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hungermakesmonsters · 3 days ago

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The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake.

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk.

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations.

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor.

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club.

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you. He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer.

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame.

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?”

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do.

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?”

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again.

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?”

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?”

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?”

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe.

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him.

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again.

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt.

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #trr ff

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nneteyamss · 1 day ago

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ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

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y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

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previous — masterlist — next

taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

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tillsfan · 2 days ago

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a dive into Till’s feelings regarding Ivan and Mizi!

ivantill’s whole thing is being INSANELY complicated. i am a full on believer that they have mutual (unrealized) feelings, but i think the word “love” is definitely too vague to properly describe what they have. vivinos said a “deep LOVE/HATE” relationship for a reason.

i think till both genuinely feeling love for ivan yet hating him at the same time is absolutely reasonable. ivan has pushed and pulled till his whole life. till never felt secure near ivan, as much as he cares about him. but, ivan was always there. till felt comfort with ivan’s presence despite the lack of security he gave. till heavily valued ivan’s opinion, getting upset when ivan implied he didn’t see till as a friend. he trusted ivan enough to attempt to run away with him, and he potentially would have spent the rest of his life with ivan if they actually escaped.

i while love mutual love ivantill as much as the next guy, saying their feelings were 100% romantic is wrong. their emotions towards one another being so raw is something that defines them, which is why it’s difficult to put their mutual feelings into a specific box.

another thing we need to take into account is that neither of them know what love really is. they inhabit a world that isn’t MEANT for humans to love. they were never taught what love is and how to feel it. this is part of the reason they could never develop properly. they live in a world where the concept of romance and relationships aren’t properly established between humans.

but, i do believe like they could’ve had a chance under different circumstances. they were a slowburn that was never able to properly develop because, again, they lived in a world that didn’t allow them to, and they both ruined things for themselves. ivan had a huge tendency to self sabotage because of his severely low self esteem. he convinced himself that his feelings were shallow, and projected that onto till through his actions, confusing and distressing the latter. in addition, till was avoidant of the reality in front of him, ivan. due to till feeling such a lack of security with ivan, and never being able to understand ivan, he avoided intimacy with him altogether. till also just has a fear of intimacy in general. there was a significant amount of miscommunication between both parties.

in addition, saying that till didn’t love mizi is just. false. he dedicated all of his life to her, she was literally his muse. he loved her in his own way, even if he had to put her on a pedestal to do so. yes, he didn’t know anything about her as a person, but that doesn’t mean his feelings weren’t real. saying he never truly loved her undermines so much of his character.

mizi was till’s coping mechanism, yes. he adored her from a distance. he liked the idea of her and not her as an individual, but that doesn’t make his feelings any less real. he loved and cared for her. we saw how torn he was after mizi disappeared in round 5. he almost DIED because of his grief, before ivan ‘saved’ him. his feelings towards her were as authentic as they could be for someone who kept everyone at a distance.

while you could say till’s love for mizi isn’t inherently romantic, the same can be said for ivantill. nothing stated in the patreon confirmed what EXACTLY till felt towards mizi besides her being a fantastical figure to him. and his “love” towards ivan doesn’t HAVE to be romantic (even though i believe it is), it could very much be platonic. vivinos is purposefully vague with what kind of love each character feels because, as i said, feelings aren’t something that can be properly established in this universe.

hope u guys enjoyed my rant Yay 🌹

#alnst #alien stage #alnst analysis #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alien stage mizi #ivantill

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annebd · 1 day ago

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winter warmers, day 17: public sex/hot cocoa ~2700 words. this fic is based loosely off the pics and my tags on this post.

“Final grades are already submitted, mate. The time for bribery has come and gone.”

“Very funny, Daniel.” Max places the cup of hot cocoa on Daniel’s desk. A little bit of the whipped cream has sputtered out of the hole at the top. He swipes at it and licks the foam off his finger. He watches Daniel watching him. “Extra whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon, like you like it. And anyway, it’s not a bribe because you are not my teacher anymore. That’s the point."

Max slouches off his backpack and dumps it in a heap on the floor in front of the threadbare armchair next to Daniel’s desk. He throws off his jacket, too- slings it over the back of the chair- before slumping to sit, his legs spread wide. He’s spent the better part of the semester in this exact position, big blue eyes staring raptly at Daniel across the desk, counting down the minutes until this moment. Now it’s Daniel’s turn to stare.

“Max…” he warns.

The door to Daniel’s tiny, cramped office is wide open, but it’s quiet. It’s late into the evening on the last day of the semester. The university is almost entirely deserted by now. All of the students abandoned campus the moment they finished their last exams over the week, and the professors have all gone home for the day, leaving their TAs to put together the final touches on grading for the end of the semester.

Daniel’s office is at the end of a long corridor in the dingy, mostly unused section of the English department. There’s a janitor’s closet next door that contains nothing more than a single mop and a broken plastic bucket. The empty office across the hall has a bigger desk than his and an actually functioning window, but when Daniel asked if he could move over there instead, his advisor had thrown around words like “seniority” and “tenure” and “paying his dues.” So he’s been stuck in this shoe closet for the past two years, while a perfectly good office lies empty just a few steps away. He likes to complain to Max about it when he’s feeling particularly resentful about some university bullshit or other. Max just likes to listen to him talk.

The office is, as usual, empty. As is the janitor’s closet. As is every other office or storage room down the hallway, all the way to the elevator bank, where the lone lightbulb is flickering intermittently, casting dancing shadows along the wall. They’re alone in the building for now. No one else is around.

Max tells Daniel this.

“No one else, huh?” Daniel leans back in his own chair, matches Max’s slouching posture. He takes a sip of the cocoa. Savors it. Takes another. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with that information?”

“You know what, Daniel. You are not my teacher anymore. This stupid class is over. No more Beowulf, thank god. And now I can have you. You said.”

“You can have me?” Daniel cuts himself off. “Jesus, Max. That’s definitely one way to phrase it.”

“Always you and your phrasing. I still am upset about when you took points off my essay for that, by the way.”

Daniel laughs.

Max doesn’t. He glances at the open door, which offers a clear view down the hallway. Still empty. Not so much as a faint footstep click-clacking in the distance.

He stands and turns Daniel’s swivel chair outwards a little so that he has enough space to kneel down in front of him.   “Max,” Daniel warns him again, but his voice is softer this time. He’s not protesting. He’s looking down at Max, who’s already sliding his hands up and down the soft, worn denim encasing Daniel’s thighs.

“You have to say yes. You already said we could, but you have to say you want this now.” Max sits back onto his heels, and immediately feels colder being even six inches further away from Daniel. “Will you say yes, for me? Say that I can have you?”

Daniel runs a hand across his stubbled cheek, lets it cover his mouth for a moment. Max watches the light catch on his gold rings and dance across the wall. Daniel pulls off his glasses (an affectation, he’d once told Max. His prescription is so weak that he can get by fine without them, but they help sell the look. PhD student in English Lit, rather than tatted bogan) and looks at Max with wide eyes. Max looks back.

“Yes,” he says. “All right? I’m saying yes. You can have me.”

“Okay,” Max agrees and pushes Daniel’s grey sweater up so that he can lean in and suck a bruise into the center of his chest. He pulls back to look at it. His own mark on Daniel’s skin. Daniel has told him about some of his tattoos, and he’s seen some, of course, but he knows that there are others yet to be discovered. He’ll find every last one with his eyes and then his tongue. For now, he’ll add a few more of his own.

Daniel groans when Max sets his teeth against Daniel’s nipple. “Fuck, babe. Not even a kiss first? Right to the nipple play, huh?”

Max pulls back. Daniel’s right: they should kiss. He lets the sweater fall out of his hands and pulls Daniel by the back of the knees so that he slides lower in the chair. Max pushes into the space between Daniel’s spread legs so that they’re chest to chest.

Daniel looks soft like this, vulnerable, as he looks up to where Max hovers slightly taller than him. Max is used to Daniel taking up so much space: big laugh, big personality, big hair. But here, underneath Max’s hands, he’s small. His baggy sweaters hide a narrow waist, tapering to bony hips- delicate wrists extending to long, nail-bitten fingers. Max wants to cover him completely, hide him from the world, keep him for himself. That wouldn’t be fair, though. The world would be so much smaller without Daniel in it.

He cups his hand around Daniel’s cheek, his beard prickling ticklishly against Max’s palm.

“Hi,” Daniel says, quietly.

“Hello, Daniel,” Max says and then leans in for a kiss. It’s softer than he’s expecting, given the stubble situation. Daniel’s lips are warm against his, and they press together for just a moment before Max pulls away to look at him. He never gets tired of looking at Daniel.

He moves back in, harder this time, Daniel’s mouth opening for his, and he licks his way inside. He sucks on Daniel’s tongue, where the taste of cocoa and cinnamon is still lingering. Daniel kisses back- biting, bruising kisses that send a shock of pleasure direct to Max’s cock. He could spend hours here, days, years, just feeling the pressure of Daniel’s mouth on his.

But he has plans that extend beyond just a few heated kisses.

He has wanted this since the very first day of the semester, when he walked into that stupid Brit Lit classroom with his stupid copy of Beowulf and saw the hottest person he’s ever seen in his life sitting cross legged on the desk upfront, waving him in and telling him to grab a seat, that they’re just getting started.

He’d sat in the closest seat to the front, dead center, and spent the next three months contributing minimally to the in-class discussions that Daniel led, and instead, daydreamed about bending him over the lectern and fucking him until he cried. He did fine on exams, wrote marginally passable essays (phrasing issues aside), but couldn’t be bothered to contribute to the inanity of the conversations around him when he could spend that time imagining the taste of Daniel’s golden honey skin if he licked him all the way from his collarbone to his cock.

Soon enough, he’d started showing up to Daniel’s office hours twice a week, and then inviting himself to sit in the office whenever he knew Daniel would be there. He’d plop himself in the armchair and tap away at his homework for other classes (“the ones that matter, Daniel”) while Daniel worked on grading essays and occasionally tapped away at the doc that will eventually become his thesis.

And in that time, Max’s fantasies turned from the desk in the lecture hall to the desk right here in this cramped office. He’s spent many an afternoon sitting in the ratty armchair and watching Daniel work, while picturing doing exactly what he’s doing now: pressing his lips against Daniel’s and sliding his hand underneath his sweater to pinch a nipple, drawing out a low moan.

Daniel had always said no. Not until the semester was over; not while he was still in a position of power over Max.

And now they’re here. The semester is done, Daniel is no longer his TA, and Max can live out every last one of his fantasies.

Without breaking the kiss, he grabs Daniel around the waist and levers him up and out of the chair so that he can spin him around to sit on the edge of his desk. He leans around Daniel’s side to close the lid of his laptop and set it on the chair, which frees up the space he needs to lay him out flat on his back and start pulling at his clothes.

“Off,” he says, and shoves the hem of the sweater up so that Daniel will remove it completely. He reaches down to take off Daniel’s boots and then unzips his jeans and pulls them off. Between the two of them it’s quick work until Daniel is naked, save for his socks and the gold chain around his neck. He’s on his back with his ass at the edge of the desk and his thighs already falling open for Max to fit perfectly between.

Max takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. Daniel’s tan is still a perfect golden, even now in the startling cold of mid-December. He’s lithe, deceptively muscled for how slender he is, further camouflaged by the baggy sweaters and hoodies he’s usually draped in. But like this, all of him on full display for Max’s pleasure, he’s a perfect specimen of toned muscle.

There are more tattoos even than Max expected- his thighs especially are a quilt of color. Max ignores them for now. There will be plenty of time for them to become more intimately acquainted later. For now, Max has other issues to attend to- like licking that stripe across Daniel’s torso. Collarbone to cock, and then back again.

He must stare for a hair too long, because Daniel starts to curl in on himself, shy in a way that Max has never seen him before. That can’t stand. Max leans down to kiss him again, pressing his hardening cock, still trapped inside his jeans, against Daniel’s, which forces his legs wide again. He wraps them around Max’s back and tugs him in closer.

They kiss lazily for a while until Max is so hard that the press of his cock against his zipper is a physical ache. He unzips and pulls himself out, immediately thrusting into the hollow where Daniel’s hip meets his thigh, precome slicking the way.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says, no beating around the bush.

He makes quick work of sliding on a condom and then slicking his cock and Daniel’s hole with a tiny packet of lube, both of which he’d tucked into his pocket earlier this evening.

He pushes in and feels the warmth of Daniel surrounding his cock. Daniel’s eyes widen and he gasps when Max bottoms out. He’s not huge, but his cock is thick, and he can feel Daniel’s hole fluttering around him to accommodate his girth. He moves slowly, letting him get used to the stretch.

“Fuck, Max,” Daniel chokes out as Max thrusts in to the hilt again. “More, please.”

“So polite for me. Of course, Daniel. I’ll give you everything you want.” And he does. For long minutes, he focuses on nothing more than the connection between their bodies, Daniel’s entirely naked and Max’s still fully clothed. He’s insane with the sensation, the knowledge that Daniel is giving himself over to Max so completely, letting Max take care of him.

He’s on the verge of coming when Max feels Daniel still beneath him for a moment, his gaze focused over Max’s shoulder. “Max, the door.”

“Yes. It’s still open. Anyone could walk past and see us. They could see you all spread out for me. For my cock. They could hear you, too, of course. Because you’re being very loud with your moans, Daniel.” He pushes in deep, makes sure to stroke firmly across Daniel’s prostate. He waits for him to moan and then does it again. “Just like that.”

Daniel shudders and clenches down around Max’s cock. It’s Max’s turn to moan out loud. He can feel Daniel starting to tremble beneath him. He reaches for Daniel’s cock and starts jerking him roughly.

“Now, Daniel,” he says. “Come for me now. Please.”

Daniel closes his eyes and pulls Max down over him, presses their mouths together. He licks across Max’s teeth as he comes. Max follows immediately behind, filling the condom and wishing they could do this bare. Imagines the feeling of filling Daniel instead, spurting deep inside him. He groans again as his hips kick up reflexively. He adds that to the mental tally for next time. There will absolutely need to be a next time.

They take their time cleaning up. Max grabbed a stack of napkins when he brought Daniel’s hot cocoa earlier. They don’t make for the most glamorous post-fuck clean up, but they’ll do.

When their clothes are back in place and they look mostly presentable again, Max tugs teasingly at the chain around Daniel’s neck, pulls him in for a kiss.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Daniel tells him softly.

Then, he grins big for a second. “Oh, and for the cocoa, too. Delish, mate.”

Max just rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome. For both. Now, come. I need to take you home and fuck you some more. On a big bed, where I can take my time.”

He waits for Daniel to gather his things and turn out the lights in the office. He’ll finish his last bit of grading over the weekend, he tells Max.

They walk down the hall to the elevator, Max with one hand wrapped around Daniel’s hip and a thumb tucked through his belt loop.

As they near the elevator bank, they both freeze. Just a few doors down from Daniel’s office, they see light streaming out from Dr. Lambiase’s office, light that definitely hadn’t been there when Max showed up earlier.

They turn to look at each other, their eyes huge. Slowly, they walk towards the open door and freeze again when a familiar voice calls out from a familiar face. “Evening, boys. I thought I was already done for the day, but I had to come all the way back to campus to grab a couple of folders before break. You two all done for the evening?”

Neither of them says anything. Dr. Lambiase raises an eyebrow at them.

Max nudges Daniel to answer; he’s the TA. Not Dr. Lambiase’s TA, of course, but still. Max is just a student.

Daniel hurries to spit out, “Yeah, yep, we’re all done. Max just had a couple questions from the final exam, but we’re all good now, so we’re gonna go, have a good night, see you later.” He waves, prompts Max to do the same, and then speedwalks them down the rest of the hallway, where they wait in silence for the elevator to arrive.

“Oh my god,” Daniel says as soon as the elevator doors close. “Oh my god!”

“Well,” Max intones. “I guess we can check that one off the fantasy list, then?”

They look at each other silently for a second and then collapse into each other in a pile of giggles. Yeah, Max is definitely going to cross that one off the list.

#winterwarmers2024 #my fic #maxiel #how in the name of sanity is this nearly pushing 3k words?#when i started doing winterwarmers this month #i assumed that each of the fics would be like 500 words at most #this is insanity #also gp was definitely not supposed to make an appearance in this #but then i was like #maybe maybe maybe #😈

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thefandomsfervent · 2 days ago

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Viktor x Reader Personal Pigments(Part 17) - Prussian Blue

This is a jayvik x reader fic now but it'll still be labeled as a Vik Fic until it's fully implemented. Ft. JayVik and wine, drunk Jayvik, it goes 18+ here (masturbation). Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom. It's late, I was on a roll, and I didn't proofread this a whole lot, I'll edit it later.

Planning on writing as much as I can this weekend to post in bulk before Christmas week, I'll be traveling a distance away and can't bring my laptop with me.

stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

It only took you thirty minutes to find your way back to the lab. Although, those first few minutes had you stressed and embarrassed. You and Mel had spent almost two hours walking and talking and you thought she had taken you all over the Academy, but she really had you both walking laps. You were closer to the dining hall than you thought, from there you were able to find your room, and then the lab. Just as you walk up to that heavy door it swings open.

“Zlato, please, use your feet.” It’s Viktor, doing his best to keep Jayce above the floor. You rush forward without thinking and get under Jayce’s other arm to prop him up. You have to drop your pouch and your sketchbook. It gets kicked behind you into the lab once you’re able to stand taller.

“What happened?” You’re asking as you shift Jayce between yourself and Viktor. He’s laughing to himself at the situation. “Oh my gods. He was drunk. Jayce Talis sensible golden boy was drunk.” You remember the wine that Mel had gifted them. But it had only been two hours. Three and half maybe?

“The wine was stronger than we thought.” When you look at Viktor you see his hair is tousled, his cheeks red from exertion or his own drinking you aren’t sure.

“Did he have the whole bottle?” You’re laughing and trying not to. The shaking of your shoulders makes it hard to keep Jayce up straight. “Hun you have to help us help you okay?”

“Mmm you’re both warm. ‘S nice.” You were not letting him live this down tomorrow, if he wasn’t suffering a raging hangover.

“He had four glasses, too close together I think.” Viktor is adjusting his cane straighter with one hand and moving his shoulders around to get a better grip on Jayce’s back with his other.

“And you?”

“I also had four, but I am much better with alcohol than he is.” He thinks back to the first time they had drank together. Some whiskey that was spiced heavily at a cocktail lounge many many months ago. Viktor had enjoyed it, nursing a glass for the first thirty minutes. But Jayce? He slammed it and immediately gagged. Coughing and sputtering. That one drink alone had almost knocked him clean on his ass ten minutes later. He’s laughing at the memory. Especially when he remembers that Jayce made the exact same mistake another ten minutes after drinking a seltzer and they had to sit on the curb outside nursing water. Since then Jayce had learned how to pace himself, learned that he preferred drinks that did not burn his throat and were easier to sip on. Wine was hit or miss. “The wine was sweet, so he was not as cautious as he should have been.”

“WE ARE CELEBRAATING!” The sudden input from Jayce surprised you both. Despite his jelly legs his arms are strong, squeezing the two of you closer. He wasn’t yelling, as much as he was whisper screaming.

“Oh! Congratulations, a new development?” You’re following Viktor’s lead as you take patient steps down the hall. Viktor looks down to Jayce, whose face is flush from all the wine, who has a smile so bright it could be seen in the dark, and who is actively starting to fall asleep in their arms. They needed to move him quickly before he was dead weight. At that point it would be impossible to move him even with your help. There was no time to explain what they were celebrating.

“Yes, a new development.” He can’t help the gentle grin growing on his face. It was so warm. This endearment blooming in his ribs, the wine finding its place throughout his body, feeling your arm against his as you help him haul Jayce down the hallway. He can see their rooms. His was closest and Jayce’s was a couple doors down. There were many reasons he was thankful for the proximity of their moved rooms, but now more than ever. His hand using his cane was starting to go numb from the pressure, a pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder. “Here, to the left. Can you get him to the wall?” Jayce is heavy but you manage to move him to the wall by yourself, needing a breather as you slump against it with him.

He looks sleepy. Eyes struggling to stay open, his mouth parted, his usually perfect combed back hair disheveled.. “Pretty boy indeed.” You’re brushing it out of his face when he leans into your hand. He’s smiling, white teeth and happiness blinding even in the dim light of the hall. “You alright?”

“Neveerr betterrr.” It’s a slurred breathy reply and he slots his head against your shoulder. Viktor is glancing at you while also fiddling with a ring of keys. The clinking sound of metal against metal echoing in the hallway. He finds the one for Jayce’s room and starts unlocking the door. He nods at you to try and get Jayce to his feet.

“Hey big guy, you ready to get up again?” Jayce just hums, pushing the back of his head against the wall now. “Don’t you want to lay down all cozy in bed?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then I’m going to get up and I’ll need you to come with me. Can you do that?” Jayce gives another hum of agreement and Viktor watches how gentle you are with him. Helping him stand gingerly, holding onto his waist with one arm, and pulling Jayce’s arm over your shoulder again. Intertwining your fingers with his golden partner’s as you try your damndest to get him through the door. He watches as you give Jayce affirming words and praise for just moving forward with you. It pulls at his core, at all the things him and Jayce had discussed tonight. At all the moments that have been shared. “I’m a sappy drunk,” he thinks as he directs you to Jayce’s bedroom. Viktor pulls the covers back on the bed and lets you set the man down before he sits with him. Helping him take off his shoes.

“Thank you for your help. I am sure he will apologize tomorrow.” Jayce is leaning against Viktor, whispering something you can’t catch.

“I can’t say I won’t give him a hard time.” You laugh at the thought, then again when Jayce’s hand is slapped away from Viktor’s tie. It almost dies in your throat when you watch Viktor’s slender fingers work at Jayce’s. You know it’s to help Jayce get ready for bed, but after all that you’ve seen today it was an image you weren’t sure you were supposed to be burning into your memory like you are. “Goodluck. I’ll be in the hall if you need help.” Viktor just nods, trying to get Jayce to sit still as you leave.

You can hear Viktor talking to Jayce, instructing him as you close the bedroom door. Jayce’s apartment is neat but lived in. It smelled a little of oil? And baked spices. A jacket tossed over a couch, shoes neatly lined by the front door. A table with notes and blueprints that looked similar to how he kept his own room. Stacks of books filled with sticky notes. There are a few plants around. A guitar? So much information about a person in one space. It made you wonder about Viktor’s room. If it was neater than this knowing that he barely spent any time there. As you make your way into the hall you remember that Viktor had a key, on his own key ring, to Jayce’s place. So intimate, the care they had for each other. So sweet in its normalcy. A feeling brews in your chest as you wait by the door. Overwhelming and unknown, something akin to wanting.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“You are drunk Jayce.” Viktor is trying his hardest to not laugh at the man in front of him, struggling to unbutton his own shirt.

“ ‘know that.” An irritated huff, an uncommon sound for his partner. “ ‘m trying.”

“I know you are, let me help.” It takes a few minutes to get Jayce set up for bed. Viktor leaves him in his undershirt, let’s Jayce take care of his pants despite the struggle. There’s a want brewing in him. He wants to stay here, to hold him til he sleeps, be there with water and maybe a pain reliever when he wakes up. But he doesn’t. He ignores the whine in Jayce’s throat when he goes to the kitchen to get his partner water. When he returns Jayce is out cold. Snoring softly under the covers. He leaves the water on the bedside table, watching the even breathing that moves Jayce’s chest. A hand moves to cup his cheek, rubbing a circle into the apple of it. Viktor’s heart swells when he feels the weight of Jayce push into it unconsciously.

He joins you in the hallway shortly after. You were staring at the wall in front of you, zoning out when the closing of the door snaps you out of it.

“Hey, he alright?” You’re leaning forward, hands by your side as you face him.

“He will be fine. Embarrassed, but fine.” Viktor was tired, the wine making him sleepy and warm. He starts walking towards his room and you follow.

“Didn’t think he’d be a lightweight. It’s kinda-” cute. You don’t finish the sentence but it seems like Viktor agrees with you, laughing softly as his cane taps against the floor.

“Unexpected. I did not know either when we first met. He will deny it though, if you ask it. Blames it on anything else.” He likes hearing you laugh. He likes knowing he caused it. He frowns when he realizes how short the walk is to his room. You would be leaving now. “Goodnight Ms. L/N. We shall see you in the lab tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes. Goodnight Viktor.” Your voice is so soft, so sweet. Viktor watches as you walk down the hall, flipping through all the keys he has before finding the one for his door. He hadn’t gone to bed this early in a long time. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and he was already in his room getting ready to shower. Discarding clothes, finding ones for tomorrow. Brushing his teeth as the shower heats up.

When he steps in it fogs up the window over his sink. The warm water soothing the aches of his body. He goes over today’s events as he lathers a shampoo through his hair. How Jayce’s teasing of you led to teasing him. And now they were… together. Officially. Finally declared as two parts of a whole, and that they both wanted you. He thinks about the wine. How it was sweet and rich and strong. How it was sweeter on Jayce when he kissed him again. How pliant Jayce was in his hands, the heat of those broad shoulders in his palms. The sounds of their kissing, teeth clacking, lips hungrier after every glass.

He should be rinsing the soap out of his hair, he should be washing his body. The routine of putting soap to a washcloth, rubbing it between his hands to form suds lingers in the back of his mind as he continues to think of those kisses. How he could taste fermented fruit and cinnamon and Jayce. A different familiar memory cuts through the haze, much stronger this time. Of release, of teasing touches from past lovers. His imagination taking over. When Jayce tried to bed him would he touch him the same way? The shower is getting hotter, the wine on his breath despite having brushed his teeth. When he tried to bed you, would you react like he did? Would you feel the same that he and Jayce did, would you want them together?

His hand was moving lower, lower, lower. He could feel it happening, the blood moving down, the water against it but he is surprised at how hard he is. When he moves his hand down, the tip moving past the opening of his fist he imagines your lips. How would they feel on him, would you be experienced enough to wet them before starting. The image of you on your knees alone has him moving faster but then his thoughts wander. Would you start slow or would you try to take him all at once? Could he fist both of his hands in your hair and hold you there so could he fuck your mouth. Or would you take the lead, bobbing your head up and down. He imagines your hands holding it or maybe braced on his hips, fingers digging into the flesh. Would Jayce talk you through it once he knew what worked for Viktor?

He can feel it building, all too quickly. It's been a while since he indulged himself like this. A raspy breath falling from his chapped lips. You were so soft. Sweet. Your voice. Quiet and gentle. Would it be honeyed with a returned lust or would it be strained? Dazed like that morning he woke you? "Viktor?" It’s your voice. It’s Jayce’s. The intensity almost knocks him off balance, free hand bracing on the tiled wall as he finishes. Shooting forward onto the handles of the shower. A long burst followed by several short ones as he slows his hand. Twitching when he lets himself go.

And then the only fog he's left with is the steam of the shower. He felt faint, the shower water was too hot and he hadn't been taking full breaths. He turns a handle to make the shower cold and his hand is sticky with his release. Shame. Regret. Oh. What did he just do? He wants to blame it on Jayce’s teasing today. On the glass of wine that warmed his chest. But he knows that's not it. That it's his own depravity.

Well, he could blame all of those things. Embarrassment burns his cheeks more than the water, more than the wine. He hadn’t indulged in that in so, so long. And the realization that there would be something with Jayce in the future settles in his chest. That Jayce wouldn’t be upset with him for this. He takes a deep breath.

More thoughts for later. Exhaustion is deep in his bones now, it had been a long day despite coming to his room early. He needs to sleep, to clean up. He lathers the rag on the hook and enjoys the rest of his shower. Tomorrow will be a new day. A good day.

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 16-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

#chat he jorked it #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane #viktor arcane #x reader #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #jayvik #jayvikmel #jayce talis #mel medarda

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silenzahra · 1 day ago

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I'm super late for this but I hope it's okay that I answer you now 🥰

Hehe, no worries, my friend! As you can see, your suggestion actually gave me the idea to write these headcanons, so I'm truly very grateful 🥰

I'm so glad you enjoyed the three of them!! Mario really is so so smitten with Peach, and of course she adores him back as well 🥰 I had so much fun writing them in matching outfits! They truly are two lovebirds ❤️🩷

HATTIE MY BELOVED. The doggy just HAD to appear because I absolutely LOVE playing with her (she's a girl for me hehe), and sometimes I even spent more time playing fetch with her than actually progressing in the game 😂😂 So you know, I think it was fitting that Mario ended up adopting her (and I'm a dog lover, which is something that played a big part in this decision as well 🤭).

Oh yes, Luigi believing there's another Luigi was just so silly and cute!! I didn't get to include it in my headcanons, but in case you haven't seen @bberetd's Odyssey piece, you'll see a reference to this, and it's absolutely adorable 🥹❤️💚

I couldn't agree more about the coat thing!!! I've always found it SO unfair that Mario and Peach got to have their own outfits while Luigi couldn't even have a coat 🤦‍♀️ (Not that Peach or Mario don't deserve, I'm just saying Luigi deserves it too!). Mario hugging him to keep him warm, it honestly reminded me of the time when I wrote my fic Keeping you warm and I loved it even more because of it 🥹 Oh... an idea??? It sounds evil but... count me interested 👀 I'm always down for some brotherly angst 😈

Hehe, I thought it'd be funny to have Luigi keep his bowtie even when he's wearing a poncho 😂😂 I love to imagine them both wearing matching Mexican outfits 😁😁 And the scene on the moon, that was simply my MOST favorite part to write!! The thought of them not wanting to be apart, and the lunar gravity helping them float even more 🥹🥹🥹 I simply couldn't be happier that you liked that part so much!!!

Aw... I have to admit I was VERY tempted to include my beloved Daisy here, but I wanted to stay true to the game. Still, I absolutely LOVED writing the Golden Trio parts, especially from Mario's perspective, as he get to hang out with his two favorite people in the world, and Luigi and Peach's friendship is one of my biggest weaknesses 🥹 I feel that I don't write these two being besties enough, so I guess this was a way of trying to fix that. And of course, Luigi is Mareach's #1 fan so he's more than happy to help them spend more time together 🥰 But both Mario and Peach love him so much (though differently) that they simply couldn't let him out. As you point out, it's simply impossible to say no to that face!! 🥹🥹

Hehehe, I absolutely LOVE all the lessons you've learned from these headcanons, my friend 🤭🤭 The first one especially made me laugh as I love to imagine Mario being all flustered when Peach is wearing her swimsuit 😂❤️🩷

Thank you soooo much for the reblog, your support, and for giving me the idea in the first place!! I really owe you a big one 🥰💖💖

🌜 Super Mario Odyssey: post-ending headcanons 🌛

Today marks seven years since the release of my FAVORITE 3D Mario game:

🌜 Super Mario Odyssey 🌛

This game really means EVERYTHING to me, so I wanted to make a little something to commemorate this date. I have to admit I didn't have any ideas at first, but then I remembered what @pepperycar commented on this post... and was suddenly inspired 🤭 Thank you so much, my friend! I owe you this one 💖

So, here I bring you a few ideas that I had on what could have happened after the end of Super Mario Odyssey. There will be Mareach, brotherly love, and SPOILERS, so if you haven't finished this game yet: beware!! ⚠

(And please go play it because it's AWESOME.)

@vulpixfairy1985 @bberetd @megamagimugi @peaches2217 @keakruiser

@itsavee4117 @roscolate @smokszyvverstar @wahooitsamee @kelbreyworshipper I thought perhaps you might be interested, so I hope it's okay that I tag you 🥰 Of course, no worries if you're not! Feel free to ignore this post and please forgive me for bothering you 😅

Also, I took a bit of inspo from this adorable post that I remember reblogging from my old account. Please have a look if you haven't yet because it's absolutely CUTE 🥹

Without further ado... Let's-a go! ❤️

👑 Peach's wardrobe 👑

Princess Peach has a large and varied wardrobe. So far, Mario only remembers seeing her wearing her signature pink dresses, her favorite. She has several that are very similar to each other, with only a few small differences between them, such as puffed sleeves that her summer dress does not have, or an older design in which almost the entire skirt is a darker shade of pink. Peach always appears before him and his subjects wearing one of these outfits as pink is her favorite color, and one that, in Mario's opinion, suits her very well.

Recently, however, Mario has found that his beloved princess has a wide variety of outfits and has decided to start wearing them to visit the various kingdoms that Bowser has taken her to during her kidnapping, now that she finally has the freedom to choose where, when, and with whom to go.

And Mario loves to dress to match her.

The first time they did it, Mario ran into Peach and her friend Tiara almost by accident as she, as brave as ever, explored the lonely Forgotten Isle in an outfit worthy of Indiana Jones himself. Shorts, a backpack on her back, boots prepared for the earthy soil of the place... and her hair in a bun that was hidden under her explorer's cap.

Mario didn't take half a second to run back to his Odyssey ship and put on his own explorer's outfit to join her and continue exploring the island together.

When he met her in New Donk City, Peach was wearing one of Mario's favorite outfits of all the ones he had seen her in so far: a long pink flying skirt that, unlike her dresses, left her feet exposed; a gorgeous white blouse with a scarf around her neck, in a pastel pink shade that matched her pristine skin; and a wide hat over her abundant blonde hair. She looked beautiful and very comfortable, and the best part: she loved the black suit with matching fedora that Mario put on to go with Peach’s outfit. She told him he looked very elegant, and Mario thought his smile would overflow on both sides of his face since his cheeks hurt so much.

To him, on the other hand, the one who looked tremendously stylish and graceful was Peach when he met her in Bonneton. Her attire was dark, composed of a grayish coat, black stockings and gloves of the same color, which she combined with a beret that adorned her long hair. Mario kept watching her for a while, unable to help it, and he did the same thing when he met her in Shiveria, since the black and gold of her figure stood out among so much blinding white.

On that occasion, Mario felt that he’d never measure up to her with his orange, quilted coat, as opposed to Bonneton, where he was able to look at least a bit elegant with his black tuxedo, his red bow tie and a top hat that gave him the look of a magician. Or, at least, that's what she told him, while letting out a giggle that made Mario think of the softest and sweetest crystal bells.

Another one of his favorite outfits for the princess was her farmer attire, which was the one she chose to wear to visit the Luncheon Kingdom. Mario wasn’t surprised to find her picking turnips to help the locals prepare their famous soup, as it wasn’t the first time he’d seen her pulling vegetables from the ground. When she saw him dressed in his chef's outfit, she immediately applauded him and prepared to hand over the vegetables to him, thus naming him the official in charge of preparing the delicious best dish of the kingdom.

As for the last three outfits the princess has worn, Mario is unable to choose, as all three have provoked various sensations in him that made him wish he could stare at her forever, without having any other worries or mission to carry out. The Yukata with the fire flower pattern was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of them, a beautiful and lovely vision that gave him back some vitality and joy when he ran into Peach in Bowser's Kingdom. He, as bold as brass, put on his samurai outfit, ready to defend her from any evil, and she, always so demure, covered her face with her hand-held fan to hide a soft giggle. Still, watching her hair pulled back in a ponytail and the Boo-shaped buckle adorning her head, Mario knew he’d never measure up to her.

And he felt the same way when, while strolling along Bubblaine Beach and enjoying the coolness of the water with his doggy friend, he found her there, wearing that pretty white sarong adorned with pink power moons, the sunglasses on her blonde head... and that bikini that exposed more porcelain skin than Mario had ever seen. He felt completely ridiculous in his red swimsuit with white polka dots and wanted to sink to the depths of the crystal-clear waters of the kingdom just to prevent her from seeing him like that.

However, that couldn't overcome how stupid and embarrassed Mario felt when, just after rescuing her from Bowser's clutches, he got caught up in an absurd competition with the king of the Koopas to try to get Peach to agree to marry him. They may have both been wearing the perfect outfits, Peach in her beautiful white dress that made her look like an angel and him in his tuxedo of the same color and matching hat.

But Mario realized too late that this was not the right moment.

Still, he is content to have had the opportunity, albeit brief, to stand next to Peach while they both wore what would possibly be their wedding outfits. Mario knows that this will never happen again, that it’ll never come true, because the idea of trying to propose again wouldn’t even cross his mind. It took him a long time to forgive himself for his huge blunder, even though it took Peach only a few minutes to do so, and he’d never be able to be at peace with himself if he bothered her again.

Peach's friendship is very precious to Mario. He loves to meet her on his travels and share a few moments with her, full of fun and trust, which he wishes he could extend in time forever. In addition, on more than one occasion, Peach has asked him to accompany her to Lake Lemonade to make a new dress, and sometimes she has also invited Toad and Luigi. The people there are experts in haute couture, and Mario is always spellbound as he watches Peach pose for the seamstresses, who, in a matter of minutes, are able to create a new dress for her, each one more beautiful than the last.

And, on each occasion, Peach always turns on herself so that the dress can be appreciated in all its splendor, making her look more dazzling than a star and more radiant than the sun itself.

🎈 Balloon Brothers🎈

Shortly after he saved Peach, Mario made two decisions when he continued to travel the kingdoms on his Odyssey ship. The first one was to adopt his loyal doggy friend, the clever Shiba that has helped him find so many power moons during his adventure. He named her Hattie, as she adores wearing a hat on her head no matter where they travel to, and also because her favorite game is chasing after Mario's cap and bring it back to him.

And the second one, as soon as he ran into Luigi for the first time, was that he'd always play Balloon World with him.

Every world he travels to, whatever his purpose or the mission that takes him there, Mario always has time for his little brother and loves to play Balloon World with him. He adores seeing his sibling so cheerful and excited, and the way he claps and cheers him on always causes Mario’s unstoppable energy to soar and his heart to melt with tenderness.

In Fossil Falls, Luigi was so scared of the T-Rex that organizing the game for Mario served as a distraction and a way for him to release some stress, something Mario was extremely relieved about. In Forgotten Isle, the same bird that had captured Cappy was threatening to pop the balloons that kept Luigi in the air and that were an essential part of his outfit as the game organizer, which only motivated Mario to chase the darned bird with the help of his loyal Hattie, until, at last, and to the relief of both brothers and Cappy, he managed to scare it away.

However, as soon as Mario ran into Luigi in the Snow Kingdom, shivering with cold in his shirtsleeves, but still smiling at his brother and inviting him to play while hugging himself, Mario did not hesitate for a moment: he hurried to get rid of his orange coat and, ignoring Luigi's faint protests, threw it over his twin, taking care not to accidentally pop his balloons. Despite his initial reluctance, Luigi couldn't help but close his eyes as he snuggled into the garment, trying to get warm, and Mario, his heart shrinking, hugged him with all his might as he gently rubbed his arms and back. Luigi cuddled up to him and Mario stroked his hair gently, his mind flooded with memories of when they were both little and Luigi would run to hide in his bed because he thought there was a monster under his bed. Sighing as he held his sibling in his arms, trying to shield him from the cold and icy drafts, Mario didn't agree to play until after he had taken Luigi inside his ship to wrap him in a blanket and offer him a hot drink to warm up inside.

Nevertheless, the opposite thing happened in Tostarena: Luigi, always determined to stay true to his original outfit as the game's creator, was too warm for the scorching desert heat. Before playing Balloon World, Mario decided that his little brother needed a change to feel more comfortable. So he grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the shop. Luigi had to bend down so that his balloons could go in with him, and Mario immediately tried to convince him to, like him, put on a typical costume of the land, poncho and wide hat included, to feel comfier while they played there. His twin resisted a little, always wanting to maintain the elegance a game show host should always display, but when Mario assured him that he could keep his green bow tie, Luigi finally gave in. And, seeing them both in matching outfits, Mario also managed to convince his brother to play Balloon World together, to which Luigi agreed only after gifting him one of his balloons for Mario to wear on his wrist.

And they've done it many more times since then: in Peronza Plaza, in Bonneton, in New Donk City... even on the Moon! Also, whenever they play in the Mushroom Kingdom, the Toads join them and Luigi ends up giving them as many balloons as possible so they can have fun playing on their own, being the kind-hearted person he is.

Of course, Mario is well aware that his sibling knows the locations of the balloons, being the organizer of Balloon World, but he equally enjoys touring the various worlds with his little brother by the hand, dragging him along while Luigi floats after him and simply lets himself go. Mario’s heart sings for joy with every laugh that escapes his twin’s throat, especially when Hattie also joins the fun and runs with them in search for the balloon, only to pop it as soon as they do. Mario also loves the way Luigi guides him, or often misleads him, to make his search for the balloon easier or more complicated. Mario likes to be challenged by the game and Luigi knows it, so he appreciates it when his brother tries to trick him to divert him from his initial goal. This lengthens the game, as well as the time the brothers spend together, thus increasing the fun.

However, when it's time to say goodbye, Mario can read in his brother's face that he’s just as reluctant to part with him as Mario himself. His complicated missions through the kingdoms and, also, the longing to be reunited with Peach and spend some time with her as well have caused Mario to have to leave his brother's side without really wanting to, his soul screaming in the depths of his being that he should not do so, that he should turn back and return to Luigi's side.

When the same thing happens to him in the Moon Kingdom, Mario finally stops before entering his ship and turns on his heels. He sees Luigi raise his head, confused to see him turn around, and the surprise on his face only grows when Mario starts running towards him, although a little slower than he’d like due to the moon's gravity. A smile breaks out on Mario's face as he speeds up as fast as he can, and he stretches out his arms as he approaches his little brother. Luigi barely has time to open his arms as well before Mario pounces on him.

Luigi's gasp causes Mario to burst out laughing as he spins around with his brother in his arms, holding him tightly. It takes him a few seconds to realize that both of them are now floating in the air, propelled not only by Luigi's balloons, but also by the lack of gravity prevailing on the moon. His sibling clings to him as he laughs shyly, and Mario pulls away from him a second before his feet touch down again.

Holding Luigi's hands tightly and energetically, Mario offers him to board his Odyssey ship and accompany him on his travels, so that they can continue playing Balloon World together as his adventure progresses. And, perhaps, Luigi could also help him during their missions, just like in the old days, when they visited faraway realms, such as Pi’illo Island or the Beanbean Kingdom, and even became partners in time.

As he speaks, Mario is very aware that his eyes are shining, full of excitement. His whole face must be, in fact, as euphoria bubbles up inside him like a river of unstoppable lava. He’s unable to keep completely still, so he inadvertently shakes his hands and, with them, those of his brother, as he explains his idea to him. And his enthusiasm undoubtedly rubs off on his twin, as Mario can read in Luigi's blue eyes, identical to his own, which are filling with a special glow that can only mean he shares Mario's eagerness.

And so it was that the brothers began to travel together.

✨ The Golden Trio ✨

In some of their first trips together, when the brothers are about to play Balloon World, Peach meets them and becomes a spectator of their games. Luigi welcomes her with open arms and quickly explains to her what Mario has to do, and while his brother is searching, Luigi reveals in whispers to the princess where the balloon his twin is looking for is hidden.

Although, at first, Mario is a little embarrassed that Peach is going to watch him while he searches, he quickly decides that he must do everything he can to impress her, so he puts more effort into finding the balloon quickly and on his own, despite Hattie's attempts to help him. Whenever he succeeds, Luigi praises him enthusiastically and gives him a big hug, which Mario reciprocates joyfully and heartily. Peach, after applauding him a little more demurely, leans over to place a kiss on his nose, causing Mario's whole face to light up until it looks redder than his shirt. This always happens under the watchful eye of Luigi, who doesn't miss the chance to give his sibling a playful nudge while trying to silence his giggles, causing Mario's blush to increase.

However, the third time Peach meets the brothers, Luigi has the idea of inviting her to participate in the game, which he eagerly puts to her. Both she and Mario are delighted, and Luigi immediately rearranges the game so that Mario and Peach can play in competition against each other.

Of course, respect and friendship prevail in the game. Mario continues to play as usual, but Peach often beats him, as she’s quick and smart, and he can only admire her more and more every time this happens. In fact, he’d say that he enjoys the occasions when the princess beats him the most, as he loves to see her so happy and enjoying herself when playing with him. Needless to say, even though Luigi is a most enthusiastic audience, Mario is the one who always applauds Peach the most, which makes her blush, something that doesn't happen to her when she thanks Luigi's compliments.

When the game is preparing to take place for the fifth time since Mario and Peach started playing together, Mario can't help but notice the way his brother is wringing his hands and fiddling with his fingers as he watches them. The game is about to begin, but he can't take his eyes off Luigi. He can read his face like an open book, something that has happened practically since they were born... and he doesn't like what he sees.

It's not that Luigi is sad. He's happy to be with them and eager to see them play Balloon World again. He's ready to cheer them both on and shower them with praise, as always, for, after all, his little brother is one of the sweetest and gentlest people he knows.

However, Mario can see in his gestures, in the way he bites his lower lip, in the way he fiddles with his own hands, in the way his eyes sparkle, that Luigi misses being able to join the game despite knowing the location of the balloons beforehand.

So even though Luigi gives the start command just a second later, Mario doesn't move.

And it pleases him greatly to realize that Peach, next to him, hasn't moved either.

When he turns his face towards her, Peach does the same. Mario barely needs a few seconds to realize that the princess, always as perceptive and as concerned about Luigi as he is, almost as if she were some sort of big sister to him, has also noticed the longing that shines in his little brother's eyes.

The two hold each other's gaze for a moment before smiling determinedly and giving one another a mutual nod. In unison, the two turn to Luigi, who looks from one to the other, his face the spitting image of bewilderment. As he and Peach start walking towards the game organizer, Mario can't help but let out a laugh in anticipation of what's about to happen, and he hears Peach let out a small giggle next to him that only makes his heart swell.

Decisively, they both hold Luigi, each with one hand, and Mario puts his other arm around Luigi's shoulders while Peach wraps her free arm around the younger plumber’s back. Luigi doesn't understand anything, but he doesn't resist, since, of course, he trusts them completely. Peach and Mario start walking while dragging him along, and the princess proclaims that, by royal order, Luigi must play Balloon World with them. This finally gets Luigi to relax and even laugh, and Mario feels his little brother squeeze his hand as he and the princess laugh together.

For a moment, Mario simply watches them. His heart fills with joy whenever he sees them getting along so well. He loves that Luigi has found in Peach a friend he can trust and be himself with, and he loves that the princess, in each of their interactions, shows that she truly cares about Luigi's well-being and wants only the best for him.

And he just loves them both so much that his heart could burst.

He couldn’t live without either of them.

When the game concludes, shortly before the brothers return to the Odyssey ship, Mario summons the courage to offer Peach to join them. That way, the three of them could travel together, keep each other company and help one another in their adventures, and they’ll always have the chance to play Balloon World together.

As he speaks, however, it occurs to Mario that perhaps he should have consulted Luigi before inviting Peach, so he throws a sidelong glance at his brother to try to apologize to him without words.

But Luigi, ever so sweet and kind, ever the man with the purest heart, is nodding eagerly as he hears his brother speak, and as soon as Mario concludes, Luigi turns to Peach and takes her hands while expressing how much he’d love for her to join them. Mario can't and won't hold back the look of intense love and adoration he gives his twin as he talks to the princess. Who, of course, gladly accepts.

Thus, Mario, Luigi and Peach, accompanied by the inseparable and always loyal Hattie, Cappy and Tiara, embark on the Odyssey to a new world. And, as they travel, the three of them look out the window, Mario and Luigi with their hands on the glass and looking at the clouds with excitement, and the princess, with a hand resting on the shoulder of each of the brothers as she joins in their excitement at the sight they are contemplating.

Their adventure has only just begun.

#super mario odyssey #super mario #reblogs #reblogs of my content #pepperycar #silenzahra

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susiekern · 2 days ago

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7. the one with a challenge

a/n: I've been fighting with tumblr for TWO DAMN DAYS to post it, so I really hope you enjoy

warnings: swearing, suggestive ig

word count: 1.227

lyrics from: The Apparition & Jaws - Sleep Token

masterlist

“No way.”

“Way.”

The face that Megumi makes rips a laugh from you. It was your classic evening meeting, but since the weather was tragic for the past few days, you’ve ditched the rooftop, settling in your room instead. Lying on your bed with a couple of snacks and a respectful distance between you, you’ve spent the last hour catching up. With how busy Megumi was in the past few weeks, your talks were usually short, and there were fewer of them. Somehow you only now told him about the DM from Zenin, but the amount of strength it took not to scream about it as soon as he stepped into your apartment? You deserve a medal.

“Maybe it’s some sort of ‘be kind to your lamest fan’ charity event. You know, like make a wish.” He says, and you flip him off.

“Maybe I’m just cool as fuck and someone finally appreciates that?” You counter.

“Nah, I’d bet on the charity.” Fushiguro laughs a little when you groan and shove a pillow towards him. For a moment you close your eyes and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere, something you lacked in the past days. Working on a new collaboration, streaming, and maintaining your life at the same time was a bit tiring and mostly overwhelming. That’s why you appreciate the calm evening more than usual. You and Megumi talking about the events of this week, the room illuminated just by the fairy lights, music playing in the background from your PC… it’s nice and relaxing. Very much needed for probably both of you. Mr. Guitarist was close to being done with recording the songs for his job, so he stopped spending almost every waking hour of the day in the studio. You can clearly see that he’s tired, but when you commented on it, he shrugged and said it was more important for him to create something he’d be proud of than sleep for healthy 8 hours.

“What’s with the aggression?” Sudden question silences the thoughts in your head, but you keep your eyes closed still.

“What do you mean, aggression?”

“That’s the fourth time you hit me with a pillow. I got two kicks to my shins and a mean fist in the arm.” He counts all of your attacks, and you peer at him.

“I’ll never believe that this fist hurt you in the slightest. For someone who barely eats and locks himself in the studio, your biceps are crazy. But okay, I suppose I’m a bit more aggressive than usual.” Megumi looks shocked, although you’re not sure if that’s because of your aggression or how easily you’ve admitted it. “It’s been a busy week, and I have a bit too much energy. And I haven’t gotten my normal dose of annoying you and Yuji.”

“Damn, first of all, I still train even when I’m working, thank you very much. And second... I don’t even know how to comment on that. You should just punch Yuji, not someone who spends time with you, and bring snacks.” With that statement, he lies back, with his arms behind his head. It’s not weird that you looked at his flexed muscles and a sliver of abs revealed by his shirt rolling up, right? God, this man is fine. Does he have to be so fine?

“Yuji just whines when I do that, though. You flex. Easy choice.” You sigh and close your eyes again, pretending like it was just a normal thing. Yes, you both sometimes threw a flirty comment here and there, never directly referring to your night together, but it was a little different.

When you were on the rooftop, it gave you the freedom of saying shit in an open space. Here, in your room, you are almost painfully aware of how close he is lying. You can feel the heat from his body and smell his perfume. And you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t doing things to you. But Megumi is no better. You’ve noticed how he eyed you up after coming, taking in your shorts, simple t-shirt, and messy hair. Or how his eyes lingered on your face for a little longer than they should.

“So, you like what you see, huh?” He turns on his side, leaning his head on one hand, his elbow keeping him up. If your eyes were open, you would see how his own trace your body, ending their path on your lips. He just needs to lean forward a little… “That makes sense, I’m the hot neighbor after all.”

“Huh?” That brings you to open your eyes and look at him with shock. Only now do you realize that the snack barrier between you two did close to nothing, given how close his face is to yours. And you do not miss how his gaze moves from your lips, but after another second or two. It’s a dangerous game, but neither of you seemed to care.

“I’ve seen your stream. Well, a part of it. How did you put it? ‘I can’t say he’s bad-looking." You’re blushing at this point. You had no idea he watched any of it, especially since he saw how you answered a question about him.

“Don’t let it get to your head. I was just entertaining the chat.” He smirks, knowing very well that’s a lie, and leans a little closer. Your heart seems to be beating to the rhythm of the Fallen song that’s playing in the background, your eyes peeking at his lips on their own.

‘And I'm not here to be

The saviour you long for’

“Sure.” His voice goes down to a whisper. The seconds go by, and you seem to be frozen, both calculating how bad it would be to take the next step.

“Megumi…” You’re whispering too, hypnotized by how intense his gaze is. You want to tell him you shouldn’t. You really do. But the amount of time you’ve spent thinking about him, about his kisses and touch, keeps you from doing it. Would it really be that bad? Doing this one more time?

“Tell me you don’t want it.” There’s a hint of a challenge in how he says it. And since when are you one to hide from a challenge?

You’re the one to kiss him first this time. His reaction is immediate; the hand that was lying on the mattress cups your cheek as Megumi tastes your lips, and you need to hold back a moan. How much you’ve missed that feeling. His touch is gentle, yet reassuring, when he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. He moves to hover over your body, holding his weight on one arm.

‘Show me those pretty white jaws

Show me where the delicate stops’

“Fuck. I’ve wanted to do that ever since you stepped on that damn roof.” Whispering, he lowers his lips down to your jaw and neck, and your hands now move to his sides and back.

“You should’ve.” You whisper back. You don’t need to see his face to know he has that irritating smirk on, you can feel it on your skin. His hands make their way under your shirt, and he pulls himself from kissing your neck to look in your eyes. “Just one more time?”

“One more time.”

‘Show me what wounds you've got

Show me love’

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115

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redgoldblue · 2 days ago

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so assuming Avery is actually pregnant / doesn't early-trimester miscarry (which is not a given), there's two reasonable ways this can go, right. number one is she gets an abortion, the plotline is used to pull them all back together again, and they all have some collective hurt/comfort about it. number two, the one i would write - don't get me wrong, i'm all for women getting career-driven abortions, but hear me out - is the one where she does have the baby. under the cut bc it got long.

she goes to med school at first while pregnant - Max is right, it can be done, people in my cohort did it - and either gets lucky with the timing of the actual birth being during holidays, or just works her way to getting time off for a few weeks around it. And then... there's a baby. And you know what else there is? There's two dads (because we're 100% Mamma Mia-ing this bitch. they never find out who the bio dad is and they never seriously try. Baby comes out with Avery's exact skin tone so that's no clue.), and an entire cruise ship worth of backup babysitters. So Avery goes back to med school, and leaves the baby with Tristan and Max.

And, yes, raising a baby while also running an infirmary with a rotating cast of temporary substitute nurses filling Avery's role isn't the easiest thing they've ever done, but Robert loves fulfilling grandparent duties any time he's not on duty; Rosie gets one of those strap-on baby carriers and walks her (i don't know why i've decided the baby is a her but i have now) around the engine room pointing out parts and explaining concepts and hey, the baby never complains about her Michigan stories; Corey gets a cart and a bundle of clean sheets and pushes her down the corridors until the smell of laundry powder automatically makes her start laughing.

Max and Tristan make a pact to send Avery at least two photos a day - which ends up getting supplemented by everyone else who's with Baby - and FaceTime her most days, and whenever she gets a few days off she meets them in port. (The most expensive part of baby-raising ends up being her flights to wherever the Odyssey happens to be at the time, at least until Robert finds out and figures out a way to start paying her 'maternity leave', despite her insistence that the whole point of this is that she isn't maternity-leaving and he should probably be paying himself that and anyway, isn't she technically not an employee right now?)

And the thing is, during this time, Max and Tristan start... realising some things. Like how neither of them feel like they've lost their only partner, because they.. haven't. Like how the co-parenting's been working out better than either of them expected, because they fell instantly (minus a few minor bumps) into a shared rhythm. Like how sometimes they look at the other one holding Baby and feel like their heart's about to explode.

Also, they've both started sleeping in Max's bed. Because Baby's spent so much time sleeping in the corner of the infirmary that now if she wakes up at night and can't see both of them, she starts crying inconsolably. And obviously Max's suite is more suited to multiple inhabitants, and they're usually too damn exhausted to even remember the first time they were in this bed together.

(usually. most of the time. and when they're not, they don't make it the other's problem)

So at the end of the first year of this, the last two days of the year's last cruise have been packed with crisis after crisis after demanding patient after crisis, and as soon as they finally wave the last passenger off they hand Baby gratefully over to Robert and go crash out in Max's bed.

Avery was supposed to be meeting them on board tomorrow, but her last exam gets unexpectedly moved up by a day (believe me, med school loves to pull that kind of shit on you), so a couple hours after the passengers have gone, she shows up to surprise them. And finds Robert (a known ody3 shipper) first, who lets her take Baby with minimal captainly sulking about it, and while she rocks and kisses Baby, tells her (as a known ody3 shipper) that the two dads will be on the Pelican deck, but they're probably asleep.

Avery kinda frowns at him, but doesn't question it, and takes Baby up with her to Max's suite to find them. And they are both fast asleep, on either side of Max's bed with a space carefully preserved between them (because it's usually where Baby would be and they're both terrified of accidentally rolling onto her in the middle of the night). She's also exhausted after exams, so she crawls into it, lies on her back with Baby on top of her chest, and goes straight to sleep.

Tristan and Max wake up before her, and when they look across at each other, at Avery and Baby between them, they both simultaneously realise, oh. oh. oh, this - this three, two-and-half, four people, all together - this is it. this is the love, this is the children, this might even be the home - the second, third, fourth bucket list items to happen in this bed.

#there is a non-zero chance i will actually end up writing this fic. there are multiple scenes half-coalesced in my head #but in the meantime have this #Doctor Odyssey #Ody3 #Quackers #Doctor Odyssey spoilers #mine #Avery Morgan #Tristan Silva #Max Bankman #i wanted to cry and hug tristan into oblivion watching the last scene #he fucked up with the 'sharing' stuff but my god he pulled it out for this #my writing #the other version of this i would love that's probably not going to happen is the one where there is no baby #but the abortion/miscarriage makes them both go 'fuck it life's too short for [insert reasons here]. yes avery let's do it'#and then they're all having sex with each other but outside of it tristan and max are only doing romantic stuff with avery #not each other. and both wind up feeling like something's missing and have a crisis that they made the wrong decision #until someone external (i'm thinking Robert for Max and a random polyam passenger he makes friends with for Tristan) actually interrogate #them on exactly what they're feeling and it makes them realise. hang on. whoops. turns out i might be more jealous of avery getting to kiss #tristan/max than i am of tristan/max kissing her. bc i'm actually fine and chill with avery doing whatever #because i know and trust that she's with us anyway. so jealousy might not be the right word at all and also. hm.

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concretecultist · 1 day ago

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The Vulture and The Finch

summary: a short story where the finch trusts the vulture, leading to a gut-wrenching betrayal.

word count: i have no idea actually but it is short.

warnings: angst, no happy ending, betrayal

A/N: Inspired by the song Birds by the Sea by BANKS. im back and im here fo bring the heartache.

“You never sang for me,”

Fighting the tears in your eyes was something you found yourself doing more often these days than not. His outfits were the same, but he wasn’t. How did this much time pass? You felt so lost, you stand alone now and the one person you wanted to stand by you forever… now stands with someone else.

“Y/N… what did you call me here for?” He has a right to ask this question. You haven’t spoken in almost two years. All the rumors you heard have become too much to bear, it was gutting you to even think about any of it being true. But seeing the five o’clock shadow and the ring on his left hand was answer enough.

“Heard you’re living with a girl by the sea,” You tried to smile, tried to choke out laughter to seem supportive but it all just sounded strangled; gurgled as if you’re drowning.

You stare out at the waves, aching with the knowledge that Noah always knew you wanted to settle down by the water as it was your safe space. You could cry while sitting on the shore, sharing something in common with the water that greeted you, the salt in your tears mimicking the crashing of the waves, releasing your pain. The wind that whisked past you whispered in your ears with each gust, ‘this too shall pass’.

It all feels like a lie now.

He said he’d never leave you. With all the warnings your mutual friends were giving you, you shouldn’t have believed him, especially because every time he said it, he said it by the door.

Subtle foreshadowing.

Was it because you broke the ancient superstition to never buy your lover shoes unless you want them to walk right out of your life? Perhaps it was the time you bought him the watch he wanted, bringing forth the bad omen on yourself, giving you no choice but to countdown how much time you had left together.

How rich that he’s wearing that very watch now.

“Heard she’s have a little baby now, how sweet”

He’s taken your dreams, your visions, just to fashion them to fit his current life. A piece of you has been stolen, it has kept you up at night more times you can count while he sleeps ever so peacefully.

“You don’t get to speak on my family,” His voice was void of any patience. He’s not even sure why he entertained you to come out here.

It’s sad really, the thought of Noah was always accompanied by birds, flying around you two as they sang their tune, but he never sang for you. His refusal should have been sign enough, he knew the type of love you desired and his defiance was a display of the deprivation.

“I should have listened to everyone when they told me not to fall for you, fuck! Even your own best friend warned me! He always told me you’d never change your ways but he was wrong. You did! I just wasn’t worthy, apparently,”

“Y/N, I have a wife and our child to get back to. I’m not here to debate my choices with you!”

“Then why did you come?!,” spinning around to take in the sight of him. He always had tired eyes but they only seemed more exhausted as they ran over your features. You weren’t sure if it was due to him preparing for a child… or if it was the fact he always found you mentally and emotionally taxing; that any energy he spent dealing with you was quickly depleted.

“Because I felt bad for you!,” his own expression was an indication of his involuntary slip up, however, he figured he might as well drive the sword deeper, “I came here because I still ask Nicholas about you and he tells me you’re not doing well. I know it’s my fault but what can I do now, Y/N? I’m married- I have a daughter on the way, I-,”

“So you take my plans and execute them with another girl? Yes. That sure shows your sympathy for me, Sebastian!”

“What is the point in all this?,”

The million dollar question. You asked yourself this all the way over here. No answer you came up with sounded good enough and you know no matter what answer you give, he will find pitiful.

“Closure, I guess,” You shrugged, wrapping your cardigan tighter around you as you turn back to the sea. Standing ankle deep in the water, wishing to be carried away in the ebb and flow. You hated how he could easily make you cry.

“You took the life I wanted for us both and you gave to someone else,” now there was venom on your tongue, “You were my songbird… y-you were supposed to bring love and joy but come to find out you’re a fucking vulture hiding in the skin of a finch. You mimicked me until the hunger of your own selfishness took over! You picked at me and picked until you were full and sated then you left my fucking carcass to rot and you think you deserve the peace? The clear conscience that you have?!,”

You really didn’t mean to break. You came here to ask how he was and to congratulate him on his new life, but the more you think about it- you didn’t want to do that anymore. He took the heart of a hopeless romantic and squeezed it dry right in front of you. How do you congratulate that? When he drained the blood from you just to pump it into the life he has today, making it full and youthful?

It’s sickening, actually.

You turned once more to look at him and swallowed thickly.

“You are the bad omen in my life. There was no black cat, no broken mirror, no walking under a ladder. Just a 6’3 bloodsucker who carefully chooses his next conduit to drain until he gets what he wants,”

You began to walk past him, just wanting to leave. That want was quickly diminished when you come to an immediate halt, feeling his hand wrap around your forearm, the coolness of his ring seeping through a hole in your cardigan brought a type of burning you’ve never experienced.

“That’s not fair,” he hissed, eyes strong and dead set on yours, surprised with you snatching your arm out of his grasp.

“No, what’s not fair is Nicholas telling me you’re naming your daughter after the name I was going to give our child!,” you push him away, a fire burning under your flesh, the complete opposite of the cool air that rushed between the two of you, “What’s not fair is you giving your wife my dream home!,”

Another push.

“What’s not fair is you making me believe that what you have now could have been with me,”

Another one.

“What’s not fair is you leaving me in the middle of the night while I cried for you and never turning back!,”

Another.

“What’s not fair is you dedicating songs to your wife and all I ever fucking got was a half assed unreleased verse on a usb!”

One more.

“What’s not fucking fair, Noah!! Is you watching me fall in love with you knowing you never felt the same way. That I was just a place holder until the girl you truly wanted, wanted you back!!!”

Next thing you know he’s stumbling and falling into the crashing waves, sea foam in his hair and salt water burning his eyes.

“You can have it! Have my life!,” you bellow, watching as he tries to pull himself together.

“You’re the one that has to live the rest of your life knowing you’re so empty that you have to siphon others to feel joy, to feel anything!,” you take a few steps toward him, pointing a finger with so much anger it could kill, “You have nothing left to siphon from me, so good luck trying to figure everything else out on your own,”

“Y/N,” he just sat there, head hanging low while his arms rest on his knees.

You had nothing left to say, nothing left to hear, so you had no reason to stay.

“Y/N!,”

The sand sinking with each step, forcing you to use your arms, your anger promoting the momentum.

“Y/N! Fuck!,”

His voice became quieter the more distance you made.

His facade will crumble.

And you’ll find your birds by the sea. Reminding yourself over and over that you’ll get what you deserve out of this life.

“Someone will sing for me”

————————————————

I know it’s quick and short but I really missed writing and this is to help me get back into it after the long and unexpected hiatus!! Thank you all for your support and patience!!!🩵

tags: @dravenskye @babs-96 @tech-depression-inventory @magnificentstrawberryomen @mrscevans @tinyfairies @mxddymay @themorticians-world @rainy-darling @darknightstarryeyes @thisbicc @lilhobgobbler @lovethe-void @cind6547 @flowery-mess @widowsofchaos @abiomens @amelia-acero @collapsedglasshouses @poppy-in-the-woods @rostoken @dkxxm @fadingintothegrey @blairboo @lacy1986

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens one shot #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian fic #bad omens angst #bad omens fic #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian imagine

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miss-allsundays · 1 day ago

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i was kind of expecting it (because of the danny motta pandemic), but the amount of people that just. write off octavia as some sort of ungrateful brat is really pissing me off.

we, as the viewers, have a much broader understanding of stolas, his life, and his relationship with stella. we are also made to look at it in a positive light for stolas, because we are shown instances of stella and her brother being the terrible antagonists they were written to be.

and most importantly, we do not have an attachment to stolas and stella’s relationship.

octavia instead, has had her life recently upended, has seen her father do a 180 change and (in her eyes) ruin his whole relationship.

her parents are divorcing, and they’re going about it in the worst way possible. they keep badmouthing each other, and they are, quite frankly, very dismissive of octavia— stolas as well, even if he doesn’t mean it.

and then, her father risks his life for the guy he destroyed his family for. and she is left with her mother and uncle, who clearly don’t have her best interests in mind.

of course stolas deserves to be happy, and of course he can love both blitzø and octavia at the same time, but what a lot of people don’t get is that she is a hurt child, who is very lonely at the moment, and who has not had the time to process everything.

instead she has to watch her dad fawn over his affair partner, talk shit about her mother even after the divorce, and then he suddenly leaves and oh! he will be banned from their house for a hundred years.

of course she holds resentment over her father!! he hurt her, just as much as her mother hurt her!!

because yes, stolas’ hatred towards his ex-wife is justified, but he has subconsciously let that feeling cloud over his love for octavia.

for a child, seeing your parents go through a divorce is really fucking tough. even if their relationship wasn’t the best, even if the love wasn’t there anymore, your parents splitting up still feels like a point of no return. as someone who went through that, i cannot tell you how many nights i spent as a teen wishing my family would go back to normal, even if the rational part of me knew that their separation was a much better outcome, and that the normal i hoped for hadn’t been that in years.

their divorce is only a couple of months old, it isn’t nearly enough time to begin getting over it, especially if you don’t have a good outlet for your emotions— which octavia doesn’t have.

and as i’ve mentioned earlier, the fact that her parents hate each other so openly is also another big fucking problem!! it does nothing but make the child in between feel bad, because they feel guilty for still caring about both of them, like their love for their parents is wrong and tainted.

(again, stella is terrible, and we can all agree on that— but octavia doesn’t know the full extent of it!! sue just wants her family back!!)

i feel for stolas, and it’s so, so obvious that he loves his daughter more than anything in this world, but i also understand why octavia wants some distance from him.

even though he didn’t mean to, he failed to think of how his daughter was holding up, until it was too late.

(and to everyone that says octavia hates her dad, go fuck yourself and pick up a pair of glasses. there is a difference between being hurt by someone’s actions and hating them. she went to IMP to give him his meds. she saved stolitz + IMP from andrealphus. learn some media literacy before you speak thanksssssssss<3 )

#helluva boss #helluva boss sinsmas #octavia goetia #VIA GET BEHIND ME!!! I WILL NOT LET THEM GET TO YOU!!!!#i’ve said this before #but the people that hate on octavia have probably never had to go through being a child of divorce #this is not stolas critical btw. i love him and i want him to be really happy #just look at my banner. the moment the buckzo-goetia family becomes true i will die a happy woman.#i just wish people looked at octavia with a bit more empathy sigh #she is me and i am her i fear #i just have a couple more years of experience and hindsight

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theaceofarrows · 2 days ago

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Imagine for a moment that instead of taking them back to when their parents were in high school. The pocket watch took Red and Chloe back to the day Bridget lost the rest of her family.

And listening to the screams and devastation...Red has a moment of thinking ...oh heck...this is it....THIS what pushed my mother over the edge to be 'heartless'...It wasn't JUST the prank, it was LOSING HER HEART, as she lost the REST of our family....

I know I say this a lot, but I can't imagine all the emotions that Red would be going through in that moment when she sees that.

Red is the type of person who jumps straight in when she needs to defend someone (like she did for young Bridget when the VKs showed up in Life Is Sweeter), but it wouldn't be surprising if she froze before she could do much. It wouldn't be a stretch if Red thought the watch had messed something up and was somehow making her see things because what she's seeing can't be real, can it?

Her father is the dead King of Hearts who was whispered to have been killed by her mother. The dead King of Hearts, whose name she doesn't even know because it's outlawed from being spoken and is a crime punishable by death. That can't be her father, can it?

She is an only child. She doesn't and has never had brothers or sisters. Her mother is tight-lipped about the time before Red was born, yes, but surely, she would have mentioned if she had other children before Red that she so clearly loved. Wouldn't she?

I have no doubt that after a few moments of the initial shock wearing off that Red WOULD run at the guards to stop them, but by then, despite Red kicking, punching, and tackling as many guards as she can, even with Chloe using her sword to help, they're two teenagers against dozens of trained men, it's too late.

The man that's apparently Red's father has been knocked unconscious, surrounded by the bodies of men he's killed or injured. Her young siblings kick and scream and cry for their parents, as they're being carried away, but no matter how hard they try, they can't win against grown men. All of this happens while her mother is being held back by multiple guards, screaming, demanding, and pleading for them to release her family. It's no use.

When Auradon's guards have left with her family and Red sees her mom on her knees, sobbing, and absolutely broken, for the first time, Red understands the grief that's followed her mother for sixteen years.

Chloe is having so much conflict. She's spent her whole life knowing exactly who the good guys are and who the bad guys are. So now why does she feel sick to her stomach after witnessing what Auradon, the good guys just did to the bad guys? After witnessing something that her parents supported?

And all of this is within just the first hour. Overall, this would be so much heavier for both Red and Chloe than just ending up at Merlin Academy.

Sorry if this doesn't make sense with the way I worded it. My wording keeps coming off like a pov, and that KoH part was 100% just my headcanon. I once again got carried away.

Thank you so much for the ask! I definitely had a lot of thoughts on this.

#my asks #descendants #descendants rise of red #descendants red

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cheshiresense · 15 hours ago

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Your latest time-travel verse made me rewatch Kyoraku vs Starrk battle over Fake Katakura.

I have to say, over the years, I have forgotten how sad that battle is. The way Starrk mourns even Barragan's death and loses his (already small to begin with) desire to fight after it... The only reason the guy followed Aizen was because Aizen gave him... friends😭 A pack. The only reason he fought was to protect that pack. Doesn't matter if that pack consisted of some shady individuals. It was his. The first and only one he got in all his 1000+ years of existence. He had no desire to strike down his enemies - didn't kill Ukitake, proposed Love and Rose to retreat with their lives... In a way, he and Ichigo are very much alike in that sense.

Starrk was too honorable and naive and paid for that.

And Shunsui killed Lilynette😭 It is so heartrending when Starrk calls out to her with no answer...

Shunsui's philosophy, on the contrary, allows him "to be evil" in order to win. Yes, he does not like war, just like Starrk, but IMHO, "as soon as the war starts both sides are at fault" does not mean Shunsui is saying that both sides are wrong in the war and to not fight till you completely disable / kill your opponent. I think, to paraphrase, it means: "As soon as the war start, to win, both sides *will* have to be evil / There are no good people in a war because winning a war requires one to do evil things, so someone who were maybe a good person will have to become evil to win". This philosophy, basically, is "to unbound his hands" (as we say in our language, meaning when something is used to make a person free to act), a workaround that allows him to be ruthless to his opponents, despite his pacifistic nature.

Anyway, emotional rant over. I guess I just wanted to share my pain🥲 I just hope Shunsui killing a part of Starrk's soul and the only family he had will somehow be addressed between them in the future in your fic's universe. I think it's just too huge to leave out. And the only way I can see Starrk never saying anything at all to his Shunsui in TYBW timeline - is because he is THAT much of a sucker for pain and/or THAT much desperate for a genuine connection with somebody.

Starrk is just a really tragic character with a really tragic arc, canonically he was never meant to be saved or have a chance at something better.

I don't know if I'd call him particularly honourable, if only because that doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd really think about and adhere to as a Hollow who'd spent his whole life in a place like Hueco Mundo, not in the same way a Shinigami would. I think it was more that he just didn't want to kill anyone when he'd already killed so many without ever having a choice in the matter, and now that he did, he didn't want to keep doing that if he didn't absolutely have to. He was definitely a bit naive about it because it was war, and he was up against one of the most powerful and ruthless Shinigami in existence. The moment he decided to hold back, he was destined to lose.

For Shunsui, I agree, he believes that to win a war, people have to get their hands dirty, and you can't do that and still remain "good". I also think he thinks that it's disrespectful to not do everything in his power to win, because even if that means throwing away his honour, to do anything less means risking the lives of those he's fighting that war for.

Which ties into why I personally think Starrk doesn't really blame Shunsui for Lilynette's death. I think Starrk is smart enough and similar enough to Shunsui to understand him. And why blame Shunsui when he can blame himself? He's the one who held back from the start, he didn't fight as hard as he could, he even had the chance to kill Shunsui if he'd just gone down to finish the job after shooting him instead of just backing off after disabling him, or he could've even shot him somewhere more leathal like the back of the head instead of the shoulder/chest, because at their level, which Shinigami or Hollow wouldn't survive a simple injury like that? He would've also been able to sense full well that Shunsui's reiatsu signature hadn't disappeared. So that choice is on him, and he paid for it with Lilynette's life.

I also think Starrk didn't have much conviction or resolve, I mean I don't think most of the Espada really believed in Aizen's cause, they just followed him for more power or because Aizen tricked them or forced them, and prob with a side of hypnosis to pave the way. So Starrk didn't even have anything concrete to believe in and fight for aside from a debt he felt he had to repay, and that was quickly wearing away when he saw how Aizen didn't give a shit about them.

So overall, he went into battle against Shunsui without any desire to fight or kill because he thought he didn't really have anything he wanted enough to fight for, right up until he lost Lilynette and realized that yeah he did have something precious to lose after all. In contrast, Shunsui was fighting for Soul Society and to protect his fellow Shinigami, and at the time, he definitely understood that far better than Starrk did.

If Starrk had survived, I think he would've understood that too, plus he just doesn't have the kind of temper that lashes out and casts blame on others due to excess emotion; rather, he has the sort of analytical mind to comprehend the cause and effect of things pretty instantly. That would all play a big part in why he wouldn't blame Shunsui for doing what he had to do to take Starrk out. He and Lilynette were one, Shunsui would've had to kill both of them sooner or later, otherwise he might as well lie down and give up, Starrk wasn't exactly an opponent he could take it easy with.

In the time travel verse here, Idk if I'd make it a particularly huge thing, because for Starrk it's been like 10+ years, I imagine he's laid that ghost to rest a long time ago even if the loss still hurts sometimes, plus it's not TBTP!Shunsui who killed her, and i think he would've hashed out the issue with TYBW!Shunsui already at the beginning. Of course, TBTP!Shunsui is bound to find out about it eventually, which could be interesting to poke at.

But in Take What's Broken (Make It Whole), it'll definitely come up sooner or later. Even if Starrk doesn't bring it up first, Shunsui will, and even if there's no blame, I imagine they would at least have to talk about it going forward.

#coyote starrk #bleach #kyouraku shunsui #shunstarrk #ichigo & starrk time travel verse #meta

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akimoroll · 24 hours ago

Text

nightfall.

yoichi nagumo x fem reader—wc 2.2k—part of a series on ao3—college/uni au. fwb. fluff/smut. mdni.

n/a: continuation of this. if you’re an art student reading this, i apologize!! i know nothing about art school (cries) /// this feels like a filler episode tbh kinda boring and uneventful to me at least lmao so sorry in advance

Tutoring sessions with Nagumo are over and you haven't seen him for over two weeks because of exams. He messaged you a few times during evenings for the first few days but other than that, it was complete utter silence from him. You have gotten used to his presence and it did bother you how quiet he has been. But you weren’t the type to text first, you didn’t even like texting at all. He was being distant so you thought, maybe this was his way of showing push.

Meanwhile, Nagumo was busy staying up in the late hours of the night meeting deadlines, and dealing with the weighty pressure and vulnerability of critiques. But other than that, he was pretty much holed up in his room with a dark cloud of stress over his head. He might have even lost a bit of weight too.

“Do you wanna go see a movie with me after midterms?” He asked you last time you saw each other, to which you said yes. Now that exams are over, he hasn’t made contact yet, not that you were eagerly waiting for his message or anything… Of course not. That’s silly, right?

But you do miss him… Maybe a little bit. “Just his face,” you mused, downplaying whatever it was you were feeling.

As you unlocked your phone, you pursed your lips and went to Instagram. You tried searching for his name (and nickname) but couldn’t find anything. As frustration built up, you turned to your roommate who had just entered the room and asked for her help.

His username had 9 underscores as if he didn’t want to be found. But weirdly enough, for a normal college dude, slash frat boy, slash art student that posted normal college stuff, he had a lot of followers. The accounts he followed were mostly girls, but one stood out—a private account with no display photo. 1 follower, 1 following and hundreds of posts.

Who could that be? You were curious for a hot minute but saw a really cute selfie of him and spent a good chunk of time staring at it. Before you knew it, you had burned the next hours making folders and meticulously sorting the pictures you’ve saved, just as you would with your trading cards collection.

///

The gentle knocking from the door startled you from your sleep. The room was already bright and your roommate had left. Glancing at the bright screen of your phone, you winced before getting up. It’s 9 past 7.

As soon as you opened the door, Nagumo rushed in without a word and immediately began kissing you. He was unusually quiet, almost eerily so, while his hands slipped under your shirt and roamed the skin of your back. You couldn’t say a word with the way he was practically eating your face. He seemed much like a man who had been walking for hours in the scorching heat, chasing you like a tall glass of cold water. He was parched.

He led you to your corner of the room and onto your bed. His body hovering over yours, lips not letting you go. Moments later, you were already naked under him. His hands explored places he hadn’t touched before, his tongue teased the most sensitive spots, turning you into a soaked mess.

He kissed you deeply before letting you go, only to flip you on your stomach with ease. The hairs on the skin of your back raised when his lips grazed your nape, gently trailing their way down your spine. Then he slowly inserted a finger and a few moments later, he added another. His fingers knuckles deep inside you.

There was nothing but the sound of your quiet whimpers and the wet sounds of his kisses as he began preparing you for something else, something that might be too much, something you have found yourself anticipating for. You couldn’t help but moan his name.

“Yoichi…”

Hearing this, he paused, leaving you so hot and bothered. As you waited for what’s to come next, you felt movement behind you and heard fabric rustling—he’s slipping out of his boxers.

He began rubbing his tip to your wet folds as he spread your cheeks wide open, smearing and mixing his and your wetness all over, with his fingers digging the flesh of your ass. Everything was happening way too fast. It felt conflicting but you knew deep down you didn’t want him to stop.

Softly, tenderly, he pushed himself in and out of you. He’s fucking you slowly with your name rolling so sweetly on his tongue like honey—again and again and again.

“Look at you… such a good girl.” He cooed, his voice airy with his lips over your ear. His warmth reached the skin of your back, enveloping you as he rested his whole body on top of you with your face buried in the pillow.

“Lift your hips a little...”

“There you go. Just like that.”

“Fuck…you feel so good.”

And he feels so good too. He kept murmuring your name as he fucks you lazily, your eyes rolling back every time he pushes himself balls deep into you. He was making a mess out of you, your juices dripping down on your clean sheets. Suddenly you didn’t care about getting your bed dirty anymore.

One of his hands began snaking towards your tits, giving it a soft squeeze before lifting your face by the jaw, his two fingers coaxing your lips to open.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered before slowly turning your head so you could face him. You kept your eyes closed as you reluctantly opened your mouth, his tattooed fingers forcing you to taste yourself, “See how good you taste?”

“Open your eyes…look at me.” he murmured, giving each of your eyes a cute kiss before reaching down with his other hand, rubbing slow circles on your clit, just enough pressure to make you squirm under him.

Him seeing you so fucked out and breathless so early in the morning made him fuck you a little faster. And then a little harder. Your whimpery sobs became louder as he continued to thrust himself into you from the back.

“You close? You’re squeezing me.”

“I know you missed me. Let’s take our time, hm?”

“Come on, open your eyes.”

“Look at me.”

“Wake up.”

Wake up?

Your eyes shot up, realizing you had fallen asleep while waiting for him at a diner near campus. You agreed to have brunch together when he finally called in the morning.

That’s what you get when you stay up way too late looking at his pictures. But none of that matters now. Bewildered, you mused, “Wet dreams? Here? Of all places?”

“Falling asleep in public is so unlike you. Are you okay?” He smirked, voice laced with teasing as he sat across from you.

You exhaled deeply as you hid your flushed face with your hands. You couldn’t dare to look at him.

He tilted his head to the side, now with concern, he asked, “Looks like you stayed up late last night. I thought exams were over?”

“Yes, it is over,” you responded immediately. With your voice still raspy, you snapped at him, “I fell asleep because…I waited too long.”

He scoffed lightheartedly before leaning closer to you with a smug grin on his face, “Someone’s excited to see me. I’m not even late.”

You looked at him after checking the time. Frowning from grogginess, you asked nicely, “Can you go ahead and order us food? I can’t form a single thought.”

He looked at you for a moment and noticed how your forehead was glistening with your face all red, he asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get takeout and eat someplace else if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine, Nagumo. Please, just order the food.”

///

You continued eating your meal in complete silence, embarrassment still lingering in your mind. Nagumo, on the other hand, kept glancing at you with concern. Eventually, he asked, “So… Friday, movies, right? Unless you have something else in mind?”

“What? I’m not thinking about anything else,” you retorted after a slight flinch.

He responded with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out your mood, “Okay…? I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Sure,” you replied way too quickly, voice low as you kept your eyes to your food.

He watched you, observing and wondering why you were being quiet and wouldn’t meet his gaze. You typically spoke too little and had a habit of staring. But you were acting strange, almost defensive, like you were hiding something. Reminiscent of that time when you had a misunderstanding, moments before he kissed you for the first time.

“Hey, be a good girl and quit picking at your food,” He teased, attempting to lift the mood and ease you into talking more.

But “good girl” was all you heard. You abruptly locked eyes as you involuntarily inhaled your food, getting it stuck in your throat. He quickly handed you a drink, worry evident on his face while you uncontrollably coughed.

After chugging the drink to its final drop and slamming the glass on the table with more force than necessary, you inhaled deeply and finally spoke, “Never say that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips, he asked, “Not say what?”

“That. What you just said.”

“Not…pick at your food?”

“No,” you groaned, opening your mouth just to close it again as your cheeks started to heat up once more. You collected yourself as you continued, “Nevermind.”

He caught your reaction right away. The small smile he was holding turned into a full blown grin, he teased, “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” you retorted with a defensive hiss.

“Nothing,” he breathed deeply and shifted his gaze out the glass window, pausing before speaking again, “You got me worried there. But it looks like your other personality has come out to play today and taught me something new.”

“If you don’t stop bringing that up, I’ll leave right now,” You exclaimed as you reached for your bag.

He snickered and stood up, sliding his food next to yours and took a seat beside you to block you from leaving. He gently nudged his arm against yours, “Oh come on, we just got here.”

You answered him with a mere eye roll and turned away from him to gaze out the window.

“Hey,” He ran his fingers through your hair, twirling at the tips, his voice gentle, “Look at me.”

You quickly turned to his direction to warn him time and time again to stop touching you unexpectedly. However, his lips touched your cheek, making you blush once again. He smirked, enjoying how endearing you are and wanting to continue stirring your flustered state, he whispered, “I missed you.”

You took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the smile that threatened to come out as you spoke up, your voice softer than intended, “Nagumo, I told you not to touch me so suddenly.”

He nodded and continued eating as if nothing happened. Out of curiosity, he asked, “Why were you up so late last night anyway? Thought you have schedules and stuff.”

As you calmed down, you answered honestly, “I was feeling restless.”

He chuckled, “Bet you were thinking of me.”

Your bluntness continued as you went back to eating as well, “Yes, but also, no. I was actually wondering why there are so many underscores in your username. It seems quite inefficient for typing. Also, the topless pics, seriously? Have some decorum. And while we are on the subject of decorum, apart from your friends, you only follow people from the opposite sex. What’s up with that?”

Like always, he was surprised and slightly taken aback by your honesty but the thought of you stalking his socials made him nearly choke on his food. You had always been distant, didn’t ask questions about himself, he was the one constantly reaching out. He had gotten used to you not paying much attention to him, just hanging out with you was enough for him. So hearing everything and you being so blunt about it, made him feel things.

He teased with an accusatory tone, “Oh, so you were stalking me. You could’ve just messaged me and told me you miss me, you know?”

You retorted, “Why would I? That’s exactly what you want me to do.”

He pressed further, grinning, “So you did miss me.”

“I didn’t say that,” you stubbornly denied, your voice sounding firm.

“Why were you looking me up then?” He inquired, his tone laced with intrigue.

You pondered for a good while, carefully choosing the right words before responding, “You need to know your opponent in order to defeat them, correct?”

He smirked, a hint of challenge in his voice as he rested his cheek on his palm, observing you, “This is all just a game to you, hm?”

You mirrored him, speaking calmly, “I could say the same about you.”

He nodded, suppressing a chuckle by smiling, “Well played, but you’re not supposed to show your hand to me.”

You smiled back, “What makes you think I’ve shown you everything?”

#nagumo x reader #nagumo yoichi x reader #nagumo yoichi x you #nagumo x you #nagumo yoichi fanfic #nagumo yoichi #nagumo #sakamoto days fanfic #🕷️.fic—nagumo #nagumo smut

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