#Soiling Mr. Innocent

[kesujo]

Chapter 6: Sick Days - Part 2

Previous chapter here.

Shortly after Parker re-entered the bedroom, upon Jessica’s insistence, he was once again completely nude along with Jessica, trapped against her shapely bottom rubbing against his groin and his growing erection. “Hmm, there’s your cute little friend,” Jessica sang in satisfaction, Parker’s hardening member shamelessly poking at her upper thighs.

Parker wanted to complain, but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears. But maybe, if he tired Jessica out quickly enough, she would permit him to leave. So, instead, he did the opposite;. he took a second to align his rod with her core before swiftly pushing himself inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Jessica yelped, muffling her voice with the blanket, “Eager, are we? Did you finally give in?”

“The sooner you tire out, the sooner I leave.”

“Ooh, so you’re planning on tiring me out?” Jessica’s salacious remark only earned her a groan from Parker. “Are you going to fuck me so hard that I can’t walk tomorrow morning?”

“Shut up,” he grunted softly, pushing his dick inside her until he felt the pillowy, firm softness of her ass pressing against his crotch. “You just want to fuck, don’t you? You just want to cum a few times with the dick of your husband’s best friend, right? If I can’t get out of it, then at least I can give you what you want as quickly as possible so that I can go back home.”

“Tell me more,” she whispered back, guiding his hands, which were resting on her hips, up towards her boobs. “Tell me how much of a dirty slut I am.” Parker’s hands were placed on her breasts, cupping the sizable mounds in the palm of his sturdy hands. He obliged in Jessica’s silent request, closing his fingers around the pliable skin and feeling the velvety softness in his palms and on his fingers. “Tell me how much of a cheating whore I am, to be fucking my husband’s best friend.” Parker grimaced again, a surge of guilt invading his body parallel the wave of pleasure at the feeling of Jessica’s hot vaginal walls, sticky with her—and possibly, his—own cum squeezing his meat in a vice-grip and her tits giving way to his every kneading and squeezing motion. “Fuck, yes. Milk my slutty tits dry, fuck my naughty ass red, and then deposit all of your semen straight into my greedily waiting pussy.”

“You—you want my cum so badly?” The words coming out of his mouth felt so unnatural, but if it was going to bring Jessica closer to orgasm as it proved to do in the past, then he was willing to do it. “Does your slutty pussy really need my cum so badly, even after receiving that first load?”

“Yes, fuck, god yes,” Jessica replied, her voice indicative of her increasing breathlessness. “I can’t get enough of your cock or the hot feeling of your thick cum filling up me up with your cock stuffing my pussy to the brim. Just the thought of my body vibrating while succumbing to an orgasm with your dick stuffed deep inside me, stretching my tight little cunt is enough to get me to soak my panties…”

As their pace increased, Parker started to hear the audible noise of her butt damp with cum slapping against his groin, moist with a similar liquid, and tried to adjust accordingly. However, Jessica was having none of it. “What are you doing?” she whined, adding a brief rotating, grinding motion against his groin every time Parker’s dick kissed Jessica’s cervix. “You really don’t need me to tell you that you can be rough, do you? After all these times, why do you still insist on waiting for me to ask?”

“Well, for one, if I just start off by doing what you want, doesn’t that mean that you’ve won?”

Jessica couldn’t help but giggle at that. “What? Won? Oh! You mean when I said that thing about feeling like this is a game of trying to ‘soil’ you?”

“Yeah. Plus, I mean, you aren’t normal in many regards.”

“Aw, thanks,” Jessica replied, playfully shaking her ass against his groin. Parker groaned, gritting his teeth as another wave of ecstasy rose up his body.

“I-I meant, that most girls don’t like it as rough as you do, I bet. And I feel like if I get used to starting off too rough, then I’ll just default to it if I ever have sex with other girls.”

“What? You mean to tell me that, with your looks and your dick size, that you aren’t having sex with other girls?” Parker refused to award the teasing remark a response. “Fuck, well, they’re all missing out … maybe I can introduce you?”

“You’re—what is wrong with you?”

Jessica simply giggled. “That can’t have been the only reason though, right? That you’re scared you’ll get too accustomed to being rough when fucking a girl?”

“Well, I mean, it’s loud, isn’t it?”

“You think Hunter can hear the sound of my ass slapping against you through two doors? Fuck me harder, or I’ll give Hunter something to hear.”

It was an extremely precarious situation. Ordinarily, or ‘ordinarily’, Parker would just take this as a final warning from Jessica and use his full strength. However, now he had to make sure to strike a delicate balance; use enough strength to please Jessica, but not so much that it created noise that would draw Hunter’s attention.

So, Parker’s solution was just to gradually ramp up the speed and intensity until the sound of sex was audible to Parker, but still soft enough to not drown out the sound of the running heater of the apartment. “You’re such an attention seeking bitch that you resorted to pretending to be sick so that you could get the attention of both your caring husband and my cock inside your pussy, huh? Are you content, being my personal sex toy while your husband labors just a room away?”

“Yes, fuck Parker, your—” her tone quickly shifted, her body freezing in an instant. “Hunter.” The one word caused Parker such an overwhelming amount of panic that his entire body froze—luckily, the same wasn’t the case for Jessica, who got over her initial shock quickly. “Scoot back, create as much distance between us as possible, and pretend to be asleep.”

Parker obeyed, extracting his sopping wet dick out of Jessica and shifting over, closing his eyes the millisecond he heard the doorknob turning. “Jessica? How are you?”

Jessica, who had also shifted to the edge of the bed while still making sure that the blanket was still adequately covering the two, resumed her ‘sickly’ act. “I’m good,” she replied in a whisper, motioning Hunter to lower his voice.

Hunter, although confused, obeyed as he asked, “What’s Parker doing on the bed?”

The question made Parker start sweating bullets. In the split second that followed, Parker imagined all the fallout that would happen after Hunter learned of the truth: Hunter yelling at his wife, Hunter’s disdainful look at him as Parker collected his clothes and left … but none of it came. Instead, what came was Jessica’s calm, steady voice, “He’s asleep. He didn’t tell you, but he mentioned how, last night, he worked late and fell asleep while kneeling on the bed just now. I didn’t want him to sleep in such an uncomfortable position but didn’t want to disturb you, so I pulled him up onto the bed and tried to create as much distance so he wouldn’t catch my cold.”

“I see. Why’s he on the side closer to the wall though?” Parker saw that loophole in Jessica’s explanation as soon as he heard what she had to say but resisted the urge to spring up and concede and beg for Hunter’s forgiveness. He didn’t really have a choice but to rely on Jessica, a decision that turned out to pay off.

“Well, he was heavy, so I had to use my entire body to get him onto the bed, which ended up with him being on the other side of me.” Parker couldn’t believe it. How calm Jessica and Hunter were despite how bad the situation must’ve looked—although maybe it didn’t look as bad from Hunter’s point of view, not knowing that the two of them were naked underneath the covers—but even more so, he couldn’t believe how believable Jessica’s response was. “What, did you think I was cheating on you with him? Or that Parker would take advantage of his best friend’s sick wife like that?”

Parker dared not even grit his teeth, as much as that teasing question made him want to stuff her mouth with a thick cloth. Although, honestly, Jessica might like that.

But what was more nerve-wracking was the following silence, a few seconds that felt like several eternities, resolving with Hunter’s chuckle and a statement, “Yeah, you’re right. I tried to imagine it and couldn’t even do that. He would never.” Parker let out an internal sigh of relief. Was it that Hunter was being naïve, or was it that Jessica was really that convincing? Parker didn’t know, nor did he care to know—all that he could hope for was that Hunter still hadn’t caught on. “Well, when Parker wakes up, tell him that lunch is on me. I gotta get back to work.”

“OK, love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that being his final words, he closed the door as signified by a final click! At the noise, Parker let out a more audible sigh of relief, Jessica turning around and smirking at him. “Hear that? You would never.”

“Jessica…”

“I mean, he’s right, though. If you had your way, I would’ve never been able to see your magnificent dick, much less fuck it as many times as I have already.”

“Speaking of—”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I mean—I mean, Hunter almost caught us twice.”

“But that’s what makes it fun! That made me so wet, come back inside me and see for yourself.”

He knew that he should just get it over with, but for whatever reason, that brief interruption completely drained all his motivation to do so. “I really…”

“Come oon, my slutty little pussy is getting cold and lonely without your hot, thick cock inside it,” she whined, closing the distance and grabbing Parker’s hand, grinding her ass against Parker’s erection.

He could feel his dick twitch in excitement, but the guilt pounding at his brain overwhelmed the lust. “Hunter was so trusting of me, and I’m here fucking his wife…”

“Aww, you really are a great friend, aren’t you?” Jessica’s playful demeanor subsided and was replaced with a genuinely concerned voice, “Don’t think of it like that then. You can just think of me as the bad guy and yourself as the victim. Because, I mean, you sort of are.”

Parker just scoffed at that. Honestly, in the past few weeks, he had been griping with the notion that he was technically a victim of rape, as weird as it sounded considering he was a guy, talking about a girl that was, well, ‘raping’ him. It went against all his preconceived notions of the word but knew it to be true. However, that wasn’t even the thing that made Parker scoff. “Then isn’t it a bit weird for a ‘rapist’ to console her ‘victim’?”

“Don’t word it like that!”

“Then what would you call it?”

“I would say, ‘adventuring partner’.”

“That’s—”

“Enough, my pussy isn’t going to fuck itself. Come on, quickly.”

 Parker sighed, although the brief exchange did make him feel a little better about the whole situation somehow and acquiesced with her demand. He quickly found out that Jessica’s claim did have merit; despite having been inside her just minutes ago, Parker found considerable difficulty in pushing his entire length back inside Jessica’s hot hole.

“Mmph, fuck, you’re stretching my naughty little cunt so much,” Jessica groaned, her hips rotating slowly, easing herself onto Parker’s cock. “God, you feel so much bigger…”

“You really are an attention-seeking slut.” The words were mostly spoken out of frustration than lust, his words reflecting a fraction of his true thoughts. “You almost get caught cheating by your husband, and your pussy’s response is to get tighter?”

“Fuck, yes, I’m such a cock-addicted cumwhore,” Jessica moaned, her walls contracting even more in response to Parker’s dirty talk.

“Do you love the idea of risking your marriage just for some dick so much? Do you love feeling my cum blasting your pussy walls with semen so much? Next thing you know, you’ll want me to fuck you while Hunter’s watching. Is that what you want? Feeling your pussy stretched wide open by my cock while your loving, caring husband watches on in both parts betrayal and lust?”

“Fuck … fuck, Parker…” Jessica’s words becoming more and more of a jumbled mess, a slight yelp escaping her lips as Parker’s cock brushed the entrance to her infertile womb. Jessica’s hands, massaging her own tits and pinching and squeezing her own nipples, were slowly replaced with Parker’s, who used the leverage to increase the force and speed of his thrusts. With his orgasm coming at a rapid pace, Parker abandoned all inhibitions and wildly chased the euphoric high, disregarding even the increased volume of Jessica’s plump ass striking Parker’s cleanly shaven crotch at every stroke, until he let out a final warning grunt before burying his cock deep inside the wanton women’s core, a second load of thick, white substance splashing fiercely against Jessica’s womb.

Jessica’s hands came to her mouth, muffling the yelping moaning sound that her body was uncontrollably creating in response to Parker’s orgasm, the second dumping of semen inside her bringing the seductress closer to the edge. Jessica let Parker ride out his orgasm, so it came to a surprise to her to feel him continuing to thrust inside her despite being spent.

“Parker, you can stop.”

“You-you didn’t cum yet.”

A smile found its way onto Jessica’s lips, patting the back of Parker’s hands, still attached to her breasts, saying, “It’s OK. Get off the bed.”

Parker almost couldn’t believe it. Was Jessica letting him go this quickly?

“Thank god.”

The words escaped his lips as he reached over to grab his clothes, Jessica wordlessly letting Parker put his clothes on and climb out of the bed over her. However, his gradually building hopes were quickly dashed the moment he climbed off the bed, Jessica grabbing his hand and saying, “Kneel at the edge of the bed, and eat me out.”

“No.”

There was no way. This—this—surely was where Parker had to draw the line. Fucking Jessica while Hunter was on a business trip? Fine, he couldn’t possibly catch them in the act. Fucking Jessica while separated by a non-soundproof apartment wall? Fine, just don’t make any noise. Fucking Jessica inside a bathroom while Hunter was enjoying a meal at the table, potentially sitting on the very chair they were having sex just minute ago? Fine, at least Hunter had to open the door. Fucking Jessica in her shared bed with Hunter while Hunter was just a few doors away? Fine, at least there were still a few barriers of separation (the door and the blanket), not to mention that they could separate if either of them noticed Hunter coming.

But eating Jessica out while in plain view, of everything, with Parker’s ability to detect Hunter compromised?

“There’s no way. We’ll get caught. I can’t do this.”

Jessica flung the covers off, her nude body revealing itself in all its glory. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to finish myself—”

“Fine, OK? Fine.” Parker could feel his heartbeat in his ears as his panic spiked yet again, Jessica’s triumphant grin only making him curse himself at his own powerlessness.

The sly Asian woman retreated back underneath the covers, Parker mentally preparing himself and kneeling at the edge of the bed. “You better be on edge for Hunter, though.”

“Oh, I will. I mean, I have a stake in this as well you know; if Hunter ever finds out, we’ll never be able to do this again, after all.”

Despite the actual words that came out of her mouth, the confident tone Jessica used reassured him enough to get him to start focusing on the task at hand. Under the thick covers of the blanket, he could see Jessica spread her legs a little, shortly after a hand lifting the covers at waist-level. He could just about feel the musky heat of lust emanating from the peephole into the darkness, took a final deep breath, and burrowed his head into it.

He was immediately met with an invisible barrier of heat as his vision lowered to almost nothing. The only thing he could see was a vague outline of Jessica’s slim legs, but Parker felt barely able to keep his eyes open at the wave of warmth his face was submerged inside, as if his head was submerged inside a thick, viscous soup but with none of the wetness. “Shit…” Parker murmured, his hands on the outside gripping the bedsheets more tightly as he pushed through, letting Jessica loop her leg around his head as it neared her womanhood.

Almost all senses disappeared except for his sense of touch which was completely enveloped in Jessica’s body heat radiating from her hot core, and when his face finally made contact with her wet folds, a sweet, sticky wetness on his lips. Jessica shivered, biting back a moan, her legs tightening around Parker’s head, the growing sensation of orgasm reigniting inside her.

“Oh, fuck…” Jessica’s lustful moans and sighs and whimpers went largely unnoticed by Parker, mostly because he couldn’t hear them as the tight grip of Jessica’s legs on his head meant that his ears were being plugged by her velvety thighs. His hands soon joined his head underneath the covers for added stability, his tongue exploring the moist depths of Jessica’s warm cavern, the taste of her nectar flooding his senses. The more he continued, the wetter his face got, and the more anxious he started to feel: why couldn’t Jessica just cum already? Was Hunter going to catch them? Could he even wipe his face off in time if he did?

Parker tried to shove those thoughts away and focus only on Jessica, but it was damn near impossible. The feeling of her smooth thighs around his head, the shuddering of her body as he continued his assault on her nethers, the warmth of her pulsating pussy walls as his tongue glided along its sticky surface, none of it was enough to distract him from the imminent threat of Hunter. And it turned out to be a good thing as, just as Jessica’s orgasm spilled over the tipping point, her hands shot down and pushed his head away.

Parker immediately understood the intention, his heartrate shooting all the way back up, hastily grabbing the inside of the blanket and wiping his face before emerging from underneath the blanket mere seconds before the door opened back up.

“Oh, hey Parker, you’re awake.”

“Hey, sorry for falling asleep earlier—”

“No, I don’t wanna hear it. I’m sorry for making you take care of my wife after having such a busy day.” Parker just shrugged nonchalantly, hoping his acting was convincing enough. “Thanks again for agreeing to this.”

“Yeah, thanks Parker,” Jessica interluded, not a hint of the playful teasing tone Parker knew she desperately wanted to use, “I really owe you one.” Parker could imagine the teasing grin on her face Jessica would be wearing if they were alone, but knew he had no choice but to play along.

“No problem, really. In fact, this was a nice excuse to take some PTO from work. Also,” Parker turned fully around, standing up and looking at Hunter, “sorry for falling asleep on the bed. I heard about what Jessica did for me and I appreciate it, but I just wanted to—”

“No no no, don’t apologize for that. Are you trying to make me sound like the bad guy, demanding an apology for falling asleep after overworking yourself last night? If you need to sleep, go back to your apartment and take a nap, I don’t want to bother you.”

This was it. This had to be the chance Parker was looking for. The one benefit of Hunter’s proximity and constant check-ins was that he could give Parker an excuse to leave Jessica before she was willing.

“Thanks—” Almost as soon as Parker opened his mouth, he heard Jessica shift on the bed behind him. That one sound, a seemingly innocuous action from the wedded woman, triggered a vision of sorts, imagining Jessica threatening to throw off the covers should he leave. Although Jessica didn’t explicitly state it, the fact that he strongly believed Jessica would do so and the fear that she would caused him to change his mind mid-sentence. “—but I think I’m good. I might just need some food in me, but I can always just go to bed early today.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I got this.”

Hunter nodded graciously. “I really owe ya one, Parker. How about lunch, on me? What do you feel like eating?”

“You don’t need to—”

“I insist.” Hearing those words, Parker knew there was no more arguing with him. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Hm … how about Panera Bread? They also sell soup that Jessica can eat, right?”

“Good thinking; the usual for you?”

“Yep.”

Hunter soon after left the room after announcing his imminent departure, and it wasn’t until the pair heard the door of the residence close that Jessica broke out into another smile. “You know, I was half-debating whether or not to let you finish me off anyway and see if I could explain it away.”

“Are you serious?”

Parker’s words, while initially in response to Jessica’s admission, could also be applied to her pushing aside the blanket and bringing herself to a sitting position. Parker diverted his gaze, unwilling to look at her naked body if he could help it. “Finish me off with your dick.”

 “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trying to cum with your veiny cock stuffed deep inside my pussy.”

“What-what if Hunter comes back home?”

“Well, we’ll be able to hear it, but why would he? And I don’t need much, come inside and see for yourself how much wetter and tighter I got,” she said with a playful grin on her face, the last part of the sentence spoken in a sing-song teasing manner.

Parker cursed to himself and turned back to face Jessica, seeing her legs splayed at an obtuse angle and her glossy pink slit clearly visible, her upper body leaning back slightly, supported by her arms, her tits raising and falling with the motion of her breath, her nipples noticeably still erect. While her body was definitely to die for, the sexiest thing about everything was the confident expression on her face and the proud way she displayed her body to him.

“I’m limp.”

Jessica pursed her lips, her eyes falling on his bulge—or rather, its noticeably diminished size. “Well, that’s no good, is it?” Jessica sat up straight and leaned forward, her luscious boobs now hanging more freely off her chest. “Come here, take off your pants and let me help you.”

“I just put them on…” Parker muttered, shuffling forward and pulling them down regardless. He left them pooled at his feet just in case and stopped when his now growing erection was within easy touching distance of the salacious woman.

“Mmm, such a good boy, you’re so happy to see me, aren’t you?” Jessica cooed, her delicate fingers wrapping firmly around the circumference of his girthy member. Parker bit his lip, his legs tensing at the instinctive, primal feeling of pleasure and arousal surging through his body.

A smile befell Jessica’s face, giving it a few pumps for good measure before removing her fingers from his dick and to her chest. “Come closer,” she commanded Parker, who begrudgingly obeyed, and brought her voluptuous breasts to his hardening shaft and enveloped it with the soft sags of flesh.

“Shit,” the curse word naturally fell out of Parker’s mouth, hissing in pleasure as the warmth and pressure from the motion caused another surge of arousal.

“You like that? You like feeling my tits smothering your cock like that?” Jessica teased Parker, grinning as she rubbed the length of his cock with her boobs. Up and down, up and down … with each stroke, Parker could feel his embarrassment raising in parallel with his dick, until its tip escaped the warm confines of Jessica’s cleavage, poking out above it. “Mmm, there it is,” she cooed again, her face drawn to the tip of Parker’s cock oozing with precum.  Without much of a warning, she stuck her tongue out and lapped up the fluid, giving it a few more kisses before releasing it. “There, now you’re ready to go.” Jessica shifted back into her original leaned-back position, her legs spreading out to reveal the glistening slit similarly oozing with her own precum.

Parker simply looked at it, then Jessica’s eager expression, before sighing. “Fuck,” he muttered again, knowing he didn’t really have a choice. He grabbed Jessica’s legs and captured it in the crook of his elbow, angling her entrance upwards, using one hand to guide his cock while the other made way for it. As he neared it, he could once again feel the heat radiating from the sex organ, but didn’t give himself much time to feel it, instead choosing to plunge into the depths of Jessica’s vagina.

“Hmm, fuck…” Jessica moaned, her back arching and her eyes closing, her legs wrapping around his arms, tensing at the feeling of the thick phallic object penetrating her yet again.

Although he never really wanted to know, Parker soon found out that indeed, Jessica was right; somehow, she had gotten even tighter, so much so that he was having pushing himself inside, even with gravity on his side. “Fuck, it’s so tight,” Parker found himself muttering, gritting his teeth as he struggled past Jessica’s vaginal walls fiercely hugging his cock, slathering it anew with her juices, all the while Jessica unleashing a chorus of erotic moans and sighs and strings of dirty talk.

“Fuck me, god, your cock, it’s stretching me so much, holy fuck you feel so big, god I can’t believe how fucking good this feels, god I’m such a slut for enjoying the cock of my husband’s best friend…”

Parker’s mouth remained shut, only emitting the occasional groans and grunts, finding it necessary to pull out and push back in many times before he finally felt his balls making contact with Jessica’s ass. “Fuck, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to do this when you’re this tight.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m so fucking close, oh god, I want to cum all over your dick so badly, Parker, please…”

Parker took in another deep breath, recuperating his strength before resuming, extracting his cock halfway before slamming it back inside. “Oh fuck! More!”

Parker obliged, gritting his teeth while pulling his dick out until only about a third remained inside her, bracing his knees against the edge of the mattress before pistoning the rest of his length back inside. Jessica’s sexually-charged moans continued, urging Parker to go faster and deeper with each thrust, culminating in a final few, barely coherent words streaming out of her mouth followed closely by an ecstatic scream, her voice fully unleashed now that Hunter was no longer in the vicinity. The orgasm wracking her body, rending her unable to do anything but shake violently atop Parker’s cock, flooding it with wave after wave of the sticky substance from her core. Her arms eventually gave way, her upper body collapsing onto the bed with her tits bouncing slightly at the motion, her panting barely steadying even after her orgasm subsided.

“Fuck, that was good.”

Parker took that as a sign that he could pull out, reaching down to pull up his pants despite the lust that built up from the fucking. “I can go now, right?”

“Nuh uh,” she sang, sitting back into an upright position, jumping off the bed and grabbing his hand. “You didn’t cum yet, and I’m not about to blue ball you like that.”

Caught by surprise, Parker’s grip of his pants vanished, stumbling out of the pool of clothing left at the feet of the bed. “Wait, my pants—”

“Panera Bread’s far away; if Hunter hasn’t returned by now because he forgot something, he won’t for a good amount of time.” Jessica was surprisingly flippant about something that had the potential to be so incriminating, but it was in part because she was so flippant that reassured Parker. “It was nice of you to recommend soup for me to Hunter, but I think I know another kind of soup that would make me feel better.”

Parker nearly burst out into laughter from that, even as Jessica guided him to sit atop the toilet with its lid down. “You sound like a porn actress.”

“Oh, that’s an idea. Do you want to do a porn shoot?” The smile quickly faded from Parker’s face. “I’ve heard of places that let people do them anonymously, like with a mask over both people’s faces and whatnot. You just set up an appointment and they pay you up front with money, and then you just fuck in front of a camera for a bit. What do you think?”

“And you really think I would agree to that?”

“Hmm…” Jessica hummed, kneeling down, her warm hands landing on his legs and gently rubbing his upper thighs. “…yeah, I think you would. It sounds fun, doesn’t it?”

“Do that with Hunter, not me.”

Jessica pouted, parting his legs slightly and inserting herself into the space between, her hands closing in on his erect cock. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re—… you are so messed up.”

Jessica simply giggled, her gaze shifting away from his eyes to his cock, her palms pressing flush against the length of his cock, her slim digits wrapping around them firmly. Parker swallowed a moan, his arms balled up in fists at his sides, pushing down on the toilet lid as if trying to break it. “I’ll look for one and let you know when I find it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Well, you have no one to blame but yourself for this. You were the one who gave me the idea, after all.”

“I didn’t—fuck,” the swear word tumbled out of Parker’s already opened mouth as Jessica suddenly dove down, pressing her tongue against the base of his member and running it all the way up to the tip, giving it a loving kiss. “Wait, Jessica—I might have to pee.”

“Nice try.”

“No, I’m serious!”

Jessica pondered for a brief moment before shrugging. “Well then, do it inside my mouth. I’m fine being your personal pee and cum dumpster.”

“What the fuck are you—agh, fuck!” Again, the swear flew out of Parker’s open mouth as Jessica dove straight down onto his pulsating erection.

Jessica was relentless, taking half of it inside her mouth in one stroke. Her hands were planted at the base of the reproductive organ, her soft, pink lips caressing the perimeter of his cock, her tongue resting on the underside of the oblong object lodged inside her mouth. She let out a guttural moan, the reverberations being sent onto Parker’s dick, him jumping at the sensation.

Parker’s eyes were trained fiercely on their connection, barely watching her head retreating and Jessica taking another deep breath through the nose before impaling her throat with the phallic object. “Fuck … Jessica, please, just let me pee first at least…”

Hearing the words, Jessica’s head tilted upwards, her smiling eyes meeting his. A playfully teasing expression sat on her face, in stark contrast to the girthy length of his penis sitting atop her tongue, sitting so deep inside her mouth that it nearly touched her uvula. The pure amativeness of seeing the sexy woman at his crotch, her lips now two-thirds of the way down his rod made Parker briefly forget about his body’s urge to release a nonsexual liquid.

Maintaining eye contact the entire time, Jessica’s head came back up his cock, another shudder running across Parker’s body, before quickly plunging down. A faint gagging noise could be heard as Jessica’s throat flexed impressively to compensate for the intrusive object, a tear running down Jessica’s cheek but the smile never leaving her eyes.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the lustful grunt escaping his lips. His hands clenched into a tighter fist, the muscles in his limbs similarly tensing, watching the adulterous woman’s head bob up and down his shaft, slowly making her way down.

The small, echoey room was soon filled with sounds of Jessica’s hums of pleasure, gagging noises as her mouth attempted to take in more and more of his cock, and the occasional grunts and groans from Parker. In his peripheral vision, he could barely see Jessica’s voluptuous tits swaying with her every motion, pushing against the side of the toilet with every downward stroke. She shook her shapely romp playfully, as if a dog wagging its tail in joy, all the while squeezing Parker’s cock in the warm, tight confines of her gradually expanding mouth.

“Mmm, your cock tastes as good as I remembered,” Jessica said after briefly coming up for air. But before Parker could comment, Jessica dove right back down, her right hand sneaking behind her body, impaling her pussy with two fingers while Parker’s cock impaled her mouth.

“Shit,” Parker grimaced, the desire to pee and the desire to cum now equal in strength. As Jessica advanced further and further down his cock, the desire only built, the combined, faint squishing noises of her slim digits thrusting in and out of the same hole that was previously occupied by the object now lodged deep inside her mouth only making it worse. When Jessica finally reached the base of his cock, with no lack of somehow extremely sexy gagging noises, she let his cock sit inside her throat, her lips firmly wrapped around his girth and her tongue resting firmly against his shaft. Her eyes, which had turned downward as she focused on taking his entire length, now turned upwards and broke out into another smile upon meeting Parker’s gaze. She shook her ass playfully again, demonstrating the ease at which she could hold his penis so far down her throat, barely a sign of struggle present on her face.

After a few seconds, Jessica’s head came back up a few inches before summarily dropping back down to the base, slurping noises now joining the chorus of gagging noises filling the shared bathroom of the wedded couple. Parker grunted, his leg muscles tensing even harder, his toes curling in an attempt to hold back the overpowering flood of whatever was inside him, something that only got harder with every bob of her head, Jessica now uncontrollably slobbering all over his member, drool trickling out of the corner of her mouth. With one hand gently caressing his balls and one hand furiously pumping now every finger of her right hand inside her pussy, Jessica’s blowjob increased in intensity to an absolutely wild degree.

“Fuck, Jessica—!” That was all the warning Parker could give before that tension abruptly broke all at once, a stream of bodily fluid pouring straight into the wanton woman’s esophagus. Jessica’s throat flexed impressively once again, somehow not missing a single beat in swallowing every drop of cum, or piss, as it shot into the back of her throat. Parker felt a shudder overtake his body’s motor controls, riding out his orgasm with his cock buried deep inside Jessica’s mouth, sighing and slumping against the toilet back after it subsided.

Jessica’s head came back up Parker’s softening erection, her left hand catching the stray trails of saliva on her cheeks while the right rubbed her juices off on her tits, the pillowy skin giving way to her hand. “Mmm, I’m feeling better already,” she sang happily, looking at a Parker who was avidly avoiding her gaze in embarrassment and regret. “You can pee now if you want.”

“…That’s the thing. I don’t need to do that anymore.”

Seeing Parker’s forlorn expression, Jessica couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you acting so embarrassed about? I told you that I was willing to swallow your pee too.”

“But—why? That’s disgusting!”

“Mmm, well it was a little saltier than usual, but it still tasted great,” she noted, shrugging, “I don’t mind.”

Parker sighed, his shoulder slumping. “Fuck, I’m sorry…”

“Aww, does my little baby feel bad for using mommy as his own personal urinal?” she cooed, scooting back up to him and placing her heavy rack on his lap, directing them to his slowly softening erection. “Don’t worry baby, mommy is always willing to swallow anything that comes out of my baby’s precious cock.”

“Stop talking like that, please.”

“You say that, but I think your friend thinks otherwise,” Jessica said, watching in delight as the softening penis did a full 180 at the feeling of Jessica’s makeshift titjob.

“No, no more,” Parker replied, cursing the stamina he had developed from all the long, arduous sex sessions he had been having with Jessica.

Jessica pouted. “One more.”

“Please, I’m drained…”

The sly woman grinned, standing up and grabbing Parker’s hand, leading him back into the bedroom, singing, “We’ll see about that~”

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[intheholler]

brought up in the rolling hills of greater appalachia, there were scarce times, there were good times, and there were rough times. just like anywhere else. but at all times there was hope and community, no matter the circumstance.

as many negative things as i hear about the place i live and as many experiences i have had that align with such criticisms, there were a thousand more instances where i was blessed with an enchanting, community enriched childhood. i will never forget or under-appreciate the closeness of neighbors despite our long lengths from one another.

what i mean to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

my Daddy is a pastor and my Mama the most down to earth pastor’s wife to walk this sweet, dark-soiled land we are so blessed to live on. even though my father and i don’t always get along, my mother and i are and will forever be the most kindred of spirits. through her wit, her will, and her wisdom, many traditions of appalachia have been passed down to me.

your porch ceiling best be haint blue, and you had better never close another person’s pocket knife. always gift a hand-quilted or crocheted blanket at every baby shower you ever attend. sprinkling salt at every doorway while squeaking out a hushed and hastened prayer for protection.

even those are just a few traditions that i can credit to my culture and my mother who instilled it in me. and that installation is so incredibly important. so as not to lose our rich, beautiful, and complex history.

the first rumblings, the soft spot

an important experience that i would argue helps many appalachian children to realize their culture and heritage is when they, for the first time, listen in to the kitchen talk among cousins. how Papaw can’t read so well because he never got to finish up school and why Uncle Rick got this new job manufacturing cars. how Meemaw lost her baby to scarlett fever and how Miss Deretta down the road worked at the children’s home where your cousin Thomas got dropped off in a cardboard box after a flood that demolished the apartments uptown. slowly, piece by piece, your young mind starts to understand the ebb and flow of unspoken community support. the gentle hand holding taking place through the entire mountain range. the interwoven families that aren’t any kin.

running interference

as you grow up, unfortunately, the world seeps in, slow and clever as a fox in the hen house. making your own out to be some sort of gnawing hillbilly that don’t know their ass from grass. and suddenly when someone asks where you’re from you’re ashamed to admit it. the only thing that you and friends talk about is getting out and seeing new places, away from the parents and the gossip pew of your respective churches. on friday night you all meet up in the Dollar General parking lot and carpool to your school’s football game so that you can shout wildly inappropriate cheers at the rival of the night from the student section. you run into Mrs Connor while washing your hands in the restrooms behind the stadium and when she tells you vibrant stories of your Pa in high school, skipping for deer hunting season along with half of the class of ‘68, you appreciate her. and you don’t know it, but every interaction like that, grows your mountain heart bigger, making more room for story after story.

one of my friends is now engaged to the man who was their starting quarterback. the two of them are the sweetest of couples. the world is perfectly small here.

weeks-long revival and a singing every night

after an innocent turned passionate kiss in your church crush’s car, you find space on the pew with the rest of your youth group, leaving room for jesus, of course. Aneoumes (an-nay-mus, unique name, i know) the church Dulcimer player brings out his fine jnstrument with Mrs Dorothy, the pianist and the previously mentioned Mrs Connor on the organ to do their own mesmerizing renditions of When the Roll is Called up Yonder, I’ll Fly Away, The Gloryland Way, Mansion Over the Hilltop, He Set me Free, Heaven’s Jubilee, and the baptist favorite, Amazing Grace making for a beautiful night of harmony among voices. anymore you weren’t sure what you believed (not that you dared to tell a soul, or even say it out loud) but you knew good and well that church brought people together and helped those in need, and both of those were things you could get on board with. of course the politics were messy, but you could mostly keep your lips sealed. your home church certainly did more to feed the hungry than the government officials who were supposedly all libbed up, or at least that is what they’d pushed.

suddenly, this place didn’t seem so bad. you were worn smack out but only because of the late company, which you certainly didn’t mind in exchange for a typical night of hot, early sleep. when you got home Todd Lee your neighbor was still cutting hay and so the putputput of his tractor lulled you off to sleep. he told you “it keeps the sugar in, seeing’s that it’s nice and cool out in the dark” he had told you when you let him know that his lively tractor sounds put you at peace every night.

something about this place felt more special, fonder, than what you had understood in your younger teen years.

the first leaving

your dad received a stimulus check during the pandemic and decided to go visit his aunt Barbara on the northeast coast. being away from home a whole week felt like a pig being gutted and packed, still warm in the patties. it was awful. every night you cried, holding your younger siblings who did the same, no one here smiled or talked to you and the rain didn’t smell right, the food was bland and blended all together in taste, worst of all there was nowhere to be that wasn’t covered in concrete and where there was, you had to pay for access. when the mountains finally came back into sight, your heart leaped and tears fell from your eyes. that moment was as close to divine intervention as you’d felt since your baptism. gratitude overwhelmed your senses and you thanked jesus for being born where you were. where people were friendly and food was good and friends were close and everything was wide open.

for a moment you wondered if when David wrote “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” if he too was experiencing the peace of returning home after a tumultuous time away.

the second leaving and the enthusiastic return

now, you’re headed off to college. it grips at your heart that you won’t be with the supportive community around you that you’ve always had. but this time the leaving makes sense. you’ll educate yourself on how to teach and help others, you’ll take extra, unnecessary classes on heritage and both cultural and natural history. upon your return you get to take all that hurt from being away and pour back into the place that has loved you so well. and you get to be the next generation to tell your own kiddos to keep the haints from their houses and their hands to the knives in their own pockets.

hopefully your loving will look a bit different, cast a wider net so that those kids who weren’t as lucky as you feel accepted in the community of people around them.

most importantly when you return with your degree and your license to teach, you can instill pride in those children, let them know that these lush hills and woods and creeks and mountains they call home really are some of the most wonderful places this world has to offer up. encourage them to believe that professional speaking is not removed from their dialect but rather in their clarity of conveyance. uplift the idea that time spent with family and friends, neighbors and strangers alike is to be valued. and most importantly in my book, teach them to appreciate the stories they are told, to remember them whether mentally or by doing some manual record keeping. our stories are our testaments to the fulfilling life that can be lived here. and the stories of our neighbor may have a great impact in our thinking.

what i’m trying to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

(i got totally carried away, sorry it’s so long)

.

[imtryingbuck]

Strange stranger

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Strange stranger

Summary: A strange woman catches the attention of Bucky

Word count: 960

Warnings: A duck is killed but not descripted other than that nothing

Masterlist

Day after day Bucky notices the woman who sits on the bench near the pond, she always has a little basket placed next to her, sometimes she swings her legs back and forth, sometimes she sits cross legged - just like today.

He finds her strange and ever so beautiful. Due to his super hearing, he can hear her talking to the ducks and swans then putting on a different voice when she answers herself. He will hear her sing ever so softly to herself sometimes. The strange stranger smiles at the strangers going past her, when she doesn’t receive one back she pulls a face at them, the faces she pulls always makes Bucky laugh.

Day after day Bucky’s curiosity about the strange girl grows more intense. And there’s this itch inside of him that wants to talk to her, but he doesn’t know how. Should he just go over and sit on the bench and hope she’ll talk to him? Should he just walk by her and say ‘hi’ - that should get the ball rolling right? It’s been roughly 6 months since he first saw her that sunshiny Tuesday morning. For 6 months he sees her everyday - unless he’s on a mission - and he yearns to talk to her, know her name.

~~~

It’s been 8 days since he saw her, he’s been on a mission. A mission he wished didn’t take 8 long excruciating days, he found himself lost in his own thoughts just thinking about her - wondering about what conversation she’d be having with the ducks and swans, wondering how many people gave her a smile after she gave them one first. 

On the ninth day he was up and out early already making his way to the park, he heads straight to where the pond and the strange girl sits. His heart stutters when he looks around the area and sees her usual bench empty.

“Looking for the girl?” A rough voice says from behind him - turning to see Malcom, another regular at the pond - when he nods, Malcom nods his head in the direction of the small wood area “She’s in there. It was a sad day for her yesterday.”

“W-what happened?”

“Something bad, just go over and see her. I’ll see you tomorrow my friend.”

Bucky nods and waves as his feet take him to the location where Malcom said she would be. As he makes his way through the bushes he sees the back of her, kneeling on the ground, he clears his throat making the woman on her knees turn her head.

“You scared me Mr leather” she shoots him a small sad smile. He hates it. The only smile he has ever seen on her beautiful face is the one of happiness.

“I’m sorry. And Mr leather?” His eyebrow cocks up.

“I don’t know your name and you’re always wearing that leather jacket” wiping the soil off her hands on her jeans “I didn’t know Malcom’s name for a very long time, so I called him Mr Moustache - you know because of his moustache?” Her hands gesturing to her mouth.

“Oh” oh really Bucky? “Malcom said something bad happened. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Something bad did happen Mr leather. I was here yesterday, and I was feeding the duckies and swans when this man came over who I’ve never seen before and grabbed one of the duckies and-and he killed him. Right in front of me. There was no need for it mr, no need. Mr Green didn’t deserve it he was so nice” The look of pure heartbreak is written all over her face, the tears that roll down her cheeks breaks his heart. How on earth anyone could harm or kill an innocent duck leaves him completely baffled. And the fact that she had named this duck made him angrier than he already was. 

“And I haven’t seen you in a long time and i was sad because I thought you had gone to the other park that apparently is better than this one and then what happened to Mr Green and the police didn’t do anything because the man ran off and I just finished making the cross for Mr Greens grave, see. Malcom helped me dig the hole yesterday. Mr Green would have liked you to of been at his funeral but he would understand if you prefer the other park now” For 6 months he truly believed she never noticed him yet she had, she had given him a bizarre name but a name nonetheless, she was even sad about not seeing him for just over a week. She really thought he had gone to a different park and that’s why he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there’s to protect her and Mr Green from this sicko. He should have been there.

“Doll I am sorry I wasn’t there, I had to work. I’m so sorry about what happened to Mr Green, I should have been there to of stopped it” Stepping closer he knelt next to her to get a better look at the cross she had made “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for his funeral”.

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to be sorry mr leat-“

“It’s Bucky, my names Bucky.”

“Bucky” hearing her trying his name makes his pulse quicken.

“I’m Y/n”

~~~

Months have passed, the strange girl became a good friend of Bucky’s. Today like everyday for the past few months they’re sitting on the bench watching the ducklings play.

“Y/n I was wond-wondering if you maybe would like to go on a date…. with me?”

“I would love too.”

“Thankyou”

“Don’t need to thank me Mr Leather.”

“Ah funny”

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[greenthena]

The Eldritch Ball or Aziraphale's Macabre Danse

I'm a huge sucker for dark classical music (I'm using the term "classical" broadly, not referring to the specific period. Music-y folks, please forgive.) As such, Saint-Saëns's "Danse Macabre" is one of my all time favorite pieces. It's spooky. It's intentionally dissonant. It's even got a jump scare! Like, literally, the perfect piece of music.

The story behind "Danse Macabre" goes like this: Each Halloween at midnight, Death enters the graveyard with a fiddle. As he plays, the skeletons rise from the ground and dance through the cemetery, resurrected by Death's power and possessed by his instrument.

In S2 E3, the Bentley plays "Danse Macabre" as Aziraphale drives up to Edinburgh. "What do we do? We play classical music that stays classical music." (And the Bentley listens to him! Because the Bentley is an expression of Crowley's subconscious and wants to please him and make him happy...and I'm sure you can find lots of excellent metas to that end. Or maybe you have another theory about why the Bentley is so pliant toward the angel? I'd love to hear it. But that's not what I'm talking about right now. I'm just getting distracted.)

Why is this song so perfect for a bit of subtle foreshadowing and repeated metaphor? So glad you asked. I have reasons. And evidence. Please, peruse my wares.

In the A Plot of this episode, Aziraphale travels to Scotland to visit a pub called The Resurrectionist. (Ya know, like Death? Like how Death resurrects people in the song? Okay, just wanted to really hit that nail into the coffin.) The pub is, of course, named for a certain Mr. (not Dr., he's a surgeon) Dalrymple, whom Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the accompanying flashback minisode entitled (you'll never guess) "The Resurrectionist." The minisode plot involves Crowley and his the angel encountering young Elspeth, a grave robber who, like Death, releases the bodies of the deceased from their earthly bonds of soil and stone. My interpretation is that Elspeth becomes Death incarnate, first in the process of using her instrument (her shovel) to resurrect the dead, and later when she inadvertently brings about the literal death of her partner, Wee Morag. Rather than allow Wee Morag's body to turn to dust in the ground, Elspeth "resurrects" her, selling her body to Dr. Dalrymple (sorry, Mr. Dalrymple, he's a surgeon, not a doctor), who will use Wee Morag's body for research, which will in turn save the lives of countless others by furthering the field of medicine. A form of resurrection, indeed. There's also the plot thread of Crowley and Aziraphale providing Elspeth with a nest egg to escape the cycle of poverty into which she has been born. This, too, is another form of re-birth. Or, say it with me, resurrection. Alright, you're getting it now.

Okay, now I get to delve into the fun stuff. Let's talk about that cotillion ball, shall we? You know, that danse party where Aziraphale persuades all the shopkeepers on Whickber street to attend a Jane Austen-style ball?

I personally refer to this whole fiasco experience as the Eldritch Ball. On the surface, it seems fairly innocent. The shopkeepers need a little bit of encouragement to attend the Whickber Street monthly meeting, but the angel manages to convince everyone to join with the help of some coercion-via-bribery. When they show up, they're transmuted into Austen-esque characters, from their clothes, to their speech patterns, even to some extent, their perception of reality. This is where it starts to get a little uncomfortable if you peel back the layers. Mrs. Sandwich can't talk about what she does for a living, which is a great comedy bit, but also demonstrates that her speech is being significantly censored and altered by an outside force. With the exception of Mr. Brown (hidden agendas here, Neil? I honestly don't know), all the shopkeepers find themselves in new, slightly-period-appropriate garments. What's really weird, though, is that no one notices the changes. When the dancing begins, to the music of Mr. Anderson's piano and an accompanying string quartet (strings...as in violins...as in fiddles. Remember Death's fiddle?), Nina appears to be the only one who realizes that something is off.

Maggie: This is something new.

Nina: This is something completely bonkers. Are we...? Why is everyone talking like they've escaped from Pride and Prejudice?

Maggie: Just getting into the spirit of things, I suppose.

Nina: The spirit of what things? This is meant to be the shopkeeper association monthly meeting.

Maggie: Hmm. Yes. Now that you put it like that...

Nina: Are we dancing?

Maggie: Yes.

Nina: Did you ever learn the steps to this dance?

Maggie: It's just what we do, isn't it?

Nina: No. No, it isn't. This is something mad. This is their [Crowley & Azirapahle's] fault. They're doing this.

Something is definitely mad. One might even say it's macabre. Aziraphale has become Death the Resurrectionist. He has lured the shopkeepers of Whickber Street through a portal (as Death leads his flock from the world of the dead to the world of the living.) Aziraphale's instrument is his clipboard and pen, held almost as one might hold a fiddle and bow, as he invites the various shopkeepers to the monthly meeting. Once they all arrive, he miraculously gives them new clothes (as Death knits together the bones of the dead), and then proceeds to control their bodies and minds, as though they are merely marionettes. They dance and speak in the way Aziraphale imagines, fulfilling his fantasy of a perfect Jane Austen-style ball (quite literally, the Danse Macabre.)

The shopkeepers have become the dead and Aziraphale controls them until the spell is broken--or rather until the window is broken.

To be honest, I don't think Aziraphale is really aware of how much he is able to transfigure his environment, including the humans who happen to be close by. Or, at least, I don't believe he does any of this with ill intent. He's just a bit blind to anything outside his fixation of wooing Crowley, at the moment. As a result, he creates a situation that is profoundly problematic and unnatural. Just like the dead in the graveyard have no agency when Death plays his fiddle, the Whickber Street shopkeepers are possessed by Aziraphale's intricate romantic fantasy and must dance as long as the music plays.

It is, in fact, only when the music stops, that the shopkeepers begin to realize that something is most certainly weird. The diagetic music (Mr. Anderson & Co.) abruptly cuts off when an approaching demon horde tosses a brick through the bookshop window. Now the spell, or in this case, miracle, begins to break down. While the shopkeepers still appear to be somewhat under the influence of Aziraphale's persuasive aura, a few of them glance down at their clothes in confusion and look around the bookshop, as though waking from a dream. And at this point, after a little finagling, Crowley escorts the humans out of the bookshop and out of Aziraphale's Danse Macabre.

Once the demons attack the bookshop Aziraphale's influence on his surroundings really starts to deteriorate. Throughout the season, he's been able to structure and manipulate reality (sometimes with Crowley's help) to suit his needs: protecting Gabriel, altering the Bentley, organizing the Ball, etc. But once the bookshop, his safe space, has been breached, he loses control of the situation. From this point in the narrative, nothing goes according to Aziraphale's plan. Aziraphale wants to protect Jimbriel, but the former archangel insists on giving himself over to the demons. Crowley leaves and Aziraphale has to defend the bookshop on his own, when he'd expected Crowley to come right back and save him. While defending the bookshop, Aziraphale reaches his "last" resort not once, but twice: first allowing Nina and Maggie to use his books (!!!) as weapons and then blowing up his halo in a last ditch effort to fend off the invaders. This was not on the agenda for today!

Things just continue to go downhill from there, Aziraphale losing all control of the situation. And by the time the Final Fifteen wraps up, the angel has lost his bookshop and possibly his most important relationship. By the end of the season, Aziraphale is no longer Death the Resurrectionist, the manipulator and puppeteer. Now the angel has become the puppet, dancing to Heaven's music.

[odinsblog]

We Should Say It. Russia Is Fascist.

“It’s not the first time Ukraine has been the object of fascist war. The conquest of the country was Hitler’s main war aim in 1941. Hitler thought that the Soviet Union, which then ruled Ukraine, was a Jewish state: He planned to replace Soviet rule with his own and claim Ukraine’s fertile agricultural soil. The Soviet Union would be starved, and Germany would become an empire. He imagined that this would be easy because the Soviet Union, to his mind, was an artificial creation and the Ukrainians a colonial people.

The similarities to Mr. Putin’s war are striking. The Kremlin defines Ukraine as an artificial state, whose Jewish president proves it cannot be real. After the elimination of a small elite, the thinking goes, the inchoate masses would happily accept Russian dominion. Today it is Russia that is denying Ukrainian food to the world, threatening famine in the global south.”

“… In 1939, the Soviet Union joined Nazi Germany as a de facto ally, and the two powers invaded Poland together. Nazi speeches were reprinted in the Soviet press and Nazi officers admired Soviet efficiency in mass deportations.

But Russians today do not speak of this fact, since memory laws make it a crime to do so. World War II is an element of Mr. Putin’s ahistorical myth of Russian innocence and lost greatness — Russia must enjoy a monopoly on victimhood and on victory. The basic fact that Stalin enabled World War II by allying with Hitler must be unsayable and unthinkable.”

(continue reading)

[jeonstellate]

spaces between us

you never want to cross paths with seungcheol again but, as it seems, the universe has other plans.

๑彡 choi seungcheol x afab!reader

๑彡 secret baby!au, post-break up!au — angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from one direction’s spaces (whose lyrics fit the ‘past’ that led to this story, albeit it was not explicitly told here).

๑彡 this is quite impulsive, actually. i was reading through my old fics in my drive a couple days ago && thought i can tweak this one a bit to change the ml . . .

You were surrounded by an enormous amount of cuddly plushies and breakable action figures. Everywhere you looked, your eyes would land on a face you grew up watching. Every single character played an important role in your childhood, whether you admired them or not. As far as your younger self was concerned, you were in heaven.

But then . . . you weren’t.

In the flood came — strong, unwavering, and without any warning.

All you could see was smoky quartz. Dark and light all at once. Akin to whiskey and honey whenever there was an eternal sun shining upon them, addicting and melting you right in. You could hardly believe that there was a time when they were utterly comforting to you, instead of just reminding you of a seemingly endless pain.

You had always appreciated the color brown. It was the color of soil — where life always had a chance to begin. It was the color of cocoa, too — a main ingredient in making the world sweeter. For you specifically, it symbolized a never-ending list of possibilities and opportunities.

Then, there came a time when the color itself signified something else entirely. It promised a happily ever after you never purposely sought, but was granted by the heavens anyway. It promised to cherish and to love you always. It promised you forever, lasting until the end of time. With the hopeless romantic ideologies that surrounded you as you grow, you willingly believed in those promises.

Yet, apparently, forever only last for seven years.

Brown, as rich and magical as it would remain, had its enchantments fade. Promises were broken. Smiles were rare and deceptive. A home gradually turned into a mere flat. A shadow eventually turned into a ghost. Life, once full of animation, had become utterly silent and still. From that moment on, dark crystals signified neglect, abandonment, and . . . regret.

You did not think you would be able to forgive those morions, much less forget. Yet, with time, they began to symbolize hope; a new beginning.

You never meant for it to. But these new dark crystals were so pure . . . so innocent . . . and so full of life. They were everything you thought it would be, if that shade was given humane features. Rather instinctively, just as soon as you caught a glimpse of them for the very first time, you knew you must protect those gorgeous hues from any evil — and so you tried your best.

Despite being an exact replica of the former, you instantly loved the new smoky quartz with all your heart — even more than your own life.

Once the flood had calmed, you found yourself in a situation that you had been dreading for the past few years. You did not expect the inevitable encounter for at least several more years, thus not even the comfort of childhood assisted in composing your racing heart.

"Seungjae." You found it quite difficult to act indifferent around a presence you used to know so well. "Why don’t you explore the princesses’ section? Your Uncle Jonghyeon told me Sarang likes Mulan." It was not like you could blatantly ignore him, either. All you could do was get Seungjae as far away as possible in case a confrontation spark ablaze.

"Okay!" Seungjae was enthusiastic as always, just like any other toddler who never seemed to run out energy. They turned to the man next to them, an appreciative smile on their face, "Bye-bye now, Mr. Seungcheol, thank you!" They then turned back to you, holding out their hand, "Let’s go?"

"I’ll follow you in a minute, love, okay?"

"Okay!" Seungjae remained oblivious on the thickening tension between the two adults. They walked away while dragging a plushie behind them by the ear — somewhat ecstatic to leave and explore on their own.

By the time the toddler was out of earshot, but still within your watchful eyes, you had finally settled on the best way to approach your current situation. "Thank you for helping Seungjae reach that plushie. Heaven knows what stunt they would’ve pulled just to reach it."

"[Nickname]," Seungcheol dismissed your gratitude, almost out of breath, "it’s been four years."

You did not quite appreciate how he easily dismissed your effort to keep your conversation civil, so you decided to quickly put him in his place. "Call me [First name], you lost the right to call me that when we—" You suddenly stopped yourself, realizing that it might catalyze something you were not mentally ready for. So, instead, you opted to redirect your chat in a more civil route, "How’s life treating you, Seungcheol?"

"How old are they?" Once again, he flat-out ignored you. As it seemed, while you were determined not to discuss what happened four years prior, that was the only topic he was interested in. "How— how old is Seungjae?"

You were left with no choice. If you answered, he would know, naturally. If you did not answer, he would still know, anyway. "They’re turning three this summer."

As confident his stance might have been, you watched it crumble in a millisecond after reality hit him with full force. "You should’ve— I should’ve—" When he regained enough of his senses, he seemed to realize that it was not a conversation you should be having in a children’s store. "We should probably talk elsewhere."

However stunned you were in seeing him so broken (something you had not witness in your seven years together), you were quick to dismiss him. "There’s nothing to talk about."

"[Nickname]—" Seungcheol instinctively grabbed onto your wrist when you began to walk away, but quickly dropped his hold when he realized that he might have crossed the line. "[First name]. Please."

You sighed. You did not plan on letting him off the hook easily (not that you thought of anything beforehand, anyway), but the fact that he did not even question the truthfulness of your words — like he still trusted you with all his heart . . . like he just knew that Seungjae could only be half of him — made you second guess your initial decisions.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . you would spare him from knowing your main reason for departing without a goodbye.

"I already forgave you."

[desswright29]

The Udaku’s (Half Crazy Finale)

Word Count: 11k

Contains: Mentions of blood, Mental illness, Violence, Torture, Gore, The darkest of dark Shuri, Smut (That’s all I can think of)

A/N: Proceed with caution. This story is a Thriller.

3 months ago at Tolu’s 

Shuri woke up in a cold sweat, head spinning. The only part of her body that was still under the covers was her left leg, as she lay on her belly. Something felt off. Suddenly, her body began retching as though it was rejecting something. Pain. That’s what was next. A stabbing pain that struck through her core, causing her to let out a sharp gasp, coming up on her hands and knees. She continued retching, followed by a gag, and then a cough. This pattern repeated itself until she felt something easing up her throat, the taste of blood began to permeate her tongue. Her eyes bulged in worry, her bandaged right hand coming up her mouth to prevent any mess on the bed underneath her. It was all she could do. She couldn’t move from the bed, her body was completely occupied with getting rid of whatever was inside of her.

The door flew open and Tolu rushed to Shuri’s side. “What the fuck is happening?!” Shuri couldn’t speak as her coughs, and gags became more aggressive as she felt something glide up her throat. It was closer now. Tolu shook as she froze in fear. A single drop of blood escaped Shuri’s mouth and rolled down her chin. “What the fuck.” She breathed. One last violent cough and heave shook Shuri’s body before she released a small clump of foreign object into her hand. She collapsed to the bed with a groan. To weak to move. Tolu squinted at the grotesque lump in Shuri’s hand something catching her eye. “Shuri. What the fuck is that!”

Shuri with her body still shaken. Slowly opened her groggy eyes. As her vision cleared her eyes landed upon her upright palm. Inside her hand lie a clumps of clotted blood that was surrounded by many very small bits of what appeared to be metal. Shuri’s eyes squinted  shivering at the sight.

“What. the fuck. is that…” She whispered

The boy took his horns from the thief, and went on his way. He came to a house, and asked to be entertained. The owner refused, and sent him away, because his clothes were in tatters, and his body soiled with travel.

“Udaku…..MRS. Udaku!”

“Your Majesty.”

“Queen SHURI Udaku! Answer immediately before I find you in contempt of COURT!”

Shuri snapped out of her thoughts, staring out into the courtroom. Her eyes landed on the side of the defendant. There Okoye, and Nakia sat. And in the last seat closes to the aisle there sat Tolu, Sunglasses perched upon her face, a walking stick leaning against her chair. For as long as Shuri had known her, Tolu had always been at her side. Unfortunately, that very loyalty was the cause of her ailment. 

Shuri sat upright, unbuttoning her blazer with one hand, before man-spreading and leaning back into the chair on the stand. Her jaw clenched as her right arm rested on the armrest, her thumb underneath her chin, and her pointer resting on her cheek. 

“In your countries justice sytem the protocol is innocent until proven guilty, am I correct?” She spoke cool toned, even, yet authoritative. Never could you misconstrue her as weak.

The courtroom was silent as Shuri’s eyes roamed the crowd. The other world leaders sitting around in judgement of her. A smirk slightly raises her left cheek. As she lets out a small menacing laugh. 

“Hm. Everyone in this room knows this is a witch hunt. America feels as though it finally has it’s opportunity to take down Wakanda and it’s recourses. You want my people to beg and bargain for the freedom of their leader. If this was about justice, your British counterparts would’ve been extradited years ago for the sex-trafficking ring that we’re all acutely aware of. The Israelis government would be on trail for the several war crimes they’ve been committing since before you all were born. Which is saying a lot since the bulk of you are well into your 60’s. We all know that there are much bigger Fish to fry here. But, You know… What is it that the children say in your country.” She looks around at everyone sitting up a little more in her seat as she looked from person to person. “Ah! Evil twin, Evil twin.”

“Mrs. Udaku! What point are you trying to make here!” Shuri’s head swung in the direction of the voice. Her eyes peircing through the elderly man. 

“MY POINT IS!  Mr. President… Is that I have not been found guilty. So you will respect my title and position as your worlds leader! My proper title is Queen Shuri Udaku, DAUGHTER of Romonda! The most powerful entity in this room!” Her eyes slowly left the visibly shaken man.

“It is best that you keep that in mind for the duration of this trail.” She relaxed back into her chair, giving her blazer a slight tug. “Now where were we….Double homicide and attempted murder. Eh” 

The day it happened

“Ride with me.” Shuri says as she holds the door open for you as you both rush out of the building. 

“Shuri, I’m aware of how to get to the palace. My ride is pulling up, and you know I have Teyana with me.” Shuri’s eyes darkened at the mention of her name. “Your little fling is not welcomed in my palace.”

“Shuri, cut the bullshit. She’s coming.” You roll your eyes as the both of your cars pull up to the front of the building. Shuri proceeds to argue with you. Teyana hopped out of the back of the car, her eyes immediately landing on Shuri as she held the door opened for you. Shuri’s face morphed into a glower, her eyelids lowering into slits, her mouth turned up into a scowl. She shot daggers into the woman with her eyes, and surprisingly, the girl didn’t back down. Teyana’s eyes met Shuri’s intense glare and matched it. 

“Is there a problem Princess?” The girl spoke. Your heart dropped a bit. Speechless, you turn your attention to Shuri prepared to take action. A flash of shock came over Shuri’s face, before humor. Her beautiful smile lightened her face reaching her eyes. The smile was genuine. And that scared you more than the anger you had expected. 

“Teyana huh?” Her voice came out dark and deep. A stark contrast to the smile on her face.  Her head shook from side to side as she turned to walk away, not before she pointed in Teyana’s direction shaking her finger. She glanced at you with a glimpse of mischievous in her eyes, sending shivers down your spine, and a pulse to your core. You watch as  she walks her walk, like only she can. Her stride strong and regal as she makes her way to her car.

You turn and strut to your own, sliding in, visibly disturbed by Shuri’s reaction. There was something familiar in her eyes that made your stomach churn, but you couldn’t quiet put your finger on it. As soon as Teyana slid into the car and shut the door, you turned to glare at her.

“What?” She turned to you feigning confusion. 

“What the fuck was that?!” 

“What was what?” Your eyes roll deep into the back of your skull. Frustration rising up into the flesh of your cheeks. “Oh my God! I can’t right now, I can’t with the bullshit!” You sit back blowing out a long exhale from your puffed cheeks.

“Y/n! I’m not a bitch!” You throw your hands up choosing to look out of the window to mask your frustration. “I’m not gonna sit here and let her intimidate me. She started with me. Looking at me like she wanted a problem!” Your head snaps around as you give Shuri an incredulous look. 

“She absolutely does want a problem Teyana! This is why I told you not to come! But since you insisted you were supposed to stay at Tolu’s and out of the way! She saw you get out of the car and now, YES! She wants a problem! You’re in HER country, with HER wife! Sit back! Shut up! And make it out safely!” 

Teyana chuckles. “Please! My father is friends with the President of the United States. She doesn’t scare me.” Your face becomes as serious as you can manage as you try to get her to heed your warning.

“Right now you are in Wakanda. You should have left that American sense of entitlement back there. Shuri is not just some ex to you while we’re here. She is the Queen. I suggest you keep that in mind.” Teyana, choosing to sit in her stubbornness, rolled her eyes sitting back as they pulled up to the citadel. 

Shuri stood waiting, hands crossed and resting infront of her body. The car comes to a stop, and Teyana immediately steps out to open the door for you once again. After you step out of the car the door shuts behind you and Teyana steps up beside you. Shuri raises a brow and you feel the dread spread throughout your body. 

“I’m not sure if your master informed you. But, you are not welcomed in my home.” Shuri didn’t move a muscle as she gave Teyana a once over. Teyana puffed out her chest prepared to show Shuri who she was. 

“Look, let’s get sumn straight. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Your majesty. You show me some respect. I’ll think about giving it to you. Either way I go where my girl goes.” Teyana took a step up, and Shuri continued to stand in her power, her mouth downturned and eyebrows raised, amused.

“Ooou Fiesty. You must have a thing for that, Sthandwa?” Shuri said, looking your body over before her eyes connected with yours. The intensity behind them sent shockwaves through your body, and you quickly turned your head from her. Shuri Tsked, “Ah, I see why your little friend here has so much to prove. Look at the way your body still reacts to me. Are you sure you know what to do with her Tempnada? All that mouth doesn’t seem to be helpful in the bedroom.”  You could see steam come from Teyana’s ears, prepared to say the first thought that came to mind.

“Man fuck you! You orphaned ass cheater!” You suck in a sharp breath. There was no time to think, both you and Shuri stepped forward simultaneously. Your hand darted out instantly halting Shuri mid stride, pressing into the center of her stomach as you try to grab her attention. Your free hand reached up grabbing the side of her face to direct her gaze to yours. But, her eyes remained trained on Teyana. Shuri’s hands gripped your waist. She gently lifted you off of your feet, placing you to the side. 

“Shur-“ You were immediately quieted as Shuri tossed a stifling glare in your direction.

“I don’t know why my wife felt the need to bring her riff raff into my presence.” Her stern gaze left yours, her attention now turned back to her target. “More than likely, to make me jealous. And at first it was working. However, the more you speak, the more I see your purpose. It is apparent that you haven’t been informed of the lengths I would go for my troublesome love here.” One more step forward and Shuri was directly over Teyana. “Shuri come on. Stop” You say, fear making your voice tremble, as you walk over once again placing your hand on Shuri’s stomach trying to push her back. A smirk passed over Shuri’s lips, her head tilting to the side. 

“Read the room. That’s what you Americans say huh? Notice the safety precaution my thando is making. It is not because she cares so much for you. But, because she knows who I am. Follow suit toy. Or you can breathe the air, and take in the scenery of your last day on earth.” Teyana couldn’t hide the slight tremble in her body and the action brought a smile back to Shuri’s face. “Now if you’ll excuse us. The adults have business to take care of.” Shuri removed your hand from her locking your fingers with hers, bringing the back of your hand to her mouth, placing a gentle kiss there directly in Teyana’s face. Claiming her territory.

Tolu pulled up behind your car just in time. Your grateful eyes falling on her as she stepped out of her car. “Shuri, stop threatening the girl and let’s get to these results!” She yelled as she headed towards the  entrance of the citadel. Shuri wrapped her free hand around your waist turning your body and holding you close as you both walked into the building leaving Teyana clenching her teeth. 

“You may as well count your losses” Tolu yelled over her shoulder.

Riri Williams

“You’re simply not her…. You’re simply not her…You’re simply not her.”

The words played over and over in Riri’s head as she watched the scene play out from the window of her room. She watched the way you intervened between Shuri and the girl. How even in the midst of Shuri’s pure rage, she found a way to be gentle with you. The way the two of you naturally fell into your roles as wives. She couldn’t understand it. You’d completely disrespected and disregarded Shuri’s feelings by bringing another woman you were involved with into her country. Yet, she was still patient and attentive with you. You’d watched Shuri fucking her, and instead of signing divorce papers and heading back to where you came from. Here you were… back in Shuri’s arms!

“You’re simply not her.”

It sounded in her head once again as she watched Shuri guide you inside by your waist. Rage boiled up inside of Riri  like an over flowing pot of water. She turned away from the window knocking over a lamp in her path, snatching her phone up from the coffee table she found the number she was looking for in her phone. After two rings the person picked up. 

“Yo.”

“What the fuck am I paying you for!?”

“I’m doing what you paid me for! Shit. I met her, I got her attention, I take her ass out and everything. I got her bring me here. Don’t start shit with me cause your plan ain’t going the way you want!” Teyana’s frustration seeped through the speaker. 

“If you were doing what I was paying you for my girlfriend wouldn’t be walking hand in hand with with that bitch!”

“Yo Ri. Not that you’ll listen to me. But you’re buggin’. Those two ain’t lettin’ up. They sprung off each other. Ol’ girl ain’t even lettin’ me hit.”

Riri let’s put an incredulous laugh. “You’re not even fucking her! Fuck this I’ll do it myself. I’m the only one who can get this done the right way!”

Riri hung up the phone. Heading out of the door. 

Before all hell broke loose.

The Courtroom

“Queen Shuri…May I ask why did your wife choose not to go through with filing for divorce on the day in question?” Irritation morphed onto Shuri’s face as she gave a nonchalant shrug. 

“Because I’m cute.” She said, raising a brow bring her hand up to caress her chin. The man rolled his eyes fed up with Shuri’s blantant detachment for this case. Her being the smartest individual the world has ever seen let him know that she was aware of the seriousness of the charges brought against her. But all morning she’d used this courtroom as her personal play ground, simply for her enjoyment. 

“You are under oath! And I suggest you give serious and honest answers!”

“That was a very serious and honest answer council. What? *raises brow* You don’t think I’m cute?” She smirked. He gives an exasperated sigh and looks to the judge. “Your honor. It’s obvious that she is not taking this seriously” He says, pointing his hand in her direction. 

Shuri scoffs, “Why would I?” 

“These are very serious accusations!”

“That have nothing to do with me. You’re all wasting my time.”

The judge bangs her gavel. “That’s enough! Answer the questions properly or I will hold you in contempt of court, and postpone your trial as you sit and think in a cell for 3 months.” 

Shuri rolls her eyes, “Excessive, but ok I’ll entertain your little trial. Go on. Ask me something else.” Shuri turned her attention back to the frustrated man.

“Why was your wife brought back to the palace after the failed divorce proceedings?”

“To fuck. Celebrate. ” The courtroom filled with murmurs as the council dropped his head. Seemingly defeated. Until…

“Oh yea? And how did that go? Because we have a witness that says that your wife was there with Miss Teyana Taylor when you exited the building. That would complicate your plans with her highness. Would it not?”

Shuri leaned back kicking her feet up onto the banister, and letting her hands rest on her stomach. Her head cocking to the side. “No. Not really. I always get what I want.”

“Do you? Then what exactly was the commotion in the palace about before the accident?”

Shuri chuckled. “Hm. It seems as though we have a talker huh?”

“Oh yes you’re highness, you do indeed have a talker.”

The Day it Happened

“So, what does this mean Shuri?” You’re eyes didn’t leave the results infront of you. You were tearing at what this could possibly mean. Shuri stood next to you, biting hard into her bottom lip. What she already knew, now confirmed. 

“What that means is our tiny guest took it upon herself to control the way Shuri felt about her. She’s a fucking lunatic.” Tolu said standing to the left of you, also immersed in the results.

Your breathing started to get heavier as you tried to wrap your mind around all of this. Not knowing what to believe. 

“Wh- h-how? How did she do this?” 

“She gave me a little peace offering. Pot bread after everything settled from before. Said she had a date and wanted to thank me for allowing her to stay after all of the confusion. That’s the day I started feeling different. The confusion. The memory blocks.” 

You stand staring. Hands begining to shake as your body heated up from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. “Let me get this straight. That bitch was invited into my home by my wife, fucked my wife, and when me and you got better instead of sending the homewrecking bitch home, you allowed her to stay, took a peace offering and she’s been controlling your fucking mind ever since.”

Shuri turned walking away to her “special desk” on the floor of her lab. She opened a drawer pulling out her tyutu. An herb made special by you just for her when the two of you were young. “So it is still my fault?”

“Kutheni kungenjalo Shuri! (Why wouldn’t it be) I asked you to get that bitch out of here immediately after I found out about the two of you, and you refused! So yes! You’re still at fault!” You began pacing. “And how the fuck don’t I know this isn’t some shit you made up just to try and stop me from divorcing you.”

She plopped down into her chair, Her jaw clenching as she refused to look in your direction. She pulled out her rolling papers and began to make a blunt. “Listen. I think right now our biggest issue is Riri! She’s still here and she tried to manipulate the both of you into splitting up!” You nod agreeing with Tolu, yet still having a point to add.

“Which she wouldn’t have been able to do if mfazi wam okrelekrele (my genius wife) had sent the little psycho BACK HOME!” Shuri sat deligently rolling up. “Look at her. She doesn’t even know what to say since her little plan of winning me back didn’t work! How long ago did you cough this shit up again?! And how long have you still been fucking her?!” You say walking over slamming your hand on the table in front of her, punctuating your sentence. 

Shuri sat forward. Her elbows on her knees, finished with her task. She placed the final product between her lips. She touched one of her beads and rubbed her middle finger and thumb together, a flame appearing from the top, for her to light her herb. Once lit she took a deep inhale closing her eyes, before releasing a puff of smoke through her nose. She relaxed back into her chair looking up at you through hooded eyes.

“Undiqumbele nyani mhle? (Are you really angry at me beautiful) Or are you upset at how  much you still want me? That no matter how much I fuck up. You’ll always crave me. All of the years we’ve known eachother the popular consensus has been my need for you. But, Thando I do believe you’ve grown to need me too. I excite you. The way your heart rate speeds up at the sound of my voice is telling. The desire in your eyes for me when I put your little pet in her place. *smirk*  It only makes you want me more. But I beg of you Sthandwa.” She stands to her feet, gliding over to you, your body trembling in anticipation for the true love of your life. “We have a common enemy. Let’s not give her the satisfaction of allowing what she did to tear us apart.” She grabbed your chin caressing it between her fingers as she brings the blunt to her mouth taking another puff before signaling you to open your mouth. You immediately obey as she leaned forward as placed her mouth over yours, releasing the smoke. 

She pulls back looking you in your eyes and there you saw her. Your teenage love. “Let’s show her what the Udaku’s are capable of!”

That glint in her eyes sparked a fear and excitement in you. She was back. And the world was in trouble.

“I’ll kill her.”

The Courtroom

“Is it not true that you threatened Ms. Taylor? Saying and I quote ‘You can breathe the air, and take in the scenery of your last day on earth.’ “

“Spot on. Is that what you get paid to do? Quote shit all day.”

“That isn’t a light threat to be making.” He says ignoring her arrogant quip.

“Absolutely not. That’s why it wasn’t a threat counselor. It was a promise. A promise I unfortunately wasn’t able to make good on, Because someone got their hands on her before I could.” 

“So you’re saying you would’ve done it?”

“Most definitely. She was a disrespectful, entitled brat who challenged me as soon as she stepped foot in my country. Under Wakanda’s laws I could’ve honestly done whatever I wanted to her.”

“And why should we believe that you didn’t?”

“Because she was with my wife.”

“And weren’t you and your wife in an altercation moments before the incident. Causing her to leave with Ms.Taylor. Am I correct?” 

Shuri nods, signaling the man to get to the point. 

“Did that not anger you?” Shuri answered simply.

“No”

“Is that right? Is it not true that you were diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder when you were a teen?” Shuri laughed 

“Wow. Did your research.”

“That’s my job. Your highness.” He said finally acknowledging her sarcasm from early on. “And you were placed into the care of your wife. That’s how you met right?”

“The point.” Shuri stated. Bored.

“Gladly. You needed her. You started loosing your mind when she left you. Having episodes again. Somehow you in your deranged state, masking, convinced your wife to not sign the papers and come back to the palace with you. You distracted her and Ms. Taylor for a moment and set them up!”

“I WOULD NEVER HARM A FUCKING HAIR ON MY WIFES HEAD!!”

He came to a house where there was a very beautiful girl. He was received by the girl's father, and stayed there. His horns provided food and clothing food for them all.

Back in the Days

“We simply can not take it anymore. We’re reaching out to you all because we’ve heard wonderful things about your daughter and her herbs. Maybe she would be able to help our Shuri regulate herself”

Your mother looked over at your father, afraid of what the Queen was asking of them. The Princess of Wakanda was a known menace to the country. Easily angered and dangerous at her core. It had been ruled a mental disorder but it did not stop those around her from fearing her. Asking them to allow her under the care of their precious y/n was frieghtening.

“Ikumkani wam, we have great respect for you and your family. However, I need to know that my daughter will be safe. And your Shuri.. She is a known trouble maker. Known for causing harm.”

“I understand, but she only needs the proper care. The treatments that she is getting now are not working. Maybe your girl has what she needs. I guarantee her saftey will be our top priority.”

“How about we schedule a meeting between the two and see where it leads.”

“There she is! My beautiful sister. How are you feeling today, sthandwa sam?” Shuri and Tolu only glanced from the television for a brief moment to acknowledge T’Challas presence.

“Hello, brother. What brings you down to visit the problem child?”

“You know I never need a reason to come visit my love. However, today I do have one.”

Shuri looked back at her brother as he opened the door to her room wider. In walked a girl. Not like any girl Shuri had ever seen. Her golden skin perfectly sun kissed, with beautiful shoulder length locs, and big doe eyes. Shuri was immediately intrigued, leaning up on her bed causing Tolu to turn and pay attention to what was happening. You look around the room taking in the luxirious surroundings until your eyes fell onto Shuri. You watched her give you a once over before you smiled speaking to her. 

“Hello.” You state softly. 

“H-hello.” Both T’Challa and Tolu looked on in shock. Having never seen Shuri get stuck or be soft with anyone new.

“Um. This Y/n Aku. She is also a young prodigy. An herbalist. Mother thinks that it’s best that we change the route of your treatment. She feels as though this young lady can help with that.”

“An herbalist huh? And just how do you think you can be of service to me? Nothing anyone else has done has helped. What is different about you?” 

You stood and thought for a moment before, looking her in the eye and answering. “Like you I am young and open minded. I cater the care I give to the specific individual. What I feel will be best for YOU and what YOU need. I never give generalized care.”

“And what is your process?”

“If you’ll have me. I’d need to spend lots of time with you. Learn your habits, and your triggers so that I can properly treat you.” Shuri smiled leaning back against her headboard. 

“Sold, I look forward to spending time with you. Y/n.” You both hold eachothers stare smiling from ear to ear. 

Tolu and Shuri walked through the markets. Shuri with an unusual Pep in her step. Her usual cold, hard demeanor had softened a bit. Tolu stared at the side of Shuri’s face smiling at the her joy.

“Look at you. What’s got you in such a great mood?” Shuri looks at Tolu a small smile on her face. 

“I think I’m in love Tolu.” She looks at Shuri shocked. 

“It’s been 3 months. Is that an accurate amount of time to measure love?” Tolu raised her eyebrow in Shuri’s direction.

“You’re friends with her. You see what I see. How easy she is to love. Tolu, she’s wonderful. I’ve never met anyone as brilliant and beautiful as her. She’s see’s who I am fully and has yet to judge me.” She walks infront of Tolu interrupting her stride.

“I’d like to ask her to be my girlfriend.” Tolu smiled 

“What makes you think she wants your evil ass.” They share a laugh.

“Honestly, I think she likes it.” Shuri smiles. Tolu punched her in the arm as they continue their walk. “Me too, Me too Udaku.”

“GET OFF OF ME! LET ME GO!!” Everyone around Shuri and Tolu looked around at eachother trying to see were the sound was coming from. Tolu looked ahead of her to see a commotion a bit further up the road. Three men attempted to snatch something from a girl who appeared to be holding her own under the circumstances. She squinted her eyes trying to get a better look and her face fell when she recognized the silhouette. 

“Shuri. That’s Y/n!!” Before Tolu could get the words out Shuri was halfway to the scene and the markets started to scatter. The people immediately going into hiding. Tolu followed right behind Shuri, both running full throttle. Shuri got to you pulling the first man she saw back by the neck. 

“Aarrgh” She pierced his pulse point underneath his ear with all her might knocking him to the ground. Tolu came in with a swift kick to the side of one of the men’s face. Leaving you with the last. You took your nails digging them into the man’s eyes as your knee came up to meet his groin. “Mka (Fuck you)” you say as he fell to his knees screaming out. Tolu grabbed you pulling you away from the men. As you ran away you watched as people looked on in horror. You didn’t see Shuri with the two of you and panicked. 

“Tolu! Shuri! Where’s Shuri?!”

“Don’t worry about her she’ll be ok!”

“No we have to go get her!” You pull away turning around to run back, but Tolu grabbed you by the waist pulling you against her to stop you from going back. “No y/n! She’s not Shuri right now. You can’t go over there.” She whispered in your ear as you struggled against her. When you stopped and looked straight ahead you saw it. The demon inside of her. Her eyes had blackened and veins protruded from her neck and forehead. She had a man by the throat slamming his head against the ground repeatedly, before repeating with each man. You stood stark still inside Tolu’s arms watching the horrific scene infront of you. Terror filling you as blood splattered on Shuri’s face. But, there was another thing bubbling deep inside of you…. Intrigue, desire. As everyone watched her in horror, you only wanted to get closer.

You removed Tolu’s arms from around your waist calmly stepping forward. “S-shuri?” You say. She kept going oblivious to the world around her. “Shuri!” You spoke this time with power. The sound of your voice snapping her into reality. The men were dead. “That’s enough mhlobo wam. Come to me.” Shuri stood to her feet, wiping her blood smeared hands onto her clothes. You shook with fear and anticipation as she walked timidly over to you. Her mind had immediately snapped from her murderous thoughts, to the thought that she had frightened you away with the scene she had made. 

“I-I it’s not usually that extreme I-” Shuri says once in front of you. You shush her with your pointer finger to her lips. Everyone still hidden watching in fear of what was to come from the young girl they deemed a psychopath.

“I have something for you.” You say voice trembling as Tolu stood behind you, but close enough to protect. “Do you mind if I give it to you now?”

Shuri nodded. Unable to look you in the eye afraid that behind your usual glow would be the same judgement she’d always received.”

You dig into your bag pulling out a perfectly rolled blunt. 

“This is tyutu. An herb blend that I believe will help you control your urges a bit better. It wil work perfectly for you.” You placed it against her lips, and she accepted it. Pulling out a lighter you lit it for her. “Relax. Take a puff, hold it a moment, and release the smoke from your mouth.” Shuri did as you said. Once she released the smoke a series of coughs followed. You rubbed her back. “See. This proves it. You are no monster. You’re human. A born protector.” Shuri looked at you a tear sliding from her eye. “You could also ingest this through food, or drink, this is the only thing I had in the moment. Anyway you want it I could make it for you.”

Once Shuri calmed from her coughing fit she focused in on your eyes. No judgement. Only your usual sincerity. “I like it.” She says. You smile as she tries another puff. This one going much smoother. You step up to her touching the side of her bloodied face. “It will be better now sthandwa.” You bring your lips to hers placing a light kiss to her lips taking her breath away. “Thank you, Udaku. Let’s get you home.”

You grabbed her hand as Shuri continued to puff on her herbs. Tolu took her place in front of you both, mugging anyone who dare to look too long. The three of you were a sight to see and that day was the start of an inseparable bond.

The Courtroom

“I would never hurt my wife. She is what keeps me sane. She saved my life. I could never hurt her.” A tear rolled down her cheek that she quickly wiped away.

“Well your highness. We’re all waiting..What happened to your wife and Ms.Taylor. And where is Riri Williams?

The day it happened 

Riri stormed out of the Citadel barreling towards Teyana. 

“Why the fuck are you standing out here when you should be inside with your girl!”

“The Queen ain’t letting me in!” Teyana shrugged.

“Who gives a fuck! Break some doors down show her you  don’t play any games!”

“Who the fuck do you think I am! It’s obvious that woman doesn’t play about her wife, and y/n is head over heels for her too. There’s no breaking that bond.” Your driver steps out of the car and Riri cuts her eyes towards him. 

“I’m just stepping away for a smoke.” He said, his hands up defensively as he walks away. That’s when it came to her. A perfect plan. 

“Fuck that. I’m gonna get you in. Go inside and stir some shit up at the lab. You won’t be able to get into the lab, but cause a little trouble looking for her. I’ll triple what I’m paying you now.” Teyana’s eyebrows shot up in excitement. “Bet! Whatever you say boss!”

Riri snuck off with Teyana, getting her inside the palace, pointing her in the direction she should go. Once Teyana was on her mission Riri snuck back out to the cars. Smiling, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work. 

The Day it Happened

“Yo. I heard my girl was in here I’m just trying to get her. Im ready to get the fuck out of here!”

“Panther there is a disturbance in front of the lab.” Says Griot. You all look at each other and head toward the commotion. When the lab doors opened Teyana, was heemed up hands behind her back as a Dora pulled her into submission. 

“Well, well, well my love. You could’ve done a much better job training this one. She seems to enjoy trouble.” Shuri signaled for the Dora to let her go. She slowly walked up to Teyana as Teyana grilled her unafraid. Suddenly, Shuri reeled back punching Teyana in the stomach causing her to double over in pain gasping for air. “Shuri!” You scream. She ignored you squatting down to get ear level with Teyana. “I thought I made very clear how unwelcome you were in my home.” She tapped the side of her face with the back of her hand. Her rings scraping her skin.

“Hm. Nothing to say?….. Let me let you in on a bit of a secret I don’t enjoy repeating myself.” Shuri stood with an upper cut to Teyana’s chin. Knocking her right out of her doubled over state straight into her flying backwards and sliding across the floor. Shuri followed her body as it slid. She rolled up the sleeves to her blazer as she once again got into a squat next to the struggling girl who’s wind had been knocked out of her. “I bet the inside of that car is looking like the place to be right now huh?” Shuri chuckled. 

Teyana let out a huff. Trying to speak. “Aww look ubusi. Speechless. What happened to all of that mouth?” 

“Shuri that’s enough she’s done nothing to you.”

“Au contraire my love she’s done plenty.” Teyana huffed again. Gaining the air back to her lungs “L-leave.” She says her voice coming out strained. “She wants to leave now baby. You’ve had so much to say today. I’d hate for you to go before you get everything you’ve asked for.” At that moment Riri rounded the corner headed to the lab seemingly on a mission. Your eyes narrowed. The thought of her manipulating and violating your wife making your blood boil. 

“Baby what is this bitch doing back in our home.” Riri says as she walks up on Shuri. Shuri’s breath hitches as you take a step forward. “Bitch you’ve got audacity. We all know the shit you pulled to cause all of this confusion. The lengths you went to make Shuri want you. How desperate of a bitch do you have to be to create a synthetic love.”

Riri stepped into your space. “There was nothing synthetic about my fingers deep inside of her pussy was it?” Your fist immediatly came across Riri’s face and you didn’t stop raining punches down on her until the two of you were backed up into the lab. Riri had fallen holding onto one of the lab tables for dear life as you continued to use her face as a punching bag. Tolu noticed Riri gripping the sides of the table to gain momentum to bring her legs up to kick you in the stomach. “Y/N! No you’re pregnant!” Tolu screamed as she ran toward you pushing you out of the way. 

“You wha-?” Shuri spoke softly behind all of the commotion. The air had been sucked out of the room Riri had slid to the floor on the side of the lab table. To hurt to react to the news. You turn and look to Shuri to see her standing stuck at the entrance of the lab. You swallow, your eyes down cast unable to look at her. You heard the click of her heels through the deafening silence approach you. She stopped just in front of you. “Y/n. You’re what?” She says again. Your eyes still on your feet. “I’m pregnant.” You whispered and you could hear Shuri’s breath hitch. 

“How far along?”

“Almost 4 months.” Shuri began to tear up. 

“Th-that’s further than last time. Much further Mfazi.” She stepped up and went to her knees in front of you. Eye level to your stomach. Still not showing. “You. You’re still so small my love are you sure. Have you been going to the doctor? Is it a real pregnancy love?” You place your hands on the top of her head finally looking at her, seeing the joy and fear in her eyes. “Baby, listen.” You stepped up guiding her ear to your tummy where she could hear the strong heart beat of your baby. “Oh Bast!” She gasped tears dropping, falling freely from her eyes. “You’re pregnant. Holy shit you’re pregnant sthandwa!!!” She stood swooping you up in her arms, you giggled as she swirled you around, holding tightly to her with your face nuzzled into her neck. 

When…

“AAAAAAAAGGGHHH!!!” Riri was up on her feet charging at the two of you. Determined to cause you harm. You couldnt be. There’s no way you were having Shuri’s child. Before she could reach you. Tolu swooped in knocking her to her back. Riri stood. A different type of determination in her eyes. As she decides to go toe to toe with Tolu. She starts backing up bringing Tolu forward as she swung every hit landing. But Riri was on a mission. As Riri got closer to her destination. Tolu landed a spinning kick that spun Riri knocking her face first into the table knocking her completely out. 

“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about Lu!!” You yell. Shuri stood next to you looking down at you with a tender smile on her face. “What are we going to do with her baby?”

“OOOhhh no. We *points between the two of you* aren’t doing anything with her. You *points at you, are going to get in your car and head to Tolu’s and send that fleshy uselessness you brought to my country back to where you got her from. Because you’re not getting hurt nor leaving Wakanda while carrying my child.”

“But Mfazi-“

“Mfazi, mfazi, mfazi, you will do as I say eh. I will meet you there when we are done here. I promise you my beautiful bride. You’ve done enough. It’s time for me to clean up my mess. Now go.” She sent you away with a kiss to the lips, and a slap on the ass. You smiled, slowly stepping away and turning to leave the lab. 

“Hate to see you go sthandwa. But love to watch you leave.” Shuri says behind you. You toss a glance over your shoulder giving her a wink and a smile before exiting the lab. Shuri turned back to Tolu who was now directly infront of her handing her a pair of gloves. 

Shuri took them sliding them onto her hands. “Take her to the room”

You walk out to your car. This time your driver stood outside of your door waiting for you. He opens the door and you slide in to see Teyana leaned against the car door in a bloodied ball. 

You shook your head. “I gave you all the tools for success and this is what you chose.”

“I wanna go home.”

“Gladly. You should be grateful you have the opportunity.” 

The ride was silent, that is until the car slowly began to shake. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Knowing something was wrong immediately. “What’s going on?” You ask the driver. “I have no idea ma’am. I’m finding a safe area for us to pull over.” The shaking only proceeded to get worse. Causing Teyana to sit up in her seat. 

“Pull over now!” You yell at the driver. He immediately swerves to the right to pull over, but looses control. The wheel locks and the breaks go out as parts of the car start to fly off! 

“Bast, oh bast please no!”

“Yo! What the fuck is happening!! Stop this bitch!” 

“I CAN’T! I’ve tried everything! You have to brace yourselves for impact!!”

“My baby! My baby!” You scream as you hold on for dear life with your eyes closed. The car was now at full speed sliding down the road sideway on two tires. Their was a light pole made of vibranium straight ahead. At the last minute you hit the emergency button on your Kimoyo beads. It would immediately notify Shuri that something was wrong. Soon after the car hit the pole seperating the front from the back. The wheels almost disintegrating. Both parts of the car spin out of control. You and Teyana went spinning before being slammed into the side of a building. 

“Panther. There is a distress signal being sent by your wife.” 

Shuri’s attention was snatched away from Tolu dragging Riri’s limp body into her torture chamber. Tolu dropped Riri in the center of the room as Shuri tried to contact her wife.

“Griot scan the scene.” Shuri says her heart pounding in her chest. Soon after a hologram of the scene of the accident was projected from her beads. Shuri’s heart almost stops. 

“Griot. What are my wife’s vitals?!”

“Systolic 60, diastolic 40, heart rate at 48 bpm.” Shuri started to choke. 

“We have to go Lu! We have to fucking go NOW!” They both take off as Shuri placed her beads to her necklace. Her Panther suit morphing to her body. She tossed her keys to Tolu as she took off ahead of her to get to the scene. Tolu hopped into Shuri’s car. “Griot take me to Y/n” 

“Yes, War Dog” The car immediately took off full speed getting her to her destination. When Shuri and Tolu got to the scene the paramedics were already there. Shuri watched as two body bags where being placed into the back of the ambulances her wife nowhere to be found. 

“Where is my wife!? Where is she!? Her beads, they said she was here! Where is my fucking Wife?!” Shuri went through every individual on the scene. Snatching paramedics by the collar and tossing them aside like nothing. Tolu ran up to her. “Shuri! Shuri! You’ve got to calm yourself. We can’t get answers like this. Let me handle it. Breathe a moment ok?” Shuri remained where she was as Tolu ran to  get information. Shuri zoned out hoping it was all a dream. 

“Shuri. They say she was taken from the scene immediately when they saw who she was. Just come get in the car and let’s get to her ok.”

They both took off to Shuri’s car heading to the hospital. Shuri removed her Panther suit. Sitting staring out of the passenger window of the car staring into the night sky. Praying her wife and child were safe. 

Shuri rushed into the building as soon as the car stopped. Running up to the front desk. The receptionist stood as she recognized the queen running in her direction.

“Ikumkani wam. Your wife was taken up to trauma bay 1.  She is in surgery.”

“What happened? How was she injured?” Out of breath from the fear and adrenaline. Shuri shot out questions at the woman.

“I-I’m not sure your highness. She’s on the top floor and if you go up I’m sure her doctors can tell you everything you need to know.” She said her head down afraid to make eye contact. 

“Thank you.” Shuri says nonchalantly, walking away from the desk heading to the elevator with Tolu on her heels. 

Shuri leans against the back wall of the elevator. Her chin dropping to her chest as she tried to control her breathing. “She’s going to be ok Shuri. Her and the baby are going to be fine. You guys will be happy, and loved. And don’t forget well protected by your war dog.” She smiled. Shuri sniffled with a chuckle. “I’m scared Lu. This shit is all on me. She was right none of this would be happening if I’d just sent the girl home.” 

“Well you didn’t. And here we are. No need beating yourself up over it. Shit happened, mistakes were made. What’s important right now is that your family is ok.”

“You knew she was pregnant the entire time huh?”

“I was there when she found out. I’ve also been to every appointment.” Shuri smirked.

“Ofcourse you have.”

“She wanted to wait for you. To know what the two of you were having.”  Shuri stared at Tolu only sniffling in reply.

The elevator stopped at their floor, as they continued to look at eachother for reassurance before stepping off. A nurse runs over promptly as soon as Shuri is spotted. 

“You’re highness, if you could follow me to your private waiting area. I will fill you in on what is happening.” Shuri and Tolu gladly followed. Once inside of the room the nurse filled them in on what is happening. 

“Would you like some water or anything?”

“Just tell me what is happening with my wife.” The nurse nods.

“Your wife was rushed into surgery. She had some broken ribs, a collapsed lung, internal bleeding, and also a small brain bleed. The doctors are doing all that they can. But. I’m sorry to say…. It’s not looking promising. Her BP was very low on arrival and she bleed profusely into her stomach.” Shuri let out a shakey breath, her knees weakening. Tolu walked up beside her grabbing and squeezing her hand. Keeping her upright. 

“The baby.” She whispered the only words she could manage. The nurse smiled. “You’ve got a little fighter baby’s hanging in there. Her mama protected her with her life.” 

“H-her. I-it’s a girl?” Shuri looked at the nurse. 

“I’m so sorry. You didn’t know?”

“No. It’s fine. Thank you.” Shuri motioned for her to leave. Her and Tolu sat knowing there was nothing they could do but wait. 

Riri woke up in the cold concrete room body aching and head pounding. She touched her bloodied and swollen face wincing in pain. She searched her surroundings. There was nothing only a single lightbulb and concrete walls. She ran to the door yanking and pulling trying to get out. She stepped back as far as she could to get a running start running and kicking the door. She heard a crack in her leg and fell to the ground screaming. She curled into a ball crying and rocking on the floor. She was stuck and only God knows what was going to happen to her. Fear finally started setting in. She had gravely underestimated Shuri and her bitch of a wife. She didn’t have time to break right now, she had to figure a way out. 

“Mr. Stark? Are you there?”

“Yea kiddo I’m here.”

“Is there a way you can get my suit to me?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

Her stark AI goes off line for a few moments, and all she could do was wait until it once again turned blue. “I’m back kid stand back.”

She stepped back away from the door just in time for an explosion. There was her suit activated and ready for use. She smiled.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Your highness.” Your doctors walk in to greet Shuri giving her the salute. She returns the gesture. “Your wife is out of surgery. We stopped the bleeding into her stomach and the brain bleed. Her and baby are stabilized, But she is in a coma. All we can do now is wait. Baby will be fine as long as her mother is ok.”

Shuri’s eyes welled with tears. She nodded as she bit into her lip. “May I see her?” 

“Yes you may.” Shuri looked to Tolu. She put up her hands. “You go ahead I’ll keep watch out here.” Shuri silently walks out as the doctor leads her to the room. She opens the door and what she sees breaks her heart. There were tubes everywhere, machines everywhere monitoring you and the baby. Your head was wrapped up and your face was bruised and swollen. There were large bandages on the left side of your abdomen covering where they’d gone in for surgery and the machines helped you to breathe.

“Oh sthandwa.” Shuri choked out. “Im sorry. Im so sorry.” She stumbled over to the bed. Falling to her knees beside you. “I need you to be ok. I can’t survive without you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Whatever you want my love. If you just get better for me.” She turned her attention to your belly. “My daughter. My beautiful baby girl. I hear your tough. We shall name you Amandla. It means strength, to be strong. How do you feel about that my love?” She says to you holding your hand with tears rolling down her face. “You’re going to be ok. You have to be baby.” 

At that moment there was a knock at the door. A nurse walks in along with 3 police officers.

“Your highness.” They salute her as she stands to her feet. Tears still streaming down her cheeks. She returns the gesture. “How can I help you gentleman?”

“Ikumkani wam. We have just left the scene of your wife’s accident, and we have some questions for you?” Shuri’s face frowns up in confusion as she crossed her hands in front of her.

“Concerning?”

“Well, I dont know if you are aware, but your wife’s friend from America perished in the accident.” Shuri raised a brow and shrugged, urging him to continue. “Well, we had to call her family to notify them of her passing. And when we did they notified us that she had seemed to be a bit more than friends with your wife. Urging us to investigate further. It seems as though your wife’s accident wasn’t much of an accident.” 

Shuri stepped forward getting closer to the officer speaking to her. Her interest had been peaked. “In what way was it not an accident?” 

“It seems as though your wife’s driver lost control of the car about a mile back from the site. Essential parts of the car began to lock up or fall off. Seemed perfectly planned and timed. Really only one person we know intelligent enough to pull off something so intricate.” 

At that moment Shuri’s kimoyo beads went off. A notification informing her of a breech in the security system of her torture room. Darkness. Darkness covered Shuri’s face as the good parts of her retracted themselves inside of her, and the demon had once again taken over. She looked up at the officers. 

“It would seem so.” She says the change in her voice and demeanor striking. 

“We’ve come here to warn you your highness. The Americans are finding a way to come for you. Apparently, your wife’s friend had been connected to some very powerful people. They have forced the information out of us. There is not much time.”

Shuri gave a small nod “Thank you gentleman. I would like to be alone with my wife now.” 

“Ewe” They each say giving a salute before leaving the room and closing the door behind them.

Shuri walks over to your bed, grabs and caresses your hand. “It seems as though things are about to get hairy my dear. I may not be here for much longer. I pray that if you awaken to my absence that you know it is totally against my will and that I didn’t go down without a fight. She did this to you and my child. And she will suffer the consequences.” She brought your hand to her mouth, planting a long kiss before placing it down, placing another soft kiss to your belly. “My Amandla, stay strong ubusi.” She slowly backed away and with on last glance over her shoulder she stepped out of the room where she found Tolu standing in wait. 

Shuri’s demeanor was hard. There was no more light in her eyes. And Tolu knew, they were going to war. 

“Tolu, daughter of Yemah”

Tolu stepped up standing at attention in front of Shuri.

“Yes, Panther”

Shuri stepped closer to her leaning forward almost whispering in Tolu’s ear.

“Go get that bitch.” 

On command, Tolu gave her war salute crossing her arms over her chest tapping her beads together twice making her swords appear as she went down on one knee in a kneel to Shuri. Her swords drawn straight out behind her. With that Shuri turned to walk away, and Tolu stood to her feet headed in the opposite direction. On a hunt for Riri Williams. 

Tolu entered the Palace on a mission. Determined to find the woman responsible for all of the chaos. She went to where they had left her, only to find a hole where the door used to be. Tolu turned looking for clues of where she could possibly be when she heard a noise and the lights cut out. Tolu pulled out her swords and began a tactical walk through the back halls of the lab.

“Run rabbit run!” Tolu laughed. “I love the chase.” She heard the whining of metal behind her, a small step being taken. She smiled and continued to move forward. “You know Shuri’s on to you. She knows everything. Even your little attempt on her wife’s life. Killed everyone except her. For a genius. You’re really bad at accomplishing your goal.” Tolu felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand and she quickly turned jamming her blade into the side of Riri’s suit.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Damn! All that hard work! Down the drain. You know Shuri had a feeling you might try to use your suit. Taught me right where to disarm it.” Another slice to the other side of Riri’s suit hit hard, knocking her to her knees. 

“Aaarrgh!” Riri yelled. “Fuck you and your little friend I hope her and that little mutant she’s growing dies where she lies!” Tolu smirked.

“Oouuu there’s another little trick Shuri showed me too.” She crouched down to Riri’s level. Want to see it.” Before Riri could answer Tolu took the blade of her sword and began to press it into the heart of Riri’s suit. She pressed  until the suit completely out circuited, but she didn’t stop there. She kept pressing until the blade was pressing into Riri’s chest. Riri’s eyes  widened as she realized what was happening. Tolu was going to take her life. 

“If she does die. You two will pass by eachother as you head in opposite directions. Any last words?” 

Riri huffed. “Yes…Tell Shuri I love her.”

Tolu pulled the sword from Riri’s chest bringing it above her to slam it back into her chest when suddenly Riri knocked the sword from her hand using the vibranium from her suit to knock Tolu backwards. She pulled the arm of her suit from her right arm where she had been holding onto a toxic substance that she’d grabbed from the desk and snuck into her bra before Tolu knocked her unconscious earlier. She squeezed her hand bursting the bag and rubbed the calcium ammonium nitrate into Tolu’s eyes. Tolu screamed bloody murder! Riri reached for Tolu’s sword. Grabbing it and bringing it above her head to jam it into Tolu’s chest.

A hand comes out of nowhere out of the darkness. Gripping Riri’s wrist painfully tight. Shuri’s face appears out of the darkness.

“Queen Shuri Udaku! Come out with your hands up!” The Citadal was surrounded. The other Avengers where the only outsiders with access to Wakanda. They’d all turned on her. Allowed America to turn her into some type of murderous danger when she was completely innocent. Though right now she didn’t look it. She stepped out of her home, blood dripping from her fingertips. Smeared all over her clothes and face. Her eyes black and pupils dialated with blood lust. Her nostrils flared as spotlights fell onto her. She looked into the sky turning slowly, staring at all her comrades here to take her in. 

“This is what it’s come to!” She speaks so all can hear. “You all have been welcomed into my country once, and the next time you enter you’ve turned against me!” She yelled at the top of her lungs her canines protruded, as spit flew from her mouth. She was deranged. 

“When my innocence is proven this will not be a partnership easily restored! YOU ALL WILL FEEL THE WRATH OF SHURI UDAKU!! I’LL BE YOUR WORSE FUCKING NIGHTMARE!!” Shuri laughs manically as everyone swooped in to take her down. 

There she was in her own country. Laying flat on her belly being handcuffed and extradited to the states for the murder of Teyana Taylor, and the attempted murder of her wife and child. Later they would realize that Riri Williams had gone missing, and through the blood samples they’d taken from Shuri upon her arrival they’d ruled her disappearance a homicide as well. 

“So you’re telling me all of this started because Riri Williams had a crush on you.” The councilor spoke. 

“SHE’S A LIAR!! MY BABY WOULD NEVER DO THAT! SHES A BEAUTIFUL INTELLIGENT WOMAN! SHE COULD’VE HAD ANYONE SHE WANTED! SHE’S A DAMN LIAR.” Shuri sat back once again finding humor in the situation. As the bailiff grabbed Riri’s mother to escort her out of the courtroom.

“Hate to break it to you mama! Your daughter is a psychopath! And she’s also alive! She tried to kill my wife and child and set me up for the murder!”

“Well why were you covered in her blood when we picked you up.”

“I told you before she left, she got into an altercation with my friend over there and blinded her! Dear Bast! I had to protect her. But she ran off. What a menace!! You guys should really get her off of the street! While you’re all sitting here wasting time with me she could be out there controlling minds and blinding people!” Shuri says in faux appall, before chuckling.

At that moment the courtroom doors fly open. Two members of the Dora Milaje standing, holding the doors open. You round the corner strutting into the courtroom with your head held high. Your brown dress with a connected shawl that wrapped over your head, under your left arm and over your right clung to your body as your belly now slightly protruded with a bump from your healthy baby girl. Shuri’s mouth dropped and tears welled in her eyes, as the courtroom erupted in talk.

“Oh my God!”

“It’s the Queens wife!”

You walk right past all of the commotion and step past the border without a word, a manilla envelope in hand packed to the brim. You approach the judges bench placing the envelope infront of her. You turn away, but not before tossing a wink at your now dumbfounded wife. You walk away taking a seat in the empty chair next to Tolu. Shuri stared in your direction her chest rising and falling slowly but heavily. Was she seeing correctly? It was you. It was really you. 

The judge emptied the contents of the envelope onto the desk scanning over each object closely while everyone sat on the edge of their seats wondering what the wife of the queen had brung.

“Will the Plantiff and Defendant please approach the bench.” Shuri stood coming down from the stand and approaching the bench along with the defendants council.

“It seems as though we have evidence that links Riri Williams to the cause of the accident. And there are multiple witnesses in Wakanda that have reported sightings of her and even photos.” Shuri’s head lifted, biting her lip to contain the smile spreading across her face.

“Your highness, we are very sorry to have wasted your time, and it is with great honor that I dismiss this case.” The judge bangs her gavel and the courtroom goes wild. The defendants side shouted threats and slurs, as the plaintiffs side rejoiced. Overjoyed that their queen was returning home. 

Shuri turned around, all the family that she had left and built after loosing her immediate family standing front row with smiles taking over their faces. But the only face she could care about at the moment was one that she hadn’t seen in three months. Their you stood looking beautiful as ever with your smaller than usual seven month pregnant pudge. A sudden calm washed over Shuri as the tears finally fell. A weight lifting off of her shoulders. You stepped forward, the two of you making your way to eachother slowly. This was surreal.  You met in the center of the room just standing and looking at eachother.

“I can’t believe you’re here my love. W-when did you come out? Why did no one say anything?”

“About a month ago. No one said anything for the same reason noone told me about your predicament for awhile. They thought they were protecting us. I figured it out after about a week though. They’d been working deligently to get you out, and when we finally got all of the evidence needed I knew I wanted to be here. Nothing in the world could have stopped me.” Shuri smiled licking her lip and reaching out for your belly. She placed her hand gently on your belly bending down to speak. “My little Amandla you made it back to me strong girl. Your umama is proud of you.”

A tear trickled down your face. “You named her?” Shuri stood upright nodding. “If that’s ok with you Ubusi.” You smiled. “I love it. Our little Amandla Udaku.” Shuri stepped forward wrapping her arms around you. 

“If I’ve learned anything in the time passed my sweet y/n. It is that I cannot live my life without you. You breathe life into me and with every bit of my being I will do what it takes to protect you and our daughter. For the rest of my days.”

“I love you Shuri Udaku”

Shuri swooped you up in her arms bridal style. You grabbed her face bringing it to yours and you kissed like no one else was in the room. 

Shuri pulled away with a smile on here face. 

“I have a gift for you. Let’s get you home.”

And she walked out of the courtroom with you in her arms.

Shuri lead you down the dark hall to a room with several locks. She took her time unlocking each one. And turned to you smiling. 

“You ready for this my love!” 

“Stop stalling and open the door already Shuri.” You giggled. The door opened and Shuri flicked on the lights. There….was a bloody and bruised Riri Williams hanging from her wrist from the ceiling.” You’re eyes were wide in shock at the sight of her. Slash marks all over her body her finger nails missing. Her finger tips burnt. 

“Watch this my love.” Shuri flicked a switch and Riri was jolted awake by electricity.

When her head lifted you noticed that her eyes were gone. 

“Please. Please kill me! I can’t live like this anymore. Tell my mama I love her and I’m sorry.” Her voice was raspy from dehydration and her constant screams.

“Awww come on now they tell me you enjoyed some of it. Like our little game of cat mouse. See babe. We let her loose some times. Let the goons hunt her and whoever brought her back got a prize! I figured she liked that one.”

“Oh My God Shuri!” Tears poured down your face. You looked to her your facial expression stuck in shock. 

“For me? You did all of this for me?” You asked. She walked towards you grabbing your waist pulling into you. “Yes my love. All for you. I’d place all the starts at your feet if you just give me the time. This was due to you.”

You smiled, lifting your chin to place a loving kiss to Shuri’s lips. And then another and another. The kiss quickly turned from innocent to lustfilled. Shuri began pushing you back against the wall as the two of you felt all over eachothers bodies. You began to slide Shuri’s cream suit jacket from her shoulders allowing it to drop to the floor. As she pressed your body into the wall you began to unbutton her pants as you kissed sloppily. Once her pants were unbuttoned you placed your hands underneath her crisp white button up, reaching up underneath until you were fondling her breast underneath her bra. She through her head back moaning at your touch. You lifted your leg. Rubbing it up and down hers hinting at wanting her to pick you up.

She obliged

“I pictured our reunion over and over again sthandwa. And I couldn’t have imagined anything more romantic than this.” Shuri spoke against your lips. You hum in agreement. Taking your arms from around Shuri’s neck you find her wrist and pressing your favorite button on her Kimoyo beads, you’d take the same hand and tech inbetween the two of you, guiding her strap inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped, as your head fell back agains the wall. You’d missed your wife. Shuri took the opportunity to attack your neck kissing biting and sucking as she began to thrust into you.

“Yes! Yes fuck me like the fucking demon you are my love.” She growls into your ear and takes it up a notch. 

“Oh God Riri! If only you could see this! I can only imagine were a sight to see!” You giggle “But I heard you enjoy listening.” A groan came from Riri as she began to cry.

“Please. Please let me die!”

“Ahhhhh! Oh babe. Her tears make me so horny! Uhn im ready to cum already!” Shuri thrust deeper and harder giving you her all as you scream out your pleasure.

“Come for me my Angel. I’m right behind you.” Shuri’s breathing was sporadic, her eyes wild as she drooled onto your breast.

“Ooouuuuu Fuck me!!! I’m cumming Shuri! I’m going to cum so hard all over you.” A few more pumps and your release was splashing all over Shuri causing her to follow right behind you. The two of you held eachother in orgasmic bliss as Riri cried.

Shuri pulled out of you. Letting your legs that she had spread up against the wall down one by one. You fixed your dress and strolled over to where Riri hang. “Oh my love. I think she’s happy here.” Shuri buckled her pants over by the wall. Her clothes were a mess but she didn’t care to fix them. She looked on the outside now exactly as she was on the inside. 

EVIL. 

“She does huh? I was going to leave her fate to you. Let you take her out of her misery. Or release her and let her live her life this way.”

“Just let me die! Just let me die please!” You walk around her body giving her a once over. “Hmm. Let me think on it love. For now let’s go take a bath.” You grab Shuri’s hand leading her to the door as Riri screamed after you.

“No! Nononononono don’t leave me like this! I can’t take it any more!”

You turned out the light and Shuri closed the door behind the two of you.

Riri hung there. Crying. Darkness was the only thing she knew now. This was something she never thought Shuri capable of. Pure evil. None of what she’d done had been worth this. All she wanted was to die. To be taken out of her misery. She heard a noise. The door was opening and all she could do was hang there. Her voice gone from all the screaming. 

“Well, well, well. This is unfortunate.” Tolu’s voice rang throughout the room. Causing Riri’s lip to tremble. 

“I’ve come to do a job once again. A job that I can be honest and say I really don’t want to do. See my bosses. They’re so loving, so kind. If I were them I’d let you rot here in your mess. Die a slow, painful, torturous death. *sigh* But! Unfortunately they’ve agreed to take you out of your misery.”

Tolu removed a gun from her waist pointing it straight between Riri’s eyes.

“Any last words.” 

Riri could only let out a hoarse “Thank you”.

Tolu removed her shades, looking Riri over. “No. Thank you for the eyes, so that I can enjoy seeing you suffer in your final moments. But keep in mind this relief did not come from me. This my dear…. 

Is a gift….” Tolu pulled back the hammer.

“From the Udaku’s”

*BANG!*

A/N: I know this shit took forever but I hope you guys enjoyed and that it was worth the wait.

[kesujo]

Chapter 3 - Emergency

Previous chapter here.

Parker had lived the last few days in perpetual anxiety. Every time his phone buzzed he jumped, every time a knock came on his door he panicked, and every time he would be relieved that it wasn’t Jessica. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he would interact with Jessica after Hunter came back the very next day; he certainly wasn’t looking forward to navigating that awkward space. On top of that, how Parker would deal with Jessica the next time Hunter needed to go away for an extended period of time? Maybe he would line up his vacation days with Hunter’s business trips—but was that even feasible?

But now that he had reached the day before Hunter’s return, Parker felt like he could finally see the light: Hunter would come home and Jessica would stop with all her shenanigans. No way would she have the confidence to continue to cheat on her husband while he was home or a couple dozen minutes’ drive from it.

So perhaps Parker had let his guard down a little too much when he checked his phone, and by the time he noticed the text was from Jessica, he had already read the message.

              ‘I think something’s wrong with our toilet? It’s looking like it’s going to overflow, can you come over and help?🙏 🙏’

Attached was a picture of the toilet, the layout of the bathroom in the background being something he was unfortunately pretty familiar with already thus confirming that it was an actual picture taken of their apartment’s toilet with definitely too much water in it. However, that was the curious part: why was there only water? A toilet should only gain water after flushing, but why would she flush if she didn’t need to use it?

When Parker pointed this out, Jessica responded a few seconds later.

              ‘I heard the toilet make some kind of noise and got suspicious, so I looked at it but couldn’t find anything and tried flushing it and this happened :(’

He was at an impasse: he didn’t want to leave any evidence of his unwillingness to see Jessica in person alone, and because of this he wasn’t sure what he should do. Be baited into stepping foot into the apartment of his promiscuous next-door neighbor and risk getting roped into having sex with her again, or stay away and have an awkward conversation with Hunter about why he refused to help Jessica with their toilet problems.

 But there were two bathrooms—well, technically, one and a half as the second one only had the toilet, sink, and mirror—so Jessica could just use that one, couldn’t she? But the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. It probably wasn’t even that difficult of a fix, and what if Jessica needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, not thinking about her overflooded toilet, and end up with a mess? What was he going to say if Jessica brought this up to Hunter as retribution? Even if Parker wanted to use the excuse that he didn’t know how to fix it, why not at least try?

So, Parker did the best to steel himself before trudging back through the door next to his, and to his surprise found Jessica exiting the ‘office’ of their apartment—the extra room in the residence the couple made into an office space for use of both Jessica’s at-home work and Hunter’s convenience if he ever needed to work from home—to greet him in a relatively normal casual attire: an oversized, comfortable-looking silky white robe draped over her slim frame, loosely tied around her body but not enough to hide her great figure, the shining cloth stopping just above midway down her upper thigh. “Hey Parker, thanks for—why do you look so surprised?”

Parker shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Ah, are you shocked to see me in such normal attire?” she added with a suggestive smirk, slipping the robe down to expose one of her shoulders, “Were you expecting something a little sexier? Or maybe you want your repayment to be…”

“No, it’s really fine,” he insisted, marching past the giggling woman, “What have you tried so far?”

Jessica shrugged, pushing the robe back over her shoulders. “Not much, I didn’t want to make things worse so I just sorta left it. I have some of my own work to do, so do you mind if I just leave you in my bathroom?”

Parker almost couldn’t believe his ears. Was she not going to sexually harass him? Granted, it was only two encounters, but to his credit, it was their two most recent encounters that Parker started having this expectation of Jessica. “Yeah, no problem, I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

“Thanks! I left some tools I thought might be helpful in the bathroom, but if you need anything else, I’ll be in the office.” And with that, Jessica turned around and left a completely shell-shocked, but immensely grateful, Parker by himself.

The job itself didn’t take too long, and when he finished, he placed everything Jessica provided for him on the bathroom counter and headed out. “Jessica, I—”

He should’ve known better. That’s what Parker thought to himself when he stepped out of the bedroom and was met with Jessica, who had loosened up the robe to expose her entire neckline, the robe draped over her slim shoulders and revealing the beautiful laced two-piece lingerie underneath, her bountiful cleavage just barely visible.

Before Jessica could open her mouth, Parker interrupted her. “Text me if you’re still having problems, I gotta—”

Jessica grabbed his wrist before he could reach the foyer. “Why are you leaving without your payment?” she said, her sultry, sexy voice sending chills down his spine.

“No need,” he answered simply, tugging to get his hand free but surprisingly unable to do so. He looked back in shock, Jessica just wearing her now signature playful, seductive smirk.

“I insist,” she told him, pulling him towards her with a surprising amount of strength. Parker tumbled towards her a few steps, not suspecting her to do such a thing, ending up right in front of her. He was standing almost an entire head taller than Jessica, but she stood her ground, unintimidated and unphased, looking up at him with a confident gaze. “Unless, you want me to tell Hunter that you were unwilling to receive payment…?”

There it was. Her trump card. Parker hated how effective it was, but every time he entertained the possibility of Jessica leaking that information to his best friend and the resulting fallout from it, as much as he doubted Jessica would actually do it, that horrifying thought triumphed over every other emotion and potential course of action. “But—…why?” he replied, the frustration and desperation he was feeling seeping into his voice.

Jessica’s lips pulled into a frown, clasping his left hand with both of hers. “Do you…do you hate it that much?”

Parker’s heart nearly stopped. It was such a genuine display of sorrow, like she was a puppy and he had just kicked her, that he felt his insides twist inside as regret wracked his conscious. “No!” he replied automatically, feeling a little relief when Jessica’s facial expression lifted in joy and relief, “I mean—it’s not that—fuck.” What was it that he was saying—that he didn’t mind having sex with Jessica? “I mean I just—we shouldn’t do this. You can repay me some other way, but I got something else to, um, do.”

But Jessica wasn’t having any of it. She pulled him out of the foyer with renewed vigor, saying, “No, I want to repay you now,” she insisted, throwing her silky white robe off and tossing it to the side, leaving her only in her sexy lingerie. “Pants off,” she instructed, pulling him into the kitchen.

“Here?!”

Jessica nodded, excitement shining in her eyes. “Don’t worry, I pulled down all the blinds, no one will be able to see us—although, now that I mention it, that’s also pretty hot—”

“No no no,” the flustered man insisted, trying to back up but getting immediately pulled back by the scantily-clad woman in front of him, “We can’t—not here—” he stopped, sharply inhaling upon feeling Jessica’s slim digits slipping in between the hem of his boxers and his skin, trapping both layers of fabric between her fingers.

“Right. Here.” she insisted, pulling both his pants and boxers down in one motion, his already semi-erect dick springing out. Her gaze immediately locked onto it, her eyes lighting up. “Ooh, looks like you’re already getting prepared~” she teased with a grin exuding a child-like excitement, guiding him to the nearest chair and seating him on it, “But also like you might need a little more convincing.” Parker grimaced as Jessica got on her knees, her delicate fingers wrapping around his shaft while she did so.

Parker found himself frozen, unsure of what to do—he knew the repercussions of fighting back, but he also didn’t want to just let Jessica do whatever she wanted. When her face was positioned just centimeters in front of his cock, she looked up and shot him a beaming smile before his tip disappeared between her full, plump lips.

“Fuck,” was Parker’s automatic reaction, a moan accompanied by a sudden injection of pleasure as he watched Jessica’s alluring lips wrap tightly around the circumference of his cock, feeling the warm, wet, tight cavern of her mouth squeeze the length of his member. His fingers and toes naturally curled up as her skillful tongue ran along the underside of his dick, carefully coating it with her saliva. Seated on the chair, Jessica’s hands placed firmly on either side of his crotch, her eyes closed and her hair bobbing with the movement of her head as she took more and more of his cock inside her mouth, Parker couldn’t deny that the sight wasn’t sexy. But the thought that his was his best friend’s wife— “Fuck, Jessica, let’s not,” Parker begged, his plea falling on deaf ears.

“It’s so exciting, isn’t it?” the women clad in white lingerie said after releasing his dick, her delicate digits taking its place, wrapped firmly around the slippery length of his cock. By now, his dick was fully erect, Parker grimacing as waves of euphoria shot up his spine. He looked at the woman kneeling before him with a half-concerned, half-frustrated expression, something that didn’t seem to phase Jessica at all—in fact, it seemed to motivate her even more, the speed of her handjob increasing. “Having sex in the kitchen, the very place Hunter and I eat our meals every day, with his best friend,” she continued, her voice filled to the brim with lust and arousal.

“You have a really messed up definition of ‘exciting’,” Parker muttered, Jessica’s only response being a joyful giggle, shortly afterwards taking his dick back inside her mouth again. He hissed, another wave of ecstasy shooting up his body—and as much as he tried to hide it, the suddenness of it as well as the sheer pleasure from feeling his cock being sucked between her tight lips drew out enough of a reaction for Jessica to notice. Seeing it turned her on even more, her legs twitching slightly from the building arousal that was slowly overwhelming her body, her cheeks bulging with Parker’s cock and her juices starting to dribble down her slim, milky-white thighs.

Parker felt the tension in his nether regions start to tighten, only sped along when Jessica decided to use her hands in addition to her mouth, expertly twisting and pulling his shaft when her mouth retreated, her tongue dancing along the length of his shaft as it did so. His shaft was so slick with Jessica’s saliva that he could barely tell when his precum leaked out, Jessica lapping it up instantly. “Mmm,” she hummed in appreciation, her lips once again releasing Parker’s dick from the tight confines of her tight cavern, curling up into a smile. “Are you getting close?”

Parker, not knowing how to respond, simply just looked at her. “You—”

“Oh, I think I know what you need,” she said, pulling down her lacey bra, her abundant breasts springing free from its confines. Parker diverted his gaze, still having feelings of guilt at seeing the naked breasts of the betrothed of this closest friend, but not before noticing how her nipples were already standing away from her mounds, proudly erect. He swore under his breath, feeling himself get a little harder at the realization that the blowjob and handjob was actually turning Jessica on.

She pooled the undergarment underneath her tits and leaned forward, trapping his slick shaft in a hot, tight embrace between her twin mountains. His eyes were drawn back to the sight before him: Jessica’s tits, held in place by her own hands and were otherwise resting on his lap, almost completely engulfing the length of his member. But while the size of Jessica’s tits was nothing to scoff at, Parker’s dick was big enough to have an inch or two to spare. “Ooh, impressive, it’s sticking out,” Jessica noted, her eyes trained on the cock trapped in between her boobs, “I always had a feeling you were bigger than Hunter, but this proves it.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

Jessica smiled at him. “What?” she asked innocently, “You may be bigger, but he knows how to use his package more.”

Parker almost wanted to contest that statement but then realized he didn’t need to—after all, Jessica would probably just tease him even more, not to mention that he didn’t need to compete with Hunter. None of this was his decision, anyway. “He comes back tomorrow doesn’t he? Surely you can wait one day if you’re horny,” Parker once again tried to appeal to Jessica. Of course, as always, it failed.

“But,” she replied, biting her lower lip and squeezing her tits together, creating such a tight pressure around Parker’s cock he couldn’t help but hiss again, the action being all he could do to stop himself from outright moaning, “I want you. You know, I’ve been masturbating to you the past few days, but it was never satisfying enough. Now that I have the real thing, I want to just milk you dry,” Jessica put extra emphasis on the last three words, rubbing her tits along the length of his shaft and thereby leaving some of her saliva onto them.

“But—” this time, Parker was unable to suppress his moan as Jessica’s lips recaptured the tip of his dick, her tongue masterfully dancing around it in an erotic whirlwind of moves, lapping up a bit more of his precum that had leaked out while simultaneously pumping his cock with her tits. With every pump, Jessica’s mouth made its way a bit further down his shaft, her boobs pressing against his groin harder and harder. “Be rough with me Parker,” she urged, tilting her head up to look at him. Parker, however, couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze, his face already being slightly flushed. “Where was that aggression from our first two sessions?” she teased him, the guilt Parker was feeling only doubling down. “Grab my hair,” she instructed, grabbing his hands and guiding them to the back of her head, onto the silky-smooth texture of her almond hair, “and fuck my face.” With that, she unceremoniously dove back down onto his cock, her lips once again sealing around his thick member.

He reluctantly obeyed, pulling and pushing her head along with her rhythm. Jessica’s lips traveled closer and closer to his groin until eventually, her boobs became enough of a hindrance that she slipped them out and let them hang freely in front of his cock, now pressing against his balls as she readjusted her position to allow better access to his cock. While doing this, she opened her eyes and gave him a stern look, something Parker recognized instantly. Biting back his hesitance and regret and guilt, he gripped her hair harder and began using more force.

He could hear—he could feel her moan reverberate on his dick as her tightly sealed lips slid along the length of his dick, her tongue coating every inch of it with saliva. This time, perhaps because she was in less control, Jessica started to drool, dribbles of saliva running down her perfectly proportioned face—but she didn’t care. It took another two minutes before Jessica released his dick again, Parker breathing a sigh of relief, although that feeling didn’t last long as she immediately replaced it with her tits. “I know you can be rougher,” she said sternly, “use me like I’m your personal sex toy,” she told him, her lust apparent in her erratic pumping of her tits along his shaft, as if she was using them as a towel to dry off her spit, “We’re not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”

With that, she dove back down, and while Parker’s hands found their grip on Jessica’s hair again, he noticed Jessica’s own hands traveling down her body and cupping around her voluptuous ass, a sharp intake and moan following the slick sound of her fingers entering herself. The sight and sound turned him on even more, and this time, rather than be weighed down by the guilt of feeling such a thing, he used it as fuel to finish this as quickly as possible: his grip on Jessica’s hair tightened and he pushed her head all the way down his cock, thrusting upwards in conjunction, the result being his tip quickly hitting the back of her throat. Not even noticing the near absence of a gagging noise, he continued forcing Jessica’s mouth down his cock, her nose pressing against his groin with each thrust, but he didn’t care.

Jessica’s muffled moans and heavy breathing increased, her entire body shaking both with the force of Parker’s movements and her fingers sliding in and out of her own pussy, her free hand resting on his upper thigh as a stabilizer. Parker could feel Jessica’s erratic movements speeding up to match his own, opening her eyes and locking gazes with him. He looked back down at her, looked at her mouth being continuously impaled by his dick, her light-brown hair swaying about frantically, her eyes clouded with need and lust. The tension building in his lower stomach built and built until he knew he was at the edge. “I’m close,” he grunted, Jessica replying only with a simple encouraging nod. Knowing he had no other choice, with a final groan, he broke their eye lock and released directly into her mouth.

Not missing a beat, her hand emerged from behind her to help brace herself—traces of her juices splashing onto his upper thigh—as she accepted every surge of semen entering her mouth with ease, her cheeks bulging with both his dick and its seed. After finishing, Parker leaned back in the chair to take a breather as Jessica once again let go of his cock, her cheeks still bulging slightly with his semen. She sat on her hind legs, her eyes still trained on Parker, her lips pulled into a smile. After finally locking eyes with him, she swished the hot substance inside her mouth with her tongue a few times before swallowing it. “Mmm,” she hummed with delight, her eyes being drawn towards Parker’s slowly hardening erection. “Looks like you got more,” she noted, scooching closer to him again.

“No, I can’t,” he feigned exhaustion, cursing at himself as his eyes inadvertently fell upon Jessica’s hardened nipples, and then to her legs shining with her own juices in an attempt to divert his gaze, finally just turning his head and looking away, his erection growing even more at the erotic sight.

“I believe in you,” she said cheekily, delicately wrapping her slim digits around his cock still slippery with her own saliva. Parker clenched his teeth, feeling his arousal building yet again as Jessica rubbed the hardening member, stimulating the nerves on the sensitive sex organ.

“Jessica—” he bit his lip, suppressing another moan as Jessica once again enveloped his cock in the hot, tight embrace of her tits, pumping it along the length of his shaft. “I already came, let me go home,” he begged, Jessica tilting her head in a manner much too cute for someone who was drying her spit off his dick with her boobs.

“And leave me here all horny like this? I don’t think so,” she said, releasing her boobs’ embrace of his cock after a few more pumps. She stood up afterwards, the panties that she had pushed halfway down her legs now pushed onto the ground, the white-lace bra similarly dropped onto the ground along with its matching pair. “Come here. And strip fully.”

Parker watched Jessica walk into the kitchen; upon noticing Parker hesitate, she looked back at him with questioning eyes. Understanding the meaning behind the implied question, Parker sighed and got up, letting his pants and boxers drop to the ground, throwing off his shirt as well before joining her. He felt out of place, like there was a pervading sense of something not being right—except this time that feeling was spot on, considering he was walking around naked inside the residence he had meals with his best friend just a week ago. As he neared Jessica, who was resting on the kitchen’s island table, he noticed her eyes trained on his lower chest, admiring his abs. “Man, if only you were able to put those muscles to use and fuck me like a rabbit in heat,” she commented.

“This is so wrong, holy fuck,” the words tumbled out of Parker’s mouth, the strangeness of the situation forcing the words out of his mouth.

“It is, isn’t it? That’s why it’s so fun though,” Jessica replied with great excitement in her voice, turning around and resting her elbows on the black marble island table, sticking her luscious ass at him, using her slim digits to spread her luscious ass cheeks apart to reveal a mess of shimmering folds situated in the middle, damp with her precum. “It’s about time you fed my other lips your white honey.”

Parker carefully placed his hands on her wide hips, a surge of something rushing through his body upon feeling the soft skin fill his palms and looking at the beautiful pair of vaginal lips, glistening in the bright kitchen light from the sexy woman’s juices, her silky white legs twitching in excitement. But the more he neared Jessica, the more hesitant he became; what if they messed up? What if they accidentally left a trace of their crime somewhere? How could he even look Hunter in the face ever again? Or eat another meal on the table in the chair his dear wife gave a blowjob/handjob/titjob to his best friend?

“Fuck, Parker, hurry,” she whined impatiently, turning her head to look back at him, “I need to feel your thick cock filling my tight cunt~”

Another wave of guilt struck him as he felt his cock twitch in response to her dirty talk, Parker gritting his teeth. Why was he going along with this? Where would this put them? How was he going to interact with the two in the future? Weren’t these the type of things that always, inevitably, were discovered by the husband and ended in divorce? Was Parker just helping this process along? “This is—I can’t,” he said, his grip loosening on her waist. Jessica’s gaze turned from lustful and expectant to confused and … worried?

“Remem—”

“I don’t want to be the cause of your divorce,” Parker said, stepping away from the woman bent over the island table in the kitchen, “I-I don’t know what’s happened between you two recently, but I don’t want to be involved in it.”

Jessica turned around, her confused look eventually turning into a smile with such warmth that it momentarily shocked the guilt out of Parker. “Ooh, so you think I’m doing all of this because you think my relationship with Hunter has been going down the drain?”

“…So what is it then?” Parker said, taking a step back as Jessica took one towards him.

“The sex has still been great,” she reassured him, “I just … let’s say had a sudden realization, or maybe you can say motivation,” she suddenly lurched forward, grabbing Parker’s hands before he could create much more distance, “Don’t worry, Hunter and I are still fine—the only way you can ruin our marriage is if you decide to disobey me. Now come back and fuck me already,” she said, pulling him back to the kitchen table, letting him go inches away from the edge of the island table before turning around to present her delectable ass to him. “That kind of thing you should only worry about if you don’t stuff my pussy full with your cock right now,” the last two words were spoken with impatience, the lust returning to her voice.

Parker, who had admittedly gotten a bit softer in that brief exchange, found himself instantly getting hard again as his eyes shifted onto his target: Jessica’s wet folds, the beautiful set of pink pussy lips quivering in the cool air of the apartment invitingly. His hands returned to Jessica’s waist, an action that caused a slight gasp and an eager turn of the head. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, trying to swallow the guilt that was giving him pause. He closed the distance, running his shaft along Jessica’s drenched entrance, the brunette letting out a sexy squeal in soprano, her legs visibly shaking in response.

“Fu-Fuck~” her back arched, her hips bucking in an attempt to get more contact with the object of her pleasure. With just a few rubs, Parker could feel nearly his entire shaft completely covered in Jessica’s bodily fluids again—except this time, it wasn’t her saliva. “Fuck, I’m going to video call Hunter right now if you don’t fucking stick that monster inside me right now,” she moaned in a frustrated voice.

Parker acquiesced, using a hand to line it up before swiftly pushing his dick inside the warm confines of Jessica’s womanhood.

A loud moan erupted from Jessica, Parker grimacing at feeling the moist walls tightly hugging his shaft gliding past his length. “Oh god,” Jessica breathed out, her eyes fluttering shut, “Fuck, god it feels so fucking good,” her hips, which Parker had returned to placing both hands on, aided the process of fully entering her. “Come here, bend over and massage my tits,” she instructed, Parker again acquiescing, groaning at the feeling of the sexy woman’s ass pressing against his groin as he bent over the curvaceous woman and reached around her shoulders, both hands cupping her mounds that were almost touching the cold marble surface of the table they were leaning against.

Parker could start to feel that tension in his lower region start growing again, the simultaneous attack of the soft, malleable skin in his palms combined with the hot, wet muscle wrapped tightly around his cock as he continued to advance, stopping every so often to give Jessica time to accommodate the guest before resuming. It was over a minute, maybe two, of nothing but the melodic moans of Jessica filling both the room and Parker’s ears before he finally buried his dick to the hilt inside the woman wracked with ecstasy. “Fuck, you’re that fucking big huh?” Jessica gasped, feeling his now drenched groin, wet with her own juices, firmly pressed against her ass. “I’m going to use this opportunity to train you: speak to me as you would fucking the sex-crazed slut I am.”

“Wh-What?”

A grin found themselves on Jessica’s lips as she turned her head, looking directly into Parker’s eyes that were just inches away from her own. He diverted his gaze in embarrassment, his face flushed a noticeable shade of pink. “As I said. Call me a dirty whore that cheats on her husband, tell me how much you love fucking my tight pussy, or how you love feeling my ass slap against your groin as you pound me into the table I make my husband meals for. Tell me how you love feeling my tits in your hands as your cock destroys my cunt, how you love the sound I make while pinching my nipples, or how the color red contrasting my pale skin turns you on; tell me how you love using my body like your personal play thing and then coat the inside of my pussy with your cum.”

“…I can’t—I can’t do that.”

While that was what Parker said, his body reacted differently. Just hearing the slew of filthy words leave Jessica’s pretty lips stirred something inside him. What was it? A building lust, hidden under layers of ‘properness’? A primal desire buried under years of built-up intellect? Now more than ever, he felt his lust and desire being held back by a thread, the surging tidal wave of arousal pushing against the wall of guilt and societal standards, testing his patience and self-control.

Jessica ground her hips against Parker’s, eliciting a moan from the unsuspecting man. “Practice makes perfect,” she told him, a billowing tension building in her lower regions the more she felt the intrusive object stir her insides, “Plus, if you don’t…” from seemingly out of nowhere, Jessica grabbed her phone—the same one that took the scandalous picture—from off the table and waved it playfully at him.

It was those words that pushed him to make a decision.

Holding back, trying not to give in to the delectable meal Jessica presented in front of him, was a mountainous task. Dealing with the potential result of him perpetually holding back and disobeying Jessica was also a mountainous challenge: losing a friend that close to him, not to mention the immense guilt he would feel knowing he was the cause of Hunter’s devastation, was just a wall too steep to climb. But if he just let go and gave in, he could kill two birds with one stone—so he let down the wall and let the torrent of lust and desire pour in, to overtake his body and submit to the beast raring to fuck the tantalizing woman before him to oblivion.

“You really are persistent, aren’t you?” Parker growled directly into Jessica’s ear, the woman moaning loudly in response to Parker’s fierce thrust. The words coming out of his words just felt … wrong. His stomach churned and his brain fired off massive ‘holy fuck this is bad’ signals. But at the same time, he could feel his more primal instincts within him directing his movements: Jessica’s sexy figure bent in front of him, her pussy lips spread wide apart to accommodate his cock wedged firmly in between the wet folds; her ass and wide hips showing off her smooth, milky white skin; her gently arched back, her slim arms resting on the table, dribbles of her precum trailing down her long legs … at this moment, he had no need for logical, rational, moral thoughts. “You like taking the cock of your husband’s best friend that much?”

“Y-Yes!” she moaned, her arch backing and her breasts being pushed into Parker’s hands. He took advantage of it and squeezed the soft skin underneath his palms, kneading them as if they were Playdough. They readily responded, her supple skin surrendering to his absolute will, Jessica moaning loudly again as she felt her tits roughed up by the man’s large hands. “I-I’m a naughty wife who loves feeling her pussy pounded in by her next-door neighbor’s thick cock!” her voice came out shakily, her entire body shaking with the force of Parker’s thrusts.

It was like a beautiful melody: the melodic sounds of his sex organ ramming into hers, the harmonic string of salacious sounds emitted from her mouth, even the percussive grunts occasionally escaping Jessica and Parker’s mouths from the force of his thrusts, it was all a masterpiece that only pushed Parker deeper into his trance. “Your pussy is so fucking tight and your entire lower body is drenched, does my cock really turn you on that much?”

“Y-Yes!” was her breathless reply.

“You want me to rub your tits red? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t pick your husband up at the airport tomorrow?”

“Yes! Fuck me harder!”

Hearing the words roll off her tongue, slightly slurred from the delirium incurred by the pleasure Jessica was experiencing, only pulled him deeper into the pit of desire. He felt a fire burn inside his body, every fiber of his being burning with desire, his mind clouded in an impossibly dense steamy fog of lust, the pleasure coming up his body in waves from the penis that was being suffocated by the tight, wet walls of Jessica fueling it. “Your ass is so goddamn soft, fuck it feels so good,” he said, moving his right hand back to slap the jiggling fat on her bottom, “You like that?”

“I—fuck—I love it!” This time, her voice was audibly less controlled; on the verge of cracking, her before pure almost singsong-y words now turned into a desperate scream filled with pure, primal need.

“Tell me what you want,” he growled, slapping her ass a third time.

“Punish this naughty wife’s ass, fuck my pussy raw and slap my ass until your hand imprints on my skin!”

“You really are a fucking slut, aren’t you?” Parker growled, his lust and tsunami of pleasure overpowering the faint but noticeable bit of fatigue settling in on the lower half of his body, “Hunter’s coming home tomorrow and you want me to mark you?”

“Fuck, yes!” she moaned, screamed, the scratchy quality of it revealing how hoarse she was becoming.

“You must—” with every word, Parker’s palm made a swift, strong connection with Jessica’s ass, bouncing fiercely from the strength and speed of his movements. “Be—” Parker had to make sure to space out his words slightly to give himself ample time to wind up, tensing the muscles in his shoulder before swiftly bringing his open palm onto her bare ass. “A real—” with every slap, Jessica let out an ecstatic mewl, her nearly hoarse voice limiting the volume of her pleasure. “Bitch—” Parker could feel her walls start to clamp down on his dick even harder. She was drawing close, as was he. “In heat—” Every slap turned the previously white skin to a light shade of pink, every contact of his palm to her ass causing that area on her behind to grow a shade darker. “To want—”Watching the shockwaves ripple about Jessica’s supple ass was another sight to behold. It certainly made doing it more inviting than the mewls and moans coming from the submissive woman already made it. “Yourself marked—” Parker’s own hand started to feel the effects of his slaps, his palm also getting noticeably redder—but he didn’t care. The pleasure compensated well and above the pain from his hands. “The day—” The sound of his palm striking her ass grew more and more crisp, and both of them loved it. “Before—” Parker’s well-aimed strikes started to create a noticeable palm-like shape on her ass. While his more rational, moral side cringed and felt bad, the predominant, lustful side was just more turned on by it. “Your husband—” Parker’s shoulders were also starting to feel the fatigue, but he didn’t let up for one second. “Comes home.”

“Ahn yes—fuck—I’m your bitch,” she half-mewled, half gasped, her ass now a noticeable shade of deep red. In the back of his mind, Parker debated whether or not this would be a problem for Hunter to notice, especially since the couple were almost assured to have sex shortly after his return from his business trip, but the forefront of his mind noticed just how sexy it looked. Indeed, the stark contrast between her pure, snowy-white skin with the harsh red hue on her ass only turned him on even more.

The previously guilt-ridden man, his inhibitions now released, was unrelenting. With every thrust inside Jessica’s tight cavern, with every slap of the succulent skin on her butt, he pushed Jessica further and further against the cold, unyielding black marble island table, the delicate skin on the other side of her ass started growing a similar shade of red, albeit not as dark. The coldness bit into her privates, the contrast with the hot connection just inches away turning her arousal up to 11. Sure it was painful, but to Jessica, that pain was heavenly. Feeling Parker’s lips on her neck, nipping at her soft skin on her nape while he rubbed her tits raw, pushing and pinching and pulling the sizable pair of mounds, she found her eyes starting to roll to the back of her head. “Parker, choke me~”

Those words gave him hesitation. Even the primal instincts that were driving him halted for a brief moment, taking a second to process the words. Sensing the hesitation, Jessica reached down and directed the hand on her breast to her delicate-looking neck. But despite Jessica’s command and despite feeling Jessica’s thin, delicate nape against the palm of his hand and fingers, he couldn’t bring himself to even close his fingers around her frail-seeming neck. “Choke. Me.” Jessica demanded, shooting him a glare, filled with a strange mixture of impatience, frustration, and lust. “I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

Parker obliged, his fingers wrapping around the sides of her nape. He could hear Jessica’s moan of satisfaction, his fingers slowly increasing in grip strength. “Harder,” she egged him on, her previously well-combed hair now chaotically flailing about as her entire body shook with their synchronized movements, his other hand resting on her waist while the hand around her neck slowly closing in on the beautiful, alluring woman. “More—fuck, I’m so close,” she said, impatient.

Parker couldn’t help but feel himself cringe as he increased his grip strength, genuinely scared that what he held in his hand would snap at any moment. Surprisingly, it held firm, her movements become more erratic and her pussy clamping down on his cock the more he tightened his grip on the small woman’s neck. Soon, Jessica found herself unable to make much noise at all. The simultaneous attack of pleasure from all sources: the faint but noticeable, stinging pain on her ass; a raw, stretched feeling on her tits and swollen, erect nipples; the cold stinging pain at the front side of her crotch as it repeatedly rubbed and was pushed onto the cold, marble surface; Parker’s cock stuffed to the brim inside her, each thrust bringing with it a wave of euphoria; her pussy walls convulsing around the shaft of the phallic object being pumped inside her as its tip lightly kissed the entrance of her womb before retreating again; the wet sound of his groin slapping against her ass, the resulting shockwave barely having much time to settle before the next stroke; the delicious, delicious pain coming from the firm pressure on her neck; the sudden reduction in oxygen intake causing slight light-headedness; everything at once was simply overwhelming. Her mind filled with nothing but ecstatic pleasure, her eyes half-lidded with tears gently rolling down her cheeks, her plump lips parted and her tongue almost lolled out of her mouth, her chest heaving as it attempted to make up for the pressure around her nape, her tits being pressed against the cold island table as a result, she couldn’t even give Parker a warning before climaxing.

“Fuck, it’s so hot,” Parker cursed, feeling the rush of bodily fluid wash over his cock, “You really came without warning me first, huh?” Parker’s deep growl filled Jessica’s eardrums that only turned her on even more, removing his hand from Jessica’s neck, “You really want to be punished, don’t you?”

She nodded fiercely, her entire body convulsing violently with her orgasm, the shaking causing Parker’s dick to almost act like a stirring stick for the soup of erotic fluids inside the married woman’s vagina.

“You want me to fill your pretty, slutty pussy with my cum?”

She nodded fiercely once more, her mind still on cloud nine from the high she was experiencing from her orgasm, having not been able to find her voice quite yet.

“Do you want it? Tell me how badly you want me to cum inside you.”

“I—” Jessica coughed, her voice slightly hoarse, but continued after quickly clearing her throat, “I want to feel your hot cum inside my slutty pussy, I want to feel your thick semen fill my insides and trickling down my legs…”

“Good, then take it,” Parker grunted, the tension finally fully unraveling itself as he reached his euphoric release after one final, long, fierce stroke, rope after rope of viscous semen shooting directly into the woman bent over the sturdy marble table. Jessica joined Parker, shuddering at the sudden injection of warm, viscous liquid into her sensitive sex organ, their simultaneous moans and grunts of pleasure filling the apartment for the next few seconds until Parker’s orgasm finally subsided.

After the adrenaline in Parker’s system started to subside, fatigue settled in. He placed both hands down next to Jessica, panting desperately to catch his breath, the now all-too familiar feeling of guilt settling in as well.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. God damn it. What did he just do? Why did he allow himself to do that?

Parker pulled away from Jessica, a soft whine emitting from her. He took another look at her, the sight at which horrified him: her ass was noticeably, noticeably red, and in a shape that resembled a palm much too closely. And not only that, her neck even had traces of red fingers along her otherwise fair, pale skin. “Fuck, I—”

“Where are you going? Didn’t you say you were going to punish me?” Jessica, who had turned around and was leaning against the table, said seductively. “Cumming inside me was hardly a punishment,” she commented, her hand scooping the excess liquid dripping out of her with her slender index and middle finger, feeding it directly into her own mouth.

Parker would be lying if he said the sight didn’t turn him on, but right now, that wasn’t what he needed. He did not need to find himself in another state where he felt like the best course of action was to let his more primal instincts take over. “You—You need to take care of those,” he said, motioning towards the red streak on her tits, “We shouldn’t do any more.”

Jessica looked down and sighed. “Fuck, you’re right,” she murmured, “I almost forgot...”

He couldn’t believe it. Was Jessica actually being reasonable for once?

“Shame that we had to end there, right when it was getting fun,” she said, looking back up at him and smiling brightly, nodding at his erection that hadn’t quite fully vanished yet, “Next time, we’re not stopping until I’m done with you.”

Parker already had his back facing Jessica, picking up his boxers and pants that was laying on the tiled floor of the quaint apartment. “There’s not going to be a next time,” he stated, trying for as firm a voice as possible.

“Oh, no there will be,” she said, shortly afterwards the chaotic sounds of moans and sex filling the room. Parker whipped his head around, his eyes widening in horror as they landed on a brief video clip of Jessica’s half-lidded eyelids, parted lips, and bare tits with swollen nipples swinging about fiercely with Parker, clearly visible behind her, shaking in unison with the woman now wearing a Cheshire grin. “That is, unless you want this video to find it’s way to Hunter’s phone.”

Not wanting to think about it much longer, Parker hastily put on the rest of his clothes and rushed back to his apartment.

God … he thought this would all be over when Hunter returned, but to learn that he wasn’t safe even after Jessica’s husband returned home was disheartening. How long would this go on? Until he finally submitted to Jessica’s wiles and desires, or until Hunter finally, inevitably, caught them?

Next chapter here.

[dkniade]

Contrast and Unity in the White/Black Imagery of Genshin Impact Quest Titles

Dragonspine 1.2 & 2.3 Events, Fontaine Act I

Game: Genshin Impact

Developer: HoYoverse

Fan Localization: Dusk

An aside from when I tried to explain the meaning of Kreideprinz’s Chinese term—

In Chinese, 白垩 is used to refer to Albedo with varying meanings but in the English version the term is even less consistent: 

Concealed Talon item description 白垩层 (baie ceng) = “Cretaceous Layer” (of soil) localized as “Cretaceous”

Albedo’s Story Quest Chapter title 白垩之章 (baie zhi zhang) = “Cretaceous Chapter” localized as “Princeps Cretaceous Chapter”

Albedo’s second Ascension voiceline, 白垩 (baie) = “chalk”/“Cretaceous”, localized as “albedo”, the second stage of the alchemical magnum opus

(even though in the context of alchemy, the albedo (Latin: “whitening”) stage should be 白化 (baihua, whitening) in Chinese because the albedo stage does not refer to chalk/limestone)

Albedo’s title 白垩之子 (baie zhi zi) = possibly varies slightly depending on context that it appears in, localized as “Kreideprinz”

Xingqiu’s “About Albedo” voiceline, 白垩老师 (baie laoshi) = (teacher) “Mr. Cretaceous” (Latin) or “Mr. Chalk” (English) or “Mr. Kreide” (German) localized as “Mr. Kreideprinz”

Version 1.2’s name 白垩与黑龙 (baie yu heilong) = “The White Chalk and the Black Dragon” or “Cretaceous and the Black Dragon”

or one can localize it in German like how they did the 4.0 Chapter IV Act I “Prelude of Blancheur and Noirceur” (French: “Prelude of Whiteness and Blackness” or ”Prelude of Innocence and Darkness”)

though, officially, Version 1.2’s name 白垩与黑龙 is localized as “The Chalk Prince and the Dragon”

Speaking of black and white in titles, another aside—

Don’t you know that HoYoverse loves juxtaposing white/black or light/shadow in its quest titles

1.2 Dragonspine event

Chinese: 白垩与黑龙 (Baie yu Heilong) = “The White Chalk and the Black Dragon” 

Official English: “The Chalk Prince and the Dragon”

2.3 Dragonspine event

Chinese: 皑尘与雪影 (Aichen yu Xueying) = “White Dust and Snowy Shadows” 

Official English: “Shadows Amidst Snowstorms”

皑 from 白雪皑皑 (baixue aiai) usually refers the whiteness of snow specifically, so 皑尘 as “(snowy) white dust” is just their over-the-top way to say “snow”.

“Snowy Dust and Snowy Shadows” sounds too humorous though.

I’VE BEEN WANTING TO SAY THIS FOR A LONG TIME NOW: of course symbolism-wise it’s likely that “white dust” refers to Albedo, “snow” refers to the Cryo Whooperflower Albedo, and “shadow” refers to Primordial Albedo, with Durin encompassing all three as the shadow dragon that lies dead—like dust—in the snowy mountain.

HoYoverse being HoYoverse has found a way to say white and black without even using the hanzi for white (白) and black (黑) back in 2.3.

4.0 Fontaine Act I

Chinese: 白露与黑潮的序诗 (Bailu yu Heichao de Xushi) = Prelude of White Dew and Black Tides

Official English: “Prelude of Blancheur and Noirceur” 

with French terms translated: “Prelude of Whiteness and Blackness” or “Prelude of Innocence and Darkness”

Given the information in 4.0, I would assume that “white dew” refers to Furina and “black tides” refers to Neuvillette seeing how Furina’s always at the front of key visuals and Neuvillette’s always looming ominously over the background, but you can also think of it as innocence vs guilt, I suppose.

POETIC ALLUSION UPDATE: 白露 alludes to the Chinese poem “蒹葭”(Jianjia) = “Reed”

from the ancient collection of poems, 诗经 (Shijing)

The poem is basically the narrator talking about not being able to reach their lover, who’s on the other side of the water (lake?)

The act’s Chinese title is already over-the-top—since most people would look at it and think “ah white and black and something about water, got it”—so localization’s aim is to match the fancy feel and not the accuracy ‘cause honestly if you localize all that into French it’d be too long. This makes sense…

Though, the implication that French holds such a high prestige that its mere presence is enough to balance out some loss of meaning from the Chinese title is… strange, now that I think of it.

白露与黑潮的序诗 (Prelude of White Dew and Black Tides) in French would be “Prélude de la rosée blanche et des marées noires”… I think. (Please correct me if I’m wrong.)

This time HoYoverse found another way to say white and black while using the hanzi characters AND STILL BE EXTRA BECAUSE THEY ALLUDED TO A CHINESE POEM OF COURSE THEY DID. ARCHONS, man…

New drinking game: take a shot whenever black/white or dark/light is juxtaposed in a Genshin title/name of any language, take another shot if they don’t actually use the word/character for black/white in the target language, take another if they alluded to a Chinese poem or literature in the original LOL

[holy-puckslibrary]

← previous month’s round-up

here's a list of everything i published in the month of DECEMBER

˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗ 

━ see the special events below!

━ none this month! 

━ FICMAS (tumblr)

˗ˏˋ THE MRS. CLAUSE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — NATE MACKINNON x claus!reader premise — when she took the reins as the world's chief claus, her father forgot to disclose one very pressing hidden clause in the job contract…  cw — me getting way too into the lore of the council of legendary figures, reader is blinded by stress and nate is in lurrrvvv, and some mild angst wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ HOLIDATE ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader premise — in order to avoid the annual interrogation into his love life, jack hughes enlists his longtime friend to be his totally platonic plus-one for the holidays. cw — alcohol mention, jack being moody while luke and quinn are menaces, and reader and jack are idiots (in love, affectionate) wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ CANDY CANE GRAM ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — teacher!JEFF SKINNER x teacher!reader premise — their students decide to play matchmaker before a school dance; will their scheming pay off? cw — me using jeff as an outlet for the degree in education i don’t use bc i would like to be financially stable, jeff and reader being sneaky sneaky, kiddos trying to play cupid, and my history major jumping out! wc — 2.4k

˗ˏˋ THE NANNY ON THE SHELF ˎˊ˗ ➤ series masterlist   pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x reader premise — in erik's absence, his nanny takes over staging the family's elf on the shelf in order to keep the magic alive for his children. results are… questionable. cw — pre-relationship/pre-therapy erik being a dick and josie being sassy (if you can’t handle the heat, get outta the kitchen — looking @ you ej…) wc — 1.1k

˗ˏˋ TRADITION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing — dbf!SIDNEY CROSBY x reader premise — it may not be the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition. cw — unspecified age gap (everyone's legal, dw), smokin' grass (oiud, a joint, mary jane, whichever term you want to use), 18+ content — innocence/corruption kink, adult language/dirty talk, sexual activity under the influence between two consenting adults, fingering (r), oral (r), slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected p in v + creampie (a very merry chrysler to you) wc — 4.4k

find more more holiday content ˗ˏˋ HERE ˎˊ˗

your fellow readers (and my lovely patrons) gifted you some spine-chilling spice this holiday season! be sure to thank them for their generosity when you get a chance <33

˗ˏˋ FARMER’S DAUGHTER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — foreman!JOSH ANDERSON x farmer’s daughter!reader premise — she’ll always remember the time she let her daddy's foreman soil her in the middle of his pasture… cw — backdoor play, costumes/roleplay (kinda sorta), + risky location/exhibitionism, implied age gap, outdated patriarchal beliefs, innocence kink, corruption kink, slight humilation kink, spit as lube, dacryphilia, slight overstim, unprotected p in v, possessive!josh x virgin!reader (outdated definition and beliefs here, too) and just general filth wc — 3.5k

˗ˏˋ BONER-KILLER ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — camp counselor!JACK HUGHES x camp counselor!reader premise — no machetes, no hockey masks… at least, that’s what he promised. cw — a few jokes about death/dying and murder, rather short n tame ("vanilla") barely-there spice from me???, jack being a little shithead (and a little switchy omg), a smidge of angst, and spoopy ending… (kevin heimbach hive rise!) wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ NEW PERSPECTIVE ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — (soft)dark!stalker!QUINN HUGHES x grey!reader premise — in his own shadowy domain, he could be whatever and whoever he wanted… cw — dom!reader + subby-as-hell!quinn (ngl he’s kind of a pathetic loser here, but that’s why we love him), m!receiving oral (perhaps too much idk you tell me) + cum play x2, quinn rendered dumb and speechless by his raging humiliation kink and his need for degradation (and an itty bitty bit of praise — quinn: new kink unlocked), i have been plagued w ball play as of late so im subjecting yall to it, mention of edging and orgasm denial, oh and just some pheromone kink bits and a cute lil oral fixation moment or two, nothing to see here! wc — 4k

˗ˏˋ LIVE DEMONSTRATION ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) ➤ series masterlist pairing(s) — camboy!MITCH MARNER x camgirl!reader (+ some special guests) premise — their first performance with a live studio audience! cw — cameos…bc cameo lol, public sex (a literal audience), unprotected boinking + creampie, some reach-around finger-bang action, unprotected coitus + cum play bc mitchy is nasty, praise kink influencer!mitch — "content, baby, content!" (name that vlogger lol), brief past phone sex (kinda? idk you'll see), discussion of sex work and the selling of items wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ A PEARL ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — captain!ERIK KARLSSON x reader premise — its the rum talking… or is it? cw — stranger sex and CMNF, 18th century purity culture and oral (f receiving)  wc — 600 (preview of my POTC au)

find more spooky content ˗ˏˋ HERE  ˎˊ˗

━ WHAT I POSTED ON PATREON 

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — firefighter!QUINN HUGHES x reader premise — over a decade ago, jack hughes broke her little sister’s heart. out of loyalty, she hasn’t spoken to his elder brother, quinn hughes, since. the holiday season is brimming with miracles; will a mended bridge make the list this year? cw — angst with a fluffy ending, quinn and the reader being overprotective idiots, named sister!oc (for the reader), kinda non-linear timeline, and less dialogue from me than usual wc — 2.7k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — baker!NICO HISCHIER x wedding planner!reader premise — nico, the owner of the most sought-after bakery in town, has always had a crush on the reader, an equally popular wedding planner in the area. never more than acquaintances, they still bonded over a shared love of sweetening memories for their special clients. without words, he can tell something is different this time – something is wrong. something happened last christmas; can nico save her from tears this year? cw — angst, mention of infidelity (not on or by nico), a failed engagement and some scrooge-esque pessimism, and some tooth-rotting, cliché fluff! wc — 1.6k

˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — MICHAEL BERZATTO (fx’s the bear) x reader premise — he should be at the celebrating, but he isn’t. he was, but not anymore. not after she called. instead, he’s playing… knight in shining sleigh for his kid brother’s childhood playmate. there’s only one way for this night to end… and it won’t land either of them on the nice list this year… cw — unreliable narrator + self-deprecation, age gap, non-canon timeline for the bear (because i don't want to do math lol), mention of reader x ritchie and implied past carmie x reader, alcohol, a lot of degradation, thigh riding / dry humping, orgasm denial, spit play, unhealthy people in an unhealthy non-relationship relationship, a pinch of misogyny, slight impact play, and slight inappropriate use of a santa costume… wc — 2.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐎 ˎˊ˗ (social media au) pairing(s) — JACK HUGHES x reader; jack hughes x olivia rodrigo (iykyk); COLE CAUFIELD x reader premise — inspired by the song of the same name off of sab’s fruitcake ep cw — mention of cheating, me villianizing jack a wee bit, well-deserved cole love, and me having too much fun with famous!reader

˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x nanny!reader ➤ series masterlist  premise — (set before the main story) every member of the johnson household loves christmas. all but the patriarch, whose heart seems to be two sizes too small. there is one person, however, who might put things right… cw — too much time in grinch!erik’s head, erik being a douche canoe for no reason and mopey because he’s emotionally constipated, alarming lack of josie and reese, and mel stirring the pot wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ (𝐑𝐄𝐃, 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN (tg: maverick) x bradshaw!reader premise — a christmas miracle is orchestrated by the one person she least expects. cw — a cheesy nickname, mention of candy, an only child writing sibling banter, me not being over goose’s death (that i’ve only seen once because i physically can't experience that again), a smidge of angst followed by tooth-rotting fluff, a wee bit suggestive at the end, and my inability to keep a story contained to one upload wc — 1.8k

˗ˏˋ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐑𝐒. ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — professor!SIDNEY CROSBY x TA / grad student!reader premise — red lips, green envy. cw — nameless biotches trying to steal our man!! power imbalance, secret situationship, references to sex but nothing descriptive, and angst angst angst but some fluff for good measure too, some oc deets added to the reader (nothing physical) for story purposes, and insecurity being a bitch but sid is so words of affirmation slay <3 wc — 2.3k new au verse coming soon!

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader premise — during an island getaway, festive fury brings unspoken truths to the surface. cw — white people vacationing in hawai’i, mention of alcohol and liquid courage, reference to (past) underage drinking and (past) sex between consenting minors, mention of elementary age-bully, matty being a jealous, elitist douche via inner monologue and a loser-boy via sudden on-set of foot-in-mouth disease (very dangerous — stay safe out there, y’all!), reference to virginity / a lil slut-shaming, angst with a fluffy, suggestive ending wc — 3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐘 ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — grinch!JAMIE DRYSDALE x martha may!reader premise — jamie hates christmas, but it may just all be a misunderstanding. cw — jamie being a passive aggressive baby because he's emotionally constipated, references to childhood bullying, emotional cheating / physical cheating (not on jamie or the reader, brief and kinda wholesome), jamie smoking a cig bc ~stressed~ (and a lack of healthy coping skills), mention of blood/violence (super brief), and references to an angel tree topper but no religion or religious components wc — 2.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — single dad!MATT MARTIN x ballerina!reader premise — its the first role many young ballerinas aspire toward, and matt’s daughter is no different. however, matt has different aspirations for this season’s sugar plum fairy… cw — an age gap (unspecified, but mentioned), naughty things in a risky and wholesome location, me caring too much about stage costumes, non-hockey playin’ matt (implied), unprotected p in v coitus, and matt being a dirty simpy dog for his kid’s favorite person wc — 1.3k

˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖! ˎˊ˗ pairing(s) — JOE BURROW x reader premise — an unexpected road trip with his best friend’s little sister becomes a bit more than joe bargained for—in the best way possible. cw — insensitive comment about concussions, awkward!joe 🤍's the reader, + reader has a fear of storms and an overprotective brother wc — 1.4k

˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — JEREMY SWAYMAN x reader premise — his california girl has never seen snow. this isn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she's not complaining… cw — this is straight-up p*rn. cum sharing/cum play, unprotected anal sex + ass eating from the back🙊, manhandling (affectionate), bondage via ribbon, spitting <3, minor objectification + minor discussion of injury, hints of overstim, personification of body parts, and dom!sway being a downright filthy menace ass man with a condescending potty mouth (pun not intended, but funny nonetheless) wc — 1.9k

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; background trevor x the boys; slight jamie x mason premise — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving? cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! wc — 2k

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 & 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒 ˎˊ˗ (18+ // minors DNI) pairing(s) — movie!MIKE SCHMIDT (fnaf) x reader premise — mike has something very specific on his list this christmas. cw — slight festive roleplay, breeding kink to the max (with the explicit intention of getting her knocked tf up), mike being obsessed with tits (and having a raging lactation kink), nipple play, dry humping & domestic dirty talk, no p in v (happens off-page/screen), mention of a past pregnancy scare, me wanting abby to be happy with every fiber of my being, and potential FNAF spoilers (honestly, not really) wc — 2.5k

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

→ next month’s round-up

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {17}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, panic attack - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven* || Twelve || Thirteen || Fourteen || Fifteen || Sixteen || Seventeen || Eighteen || under construction

Ilies was kind enough to take Pierre, Addie and I to the airport early on Monday morning. Pierre had put his Audi on one of the car transporters heading to Alpine’s mechanical headquarters in Paris and he would pick it up from there later in the week when he returned for some training. With the next race being in Canada there was a two week break so he was going to spend a few days in London with us as long as he kept up his fitness routine. 

I was apparently the one in charge of making sure that happened but his personal trainer might have been shocked to hear that my idea of exercise involved us tangled in bedsheets. I kept that to myself of course and just agreed. As long as I got to watch while Pierre worked out in my home gym then it was a win-win to me.

“Thanks for the lift, Granny,” I said as I kissed her cheeks after boarding the private jet. 

“It’s on the way to New York so it’s no hassle, honey. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Fashion Week with me?”

I grimaced at the idea. “And have you try to use me as a model again, no thanks.”

“What?” she asked innocently as she buckled up into her seat. “You’ve got the legs for it.”

“She’s not wrong,” Pierre whispered in my ear. “They are very sexy.”

I elbowed him lightly but he just laughed it off and I continued on my way down the aisle. Two rows down I found dad, who was half asleep, and heading home to see mum. I sat Addie into the seat beside him and buckled her in before setting up her latest animated fixation, Mulan, on the screen in front of her. 

“Let mummy know if you need to go to the loo,” I reminded her before pulling the earphones over her head.

There was no reason to be all sat together so I passed the last two rows before sitting down. There was only the galley behind us but since the flight was a little over two hours I doubted anyone would ask for refreshments and we would be left alone.

“Are you okay?” I asked as we hit some turbulence coming into Heathrow and Pierre clutched the armrest between us. His eyes were closed and his lips pressed in a firm line as he nodded his head. He had been uneasy since takeoff but repeatedly lied and said he was fine. “You couldn’t have picked a sport with more travel if you tried.”

“I’m fine with flying…until it gets bumpy.” He let me pull his hand from the leather material and replaced it with my own as we watched the GPS of the plane inching closer to the airport. 

“Miss Vowles, Mr Gasly, if you could please fill these out before we land that would be wonderful,” the stewardess said as she handed me three Passenger Locator Forms before moving on to dad.

I filled out mine and Addie’s while Pierre did his but he took a little longer since he wasn’t a UK Citizen like us and had more pages to complete. I actually had dual citizenship through the ‘grandfather scheme’ which meant I was entitled to apply for citizenship where my parents and grandparents were citizens. Legally, I could hold a passport of Mexico, the USA and the United Kingdom but I preferred to use my UK one since it had the least restrictions.

If Erik ever tried to petition for access to Addie and won, then she could have all three passports and a Norwegian one too.

The thought turned my mood sour and as we touched down on British soil I began to rue my decision to come back. I knew I needed to be here to pack up the house for the move and visit Dr Pascoe in person but there was always a little storm cloud in the back of my mind when I was in London. 

The city was tainted of memories with Erik, the restaurants we had eaten at, the cinemas we have gone to. I couldn’t even drive near Islington because that was where our house had been. Just thinking about it had the walls of the plane closing in around me and I reached for the paper bag in the storage pocket.

The paper crinkled in and out with each breath, the speed too fast for any rational thought and shadows moved around me until two faces came into focus.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” dad said but it was hard to catch the slippery words as my head swam. “Deep breath, in through your nose. Do it with me.” I tried to copy him but my intake was as shaky as my hands. “Good girl, now out through your mouth, nice and slow.”

My clothes felt too tight and my hair clung to my clammy forehead and I tried to brush it away but my hands were shaking too much. The strands of hair remained and I grew frustrated.

“I’ve got it, Bri, just focus on breathing,” Pierre said as he brushed it back for me. A cool damp cloth came to rest on my forehead and I closed my eyes as I leant back in the seat. “Mama’s alright, princesse.”

My eyes flashed open to see Addie looking afraid and I opened my arms for her. “Mummy was just a little overwhelmed, sweetie, I’m sorry it scared you.”

“Was it a bad dream again?” she asked as she clung tight to me.

“Kind of. You know, I could do with your help.” She perked up at the idea of helping and listened intently. “We have no food at home, so I need you to choose where we will have brunch. You don’t have to tell me now, but why don’t you hop back in your seat and have a think about it while we land.”

“Come on, little bug,” dad guided her away, his own worried stare looking back at me as he went. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre asked when we were alone but I shook my head.

“No, I just want to erase the memories of this place.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder and looked up at him. “Tell me that it’s possible.”

He kissed my forehead and I cringed as I realised I was a sweaty mess but he didn’t seem to care as he wrapped an arm around me. “I don’t know about erasing them, but we can make new ones instead.”

–

We landed without a fuss and while we were taxiing to the terminal we started to say our goodbyes before we would part ways. Dad was already out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt sign, and kneeling next to Granny having quiet words with each other before they both looked at me with concern. 

Dad rose to his feet and let Addie climb up for a hug, a bright smile deepening the wrinkles at the corners of Granny’s eyes. “I’m going to miss you, honey. You let me know if you want to come visit alright? We’ll get rid of that posh accent in no time.”

“Don’t want you to go, Granny,” she replied with a trembling lip.

Betty sniffled and blinked away the tears that quickly built along her waterline. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup.”

“You’d still look beautiful,” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the visit and the ride.”

“Of course, you’re welcome to use it whenever you need, especially trying to juggle work, motherhood and a long distance relationship,” she said looking between Pierre and I. “Take all the help you can get to make it work.”

Pierre’s hand took mine and gave it a squeeze while I answered through my widening smile. “I might take you up on that.”

The Gulfstream had come to a stop and I saw two cars parked outside the little window as the stewardess opened the door. Dad would take one to the domestic terminal for his next flight to Manchester while we would be in the other heading home to Twickenham. 

“Oh, and Damien, give my love to Otmar when you see him,” Granny said with a fond smile for the man she thought of as the second child she never had. “I’ll see you in Italy, unless I decide to pop by before that. Never know when I might need a holiday at my age.”

“Mom, you’re retired.”

She scoffed and waved him off. “I retired from designing but I still own the company, dear. I can’t trust anyone else to run it right, unless it’s family.” Her eyes darted to me and I held my hands up.

“Don’t finish that thought, Granny, I’m an engineer - I like tinkering with mechanics and engines.”

“I’ve heard Pierre’s a man of fashion and business or so the internet tells me. You could always marry him. Just an idea, honey.” She sent me a wink and I stumbled over my feet, nearly sending myself out down the steps. “Take care of my precious babies, Mr Gasly.”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he replied with such sincerity that I missed the step in front of me and his hand shot out, catching my arm and pulling me back. “Was that a test?”

“No,” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face with a huff. “That's just how clumsy I am. Let’s go before I break my neck and never get to walk down the aisle Granny’s busy daydreaming about now.”

“I’ve had the design of your wedding dress waiting since you were 18. You tell me when to start sewing it.”

“Bye Granny, bye Matthew!” I concentrated on walking down the stairs with an amused Pierre behind me carrying Addie and dad coming down last. 

“Your mother said she’s blocked out her calendar for Wednesday if you can come to dinner.”

I looked at Pierre since he was meant to be flying to Paris on Thursday morning and Addie and I would be flying into Rouen to meet him on Saturday. “It’s a four hour drive.”

“It shouldn’t be difficult to change my flight to leave from Manchester instead, if you want to stay the night?”

I nodded to dad, “it’s a tentative yes but I’ll let you know once he’s checked the flights. Addie say bye-byes to grandad.”

Our farewells were far quicker and our luggage had already been put into the cars by the time we were finished and going our own separate ways. I would have preferred to have my own car but it was at home after getting a cab to the airport when we left two weeks ago but thankfully it wasn’t peak rush hour and it wasn’t too far to get home.

“Addie, have you decided where you want to eat?”

“The dog park!”

Pierre looked aghast as he spun in his passenger seat at the front and I laughed at the face he pulled. “It’s just a cafe that happens to be on the same block as a dog park. It’s called Ivy and she knows it too,” I said as I tickled Addie’s toes for being a little trickster. “It’s just around the corner from our house so we can drop the bags off first and walk.”

He relaxed back into his seat knowing he wasn’t going to be eating in a dog park and I scoured the inside pockets of my handbag until I found my keys. I gripped the remote to the front gate as the driver pulled onto our street and suddenly had a new fear - had I tidied the house before we left? No. The answer was, no. I had been running around like a madwoman trying to get Addie ready so I decided the toys on the floor and unfolded washing on the couch could wait for my return.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and Pierre’s eyes shot to me through the little mirror on his sun visor, his eyebrow cocked in a silent question. “My house is a fucking mess.”

Click here for chapter eighteen.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @anotheroneiforgot

[meet-me-backstage]

🜸

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night - you’re considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout’s local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.

However, you don’t warm to him so easily - in fact, you don’t warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn’t hesitate to make it known and leads to a cold rejection from you.

Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.

You hate each other… but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie’s bandmates with the intention of bring you two together and harmony between your bands.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, mention of blood, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍 and some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🎸 6.4K words

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🎸 bad language, mention of blood, allusion to and brief mention of smut, mention of drugs.

𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠，𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡， 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑥 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠.

𝐼’𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 － 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑜 𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦！

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢-𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 • 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 • 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

The woods, ever since you’d made a tantrum-filled exit from The Hideout on Tuesday, had become your very own personal haven and you hadn’t been in contact with anybody. You remembered the comfort that such a place could bring, perhaps it was the familiarity of it. Just the touch of bark pressed against your back, dry soil and leaves between your fingers took you back to your school years.

All of the skipped periods, the sneaking out of school - it started at the beginning of 7th grade when Mrs Grabowski, your English teacher, had set you and the rest of your class homework to present the next week as an ice breaker exercise. She wanted a diorama of your perfect day, along with a paragraph of creative writing to go with it.

Your naive and innocent eleven year old self thought that a scene of yourself holding your baby black rabbit, Ozzy (who had little headphones over his ears), at a Black Sabbath concert wouldn’t make the entire class laugh at you.

Everyone stared, laughed, talked about you for months because you didn’t listen to the likes of Dolly Parton or ABBA. It made your heart grow cold.

You chose to be alone. You shut everyone out, built a barricade around yourself that nobody could ever break down. What else could you do? From the moment that you set foot on school grounds, you were the laughing stock. So when you caught a boy that looked to be in the grade below, with his big brown eyes, a buzzcut, clothes that were so baggy on his small frame, staring at you? Claiming to be a fan of Black Sabbath too? How could you believe that he was telling you the truth? You immediately thought that he was making fun of you - because you were the freak, because he was far from the first person to pretend that he was into metal music only to then let you down with a sarcastic tone and a hurtful comment… though in that particular encounter with that boy, you didn’t stick around for the latter.

He blended in with all the other grade A assholes at school who made you feel like you were weird because you didn’t conform to the expectations of the popular crowd.

After that? Well, you realised that you were not the one to blame. If no one else in that darn school thinks that going to a metal concert is not their idea of a perfect day then they can suck it… I’d rather be alone, you remember thinking. You didn’t take any bullshit from anybody, you built a barricade around yourself.

You didn’t realise that it was still there - the barricade. You thought it had long fallen down since the moment you found the girls in Stake For My Valentine, Keith and Rodrick, your adoring fans. Right now, sat against the tree, you realised that it hadn’t gone at all because, until now, you’d forgotten all of those bad encounters at school - that boy with a buzzcut.

That barricade came crashing down the moment that you saw Eddie on that stage on Tuesday and you felt the exact same annoying, prickly little tingle in your stomach. Your nerves were shot, you had to remove yourself from both situations.

You felt vulnerable again and you hated it.

You brought your hands up to your face and nuzzled your nose into your palms with a frustrated sigh.

“Pull yourself together, Vamp,” you mutter to yourself, hitting your forehead lightly with your palm.

So many thoughts whirl around your mind, overwhelming you to the point where your heart was racing.

Why am I letting Eddie Munson get to me?

Why the fuck am I letting him win by hiding out here?

The girls, Keith, Rodrick? They all probably think I’ve been eaten alive by bears or - trapped in another dimension by now.

You shake your head and scramble back up and onto your feet at that thought. It was the worry of the possibility that Stake For My Valentine could be completely kicked off of the rota of gigs at the Hideout because of your absence… and also the growing chance of being eaten by bears the longer you spend in the woods that had you speed-walking in the direction of the bar.

Your arms aggressively swing at your sides, your grip on your songwriting notepad tightens in your hand and you bite your tongue as an attempt to distract you from your rapidly pumping heart and your spinning mind.

Seeing the Hideout before you made you bite your tongue even harder, you were sure that it was starting to draw blood, but you ignored it as you strode towards and into the place.

It is quiet, not unusual for an afternoon, but the bar stool furthest from the stage even lacked a certain local, grotesque Dave, who makes a point of eye-fucking you most nights even though he is old enough to be your grandad, yet you amuse him with flirtatious remarks just so he’ll buy you a drink.

You pout your lips for a brief moment, hoping for just a small taste of a distraction… Rodrick wasn’t even manning the bar as he usually would on a Friday.

You almost missed his smug face. Almost. But then you remembered how he took your Halloween gig out of your hands, so easily placing it into Eddie’s right in front of you… it was like a slap to the face. The worst part was that you’d didn’t even know why he’d done something as cruel as taking your favorite gig night away from you like that in the first place - the look on his face, the mischievous glint in his eyes… it was like he wanted to make you angry that night.

Muffled laughter suddenly erupted, coming from behind the door newly labelled ‘S.F.M.V + C.C’ and distracted you from your thoughts.

Your eyes pierced harshly at the door itself as the laughter continued.

Slowly, you tread your way in the direction of the laughter that grew as even more people seemed to laugh. You carefully grab the door handle, not wanting to make it creak before you even got a glimpse of the scene before you.

All in the matter of a second, you’d turned the handle and kicked the door open.

For a mere moment you were impressed with your ‘hunting’ technique, you were sure you’d acted as fast as a cheetah who’d found it’s dinner.

There they all were, Elektra, Cherie, Alyssa, Rodrick and the Corroded Nobodies.

You cross your arms, watching as each face falls from joy to disbelief.

Alyssa was sat in Gareth’s lap, her arms draped around his neck while he caressed her side with his fingertips. Though their embrace came to a halt when Alyssa saw you, she climbed off of him, stumbling in her step and falling to the floor at his legs.

“Vamp?” Elektra calls, her brown eyes squint, like she was trying to figure out if you were a figment of her imagination. You shift your attention from Alyssa to Elektra, returning her eye contact, “what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” You tilt your head and accusingly point at each of the four boys sat between the Stake For My Valentine girls, “what are they-,” you glare into the eyes of Eddie Munson, who glares back, “doing here?!”

Everyone in the damn room starts to scratch their necks, avoiding eye contact with you, making you feel all the more frustrated.

You lift your arms up before dropping them back down to your sides, “I didn’t know there was a flea infestation, did I miss the fuckin’ memo?” your voice oozed with sarcasm and you ended with a laugh so sharp it could cut like a knife slicing through the fun that the two bands were having together before you crashed the party.

“Either that or your head is so far up your ass that you couldn’t hear Rodrick tell you that this room is ours now too?” Eddie blurts, his glare even more intense than it was before.

You went blank, finding yourself staring at the way his lips moved with his riled up breathing. You snap yourself out of your stare, shaking your head and giggling, “Good one, Munson - so good I think I’ll add it to my lyric book.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, standing himself up, “Hang on a second, they’re my words - maybe I want to add them to my lyric book.”

You shrug your shoulders with the facade of an innocent smile, “Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

“C’mon, that’s not fair!” He whines, collapsing back into the couch behind him.

Even with the anger in his eyes, they were still as wide as a lost puppy’s. You pout your lips and tilt your head at him, “Awh but it is-,” you walk towards him and bend over so that your face is level with his. Your faces are undeniably close, your noses almost touched and you could feel his breath falter at the lack of a gap between the two of you, “it is too fair,” you boop his nose with the tip of your index finger with a smirk on your lips.

Eddie blinks up at you and you continue to fixate your eyes on him. The two of you too stubborn to look away from each other because if you did you’d lose… and you never lose.

You hear someone clear their throat, making both you and Eddie turn your heads in sync in the direction of your band mates and Rodrick, who were all blinking at the two of you.

“Should we leave-,” Elektra, who had been the one to break the silence with a cough, gestures between her and everyone else on the couch, “before the two of you start making out or are you gonna quit eye-fucking and tell us where you’ve been the last few days?”

You grimace, quickly taking a step away from Eddie, “First of all - ew? As if I’d even think about making out with that loser,” you point at him while directing your glare at Elektra now.

Eddie huffs a laugh, interrupting your staring competition with Elektra, “Exactly, she’s like - the biggest bitch in the universe. Why would I wanna kiss her?”

You roll your eyes, “Finally, we agree on something - maybe we can be civil after all!”

The boys, minus Eddie, from Corroded Coffin all sighed in relief and their faces lit up.

“Really?! So we can be friends?!” Gareth asks excitedly while glancing down at Alyssa, but receives a gentle slap on the top of the head from Eddie.

An evil, but convincing smile graced your lips, “Yeaahhh! I was thinking now that we’re friends we can all get high and braid each other’s hair while we confess our deepest darkest secrets,” you enthuse in a high pitched voice, all while watching the Corroded Coffin boy’s excited faces slowly fall.

Gareth nods slowly, “You were being sarcastic,” he mumbles under his breath.

“She was being sarcastic,” Eddie repeats in an ‘I told you so’ tone.

“I knew that.”

You grin toothily before resuming your response to Elektra’s question, “Now that we’ve got that clear - I was in the woods writing new material for us to practice,” you lift the arm that’s still grasping your lyric book and you wave it before throwing it for her to catch, “Have a look through ‘em, see what you think.”

She leans back from the momentum of the notebook hitting her chest, clutching it to her heart with both hands. She raises one brow at you, leaning forward again, “Hang on a second, you were - writing… in the woods?”

“That’s what I said,” you nod with a shrug.

“And you didn’t think to call any of us?”

“I dunno - I guess I got lost in the sound of silence, the beauty of my surroundings and I had to write so... I forgot, I’m sorry,” you explain, now looking down at the floor nervously.

“We thought you’d been abducted by aliens!” Alissa blurts, waving her hands around her face as she mimics the sounds of a spaceship, making Gareth chuckle.

You send a fleeting glare Gareth’s way, making him hiccup and Alyssa blush.

“No, but I probably would’ve been better off if I had been abducted by aliens,” you raise your brows, continuing to stare between Alissa and Gareth, who seem to understand that you were talking about them, and they frown in response.

“These are good, Vamp,” Rodrick announces. Your eyes land on the man that had been silently enjoying your displeasure towards the situation. You notice that your notebook had found its way into his hands and he was casually flicking through the pages, “He’s just a loser with a guitar, thinks he’ll go far but he’ll be endlessly chasin’ cars,” Rodrick places his index finger on his chin and cheekily grins up at you, “I wonder who that’s about?”

You glance at Eddie, unconsciously answering Rodrick’s question.

You didn’t even get to soak up Eddie’s reaction before Rodrick continues to read from your notebook, “And when you think of me, I hope it kills your desire for metal-.” You snatch the notebook from his hands. “Hey - I was reading that!”

“I need to talk to you. Now,” you state, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb.

Rodrick holds his hands up in surrender, “Okay okay - keep your head on.”

He follows you as you stomp your way back through the door and into the bar area, which was still empty.

“What’s wrong, V?” He asks, now entering behind the bar, standing opposite you as you lean onto the bar from the other side.

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Roddie. Do you think you’re fuckin’ funny?”

“Woah - I’m smelling a lot of hostility right now,” Rodrick too, leans onto the counter, trying to close the gap between the two of you only for you to step away from the bar.

“You had no right to read out my lyrics like that,” you poke at your chest with your index finger while spitting out each word at him.

“Soon enough you’ll be singing them on stage right? So what’s the difference?” He furrows his brows at you.

You shake your head in disbelief, “they are drafts and they were meant for mine and the band’s eyes only - for now,” you slam your hands down on the table and lean closer to him on your own terms. Your noses almost touch, making him smirk and lean even more forward in an attempt to kiss you. “Why the fuck did you take the Halloween gig away from me and hand it to them on a goddamn silver platter?” Rodrick pauses, his lips a few centimetres away from yours, “Do you get off on pissing me off? Is that it?”

“Maybe,” Rodrick chuckles mischievously before closing the small distance between you and pecking you on the lips.

You slide your hand along the bar, colliding your palm with his chest and pushing him away, cutting the kiss short, “Am I fuckin’ laughing?” You ask with a harsh stare before gesturing between yourself and the backstage door, “we’ve spent months rehearsing for that gig and you think it’s fuckin’ funny to jeopardise our plans for some newbies you picked up from the crowd at my band’s gig?”

Rodrick sighs loudly, his entire demeanour deflating, “Look, I wanted to get a rise out of you - but not for a joke or some prank like you think.”

You squint your eyes, “I’m not following.”

“Attention - I did it for attention, alright? God knows this place needs it,” Rodrick admits, looking down at the wilting wood of the bar top.

“I still don’t follow.”

Rodrick nods, still refusing to look you in the eye, “People are half water half gossip junkies, right?”

You roll your eyes, “Just spit it out, Rodrick!”

Rodrick leans closer to you again, “They crave drama - the moment they witness the smallest hint of a competition they come in swarms. This - battle - between Stake For My Valentine and Corroded Coffin - is exactly what this bar needs-.”

Your face falls even more, if that’s even possible, “No, Stake For My Valentine is what it needs, the crowd loves us and we keep ‘em coming back, don’t we?”

“You’re - half - right, they do love you and you do keep ‘em coming, but that’s not enough,” Rodrick admits with a side frown, watching as you pull away from him again, “we need more to keep this bar going in the long run.”

“But K said-.”

“That you brought life back into the bar? Yeah, my dad is right, you did - past tense.”

You bite your lips together while he speaks, fighting the urge to scream at him. Instead, you take a deep breath and take a moment to regain your composure, “So what do you suggest we do to reignite the spark oh wise one?”

Rodrick places both his elbows on the bar and places his hands down flat against it before starting a drumroll. The tempo slowly rises in pace, but you are already writhing with impatience, so you roll your eyes and glare at his hands as he speedily and loudly taps on the wooden surface until suddenly coming to a halt, “a battle of the bands!”

You look at him as if to say ‘really?’, and shake your head, “That sounds a whole lot like high school all over again, I did not drop out for one of your shitty schemes-.”

“Hear me out, V-,” his eyes widen, drawing you in. You have your mouth bitten shut by your teeth again and you hum with a hesitant nod, “All you have to do between tonight and Halloween is play swapsies of the stage with Corroded Coffin and rile Eddie up, act like you hate him, his band, his music - enough to make people start talking-.”

“But I do hate him, his band and his music. I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual too - about me anyway,” you briefly recall how starstruck he’d acted when he first saw you perform, poor baby, you think to yourself with an internal smirk.

“So your job is pretty easy, don’t ya think?” Tempting. You raise your brows, intrigue crystal clear on your features, yet you stay silent, “C’mon Vamp - face it, you want the competition, you thrive on it!”

You lean closer with your brows still raised, your lips centimetres away from his, “I can’t imagine your dad being on board with your little scheme-.”

“Nooo - which is why he won’t know about it-.”

“Rodrick, I hate to break it to you but he works here every damn day - he will know.”

His lips tug up at one side of his mouth, “Oh yeah? You see him right now? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips as you tilt your head slightly to your right, “What are you not telling me?”

“You’re so so so behind, V - he’s away until next month and has left me in charge of the place… and if everything goes according to plan, by the time he comes back the Hideout will be thriving with new and local faces, he’ll have the bar he’s always dreamed of and he won’t be on my back anymore,” his voice gradually becomes loud with excitement and the perfect eyeliner around his widened eyes becomes more prominent.

“There it is!” You cackle loudly and his face drops, “I knew there had to be something in it for you.”

Rodrick shakes his head before unexpectedly taking your hands in his and squeezing your fingers while staring into your eyes, “There’s something in it for the both of us.”

You look down at your hands being clasped by his before glancing up at him with your brows furrowed. “What’s in it for me then, hm?” you slur flirtatiously as you lean your body more over the bar, your chest pressing against the top of his hands.

“I was er - left with some very strict rules that I am willing to break just for you,” Rodrick mumbles softly with a smug grin, his lips brushing against yours, “the Halloween gig is already yours, it will always be yours-.”

“But you said-.”

“I know what I said,” Rodrick sighs with a nod, “I said it because it was what my dad wanted, not me, he thought you needed a break.”

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

“Right?” He sighs, letting out a relieved, yet nervous chuckle.

You send him a playful glare that sends him into a frenzy of confusion, “You’re an asshole too, y’know?” Rodrick squints his eyes at you while in deep thought. “I saw the look on your face when you told Eddie he had the gig - you wanted to piss me off you piece of crap,” you pull away from his touch and reach for his shirt, balling it into your fist.

“Woah woah woah,” he grunts as you pull him towards you, “I think you’re hot when you’re all worked up, lock me up if that’s a crime - jeez.”

“Fuck you, Rodrick. It was - too far,” your voice falters for a moment and your grip on his shirt loosens.

“I know. I’m sorry, V,” he admits lowly, breaking eye contact with you before bringing one of his hands up to gently place on your cheek, “It’s rightfully yours, the gig, that’s why I’m giving it back to you.”

You decide to lean into his touch, tilting your head into his palm as he utters the final few words. “So you can be reasonable sometimes,” you mumble softly, turning your face to press your lips against his palm, “But there’s no need to do that for me, Roddie.”

Rodrick’s brows furrow as he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, “What do you mean?”

“I want the competition to be real, let the crowd decide who they want to see on Halloween,” you state boldly, holding eye contact with him without blinking, “You know I don’t do cheating or shortcuts but-,” you press another seductive kiss to his palm, making him gulp, “your heart is in the right place - soooo-,” you continue to press kisses while looking into his dark, blown out eyes, “I was thinking… I could stay the night.”

“Here?” He blinks.

You hum in agreement.

“With me?” He blinks again.

You subconsciously roll your eyes, pressing one last kiss to his hand before you let out a muffled giggle against his skin, “Yes, with you - who else, dummy?” You press your lips against his slightly chapped ones before he can answer your question, he makes a muffled noise before melting at the sensation of your lips touching his completely.

He exhales into the kiss, making you smirk against his lips. You take the opportunity to gain more control by pushing yourself more against him, making yourself taller over the bar and just as you nudge your tongue between his lips you hear a cough in the direction of the ‘backstage’ door.

You and Rodrick’s eyes snap open and the sight of his features so close to your face makes your heart pump faster. In a whim of pure fright, you jump away and blink frantically at the source of the cough you’d heard.

Munson. “You,” your voice could not have sounded more irritated if you tried.

Eddie’s eyes were wide and fixated on you, his lips were quivering, “I - er - I - um-.”

Your lips tug themselves into a smirk when you realise that the scene of you and Rodrick making out on the bar had left him utterly flustered and speechless. It was as if he’d never seen something of that nature before - the locking of lips and the collision of bodies seemed to be a place of uncharted water that he had not yet explored… and probably won’t ever - because how could anyone ever possibly want Eddie Munson in the same room as them, let alone their bed? Not with that face, that hair, that stare, that voice, those fingers, those tattoos - and especially not with those stupid jokes.

“Sorry - I was just - er - leaving - yeah - leaving,” Eddie nods insistently, it was almost as if he had to convince himself too.

“Awh,” you pout, “don’t leave on our account, we’re taking this-,” you step towards Rodrick, giving him a wink before glancing Eddie’s way with a flirtatious smile, “upstairs.”

“Wha-,” Rodrick’s eyes are wide now.

The sound of your worn black boots stomping on the floor silence Rodrick. You internally rub your hands together because you have to walk past Eddie in order to get to the door behind the bar that leads to the apartment upstairs that Rodrick and Keith reside in. Eddie’s lips were parted and his eye contact with you faltered, those brown orbs flickered shyly to your fishnet wrapped legs.

You fought the urge to cackle evilly because you knew exactly what you were doing to the poor guy, yet you still leant as possibly close as you could to his ear, “We’ll be back in an hour,” you whisper before skipping away, behind the bar and pulling Rodrick through the door leading to his home, you give Eddie a playful wave while doing so.

Just fifteen minutes later, Rodrick collapsed onto the mattress beside you with a fucked-out, blissful smile on his face and trails of sweat running from his hairline down his temple.

And you? You felt nothing. You didn’t even finish.

While you blankly stared up at the ceiling with the duvet draped over your waist, you wondered what exactly drove you to drag Rodrick upstairs in the first place if you didn’t really want to fuck Rodrick again.

Perhaps it was the smell of the bar that drove you up there, or a spur of the moment rush of adrenaline that disappeared the moment you left Eddie stood at the bar alone… you shook your head, trying to stop the ongoing battle between each of your thoughts that were starting to make you sweat with fear - not pleasure or exhaustion like you’d hoped.

While Rodrick moved his hips back and forth between your legs, you were as still as a plank of wood… bored. You remembered your first time with him being a little more exciting, but maybe that was because it was entirely new for you. Now you could predict every move he made until the very moment he spilled himself inside the rubber and laid next to you.

You could feel the mattress dip next to you as he manoeuvred himself to be closer, he whispers in your ear, “You were amazing.”

There they are, the same three words he uttered in an exhausted whisper when you first fucked.

You bottled up the urge to groan, or laugh, or scream because you did nothing to deserve those words - all you did was put on your greatest acting voice and scrunch your face up in order to make him think that you’d reached your own high, the rest was all him because he insisted on taking control, desperately thrusting himself in and out of you for five minutes without any foreplay because he couldn’t last.

Nothing. The word repeats in your head like an echo, but instead it gets louder and louder until you abruptly sit yourself up, making Rodrick’s arm fall onto the duvet instead of on your stomach.

“You a little - overcome?” You hear Rodrick’s voice and a punch-worthy giggle over your shoulder.

“Totally,” you sigh, light heartedly chuckling afterwards.

Rodrick, unconvinced, sits himself up too and turns his abdomen your way, “What’s up? Was I so good that you had to flinch away from me?”

“Rodrick,” his name comes out of your mouth as a sigh and you bring a hand up to your forehead, trying to hide the doubt that is written all over your face. Do I really want Rodrick? You bring your other hand to cover your face. Why am I even asking myself that? Your hands fall from your face and land on your lap with a thud, “Do you feel - weird?”

“About what?” Rodrick leans more forward so that his face is in sight.

“This - us,” you motion between yours and Rodrick’s bodies with a trembling hand.

His eyes squint at you, trying to read you. You felt vulnerable again, being scrutinised under his gaze and you suddenly regretted even starting the conversation, “Er - a little?” Your heart, to your surprise, begins to race, “Only because - well - you know how my dad reacted before, but that just makes - this - sneaking around-,” a smile starts to form on his face, “more exciting, right?”

Your eyes slowly trail to meet his, you nod in time with your heartbeat, rapidly, “R-right,” you exhale deeply, “yeah, it’s so fun.”

“Exactly,” Rodrick’s smile widens before kissing your cheekbone.

You force a smile, sheepishly catching his eyes, “I’m gonna go back downstairs.” The bed creaked as you pushed yourself off and back onto your feet, stepping into your boots. Your legs shook and you stumbled on your feet for a moment because Rodrick hadn’t exactly gone easy on you, you could already feel a bruise forming on your inner thigh, “gotta practice for tonight.”

“Sure,” Rodrick mumbles. You can feel his gaze burning into your naked back, making you smirk at the rocket patterned wallpaper of his bedroom.

You bend over, grabbing the shirt you’d thrown on the floor, then pull up the fishnet tights and skirt you were wearing until Rodrick hastily pulled them down to your ankles and pushed you onto the bed.

“See you later, perv,” you mutter, glancing over your shoulder at Rodrick, who was shamelessly staring - just as you predicted.

As you walk out of the room, coming face to face with the wall and the top of the narrow staircase leading back down to the bar, you hear Rodrick call out, “You love it!” You laugh as you run down the stairs, the weight of your boots pulling you down so fast that you have to press your forearms against the walls either side of you for guidance.

Your fingertips brush against the stone of the wall where the wallpaper had ripped away just as you reach the door behind the bar. There are two windows in the door, both with red and green stained glass with a diamond pattern.

Through one of windows you could see the silhouettes of people walking towards the exit, but you couldn’t quite make out who exactly they belonged to.

Intrigued, you reach for the door handle and slowly pull the door open so that it’s ajar.

When you had half your face peeking behind the door, you noticed that it was Travis, Gareth and Jeff leaving the Hideout.

“Do you really think so?” Gareth asks Jeff with hope in his eyes.

“Duh! Anyone with eyes can tell, her jaw almost dropped to the floor at your drum solo last night,” Jeff states enthusiastically, nudging his friend’s shoulder.

Gareth chuckles while shaking his head, “I dunno, dude-.”

“C’mon, who else laughs as hard as she does when you do that lame drumstick magic trick, or agrees to reenact Garfield scenes with you?” Jeff asks and you bite your lips together to stop yourself from hysterically laughing from behind the door.

“Maybe she’s just being nice?” Gareth looks down at the floor.

“Or maybe you’re letting her friend get in your head?”

Gareth shakes his head in complete denial, “What? Vamp? Never.”

Jeff raises his brows, tilting his head, making no effort to hide his skepticism, “So you’ll ask her on a date?”

“When Eddie and Vamp get their act together - that’s when I’ll ask her on a date,” Gareth finally looks up at Jeff.

“So it is about Va-.”

You bit your lips together even harder. Now you knew that you didn’t have to worry about Gareth and Alyssa getting together because Eddie and I will never see eye to eye. In the fraction of a second, just to try and get a closer look, you opened the door a little more, only for it to creak loudly. Damn it! You fling the door open casually, gaining the attention of Travis, Jeff and Gareth, but they are quick to turn on the heel and scuttle out of the Hideout.

“Bye kiddos!” You wave with a toothy smile on your face, “See you tonight if it’s not past your bedtime!” You stare at the door as it swings closed with a bang.

Where’s Eddie? You wonder if he’d left because of you and Rodrick - you smile even wider. That’s the best thing to happen to me all week, all of them leaving the Hideout - maybe they’ve gone for good-

“An hour?” A familiar, boyish, but deep voice sounds behind you along with footsteps that drew closer and closer.

You knew who it was from a mile off, the boy who you could never catch a break from. His presence behind you made your heart quicken, your stomach tingle and your smile to drop. You didn’t want to turn around - I’m getting so sick of his stupid face - but you knew you had to, otherwise he’d have the upper hand, so you fought those feelings you hated and turned to face him by your hips.

A small smile was evident on his plump pink lips, making his dimples visible. Your fierce eyes took in his frame, the white vest he was wearing that was deteriorating with holes and small off-white stains all over it - they showed his tattoos perfectly, a spider and a demonic-looking ghoul on his chest, bats, a puppet-master and a dragon on his right arm, your eyes trailed and admired each of them until a nervous cough interrupted thejourney. “W-what?” Your eyes slowly make their way back up to meet his brown ones, but not before you appreciate the way his collarbones flawlessly frame the ink on his chest… Focus, Vamp.

Eddie’s bottom lip was parted away from his top one, watching your every move, making you silently scold yourself for letting your eyes so obviously wander over him. “You said that you’d be back in an hour - twenty minutes ago,” his words come out in a playful tone, he resumes his steps towards you until he’s stood directly in front of you and you’re the one looking up at him like a lost puppy.

Your breath hitches, “s-so what?” I didn’t know hearts could beat this fast?

He shakes his head, his hair flowing with his movements and a curl falls over his eye, “It’s just funny,” he huffs a short laugh, placing one of his hands over his face, the glimmer of his chunky silver rings hypnotise you.

You scoff, “What is?” You ask as you scrunch your nose and glare up at him.

He stays silent, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while mirroring the glare that you’d given him, “the game you’re playing.”

“Oh yeah? What game is it that you think I’m playing then, huh?”

Eddie breaks eye contact with you now, instead he explores every other feature on your face, “You know you’re - really - fuckin’ talented and you use it for - bad, like Iggwilv, who I conquered with a roll of twenty last week, by the way,” he rambles passionately, waving his hands around until he realises that you’re looking at him blankly, but most importantly, he’s wavering off of the argument he was trying to make. He exhales slowly and looks down at his sneakers, “Ever since that day at the lockers when you did that thing you always do - roll your eyes and stomp away in those boots. At first I thought it was the buzzcut - even I hated that thing,” he chuckles and shakes his head, “It didn’t matter if you hated me or not, or that you ignored me after that… I thought about you all the time, even when you left Hawkins High,” He fleetingly looks up to meet your eyes with his big ones, but his features harden when he sees that you’re still showing no expression on your face. Eddie sniffles, shrugging his shoulders, “Seeing you again, I hoped that we could finally be friends. I really don’t know what I did to make you mad, but- I’m here for the music, and there’s nothing you and your stupid loud boots can say or do to stop Corroded Coffin from playing here, m’kay?” His chest is heaving and his shoulders visibly relax, it’s as if he’d been bottling up those words for more than just twenty minutes, but for many years.

You blink up at him with your lips parted. Your chest heaved too and you watched him as he began to pull away because during his speech he’d unconsciously gotten closer, making you feel hotter in temperature.

You realised just how cold the room actually was when he walked away, following the footsteps that his band-mates had made just minutes ago, but what felt like hours to you.

Say something! I can’t let him have the last word! Your mouth stays silent, agape through the familiar swing and shut sound of the door and it’s too late, Eddie is gone.

His words played on your mind from the very moment he hammered them into your head. They repeated themselves as you rehearsed your new lyrics, as you sang in front the familiar crowd you attracted. It had been days since your last gig so you threw your entire self into it. You played until your fingers bled from running them along the guitar strings so harshly and you spat out your new lyrics about Eddie passionately while searching for him in the crowd… but he was nowhere to be seen.

Your eyes frantically examined each face and searched the booth that he usually sat in with his band, but Rodrick sat there alone tonight.

A frown forced its way onto your lips and you look back down at your beloved Pink Special, belting a guitar solo, shaking your head and scrunching your eyes shut… but it didn’t give you the satisfaction that it usually would. You had unfinished business with Eddie and you couldn’t believe that you had let him just walk away like that.

You played your last note on the guitar, dropping to your knees and throwing your head back.

Cheers could be heard, but Eddie’s words continued to echo all around your mind and they were stronger than the noise coming from your fans.

Screw it! Maybe I do need him- the competition.

⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ’𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺

@big-ope-vibes @majesticjellyfishzombie @b-ritney @joyfulcandyrunaway @sidthedollface2 @sillypurplemurple @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie @bookobsessedfreak @lefdepard @aol19 @hllfrclb @weirdkidfromtheupsidedown @lexi--a

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts

🜸

[themirokai]

The Bell Bird - Chapter 3

You'll need to start with Chapter 1, and then go to Chapter 2.

In this chapter, we learn what sort of help the Bell Bird requires.

Chapter is 2,301 words.

Read it below or on AO3.

~*~

Greg stepped back only when he saw Romer hovering behind Jenny Lindish and felt Mycroft’s hand on his arm. Mycroft stepped around him, walking stick in hand. 

“If you require my assistance, Ms. Lindish, then I believe the conversation should move to a more private venue.” 

Greg looked around. Other audience members were glancing at them, but it was difficult to take one’s eyes off Lindish, even if you didn’t think she was an assassin. 

“I quite agree, Mr. Holmes. I have a suite at the Langham Hotel, which should be suitable.” 

Behind her Romer scoffed, and she turned to look at him, then raised a manicured eyebrow. “Hm, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” She looked like she wanted to swallow him whole, but Romer just rolled his eyes. 

“Under the circumstances, it would be better for us to speak at my office, Ms. Lindish,” Mycroft said, pulling her attention back to him. 

Lindish’s smile did not recede, but did seem to freeze. “Am I being detained, Mr. Holmes?” 

Mycroft tipped his head to the side a little: a picture of innocent curiosity. “Whatever would I detain you for, Ms. Lindish?” 

Her expression became serious. “I can assure you that I have never done anything to provoke the British government’s ire.” 

“Excellent.” Mycroft’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Then a cordial conversation at my office will provide no difficulty.” 

Lindish gave a tight-lipped smile and a small nod. 

“I assume you’ll want to change out of that magnificent gown,” Mycroft continued, “and that will give Moon Moth the opportunity to ensure that you are not armed. She and her colleague will bring you to me when you are ready.” 

Lindish turned to Ahmad, her wide smile back. “You’ll be accompanying me to my dressing room, agent?” 

“Yes, and I’d advise against doing anything we’ll both regret,” Ahmad said, her expression bright and predatory in a way Greg had never seen before. 

“Well then, Mr. Holmes,” Lindish said, turning back to Mycroft, “I look forward to continuing the conversation.” She turned to Greg. “Goodbye, Detective Inspector.” She gave a little curtsey, and turned away. 

Outside the theatre a few minutes later, Mycroft sent a text message, and Agent Yang seemed to appear out of thin air, just as Lucy pulled up in the car.  

“Yang, I want you and Wilkinson to stay with Romer and Ahmad,” Mycroft told her. 

Yang frowned. “Sir? That leaves no one else on you. You’re exposed.” 

“I am aware of that. But Simmons is just going to drop Gregory off at the house—” 

“Like hell she is!” Greg cut in. 

“Gregory—” 

“You can’t just pull me into spying and then dump me at the house when it gets interesting!” Greg protested. “I’m invested now. I want to know what she wants. Plus,” Greg ploughed on, ignoring Mycroft’s sour look, “if you’re leaving your security behind, then we are absolutely going straight to your office. Together.” 

Mycroft took a deep breath and gave Greg an evaluating look. “Fine,” he said. “Simmons will take Gregory and I straight to the office, and between the three of us, I am perfectly safe. While I believe the Bell Bird has no ill intentions and would not risk doing anything untoward on British soil, I do want Ahmad and Romer to have backup in case I have read the situation erroneously.”

Yang hesitated, looking from Lucy, to Greg, to Mycroft, then nodded and opened the rear door of the car for them.   

____

When Anthea’s voice came through the intercom in Mycroft’s office to inform them that his guest had arrived, Greg half-perched himself on a windowsill behind and to the side of Mycroft’s desk. Mycroft glanced at him, then told Anthea to send them in. 

The door opened and Ahmad entered, followed by Jenny Lindish and Romer. Romer grinned when he caught sight of Greg and winked at him. 

Lindish was wearing emerald green stilettos, tight dark blue jeans, an emerald silk blouse, and a vibrant purple blazer. Her hair had been restyled to fall in long soft waves, curled at the bottom like a 1950s starlet. She was gorgeous. 

“Please have a seat, Ms. Lindish.” Mycroft gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” she said with a disarming smile as she sat. 

Ahmad and Romer remained standing behind her. 

“Now,” Mycroft said, “how can I help you?” 

Lindish took a deep breath and looked only at Mycroft. “My real name is Jenny Eskalia. My father was David Eskalia.” 

Mycroft’s mouth fell open with a gasp. “Oh. Oh my dear.” He leaned forward. “Of course. You have his eyes. I don’t know how I never noticed before.” 

“My father told me before he died,” she continued, “that if I was ever in trouble that I should come to you and you would help me.”   

Mycroft took a deep steadying breath, and even from the side Greg could tell that his eyes were damp. “Of course. Whatever is in my power.” 

Jenny was about to speak again when Romer jumped in. “Hang on. Who’s David Eskalia?” 

Mycroft glanced at Romer but held eye contact with Jenny as he spoke. “He was an American CIA agent. He saved my life. Twice. He was a good man and a good friend.” Mycroft closed his eyes and shook his head, then looked at Jenny again. “I mourned your father’s death and the fact that I could not do for him what he had done for me. How can I help you?” 

Jenny took a breath and drew herself up. “You’re well aware of my alternate career, otherwise you wouldn’t have sent Moon Moth to monitor me.” 

It wasn’t quite like her stage persona: a presentation, perhaps, instead of a performance, Greg thought. 

“Since I was a girl,” Jenny continued, “my father trained me in the art of spy craft. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps to join the CIA. And for much of my life that’s what I wanted too. He was killed when I was in college and I… I will admit that I used the skills he taught me to ends that he may not approve of.” 

She paused with a worried look at Mycroft. His fingers were steepled in front of his face, and he nodded. Jenny went on. “Once I had eliminated the person who had killed my father, I knew I wouldn’t be able to join the CIA, and I didn’t want to anymore. I liked the freedom of working for myself, and I wanted to pursue singing as well. Singing recitals is not a lucrative career, but as you are aware I supplement my income.”

Romer snorted. “That what you call it?”

Mycroft shot him a stern look and Jenny continued. 

“I can afford to be choosy about my targets. I only eliminate bad people. Crime lords, war lords, torturers, dictators. But the problem is that bad people often have other bad people who are invested in them.”

“It’s almost like being a murderer is complicated,” Romer muttered. 

Jenny ignored him. “A few months ago, I eliminated Eli the Spider, the head of the Silver Drivers.” 

“They’re currently running Las Vegas,” Mycroft said, presumably for Greg’s benefit. 

“Apparently, as part of his bid to seize power, the Spider’s second in command swore that he would have my head. And while the Silver Drivers only control Las Vegas, they also have access to the INS, so I can’t get home without being detected now that the border entries are equipped with the new facial recognition technology. That would be bad enough, but the Silver Drivers have also sent the Black Tornado to hunt me internationally.” 

“What’s the Black Tornado?” Greg asked. 

“An assassin who is much, much scarier than the Bell Bird,” Ahmad said. 

“To put it plainly, Mr. Holmes,” Jenny said, “I am cut off from many of my resources, including my home, I am up against a much more powerful foe and—” she swallowed, blinked hard, her eyes misty, "—and I am scared. I know my profession may be objectionable to you – or at least the fact that I ply it for myself instead of a government – but for the sake of my father I ask you to help me. Please.”

Mycroft took his handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket and reached across the desk to hand it to her. 

“How do we know that you’re the boss’s friend’s daughter?” Romer spoke up. “You could just be some random assassin who found out about their relationship and is trying to use it now you’re up shit creek.” 

Jenny, having dabbed her eyes, looked straight at Mycroft. “Mr. Holmes has a scar the shape of a triangle on his right side. It is from an ice pick.” 

Greg inhaled. He knew the exact scar she was talking about, had traced it with his fingers many times as he held Mycroft. Mycroft had even told him it was from an ice pick, but hadn’t revealed any further information. 

“My father was the reason Mr. Holmes did not bleed to death on that mountain,” Jenny continued. “And he was the only person in the world other than Mr. Holmes who knows it. He would not have told anyone except for someone he truly trusted. Like his daughter.” 

“You could have killed his daughter,” Romer said. “Maybe even tortured her first.” 

Jenny turned in her seat to look at Romer. “You are very protective of your boss, Mr….” 

Romer smirked. “Yeah, like I’m giving you a name. It’s bad enough you know Moon Moth and Mr. Holmes.” 

She gave him a prim little smile. “Well, may I say that your dedication is admirable.” 

Romer sneered at the back of her head as she turned back to face Mycroft. “I will submit to a DNA test or any examination of my identity that you care to propose.” 

“She is who she says she is, Glasgow,” Mycroft said quietly. “David told me his daughter had a voice like an angel. And as I said, she has his eyes.” He looked straight at Jenny. “He was very proud of you.” 

“Sir!” Romer protested. 

Mycroft held up a hand to forestall further comment. “We will confirm with a DNA test. Now, Ms. Eskalia, it seems you have gotten in over your head. I have a way out for you, but it means giving up your career as a free agent and it means doing things my way. Are you willing?”

“Can I still sing?” Jenny asked tentatively.

“I would no sooner deprive the world of your voice than I would deprive it of the Mona Lisa,” Mycroft told her. “But you will be working for me. First—”

“Sir!” Romer cut in again. “You’re not seriously going to hire her! She’s an assassin! A murderer! We bring people like her down; we don’t work with them!”

“Agent Glasgow,” Mycroft’s voice was acidic, “A black and white view of who we can and cannot work with will serve you very poorly if you wish to be a successful intelligence officer.”

The devastation was plainly written on Romer’s face. “Mr. Holmes…”

“In fact,” Mycroft continued, “Moon Moth will be taking the lead on the operation I have in mind. You may go start on the written report from this evening.”

“But—”

“That will be all, Glasgow. Thank you.” 

Romer, looking utterly defeated, left the room, and Greg couldn’t help but follow him. 

“Peter,” Greg called once they were in the hallway beyond Anthea’s desk. 

Romer turned around, his expression resigned. “What do you want, Silver Fox?” 

Greg closed the distance between them. “You’re not getting replaced, kid.”

“What?” Romer said with a smile he clearly didn’t feel. “Who said anything about getting replaced?” 

“You’re jealous of the new kid,” Greg said. “It’s natural.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Silver Fox,” Romer sniffed. “You’re sounding just as crazy as your boyfriend in there who apparently is perfectly happy to work with assassins as long as they have a good enough sob story! I mean, we haven’t even ruled out that she’s after him! She could be attacking right now with only Ahmad to hold her off!” 

“You know,” Greg said, ignoring the outburst, “he said you’re his favourite.”

“What?” Romer reeled. “When? That’s not true.” 

“It is.” Greg chuckled. “That night when the Russians went after him and you got cut up? He was so worried about you when that fight was going on. Told me that he cares about you and you’re his favourite.”

Romer’s mouth hung open a little but he quickly schooled his expression. “Well, it sounds like he really cared about David Eskalia, too. Did you know about that?”

“No,” Greg said gently, “but neither of us are young. We both have people in our past. Hell,” he chuckled, “I’ve got an ex-wife.”

“Really?” Romer frowned. 

“Yeah. We were terrible at being married to each other, but I did love her.” 

“Huh.” 

Romer leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. 

“Your code name is Glasgow?” Greg asked after a moment. 

“Nah,” Romer looked up at him with a grin. “It was when I was in training, but I’ve got a proper one now that I’m a full agent. Boss didn’t tell her my real code.” 

“Go on,” Greg said, “tell me the proper one.” 

“‘S ‘Bloodhound.’” 

“‘Cause you’re good at finding people.” 

“That’s me.” Romer took a deep breath, looked away from Greg and back again. “You really think she’s on the level, Silver Fox? The Bell Bird?” 

“Yeah,” Greg told him, “I do.” 

Romer stared at the floor for another moment. Then, “He really said that? About me?” 

“Yeah, kid. He did.” 

Romer finally looked up with a smile. “That’s alright then.”

~*~

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 4 is now up.

[kookieswan]

Requiem of Wind - Intro

Fae!Namjoon x Photographer!Reader

Word Count: 700+ Words

Genre: Fairy AU, Magic AU, Supernatural AU, Fluffy, very mild angst!

Warnings: None for now 🍃

Summary: Namjoon reminisces over their first meeting and what’s to come…

Notes: A little sneak peak of RoW! This is what our big mountain man Namjoon has turned into mhm. He’s still a big mountain man, but with a small secret heh. Kudos if you can guess what series it’s siblings with… Also, this is a piece to honor the release of Indigo 💙

This is an Intro piece for the Requiem of Wind series. Find the Masterlist here 🍃~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Namjoon had seen a lot of things in his days; life, death, all the messy and beautiful parts in between. However, he’d never seen a woman quite like her… The memory remains fresh in his mind, a smilie twitching to his lips as he stares off into the trees.

The way she ripped up the road in her old rusty truck, the way she’d flung herself out of it with a long loud stretch, the way she hollered in victory as she spun around in a minty sundress with a little potted plant in her hands… Until she saw him.

He had thought she might be embarrassed, might shy away from his imposing presence like others often do, but no. She had called out to him, a large smile on her face as she waved. She was boisterous, that much was clear, but pleasantly so. He didn’t sense anything negative, not at first anyway.

And so Namjoon waved back, fresh eggs from his chickens clutched in his hands almost tight enough to crack. It had been years since anyone ventured out here on their own accord, years since anyone had occupied the small cottage that sits across the way from his own. Not since…

Hm.

Not having any time to mentally prepare himself, she started to make her way over, walking toward him with curiosity in her gaze as the chickens clucked at his feet. As she got closer, he was able to make out her features better, was able to see how striking she was as the suns rays highlighted her beauty. He remembers her happy smile looking tight, her bright eyes looking guarded, and a bit of that negativity crawling forth.

“Hi there! I’m _____, it’s nice to meet you!” He had stared down at her outstretched hand stupidly for at least ten seconds before grabbing it. His own had completely engulfed hers, so he’d been careful to shake it lightly, attention then drawn in on her little plant balanced in one hand. The poor thing, which he now knows is called Pokey, had looked so sad.

“I’m… Namjoon.” He hadn’t used his name in a while, hadn’t spoken in a while even, so his voice came out raspy and deep, hand dropping hers to slowly poke at the plant. Perhaps a weird gesture, but he had called to him. Of course he had to answer.

“May I?” _____ had looked unbelievably confused at first before nodding, silently switching off with him, eggs clutched to her chest protectively as he held the plant. He had touched a few leaves, patted at the soil innocently, and then switched back with her with the faintest of smiles. Just a little pick me up, nothing too obvious.

“He’ll be alright.” She blinked up at him, eyes wide with wonder before looking back down at the small wilting plant. Another careful smile, and the most adorable giggle he’d ever heard in his life. Even now, nothing can compare to the way her laughs float through the air.

“I believe you Mr. Namjoon.” She nodded her head once, twice, and then turned on her heel to walk away without another word. He had watched silently, mind racing until Eun pecked at his leg judgmentally, drawing a chiding tut from him. With that, he also turned away, the rest of his night spent pondering on the days to come, the face he would now see each new morning…

What he wouldn’t get to see, however, was the way her face lit up like the sunrise as she saw Pokey in the morning; green and pretty and happy. Just like he’s meant to be, just like she’s meant to be. He imagined it though, saw her pretty smile and bright eyes shine like the moon in his mind.

“Mr. Namjoon!” He comes back to reality when she calls out to him, just like that first time, waving wildly from her little porch. She shines just as brightly as that imaginary moon, but unlike it, she’s real; she’s there. He stands readily, gentle smile on his face as he bridges the gap between them.

“Coming!”