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lesbian-dp · 5 years ago

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Sunny Disposition

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,050

Warnings: Frustration, “one-night-stand”, slight strip tease, daddy kink, strap on sex, rough sex (at least I think it is lol), marking, squirting, unable to walk afterwards. Think that's it.

Request: Yee.

Summary: Natasha Romanoff: The Greatest Stress Relief Known To Man.

A/N: This wasn't the easiest thing to write, ngl. Once again. Don't know how good it is. But I think its p okay.

18+ ONLY.

You were gonna kill them.

You were literally gonna kill them.

The mission had been a ‘Grade A’ fuck up. And it was all thanks to Steve, the apparent self-declared “leader” of the team. Bucky, one of the “best assassins the world gas ever saw”. And Clint, “expert marksman”. Right now, they were nothing but a bunch of world-class jokes, to you.

They had managed to fuck up the mission within thirty seconds, alone. And now here you were, left replaying their mistakes, over and over again in your head, growing angrier by the second.

You were muttering under your breath to yourself, and you unconsciously knew that, as you braced yourself over the sink. Peering out the window above it, into the night sky, dusted with the bright lights of New York City.

“I take it the mission didn’t go well then.” A voice, stating rather than asking, behind you caused you to jostle.

Turning you saw Natasha standing there in a pair of tight shorts and a t-shirt. Her arms crossed over her chest, and an eyebrow raised in a concerned question.

You gave a deep sigh. “I guess you could say that.”

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked.

You took a minute, thinking about your response, and what you truly wanted right now.

“Yes and no. I. Ugh!” you groaned loudly, Natasha raising her eyebrows at your small outburst, “I want to rant about it. But I also want to stop thinking about it... does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense.”

A sigh left you, thankful that you had managed to word your feelings correctly, and that Natasha understood you.

“You wanna know how I kill two birds with one stone?”

“Please,” you almost begged.

“I find a “distraction”. One that will also help get rid of my frustrations.”

You studied her, and her words for a few seconds.

“What kind of “distraction”?” you asked slowly.

“Sex.”

“What?”

***

“You aren’t really suggesting this, are you?”

Your arms were crossed over your chest, as you watched Natasha with wary eyes. The red-head had her hands upon her hips, no less confident than her usual self.

“Of course I am.”

“Why?”

“You’re a friend in need. You’re hot. And-“ She smirked. “- I can just tell you’re a great fuck.”

“Do you “help” any of your other friends like this?”

“Nope. You’re the first one.”

“Why me?”

She shrugged gently. “You’re special.”

You took a good few long moments, thinking it through.

“It would just be this once?”

“Whatever you want,” she shook her head softly, edging her way closer to you. You doing the same.

“No one knows?”

“No one.”

You leaned in, clasping her soft lips between yours.

The feeling was like nothing you expected.

You had kissed people before, sure. But never Natasha.

Fuck. She was a good kisser.

She caressed your lips like she had thoroughly studied them. Somehow, she knew them. Better than you even did.

You didn’t want it to stop.

***

“You don’t know know what you’re getting yourself into, do you?”

“Hopefully something that will wreck me.”

“Oh, I’ll wreck you alright.” Trapping Natasha in on the bed, with your arms on either side of her, you leaned in closer to her face. “I’ll wreck you for anyone else.”

“Promises. Promises.” She smiled, lightly shaking her face in front of yours, teasingly.

You smirked at her reaction. You couldn't wait to make her weep.

You removed yourself, going back to standing in front of her.

“Strip.”

Was you one-word command. And she heeds it, almost immediately.

You watched as Natasha stripped her clothes off, piece by piece. Cocking her hips side to side, as she pulled her shirt off. Her fingers teasing at the waistband of her tight as all hell shorts, before they trailed up the sides of her naked torso. Moving to grip at the swells of her breasts. You could see how turned on she was, her nipples hard enough to rival diamonds.

Taking a step forward, you yanked down Natasha’s shorts, in one quick motion.

Moving closer to her face, you whispered, “I said ‘strip’.”

She smiled at you, moving her lips over yours, making sure that she kept them only a hair away from yours. Just to tease you.

She really should know better.

You played up to her though. Letting her think that you were just about to go in for the kiss, only for her to most likely pull away from you at the last minute. But instead, you grabbed her hips and threw her onto the bed. Making her yelp out in surprise.

“You're such a little slut,” you said offhandedly, noticing that she liked it, by the way her pupils dilated further, and her breathing picked up a little. “No underwear,” you noted, as you unbuckled your belt, and kicking off your shoes. Glancing down to said area, that was slightly out of your view, thanks to Natasha’s bent legs.

Natasha bit her lip, watching you undress yourself, too.

“I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you?” Now naked as the day you were born, you watched as she nodded her head, eyes begging, and leaning forward. Hoping to entice you onto the bed.

It worked.

You chuckled. Gently separating her legs, so that you could lay between them, your chest against hers as you spoke again, “You’re absolutely roaring for it, aren't you, baby?”

Natasha gave you a high-pitched hum in return.

“Uh hu, baby. You gotta use your words with me.”

“Yes, Y/N.”

“You can do better that.”

“Yes, please. I want you. I need you. Please fuck me in any way you want to, Y/N. Break me, daddy.”

Your eyes grew wide, how was it that this gorgeous woman below you, seemingly knew all of your kinks?

Natasha let out a surprised noise, as you crushed your lips against hers. Pulling away, biting her bottom lip as you did. Making her wrap her legs around your waist tighter.

“Oh God, sugar. You’re not gonna know what’s hit you.”

Grabbing the strap from your bedside table, you swiftly put it on. Loving the way Natasha near admired you as you did so. Her chest heaving with every breath she took.

You braced yourself above Natasha again, one hand gripping a handful of her soft red locks, and her other pressing the tip of the toy against her soaked entrance.

You kissed along the side of her face, asking in a whisper, “This is gonna go hard and fast. Is that okay, baby?”

“Please just fuck me, Y/N,” Natasha begged.

With a smirk you pushed all the way into her, relishing in her loud, deep moan, until you had bottomed out.

Yeah. You were gonna enjoy this.

***

The smell of sex filled the room, as you pounded Natasha through her seventh orgasm. Her cries becoming more ragged, thanks to her scratchy throat.

Your hands were close to white as you held Natasha’s hands in yours, and high above her head. Her legs were up, and hooked over your shoulders, as you fucked into her. Her soft, wet core was red with the intensity of your thrusts. You knew it was probably sore for her. But you also knew that she wanted you to continue fucking her.

“You sure you’re okay? Can you still take this?”

“If you stop fucking me like this, I swear, I’ll kick your ass,” Natasha panted, moans.

That was all you needed to hear, before you reverted back into your rough self.

Your teeth bit at the side of her jaw, before you sucked a dark mark onto her smooth, milky skin.

“What do you need, honey? Tell me what you need.”

“I.” A gasp for breath. “I need... I need you to. To- “ A chesty moan. “To tough me.”

“You want me to touch you?” You cocked your eyebrow at her. Removing your hands from hers. You placed them on her breasts, massaging them, and her nipples between your fingers. “You want me to touch you here?”

“Yes!” she cried out.

Her hand flew down to rub harshly at her red, abused clit.

She was close to sobbing, without the trace of tears, when she spoke next.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!”

“Then come for me, baby.” You dedicated to be nice and help her by pounding onto her, at a harsher pace. “Come for daddy.”

That was the final straw. The last tether holding her from the pleasure you had been gifting her with the whole night.

***

“This is the last one, Y/N. I can’t take anymore.”

You nodded, bringing Natasha’s lips into yet another bruising kiss.

Your grip on Natasha’s hips was so hard, that you left bruises in their wake. Bite marks, and love bites littered all over her neck, jaw, shoulders, and upper chest. The same patterns painted the inside of Natasha’s soaked thighs. Bruises of your handprints, and the red marks your fingers left from gripping the plumb area, also adorned her perfect body.

“How do you, somehow, look so much better when I mark you up?”

“It’s because they belong on me,” Natasha could hardly rasp out, with her pants for breath, and the raspiness of her throat, from all that screaming and moaning.

A low groan sounded from somewhere deep in your stomach. From your position on your knees above her, you fucked into her harder, now gripping her hips like a vice. You awaited the comments from Natasha the next day, about her bones being bruised.

Natasha gripped the pillow under her head, as the headboard hammered against the wall. Her legs tightened around you, like a boa constrictor would its prey. She was close.

You could hardly pull the strap from her, because of the tightness of her core and legs around you. So instead you resorted yo grinding deep inside of her, the coarseness of the harness rubbing against her sensitive clit. Plunging her deep into her ninth, and final orgasm of the night.

The sheets were soaked by the end of it, which could only mean one thing.

“Huh,” you chuckled breathlessly, “Didn’t know you were a squirter.”

“Neither did I,” Natasha panted, wiping at her sweat covered forehead.

“Was that your first time?” She nodded. You were shocked, to say the least. With the amount of sex you assumed Natasha had, and how well she had taken your frustrations that night. How had she never squirted before? But then you were overtaken with a sense of smug pride.

Natasha rolled her eyes at you.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but I can feel the cockiness radiating off of you.”

“That may just be the strap,” you joked, glancing down at the thick toy still deep inside the red-head.

She rolled her eyes at you again, before she let out a sudden whimper, as you removed it from her.

“Do you need anything?” you asked after taking the strap off, and it was now thrown haphazardly on the floor, for cleaning the next day. “A water?”

Natasha shook her head, “No. Just. Just hold me?”

“Whatever you want.”

And you flopped down beside her, bringing her into your arms, and letting her rest her head upon your chest. Mourning soft words into her damp, sex mused hair.

Within minutes, she was asleep. And you were well on your way in following her.

This was exactly what you needed.

Her.

You needed her.

And suddenly. You didn’t want this to be the only time.

***

You awoke the next day, by the beautiful, still naked, and heavily marked red-head, shaking you awake.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

You ‘humphed’. “What?”

“I can’t walk.”

You opened your eyes at that, peering at her sleepily, with questioning eyes.

“What do you mean, you ‘can’t walk’?”

“I. Can’t. Walk,” she said slowly. “My legs are dead. And I’m hungry.”

Natasha slapped your chest playfully, as you chuckled to yourself.

“Sorry about that. I’m sure they’ll be alright soon enough. Do you want me to get you some food?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Watching you as you sat up. “I need the energy, for when we do that again.”

You smiled at her over your shoulder.

Yeah. You were sure you we’re gonna fall for this woman.

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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slashingdisneypasta · 5 years ago

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Horror Villain x Reader || Drabbles

Plot: Having the kid of a Slasher. These have vastly different blurbs though so they have lil’ titles!

Includes: Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers

Warnings: Freddy’s one includes the kidnapping of a child by their father (A child killer, to boot). Other then that, what can I say? This is Slasher fanfiction, Freddy is himself. Michael’s is pretty humorous though... :D

Notes:

I really wanna build on these some more! I plans to write a oneshot where Michael and reader eventually get ‘back together’ sort of? And a prequal to Freddy’s where Maggie visits her half brother and Luke questions her and reader about their father.

Note: Freddy is going to call you mummy if you are woman, man, or gender neutral. And I’m going to spell it the American way because it just seems more fetishized that way and more like the wrapped up Egyptian dead people the English way. I am not sure how you would accidentally have his child if you have a penis, but who knows in this universe.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

~~~

Freddy Krueger: Luke // ‘Protecting your child from his father’

“Hey! How are you?” I call, breathless to the receptionist -Judy, - sitting in school office. She looks up and a haze of confusions crosses her pretty green eyes, and I try not to worry. There could be any reasin this woman is confused to see me that is unrelated to my son’s whereabouts. Deciding not to wait for her to tell me how she is because the anxiety in me clenches around my heart like a boa constrictor, I paste on a bigger smile ask. “Where’s Luke? He didn’t come out when the bell went.”

Maybe he’s in the sick bay, or… I don’t know. What other acceptable reason could there be that my son is not here with me?

Don’t think like that.

My smile must look stiff and sharp at this point, because Judy starts very slowly. Cautious. “… Hi-His Dad picked him up, Miss L/N.”

Dad? My nose scrunches up in utter confusion. I’m absolutely certain that I had Bradley taken off the register as Luke’s secondary emergency contact- I stood right here with this woman for half an hour figuring out how to do that. And besides, why would my ex-husband pick up my son from school and not tell me? Luke doesn’t have a-

His… his Dad? Freddy couldn’t have. I’ve been giving Luke Hypnocil pills since he could take them, crushing them every night and stirring the dust into his dinner. I haven’t heard any signs of Freddy for 8 years and a couple months. Let’s set aside that crazy, ridiculous theory for now. Because its impossible! Even if he did want to do something with Luke, he would try to get to him through his dreams, yes? It would be too risky to come on out here and take him from school. That’s crazy.

“What?” Where is my goddamn son? Who took him?

“U-um, uh. A uh, ‘Fredrick Krueger’ took him about an hour ago. His name was in the system, and they looked a bit alike in the eyes, s-so I-we just assumed it was okay.”

For a moment I think I’m going to die on the spot. Then I spit out. “Is this a joke?!”

Its too horrible, too unthinkable to be true. I’ll say it again; I haven’t heard from Freddy in nearly a fucking decade, and that’s the way I was hoping it would stay. What is this.

“N-No, Miss L/N.”

“Did he say where they were going? Did Luke say anything?” My baby. Starting to breathe heavily now from the effort of staying calm and thinking too fast for a clue as to where my son is and what the hell is going on. Did this chick even look at Freddy’s face?! This school is just handing babies over to suspicious men who look like they should be in the burn ward of the intensive care unit?!

“Miss L/N- “This woman is scared, I know, and anxious as she looks with wide eyes all around me instead of at my eyes but she’s really grating on my nerves. A maniac has my son and she is going to give me all the information she has.

“Do you remember your dreams last night? Or the last couple nights?” That’s how assume Freddy got in the system, manipulated Judith here to do it for him. Maybe he left a clue.

“My- my dreams? Um-mm, well I… “My hand slams down on the bench between us so hard the pen attached to a string attached to the early leavers clipboard jumps up a little. My hand shakes, and as she quickly recalls her dream I read through the most recent entries on the board for the early leavers. Right at the bottom, in tiny handwriting that does not belong to Luke is the name Luke Krueger under student and ‘Doctors appointment’ under ‘Reason for leaving’, and a smiley face. I take a deep breath and turn back to Judy with eyes of molten lava. She fumbles with her glasses, on a string around her neck. “I-I remember a junk yard in a couple… “That’s it.

Already flying to the door, I call back. “Have some child’s school exit forms ready for me tomorrow Judy; Goodbye.” And promptly, I fling the door open and run for hell and leather for my car.

~~~

“LUKE!” I scream into the old junk yard, hands shaking but courage as strong as an ox. Nothing, not even death itself will stop me from saving my kid. Looking around every corner and trying to listen to any sound over the loud beating of my heart in my ears, I speed walk around, heading towards the burnt down old shed, yelling for Luke every 2 seconds because I’m deluded into thinking any second he might hear e, and come running out safe to me. When the horrible thing, the shed, comes into view, I feel sick. Its still burnt up, and rust litters the ground around its four walls but its standing.

They’ll be in there.

Forcing myself ahead, because I never wanted to see this, the place Freddy was killed -Because it’s something so terrible. Not because I give a fuck about what happened to Freddy, - I open the door and immediately there they are. It takes me a second to catch my bearing’s, because this place has such an awful feeling and I’ve never been in a situation like this and I don’t know what to do, and because theirs a child killer with his filthy hand on my 7 year old son’s shoulder.

“Luke?” My eyes soften as soon as they find his. Glancing from him to Freddy’s other hand to see if he has a weapon, especially that glove to find nothing, and back to him, I gesture for my him to come here. “Come over here, baby. Its okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, just frowns and whimpers, looking wearily up at the man who’s holding onto him and for an awful second I think Freddy’s going to pull a fast one on us and pull out a razor or something… but then one finger at a time he lets go of Luke and Luke rushes to me so fast that the force pushes me back a little when he reaches me, wrapping his little arms around my waist and digging his face, shaking so I’m well aware that he’s crying now, into my stomach. I drop to my knees and look him over thoroughly, searching for any indications that this ‘doctors’ appointment’ that he was taken for occurred, but theirs nothing.

A sick taste wells up in my throat as I realise this, and as Luke burrows into me again for more hugs and I wrap my arms around him I look back to the problem. “What-What’s this doctor’s appointment I read about? Just a cover?”

“Not in the slightest! But I thought we should probably wait for you before starting… Mommy. I got us a good deal- family pack!” With that, Freddy takes out a scalpel and grins madly. I tighten my grip on Luke. “Who should go first, eh?”

“Stay the fuck back.”

“Oh, I think not!” I gently tug Luke back as Freddy advances, wondering if it would be smart to make any sudden moves right now.

“I called the police!” God, I wish I had now. But I was too focused on getting here before something awful happened that I…

Forgot.

Oh my god.

He stops coming towards us, but then an evil, knowing smile creeps across his mouth. He tilts his head, calling my bluff. “No, you didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah I did!” So, I’m buying for time. Main objective: Save Luke. Leverage: Me. Freddy’s a being made completely up on vengefulness and anger at this point, and I escaped him. He hates that.

Stroking the back of Lukes head with my thumb in thought, I know what I have to do and make like him giving him a little, worried head kiss- but really whisper to him that our car’s in the carpark and my phone is in the passenger seat. He clutches me tighter. Oh, baby… I wish I could come with you.

“You called nobody. Don’t try to bullshit Daddy. Now, I think our little bundle of joy should go first, more fun for me! Little blast from the past, ey?” He takes another step towards us, causing me to jolt back violently from fear, because I’m so close to saving Luke and if Freddy makes any sudden movements, we both might be done for, and tats just unacceptable. That scalpel is unnecessarily big. Where the hell did he get a scalpel that big?! What is it for? Crocodile surgery?!

Luckily, we’re closer to the door then Freddy is -oopsie made on his part,- so when I let go of Luke he goes straight out the door and before Freddy can reach the door and slip out after him, and push myself hard against the door, slamming it closed. For a second everything is still, which is a scary thing when it comes to this killer, and I just sit there on the ground and watch his scary face just be still.

His eyes, though, expressive as they are, reveal how utterly furious he is.

Then slowly he looks down his chest at me, aiming that mad anger at me as his shaking hand grips the weapon so tightly that his knuckles go absolutely white. “You bitch.”

Michael Myers (RZ): Rachael // ‘Visitation’

“Morning Rache!” I exclaim, setting down cheerily on my 12-year-old’s bed as golden early morning light slips through her purple curtains and leaves stripes on my thighs. “It’s Sunday!”

“Why does it always have to be so early with him? Its not church.” She informs me, sleep thick in her voice as she pulls the doona up over her head and rolls over so her back is to me.

“He thinks very highly of himself.” That or this is when visiting hours are.

“I see that.”

“So… “Like I always do on Sunday, I put pluck the blanket away from her face to see her eyes are open and she’s already fully awake. She always is on Sunday morning, it’s because of what she knows is coming. I tuck some of her hair behind her early, and speak gently now, like always. “You wanna go see your Dad?” It always, always, always needs to be her choice. She always says yes, though.

For a moment this time, she pauses. Then deeply rolls her eyes and flicks the blanket back up over her face. “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright. We’ll head off in half an hour, then. Oh- maybe you can tell him about the awkward you got!” I exclaim, brightening immediately because my baby is so smart! Captain of her class, and she just got an award for doing well in maths! Her teacher even told me at parent-teacher interviews that she’s getting the work so much easier than any of the other students. This has been the same since she started Elementary school. Dunno where she got those brains from, but I like to believe if it’s me and not Michael. And I am so proud of her.

“Yeah, I will. Can you get out now so I can get changed, parent?”

“Whatever!” I exclaim cheerfully, like the immature one between us two that I am as I leave the room and shit the door behind me, heading to make her toast. She is more like Michael, in that regard. So focused and serious- I, on the other hand, have Goldfish brain.

Which makes a lot of sense when I ask myself ‘What made you think fucking the Shape of Haddonfield was okay?’ because then I remember ‘Big man, strong hands, big dick’ and I remember.

I’m a moron. Was, a horny moron. But no more! I am a mother now, and mothers don’t get horny! No, no. Ahahaha.

… But that doesn’t mean I regret having Rachael. No fucking way. She’s the mother-fucking light of my life, and I’ll have sex with Michael a thousand more times if that’s what it would take to keep her.

Wait, that doesn’t sound right.

… Ah, oh well. Toast!

~~~

When we get to Michael’s cell, Rachael goes straight over to the door and uses her foot to move the little stepping stool they keep right there, specially for her -well, I bought it and made them keep it there, but that’s just semantics,- and hops on so she can peer through the window to her father. I stay back a few feet with Dr Loomis, my jacket hung over my crossed arms. Because I don’t have anything in common with Sam Loomis at all, as we have previously discovered on these visits, I turn bluntly to him and ask, shamelessly. “So, how’s he going Doc?” Even though Michael’s condition hasn’t changed since he was six, that is what I ask.

Loomis offers me a crooked, humourless grin and explains that nothing has changed, but he did make Rachael a new mask. “Oh, that’s nice.” I say, although really, don’t think that’s nice. Does Michael think I have endless wall space for these things? I don’t want my home to look like his sanatorium cell. I have taste!

Hey, don’t judge me. The only way I can get through these visits is by being sarcastic and making jokes to myself.

And to Loomis, but he doesn’t really like me.

Probably because I make sarcastic jokes about his most dangerous patient.

Eh, oh well.

I turn back to Rachael to see her holding up her award to the window so Michael can read it, and after I lean to the left a bit to see inside the cell I see that he is doing so. He’s just sitting in his dressing gown on a desk chair at the other side of his cell- no wonder Rachael has to talk loudly!

He communicates through head shakes and nods, and sometimes even writes on a white board he always has set on his big -big mannnnnn. Oh jeez, the thirst is still strong, despite him now being an irritating part of my life… I have to get up at the ungodly hour of nine on a Sunday for this. Just to get a new stupid mask and stand back here with Doctor humourless, - lap, which I do concede, is pretty sweet. He doesn’t communicate that way to anyone else, as Loomis told me, except for with her.

Visitation usually lasts an hour and half, if Michael’s feeling ‘chatty’, And he definitely is today, so our visit bleeds into breakfast time so we join him -without a door between us and him,- for breakfast in the cafeteria. Rachael and I sit on one side and Michael and Loomis sit on the other. Mostly Rachael and I chat during this time, but Rachael looks to her father every now and then for his reaction.

“Hey mum, do you want the last pancake?” Rachael asks, eyeing the last fluffy breakfast food just as hungrily as Michael just after Dr Loomis gets up to go check quickly on another patient, leaving us as a ‘family’ for a little bit.

I pat my tummy. “Naw, I’m stuffed! Why don’t you and your dad share it.”

A little smile breaks across her little face, making me grin too. She’s so cute! She’ll always be cute, I don’t know if she’s 37, a pasty scientist and mildly mangled from experiments gone wrong, she’ll still be adorable. I’m sure Michael agrees. “Okay!”

As she goes off to get the pancake, I leap to take the chance alone to have a chat with Michael myself.

Or attack him.

Placing my elbow securely on the table between us, pointing at him, I squint. “Stop making her masks, Michael! Anything else, really!- We’ve had this talk before, multiple times. You know I have no wall space!”

He shoulders jump, like he silently chuckled at me, and my squint-greasy, just enhances.

“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

After a moment, he veeeeery purposefully shrugs those huge shoulders of his. He does know, he does. I knew it!

“Ooooooooh… “I nearly shake with annoyance, returning to my seat properly and glaring I hope subtly from my side of the table as Rachael returns and carefully tears the pancake in half for them. As she does, I watch and just sit and take great pleasure in the fact that they wont even trust plastic knives around Michael. Ha!

He see’s the too-happy glint in my eye and drinks all my juice.

Damn him.

#Horror Villain Drabbles #Horror Villains x Reader #Michael Myers #Freddy Krueger #X Reader

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mythicamagic · 6 years ago

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Saccharine - Kouyui oneshot

Writing commission for @s-e-kwan, thank you for another ^^

If you’d like to commission me to write something, just PM me and I’ll send you the details

---

Summary: Kou starts acting a little strange. And by strange, Yui means...nice?

Rated T

Fluffy but clingy/obsessive

“Gahhh crap, where is it, where is it?!”

“Uh, Mr. Mukami? The recording booth has only been booked for two hours, so if you could-“

“I know that!” Kou barked, glaring over his shoulder at the dumb record staff waiting behind the glass. He was supposed to be singing the lyrics of the new song he’d personally come up with. But he’d gotten a tad too eager and left without his lyric sheet that morning.

And Kou only had a brilliant memory when it came to remembering the juicy, dirty, cruel details about another person.

But math, history, lyrics? No dice.

“I have to go back home to get it,” he gritted out.

“What? But, Mr. Mukami-“

Storming out of the sound booth, Kou hurried down the hallway of the agency that had signed him. This sucked. This was not what a star did. Reaching the entrance of the building, he was halfway through texting for someone to come pick him up, when the Mukami’s signature sleek black vehicle pulled up outside.

Kou stopped, blinking.

The door opened, and a pale leg became visible first, before Yui ducked out, clutching a hot pink folder to her chest.

“Kou!” She breathed, eyes bright. A smile tugged at her mouth as she jogged up to him, skirts and light blonde locks fluttering in the breeze.

He stared.

“I brought this for you. I wasn’t sure if you had a copy,” she passed the folder to him containing the lyrics he’d worked on. “You must be busy working, so I won’t bother you. Just make sure to give it your all!” With that, she turned, waving. Not even wanting anything in return. “Good luck with the recording session!”

This caused the rusted gears turning in his head to abruptly stop. A Yui shaped wrench lodged in-between the metal.

He remembered purposefully getting her harassed by his fans and laughing, the look on her face as he’d inflicted terror after terror. But she was still smiling? Still being kind? Still…there. Kou drummed his fingers against his thigh, shifting on his heel as he came to a silent decision.

---

That evening, when she served him vongole bianco on top of everything else, Kou lifted his head. He took a seat beside her, despite not having done so in the past, and started eating with gusto.

The others blinked, refraining from comment. When Yui reached the end of her meal, she sighed with contentment.

“Ah, M neko-chan. Want seconds?” Kou asked.

That was odd. “Oh, no thank you,” Yui smiled politely.

“Noooo really, it’s fine~ you can have some of mine if you like?”

Yui’s eyes widened and she held up her hands. “But you love this food? I-it’s okay. I’m very full.”

Tilting his head slightly, the blonde nodded, continuing to eat. Everyone else glanced at each other, wondering what had gotten into the usual food hog.

---

Hearing a knock at her bedroom door, Yui opened it, her heart doing a funny thing in her chest.

“H-hello?”

Kou smiled widely at her, leaning closer. “Ne, I couldn’t sleep in my room. Mind if I come in here?”

Yes, she did mind, but Yui knew there was no choice involved. Keeping an uneasy smile plastered to her face, Yui stepped aside for him to enter.

Returning awkwardly to her bed, Yui squeaked when his body appeared behind her under the covers, pulling her back against him. Hot breath fanned into light blonde locks.

“Goodnight~” he crooned softly, nuzzling into her neck and promptly falling asleep. Yui blinked owlishly, laying within his arms for a long time and waiting for the inevitable. For the sharpness of his fangs.

But nothing came. Slowly, she relaxed and smiled in his hold.

---

A week later and Yui closed the fridge door, glancing at the blonde vampire who watched her attentively from the table. She jumped, having not noticed him. “K-kou? Don’t you have another recording session to get to? You know you… haven’t been writing lyrics like you usually do…”

“Huh?” He tilted his head, cat-like eyes gleaming. “Oh, that’s because I’m not going to record music anymore. I’m finalising my paperwork so that I can quit being an idol!”

“What? But why?”

Sharp fangs flashed. “Obviously it’s so I can spend all my time with you! Hehe~”

Yui blinked, tilting her head.

“Hey, there’s a film you’d like playing at that cinema we went to downtown. Want to go tomorrow?”

She nodded faintly, not really grasping his words as he started excitedly telling her what time they’d meet.

---

His behaviour became increasingly strange compared with Kou’s usual self. He followed her almost every-where, like a baby chick in need of attention. But no matter how much Yui engaged him in conversation, he didn’t seem satisfied. As though he were waiting for her to say something specific.

Eventually, Yui ran out of things to talk about and just continued studying in the living room, albeit awkwardly with his elbow touching hers. The subtle heat from his vampiric body always felt so close.

“Oi, Sow! I picked some vegetables for dinner,” Yuma padded in, grinning.

Rising from the table, Yui sent him a gentle smile. “That’s great! I’ll start preparing them.”

After she’d left the room, Yuma caught Kou’s eye. “What?”

His brother stared, a slight frown skittering over his features, before he gave a lop-sided grin. “Nothing~ just stay away from my girl. M’kay?”

For some reason, Yuma felt an instinct not to get into anything with him. Raising a brow, he tsked, leaving the room.

---

It was getting too much. Sweat broke out on her forehead. She twisted and turned within the cocoon of countless blankets and his stifling arms. Her lungs constricted, begging for air, even though she had a steady supply.

Shaking, bone-white fingers latched onto the thing crushing her in its embrace. She moulded her digits to the shape of Kou’s neck, wrapping her hands around him fully and resting her thumbs on his throat. Then, like a boa constrictor, she squeezed and squeezed and squeezed some more. Pressing her nails down, her thumbs sank in above his Adam’s apple, his form trembling and gasping around her- legs kicking out, hoarsely screaming-

Yui started awake, bolting upright and panting wildly. Shaking, she glanced down at Kou’s sleeping form, his arms still clinging on around her waist.

----

“You just need some space,” Ruki calmly advised that morning, making breakfast.

“But I don’t know how to do that without hurting Kou’s feelings. He seems troubled by something.”

He sighed, “he’s emotionally volatile to the point of fragility. Most likely he’s just experiencing tenderness for the first time and is now trying to replicate it, poorly, I might add. He’s not going to realise he’s doing something wrong if you keep enabling him.”

“I-I see. So if I just…try to get some space, Kou will go back to normal?” Yui murmured. She never thought she’d miss the old Kou, but thinking on it…he’d become someone she thought of often. Even at school, or brushing her hair. She’d wonder in passing how he was, what he was doing, if he were singing.

And if he was giving up singing for her, she didn’t want any part in enabling him further.

---

Ignoring his texts proved difficult, but Yui dodged replying to almost all of them throughout the day. Avoiding him was only possible for so long, as she took extra classes at school or hid in the library at lunch. When the school bell rang, the girl ducked onto a bus and exhaled with relief, riding on it until she reached the road outside the Mukami mansion and walking the rest of the way.

It occurred to her just how tamed she’d become if she weren’t taking the opportunity to run.

Feeling something wet land on her head, Yui glanced up, finding the skies rolling in grey and grim. Hurrying on, she made it inside before the heaven’s opened.

---

Kou hadn’t come back.

Hours had passed and the rain hadn’t stopped. Yui broke her unspoken vow not to text and sent one after the other, worriedly asking where he was.

Staying near the front door, she watched the droplets roll down the glass. The cold, clammy hands of dread grasped her heart.

Hearing the door close, she caught sight of a figure.

“Kou!”

Rushing forward, she ignored his soaked clothes and cupped his frozen cheeks, lifting his head and smoothing the wet locks away from his face when they plastered to damp skin.

“…You didn’t come,” he muttered in a subdued voice.

Yui stopped, blinking the tears from her eyes and bowing her head. The movie. “I-I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, not even as she took him into her arms, soaking herself in the process. Combing shaking fingers through his hair, Yui held onto him as though he were something fragile, not immortal.

“I don’t get it. I don’t get it at all,” his voice came again, slowly. “You didn’t respond to me the way I wanted, no matter how nice I was, you didn’t seem to…want me back. Why is that? Huh? Tell me. My head’s all screwed up and it’s your fault.”

Exhaling, she kept Ruki’s words in mind and stroked his hair. “I do want you Kou. Just not like that. I liked you when you were…yourself.”

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

“But I was an asshole?”

She blushed. “W-well…I wouldn’t describe you like that. The Kou I like is funny and a little selfish, but when he cares about things, he really commits to them, even if he says he doesn’t.”

“You’re kinda weird.” Kou mumbled, his hands resting on her waist pulling her in so that their hips met. “But…maybe, we can have a uh…do over?”

A relieved smile touched her lips. “I’d like that.”

“Okay. Go out with me, m’kay? And don’t ghost me this time.”

“I promise I’ll be there,” she said, before sneezing.

“Hehe. That’s your punishment for making an idol stand out in the rain,” he grinned, kissing her neck and nipping the skin harshly. “C’mon. Let’s go take a shower together.”

“Kou!” She gaped, swatting his arm lightly. When he gave an answering cruel laugh, she knew he’d returned to his normal self. Relief flooded her right down to her toes.

#kouyui #kou mukami #Yui komori #diabolik lovers #diahell #dialovers

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to-the-endogenics · 5 years ago

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Dear Ezekiel,

There is no one I have ever missed more than I miss you. Every time I close my eyes, I see yours looking back at me. It's agony, waiting for your arms to wrap around me in our bed, now cold and only mine.

Sometimes I'll lay and imagine it, pretend you're holding me until I fall to sleep. Running your calluses fingertips against my scalp and my stomach, riding up over your hand. I'll imagine your hot breaths blowing into my hair and the fingers that rake it back into place. I'll imagine the feet brushing over mine, the legs that work their way between mine until you're holding me close enough to confine my breaths. Sometimes, it's the only way I can sleep.

I ache to touch you, your silky, evanescent hair that is the slightest bit oily, the soft shirt and means you wear so I don't get overwhelmed. I ache to smell the motor oil and cardamom and everything else that was uniquely you. I ache to run my hands are on the stubble on your neck until you make me stop for my own good.

It's been almost four years since you last heard from me. In those years, I've lost myself and have been trying to find me ever since. A year ago, I realized I'd done something unusual, that no one had ever done before. I... I'd turned my mental illnesses- my anxiety, my depression, my anorexia, mutism, age regression, anger issues, and OCD- into people.

People I could interact with, who had names and personalities beyond their disorders. Who were family and me and so, so real. Who affected me in real life. People I could hate and fear and miss. People I could love, and people that were capable of loving.

Elizabeth (OCD) took over for my mother when she died. She was always in athletic clothes, and she was very much a put-together-but-falling-apart-rapidly young mother of twenty three. She did her best to hold us in line, to keep us in check, make sure I was fronting and not anyone worse.

Roselyn (Mutism/my nonverbal tendencies) waa the one I knew most about, at least previously to this life. Once upon a time, we'd truly had DID, back when her husband and Jon had walked into her life and left just as quickly. She had been reduced to an apathetic being who couldn't speak and was known for making us dissociate if she fronted.

Ariel (age regression) was her, but young. Ariel was my friend when I was little, and we'd color quietly for hours at the coffee table with her favourite twistable crayons. She couldn't speak in this state, either, but she was much more communicative in other ways.

Emilee (anorexia) wasn't in full force yet at this time. But if started to gain weight that year, and she's constantly have me skip a meal or two of I could get away with it. If I was eight at the time, I was scared of her and ergo very susceptible to listening.

Faery (anxiety) was... me. I was the host, the center of it all, all the chaos that was my family. I was naive and fearful and clung to Depression's side.

Depression vengeful. He was jealous. He was prideful and had to be right and convinced me of it, too. He did his best to keep me naive, his precious little angel.

Ezekiel (depression) was kind. He was bitter and feral, wild and scarily relaxed. He was angry and vile and would yell for hours, and would spend hours making it up to me. He just wanted to protect me. He promised. I was too young to face these things.

He was abusive. He gave me gifts like stuffed animals and fairy lights for m y room. He was bitter. He would pick out outfits for me, usually with my favourite thigh high striped socks. He was feral. He would argue my side of Elizzie was parenting me or telling me to do or not do something. He was scary. He loved me.

And it took until he was gone for me to realize it.

I'm older now. I'm tired, and have fallen in love time and time again. I have a girlfriend who I devote my heart and soul to. I give and get more love than I have ever gotten from even my own family, and I get to be with people who understand what I need.

I have learned to deal with life. I'm on a high dose of anxiety and depression meds, and I know what to do if I feel wrong in any way. I have chewies, I still by rocking and wiggling and sucking on jewellery and letting soft things, and I can recognise when my blood sugar is dropping (a consequence of anorexia). I've gained fifty pounds and now sit at 120 and I love myself more than ever.

Sometimes I have bad days. I'll lay in bed, too tired to be awake and too awake to fall asleep, and I'll imagine his hands running through my hair. I'll remember his last words to me, telling me how he'll protect me from them. I hear his voice whisper apologies and pleas, begging me to stay, but I know it's not real.

He left me years ago, on a sleepy day in a boring class.

And I have never dated to tell him what I feel for fear that boa constrictor will crush me to his chest again.

#endogenic #endogenic system #endogenics-exist #To-the-endogenics #last post #faery speaks #goodbye

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 6 years ago

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Love & Other Drugs Colson Baker (MGK) X Reader Pt 1

A/N: been writing for a while but this is the first time I have written a fic for Colson Baker/ MGK. If any requests send them my way and hope you enjoy 😊

Warnings: Cursing, Drugs Use, Dirty Talk, Oral (To Reader), Sex Addiction

Word Count: 1,315

Sometimes the worst thing you can do...is say yes. A handful of encounters that leave you breathless, broken, and begging for more.

You meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you. And then you meet one person and your life is changed...forever.

Colson was like a drug. One taste, one hit was all it took. You were addicted and there was no turning back. He’d gotten under your skin, prickling just below the surface, an itch you couldn’t quite scratch, surging white-hot through your veins, making you heady with desire. At the mere thought of him, lust slithered down your spine and tightened deep in your gut like a boa constrictor.

When you were with him, his hand between your legs, thick digits stroking you just right , it was like you were witnessing galaxies being born. An explosion of color, stars scattering, constellations forming, burning bright, bright, bright until you swore you would go blind. His tongue, that thick, dexterous muscle would wrap around your throbbing clit, making you scream until your throat was raw.

He would bend you over the table, or couch, or edge of the bed, hands on your ass, spreading you wide so he could watch as he fucked you, his cock glistening with your slick, pounding into you at a punishing pace. Any noises you made were punched out of you, hands scrambling for purchase as you squeezed him achingly tight.

“Fuck, doll,” he would growl. “Gonna make me cum like a fuckin’ teenager.” God, that mouth of his.

Those perfect teeth would sink into your skin, just about to break the skin but not quite, adding that needed bit of pain to send you soaring. Higher and higher he’d push you, middle finger swirling and tapping your clit, buried balls deep inside of you, curved cock hitting that spot, oh fucking christ, yes, with precision only he had.

He would cum inside of you, cock pulsing, thick vein pounding , hips stuttering, a roar of your name deafening you. The sticky white of it would drip down your thighs, hot and thick, the sight of it turning him on even more. He’d be velvet pulled over steel hard in the blink of an eye, driving into you before you’d even caught your breath. Again and again until you passed out.

On your worst days, when you needed him the most, you would whine pitifully. “I need you, baby. Just a little bit more to get me through this.” And fuck, did he give it.

More didn’t only mean harder, faster, deeper . It meant his vibranium hand on your throat, squeezing until black ate at the edges of your vision. It meant crimson handprints on your ass and tits. It meant his cock down your throat, bulging, gagging, tears streaming down your face, nails leaving crescent moons in his thick thighs. It meant bite marks on your shoulders and belly. It meant he could do whatever the fuck he wanted, short of actually killng you. But you loved it. God, how you loved it.

When Colson fucked you, nothing else mattered. Not the fact that you had been completely unmade at the hand of your own lust, the parties, the drugs, the alcohol. You were fucked up , six ways from Sunday, but being with Colson made you forget all of that.

The moment you were alone, all of that darkness flooded you, brought you to your knees. You couldn’t breathe, lungs constricted, throat closed. It was too much, the burden too heavy, weighing you down, pinning you to the floor. Colson. You needed Colson. You craved Colson.

One more , you had texted him, weakly vowing silently that it would be the last time. You could handle it, get a grip on it, your addiction, the carnal craving. One more and then you’d quit it, quit him. Or so she thought.

Colson's POV

Clubs, bars, concert halls, even the local grocery store could be considered hishunting ground for his upcoming mistake. His mind never stopped, he plainly could not help it; when he met Y/N he met his match. Her pure unbridled lust and constant need for sex 24/7 was what drew her to him in the first place.

"If I didn't know you two any better I could swear you two fuck like rabbits!" Mod had joked to him one night while they were hanging out with Y/N and Mod's current girl Bella. "Wow real subtitle." You joked shaking your head with a smile. "Well it is true babe." Colson smirked. The first time they met it was after one of his shows he had invited her back to his hotel room. This also was her first time trying acid, the funny part was she started out a sweet innocent virgin.

They fucked every chance they got. In the car, in the shower, at the hotel and in the bed that they shared together. She was young when they met 18 and he couldn't get enough of her wet tightness, in all honesty she grew dependant on him as well. He pulled the freak right out of her, the innocent virgin act flew right out the window. She became his slut and sexual deviant. She needed him just as badly as he needed her.

"Close your eyes." His voice instructed, you sat cross legged on the bed facing him. You took a deep breath closing your eyes. "Open your mouth." Carefully you did so sticking out your tongue ever so slightly. You felt the thin paper like substance hit your tongue from the small square of acid. It didn't take long for it to melt, in about 30 to 45 minutes you felt the effects.

"How do you feel?" I heard Colson's voice pull me into the here and now. "I'm getting visuals." You replied. "What do you see?" You tried your best to describe what your body was feeling, "green sparks they are flying from our finger tips." You were both sitting down your back against his chest fingers brushing rhythmically against each others palms. "Come on." Colson pulled you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist he held your hands staring into your eyes.

"God you are fucking drop dead gorgeous." He whispered placing kisses along your jaw and neck area. Hovering just above the shell of your ear his warm breath tickling it you hear. "Get ready for multiple mind blowing orgasms more than one and that's even before I fuck you." You could feel a smirk forming on his face. "I can eat pussy non stop like a motherfucker on this shit, hell in fact it's my favorite thing to do." The idea alone caused an ache like no other between your legs without realizing it you let out a moan you had been suppressing. The delicate material of your low cut panties slid down your legs as he pulled them from your body. He laid down grabbing your waist he pulls you to him, "I want you to squat that sweet little pussy right here." He signaled to his smirking face. "Are you sure you will be able to breathe?" You asked awkwardly. "Not to worry, besides I get a better angle and advantage that way."

You knelt down your knees placed on either side of his head he pulled you down over his mouth plunging his tongue deep into your core. It didn't take long for your body to respond, the rhythmic motions of his lips and tongue causing your first orgasm to slam into you at full speed. You felt almost breathless your back arching from the intense feeling. "Holy shit." You moaned out. This was just the beginning to a long night of wild and intense sex that ended up opening a door to a side of you you never knew existed.

#machine gun kelly #fan fiction #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader

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themillsdaughter · 7 years ago

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we saved a few things that were spared

you can also read this in AO3

Contrary to public believe, Kat does know how to focus on the present. She just doesn’t do it with people around.

The soft hum of the shower is what grounds her, what lets her feel the world around her. The strength of the ceramic beneath her feet, the honks of New York’s traffic coming from the window, the soap slipping through her skin, creating bubbles and sterility.

Kat likes becoming a physical being while she’s safe, while she has a plastic curtain surrounding her and warm, pressurised water pouring down. Adena had made her real with a simple smile and some well delivered words.

It’d been refreshing and terrifying.

“How many pairs of underwear do you think I should take?”

“How many times do you plan on having sex?” Sutton retorts, lying in the middle of Kat’s bed, surrounded by clothes.

“I might not have enough pairs.” She frowns and the double uhh makes her smirk.

“Standard plan, babe. One panty a day and a bra each two days.” Jane suggests. It’s a valid input, so she counts fourteen panties and throws them in her bag, grabbing a few extras for emergencies. “I still can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Trust me, neither do I.” Kat mumbles.

She doesn’t believe it until a flight attendant is instructing people to buckle their seatbelts.

This is why a couple running towards each other became such a cliché in romances. This feeling right here, the weight and warmth and familiarity is why two people rush to clutch their significant others tightly.

Adena keeps going off in Farsi, eyes sparkling with confusion and happiness and endearment and that is the reason why she came. Why she dragged her ass bright and early and convinced her boss that she could maintain her most important duties halfway across the continent.

People are starting to stare at them, now. Curious, more than anything.

Kat is very good at Spanish, but she cannot speak Persian for shit, so she kisses the woman holding her face and stops the unknown words.

It’s fulfilling, having Adena against her.

(“How does it feel?”

“Uh empty?”)

“How long?” Adena asks in between kisses, a hand making its way up and up and up Kat’s leg.

“Fly back on,” A sigh, a soft bite on a lower lip, a moan as swift fingers hit her inner thigh. “the seventeenth.”

She’d bought the return ticket before anything else. She knew she’d consider staying forever, otherwise. She knew that with big smiles and huge eyes and that sharp tongue being near her and all around her, she knew she would not go back to the US if she wasn’t forced to.

“A vacation?”

Kat knows what Adena is referring to, knows she’s being asked how she approached Jacqueline on taking time off.

“An adventure.”

(I know that you said that you’re tired of adventure and everything, but I’ve never had one.)

A dream has her tossing and thrashing and choking on her own saliva. Kat wakes up to soothing words and soft touches.

“Breathe, my love.” Adena whispers, an arm around Kat’s shoulders as she coughs. “Breathe.”

It takes her lungs a minute to settle down, not to gulp for air desperately, ineffectively.

Her heart slams against her ribs, a car speeds by outside, reminding her that this is reality.

Jane and Sutton smiling and smiling and being ripped away suddenly. Crying for Kat, begging her for help and she not moving, she not running to them and she just wanting to help, to make it alright again. And Adena, looking at her from afar, tears streaming down her cheeks, ‘home’ echoing around and Kat not fucking moving. That had all been a nightmare. Of course it had.

“It’s gone, it’s gone.”

Real Adena caresses the back of her neck, leans a chin against her shoulder when she stays seated.

Just a nightmare. Nothing more.

She doesn’t mention it when Adena convinces her to lie back down, but Kat hasn’t had a nightmare since she was twelve.

“Not even over my dead, cold-ass body.”

“ Why?” Jane and Sutton groan together. She rolls her eyes, hears Adena chuckling a few steps away.

(it is tucked somewhere around her stomach, the fear the dream seems to have left behind.)

“I am not going anywhere near a llama.”

“But it’s a classic!” Jane whines. A child, honestly.

“Can you really experience Peru if you don’t see a llama up close?” Sutton quirks an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes you can. There’s the Larco Museum here in Lima, Machu Picchu and Moray and Sak- Saks-”

“Saksaywaman.” Adena supplies, sitting on the couch, molding herself to Kat’s side.

“Yeah, and all of those in Cusco.”

“Whatever, have fun being like every other tourist.” Sutton moves out of frame, exasperated.

Correction: children.

“At least I get to be one.”

“Hey,” Sutton reappears, mouth dropped in pretend shock. “mean. Bye.”

The call ends and she shares a look with the woman leaning into her.

Her friends are fine. Assholes as usual, but fine. Adena is not crying and this hug they have going on feels like home.

It’s fascinating, watching as slick, brown hair slowly disappears in a wrap of silk and colors. She has the details down in four days. Adena likes to wear the knot on top of her head, instead of closer to her neck and favors bold, statement patterns.

The first step is pinning the hair in place. Kat likes to fumble with the little strands left behind, too short to pull up. She only does it when they are alone, but seeing shivers running down the woman’s spine makes her happier than she can explain.

“Oh, Steve and Rachel invited us to go hiking with them.” Adena says, voice stranded due to two pins she holds with the corner of her mouth.

“The couple from down the hall?”

“Yes.” A nod, a few silent moments of concentration as the last section of hair is secured into place. In comes the underscarf and Adena turns her attention back to Kat. “Do you want to go?”

“I’m not really into cardio.”

“I’m coming to believe you’re not very much into anything .”

“Except you.” She gets a smirk for that one. “But sure, new country, new me. Sort of.”

Kat pays attention as a yellow scarf is folded and wrapped around Adena’s head. Some twists here and pulls there and they are ready to leave the Airbnb apartment.

(five thousand percent less expensive than daily fees in a hotel)

She is pretty proud of how much she endures before the breaking point.

Bugs everywhere, slippery ground and an unforgiving sun.

Kat is not a nature person. It is just not in her. She’s never had a pet, missed it only for the lack of the distraction one would have given her.

She is not a nature person, nor a cardio person.

The view is beautiful and calming and it is not the same quiet as growing up. It is peaceful and filled with white noises. So she marches on.

Nine miles. Kat hikes Peruvian lands for nine (out of fifteen) miles. When she sees the snake, however, she’s fucking done.

Granted, she was the idiot who didn’t pay attention to her surroundings properly. But a snake ? No ma’am, thank you. In no shape or form will she put on a poker face with that on the equation.

She’d sat down for a moment to drink some water and catch her breath and the only reason she’d even noticed the snake when she did had been Adena’s nervous, paralyzed form looking somewhere over her shoulder.

When Kat followed the gaze and saw the reptile, her heart had exploded inside her. It’d taken every ounce of her being not to sprint out and away on that very second. The longass animal had already been tense and somewhere, some useful part of her brain had screamed SLOW MOVEMENTS YOU DUMB FUCK and she had listened because it sounded right.

“You know, Boa Constrictors are not really venomous to humans.” Steve comments, the road wide enough for the four of them to walk side by side.

“Still scary.” She sighs, flinches when Adena lays an unannounced hand on the small of her back.

Rachel carries on talking about animals and the beauty in their complexity.

Kat has no shits to give. She is adept to fluffy, domesticable beings. Dogs, if she were to be picky.

“The magazine ran an article on NYC rescue centers a few months back. Got a huge online flux.” It’s the best she can do at small talk. “We even set up a few online crash courses for young rescues.”

“I think I saw something about it,” Steve admits. He’s an easy dude. She has no idea how Adena finds these people. “A great initiative. If more people knew about how to properly care for them, maybe there wouldn’t be so many extreme rescue cases.”

The image of a cute, furry puppy gives her enough strength to finish their journey back.

Machu Picchu is interesting. Intricate and old and vibrating with energy.

“Can you imagine? Building something so complex all those years ago?”

The abandoned city itself is enchanting. Adena’s delighted smile is even more so.

A thousand pictures are taken. She serves as a model for most of them. The tour guide takes a few portraits of Adena and her and those are her favorites.

She buys a few souvenirs. Jane and Sutton would kill her at the spot otherwise. She sits in a low, living-being free (she checks) step, taking in the antique stores as she waits for Adena to come back with their icecreams.

She tips her head back, absorbs the warmth of the sunshine. There are kids laughing and speaking a few yards away. Kat focuses on the consistent hum of the fountain to her left, feeling the stone under her butt, under her palms. The straps of her backpack at her shoulders, the foreign scents and tongue, the stiff poke and drag under her leg, the-

Wait. What the-

Her eyelids snap open.

Not another snake.

For fuck’s sake, not another sn-

A cat.

A kitten, actually.

A dirty, shaking and tiny kitten hiding under her legs.

A cat under Kat.

This trip was supposed to be fun and sexy and relaxing. Why does it have to be weird, too?

The kids from down the street are coming at full speed towards her. She sees the front runner’s look and it takes her an instant to make the decision.

Kat reaches down, wraps her fingers around the ridiculously small body. The animal meows and twists and tries with all its might to run from her. As she leans it in her lap, the children surround her.

A couple of shouts in Spanish. She makes out a few keywords before a beat cop comes closer and snaps something, making the kids shut up.

“ Estamos jugando con eso. ” A boy, no taller than her waist, points at the cat in her hands.

No wonder the kitten is shaking so bad. Half a dozen humans passing it around as a toy cannot be easy.

“ El gatito no es una cosa.” The officer doesn’t take his eyes off the kids. “ ¿De quien es?”

“ Yo lo encontré.” The front runner speaks.

“ Y la mamá?”

“ No se. No creo que tengas una.”

She sighs, takes a glance at the cat and then at the woman coming in her direction, frown in place.

Crap.

“Did we really smuggle a cat into the city?” Adena’s voice is warm and amused.

“It was either bringing it with us or giving it back to the children.”

Kat pulls her hoodie open and takes out the kitten. It starts meowing louder as soon as she touches it. She thinks it’s a girl. They are calling it Pecky, for now, because it almost sounds like pequeña and the kitty is so fucking small.

“Yes, I know.” Adena continues, sitting on their bed as Kat kneels on the ground and tries to check if their guest has any injuries. “However, it still sounds crazy.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the most wild thing I’ve ever done.”

“Well, your friends will be dying to hear of your adventures when you get home.”

She furrows her brows. Her chest gets too tight when she thinks about leaving. About only one more morning waking up to soft skin and long lashes. Kat focuses back on Pecky.

“God, she’s full of fleas. Look.” She distances some fur for a clear view at the skin and sure enough four or five little black spots rush by in a few seconds.

The crash course flashes through her mind. Access health, keep hydrated, give wet food if big enough to fill your hand.

There were no pet shops open, so the canned tuna pasta from the convenience store will have to do.

Adena runs a tentative finger under Pecky’s chin. The cat meows, but allows the touch.

“Dish soap kills fleas.” The woman mumbles, starting to pull her hijab apart.

“How do you know that?”

“I got curious about Scarlet’s article.”

Kat smiles. Pecky meows and skips away on top of their comforter.

“Wanna give her a bath, then?”

“Nice try.” Adena flops down on her belly, watching as the kitten looks intrigued at her discarded scarf.

just let me go just let me go, I just want to help them

“kat!”

it’s sutton, desperate, in the dark, needing her. she just wants to help, just wants to make things better.

“home”

adena, beautiful, alone, an unwilling nomad.

“please!”

jane, tiny, amazing, loyal, unsure, scared.

she just wants to help she just wants to take them in she just-

Kat wakes up to a skinny tail resting on top of her nose. Pecky is half asleep, still, but when Kat looks down, the pet gazes back.

“Are you okay?”

She allows the voice to wash over her, inching closer to the body behind her.

“Yeah.”

She tells herself it is not a lie.

Saving a kitty is a welcome distraction to the heartache leaving Adena gives her. The initial plan had been to get to a vet first thing in the morning, find a no-kill shelter and try to make the most of the rest of the day.

A vet is found with no problem at all, the shelter, though, is a bit trickier.

“She won’t survive.” The secretary for the place says, an indifference Kat suspects is more for his own protection than lack of empathy.

“Wanna look at her and say that again, pal?”

The guy sighs and keeps his eyes on his notepad, ringing their expenses in.

“We get over doscientos a year. Not enough money.” He extends the receipt, waits for her to sign. “Maybe you take care of it?”

“We have a flight to take.” She scribbles her name on the thin paper, slides it back to the man over the counter and he finally takes a peek at the white ball of fluff inside the carrier she’d just bought.

“There are certificates.” He gives her a kind smile. Yeap, not that indifferent after all. Realistic, perhaps.

Kat crosses gazes with Adena. She is answered with a nod.

“Do you have international ones?” She gives in, reaching her finger to tease Pecky through the plastic screen.

“Maybe I can find someone to take her.” Kat tries.

She has her folded legs leaning over Adena’s as they wait in the lobby to be called for the flight.

Cusco to Lima, Lima to the USA. She’ll only have a human companion through half the trip.

“That’s possible.”

“And, you know, she’s pretty cute without those dirt-dreadlocks.”

“She’ll get adopted in no time.” Adena runs a thumb across Kat’s knee. She tries to memorize the feeling, the exact amount of heat and the mixture of scents coming off in waves from the woman’s perfume.

Pecky lies on the triangle between their mingled bodies and the back of the airport seat, playing with a balled up piece of paper. Kat gets pinned in place by a pair of blue feline eyes. She steals the makeshift ball and holds it slightly out of reach for the kitten. It stands on its back paws in a glance, using a firm clutch on the stollen toy as support.

Feisty little thing.

“I’m really going to miss you, Adena.”

She doesn’t have the slightest idea of where that comes from. All she knows, all she feels, is a squeeze in her calf where Adena’s hand now rests and her smell and her heat and her gorgeous, expressive eyes caressing her.

Pecky starts nibbling at the handle of her purse.

Kat learns to fully appreciate classical music in under an hour and a half.

She’d never been averse to it, simply more interested in other styles, but Adena loves it and insists on not only listening to it during their flight, but in having Kat pay attention too.

The multiple instruments give off an unique sound and they get even better, if she were to be honest, since they give her the opportunity to have a lovely head tucked in her neck.

One of her hands is clasped permanently inside the woman’s both and she uses her free palm to cradle a sleeping Pecky. The cat doesn’t like to be picked up, but she sure as hell enjoys going under leaning against someone.

One melody after the other, she lets her mind waver and travel. Her passport is still empty. Her thoughts go around the world.

Kat imagines Adena’s visa magically coming through before she leaves for the US. She imagines Central Park walks and Scarlet’s gala with a plus one invite which actually gets used.

Kat imagines movie nights with the girls, her and Adena sharing the floor and a throw blanket.

She imagines domesticity and happiness and continuity.

The London Philharmonic Orchestra stops playing through her headphones and the airplane starts to descent.

“You’re going to be safe, right? You’re going to look before you take a seat and you’re not going to get too close to wild animals and you’re going to be alright, right?”

“I’m going to be fine.” Not a promise. Not what she’d asked.

Adena frames her face (exactly, fucking exactly like she’d done when Kat had arrived ) and kisses her.

They do not cry.

“Until next time, love.”

Oh, Adena. Kind and thoughtful and holding Kat’s heart just as she holds her luggage.

( attention, this is the last call for flight number 34952 leaving for New York City,United States)

Maybe she leaves a piece of herself in Peru, just as she takes a bit of it in a paw-printed carrier.

“Any puns will be paid for.”

Jane and Sutton seem confused, welcoming her into a group hug all the same.

She’s tired and sore. Pecky can’t actually pee on her own yet, which meant Kat had to make her way into the bathroom every couple of hours and use a tissue to stimulate the kitten into relieving herself.

She’s tired and she misses Adena worse than she did when she’d been too foolish and afraid and the woman had moved to Paris.

“How was the trip?”

“Did you take pictures?”

Honestly, as much as she misses Adena, she’s missed these two.

“No turbulences and, uhm, Adena is still uploading stuff to the cloud.”

“And how are you?”

Something gives her away. Maybe the girls just know her too much. Maybe her metaphorical bucket is too full and it spills and leaks everywhere. Maybe her aura is black or some other color that means rotten.

Either way, Kat receives one more embrace.

“We have cheap wine and two new TV Shows in our queue.” Tiny Jane offers.

That’s good. That’s very good. She can’t have movie nights with her best friends and the woman who holds her heart. She can, however, get blissfully drunk and indulge herself in bad rom-com plots.

“You better take me home, then.” She forces a steady smile to counteract the bitterness in her stomach. “We just need to stock up on wet cat food, first.”

“Ah, what?”

“Why?”

No one said she couldn’t get a little amusement out of this. One hand brings up the pet-holder she holds and the other points at it.

“Surprise.”

“Kat, is that a….” Sutton frowns, matching Jane.

“Cat.” She nods, glares pointedly and the pun comment downs on them.

“How was the trip?” Jacqueline doesn’t stop the treadmill, but her smile seems genuine.

“It was good. Peru is gorgeous.”

“It is. We had a photoshoot there for,” Her boss looks away, thinking, and snaps her eyes back a second later. “Fall, two-thousand four. Absolutely spectacular.”

“The culture is very interesting. The ruins live up to their fame.” Kat nods politely. She has to be very careful with her request. Not everyone gets to take a two-week long leave with no forewarning.

“Well, it’s great to have you back. In time for the children’s day picnic, no less.”

Another nod. She’ll have to double check the celebs attending and confirm their snapchat-filter order.

“Jacqueline?”

The woman starts to gradually slow her steps, gives Kat a go ahead smirk.

“Do you mind making the pet-friendly office policy count?”

“How do you mean?” Her boss stops completely.

“We were always allowed to bring our pets with us, right? But since I got here it seemed a silent rule that no one actually brought them.”

“And you want to break that rule?” Jacqueline turns to her desk, flips through a couple of concepts a fashion assistant delivers.

Dennise, Kat thinks, not surprised by the lack of knocking nor the lack of any words from the short redhead.

“With your permission.”

She only gets a hum for a moment, Jacqueline scribing a few things over a sticky note before gluing it on the glossy photographs and handing it to Dennise.

The girl (younger than Kat herself) takes the pages and scurries out.

“What is it you have?”

“A cat.”

An amused look crosses the blonde’s face. She’s thankful no comment follows.

“She’s just a baby and it’d be just until I get her adopted.” Kat continues, tries to explain because she really can’t leave Pecky alone the whole day everyday. The kitten would be terrified, not to mention destroy the apartment.

“Fine.” Jacqueline shrugs. Kat smiles. “But make sure she’s trained. God help you if she uses any of Oliver’s things as a scratching post.”

When she leaves the glass office, she and Sutton exchange a discrete air-fistbump.

To be completely straight, Kat fully intends on giving Pecky away. It is a goal of hers. It is.

It doesn’t happen on the first month because her days can be summarized into waking up, working, facetiming Adena and having a drink with the girls. She’s simply too busy to go looking for a shelter to find willing adopters.

It has nothing to do with the cat being adorable and fitting into her hand and sleeping on her chest.

The adoption also doesn’t happen on the second month because that’s when Sidney comes to work with them and develops a crush on her. She’s flattered, really, but seriously she has a picture of Adena and her in Machu Picchu as her lockscreen and she lets him see it as much as possible. He cannot take a hint and she cannot simply drop my girlfriend in their conversation, since she isn’t sure she has one.

“Have you heard anything?” Kat should know better than to ask. She doesn’t and the need for expressive eyes and soft skin is too glaring inside of her.

“Not yet.” Adena sighs, pulls the sheets up, tighter around her chest. Lying like this, in the dark and both ready to sleep, they can almost fool themselves into believing they are in the same space.

“It’s going to be alright, right?” She feels pathetic, asking for reassurance when it isn’t about her.

“Yes, Kat. It’s going to be alright.”

Pecky stops fitting inside her hand and Jane stops sending her adoption web pages by month three.

By month four, she doesn’t quite remember the smell of Adena’s perfume.

“It’s going to be alright, right?” That’s always how it goes. Every week when they hear nothing about the visa. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Yes, Kat. It’s going to be alright.”

The perfume had been rich and citric. Kat can’t place how, exactly.

Sutton gets pregnant and Sidney kisses Kat by month five. She does not kiss him back and Sutton has a miscarriage three days later, after talking to Richard and deciding to have the baby.

“What are we, Adena?”

“How do you mean?”

She knows. By the slight waver of the voice coming through her phone that Adena understood what she meant fully well.

“Are we dating? Are we waiting on each other? Are we settling?”

“I’m four thousand miles away.”

It’s not an answer, so she doesn’t accept it. She cries into her pillow and Pecky sits on the armchair at the corner of the room, staring at her.

Adena, 7:33 AM:

I’m sorry about last night, call me when you have time .

Kat washes the sleep away and then, she calls.

“It’s going to be alright, right?”

“I don’t know, Kat. I don’t know, anymore.”

Jane and Pinstripe Guy break up and Jacqueline is getting a divorce, apparently. It feels weird, to drink alongside her boss in a poorly-lit, over-crowded bar down the street from where she works. Pecky is spending the night at the vet, though, getting spayed and Jane talks and Sutton drinks and Jacqueline stays for only half an hour.

Kat wants to call Adena as soon as she gets home. She’s drunk and confused and Adena does not have a home of her own to stumble into. She doesn’t call.

“I miss you.” It is whispered through the line as if they are conspiring. Kat smiles, feels her heart squeezing and jumping and melting away.

“I miss you too.”

“Will I still have you, if I come back?”

“Yeah, Adena. I’m gonna be here.”

Everything is messy and complicated and everyone around her seems somehow unhappy.

(except for Pecky, who plays in the corner with her rolling toy-mouse. Small blessings, she supposes)

Her Thanksgiving is long and lonely, but filled with wine.

Jane had gone to see her brothers, Sutton to see her mom and Kat had insisted she’d be fine. Her friends deserved a break, deserved some moments to heal.

She calls Adena by the end of the day, perhaps a glass away from way too many.

“I really really really like you, Adena.”

“I like you too, Kat.”

“I hate having to wait to be with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

The eyes looking at her through the screen move away, to somewhere she can’t see and can’t understand and is that sadness? Are those tears? Shit. Fuck. Goddamit.

“I’m going to, though.” She tries to make it reassuring. Tries to take it back to when Adena wasn’t so clearly torn, to when it was just unneasiness.

“I know.” Adena sighs, seems guilty now and Kat watches as a hand brushes the tears away. “I just don’t know if there’s any hope in that.”

“There is. Adena,” Her voice is firmer, now. She’s still pretty drunk, but this is important. “There is hope in it. You’re going to get your visa. Or you won’t. But either way, we’re going to work through it. The magazine is always planning events in other countries and I can start going with, instead of sending others and you can flight there and we can have a thousand and four new adventures, together.”

“A thousand and four? That’s an specific number.”

“Multiply it by five hundred and twenty seven.”

“You’re learning your numbers.”

That gorgeous, warm smile comes back. Her chest squeezes and her body grows hotter.

“Yes, thank you for noticing.”

Adena nods, cleans a few tears away.

Correction: Her Thanksgiving is lonely and long, but filled with wine and drunken conclusions.

The weirdness starts about a week after the 25th. Jane and Sutton start always being too tired for movie nights or shopping sprees or drinking games.

After, Adena breaks her iphone and decides to change brands, meaning their facetime calls are off. Skype is the next best thing, but the apartment the woman is now renting doesn’t have wifi, which automatically leads to them only having calls when Adena is in a café or some other public establishment.

A few days later, the girls start talking about spending New Year’s together in a little cottage in Jersey. She is down for whatever they plan on, but a cottage ? That is too out of the blue and too damn cold for this time of the year, even for Tiny Jane and her love for the wilderness.

Christmas comes and with it her parents traveling to visit. They’d always do the opposite, she’d catch a plane or a bus home and spend a couple of days there and Pecky and the cottage are the only reasons she doesn’t do exactly that. It’d be too much stress for the cat, to go through a five hour drive, get used to a new, foreign place just to come back a few days later and having to move yet again once she and the girls went to New Jersey.

So her parents come to her. They are sweet and her dad lets the pet sleep on his lap. Everything is a touch quieter. It twists her stomach, but it is good to have mom and pop with a New York drop scene.

They ask her about Adena, about Peru and if it was worth it.

“You know how I always wanted change in my life?”

Her parents nod, the nagging feeling she’s one of their patients can’t quite take away from the moment.

“I have that, with her. An exciting and really healing sort of change, you know?”

They smile. Her mom reminds her that the honeymoon phase eventually goes away and she should be sure they have a good foundation for when it does.

Kat doesn’t snap back. Maybe her mother is right. She just doesn’t want to live her life like a lab experiment or a sociology paper.

They go to the infamous cottage on December 28. It’s a decent thing.

She’s got dibs on the bedroom with the view, since the ledge is perfectly sized for Pecky to watch the birds outside and has a little nook for the cat to sleep in as well.

The girls insisted on sharing the other bedroom, which leaves her feeling slightly left out.

“How long ‘til you start plotting to kill me, hm?” Kat runs her fingers behind the Pecky’s ear.

Blue eyes focus on a mosquito, flying around the room, and in a blink, her pet also abandons her.

She has no idea how they get service in the middle of the woods, but Sutton keeps checking her phone so much that she , Kat Edison, Social Media Director, has to threaten taking it away from her.

Jane backs Sutton up, tells Kat that there’s this important fashion thingy happening in Marrocos. She shrugs and goes back to brushing her hair. This place does have a very cozy tub, she’ll give them that much.

Kat really loses it, however, when Sutton claims to have forgotten the ingredients for the s'mores and rushes out in the middle of the day to get it. She really loses it when it is dinnertime and the blonde is still not back and Jane acts as if there’s nothing wrong.

“What the hell is going on with you two? Did I do something? Because there’s been this thing between us for a while and I somehow can’t be a part of it and it is freaking me out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For real? You don’t think I notice when you two stop talking as soon as I walk in? Or how you both are always too tired to hang out, but you both are also always online at two PM on that same day?”

“Kat, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Jane doesn’t deny it, then.

It hurts and it stings and she hasn’t talked to Adena since the day they came to this place and it is already the 30th.

She sits on the couch, back to the door, and she sulks. She’s allowed to. She will not cry out of frustration, but the trip is pretty much ruined for her and Sutton has disappeared with the only car they have.

Jane tries to make small talk, as if everything is perfect. Kat sends her glares and makes some supper.

(enough for the three of them, which makes her madder because she should let them fend for themselves if the two are such exclusive best friends now)

She is working, actually working on her holiday when she hears the cabin door opening. Her anger climbs back up and

“Oh, did you go make the chocolate from scratch or-”

Adena is standing there when she turns around. Adena with a bright blue hijab and soft grey sweater and old jeans and boots and Adena Adena Adena . Beaming at Kat. Being beautiful and glorious and present.

(she is totally not exaggerating when she thinks her heart actually stops)

“Adena.”

She lets it past her lips and it wakes her up. The most gorgeous human being she’s ever known is finally breathing the same air as her and she’s frozen five feet away.

Saying the name gets her into motion, gets her into the warm and strong and secure arms in a second, wrapped in the smell of citrus fruits and airplane.

“Your visa?” Kat whispers it against soft skin.

“It came through.”

“And- When-” She pulls away, meets those wonderful brown eyes.

“The girls helped speed things up with the legal department.”

“Incite has a lot of experience with it, surprisingly.”

Jane. Jane is speaking somewhere to their right. Kat had been stupid and mistrustful.

She looks at her friends, at their smiles. Looks at Tiny Jane, with a little smirk and Sutton, leaning against the now closed cabin door. She looks at Adena, an inch away from her.

“I love you guys.” She makes sure Sutton and Jane understand. They nod, love you too

Kat feels a warm body brushing against her leg.

“Pecky, were you in this too?”

The feline meows back at her, continuing to rub against them.

“I knew you were up to something.”

Another meow. She laughs. And buries her face against Adena’s neck.

(“But, you know, for me, I could just never get past this .”

“Well, for me, it’s never just been about this. It’s, uh, it’s more about this .” )

Adena lies her head against Kat’s shoulder, a hand on her ribs and hair muffling her nose.

It is bliss. The afterglow isn’t too bad, either, but the stillness of everything, the notion that they are not on borrowed time, is heavenly.

“I can’t believe it’s over.” Adena sighs and Kat hums in agreement. The body she holds against her own starts shaking. Her eyes pinch and she smiles. Smiles wide and big and pulls Adena closer, because she can . Because Adena is there and now they have thousands and thousands of possibilities.

“It’s over.” She smiles and she cries, but for the first time since Sutton miscarried, she lets out happy tears.

“I have something for you.” Adena leans over her, over the end of the bed and into the suit bag she’d brought with her. “Even though Islam doesn’t have a holy day similar to Christmas, I know it is a big part of your culture. So I got you this.”

Kat takes the wrapped box, doesn’t know if she should tear it open or kiss the woman first. She decides on the kiss.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know. But I thought of you when I saw it.”

She smirks, her insides turning. This is happiness, this is a little taste of bliss in the middle of disaster.

Kat pulls away the bow tightened around the box, pulls up the lid and lets her mouth hang open for a moment.

A stuffed llama. A stuffed llama glares at her with black-bead eyes.

Adena starts chuckling, a hand covering her lips.

“At least this one doesn’t spit.” She shrugs. Adena laughs harder.

It’s a cute toy and it has a meaning behind it and is this their first inside joke?

“There’s something else.” Adena manages, calming down, smile in place.

She shuffles the flow of white tissue paper around and something black catches her attention. Another box, she notes, as she pulls it out. A jewelry box, at that.

Kat opens it slowly, runs a fingertip over the details of the piece.

“I thought you would wear it a bit more than a necklace.”

“Adena, this is beautiful.”

A wide oval shape. The stone in the background is of a stained and cracked red. A man’s face, in true Peruvian style, embossed front and center in the same silver which makes the structure of the rest of the ring.

A few outfits it’d go great with pop in her mind, get filed away into a corner.

“Thank you.” She sighs, frames Adena’s jaw with one of her hands. Kat leans in, drops a kiss on the corner of the woman’s mouth.

“I’m happy you like it.”

“I love it. I love both of them.”

She makes a point of bringing the stuffed animal further into her lap. It’ll be a full day, once Jane sees it, but it is from Adena . Thoughtful and sweet and teasing Adena, so Kat loves it, no doubt about it.

“How are we messing this up?” Sutton steps away from the stove, frustrated and glaring at the steaming and way too liquid mixture on the pan.

“Told you we should had just ordered it along with the turkey.”

“Kat, we’re not kids, we should be able to handle a simple dressing.”

Uh-uh, irritated Sutton is bad and can very quickly turn into Lash-out Sutton. Kat backs away into the other corner of the (small) kitchen.

“I can make a run to the store if you want.” Jane pops her head in.

“Didn’t you have an article to finish?” Sutton sighs, turning off the stove and throwing the napkin on the sink.

“Just finished it.” Jane steps into the room completely. “So I can go, if you want me to.”

“Nah, the stores are probably closed already, anyway.” Sutton scratches her neck, moves to start washing the cutlery she used on the recipe.

Kat exchanges a look with the other brunette, agreeing on leaving the situation be. It’s not about the dressing as it is about Richard’s call earlier in the day. Their friend will let it out when she feels ready, they just have to wait and tread carefully.

They take to the living room, checking if the few decorations they brought along are sticking.

“Pecky!” Kat stomps her foot and her pet runs a few feet away, tail straight up. “What were you doing?”

She inspects the ripped pieces of paper on the floor, getting on to collecting them.

“I swear to God, everything was in place a second ago.” Jane tries hanging the New Year’s sign back on the wall.

“Yeah, she’s fast. Knows when she’s doing something she isn’t supposed to.” She sighs, standing up with the torn cardboard flag in hand. “Yes, we’re talking about you.” Kat snaps when she notices Pecky lurking closer.

The feline takes the words as forgiveness, however, and trots over to her, rubbing against her calf as usual.

There’s something unique, about keeping a pet. Something inevitable on falling to their charms now and again.

She’d taken this cat, tiny and sick and scared senseless and now she is healthy and the right amount of fluffy, secure enough to run around and play and think everything is okay despite it all.

Kat is aware it is her logic that has her adoration for the animal swimming up, letting her scratch Pecky’s back. She knows, and she doesn’t care. Peru gave her beautiful sights, a face-to-face she hopes never to have again and it also gave her the little purring hurricane she pulls closer.

Kat looks up to see Adena, newly showered, stepping out of their bedroom at the same time a crash comes from the kitchen, followed by a few curse words.

“Ah, did I miss something?” Adena lifts an eyebrow.

A bliss in the midst of chaos, alright.

“Happy new year!” Jane pulls at the party popper’s string, smile wide and eyes glossy from the booze they’d been sipping away at for the past four hours.

She laughs and sees as a ball of moving fur ends up behind the bookcase.

“Good luck getting her from back there.” Kat gives her friend a thumbs up, not really worried about Pecky. The fireworks they hear in the distance would be worse, had they stayed in the city.

Jane groans.

“Happy new year.” Kat sighs, feeling Adena’s arm squeeze tighter around her waist.

“Happy new year.” Adena mumbles, lips against Kat’s hair. “May many more come our way.”

“I’m so glad you are celebrating it with us.”

“The rebirth of a year is worth celebrating, no matter in which calendar.”

She smirks, turns her head enough to peck the woman’s lips. As she turns back, she sees Jane coercing Pecky out of her hiding with the mouse toy the cat loves. By the brunette’s side is Sutton, her beautiful and healing friend, in desperate need of a new beginning.

Kat moves out of Adena’s hold, pulls Sutton into a hug. Strong and firm. “I love you, babe.”

“Love you too.”

“I can’t say this year will be better, but at least the last one is officially over.”

Sutton nods, wipes away a tear from her cheek.

“Thank God.”

“And tequila!” Jane squeals, sitting on the ground, waving the mouse around for Pecky.

“And tequila.” She and Sutton resonate. A weird analogy, but a true one, nonetheless.

However Adena manages to go through the emotional rollercoaster from hell they experienced without getting hammered here and now is an honest mystery to Kat.

It also makes her admire the woman a tad more.

(if that’s even possible)

She kinda hates her mom, a little bit, for being right. The honeymoon phase does pass. It passes quite quickly, to be honest.

Adena does not condone pets sleeping in the same bed as their owners. Kat loves lazy weekends and Adena seems to think New York has new mysteries to be uncovered every day, specially when it is extra early.

Adena gets moody when she thinks she hasn’t captured a good piece during a photoshoot and Kat does not always have the time nor the patience to explain why, when the girls text ‘ alcohol emergency’ , she has to scurry away, no matter what.

It is hard and they fight. It is hard and it is real and she can’t recall the last relationship she had where she didn’t feel the need to break things off at least twice a week.

But it is real and her heart skips a beat every time she sees Adena chewing on her bottom lip, trying to pass a hard phase on Candy Crush (in Kat’s phone because Adena doesn’t need shallow distractions) .

It is the most real she’s ever felt and it honestly amazes her, how fucking safe it is.

Oh, and having a beautiful woman playing and running around her apartment with her cat is not bad, either.

It is one of the hardest things she faces, being real and letting someone watch it happen , but it is one of her biggest accomplishments.

#kadena #kat and adena #kat x adena #kat edison #adena el amin #jane sloan #sutton brady #jacqueline carlyle #the bold type #fanfiction #fanfic #the bold type fanfiction #sapphic fanfic #themillsdaughter original

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winemum-ignis · 8 years ago

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Sunday Morning

Notes: So this was the accumulation of a post I saw that was just like ‘imagine gladio in sweats and reading glasses’ (which is lost somewhere in the maze that is my likes and whatnot) and from writing these headcanons. The mental images oh the mental images just give me an IV of domestic fluff (particularly older Gladnis) and I will live for all eternity and I needed to finish something for Gladio’s birthday (even if it is now the 3rd over here shhhh). In no way birthday related, just cute future fluff, and maybe one day, I will complete my original birthday smut plan and just un-birthday it, we shall see.

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF *chants into the sunset*, Gladnis, Future AU where my precious babies are save and happy, 3281 words, (AO3)

Sunday morning was Gladio’s turn to make breakfast. It was the same every week and he normally ended up doing the same thing; not actually making it and instead picking something up. He had tried making things in the past but he was hardly as skilled as his partner was in the kitchen and it didn’t always go exactly as planned so he couldn’t be blamed for wanting to play it safe sometimes. Besides, it also gave him the chance to pick the paper up en route which was currently tucked underneath his arm as he juggled the items in his hands. He finally gave up, putting the cardboard cut-out that held the takeaway coffee cups down on the floor allowing a now free hand to reach into the pocket of his light grey sweats while the other held the bag that contained breakfast.

Propping the apartment door open with a foot as he reacquired the caffeine, there was a lot of shimmying as he tried to get himself in the door without dropping or spilling anything, but needless to say he succeeded. Stepping out of his shoes and wandering down the corridor towards the kitchen he was greeted by the white cat that rubbed up against a leg with a soft purr, clearly eager to see if her owner had returned with anything worth her while. He hadn’t, not specifically at least but Gladio did have a habit of giving her some of what they had. All she had to do was look at him with those big green eyes and he was lost. Not dissimilar to the other person who lived in the apartment.

“There’s nothing for cats.” Removing the coffee cups from their carrier, Gladiolus couldn’t resist booping the little pink nose of his audience that was watching him like a hawk before opening up the bag, the sweet smell hitting him like a brick as he proceeded to empty out the pastries onto a plate. He could at least make it look like he had made the effort although it wouldn’t take a detective to work out that he didn’t make them himself. He tested one of them, taking a large bite which drew a grunt of approval at the apple turnover as he settled himself at one of the stools at the kitchen island. “And I doubt there will be any leftovers, these are too good.” Ears twitched as she was addressed, the cat tilting her head to the side as if confused by Gladio’s statement, as if she understood what he was saying and was mortally offended at the prospect of not getting leftovers.

“That is of course if he ever gets up to eat them.” She didn’t understand the smirk to denote his joking around, she was a cat, but it didn’t stop him doing it none the less as he raked fingers through his hair before taking a band from the pocket of his sweats, tying the long dark strands back so they couldn’t get in his face. It was the only day of the week his partner was able to sleep in and even then, sometimes that luxury wasn’t even afforded so Gladio was more than happy to let Ignis lie in when given the opportunity. It wasn’t like he didn’t have anything to entertain himself after all as he picked up the newspaper, having to stand up from his seat to get a pen when he couldn’t find one within reaching distance.

With a relaxed expression adorning his features the tall man sat down in the stool, noting what sounded like movement coming from the master bedroom as he started to thumb through the newspaper. Amber eyes skimmed over the print to see if there were any stories of interest before he finally arrived at his actual destination. Sucking the end of the pen out of concentration as he read through the clues for the crossword puzzle, hand reached out to grab the chai latte he had brought for himself when his gaze was caught by something else entirely. He hesitated; while he knew he could do this without them he couldn’t deny that they did help. He was just very unsure about them at the moment. That was when the tall man resigned himself, picking up the reading glasses and placing them on the bridge of his nose. He’d only had them a few days and had worn them all of two times to see how they were. Maybe they would grow on him; only time would tell.

With the faint sound of the shower starting to run in the background Gladio didn’t even notice as he began to fill out the puzzle, occasionally stopping to think things over. A tuck of a stray strand of hair here, a scratch at his temple with the end of his pen there, a sip of the coffee and an eyeing up of the pastry’s and the white cat that was slowly edging closer to them possibly in the hopes that the black-haired gentleman wouldn’t notice. It took all his self-control but he would wait until Ignis was up to have another one which, judging by the fact that the shower had now gone silent and he could hear a faint mumbling coming from the master bedroom, wouldn’t be long.

Readjusting his glasses on his nose, brow furrowed as he began a staring competition with a particularly elusive clue. Scratching behind soft white ears which drew a content purr of the feline, it was when she rose and jumped from the edge of the Island that Gladio was pulled back into the real world. Considering there was food out only one thing would be able to distract her and he knew exactly what sight would behold him as gaze followed the quick white ball of fluff. He knew what it was, but it didn’t make him any more ready for Ignis as he walked out of the bedroom who paused so as not to stand on the cat who had to do her gratuitous greeting of wrapping herself around his legs until he scooped her up.

Gladio was staring and quite frankly, he didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and he was going to take the time to appreciate the man before him. Even after all these years just the sight of him could make his heart flutter even adorned in such casual clothes. Then again this was the man who could probably make a potato sack look good so it was no surprise he managed to make the lounge pants and v-neck work and so effortlessly at that.

Finally, Gladiolus stopped his mesmerised staring at the brunette to actually greet him. “Good morning.” As soon as he spoke, Ignis started walking over, content little smile now directed to his partner instead of the feline that was balanced in the crook of one arm as long fingers pushed still damp brown hair back from his face before they reached out to where, according to what spacial awareness he had, should have been the counter. He was correct in his estimations and fingers felt the cold surface which the nimble cat now jumped back on to. As soon as he was within arm’s reach of his partner he was gently tugged towards him by a hand reaching out to take his own, fingers loosely lacing together as Ignis stood between muscular thighs.

“Morning.” Leaning down, taking full advantage of the fact that while the other man was seated he was taller than Gladio a soft kiss was placed against the corner of lips. Not bad for guess work. It was the little morning challenge he had set up for himself; no hands to guide him he just had to go in for the kill and see how close to lips he could get the kiss. On multiple occasions, he had managed to get a bullseye, but on just as many occasions had missed spectacularly. Nothing said romance like greeting your lover in the morning with a kiss to the eye. “Close.” Now he could use hands, and he didn’t hesitate to reach up and stroke fingers over Gladio’s bearded jawline slowly.

“Nine out of ten for that one, so close but not quite close enough.” While he knew that Ignis couldn’t see the grin that adorned his features, he knew the younger man could feel it as digits glided over his skin and that was all that mattered. “And as for your prize for breaking this week’s high score…” Pushing the newspaper and pen away from the edge of the island counter, Gladio reached for the untouched coffee that he had brought home with him on top of his own one, placing it in Ignis’ hand instead of where his fingers had previously been. “One hazelnut latte complete with extra double espresso shot.”

Taking a long sip was like heaven as Ignis ran tongue over his lips enjoying the lingering taste of the coffee. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” The coy smirk didn’t go unnoticed, drawing a soft laugh from Gladio who draped his arms low around Ignis’ waist leaving him unable to escape his grasp even if he wanted to.

“Don’t forget my amazing ab’s.” The words were slightly muffled as he rested head into the crook of Ignis’ neck that was so beautiful exposed from the loose fit top. It wasn’t as comfortable as normal though and it took a few moments for him to work out why as the brunette simply stood with the seated older man partially wrapped around him like a boa constrictor as if it was a normal occurrence. The truth is that it was. What wasn’t normal were the glasses that Gladio was wearing which was the course of his discomfort, leading him to reluctantly pull back from burying his face and enjoying the smell of the freshly showered man before him.

Taking another long sip of the coffee, free hand stroked over Gladio’s hair as he leant back from his neck. “They are quite exquisite, I will give you that.” Reaching to the back of his head, it didn’t take long for Ignis to locate the band that loosely held back his lover’s black hair, pulling it just enough to release the mane so he could slowly run fingers through it properly. While he curled a few strands around his index finger idly, he coasted over the arm of the reading glasses causing an eyebrow to raise. “So you’re finally wearing them.” Receiving a somewhat disgruntled sigh in response, Ignis placed the coffee on to the table so both hands could cradle Gladio’s face, fingers adjusting the glasses that were perched on his nose with a practised ease, a slightly concerned tone to his voice. “What’s the matter with them? Are they not fitted properly?”

Gladiolus was reluctant to voice his complaints; it suddenly seemed irrelevant to be complaining about his requiring of reading glasses as he looked up at the man before him, the man who had given his vision for the cause that they both had fought for. He knew deep down that Ignis didn’t care about such things; he had accepted what had happened and learnt to carry on with his life but it didn’t stop Gladio thinking about it in such a way. “There’s nothing wrong with them, I’m just being silly.”

He was hesitant to, but he accepted the older man’s words. “Either way, I am sure you look very handsome.” It may have been well over a decade since he was last able to set eyes on that face, but it would be one that Ignis never forgot. He left the glasses as they were, reassured by Gladio’s words, finger tips trailing down so hands could rest at the base of his neck, leaning in once more and this time managing to hit his mark properly with a tender kiss to the other man’s lips. Somebody in the kitchen however wasn’t keen on the situation as a loud meow ensured the gaze of the two men was back on the cat, lips parting ways. She was clearly not pleased at two things; the fact that the pastries were still there and hadn’t been given to her, and that all their attention was on each other as opposed to hers truly.

It had worked, as Gladiolus pulled the shorter male into his lap properly so he was a combination of leaning and sitting on a sturdy thigh, they delved into breakfast with occasional scratches and strokes for the feline who was making it her business to intercept hands as they reached for the plate. All the right noises were made, the discussion as to their opinions on the food from the new bakery and whether they would be going again, the standard practise of Ignis helping solve the remaining crossword clues, and it wasn’t long until Gladio was brushing the last stray flake of puff pastry from Ignis’ chin before placing a soft kiss to lips with a smile. Realising that all the food had gone and there was nothing left for her, small white ball of fluff finally resigned herself to her actual breakfast, jumping from the counter leaving the two men to their own devices now they had so rudely eaten all of their food. It was almost as if Gladio had gone and bought it with the intention to eat it; the audacity.

“So, who were you talking to earlier?” Remembering that he had heard Ignis’ voice long before he had seen him, the older man finally removed the reading glasses now that the morning crossword was done and dusted, feeling considerably less ‘old’ now that they were removed.

Before he had even said the word, Ignis knew the reaction that he would get. “Iris.” Exactly as expected a frowny pout formed on the other man’s face but he was already speaking before he could even think of uttering his usual ‘never has time to call her actual brother’. “She thought you may have been asleep and didn’t want to wake you.” The pout lingered, but since it was quite a valid reason Gladio chose not to interject, at least not yet. “They’re going to be back in Insomnia tonight as opposed to tomorrow and asked if we wanted to go for dinner, I suggested going to the Regalia.”

“They?” There it was, the frowny pout as prominent as ever again and Ignis didn’t even have to be able to see him to know it was there, it was clear by Gladio’s voice and as a hand rose and cupped Gladio’s cheek, stroking fingers felt the expression clear as day.

“Yes, they. The two of them. Don’t be a stubborn older brother about this, not again.”

“I’m not being a stubborn older brother, I just don’t think that he is—“

“Don’t be preposterous you know he is perfect for Iris, he is a fantastic person, and above all she isn’t a child any more, Gladio. She is a grown woman who can make her own, sound decisions. You are just being over-protective.”

There was a moments silence as Gladio realised he didn’t really have a counter argument. Gods, why was Ignis always right? Still, despite how correct the brunette may have been it didn’t stop him from wanting to have the last word. “I just don’t want her to settle for the first guy that comes along.”

“Oh sweetness, light of my life, it’s a good job you’re pretty.” Long fingers returned to stroking softly through the long strands of dark hair. “You don’t genuinely believe this is the first guy that’s come along, do you?” The silence that came from the black-haired male said it all as it drew a soft little smile on Ignis’ face as he could practically hear the penny drop. “Don’t you think it says a lot that this is the first one you’ve been introduced too seriously?” And there he was again, being right. The quiet lasted several seconds as Ignis gave him the chance to realise the truth of his words, taking the opportunity to stand up from his thigh perch. Doing so allowed him to rest hands on Gladio’s waist, palms slowly stroking over the vest that concealed away the so delightfully statuesque abdomen. “Try not to think about that at dinner though, you don’t want to go ruining it for yourself.”

The next subject matter to come up was that of what they would actually spend the day doing between now and going out for dinner that evening. There were a lot of hours to fill and when you spent most the time in the week working, actually having free reign of how to unwind could be quite intimidating. Sadly, this week was not one of those weeks; it wasn’t a matter of working out how to best use their time for ideal relaxation. The next few hours at least for them were going to be set out for them but rather they got it out of the way now and had their evening to enjoy with no stress. They’d had the lazy morning and now it was time for Gladio to stand from his chair. “They should be in the hall.” Ignis spoke softly as hands were left Gladiolus-less as the 6’6 man walked past him.

While the taller of the two went through to the hall to retrieve the paperwork that Ignis needed a hand going over, the other retired to the lounge not without grabbing an item of definite necessity from the counter. Well, it wasn’t so much a hand he required with the documents, more so a pair of eyes; it just went much quicker with the assistance of somebody else. With one leg up, one leg down as he semi-laid propped up on the arm of the sofa, Ignis wasn’t sat long until Gladio appeared, several document wallets in his hand before he settled himself on the sofa as well. Taking up the same semi-reclined position he however was propped up against his partner as he lounged between his thighs.

It didn’t take much wiggling to get comfortable and Gladio was soon cracking open the first folder of work. He was never one for this side of things but it was a necessary evil and if it made it easier for Ignis, well then, he would take one for the team. Pulling out the paperwork they had at least already been split. The first copy he kept to himself, the second was handed back to the brunette, the pages that to the untrained eye (or finger so to speak) would just look like a page of random dots.

“Don’t forget these, handsome.” There was a light tapping of something on his shoulder and as Gladio turned his head he caught a glimpse of the reading glasses that Ignis had brought with him from the kitchen. Trying to contain a simultaneous soft chuckle and an exasperated sigh they were soon placed back on the bridge of his noise, ready to be fidgeted with every 30 seconds.

“You sure are putting a lot of faith in me looking good in these.” The soft chuckle that came from Ignis was slightly bittersweet because while he covered it so well, to be able to see that face again was something he longed for every day. It was also nothing in comparison to the laugh that fell from Gladio at Ignis’ next words.

“More faith in in trusting you to tell me if you ever looked like a Jabberwock’s ass.”

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