#god i hope this makes sense my brain is melting

[togament]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM😭😭

Please could you do a fluffy thirst of how the boys (togame, sakura, kaji, ume maybe suo) treat the reader after they’ve gone a round 🥲 like their afterglow ❤️

ANON. You and your brain!!!!!! Yoinking it out of your skull to kiss it. Thank you for the kind words! This got me flying off the hinges I worked on this so fast. Locked in, I fear. I hope you don't mind me adding Endo in. He's like a stray cat atp. Don't mind him.

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

suo. sakura. kaji. ume. kiryu. togame. endo.

"ever wondered how it'd be like to just lay there with him, naked both physically and emotionally. So bare and vulnerable, skin reddened and raw, bodies aching. But with both hearts so full, it's almost bursting at the seams? I got it."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Sakura was written with his character development in the most recent chapter in mind! (SOBBING), some language (I'm not exactly the best person to trust with keeping things clean and straight yk), mentions of sex, mentions of cuuuuum, GN!Reader but let me know if I made any mistakes--I'll rectify dat rq (edited Sakura’s!! Tysvm anon!!! Dw you didn’t come across as rude, promise), FLUFF OOEY GOOEY FLUFF, endo???? BEING A PROPER CITIZEN??? LOVER EVEN??????, kinda NSFW? not too spicy but still--MDNI!

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

Your room's dimly lit by candlelight and the moonlight shining through the blinds. Wafts of incense and patchouli caress your senses while your beloved wipes you down with a warm towel. "Good enough for you, my dove?" he pauses as he's looking up at you and you're met with Suo looking at you as though you've hung the moon yourself. Leaning in for a lingering forehead kiss, he mutters into your scalp, "my god you're absolutely ethereal."

✦ your apartment transforms into something damn close to a spa. Suo's big on scents so he has the cool breeze flowing in, incense lit, scented candles gently perfuming the air. It's magical every time. ✦ goes without saying that he loves, loves, LOVES spoiling you. Worshipping you, even. You swear sometimes his lips would never leave your skin with how often he's placing kiss after kiss on your body. ✦ scalp massages! Suo's an absolute beast at it. You always wake up to your hair smelling of some of his essential oils. It's a whole selection and he doesn't like sticking to just one scent. Hell, your body feels so moisturized and plump once you wake up in the morning.

══════════════════ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

"Yer so pretty," Sakura's voice is soft, gentle. A far cry from his harsh and rough tone. God. He's looking at you with such reverence you feel like you're gonna melt. Leaning towards you, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips. There it is. He's blushing again. "My baby’s so pretty."

✦ he's not blushing profusely anymore. Or at least, not as red as he normally is when he's around you. he's just laid there beside you, staring into your eyes with the softest expression on his face. Gratitude. Admiration. ✦ often spends most of the time staring at you like that so lovingly. So much so that you gotta remind him to wipe you down because god the cum's starting to make you feel uncomfortable with how cold it feels. ✦ is actually such a great cuddler. Especially after such a rough session. ESPECIALLY. Doesn't want to let you go the entire time.

══════════════════ 𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

"Let me clean you up," reaching beside you, your lover says with a slight groan as he grabs the tissues off to your side. Taking a few squares, he wipes you down wordlessly, the cautious speed ever evident. It's silent. Soothing. His other arm's never left your side, you notice. Gripping onto your hip ever so securely.

✦ not a huge talker after the fact. But he's quick to clean you up and attend to your needs. It's mostly just short, meaningful praises and reassurances with the both of you, basking in the afterglow. ✦ what he lacks in words, he makes up for in actions. He loves lavishing your body with kisses, caressing where you’re aching the most. ✦ Likes the silence since it's only with you where he doesn't need his headphones to put the world on mute, doesn't need a lollipop to censor his filthy, ruthless mouth. But of course, if it's assurance and praise you need, it's assurance and praise you'll get. His lips are devoid of sweets after all. Time for you to keep them busy.

══════════════════ 𝐔𝐌𝐄.

"Do you need anything else from me, baby? A massage? Some cuddles?" your lover asks you while he's wiping your inner thighs down clean from his cum that's been dribbling down them, always eager to cater to your needs at all times. Pressing a gentle kiss to the skin, he adds gently, "Whatever you need."

✦ way sweeter than he usually is with you. Which is saying a lot because your man's the absolute sweetest around you all the damn time! Presses kisses everywhere, whispers the most heart melting praise while he's hard at work soothing your body.... BIG SIGH. ✦ likes making you laugh even when your body's aching from him practically going all in on you. Says it's the best way to distract you from the pain. Still, he's massaging you if you'd like him to. Happy to oblige. ✦ ugh the ASSURANCE he gives you every time. The PRAISE?????? ALL GENUINE. ALL FROM THE HEART. It happens every time you're both still awake after the romp. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

══════════════════ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin as he's trailing kisses down your spine, corners of his lips curled up into a gentle smile. You can feel it with each kiss he presses onto your skin. His skillful thumbs pressing soothing circles in your aching muscles, rubbing the soreness away. "How'd I get so lucky?"

✦ PRAISE IS THE ABSOLUTE NAME OF THE GAME.

✦ he's so good at massaging you omg the thought of paying him for it has crossed your mind a couple of times. You feel so guilty for being massaged and pampered this good FOR FREE. ALL THE TIME. ✦ likes talking you through everything, whispering assurances and checking in with you during the act and after. Never fails to make you feel like you're cherished. With Kiryu, you truly are. And more.

══════════════════ 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

"Need a massage?" he says as he's already flexing his hands, reaching over for the massage oil. Eyes so lovestruck as he gazes into your own, he coos at you gently, "Little reward yeah?" Pressing a gentle kiss right behind your ear, he whispers deeply, his voice ends with a slight grumble, "Did so good f'me, doll."

✦ Of course, always attentive to you. Slow with wiping you down but god is it soothing with how he's doing it so gently. Purring praises into it every time. If you're feeling peckish, no matter how tired he is, he's making something for you in the kitchen. ✦ can and would eat you out if you wanted him to help ride out your high again. Gentle with it again too since he knows how sensitive you are. Pretty easy to wrap into another round though. ✦ After all that, you both are out like lights as soon as your heads hit the pillow. He's got you close to him though, arms encasing you, breaths intertwined. Comfortable.

══════════════════ 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

"Fuck... ME," he says with a gentle chuckle, voice akin to a purr you can swear it rumbles, tone so honeyed and syrupy. Reaching over to your side of the bed, your lover cups a tattooed hand over your cheek, sliding his thumb over the apex of it ever so slowly. "You're gorgeous."

✦ Always, always at your beck and call. Need something? He's on it. Back aches from the diabolical backshots? He's already prepping your body with massaging oil. Need him to wipe the cum away? Of course he's on that shit ASAP (with his tongue). Would do whatever it is that you want him to do within a heartbeat. ✦ Often tries to get another round out of you. He genuinely, genuinely CANNOT get enough of you. Only if you're cool with him trying though. He's not gonna force things on you if you don't want it. ✦ lavishes you with so much love sometimes it's suffocating. It only ramps up in intensity after fucking. If you like them obsessively clingy, he's your man.

a/n: HOOOOOOO anon I hope this was alright!!!! These were all such fun to do oml. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THROUGH ALL THIS AHSDKHAKJSD more requests like these please!!!! aaaaa

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

hi can you do a bruce wayne fic where readers back is pressed to his chest and he’s fucking her so hard and rough while also rubbing and occasionally slapping her clit and reader is just so far gone in pleasure? thank you so so much!! 💗💗

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

NSFW

I don't have a title for this, it's just... pure filth.

Basically just Bruce fucking out his frustration <3

Sorry for the long wait! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 😚

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your brain was mush and all of your nerve endings were on fire as a breathtaking euphoria flooded your veins, fogging all your senses.

Bruce had been on edge lately, having to deal with not only the idiots at Wayne Enterprises but also Scarecrow running rampant in Gotham at the most inconvenient times, it seemed.

He had come home with a scowl on his face, stomping into the Manor and snatching you away from your cozy spot on the couch, dragging you to the bedroom.

The room was hot, filled with the smell of sex, and you could swear you could see the windows fogging up from the corner of your eye.

Bruce was underneath you, panting and sweating, one arm firmly pressed between your exposed tits right up against your sternum, with the hand wrapped around your throat while is cock was nestled deep inside of you, pouding you into tomorrow, it felt like.

Every thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, and his other hand between your thighs rubbing your puffy clit made you see stars.

You cried out for him, grasping onto whatever part you could reach to ground yourself. Bruce was fucking all of his frustration and tension into you, grunting on your ear, using the hand around your neck as leverage to pull you back down on his dick.

You couldn't keep track of how many orgasms he'd pulled out of you already, but you knew this wasn't the last one.

Tears of ecstasy pricked in the corners of your eyes and your head fell back against his strong shoulder, your bones melting into jelly.

"B-..Bruce, I can't-" You heaved, trying to get some oxygen in your lungs.

"Just one more for me, yeah, honey? I need this... I'll treat you so good after... please.." he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you clenched around him.

You were reduced to moans and mewls, trying to keep yourself from slipping away.

Your skin felt clammy and shiver ran through you when the tip of his cock ever so slightly nudged your cervix.

"God, yes.." Bruce moaned through clenched teeth.

His hand left your clit, a whine falling from your lips at the loss of stimulation.

His hand came down between your thighs, landing a slap on your bundle of nerves.

You squealed, your eyes widneding at the new sensation. It was a delicious mix of pleasure and twinge of pain that had your legs shaking.

"Oh shit... please do that again!" You begged through heavy breaths.

Bruce chuckled breathlessly, continuing to give your clit small slaps, grunting when your cunt constricted around him. Your nth orgasm was bubbling up in your belly, euphoria gnawing on your bones.

"I'm gonna-... fuck!" You mewled, your whole body convulsing as the coil in your stomach snapped, and you came around him.

A moan got caught in his throat, and with a few hard thrusts, Bruce spilled inside of you, filling your sore pussy with his cum.

He slacked against the bed, taking you with him.

Rolling you over so you were comfortably resting on your side, he wrapped his arms around you and littered sweet kisses all over your shoulder and neck.

"I'm sorry, baby... I needed to get it out. I love you." He murmured into your skin, making you let out a sleepy giggle.

"I'd love a bath..." you mumbled, your face pressed halfway into a pillow.

"Whatever you want, my love."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I know it's short, I'm sorry 😭

More of my works -> 💫

《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

Lmk if you want to be added/removed 😚🩷

DC taglist is currently Bale!Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and Dick Grayson.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[apclyptc]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN PT.2—matt ver.

foreword: please read the first part linked here for this to make any sense! i mean technically u could read it as a stand alone but it’s best read with part one 😇

warnings: nice little makeout sesh, fingering, love bites, praise, lots of praise, erm insert more warnings here

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“i pick… matt.” you spoke.

matt’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. you suddenly felt like a fool, he was one of your best friends, you’d known him forever.

but at the same time, this had been a long time coming. it was going to happen sooner or later, right?

nate’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“i was not expecting that! i think this game has been my best idea ever so far.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, “don’t get so ahead of yourself, this game is still stupid. but i will admit that it has been funny.” you turned to matt again, his face unreadable and it made you nervous.

“so uh, which room are we even going in?” matt’s eyes averted from yours. oh god, is he going to let you down gently? was his hand on your thigh just a friendly pat and you’d read into it too much because you wanted him to touch you just once?

you’d simply die if that was the case. was it too late to choose waylon?

nate pointed towards upstairs. oh god.

“pick any room. well maybe not mine, i still have to sleep in it tonight.” nate winked, causing a few of the others to laugh.

“cmon, we’ll only be up there for ten minutes. don’t be ridiculous.” matt shrugged off his friend’s suggestive comment and stood from his chair, signalling you to stand too.

‘we’ll only be up there for ten minutes’. you wondered what you’d get up to if you had longer.

you followed matt up the stairs into what looked like a spare room, and he shut the door.

“nate has really outdone himself this time, don’t you think?” matt asked, as if he was putting himself off of an inevitable and awkward conversation.

“yeah… it almost makes me scared to think he’ll try to one-up this next time.” you responded. now that you were up here alone, you were realising the errors of your ways and you desperately wished that ten minutes would be over as quick as it started.

“listen, y/n. we’ve been friends for a long time now, so i understand if you want to just sit here and wait out the ten minutes.” he explained.

the way he worded it made it seem like he didn’t want to just sit here, but he was okay with it if you were.

surely not…

“we could do that,” you began, mentally noting that his face dropped ever so slightly, “or maybe we could… never mind.” you realised half way through your reply that you couldn’t bear to hear yourself say the words to him.

but matt wasn’t going to let that happen, not now, knowing that maybe what he was feeling was reciprocated.

“we could what?” he stepped closer to you, the room feeling smaller than it was when you first walked in.

“it doesn’t matter, it was stupid.” your breath hitched in your throat, he was getting closer and closer to you until there was barely any space left between you.

“tell me. i just want to hear you say it, once.” matt’s hand came up to rest on the side of your neck, the hand that was adding pressure to your thigh not long ago.

“i mean, it’s just a game, right? so we could… just…” you trailed off as his lips came into contact with yours. it was a soft, slow kiss, that melted your brain into mush.

“this isn’t just a game to me.” he spoke before reconnecting his lips to yours. soft and slow was no longer how your kiss could be described. no, this time it was desperate, charged, with clanging teeth and roaming hands.

you couldn’t believe one silly card game could put you in such a position.

matt walked you to the edge of the bed, sitting both of you down and placing his hand back on your thigh. you pressed them together, trying to distract yourself from the arousal that was no doubt pooling underneath your skirt.

pulling away from you, he mumbled, “i was hoping you felt the same way.”

the needy expression on your face was more than enough of an indicator, but if there was any doubt in his mind, it was instantly quelled when you took his hand and let him touch the dampness of your underwear. he sighed with want, dragging his fingers along the wet spot.

“please, we don’t have long.” you pleaded, and who was he to deny you?

tugging the waistband of your panties down your legs, he admired the glistening of your pussy, begging to be touched.

“so pretty.” a single finger swiped at your core, and you let out a short breath.

matt slowly increased his pace, stroking up and down at your leaking cunt, as if mesmerised by it.

truth be told, he couldn’t believe such a thing was happening. he’d had only the smallest of feelings for you when you were younger, but they had quickly blossomed into something much more, or rather they had torpedoed into a carnal desire for you once you had traded hoodies for tube tops.

he couldn’t control his urges for you any more than you could.

“matt,” you pleaded again, aching for more, “please.”

matt could cum solely from the sounds escaping your throat alone, but he had decided to use his ten minutes to make you feel good rather than himself.

using his fingers already coated in your slick, he pushed them inside you. the moan you let out had surprised the both of you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, letting your other stabilise yourself on his shoulder.

“keep quiet, you don’t want everyone downstairs to hear, do you?” he spoke softly, and you weren’t sure if he actually wanted an answer to his question, though you weren’t in any position to answer. you were too focused on muffling your moans with your hand.

just like he had done downstairs, matt attached his lips to your neck, leaving another bite next to the other, this one darker than the first.

he pulled his head back to admire his work.

“i’d love to cover you in these,” he continued thrusting his fingers into you, “they suit you.”

you felt a twang in your stomach.

“you, fuck, you should leave them in places where no one can see but you.” you panted, struggling to speak without whining expletives.

“yeah? you want that?” matt glanced down at where his hand connected with your pussy, and used his thumb to touch your clit.

“ohhh fuck, yes i want that, keep doing that.” you felt yourself already slipping over the edge, getting closer and closer to sweet release.

“knock knock!” nate’s voice taunted from outside the room as he thudded on the door, “times up!”

you instantly felt embarrassed. did he hear all of that?

“i guess we weren’t quick enough.” matt pulled his fingers out of you.

“yeah i guess no-” your words were cut short by matt sticking the fingers that were just inside of you, into your mouth.

“clean my fingers for me, would you? i got them all messy.” he smirked at the implications of his words.

you did as you were told and licked your own arousal off his hand, feeling your cunt clench.

“there’s a good girl.”

straightening yourself out, you opened the door to a beaming nate.

“so? did you keep my sheets clean?” he asked.

“shut up, dude. we didn’t even do anything.” matt denied, walking past nate and back downstairs with you to the others.

nate followed behind, “then how come y/n has another hickey?”

like a deer in headlights, you stopped in your tracks.

“no comment.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n oh my god this is so so so ass. this is what i get for getting drunk instead of updating and having to rush writing this bc everyone’s waiting.

regardless, i hope it was worth the wait! now all i have to do is write the whole chris chapter and pray it doesn’t come out as terribly as this

bye….

© APCYLPTC 2023. do not repost, translate, or duplicate any of my works here or any other websites.

[i-luvsang]

do i get to know your name? — kim chaewon

pairing : idol!chaewon x fan!gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : fluff, idol!au ➖⟢ cw : nothing, i think!➖⟢ wc : 1K

chaewon falls a little bit in love with a lot of her fans. they’re all so pretty, so sweet as they grin and cheer her on. but god, the second she makes eye contact with you, with your eyes turned up and a smile so genuine and joyful that it lights your face up in a way she’s never seen before, it’s over for her. she sends you a wave and a wink, more than satisfied by your wild reaction as you scream in joy.

all night long, she pays special attention to you, always drifting back to you to point at you, pick up your phone and wave to it, even blow you kisses and send you hearts with her pretty hands. all while staring right at you, she talks into her mic about "how pretty our fearnots are." 

you think you must be going crazy. there's no way she'd pay all that close attention to you, right? you wonder if she always does this for other fans, but you can't help but deliver a happy reaction each time she does something that seems like it's just for you. she winks, and you wink back, making her grin even wider than before. she loves that she can make you shy in an instant, but that you’re willing to flirt back too.

she notices how kindly you act towards the other fans around you, and it hits her that she just needs to know you. chaewon can’t quite place it, but there’s something about you that has her thinking about you as she performs a song or the moment she walks in another direction to greet other fans.

after the concert, by some miracle, she manages to convince the staff to find you, and they actually do. you’re eternally confused when they invite you backstage, thinking it must be a joke or wondering if you did something horribly wrong to get in some sort of massive trouble.

they stick you in a random room and ask you to wait just a few minutes, brushing off your questions due to how busy they are. nervously, you pick at the hem of your shirt, the adrenaline from the concert still coursing through your veins, making it difficult for your brain to differentiate between the nervousness due to your unknown situation and the excitement of the rest of the night. to distract yourself, you pull out your phone, pulling up the video of chaewon grabbing it and posing for your camera. you giggle helplessly when she blows a kiss to the camera, then hands it back to you with a flirty smile that could have you melting right then and there.

you barely catch the sound of the door opening over the sounds of the screams coming from your phone. you quickly shut it off and set it down, hoping no one catches you in such a state. the device nearly tumbles straight to the floor when you look up to who opened the door.

you fumble for words, but she doesn’t let you flounder for too long before speaking.

“hi,” she grins, “sorry to keep you waiting, i just had to make sure i caught you before you left.”

her words don’t help you make sense of things at all, because it’s chaewon herself standing right in front of you.

“well, i mean, i-it’s okay! no worries, i’m so you’re so busy and exhausted right now and– yeah. um. did you, uh– need something from me?” mentally, you’re slapping your palm to your forehead. could i sound any stupider, you berate yourself in your head, still infinitely confused.

she can’t help but laugh softly, sweet and good-natured, at your flustered stake given how endearing she finds it. she always thinks it’s cute when her fans get nervous around her, but again, god, you’re just something different. with you, she just feels all the adoration tenfold when she looks at you, and she realizes that maybe love at first sight is real.

the smile she gives you is so sweet you really think you’re in true danger of melting this time. “well, you really caught my eye, i guess.” suddenly she’s feeling a little shy, too, realizing she’s never done anything like this before. but she pushes through it, easily back to her flirty and cute self. “and i couldn’t just let you disappear on me. you’re too cute for that.”

your eyes widen. you feel as though you must be hallucinating. “i– really?” is all you manage to say.

“really,” she confirms. “i know this is unconventional, and you don’t have to say yes to anything if you just want to stay my fan, but i’d really like to get to know you. if you want, let’s start with your name.” she grins, eager to hear your name so she can let it fall off her own lips.

“i’m– i mean, i would love that, i just– are you sure? i mean– that’s great, i’m just– just a bit– i don’t know, confused, i guess? this just … kind of doesn’t feel real,” you let out a disbelieving laugh, mostly at this whole situation and partially at how little sense you probably just made. and despite your last few words about this feeling fake, an uncontrollable grin tugs at your lips.

“i’m definitely sure,” she smiles right back at you. “and like i said, i know this is out of the norm, i get it not feeling quite real, even i’m a little confused right now, but truly, i just couldn’t get you out of my head since the moment we met eyes and i know that sounds super strange, but i’d really like to know more about you.

you let out another flustered laugh, but her words and the sincerity of her tone finally begin to sink in. “i’d really like that, too.”

she looks at you expectantly, like you’ve forgotten something. you raise your eyebrows questioningly, wondering what she’s looking for.

“so, do i get to know your name?”

[space-invading-pigeon]

Steve came home from work one day pissed as hell. His coworker had made three of his little ones cry, the service dog that was supposed to visit the long-term patients was cancelled last minute, Dustin texted him to cancel their weekly phone call because he and Suzie were fighting, Hopper had to postpone his monthly check-in because El caught a stomach bug at school, and Mrs. Ryans stopped him in the lobby to tell him that she's praying his "no good devil worshipping roommate" received the damnation he supposedly deserves.

So Steve burst into his home, fuming, face flushed red in his anger, and startled poor Eddie out of his armchair. "I called Mrs. Ryans a stupid old hag and I'm not apologizing!" He announced, practically throwing his shoes into their proper place. "She's stupid and I hope she breaks her other hip."

Eddie started his usual task of making brownies (he's a firm believer that chocolate can make anything better, and he knows that Steve's got an almost pavlovian response to the smell of brownies now) while Steve changes out of his scrubs and into something more comfortable. He'd completely bypassed his own closet, instead stealing one of Eddie's prized Iron Maiden tees to go with his threadbare pajama bottoms. Eddie opened his mouth to ask what had happened that day to make Steve so upset, but Steve didn't let him.

"Seriously, why does she hate you so much? You're like the sweetest person ever. So I told her to stop talking shit about you, and she was like, 'why should I,' so I told her that my baby sister would slap the wig off her bald little head if she kept being shitty to my boyfriend, and I might have actually given her a heart attack. Should we go check on her?" Eddie froze at Steve's admission; first of all, a baby sister?? But, more pressing, boyfriend. "Oh, my god, I might have killed our elderly neighbor. El wouldn't actually slap her! Wait, yes she would. She's still learning social norms and I don't think Hop told her that hitting old people is frowned on. I don't- does Hop know not to hit old people? Eddie, my dad might abuse the elderly."

"Stevie, honey, slow down," he finally settled on. Eddie bypassed their little dining table to sit Steve on the couch. "One thing at a time. Mrs. Ryans is not dead, we'd have heard all the munchkins singing by now."

"I'm not going to prison for shocking our neighbor to death, Eddie, I'd rather be melted into a giant flesh monster," Steve piped up. Eddie didn't have time to unpack whatever that meant, so he ignored it.

"You're talking about your sister like she's not used to humans."

"She's not, really. She was ex- she was, um, bad home life. Before we met. She's Hopper's daughter now, but before, her dad fucked her up. Like, doomsday, raise the children in isolation, fucked up." Steve was marginally calmer, but his anger gave way to nerves as everything he'd said caught up with him. "I called you my boyfriend."

"Good to know you've got beauty and brains, sweetheart," Eddie cooed at him, smacking an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. "Not every day I have such a cute guy screaming at old ladies for me."

"J-just the one old lady. You're not mad I called you my boyfriend?" Eddie paused there, giving Steve the flattest stare he could manage.

"Steve. I've been flirting with you for two years. Bruce has been trying to get me to propose to you for one of those two years."

"Bruce just had a baby, he should worry about-"

"Bruce tried to explain to you that we're dating and you called him a funny guy, honey. Congrats, you're the last to know."

"We're dating?" Steve shrieked, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Steve's face was so incredulous, like he really had no idea, and as sad as it was to see that, it was just too funny to Eddie that they'd been dating in almost every sense for more than a year before Steve seemed to be aware of it. "Are you telling me I could have kissed you this whole time?"

"Well, yeah, obviously. Stevie, you really didn't know? I thought it was obvious how much I love you, sweetheart."

[tojisun]

hey hey hey. don't mind me, i'm just a friendly little nit who's come to bring you my brainrot of the day.

i don't know how often you write him, but - just hear me out - gaz with a mommy kink. i feel like he's the type to have lost a lot of his non-military contact with women, including maybe his own family, so he's really just desperate for feminine approval. but the poor baby is too afraid to tell anyone about it because he doesn't want his partner to think he's weird or something like that. :(

so when he comes home from an op, off his rocker from desperation, he accidentally lets it slip while he's practically fucking them like a dog in heat. what he doesn't expect is that they don't mind, and it just melts his brain to nothing.

friendly neighborhood nit, over and out.

I TRIPPED AND FELL AND PASSED OUT READING THIS OHHHH MY GOD!! my friendly neighbourhood nit i hope u know im kissing u on the mouth rn. THANK U FOR THIS BECAUSE- BECAUSE-

i was- i was trying to find this lil slip of a thing i wrote of gaz with a sugar 'mommy' and how it just makes sense... not necessarily an older partner but a mature partner yk? a partner who pampers him and spoils him; who treats him like the king he is, and he is left trembling, aching, his desire bloating-

gnawing on a rock rn !!!

god.

thinking about the way gaz is fucking you so desperately, humping his cock along your walls, muffling his moans on the crook of your neck because his little secret—the shame that he's always carried—is dripping from the column of his teeth, poisonous as it slithers on the tip of his tongue, and kyle wants to–

he wants to–

"fuck, kyle," you whimper, your moan drawing his name out in that delicious way that makes him buckle. he knows tears must be pooling into the corners of your eyes, surely staining the silk pillow sheets, and the image that forms in his mind makes him groan, deep rumbles of his pleasure reverberating from where his chest is pressed on your back.

kyle has you on your knees, gentle and tender, but the slide of his cock in your cunt had him snapping—his restraints are thinning, the fog in his mind gaining strength.

it feels like torture. like pinched pleasure.

it feels like kyle is being edged even when he knows he isn't. because his cock is rutting along the warm press of your walls, being milked for all his worth, and yet–

it's not enough.

the first sob startles him more than it startles you, but kyle is too far gone, mouth agape, letting drool stain the soft caress of your shoulder. he feels your walls clamp down harder on him, your slick gushing along the twitching length of his cock, drenching his crotch, and kyle feels the need throbbing from his gums—

"god, mommy."

the fear that shoots through him is instant, snuffing the peaking elation of his pleasure. apologies gather on the base of his throat, choking him, cutting his air supply short.

messed up, he thinks to himself, already slowing down, pulling away. i fuckin' messed up–

"where's my baby goin', huh?" you croon, desire heavy on your tone.

you turn your head lightly, not enough to meet his eyes but enough that your voice is no longer muffled. "mommy didn't say you could stop, sweet boy."

kyle's body locks, his arms buckling, leaving him to stumble, all of his weight bearing down on you. his cock hits somewhere deeper at the sudden action, snug along the grip of your wet cunt. then, kyle cums, ecstasy razing through him as he mewls, his eyes shut close at the intensity of his pleasure.

he doesn't notice that he's humping your pussy as he shoots his warm cum into your cervix, stuffing you whole. like the good boy that he is.

"mommy, so fuckin' good f'r me. so good f'r me," kyle babbles, words slurring and incomprehensible.

white noise fills his senses, his eyes met with an explosion of blinding static. he is deaf to your squealed moans, not realizing the litanies of your own praises dribbling from your spit-slicked lips until the explosion of his pleasure peter into a quiet simmer.

shame curls in his heart, only for it to be snuffed out because you say, "my perfect boy. s'good f'r me. s'beautiful f'r me."

prickling feeling envelops the backs of his eyes, his body trembling at your continuous reassurances.

you coo, "always makin' me feel good. always pamperin' me. y'r the loveliest boy, kyle. my lovely boy."

kyle hides his face on the back of your shoulders, stifling his sob.

"thank you," he says, voice a quiet tremble.

"shh," you say, breath hitching at his aborted movements, feeling his cock still hitting your sensitive parts. "won't you make mommy cum now, lovie?"

"f'course," kyle replies, heart still wavering because–

how was it all so easy when it comes with you?

he knows you and him will have to talk about this later—semantics need to be smoothed out, establish boundaries. make up rules for kyle to follow.

he shivers, cock twitching with new interest.

"'of course' what, darlin'?"

kyle breathes in sharply at what you're asking. then, "f'course, mommy."

you hum, a happy titter. "good boy."

[yourlocaltreesimp]

The First to be Forsaken

been in the works for a while!! This was actually a request that got deleted.

So to the anon who requested a reader who was cursed by Hylia like Eda in the owl house, this is for you!

tw: chronic illness, death

۵♡۵

The ache in your hands never lessened and the maring cracks in your skin never healed. It made for a rather ugly sight, all considered. The creeping vine-like scars showing in rather gorey details the tainted flesh.

No medical salve nor healing spell could rid you of the malice that poisoned your blood. And according to the words of the fairies themselves, it’s latched to your very soul. It festers, feeding off of your energy until you’ll be left as a husk. A puppet with no one to pull its strings.

It’s not pleasant knowing you’re going to die, but it’s less so knowing that no matter how often you pray to the goddess it will not be fixed. The divine never needed to give reason for why they shunned that which gives them power. Still, the chain did what they could, and for that you had many thanks.

Wild always had hearty food to replace the energy stolen from you, Legend let you wear whatever charmed jewellery you wanted, Time would never let you take night shifts, Warriors would carry you on the days you were too fragile to walk, Twilight doubled as a bed and his pelt as a blanket, Four made braces for your brittle joints, Hyrule was always testing different mixes in hopes that one might lessen your pain, Sky would hold your hand and talk to you on the days you could walk to make sure that you had something to distract from the crying of your nerves, even Wind spared some of his grandmother’s soup in hopes that of it didn’t rid of pain, it might ease your distress. Your Heroes were funny like that, sacrificing whatever they had for anyone that needed it, no matter how precious their time or belongings are. Certainly not a coincidence they act this way. They’ve seen what’s become of you under the neglect of the gods. And you’ve seen the familiar ache in their eyes, the recognition of themselves within you.

The newest hero, First —well perhaps then he’s the oldest— was in many ways similar. He too would offer you stories and ballads from his time, forgotten by the time the next era rolled in. His words had a majesty that had the whole camp turn an ear to follow whatever tale he recalled. And by the time it came for you to lay your head and rest, your woes would be far off from the front of your mind.

He’d sweep you off your feet both in the figurative matter and the literal. With only the gentlest graze of your skin and only the sweetest words that could be uttered did he regard you. He did not hold you to a sense of pity, as was common among many who knew of you, but a genuine care. A care for you beyond measure that he’d shown on many occasions that he would stop at nothing to ensure that if you could not be comfortable, you could be content.

And currently you were, despite it being a bad day.

The champion watched over the cooking pot carefully and the traveller flicked through one of his journals, looking for a combination of herbs that might be of help to you. The two passed questions back and forth in an effort to find an overlap of medicinals they haven’t already tried.

You had Twi’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth and First’s scarf to try and dull your cold flashes. You leaned back against the First hero as his arms warped around you and his face buried into your shoulder. You shiver as the next cold wave hits, wincing. The moment sits in silence before his arms around your abdomen gently pull you closer.

“I am sorry for what she did to you, My beloved.” His voice was deep and poetic as usual, the unwavering strength he displayed to the world melted to softness at your touch. Through the staticky emptiness that settled in your brain, the question stood, alone and without any real context nor answer.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow and you look over at where he rests his head on your shoulder. He draws a heavy breath, mumbling something into your layers of clothing.

“Hylia- all of this because of her vanity. I am sorry you fell victim.” There is a pain in his voice, a guilt he’s held for long. Shackles upon his wrists that he’s not willing to let himself be freed from. You suppose it is him where their united care for the world came from, no matter how unrequited. He’d bleed himself dry for the world if it meant that it’d be better.

“I don’t mind being here with you all” You hear the distant rowdy laughter of Wind and Twi, and you find it in yourself to bask in this one moment, “It’s certainly worth it. To me, at least.” He grumbles happily, kissing the nearest place of unscathed skin he can find, right below your jaw.

“I am glad, Dearest. But that-“ His voice wavers as another chill wracks your body. You can only find a wince as you try to block away the ever advancing chill.

“That is not what I meant. I- It’s because of her that you cannot find rest. It is she who whittled down your bones and set alight your nerves” You find nothing to say as you stare at him, urging for more. “She thought it was wrong for me to love you, to long for your care and yearn to hold your heart. So, she tainted y-“ You wish to hear his words. A muse longing to read the poets works, and yet-

The words grow fuzzy as the gloom within you swells, gnawing painfully at your bones. It seems that you had forgotten exactly how brittle you were. It was always hubris that killed heroes, wasn’t it? But that didn’t make sense. You were no hero. How could it be hubris if you never meant to taunt the gods. How could that be- you weren’t dying, are you?

They said you’d be ok.

You’ll be ok right?

Everything will be ok?

The pressure in your head doesn’t stop growing and your stomach hurls.

The sun is so bright.

It hurts.

She’s taking you again, isn’t she?

[keyotos]

book lover

summary ⎯ you rant about your book to alhaitham. he takes the time to admire you during your tangents.

tags ⎯ fluff. idk its just really cute. soft alhaitham idk what to tell you. you and alhaitham are two little book nerds that read physical books together and rant abt them. u2 are giving old happily married couple tbh.

tana's words ⎯ idk mane im in love. but BLADE trailer came out today so idk..... feeling a little bit i'm abt to commit an infidelity

you looked very conflicted as your eyes scanned the words of the book you were currently reading. to any other person, you looked rather focused. your face was pensive and your eyes were fixated on the novel you were reading.

but to alhaitham (who thinks and hopes he's the one that knows you the most), he realizes you're disconcerted by the novel you're reading. it's the way you're slightly pouting (almost frowning) your lips as you continue reading, like you're dissatisfied. your eyes aren't focused, but instead they were crinkled with confusion. what you're actually focused on is how much more ludicrous this book could get.

alhaitham picks his book back up again and continues his book, "murder on the orient express," by margaret atwood. something you recommended to him. alhaitham started it right after he finished the book he was reading previously, forgetting about the other books on his shelf.

alhaitham was nearly halfway into the novel when he turned his head to check on you again. this time, there was no doubt you looked pained. your eyes were narrowed with incredulity as you read the rest of the passage. you were biting your lip and your grip on the book was tight. you wanted to say something, alhaitham figured out.

so alhaitham puts down his book on the nightstand and stretches. he wraps his hands around your waist and moves closer to you, his head now resting on your shoulder. he reads a few passages here and there. and the way you slow down as you read does not elude him: he knows you're just waiting for him to finish his passage.

you two stay like this for a while. alhaitham's hands are wrapped around your body as his head lays comfortably on your shoulder. he presses a few kisses to your neck here and there, never failing to make you heat up. he's pulled you closer into him by now; you're on the verge of sitting on his lap in the bed. but even during this relaxing moment, you couldn't help but feel stress. it's probably because of this god-awful book you're reading.

you let out a loud sigh, slamming your book shut and not even bothering to bookmark it (you're a dog-earer; alhaitham thinks you're despicable for it). you lay it down on your nightstand before you take the time to melt into alhaitham's touch. once you've put your book down, you take a deep breath, and alhaitham swears he feels life return back into you.

alhaitham presses a quick kiss to your jaw, "are you okay?"

you faintly smile at him, "fine." and alhaitham knows what will come next. alhaitham studies you; he tries to dissect your every word and expression; and most of all, he always wants to find out more about you, despite having being with you for a long time already.

your smile disperses, now followed by a scowl, "i lied. i'm not fine," you rubbed your eyes with your hands as alhaitham listened to you, "can your brain hurt after reading something so terrible? my brain feels like it aged fifty years and i'm not even finished with this god-awful book. nothing in here makes sense, the plot is rudimentary at most, and the characters are making me want to rip my hair out," you ranted, your hands going to massage your temples because of how angry you were getting.

"and it's not just that too," you continued. alhaitham's eyes were on you; listening to every word, watching your eyes, and your lips. he wanted to kiss you into peace, but he also loved hearing your tirades. the way your voice became so passionate and wild made him feel things that he thought he wouldn't have felt before.

"the plot barely makes any sense. like, you're telling me grown people act like this? these people are two decades older than us, haitham," he feels himself melt at the sound of his name, nodding along to your tangent so you know he's listening, "but they act like teenagers! like... don't you have jobs? lives?" you pick up the covers that enshroud your body and proceed to let out the loudest groan into them.

you pulled down the covers, letting out a deep sigh. "sorry, i had to get that out," you turned to look at alhaitham, only to see him staring right back at you.

"i guess you're not recommending that one," alhaitham joked, removing his hands from your waist and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing you against him. he presses a kiss to your temple as he feels you breath slowly.

"definitely not," you shook your head, now leaning onto alhaitham's shoulder, "the thing was, my friend recommended that to me. so, i don't know if they hate me or not, because there's no way they'd genuinely think this book was good."

alhaitham hummed, "maybe they were trying to gauge your reaction," alhaitham's hand slipped under your shirt and started tracing shapes on your bare collarbone, "like you did to me that one time," alhaitham adds, tone lifting with mock-exasperation.

you laugh, and alhaitham thinks the sound is absolutely heavenly. sometimes, especially during long nights in the akademiya, he dreams of your laughter and your smile. the sound is so melodic that any other laugh became incomparable and unrivaled by yours.

"okay, that was pretty funny though," you poked his cheek, grinning, "i almost spit out my drink when you got to that one sex scene. i thought you'd never take any recommendations from me ever again," you joyfully reminisced, letting yourself sink into alhaitham's warmth.

"'how fast you go. you arrive at a conclusion much sooner than i would permit myself to do,'” alhaitham quotes. his hands travel farther down your shirt as he allows himself to kiss your neck.

you ignore his actions, turning to him suddenly, "you're reading murder on orient express?" your eyes widen.

alhaitham's expression remains neutral, still kissing your body, "of course. i read everything you recommend me." he didn't expect you to be so shocked. he regards your opinion with high value.

your eyes still remain wide, not moving away from his face as alhaitham mindlessly rubs his hands up and down your torso, "even the bad ones?"

alhaitham chuckles, "even the bad ones. but, if it makes you feel better, you haven't recommended me any terrible books yet. at least, not as terrible as the one you're reading currently."

you sigh, looking at the disgraced book on the nightstand, "yeah... i don't think books can get worse than that one," you turn back to run your hand through alhaitham's hair, sorting out a few strands here and there. alhaitham quietly hums as you do so, sounding pleasantly satisfied.

"why are you reading murder on the orient express so soon? thought you had that other book to read about," you quietly asked.

"because i love you. and i want to experience what you experienced," alhaitham says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. i love you. i want to experience things with you. it makes your heart flutter infinitely through the stars. you've read countless romance novels through your years, yet no author would be able to word love as well as alhaitham did.

you smile wide, and alhaitham thinks if he was a dying man, seeing your smile would allow him to survive for decades. too flustered to say anything, you tuck yourself into the nape of his neck, hiding from his prying eyes.

you know alhaitham. you are aware that he knows you just as well as you know him. you know that, with one glance, alhaitham is probably able to determine every single thought you're thinking. with one word from your mouth, alhaitham understands you immediately, no need to elaborate. it's long lasting, the mutual understanding the both of you have.

yeah, alhaitham can read you like a book. he takes great satisfaction in doing so, as well.

you grab his chin and tilt his head down to meet yours, giving him a chaste kiss on his lips. you grin once again (a sight alhaitham will never get sick of) and turn off the lamp next to your bed. you whisper, "good night," in his ear and cover yourself with the sheets as you drift off into sleep, content with this night despite the horrible book.

alhaitham softly smiles, even chuckles a little bit about how fast you went to bed. he traces your jawline with his thumb before turning off his light and pulling you closer into him.

alhaitham usually does not reread books. but, if you were a book, he'd think he would reread you over and over again, because every time he finds something new to love about you, there is always more. you reel him in more than any hook. you interest him more than any other topic. you grab his attention more than any other story.

maybe he's over exaggerating. but that's no big deal for now. for now, alhaitham will just enjoy you and your presence. and he will reread you the next time he has a chance.

umm idk if that ending made sense but it's like 4am rn and idrc. alhaitham is prob ooc in this but whateva bc i like my men to be nice bc I CAN CHANGE THEM!! anyway srry if this don't make sense its 4am rn

[infinitystoner]

Underneath the Tree

AO3 | Masterlist

✨part of @sarahscribbles’ Christmas Collection; header by @inklore✨

Summary: You’re expecting to spend the holidays without your other half. So when Loki reappears the night before Christmas, you indulge in a little merriment to make up for lost time.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags/Content: Holiday Surprises Befitting the God of Mischief, Romantic Reunions, Fluff, Smut (Fingering, Cunnilingus, Anal Sex), Soft Dom! Loki, Established Relationship

Rating: Explicit; 18+

Author’s note: Here be the Yuletide filth! I realize butt stuff isn’t for everyone, but it’s actually really soft and sweet (and not overly explicit). If you like my writing, I hope you give it a chance. xx

The hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention as you pad across the kitchen floor, unnerved by the unmistakable feeling of being watched. You abandon your post-bath time snack on the counter, clutching at your bathrobe as trepidation gnaws at the back of your mind.

With the curtains drawn, only the glimmering lights on your Christmas tree illuminate the living room. It’s hard to see anything beyond silhouettes and shadows. A quiet night like this amidst the bustling holiday season is a rare treat, and you should be grateful and relaxed, but you just can’t shake the feeling that you’re not alone. 

You try to ignore the frantic beat of your pulse thundering in your ears as you inch closer to the tree. Did someone break in while you were in the shower? The rational part of your brain knows it’s downright laughable to entertain such a thought. A security breach is practically impossible thanks to Tony’s impenetrable tech. Unless…

“You’re back,” you say cautiously, voice no louder than a whisper. 

A surge of longing permeates your being, doing little to appease the rapid beating of your heart. The familiar shuffle of centuries-old leather catches your attention, all fear melting away as you turn to see a formidable figure emerge from the corner. 

Loki.

“I’m back,” he responds simply. 

He closes in, his gaze never leaving yours, the purposeful sound of his heavy boots on your hardwood floors resonating through the space. Loki’s presence is a solace you can’t quite articulate—but suddenly there’s a warmth filling the cracks that etched across your heart when he left. And there’s a calm wrapping around your solitude like a cozy blanket on the coldest winter night.  

You study the god before you, the Christmas lights casting a soft glow over his figure. His dark curls fall in waves atop his shoulders, regally framing his perfectly sculpted features. His brows slant upward as he drinks in the sight of you, a dimple appearing along his cheek as he returns your smile. When he slides his hands around your waist, your stomach somersaults at his touch.

You take a deep breath and reach up to cup his jaw, savoring the coolness of his smooth skin. Loki leans into your palm, closing his eyes and exhaling a deep sigh. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. You can’t resist the urge to pull him into a tight embrace, humming as his strong arms wrap around you in response.

He tenderly presses a kiss to your temple, tugging you closer against his muscular chest. The scent of ancient forests, leather, and musk—along with something sweeter you can’t quite place—invades your senses. Finally, he breaks the comfortable silence. 

“Did you miss me?”

Loki searches your eyes, a hint of apprehension marring his beautiful face. He’s only been gone for about six weeks—which is nothing compared to the months you previously spent without him. But how did you ever think you’d be okay spending the holiday without him? 

You glance up at him with feigned exasperation.

“Of course I missed you, you silly, gorgeous man. But did it ever occur to you to knock? Or call ahead? Perhaps send a raven?” 

A devilish smirk adorns lips. “Now where’s the fun in that?” 

“But what if I’d attacked you? I wasn’t expecting you back until after–” 

“Attacked me?” Loki chuckles, sitting on the sofa and pulling you onto his lap. “Now that I’d like to see.” 

“Is that so?” you ask, caressing the gold plating embellishing his chest and trailing your fingertips across the high collar of his leathers, stopping only when you reach the sharp juncture of his jaw. He peers up at you as you straddle his hips, and the glint of mischief in his eyes is exhilarating. 

“Mm, perhaps later, my little vixen.” 

With a flick of his wrist, a fire roars to life in your hearth. Beyond the crackles and pops of the blaze, a familiar Christmas song begins to play and you swear more twinkling lights appear on your tree. You’re not sure if the night can get more perfect than this.

“What is the phrase you mortals are so fond of this time of year? Season’s Greetings?” 

“Something like that.” 

“You know, we host a similar winter festival on Asgard,” he explains as you tuck his hair behind his ear, exposing the column of his neck. “It’s rather extravagant. Hedonistic, some might say.”

“So, you willingly left the decadence of Asgard. To spend Christmas on Earth. With me.” 

“Is that really so inconceivable, my love? I am, to borrow another turn of phrase, quite smitten, I’m afraid.” 

“Just wanted to be sure,” you tease, but a familiar tingling sparks in your core at his admission. Sometimes you can hardly believe this man—this god—fell so hopelessly in love with you. Of course, you have your issues like any other couple. Dating an alien who once tried to take over your planet does not come without consequence. But, oh, the way he’s looking at you now makes it all worth it. 

“And I believe this is a holiday spent in the company of those you care about, is it not?” he continues. “Besides, Mother quickly picked up on the fact I was more distracted than usual and blessed my departure.”  

“Must remember to thank Frigga for this Christmas surprise,” you joke, pretending to jot down a note. 

The curious arch of Loki’s brows soon contorts into an expression of ecstasy as you begin to work your lips along the column of his neck, nipping at his skin.

“Gods,” he quietly says, shifting beneath you and tightening his grip on your waist. His low rumble of pleasure is a sound you can happily lose yourself in. With a final press of your tongue to the erogenous zone below his ear, you lean back, but Loki is quick to capture your lips in a blistering kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close and savoring the taste of him. A trace of mulled wine lingers on his mouth, and you wonder if he left Asgard in the midst of the aforementioned Yuletide celebration. 

“So, are you going to tell me?” you murmur against his lips. “Or am I to believe it was only the thought of startling me in the middle of the night that drew you away from your royal duties?”

“What?” Loki’s brows furrow in sincere confusion, his mouth agape.

“You said you were distracted…”

“Oh, yes. That.” The knowing glance he gives you in response sends a jolt of arousal coursing through your body. He clears his throat, running his hands under the curve of your ass before rolling you over onto your back.

“I was distracted by you,” he says, pulling your robe open. “You infiltrated my every waking thought, you infuriating woman.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” you giggle, biting your bottom lip as he magicks away his armor. His alabaster skin is ethereal under the amber glow of the blazing fire, every dip of his chiseled torso cast in devastating shadows, muscles rippling beneath his taut skin as he leans over you. Your fingertips ghost over the fine smattering of hair below his navel, their sensuous journey interrupted by a band of leather. You whine, tugging at his trousers. 

“Patience, darling,” he snickers, kissing along your collarbone. His tongue flits along the valley of your breasts and a white hot heat coils in your hips. Loki tilts his chin up, darkened eyes piercing your very soul. “I’m not going anywhere.”  

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth as he moves against your skin. You arch into him with a gasp, fingers digging into the broad expanse of his shoulders, his lithe muscles rippling under your touch.

“And we’ve both been so very patient, haven’t we?”

A wolfish grin creeps across his face as he tenderly pushes your thighs toward your stomach, his hands pushing your knees outward as you offer yourself up to him. You’re completely exposed, but any hint of inhibition dissipates as you note the unadulterated lust in your lover’s eyes.

Loki inhales sharply, greedily consuming what little air is left between you. Within seconds his mouth is warm against your cunt, and a broken moan escapes you. You twist your fingers into his hair as your entire body shudders in response to his enthusiastic movements, your frenzied mind attempting to process the situation. Twenty minutes ago, you were content with the idea of crawling into bed with a tin of shortbread and a good book. And now? Well, if you’re not careful, you’re going to come before things even get started. Loki realizes this and lightly grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his hair and guiding it behind your knee.

“Here,” he says, his hand engulfing yours as he presses it firmly against the back of your trembling thigh. Your pussy clenches at his simple command as you obediently move your legs further apart, contorting your body to his will. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you—all of you—as you settle into the new position, your back relaxing into the softness of the cushions beneath you.

The soles of your feet brace against his clavicles as he dips back between your legs, sucking at the soft flesh along your inner thigh before returning his attention to your core. When his eager tongue glides past your cunt to circle the sensitive area further down, you nearly levitate off the sofa. 

Loki groans as he laps at you, his sinful slurps creating an intoxicating melody in your mind, the Christmas music long forgotten. You choke on air as the calloused pad of his thumb finds your clit, languidly rubbing circles as his tongue continues to explore your hole. The novel sensation is nearly enough to send you over the edge.

Thoughts of experiencing Loki this way had dwelled in the dark recesses of your mind for months now. You’d shamelessly pleaded for it during your last night together all those weeks ago while in the throes of passion. But Loki, with his silver tongue and roguish charm, was infuriatingly persuasive and surprisingly sensible. And so you had agreed to wait.

“Don’t tempt me, little one,” he had coyly responded as he slid the tip of his cock along the curve of your ass, trailing down until he made contact with your cunt. Yet the intensity with which his fingers dug into your hips as you begged for more let you know he wanted it just as much as you did.

“Something to look forward to,” he’d mumbled into your ear as he pressed his firm chest against your back, the sheen of sweat coating your skin intermingling with his as he buried himself inside your cunt for the third time that evening.

Your wait, it seems, is over.

“Norns, you’re divine,” Loki says, lifting his head to peer at you across your heaving torso. He continues rolling his thumb over your clit as he kisses along your stomach, his soft curls falling across your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Shall I keep going?”

“Yes,” you rasp, doing little to conceal the urgent need in your voice. “But don’t we need the–”

You nod toward the bedroom, alluding to the bottle of lube tucked away in your nightstand. But the words catch in the back of your throat as a cool, lubricated finger nudges where Loki’s mouth had just been. You glance down at the god, furrowing your brow as you observe a flash of seidr ignite the space between you. 

“Well, that’s convenient.”

Loki lets out a breathy laugh as he looks up from his spot between your legs, his eyes dark with desire. His raven hair falls in a curtain around his face as his gaze darts back down to your center. 

“I’m giving you exactly what you asked for.” Loki grins, slowly pressing his middle finger inside you. You nearly sob as your anticipation is engulfed by a rush of euphoria.

“I’m giving you all of me,” he adds, an exhilarating ache rippling through your core as a second finger joins the first.

“Oh my god,” you  cry out as the blend of forbidden and familiar pleasure overwhelms your senses. Loki’s fingers steadily move inside you while he licks a wide stripe through your folds and you toss your head back with a hiss. 

“Relax, love,” he says softly, wrapping a large hand behind your knee and guiding it over his shoulder. As you settle into the new position, Loki’s gifted tongue swirls around your throbbing clit, the skillful drag of it sending adrenaline searing through every nerve ending in your body.

“You’re doing so good,” he continues, his voice ragged and deep as he watches you squirm beneath him.

“S-so good,” you echo, keening at his praise. “Loki—fuck—you feel so good.”

He continues to gently move his fingers inside you, pushing deeper with each pump until you feel his palm flatten against your cunt. You slur his name, winding your fingers into his hair once more in an attempt to ground yourself. It doesn’t work. 

“More. Please,” you beg, the words tumbling from your lips without conscious thought. Loki responds by stilling his motions and removing his fingers from you. You huff, pushing yourself up into a seated position and forcing Loki to shuffle onto his knees to avoid sliding off the edge of the sofa. What the hell? 

“Loki…” you caution, your heart wildly beating in your chest as he tauntingly returns your gaze. He simply laughs, clearly amused by your little display of assertiveness.

“Feisty tonight, aren’t we?” he says, hands trailing up your thighs and around the curve of your ass. You both know you’re at his mercy tonight. “I knew I saw your name on the naughty list.” 

“You’re not playing fair.” 

No, he’s just playing on his own terms. Taunting you like he always does—a cat toying with his mouse. 

“I’m merely trying to determine exactly how much more you can take,” he drawls as he nuzzles his nose along your neck.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you respond coyly, running your fingertips along his leather-clad erection.

You know he can see right through you, can sense the way he’s driving you mad. And before you can give your next bratty retort, Loki tightens his grip on your ass and forcefully pulls you toward him. As your bare chest makes contact with his, a shiver rolls down your spine.

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, reveling in the power he possesses. You moan into his mouth as his hands roam your body with a hunger that leaves you breathless. All that matters is the feel of his tongue against yours, the touch of his cool hands on your heated skin. Your pulse quickens as Loki pulls away to admire you, his eyes glazed over with lust. You need him. All of him. Now.

“And I need to hear you say it.”

“I want this, Loki,” you concede breathlessly. “I want you.”

“Words cannot convey how much I want this—want you—in return, my love.” A reassuring smile spreads across his features as he coaxes you to lie back down. Your heartbeat thrums with excitement as you comply with his request, and as you open your legs for him once more, you feel his eyes burning into your skin like a fiery brand.

“You’re sure?” Loki asks quietly, dropping his mask of dominance a moment as he brushes a finger along your slit, skimming the delicate skin between your ass cheeks with the pad of his thumb. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper as he finally—completely—undresses himself in a wave of gold.

Stunning, you think, taking in the vision of Loki kneeling between your legs. His chest heaves with each shallow breath, his cock resting heavy against his muscular thigh. You let out a small whine when his hand leaves your body, wrapping it around the base of his shaft instead. He tosses his head back, and the small grunt that tumbles from his lips as he begins to stroke himself is positively sinful.

“Say it again. Please,” he chokes out, tugging the foreskin over the glistening, swollen head of his cock.

“I need you, Loki,” you say, shifting against the blankets and cushions.

He’s unwaveringly graceful as he guides your legs around his hips, positioning himself above you as the tip of his cock presses into your tight entrance. The pressure is beyond anything you’ve experienced before, and for a fleeting moment, your eyes widen in trepidation. 

“Breathe, darling one.” 

And so you do. Loki guides your breaths as he steadily stretches you to what you’re certain is your limit. You begin to lose yourself as the heady scent of sex wisps through the room like tendrils of Loki’s seidr, entwining with the heightened groans of carnal bliss. 

“Talk to me. Are you okay?” 

“So full. But… but good,” you manage to say, and it’s the truth. As your body relaxes into his movements, everything becomes more comfortable. Your hands graze down his back until they find the firm swell of his ass, pulling him deeper.

Loki growls out an old Norse curse as he bottoms out—his hip bones flush against the back of your thighs. You’ve never taken this much of him before, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You clench in response. 

“My perfect girl,” he praises. With controlled precision, he starts to rock into you and every throbbing inch of his cock drags against your walls in the most delicious way. Soon, his fingers are circling your swollen clit and the pressure in your hips becomes too much to bear.

“So perfect,” he repeats between grunts, your body writhing as he brings you closer and closer to release. Like a caged bird set free, you soar higher and higher, the world spreading beneath you in all its glory as you ascend toward the stars. With one final thrust, you come undone.

Loki presses his forehead to yours as a strangled whimper rips from his throat, his own orgasm quickly following yours. 

You stay like that for a while, a tangle of limbs and heaving breaths on your sofa. Eventually, everything comes back into focus: the fire, the music, the twinkling tree. 

“That was quite the gift,” you say as Loki settles beside you. 

“Certainly, you don’t think that was your only gift?” He tuts and casts you a rakish wink. “Your next surprise awaits you in the bedroom.” 

You giggle as Loki stands and scoops you into his arms. 

“Honestly. What kind of imbecile gives their love only one orgasm on Christmas Eve?” 

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[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter three

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

a/n: this one is pure steam and maybe the best smut I've ever written ;) I hope you all enjoy ittttt

warnings: must be 18+, smut, praise kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, biting, spanking, dirty talk

word count: 2k

series playlist: here

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @fallenlilangel99 (message me to be added!)

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The surgery was excruciating, yet also exhilarating. It lasted nine hours, but watching Bucky work was amazing. He was so calm and in control of everything, maneuvering each unknown with a sense of ease. Even the nurses seemed smitten with him. And his eyes. Every now and then he would peer at me with those eyes and I thought I might melt. Even though we were in the operating room, he was giving me flirty bedroom eyes and I was very into it. He would ask me questions, testing my instincts and my surgical knowledge and with every correct answer he praised me.

And then he let me cut, and I knew I was a goner. He was teaching me by letting me actually do surgical procedures instead of just watching. It wasn’t anything major, but I was doing it when all the other interns hadn’t even seen the OR yet. I loved that he was challenging me to make me a better doctor.

Once the surgery was complete and the patient was stable, Bucky instructed me to close up. It mostly consisted of sutures and tidying up the wound which wasn’t terribly difficult, but it was something I got to take the lead on. Bucky walked out of the OR and I could’ve sworn he gave me a wink as he passed me by. 

When I walked out of the operating room, I felt on top of the world. I couldn’t stop smiling. And then I saw Bucky, in his scrubs, leaning on the counter by the nurses station, biting into an apple. I knew I was toast. The only explanation for my actions is that my brain was not working rationally, still feeling the natural high from surgery.

I joined him at the nurses station, pretending like I was looking at paperwork.

“Nice work in there, Dr. Barnes,” I complimented.

“Why thank you Dr. Y/L/N.” 

“Would you mind coming with me? I have a patient issue that I think you should see.”

“Is it urgent?” he asked, taking the last bite of his apple.

“Very urgent,” I said. Before I could wait for a response, I walked down the hall, away from the patient rooms. 

It wasn’t a long walk to our destination. I could sense Bucky walking behind me and heard him say, “Where exactly are we go-”

Before he could finish his question, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the on-call room. I deftly locked the door and pushed him against the wall, immediately connecting my lips to his. I kissed him with desire and it only took him a few seconds to react and kiss me back. He tasted sweet as I sucked the lingering nectar from his honeycrisp apple off his bottom lip. The next minute, his hands were all over me and I was trying to get his scrub top off.

“You were amazing in there,” I breathed as he kissed my neck. 

“Prepare to be amazed again,” he replied.

“My god, you’re so cocky,” I stated, in between kisses.

“You got that right,” he smiled as he redirected my hand to the bulge in his pants. His arrogance was oddly a turn on, and I knew it was completely warranted. He was good at his craft: in the OR and in the bedroom.

I slid my hand into his pants and grabbed his throbbing erection, moving my hand up and down the shaft with varying levels of pressure.

“You are such a tease,” he whispered, effortlessly pulling off my scrub top.

“You like it,” I countered, tugging on his earlobe with my teeth. That set him off and I was no longer in control. 

He now had me pinned against the wall with my pants around my ankles. I worked to get my shoes off and kick my pants away as Bucky’s fingers started exploring my folds and circling my clit.

“How’s that, baby?” he murmured. 

I barely had a response, “So, so good.” I clawed his bare back as a means of portraying my arousal. 

“I’m gonna need more than that.” He unclasped my bra with his free hand and his mouth was on my nipple like cobalt being pulled toward a magnet. I let out an involuntary moan and my head lolled back onto the wall with a gentle thud. He pulled his lips from my breast to work his way up my chest, pausing to bite my collarbone, before invading my mouth yet again. He increased the intensity of his fingering and a deep moan escaped my mouth right into his. He pulled back slightly and smiled into the inch of air between our lips.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked. It was then I noticed he had shed his pants and his hard-on was eagerly poking my abdomen.

I nodded my head as I tried to still my breathing in preparation for what was to come.

“Use your words, sweetie.”

“Yes, please. I need you inside of me, Bucky.” Hearing his name across my lips sent him into a frenzy. He grabbed my backside and hoisted me up, pushing me into the wall even further. I wrapped my legs around his torso and he effortlessly slid into my sopping wet pussy.

“Fuck,” I breathed as his phallus filled me up. He continued thrusting in and out, changing up the tempo when I least expected it.

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking my cock so well.” His praise turned me on more, if that was even possible. “You’re so tight, you feel amazing.” I clutched onto him tighter, running my fingers up his neck and through his cropped hair. I clutched his short hair in my hands and pulled his head back, away from my face. He looked surprised initially, until he realized I wasn’t signaling for him to stop, I was redirecting him. I offered my exposed neck to him and he grinned before running his tongue from my ear down to my shoulder. I sighed when he opened his jaw wide and sunk his teeth gently into my shoulder. I shuddered as he sucked in, surely leaving a mark on my fair skin.

“Oh you like it a little rough huh?” he asked, working his tongue around my ear. I couldn’t form words, so I just nodded my head and let out another heavy breath. He smacked my ass and I let out a little yelp, taken by surprise but enjoying the tingling sensation.

“I’ll give you rough,” he growled. He carried me over to the squeaky mattress and tossed me down. I grinned up at him and saw him smiling down at me, “Flip over, pretty girl.” I moved so that I was in tabletop position, propped up on my elbows and Bucky grabbed my hips with his steady hands and yanked me toward him. He entered me from behind with a quick thrust and I was back in a euphoric state. He worked quicker this time, his thrusts moving at an increased pace and his hand continued to find my ass without causing too much pain. 

My mind was cloudy as I neared my orgasm, but I remember him continuing to praise me with words like, “You’re such a good girl, taking my big cock.” There was a final deep thrust and shockwaves ran through my body. I had no control over the sounds coming out of my mouth as I finished and Bucky was right behind me, pulling out and spreading his seed over my bare back. As I drifted back down to earth I purred, “You are a god,” before realizing just how pathetic those words were. Bucky didn’t acknowledge my compliment and instead found his scrub top and cleaned me off.

I turned over and slid under the covers of the bed, seeking a moment to catch my breath and reflect post-coital. I was surprised when Bucky slid in next to me and planted a kiss on my forehead.

“What are you doing?” I asked, stunned by his actions.

“I’m cuddling you,” he replied, turning me to the side so he could spoon me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because we just had sex and that’s what you do after sex.”

“Maybe if you’re in a relationship, which we are not.”

“Oh come on, just enjoy this.” He said, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me tight toward him. I had to admit, it did feel nice.

We caught our breaths in silence for a moment, but my head was reeling. I couldn’t believe that I initiated this. What was I thinking? This was such a bad idea. And the over-analytical side of me couldn’t put it to rest.

“So, this can’t happen again,” I finally stated.

“Oh really? As I seem to recall, you initiated this.”

“In a moment of weakness,” I argued.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that.”

“I did,” I admitted, “But it was a bad idea.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s inappropriate! You’re my superior. You’re supposed to be mentoring me and teaching me things.”

“Oh I can teach you plenty of things,” he purred.

“Not sex things. Surgery things.”

“Who says those things have to be mutually exclusive?” he turned me over so that I was facing him.

“I cannot be the intern who is screwing her attending.”

“Who cares?” he asked.

“I care! I want to be known as a good surgeon for my skills, not because my boyfriend is letting me scrub in on all his surgeries.”

“Did you just call me your boyfriend?” he preened.

I rolled my eyes, “It was hypothetical.”

“Regardless, I’m going to play favorites whether or not we’re together because I think you have a talent for trauma and you’re better than all the other interns. The fact that I like looking at you and I enjoy being around you is just an added bonus.”

“Okay but you are an esteemed surgeon. I am barely out of med school. If things go south, I’m the one that’s getting fired. And I care too much about my career to jeopardize that.”

“Well I certainly don’t plan to mess this up.”

I sighed. How could he be this stubborn and so charming at the same time. 

“I’m serious Bucky, this can’t happen again.”

“Whatever you say doll.” I didn’t know what else to say. It seemed like the more I declared this to be a bad idea, the more I wanted it. And Bucky clearly had no concerns about the situation whatsoever. 

He interrupted my thoughts with the words, “Praise kink, huh…” I blushed and turned to him, not willing to admit he was right. “It makes sense. You’re a doctor and you crave positive feedback. You like knowing you’re the best.”

“How could you tell?”

“I see it in the OR. Every time you do something right, you hold yourself a little higher, happy to have impressed. I figured you might be that way in bed. But you’re quiet too.”

I nodded my head, trying not to give away any more info. “Why is that?” he added.

“...I don’t like being in charge.”

“Now that is interesting. Because funny enough, I love being in charge.” His voice was lower, almost seductive.

“I know what you’re doing, and it is not going to work.” At this point, I climbed out of bed, redressing and preparing to get back on the floor.

“We’ll see about that,” she said smugly. I rolled my eyes as I searched the ground for my thong. Once I was fully dressed, I ran a hand through my hair to try and tame it.

“I’m going back to work now,” I said, about to exit the room.

“Thank you Dr. Y/L/N. When you find yourself in need of a sex god, you know where to find me,” he said, shooting me a toothy grin. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist using my words against me.

I shot him a death glare and said, “Bye Bucky.”

next chapter

[ninyard]

“God, how blind can you be?”

That would be such a great line for a kevjean confession if Jean ever told Kevin abt his crush on him in the nest.

Ty, have a great day :))

You’re a genius!!! Here’s Kevin being Oblivious and Confused while Jean admits how he’s always felt about him :))

-

“Can I ask you something?” Kevin lay in Jeremy’s bed, on top of the covers, with arms outstretched and his feet dangling off the edge. “But you can’t get defensive, because I’m not the one who’s wondering.”

“Now I am obligated to be defensive.” Jean was sitting on his back up against the wall on his own bed, scribbling notes in a notebook for an assignment due far too soon. Kevin had texted him earlier that morning saying that he was in town, and with Jeremy at home because it was a weekday, alongside the schoolwork Jean had started to fall behind on, the best way for the two to catch up was to invite Kevin over. “Ask, then.”

“Are you…” Kevin sat himself up to look at Jean before he continued. “Are you and Renee a thing?”

“No.” Jean laughed. “She has not told you this?”

“We aren’t that close,” Kevin shook his head. “She likes you, you know.”

Jean could feel himself blushing, but hoped his newfound tan covered the colour that spread across his cheeks. “I know. We’ve spoken about it.”

“You’ve spoken about it,” Kevin repeated as if saying it again would make it make more sense. “I thought you liked her.”

“It would never work.” Jean said. “She saved my life. It would always be hanging over the two of us.”

“Okay, sure, but…” Kevin moved to get a better view of Jean while they spoke. “You do like her?”

Jean read his face with a gentle smile, shutting his notebook and putting it to one side. “What is this about?”

His friend squinted his eyes, perhaps hoping he could get his point across telepathically without having to say it out loud. He glanced towards the door and laughed. “So you like Renee.”

“I will always love her for what she has done,” Jean said with a shrug. “But no, not so much anymore. We’re good friends.”

“Point being,” Kevin nodded with an over exaggerated, enthusiastic bob of his head. “You’re into women.”

Jean felt his face fall, as if Kevin had forgotten his name, or forgotten which position he played in. He scoffed, half a laugh and half disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“Am I right?”

“Kevin, you can’t be serious.” Jean echoed, and Kevin furrowed his eyebrows as if he had any right to be confused. “Where has this come from?”

“A friend of a friend wants to know,” Kevin brushed that off, and continued his staring stand-off with Jean. “Why would I not be serious?”

Jean gestured around himself, not even able to come up with a simple answer to his question. Jean was never bothered about the labelling of his sexuality, but had been bothered by its display. At least, publically, he thought, which just translated to not in front of Riko. Not Kevin, never Kevin. Kevin had known, or so he thought, about his infatuations and fleeting glances at the men he thought were handsome. Kevin had known about himself, and how it made Jean feel every time he heard the sweet sound of his native tongue falling from his lips.

“You…” Nothing felt good enough, and Jean laughed at the absurdity of it all. “You know it’s not just women, Kevin.”

Kevin blinked. “Do I?”

“Those foxes have rotted your brain,” Jean switched to French, ever so slightly startling Kevin out of his confused daze. “I knew you had moved on from the nest, but I did not think you would have forgotten so much about me.”

“Well, in my defense,” Kevin responded in his learned language, and Jean melted a little bit more inside. “Jeremy asked you if you were into men, and you never answered him, so he assumed he’d read you wrong.”

“Jeremy?” Jean spat in a failed whisper. “What does Jeremy have to do with this?”

Kevin became even more confused. “Who else would it have anything to do with?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Jean shifted his position to sit closer to the edge of the bed. “You know it has everything to do with you.”

“Me?” He said in English, as if wary he’d gotten the translation wrong. He continued in French. “Okay, there must be a miscommunication here.” He switched back to English then, as he started to stumble over his French, suddenly self conscious that he was not speaking correctly. “I’m lost, Jean.”

“I have always been open with you,” Jean said. “I have never hidden from you my interests in men and women. Why would you pretend not to know that?”

Kevin open and closed his mouth a few times, his hands outstretched, waiting for the answer to fall into them. “I didn’t know that.”

Jean shut his eyes to process what Kevin was saying. Perhaps Jean had simply given his intelligence far too much credit, and he had not been as clear to Kevin as he’d imagined he’d been. He thought that impossible, with their shared glances on a lonely night, with their comfort of each other when Riko wasn’t looking. “Some of them you like,” Jean quoted something he’d said to him before. “You said this about the Trojans. If you were not talking about the striker, then who were you talking about?”

“Like, as in,” Kevin’s smile was more genuine than awkward, apparently finding some amusement out of the confusion. “A fan of. You like someone. They interest you. You’re as much of a Jeremy fan as I am. I didn’t think you were into him.”

“And you were not.” Jean didn’t pose it as a question, more of a statement, an answer for himself.

“He’s not bad to look at, don’t get me wrong,” Kevin laughed at the thought. “But not like that. He’s just a really good friend.”

Jean pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Kevin’s movement and felt the weight on the bed next to him as he sat down. When Jean opened his eyes, he had to look away, far too intoxicatingly reminded of his buried thoughts about Kevin.

“Jean,” Kevin pulled his attention back to him, and Jean forced himself to look into his eyes. “Why did you say it has everything to do with me?”

“God,” Jean clicked his tongue in pity, either for himself for being so stupid to think Kevin knew, or at Kevin for not noticing. “How blind can you be?”

“You had a crush on me.” Kevin’s voice was neutral. “You never told me.”

Jean sighed with a hesitant smile. “I thought I did.”

It felt like an age before Kevin decided to respond. It felt like the season had passed, like a year in Raven time had gone by, before he spoke. It was hard to ignore the blush that crept across his lightly freckled cheeks, as Jean found himself fixated on the chess piece on his cheekbone. They were too close, now, and he could feel himself burning up with the shame of it all.

���I didn’t know.” It was simple, not enough, but perhaps the best he could do. “For how long?”

Jean couldn’t help the twitch that spread up his face, “You are the one interested in history, not me.”

“Humor me.”

“For as long as I have known you, Kevin Day.” His eyebrows raised in surprise at that answer. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“Oh,” was all he could say. He couldn’t find a smile that would sit comfortably on his face, and Jean wasn’t sure whether his fidgeting was discomfort or not.

“I never expected anything to come from it,” he attempted to clear the air. “I assumed you knew and simply decided not to address it. Looking back, it’s best you didn’t know, then, I think.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Kevin’s voice was low as he racked his brain for evidence to support Jean’s truth. “I wish you’d told me.”

“To feed your ego?” Jean laughed. “To make a straight man feel better to know he is desirable from either side?”

“You don’t have to say that, either.” Kevin spoke in French like it were a secret. “I’m with Thea now, sure, but,” he struggled. “I’m not exactly, you know… strict about it. It’s just easier this way.”

The only thing Jean could do was look at him.

The only thing he could bear to think was all the times he’d whispered in Jean’s ear, and Jean had to hide the shiver that travelled down his spine at the heat of the words thats he spoke. He thought of Kevin’s hands around his waist as he forced him into position on the court, a quick touch, an order to be better, a demand to be where he needed him to be. Then there was the blood, and the spit running down his chin, black hair stuck to sweat and tears as he cried please, Jean. Take him away from here. He thought of exposed bone and blood trickling through the cracks on the locker room floor, or a cracked skull against a door frame when he found Riko afterwards. There was the note, a single sloppy word, poorly written by a hand that had never wrote before. Sorry. The paper had been marked with Kevin’s blood, and it would be the last thing he would hear from him for months.

Kevin had stopped Jean’s hands before he noticed them travelling up his own throat.

“For the record, there is only one reason why nothing would have come from it,” Kevin meant it as a comfort, and Jean felt his heart break a little bit more. “But it’s the same reason it never would have worked.”

Jean was not naive, either. He was smart enough to know there was no universe in which any sort of relationship with Kevin would have been realistic. He was a beautiful face during a time that was rarely beautiful, a face that patched him up when he was black and blue, a face that smiled and joked at him when all he wanted was an end to the suffering. “I know.” Jean said, acutely aware that Kevin had not let go of his hands, even as they rested between them on the bed. “You will always be my first love, but I am smart enough to know that is meaningless now.”

“Maybe so,” Kevin looked at their hands. “But it could have been fun.”

“Fun, he says,” Jean scoffed, and Kevin laughed one of his genuine laughs, the tension in the room dissipating with the sound of his joy. Jean pulled his hand away from Kevin’s, to cover his face. He could feel himself blushing at the thoughts of what fun could have meant. “And what would you have done, asked the king to leave your room for an hour?”

It was Kevin’s turn to blush then, as he laughed again. Jean tried to push down the resurfacing feelings as he wondered what he could’ve possibly been imagining. “We would have found a way.” His laugh died off with a wistful sigh. “Somehow.”

“Somehow.” Jean agreed.

Kevin let the silence hang for just a moment before he gently reached up to touch Jean’s tattoo, then letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Maybe in another life.”

Jean swallowed and let out a soft exhale. “Maybe.”

They spent far too long just looking at each other, imagining what could have happened in that other life, wondering how it could’ve been different. Kevin eventually got back to the point of his conversation, and after laughing about how Jean has a thing for strikers, and how Kevin had never actually had a crush on Jeremy, Jean ignored his study for the flowing conversations he’d missed so badly. It was true that Kevin had been his first love, and he would be lying to himself if he said it would ever go away, but they had been each other’s only friend for so long. It was a long overdue catch-up without the threat of violence for laughing too loud, or sitting too close together. He didn’t pretend not to notice the way Kevin’s eyes flicked to his lips every now and again, or how quickly he would look away when he caught himself doing so. It was difficult to ignore how his cheeks turned rosy then, and even more so difficult to ignore how much he’d forgotten how beautiful Kevin really was.

For just a single, simple moment Jean wondered what it would be like to kiss him. That was a thought that had not crossed his mind for a very, very long time. Jean pictured a timeline in which they were both able to give it a shot without immeasurable guilt, or shame, or fear over the court of public opinion. He found himself being reminded over and over again that Kevin had finally said it himself that his sexuality was a fluid thing. There were more reasons that not to write it off as a wrong place, wrong time kind of issue, but even with the stomach churning, butterfly inducing thought of Jeremy Knox and his callused hands, it was certain that Kevin would always be his greatest what-if.

It was a pity that they would both continue on with their lives not knowing what could have been, but perhaps for the best; they were both at points in their lives where, for the first time ever, they were happy. They were not constantly glancing over their shoulders waiting for a threat.

Maybe in another life, Jean told himself. Maybe in some other world.

[undertheorangetree]

Under the God's Eye

Chapter Eight- The Decision

Summary- Aemond attempts to make amends.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Grovelling apology. Vaginal fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Multiple orgasms. Happy endings in every sense of the word. Fluff.

Author's Note- This is it!! Thank you so much for joining me on my little foray into modern AUs. I hope you all enjoyed every bit of this the same way I enjoyed writing it<3 link to the full chapter below!

Series masterlist

dividers by firefly-graphics

When she wakes the next morning, her head is pounding, her eyes are swollen, and she's covered in a thin sheen of sweat. After recounting her story on the boat, Baela had insisted that she sleep in her room in the guest house, an offer she was in no place to refuse. Helaena and Sara had gone and retrieved her things from Aemond's room, all three of them promising to take her home the next morning with Rhaena in tow, reassuring her that they would make a day out of it. She had started crying again then, drunken gratitude coming over her like a wave and they had all crushed her beneath a hug.

Though she had assured them that she would be alright, none would leave her and they had all fallen asleep in Baela's bed, pressed tight to ensure they all fit.

She pulls away from the dogpile in the bed, carefully crawling over the other still sleeping bodies and padding her way across the room. Grabbing a hoodie she thinks is Baela's, she pushes her feet into a pair of shoes and makes her way outside, shutting the door softly behind her. As poorly as this has all ended, she would like to look at the lake one last time before she leaves. She doubts she will ever come here again, on her own or with someone else, so she may as well enjoy a few quiet moments next to the water. There have been few opportunities for it.

The dock is a short walk away, two plastic chairs already sat on the edge, and she lets out a heavy breath as she sits down. It's still early, the air cold and the sun casting a red-gold hue across the sky, half hidden by the clouds. The water is still as death, reflecting the morning sky back like a mirror, and she allows the peace of the moment to wash over her, tugging her sleeves down to cover her hands.

It feels like a herculean feat, not to think of Aemond. For two weeks, she had spent nearly every morning wrapped in him. The memory of it is seared into her brain and she thinks she can almost smell his cologne even now. She hates it, hates the power he has over her after all he has done.

The alcohol has worked its way through her, leaving nothing but a dull ache in its wake, but she is still so angry. She had thought perhaps she would calm in the morning, but that stab of betrayal is still raw in her chest, nearly enough to keep her warm. But that anger eventually melts into sadness, something she thinks is infinitely worse, and soon she feels warm tears slide down her cheeks, cooling in the morning air. She lets them fall, not bothering to pull her hands out of her sleeves when she knows there is more to come, and sniffles pitifully.

She will feel better once she’s back home. In her own bed, listening to bickering roommates and the shriek of backfiring cars. There is still a little over a month of summer left. She can spend that time making up for everything she had sacrificed in order to come here. Pray someone will let her volunteer so she can work up something that could get her an in for an internship. It had all seemed so less daunting when she thought she had the Targaryen and Hightower internship waiting in the wings but she will make the best of it. She always has.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, staring at the lake, silent tears falling, but it’s long enough for the sun to rise a bit higher, for the weight on her chest to ease a little. Truthfully, it’s almost peaceful, the first moment she has been alone for weeks.

"Hey," a quiet voice greets suddenly and she turns to find Helaena making her way toward her. She has a soft look on her face, radiating empathy, but she still tries to wipe the tears from her face before Helaena can notice. "Can I join you?"

She nods, turning her face away to hide it before asking, "Is everyone else awake?"

"No. Just me."

She nods again and waits as Helaena makes herself comfortable in the chair opposite her, tucking her legs up to sit cross legged. For a long time, they just sit in silence, both of their eyes locked on the lake before them. She knows the shoe is about to drop, that Helaena is simply waiting for the right opportunity to speak, but somehow that doesn’t fill her with the dread she expects it too. Somehow, that calm from before is still sitting with her, keeping her from panicking too much about Helaena’s intentions.

The sun continues rising, the air staying cold, and the longer they stay silent, the more she thinks that Helaena will simply allow them to sit in it. But the moment she becomes convinced of that, Helaena speaks.

“How are you feeling? Could you not sleep?”

Read the rest here

Taglist- @backyardfolklore @docmartinis @watercolorskyy @barbieaemond @bellaisasleep @yentroucnagol @aemondsbabygirl @randomdragonfires @at-a-rax-ia @violetletovi @launotfound @helaenaluvr @solisarium @bellstwd @moonlightfoxx

[risenwrites]

Warnings: Suggestive, mdni, vibrator, established relationship, fluff, Law might be ooc but idk

AU: Modern

A/n: This started out ad a brain worm not long after midnight lol but it turned into this. I feel like the ending is a bit weak but I've never been good at writing endings 😔

Law stared at the tiny black remote in his hand that you had given him. Although he wasn't entirely sure what this remote was for. He glanced up from the small pink device, looking at you for any sign you'd tell him what this was supposed to be. When all you did was flush a brighter pink, he sighed softly and looked back at the remote. Slowly, his thumb brushed over the top button on the remote. He didn't press it, but you still shivered in what he could only assume was anticipation.

Thank god you were an open book sometimes. At least now he had an idea of what was happening.

"... What is this?" he asked, wanting to confirm his guess.

Hearing you stutter out nonsense had him look at you again. You were nervously fiddling with your fingers and rubbing your thighs together, confirming his suspicions without needing to say anything. A slight frown tugged down his neutral expression, but you seemed too caught up in being flustered to notice.

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to do anything like this yet," he commented, snapping you out of your flustered state.

You're eyes widen a little; then you look away with what he could only describe as embarrassment and a little shame on your face. "Yeah, I know..." you softly begin to answer, "but I felt terrible for putting that boundary about not doing anything related to sex."

Law felt his heart melt, wondering if he had unintentionally acted harshly toward you since you set that boundary about a month ago. "You really shouldn't," he said softly. "I overreacted when you told me you didn't feel ready. It's okay to set boundaries. Especially if it involves something you don't feel ready for," Law explained, hoping he sounded comforting instead of reprimanding.

"I know it's just..." you started, nervousness lacing your voice, "I set that boundary more to keep myself from breaking my beliefs and personal code rather than not feeling ready, if that makes any sense. Because even though I don't want to have sex or anything outside of marriage, I want you. I want you so bad it sometimes hurts. Late at night, I fantasize about the things I want to do with you, the things I want you to do to me, and sometimes I-I touch myself while thinking about you and those things," you confess and ramble shyly.

Law stared at you, genuinely shocked to hear you confess something so lewd. A gentle pink dusted across his face as he looked away while covering his mouth. When he glanced back at you, he saw how your eyes widened, clearly worried you had said something wrong.

Damn it, why did you have to be so cute?

"So you bought a vibrator as a sort of compromise?" Law asked, lightly pressing the top button, watching how you tensed up.

A slight smug smirk appeared on Law's face as he pressed the top button several times. He watched your face shift to one of surprise and pleasure. You whimpered and pressed your legs together in an attempt to deal with the vibrations deep in your core.

You quickly nodded, starting to fidget with your fingers again with your eyes locked on the remote in his hand. "Y-yeah... if that's okay," you answered.

Law took a step closer and placed a hand on your face only to gently put his thumb in your mouth to press down your tongue, whispering, "Trust me, it's more then just okay."

©this work belongs to risenwrites, do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 14- Mafia!Grimmjow x Reader (Phone Sex)

*Requested by Reader*       

Honestly, you should have known better than to get involved in dangerous situations. You should have known better, but when it was your vagina doing the talking, all sense left the window. You remembered the first time you saw Grimmjow. His tall and cruel dementor made your panties soaked. You were sure he had that effect with all the woman, so when Grimmjow started talking to you, you nearly died. Your heart almost leaped out of your chest when he asked for your name.

        You should have known better when he gave you his number. Everything about him screamed trouble. So and so that you actually listened to your brain and ignored him. Grimmjow did not like that and started to peruse you. You, being so head over heels for the man you met just once, was all for the game. Eventually, you gave in and started to see Grimmjow whenever he was free. You should have known better, but god he was hot.

        Eventually, you found out the truth, that Grimmjow was a member of the Espada mafia. He had his own branch family and people who worked under him. You were scared when you first found out. Grimmjow was close to bribing you to stay, but you were swayed by his words. He promised to protect you and keep you safe. That you were his and his alone. He always knew how to make your heart flutter.

"And then the customer had the gall to tell me that I was doing my job wrong! Like, ugh! I hate my job!" You cried, venting to Grimmjow as the two of you walked downtown. Grimmjow was on his phone with one arm around your shoulder,

"I told ya to quit. I can take care of ya, babe." He said lowly, barely paying attention. You huffed your cheeks out,

"I can't let you spoil me! I want to work!"

"Hm? Then work for me," Grimmjow put his phone away, smirking at your expression, "I can make good use of ya, babe. Nothin' that ya can't handle and of course...something only ya could do for me."

"G-Grimmjow! D-Don't say stuff like that in public!"

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

        You truly considered Grimmjow's offer for a moment. You really hated your job and Grimmjow was just so charming. You knew what he was implying. He wanted you to be his fuck toy at work. The thought made you quiver with delight. You and Grimmjow had sex a few times already. He was so rough with you, but you loved each moment of it. The only reason you were afraid of taking his offer was because of his peers and lackeys.

        They must have thought that you were just his sex relief for the time being. You heard them talk about it once. That you were just a temporary fuck for their leader. It hurt your feelings, but Grimmjow always made those thoughts go away. He always reassured you that you were only for him. There was no way any of this was fake. This relationship you had with him felt too real.

"Hey, (Y/n), I gotta go out for a job outta town. I trust ya to behave while I'm gone." Grimmjow wrapped his arms around your waist, inhaling your scent.

"Awe, how long will you be gone?" You whined, melting into his touch.

"Bout a week. So gimme some love before I go."

"Mhm, only if you promise-"

"I ain't promising shit."

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

        It was nearing the end of the week and you hadn't heard from Grimmjow. His job made you worry. Being part of the mafia was not something anyone could do. You've seen news reports of mafia members being killed from a trifle within families or life in prison. You were afraid of that happening to Grimmjow one day. You were afraid to tell him, but you loved Grimmjow. You just hoped he felt the same. 

        After a long and hard day at work, you were happy to see your apartment. A nice hot shower and some food was going to make you feel so much better. You really hated your job. Once you refreshed, you planted yourself on the couch for some television drama. Feeling your phone buzz, you cheered quietly seeing that it was Grimmjow.

"Grimm! Are you okay?!" Your tone full of worry.

"I'm fine, babe. Fuck, I wish I was there now, I need ya."

"Grimm?" You heard him panting for air, "Are you sure you're okay?" You asked once more.

"Yea, just lemme hear yer voice. I ain't there to make ya cry,"

"Oh!" You felt your cheeks burn up, "Y-You want me to-"

"Yea, I wanna hear yer voice. It will make me feel better."

        How could you say no? Making your way to the bedroom, you crawled on the bed. It was the only place you could get horny, unless it involved Grimmjow. Putting the phone on speaker, you laid down and started to massage your breasts. Grimmjow wanted to hear you. Imagining Grimmjow's hands instead, you let out a whimper.

"Yer imagining me, right. Where are ya touchin'?" You could hear his smirk.

"My boobs,"

"Awe, my melons. Hehe, are ya pinching em nipples for me."

"Y-Yes."

        You arched your back slightly as you did what Grimmjow said. You wanted Grimmjow here. You wanted him to touch you. You were never really good at doing it yourself.

"Start rubbin' yer clit, babe. I wanna hear ya moan." Grimmjow groaned.

        You whined, wanting his touch. You took your panties off and placed your fingers over your sensitive bud. Just listening to Grimmjow giving you commands was making you wet. If only he were here to do something about it. You wiggled your hips as you started to moan. This was as far as you could go. Rubbing your clit until you cam. 

"That's right, babe. Keep goin' lemme hear ya beg for me." Grimmjow chuckled, "Ya want my dick in ya, huh? I wanna hear ya say it."

"I-I do! Grimm, when are you coming back." You moaned, closing your legs as you felt your walls starting to clench, "I miss you."

"Soon, baby. Grab one of those toys ya got. Imagine my dick enterin' that slutty pussy of yours." 

        You arched your back, moaning as you reached your orgasm. You could hear Grimmjow chuckling, demanding more. You were hesitant, but you grabbed one of the dildos that you rarely used. Placing it on the bed, you hovered over it. You closed your eyes, listening to Grimmjow grunt and moan. He was masturbating too. Oh, how you wish he was here.

"Are ya ready, babe?"

"Y-Yes. I-It's mhm...g...going in..." You whimpered, sliding the dildo into your hole.

"Fuck, wish that was my dick, don't ya?"

"Y-Yes! Hah, Grimm!"

"Yeah, fuck yer self dumb imagin' that was me. Lemme hear yer voice."

        You moaned loudly as you bounced on your dildo, listening to Grimmjow's voice. His low grunts, helping your imagination as if he were the one fucking you. Your bouncing started to slow down as you felt yourself about to burst. You whined, rubbing your clit, trying to chase your high.

"Grimmjow!" You moaned loudly.

"(Y/n)" Grimmjow cussed lowly as you cam, "Fuck, babe, I'm gonna make sure ya quit yer job for real. Need to have ya here with me."

"Hah, but..."

"No buts. Yer my girl. I'll be back soon, I'll call ya again to hear yer voice."

"Yes, Grimm."

        You let out a low whimper as Grimmjow hung up. You shivered as you went to clean your dildo and yourself. Grimmjow was going to be home soon. That was all you needed to hear.

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

"Lemme hear ya louder. Need to make sure those fingers are doin' their job." Grimmjow chuckled darkly over the phone.

"Y-Yes, I-I ah...ah..."

"That's it, louder."

"G-Grimm...G-Grimm!" You cried out, trembling as you were reaching your first orgasm.

"Fuck, look at ya go." Grimmjow smirked as he opened your door, still on the phone, "Gonna make sure ya keep cryin' my name."

"G-Grimm!" You moaned, staring at him as you cam.

        Grimmjow hovered over you, replacing your fingers with his. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trembling under his touch. Grimmjow took his phone and started to record. He placed the phone next to you, wanting to capture every single moment. Grimmjow sucked against your neck, his fingers pumped inside your pussy faster.

"Ya know, hearing ya so desperate over the phone was fuckin' delicious. I might make it a normal thing."

"B-But....I rather....have....ah~"

"Awe, ya rather have my dick fuck ya? How cute." Grimmjow chuckled, watching your face contort as you orgasmed again. Grimmjow licked his lips before finally giving you what you wanted, "No girl of mine is gonna be working at some shitty ass job."

"G-Grimm-" You cried as he shoved his dick inside your gummy walls.

"It ain't right of a mafia's woman to be workin'. Yer gonna be stayin' home waitin' for me, waitin' for ma call."

"Y-Yes!"

"Good. Let's call em now."

        You arched your back as Grimmjow ruthlessly pounded your pussy. He reached for your phone, enjoying your moans getting louder as you squeezed his cock more. He called your job, smirking as your job answered.

"Go ahead. Quit." Grimmjow placed the phone by you, thrusting faster.

"A-Ah~ I-I....I....q-quit!" You cried out, reaching another orgasm. Grimmjow loved the look on your face, all cock drunk and fucked out of your mind.

"What do you mean you quit? The hell is that noise?" Your boss yelled. Grimmjow chuckled darkly as he filled you,

"Awe, looks like (Y/n) can't think anymore. She fuckin' quits." Grimmjow said as you became a moaning mess. He grabbed your phone, hanging up before returning to your fucked out expression, "Can't wait for tomorrow."

"G-Grimm~"

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

        When you finally came too and realized that you quit, you were a little mad at Grimmjow. You easily forgave him after he treated you to dinner and a deep fuck. You became his house wife, engulfing him with phone sex almost every day. Grimmjow kept saying that you were the one who liked it, but really...He was the one who loved it. Your sweet desperate cries for him just turned him on more. And he was sure to keep you wanting him.

[mummers-of-the-heart]

To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.

Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic

Word count: 1072

Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.

Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)

The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.

One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.

It all felt so distant.

Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.

As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.

At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.

You.

A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.

His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."

He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.

"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."

Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.

There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.

As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.

Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.

The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.

A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.

A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.

But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.

The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.

Tired but understanding.

It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.

A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.

What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?

They kept scratching at the back of his mind.

I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.

Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.

The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.

“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”

You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.

“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.

“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”

You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.

A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.

As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.

In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”

“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”

As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.

His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.

Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.

Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.

“My only… Make me happy when…”

Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.

By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.

In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.

AN: Like what you read? Consider reblogging or leaving a comment. Thanks for reading.

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Seven

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Seven!! Sorry it's taken a while, I've been busy with life and went away with some friends, but it's finally here! It's a long one too, so hoping it makes up for the wait. Also, I write music but fuckkk is it hard trying to actually rap, so this is just a forewarning to everyone seeing as there's a scene in this part that involves exactly that! Hope you enjoy it anyway:) Thank you for all the love on this series!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

“What’s your favourite chocolate?” I wondered around the Twizzler I’d gone ahead and stolen from the bag he’d gotten at the 7-Eleven. We’d been driving for a little while now, just under a half hour if I had to guess, and between us we had already succumbed to three short-lived encounters with brain freeze, all down to the Slurpee we continued to keep sharing. 

“Like brand?” Marshall questioned me, face wrinkling in confusion as he made another left hand turn, fingers loosening around the steering wheel when it righted itself.

“No,” I shook my head in answer, chewing on the red stick before I held out its end to Em when he tipped his chin in an asking gesture, “I don't know. Like, type?”

He had to think about it for a second, jaw working against the chewy sweet whilst his eyes continued to trail the length of road ahead. “Fuck, I don’ know. Like a Hershey’s maybe?”

I pulled a face at the reply, “Boring. Figured you might say M&M’s or something. Bring a little irony to the table, you know?”

Marshall’s head tilted sideways to level me with a snide look before he stole the next Twizzler right from out of my hand, “Hilarious.” He deadpanned as he took a big bite, “Come on then, Judge Judy. Tell me yours.”

Even whilst wrinkling my nose at his reference to the Tv Judge, I was quick with my retort, “Easy. Can’t go wrong with a Flake or a KitKat.”

“Heard of that first one.” Marshall mentioned, face dropping its previous snark as he pondered on my answer, “Ain’t ever tried it though.”

My eyes widened as I simultaneously turned to face him, ignoring the way my knee knocked against the centre console in my haste. “Oh, you’ve got to! It’s honest to God like Heaven melting in your mouth.”

With an unconvinced brow, Marshall just blew out a breath and shook his head at me. “But a KitKat?” He added after a second passed, “I don’t know. I mean, a chunky I could prolly get behind.”

My upper lip curled, “A chunky, really? What are you, twelve?”

Marshall returned the quip with a stupid look and then stole the rest of the Twizzler pack as a form of retaliation.

I rolled my eyes and it wasn’t long before he waved the topic away, claiming it was stupid anyway because Oreos were supposedly where it was at. An opinion which was strong enough steered us onto a whole new debate: biscuits vs cookies. 

I was still fighting for my life by the time Em eventually pulled the car off to the side, rolling up onto a curb outside a strip of buildings that appeared to get a whole lot of use. “All I’m saying is that a cookie is a kind of biscuit, right? So what the fuck sense does it make to claim that they’re all cookies?”

We’d since come to a slow stop, so confused I pivoted in my seat to look around us with a slight frown, catching sight of a bar on the very corner, a stretch of offices sat on the opposing side, and a huge block building that had long been dubbed ‘Saint Andrew’s’.

“This some sort of convent?” I wondered out loud whilst Marshall simply switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. When I glanced over at him again I found him already wearing an amused smirk, one which seemed to brighten at my words, though he just shook his head at my question. It was then that he chose to jump out. “Marsh?”

I was left with the low sound of his chuckle just as the door clicked shut behind him, leaving me in sudden silence whilst I watched the man round the front of the car. Blinking, I could only move to follow him, undoing my belt and finishing the last of the Slurpee before my door was opening all on its own. I raised a brow at Em’s gentlemanly act when I climbed out to join him on the pavement, but kept quiet about it as he shut the door behind me and locked up.

“Thanks.” I breathed out before peering around us once more, taking in the noisy street and the rowdy crowd that was gathered inside the bar a couple car lengths away. “Will you tell me where we are now though?”

“And spoil all the fun?” Marshall smirked, eyes glistening now as he backed away from the curb to start up the set of stairs leading into the big block building that had caught my eye a minute earlier. 

My face flattened, “You’re the only one having fun here.”

The grin he flashed me was cheeky and only lasted that of a split second before he was gesturing me to follow him up, tucking his hands away in his pockets when we finally reached the top step and came to a stop in front of a pair of heavy wooden doors that gave off such a retro feel. 

Staying quiet, Marshall was quick to push through them, as though he’d done it a thousand times before, slipping inside and holding the bottom plank open with just a foot so that I could join him. I wrapped my arms around myself slightly as the door stilted shut behind us, the sound echoing out. 

As I walked a little further inside, my gaze caught on the building’s lofty interior, a total contrast from both its outer disguise and what I’d first expected. It was a large lobby of sorts; four long tables were stationed in the very centre, a short stretch away from a snazzy looking bar detailed with ebony wood and warm lighting in the back, and adjacent to a set of stairs which led upwards.

I glanced back over at Em, who appeared to be watching me rather than taking in the room. I felt myself flush lightly under his gaze but quick to cover it up as I took another glance around, noting a different set of double doors sat on the other side of the room and a couple of sofas dotted around by the surrounding walls. I swallowed lightly before turning back to him, “Bit early to be drinking, no?”

It was a joke, a silly one seeing as he’d been sober for years, but one which seemed to loosen the atmosphere around us further as his mouth quirked upwards slightly and he moved to walk once more, nodding his head at me to follow. 

Follow I did, eyes catching on all sorts of details the building had to offer as he led me across the room and through the mentioned pair of doors, turning away from what appeared to be the ‘main event’ (a rather large hall decked out with a stage and a plethora of seating rows) so that he could instead jog down a hall full of metal stairs. 

The heavy door at the very bottom opened with a long squeak and although there had been people dotting the building here and there as we’d walked through, I took quick note of the small group which resided down here. There were only about six of them, from what I could first tell, the majority messing about with wires and other equipment by a platform stage whilst another two stood behind what looked to be a bar. 

My attention was ultimately caught though by the two men bickering back and forth by the side of the stage, just in front of a DJ booth.

“Fuck you, man. I’ma do what I like!” The first one spat, nose wrinkled as he swiped a microphone right from out of the other man’s hand. He was a few inches shorter than the latter but didn’t seem to mind, nor care, about that fact as he practically tiptoed to better get in the guy’s face. 

“Awh Jesus man, Soup! Why you always clownin’ around?” The second blew out, tossing the rest of the mic’s lead his way as he swatted at the air, “I mean, come on. You always tryna switch shit up when shit don’ need to be switched up!”

Soup? If that really was his name, didn’t seem to much care about his mate’s lack of excitement for whatever plans he had brewing as he fumbled with the jack lead and jumped back at him to defend himself. “I ain’t clownin’, dawg! Just trust me here on this one, this is gone bring a whole load’a new people in, D! I just know they gone be linin’ up out the door to get their hands on this stuff.”

“We ain’t sellin’ fuckin’ club merch, Soup. How many times I gotta say it?” ‘D’ retorted and shook his head as he turned his back on the other man to grab the rest of the equipment they’d obviously been unboxing.

“Yo, when have I ever been wrong ‘bout shit like this?” Soup followed up, unrelenting as he dragged the mic along with him, creating enough of a trip hazard that I worried when a young guy in a yellow cap swerved on past him. But it appeared that everyone here was far too used to the duo’s antics because the man in the cap skipped over the lead with an ease that looked utterly effortless, making it to the bar in one piece whilst the other two continued on none the wiser.

“How ‘bout every damn time?” D huffed with a look thrown over his shoulder, before he then sighed, “We stick to what we know, man. Stop houndin’ me with all this other crap.”

It was just as Soup opened his mouth to argue his case yet again that Marshall laughed from beside me, making me jump ever so as the noise rang out across the room. Heads spun in our direction then, most eyes widening at the sight of the infamous newcomer but mine were caught on the matching set of grins that Em was immediately met with when kicked off the wall he’d been leaning against, content with having watched the argument play out.

“Mickey, my man!” D hollered, dropping what he held back into the box to meet Marshall halfway. 

“Thought I told you to stop callin’ me that.” But even with the snippy retort, Em was smiling as the two of them clapped hands, sharing a short embrace before Soup wormed his way between them. 

D shook his head as he took a large step back, although the man was still grinning, eyes captured on the two friends, “Shit, man. It’s good to see you.”

Marshall just smiled before he turned to the shorter man and clapped him on the back, “How you doin’, Soup?” He let his hood fall back as he stood before the small group around us, seeming to become more alive in their presence, “Still mouthin’ off, I see.”

My own lips quirked up at that, watching the three of them from the sidelines. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that they had history, all of them sharing an easy comradery that I hadn’t much seen yet with Em since I’d first arrived, and already I was hooked on watching it all play out.

“I ain’t mouthin’ off, man. This idea’s the real deal!” Soup countered and he was smiling so wide that I could see the silver tooth that was embedded where his front left should have been over from where I stood. “Genius even! Could see it settin’ us up ‘til The Jam finally passes.”

I had no idea what the fuck ‘The Jam’ was but I had a calculating thought as to what the underground level of Saint Andrew’s supposedly was now. It was a little surreal once I’d latched onto the idea, in truth, never having figured I’d be standing in The Shelter of all places. The building was notorious on its own, having hosted a plethora of artists up in the main hall, people like Nirvana, R.E.M., The Beastie Boys, Iggy Pop, Blur, and Bob Dylan. And so I kicked myself for not having realised it sooner, the venue truly was one of the best in the city! Then again, I’d only ever really heard it iconically dubbed as The Shelter.

Marshall appeared to look back over at me then as he shook his head at Soup’s justification, grin softening ever so. I smiled back at him, gaze flickering over the expanse of his face, taking in what I could.

“Yo, come on over.” He said, voice travelling over to me without him even having to yell. The two men seemed to recognise my presence then as they turned to get a good glance at just who Em seemed to be speaking to. So, accompanied by only a little trepidation, I walked over to meet them, D eyes calculating whilst Soup’s lips pursed in an act of surprise, his eyes raking over me.

“Woo, Slim. And they claim you gotta type!” Soup all but whistled at my approach, earning a raised brow from me and a hearty backhand from his promoter friend. 

Marshall just rolled his eyes, seemingly used to it, arm stretching out to welcome me into the odd triangle they’d created, an action I allowed even as his hand came to rest on the small of my back. “Ignore Soup, he ain’t never been near a lady.” 

Blowing out an unexpected chuckle, I pressed my lips together before they eventually settled into akin to a smirk, eyes flitting over the two men. “Most would beg to differ with those pretty eyes.” I quipped, ignoring the man’s previous remark but filing it away for later.

Soup blinked at the obvious complement, seemingly dazed for a split second before he bounced back with a kilowatt grin. He looked between Marshall and D smugly, batting his eyelashes. “Y’all see?” He said, before he turned to me, “I been tellin’ ‘em, baby. But do they listen? No.”

D rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, apparently done with him as he shoved Soup hard enough for the man to stumble slightly to the side, ignoring the scowl he got in turn whilst Marshall just snorted, the hand on my back unmoving. “You really gone dropped yourself in it now.” D chuckled to him, peering over at me with a sweet smile that warmed his face whilst Soup tried to right himself, “What, Mickey didn’t warn you?”

“Mickey?” I wondered, eyes flitting between the two. I grinned when Em groaned lowly, tossing his head back a tad.

D laughed at my ask, the sound bright in the shrouded shadows of which lower levels of the building offered, “As a kid he had these giant fuckin’ ears, his momma called him it the first time she picked him up from school and well, it sorta stuck.”

“Actually?” I looked back over at Marshall with an almost adoring face, peering past the brim of his cap to get a better look at his ears, “Oh my god, I can actually see it now!”

I joined D in his snickering after, muffling my amusement slightly when Em’s eyes narrowed a tad in a playful way, his hand dropping from my lower back to pinch my furthest hip. I raised my own in a silent surrender, but his settled there. 

“Yeah, yeah. Eat it up.” The man scoffed whilst he shook his head at us, pointing an accusing finger over at D, who’d since settled a hand on his stomach to keep from bowling over, “You know I’ma have to get you back for that one.”

D merely waved the warning away, just as Soup slid on over to pipe up once more, “Ayo, you gone introduce us to yo girl then, Slim, or you just waitin’ on me to work my magic?” He asked around a smug smile, shucking the collar of his heavy jacket before he flashed me a flirty look, “Homegirl’s got a real pretty voice, too. Where you from, baby?”

Never had I ever had someone be so blatant, I was honestly unsure if he was just messing around in hopes to annoy Em or if he was actually trying his luck with me. A little wide eyed, I looked back at Marshall stumped. The man’s face had flattened a tad at Soup’s remarks but his smirk was still ever present.

“Lay off it, man.” D sighed before Marshall could say anything at all, cheek dimpling as he shook his head once more at the shorter man. 

“I’m just sayin’!” Soup proclaimed before he spun back around to face Em, “A girl that fine is gone get snatched up real quick, man.”

“Keep talkin’ and you might not keep your tongue.” Marshall responded calmly enough, though it shocked me enough to have me keeping quiet as the man stared back at Soup unblinkingly, lifting an eyebrow at him whilst his hand continued to reside at my hip.

“Oo and the claws have come out!” D cut in with a whoop, obviously humoured by it all, but his response was enough to have Marshall rolling his eyes and for another small smirk to toy at the corner of his lips.

Soup grinned as well, hands held up in a placating gesture, “You know I mean no harm, Slim.”

“Yeah, you ain’t never mean it.” Marshall shot back around a low chuckle, clucking his tongue when Soup immediately tried to argue his case, rapidly mentioning a house fire, some sort of robbery that had gone wrong and then an accidental shooting far too quickly for me to really ask anymore about it, because Em chose then to speak over him, ultimately cutting him off. “You done?”

With a huff, Soup let up. “I was just sayin’.”

D snorted, “When the hell are you not just sayin’, my man."

Marshall shook his head at the duo and wet his lower lip before he finally moved to introduce us, although it was also in that moment that his hand finally slipped away. The lack of it had me blinking. 

“Boys, this is Elia. El, this here is Soup and Drew.” Drew shot me a smile alongside a slight tilt of his chin, whilst Soup just wiggled his brow. Marshall continued on with a swift jab to the latter’s abdomen, ignoring the slight squark given, “Known these guys since middle school.”

I tried to add up the age in my head, forever baffled by the difference in education here to that back home. Em must have realised it too, because his next smile was wry and knowing.

“‘Bout ten, if I had to guess.” He mentioned just to settle the matter for me, before he looked back at D and Soup to explain, “Girl’s from London, they do shit different over there.”

I rolled my eyes, though my smile gave away to the fact that he’d amused me with his explanation. Drew nodded in understanding whilst Soup– well, he was Soup, “Oh shit! I thought all them talked real classy.”

My brow rose all on its own, “This your way of saying I’m not classy?”

His eyes grew huge as he realised his mistake, stuttering to correct himself and stumbling ever so to be sure of it, “Nah, no! What? I jus’– I meant it like–” He spluttered before he finally landed on, “I said you had a real pretty voice!”

Snorting, I let myself smile which appeared to ease the man’s evident worry over having offended me and had the remaining two snickering between themselves. He shot the pair of them a scathing look and elbowed Drew, who in return just laughed that little bit harder.

“Shut it.”

I almost felt bad. Peering back over at Soup, I eventually spoke, “You’re all good. I was just teasing.”

“Teasin’.” Soup seemed to linger on the word, twirling it over his tongue and around his mouth as he muttered the word over again, lower lip turning itself out in thought. “Dope.”

Marshall shook his head with a huff before his eyes eventually landed on me once more, I widened my own in jest, but the wordless moment was cut short by D. “Aye, you ain’t the same Elia that sung Sinnerman are you?”

My head jolted back ever so slightly in surprise. Sinnerman had been an early days cover, one from when I’d been busking in pubs way back when and of the few that had been filmed on a shaky camcorder and uploaded to the internet by some random patron. I hadn’t thought of the video in well over a decade, but remembered it had managed to gather a large enough viewing at some point that it had dragged more people into the pub to see me.

Fishmouthing slightly, I nodded just the once. “Yeah. God, yeah. Wow, you saw that?”

Marshall’s brow had since furrowed, watching the conversation play out between us just as Drew’s face brightened considerably. “Hell yeah I saw that! That shit was cold, girl. Remembered hearin’ your voice and thinkin’ 'she’s gone make it someday.” He told me, making me flush a tad at the praise, “‘n I was right.” He continued on, nudging his chin over in my direction with a thoughtful smile, “Knew I recognised you from somewhere. Saw one of your shows when I was last in LA, couple years back now though.”

I actually giggled at that, fingers jumping up to cover my mouth whilst I shook my head slightly, “That’s insane.”

“Hold up,” Soup interrupted, a bemused look marring his face, “So you famous too? You ‘member how I just said you was fine, yeah?”

“Soup, man.” Marshall warned around a put upon sigh.

“I’m jus–”

“Just sayin’. Yeah, we know.” Drew finished for him, smirking as he rolled his brown eyes.

Chuckling, I went a little easy on the former, “I’ll make sure to remember.”

Soup perked up at that, tossing the other two a prideful look, whilst Em’s gaze turned Heavenwards. 

It was then that Drew turned to pick up the equipment he’d since dropped, the three of us following him as he spoke, “So what you doin’ down in these parts anyway? Figured you’d be workin’ or some shit ‘cause last we saw you was way back in December.” He threw a couple of cables Soup’s way, huffing out a soft chuckle when the man fumbled to catch them, earning himself a glare he didn’t respond to. “Made a fuckton of sales then though. Got me thinkin’ maybe you should show your face ‘round here more often. We all know those magazines don’t want it no more.”

Marshall flipped him off but came to a stand beside him, reaching inside the box to help out. “Still as unfunny as ever, D.” He replied, handing me a couple of packs to hold onto whilst he grabbed a few more, “Was showin’ Ms. London over there the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d stop in to see how you two knuckleheads were doin’ without me.”

“Hey we survived this long!” Soup exclaimed to him around a laugh, struggling with a mic stand he’d since dragged up onto the stage.

“Don’t I know it.” Drew murmured in a funny sort of self-suffering way that made me grin, “You take her to Cow’s head?”

The question had Marshall rolling his eyes as the man sorted through the packs he’d gathered, me aiding with the process whilst I listened. “Shithole’s gone be there longer than I ever will be, figured I’d have time.”

D blew out a chuckle, “Ain’t that the truth.”

“Red.” I mentioned, handing back the pack Marshall had attempted to give me, fingers brushing over the back of his as he dipped his chin in a show of acknowledgement. “What’s the Cow’s head anyway?”

“Old ice-cream stand on Mack. Used to use it during drivebys or to just deal. You remember Jimmy? He still works that corner.” Drew explained, aiming that last bit over at Em, which ended up making the man chuckle around a small tutting sound. D continued on though, for my supposed benefit, “But mostly it was just a place people got caught hookin’ up behind.”

Feeling bold, I was quick to quip, “And I paint you as that type of girl, do I, D?”

Widening my stare up at the man when his head darted backwards with a shuttered expression, Marshall could only snicker beside me. “Awh, come on, be nice.” He said, though his smile was jeering, “I tell you, Drew’s a real feminist.”

Sharing a smile with him, I was quick to look back at the man in question, who in turn merely tossed another pack at Em, who narrowly avoided it hitting him upside the head. “Asshole.” Drew sniped, “A guy dates one vegan chick and a brother never lets him live it down.”

“It weren’t ‘cause she didn’t like meat, man!” Soup added his two cents in, smile smug as he propped himself up on the mic stand, “It was ‘cause she didn’t - like - meat!”

Marshall’s loud laugh had me looking up, instantly invested in watching the way his eyes closed with the action and how his cheeks then appled. He caught me watching him when he lowered his head and rolled his eyes fondly at his friend, figuring I’d only been staring because I hadn’t caught onto Soup’s joke, “Next person she dated was this vampy chick who worked at Chilly's.”

My mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape before I was tittering away too, much to Drew’s obvious displeasure, the man waved the three of us away with a lazy hand before he carried on hooking up a couple mics.

It continued on that way for a short while, me listening to the trios odd stories and funny tales from their youth whilst Drew and Soup grew comfortable enough to ask me a little more about myself. Though both of them were wholly invested in the story of how Marshall and I met, Soup latching onto it before I could think about where the explanation might lead.

“Come on then, woman.” The man was quick to start, jerking his head at me in a sudden rush of enthusiasm as he jumped past the DJ booth, “Let’s see what you’re made of.”

My forehead pinched in confusion as I pushed myself up from where I’d been crouching down by an amp. It was an older model and the fuse at the back really needed to be resoldered, but it would work for a while longer. I looked over at the man and his newfound excitement, brows furrowing further, “What?”

Soup just waved me over though to where he was now centred midstage. “You heard me, get yo ass up here!”

I could only look to Em then and when he didn’t offer me anything other than an amused shrug, cheek twitching, I turned to Drew.

The tall man simply raised his hands before he shrugged too, smiling ever so sweetly. “Need to mic check anyway,” He mentioned, jutting his chin over to where Soup continued to stand, “I propose a battle.”

“Hell yeah, man!” Soup hollered loudly, already moving to grab a set of mics from the front panel, sending an audible squeak through the room that had most of its occupants wincing. 

“Not happening.” I quickly shot down, shaking my head as I moved away from the amp– and therefore the stage. 

“Why, you scared?” Soup prodded mockingly, earning a low ‘ooh’ from both Marshall and Drew. 

“Terrified.” Came my deadened retort, before I chewed at the inside of my cheek, gaze flitting back and forth between Soup and the duo perched by the side of the deck. “There’s no way I’m doing it.” I added, furthering my previous answer.

“Don’t have to be long. A minute max.” Drew assured me, already moving to work the amp that the mics were connected to. My eyes widened at the move, flicking back to Em in one final plea.

“Don’t look at me.” The older man laughed, his blue eyes shining. “I already done did my time here.”

Way to rub it in, I thought to myself before looking towards the stage with a pinched expression. 

One final glance between the three men and I knew I couldn’t say no, not without a fight at the very least, so I let go of the heavy breath I was holding and took a big step up onto the stage’s panelling, holding out a hand to Soup for the remaining microphone. “Don’t say I never did nothing.” I heard myself say, earning a round of chuckles just as D finished setting up and Soup started to stretch theatrically. “I hate you all.”

“El-i-a.” Marshall started up and immediately my head snapped over to find him stood by the front of the stage, hands circling his mouth. “El-i-a!” He chanted again right as a steady beat came through the overhead speakers. I felt my stomach flip and was quick to shoot the man a scathing glare, not that Em minded it, continuing to grin up at me. Smug as could be.

It was that, I supposed, which had me forcing back the bile that was now building, enough to try and shake the nerves away too. I could do it, I breathed in deeply, it was just a little fun. Nothing unlike what Danny and I used to do as kids, making breakfast whilst mum was dead asleep in the next room or off getting high someplace else.

“You ready, Limey?” Soup snarked, but it only proved to further stoke that fire that had started. 

“You first.” 

Soup dipped his head before he started bouncing it to the rhythm, torso soon following it. I tensed as I waited for his first line, sole focus on the man stood across from me and wondering how the fuck people did this in front of such a huge crowd. All I could do was pray that I didn’t embarrass myself too much.

“See, this here is a little white girl, 

Who’s momma told her she could have the whole wide-world,

But just ‘cause she got Slim wrapped ‘round her fin-ger,

Don’t mean that my boy’s ever gonna ring her,

He’s a wraith, yeah, which means he never ling-ers,

Have her sleepin’ in his bed ‘fore he finds another singer.

And that’s not on me clownin’ girl, I’ve seen it,

He’ll wrap and tap, and then he’ll jus’ go ‘n leave it,

You cute and all but you ain’t nothin’ spec-ial,

We all know white girls ain’t on a brother’s lev-el,

So while you thinkin’ you out here makin’ it big,

Jus’ remember who’s runnin’ this motherfuckin’ gig.”

Pursing my lips to keep from grinning too broadly– an act to keep up the facade that this was a very real battle and that his words had actually stung me– I then booed the performance whilst the rest of the room applauded, a few laughs and cheers echoing out around us. “Alright, I see. That’s how it’s gonna be.”

Soup shrugged cooly, though his smile was wide and teasing. “I went easy on you, girl.”

I hummed disbelievingly, then looked over my shoulder at Drew, who nodded in understanding, moving to continue the beat. I sucked in a small breath and attempted to feel the rhythm, the way it pulsed beneath my feet and how it seemed to jump between my ribs. 

It was a split second decision I made to glance over at Marshall in the next moment which came and although he stood surly, arms crossed over his chest whilst he waited for me to start, his eyes were watching, anticipating. Between us we’d yet to work on any real music and so I figured this could be my shot to show him what I was really made of.

I inhaled.

“Man, you know for a rapper I think you’re missing one restriction,

The same type they tell kids is in the terms ‘n conditions, 

When they try and ride the big boy rides at the theme park, 

Only to find out that they went and fucking missed the mark.

I mean, I guess you’re kinda cute for a– short guy,

But kings are made, baby, so I won’t spin you a lie,

‘Bout how it’s okay to only miss a couple inches,

‘Cause it's one thing height wise, but your dick looks like the Grinches.

And I know I should probably stop before I hurt your ego,

But with a name like Soup that ships since sailed, amigo,

Like I can’t help but wonder who’d your mother hate more?

You, or that motherfucking grocery store.”

A loud chorus of applause went up as soon as the beat dropped, leaving me looking back at Soup’s slack jaw in the stooped light. It was only when Drew whooped right by my ear that I realised he’d jumped past the booth to drag both Soup and I into his hold, shaking our shoulders hard enough to rattle the pair of us. 

I let the mic slip slightly in my hold, arm dropping to my side as I casted a slow glance out at the audience, finding that a few more people had slipped into the room since we’d started the stupid battle. My chest tightened a little at the realisation but it was easy to let go of the anxiety when Drew was all but bouncing beside me.

“Damn, girl! That was cold, honestly thought Soup would have you there.” D grinned, looking down at me whilst Soup managed to release himself from the taller man’s hold. “You did anything like this before?” He asked and I had to shake my head.

“Hang on. You just butchered and served me up on a plate, ‘n now you gone deny not ever battlin’ before?” Soup spluttered, eyes wide as dinner plates, enough though to match his growing grin, “Woman, you don’t expect me to really believe you.”

Laughing, I tried to rally, but it was then that another body joined the masses, sliding in beside me. It was their appearance that had Drew’s arm loosening its hold on me. 

“She ain’t lyin’. I’ve heard her spit a little before, I won’t deny it, but that was some next level shit.” Marshall commented, absorbing all of my attention. “You went in hard.” He laughed incredulously, eyes roaming over me as though he was taking me in again in a whole other way. I felt my cheeks heat but couldn't decide whether or not it was down to the sudden attention we’d garnered or just him. 

“Hard?” Drew cut in, “Girl killed him!”

Soup shoved him as payback but it wasn’t enough to really trip the man. “I said I went easy!”

D hummed sarcastically, dragging it out long enough to earn himself another hearty shove before he then chuckled, “Face it, Soup. You got yo short ass handed to you.”

“Sorry, man.” Marshall stepped in before it could escalate and it was then he draped his arm over my shoulders, drawing me in enough to have me leaning against his side. “D ain’t wrong. Best hope no one breathes a word, otherwise you gone be fighting for your life in the next battle.”

I rolled my eyes at the sudden dramatics, and again when Soup’s expression troubled slightly, I shook my head. “I’m gonna say it again, I hate all of you.”

The words earned me a few laughs and the feel of Em’s chin coming to rest atop my head.

–

The drive back was made up of a dull buzzing tension, most of which emanated from me, seeing as I was still riding out the waves of anxiety I’d experienced throughout the battle and then after. I’d gotten a few nods of approval once I’d stepped off the stage under Em’s arm, Soup still echoing his previous sentiment of having gone easy on the new girl, and then a couple people's praises when Marshall had finally decided to head on out, claiming that we had places to be. 

So he’d said his goodbyes to his longtime friends, with both Soup and Drew managing to worm their way into my followers list on Twitter and having put their numbers in my phone. They’d claimed it was so I always knew that I had a place to come visit if I ever found myself back in Detroit and so I echoed the notion, saying that they could have tickets to any show they liked and a tour of London if they ever made the trip. Something which had seemed to please Marshall, seeing as his smile stuck all the way back up to the car. 

“I still can’t believe I did that.” I breathed once we were a little way away, The Shelter less than a dot behind us in the rearview mirror. 

Marshall blew out a small chuckle, “Why not?”

Shrugging, I found that I didn’t really have an obvious answer to his question. “I don’t know, just not my thing, you know? Like I never pictured myself doing anything like that.”

He made a short hum in retort, “I get that. Still, it was a sight to see.” He snickered after, mouth lifting into what I’d label a sarky smile, “Doubt Soup will live it down for a while.”

I winced before eventually laughing too, thinking back on the entire experience. “They’re good guys, real nice. It’s been a while since I really had fun like that.”

Marshall’s head turned to look over at me, eyes lingering on mine. “Me too.”

The smile that took over my face truly was unavoidable and so I looked towards the passenger window in hopes to shield him from it. “You do that often then?” I asked once a half a dozen shop fronts had passed us by, “Drag people down there in hopes they’ll destroy what’s left of Soup’s reputation.” I added teasingly when all he’d done was gift me a look of vague confusion. 

The skin between his brows slackened in understanding before he then shook his head, “Nah, reckon you’re the first.”

I blinked slowly at that revelation. “But you said–”

Marshall glanced over at me but was quick to hone his focus back on the road. “Know what I said. Also mentioned that it never worked out, remember?”

I did, remember that is. And immediately thought back to the earlier conversation we’d shared on the car ride over to his old home and how the people he’d let in never seemed to get why all this mattered so much. “Was that what Soup was on about then? When he claimed people thought you had a type.”

Em had to think back on that one and was quiet for a second or two before he worked his jaw. I wondered if he was reminded of the fact that once again he’d failed to mention that I wasn't in fact his girl. I didn’t ask about it.

“Nah, I guess that’s down to them havin’ met a couple of the women I’ve dated.” Marshall evaded slightly, confusing me enough to prod.

“What do you mean?”

He was silent for a long moment, but I allowed him it, figuring that whether he answered or not would be down to him. I wasn’t the type to force shit out of a person. 

“After Kim,” He started slowly, already assuming that I knew most of it, which wasn’t incorrect, if you listened to the guy’s music then you probably knew more than needed. “Lot of the girls I was seeing were fling type shit. Superficial, you know? A couple models, other famous people wantin’ to hop on the wagon. Tried to date a few women who weren’t immersed in that lifestyle after rehab and my divorce, but it didn’t work out the way I’d hoped.”

I chewed on my inner cheek, pondering over the string of women who had been welcomed into Marshall’s life. Still stuck on the thought that Soup reckoned I was different to them just from looking at me. ‘Cause see, I knew I was probably overthinking this but I wasn’t horrible looking, had to be at least a little attractive to sell albums with my face on, but I was far from being that of a model. That much I knew. In truth, I didn’t even know why I was so hung up on the thought, me and Em were just friends, that was all.

“Still, I figured that maybe Kim just fucked all that up for me. Hard to trust, to let people in. ‘Sposed it was easier just havin’ people leave before they could fuck me up any further.” Marshall explained, none the wiser to my thoughts as he drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel, “Drew and Soup, they’ve been ‘round for a long while, before Dre, ‘fore I ever even thought too hard about rappin’. They saw me through it all. I guess when you came over they kind of figured that shit had to be different, I ain’t never brought no one ‘round here to them, let alone a girl they’d never met.”

I ran my tongue over my lower lip as I listened, it wasn’t a complete answer to my question— why Soup had figured Marshall had a type and me being far from it— but it was him opening up and I wasn’t about to spit in his face and get all prickly over it.

“Should I feel a sense of privilege then?” I found myself poking fun at him instead, an effort to get away from the handful of ideas that had started to plague my mind. “‘Cause I feel like I should.”

Em laughed, the gesture light, easy. It felt like the visit to Saint Andrew’s had done us both some good. “Fuckin’ right. Shelter alone is somethin’ I don’t visit all that often. D and Soup are just an added nuisance, I guess.”

“Shut up.” I chuckled in return, shaking my head at his words, knowing just how much bullshit they held after having witnessed the relationship the three of them shared. “You love ‘em.”

With a grunt, Marshall then shrugged around a quiet smirk. “Come on, today’s been all about me, I’m sick of it. Don’t tell me you ain’t got no mad stories about a couple crappy exes.”

It was an invite as well as a dip into a pool of unasked questions, a topic where Em didn’t seem too keen on overstepping. But he was right, he’d given me a lot today and that meant something.

“I don’t know what to say really.” I answered him with a subtle shrug, “Never really had an ex.”

Marshall almost came to a full stop with the way his foot stuttered over the brake. The action would have earned us a lot of loud beeps, maybe even a small collision if we hadn’t been the only ones driving down this particular side road.

“Shit, Marshall! What the fuck?” I exclaimed in one fluid breath, releasing my hold on the car door I’d gone and grabbed onto in my haste to stop my body from propelling forward into the dash. I fixed him with a wide eyed stare, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Why’d I do that? Why’d you say that?” He countered, as if he was making any sense at all. 

“Say what!” I asked him, voice shrill and still a decibel too high after the sudden scare, but Marshall appeared mostly unphased by it, having started driving again despite everything. 

He scoffed, “That someone as pretty as you don’t have no exes.” 

I paused, noting that the way my heart stuttered was very similar to the way the car had, suddenly and then all at once. But although I was surprised by the compliment, I forced myself to relax a tad, ignoring how my pulse jumped rapidly in my throat– down to the scare or his words I wouldn’t ever know. 

“I don’t.” I told him point blank, hoping that the heat I felt in my face was just that and not me blushing. “I mean, I've had little flings and the odd date, but nothing like— I don’t know, nothing too real or long lasting.” Describing that fact was more than a little embarrassing, I wouldn’t lie, it always made me feel less than in a strange way. 

“There ain’t no way.” Marshall continued on, unknowingly driving that particular wedge in further I supposed. “There’s gotta be somebody.”

I sighed. “No. But if you want a story, the last person I was seeing was this singer, we worked together on my last album, flirted, fucked and then went on a couple dates. He stayed with me in London for a while but ended up sleeping with one of my close friends on my sofa, so, you know.”

I let go of the rest of breath I’d been holding onto then, shoulders slumping a little with it, before I suddenly remembered the next part to that particular tale. 

“Oh! And he also decided to dedicate the whole B side of his next album to it. Can you believe that? The B side, Marshall. I mean fair enough, write about an experience and what fucking not, but the B side? That’s just kicking a person whilst they’re already down, no?” I added, shaking my head in hopes to get rid of the memory, but no such luck. “He was the one who did that film too, um— I can’t for the life of me remember the name of it, but when they won that Academy award last year he mentioned me as the ‘one who got away’ and then thanked me for being the reason he was able to channel so much of his ability into the character.”

I actually had to laugh at the reminder, having been utterly fuming when the whole thing had gone down. But I guessed that enough time had passed since then that I only questioned the very decision I’d made to have let that arsehole and his tiny dick anywhere near me whenever his name was mentioned. 

“Shit’s messed up.” Em blew out, eyes alert and flitting back and forth between me and the road.

Snorting in reply to that, I couldn’t help but shoot him a wry grin. “No shit. But yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never really let anyone get too close, I ‘spose. Just easier to keep people at arm's length than give them the chance to hurt me.”

“Damn,” Marshall said, “talk about daddy issues.”

Surprised by his words, a laugh bubbled up out of me, “Like you’re one to talk.”

Em’s lips pursed in an attempt to dim his amusement to that, turning the wheel with a single motion and letting it drag back over his palm when we turned onto the next street. “Still. It’s hard to believe.”

I gave a soft chuckle in reply, letting my head loll against the headrest so that I could bat my lashes in his direction, “Why, ‘cause I’m so pretty?” I teased him, recalling his earlier statement.

Marshall’s head shake was slight but visible, as was the tiny curve his mouth made.

I reached out to poke his shoulder, smirking now. “Come on, say it again.”

He swatted my hand away before I could continue on with my fun, “Anyone ever tell you you’re also annoyin’ as fuck?”

“Yes.” I replied easily enough, “No one’s ever called me pretty though.”

“Liar.”

I laughed, the bright sound filling up the car. “Yeah, but at least I’m pretty too.” He went to open his mouth after I said that but I beat him to the jump, “Can’t take it back now you’ve already said it!”

Tutting, Marshall had to shake his head again, eyes flitting over to my wide smile, trailing the length of it. “Such a shithead.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“What are you, two?”

“Maybe.” I shot back, pointing over at him. “What’s that make you then, if I’m two and you think I’m pretty?”

Marshall caught my finger with his free hand in retaliation and clung to it as he resettled his arm back in his lap, “Fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Least I’m not a creep.”

“Asshole.” 

“Dickhead.”

“Bitch.” He quipped, eyes gleaming as they darted over to meet mine.

I shook my head in hopes to hide my growing grin, but it was then that I instantly perked up, gaze catching on the large allotment sat up ahead. “Oh, let’s go there!”

“What, to Trader Joe's?” Marshall voiced his confusion at the sudden switch in topic, though his expression was much softer than I had expected in the face of my excitement when I peered back around to look over at him.

“Yeah, can we?” I pushed, an idea now blossoming. “I wanna get some ingredients, bake something nice before Rosie gets home.”

Lifting a single brow, Marshall’s eyes flickered rapidly between my own for a split second. He was quiet before he eventually flipped his indicator to switch lanes, “You gone bake me a cake just ‘cause I called you pretty?”

A full blown grin broke out on my face at that and it was too hard to hide this one from Marshall, seeing as I’d been looking right at him. “No, ‘cause you’re gonna help me.”