#when I tell you I audibly gasped when he dropped that line

[fangirls-just-want-to-have-fun]

Brennan is just fucking with us at this point because what do you mean in the the span of less than twenty minutes he both made the conscious decision to have Evan snuggle with Sam (and thus that ENTIRE scene) and then also dropped the line "There are things that are so worth protecting that they are worth killing for." I know he knows DAMN WELL

[sleepyangelkami]

ONE DRUNKEN NIGHT b.blake

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.6K

BELLAMY BLAKE X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - the group gets a little easy with the booze, leaving you sloppy and drunk, falling over your own two feet onto your boyfriends lap.

 ☆ WARNINGS - alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, slurring words, finn + clark (idk their ship name lol), reader menioned shorter than bellamy, nudity (not sexual), petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the smell of liquor and booze suddenly filled the nostrils of bellamy blake. though it were all around him, even in his own glass that he was drinking out of.

he'd drank quite a bit more than you, still keeping his composure while you tripped over your own two feet.

perhaps that was the very difference between you two.

the boy's lips quirked up at the sight of you, sloppily trying to make your way over to him. you had a smile on your face, cheeks tinged a pink due to the heat and your feet criss crossed over each other, unable to walk in a straight line.

however, it didn't take long for you to crash in your boyfriends lap, grinning as he used the hand that wasn't holding his cup to wrap around your waist. "hi." you giggled, pretty smile on display.

"hi, princess." he grinned back. he was spinning though only slightly. he'd built up a tolerance for alcohol whereas this was perhaps only your second time drinking ever.

your hands pawed at him, holding him as close as you could. bellamy discovered such from the first time that you'd gotten drunk, you quite liked to be as close as humanly possible to him.

your lips met just below his ear, smiling and puffing out a giggle while trying to muster the words, "'m a little drunk." unable to keep your composure for the sentence seemed to be the funniest thing you'd heard all day.

"mm, i can see that." though he didn't seem angry or annoyed with you. on the contrary, his eyes traced your face even when you couldn't keep it still, smile dancing on his lips.

a campfire surrounded you all, a bonfire, if you will. everyone messed around with one another, jumping on each others backs, yelling out and drinking booze, probably not the best way to spend the resources in a time like this but no one seemed to care.

if you were to be trapped on earth without adults, things were bound to go wrong.

he watched as you nuzzled into him, almost like a dog. his hands soothed against your waist, dropping his glass on the cement next to his thigh, hands against your body, lulling you softly. "now, who let my girl drink all that booze?"

your head popped up again, the slyest grin on your face. "i can't tell you."

the boy feigned offence, lips parting but by the smile still unwavering, you could tell he wasn't truly offended. "you're keeping secrets? how could you?" his hands dropped down, gently squeezing at your waist and making you yelp with a drunken giggle. "tell me baby, who's responsible?"

you grinned, a whisper leaving your lips. "octavia."

he wouldn't have expected anything else.

his lips parted again. "octavia?"

but you pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him while he tried to stifle his laughter at you. "shh." you spoke. "she'll hear and she'll know i told. have to keep it a secret." you unformed him, slurring your words.

"a secret?" he whispered back, large hand engulfing your smaller one by his lips, slowly retracting it from his face.

you hummed, nodding.

"can i tell you another secret?" your voice was below a whisper, barely audible but he was so close that he could hear you just fine, even behind all the screaming belonging to the others. he slowly nodded, awaiting your secret. "i saw clarke and finn kissing!" he gasped again, watching your eyes light up as he took interest in what you were saying.

it was the little things, egging on this type of conversation, entertaining the drunken idea of things. it was those things that made you so engulfed by him.

he could see you on the back of jasper jordan, yelling out and holding around his neck or jumping to a song with monty, hands in hands. there was no jealousy behind bellamy's adoring eyes. for he knew, no matter what, you would always come back to him.

"but―" you were cut off with a hiccup. "but you can't tell anyone because clarke will kill me." you pressed a finger to your neck, dragging it across as if you were having your head chopped off.

"she can try." he answered back, arms suddenly wrapping around you. "but she'll have to get through me first." you squealed as the boy hoisted you up, standing on his own and carrying you with him while you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "y'gonna dance with me, sweetheart?"

your feet dropped onto the floor, distant sound of the group making songs by singing and tapping their feet against the ground, clapping even, doing whatever it was to make the sound of music flow through the camp.

you tilted your head at him, straining your neck to look up with a smile. "thought you don' dance."

he tilted his own chin upwards. "something must have persuaded me."

"wonder what." you grinned.

"wonder what." he repeated.

your hand was already in his, dragging him towards the middle where the rest of the group stood, dancing and singing (horribly, i may add). but it didn't matter to anyone, all that mattered was the smiles littering across everyone's faces.

bellamy took your hand in his, twisting it above your head and twirling you. you were grinning, a giggling mess as you danced with the boy who'd swore he'd never dance with a girl ever.

something about that night would forever be engraved in your brain. even after you two separated into the crowd, bellamy's eyes never left your pretty face. jasper had you stuck between he and monty, everyone had formed this kind of circle, leaving bellamy at the other side next to miller. you jumped up and down, as did the rest of the group, chanting a song that would forever be framed in your memory.

it wasn't until the party had began to dull down and the singing quietened and the booze drained that bellamy finally had you in his hold again.

people still cheered and danced though at least half had left.

nobody could even be angry with the others who continued to sing until all hours of the morning, all they could do is wish they had the same energy as them.

speaking of which, your energy had gotten over it's spike, dropping to the ground as bellamy lead you back to your shared tent.

blankets were littered about the tent, tattered up mattress on the ground where he gently laid you down, stripping himself of his shirt. next, he knelt down against the bed. "c'mon, princess, help me get this off."

with the slightest of whines, you sat up on the bed, helping him strip you of your clothes. you found it was better to sleep nude and not sweat in your clothes anymore than you had to. "like when you call me that." your eyes were struggling to stay open, words a whisper.

"yeah?" a smile spread across his cheeks. they'd hurt hard from the entire night, smiling so much until they ached. and you were the entirety of the reason.

"mhm." you placed your head against his bare chest as he slipped off your cotton socks. "like a lot about you."

he rolled his eyes at this, never being one for taking compliments. "yeah, like my awesome dancing?"

he climbed into the bed, allowing your head to sit on his chest as his fingers gently danced down the delicate skin of your spine. "you don' dance." a yawn left your lips, silence becoming ever more apparent throughout the camp. "but you did because you wanted to make me happy. y'sweet like that."

he knew it was both the tiredness and the drunkeness talking but the softness of your tone, pretty words falling from your lips, the genuineness of your words was enough to have him holding his bottom lip between his teeth, fighting another smile of the night.

"y'think 'm sweet?" he questioned to which you hummed, nodding. "i think you're the sweetest girl the world has to offer."

your chin landed on his chest, tilting your head up to look at him, you swore his eyes sparkled when he looked at you. he swore yours did too. "i have another secret."

"yeah?" tilting his head at you. "tell me."

and you didn't miss a beat, your tone never wavered. there was nothing but absolute certainty in your voice when you spoke the soft words, "i love you."

his lips reached down as if on command, pressing against your own. he swore you were the softest being there was. he sometimes wondered how you could love something as rough and tattered as him. but that was how he knew, you didn't see him as such. a patch here and there, but through your eyes, everything was soft, beautiful. and he just so happened to be so lucky to be the centre of it.

"i love you too."

a sudden whistle of fabric was heard as you both turned upwards at the noise, brown curls falling into sight. bellamy, as if on command, quickly held the blanket further up your body so the intruder couldn't see you.

however, the 'intruder' soon proved to be jasper jordan who's goggles that usually sat on his forehead, now sat over his eyes. "oh, this isn't my tent." though he was giggling wildly. "are you guys reciting poetry?"

"what do you want, jasper?" bellamy's usually soft tone with you turned harder, deeper.

"look, can i just―" he was slurring his own words, hiccuping along the way. "can i just crash here with you guys?"

"no."

"no."

"well, you guys are lucky i know when i'm not wanted around."

and with another swish of fabric, the boy was gone.

you giggled into the chest of your lover. "i feel bad." you spoke truthfully.

"yeah." bellamy paid no mind, moving your body so that it sat against him, pushing your weight on him. "he'll get over it."

main masterlist/bellamy's masterlist

[daisymbin]

is it possible to request a combo from 2 of the suggestive prompts? 32 and 42 for mingyu x f!reader <3

yes you can!!! omg this is such a good combo...hopefully I did it justice 😅 thank you for requesting!!!

+ please MDNI!!!! this is quite...suggestive?

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

suggestive prompt #32: "I think we'd both be more comfortable if you took that off." +

suggestive prompt #42: "I love it when you get all worked up."

the apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of a glass. you were sitting on mingyu's bed at his parent's place, scrolling through your phone when mingyu came in; shirtless with a towel around his waist, his hair still damp from the shower. he looked at you for a moment, his eyes soft but intense.

you barely noticed him at first, too focused on whatever was on your screen, until you heard his voice—low and teasing. “you look good in that,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“hm?” you blinked, looking up to find him grinning at you. your eyes dropped to the loose, oversized t-shirt you were wearing. it wasn’t anything special, just something comfortable. “this old thing?”

mingyu nodded, pushing himself off the frame and walking toward you. “yeah.” his voice dropped an octave, and the way his eyes darken as they roamed your body made a shiver run down your spine.

you didn’t expect him to be so forward, not after just a simple shower. but his words stirred something in you. you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and desire swirling inside you.

“mingyu…” you started, feeling your pulse quicken as he moved closer. his hands brushed against the side of your knee as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. his lips hovered just inches from your ear, warm breath making you shiver.

“what?” he murmured, a playful glint in his eye. “don’t tell me you’re shy now.” his hands slid up your legs, his thumbs rubbing small circles on the inside of your thighs.

you let out a soft breath, unable to form a response as his lips traced the line of your jaw. your body was already betraying you, heart racing, breath hitching with every subtle touch. “mingyu, please,” you whispered, a mix of want and hesitation in your voice. “your parents- we can’t…”

“can’t what?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look you in the eye, his expression full of challenge and something more. “tell me what you want, baby.” his thumb brushed against your lower lip, making you lean into his touch without thinking.

you swallowed, the desire bubbling inside you. “i want you,” you whispered, barely audible.

“good,” mingyu muttered as he let out a small smile, his lips crashing against yours before you could say another word. his kiss was deep, heated, the kind that left you breathless and wanting more. his hands roamed over your body, slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your skin, sending sparks of heat wherever he touched.

his kisses grew more insistent as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together, the only thing separating you being the thin fabric of your clothes. you could feel the tension building between you, the way his hands kept finding their way to places they shouldn’t be.

“gyu…” you gasped, trying to catch your breath, but his lips moved to your neck, and you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped your lips.

“i love it when you get all worked up like this,” he said, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. “it drives me crazy.” his hands slid up to your back, tugging your shirt over your head as his hands move quickly; unhooking your bra effortlessly as if he’d done it a hundred times.

your breath hitched as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed to him. his eyes darkened, his pupils blown wide with lust as he took in the sight of you. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hands tracing your curves with an almost reverent touch.

you couldn’t help but lean into him, the heat between you both too much to ignore. “mingyu… we—”

“shh,” he cut you off with a soft press of his lips to yours, his body moving against yours in a way that made your thoughts scatter. his kisses were hot, demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and you were all too happy to give him more.

“i think we’d both be more comfortable if you took that off, don't you think?" mingyu said again, a playful smirk sneaks his way to the corner of his lips as his hands ran down your sides, tugging at your shorts.

you were about to protest, but before you could say anything, mingyu was kissing you again, his hands sliding down to your waist, tugging you closer. the moment felt too intense, too real, and you could feel every inch of him against you, every touch igniting something deep within.

his hands traveled lower, tracing the line of your hips, before pulling you onto his lap. your body shifted instinctively, feeling the heat from his chest radiating into yours, the tension crackling in the air between you.

“you have no idea how much i want you right now,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your ear as you tangled your fingers in his hair. you could feel the pulse of his heartbeat under your fingertips, the desire that was mirrored in your own.

“then show me,” you whispered, pressing your body closer to his.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Worrying about Kimi's debut at FP1..Everything went well for them until his crash. She was beside Toto with Jack when he crashed and instantly sought his comfort. Thanks!! :))

Hii guys, I hope you enjoy this request :)

The morning at Monza had dawned with an intensity that felt different from any other race weekend. You stood in the Mercedes motorhome, looking out at the bustling paddock, and felt an unfamiliar tension knotting in your stomach. You knew the whole team could sense it—Toto’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than usual, his face a mix of concern and quiet determination, and Jack, always so confident, kept glancing your way with a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Today was Kimi’s debut in FP1. The weight of the moment wasn’t lost on anyone, especially you. Kimi was like a son to you, and watching him prepare to step into a Formula 1 car was both exhilarating and terrifying. The pressure he was under was immense, and though you had every confidence in his abilities, you couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at your heart.

Suddenly, your mind drifted to a memory from the day before.

It was late in the evening, and the two of you were alone in the motorhome. Kimi had been uncharacteristically quiet all day, and you could see the anxiety in his eyes. As he fiddled with a wrench, his usually steady hands trembled ever so slightly.

"Kimi," you said softly, moving to sit beside him, "can I tell you something?"

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on the tool in his hands.

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Everything is going to be alright. I know this is a lot, and I know how much you want to do well, but no matter what happens out there, I want you to know how proud we all are of you. I’m proud of you. We believe in you, Kimi. You’ve worked so hard for this, and you’ve earned your place here. Just go out there and do your best, and that will always be enough for us."

Kimi finally looked up, his eyes wide and glistening with emotion. For a moment, he looked so much younger than his years, like the boy you’d seen grow up over the years.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I just… I don’t want to let anyone down."

"You won’t," you assured him, your voice firm but gentle. "Whatever happens, we’ve got your back. Always."

Without another word, Kimi leaned in and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the nervous tension in his body slowly start to ease.

Back in the present, the memory brought a bittersweet smile to your face. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves. The team was gathered around, watching the screens as Kimi’s car roared out onto the track for his first practice session. You could feel Toto’s presence beside you, a quiet pillar of strength, his hand resting lightly on your back, offering silent support.

Jack stood on your other side, arms crossed, eyes glued to the monitors, his jaw set in concentration. You knew he was as invested in Kimi’s success as you were, and his unwavering confidence helped steady your own nerves.

As Kimi completed his first few laps, there was a palpable shift in the energy of the room. The data coming in looked promising, and a ripple of hopeful excitement spread through the team. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, your heartbeat slowing as you watched Kimi’s smooth driving, his lines precise and controlled.

But then, in an instant, everything changed.

On the screen, Kimi’s car suddenly veered off course, slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch. The sound of the impact seemed to echo in the motorhome, a collective gasp rising from the team.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and you felt all the air leave your lungs. “Oh my God, Kimi…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the commotion.

Toto was immediately at your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and calm, though you could see the worry etched on his face. “Let’s wait for the comms. They’re checking on him now.”

Jack quickly moved in front of you, his hands on your arms, his eyes searching yours with a reassuring intensity. “He’s tough, you know that. He’s going to be fine.”

The seconds felt like hours as you waited for any update. The team radio crackled to life, and you held your breath, your eyes locked on the screen.

“Kimi, are you okay?” came the concerned voice of Toto.

There was a brief pause, then a slightly shaky but determined reply: “Yeah, I’m okay. I… I’m sorry, I lost it there.”

You could hear the relief in Toto’s voice as he responded, “No need to apologize, Kimi. The important thing is that you’re alright. Let’s get you back to the garage.”

As the tension in the room began to ease, you felt your legs almost give way, but Toto and Jack were right there, steadying you.

Moments later, Kimi walked into the motorhome, a sheepish smile on his face. His suit was a bit scuffed, and there was a hint of a limp in his step, but he was otherwise unscathed.

Without a word, you rushed to him, pulling him into a tight hug, not caring about the grease or the dust. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Kimi hugged you back just as tightly, his own relief evident. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, but you shook your head, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, Kimi. You did great. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Toto stepped forward, placing a supportive hand on Kimi’s shoulder. “You showed a lot of courage out there today. You’ll learn from this, and you’ll come back stronger. We all believe in you.”

Jack nodded, grinning at Kimi. “Besides, it wouldn’t be racing without a few bumps and scrapes, right?”

Kimi chuckled, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he looked around at the faces of his team, his family. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The moment was full of warmth and camaraderie, a perfect reminder of why you all loved this sport so much. It wasn’t just about the cars or the races; it was about the people, the family you’d built together, and the unwavering support you had for one another, no matter what happened on the track.

[everyonewooeverywhere]

pairing ✭ yeosang x f!reader

synopsis ✭ needy yeosang gets his fill of you in the shower.

content/genre ✭ smut 18+ MDNI

word count ✭ 540

warnings ✭ smut, fingering (that's it this is pretty mild 😭)

notes ✭ hi~ enjoy~

✭ ✭ ✭

You knew something was…off with him today. Nothing seemed wrong or particularly alarming, but the way he hovered around you all day as you went through your daily routine was something you took note of.

When you finally took a moment to focus on him, he was visibly relieved. You relaxed on the couch after several hours of work and chores. His head was in your lap and you played with his hair while his closed his eyes, taking note of how he sharply inhaled every time you scratched his scalp.

“Sangie,” you whispered. You watched as his eyes fluttered open. He hummed in acknowledgment. “I need to shower. Do you wanna come with me?”

He was off your lap in an instant. “Of course.”

Showering together was nothing new for the two of you. Usually it was a nice, quiet moment of intimacy. He would wash your back and occasionally kiss your shoulders. But it very rarely crossed the line into sexual.

Today, though, the moment you were naked in the shower he was incredibly handsy. His rough hands pressed into your waist as he held you to his chest. You could feel how hard he was against your ass.

You couldn’t help my laugh softly as his desperation. “Baby,” you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, “Do you want to touch me?”

He was already very much touching you, but he knew you meant more the light caresses and embraces he had been giving out all day. Inhaling sharply, he nodded. “Please, my love, let me touch you.”

“Go ahead,” you whispered. Your soft voice barely audible over the sound of the shower running.

His hand fell from your waist and reached between your legs. He let out a shaky hum of satisfaction at how wet you were, from much more than just the shower water.

No time was wasted before he started playing with your clit. His formerly soft touches were full of purpose. He rolled the bud between his fingers because he loved to watch how your mouth would fall open when he did. 

Your head fell back against him. The more he played with you, the more clouded your mind became. His skillful fingers knew exactly which spots to hit to make you moan his name.

He loved to watch your pretty lips separate just encourage him and tell him exactly how good he was doing.

Oh, fuck baby. You’d gasp. Just like that. 

That’s so good, love.

I love when you touch me right there.

And when you finally cum all over his hand, he’s quick to wrap his strong arm around his waist to keep you from collapsing on your shaky legs.

You’re adamant on helping him out too, but he has to stop you from dropping to your knees in the shower.

He dries you off and helps you put on lotion. He wraps you in a fluffy robe before kissing you on the forehead. “Go wait in the bedroom, my love,” he tells you before drying himself off. He joins you in the room later when he’s completely clean because just his fingers are far from enough to show his angel how much he loves her.

[jishyucks]

My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs

‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader

‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 4.0k

‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay

‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!

Series Masterlist

It was weird seeing the office so empty. 

You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be. 

But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing. 

You wished it was usually like this. 

Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away. 

“Hey mom.”

“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.

“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it. 

“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up. 

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave. 

It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you. 

Because who in the world was here on Christmas? 

You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?

You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner. 

A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie. 

You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all. 

“Sir?” 

Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether. 

“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way. 

Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”

“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown. 

Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?

If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone. 

If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.

You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back. 

Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come? 

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”

“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.” 

“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze. 

He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head. 

“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off 

Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.” 

“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”

The answer was yes. Right that second. 

The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…). 

“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid. 

Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.

“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move. 

You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”

“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.” 

“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.” 

You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” 

“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.” 

You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”

“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”  

You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.” 

You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation. 

When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too. 

And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t. 

The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.

Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.

“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.

Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.” 

“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.” 

“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed. 

“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”

There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”

“I’m confused,” you say.

“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?” 

You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.

“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”

“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives. 

You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.

You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).

The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food. 

One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.

Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor. 

“We need six groups of two!” 

Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag. 

“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”

Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”

You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner. 

You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!” 

Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face. 

Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.

You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it. 

You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult. 

Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.” 

“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.

When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”

“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer. 

He nods, “I think I can.” 

“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling. 

Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up. 

Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t. 

“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.” 

Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot. 

Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.

“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment. 

You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.

Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun. 

And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long. 

“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins. 

You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”

Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”

When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work. 

He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”

“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly. 

“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.” 

“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?” 

You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.

You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.

After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice. 

“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.” 

One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly. 

“What?”

“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.

You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something? 

You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”

Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that. 

Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

(Or so you think.)

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!

[caffinated-and-sleepy]

Part 1

Thranduil with a human SO

Meeting Thranduil

- Realistically I don’t think Thranduil would ever let himself get close to a new other half that’s human

- Thranduil would never be ready to watch his significant other die again especially that quickly, after all 50 years is a blink of an eye for an elf

- Throwing what is realistic out the window let’s say he does find a human significant other

- Even then you have to be a VERY intriguing human to catch his eye

- Most likely you met him when he and his guard stopped at Lake Town on the way to Erebor

- He was entranced by how you treated him like a normal person

- It was strange, most mortals trembled before his 7ft tall frame

- Not you, you simply welcomed him to the Inn and left to help clean the bar

- Of course Thranduil didn’t intend to sit at the bar at all considering he could easily drink wine that didn’t taste like piss in Mirkwood

- But he convinces himself he’s just being a good King by going down and checking on his soldiers

- Of course his soldiers were doing well, many of them where testing out how many ales they could hold down they found it was 74 pints

- You were now in front of the bar sweeping and humming a low melody under your breath

- He goes to grab your attention and moves besides you, only for you to crash into him

- Thranduil catches you by the hand and for a minute the two of you simply looked like you were dancing

- “Are you alright?”

- You blush with a sweet smile on your face (me writing this: do it, write the line. NOOOO I CAN’T. Don’t be a wuss do it! IT’S SO GENERIC. DO IT. )

- “Looks like I fell for you.” (I’m sorry) Thranduil is beyond taken aback and processes what you said after he fully pulls you up.

- His response is a strange look and “I’m glad your alright.” and he disappears to his room.

- You don’t see him the next morning either since he and his soldier left for Erebor when dawn broke

- Little did you know the King of Mirkwood had trouble sleeping that night

- When they came back through Lake Town Thranduil was exhausted

- Lacking sleep and arguing with pig-headed dwarves can do a lot to an elf

- After checking back into the inn he finds you working again and decided to once more check on his soldiers

- After glancing over all of them he turns his eyes towards you, he then proceeds to listen in on your conversation with the owner’s nephew; Thaine

- “I don’t get why you’re still here? You could be at home by now.” The boy looked to be turning into a man (18ish)

- You shrugged “I like listening to the elves, Síndarian sounds beautiful! It runs off the tongue with such elegance and it brings about a sense of calm.

- The boy replies “That’s great y/n but I don’t think you should be in the commons alone and I need to head home soon. Mother said to be home before midnight.”

- Looking at the boy you sighed and said “Alright, just let me pack up and tell the customers.”

- Before you say anything to the other elves Thranduil butts in after leaving his eavesdropping corner (I sWeAr I wAs DrOpPiNg No EaVeS sIr!)

- “I can watch over both her and my own men if she wishes to stay.” He looks to you with the slight raise of his eyebrows.

- Looking to Thaine you immediately reply “Absolutely fine with me!” With a wide smile right after.

- Shaking his head with a shrug Thain says goodbye and walks out

- Finally alone with the king you opt to break the silence

- “You do not have to stay if you do not wish to. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your bed.” You almost looked guilty as if second guessing taking Thranduil’s offer

- Thranduil was now also surprised at how genuine you seemed, you a mere mortal was just worried he wasn’t getting enough sleep

- His face betrays him as he shows some sense of curiosity and amusement “It is quite alright, I do not usually sleep much until we arrive back at Mirkwood. I find that sleeping on rocks throw out ones back.”

- You couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp and let slip “So the rumor is true? The dwarves sleep on rocks?!”

- At this point he couldn’t tell if the human was dumb or dense, but he instead went with uneducated

- For the rest of the night you asked questions about the race of dwarves and elves

- The soldiers silently questioned why the King took an interest in a human, but they kept quiet

- Thranduil did his best to answer your questions, at one point he even smirked instead of giving you a blank stare

- The next day Thranduil felt a bit disappointed when leaving, you were the most intriguing human he had met in a while.

- Although something Thranduil didn’t say was that the dwarves didn’t actually sleep on rocks he is just a diva who missed his ultra plush bed in Mirkwood

Why is it kinda giving gen z reader? Nah but I swear it’s like a tradition to randomly post a Thranduil Imagine every few months, my Tolkien Curse. Anyways I hope you enjoyed and please comment, repost and like!

[fieldofdaisiies]

Midnight Queen II

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: fluff | words: 2,4k | warnings: none; for @starfallweek, thank you so much for organising this great event💛

A low, guttural groan leaves Azriel as his tongue glides over the salty skin of your chest. His lips close over the puckered skin of your breasts and he nibbles lightly, his scarred hand fondling your other breast, giving it just as much attention. Azriel purrs against your skin, as he drinks in your scent. Then he lifts his lips of your skin. 

“Celebrate Starfall with me.”

He doesn’t pose it as a question - no, it’s an invitation. 

An invitation that overwhelms you. Your body freezes and Azriel notices your reaction, stopping his actions as well.

He pushes up on his arm, regarding you from above, two scarred fingers tracing a line down between your breasts down to your belly button.

“I want to have you by my side on Starfall. I want to celebrate it with you.”

You want this too, you want to spend every minute of every day with him, but Starfall with Azriel and his family, the High Lord and Lady, that seems too much. You are a no one, your job…not the best, what would they think of you? 

This sudden self-consciousness gnaws on you and you hate it. You have never felt bed about your job, but also mostly because you stayed in your circle. Meeting the High Lady and High Lord is something grand…something you are not really sure you are ready for.

“I can’t,” you whisper. You want to leave the bed, and hide in the bathroom only to not see the look on his face, the pain and disappointment flashing brightly within his hazel eyes.

“Why can’t you?” Azriel’s voice is equally silent and he lets his head drop, forehead resting against yours. “And don’t tell me you it is because you won’t get the day off — I could always book your for a whole day and the problem would be solved.”

“Az,” you tip your chin up, nipping at his lower lip while simultaneously dragging your fingertips over his cheek. “I work in a pleasure hall, I can’t possibly spend Starfall with you and then High Lord and Lady. That wouldn’t be proper.”

It really wouldn’t be. You are not ashamed of your profession, never have been, never will be - it is the path you have chosen a long time ago and you don’t regret it. But still, the High Lord and Lady are on a different level and you will be extremely superior to them. What will they think of you? And wouldn’t they want someone else for Azriel? Someone better. 

“What wouldn’t that be proper?” Azriel kisses your collarbone. 

“We aren’t official, or anything.” You meet his gaze and stroke your fingertips down the side of his face. “I��m just—”

“Mine!” Azriel’s voice drops at least an octave and he leans in. “Haven’t I made it clear that you are mine, sweetheart?” 

He nips at your lower lip and when no answer follows, he continues. “Official or not, you are mine. And I would love to spend Starfall with you. And Solstice and basically just every day. I want to wake up with you, see your smile every moment of my life. Kiss and touch you whenever I want. I love being with you, it makes me feel complete and wonderful.”

You audibly gasp, tears lining your eyes. “Was this a love declaration?”

“Would you like it to be a love declaration?” He smirks a little, and hope sparks within his hazel eyes. You want to blurt “yes!” but you hold back. Scared somehow of what it means. Of course, you have fallen for him as well, but…

You have never really been in love before. Never been in a relationship, mostly due to your job. You would give it up for Azriel, but how to earn money then, how to escape this place?

And does he truly mean it? Does he really mean it?

His damp lips coast over your neck, down to your shoulder, kissing your skin there. “Hm?”

“I like you Azriel.” His lips curl against your skin and then he tips his head back, dark hair shifting with the movement. He gives you a look that speaks volumes.

“I like you a lot, Azriel.”

He lies back on the mattress and crosses his arms behind his head, waiting.

You draw in a deep inhale, and decide to put the cards on the table. You like him, and for the first time in your life you allow yourself to like a male that much. You want a future with him, escape this place and live with him. 

“In all honesty, I think I am falling in love with you and so yes, I would like it to be a love declaration.”

A grin spreads over his face when you turn to look at him. “It definitely was a love declaration.” He reaches out his hand and brushes his scarred thumb over your cheek.

“You are perfect,” he mumbles after a short moment of admiring you. Then he pushes up on his elbow, pulling your face to him, chasing your lips.

Your lips are made for one another, melting against each other when you deepen the kiss, hands sliding over Azriel’s strong shoulders, feeling all the hard muscles of his back beneath your palms.

“Come to Starfall with me,” he mumbles into the kiss, rolling you onto your back. His lips slide down to your neck. “Say yes.”

You feel how his teeth softly sink into your skin, and well, now, the answer comes as clear as water. “Yes.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“Welcome to the House of Wind.” Azriel removes his hands from your eyes, letting you take in the whole city bathed in soft faelight and the stars in the sky above. 

Your mouth falls open, having never seen the beauty of the city from above. It is incredible and you don’t even know where to look first. You’ve always thought the Night Court was beautiful, but now you are truly reminded of its beauty. 

“It is beautiful,” you whisper, eyes glistening. Azriel smiles brightly, a rare thing you have come to realise, and says, “You must be talking about yourself.”

That makes you blush furiously and you turn away with a giggle, focusing once more on the star-lit city below.

Azriel steps into you, his front against your back, chin resting atop your shoulder. His strong arms naturally curl around your waist, around the glittery dress, until your bodies meld together. “I‘m so happy you came. Thank you for following my invitation.”

You slide your hands over his, letting them rest there. “Thank you for inviting me.” You tip your head back until you feel his hard pectorals and then you relax, in his arms. “No one has ever done something like this for me.”

There was no chance that you wouldn’t have to work tonight - your boss said that it is the night that brings the most money. So, what Azriel did was that he booked you for the whole night and day that follows. You couldn’t be more thankful, tears clouding your eyes solely by thinking about it.

“I am glad I came here.” You turn your head a little, so you can look up at him. He is already looking at you, silently admiring how the moon’s light falls upon your face. “It feels so good.”

Azriel leans in and kisses the top of your head. “It feels right.”

It truly does. Being with him always feels good and right. Almost like you are two halves of the same coin and only perfect when together. Being with him has brought you so much joy, more joy than you have felt in all the four centuries of your life. 

“You make everything feel right.” Azriel squeezes you to him and tears appear in your eyes. He makes you feel so seen, so valued, your throat constricts with the emotions bubbling up inside of you. You have never felt like this. 

“I would like you to meet my family now.”

It obviously is unavoidable but in all honesty, you are really ready to meet them. You really want to meet them. There is a chance for something more between you and Azriel, for something big and his family is part of his life, so you are ready to discover yet another part of him. You have already learned the story about his hands and his past and childhood and you were more than willing to avenge him, but Azriel told you that everything had already been taken care of. 

“I would love to meet them.” You turn in his arms and place your hands on his chest, looking up at him, into his beautiful eyes. 

No conversation passes between you before he leans down to claim your lips and kiss you. Not in the hungry way he usually does when he comes to see you, but soft and gentle. It is just a peck and nothing more but it makes your knees wobbly and your heart race. 

“Az,” you breathe and chase his lips once again, kissing him a little deeper but still softly, smiling against his mouth. “I love kissing you.”

“I love kissing you.” Azriel laughs and it is the most beautiful sound you have ever heard in your entire life. 

He pulls you closer to him, kissing you once again. “And I love seeing you smile, and hearing you laugh.” He kisses your cheek and then his head drops and his lips find the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “And making you moan and scream out my name.”

“Az!” you laugh, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close. 

“Let’s meet my family now, before I might haul you away so I can hear exactly those noises.” He pulls away and you shake your head at him, tsking. “Always so needy.”

He grins and his hand drops, smacking your backside lightly. “For you, always.” 

 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The general, as Azriel introduced, flares his wings and grins at you. “Cassian,” he says in a loud, welcoming voice.

“Y/N, pleasure to meet you.” The large Illyrian shakes your hand and then pulls you to him, laughing. 

“It’s my pleasure to meet you. Thank the Mother, Azzy has found you. I‘m incredibly happy for thy both of you.”

You are introduced to most of thd other people like Gwyn the priestess or Nesta who is Cassian‘s mate, hugging them and shaking their hands but the words of Azriel’s best friend stick with you. 

Thank the Mother Azzy has found you.

Lastly, it is the High Lord and Lady that come forward and introduce themselves to you. You are shaking a little, never having made an acquaintance with them before or having met someone with that much power.

But they immediately make you feel comfortable, welcoming you warmly within the family.

“We are very happy you are here,” Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court, tells you with a bright smile on her face, holding a little boy in her arms. He babbles some things you guess are words of welcome and it warms your heart. Being here does.

It is so wonderful and you will never be able to thank Azriel enough for inviting you to come here and spend Starfall with him. For the past centuries, Starfall has been like any other day for you, but this year it is something special. Something you will never forget. Something you will forever keep in your heart and mind. 

You all eat together, sitting around a large table, chatting and laughing together as a family and once again you feel close to tears. It is almost like Azriel senses your overwhelming emotions (his shadows told him) and he slides his hand over your thigh, squeezing softly and you place your hand atop his. 

The shadowsinger’s voice is barely above a whisper when he says, “Are you alright?”

“More than alright.” You lean in and kiss his cheek. “I have never been so happy.” And you mean it. Whenever you are with him, you only feel happiness. Everything that has been on your mind before, fades into insignificance and then there is just Azriel. And you. And whatever is between you. 

You stay inside for a little longer, until you finally follow the beckonings of travelling spirits, going outside onto a large balcony, fully mesmerised by the beauty that is presented to you.

“Azriel…” you whisper. “Before I thought the view was pretty, but I have not at all been prepared for this. Colour, twinkling stars wherever you look, blazing across the dark night sky. 

You don’t remember much about Starfall from your child and teen years, and in the years, centuries that followed you have always worked on this day.

A slight feeling of remorse settles into your gut, for having missed the beauty of this night for so long.

Azriel wraps his arms around you from behind, chin resting atop your shoulder. “Make a wish.”

You turn your head and kiss his cheek. “No,” you whisper. “I have no wish. Everything is perfect now that I am here with you.”

A slight shudder courses through the shadowsinger’s body and he holds you just a little tighter. 

More spirits start to blaze above your heads, illuminating the night. Azriel’s family is dancing, chatting, singing and drinking, but you and Azriel stay at the railing of the balcony, staring up at the sky, relishing the other‘s closeness, the warmth and presence.

A spirit hits you, and after the slight shock has faded, you can only laugh, seeing how your skin twinkles. It also splattered a bit across your face, and when Azriel turns you to him and kisses you, the sparkly colours also grace his tanned skin.

He cradles your face in his hands and grins, from one ear to the other. His shadows curl around your arms and waist, bringing you in closer again.

“You truly are my midnight queen.” Azriel’s gaze wanders over your face and his lips part. You are stunning, and absolutely breathtaking, with the bit of stardust on your face and the travelling spirits reflecting in your eyes. “And I love you.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @callmeblaire

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

can you (if requests are open) Write a fluff/smut of Steve rogers like maybe he comes back from a mission and Y/n missed him so much. 🥺

Relax With You » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: All Steve wants to do is relax with his girlfriend.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), language, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, cuddling, pet names (honey, sweetheart)

A/N: Thank you for requesting @cevansbaby-dove 🩵 I hope this is what you imagined🩷

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Stevie!” You practically squealed, jumping in Steve’s arms and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Steve immediately wrapped his arms around you. “I missed you so much.” You tell him.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Steve says, kissing your lips sweetly.

Steve gently put you back on the floor, leaving his arms wrapped around your waist and looking into your eyes deeply.

“You look tired.” You say, running your fingers through his hair.

“Just a little.” He says, kissing you.

“Why don’t you take a shower and we can cuddle and watch a movie.” You suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” He says, kissing you one more time.

You and Steve broke apart so he could take a shower. You sat on the bed and flipped through Netflix for a movie to watch, waiting patiently for Steve to get out of the shower. Your attention turns to the bathroom door when Steve opens it and walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel that hung low on his hips, droplets of water rolled down his muscular body. You couldn’t help but stare at him while biting your bottom lip.

“See something you like, honey?” Steve asks.

You hummed in response, nodding your head yes. Steve approached the bed. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip before kissing you passionately. His hands found the bottom of your -his- t-shirt and pulled it over your head, only to find out that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. His hands caressed the soft skin of your breasts, gently rubbing his thumbs across your nipples. A soft moan left your lips as your head tilted back. His hands left your breasts to roam your body, stopping at the waistband of your sleep shorts. You instinctively lifted your hips so he can take your shorts and panties off in one go. One of your hands tugged on the towel, letting it fall from his hips to the floor, revealing his hard cock. You laid back on the bed, laying your head on the pillow. Steve got on the bed in between your spread legs, hovering over you. He leaned down and kissed you passionately again. His lips moved across your jaw and down to your neck. His teeth lightly nipped at your skin, marking you up with hickeys.

“Stevie…” You whined.

“Yes, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.” Steve says against your neck.

“I want you.” You tell him.

Steve kissed your lips once more before lining his cock up at your tight entrance. He slowly slipped his cock inside of you, inch by inch causing you to gasp.

No matter how long you and Steve have been together and no matter how many times you two have had sex, you’re still not used to his size.

When Steve’s cock was deep inside of your pussy, he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. You nodded your head, letting him know that he can start thrusting. Steve’s hands found their way to your waist when he began thrusting. Your eyes fluttered shut, loving the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. You threw your head back against the pillow in pleasure, moans of his name left your lips. Steve leaned his head down and kissed along the column of your throat. Your hands found their way to his back, digging your nails in his skin, making him slightly hiss at the feeling.

“Steve!” You moaned.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Steve asks in a moan.

“Faster please!” You begged.

Steve obeyed your command and began moving faster. Your jaw dropped, audible moans leaving your lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back and pulled him closer to you. Steve’s lips found their way to yours and kissed you hungrily. You placed a hand on the back of his head to intensify the kiss. Your fingers tugged on his hair, making him moan against your lips. You pulled away from the kiss to moan when his tip hit your sweet spot.

“Right there! Right fucking there” You moaned loudly.

His cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly. You arched your back in pleasure. Steve took the opportunity to kiss along your collarbones, making his way down to your breasts, kissing along the swells of them. His teeth lightly bit down on your skin causing you to moan and your cunt to clench around his cock.

“Ah fuck…” Steve moans.

One of his hands left your waist and made its way down to your clit, rubbing it in circles.

“Oh fuck, Steve! Please don’t stop!” You moaned.

You moaning his name encouraged him to pick up the pace with his thrusts and the rubbing on your clit. Your nails made red line marks on his back. Your orgasm started to build up the more he rubbed your clit and hit your sweet spot.

“Stevie…” You whimpered. “Please don’t stop! I’m going to cum.” You moaned.

“Give it to me, honey.” Steve pants. “Cum for me.” He says.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a pornographic moan of his name left your lips as you came. Steve fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own. He leaned his forehead leaned against your shoulder and his thrusts became sloppy when he felt his orgasm coming closer and closer.

“Oh fuck…” Steve moans as he came inside of you, panting your walls.

He thrusted a few more times before coming to a stop. You two laid there, entangled in each other’s bodies while you guys’ breathing went back to normal. After a moment, Steve pulled out of you, making you whine. He got a wet washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned the two of you up before getting back in bed and covered the two of you up with a blanket. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. You snuggled yourself against his side. Steve grabbed the remote from the nightstand and put on a movie.

“I’m happy that you’re home.” You say, looking up at him.

“Me too.” Steve says, smiling down at you.

“I love you, Stevie.” You say.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He says, leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[chatterbox-73]

Simptember 2024.

Day 12 - Gifts.

Itachi Uchiha x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for simptember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for simptember and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

Summary: Itachi visits you to rekindle an old childhood love with you, in hopes of asking a favour of you.

Word count: 1k

CW: NSFW and adult content, unprotected sex, drop of L word, mention of death, weapon/knife, public sex, public nudity, creampie, pregnancy.

It was such a nice day, you had only a few D ranked missions lined up with your team, finding and retrieving a lost bunny: completed; helping the medical ninja move boxes of medicine into the hospital’s storage unit: completed; tending to the hokage rock, washing it and picking up rubbish: completed.

Now you sat in the grass relaxing, having sent your team home for the day, you had decided to go for a walk outside the village and found a small clearing in the woods where you chose to sit and relax for the rest of the day, as you looked up at the sky you listened to the leaves rustle however it sounded off, though you decided to pay it no mind for the time being, that was until you heard a heavy crunching of leaves, it was someone, an adult, a man. You stood and looked in the direction of the sound, holding your kunai knife tightly in your hand, “show yourself now…” you demanded and held your kunai ready to throw it, there was more rustling before a man in a straw hat and a large black cloak come out of the dense tree line, “I said show yourself” you yelled and throw your kunai, it made contact with the man’s hat and caused it to come flying off his head.

An audible gasp left your body as you came face to face with your ex-childhood-boyfriend, with Itachi, you had heard he was wondering around the village a few years ago however you never ran into him, what you had heard was he was now an Akatsuki member, he had a fancy type of Sharingan that could put you in a genjutsu in an instan and was looked for the jinjuriki to steal them, “what are you doing here? I’ve already alerted the others” you growled readying to reach for another Kunai but Itachi holds his hand up and smiles “no you didn’t and there’s no use in doing that” he hummed and despite your better judgment you returned it to its holder, “what do you want?” You asked and Itachi began to walk up to you very slowly, almost impatiently slow, he reached out a hand to brush your cheek and you wanted to pull back, to shove him, to take him down, but you couldn’t and you just simply melted into his touch. I was just like old times, you allowed yourself to become completely swept up in the feeling on his love, as children it was so innocent, hugging and shering sweets, playing with the stray street cats, even shearing a soft kiss once or twice; and yet even now it still felt innocent and warm, but there was something else behind Itachi’s touch, “what it is?” You asked softly, you reached up and touch his hand for a short moment before you quickly pull back, however your touch still lingering on his hand. “I’m going to die soon, it has to happen… but I wanted something from you before I do” Itachi said so comfortably that it almost rehearsed, you were stunned into silence and reached up and grabbed the collar “what are you even talking about, death? Tell me this is a joke” you yelled and shook Itachi slightly, however he just stood there and nodded, “it’s true, but I love you so much… which makes this all the more hard to do this” he hummed and pulled you in wrapping his arms around you, “just promise when I’m gone, you’re not alone to hate or go after the one who did this” he smiled and you nodded, “what is it you want from me?” You asked and Itachi’s face reddened, “I want you to take a part of me and keep it with you even after I’m gone” he hummed and lightly kissed your lips, you suddenly released what he was asking you, nodding you pulled him closer to you and pressed your lips to his, “I’d honestly regret it if I didn’t do this for you, after all we never got the chance to be a real couple together” you smiled and thought about all though memories as young kids, yet you felt a pang as you realised Itachi was right, so much wasted potential, so much loved lost, “alright, let’s do it” you hummed and brushed your finger into the hair on the back of his neck.

The sun was stinging your skin and caused you to feel a slight tingle over your skin, though thinking about it, there was a more of a chance of it being the activity Itachi had asked you to join him in, he laid atop you and worked his hips into a seductively slow and soft manner, you moaned and grabbed at Itachi’s back, “you feel so good, better then any word could describe” he groaned and his picked up his pace, “fuck Itachi, I’m gonna come” you moaned sensually in his ear, his hips shuttering and you whined cumming hard as his hot seed filled you.

You laid on your stomach as your nails dug into the grass as Itachi continued to take you in the small clearing, both naked covered in sweat and tears as you both held each other close, “you’re so big, it’s filling so will… I’m- I’m gonna.. cum again” you moaned out and reached back as your entrance squeezed around him and he grunted, finally cumming for the final time, fill you and keeping you plugged with his cock, not giving a single drop of his cum leave you, “I need it to stick, I don’t want to leave you alone again” he hummed and you smiled brightly, gripping his hand that rested on the glass next to your head, “I love you so much” you whispering, “I love you more then you’ll ever know” Itachi smiled and pulled your body back into his, breathing in your sense.

You sat in the doctors office, “you’re pregnant, I’d guess and say your due date is in late may” she smiled and you placed a hand over you stomach, he was most likely gone, but this baby was all you needed now.

Simptember Masterlist

Day 11 - Tenya Iida: Last straw.

Day 13 - Gojo Satoru: Eyes on you.

[spikyiwaizumi]

It’s a perfect morning for a hike.

The chill dusts Yaku’s nose as a soft winter kiss, his hot breathing tearing up his throat as he pushed onwards.

His thighs strain with pleasant effort, the slope harsh and unforgiving under his well broken-in boots, a stone breaking free of the thin, frozen layer of snow to bounce down behind him. They're all familiar sensations, worn into his skin almost as deeply as the court.

With one difference.

A gasp heaves behind Yaku. He turns back to his companion, who is bent over, hands on his knees.

“Wow, you really have left yourself go, huh?”

“Shut —“ here one of Kuroo’s hands lifts weakly, flagging his words. “— the fuck —“

“I’m waiting.”

“Up.”

The last line is delivered with a laboured expulsion of breath. Kuroo’s hand drops back to his knee, his gulping of air audible to even where Yaku is standing. He grins.

Kuroo had always been a single step faster than him in high school, and even in the early years of university he could hold his own; it’s nice to get the upper hand for once.

Yet something needles at Yaku; a slight twinge in his knee. A reminder that he, too, is getting older.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo continues, straightening up. “That I can’t keep up with an Olympian while having an actual career.”

An actual career, huh?

Kuroo probably hadn’t meant it like that, but Yaku becomes aware of a pit in his gut, one that had been growing since he hit thirty. It seemed to swallow good moments with the overwhelming knowledge of time, and Yaku hadn’t adjusted to it yet.

“Your career is literally making my career a viable thing.”

“Semantics.”

"I don't think you know what that word means."

"I don't think you know either."

Yaku flips up his middle finger at him, and Kuroo cracks a grin, trudging up alongside Yaku.

“I’m good to go for a while longer.”

“I can carry you, if you’d like.”

The answering glare that Kuroo gives him makes Yaku grin again, the movement of his cheeks feeling welcome, as if dislodging a layer of frost.

The camera shutter noise rings out alone in the deserted, slumbering mountains.

“Shame Kai couldn’t see this,” Yaku mentions as he sends the photo to him.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s devastated,” Kuroo says. “Being flown in to Australia to consult on Japanese flora there instead of waking up at an obscene hour for a hike must be so awful for him.”

“His girlfriend got a ticket too, didn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “Well, fiancé now. He had a plus one, and I can't believe that he brought his fiancé instead of say, one of his best friends of…”

He scrunches his brows, hesitating. Yaku wants to laugh.

“Don’t strain your—“

“Eighteen years!”

“There you go,” Yaku says encouragingly, and Kuroo shoots him a death glare.

“Don’t pretend that you were any better at me at math.”

Sticking out his tongue, Yaku winks at him. "At least I'm not the one who called Akaashi at two in the morning, crying over his project finance homework."

"He told you that?! And I wasn't crying, just on the verge of tears -"

"Like that's any better."

It works, as it always had. Kuroo doesn't notice Yaku speeding up, doesn't notice how they move faster when sunk into arguing. Maybe he does, and chooses to say nothing.

The sunrise is a haze of orange and pink, and Yaku thinks that it looks beautiful. It shines against the snow-patched hillsides, throwing up brilliant glares as it spreads across the mountains, claiming them for the morning. Here and there, a grey cluster of rocks emerge from the snow, as if waking up.

He glances across at Kuroo. Kuroo, who had agreed to take a day off of the work he loved so dearly to join Yaku at ass o’clock in the morning to clamber up a mountain to catch a sunrise.

He’d sounded tired on the phone when Yaku had called, just at the end of his workday, just long enough for Kuroo to run into his boss’ office and tell him that he needed the day tomorrow — yes, he apologised for the short notice, yes, he had everything in order — and then returning to Yaku to curse him out for forcing him to do that.

Yaku had asked why he wasn’t the boss yet, how come his career was flatlining, and Kuroo’s swearing at him had increased at a rate Yaku hadn’t thought possible before.

Yet he’s here.

“I missed this,” Yaku says.

“Yeah,” Kuroo agrees. His tone is a little wistful, softened by the sight in front of them. “I can’t remember the last time I went hiking.”

He's here, with his hands set on his hips, his chest driving out with each hard breath. There's unmistakable satisfaction in the curl of his lips.

“Better than lazing about on the beach, huh?” Yaku comments, moving closer to elbow Kuroo in the side. “Glad to hear you’ve seen the light.”

“Hey, that was not me saying that mountains are better.”

“Not yet.”

Yaku grins up at him, and he sees the edges of Kuroo’s lips curve upwards in response, despite trying to cling onto the mask of annoyance. His gaze wanders upwards, over Kuroo’s rough cheeks, a day’s worth of black stubble sprouting up, to the almost invisible scar on his cheekbone left from one of Fukunaga’s “inventions,” to rest on the grey bags beneath his eyes.

Cradled in the delicate glow of the sunrise, Tetsurou feels familiar and strange, all at once.

The pit stretches its muscles inside Yaku’s gut again, the pit that consumes his friends’ lives and leaves men in their places that Yaku only half-knows. His absence had been a choice.

He doesn’t regret it, but he acknowledges the painful consequences.

Swallowing, he turns back to the sunrise, and thinks he feels a wave of warmth from it. Kuroo is still a bachelor. Yaku has waited over a decade, expecting him to be one of those consequences, one that he paid the moment he chose to pursue volleyball professionally. He wets his dry, cracked lips, and glances up at Kuroo again.

Kuroo’s face is awash with an orange tint, and there are folds Yaku doesn’t recognise, smile lines faded into his skin, his bone structure just a fraction more prominent than before. Yaku wants to relearn all of it — maybe even better than before. His eyes are creased up in the way they always did when he was considering something; his tongue working within his mouth.

“I’d have brought you here sooner if I knew this is what made you speechless,” he says, and Kuroo’s removed, thoughtful expression vanishes. It's replaced by a flicker of a fondness, a momentary splinter before his usual laid-back expression settles in.

Instead of a snarky retort, Kuroo only leans his forearm on Yaku’s shoulder. He's heavy. Yaku can feel his body heat, revved up from the walk, radiating against his side.

“You’d get bored without my quick wit,” Kuroo proclaims. “We can't ever go to a mountain peak at sunrise again. Only beaches from now on, I think.”

He flashes a smile down at Yaku, and Yaku, after climbing up a tough trail for two hours, now, only now, feels woozy. He wasn’t a stranger to how Kuroo makes him feel. He’d been ignoring it for years.

Consequences.

Yaku looks down at Kuroo’s hand, jutting past his shoulder, dangling in the air. He’d stripped off his gloves at some point during their hike, and the tips of his fingers are tinged with a dusty pink, just visible through the brown. They’re lined. Yaku thinks of Kuroo telling him how his last relationship didn’t work out, that they wanted different things.

For the first time in a long time, Yaku stares at a Japanese sunrise and thinks of coming home.

Bending his elbow, he reaches up and takes Kuroo’s warm hand in his, interlacing their fingers. Beside him, Kuroo shifts his weight; taking more off of Yaku.

One last time, Yaku upturns his face to meet Kuroo’s gaze. His whole body is buzzing with the risk he’d just taken, but Kuroo’s steady eye contact grounds him; reminds him that they’d be alright, no matter what.

He inhales the crisp air, tasting a new day.

Waits.

“You’re serious?”

Kuroo’s voice is low, stripped of all and any teasing edge.

Yaku nods.

“I’m serious.”

[copias-girl]

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter IX

A/N: Don’t @ me if you can’t actually make a multi-way call on a rotary phone! Reader uses ✨satan magic✨ to make the aesthetic work lol

All chapters here <3

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

“Yes!” You exclaimed to yourself when you were handed a package by the Mail Ghoul, smacking a kiss right onto the cheek of his cold metal mask, leaving a glossy lip print that surely had the Ghoul blushing and swaying his tail in excitement. You had online ordered a brand spankin’ new bikini, and it had finally arrived. Thanking the Ghoul and closing the door to your room, you impatiently tore the package open, holding up the scandalously tiny scraps of black fabric.

Smirking kittenishly, you hopped onto your bed, laying on your stomach and dialling a few numbers on your ornate black vintage rotary phone.

“Hello?” Mable answered.

“Please hold!” You chirped, patching in another call.

“Hey girlie, what’s up?” Lilith picked up next.

Soon, you had all your girlfriends on the line, chatting while you kicked your feet back and forth on the bed and twirled the telephone cord around your finger.

“Sooo, the sleepover the other day was really fun.” You started.

“Yeah, I bet it was, with your little plaything there.” Emily laughed. “I can’t tell if you kinda like him or if you’re just leading him on for the fun of it.”

“Ooooh, we should speculate on that! Maybe cast bets?” Ava giggled.

“Did you guys hear that? That was the sound of my eyes rolling.” You smirked, giving nothing away. “Anyway, the reason why I called is because I just got my new bikini in the mail! Anyone fancy a beach day?” You asked excitedly.

A chorus of thrilled squeals came through the telephone, and you had to hold the receiver a little away from your head to keep from getting your eardrum blown out.

“You always have the best ideas!” Ava gushed.

“We should invite Rob! I’ll call him right after this!” Emily decided, and this time you hoped the sound of your eyes rolling wasn’t audible through the phone.

“There’s only one problem…” Mable spoke up. “Who’s gonna drive us? It’s shopping day and some ghouls took two groups of siblings to go into town. So they’re using both cars. She explained.

“I think I can get us a ride.” You smirked.

“Oh don’t you go asking that stupid Cardinal!” Emily pleaded, but you were already dead set on your decision.

“Don’t forget sunscreen!” You grinned mischievously, dropping the phone onto the hook with a click!

•𖤐•

A devilish smirk found its way onto your face when you spotted Copia strolling down the hall towards his office. He wasn’t wearing his biretta today, and you wondered if it was because you told him that you liked his hair at the sleepover. You skipped up to him, startling the man by tapping his shoulder.

“Oh! S-Sorella!” Copia gasped, wide eyes nervously darting all around, finding it difficult to look you in the eyes, especially since the kiss at the sleepover.

You just looked so beautiful; Copia didn’t want to get all hot and bothered, and it felt as though he really didn’t know how to act around you. You kept reeling him in with your sweetness, intoxicating him by lavishing your gentle attention on him, but whenever the poor man would start to get comfortable, you’d do something to keep him on his toes.

At the sleepover, you had called him out twice for having a boner, which, admittedly, the Cardinal felt very ashamed about. You’d called him a pervert and made him feel bad, yet you continued to stay near him and even cuddle with him during the movie. Your words didn’t match your actions. He couldn’t tell if you were calling him ‘Rat’ as a pet name or an insult. You were giving poor Copia mixed signals that he didn’t know how to decipher, and the more the dwelled on it, the more confused he got.

“Hi Cardinal.” You coyly twirled a lock of your hair around your finger. “Um, I have a question?”

“S-si?” He asked, swallowing nervously.

“Do you have a car?” You enquired.

“Eh? W-well ehm, y-yes I do.” The Cardinal answered. “Perché?”

“Well, I know it’s a lot to ask but, could you drive me to the beach?” You pouted, and Copia just couldn’t say no to those big doe eyes as you batted your lashes at him.

“Of course, Sorella.” The timid man nodded.

“Oh, you will? Are you sure??” You asked, and he nodded again, a pitiful little smile creeping onto his face at your excited disbelief.

“Thank youuuu!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hugged him.

Copia’s cheeks burned, his body stiffening, gloved hands shakily daring to rest on your waist.

“You really come in clutch, don’t you, Cardi?” You teased, pulling away just enough to look at the man while your hands smoothed over his chest, toying with the hem of his pellegrina.

Copia averted his gaze with a shy little chuckle, staring down at the floor.

Curling a finger under his chin, you lifted his head to meet your gaze once more, intimidating the poor little mouse by silently studying him for a few moments.

“Come have lunch, then we can go.” You took his hand in yours and pulled him towards the dining hall.

“O-okay..!” He followed you like a pathetic puppy dog, blushing furiously as you held his hand.

•𖤐•

“It was like… so weird.” Lilith remarked.

“So she kissed him?” Rob asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, but only because Emily dared her to.” Ava clarified.

“Yeah but… She, like, straight up made out with him for a minute. With way too much tongue.” Mable winced.

“Well why’d you even dare her to do that in the first place?” Rob asked, crossing his arms. It looked as though he was upset that he wasn’t there to protect you.

“She told me to give her a gross dare so I did!” Emily defended herself with a shrug. “It’s not like I dared her to swallow rat man’s entire tongue for fuck’s sakes! I thought she’d suffer through a quick peck and move on.”

“Okay but get this: afterward, she even asked him if it was his first ever kiss and he said it was! He’s fifty years old! And he’s never been kissed! Let that sink in!” Lilith giggled.

“I believe it! I mean, have you seen the guy?? It’s not like the ladies would be lining up to kiss that.” Rob laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“I know right? It was so weird though because then she was all over him during the movie.” Emily wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Yeah but it was a horror movie, and you know how she gets. When we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre that one time, she was constricting around me like a serpent!” Mable pointed out.

“I think I’d rather get jump-scared all alone rather than have to cuddle with that pathetic old loser.” Emily snorted, causing Rob to laugh.

“Nema to that! He’s such a little creep about it too! I think I even heard her calling him a perv!” Ava added.

Lilith gasped. “Eww! He was probably getting off on it! He probably had a raging bon-”

•𖤐•

You didn’t let go of the Cardinal’s hand until you had pulled him into the chair next to you as you sat at one of the long tables with all of your friends. You caught the tail end of the group’s conversation, and you could tell they’d been gossiping about you and Copia. You wished you’d been there to hear the full thing; you would have paid actual money to see Rob’s reaction when he was told about you sharing a heated kiss with the rat man.

The table went quiet, your friends clearing their throats awkwardly and looking amongst themselves.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you guys talking about?” You mischievously enquired, taking one of the honey brioche buns out of the basket on the table and buttering it.

“Well, nothi-” Ava murmured, averting her gaze but getting interrupted by Rob.

“Oh hey, lover boy!” He greeted the Cardinal condescendingly. “Did you enjoy getting your jollies from that pity-kiss? Must have been some first, huh?” He sneered before turning to you. “Did you wash your mouth out with bleach, afterwards? Or maybe rat-poison?”

Copia’s breath caught in his throat. Poor thing, his face was as red as the raspberry jam on the table. His dichromatic eyes were pitifully wide, mouth hanging open in utter surprise while the humiliated flush on his cheeks spread across the bridge of his nose and to the tips of his ears like wildfire. He was hurt by Rob’s words; it wasn’t like that at all! He wasn’t getting his jollies from you. It wasn’t his fault that his body reacted so strongly to you; he really did feel terrible about it, but he just couldn’t help the effect you had on him.

You let Copia flounder for a bit before having mercy on him, swooping in to save him.

“Be nice, Rob.” You tutted, gently running your fingers through the soft hair at the base of Copia’s neck, as if he was your little pet. “Co-Co’s the one driving us.”

Everyone rolled their eyes, grumbling quietly while the Cardinal‘s wide gaze snapped up to you upon hearing your cute nickname for him.

“Well, do you guys wanna go to the beach or not? Because Cardinal and I can always just go by ourselves.” You offered casually.

“Aw come on, sweetcheeks!” Rob laughed. “I’m sure your little rat can take a joke, right?” He asked, holding his hand out to Copia.

Like a good sport, the Cardinal nodded, reaching to shake hands, but Rob only scoffed and pulled away just before Copia could take his hand.

“Too slow!” He laughed.

Your poor Cardinal meekly folded his hands in his lap while your friends snickered, congratulating Rob on his cruel trick.

“Could you pass me the cherry jam please?” You asked, giving Copia a little nudge.

The blushing man nodded, nervously reaching for one of the jars on the table and sliding it over to you, his eyes repeatedly flicking to you before staring down at his lap once more.

You opened the jar, tsking in disappointment. Strawberry.

Taking a little spoonful, you turned to Copia. “Does this taste like cherry to you, Rat?” You asked, a bit condescendingly, hooking a finger in his collar to pull him closer as you fed it to him.

The Cardinal’s eyes widened in alarm at his mistake.

“M-m-mi dispiace, Sorella!” He stuttered apologetically, scrambling to get you the correct jar.

“Thank you, Cardinal.” You smiled sweetly at him, dipping your spoon into the tart cherry preserves and holding it up for the man to taste.

With pathetically wide eyes and a quick self conscious glance at your friends, Copia nervously accepted the spoonful, his tongue swiping across his lower lip to catch a drip of the glassy red liquid.

You made a little show out of licking the rest of the sweet cherry nectar off the spoon, and from your peripheral vision you could tell your friends were all staring, unsure of how to react. A wicked little smirk tugging at your lips, not missing the way Copia’s flush deepened as he watched you lave your tongue over the spoon he’d just had in his mouth.

“Mmm so sweet, isn’t it?” You hummed, gazing at your Cardinal while he nervously nodded, stammering out a quiet agreement.

“Well, I’m gonna go get changed and I suggest you all do the same too.” You stood from your seat, placing a hand on Copia’s shoulder. “We’ll meet you out front?”

“S-si, I-I go and, ehm, get the car and- S-si.” He affirmed.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit!” You reminded him in a sing-song voice before slipping off towards your room.

Not wanting to be stuck alone with your friends, Copia awkwardly got up and scurried off to his room.

•𖤐•

You slipped on your brand new bikini, smirking in the mirror at the perfect fit before putting some summer clothes on top. You pulled on your Widow Rat cropped tank top, some black cut off shorts, and your chunky black platform sandals, the ones with the cobweb detailing and the spider ankle clasp. Of course, you had your usual black nail polish on your fingers and toes, and the look couldn’t be complete without your grucifix ankle bracelet.

You grabbed your black beach bag, throwing in your black and white striped towel and coppertone sunblock, snatching your batwing sunglasses on the way out the door and placing them on top of your head.

You strolled to the grand main door of the ministry, meeting your friends who were also all dressed in summer clothes, Rob even holding a black and white beach ball under his arm. You chatted for a while until you heard the sound of keys jingling and clattering to the floor, and you knew your little disaster Cardinal was near.

You turned, seeing the man pathetically fumbling to pick his keys off the ground while balancing a boombox on his shoulder. You grinned endearingly, your eyes sweeping over his form. And he was wearing a different getup for once! You’d only ever seen him in his cassocks, but now he was wearing some sort of burgundy track suit with a t-shirt underneath that said VVLGARI. He had on a different pair of black gloves, ones you suspected he used for casual occasions like this, yet he still wore his dress shoes which looked quite awkward with a sweatsuit.

“Oh, we can listen to music on the beach! Good thinking, Cardinal!” You chirped, and Copia’s nervous expression softened at your excitement. He set the radio down, his painted eyes flicking up and down your body, biting his lower lip at your exposed midriff, arms, and bare legs.

Copia swallowed thickly, trying not to gawk at you like a creep. Smoothing his fingertips over his moustache, he cleared his throat. “I-I- ehm, I like y-your, eh-” He stammered, gesturing to your chest.

“My what? My breasts?” You asked in coquettish confusion.

“N-no! T-that’s not what I-”

“You don’t like my breasts?” You pouted, batting your thick lashes and looking hurt.

The Cardinal’s eyes widened in alarm; he hadn’t intended to insult you! “No no, I-I do! V-very much!” Goddammit, now he was sounding like a creep! “Er-! I-I mean! T-that is not what I- ..I mean- I wasn’t t-trying to, ehm- W-well, what I was t-trying to say, eh-”

You crossed your arms in amusement, watching him struggle to keep his head above water.

“M-mi dispiace, Sorella, I was t-trying to say that I liked your t-t-t-”

“My what, Rat? My t-t-t-tits?” You teased him further, taking a step closer to the poor, distressed, pitiful man.

“Y-your top, Sorella!” Copia finally got it out, red-faced and out of breath from being so tongue-tied.

“Oh! My top!” You giggled in realization, glancing down at your crop top and the image of the rat on it. “Thank you, Cardinal.” You grinned at him, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. Of course you knew what he’d been trying to say all along. Satan, you had the idea to wear that top because of him, because you knew he’d like it. But there wasn’t a more delicious sight than watching poor flustered Copia strain against his own nervousness.

“What a weirdo…” Emily murmured to your friends, shaking her head disapprovingly while the others exchanged whispers of hushed laughter.

“I, ehm- I will go get la macchina..” Copia fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie for a moment, stealing another timid glance at you before heading outside.

You and your group followed and waited on the front steps of the abbey, basking in the warm sun while he went to get his car. In no time, Copia was pulling up in his white 1969 Buick LeSabre, and you all put your bags and the cooler of drinks in the trunk.

“Slick ride, Rat.” You smirked as you slid in shotgun, pressing up against Copia on the bench seat. Lilith got in next to you, while Mable, Ava, Emily, and Rob squeezed into the back.

“G-Grazie..” He blushed, gloved hands tightening their grip on the wheel as you placed a hand on his thigh, under the guise of steadying yourself to make more room for Lilith.

“You can always sit back here if it gets boring up there.” Rob offered.

“I think it’s pretty tight back there.” You turned him down with a smile.

“You could sit on my lap.” He suggested.

Copia’s worried gaze quickly snapped over to you. He felt selfish and foolish for thinking it, but he really didn’t want you sitting on Rob. Copia knew from first-hand experience what would happen, because when you had sat on his lap in the car, the poor Cardinal got so worked up that he came in his pants!

“Thanks, but I feel perfectly comfortable right here.” You replied, daring to rest your hand on Copia’s thigh once more. The Cardinal exhaled shakily in relief as you put his worries to rest. With a timorous little smile at you, he started the car and your road trip to the beach had begun.

•𖤐•

Driving was smooth and streamlined due to the clear and open road. A comfortable silence had fallen upon you all, so you occupied yourself with gazing dreamily at the Cardinal as he drove.

He was a surprisingly good driver, and seeing the sweet man like this only caused your hot passion to swell for him even more; the way he attentively checked his mirrors, eyes wide and focused on the road, licking his lips every so often. You wished you could lick his lips again. Ever since you kissed Copia at the sleepover, you’d had the most insatiable craving for his delicious lips, inexperienced as they may be. Perhaps you’d make out with him again, this time with the clever excuse of letting him use you to practice kissing. He’d feel so terrible and ashamed of himself; a kind young thing like you piteously having to do charity work for a pathetic 50 year old virgin. You bit the inside of your cheek to stifle a wicked grin. Oh, how you longed to nip at him and tease him and overwhelm him with your affection.

You sighed softly, biting your lip and studying the man’s delicious profile; his sharp sideburns, thin moustache, the lines on his face. His pointy, rat-like nose caused the corners of your lips to curl into an endearing little smile. Copia always had a pitifulness about him, but it seemed to be accentuated in this moment as he concentrated on driving, his eyes flicking over to you every so often.

You leaned forward to pop open the glovebox, deciding to snoop around to pass the time. Copia watched as you poked around through his things, finally discovering his music stash. You looked over the selection, grinning at the 1960s Italian tunes, an ABBA tape, and- unholy shit, is that-

“No way! Repugnant and Acid Witch??” You held the tapes up ecstatically. You rifled through more of the cassettes, noticing that your sweet little Cardinal’s music taste was actually very heavy.

“I didn’t know you were a metalhead, Rat.” You giggled, reaching over to pinch at his cheek.

The man smiled bashfully, a pink blush causing his freckles to become more prominent.

“You, eh, you like that?” He glanced at you before flicking his eyes back to the road.

“Satanas, do I ever!” You sighed dreamily. “They’re two of my favourites! I’ve literally gotten noise complaints from blaring Acid Witch late at night. And I think I annoyed everyone by replaying that one random ‘yeehaw’ in Voices of the Dead.” You recounted with an amused giggle.

“Ah! Si, si, I always liked that part!” Copia chuckled. He was genuinely relaxed for once, nearly all of his nervousness melting away. He was delighted to discover that you shared his taste in music. Oh, he could feel himself falling even harder for you. And the fact that you were speaking to him like he was a real person meant the world to him. Poor Copia was so used to people brushing him off at best or insulting him at worst, so it was beyond refreshing to have a conversation where someone wasn’t constantly making backhanded jabs at him. He loved the way your eyes lit up as you enthusiastically spoke with him, inching a bit closer to him on the bench seat and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. It felt as though your friends weren’t even there; hell, the whole world faded into the background as he grew more comfortable with you.

For a moment, Copia even dared to think that he kind of felt a little bit cool. He was- what did the young people call it nowadays? Vibrating? Yes, he was vibrating with you!

“I’m surprised you don’t like something a little more melodic. You know, something you can actually fuck to.” Rob chimed in with a sniff. He had attempted to play it off as a joke, but a slight annoyance was detectable in his voice, no doubt from the fact that you and the Cardinal were hitting it off so well.

“On the contrary! The very best love-making happens when death metal is playing.” You smirked.

Copia’s breath hitched in his throat as he did a triple-take at you, his lips parted and cheeks furiously flushed as he gaped at you for a few moments before having to tear his eyes away and stare at the road again.

“I think the Cardinal would like to agree, but he’s a little too inexperienced on the matter.” Rob sneered, causing your friends to erupt into laughter, covering their mouths and playfully swatting at Rob in congratulations for his joke.

Aaaand there it was. Relaxation? Gone. Coolness? Not even in his vocabulary. Thanks to Rob so kindly pointing out his pathetic virginity, Copia was now back to being the ashamed, humiliated loser whom everyone made fun of. He didn’t even look over to see your reaction, too scared to find you stifling giggles.

After a few moments of silence, you twisted the cap off a water bottle to wet your whistle. However, after taking a drink, the small piece of plastic slipped out of your fingers, bouncing and rolling and finally falling somewhere under the seat.

“Satan in Hell…” You grumbled, handing the opened bottle to Lilith next to you.

“Oh- Ehm, do you want me to-” Copia began to offer, but you only shook your head.

“No, just keep driving, I’ll feel around for it.” You replied, bending down and hooking your arm under the seat.

In fact, you were bending down so far that your head was right in Copia’s lap, your cheek pressed against the bulge in his pants. The man’s mismatched eyes were as wide as cherry pies as he stole a panicked glance down at his lap, already feeling himself growing aroused.

You fished around for the cap, huffing in annoyance when you couldn’t feel it. You reached deeper under the seat, burying your face in Copia’s rapidly hardening cock.

The Cardinal prayed to Satan that you wouldn’t be able to feel his growing erection pressing firmly into your face, and he resisted the urge to grind against your cheek, his breaths beginning to quicken as his heart hammered in his chest.

“What are you doing??” Emily asked.

“Ew, it looks like you’re sucking him off.” Lilith laughed, catching Rob’s attention in the backseat.

“I dropped the stupid water bottle cap and I’m trying to feel around for it.” You murmured, voice muffled by the fabric of Copia’s sweatpants, your words sending vibrations of pleasure through him.

Oh, you looked gorgeous like this, so gorgeous with your head buried in his lap, your tresses of hair flowing all around. The man’s cheeks were on fire as he tried to keep himself calm, tried to steady his breathing. The last thing he wanted to do was cream himself, but it was so difficult when he kept picturing you pleasuring him with your sweet mouth.

Just when the Cardinal felt as though he couldn’t take it anymore, your fingertips finally grasped the cap and you sat upright once more.

“Got it!” You held it up triumphantly before screwing it back onto the bottle. You caught Copia’s gaze, smirking kittenishly at him as mischief twinkled in your eyes.

The Cardinal swallowed thickly, attempting to stabilize his trembling hands on the steering wheel. This was only the car ride. How in Satan’s name would he survive the beach?

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

[siilvan]

navi. we've talked enough about jealous!makarov. but what about jealous!petra?????🥹🤭 poor girl won't even know how to feel at that strange feeling on her chest when she sees him casually talking business with another woman, i wanna hear your thoughts🫡🤍

ohhhhh jealous!petra?? i haven’t even considered that… 🫢🩷

i think it’s probably easier to show, not tell… just pretend we’re a little further down the storyline 🤭 as always, this drabble is not indicative of what’s to come, it’s just based in the bloodsport-verse teehee

(and by drabble, i mean 1.6k... some jealousy with a happy ending and mildly spicy stuff BTC, enjoy <3)

мое небо/moye nebo – my heaven

you don't consider yourself a jealous person. sure, you've been jealous in the past, but who hasn't? it's a natural emotion, like anger, joy, sadness... there's no point in pretending like you never feel it.

except for right now.

you're eyeing the man of the hour from across the sizeable terrace, your back pressed against the pillar behind you as you watch him converse with a woman you faintly recognize. milena romanova. one of konni group's employers, stationed in vondel.

their words don't reach your ears due to the distance and the soldiers idly chatting nearby, but still, your gaze narrows at the pair. makarov is all business— standing tall, stone-faced, hands clasped neatly behind his back. romanova is far more relaxed, one hand on the railing and the other wrapped around the stem of her glass, the burgundy wine nearly spilling over the edge when she laughs at her own comment on something.

you should have expected a party to be lively. there's a healthy mixture of soldiers guarding the compound and government officials conversing with mercenaries, swapping stories and intel that you should be keeping an ear out for.

no, no. none of that catches your attention the way they do.

makarov's expression shifts, a hint of a smile showing on his face for a moment, before it drops again. romanova seems to catch it almost as quickly as you do, because her hand leaves the railing to gesture while she says something along the lines of, "i knew it."

"for special forces, you are not very subtle." a voice perks up from your side. you jolt, letting out a sharp gasp before turning to the person next to you. warden stares back from behind her mask, her head cocked to the side.

you shake your head, looking away from her again. "i have no idea what you're talking about, garanina."

she hums, following your gaze back to the pair. you both watch as makarov moves, crossing his arms loosely and leaning back against the railing. he's facing you, with his head turned to focus on the woman he's talking to.

an unwelcomed feeling blooms deep in the pit of your stomach, a cold burn that has your eyes narrowing and brows knitting together. on any other day, you'd have no qualms about putting her in cuffs or delivering a bullet through her skull. she's the enemy as much as the man next to her is. however... you need to be on your best behavior.

there's a whisper in the back of your thoughts, a voice telling you that his attention should be on you. his eyes, on you. his smile, as rare as it is, directed at you.

"jealousy, is it?" warden asks, pulling a frustrated scoff from you.

"shouldn't you be doing something?" you mutter, dragging your gaze back to her. she shrugs, prompting you to continue. "well, you're wrong. it's not jealousy."

the stifled laugher is audible even through the thick fabric. "romanova is employed because she's loyal to commander makarov and the cause. he keeps you around despite your loyalties being to the opposite side." she lowers her voice, eyes crinkling behind the mask. "don't get cocky, but remember who he chooses to have here."

warden gives you a nod before stepping past you, heading elsewhere and leaving you alone once more. you blink at her as she disappears into the crowd, your head slowly dropping after you lose sight of her, eyeing a scuff on the floor several feet away.

that feeling climbs up your torso like a vine, winding around you from the inside and branching out to every corner of your body and mind. you lift a hand and hold your throat in a gentle grip, the air suddenly seeming heavy, the vines choking your lungs for every last drop of oxygen as the air itself tries to suffocate you. the thorns dig into your brain, piercing, displacing the reassurance and injecting it with pure poison; thoughts of them.

his hands on her, pressing her down into his bed, touching her, holding her, whispering words of praise, clothes abandoned in scattered piles on the floor, bodies flush, moving in perfect sync—

the cool feeling of leather practically tears you from the mental scene. a thumb presses into the spot below your lip as a finger hooks under your chin and forces your head to lift, meeting a pair of dark eyes, familiar, heat persisting within the pools of deep bistre.

it isn't until another hand is placed on your shoulder that you take in a breath, slow and ragged, and realize how you must have looked. your heart is pounding against your ribcage, throat sore from breathing so rapidly, your chest painfully tight.

makarov says nothing as he stares you down, his expression unreadable as always, making you stiffen and fight the urge to shrink under his scrutiny.

"come," he murmurs, barely audible over the voices of the partygoers and soldiers all around you, as he releases your chin and guides you to walk alongside him, his hand sliding down to rest at the small of your back.

you keep your gaze low, focusing on the comforting warmth – too comforting, your rational side insists – that his touch brings, creeping up your spine and chasing away the cold that built its home inside of you. makarov marches you towards an interior door, his hand shifting again as his arm circles around your waist and tucks you into his side, the crowds you're passing through dispersing as soon as they see him approach.

there is some sick sense of pride that swells in your chest, replacing the heavy weight that sat there moments ago as people glance in your direction. it's like he's parading you around, holding you close in a public declaration.

that is, until you reach the door and he pushes it open, ushering you inside. he lets go of you once you're past the threshold and closes the door behind himself; you perk up when you hear the lock click softly, your gaze flitting to him in the dimly-lit parlor room.

"what happened?" he asks, breaking the silence.

you lean against the wall and huff, still shaking off the adrenaline that found its way into your veins. "nothing. just got overwhelmed, i guess."

he moves to stand in front of you, trapping you in your spot. "you're lying. tell me the truth." he mutters, jaw tensing.

"it's nothing, really," you pause, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. you miss the way his eyes carefully track the movement, nerves setting in as you try to search for a believable lie. "any of those people would have killed me if they caught wind of who i am and i freaked out, that's all—"

"petra." he says, succinct.

"i was jealous, okay?" the words escape before you can stop yourself, tumbling out so quickly that you flinch at it. even makarov is struck by the admission, brows lifting for just a moment. "i saw you talking to that woman, clearly having a good time, and i got fucking jealous. happy now?" you continue, the truth continuing to spill out like water after the splintering dam finally breaks.

you two stand there for what feels like minutes, locked in a staring contest that neither person is willing to break. you're not sure what's worse: the embarrassment setting your skin ablaze, or the lack of response.

you try to work up the courage to speak, to cut the tension in the air, but you're left speechless. you don't dare to move, even when the sound of gloves being pulled off and tossed aside reaches your ears.

there's no hesitation in the way makarov closes the distance between you, his mouth crashing onto yours as his hands fly to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. the shock that courses through you lasts only a second before your arms are looping around his neck, a noise that's as much a soft breath as it is a groan escaping him when you respond in kind.

the kiss is a mix of teeth and tongue, desperate and hungry as his hands roam, one coming up to cup your face as his thumb caresses your skin in an uncharacteristically gentle act, the other smoothly gliding past the hem of your shirt and flattening against the curve of your back.

skin on skin for the first time.

blunt nails dig crescent-shaped marks into your skin when your fingers skim down his chest, sliding under his suit jacket and toying with the buttons holding his dress shirt closed. the subtle reaction is all the motivation you need— you pop the bottom button open and keen when he presses himself closer to you. you move up the line painstakingly slow, smiling into the kiss when you graze his skin and feel him tense up under your touch.

your fingers immediately go to explore his newly-exposed skin as soon as the final button is undone, nails lightly scraping along the ridges of his abs and forcing a small shiver down his spine.

he tears himself away shortly thereafter, leaving you breathless as a needy whine passes your swollen lips, earning a low chuckle in reply.

"does that answer your question?" he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours after they flutter open again.

"what question?" you mumble, feeling dizzy, the only thing keeping your head from spinning being his skin on yours.

makarov indulges you when you send him a pleading look, pressing his lips to yours again, softer this time. it doesn't last long before he's separating just enough to whisper something into the kiss.

"no one compares to you, мое небо."

[spacesodaa]

Xiao x Reader - Let Me Help You

Characters: Xiao, Reader, Verr Goldet

Summary: You come across him on the top balcony at the Wangshu inn as he's returning from fighting god knows what.

Word Count: 3,229

Warnings: mentions of blood (not too graphic, but there's a lot of blood loss), angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

A/N: This is first person pov, but the reader is gender neutral. Xiao might be a bit ooc. Also posted on Ao3

The sun has started to set and the guests at wangshu inn are heading to their rooms one after the other.

I sigh as I look up at the darkening sky, the plate of almond tofu still in my hands.

Why do I keep coming here?

He avoids me anyway.

I feel so stupid right now.

I leave the plate on a nearby table as tears prickle my eyes.

Why did I have to catch feelings for him? For someone who doesn't care about me.

I bite my lower lip hard, trying my hardest not to let the tears spill.

It's time to go.

I'm about to turn away from the balcony when a flash of dark teal and a gust of wind disrupt the silence and stillness of the top balcony.

I feel a knot in my throat start forming as he raises his head to look at me.

Words escape me before I can bite them down.

"You're hurt!" I gasp.

He has a quite large gash on his side that's still bleeding.

He looks really pale and drained, using his polearm to help sustain his weight.

"I'm fine" he bites back.

"But you're still bleeding!" I protest, taking a few steps closer.

"I said I'm fine" he replies, irritation clear in his voice, while trying to walk away from me.

His knees buckle and he drops down, still holding on his weapon for support.

Hesitantly, I move over and reach to help him stand.

"I'm fine! Go away!" he shouts. A series of small bursts of wind fly around him and suddenly I feel a sharp pain on my arm.

There's a cut on my left arm.

I let out a pained yelp, pressing my other hand to the wound to stop the bleeding.

He looks horrified for a moment.

He's about to say something, but I cut him off.

"You're right, I crossed a line" I wanted to say it firmly, but my voice shakes so much.

I back away.

I'm so stupid.

I shouldn't have come.

I can vaguely hear him telling me to wait as I rush down the stairs clutching my arm.

I run out the door, along the dirt path.

The silk flowers are just blurs of red and pink in my field of vision, stained by tears.

I'm suddenly forced to stop dead in my tracks, Xiao appears in front of me in a cloud of teal mist, still struggling to stand.

"Wait-"

"What? What is it now?!" I almost choke on my words.

"I'm sorry..." he says, there's no bite in his voice anymore.

"For what?" I furiously wipe away the tears from my face "I crossed your boundaries. I'm just a stupid and desperate mortal, you clearly have no interest in me and yet I keep showing up" I don't dare look at him.

There's a bitter taste in my mouth I can't seem to gulp down, like I can't seem to stop shaking.

Through my blurred sight I see a gloved hand reach for my injured arm.

I don't have the strength in me to pull away.

He grabs my arm by the wrist, ever so gently turning it to examine the wound.

I move my other hand slowly, the cut isn't deep and the bleeding has already stopped.

"I hurt you" he whispers, barely audible, almost as he struggles to believe he actually did.

"It's- It's fine...it was my fault anyway" I reply.

"No it's not fine"

"Rich coming from you" there's way more venom in my voice than I wanted to.

Rationally I can't fault him for not wanting me around to help, but it hurts so bad.

He cringes ever so slightly.

"I know" he brushes his gloved thumb on my wrist in small circles "I...didn't want you to see me...like this"

"I thought you didn't want to see me in general" I scoff under my breath.

"You're wrong" he replies, he staggers a bit suddenly "fuck...I lost too much blood..." he's slowly inching forward, struggling to keep his balance.

His polearm is slipping from his grip.

"Xiao?!" I manage to catch him before he faceplants on the gravel.

He's gone totally limp, his breath is really shallow.

I swallow the knot in my throat as I feel the color drain from my face.

I somehow manage to pick him up and start running back towards the in.

He's way lighter than I though he would be.

It's almost scary how small and frail he feels in my arms.

His head is tucked under my chin as I run up the stairs as fast as I possibly can, my lungs protesting from the exertion.

I can feel his burning skin on my neck.

"Verr! Help!" I shout as I'm about to reach the last floor.

The woman pokes her head from the top of the stairs and lets out a horrified yelp as soon as she catches sight of me.

"Let's bring him in a room! I'll go call someone to heal him!" she motions me to follow her.

We barge into an empty room and she helps me put Xiao on the bed before running out.

I somehow manage to wrangle his shirt off of him.

The wound looks pretty deep and doesn't have a very reassuring color.

Did it get infected?

His torso is covered in bruises, his arms are full of scratches.

God knows what he went up against this time.

Verr and a man come running back in and I'm uncerimoniously shoved away.

I almost fall, but I bite my tongue and go sit in a corner, now's not the time to protest.

It takes a while but the healer manages to deal with most of the wounds, stopping the bleeding.

After he finishes dressing the gash he starts to put away his stuff.

"The wound was infected. I did my best to tend to it, but the fever is still there. As for the blood loss a few days of bedrest should do" he says and then bids his farewell before exiting the room.

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I almost had a heart attack when I saw you two on the stairs" Verr Goldet says, breaking the silence, while she gently covers Xiao with a soft blanket.

"Tell me about it. He didn't even want me to get near" I huff lightly checking my injured arm.

"You're hurt too?! Why didn't you say anything while the healer was here?" she notices my cut and looks at me worried.

"It's fine it's already stopped bleeding. I just need to go wash my arm...and my clothes" I'm covered in blood from before when I carried Xiao up the stairs.

"Go, I'll keep watch. Do you need a spare change of clothes?" Verr offers.

"I...yes please. I'll be back when I'm done...Can I stay the night?" I ask...thinking about going home and leaving Xiao here like this fills me with a sense of dread, even though he wouldn't be alone.

"Of course, you look pretty shaken, I wouldn't want to send you back to liyue harbor like this at night"

"Thank you"

My body moves on its own as Verr hands me down a pair of cotton pants and shirt that resemble pijamas and leads me to another empty room.

I nod along while she talks a bit before she leaves me in the room alone.

As I pull off my bloodstained tunic I can't help but think about what Xiao told me.

'you're wrong' I so desperately want to squander that small sliver of hope.

I'm terrified at the idea that he said that just to shut me up and not because he truly thought that I was wrong.

Always avoids me and keeps the distance, but tells me I'm wrong when I say he doesn't care.

Talk about mixed signals.

Completely clouded by my thoughts I don't realize I've been in the bath for god knows how long.

I don't even remember the moment I put my clothes to soak in the sink.

I hear someone knock at the door.

"Everything okay? You've been gone for two hours" it's Verr that has come to check up on me.

"Yes" I answer, raising my voice so she can hear me.

"Are you sure? Is there something you want to talk about? Get it off your chest? You seemed really out of it before and I'm a bit worried" she replies back.

It makes my heart ache, I made her worry.

I frown, but get out of the tub.

All my fingers are pruned up.

"Come in" I say.

I quickly dry off and pull on the spare clothes she gave me.

When I exit the bathroom Verr is sitting on the bed.

I vigurously rub my hair with a towel, trying to get most of the water out so I don't drip it everywhere.

I sit beside her, pondering on what to say.

"I know you worry about Xiao a lot, this has to do with him right?" she breaks the silence first.

I sigh.

"Yes. I...have feelings for him...but I'm pretty sure it's very much one-sided" I explain "or at least I was, until he chased after me before I brought him back"

"He chased after you? What happened?"

"I saw him right when he came back on the balcony. I wanted to help him since he was barely able to stand, but he lashed out. And that's how I got this" I raise my arm "I don't think he did it on purpose though, he looked horrified when he realized. I ran out before he could say anything to me"

"So he came after you? And then what happened?"

"He said he was sorry. I said it was my fault because I crossed his boundaries and I still think that. I may or may not have told him more or less about my feelings for him and that I thought he didn't want to see me at all. All he said was 'you're wrong' before he was out cold" I finish my recount, looking at the wooden floor.

"Ah I see. I don't think he doesn't care about you. I know for a fact the tofu you bring his is gone real fast and he always asks me if you dropped by. He thinks he's sneaky about it too" she chuckles a bit at the last part.

"Glad that at least he likes it, he never told me that in person" I reply, playing with the edge of my shirt.

"And wasn't there a time you called him for help?"

"Yeah, was surrounded by a big number of hilichurls that time, but I always thought he came because of his duty to liyue"

"That might be only half of it. He was talking to me when you called for him I believe. His expression was flat, but all color drained from his face and he was gone in an instant"

"This is so confusing. Tells me one thing shows me another" I rub my face.

"You might be able to get something out of him when he recovers" Verr offers.

"I hope so"

"I need to go back to my desk, there's still some paperwork that need to be done. You can go check on him if you want" she says, getting up from the bed.

"Thanks for the talk Verr, I'll keep watch" we both exit the room and go our separate ways.

I slowly slip into the room where Xiao is, trying my best to not make the door squeak.

He's still unconscious as expected.

Someone, probably Verr, put a small cloth on his forehead, in an attempt to bring down his temperature I assume.

I pad closer, I left my shoes into my room so the floor feels kinda weird under my feet.

I slowly and gently pick off the small cloth and dip it in the water again to make it colder.

I wring it of the excess liquid and wipe one hand dry on my pants.

With the dry hand I gently place a hand on his forehead, brushing away his unruly bangs, his temperature seems to have gone down a bit.

Keeping the hair back I place the cloth back where it was before I take a sit on the chair next to the bed.

He's still pretty pale, but he looks much more peaceful now.

I'm woken up by a strangled scream, jumping up from the chair now startled into an alert state.

It's the dead of night, probably 4 am judging by the position of the moon peeking at the window.

Its light shines weakly on a hunched figure on the bed, face twisted in what looks like pain.

"Xiao!" I call out his name, but get no response.

His breathing is ragged, eyes wide, body shaking most likely from both pain and whatever is that pulled him out of his unconsious state.

I step closer to the bed, my hand hovering mid air as I hesitate.

I decide against touching him for now, not wanting to repeat what happened earlier.

I gently sit next to his thighs and make sure I'm in his line of sight.

"Xiao, it's okay now. We're at the inn" I say softly.

Arms fly up at my sides and I'm pulled into a hug as I gasp, caught off guard.

His holds tightens a bit, shivers shake his whole body, as he hides his face in the crook of my neck.

His hands look for purchase on my back, grabbing fistfuls of the cotton t shirt.

This now very much looks like a panic attack and I have no idea of what to do.

How do I even comfort him through this?

I gulp down my fears and hesitations and gently smooth down his hair with a hand.

He doesn't recoil one bit, I can't control the sigh of relief that leaves my lips as I keep petting his hair.

"You're with me now, whatever it was that has you in this state is not here. You're safe" I whisper, rubbing circles between his shoulderblades.

Slowly but surely, the shaking grows to a stop, his muscles visibly relaxing.

I never got to be this close to him.

I feel so selfish knowing a part of me is enjoying the fact that he's so close when he's clearly shaken and distressed.

But even after he seems to have calmed down significantly he doesn't let go, his arms still firmly clasped against my waist.

I'm not entirely sure he's fully aware that it's me.

Maybe he thinks I'm someone else and that's why he's holding so tight.

All the times I was brushed off or avoided sting in contrast with this very moment of utter vulnerability and waekness I'm presented with.

Would he really show this to me?

The feeling of him thinking I'm someone else grows stronger the more I mull over it, the silence of the room almost suffocating me in my doubts.

"I'm sorry" I jolt at the sudden sound of his voice, kicked out of my self destructive thoughts.

"For...what?" I reply, barely above a whisper.

"I hurt you, you didn't deserve that" he still doesn't look at me, but now I know he's aware it's me he's holding onto for dear life.

"You mean the arm? It's fine, I'm fine look!" I scramble to show him the healing cut.

He doesn't lift his head from my shoulder and I drop the arm, a knot forming in my throat.

"Not just that. I kept running away from you when this is what I wanted to do for so long" heat creeps up my face "but I'm terrified I could hurt you worse than any healer could ever heal, lose you to the very same demons I fight every day. You deserve someone better than me, someone who's not a monster...yet...I yearn for your presence like I never did for anyone else"

"I..." I don't know what to say, words feel stuck in my throat.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything, you probably don't feel the same"

"What? You think...I don't want you?"

"I'd be surprised anybody would"

"Do you think everything I tried to do for you was done in pity? Or with some second thought in mind? I like you!" I blurt out "I did all of those things because I care about you and I have feelings for you! I want you" I feel the weight on my shoulder growing smaller, my face is burning.

He finally looks at me with this awestruck expression.

His eyes gloss over for a moment.

"You do?" I nod vigorously, not trusting my words.

"I'm glad" even though it's dark, I can see the faint blush dusting on his cheeks.

I hesitantly raise my hands to cup his face, expecting to be refused since this is the most physical touch I've ever been able to give him.

To my surprise he leans in my touch, closing his eyes and sighing softly.

His face feels so soft and warm against my palms.

"I know this might be too much...can I...kiss you?" his eyes snap open, shimmery, blush deepening at my request.

But I'm not given an answer yet as his hands leave my shirt to grip my shoulders.

He pulls me closer until our faces are millimeters apart.

"Please do" and our lips touch for the first time.

His kiss is soft, but hesitant, almost as if...

We part, still a breath away.

My heart is hammering in my chest, I feel hazy.

I struggle to believe we just kissed.

"Was that...your first kiss?" he nods slowly.

"Was it bad?" he asks, his expression slightly changing to worry.

"Not at all. I'm happy I was your first kiss" he lets out a soft sigh, sounding relieved.

Calloused fingers reach to stroke my cheekbone and the soft skin under my eye.

"You should rest, we can talk more about this in the morning" I offer, leaning slightly into his touch.

"What about you? Have you gotten any sleep?"

"I little bit here and there, but I kept waking up every twenty minutes or so" in response I'm pulled down to lay on the bed, partly on top of Xiao.

"Stay" he almost pleads, pressing a hand on hy back to keep me there.

"But...am I not hurting you like this? Are you comfortable with this?" I ask, panicked, raising my head to get a better look at him.

"The wound doesn't hurt much anymore and I am comfortable. I might need to get used to this though...I've never been involved with someone" I sigh, laying my head back down, forehead against his neck.

"It's fine, we'll go at whatever pace is best for us. No need to worry about it" my eyes are growing heavier and heavier.

Xiao is so warm and I feel safe.

All the tiredness of the day is finally crashing down on me and I can't stop it.

He laces our fingers together with his free hand, resting them on his chest.

I hear him whisper goodnight before I fall into the depths of sleep, content.

[fallen-gravity]

One Call Away

It's 1982. Somewhere in New Mexico, Stan recieves a phone call from not-quite his brother. Someone is threatening to take his life. Whether Ford himself is desperately reaching out for help, or someone else entirely has him at gunpoint, Stan knows one thing for sure: He needs to find him and fast.

Alternatively: An AU where the payphone Bill used to call Stan while posessing Ford worked, and Stan is actually forced to listen to his "brother" threaten to kill himself.

Notes:

Caution: This fic has MAJOR spoilers for The Book of Bill. Proceed with caution.

Author's Note 2 Electric Boogaloo: God, this book has had a huge grip on my psyche all week. I'm losing my mind. I'm going absolutely feral. I lost my shit at the section of the Missing Journal 3 Pages where Ford revealed that Bill tried to make a phone call in his name to Stan threatening to kill himself. I audibly gasped. I read it three times. God. I'm insane.

No character death tag because nobody dies! This fic ends on a positive note, I promise :')

AO3 Link

Or under the cut:

When you’ve been scamming suckers out of their money as long as Stan has, you come to learn to expect that anything can happen. You learn to tend to your own injuries, you learn the best escape routes, you learn as many languages as you can in case you need to flee the country, you learn to disappear without a trace; when you expect everything, you learn to let nothing surprise you.

When you have a public phone line that anyone can call, you learn to expect that only about half of those calls are gonna be potential new customers eager to try out your products. When you’ve been relying on these new customers to provide the money for your next meal, you tend to pay attention to patterns; you notice when your commercials air, how many customers are likely to call in, and how long it takes for customers to realize they’ve been scammed and call back demanding their money back. To most, it looks like the world’s most elaborately thought out scam they’ve ever seen. To you, it’s survival.

Expect everything so you can be prepared for anything. That’s how Stan sees it, anyway. As long as he’s prepared, nothing can catch him off guard. If he knows what’s coming, he’ll never have to wake up in the trunk of a car with his hands tied behind his back ever again.

Unfortunately for Stan, though, that means being hyper-alert at all times, even in his sleep, so even the most mundane of noises can wake him up. If the couple in the hotel room next to him drops a bottle of shampoo in the shower, he’s gonna hear it and wake up. 

If the phone starts ringing at god-knows-when in the morning, he’s going to shoot up awake, even if it just turns out to be some dumb telemarketer trying to reach him about his car’s extended warranty.

The alarm clock on the hotel nightstand tells him it��s nearing four-thirty in the morning when the complimentary phone in his hotel room starts ringing. 

That’s…strange. There’s no way that could be a customer, because Stan never bothered to buy commercial spots for late night and prime time television. For one, prime time is incredibly expensive and has too many competitors who are selling actual products, and secondly, Stan’s found that he has the most success when he advertises on the daytime soap opera channels, because that’s when all the bored housewives and old folks’ homes are likely watching TV. 

Could it be someone he’s pissed off? No, that doesn’t make any sense either, because they don’t usually have the courtesy to call before they show up with a shotgun or twelve. It can’t be Ma, since she usually calls when Pa goes away on his weekend trips to Atlantic City. 

Nothing’s adding up. Every fiber in his being is telling him not to answer.

And yet… 

He fears more for what will happen to him if he doesn’t answer. 

He pats his hair down, takes a deep breath, and picks up the receiver. 

“You’ve reached Stan-Co! Totally authentic and worthwhile products. If you need it, I have it. Stan’s your man. How can I legitimately help you today?”

“Stanley!” replies an all-too familiar voice, one he hasn’t heard in nearly ten years. “Just the man I wanted to see!” he says, despite not being able to see him and having been the one who called first. 

“Wh- Stanford?!? The hell are you doin’ calling my infomercial line?” Stan splutters, too shocked to even bother trying to keep his voice down. 

“Awww, that’s not a very nice hello for your favorite brother, is it?” Ford’s voice replies, sounding like he’s suppressing hysterical laughter. 

Something’s wrong.

 Stan may not have spoken to his brother in years, but he can instantly tell that something’s wrong.

“Stanford, what the hell is going on?”

There’s a short pause, and then Ford blows a raspberry into the receiver. “You’re no fun! I thought for sure you’d cry like a baby when I called!” 

Yeah, okay, something is definitely wrong. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on, Ford? Why the hell are you calling me so late? Why me? I thought you hated my guts!”

“Oh, I do!” Ford replies without a drop of hesitation, giggling like a madman. “But I don’t have much time, and there’s something really important I need to say, and you’re the only person I want hearing what I’m about to say.” There’s something…off about the way he sounds, not quite the slur of someone who’s drunk and far too energetic to be that of someone lacking sleep. But there’s something almost garbled about it, like he’s not all that aware of what he’s saying, and if Stan listens close enough he’s sure that he can hear an echo.

But Stan can recognize the cheap, static-y sound of someone calling from a payphone anywhere. Wherever Ford is, he’s calling from outside, and the last time Stan checked the only places outside that echoed were either very high up, very dangerous, or both of them put together. Stan does his best to repress the lump forming in his throat trying to imagine what kind of danger he possibly could’ve gotten himself into, especially if he felt the need to call him, rather than the cops, but he still can’t quite shake the tremble in his voice when he replies.

“Not much time? C’mon, Ford, don’t say that! I can help you! Screw this cold shoulder bullshit! I can help you! Just tell me what’s going on so we can figure this out together!”

An eerily long pause, and the next time Ford speaks it’s as if he brought the phone as close to his mouth as he possibly could. 

“You’re too late,” he replies, colder and more dismissive as Stan’s ever heard in his entire life. “I’m going to take a swim in the frozen lake tomorrow, and I might not ever come back, so if you don’t hear from me, I just want you to know that it’s because I never loved you. Buh-Byeeeeee!” 

“WAIT!” Stan screeches, and thankfully it’s enough to stop Ford from hanging up. “Ford, c’mon, there’s gotta be something I can do! You’re acting crazy! I’m not asking anymore, I’m begging! Where the hell are you?”

Another pause. 

Then, a voice that doesn’t sound anything like Ford’s.

“Oh, goody! An audience! You want to watch him die so badly, that’s fine by me! I’ll even hold off just for you!” An ear-shatteringly high pitched cackle. “Gravity Falls, Oregon. If you want him, come and get him.”

“Him?! Who the hell is-” Stan snaps, but before he can ask any more questions, Ford hangs up, and all Stan is left with is the droning buzz of the dial tone.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Either Ford’s lost his mind and really is planning to off himself, or someone else is threatening to do it for him. Shit. Shit. Stan has to go now. Everything else be damned, if he doesn’t leave before this other maniac gets bored of waiting then Ford’s not gonna be there at all when he finally makes it to Oregon. That’s nearly halfway across the country from his hotel in New Mexico as is, so he already doesn’t have any time to spare.

He leaps out of bed, reaching underneath until he finds his duffle bag, and practically tears the place apart trying to get all of his belongings together. There’s something in his gut telling him he’s not coming back any time soon, and even if Ford had miraculously said he was only one state over, Stan isn’t willing to risk leaving behind anything important, weaponry included. How’s Stan supposed to know what kind of bullshit Ford got himself into? How could he live with himself if he assumed all was well and left his brass knuckles behind, only to find his brother half-dead in an alleyway somewhere? 

He’s not risking it. Even if everything is fine, and Ford had only sounded like that because he was drunk off his ass and had no idea what he was actually saying, Stan’s not risking it.

Even if Ford doesn’t want him in his life, Stan’s not willing to risk losing him. Not again. Not permanently. 

Once he has all his stuff together, Stan scribbles down a half-assed apology for housekeeping and tapes it to the door alongside a twenty dollar bill. He hastily tosses all of his stuff in the back of the car, and speeds off out of the hotel parking lot as if it were his own life on the line. He doesn’t want to think about the worst case scenarios, so for now he focuses only on the road signs for directions to the closest pit stop and hopefully enough energy drinks to last him the twenty-something hour drive he’s about to make. 

Thankfully, the closest one is less than an hour away and open 24/7 to boot, so Stan is sure that his luck is turning around; all he has to do is pop in, grab a few things, and be on his way. He’ll be in Oregon before he knows it.

That is, of course, until he realizes that none of the maps at the place even have a so-called Gravity Falls listed on any of them.

“Uh, hey,” Stan calls out to the worker behind the cash register, who looks like he’s falling asleep where he stands. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Gravity Falls is, do you? Gravity Falls, Oregon?” 

At first Stan’s not entirely sure if the poor guy even heard him, but then the worker eyes him up and down and sighs heavily. “You makin’ fun of me or something?”

Stan blinks. “What? No, A’course not!” he sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “Look, I don’t exactly have a lot of time here! I don’t know why I can’t find it on any of your brochure maps, but I’ve got a gut feeling that someone I love is in a lot of danger and I need to get there as fast as I possibly can. Do you know where it is or not?”

For a brief moment the man still doesn’t answer, eyeing him up and down again, before he sighs and leans forward, like the information he’s about to give him is top-secret government information. “Alright,” he whispers, and glances around the store to make sure the two of them are alone. “I’ve heard things. Rumors. Crazy stories about ghouls and goblins and people who come and go without a trace of memory of who they were before they entered that town. I’ve got a general idea of where it is, but I’m not confident. If you’re willing to listen, I’ve got theories.”

Under any other circumstances, Stan would wave him off as insane and book it out of there as fast as he could, but he’s desperate for any information he can get, and he’s not entirely sure when the next time he’ll find anyone even remotely familiar with the town will even be. So Stan agrees, and does his best not to show how insane he thinks this worker is as he starts going off about the supernatural and monsters that sound like they belong in a Saturday morning cartoon. 

If Ford really is anywhere near any kind of place that fits this man’s stories, it’s no wonder he sounded like he was starting to lose his mind. 

After listening to the man ramble on for god knows how long and watching him draw circles in the map where he thinks the town could be, Stan thanks him by actually paying for what he came in for before jumping back into his car and speeding down the highway as fast as he possibly can. 

It’s an agonizing two day drive, only stopped by the times Stan fell asleep at the wheel and forced himself to pull over and take a nap, and the time he was so desperate for food that he pulled off at some truck stop (with admittedly the grossest food he’s eaten since becoming homeless) for a hot meal. If it were up to him, he would’ve done the whole drive in one go, but it was when he nearly careened his car off a cliff trying to stay awake that he realized that he wouldn’t be any good to his brother dead, so he resolved to also take short driving breaks here and there to make sure he kept his energy up; if he really does need to fight someone when he gets there, he’s gonna need all the strength he can get. 

Thankfully, upon arrival at Gravity Falls, Ford’s place of residence is much easier to find than Stan had feared; for a guy who’d been longing for a place he belonged since early childhood, Ford sure likes to stick out like a sore thumb wherever he goes. As soon as Stan goes around town asking townsfolk if anyone had seen anyone who looked like him “except a lot smarter, I guess,” nearly every single person he asks points off in the same direction of the woods and gives him the same confused sort of I think he lives somewhere in there. If he hadn’t gotten it from at least five separate people, Stan would’ve been sure that they were all screwing with him. 

And, as it turns out…every single one of them is right. It doesn’t take that much venturing in the woods for Stan to come across the giant cabin aglow in eerie blue lighting and surrounded by tall fences of barbed wire with pieces of cardboard stapled to it and “KEEP OUT” written on them in shaky handwriting. If Ford is anywhere, it’s here. 

Now…breaking into somewhere he’s not allowed? Stan can do that in his sleep. He’s done it hundreds of times, and he’ll probably do it another hundreds of thousands of times again before he dies.

But… 

Seeing his brother again? 

That terrifies him to his very core. Reason for driving all the way out here aside, there’s still a very real chance Ford’s gonna tell him he still never wants to see him again and slam the door in his face, and then Stan’s really gonna have nowhere to go. After everything, if Stan rescues Ford from whatever’s after him and he still tells him to leave and never come back?

What then?

…No. That’s not what matters right now. He can worry about that later.

With a shake of his head to brush off his thoughts, Stan rams his car into the fence hard and fast enough to topple it to the ground. He drives down the path until he’s close enough to the front entrance that he can hop out of his car as quickly as he can, but hidden enough that he won’t be seen if someone (or something) tries to escape.

Stan takes a deep breath as he exits his car and makes his way to the front door, and finds himself hesitating to knock the door as soon as he’s on the porch steps.

It’s for his own good, Stan tells himself. It’s for his own good. I’m just trying to help. It’s for his own good. 

He stamps down on any last remnants of hesitation and knocks on the door, loud enough for Ford to hear but gently enough to hopefully assure him that it isn’t anyone who wants to hurt him. Almost instantaneously, Stan can hear the sound of objects falling and glass shattering from inside, like a spooked deer trying to dodge the headlights of an oncoming truck. Stan’s sure he can hear the sound of someone muttering, and he’s relieved beyond comparison that it’s the only voice he can hear coming from inside.  

Because he can tell that it’s Ford’s voice. 

Which means he’s still alive.

Stan huffs out a huge sigh of relief, and subconsciously begins patting down the wrinkles in his clothes to make himself more presentable. He waits, and he waits, but despite Stan knowing he heard Ford stumbling around inside, he never comes to answer the door. 

Stan frowns. This is going to be even harder than he thought. Stan tries again, this time knocking exactly six times in the hopes that it’ll clue Ford in on the fact that it’s just him at the door.

As it turns out, though, that seems to be an even bigger mistake than knocking normally, because now the noises coming from inside sound even more frightened. From inside, Stan can hear a muffled string of curse words, followed by the sound of some piece of furniture being knocked over, and finally, the sound of feet trying and failing to sneakily run across a squeaky hardwood floor.  Stan’s about to give up, head into town, and try reaching Ford from a payphone instead, but the door slowly starts to creak open before Stan has the chance to step down from the porch and get back in his car. 

“Stay back!” Ford shrieks, his voice trembling. Stan still can’t quite see him, because he’s too distracted by the crossbow being shoved in his face. “I don’t care who you’re pretending to be, I will shoot if you try anything!”

Ford finally steps out into view, and Stan’s heart falls to his stomach. Sweet Moses, he looks so much worse than Stan ever could’ve imagined. His hair is a wreck, sticking up in some places and sticking to the side of his face in others. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, which Stan can only hope is from crying and not something…worse. There’s a dried streak of blood running down from his right eye, and there’s scratches and cuts splattered around his face. He’s wearing a ratty trench coat, and the white shirt underneath is practically falling off of his body, concerningly torn to bits at the chest area. And from what’s left of the poor shirt, there’s splotches of vomit mixed with some other…unrecognizable liquids.

Stan can feel a foul-tasting bile rising in his throat at the sight of him. Surely anyone else would flee, thinking him to be clinically insane, but Stan refuses to sit around and ignore whatever caused his brother to turn out like…this. 

“Stanford?” Stan splutters, failing to keep the shock out of his voice. “What the ever-loving  fuck is going on?” 

Somehow, that of all things is what seems to snap Ford out of his trance. He’s still clinging to his crossbow, but his fingers aren’t on the trigger anymore and his eyes are already looking less foggy than when he’d opened the door a minute prior. He blinks and rubs at his eyes, and takes a cautious, shaky step forward, like he’s afraid the ground will shatter like glass under his feet if he moves too quickly. 

“S-Stanley?” Ford whispers, more to himself than to Stan, but Stan can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes him. 

He’s not too far gone. There’s still hope. Stan goes to take another step forward, but before he has the chance, all the color drains from Ford’s face.

“Oh no,” Ford whispers, and the crossbow slips from his hand. “Oh no no no no no no no,” he mumbles, retreating back inside without closing the door. He comes back out moments later, gripping a flashlight in one hand and a VHS tape in the other. 

Out of nowhere, Ford grabs Stan by the shoulders, prompting a surprised yelp out of him, and even more out of nowhere, Ford takes the flashlight and flashes it in his eyes. 

“Ow! What gives!?” Stan exclaims, pulling himself out of Ford’s grip and rubbing at his eyes with his wrist. When his vision finally readjusts from the assault, he’s surprised to see that Ford’s whole posture has relaxed significantly. Sure, he still looks frightened out of his mind, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to shatter to pieces anymore. 

“How long have you been here?” Ford asks, completely ignoring Stan’s previous questions. 

“Uhh…” Stan pauses, admittedly taken aback by the question. “About an hour, I think?” he shrugs. “Had some trouble finding you, since some of the folks I asked around town didn’t seem to know who I was talking about when I asked about you.”

Ford’s eyes widen in horror. “You asked around town about me?” He splutters, but then clears his throat to regain his composure. “Did anyone try to get anything out of you? Were you followed?” 

Stan snorts. “Puh-lease. The most dangerous person around here is probably me, and I haven’t eaten a healthy meal in weeks.” He shakes his head. “Nobody said anything. And if I was followed, I’d know. It’s something you learn to look out for when you’ve been living on the streets for ten years.” There’s a shred more resentment in his tone than he meant for it to be, but it seems to get the message across well enough. Ford sighs, and gestures inside. 

“Come in,” Ford mumbles, his gaze falling to the ground. “I’m afraid I don’t have much time.” Without waiting for Stan, Ford turns heel and hastily returns inside. Stan does his best to follow close behind, but stops dead in his tracks as soon as he steps foot inside. 

The whole place is trashed. 

Trashed far beyond what Stan thought a single human could ever be capable of. There’s papers scattered everywhere, bottles of ink spilled and pooling everywhere, cupboards with holes smashed into the doors, broken plates and twisted rusty nails scattered all over the floor, a concerningly bloodied hammer on the kitchen countertop, multiple windows boarded up with splintered wood, and empty boxes of instant coffee mix strewn all around the kitchen.

Most concerningly of all, there’s a door that leads somewhere that’s covered with scratches and dripping with blood, and Stan’s not entirely sure whether that means something wanted in or if something was desperate to get out. 

Stan’s not entirely sure which thought he prefers. 

He doesn’t have too much time to stew on that, though, because he’s pulled from his thoughts by the loud thwack of plastic being smacked against the wall. He turns to the source of the noise, and he’s surprised to find Ford desperately trying to break the VHS tape in half. When that doesn’t work, he groans in frustration and resolves to throwing it on the ground. 

“Uh…Stanford?” Stan tries, and reaches out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, but Ford moves swiftly in another direction before he can reach him.

“I can’t do it,” Ford’s voice wavers with emotion. His head droops in defeat, and though his back is turned, Stan can see him cover his face with his hands. “I can’t do it. I’m too late. I can’t do it.”  He starts to shake even harder, like his body wants him to cry but he’s forcing it not to happen because he needs to stay strong.

For who? Himself? For Stan? For someone else?

“Hey, hey…” Stan drops his voice to a whisper, hoping a calmer tone of voice will be more likely to get a proper reply out of Ford. Stan is one-hundred percent not calm, and is in fact getting more and more freaked out the longer he doesn’t get a reply, but the last thing he needs is to stress Ford out even more than he already is. “S’alright. I’m here, okay? Whatever it is I can help you with. I don’t even care if it involves any nerdy-smarts stuff. I can learn it for you. I can help you.”

For a few brief moments, Ford’s heavy breathing pauses. He turns to look at Stan, and it’s hard not to flinch at the fact that he’s looking more and more like a kicked, abused puppy. He looks like he’s genuinely considering replying, even goes to open his mouth, but clamps down on that moments later when another thought seemingly comes to him. 

“I…” he stammers, and violently shakes his head again. “I can’t. I could never.” He starts pacing back and forth in place, rubbing his arms up and down together in a failed attempt to self-sooth. “I wish I could, but…” he trails off, but stops before he can allow himself to finish. He violently shakes his head again, like he’s not allowing himself to even think that things could possibly get better. 

Stan scowls. That’s the last straw. 

“Stanford.” Stan speaks firmly, and grabs at both of his brother’s shoulders. His grip is gentle enough not to hurt him, but strong enough to prevent him from squirming away. As it turns out, though, the strength isn’t very necessary, since Ford practically goes limp in his arms at the touch. 

“Stanford,” Stan repeats as he turns Ford around to force him to look him in the eyes. “I’m not asking anymore. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on. I know for a fact that I didn’t just haul my ass all the way out to Oregon from New Mexico worried sick to death that my brother was going to kill himself just for him to push me away again. I don’t know if something happened to you after you got rejected from that fancy nerd school, or if someone’s after you, or if you really are thinking about killing yourself. I don’t care if that phone call from the other day was a threat or just a drunk dial you made after watching too much Galaxy Sci-Fi Wars, or what, but I don’t need any of that to see how much trouble you’re in! You’re shaking! You’re hurt! Your house looks like it was hit by every single natural disaster all at once! I don’t care how it happened, I care that it happened. Talk to me, Stanford. I’m not leaving until you talk.”

There’s a heavy pause. Ford’s eyes are darting all around Stan’s face, and Stan’s not quite sure what he’s looking for. He doesn’t look angry or offended, but he doesn’t look all that convinced, either. It’s almost as if there’s a deep-rooted sadness in his gaze, like Ford’s not fully convinced of his honesty, and that breaks Stan’s heart more than anything else.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Ford finally replies, breaking eye contact but not bothering to break out of Stan’s grip.

Stan wants to laugh. If the situation were less dire, he would laugh. “Wouldn’t understand?” he replies, gently shaking Ford’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t understand what? Having a target on your back wherever you go? An expensive bounty on your head? You think I don’t understand having to sleep with one eye open? With having to pack everything up as soon as possible because you might not survive the night if you don’t leave? Or do you think I don’t understand being too scared to try leaving, because you feel like the moment you’re out of a so-called ‘safe zone’ is the moment someone’s gonna kidnap you? Or throw you in the trunk of their car? Or do something much, much worse to you? Just because you pissed off the wrong guy? Do y’really think I don’t understand that, Ford? I understand that better than anybody. I understand that better than I’m willing to admit.” 

One final pause, and then Ford sighs heavily enough that Stan can feel the tension slumping off of his body.  Stan finally releases his grip on him, and Stan is hugely relieved to notice that Ford’s posture already looks significantly more relaxed. 

“You’re right,” Ford mumbles, and stretches his arms into the air to try and release any extra remaining tension. “You’re right,” he repeats, and nervously scratches at his chin. “Plus, uh…it probably would be easier to deal with this alongside someone else. I’ve…” he trails off, as if too embarrassed to finish. “I’ve been alone with my…thoughts for far too long. Some human company might do me some good.” 

Stan snorts. “Ha! Listen to yourself. Human company might do me some good. If I’d shown up any later you would’ve turned into a full-time nerd robot!”

Ford cracks the tiniest of smiles at that, whether he’s aware of it or not, and then it’s right back to business as usual. “Alright, fine. You got me.” He rubs at the back of his head. “There’s…someone after me. Someone who wants me dead. I don’t really know how to explain it to you, but it wasn’t exactly…me that called you the other night. I mean, it technically was, since I was the one who was speaking, but it was more like…he was forcing me to say those things. There’s something of mine that he wants, but I’m afraid that if he gets his hands on it, it’s going to hurt a lot of people. No, scratch that, I know it’s going to hurt a lot of people. I know that, and he knows that, and that’s why he wants it. But that’s also why I refuse to give it to him. It’s a big vicious game of cat and mouse. He wants it, I don’t give it to him, he retaliates with violence. There’s no winning.” He takes a deep breath, clearly trying his damn hardest not to spiral again. “Either I give him what he wants or he kills me taking it by force.” He buries his face into his hands. “I can’t do it.” He whimpers. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“...Bullshit.” 

Stan doesn’t even realize he’d blurted that out loud until Ford pulls his face from his hands to stare at him slack-jawed. “Come again?” 

“I said that’s total bullshit.” Stan replies, firmly standing his ground. “Listen, Ford, I’ve been dealing with his type for a lot longer than I’m willing to admit, and lemme tell you something; that’s just what he wants you to think. He wants you to give up and assume everything’s hopeless, because the moment you lose hope and stop fighting is the moment he’ll strike. He wants you to think he’s got no weakness, because that makes it so much easier to exploit yours. Everyone’s got ‘em, Sixer, but only the cockiest and most powerful aren’t willing to admit that they’ve got ‘em, too. And you wanna know a secret? They don’t like to admit they’ve got weaknesses because they know what it does to them. They know the second anyone finds out about their weakness that they’re just like the rest of us. If we know their weaknesses, we can fight back, and that terrifies those suckers to their very core. That’s the kind of stuff that sends them running home to their mamas. If there’s even an inkling of a chance that someone’s gonna knock them off of their pedestal, or that nobody’s afraid of them anymore because we’ve got ‘em figured out, that’s what gets them. They get so obsessed over the power they have on others that they forget to stop and consider that others can have power over them.”

“I’m telling you, Sixer, no matter what this guy tries to convince you, he’s just sayin’ it to keep you complacent. He wants you to think he’s got no weakness because he’s terrified at the idea of losing his power over you. Once you stop letting him control you, he’ll have nowhere else to stand. Once he loses you, he loses everything. It’s not about whether or not you can fight back, it’s about how you’re gonna fight back. Because once you fight back and you take control, he’s gonna have nowhere to run, and then he’s gonna be the one backed into a corner. You can fight back. You can tell him no.”

“B-but-” 

“Up up up, I don’t wanna hear it” Stan waggles a finger in his face. “If I’m still alive after all I’ve been through, I sure as hell know that you’re gonna make it, too. If I can chew my way out of the trunk of a car and tunnel my way out of a Colombian prison using nothing but cheap plastic cutlery, you can break away from whatever hold this guy has on you. Don’t sit around and wait for this guy to strike, you gotta stand up and strike first. He’ll never see it coming.” He slaps Ford on the back. “You’re a smart guy, Sixer, I’m sure that you of all people could figure out how to outsmart this guy. 

Ford looks like he wants to believe him, like he wants to hope that things are gonna be okay, but there’s something that’s still tethering him to his fears. There’s the briefest spark of hope in his eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly as it arrived.

“I wish I could believe you, Stanley, but Bill, he’s-” Ford starts, but flinches like he’s been shot when he accidentally uses this other guy’s name. It breaks Stan’s heart to see his brother so fearful for his life, but it also makes his blood boil over with rage thinking about the power this guy’s got over him.

 What, is saying his name gonna summon him or something? Did this Bill guy plant bugged cameras all over the house so he could keep a constant eye on Ford so he’ll know if he’s ever thinking of pulling something over his eyes? Is that why Ford’s place is so trashed? Did he tear the place apart looking for secret cameras and hidden microphones? What gives?  

Ford freezes, as if he’s actually expecting this guy to kick his door in, and when nothing happens he audibly sighs in relief. 

Stan crosses his arms. “But what? This Bill guy’s supposed to be different? More powerful? I’m tellin’ ya, he’s no different than any of the other jerks I’ve had to deal with.” He jabs another finger in Ford’s direction. “And even if he was, by some chance? Even if this guy is somehow the most powerful and feared dictator in the whole universe, what’s the first thing I said when I got here?”

Ford goes to respond, but then his cheeks burn red and stops, a clear sign that he’s forgotten. 

“I said I’m here for you. I’m here because I want to help you. I could stand here and lecture you about crime lords all day, but nothing’s ever going to change if you don’t let me help you. I don’t care how big and tough this guy thinks he is! You’re my brother, Stanford. Nothing else matters more to me than my family. You even said it yourself earlier!” Stan throws his arms into the air in an exasperated manner. “Two heads are always gonna be better than one. Two pairs of fists are also always gonna be better in a fight. You don’t have to magically stop being afraid of this guy, but I’m telling you that it’s gonna be a lot easier if you have someone fightin’ the good fight with you. I wish I had someone when I was on the run from Rico and his gang.” 

Ford frowns. “Stanley…” 

“Point is,” Stan waves him off before he can go down a guilt-ridden spiral. “I’m not leaving. Matter of fact, I’m not asking you anymore. I’m telling you. I’m staying. Until we get this whole thing sorted out and send this Bill guy running for the hills, I’m not leaving. Protest all you want, but I’m gonna stay right here by your side until you feel safe again. Hell, I’ll even sleep on the front porch as lookout if you need me to! I’m tellin’ ya, I’m done asking nicely. I won’t let you kick me out this time, Ford. I’m here for ya through thick and thin.” 

For a few painstakingly long moments, Ford doesn’t respond. But he does look like he’s deep in thought, which is a hell of a lot better than all of the flinching and nervous pacing he’s been doing since Stan arrived. If nothing else, that in itself is a huge improvement. But before Stan can start again, Ford pulls a polaroid out of his trench coat pocket, and despite a gentle tear at the corner seemingly from age, it’s looking like the most well-kept object in the entire house. Stan doesn’t bother sneaking a peek out of fear of breaking what little trust he seems to successfully be rebuilding with Ford, but whatever it is seems to bring him a lot of comfort; he only looks at it for a moment, but those few moments are enough to sneak a soft, nostalgic sort of smile onto his face.

“You’re right,” Ford finally says, the calmest he’s sounded all day. “I don’t think there’s any way I could tackle this on my own. But with some help?” He smiles sheepishly. “I think there’s something we could do.”

“There he is!” Stan exclaims, grabbing his brother in a chokehold and giving his hair a rough noogie. “I knew my brother was still in there somewhere!” he grins, and tussles him up one more time before letting go. “And hey, maybe after all this is over you can give Ma a call, eh? She’s worried sick about you, I just know it.”

“Hah!” Ford laughs, tiny sparks of confidence returning to his tone and posture. “Now that’s someone I’m really afraid of upsetting.”

Stan grins, and gives Ford a gentle slug on the shoulder. As hard as Ford’s trying not to show it, Stan can tell he’s starting to enjoy the company. As much as Stan really doesn’t want to admit it, he was desperate for this kind of company again. He watches for a moment as Ford starts to go around cleaning some things off the floor, and Stan can’t help but crack a smile as he goes to join him.

If there’s one thing Stan does want to admit, it’s that he never wants to lose this sort of companionship ever again. Situation be damned, he has his brother back, and that’s more than any material goods he could ever ask for.

Given the situation?

Well, he said he’d stay until Ford wasn’t afraid of this Bill character anymore. But if things were completely up to Stan?

Stan won’t stop until the guy’s dead for daring to mess with his family. 

[blindmagdalena]

I was rereading the reader breaks up with homelander fic and it got me thinking 🤔 . What if homelander and his partner are hanging out or something and homelander is talking and his partner isn't paying attention or misunderstands him and thinks he's breaking up with them and they're like what? You aren't breaking up with me! You arent getting rid of me buddy that ship has sailed and there's no receipt! How would he react?

Homelander blinks several times. "What?" "It's not happening," you tell him, audibly swallowing a lump in your throat. He can smell your anxiety, and yet your head is tipped back in pure defiance.

He has to bite back the smile that threatens to form. Christ, you think he's dumping you. Admittedly, he probably could have phrased this whole plot of his better than I think we need a break.

"It's not?" He asks, carefully talking around his amusement, keeping his tone even.

"No," you say firmly. You take his hands, and knowing what he knows, he can't help but find the anxious purse of your lips deeply endearing. You always do that when you're trying not to cry. "We'll talk, and we'll-we'll figure out the problem," you say, squeezing his hands.

He almost feels bad keeping you on the hook like this, but fuck, you're so goddamn cute. "You think so?"

"Yeah," you say quietly, heart thudding loud and sweet in his ears. You sure got worked up quick. It's almost mesmerizing to watch how rapidly your demeanor falls into this frenzy, desperate to fix what isn't even broken. It's like yanking a direct line to seeing just how deeply you love him.

"Just... Just please don't... don't-" Your voice catches, eyes turning glassy.

Oop, too far. Now you really look like you're going to cry.

"Okay, okay, okay," he says, untangling his hands from yours so that he can pull you into his arms, stroking his hand up and down your back in firm, soothing sweeps. "It's alright, okay. I hear you. No vacation."

There's a long pause. He tries desperately not to laugh. Slowly, you press your hands to his chest, and lift your gaze to meet his. Your eyes narrow. "What?"

"You know, a break. I was thinking we could use a break, get out of the city. Check out Hawaii or Italy," he says, practically chewing each word. He can't keep the Cheshire cat grin off his mouth any longer.

Your jaw slowly drops. "You..." Even though he sees it coming a mile away, he does nothing to prevent you from whalloping your fist against his chest. "You evil man!" You gasp, striking his padded chest again. "You wicked beast! You creature!"

Homelander's outright cackling now, impervious to your strikes. He catches your wrists and yanks you into a gleeful kiss, humming a devious little purr against your lips. "C'mon," he rumbles. "You didn't really think I'd let you get away that easily, did you?"

"Stop kissing me, I'm kicking your ass," you say, stubbornly twisting in his grasp, kicking ineffectually at his shins. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I don't see how this is my fault," he says, backing you up against the wall, maneuvering both of your wrists into his one hand, pinning them above your head. His grin is downright wolfish. "You're the one jumping to conclusions."

"You said we needed a break!" You say, but when he presses his body against yours, you practically melt into it. He kisses you until you stop biting at his lips, until you cease those meager attempts to twist out of his iron clad grip. He kisses you until your heart beat settles, and you're kissing him back.

"Italy," you say, warm breath mingling with his.

"Hmm?" He hums, in a little daze all his own. He feels intoxicated by your visceral response, by your possessiveness and desperation to keep him.

"I want to go to Italy," you clarify, kissing him again.

He smiles.

"Anything you want, babe."