; everybody else were mere lambs to the slaughter- a body waiting to be sacrificed, whether they wanted to die or not.

Joan leapt off of the building and ran as fast as she could. Instantly, pain ignited in her legs, and she swore she could hear her muscles singing in agony. Or, perhaps, it was just the ringing in her ears or the delusions of an exhausted young girl.

She was literally running for her life, she realized. This wasn’t like the escape from London- somehow, there was a more underlying terror that came with running away from man-eating rats than man himself. Due to this, Joan felt as if she had wings. Despite her legs pulsing in an intense pain that felt as though all her tendons were being pulled apart, she thought she was faster than usual.

It was probably the adrenaline.

In her arms, Kitty and Mercy clung desperately to her shirt, both of their nails digging in. The extra weight didn’t seem to bother her- the adrenaline rush gave her strength she didn’t know she had. If she weren’t worried about being eaten alive by rodents, then she might have marveled at her ability to run while carrying a seven-year-old and a hairless cat.

Unfortunately, fight or flight doesn’t last forever, and the full extent of her overexertion hit her like a steel mace to her knees. Suddenly, the ground is rushing up to meet her, Kitty is crying out, Mercy makes a startled warble, and there’s dirt in her mouth.

Joan lays dazed on the road like a broken doll, blinking blearily up at the twinkling stars above. Their glow bleeds together into a big silver smear that paints the night sky. In a weird sort of way, it’s almost beautiful.

“Joey!”

Kitty is shaking her back and forth. There’s fear in her voice.

“Joey, come on! Get up! Th-they’re coming!”

Joan groans softly. Her awareness wavers and she momentarily dips into complete darkness. Sleep sounded so nice right now...

“JOAN!!!”

It isn’t Kitty’s shriek that makes Joan snap up, rather the feral growl coming from the woods around them.

Joan sits up, her eyes bulging as she stares at the golden orbs peering out from the underbrush. First a paw emerges, then the leg, and finally the Hellhound slinks out into the open.

It looks like a German Shepherd, except for the twin pieces of gold shoved in its skull. It walks smoothly on its razor claws, stepping onto the path only a few yards away from Joan and Kitty. Nostrils flaring, it sniffs the air. Its tail lashes.

Mercy leaps down in front of the girls. He arches his spine, hissing lowly. If he had fur it would be standing on end.

The Hellhound snarls. Bunching it’s hind legs, it lunges forward. Mercy lunges, too, and narrowly misses the beast’s foaming jaws. He slides when he lands, hisses, then rakes his claws across the dog’s soft nose when it attempts to bite him. Blood spurts from the deep wound and the Hellhound whines like a puppy would, but Mercy has no pity for the thing. He brings his claws to the nose again and again until chunks come off and a nasty hole is left on the snout.

The Hellhound yowls, tottering backwards, then swipes its front legs at Mercy. One paw catches the cat and pins him to the ground. The black claws are so close to his throat.

Joan didn’t think another adrenaline rush was possible with her so exhausted, but she quickly found herself up on her feet and and cleaving her axe down onto the Hellhound’s neck.

The beast howls. It releases Mercy and whips around to attack Joan, only to get the head of an axe slamming directly into its eyes. The blade cuts straight through the eyeballs, gushing fluids out all over its snout, and gets lodged in its skull. When pulling does nothing to help, Joan kicks the thing in the neck and her axe jars free. She then promptly swung again and doesn’t stop swinging until the Hellhound’s head came off. Only then does she lower the axe and let herself breathe.

Mercy blinks up at her. He whacked the Hellhound’s snout one final time, then jumped onto Joan’s shoulder. They return to Kitty, who is still frozen in her spot.

“You killed the puppy...” She whispered.

Joan makes a disgruntled face. She gently rubs the top of Kitty’s head, hoping to cheer her up with the affection.

“It was a bad puppy,” Joan said. “Come on, up you go. There’s just a little further.”

Kitty nodded silently, casting a saddened look at the dead dog before taking Joan’s hand and letting her lead her down the path again.

Hand-in-hand, they walk for two and a half miles before the smell of the sea hits them. When the ocean eventually came into view, Kitty jets forward, startling Joan out of her half-daze (it’s sad that she’s learned how to nap while walking in just a span of a few days).

“Joey! Joey, look! The sea!”

Joan attempts to run after her, but her legs ache in protest, so she just walks as fast as she can without it being excruciating. She smiled when she found the little girl crouched on the rocks along the shore, feeling the chilly water and giggling when the waves spray her with a sprinkle of salty droplets.

“Have you ever seen the ocean before?” Joan asked.

“Uh-uh,” Kitty shook her head. “It’s so much prettier than the pictures!”

“Isn’t it?” Joan chuckles.

She leaves Mercy with Kitty, despite his initial resistance of meows, to let her play and found the tower on her own. It wasn’t like the towers back at London (don’t think about London don’t think about how you’ll never be able to go home again), but it was intact and would shelter them until the ship arrived.

Oh, right. The ship wasn’t even there yet.

Joan clenched her jaw so hard it hurt, but then breathed out the harsh breath. Getting angry wasn’t going to make the boat magically appear; they would just have to wait until it showed up.

(If it even showed up.)

“Kitty,” She called and Kitty came over with Mercy trotting along behind her. “This is where we’re going to be staying for now.”

“Okay,” Kitty nodded. “Do we stay here until mummy shows up?”

There it was. That damn question. Joan didn’t blame Kitty for asking it, but it was still painful to have to hear.

“Umm... Yes.” Joan said, “A boat will come and we’re going to get on it when it does and go to France.”

Kitty huffs and stamped her foot. She seemed to be getting annoyed with how Joan kept putting off the reunion with her mother.

“Why is she there?” She whined, “I want to see mummy now!”

Joan grits her teeth. After sacrificing an innocent man, watching said man get eaten alive by rats, running for her life, and decapitating a dog, she really wasn’t in the mood to hear complaining.

“You’re going to have to wait.” She said, tone stern.

“I don’t wanna wait!” Kitty yelled, “I want mummy NOW!!”

“Shut up, you little devil!” Joan hissed.

“No!!” Kitty shrieked even louder, “You’re mean! I hate you!” She turned and ran into the tower.

Joan pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily. Kitty’s “insult” was but a childish outburst, but her companion saying she hated her, despite it obviously not being true, stung more than she would like to admit.

Shaking her head and looking down at Mercy, she says, “Kids.”

————

Space was probably the best thing for Kitty right now, so Joan explored the tower by herself. Most of the rooms were dusty and old, but some of the furniture was still intact and usable. She ends up claiming a small stone room with a bed, desk, and musty bookshelf full of even mustier books to sleep in and laid there after lighting torches around the spire.

Finally in a relatively-safe place, Joan pulls off her boots, took off her tunic (it reeked and still had chunks of vomit dried on it), and laid down. Getting off her feet was a huge relief and she actually found herself sighing out loud. The pain ebbs and she rests...

A dip in the old mattress caused Joan to jolt up with a gasp. She pawed around for her axe or bow, but a tiny voice halts her.

“You’re really jumpy, Joey.”

Joan froze, then breathed out a soft sigh of relief. It was just Kitty.

“Were you hit?”

The question came out of nowhere. Added with how nonchalant Kitty’s tone was when she said it, it left Joan sputtering in confusion.

Was the torchlight bright enough to reveal the silver and red scars lacing her back? And, if so, how could have Kitty seen them with her back facing away from her?

“I-I-...” She can’t muster up the words to explain or deny or say Kitty was being weird and needed to go to bed.

“Let me introduce you to a hand that won’t hurt you.”

And then Kitty hugged her so gently.

#that last line kitty says is one of my favorite things ever #would a seven year old say it? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ fuck if I know #but I still love it #siblings by bloodshed #katherine howard #joan on the keys #tiny kat au #tiny joan au #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: violence #tw: animal violence #tw: animal harm #tw: animal death #tw: abuse #tw: death #tw: vomit

[wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever]

Because you say, “I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have no need of anything,” and you do not know that you are wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked, I advise you to buy from Me gold refined by fire so that you may become rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness will not be revealed; and eye salve to apply to your eyes so that you may see. Those whom I love, I rebuke and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me. The one who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat with My Father on His throne. The one who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’”

#revelations 3:17-22 #the way the truth and the life #we are poor blind and naked let him dress you in white