#and i made them so quickly in this rush of adrenaline and pure love for him

[likesummerrainn]

AEW Dynamite | 04.05.23

[lovesickhughes]

hi hi hi!

i’ve been thinking about times with quinn where you get to tag along to whatever cities he’s playing in 🥹

maybe he has a couple days off between games and the two of you get to explore a new place together, sure he’s been there before but your wife eyes put everything in a new light for quinn

talking tennesse | quinn hughes

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i absolutely love this idea! i did indeed go a little bit crazy on this one- making it a full fic, but this idea really had me thinking about how lovely life would be with quinn hughes as your husband 🥹 i hope you enjoy!

pairings: quinn hughes x wife!reader

warnings: wives and girlfriends mentioned, please know i don't follow the canucks team, so all the WAGS mentioned are purely fictional and made up by me!

word count: 5.3k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Marriage comes with many aspects of happiness in all areas of your lives, but what you were most fulfilled with, was being able to spend the rest of your life, married to Quinn and being by his side as his biggest supporter of his career. Of course, it was a lifestyle you had grown to get used to, and was a big shift in your relationship when he was announced as captain of Vancouver, but nevertheless, being able to watch him succeed and play the game he loves, ultimately completed you as a being. 

A perk to Quinn’s career being a part of a national franchise, was the opportunities to travel to new cities alongside your newly pronounced husband. You were forever grateful to the team for their accommodations, but also appreciative towards Quinn who always made the extra effort to ensure you had the smoothest, and most safe travels to watch him play from such far distances from your home. 

Quinn and the Canucks were scheduled for a five-game road trip to the United States, playing every other day against Minnesota, Chicago, Columbus, St. Louis, ending their stretch on a Friday in Nashville, Tennessee before flying the far distance back to Vancouver for home games. 

Busy with other commitments, you had taken some time away from work to visit Quinn and watch his games against the Blues and Predators, scheduling your flights with Quinn a few months prior to make sure your schedules matched. 

Luckily enough, after their game in Nashville, the schedule had left them with a three day break, and their next practice being only two days after the last played game. When Quinn and you had realized he would have a few days off to relax, you both hopped on quickly to take advantage of being able to spend time together. 

—

You walked into your shared, Vancouver apartment, shrugging off your damp raincoat and hanging it on the hook that was placed to the left of the entrance. You slid your boots off and quickly dropped them next to the rack of shoes that were neatly organized before walking into the warm, aromatic environment with dimly lit lights creating a relaxed atmosphere that consumed you. 

Quinn was in the kitchen, the smell of food being cooked on the stove added to the aroma of your apartment, and you followed the scent as you turned the corner, revealing Quinn facing the stove, cooking what looked to be an assortment of veggies in one pan, while another pan cooked a seasoned chicken. 

A smile immediately rose to your face, the sight of your favourite brunette in a navy blue hoodie that looked two sizes too big, engulfing his frame, paired with black, baggy sweats, being the cause of your smile. The teddy bear look on Quinn elicited an excited swirl of adrenaline to rush through your body. And you absentmindedly walked up to his figure, sliding your arms around his torso from behind, his body immediately melting into yours at the contact. 

“Hi you,” you smiled up to meet Quinn’s gaze whose eyes already found your face, a soft expression written on his features. 

“Hey, how was work?” He asked immediately, Quinn turned in your grip and he maneuvered your two bodies slightly to the side to step away from the cooking food. His own hands met your waist, your black trousers descending in length to the ground and fabric pooling at your feet. His fingers toyed with the belt loop of your waistband, as he quickly reached down to peck your lips. 

You stood up tall in his embrace as you began to describe your day and all the small details about your commute, a meeting you had and a phone call with a client. As you continued, Quinn leaned against the marble countertop quietly and contently as he listened to you. It was one of his favourite things to do; to hear you talk, no matter what it was about. The energy you emitted just with hearing your voice and the passion and care behind it, was one of the main reasons Quinn knew he had to marry you. 

You had now made your way over to the fridge to grab a water bottle from one of the shelves, turning back around to take a seat on the island barstool, while Quinn went back to cooking, still actively listening to you talk. 

“Oh yeah, and I talked to my boss and she said I was more than good to take time off that weekend you’re in Nashville, so I’ll come down on the Wednesday night after your game in St. Louis and meet you at the hotel.” You said as you took a sip of water, rewarding your throat with moisture from all the words and speaking you had just produced. 

“That’s great, babe, we can do that tonight then.” Quinn said in regard to booking your flights. “Wanna make sure you get there as quickly and safely as possible.” He said, turning off the dial producing heat to cook the food. 

“Y’know it’s never a problem flying out, always smooth sailing.” You remarked, giggling a little at the slight spurge in Quinn’s protectiveness peering through. 

He hummed in response, “I know, just gotta make sure.” 

“Well,” you let out a breath as you stood to your feet, seeing Quinn was now dishing up each of your portions of dinner. “Thanks for being so considerate, Husband.” You said slyly as you walked up to him, bumping his hip with your own as you placed a quick kiss to his cheek before grabbing your plate and walking towards the small dining room to eat your meal together. 

—

The flight to Nashville was effortless, having slept for the majority of it, your baggage claim and commute from the airport to the hotel seemed to pass by as if you had only blinked. 

You checked into the hotel, reserved under Quinn and your name, and the day of travel had seemingly caught up to you, as you flopped on the large king mattress, coat and shoes still on, too exhausted to bother changing at the moment. 

After building up the courage to at least settle in for the night, you changed into a comfortable hoodie and lounge pants, pulling your hair up into a clip so it was out of your face and ordering a quick meal to eat while you caught the last few minutes of Quinn’s game in St. Louis. They were down 4-2 in the third period, desperately making an effort to make a comeback, but much to yours and the rest of the Canucks team and fans, they fell short at the end of regulation. 

You switched the channel to play in the background as you went to the attached bathroom and began getting ready for the night, and as you finished brushing your teeth, moving onto skincare, you heard the ringtone of your phone calling from the bed. 

Quickly, you shuffled to where the incoming call was being sent from, and you peered down at the phone, seeing the contact photo you had set for Quinn light across the screen. It was you and him on your wedding day, a black and white picture of him carefully leaning you backwards into a dip, his large hand spread over your back, and the smiles written across each of your faces as you looked deeply into one another’s eyes, encapsulated the exact feeling you experienced on that day, and spread to how you feel three-hundred and sixty-five days of the year, being with Quinn. 

You undoubtedly slide your finger on the screen to accept the call, and your screen is switched to be filled with Quinn’s tired, almost gloomy expression.

“Hey, honey,” you dragged out, lacing your tone with sympathy towards the recent loss. “How are you holding up?” You asked, walking back into the brightly lit bathroom, seeing the light reflect through the screen and onto Quinn’s face. 

He sighed, his distraught expression pulling at your heartstrings. “Could be better– it just sucks y’know? No one likes losing.” He explained. It was clear he was located somewhere quiet, most likely the bus given the slight background noise cutting through. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s never easy, but you guys have had a good road trip so far, I’m more than confident that you’ll close it out on a positive note in Nashville.” You reassured him. You knew it was hard on Quinn, losing and feeling an immense weight of pressure being the captain and holding himself and his teammates to certain standards and expectations, but you knew that sometimes– all Quinn needed was to talk and be with you. So you always let him. No matter the circumstance, you would listen when he just needed to get things off his chest, console him after a tough loss, and praise him in all the ways he deserved when they took home a big win. 

“Thanks, babe. I love you.” He said as you saw him run a hand through his messy, wet curls. “Plus, I get to spend the weekend with you in Nashville.” He added, a smile sounding through his voice at the thought of what was expected after the final game of their road trip. 

“You’re too sweet, you know that?” You asked, glancing at your phone as you finished your nighttime routine. 

“Of course, always wanna impress my girl.” He said proudly, a bright smile erupting on his face. 

You then found your way into the bed, pulling back the covers and sliding into the comfort of the mattress. It wasn’t long before Quinn and you ended the call, saying your goodnights and I love yous, and by the time you had turned off your phone and lights of the room, the only source coming from the TV that played in the back– you were deep into a much needed rest. 

It felt like mere minutes after your eyes fell heavy and into a deep sleep, when the sound of Quinn opening the door of the hotel and attempting to be as quiet as possible, stirred you in your sleep. 

You tried to ignore it, hearing the bustling around as Quinn probably unpacked his bag and changed out of his suit, and it wasn’t long before you felt the dip in the mattress as Quinn slid in next to you. 

“Are you awake?” He whispered, barely audible.

You groaned in response, wanting to maintain your state or tranquility, but you rolled over to face him, your eyes slightly squinting opening to peer at his face, but the exhaustion still laid heavy on you, so all you could gather was a stretch of your arm up to his shoulder that felt warm and bare.

Quinn adjusted under the weight of your arm, his own hand finding your side as he snuggled into your warm figure. And all you could process was the feeling of Quinn’s breaths against your body as your eyes fluttered back to their position and your mind fell unconscious. 

—

The warm, morning sun bled through the thin fabric of the curtains of the hotel room, a calm silence falling over as Quinn and you were fast asleep, the events from the previous night wiping all energy from you. 

As you slowly came to wake, you felt the presence of Quinn from behind you, his warm body emitting heat under the covers and spreading to you, as his front was pressed up against your back. Your eyes closed further than they already were as you cleared your blurry, sleep-filled vision, and you noticed the weight of Quinn’s arm, protectively wrapped around your torso. The heavy weight of his arm justified to you how exhausted Quinn was from the long travelling and disappointing loss the night before. 

To spare him, you avoid waking him up, rolling over to face him while under his grasp, and you slide your own arm over top of his shoulder and wrap it to entangle your fingers in his luscious brown curls. 

You dozed off, back into your slumber as you fell content with the feeling of being so close to Quinn, and an hour had passed before you both began to stir, Quinn’s grip on your side tightening as he stretched under the sheets. 

“Morning, pretty.” Quinn greeted with a tired smile on his face. His eyes were barely open, avoiding the blinding light of the sun that shone through into the room, and you peck his lips in response, taking your hand and pushing away the stray strands of his hair that fell onto his face. 

“G’morning, babe. How did you sleep? I barely heard you come in last night– when did you get in?” You perked, sitting up in the bed, still under the plush duvet of the hotel bed, as Quinn’s arm fell to your hip, grasping at the love handle. It was one of the things you loved most about Quinn– his desire to always touch you. 

Whether it was while you two were at home, in your own comfort watching a movie and he’d rub gentle, sweet nothings on your shoulder as he wrapped his arm around you, the fabric of your hoodie rubbing against your skin that sent waves of excitement rushing through your body. Or even when you attended parties or events being held by the hockey team. Alongside Quinn, when talking with fellow teammates and management members, the feeling of Quinn’s hand spread on the small of your back as he was deeply invested in a conversation.

You briefly glance at the hand on your hip, following it up his arm to his face, taking in the sight of a tired Quinn– messy hair, only covered with a pair of sweat shorts and nothing else. You wanted nothing more than to pounce at the sight, but you knew there were plans in order, other than spending the entire day in the sheets. 

“I think I got in around three, not too bad, but still. You were passed right out,” He chuckled, closing his eyes momentarily to reminisce at the sight from last night. “But I slept well, I’m ready for our day today.” He nodded towards you, a smile erupting on your face at the mention of what brought you to Nashville. 

Not only would you be catching the game this evening, Quinn and you, along with a few other members of the Canucks and their wives and/or girlfriends, all decided to venture to the infamous Broadway Street in Nashville– known for its amazing live music bars and entertainment. 

You rolled out of bed excitedly, jumping a slight amount as you walked over to the bathroom to begin getting ready by preparing to shower. “I’m so looking forward to it,” you called to Quinn who was still laid in bed, “Natalie was telling me about a live performance at the one place we booked the reso for, so I’m super excited to see the show.” You smiled to yourself, anticipating the events that were soon approaching. 

You briskly showered, finishing in what seemed like record time and Quinn soon followed suit, stepping into the warm bathroom to get ready. As you began your makeup routine, he quickly showered, stepping out in nothing but a hotel towel, hung loosely around his waist, inevitably catching your attention. 

Quinn only chuckled, knowing you like the back of his hand, and slid his arm around your side, squeezing the skin as he placed a soft, wet kiss against your neck, making you inhale sharply in response. 

Quinn had practice before tonight’s game against the Predators, so while he was with his team for the majority of the day, you planned to spend it alongside the other wives and girlfriends of the players– going for brunch and then touring a few of the wineries a few other girls had mentioned. 

It wasn’t long before Quinn and you parted ways, bidding your farewells and making sure each one of you were satisfied with the amount of kisses and hugs exchanged. Quinn, of course, was the one who desired a few more before he left, but you were quick to lightheartedly protest, pushing him out of the hotel room. 

—

Brunch was fantastic, the girls had their fair share of breakfast mimosas along with a delicious meal, and the wineries occupied their afternoon before they all commuted to the arena for the game this evening. 

You were sat with Natalie, Cassandra and Ashley, some of the girlfriends you had grown close to over the years of Quinn being in Vancouver, and you both being together. 

You were dressed in navy blue jeans and a cream-coloured blouse, alongside a black, leather jacket with a large number ‘43’ embroidered into the back with the Canucks logo stitched in as well– the jacket being gifted from the team to all the players' significant others. On your feet, you styled a pair of cowgirl boots, ones you had specifically picked out with Quinn for this trip, and you had admired your outfit for a few extra minutes before leaving earlier in the day to brunch. 

“I’m so excited for tonight,” Cassandra exhaled, turning around in her seat to face the rest of the group who squished together in the backseat, “and I must say– we all look so hot right now, the guys aren’t gonna know what to do with themselves!” She exclaimed, earning a laugh from everyone else. 

“I know! And I love all our matching jackets, I’m definitely posting something for this trip.” Ashley responded. You nodded in agreement, a bright smile of excitement written all over your face, as you dropped your attention to your phone in your hand, a blank message to Quinn waiting to be sent. 

It was a game day ritual, sending your good luck charm and cheering him on, even if it was just over the phone– you knew it meant a lot. 

Y/n

Goodluck tn, babe. I love you! Go kill it 💙

Closing your phone and watching the scenery pass by as the sun began to set and nighttime was slowly inching around the horizon, you felt a buzz from your phone, and you didn’t even look to know who the notification was from. 

—

The game had been an intense, energy-filled forty minutes. Nashville and Vancouver were tied after two periods, and it was now time for the last twenty minutes of regulation to achingly pass by in anticipation to declare a winner. 

You could tell the team was tired, the long stretch of road games, against intense teams and long days of travel– it was starting to catch up on everyone, but you were more than sure the team had it in them to close this one off. 

After the intense battle, the Canucks were able to seal off the win, scoring another two goals in the last twenty minutes, one of the goals being scored by the one and only. The few Vancouver fans excitedly cheered at the win, while Nashville fans began to clear out of the stands, the group of wives and girlfriends holding back in their section of seats before making their way to where the players would depart. 

You stood with Ashley and Natalie, the pair being immersed in their phones most likely putting together a post from today’s adventure, and you also found yourself scrolling through your feed while you waited impatiently to see your favourite brunette turn around the corner of the dressing room hallway. 

It wasn’t long before the players began making their way out of the dressing room, their amped up energy filling the atmosphere, leaving everyone on their toes for ways to celebrate and close out their road trip on a high note. You watched eagerly as each player carried their large hockey bag over their shoulder and placed it near the pile where they would later be sent off, then each hockey player going to greet their guests. 

Just as you were putting your phone away into your purse, you heard the familiar voice appear louder as the man behind the voice approached the exit. Catching your attention, you look up from your side to see the only face you couldn’t wait to be greeted with, Quinn’s glory radiating off his face at the victorious game. He quickly shuffled over to the bag area, slipping off his heavy duffel bag to the floor before turning his entire body in your direction– his face almost immediately lighting up further than it had been mere seconds ago. 

He walked proudly over to where you stood, arms reaching out to pull you into his embrace, as a smile of your own broke out on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your head falling into the crook of his collarbone as you two reconnected after being apart since earlier in the day. 

“Good job, my love,” you mumbled against the skin of his neck. His hands that were placed near your ribs, fell down your sides to your hips, gripping your sides with intent as he pulled away from your hug to meet your eyes. “You did so amazing today.” You smiled, even the words falling off your tongue making you feel proud of your boy. 

“Thank you, baby.” He quipped, meeting your gaze as you looked into his, a soft smile falling over his face as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips. When you feel the contact, his warm, soft lips sending shocks of energy through your body, you feel Quinn’s hands against you tug in a way that speaks thousands of words without needing to. 

Just from the kiss and his touch, you know he is grateful to have you cheering him on, and being there after the game to congratulate him. You both knew, being busy with your own careers, it wasn’t often that you two would be able to spend a weekend away together during the regular season of hockey. So, the fact that you were here, waiting for him after the game and having plans for the rest of the night, you both knew was something you would cherish immensely. 

The plan was set that after the game, the group of hockey players and their wives and girlfriends would head to dinner at a restaurant close to the Broadway strip, before attending a few country bars and enjoying the rest of the night with live music. 

“Ready to head out?” Quinn asked, his arm still wrapped around your waist as you stood with the rest of the group in the arena. 

You hummed in response, “mhm. I’m excited for the rest of tonight.” You smiled softly, leaning your head on Quinn’s shoulder. 

Minutes passed by quickly as everyone cleared out of the arena, everyone driving separately to their hotels to quickly change and get ready for the night out in Nashville. Quinn had changed into a pair of jeans, paired with a white t-shirt that had a beer branded on it, along with his go-to pair of white sneakers. While for you, changed into light pink floral sundress and kept the same pair of cowgirl boots on to pair with the dress. Since the sun had well set hours ago and the chill of the night had taken over, you made sure to slip on a boyfriend-style jean jacket to give yourself an extra layer of warmth.

After freshening up, hand-in-hand with Quinn, you both walked down to the lobby of the hotel, waiting for Natalie and Tyler to make their way to the front and meet you to leave for the night out. 

It wasn’t long before Natalie greeted you, pulling you into a tight hug, even though it hadn’t been long since you last saw her– it was the dynamic you two shared and grew over time. 

With the uber waiting outside, you all begin to walk out, Tyler and Natalie walking ahead of Quinn and you, and you look over in the direction of your husband when you feel the touch of his hand on the small of your back as you walk outside to the car. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” Quinn smiled softly, rubbing his hand up and down your back and you turned your body to lean into him, a hand coming to place on his broad chest. 

“You’re too sweet, I love you.” You grin as you give Quinn a quick peck on the lip. You slide into the uber, Quinn following in behind and shutting the door once he was situated and the ride began shortly after.

As you all conversed together, you chatted here and there, but mainly listened, loving the sound of Quinn proudly speaking about things the two of you had done recently, or whatever the topic of conversation was. You let him talk, not minding the silence, and also being entranced by his charismatic persona. His hand was placed firmly on your exposed knee, caressing the skin and making your body heat up in response. You were always mindful of the fact Quinn still had his charm and ways of making you feel so full of love. 

By the time you arrived at dinner, the majority of the others were already seated, greeting the four of you as you entered and found your seats at the large table. The restaurant was country themed, as expected, the walls covered with memorabilia of the history of Nashville and its popular musical history. Once you were comfortable in your seats and the server came around, the four of you had requested a round of drinks and a meal for each of you that had called your name as you looked over what the restaurant had to offer. 

As you ate, drank and caught up with the team, Quinn’s arm was splayed on the back of your chair, every so often running his hand up to your shoulder to give a soft squeeze of reassurance. 

You were deeply immersed in a conversation with one of the girlfriend’s of the players who you were sat across, about the new hair product she had just tried and highly recommended when Quinn’s hand found the small of your back once again and you felt the warmth of his presences increase as he leaned in closer to you. 

“I’m gonna run to the washroom, okay? You good? Need anything?” He asked softly in your ear over the loud noise of the audience in the restaurant and the music that played over the speakers. You smiled softly at him and nodded, reaching your own hand to his forearm where you gave a reconfirming tug that you were content. 

The blonde from across from you cooed at the interaction, “You two are so adorable, almost about time you start making some mini version of each other!” She exclaimed. You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that was a hot topic of conversation for a lot of people in your and Quinn’s lives. Your parents and even Quinn’s had started to ask the question of when you two were going to start having kids, and of course it was something you talked about, but you both had agreed it was something that you would wait on, and the right timing would come when necessary. 

Ashley’s head popped up at the conversation, quirking her head to the side in amusement and a smile beginning to break through. 

“Oh, what are we talking about?” She eagerly pressed, leaning in your direction. You only shook your head and rolled your eyes at her excitement. Ashley had recently given birth to a beautiful boy, Carter, and ever since she had her first, she had incessantly pried at when it was going to be your turn to have a little one welcomed into the world. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you laughed at Ashley’s interest, earning quick nods from her. “We’ve definitely talked about it.” You responded to the initial question. 

“Talked about what?” You heard from behind you, as Quinn found his seat again, his arm immediately taking its place on the back of your chair. 

“How you two would make the most beautiful babies and should definitely give Carter a little best friend.” Ashley responded in a sing-song voice, fighting the urge to let out a giggle. 

Quinn hums and tilts his head back slightly, “Ah, I see. Well, then yes, we’ve definitely talked about it, but I wouldn’t mind having a little one sometime soon.” He smiled towards Ashley who looked like she could almost burst from excitement. Quinn’s hand found your thigh, giving a quick squeeze to grasp your attention and you looked over towards him, a knowing look in his eyes. 

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing what the certain look he gave meant. It was similar to the one when he would reassure you in moments where you needed support, the look when he would make sure you were honest with him with your needs. Even the look he gave when he first asked you to be his girlfriend, the first time he said he loved you and the time he asked you to marry him. 

Who knew one small look from the man who changed your life completely, could mean such an array of things. 

��

Later that night, after dinner had wrapped up and you all began your journey to some of the famous country bars on the strip of Broadway, Quinn and you walked together with your hands tightly intertwined, swaying back and forth with each step. 

You entered the one bar, live music filling the room with the sound of country music hitting your ears. You had followed the group to the bar, ordering one of their specials before finding a small table to stand around. Quinn’s arm tightly wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side and his warmth radiating off of him, left you in a content state of peace. You looked up to Quinn, meeting his gaze which was so loving and endearing you knew he was so appreciative to be here with the person he loved more than you would ever know, and when a slow, love song was introduced by the live band and you excitedly urged him to slow dance with you, he without a doubt followed the drag of your hand in his towards then open dance floor. 

His hands found your waist and your arms locked behind his neck, his forehead leaning down against yours as you listened to the band cover Morgan Wallen’s “Chasin’ You”. You swayed back and forth, letting the music bring you into a trance of pure bliss as the world enclosed around the two of you.

When the song ended, Quinn’s eyes that had fell shut, opened to look down at you, and he instinctively placed a soft, wet kiss against your lips, the taste of his drink spilling into your own mouth as your hands tugged softly at the soft tips of his brown curls. 

“I love you so much, I’m so glad we’re here right now.” Quinn said softly, earning a smile to tug on your face as your stomach did a flip and heart skipped a beat at his words. 

“Me too.” You whispered softly, pulling yourself into his embrace and resting your head against his chest, still swaying. Quinn placed a delicate kiss to the top of your head, your hands now intertwined again on either side of you. 

“I want nothing more than to spend more time with you exploring places like this, and even expanding our family.” He said pulling away and giving that same, familiar look in his gaze. 

Your one eyebrow raised in question, “Is that so?” You pressed jokingly, as you couldn’t help but smile in such adoration for the brunette. 

“More than.” He smiled, pulling you into another tight, warm embrace.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! feel free to send in requests! 🫶🏻

[blue-jisungs]

4 soft thoughts.. maybe something like waiting at the dorm for Intak after theyve had practice? 😊😊

driving force

[ axe’s memo ! ] ahhh someone finally reqing for my boyfie intak anon ill kiss u on the forehead gently 🤲

[ extras ! ] a quick write on my phone, not proofread (the day i do is the day we celebrate)

intak desired nothing more than rest. actually, no, scratch that. he desired resting with you in his arms. he believed in you having magic powers that brought all his life force back after a tiring practice.

however, he knew you're busy. a small pout accomanied his features throughout the whole day ever since you texted him that you have to stay up late at work.

the boys went to grab some food but he wasn't in the mood and decided to go straight to their dorm. sluggishly opening the door, painfully slowly entering the dorm... everything was so halted whenever you weren't around.

immersing himself in the silence of the place, he took off his shoes and went to grab fresh clothes. then, he stepped into the shower. putting a playlist in the background and losing himself in the feeling of water washing away the tiredness, he didn't realize the faint sounds coming from the kitchen.

the kitchen, where you were giggling underneath your breath while finishing a meal for him. keeho texted you anout intak skipping the meal so you decided to save the day. and it so happened that you-

"huh?"

you turned around and saw intak with a towel wrapped around his waist loosely. water was dripping down his toned stomach and dark, wet hair was falling onto his forehead. you gulped and shyly looked up, catching a flash of proud smirk on his lips.

"am i hallucinating or...?" he grinned, slowly walking up to you.

you turned around quickly to finish decorating his meal.

"it turned out that i wasn't needed. in any other scenario i would be offended but i gladly took the offer to leave early" a hum left your lips as you felt his arms wrapping around you. his wet body instatly soaked your shirt but you didn't mind. you knew intak needed that hug.

he was like a puppy, needing to be glued to you at all times.

"i'm happy you're here" intak mumbled into your neck, clinging onto you as close as humanly possible. if he could, he would crawl and live inside your skin.

"me too. i need to recharge my dance machine, hm?" you grinned and put your hand over his that was resting atop your hip. he only hummed, not able to form a coherent answer "you need to eat first though, takie"

while he practically inhaled the food, you made the bed and grabbed pyjamas for the two of you. it was quite early but he seemed exhausted, his energy levels lower than usually.

before you realized, he was pulling you towards the bed with a pout on his lips. you plopped onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. the smell of his shampoo filled your nostrils.

"i hate when you're away for so long" he murmured into your neck, wrapping his hands around your waist. you leaned away for a bit, some of your hair tangling in his face. he brushed them away tenderly, pure love and adoration in his eyes.

"i know, 'm sorry. i need to tell my boss that my clingy puppy of a boyfriend needs me. that'll do the trick, hm? you teased him and placed a gentle kiss on his nose. that only caused him to roll his eyes.

"and you can't even kiss me properly" he grunted.

"my bad, you big baby" you smiled and fixed your position so you could kiss him more comfortably.

your kisses were quite literally intak's driving force. despite all the soreness and tiredness, he felt a rush of adrenaline in his veins once your lips merged with his in a sweet kiss. you both tasted like mint toothpaste but neither of you minded. what counted in that moment was your sole presence and shared love.

m. list <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

@mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee

[uniquexusposts]

I love you - L. Sargeant

Summary: Y/n when she finds out about the dismissal of Logan.

Y/n stepped out of the office building, the evening air brushing against her skin as she slipped her hand into her purse to pull out her phone. The screen flickered to life, exposing a photo that never failed to warm her heart—a snapshot of Logan, captured in a moment of pure, unguarded joy. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, staring straight at her through the camera with that infectious smile that made everything else in the world seem distant and insignificant. Her own smile crept across her lips, soft and instinctive.

With a small sigh of contentment, she placed her AirPods in her ears, the familiar opening chords of her favourite song easing her out of the moment and back into the present. The city around her was alive with its usual chaos—cars honking, people chattering, the distant roar of a plane overhead—but the music created a barrier, a comforting bubble that made the world feel a little less hectic, a little more bearable.

She put her phone back into her coat purse as she set off towards the tube station. The streets, though bustling with the typical rush-hour crowd, had become second nature to her; she moved through them with a kind of unconscious grace, weaving in and out of the throng with ease. The cobblestones beneath her feet were wet from a recent drizzle, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlights as dusk slowly folded into night.

Her thoughts began to drift, as they often did on these solitary walks, from the mundane details of the day’s work to the warmth waiting for her at home. The stark contrast between the bustling heart of the city, with its relentless pace and constant noise, and the quiet sanctuary they had carved out for themselves in their little corner of London, always brought her a sense of relief. It was the difference between holding her breath and finally exhaling, a sigh of contentment at the thought of their peaceful neighbourhood.

The tube station loomed ahead, its entrance a yawning mouth that swallowed the constant stream of commuters. Y/n descended the stairs, the music in her ears blending with the rhythmic clatter of trains and the murmur of voices. The train arrived with a gust of wind, the doors sliding open to reveal the usual mix of strangers packed inside. She squeezed in, finding a spot to stand near the door, one hand gripping the pole for balance as the train jolted forward. Her thoughts drifted back to Logan, to the look in his eyes when he’d kissed her goodbye that morning—a look that had seemed almost distant, like something was weighing on him, something he hadn’t quite found the words to share. 

This F1 season had been extremely difficult for Logan. The pressure, the endless travel, the scrutiny from fans and media alike—it was all beginning to take its toll on him, and she could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was looking. He had always been passionate about racing, had always thrived on the adrenaline and the challenge, but this season was different. With each race, it seemed like the weight of it all was pushing him closer to the edge.

She had seen him at his best—confident, focused, driven—but lately, those moments had been few and far between. Instead, there was a weariness in his eyes, a sense of doubt that had crept in and taken root. She had tried to be there for him, to support him in every way she could, but she knew that some battles had to be fought alone. Still, it pained her to see him struggle, to see the sport he loved so much slowly drain the life out of him.

Her stop came quicker than expected. She quickly exited the tube and the station and made a quick stop at a local store, to pick up a parcel. When at the shop, her eyes spotted Kinder Bueno. Without hesitation, she bought one. Kinder Bueno was a thing in Logan and Y/n’s life. They always shared one. And Y/n felt like sharing a Kinder Bueno. The parcel safely tucked under her arm and the Kinder Bueno in her purse, she left the shop and began the walk home. The streets were quiet, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows that danced across the pavement. She found herself appreciating the stillness, the way the city seemed to pause here, allowing her a moment of peace before she reached their flat.

The front door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, stepping into the dark hallway. The hallway was always dimly lit when someone was home, so it made her wonder if Logan was home. She closed the door behind her, took off her shoes and walked to the living area. 

“Hey,” she said slightly surprised when she saw Logan sitting in one of the chairs of the dining table. He was facing the windows, looking outside. Y/n put her purse, bag and parcel on the table and took out her AirPods. She got no answer from her boyfriend. 

There was something off in the way he sat, a stiffness in his posture that sent a ripple of unease through her. 

“Hey,” she said again, trying to get in contact with Logan. 

He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see Y/n standing at the other side of the table. “Hey,” he murmured, forcing a smile that barely touched his lips and never reached his eyes.

The smile was wrong—flat, almost hollow. It lacked the warmth she was used to, the easy way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he saw her, as if just her presence was enough to make everything right in the world. But tonight, that spark was missing, replaced by something cold and distant.

What a welcome after a week apart from each other, Y/n thought, a pang of sadness settling in her chest. She had been looking forward to this moment all day, to seeing him, to feeling his arms around her after what felt like an eternity of being apart. But now, standing there with him just a few feet away, she felt a chasm between them that hadn’t been there before.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked and stepped towards him. “What is wrong?” 

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of the world was pulling him down. Then, slowly, he shook his head, a tremor running through him. He took a deep breath that seemed to shudder through his entire body, he looked back at her, his expression crumbling into one of raw vulnerability.

“I’m gone,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in a single, desperate breath. His voice cracked, the bravado he would tried to maintain splintering into pieces as the reality of his situation overwhelmed him. And just like that, he burst into tears, the sobs tearing through him with a force that startled them both. His body shook with the intensity of it, the weight of all he had been holding back crashing down on him at once. He tried to speak, to say something, anything that could make sense of what he was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was cry, releasing the anguish that had been building inside him for far too long.

He broke. 

“Fuck,” was Y/n’s first reaction. She stepped to him, closing the distance between them in an instant. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice—she just wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort, of safety. He buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her shirt as he clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling with her own emotions as she stroked his back, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

But she knew that right now, those words might feel empty to him. Nothing she said could change what he was going through, could make the pain disappear. All she could do was be there, hold him, and let him know that he wasn’t alone in this, no matter how lost he felt.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Y/n whispered. 

It broke her heart to see him like this. Racing was his everything. It was the fire that fuelled him, the passion that had driven him for as long as she had known him. It was more than just a job—it was his identity, his purpose. And now, that part of him had been ripped away so brutally, that he was left floundering in its absence, lost in a darkness that seemed impenetrable.

She had never seen him like this before. Even in the worst of times, he had always managed to find some glimmer of hope, some reason to keep pushing forward. But now, that strength, that resilience, seemed to have deserted him, leaving only the raw, unfiltered agony of his loss.

He couldn’t stop crying, the sobs tearing through him with a force that made her heart ache. It was as if every tear carried with it a piece of his shattered dream, a fragment of the life he had built around his love for racing. She held him tighter, her own tears falling silently as she pressed her lips to his temple, trying to convey through touch what words could not. She ignored the tension in her muscles as she sat in an uncomfortable way. It didn’t matter now. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the sound of his weeping. She wished she could take his pain away, bear the burden for him, if only for a moment. But all she could do was be there, anchoring him in the storm that raged within him, holding him as he cried out the grief that had taken root in his soul.

Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and slowly, painfully, his sobs began to subside, his body gradually relaxing in her arms. But the tears didn’t stop, and she knew that this was just the beginning—that the road ahead would be long and difficult, filled with moments like this one where the weight of his loss would threaten to crush him.

Logan shifted slightly, his head moving away from her shoulder, creating a small distance between them. His eyes, red and swollen, searched hers, a silent plea lingering in the depths of his gaze. As their eyes met, the vulnerability there was almost unbearable to witness. He blinked, and a few quiet tears slipped free, tracing slow paths down his cheeks. The sight of them, so small yet so heavy with meaning, sent a fresh wave of sorrow through Y/n’s chest.

Without thinking, she raised her hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, the familiar motion meant to soothe, to comfort. Logan closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it ever so slightly, as if that simple act could shield him from the harsh reality they were facing.

For a moment, they just sat there, the world outside their little bubble distant and irrelevant. The warmth of her hand in his hair, the soft rise and fall of their breaths, the silent exchange of emotions that words could never quite capture—it all felt like a fragile lifeline, something to hold onto as the storm continued to rage around them.

When Logan finally opened his eyes again, the tears still lingered, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of gratitude, of understanding. It was as if, in that small gesture, Y/n had reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this, that no matter how lost he felt, she would be there, steadfast and unwavering, ready to catch him whenever he stumbled.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he whispered, his voice rough and broken, each word carrying the weight of his fear, his uncertainty.

“That’s okay,” she whispered. “You will figure it out.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and though the sadness in his eyes didn’t disappear, it seemed just a little less overwhelming, as if the burden had lightened, if only by a fraction. He nodded slowly, as if trying to absorb the truth of her words, to let them sink in deep enough to hold onto when the darkness returned.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting her lips linger there for a moment, a silent promise that she would be his anchor, his strength, whatever he needed her to be.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice tender, carrying the weight of everything she felt for him, everything she couldn’t put into words.

Logan’s eyes became blurry again, the tears welling up as the depth of her love, her unwavering support, threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel her lips press softly against his cheekbone, a gentle reminder of her presence, of her unwavering commitment to stand by him no matter how dark the days ahead might be.

He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely, but this time there was something different in them—something less rooted in despair and more in the profound sense of being loved, of not having to carry this burden alone. The sensation of her lips against his skin, her breath warm and steady, was an anchor in the storm, grounding him in the here and now, pulling him back from the abyss.

“I love you too,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with emotion, his heart aching with both the pain of his loss and the overwhelming gratitude he felt for her. He turned his head slightly, just enough to press his own lips to her temple, a quiet gesture of thanks, of love, of everything he couldn’t find the words to express.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u

[chiqelatasblog]

CHAPTER THREE : Second visit of the Death

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Chapter Two is here.

Pairing : Sub-Zero | Bi-Han x Reader

Summary : Adapting to life within the Lin Kuei clan, you notice significant differences between their ways and those of your own clan. The tension around Bi-Han’s demeanor persists, and you feel at a loss about how to approach him. Despite the challenges, you’re surprised by the Lin Kuei’s compassionate side. However, an ordinary tea takes an unexpected dark turn, and the consequences become dire.

Author’s Note : I use both Sektor’s and Cyrax’s appearances from the MK9 game. Frost is also here. All of them are human in this story.

Warning : Details about violence & poisoning

.

.

.

Many years ago...

On a cold autumn night, when the last yellow leaves on the trees were falling to the ground and the scent of snow wafted through the air, you came face to face with death for the first time.

You were a little girl, just about to turn six. Though your imagination was vast, your feet were always firmly planted on the ground. As the only daughter of the clan’s grandmaster, you knew a different life awaited you compared to other children, and you had a responsibility to fulfill those expectations. It was your duty.

At the same time, you also understood that your father had never loved you like your other siblings. Yet, you didn’t realize there was a deeper hatred underneath, one that could turn your life upside down from that night on.

Could a father harbor such a significant grudge against his own child? It appeared that your father was nurturing something sinister.

Just before the assassin came to your room, although you didn't hear footsteps, your ability to control shadows made you aware of a visitor outside the door. It immediately put you on high alert, pulling you out of the sweet embrace of sleep.

You knew that no one would approach your room secretly and quietly like this at this time of night. One of your small hands gripped the hunting knife you always kept under the pillow.

Even though your younger brother had started basic martial training with the others, your father excluded you, insisting you didn't need it. Instead, you were taught etiquette, manual skills, and other noble womanly pursuits.

So, you didn’t know how to defend yourself, but you observed others training from afar. There was also a knife your mother had given you, tightly held between your fingers. She had always warned you never to let the knife stray far, and for the first time, you felt fortunate that you kept that promise.

A year ago, you were given a single room as you were deemed old enough and had to leave your parents. For the first time, your room seemed intimidating and vast to your eyes.

Finally, a decrepit human figure emerged from the shadows, and you held your breath. Your vision blurred with tears from panic, and your heart pounded with adrenaline, causing your lower jaw to tremble under the influence of the fear you felt. You had never experienced such fear in your short life – a pure fear that made your whole body tremble and made you want to sob.

Everything erupted in an instant. Things happened so fast that you didn't even get a chance to understand.

When the assassin deftly cut your exposed throat with a swift movement, your entire world came to a halt. Blood splattered around your chin like a red dye. The pain was so intense that you choked on the blood rushing to your mouth, and tears, previously restrained, quickly overflowed from your eyes.

The air became thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the room seemed to spin in a disorienting dance of shadows and crimson. Your fingers, trembling, clutched at the bedsheets, stained with the evidence of your struggle. The moonlight cast eerie reflections on the walls, mirroring the fading flicker of your consciousness.

Coughing and attempting to breathe, you struggled as your vision blurred. The pain was sharp, and your vision quickly darkened, fading into nothingness. It felt like someone was dimming the light of a lamp, and you believed the end had come. To die in your own bed, at the hands of an assassin—it was too cruel an end.

Amidst your closing eyes, you vaguely heard your mother's screams. Everything disappeared into a black, deep void, and the pain vanished, merging into the darkness as if it had never existed.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself staring at the familiar ceiling of your room. Standing still for a few minutes, you couldn't comprehend what was happening. Was the entire ordeal a horrific nightmare? When you attempted to straighten up in confusion, moving your neck even slightly brought such a sharp pain that tears instantly filled your eyes.

Frozen in fear of the pain returning, the sliding door of the room opened, and your mother and the clan doctor entered, expressing concern from every angle.

"(y/n)! Thank God you're awake!"

As your mother rushed inside and opened her arms, carefully embracing you, tears began to flow. Silent sobs shook your small frame as she stroked your hair and tried to comfort you with her sweet words. Hugging your mother more tightly, you sought refuge, as if trying to hide from the entire world in her embrace.

Since birth, the only place you felt safe was in your mother's arms. Only there could you express yourself authentically, unreservedly showing your feelings. Your mother was the only person in the entire clan who accepted you completely.

"Don't cry, my beautiful girl, it's all over now. Your father took care of the assassin, nothing like this will happen again. Don't worry at all."

After your mother placed a loving kiss on the top of your head, she stepped back and wiped the tears from your eyes. When you tried to speak, she silenced you by placing a gentle finger on your lips.

‘’No, you are forbidden to speak until your throat heals,” your mother declared.

Following her words, the doctor carefully explained what you should and shouldn’t do, framing it in a way that you could understand. Listening with fearful eyes, every swallow was a painful reminder of the wound in your throat. Could you speak again after such an injury? The possibility felt shrouded in uncertainty.

According to the doctor, you would start to regain the ability to speak in five or six months, but the pain persisted, as sharp as if the knife that cut your throat had never left. It was enough to extinguish hope, as fragile as a candle flame.

And that was exactly what happened.

As the days transformed slowly into weeks and the weeks into months, you learned to live with the pain—or perhaps "adapt" would be a more accurate term. Coming from a warrior clan where your father held the position of the grandmaster, you never wanted to overshadow his glory with your weakness.

Despite your young age and stature, you always tried your best. When the dosage of painkillers decreased over time and the pain intensified, that's when you began using your power for the first time.

The shadows became your allies—a refuge for the weakness, pain, tears, and the loneliness of not being around anyone except your mother. You learned to conceal all these emotions in the shadows.

For a long time, you were afraid to sleep alone in your room. However, explaining the situation to your father seemed more frightening, so you began hiding in the shadows created by moonlight in your room. You learned to console yourself from nightmares in which you woke up sobbing.

Feeling safe in the dark world felt strange at first. You had never liked the dark—your brothers would sometimes use shadows to scare you or tell scary stories, intensifying your fear. But this time, darkness began to feel like a friend rather than an arch-enemy.

When it all became too overwhelming, the darkness became your new cocoon where you felt safe. This bond with your power was established as the only way you could sleep at night. You didn't know exactly how to use it yet, or what it was capable of, but you became skilled at hiding yourself.

This newfound ability allowed you to rebuild the confidence you had lost over time. You still harbored fear of your father, your brothers, and anyone else bigger and taller than you, as well as sudden noises and movements. However, it brought comfort to know you had a place to hide from everyone.

A year later, a scar adorned your throat, a reminder of that fateful moment, but speaking remained an act you were afraid to perform. On the other hand, as promised by your mother, there was no further attempt on your life, and your father decided that you should train with your brothers.

Then, one morning, when you woke up late due to your nightmares, you discovered the truth. . Transporting through the shadows to move silently, you stumbled upon your instructors whispering quietly among themselves as they headed to the training ground.

It was none other than your own father who had attempted to kill you.

Today...

Thanks to Bi-Han's guidance, you easily found the kitchen.

You had been hungry for so long that nausea had set in, prompting you to seek out the kitchen to put an end to it. On this pretext, you also wanted to take the opportunity to explore comfortably while no one had started the day yet.

During your first night in your room, stress had gripped your body, preventing sleep. At some point, even though you couldn't decipher how it happened, your eyes closed. However, in that brief moment of sleep, you found no relief. Stress, anxiety, and all the negative factors from your mission led you straight to a memory you could never erase but tried to bury deep down.

You hadn't revisited the memories of your assassination for a long time, and you even thought you were getting past it. With no apparent reason to fear for your life – being successful in martial arts and trained to turn every disadvantage to your advantage – you believed you had control over your vulnerabilities. Yet, it seemed that under stress, your subconscious was still weak, dragging you back to times when you were incapable of self-protection.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to push the memories out of your mind. Upon finding the kitchen, you immersed yourself in breakfast preparation, only to be politely directed to the dining room by attendants responsible for the clan’s daily affairs.

As you looked at the chairs at the long table, hesitation crept in about where to sit. Bi-Han, as the grandmaster, should be seated at the head, and it would make sense for you to sit beside him as his wife. However, due to the tension between you, Bi-Han's presence felt dominating, even suffocating.

Moreover, you didn't want to risk sitting close to him after the insult he hurled about the bedroom issue the previous night. This time, you didn't want to be exposed in public simply because you sat next to him. Your pride had been wounded by his arrogant words and contempt for you from the very first day.

Therefore, you decided to secure yourself by opting to sit in one of the chairs in the middle. It wasn't long after you took your seat that Kuai Liang and Tomas, whom you recalled were Bi-Han's brothers, entered with another dark-skinned man. You remembered seeing him at the wedding ceremony but had no idea about his name.

All three of them seemed slightly surprised to see you but didn't hesitate to offer a small greeting with nods. You reciprocated with the same, along with a friendly smile and voice.

"Good morning."

Tomas, with his unusual gray hair that made his name easy to remember, was the first to respond to you.

"Good morning. I hope your first night here was comfortable."

When Kuai Liang jabbed Tomas hard with his elbow upon his words, Tomas realized the implication and raised his hands as if to say, ‘I am innocent,’ in a panic that contradicted the composure of a ninja. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and his grayish light blue eyes widened with embarrassment.

"That's not what I meant! Please forgive my rudeness," Tomas hastily clarified.

The sincerity of his reaction made an unexpected soft giggle escape your lips.

‘’That’s okay.’’

‘‘I know well what it means to get used to a foreign place. I just-‘’

“I think she understood what you meant, Tomas,” the dark-skinned man interjected. Seating himself opposite you, on the cross side, he continued, “My name is Sam, but I prefer you to say Cyrax.”

‘’Pleased to meet you,’’ you greeted politely, your gaze wandering over the three of them. ‘‘You know my name, but we haven't had the opportunity to meet formally. My name is (y/n). I will be in your care from now on.’’

‘’Glad to meet you,’’ Kuai Liang said. Sitting next to Cyrax, Tomas took the chair beside you. The seating arrangements caught your attention – Kuai Liang sat right next to the head chair, while Tomas left it empty instead of taking the same position and settled in next to you. You couldn't decipher if someone else was supposed to sit in the third seat instead of Tomas.

‘’You are my brother's wife; it would not be right for me to sit there anymore,’’ Tomas whispered, audible only to you. Your hands, resting on your lap, clenched into fists. Though sliding to one side was a simple action, you didn't want to do it, and you had good reasons. Fortunately, no one commented on this issue.

‘’I can imagine it's not easy, but this is your home now. We don't have to inherit the hostility of our ancestors. This marriage has given us an opportunity to prove this.’’

Kuai Liang looked at you with a sympathetic smile, showing that he noticed the tension. His face resembled Bi-Han's, but not entirely. Kuai Liang's expression had a warmth that could be described as calm and friendly. His dark brown eyes were sharp like Bi-Han's, yet they also held a gentle modesty. The impression at first glance was that he was not an arrogant person.

‘‘You are now a part of the Lin Kuei clan, so please feel comfortable and safe. No one can hurt you here. Our word is an oath.’’

His words calmed the chaos within you a little, but they weren't enough to dispel it entirely. Trusting was a difficult act for you, having learned through an extremely painful experience not to lean on your family. Therefore, you could only thank Kuai Liang for his words.

As breakfast was served, the atmosphere was cozy, the food surprisingly good. Even though you just met these men, there was a comfort in their company. They included you in their conversation, making you feel like you’ve always been part of their group. No one questioned or spoke harshly to you.

But it’s crucial to remember—they’re your enemies. Despite what Kuai Liang said, the real reason behind this marriage was to eliminate them. They’re seemed friendly, which shocked you. After the coldness you experienced from Bi-Han, this warm welcome was unexpected. It left you feeling a bit bewildered, struggling to believe in their friendliness. The breakfast, the conversations, all felt a bit surreal, and you couldn’t shake off the surprise, unsure of their true intentions.

As you were about to take a small sip of your steaming green tea, you caught Tomas's curious gaze watching you. According to a ninja, Tomas could betray himself easily with his expressions.

“Is there something on my face?’’ you asked. Tomas cleared his throat and averted his gaze from you.

‘’It just feels strange to see someone new at this table after so many years.’’

‘’May I hope that it is a good oddity?’’

‘’Yes, yes, of course.’’

‘’I think the part that makes it strange is that it is connected with your brother. Am I wrong?’’ you asked in a polite voice.

‘’We knew that our grandmaster was getting married soon; this was a topic that had been on the table for a long time. It surprised us all that it was with the Tengu clan,” Cyrax mentioned, crossing his muscular arms on his chest. “Obviously, we didn’t expect him to accept.”

“But this was definitely instrumental in something good,” Kuai Liang remarked. He should have been the mediator among them. You had only been with them for half an hour, but it was enough for you to understand that the man had a rather optimistic outlook. “My brother is not an easy person; he is deeply attached to his habits and clan. But I believe that time can change everything. Your marriage will be a new beginning for all of us, I feel that way.”

Your lips curled in a forced smile. Yes, there was no doubt that it would be a new beginning, but it would be instrumental in a much different cause than what Kuai Liang hoped. Grasping the porcelain cup with both hands, you looked at your image reflected in the tea.

Your eyes were determined, yet they also looked so hopeless. You had deep doubts and concerns about this task, unsure if you were strong enough to cope with it all alone. All these unknowns suffocated you, strengthening the vortex of chaos inside you.

While taking another sip of your tea, the sliding doors opened, and Bi-Han and another unknown person entered, someone you only saw out of the corner of your eye during the ceremony.

Bi-Han's eyes found you directly, and upon noticing the chair you had chosen, his brows furrowed noticeably. The atmosphere of the room instantly became heavy; there was nothing left of the cozy atmosphere just moments ago. The cold breeze emanating from Bi-Han caused you to shiver slightly despite the thick clothes you were wearing.

You were sure that he did this on purpose; it would be ridiculous to think that someone with the title of grandmaster couldn't control his powers. If he was trying to intimidate you, it was clear that he failed. However, you weren't going to take your chances either. Even if his observation of your powerlessness annoyed you, you were set on turning this situation to your advantage for the time being.

‘’You're late today.’’

‘’I was making an assessment with Sektor about the training of our newly arrived initiates,’’ said Bi-Han, responding to Kuai Liang. "They’re determined, and I am sure they will understand the order here in a short time and behave accordingly.’’

He didn't take his eyes off you when he said that. Implicitly, you understood that these words were directed at you. You continued to sip your tea quietly, ignoring his presence, as if you had never heard what he was saying.

‘’I don't think we are likely to encounter a problem as long as they are properly directed,’’ Sektor added. He, too, had sat next to Tomas, facing Cyrax. You could read on their faces that everyone was quietly questioning the idleness of the chair next to you.

‘‘How did you find the breakfast?’’

Everyone's attention turned when Bi-Han suddenly changed the subject and directed his question directly to you in a cold voice. Although you were suddenly uncomfortable with the attention being turned on you, you didn't show it. You lifted your chin slightly and looked directly into Bi-Han's eyes, who was watching you.

‘’Everything was quite delicious and carefully prepared; I can't find a word to say,’’ you continued with a kind smile and a sweet voice. "Of course, I wish my tea could stay a little warmer.’’ You said. Because of the cold breeze emitted by Bi-Han, everything that was steaming, especially the tea, lost its temperature in minutes.

Bi-Han's eyebrows furrowed a little more against your words. Now an obvious line had formed in the middle of his two eyebrows.

‘’Maybe you're not doing the right thing to keep warm.’’

"Forgive me for my words, but it is very difficult to understand what is right and what is not under these circumstances.’’

‘’Are they still talking about tea?’’ When Tomas asked Sektor his question in a whispering voice, Kuai Liang covered his face with one hand and sighed deeply.

Bi-Han's gaze was sharp enough to cut someone in half, and even though the danger signals he emitted made your entire body tremble, you maintained your posture. If Bi-Han expected respect for his boundaries, he needed to acknowledge that mutual respect was essential, understanding that you wouldn’t be compelled to obey as others in the clan did.

"Leave me alone with (y/n).’’

At his command, they got up without a word, and you caught Tomas's worried gaze as he quietly left the room. His expression made you a little nervous, but you also had no choice but to confront Bi-Han.

‘’What do you think you're doing?’’ he snarled. You maintained your innocent expression and calmness. You could tell from his demeanor that your attitude annoys him.

‘“I am drinking my tea,” you replied, lifting the cup delicately.

“Don’t play the fool with me. Do you think you can make a mockery of me in front of my clan?” Bi-Han’s voice dripped with irritation.

‘’No, of course not. I was just answering your questions.’’

Bi-Han's gaze darkened even more. While his jaw contracted angrily, the cold air he emitted started to cover the table with a thin layer of ice.

‘’When you are with the others, you will act like my wife, obey me, and keep quiet.’’

“Then I advise you not to ask me questions that you don’t want to hear answered, Grandmaster. Because I will not hesitate to answer you, do not doubt about that.’’

‘‘I'm warning you for the last time, (y/n). Do not try to confront me; the continuity of this alliance depends entirely on you. You better keep that in mind.’’

‘’I have no such intention.’’ Gripping the cup harder, you tried not to let go of your control and maintain your calm. ‘‘But remember that as long as your hostile attitude towards me continues, you will be reciprocated in the same way. If you want me to act like your wife in front of others, I have the right to be respected by you in the same way.’’

Bi-Han remained silent. As the chill in the room gradually dissipated, warmth returned, and you, too, breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension ease.

“From now on, you will sit on the chair next to me,” he declared in an authoritative tone that brooked no objections. “Our rooms are separate, but aside from that, you will stand in the position and place where you should stand as a wife.”

‘’All right. Do you have another desire?’’

"Finish your breakfast; Sektor will introduce you to the surroundings so that you don't get lost again.’’

‘‘That's very thoughtful of you, thank you.’’

Bi-Han's expression seemed to break for a moment, as if he was enjoying your answer; his lips curled with a ghostly smile. He leaned back without taking his gaze away from you.

‘‘How do you like your room?’’

‘’Good.’’ You said it honestly. ‘’It is spacious and quite comfortable.’’

‘‘Then why did you have a nightmare?’’

‘’Wouldn't it be more strange if I didn't?’’ Leaving your cup on the table, you also sat back in the same way and crossed your arms on your chest. ‘‘My husband not only dragged me out of the room like a little child, he insulted me and closed the door in my face.’’

‘‘I told you not to call me that.’’ Bi-Han warned.

An eyebrow raised defiantly at him.

‘‘I'm just stating the truth; it didn't happen any differently from what I said last night.’’

‘‘I'm not the cause of your nightmare." Bi-Han's confident tone of voice caused you to be both surprised and angry. While he didn't want to be involved in his own business, his refusal to show the same sensitivity to you to the second time was getting on your nerves now.

‘’You're afraid.’’ Said Bi-Han. You answered him back instantly.

‘’I'm not afraid of you.’’

The edge of Bi-Han's lip formed into a faint smile.

‘’I didn't say you were afraid of me. You're a brave woman; I can't take credit for that.’’

Bi-Han slowly got up from where he was sitting, sat down on the chair next to you in one fluid move, and grabbed one of the legs of the chair you were sitting on, pulling it towards him so that you could stand in a way to see him.

Your body automatically tensed up against Bi-Han being so close all of a sudden. The cool air emanating from the cryomancer was not menacing this time; you could clearly smell its clean smell on the snow outside, and the gaze locked on it made you feel like you were once again nose to nose with a snow leopard.

So that's how the prey felt when the predator made eye contact with its prey. Aggressive and cornered... It was terrible to be the focus of staring eyes to catch the slightest vulnerability; if you didn't have the confidence and pride in your abilities, you would have already got up from the chair or pointed one of the knives at Bi-Han on the table.

‘’What scares you (y/n)?’’

Bi-Han's big hands, grasping the arms of the chair which you were sitting on, further triggered the feeling of being cornered.

‘’Am I under interrogation?’’ You asked, although your voice sounded calm, the underlying tense timbre was reflected in your voice.

‘‘It depends on how you want to evaluate this situation.’’

‘’It makes me feel quite interrogative. I thought you could ask your questions effectively without the need for them. I think I should add this behavior to the list, besides being rude.’’

‘’You think I’m rude?’’

‘He couldn't really have asked that.’ You thought. A grunt, uncharacteristic of a lady, escaped your lips.

‘’I can't say you're a very kind person. Look, Grandmaster, we all have our own demons. The fact that I come from a noble family does not change this fact. I'm not going to bother changing your thoughts about me, but I'm asking you, you can get the answers to your questions without being rude to me. Showing a little humanity won't take anything away from you.’’

Bi-Han's hands were covered with blue ice that momentarily turned white, freezing the arms of the chair he held. Recovering at an impressive speed, he retreated, regaining control over his powers. As he looked at you, a thin wisp of smoke rose from his lips, and he lowered his voice to a timbre audible only to you, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"You're hard-headed."

"I have to be." You replied in the same quiet tone, causing Bi-Han to frown.

"Finish your breakfast," he said after a while. "Sektor is waiting for you."

***

In the few days spent in the Lin Kuei clan, you gradually acclimated to the surroundings and order. However, differences between their ways and those of your own clan began to stand out.

One notable distinction was the training of female assassins. While they were fewer in number compared to men, it intrigued you to see them actively participating. In your clan, women were confined to domestic roles, regarded solely for lineage continuation. They were kept behind closed doors, learning little beyond simple crafts.

Here, the situation differed. Female assassins received the same martial arts training as their male counterparts. One, in particular, caught your attention—Frost. With striking white hair and pale skin, she stood out. Possessing cryomancer powers like Bi-Han, she didn't seem to like you but maintained a respectful nod when passing by, acknowledging your status as the grandmaster's wife.

Another point of interest was the tight security within the Lin Kuei clan. Despite your discreet observations, there were no visible vulnerabilities. Watchtowers, constantly patrolling ninjas, high stone walls, and warriors trained under Bi-Han's supervision made it a formidable fortress.

Solidarity among the clan brothers was unwavering, leaving no room for discord. Conversations ceased when you approached, and you were consistently kept out of their discussions. Despite efforts to keep it secret, the fact that you shared separate rooms with Bi-Han became known. Although it bothered you, you managed to cope with it for a while.

This isolation felt unlike anything you'd experienced before. Even in your own clan, while the atmosphere wasn't vastly different, at least there was a familiar layout and recognizable faces.

Every night, your old memories resurfaced, and sleep became increasingly elusive. The weight of the mission seemed heavier than anticipated, causing nightmares to haunt you regularly.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay?"

Tomas's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see him from where you were sitting.

‘’Oh, Tomas. I didn't hear you coming. Yes, I'm fine; I'm just lost in thought. Would you like to join me a little bit?’’

As you gestured to the empty cushion next to you, Tomas joined you with a small smile.

‘’I think I have time enough for a little company.’’

‘’That's great. How are the trainings going? I heard that some of the new members are under your responsibility.’’

"It's good, they're catching on quickly, but they still have a long way to go.’’

‘’I've had the opportunity to observe your training from time to time; you seem like a pretty good teacher. I'm sure they'll get the hang of it soon.’’

In response to your friendly compliment, Tomas's eyes sparkled with happiness, and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Among the brothers, Tomas was the easiest to decipher; you felt comfortable around him. Maybe it was because he was younger and more naive compared to others; there was a part of him that genuinely listened to what you were saying rather than analyzing you. That made it easier for you to get along with him.

‘’Thank you; it made me happy to hear all this. Have you gotten used to it here? I hope Bi-Han isn't causing you too much difficulty.’’

‘’I guess I'm getting used to it’.’ You said it in a low voice. After the conversation in the dining room a few days ago, Bi-Han's stern attitude hadn't changed, but you could notice that he was paying attention to the way he spoke a little. On the other hand, his gaze was still on you, analyzing you, his attitude was distant and cold. There has been no change in this regard.

When things were like this, you didn't know how to bound him to yourself; as your brother advised, it was the same as asking for the impossible.

‘‘I am glad to hear that. It seems difficult at first, but time somehow allows you to get used to it.’’

‘‘Tomas, I don't want you to misunderstand me, and please forgive me if I'm out of line. I heard something, you-‘’

Tomas stated, his typically expressive face now unreadable, sending a wave of unease through you.

“I’m sorry, I crossed the line,” you quickly apologized, sensing the sensitivity of the topic.

‘’No, no, no." Tomas shook his head from side to side and gave you a little smile that suppressed a lot of pain. ‘‘This incident happened many years ago. It's true that I'm not related to them by blood, but despite that, I wasn't raised any different from Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. Their family became my family too, they were always warm and understanding towards me. Time has allowed me to get used to both them and here. Of course, it wasn't as easy as I said.’’

‘’Considering where I come from, I don't know how good or convincing it will be for you to hear this from me, but I'm sorry for your loss.’’ You said with a bitter smile.

"Thank you, and you must stop thinking that way. You are not our enemy (y/n). Also, I always find it more correct to judge the person alone.’’

Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to understand what he is saying. As you pulled your knees to yourself, you gave Tomas a curious look.

‘‘How so?’’

‘’We can’t judge everyone the same way. Yes, it is true that you are part of the Tengu Clan, but you are a single individual. You have your own truths, wrongs, beliefs, and desires. At some point, you’re doing what your clan orders you to do, but that doesn’t mean you think the same as them. People are complex, (y/n). Life shapes us differently, and our experiences carve unique paths. Your actions might be guided by duty, but your thoughts and feelings are your own. That’s why I believe that everyone should be evaluated alone. This is the fair one for me.”

Tomas' words struck a chord in your heart that you never anticipated, a deep impact that sent unexpected ripples through your emotions. In an instant, tears welled up in your eyes, tracing a delicate path down your cheeks, catching you off guard. A surprised yet heartfelt smile played on your lips as the weight of Tomas's understanding resonated deeply within you.

Tomas, on the other hand, tried to calm you down, not knowing what to do with a horrified expression.

‘‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.’’

’’No," another wet chuckle spilled from your lips. ‘’Your words touched me, that's all. I'm fine, honestly, I wasn't expecting to cry either.’’

You've never seen such an approach in your clan, and the olive branch Tomas extended made you feel good, as well as unfamiliar. You wanted to be angry with yourself for being so easily impressed, but you couldn't, your cheeks were flushed with shame that you were so hungry for a few kind words. You wiped the tears from your cheeks while your heart ached with a heat that you couldn't help.

Was it really as easy as Tomas said?

At that time, a woman came to you with a tea tray in her hand, and the moment she realized that you werecrying, she hurriedly left what she had on the coffee table in the middle and handed you the handkerchief she took out of her pocket.

‘‘Here, use this, please.’’

Taking the handkerchief, you wiped your tears quickly. When you saw that the concern in Tomas' gaze didn't subside a bit, you smiled and patted his arm.

‘’I'm really fine, Tomas, you have a good and pure heart. That’s very rare so protect it, okay?’’

‘’You're forgetting that I'm a ninja.’’ Tomas said, returning to his relaxed attitude just now.

‘’But I know that you are serving a good and honorable purpose. You're protecting Earthrealm on behalf of Lord Liu Kang, isn't that right?’’

When Tomas' cheeks turned pink once again and he signaled his approval, your smile widened. Just then, the woman cleared her throat, recapturing your attention. With a gentle smile, she poured tea into a cup and extended it to you, offering it for you to take.

“I made ginger tea for you. It’s good for the cold weather,” the woman said. Despite looking strong and young, her voice hinted at a bit of age. “It’ll soothe you and make you feel better. The ginger has healing properties, a little something to fight the chill and keep you warm.”

‘’Oh, thank you, that's very thoughtful of you.’’

You took the cup between your hands with the happiness of the unexpected gesture. The warmth instantly spread from your fingertips to your hand, warming you up against the cool air.

‘’Would you like me to bring a cup for you too?’’ She said, turning her question to Tomas.

‘’No need, I have to go back to training soon. Maybe later.’’

After the woman offered both of you a polite smile for the last time, she withdrew to leave the two of you alone again. As the pungent smell of ginger spread around, you brought it closer to your lips to take a sip from the cup.

At that time, you caught a glimpse of Bi-Han out of the corner of your eye; he was coming towards your place from the middle of the garden covered with white snow. Since the day you arrived, his gaze, which he has always kept locked on you, found you directly; you were starting to get used to this habit a little. And you responded to him, sipping ginger tea while watching him approach.

The taste burned your throat because the tea was brewed a little too much, but because the heat warmed you up, you ignored the bitter taste and continued to drink in small sips.

‘’Is it nice? I probably don't like ginger tea very much; it reminds me of when I was sick.’’

Tomas' words made you giggle.

‘’I'd say it's drinkable. Besides, a little warmth from ginger won’t hurt.”

“Well, as long as it’s not medicinal.” Tomas said with a grin. As you continued sipping your tea, Bi-Han’s shadow loomed over the two of you, casting a momentary hush. In the quiet pause, the weight of his presence filled the air, and you sensed his usual commanding aura.

‘’Is everything all right?’’ asked Tomas.

"Cyrax needs to go on a mission; you will take over the group he is training for a few days.’’

Tomas shrugged.

‘’Of course, that's all right. Did you come all the way here just to tell me that? You could tell me this at dinner.’’

Bi-Han opened his mouth to answer, which you unintentionally interrupted with your unexpected cough. The cough came out so hard that your throat hurt as if it had been torn out.

Unable to understand what was happening, you dropped the cup you were holding and began desperately rubbing your neck, as if you could take away the pain that was scorching your throat.

‘‘(y/n)?’’ Bi-Han kneeled down in front of you with frowning brows, carefully looking you up and down, trying to figure out what your problem was. When his dark brown eyes were turned to yours again, his gaze hardened as he caught the desperate expression on your face.

‘‘What's the matter?’’

‘’I don't know.’’ The panic in your voice was audible. When you started coughing again, your coughs turned into a crisis and prevented you from breathing. Tomas' anxious voice filled your ears.

‘’She's choking.’’

‘’Shit.’’

Bi-Han’s grip on your arms was vice-like as he swiftly maneuvered you onto your side, averting the risk of drowning in your own saliva. A tidal wave of excruciating pain surged through your body, each convulsive cough accompanied by a guttural groan that fought its way out despite your efforts. The world around you blurred into a nightmarish haze, and an overwhelming sense of panic and fear tightened its grip on your heart.

As the cough increased in intensity, your mouth filled with a metallic taste.

Blood.

‘’Tea! There is poison in the tea!’’

Tomas's voice echoed in your ears. The pain strengthened in waves, increasing its effect on you. It was different from the pain when your throat was cut, you felt like your internal organs were liquefying, and you almost lost consciousness because of this terrible pain.

Your whole body was almost on fire; you were so hot that you thought your skin was melting, and it hurt so much that you were ready to sacrifice everything to make it end.

When you were struggling to survive, you felt like you were touched by something cool. The pain had not disappeared, but the coldness that touched your skin had taken you away from the scorching fire, even a little.

You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to figure out what happened. As the power gradually left your body, you were rapidly weakening in your perceptions.

When you managed to pick out Bi-Han's face, you realized that you were on his lap. Your head was against his chest, and you must have coughed a few more times because the front of his clothes was stained with your blood. When you realized this, you muttered something like ‘‘I'm sorry’’ with your numb lips.

‘’Don't talk,’’ Bi-Han commanded with stern authority. ‘’Don't you dare close your eyes.’’

Writhing in his lap, each groan echoed the inferno within. Blood seeped from the corners of your lips, internal organs ablaze. A feeble utterance managed to escape, ‘‘It hurts.’’ You doubted how much longer you could endure. Keeping your eyelids open felt like an unbearable burden, as if tons of weight pressed upon them, leaving you only able to moan, cry, and squirm.

‘'I know.'’

‘I don't want to die,’ you thought. Facing death for the second time, you understood the feeling, yet you resisted, unprepared to depart. You fought against the engulfing darkness, a powerless struggle in the face of excruciating torment. How much longer could you endure? You didn’t know the answer.

Bi-Han shook you urgently, ‘’Keep your eyes open,’’ he growled. His movement made you moan for a long time like a wounded animal. Would this pain never end? Hot tears or blood? It flowed under the eyelids that you don't know when you closed them.

‘‘You're not going to die, do you hear me? You won't die.’’

Even though you heard Bi-Han's words, all you felt was the darkness engulfing you and the nothingness that came with it.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Hold on, reader-san! Everything will be…okay…I hope.🥲

P.S: I barely had time to edit this, if you notice any errors, please let me know!

P.S 2 : I also learned that Cyrax’s real name is Felix Sam Kaweeson and Sektor’s name is Li Hog Jing.

[souperbloom]

hey, i had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. she originally wrote 'english love affair' and it gets chosen on the dice while on tour, and ash gets jealous about her performing it coz she wrote it about someone else so he gets moody - mostly angsty, but kinda smutty towards the end?

the face i made when i first read this, omg. friend, you are a GENUIS. YES.

enjoy, you little genius. <3

————————

my english love affair [A.I.]

🎲 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after rolling the dice and performing a song about a girl you used to see, Ashton gets jealous over the fact that he’s not the one you’re singing about.

a/n: the boys have nicknamed you ‘peanut’. no reason, just thought it was cute and have been dying to use it :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: angst, tension, angry Ash, ref. to past hookups, strong language, ref. to weed, teasing (sexually & literally).

WORDCOUNT: ~3.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Thank you, London! Goodnight!"

You watch with wide eyes as your frontman, Luke, blows kisses into the arena, at fans that had been reaching out to the stage since the moment the curtain fell.

A rush of adrenaline washes over you, faced with yet another insanely energetic crowd that had poured nothing less than their hearts out to you.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," You mouth out to them, your hands clasped over your chest in pure adoration.

Above all the screaming, a thunderous drum rollout plays you off; the familiar, rhythmic tapping sounding off like sirens in your head.

It extends for a few minutes longer than normal, as your bandmates throw gifts into the crowd.

You can’t help but look behind you at the drum kit, something you always find yourself doing no matter when or why. For your lover is the one behind those tubs; the one providing you with one of the most wicked bow outs of the century.

Your eyes quickly find the flurry of sweaty curls and drumsticks, anticipating his cymbal crashes as you’d learned them like the back of your hand.

As he destroys the final beats, his eyes glance up to you; a frantic, rage-fueled expression adorning his face with the final cracks at his cymbals.

The crowd grows louder, catching your attention— you take your eyes off of him for a moment, as the rest of the boys start to huddle around you.

"You fuckin’ killed it tonight, Peanut." A broad hand grips your shoulder, Michael ducking down to whisper in your ear beyond your ear piece.

"You too, Mikey."

Another hand wraps your back, Luke coming up to your side to give you a gentle squeeze.

As moments pass by, you and the rest of your bandmates get in order for the final bow. With Michael on your right and Luke on your left, you lean forward to watch Calum join the line.

Your brows then furrow when you notice a certain somebody taking a few extra minutes to toss his drumsticks into the crowd.

"What’s up with him?" Luke leans into the side of your face, gesturing towards your boyfriend with his eyes.

All you could do is shrug, before plastering a smile on your face and speaking through your teeth.

"Who the fuck knows."

Ashton seemed off, to say the least. You weren’t quite sure where his head was at since the second Luke sent that damn dice into the crowd. But the most you could do in this moment was grin, filled with overwhelming happiness at the reception of this incredible crowd.

"He’s coming," Luke mumbles, before switching whatever monotone face he had on into a smile.

"Finally."

You watch as Ashton joins the line, trying to sneak a glance at him over Luke and Calum’s bodies.

But he doesn’t even look up. His lips were painted into a straight line as Calum bends down to initiate your bow out.

You thought to yourself, as your bodies bent down to face the floor:

Whatever the fuck’s gotten into him better have a damn good explanation.

After the final bow to close another sold out show, you and the rest of the boys had made your way offstage.

Being the only girl in the band had its perks— you got your very own dressing room 90% of the time, one decked out with all of your favorite fixings and beverages.

But the best perk of all, was that the afterparties always happened in the boys’ room.

"What a fuckin’ show!" Calum pumps his fist triumphantly, as he is the first to lead you all into the room. He jumps up, smacking the top of the doorframe with his palms and letting out a hoot.

The rest of you funnel in, filled to the brim with adrenaline and post-show excitement.

"God, I know— The energy… fuckin’ electric, man…" Michael still seems in awe of it all, with unkempt pink locks that had been disturbed by him tossing off snapback.

"I feel like I could run a goddamn mile," Luke blurts, jogging in place.

You and Ashton are the last two to enter the room, Ashton still having barely spoken a word to you, or anyone else, since in your fifteen minutes of being off stage.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Calum asks, while Michael and Luke make their way to the couch.

"I’ll take a coke," you shrug, trying to ignore the elephant in the room that just so happens to be your brooding boyfriend.

"Really, Peanut? After a show like that, you’re settling for a can of coke? How about we put some Jack in that bitch and call it even?" Michael looks at you with teasing eyes as you wait for Ashton to find his seat.

Post-show parties and conversations were a ritual for you as a band— each of you needing your own times in the spotlight to debrief, and let off steam.

These gatherings you shared were like a perfectly thought-out routine. Mike and Luke sit down on their couch, Cal grabs the refreshments, and you make your way to your assigned seat on Ashton’s lap. Sometimes, Ashton would roll up a spliff for the four of you to share, especially if the show was one like tonight’s.

But Ashton lingering on his phone in the doorframe was never part of this routine. You didn’t like it one bit.

Michael, Calum, and Luke begin to talk amongst themselves, leaving you standing and watching your beau with worried eyes. His knuckles were practically going white as he anxiously ticked, mindlessly clawing at the pocket of his dress pants.

A snapping sound grabs your attention from across the room.

"Hey, lovebirds— the fuck’s up with you guys?" Luke quizzes, his brow quirked as Calum hands him a can of spiked seltzer.

You shake your head, "Fuck if I know."

Your words make Ashton’s head snap up from his phone; sending a bothered glance in your direction. But you just ignore it. You didn’t want to risk ruining a perfect night over some trivial bullshit.

"Well? Gonna’ take a seat, Ash? That chair’s got you and Y/N’s names all over it."

You stifle a giggle at Michael’s reference to you and Ashton’s routine, your eyes bouncing back and forth between your pink haired friend and your unamused boyfriend.

"C’mon baby, sit down," you coo, walking over to the brown leather arm chair that has been deemed your throne, "Let off some steam."

Ashton lets out a huff, causing the general chatter of the room to grow quiet. The rest of you watch in solace as Ashton shoves his phone in pocket, and walks towards you.

He brushes past your shoulder coldly, before sitting down with a loud sigh.

"Dude. What’s going on with you?— Lighten the hell up."

Calum’s jab only earns a nasty look from Ashton, but you just remain still, standing above him while he leans back comfortably in his arm chair.

There’s an awkward silence surrounding you all, before Ashton’s fingers start rhythmically tapping on his thigh.

"Well? I’m sitting," he says dryly, the first words he’d spoken in a while, "Happy now?"

Luke and Michael toss each other a look, before Calum walks over to you with your drink.

"I’d be happier if you put a smile on that face," Calum says, leaning down to be parallel with Ashton’s steely expression. You try your hardest to remain stern, putting your poker face on lockdown.

As much as you hated to see your boyfriend so solemn and serious, you found it a bit amusing.

Ashton was one of the least serious people you had ever come across, which is one of the reasons why you worked so well as a couple.

He’d tell jokes, you’d laugh, then fire one right back at him. It was just one of those indescribable instances that made the two of you perfect for each other.

But seeing him so stone-cold, so inexpressible, you were sure it was some sort of joke.

You test your luck, shuffling between his legs and fluttering down into his lap. Usually, his hands would instantly grab ahold of your waist, before chatting up a storm. But instead of that, his hands completely dodged your body, folding them into his lap with his elbow resting on your thigh.

"Should I play music? Not gonna lie, I fuckin’ hate the vibes in this room right now…" Michael breaks the tense, ongoing silence.

"Oooh, can you play some Zeppelin?" Luke requests.

"Queue up some ‘Sabbath while you’re at it," says Calum.

As the other boys bicker about what songs to play, you’re left staring down at your lover. His blank expression had yet to dwindle, and you were certain that if you had stood in front of him, he’d be able to shoot daggers into your back with his stare alone.

"What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" You ask the question quietly, ducking down into his ear. Your hand travels up to toy with the baby curls that sat at the nape of his neck, which he normally goes crazy for.

But even with you asking, he didn’t move a muscle.

"Okay," you shrug, helpless, "fine. Don’t say anything then."

A pinprick tugs at your heartstrings upon Ashton’s refusal to speak. But you try to push that worrisome feeling down with the rest of your intrusive thoughts, hoping to focus solely on having a good time.

Dazed and Confused by Led Zeppelin starts to roll through the speakers behind the ambiance of conversation, with Calum and Luke now aiming the discussion towards the show.

"Can we just talk about how Luke’s fly was down the entire time? Like, from curtain fall—"

"Fuck you mate," Luke defends, the heated little argument grabbing your attention, "I swear I pulled it up! Must’ve fallen down— ‘er something…"

"It’s true, I saw him do it," You interject, raising your drink in the air.

"Okay, but how did it manage to fall down by the second song of the set? That’s gotta be a record or something… is anybody keeping track?"

Michael practically spits out his drink at Calum’s observation.

"Oh, ha ha, veeery funny. Let’s all laugh at the amount of times Luke has gone out on stage with his fly down… I swear, it’s like Peanut is the only one who actually gives a shit about me." Luke leans back into the couch, looking down at his fly before taking a sip of his own drink.

"Speakin’ of Peanut… dude, what the actual fuck was that?!" Michael shoots up from his seat excitedly, his eyes going glossy at you.

"What was what?" you ask.

"English Love Affair? You haven’t performed it in a while. Not like the way you did tonight, at least. How’d it fuckin’ feel?"

"Singin’ about your mistress in her hometown must’ve been a real culture shock, huh." Calum mumbles.

You can’t help but laugh, "It wasn’t that extraordinary… But, I’ll admit, it’s a damn good song. I did write it for that reason—"

"Don’t be so humble, Y/N." Luke jokes.

As you and the rest of the band go back and forth, you notice Ashton’s leg out of the corner of your eye. It had started feverishly bobbing up and down, with him still not speaking a word throughout this entire conversation.

"The crowd was eating it up, too— you were like a fuckin’ machine out there."

Your cheeks flush pink at Michael’s compliment, "You don’t mean that."

"Oh, but I do. God, I can’t even describe it… When you sing that song it’s like you get possessed ‘er some shit."

Calum snorts, "Yeah, possessed by some good pussy."

That comment seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, for Ashton is suddenly shooting upward in his seat, sending you flying with him.

Your head whips to face him, his cheeks glowing red hot. He only utters four words, before guiding you off of his lap and standing up himself.

"I need a fuckin’ smoke."

The lot of you watch in shock as Ashton angrily barrels out of the room, slamming open the door and making it hit the wall with a loud crash. You all jump, before passing each other confused, worried glances.

"What— what the fuck was that?"

You let out an angry huff, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Luke only chuckles, before tossing his hands in the air.

"Well, Y/N— looks like it’s time for you to do your thing. Go tame that raging bull."

Your eyes land at least once on all of the boys, each of them giving you a ‘you probably should go out there and get him’ type of look.

"Why does it always have to be me?" You sigh, but Michael sucks his teeth.

"I think you already know the answer to that one, Peanut."

After the boys had shooed you out of the dressing room, you set off down the halls to look for Ashton. You checked every corner, every bathroom, every area with a chair to sit and ponder in; but the angry mess of a dirty blonde mullet and dress pants was nowhere to be found.

You contemplated giving up after circling the same hallway for a third time, your legs feeling like wet noodles as you trudged along the dimly lit corridors—

But you then felt your shoulders relax when you noticed a rock propping open the outside door.

"Ashton?" You call out, pushing the steel-clad door just enough for you to pop your head outside.

And sure enough, there he was.

"Ash," you say again, a bit louder this time, stepping over the rock timidly and snaking your way through the gap.

He was leaned against a lamppost that lit up the parking lot, with tense shoulders and his brow furrowed. He stared off into the abyss, taking a pull from his joint.

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells, trying your hardest not to go into panic mode and start screaming your own head off.

Or, apologizing profusely for something that you may or may not have done.

"Baby?" you try your hand at sweetly grabbing his attention, one last time.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine."

He ashes his joint, before taking another pull, the veins in his neck practically popping through his skin. You take a step closer, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you sure?"

He blows out smoke through the side of his lips, "Yes."

"Don’t lie to me. You’ve been acting like such a brat all night," You warn him, finding the stern, coldness in your voice, similar to the one he’s been firing off at you and the guys since he stepped off stage.

There’s a brief moment of tension in the air, lingering lowly above your head. You hold your breath for a moment, before Ashton is tapping his joint with his eyes glued to his shoes.

He hadn’t looked up at you. At least, not yet.

"If you don’t want me acting like a brat, then don’t call me a fucking liar." He mumbles to the ground, an angry baritone rumbling through his voice.

"I didn’t call you a liar. I just said, don’t lie…" you drop your hands to your side, taking another step towards him.

"…Now tell me what’s wrong with you before I smack that joint right out of your fuckin’ hand."

Your threat brings Ashton to lock eyes with you. You’re finally able to get a good look at the angry crimson hue that surrounded him; with shaky pupils and a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You really wanna know what’s wrong with me, Peanut?" He mocks the endearing nickname like poison rolling off of his tongue.

"Well, I—" You stutter, taken aback by his serious tone. He then chuckles dryly, lifting the joint and resting his hand on his chin.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

"Obviously not, asshole." You hated to sound so brash, but you were still residually upset by his ignorance.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Only to say the stupidest thing you had ever heard in your life.

"You think I enjoyed watching you parade around onstage tonight— all smiley and giggly— singing about some girl you fucked one time? A time so memorable that you went off and wrote a goddamn rock ballad about?!"

Your eyes widen in dismay.

The rumors were true, you thought, Ashton had finally lost it.

"Oh my god— you’re joking… You’re joking, aren’t you?" Your face melts into pure, sadistic amusement. But Ashton’s face hadn’t faltered.

"Do I look like I’m joking?" He ask the question seriously.

"You cannot be serious, Ash. You’re telling me that you’ve been moping around all night because of a fucking song I wrote eight years ago?! Meanwhile you were the one who suggested putting it on the fuckin’ dice!"

He finally finishes his joint, flicking the roach to the ground and stomping it out with the toe of his boot.

"If I had known you’d perform it like she was actually there on that stage fucking you, I probably wouldn’t have suggested it at all."

A shaky chuckle flies past your lips. "God, you are such a baby! I cannot believe that you’d stomp around and make such a fuss over this! You’re really serious right now, Ash? Like, really?"

"As serious as a goddamn heart attack, Y/N."

The only emotion you could process at the moment was anger. You were completely baffled by his behavior, unable to muster up even a sentence that would aid in your argument.

"…What’s mine is mine, baby. It’s as simple as that. Can’t blame me for gettin’ a little jealous sometimes." His tone of voice had softened, significantly.

Knowing him well enough by now, after almost four years together, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hold a grudge.

And, of course, you were right. As always.

"Ash, it’s been eight years. You’re gonna have to get over it eventually."

"Well— what if I don’t want to get over it?" He blurts, still stern.

Before you reply, you step even closer to him. Close enough to feel the sizzling hot anger radiating off of the both of your bodies and creating a spark between them.

You hated when he was angry. He hated when you were angry.

But something about that anger made your stomach twist in knots. In the best possible way.

You decided to test your luck. To push his buttons. Get under his skin, a bit.

"Then I’d say you’re being a brat. A whiny, fucking brat."

Ashton chuckles, rather dryly, before lifting himself from his slouched position resting on the lamppost. He towers over you, straightening his posture to show off his much larger frame.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart."

You could sense the obvious switch in dynamic of this situation. Now clouded with sexual frustration, as opposed to just the regular kind of frustration.

You cross your arms over your chest, swallowing back the newly formed lump in your throat. "You don’t scare me, y’know."

All he does is shrug.

"Don’t think I need to scare ya’ to make you scream. Thought we’ve been over this."

That comment only riled you up more, but you tried to hide it beneath a playful glare, "Is that a threat, Ashton?"

"No no no, baby— not at all…"

He shakes his head, slight sarcasm falling over his tone before he’s snaking his arms around your waist, digging the tips of his fingers into your back.

"…It’s a fuckin’ promise."

The speed in which his lips found yours seemed almost impossible. From the way he had gone from blatantly ignoring your existence, to feeling you up like you were the last thing he’d ever touch.

"You’re mine. Y’know that, right?" He presses you against his torso, clasping his broad hands at the small of your back.

"Mmmmhmm," You sigh into his kiss, as he roughly sinks his teeth into your bottom lip.

He then takes one of your thighs in a handful, lifting it up to rest it gently on his hip.

In the midst of the commotion, you realize that you were still dressed completely in your stage clothes. Clad in an oversized, striped sweater that was stolen right from Michael’s closet, and a short black tennis skirt.

You were fully aware of just how short your skirt was. And to be totally honest with yourself, you loved wearing it.

You loved the way it floated around you as you danced, the way it complimented your platform boots and knee high socks…

But you also loved the absolute chokehold it had on your boyfriend.

You catch your breath as Ashton pulls away from your heated kiss; only for a moment. To admire you, as his hand slowly snakes its’ way up your skirt to grip your bare asscheek.

"This ass," he grunts, digging his fingers into your flesh, "is mine."

"Mhm." You nod again. Affirmative. Your bottom lip was still trapped between your teeth with helpless, puppy dog eyes.

"This face?" He removes his other hand from your back to cup your cheek, "This gorgeous gorgeous face? Is mine. All fuckin’ mine. Ya’ hear me?"

You nod at him, trying to ignore his hand creeping towards the hemline of your panties.

"Need ‘ya to use those words, beautiful. Like the ones you used to write your song, yeah?"

One thing about Ashton was that he never failed to piss you off— but he was also damn good at turning you on.

"…Wanna hear one last bit of your poetry before the only word you’re able to say is my fuckin’ name."

"Ash—" You go to speak, but your mouth clamps shut as he traces your inner thigh with his fingertips.

"Go ahead, Y/N, tell me. Tell me who’s really ‘all you ever think about.’"

His head dips down to your neck to leave a trail of wet kisses, all the way to the base of your collarbone. Your hand finds his hair, tugging at the roots gently with each gentle kiss.

"You. You’re all I ever think about… All I’ve ever wanted—"

Your breath hitches as his teeth bite into your skin, his hand finding its way back to the outside of your thigh to anchor your body against him.

"—All I’ve ever needed."

In a swift motion, Ashton is dropping your leg from his hip, bringing you to teeter on your shaky legs and look at him with desperate eyes.

His head pops up from your neck, pupils wavering and twinkling with lust.

And suddenly, your mind is clouded. All of the things you’ve ever needed in a person was right at your fingertips. Any syllable of a song lyric, any chorus of every single song you’ve ever written.

It was him.

"You wanna’ write songs about getting fucked ‘till you can’t speak, sweetheart?"

At this point, you were too needy to care about whatever words flew past your lips. "Yes, Ashton. Please—"

His eyes darken, a sultry smile climbing across his cheeks for the first time all night.

"Allow me to provide you with some inspiration, then."

In a second, he’s lifting you up by the back of your legs, tossing your body effortlessly over his shoulder. You let out a laugh, slapping his back, his arms, anything you could get your hands on.

"Hey! What the fuck—"

Your ass is fully exposed to the parking lot around you, as Ashton begins to walk. You couldn’t see much, but the most you knew was the direction of your shared tour bus.

He leans his head over to you, whispering a little something in your ear that sent chills down your spine.

"You wanna make music with me, baby? I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ write about…"

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[muffinpink02]

Bronze Is Better Then Gold part 2

Warning - smutty bits, not smut, angst, fluff

Two hours had passed, and Ona was reading her book in bed, when her phone went off.

Lucy - Don’t think I forgot about our bet! Loser buys lunch, chips and curry sauce is needed for a seconds visit. 😏 xx 

Ona laughed out loud, dipping her head back in her pillow.

Ona - don’t worry I haven’t forgotten, it will be nice having my lunch bought for me 🤤

Lucy - I can’t wait xx 

Ona - me neither, you’re going down xx

Both girls had the exact same thought with Ona’s last text of the night.

Lucy imagined what it would be like to have her head dipping in between Ona’s legs. She wondered what she tasted like, what her moans sounded like. She wondered if she would teased her, would she beg for it. How her brown eyes would look down at her as she pleasured her to no end.

Ona also imagined Lucy’s head bopping up and down in between her legs. She wondered if she moaned when she was down there, or if she used her tongue to fuck. She could see Lucy’s green eyes looking up at her as she rode her face. She wondered if Lucy liked her hair being pulled, if she liked it be spoken to while she ate her out.

Both girls using that exact same thought of Lucy going down to ‘relax’ just a little bit more for the evening.

—————————

The next morning Ona quickly made her way to the coffee shop on the corner of her road, grabbing an oat milk latte for Lucy and a cappuccino for herself.

She got back with five minutes to spare but of course Lucy was already there. She got in the passenger seat, holding up the coffees.

“Good morning. I got you some coffee.” She handed it over to a very tired looking Lucy.

“I needed this so badly, I normally have my canister but I forgot it. Thank you. An actual life saver.”

Her smile was of pure joy, Ona couldn’t have seen a cuter smile.

“You’re welcome.”

“Your ready for today?” Lucy pulled off, taking a sip of the coffee, humming from the taste.

“Yes, I’m excited.”

“I’m glad one of us is.”

——————

Everyone was in there places. All the teams were ready and waiting for Lucy’s call.

Lucy loved and hated this part of the job. It was a complete adrenaline rush. Nothing compared to it. She had planned this for two months, she felt ready. Everything was in place. But no matter how much you planned it could go many ways.

She could get her guys, take them to police custody and have enough evidence to put them in prison. That was what everyone hoped for. Or she could get them and not have enough evidence and they end up back on the street.

Or it could go completely wrong and one of her colleagues or herself could get seriously hurt. That was the one that scared her the most. Sadly she had already been down that route before.

Lucy took a deep breath, she lifted the radio up to her lips.

“Have ram ready for entry. Fire arm officers be ready to enter property.”

She watched as her team moved closer to the property.

Jill then came in over the phone.

“Ready and waiting.”

“Team proceed.”

Over a couple streets away Ona was in the under cover car with Jordan, both waiting for any kind of signal. They could hear Lucy giving orders to the rest of the team.

The door was knocked down easily. Jill and her team entered the property.

They quickly entered each room on the bottom floor, finding nobody.

“Talk to me Scott.” Lucy said.

“Bottom floor is clear.”

Lucy bit her lip.

Jill and her team made their way upstairs. They entered each room, but still nothing. Until they got to the last room on the left, finding two men trying to hide in the wardrobe.

“Come out! Hands up! Get on the floor.”

The men got on the floor. An officer quickly handcuffing both of them.

“We have two males in the property.”

“Is it them Scott?”

Just as Lucy asked she noticed movement at the corner of her eye, she looked to her left. She saw two men turning a corner from the street. She knew who they were straight away. As soon as they saw the police they ran.

“Fuck!” Lucy shouted.

“Suspects on foot! I need all officers on foot, now!.”

Lucy ran towards the men, she could hear her team right behind her.

She watched as the men split up, the smaller man of the two jumped over a wall into a garden, the other heading down a street.

“Suspects have split, I need all officers heading south towards Elm Street, and North street.”

Ona and Jordan looked at each other, Jordan ready for Ona’s instructions.

Lucy didn’t stop running, she couldn’t see either of the men anymore but she didn’t give up. She jumped the wall same at the man did. She watched as he ran towards a field, losing sight of him instantly as he entered the forest.

“I need any nearby vehicles, I have a suspect in the forest.” Lucy spoke into the phone.

“I have vehicles heading towards that area now.” Alex came in over the radio.

Ona had studied the maps, she knew there was no other way to go when coming down North street you had to get to the other end to leave it.

They spotted Bigz, Ona knew it was him straight away. She had studied both of the brother’s faces when Lucy had gone through the history of their crimes. He was a at least ten houses down from them, he hadn’t spotted them.

He was a giant of a man, standing easily over 6ft. He was running at full force down the street, he was on Ona’s side of the car.

“Get down.” Ona whispered.

They both ducked in their seats, Ona had her hand on the door handle. She could hear his feet hitting the pavement hard, she waited for the perfect time.

Bang.

Ona opened the car door, slamming it right into Bigz, he flew off his feet. The man was on the floor rolling around, groaning. Ona jumped out, her gun in her hands aiming at him.

“Stay down, put your hands out. Don’t move.”

Jordan was up and ready handcuffing the man.

“I have suspect Bigz detained.” Ona spoke into the radio.

Lucy felt a sense of relief, it may not have been exactly what she wanted but she at least had one of her guys.

——————-

“Well done Battle. I heard you knocked the guy out.” Demi laughed.

“Ohh no, it wasn’t anything special, it was right place at the right time.” Ona said.

“No, come on, you’re being too modest.” Jill chuckled.

“No really guys. Jordan will agree.”

“Na, you was unreal. I didn’t even realise what you were doing. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Ona rolled her eyes smiling. “Guys come on.”

“I wish I could have seen it.” Lucy smiled brightly.

All the girls hummed in agreement.

“Ahh it was so cool! I was fan girling all the way back to the office.” Jordan exclaimed.

Ona laughed. “She was fan girling. I thought I was going to have to sign an autograph for her.” She winked at Jordan in jest.

The kitchen erupted in a fit of laughs, Ona chuckled. She could feel those green eyes on her, she looked over at Lucy, who this time didn’t try and hide the fact that she was staring. She stared until Ona felt her skin prickle, making her look away.

————

It was three weeks in since Ona joined the team. She had settled in amazingly, the team were great, they were friendly and helpful. Her manager was supportive, and reasonable. But if she was to be honest the best part of her job was down to a certain brunette.

The girls had gotten significantly closer. It had become a habit where each day Lucy would pick Ona up in the morning and drop her home after work.

And the closer they got the more flirty they got.

So far, it was the only time they got to be alone, and every time they got in Lucy’s car the atmosphere became more sparked. The girls had an easy, flirtatious banter between them and being alone in the car only heightened the tension.

But that also peaked through at work. There was a natural pull between them, an invisible thread that made the girls gravitate towards each other. The want was getting more obvious, especially when Ona would see Lucy hot and sweaty on her lunch break when she had clearly been working out in the buildings gym.

Jordan and the others would constantly ask if anything was going on, but there wasn’t, they had only flirted. No kissing, no touching, they clearly wanted each other but nobody was making the first move.

——————-

“Ready Battle?” Lucy smiled as they entered the changing rooms.

“Yep. Ready to win.” Ona smiled mischievously.

“Ohh I can hear fighting talk.” Jordan laughed.

Today was the combat team training day. It was a requirement the team had to do once a month. It was to insure they had the skills and knew what to do if ever having hand to hand combat.

“Yeah. Ona thinks she can take me on.” Lucy laughed.

“I think she could.” Jordan said it like it wasn’t even a question.

Oma smiled to herself.

“No one on the team has been able to beat me. Why would Ona?” She smiled cheekily at Ona.

“So we’re betting?” Demi then joined in.

“We’ve got a bet on.” Ona smirked. “Loser buys lunch.”

“For everyone?” Jordan got excited.

“No.” Lucy said quickly.

“Oh? Is someone scared? You sound nervous to have to buy lunch for everyone.”

Ona laughed, with the other girls joining in.

But her laughing stopped when Lucy removed her shirt, she wasn’t ready for the  eye watering six pack that was underneath. Ona knew Lucy went gym, she knew Lucy was fit. But she had only ever seen the girl in shirts and trousers.

Lucy saw the change in Ona’s face, she saw where her brown eyes were looking. So in true Lucy style, she firmed her stomach as she removed the rest of her shirt, revealing her muscular arms.

Ona didn’t realise it but she was staring, she couldn’t help it, Lucy was something to stare at, her body was incredible. She could feel her body reacting to the site in form of her. It wasn’t until Lucy cleared her throat that Ona looked up, her green eyes looking at her playfully. Ona darted her eyes away quickly, finding a spot on the wall a lot more interesting.

But Lucy didn’t miss Ona’s physique either, the girl had her own six pack, her body was strong and petite, her milky skin looked edible. Lucy wondered what it would be like to run her tongue all over her skin. She felt her mouth began to salivate. She had to find her own spot on the wall to concentrate on.

The group walked out into the gym, ready for their training.

“Hiya you lot, I hope we’re ready for some combat today. Oh, hello, you’re new.” The Scottish women smiled at Ona.

The tall brunette woman looked over at Ona.

“Hi, I’m Ona.”

“Oh you’re Ona? I’ve heard about you, I heard about the guy you took down. Good on you. I’m Jen by the way.”

She smiled at Ona, making the shorter girl blush. Lucy couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

“Okay you know the drill, get in to pairs, we’ll go over the moves, then I want you to try and get your partner on the floor, have them down for a least ten seconds. Can I get a volunteer. Ona care to be my partner?”

“Sure.” Ona nodded and smiled.

Jen smiled at her a little bit too flirty for Lucy’s liking but she tried to ignore the jealousy.

“Okay, Ona. I’m the attacker, I’m going to come at you and I want you to stop me.”

Jen went through many different techniques and moves with Ona, too many times Lucy noticed Jen’s hands lingering on the girl longer than needed. But she may have just been a bit jealous.

Jordan nudged Lucy, smirking. “I think someone else likes your girl.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Okay, try that with your partners. Gentle at first but then I want to see you go for it. To a degree obviously. I’ll come round and watch you. A clap for my amazing assistant.”

The group clapped and whooped.

Jen helped Ona up. “Thank you Ona, you were great.” She winked at the younger girl.

Everyone pared up, Ona and Lucy made a bee line for each other.

“Right, you ready?”

“Bring it.” Ona smiled.

The girls were gentle with each other at first, like most of the other pairs, going over the moves. By the last move Lucy had Ona on her back.

She smirked as she helped the girl up.

“Thats one to me.”

“For now.”

Ona got Lucy on the floor next, with a quick move to the ankle, Lucy was more than shocked when her back hit the floor. Ona got her down three more times, on her back and her front with quick moves. So far Lucy has only gotten Ona down twice.

“Nice Ona. No one can ever beat this one. You losing your game Bronze?” Jen chuckled.

Lucy forced out a laugh. Wiping her sweaty brow.

Ona smirked at Lucy, she could tell she was getting to her. This time Lucy did have her, but only for five seconds, Ona wrapped her legs around her waist and held her head, not tightly but enough for Lucy to let go.

The girls were panting, neither would admit it but both girls were getting worked up, and not in a fighting sense but more of a sexual working up.

Both maybe even a little wet.

You couldn’t blame them, this was the closest they had been physically in real life, and not just their day dreams.

Lucy grabbed Ona from behind, pushing out her legs getting her to her knees, she easily got her on her front with her knee in her back, not enough to hurt but enough for Ona to forth it.

“Okay guys, I want you to do the last move. Someone on their back.” Jenny shouted out.

“I can go on my back.” Ona breathed out.

Lucy nodded, not trusting herself to be mature enough to speak.

Ona laid on her back, waiting for Lucy to straddle her.

The brunette looked down at the smaller girl, her chest rising hard, she couldn’t help but feel heat travel in between her legs.

She slowly sat softly on Ona’s stomach, she could feel her own cheeks going red, thankfully she could blame it on the training. She looked down at Ona, her brown eyes were looking up at her, a shy smile was on her face, she clearly could feel her own heat travelling south between her legs.

“And start.” Jen shouted.

Ona didn’t even have a chance to move before Lucy grabbed her arms and lifted them above her head, pinging the girl down. This is where Lucy had the advantage, she was bigger than the girl and technically she was stronger.

Ona grunted as she tried to flip, thrusting her hips up and down, causing Lucy to bounce on her. But Lucy’s thighs held her down hard. She gritted her teeth, and tried again but she couldn’t move the older brunette.

Lucy was definitely blushing now, she knew she shouldn’t but the movements Ona was doing was making it hard to concentrate. She watched as the girl closed her eyes, trying to think.

The Spaniard opened her eyes to see Lucy staring down at her, her pupils nearly took over the green in her eyes. She smirked down at Ona.

“Can’t move can ya?”

Ona chuckled, Lucy felt her stomach knot up, having Ona beneath her, laughing up at her, a panting mess, thrusting up into her own heat was a moment she’d never forget.

Ona could see the way Lucy was looking at her, she had looked at Lucy like that many times before, so she decided to go about it another way.

She bit her lip, innocently looking up at Lucy, she groaned a little differently to how she did before, the grunt slipped into a small moan from deep within her throat. She breathed a little harder, making her chest rise. She thrusted her hips with more pressure and precision.

Lucy’s face was a picture. Ona could feel Lucy had loosened her own thighs.

“Creo que estás disfrutando esto demasiado.” (I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.) Ona whispered

“No es una mala vista.” (It’s not a bad site.) Lucy whispered back.

Ona used that opportunity to buck Lucy hard, finally pulling her wrists free. She grabbed Lucy with her own thigh and swapped their positions.

Once again Lucy was last for words, for more reasons than one.

Ona did what Lucy did to her, she grabbed her wrists, pinging them above her head, but she quickly dipped her head next to Lucy’s. She whispered.

“You’re too easy.” She smiled smugly down at Lucy.

Lucy could feel her nipples perk, even though she was hot and sweaty a shiver went down her spine just from Ona’s words.

She tried to bounce the girl off, but it only made it worse, she watched as Ona bit her lip, tightening her hold on her wrists. She could feel herself getting wet, her body was melting underneath the younger girl.

“And time. Let’s finish it off there.”

Ona let go of Lucy’s wrists, she saw she left marks on her wrist, instantly feeling bad.

“Oh Lucy, I’m sorry did I hurt you?”

“What? Oh, no not at all, maybe my pride but no.” Lucy chuckled.

Ona laughed, she reluctantly got off of Lucy, helping the brunette to her feet.

“Okay guys, well done. That’s it for today. I’ll see you again next month.” The room clapped and thanked Jen, slowly making their way back to the changing room.

“Hey Ona, can I have a word?”

“Oh, sure. What’s up?”

Lucy felt her jealousy creeping back up, she carried on walking trying once again ignore it.

***********

It was the end of the day, Lucy finished up writing up some documents, while Ona looked into more on the current case they were working on.

“Done! You ready to head off?”

Oma smiled brightly up at Lucy.

“Sii, I’m ready.”

They were waiting at traffic lights when Lucy couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“So what did Jen want?”

“Hmm?”

“Jen, she wanted to speak to you after the training.”

“Oh, she asked if I had done any kickboxing before. She runs a class and wanted to know if I’d ever like to join.”

“Ohh. Yeah, I think you impressed her.” Lucy smiled softly at Ona.

“Yeah, she also asked if I was ever free for a drink, she’d like to take me.” Ona tried to say it as casual as she could.

Lucy felt her stomach drop. But of course she wasn’t going to let it show.

“Ohh yeah? Will you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve kind of got my eye on someone else.”

Lucy had a feeling she knew who she meant, but didn’t press for anymore.

——————-

Ona looked at the Halloween decorations hung up around the office, it was nearly the end of October. It had nearly been a month that Ona had joined her new team.

She was in the kitchen making herself and Lucy a tea, making sure to let the tea bag sit.

“Alright Ona? Do you wanna sign the birthday card?” Jess Carter smiled brightly at her.

“Oh sure, who’s it for?”

“Lucy.”

“Bronze?”

“The one and only.”

“Is it today?”

“No, tomorrow. Getting it signed so it’s ready.”

“Oh, okay.”

Ona was surprised that Lucy hadn’t mentioned anything, but then she also wasn’t. The girl didn’t like much fuss over her.

She signed the card and gave it to Jess.

“Thanks Ona.”

Ona didn’t mention that she knew about her birthday instead she thought she’d surprise the girl.

————-

Lucy pulled up outside Ona’s house, the shorter girl was there as usual, with a beautiful smile on her face and two coffees in her hands.

“Morning.” Lucy smiled.

“Good morning birthday girl!” Ona handed over her coffee.

Lucy was shocked, how did Ona know? One of the girls must have mentioned it.

“Ahh thank you.”

“I got you something.”

“What? No! You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Ona smiled.

Lucy shook her head smiling.

“Well I made you something. As I didn’t have time to buy anything because I only found out yesterday.” Ona made a point to look at her with an annoyed face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mention it. I don’t like celebrating my birthdays.”

Ona looked at her with wondering eyes, like she was trying to work something out in her head. She did that often with Lucy, her brown eyes could look right through you, like she could see what you were thinking.

“Well, I want to change that because you should celebrate your life. Anyways here.”

She handed over a container box, Lucy could smell it straight away. Her mouth watered. She opened it up to see freshly cooked, freshly glazed, cinnamon rolls Lucy’s all time favourite.

“Oh my god, these look unreal. Did you make them?”

“Yeah.” Ona smiled proudly.

“Ona, thank you so much.”

“It’s okay. I know you mentioned they were your favourite.”

“You remembered?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Lucy wanted to slide over and kiss the girl, she’d gone out of her way just to make her day special, and she hadn’t even told her. She suddenly felt silly for not telling her.

“Can I have one now?”

“Of course, they are yours! Eat.”

“You have one too.” Lucy passed over the box after taking her own.

“Thank you.” Ona smiled.

Lucy couldn’t help the moan she let out when she sunk her teeth into the sugary treat.

Ona had to try and pretend it didn’t affect her.

“Oh my god. These are the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had.“

Ona giggled, sucking her thumb from frosting.

“I’m glad you like them.”

A comfortable silence fell over them, while the radio played and they finished their treats.

“That was amazing! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh you’ve got some cream on your….here let me.”

Ona reached over, wiping the glazing off of Lucy’s chin. The older brunette watched as Ona kept her eyes on her lips, she then sucked the frosting of her thumb as she looked up at Lucy with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Lucy felt her face heat up, her mouth stayed open as she watched Ona sitting innocently in her seat.

“Gone.” She smiled.

The strength it took for Lucy to not grab Ona buy her jacket and throw her in the back seat of the car and have her way with her was incredibly difficult.

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

“Happy birthday dear Lucy, happy birthday to you!” The office started to cheer and clap as Lucy blew out her candles on her cake.

She cut the chocolate cake up for everyone in the office.

“Where we going this weekend then?” Jordan asked with a mouthful of cake.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“Oh come on. Why not? It’s your birthday grumpy arse, we’re going out.” Jordan pointed her fork at Lucy.

“Yeah Bronze, it’s only your birthday once a year. Stop being boring. I’m sure Ona wants to have a night out with us, don’t ya Ona.” Jill nodded towards Ona.

“Yeah, I agree. Stop being boring.” Ona smirked at Lucy.

“Great that settles it. I’ll book that karaoke place you like.” Jordan was already on her phone booking a table.

“I’ll put it in the group chat to see who else wants to come.” Demi took out her phone.

👮 🚓 👮 group chat 

Demi - we’re out for Lucy’s birthday tomorrow, going pub, karaoke then bar let me know if you’re coming

Jess C - yes!! 🙌🏼

Alex G - can’t wait, will be there x 💃🏻

Millie B - I’ll be there x

Lauren J - yesss 🐐

Lauren H - yay! Do I have to sing?

Rachel - might have to miss pub but will be there for the rest 🪩

Esme - yes!! I know my song already 🎤 x

Mary - whooop! Yess what time? X

Demi - 8pm at the kings head, 9 for karaoke then we can head to the pink lady

Beth - you’ll see me there! X

Lucy - I guess I’ll be there 🤨

Jordan - you can come if you like

Jill - does she have to?

Ona laughed at the groups dynamics, over the last month she had got to know some of the girls, she couldn’t wait to have a night out with them.

**********

It was the end of the day and as usual Ona and Lucy walked to the older girls car. Just as they sat down Lucy’s phone started to ring, her mums name coming up in with a FaceTime.

“Ergh sorry, let me just grab this quickly.” Lucy picked up her phone .

“No worries.” Ona went on her own phone.

An older ladies voice came through loudly through the speaker.

“Happy birthday!! I won’t sing, I know you don’t like that. How’s your day been? Those cinnamon rolls looked gorgeous! I can’t believe your friend Ona made that for you. That’s so lovely of her! Don’t eat them all at once, you’ll be sick. You look a bit thin Lucy, you eating enough?”

Lucy closed her eyes, she loved her mum but sometimes she could talk for Britain.

Ona couldn’t hold the smile that plastered her face. The fact that Lucy sent a picture of the rolls to her mum melted her heart. She thought about Lucy taking a picture and thinking to send that to her mum, it made Ona’s instantly smile.

Lucy saw her smiling, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her own face

“What’s that? Why you smiling? Is someone there? Who you smiling at?”

“Ona’s in the car with me now. She can hear you questioning me like a Detective.”

“Ohh hola Ona! Those buns were beautiful! If I ever come down I’ll have to have you make me some.” Lucy’s mum laughed.

Lucy mouthed ‘sorry’ to Ona. But her mum of course so her.

“Oi don’t be rude missy, let me say hello to Ona. Turn the phone around.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, she turned it just enough for her mum, Ona leaned in close to Lucy so she could say hello.

She saw a woman that looked just like Lucy, she could actually see what Lucy would look like in years to come. Her bright smile was the spitting image.

“Hello Ona, oh you are a pretty thing. You weren’t lying was you said she was pretty Lu- what? No, I’m on the phone!”

Lucy contemplated on just dashing her phone out the window from pure embarrassment. Her mum had just let it slip that she had maybe mentioned Ona before and even the fact that she said she was pretty. She wanted to simply run away.

“It’s under the stairs. Your dad says happy birthday. Are you two going for a meal for your birthday?” Lucy’s mum smiled down the camera.

A second of silence fell over the girls as if one wanted to see what the other would say.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Ona looked over at Lucy with her big brown eyes. For the first time Lucy was glad her mum opened her mouth, she may have just  made her day even better.

“Yeah?” Lucy said.

“Alright I’ll let you two sort that out. I’m glad you’ve had a good day Lucy. Was lovely to finally meet Ona, Lucy doesn’t stop talking about you. Lovely to put a pretty face to a pretty name.”

Lucy’s face was definitely red now.

“Ahh thank you, it was lovely to meet you too.” Ona smiled at the camera.

“Okay, bye mum, thank you for calling.”

“Bye Lucy, I’ll call you soon.”

Lucy hung up the phone, looking over at On.

“So where do you wanna eat?” Ona smiled playfully at Lucy

[minx1o]

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 ᶠᵉᵃᵗ ʳⁱⁿ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴇ.

ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴘʀᴏ ʀɪɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1ᴋ

Rin still remembers the adrenaline rush that filled his senses that day- the focus he directed into every step he made. It was as if he was treading down an outrageously thin line that could break at any given moment.

Maybe he was exaggerating.

Nevertheless, whether or not he was being dramatic; all of that didn’t matter.

Not when you’re sitting in front of him, roughly 3 feet away with the full moon shining behind you. Looking your best.

But that meant anything. After all, you’ve always looked your best every second of every single day he lays his eyes on you.

His eyes were fixated on your face, his facial expression remained still- he knew he was spacing out but he knows he can’t help but ignore the rest of the world when he’s with you.

In truth, there was absolutely no need to be nervous at all, he was fairly sure you would say yes. Those days where you would promise each other the world whilst laying on his couch after an exhausting movie night were full undeniable proof that you loved him. And he knew that

So why on earth is he near trembling as he's tracing the outline of the box in his pocket, he will never know.

From the moment he asked if he could take you to a date, you knew something was up.

He was particularly jittery and quite awkward, but you paid no mind to it- after all, it could just be stress from all that work he’s been doing

However deep inside, there is a strong gut instinct within you that wants to hope that he’s finally doing it.

It’s not strange for you to hope things would turn out this way. You have been dating since you were 17.

Which means you’ve been dating for 9 and a half years.

And yet, still no ring on your finger.

Your friends and relatives constantly tease you about it, it’s no doubt the both of you are still very young and have much more left of life to explore, but you can’t help but feel scared of how fragile such a flimsy relationship is.

You are almost a 100% sure you don’t doubt what you and him have….but still.

It’s not that you’re rushing him, well actually you don’t know why you want to get engaged so much.

Maybe it’s because you need some form of reassurance that he wants to be with you.

Maybe you’re scared that he doesn’t want to spend the forever he promised you.

Either way, you are here now, sitting in the balcony of this newly opened high-class restaurant- the moon is full and the stars sparkle in his eyes with pure perfection.

Even the stars and the moon fail to shine in his presence.

Dessert is served, and you quickly reach out to the tiramisu cheesecake- only to be stopped by the man in front of you. His hold on your arm is tight and stern, and you cant help but pause and give him a confused expression.

“Rin?..”

“Before anything else… can you please.. listen for a bit?...”

Its happening

He leaves his seat to kneel on the floor- his face ever so sincere, and his eyes sparkle more than ever.

Its happening

He pulls out the small navy velvet box that has been settling uncomfortably in his pocket, and opens it in front of you. Eyes never drifting away from your gaze.

“Love, from the moment I laid my eyes on you I knew I wanted nothing else but to be with you. You have been the sole muse- the main character of my own life. I don’t know I even deserve to be here, kneeling before you- asking you to promise me your world, but I simply cannot live a life knowing you wont be there to greet me the moment I wake up every single morning. So please-“

His tone slightly breaks, as his gaze softens.

There are a million thoughts going on inside his head, each and every one of them centers you- only you

His heart race and he can feel his palms quaking more and more with each passing second.

He knew he was never the type to be nervous, but how could he not be nervous when your future and the rest of your forevers rely on this one singular moment.

It baffles him how a single yes or no could determine the flow of the next 25, heck even the next 50 years of his life.

He parts his lips and takes a breath before proceeding.

“Please, would you be there with me through all the seconds of all the days left in our forevers?”

Your breath hitches- it takes everything in you not to bawl out crying and straight up throw yourself into him.

And everything in you betrays you as you did exactly that.

Okay it was an exaggeration- you didn’t exactly bawl out, but you still cried.

Your arms fall straight into shoulders as you drop all you weight into him, his eyes widened as he immediately catches you with one hand, as the other stabilizes the ring he is holding.

You swarm him with the tightest hug you can give. The moment lift your head to look up to him and stare at his face, his expression goes from a shocked one, to one that looks like he was about to cry. A small smile creeps into his face as you fail to resist the urge to crash your lips into his- not minding where you are right now.

He departs his lips from yours and reaches out to the discarded box the he placed on the floor.

“So, is that a yes or a no”

“Just put the ring on”

He chuckles as he slides the ring perfectly on your ring finger. Again, his eyes never leaving you.

You start kissing him again and you could’ve sworn you heard wedding bells at that moment.

[dreamwritersworld]

All too well. Part 2. (Miles Morales x reader)

Im so sorry for posting this late, I’ve just been extremely busy! I hope your all doing well! Please tell me you understand the references this is so Taylor swift coded! 😭💓

I allowed my body to slip into the portal and i allowed myself to slip from the buildings, the ending of it all felt like pure bliss…a new world.

Then I followed the webs that I saw slinging around quickly and excitement grew when I saw other Spider-Man’s. Yes, when seeing Gwen and Miles it hurt but the i ignored it because all I realized was that there was a community full of people just like me…so I listened to introductions and spoke.

“I’m Y/n!”

Bewilderment was written all over Miles and Gwen once I came forward and introduced myself

“What?! Y/n? Wha-what are you doing here?”

Slight panic and frustration was visible in his voice.

“I saw the portal and I walked in, anyone could’ve. You’ve guys got to be safe-“

Our conversation was interrupted, having to jump into fighting once again, falling into our hectic intoxicating lives.

The entire time after I wanted nothing more but to cry, I wanted to go back home..something felt so wrong. Within that walk I couldn’t help but feel sick to my stomach, it felt like in a simple moment I’d lose it all. Everything felt so loud my mind felt like it was closing in and suddenly it stopped when I felt him near me.

“Y/n you shouldn’t have came, this isn’t for you.”

Hearing miles say those words after everything I’ve done for him infuriated me. Why is this side of spiderman activities for him ok but not fine for me. I had no words so I just scuffed.

“I’m serious Y/n. You can’t ignore me.”

I should’ve embarrassed him, really, I should’ve…but I just couldn’t. So I settled on speaking back what I wanted so dearly to say.

“You do not get to say that. I’ve dealt with this as long as you and I’ve fought lots if not more than you. Since you were too busy with gwe-“

“Shut-, just shh.”

The walked away immediately and i showed him frustration and shame it was all from witnessing the boy I loved dismiss me once again. There was a clear castle of people he pretended to care about and I was at the top of his podium. Our once lovely relationship was a beautiful tragic love affair.

Distance.

Timing.

Breakdown.

Fighting.

Silence.

Hobie and Gwen could see it all no matter how silent the pair thought they were. All of those emotions made everyone sink into a infuriated fusion.

Meeting Miguel and seeing how he acted towards miles made me uncomfortable. Any version of miles getting saddened would cause me discomfort, he would always be the first boy I loved and I couldn’t help but always feel guilty.

Miguel’s had spoke aggressively to him clearly frustrated about the timeline, I was silent enough to not make a peep or even blink an eye..yet he still noticed me.

“What-what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be back home. This is changing everything now. I can’t believe you two! Seriously…”

He kept on going, screaming angrily and his voice became disoriented once I began panicking internally. I had handled being spider women well, but something about this trip nauseated my entire system. I brought myself back once I heard Miles talk about our canon events.

“My parents are going to die? And you expect me to what? Be ok with that?”

Rio was would be my canon event. Jeff would be miles.

Regardless of all the pain and hurt I felt I’d stick beside Miles because Rio and Jeff raised me from a far, they meant the world.

“We need to save them. Are you crazy?-“

Miguel immediately cut me off trapping miles and I, while everyone surrounded us.

“N-No you can’t do this! Please! You have to help us!”

I was furious and adrenaline rushed through my body i placed my hand on the wall surrounding us, the same time Miles placed his… and we escaped.

The entire time my heart pumped never once getting tired of running away from thousands of Spider-Man’s, my determination kept me aligned.

“…nah imma make my own story.”

I took another leap through a portal following panicking Miles. To be fair, he never exactly handled the role spiderman too well. With all the pressure and expectations he always leaned towards me until he had Gwen..in every story of ours I guided him.

His breathing was frantic and he struggled to find the words to express himself.

“Miles..”

His mind was scrambling everywhere and all he could do was look at her eyes and mouth moving speaking calming words. Y/n couldn’t see it but Miles saw her as the archer. She could be in fights but she was always far enough so she wasn’t the one to get hurt at first. It was the only reason Y/n remained level headed fighting against bad guys…going against him. She never let him see her break down the way she did that day.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so so-sorry”

His statement truly took Y/n by surprise as tears fell from his eyes and his panicked breathing tried slowing down..she allowed him to finish.

“If this is our last chance being together, if anything goes wrong saving them..I’m sorry for being so mean to you. You’re too sweet for me to lie. You always deserved more.”

Those familiar words sounded warm coming from him. Rio had only spoken them a day prior when she was heartbroken…

“We’ll make it out. We just need to save them and get back to our normal lives, no kiddy stuff anymore.”

As soon as she helped him get up and she turned away tears fell down from y/n’s face like ricochet’s. This was the final moment she was hanging up her childhood, maybe they had ruined they’re timeline..but it’ll all be fixed eventually, they just needed to grow up…

Tag list: @justleila @tati-the-fangirl @kxllanxtdoor @abbersreads @abislays123 @not-aya @usernamepasswordsstuff @moralesluvrr @inluvwithneteyam @twinklethoughts klenotastar @ilystarz @vodoo-heart @papichulo120627 @mashiromochi @frogsandmoss @laylasbunbunny @bigdikzaddy @catynss @venusluvslove @sxributr @anikaluv @yukinaabutlazy @hxidyg @szde8-blog @avatar4life @sgmianne @melaaaara @key-zee @isabelcor3

[blueberryinko]

The King’s Berry Chapter One

King Samuel had been crowned two years ago now and after his coronation, his rule had swiftly turned Hearth into a city of prosperity, its circular walls protecting its people, and he had his own protector in the form of Astra.

Astra had been his best friend growing up, and as the two of them sparred she’d found herself growing into his closest knight and right-hand. She knew it wasn’t proper to make advances but she had hopes, though they were hidden to him. The royal courts wanted him to marry noble and keep the bloodline pure, who was she to get in the way of that.

Even so as he entered the courtyard as she sparred with her young squire he grinned as she pinned him again. “Marcus, come on!” She growled to the teen in front of her. “Sorry Astra, I timed it wrong!”

“You’re getting better though.” Samuel pointed out as he stepped onto the dirt. “Little further and you’ll have it all well in hand. Perhaps you’ll even succeed your mistress.” He unsheathed his own sword as Samuel stood back.

“But my King, I keep losing my footing, how am I ever to be on the same level?” Samuel grinned as Astra held up her sword. “Like this.”

He leapt and with a first strike she ducked under his blade. He gasped as an elbow made contact with his gut, smacking it out of the way before landing a smack with the back of his hand. She blocked and he sidestepped her next swipe. Adrenaline coursed in his veins as they danced around each other, Astra’s sky blue tunic blowing in the wind. Ready…

She growled as she swiped and he dodged, kicking her feet out from under her and quickly pinning her down with his knee. “Thing about your mistress Marcus, is that she’s hotheaded.” He chuckled as she huffed, helping her up. “Only because it’s you.” She grumped.

The trio headed out into the market and as Marcus ran ahead Astra grinned. “He’s like a son to me.” She murmured. He could see it and he imagined her pregnant for what seemed like the hundredth time since his love for her began. “Please Astra, we’re young, do not remind me.”

“The best get started young,” She reminded him. He groaned, remembering how when they were kids he’d always begged her to have babies with him. “I was but thirteen Astra, Gods give me strength.” His cheeks were red with embarrassment, only she could tease him like that.

They wandered further, Samuel’s eyes fixed on Astra like it was the last time he’d ever see her, how she played with the village children, and how she cared for then. Eventually a familiar little girl ran up to them, looking worried. “Astra! Astra! Mummy’s having the babies!”

“Vernestra give me strength!” Astra swore, and the two of them broke into a sprint. She scooped up her youngest sister and they ran together towards their mother’s, Samuel hot on their paces.

Astra’s mother was a sorceress blessed with the gift of eternal youth, and she’d used that youth building the biggest family in all of Hearth, a goal which had meant Astra was never alone much as a child.

The cabin at the edge of the woods was their home, also home to a pocket dimension Astra’s mother had created for all the space they’d ever need. Astra rushed in and saw her mother, looking no older than thirty waddling naked around the house.

“Hey Mama.” Samuel wasn’t sure he was allowed to be witnessing this, but when Aurora noticed him he beckoned them both in. “My Lord, Astra, you didn’t have to.” She was calm as anything, swaying her hips to the rhythm of her contractions.

“Well where is Father then?” Astra reasoned. She loved her papa but he had the oddest penchant for popping off at the most important times. “He got called away for another bounty, we need the money.” Aurora replied sternly.

“We have more than double that from your transfer business!” Aurora also would transfer pregnancies from other women in the village when they were unwanted or when they needed a break. It paid generously, and it was so lucrative it allowed her to sell milk at copious amounts. It was a look into how fertile Astra could be, and the thought got Sam hard, as much as he tried to hide it.

They helped her waddle towards the bathroom where the pool waited. “How dilated are you?” Astra asked softly.

“About two centimetres,” Aurora murmured, Sam getting to work. They’d borne witness to so many of her births they were used to it now, and they separated her thighs together. “Getting there Aurora, just feel it out.”

She dilated quick after that and it was noon by the time she fully opened up.

“Oh, oh!” She groaned, looking every bit the picture of peak maternal prowess.

“I need up.” She said, and Sam and Astra lifted her so she could squat. She bore down, Astra observing as her mother seemed to harness a power above all, totally calm. She would never admit it aloud but Astra felt intensely jealous, she wanted that experience too. And as Aurora laboured, she watched as Sam began to pinch her mother’s nipples.

“Old midwives’ tale.” He explained to Aurora, who moaned at his touch. “D-don’t stop!” She begged. Astra watched, rapt attention solely focused on them, Aurora’s hips gyrating as the first of the twins slid into place. “There we go, that’s it.” Sam beckoned gently, cupping her flushed labia.

Astra dove to attention and quickly pulled her mother’s thigh back further.

“Gonna press on your belly now Mama.” She murmured, pressing down gently and ignoring the twist in her stomach when Aurora crowned, a loud moan drawn from the back of her throat. “No cord, we’re good!” Sam urged Aurora, who bore down again.

Her newest baby brother slid right out after that, and as Astra held him to Aurora’s breast to nurse, she prepped for the next baby.

“Okay Mama, one more.” She was honestly surprised Aurora wasn’t having more, but she guessed it was a blessing of sorts given the huge quantity her family was made up of.

Her baby sister came around late noon when her papa returned. “Oh my Gods! I came as soon as I could,” He apologised to his wife, the orc man leaning down to his shorter wife. “You were working, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sam and Astra left them to talk and Astra stared wistfully at the scene from behind the door. “I want that..” She murmured, though she didn’t know whether it was to Sam or herself. Her heart hurt.

He was about to reply when a sender rushed into the courtyard. “The Jenin are attacking! They’ve burned the eastern wheat field!” Oh, gods, that was urgent. Astra and Samuel only had to glance at one another before they were racing to the stables.

“That was this season’s grain harvest, we’re already down from last winter!” She couldn’t count how many would suffer because of one act, they had to protect their people.

She would have made a fine queen, Samuel thought, but his thoughts were focused on the attackers. “We ride together full wave. Intimidation to see if they’ll run. Have the garrisons pincer them!” She wove an intricate pattern with her arms, a runic pattern igniting and flying up into the air, dissipating with her message.

They rode towards the Heatherwood fields and the plume of smoke that rose up from them nearly smothered the skies. Ash clung to their tunics and as Astra jumped from her horse, the knights rushed along at her charge. “Just like old times!” Sam laughed as they met the fray with a clash.

“What, before your father?” She giggled, ducking under a swipe, countering with her own blows and severing the opponent’s throat, dancing around Samuel’s blade as he struck a foreman.

“Exactly like dear old Dad!” He crowed, and neither of them noticed the hooded figure racing through the crowd until it was too late.

THUNK!

“AAAGH!”

Samuel whipped around, a blue dart sticking out of Astra’s neck. “Astra!” He caught her fall, legs going faint as a fever danced across her body like the fires of Hell itself. “Sam, Sam, blueberry-!”

Her skin was turning blue. She was turning honest to gods blue and Samuel was panicking. “Marcus!”

Marcus ran up and saw her state immediately. “We have to get her out of here!” Samuel urged. “I have one arm you have the other.” Marcus agreed. Together they hauled her up, watching as the blue ran down her veins, through her face, down into the rest of her body.

She was entirely blue when her belly gurgled, and she started filling up.

“Sam!” She moaned, standing up straight. As she did so, her boys finally noticed the state of her belly. “Astra, you’re blowing up like a pair of bellows!” Sam remembered this from when they were young. An old family allergy that had been passed down to her had caused her once to blow up like this, they’d been eleven when it happened and she’d damn near burst.

“We need to get her back to the city!” The keep would do for now, the fight was almost over, the knights had slaughtered the invaders easily. It had been almost laughable, but Sam was fully focused on his lover.

“Sam, Sam, if I pop, I love you!” Astra whimpered, her belly now looking as if she’d swallowed a whole buffet, stuffed so full it broke the belt she had on, the domed underside of her belly paunching out further and further every moment.

“You’re not gonna pop, you’re gonna be fine.”

Sam didn’t want to believe the alternative, watching as her tunic rode up further and further. She gets fat, and if it weren’t so dangerous Sam would be sporting the biggest erection known to the city’s people at that moment.

“I-I love you more than words can say.” He admitted after a moment. Marcus, while worried for his adoptive mother-figure, felt his heart swoop, they’d finally admitted it after a whole damn near lifetime of dancing around it.

If she didn’t pop, Astra was going to allow him to bend her over and fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

She was rotund now. The seams on her tunic had become so wide her breasts broke through the fabric, unconfined by any bra or underwear she could get on her that morning, she was topless. Her nipples were a deep violet and leaking, thighs so fat they were jiggling even as they raced up towards the keep.

“Let us in, she’s been poisoned!” Samuel ordered, the guards letting them through-

“Oof!”

She was stuck! She was stuck in the doors! “Samuel!” She begged.

“Oh, lords.” Samuel swore, and he and Marcus grabbed her hands. “Pull, man, pull!” He ordered. She popped through the frame with a loud POP, and stumbled, almost falling onto her belly if not for the boys steadying her.

“Come on, come on, to the quarters, we’ll figure this out.” He wanted her to be comfortable, somewhere familiar, maybe it would help. They reached the keep quarters and they bundled her in unceremoniously.

She waggled vestigial limbs and waddled on the spot, crotch brushing the ground. “I-I think I’m slowing!” She gasped, hopeful. Her pants burst in a smatter of fabric and sewn shrapnel, her womanly nature on full display if not for the panties she wore, unflattering on her now positively multi-hundred pound sphericality.

“Marcus… leave us.” She decided. “Go and bathe little man.” He left the room once he was sure she was safe, and as her limbs were pulled into the divots her newly fattened, fruited body had made for her, her swelling slowed to a complete stop, a fat blueberry knight as wide as she was tall. They had a spy in their midst.

“Sam?” She was really about to do this. “Love of my eternity, I want you to fuck me, and I don’t want to leave this room until I’m pregnant.”

Samuel approached, his hands holding her new form reverently, one poke shattering her panties, bursting from her body in a loud-

CRACK!

BANG!

Leaving her positively, beautifully naked. Samuel saw her diameter quake, shuddering with need. “You’re beautiful.” He growled, rubbing her belly. Almost a total orb if not for her breasts, and the wonderful arse she sported, his cock brushed her belly. “Gonna look even better carrying my babies.”

“Anh-Sam!” She gasped, feeling his hands knead her gut. Her nethers were wet, slick with juice and want, she knew he was imagining her pregnant, a turgid gut full of his babies leaving her heavy and damn near immobile. “You’re gonna make me so big.” She whimpered.

“So big,” He agreed. “Hands on your belly, your breasts giving our children’s milk to the world like a dairy cow, following in your mother’s footsteps.” She squeaked as he started gently tipping her onto her back. “Sam, Sam, Sam!”

“That gets you love? Knowing no matter how hard you fought you’d always end up like this? Swollen and turgid, belonging to me and me alone?” Another gush from below splattered his naked thighs and he grinned. “Good girl.”

“H-ah!” Her feet kicked as his cock teased her entrance. He climbed atop her hemisphere and felt his cock slide into her, starting to buck his hips. “You feel that honey? You feel me spearing you, seeding you?”

“I feel you, I feel you!” She felt his cock swell inside her, pressing up against her cervix. Her clit throbbed and she mewed, gasped, begged, anything she could think of. “Please Samuel, make me yours, break my cunt like a cat in heat!”

“Oh I will. You won’t be able to resist me, you’ll grow so fat not even juicing you could shrink you.” She was going to be rolled no matter what, he intended for that, and the sooner she agreed the better. “I’m gonna breed so well, gonna be so pregnant!” She was going to make sure every babe she carried for him was as strong as she could make the,, cramming her womb, stuffing her cunt every time she crowned.

Astra felt him pounding her quicker. “Every baby you birth tells me how much you love me, tells me how devoted you are to me,” He growls into her belly, slapping it rough, enough to leave a purple bruise, her moans now so erratic she couldn’t keep track of all the noise inside of her.

Her mind was so jumbled she was having trouble keeping coherent. “Sam, Sammie- Sammmy- Sam!” She babbled endlessly, his cock spearing her so hard she screamed, gushing juice around his mast as he teased her sex.

He was building up to his climax but he was forming a plan. “Don’t cum.” He ordered her. “Don’t cum, and don’t until I’ve loaded you up with so much cum I have to plug you.”

She gasps, she’d burst! But she keeps quiet, her mind slowly becoming more and more cock-drunk as cum and juice slosh, churn and heave inside her. He rode faster as his cock twitched, then GUSH!

Ropes of cum spewed into her waiting womb, past her cervix and bloating her womb totally taut, her wailing as her mind broke music to his ears. She was taking him so well, her walls clenching around him as he pumped her past her limits.

“Don’t cum!” He reminds her, slapping her belly again. She struggles and whimpers as her skin becomes stretched, creaking and groaning. Her belly is quite literally shuddering but she refuses to let even a drop back out of her puffy labia.

“Who’s a good girl?” He asks.

“Me?” She questions.

“I ask again, who’s a good girl?”

“I am!” Astra cried.

“Who’s a bloated berry cow?” He asked.

“Me, me, me!”

“Now cum, cow!”

“ANNNNAAAAAAHHH!” A deluge of sticky juice pulsed from her sex as she finally came, wailing and screaming over the frankly ridiculous amount staining the keep’s wood floors. He’d get someone to replace those tomorrow.

For now he was focused on his berried lover. “L-love.. I-I don’t think I’m a knight anymore..” She sniffled. Samuel rolled her upright and he rubbed her belly gently. “I know, I know my love, but you’re something better now. I’m going to make you a collar of the finest gold and make you my wife. I don’t care what the courts say.”

Astra gasped, tears brimming up. “O-oh Sammie…” She bawled as he hugged her. “It’s alright, you’re okay, you’re alright.” Maybe she couldn’t be a knight anymore. A part of her she’d adored had been ripped away from her so suddenly, but now she had different ideas, and she had a new life now.

“I’m gonna be okay?”

“You’re gonna be just fine.” He told her firmly.

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 54

Barry, Rafe, and Jessie pulled up back to Taneyhill right before they lost all daylight. Rafe had his gun securely against Barry's head in the backseat while his wife drove. No words were said the whole way there, yet Rafe and Jessie understood the assignment. Oddly enough, high tension situations were always where they thrived, both somehow always coming together. They got out of the truck and Jessie was suddenly grateful she had her leather jacket on, as she felt a sudden chill across her face from the night air.

Jessie walked closely behind the two men, making sure to kick the 'For Sale' sign right out of the ground. Once they made it to the front door, Jessie unlocked it. She didn't dare to turn on any lights, she knew Barry didn't need any crystal clear views of the house in case he tried to escape.

"You not even gonna give me a tour?" Barry sassed with a slight laugh. He flinched at how quickly Jessie turned her back around to face him, now uncomfortably close to his face. He could see her features illuminated by the moonlight, being sure to drink in her angry eyes and gritted teeth.

"The only reason you're not knocked out cold is because we don't want to carry you. But if you say one more word I won't hesitate to lay your ass out. Got it?"

Barry didn't have a response, at least not one with words. But his smirk was clearly visible. Jessie was disgusted. She rolled her eyes and scoffed as she continued walking to what would be the basement. The dark room was exactly how one would expect. It was the room Ward would occasionally use to "negotiate" with difficult clients. Rafe was only fourteen when he got a first look at what that basement was really used for. And now suddenly he was more than happy to "negotiate".

Just like out of a movie, Barry was put into a single metal chair in the middle of the concrete room, but not without some struggle of course. Regardless, Barry's attempts were no match for Rafe. Furthermore, Jessie would've put a hole in his head if he ever wiggled out of her husband's firm grasp. Rafe put his ex drug dealer firmly in the chair.

"Jessie, hold him."

With that, Jessie took over once Rafe planted Barry's wrists firmly in the restraints on the chair. If Jessie didn't know any better she'd say it was custom made just for "negotiations." Although, she wasn't too phased by it considering some nights in Manhattan were spent just like this, with Tom and Maci by her side. The adrenaline rush she was currently feeling was hard to forget, for her it was like riding a bike. She stared into Barry's soul as she caught her husband grabbing the chains above his head and bringing them down to click in place on the metal restraints. The look of pure fear and regret in Barry's eyes got Jessie's heart racing. She hated to admit it, but she loved the feeling of power. It was all too familiar.

Once Rafe was done they both stepped back and admired the man in front of them, sweating either from nerves or from the single bright light shining on him. He breathed quick, shallow breaths. Jessie was very well versed in reading the signs of people in stressful situations just like these. Maci and Tom took her already natural ability to read people and turned it into a skill that would take her far in the Manhattan Mayhem. She had a unique talent for being able to tell when people were about to crack or when they were bluffing... or when they were about to pass out or even die. Rafe had seen his fair share of negotiations as well, but he was more so the braun of this operation whereas Jessie was the brains. Rafe never missed an opportunity to think with his fists, and Jessie never missed an opportunity to play games with the mind.

"Can I please..." Barry begged through labored breaths and restless limbs. "... have... a cigarette." Barry finally choked out as he swallowed hard. Jessie figured it was to keep himself from throwing up. She had seen a good deal of people puke from the stress, and she could tell he was nearly there. That was the only reason she was about to grant his request.

Rafe and Jessie looked at each other with hard glances and then back at Barry with balled fists. Jessie inhaled deeply and reached in Barry's right pocket of his khaki cargo shorts.

"Considering you look like you're about to puke..." Jessie said in a low, intimidating tone as she slid a Marlboro out of the package and ran it through her fingers slyly. "I'll allow it."

Jessie stuck the cigarette in between Barry's lips. She dug around her leather jacket pockets and eventually found the zippo she never seemed to get rid of. Rafe watched intently as she stuck the flame out just enough for Barry to lean forward and light the Marlboro between his teeth. One hit was enough to calm Barry down just enough to get cocky all over again, albeit not by much.

"So when am I gonna get my money." He asked with narrows eyes and an annoyed expression.

Jessie just laughed and looked up at her husband, who also now shared the same amused expression.

"You really haven't figured it out by now?" Rafe asked. Barry just looked confused. Jessie had so much to say about Barry's clear lack of intelligence and inability to read the room. However, she decided to keep it to herself in the name of tactical intimidation. She just clicked her tongue and laughed.

"You're not getting any money." Jessie simply stated with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders. By now she made her hands comfortable in her jacket pockets, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Barry's eyes went wide as he realized the jig was up. He knew he shouldn't have trusted them.

"You bastards, this is horseshit!" Barry yelled as he leaned in closer. It was obviously ineffective considering his wrists were still secure to the chair.

"Look, if you're gonna yell we're gonna leave." Jessie replied calmly, still not feeling the need to remove her hands from her jacket.

"You bitch, I knew I-"

Barry was cut off by a swift hand to his cheek, but surprisingly, it wasn't Rafe's. Jessie beat him to the punch, literally. She slapped Barry square across his left cheek, undoubtedly catching him off guard. He didn't manage to finish the sentence, instead he just looked at his former customers as if to say "really?"

"Let's go, Rafe."

Jessie slowly turned around, making sure to bore her eyes into Barry once more before turning for the door and walking away, making sure every click of her boots were heard on blood stained concrete. Rafe did the same as he followed behind her.

"Walk him like a dog, sis." Barry joked, just having to have the final word as the steel door shut, leaving Barry with nothing but an echo.

Jessie and Rafe both stopped right outside the door, leaning against it after it closed. They both knew Barry couldn't hear them, so they didn't mind.

"What the hell are we gonna do?" Rafe asked, clearly annoyed.

"Whatever we do, we can't lose our heads. Look, I know you and I would much rather be on that plane with Charley but we've gotta take care of things here, alright?" Jessie tried to comfort Rafe, as she could see in his eyes that his mind was elsewhere. He was torn to say the least. He wanted nothing more than to hop on the next plane to be with his daughter, yet he couldn't bear the thought of leaving this unfinished, or even worse, leaving his wife to deal with it. He knew she was more than capable, but they needed to do this together.

"Rafe." Jessie snapped her husband out of his racing thoughts. He physically shook his head and brought his eyes back into focus on her face.

"Huh, oh yeah, right."

Jessie wasn't so convinced that Rafe was as dialed in as she needed him to be. He seemed frazzled, much like he used to look years ago. She didn't like the look. She just studied his features a little more, looking for any sign of an attitude adjustment. She didn't find one.

"Let's go upstairs." Jessie suggested with a tone of hesitancy.

"Jessie, no... we can't... somebody's gotta watch him." Rafe retaliated. Jessie couldn't believe he actually thought tactically for a moment considering how out of touch he seemed just moments ago.

"Rafe, you know that room better than I do... has anyone ever escaped?"

Rafe didn't have a response to that. Despite Jessie never having seen that room before, she knew there was no way Barry was getting out of the thick chains and the bolted steel door. Furthermore, Rafe had never known anyone to make it out of that room... alive. Jessie took his silence as understanding and simply kept walking, expecting Rafe to follow. They both walked up the concrete stairs, eventually making their way to the long corridor on the main floor of the mansion. The two of them stopped in the hallway awkwardly, each of them deciding to throw themselves along the wall and kick their heads back, breathing a deep sigh to attempt to relieve some tension. They faced opposite of each other, and Jessie was the first to open her eyes. She noticed Rafe's eyes were closed and his head could've sunk into the wall with how heavily he was relying on it to hold him up. He looked like he wanted to collapse from the stress. He swallowed the lump in his throat, still not managing to open his eyes. Jessie couldn't help but notice the veins popping out of Rafe's arms and hands just a little more as he fiddled with his fingers.

"You're hot when you're stressed." Jessie admitted with a goofy grin. Rafe finally opened his eyes at those words, looking across the small hall at his wife, who didn't seem to have a care in the world. He simply shook his head with the small laugh he could muster.

"You're something else." Rafe admitted in a low tone, whether it was because he was still thinking deeply or he was turned on, Jessie couldn't pinpoint just yet. She kicked herself off of the wall and flung herself onto her husband. Despite not being in the mood, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist, immediately finding the back pockets of her jeans and sticking his hands in them. Jessie played with the collar of his shirt, finding it buttoned up too much for her liking. She didn't exchange any words, instead, she looked him up and down and undid one button. She patted his chest once she was satisfied and brought her hands up to his face, rubbing over his cheeks gently with her thumbs. Rafe melted into the touch as best he could, but Jessie could tell he wasn't completely relaxed. Knowing he needed more, she leaned in for a slow, passionate kiss that was sure to distract him. That it did, but only for a moment. Rafe was just about to fall further when he was pulled back into his racing thoughts. Jessie was so good at reading Rafe she could feel the difference without him even murmuring against her lips or moving his body a certain way. She huffed and leaned away, clearly annoyed.

"You need to calm down." She insisted, not in a rough way, just in a way that showed genuine concern. Rafe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand finding his own front pocket.

"I know, Jess... I just... can't."

Jessie knew what she needed to do.

"Come with me."

With that, Rafe took Jessie's soft hand as she guided him through the dark hallway and into one of the rooms, a room that Rafe knew too well. Jessie turned the knob on the light switch to reveal a dimly lit office... Ward's office, which was adorned with books the man probably never read and pristine paintings he probably never appreciated.

Jessie sat her husband down behind the cherry oak desk situated on the far side of the hollow room. Despite the leather chair being one of the most luxurious pieces of furniture in the house, Rafe couldn't help but feel like he was sitting on pins and needles. He was so anxious he couldn't stand himself... and his wife was growing tired of him too. She gave him a look of reassurance as she slowly backed away and slunk over to the glass cabinet that housed the most expensive liquor she'd ever seen. Despite the extensive collection of bourbons and tequilas and everything in between, she opted for the number 7 whiskey at the very back of the cabinet. Ward was ashamed to like such "cheap" liquor, but he couldn't help that it was one of his favorites. Jessie remembered that from one of their many nights spent smoking on Rafe's balcony. She knew Rafe had the same taste for cheap whiskey.

Jessie grabbed two glasses from the same cabinet and began to pour the whiskey achingly slow. Rafe took in every detail, to the half smile on his wife's face as she poured to the grip she had on the bottle.

"You remember when we snuck in here and drank from your dad's cabinet?" Jessie asked, not even bothering to look up.

"How could I not? I didn't think I would ever be high enough to cross that line but of course you made it happen." Rafe replied with a content smile on his face. He licked his lips in thought as he became more relaxed in the chair thinking of the memory.

"I always get what I want." Jessie only half joked as she closed the bottle and set it on the desk. She looked at Rafe who now had a knowing smile on his face as he swiveled slightly in the chair with his arms draped lazily on the sides.

"Yes you do." Rafe responded. Jessie took the glasses in each hand and made herself comfortable on Rafe's lap. She handed him a glass as she took a drink for herself. He swished the copper colored drink around and looked up at Jessie with a curious look.

"What're we doing?" He said barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

"We're getting you lose." Jessie simply stated as she took another drink. It always amazed Rafe how she never grimaced at hard liquor. It always kinda concerned him too.

"For what?"

"For you to either admit to me what's on your mind or for you to forget it enough to go back downstairs and do what we gotta do."

Rafe just sighed and looked back down at the drink. He finally decided to cave in as he downed the glass and set it back down on the desk. Not what Jessie expected, but she didn't complain.

"Last time we did this... you and I both messed up..."

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked, now looking directly into Rafe's eyes, genuinely curious as to what he meant. Rafe just looked annoyed. He looked around the room and rubbed his face.

"Jessie you..." He sighed, not completely sure how to word his sentence. "When I killed Ward, I lost my mind... and when you killed Limbrey and Rose... you lose yours too."

"Oh come on Rafe I did not-"

"Yes, you did Jessie. You and I may have lost them in completely different ways but... you were different after that... and so was I."

"And?"

Rafe didn't know what to say to that. Did she really not know that they had changed? She knew... she just didn't care.

"So what if we're different, Rafe? Maybe we're just now two people who are willing to do whatever the hell we have to do to keep our daughter safe? Did you even consider that? What we're doing isn't weakness... it's strength! So what if we need to drink a little or smoke a little to get through some real heavy shit? God, what happened to you? Just months ago I heard you were the toughest guy around, not giving a shit what you did or who you hurt and now..."

Jessie stopped to contemplate if she wanted to finish that sentence. She knew first hand that words could never be undone. But who was she kidding? Of course she wanted to say what was on her mind.

"... you're weak."

"I'm not weak, Jessie. I'm just trying to find a balance in who I once was and who I need to be..." Rafe replied with hurt, confusion, and anger all rolled into one.

"Fair enough, Rafe. But you and I both know we don't have time to hesitate. Hesitation gets you killed. You and I against the world, remember?"

Rafe breathed deeply as he searched Jessie's eyes. He had no clue what he was looking for. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pursed his lips, now looking more determined.

"Right." He simply replied. "So what're we gonna do?"

Jessie's rage turned into a smirk as she cupped his face.

"You said it yourself... that bastard made your daughter cry."

The memory burned in Rafe's head as if it was playing on the big screen. He couldn't get his precious Charley's cry out of his head as he was forced to not look back. Jessie could see the thought was making him tense up. She took the opportunity and ran with it as she traced her fingers along his jaw and whispered in his ear.

"Make him pay."

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Run, Human... RUN. part 6

Warnings: violence, blood, extreme physical trauma and sickness, broken bones, ambushed, trapped in a pit, starvation

"What the--" Alexa whirled to see several humans jump out of the cover of the bushes, rushing up to her in full tactical gear and bearing military rifles.

"Wait--don't--" it was all happening so fast, Alexa couldn't keep up. One second she was having a conversation with the bat-man, and the next a group of five people had appeared and taken down Tyleet.

Tyleet ended up flat on his back with someone standing over him, their rifle pointed at his head. He froze, keeping perfectly still to avoid making things worse. The person ripped off their mask and--

"VIOLET?!" Alexa cried. Violet turned her head and smiled in pure joy.

"Welcome back, friend. Although it's quite a miracle you're still alive after how long you've been gone.

"But how--"

"I was on patrol with my group when I heard your lovely voice," Violet explained, still holding Tyleet at riflepoint. Her feet were planted on the ground right above Tyleet's shoulders, one on either side of his head.

"So me and my team crept closer only to find you with one of them." Violet gestured down with the point of her rifle to Tyleet. "Glad we made it in time to save you."

"Wait--no--you misread the situation!" Alexa barked. "Stand down!"

Violet looked at her incredulously. "Are you out of your literal mind?! This is one of those rabid monsters--"

Alexa's gaze flicked to meet Tyleet's, and she saw the muted panic in his expression right before his face darkened with raw fear. The kind of fear that can be seen in any animal backed into a corner, any animal that has been trapped with no way out. The dangerous kind of fear -- a deep, primal terror that would make any creature lash out. Do anything to escape. A feverish desperation. And Alexa's blood went cold as ice.

"Tyleet, NO--!" She tried to break through his fear, but Tyleet was already in fight or flight, injured and scared, and since flight wasn't an option yet -- he chose the only one left available.

Eyes huge with panic and adrenaline, Tyleet rolled to the side and grabbed Violet's leg, suddenly sinking his fangs into her calf. She shrieked in agony and dropped the rifle as he let go, using the distraction to try and fly off. But he didn't get far.

Tyleet spread his wings, whipping around and bolting for the forest -- but a member of Violet's team opened fire, a bullet tearing through Tyleet's bat-like wing, while another tore through his lower back, a third ripping his side open. He went down with a guttural scream, and the other teammates went to secure him so he couldn't attack again.

But that was now the least of Alexa's worries. She ran and dropped down in front of Violet, who was sitting on the ground cursing as she examined the bite.

Alexa's gut twisted violently. She vividly remembered what the bat-people's venom could do. She felt tears spring to her eyes, knowing how fatal it was.

Blood leaked out of the two puncture wounds in Violet's calf from Tyleet's fangs... but the area around it wasn't turning black, wasn't dying like it would if venom was coursing through her veins.

Alexa’s chest eased with dawning realization as her eyes flicked over to where Tyleet was pinned, being held down and subdued by the other humans, even as he thrashed and howled.

Tyleet could have killed Violet... but he chose not to. He chose not to inject venom. Chose to spare her. He had bitten out of fear, of terror, it was never his intention to kill Alexa's best friend. He was hurt, and scared, and that's why he'd lashed out.

Tyleet was fighting with every ounce of strength he had, fighting with feral desperation in every movement. Violet's teammates were struggling to even get close enough to secure him, his powerful wings striking several of them hard enough to send them reeling.

Tyleet managed to lurch to his feet, but was quickly overtaken as the humans charged forward and tackled him as a group, working together. He cried out in pain and terror as one of the humans jammed a syringe square into his shoulder, injecting an unknown substance.

Then the whole team let go and backed off, letting the bird-man wear himself down on his own and waiting for the drugs to kick in. It had been a heavy sedative. They kept him surrounded with nowhere to go as he stumbled back to his feet again, trembling hard.

Tyleet's frightened eyes darted around at them all, before finally landing on Alexa, hurt and betrayal sparking in their blue depths before they started sliding out of focus.

His balance started to sway and wobble, and he staggered heavily to the side, struggling to stay upright. His wings drooped and dropped awkwardly down behind him, quickly losing functionality just like the rest of him and he fell to one knee with a wheeze, shaking all over. He shook his head with a pained groan, blood sliding down his ever-paling skin from the bullet wounds.

Tyleet tried to get up again, but his legs gave out and he collapsed on his side with a broken wheeze, shuddering weakly as his strength was slowly sapped by the tranquilizer.

Violet's team closed in, sensing it was finally safe to approach as the fight left their target.

Tyleet's eyes were huge with fear as they stared up into the faces of his attackers, a heartbeat before they rolled back in his head and he went limp with one final shudder, unconsciousness claiming his mind at last.

"Get that vile beast under control and ready for transport back to base," Violet barked, dragging herself upright off the ground as she got her composure back. She held her injured leg in the air, blood still dripping down from where she's been bitten.

Alexa watched guiltily as Violet's team hurried to follow orders, metal shackles quickly being clamped around Tyleet's wrists and ankles, rope tied tightly around his wings and torso to keep his wings pinned against his body where they couldn't flail and hit anyone else if he woke up sooner than expected.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump @sausages-things

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

Soul Bound

Chapter Six- Master Manipulater

Also posted on AO3 and Wattpad!

Trigger warning for blood

Not proof read lol

Master manipulator

God, you’re so good at what you do

Come for me like a savior

And I’d put myself through hell for you

Hear all the rumors lately

That you always denied

Logical- Olivia Rodrigo

The next few days were quiet, the boys doing their part to clean up after themselves and staying out of Aron’s way. She’d hardly even seen Sam, and she couldn’t tell if it was because she was avoiding him or if he was also avoiding her. 

It’s for the best she would remind herself as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead. She was outside, practicing her magic despite the Chicago heat, wearing black knee length basketball shorts and a red baggy t-shirt. Typically, she would practice in the grand lobby, but she didn’t want to risk misfiring and hitting one of the incubi. Or to risk seeing them in general.

She focused her magic in her fingertips, shooting sharp energy at it and causing the bark to chip. She sighed, having hit too far to the side for her liking. She continued practicing, the kiss with Andrew still fresh on her mind. She tried to focus purely on her magic, but her emotions with Sam stirred in her chest.

“Oh? And what makes you so sure about that?” Diana asked her with a smug smirk, her eyes challenging. 

They were standing in the lobby where the succubus had come to persuade Sam to return with her. She’d gone as far as offering him the throne, to rule the abyssal plains with her. Aron had come out to confront her, to argue on Sam’s behalf. But that question made Aron freeze.

She didn’t know why she was so sure that Sam didn’t. She knew why she was sure she didn’t want him to leave, why he had argued to leave. She had fallen for him, there was no doubt about that. And as much as the three words she so badly wanted to say meant, it couldn’t stop him from leaving with her unless he reciprocated, and she was so confident he didn’t.

Aron looked at Sam, who’s eyes were glaring daggers at Diana.

“Oh, I see. You love him” Diana chuckled, obviously amused.

“Human, it doesn't matter how much you love him, he will never love you.”

Aron looked at her, her heart squeezing painfully. “I know,” she said, keeping her tone dry. “But that doesn't change anything.”

Diana's entire body started to shake with laughter. “Oh? It doesn't? You would fight this hard for someone who won't ever love you back?”

Aron could feel Sam's eyes on her, but she spoke before he could. “Yes. Because, even if he doesn't, I care more about his happiness. Leaving with you is not something he wants, so even if I wake up tomorrow and he's gone, I can live with that because he's happy. That's what love is, even when it isn't reciprocated. It's wanting what's best for them, even if in the end you can’t have them.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You are pathetic, truly. And incredibly stupid. What is best for him would be to allow him to leave with me, someone who can fulfill his needs in a way a mere human could never. Him staying here is only hurting you and holding him back from his full potential. Stop fighting so hard for someone who doesn't, and never will love you.”

Aron opened her mouth to retort but gasped in shock when suddenly Sam's arm was wrapped around her protectively. “I love her.”

The memory was cut off by a sudden stabbing pain in the side of Aron’s throat. She yelped, blood gushing from the gash dangerously fast. 

She immediately stuck her finger in the wound, finding the cut in her artery and clogging it. She already felt a bit dizzy, but adrenaline kept her on her feet.

“Aron!” Damien suddenly rushed out of the mansion and over to her, panic written all over his face.

“I’m fine, I'm fine, my spell just ricocheted onto me” she told him quickly, trying to stay calm. Getting worked up would only worsen the situation. She started focusing her energy on the area, healing it carefully.

He watched her with wide eyes as she stopped the bleeding from her neck and hesitantly removed her hand. She healed the external injury next before sighing. 

“Are you alright?” Damien asked her.

She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying not to faint. “I'm okay.”

Aron slowly sat on the ground, a few feet away to not sit in her own blood. Not like it would back a difference, her clothes now covered in it. She laid back to recover from the sudden blood loss.

Damien didn't try to help, and Aron assumed it was because he could hear her thoughts; she didn't want him to try to touch her. Not because she thought he'd try to hurt her, but because she was overwhelmed.

He hesitantly sat by her. “Is there anything I can do?” His voice was soft and quiet.

She thought for a moment. She figured she could use a snack, but before she could decide to go get it herself, Damien was leaving to get it himself.

Aron couldn't help but silently scold herself. She let a memory impact her so much that she almost killed herself. Sure, she could heal herself and was fine, but it was the principle behind it. One of the first things she was taught in the hospital was to not let her personal life affect her treatment of patients, but now it was distracting her so much that she'd sliced open one of the most important arteries in the body. She was suddenly grateful that she was on a mandatory break.

Soon, Damien came back out with saltine crackers and water. He sat with her and held them patiently as she slowly sat up. “Thanks,” she said as she took them.

“You're welcome,” he told her, his eyes concerned as he watched her start to eat.

“When did you learn how to heal yourself?” he asked her quietly. 

“It was one of the first things they taught us in the med program I'm in,” she told him. “Can't heal patients if you're injured, and when you work in a hospital, that happens more than you'd think, at least at the kind I work at.”

He nodded. “I can see that. It's good they taught you. Was it hard?”

She shook her head. “Maybe a little at first, but I caught on pretty quickly.”

They settled on silence for a bit before Aron sighed, deciding to go get changed. Damien watched her as she stood up and turned to leave before he spoke. “You should speak to Sam.”

Aron froze in her tracks, pausing for a few seconds before continuing to walk again. She could already feel herself getting pissed, rage bubbling in her fingertips as she began to leave again. He must have had different plans, because he spoke again.

“You aren’t in love with Andrew.”

Aron furrowed her brows in annoyance and turned to face him. “Obviously,” she huffed. “I’m breaking it off with him.”

He hummed. “Why aren’t you giving it time? Humans typically take longer than a few dates to fall in love.”

She fought the urge to snap at him. “Yeah, I know.”

“So, there is another reason you are holding back. Are you in love with Sam?”

Aron glared at him. “I’m not having this conversation,” she told him before turning around.

“Diana put a spell on you.” Damien’s sudden claim made Aron’s entire body freeze, whipping around to face him again.

“No, she didn’t,” she said incredulously. “I would be able to feel it if she did.”

He sighed. “Not if it’s been there the whole time you’ve been learning magic. You’re used to it and recognize it like your own energy.”

Aron looked at him wide eyed, her mouth parted as she tried to find a retort. There was absolutely no way possible, he was just trying to manipulate her! He stood up, walking towards her. “I’m not. I can sense it, more so than my brothers because of my mind reading ability. It is affecting your mental state, making it so the lies she told to you were more efficient. It makes it near impossible to realize she was lying unless you were provided with concrete proof.”

Aron felt frozen in place, her breathing picking up. He had to be lying, right? 

Damien shook his head. “I know you won’t believe me. I don’t expect you to. But I think you should sit down and try to sense it.”

Aron rolled her eyes and walked away before she said something she’d regret. How dare he!? She rushed inside and to her room, grabbing clean clothes and immediately going to her bathroom to take a shower.

She washed the blood off of her body, unable to shake off her conversation with Damien. She sighed, he had to be lying. She would know if she had a spell on her.

But what if she wouldn’t know? If it was already there when she started to learn, would she ever notice something was wrong?

Aron closed her eyes in defeat; there was no reason not to try. She started visualizing the energies and magic in her body, her body tingling. She separated each one, more than she ever had before. Each aura was distinctive, she’d never seen them so clearly. She got dizzy from the effort and moved to sit on the shower floor.

The first aura she noticed was her life and soul energy. It was her existence and humanity, an energy all humans had. Typically, soul energy was pure and white, innocent as angles intended. However, in witches, warlocks, and other humans with magic, their soul colors would mix it. Aron’s was a warm purple, glimmering with the white.

The next and most potent energy in her body was rage, a strong and sharp aura that was red with blue tangled with it, sharp like lightning bolts. She had an overwhelming amount, the chief of the hospital told her once that she had a similar amount as a brute demon, thanks to an odd genetic mutation that became more recognizable with trauma. It mutated again after she started to get skilled, causing the self-defense zaps that had attacked Erik a few days prior.

Then there was emotional energy, a mix of colors and various shades. It was smooth and gentle yet large and consuming.

Looking at the emotional energy led her to see one she hadn’t recognized prior. It was maroon, whipping her emotional and rage energy, provoking it. It also had conduit-like limbs that attached itself to them as well, dripping itself into them. It reminded Aron of an IV drip in a way.

Is this the spell Damien was talking about? As soon as Aron had the thought, it began to shrivel, attempting to cling onto the others desperately. She gasped softly, remembering what Damien told her.

It makes it near impossible to realize she was lying unless you were provided with concrete proof.

Aron watched in shock, her body burning in agony as the spell pulsed and wreathed, attaching itself to anything possible and failing. The maroon became a dark brown and began to shatter, the shards fading into nothingness. She could no longer focus enough to watch, the pain in her body becoming too much. It was like someone was taking a small knife and stabbing every inch of her body over and over. The spell tried to stay in despite her magic forcing it out as Aron laid on the ground, shaking and sobbing. She needed this to stop, just stop.

All of the sudden, her pain subsided. She was still laying on the floor, lukewarm shower water spraying over her trembling body. It felt like she was thinking logically about the boys for the first time in years, but…

She still didn't know if she believed them.

Sure, she had evidence that Diana had used magic on her, but that didn’t explain why the boys left! Unless Diana didn’t give them a choice, Aron thought to herself.

Oh god, what if that’s what happened?! She’d been treating them horribly! She found herself arguing back and forth, completely unsure of what to believe. 

It was the first time she’d even considered the possibility they didn’t have a choice.

[ashipiko]

A blur of red was all you managed to see, before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lifting you off the ground, you had no choice but to brace yourself. Hands finding themselves on a pair of slender shoulders, fingers gripping for all they were worth.

You look down, at the beaming face of Ace Trappola. His heart crinkles a little as he laughed, a joyous sound. Contagious, as well. You can’t help but smile whenever he’s around.

“What’s this all about, Ace?”

“Well, isn’t it someone’s special day today?”

He beams at you, lifting you up just a little higher. Spinning around, he slays you from the left to the right. Shrieking with laughter, you bat at Ace’s shoulders, trying to get him to slow down.

“You’re making me dizzy!”

Finally, he relents, opting instead to cradle you within his arms. A bridal carry, with your body pressed up against his chest. His heartbeat thumping into your arm, a rapid erratic salsa. A passionate dance, much like his love.

Ace loves recklessly, fully. Throwing himself at you, he’ll do a hundred tricks just for you to look at him.

You’re dizzy?

That how he feels every single time he looks into your eyes. A giddy sort of joy, rushing through his bloodstream like pure adrenaline. Great Seven, he’s absolutely whipped, isn’t he?

“Happy birthday Ashi. I love you.”

Happy birthday from this lil’ mage! 🫶

Wishing you many happy returns on this special day!💐

OC INTERACTION EVENT!

“A-Acey! No need to get so sappy— C’mon, we’re meant to party...!”

The party’s just starting and Ashi’s already flustered? There goes Ace, always needing to be #1. Watching from over a counter, a snickering mage can be found watching the two spin around and around... Until Ashi finally gets away and out of Ace’s grip. The brunette quickly runs over to her friend, catching them in a hug.

“Ceruru! So glad ya made it! Hehe, I appreciate the bday wishes~ Thank you SO much, fam!”

[rurus-writing]

Bloody silence

Notes: Those bitches r hurt and homes of sexual AND in pain 🤍I also realised I haven't posted any new writing in a little more than an year and I think that's so funny actually (It will happen again)

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Shou, Qiran (Ocs)

Tws: Talks of blood, non graphic descriptions of wounds, biting someone's arm in order to survive and drinking their blood to heal your wound (romantic)

Tags: @a-chaotic-dumbass @edensrose @eden-dum

Word count: 1000 ish words

╔•══════•༺۝༻•══════•╗

The metallic stench filling up Qiran's lungs was far too familiar to be confused for else: blood.

Not theirs, but oh - how they wished It was.

How they wished they weren't on the cold, rough ground, deep into Nadaka's silent, dark forest, clinging to their loved one's now red-stained body, rocking him back and fourth, tears falling on Shou's face, just like drops of rain.

An huge wound that originated from the right side of his neck to his abdomen was threatening to paint the ground red. His breathing worsened as the seconds went on, whereas his heartbeat began to slow down.

The moonlight did not touch the pair, almost as though it wanted to keep them hidden.

Neither of them could talk: one barely holding It togheter, the other closer to Mors's touch. Not even Nephele herself could bestow him protection, after all, what protection could she give for him? A surviving offspring of both a demon and an human, an union unprecedented yet deplorable?

No matter whether they'd invoke her name, she wouldn't have replied to their prayers. Not now, not ever.

Qiran knew they had to act fast, as they couldn't allow panic to swallow them even more, making them shake and weep further. They knew they had to go somewhere - anywhere else, but they couldn't leave his lover in those conditions either.

When their eyes met his, realising how their loved one was falling both in and out of conciousness,as he battled quietly for his life, they knew what they had to do.

Qiran gently raised the man's head, as they came even closer to their lover. After a moment of hesitation, they leaned their other arm over to Shou's mouth.

"SHOU -!"

They panicked, as their breath increased and so did their heartbeat.

"- Listen to me! Demons need blood, right?!? You do as well, don't you!?"

Qiran soon followed with a pause.

"Then if so - just...please...?"

They begged, as they leaned their arm even closer.

They could see a glimpse of pure fear through Shou's widened eyes, however, when he tried to talk, to avoid the inevitable, he could not. A mouth open, without any sound.

The only thing coming from his mouth was a faint, quiet panting, soon accompaigned by the sound of drops hitting the ground.

He had just begun to cry. He couldn't do it.

Qiran quietly hushed them, as they slowly started to caress his face. Shou had tried to keep his eyes shut and pretend not listen to his partner's proposal, to no avail. His head was quickly brought back up, however their arm was far closer than It was before.

He opened his eyes, staring at theirs once more.

Shou knew that he would have never forgived himself if he were to die in their arms, and leave them alone to sob until they physically could. Qiran gave him an encouraging nod, their eyes trying not to pour as they waited for an answer.

After gathering up enough courage, he opened his mouth, a pair of long, sharp canines emerging as soon as Shou's mouth made contact with Qiran's arm. His heartbeat was now increasing with every moment passing.

Then, he bit It, his eyes closing altogheter.

He sunk his teeth into their sweaty flesh, trying not to cut too deep, as he needed blood to flow from the fresh bite. However, as soon as he gulped a few drops from the bite, he felt like he had just gained another life.

The adrenaline rush made him thrust in even more, as with every gulp a part of his wound healed. He was in a state of bliss, up until he opened his eyes, and soon noticed how Qiran's head faced the other way, as they trembled, writhing in pain.

Shou stopped, realising how much he gave in. The sharp, shooting pain was the only thing occupying their mind, as they felt their energies fading more and more as they felt their blood pouring. They swear It had reached their hand for how much they were losing.

He slowly raised his head, his canines abbandoning the flesh he had just damaged. His wound had pratically healed itself, disappearing altogheter. He gasped for air, almost as though he had been underwater for quite a bit of time.

Shou was now sitting, slowly getting used to his sorroundings. Yet, the same couldn't be said for Qiran. Their wound was pouring as much if not more than his, as they felt weaker and weaker.

Neither had something to treat it, or to wrap it in. However, that's when Shou noticed just how long his own robes were, followed by a quick -

- Slash.

He had just torn off part of his sleeve with his nails, as he was fast to wrap it around the biting point.

No exchange of words was needed. The silence around them almost seemed reassuring, peaceful, even.

"We cannot stay here."

That's how Shou broke the silence, as his voice sounded much more like a whisper, with an hint of worry and agitation.

"Before anyone else gets hurt - we have to go."

He paused, looking up to Qiran. They had closed their eyes, and had let their body fall upon Shou's. He immidately reacted, making sure they wouldn't fall on the ground, holding them by the sides of their torso.

Soon though, that transformed into an embrace. The two silently held onto eachother.

"Oh, darling...

How shall I ever repay you?"

He did not expect an answer, but he was given one.

"You did - you already did.

I would not trade this moment,

this memory,

for as long as I'm alive."

╚•══════•༺۝༻•══════•╝

[patches-bitsandbobs]

started: 18/3/2023 - who was this weirdly familiar guy, and why was he telling him Noise’s battle strategies?

Peppino hated going anywhere. Gustavo loved going to the pub on the weekends. Peppino didn't have any money. Gustavo had enough money to buy them four sets of rounds. Gustavo likes alcohol. Peppino also likes alcohol. Gustavo thinks Peppino should get out more. Peppino thinks he’s better off staying inside, watching the telly.

begrudgingly, after much pestering and begging and asking, Peppino relented, and he and Gustavo headed out to the Shrimps Sipper as soon as the weekend rolled around. Brick stayed behind, offering to house sit for them, to the dismay of Peppino (Brick wanted to eat cheese).

it wasn't comfortable, considering it was half packed with former residents of the tower. Fork Knights, Pizza Slicers, Snowmen, Shrimp Thugs, and Golf Demons were among the few scattered here and there, drinking and talking to one another, thankfully not looking in their direction. Peppino very much wanted to keep it that way, so with half frantic taps on Gustavo's arm, he directed the other to a lone table, secluded in the corner. Gustavo, as bright and chipper as ever, followed along. they sat down, Peppino stuffing himself in the shadow of the corner, while Gustavo patted his shoulder with a warm smile, asking Peppino what he would like to drink.

Peppino told him his order, Gustavo left for the bar, and Peppino was alone. he shifted his eyes here and there, beads of sweat beginning to form on his face, as he darted between each Shrimp that laughed too loudly, or each Demon that raised their voice just a touch too high, or each Fork Knight that slammed their fork against the table (and really, why did they bring their fork to a pub?). the volume of the occupants, the smell of mixed cocktails, the largeness of the room; it wasn't doing his head nor his anxiety any favours. he very quickly found that he wanted to leave.

'well hey there Mr Italian man!' a squeaky voice spoke directly from his right, and he screamed his signature scream, swinging his arm out. there was a yelp as his arm wooshed through empty air. he felt like he was about to pass out. 'geez, I didn't mean to scare ya like that!!!' he turned his head to look at the stranger, and saw someone with a too wide grin and too small eyes looking back at him. a messy tuft of black hair, a suit that was way too large for his small form, a face full of freckles.

he had no idea who this guy was.

with a huff of laughter, the stranger slid into the seat across from him, a Martini glass in hand. still reeling from the sudden adrenaline rush, Peppino glared him down, alternating between wanting to fling himself across the table at him, or bolt clear from the building.

'I ain't used to seein' you out and about like this! what's the occasion, eh?' the man sipped his drink with a massive smile, looking him dead in the eye, not caring that Peppino was steaming with fear and rage. taking a deep breath, Peppino tried to ease the tension from his highly hunched shoulders.

'I was, uh. invited, I, I'm sorry, who are you?' the longer Peppino stared, the more confused he grew. this man wasn't from the tower was he? he didn't recall seeing him anywhere; so why did he seem to know Peppino? the mans face alternated between shocked, insulted, and confused, before settling on pure elation, his teeth going sharp and devilish. it only made Peppino more anxious than he already was.

'my names James! I saw some of your ads for ya pizza place, but I didn't know I'd meet you in a place like this!' he racked his brain and still came up empty, because this man had never visited his parlour, either.

'oh. 'kay.' Peppino slowly said.

'yep!' the man replied.

the quiet chatter and soft clinks of the bar filled in their awkward silence. Peppino wrung his hands together under the table, while the man knocked the miniature umbrella about. he wondered what was taking Gustavo so long. without knowing it, the stranger saved him from sinking into his man-made hysteria of being abandoned at the pub.

'say, are you familiar with that Noise guy?' the mere mention of the name had Peppino recoil with a violent sneer. it made the man laugh. 'I figured you were! well, what if I told ya that I know some’a his battle plans?' Peppino raised a brow at him, and the stranger leaned in. 'swear down I do! I think it could be worth ya while!' Peppino visibly thought about it. it didn't take him long to settle on his answer.

'I'm listening.' ------------ Peppino and "James" bumped into each other a week later, where a slumped, obviously upset Peppino sat alone, in the same place they had first met. Gustavo, once again, was occupied at the bar's counter, happily chatting to the shrimp that was serving other occupants their drinks. Peppino seemed to sense "James" this time, turning an eye to face the grinning man, who easily slid into the seat across from him. he didn't have a glass with him this time, and was wearing the same brand of suit as before, only this time, it was an obnoxious purple rather than an ugly yellow.

'hey there Italian man!'

'hello, James.'

'how'd ya fight with ol' Noisey go?'

'how'd you know we got in a fight?' a bout of nervousness crossed "James'" face that was waved off within the same second.

'phaaa, everyone knows that you fight that guy at least once a week. it's common knowledge here!' Peppino frowned, thought it over, did a slight shrug and a small hum. 'so er, I'm takin' it you lost? you've got a face like a slapped arse.'

'it's like he knew exactly what I was gonna do!' Peppino immediately vented. 'he read me like a god damn book the entire time!'

'ooh, bummer. you should try getting somewhere high up next time; I hear that his balloon has a hard time getting good heights.'

'how do you know so much about him?'

'you could say that I have a kind of rivalry with him, too.' Peppino's eye gained a shine.

'we should team up then!' to which "James" laughed him off.

'nah, my rivalry ain't quite the same as yours. ours is more for fun, y'know?'

Peppino deflated onto the table. "James" leaned over and lightly patted his shoulder. ---------------------- Peppino was drunk. he wasn't drunk, he was absolutely blasted. his vision swam, his body felt akin to jelly, his brain was mush and his thoughts were scrambled. sounds and smells slurred together into a haze of nothing, a thick warmness coursing through his chest and spreading through his limbs that made the rest of him sluggish and tired. was he laid out on the table, or sat up? was he staring at the wood of the table, or at his own brown trousers? was his glass half empty, or full? how much had he even had to drink? he tried to focus on how many glasses there were, but found that he couldn't focus on a single one.

'uh, Peppino?' ooh, he knew that voice, that was James! he liked James. he was nice. weird, and somehow really familiar, but nice. not Gustavo nice, who was being nice for the sake of being polite, and not Vigilante nice, where it was obviously faked for the sake of being civil. no, James was just. nice. nice to talk to, nice to sit with, nice to be around. 'geez, are you alri-'

'Jaaaaames' Peppino blindly reached out, hands landing on the course material of James' suit. in a brash display of affection he would never ever do while sober, he curled his arms around James and pulled him in, giggling the entire time. James, stunned by the sudden motion, had no choice but to allow himself be tugged down into Peppino's personal space, where he practically fell into Peppino's lap. Peppino sunk into him, head lolling on James’ shoulder, hands bunched at his back.

'cheesus crust Peppino, how much have you had?'

'liiiiiiiiiike, two.'

'two what?? gallons??' Peppino laughed, bright and loud. he stunk to high heaven of beer. James, desperately, reached into his pocket for his phone. the only way he could use it was to return Peppino's drunken hug, and the gesture made Peppino hum with satisfaction.

SUPATERSTAR95: help

CoffeeRabbit: =O!!! whats wrong??!?!

SUPERSTAR95: i lied to pepino he think im some1 else he drunk as fuck

CoffeeRabbit: what the fuck teddy y wud u lie!!!!! >=(

SUPERSTAR95: it was funny =( how do i tel him

CoffeeRabbit: ur on ur own!!!

SUPERSTAR95: babe plssssss he wont let go of me and i dont want 2 fite in middle of pub

CoffeeRabbit: ON UR OWN!!!!!!!

he sighed. Peppino still held him in his iron grip. he awkwardly put his phone away, and timidly put his hands on Peppino’s back, like the act itself would burn him.

'uh, listen, Peppino,'

'hmm mmmmmmmmmmm'

'I'm not. I ain't. my name isn't James, it's uh. ...’ god, it had been such a good idea at the time. why did the Italian have to go and get drunk? that ruined everything. ‘I'm Noise.'

'huh.'

'yeah, I uh. it was a prank. like it wasn't- I didn't mean for it to be a prank, but I figured it'd be funny to. y'know.' ever so slowly, Peppino pulled the Noise away, holding him out at arms length. he squinted at Noise, trying really hard to see, before his mouth opened in an "O" shape. wobbly hands cupped the Noise's face, tilting him this and that a-way, before lightly slapping one cheek and re-wrapping his arms around the Noise, pulling him back in for a hug. the Noise would have fled then and there, if not for that series of actions. why the fuck did Peppino have to be a cuddly drunk?

'I kneeeeeeeeeew you looked familar. that’s how ya knew my every move too!'

'... I uh. I figured that you'd be. ... mad.'

'oh I am. I'm so fucking mad at you Noise. I'm so fucking angry at you. you are so lucky that I'm drunk.' oh he had sounded stone sober saying that. he's gonna kick my arse flat.

they stay like that for a few more minutes; Peppino holding Noise, Noise awkwardly balancing himself atop Peppino. his face felt on-fire, and his legs were starting to get numb.

'how long've you been here anyway? I can take you home as an. ...’ he grit his teeth. ‘... apology.' the word was almost spit from Noise's mouth, and Peppino giggled again, all hints of his soberness disappearing.

'les' go grab Gus and go home.'

Noise helped Peppino to his feet, where Peppino slung a heavy arm across Noise's shoulders, leaning his entire weight onto him (on purpose, Noise couldn’t help but notice), and together, the two shambled to the bars counter, where a half asleep Gustavo was sprawled.

'GUS.'

'ooooh hello Peppiiiiii.' Gustavo turned around, his moustache lined with beer foam. he lazily looked between Peppino and Noise, and his grin only seemed to grow wider. 'hello Noiseeeeee.'

'what- how'd'cha know it's him????' Peppino blanked.

'you're just an idiot, Italian.'

'you look WEIRD without your costume.'

‘and it’s weird seeing you drunk, now come on, I ain’t got all day.’

----

here’s what happens - I write something, I make it WAY too long, and then I don’t know how to rightly finish it. anyway my headcanon is that Peppino genuinely doesn’t recognize Noise outside of his costume; Noise isn’t being malicious per say, he just didn’t figure that Peppino would be so touchy feely, so he feels immediently bad when he realises how much Peppino considers his fake persona as a friend

yeeaaaaaow