#► you should send me more of these (answered ask)

[salthusiast]

Who You Truly Are - Part 2

Viltrumite Mark x Female Reader

Summary: When the Invincible variants arrived on Earth, you never expected to get involved. It’s not like you knew Invincible personally. What you didn’t know was that you’d ended up housing one of these variants, and you didn’t know for weeks. Basically Viltrumite Mark pretends to be the Mark you know.

Word Count: 5k

Previous Part: 1

Warnings: Alludes to comic spoilers once if you SQUINT, and I mean SQUINT. It's literally "if you know you know" I tried to keep this as open to both show enjoyers and comic enjoyers as possible.

OH MY GOD THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT ON THE FIRST PART. I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT. I tried to take any advice given to me. Thank you!!!

“I am not working with you again. I don’t care that there is another version of me out there causing issues.” Mark gestures wildly before rubbing his temples.

“You have all the superheroes you could ever need on call. You could defeat half of them without me. You don’t need me right now. I have to be there for Eve. If this other version of me is really that big of an issue, then just send every other superhero you have.” Mark walks past Cecil, leaving him alone in Eve’s room. 

“Mark, please try to be reasonable.” Cecil follows him soon after. 

Mark scoffs, “If I see him, I will take action.” He stops in his tracks. “This does not mean I’m working for you. I will take action if people are getting hurt. Do not expect me to be at your beck and call.” He turns, glaring at Cecil.

Cecil sighs, “If that’s the most you’ll do…”

“It is.” Mark cuts in sharply. “In case you have forgotten, I refuse to work with you. Now, I have other things to attend to.”

“At least let us know if you see him out in public, please, Mark. If not for me, then for the betterment of humanity.” Cecil tries.

“Oh yes, I’ll just shoot you a text! ‘Hey, Cecil, I know we hate each other, but there’s another version of me destroying the world right now.’” Mark exclaims sarcastically, holding his hands up as if questioning whether Cecil is serious. Cecil looks at him unimpressed.

“I don’t hate you, kid.” Cecil responds.

“Yeah, okay, but why even ask? I’m sure you’ll know if there’s an attack or something before I do. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you spy on me even when I’m not out saving people.” Mark looks at Cecil suspiciously.

Cecil sighs; he looks like he’s given up. “Just keep an eye out, kid. Please.”

“I will let you know if another version of me decides to attack me. Otherwise, call somebody else.” Mark reiterates, beginning to walk past Cecil.

“Wait,” Mark stops in his tracks. “You know we’re always here to talk, right?” Cecil looks at Mark, who returns a conflicted look. 

“I don’t really want to talk to you,” He shakes his head, continuing his path, “but thanks.” Mark continues as he exits the Pentagon.

--------------------------

“Dude, where'd you get this coffee?” You ask, examining the foreign packing of the coffee beans Mark returned with. You take a sip from his cup, and he gives you a weird look.

“Brazil.” He answers.

You roll your eyes. “Very funny. No, seriously, you have to tell me. I gotta know your sources.” 

He looks at you, “Can’t expose all my secrets.” He looks at you, amused.

“Okay fineeee, but you gotta promise to get me some more if we run out.” You relent, finishing his coffee.

“...That was my cup.” He sounds a little despondent.

“Sorry, we can make another batch.”  You smile guiltily. He sighs, but goes to make more. You check the bag of groceries he brought. “Woah, this all looks authentic.” You examine the dry pasta that he bought. 

“Did you travel to Italy too?” You joke, smiling at him.

“Yes.” He responds seriously. You laugh in response and stand up to wash the cup you stole from Mark.

“Oooh, next time you go, you should bring back pizza or something!” You grin at him, finding it funny how he seems so solemn with his responses.

“Hm, perhaps.” He says as he grabs two mugs. 

“Oh, you don’t have to get a mug for me.” You say as he looks up at you, unimpressed.

“Really? So you won’t drink from my cup if I only make one for myself?” Mark narrows his eyes suspiciously.

You shake your head, “No, I won’t, Scout’s honor.” You place a hand on your chest. 

Mark sighs before putting away the second mug. He pours himself a cup and takes a sip. He looks at you, then at his cup. “We should put away the groceries.” 

You nod, “Of course.” You go to help him put the groceries away. 

Mark stops in his tracks, “Are you serious?”

You look at him, then back at the cup you stole again. “Sorry, I wasn’t going to, but you commented on it, so I had to.” You take a slow sip, making it as loud as possible.

“You said ‘Scout’s honor.’ Do you have no honor?” He shakes his head in disappointment.

You snap your fingers, “That’s the thing! I was never a scout.” You put the cup down. “Don’t worry, I didn’t finish it this time.” You gesture vaguely to the cup. 

He walks up to you, frowning. He looks at the cup, “You contaminated it.” 

You laugh in surprise, “Oh, come on, you’ve drunk from my cups before. Think of this as payment for providing you with temporary housing.”

Mark furrows his eyebrows, “I have?” He hesitantly picks up the cup before drinking from it.

“Uh yeah? Wait, I think? Great, now you got me questioning it.” You sigh, heading over to the couch to turn on the TV. “Let’s see what’s on…”

The camera focuses on a massive floating figure. He seems to be towering over Invincible. They appear to be engaging in some sort of fight. The headline proves that your guess is correct.

“Hey, that looks like what the Chicago Destroyer Invincibile was wearing.” You comment offhandedly. Mark, on the other hand, coughs violently before walking over to watch with you.

“‘Chicago Destroyer Invincible?’” Mark quotes you incredulously.

“What? He destroyed Chicago, it’s either that or that one Invincible wearing white. That doesn’t really roll off the tongue— ooh, that was a nice punch.” 

Mark still seems hung up on the “Chicago Destroyer” part. “From planet conqueror to Chicago Destroyer.” He scoffs, muttering the words low enough that you don’t hear. 

“It looks like Invincible’s getting his ass handed to him though… Ouch, that looks like that’d hurt.” You comment, watching as the unknown attacker slams Invincible into the ground.

“Yeah…” Mark doesn’t sound very upset, “He’ll probably die here. That guy looks powerful.” You glare at Mark. 

“You’re supposed to root for the good guy, Mark. Invincible is on our side.” You shake your head disapprovingly, placing a hand on your chest, feeling offended for Invincible. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m just saying. I mean, look at him. Didn’t you also just say he’s getting his ‘ass handed to him?’” You both look at Invincible getting slammed on the ground and punched into the sky. You grimace as the fight goes out of frame… anddd probably out of that city. 

“Okay, fine, but have some faith. Invincible is the one defending us. I mean, what’s gonna happen if this guy wins? Take over the Earth?”

 

“Yeah, probably,” Mark responds unfazed. 

You chuckle at his deadpan response. “Damn, if we were conquered, what would happen to us? I can’t imagine we’re useful to people who can fly and have super strength like that. Maybe we'd be like slaves? I’d be such an awful slave.” Marks looks at you like you’re crazy.

”You wouldn’t be a slave.” Mark responds. 

“Aww, thanks, I don’t think you’d be a slave either.” You respond affectionately. 

“What? No, of course I wouldn’t— That’s not the point.” Mark shakes his head, looking back toward the TV. 

You laugh at his response, placing your hand onto him, “Didn’t realize you feel so strongly about your ability to not be enslaved.” He stares at your hand, but he doesn’t flinch. He moves slightly away from your touch.

“Very funny.” He replies unamused. “He could, though. Enslave humanity.”

“Invincible? Nah, doubt it.” You play dumb, also knowing fully well that if he wanted, he probably could. Mark gives you a disappointed stare. “Fine, fine. If he truly wanted to, he could. I felt like that was pretty obvious. Not sure why you’re so serious about this.” You mumble. 

“You could die out there,” Mark states, wow, okay. Somebody is feeling optimistic.

“Of course, I could die out there, Mark. Unless you’re secretly Invincible, then there’s nothing we can do if somebody like that invaded us.” You gesture to the TV, feeling yourself get frustrated by his negative outlook.

“Last I checked, Invincible is getting beaten up out there, so like it or not, we can’t change anything.” He gives you a conflicted look. “I’m going to go do some work. I’ll be at my desk.” You stand up, he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

--------------------------

“Conquest was defeated.” Mark later walks into your room. 

“Who?” You ask, still a little on edge. Normally, you wouldn’t care about Mark's comments here and there, but Mark had been making comments like this ever since he started staying with you. It was just so unlike him.

He pauses for a moment, and you turn your chair to him. “That guy who was beating up Invincible. He’s apparently called ‘Conquest,’” Mark elaborates. You nod in understanding.

You look over, and Mark is standing over at the door like a lost puppy. A tall and serious lost puppy. The image is so jarring you almost burst out laughing. You sigh, “I’m sorry.” 

He blinks, “You apologize a lot.” 

You remain silent, “Sorry..?” He looks vaguely amused.

You decide to change the subject, “I tried texting Eve. She is okay. William is fine, too.” Mark hums. 

“Did you tell them I was here?” Mark asks. He makes his tone seem casual, but there is something hidden underneath the surface.

“Uhh, not yet, I literally just heard back from her… I’ll text them right now—“ You jolt as he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Mark, what—“

“Don’t tell her anything. For a matter of fact, don’t tell William either.” He replies with a sense of urgency in his tone.

You frown, “Did you guys all argue or something? Even if they’re mad at you, I still think they’d want to know you’re safe.” You remove your hand from his grip, barely registering the loss of warmth in your confusion.

“Look… just please don’t tell them. They have enough on their plates as it is. They don’t need to find out my house is destroyed.” Mark tries, looking at you with eyes reflecting some emotion.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Of course…” You reply softly. “Mark, you have to talk to them eventually.”

He nods, “I will, but not today. Just… trust me on this.” He looks down at your hand. He looks up, “Don’t tell them.”

You look at his eyes, pleading. This is probably the most genuine emotion he’s shown (other than joy at destroying you in that game of Uno, but you don’t count that). 

You sigh, “Fine…” The conflict in his eyes is suddenly gone; it’s back to that blank look. You both sit in silence, before he eventually stands up. You frown, “Where are you going?” You ask, watching as he heads towards the front door to leave. 

“Out.” He turns to leave before pausing. “Do you… need anything while I’m gone?” He seems unsure whether he should ask the question. 

You smile, “Oh yeah, just that Italian pizza I was asking for earlier. With your skills in finding hidden gems, I can’t imagine it’s too difficult.” You joke, leaning against your room’s doorway. He gives you a deadpan look before nodding and closing the door behind him.

You frown, “He could’ve at least said yes or no.” You close the door to your room behind you. You go back to work for the next few hours.

Eventually, you take a peek out of your room. Huh, still not here. Whatever he decided to do must be taking up quite a bit of time.

You are scrolling on your computer when you see a headline. It reads “NEW CAMERA SHY SUPER VILLAIN FIGHTS WITH GUARDIANS, ALL GUARDIANS SEVERELY INJURED.” 

Normally, you wouldn’t spare a second glance, but it’s unusual that all the guardians get attacked. You open the article. The giant photo showing this new “super villain” is blurry. There are no defining features. All you can see is that they are wearing dark colors and are floating over the injured Guardians.

“New super villain is pictured decimating the Guardians. There seems to be no previous record of this figure. It appears as if he was after the Guardians specifically. Nobody knows names, but everybody is asking questions. Why did they do this?”

“Early witnesses describe seeing the fight originally between this mysterious individual and Atom Eve. It must have been a planned attack, as Atom Eve was recently out due to presumed injuries acquired during the Invincible War.”

“Whoever this is seems to have a vendetta against her. As of now, all the Guardians are safe and receiving medical attention. Perhaps the most odd thing about this is that this figure fled the fight. Why? We have no idea. However, we’re grateful nonetheless. Eyewitnesses seemed to see the figure flee soon after they started filming the fight up close. Perhaps the new villain is camera shy?” You snort reading that last line.

You look at the photos provided by various witnesses. All show the initial battle between the person fighting Atom Eve. All you can see is their back, you vaguely register that they look to be masculine, but it’s difficult to tell with the low quality and distance. Eventually, when they turn to face the camera’s direction, it just turns into a blur. 

After scrolling through the photos, you read the rest of the article. The second half seems to detail the damage done to the Guardians. It’s crazy how much is occurring right now. First, those Invincibles, then Conquest, and now the Guardians? 

“That’s wild…” You mutter, scrolling up and down through the article.

“What’s wild?” A voice says.

“OH MY GOSH! MARK?!” You press yourself to the back of your chair, jumping in surprise. “When’d you get back?! I didn’t even hear you open the front door?”

He doesn’t respond, instead, your eyes are drawn to the pizza box he holds up.

“Oh, you actually got pizza.” You smile, standing up and walking out to the kitchen. He trails behind you and places the box down.

“You doubted me?” He asks as you grab plates for you two.

“Nah.” You grab a slice. “Anyway, where’d you go?” You ask casually, sitting down.

“Out.” He responds, grabbing the plate and getting a slice.

“Ooh, how descriptive.” You chuckle, taking a bite of the pizza. 

“How were you while I was gone?” He asks, changing the subject. 

“Eh, bored. I was doing some work, but then I got caught up reading an article. Apparently, some guy went out and attacked the Guardians.” His head slowly turns toward you as you speak.

“Somebody attacked the guardians.” He said, looking at you, nodding in affirmation. “Did you see who it was?” He asks casually.

You shake your head, “No. People are saying he’s camera shy. Nobody could get a clean shot without him fleeing the scene.” You chuckle at the thought. Imagine being so powerful that you could take on the Guardians alone, but flee at the first sign of a phone.

“Camera shy.” He repeats, looking at you, and he looks slightly disturbed. 

“Yep, at least that’s what the article said. Wouldn’t show his face anywhere. Must be new. Probably doesn’t want people to be able to trace his identity. Hey, it’s kinda funny how he popped up after Invincibile went MIA.” 

“I doubt he’d want to fight Invincible. Probably creates too many issues.” He looks at the pizza slice, studying it.

“Where’d you get this pizza anyway? I think this is the best pizza I’ve ever had.” You continue, you turn your gaze to the blank pizza box. Not even a company name on there. You snap your attention back to him, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna keep it a secret too.”

He eats in silence, not making eye contact with you.

“Markkkk!” You groan. “Come on, it can't be that important to keep it a secret.” You frown, looking at him. He continues to eat in silence, ignoring your presence entirely. “We’re friends, right? Come on.”

He finally looks up, “Oh, friends? Hm, didn’t realize.” He says offhandedly. “Are you going to want more?” He asks, looking at the box.

“Changing the subject, I see.” You observe. “We can save it for later.” You finish up your slice.

“Don’t tell me you were actually getting pizza for two hours?” You ask as you start to clean the dishes.

His lips turn up to resemble a smile, “I wasn’t.”

--------------------------

“Are you sure it was him?” Cecil asks, standing across Eve’s hospital bed. 

She narrows her eyes before standing up, “Yes, I’m sure. I think I’d recognize Mark when I see him.” She starts to walk to the door.

“Anything notable about him?” Cecil asks, following her to the doorway, she pauses.

“Aside from the fact that he single-handedly beat us in combat?” She asks, turning to face him.

“You barely had any time to recover after Conquest, and you were unprepared.” Cecil justifies, shaking his head.

“We didn’t get the chance to tell you that it wasn’t Mark out there. Don’t beat yourself up.” He places a hand on her shoulder.

Eve looks down, frowning, “He fought much differently than I had expected from Mark, even an alternate version.” 

Cecil nods as if expecting that, “He fought like a Viltrumite, right?” She nods. “That’s expected.” He walks past her, gesturing to her to follow. 

“Based on the information we gathered, the version that was left behind joined the Viltrum Empire. We highly suspect he was even raised on Viltrum.” Eve follows behind as he explains.

“While I hate to say it, he’s probably going to share more similarities with Nolan than he will with our Mark.” He pauses to look at Eve.

She looks down, conflicted, “But.. isn’t he a version of Mark? Can we maybe appeal to him in some way? I mean, they are the same person in a literal sense. Deep down, maybe he can be reasoned with.” 

“I doubt it,” Cecil responds, and Eve looks up at him.

“Have you even tried?” She asks, slightly frustrated.

Cecil shakes his head, “No, and if you know what’s good for everyone, you won’t. He’s a Viltrumite. Our Mark is a different case, and if we’ve learned anything from Viltrumites from Viltrum…” He pauses before turning towards her. 

“They see us as lower beings, pets. They cannot be appealed to. Our Mark is the special case. Don’t think that because they’re the same person, they have the same principles.” 

She goes silent, “So, what do you want me to do if I encounter him?” She asks softly.

Cecil looks at her, determined, “Don’t hold back.” 

--------------------------

You wake up the next morning feeling a tingle in your throat. No…

You are not getting sick. You refuse to. Maybe if you drink water..?

You take a sip, hoping the tingle will go away. It doesn’t. You try clearing your throat to see if it will go away. Damn.

Mark walks into your room, “Are you dying?” He asks, unconcerned. 

“Maybe,” He suddenly looks up alarmed, “I think I’m getting sick.” You both look at each other.

He takes a step back, creating distance between you two. “Oh, come on. Seriously? You’ve been here for days, and you’ve been fine.” 

“I don’t want whatever foreign illness you may have acquired.” He grimaces. 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic.” You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not. I just don’t like viruses.” He states. 

“You never even get sick! I rarely see you get sick, if ever!” You exclaim.

“Yeah, cause I keep my distance.” He replies.

“It’s just a sore throat, Mark. It’s not like I have the plague.” You groan. “I’m going to make some tea.” 

He watches you walk past him to the kitchen, following behind you. “How did you even get sick?” He asks.

You shrug, “I don’t know. Stress perhaps? I haven’t been around anybody but you recently. Unless you were recovering from being sick when you came over.” You theorize out loud. Mark watches as you grab a tea bag and mug. 

“I doubt that. Why would you be stressed?” He asks, sitting down on one of the kitchen stools.

“Not sure. There was that attack all those Invincibles did and that whole Conquest thing.” You guess. 

“You weren’t even near those attacks, though.” Mark frowns.

“Yeah, but you were near one of them.” You attempt to clear your throat.

“So you’re stressing over me?” He asks, seemingly confused over the concept.

You misinterpret his confusion, “Mark, you don’t stress me out. Life,” You gesture outside, “does. The possibility of death is a little bit stressful.”

He looks at you, conflicted. You can’t imagine why. “So you’re sick cause you’re stressed about my, what, well-being?” He asks.

You sigh, “Don’t think too hard, Mark.” You can see the gears turning in his head. For some reason, he can’t seem to fathom you caring like that. “I was just guessing anyway.”

“So you don’t even know why you’re sick?” He reiterates, seeming incapable of not understanding how you don’t know the exact cause of your illness.

“That’s kinda what a ‘guess’ means, yeah.” You nod amused.

“Are the hospitals here that bad?” He asks. You can’t tell if he’s actually asking you or not. It seems like he’s talking to himself. 

“What?” You chuckle, confused, “I don’t think a cold requires a hospital trip.” He looks at you, seemingly conflicted.

“Okay…” He doesn’t seem to accept the answer, “Do you need anything?” He asks.

You smile, “Probably just some rest.” You clear your throat. “Ugh, I sound awful.” You shudder. 

Mark watches you for a moment before leaving the room suddenly. You frown, “Damn, bye I guess.” You mutter to yourself.

You drink your tea for about a minute before he returns. He has a blanket in his arms.

You watch as he walks behind you, placing it on your back like a cloak. His hand lingers on your shoulder.

You feel moved by his kindness, so you don’t mention that you feel like you're burning alive. You accept the blanket. “Thanks.” You smile.

He looks at you, eyes softening for a brief moment before looking away. You wonder if you imagined it, seeing as there’s been nothing but a serious expression on his face these days.

“We can share the bed if you’d like. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I can’t imagine it’ll be helpful for your recovery.” He avoids eye contact.

You chuckle amused before coughing, “Weren’t you the one who didn’t even want to be near me?” You can feel your face heating up. Damn, maybe you have a fever. You do feel like you’re melting.

He eventually looks at you, all softness (imagined or not) gone from his expression. “The offer stands.” He responds.

“What is this, a business transaction?” You start laughing, but launch yourself into a coughing fit. “Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer.” You say, not thinking anything of it.

Mark nods stoically, not saying anything else on the subject.

“Mark,” you feel reluctant to bring the topic up, “are you doing… okay?” You think back to his distance from Eve and William.

He pauses, unsure where this is going. “Yes, why?” He responds, his tone betraying nothing.

“It’s just… I thought you and Eve had a” you gesture at him, “thing��� going on.” You take a sip of your tea. 

Mark stared at you, “You thought we were courting?” He asks, seemingly appalled by the idea.

“Yeah, I mean you’re with her all the time. Then suddenly you’re here and refuse to speak with her.” You tap on your mug. “It’s not any of my business, I know, but I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.” You look up at him. He looks at you silently.

“I don’t care about Eve.” He eventually breaks the silence.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “Mark…” You sigh, “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to.” You take another sip. 

“Just…” you pause, looking up at him. His eyes are dead set on you, his expression cold. “Remember, she’s also your friend. William too. Don’t push them away over something trivial.”

Mark says your name, “Nothing is going on between us. Don’t misunderstand,” you see his expression shift as he says that last part, “I really have nothing going on with Eve.” 

You smile softly, not really believing him. You’ve seen them together. They lean into each other like nobody else exists. They share smiles with each other that nobody seems to understand. They seem to exist purely in each other’s existence. 

“Okay.” You sigh, not really believing him. “Just, at least try to contact them. They’d want to know you’re safe.” 

Mark nods, avoiding eye contact, “Alright.”

--------------------------

After you finish your tea, you go to watch TV on the couch. Nothing interesting is on the screen. You cough again, and you can feel Mark watching you.

You let the TV drone on for a while before you feel yourself drifting off. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Mark’s attention snaps to the door. You sigh, getting up.

You go to the door, covered in the blanket Mark gave you. ”Eve?” You look at her, surprised. “What’re you doing here?” You sniffle.

“I came here to see how you’re doing.” She smiles, amused. She looks at the blanket on your back. “Sick?”

You nod miserably, “Yeah. Woke up this morning not feeling too good. Do you wanna come…” Something catches your attention to your left.

You can see Mark wildly gesturing an “X,” mouthing something along the lines of “DON’T LET HER IN!” You furrow your eyebrows, but he looks at you expectantly.

“... back later? I’m really not feeling too well.” You force another cough. It sounds real since you are actually sick.

She frowns sympathetically, “Of course. Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay after everything that’s been going on. Haven’t really gotten a chance to check in.” 

You nod, as you watch Mark shake his head disapprovingly to the side. “Of course. I’m glad to hear you’re okay. I trust William is fine, too?” You ask. She nods, smiling, “Yeah, both he and Mark are fine.” You nod before pausing.

“Wait, Mark contacted you?” You frown, confused. You see Mark move toward you, still out of view of Eve.

“Yeah..?” Eve frowns even more confused. 

You look toward Mark, confused, and he gestures for you to close the door on Eve. “Oh, okay, well, thanks for checking in, Eve. I’m going to rest.” You gesture to your room. She nods.

“Of course, get better soon.” She smiles. You wave as she walks away before closing the door and turning to Mark.

“So…” You say slowly. Mark looks down, glaring at the floor as if it offended him. “You did contact her.” 

You sigh, “Mark, I’m not mad or anything. I’m just concerned.” You frown. “Why did you lie about contacting her?” Mark looks up, seeing you looking at him, hurt. 

“It’s nothing.” He brushes it off. You furrow your eyebrows. “Mark, if you’re here just to avoid Eve, then yes, it is something.”

”You think I’m here just to avoid her?” He asks incredulously. 

You look away from him, “Let’s just drop the subject. I’m going to bed.” You start to go to your room to lie down. Mark watches you leave, and he looks hurt. You can’t imagine why.

As you enter your room, you close the door behind you. You are about to go to bed when you see Mark’s bag open. His stuff is scattered right next to it. You sigh, picking up some of his items and throwing them into the bag. You don’t want to step on it or trip over anything.

When you throw some of his stuff into the bag, you notice some bright piece of clothing stashed neatly in there. You were going to ignore it until you saw a bright red stain on it. 

Your eyebrows furrow before you slowly move closer. You didn’t mean to snoop. It’s just that white is a very distinctive color, and a red stain like that doesn’t look normal. Perhaps you can offer to wash it for him? 

Suddenly, he opens the door, medicine in hand, his eyes gravitate to you. He looks at his bag. “What are you doing?” He asks gravely.

“Your stuff was making a mess. I didn’t want to trip over it.” You say. He (not subtly) moves to cover your view of the bag, zipping it up. 

“Get some rest.” He responds coldly. You feel yourself shrink under his cold demeanor. Is he mad at you because of the (unintentional) snooping, or because of the whole Eve situation? You don’t even know.

You do know one thing, however. Mark is hiding something. You don’t know how big, but it’s something he clearly does not want you to know.

Sure, it may not be any of your business, but you can’t help but feel like this is not something you should turn away from. You sit down on the bed, getting under the covers. 

You look at the lone bag that Mark zipped up. He didn’t have to say anything, but the message was clear. “Don’t open this bag.” His eyes told you. 

You flip over, facing the other direction. He has been acting so weird recently, distant. You kept telling yourself it was just shock from what happened, but does shock justify lies? You don’t know.

You look towards the medicine he left on the nightstand. You look at the extra blanket he grabbed for you. You snuggle closer to the blanket. Sure, he’s distant, but he’s still Mark. You turn again to the zipped-up bag.

Right?

Side note: I think this will probably be a 4-5 part series. While I will get that done, I also want to make other fics. I have this one idea for a no goggles mark fic that I'm in the middle of writing, so be on the lookout for that if you're interested. I'll probably post that one next. So yes, there will be a part 3. It just might be a bit of a longer wait than this one was though.

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[lady-pug]

Lipstick Stamps

Summary: Bob doesn’t seem to think himself deserving of good things, such as a relationship, and you make it your personal mission to prove him wrong, one kiss at a time

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

Word count: 3,4k

Warnings: self-esteem issues and feelings of unworthiness (on Bob's part); spoilers about the ending of Thunderbolts*

Notes: Hey people! I’m back, and this time writing for a new fandom! I’ve been an avid Marvel fan since I was a kid actually I’ve just never gotten around to writing for it before. BUT I watched Thunderbolts* and I, while I thought it would feed into my crush on Bucky and Yelena, I actually ended up falling in love with Bob. I think he deserves all the love in the world and decided to take matters into my own hands. I intend to write more for Bob and also for Bucky (I have a few ideas already) and maybe Yelena.

Thanks @fruityvampslayer for the prompt (also, requests are open, you can send requests and prompts anytime, it is greatly appreciated)!

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

There are no physical descriptions of the reader other than wearing makeup, and it can be read as any gender. Also, when describing the formal attire I tried to keep descriptions to a minimum so you can imagine what the reader is wearing.

Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bob had no idea how he ended up in this situation. He didn’t know what he did to even deserve to be in this situation at all. 

No, actually, that was a lie. He knew exactly how he ended up in this situation.

The day at the Watchtower had started out like any other: breakfast early in the morning with you and Alexei, the older man having a hard time keeping his voice at an ‘indoors’ level, as usual. Then a run around the block with Bucky even though Bob hated running as the supersoldier insisted he needed to stay active and in shape. After training with Bucky and Ava, followed by lunch with the whole team prepared by you and Alexei, Bob took a couple of hours to himself, reading a book you had recommended in his room. 

During the first few months living in the tower he would often isolate himself in his new room, away from everyone. It was safe, it was known to him. But then, little by little, he started opening up, first to you and Yelena, then to the rest of the team. Now, where first he would lock himself up in his room, he would make an effort to spend more time with each of his teammates, his friends. He would still retire to his room throughout the day, he did enjoy his alone time after all, but instead of locking his door and half dreading, half hoping someone would come looking for him, he would now leave his door slightly ajar, inviting anyone in should they search for him. Most of the time he hoped it would be you.

But then, just as he was about to start preparing everything for his biweekly afternoon tea with you, Yelena and, surprisingly, John, Valentina had come in a rush, her heels clicking against the floor as she gave instructions to Mel about dresses and ties, and called for an emergency meeting.

“What is this all about?” Yelena asked, her arms crossed and annoyance written all over her face.

“Well, the New Avengers have a gala with the investors tonight.” Valentina shrugged, all while Mel still typed away on her phone. 

Everyone but Alexei groaned, while Bob fiddled his thumbs nervously. 

“Again?” Bucky asked, exasperated.

“What, do you have something better to do on a Tuesday night?” Valentina mocked.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” you answered curtly “It’s movie night.”

Movie night. It started out in the first weeks of everyone living in the Watchtower. You had asked Bob if he wanted to watch a movie with you. Your explanation had been that it was this new horror movie that had just been released, and that you were normally too much of a scaredy-cat to watch it on your own. You were so full of shit and Bob could see right through it, he knew it was just an excuse to get him to join you. And yet he did it anyway. He had been right, as you ended up watching ‘The Lion King 2’ instead of whatever horror flick you had been planning (that is if you hadn’t lied about that as well). The following week you had invited him again, and the next, and on the week after that Yelena asked if she could join. Then Alexei. After a while it became a tradition between the whole team to watch a movie while eating pizza on Tuesday nights. 

“Oh, how cute.” Valentina mocked before turning serious once more “It’s non negotiable.”

Everyone started grumbling once more before she cut it off.

“Who do you think pays for all of this?” she gestured around “The maintenance of this place? The equipment you use on your missions? It certainly doesn’t all come from government grants, right Congressmen Barnes?”

Bucky, although still annoyed, looked away sheepishly, as Alexei tried hyping everyone up.

“Come on, it will be fun night!” he practically shouted, much to Yelena’s dismay. 

At the end of the day they couldn’t argue with Valentina, especially not after Mel casually mentioned it was an open bar and had free food. 

Bob was a little bummed at the change of plans but resigned himself to watching ‘Revenge Of The Sith' alone. Just as he was about to leave the briefing room, his head hung, he felt something tugging on his sleeve.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you asked, the corner of your lips turning up in a small smirk.

“I-I mean, you guys have to go get ready and all.” he shrugged “I don’t want to get in the way.”

Your smile softened, your fingers trailing down his arm and wrapping around his own. 

“You never get in the way, Bob.” 

His own lips betrayed him, for he smiled bashfully at you, looking at the floor. 

“Why don’t you come with us tonight?” you asked, hopefully. At least Bob hoped you sounded hopeful. God, he was so pathetic. 

“I don’t-” he cleared his throat “I mean, I don’t know.”

He knew he wasn’t like the rest of you. He wasn’t a supersoldier, like Bucky, Alexei and John, or could phase through walls like you and Ava. Hells, he could barely throw a punch like Yelena, and he couldn’t even use his powers without risking wiping out half the city. Not until he could get him under control.

“Come on, you heard Alexei, it will be fun!” you playfully elbowed him on the ribs “Besides you’d be saving me from a huge headache. Do you think I want to spend yet another evening rubbing elbows with a bunch of rich old men? Let the Congressmen do the talking this time.”

He tried, he really tried. It wasn’t really his scene anway. But he couldn’t say no to you. Not when you batted your eyelashes at him like that, soft yet cheeky grin on your lips, one hip cocked to the side oh so prettily-

Okay, he quickly shut down that line of thought before he said anything stupid.

But the way your face lit up when he eventually agreed was worth the few hours of him being stuffed in the uncomfortable suit you had requested Mel find for him last minute. 

By the time he was ready to go he was feeling kind of anxious, waiting, hoping for you to show up, second guessing your invitation all together. But when you did show up…

You looked… breathtaking was the only word he could use to describe you. Your hair looked fancily put together, and your elegant outfit was so form fitting he had to stop himself from downright ogling at you. And the way that red lipstick suited you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off your mouth. Not in a creepy way, of course. He hoped.

“Don’t you clean up nicely!” you mentioned as you stopped in front of him, fixing up his crooked tie.

He smiled. You always made him feel so safe, so normal. 

“You’re one to talk.” he tried joking back to you, but to his own ears he sounded so lame. But it worked, at least to some degree, for you averted your gaze, a small bashful smile spreading across your face.

“So, are you ready to go?” you asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” he nodded, but it was a lie. He was anything but ready. He was so nervous. 

And yet… he actually found himself having fun! You stuck by his side the whole night, even after he said you didn’t have to refrain from having a good time for his sake.

“Has it ever occurred to you, Bob, sweetheart,” you smiled, gently “that I actually like spending time with you?”

He couldn’t help the way his cheeks flushed at your words, his heart beating so fast in his chest. He didn’t dare question you again.

At one point in the night, though, some soft, slow music started playing on the speakers and it was like all attendees and their plus ones started flocking to the dancefloor. 

After a few beats of you both staring at the people dancing he glanced at you, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Don’t you wanna go dance with someone?” he asked, and for a moment he could swear your face lit up in a hopeful expression before you quickly schooled it back to your neutral look.

“Nah, I’m good. I have two left feet, if you know what I mean.” you chuckled, and he laughed along with you. 

He glanced longingly at the dancefloor, all of them couples having fun together. 

“What’s on your mind?” he startled, not expecting to find you staring at him still.

“How nice it must be.” he mumbled after a beat “To have someone.”

It was your turn to stare at all the people before turning back to him.

“Yeah, I guess so.” you smiled softly at him, but it felt… off. There was a downturn to your lip that almost resembled a frown “You’ll find someone one day, Bob, I’m sure you will.”

He shook his head, a sad smile growing on his face.

“I’m not sure that’s on the cards for me.”

Your face fell in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, almost as if you were personally insulted by this.

“I mean, I don’t think I deserve something like that, you know. Not after everything.” he sighed, shoulders dropping “And besides who could possibly want someone like-”

He could see the exact moment your face hardened as you took a step towards him, cutting him off mid sentence.

“Someone like what?” you asked, voice low and, dare he say, menacing.

Now he was afraid to say it. You looked mad, and the last thing he had wanted was to upset you. But in Bob’s eyes it was true. He was a loser, he couldn’t even help the team properly as of yet, and he had almost killed everyone including you. He couldn’t possibly fathom how anyone, much less someone as cool and kind and badass like you, could be into him.

“Someone like, you know, me.” he confessed.

And that’s how he ended up here.

Your back had straightened, face cold and unreadable as you reached for his hand and yanked him after you. He started mumbling apology after apology, stuttering profusely as he tried to make sense of where you were going.

As it turned out you pulled him away from the dancefloor and out of the building completely, ditching the rest of the team as you quickly hauled a cab.

“Get in.” you said, a sudden yet gentle tug for him to get in the backseat after you.

Your hand didn’t let go of his hand until you were both out of the car and inside the Watchtower. You dragged him all the way to the residential level, only letting go so you could make a quick stop in your room to grab something he couldn’t quite figure out before you were leading him to his own room. He had half a mind to push the door closed behind him once you both entered, still uneasy about having made you angry even though he didn’t quite know what he did wrong.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-”

You didn’t let him finish, swiftly heading to his bathroom with a short “make yourself comfortable” thrown over your shoulder.

His mind was reeling. What had just happened? He pondered over the events of the evening, trying to sort them out in his head as he toed off his loafers. One moment you two were fine, joking around with one another and then… 

He ruined everything, a nagging voice spoke from deep within his mind as he  removed his blazer and carefully folded it. He made you angry, forcing you to abandon the gala and bring him to the tower, now you were going to leave him here, and go back there and finally have the fun night you had been promised and…

Just as he was just loosening his tie and popping the collar button open you stormed back in, and before he could get even a word out you lightly shoved him backwards by the shoulders.

“Listen here, Bob.” your voice was low, raspy even. While your makeup was still untouched you had changed into an oversized, comfy looking band tee, and had he not been mortified over having put his foot in his mouth he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from you now exposed thighs “I won’t stand by and listen to you talk like that about yourself. I won’t accept it, I won’t allow it.”

Your last words were punctuated by a firm shove, making the back of his knees hit the mattress. He tripped over his own feet, falling on his butt on the bed.

“B-But it’s true.” 

A sigh of disappointment left your lips and he wanted to look away, hide in his own shame, but before he could even react you were climbing onto his lap, both legs extended on each side of his torso and hands placed carefully on his shoulders.

“No it isn’t, Bob.” both your face and your tone softened, your hands travelling up to cup his cheeks gently yet firmly, forcing him to keep his eyes on you “I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you, love.”

Somewhere along the way his heart had practically stopped beating altogether. He didn’t know if it was your words or the position you found yourselves in but something made his breath hitch in his chest. Had you not been looking at him so reverently, like he hung all the stars in the sky, he was positive you’d have laughed at him, both his hands up like he was being held at gunpoint, not knowing where to place them, and a deep blush dusting his cheeks.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you.” you smiled softly then, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

He smiled back at you, but it didn’t match your own. No, his smile was sad, almost like he was pitying you.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” he whispered, not only to you but to himself.

Your eyes shifted, determination shining in them, but it wasn’t hard like before, it was warm and resolute. Then, without looking away from him, you slowly touched your forehead against his. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to convince you otherwise, if you let me.” you spoke softly, your breath fanning against his lips “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk out that door and we can pretend this never happened.”

His entire body was trembling with restraint. 

“I don’t deserve it.” he rasped out, scared “I don’t deserve you.”

Once his words registered in your mind you couldn’t hold back any longer, pulling his face towards you. But where he thought your lips would settle over his own, he felt you place a delicate kiss on his right cheek. 

“That’s not true, love.” you whispered against his skin.

He wanted to. God, did he want to. But he shook his head, feeling a knot in his throat.

“I don’t know how.” he whimpered.

Ever so slowly you moved to his other cheek, placing yet another warm kiss on his skin.

“Neither do I, to be honest. We’ll learn together.”

His hands settled on your waist then, some of the resistance leaving him. You took this as a sign to keep going and, with a soft pull on his jaw, bowed his head so you could place a peck on his forehead, and another one on the tip of his nose.

“Let me show you how much you mean to me.” 

Something in him snapped. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he searched your own, for what he wasn’t sure. A sign that you were lying? You wouldn’t. Reassurance? Perhaps. But he just knew that whatever it is you were offering him, you meant it.

“Please.” he whispered in a broken whine.

All you needed was a single word to unleash all you had been holding back, tightening your hold on his face and moving his head to your liking. Your lips were everywhere, on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, his chin, his neck, his ears, his temple, his jaw, even his own lips. Anywhere you could reach, gone were the featherlight kisses from before, replaced with fierce yet gentle ones, with enough pressure to leave his skin tingling. It was like you were trying to kiss every bad thought and insecurity out of his system. He knew that you knew it didn’t work like that, but damn if you weren’t going to try.

He felt like he was melting, right then and there on his own bed, his head airy and light and, for once in his life, quiet. His limbs felt heavy, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your waist, hands slipping down to your hips.

Your words weren’t helping his case either. After every caress of your lips on his skin you’d say something that left his heart soaring. 

“You are so strong, love. So brave.” he didn’t believe that most days, but the way you said it made him just the tiniest bit inclined to agree.

“You’re such a handsome man. A pretty, pretty boy.” he knew he didn’t hold a candle to the likes of Bucky, but if you were saying it there must be some truth behind it, right?

“So warm. And solid and real. You’re real, Bob.” he didn’t quite know what to make of that but coming from you it must be a compliment.

He didn’t want it to end. Perhaps the world, his world, could be summed up to this moment, right here. He never wanted to leave his room if it meant having you, like this, being in your hold and under your spell forever. Now that he finally had this he didn’t want to let it go. But, he guessed, all good things must come to an end. 

“So this is where you kids ran off to!” Alexei’s booming voice sounded from the corridor, startling Bob and making you sigh in annoyance.  

The door. In his haste earlier Bob had completely forgotten to close his bedroom door. And now, all the other Thunderbolts were standing in the doorway looking several different degrees of smug.

“Come on guys, let’s leave the lovebirds alone.” Yelena ushered them, not before throwing a wink at Bob, much to his embarrassment. 

Just as the last of them disappeared down the hallway and Bob’s shoulders finally relaxed, Walker backtracked and poked his head back on the doorway.

“Oh, by the way, you have something on your face, Bob.” he said, making a circular motion all over his face “Right around here.”

“What?!” Bob squeaked, practically throwing you on the bed as he rushed to the bathroom. There, in the mirror, was his own reflection staring back at him, his entire face and neck covered in red lipstick marks, all in the exact shape of your lips. 

“Oh, come on!” he saw you in the mirror running to the door of his bedroom and peering out into the hallway before shouting “Yelena! You promised me this one was transfer proof!”

Bob should be mortified. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely was. But he was also… happy. Overjoyed, in fact. So much so he started giggling in front of the mirror, both from your antics and from his appearance. His giggles turned into hearty chuckles and then into full blown laughter, his whole body shaking from the force of it. You came to check up on him, a small embarrassed smile of your own stretching across your lips, which he noticed were still painted in a now smudged shade of red.

“What’s so funny, huh, mister?” you asked playfully, to which he couldn’t resist holding your chin in his fingers, his thumb rubbing a smear of lipstick from the corner of your mouth and placing a kiss of his own on your lips.

“Thank you.” he breathed it once he pulled away.

You shrugged, holding onto his wrist to keep him from pulling away entirely. 

“You deserve it, Bob.”

It was still hard to hear. It made something itch inside him, like it was bubbling to come out and deny it, destroying this little bit of happiness he had forged for himself. He knew it would take a while, a long while, until he actually believed it, and that there would be days when it would be harder to believe you than others, but maybe, just maybe, this could be a start.

“Yeah.” he grinned, feeling like he probably looked like a lovesick puppy “Maybe I do.”

[cacoetheswriting]

we can't be friends | chapter five from right where you left me.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern day au) word count: 5.7k

summary: He’s there, so close, yet oceans apart. You’re drifting together, yet separately. You want to pull him aside and ask if you’d done something wrong since last night, or even this morning, when it all seemed blissful, but you’re too cowardly to do so. A win is a win, you think. You got him to forgive you, what more could you ask for. Everything. Your stomach sinks and your heart aches just a little.

content warnings: forced proximity, friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, angsty, slow burn, suggestive & mature themes, adult language, emotional hurt / comfort, this chapter is their fluff era, some serious mutual pining, use of pet names, plus mentions & descriptions of underage alcohol consumption / substance abuse, recreational drug use, discusses sobriety, also touches on topics of: death, grief, toxic relationships, gaslighting, self-doubt / insecurities, love triangle?, unrequited love — pls let me know if i missed any!

psa: any images used in chapter headers don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also vaguely — if at all— described in the story.

When morning light sneaks in through the half-opened blinds, you slowly blink awake, taking in your surroundings and a smile creeps up on your features.

You slept on the couch. Actually, you slept on top of Eddie who slept on the couch. Legs tangled together under the fleece blanket, one strong arm draped over your body, chin pressed to the top of your head, holding you close.

Someone clears their throat, interrupting your momentary bliss. You jolt as if you’d been caught doing something illegal and sit upright as your head snaps to see Steve leaning against the arch frame, smirking at what he’s just witnessed.

“Well, isn’t this a sight to behold.” He says, arms crossed over his chest. “Nice to see you two really made up.”

“Fuck off, Harrington.” A grumble comes from beneath you. Low. Territorial.

When you look down, Eddie’s eyes are still closed, so you focus yet again on Steve. His grin an inch wider than before as he raises a brow at you. He mouths something intangible, although you have a feeling it’s inappropriate and your cheeks bloom with blood at the insinuation.

In the meantime, Eddie moves a hand to your hip. His right. The one close to the couch. The one Steve can’t see because it’s hidden behind you. A lingering secret that sends a shiver through your entire being, while also making you hyper aware of your current position. You are practically sitting in the metal-heads lap. The sudden reshuffling due to Steve’s presence caused this development and because you don’t hate it, the feeling of Eddie’s groin beneath your pelvis, you hurry off. The brunette, the sofa.

This causes Eddie to open his eyes. Your back is to him and he wonders for a moment what you’d do if he reached for you again, pulling you onto him once more because he already misses the feeling. Instead, he stretches.

“Coffee?” You quip and without waiting for an answer from either of the guys, you disappear into the kitchen.

The eavesdropping is unintentional. They just start talking, rather loudly, before you get a chance to turn on the fancy coffee machine.

“I meant what I said, dude.”

“What?”

“About you two making up. It’s nice to see.”

A beat of silence. Your finger hovers over the ON button in wait for Eddie’s next words. Unintentionally, of course.

“It never should have taken this long.”

Your heart skitters behind your ribs. The coffee machine lights up, whirring into life. Eddie’s voice fills every inch of your brain as you watch the dark liquid pour into a mug, smiling to yourself. They join you a second later. The topic has changed, but you don’t care to listen in anymore because you got what you wanted. 

Steve asks if you feel like coming with him for a smoke. You shake your head and tell him later, after coffee. Eddie says the same, so Harrington slides out the back door, leaving you alone with the metal-head once more.

“Morning,” he says with a smile, approaching where you stand. “How’d you sleep?”

‘Never better’ seems like too loaded of an answer for this unchartered territory. You opt for a politically correct, “Not long enough.”

Eddie laughs. “You could say that again.”

You slide the full cup on the counter, in his direction, and grab another one. He thanks you, bringing the brim to his mouth as the machine starts buzzing. It scalds him, the coffee. He grimaces briefly, dabbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, but goes back in for another sip because you’re the one that made it and as ridiculous as it may be, he’ll drink molten lava if you were ever to offer.

He leans against the counter and drinks his burning coffee. Soon, you do the same. Your arm brushes against his and the silence stretches on. Nothing but the sound of birds chirping outside and Harrington’s voice coming in through the parted door, presumably on the phone to his mom.

“Or Henderson,” Eddie says because apparently now he can read your mind.

You look up at him. His side profile. The dotted freckles like a sprinkle of cinnamon and you begin to count them, like you did last night when he leaned in to kiss you. At least you think that’s what he wanted to do. He stopped himself with an inch of space between your lips and his, and redirected to peck your forehead instead.

Then he sprung off the couch, asking if it would be okay that he have another beer. You sat there for a moment, after Eddie disappeared into the kitchen, replaying his incline in your mind until you wanted to scream. All of this was too confusing, too raw. You needed a cigarette, so you robbed one from Steve’s packet, poorly hidden inside the pocket of his jacket, and barefoot, stepped out the front door into the starry night.

Eddie found you a couple of minutes later and asked if you were okay, in that soft voice of his. The one that makes you weak in the knees — always has. Not really knowing how to answer honestly, you nodded your head and exhaled some smoke.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Eddie wonders, catching your eyes.

You nod again.

“You said you wished I told you about seeing Billy that night, because maybe things would have gone differently.” He pauses, intentionally leaving out the ‘us’ part since he’s slightly afraid to get the answer to his own question. “What did you mean by that? I asked, but we were… interrupted.”

Exhaling another puff of smoke, you briefly chew on your bottom lip, pondering how to word your thoughts on the matter in a coherent way and not like the ramblings of a girl pathetically obsessing over her ex-best friend, his feelings, and her own feelings towards him.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have left,” you say.

“It would have been that simple?”

When your throat starts to close up and the tears threaten to bubble up to the surface, you put out your half-finished cigarette and wordlessly head back inside. Your first instinct is to say goodnight, without answering his follow up question, and go sleep in your own bedroom. You linger in the hallway, considering, until the metal-head’s fingers intertwine with yours and he leads you towards the sofa.

The question remains unanswered in the morning and you’re hoping he doesn’t bring it up again. 

And Eddie doesn’t. 

Not while you finish your coffee, not while he helps you with breakfast, not while the group saunters in one by one, not while you all eat. The answer remains a secret, just like knowing whether he actually wanted to kiss you or not.

When you go upstairs to get ready for the day, Eddie doesn’t follow. For all of five minutes, you’re grateful to be alone. Under the shower however, as the hot water scalds your skin and as you lather yourself with orange-scented body wash, you wish he was here with you, talking to you, touching you. A lot of force is required to push those thoughts deep. To drown them, down the drain with the soapy water of your morning rinse.

Despite being friendly, somewhat friends, there’s now an awkward tension between you and the curly-haired brunette. He sits in your car for the drive into town, although he makes himself comfortable in the back and doesn’t say a word the entire drive. Just steals glances through the rearview mirror. Once parked, he walks off with Steve and Jonathan in the opposite direction, when you hoped he’d go with you, and a few hours later, when the group meets for lunch, he sits at the far end of the restaurant table and only converses with Nancy.

You feel like you’re going insane.

He’s there, so close, yet oceans apart. You’re drifting together, yet separately. You want to pull him aside and ask if you’d done something wrong since last night, or even this morning, when it all seemed blissful, but you’re too cowardly to do so. A win is a win, you think. You got him to forgive you, what more could you ask for. Everything. Your stomach sinks and your heart aches just a little.

The group doesn’t split again after the bill is settled and the waiters thanked. You walk together through the main street, looking in the windows of the local stores, talking, laughing. Robin’s babbling in your ear about her girlfriend while you nod along, her happiness radiating through you, if only momentarily. You tell her how you’d love to meet her and she says, “soon”, because it really is that simple and you’d forgotten how long it’s been when life was easy.

Someone tugs at your jacket, pulling you backwards. You barely get a chance to apologise to Robin and suddenly the group is twenty-or-so steps ahead while you remain, with Eddie holding onto you.

“What’s going on?” He asks, tone pressing, eyebrow raised.

You blink, taken aback since he’s the one who’s backing weird, not you.

“Did something happen?” Eddie questions further and you force yourself to shake your head.

“You tell me?”

“Me?”

“Eddie…” It’s more of a sigh. A huff.

He furrows his dark brows. Confusion spreads through his features, matching the expression on your face, and you stare at each other for a whole minute.

His ring-clad fingers are still holding onto your jacket, clinging onto the hem. He doesn’t pull you closer and he doesn’t make any effort to take a step forward either, to lessen the gap. He just stands there, holding a piece of your clothing, and staring at you with those big brown eyes. For some reason, this feels a whole lot more intimate than sleeping together on the coach.

You clear your throat, the dryness becoming unbearable.

“Eddie,” you say his name again, “You’re the one that’s been ignoring me since breakfast.”

“I haven’t,” he protests, “Not intentionally, anyway.”

“Well, it seems like you have.”

And then the unexpected happens: he laughs. Loud and pure. Head hanging, swaying side to side, as the giggles carry through the light breeze. It further deepens your confusion, but the sound is infectious and sure enough, you’re laughing too.

“One night of open communication must’ve drained the batteries,” he says, grinning. “We really must get better at that.”

“Talking?”

“Talking even when there’s nothing to say.”

And he finally pulls you close, swinging one arm around your shoulders. He places a tender kiss on your temple and you can feel him smiling against your skin.

“You smell nice,” he mutters into you and your heart pitter-patters.

“Oranges,” you tell him, although you’re not sure why.

He hums, kisses the top of your head, and eventually pulls away. His touch lingers. Imprints of his fingertips, his kisses, burn into you and you’re unsure now more than ever if you’re misreading this whole thing because he’s never been this affectionate before. Then you have to remind yourself again that a lot of time has passed and people change. He’s just being friendly, you think. Staying friends is what you need to focus on. Not the hammering of your heart or ringing in your ears whenever you look at him.

Itching for some composure, you find an AA meeting. A quick Google search reveals the local groups and as luck would have it, one is about to meet.

You throw your car keys at the metal-head and ask him to collect you in about an hour. He nods in agreement and your friends walk you to the door of the building. No one asks about it, which you’re grateful for because how would you even explain to someone who’s not an alcoholic why you suddenly need a meeting.

Inside, the chairs are lined in a circle. Different from your group in Vegas where they face the podium, but then again this is a small town and everyone knows each other anyway.

You’re not nervous as you sit and you don’t feel any sort of way when people start gathering, nodding in your direction to acknowledge this newcomer.

One by one, they speak. Share stories from their day, week, month. Experiences and turbulence. Mention people, faces. Reason why they may have wanted to reach for the bottle and clarify why they didn’t, in the end. An elderly lady fought with her daughter. A new dad is battling sleepless nights and the feeling of helplessness. Someone lost their job. Someone else got a new job. Life happens for these people — for you — and it makes hard liquid appealing. To elevate, to numb.

When it’s your turn to share, you wipe the palms of your hands on your linen trousers and crack your neck.

“My ex-boyfriend gave me my first drink. He died. Unrelated, but at the same time, not really,” you begin, a timid smile circling your lips as you speak, “I found out recently he was cheating. I mean, I had my suspicions but never had any eyewitnesses to corroborate the rumours, so I continued to walk in my relationship with rose-coloured glasses. Finding out the guy I uh, loved, was indeed a lying scumbag is a tough pill to swallow. It sucks, you know? I drank myself to sleep every night after his funeral and now I can’t help but wonder if I found out back then, whether I would’ve cared so much to mask the pain of his death. Or whether I’d just grieve like any other normal girlfriend would — crying, with friends and family by my side.”

“Grief isn’t linear,” someone points out. “Neither is sobriety.”

You bop your head in agreement. “There’s just the issue of the person who told me. The one that caught my ex. The one I can’t stop thinking about today, yesterday, the last few years. He’s been there for me, then he wasn’t, and now he is again. Seemingly. I don’t know. I’m a little confused about the whole thing and this feeling of uncertainty makes me itch.”

Once the hour is up, you saunter back into the afternoon sunshine. Eddie’s waiting for you, as instructed. He’s leaning against the side of your Jeep and smiles when he sees you. Small, happy. He hugs you briefly before opening the passenger door. You don’t protest by telling him it’s your car therefore you can drive back, instead you watch him jog around the front and hop in, starting the engine.

For the first few minutes, it’s quiet.

“How was it?” Eddie asks, eyes darting to you briefly, then back on the road ahead.

“Good,” you answer plainly since there’s not much else to say about AA.

He hums a note of understanding and keeps driving. Momentarily, it’s quiet again.

“Do you think you would’ve gotten sober if you stayed?”

You tilt your head in his direction.

“I don’t know.” Honest. You want to leave this topic there, but you can see the wheels inside his mind are spinning. He’ll never say, out of respect for your journey, but he wants to know more. “Probably not. Hawkins reminded me too much of Billy, that’s why I drank in the first place.”

The metal-head notes the use of past tense, but doesn’t point it out.

“Have you ever taken an ice-cold shower?” You wonder.

Eddie’s curious eyes meet yours as he pulls up to a red light. “On purpose?”

You nod.

“God no.”

The borderline disgust in his voice, at such a trivial thing, makes you stifle a laugh. You turn to look at the road ahead and an idea pops into your mind — because it’s the only way you know how to explain what sobriety feels like for you.

“Take a left at the next light,” you instruct.

Eddie does as you say. He proceeds to follow your directions, off the main road, avoiding potholes and fallen tree branches. He drives down the windy road, through the woods, until the car comes up on a clear. A parking lot, of sorts. Except there’s no other cars around.

After the metal-head cuts the engine, you tell him to follow and he does, still without protest or question why. You lead him down the bushy slope, drop from grass to pebbles in the least ladylike fashion and hear him say: “Mind your step, angel.”. Your cheeks burn instantly. 

Once you reach the water, Eddie not far behind, you stop. There’s a tree straddling the lake’s edge. Large roots, weeping branches, fine lines on the bark that tell stories older than anyone could even begin to comprehend. A hole in the leaves above makes it the only tree illuminated by sunshine. The edge of the water near it glistens with tiny dancing fairies. A sight to behold, you think.

“Wow,” the metal-head breathes. “How do you know about this place?”

“Robin,” you answer him, “She told me she came here the first night. Said it was a good place to clear one's head.”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth twitches upwards as he takes in the view. This small, secluded lake. Barely seen by the sky. Known to a few, now to him — thanks to you. A girl that’s been in his orbit seemingly forever, yet a mystery all the same.

He doesn’t get to ask why you brought him here because the answer starts to reveal itself when suddenly, you’re stripping off your clothes.

“Shit,” he exhales sharply, snapping his head in the direction of the forest behind. “What are you doing, angel?”

“What does it look like?”

There’s a playfulness to your tone that makes Eddie’s pulse pop. He relishes in the sound, heart strumming like a well-tuned guitar, blood rushing to all the wrong places, (or maybe the right ones). And so the metal-head joins, standing now at the edge of the water in nothing but his boxers and various metal chains. He’s still not looking at you, however. He doesn’t — a gentleman — until he hears a splash and his name being called.

“Come on, hot shot!”

Surrounded by the lake and shadow of the trees, Eddie can barely see you. He follows nonetheless, one foot in front of the other.

The water is unwelcoming. Frigid, crisp. Numbing to the skin. He winces as he glides towards you and the closer he gets, the wider your smile grows.

“Is this some sort of test?” He shouts across.

You giggle and ask loudly, “How do you feel?”

“Oddly, like I’m on fucking fire.” Eddie replies, his voice growing quieter as he stops a mere foot away.

After an inhale of a single breath, you nod.

“This is why I stop myself from drinking.”

Eddie’s brow shoots up. “So you can dunk yourself in freezing cold water?” He asks, bewildered.

“So I can feel alive while doing it.”

His insides contort at your words. There’s something raw about your admission. Like you’ve just exposed a certain part of yourself that you haven’t shown anyone prior to right now. The metal-head has the sudden urge to reach for you, hug you. He wants to shield you from your own demons, your own pain. Protect you from bad memories and bad habits, and take back every single horrible thing he’s ever said to you. Eddie wants to go back in time, to the night of Chrissy’s party, and tell his past self to give you more grace because he finally realises your actions weren’t specifically to hurt him. You were just numb.

“Do you trust me?” You ask, breaking him away from his thoughts.

After he nods, your arms weave around his neck as your legs kick together under the surface, barely brushing. You instruct him to hold his breath and counting down from three, you pull him along, heads underwater.

Panic attacks his nervous system then dissipates just as fast. He can feel everything. Every cell in his body, every muscle. The blood pumping in his veins, the steady stream of energy flowing from his head to his toes. 

And the metal-head can feel you too. In the darkness of the water, his fingertips work the outline of your body. Memorising each dent and curve, each crease and how they all connect to create the perfect shape. 

When your legs wind around his waist, bringing you two chest to chest, Eddie can feel the push and pull of your working lungs. He can no longer hold his breath, a thought crossing his mind: this is the closest he’s ever been with anyone, even physically. Sex doesn’t compare to what he’s after experiencing, although he allows himself to wonder if with you, even that act would be otherworldly.

“Are you alright?” You ask, coming afloat.

“Yeah,” he breathes.

The slight shake of his head sends his locks on a journey, droplets falling from each end and gently splashing against your face. You don’t move. Remain firm with your hands and legs wrapped tightly around the brunette, afraid to let this moment slip — because once you’re back ashore, there’s no safety of deep waters to harbour deep feelings.

Eddie doesn’t intend to move either. His brown gaze latches onto yours again as his fingers continue to dig into your flesh under the confines of the ripples. He’s no longer cold. Hasn’t been for a while. The water has transformed from frostbite to sauna and all it took was a heavy admission, plus your body pressed against his.

There’s a split-second, a breath, an impulse, during which Eddie wants nothing more but to dip his head and kiss you. Hard. Like he’s dreamed of doing for as long as he can remember. Like he should have last night until he chickened out at the last moment — since, at the end of the day, he’s mostly been the opposite of confident when it comes to acting on his feelings towards you.

So instead, Eddie smiles.

“I’m still not going to take cold showers.”

You laugh. “Don’t worry, hot shot, I won’t ever make you do this again.”

“That’s not what I said, angel.” The metal-head points out after shaking his head. “This, I’m actually enjoying.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Then he clears his throat, grin fading to something softer. “I appreciate you bringing me here. I can imagine this wasn’t easy, opening yourself up like this.”

You shrug in his arms.

“It’s different when it’s you,” you admit, voice almost a whisper, while dropping your gaze to his mouth. 

It’s brief, this slip, but Eddie catches the motion of your eyes instantly. By design of some higher power, his grip on you tightens in that moment. His internal turmoil subsides, if only for a moment long enough to do this:

“Fuck, baby.”

And just like that, Eddie’s lips are on yours.

You don’t hesitate to kiss him back. Mouth instantly parting as his nails dig into your sides. He tastes of heaven — disguised by tar from the Lucky Strikes he smokes and the minty aftertaste of blue-packet Mentos. A whole new meaning to the word: intoxicating.

The tips of your fingers tangle themselves in his dark-brown curls, tugging gently with every tilt of your heads. Tongues dancing together, fighting to obtain dominance although you know it’s pointless because the longer Eddie is kissing you, the more you know he’s got all the power and you feel elated.

An explosion of emotions. Love, lust, hurt, betrayal, forgiveness, friendship. They’re all there, swimming together with you and the metal-head. They fuel the kiss further, deepening the intensity. He bites your bottom lip, hands trailing up your bare back until they reach the strap of your bra. That’s when he pulls away. 

“Holy shit,” you breath, heart beating like it’s on a rampage and Eddie’s only matches the tempo.

“Holy shit,” he repeats.

For a moment, you float. Continuously holding onto one another as the sun moves away and the implication of what you just did dawns.

Eddie has the same thought. He hates that it’s the first one after such a magnificent performance, but he can’t help himself. He’s wanted this — you — for as long as he can remember and now that you’re in his arms, now that you kissed him back, he wonders if it’s all too good to be true. He reasons that the worry is warranted because when tomorrow ends, you’ll be on your way back to Vegas and he’ll be licking his wounds once more, waiting for you to change your mind and come back.

The irrational part of him however, wants to taste your lips again. That’s the part that wins.

This kiss is softer. He’s then trailing along your cheek, the tip of your nose. His hands move to cup your face and he forces your eyes closed with his thumbs, then pecks each of your eyelids. He’s committing your features to memory and you shiver under his delicate touch.

Whenever you silently swim back to shore, Eddie’s lips are on yours for the third time. Smiling against his parted mouth, you try to tell him that you two should talk about this, that only a few hours ago you both agreed your communication can be lacking, but he brushes you off. One hand splayed on the small of your wet back, the other holding your jaw, he’s insisting to continue grazing your lips until they’re chapped.

“Tomorrow,” he mutters in between catching his breath, “Tomorrow, before we say goodbye, we can talk about what this means. In the meantime, please let me enjoy you, angel.”

And you don’t argue. Only nod at his request and let him kiss you all the way back to the car. Pushing you up against every other tree, then the bumper of your Jeep, nothing but hunger in his mahogany gaze.

It’s really quite the miracle you get dressed. Breathless and dizzy, reddened lips. Eddie watches you (pretends he’s not) pull the cotton t-shirt over your bra, also concealing the red guitar pick around your neck, and something in him twitches. An urge to rip it back off you and throw you in the backseat. He has to remind himself of your group of friends who are probably wondering what’s taking this long.

The metal-head kisses you once more after helping you into the car. A peck. Short and sweet. Then he drives. Back down the windy trail, through the forest, and out onto the main road. He does so in silence, but it’s different than any quiet you’ve shared before. Filled with a certain four letter word.

Your phone rings. Connected to the sound system of your car, the speakers vibrate as Jax’s name illuminates on the Apple CarPlay. You don’t think when you answer.

“Hey there, lonesome soul.” His voice is chipper, as usual.

Eddie shoots you a glance and mouths ‘lonesome soul’ like a question and you wave your hand to signal you’ll tell him that story later.

“How’s your weekend going?”

“Good.” Then a smile circles your lips. “Great, actually.”

On the other end of the line, you can hear Jax chuckle. “I take it that friendships have been mended.”

“Something like that,” you say and briefly meet Eddie’s eyes. The brunette smirks, licking his lips.

“That’s good, Miss Lonesome.” You can hear the clacking of dishes and you think of the time difference, then of his habit to sleep in at the weekends, and think he must be making a late breakfast.

“Listen, confirming that you still need me to fly out, meet you in Fort Wayne for the trip back home. I know you hate flying alone.”

Home. That word makes Eddie tighten his grip on the steering wheel. Knuckles whitening. He acts before he can change his own mind and presses the mute button.

“Say no.” The metal-head tells you.

You arch a brow. “What?”

“I’ll fly with you. Tell him no.”

A certain sense of satisfaction washes over you as you nod at the metal-head, then unmute.

“I’m glad you called to check,” you begin, “But plans have changed, so you can stay in cosy ol’ Vegas. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, okay.” Jax says, mid bite of something. “I am glad to hear that ‘cause I did say yes to this date, completely forgetting about you. Not intentionally, of course. I’d never intentionally forget about you, lonesome.” He’s babbling and you playfully roll your eyes, even though he can’t see.

“Bye, Jax.” You call out to the speaker, “I’ll see you soon.”

When the call ends, you sit back and tilt your head to look at the metal-head.

“What about your radio show?”

“What about it?” He asks, staring at the road ahead.

You suppress a smile. “Are you sure Dustin is up for covering a couple more slots? Not to mention all of the widows and wives trapped in loveless marriages waiting to hear you on the other end of their radio’s, how will they ever survive?”

Eddie snorts a laugh. “Good one, angel.”

He turns into the driveway, the beautiful lake house coming into view. He parks the Jeep next to his own, more beat-up vehicle, and cuts the engine. As the buzzing of the car dies down, with a hand on the door handle, Eddie turns to you.

“It’ll be fun, no? Give us more time to, I don’t know, catch up.”

“Catch up, huh?”

He smirks. “Among other things, if you’d like?”

You lean across the gear shift knob and kiss him earnestly, as pleased as Punch. 

Steve asked you the other day if you were ‘happy’, you told him yes. Now, sitting here with Eddie, following the afternoon you just spent together, you weren’t so sure if what you’ve been feeling this whole time was indeed happiness. Comfort maybe, disguised as elation, because you had built yourself a good life in Las Vegas. A college course you are passionate about, a job that keeps you busy and pays quite well, new friends who keep your mind and timetable full. None of that seems to matter when Eddie’s lips touch yours. None of that equates being happy.

“Eddie—” You mutter against his mouth.

“Mhm…”

“We should talk earlier than tomorrow.”

The metal-head sighs and pulls away. Then he nods, one long drop, because he doesn’t seem to have any other option. 

Rationally, Eddie knows talking this through is the right thing to do. A lot has happened since your arrival and even more since your late-night conversation last night. A lot changed: especially  feelings, unspoken or otherwise. The kiss(es), plural. Eddie knows talking about what it all means going forward is the right thing to do. He knows and he desperately doesn’t want to do it.

What if you tell him he’s misread the situation and you’re not interested in him like that? He could barely handle it once. A second time and he might just land in bed with one of those lonely middle-aged women that are always chasing him around town — a desperate attempt to forget you after finally having a taste.

What if you tell him you like him too? That’s a whole other can of worms. Can you do long distance? He for sure can’t. He hasn’t seen you for over three years, he can’t handle not being able to see you for a minute longer. However, which one of you is ready to uproot their lives? He presumes the answer is neither.

The questions pile up in his brain and Eddie knows he should get the answers.

“Later?” He proposes, “Today, but later.”

And later it has to be since the metal-head hops out of the car before you get a chance to respond. He helps you next, always the gentleman, and follows you to the front door without saying another word on the matter.

Luckily, your friends don’t question where the two of you have been. Nancy offers some food, considering you’ve missed dinner, so you and Eddie eat outside, watching the rest of them play cards. 

Rummy is their game of choice, although they’re all quite shit and the Vegas girl in you can’t help but make fun of their lame attempts. You offer some tips and even help Robin cheat a couple of times, which gets a rise out of Steve and he makes you “help” him next.

The sun has long set. Jonathan lights some candles while Robin jokes how she didn’t peg him for an ambiance guy. He flips her off. Subtle, but it makes everyone else giggle. Argyle and Steve sneak off to share a joint down by the water, they ask Eddie to join but the metal-head just shakes his head. You wonder if that’s got anything to do with you, but you don’t ask. Instead, you press into his side, arm to arm, and place your head gently on his shoulder.

Robin is eyeing the sight from across the table. She winks in your direction then mouths, “I told you so.”, and you’re in half-a-mind to flip her off too as blood rushes to your face, cheeks burning hot.

Once everyone else has had a few drinks, Rummy becomes even more difficult to grasp and gets exchanged for Uno. Rulebook aside, because you’ve all played by your own ever since you can remember, Nancy deals the first hand. Steve and Argyle return in a fit of joy. They say they won’t play, just observe, so Nancy reshuffles as you whisper to Eddie that he should keep his eyes on his own deck. He nudges your side, a smirk circling his perfect face.

This is the beginning, you let yourself think.

As the game continues, you slip into a momentary feeling of peace. That should have been your first clue of what’s to come next since good things never last. But you ignore the vibrations coming from your phone and they keep piling on. 

Voice notes.

Earlier that morning, on her way out the door, Chrissy Cunnigham spots you on the couch, cuddling in your sleep with her ex-boyfriend. You, the girl she always worried about, despite Eddie’s insistent stance on the matter. The sight before her pale-blue eyes fuels Chrissy’s rage and she decides the highroad isn’t something worth taking.

Received to your old Instagram account, a clear-headed Chrissy Cunningham spills her sorrows into the microphone and shares them with you. The message is clear. Eddie Munson is not who he says he is.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

@ali-r3n @thelazyarchangel @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @peculiarwren @fxoxo @losingmygrasponreality @kellsck @sp1dyb0y1008 @mmmunson @somethingvicked @darknesseddiem @scream4mami @pineapplechuncks @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @emxxblog @bl0ssomanddie @theladyhellfire @gracelouiseoneill @emquinn94 @transparent-enemy @rach5ive @knew-better-forever-girl-two @lemonmarquee @mossgh0st @probablyin-bed @dustbowleddie @residentoftomlinsonsass @heart-eyed-love @munsonburn3r @helsa3942 @althaiareads @theladyhellfire @v1per1ne @sugarplumsweetiepie @rizzraa @micheledawn1975 @gracelouiseoneill @moremaple @bigpoppascherry @jeangeniex @daisy-munson @ceeezy @kissmyacdc @cyressluvy @mango-slush-boba @iyskgd

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

New Friend (Bob Reynolds x Reader)  

word count: 1k

part 2 of ?

previous part: part one

masterlist

Bob decides to text you that night. After all, if he wants to form more friendships, he should probably reach out to you. So after a quick discussion with Yelena of what he should text you, he sends you a message. 

Hi, it’s Bob from book club :) 

“Okay, now you have to put the phone down and don’t check it until it dings,” Yelena plugs the phone back in.

“Why can’t I just wait?” Bob asks.

“Oh, Bob, we all do this. We stare at the phone and we reload the page, or we open and close the app or phone, and we wait and we wait for a reply that doesn’t come, and then we get sad and then—” Yelena is cut off by the phone dinging. Bob glances at the phone then back up at Yelena, who shrugs. You texted him back.

Hey Bob, good to hear from you!

“What…what do I say next?” Bob questions aloud. 

“Oh, c’mere,” Yelena picks up the phone, types a message, and sends. 

“Wha…? Yelena,” Bob complains. 

“It’s going to work,” Yelena assures with a nod. 

Bob picks up the phone to read the text that Yelena had sent from him to you. 

Yeah! Really liked book club so far. Have you read any other good books later?

Bob looks back up at Yelena. “How is this good?” Yelena shrugs. You respond a moment later. 

Totally! I just finished The Midnight Library. Kind of heartbreaking but hopeful, you know?

Bob stares at the message. “What do I say to that? I haven’t read that one.”

Yelena, arms crossed, suggests, “Say you haven’t read it, but you’d like to. Because you’d like to talk to her more. That’s how books work, right? Brains… talking.”

“…I guess?”

He types, deletes, retypes, and finally sends:

I haven’t read that one. Should I? I trust your taste.

Yelena whistles. “Smooth, Bob. You’re learning.”

The next text comes. 

Definitely! I have a copy if you want to borrow it :)

Bob reads that line four times.

“She wants to lend me a book,” he whispers. “That’s…a good sign, right?”

Yelena nods like it’s obvious. “Next step: hangout. Suggest a time. Offer snacks. Everyone likes snacks.”

He hesitates, then types:

That would be great. Maybe I could bring coffee or something and we could read together?

“I like it! Everybody loves coffee!” Yelena cheers. 

Alexei pokes his head in through the door. “Are we making coffee or…?”

“No, Dad, it’s six pm. No coffee. I’m helping Bob right now,” Yelena informs, and Alexei nods and leaves. 

Your text arrives a second later. 

I would love that!

“Good, good. Come up with a time and a place. Go to the bookstore, you know she goes to the bookstore,” Yelena suggests, leaning over Bob’s shoulder to read the text conversation and what he types as he types it. 

Bob nods, and begins wording his reply back to you.

Can we meet at the bookstore café?

A moment. Then your answer.

Yeah! Tomorrow afternoon good?

Bob grins. Definitely, yes. 

“I’m so proud of you, Bob!” Yelena cheers and wraps her arms around him, hugging him so tightly that Bob feels like he might just die. But it’s nice, coming from Yelena. She’s awesome. 

You two meet at a quiet corner table in the bookstore café the next afternoon. Bob shows up ten minutes early, already rereading the text thread like a study guide. He brings a small notebook, pens, and his phone—just in case.

When you arrive, he stands too quickly and knocks over a chair. But you laugh instead of flinching. That helps.

“It’s good to see you again!” you smile. You hand him the book. 

“Oh, thanks,” Bob replies softly, happy but really, really nervous. 

You sit, read, and talk a little between chapters. There’s a gentle peace about it. Bob doesn’t feel the Void tugging at the edges of his mind. Not here.

When you have to go home, you give him a side hug. After all, you’ve only recently met him. But it makes butterflies dance in Bob’s stomach. And it definitely doesn’t help that he’s got Can’t Touch This stuck in his head. Why are the butterflies dancing in sync…?

When he gets home, Bob finds Yelena already waiting with Alexei, both sipping tea suspiciously.

“I thought that was a British thing,” Bob says, putting his tote bag down on the ground next to him. 

“It’s a me thing now,” Yelena informs. 

“Oh, okay.”

“So…?” Yelena prods with an excited smile. 

“It was nice,” Bob nods, smiling a little. “It was nice.”

“Would you care to elaborate, share some more details with us maybe?” Alexei asks hopefully. 

Yelena cocks her head, then leans toward Alexei’s cup and smells it. “That’s not tea, that’s alcohol!”

“IT IS A LIQUID EITHER WAY.”

Bob laughs—a real laugh, full and warm, the kind that surprises even him. Yelena grins, victorious. Alexei shrugs and takes another sip of “tea.”

“I think we’re going to hang out again soon,” Bob admits, settling into the armchair. “She lent me a book. We read together. It was… really peaceful.”

“That’s so wholesome I could cry,” Yelena wipes an invisible tear, then immediately grabs Bob’s arm. “You like her, don’t you?”

Bob looks down at the cover of The Midnight Library. “I think I could,” he says honestly.

Alexei leans back in his chair. “Just don’t mess it up. Or bring shame to our coffee.”

Yelena rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He once tried to impress a girl by deadlifting a vending machine.”

“It worked,” Alexei mutters.

Bob clutches the book closer to his chest, smiling softly to himself.

He doesn’t know exactly what this is—what it could become—but for once, the unknown doesn’t feel terrifying.

Bob feels now like he’s opening up a new chapter in his life, one that seems to involve reading a lot of chapters in books from you.

taglist

@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13 @wpdarlingpan @puer-aurea

just thunderbolts/bob

@papitas-con-sal @yesshewrites1

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"We can come back for the rest," Sy assures as he lifts the suitcase into the bed of his truck. "This should do for the night."

You stand beside the truck. You twist to look at the house. You've always lived there; so long that you never imagined leaving. Yet, after what happened to your father, you can't fathom staying. Still, what lays ahead is just as scary.

"Come on then," Sy shuts the door of the truck bed. "It's gon' be dark soon. We should get home."

He urges you around to the passenger's side. He opens the door. You look at him then the seat. You frown.

You turn and grab the interior of the door. Your eyes widen as his large hand boosts you up from behind. He chuckles and quickly recoils.

"Ah, sorry, darlin', promise I wasn't gettin' handsy."

You sit heavily and stare ahead. He does that. He touches you. He never asks.

"You okay?" He asks as he lingers. You shrug and look at your knees. You slowly pull the seat belt across your body.

He shuts the door then marches around the hood and climbs into the driver's seat. The truck axle lurches with his weight. He buckles up the seat belt and flips the engine. It rumbles noisily and he shifts into gear.

You crane to stare at the house as he drives away. Your heart sinks as it fades into the grim horizon. Even though he promises you'll be back, you know it won't be for good. The life you knew there is over, yet what is there to miss about it? What about the one ahead of you? Will it really be any better?

"You're tired. Well, I got some new sheets just for ya," Sy says. "And some tea. You can just relax."

You shift and lean into the door. You stare through the window. He rolls along the country roads, just along the edge of the town centre, and you watch the crops blow and the trees sway. The air feels like sludge around you. The world is not real to you. Not yet.

He pulls up to a farmhouse. It's in much better shape than your dad's. The siding must've been painted recently and the roof doesn't have shingles peeling off. There's a garage to one side with four doors, almost as big as the house. Sy cranks into park and turns the truck off.

"Home sweet home," he declares.

He looks at you. You don't react. He clicks his tongue and taps the steering wheel. He undoes his seat belt and hops out. The descent is nothing to a man his size.

He circles around and opens your door. You reluctantly unbuckle the seat belt. He keeps his hand on your arm as he helps you down.

You shrug away from him and he peers around. He puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles. You cover your ears at the sharp noise. He waits and you look around in confusion.

It's then that you notice the flap in the lower half of the front door. A dark snout pokes through as a dog pushes the flap out. The german shepherd prances happily across the porch and down the steps. Sy greets her with an extended hand.

"There y'are, Aika," he scratches her head. "Told ya I'd be comin' back. Did ole Walt come and feed ya?" The dog hops up on her back legs and hops, trying to get higher as she dances. He gently urges her down as he chuckles. "Good girl."

She pants happily and her nose twitches. She turns to you and sniffs your hand. Your eyes round. She's a big dog.

"Aika's a nice girl," Sy assures as he trods around the truck bed and opens it with a loud creak. "She's happy to have ya."

She licks your fingers as you freeze up. Your dad never let you have animals. He didn't like dogs and told you how one nearly took off his ear as a boy.

"You can pet her," Sy suggests as he approaches once more. "She only bites who I tell her to."

You look at him and bring your hands up to clutch over your chest.

"I'm kidding. Didn't mean to scare ya," he says. "Aika, inside."

The dog obeys. You watch her bushy tail as she runs back to the porch, her claws tapping on the wooden steps. Sy nudges your arm gently.

"She's good to have around. 'Specially at night. There's all sorts of wild critters out in the woods."

You peer out at the cluster of trees. There were some possums around your dad's place but nothing too worrisome. Mostly field mice trying to eat through the garbage bags.

You head toward the house. You don't have much of a choice. You never have, yet it feels all the more oppressive now.

Sy opens the front door and lets you in ahead of him. The entryway is nice and tidy. There's a bouquet of sunflowers on the side table next to a coat rack and the shoe mat. You turn and examine the mostly bare walls.

"You got a lady's eye. I figure you could help liven up the place. Maybe hang some of them pictures you make. Something right here," he frames a part of the wall with his hands.

You nod. Whatever he wants. That's the way life is. It's how it's always been, it's just with someone new now.

The dog sits in a bed in the corner of the front room. You peer around, feeling lost, feet treading along without direction. This place is nice but strange.

"You tell me if I missed anything," he says.

You stop in the middle of the front room. This can't be done overnight. This takes time. He claims it's all for you, but is that true? If it is, how long was he planning this? Was it all planned? Hurting your dad, lying to the police...

"Is it alright?" He sounds almost nervous.

You look at him. You just feel small. And tired.

"You hungry? We didn't have dinner yet."

You shake your head. His brow furrows.

"How about I show ya the bedroom? You can get settled."

You walk forward. He waits until you're in the hallway then he leads you toward the back of the house. Opposite the kitchen, there's the bedroom. It's spacious and done up as nicely as the rest of the house. He must have had some help... right? You couldn't do all this.

The bed is made up with floral sheets and a thick coverlet. And the lamps on either side look like drooping tulips. He slips in past you as you stand just inside the door. He opens the sliding doors to reveal a closet.

"Found some nice stuff. I don't know too much about clothes but..." he takes out a dress. The lavender farm dress is pretty; a drawstring waist and little eyelet patterns around the collar. You nod. "Something to sleep in..."

He turns and puts the hanger back and takes out another. The white nightgown is shorter than the dress. And has only straps. He brings it to you. "All your intimates in the dresser. I'll bring your bag in for you to unpack what you brung."

You take the nightie. He leaves you and you examine the cotton. You shiver as you look around the room. Home? You guess.

He comes back with your bag and leaves it on the bench at the foot of the bed. He goes and you change into the nightgown. It's fresher than the linen pants and dusty tee. You put your clothes on top of the bag. You'll deal with it later.

You climb into the bed and hide under the blankets. You curl up and close your eyes. You push yourself away from this place, away from this reality. You just want to stop being, stop thinking for a little bit longer.

🌼

A coolness spreads over your back and just as quickly, dissipates. A warmth swirls around you, pluming beneath the fresh linens. Your eyes roll back and forth beneath their lids as you slowly wade up from the grey. There's a tickle along your side.

"Sugar, you okay?" Sy's deep timbre weaves tension through you. "Hey, you awake?"

He squeezes your side and you roll onto your back, poking your elbow into his chest to keep him away. You look at him sharply. It's dark, you can barely make out his silhouette. He lowers himself down to his side.

"Just wanna make sure you're alright. You been quiet." He drawls.

You tut and roll over again, keeping your back to him. He huffs and you lay rigid, waiting for him to touch you again. He doesn't.

You close your eyes. You listen to his breathing. He fidgets for a while, tossing and turning. Eventually, he begins to snore and you're reassured by the steady tempo.

You're tired enough to doze. You float in and out of consciousness. Each time you wake, the wall is a bit lighter. When the birds begin to sing, you're kept awake by their ceaseless tweeting.

You lay on your back as the morning hues light the plaster. You shiver as you feel something crawl up your thigh and onto the fabric of your nightgown. Sy spreads his hand over your stomach and shimmies closer.

"Morning," he grumbles.

You blink at him. His eyes are sleepy as he blinks and his beard has shanks jutting out. Your eyes follow the thick tendons of his neck down to his bare shoulders and chest above the blankets. He moves even closer and you realise he doesn't have much on.

"I like waking up next to you," he pets your stomach through the fabric.

You clasp onto his wrist and shake your head.

"I'm not gonna go too fast. I'm just... getting a feel of ya. Let you get a feel of me, too."

He twists his hand around and catches yours. He yanks on your arm. You're not strong enough to resist. He presses your palm to his furry chest. Your eyes round and your brows arch.

"Not so bad," he pushes your fingers into his firm flesh. 

You shake your head and try to sit up. He won't let go.

"Relax," he insists and slides his hand up your arm. He pushes you back down. "I know you heard me. We're gonna get married so we go get used to each other."

You shake your head again.

"Now, I know it's new for you," he wraps his arm around you and traps you against him, "but you gotta try."

You pout and lean away from him, pushing on his chest.

"You needa think. No one else is gonna take care of you. No one else ever said nothing to your daddy. Only me," his voice darkens. "The least you can do is let me hold ya."

You wriggle against him. Panic stirs in your chest and tingles behind your eyes. His heat is overwhelming, his strength too. All this touching is too much.

"Not like I'm tryna do more," he growls and squeezes you until your arms collapse. He curls his arms around you, holding you flush to him.

You heart pounds. More? You're not stupid. Maybe inexperienced. He will eventually. Especially if he's talking about marriage.

"You're nice and warm and soft," he keeps you locked in his arms. He rests his chin against your hair. "And you smell sweet." Your lip trembles as his hand grazes down the back of your nightgown. He gropes your bottom and you twitch. "Just touching. Just a little." He purrs. "You got a nice figure, you know? You're built well."

You close your eyes and shudder. You couldn't move, even if he didn't have you trapped.

"I think you'll like me too, sugar," he rasps. "You know, you can touch. I don't mind. Get to know me." He hums into your hair and inhales your scent. "I know I'm your first and only man, so I'll be gentle. Long as you're gentle with me."

[cyree]

answering the age old question of why i hate pesos mother 🤑 (this is also an excuse to yap about the great penguin race)

i made a video on this but it’ll take fifty years to upload so i’m just re typing it and i shortened the great penguin race to tgpr bc i am not typing allat 😭🙏

yes this is me losing it over fucking octonauts i am very normal about a certain episode ahah

okay so first this isn’t some random ass beef i came up with i have many reasons #d1hater

number one:

assuming you have watched tgpr then you know that peso did NOT sign up it was his mother and pinto who did.

why?? why did they have to go behind his back to do it?? why didn’t they ask peso about this??

like brother you are signing up your kid for the PENGUIN OLYMPICS and you don’t get his input?? did she just not gaf about how her son would feel about this 😭

neither pinto nor his mother gave a flying fugly fart about if peso would wanna participate which is odd considering HES THE ONE PARTICIPATING and considering this doesn’t seem like something peso would want to do.

number two:

okay so maybe i could get past that but no pinto and his mother just had to go and surprise peso with ts???

BROTHER WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SURPRISE??? THE ONLY SURPRISE IS HOW HE DIDNT CRASH OUT PESO IS BETTER THAN ME GOODNESS GRACIOUS

so not only do they surprise him they do it HOURS before the race starts.

so pesos mother wants to send him into a race he is not prepared for, very OBVIOUSLY doesn’t want to do and that he had no say in.

not only is lil broseph going up against the REIGNING CHAMPION with little to no training but pinto and his mother want peso to win??

listen you guys i fucking love peso but he stood absolutely zero chance against hugo lets be honest

number three:

why is she going along with pintos stupid plan because this bs is a disaster waiting to happen and anyone with a working brain knows that pintos idea is astronomically stupid

now pinto has some excuse since his brain probably isn’t even halfway developed but his mum?? a grown ass woman?? how the fuck did you hear this and think “hell yeah lets do this!” like??? are you insane?? lacking braincells?? diseased?? idk anymore

number four:

okay so like i said earlier pesos mum really doesn’t seem to gaf about pesos feelings like at all and theres one scene that really pmo.

shockingly the first event goes horribly for peso since hes extremely unprepared and so he lands in that bigass pile of snow so pinto and his mum run over

and you might think “oh is she gonna comfort peso?”

no.

no comfort, no “you did great” all she says is

“peso you’ll catch a cold”

YOU LIVE IN THE SNOW?? THATS IS THE LAST THING THAT SHOULD BE ON YOUR MIND ARE YOU DUMB????????

then she says nothing else and walks away not even a “good luck” like girl do you have any sort of empathy for your kid?

number five:

ok this is more yapping about the race itself but it ties into my point.

so i cannot be the only one who thinks this race is like extremely dangerous not in the extreme sports way but in the extreme lack of safety precautions

some examples include multiple animals in the water where the swimming races take place, its because that there’s other animals that peso and hugo get stuck under the ice

now this is not me blaming pesos mother for them getting trapped because no one saw it coming but you would think shed put more thought into sending her child into the olympics yk

also there are literally predators in the water LIKE THERES AN ORCA THEY EAT PENGUINS ITS IN AN EPISODE IN ABOVE AND BEYOND RIGHT??? LIKE I SWEAR THERES ONE WHERE PESO AND PINTO ALMOST GET EATEN BY ORCAS??

heres the aforementioned orca btw

also there is ZERO first aid or rescue teams at all like if the octonauts hadn’t been there to rescue peso and hugo they likely would’ve run out of air by the time a rescue team arrived

considering they watch the race every year pesos mum had to have known this and intentionally or not she put her son in danger because of her decisions.

conclusion:

i really dislike pesos mum due to her stupid decisions she made and her frankly concerning lack of consideration for her son’s feelings. considering we never see her again. there’s no real redeeming qualities for her for me, atleast.

okay yap sesh over sorry for the wall of text i’ve been waiting to talk about this

@hers-underwraps hope you don’t mind being tagged in this you seemed like you wanted to hear abt this 🤑

ok thanks tee hee

[adoresia]

— LIMERENCE ⋆ Kuroo Tetsuroo

(adj.) unseen, unnamed, shrouded in Veilance

It’s one thing to fall — harder still when you’re aching for a name, a face, or a ghost that writes in purple ink.

KUROO lay in his bed, arms folded behind his head while he stared at the ceiling — blurry through the darkness. It was way past midnight, the air was still and he could very vaguely hear the fan humming in the corner of his room. His phone contributed to the warmth he felt within this chest from one too many half finished texts. The glow from the notifications faded ages ago; leaving him alone with his thoughts, rustling louder than his sheets ever could.

He stares at the ceiling. The ceiling stares back, not because he’s thinking hard; because he doesn’t know where else to look. His phone’s already at 6% and the conversation paused in the middle of you telling him about some kid on her street who tried to race a squirrel. He’d laughed out loud. Wrote “You should’ve joined in you would’ve won.” in return and you sent back a voice note laughing.

He knew the sound of your laugh. Not your voice though, just your laugh. He always knows what books you’re reading. How much you hate school. What your playlists sound like. That you sleep with one sock on and complain about it being missing every morning. That you like when it rains but hate wet jeans. That your neighbor owns a bird that screams at 7am like it’s personally offended by the concept of peace.

He knows it all, but not your name. Not your face. Not the sweet hum of your voice.

His thoughts wander back to where he found you. A library! well technically just outside one. He was returning a chemistry textbook to the campus drop box, dragging his feet while half asleep when he noticed a sticky note wedged between the pages that he did not remember leaving in there. The handwriting was in a neat purple ink that read “Don’t be a cheater and look at the answers in the back, but hey who am I to stop you?” It caught him off guard. Made him laugh, actually. It wasn’t even funny.He brushed it off and returned the book anyway; thinking maybe someone was just bored and trying to be funny. A week later, on a whim he borrowed a copy of another chemistry book, for kenma. Inside of it was another note? “No answer key in this one. sorry in advance.” Same handwriting. Same corner of the page. It wasn’t even addressed to anyone… coincidence? After that he started checking every book he touched, as if they might be in the middle of some secret conversation.

The third one was tucked into a psychology text: “This one should have answers. They just raise more questions.” And then one day; wedged in the middle of a stats workbook was a number?No name, no pressure. Just a note reading “I doubt anyone’s actually keeping up with the notes I leave in some of these books… BUT! If you’re not a creep… text me? :3” He stared at his first for ten minutes before sending… “Depends. Do creeps return chemistry books on time?” You replied almost instantly : “you sound like more of a nerd than a creep.” He grinned at his phone screen.

Regardless of him having your number, you still passed notes for about a month. Book spines. Backs of receipts. One time on a folded up tea bag wrapper. But then you got tired of leaving silly little riddles in ripped up pieces of paper and you both texted more instead. You told him not to look you up; you liked the space you guys made. Like there was something nice about being known without being seen. And he didn’t question it.

Not at first. But now? Months later? it feels like he’s walking through fog toward a house that might not even be there. He wants to ask. To see; or maybe study you on a deeper level, but he’s scared his curiosity will ruin everything. Scared that knowing will make it less. That seeing will change the way it feels. Because right now you feel unreal in the best way. Funny; gentle; and weird and honest in ways most people aren’t when they’re in front of you. Like the distance gave you permission to be softer. Warmer.

He thinks he’s in love with you. And he hates that sentence. It sounds too big for something so undefined. So faceless. But it doesn’t feel fake. It’s in the way he looks forward to your messages. In the way your texts make his chest do that dumb flutter thing. In the way he can hear something and immediately think, you’d laugh at this.

It’s real.

It’s just… weird.

And he wishes it wasn’t.

He wants to be normal about it. Wants to say I like you and hear you actually say it back and go get coffee and learn your face like he’s been learning your heart. But you never give him more than what he already has. And maybe that’s the point. Maybe you don’t want to be known. Not like that. And he’ll keep pretending that’s okay. That what they have is enough. That knowing your favorite kind of sky is the same as knowing your smile.

He sighs and closes his eyes. phone buzzing once against his chest. Every notification he gets, he hopes it’s you. And if it isn’t? He’ll wait. He doesn’t mind waiting, not if it’s for you.

Dividers/banners by @.junabuggy :3

@livteracts stop guilt tripping me in my dms HERE IS YOUR TAG HERE IT IS IM SORRY OKAY I WAS GONNA TAG YOU ITS THE THIUGHT THAT COUNTS

[cock3tte]

missed you | satoru gojo

| taking a week off to fly to paris, only to come back to a horny gojo |

SONG PLAYED WHILE WRITING THIS (recommended? idk i played it on loop): LONELY STAR - THE WEEKND

my friend suggested i should post this so enjoy! also this is a small timelapse after the events of yuji eating sukuna's finger. ty for reading !

(friends with benefits!!)

WARNING: mature content

> SATORU !

behind all the overtime of slaughtering curses is a handsome pay that often makes people like yourself wonder if the higher-ups are just generous or if they just don't just want to be more short handed than they already are with staff

whatever the answer is, you're not complaining. and so, after weeks of planning and deciding, you chose to spoil yourself and go travel to paris for a week or so and it really made all those overtime hours worth it

once you returned back to tokyo, you sat down on the floor in your apartment with your suitcase in front of you, unloading all the items and souvenirs you brought for everyone in jujutsu tech. you were tired but not tired enough to consider it as jetlag

"let's see..." you murmur to yourself, counting the souvenirs you brought to make sure it was enough. you didn't want to leave paris empty handed so you may or may not have emptied out every shop in paris

an example of items you brought was a beautiful bow hair piece for utahime, a nice pair of glasses infused with cursed energy for maki, expensive cologne for nanam-

the doorbell rang across the hall, interrupting your train of thoughts as you got up to see who was the unexpected visitor

satoru was standing in front of you, a smirk on his face as his hands were in his pocket, staring at you through his blindfold. you looked at him up and down with an amused eyebrow raised and a smirk on your lips, crossiing your arms as you leaned on the side of the door. "you ran from the school to see me or what?" you joked, hinting how satoru came to see you with his uniform on.

and surprisingly, you hit the dot. "how'd you know?" he raised an eyebrow under his blindfold, his smirk widening a bit with a chuckle. you rolled your eyes as a response with a smile. "you came just in time, i brought souvenirs" you said before widening the door for him to come in

and satoru accepted the offer. "just in time" he said while walking inside your place before turning to face you with a small chuckle. "while you were out of japan, we had lots of shit happening"

after closing the door, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow out of curiosity. "like?" you asked, curious as to what unfolded when you were out of the country

your comment made satoru smirk as he walked closer and closer to you before whispering in your ear. "bedroom?” he whispered seductively, his voice sending familar shivers to your spine

it was all fun and games in paris and all but you missed satoru, missed the crazy nights you would have with him that would leave you paralyzed.

safe to say you were horny in paris and only satoru gojo himself could fix it

trying to hold your excitement, you rolled your eyes playfully with a smirk as you reached towards his blindfold and took a peak, meeting his blue eyes. "missed me that much?" you whispered softly to him

"very much" satoru muttered, his eyes now visibly going from your eyes to your lips. his hands go from his pocket to resting on your waist, his other hand on top of your hand, the same hand that was helping you take a peek of his eyes from his blindfold

"take it off" he whispered, barely managing to contain his lust. a whole week was hell and not even his hand helped his sore cock. he needed you, he desired you

slowly, you pulled off the blindfold and let it rest on his neck as you saw his eyes. normally, you would always think to yourself on how blue they always were, but these eyes were covered with hunger. they had lust written all over them

he really wasn't patient for you, wasnt he

immediately, he locked lips with you. he kissed you with hunger, like a man who hasn't eaten in days. his hand that was on top of yours immediately went to grab your waist, now being in his grasps

talking between kisses, he mumbled on your lips. "need you s'bad" and "god i missed you" were repeated as they made you more lust drink for him

you responded to him by giving him that same hunger kiss, arms wrapped around his neck as satoru let out a small moan. breaking the kiss, he picked you up and took you to your bedroom (which he already knew where) before dropping you onto the bed and crawling on top of you

where should satoru even begin? his mind was racing with thoughts on how to not just pleasure himself, but to also pleasure you

almost ripping your blouse off, he threw it across the room with no care and immediately dipping his head on your neck, sucking and kissing it with your hand on the back of his head, fingers slithering through his hair

letting a muffled groan out of desperation, his hand reached to intertwine with yours as he kept leaving trails of hickeys and kisses from your neck to your collarbone with your moans coming out as a reward

"how was paris?" satoru asked, his voice coming out muffled due to his lips not leaving your neck and it was hard to reply to him without cutting yourself with a moan

"was good, missed you though" you replied, making satoru chuckle. "oh did you?" he teased with a smile before leaning his head to your ear

"last week was the hardest week of my life" he whispered, his hand trailing down and down before his fingers were met with the waistband of your pants before slipping them under your pants. a moan came out from your lips, eyes half lidded from the arousal of pleasure forming between your legs

"there she is" satoru muttered, feeling your arousal from the tip of his fingers, the only thing blocking his fingers and your pussy was your panties, in which he gladly slid under

"needed that sweet cunt squeezin' my cock bad" he groaned, sliding a finger in you in which you moaned in response before he slid another finger in

his cock was about to rip through his pants from how tight you were around his fingers, making him let out a deep moan. "when will you never be this tight?" satoru whispered, curling his fingers deep in your oh-so needy pussy.

a week without you meant a week of satoru fucking his palm, which was hell because his palm can't be compared to your warm and tight cunt which satoru worships day and night

in general, he was going crazy all week

a whine of desperation came out from your lips, hips buckling onto his fingers as a sign for satoru to keep going

and when he did notice, he took his fingers out and that made you bite back a plead. he leaned closer from your actions, making him smile . "want you to cum on my cock first" he muttered before kissing you again, but more passionate as you bit his bottom lip, hands going under his shirt.

feeling his sculpted body under, you tug his shirt as a gesture which he knew immediately before taking it off and throwing it in the same direction as your blouse. taking your pants out as well and tossing it aside, satoru placed your bare legs and wrapped them around his waist. you were left with only your bra and panties on, which were drenched as satoru let out a small exhale, observing you with his blue eyes following your curves and body everywhere

no matter how many times he's seen you naked, he's always speechless

"made for me" he whispered before dipping his head to yours, one hand resting on the bottom of your head and the other skillfully unhooking your bra, revealing your breasts and your hardened nipples. "this body, this pussy, all made for me". he cupped one of your breasts with his free hand, making you arch your back with a moan following along. satoru's thumb brushed against your nipple before breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down to your chest

"never leave me like that again" he moaned, missing and craving your touch. all he could think of right now was to worship your body, worship you. his hand goes from the back of your head to your other breasts, fully cupping them. all you could do is simply moan with your arm draped on his back, clawing his back with your other hand simply on the back of his head

his kisses went lower and lower up to your pelvis, his hand going back between your legs and wrapping his index finger on the lace of your panties, taking them off

"let me ride you" you breathed out, looking at satoru with pleading eyes as it made him smirk before his hands went around your waist, slowly picking up your back from the mattress. instead, he leaned on the bedframe, his pants and smirk being the only thing he was wearing. "come here baby" he gestured with his hand, looking at you with lust driven eyes. "ride my cock"

crawling up to him, you took off his uniform pants to reveal him only in his boxers with a obvious tent between his legs, making you chuckle and smirk. "you really weren't kidding about that boner, were you?" you teased . his hands went around your waist and straddled you onto his lap. "last thing i'd ever kid about is me missing you" he said huskily, no hint of sarcasm and teasing in his words

your eyes slightly softened with a smile, a warm yet seductive one. "then let's get rid it" you responded before you leaned closer to his lips, kissing him, lips locked together with his, you trailed your hands down and under his boxers with satoru's grip on your waist tightening as a response to your actions. his cock twitched from the sudden contact with your palm, feeling your thumb rub around his pre cum covered tip in which he moaned in your lips

"please" satoru exhaled out with a muffle on your lips, his hand traveling from your waist to tucking a hair strand behind your ear before resting behind your head. a whine came out from his lips

"make this cock yours"

a smirk came on your lips from how needy he was before sliding his boxers out. "this cock has been already mine" you whispered to him as you leaned in to kiss him, pressing yourself on him and rubbing your pussy onto his tip. satoru's needy hands slid from your waist to your ass, pressing you more onto his cock as he let out a loud moan. "so tight, so so fucking tight" he slurred to himself with a whine coming out from your lips.

no matter how many times you fucked this man, he was always undeniably *big*

he started pushing you more to him, burying his cock in your pussy even more as your hands instantly went on his shoulders to hold yourself down on his lap from his rough thrusts.

breaking the kiss to catch your breath, he brought you back on his lips with lewd sounds from his cock in your pussy turning him on even more.

"you still on- shit, you still on the pill?" satoru panted as you gave him a frantic nod, making a small sigh come out from his lips. his cock was rough in you, feeling all those perfect spots being touched

your cunt clenched around him, making his cock twitch and a groan released from his lips. "your gonna suffocate my cock god- damn it.." he moaned, throwing his head and resting it on the bed frame with his hands still on your ass and thrusting in you

"sator- fuck, im close" you whined, your grip on his shoulder getting tighter as both of your hands went to cup his face, biting his bottom lip with a small hiss coming out from him. cum came from your sore cunt, soaking satoru's cock as a satisfied sigh came out from your lips with a whine released from satoru's lips as well, filling your pussy up with his cum

"thats it" he sighed, stopping his thrusts to experience his pleasure and deepening his cock in you to make sure no drop of his cum dripped from you before taking one of his hands and placing them on your chin

once the lust ran off both of you, a small smile went on satoru's face. "i missed you, seriously" he whispered in a soft tone, which made you smile back. "missed you too, satoru" you responded with the same tone before giving his lips a small peck. however, despite satoru fucking your brains out, you didn't forget about what he mentioned. getting off from his lap and laying your head on his chest, you spoke. "you said some shit happened when i was gone?"

satoru let out a small "oh yeah" of realization before responding. "i have a new student, along with nobara kugisaki"

"really? who?"

"ryomen sukuna's vessel"

"that's nic- wait what?"

END

ao3 link!! (press)

[loveshard]

xavier stood in the middle of the bathroom like a cat told to move off a counter. absolutely unbothered and completely in the way. it'll take a lot more than a few glares to send him running. some gentle ear rubs, maybe, but the heir won't push his luck to ask. just insist on his presence tenfold to gain the attention he rightfully deserves. he didn’t bother helping either, not seriously. his idea of 'help' was picking up each tube of sunscreen and reading the label aloud, as if he hadn't inspected each one as he subtly rotated his selections into the space. "‘broad spectrum, reef safe, water resistant up to eighty minutes,’" he read from one, then fake-whispered, "so me, basically." when caught in the act, he relinquished the sunscreen with exaggerated reluctance, placed it back in its rightful place with an even wider grin. "but then who would ensure you’re adequately protected from the tahitian sun? your rugged charm can only withstand so much uv exposure," xavier joked. "you’re lucky i’m letting you pack my products," he added with a toss of his head, "do you know what happens to my skin when i switch climates too fast? disaster. i need hydration. and at least three serums. and my jade roller." all of which was surely grabbed and packed by the very man he was hovering all over. no one had ever taken care of him like this: practically, sensibly, without the expectation of getting something in return. he hated how much he liked that about thomas. "and just to be clear, i am the snack," he said flatly, cocking a brow as if that settled it. "you just haven’t figured out if i’m sweet or salty yet." he finally stepped back, but not without one last smug look thrown over his shoulder as he sauntered back to the threshold. "you know, for the record.. ‘speechless’ is the kind of review you frame. it’s elite-tier praise. you should be grateful i didn’t talk. my mouth had better things to do." this was xavier’s favorite game: get thomas grinning or flustered without laying a single hand on him. verbal warfare, weaponized flirtation. "if you're so hellbent on sending me away, i guess i can make snacks. like a domestic goddess. just don’t expect me to clean anything involving heat or knives." which was for the best. xavier was helpless with domestic tasks, a fact that both embarrassed and amused him. "any special requests?" a question with a limited-answer supply. the best he could do alone in a kitchen was avocado toast or protein bars straight from the box.

‘ i don't remember giving a standing ovation. who gave you gold ? i remember you being speechless, though. ’ voice carefully light as he kept putting things he knew they'd need in — lotions, shave cream, whatever that expensive thing xavier liked to slather himself in that smelled good and left their toothbrushes and toothpaste out to pack in the morning. ‘ now see, why i gotta be a smart ass ? i just don't remember writing these glowing reviews that you're claiming to have. did i give them, or are you remembering the people before me ? ’ as if he didn't enjoy riling xavier up, teasing him with words and actions then not doing, or letting, xavier do anything about it until later. letting the tension build while he ducked to look into the different drawers to pull out sunscreens that he pretended to waffle upon as if xavier's words weren't affecting him too. he knew, though, that if he gave in it'd all be for naught and all the impromptu packing he'd done would go to waste. ‘ put those back. am i gonna have to banish you to the bedroom so i can get this done ? ’ lips quirking into a smile as he took back the different tubes he'd pulled, letting his fingertips brush against xavier's skin before he released a snort of laughter. ‘ that was corny. i'm insisting on being practical cause you're taking me sight seeing at some point, and we're not going butt ass naked despite your proclivities for letting everyone see your goodies. ’ brow raised pointedly as he stuffed the last few things into the bag big enough to hold both of their things, mentally ticking off what they should do before leaving. ‘ well, you could put the dishes into the dish washer. maybe make us some snacks since someone gets hungry, ’ begins as he runs his thumb over xavier's hip bone, certain there'd be something more than some biscoff cookies and pretzels on this flight, ‘ or give me enough room so that i can get done with it all while you sit and look pretty. ’

[tranquilreign]

superhuman | series | teaser

- © tranquilreign - all rights reserved | DO NOT STEAL, TAKE or COPY any of MY WORK without MY PERMISSION.

pairing; jungkook/reader genre: mafia au! dystopian au! warnings: sexual themes, knives, 18+ word count: 708 synopsis: the year 2107, seven years after the first superhuman was confirmed. Though few in numbers, they are dangerous. deadly. as their appearances have become more frequent, you have you identity hiding for your own safety. but the superhumans seem to be one stop ahead. taglist: @taekrve @taerjin @softhaes

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

"Breaking news. United Kingdom political parties sign a contract to provide South Korea with doctors as the country prepares for America's next move. Reports have claimed that South Korea's president Lee Soo-Hyun has offered a peace treaty to help end the suffering of South Korean and American citizens, and hopefully put a stop to a potential fifth world war."

Small grunts and whines reverberated throughout the small room as the TV played quietly in the background. The headboard banged against the wall every time he pushed into her with such force that she was almost left breathless. His large tattooed hand wrapped itself around her neck, pulling the woman up so her back was pressed firmly against his chest, allowing him to push further into her. His other hand secured tightly around her waist, ensuring she wouldn't lean forward while he ruined her.

Her moans grew louder as she tried to talk, the feeling of his length hitting her sweet spot sending her into a state of euphoria.

"Come on, use your words and beg me to let you come," he grunted, pulling her earlobe in between his teeth, and proceeding to kiss and suck at the delicate skin on her neck - which was already covered in black and blue.

"P-Plea-" she choked out, barely even finishing her words when he grew impatient and slammed into her at such an inhumane speed that she came without warning, eyes rolling to the back of her head. The feeling of her walls tightening around his cock was enough to push him over the edge. He continued to thrust into her, slowing down a little to help him ride out his high.

He pulled out gently, making sure not to cause any discomfort for the woman. He grabbed her clothes, handed them over to her, and politely asked her to leave. She smirked, running her hand over his chest. Before she left, she leaned forward to whisper crude things in his ear. She pulled back and sent one last wink to the man, turning to leave and gently shutting the door behind her.

He slipped his sweatpants over his muscular thighs, letting them lie securely on his hips. He sat down at the edge of his bed, watching as videos of Lee Soo-Hyun were displayed on the holographic television screen. His blood boiled as the president smiled, his urge to put a bullet between his eyes only growing stronger.

He let out a growl, grabbing the throwing knife under his pillow and hurling it at the hologram, the weapon going straight through the image and piercing the oak wood wall. He exhaled - an attempt to calm himself - and moved to grab his knife when he stopped, noticing how the video had paused when his knife went through the projection. He squinted his eyes and then smirked when he confirmed his suspicions. Swiping his finger along the image, it minimised and moved to his hand, almost as if he was holding a phone to look at it.

Pulling out a small black metal slab from his pocket, he tapped the bottom of the screen, allowing it to light up. His eyes scanned through his contacts until he found who he was looking for. Almost as soon as he dialled, the caller answered.

"What is it, Wraith? You know you should only call if-"

"Listen up, IQ. I've finally figured out a way to bring Soo-Hyun down. And we're going to strike right at the core."

to be continued...

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

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tranquilreign~

[katzusai]

⊹ preachers daughter

remmick fanfic | sinners

hai this is like my first tumblr post ever, i’m really excited but also scared to post on here. lmk if you have any tips or corrections!ᰔ

(and hi yes i did take inspo from a fic i had seen, i just interpreted it in my own way!!^.^ | intro crd: pureintntions)

tags: slight smut, vampire x human, licking, teasing, praise, neck kissing, biting, begging, possessive behavior, one shot

words: 2.5k (－ｏ⌒)

happy reading! enjoy..^_-

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ᥫ᭡

You were the last one left, pushing a broom across the sanctuary’s worn wooden floors. Staying late wasn’t unusual, you did it often, especially now that your father had started to slow down. Not that he’d ever admit it. “I ain’t old till I stop breathing,” he’d mutter whenever you brought it up. Then his straw would slip from his lips, he’d grumble, you’d laugh, and he’d pretend to be mad before cracking that familiar, tired smile.

You paused to catch your breath, brushing sweat off your brow. The stained glass above glowed faintly, the images of angels and saints cast in muted blues and purples across the pews, more solemn now in the quiet than glorious.

Crunch. A noise outside snapped you to attention. You stiffened as the heavy church doors creaked open.

“Still at it?” your father’s voice called. You let out a breath, nodding as he stepped in with a handful of sermon pages. He glanced around. “Chairs still out back?”

“Yeah. I’ll get ’em,” you offered. “You should head home.”

His look said he had no plans of leaving, but he muttered, “I’ll be back,” and stepped outside again. The doors shut behind him with a thud. You sank into a pew and let your shoulders relax. It was going to be a long evening.

Not long after, there was a knock. Sharp. Deliberate.

“Come in,” you called. No answer. You stood slowly. “…Daddy?”

The door eased open. A stranger stepped inside.

“Callin’ me daddy already?” he said with a smirk, head tilted, eyes glinting with something too calm. Too sharp.

“Who are you?” you asked, standing straighter.

“Not someone you need to be afraid of,” he said, raising both hands. But his eyes drifted toward where your father’s pistol was tucked behind the pulpit. “Wouldn’t reach for that.”

You froze. “Why not?” Your voice trembled despite yourself.

He smiled, too many teeth. “Because your old man’s out back. And I didn’t come alone.”

You took a step back.

“That’s better,” he said, moving closer. You kept retreating until your back met the cool stone wall.

“I just want a word,” he murmured, reaching out like he’d known you for years. “Been hearing all about you. The preacher’s kid. The one who always stays late. The one who never says no.”

His grin widened. “That tenderness? That’s what drew us in.”

The way his tongue traced his bottom lip had your legs wanting to go weak. "And how you're so sweet, and kind. And.. beautiful." The tip of his nose skimmed your neck.

"Stop." You protested breathlessly, "Stop.. You're.. way too close..", His lips were at your ear again, and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. And something else. A low growl.

"Why? Gettin' nervous, princess?" he teased, his fangs grazing against your skin, sending chills down your spine. "You're trembling." He chuckled, his hand pressed against the wall beside you.

His cool touch caused your eyes to flutter as you caught yourself letting out a soft whimper. He smirked, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Scared, darlin'?" he drawled. His free hand traced a path, starting from your jawline, to your collarbone. You tried to move, but you were pinned.

"Or.. excited?" His fingers moved lower, tracing the edge of your top, his thumb brushing against your exposed skin. "You're so.. warm." He sighed. "Feels good to touch something with a beatin' heart."

You should be scared, terrified, but his touch sent your mind into a frenzy. His lips ghosted over your pulse point, his fangs scraping against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

"So.. soft," he whispered, his fangs grazing your earlobe. Your mind was clouded by the feeling of his breath, the way his touch left a trail of heat in its wake. And those fangs - they sent a mix of anticipation and dread through you. "I could just.. taste you." He murmured, his voice low and deep. The thought sent a wave of heat straight to your core.

His hand moved lower, fingers trailing along your ribcage, and he leaned in closer, his body pressing against yours. You tried to resist, but the sound of your heart quickening betrayed you. He chuckled, "You're shaking again, princess. I ain't even got my fangs in ya yet." He gently captured your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, but there was a hunger in them that wasn't just about blood.

He pulled you closer, one hand still pinning you against the wall, his other wrapping around your waist. Your chest was heaving, and you knew he could feel it. His lips curled into a smug smirk. "I was right. You're not just sweet and kind. You're a little bit.. desperate," he drawled, voice dripping with a mix of mockery and admiration.

You tried to protest, but your words were trapped in your throat. The sensations coursing through you were too much. The warmth of his touch, the sharp edge of his fangs, the way he was consuming you without even biting. He leaned in, his lips hovering above your skin, and inhaled deeply. "You smell delicious," he growled. "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this... enticing."

"No, ple –" You started, but he hushed you with a finger to your lips. "Shhh." He murmured, his eyes flashing with a hint of warning. "Let's see how well you follow instructions, shall we?" He pressed himself even closer now, and the words died in your throat, as your mind became mush.

"Be a good girl," he purred, his lips against your pulse again, "And I'll only take a bit."

He moved his lips to your neck, his fangs scraping against the sensitive skin. You trembled, but remained still, your breath hitched in anticipation. His grip tightened, and he smirked. "There ya go," he whispered, "That's it."

Then, he sank his fangs into your neck. It wasn't the sharp pain you expected. Instead, it was a deep, intoxicating pleasure, like nothing you'd ever felt before. Your body responded immediately, arching into his grip.

He pulled away for a moment, and you whimpered at the loss of his fangs. But he was only admiring his handiwork. Two puncture wounds adorned your neck, a small trail of blood creeping down. "Beautiful.." he murmured, before licking the drops away.

A jolt of desire shot through you as he did, and he noticed, his eyes glinting. "You like.. that, princess?" He teased, licking his fangs again.

You groaned, your mind a mess of sensation. His words, his touch... it was too much. "P-please," you gasped, and you weren't sure if you were begging him to stop or to give you more. He chuckled, and he sounded satisfied.

"Please what, darlin’?" He asked, his fangs scraped against your neck, and you nearly melted.

"Please... don't stop," the words escaped your lips before you could stop them. He inhaled sharply, his grip on you becoming almost bruising. "You sure about that, darlin'?" He questioned, his voice dropping even lower. He moved his fangs to your ear, his tongue tracing the shell.

You nodded, your body betraying all sense of reason. "Yes," you mumbled, your eyes half-lidded in a daze. He hummed, his fangs gliding down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "That's my girl," he crooned, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and possession.

His lips moved back to your pulse, and you could feel his tongue lapping at the still-fresh wounds. The sensations sent waves of heat coursing through your body. He chuckled, "I think you like this more than you thought ya would, princess."

He traced your jugular with his fangs, a low growl in his throat. "I can taste your excitement in your blood," he murmured. "You taste so damn good."

His words were like fire in your veins, your mind completely consumed by desire. "Bite me again," you breathed, sounding needy. He chuckled, "Demanding, aren't we?" He teased, his teeth hovering over your skin. He moved down, his lips on your collarbone. "Beg for it," he commanded, his voice a low, seductive purr.

"Please!" you whimpered, unable to resist the mix of pain and pleasure he was drawing out of you. "Please... take more." The words spilled from your lips, driven by the heat coursing through you. He gave another smirk. "Begging already, princess? You're eager."

He moved lower, his lips skimming over your breast. "Say it again," he demanded, his fangs hovering over the swell of your flesh.

You trembled as he traced your flesh, your mind a haze of pleasure. You were entirely at his mercy, and he knew it. "Please... god, please," you pleaded, the words coming out in a shaky breath. He grinned at the desperation in your voice. "That's it," he crooned, "Show me how badly you want it."

He moved even lower, his lips trailing down your stomach. "Beg me to bite you again," he ordered, his voice thick with desire.

You obliged, your body and your mind completely under his command. "Bite me, please!" you gasped, your back arching. "I want it. I need it." His lips were now at your hip, and you could feel his breath on your skin, his teeth just grazing over the sensitive flesh. He chuckled, enjoying your pleas.

"You're so damn desperate, princess," he teased, licking a stripe across your hipbone. "It's making you taste even sweeter. I could feast on you all night."

"Please..." you whispered, your eyes half-lidded in a haze of desire. "Oh, God, please... I want it so bad." Your body was trembling now, desperate for more. He smirked, clearly pleased with your pleas. "That's my good girl," he murmured, and finally, he bit down.

The sharp pain returned, this time more intense, but it quickly gave way to the pleasure that came with it. You cried out, your back arching against him.

His fangs were buried deep in your flesh, drawing blood into his mouth. You felt the pull on your vein, your body surrendering completely to his need. "You taste... incredible," he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. "So damn sweet."

He withdrew his fangs, licking the wounds clean, prolonging the pleasure. "You're so reactive, princess," he growled, his hands gripping your hips.

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensations you'd never imagined before. He chuckled, "I think I could get addicted to you, princess." His grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging in. "You're trembling for me. Begging for more."

He nipped at your earlobe, his fangs scraping against your skin. "You can't help yourself, can you? You're completely under my spell."

He moved back to your neck, his lips tracing the sensitive flesh. "You're a symphony of sensations, princess," he murmured, his voice a seductive purr. "Every sound you make, every shiver, it's all music. Perfect."

He pulled back to look down at you. "You're addicted now, too, aren't you?" His fingers moved lower, and your body tensed in anticipation. "You want more of what I can give you. My touch. My fangs. Isn't that right?"

Your mind was spinning, your body trembling at his words. "Yes," you gasped. "I want more. Please. I need.." Your voice trailed off, the need in your voice was undeniable. He grinned in satisfaction. "Say it. Say you need me."

His lips returned to your neck, trailing kisses and gentle bites down your collarbone. "Tell me you're mine." His voice was a deep, possessive rumble.

The words came tumbling out without hesitation. "I need you," you breathed, completely enraptured. "I'm yours. All yours." Your heart was beating out of control, your body trembling with need. He hummed, clearly pleased with your surrender. "That's my good girl," he whispered, his lips moving lower, leaving a trail of kisses on your chest…

He stopped at your breast, his fangs scraping against the sensitive flesh. "You're so beautiful, princess." He murmured, his voice low. "So delicate. So.. willing."

His hand moved lower, his fingers tracing patterns on your thighs. "You're mine now. My good girl. My little doll." He chuckled again, clearly enjoying your compliance. "I think I'll keep you."

Your mind was a whirlwind of pleasure, your body completely under his control. "Anything you want," you gasped, "Just... please.. more." Your words were a mix of pleading and need, a desperate admission. He chuckled again, his fangs scraping against your breast. "So eager," he whispered, "You're like a drug, princess. I can't get enough of you."

His lips moved lower, his fangs grazing over your stomach. "So soft," he growled, his hands roaming over your body. "I could touch you all night." He nipped at your hipbone, the hint of pain making you whimper. "You're going to be fun."

His mouth moved lower, his fangs now grazing over your inner thigh. Your body tensed in anticipation, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. He chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. "You're so sensitive," he muttered. "So goddamn responsive. I can't wait to play with you."

His teeth scraped against your flesh, sending a shiver down your spine. You were entirely at his mercy, your body trembling in his grip. "Please," you gasped, the word barely a whisper. "More." He grinned, clearly relishing your desperation. "Beg for it," he growled, his lips hovering near your most sensitive area.

"You," you gasped, your mind consumed by desire. "I need.. you." The words were like a broken record, a constant repetition of want and need. "Please..more...I can't... " Your body was trembling, desperate for release. He chuckled, his fangs tracing over your skin. "You're so eager, princess. So damn needy."

He moved lower now, his lips now hovering between your thighs. "Patience, doll," he teased, his fangs scraping against your skin. "I'm going to enjoy this." Your body was trembling, your mind consumed by the sensations he was stirring up. He chuckled again, clearly relishing the sight of you coming undone. "You really are a symphony of sensations, aren't you?"

He moved lower, his lips trailing along your inner thigh, and your body trembled in anticipation. He chuckled, his breath hot on your skin. "You're so sensitive," he murmured. "I can't wait to taste you." His fangs grazed over your flesh, sending a shiver down your spine. Finally, he reached the most intimate part of you, and his mouth made contact, his tongue exploring and teasing.

You gasped, the sensations he was drawing out of you were almost unbearable. His fangs scraped against your flesh, but they only added to the pleasure. "So..sensitive," he growled, his voice sending vibrations through you. He pulled away for a moment, savoring the sound of your whimper of protest. "Don't worry. I'm only getting started."

His tongue traced over your sensitive flesh, circling around the most intimate part of you. You gasped and writhed beneath him, completely at his mercy. He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. "You taste so damn good," he murmured, his words sending waves of heat through you. "I could stay here all night."

His lips and tongue were driving you wild, every touch building up the pleasure inside you. You could feel it building, growing like a coiled serpent, ready to spring. You whimpered, your body arching against him, desperate for release. "Please," you gasped. "Oh..Please..."

He could tell you were on the edge, the sound of your voice driving him feral. "Please what?" He teased, his teeth scraping over the most sensitive part of you. "Use your words."

…

[sofubis]

some quick housekeeping stuff now that im back to posting on here:

-requests are open! please only send them through asks so i can keep track of them. i'm going to try keeping them open indefinitely this time so that more people have a chance to request stuff

(to keep the blog uncluttered i won't be answering any request asks unless i have questions about the request)

-i've deleted old request asks (also for decluttering purposes) but other asks are still up and tagged as #mailbox

-i'd like this blog to have a better tagging system so be i'll doing some reorganizing in the future (fixing redundant tags, adding tags for specific artists, etc). let me know if you have any suggestions for tags that should be added

thats all for now!

[konigsluv]

DOMESTIC!Sukuna x Reader

MDNI ꒦꒷ Domestic!Sukuna forgets your birthday, but a surprise picture at work with a 🎀 and donuts makes you forgive him

contains: down-bad Sukuna, dick picture, fem!reader

"Fuck off, Ryomen,"

Sukuna remembers your exact words as you left the house this morning. He had fucked up. He knew all too well.

Sukuna had forgotten today was your birthday.

It was like any other day when the two of you woke up in bed together. He had pressed kisses to the back of your neck to rouse you from sleep, but not once did he whisper the words "happy birthday, baby,"

You had expected anything, just anything. Flowers, chocolates, maybe even a nice diamond necklace, or even better a ring...

But no.

You walked out into the living room to see it the same as it was the night before. Even with the dishes still in the sink that you asked Sukuna so nicely to take care of a day ago!

You didn't even bother giving him a kiss on the way out of the house, or listen to his excuses as you dressed as fast as you could. Sukuna was even baffled that you pushed his hands off of your waist when he tried talking sweet to you. You never resisted his sweet voice...

Now he knew he was screwed.

Especially when you didn't respond to his texts, and ignored his calls. In all, it made Sukuna a little pissed. Not at you though, just as himself for being such a fuck up. Seriously, how bad of a boyfriend was he to blank on your birthday?

"Fuck, please baby, i'm sorry," he growls into his phone as he collapses onto the couch, "just answer me- answer the god damn phone already," he then hangs up, hoping you'll at least listen to the voicemail.

You don't.

You're at work now, staring down at your phone with furrowed brows. The countless texts:

10:23AM || Ryo: baby i'm sorry

10:23AM || Ryo: i'll take you out to dinner, get you something nice

seen 10:23 AM

10:34AM || Ryo: fuck i'm already pissed off, don't ignore me

10:35AM || Ryo: i'm sorry, tell me what to do to make it up to you

seen 10:35 am

You couldn't believe the audacity of that man. For him to get mad?!

After ignoring him, Sukuna stopped spamming you, which made you feel even shittier.

You kind of wanted him to fight for your attention on your birthday, even if you were mad... and weren't responding...

bzz-bzz

You almost ignore the notification from your phone, thinking you should punish him more. Though you couldn't, you wanted to see what else he had to say for himself.

11:14AM || Ryo: i'm sorry baby. I got your present, just forgive me already

*photo attached*

You purse your lips in suspicion, you wonder what he got you that could make up for forgetting your fucking birthday.

Clicking on the photo you immediately turn your phone off at the speed of light and almost fling it across the room.

Was he crazy?!?! Sending that to you at work?!

Your cheeks flush as you whip your head around, wondering if anyone saw your phone screen. Of course Sukuna sent you a fucking picture of his dick.

11:15AM || You: why the fuck are you sending me dick pics at work?!

11:15AM || You: I'd be dead if someone saw that

11:15AM || Ryo: did you see it

11:16AM || You: your penis? yes Ryomen.

11:16AM || You: I know what it looks like.

11:16AM || Ryo: you didn't, open it again

Groaning internally you wondered what he was on about. You glance around once more before walking into the bathrooms and shutting yourself in a stall.

Clicking on the photo again your eyes widened.

It was Sukuna's cock alright but... he had tied a pink ribbon around it in the shape of a bow. And was that a box of donuts?...

11:19AM || Ryo: i'll let you stack donuts on it. I can get those fruit roll ups if you want me to

You huff a sigh from your nose, running a hand down your face as you try to calm your erratically beating heart. This man was going to be the death of you.

After a minute of conflicted emotions and staring at your phone screen, you respond.

11:20AM || You: you're forgiven.

m.list

please do not copy or repost on any platforms without my permission

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED

[domxmarvel]

N°1 N°2

Masterlist

Pairing: Billie eilish x Female!Reader

Over years and years you built up a loyal audience and your reputation. Becoming a popular influencer for doing lifestyle video,dances and makeup reviews which slowly started to include fragrances. Billie followed you for years,she liked listening to you talk about anything and everything. Sometimes leaving you comments which your fans took note of. You were getting through your PR packages and found one,it was Billie's perfume so you decided to review it for the video. And for some reason you decided to do it live,you did that some times. You started it and waited for people to join. In a few minutes you already had almost 5k watching you,and the comments were just compliments and some about how excited they are to hear your opinion on this perfume. After a few minutes you finally saw Billie join,her name with the verified icon popping up.

"Hi guys" you said "so before we start,is the audio good?" You asked,reading the comments for the answer. A lot of people started saying it was so you decided to continue. "Well then,today I'm just gonna do a quick review on Billie's new perfume,since she's kind enough to send me a PR package" You started showing the bottle then reading an excerpt of the description on the back of the box. "To be completely transparent,these were sent to me but you'll still get my honest review" You explained as you opened up the two boxes. The comments started moving fast,mostly about how beautiful the packaging is and how everyone can't wait to get their own bottles.  "First of all it just looks so pretty I'm in love" You started taking the actual bottle into your hand. "It's such an interesting component" you said before explaining "bottle,for those who didn't understand" you held up the bottles,one in each hand. One gold one black. Everyone started fangirling over the bottles already,there were already at least a hundred comments about people saying they can't wait to have one just like them. You pulled them closer to the camera,showcasing them a little bit. "Which one should we try first,gold or black?" Comments started coming at you left and right,some saying black,some gold,some saying you should just smell both at the same time. You looked around amused by how much people couldn't decide,you almost didn't notice Billie herself commenting.

'Try black 🖤'

"Well since the queen spoke" You chuckled "now,I was warned that this one is strong,so..." you spray it on your wrist. Reading the comments as you waited for it to get some air.

People in the comments were going insane over how you used the word 'queen' to describe Billie's comment. Meanwhile you started smelling the spray on your wrist,the comments waiting for your reaction. "Whoa" you pulled away,chuckling before explaining. "That's strong,it's a very masculine fragrance yet you can tell it was made from women" You smelt it again. You could see people already asking you if they should buy it,some starting to fangirl over the fact you just called it masculine and feminine at the same time. While reading through the comments you saw Billie commenting,this time it was just a compliment.

'Smells good right ? 🖤'

"It's good,I personally like it but it's definitely one that you'd need to smell it yourself" you explained,giving your opinion on the first one. "It's what I'd imagine Billie would smell like" you added at the end. People in the comments started agreeing with your statement and some said they will definitely try it. A lot of them were fangirling over how you complimented Billie,one comment in particular said.

'I love how she literally said it smelled like Billie as if she knew how Billie smelled like 💀' You laughed as you read that comment out loud.

"It's what I imagine she'd smell like" you emphasized,in a light joking tone. Once you said that people literally went crazy. Comments started rolling in talking about the fact that you said that while she's in the video. More of them starting to say that you were probably thinking about all that when you tested the perfume on your wrist and that you were thinking about her.

‘I can't believe she's imagining how Billie smells like while she's watching 😭😭’

‘She's so cute I can't I swear’

‘She's probably thinking about being near her,her face rn I can't ‘  You chuckled as you moved onto the next perfume. Opening it as you continued reading the comments. While you were taking it out of the protective package someone commented saying that Billie herself didn't comment yet,which made a lot of people start tagging her account and saying 'PAY ATTENTION'.

'I'm PAYING ATTENTION chill out 💀' You chuckled and held up the perfume,the gold one.

"Alright,back to the review. So the gold one,it's obviously the same component" You started,showing it before spraying it. While you started smelling it people started getting excited,waiting for you to describe how it smelled. Comments started going crazy again,asking you to react to that perfume too,some jokingly asking if you would imagine how Billie would smell with that one too. "So this one is lighter,definitely a more feminine fragrance. Although I still think I prefer the other one" you held up the black one for a moment before setting it down and continued to describe the gold one.

'She's literally admitting that she prefers that one because she wants to smell like Billie so bad'.

'God she probably wants that on Billie so bad' Comments started getting excited over the fact you were saying the black one was more your type. Many saying that

'it matched your vibes' You shook your head,chuckling.

"I knew I shouldn't have live streamed this"

'Don't stop keep going'

'Please do that on me'

'She's adorable look at her'

"So the gold one,it's more feminine and lighter it's definitely easy on the sense. The black one is more masculine and stronger. I personally like it but I can see how some people would not like it very much" explained sounding more professional. You finished describing the perfume,giving your final thoughts. A lot of them in the comments were saying that they loved your descriptions and that they couldn't wait to try them now.

'She got me blushing more than the actual bottles'

'God she looks cute when she's professional'

"So I'll take some questions before I end this live" People in the comments started typing fast,not wanting to miss this opportunity. A lot of them were asking you about your life,some were wondering if you had a girlfriend and others were just complimenting your makeup.

'Who's your celebrity crush? Are you single?'

'Pls tell me you're straight please please please'

'What's your skincare routine I need to know 💀'

'God I wanna be you or be with you'

'Can you pls pls tell us what products you used for your makeup?'

'Girl I'm like totally in love with you what's your type'

' You're so pretty I can't 😭' You skimmed through the comments,picking some.

"What's my type,I don't really have one. Those asking for hair,makeup and skin care those will be getting separate videos on my YouTube channel. Am I straight?" You read out loud which caused another wave of comments. Comments started rushing left and right,people going insane over you answering their questions but most importantly the are you straight comment.

'She ignored the straight question girlie please say yes'

'She just said she has no type girlie be for real I know you have one 😭'

"Okay fine,I might have a type but I'm not gonna spell it out. As for the am I straight question,no I'm not straight. Women are too hot" Comments went ballistic, people literally losing it at the fact you just confirmed you were not straight.

'If I weren't so damn useless I'd be trying to get with you 😭'

'I just knew it 😭'

'SHE'S ONE OF US SHE'S ONE OF US'

"I'll take one more question before I leave for tonight"

Some were asking about other celebrities,others were just asking what kind of girls you like and other were simply asking you to describe a perfect date

'BILLIE ASKED A QUESTION' A lot of them went crazy and you had to scroll to find her questions.

'If I asked you on a date,where would we go?' Was her question. Comments went insane,some people started asking you what you were gonna answer and others were fangirling for the fact Billie asked you that.

'PLEASE TELL ME YOU TWO ARE GONNA GO ON A DATE'

"Well I'd wanna go somewhere more quiet,like outside of the city. Somewhere quiet and calm" you said before your eyes caught the next question. "No,we're not dating" you laughed it off. Comments started going insane over your answer,most being disappointed. 

'Oh come on why not'

As soon as the stream was over you were sent a message from Billie herself. Seeing that it's a message from Billie herself you almost have a heart attack,your heart is beating fast and you're excited,nervous. You opened the Instagram messages and opened hers.

'Hey,I know this is like totally random but can I ask you something?' And that's the message that led to you appearing in a bunch of promotional campaigns and material for the perfumes. Posting some to your personal Instagram,several fans posting the other posters when they saw them out in the world.

Fans noticed the promo campaigns and they went crazy. Comments were going insane on your Instagram and Twitter and people started seeing you everywhere because of the promo campaigns.

'SHE'S LITERALLY GOING TO BE PART OF BILLIE'S PROMOTIONS'

'SHE LITERALLY GOT A PROMOTION WITH BILLIE'

Your photo of you holding up the black one was caption with. 

'Can confirm she does smell like this perfume' the comments were freaking out.

'God this is so cute'

'SHE CONFIRMED IT'

'NO WAY'

'SHE CONFIRMED IT SHE'S THE ONLY ONE THAT KNOWS'

'OH MY GOD' Comments were going crazy while others were trying to defend you from haters and everyone was still fangirling over the fact that you literally said that Billie smelled like the perfume. Although one shot did catch people's attention,you were laying down. Your hands in your hair,the perfume on your chest as your hair was sprawled around you. It was clearly a shot that was sexier than the rest of the promos. Everyone was going insane over the fact that you did a sexier ad for one of Billie's perfumes.

'I'm going to need that pic for scientific purposes 👀'

'SHE CAN'T JUST 😭'

'NO WAY SHE JUST DID THAT' Comments we're going insane, people were screaming and fangirling at the fact that you did THAT on an ad for a perfume

'Is she trying to like kill me or something'

'She's testing my gay little heart' And it wasn't helped by Billie posting it to her own account,typing up a caption to go along with it. Her caption reading.

'I told you she'd look cute in black. 🖤' Comments on her page we're also going ballistic, people literally going insane at the fact you did a sexy ad for a perfume,comments saying you're trying to lure her or that she already fell for you. Immediately the speculation about if you had met each other or if there was more going on started floating around.

'I think they're already together'

'Did they meet?'

'I don't think this is just for the ads' People were trying to know if you both worked together and if this was just for the promo or if something more was happening.

'She would've never used that sexy pic for the ad if they didn't meet' Billie posted another pic to her story,a photo of you sitting up with your hair flowing as you held up the perfume. Moving as if you were kissing the perfume,your lips inches from touching it. It was one that wasn't used in a single ad. She wrote another caption under the photo.

'She looks so gorgeous like this. 🖤' Her comments were flooded. 

'God she looks so pretty in that pic. 👀'

'She looks like she's gonna kiss the perfume'

'I know that pic was for Billie 👀' You looked through the comments,Billie had replied to some.

'I know,she look so beautiful I love it ❤️'

'And do you blame her?'

'God she look so sexy holding it like that'

'You can say that 😏'

'That pic was definitely for personal use right'

'That's for me to know and you to find out 😉'

Some comments were about you.

' I keep looking at her face like girl you're so goddamn cute 💀'

'She's so pretty that this pic should be on billboards'

'And she look so adorable with her hair down like that'

'God she is so cute and she's making me jealous of a perfume 😭' 

A promotional ad was soon posted to Billie's Instagram,one with her and one with you. The caption for hers was a release date,the name of the perfume and nothing else. But yours had much more,a small note. A thank you to her for the opportunity.

'You look amazing in black,it's like you were made for it,🖤'

'Careful now' you commented on her post.

'Why? It's the truth, 🖤' Immediately it was picked up my the outlets headlines popping up,suggesting you were dating.

'Billie Eilish girlfriend? She's making fans go insane over that caption 🔥'

'Billie Eilish's girlfriend revealed through perfumes? 🖤'

'Is Billie Eilish finally off the market? Rumors going around have these two to be dating'

'Billie Eilish and her potential secret girlfriend? 👀🖤'

Billie had to quickly address it before the media would get too crazy. The statement was clearly influenced by her team and wasn't written only by her.

'I know there are currently rumors going around that me and the girl in the ads are dating. I want to make it clear it is simply to promote the perfumes. Both of us are single. Thank you'

A few days later you were back to your regular routine. You hadn't heard anything from Billie since that statement came out. Fans were more intense towards you and you even got recognized a lot more and got asked for pictures. But you had to admit,it hurt being ignored like this. You knew it was her team protecting her and her reputation. You understood that but it hurt going from seeing her comment from time to time to not at all hurt. It was weird,one day you were talking to her and now radio silence.Comments were still going crazy,people still kept saying the statement was fake or that you both were still secretly dating. And you knew it wasn't true but you kind of wished it was. You decided to make one last post for now,announcing that you were taking a break from social media.

'Hey guys

Recently I've been feeling tired and burnt out. I'll be taking a break from all my socials for the next couple of weeks. All I can hope for is that you'll wait for me when I'm ready to come back,refreshed with some new energy. Love you all,xoxo  💖' you made the post.

Comments we're being left, some saying they'll miss you,some saying they'll be waiting, and some saying to take all the time you need. What you didn't expect was Billie finally reaching out. Billie's text was the first you got from her in weeks,you had to admit,it got your heart to skip a beat.

'Hey,I saw your announcement. You okay?'

'Just burnt out and stressed. I'll be fine though' you messaged back.

'I get that. I can't even remember how many times I've done that,it sucks'

'Yeah,I know. So how is it going with the rumors and stuff?'

'I don't know, my management is doing its job. But fans are still clinging to the idea that we're secretly together,or that the statement was fake.' There was a pause before she messaged you back,she was probably thinking of what to say,and you knew that the rumors and stuff were going crazy.

'Should I make some fake posts saying I have a boyfriend or something. Just to make it die down faster?'

'I don't think it would work at this point,if you did that they'd still be convinced that I'm paying you to say that or something. They wouldn't believe you at this point..'

'You're probably right. Wait, should you even be talking to me right now. Won't your team be mad?'

'Probably,but they don't have to know. Besides,I'm too stubborn to listen to my team sometimes. I just wanted to make sure you're alright.'

'I'm alright,just it was time to take a break. How have you been doing?'

'Honestly,kind of tired. All this promo work is getting to me,and now with everything else it's exhausting. Not to mention my team keeps trying to set me up with people'

'Really trying to prove the rumor about us dating to be false,huh?'

'Honestly,I think deep down they want me to have a big scandal right now.'

'Yeah,I guess. But it's not really working, the rumors won't die down even after the statement'

'I don't know about that,you know people did say we make a good looking couple'

'They said that? Really' Billie texts you back with shock, she sounds surprised.

'The idea of scandals and stuff sells,they probably think the rumor would do that but it isn't. Besides,are you even single?'

'I am single,haven't dated anyone since the start of my social media career' you explained

'You've never dated anyone at all? Is this why you have people clinging to the idea that we're together'

'I never dated anyone publicly' you clarified 'They've been waiting for it for a long time,could be why they've gone crazy over us possibly dating'

'That makes a lot of sense, and it's kind of cute to know that they've been waiting for you to show up with some guy. And now you're here... with me I mean not that I'm saying that I'm that guy but they think we're' You chuckled to yourself.

'I get it' you typed back before adding. 'Although if I did have to have a dating rumor,I wouldn't want to be with anyone else'

'Really?'

'Well you aren't the worst person to be in a dating rumor with'

'I don't know if I should be thanking you or offended'

'Make of it what you will,but we would make a hot couple'

'We would, wouldn't we?'

'Definitely'

'It's a damn shame that the rumor isn't true'

[velvetsserenity]

himbo!alien obsessed with human!reader !!

☁︎ obsessed!alien who first saw you when you wandered a little too close to his ship, all soft steps and unguarded warmth, and he thought… oh. oh, that one’s mine.

☁︎ obsessed!alien who pressed the wrong button (he swears!) and accidentally initiated the abduction. watched through the glass as your eyes went wide, your little limbs flailing in confusion, and felt something foreign and hot twist in his chest cavity. love, maybe?

☁︎ obsessed!alien obsessed alien who didn’t understand why you screamed at the stasis pod or cried when he offered you a nutrient orb. “you consume these… yes?” but he replayed the footage of your trembling lips and furrowed brow over and over again that night, trying to catalog every emotion you displayed. he’s learning you

☁︎ obsessed!alien obsessed alien who writes down human customs in his travel log. things like smiling. hand holding. personal space. then crosses each one out because none of them apply when it’s you. you’ll adapt to his ways soon enough

☁︎ obsessed!alien who tapes pictures of you all around his room stills from his observation logs, screenshots of your social feeds before he took you, blurry surveillance footage from when you walked home alone. you’re everywhere now. as you should be

☁︎ obsessed!alien who asks questions like “how many units of touch before mating protocol is acceptable?” and “does screaming indicate readiness?” he writes your answers down even if you don’t give them. he’ll guess. he’s good at guessing (no, he is not.)

☁︎ obsessed!alien who asks with complete sincerity, “is this the ritual where i insert?” right before pawing at your hips like he’s trying to find where you come apart. his hands are too big, his movements too eager, and it’s messy and overwhelming and too much, but he worships every shiver and whimper you give him

☁︎ obsessed!alien who fucks like it’s a bonding rite. eye contact the entire time. hands gripping tight but not enough to hurt. murmuring in a tongue you don’t understand, low and slow like a prayer. he doesn’t know what aftercare is, but he’ll cradle you against his bare chest for hours, just listening to you breath

☁︎ obsessed!alien who spreads you open with unsteady hands, studying every twitch and slick sound like he’s decoding holy text. his breath fogs against your thighs, and he doesn’t kiss, he licks. long, experimental, almost clumsy strokes. trying to understan the taste of want.

☁︎ obsessed!alien who’s too big, and knows it, but he wants it to hurt. not maliciously but spiritually. he thinks your body breaking around his is proof you were meant for him. his forehead presses to yours while he forces his cock into you slow and deep, whispering, “adaspt for me. i will reshape you. we will fuse.”

☁︎ obsessed!alien who keeps going even after you’ve gone limp beneath him. he doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. he just can’t stop. the slick noises, your twitching, the smell of sex filling the air it sends him into a trance. “just a few more pulses. i must complete the bonding. please. let me finish inside again.”

authors note: isn’t he just so dreamy !!

plagiarism not authorized

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (6)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"It was a nice day," S says as he checks the rear view mirror.

You twitch out of your trance. Your eyes are itchy, the way they get after a double shift. You suppress a yawn and nod.

"Very nice, thank you," you agree and twiddle your fingers in your palm.

"But you're anxious to get home..." he says.

"Well....my mom..." you begin. "I'm not trying to ditch you--"

"Ha, I know. I'm selfish. I've had you all day." He keeps his eyes on the road. "Should we stop and get her something?"

"Um, that's. Mm. I'd love to but..."

"Might be suspicious. Got it." He clucks. "Well, what about tomorrow? You got plans?"

"She has an appointment," you say. "Check-up."

"Ah, makes sense," he says. "When is it? Maybe after..."

"Yeah, er maybe. But... how long are you here? What about New York?" You wonder. The big city, his company, all that is still a mystery to you.

"It can wait. Besides, the hotel has wifi. I got all night to catch up emails."

"Oh, right." You stare at the street ahead.

"Tomorrow?" He prompts before the silence drags.

"Tomorrow. After noon? Should be done by then," you assure him, twisting your fist around your finger.

"Can I ask you a favour?" He slows as he gets to your street.

"A favour?"

"Yeah. Nothing big. Promise." He turns the corner and keeps a snail's pace.

"Alright," you utter.

"Will you bring a few bills tomorrow? We can go through them. Sort that out--"

"S. No. I can't--" 

"But that's the deal," he insists. "How can I help if I don't know the situation?"

"I... I don't know. It's a lot."

"A lot you shouldn't be worried about. You should be focused on your mom. Not money." He stops in front of your building. He angles in his seat and puts his hand on the back of yours. "This is what I'm here for. To take all that off your shoulders."

You exhale and swallow dryly. "It feels like too much."

"Not to me." His thumb rubs the seat, close to your shoulder. "Look, I'm just me. I got more than enough for that. I want to do this. I want someone to share this with. To spoil, if I can."

You look at him. He's too good to be true. After all the bad days, all the set backs, all the red numbers, you just can't believe it's what he says it it.

"I'll bring one," you offer.

"One?" He echoes.

"Mhmm," you nod.

"The highest one then," he says. His tone is even but demanding. 

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeats and clears his throat. "Look, sweetheart, let's not ruin the day. Go inside, spend some time with mom. I'll text you."

You chew your lip. You should tell him. It won't help if he thinks you're ignoring him.

"Maybe not." You fidget. "I'm... I'm almost out of... I uh, the internet is down and I pay per message."

"Hm, why didn't you mention it before?" He challenges.

You sink down, pushing your shoulders high. "It's embarrassing."

He sighs. 

"No problem. Tomorrow. After noon," he pats the seat and rescinds his hand. "Hope the appointment goes well."

"Me too," you murmur in dread.

You undo your seat belt and grab your purse. You sit up and glance at him. He watches you expectantly but you're not sure what he's waiting for.

"Good night," you say.

His jaw ticks, "good night, sweetheart."

You smile weakly and get out. You shut the door gently and turn to step over the curb. You march up to the front doors and peek back. You wave then go inside.

You feel bad now. Like you're abandoning him. After such a nice day, you're just strutting off without giving him anything...

Your chest knots up as you climb the stairs. It isn't just him, it's the lies. You're not sure you can keep this up but if you don't, what are you going to do? You can't pay him back and the missed hours at work won't do much to help that. And if you keep calling in, well, you might not have time to make up for what you missed.

You're confused. This was supposed to make it all easier but it all feels so much more complicated. Why can't life be as simple as the chrysalis in the hamper? 

🦋

"Will you come in with me?" Your mom asks as they call her name.

You nod and stand with her. It's not like the early days. When she went on her own. She didn't tell you the diagnoses right away. Not until the first treatment. That was a horrible day and there's been many of those since.

You follow the nurse to the sterile room. You sit in the chair in the corner and your mother sits in the chair by the small counter top. You're silent. Both anxious.

Dr. Vincent enters. You almost feel like you should stand. You cross your legs and return his greeting. It's not a very good morning but you won't say so.

"So, Noreen," he says to your mother. "I have some news."

Your mother looks at him from her chair. She looks small like a child. You've never seen her afraid but in that moment, you see her eyes gleam.

"You're a candidate for stem cell transplant." He says.

Your mom looks at you and back to him. You don't know what that means either. You remember they mentioned it early on but it never came back up.

"No more chemo. At least for now. We think this is the opportune time and it could help with recovery in the long run," he explains.

"Oh, right," she breathes. 

"We'll send you for a few scans to see how things are looking but your last images were positive."

"Uh huh, okay," she blinks. "Is it very expensive?"

He hums. "It can be. Depending on insurance. Of course, it would be my recommendation for you to go with it. Chemo is showing results but in my experience, this is the best course of action. If you wish to continue as you are, it's entirely within your discretion."

You're both quiet.

"I'll provide you some information on it before you go. How about that? Give you some time to think." He says.

"That's good," you say as your mom stays silent.

"Alright, then, we'll do the usual," Vincent diverts. "Let's get you on the bed."

You sit patiently as he checks your mother over. He's quick and efficient. He has a full waiting room, even this early in the morning. You thank him after your mother does and he leaves the room.

She steps onto the stool and down to the floor. As you approach her, she sighs. She doesn't say anything as she leads you out of the room.

As she stops at the admin desk to get the folder of pamphlets, she bids them a good day. As you come out into the gloomy of the rainy day, you take her hand. She stops and stands at the curb, looking out into the distance.

"I'm tired, pie."

"I know, mom," you say.

"What do you think?" She asks.

"I don't know. Maybe... we should read the stuff."

"It'll be expensive."

"It's all expensive," you mutter.

She drops her head. "My last days and I have to watch my daughter work herself half to death just to suffer more and more."

"Mom, please, he said things are looking good--"

"Maybe but I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

You swallow as your eyes burn. "It's... it's your choice. Always your choice." You look away, trying not to cry.

"Honey," she squeezes your hand. "I don't want to give up. I know you won't, either, but you're tired too. It hurts me to see you like this."

"Mom," is all you can eke out.

She lets go of you and looks at the folder. She exhales. "I'll read it over."

"We'll read it together," you offer. 

"When's work?" She wonders.

"Noon," you answer. Not work, per se. Just an obligation.

"Enough time for breakfast," she says. "My treat."

"Mom," you say.

"I know, I know. But I just want one last cinnamon bun before I go," she insists.

🦋

You're trembling. You haven't been able to stop since you left the apartment. You couldn't let your mom see the panic. She's already having a rough day.

You stand under the awning of the building, waiting. S drives up and you run out without pulling up your jacket hood. You feel in your pocket for the pamphlet.

You get in the car and flick the moisture from your cheeks. You gasp. "It's really coming down."

"You don't have an umbrella?" S says.

"Forgot," you shrug.

"Mm, well, looks like a day best spent inside. I was thinking, they got pretty good food at my hotel. We could have lunch."

You hesitate. The thought of his hotel room makes your stomach stir. You remember what he said. 'We'll see where it goes'. It's feeling more and more like there's only one way this goes.

"Sure, whatever you like." You sniff.

You buckle up and sit back. You tilt your head up.

"Long morning?" He asks as he pulls into the street.

"Yeah... a little."

"Bad news?" He asks cautiously.

"Mm, news... stuff to think about."

"Right," he steers on as the wipers swing back and forth. "Well, just relax. Once we get to the hotel, you can get dry and clear your head."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You close your eyes, content to let the rain and the motion soothe you. It's a moment to prepare yourself.. Maybe once you tell him, he'll change his mind.

When the car stops, you snap up as if you were sleeping. Your mind slows as the world does the same. S smiles at you and reaches behind your seat. He grabs an umbrella out of the back.

He gets out, shielding himself from the downpour, and comes around to open your door. He walks you up to the hotel doors and folds up the umbrella before he enters the lobby. He points you to the elevators.

"Got some work done this morning," he proclaims as you get on. "You were asking about my company."

"Oh, right. I was. Curious, I guess. I don't know anyone who owns one."

"You do now," he chuckles. "It's not as glamourous as it seems. This is as much time as I've had to myself in... a decade?"

"Really?"

"Not to complain. I mean, certain things I don't have to worry about. It's not a bad life. Solitary," he shrugs and the doors open.

He guides you along the hallway to his suite door. He lets you in ahead of him. He puts the umbrella in the tall vase by the door.

You unzip your jacket and hang it. You look down at your jeans. They're soaked. You rub the damp fabric.

"I got a spare robe in here, if you want to let those dry," he says.

"Sure, uh, probably," you agree.

He takes off his shoes and you step out of your boots. You linger by the door, shyly glancing into the suite. He stands up and combs his fingers through his hair.

"I'll get the room service menu," he grins and struts away. "Make yourself at home."

As he looks around, you reach into your jacket pocket. You hide the pamphlet behind your back, clasping your wrist tight, and tiptoe further inside. He waves the laminated menu at you.

"Right here," he puts it on the small round table between two chairs. "I'll get that robe."

"Sure."

You wait, reluctant at the edge of the sitting room. A couch and a clamshell chair in velvet. It's all so nice.

He comes back in.

"If you want to change before you make up your mind--"

"Uh huh, yeah."

You keep the pamphlet behind you and take the robe. He points you to the bathroom and you scurry into it. You lock yourself inside and strip off the wet jeans. The texture leaves your skin itchy. Ugh.

You hang them on the bar meant for towels and pull on the robe. It's soft and roomy. You tuck the pamphlet into the pocket and face the door.

You emerge as S sits at the table. You walk carefully, paranoid that the robe might fall open despite the tight knot around the middle. You sit down and lean over to read the menu. It's a good distraction.

"I recommend the mac and cheese, as simple as it sounds," he taps with his finger.

"Oh, I like mac and cheese," you say.

You continue your perusal. You'll probably just go with what he says. Your appetite is lost in the storm of your inside.

"So, uh, did you bring that bill?"

You sit up stiffly and blink at him. Your hand goes to the pocket of the robe. You gape at him. How do you do this?

"We can wait--"

"No, I can't. Not-- no. Because..." you stammer as your heart races. "Because it's... it's too much and... you can say no and... I'll be okay. My mom will be okay. I'll figure it out. I will."

"Woah, woah, sweetheart," he gets up and comes around the table. He gets down to his knees as he puts his hands on your arms, his thumbs caressing you. "It's alright. I asked you to--"

"No, no," you jitter as you reach in the pocket and slide out the pamphlet, slightly damp from the rain. "It's... it's more... it's..." you look down at the paper as you clutch it in your hands. "The doctor said it will be good but..."

He drags his hands down your arms to your hands. He eases the pamphlet free. He sits back on his heels and opens it. He reads it over as you cover your face.

"I think I should go--"

"I can do it," he says calmly. "One hundred? Easy."

"One hundred thousand!" You drop your hands. "S!"

"It's just money. This isn't about that. It's about your mom, isn't it?"

You stare at him. You don't understand how he can be so generous. It's just take, take, take, and you have nothing to give. And the more he gives, the more you depend on it. The hole only gets deeper and deeper.