#kept overworking different places

[taitavva]

scrapped submission for 2023 shuake week

[with-my-calamitous-love]

DON’T BRING ME TO TEARS WHEN I JUST DID MY MAKEUP SO NICE !

chuuya nakahara x f! reader

after a long and draining argument, chuuya makes it up to you in between your thighs.

smut! you are responsible for what you read 🪽

inspired by please please please

it was no ones fault, really.

it was one of those arguments that are really an amalgamation of many different things. that unwashed plate, his late nights and your early mornings, the way he brushes his teeth so god damn loud when you’re trying to read. it happens to every couple- not everything is sunshine, and you have to learn to love each other despite the things that may drive you crazy.

this should have been one of those nights. but it wasn’t.

you finally give out, surrendering your yells as the tears choke down your cheeks. he’s rescheduled this anniversary dinner about 6 times now, all due to his lucrative line of work. you were a okay at first, despite the nerve he had to make you call the restaurant almost all those times to cancel and reschedule.

“i feel like i don’t matter to you, chuuya.” you sigh in frustration, wiping away a tear. his eyebrows crease in shared annoyances, mostly towards himself for letting it get to this point. he’s tired, overworked by that jackass mori, and just wants to come home to you and feel your love. but he’s broken his promises, and knows he’s wronged you- despite how cocky he may be.

“i know, i know, i know, doll.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. he hates seeing you cry, and hates knowing he’s the reason why. he hates that the dress you just bought is now wrinkled due to waiting around in the apartment for him, and that your perfect eyeliner and mascara are smudged because of your arguing.

he isn’t even sure why he argued back. he knows he’s a prick that hates being wrong, but he’s also a prick thats head over heels in love with you. he shouldn’t have pushed you to the side, especially on such an important day. his explanations remained the same, but his promises remained broken.

you eventually sigh in defeat, giving up and locking yourself in the bedroom. chuuya resigns to the couch, opening up a bottle of cabernet and filling his glass full. he tosses his hat and his coat aside, loosely undoes his bolo tie and unbuttons his shirts. if you weren’t sobbing over his asshole-like behaviour, you’d get to see his unreasonably toned abs peaking out from his shirt. messy orange hair hangs low from his shoulders, tired and missing you.

a few hours go by. chuuya’s had his fair share of alcohol, but he’s not intoxicated enough to miss the subtle click of the bedroom door unlocking.

he hesitantly walks over to the door, creaking it open to see you standing there. his eyes shamelessly roam your body, seeing how you’ve removed the dress and stripped down to just your panties.

“i was just gonna go to sleep.” you sigh. its not like he hasn’t seen every inch of you, anyway.

“wait.” he says, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes. (impressive, considering you’re literally naked in front of him.)

you don’t say anything, but your fingers do interlock with his. it gives chuuya the green light to speak.

“…i’m sorry, doll. i shouldn’t have kept rescheduling and accepting you not to care. you do matter. it meant just as much to me as it did to you.” say what you will about chuuya, but he is a stand up guy. he’ll own up to it, especially if he knows its important to you.

you sigh, your lips curling into a small smile. its hard, damn near impossible to stay mad at him. “please don’t make me call the restaurant again, babe.”

chuuya chuckles, and you can see the remnants of the wine on his lips. he knows you’re only half joking, but he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “no, i have something different in mind.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

chuuya eats pussy like he’s starved.

he drags you to the end of the bed, getting on his knees and places kisses on your innermost corners until your sobbing, begging for him to kiss you. he’ll use his thumbs to spread you open, just admiring the way he gets your fluids dripping down. he’ll spit on your pussy, seeing how it runs down your already gushing core before he finally goes in.

slowly, he’ll sink down between your trembling thighs, his tongue darting out to take that first tantalizing lick. you arch your back at just that light contact, knowing you’ll be in for a long night. his hands grab your hips, blessedly holding you in place while he lavishes your pussy.

“your pussy is so pretty, baby.” he moans against you, closing his eyes and loving how warm and soft you are. he savours this taste likes its the last he’ll ever have. as intimate as the moment is, you both know he’ll fuck his cock into you filthy and fast later- better to enjoy the soft stuff now.

“je pourrais rester ici pendant des heures.” he groans with you, the vibrations sending waves of warm pleasure through your body. it starts from your teary eyes, than to your sensitive breasts, down to your stomach and the finally reaching chuuya in between your thighs. every now and then his eyes will open, looking up to see your flushed pink face, but he doesn’t dare remove his mouth. not until your soaking wet for him.

“chuuya! oh, fuck, please!” you whine, grabbing fistfuls of silky orange hair. he chuckles almost cruely, knowing that he’s not stopping any time soon. he does this just as much for him as he does for you, if not more. he loves the way you moan his name, how your pussy tastes. it makes his cock fill out knowing that he’s the only guy that gets to taste it.

“please what doll? want me to stop?” he asks, already knowing what the answer is. he teases you by slowing down his tongue, only touching your pulsing heat with just the tip of it. you almost cry, begging him to keep going.

“bonne fille, tu as tellement bon goût.” he praises you, wrapping his wine-stained lips around your clit and sucking in a way that gets you sobbing from the pleasure. you want to wrap your thighs around his head, pushing him deeper, but he keeps your legs nice and spread for him. “just like that, doll. god, you’re so pretty like this. can’t wait to fuck you so good later.”

you can feel yourself unraveling, and chuuya knows it. his tongue, lips and teeth move in a messy pattern, making your toes curl deliciously. you’re so close, almost seeing white as you approach your high. he does everything to make it as intense as possible, ending it off with one long stroke from bottom to the tip of your clit.

you wail when you cum, chuuya’s thumb rubbing your clit in circles guiding you through the orgasm. your chest heaves as he moves up higher, placing a kiss on your neck. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make you squirt tonight. just relax.”

safe to say that if chuuya was gonna make you cry, he should do it like this instead.

[hypewinter]

Being the Ghost King meant that Danny was forbidden from reincarnating. Unless someone took his place, he was forever bound to the Infinite Realms. But that didn't mean his loved ones had to be too. It had taken a while to convince them as none of them wanted to leave him alone.

He was able to convince his friends first. He got Tucker on his side by telling him about the myriad of technology he'd have at his disposal once he reincarnated. He also threw in how a lifespan, even a long one, is but a blip in the grand scope of infinity and before he knew it, they would be united again. With Tucker's help, they were able to convince Sam too. Though Danny did have to also promise to come down to their new world to meet up with their reincarnated selves from time to time. Saddened yet satisfied with their agreement, Tucker and Sam allowed themselves to be reincarnated.

Jazz was a different story. No matter what Danny told her or how much he sweetened the deal, she refused to reincarnate. She kept insisting that Danny needed her, that without her he'd overwork himself or become a doormat for the Observants. Even after Danny showed her he would be fine without her by perfectly ruling for two weeks without her input, Jazz was still not convinced. Danny had only one option left, the truth.

This whole time, Danny had framed it as just a fun little idea he got one day but he knew that excuse would not be enough to convince Jazz to reincarnate. He confessed to his sister that he just wanted everyone to get a chance at normality for once. A life where they weren't worried about their parent's random inventions attacking them or maintaining the delicate balance of two worlds. None of them had really gotten a chance to be normal after the portal opened. To go off to college, to achieve their aspirations, to settle down and have a family. Jazz especially hadn't even gotten a chance to enjoy her childhood as the second she could walk, she was taking care of her brother. All Danny wanted for her was to be able to have that childhood. To have loving parents who cared and supported her. To not have to worry about being the responsible one all the time.

Seeing how much this had weighed on Danny over the years finally convinced Jazz. She reluctantly agreed to be reincarnated. After forcing Danny to agree for the 100th time that he would make time to visit her a lot over the course of her new life and guarantee for the 1000th that she would most definitely become a ghost once again after she died, she finally let herself be reincarnated too

[save-the-villainous-cat]

jaded villain, optimistic hero. PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

"I am not sure what to make of this," the villain admitted.

"I am not really either," the hero said. They let their head sway a little, as so often when they tried to think.

"It's not going to work," the villain said. They took a sip of their coffee and stared out of the window of the diner. It was foolish to assume the hero hadn't known about the villain's favorite place to have breakfast. It was foolish to assume that the hero didn't know anything about them.

The villain wasn't sure what the hero knew about them exactly - that was probably the most dangerous thing about them. The hero could gamble with information, could intimidate people without lifting a finger.

They could get what they wanted when they wanted and how they wanted.

Violence wasn't something the hero avoided but rhetoric was clearly their preferred method of crushing their enemies.

"Why do you think that?"

"You and I...we are just not really made to pose as a couple, are we?"

"Why not?" the hero asked. Their eyes found the villain. Tired eyes finding tired eyes. Given the hero's careful handling with words, the villain was surprised that they had told them a few weeks ago probably the most personal thing the villain would ever get out of them.

I am tired, they had said. I am very tired.

Looking back at the amount of people the hero had arrested this month, that statement was total bullshit. But the villain liked to think that the hero hadn't lied about it.

"Look at yourself. The way you carry yourself alone is totally different from mine. One might think you're military. I look like I crawled out of a dumpster."

"I don't see why two people like that shouldn't be acquainted," the hero said. They shrugged and tilted their head. "Or in love."

"Well..." the villain took another sip of coffee, "I just don't think it is very convincing. Why should someone like you be with someone like me? I doubt I can change my entire personality for one of your missions."

"You're not supposed to change your personality. In fact, I need you to be you." At that, the villain raised a curious brow and the hero kept holding eye contact like a predator eyed its prey. "Your thinking pattern is structurally different from mine. I need you to go through blue prints and codes with me. I need you to steal information and objects if necessary. I need you to kill if you have to. You can do all of this. I can trust you."

"That doesn't mean we look convincing as a couple," the villain said. They looked at the unfinished bagel the hero wasn't interested in anymore and then back at their own empty plate. A sleepless hero was a careless hero.

And a hungry hero was a dangerous hero.

The villain wasn't sure if the hero was a workaholic or if their boss was overworking them. Either way, there was no reason to skip meals and sleep.

"We have known each other for a long time. I know your weaknesses, you know mine. It would include more...touching for sure. But even that is something we have done for quite some time now, isn't it? You don't break someone else's ribs by simply staring at them from afar," the hero said. They took their bagel and stared at it lovelessly. "I am pretty sure I have touched every part of you by now, even if it was accidental."

"Hm." The villain stared out of the window, dully noting the three black vans with men in suits sitting in them, observing the diner. So what if it was actually pretty easy to pretend to be the hero's lover? What then? "It doesn't feel like I have much of a choice."

"I don't mean it to come across like that. You are my first choice for this mission. I know your loyalty knows boundaries and I respect that. I know your services are not for free and I don't have a problem with paying you handsomely. Working with you is easy," the hero explained. They put the bagel on the villain's plate and the villain was fully aware that the hero tried to manipulate them.

"You mean because I follow your commands blindly?" the villain asked. "Last time I did that, I got shot. Now, you want to work with me again. I wonder if that is desperation or if the people who work for you are simply incompetent."

"Compared to what we are able to do together, everyone I work with is incompetent." Despite the manipulative intention, those were sweet words.

The villain smiled.

"That is...somewhat flattering?" The villain took the bagel and turned it in their hand. "My shoulder still aches. Who guarantees that you will have my back this time?"

"I..." Suddenly, the hero didn't look as calculated. They weren't even close to the indifferent business expression they usually put on when they were talking about a deal. Usually, the villain did not talk to the hero with the intention of hitting nerves. It usually never worked out. "I apologized for that already. I sent flowers. It was a mistake. I got distracted. This time, I will protect you. I will put it in the contract, I promise. I will do my best to shield you."

Getting distracted was an interesting way of describing throwing up during a mission.

"I can protect myself. I am simply questioning if you are in the best shape for a two week mission. That's all." The villain leaned back in their seat and studied the hero. To some degree, everyone was pretending to have their shit together and most of the time, the villain was able to see the cracks.

But the hero had never cracked. Had never come close to imperfection except for this. The lack of sleep and food.

The villain doubted anyone would notice. The hero was incredibly untouchable in their line of work. Barely anyone they worked with knew anything about them — just like the villain in the beginning and still, every now and then.

They stared at the hero. At those eyes and that mouth. That nose and those teeth.

"You don't have to concern yourself with that," the hero said. "I promise I will do my best to keep you unharmed."

The villain took in a deep breath.

Fuck it.

"Fine. I'll see you Monday, then?"

"Yes, I will pick you up," the hero said. They were grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you."

"Thank me later."

The hero nodded eagerly and stood up, took the villain's hand to shake it but they did not expect the villain to tie them to the bed of the hotel room a week later while the villain was the one to carry out most of the mission for them.

[justordinarygirl]

Vicious angel

Sentinel x Megatronus (Hot NSFW)

This sketch is drawn by my friend @missiva12 , please admire her works. Tags: !size kink, praise kink!

The majestic beings, created in the image of God, towered above him, each one of them. He felt a trifle small in himself, and being directly next to them felt as if he were halved even further. It seemed to the Sentinel that everything could be tweaked without overreaching. That the feeling would go away if he kept himself busy, if he worked with the Primes, if he became part of their inner circle. That's when they'd stop seeming repulsive.

But it wasn't like that…

The closer he got, getting more and more personal proxies, the more he was invited to meetings or free events, the more he was ready to scrub his tanks of disgust. Their voices are unnecessarily annoying. Someone's one of their palms presses against his shoulder and squeezes too hard. Someone smells vilely of expensive liquor, but he smiles and laughs with them.

The Sentinel is taught over and over again, he misdistributed the data, he got in the wrong rack, he is asked for the quality of the weapon, even though it is not even his job! The news feeds are once again dotted with headlines about the unrivaled strategy of these great guys, glossing over his existence when the whole tactic was his idea!

Not enough. It's never enough. And in place of the burning hatred, he was strangled by the desire to praise again. Praise tugged at the strings of his spark, especially his praise, the strongest of the Primes, evoked strange mixed feelings that made him want to reach for it again. And the Sentinel was reaching for it.

His frame ached terribly from work and training, more pleasure in staring at his reflection in the training room than twirling his weapon, but once again Sentinel didn't choose. A supine position would relieve the discomfort, but the difficulty lay in the weight of another mech on his back, pressing his breastplates against the long conference table.

«I don't want to pretend not to notice, my friend.» Megatronus' strong palms slid around the curve of another's waist.

«I know you are young, but I do not consider you foolish or ignorant, all instruction is only for the better, for each of us can see that you are capable of more.»

It was an accident to find himself in such a situation. First there had been the conversation with the overworked Prime in the night, then the careless words of annoyance that had come out of Sentinel's vocolizer, and the dialog that had soon turned into clamping down on the smaller mech's figure. He wanted to refuse, was already ready to say something, but Prime gave such a light and reverent compliment to his work that it made him hesitate a little. Of course, another reason this purple bastard was so beloved by the populace, he knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Then another, then another and here was Sentinel, in a completely empty office except for them, pressed against a flat surface and venting noisily at the gentle touches.

«You don't mind? You've worked hard over and over again, definitely deserve a good rest and knowing you, you're more than able to handle…our slight height difference.» he laughs. Of course, it's easy for him to say. But Sentinel really deserves all the attention he can get, doesn't he? And he's capable of enduring almost anything Prime has prepared for him. No one could handle any of the tasks better than him.

Megatronus' palm presses against the interface panel and, covering the entire area with a single manipulator, presses down, rubbing the already heated metal, causing the counsellor to whimper quietly. The plate pressing against the protoform smears the moisture inside in a thin layer and it causes a slamming wave of shame. Just a couple words of praise from him and Sentinel is in such a shameful state. The thought of opening up and showing his feelings is embarrassing and distasteful. A crumb of sanity has returned to him and, withdrawing his manipulator behind his back, the mech wraps his fingers around the others limb, wanting to get up, to end this misunderstanding, but the masked faceplate presses against the back of his helmet.

«You're doing great, its fine, don't worry, I promise I'll take care of you» Sentinel exhaled deeply at the affectionate voice over the audiosensors, his frame instantly relaxed and his fingers unclenched. Again the slight prick inside spark, a sense of rightness, of comfort.

Dimming the optics slightly, Sentinel feels the panel press with more force and it moves aside on its own. Warm metal slid between the slippery servos, a chuckle of irritation from Prime, and the dentoplates clenched only briefly before wet fingers slid into place and the unaccustomed frame began to wriggle. The left manipulator gently pressed the mech tighter against the table. Scooping sticky moisture onto the fingers of the second manipulator, Megatronus gently pressed one into the port. The finger slides in without much obstruction, but the inside is still hot and so tight just for the finger. The tip of the spike rests painfully against his own plates, the desire to be fully inside burning his gut.

There was a click and the sound of an interface panel being pushed back from behind the counsellor, the heated metal touching the open port, sliding between the servos, gaining moisture and pressing its against the bellyplates. Following his curiosity, Sentinel lifted up, looking down between his servos. His optics widened, no, nope, that won't go in, this fragger is huge. Sentinel felt a chill of worry run down the back of his helmet, the blue frame barely flinched, but Prime ran his free palm over the mech, whispering soothing words again.

«It's okay little one, it'll fit you, I'll make you ready.» Megatronus' entire attention is focused only on Sentinel and the latter likes it. He wants to stay just so it doesn't stop, lying in the barely lit cold blue room, with a nice weight on his back and the sounds of systems working behind him.

In a very short time, the walls of the port were already being stretched by three thick fingers, sliding in and out with a sinful squelch. Sentinel vents noisily in response to each movement, not allowing himself to let out a groan at such a simple caress, his not a budding academy student. The port stings slightly, but it is a pleasant feeling, incomparable to anything else. Mech prefers to believe that Prime is here to bring him pleasure, that this is how it should be, these misunderstandings should thank him for all he puts up with, should worship the efficiency and beauty of their counsellor. Megatronus swiped his manipulator across Sentinel thigh, grabbing servo's and lifting it up. Standing like this would be uncomfortable, but long training and stretching had helped noticeably.

Fingers slipped out of the port, a couple strands of lubricant trailing behind them, the now freed palm placed on the curve of waist, as the tip of the spike pressed against the entrance, wiping away a drop of pre-transfluid. Prime gently rubs circles into the Sentinels frame as it enters inch by inch into the prepared but still tight port. The stretching of the walls causes the blue mech to hiss and reach forward with his hands over the surface.

«Shh, it's okay, you're doing great. Remember the breathing practices? Inhale deeply, exhale and relax, you can take it, baby, you can do it.» his voice is velvety, so polite for his height and size. Annoying. Self-confident, huh? Another cocky…but Sentinel follows the advice, exhales, concentrates on relaxing, feels the thick metal filling him in a way he didn't know before, but seems to unconsciously need all his assets. The bumps and bulging segments hit the sensitive wires perfectly, and along with the discomfort comes the pleasure that makes his lips form a circle and a whimpering moan erupts from the energon receiver.

The Sentinel's port is almost suffocating in its narrowness, soft and pliable, it perfectly accepts whatever is given to it, the tip sliding further and deeper, eventually resting against the reservoir. Megatronus looks down, his spike barely halfway in. Good boy.

The counsellor breathes even deeper, clenching his palms into fists and biting his lip to the point of pain. Good, so good, would it be better when he started to move? The answer didn't take long, wiggling his hips slightly, Prime began to gently withdraw so that he could enter again. The sound of joined hips accompanied the shriek and Sentinel instantly covered himself with his manipulators, blocking the path of his voice. The tempo of the thrusts continued to increase, intoxicated by the stretching, he whimpered and moaned, over and over.

«So beautiful and strong, you are unsurpassed, my dear Sentinel, so heavenly» Prime squeezes the base of his spike as tightly as the rest of it is squeezed by crotch. He slides his hand back and forth in time with his hips over the part of the metal that can't go inside due to the limitations of their little counsellor. The wings in front of him are like a magnet, but his hands are busy and he can only stare longingly at their tantalizing twitches.

He's cute. Spicy and cute. Sentinel's scowl and cheeky bottom-up stare made him even more endearing at times, each of the Thirteen agreed with a chuckle. Lucky to get him first, thanks Primus. Lowering the blue servo he'd raised, Megatronus hugged the mech's pelvis and began sliding circles around the most sensitive part of the protoform, causing the hips to twitch and the walls of the port to contract around him. Owning manipulators at the faceplate doesn't help Sentinel be quieter and it's even cuter. Maybe others will hear, find out who got to their mutual favorite and lose their reloads in envy. Yeah, maybe.

The smaller mech rides the slippery caresses on the table, unable to think of anything but the pleasantly cold surface beneath him and the fire between his lower pair of limbs. Full and hot and so good. The quick, rough thrusts make him rub his cheek against a small puddle of his own saliva. The charge of arousal builds rapidly, like a knot tying at the bottom of his abdominal plates, Sentinel presses closer to the caressing fingers, begging not to stop, not thinking about how it sounds, wanting only to feel the release, long-awaited and desired. Just a couple of presses and he collapses, the reboot seeming to come over him in a wave, his legs shaking uncontrollably and his thighs clenching.

As the mech sprawled on the table with muted optics and fluttering port, Megatronus wrapped his large palms around the Sentinel's slender waist and squeezed around it, accelerating his thrusts to as fast and short as possible, with a sigh of pleasure, releasing jets of transfluid inside. Even after rebooting, he didn't want to come out, this port felt right, as if its frame had been restrained by God specifically for this purpose, hes so perfect.

But it is impossible to be inside this wonderful creature for the rest of eternity, so with a slight movement, the spike unwillingly slipped out of the warm mech with a wet squelch. Stepping back a step or two, Megatronus inspected his work with pride. The still stretched crotch clenched around the hollow, the protoform twitching and their mixed fluids flowing down the inside of thighs, golden wings shimmering in the light of the blue diodes on the wall, beckoning again. How pretty…

Leaving him to cool down and rest a bit, Prime walks over to a small sink, and wets a clean rag from a large pile. After tidying himself up, he closes the panels, picks up a new rag, and walks over to the recovering mech.

«Hi again, am I overdoing it?» Sentinel had no words or thoughts in response, everything in his processor blended into a homogeneous mass. He just mumbled something and jammed his faceplate back into the table. There was a hearty chuckle from Prime's side.

"Oh, I beg to differ," stepping closer, the tall mech flipped the figure onto his back and sat him on the table. "but it's more comfortable this way."

The soft cloth gently stroked Sentinels cheek, wiping first the faceplate, then the mech quite unexpectedly slowly knelt down and pulled apart the still twitching servos, causing Sentinel to come to his senses rather quickly. The sight of giant standing like that made the metal heat up again, but there was no more strength left. Meanwhile, the cloth collected the droplets, lines of streaks, and rubbed the sticky thighs with gentle actions. When the purple arm pulled back, the Sentinel's panel slammed shut.

They sat in silence for a while, one staring at his wrists, the other, still kneeling, gazing with blue optics at the features of the faceplate opposite, until he stood up and reached for mech. Slipping his manipulators under shoulders, Megatronus lifted the nearly weightless body and pressed it against his breastplates, holding his back with a hand. His counsellors faceplate expressed complete surprise, to say the least. He didn't seem to have expected such an action from Prime.

Not only did he not expect it, but he was almost furious. What insolence, to hold him in arms like a child or an invalid, this in the spirit of their fragger company!

"Don't look at me like that, my friend, I've tired you enough already, it's up to me to take care of you and bring you to the platform." Megatronus' voice, deep, quiet and poised, echoes off the walls of the palace's corridors, soothing and as if putting him into a trance. Optics fading again, Sentinel snuggles the side of his helmet closer to Prime's frame, sinking into a recharging embrace. Satisfied and smiling beneath his mask, Megatronus runs the fingertips of his second manipulator over the lovely wings and carries hes little prince to personal quarta.

He didn't clean up the drips and streaks on the floor and table, maybe too tired for that and left the job to the janitors. Or maybe he wanted to leave the traces of his little victory for others to see.

(If you like long posts or prefer short posts, please share with me)

[lufyuu]

Every time I read one of your blogs, I wonder what your OCs would be like with a reader who is already married (her husband is probably cheating) and the reader is super romantic (the very affectionate type) Charismatic and affectionate How would they react?

Thanks for reading, we love you 💖❤️

I'm not sure if you read the rules as I have stated that I don't write for fem readers, bc of that, this will be gn reader!

Eun Hyunwoo

Considering you're a married idol, you have to watch who you interact with as people would probably overanalyze your interactions with other people. Even if you're just being friendly, they could misinterpret it as you liking them. Because of that, the friendship between you and Eun Hyunwoo stays that way, just a friendship. Well this is until Eun Hyunwoo was taking pictures of you that he realized your husband was on the couch texting someone while smiling. He didn't think much but couldn't help but to take a small peak at the contents of the chats. That's how he found out you had an unfaithful husband. Hyunwoo wanted to tell you but didn't want to be the reason your marriage failed which is why it was only until the affair was publicized that he finally told you. Of course you were heartbroken, considering how you're already dealing with divorce papers and lawyers, the news that he had been cheating on you for longer than you thought made everything worse. Ever since then, Hyunwoo was the only person you could turn to for comfort. It was partially because he felt bad that he made you feel worse but also partly because he had seen how sweet you were and wanted to get to know you better. After a few months, you eventually started to move on from the whole ordeal. It was then that Hyunwoo and you started going out as more than friends. Each second he spetn time with you, he kept thinking 'how could anyone cheat on them' or 'their ex fumbled' because of how sweet you are. You remember his favorite restaurants, took care of him whenever he was overworked, etc. You had a way with your words, everytime you complimented him, it felt as if he was being complimented by the Gods themselves. Whenever he's around you, he can feel his cheeks get red due to your actions and words alone. To this very day, he still doesn't understand why your pathetic excuse of an ex cheated.

River Sterling

Considering that you're both still in Uni, I'll take it as a boyfriend situation. Nothing can get past River, especially not rumours. He hears everything that goes down in the walls of the Uni you both go to. Including when your now ex was kissing and feeling up 10 different girls in the same janitor's closet. He didn't care about it at first as he didn't know who the hell was pleasuring all these girls but once he found out it was your 'boyfriend'? That's a whole nother story. He wouldn't tell you directly, he set up a whole scenario so you could find out for yourself! The expression on your ex's face and one of his side chicks' were hilarious to River. What wasn't funny was you sobbing uncontrollably. He had thought you'd at least swing at the guy but you didnt. You were in shock and decided to flee the place. River felt guilty at that point and decided to grab your wrist as you were leaving the building. He hated the expression on your face. That day, River did everything he could to cheer you up. Gosh he was even thinking of eliminating your ex for you if you allowed it. River really fell for your charisma and personality. He wasn't used to real affection being given to him without asking anything in return. The more he was with you, the more he fell inlove with you. The two of you would always hold hands on campus, he doesn't hide your relationship like a certain someone once did. Whatever you want, you'll get it and River will make sure of it.

Liu Zihao

I honestly don't know how this trope would work with Liu Zihao seeing as the reader is depicted as a heartless serial killer in his story but let's say you're not heartless in this au and you have a partner in crime who is also your husband. The two of you have been working together for a long time and have great synergy. That is until the one time you two almost got caught, he decided to abandon you for his own safety. This ended up in you having to face not just any jury but Lord Liu himself. You were sure your spouse would come to fetch you sooner or later but he never showed. Out of rage, you decided to reveal where the two of you had been hiding all these months to avoid getting caught. What you didn't expect was being given a special sentencing by Liu Zihao. Being stuck in a luxurious house wasn't that bad afterall. Honestly, after several days being in his home, you warmed up to him. His personality reminded you that of a cat's. Sometimes a dog's too. Even if he didn't say anything, you could feel his eyes on you everytime he was around. Depsite all this, you were almost always bored so you decided to pick up a hobby. Baking and cooking. After testing out a few recipes, you fed some of your cooking to Zihao who was thrilled you cooked for him! Well technically not for him but he doesn't know that, let a man be happy. You were honestly like a house spouse at that point. Not that Zihao minded, he loved tasting your crafts, they always tasted amazing to him. The two of you became something akin to lovers without even mentioning to to one another. At least in Zihao's eyes you're the one for him. Maybe it was because you had lived almost a whole 5 years being married that you treated Zihao as if he was your husband. Your affection made Zihao fell ever so inlove with you. On that topic what ever happened to your husband? Well don't worry about him, he was found guilty for all the crime you did and also a few infidelity crimes. He was executed on the spot of course. Nothing will get in the way of the two of you!

Han Minho

While you were in the military, your husband decided his dick wasn't being tend to enough and stuck it into another person's hole. He did this while you were none the wiser. Even when you sent him letters, he rarely ever read them. Instead, your letters would be thrown in the trash bin next to the bed he was fucking a woman in. You thought he was busy so you brushed it off. Maybe it's something the two of you would have to talk about after you get discharged but until then, you should focus on your duties. Although Minho found you attractive, he didn't act on his feelings knowing you were already married. He was a better man than that. However, when you were discharged early and decided to surprise your husband...Let's just say you came out of the house divorced. You couldn't believe the man that vowed to love you until death would be fucking another woman in your bed no less. While you were getting coffee, eyes swollen from crying the night before, you bumped into someone you didn't expect. Han Minho. He noticed your red eyes and immediately asked what was wrong. He didn't understand how you went from being such a sweet and happy person to having red eyes from crying too much. The two of you sat down as you told him what had happened. The two of you never had a close relationship but you really needed to get the whole thing off your shoulders. Minho understood what you were going through. He offered for you to stay at his place for a bit. Better than whatever hotel you had decided was better than the house you shared with a cheater. It was then that the two of you started going out more. You practically spent every moment from waking up to going to sleep together. You offered to pay some bills but Minho said there was no need for that, he had everything covered. As repayment for not only taking care of you and hearing you out, but also letting you stay, you gave him gifts every week according to what he liked. You noticed even the smallest thing. Like how he would look at a piece of cake for a bit too long. Next morning, he would find the cake in the fridge waiting for him to bite into it. The two of you felt as if this was the life you both wanted. To feel seen and loved by one another. Han Minho will make sure your ex doesn't ever come near you ever again. He'll love you even if death eventually parts the two of you.

Xu RenFeng

Being apart of royalty and the second born of the imperial palace, you were married to a known and trusted general of the family. Renfeng, being the spy he was, knew the two of you were married. He admired you from afar, your personality and smile made his day even if they weren't towards him and rather, towards a man undeserving of your love. He wanted a reason to steal you away and a reason was given to him alright. Renfeng had spotted your unfaithful husband in a brothel with 4 women all up in his personal space, touching him in places one shouldnt ever unless they were married. The general not only stayed still but even encouraged it. He was about to slice his throat but didn't want to cause a scene. Renfeng waited until the general exited the place, satisfied with his infidelity and sliced his head on the spot. You woke up the next day to screams in the palace. Not knowing what was wrong, you got up quickly to see what the fuss was all about, only to see your husband's severed head stuck on the spikes of the outerwall. It had a note on it, 'undeserving of your love'. It seems whoever planted this clearly wanted you to see it, and the note. They wanted your attention. Well Renfeng did get what he wanted after kidnapping you and taking you to where he thought you would be 'safe'. His definition of safe is definitely contradicting with yours. It'll take you some time to be affectionate towards your kidnapper but he'll be on the receiving end of your affection soon enough, he just has to play the waiting game.

~~

Honestly this was a bit too long😥

[da-rulah]

Come Home to Me - Secondo x f!reader

Summary: No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with... 

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 10.3k (can I EVER write anything short?)

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST. jealous themes, themes of abandonment, poor childhood, mentions of alcohol addiction, domestic fights, anger, hurt, mild violence, bad break-up, description of panic attack, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v sex 

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

Secondo doesn't get anxious.  

At least, that's what people would think to look at him; the burly, scary, angry looking Papa who would practically glide through the hallways of the Ministry he headed. And to look at him now, today, people wouldn't suggest anxiety be the baseline emotion for him either. But it certainly was; masked by a particularly foul mood, but it was definitely anxiety.  

Because he'd just heard from his elder brother, that you were returning to the Ministry. 

It had been years since he'd seen you; he'd been a Cardinal then. He'd always been a hardened man, bitter from his childhood of neglect and abuse at the hands of his deadbeat father, but... you had been the softness to balance him out. Until he'd fucked that all up, as he was always destined to do. He always knew his fiery temper would fuck him over someday.  

And he'd been right.... 

8 Years Ago. 

"You can't go," he told you firmly, no hint at all that he was willing to compromise on this.  

"Secondo, please..." you tried to reason with him, "I have to! This is my job!"  

Secondo chewed on the inside of his cheek, shaking his head as he looked down at his gloved fingers picking wool bobbles from his cassock. He stood awkwardly across from you in his quarters, letting you hover near the door as if you weren't welcome in here. The atmosphere felt cold, frosty even.  

"You know, it's really rather telling that you would rather go swanning off on some tiny little tour of Europe with mio fratello than stay by my side," he rages, "This new little project of his is bound to fail, you know. It did for our father, it will for him."  

Frankly, you were dumbfounded by the idea he thought you'd prefer to spend time with Primo than him. Of course you didn't, but you had no choice. Your job at Primo's side was an important one and not exactly negotiable. Secondo had never mentioned any form of jealousy before now, so why on earth would he bring that up if not just out of sheer spite? 

"Ah, your silence says all. You know what? Go. Go ahead. But do not expect me to wait for you, Sorella."  

"W-what... what do you mean?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.  

"You want to disappear for months on end with Primo? Fine. But I have needs, and I cannot be expected to wait for your return. I will not become some idiota with blue balls because his girlfriend is too busy fucking his fratello in another country."  

"You really think... what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you shrieked. How dare he. "Secondo, if you loved me at all you wouldn't even think of doing such a thing. And you'd trust me enough to know I would never!"  

Secondo scoffed, turning in his place and heading towards the small liquor cabinet he kept in the corner of the living space. He wrenched open the door and pulled out a bottle of whiskey along with a tumbler, and poured himself a small drink.  

You stood and watched him, tears now silently trickling from your eyes. You couldn't understand why he was reacting like this. You'd been happily in a relationship for almost ten years, celebrated so much together. But ever since he became a Cardinal, he'd been overworked, stretched thin by the clergy and reminded consistently that he was only second best to his eldest brother. Secondo by name, Secondo by nature, he had confided in you numerous times. He had a bitter side to him, you knew that. It had been present his entire life, a product of a neglectful childhood.  

But he'd never, not once, projected that side onto you. Until becoming a Cardinal, slowly imploding on himself at the weight of the pressure put on him.  

"It's one way to establish yourself, I'll give you that. Quicker than sleeping with a mere Cardinal, eh?" he chuckled, devoid of humour and instead laced with venom. Had he... really just insinuated that?  

"You don't mean that." 

"Do I not?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a vile smirk. He quickly necked the drink in his hand, hissing at the burn of it down his throat that he'd come to relish more and more lately. He was soon pouring himself another.  

"My job requires me on this tour. It's eight weeks, Secondo. That's all. Sister Imperator said-" 

You were interrupted by a sudden smash - Secondo had thrown his half full glass against the far wall of his living space. It splintered into shards, leaving a splatter against the fading wallpaper. You felt droplets of it hit your arm, a few splinters of glass reaching too without harm. You flinched naturally anyway, both at the sudden noise and the feeling on your skin.  

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IMPERATOR SAID! IF YOU LOVED ME AS YOU SAY YOU DO, YOU WOULD STAY WITH ME. BY MY SIDE. NOT HIS!" he screamed, storming towards you and grabbing your arms by your sides. You stiffened in fear - he'd never laid a hand on you before. "You say you love me, and yet, you abandon me."  

"N-no... I'm not-" you were shaking in his grasp, your eyes wide and words failing you.  

"If you go, I will never forgive you."  

You stared at him, your reddened eyes wide with fear and desperation. You were stuck... You had to go, you had no choice. Being fired from your job would mean the end of your residency at the Ministry and you would lose everything. But go, and you lose Secondo.  

He was overreacting, and you weren't sure why. Did he truly believe you were trying to sleep your way to a top seat within the clergy? Did he really think you'd run off with Primo, given the chance?  

"I... I love you..." you whimpered, voice shaking and quiet as your lip trembled. His piercing monochrome eyes searched yours, waiting for you to tell him you'd stay. But you couldn't. The Ghost Project needed you, and Primo needed you. You had no choice, but he couldn't see it that way.  

Without a word, he shoved you backwards, letting you stumble to keep your balance as he stepped back, picking up the open bottle of whiskey from where he'd left it.  

"Just go," he snarled, taking a drink from the bottle, before storming into his bedroom and slamming the door, your body jolting from the sound as you stood and broke down on the spot.  

Not going, you would lose everything. But going... you had lost him. 

Those eight weeks on the road were hell - and not the Hell you had been promised.  

Secondo hadn't spoken a word to you after you'd told him you were going. Your relationship was over the second he slammed that bedroom door. You spent any down time you had hiding from the world, crying into the last scrap of his clothing you had snuck from his things that still smelled like him.  

You would wonder constantly what had changed in him, why suddenly he couldn't see past his bitterness and had thought so little of you. He had ignored your phone calls, your letters... He had stewed in his anger and his growing alcohol dependency, buried his sorrows in anyone who would consent, and driven himself into the ground until his younger brother, Terzo, had decided enough was enough and harshly forced him to face his reality. 

But it was too late. 

As soon as you had come back from your first tour with The Ghost Project, you had put a request in for a transfer to an Abbey across the country. You had been hurt too badly, the thought of having to see Secondo in the halls, leading sermons, hosting seminars had burned in your chest. Primo had tried to talk you out of it, but your mind was made up and solidified only by the look of dismissal Secondo gave you when he'd seen your face for the first time during Mass.  

The grief you felt was not only for your relationship, but the man you once knew and loved so deeply. He wasn't him anymore; and you couldn't watch him live in indifference while you were so incredibly heartbroken.  

Within a week of your request, you were packed up and on a bus to a much smaller, more quaint Abbey in the midwest, where you would help to lead a congregation as a Sister of elevated importance.  

Over time, your wounds healed. You dated, albeit in brief stints. You devoted yourself to the church and rose in the ranks of your own volition - not because you had opened your legs to a Papa or higher ranking clergy member, as had been predicted by your former lover. 

You were doing well, focussed on you and your congregation.  

Secondo, however, had never been the same since you left. 

As if he wasn't already an angry and bitter man, he became insufferable in the years following your departure. Sure enough, Terzo's intervention had managed to quell the alcoholism, but it had done nothing for the anger that consistently simmered at surface level at his father, his brothers, his childhood... but mostly at himself.  

He'd never been able to forgive himself for the way he had treated you; the only good thing he had ever had in his life, and he managed to torture you slowly, like a child plucking the wings from a butterfly before delivering the final blow. Even when he'd seen you for the first time after the tour, he couldn't look you in the eye.  

Then he'd never seen you again.  

Now that Primo had told him you were coming back, your latest promotion to the highest ranking sibling beneath Sister Imperator herself bringing you back to the Ministry and the headquarters of the Satanic Church, he was petrified.  

He wanted to run. He wanted to hide. Given the option, he'd abdicate from his position with immediate effect and live out the remainder of his days in a cabin in the Italian Apennines. But that wasn't an option, and he had to face this.  

He had to face you.  

Sister Imperator had called a meeting of the higher Clergy to welcome you back, and to explain your place in the Ministry to those you'd be working closely with. That included Papa Secondo.  

Papa.  

When you'd first heard that news, you couldn't help the small smile that had tugged at your lips. He'd always wanted that title, always deserved it. You were happy for him, glad to see that he was where he rightfully should be.  

But when you saw him for the first time in that meeting room, sat in his chair at the head of the table, that happiness had dissipated. Fear and dread had filled you, a pain in your chest you thought you'd got over long ago. But the scowl on his face told you the feelings he had toward you were still just anger, spite, bitterness. And no matter how much time you'd had to heal, that scar still pulsated and burned in you.  

You remained professional, hardened much like Imperator. You had to be. If you showed him how weak he still made you feel, your authority might be brought into question. You'd worked too hard for that. 

As the meeting adjourned, the table got up to leave and you along with it, until you heard his deep and commanding voice from the end of the table.  

"Sorella _______, I ask you stay for a moment."  

You froze, too frightened too look back at him, too weak to tell him no. Primo and Terzo, who had both been sat on the opposite side of the table to you, shared a look that read as 'oh, shit...' before their glares fell on their brother. Secondo ignored them, shooing the rest of the clergy out of the doors.  

Nobody said a word, simply leaving quickly and quietly until you were alone with Papa. 

A moment of silence passed between you both; Secondo had so much he wished to say to you, so many apologies and regrets he'd practised so often in the last eight years but they all vanished when your eyes fell on his. He saw the fear in them; it reminded him of that night. 

"I... It's... You look well." 

That was it? That was all he could say to you?  

You drew in a deep breath, allowing yourself a second of composure before clasping your hands together in front of you and masking your disappointment and hurt with a business-like demeanour. 

"As do you." 

"How have you been?" he asks, although it's cold and merely to fill a silence.  

"Busy. Yourself?" you mimic his tone; you'd rather be anywhere but here right now. 

"Troppo (me too)." 

You nodded. "Congratulations. 'Papa'... what you always wanted," you forced a smile, gesturing at the robes and mitre he adorned.  

"Ah, sí, sí..." he kicked at the titles at his feet, shuffling as he stared down at them awkwardly. "Sorella, I-" 

"It was good to see you, Papa," his head snapped up at the use of his title, it sounding foreign and wrong coming from you. "Now if you'll excuse me..." you dismissed yourself, bowing your head to him slightly and gathering your notebook and pen before making your way out of the meeting room. Secondo stared after you, lost with his apology he'd finally found and mustered up the courage to deliver still dangling from the tip of his tongue.  

Re-familiarising yourself with the Ministry's halls was hardly needed as you traipsed through them late into the evening. But that had just been an excuse...  

In fact, what you were truly doing was torturing yourself with the ghosts of a past life. It was as if you could see them, plain as day; the ghostly figures of a young and fresh faced Sister of Sin with a smile that beamed so bright, and of a young Bishop, his face free of deep set wrinkles and the permanent scowl the world knew today.  

They run through the halls ahead of you, hand in hand. Her laughter bounces from the stone walls as he tries to shush her, stifling his own laughs and the grin across his face. You followed them, chasing the memory through the halls.  

Rounding the corner, they stop outside of a door. The young Bishop pulls the Sister close to him, tumbling back into the doorframe with a thud and another string of stifled giggles. His palm caresses her cheek, a look of pure adoration in his mismatched eyes before he leans in, pressing his lips to hers as she melts into his embrace against the door.  

He reaches behind him, turning the doorknob and the two spectres disappear through the wood, the door remaining closed and leaving you alone in the empty corridor.  

You kept staring after them, tears heavy and building in your waterline. Your hands trembled at your sides, a nauseous feeling settling in your stomach as you remembered so clearly the night those ghosts ran through the halls together, spending their first night alone and in each other's arms in secret.  

From what you knew, he still lived in the same suite. The door you stared at still belonged to him, and the likelihood was he was in there right now. 

A part of you ached to talk to him. You wanted to know what had changed him all those years ago, still craving answers to questions long since forgotten. But part of you knew it was a conversation not worth having; after all, what good would it do now? 

Footsteps echoed from the opposite end of the end hall, stomping on the stone as they drew closer. You ducked behind the corner, barely peeking from your hiding spot as Secondo drew closer to his quarters, that scowl still etched onto his face when he pulled his keys from a pocket beneath his robes. Before unlocking the door, he hesitated, pressing his forehead to the wood and shutting his eyes to take a deep breath. 

You allowed yourself a better view, peering out from the corner to take in the look of exhaustion, of sadness on his features as he leaned against his door. Pain seared through your chest, flashbacks of that exact expression from years ago flooding your memory, from times where the world would get on top of him and threaten to crush his shoulders with the weight they added.  

You were the only thing that could comfort him then. Nothing else would work – you wondered what he did these days to ease the ache. Little did you know, nothing could.  

He’d mask it well, yes, and attempt to bury it deep down beneath layers of a personality that wasn’t totally his, but the fact remained he was still just so sad beneath it all.  

Secondo straightened himself up with a deep breath, and pushed the key into the door turning to unlock it. You sighed quietly to yourself and turned to leave out of sight, but Secondo stiffened, his head whipping around to the corner where he caught the back of your head as you turned. He’d heard that sigh, known who it belonged to instantly.  

“________?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d have expected, like anything above a whisper would have you darting down the corridor never to be seen again.  

You froze in place, aware he can now see you but unable to move. You don’t want to face him. You don’t want to run from him.  

“Wait, don’t... don’t go,” he whispered; something he wishes he’d said to you the day you’d left the Ministry instead of hiding in a pit of his own self-loathing and self-pity. He thinks you’re going to run; but you can’t. You’re just... stuck. 

He doesn’t know what to do, just staring at the back of your head as his heart rate raises and his breath quickens. He’s panicking; he knows that. He’d learned what a panic attack was in the days after you’d left the Ministry; like a heart attack.  

You heard him behind you, the sound of his panic as words failed him. Your head whipped around to see him stood there, clutching his robes over his chest as he stared wide eyed at you. You’d never seen him like this, and it frightened you.  

“S-Secondo? Are you... are you alright?” you asked, rushing to his side on instinct, yet stopping yourself just a few feet away from him with your hands outstretched. You weren’t sure if you should touch him, if you should cross the boundary that not only he, but you had put up so long ago. 

“C-can’t... can’t breathe...” he panted, leaning against the stone doorway and squeezing his eyes shut.  

Get him inside, make him comfortable, your inner voice told you. You looked to the side, seeing his keys still dangling in the lock and turned them for him, pushing open the door to an empty and cold apartment that sent such a wave of nostalgia through you it could have knocked you clean onto your ass. But you shook it off, reaching for Secondo’s shoulder and gently guiding him through the door.  

“Sit down,” you instructed softly, reaching for the light switch behind you, your arm working on muscle memory alone. You didn’t have to think about it, no time in the current predicament. Secondo stumbled to the couch, sitting down with a thump and leaning back into the pillows while you shut the door and made your way over to the kitchen.  

Reaching for the cupboard you knew had glasses in – nothing had been changed since the day you’d left – you picked one out to fill with water, then coming down to his level and kneel at his feet to remove any feel of intimidation standing before him would have brought.  

“Secondo, hey...” you caught his attention, his white eye opening to look at you through his lashes. “Can you sit up for me?”  

He took in a deep lungful of breath and sat himself upright, his forearms coming to rest on his knees as he hunched over. His breathing was erratic – some deep and long, some short and staccato. He was trying desperately to regain control, to not come across as weak in front of you but he feared you being in front of him was truly the reason he was so breathless.  

He always did used to say you took his breath away... 

“Here, drink.” You held up the glass in front of him. He stared at it for a moment, his eyes still wide and panicked. “Papa, please...” 

“Don’t... D-don't call... me that...” he told you, but he didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired, mostly, between the panicked breaths. You chose not to argue for the time being.  

“I’m sorry... Still, drink. It'll help,” you promised, raising the glass again.  

He took it from you, gulping a third of the glass down and swallowing with a loud exhale. The irregular pattern calmed considerably, the cold of the water cooling the heat that had risen to his face and chest in his panic.  

“Good... See? It helps. Now just... breathe with me, okay? Copy what I do,” you told him, taking in a deep breath and counting to four in your head as you did so. He copied you, no questions asked, no arguments; just breathing in as you did. After four, you slowly began to exhale, counting to eight this time. He copied you again, his exhale a little shaky as if his lungs were clawing at his exhale, trying desperately to hold it in.  

You repeated the pattern a few times, holding eye contact the whole time. He seemed to be searching for something in your face, any hint of hatred, anger, resentment... but nothing. His panic eased when all he found was concern, and the same softness he remembered so fondly. Able to find no negativity in your expression, he could relax and give your breathing technique the room to work and calm him down.  

“Mi dispiace. I... I don’t know what came over me,” he says, embarrassment and sadness in his tone. He wanted to hide again, staring down at the glass in his hands instead of at you, sitting quietly and awkwardly on your knees in front of him.  

“No, it’s... fine. I’m just glad you’re alright,” you smile awkwardly, shuffling back and standing, dusting the non-existent dust from your knees. “I’ll see myself out,” you said, turning around to leave, “Just rest for the eveni-”  

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes focussed on the wall by the front door.  

The wallpaper had never been changed in all those years, the colour of the pattern worn and yet, there were small rips in the paper, tiny grooves carved into the wall and a very distinctive faded brown stain.  

Your eyes zeroed in on it immediately. It wasn’t particularly large, or even that dark against the wallpaper but you couldn’t help but notice, and your chest tightened. 

“Ah, I uh... have been meaning to redecorate,” Secondo chuckled from the couch behind you, with no humour at all. His tone was different to earlier that day in the meeting room; that cold indifference had vanished, as if the curtain had fallen and his mask had dropped. He was too weak to put up a front, too tired of playing the resentful scary Papa character. 

You turned to look at him, a slight look of pity mixed with something akin to longing that he tried to ignore for his own sanity. It would do him no good to delude himself into thinking you might have missed him as much as he had missed you in the last eight years. 

“But then... I suppose it served as a reminder,” he shrugs, averting your gaze and taking another sip of water where he sat.  

“Of what?” you asked, fragility to your voice. Secondo sighed, meeting your eyes again.  

“The biggest mistake I ever made.” 

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, his eyes watching you closely as you shuffled in your spot.  

“Do you... get panic attacks often?” you asked, trying to divert attention away from that conversation. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that just yet, if ever. Why cut into a healed scar? 

“Not anymore, but... I used to. After you left,” he said matter-of-fact, no hint of accusation at all. “It used to start as shortness of breath like this,” he waved his hand in the air to illustrate his point, “but eventually, I suppose, I had to learn to breathe without you.” 

Tears welled in your waterline, and you had to look down at the toes of your boots to flush them away.  

“I’m truly, so incredibly sorry, amore mio...” he whispered, willing you to look at him, to hear him finally say what he’s wanted to for years.  

“W-we don’t have to... do this...” you stuttered, holding back a sob as a tear fell to the floor where you stared at your feet. Hearing him call you that again... If you weren’t careful, it would consume you. Secondo didn’t miss your tear, his chest tightening when it hit the floor. 

“No, per favore... Let me say this, I need to get this out,” he begs, standing to move towards you, his hands outstretched like he wanted to take yours in them, to hold onto you as he apologised. You whipped your hands from in front of you and took several steps back. 

“That’s not fair,” you scolded, “you need to get this out? What, to clear your conscience? So you can feel better?” you accused. Your anger wasn’t unwarranted, he knew that. But he could see how much what he’d done had affected you – still affected you. The guilt ate him alive. It would always eat him alive, no matter how many times he apologised. 

“No, I just... I didn’t want to hurt you, I want to make it right!” he pleaded. You shook your head with a smile at his audacity. 

“Make it right? Now? After eight years?” you scoffed. 

“Well okay if I can’t make it right, just... bearable. Per favore, amore mio!” The nickname slipped from his lips without thought; it still felt natural to him. You were still his ‘love’ after all – you never stopped being that. But hearing it again for the second time that evening was like the venomous sting of a scorpion’s tail to your heart.  

“Stop calling me that, you lost that right,” you cried, having to bite your tongue from unleashing all of your anger, all of your hurt on him.  

“I... I know. Mi scusi...” he quietened his voice, looking down at his hands in shame. His shift in demeanour stunned you into silence, your chest heaving with uneven breaths as you calmed yourself from the point of near-eruption. “You should be angry at me.” 

You scoffed at his audacity. “Thank you for your permission,” you spat.  

“Where do we go from here?” he asked, looking up to meet your eyes finally. His looked strained, tired. Even disguised by the paint, he seemed weary and frail. “Can I say anything at all?” 

You mulled it over in your mind, running in circles. Was there anything he could say? Would you listen to anything right now, or were you too riled up to care about his excuses? The younger you, the you who loved him so deeply all those years ago was dying to get the answers she craved. She reached out to you from your past life, desperate for closure, just to understand no matter what those answers were. 

“You can tell me why.” 

Secondo’s brow furrowed. “W-why?”  

He seemed scared, like he hadn’t expected this but how could he not? What was the point in him apologising if neither he nor you knew why he was apologising, what his 'sorry’ was for? 

“Yes. Tell me why. Tell me why you suddenly thought so little of me, that you genuinely believed I would try to sleep my way to the top. Tell me why you were so adamant I was choosing your brother over you. Tell me why you turned into a bitter and twisted shell of the cardinal I adored. Tell me why you chose the bottle over me when you came home at night. Tell me why you ever doubted how completely, soul-destroyingly in-fucking-love with you I was!” you screamed at him, getting louder and louder with each passing syllable and pointing an accusatory finger at him as tears of rage freely flowed down your cheeks.  

“Because it was easier!” he yelled back, meeting your gaze, “It was easier than watching you leave with him! I was jealous, sí, because everybody always chose Primo. Ever since I became a Cardinal, I was told that was as far as I could go, that was it for me! Primo was the golden boy, he was Papa, he was going to find a wife, have a kid and that kid would be Papa and where would that leave me? Cast aside, again, as always! Fuck, even Terzo got more attention for his damn looks than I ever got for my hard work, my devotion!” 

You shrugged and stared at him incredulously as he yelled. “Why was any of that my fault?” you screeched. 

“B-because you... you were choosing him too!” his chest heaved, and for the first time ever you saw tears in his eyes too, glinting off the light of the room. “I needed you, ______. You were the only one who saw me for who I was, and you chose him too!” 

You tried to protest in anger, shaking your head and taking a step towards him to defend yourself but he continued before you got the chance. 

“Nihil... he always said I would never be Primo. But as Cardinal, I was expected to do everything for him. I lived in his shadow every... fucking... day. It drove me mad...” he looked up at the ceiling as he screamed through grit teeth, trying to let gravity defy the building tears, “And then Papa was to go on tour again, to bring back the Ghost project and perform for thousands of adoring followers and I was to sit here and wait for the only person I’ve ever loved to forget me and fall for him like the rest of the masses...” He was sobbing in anger now, forgetting the fight against the onslaught of waterworks and giving in to the pain he felt.  

“I never... I never thought you slept with him. Not really,” he admitted. “But I was told over and over it was only a matter of time... And I believed them. So, you ask me why? Because it was easier to believe you had already fallen under his spell and remove myself from the equation, than to watch it happen while I was still by your side.” 

You were stunned into silence, watching the man you believed for the last eight years had become void of emotion spill every single one he’d buried spill from him. He’d never told you any of this, not once expressed any resentment to his elder brother. And Nihil... you wanted to ring that old man’s neck. 

“I just... I got lost, amore. The more I drank, the worse it got. The bigger the disappointment,” he’d stopped shouting at you, his voice strained and quiet, “You started to hate me, and I took it as proof of my suspicions that you would someday leave. And then when you did...” his voice cracked, the words sticking in his throat. He sank to sit on the edge of the couch, defeated and weak. He removed his mitre and held his head in his hands, quietly sobbing with cloudy black tears from his makeup dripping to the floor. 

You stood awkwardly playing with your fingers, wiping your own tears away with the back of your hand as they fell. Your lip trembled holding back a breakdown. Now, you were beginning to understand the weight of the responsibility he’d bared back then, of the pain of his dismissal and rejection throughout his life. It still hurt you deeply that he couldn’t see past it to know you would never have chosen anyone over him – but at least you understood. 

“Terzo got me clean after you left,” he said, sniffling and raising his head but still unable to look you in the eye. Instead, his gaze focussed in on the corner of the room, at where the liquor cabinet used to sit. You followed his eyes and noticed it wasn’t there anymore, now an empty corner he’d never filled with anything else. “But it took a long time. I knew what I’d done, but... I didn’t want to face it. I’ve been so angry at myself, amore. Angry at everyone, but never at you.” He looked you in the eye then, “it was never your fault.” 

“No, non è vero, fottuto idiota, (no, it wasn’t, you fucking idiot,)” you seethed, taking a deep breath and shaking your head. Secondo chuckled humourlessly. Oh, how he’d missed you scolding him in Italian. 

“Sí, sí... fottuto idiota,” he sighed, dragging his palms down his face and smearing his tears with his paints. He looked down at his gloves, smeared with grey stains where the white mixed with the black, and he chuckled again. “Sono un disastro, no? (I am a mess, no?)” he said, holding his hands up briefly for you to see the mess before he removed both gloves, dropping them to the couch beside him. You scoffed again, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips; but you hid it from him, looking down at your feet again. “In more ways than one, I have always been a mess. But it was never your job to clean that mess up.” 

“Didn’t stop me from wanting to,” you told him. You looked up again, now that the almost-smile had faded, “I loved you more than you ever realised.” 

Secondo nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “My biggest regret is not seeing that at the time. I’ll never know love like that again...” 

You tilted your head to the side in pity, scanning the man before you who looked and sounded so much more broken than you could have imagined. You had no idea this was affecting him still to this day, no clue that the angry persona you’d left behind hadn’t just created a bitter old man who’d forgotten what he was bitter at – he was, in fact, bitter and angry toward himself. He’d never forgiven himself.  

But how could he? How could he ever forgive himself for what he’d put you through, for treating you like he did. He was disgusted by himself, but in true Emeritus fashion, he didn’t know how to deal with his emotions, and it spiralled out of control. This was his personality now, a figurehead to be terrified and intimidated by.  

You remembered how he could be though. Those figures you followed through the halls earlier that evening, that had guided you back to Secondo’s front door just when he’d needed you; they reminded you, however painfully, that there was a time when he was happy. Both of you were so happy. 

“Do you remember the first night I spent here?” you asked him after a few moments of silence, raising your arms to hug at yourself, enveloping yourself in a protective shield in case this train of thought went terribly awry and you needed your defences up.  

Secondo looked up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. You continued, giving yourself no time to back out of your train of thought, and no time for him to reply.  

“Sister Imperator had almost caught us in the gardens. We were making out, behind one of the bushes when we heard her heels on the cobbles...” you laughed. Your smile was so beautiful to him still, just like all those years ago when you’d met eighteen years ago. It infected him, tugging at the corners of his own lips as he smirked and let his mind wonder back to that night.  

“Sí, I had hair...” he chuckled.  

“We ran... we just, ran...” you sighed, smile widening as you took a small step towards him. “You dragged me through the halls until we stopped hearing her heels.” 

“The old bat could never have kept up with us.”  

“No...” you laughed. “You kept shushing me, as if you weren’t the one making me laugh.” 

“As much as I enjoyed your laughter, amore, you were going to blow our cover,” he teased. “I believe I had no choice but to silence you... if memory serves me.” His smile faltered as he remembered that kiss in his doorway, leading you inside his quarters for the first time, spending the night entangled in and bewitched by everything you.  

What would he give to kiss you again? What would he sacrifice for a chance to hold you in his arms one more time?  

Everything. Anything.  

“Eighteen years passed by so quickly,” you sighed. “I always thought I would spend the rest of my years with you...”  

“Sí... anche me... (yes... me too...) I took you for granted, amore mio- oh...” he caught himself, a sinking feeling in his chest, “Mi scusi... I must stop calling you that.” 

Guilt settled in your stomach for the way you’d scolded him for that earlier. Truthfully, you desperately wanted him to never stop calling you that. 

“You... you don’t have to... stop, I mean,” you stuttered, twiddling your fingers and avoiding his eyes. When you did look up at him through your lashes, you saw the look of confusion in his features, and the faint flicker of hope in his eyes.  

“But... I thought you said-?” 

“Y-yeah I did, I just... I was angry,” you shrugged, folding your arms protectively again, as if literally shielding your heart. 

“Are you not angry now?” he asked gingerly, gently ‘poking the bear’ as it were. 

“Yes... No... I am, but...” you stopped yourself, sighing and dropping your arms by your sides in exasperation. “I want to be. I want to be so angry at you. I want to hate you and scream at you. Hell, I’d punch you if I could but...” 

He stood then, taking a step forward. “But what, amore...?” You met his eyes, biting your lip as he took another small, yet significant, step towards you. Could you say it? Were you brave enough?  

“If I’m angry, it’s because I still care, isn’t it?” you asked rhetorically, “I’m angry because... because I still love you.”  

Time stood still for Secondo. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest tightening at the admission that you – sweet, wonderful you – still loved him, despite the hell he had put you through. 

He acted on impulse, no coherent thought process registering. Closing the distance between you, he pulled you to him by your waist, desperately pressing his lips to yours. As if you had expected it, you immediately melted in his hold, your eyes fading shut and lips encapsulating his in submission. You were tired of hating him, tired of being angry. Being honest with yourself, you had only ever wanted to be in his arms again since that night he told you to leave.  

Finally, here you were.  

His bare hands grasped at the fabric of your habit like he was clinging for life, dangling over a gorge only you could pull him up from. You felt much the same, your fists balled in his robes pulling him to you by his chest. Your lips fit together as they always had, moving in nostalgic synchronicity. You felt alive again, synapses in your brain firing in every which way and alighting the spark you’d let dim to nothing but an ember until now. 

Secondo pressed his forehead to yours when he parted from you, his eyes remaining shut while he coped with the racing of his heart. It wasn’t until he raised one of his hands to cup your cheek that he realised your cheeks were wet with fresh tears. 

“Amore...” he breathes, tickling your lips below his, “I have loved you every single day of the last eighteen years...” 

You don’t bother holding back the sob that jumps from your chest – you couldn’t if you tried. Secondo’s thumb swept over your cheek, wiping away the tears as he shushed you gently. Your fists, balled so tight in his robes, had started to shake as your bottom lip did.  

“I-I’m scared, Secondo... If I let you in again, I-I couldn’t... couldn’t handle losing you again,” you wept.  

“No, no no no amore mio, I wouldn’t be so foolish. Not again. Per favore, credimi... ti amo (Please, believe me... I love you,” he begged. 

“Sí, credo che tu, (yes, I believe you,)” you told him, your lips finding his once again and fists pulling him impossibly close to you. He huffed a sigh of relief into the kiss, his fingertips ghosting over your jawline gently despite the desperate nature of the act.  

You tilted your head to reach a more comfortable angle; one where you could run your tongue along his bottom lip, begging for progression. He submitted with no hesitation, allowing entry with a low hum from deep within his ribcage. The hand around your waist squeezed at your hip as your kiss deepened to desperation.  

Breathlessly you pulled apart from him. “This is where I’m supposed to be,” you told him firmly with a sob, slamming your fist to his chest, “this is home.” 

“Sí, amore,” he gripped your wrist, holding your fist tightly against him, “come home to me.” 

You crumbled then, your knees buckling as you wept into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving in to his own sobs as he held you upright. He pressed his lips to your forehead, peppering kisses across your face wherever he could reach until finally he found your lips once again.  

Truly, his arms did feel like home. You hadn’t felt so complete ever since the last time he’d held you, an emptiness you’d tried to fill with work and frivolous relationships but nothing and no one could ever fill the void he’d left. Now you were home, you wouldn’t dare let go again.  

You’d never kissed anybody so desperately in all your life, bruisingly desperate in fact. Your lips pressed and moulded together so hard, it was bordering on painful – yet nothing could have been more painful than the last eight years. No, you needed this. You needed him.  

“Take me to bed, Secondo...” you mumbled into his lips. Secondo stilled, his hands coming to sit at your waist and pushing you back; not even half a step away from him, yet you already missed the warmth of his chest along with the rhythmic thumping of his heart.  

“Amore, I don’t wish to rush you...” he spoke cautiously, his eyes scanning your face. “We don’t have to go there tonight...” 

There he was; for a split second, you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of the man you’d fallen in love with eighteen years ago... His paints vanished, his deep-set wrinkles smoothing out, his hair tucked and poking out from beneath his Bishop’s biretta. That same kindness, that care and cautiousness of the night he first brought you to his quarters...  

He’d said the same to you then, ever so chivalrous at all times but you knew then as you knew now – you were ready. You needed him. 

Slowly, you raised your palm to his cheek, noting the strange feeling of his paint-covered skin on your fingertips. You traced the lines where the white met the black, smudged together in places where his tears had streaked down his face. It amazed you how much the years had aged him, what the stress had done to him and yet, he was just as handsome to you as the day you’d met. 

“I think we’ve both waited long enough, caro,” you smiled, relishing in the way his brow softened, and his eyes glinted with happiness. He brought his hand to yours, holding it in place as he turned his head to press kisses to your palm. He laced his fingers with yours turning to the direction of his bedroom and leading the way. Once inside, Secondo took a step away from you.  

“Un momento, amore. There is something I must do...” he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, letting go before he stepped into the bathroom to the left. You could hear the faucet squeaking as he turned it, the unmistakable rush of water hitting the porcelain sink below. 

In his absence, you couldn’t help the way your gaze wondered as you remembered the details around you. The furniture remained unchanged but worn slightly with age, the shine of the dark wood not as prevalent as it had been. The bookshelf in the corner was still covered in tiny knick-knacks and ornaments, some of which you had bought him. One still sat on his nightstand; a small statue of Baphomet depicted as he traditionally was. On the other nightstand – the side that used to be yours – sat the same deep green glass vase you remembered, all the shine gone as it sat empty and covered in a layer of dust.  

That vase used to never sit empty, fresh flowers in it constantly. Secondo made a point of it, always replacing the flowers before they could wilt too much with different varieties all the time. He loved how it would make you smile, how you would bury your nose in the petals to smell the latest additions. Seeing it sat so sad and empty stung a little, but you understood.  

So enthralled in your journey down memory lane, you didn’t notice the end to the running water next door, nor the footsteps of the man coming to stand with his chest to your back as one arm snaked around your waist, the other tilting your chin up to look back at him so he could press his lips back to yours again.  

You turned in his arms, sinking into another slow and passionate kiss. When you raised your palms to his cheeks, you distinctly felt the smooth skin now void of the greasy and smeared paints. This was how you remembered him; not with the full skull paint and certainly not smeared with tears and despair. He removed his paints for that very reason. 

Secondo removed your veil from your head, letting your hair fall around your face in that beautiful way he always loved. Within seconds his fingers were threading their way through your roots while his other hand held you tightly to him by your hips. It was all too easy to lose yourself to his kiss, quickly becoming more needy as time ticked by.  

He made sure to move at your pace, though. It wasn’t until you started to undo his shirt buttons – his robe removed and folded in the bathroom moments ago already – that he even attempted to undo the zipper at the back of your habit. It wasn’t until you kicked off your boots that he did the same to his loafers. It wasn’t until your hands scrambled for the belt around his hips that he let it slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet. It wasn’t until he was stripped bare by your frantic hands that he allowed himself to unclasp your bra and drag it down your arms, followed by your panties that hit the floor with the rest of the hastily removed garments.  

He was too frightened you would startle easily, realise what you were doing and suddenly slap yourself with the reality that you still hadn’t forgiven him, and run off feeling embarrassed and angry. He needed to give you the space to run safely, if you needed to.  

But as you had already told him – you were going nowhere. He was certain of that now.  

Now completely exposed to each other, there was nowhere to hide. The warmth of his bare skin under your palms sent a thrill through your body, already responding to the way his fingertips dug into the meat of your hips as he kissed you with a new fervour.  

With your hands cradling his jawline, you stepped backwards, bringing him with you until you were able to sit on the edge of his bed, shuffling back while he crawled over you. It was too easy not to separate your kiss from each other, in tune with one another enough that you could move as one. You felt the pillows behind you, laying back and bringing him with you as he settled between your thighs.  

Already, you could feel him pressing against your core. You ached for him, desperate to have him. It was as if there were pulses of arousal flowing through your body and accumulating at your core, where heat had begun to pool.  

As much as Secondo wanted to dive in, to take you as he once had so many times, he knew this was not a moment to rush. Instead, he focussed his efforts on trailing his lips down your jawline, following the curves down your neck and collarbone as his palm kneaded at your breast opposite his mouth. Slowly, he savoured the velvet smoothness of your skin on his tongue, taking your nipple into his mouth while your back arched up into him in pleasure and anticipation.  

Secondo had missed these little noises you would make. The mewls and whimpers as he brought you to the brink of desperation; he adored them. If he himself hadn’t missed you the way he did, he could spend hours working you up to release. Another time though, perhaps. If you would want another... 

The hand that kneaded at your other breast snaked its way down between the two of you where his length was resting against you at the inner junction of your leg and hip. He allowed his fingertips to brush over himself only for a moment, before he dragged his middle finger through your glistening folds and circled your clit once, twice...  

You gasped under him, hips chasing the high and in turn grinding into his hardness which earned a deep moan from him against your breast. He could feel you were ready for more, drifting his finger to your entrance and starting with just one as he pushed inside, feeling your warmth envelope his digit. His cock twitched against you at the feel, like a silent plea to be buried inside you. All you could do was hold him against you, an arm around his waist and one around the back of his head forcing him flush against your body.  

From the way you rolled your hips against his finger that slowly but surely curled over and over inside you, Secondo knew you needed more, and so alongside his middle finger, he slid his ring finger too. The way he curled them both inside you had your eyes rolling back in your head – he always was good with his hands, and just as he could then, he could read you like an open book, reciting verses of pleasure and passion from your pages. 

He began to move them inside you, readying you for him. As the seconds ticked on, his need to sheath himself inside you grew increasingly hard to ignore, his hips grinding into you from above. His lips found yours again, abandoning your breast in his frenzy to be close to you.  

He overtook your senses; all you could do was see him, hear him, smell him, feel him, taste him. You decided in an instant that was all you wanted for the rest of eternity. Just him. 

You needed more of him, all of him, and so you lifted your legs from the mattress, spreading your thighs wider in a way of presenting yourself to him to hopefully, finally, fill you with more than just his fingers. Secondo growled against your lips, his resolve crumbling. His hand slipped from inside you and instead came to grip the back of your thigh, pressing it back to give him the room to easily slide his member through your folds, effortlessly catching his tip on your entrance so that slowly, maddeningly, he could push himself into you.  

For a moment, neither of you could focus on anything other than that feeling; of filling you, of being filled. Both of your jaws went slack, moans spilling from your lips and mingling in the millimetres between you. When Secondo was fully enveloped in your heat, his forehead met yours while he gathered some form of composure. He could feel his chest tightening, the wounds of the last eight years stitching themselves back up. He let out a sob through gritted teeth, and whilst you too were completely enthralled in the overwhelm of emotions, it was all you could do to console him in that moment. 

“I-I’m here, caro. I’m right here,” you reassured him, your fingers tracing patterns across the nape of his neck. He had to take several heavy, deep breaths that puffed his cheeks up on the exhale each time before he could even bare to look you in the eye. When he did, he found nothing but love in them, your irises swimming with it.  

“Ti amo, amore mio...” he repeated, his voice cracking with emotion. You smiled at him, such softness in your features as a prickle of tears glistened in your eyes.  

“I love you too, caro.” You always had. You pulled him to you for another kiss, quickly falling under his spell once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him as his hips started to sluggishly roll against yours, dragging his length through your heat achingly slow. Both of you needed to savour that feeling, one you had missed out on for so long.  

As your tongues danced together, so too did your hips, meeting in the middle as the two of you picked up a comfortable pace, effortlessly working together to drag the groans and whimpers from the other.  

Neither of you were under any illusion that this would last particularly long, despite dragging it out to relish it at first. But the longer you stayed banded together, the harder it was not to give in to the pleasure, to that familiar heat coiling in both of your abdomens.  

Secondo squeezed the underside of your thigh as his cock twitched and kicked inside you, begging for a release he was trying too hard to stave off. Your walls fluttered around him, rippling and sending jolts of electricity through you. Your bodies worked together, keying into a frequency you had only ever been able to register together. Nothing and nobody else had ever come close to understanding either of you. It was the two of you; it was always supposed to be.  

“A-ah!” you cried against his lips, squeezing your eyes shut while your body dangled over the edge of a sensational orgasm. “S-Secondo...”  

“Ooh, say that again, amore. Let me hear you...” you asked, ready to let go at the sound of his name from your lips once more. 

With a few more thrusts you gathered the strength you needed, opening your eyes to meet his beautifully mismatched ones and holding his cheek as you moaned his name one more time for him. 

“Secondo...”   

That was it for him. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, his cock spilling inside you and his thrusts becoming erratic. You could feel him inside you, length pulsing and warmth spreading that triggered an almighty break in your body, orgasm ripping its way through you. The shouts of pleasure the two of you made together sounded like a symphony to your ears, and the both of you gripped onto each other for dear life as if this were a dream, and you might wake up at any moment.  

But neither of you disappeared; no puffs of smoke, no fading into the darkness. You stayed in each other's arms, coming down form your highs and catching your breaths while the weight of the world seemed to drift from your shoulders. That baggage you’d been carrying for years, the pain and hurt... it didn’t exist in that moment.  

You weren’t kidding yourself into thinking that everything was perfect, and you could instantly go back to playing happy families with Secondo; not at all. But that moment? That was perfect. It offered you a relief of your woes that you’d needed for so long. And now, instead of bottling up your emotions, the two of you could begin to heal. Really heal.  

It would take a lot of work, probably some shaky moments; hell, maybe even some therapy for the both of you but for the first time in eight years, you felt peace.  

Home. This was home.  

A sliver of golden sunlight shifted slowly down the wall as the sun rose outside, pouring in between the curtains that hadn’t been drawn completely closed the night before. Eventually, it hit your eyes like a blindfold, waking you with a squint and a grumble as you flipped onto your other side to avoid it.  

The white spots in your vision cleared after a few moments, and you found yourself staring at a bed that wasn’t yours. At least, not anymore. It once had been, shared with the love of your life.  

And yet, he was nowhere to be seen, the sheets on his side wrinkled and haphazardly strewn aside. You sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from your eyes and holding the deep green sheets against your bare body. Even the bathroom door was wide open, no sign of him at all.  

For a moment you almost convinced yourself last night had never happened, but even you couldn’t deny the evidence of being sat completely nude in Secondo’s bedroom. Perhaps he’d had second thoughts about what had transpired. Maybe it was too much too soon.  

It wasn’t until you looked around at the room and your tired eyes fell upon your nightstand – or at least, the nightstand that was once yours – that you relaxed, a warmth spilling through your chest and raising goosebumps on your skin.  

Your vase shined in the sunlight, newly polished and casting a green imprint on the wall behind it. Inside it, a fresh bouquet of queen of the night tulips with splashes of white jasmine offsetting the deep purple. You could smell the jasmine from where you sat, a favourite scent of yours.  

Secondo regretted nothing of last night. He, much like you, saw that as your fresh start – as fresh as the bouquet before you. He felt the same relief as you did, the same hope for some kind of future together. 

Staring at the flowers, a smile spread over your lips you couldn’t contain. Part of you knew why that vase had sat untouched and empty since your departure. Secondo bringing it back to life again the moment you came back to him was all the reassurance you needed that you were welcomed home with open arms.  

“Primo will be angry when he sees the stalks in his garden,” Secondo chuckled, breaking the silence as he leaned against the doorframe looking devilishly handsome with his skull paint fresh and crisp, his black shirt tucked into his slacks and cinched with a belt. His arms were folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. A smirk played on his face, enjoying the look of shock in your features when your head whipped around at his sudden voice. 

“You didn’t...” you scolded playfully.  

“Oh, I did amore...” he smiled, pushing off from the doorframe and coming to sit on the end of the bed in front of you. “Let him be mad. He will understand in time.” 

A comfortable silence settled over you as he lifted his hand to brush your bed hair from your cheek.  

“You were always most beautiful like this, dolcezza,” he spoke dreamily, taking you in in the morning sun, wrapped in his sheets with messed hair and a bare face. Your eyes fluttered shut, chasing the feeling of his fingertips. You let yourself enjoy the blissful silence for a moment, but one of you had to break it eventually. 

“We’ll need to work on this, Secondo. All that time... we can’t erase it in one night,” you told him, bringing your knees up to rest your arms and chin on shyly. 

“Sí, sí, quite right. It’s only a start, amore. I will prove things are different, te lo prometto (I promise).” 

“I don’t doubt you, my love,” you smiled, reaching out for his shirt collar and pulling him gently to meet your lips in a soft, gentle kiss to seal his promise.  

A promise you knew he would fight both heaven and hell to keep.  

Major thanks to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading once again! There's no tag list for this one since this is a request from two people that got out of hand... I hope, dear anons, you enjoyed this!

[kiwi-on-ice]

HEYY, love your posts on tt. So I got something really specific I'm looking for. Lately here I've been absolutely head over heels for Cassidy's look in volume 4 of the New Blood comics.

Could you write a fem!reader x Cassidy scenario where they go on vacation at a little cabin in the mountains during the winter (reader's idea), Cassidy shares the coat and a kiss with the reader when he notices they're a little tool cold and then brings them inside to "warm them up" ��� (established relationship+ tons of flirting)

Cole Cassidy x fem!reader

Summary: After pleading with Cole for a long-awaited vacation, your ill advised outfit choice means your boyfriend is tasked with warming you up.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, pretty vanilla for my usual writing lmao, no use of y/n, pussy eating, loads of petnames, also loads of ass grabbing, creampie

Notes: Hope you like it anon! Also i'm not American so typing out the word 'vacation' is kinda weird for me aha.

“Y’know, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”

Came the smooth voice of your boyfriend as you got out of the rental car, glancing around with a big grin painted on his features. The dark wood cabin you'd rented for a week looks striking against the crisp white blanket of snow resting on the woodland and mountaintops. Crunching footsteps reach your ears as he comes up to your side and wraps his arm around your waist, letting you relax into his side like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

You’d begged Cole to have a break for months; after Overwatch joined back together he’d been all around the world recruiting new agents, and you couldn’t be prouder of your lover for dedicating himself to protecting the world. However, you’d seen first hand how this workload has affected him, the dark circles under his eyes that seem to get deeper and deeper, the frown lines that seemed to be permanently etched into his face. Reminding him that he doesn’t need to handle the weight of the world alone, you’d suggested a vacation but was met by a dismissive tone. How he couldn’t just leave everyone, there was so much work to be done, what if null sector attacked again? What if the new recruits need his help?

Despite his resistance, you felt the adoration for him increase tenfold at his worrying; gone were the days of the lone gunslinger, caring about himself only. You can see now the positive change in him, although it doesn’t alter the fact he’d been overworking herself for months. So you kept bring it up, suggesting different places until one finally caught his eye. And here you are now, the crisp winter air chilling you as you cuddle up to him, your breath visible in the winter air. Cole however seems eager to look round, grabbing your hand and taking you up to the front of the cabin, his eyes peaking in to the windows.

“Look at this beauty.” He marvels, walking around the sides of the building without a care; no doubt his fur lined coat keeping him warm against the chill in the air but you unfortunately aren’t so lucky. You regret not bundling up, bundling up like he told you, now clinging your arms around yourself to preserve some heat as Cole analyses the cabin.

“Don’t suppose the lake will be good enough for fishin’, still I bet we’ll find some things to do. Maybe that railway we passed, assumin’ they’ve cleared the snow.” He speaks, unaware of you currently freezing to death behind him as he heads to the car to grab your things. Hurriedly you follow him, and just before he pops the trunk, he glances at you.

“Cold, pumpkin?” he asks teasingly with a chuckle, causing you to scoff softly and deflect.

“No, I’m fine. Just a little chilly.” You lie, your breath visible as you speak. Humming, he smirks and steps closer.

“Is that right? Well I’m cold, maybe I’ll take that flimsy jacket off ya’ if you don’t need it-“ he says, reaching for your jacket and causing you to react and slap his hand away.

“Don’t you dare.” You snap quickly, causing a throaty laugh to escape him.

“I knew it, why you refuse to listen t’me is beyond my comprehension angel, so damn stubborn.” He playfully reprimands you. He’d told you to grab a coat, but you didn’t think it would be this cold, so you blew him off. He instead looks down at you, wrapping his strong hands around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Lemme warm you up, hm?”

Despite the temperature, you feel heat rise to your cheeks at his flirtatious, before you giggle softly. “Such a flirt.” You mumble.

“For warmin’ up my girl?” he says lowly, tickling your ear with his warm breath. “You wound me, thinkin’ so lowly of me.”

You’re really giggling now, as he undoes his coat and throws it over the both of you. This causes you to huddle further into his broad chest, feeling the heat of his body as he presses you against himself. You sigh happily, your cheek smushed against his chest and your mind clearing. Feeling his fingertips stroke up the expanse of your back makes you happy you both have taken the time to rest here.

His hands wander down to your lower back, before grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you impossibly close, causing you to let out a squeak.

“Cole!” you say with a huff, to which he smirks into your hairline.

“What? Can you blame me? Those jeans should be criminal sugar.”

He punctuates his words with another squeeze of your ass, kneading the flesh and causing you to squirm against him. You slap his arm lightly, pretending to be annoyed but he can see right through you. He chuckles at your antics, feeling you up gently and humming in satisfaction at the way your body feels against his touch. Often he wonders what he did to be lucky enough to get a girl like you, so caring and kind to him...but also goddamn just his type. The way your ass feels in his rough hands, the way your voice sounds as you gasp or tease him, you're just perfect for the gunslinger. He hums as if in thought, before leaning in to your ear.

“Y’know…if you’re still cold, I could always help warm you up.” He whispers, letting the insinuation run up your spine like electricity. Your cheeks warm as you nod slowly, causing him to pick you up with a grunt. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” you say with another huff, holding on to him as he takes you inside. You giggle at the way you both look, with him carrying you bridal style into the cabin; almost like newlyweds. You both look around inside, the cabin beautifully rustic in its interior decor. The living area is open plan, with a large comfortable looking sofa facing a baroque fireplace. Kicking his boots off, he feels the fur rug under his feet as he makes his way to the sofa, plopping you down onto it and grinning down at you.

“Why don’t I light the fireplace, then we can really warm up.” He states as moves to mess with the fireplace, figuring out how to light it. Deciding to be a tease, you quickly take your top off, removing your bra and throwing them both on the floor unceremoniously. You debate taking your jeans off, but decide to keep them on after Cole's earlier teasing words, lounging back on the comfy fabric as your boyfriend curses under his breath at the task.

“Damn you, stupid th-“ he stops when the fireplace is lit, grinning in satisfaction. “There we are sugar, nice and warm.”

He turns, and his eyes widen as he takes in your current form. You swear you hear his breathing pattern change as he takes in the sudden sight. Cheeks flushed, he stares for a moment, just drinking in the image of you.

“Goddamn sweetness, look at you.” He praises, the grin still on his face as well as the flushed colour. “Such a little tease hm?”

Rising from his knees, he walks over to you leisurely. His gaze doesn’t even hide that it’s firmly set on your tits, before he leans over you.

“Like what you see?” You tease up at him.

“You know I do.” He murmurs, gently tracing down your neck. “Mighty fine sight you are.”

You go to sit up, before he pushes you back down softly and straddles you. His callous fingers trace over your waist, moving up and groping your tits.

“Thought you were cold.” He challenges, as you arch your back up to his touch.

“I am…you’re helping.” You can’t help but say, gasping softly as he pinches your nipples gently.

“That right? Guess I’ll continue.”

He massages your tits firmly, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. Relaxing against him, you let him take control of the kiss as his tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“Don’t want my girl freezin' on the vacation she pestered me for.” He whispers against your lips, punctuating his words with another squeeze of your tender nipples. Your hips buck instinctively at his attention, causing his hips to pin you down on the sofa. Lips trail from your mouth to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in their wake before he starts to bite gently, giving you a hickey.

“So sweet…” he mumbles, admiring the mark he left. It always give him a rush, marking you. Seeing the way your skin bares a reminder of the love and desire he holds for you. He kisses down to your collarbones, then downwards further before reaching your chest. With a grin he licks at your nipple and blows cool air on it, reveling as you squirm.

“Cole…” you whine, causing him to chuckle and shush you. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. Lavishing your breast with his attention, he then moves to give the other one the same treatment, sucking softly before gently nibbling to cause that delightful gasp from you.

Your fingers thread into his hair, tugging a little as he kisses down your navel to the hem of your jeans. Licking the skin just above the denim, he shifts upwards with a soft grunt before unbuttoning your jeans.

"You sure you want these off?" He asks with a cocky grin on his face, "Don't want you catchin' more of a chill."

You nod, pushing your hips up to allow him to slip the clothing down your legs. "Need you.."

He laughs a little, callous fingertips contrasting with the smooth skin of your thighs. "My girl's always needy f'me."

Using his metal hand to rip your underwear, he takes a moment to appreciate your naked form in all its glory. You can't help but notice lately he's been...for lack of a better word admiring you more and more. The look in his eyes is something new, a new sort of excitement and contentment that never fails to steal the breath from your lungs.

Small kisses work their way up your legs, before he's eye level with your dripping cunt, beard scratching lightly at your inner thighs. "Can I?"

With your permission, he lets out a soft groan before licking a stripe up your pussy. He laps at you gently at first, savouring the taste as you gently run your gingers through his brown locks. Moving his tongue in rhythmic motions, trying to draw out every last breath and moan from your parted lips. He flicks his tongue against your clit, grinning at the higher pitched noise that escaped as he digs his fingers into your thighs. But the need for you takes over, so he dives in to his meal.

"Always taste so good...all mine." he mutters against your heat, almost like he's saying it to himself as he makes out with your cunt happily. Eyes closed, hair a mess, your thighs lightly squeezing his head; Cole Cassidy is sure he's in heaven.

As you start to rock your hips into his mouth, he lets you, laying his tongue flat and letting you take your pleasure from him. His hands gently squeeze your thighs, moaning softly at your juices on his tongue. He starts to move his head, shaking it from side to side slightly to ensure he tastes every inch. The grip you have in his hair gets tighter, the pleasure causing your thighs to start to shake.

As you look down, you notice your boyfriend's hips rocking into the soft fabric of the sofa. Cole's desperation was intense, the sweet taste of your cunt never failing to get him hard and almost leaking in his briefs as he tongue-fucks you to his hearts content. Small grunts surge from his lips, travelling through your pussy and causing you to get closer and closer to the edge.

"Nearly there..." you warn him, and you're met with a soft growl as he double down on his efforts. His tongue dances along your folds before focusing on your clit, flicking and sucking. With that final push, you cum loudly like you know he loves, as he determinedly licks up all that you give him. He pulls away a little, his beard drenched with your juices as he catches his breath.

As he glances at you, sweaty and breathing heavily, his eyes are drawn to the way your nipples have hardened. "Oh look at that darlin', you still cold? Well we can't have that..."

With surprising strength he yanks you in his arms and settles you on the fur rug in front of the fireplace on your hands and knees. Immediately you sink slightly into position, arching your back a little as he hurriedly undoes his belt.

"So good for me ain't ya? Such a sweet girl...my sweet girl." he almost rambles as he rids himself of his clothing, before pressing against you so you can feel his excitement on the back of your thigh. Gently peppering kisses to the back of your neck, he smiles against your skin as you make a content sound. "Gonna fuck ya till you're nice and warm."

With that declaration, he slowly pushes inside with a grunt. "God you're always so tight..." he gets out with a stunted breath, his hands immediately gripping your hips to keep you still. He savours the sweet sensation, before slowly pumping his hips.

The slow movements mixed with the crackling of the fire make for a divine experience, your eyes fluttering closed as you allow yourself to be present in the moment. Sighing, you feel his fingers draw small circles on the meat of your hips and love handles.

"So fuckin' good...can I go faster baby?" he asks, which results in a resounding yes from you. With your permission he starts to thrust faster, groaning at the feeling of your cunt taking him in so willingly. You keen as your back arches, never getting tired of your boyfriend railing you.

He can never resist in this position grabbing a handful of your ass, squeezing as he pulls you back into his thrusts. Moaning, he brings his hand up to give you a firm spank, causing you to jump and whine.

"H-hey..." you fake complain, although Cole didn't miss the soft whine of pleasure that escaped you.

"Awe, did that hurt pumpkin?" he coos in a teasing tone. He ends his sentence with a rough thrust, causing your breath to catch as he smirks. "Oops, guess that hurt too. And this."

He reaches round and grabs at your tits, his chest against your back almost as he pummels your g spot with shallow thrusts. Watching your reactions, he can't help but feel a rush at every noise that spills from your throat. The way your ass ripples with every snap of his hips has his dick throbbing inside of you, but after a while, he pulls out and grunts, smacking your ass.

"On the sofa again, I ain't a spring chicken no more you know? M'knees can't take it." he chuckles softly, as you giggle at his slight self-deprecation. He helps you up, before guiding you back to the sofa. Laying down, he gets comfortable as you get on top and sink yourself back on his cock. "Yeah sugar...you know this is my favourite."

"Because you don't have to do any work?" you tease with a giggle, causing him to huff and thrust upwards.

"No, ain't nothing wrong with wantin' to see my goddess of a girl bouncin' on me." he defends himself with a lazy grin, his hands stroking your thighs as you move yourself up and down. You can't help but giggle at his praise as you look down at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every movement you make.

Gripping his shoulders for support, you lift yourself and slam back down over and over, watching as his eyes almost glaze over in hazy satisfaction. He feels his cowboy hat slip, and with another smirk grabs it and puts it on top of your head.

"That's it baby, you my cowgirl huh? Gonna ride me?" he teases, although his pupils blow wide as he sees how stunning you look completely naked with his hat. You nod, using one hand to stabilise yourself while the other keeps the hat firmly on your head as you ride him. In that moment, Cole wishes he could take a picture and look at it every single time he's apart from you; truly you're a goddess in his eyes.

With his hips twitching, he can't help but thrust up into you, gripping your hips like you were gonna disappear if he let go. With a whimper, you feel your second orgasm of the evening build up inside you as you move.

"Cole..." you begin, but he knows your body like he knows his way around a revolver.

"I know sugar I know, gonna cum for me ain't ya?" he encourages, his hips really moving up into you now as he watches your face contort with pleasure. One hand slipping down to play with your clit, you move desperately, chasing your orgasm.

"That's it, take what you need." your boyfriend grunts out, and you do, using his cock to get yourself to the edge. You cum with a cry of his name, causing the breath to be almost punched out of his lungs at how beautiful you look. He starts to pound up into your cunt, groaning.

"Yeah that's it, just a little longer angel. Just a bit more...gonna make me...fuck...cum inside that pretty pussy."

You let him use you, and it isn't long before he makes good on his word and fills you up, moaning deeply in satisfaction. You collapse on his chest as he holds you close, running his hands up and down your sides as your breathing syncs up with each-other. He grips your hips to lift you off his cock, and you whine as the cool air hits your cunt as his release spills slowly out of you, most likely making a mess of both your boyfriend and the sofa. A bit of you almost pities the next people who stay here, knowing they'll have to sit on a sofa with Cole's cum stains on it, but your pleasure outweighs the potential guilt. After a few minutes of bliss, Cole pipes up.

"So...you suitably warmed up?" he grins, and it widens when he hears your soft laugh.

"Yeah i'm warm...maybe a little too warm."

"You're just never happy, are you?" he laments sarcastically, chucking as you lightly slap him on the arm. You snuggle into him, feeling him hold you close and tight. "M'happy you suggested this baby, gonna be a relaxin' few days here with you."

Smiling happily, you nod softly. This is all you wanted, for him to rest like he deserves. "Yeah...a nice break."

"A nice break." he repeats, before kissing you on the temple. "Just don't go out with that flimsy jacket on, y'hear me? Unless you just want me to drag your pretty ass back inside and fuck you till you're all nice and warm again."

[desi2go]

Sick days

pairing: sick!Hyunjin x reader

Warnings: fluf

Summary: You imagined your day off differently. But taking care of your sick boyfriend was even better.

Being with Hyunjin was like a soft breeze that played with your hair and kept the busy thoughts away from you. It was like a sunset at the beach. The bright colours were exciting but calming. Every day was a new adventure, a new story.

As a nurse, you dealt with a busy and hectic schedule and Hyunjin was always there after a long 12 hours shift to bring you comfort. Like a breeze his fingers brushed through your hair as you hid your face in his neck, trying to get the annoying smell of disinfection out of your nose.

He was your safe space. Whenever you felt down or self-conscious, he grounded you and build you up. As an idol, he always worked ambitiously to perform the best for his beloved STAY. Even though he was exhausted, he makes sure that you are okay and looked after you at the end of the day.

He texted you, that today's practice would run late and you shouldn't wait for him. You just came home from your long shift and it was already 11 pm. You hoped that he wouldn't overwork himself and come home quickly. You quickly changed out of your work clothes and jumped under the shower. Then, you cleaned the dishes from the morning due to the missing time because nearly overslept. Luckily, you had managed to get to work in time but without a breakfast.

You figured that your boyfriend would be starving when he will get home, so you ordered takeout.

You yawned and cuddled further into the couch with a blanket draped over your lap as you watched your favourite TV show again. Well, you loved to watch it with him.

Hyunjin came home in the middle of the night. The clock in the hallway said that it was long after midnight and he felt terrible. Today's practice was a pain. It seemed like everything he did was slow and forced. There wasn't the usual easy flow, the balance and the melody didn't took over his body. It didn't guide him and that was frustrating, especially since the comeback season starts soon. He must give everything and more for his friends and STAY.

After he slipped out of his shoes, he walked into the living room just to see you on the couch. Your hair that was once in a neat ponytail was now all over your face and your head leaned against his pillow that you must have stolen from the bed. He chuckled quietly and quickly showered. Then, he kneeled in front of you and brushed some hair strands out of the way. Your nose scrunched and you stirred awake.

"Hello my love. Were you waiting for me" he whispered as your sleep driven eyes blinked at him and a small smile danced over your pretty lips.

"Yeah, I ordered takeout for you" you answered and rose from your snuggly place to stretch out your sore muscles. As much as you loved that couch, that you two bought together after moving in, the bed was way more comfortable. He pecked your forehead and went to heat up the food.

You followed him and cuddled into his side as he ate his food. You were sleepy and just enjoyed the warmth of your personal human heater. From time to time he cleared his throat.

"You ok?" You asked as he did it again. "Yeah, just drank less water while practicing"

You grapped him a bottle of water and a glass. You can imagine that sport made your throat pretty dry especially when you dance for hours.

...

The next morning you woke up in an empty bed. Jinnie was already up and probably at the company. It was your day off and on those days even though you were an early riser, you sometimes enjoyed sleeping long. As a nurse, a good sleep was rare.

With a good mood you danced through the apartment and cleaned it. You checked Jinnies schedule that he had sent you in the past so that you always know where he is and can easily visit him.

Maybe you can watch him practice with his group later in the afternoon since it was a rare occasion due to work. He always loved when you support him. It only makes him more ambitious and hyped he had told you. And the other boys adored you. Especially Felix, Hyunjin's best friend or soulmate like they often state, was fascinated by you. Maybe that's because you lived until you were ten in Australia and then moved with your family to Korea.

He was also the first member Jinnie introduced you to. As his best friend, he knew from your relationship from the beginning and when he finally met you, he was even more convinced that you were the perfect match for Hyunjin.

But also Seungmin was like a brother to you. From the first moment you met the younger boy, you liked him with his cheeky attitude and the sweet toothy smile.

You figured that you should buy the whole group something to drink when you went to the studio. On the way, you stopped at a café and ordered drinks. You just sat in your car once again with the drinks on the passenger seat, when Felix called you.

"What's up, Lix?" You asked and started the car. "Are you coming to today's practice?"

"Yeah, on my way right now. Why?"

"I think Hyunjin is sick. He is totally pale and already vomited"

"I'm coming. I'll be there in 10" you answered concerned. You knew Jinnie. Whenever he is sick, he wants to keep going. He just works him to death because he won't admit that he was ill and needs to rest.

Balancing the nine cups in both hands, you managed to go through the security that already knew you and bid you politely hello and and took the elevator to the floor where the studio was. You already knew the way there after walking it hundreds of times.

In the hallway, you could already hear the music and the squeaking of the shoes. With a foot, you pushed the door open and yelled a greeting over the loud music.

Seeing the drinks in your hands, they quickly scrambled to you in no time and helped you. You spread them and you all sat down. Happily, they drank like they lived in a desert with no water at all.

They all were already sweaty and chatted.

Jinnie kneeled beside you with his americano in one hand as he layed his head against your shoulder.

"Hey baby. Is everything ... was that a shudder?"

You asked him. His clothes were wet with sweat but occasionally he shuddered like he was cold.

Concerned, you placed your drink beside you and touched his forehead to feel how warm he was. And he was warm, it felt like his skin was burning under your touch. A shudder jolted through him again.

"Are you feeling bad? Can it be that your sick Jinnie?" You asked and brushed a stray hair strand back out of his face. Your eyes danced over his pretty face. He was indeed pale.

He just shook his head and murmured that he will go to the bathroom quick. The first steps were staggering but then he felt suddenly nauseous and covered his mouth and paced through the room to get to a washroom. You had observed that and jumped up to follow him.

You found him in the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet, vomiting. He gagged and emptied the contents of his belly. You sat next to him and rubbed his back while his body tensed up with each gag. You brushed soothingly through his wet hair.

Drained out, he leaned against the bowl, taking shaky breaths.

"It's okay, baby." You cooed.

You helped him up after some time and he got rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth through rinsing it out. Some tears ran down his cheeks as he breathed heavily.

"Everything alright?" Chan asked as you two walked back into the room.

"You look like shit" Seungmin stated and continued sipping on his drink. "I'm okay" he answered with a hoarse voice. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"Definitely, you didn't just puked your guts out" you said ironically.

"I told you he was ill!" Felix shouted and rubbed your boyfriends shoulder.

"You should rest. You can't dance when you're ill" Chan told him.

"Come, let's go home and rest" You exclaimed and circled his waist with one arm.

Only after the whole group literally forced him to go home, he followed you quietly to your car. You opened the door for him and went to the driver seat to take your poor boyfriend home.

The whole drive was completely quiet as Jinnie rested his head against the window and tried not to get nauseous. He felt bad for leaving practice. With the new comeback, he didn't want to disappoint his fans, his friends and you. Especially not you. You were the most important person to him and you should be proud of him so when someone asks you about him, you should be proud to say that he was your love. That was all he wants.

As you parked the car, you turned to your boyfriend. He was still pale but the nausea seemed to fade. His eyes were closed and even though he looked exhausted, he was like an angel. So beautiful. Though with his newly red dyed hair he looked more like a devil. Just the sweet horns and the tail were missing.

You rounded the car and opened his door. His eyes fluttered open and you smiled. Like a puppy, he followed you to your apartment while you carried his bag.

Unlocking the door, you let him in and took your shoes off. You leaned his bag against the wall.

"Wanna take a shower first?" You questioned because he was still sweaty due to practise and he shouldn't catch an even worse cold. He nodded and went through the hallway to the bedroom to get some comfy new clothes. Meanwhile, you let some water in the bathtub and searched for the bath oil that helps with colds. Immediately, the bath was filled with the smell of eucalyptus and sage.

You gave your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll cook you something light. If anything happens just say something and I'll come" Patting his hair, you leaved the room and started looking through your refrigerator and the kitchen cabinets to see if you had all the ingredients.

Fortunately, you got everything for a chicken soup. You brew a chicken broth with the meat and in the meantime you chopped leek, carrots and celery. Then, you added them to the pan and brought the noodles to boil.

The soup was nearly finished as Hyunjin returned. He circled your waist with his arms and layed his head on his shoulder.

"What's up, baby? Feeling better?" You asked and stirred the soup another time. "Yeah, a bit. Smells great, honey"

"Thank you" He let you go as you turned around to face him. Gently, you touched his forehead to check if he got a fever. And he was indeed burning up. From a cabinet, you took a thermometer and measured his temperature.

"You have a fever, baby" you stated and send him to bed so that he could rest.

Soon, you filled a bowl with soup for him and brought it him along with some medicine against the cold.

He sat up and slowly ate the food. You hoped that he could keep it in his stomach and he didn't need to vomit from it. And he definitely shouldn't take the medication without some food in his belly.

When he was finished, he took the medicine.

"Thanks, honey" he said and gave you a tired smile.

"Wanna watch our series?" You asked and quickly brought the empty dish in the kitchen. You will clean them later, now you wanted to spend time with your love.

He agreed and you took your laptop with you. You jumped beside him under the warm comforter and placed the laptop next to you. You started your current kdrama and cuddled further into the cushion.

Some time passed and Jinnie still held some distance to you. Usually, he would be all over you by now. Slightly, you turned your head and observed your boyfriend. His entire body was under the comforter with only his head out and concentrated on the screen.

"Everything alright?" You asked and he turned his attention to you.

"Yeah, just a bit cold"

You lifted your arm and signalled him to come to you so that you could function as his personal heater.

He shook his head and murmured. "Don't wanna infect you"

You heart swelled at how he still looked out for you. A loving smile danced over your lips.

"Come honey, can't let you freeze. I'll heat you up" Finally, he came closer and layed his head on your chest while his hands caressed your hips.

You touched his forehead to check if his fever was still high. But the medicine seemed to finally kick in. Then, you let your hands travel to his red dyed hair and combed through the silky strands.

He sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the physical contact.

"I'm sorry" he mentioned after some time. "What?"

"I'm sorry for ruining your day off. You already have enough patients to care for"

"No! You didn't ruin anything!" You held his head in your hands and caressed his cheeks.

"I love to take care of you. In fact, I love to pamper you"

"I love you" he answered and let his hands run up your sides.

"I love you too" you told him and placed a loving peck on his forehead.

[yandereunsolved]

𖹭 𓆝 𓆟 Poly Yandere Sage & Sidon 𓆞 𓆝 𖹭

Born of the Hylian race and always drawn to the water. It made you the perfect candidate to be the Hylian ambassador who worked with the Zora. You worked with them when Divine Beast Vah Ruta was pouring rain and flooding the domain. Now you work with Yona to take care of the Zora's due to the massive amounts of sludge suffocating the land and creatures.

You were one of the three Hylians that the Zora allowed to freely walk among them without special permission for each entry. You wished in these moments that it was more than three. Zelda was lost only the goddesses know where. Sage had lost his arm and now seemed to further distance himself from you. You, oh you, the Zora loved Yona but saw you as a stain upon them.

You weren't one of their own, a reincarnation of a goddess, or the hero fated to save Hyrule. You were simply a hylian that was appointed to their waters.

It kept you stuck, doing your best to find as many splash fruits as possible. You'd overwork yourself from dusk till dawn just to find some. You had to find them; it was the only way to gain even a smidgen of their approval. You even went into Lynel territory for them.

Prince Sidon wasn't the least bit pleased when he learned about your being so reckless. You were confined to your room and were only visited by guards and the prince. You recovered your physical health, but not your mental. You became addicted to his presence. He'd always give you the same comforting smile and soothing touch.

Sage was the same way when he finally made his way to you both. It was the first time you were able to leave your room in a handful of months. You practically collapsed into his arms. You didn't notice his stunned silence or the firey blush lighting up his hardened features, but Sidon did.

"Good friend, it's such a shame that Zelda is missing. However, it is good to see that you are no worse for wear. Except for that arm of yours—?" Sidon spoke in an elated tone, an undercurrent of a pleased growl bubbling up from his throat.

Sage did not answer after he explained his predicament. He stuck by the both of you like the sludge that coated Zora's Domain. He mostly communicated through Hylian sign. His Zonai arm, as you learned, was perfect for translating it into an audio version of what he was signing. It would occasionally glitch around the both of you, glowing bright and moving on its own to grasp either you or Sidon.

"My friend!" Sidon gasped as Link's Zonai arm caressed Sidon's midsection.

It was a common occurrence, and it was oddly cute.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

Both of them were needed to save the domain, and you once again were shut out from the outside world. You didn't learn until after Sage and Sidon had defeated the beast within the Water Temple that Yona had been slain by the Sludge Like Like that had attacked near Mipha's statue.

The only oddity of it all is that Yona had the distinct slash of a Zora Longsword across her throat.

You were the only one that seemingly picked up on this detail. This was because Sidon wouldn't allow anyone to look at her dead body except for you or Sage. It was a question that still lingers in your mind, but you don't dare ask it. Sage didn't see anything wrong with it, and he is the hero. 

It was one shock after another.

You were wed to Sidon in the place of Yona, and Link was married to both of you. You had no time to protest. It was seemingly a decision that was controversial among the Zora. However, anyone who voiced their displeasure soon had their gills cut. It wasn't as if you were against it. Both were truly handsome. 

You worried about the differences between Zora and Hylian anatomy.

Both didn't seem to have a care in the world about the finer details. You lay in bed with both your husbands. You are all saddened to know that Link must go to continue his journey of defeating the Demon King. At least he has Sidon's avatar. Sidon is able to feel, see, and hear everything through it.

Only one phrase was left to be said.

"I love you both." You murmur through your sleepy daze.

Both of their hearts almost stopped. They stared at each other in surprise. The same thing was on both their minds.

You love them. They won you.

[finemealcreates]

Hell of a Meeting, Huh?

July 20: Attending a funeral | aid

Danny wishes it was raining. He wishes the weather was foul, that there was an overcast, something to reflect the way he was feeling inside. 

But it wasn’t. It was a nice day out. Not too cloudy, not too cold, just right. 

An awful day for such nice weather. 

Vlad has been trying to get close to Danny the entire funeral, but he’s been dodging the other man. Danny had very publicly stated that he didn’t want anything to do with Vlad, and he wasn’t his dad. That Vlad was barely his family’s friends, and he’d die before he had anything to do with the man. 

It had mostly forced Vlad to keep his distance. This was the man’s chance to casually get close to Danny and make it seem like an accident. 

Except for the fact that Danny was overly aware of Vlad’s closeness to him. He kept moving, except when neither of them could, further and further away from the other man. No one cared, they knew it was a day of mourning for the boy. He had lost everything. 

Sam, Tucker, Jazz, his parents. All of them, gone. 

What is Danny going to do, now? They’re not going to force him to live with Vlad, will they? He saw what happens when he lives with Vlad, it doesn’t go well for anyone. 

No, he’d die before he lived with Vlad. He won’t allow that future to exist. 

The social worker had allowed Danny to stay with the Foley’s, too overworked to fight Danny when he sobbed when removed from them. The Foley’s hadn’t minded, as far as Danny could tell. They clung to him as tightly as he clung to them. 

All of them had lost someone. Even the Manson’s had been kind to Danny. Well, Bubba was always kind to Danny, but Sam’s parents hadn’t always been. Yet, earlier that day they had hugged Danny. Cried with him. Thanked Danny for being such a great friend to their Sammy. 

Grief will do a lot to a person, even lead you to hug a kid you used to hate apparently. 

Maybe the Foley’s would be willing to take Danny in? It’s not what Danny wants, he doesn’t think he can stomach moving into his best friend’s old room, but anything is better than Vlad. Perhaps he can argue with a judge to be placed with someone not Vlad. He’s fourteen, they might listen to him, right? 

Who is he kidding, Vlad’s got more resources than Danny does. If Vlad has to, he’ll overshadow the judge to get what he wants. 

Oh no, what is Danny going to do? 

A person gently taps Danny on the shoulder, causing him to turn. 

There stands a blonde-haired man with cool blue eyes. He looks tired, and he’s got a … weird sort of energy about him. Not bad, just … different. 

Danny raises an eyebrow, too tired to speak to a stranger offering condolences. 

He’s tired of people apologizing to him. As if they understand. No one understands. Not even the Foley’s or the Manson’s. They lost their children, Danny lost everyone. 

“You’re Danny Fenton, correct?” the man asks, offering a hesitant smile he probably intends to be inviting. 

“Obviously,” Danny snarks, glaring at the man. 

“Sorry,” the stranger says, scratching the back of his head. “I just uhh … I didn’t want to do this here but the state insisted.” 

Danny narrows his eyes at the man. What is he prattling on about? 

“I got a call late last night, and didn’t hear the voice message until this morning. I’m Barry Allen, you’re dad’s second cousin?” 

Danny feels his eyes water at the mention of his dad. 

“I’ve never heard of you before,” Danny states suspiciously. 

“Sorry about that,” Barry apologizes sincerely. “Our grandparents didn’t get along, so we weren’t really close. I’m surprised I was even in the will at all—”

“You’re in my parents' will?” Danny interrupts, surprised. 

Barry laughs slightly, offering a small smile. 

“I’m just as shocked as you are, trust me,” Barry says. 

“So that makes us, what, third cousins?” Danny questions. 

Barry scratches his head, humming as he appears to contemplate it. 

“I think we’re technically second cousins once removed?” the man says distantly. “Anyway, the point is I’m your new guardian.” 

“Guardian, huh?” Danny questions, eyes moving to Vlad who has gotten a lot closer than he would’ve liked. “Anyone’s better than Vlad Masters.” 

Barry’s face scrunches. 

“Vlad Masters? The Wisconsin billionaire?” Barry questions. 

“Yeah,” Danny answers, making sure to keep conscious of Vlad moving closer to them. “He is … was obsessed with my mom. A friend my parents went to college with. He’s really creepy, been trying to adopt me since I met him months ago.” 

Barry’s face twists in disgust. 

“Don’t worry, Danny, I’m not gonna let that man do anything to you. I’ve already filled out all the paperwork,” Barry assures. 

“But he has more resources than you do, surely,” Danny replies. 

He’s not trying to be insulting, just realistic. Vlad will fight it. He’ll insist he should be Danny’s guardian. He’ll throw money around if he has to, and use overshadowing to get what he wants when money doesn’t work. 

“Well, he’s not the only one with friends in high places,” Barry assures, giving Danny a sharp grin. 

Danny’s not sure he can allow himself to hope for the best, not when he’s seen the future. Not when he’s seen what Vlad has done to get what he wants, before. But he musters up part of a smile for Barry.

“I hope you win, cousin Barry,” Danny says, just as Vlad approaches. 

“Daniel! So sorry, didn’t see you there,” Vlad says, putting on a show for folks around him. 

Barry moves and places himself partly between the two of them, back to Danny. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Barry Allen,” Barry introduces, stopping Vlad from talking to Danny. 

Vlad eyes the other man, glaring slightly at being interrupted. 

Yet, Vlad is aware that eyes are on them. Vlad had made it so. Therefore, he’s unable to refuse shaking the other man’s hand and offering a smile. 

“Vlad Masters.” 

Barry hums, dropping the other man’s hand. 

“I don’t think Maddie ever mentioned you before,” Barry comments, purposefully. 

Vlad glares, eyes tinged red for a second. Danny just feels a wave of grief hit him at the mention of his mother. 

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with the deceased,” Vlad says shortly. 

“Well of course I am,” Barry replies smoothly. “We’re family, after all.” 

Vlad’s eyes find Danny’s, narrowing slightly. 

“Oh?” Vlad’s voice is sharp, dangerous. “How so?” 

Danny can’t help but hide more behind Barry. He’s not afraid of Vlad, but he doesn’t like the look in the man’s eyes. He doesn’t like what that look means. He doesn’t like looking into Vlad’s eyes and seeing Dan. 

“Cousins,” Barry answers, keeping it short and to the point. “Was just talking to Danny about what we need to do to get him moved to my place.” 

“Daniel’s moving in with you?” Vlad seems to grit out. “How interesting, I think you may be mistaken. You see—” 

“Nope!” Barry interrupts. “Got the paperwork all figured out this morning. It’s already a done deal.” 

Danny can practically feel Vlad’s glare on him through Barry. 

“Interesting,” Vlad says. “Very interesting. Well it was nice to meet you Barry, talk to you later Daniel. Sorry for your loss.” 

Then Vlad is gone, and Danny feels himself relax. 

“You weren’t kidding, kid. That dude gives me the hibbie-jibbies,” Barry comments, turning towards Danny. 

 “He’s going to fight it, somehow. Then I’m going to be forced to live with him,” Danny states plainly. 

Barry’s eyes soften as he squats to be more eye level with Danny, resting a hand on his shoulders. 

“Let me worry about all the legal stuff, you just focus on mourning, okay?” 

Danny nods, eyes filling with tears. 

Barry pulls Danny in for a hug, and Danny can almost let himself believe that everything’s gonna turn out okay.

[guccixstyless]

Secrets

Pairing: Ryu Shi-Oh x Reader

Word Count: 1058 words

A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus, currently I'm obsessed with Ryu Shi-Oh, well Byeon Woo-Seok in general, so here's a lil one shot of his character. Also its been a minute, so I apologize if the writing seems rushed.

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

The loud sound of alarm wakes up Y/N, she groans waking up and turns off the alarm before turning beside her to see Shio sleeping peacefully. Oh how she loves seeing him asleep, he looks like a baby. She wishes she could protect him from all the stress he faces in his office, she knows how pure his heart was and how genuine his love was for her. She starts to wake him up gently by peppering light kisses all over Shio's face.

"Mhm... babe let me sleep," Shio mumbled sleepily.

"Wake up sunshine, you will be late for the office," she replied.

Reluctantly he opens his eyes and once he adjusts his eyes to sunlight he smiles at his lover. His dimples on display.

"Good morning," he smiles fondly at her.

"Good morning, lets have breakfast together," she suggests.

He looks at his phone that was on the bedside table and complains about how he is running late, "but we will have a dinner date tonight," he takes her hands and kisses sheepishly.

"Okay fine," she sighs, "but baby I'm worried about your health."

"I'm fine, I promise," he replies before going to shower.

She went downstairs and goes to the kitchen and makes herself a cup of coffee. She hears footsteps Shio's hurried footsteps after a while, while she was making a toast.

A smile tugged in her face as she felt Shio's arm snake around her waist. She turned around and felt his lips on her, a gentle yet passionate kiss was shared.

"I'm leaving, see you tonight darling," Shio smiled.

"Can't wait, I love you," she smiled.

"I love you more," he smiled and kissed her quickly before rushing towards the door.

-

Shio felt anger bubbling when he learned that one of the jackets were missing. His day was going awful and all he did since morning was yell at everyone. Everything is frustrating and he was on the verge of breaking down.

He also had to attend meetings and was trying to figure out what to do with the missing jacket situation. He will be working late by the looks of it, he sighed and continued working stressfully, completely forgetting to inform Y/N about rescheduling the dinner date.

-

Y/N kept waiting for Shio to call, she got all dolled up and since he was taking her out and didn't say where yet so she waited till Shio could pick her up.

Shio was supposed to be home by 7pm, it was nearing 9pm, she got worried and tried to call Shio multiple times but every call went straight to voicemail. At this point she wasn't even worried about missing date, she was extremely concerned about his whereabouts. She called Shio's manager and got to know Shio was staying late because of an urgent matter.

She understood his situation and felt bad for him. Her poor baby love was so stressed, she decided she wanted to go surprise him at the office by bringing him some food as well. She knows how much he overworks and how he tends to forget to eat when stressed.

She called an Uber and made a stop at his favorite chinese takeout place and got his favorite items, then she proceeded to go to his office. She checked the time, it was 10pm by the time she reached Doogo headquarters.

She was greeted by his assistant, the office was empty and dimly lit, and only his bodyguards and assistant were there. She went inside his office room, as soon as she entered she felt chills run down on her spine. Shio looked different, he looked paler than usual and as she got closer, she could see his veins- long and darker- she made eye contact with him. He had this fierce look and she saw his hands were in a fist.

"Don't come closer," he said lowly, the voice itself was something she never heard before.

He went outside taking long steps. She was horrified, she never saw him in this demeanor. She started to think what was happening, she couldn't figure out what made him act like this, and what was with those veins?

He came back after half an hour, while she was lost in her thoughts. She snapped back into reality and observed his movements, he quickly went to his office table and drank a blue liquid, he then turned his back away from her and it looked like he took a deep breathe before turning towards her.

She was seated in one of the sofas placed in the middle of the room, he quickly came towards her and knelt before her, she slightly flinched. Shio felt hurt... was she scared of him?

"What are you doing here, love?" Shio asked softly, "how did you get here?"

"I-i took an Uber, brought food for you," she replied.

"Uber?! Don't you know how dangerous it is to travel late at night?" he slightly raised his voice, he was always so overprotective of her.

She closed her eyes, slightly scared, considering his early behavior.

"Hey, hey, look at me, what's wrong babe?" he asked.

"Nothing, I'm sorry I came, I'll just go," she said starting to get up.

"Wait no," he stopped her from getting up.

"Why are you acting like this?" he gulped.

At this statement she got angry, she shoved him away before saying, "are you just gonna pretend now that you didn't act weirdly when I entered? What was that? Where did you go for 30 minutes and why was your veins popping?"

Shio sighed before trying to take her hands, "baby calm down, I can explain."

"You better explain," she huffed.

"Please can I explain later? I'm just too tired now, it was a long day," Shio begged.

"What are you hiding, Shio?"

"Please trust me, its better if you not know."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't want to lose you, I cannot lose you," he sobbed.

"Shio, you're scaring me, what's going on?" she argued.

"Please just let it slide, I will tell you when I'm ready," he cried.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?"

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO LEAVE ME, OKAY? THEY ALL DO, IF I TELL YOU YOU WILL JUST LEAVE!" He snapped.

"Wh-what?"

"I'm involved in mafia...."

PART TWO

Link to another fluff Ryu Shio Story

First love fic

[elizabethemerald]

Girl's Knight

It was supposed to be girl’s night. Tim was on Comms so Barbara could be here, and the rest of the Bats had all but forced them to take the night off, each of them promising that they would handle the crime of the city so the girls could relax for one night. The plan had been a movie at the theater, dining out in their fanciest dresses that were usually only used for stuffy galas, then returning to the clocktower for drinks and makeovers. Not to mention looking through Babara’s cache of black mail videos of all the fails of the boys. 

Of course, they still lived in Gotham. When did anything go to plan in Gotham? 

The theater had been attacked by Dr. Freeze. He basically turned the whole building into a snowglobe. Since no one was inside it, Batman was just going to leave the building to thaw normally. So they should be able to enjoy movies there again sometime in April. The fancy restaurant turned out to be a front for a mob family and while they knew that, Jim Gordon had jumped the gun on cracking down and shut the place down. Babs was going to give her dad an annoyed call tomorrow about that one. 

So now the trio of Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie were at Batburger in their gala finest. The night could still be saved if they could just get back to the clock tower. Then Condiment King strutted into the Batburger. All three of them sighed and Cass and Steph started silently arguing back and forth on who would slip out to deal with him. No matter who stayed and who left, there were even odds of all of them getting covered in something foul smelling. 

However all three of them were surprised when a pair at another table were the ones to rise. 

Cassandra had of course clocked them when she entered, that part of her brain that she could never shut off had cataloged every person in the restaurant before she was even fully past the door. 

The woman was tall, taller than any of her brothers. Even taller than Bruce. She might even be as tall as Wonder Woman. She had long flaming red locks that cascaded down her back, restrained only by a teal headband. She had sat facing the entrance and had clearly clocked the Batgirl trio as fighters as well. She was well muscled and moved with the practiced grace of a trained martial artist. When Condiment King had appeared she had seemed more annoyed than scared or truly bothered by him. 

Her companion was skinny and small in the same way that street kids usually were, the same way Jason had been and even Cass herself. Like no matter how much food he ate it would never be enough to make up for not getting enough as a kid. Even though he had his back to the entrance he had still been aware of every person as they came and went, cocking his head and tracking them by sound alone. He looked to be the same age Cass was. Cass could tell they were siblings, though they looked just about as different as possible. 

The two of them had conversed in rapid sign language, the woman speaking and signing, while he listened and signed back. It made Cassandra’s heart leap, seeing someone else just like her. She had just happened to sit so she could read some of his signs while showing that she used ASL as well. Though he apparently didn’t like his food very much because he kept saying something about “nasty burgers.” 

Right before Condiment King had walked in, the guy had sat up and shivered before looking around warily. His sister had sighed and carefully wiped her fingers on her napkin, unhurried by whatever had spooked him. Then one of Gotham’s least effective, yet most annoying, rogues walked in and declared he was robbing the place. 

The guy stood up and pulled what looked to Cass to be a highly scientific soup thermos and snuck up behind Condiment King as he was threatening the tired, underpaid and overworked cashiers. Cass couldn’t help but notice how silent he walked, he glided over the ground like a dancer as if gravity was only the merest of suggestions. He thumbed a switch on the side of his thermos and a brilliant blue beam poured out, catching Condiment King’s attention. 

Condiment King turned and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw a random civilian holding a soup container threateningly. The rogue and the stranger both looked down at the thermos in confusion. He opened his mouth as if to speak but instead some horrible combination of sparking electricity, cracking ice and distant screams came out. Somehow Cass could almost hear words past the noise and she was amazed that she could understand him. 

“Huh. I would have sworn you were one of mine.” 

Condiment King scowled past his confusion and readied his mustard cannon. 

“Danny, now's not the time for quips.” His sister said as she pulled him out of the way of the yellow fountain. “I’m not letting you back in the apartment if you smell like mustard.” 

Then she pulled a baton from the back of her belt that extended into a bo staff. Two quick strikes had Condiment King disarmed and on the ground, a third and he was dazed enough to not be a threat. 

“Well done, Jazz!” Danny had set his thermos down on the countertop so he could excitedly sign to his sister, then he looked around in confusion. “But then what triggered my ghost sense?” 

No sooner had he finished his signs, than a translucent being phased through the wall, a box in his hands. He looked to be dressed as a regular warehouse worker, though he glowed, floated and apparently could ignore solid walls. He immediately began flinging frozen hamburger patties from his box around. 

“I’m the Box Ghost! Ghostly master of all things rectangular and corrugated! Beware!” 

“Ah, there you are Boxy.” Danny said in his strange and crackling voice. Cass could see that Stephanie and Barbara couldn’t understand what he was saying as they both clamped their hands over their ears at the cacophony. 

Cass watched Danny with this Box Ghost. Clearly the two knew each other, she could practically see the rapport Danny had. She couldn’t keep herself from admiring Danny’s form. He flowed like water around the frozen patties. Even when her brothers were at their most agile and graceful, there was an element of elegance that was missing from their movements. Yet with Danny he skated around the projectiles. 

He was also aware of every person in the restaurant. One of the frozen burgers would have easily missed Danny, but hit one of the others, except he caught it and spun it right back at Box Ghost. That level of awareness was difficult for even seasoned heroes, and showed how often Danny had faced overwhelming odds, he knew exactly what would happen if he failed to be aware of someone in the line of fire. 

She appreciated how in control he was of his strength. She could see it in the bunching and tightening of his muscles that he wasn’t using anywhere near his full strength in this fight. It was a level of restraint she knew far too personally. It was the restraint of someone who had hurt others before and would never do so again. 

“Alright Boxy, you’re making a mess. Time to be done” Danny said, grabbing the thermos once more and again flipping the switch. This time when the beam of light caught the ghost it began to pull them in like a vortex. 

“Darn your cylindrical containment device!” The voice of the Box Ghost diminished until it completely disappeared along with the ghost and the beam of light. Danny spun the thermos in his hand for a moment before he clipped it onto his belt with a flourish. 

Cass glanced at the other Batgirls and, unsurprisingly, saw Steph almost salivating over the amazonian woman. Steph liked her women strong, tall and hyper competent. Meetings with the rest of the Justice League usually left her vibrating with barely controlled desire. She had almost needed a vacation the first time she met Big Barda. Steph was already half way up out of her seat to introduce herself. 

Barbara seemed similarly impressed, though as she was currently dating Dinah Lance, her interest was different. She had her phone out and was typing rapidly, no doubt hacking the security system of the Batburger to remove any evidence of their actions, as clear a sign of her approval as anything. 

With a smile Cass also stood and followed Steph. The two Batgirls would absolutely introduce themselves to these two, and hopefully that introduction would eventually lead to a date, or maybe more.

[lostintransist]

Tomorrows From Before | Part 1

Reader's callsign is Lynx, used in place of name.

CW: Violence, that's all this chapter.

The only nice thing about being pulled up into the 141 had to be the single room. Not having a roommate would let you put up with a lot. The lot that you put up with now would send a lesser soldier to the nuthouse.

You had stumbled over so many odd dynamics in the team. Meeting Price had gone well. He wasn’t terribly old and while he felt like an overworked father, you were grateful to have someone you could solidly place your trust in. Your last leader had been a nepo baby, and while he kept his job your partner had been KIA due to his leadership choices.

Roach scared the shit out of you. He stared. He didn’t try to talk to you, just stared. It got a bit easier when he offered you a controller and then promptly kicked your ass at Mario Party, but he still scared you. Gaz was nice enough, if a bit cool and reserved. Ghost and Soap had to be lovers. You would bet your challenge coin collection on it.

Something about the way the two of them either circled each other like planets locked in orbit or touched in the slightest hint of ways is how you clocked it. You couldn’t decide if no one else knew or if they didn’t care. Fraternization rules be damned you guess. You weren’t in charge of them and wouldn’t take the heat for them getting caught.

Price had everyone running drills today. These drills were different than what you were used to. Each member of the team had to pair up with one other member, run the course, then run it again with a different member. You figured you were the reason for these drills. These guys had several missions under their belts of working together. As the outlier Captain Price wanted to reduce the friction of newness between you and everyone else. It was a good plan.

It would have been a good plan. Should have been. It all fell to shit on your first run.

The 141 had been running the drill alongside the 261, an airborne as opposed to ground crew like them. Should have been fine. They should have stepped up when the fight started when you got dragged into it for daring to visibly exist in a fem-shaped body.

A sergeant with a little man complex and little man syndrome caught you by the braid as you cleared the last room with Gaz. Your boot to the inside of his knee and a backhand across his face shocked him enough that you slipped through the door to freedom. Sergeant barreled after you, catching you under the arm with a shoulder and tossing you a few feet away.

You landed funny, one knee down and one up. The seconds it took you to right had him right on top of you. This is where your teammates should have stepped in. Where they failed you the first time. Right hook to the face split your lip and sent you directly into the open palm that caught you in the ear.

A pain unlike any you had ever experienced knifed through your ear. Disoriented you returned the blows.

Punch, he batted it away. Good that let you step in. Body shot followed by an uppercut to his chin. His teeth snapped together in a satisfying click that you hoped would leave a mark.

Nailing him between the legs with his eyes on the sky he drops to his knees before you.

“That is enough!” Someone yelled. You think it is from the left of you.

Your eardrum has to be ruptured. No tension on the thin skin meant a lack of pinpoint hearing. Stepping back you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand.

Stringy, bloody, spittle coats your wrist to knuckle.

A man you’ve never seen starts yelling in your face.

“What company are you?”

“141.”

“Price’s?”

You nod once sharply.

“I’ll leave him to deal with your punishment for this altercation.”

He rounds on the sergeant still holding his jewels, must be his captain from the dressing down.

Stepping away from the verbal lashing you end up standing in front of the team, scanning for Price.

“You uh,” Soap is speaking to you. “You got something here.”

He points to the side of his neck just below the earlobe.

Fuck. You must be bleeding.

“Sorry? What was that? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU PAST MY BLOWN-OUT EARDRUM!”

No one says anything. They all stare, stone sentries.

“That’s what I thought fuckers.”

You spit the blood that had collected in your mouth and on your tongue on the dirt between your boots and theirs.

“Tell Price I’ve gone to medical and will report at his office in one hour for my punishment.”

“Yep, that’s ruptured.”

The nurse practitioner pulled the otoscope back and her face with it. Stepping around the elevated table you sit on she checks your other ear.

“I felt the membrane tear, I know it’s ruptured. What do I do for it?” You sit still as the plastic piece tickles the inside of your ear.

“Pretty easy actually,” she tossed the cap into the garbage and hung the light back on the wall. “Don’t get any water in it, so showers only, no diving for the next four to six weeks. If you have any leakage or pain come back and we will check for an infection.”

Sliding on the backless wheeled stool the nurse pulls out her notepad, writing down your excuse note for Captain Price. Ripping off the single small page she hands it to you.

“Oh, and if you have to sneeze? Open your mouth.”

Taking the square with a nod you hop off the table.

“Cut them some slack, if you can.”

Glancing down at the nurse she answers the question in your face.

“They nearly lost everyone the entire 141 in the past few months to an American General and an American contractor. Brass threw an accomplished American into the lion’s den to see if they were still tamable.”

The indifference, coolness, and even hostility all made sense now.

You stalk out of the room and out of the clinic without a word to anyone. Everyone who passes you glances from your lip to the dark look in your eyes and shifts from your path. The twenty-minute walk to Price’s office is not enough to cool your rage.

Standing at the solid door you knock, and wait. Twenty seconds pass before the door opens. Ghost, Soap, Roach, and Gaz all trailed out of the office. None of them looked at you, their eyes trained on the floor. You focus on the narrow gaps their bodies allow to see Price staring daggers after them. Once Gaz leaves the door frame you step in and shut the door.

The buzzy overhead lights had been turned off, a few small lamps lit the space instead.

“Thanks for coming by. Sit,” Price gestures to the standard-issue chairs in front of his desk.

You settle in, placing the nurse’s note in the center of his desk. Leaning back you watch him, this British captain. You thought about what had been shared with you. Were you a lamb for the slaughter?

Waiting him out seemed the right choice. It went against the hostage negotiation training you had in the past but if you were the hostage nothing you said would release you from this situation.

Price sighed deeply, tapped the note twice, and looked up at you.

“Tell me what happened.”

So you do, everything you remember up to and including your line in the sand, or rather blood in the dirt, with the guys.

“Sir, I was informed in medical today that I am the canary in the coal shaft. Would you agree that is my role on this team?”

He filled his lungs slowly, ribs expanding and retracting.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

This question seemed to stump him. He leaned back in his chair, fully extending the stretch of the chair. Crossing his arms across his chest he looks at you.

Silence lingers.

“Brass only sees value in the 141 as a joint team. If we can’t prove that we can work with outsiders again then we will be disbanded. The men now know the reality of the situation and I imagine that by the time their laps are done, they will have a plan to make it look like they have accepted you.”

“Are you telling me not to trust them?” Apprehension walked your spine, a spider on a thread of silk.

“I am telling you to be watchful, be careful. You were chosen for your stellar record and for your various training dealing with difficult personalities. They will grow to trust you; Brass wants to make sure you can live long enough to see that flower blossom.”

“And if I refuse to sing for a paycheck?” You lean forward, elbow settling on your knees.

“Then we handle whatever Brass decides. If you don’t want this challenge no one will think less of you for it.” Captain searches your face, no expression passing through his.

Blowing a breath out of your nose you stand.

“If it becomes too much I will inform you. Now about my punishment?”

Sitting upright Price waves a hand as if dismissing cigar smoke.

“I will write up something that will pass muster but I am not adding insult to injury. You did the right thing. The guys are running laps as punishment for not stepping in to save a teammate, even if she didn’t need it.”

He must have caught your mouth opening in defense.

“You are dismissed, Lynx.”

Huffing a breath you leave Price’s office much the same way the guys did, mad.

Shout out to @bernardsbendystraws for the super cute divider!

Masterlist

[starreyblueberry]

THIS SOMEHOW TURNED INTO A JIMMYTIMMY FIC THIS WAS SUPPOSE TO JUST BE A RAMBLE.. LOWKEY brainrot over Timmy and Jimmy right now. Ignoring the fact that the specials are some of the best episodes from BOTH of the shows (idk what people say 1 2 and 3 were all peak), the characters Timmy and Jimmy have such potential?? Like two polar opposites who use different forms of creation to express their creativity, yet similar kids who could find solstice within each other, as they both feel left out within their lives due to differences they cant quite fix, but still are able to understand each other. How they both became quick friends who bicker, and actually taught each other how to live, idk I think it's sweet.

Maybe they kept in touch over the years? That they texted till Midnight? That they considered each other their best friends at one point? I mean- it would make sense! With what they both go though, especially if it spans years, them becoming best friends, being able to understand each other like no one else, it makes sense. They would visit each other's dimensions as much as they could. They didn't want to destroy the multiverse, but they also wanted to see each other. Jimmy had a small google calendar that at least once a month, had "Timmy Turner stay over" or "Visit Turner's dimension." Jimmy and Timmy would have sleepovers at each other's place, usually Timmy staying a few days with Jimmy. They would go too amusement parks one day, and space the next. Jimmy became close with the computer programs "Cosmo and Wanda" as well, having conversations with them about his inventions, and giving him actual advice! (Mostly Wanda, Cosmo usually just tried to shoot random things with his wand- but he was sweet in his own way) They even had a prototype called "Poof" appear once in a while. He usually clung onto Timmy and would call him his older brother (he questions the true sentience of these beings). They both had memorized every nook and cranny of each other's houses/cities. They both could pass as residents there with how much knowledge they had of the other dimensions. Hell- all of Timmy's friends knew who Jimmy was and all of Jimmy's friends knew who Timmy was. They even visited each other's schools a few times! They were part of each others lives even if they weren't part of the same reality, Timmy would teach Jimmy how to relax, it was something Jimmy struggled with, especially as he grew up. He was making world-altering inventions daily, but when Timmy was around, sometimes he would just listen to him talk about comics or go on a walk on a different planet. It was peaceful, especially as Timmy would push that he didn't always need to solve everything, and he was allowed to take breaks. Sure Jimmy still overwork himself, but he doesn't feel as guilty when he takes naps anymore. Jimmy taught Timmy that he's never alone and that people do in fact care about him besides his godparents. That while his family sucked, he wasn't fated to just be miserable. He was creative, kind, smart, funny, and people were idiots if they couldn't see that. Timmy won't ever admit to shedding a tear that day, as well as getting a gift for him the next day (A drawing of Gonard and Jimmy, as well as a polaroid attached to it of Timmy and Jimmy on the beach, splashing water on each other.) Timmy gained a bit more hope in the future after that.

Eventually, Jimmy could really see Timmy being his friend forever, and actually had a meaningful bond with him. That he never wants Timmy to leave his side, even if they bicker like a old married couple everyday, even if people tell both of them that their way to destructive together, even if somehow- some enemy of there's wants to make sure they both end up dead, Jimmy wants to find Timmy every step of the way. Timmy would have had the same thoughts if he hadn't known that it was all futile anyway. He would have had the exact same feelings- he does! But he knows that after he's 18, it's over. He knows that the moment the clock strikes 12, he can never step foot in retrovill again, he could never hear the name Jimmy Neutron again outside of blurry memories from his friends. He would forget every adventure, party, sleepover, late-night drives, and multi-dimensional butt-kicking he experienced with Jimmy. Timmy tried to hold it off for so long, he really did. He refused to let Jimmy know anything about this, he didn't want Jimmy trying to solve this, he knew that would be impossible. He didn't want all of his hangouts to just be speculation on how he could stay, he just wanted to spend some time with his best friend. With the person he would have spent the rest of his life with, if it was possible.

Jimmy was working on a surprise gift for Timmy. He was trying to do something creative rather than scientific since that was Timmy's style. He was trying to sew patches onto a pink hoodie, small white stars being embroidered along the sleeve. It looked simple sure, but it was something Jimmy was working on for days! He even set aside his latest project for it, which is saying a lot for Jimmy. They had planned a hangout just 2 days before his birthday, he knew that Timmy always spent his birthday with his computer programs, so an early birthday gift was due! Jimmy could hear the portal booting up from behind him, and he felt a spark of excitement within him. When Timmy stepped out of the portal, Jimmy folded the hoodie in his hands and was ready to hand it to Timmy, he hopped off his chair and walked to Timmy. He noticed the redness in his eyes and his tired demeanor, huh, must have had an adventure with his computer programs the day before. He was going to say Happy Early Birthday and a snarky remark on how he's surprised he reached adulthood. Timmy didn't let Jimmy get one word in before he broke the news though "Jimmy look, please please don't be mad at me I just-" Jimmy could already see the sweat forming on Timmys head, god did Timmy mess up again? dId he fuck up with some sort of extraterrestrial creature and needs his help? for the love of science. "I have something important to tell you." Timmy quietly says. Timmy shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, as he slightly looked down to avoid direct eye contact with Jimmy. "I've wanted to tell you for the past YEAR, and it been so hard to even find the words!" His voice is quickening in pace, he even grabs his hat and starts to fidget with it in his hands. "and I know I fucked up by not telling you sooner I know, but you deserve this explanation for what's about to happen, and I'm just gonna spit it out right here and now-"

Jimmy could see how panicked he was as if he was on a time limit. ... "I'm going to forget you, and retrovill- everything. There's nothing you can do about it either." ...At first, It was denial. Jimmy was so confused, he said he could probably just make a memory machine and bring them back later, all these "dramatics" weren't necessary. I mean, forget the past 8 years? He could practically sense the bullshit coming from that statement, He was already about to start working on it before Timmy refused. He explained how if he kept his memories, the computer programs could "fry up" or whatever. Jimmy just said he could alter them to have better software, but Timmy refused. "Look- I can just upload your memories into my computer and it'll be fine! I already have a bunch of videos of us throughout the years it wouldn't be too hard." He explained very casually, Jimmy quickly glaced over his lab as he said this, his hand following to showcase all the gadgets he could use to easily solve this!

"Jimmy no" Timmy put his hand on his nose, slightly squeezing it. "these programs are beyond whatever science-thingy you can do- its not just science its more complicated-" Jimmy interjected "Science can fix everything Turner, I thought you've known me long enough to know that," He said smugly as he slightly grinned at his comeback. Timmy just glared back, and Jimmy could sense that Timmy didn't want to just bicker around this "Jimmy you can't fix this, this isn't even possible to comprehend to the human mind, even a genius. I can't explain how the memory erasure works but I NEED to forget" Timmy puts his hands in the air as he says this, and his eyes get slightly wide as he continues on "or else there would be consequences that I don't want either of us to face, or my family, my world!" He exclaims with all the emotion he could muster in his voice. "I'm not letting you touch Cosmo or Wanda either." Jimmy quickly realizes with a quick look around the lab and Timmy's clothes that the computer programs weren't even there with Timmy, he must have thought this out, smart bastard.

Then, it was anger. They argued till their voice broke, until screaming was all they could do. Jimmy was furious, why wouldn't Timmy tell him. He must have known, all these years, he must have known that everything would shatter and become whatever shit show is happening right now, Jimmy was so sure he could fix this, while Timmy was saying it's not possible, and all Jimmy could do is keep asking why isn't it, while Timmy would just avoid the question. He was thinking of every single invention, every single piece of technology, of scientific knowledge that could help, until Timmy says that its out of Jimmy's hands, and that he knows nothing can be changed. "Why the hell wouldn't you tell me?? I could have solved this by now, I could have, why the fuck wouldn't you have let me" Jimmy puts his hands in the air as he exclaims this Timmy takes a step back "Because I knew you would have a meltdown over this, I knew you would just try and solve this with whatever gizmo you have and then come up empty-handed-" "Since when have I ever come up empty-handed." Jimmy takes a step forward, frustration dripping as he stares Timmy directly in the eyes. Timmy takes a slight pause and just slightly squints his eyes. "You would have if you worked yourself to death" His voice slightly breaks as he says this, his feet feel stuck to the ground. Jimmy can feel his face heat up "You didn't let me try!" He can hear his own echo in the lab at this rate "Cause I wanted to hang out with you! I wanted to actually be with you at the moment, not worried about- this!" Timmy gestures to Jimmy himself as he says this, his voice getting more and more meek. He was practically pleading, with Timmy, begging him to let him at least let him try. He was coming up with different solutions, maybe living in Retrovill instead! Sure he has no idea what that would do to the multiverse, but he could invent something to protect the fabric of it while Timmy stays, or maybe if Timmy would just let him alter his computer programs he can figure out a way to make sure his memory wouldn't overdrive their software, or maybe he could look at da rules himself and check for loopholes- or maybe- "Stop. Please just- just stop." Timmy's voice cracks as he says this, tears shining in his eyes. Jimmy could see his own reflection within them. He could see his own crazed expression, and how it affected Timmy. He focused on every single detail of his face, the heavy eyebags, the dull blue that was usually an aqua, he even noticed a small redness in his cheeks. It hurt, it hurt so much and he didn't. He didn't know what to do, and he hated not knowing what to do. It's a horrible feeling to not know what's going on, or what's happening around you. It feels empty and insulting, like it's a personal attack on who you are, and what you've been working towards your whole life.

It was the first time Jimmy cried in years. Hes not much of a crier, he's more of a scream-into-a-pillow or sulk-quietly type of guy. He doesn't like making a big fuss about his emotions, especially as he got older and was taking more serious projects that could actually impact the people around him. The last time he cried was probably when he was 11- but now it felt uncontrollable. Timmy soon quickly followed suit, tears flowing out as small hicks can be heard out of him. It was one of the worst days of Jimmy's life, no, it was the worst day of his life. How can this be something so out of his control, that he was about to lose his best friend, one of the most important things to him in this entire multiverse and he could do nothing. Jimmy was in a hysterical fit, he pulled his hair a bit as he felt his breathing quicken, he didn't know what to do he just didn't he's stumped. Hes Jimmy Neutron! Boy genius! He has 8 PHDS and multiple Nobel prizes under his belt, he has explored places that the average human can't even fathom, and yet he can't even save- Timmy always knew what to say. He was quick to comfort Jimmy the moment he saw him spiraling. He gently put his hands on Jimmy's hands and lowered them from his head, Jimmy didn't like physical contact, but god if he could glue Timmy's hand to his he would. He looked at Jimmy's eyes and smiled his stupid bucktooth smile. As if that would make everything go away, as if that would erase the fact that he's going to go away forever, Jimmy couldn't help himself from smiling back though. God Timmy was the one about to forget everything and yet he comforts Jimmy? He ridiculed himself in his mind for making Timmy help him, and yet he wanted to hear whatever he had to say so, so badly. Timmy took a deep breath before talking "I've, never been the most articulate," his voice strained, like he's struggling to talk. "but please trust me when I say this. Even if I forget, there's nothing that could erase all the fun we've had together over the years. These memories, just cause they're not in my mind directly, don't erase the fact that they happened!" Timmy states with hope in his tone, he slightly rubs the back of Jimmy's hands with his thumb. "Somewhere, out there, in some form of reality, it showed that we spent all those years together fucking around, and that will always mean everything to me." He looks at Jimmy's eyes when he says that, and grins at him. Jimmy laughed a bit at that sentence, which caused Timmy to smile even more, he didn't stop talking though. "No matter who I meet, no matter where I go, no one can ever top you Neutron, and I promise that. Even if we both forgot somehow, even if the world was destroyed, it wouldn't erase the fact that at one point, we existed together, and everything was ok." After an hour or two, Timmy spent the whole day in his dimension. He said goodbye to Cindy, Sheen, Carl, and even Jimmy's parents. Sheen and Carl cried a bit, they didn't fully understand, but they said they'll miss him, and that they'll read the crimson chin comics Timmy lent them in remembrance. Cindy hugged Timmy for a few minutes, she actually considered Timmy really good company, and she lent Timmy one of her hair ties, even if he never used it, Timmy said hell keep forever. Jimmy's parents were.. hard to say the least. They both liked Timmy, but they didn't get the full grasp of him leaving, so Timmy just said that he was moving abroad to England. They just asked him to visit whenever he can and to keep in touch. It almost made Jimmy cry for a second time that day, which would have been a new record.

The walk to Jimmy's lab was quiet, barely a sound was made between either of them. You could hear the small footsteps they were both taking, walking a bit slower than average. Once Jimmy entered his lab, he could feel the cool breeze of the ac he left on lingering. He saw the portal, and he knew that he had to power it on. That he couldn't just keep Timmy here, but his feet wouldn't take another step. "Thank you." Timmy puts a hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he says that. Jimmy can't even say anything, he has no words could really express any emotion he's feeling right now. He just nods slightly and smiles at him. He knows that's probably the last time they'll ever smile at each other again. Jimmy finds the switch to the portal and boots it up, he sees the green swirl and feels nauseous just looking at it. Usually, the sight would trigger some excitement within Jimmy, but he just feels dread as he sees Timmy walking up to the portal. He really wished he could just freeze time and hang out with Timmy for one more second, but he knows he can't. Jimmy just sighed and was ready to wave goodbye, until he remembered something so important- god how could he forget- that he screamed at the top of his lungs- "TIMMY WAIT!" Right before he left, right before Timmy put his foot into the portal, Jimmy ran to his desk, ransacking it for- YES! Jimmy found the gift he was making Timmy at the corner of his table, with all the new sewing supplies he bought just for this occasion. Once he grabbed it he threw it to Timmy's way. Timmy snatched the hood and slightly gasped when he saw it. Timmy held it with such care, he called it sappy, but he couldn't erase the grin on his face. He tackled hugged Jimmy, and Jimmy barely could keep his footing. Jimmy could feel Timmy grabbing onto the back of his coat, and him relaxing onto his shoulder a bit more. Usually, Jimmy would complain about almost losing balance, and how suffocating hugs feel, but this time he latched onto Timmy as hard as he can. He pushed his head onto his shoulder and refused to be the first one to let go. It was the last hug hed ever receive from him, and he wanted to stay like this for as long as time would let them. Once Timmy let go, he turned around walking to the portal again. Jimmy could feel the tears pricking his eyes again, but he didn't feel as hopeless as this morning. "TIMMY!" Timmy abruptly stopped walking, mere centimeters from being transported into his dimension. "You're still the idiot I've known all these years if you think I'm not going to try and find you in the future." Timmy turns his head to see Jimmy smiling proudly at Timmy. "I don't care if your 30 working a desk job, or a famous comic book writer, or actor, or whatever! I'll go to your dimension myself, and find you. I'll figure out how to get your memory back, and.. if I can't- I'll just be your friend again, I'll do it all over again, and I promise that." Jimmy finishes off with a confident note. Timmy, in all his pessimistic glory, can't help but believe in Jimmy. "Thanks, Boy genius." "No problem, Average kid who no one understands."

[genshin-obsessed]

Hi! I'd like to be called Kaili, please.

May I request Wriothesley getting a back massage from his s/o?

Hello Kaili! I hope you like it ^w^ I'm in such a Wriothesley mood like... UGHHH two pretty bois one after the other is just wrong. Word count: 558

Aches and Pains

Wriothesley was a hard worker to say the least, he kept things running pretty smoothly down in the Fortress of Meropide, a place you lived in with him. You weren't exactly a criminal, no, just a person desperate to be with the one they love. So, you were given the chance to visit him for a certain time before having to return back to Fontaine for your duties.

Wriothesley, of course, was madly in love with you and spent the days apart missing you. He did his best not to be too soft around the residents of Meropide by constantly talking about you, however, Sigewinne was a bit different. Wriothesley practically talked her ear off when it came to you. She didn't mind though, often finding Wriothesley's softer side refreshing.

However. One of the things that Sigewinne didn't like was his constant overworking plus the workouts he did often. He claimed- quite shamelessly- that he needed to stay fit for you. He couldn't possibly neglect his workout routine because of responsibilities or whatever. Sigewinne often found herself scolding Wriothesley and eventually decided to just hand him over to you, telling you to handle him.

"You overdid it again, didn't you?" You asked once you entered Wriothesley's bedroom and saw him laying in bed, much earlier than usual.

"Oh, please. I'm not a little boy who can't handle things. I'm just a bit tired and sore. That's all." Wriothesley replied, with his usual smile as he looked over at you. His hair was slightly messy, making you chuckle as you walked over to him. Sitting beside him, you reached out and began to fix his hair slowly.

"You certainly act like one sometimes." To that, Wriothesley pouted a little, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

"You wound me, darling." Wriothesley closed his eyes once more and breathed in and out, placing your hand on his chest. You stared down at him, a soft smile on your lips. As you watched him, an idea hit you.

"Hey, lay on your stomach."

"What?" The man asked as he opened his eyes. You gestured for him to turn and he did so, still confused. Your warm hands slid over his bare back, slowly beginning to massage his aching muscles. A soft sigh escaped Wriothesley as he got comfortable and began to relax. With every passing moment, his aching muscles felt more and more relief.

"Feel good?" You asked, looking down at him. He gave you a soft nod, his eyes still closed.

"Very. I do feel a little bad you have to do this for me... I'll be sure to repay you." He mumbled, his voice getting drowsier by the second. You only chuckled as you kept moving your hands over his muscles, feeling every curve and divot below your palms. The workouts certainly kept him in shape, his figure was amazing.

A comfortable silence fell upon you two while you kept massaging his back. Making sure to get his shoulder muscles as best as you could. Your hands slid down his spine gently before you applied pressure in different locations.

"Huh?" You slowly pulled your hands away and leaned down to see Wriothesley was asleep. With a giggle, you leaned down and kissed his cheek, slowly brushing his hair into place before pulling the blanket over him. "Sleep well, love."