#politely i am going to run my tongue over every last inch of him

[wildsaltair]

I don’t have much of value to contribute this morning except SIKE Maximus is always of the greatest value to me with his shirt on or off

[fang-natic]

honor roll, dean's list

<tsukishima x top!m!professor!reader>

cw: feminization, dubcon, dumbification, unbalanced power dynamics, teacher/student, loss of virginity

a/n: it's 2 3 am. i'll find a header later

Long story short, you are a bit of a difficult professor.

That means no extra credit. No deadline extensions. No if's, and's, or but's. You don't have time for slackers, though you've had plenty of students grovel at your feet for a second chance, just a few extra percentage points to change letter grades. You like to consider yourself immune to most of them. You've seen them pull every trick in the book.

But the keyword here is 'most'. You do have a weakness, and depending on the student, you're more than happy to let them exploit that.

One such student this semester was Tsukishima Kei.

He's an honor roll, dean's list, straight-A undergraduate. He shows up on time, leaves at the bell, returns papers and homework filled out in perfect penmanship. He doesn't participate in many extracurriculars, aside from volleyball. He speaks with clipped words and shrewd politeness.

He's also leaning against the desk of your office right now, white blouse partway unbuttoned to reveal the black bralette underneath and red lipstick smeared across his equally-red face.

You lean back to admire your handwork. His blond hair is ruffled and spiked up in different directions from your tousling. Dark bruises are blooming prettily against his pale neck. The short little tartan skirt you had him wear is riding up, revealing the edge of the white stockings on his long legs.

"Professor..." He breathes, almost a whine, and you smile. "Your promise."

That's right. You did do that, didn't you? He dressed up for you and you let him keep his 4.0 gpa.

You click your tongue. "I didn't see all of it yet," You chide, tapping an open palm against his thigh and making him jolt. "Turn around and bend over for me, Kei."

The blush on his face somehow grows deeper, and crawls down his neck. He complies, leaning carefully over the strewn papers so as not to move them, the skirt lifting up to reveal soft black lace. Through it, you can just make out the glint of something shiny, nestled between his cheeks.

Your smile grows wider. He really did go through with all of it, down to the last detail. As expected from such a model student.

"To think you were wearing this during class," You murmur, as you drag the edge of the panties to the side to give more access to his hole. He jumps under your touch. "You were so clever to change into the skirt after the class, but you couldn't be bothered to do the same with this?" You flick the end of the plug, and he gasps. "I saw you squirming during my lecture. I almost wanted to ask if you were alright."

The blush made the back of his neck glow bright red. "I didn't want to prep myself in the bathroom," he muttered. He's refusing to look at you. "It's easier to do at home."

"Smart girl. Did you do this before?" You tug lightly, the plug sliding a fraction of an inch outwards before sinking back in, and a full-bodied shiver runs up the boy's spine.

"N-no," His voice trembles for the first time. "This is - my first time."

"Your first time doing what? Seducing a professor for extra points?" When he doesn't reply right away, you land a light slap against his ass, eliciting a sharp gasp. "Or wearing a toy in public?"

"It's my first time doing anything." Oh, that was what you were hoping to hear. You had been hoping he'd be a virgin, but with his looks you wouldn't have been been surprised if he wasn't. And even if he's lying, you'll fuck him as if he was telling the truth. Ruthlessly and completely ruining him for anyone that came afterwards.

You pull the plug out of him in one sharp motion, making him yelp. His hole is pink and puffy, shiny with lube and twitching as you line your cock up, gripping his waist.

"W-w-wait! Professor-" He reaches to grab your wrist, a look on franticness on his face as he glances over his shoulder. "I-shouldn't you prep me before-?"

"It's fine, isn't it? You were wearing that plug." You chuckle. "If you did it all right, you will be fine, Kei."

And you slam forward.

The movement shoves Tsukishima forward against the desk, scattering pens and papers everywhere and knocking him down, his face dragging against the wood. His eyes are wide with a sort of shock, and his legs are shaking - he gasps, hardly able to make a sound as his hole flutters tightly around you. If you were kinder, you'd give him a moment to adjust, to get used to your size.

But to reiterate. You're something of a difficult professor. And you don't have time for slackers.

The pace you set is punishing right off the bat, dragging the boy's slender frame up and down the desk, hands bruising a ring around his thin waist. Each thrust punches a thin cry out of him, barely managing to keep his face up as he tries to prop himself up again. His legs have completely given out, reduced to being splayed out and twitching on the carpet as you fuck into him.

"P-pro-ffess-or-" He wails. "Y/N- it hurts-!"

"Hush, now. Good girls don't complain." You adjust your grip and tilt his hips upwards, curling his spine at a brutal angle before pounding in again. It must be just as painful as before, but now you can hear the startled moan that leaves him as you slam against his prostate. You reach down and lift up one of his legs, squeezing his thigh appreciatively as you pull his knee up to his chest, and the new position lets you thrust deeper. "There, now. Is that better? Does that feel good?"

"Y-yes," He slurs out. When he turns his face over his shoulder again, you can see his pupils are blown out and glassy with tears, face flushing beautifully. It's clear that his thoughts are scattered - he's not the same composed student he was before. "Please..."

"Your tight little hole is taking it beautifully, Kei. It's blushing all red and pretty for me." And on cue, his hole clenches, hot and slick and perfect. "Do you want a reward, baby?"

He nods dumbly, and you lean over and kiss him, letting him start out all chaste and clumsy before licking his lips open and fucking your tongue between his teeth. Hot and slick and tasting like coffee and strawberry candy, and he moans helplessly. Before long, you feel him tighten once more around you - like a velvet vice - and he shakes apart, cumming with a soft whimper.

It takes you completely by surprise, and you follow quickly after, biting his lips with a groan and filling him deep. As you pull away, you note that his mouth is swollen and shiny with spit, and his ass is red from slapping against your hips. You flip him over, and find that the exposed skin of his chest was rubbed pink against the desk. His panties are darkened from his own cum, and there's a dark line from where the edge of the desk had bruised against his thighs. Between all this and the cum sliding out between his cheeks, he looks completely debauched.

He looks perfect.

He doesn't seem to be registering everything that's happening, as he blinks slowly and confusedly at you, and then himself. "Ah-Professor..."

"You came before me, you know," You tut. "If you want me to think about giving you that A, you'll have to do better next time. Understand?"

He blinks again, and nods, as you reach out to wipe the thin line of drool from the corner of his lips.

"Good girl."

[anonymousfiction211]

Give it time

Summary: Tony throws a party. Loki and you are in an established relationship. He watches the party and sees you and Steve getting too close for his liking. So, he decides to do something about it.

Word count: 3.185 words

Warnings: Angst, jealously, insecure Loki/soft Loki

Give it time He heard you laughing out loud again, from across the room. Loki was by the bar and already on his fourth, or fifth? no definitely fourth, drink of Asgardian mead. At least Thor was useful for something. He gulped down the rest of his drink and signalled the mortal behind the bar to pour him another. It looked like he was going to say something to him, but giving him his best death glare, to mortal held his tongue. He took a large sip and turned around eyeing the room. Tony was entertaining some of his friends, the widow was flirting with Banner who was oblivious to all hints and then he saw you with the soldier. The perfectly, honest, can do no wrong in his life soldier. He took another large sip. Thor was walking towards him.

‘Are you forgetting that you’re not drinking mortal alcohol, brother? Thor asked concerned.

‘No, of course not’ Loki replied irritated. I’m not like you. I’m only on my fourth drink, fourth right? Yeah, definitely fourth he thought.

‘Where’s your lady?’ Thor asked. Loki took another sip of his drink and gestured towards you and Steve.

‘Ah, at least she is in good company I see’ Thor said. Even tough Loki knew he didn’t mean it like that, the comment hurt him. But that was not something he would show. Before he could reply Thor was called by Tony, who probably wanted another attempt at wielding Mjölnir. Like that pathetic excuse of a man could ever wield it. Loki was distracted from his thoughts when he heard your laugh again. He heard it every time, it was the most wonderful and purest sound he had ever heard. He watched as you and Steve laughed with each other. Steve was getting a little too close for Loki’s liking, but he had learned not to disturb you. He was not in the mood to be having that fight with you, again. He is just a friend, he would never make a move knowing I’m with you, he isn’t like that, you had told him time and time again. Still, Loki never fully trusted Steve. When it came to you, he trusted no man.

He downed his drink and made a hand gesture to the mortal behind the bar, not caring to actually acknowledge his present this time. When his cup was filled again he took another sip. He watched as you told a story to Steve and saw your whole face light up. Maybe, you should be with someone like Steve. He is everything I am not. He is nice, polite, caring, courageous and he would treat you right. He was good, irritatingly good. In all the time Loki had known Steve he was waiting for him to slip up, make a mistake, but Loki was starting to think that day would never come. He tried to treat you like the queen you were, but he felt like he always comes up short with you. You had tried to reassure him that you loved him and would be his until the end of time, but Loki didn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe it. It won’t be long before she realizes she can do better. Everyone eventually does. Loki started to wonder how much time he would have left before Steve, or someone else, would steal you away. His preference would be anyone but Steve, he really hated Steve. He needed to be careful, he couldn’t bare losing you. Not this soon, if ever. He took another large sip of his cup, but realized it was empty. Damn mortal bartender forgot to refill my cup, again.

He signalled the bartender rather angry, the man looked frightened at him. Loki gave him a wicked grin and he swore he saw the man tremble a little. He loved to scare people. Something a good man, a better man, one deserving of you, would never do he thought while his smile faltered. Loki grabbed his cup and turned around. He saw that your story was coming to an end. The look on Steve’s face made him sick. He took a large sip. I should distract myself he thought. He eyed the room again, but the only thing he could do was sit beside Thor, who was telling some war story. Loki wasn’t in the mood. Loki looked back towards you when he heard you laugh again. Steve said something to you, but you couldn’t hear him. Stark had turned the music up. Horrible loud music. That’s when he saw the soldier put a hand around you and place it on your lower back. He pulled you slightly towards you and you whispered something in his ear.

THAT’S IT! Loki didn’t care anymore. He would not stand for this. He smashed his glass on the ground behind the bar, making the bartender flinch. Normally, he would laugh, but he had to get to you as fast as he could. He took a few steps, his balance felt a little off, but he didn’t care. He walked towards you as fast as he could. He slapped the soldier’s hand from your lower back and put his arm around your waist. He pulled you flush against him ‘Darling, a word’ he hissed.

‘Loki, I don’t think..’ Steve started before Loki put his hand in the air to silence him. He quickly teleported the two of you back to his chambers. He let go of you and locked the door. When he turned around he saw the rather angry expression on your face. But it was nowhere near the angry expression you saw on his face. ‘WHAT THE HELL, LOKI!’ you yelled at him, startled from the sudden change in environment. He didn’t respond, maybe teleporting wasn’t the best idea I ever had. There was an awkward silence that lasted longer than he would have liked. He was still searching for his words. ‘Why?’ you asked him.

‘I didn’t feel like watching how the two of you were flirting’ he replied.

‘You honestly think I was FLIRTING with him?’ you exclaimed.

‘He had his arm around you’ he responded.

‘He just pulled me closer so we could hear each other. Tony had turned up the music so loud, we couldn’t hear each other’ you replied.

‘He kept holding you’ the anger Loki had first felt was ebbing away. He didn’t want to admit, he would never to anyone, but he was trying to keep his emotions in check. He was certain you were going to dump him and run into the arms of the soldier, and Loki felt like crying.

‘So? It was a friendly gesture’ you said. That fuelled his anger once again. He loved you, but you were rather naïve sometimes. Loki really didn’t want to have this fight, again. He needed you to stay with him, he couldn’t let go of you, he won’t do it ever. He walked a few steps in your direction and was relieved he didn’t see you back away. He put his arm on the lower of your back and leaned in ‘Is this a friendly gesture?’ he whispered. He noticed how your breath hitched a little, you leaned in a little closer and your lips were almost touching his. ‘I think you need a reminder who you belong to’ he said huskily. It was a bold move, but he hoped it would keep you from leaving him.

A sly smile appeared on his face as he saw you swallow hard at his words. He knew what buttons to push to get you there. He let his lips ghost over yours and held back the urge to kiss you again and again, until you were out of breath. He needed to hear you moan, feel you whiter underneath him and realize that you needed him, hopefully enough to stay with him. He slowly started to walk you backwards until your legs hit his bed. He laid you down and immediately crawled on top of you. He started to kiss your collarbone and made his way up to your throat and ear. Making sure to leave bruises and marks, he loved to mark you. That way everybody would know you were his, and only his. He felt your heartbeat increase and your soft gasps, making him smile against your skin.

‘You’re mine’ he growled lowly in your ear. He felt you shiver slightly and noticed goosebumps starting to appear on your skin. He got up and startled your legs. With one strong movement he ripped your dress right through. He couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard you gasp. Then he saw that you didn’t wore any underwear. He cocked an eyebrow to silently asked you why. ‘I thought this would be easier for you’ you smirked, answering his silent question. Loki felt his cock stir, but right before he could continue the thought of Steve being so close to you, without you wearing any underwear popped into his head. He tried to distract himself and latched his mouth to one of your nipples. He massaged the other one by rolling your hardened nipple between his thumb and index finger. Already gasping and panting for air, and I have barely begun. He started to feel a bit dizzy, but ignored it. Maybe I should have listened to Thor and ease up on the drinks next time.

When he was finished with your breasts he slowly trailed open mouth kisses down your body. Making sure to kiss every inch of your body. He hummed against your skin when he felt you spread your legs. He kissed you lower and lower, stopping right before he was at your clit. He was pleased to smell your arousal, a scent as divine as the finest flower on Asgard. He ghosted your clit, knowing that drove you crazy. He felt your hands in his hair, urging him to stop teasing you. Loki let his tongue slip out and give you a light lick on your clit. His plan was to have you begging for more, but when he heard the moan that left your lips, he lost it. He latched his mouth firmly on your clit and swirled the hardened bud with his tongue. You tried to buck away at the sudden stimulation, but pulled your thighs over his shoulders and hold you firmly in place. ‘O god.. o god..’ you started to chant. It was lovely to hear, but not enough. Loki upped his game and let two fingers enter between your folds. He felt the wetness between your thighs and his fingers met no resistance. He slowly started to finger-fuck you while swirling his tongue on your clit in the same rhythm.

After only a short time he felt your walls clench around his fingers and knew you were close. The thought to stop crossed his mind for a second, but he would hear you beg soon enough. ‘O god, Loki’ you cried out as he felt the wave of pleasure wash over you. Your walls clenched hard around his fingers and you tried to move his tongue away from your clit, but failed. He kept pumping in and out of you while slowly circling your clit with his tongue. He wanted to prolong the feeling of your pleasure as long as he could. Once he noticed you started to come down from your high, he shimmered your clothes away and kissed his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you passionately while lining his hardened cock up with your entrance. ‘Hmm… Loki’ you moaned into the kiss. Right before he entered you he stilted and looked at you with a playful smile on his face. ‘Yes, darling?’ he asked feigning innocence. You tried to buck your hips so he would enter you, but Loki resisted.

‘If there is something you want, all you need to do is ask’ he mused while nibbling on your earlobe.

‘Take me’ you whispered. Loki kissed you eagerly again and entered you in one smooth motion. You gasped, you did it every time he entered you. It was his favourite part, every time. He felt your walls clenching down right away, and knew you still hadn’t come fully down from your orgasm. He didn’t give you time to recover and started to pound into you like this was the last time he would fuck you. Maybe it is. He tried to push the thought away and focus on your withering beneath him. He pulled your legs over his shoulder and leaned down to leave open kisses on your mouth. Sometimes he would slide his tongue in yours, exploring every inch and taking your breath away. He felt he was close and started to circle your clit with his fingers. He felt your walls clench and knew that if you came, he was done for. So, he stilted all movements and revelled inside when he hears a needy whine escape your lips.

‘Loki’ you panted, hoping that he would go on. But he made no movement.

‘Who do you belong to?’ he asked

‘You, I belong to you’ you said while catching your breath. Loki slowly started to resume his movements.

‘And who can make you feel like this?’ he grunted

‘God, yo- you, only you!’ you exclaimed when Loki picked up his pace.

‘Who’s this God you keep praying to?’ he mused, already knowing your answer.

‘You. God you. Please Loki, please let me come’ you begged him.

He snapped his hips as fast as he could and his fingers found your clit. He felt your walls clench. A feeling of pride went through him when he heard you chant his name so loud, the whole tower could probably hear it. In the middle of your orgasm, he felt his cock twitch and his seed spilled inside of you. Every time he came inside of you it felt like Valhalla itself. He pumped a few more times to ride out his own orgasm and pulled out. He laid down next to you, not wanting to collapse on top of you and crushing him with his weight. The feeling of dizziness grew and he even felt a little sick. Definitely drinking less next time. You crawled against him and he wrapped his arm around you. He was surprised when you kissed his cheek, not expecting the loving gesture.

‘You know, you don’t have to be jealous at Steve. There is nothing going on, I only want you’ you tried to reassure him. Loki just stared at the ceiling, he didn’t want to meet your gaze.

‘I don’t trust him’ he gritted through his teeth, trying to hold back his anger towards Steve.

‘Do you trust me?’ you asked him.

He was kind of startled that you asked him did. He looked into your eyes and saw a hint of hurt and desperation in them. He gave you a kiss on your forehead ‘With my life’ he whispered.

‘Then trust me, I will never leave you for Steve or any other man’ you tried to reassure him. You snuggled closer and kissed his chest. Loki wanted to tell you that you couldn’t possibly make such a promise, and that you shouldn’t. Not to him. But he was happy to have you next to him – for now - and didn’t want to spoil it. Not wanting to talk about it anymore he gave you a kiss on your head ‘We should clean up, you’re staying here tonight?’ he asked.

‘Of course, just like every other night this past week’ you giggled. You got up and went to the bathroom, while Loki cleaned himself with his seidr. ‘You need anything from the kitchen?’ he asked to you.

‘A water would be nice’ you replied from the bathroom.

Loki put on his sweatpants and went to the kitchen. He heard the party still in full swing on the floor above him. He opened the fridge to get a water bottle. When he closed he noticed that Steve had entered the kitchen, and he couldn’t give up his change to annoy him. ‘Sorry if we were too loud, I would tell you it won’t happen again tonight. But even I can’t tell that lie with a straight face’ Loki smirked towards Steve. He was a bit annoyed when Steve just shrugged ‘I barely heard the two of you’ he replied.

‘But I was a little concerned about you. You sure seemed a little intoxicated, you’re feeling better? Steve asked with genuine concern on his face. But Loki could see through the lie, he was actually mocking him. Knowing full well he drank too much, and why. Still, he played along.

‘Nothing a god like me can’t handle, mortal’ he replied rather dryly.

‘Good, for a moment there I was worried I had to take your lady home’ Steve said. This time making less of an attempt to show genuine concern.

‘You have nothing to worry about. I will always take her home’ he replied rather irritated.

The soldier just winked at him ‘Give it time’ he said while exiting the kitchen. Loki felt sick all over again and rushed towards the sink to vomit. When he was done he was scared that Steve had heard him, but he wasn’t there and didn’t hear him. He quickly cleaned the sink and his teeth with his seidr, while trying to figure out if it was Steve, the drinks, or a combination of both that caused him to vomit. I knew I shouldn’t trust him he thought. If Steve weren’t important to you, Loki would have killed him right now. Still, Steve’s intentions were very clear. Loki walked back towards his room and saw you already laying in his bed under the sheets. You were wearing one of his t-shirts and reading the book he had left there this morning. 

Only the light of the nightstand was shining in the room. You looked up and smiled at him when he entered. He got under the covers with you and handed you your water bottle. You opened it and took a few sips ‘thanks’ you said. You put the book back on his nightstand and turned of the light. Loki couldn’t hold it in anymore. When you laid back down he immediately grabbed you, pulling you as close as he could. Fearing that if he let go right now, you would somehow vanish. ‘Loki? You alright?’ you whispered. He nuzzled his head against your chest and did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He cried.  

Tags: @delightfulheartdream​ @the-best-phineas​

[cazzyvintage]

Dancing the night away

Synopsis: You accomply Zemo to a ball yet you feel like you don’t truly belong there and you still compare yourself to Zemo’s ex wife but Zemo comforts you and assures you he loves you

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, all the fluff, plus very spicy end scene not 18+ but hella close

Word count: 2k

Authors note: As I promised a fluff one shot after the last one. We all need more loving Zemo in our lives. Also I just wanted to say that I love and appreciate every single one of you who likes and comments on my one shots. I used to write fanfiction on sites like Quotev and Wattpad and they never really got any attention which was quite down heartening to someone who wants to carry on writing for their career so all the love you have been showing to my Zemo one shots mean the world to me. Thank you all so much.

Once again Zemo had outdone himself. Buying you the most expensive dress in the shop, lavishing you with jewelry and make-up. Looking into the mirror even you could admit how stunning you appeared. You were wearing a tight-fitting emerald green dress that flurried out at the bottom in a swirl. The front of it cut down into a low v shape showing off the sides of your breasts.

You looked like how every little girl had always wanted to look like yet you couldn’t help but wonder...was this you?

You had never imagined you would be someone who would have a lot of money or meet someone who owned money. Let alone a Baron. It had happened so suddenly and you were swept up in a daze. It felt unreal, like every time you fall asleep you expect to wake back up in your old bed in your apartment. The truth was, deep down you felt like you didn’t deserve this.

You jumped as you felt hands wrap around your waist. Resting upon your stomach and pulling you in towards their chest.

“You look like the goddess Venus” Zemo whispers as he leans his head on your neck drinking in the scent of your perfume.

“If I hadn’t already promised the president I’d be there I would say screw this dance and take you right here”

“Zemo!” you gasp, your face instantly truing bright red at such a bold remark. You two had never gone that far in your relationship yet. You needed time to be ready before you ever went that far. Zemo respected that choice though he loved to tease you like that.

He chuckles, kissing your neck briefly then pulling back to admire himself in the mirror. “We will be the best looking couple there darling”

“You think so?”

Though his mouth was still turned into a smile he turned to you serious, “I know so y/n”

You break out into a big smile making Zemo smile flashing his teeth as well. He pulls you into a soft kiss, his hands gently holding onto you.

Following Zemo, he leads you to his car and a little while later you arrive at the ball. It felt like there were thousands of people there and they were all staring at you.

Zemo loved the attention. He politely smiled at everyone and greeted his friends there, introducing you to them.

You tried to make polite conversation but you had always been rather awkward. You didn’t know what you could say to people like them but Zemo made up for it by talking for you.

It felt like hours of you walking arm in arm with Zemo till he finally led you to the dance floor.

One hand on your waist and one holding yours, you two started to waltz to the music. Zemo started intently at you. His eyes sparkling in joy just to be in your presence while your face seemed to be in a permanent state of blushing.

“Have I told you just how much I adore your blush?” Zemo asks

You slightly chuckle still looking away, “Everyday” you breathed

“And I will continue telling you every day till you believe it”

“...Zemo”

“Darling, look at me” he whispers

Slowly you manage to drag your eyes off the floor and up into his warm chocolate ones. His grip on your hand tightens as he smiles warmly at you. “Words can not describe how stunning you are y/n. Poets would weep with joy just to be in your presence, even the stars would blow down to your light”

“I love you so much Zemo” you whisper

“I love you too”

You two continue to dance for the rest of the song till the music stops. You excuse yourself to step outside for a few moments.

Though Zemo loved to tell you how much he loved you, there was always a part of you that seemed to always doubt him. You were someone so common compared to him. Compared to his ex. He hardly spoke about her. You knew they were married with a child but they were both killed and it hurt him deeply. One day you snuck into his office and found a picture of her. She was so beautiful, so different to you.

“I hate seeing you looking so down darling” you hear Zemo say as he follows you outside. He stands behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder.

“I’m fine” you try to reply but Zemo shakes his head, “I know you y/n, I know you are upset by something. I want to help you with whatever is lying heavily on your soul but I can’t unless you tell me”

You don’t say anything for a moment, you just breathe in and out trying to calm your nerves. Zemo pulls back from you. He turns you around and picks up your hands in his. He brings them up and kisses them gently.

Finally, you gather up the courage to just let it all go, to just say everything that had been bothering you.

“I don’t feel like I fit in here Zemo! Before I met you I was just an average person. Someone everyone here would look down on. Part of me still finds it hard to believe you even like me. Why would someone like you, a Baron, who could have any supermodel settle for someone like me. It doesn’t make sense. I feel so outcast here and I can’t help but think about your ex-wife. She was so beautiful, I saw that picture in your office of her. I know she is prettier than me and I just can’t understand why you would choose me after being with someone like her. I just don’t understand why you choose me Zemo!” you cried, letting the tears freshly leave your eyes.

Zemo looked shocked as you spoke but his facial expression soon turned to one of sadness. He raised his hands to your face, placing it on your side, and with his thumb, he brushed the tears away.

“Oh, y/n…” he whimpered as he struggled for a moment to find the right words.

With his other arm, he wraps it around your side and pulls you close to him till you could feel his breath on yours. His eyes stare intently into yours as he speaks,

“When I saw you in that restaurant a year ago, I was awestruck. My life had turned to shit. I’d lost everything and it felt like I was drowning in the waves of pain but when I saw you it was like the angels had blessed me. What drew me to you most though was your eyes. In the sun they shone, darling, tantalizing, drawing me in deep and under. I just had to talk to you. Other women may be pretty. Perhaps. But you darling. You look like the gods came down and painted you with the best colours in existence. Everything I say to you I mean and I want you to believe it. I would do anything just so you could see yourself the way I see you. I understand how you feel about my wife. It was my fault, not talking about her to you but the way I love you isn’t the same way I loved her. I always felt like I was forced to be in love with her like it was the right thing to do. Everyone told me I would be an idiot not to pursue her so I did. Yes, I liked her but I never felt connected to her. But you darling, I would throw everything away for you. I don’t care what anyone else says because I love you. I treasure you. Just looking at you makes my heart race still and my body feel warm. I want to hold you, touch you, taste you but at the same time, I’m scared I would taint you. That you were too beautiful, too innocent for the likes of me.” Zemo declares, never taking eyes off you.

Through his words you feel yourself melting. A warmness takes over you as your heart too nervously flutters. You place your hand over his chest and you can feel his heart quickly beating, almost in time to yours. He looks at you, his eyes wide, lips slightly parted as he desperately waits for your words.

“You mean the world to me Zemo, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you and never will. I could never come close to your way with words but...thank you. For saying that. It...it means so much to me to hear that. I’m still going to occasionally have doubts. I’m afraid that’s the way I am and I don’t think that will ever change but I’m not leaving you Zemo. Never”

Zemo wraps his arms around you bringing you into a hug as you rest on his chest, encompassed in his warmth. “I will be there every moment of every day to help you through your doubts”

Eventually, you pull back to look at him, at his lips. You were so drawn to him at that moment. You two were so close it was intoxicating. Pushing forward, you closed your eyes to kiss him. Zemo’s eyes fluttered shut as well and he raised his hands to wrap in your hair. They got tangled in them and he slightly tugged making you moan.

You both freeze as your blush comes back but you pushed past your embarrassment, kissing Zemo harder. Your core started to warm and this time you weren’t going to run away from your desire. You part your lips slightly and Zemo takes that invitation to explore your mouth with his tongue. You push into his further, wanting to feel his body against yours. This caused him to take a few steps back till he hit a wall. You moved your body slightly up and down his as you two kissed. He pulled back, out of breath as he gazed in wonder at you.

“Am I okay to go further?”

“Yes” you gasp, “Zemo I…” you knew it now, you knew you were ready, “Zemo I want you”

His teeth flash as he smiled at you before he lowered his face to your neck, sucking on a section. His hands also lowered down your back till they grabbed your ass. It elicits more moans out of you as his teeth graze your skin. His mouth wanders all over you like he was attempting to kiss every inch of you. As he moved his head lower you tangled your hands in his soft hair, tugging it slightly which made him groan.

When he reaches your chest area he grabs the back of your legs lifting you. You wrap both your arms and legs around him as he walks you over to a table and lays you down on it. You continue to hold onto him so that his body was between your tights and his chest was pressed against yours.

While everyone danced inside you and Zemo lost yourself to the pleasure outside.

[dreamerstreamer]

Office Lunch

Pairing: Quackity / Alexis x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Being vice president is far from an easy job, and it’s starting to take a toll on Quackity. Thankfully, you’re always there to pick him back up, again.

Warnings: some cursing, minor mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: requested by the lovely 🐌 anon, who wanted some reverse comfort & fluff for big q! the story takes place during schlatt’s presidency, and also serves as a bit of a character study. i hope you enjoy!

The quiet ticking of the clock felt absolutely deafening in the barren silence of the office. You fidgeted your feet, your thumbs nervously tapping at the throw pillow at your side. Despite how plush and comfortable the couch cushions were beneath your thighs, they felt as stiff as rock digging into your skin. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you sat up straight, your eyes glued to the clock as you stared down the taunting, ticking hands.

Were presidential meetings always this long? You were no professional, but employees still had a lunch break, right?

Sighing, you tore your eyes away from the clock on the walls, sweeping your gaze across the office. A tall window decorated the wall opposite from the looming mahogany door, the warm, midday sun washing the room with light. The bookshelf tucked away in the corner of the room was adorned with shelves upon shelves of files, alongside a framed photo of the Manberg flag. On the floor sat a deep crimson rug, the golden tassels brushing along the soles of your shoes.

It was a beautiful office, really. But it looked so much more dull when it was as empty as it was.

Your gaze flickered down to the container sitting on the coffee table in front of you, your lips curling into the smallest of frowns. So much for giving him a surpris—

All of a sudden, the office door swung open, slamming into the opposite wall with a loud thud. Jolting, you whipped your head up, your eyes landing on the huffing figure standing in the doorway. You watched as Quackity stomped across the room to his desk, his gaze stormy as his grip tightened around the already crumpled stack of files in his hand. He was practically seething as he dropped the stack of papers onto his desk, cursing loudly under his breath.

“What an ass,” he muttered, irritation lacing his every word. Reaching up, he tugged at his navy tie, the tight fabric unravelling around his neck. “Always keeping me late because he can't be bothered to show up on time.” His scowl deepened. “That lazy piece of sh—”

“Alex?”

Quackity froze at the sound of your voice, whirling around to face you with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. “[Y/N]?” he whispered.

You lifted your hand in a shy wave, offering him a sheepish smile. “Hi.”

His lips split into a wide grin as he strode over to you, crouching down next to you. “What are you doing here?” he breathed, his bright eyes scanning yours. “Don't get me wrong, I'm always happy to see your beautiful face, but you're here.” He gestured vaguely to the space around him, his eyebrows knitted together. “In my office.”

Heat crept across your face at his words, something fuzzy and warm blossoming in the crevice of your chest. Bobbing your head, you reached across the coffee table to hold up the container you had brought with you, a glimmer of hope flitting through your eyes. “Yeah! I, um, wanted to surprise you today, so I brought you lunch!”

Quackity blinked at you once. Twice. Then, he opened his mouth, an enamoured expression creeping onto his face. “[Y/N],” he said, gentle and soft, “have I ever told you how incredible you are?”

Your heart flipped in your chest, joy sparking in your chest like a firework as you shot him a cheeky grin, winking slyly. "You could stand to mention it more often."

He laughed at that, getting to his feet before settling into the space next to you on the couch, his side warm against yours. Leaning over, he rested his head against your shoulder, letting out a long sigh of relief.

“God,” he sighed, the tightness trickling out from his body as he melted against you, “I can't even begin to describe how happy I am you're here.” He glanced up at you curiously. “What did you make?”

You grinned, your fingers curling around the container lid. “I figured you would want something easy to hold that was still tasty, so...” The lid tugged open with a pop, revealing an array of sandwiches stacked next to one another, stuffed full with vegetables and spreads. “Ta-da!”

Quackity gasped, sitting upright to gape at the lunch you had made, elation shooting across his face. “Are you an angel?” he blurted, his mouth practically watering at the sight. “You must be a fucking angel, I swear.”

A giggle bubbled up in your throat, warmth fluttering in the pit of your stomach. “Last time I checked,” you hummed, gently nudging his shoulder with yours, “I was just the love of your life, but angel works, too.”

Quackity's eyes gleamed fondly, but you didn't miss the way his fingers twitched in anticipation. Tilting the container toward him, you smiled, amusement seeping into your voice. “Yes, you can eat.”

His eyes lit up like the sun, and you could only laugh as a “thank you” tumbled from his lips before he was grabbing a sandwich. As his teeth sank in for the first bite, his eyes fluttered shut and he made a pleased noise. In an instant, he was absolutely devouring the sandwich, his cheeks puffed with delight.

“This,” he said between bites, “is so good.” Swallowing the final bite, he reached over for a second, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips. “I don't think I would mind eating this for the rest of my life.”

You flashed him a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Leaning back against the soft cushions, you lifted a sandwich to your mouth, savouring the burst of flavour across your tongue as you took a bite. “By the way,” you said before you took another bite, casting a curious glance in Quackity’s direction, “how’s your day been so far? I missed you.”

In an instant, Quackity’s eyes went dark, the smile falling from his face as he let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Schlatt,” he said.

You swallowed, raising your brows at him. “Schlatt?” you repeated.

He deadpanned. “Is the fucking worst.”

You winced at the exhausted look that flitted across his face, setting your sandwich down on the container lid. “So, I take it your morning went badly.”

The groan that escaped his lips was absolutely gut-wrenching, frustration soaking into his every movement as he got to his feet, pacing around the room. “Like you wouldn’t believe. He cancelled two meetings—the first because he was hungover, and the second because he wanted to drink. Then,” he said, whirling on his feet with a glower, “when he did actually schedule a meeting, he was late.” He threw his hands up into the air. “Like, what the hell?”

Your heart churned in your chest at the sight of his irritated face, the bitterness in his tone winding rising higher and higher, filling the air like a dam that was about to burst. “Plus, he still hasn’t read the report I submitted last week, and also he interrupted me six times today.” He held up six fingers toward you, a deep scowl etched into his features. “Six! That’s seven times too many.”

You had half the mind to laugh at his words, but the sorrow you felt outweighed the flicker of amusement that shot through you. “And did I tell you that he made me make him coffee this morning?” He groaned again, his hands tightening into fists at his side as he collapsed back onto the couch, draping his arm over his eyes. “Sometimes,” he grumbled, “I feel less like a vice president and more like an unpaid intern.”

You shuffled closer to him on the couch, reaching your hand up to gently stroke his back. “I’m sorry that’s happening, baby,” your murmured, rubbing a soft, soothing circle around the base of his neck with your thumb. “Schlatt sounds like an awful boss.”

He whipped around to face you, a grimace stretched taught across his face. “He is!” he cried. “He’s such a fucking... dick! There are so many things I could say.” He lifted a hand, counting off on his fingers. “He constantly misses meetings, he’s always goofing off, and he’s always fucking drunk. It’s like he doesn’t even care about this country.” He sighed, dragging his hand over his face. “Like, why run for president if you’re not going to at least try to make a difference?”

Suddenly, he went quiet, his hand freezing around his chin. You watched as a cloudy fog passed over his gaze, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “God, am I making a difference?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he turned to look at you, his heart hanging heavy in his lungs as you watched the gears turn in his head. “What have I done?” he whispered, his brows sloping downward. “I’m just helping push Schlatt’s agenda, whatever that is.”

He dropped his head, resting his elbows on his knees as he hung his face in his hands. “Why did I even support him in the election in the first place?” His voice cracked, and you felt your own heart cleave at the sound. “Seriously, just what the hell am I doing?”

A long, thick silence fell over the two of you, Quackity raised his head, turning to face you with a cloudy, broken gaze. “Maybe I’m just as bad as he is.”

The words were out of your mouth in an instant, a wave of protectiveness crashing over you and filling every inch of your being. “Don’t say that.”

He gazed at you sadly, regret flickering across his face. “But, aren’t I—”

“No,” you said, firmer this time, “you’re not.” When Quackity’s eyes went wide at your sudden shift in tone, your gaze softened, adding gently, “I swear.”

Pulling your hand away from his back, you let your eyes scan his doubtful expression, your lips pressed into a thin line. “People like having power, Alex. Physical power, bargaining power, political power—” You shook your head with a sigh, disappointment tugging at the back of your mind. “It can be obsessive, and a lot of the time, that power’s misused.” You sent him a knowing look, brows raised. “You would know.”

His lips twitched the tiniest bit, and he bobbed his head, almost as if there were a set of weights on his shoulders. “Yeah, I really fucking do.”

“But,” you hummed, a smile tugging at your lips, “it’s not always misused.” You leaned against him, your soft side pressing into his. “Look at you—you’re trying your hardest to make this country a better place, and that’s amazing.”

You felt him shake next to you, the fabric of his suit trembling against you. “But,” he said quietly, sounding so very unlike the bold, confident man you loved, “I’ve hardly been able to do anything.” He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a weary, ragged breath. “Everything I try to do just gets shut down, or pushed aside, or it’s not even looked at.”

You reached over, slipping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers together. “That doesn’t demean your hard work and effort, though,” you said softly. “I’ve watched you work overtime so many days in a row, and you’re always spending late nights at the office to pick up Schlatt’s slack.”

Your lips curled into a smile, genuine and fond. “You’re wonderful, Alex, and Schlatt is lucky to have you. You’re a wonderful vice president, and an ever better person.” Your eyes curved into soft, crescent moons. “Don’t put yourself down like that, okay?”

Quackity stared at you for a moment longer, then lowered his gaze to your connected hands, the light in his eyes flickering. “Even if you’re right,” he said quietly, “Schlatt’s still the one in power. He’s the one with the most control.”

You scooted a fraction closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “The thing about power is that one person hardly ever gets to keep it to themselves forever.” You reached your other hand up, pressing your palm to his cheek, his skin warm against yours. “Schlatt may be president now, but a new term will come soon, and he’ll be voted out, I’m sure of it. And when that happens, you guys will be able to turn a new leaf.”

You brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. “I believe in you.”

Another silence fell over you, but this one was different—it wasn’t tense or heavy like the last, weighing down on you like an anchor. Instead, a certain brightened bloomed across the room, and you watched with kind eyes as Quackity lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a serious expression.

“I love you.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, heat exploding across your face as your chest shook with a hazy whirlwind of emotion. “Wh—huh?” you spluttered, your face growing hotter by the second. “I-I love you too, but where did that come from?”

His hand squeezed tightly around yours, an ardent spark of affection springing inside him. “My heart,” he said honestly.

You couldn’t stop the smile from splitting across your lips, wide and bright. You opened your mouth to respond when, without warning, he was tugging you forward until you were pressed flush against his chest. Wrapping his arms around your waist in a tight embrace, he dipped his head down next to your ear and murmured, “Thank you, [Y/N].”

You blinked for a moment, then melted against him, resting your head on his shoulder as you snaked your arms up and around his backside. “For you, anything.”

For a long moment, the two of you simply held each other, nestled closely within each other’s arms. You let your eyelids fall shut as you brushed your nose against the side of his neck, inhaling his lingering scent of linen and lemon.

After a few minutes, you felt his breath tickle your cheek as he opened his mouth. “Hey, what time is it?”

You opened your eyes, your gaze darting to the clock on the wall behind him and squinting. “Um, quarter past one.”

Quackity’s eyes shot open to the size of saucers, and in a flash, he was scrambling off the couch, stumbling across his office to his desk. “Oh shit, I’m late for my next meeting!”

Your eyes widened as he quickly picked up a new stack of papers from his desk, grabbing a pen from his cup holder before slipping it behind his ear. While he balanced the mess of office supplies in his arms, striding back over to you, a flurry of swords tumbled from his mouth. “The sandwiches were fantastic, everything you said means the world to me, you’re beautiful, and I love you so fucking much.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, love rushing through your veins as you struggled to process his words. “I—”

All of a sudden, he leaned over the coffee table and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, pulling away just as quickly as he had arrived. “See you when I get home?” he said, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

Your head spun with dizzying waves of adoration, and you felt your own face grow warm with affection as you nodded hazily, offering him a wave. “See you then.”

The grin he flashed you made your stomach soar with butterflies, and in a whirlwind of papers, he was rushing out the door, his undone tie still hanging around his neck. The office door slammed shut behind him, and just like that, you were alone again, accompanied only by the ticking of the clock.

You let out a breath and pressed a shaky hand to your chest, feeling your heart thump against your rib cage. Sitting up, your eyes dropped down to your half-eaten sandwich still sitting on the coffee table. An image of Quackity flashed across your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel your lungs blossom with something that you were absolutely certain was love.

With warm sunlight caressing the side of your face, you picked up your sandwich and took another bite, a thoughtful smile gracing your lips.

Maybe you should bring him lunch tomorrow, too.

[quietmyfearswith]

suitkovia ; baron zemo x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

warnings — SMUT SO MINORS GO AWAY, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), cursing, cheek and clit slapping, groping(ish)

word count — 3,457 words

pairing — fashion designer!helmut zemo x model!reader

a/n —zemo is such a fucking hot daddy and daniel bruhl is just as hot — and what was i gonna do?? not write about it??? psh no way! also blame the suitkovia video because he was so fucking hot andgoofy there.. enjoy this self-indulgent fic! also idk if you can be a baron and a fashion designer but let’s pretend that that’s possible okay? feedback is appreciated and hope u guys have a lovely day !! :> 

also the ones in italics are in sokovian, i just didnt want to translate it into something lmao

tagging @art-estrange

masterlist 

“Sir, your newest model has arrived,” Oeznik informed with a smile; and just as he announced it, the mentioned woman walked in and into the line of sight of the famous Sokovian designer.

Putting down the now empty glass of whiskey he earlier downed, he stood up and approached her, “Hello Y/N,” He huskily greeted her as his hands gently landed on her arms which allowed him to lean over and plant tender kisses on both her cheeks, “I am eternally grateful for your endorsement and modelling of our line of clothes.”

The kiss caught her off guard — but in a pleasant way — and she could only smile coyly, “If anything it is my pleasure to be able to wear your masterpiece of garments, Baron; I’m honoured that you thought of me.”

Releasing his grip from her he then held out a hand for her to take, once she did she was being led in front of the racks of clothes that were lined up — waiting for her to be worn. “Did you want a drink? Perhaps a Turkish delight?”

Eyeing the coffee table where a small platter of sweets and food lay along with some refreshments, she shook her head no and politely declined. “You can leave us now, Oeznik. And we are not to be disturbed, yes?”

“Of course, Sir.”

When the two men spoke in Sokovian, it made her quite uneasy but when she watched the designer run his hands along the fabric of the gowns that were hung, she thought that he was talking about one of the dresses. The wooden doors noisily shut behind her as the assistant left the two of the alone in the room.

“Thank you, again, for coming in here a day earlier than the arranged photoshoot,” He grabbed a gown off the rack and carefully carried it in front of her. “Of course, I understand that it was necessary to ensure that the clothes would fit me well.”

Nodding, he then handed her the silk tulle gown with a smile, “May you try this on first?” Taking the soft gown from him she silently complied and headed to the dressing room he pointed at.

While waiting for her to get changed, he sat down and poured himself another glass of whiskey. Perhaps it was due to her training or attributable to her various ramp model gigs, she quickly changed into the gown; there was one setback however, there was a zipper on the back that was too far for her to reach.

Walking out of the dressing room, she cleared her throat — effectively catching the attention of the Sokovian designer, “Baron? I need some help with the zipper.” She turned around and his breath was hitched in his throat as he saw how beautiful she looked.

“Of course I can help, darling,” He snapped out of his adoring gaze and stood up quickly to zip up the dress. Feeling the pad of his fingers along her skin resulted in both of them feeling a rush of electricity run through. “All done, love.”

It was comical how the fabric whirled around in slow motion as she twirled around to face him; he took a few steps back to admire her fully, “You look exactly like the goddess Persephone, darling.”

Walking in front of the the full length mirror that was placed in the far back part of the room, she observed herself in the eloquently-designed gown and smiled, “The gown looks like something straight out of a fairytale; and it fits me well,” She faced him as she remembered the last part of his statement, “Persephone? Is that your inspiration for this new line?”

Finishing off the remaining liquor he had poured out before nodding and explaining, “The recent books that I’ve been reading are about the Greek gods and goddesses.” He then stood behind her and gently touched her waist, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, “And Persephone stood out to me the most.”

“Not Aphrodite? Is she not the most beautiful goddess in Mount Olympus?”

“Touche,” He smirked and removed his hands from her sides and went back to the racks and fetched the blue, floral gown that was the first design he made for his most current collection, “But the Olympian beauty wasn’t my focus on all, for I was far too intrigued with Persephone.”

A pout formed her lips as she was confused with his reasoning, “Change into this one first then I can answer the questions you have,” He assured her as if he could read her mind.

Thankfully the second gown that was handed for her to try on was easier for her to zip up; but at the same time she was dismayed at the realization that she wouldn’t be able to feel his hot touch on her skin. Upon stepping out of the velvet dressing room, she announced, “I think this is my favorite gown by far. This really makes me feel like a goddess.”

“To be fair, princess, with or without the clothes you would be crowned a goddess.”

The blunt comment had her biting her lip as she felt undeserving of his praise; standing next to him in front of the mirror, she shook her head and replied, “Well I’m not Greek so your argument is invalid, Baron.”

Once again, his hands roamed around her body — but this time his hands settled on her bare shoulders, “Not all goddesses are Greek; there are Nordic, Celtic, Indian — to name a few.” Looking to her right, where he had rested his chin while his hooded eyes took in every inch of her, she gulped down, “Cultured and intelligent all on top of having a great eye and sense of fashion — is there something you’re lacking?”

“Just my Persephone,” He muttered after placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. That piqued her interest, she created some distance between the two of them but she laced her hands with his as she smirked, “You think of yourself as Hades?”

“In a way, I do,” He disconnected himself from her and was skimming through the different dresses he had planned for here to wear, “Are you the king of the underworld?” From her tone it was obvious that she was slightly teasing him, but he decided to give her a serious answer either way.

“Despite how magnificent that would be, I am not,” His eyebrows lifted up in excitement as he picked one of the next gowns that Y/N would try on, “But I do admire his passion; he and I share that same thing, you know?”

Handing it over to her, she got the signal that it was her next frock she was to try on; silently, she nodded and took the dress and headed to the dressing room. As she slid on the crepe gown, she then nodded to herself and smiled.

A low whistle was heard when she stepped out in front of the mirror, with a smile Zemo’s fingers danced around her neck as he fastened the cape in its place, “Now you look like something carved out of marble.”

Trailing down from her neck, his hands settled themselves on top of her breasts, “Is the neckline too much?” Her chest heaved up in anticipation as she shook her head no, “I don’t think it is, Baron.”

Smiling, he nodded and placed a kiss on the intersection of her neck and shoulders, “I’m delighted you feel so, darling. I feel like you have questions regarding my earlier statement.” Her small nod encouraged the designer to explain further, “Hades is often dismissed for he is the king of the dead. But, if anything, I think it is his passion for Persephone that he should be known for.”

“Oh?” Was the only word that escaped her with a shaky breath; a simple kiss in her skin had reduced her brain into a puddle, but the simple word spurred him to continue, “After finding the woman of his dreams, he did everything in his power to keep her in his arms.” His hands then slid down from her breasts and to her waist, pushing her body closer to his. Taking in her heavenly scent, he smiled upon feeling goosebumps against the skin of her shoulder where his lips were.

“Have you found your Persephone then?”

“I have now,” He gruffly spun her around and latched his lips on hers; she quickly welcomed his soft lips as she opened her mouth and moaned out as  his hands nestled themselves on her ass, occasionally squeezing her cheeks. Her hands ran along his bearded cheeks and pushed him closer to her.

She whimpered when he tore off the cloak hastily and sucked on her neck, “You’re so fucking beautiful, darling.” As soon as he unzipped her dress she automatically shrugged it off her shoulders, exposing how she didn’t wear any kind of underwear underneath it. Amused, Zemo smirked as he ran his hand along her stomach, “Do you always go about without any kind of underwear?”

“No, not really,” She denied, “It’s easier to slip in between dresses without underwear holding me back.” Holding onto her waist he then carried her to lay on her back on the velvet couch, “Well that just makes it easier for me to please my goddess.”

He dipped down and licked her clit with his thick, wide tongue; and with just one lick of his tongue she was placing her legs on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. “Fuck, more please,” Hearing her moan out for her, egged him to shove his tongue in her tight canal as he swirled around and tasted her sweet juices.

“What got you this wet, my little goddess?” It was a rhetorical question — which was a good thing for she was so deep in pleasure that she couldn’t process anything in her pleasure-riddled brain. His thumb rubbed her clit vigorously while his other hand inched upward and grabbed onto her nipple, twisting and pulling on it.

“Were you this eager to be fucked, darling?” The vibrations of the filthy words had her locking her legs behind his neck,  further nudging his tongue deeper into her pussy. A loud whine erupted from her mouth when he pulled his face away, “Does that disappoint you, love?”

“Please, Baron. I need you,” She moaned out, her eyes blinking as tears of pleasure threatened to spill out. Wordlessly, he slid two of his fingers in her pussy and lowered his mouth so he could lick her clit. He didn���t break eye contact with her as she watched him lap her juices while his fingers were being squeezed by her damp walls.

“Is this what you needed, darling? Wanted my fingers?” She nodded as tangled her hand into his har, “Fuck! How am I going to fit my cock when you are already struggling to take my fingers.”

Her chest was heaving up and down in pleasure as she thrashed around, “Want you, want you so bad.” Her declaration had his chest rumbling with pride as he pulled his fingers away and kissed her hardened nub one last time.

“Is that so? Can you take all of me inside you then?” He lifted his face right in front of hers, she moved to slant their lips together. Dribbling down from his mouth to hers, she got a faint taste of her juices; and in the model’s opinion, it tasted better when it was mixed with his saliva.

“Want to please you first baron,” She clawed at the ends of his sweater, hands loving the feel of his warm back, “Can I taste you first?” The way she pleaded for him had him smirking at the realization that she was just as desperate for him as he was for her. Giving his consent silently, he helped lift off the cashmere sweater he was wearing and toss it on the foot. Switching both their sides so he lay under her posed as a challenge for her kisses went south — from peppering kisses on his beard, she lowered them until her cold mouth met the wide expanse of his chest.

“You really have a way,” He paused his train of thought as her lips gave his nipple a gentle tug; his eyes darkened with desire as he watched her give the opposite nipple the same treatment before kissing her way down his stomach, “With that precious tongue of yours, darling.”

The way her eyes peered up at him innocently contradicted the way her hands expertly unbuckled his pants; and once his pants, along with his underwear, was being moved off of him she licked her lips in anticipation. One hand stroked the entirety of his length while the other rested on his thigh, anchoring herself.

As if to test the waters, she placed kitten licks on the tip of his cock, “Fucking hell, darling,” The designer moaned out once she lowered herself and allowed her mouth to enclose around half of his cock. The way his cock poked around the inside of her mouth was a delightful intrusion for her; soon enough the tip of his cock was poking the back of her throat.

His short nails were digging themselves against her hair as his chest rumbled in pleasure, “You got me so close, love. Want to have a taste of Sokovia?” The chuckle he let out quickly died down when she fondled his balls with one hand as she shook her head a bit as she deepthroated him long enough until she gagged a bit.

It wasn’t long before he spilled all over her mouth,  “Fuck, darling,” He moaned out as she milked him. Easing his grip on her head, he smiled upon seeing her lick her lips and open her mouth — showing him how he swallowed every single drop of his cum.

“You taste delicious, Baron,” She said with a smile as she rose up from where she was kneeling and moved to sit on his lap, “Can I please ride you?” Her meek petition had him even harder. Wordlessly, he snaked an arm in his cock, tapping it against her pussy before sliding it in her; in one motion he was already halfway inside her.

“Already so wet for me, darling,” Helmut moaned out when he lifted her by the asscheeks, leaving only his tip inside her; her nails were leaving marks on his shoulders as she mewled out, “Please fuck me, Baron.” Just as she spoke the final syllable, he then rammed his cock all the  way in her, causing her to lurch forward, pressing her chest against his. It gave him leverage to fuck her fiercely yet slowly, as if savoring every moment inside her.

With her mouth pressed against his ear, she was moaning out loud for him which sounded like music to the designer’s ears; whereas his mouth was focused on leaving marks of his desire on her shoulder. “Been wanting you for a while, love,” The Baron rasped out as his thrusts sped up when he felt her walls squeezing onto his thickness even more, “Saw you walk down the ramp at Milan and I just knew,” He groaned mid sentence when she moved away from him and leaned down to kiss him tenderly — a juxtaposition from where his cock was now mercilessly and swiftly entering her tight canal, “Just knew I had to have you.”

The declaration of his admiration had her feeling oddly more confident in herself, “Am I like everything you ever wanted, Baron?” He rapidly nodded before moving his head away to get a good look of her — she was biting her lip, yet it couldn’t contain her delicious whimpers from reaching his ears, whereas with every bounce she made resulted in her breasts hypnotizingly moving along. Enclosing a nipple in his mouth, he pulled on it hard enough for her to rake her hands in his hair and shove him harder against her hardened nub.

“I’m so close, Baron,” She moaned out at the absence of his mouth, but was quickly satisfied when he took on the other nipple. Even without her verbal forewarning, he would have known that with the way it was getting more difficult for his cock to slide in and out of her clenched, wet walls. “Are you gonna claim my cock as yours, darling?”

Feeling the presence of his cock surpass her sweet spot and hit her cervix was too much for her as she weakly nodded, “Want you so bad,” She moaned out as she was starting to feel overwhelmed. The designer could feel his own cock pulse upon seeing her current state; he unwillingly removed his mouth from her now swollen nipples — much to both of their dismay — yet he tried to make up for it by lowering a hand to the front of her pussy, alternating between rubbing and pinching her clit. “I want you to cum for me, love,” He rasped out as his other hand was on her cheek, urging him to focus on him. “Your juices should be running down on my cock, okay?”

Slightly turning her head, she sucked on his thumb as she continued to rock herself harder on his cock — the thought of an impending orgasm sounding wonderful. A gasp escaped her lips when the Baron slapped both her cheek and clit when he did not receive affirmation from her, “I need your answer, darling, will you cum for me like the good girl I know you can be?”

Whether it was her desire to be his or the fact that she just didn’t want that added stimulation, she nodded her head vigorously as she indistinctly muttered, “Gonna cum for you, Baron. Want your cock all for myself.”

Pleased with her response, he then drove his cock in her deeper and harder while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her lips were quivering right under his thumb was tucked in safely. With one particular harsh thrust, she came and bit on his thumb too hard; despite feeling a sharp pain, Zemo smirked and continued to ram his cock in and out of her as he too was on the brink of another orgasm.

As she was placing kitten lick on his thumb as an attempt to calm herself down, she allowed him to take control; it was incredible how much strength he had because with one hand latched on her hips, he was matching the way her body rose and fall matched the pace in which he was fucking her. “I’m never gonna let you go now, darling. You’re all mine now.”

Delighted with that, she removed his thumb in her mouth and looked at him — fondness and lust portrayed through her eyes — and said, “Cum in me, Baron.” As if her words set off a trigger, he came load after load of his cum, painting her walls as his. Panting heavily as he pressed his forehead against hers, taking in the glow that encompassed her entire body.

Lovingly stroking both her cheeks they both smiled at each other; she spoke up first, “I hope you don’t always sleep with your models.” Despite the overwhelming pleasure she had just experienced, she couldn't prevent her from feeling insecure about the repercussions of their little rendezvous. The hairs at the nape of his neck was something she distracted herself with since she was too nervous for his response; tilting her head to get her to meet him eye to eye so he could reassure her, “No, my love, I don’t make it a habit to go and sleep around. Truth be told, from now on I only plan on sleeping with you.”

His line had her chuckling and lightly shoving his shoulder, still in disbelief with the words that left his mouth. “You’re my Persephone, the one I have been searching for; and I have no plans of letting you go,” He spoke and looked at her wholeheartedly and genuinely, hoping that he would solidify his claim and hopefully get her to believe him.

As her lip quivered and eyes watered, she hugged him close and showered every inch of skin of his that she could reach with kisses, “You don’t know how much that means to me, Baron. I, too, would not do the foolish thing of letting you go, ever.”

It was only then that the designer knew what true happiness was as he rubbed her back gently, pushing her body even more closer to him, “You’re with me now, darling, for life. I’ll treat you like the goddess that you are.”

[namjoonchronicles]

impression | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship

↳ words 5.5k

↳ summary many forgot that when you marry someone, you marry their family too, at least that’s how Asian family is like

↳ warning that side of adulthood, lockdown because of pandemic, self-worth, over-sensitivity, pisces dude, married life conflicts

↳ song ariana grande ‘pov’ 

Just this morning you woke him up with ‘Daechwita’ blasting on his ear drums, dancing and prancing around the home gym in your spandex bra and sweatpants, rapping to every word he wrote, with more swag than ten Yoongis combined. Forehead glistened with sweat, rosy cheeks and more life in you than he ever had. He leaned by the door sill just watching in utter disbelief and renewed admiration to just how much you loved his music. It never gets old. But how the tables have turned, two minutes before midnight.

You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom, him leaning his back on the wall, speaking through the closed door, calling out for you.

“Talk to me. Please… Say something. Anything,” he puts his lips inches away from the door, covering his hand over his mouth to direct the sound towards you, hoping it would get through. Fat chance, but at least he tried.

Must be something in his drink last night for him to hear his own song even when he is sleeping, Yoongi thought. But he didn't drink last night? Yoongi pulled the duvet down his head, contorting his entire face and the blaring boom bass music, rippling through the miniature figure standees of famous baseball players he had lined up on the TV cabinet. The music was so loud, the pictures hung on the walls began rattling at each beat drop. Where is this music coming from??

Two seconds in, and the empty spot next to him spoke volumes. All answers were as clear as day.

Yoongi sat up on the bed, duvets pooled around his waist as he yawns loudly and his bed hair flopping on either side leans towards, some baby strands standing in all directions. He scratches his arms, neck and belly as he comes awake. Face puffy, eyes barely open, and cheeks as circle as they could be. He gathered the duvet to the side and pushed himself off to the edge of the bed while shoving his feet into his indoor slippers. He tried to fetch his phone from the bedside table and saw it vibrating on its own from the loud music.

"Better stop her before the neighbours come complaining…"

He waddles about the room lazily, dragging his feet, his arm reaching for the switch panel before he even arrives to have the curtain open and let the sun in. The automated curtain aligned and folded creases perfectly as it gathered itself to each designated side. The bed, the bed will be made up later after he advises his wife not to deafen the whole neighborhood with his albums and he could finally think.

The teal-colored walls that extended along the hallway of the house, decorated with wedding pictures, family pictures, his signed baseball jerseys, picture of his basketball days (the one he jumps for a slam dunk and especially proud of, you know the one), your graduation picture (with him professionally photoshopped in) and some lovely polaroids of your first unofficial date that he insists was official. More on that later. Yoongi walks pass this memory lane with a stern face, shooting glares ahead, marching in the direction of the music, which seems to be coming from the gym. What he saw was a petite figure, all hyped up, sweaty, holding up a water bottle to your lips like a microphone, mouthing his rap like it was your own. You saw him in the mirror reflection but instead of coiling away, shy, you spat his rap to his face with flaming confidence. Yoongi looks down with a shy smile, eyes turning small and polite, skin blushing pink with second hand embarrassment. His face is hot and your sweaty skin, hair plastered to your neck and forehead, in revealing spandex was not helping. Neither is your swag. He clamped his lips with his teeth while you pulled his arm so he would join you. He protested lazily but didn't resist as hard. He throws his head back, whining dejections but you couldn't care less.

"Are you making your own concert here? Plagiarising my songs?"

You heard him and grinned widely at the mirror. He folded his arms and watched you dance seductively and just as the rap got to the 'my tongue sends boys and girls to China' part, the music stops and he is no longer next to you but by the stereo and turning it off.

"Yoongi! I was working out!" "People are gonna come and complain…" "They know who you are…" "They know my name from you…"

Screaming underneath him, that's what he meant. You rolled your eyes at him. He passed you a face towel with a sheepish smile. Wiping your face with it, you watched Yoongi unplug your phone from the sockets. It reveals several missed calls from your mother in law, Yoongi's mom.

"Mom called…" "Really?"

You moved closer to him to see. Yoongi reads the message she sent you outloud and the colors drained down your face.

"What do I cook? What do I do? What does she usually have for lunch? OMG, I don’t know. Do we even have kimchis left? I hadn't restocked…" "She likes fried dumplings and soy garlic chicken stew… it'll be okay. She said she is coming around noon. It's just a little over 8 am… Go take a shower."

You scurried to the bathroom and did as told. Yoongi made the bed while he waited. He turns the cordless vacuum cleaner on but it beeped soullessly because it wasn't charged. He sighed. You always forget to charge them after using them. He opted for a broom and dustpan instead. Yoongi disappears into his home studio, to take the shampoo he had been using and after-shower lotion for you to use. He twisted the knob, knowing you wouldn't lock them when you shower. Knock on the glass door of the shower and told you to use them. You nodded, passing him a look over your shoulder but he was out as quickly as he entered. That cold, cold steely husband.

You stepped out of the shower wrapped in towels with your hair dripping wet, hurrying to the hairdryer to dry your hair. Yoongi walks in with nothing but a towel around his waist. He passes you a chaste kiss on the shoulder first, then your cheeks before he continues to unravel his briefs and showered as well. The water trickles down his face, neck and shoulders, cascading down his speckless back, over the bum of his ass and wetting his happy trails at the same time. He aggressively rubs water over his face, the tips of his hair appear darker as it gets wet. You dressed up in your oversized hoodie, a pair of jeans and red converse, hair tied up in a bun, grabbing your purse for a quick run to the store. If your mother in law is coming, the least you could do is cook an all korean cuisine, prep nicely on the table so she knows that her son was taken care of nicely. Giving her a lasting good impression was your core priority as of now. And Yoongi would have been more than happy to do the grocery for you but this time, just this once, you want to show him that you are dependable too.

If there is anything you learned from korean cuisine is that food is prepared meticulously like you would, a form of art. Everything is placed neatly on a plate, and wrapped tightly. Taste and looks must be perfect. Everything had a sequence. Tradition and culture shapes the good people of Korea to what it is today. And for Daegu native, Yoongi's deep accent and habits become one of the most significant traits that flags a Daegu representative. You are obsessed with getting it right. Although you mostly don't understand the heavy accents he tends to let slip out once in a while, you were expecting to guess the words as it comes. His accents are one of the things that you loved about him. Daegu dialects are strong, and oozing masculinity. They are often direct and unapologetic so it might be heard as harsh. You couldn't tell apart if he is cursing or if he is just plainly just talking about his day when his friends stop by. He caught you a few times, staring blankly at him when he blurted out dialects out of frustrations, and he laughed them off when you accuse him of lying to you about what the words actually mean.

With his mom stopping by, the dialects are going to be thick and you would probably stare blankly most of the time. Communications are limited and Yoongi had to come back and forth to translate some of them.

Korean cooking is not your forte. Let's put that out there, in the open for everyone to see and understand. You are not familiar with it, and although you love some of it, some just don't fit your taste buds. But Yoongi is a full blown Korean. You make adjustments here and there, but it's not like he is always around for you to cook them often. That's why your korean cooking skills deteriorated. Even simple things like choosing which mushrooms to cook with takes 10 minutes longer than it probably should. You went with your heart and took the one you saw first.

Yoongi came out from the baths to see an empty room. Your perfume wafts over his nostril and it tattles about your whereabouts. Just as he was about to investigate, his phone shrieked a calling tone. It was Jungkook. Asking for a chord. He sounds desperate and bored to death. Being a good friend, Yoongi speds to his home studio after clumsily putting on some white tee on top of a grey shorts, halfway through and sending him several chords the little guy could work with, then pulling the rest of the shirt down as it loads. He swore he didn't take long but he found you already changing your clothes and starting to chop things on the chopping board, sloppily. He knows that it was not you to do things sloppily so he offered to help sharpen the knives.

"Soy garlic stew?"

You chewed your lips at him as he asked and nodded. Anxiety was written all over you. Your hands were already so shaky, and that's why you couldn't hold the knife properly, aside from it being blunt. You turned to the sink and began chopping the scallions with another knife Yoongi handed you.

“There are some potatoes I bought in the paper bags, I brought the mushroom I am familiar with, I am not sure if it's the one used in the stew. What time is it already? Is this enough time to even cook the stew? The chicken hasn’t thaw has it? I am not going to have enough time… She is going to know that the dumpling is store bought and I am putting my pride on the line…” you spoke nonstop, didn’t even hear Yoongi if he was saying anything, which you assumed he was quiet, so you became annoyed and, “Why aren’t answering any questions I have??”

Yoongi stood there, with a blank expression, “You wouldn’t even let me talk…”

You answered your own questions, and he was here listening to everything, opening his mouth and closing it before any word could come out because you bulldozed him with words, as he dug out the potatoes you were talking about, as well as the mushrooms.

“I’m sorry, I watched the youtube video on making the stew on the way to the mart and it seems pretty complicated, but doable… I think that the ginger and garlic goes in first,” you paused and sighed, “It’s been awhile since I cooked a proper meal for myself. I don’t know if I had it in me to even do this anymore…”

That’s right. While Yoongi was always away from the last two years, his work trips extended from 3 months to a whole year, and while studying for your master’s degree, you opt for simpler food, just enough for you to get by the day with a filled stomach. Most of your time is dedicated to your studies and laundry. Stopping by Daegu was hardly done, and if anything, you would just send some gifts her way. It is pretty awkward between you and his mother; language barriers, interests, and principles. You didn’t notice when Yoongi was standing behind you, his hand was on top of yours, soothing over your knuckles and he hijacked the scissors from your hands gently.

And he whispered softly atop of your head, “I got this.”

Just like that, he took over kitchen duties and let you handle the simpler stuff like, putting the pot on the stove, fill water in it, skin the potatoes, chopped them into large cubes, unstub the capsicum, peel the skin off of the chicken, peel the garlic and ginger. Yoongi’s instructions are clear and easy to follow. After all the things are chopped and prepared, he hands the ladle to you.

Your eyes widen. And you shook your head. Stepping back. Yoongi clicked his tongue and chuckled through his nose. Coax you. But no, you stepped farther back. He then took your wrist gently and placed the ladle handle in your palm.

“Trust me?” “I trust you, it’s me I don’t trust.”

“I’ll help you every step. Let’s go. Have confidence!” “You’re the multi billionaire, I’m just the struggling degree student with a part time job.”

“You’re Min Yoongi’s wife.” “I find that hard to believe sometimes…”

With another scolding tut of his tongue, you conceded. With a heavy heart.

The chopped chicken pieces are placed in a boiling water pot, and when its reddish flesh turns white and is cooked, it is drained and washed underneath cold running water to remove impurities. You watched quietly as Yoongi cleans them with his capable hands. His veins protrude, extending well over his forearms. The tip of his fingers were pinker than the rest of his hands, and he smoothes over those nooks and crannies the chicken pieces have. As ridiculous as it may sound, you were quite envious of the fact that those chickens have his full attention now. Next, the carrots.

The carotene source is peeled and chopped in large size. Yoongi helped guide your hands over the handle of the knife, because he is pretty particular on how big he wanted those carrots to be.

“Isn’t that too large?” You asked him in a small voice. They are half the size of your thumb. “No, it’s just nice…” he replied in a low voice, his lips just behind your ear, “It has to be in the same size as the potatoes, so it will cook at the same time.”

Your bottom grazed over his front and he learns to just keep you sandwiched in between the counter and him, so it won’t turn to something else. He is just as anxious as you are with his mom coming. Therefore, the percentage of him turning frisky is zero to none. The onions come next. They are chopped in half and then into fours. Yoongi paused and braced himself for tear gas attacks only there was none. He asks where you bought those onions, and you replied, it was grown in your colleagues garden. They were given for free. And he comments,

“They should sell these, we will be their first loyal customer! It doesn’t sting!”

You laughed as you prepared the fruits you bought. It was rock melon and some papayas. You avoided buying tangerine because you know she will bring some from her hometown, knowing how much Yoongi loves them. Daegu’s tangerines are very sweet and plump. There is nothing like it. Yoongi sliced green onions for the stew and extra hot chili peppers because his mom likes them spicy. Then he prepares the mixture for the broth.

“Now watch,” he instructed you, “Soy sauce, rice wine, red chilli pepper powders, minced garlic, two cups of sugar, red pepper paste, sesame oil, pepper. Mix well.”

Yoongi prepared a pot and placed the cleaned chicken pieces in them, added potatoes, carrots and water with the mixture he made just prior. Then, boil. After the chicken is cooked thoroughly, he adds onions. Then the scallions. Then salt to taste. You prepared the oven and Yoongi carried the pot to it to keep it warm until his mom arrived. Dumplings were pan fried. That one was simple. His mom doesn’t like her beverages too sweet, a simple plain water is enough.

When all the food is done, you turn to him at the same time he did. Sweats rolling down his sideburns and his thin white shirt clinging on his skin like he ran a mile. You approached him with a huge smile, swept his hair back to reveal his forehead and dabbed your inner wrist to wipe away his sweat all around his face. He sniggers through his nose. Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, you can’t help but plant a kiss on them. Nuzzling your face on his neck, you draped your arm around his shoulder and mumbled, “Thank you…”

He leans his cheek on your head and kisses one side of your brain, before exclaiming that you both need another shower after cleaning up the kitchen and turning on the air humidifier to chase away the smell of cooking.

“How was the journey?” you chirped. “The weather is scorching hot, the sun is melting me away before I can meet my son,” Yoongi’s mom complained in a thick Daegu accent, and when she stepped in, she gave you a glance and straight away went looking for her precious son. As expected.

“He was just out of the shower, he will come soon, mother,” you said the last word awkwardly, it doesn’t really roll off your tongue as comfortably as it should. She replied to you with a dejected “Hmm.”

You blinked and cast your eyes downwards, then up again to change the topic, “...Let me take you some cold drink… it must have been a torture, to walk around in such hot weather,” you sped to the kitchen and grabbed her a cold water in a tall glass.

“Hello mom…” Yoongi revealed himself from the hallway, gave his mother a hug that you didn’t receive when she walked in. “It wasn’t torture when I’ve come to see my son!” She suddenly changed her words, now she is all bright and cheerful, and you disappeared from her sight completely unless Yoongi looks over to you and includes you in the conversation. That too, wasn’t permanent. Yoongi learned that his older brother’s wife is carrying a baby and Holly had been snuggling to her tummy at every chance she gets. The sight would have been adorable and they were able to take a picture of it so Yoongi’s mom excitedly showed them to Yoongi. They both are sitting on the sofa while you were in the kitchen scooping up cooked rice into bowls of three.

“This sofa is new isn’t it? I didn’t see it the last time I was here,” his mom asked. “Yes, yes… do you like it?” Yoongi said and said you chose them. Then her enthusiasm dissipates. “I like it better without one. Now it’s too westernized,” his mom’s lips turned lopsided, continuing, “Did you know that hanging your legs down will disrupt the blood flow up to your brain? We better sit down on the floor when we eat, too…”

Yoongi prepared a Japanese folded table and pushed aside the coffee table that was there. Everything you’ve prepared on the dining table was moved to the Japanese one. When everything is set, you and Yoongi wait for his mom to start eating before you both do. It’s tradition. Even between man and wife, the older one begins eating first. Yoongi sips the stew and then you begin scooping the stew into your bowl. You were the only one eating mostly with a spoon instead of chopstick since you aren’t too accustomed to it. Yoongi’s mother said in a joking tone that you should start using the training chopstick used by toddlers.

Why are you extra sensitive today? She was just joking, but smiling is so hard right now. Your cheeks feel heavy and your shoulders stiffened. Yoongi carried the rest of the conversation effortlessly. The deep Daegu accent is already shifting your attention towards the fried dumpling instead. It was just a little over 45 minutes since she arrived, why does it feel like days?

“Dumplings, mother?” You chirped, attempted to use the chopstick and successfully landed them in her bowl.

Then she puts them back where they were, and said, “I don’t eat store-bought dumpling, darling,” before resuming to tell Yoongi the story about her neighbour getting into a real estate feud. You hold your breath in your throat and try not to think about it too much. Although you’ve finished your bowl of rice, Yoongi still hasn’t. He was busy nodding away to what his mother was saying. She barely touched the stew. When she turned to her food, you tapped Yoongi’s knee underneath the table and he looked at you wide eyed, darting at the stew. And Yoongi’s lips turned to the shape of an “O”.

“How do you like the stew, mom?” He asked. “It’s okay…” “My wife made it…” Yoongi said with a smug smile.

You smiled, shyly.

“It tastes exactly how Yoongi would cook it. I thought you cooked it, I know how horrible her korean cooking is, Yoongi… You don’t have to lie to me,” his mom passed.

After bidding her farewell at the door, Yoongi accompanied her to his brother’s incoming vehicle that fetches her. His brother made a promise to stop by when the baby arrives and when the Covid cases reduce a bit. You watched from the window from your bedroom and when the car drove off with Yoongi waving goodbye to his mom, your heart thudded differently.

Your eyes stung, and tears impending to fall as it collected around the brims. As you heard the front door beeping open to Yoongi returning, your feet dashed to the bathroom door, pushing it open as your tears rolled down your face like a dam broke.

Sensitive? Too soft? Was I too emotional? Am I not trying hard enough to be enough?

Yoongi walks in, to an eerily silent house. Ridding his shirt by pulling it over his head as he walks down the dimly lit hallway. His heavy footsteps heard across the floorings and you covered your mouth with your hand to not make any sound. He noticed that the bathroom light was on unlike the rest of the room.

“You’re showering alone? Traitor…” he pouted and wriggled the door knob and noticed it was locked from the inside. ���I have a stomach ache,” you hoped you sound convincing. Your voice didn’t sound as shaky and you hope he didn’t catch on. “Okay…” he said, after a long pause. You turned the shower on to reduce the sound of you crying, and went back to sitting on the floor by the door, dug the heels of your palm into your eyes socket, and hugged your knees, sniffling.

“Hey…” his voice muffled through the door. “Hmm?” you replied, through a broken smile.

“Are you okay?”

Another dam broke.

Shit, I’ve started crying again. Why can’t I stop crying?! He is going to find out now… Fuck.

“Talk to me. Please… Say something. Anything,” he puts his lips inches away from the door, covering his hand over his mouth to direct the sound towards you, hoping it would get through.

“Was it mom? She says something you don’t like? You know how mom is, right? She doesn’t mean any of it…” now it’s Yoongi’s turned to bulldoze you with questions he himself answered.

Unable to take it anymore, you had to speak out, even if it means behind closed doors.

“I know she doesn’t like me as a daughter-in-law…” you spoke in broken voices. “Nonsense…” Yoongi passed, nonchalantly.

“No, will you please just listen to me?!” you raised your voice a bit, “I am not like your brother’s wife who cooks great Korean food, who sends her nice homemade desserts to her likings, and now is bearing a grandchild for her. I can’t cook, and had to rely on you a lot. She came over and she didn’t give me a hug like she did you, and the whole she doesn’t even speak to me unless I speak to her first, and even then, she shuts me down so I couldn’t say another word. I can’t even use a damn chopstick or make homemade dumplings she’ll eat!”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to lean his back on the door and hug his knees, then hang his head low.

“Suddenly the sofa is too westernized. And the glass doors letting in too much sunlight when I renovated it the way she wanted. It seems like everything I do is wrong and I just have no place in the Min’s household no matter how hard I try,” you sniffed, and, “To make matters worse she brought up the girlfriends you had in high school and how they cook her favourite food! Girlfriends! Plural! Here I thought you only had one… Jokes on me, I guess… It’s fine, honestly.”

There's nothing more terrifying than the word ‘fine’ you threw when you’re sad and Yoongi knows it. It signifies so many things. It indicates that you’re done, and you’re ready to let go of it, by shoving it under the rug like many other things your mother in law did to you ever since you met her. Yoongi shot his head up when the door opened and his eyes followed you in silence, a little solemn. You dried your hair, sitting on the makeup chair table, running the cool air Dyson hairdryer over the lengths of your hair. Yoongi crawled on all four and knelt behind you to hug your waist, nuzzling his face on your lower back. Then the tears returned, and kept falling.

Your gaze is stuck on the reflection of you in the mirror. What have we become?

It was one of those moments where no words seemed to suffice. Regrets and guilt becomes almost the same thing. Pointing the blame is the last thing on your mind. Choosing sides is difficult when so much is at stake. You may have unclasped his arm from around your waist, heard his wordless gesture and refused to see his face, but so much of him is in you. The fact you held on for so long was because of that man you love and married. Is this going to happen everytime your mother in law stops by?

Even then, you didn't want him to go against his own mother, nor do you want him to side with her… It was such a confusing situation.

Yoongi needs to return to the studio. He packs a few toiletries and clothes for him to wear while he is there. You helped him pack leftover food so you are not burdened to finish everything alone. The conversation shifts to what matters now. You carry your duty as a wife, his partner. You make sure that he is able to provide for this family and even though your emotions are once again neglected for the time being, you were glad that it actually occupied your mind and heart.

At the door, his manager carried his things and instead of leaving along with his manager, Yoongi told him to go first. You already know what comes next. But you aren't sure if you had it in you. One look in your eyes and Yoongi knows that you will rather die than have that conversation all over again. He ran his finger through your hair, lowered his lips to your forehead and stayed like that for awhile, and you said,

“Take care of yourself,” you spoke to his chest, breathing in his musky cologne for the days ahead without him. He stepped back, thumbed your cheek and pinched your chin, tilting your head back. He glanced at your lips while biting his own then backed away, to leave. As the view of his back got smaller and smaller, he exclaimed, “I’m going.” Not once did he turn behind to have one last look. And it was something Yoongi would do. Doesn’t matter if it's at the airport, or at the backstage, he will never look at you after he leaves you, even when he knows you’re right there standing, and looking at him. He says that, if he saw you standing there waiting for him, he will not be able to fight the urge to run to you. So he never looks back. The one thing that he always does before a work trip, is to kiss your forehead. Dr. Laurel Steinberg says, a forehead kiss indicates strong emotional intimacy.

But Yoongi says that a forehead kiss to him signifies a bond that goes beyond lust and love, it was your soul. It is to say, “I might be too far away to hold you, but my soul is yours.” It sends butterflies and confettis your way when he does it. It always feels warm and you always feel protected with a stamp of Yoongi’s lips on your forehead. It feels like a talisman. That no matter what, Yoongi is here.

Recovery. The emotional turmoil, the rollercoaster. You fill your time organizing the photos Yoongi took. With your final exams finished a week ago, you’re given a month off before you begin your final year. Yoongi now lives in his studio office because the album recording session begins and he is in every process. He is in charge of doubling and finalizing the tracks, directing and whatnot. Yoongi sends you a 1 minute 23 seconds video. Scowling at it, your face softened at the sight of him, recording himself in the studio. Dark circles doubled in size and his cheeks sunken. Poor thing hadn't been eating well did he?

“Hey, sweetie…” his familiar guttural voice resonated with your heart strings, “Sorry I haven’t been able to properly give you a call. It’s too late when I’m free, and I’m asleep when you’re awake. So I figured I’ll just send you a damn video, to hell with it.” You chuckled softly as your visions turned blurry.

“I think I will be addressing the recent issue we tucked away for later day. It’s later. You have never been good at fighting for yourself. It was something I don’t really understand because I’ve seen you fight my fight for me,” he glanced to the side and smiled fondly. You were unclear what situation he was talking about but you kept listening.

“You told me that I shouldn’t side with you because that would mean I am against my mother. Here’s what I truly think…” he breathed in and sighed loudly, “I think I should side with you. I spoke to my mom a few days ago, asked her how she is, and I told her several things I don’t like, like bringing up my past ex girlfriend, or how you can’t use the chopstick yet, or how your korean cooking isn’t great yet… how upset it made you and me. She told me that she was just jealous. I left home when I was 16. Come back when I am 20, married at 25. I will always be her son, I let her know that. But I am now someone’s husband, and I happen to cherish this someone, her heart and her wellbeing is my responsibility. I am not stolen from my mom, I consciously chose this person to be with me, to be her husband and built a home with her. And if she can’t respect that, then she cannot return to our house…”

You had to set the phone down and wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“I’m done being a referee,” Yoongi continued after a long pause, “You’re gonna cry again, and I won’t be able to pass you tissue or give you a hug, I hope you understand what I’m trying to say. I am proud of you and all the little things you do. Daegu dialect is difficult to understand ha? That’s alright. You’re getting your degree, and you help pack my things even though you’re sad as hell the day I left. I couldn’t… I couldn’t ask for a better wife, and I hardly think I deserve you. Until we meet again, soon. Your husband, Min Yoongi.”

The video cuts to him winking.

Another text from him,

[Yoongi, 1.03AM] Impression is never permanent. I hope you give mother another try…

Wife is typing...

[Wife, 1.04AM] Erm. [Wife, 1.04AM] Sends a pic.

[Wife, 1.05AM] How’s this for a lasting impression?

.

.

.

.

.

copyright © 2020 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 4

One, Two, Three, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Warnings: General Angst 

Word Count: 2,411

Janus raised an eyebrow at the side in front of him, with his arms smoothly crossed over his chest he was certain that he looked like an almost imposing figure to the side who had dared to come onto his side of the fold. From the looks of it they didn’t even have the gall to be nervous, or in the very least sorry that they had woken him up so dreadfully early when he could have at least slept in for another three or so hours. He’d barely even had enough time to get dressed before he’d been called, let alone enough time to tell Remus where he was going. 

“Well well… Look who it is,” Janus preened, clearly acting like he didn’t even have his morning makeup on and that his dark circles clearly weren’t on display for the whole world to see. “To what do I owe the untenable pleasure, of having you in my presence dearest Loga-” 

“Logic.” Logan cut in, before Janus could get through another singular letter of Logan’s name. “It’s Logic now.” 

Everything that Janus had prepared came to a screeching halt, all the monologues that could have bothered Logan and every philosophical quote that he had on the tip of his tongue, all of them, were swept away in an instant. And in that moment, he was left speechless for what felt like the first time in a very very long time. Right now, he felt very out of the loop, and like he had missed something dreadfully important. 

He did not like it. 

Janus blinked down at Logan, “What?” He almost dumbly asked. 

Logan smiled, and that alone made Janus feel as if he had just walked right into a trap of his own making in some way. It was a polite smile that just bled the fakeness of a modern setting, of a cubicle worker who was seconds away from slamming a clipboard on another co-workers head if they invited them to their baby shower just one more time. Except Logan’s smile seemed to lack that last part, with every inch of face to his eyes just oozing that politeness of a work setting. This in no way felt like the Logan that he had benched for the trial, and this did not feel like the Logan he had gotten out of the way so that he could take his place when it came to talking some sense to Patton. 

Logan shuffled the papers in his hands, forcing Janus to break the open stare he’d had on Logan’s face back down to his hands. “I need these filled out by next wednesday if you could, I could possibly give you until thursday, but it has to be done within the week if things are to go smoothly.” Logan held the papers out to him expectantly, “Understood, Deceit?” 

The papers that Logan held out to him went untouched as that one word hit Janus like a punch to the gut, and it took conscious effort to not touch his chest just to be sure that he wasn’t physically hurting from some invisible hit. He could feel his face falling, into a look of shock, hurt, and unease before he managed to school his expression into one of abject emotionlessness before the other side could truly see how it had made him feel. It honestly surprised him, with just one simple word… Logan had managed to wound him in such a way. 

“Excuse me?” He asked softly, but it was so very clear that underneath that softness, a fierce anger only sparked by his hurt was bubbling just below the surface. “Could you repeat that?” 

For a long moment there was nothing, as Janus looked down at Logan. He fought the urge to tap his foot impatiently, as he waited for something.. anything really that would explain as to why Logan was acting like this, or even just talking like he was. It made something infernal in him want to rage and snap like he had at Roman, but for his own sake he held off but he wasn’t going to for long… not if Logan used that word again when he well and truly already knew Janus’ name and knew that he could use it. 

Was he doing it out of spite? Or just to piss him off and see him lose his composure? 

Why even come here to give him stupid paperwork of all things if he was going to act like this, didn’t he know that the way to get anyone to do anything was to not make them angry?

Had… had something happened with him and the other sides? 

“What are you doing Loga… Logic,” Janus quickly amended the moment he saw Logan’s mouth about to open to correct him. “You know that this isn’t you… so what are you doing acting like this? You aren't fooling anyone.” And then a bit more softly he added, “Are you okay?” 

There it was.

Something in Logan’s expression softened slightly, maybe it was his eyes or the fact that his firm and fixed polite smile fell away just slightly… but clearly enough for Janus to spot it. 

“I…” Logan’s hands dropped down to his side, the papers hanging loosely from his hand, “This is the way that it has to be… with everyone. I can’t be the Logan that everyone wants from me anymore, that’s the version of me that the others… and you walked all over to get what you wanted out of me. I have to be like this, because if I don’t then they won’t listen, and if they won’t listen… then nothing will get better for us or for Thomas.” For what felt like the first time in days, Logan felt like he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. “And if that means treating every single one of you like you're just my coworkers, instead of people who are supposed to be my friends, and people who are supposed to care about me… then that’s something that I’ll have to do.”  

Logan’s mouth opened again, but this time no words came out. He was running out of things to say, and ways to explain his thought process. It had all seemed so clear to him when he had been inside the imagination, but now… now it was so hard to explain things and explain just what he was trying to do. 

The actions seemed easy though, or at least they should have been.

He had never known that cutting himself off from everyone would have been so hard...

“You’re upset though,” Janus cut in almost immediately, he didn’t need a built in lie detector test to tell him that. Logan wore it like a wet coat, as if it troddened him down with every step that he took. The others probably couldn’t see it through their own sadness, but Janus could… he always could. “How long exactly are you planning on keeping this up, Logic?” 

If it was possible Logan tried to look everywhere but at Janus, for the first time since he had seen him everything seemed to weigh down on Logan all at once. The slump of his shoulders, his messy hair that was brushed just enough to be out of his face, and his red lips that he had clearly been chewing and gnawing on. A bunch of bad habits all rolled into one logical side, and for a moment it almost seemed like Logan would succumb to them. 

But then his shoulders straightened, and that look of pure determination lit up like a fire in Logan’s eyes. 

“For as long as I have to.” Logan stubbornly returned, It doesn’t matter if this upsets me or not, if this makes things run more smoothly… if this will make them finally listen to me and take what I am saying seriously… then I don’t care. I really don’t care if it hurts them or me, it will make things better…”

Eventually... 

The word went unspoken on Logan's tongue, and honestly it had taken every part of him to not talk to the others during dinner, and even more of him to not look at their faces. He knew that had he looked at them and seen their expressions or even just knew how they were feeling, then he would have broken and all of this… all of his grand statements about how they treated him and what he wanted would have been swept away like dust. 

Janus was right, he misses them… god did he miss them. Even this, just talking normally to someone like Janus felt good to him, like a soothing aloe on something that burned inside of him. It was so dreadfully boring talking professionally all the time, that even this… was almost relaxing for him.  

But this was the way that it has to be unfortunately, for him and them as well. 

Taking in a deep breath, Logan fixed that same polite smile he'd had with the others into his face. "Now if we're done here I have to get back to work. Have a swell day… Deceit." It felt like he was lugging concrete with the effort that he took to turn his back to Janus, and even more to not look at the other side's face. 

A face that right now was a mixture of regret, and numb horror. 

A sour taste curdled in Janus’ mouth and swept all the way down to his stomach, he could only stare at the place that Logan had once stood with an empty expression. He felt like sinking down to his knees, and just curling up and feeling nothing so that he wouldn’t have to face any of the turbulent emotions that were sweeping through him. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t be allowed to falter over this, especially when it came to one of the light sides and the things that involved them. 

Pressing his hand against the wall, Janus allowed himself a moment to slump against it, his head thudding against it solidly. 

Was this his fault? 

Yes. His mind answered him easily, he had dabbled in the business of almost everyone of the sides just to be able to get his foot into the door when it came to getting Thomas even close enough to accept him. He had known that Remus didn’t particularly care whether or not he was accepted, but Janus had cared… he had wanted it so damn much. Just to be able to help and to possibly rub it in Virgil’s face that he was helping in ways that the anxious side said that he never could do. This was his fault, whether he liked it or not, and…

He was going to have to find a way to help fix it, or at the very least deal with the idea that he had caused it. 

With that in mind, he made his way back to the subconscious. 

“What’s kraken Jan-Jan?” Remus spouted from somewhere in the corner of the living room, Janus didn’t really know as his feet shifted lifelessly forward. 

His entire mind was numb, and the only thing he could really focus on right now was getting back to his bedroom and doing something… anything really to take his mind off of this new development that had happened. His mind felt like it was falling into the pit of a blackhole, stuck in one place but still being pulled in no matter how much it felt like he wasn’t. He shouldn’t care this much, he shouldn’t care this much about one of the only sides he had continuously messed with finally having enough of him. He shouldn’t care about just what Logan decides to do with himself, or with any of the others. 

But…

“Deceit.” 

Logan had called him, and he honestly hadn’t expected that one word to hurt so much. It felt like a barb being dragged over his chest, digging in deep and cutting him in places that he hadn’t even been aware of. He had gotten so used to using his actual name, that hearing his title had felt like a slap to the face. 

Least of all from Logan of all sides. 

“Janus!” Remus snapped loudly, sounding as if he were right behind Janus now rather than off to the side like he had been just a moment ago. And before Janus even knew it he was being tugged back by his middle, almost stumbling on his way back before he felt Remus’ hands on his shoulders steadying him for a moment. “You know that I don’t like being ignored… especially by you.” Remus grumbled hotly, a somewhat bothered look in the creative side’s eyes, and underneath that… an almost worried look in his dark eyes. “What’s going on?” He asked once more, as he scuffed his foot irritably against the floor, almost like that of a bull getting ready to charge. 

Looking down, Janus noted the green sash that had been looped over his head and around his stomach, that Remus had used to practically laso him and then drag him back away from his room. It’s pressure firmly fixing him to the present, and making him think about what had happened and the consequences that would unfold from both his doing as well as Logan’s. Of course Remus would be the one to make him think about it when he really didn’t want to… that was what he did best after all. It was oddly his worst and his best quality that had slowly endeared Janus to him, not that he’d had much of a choice with how clingy Remus had been in the past. 

But looking back at him, Janus felt himself sigh deeply. 

He couldn’t not tell him. 

“It’s…” Janus struggled for the right word. “Weird.” He lamely finished. 

With a tug from his sash Remus stubbornly led him over to the couch, where he forced Janus to sit down before plopping himself right on top of Janus’ lap. 

“What a coincidence!” The creative side crowed, “I’m perfect at weird things.” There was a challenge in Remus’ eyes that told him to just try and get his way out of this one, they both knew that there was no way he was squirming his way out of this one. And especially not with Remus right there. “So go on… talk.”

And so Janus did. 

[lewdbabies]

~My pet~

warning:/ Nsfw, 18+ MDNI, degradation, Choking, raw sex, rough sex, gore, explicit language and content

sukunax reader smut

part 2 is posted on my page enjoy 😉

The sun relentlessly beats down on your exposed flesh above the water, A thick blanket of fog covers the surrounding area making it nearly impossible to see in the distance. You close your eyes sinking deeper into the hot spring allowing it to swallow you all the way up to your neck. Day time baths weren’t a regular reoccurrence of yours, you preferred bathing under the stars under the protection of the night sky. Just The thought of someone catching you NAKED made your face red hot. You were alittle insecure about your body growing up in a village where beauty was The foundation for your future added a lot of pressure onto your self esteem. It was drilled into each and every young woman if their body was not perfection they’d live a sad life with an awful husband. You never let others see how much this bothered you, you held your head up and radiated confidence even if it isn’t how you truly felt.

“-crack-“

A branch. Your head snaps at the sound your arms impulsively reaching for your exposed chest.

“What do we have here” a monstrous voice hisses behind the fog.

Your heart is beating out of your chest, you scramble out of the water grabbing your satin robe from the ground.

“Who are you?!” You stumble backwards deeper into the lush wooded area. Your feet scream in pain with each step.

“No need for introductions, I am here merely for a day time snack” the voice is closer now. You can make out a towering silhouette it’s frame oozing with demonic cursed energy. You spin on your heels ignoring the stabbing pains shooting through you. You run aimlessly desperate for any chance of escape, The curse chases after you with murderous intent destroying all life that stands in its path.

Growing weaker you take refuge behind the nearest tree pulling your knees to your chest and desperately covering your mouth.

“It isn’t polite to play with your food come on out ,my sweet” you here a strained gagging before a foreign red liquid burst from behind striking the tree opposite of you. The tree began to melt and decay instantly turning into a bubbling rotten liquid spilling into the surrounding plant life.

‘If that touches me...I’m dead’ You think to yourself thinking of the best possible plan for survival.

You could stay hidden in hopes he will give up and leave or you could make a run for the temple. As far back as you can remember the elders have always reminded you to never enter the temple. The temple is a forbidden place but no one ever talked about why that is. You’d always wondered what resided in that temple ,you guessed it had to be some sort of demonic entity. Logically speaking big fish eats little fish and if you could lure the curse there you might be able to escape while it is distracted by they mystery monster. It was settled, the plan was reckless stupid even but it was your only option.

You dash forward zigzagging through the trees, you could see the temple right ahead of you so close yet so far.

You begin to yell so loud it feels like your throat is being ripped apart.

“HELP IS ANYONE HERE PLEASE HELP ME PLEAS-“ Burning. Deep excruciating Heat seeps into the entire left side of your body. You’ve been hit. The red liquid bubbles up chewing away at the fabric covering your skin and burrowing itself into your now exposed flesh. You let out a blood curdling screech clawing at the bloody exposed wound.

“I am trying to rest!” A voice booms through the air. You fall to your knees locking eyes with the male figure you can barely make out.

You reach towards the figure whispering “Run” before falling unconscious.

~

Tap. Tap. Tap. ‘Is someone... pacing?’ You question internally. You’ve been Aware for a while now listening carefully and analyzing each and every sound. So far You’ve been able to make out voices, Female voices Talking amongst themselves gossiping about the ‘mystery woman’ as they changed the water near your bed side. This presence was different it was cold and silent, observing your every movement. Tap. They are coming closer. Tap. Your body tenses. Tap. A shiver runs down your spine. You clench the sheets beneath you praying.

“I can smell your fear...” a rough calloused finger trails your cheek sending a current through your core.

Your eyes dart underneath your closed eyelids tears brimming, you attempt to swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“Speak.” He growls low and deep.

You’re conflicted, You’d have to face him sooner or later playing dead can only last for so long. If he wanted you dead you’d be dead by now.

You peek through your eyelashes, and become face to face with...A man?

With further inspection you notice the strange markings lining his porcelain skin.

His Ivory robe hangs slightly open giving a clear view of the Dark lines decorticating his entire torso. His eyes are locked on you staring menacingly through his strawberry locs. You gaze into his pools of honey drowning in them. Despite the fear deep in your chest blood rushes to your cheeks in an instant.

“Who are you” his breath tickles your face.

“I-uh my name is Y/N”

He inches closer exploring every inch of your face, you scrunch your nose in protest.

“Who are you” his voice grows darker sending chills through your body.

“I already told you who I am” you bite back.

“ Well let me rephrase my question...What...are you”

You take a moment and think to yourself ‘what am I? What kind of question is that’ you raise your brow a look of frustration washes over your face.

“I don’t understand what you mean” he squints at your response.

Your attention suddenly averts to your arm , the last thing you remember was clawing at your own melting flesh yet there was no pain at all. Your arm is completely bandaged but you were certain they weren’t necessary. Your arm felt...healed, how long had you been here? You begin to panic wondering how much time had gone by.

“No human could sustain such an injury and survive now I’m going to ask you once more what...are you” his voice is dripping with viciousness it flows through you sending heat between your thighs.

“I am y/n a poor village girl who sells art in the city, my father is a farmer, my mother is dead, I live in a small run down home surrounded by land that is near impossible to harvest, I am regretful to say but I am human.” He sighs raising his hand to your throat claws grazing your neck. A warm droplet of blood trickles down your throat you swallow back the lump forming.

“Do you know who I am?” You stare at him watching the chaotic energy grow around him consuming his entire form. It swirled violently in a tsunami of Darkness stronger than any cursed energy you’d seen before.

Curses plagued your village all the time it was apart of your everyday existence but this was on another level. Each year official’s would come and host a challenge for the villages most “gifted”. A test to figure out who was gifted with spiritual abilities that could help the disposal of curses. You always knew you were gifted you could see past the blanket of reality, but you were weak physically unable to protect yourself and others on the battlefield. You decided to stay home and live out your days in the village with your father after a few failed attempts at the test. During these exams you’d seen many terrifying creatures but him...He was the embodiment of destruction nothing you’d ever witnessed before.

“You’re a curse...” His laugh rumbles deep within his chest,You grow irritated.

“My pet...” he brushes your cheek with the rough pad of his thumb.

He leans down lips brushing your ear,his breath fanning your skin.

“Ryomen Sukuna” he whispers.

Your eyes widen as your body paralyzes with fear. The strongest Demon to ever walk the earth is standing inches from your face. He smirks at your reaction his tongue tracing his bottom lip in approval.

You always seemed to stumble into misfortune situations but this... this is otherworldly.

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three

A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series!  Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon!  This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                 *     *     *     *     *

Brock and Grace were having fun.  Actual, genuine, real fun.  Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time.  They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants.  They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall.  They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym.  They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing.  Grace and Svea got closer – much closer.  Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks.  Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together.  They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.

Fun.  Life was fun.  

***

“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him.  It was bigger than his jaw could open.  Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him.  “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.

“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.

“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea.  “What!  Isn’t that the joke?!”

“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock.  “Just bite the thing, Brock.  Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.

“Again, that’s what she said.”

Grace hit Elias too this time.  

***

“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.  

Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant.  “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”

“You do?”

Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster.  “When do you want to eat there?”

“Oh, I – I don’t know.  Can I get back to you?”

“Of course!  Just let me know.”

“Wow Grace,” Svea said.  “You really do have the world at your fingertips.  Vancouver especially.”

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  “It’s a blessing and a curse.  I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me.  It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now.  Most of the time they don’t even truly care.  And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”

Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life.  She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter.  She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”

“Oh God no.  No no no – you don’t need to apologize.  I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts.  “I know how fortunate I am, believe me.  I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate.  But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you.  Most people don’t know what that’s like.  And like, thank God they don’t.  But they think they know.”

All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.

***

Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant.  But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.

When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin.  “How’s your dad doing?”  “Are the new round of meds working?”  “Is he having more trouble getting up now?”  “What are the doctors saying?”  “How’s his memory?”  “How’s the swallowing?”  “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”  

“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair.  “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at.  I wasn’t the best in school.  I just didn’t get things the way other kids did.  And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I��d keep doing dance in some capacity.  I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it.  That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet.  Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart.  And I just hope that people see that.”

“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone.  “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way.  I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”

Grace nodded.  She completely understood.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said.  “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”

Brock found himself nodding his head automatically.  “Of course,” he said softly.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine.  From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.  

“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap.  “I actually come here with the boys sometimes.  The food here is amazing.”

“It is, isn’t it?  James knows the head chef,” she said.  “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”

It was at that point that James put down his menu.  “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks.  We’ve been over this.”

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu.  It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger.  It was the size of his eyeball.  “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation.  “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”

“Oh, it is.  Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked.  Brock forced out a chuckle.

***

“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna.  She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.

The club was completely unstuffy.  There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service.  It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it.  Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything.  So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably.  To his credit, Brock did too.  It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music.  Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were.  This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.  

For at least a night, Grace could forget.  She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce.  She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated.  She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally.  She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s.  For one night, everything was perfect.  Everything was fun.  Everything was how it should be.

***

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face.  He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth.  He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up.  “Feel good?”

“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face.  “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”

Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat.  “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.

Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s.  Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against.  Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding.  He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.  

“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”

The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it.  God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!!  During sex?!  Really?!  Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser!  Way to be a fucking idiot and—

“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face.  The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him.  It was miraculous.  “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.  

“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Megumi Fushiguro + chubby s/o

First things first, before we get to the fluff, there are some things we gotta point out

Megs has stated very clearly he doesn't care who he falls for, as long as they have admirable traits. Seriously, Todo, stop asking. His "boring" answer isn't going to change.

This screams bi/pan rights, but also, that means he doesn't give a fuck if you have a little junk in your trunk

I'm so proud of that line please laugh at it

Anyway, when you were introduced as a new student, he didn't talk to you much

Well he did, but only about work and missions and stuff

Does this kid talk to anyone about anything that isn't curse related?

You seemed to gravitate towards Yuji anyway because honestly, he's the embodiment of happy he's just a cool dude

You didn't really catch his eye until he overheard you talking with Nobara about how upset you were with Gojo

He never passes an opportunity to be angry at Gojo. He was intrigued.

Apparently, Gojo had taken the liberty of designing your uniform for you, just like he did Yuji, but he fucked up the measurements

Big time

You seemed to be fond of baggier clothes because it "hid" your tummy and thighs

Nobara was supportive but struggling. She knew how to hem clothes to make them tighter, or shorter, not looser. She really was trying.

Yuji got involved because he saw you were stressed while Nobara tugged here and snipped there and nothing seemed to be working. Yuji learned that making silly faces and doing Fortnite dances doesn't help teenagers going through a body image crisis.

Megumi looked at the chaos and spoke before he really even knew what he was saying 

"Does it feel too tight? Does it restrict your movements, like in a fight or something?"

This kinda caught you off guard, but you shook your head. No, the material was naturally flexible and breathable, and the reason you couldn't breathe wasn't that the uniform top was too tight, it was because you felt you looked terrible

Megumi just shrugged. "Then you shouldn't worry about it. You fill it out nicely. It looks better than us, in our baggy uniforms."

Where the fuck did that come from Megs?

He felt the need to excuse himself with a polite bow and leave in his typical cool Megumi way even though his heart was beating faster than anything

He didn't see the way your face lit up, both with excitement and blush. Nobara did and caught on instantly, while Yuji just assumed you were hot and started fanning you with his notebook

Megumi didn't avoid you after this, but he did tend to freeze when your conversations strayed away from typical shaman things

He wasn't trying to, he was just constantly lost in thought

Why did he say that? Well, he means, it was obvious he said it because it was true- that uniform clings to your body in a way it wouldn't fit anyone else. Its kinda hot

Megumi Fushiguro this is your classmate stop having those thoughts

Maybe he wasn't just trying to cheer you up. Maybe there are some things he hasn't discovered about himself. He actually really never had a crush on anyone. Is that was this is? Feelings?

Ew. But keep going.

Megumi noticed things over the next couple of things that were unsettling to him. You used self-deprecating humor. A lot. Always poking fun at yourself. He didn't mind it at first because, well, you laughed about it, but still. It's like you thought you really looked like the Michelin Tire Man.

He never knew what to do in these situations. Should he laugh? It seemed to bring you joy. But he didn't think you looked bad at all.

He also noticed you didn't eat much. And when you did you avoided sweets and grease. Megs was known for being the only one that ate healthy in the group, but even he didn't have salad all the time. You acted like you were embarrassed to eat in front of people, so you chose the tiniest meal.

This worried him a lot. At first, he bored you with the importance of eating three well thought out and balanced meals with the proper amount of proteins and calories and shit. But that seemed to ruin your appetite more, so he stopped.

He started sliding part of his meals onto your plate. He considered it a success when you would eat it.

The last thing Megs noticed was that you pushed yourself to the absolute limit during sparring practice and he hated it

See, you actually didn't need to be physically strong. Yes, it helps in battle, but your particular cursed technique kinda made up for being average strength. If no one could get close to you, and you can't get close to them, then you don't really need to deliver a punch, right? 

But you would just keep at it oh my god

One hundred push-ups. One hundred sit-ups. One hundred squats. Every day. He was worried you were gonna go bald at this point

He'd still love you but still, spontaneously losing your hair because of rigorous training as not good

You'd fight with one of them until you were pink and dripping with sweat. It was obvious you were breathing heavily and, honestly, it's been two hours. Even Yuji was getting tired, but you wouldn't stop.

Megumi found himself doing something he thought he never would. Ever.

He invaded your privacy, of course. 

"Shoko-sensei, Gojo-sensei asked for a copy of (l/n)-kun's physical and related medical records"

At first, he just wanted to see if you were anemic. You don't really show any symptoms, but also, you don't eat a lot. All this exercising can't be good if you are. Then his thoughts strayed to "oh god .... What if they have heart problems? Lung problems? They shouldn't push themselves so hard if they do. What if they avoid certain foods because of a stomach issue? What if-"

You're healthy. Just as he initially thought.

Megumi was baffled, to be honest. 

He can get avoiding certain foods if they hurt your tummy. But what if you were just afraid of being made fun of because of stupid cliches?

He can get casual exercise if it was important you lose weight so you don't get sick. But what if it was because you really hated how you looked?

This hurt Megumi. He threw his copy of the reports in the shredder and went on his way

He wondered around, lost in his thoughts until he spotted you just outside of the girls' dorms doing something

He could have sworn you were fresh out of the shower but somehow still exercising

Yoga? Maybe? He couldn't tell and he didn't care

You were wearing the cutest set of pajamas, and your hair was still damp

And when you raised your arms up your shirt rose and he could see the tummy in question, complete with stretch marks and whatever other blemishes resided there (scars, freckles, etc.)

He did the most ooc thing I've ever made this lil fucker do

He runs up, gets on his knees, and kisses the tummy

All over the tummy

Just as he thought. Warm and soft. Both the skin and the texture are soooo soft-

As you turn into a flustered mess, "Fushiguro-san what the fuck", he throws his arms around your knees and throws his over his shoulder

"You aren't that heavy if I can do this... (Y/N)-chan"

Oh god the way your first name rolls off his tongue

Well, as long as he's near the girls' dorms, he might as well let himself in-

As you flail and giggle, trying to break away, he sees your thighs jiggle out of the corner of his eye

This sets something off in him he doesn't understand, but also, who the fuck cares

It isn't hard to find your room and he allows himself in, still pardoning himself for the intrusion, and he sets you down on your bed

Still doesn't give you a chance to speak as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in your stomach

"Warmmm...~"

He's never cuddled anyone ever, but he already knows this is ten times better than cuddling someone who's built like a wall

Squish > muscles

"You know you're beautiful right?"

This makes you blush, but you reluctantly bring your fingers through his hair. "You think so?"

Megumi furrows his brows and looks up at you. "You don't?"

Megumi stays with you all night. You two stay up until three am talking about insecurities, everything you admire about each other, and Megumi practically worships your body through words and praise

He decides he's going to help you feel more confident about your body and your looks

All while loving every inch of your body

The next morning was a mess though because he had to somehow sneak out of the girls' dorms without anyone noticing

Gojo would be pissed if he found out

Had he not orchestrated this whole thing

Seriously, you honestly thought Gojo made mistakes? 

He hates seeing his precious students down themselves, and even though he only knew you for a couple of days back then, he knew this would be a problem

Precious little y/n, who is beautiful in every aspect but insecure about their looks, surrounded by muscle-bound idiots

He had to do something, how could he not

He knew one of them would enjoy your body

He knew it would be Megumi too, he sees how he looks at plus-sized girls-

Even he thought you were cute and was proud to have you as his child

All of his children are cuter than everyone else's children

And now all is well

You became more confident in your body and eating in front of others, toned down the exercise, and Megumi became the most whipped boy in the school

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[moeruhoshi]

Lucy sighed as she let her hair out of her tight bun, groaning and falling to sit on her couch.

The day has been filled with meeting after meeting, hours of sitting in a chair placed in the corner of the room.

Her father insisted that she take part in every one, otherwise how was she supposed to know how a company was run?

Between that and private tutor sessions that lasted all morning, she was tuckered out.

She kicked off her heels and unbuttoned the top of her shirt, feeling fatigue claim her body.

Lucy wasn't sure she could go on like this much longer, but her father wasn't keen on giving her breaks. The only time she got was the few hours for sleep alone in her apartment. There were no weekends, no sunshine, no amusement.

The gray colorscheme of this life was never the one she wanted. The money, the business, it meant nothing to her.

But where was she going to go? Without her father, she had nothing. There was nothing for her outside of this world, he made sure of that. His business would be succeeded, that was the only care he had.

Another groan passed through her lips as a heavy knock fell on her door. The ache in her legs carried her to answer it, assuming Jude sent a secretary to deliver papers for the next day.

She opened the door with a polite smile, her breath quickly stolen as they made eye contact.

"Hey, Luce," The thick, burly, voice of the man who stood before her sunk into her bones like a well-lit fire. He stood with his hands in his pockets, that familiar white scarf, and his hansomly wide grin. "It took me a while to find ya, sorry I'm late,"

"Natsu," His name was so distant on her tongue, like a dream she had when she was younger.

It felt like that at times, her world before she was forcefully yanked out of it.

She had friends, happiness, a real life any teenager would want.

Every day was eventful, always different and full of laughs. They did everything together, the whole gang inseparable. They were her first real family.

Levy, Erza, Gray, Gajeel, Juvia, and...Natsu. He was more than a friend, and it was too late by the time she realized it.

They were closer than close, together whenever they could be. She remembered the nights where he snuck into her room, bringing in junk food and video games that her father would never allow through the front door.

They called each other if they couldn't meet up, texted in the middle of class when the teacher wasn't looking. She tutored him in the classes he nearly failed, had her maids sneak her into the kitchen so she could make him lunch. She snuck out of the house to meet him, Natsu taking her around every inch of town. They even saved a stray kitten together, his fur an odd blue shade.

When they held hands, hugged, or he slung his arm around ger shoulders, it just felt right. His whole presence seemed to light up her life, warmed her to the center of her soul.

She lost him, them all, when Jude caught the two kissing on the front porch.

They had been out the whole day, on a picnic and watching the cherry blossoms fall. She made a big lunch with Virgo, packed with Natsu’s favorite things. She always loved the way he got so excited over the things she cooked for him.

It was a day like any other, as they spent so many of them together. But his demeanor seemed off when they got to her front door that night. Suddenly he was shy and quiet, blushing and fidgeting.

His words kept getting jumbled and tugged on his scarf at least a hundred times.

In the end, he settled his confession with an abrupt kiss. His hands wrapped around her waist, the sudden movement making her drop the basket.

And for a first kiss, it was a pleasant embrace. His lips were soft and adorable, puckered against her own. Her eyes closed, a dream-like feeling overwhelming her. Maybe that's when reality took its rightful place, maybe it was always just a dream.

Jude opened the door, yelling at Natsu to let her go. He pulled the pink-haired boy off of her, angrily punching him in the nose.

Lucy screamed as she was dragged inside, not able to make sure Natsu was okay.

Her father had him thrown off the property, barring him or anyone else she knew from coming back.

He moved them out of Magnolia before she knew it, before the school year was over, before she could say goodbye.

And just because of a kiss? Surely that was an overreaction for any parent, but this was a special case.

Natsu came from a jaded family, the Dragneels known for their very shady business dealings. His two older brothers stood by his father's side, and ran things on the street. Though no one could ever prove what they were really doing.

A Dragneel would never be good enough for a Heartfilia, he made sure to drill that in her head.

A scandal with that seedy family could mean ruin, it was already bad enough that he allowed them to be friends.

"Natsu," She said again, his name filling up her heart. It took away her soreness, blew away the dark clouds that shrouded her life. His wide spread grin made butterflies rise in her stomach; she never realized how much she missed this feeling.

"Natsu..." He closed the door as he stepped inside, wrapping her up in his arms.

When was the last time she felt so relaxed? Those few years ago when he kissed her, she assumed.

"You still smell so good," He mumbled into her hair, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

"I missed you so much," She teared up slightly, giggling as he lifted her off her feet and walked them further into her home.

"I missed you too," They both laughed as they fell onto the couch, still tangled in each other's arms.

"What's with the suit?" She asked, smirking as he rolled his eyes.

"Really? Thats your first question? Not how I am or anything normal, weirdo?"

"You always wore hoodies and jeans, don't blame me," She smacked his arm with a small pout.

"It's for work, okay? Duh," He sighed. "Dad insists that I gotta look nice."

"It looks nice on you," She pulled playfully on his tie, Natsu leaning his forehead against hers.

"Its like you never left," He groaned. "Dammit, Luce, its like you never left,"

"I never wanted to leave you," His hands held her face, thumbs rubbing calm circles on her cheek.

"Everyone's been worried sick since, you never called,"

"Father tracks my phone bill," Her chuckle was fitted with annoyance, her fist slightly balled up. "I wanted to,"

"Damn bastard, he's lucky my nose healed," Lucy giggled as he looked away, the blonde gently kissing the ridge.

"What took you so long?" Her lips felt tingly, Natsu's eyes boring into her, as if he could see her soul.

"I had a lot to do before I could come get ya," His voice was suddenly a bit rough, his hands a bit more steady. "I'll take you away, I promised myself I'd come save ya,"

"Really?" Her heart clenched as he nodded, both of them leaning forward.

"I never got to hear what you thought of my kiss," She gulped as he now spoke in a husky whisper. "Do you remember it?"

"Mhm," She felt smothered in a pool of honey, all of her previous worries vanishing with each passing second. Had it felt like this the first time? She only remembered the pain of watching the bloodied Natsu being dragged away by their security team.

Their kiss was gentle at first, like an old memory rising from the dirt of the past. Natsu laid back against the couch, pulling her along with him. His hands stayed cupped on her face, their lips moving in slight sync.

It was a warm embrace that grew as their hunger for more was ignited.

Their kisses became deeper, their hands began to wander and explore each other.

He pulled her tongue into his mouth along with a soft moan, his hands fondling her hips.

"No one taught you how to kiss, right?" Natsu grumbled as he pulled away for a brief moment.

"You're my first and only kiss," Lucy let out a happy gasp as Natsu flipped them over, a slobbering kiss pressed against her cheek.

"Damn right I am," She rolled her eyes and bit her lip as he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a dragon tattoo that wrapped around his torso.

"I wanna be sure, Luce," She frowned as he stopped at the last button. "I know I showed up outta the blue, but you know what I want. So if you can't come with me, I'll understand. Just know that I'm gonna give you the whole fucking world if you do. I fuckin' love you,"

"You're my soulmate," He purred happily, grinning his signature grin as she began to unbutton her own shirt. "Take me wherever you want, Natsu,"

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 3)

Hello everyone! Welcome back to your favorite(/j) hot mess of a fic. Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post, I thought I'd give you all a bit of time to recover from that last one. Plus, I was working on Scott's POV of this (which will be posted soon, don't worry!) Anyways, enjoy the fic!

(Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.)

(Also a disclaimer that I am not a medical professional and any medicine portrayed in this fic is likely inaccurate. Do not follow any medical procedures used in this fic, as I did absolutely 0 research to confirm any of this.)

Chapter Title: I turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 3214

Content warnings: blood, canon-typical violence

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Actual fic under the cut:

The next morning dawns bright, sunny, and with a looming sense of unease that Jimmy can’t seem to shake. Scott’s ring feels heavy on his finger despite the resolution they reached yesterday, and he shifts anxiously as he waits for his husband to wake up. The sun’s well over the horizon and Scott still isn’t up, which only makes him more anxious. Usually, Scott’s an early riser. Today, though, he’s sleeping like the dead, and the scar on his throat doesn’t help the effect. Something is wrong. Jimmy doesn’t know how or why he knows it, but something is wrong and why is Scott still sleeping?

Finally, Jimmy can’t take it any longer. “Scott? Scott, wake up,” he whispers.

Nothing.

“Scott! Wake up!”

His husband is still firmly unconscious, and Jimmy’s heart leaps into his throat as he begs one more time. “Scott? Please?”

Scott rolls over and blinks at him, thank god, his voice coming out thick with sleep. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy urges. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That gets his love to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. There are still dark circles visible under them, and Jimmy gets a rush of guilt for waking him. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” Scott gets out of bed with only a slight stumble, sliding on his cloak in one graceful movement. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott laughs, looking more alive than he has in months, but quickly sobers again as they reach the front door. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.”

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott snatches up a frankly ridiculous axe from nearby, a shimmering pink monstrosity that’s twice the size of Jimmy’s head. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

The door creaks as it swings open, and the source of Jimmy’s unease becomes immediately clear.

Across the valley is the demon, standing next to Scott’s enchanting tower.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses, once he gets his racing heart under control. “Right there by the tower!”

Scott looks like someone just killed a cat in front of him, an odd sort of heartbreak flashing across his face before it’s replaced with determination. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay. Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy looks at the elf who very nearly broke his heart, and chooses to put that heart right back in Scott’s hands. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.”

“Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.”

Jimmy hands it over.

Scott slides it onto his finger. His hands are a little smaller than Jimmy’s, and it only fits on his right middle finger. Which would normally be cute, but right now Jimmy is just terrified. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.”

Jimmy nods.

“From there,” Scott continues, “I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger. I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.”

“What about you? Will you be okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

Jimmy knows Scott’s lying because Scott could never properly lie, not when it’s to Jimmy. He always looks away, no matter how steady his voice stays. Jimmy says nothing about it, but he grabs a spare sword and prays he’ll be quick enough to save Scott if it all goes downhill.

Scott hefts the axe. “Ready?”

Jimmy isn’t, but he nods. “Ready.”

Scott steps out the door, calling out something in some elven language that sounds like a challenge. At the same time, Jimmy bolts out the side door, sprinting for a low building which he thinks is the barn.

Somehow, he gets there without incident, and he throws himself into the mud without hesitation. The farrier gives him a deeply weird look, which Jimmy ignores in favor of sprinting for the village. The altitude means he’s out of breath by the time he gets there, hurrying inside the walls. The elves give him strange looks, a few seeming rather judgemental. Jimmy tries not to flush, remembering Scott’s instructions.

“Excuse me?” He asks the nearest elf. “I’m looking for uh, Gilnar?”

They stare him down, raising a single eyebrow. “For what reason?”

“Scott- Lord Smajor sent me.”

In the background, there’s a cry of pain, which thankfully sounds demonic rather than elven.

“Gilnar should be that way.”

“Thank you, uh, gentleperson!” Jimmy hurries that way, stopping another villager. “Are you Gilnar?”

The look he gets is even stranger. “Do I look like a captain of the guard to you? No. What do you want Gilnar for anyways?”

“Scott told me to find them.”

“Then that’s them over there,” the elf tells him, pointing out an incredibly short elf with neatly plaited brown hair.

“Thank you!”

Gilnar looks up at his approach, seemingly unbothered by the mud. “Lord Codfather, right? Scott sent ya?”

“He said to tell you to lock down the kingdom,” Jimmy reports faithfully. “He also said you should protect me, or something like that, but I don’t really need- I’ll be fine is the point.”

“Riiiiight. Calros!”

A tall elf appears behind them.

“Protect the codfather, Lord Scott’d be a bit put out if he died, I think. Alqualoth!” Another elf appears. “I need you to help me get everythin’ locked down.” With that, Gilnar hurries away, a few elves falling into formation behind them.

“So….this is awkward,” Calros, the tall elf, offers.

Jimmy ignores them in favor of running to the edge of the cliff the village is built on, trying to catch a glimpse of Scott. He’s rewarded only with the sight of his husband dueling a demon, which isn’t exactly what anyone wants to see at 8 o’clock in the morning. At least Scott doesn’t seem to be entirely overwhelmed, but the demon has far too much of the upper hand for Jimmy’s comfort.

“Whoa, whoa, let a girl catch up,” Calros yelps. She doesn’t seem very dignified for an elf, but Jimmy’s not very dignified for a human, so he understands. “So, uh...how’s Codland?”

Unfortunately for Calros and her well-meaning questions, at that moment, Scott starts screaming. It takes a moment for Jimmy to even register the sound as Scott’s voice; he’s never heard Scott scream before. It’s a high, broken noise, pure pain in every note as the demon pins Scott to the mountainside. Jimmy doesn’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t give to never have to hear that noise again, which is why he jumps the wall at the edge of the village.

“No, wait!” Calros yells.

Jimmy’s already gone, landing awkwardly on the other side. He hardly feels the pain of what’s surely a twisted ankle, sprinting for the scene of the fight. The sword flies into his hand, the gleam of enchantment shimmering bright. He doesn’t have a single second to think about what he’s doing as he opens his mouth to shout. “Hey, demon thing! Yeah, you! You’re ugly! And you probably smell bad!”

The being turns its head in a way that’s far too human for Jimmy’s comfort, and thank god, Scott stops screaming. “What did you say to me?” It hisses.

Jimmy’s heart is beating in his throat, palms sweaty as he scrapes together the few remaining bits of his courage. “I said you’re ugly! And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

The demon loosens their hold, rage twisting their smile into something even more terrifying, and Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free. Jimmy watches as he struggles to his feet, the ring gleaming on his hand.

Scott cries something in some elven tongue, and the demon hisses.

He calls out another word, a command, and the ring glows with a light of its own as the demon is forced back, inch by inch. Finally, it flies backwards and vanishes entirely.

Scott sinks to his knees, cradling the hand with the ring on it, and Jimmy breaks into a run again.

“Scott! Scott!”

His husband looks up at him with haunted eyes, face bruised and battered, a little blood trickling down his brow. His teeth are bared, just a little sharp, and there’s something desperate about the way he whispers Jimmy’s name, his voice hoarse from screaming.

Jimmy kneels by him quickly, looking for any major injuries. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” he’s cut off by Scott yanking him into a desperate hug, burying his face in Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Oh,” Jimmy says weakly. He wraps his arms around Scott in return, running a soothing hand up and down Scott’s back as he feels the elf tremble. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott says again. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over. I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott sounds almost angry, but the words quickly dissolve into incoherent sobs and fragments of sentences. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy.” He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, hands clutching the fabric of Jimmy’s shirt, and Jimmy has never felt so helpless. All he can do is whisper empty comforts, kissing the top of Scott’s head and holding him close.

Elves have begun to surround them, varying looks of concern or disgust on their faces. Jimmy glares up at all of them, daring them to say something.

“Uh, milord?” Gilnar starts, and that’s the final straw.

“Give him a goddamn minute!” Jimmy snaps, rage bubbling up under his skin. “He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!”

One of the elves gives him a look of disdain. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

“He’s too young for this,” Jimmy thinks he hears someone mutter, but he’s too angry to bother paying attention.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one! Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” the same elf sniffs.

Jimmy’s about to open his mouth and inform them that he knows about the affairs of being a decent person, for goodness sake, but he’s cut off by Scott raising his head, his sobs subsiding into ragged breathing. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.”

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues, but there’s no dissuading Scott as he staggers to his feet.

“Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has. Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, grabbing Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy yelps, startled, as Scott drags him off with inhuman strength.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott slumps, collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs. “Well, fuck me to the End and back,” he groans.

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy asks, worried.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.”

“Oh. Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott laughs, a bitter, exhausted sound. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

At first, Jimmy thinks he’s misheard. “What?”

“My twin. My older sibling. The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.”

“What?”

Scott sighs. “Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.”

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott closes his eyes, looking as if it pains him to talk about this. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently.

Scott nods tensely. “When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically,” he says, tapping Jimmy’s engagement ring. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott’s voice shakes a little, and Jimmy takes his hand in comfort. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, a faint, fond smile creeping onto his face. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jimmy replies, and then something Scott said catches up with him. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

“….Maybe.”

Jimmy’s torn between laughter and outrage. “Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?”

“You’re the most precious thing in my life. I gave you everything I could offer.”

Jimmy flushes immediately, feeling his cheeks heat with the compliment. It’s not fair that Scott can make him lose all his remaining braincells with just a simple sentence, it really isn’t! “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks innocently.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean! That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s smirking. He definitely knows exactly what he’s doing, and Jimmy would hate him for it if he was even capable of hating Scott.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” The charming words would be a lot more effective if Scott didn’t also choose that moment to try and wipe the blood off his forehead, only succeeding in smearing blood everywhere and reminding Jimmy to be worried about him.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers, looking around for a rag. Scott patiently lets him fuss, and Jimmy dabs at the cut with a wet rag and bandages it carefully. He moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. Even then, he’s not fully satisfied until he makes Scott count backward from 100 to prove he hasn’t hit his head too hard.

“Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy, ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy,” Scott whines.

“Just a bit more? For me?” It’s a dirty trick, but Jimmy gives him the puppy dog eyes that he knows Scott can’t say no to.

He’s rewarded with a long-suffering sigh and “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve before he’s satisfied, ignoring Scott’s complaining about having to do math so early in the morning.

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy laughs and bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott says, but he’s smiling too.

Jimmy makes them both pancakes, firmly ignoring the lingering fear from the demon attack, not to mention all the revelations from this morning. Those are problems for future Jimmy. Present Jimmy is going to scold his husband for sneaking bits of pancake batter (“It doesn’t even taste good, Scott!”) and drink hot chocolate in a beautiful little kitchen with the love of his life. None of that demon nonsense, no thank you. Just hot chocolate and pancakes and the sound of Scott’s laughter as he teases Jimmy about smelling like fish. Which is a perfectly fine smell, thank you very much, Scott, why are you laughing?

Every so often, he pauses and admires the bracelet that’s still on his wrist, running his fingers over the elegantly shaped flowers. This must have taken Scott so long to make, and he did it all for Jimmy. He gave Jimmy a ring of power, for goodness sake! Jimmy doesn’t think he’ll ever be over the thrill of how it feels to be so loved and to know it, too. To know Scott loved him back in 3rd life and loves him now and will love him for the rest of Jimmy’s mortal lifespan and beyond. He can’t quite wrap his head around it, honestly, but it’s not a bad thing, not at all. How could having Scott in his life ever be a bad thing? He thinks- knows, as well as he knows his own self- that whatever happens next, he and Scott can face it together.

[piratewithvigor]

Eldritch Horrors Anonymous: A Wrestler Fic

Dr. Shelby's led plenty of support groups before and helped plenty of people in them. But these people aren't exactly people...

(I spent the last two days binging matches and assorted other videos to try and get the characterizations right, so let's see how this goes)

Plenty of bad crack below

When Dr. Shelby had been approached with the idea of running this group, he’d been… unsure. Possibly even apprehensive. He’d led groups for violent individuals before; anger management was the most memorable, but the coordinator nearly begged him to start this one. She’d had some of these individuals in other groups, but none of their problems truly seemed to stem from the focus of the groups they tried. They had a unique problem. A unique struggle that needed support from others just like them.

It was the night of the first meeting and he wasn’t quite sure what the outcome might be. The community center had been advertising it for the last few weeks and he’d heard about some interested parties, but the exact number was a little unsure. He’d been told a ‘handful’, which wasn’t frustrating as an imprecise number until it came time to set up the chairs in the room. Six seemed like a good number. A couple, but not too many. Colder drinks were set out on a table along the edge of the room. Nothing too hot. A lot of those coming had problems with heat. As well as with machinery. Some of them had habits with… well, with making it explode.

God, he hoped nothing exploded during this meeting.

The flyer stapled to the bulletin board said the meeting started at 6 and it was 5:55 when Dr. Shelby sat down in his chair opposite the semi-circle. The noticeably empty semi-circle. A part of him was disheartened that the room was empty, but a much more selfish part was deeply relieved. He’d spent a few days reading articles about these individuals and how best to help them. Unfortunately, not much research had been done besides describing the pain they inflicted in such gruesome detail that Dr. Shelby had felt the need to make himself a cup of tea.

But those were laboratory settings. This was a friendly support group. No one was being forced to be there, or even being paid. They were coming because they wanted to.

By 6:03, he was tempted to just start packing up. Maybe no one was coming. Maybe the group was a bad idea in the first place. He’d been told to wait until 6:05 for people to arrive, but even just two more minutes seemed like too many to just sit there.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the large metal door on the other side of the room creaking open slowly. A hand gloved in black leather wrapped around and Dr. Shelby tensed for a moment until the owner of the hand appeared. A pleasantly-dressed gentleman in a neat sweater, a short beard and his hair pulled back looked around the room before spotting Dr. Shelby and seeming to relax.

“Excuse me, is this Eldritch Horrors Anonymous?” He asked, smiling warmly.

“Uh, it’s supposed to be,” Dr. Shelby nodded. If anyone had shown up, he wanted to add, but bit his tongue back.

The man’s smile widened and he turned back from the room to call over his shoulder. “Found it, guys! We’re supposed to be in here!”

Guys? There were more?

Maybe the night wouldn’t be such a bust after all.

The man stepped inside the room and pulled open the door politely. Dr. Shelby couldn’t see the people until they entered, but it didn’t truly matter; no amount of time could have prepared him for the group joining him.

The first one to nearly skip through the door looked like a child at first glance. Definitely not an eldritch horror. She wasn’t much taller than one and with her long blonde hair pulled into pigtails and a doll clutched to her chest, she looked even more like one. She paused long enough to thank the man holding open the door before taking a seat in the middle chair of the semi-circle, directly across from Dr. Shelby. It wasn’t until she was fully seated that he got a proper look at her face. Her strikingly icy eyes were surrounded by thick black rings and every time the hairs in front of her face moved, Dr. Shelby swore he saw black liquid dripping from her scalp. The chill that went down his spine was either negated or enhanced by her wide, jubilant grin. He wasn’t sure which.

The man who sat beside her also seemed confusingly normal at first glance. A plain black t-shirt and leather jacket. Perhaps a little more… edgy than Dr. Shelby would have preferred to dress, but he seemed like an equally charming young man.

Unfortunately, a pattern of three seemingly normal people did not necessarily mean the group would be.

The next one to enter the room had to quite literally duck to pass through the door. Dr. Shelby guessed him to be seven feet tall, give or take a few inches. He was wearing a black suit that covered most of his body, save for his face, which had its own covering of a deep red mask. He didn’t smile like the others had so far. Not even a polite half-smile of acknowledgment. Just sat down in one of the chairs that looked like it might prove to be a little too small.

Dr. Shelby had been so focused on keeping his expression steady while watching the masked member of the group that he hadn’t noticed one final member sneak in through the door and sit on the other side of the circle. He had an oversized alarm clock clutched in one hand, a paper bag in the other and a steady, intense smile in Dr. Shelby’s direction. Though his face was just as covered in red, he seemed to be the exact opposite of the stoic masked member.

“I think that’s everyone,” the man holding the door declared, taking one last glance down the hall before starting to let it go. He was intercepted by a gloved hand pushing back against the door.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” A final member slid in, face covered in white and black paint and a long leather coat stretching to his ankles. “All the hallways here look the same.”

“We had that problem too,” the man holding open the door nodded. “Kept walking around in circles trying to find the room. And it didn’t get much easier after the flyer got a hole burnt through it right where the room number was listed.”

“I said I was sorry,” the masked member grumbled.

Oh God, he burnt things unintentionally?

“Don’t worry about it, you’re all on time,” Dr. Shelby interjected, hoping to avoid any conflict between the members before the meeting had even technically started.

The final two men took their seats. Six? Not a bad turnout. Might as well get started.

“Welcome everyone, my name is Dr. Shelby.” A collection of polite nods came his way. “Now, you’re all here because you face the same struggle every day and you wanted to meet people like you. Am I right so far?” Everyone nodded again. “Good. I’ve led a lot of support groups just like these and almost everyone in them has felt major improvements knowing that they have a safe place to share their feelings every week. Why don’t we go around the circle and introduce ourselves and share what brings us here?”

It was always a risky move. Especially with brand-new groups. Some of them were bound to be a little more shy or wouldn’t really want to participate until they felt more comfortable with the other members. Dr. Shelby hoped there would at least be one outgoing one amongst them.

Dr. Shelby knew he wasn’t masking his fear very well. He’d perfected the perpetual smile; it was necessary when leading support groups, but he couldn’t always control his eyes.

The group all looked amongst themselves before the man in the sweater held up his hand.

“I can get the ball rolling,” he smiled, standing up. “My name is Bray and for the last few months, my body gets periodically taken over by my dark half named The Fiend, an entity whose sole objective is to cause as much pain and suffering to those around him as physically possible.”

“Thank you, Bray,” he tried to say with as even a voice as possible. “Who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” the girl smiled, standing up with a flounce. “My name’s Alexa and this is Lilly.” She spun the doll around to reveal the most grotesque face Dr. Shelby had ever seen. He wasn’t certain from across the circle, but it looked like the teeth sewn into the mouth were real. “The Fiend showed me the way into the darkness, and Lilly took it from there.”

This is normal for them. It’s not going to help anyone here if you start looking like you’re scared.

But darn, is that doll ever creepy.

The man with the red face paint stood up next.

“I’m the Boogeyman!” He grinned with wide eyes, looking around at each member of the circle erratically. It was only as he began to move around that Dr. Shelby noticed the paper bag he was clutching seemed to be dripping some kind of dark liquid.

“Thank you for introducing yourself… Boogeyman. If it’s not too personal, do you mind if I ask what’s in your bag there?”

“Worms.”

“Worms?”

Boogeyman unrolled the bag and pulled out a handful of dirt-covered, very much alive earthworms before shoving said handful into his mouth. No one around the circle seemed all that disgusted. Like it was a regular Tuesday evening for them. Except for the man with the white face paint who seemed like he was as pale as a ghost underneath.

“I’ll, uh, that’s fine for this week, Boogeyman, but I’ll please ask you to leave your… worms at home next week. We’re not really supposed to have food in this room to keep it peanut-free,” Dr. Shelby explained, holding back the sick feeling knotting his stomach. “But if anyone is thirsty, I’ve got bottles of water and juice boxes on the back table. Feel free to help yourselves.”

Boogeyman nodded and carefully put his worms back into his bag as he sat down. The man with the white face paint immediately raised his hand.

“Yes, your name is…”

“I think I might be in the wrong place.”

Dr. Shelby looked him over. He didn’t look eerily normal like Bray, and he didn’t seem to have brought a bag of worms as a snack. Looked like he fell somewhere in between.

“You seem like you’re in the right place. This is Eldritch Horrors Anonymous; I don’t know where else you’d be tonight.”

The man’s expression changed from nerves to sheepish understanding. “I thought this was Troubled Goths Anonymous. I couldn’t find the flyer and followed Boogeyman in. My mistake.”

Dr. Shelby nodded understandingly. “Right room, wrong day. Troubled Goths Anonymous is Monday nights.”

The man stood to leave with his hands up apologetically. “It was great to meet you all, but I don’t belong here. Best of luck to you… eldritch horrors.”

“Oh, be careful when you come back on Monday. That’s also when they host Troubled Punks Anonymous. Very similar groups, but people seem to have very strong preferences of one over the other.”

The man nodded and left the room as Dr. Shelby turned back to the remaining members. “Some of you came here from those groups, right?”

“Troubled Punks Anonymous kicked me out a few days ago,” Bray sighed, his perpetual smile dropping for a moment. Everyone murmured their sympathy and Alexa patted him on the knee. “It’s alright, though," he continued. "You all seem like a much better fit so far.”

“That’s the point of this group,” Dr. Shelby smiled. “Now who’s next?”

The man in the leather jacket looked towards the man in the mask before shrugging and standing.

“M’name’s Finn. Sometimes the rage o’ battle brings out the Demon King Bálor from within me ‘n with the openin’ o’ his great eye, enemies are laid to waste a’ his feet,” he explained, about as casually as one would talk about what they did over the weekend.

“Glad to have you here, Finn.” It was getting easier to digest the stories of the people around him as he heard more. Maybe he’d even be able to hear the last one without faking the comfort of his smile. “And last, but certainly not least…” He turned towards the masked man expectedly. There was no smile, polite or otherwise. But he also didn’t seem like he was hesitating because he was shy. Just… grumpy.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself if you don’t feel comfortable, but we’re still a small group and as far as I can tell, all very friendly,” Dr. Shelby pushed a little further. The other members nodded in agreement. Even Boogeyman, who had snuck another worm from his bag into his mouth.

“Fine,” he grumbled, standing up. “I’m Kane. I’m the devil’s favorite demon. I grew up in a basement, suffering severe psychological and emotional scarring when my brother set my parents on fire. From there, I shifted around a series of mental institutions until I was grown, at which point I buried my brother alive... twice. Since then, I’ve set a couple of people on fire and abducted various co-workers. Oh, and I once electrocuted a man’s testicles. Years ago, I had a girlfriend named Katie, but let’s just say that didn’t turn out so well. My real father is a man named Paul Bearer who I recently trapped in a meat locker. I’ve been married, divorced, broke up my ex wife’s wedding and attacked the priest and for reasons never quite explained, I have an unhealthy obsession with torturing Pete Rose.”

Okay, maybe they can get weirder.

“Thank you… Kane.” He paused a moment before remembering back to the list that he’d been given a few days before. “That name sounds familiar; I think I was told to expect you, but they said you might be coming with your brother.”

“Probably won’t happen.”

“Why not? Is he not an eldritch horror?”

“He is. He just won’t come. Has better things to do.”

“Like what?”

“He said ‘watching paint dry’.”

“Maybe when you see him again, you can tell him we’re more fun than watching paint dry,” Alexa suggested, bouncing Lilly on her lap.

“That’s right. And that goes for all of you,” Dr. Shelby mentioned. “If anyone knows someone who might need a support group like this, go ahead and invite them. This isn’t Fight Club; it doesn’t have to be secret.”

The group chuckled a little at his attempt at a joke. Even Kane cracked a small smile.

Dr. Shelby relaxed a little in his seat. These people might dress strangely and have bizarre interests, diets and backstories, but deep down, they were just like anyone else. Maybe he could help them after all.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 13

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

His dark chocolate eyes appeared above yours, a soft look in them. He kissed you long and slow, and then you heard him whisper, “But she’ll never catch me, sweetheart. You already got me.”

You gave a low laugh, “You are such a big sap, Russo!”

He laughed back, eyes crinkling up at the corners, “Ssssh! Don’t keep sayin’ that, angel! You’re ruinin’ my rep,” before kissing you again.

He pulled back, eyes gazing into yours, “Wanna pick up where we left off? Before we got rudely interrupted?” You smiled, “Might do.” He unwrapped his towel with a flourish and threw it onto the floor. Your eyes slowly roamed over his masterpiece of a body, and excitement sparked in your veins.

“Don’t mind when you look,” smirked Billy, but then an angry scowl flitted across his face. He looked away from you, “You know when she was stood in front of me?” he looked back as you nodded, “She was looking at me like I was a prime fillet. Covered my equipment cos she was starin’ right at it.”

He leant back as you sat up, saying angrily, “Yeah, I saw you! - that was why?!!! I thought you were reverting to ‘Marine’. Or something.” You huffed out a big breath, “That!... that....!” you were momentarily lost for words. Billy smiled at you, and laid his hand on your cheek, “Yeah, that was why. Look, forget I mentioned it, I just got pissed off again and shouldn’t’ve said anythin’. C’mon, angel - c’mere.”

You let yourself get folded into Billy’s arms, and settled yourself back down on the pillows. Feeling his lips on your neck, you put your head back slightly to give him better access. Those sensuous lips travelled down onto your collarbone, and your eyes closed in pleasure as he nipped at your skin before licking it slowly. His mouth made its way slowly but surely to your breasts, paying close attention to your nipples as it went, circling them with that tongue of his and then sucking until you gasped out little breaths in quick succession.

You were already as wet as the ocean and he’d hardly touched you. Long fingers trailed over your pussy before two pushed inside you, and a very long moan escaped your lips. Billy’s mouth was at your ear, whispering, “D’you like that, angel? How about this?” A third finger joined the other two and you felt the stretch immediately, giving a little squeal, then his thumb was rubbing your clit so firmly you just couldn’t be quiet.... at all.

Then Billy was slinking his way down your body, tongue trailing over you, the feeling of his scratchy beard against your inner thighs announcing the arrival of his head between your legs. Oh my, your brain screeched, this is gonna be very... ! His tongue joined in with all the other action below decks, and your brain fizzled up like a sparkler somebody’d just lit before it could finish the thought.

You grabbed two large handfuls of Billy’s hair and pulled on it for all you were worth, hearing a muffled chuckle from below. “Angel,” you heard next, his voice husky and breathless, “....watch the hair, huh?!” But needless to say, you ignored him. His tongue returned to the fray, and before you could even tug on his hair again your orgasm hit. You felt like you were about to pass out, seeing stars, then could hear a voice chanting his name over and over like a mantra. Oh okay, that was you. You tried to shut your mouth up but it just kept going.

Finally, your head sank right back into the pillows and a long, slow exhalation of breath left your lungs. Billy sat up after flicking his tongue over your pussy and thighs, carefully gathering up all of your juices before smirking at you as you stared back at him, still dazed. He was just getting his breath back, “Did your boyfriend eat you out till you were breathless, sweetheart? Hmmm? Is he a good boyfriend?” You nodded, still not really able to collate your thoughts into words. “Can’t speak, huh? I think your boyfriend needs a really big reward for that. But first he’s gonna give you somethin’ else to think ‘bout.”

His hard length was between your thighs in a heartbeat and he’d assertively guided himself inside you before you could take another breath. Your feet drew up until they were flat on the bed, knees raising themselves of their own accord. The intense feelings of pleasure rolled over you like breakers on the beach. Billy took hold of your ankles, balancing them on his shoulders with his hands going to your hips, pulling you even closer to him, kissing you passionately. One hand came up and laid itself on your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. Your mouths parted and his forehead gently touched yours, then he began moving on you, setting a furious pace with his thrusting.

You gripped his biceps to start with, before heading back to your favourite place - his hair. Running your fingers through it, that made you happy for a little while until you grabbed some with each hand. Over the sighs and moans both of you were making, you heard a low laugh from Billy, “Gettin’ ready to pull my hair, angel?” You gasped as he thrust deeply while he spoke, then ground out “Yeah I am and you can just shut up, Russo,” between your teeth. “Don’t...” he said, breaking off to softly grunt as he thrust at the same time, “...leave me with bald patches, goddess,” he finished.

Which was just as well, because you thought he’d been about to tell you not to pull his hair! That would’ve been a very dangerous thing for Billy to do, ex-Marine or not. So you immediately began to tug on said hair, which brought great contentment to your soul, and you heard Billy’s soft laugh as you did so.

“M’gonna...come, angel,” you heard next, wrapped up in a breathy moan. His hand went to your clit, all the while hitting your sweet spot with each stroke. You could feel your climax building and building, and gave his hair one last loving pull as the orgasm slammed you. Billy fastened his teeth onto your neck where it met your shoulder and bit down, not too hard but still enough to make you yelp, and you felt him tense against you as he came. He collapsed onto you, huffing as he caught his breath before lowering your trembling legs to the bed. He rested his forehead on yours, kissing your nose.

“Holy hell,” he whispered, “that was mind-blowin’, angel.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The two of you slept a little late the next morning, having a leisurely shower together before ordering a big breakfast to the room, your appetites being very healthy indeed after your exercise regime the previous night. The plates and coffee cups were soon clean as whistles.

You were lying on the bed, busy having a giggling fit as Billy peered into the big mirror while angling his head and parting his hair this way and that.

“I swear, angel, if I find even the tiniest bald patch....” but his eyes, meeting yours in the mirror, were twinkling with suppressed laughter. “Oh, Russo...” you gasped, breathless from laughing, “...you really are a big dork!” “Hey... this head of hair’s my crownin’ glory! If any’s missin’, I’ll need to get weaves! An’ you can pay for them!”

You had just launched into more giggles, when there was a loud knock at the door, followed by a gruff “S’Frank, open up Bill.” Scrambling to get into your hotel robe - which you’d earlier dropped on the floor so that Billy could smooth the hotel’s complimentary high-end body lotion over every inch of you - he started heading for the door but was looking over at you with a raised eyebrow. You hastily tied the belt round your waist and nodded at him. Luckily Billy had already been in his robe.

“Bill!” came Frank’s voice again, “...get your lazy ass out of bed and open the door!” “Yeah, yeah, Frankie,” Billy yelled back as he reached the door.

But then you noticed that Billy was holding a big black gun behind his back. Oh. Right. The seriousness of the situation last night came back to you, and a little splice of fear ran through you. But soon a big bear of a man was striding into the room, and him and Billy were exchanging manly shoulder grips. Yeah, you would guess they wouldn’t exactly be ‘huggy’ types. Then you saw Karen following in his wake with a big smile on her face, and you jumped up and rushed over to hug her.

Billy introduced you to Frank, and you returned the favour for him and Karen. More coffees were ordered, along with some toast (you were still peckish, okay?) and you all lounged around and chatted while you waited. The guys still couldn’t tell you two very much about the ‘op’, and Karen soon decided to start in on Billy.

“So, Billy,” she began, and he politely turned his head towards her, “....everything still fully intact downstairs?” nodding towards his crotch. Frank snorted, while Billy’s mouth opened and closed, then he looked beseechingly over at you, eyes wide, while you tried not to burst out laughing. Billy had actually gone quite pink, and you found this hilarious. Karen was a past master at this of course, ace reporter that she was. And you hadn’t seen or updated her since the Lunch Incident, so you relented and replied, “Yes, he still has all his equipment, Karen. Luckily for him, Billy was able to explain the situation to my satisfaction, otherwise he might’ve indeed been missing a couple of appendages at this moment.”

Frank snorted again, and Billy shot him an annoyed look before saying, “It was a misunderstandin’, Karen, an’ I fully explained it all.” You added, “He’d been stringing her along so these two were kept in the loop about the case. But then she came to the Chelsea café twice the next day, the second time to interrogate me about me and Billy’s relationship...” Frank butted in, smirking, “Never thought I’d hear the words ‘Billy’ and ‘relationship’ in the same sentence, lemme tell ya!” “Frankie!” yelled Billy, “look, will you all just stop givin’ me a hard time here!”

You and Karen grinned at each other, before you carried on, “So... during this little chat she was having with me, she told me her and Billy were dating.” Karen said, “No way!” “Yeah, she did. Obviously she was there just to find out what was going on between me and Billy! I went home afterwards, and Billy was still at his office. She headed straight over there and basically jumped him! He shoved her away and she fell over on her butt.” You all shared a grin at that. “Billy came over to mine and told me all about it.”

“Yeah,” put in Billy, “and then we both came over here the day of the op, and uhh... we were a little busy... I’m sure you know what I mean, when she came bustin’ in on us using a master key, then just stood watchin’ us for fuck knows how long. So I yelled at her to fuck off and she went.” His face was pink-tinged again, and he continued, “Then she turned up again last night, but knocked this time which was somethin’ I s’pose. Looked me over like a piece of meat cos I just had a towel wrapped round me.” He shook his head, “She’s unreal. Got a few screws loose,” twirling a finger next to his temple.

Karen smiled at him, “Nah, Billy - not crazy as such, but a woman scorned, y’know? Just think about it for a second. You must’ve really got her all stirred up, and then BAM!”, she yelled, and Billy jumped a little, “...you shut her down so fast her head must’ve been spinning.” He looked suitably chastised, and glanced guiltily over at you. “Now my girl here,” she carried on, pointing at you, “...when she saw you in that restaurant with another woman, she was gonna shut you down faster’n a jet engine on landing. Totally different approach with her. No stalking, no contact, no jumping you, she would’ve just cut your balls off and walked away.”

Billy squirmed in his armchair, looking wide-eyed at you. Even Frank looked slightly uncomfortable. “You know, you’re really lucky she gave you a second chance, Billy.” He gulped a little, “I know... I do know that, Karen. I was so dumb to string Madani along like that, but she made it obvious she was interested, so y’know, I...” he spread out his arms, “...thought I’d use it to my advantage and make sure we were kept in the loop.” He again looked over at you, regretfully, “Yeah, not my finest hour.”

But Karen still wasn’t finished, you could tell by the look on her face - “Relentless Terrier with Bone.”

“Would you have gone so far as to sleep with her?” she shot at him. Billy slouched back in his seat and looked down at his fingers, which were fidgeting in his lap. You knew that Karen was just trying to - she thought - get you some honest answers, but you decided it was time to bale him out. Billy looked like he was under attack from all angles, he wasn’t used to her interrogatory style. If it had been back in his Marine days, about a mission or troop movements or suchlike, it would’ve been a cakewalk for him, no doubt. But this was about relationships and feelings - not familiar territory for Billy in the slightest.

“We discussed that, K,” you replied to her, “..and yeah, he would have. For sure.”

“Before I met her,” Billy quickly added with an apologetic smile at you, before saying, “And before I met her, yeah - I’ll admit I would’ve sat back and let her jump my bones when she came visitin’ me at Anvil.”

You caught sight of Frank’s amazed face. He was looking at Billy as if he’d just fallen clear out of the sky into that armchair. His eyes suddenly met yours and you grinned at him, and he shook his head, laughing over at you, “Wow. Russo’s whipped!” “Shut it, Frankie,” grumbled Billy, but he had a small shit-eating grin on his face.

There was a knock at the door as the coffee and toast arrived, and Billy leapt up to answer it, looking relieved to be off the ‘witness stand.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A couple of hours later, checkout completed, the four of you split up to head off in your various different directions.

You to Chelsea, Karen to a meeting uptown with a ‘source’ as she termed it, and the two guys to Homeland’s HQ for their final meeting with The Scorned Woman - as she would now forever be known to you and Karen - and which they couldn’t wait to get over and done with.

Billy - very aware of Frank and Karen watching as well as smirking close by - almost shyly pulled you to him and kissed you softly. However he couldn’t help himself and fairly soon his kiss became much more heated, one big hand snaking round the back of your neck as he nuzzled his face closer to yours. The two of you pulled apart eventually to a round of wolf whistles and catcalls from your so-called ‘friends’.

Billy was chuckling and running a hand distractedly through his hair as he let go of you. You flipped the two of them an affectionate finger along with a smile just as you spotted your Uber drawing to a halt outside the hotel entrance, and made a hasty exit into it, stage left.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Madani looked across her desk, firstly at Castle, then after a moment let her gaze slide over to Russo, lingering on him. He looks just divine today, she thought. She took in his shiny immaculate hair, sullen face, dark seductive eyes, sensual mouth and angular jaw covered with his trademark light beard. It looked to her like he’d shaved it down just a little bit - not that it had ever been thick - but she could definitely see more of his jawline. She watched as his long fingers slotted and unslotted themselves, his hands resting on the desktop. She then observed that he was dressed in a leather jacket, grey t-shirt, pair of black jeans and combat boots. Everything about the tall marine just screamed ‘sex’, she mused.

A tiny shiver went through her as she imagined those fingers running over her body, and despite the case being more or less closed, she knew she wouldn’t be giving up on this apparently lost cause anytime soon. She’d find some excuse about missing evidence or statements to call him back in, or something along those lines. He was too good a catch to let him escape, and she wasn’t prepared to allow that to happen. And Dinah Madani, as anyone who knew or worked with her soon found out, was one very determined lady.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

[breanime]

Theoretically if rio's cute neighbour, the one that watched his son, was being harassed by an ex or just some creepy guy. What would rio do?

So you can find the first neighbor headcannon list here. Also, this headcannon list got long as hell... haha, sorry?

*gif not mine*

Rio had been out of town for the last week, handling business

He’d texted you to let you know he’d be back soon--

--partly to be a good neighbor, and partly cause he wanted to see you

The two of you weren’t dating, but there was definitely something between you

(sexual tension)

And Rio was eager to see where it would go

He walked down the hall to his apartment, his bag slung over his shoulder, glad to be back in his own space

Then he saw your door

The wood was cracked, as if someone had punched it or something, and Rio stopped dead in his tracks

He knocked on your door, eyebrows knitted

You answered with a bat in your hands

“Huh...” Rio said, eyes roaming your body--from your tense posture to the bat in your hands to the tired, exhausted look in your eyes. “... Rough week without me, mama?”

“Oh, Rio,” you sighed, and Rio watched your body relax, “Sorry. I was just--”

“Expecting someone else?” He asked, walking into your apartment. 

He dropped his bag at the foot of the couch and turned to you, frowning

Rio watched as you locked both locks on the door behind him; he’d been in your place about 100 times now, and he’d never seen you do that before

“Yeah, kind of...” You answered. “How was your trip?”

“Fine,” he answered, sticking his hands in his pockets, “but I don’t wanna talk about that right now. Let’s talk about you.” He titled his head. “What’s going on here?”

You sighed again, and Rio wanted to hold you. You were stressed, and he longed to fix it

“I’ve just...” You crossed your arms, hugging yourself. “I don’t want to bother you with it.”

Rio took a few steps forward, until he was in front of you. He eyed you seriously. Someone so beautiful, he thought, shouldn’t look so sad. Not when he was around to help. 

“Bother me,” he said softly, his voice firm but low

“Last year...” You began, looking down. “...I dated this guy, and he was just...” You shook your head. “He was an ass. We broke up, and I never heard from him again... till a week ago... The night before you left.��

Rio’s eyes narrowed; he remembered that night. He’d taken you out for drinks before his trip, spending the night smiling and laughing with you. He’d gotten a call in the middle of it, and when he came back to the table, he saw a man walking away. But you hadn’t said anything about it, and you seemed fine, so he didn’t ask about it.

“The guy from the restaurant...” Rio said, nodding to himself. “That’s your ex.”

“He saw us out, and when you stepped away, he came up to me--but all he did was say hi. He wasn’t weird or aggressive or anything,” you said back, “But then he... I guess he found out where I lived...”

“Yeah,” Rio licked his lips, “that his handy work on the door?”

“Yeah,” you nodded back, “Every day since that night, he’s been calling me nonstop and showing up here, pounding on the door. I called the cops, but they said there’s nothing they can do unless he actually hurts me, so--”

“I got you,” Rio said, grabbing his bag 

He turned to go, but you held onto his arm.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked, eyes wide.

He looked down at you

On one hand, he could lie to you, keep up the polite charade that he made his money the legal way, that his business was simply in “providing capital” like he’d told you once before. The two of you hadn’t ever explicitly discussed what he did, but Rio knew you knew his vague descriptions of his business were just that: pointedly vague

But on the other hand... he could tell you the truth. Maybe you’d be cool with it.

Or maybe you’d shy away and turn from him. 

Either way, he was going to handle this for you, but he couldn’t deny--

--he wanted you to be ok with it. With him. For some reason, as Rio looked down at you, he saw something special, something that made him feel protective of you, something beyond the lust and friendly affection he had for you

When he looked at you, he saw a partner

 “I’ma tell him that the next time he so much glances up at this apartment,” Rio answered evenly, “I’m gonna put a bullet between his eyes. And if he doesn’t like that, I’ll put him down then and there.”

“You... You’d do that for me?” You asked, pretty eyes wide

“I’d of had this handled already if you would’ve told me before,” he confessed, reaching out to cup your face in his hand, “but since I’m here now, I’ll handle it personally.” He leaned down, his mouth just inches from yours. Rio wanted to kiss you so badly, he felt the desire in every part of him with you so close. “Stay here,” he told you, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

He didn’t move, though, and neither did you.

Your hand flexed on his bicep, wanting to bring him even closer. “Rio, I...thank you.”

He smirked. “Don’t thank me yet.” He leaned in closer, about to say something else

And then you kissed him

Rio had kissed a lot of women in his life (a lot...like a lot a lot...)

But never had a pair of lips felt so good against his own. 

Rio’s arms wrapped around you, and he silently marveled at how perfectly you fit against him. He titled his head, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you moaned into him. 

Chuckling, Rio’s hands went to your waist, and he led you towards the couch

You took a hold of his collar and dragged him down onto the couch with you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he laid on top of you

“Baby,” he chuckled into your lips, “I gotta go.”

“I know,” you said back, grinning, “I just need a few more minutes...”

He laughed. “For what?” He asked, even as he dipped his head down to start kissing your neck. The little sounds you made when his lips ghosted against your skin were driving him wild. 

...the ex might have to wait a bit.

Rio was kissing your collarbones while lifting up your shirt when a loud band sounded behind him

You jumped, but Rio just turned lazily, one eyebrow raised

“It’s him,” you whispered, and when Rio looked down at you, he could see the fear in your eyes

This, he decided, would be the last time you would ever look like that

“Relax,” he said, his voice low and calm. He leaned down and kissed you sweetly, and he felt you relax under his touch. “I got this. Just stay here,  mi bonita chica.”

Rio got up, kissing the top of your head as you sat up, and reached down into his bag.

“Y/N,” the banging was louder now, “I’m not playing with you--open this damn door right now!”

Rio grinned--it would be his pleasure

Rio opened the door and leaned on the doorway, a lazy smirk on his face. “Hey,” he greeted the man, “you know this is a private residence?”

The man blinked, taking a step back, and Rio chuckled. He knew this type: big, loud, and bad--until someone badder came around. 

“Wh--what the hell are you doing here...?” The man asked, craning his neck to try to peek into the apartment. 

“Yo,” Rio stood up straight, shaking his head, “What you lookin’ for? Huh?” He stepped up, and your ex stepped back again. “Y/N?” He asked. “She ain’t your concern no more, homie. I am.”

“I--I don’t--”

“Oh,” Rio chuckled, “That’s right, I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself.” He whipped out his gun, pointing it directly at the guy’s paling face. “I’m Rio. I’m the man Y/N’s currently seeing, and she wanted me to let you know that this shit,” he waved the gun, the smile no longer on his face, and the man backed up into the wall, eyes wide with terror, “Is done with. You stop callin’, you stop comin’ around, and you definitely stop trying to intimidate her into talkin’ to you. Matter of fact,” Rio went on, “the next time you see her, you better get the fuck away, cause if I hear about you even breathing in the same space as her again,” he stepped up and pressed the golden gun into the guy’s forehead, “I can’t promise I’ll stay this controlled. Is that understood?”

The ex nodded, looking like a bobblehead with his huge eyes “I---”

“No no no,” Rio smiled, “don’t speak.” He glanced back at you, you were standing in front of the couch now, watching. “You got any cash on you?”

He nodded

“Great,” Rio said brightly, “let’s see it.”

The guy reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, handing it over to Rio

“Mm...” Rio eyed his ID, memorizing the name and address for later use. “This looks like just enough to cover the cost of repairing the door,” he said, taking out a wad of bills, “and a lil extra for emotional damage.”

Rio threw the wallet back at your ex, who caught it, eyes never leaving the gun in Rio’s hand

“Okay now...” Rio grinned. “Run.”

He didn’t have to say it twice, your ex scurried away so quickly, that he fell half-way down the hall and just crawled into the elevator. If Rio didn’t know any better, he’d say he smelt piss in the hall now...

Rio closed your door, tossing the gun--which was empty--onto his bag on the floor

He turned to you, laughing when you launched yourself into his arms

“Thank you,” you said, your head buried in his chest, “thank you, thank you, thank you--”

“I told you,” he said, smiling down at you, “I got you. And yo, I was thinkin’...” He held up the cash. “...why don’t you use this on some self-defense lessons, just for fun?”

“But what about the door?”

“Ah, baby,” he leaned down, kissing you, “that’s what we got a super for!”

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

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