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GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest. 

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to  buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry. 

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly  you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats. 

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it�� sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. 

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…” 

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff  noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?” 

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.” 

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?” 

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat. 

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”  

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet. 

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in. 

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.”  He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded  pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing  into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains. 

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.” 

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed. 

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

[trendgifting]

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[bhaalsbabe]

Not all gifts are appreciated

Pairing: pre-tadpole gn!Durge x Enver Gortash

Word count: ~700

Summary/warnings: my thoughts on how the rule of "not meddling with each other's business" came to be; MDNI, mentions of killing, brief gore description, suggestive at the end, Durge origin spoilers

Perfect, you thought to yourself as you arranged a corpse in front of Gortash's desk. You made it sit upright, you made sure it could be seen right from the door that it's missing the mandible. The rest of the body was covered in cuts of various sizes from when you toyed with it, the dried blood proof that they were done when the old man still breathed. You were proud of your handiwork as per usual and you couldn't wait for Gortash to see it too. You paced around the small office, unable to hold back your excitement. When your sharp senses heard approaching footsteps, you could discern from the walking pattern that it's the recipient of your gift. You stopped pacing, pulling yourself together to look more like the Chosen of Bhaal people usually got to see. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open.

"What's th-" Gortash stopped, looking at the corpse in shock, then at the smiling you.

"I've brought you a gift!" You exclaimed, still smiling. "You said he was too much of a hassle, and how you wished he would just stop babbling and die already. Well - he won't be a problem now. See-" You nudged the exposed mouth with your foot, the head rolling to the side as you disturbed the precarious balance. "He won't be able to speak anymore, ever! Aren't you happy?" You beamed at him, like a child showing a picture they've drawn to their parent.

Gortash's perfect facade disappeared as his face contorted in anger. "Happy? You fucking IDIOT! I almost had him sign the deal. Do you have any idea how long it took me to convince old Irlentree to make me his main supplier?!" He raised his voice, still holding a bit of control over his emotions even if he was beyond pissed at the moment. "I had a feeling you might have been the one behind his disappearance but I thought - hoped - you were smarter than that." He rubbed his face in frustration. "And to bring his corpse to MY office too, have you finally lost your mind? This could easily incriminate me and ruin my entire life's work!" He walked towards you menacingly, staring daggers at your face.

You just shrugged it off, however. "Oh stop being so dramatic. I can move lifeless bodies between various locations without being seen." You wrapped your arm around his burly shoulders, bringing him closer to you. "Just tell me a name and I'll make sure they're the one getting framed for this murder. An assassination on the head of a noble house is nothing new, you wouldn't believe how often we get contracts like that. So, calm down, Enver, hm?" You kissed his lips softly, making him focus on you and your body instead of the anger your actions caused him. He tried to push you away, weakly and half-heartedly, before relenting and accepting your advances. You smiled, pulling away after a minute or two of kissing. You patted his head affectionately. "There you go~"

"Let's set up a new rule though. If we are to work together, we won't meddle in each other's businesses anymore. You'll leave the politics to me while I'll leave the cult's dealings to you." You just nodded, clearly not really listening or taking his words to heart, instead you leaned in to kiss him again but he stopped you, pressing his fingers to your lips. "I'm serious. No more murders of my potential business partners, no matter how helpful you think you're being. If I need such service, you're the first one I'll go to and then we'll talk. Understood?" He used his commanding voice at you and you had to control yourself to not grin. He was just so adorable, how he thought he had power over you when you could easily slit his throat before he could even realise what's happening. And yet you decided to cooperate. He pulled his hand away to let you speak.

"I understand." You agreed, your hand coming to play with his messy black hair. "Now let's figure out what to do with this old geezer and then you can reward me for my hard work, hm~?"

He snorted and chucked, shaking his head in disbelief. He let his hands brush over your hips, squeezing them teasingly, before letting you go. "Fine. I already have a few ideas for both."

[thatwritterbeach]

So About that Alley .4

Jason Todd x ofc Alex

Dc masterlist ALL OTHER PARTS FOUND HERE

Unedited***Also I swear Tumblr is messing up my spelling on purpose cuz everytime I re-read something I know I fixed it's wrong again

Alex: short, curvy, red hair, green eyes, redheads go through pain meds way faster than normal people to the point I personally don't even take them, it's a joke, they last 30 min at best

Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.

Warnings: Vaginismus* angst, sexual assault, self-harm, depression, drug use by Alex, violence, cursing, NSFW, smut, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, guided masturbation?, p in v (not overly described), pain during s*x, hiding said pain, hickeys?, self-hate, insecurities, eating disorder, weight loss

A/N: I do not own dc booho

sorry ya'll I did not mean to release the last part, it was gonna be longer so here's this one at top speed

Arriving at a huge menacing manor, the Wayne manor, in your pajamas on the back of a motorcycle while the driver is decked out in bright right flannel is...odd. Jason held the bike steady while she wiggled off then he engaged the kickstand and lifted himself off with ease. Alfred met them at the door and took her gear and Jay's helmet.

"Everyone is in the dining room, master Jason."

"Thanks, Alfred." Alex, unsure what to do gave him a thankful nod and clung to Jason as he led them through the maze of insanity.

"I don't think I can do this Jay," sh whispered, slinging the large bag she carried further up on her shoulder.

"Of course, you can," he assured her pulling her further into his side. They entered what she would calla dining hall where everyone was already sat, having what appeared to be a heated argument.

"I win the bet, cuz I said she was real," Tim yelled.

"No, I win for being right about how long it would take him to bring her here," Dick said back throwing a chunk of bread at him.

"Boys!" Bruce tried in vain.

"I win-" Damian began but was cut of by Jason's two finger whistle. All eyes shot to the door where Alex was very busy faking confidence, moved away from Jay, shoulders back, head up. Bruce was in a suit much to her embarrassment but Dick was in sweats and a long sleeved shirt, Tim wore something similar, and Damian was in a matching silk set that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe but he was participating.

"Tt she's small," Damian scowled.

"I think you mean short, like you pipsqueak," she snarked back before Jason could get after the demon spawn.

"Hhhmf," he replied raising his chin to the side in a holyer than though manner.

"Play nice, Damian," Bruce commanded softly rising from the table to greet her. Mentally freaking out, knowing what was coming she hesitated in her step to meet his outstreched hand.

"Not a friend of Dick's then," he accused, scowling down at her superman shirt.

"I didn't know if you were aware Jason was alive." She lied her ass off. She just recently found out he was Robin so of course she couldn't have told Batman anything other than a lie. Jason caught the inconstancy and frowned.

"What are you talking about," Dick asked joining their little group.

"Caught this one in an alley with a dealer last night, said she knew you, as Robin, Wing and Dick."

"How did you-" He turned an accusing eye on Jason who lifted his hands in defense.

"I've known for years dude, chill. It's not that hard to figure out, the suspiciously large and rich family is the suspiciously large and tech happy hero group."

"So you know everyone?"

"Yep, Superman and everyone too. "

"Dang," Tim jumped in from his seat.

"Why were you in an alley with a dealer," Jason asked what everyone was thinking.

"Getting information before some dude in a cape messed it up." Another lie.

"info on what?"

"His supplier."

"That's my job." She shrugged and moved past everyone to the table.

"I come barring gifts," she said setting the bag on the table to pull things out. "For Dick, a signed copy of (insert circus memorabilia here), for Tim, something to help you sleep and some very strong tea to help with that caffeine addiction. Damian, a travel sized chess board, we can play sometime if you like."

"Thanks," came the collective reply. Jason was still giving her the ' we will talk about this at home look' but she was ignoring him as she sat. After a surprisingly painless dinner with Damian only insulting her three times, Jason standing with a knife in hand, and Dick calming everyone back down they managed to make it to dessert.

"None for me," she told Alfred quietly as he started to place a bowl of some fancy pastries in front of her. She'd already subtly inquired on the carb count of the food which he answered with a slight brow raise.

"You feeling ok," Jason asked from beside her happily munching on his and her portion of sugar.

"Fine," she replied with a soft smile reaching past her full wine glass for water. She never drank and certainly not when she knew she was going to have to drug herself the second they walked into her apartment.

"If you don't like red we have white," Dick said, gesturing to her glass.

"I don't drink."

"Oh, master Jason didn't tell me."

"Sorry, must have slipped my mind." Like hell, he had no idea she didn't drink, he's never seen her drink but just assumed...what he wasn't sure but not that she didn't drink. Dessert done they moved to the 'sitting room' with some sodas, and Alfred plated soft soft music in the background.

"care to test your new board," she asked Damian.

"Tt, like you would be a worthy opponent."

"It's ok if you're too chicken, I get it, I'm intimidating." she said flexing her muscles. With an eye roll he sat cross legged on the floor and began setting up the pieces. She mirrored his pose and set up her side. off to the side where she couldn't see Jason moved his head to indicate to Dick he needed a word and the two moved off without a sound.

"Thanks for the clothes," Jason started, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall of the long hallway they were in.

"No problem, did she seem more relaxed?"

"Better than expected."

"So what was it you wanted to ask me that couldn't be texted?"

"When I...died, were you sad?"

"What the hell kind of question is that, Jason, of course, I was a wreck. What's going on, are you ok?"

"I am."

"But you don't think she is," he stated.

"I think she'd lying about when she found out I was hood. Three weeks ago I got so beat up from a fight I knew I wouldn't make it anywhere else so I broke into her apartment, key work broke, I had to shatter a window she was pissed. And she found me passed out in the bathroom, and started stitching me up-"

"Dude," he whisper yelled.

"Let me finish. She was talking to me like I was redhood not like she knew it was me, she was asking for advice."

"On what?"

"How to tell her boyfriend she couldn't have sex, because she was," he paused and pulled Dick closer to him to whisper the next part," assaulted when she was younger and it makes it horribly painful."

"No, did she tell you who?"

"He's dead."

"Good."

"She also said she cuts herself," again the smallest whisper.

"Why would she tell him and not you?"

"The next day she said she knew I was hood all along and she was playing a sick joke to get back at me for breaking her window and lying."

"Rude but seems fair."

"Then she initiated sex. Just pulled me into the bedroom and-"

"I don't wanna hear this,"Dick whines shaking his head to clear the image.

"We've had sex everyday twice for three weeks in a row," he said exasperated.

"That's..."

"A lot, it's a lot so either she has insane drive or..."

"She's expertly distracting you," he finished for him.

"I haven't seen any scars or fresh cuts, but I know she's damn good at makeup she's always perfectly covered my scar," he said pointing to his cheek, where it wasn't even visible in the low light.

"So hide her makeup."

"I've thought about it but I don't want to tip her off, or make her panic."

"So you want my help?"

"I think," deep breath," I think I can't do this alone, I can't watch her 24/7 and be there when she might need me."

"Do you want her to move in here?"

"God no, she'd kill me. Maybe now that you've all met you could invite her over, or stop by 'randomly' when I'm out."

"I'm in bloodhaven now, I can't just-"

"I know, I know, but you're here like every other weekend and that'll have to be enough. Maybe the demon spawn would agree to watch her."

"Tt, she's not your pet, Todd," came an irritated voice next to them.

"How much did you hear?"

"Just that she'd kill you." Eye roll.

"She's not well, demon spawn, and I worry about her safety," Jason ground out trying to keep his voice down.

"You think she hurts herself, what insanity, even for you, Todd."

"Look, kid-"

"Don't start. Damian, you seem to tolerate her enough not to kill her, a win if you ask me, and she needs company while Jason is out. You really can't stop by once a week for chess?"

"As a favor to her, not either of you," he agreed, turning to leave the imbeciles.

Eventually making their way back into the room the boys were shocked to find Alex, still on the floor, body pointed to the tv playing a racing game with Tim. Single handing the controller she expertly steered around the corners and used her other hand to play Damian at chess, eye dancing back and forth, and maintaining a conversation with Bruce.

"What the fuck," Jason exclaimed.

"I used to do this all the time, well not this, but multitasking, it's been so long since I've gotten to use my brain," she said with such glee.

"Are you saying I dumb you down?" There was no real hurt in voice, just un-subtle awe.

"Love you too." She replied and went back to talking to Bruce about...politics? She was talking politics with the vigilante billionaire and it was civil! The game ended, with Alex in 1st and Tim hung his head in shame but ultimately leaned over to shake her hand.

"Tt, so incompetent she beat you one handed," Damian accused.

"Tough talk for somebody that just set me up to take four pieces," she tsked back at him.

"Shit," Damian muttered uncharacteristically.

"Language," Dick said with a laugh.

"Boop, boop, boop," Alex sang as she hopped a single checker around the board taking the last of Damian's pieces.

"I suppose you're competent."

"Why thank you," she mock bowed. "Care to try your luck," she directed at Dick who was leaning on the arm of a large comfy looking chair.

"Why not, you gonna play Tim and Damian at the same time to at least give me a small chance?"

"If you want?" He nodded so she helped Damian set up a second board of checkers just a few inches from the first so she wouldn't have to move. Dick shrank practically had to fold himself to fit on the floor and only slightly invaded Damian's space, not on purpose.

Again she won on all fronts and Jason was practically buzzing with pride.

"You never told me you were smart!" At the look she sent him he waved his hands quickly. "No wait! Not how I meant it, of course you're smart."

"Such a way with words," she praised helping clean up the games.

"Are you leaving," Tim whined.

"I gotta work tomorrow, sorry kiddo."

"I'm like a year younger than Jason."

"A small child," Dick said wiping a fake tear.

"But a small boy," Jason reiterated.

"Hardly out of a booster seat," Bruce joined.

"It was only yesterday I was helping you into a chair master Tim."

"I hate you all."

"Aww, he loves us," Alex cooed reaching over to pinch his cheek," and fyi I'm two years older than Jason."

"Practically a cougar, I felt hunted when she asked me out."

"Yeah, why did I do that again?"

"You got me," Dick seriously stated.

"Tt, she would never chase you Todd, I bet you had to beg for this lovely creature."

"What he said," she agreed pulling Damian into a crushing hug resting her chin on his shoulder since the were the same height. Everyone held their breath expecting a fight but he looped his arms around her and squeezed back, just for a second before wiggling away from her in over-exaggerated disgust.

"I demand a rematch this Thursday," he said curtly and left the room.

"Thank you for coming," Bruce said shaking her hand in an awkward manner.

"Come visit anytime," Dick said pulling her into a hug, and extra long one just to make Jason's eye twitch.

"Let me know when you're online," Tim softly demanded with a hug.

"I don't have any online games, still use my old GameCube and Wii."

"That's cool."

Finally making it out the door she resisted the urge to exhale in relief. Wary of Jason getting concerned.

"That went well," he remarked upon entering her apartment.

"It did," she said softly faking a yawn in hopes of him heading back to his place or insisting they turn in. He went back and forth between their apartments, needing to keep a space for all his gear.

"So about that alley?"

"Not tonight, please."

"Why were you out at all?"

"Red hood is big and scary and gets what he wants with fear yes?"

"I guess?"

"So, short redhead come around asking what you sell and for how much what do you assume."

"That you aren't a threat," he conceded with a scowl.

"so if the short none-threat asks innocent sounding questions like. I may need some tomorrow where are you gonna be, my friend wants to buy but can't leave his place any chance you make house calls. I'm looking for a side job any chance I can meet the boss for an interview?"

"You didn't."

"I did, maybe, he's getting back with me." Lie lie lie.

"I'm going."

"You are not, if they even think I've been tailed you might as well shoot me yourself, I can handle it, if I can't I know how to get in touch. Now please let's go to bed." The whine in her tone made him cave, for now. Thanking her lucky stars he was tired and they skipped the sex she fell into the deepest sleep she'd had in months.

8-10-24 see masterlist for more

[aqupistau]

— ☕️ⸯⸯ : unintentional﹙dks﹚

warnings: implied smut, profanity, fingering, and masturbation

genre & trope: suggestive and neighbors!AU

pairing: do kyungsoo x f!reader

word count: 3.03k (edited)

synopsis. your first impression of your neighbor didn't end well for you, but it was the opposite for him. after eavesdropping his conversation about you next door and him singing a song of romantic interest for you—lyrics filled with undressing you off in your Versace dress, you gain the same pining for him and end up following every lyrics of his song.

Surely, this state will be enough to cause a hangover once you wake up tomorrow. You thought to yourself, palm on your forehead, wishing for the elevator to reach the current floor you're staying temporarily. 

Oddly, the air in the hallways felt warm, so you removed your coat, revealing a body-hugging Versace chainmail dress your generous friend who offered you to wear tonight for clubbing.

Earlier morning, you had a petty argument with her. When she would give you her Versace things, it would always consist of you not accepting them since they were very expensive, to passive-aggressive threats you'd receive from her, then to her gleefully seeing you in Versace, your bag heavy with her gifts. You didn't have to buy clothes at all. You had a supplier of your things for free. 

You were on a business trip for this month, consisting of attending board meetings, reviewing proposals, and sharing a drink and good conversation with special sponsors. Since everyone was given a week of rest, the same friend insisted on taking you out clubbing tonight and also invited your other friends. It took you a minute to contemplate if you should take today to only sleep, but you loved a good drink and company, so you eventually agreed. Leading you to this bad state of headache from alcohol.

As you safely reach your room and input your pin on the door lock, you feel a figure on your right, and you take a look only to see the dreaded person you didn't want to meet during your stay in this hotel—your neighbor.

You're staying in a good small three-star hotel, and all of the services were fair quality, so you hadn't thought of any disruption when staying here, except for one. Your neighbor, a great singer, truly, is a nuisance just by singing karaoke in the dead of the night. The walls of the hotel rooms were thick enough not to hear conversations, so it meant that your neighbor was just that loud.

Imagine going back to your bed only to hear your neighbor disrupting it with their hobby of singing karaoke heartily before going to sleep. Honestly, you also guessed that you would be sleeping at the same time as him, ruining your sleeping schedule. Even some point on those nights, instead of being irritated when you were already prepared for a good night's sleep, you would wonder if they just recently had a breaking point like a heartbreak with those sad ballads. He was singing his heart out to Bruno Mars, but you needed your goddamn sleep.

You thought of some options to stop this, and it only led you to the solution of switching rooms. But it would be far-fetched since the only available ones were far from your budget.

And there you were, waiting for a good chance to complain about the noise, but the noise your neighbor has been making isn't that loud for the other neighbors to complain. You also didn't have any proper decorum at night to complain to your neighbor, and you were always busy during the day, so you had to shelve all of your ill temper inside you. 

Still not noticing your presence, you take in all the information of him. Average in height and an all-black comfy outfit of hoodie and sweatpants. Understandable for someone who would sing the blues in the middle of the night. Yet, your senses start to tingle. Your knack for recognizing attractive people could detect that he was more attractive underneath this cover-up, even if we were from a bird's eye away.

Strong hands and fingers with years of experience as a musician swiftly type down his door pin, and his hand forms firm fists, his knuckles prominent as he holds down his door handles. He's about to enter his space when he notices your presence. And finally, you know the face of your nuisance of a neighbor, which might turn quite a turn starting this moment.

The neighbor was a new face of attractiveness you'd never seen before. Dark and formed eyebrows beneath the straight black fringe, drawing you down to his large moon-shaped eyes with full black irises that sparkle from the light reflected off your dress. You trace your eyes down from his nose to the most striking aspect of his face; his heart-shaped pink lips parted like cushions of velvet when caressed.

He realizes a bit late of your stares, making him bow, a gush of warmth rushing up to his ears as he greets a good evening.

Snapping back to reality, you also bow, struggling to straighten yourself from the alcohol in your system.

"Good evening," you greeted back as you stood straight up, and he smiled idly, reciprocating the greeting.

"Kyungsoo? Is that you?" a man from his apartment called out. 

"Yeah," he replied back, quickly bowed at you again, mumbling a goodbye, then entered his room hurriedly.

Too bad, you thought. A part of you wished you could observe him more to satisfy the curiosity that the 'once' dreaded neighbor was actually a sight to behold, but the remaining half just wanted to take a good hot bath and bury yourself on the soft mattress of your bed. 

You shrugged it off, deciding to surrender to the latter choice, and entered your apartment, dropping your purse on the couch and your body followed.

As you looked around your space, you feel a bit empty just from the difference of the fun energy from clubbing and this bare hotel room. Nothing was in your room to feel like you were home, and you were feeling like you were living in a blank space these past few days.

Empty tables and countertops greeting you every morning is starting to suck off the energy you regained *barely* from sleep. Missing the familiarness and coziness of your home, and most importantly—"Fuck. All this clubbing makes me wanna get laid so badly." 

I mean, how could you blame yourself? Lewd scenes in the club of people getting drunk and making out on the dance floor, and then when you're fed up with that scene and decide to take a tinkle, you go to the restroom only to see another cluster of people getting drunk and making out. The worst is hearing grunts and skins slapping in the women's bathroom.

Just how are you supposed to compose yourself? Being surrounded by horny people made you horny too. You're human.

Ding. Notifications from your phone on the couch pop up, and you check out what's happening. They were pictures sent by your friends in the group chat, all of you just having fun drinking in the VIP section, along with texts if everybody got home safely, and you noticed yourself in those pictures. 

The long deliberation of wearing this iconic Versace chainmail dress your friend told you to wear and ending up wearing it was worth it. This dress attracted many lookers on you tonight, and your friends teased how you were practically glowing with the dress.

You can't help but take advantage of the remaining glamor you feel with yourself and also the desire to please yourself tonight. So you dim the lights of your room, and you hear the noise of an electric guitar chord tuning from your beloved neighbor.

You groaned in frustration and punched the air toward your neighbor's place. "You may have attracted me on our first encounter, but you're still good at being an ass." But this action alone of trying to argue with your neighbor's walls is helpless, so you slumped on the couch again and stared off into space. 

"The guitar solo on this song is so good, I swear. It's good that you picked this song for a starter in your plans to be a musician." The muffled noise turned clear, hearing them from an unmistakable sound of speakers. They were using fucking microphones. 

"Yeah, hopefully this would be a good song for my audition. I've been practicing my vocals for a while now, so I might as well pursue it." You almost calmed down hearing the neighbor's deep calm voice, followed by the melody of a familiar intro of a song on a synth piano.

The sound of romantic and dreamy enter your senses, and you place your ear on the wall to listen more closely. You can't pinpoint what this song's title was, but you know that it is pretty famous.

The other voice that wasn't your neighbor interrupted, "Let’s start filming the practice? I think we’re ready to record." Then the synth stopped, a pout on your lips formed unconsciously, and you strayed away from the wall in defeat.

"Sure, but before we start recording, I saw my neighbor by the door earlier…." 

Me? you thought, eyebrows furrowed with curiosity.

Silence and a deep sigh engulfed it. The neighbor continued, "I think it was her first time to see me and her dress tonight…it looked so perfect on her, like it was tailored for her only. It also looked expensive like all of the past clothes she wore, and there is always the familiar scent of—" 

"Versace?" The friend finished.

"Yes. Exactly." 

"That's why you picked this song. So then, what did you do?" The friend continued, full of expectations. 

"I bowed, greeted a good evening, and immediately went inside since you called out for me."

"Kyungsoo?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You're an idiot."

"Pfft—" you snorted, glad that you held yourself back by covering your mouth.

"What do you mean?" Kyungsoo asked innocently, clearly showing no signs of remorse for his actions. You never knew your neighbor was so naive, especially when his songs, besides the ballads, were always passionate soul and R&B music. 

"What do you mean? Are you serious—You're hopeless, Do Kyungsoo" and silence. The friend was too stunned to speak, even to inform Kyungsoo what he had just lost.

“...”

"Would you like to practice before we record?" Kyungsoo blurted out.

"Yes, please."

The dreamy tune of the synth goes again, and a specific key of the synth feels like Kyungsoo was about to start singing until you hear the first stanza. You're frozen, silenced. This is Bruno Mars' song, but neither is it about the blues nor the music of a broken-hearted man.

So this was it, the reason why this melody was so familiar. It’s Versace on the Floor. The dim lights of your room, the smooth and sensual synth piano, and his voice, like the color of the finest silks of green, set the caress atmosphere. You've always heard him singing passionately, but this vibration and temperature of emotion were much unlike his past way of singing. 

As you struggle to catch your breath, a growing sensation builds, the feeling of weight getting heavier as you struggle to dedicate yourself to listening to his serenades alone. Thoughts of him on your first meeting start to swarm up every corridor of your mind, and you lean your back to the wall. Eyes closed and hands to your chest, grasping the hem of your dress to fully immerse yourself with the walls that seem to be the only separation of your longing and lust for pleasure.

Realization of reality opens your eyes to the current situation. Was this just a coincidence? Versace, the conversation about you, and this song. Wait—is this song actually for you? 

A fit of laughter of disbelief escapes from your lips, the tip of your tongue poking your inner cheek. The alcohol must have reached your rationality, though this doesn't stop you from entertaining the thought of just hearing his intentions to undress the sight of you in your Versace dress, tingling you with excitement.

But this isn't right. You convinced yourself. This is uncalled for. How can you lust on a man you just met?

The headache from the alcohol disperses and a new sensation replaces it. Your legs and arms go weak, and you slowly fall on your carpet as the chorus ends and another verse comes.

There was nothing to stop you, yet still you worried if this song was supposed to be dedicated to you. You groaned in frustration, and gave up, following his explicit instructions, unzipping the zipper from your back, the sound of a smooth zipper gliding down along the lines of your spine. In a trice, the nipple covers on your breasts are long gone, and you shiver from the nakedness of your chest; the tip of the nipples achingly hardens from the coldness of visibility. 

Kyungsoo's voice still reverberates clearly despite the thick walls and sensual lyrics of the following verse of the song filling the air as he sings about tender intimacy. You lick your fingers and imagine him kissing you bold, tracing down from the curvature of your neck to the enticing slopes of your shoulders. It didn’t matter how graphic and lewd he’d sing about the curves of your body, the assurance of your unquestioned beauty heard sincerely. 

To him, you were his muse. He reveres and divines your every composition, turning you into hymns of his desperation to touch you. You were a spec of his imagination in his eyes, the belladonna of what he can’t even grasp his dreams to be with. The sultriness of his voice chants of kissing you naked, undressing in your dress, and you hum in contentment, brushing your agitated nipple, igniting a symphony of pleasure within you from the light contact.

Every inch of you quivers, delicious temptations of touching yourself, hypnotizing your sanity, and the morals you've put yourself to protect crumble down. A great requirement of satisfaction has been set upon you, earning for you to yearn more, itching to caress the warm existence between your legs.

You wanted to feel his emotions. No, instead, you needed him to look at you with those large radiant eyes to look straight into yours without any hint of hesitance behind them and touch you with those carefully carved hands on every part of you. And with that voice, that heavenly blessed voice, if he was here with you, you'd fawn over him as he barely touches his velvet lips on your ears, whispering sweet praises slowly leading to merely sweet nothings of your existing beauty.

Amidst the yearning for him, do you hear the sweet guitar solo you've forgotten existed in the song, the long tolerance of your refusal of self-satisfaction vanishing. You readied, your hand busy teasing your erected breast and the other pulling down the remaining dress that covered the rest of you. You shut your eyes closed, feeling your hesitant cold hands go near between your thighs, landing to touch your clit, and a hiss comes out of your mouth from the touch.

Hallucinations of Kyungsoo in front of you, observing you just like how you imagined him to be, with anticipation, with eagerness. You spread your legs wide and leniently stroked your clit, capturing you with an airy moan, a rush of ecstasy from your cunt to your arms. Shortly, your patience goes dry, gaining more momentum and force to your strokes, knees buckling, and your legs surging from high. 

You feel it coming close, and you stop yourself from the pleasure as he sings the song's ending chorus. Quickly you grab the nearest pillow from the couch and sit on it, legs on either side of the pillow and start humping. The interrupted orgasm recovers, and you think of how erotic and ludicrous you are, pleasuring yourself just by the voice of a neighbor you once hated, which turned out to be the man of your ideals. 

Kyungsoo belts out the song's last note, and you whimper, nearing your orgasm. You stifle out a noticeable mewl as you orgasm, and you immediately cover your mouth, hoping that it wasn't heard, especially by your neighbor. 

"Fuck, no, no, no," you mumbled repeatedly and lay dead on the carpet, body weak from bliss. 

"That was amazing! I think you're good to go for the audition already, Kyungsoo. Would you like another go? Just to make sure," The friend complimented Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo remained quiet, and you felt every nerve of your body growing cold. 

"Soo?"

"Yeah. Can we record in your studio instead? I wanna hear my voice clearer." 

"Sure. I'll just meet you on the ground floor since I'll be starting up the car." 

"Okay." The sound of a door swinging open next door is the last sound you hear. 

It was just the two of you left, and it felt awkward even though you were technically in different rooms, but it felt like you were in the same space, feeling the tension and being the only ones aware of it. You pursed your lips and exhaled to relieve your nerves, neglecting your eavesdropping. 

Better take a bath, sleep in the comfort of your bed, just like you planned, and pretend nothing happened. Yes, that's good for now.

Knock knock. That sound definitely didn't come from your phone, nor was it an alarm clock you hopefully set by this hour for no reason. It was from the door. Your door specifically.

You hastened in wearing your nipple covers and wore your dress again, wearing a cardigan from the hanger near the door. You braced yourself from what you might see from the door viewer, and you tiptoed, seeing from the small hole the neighbor, in the same clothes earlier, his chin rested anxiously on his hand.

Shit, you cursed under your breath and tried to fix your hair and cover the skin showing on your chest with your cardigan. You slowly opened the door, and the neighbor didn't expect you'd even open the door.

"Uhm, can I help you?" You asked, and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he attempted again.

"I…" Your eyes grow larger as you expect his response, looking straight to his eyes that wander around, trying to find answers from everywhere until he meets your eyes, and something bursts.

The both of you crash into each other's lips simultaneously as if knowing each other's pursuits of lust, rashed and rough, inhaling only the oxygen that suffices from one another.

Kyungsoo grabs hold of your waist and pulls it near, an indecent sigh coming out from the kiss. 

"Sir—" 

"Kyungsoo." he breathes deeply, out of breath. "Call me Kyungsoo." 

© aqupistau. all rights reserved. ↬ masterlist

[tomura-complex]

"I do"

A/N: Just a short drabble about Tomura that lives in my head rent free. Please enjoy <3 Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki X Reader Warning: Marriage stuf, but pure fluff

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You joined the league a long time ago. Around the same time as Toga and Dabi and you saw them all like a family. You were their healer and supplier. You always cared for them and waited for them to return from their missions. Tended to their wounds and problems. You and Dabi were always helping each other out but sometimes many snarl comments flew by. Spinner was your favorite gamer and training with him was always fun. Toga and Twice were their best friends. They always cheered you up. Kurogiri always had your back. He was a dad person. You helped him as much as you could. Magne was also great. She was the one that helped you with everyone and talking with her was so relaxing. And then it was him. Tomura Shigaraki. You had a crush on him from the beginning. Telling him was hard, but after a successful mission and a lot of drinks you told him. You told him everything, the words just spilled out of you. What was the best about the evening... He liked you back.

Since then the weeks have been really hard and stressful. It all built up and blew on the day that Tomura won against Re:Destro. You felt he wanted to do the best for the League. For your family. And one thought started nagging you. It lasted really long. You thought about it so much. Thinking about the cons and pros. And thinking about Tomura's reaction.

One day you were with Tomura in the lab. With this weird doctor. You didn't like any of this. You could feel it is wrong. After another painful lesson you helped Tomura to your room. You sat together on the bed and a weird silence fell upon you. "Y/N? Something is wrong?" Tomura mumbles and looks at you. You nervously looked at him. "There's something I wanted to tell you..." You whisper and look at him.

You didn't know how it happened. You told him everything once again. "I... This will sound crazy. I want to be with you. You know... Like a normal person. I don't want to fight and survive like this anymore. I don't like the doctor, I don't like AFO, I'm really sorry Tomura. Just." You sigh and look at his hands holding yours, encouraging you. "I... I want to marry you." You blurted out and Tomura looked at you. His eyes... They were full of joy and excitement. "I want to too." He smiles at you and kisses you. You both laid down in the bed and talked about the idea the whole night.

The weeks flew by and it was here. The day. The day of the marriage. Of yours and Tomura's marriage. It was organized by him and Trumpet and the League. It was a surprise and a gift for you from everyone. You were currently sitting in a chair. Your white long dress were spilling over you on the floor. You had long sleeves covered with flowers, a white corset and a long dress. Toga was sitting in front of you doing your make-up while other girls from the Liberation Front were tending to your hair. You hold a beautiful big bouquet of flowers in your hands. You couldn't believe it. It was really happening. Toga called Spinner and Dabi and checked everything. She beamed at you. It was time.

The music started playing and you stood in front of a big door. Behind them was him. Everyone. The altar. It was time. Toga beamed at you and Dabi came to you. "You look breathtaking." Dabi grins at you and you chuckle. "You all look awesome. Thank you so much, I want to cry." You mumble and try to breathe steadily. Your hands were trembling. The door finally opened, everyone looking at you. You walked down the corridor with Toga and Dabi by your sides. Spinner stood by Tomura who... looked stunning and lovely. He had a red suit with black tie and white button-up underneath. He also had his royal coat from the first speech to the Liberation Front. His hair was neat and looked kinda funny. His eyes... His gorgeous eyes were on you. You stood up in front of him and smiled at Trumpet who was there as an officiant. Then you looked at everyone. There they were, your league... Your family. You listen to Trumpet talking loudly before Tomura said. "I do." He smiles and then it's your turn. Tomura looks at you, expecting your answer. "I do. Yes, I do." You smile at him, feeling tears in your eyes. His fingers put a ring on your finger and you did the same with his ring. Trumpet beams at you. "Now I present to you... Mister and Misses Shigaraki!" He says loudly. "And now kiss!" You chuckle, but then you feel his hands around your waist. He lifts you into the air and kisses you passionately in front of everyone. You blush and kiss him back. "I always wanted to try this. You are all mine... forever." He whispers into the kiss and holds you in the bridal style. Then he walks the corridor down with you away from everyone. You couldn't believe it. You are together. Forever

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This drabble will be a part of LoV Shenanigans that I'm working on. <33

[justanamesstuff]

The intimacy of being understood

Chapter 2

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Helloo, back with this baby...I really love this story since the start so I hope you're excited for more :)) Please let me know what you think!!

Warnings: PANIC ATTACK, slight mention of death, breakups, hurt feelings, typos.

Word count: 2. 7 k

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

The almost angelic sound of the bell made her look up from her book. A new customer, no one she knew. The woman wasn’t Matty. Y/n sighed, blaming Kate for making her create this new set of expectations about seeing Matty. She didn’t like the warmth that erupted on her chest re-thinking about the chats they had. 

Every day, the door opened or someone passed by, she gave herself the chat about how those feelings weren’t hers; how is just a reflection of Kate’s excitement about meeting one of her favourite artists. Y/n calmed down after that inner conversation until the minimal movement took her attention and her mind pictured Matty’s curls, or his sweet smile. 

She shook her head, trying to get back to the book waiting for her. At the same time, she was aware of the woman walking around the shop. 

*****

The day passed on a blur for Y/n. A handful of people came and go, some bought books, some of them didn’t. It was a good day for the shop, even when the owner had her head else where.

“Thank you.” she said to the supplier. 

“See ya’ next week.” the man exited the place, closing the door behind him.

Y/n waited for his van to disappeared, to turn the sign from ‘open’ to ‘close’. Once that was done, she faced the boxes all around her, full of books waiting to be sorted. Y/n huffed. The woman tried to find the energy she didn’t have at the end of her working day. Y/n thought maybe some music would help. 

After a few clicks around the computer’s screen, sooner, upbeat music surrounded the bookshop. Y/n moved her head, trying to follow the rhythm of the song, dragging the first box closer to the ladder leaning on one of the walls full of shelves with books. She grabbed a handful of the new collection and started climbing up.

She worked on automatic mode, when a voice startled her. 

“Enjoying the music?” her body trembled, the ladder responding to it, moving abruptly. Y/n held the sides of it with too much strength, her knuckles turned white. The remaining books that were on her hand flying until they fell beside Matty standing at the bottom of the ladder. The singer dodged the books, holding the ladder firm, so she didn’t fell. 

“Fuck! Sorry, you- oh my god.” Y/n noticed she was breathing quickly.

Matty looked up with puppy eyes, “I’m sorry, Y/n. Didn’t mean to.” he was truly sorry.  “Let me help you.” he offered.

“No, I got it.” she was too self-sufficient –to not say stubborn.

“I insist.”

“Matty…” she protested. “Go and read! I have this.” Y/n tried to reassure him, gifting the man with a smile.

“Know you do.” Matty continued fighting, taking his coat and jumper off, leaving them on the big couch. “Not in the mood for reading, really.” he shared, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Y/n couldn’t help to admire his strong forearms. “Get down” Matty used a stern tone. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I said, get down.”

“Matty.”

“Don’t be stubborn.” Matty noticed with satisfaction how she tried to find the right words. It was obvious she was struggling.

“I’m not.”

“Then get down.” Matty dared her. He stared, admiring her soft eyes. After a few minutes, she looked far from him and –defeated– walked down. She took the fallen books, meanwhile Matty giggled softly. 

Y/n tried to look presentable, arranging her clothes. Matty stood in front of her with a winning smile. He was happy to be in the shop after very long weeks. 

“Hey.” he greeted Y/n properly.

She felt her cheeks hotter than expected, “Hi.”

“Can I have those?” Matty titled his head towards the books Y/n was holding against her chest. 

“If you insist.” she tried to joke, look relaxed passing them.

He winked his eye, saying, “Thank you.” 

The singer proceed to climb like she had done before he showed up a few minutes ago. Y/n followed his form, trying really hard to prevent her eyes to follow how his shirt tensed up and the cloth of his pants tighten around his perfect bottom. Her face was burning when she detached her eyes from Matty, going to open another box of books. ‘What’s wrong with me’.

“So, are you listening to the 1975?” Matty made conversation from the top, leaving the books, copying the way Y/n presented the rest.

“Who?” she asked confused, which made Matty chuckled.

“The songs that have been playing…”

Y/n looked back to the computer. “Ah, no. Kate made this playlist and somehow sets everything, so I can’t change it. I’m starting to like it, though.” she admitted. 

“Because you have no choice?” Matty planted his feet on the floor, extending his hand to receive more books from her.

“Because they’re good. Didn’t know the name.” 

It warmed his chest knowing she was so natural, so sincere and true to herself. 

“They’re alright.” the singer tried really hard to not break his facade about the band. He was having fun with it, and it was a nice way to know what she really thought about them, about him.

“I like the change of voices the singer does.”

“Do you? Don’t think he’s a bit lame?”

“No, he’s fantastic.” Y/n contradicted him, almost offended by his question. “Do you like them? This the 1985?”

He laughed loud this time, “1975.” Matty softly corrected her. “Yeah, listen to them quite a lot.” He wasn’t lying.

“Good.”

“Kate is a big fan.”

“Is she here today?” Matty asked, without noticing the pain on her face. The woman thought that maybe he got a crush on her or something. The thought of Matty coming back because he fancied Kate and not for their conversations hurt her.

“No, disappointed? She’s sing-“ Y/n tried to play it cool, failing miserably. 

Although Matty cut her short, “Just asking.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“And if me coming here is about someone, it’s mainly about you.”

Y/n cringed when she heard her mouth spat a, “Doubt that.” as a reflex reply.

“You have a wonderful place here.” the singer tried to save the moment.

“I've noticed you liked it.” 

“Did you?” Y/n ignored the suggestive tone.

“I don’t have many regulars…”

Matty jumped from the second to last step to the floor. “You break my heart.”

“Liar.” Y/n mumbled, making him laugh again. “So, why aren’t you in the mood for reading today? If you don’t mind me as-“

“My ex and… the breakup.” Matty was so sincere sometimes during their conversations, making her feel special, even though he was probably like that with a lot of people. 

“Sorry, you dont-“

“Didn’t happen today…but y’know how this stuff works…”

“Can’t say…no, I’ve-“ Y/n felt her palms gathered a moister it wasn’t there seconds ago. Her mind fogging with thoughts about how to move, what to say, how to breath. However, Matty didn’t seem to notice at first and continued working. 

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” he asked like nothing. The singer could never tell Y/n was feeling suffocated by her clothes and her own skin. She gasped for air, pulling the collar of her jumper but that didn’t help even a bit. 

“I did, I just-“ Y/n felt the walls closing down, approaching her little by little. Everything seemed too much at the moment. Speaking was a difficult task. She tried to steady her breathing,  “I’m sorry, I- what I was saying?” Y/n pressed her palm against her forehead.  

Her broken sentences warned Matty. The man turned around, analysing her factions rapidly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I-“ Jason’s face showing up on her mind felt like someone was pushing her soul away from her body. Y/n stumbled back a few steps, without noticing Matty ran towards her. 

“Y/n?” he asked. 

She couldn’t look back or even replied. The words were wrong, her tongue was heavy inside her mouth and didn’t respond to her brain instructions. Her limbs started to failing too.

“Hey, hey…sit down.” Matty urged her, guiding her weak body closer to the couch. The singer kneeled down in front of her “Panic?” Y/n refrained from speaking, she replied with a nod. “Okay, do you need me to do anything?” she looked inside his eyes, but a fog blinded her. “Y/n!” Matty snapped, bringing her back. The woman blinked a couple of times. “Repeat what I do.” he instructed Y/n repeating a breathing pattern. 

“That’s good, love.” he praised her. “Do you want me to hold your hand?” she nodded again. “Okay, I'm here…let it pass, Y/n.”

Matty’s eyes never left her face and her shoulders. He felt the urge to hold her body closer, even though he knew that wasn’t everyone's go-to tool during a panic attack. Matty kept drawing different patterns –letters and circles– on her hand, trying to bring her mind back. 

The frontman repeated the words ‘in’ and ‘out’ from time to time, when Y/n couldn’t help holding her breath. He patted her hand slightly, so she looked directly into his eyes and they started again.

After a while, Matty saw how her body started to relax, and his copied her. He didn’t notice he was tense, expecting her to relax. Once the veil shielding her eyes disappeared, Matty dared to speak again.

“Can I sneak in the back to get you water?”

“Yes.” Y/n spoke for the first time, the sound coming out strangled and weird.

“Stay right here.”

Matty left, leaving an exhausted Y/n sitting on the centre of the shop. She looked outside, noticing it started to rain. Her eyes fell on the door, looking at the sign of open/close. 

Her body filled with a wave of self consciousness, thinking how she had a panic attack in front of Matty. She prayed for the floor to swallow her form

“Here.” Matty came to his previous position, knelling in front of Y/n. His attentive sight on her, watching how she emptied the glass. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry.” she left the glass beside them on the floor.

“None of that.”

Y/n hid her face behind her hands, “I’m so embarrassed.” 

“Y/n, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Had a lot of them myself.”

“Really?”

“Yes, specially after the breakup with…well, ex-girlfriend now. We were going to marry, and I’m not coping well with things. Your shop is the only place I feel secure enough, away from her memory- Sorry, you didn’t ask-“

It was her time to interrupt him, taking his warm hand on hers, “Thanks for sharing this with me, Matty.”

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“Did I say or do something to upset you?” Matty asked, still holding Y/n’s hand. His warmth was comforting.

“I-“

“It’s fine, you don’t have to…” 

Y/n couldn’t repress a thought coming to the front of her head. It was a very used phrase, she heard it before many times, even though it was the first time she felt it. Y/n believed about feeling had met him ages ago –not only months–, or during another life. She never felt something similar with Jason, it was another range of emotions. 

“Boyfriend.” she struggled to say it finally. 

“Bad breakup?” 

Matty let go of her hand, feeling cold without her soft skin glutted to his.

“Not…really.” Y/n made a pause. “He’s not around any more…like, I can even say it even when month have passed…he’s not ali- he d-“ she chocked on her words, feeling tears streaming down her face.

The singer wasn’t sure if it was a matter of empathy or selfishness to taker her hand again between his. Matty always, since he met her, felt the urge to be around Y/n. It was an itch under his skin, repeating her name.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Y/n. I’m such an idiot to mention-“

“You didn’t know.”

“Still.”

“Thanks for staying today…and coming back to the shop…” she dared to say.

“I love this place, you do an amazing job.”

The heat came back to her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I’ll finish with the books, okay? Don’t move!” he instructed her, trying to be funny so she cheered up a little. 

Y/n laughed at his antics. “Okay.”

Matty kept the conversation going. He did more of the talking than Y/n because he understood she was exhausted after the attack. The woman noticed his effort adding the fact that he did all the work she was supposed to be doing. He was an angel who didn’t fall from the skin, he simply walked into his life. Y/n felt grateful with universe.

*********

It was pitch black outside when Matty finished unboxing –what felt like– hundreds of boxes with the new collection of books.

“I'll free you from my presence now.” the singer informed her, putting back on his jumper and coat. She didn’t want to see him leave, but it wasn’t fair to delay him more.

“Oh, shit…it’s really late, I’m sorry.” she truthfully said. 

Time with him passed quickly. 

“Please, don’t! It was a good evening.”

“Really?” she crocked an eyebrow. ‘How grounding someone after a panic attack equals a good evening’.

“Yes.”

Y/n stood up from the couch, fixing her clothes, so her eyes weren’t glutted to Matty’s face. “Good to know I didn’t scare you off.” she teased him.

“Never.” the firm reply made her blush.

“Well, see you around, Matty.” Y/n said goodbye, standing awkwardly away from him.

He looked at her one more time and started walking closer to the door. “I’ll see you soon, Y/n.”

“Bye.”

The breeze from outside washed the room. Matty’s body was almost entirely out of the shop when he abruptly turned around. The action surprised Y/n, who was staring at him.

“Oh, Y/n…” he said, as if he remembered something.

“Yeah?” 

“I have to travel for…work. So, I won’t be here for a month or two. Please don’t believe I ran away.” his eyes stared back into her’s from across the place. He was moving anxiously on his place while he spoke, it was a sweet scene. 

“Ah, okay. Don’t worry, good luck with work!” she wished for him.

“Thanks.”

After that, Matty walked outside, turning to his right, giving her a chance to look at the singer through the showcase. 

*****

Five minutes after Matty left, Kate opened the door. She was visibly tired, even though Y/n’s friend had promised to pay for dinner that day, and she couldn’t let her best friend down. 

“Hello, my dear…ready for dinner?” she asked as the father of a family coming back from work. 

“Oh, hi! You won't believe who just left.” 

“The King?” Kate asked and Y/n shook her head. “Just tell me, I’m too tired for this.” Y/n’s friend urged her to speak, rubbing her eyes.

“Matty was here.”

“What? When? Where? Is he-” Kate started to look around the shop.

Y/n clarified with a smug smile on her face, “He left five minutes ago…”

“You have to be kidding me!”

“He helped with the new collection of books. They arrived today.” Y/n explained, turning the computer off, so they can leave. 

“Matty Healy helped you with what?” Kate rested her arms heavy on the front desk watching her friend move.

“I was listening to your playlist and doing it myself, then he came in.”

Kate gasped, “Wait, wait!” she repeated. “You were listening to ‘the 1975’ with Matty Healy?” 

“Yes! He mentioned the band!” Y/n innocently answered.

“Y/n, you’re truly something else.” Kate started laughing, resting her forehead on the wood surface.

“Hey!” she protested.

“Babe, he’s the lead singer of the 1975!” Kate enlightened her, turning her head enough, watching how Y/n’s face changed.

Y/n hid her mouth with the palm of her hand. “Oh my god!” she had embarrassed herself twice in front of Matty. 

“He didn’t tell you?” Kate pushed her head up.

“No?”

Kate squinted her eyes, “Interesting.”

“Please, don’t start.” Y/n asked, walking towards the front door.

“I wasn’t.” Kate walked behind her, pushing her hands up –showing her innocence. 

“Fine, let’s go.” the owner of the bookshop said, turning the lights off. 

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be included): @indierockgirrl @x-a-black-winged-dove-x @iregretbeingherewheniwas10 @hswannaknow

[nixie-writes]

Nixie x Zestial p. 2

Extermination day had passed by with many souls dead or mortally injured. Now that the tall spider-esque demon had left, she could do as she needed. Scaling down the building she hopped off a low balcony and began scanning the wreckage. She spotted an angelic weapon poking through a shark demon and nabbed it, wiping off the blood with her hand and examining her face in the metal.

It was a small dagger. About three inches long, small enough to pack in her pocket. Shopping in the Pride ring was always risky near extermination day, the panic buying definitely boosted sales for Vox, who hid in his tower surrounded by guards who would give their lives to protect the walking paycheck. Nixie rolled her eye at the thought of Vox. She hadn't been back to Pride since her nasty breakup with him. Anything with his logo gave her a sour taste.

Speaking of Vox, there he was now, examining...something? Trying to creep closer without being noticed she realized it was a decapitated exorcist. The head was cleanly separated from the body. A blade must have done this. Backing away quietly Nixie tripped on a pebble and fell back on her ass with a thud. Vox turned around to see her, muttering curses under her breath. Velvette approached her, not much shorter than Nixie.

"The hell are you doing around here? Back for a pity party?" Velvette chastised. Nixie snorted, grinning to show her teeth. "Oh please, I could get better sex from one of these corpses. Tell anti-radio to stay far from me and keep his quarrelling to Alastor. I want nothing to do with him," she stated the last piece loud enough for Vox to hear. Standing up and dusting off her clothes she turned and walked away, ignoring Valentino yelling out that he could be a dead corpse for her.

Nixie went on a small trek through Pride, taking in the accents and culture. Then again, this place has been built by those who abused the gift of free will. She wanted nothing to do with them. Though this time it was unavoidable. Walking down an alley Nixie found herself in front of Carmilla Carmine's manor. She softly knocked on the door, waving hi to the security camera. She heard footsteps approaching.

Clara and Odette were at the door. "Come in, Mother says you've made a new friend," Clara spoke gently. Odette took the rear, pulling out her phone and texting someone something. Nixie was confused as to what Clara meant by new friend, until Odette opened the door and revealed Carmilla, examining a piece of angelic metal. Beside her was none other than the mysterious spider demon, who appeared surprised and pleased to see her. Nixie stood in the doorway, a little shocked. These two knew each other?

"It was mine honor to make acquaintance with your biggest supplier," Zestial spoke as he stood up. "I believe I shall take my leave now," he adjusted his tie and passed between Nixie and Odette.

After being zoned out watching Zestial leave, Nixie remembered why she had come. "Oh yes, Carmilla!" She greeted as she entered the fellow Overlord's manor. "It isn't much, and I doubt you can sell it for much with all the damage on it, but this is all I could find," Nixie produced the small dagger. Carmilla took it from Nixie's hand. "Hmm, I can make a weapon with this. Thank you Nixie," she replied, passing Nixie a few bills of money. Turning away, Nixie knew she had to follow Zestial and learn more about him. He intrigued her.

[adiosnachito]

𝑙𝑎 hacienda de LALO SALAMANCA. [ 5 THINGS THAT LALO PERSONALLY REQUESTED TO HAVE IN HIS HOME & ARE THUS HUGE INDICATORS OF HIS PERSONALITY. ]

as a sign of gratitude and respect, lalo was gifted a personalised hacienda in chihuahua by his uncle don hector & partner don eladio. aside from his maid, gardener and other house members, lalo put in a request for the following five items to make his hacienda a home.

𝑢𝑛𝑜,⠀THE OUTDOOR BASIN.

dirty hands have no place in lalo's home. when returning home, lalo washes the blood & grit from his hands using this basin. he specifically requested a basalt basin, a stone which held great significance in ancient aztec culture. historians claim that basalt has an ‘inherent stoniness and roughness that long seemed appropriate to its subject matter, particularly the practice of human sacrifice.’

it would thus only be fitting for lalo to wash the life of his victims away down this basin, just before he tucks into his evening meal.

𝑑𝑜𝑠,⠀ABUELITA'S PLATES.

his sweet abuelita ... what would his home be without a little piece of her. lalo's kitchen is kitted out, in her honour, with crockery from her all-time favourite supplier. every time he sits down to enjoy a meal, he is reminded not only of his childhood, but of the reasons that he is in this position today: the beautiful, hard-working, courageous salamanca family. it reminds him to be thankful, but most importantly that blood is all.

𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠, THE SPIRIT CELLAR.

but it isn't all so serious! lalo & the salamancas are rich, he's a bachelor, so of course he's gonna have a bit of fun when he can. below the living space of lalo's hacienda is a cellar for all of his spirit needs. a casual drinker, his two all-time favourites are tequila & mescal. in his cellar, lalo possesses a collection of both which could last a lifetime.

had lalo lived (aggressively side-eyes gustavo fring), he'd have potentially invested in an agave farm and his own, private distillery.

𝑐𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑜, THE LIBRARY.

an ex - law and society student of new mexico state university, lalo is an avid reader in his downtime. except, he doesn't allow himself much of it. his library is stockpiled with books on mexican and ancient aztec history, law & order and even crime novels. out of all the requested features, the library is his least used ... much to his dismay.

before their deaths, the library was mostly used by lalo's cook yolanda, his gardener cecilio & a young guard named ciro.

𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑜, THE BATHTUB TRAP DOOR. [ canon ]

a man like lalo salamanca can never be too careful. his final big request, which was more of a demand, was to have a failsafe installed in case he ever needed to escape. only lalo knows about this out of the entire household. it is located in his ensuite, as he personally never bathes and prefers to shower. activating the trapdoor will reveal a passage under his bathtub, which should guide lalo through a tunnel and out of the hacienda compound in emergencies.

no one is more valuable in that compound than he is.

[slyvieselkie]

His Embrace

Warning: for the Dungeon Collection, dubious consent, rough sex, drunk reader makes sexual advances at unwilling male colleague, yandere ghost, violence

This ring tells the tale of a beautiful love from years and years ago. A romance that surpasses the classes of its time, a pure connection of a nobleman and his lovely common girl. He gifted her this ring, equivalent to a whole diamond mine today, as a symbol of his love and heart. It was a shame that the nobleman died early, they say he died of disease, but at least she was by his side until the last breath.

You doubt that neither the story nor the price was true, but it was a beautiful ring nonetheless. It was a thick golden band and heavily ornamented with intertwined snakes and flowers. The central stone was an old mine cut turquoise with smaller amethysts on either side. At least that's what you were told to justify the steep price for a flea market, but the ring was just calling out to you.

And now you wear it all the time, especially when leaving the house. Somehow you can just never forget to put it on before leaving the house. Even if it doesn't match with your clothes, it just needed to be there. But maybe it was a good thing, because life has been going great for you.

The project you've been stressing about was finally making progress. It was truly a strange situation. The director constantly giving you a hard time just approved everything in one go, he was kind of jittery and pale. And the supplier who kept rising the price broke his leg, which somehow led to him to signing the contract at half the original price.

Then there was that neighbourhood creep the other day. You were going on an afternoon run when he decided to follow you. Weirded out, you tried to ignore him but that made the creep scoot closer until he was right behind you and breathing into your neck. At that point you stopped and told him to back off.

Growing angry, he started shouting when a ball comes out of nowhere and bounces off his face. You gasp and turn to the kid who kicked it, the boy tries to apologise but the man completely blows up. That causes his dad to come out, a giant army man whose bark made the creep piss his pants and run off.

You also suspect its has magical powers, like making you doing things and then making you forget them. Because you swear you left your phone in the car but now its on the coffee table. And you're sure you forgot to bring fresh towels into the bathroom, so why was it in the cupboard? Like how do you keep forgetting that you've already taken the trash out?

All you can say is that ever since you've bought ring, life has become way easier.

....

Coming back from an alcohol filled party dedicated to your successful project, you giggle leaning onto your co-worker for support. He turns on the light of your bedroom and helps you lie down on the bed.

The man sighs as you roll back and forth babbling nonsense, "Geez, why'd you drink so much when you're a lightweight?"

Looking up at his blurry figure, your eyes sparkle before you pounce onto him. He's tackled onto the bed and groans when you sit yourself on top of him. Note to self: let someone take you home next time.

"Oi get off me", he tries to push you off but you whine and bounce in refusal.

A choked noise leaves the man because you're sitting on his pelvis and his hardening rod. Red alert, red alert, he needs to leave now. Your co-worker tries to run away but you catch him and the man screams in horror because you somehow took your shirt off and caught him at the same time in those few seconds.

He sobs as you press against him behind when there's a click, and the two of you turn to the door. The man's face turns pale and he shoves you onto the bed before quickly fleeing back to his car. He fumbles with the car key, almost face planting on your lawn, and slams the door shut. Some of the neighbours go to their window at the sound of a roaring engine so late at night.

You blink at the emptiness before falling flat onto your bed. The next time you open your eyes, there's a figure hovering over you.

Still a little drunk, you beam up at the figure and reach out to him, "You're back~!", your arms wrap around his neck and squish your cheek against him.

The man from your dreams was back.

It all started a few weeks ago when you opened your eyes and found a man hovering over you. You scream and try to scramble away from him, but a silky voice calms you down. He carefully glides towards you with a warm smile

You don't know how, but you came to the conclusion that it was a dream. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed a little translucent, surely if he was real there wouldn't be this white glow around him. So you accept his advances, because this was clearly just a dream. Right?

Plus you can never remember his face even he always makes you lose your breath every time you meet. He also makes you feel so shy with his intense stare, tasting your skin and crevices with his eyes. You'll try to hide under the sheets, and that's when he jumps in with soft cooing.

In your dreams, you have no control over what happens. The man uses his voice to take over your body, moulding you the way he likes and you can only accept whatever he's given you.

It always starts slow, he peppers kisses onto your face until you warm up and cling to him. Then your dreamy man will carefully remove the nightgown as if he's opening a fragile present, gliding his hands from your breasts down to your sides and grips your panties at the hips. He removes them smoothly and return to caressing your body.

Your man takes his time, using his mouth and hands to bring you over the edge. You sing the sweetest tunes for him and hold him like he's your lifeline. He gives back delighted praises and promises you more, he keeps his word every time.

Your nights with him are always pleasurable and delicate. Every orgasm he coaxes is tender and helps your body relax like the best massage. And the moments he chooses are also perfect. A peaceful morning when the particles in the air shimmer like sparkles. A colourful sunset with oranges, pinks, and lavender blurring your vision. In the silence of the night with a million stars and the moonlight makes your bodies glow.

You melt in his embrace and loll out your tongue for him to suck on while he thrusts into your fluttering walls. You moan into the pillow and tremble from the way he grinds into your ass. You beg him to continue even though you're about to pass out, pussy squelching as he hooks your legs over his shoulders.

The next time you wake up, you're glowing and refreshed for the day to come.

You wake up this time completely exhausted and unable to leave the bed. And most importantly, you remember what he looks like. You can only describe him as nothing less than heavenly, like one of those drop dead gorgeous characters from the romance books. Soft chestnut strands that slightly covered his glowing green eyes.

You tense up still feeling his presence. He had been angry last night, angry that you were whoring yourself to some common man. His honey voice hardened as he hissed in your ears.

"You harlot, had I not given you enough that you would open your legs for that bastard?"

You sobbed apologies but he wouldn't accept them, "It seems my kindness lead you to believe you could take advantage of me...I'll have to punish you for this, you'll regret every drop of liquor you consumed."

His eyes were sharp and storming with fury. They made you feel dirty and guilty for ever attempting to throw yourself at another man. He made you look at him the whole night so that you would learn your place.

There was no delicacy last night, it was cruel from the beginning you arrived. His hands gripped your body until it bruised, smacked your pussy and ass until bloomed into red for him. He sucked your neck and bit your nipples until you curled from the soreness. It was his version of purifying your body from that man's touch.

Tears stream down your hot cheeks which he licked up with a deep moan. Your voice goes hoarse from the begging and sobs, he only sneers at you and grips your throat tightly. Everything becomes hazy after that and you dance on the verge of suffocation in his embrace.

Your orgasms come crashing in heavy waves that he has no consideration for. He doesn't even fuck you on the bed, naughty girls don't get that privilege. Instead the man pounds you against the sofa until your lower half goes numb. He lifts you into the air and makes your heart drop every time his grip loosens. Your face gets shoved into the mirror so you can see what the filth you were.

Lastly, he makes you kneel on the ground and shoves his length down your throat. You cough and gag around it until he lets out a gasp and warm globs slide down into your stomach.

The last thing you see is a pained expression from the man towering over you, and then you're gone.

Now you deal with the aftermath by yourself, whimpering from the pain of every movement. Thank goodness it was your day off. You stumble into the bathroom and sit in the shower. With all your might, you turn the shower on and flinch at the cold water. But it also helps soothe your body, numbing the sore muscles and burning bites.

Finally feeling a bit better, you get yourself out of the shower and heat up some soup. You also prepare some hot tea for later on knowing that your throat was going to burning the whole day.

You only got to eat half of your simple meal before your doorbell was ringing. Without much thought, you ignore it thinking that it was some salesman. That was until the visitor started banging on your door and shouting. Ah, that was going to be your cousin.

"What the hell took you so long?", you raise an eyebrow at the audacity of this bitch, "You're lucky I even opened the door. What the fuck do you want?"

She scoffs and mutters, "Would've broken it down if you didn't. Anyways! I need a place to crash, let me stay over", you glance down at her giant bags and smile, "Hell no."

Before you could shut the door, she's shoving it back further, "What!? Why not?!", you roll your eyes, "Uhh I dunno, maybe because you went after my sister's boyfriend?"

The girl clicks her tongue, "You serious? Why do you care, it was your sister!? Plus she doesn't even care anymore!", you laugh in disbelief, "Because she's my sister and I fucking hate sluts like you! And she doesn't care because karma served you through the STD you got!"

With a scream she pushes her way into the house, you grunt stumbling back into the vase your mother bought and it shatters into a million pieces on the ground. The mess doesn't end there because the goddam bitch tries to wreck your house.

Keyword: tries. Because the moment she tries to throw your soup across the place, it's coming right back at her. Your eyes widen as liquid drips down her face while the bowl settles on her head like a hat. What the fuck was happening?

A piercing shriek escapes her when your cushion flies to her mouth and plugs it up. The bowl falls off and the bitch gets to witness the ceramic shards rise to the air and circle her. You've become frozen watching a sharp piece graze her cheek and she whimpers.

Then in the reflection of the black TV screen, you see him. The man from your dreams. And he has the most evil grin spread across his face, one that would make all of the serial killers cower in their cells. It stretches into impossible territory for human and you gulp.

"S-Stop, please?", he immediately snaps to you with a blank look before meeting your eyes in the screen.

The ghost tilts his head and you try to smile, "Just...kick her out?", he frowns and motions to snapping her neck, "No! No-", "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

His face distorts into fury at the way she shouts at you and sharp claws reaches for her stomach, "Ahhh!", you fall to the ground.

In that moment you don't even have to look to feel his presence. And you wonder how you've never noticed it until now. With a soft smile, your head falls to where his shoulder would be.

"Let her go, you and I have a lot to talk about."

That was all he needed to hear before your cousin was being thrown across the street and the door locks. Your breath hitches as everything reverse to before she arrived and he starts forming in front of you.

"You were very mean last night", you huffed and he leans in unimpressed, "My angel was found dancing for another man, what was I supposed to do?"

You roll your eyes as he carries you to the couch, "I was drunk!", "Indeed, foolishly drunk. I expect that not to happen again."

He doesn't let you argue, smothering your face with kisses and smirks at your irritation, "What a con artist, gentleman my ass", you grumble, "Never said I was."

The brunette man nuzzles into your neck and runs his hand across your body. Instantly, all the pain he gave you disappears and you sigh in relief. You bathe in his apologetic touches and his voice becomes the lullaby you need to drift off to sleep.

The last thing you hear in his embrace is, "You are mine, forever and ever. And I'll kill anyone that dares to touch what is mine."

What a frightful ring you have brought home.

[below10dollargifts1]

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[proofwhisky]

THE STRONGHOLD OF THE Shelby family has long been frequented by a rather impressive number of regular patrons. Even before Thomas purchased the pub as a gift for his older brother, it had been a lively & beloved neighborhood business that had been quenching the thirst of blue-collar workers in Small Heath for many years. In the hands of the Peaky Blinders, not much has changed. They still serve the same beer, the same liquor, still employ the same bartender.

Now, though, the small, private room in the corner is always shut tight ; the frosted windows now bearing the name SHELBY BROS. DISTILLERY instead of the Garrison's former supplier's logo. The rest of the pub is still as lively as ever, but now there is a strange, heavy sense of secrecy in the air.

Everyone knows that the Garrison is the Peaky Blinders' pub. Everyone knows that the Shelby brothers ( often even Thomas Shelby himself ) spend their time in the private room in the corner, being served their drinks through a window at the end of the bar. Everyone knows about the cuttings & the beatings & the robberies & whatever else the gang has gotten themselves into these days. Most of all, though, everyone there knows Thomas Shelby, & Thomas Shelby knows everyone there.

So when the man himself pushes open the doors of the snug & makes his way over to the bar with a cigarette in his mouth, a strange hush falls over the room while the patrons wait for him to find the newcomer among them. It doesn't take him long, considering that she's sitting at the bar directly next to where he stands.

Tommy reaches over her to drag an ash tray towards him & flicks the ash of his cigarette into it. He rests his forearms on the edge of the bar as the bartender comes to take his order.

"Just the usual, Mr. Shelby ? "

"Yes. & whatever the lady wants," he says, gesturing to the stranger without looking at her.

The bartender glances between them nervously, as if waiting to see whether Tommy is joking or not, & when he is satisfied with the sincerity of the request, he looks over at Terrah expectantly, waiting for her order.

plotted starter for @lcvnderhazed ( terrah )

[chayscribbles]

THE GEMINI HEIST ☆ a writing excerpt

i've reached 10k on this draft so it's time for a little holiday gift: an excerpt!!!

for some context: this is from Gabi's POV. she, Leo, and Euna are at a stolen parts dropoff. while Leo and Euna are inside a room talking with their client, knock-off droid maker Oke Larue, Gabi is stationed outside, poised to hack into the security system, which includes a bunch of security droids, if anything goes sideways, but has been specifically instructed not to do it unless Leo gives the order.

and then... this happens.

words: 1379

gemini heist wip intro

“I’m afraid I can’t give you your money, Callisto.”

Gabi’s attention snapped back to the discussion she was eavesdropping on at Larue’s words. She paused her typing.

“And why is that?” said Leo. The video feed on Gabi’s datapad was too grainy for her to make out Leo’s facial expression, but if this turn unnerved her in any way, it didn’t show in her tone.

“As much as you value the integrity of your business practices,” Larue said, “I value the integrity of my droids.” He stepped up to the droid beside Leo, examined it, then turned to the captain. “And I do not appreciate your attempts to undermine that.”

Leo cocked her head slightly. “I believe you are mistaken. No attempts are being made on my part to undermine anything of yours.”

“Someone remotely connected to one of my droids the moment you arrived at the facility,” Larue went on, pacing in front of Leo and Euna. “You’re trying to hack into them, aren’t you? To take control of them?”

Gabi froze. Shit, she thought. Did he detect me? But I haven’t even connected to anything yet—

“I am your most trusted parts supplier,” Leo argued. “I have been nothing but honest with you in the past. It truly hurts me that you would accuse me of such a thing despite many pleasant deals between us.”

“I’ve been hearing whispers about you lately, Callisto. Things that make me question your reliability. Tell me—” Larue stopped pacing in front of Leo and stared her down. “Would more than half of your crew desert you if you were as trustworthy as you claim?”

Leo visibly stiffened. Whatever composed reply she had prepared immediately dissolved. Instead, she snarled, “The internal affairs of my crew are none of your business, and have nothing to do with our arrangement.”

Gabi held her breath as Larue stared the captain down. Leo was taller than average for a Tharekkani and knew how to use that to make herself look imposing, but the droid-maker’s words had clearly rattled her enough to make her shrink. Her arms were now crossed over her chest, and she almost seemed to lean away from Larue as he stood over her.

Larue said, “Seize them.”

Gabi had no time to fully register the two droids in the room pouncing on her crewmates when clunking footsteps sounded in her direction from the door. She jerked her head up from her datapad. 

The droid stationed at the door was storming towards her.

“Shit!” 

She scrambled to her feet and backed away, only to slam into the wall behind her. Her hands shook so much that she nearly dropped the datapad—

The datapad!

Remembering the device in her hands, she rapidly scrolled through the code and found this droid’s section. With shaky fingers, she punched in the sequence to access its commands. Red text chided her. One of the symbols was wrong. 

The droid was closing in on her now, casting a long shadow. With her back fully pressed against the wall, Gabi frantically rewrote the code. This time, new lines appeared in green. She scanned them for a specific sequence— “loyalty protocol”— and didn’t bother double checking that it was the right one before selecting the entire block.

The droid raised its arm.

Gabi sucked in a breath and deleted the code.

The droid stopped in its tracks.

Heart pounding, Gabi peered up at it, still not daring to move. It loomed motionlessly over her, standing at what she estimated to be about six feet tall. It was so close that she could almost hear the whirring of the drives in its torso. Only after a moment did it dawn on Gabi that it was waiting for her to speak.

Her eyes sought out the unit number painted on its chest in bold white letters.

“B-34?” she read aloud.

Its eyes lit up in a soft blue with some kind of recognition.

“I-I’m Gabi,” she went on.

The droid cocked its head like a curious animal, emitting two short tones that almost sounded like it was saying her name. “Bap beep.”

“You’re not… you’re not going to attack me anymore, are you?” she asked.

It shook its head with a series of incensed beeps as if the idea of it attacking her was preposterous. Gabi let out a sigh of relief and awe. It was so strange to have this massive killing machine under her command, and she couldn’t quite believe she had been able to reset its loyalty so thoroughly.

A loud crash from inside reminded her of the situation at hand.

“Can you help me?” she asked the droid, pointing at the door. “My crew is in there, and I have to help get them out. They’re the two humans being attacked by two droids like you—”

Without hesitating, B-34 whirled around, stormed to the door, and bashed it open. With the clinking of its metal parts swiveling around its joints to reposition themselves, one of its hands swiftly transformed into a small laser cannon, and it opened fire into the room.

Clutching her datapad, Gabi ran after it, making sure to stay in the shelter of the door frame, and peered inside. Larue had two droids protecting him in the corner of the room with plasma shields as he watched the chaos unfold. B-40 had the struggling Leo grappled, dangling her a few feet off the air. Not too far away, Euna was fully engaged in a fist fight with B-92, both throwing punches so fast it made Gabi’s head spin. When Euna fought, it wasn’t as much a battle for dominance as it was a performance. Her movements were graceful despite her build. Every manoeuvre looked calculated, choreographed, executed not only with power, but with style and finesse.

“Don’t hit the humans!” Gabi hissed as one of B-34’s laser shots narrowly missed hitting Euna in the thigh.

The droid fired again, this time getting B-40 squarely in the shoulder. It ungracefully released Leo, who ungracefully ended up on her ass on the ground. At this, Euna managed to shove her own opponent far enough for her to fire at B-34 with her cybernetic arm. The droid shuddered and stumbled back as the blast of pink energy hit its torso.

“Don’t shoot it!” Gabi screeched. “It’s helping us! I hacked into it!”

“So you are messing with my droids!” Larue yelled, his voice distorted by the buzzing of the semi-translucent shields. “All of this talk of being honest—”

“For fuck’s sake,” Leo growled, scrambling to her feet. She made a dash for the door. “Li! Leave the droid alone! Let’s get out of here!”

But Euna was too absorbed in the fight to stop. Or maybe she was having too much fun. A wild grin threatened to tear her face in half as she pummeled the droid with hits, plastic clashing against metal. Her jacket had come off somewhere in the fight, and her broad shoulders glistened with sweat and oil smears. But B-92 was just a bit faster and stronger than her. It grabbed her wrist mid-swing and threw her onto the ground, then pinned her there with its heel and bent down to finish the job.

Gabi urged her new droid, “Do something!” 

B-34 raised its canon, aimed, and fired.

A hole appeared in B-92’s neck. Euna crammed her fingers into the jagged opening and tore its head off with a guttural yell. Sparks flew out of the wires sticking out from its neck. The droid’s decapitated body jerked, stiffened, then keeled over and collapsed with a clatter.

Gabi’s breath hitched in her throat as Euna tossed the droid’s severed head aside, then effortlessly leapt to her feet. Chest heaving, she shoved her dampened hair out of her face with one swift movement of her chiselled arm and surveyed the room for any more foes. Catching Gabi’s eye, a triumphant smile spread across her face. Gabi suddenly felt a little dizzy.

“Li!” Leo, who had joined Gabi by the door by now, barked. Her gruff voice broke Gabi out of her trance, and only then did she notice several more of Larue’s droids coming alive along the wall, much more than they could handle. “Let’s fucking go!”

[foggyfanfic]

Leandra's Labrynth

Summary: “One day, we woke up and got out of bed, tried to leave our room to go down to breakfast only to find ourselves stuck in a labyrinth of caves.” Bruno has some anxieties to iron out.

Main Story

The tablet showed a familiar image, a slim old man with wiry curls holding a plump old woman with her hair in a large bun. The woman had her hand on the man’s chin and she smiled at him with warmth and devotion. The old man looked at her with a peaceful smile of his own, looking for all the world like he’d never had a worry in his life.

Bruno, being the guy who would someday be the old man in the image, knew for a fact that the geezer had spent his life worrying constantly. Usually for no good reason.

Point in fact, this was the fifty second time he’d had this exact vision. He knew his visions were certain, he had been looking into the future for thirty one years now, and the things he saw always came true. No matter how terrible.

Or wonderful.

Hopefully.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Their future was still happy. She still loved him.

To be fair to Bruno, she had snapped at him earlier. He had walked into the kitchen and found her mopping with Félix and Agustín. Well, she was mopping, Félix was doing the dishes, and Agustín was taking inventory of the pantry. Leandra and Félix seemed to be trying to purposely throw off Agustín’s count, throwing out random numbers of food items.

“There’s ten pounds of corn flour,” Félix called over his shoulder.

“No there isn’t, hush,” Agustín huffed, scowling at the bunch of bananas he’d been trying to count. 

“32 eggs,” Leandra said, grinning at her old friend’s back.

“Shut up,” Agustín groaned. Ever since Luisa had gotten her gift she’d needed twice as much food and the familia was still adjusting their grocery budget. Or more specifically, Agustín was attempting to adjust their grocery budget. This involved keeping track of how much their family consumed month to month so he could get a good average.

“Negative ten ears of corn,” Félix said, and Leandra laughed while Agustín threw him a dirty look over his shoulder.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“An infinite supply of bruised mangoes,” Leandra joked, and both Agustín and Félix chuckled ruefully.

With so many mouths to feed, the Madrigals now got their groceries delivered straight from the farms. Their usual mango supplier had gotten a new delivery boy, and he was not particularly careful with the goods.

“Actually, I have good news,” Agustín said, “it would seem we are finally almost out of mangoes.”

This was met with cheers.

Leandra noticed a stain on the floor, something sticky that clung to her mop as readily as it clung to the dust it had collected. She scowled at it and worked at it with the mop while Félix and Agustín joked about the state the next mango delivery would be in. After an unsuccessful couple of minutes, she sighed, set the mop aside and got down on her knees to pull a scrub brush out of the bucket of sudsy mop water.

Bruno had inadvertently announced his presence by knocking out a quick rhythm on the wooden door frame.

The first sign of trouble was that Leandra’s face had paled. Agustín and Félix had exchanged a look, and both had done their best to look very focused on their individual chores.

“Here mí vida,” Bruno said, walking quickly toward her, “l-let me take care of that.”

“Bruno, we talked about this,” she hissed, glancing nervously at their audience.

“I know, I know, b-but this is-. I j-just want to help with the scrubbing, you can still mop! I’ll do-.”

“Oh gee, may I?” she cut him off, rising to her feet, “Are you sure?”

“Umm…?”

Leandra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Bruno, I am perfectly capable of a bit of cleaning.”

“I know, I know, b-but I didn’t marry you so you’d be my maid, I-.”

“So you’ve said, and I’ve said that I want to clean, I want to contribute, and you said you understood and would let me,” Leandra frowned at him, “a-and the fact that I have to argue just so you’ll let me use a mop is-.”

“You can still use the mop, I just want to take care of the hard part for you,” Bruno rushed to say.

“The hard part?! Of cleaning the floor?!”

“You shouldn’t have to-.”

“The only thing I shouldn’t have to do is keep having this argument,” Leandra snapped, all but yelling, “I love you Bruno! I don’t feel taken for granted, or taken advantage of, or like a maid. And I’m not going to leave you if I get a splinter from the mop handle!”

Bruno paled, “You got a splinter?!”

“Oh for the love of-. Out!”

“What?!”

“Get out, go look at World War Three or something. I am cleaning. And you’re not going to stop me this time!”

“But-,” he started to say, but it seemed Casita was on Leandra’s side today, because the tiles moved beneath his feet ushering him out of the kitchen. He’d tried to walk back in, but Casita blocked him.

Meanwhile, Leandra got back down on the floor and began angrily scrubbing at the stain.

Reluctantly, he’d walked away, some voice in the back of his head telling him if he let Leandra do too many chores she would start to resent marrying him. She already did so much for him, gave him so much of herself, was so patient with his visions and migraines and the sand in their bed. Was it fair to make her clean too? He knocked on the nearest piece of wood he could find, and threw salt and sugar over his shoulder, but the worry remained.

So, he came up to his vision cave and had the same vision of him and Leandra, old and in love, for the fifty second time.

With his foot, he cleared off the only stone in his sand pit, then threw the vision down onto it. Being the fifty second copy of the same vision, the magic faded out of the emerald shards almost instantly. He gathered them up and sorted through them, putting the clear ones in a box to sell to the merchants, and the ones with parts of the picture in a bag for him to use in a mosaic later.

Evidence cleaned up, he left the vision cave and spent some time with his rats. Leandra’s dog joined him, watching the rats play on her massive paws.

Eventually, the door opened, and he heard Leandra’s footsteps coming down the stairs. He placed the rat he had been petting on his shoulder and got up to greet her. She entered the tent and then stood there, hands on her hips.

“I-I’m sorry about earlier,” Bruno said.

“Are you? Or are you just saying that because you don’t want me to be angry at you?”

He didn’t respond. Leandra sighed and suddenly rushed forward, she used both hands to gently cup his face, forcing him to look her in the eye.

“Listen to me, por favor, listen. I love you, I am happy I married you, I want to contribute to the familia, and I don’t care that our lives aren’t perfect because you’re worth it.”

Bruno smiled at her, gently taking her wrists and stepping closer to her, “I love you too mí reina.”

She searched his face, for what he didn’t know, but she must not have found it because almost desperately she repeated, “I love you.”

“Sí? I love you too,” he also repeated, using a slightly different tone in hopes of giving her whatever it is she wanted from him.

She groaned, crumbling forward to lean on him, “You don’t believe me.”

“What?! Of course I believe you,” he squawked, “y-you tell me you love me ten times a day. And well, n-nobody would put up with the things you put up with if it wasn’t for love.”

“And in your mind, what exactly am I ‘putting up with’?”

Bruno hesitated, feeling it was fairly obvious what she was putting up with. Despite her valiant efforts to improve his reputation, he was still the town boogeyman, and that had consequences for the way their marriage was viewed. For the way she was viewed. Not to mention the knocking, the salt, how often she had to take care of him because he had one of his migraines. He wasn’t smooth, he stuttered all the way through his vows. He snorted when he laughed, which reminded him, he snored. He wasn’t manly, in fact if she kept lifting weights with Luisa she would probably be stronger than him pretty soon, which he thought sounded really sexy, but he was pretty sure that was weird of him.

Dios, that’s another thing. All the other weird stuff he was into. She hadn’t seemed to mind being tied down, or tying him down, but he knew it must have been strange for her. And he was turned on by weird things, like her feet, or when she squeezed him with her thighs just a little too tight. She had outright refused when he’d asked her to hurt him a little, he knew for a fact that had freaked her out.

And he wasn’t an idiot, he knew it annoyed her when he stopped her on her way out of their tent to suggest she wear her shawl in case it was chilly, or insist she wear the new boots he got her in case Pepa was in a bad mood and it rained. She had thought it was sweet the first few times he did it, but since he’d started doing it every other day… not so much. He worried, he tried not to, but he did.

When he didn’t respond for a long time she sighed again, squeezing him tight. He held her back, feeling, for now, quite reassured that she did indeed love him. Despite it all.

They went about the rest of their day, Bruno feeling a little better, even if Leandra was slightly quieter than usual. At dinner he swooped up the last of the soup for her, since he knew it was her favorite, and she tensed but thanked him with a polite smile.

Then they went to bed and she kept sighing, tossing, turning, and occasionally sniffling. Bruno stopped feeling better. 

He lay on his side and watched her silhouette as she stared sightlessly at the tent’s ceiling. Clarity dripped through the cracks in his anxiety and he wondered what the hell had he been thinking earlier. Leandra hated when he tried to take over her chores for her, she had said so multiple times. Why was it every time he saw her tackle anything even a little bit difficult he forgot that and panicked?

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” he whispered in the dark.

“Is there anything I can do to make you happy?” she said, voice tight and shaky.

He closed his eyes, “You already do.”

That was the problem. It made him happy that she tried so hard to get the village to treat him better. It made him happy to have somebody to care for him when he had a migraine. It made him happy that she put up with the salt and the sand and the snoring.

And he was getting used to being happy.

Leandra didn’t ask for clarification, she just turned towards him and after a few shaky breaths whispered, “We’ll figure it out.”

He chuckled almost bitterly, and wondered how long she’d be able to put up with his anxiety. How long would it take for his fears to wear down her confidence.

She settled into a fitful sleep shortly after that, he stayed up a little bit longer, listening to her breath. Occasionally she would sigh or groan, or mutter his name in a pleading voice. Apparently he’d managed to infect her dreams with his bullshit.

Slowly, being careful not to disturb her anymore than he already had, he closed the distance between them and held her to his chest. Her curls tickled his nose, and he fell asleep trying to get up the energy to care.

All too soon, he woke up, and found her already awake. When she saw his eyes open, she started playing with his hair, and he drifted back to sleep.

When next he woke, it was because she was slipping out of his arms to get dressed. He watched her, trying to memorize every curve of her body as she stripped out of her nightgown and stepped into her underwear. She’d gained weight since they were married, most of it going to her hips and thighs, and some to her belly, but enough of it going to her chest that it had started hurting her back. At the advice of the town doctor, she’d transitioned to more structured underwear. Mostly corsets since the town tailor wasn’t that up to date on the latest in womans’ underwear.

Bruno was a fan of the switch, although it meant if he wanted to use her soft belly as a pillow for napping a bit of planning had to happen. That said, he loved the way she looked, and he loved that she wasn’t wincing every time she went down the stairs.

Since Luisa had gotten her gift almost a year ago and Leandra had taken up weight training, her shoulders had broadened, and the muscle she had had before moving into Casita had come back. Bruno wondered if it made him even more of a freak that he was happy to see her biceps return. He’d caught Leandra flexing once, looking very pleased with herself, so it couldn’t be that weird that he liked her like this, right?

She turned, and caught him staring.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her.

She smiled gently, then got that mischievous twinkle in her eye that sent a thrill up his spine, “Not that it’s a competition, but I would say my husband is just a little sexier than your wife.”

Bruno snorted, “Yeah, well, apparently my wife is a much better liar than your husband.”

“I’m pretty sure your wife is telling the truth and you should listen to her.”

“You would say that, you always take her side,” he huffed, but couldn’t keep a small smirk from pulling up the corners of his lips.

She chuckled, “Well, she tends to be right about most things.”

“Hmm,” he slowly got out of bed, stretched, grimaced at the cacophony of sounds his back made, then walked over to her, “she does, but this time she’s trying to argue that I’m sexier than her while she’s standing around in her corset and panties.”

Leandra looked down at herself, he doubted she was able to see past her rather prominent chest, “Hm, I suppose the outfit does hurt my argument a little.”

“Hurts it? Mí reina, it murders the argument, brutally,” Bruno wrapped his arms around her and muttered next to her ear, “it’s very gruesome really.”

“Yeah, well if you could hear what your voice sounds like when you first wake up in the morning you would know that your argument is just as dead,” she retorted, even as she leaned her head so he could better access her neck.

He smiled as he pressed a kiss to the place her broad shoulder met her sensitive throat. He opened his mouth to leave a love bite right below her chin, when the rats started squeaking at him. Hearing the squeaking, Leandra’s dog bounded through the tent flaps and began nosing at her leg. They both sighed.

“Yours started it this time,” Leandra grumbled.

“Oh believe me, I’ll be having a word with them later,” he said, even as he exited the tent to give his beloved little assholes their breakfast.

The cave’s entrance was gone.

He stared at the stone wall where it should have been.

It did not reappear.

“Um, mi reina? Did you uh, did you move the door?”

“What?” she stepped out of the tent, buttoning up her blouse, “Oh. Huh.”

“Sí.”

They stared at the stone wall some more.

“Where’s the light coming from?” Leandra asked, stepping further out of the tent so she could better look around. She stared up at some holes just below the ceiling, that were filled with glass prisms in order to channel the light in, “Huh. If this doesn’t turn out to be an emergency, that’s actually kind of neat.”

Then she turned and began looking around the rest of the cave. Bruno joined her inspection and quickly noticed two things, the first was that their pool was gone, the second was a new tunnel behind the tent.

Leandra came to stand beside him and they stared at the new tunnel together. 

“Boof,” Leandra’s dog, Queso gruffed, sitting next to her empty food bowl.

“Do you mind? We’re sort of dealing with something,” Leandra said to the dog.

Unconcerned, Queso replied, “A-woof.”

With a chuckle and some eye rolling, Leandra walked over to the cabinet they now kept their pet supplies in and fed her dog. Meanwhile, Bruno took care of his rats, putting the three girls away so the four boys could wander around the cave to their hearts’ content. Once all the pets were sorted, they returned to staring at the new tunnel.

“I-I guess we should see where it leads,” Bruno said, rubbing nervously at his arm.

“I guess so,” she nodded, then glanced down at her boots, she was wearing one of the very fashionable pairs Bruno had gotten for her, “I’m going to put on some better walking shoes.”

Bruno looked down at his pajamas, a ratty old shirt and comfy linen pants, “Hm, I’ll get dressed.”

They returned to their tent and Leandra went to her wardrobe to switch out her boots. Bruno took off his shirt and tossed it on the bed then startled when his wife wolf whistled at him. He blushed, grinning sheepishly as he took his pajama pants off as well. She responded by clapping.

When he put some trousers on she booed.

“W-well I’m not going in there in my underwear,” he said, trying not to laugh as he pulled a shirt on over his head.

“Naked is also an option,” she pointed out.

“Reina,” he groaned, giving her a look of fond exasperation.

“Guapo,” she breathed, giving him a look that usually ended up with them in bed.

“We- we- need to get this whole, uh tunnel thing figured out,” he said, blushing crimson and hoping she would argue.

She pouted and heaved an exaggerated sigh, “I suppose you’re right.”

“I mean, I-I could be wrong.”

Leandra giggled, kissing him on her way out of the tent. With a last forlorn look at the bed he pulled his ruana on and followed her. He found her standing at the edge of the tunnel, hands on her hips. When he joined her, she wrapped one arm around his and together they marched into the tunnel.

The sunlight channeled into the cave by the glass prisms faded and darkness slowly swallowed them. Up ahead, the tunnel was lit by glowing green rectangles in the walls. Bruno watched those rectangles approach, and wondered what visions they would be. Maybe a few of his favorites? Or some that had impacted him the most over the years?

They reached the visions and Bruno gulped, very carefully not looking at Leandra as they passed the same image over and over and over.

“I uh, I can’t help but notice a theme here,” Leandra pointed out, after the silence had become too heavy.

Bruno let out a high nervous chuckle, “Y-yeah, a lot of uh, o-of rock.”

“I was referring to the fact that the tunnel is lit by that vision of us old and happy together.”

“Hm? Oh, sí, I uh I guess it is.”

“Bruno-.”

“Oh look, sunlight,” he all but shouted, as a glimmer of golden light appeared just in time. He disentangled himself from her and jogged ahead, reaching the light seconds before her. He could almost swear he’d seen an exit out of the corner of his eye, but when turned to look at it, it was gone.

“Huh, so that’s where the pond went,” Leandra noted.

Indeed, the natural pool that used to be next to their tent now sat in the middle of this new cave. Shattered visions sparkled in the walls and ceiling, and more of those prisms channeled light in from the outside. There were rocks along the pool’s edge now, some perfect for sitting on, some perfect for lying on, and some perfect for jumping off.

“It’s nice,” he said.

“Oh yeah, real pretty, but where’s the exit?”

“Well…” he trailed off, pointing at another tunnel on the opposite side of the cave.

Leandra puffed a sharp breath at a wayward curl, “Getting to breakfast is going to take forever.”

“Ay dios, I do not want to wait this long for my coffee every morning,” he wiped a hand over his face.

“Come on, we got this,” she took his hand and all but dragged him onward. After a few steps he matched pace with her, glancing back over his shoulder at where he thought he’d seen the door. Probably just an optical illusion, he told himself.

Like the last tunnel, this one was lit by visions, or rather the same vision. Them, old and in love, again and again.

Leandra kept sending him pointed looks.

Unlike the other tunnel, this one had twists and turns. They walked for a long time without seeing another cave or scrap of sunlight. The entire time Bruno did his best not to look directly at his wife, or the visions on the walls, while she did her best to catch his eye.

“They’re getting bigger, if you’re interested,” she suddenly said, and Bruno looked up to discover that yes, the tablets were getting bigger. Certainly much bigger than he could ever produce with a vision.

He watched them grow as they passed by.

“I-I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered and she made an unconvinced noise.

They walked on.

When they finally came to another cave, it was mostly empty, but the walls were filled with little pathways perfect for the rats. Bruno made a sound of interest and spent some time looking around at the little obstacle courses and mazes carved into the walls. He turned around grinning, only to see Leandra standing under the glass prisms, knocking on the solid stone wall with her ear pressed against it. She was frowning deeply.

Rather abruptly, he remembered they were a little trapped in here. He waited for her at the entrance to the next tunnel.

Eventually she shook her head and rejoined him.

Now the silence was punctuated by her occasional sighs. Bruno stared down at his toes as they ate up the ground below him. 

The ground tilted upward, so they were climbing a gentle hill. The visions on the wall were getting so large they were pressed together without an inch of stone between them. Bruno glanced guiltily at them, then looked at Leandra.

“So uh, I-I should probably, maybe tell you something,” he said.

“I think you probably should.”

Bruno grimaced, but powered on, “I’ve had this vision fifty two times.”

Leandra stopped walking, “Fifty two?”

“Fifty two.”

For a long time she didn’t respond, she just examined him, then in a quiet voice she asked, “Do you really doubt me that much?”

“Doubt-? What?! No! No, no, no. Of course not,” he shook his head quickly while holding his hands up as if to ward off the very idea, “I-I’m just checking-.”

“That I’ll still love you? That I’ll be loyal? That I won’t leave you?”

He pressed his lips together, “Ok well, when you put it like that it d-doesn’t sound great.”

Leandra shook her head and started walking again, her steps quick and closer to a stomp than anything else. Bruno followed inches behind her, waiting for her to say something.

They reached the next cave before she did, this one filled with shelves carved into the walls and big armchairs under ornate lamps.

“What do I have to do so you’ll trust me?” she asked, staring once again at the prisms that funneled in light.

“I do trust you,” he insisted.

“If you trusted me you would trust that I love you, that I would keep my vows,” she whirled around, her voice bounced off the smooth floor and ceiling of the cave, but the slight hitch in her breath was swallowed by the empty shelves, “you would trust that I’m committed to you.”

“O-of course you are,” Bruno stepped closer to her, reaching out to hold her, but she took a minute step back from him, he sighed, “ok, come on. It’s n-not that I think poorly of you, b-but I mean, being married to me isn’t easy. You probably wouldn’t have had to deal with anything like this i-if you married Omar.”

“I also never would have had a real orgasm,” she retorted, then advancing on him kept going, “or had somebody throw me a private ball, or laughed so hard I fell out of bed, or seen robots on Mars! If I had married anyone other than you, I would be just as dissatisfied as all the other poor wives in our village.”

“I-I mean they’re not all dissatisfied-.”

“Well, they’re certainly not as lucky as I am.”

Bruno gulped, staring at her as she crowded into his space, poking a finger into his chest. She opened her mouth to say something, made a frustrated sound, tried again, then with a snarl whirled away from him and into the next tunnel.

He stood for a few seconds, listening to her steps echoe away. Just when they had faded, the walls under the prism began to shift. With a great groan, a door opened in the wall.

“Leandra!” he yelled, running to the mouth of the tunnel, “Leandra quickly! There’s an exit!”

Her footsteps came back and soon he could see her emerging from the dark tunnel. He stood back, waiting for her, watching the door. Then, just as she got near, it began to close.

“No!” he shouted, rushing to the opening as if he could stop the rock, “no, no, no, no.”

The last crack of sunshine sealed itself up just as he reached the wall, and she entered the cave.

“It closed?!”

“Sí,” he banged somewhat desperately on the wall.

“Ugh,” she joined him and gave the wall a frustrated kick. Then she turned and sat against the wall, scowling at her knees.

After a moment’s hesitation, he sat next to her.

He twiddled his thumbs for a while.

Finally, he quietly cleared his throat then said, “I-I doubt every married woman in Encanto is unsatisfied.”

Leandra snorted, “I will admit, your sisters are probably very happy. And so is Rosalie. But that’s it, the rest chose crappy husbands.”

“You’re saying there are only four good husbands in the entire village?”

“Sí.”

“That’s unrealistic.”

“Oh yeah? You dated a man, how attentive to your needs was he?”

Bruno rolled his eyes, “Alberto doesn’t count, the only one of us with good taste in men is Julieta.”

She didn’t have to ask who “us” was, “I mean, Pepa did end up with Félix.”

“After dating some of the worst men god ever created, claro.”

Leandra didn’t initially respond, and when she did it was to change the subject, “You know, when most men start feeling insecure about their marriage, they cheat.”

“What?!” he wrinkled his nose, “No way, that’s-. If the goal is to not lose your wife, why would you do something guaranteed to make her hate you?”

“It’s true, why do you think Jose Sanchez cheated? First he was down at the cantina complaining to Felípe about how it was only a matter of time before his wife stepped out on him, then he was banging little Ellie.”

He gasped in horror, then hissed, “She’s barely nineteen.”

“I know, right?!” she shook her head, then shrugged, “But an older woman would have seen straight through his lies, soo…”

Bruno frowned, wondering what a man their age would even have to talk about with a nineteen year old. Then again, talking probably wasn’t the point. But still. Bruno had never understood people who could tell right away whether or not they wanted to have sex with somebody, he needed to have at least three conversations before he knew whether or not he was attracted to that person.

He’d had passing conversations with Leandra when buying cheese from her what must have been hundreds of times before he realized how beautiful she was. He remembered the moment it clicked for him very clearly, he had handed her a vision of dead goats and she had sighed morosely, then said, “Well shit. Thanks for the warning. Hope it wasn’t too gruesome for you, watching it happen I mean.” He had stuttered a response, and she had wished him well before leaving to take the vision back to her father, the goat herder. 

It was only a year or two after that, that he started to get to know her, and fell in love with her.

“My point is, you start feeling insecure about whether or not I love you, and suddenly I have to fight tooth and nail to do chores. You’re a good husband Bruno, a wonderful, amazing husband, in fact.”

He looked at her, searching her face, “It-, I-I know you think that… now. It’s-do you really want to spend the rest of your life being Bad Luck Bruno’s...”

He trailed off, not daring to repeat the nickname he’s overheard some of the less pleasant men in the village call her.

“Being Bad Luck Bruno’s whore?” she finished for him, “Better your whore than the madonna of any of the guys who call me that.”

“B-but just the fact that people call you that at all! You shouldn’t have to deal with that!”

“And you should?!” Leandra huffed, “Come on, I knew people were going to be assholes about us when we married. Honestly, it’s kind of fun.”

“Fun?!”

“Well yeah, makes me feel like I’m some sort of rebel,” she gave him a small smirk, “here I am, married to THE big bad Bruno, reputation be damned.”

“The ‘big’ bad Bruno?” he asked, flatly.

“Alright, the normal sized when he stands up straight but otherwise short, bad Bruno.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Now there’s a title.”

“I like being your wife, I don’t know how many ways I can say that before I start sounding like a broken record.”

Bruno let his head fall back against the rock and blew out a long breath, until his lungs felt like flattened balloons, then he took just as long breathing in. It didn’t calm him down like he was hoping, but nothing really ever seemed to calm him down.

“Bruno?”

“I-I just, I just want to make it all worth it.”

“Bruno, if you’re trying to pay me to love you, then I really am your whore.”

He squawked indigently at that, “What? I’m not-. I just want to give you as much as you give me.”

Leandra shook her head, then leaned over so she was resting against him, “And I’m trying to tell you that you already do.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

He leaned his cheek against her hair and scowled at one of the armchairs.

“Because why, Bruno?”

“Because being married to you is easy,” he finally said, “you don’t have migraines, you don’t snore, you don’t have surprise visions of the future, you’re not the reason there’s always sand in our bed, the village didn’t hate you until you married me, you have a cute laugh-.”

“Hey! You have a cute laugh too!”

“I sound like a donkey choking on a kazoo.”

Leandra pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to giggle, and despite it all it still gave him a sense of satisfaction that he said something his wife found funny, “That’s- no you don’t. I mean, it’s a bit loud, and you do sorta wheeze a little, but it’s sweet. Charming.”

“Charming?!”

“Sí. It’s charming, I am charmed by it.”

“Well, at least I’m bringing good taste to this marriage,” he muttered, “that’s clearly something you don’t have.”

She elbowed him, “I have great taste!”

“You think asphyxiating donkeys are charming.”

“Oh hush! You’re wonderful, deal with it.”

He smiled quietly, and for her sake made an effort to believe that. When he couldn’t he sighed and turned his head so he could kiss her curls. 

“We should keep looking for the exit,” he said.

“It was right here,” Leandra retorted, “clearly there’s some trick to making it appear.”

He made a thoughtful sound, thinking about what he had been doing when the stone walls opened up. Honestly, he had just been standing there, listening to her leave.

“What were you doing when I called your name?”

“Muttering angrily about my stupid, sexy husband.”

“Hm, I guess we might as well try it.”

“Claro, why not? ‘Fucking Bruno, been married six years and he doesn’t even trust me’-.”

“I do trust you though,” he interjected.

“Right, which is why you’ve felt the need to check whether or not I’ll still love you when we’re old fifty two times.”

He huffed, and stood up, “You don’t get it.”

“No, no I don’t,” Leandra also stood, following him as he stormed into the tunnel, “I don’t understand how you can’t see how wonderful you are. I don’t understand why you don’t believe I love you.”

“I believe you,” he said, insisted really, since he’d already told her he believed her.

“If you believed I love you then you wouldn’t be worried about me leaving when the going gets tough.”

“The goings already tough, the goings been tough, and it’s going to keep being tough. For the rest of your life. Do you really want to put up with that?”

“Yes. Of course I do, why don’t you get that?”

“Because I wouldn’t,” he whirled around, and she stopped abruptly to keep from trampling him, “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being the bad guy. I hate the way-. I’m stuck with this, but you’re not, you can leave. You can have a better life.”

Leandra frowned, “If our situations were reversed, w-would you not want to be with me?”

He froze, brought up short by the question, then quietly said, “They wouldn’t be. If you could do what I do, you’d probably, I don't know, you’re always so good at putting a positive spin on my visions. You’re good at-, you’re good with people. It’s-. If you were-. Of course I’d want to be with you, you’re amazing.”

“But say I didn’t put a positive spin on the visions, I have a shorter temper than you, say I got frustrated with people and started throwing the tablets at their heads and everybody hated me for it. Would you still want to be with me, if it came with the same challenges I face being with you?”

Bruno gulped, because he knew the answer, but he didn’t know what it meant. He thought about lying, just so he could avoid losing this argument, but he couldn’t hurt her like that.

“Yes, I would still want to be with you.”

“So why are you so worried about me leaving you?”

“I-I…”

She waited for him to come up with an answer. He stared at her helplessly, but looking into her warm brown eyes he could see her settling in to wait forever if she had to. He could see her preparing herself to give him all the time he needed. Abruptly he turned and sped walked away.

Behind him she made a frustrated sound.

After a few beats, he heard her start to follow him.

He reached the next cave, there was a doorway on the far wall but as she approached, it closed.

A horrible thought crept in from a dark corner of his mind. He tried to shove it aside.

“Oh, well, this is interesting.”

Bruno turned to see what she meant, then wished he hadn’t. The only thing in the cave was a plush chair on a raised dias. He would have called it a throne, but thrones don’t have chains and manacles. Leandra drifted closer to it, then abruptly stopped and backed away.

“Do we want to discuss this?” she asked him.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about why you’re worried I’ll leave you?”

“Also no.”

“Do you want to spend the rest of our lives in these tunnels avoiding necessary conversations just because they’re hard?”

Bruno didn’t answer.

“Bruno?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Leandra rolled her eyes and crossed the cave to the next tunnel, he watched her go. Waited as her footsteps faded. Then he turned to the wall under the glass prisms. 

When he couldn’t hear her anymore, the stone shifted, opened. Slowly, Bruno walked through the doorway. It closed behind him.

He turned, for a second worried he wouldn’t be able to get back to her, but when he reached for the stone, it opened again. Bruno breathed a sigh of relief. He stood in the doorway, so it couldn’t close again, and looked out at his room. They were halfway up the canyon.

He re-entered the cave and followed her down the tunnel, trying to figure out how he would explain his discovery to her.

Leandra was waiting for him in the next cave. A room that seemed to be devoted to arts and crafts.

Under different circumstances he would be thrilled.

Idly playing with some scissors, she asked, “So, if you don’t want to talk about our marriage-?”

“I uh, I figured out how to make the exit appear.”

She put the scissors down, surprisingly, her face paled. There was dread in her eyes as she waited for him to continue.

“It-. You-. I can leave. B-but uh.”

“But I can’t,” she whispered.

He nodded.

Leandra closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, “Alright, we’re hashing this out.”

Bruno looked down at his toes, he braced himself for her next question.

“Why are you worried I’ll leave you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “Leandra, I don’t know why I-. I know it isn’t logical, I know you love me, I know my vision will come true. I know you’ve already faced so much by being with me, a-and it hasn’t changed how you treat me. B-but I just can’t stop worrying-.”

He paused to groan and stalk over to one of the crafting tables. He threw himself down on the chair by the table and put his head in his hands. 

Her boots clicked closer and a warm hand appeared on his shoulder.

“I-it’s not just that I worry you’ll leave. I worry you’ll get sick and-. O-or every time you get a cut or splinter I worry it’ll get infected and Juli won’t be able to-. I worry I’ll lose you. That my life will go back to the way it was before w-we started dating, only worse. Because now Pepa and Julieta are so busy with their kids-. Why am I like this?!”

Leandra wrapped her strong arms around him and a sense of peace flooded him, he closed his eyes while he leaned on her.

“If I didn’t have to deal with the knocking, and the salt, with the obsessing and the worrying and all the stupid rules I make so I can feel ok, i-if I could just, just, not have these problems,” he shrugged, “I wouldn’t.”

Bruno didn’t say anything else, he didn’t have anything left to say.

He listened to Leandra breathe and tried to match his breaths to hers. She drew in a breath as if to say something, then slowly blew it out.

“I-I guess that makes me a little selfish, if I had the opportunity to get rid of all your obsessing, I don’t know that I would,” Leandra finally said, “I would be too worried that if I changed any of the inconvenient things about you, that would change the wonderful stuff as well.”

He turned in the chair so he could wrap his arms around her waist.

She started rubbing his back.

“Although, I- now that I’ve seen how much it hurts you, I guess I wouldn’t be able to not-. Bruno, your obsessing and knocking and worrying sometimes drives me up the wall, or makes me feel concerned about you, but it doesn’t hurt me the way it’s hurting you,” her voice wobbled, “I-I won’t be driven off by all that stuff because it’s just not as big a problem for me as it is for you.”

“It is now,” he said, voice muffled against her stomach.

There was a pause, then he felt her shift, he was pretty sure she was shrugging but didn’t care to lift his head to check, “We’ll figure this out. I won’t be trapped in here forever. We’ve got this.”

“Ay, I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you too.”

They drifted into a contemplative silence. He turned what she had said over and over. She had long since shared her opinion that you couldn’t love somebody unless they occasionally annoyed the hell out of you, so he felt alright hearing that his worrying annoyed her. He could deal with that.

And he was glad she wasn’t suffering from this stuff the way he was. 

But now that she had put the fact that the obsessing was hurting him into words, it was suddenly hard to ignore how much pain he was in. He sniffled, then tried to swallow back the tears. It didn’t work and they started flowing, swiftly followed by sobs.

Leandra held him, waiting it out.

Her feet must have hurt by the time he was calmed down, but she didn’t budge or complain.

“Sorry, I got your blouse all uh-,” he pulled back and gesture at the stain of snot and tears on her shirt.

“That’s alright, my stupid, sexy husband is constantly buying me gifts I don’t need,” she said, “I have a bunch of blouses I haven’t had the chance to wear.”

He chuckled, then groaned, “I have bought you a lot of stuff, haven’t I?”

“You really have.”

“What are you going to do with all the scarves I got you? You don’t wear scarves!”

“I don’t know, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Do you think the fact I’m always buying you expensive gifts is why those men…”

“Why some people assume you’ve bought your way into my heart? Probably. Although it’s sorta a weird assumption considering you very publicly saved me from being raped. You would think the number one theory would be I fell in love with you because of that.”

“It’s what I thought.”

“It’s a very straight forward assumption. Incorrect, but straight forward.”

He sighed, staring at her stained shirt, “Even now, even though I-I’ve just listed all the reasons this fear isn’t logical, I’m still-. Why am I like this?”

“Maybe the constant worrying is a side effect of the visions?”

“Maybe,” he said, then with a slight grimace, countered, “although, sometimes the ability to, you know, check to make sure the thing I’m worried about isn’t going to happen, well, sometimes it helps.”

“Hm, well that was my only idea, sorry.”

Bruno chuckled dryly, then slowly he stood, “L-Let’s go back to the tent, a-and try to figure out how to get you out of here.”

Leandra nodded, and held out her hand for him to take. He did so and they started the journey back down to the beginning. The visions on the walls had returned themselves to a normal size, which Bruno took as a good sign.

When they got down to the first cave Queso was laying down on her bed, cleaning one of the rats. Leandra had tried training her to see the rats as herd animals to be guarded, but had to compromise and instead train her to see them as puppies. Apparently, small furry things that made squeaking noises when they wanted food had more in common with mountain dog pups than they did goats.

Queso thumped her tail at them, distracted by their entrance long enough for the now very damp rat to escape his bath.

Undeterred, Queso found another rat and began bathing him instead.

Bruno sighed, “I thought you got her to stop that.”

“Box likes it when she bathes him, so he’s been undermining me,” she said, pointing out Box, who was creeping ever closer to Queso.

Bruno narrowed his eyes at Box. He was one of the younger rats, and a bit of a trouble maker. To be honest, Bruno wouldn’t be surprised if Box was only pretending to like doggie baths because he somehow knew Leandra was trying to train Queso out of them.

He shook his head and pushed through the tent flaps, he would have to figure out how to get Box to behave after he figured out how to free Leandra.

Bruno sat slowly on his cushion pile, and once she had changed into a clean shirt, Leandra followed, pressing herself to his side. After a split second of hesitation, he wrapped himself around her, and pulled her legs over his lap. Leandra didn’t protest, seemingly content to let him cling to her like an octopus. Her chest could be best described as pillowy, so he rested his head on it.

“So.”

“So,” he agreed.

They both thought for a little, then she asked, “What would make you… not worried that you’ll lose me?”

“Well, first of all you need to be immortal,” Bruno muttered, “and second, you have to let me trap you in a labrynth so you can never escape. Oh wait!”

“Come on Bruno, we’re trying to solve this, remember?”

“I know, I know,” he said, “b-but now the self loathing is setting in.”

“Does it ever go away?”

He didn’t respond at first, then decided to change the subject, “So, getting you out of here. M-maybe if I go have that vision again-.”

“You’ve had it fifty two times, are you going to have to have that same vision every time I want to get out of bed in the morning?”

He made a thoughtful noise, “Well, there are definitely worse visions to have everyday.”

“What if… what if you had a worse vision,” Leandra gulped, “if you saw something you don’t like, that disproved something you’re afraid of, w-would it help?”

Bruno didn’t like the sound of this, but asked, “What are you thinking?”

“You said you're worried about me dying any time I get a little hurt, so what if you had a vision of, you know…”

“Leandra,” he breathed, lifting his head, “I-I don’t want to watch you die.”

“I know, but would it help? If you knew for sure when it was going to happen, would you stop expecting it to happen every second?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded once, tensely saying, “Sí. It would help.”

Leandra also nodded, then shrugged, “Ok, then let’s put that solution in the maybe column and try to come up with something we like better.”

Bruno nodded, he desperately cast about for another solution to suggest, something to knock that one down to an unneeded last resort.

After a while, he groaned, cheeks warming up as he thought of something.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Um.”

“Do you have an idea?”

“S-sort of? Actually, uh, no. No I don’t.”

She paused, then said, “Bruno.”

He sighed, “Do you uh, do you remember when I-, when we-. You know what? It’s-, I can think of something else, just give me a moment.”

“Now hold on, now you got me all curious,” Leandra gave him a squeeze, “when we did what?”

He screwed his eyes shut and in a rush said, “When you let me tie you up?”

“Oh,” he didn’t dare open his eyes while he waited for her to say more, in case his embarrassment had taken a physical form and was waiting for eye contact to attack, “sí, I remember. That was good.”

He peeked an eye open, so he could search her face for sincerity, “Was it?”

“Sí, it was,” she said, and she seemed sincere, “did it live up to your expectations?”

“I uh, sort of? It,” he gulped, but forced himself to keep going, “I-I ended up liking it in a different way than I expected.”

“How so?”

“Well, I um, I thought the best part would b-be being able to do what I want without you rushing me,” he admitted, “b-but I actually-, I just kept thinking about h-how much you must trust me, t-to let me do that.”

“Oh, of course I trust you, you’d never hurt me,” Leandra said, and he felt both very warm and very hot.

“A-anyways, after we uh we did that, I-I felt, I don’t know, not as worried. I guess. More confident.”

“So, would you like to do it again?”

“If you don’t mind, we don’t have to, we can think of-.”

“I want to, Bruno, I do,” she began playing with one of his curls, “honestly I would have asked sooner but I assumed it wasn’t as fun for you as it was for me.”

Bruno felt surprise ripple through him then slowly asked, “Why? Did- was tying me up not uh, not fun for you?”

“Meh, it was a few extra steps, I didn’t mind, but uh you usually let me do whatever I want anyway,” she gave him a somewhat sheepish grin, “and you know how much I hate waiting. I liked when you let me blindfold you though.”

He blushed, and averted his eyes, chuckling nervously, “I-, yeah. That was good. But it’s like you said, I thought it was more fun for me than it was for you.”

“Ay, por favor, you have no idea how impossible that is,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

He smiled, but didn’t say anything. When they first got together, they had each made a list of things they wanted to try, and for the first year of their marriage they had worked their way through it. Leandra had asked to repeat some of the things she’d liked a few times, but he’d never had the courage. Eventually, Leandra had stopped asking for any of the fancy stuff, probably because he never got up the nerve to tell her how much he enjoyed all that.

Bruno braced himself, “I liked playing the villain too.”

“Really?” Leandra said, voice becoming rather eager. The Villain was a favorite of hers, well theirs, but he’d never told her that before.

“Sí. It was nice, you know, actually being as horrible as everybody thinks I am, and still being wanted,” he said, managing not to stutter through some miracle.

“You are very wanted, villain or no villain,” Leandra said, then added, “but also, The Villain is very, very wanted. I like how confident you get, and it always seems like you’re having the time of your life.”

“It is fun, and not just in a sexy way.”

“It is so fun,” she agreed, “I keep telling you you need to try out for the town play. You are such a joy to watch.”

He rolled his eyes, rasping out a dry laugh, and almost gave her the usual excuse. Then he paused, and instead told her, “I don’t think I could-. If I tried out a-and did well, and they still turned me down just because… because I’m me, I don’t think I could-.”

He cut himself off, swallowing thickly. 

Leandra didn’t respond at first.

“Oh,” she eventually said, “I never thought of that.”

“Really?”

She shrugged beneath him, “Since you do seem to be unaware, I am absolutely smitten with you. Head over heels, sun shines out your ass, in love with you. I don’t really-, I’ve never really understood the Bad Luck Bruno thing, even before we got to know each other. And now you’re my wonderful husband, who buys me too many expensive things, and tries to take over my chores, and has stopped letting me go down on him because even when he’s feeling insecure he’s still the sweetest man ever. I would throw myself into every mud puddle I could find if I thought it would make you laugh, work my fingers to the bone if I thought you wanted diamonds and gold, and walk to the end of the earth and back just to spend time with you. I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t.”

He squeezed her tighter, when he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he said, “I don’t mind if you go down on me.”

“Except, apparently you fucking do,” Leandra huffed, “because you haven’t let me in five months.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been-.”

“It has though,” she pushed him until she could look him in the eye, “it’s enough to make a girl think you don’t like what she’s doing down there.”

“No! No, I love the things you do.”

“Then let me do them!��

“Ok, claro,” he held his hands up in surrender.

“Do you promise? Because you are always saying you’re going to let me do chores and then-.”

“Sí, I promise,” he nodded, then mimed crossing his heart.

Leandra examined him, then pulled him back into her arms while muttering, “Test it after this is taken care of.”

He gulped, and kept his lips sealed tightly shut.

She took a few deep breaths, calming her irritation.

They both waited for the other to say something.

Leandra eventually sighed and said, “I’ve been feeling off kilter, I don’t want to make you feel bad, but having you constantly dote on me makes me feel like the relationship isn’t even. Like I’m trying to catch up to all the nice stuff you’ve done, but you won’t pause long enough to let me. I feel like-, like if I say the wrong thing, I’ll completely destroy you, and I hate that feeling.”

“I kinda figured,” he admitted, “sometimes the anxiety settles long enough for me to actually think straight, a-and then I start thinking about how not fun this all must be for you. Which, you know, just ends up feeding right back into the anxiety, so. It’s a whole-, it’s this whole vicious cycle thing.”

She sighed again, “It’s not fair.”

“The way I treat you?”

“The things you have to deal with,” she corrected him, and when he lifted his head from her chest, she was pouting up at their tent’s ceiling, “you have all these visions that ram into you like a steam engine, migraines, fears that defy your sense of reason, the villagers are all assholes, and nobody knows how to help. It’s not fair.”

Bruno almost started crying again, he closed his eyes and lay his head back on her shoulder, with a stuttering breath he said, “I-it kinda helps hearing somebody other than me say that.”

She kissed his head, “I’ve been thinking it a while, I didn’t see the full extent of all this when we were dating. I knew things weren’t great, but I just didn’t-. Now that-. It’s not that I haven’t noticed your life is hard, or that being married to you has challenges, it’s just that I don’t have the right words to-. I feel like a toddler stamping her feet, but all I can think to say about all of it is it’s not fair.”

“You’re overwhelmed?”

“A little,” she paused, “you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he squeezed her and muffled his words against her shoulder, “this is what my life’s been like since I was five.”

She took a few aborted breaths, started a few aborted sentences, then repeated once again, “It’s not fair.”

Bruno lifted his head again, he examined her face and met her warm brown eyes. They sparkled with unshed tears. He shifted his weight so he could rest his forehead against hers, “It’s alright mí reina, I’m alright. I’m better, happier, with you in my life.”

“I’m still pretty sure I have married the most wonderful person in the world,” she told him, “I don’t think a better life is possible, than the one you’ve given me.”

He smiled softly, and kissed her. They lay there, gently sucking on each other’s lips for a while. When they parted, Bruno lay down next to her on the cushion pile so they were both staring up at the cloth ceiling.

“Anything else you can think of that’ll help?” she eventually asked, “Should I stop bringing up budgets every time you get me another super expensive gift?”

He laughed sheepishly, “A-actually, since we’re uh being honest, the gifts are uh are more of an ego thing.”

“They-, what?”

“I mean, they do make me feel a little better, temporarily of course, but um for the most part I just like that I can give you those things,” he said, turning to look at her, “I don’t know, I don’t usually care about feeling like a man, b-but that must be what that feeling is, right? When I see you wearing something nobody else could have afforded to get you and I feel all tall. That must be-. It’s definitely some sort of pride.”

Leandra looked a little more shocked than he felt his admission warranted, then she laughed a little, “It’s never occurred to me that you might have a bit of an ego.”

“I uh, I don’t about most things,” he allowed, then shrugged, “b-but for some reason, I do about this.”

“Huh, ok, we’ll have to talk about that later,” she said, “I still would prefer if we had some sort of budget.”

Bruno bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that they didn’t need one, that for all of his gift’s many faults, it turned him into a walking emerald mine. He could basically just make her gems out of thin air, or technically out of sand, but still. Monetarily, he could give her things nobody else could, and a part of him wanted everybody in town to know it. He remembered how much people had pitied her when they first got together, a part of him wanted to not just shower her in emeralds, but rub the fact that he was showering her in emeralds in everybody’s face.

All the same, he decided he would at least hear her out before he ignored the budget and got her another pair of earrings.

“So! Other things to help you feel secure,” she barreled on, and he turned his head once more to watch her screw her face up in thought, “renewing our vows? Would that help?”

“Maybe on our tenth anniversary,” he shrugged, “it’ss… it really isn’t you, mi reina. It’s me, it’s all this stuff I’m bringing to the relationship that, that-, well, that you have to put up with. A-and I know, to a certain extent, that you don’t mind as much as I do, but I-. It’s like you said before, I feel uneven, I feel like I’m constantly trying to make up for how much I put you through.”

“But you’re not putting me through it, none of these extra challenges are your fault.”

“I know! But it doesn’t matter what I know, I still feel-. There’s a big difference between knowing something and believing it,” he slowly shook his head, “and I just can’t get myself to believe it’s not my fault I’m like this. That being me- I mean, being with me, could possibly be worth it.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you mean ‘being with you’ or do you mean ‘being you’ isn’t worth it?”

Bruno didn’t look at her, he let the sentence revolve around his head for a few seconds and very carefully didn’t look at her.

Eventually, finally, he said, “Both. Depending on the day.”

Leandra sighed and they sat in silence for a few beats.

“When I’m with my sisters, when I’m with you, or any of the kids, or even Félix and Agustín, I like my life. All this stuff, the visions, the obsessive worrying, the sand in uncomfortable places, it’s worth it to be somebody who gets to be with my familia,” he kept going, voice a quiet croak, “b-but then I worry that I’m asking too much, being too clingy. And sometimes I get overwhelmed you know? Sometimes I need time alone even if it means being alone with my thoughts. It all just feels like such a burden, and I can’t get over the feeling I have no right to ask you to help carry it.”

“I’m catching the theme that it doesn’t matter what I say, I can’t change how you feel,” she said, voice wobbling just a little.

“Believe me, I’ve been trying to talk sense into myself for years,” he answered, squeezing her hand.

“All the same, I’m happily volunteering to help carry any and all of your burdens,” she said, then paused and thought for a little, “Do you want to do chores with Agustín, Félix and I? Without having to take the sponge out of my hand mid scrub?”

“Would- would that be alright? I don’t want to-, you deserve time apart from me.”

“Ah yes, because that’s what I was hoping for when we got married, time apart from you,” she muttered sarcastically, then in a brighter voice said, “Sí, if I really need some me time, or to discuss something in private, I’ll just tell you that. I know you’ll understand, I trust you.”

“Then uh, yeah, I would like that, if you think they won’t mind,” Bruno nodded.

“Of course they won’t, they love you,” she waved his worry off, “you’re their brother.”

He smiled quietly, “I hope so. That they see me as a brother, that is. I uh, that’s how I see them.”

“They do.”

He rolled back onto his side and she followed suit. They stared at eachother contemplatively for a while.

“I do genuinely believe my life is better with you as a husband,” Leandra eventually told him in a quiet voice, “in case you’ve forgotten, I broke up with Omar because he didn’t believe Rosalie, even when I was vouching for her. I didn’t think I would have been as happy married to him as I am with you.”

“There are other men in the village.”

“Most of whom also refused to listen to Rosalie and I,” she argued, “you’re sweet, and you respect me, and you care about what I want in life. Add in the fact that you’re sexy as hell and I really hit gold.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

She didn’t have to ask what part he doubted most, “Hey! You are sexy, really, really sexy. Don’t roll your eyes.”

“What can I say, I’m not my type.”

“Then you really do have crappy taste in men.”

He scoffed, “You’re the one who thinks asphyxiating donkeys are sexy.”

“Ay, I do not think asphyxiating donkeys are sexy, I think they’re charming, keep it straight,” she swatted his shoulder, “I think your hair, your cheekbones, your jawline, your beard, your stubble, your voice, your hands, and your chest hair are sexy. Also your calves… and your eyes, when they’re glowing. When they’re not glowing they’re beautiful, which is just as good as sexy, but a different vibe.”

“Well I think your eyebrows are sexy so clearly I’m better at picking a spouse than you.”

“Your eyebrows are sexy,” she said defensively.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to add things now, you made your list-.”

“Well, if we only get one shot, then the only thing on your list is eyebrows, so clearly-.”

“Wait, hold on, that’s different.”

“No it isn’t, I win, you lose, my spouse is sexier than yours. So there.”

He laughed, then when he caught her giving him a warm grin made a couple of donkey noises at her. She giggled, curling forward until her forehead was against his.

“This is worth everything,” she breathed, when her giggles petered out, “do you think everybody gets to feel this way?”

“They should,” he responded, “if the world was fair, everybody would get to feel this way about somebody at least once.”

She nodded minutely, the motion limited by their point of contact, then tilted so that she could kiss him. He smiled into the kiss.

When she pulled back he asked, “Can you see why the thought of losing this has me acting crazy?”

“Sí. Can you see why the thought of losing this keeps me sane?”

He inhaled sharply, blinking a few times, then muttered, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.”

“Have to be an idiot to give this up,” she pecked him on the lips again.

“And you’re not an idiot,” he murmured.

“Thank you for noticing.”

“De nada,” he said, faintly, automatically. She giggled a little.

The light from outside the tent shifted, becoming just a tiny bit brighter, the change was so small that Bruno almost didn’t notice it. He sat up and stared at the tent flap, slowly, barely daring to hope, he stood and walked to the tent’s entrance. He heard Leandra get up and follow him.

He opened the flap.

Leandra laughed out of sheer joy, “We did it!”

She raced past him to the newly formed exit, well, newly reformed exit to the cave. The sand curtain didn’t split for her like it did for him, but she didn’t let that stop her from running straight through it. 

He followed her at a much more sedate pace. When the sand curtain opened, she was standing by his storytelling tent, grinning at him.

He smiled back at her.

“Come on, don’t you want some coffee?” she said.

“Breakfast is probably over by now,” he pointed out, even as he started up the stairs.

“I’m sure Juli left some food aside for us, actually, I’m kinda surprised they didn’t come looking for us,” she caught up with him and grabbed his hand.

“Maybe they did, found the cave sealed up, then left to get mining supplies,” he shrugged.

She laughed, “Then we better let them know we’re free. Come on, let’s go eat, then we’re gonna come back here, and you’re finally going to let me blow you.”

Bruno felt his cheeks burn, “Only if you promise you want to.”

“I do want to,” she gave his hand a squeeze, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. It seemed that no matter how much time passed, he still struggled to respond to her advances.

Bruno stopped at the door, he needed to make some changes, he knew that. And there was no time like the present.

“After uh after you do that, I um would like to do one of the other things we talked about,” he told her, not quite meeting her eyes.

She kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that was filled to the brim with promises, “I would like that.”

“Great,” he said, although it sounded like a choked squeak, he cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean, great.”

Leandra gave him one more mischievous grin, then grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

He was almost bowled over by the wall of noise that greeted them. Leandra’s grin dropped as they raced over to the railing and looked down into the courtyard. It was filled with people, many of whom were shouting. After pausing for a second, Bruno realized they were shouting questions and one voice kept saying, “Please, save him!”

Julieta suddenly raced out of the kitchen with their Má at her heels, shouting, “Step aside, everybody move.”

The crowd parted, revealing the last person Bruno had ever expected to see again. Kneeling on Casita’s tiles was Señor Gutiérrez, he clutched a baby to his chest with one arm, and with the other supported the head of a young boy who was laid across his lap.

The boy was bleeding and bruised, he didn’t seem to be either conscious or unconscious, he muttered unintelligibly, awake but unaware to the world around him.

Bruno rushed down the stairs, still holding Leandra’s hand. After a few steps, she seemed to process what was happening and began walking even faster than him. They reached Señor Gutiérrez just after Julieta had placed a shred of an arepa in the boy’s mouth.

The boy didn’t respond, and the arepa shred hung loosely from his lips. Señor Gutiérrez made a high, distressed sound.

The baby started to fuss.

Bruno was closest to the baby, without having to think about it, he stepped forward and gently pried the infant from the other man’s arms. Señor Gutiérrez barely noticed, so focused on trying to get the boy to chew.

He gently cupped the baby's head, like he had done with his nieces and nephew so many times before. The baby blinked up at him, struggling against the blanket they were swaddled in, eventually a pudgy little hand reached out for him. He gave the baby his finger and they gripped it with all the strength an infant could muster.

It wasn't that all of Bruno's fears suddenly disappeared, on the contrary, he suddenly had triple the worries he did before. But he knew how to do this, he knew how to hold a baby, how to comfort a fussing child.

That was what he did, took care of the baby girl in his arms, allowing everybody else to focus on saving Gabriel. The rest of the day rushed by in a confused panic, and by the time he and Leandra had a minute to talk about the labyrinth they'd woken up in, they were parents.

Somehow, every worry Bruno had the day before seemed to pale in comparison to that.

[chiss-ticism]

Full credit goes to this Picrew for the above image!!!

Okay, I know - A V*ntrue… How could I ever hope to live down the shame of willingly subjecting myself to the V*ntrue… Well to that I respond: I won't. She simply moved into my brain and has refused to budge since inception. She's my awful roommate and we're both stuck with one another until she or I reaches Final Death.

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Eliza Doyle.

PREDATOR TYPE: Scene Queen.

CLAN: Ventrue.

GENERATION: 12th.

D.O.B.: April 1st, 1932.

D.O.D.: May 10th, 1979.

Apparent Age: 30.

NOTABLE ATTRIBUTES

Intelligence - (••••) ("You're likely consulted by members of Clan Tremere for your wisdom.")

Strength - (•••) ("You might be able to break open a wooden door. (115kg: a large human, an empty coffin, a refrigerator.)")

Dexterity - (•••) ("Your agility is impressive, and your coordination is good as any trained amateur.")

NOTABLE SKILLS

Firearms (•••) (Specialty: Shotguns) ("You've been in the shit ("seen the elephant" if you're older than a century) and come out the other side.")

Melee (•••) ("Your skill with a melee weapon is known throughout the domain.")

Politics (•••) ("You could run political campaigns or political machines, or make waves in your sect as an up-and-comer.")

Leadership (Specialty: Command) (••) ("Your voice makes itself heard in the council, and even your superiors sometimes listen.")

MERITS/ADVANTAGES/LORESHEETS

Active Participant (Sect War Veteran, V5 Corebook) (••)

-No matter the sect, the war pulled in many vampires. Even independents served as mercenaries or suppliers for one or both sides. You have the scars to show for your participation. Your own sect may regard you as a war hero; the other as a war criminal. Take Three dots of Status or Mawla to Reflect your position or that of one of your comrades.

Status (•••) (Camarilla) (From S.W.V.)

-Influential: You hold authority over part of the group, an average elder.

A Lineage of Title (Pure Ventrue Lineage, Camarilla Sourcebook) (••)

- "You come from a line of Princes, Primogen, or possibly Barons. If you ever attempt to acquire a title in a domain, Ventrue -even those you've never met - will automatically support your claim, unless they have sufficient reason to oppose you."

Haven (••) (+ Library, Watchmen) (••)

- "Good size, security or privacy." She has a decent apartment in a complex that she's all but purchased outright.

- Library: Her haven has a dedicated library to the secrets of [REDACTED]

- Watchmen: Private security. "…4 average guards, one Gifted boss."

Resources - Middle Class (••)

-Nice apartment or small house, several cars, high-end equipment.

Common Contact - Nightclub Bouncer (•)

FLAWS:

Folkloric Block (•) (White Animals)

Dark Secret (•)( :) )

Disliked (•) (Anarchs)

Despised (••)(Sabbat)

BACKSTORY N' THE LIKE

Alright - let's just get this out of the way: Eliza is a bad person. She has no illusions otherwise, and neither do I. She's forged herself into what she is intentionally for the sake of her human descendants and Kindred everywhere - whether they thank her for it or not. Admittedly, though, that's likely the delusions of grandeur speaking. Comes free with the old age, I hear.

A well-liked secretary at the main H.Q. for Leighton General Electronics, a moderately successful electronics development corporation housed on America's West Coast in the 1960s, Eliza Doyle managed to convince her -then- husband and Assistant Manager to, gradually and over a set course of time, steal well over $30,000 ($300,000 in todays economy) by having small increments transferred out of the budgets of other projects and laundered via other means. Her husband, however, was a fool. He, very quickly in the grand scheme of things, became overzealous - transferring larger and larger chunks of change out of its original hands and into their pockets; making overly lavish purchases that couldn't be accounted for with the salaries that they were making.

The newest cars, colored television sets for every room of the house, the most expensive clothing, toys, and equipment for the baby on the way…

Despite her vehement protests behind closed doors, there was little to nothing that she actually could do to dissuade him from his course of action as, well, it was the '60s and every financial decision had to go through him first, anyhow. So she did what any self-respecting person would do: sit back and enjoy the riches while they lasted.

And last very long, it did not.

The IRS had the good graces to wait a few weeks after she'd given birth before making their move. Her husband was arrested and refused to testify against her in court, claiming that she was totally innocent of the charges levied against him. The two of them having had ample time to plan this out ahead of time, as well as having a child to take care of, Eliza willingly went along with it - doing a decent enough job at sticking to it to dissuade the government from sniffing too deeply into her personal affairs.

Claiming that they were just happy to have the misplaced funds back where it belonged, L.G.C's Board of Directors denied their right to press charges on the Doyle family.

Her husband was found dead a few months after that, but by then it was too late for anyone of importance to this particular tale to care.

The company's CEO, one Asher Leighton, had managed to piece together what had actually gone down in the months prior - the courts knew that Mr. Doyle was a fool, his coworkers knew that he was a fool, and Doyle himself - likely soon before his death- probably recognized that he was a fool himself - so it was unlikely that he had set up the scheme on his lonesome and, as far as anyone could tell, only the two of them gained anything from the whole charade. Admiring her gumption and the fact that it likely would've taken much longer for them to get noticed if it hadn't been for her husband's misgivings, Leighton managed to do two things:

1.) convince his sire to spare her life,

and

2.) allow him to take her for the Embrace, should she prove worthy of it.

He invited Eliza into his office and made her and offer she couldn't refuse: riches beyond her wildest dreams and a place by his side or for him to renege on the board's original willingness to look the other way and to present this 'newfound' evidence to the courts. She, as you can probably tell, chose the option that kept her out of prison.

Leighton wasn't wholly without perspective or humanity - he understood full well that she had a baby to take care of and was more than willing to let her do so. But motherhood isn't something particularly suited to the Kindred, so his second act of 'kindness' was to blood bind her, introducing her into the World of Darkness and the innerworkings of the Camarilla - slowly at first- as a Ghoul before she'd, by necessity, be forced to cut off all contact with everyone she'd ever known and cared for.

The next 18 years, in all honesty, doesn't particularly bare much worth talking about. Her introduction into the Ivory Tower wasn't exactly seamless, but honestly is it for anyone? She mostly spent her time balancing it between taking care of her child, learning the intricacies of her-soon-to-be-lineage, taking compliments from people commenting on the fact that she seemingly hadn't aged a day since giving birth, and committing the Traditions to heart. Leighton was also more than happy to bankroll any of the training he deemed necessary for her continued survival (firearms, melee) as well as her now-lavish lifestyle. He'd even come by her home on occasion, becoming known by her son as "Uncle Asher" - the slightly off-putting and dismissive, if outwardly kind, uncle who only came by after dinner had long-since been finished.

By 1979, Eliza had finally been Embraced into Clan Ventrue - much to the glee of her Sire and moderate approval of her Grandsire, who she'd only met once before the night of her Embrace. She spent the next 15 years intentionally staying on the wayside of things - allowing her sire to soak up the attention and praise while she lay dormant, gathering information on their friends and enemies alike - and keeping tabs on her son as he went through life without her.

That all changed when the Sabbat entered the picture.

Sabbat infiltrators having managed to kill her grandsire and the Prince, of whom she was on decent terms with, was enough to spur her into action and enter the limelight - forming a coterie whose sole purpose was to sniff out and then snuff out any and all Sabbat in the area - a task she'd gladly take up in Modern Nights if any wandering Sabbat Packs ever ventured into her domain. As it stood then, however, she and her Coterie put up more than a decent fight against them; enough for the Camarilla to brand them all as War Heroes once the domain had been made secure against their advances. She left the Coterie soon after that, though she still keeps tabs on some of them. The few she's lost to joining the Anarch Movement she tries not to think about.

She might have, with her Sire's nudging, diablerized someone somewhere in there. Who, save for her Coterie who were present at the hypothetical event, knows…

Don't get me wrong here, Eliza doesn't like the Camarilla; her time as a Ghoul was more than enough to make her dislike the institution and its archaic ideals heavily - but she does view them as an inherent necessity. She views the Ivory Tower as a whole as a necessary bulwark - keeping the existential threats (be they this so-called Second Inquisition, The Blackhand, or even their own Elders should they return from their Gehenna Crusade en masse…) contained wherever they may so appear for the protection of the Kine and Kindred alike, which means that she will defend it to the death even if she knows full well the vast majority of those who fill its ranks would not do the same for her. The privilege her lineage affords her within the Camarilla is not lost upon her either.

She doesn't see the Anarch Movement, as it currently operates, as being wholly capable of protecting its charges effectively - not without the bulk of resources available to the Cammies - and, thus, treats them as if they are short-sighted and arrogant children for taking the Camarilla's attention away for more pressing problems and doing petty things such as wanting to be treated fairly and equitably… The gall… (/s)

Misc.

I like to imagine that she wore modified Riot Gear (i.e. removing all of the identifiable logos on it) armor when engaging in skirmishes with the Sabbat. She 100% stole this idea from them.

I should provably have clarified: her blood binding ended when she was Embraced. Leighton upheld his end of the bargain in totality, though not wholly out of altruism.

"Scene Queen?" I can hear you asking. She stakes out nightclubs for people, likely college students, to pamper. No such luck forming a herd yet.

What funding of hers doesn't go towards maintaining her Haven and paying her employees (the security detail at her complex) goes directly towards her Great Granddaughters, who are her touchstones. She has not met them in person, but she does keep tabs on them to make sure they're not in any danger or anything.

She is 5'2'' (157 cm)

Wears a tailored beige trench coat on top of a button-up shirt most days

Were I to ever play her, her only goal (minus the bootlicking, obviously) would be to Sire someone. Maybe one of her Kine descendants...