#you've been continuing this for a WHILE and could have blocked any moment

[brick-van-dyke]

I'm studying climate change and ecological impact of it at university but thanks, I'll be sure to tell my professors they also know nothing of the environment.

Bruh, I came to call out the antisemetism because it was genuinely there and tried to be respectful in calling it out. However, that doesn't erase the FACT that Israel has committed a lot of crimes against Palestinians and that Zionism is problematic. I tried to explain a common misconception and lie (80-90% of Jews? Are you kidding me? You really think almost every Jew is a Zionist when they're out here on the streets protesting? Oh right, they're not Jews to you all never mind! Because you all can decide based on political ideology what is and isn't) but all I got was immediately "lalala can't beat you over the fact I any a dni test to prove what you are". Okay pay for it then, tf? You want to know if I have enough ancestry to be allowed to talk about research I conduct? Like I don't need to know what my bloodline is and this is exactly what I mean when I say "well if you think that's Nazi shit then look in the mirror pal" because it's literally what you demand of me; proof of my heritage. Also no, religion can't just be neatly placed into boxes of "well you're not in an organisation" bruh do I HAVE to be in some group to believe something? Like?? These opinions are my own, and those of Jews I know. If you want to say "but you're the wrong kind of Jew and be sure you're not in any official organisation you can't exist" that's between you and them. I agree with some of the stuff broadly from different groups, and disagree with other things. Which is normal in any religion. My parents are Christian, but they don't follow a particularly sect because they broadly agree or disagree with various points. I broadly agree and disagree with various parts of various different religions because I want to be historically accurate. And when I look at the history this is what I get.

Also, bad faith? Look in the mirror. You just called me saying "well Zionists have a historic record of murdering Jews and Israel has committed atrocities and it's been recorded for a long period of time" and claimed that's blood libel. Listen to that, read it out and think for five seconds. You're saying Jews can't be treated as people, held accountable for an ideology that has ZERO to do with actual Jewishness, then turn around and straight up make shit up and think I'd actually believe you. Do I look that naive? When you go and say "this thing about adults who are far right neo Nazis, now advocating for white supremacist ideals and killing people" and say that is l comparable to the lie of "Jews steal children and sacrifice them", I'm going to stare at you like you're goddamn insane. Especially after you just made up the whole thing about Palestinians (which ones, the Jews?? The Muslims?? The Christians??) apparently kill Jewish children regularly. That's what blood libel actually is, saying "these people deserve death because they're rabid and kill children". Like what you just said about Palestinians, and again aren't saying which ones. Do you mean the Jewish ones? The Christians? The Muslims? The ones with ties back to Judea or the North African? Which race do you want to label as stealing children? Which religion? Be specific in your hate at least.

But yeah, nah, I guess maybe other person has a point. Zionists are hateful and obviously can't tolerate shit from anyone fuck immigrants, fuck indigenous Australians and fuck Jews who disagree. I'll be sure to let my friends know. Oh and maybe I should let history itself know since, again, this is something you can literally find recorded, but that's just history books lying to you I guess? Since that's the assumption here I suppose.

Anyway, if you hate me that much, you could have blocked. I am not responsible for a public post of yours that spreads misinformation. The OG one I agree with, I came on here saying I agree with it. After that? It's about Zionism, not Judaism, so don't you come on here pretending I hate anyone besides those who disregard human life such as those who advocate for a colonial entity that has a history of massacres much too similar to the ones people like me faced from Australians.

dear jumblr: STOP LOOKING DOWN ON AND CONDESCENDING TO CONVERTS.

this includes saying “ofc converts don’t notice antisemitism.” or “they’re a convert, they don’t know any better.”

i really don’t think a lot of you realize how many converts don’t reveal they are converts because of this kind of behavior. my own patrilineal convert parent refuses to publicly, not because they are excluded, but because of the condescension. the way converts are basically patted on the head even if they have ancestry, are patrilineal, were raised in a jewish environment, etc. or have none of these at all.

if converts are equals to you, treat them that way. most gerim learned more during their process than many of us learn in hebrew school, let alone what most secular “born” jews learn throughout their lives. so yes, converts DO spot antisemitism. they DO know things. and there isn’t an excuse for them to be bigoted, to spread lies about our people, or to side with our enemies or to otherwise harm their community. just like there isn’t an excuse for any other jew to do so.

you are not being open minded or accepting thinking and talking this way. you are actually engaging in exclusion and separation. you’re looking down on converts instead of treating them like they have equal standing.

if a convert doesnt know something or does display bad behavior? call them in instead of making excuses for them. treat them like equals, because that is what they are.

[flowersforbucky]

it's nice to have a friend

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.

author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!

warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only

Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 

This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 

Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 

One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 

“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 

“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 

“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 

After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 

A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 

A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 

You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 

"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 

"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 

“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 

“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 

He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.

"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 

You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 

“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 

Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 

You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 

“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 

Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 

"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 

“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 

“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 

“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 

“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 

“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 

“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 

“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 

You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  

After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 

Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 

You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 

Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 

Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 

You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 

You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 

He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 

Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 

The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 

A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 

"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 

“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 

You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 

Oh. Not a joke, then. 

He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 

“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 

“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 

He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 

Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 

You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 

You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 

"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 

“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 

The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 

It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 

You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 

The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 

Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.

“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 

There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 

His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 

He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 

You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 

"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 

Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 

He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 

“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 

Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 

“How the fuck did you–” 

“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 

Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 

Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 

He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.

Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 

He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 

Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 

How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 

You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 

Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 

“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 

Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 

You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 

You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 

“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 

When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 

You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 

Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 

"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 

“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 

"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 

“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 

"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅

[arthenaa]

UN Village — roommate!mizu x f!reader

synopsis: a glimpse into the life after being 'just' roommates.

content: 18+, nsfw, gay ass sex, gay ass losers, gay gay gay, short domestic glimpses of your life with mizu as your gf slash roommate slash best friend and your cat named nora. can be read as a one shot, you and mizu call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, she/her pronouns for both reader and mizu.

author's note: this is a compilation of the requests I received from my inbox! namely the ones requesting hcs plus nsfw parts. (to that one anon with a specific request for the nsfw part, know that ill be going along with some of your ideas! will be tweaking it a bit <3) i also have a hc that mizu is well off ... both bc of her father's hard work and that she also has a stable job despite still being in university. anys, enjoy!

parts: blurred lines, mizu as your roommate

Life as a couple wasn't all that different—a realization you've reached after observing your first few months with Mizu together. Aside from the access to overly exaggerated kisses and must-have energy-charging hugs, things were the same as they were before.

Grocery shopping on Saturdays is still a rotational thing, you cook, she cleans—sometimes when both of you feel a little too lazy to cook dinner, take-outs from that diner near 2nd Street are a must. She walks you to class, drives you to wherever you want, and you buy her her favorite tea as a reward for working hard.

If anything, your domestic rituals have been quite rewarding whenever you've come to the realization that yes, Mizu is yours and that you don't have to deal with all the angsty shit that came with having that realization. Everything was a breeze.

Speaking of working hard, Mizu had been quite busy as of late. Always unintentionally locking herself up in her room or getting home late some days. You knew her schedule well enough that this wasn't a result of her academics but of her work. You never knew how Mizu could balance her work and academic life so well but you suppose that's part of what makes her so ... Mizu.

You could see the exhaustion from the way she touches her temple more often or the bouncing of her knee whenever you two plan on working on requirements at the library (the librarian had been lenient with her judgment after the two of you gave her 'sorry' cookies the other day, it was quite funny). You knew that Mizu was getting overwhelmed with whatever she was dealing with at work.

So, as the loving girlfriend that you are, you wanted to give her a time to rest and motivation to overcome whatever block that's hindering her creativity and process in completing her work.

You make careful footsteps towards her room—shushing Nora who mews softly at your feet. You balance the tray to one arm as the other gently reaches to twist the doorknob. The hinges on the wooden door squeak as you push it open, revealing your girlfriend hunched over her desktop. Her room is as simple as it can be, white walls adorned with a few of her framed pictures—some were posters of her favorite bands and films while the others were collages of her favorite moments, captured by a camera she had bought on her first paycheck. You see the infamous cactus you gifted her on her birthday perched on top of her shelves alongside a few books and comics that she collected over the years. The minimalistic feel of her room does bring a calming effect whenever you enter her space (which is why more often than not, sleepovers are in her room than yours). Your attempts to not disturb her work continue due to the noise-canceling headphones pulled over her head. You see Mizu pinch the bridge of her nose, her glasses nudged up before she adjusts them back on her face. Your eyes soften at the view.

Gently placing the tray on her dresser, you make careful steps towards her hunched figure before moving to wrap your arms around her shoulders. She tenses for a moment but at the whiff of your familiar scent, she immediately melts in your touch. You pull away slightly as she pulls her headphones off, placing it on the table before going back to your previous position.

"Hey," You softly murmur, cheek pressed to her temple. She hums at your voice, eyes still trained on her tablet perched on a stand. "How are you doing?"

Mizu twirls her digital pen in her hand—the stiff length of her pen gliding smoothly along her fingers. She nudges your head to acknowledge your presence. "Fine," She says.

You knew Mizu tends to downplay her feelings a lot. It was a common problem you both encountered throughout both your friendship and relationship. She tends to be more service-giving and prioritizes your welfare over her own. While you truly appreciate her attentiveness to your well-being, it does bring concern whenever she says things that don't really resonate with how she looks and feels. You've since learned to grow atoned to her body language—knowing at a glance at her mannerisms and communicating more definitely helps a lot in the long run.

You place a kiss on her temple, hugging her tight as she focuses back on her task. You decide not to push too much on it. "Did you get assigned new work?"

Mizu hums, nodding slightly as she makes quick notes on her tablet. "Yeah. They needed a lot of manpower on this one."

Your arms move back to grab her shoulders, thumbs making circular motions on the area available to you. Mizu sighs at the feeling. "So it's a big project, huh?"

Mizu nods once more before pausing. There's a slight reprieve as you continue to ease the tense muscles on her shoulders. She then turns slightly, eyes looking up at you both in curiosity and gratefulness. "What's up with you?"

You smile down at her, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips before turning towards the tray of her favorite food on her dresser. "Got you some food and your favorite tea."

Mizu lightens up at your words, turning in her office chair and pulling you between her legs. She buries her face on your stomach, hands on your hips. "Thank you, Bonnie."

Her words pull a flush from your cheeks—still getting butterflies from her attention. You gently pat the top of her head, making sure not to stress the already messy bun haphazardly tied on a whim. A few strands of her hair escape the hairdo with each gentle slide of your palm on her head. You let out a grumble, hands making their way to pull the tie off her hair. Mizu chuckles at your movements.

"Was I too quiet?" Mizu asks as she feels your hands run through her hair—gathering all the strands with careful swoops. You hum at her response.

"Not really," You respond as you twist her hair in its usual style before beginning to tie it off with her hair tie. "Why?"

Mizu blinks softly, enjoying your ministrations on her head. She yawns. "I don't know. Just worried that I might've been ignoring you or something."

You pause at the last twist of her tie, gently pulling away to take a look at her face. The exhaustion is evident—bags under her eyes, eyes blinking slow, and the slouch on her posture. However, despite it all, her eyes and face remain softened and loving at the sight of you. A soft smile pulls from your lips.

"You haven't," Your hands gently cup her face as you angled it up towards you. "You don't have to worry about a thing, Mizu. Whatever you need, I'll be right here."

She gazes into your eyes, processing your heartfelt words before a genuine smile bursts from her lips. Your heart thunders at its brightness and you can't help but return its intensity.

"I love you." She murmurs, eyes filled with gratitude. You revel in its warmth.

"I love you too."

"Mizu?" You call out to the empty living room, not noticing the familiar raven-haired girl typically lounging in the living space around this time. You knew because Mizu often tends to do her leisure time in the living room where it has an open space and just an overall change of pace in the morning. You had gone out to do the groceries as Mizu did hers last week. You half expected her to be at the same spot when you returned but didn't overthink it. She was probably back at her room or fixing up that clog in the bathroom. You placed your shoes on the side before walking towards the kitchen to drop the grocery bags.

You begin to place the items in their respective places before realizing another equation to the problem. Nora was also nowhere to be found. Your heart speeds up,

"Nora? Mizu?" You call out, placing the bag of fruits down to find you two missing culprits. "Where are you?"

While Mizu was a generally quiet person and Nora being stealthy like a damn mosquito, they often wandered to your presence and so you expected that your girlfriend would call back and Nora's feet would begin to pitter patter its way towards you. There were only a few other options that you could consider where those two disappeared to. First, Mizu must have taken her out for a walk. Nora tends to be restless in the morning and prefers going out when the sun is high and the temperature is just right. Second, probably in Mizu's bedroom—those two tend to nap when you're not in sight, probably because most of the time their energy is just you with 5% of their actual energy. You decide to go with the second option for now.

You make careful steps towards Mizu's room, knocking on the wooden surface before opening the door. The lights are off and the room's spotless. Mizu must be out. You turn towards your room just in case. You're greeted with the bed you made this morning. You scratch your head in thought, confused as to where those two might have gone.

Just as you begin to worry, the sound of the door's security system unlocking through the keypad resounds through the hallway. You make your way towards the living space to see Mizu with an armful of carboard boxes and Nora trailing behind her. They both pause at the sight of you.

"Oh," Mizu blinks at you as if she had been caught sticking her hand somewhere she shouldn't have. You blink back in response. "You're home."

Nora meows in response to your rather unexpected predicament. Your eyes dart from Mizu, to Nora, to the boxes in Mizu's arms.

"... What's that?" You watch as Mizu gently places the items down with a sigh before turning towards you with a sheepish smile.

"I got Nora a tower," She responds hesitantly, gauging your reaction to her response. There's a few moments of silence as you process the information.

You remain speechless. If anything, you were the one who mostly spoils Nora. Having too much similarities to your grumpy looking girlfriend, you couldn't help but coddle the kitty. Mizu on the other hand tends to bond with cat through silent stares or squinting at each other as if they have their own form of communication. It's safe to say that you're quite amused at the fact that Mizu was the one who brought her

A laugh escapes your lips at the thought, watching as Mizu furrows her eyebrows in confusion while Nora simply meows beside her.

"How did you even—" You cover your mouth in an attempt to calm yourself down from the impending laughter. "When did you even get this?"

Mizu rolls her eyes. "I got it last week. When you had class—" She pauses at the sound of your laughter. "Why is this so funny to you?"

You grin at her grumpy attitude. "I just didn't expect that you'll be the one getting her the tower. I thought you settled for the treats?"

Mizu snorts as she settles down on the carpeted floor, pulling one of the smaller boxes towards her. "Since when was I limited to that?"

You grin excitedly, rushing over to her side with ease. Mizu chuckles at your enthusiasm. You place a kiss on her cheek causing your girlfriend to pause and turn her attention towards you.

"That's so hot of you, Bonnie," You coo, utterly enamored by her. Mizu's soften, the corner of her lips upturned.

There's a softened tension between the two of you as Mizu's eyes roam all over your face. There's a mischievous look on her face. "All it takes for me to get between your legs is a cat tower, really?"

You grin wide at her words. You decide to tease back. "Can you blame me? That's wife material right there."

Mizu drops the box on the floor before finally turning her body to you with an eyebrow upturned. "So you're saying you'll marry me over a cat tower?"

You shrug. "I mean, you, breathing is enough—"

You squeal as you feel the sudden rise of your body from the ground. Mizu sweeps you into her arms, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other gripping your thigh. You flush in her hold as you wrap your legs around her waist.

You squirm in her hold. "Mizu, I didn't say now!"

The raven haired woman pays no attention to your whims as she steps over the boxes and begins to make her way towards her room. "We can do that later." She hums, carrying you with ease.

You turn towards Nora who stares up at both of her parents, innocently licking her paw. "N-Nora!" You whine over Mizu's back. "Nora, help mommy!"

The cat only stretches—letting a loud meow before it jumps on the couch and curls into a ball. You whine at the lack of attentiveness to your apparent danger as your girlfriend chuckles at your try of escaping.

"The cat won't help you, y'know?"

"Mizu!"

"What about this?" Your eyes lock with your girlfriend through the mirror as you fix the front of your dress. Akemi's birthday is just around the corner and plans of going out had been arranged and planned out. The birthday gal had wanted to celebrate her night at a club and your wardrobe lacked the proper attire for an occassion like that. So you went shopping.

The thing is, Mizu had always been your outfit decision-maker. You didn't think much of it before when her gaze landed on yours whenever you showed her an array of outfits for whatever occasion. Now, you feel her stare more intensely as if a knife had delicately touched its tip against your skin and marked its way down with a gentle grip—not enough to harm but enough to entice a reaction.

The dress you chose was satin with a color of your choice—backless and hung around your curves nicely. You subtly turn your body as you admire its simplistic design. Mizu hums from her position on the bed, laying on her side with her elbow propped up to support her weight. You see her tilt her head, eyes taking their sweet time to analyze your figure.

"Bon?" You ask as you turn towards her. Her eyes are half-lidded and you can sense from a mile away the familiar look on her face but you remain ignorant of the tension brewing between you. You choose to turn back towards the mirror, fixing your hair as you adjust the straps. "I don't know if it's fit for a nightclub or an evening dine."

You hear Mizu hum. Just then, you hear shifting on the bed before sock-cladded feet pad through the wooden floors. You see Mizu's figure behind you in the mirror—the subtle size difference of her broad shoulders compared to you heats your cheeks. Her arms make their way around your waist, pulling you flush against her chest as she props her chin on your shoulder. Your eyes lock on the reflection in the mirror as you take careful notes of her appearance. Hair pulled in a half bun, blue eyes devoid of their usual black-rimmed glasses, figure clad in black with a familiar gold chained necklace wrapped loosely around her neck, and her wrist adorned by a silver watch you gifted her on her birthday last year. You heave a breath at the intensity of her stare.

"You look pretty," She mumbles, eyes lost in your figure before placing a soft kiss on your neck. A shiver runs through your spine at her affection, feeling it take course through the expanse of your shoulder. It's slow and soft—making sure each scar and imperfection is not left untouched. You squirm in her arms.

"Mizu," You hum, voice deep and sultry as you lean your head back, allowing her more space to work with. "You're not working with me."

The raven haired gal laughs against your skin as she continues with her ministrations. You feel her hands rumple the fabric, clutching the soft satin material as it bunches up between her fingers. The hem rises up to your thighs, granting your lover a sweet view of home.

"What?" She asks with a teasing tone. You grumble at her mischievous nature. "I was just answering your question."

"I asked if it fit—" You moan slightly as she sucks on the familiar spot behind your ear. "N-not if I was hot. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Her breath hits your ear with a slight deep chuckle of her voice. You feel her trail her kisses towards the nape of your neck, hands beginning to caress your thighs. You watch as the hem of your dress practically rise up to the top of your thighs, granting no sense of decency. You whine as you feel her kiss down your shoulder blades, tongue licking out to mouth at the valley between your shoulders.

"You're so unfair," You breathe out, back arching as she slides her hands to your hips, pulling you back against hers. She smiles, nudging your head to the side as she buries hers against your neck. Your eyes meet at the reflection, gauging each other's response. You would've thought that her ministrations would end then and there but you shouldn't have underestimated your girlfriend. After all, it's always the quiet ones.

Mizu boldly cups your cunt over your dress—a moan escaping your lips. She pulls you flush against her as she nips against the tip of your ears. You remain pinned against her chest, her arm strength keeping you close.

"You fucker," You pant, mouth opening up to a grin as you gripped her arm. She merely gives a you a smirk as she hikes her hand up, grinding her palm against you. Your knees falter.

"I give you my opinion and you curse me out?" Mizu laughs against your ear, placing a peck on your cheek. "Not cute, babe."

"God, you're so annoying," You sigh, hand reaching out to bury itself in Mizu's raven locks. Your girlfriend merely hums, eyes watching you get lost in the pleasure of her fingers. It's as if the fuse in Mizu's head had began to run out of course, she then pulls away from your back and turns you towards her with ease.

You flush as she manhandles you in her arms, pulling you up to wrap your legs around her waist. You grasp at her shoulders at the sudden movement. She pauses, eyes calculating as she eyes you up like a predator waiting for its prey to back down, and knowing you, you'd never back down just like that.

You wrap your arms around her neck, leaning close to brush your lips against hers. "Gonna pull this dress off me or what?" You hum, nose brushing against hers. "If you're too busy eyeing me up instead of fucking me, I got a pretty handy vibrator back in my cabinet."

She chuckles at your boldness, jaw clenching at your words. "You're a fucking brat, y'know that?"

You giggle as she moves you towards the bed. "Gets you every time."

"Why are you limping like that?" Ringo asks you one day as you met up with him and Akemi for class. Thank the Gods that Ringo is naturally innocent like that. It saves you the embarrassment of having to tell two people what Mizu did to you in the morning. Akemi, however, merely raises an eyebrow at you—shaking her head like a disappointed mother. You had underestimated the time it took to get ready, and Mizu in bed wasn't exactly a good component in your determination to focus in the morning. Add the fact that your horny and Mizu is feeling quite energetic at 7 am.

"When I said that I'm happy for you, I was hoping that you'd get to keep the private matters of your relationship finally to a minimum and not for the whole world to see," Akemi deadpans. Ringo looks at her with furrowed eyebrows. "It's quite contradicting but you get my point."

You give her a sheepish smile at her words while Akemi merely sips on her iced coffee. Ringo turns to you with a smile, his hand forming a thumbs up. "Ignore her, I am happy for you."

Akemi grumbles, shifting her leg over her knee. "Can we not talk about this right now? We're about to have an exam."

You and Ringo share a playful look at Akemi's quips, not wanting to be at the receiving end of Akemi's fury. The classroom was slowly filling in with students—all having the same look of despair and exhaustion for the test in a few minutes. You turn towards your bag, hand rummaging through the array of essentials carefully packed from the night before. Your eyebrows furrow as you can't feel the familiar material of your pen case.

"Oh fuck," You murmur, tone panicking as you peered inside your bag. Ringo and Akemi glance at you in concern.

"What?" Ringo asks, ever the concerned hubby that he is. You let a shaky breath as you can't see the familiar cat patterned pen case that Mizu gifted to you last year. Your essentials for the test were in there! While a pen might've been easy to borrow, the other materials were definitely something you couldn't get away with. You turn to Akemi and Ringo with a frown.

"I think I left my pen case at the dorm." You huff in frustration, glancing at the front to check the time. "I can't go back, there's not enough time."

Akemi sighs, head nudging to your phone. "Check with your girlfriend. She might be nearby."

Your shoulders lower in hesitance. "It's class hours. Don't you think I'll be a bother?"

Ringo chuckles quietly in his seat. "You think Mizu would care about that?"

Akemi snorts before propping her arm on the table to place her chin on her palm. "What he said."

You sigh, contemplating your options before finally giving in.

You put your phone down on the surface of your table, cheeks heating up from the conversation. 15 minutes pass with ease and you're left twiddling your thumbs as you glance back and forth from the door to the clock in front.

Just as she said, Mizu appears at the small window of the door, hand waving awkwardly as she raises your pen case. You immediately stand up from your seat, earning curious glances from Akemi and Ringo. You pay them no mind as you shuffle your way to the door, gently opening it to not draw attention before closing it with a soft push behind you.

"Hey," Mizu's deep voice infiltrates your senses as you turn towards her. You immediately take note of her outfit—dark blue rayon skipper collared blouse with sleeves that reached her arms halfway, pale brown slacks cuffed to her ankles, and a pair of white sneakers. Her hair is in its usual bun with the added flare of her orange tinted glasses. You snicker.

Mizu sighs, tilting her head with a deadpan stare. "Why are you laughing?"

You glance at the empty corridor before wrapping your arms around her waist. "You look like a walking sponsor for Uniqlo."

Mizu scoffed, raising the hand grasping the pen case before gently bonking it on your forehead. "You ought to be more thankful to me, pretty."

You grin up at her, hugging her close as you prop your chin on her sternum. You squint your eyes, giving her your most mischievous look. "I'll be sure to put that on my new year's list."

Mizu rolls her eyes, pushing you gently off her before jokingly slamming your pen case on your hand. "There," She says before presenting another paper bag on your hand. "Also, here."

You glance at the paper bag then at her—those perfectly thick and plucked eyebrows arching at you as she waves the paper bag for you to take. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "What's that?"

Mizu shrugged as you peered inside to see a half filled cup of your favorite drink in a large size. You look up at Mizu who tilts her head to the side with a smile. "I got it this morning. Meant to save some for you."

You purse your lips as your heart softens at the gesture. "Mizu," You coo. The gal only leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead.

"Now go ace that test, bon," She smiles. "I'll get you after class."

She waves you goodbye before jogging towards the elevators. You sigh dreamily as she disappears into the corner before walking back inside your classroom. You maneuver your way towards your desk, earning a couple of side glances from Akemi and Ringo.

You sit down, giddily settling down on your seat before you hear someone clear their throat beside you.

"Homesexuals," Akemi clears her throat beside you to which Ringo snorts at. You shoot a glare at them in response.

Mizu is generally, a patient person.

Despite her grumpy responses towards Ringo or her perpetual furrowed eyebrows, eyes squinted into a glare, and her frowned lips whenever Taigen enters the scene, Mizu still is a patient person. You've rarely seen her angry and when she does become angry, it often comes out in seething silence. Eyes that bore into the depths of your soul, face hardened enough to not show any emotion, and a stance evoking authority and dominion over the situation.

You saw it once. When a guy tried to force himself on you during a campus party. It was an unfortunate event really and you didn't want things to escalate but the man didn't back down with his flirting (if you could even call it that). Let's just say that the night ended with a bruise on their face and it's definitely not Mizu.

You're well aware that your girlfriend can pack a punch and certainly knows how to use it. She's well built and has a lot of strength for someone her stature. Taigen calls it a sleeper build—a passing glance from when Mizu helped out with moving Akemi's furniture to her new condo. You definitely agree with that.

That's why you're internally panicking for the aftermath of a similar situation from Akemi's birthday nightout.

"Mizu," You pant, trying to call for her attention but the blinding force of her anger continues to drive her need for you. "Mizu—Ngh! Please listen to me—"

Mizu continues her ministrations on your neck, paying no mind to your squirming body as her hand grabs your thigh with ease—anchoring it to her waist as she slots her torso between your legs.

"Fuck," She growls against the skin of your neck, hair in disarray from the sloppy and heavy makeout session on the way to your bedroom. You vividly remember knocking a frame off your console table when Mizu slammed you against its edge. "I should've fucked him up."

You whine at the bite of her teeth on your shoulder—grasping at her shoulders. "Baby, we have to talk about this—"

Her thigh slots between your legs and hikes it up against your cunt—you mewl at the pressure. Mizu pulls away from your shoulder, licking her lips as she peers down at you with darkened shades of blue. "Talk? You want to talk?"

Her tone resounds with mockery and sarcasm, a seething remembrance of her fury from just a few hours ago. Typically, this behavior would startle you at first but you've grown to learn and love this blue-eyed woman after the years you've spent pining and being oblivious to each other's affection.

"You're not going to do this to me, Mizu," You snarl back, letting out a breathy sigh as her free hand begins to move your hips against her thigh. "You made us leave Akemi's party because of this—that's not–Hngh—t-that's not okay—Fuck!"

Mizu darkly chuckles as she begins to roam her hand underneath your dress. "You talk too much for someone who's about to get fucked."

"Shut the fuck up," You try to return the dominance but her skillful pulls and push of your hips leaves you breathless and keening at her touch. "That guy isn't even worth it, why'd you even—why?"

Mizu feels the inside of your thigh, reveling in the soft flesh as she creeps closer to your mound. "Didn't like the way he looked at you. Mothefucker had the audacity to ask for your number as if he didn't see my hand gripping your thigh. I fucking hate that."

You feel her fingers teeter over the edge of your panties—skin thumbing the material of your underwear, a surprise you wished would be unveiled in different circumstances.

Mizu kisses your pulse point, making sloppy kisses on the area as she continues to speak. "Everything's worth it if it's you."

You arch and mewl at her words, head moving back to give her more room. Mizu smiles at your reaction.

"You like that?" She chuckles deeply. "Like it when I'm being possessive, huh?"

"Oh God," You groan. "Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Mizu pulls away from your neck, brushing her nose against yours as she peers down at your irritated features. "So demanding," She smiles as she leans close and brushes her lips against yours.

Having had enough, your hand grabs her raven tresses—gripping it as you pull her down to close the distance between your mouths. It's all wet and full of passion—desperate sliding of lips against yours. She tilts her head, begging for deeper access as she slides out her tongue to feel more of you. There's a battle for dominance—a battle she's desperately winning. You pull away with a bite on her bottom lip, gently pulling it before licking your lips.

"Damn." Mizu lets out a breathless chuckle from the kiss, all the more turned on from your confident nature. You smile up at her with a grin.

"I suggest putting all that anger into something useful," You pant as you guide her hand to pull your dress up more.

You watch as she pulls the dress off, eyes widening at the lingerie set you've worn for the night. You see her hunger double at the sight.

"Fuck me up, Mizu." You mewl as you arch your back to present your body to her. Her jaw clenches at your words.

Just as you had said those words, you yelp in surprise as she pulls you down the bed—sheets ruffling in the process before pinning your legs to your chest.

"I'll fucking kill anyone who gets to see you like this," Her words are dark—an apparent shiver running through your spine at the process. You mewl at her domineering figure, watching as she marvels at the way the fabric highlights your figure.

Mizu then moves the fabric covering your cunt to the side, letting out a shaky breath at the process. She dives in without hesitance, tongue poking out to take a straight and slow lick from your hole to your clit.

"Oh!" You moan loudly, hand darting to grasp at her raven locks. "Fuck!"

She wastes no time in eating you out—licking and slurping as if this is the last meal she'll ever have. Your thighs quiver at the magnitude of pleasure she brings forth. You've never been this overwhelmed with the pleasure as you choke over your moans—grasping and clawing at the sheets or her hand gripping your thighs. You eye her arms—sleeves of her button-up hiked up to her elbows, showcasing the veins popping and rising at the harsh grip she has on your body. The sight heats you up even more.

You flush as she peers up at you from the comforts of your pussy—blue eyes clouded with lust and want as she makes precise twirls and flicks with her tongue. Goddamn her mouth feels like fucking heaven.

"You're so pretty," She mouths over your clit, teasing with a few licks before spreading it with her fingers to not let one spot untouched. You moan at her tenacity. "All mine. All fucking mine."

Just as the pleasure couldn't get any worse, Mizu rubs her index and middle over your hole before slipping it inside with ease. With all the wetness from her mouth and the slick coming from you, the penetration is done with no difficulty. She then makes a few thrusts of her fingers before flexing her digits in a come hither motion. The tips of her lengthy digits reach the familiar gummy spot within you. You yelp at the sudden spike of pleasure, thighs slightly closing.

"Right here?" She asks, breathless. You become lost in the pleasure—drunk from the high Mizu's giving you.

"Ngh! Mizu please!" You plead, unsure of what exactly you're asking. Mizu licks her lips before adjusting her hand—palm brushing over your clit. She then begins to speed up her thrusts—making an up-and-down motion on her wrist as wet noises begin to come out of your cunt.

"M-Mizu! F-Fuck—I can't—!" You scream as the tips of her fingers continuously hit that familiar spot. She pays no mind to your whims, ignoring your hands reaching out to grab her arm. It doesn't take too long before you feel an intense knot in your core, as if you're going to release something you shouldn't. With a final flick of her wrist, a ray of clear liquid squirts out of your pussy as you scream in pleasure. You twitch and shiver in her hold as she darts down to slurp up your release.

You whine and keen at the sensitivity, hands darting out to push Mizu away. She continues to lick every part of your cunt—swollen and perfectly pink from her ministriations. "M-Mizu! S-Stop—Hah—please—!"

Once satisfied, the raven-haired gal moves up with a smile. "Good girl," she praises.

You watch as she removes the rest of you and her clothes then untying her hair before adjusting your legs—raising the other as she slots between them. You whine at the sensitivity.

"I can't, please—" You sob, eyes tearing up from being oversensitive. Mizu coos at you as she grinds her cunt against yours. You flinch, hands darting down to her hips.

"Yes you can baby," She kisses your leg, holding it to her shoulder. "You can give me one more, won't you angel?"

You pant as she speeds up her thrusts, the pleasure begins to build up once more. Your first orgasm wasn't far along and so the coming of the second comes with ease. You remain listless on the sheets, eyes watching as Mizu's hips make skillful circles—cunt rubbing against yours deliciously.

"Tell me you're mine," She pants, hair gathered to her shoulder. The sweat and flush on her skin make her more ethereal. "Tell me who do you belong to, hm?"

She demands rather than asks and with the cloudiness of the high she keeps giving you, you succumb to her authority.

"I-I'm yours," You whine, hands gripping her thighs as she begins to speed up. You feel the familiar knot of your climax begin to unravel. "I'm yours."

Mizu's thrusts begin to become inconsistent and with a few more grinds and circles of her hips, you release with a loud moan as Mizu follows after.

She drops down on you with a pant, obviously exhausted from the strenuous activity. There's a moment of reprieve as you revel in the afterglow of sex.

Your laughter breaks the silence. "You should get jealous more often," You jest. "So that I can get laid like this again—Fuck that was good."

Mizu chuckles from her spot on your neck. She props herself up with her arms beside your head. "And here you were asking to talk when we both knew that's never going to happen."

You giggle at her words, arms wrapping around her waist. You then let out a sigh. "God, I love your tongue."

Mizu rolls her eyes, gently removing herself from the sweaty intertwine of limbs. You pout at the loss of her body heat. "Starting to think that you really just love me for my body, don't you?"

You raise your hands in a joking manner. "Consider me guilty."

Mizu throws a pillow towards you before rising from the bed. You admire her naked figure as she runs her fingers through her raven locks. Mizu notices your gaze.

"Keep your eyes to yourself, creep." She squints her eyes to glare. You roll your eyes in response.

"Such a hypocrite," You retort. "As if you weren't rambling about how possessive you we—AGH!"

The raven-haired girl tackles you into the bed, hands coming to tickle you to death. You both laugh and giggle at each other, reveling in the atmosphere brought forward by your chemistry.

You suppose you could never get tired of this. Not when it's Mizu.

___

There's not much change after you and Mizu finally got together but u suppose its probably the cat

Mizu has the tendency to match with your outfit. Whenever you ask her abt it, she just claims its a coincidence

When Mizu got her first camera, she took pictures of you and her together. She got the film printed. (She has a picture of you on the back of her phone and you have hers on yours)

Your go to gift for Mizu are socks and tea

Mizu is eerily similar to Nora. Sometimes you catch them pausing and staring at each other in the living room. it's quite funny.

Peers around campus are funnily giving you thumbs up and congratulatory shakes as if you getting together is a monumental achievement in history (It's bc of Taigen).

Mizu becomes all the more service-giving once you get together (she opens doors for you, pulls your chair for you to sit on, brushing a stray hair away from your face). She likes it bc u give her kisses now.

Mizu subconsciously plays with your fingers when holding hands. Though her fave part to put her hand on is your thighs. she claims that she likes the feeling.

Mizu often asks for your opinion on things whether it be for work, academics, or day to day life. Its because she regards you important and dear to her. She wants to share her life with you.

The moment you disclosed your relationship with your friends, Ringo legit pulled out a party popper

Mizu IS a walking UNIQLO sponsor (you cannot count how many rayon blouses she has in her closet. she claims its bc she likes the fabric)

You jokingly proposed to Mizu with a candy pop ring. Mizu proposed to you back with a can tab.

Mizu orders her drinks in the largest cup size bc she gives it to u after when u meet up for lunch mwehe (coincidentally its your fave drink as well)

Taigen was so confused as to why Mizu just bolted from her seat (pen case part) during their lab time together and when he asked what happened when she came back, she said, "Ah. Bonnie needed help." Taigen wants to explode.

Mizu is quite open to casual PDA. she says goodbye to u in the form of forehead kisses.

overall, you and Mizu are just so cute and so mwa mwa and i just wanna put yall in my pocket hehe

______________

A/N: HEYAAA this is finally done. not proofread so im gonna have to make edits to this tom. happy new year everyone !!! hope u like this roommate mizu! also to the ppl who saw this halfway done... no u didnt ....

[kookblurx]

" I love you " - cloud pov [ oneshot ]

→ SUMMARY: cloud was never good with his words. a guy who appears to be cold towards others but since a few days he seems .. different towards you. its like something is burning on his tounge.

→ GENRE: fluff; awkward; innocent; confession; mutual feelings; golden retriver energy.

→ RATING: 13+

→ NOTE: i know this is something completely different from the things i normally write. normally i only write about jungkook and taehyung but since FF7 came out .. i found my love for Cloud again. So i decided to write a pov about him. maybe more will follow on the future. also please keep in mind that english isnt my mother tounge, thanks. IMPORTANT; The city mentioned never appeared in the games. its my own interpretation! also my gaming povs mostly never matches with the games.

♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS ONESHOT

your hands were sweaty as you were sitting outside in front of the old house. it wasnt something fancy, just an old block house deep inside the woods which served as some kind of shelter for your little group. The cold evening air blew a few strands of hair into your face. It would be a while before he would come outside to join you. for a short moment you regretted volunteering for this sort of misson, not that it would be difficult. this wasnt the reason why you suddenly became so nervous. You looked up at the darkening sky with your lips pressed together. A few small stars could be seen here and there, so it was a perfect evening to search for a flower which only blooms once a month on a full moon night. The fabric of your light blue dress began to rustle as you moved back and forth on the tree trunk. its been 20 minutes already, what took him that long? you wiped your sweaty hands on your dress once again. If this continues you would have to go back inside to change again. surely tifa would raise an eyebrow, probably asking herself if that was some kind of sheme from you. making sure that "he" will really come with you. he trusted you, so you trusted him, naturally. but still, you were nervous. This would be the first time in months that you've done something alone together. The others accompanied you on every other mission. You loved your friends but sometimes you wished you had more time alone with him. from behind the old wooden door finally opened but you were too nervous to turn around to face him yet.

"are you ready?" his voice was gentle in your ear which why you finally turned around.

the second you did, you cursed yourself for not preparing a bit longer. the man in front of you was none other than Cloud Strife, your best friend, your companion and the men you had a crush on for so many months now. cloud had always been beautiful in your eyes but tonight he looked completely different. his armor was gone, so he only wore his dark turtleneck tank top, matched with a pair of dark pants. your eyes traveled down on his arms as you noticed that he also werent wearing the gloves which he was normally wearing. compared to him you looked like always. even his blonde styled hair looked a bit messy underneath the rising moonlight.

"whats wrong? did you saw a ghost?" raising one of his eyebrows, cloud crossed his arms in front of his chest. "i- uh no! you just look so different ..." "dont be silly and come ..."

without another word he finally started walking ahead. cloud never talked much, not even with you so it wasnt suprising that he didnt paid much attention to your remark. slowly you started to follow him into the woods. the both of you only heard rumours about this special flower. apparently it glows in the dark whenever moonlight hits one of its petals. beside that it didnt had any powers but tifa really wanted to plant one on her garden. at first you thought you could go alone but the second cloud heard that you were going outside at night, alone, he decided to tag along.

fidgeting with your fingers all you could see was his back in front of you. cloud even left his buster sword at home. looking down at his bare hand a slight glimmer of red crawled up your cheeks. there was only one time were you held hands with him and this only happened because of a small accident. it happened on one of the many Shinra ships. cloud was busy fighting off some of the soldiers while you were busy cracking the code to the main gate. It wasn't a difficult task as long as cloud could distract the others, but one soldier didn't seem to fall for it. suddenly someone grabbed your shoulder and pushed you backwards. you landed roughly against the nearest wall. Of course, cloud noticed this and immediately rushed to your side. he grabbed your hand to pull you behind him. the whole time he protected you, he never let go of your hand. so that was the closest you ever got to holding his hand with him. beside that nothing romantic ever happened between the two of you. after a while you came to the conclusion that cloud, probably, doesnt like you like this. in the beginning this perception was hard and you were heartbroken for days. maybe it was too much to ask for, considering how clumsy cloud is and that he doesnt really talk about his feelings.

"everything okay?" you nearly bumped against his chest, not noticing that cloud has stopped in his steps. were you sighing again? did he heard it? you could feel how your cheeks grew hotter with every passing second. in a fast motion you shook your head as cloud took a step into your direction. "are you sure? you were sighing pretty loudly. are you already tired? If yes .. dont worry we are nearly there"

you wanted to answer something but cloud turned around again. expecting to take up his pace you took a step forward but in the next moment something warm slipped into your hand. suprised your eyes darted downward and at the same time your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. cloud held your hand, he really held your hand. slowly your fingers closed around his palm. Whenever you pictured this day in your head, you never imagined that his hand would be so soft. it was like you were holding a fluffy cloud in your palm, carefully not to crush it.

with a slow motion cloud slowly started to walk again. like usual he didnt addressed the thing he just did and you were fine with it. by now you were too busy to calm down your pounding heart inside your chest. slowly cloud pulled you between some green bushes into a clearing. you could imagine that in this meadow many beautiful flowers were blooming, since its been night most of them were sleeping peacefully. As your eyes scanned the meadow, they stopped in a certain place. You immediately let go of cloud hand just so you could run to that spot.

"hey Y/N! whats wrong?" his voice rang in your ear but your eyes didnt left the spot. this was it, this wasnt a dream right?

suddenly you came to a halt and kneeled down on the ground. right in front of you were the glowing flower. it was so beautiful that you didnt even noticed how cloud kneeled down on the ground right beside you.

"its beautiful isnt it ...?" you asked him as your fingertips brushed over the delicate petals "yes ... more than beautiful" "say cloud how should we-"

the moment you turned your head into his direction you noticed that he was looking at you. cloud's face was so close and yet so far at the same time. from this distance you could clearly see his eyes which looked so beautiful to you. some other people were scared of him because of the Mako in them but for you, it was something totally normal. the glow from the flower was illuminating his face and for the first time you were able to see a slightly red shimmer on his cheeks. was he blushing? slowly you lift your hand up just to make sure youre not dreaming. mid air cloud catched your wrist with his own hand just to place it against his cheeks. at the same time your eyes widen feeling his soft warm skin at the back of your hand. what was wrong with him all of a sudden? why was he so affectionate?

"im sorry. i lied to you Y/N" "w-what do you mean ... ?" "tifa didnt wanted that flower. i just ... wanted to show you something beautiful ... and i thought such a flower would be the perfect thing you would enjoy"

you could see the hurt in his eyes, probably thinking you would be mad at him now. shaking your head you turned your hand inside of his palm into an direction so you were able to cup his cheek. how could you have been so blind? yes cloud never talked about his feelings but he always made sure to show them. especially around you he was always considerate, making sure that you felt comfortable on all their journeys.

a small smile appeared on your face "im not mad. thank you for showing me something so .. beautiful cloud."

the moment you pulled away from him to get up again, cloud squeezed your hand more tightly. in the next second your cheek was met with his chest, the soft fabric of his turtleneck shirt carressing your skin.

"cloud ...?" "Y/N I ..."

it was clear to you that he was struggling to find the right words. with a smile on your face you slowly lifted your head up, the red on his cheeks grew heavier with every second he kept looking at you. anxiety crawled up inside of you as his grip loosens around your body, what if he changed his opinion about you? a nervous chuckle escaped your mouth as you wanted to turn your head away but clouds hand on your cheek forced you to look back. there wasnt much time to contemplate what to say because in the next moment his warm lips met yours. at once your whole body felt like jelly as it immediately relaxed inside of his arms. it wasnt a passionate kiss he shared with you, it was a soft and careful kiss. clouds heartbeat hammered against your chest, it was so strong and loud that you could hear and feel it. as you wrapped both of your arms around his body to kiss him back, he slowly broke the kiss. clouds lips were still hovering above yours, just millimeters away. it was a sweet distraction from the words he finally managed to say;

"I love you, YN"

those words were enough, nothing more needed to be said. with a small nod your head moves forward to occupy his lips again. that was everything cloud needed as an an answer. the moon kept shining down on the both of you, wrapping your bodies in blue moonlight. it was like the whole forest approved of your feelings to each other as all the animals went quiet. around the both of you some fireflies took off from the grass into the sky. this moment belonged to you and cloud, no one could take this away from you anymore.

[emyladia]

I want you back... | L. Nr

pairing : lando norris x f!reader

summary : you and lando had broke up a few months ago and you're just now moving on. Or so you thought... 'Cause that was before he decide to text you.

genre : fluff, slightly angst ?

warning : cursing, pretty sure that's all

a/n : I just loooove writting about lando. This is kinda shitty but it was fun to write hope you'll enjoy it ! Anyways taking request if you want.

You were fine, of course the break up has been really tough for you but now you could say it loud and proud : you were over it.

What a lie...

All it took was a damn text for your world to fall into piece again.

"Hey"

It was 3 AM when you screen lit up, and now that single word was making you completly crazy.

What the hell ? Why would he be texting you ? Maybe a wrong number ? Was he drunk ?

Your head was just a huge mess at the moment, that's probably because of that that you decided to answer. You clearly wouldn't have if you were in your plain consciousness.

At least that's what you were trying to convinced you.

"Hey" You text back.

"It's been a while" He answered in less than a minute.

"WTF lando ?" You couldn't help but send, this wasn't making any sense.

He was the one to broke up with you, and he hadn't even try to contact you the past months. Why would he texts you ? And why now when you were finally moving on ?

"I miss you"

You had turn off your phone after this text.

Like what were you supposed to say ? That you too you were missing him ? That in fact you were missing him so damn much it was hurting you ? That you were missing him so bad that sometimes you were calling your male friends by his name ?

You just couldn't answered that.

You were having lunch with your a few friends, yet the text just wouldn't leave your mind.

You had basically stared at it the whole morning.

"Hey, you're okay y/n ?" One of your friend asked.

"Oh yeah sorry I was just lost in my thoughts" You tried to brush it off, chuckling a little.

"You seem a bit off today, no offense but we've barely heard you" Another one of your friend spoke with a concern look on her face.

They were all nodding, as you sighed.

You should probably just told them, theywere your closest friends and it's not like you could keep that to yourself anyway.

"Lando texted me" You blurted out looking down.

A loud silence followed your confession as you saw all their eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sorry WHAT ?" One of them finally spoke.

"Lando in like LANDO ?" Another continued.

And they all followed, throwing questions at you.

You showed them the conversation, way easier and they all gasped at the last text.

"What are you gonna do ? You should probably block him" Your friend said, they seemed tp all agree.

"Yeah I should do that" You nodded.

They were probably right, that was the best things to do. They were the one who had picked you up piece by piece when Lando broke up with you.

You were gonna do just that, blocked him and he would be out of your life forever.

God you were so weak.

When you went home and were about to block him another text illuminated your screen.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, you're not mad are you ?"

You swear your fingers had just moved on their own.

"I'm not mad, I was just busy sorry" You replied, and you knew you had fucked up, that needed to stop and yet you were encouraging him.

"I'm so relieved to hear that ! How you're doing ?"

Damn why was he answering so fast.

"Just casual life nothing too entertaining, you ?"

"Pretty much the same"

It was gonna be fine, it was a simple discussion between two young adults. Nothing to worry about.

"The paddock feels empty without you" He added.

Shit. This wasn't fine at all.

"Is that so ?" You were kicking your feet like a damn teenager.

"Yeah, can't win a race without you" You knew, and he knew this was border, but to be honest you weren't caring at all.

"Can't win a race at all" You joked, you were giggling. God you've missed talking to him, even for simple discussion like that.

You shouldn't felt that way, or you were gonna end up sad again, but you couldn't help it.

"OFFENSIVE" He texted back, but you knew he was laughing.

You and Lando kept talking for hours, you were smiling at your phone like a maniac.

He was such a good talker, smooth, funny, full of charm.

He knew how to annoy you and how to make you laugh the most. He also knew how to hurt you the most.

You were currently laying in bed, watching 'pretty woman' when you got another text from your ex boyfriend.

"I really do miss you tho"

Here you were again, staring at the screen like it contained the answer to the greatest mystery on earth.

"Lando, stop that please" You eventually texted back after a few minutes.

"That what ?"

"That thing that you're currently doing, trying to make me pity you"

"Is it working ?"

"Lando..."

"Cmon y/n I'm serious, I fucking miss you, every minute of every day"

You were no longer paying any attention to the movie that was still playing on the screen of your laptop.

"YOU chosed to broke up" You remembered him.

"I know I made a damn mistake, and I'm sorry"

"You know what I don't even want to talk you anymore"

"Y/n don't do that"

"I should have blocked you already"

"But you didn't"

You were infuriating, completly messed up by too many emotions at the same time, you were sad, and angry against him, and against you too cause you were so weak for this man.

He was right, you didn't.

"Babe please, I just want you back" He sent you a few minutes later since you weren't answering.

"Should have thought about that sooner, and don't call me that"

"I'd do anything" He insisted.

"Claim me on TV and I'll think about it" You texted saracstically before turning off your phone.

You and lando had never been public, because fans could be crazy at some times and you were finding it absolutly ridiculous to brag on social media that you were in a relationship.

That's why you had said that, that wasn't making anysense. Maybe now he'll understand that this was definitly over.

Or so you thought.

When you woke up your phone was blowing up with notification.

A lot of demands on instagram and hundreds of texts from your friends.

You were so confused until you clicked on the link your friend had sent you.

It was an interview of Lando that he hade just done but the views were already so high. Why would she send you that ?

Everything become clear when right before ending the interview Lando spoke :

"Actually I want to say something before leaving, I used to date a girl Y/n Y/l/n, she was amazing but I messed up with her cause I was a complete idiot... So if you're ever seeing this please come back, I know I've been an asshole. But I really want you back"

What.

In.

The.

World.

Was.

Happenning.

You grabbed your phone and dialed his number immediatly... No answer.

"What have you done ???" You tyepd agressively on your keyboard completly freacked out.

[kill4luvina]

"Face down, Ass up"

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Producer!Erenx Rapper!Reader

Summary : Eren is your one and only producer and you both seem to be having a creativity block while out on a trip looking for creativity and Eren has the bright idea that you two should fuck it out.

Warning : Smut, Reader using N-word, Alcohol, not proofread, (might be more but im not sure).

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"I'll treat any bitch like a whore, Cause it's the way I like to fuck, It's face down and ass up"

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

"Eren.." You'd say in attempt to wake him up from his short nap he had taken in the uber. Tapping him a few times as she groaned opening his eyes. "Nigga wake up!" You'd raise your voice getting out of the uber as he followed behind you tired. Putting into the pin into the Air Bnb door as your entered turning the lights on making eren groan again. "I don't know why you being like that, you've been sleep in there for the past hour." you'd roll your eyes annoyed as you went into the kitchen.

You both had been out all morning and nothing sparked your creativity, you wanted to write but you litterally had no ideas. Grabbing one of you're left over bottles of 'Diva Vodka' from earlier you slip off your black leather rick owens sneakers tossing them to the side before pouring yourself a cup. "Why you been so stressed?" Eren would ask walking up with his own glass cup as you poured him some too.

"Bro, We've been here for bout' I wanna say a week and I haven't written anything yet!" You'd rant starting to chug down your drink as he watched you in shock. "You gotta chill-" you'd look at him before putting the bottle away as you made your way up to your room. Once agan Eren would follow you bringing the shoes you had left up with him. Making it to your room he'd put them with the rest of your shoes.

"Yk, I got an idea on how we could maybe get rid of that art block..." He'd say on the edge of your bed looking down at his glass cup, noticing you get slightly excited he turn around a gave you a kiss catching you completely off guard. You had him had has sex a few times so he knew you were alright with it as soon as you started kissing back.

"REN WAIT!!" You'd moan feeling him full enter you at once, holding onto your pillow tightly at the feeling of him completely stretching you out. Tears welling up in your eyes as he kept your ass up leaving you in a perfect arch as he slowly started moving completely demolishing your pussy as your cried out trying to run. It was just too good, and your were struggling to handle it. Eye's rolling back with your tongue out drooling at the feeling of him drilling ya' shit holding you down in that position.

"You like that ma?" He'd ask holding you by your neck bringing you up as he place kisses in the crook of your neck as you cried not even know what was going on anymore, or who you were. "FUCK!" You'd moan even louder feeling him hit your g-spot over and over completely abusing it. The way he was fucking you had you imaging maybe getting married to this nigga if dick would always be this good. "Cmon mama, tell me how good I'm doing or I'll stop." He'd whisper in your right ear leaving kisses behind it as you whimpered shivering from the contact in the sensitive spot.

"Ren! Y-Your doing so well! Fuckkkk- fuck me jus' like that!" you'd continue to babble and moan crying feeling like you were on the edge not wanting him to stop. It was completely game over the moment you felt his fingers touch your clit, throwing you off the edge as you came, creaming all over his dick. Twitching and crying as you felt him keep going overstimulating you like never before. "Too much!" You'd moan throwing your head back on him as he quickly pushed your head back down fucking you even harder.

Feeling him start to twitch in you was the sign he was about to cum, but so were you. Again. Crying loudly into the pillow as you felt yourself completely fall off the edge again you'd feel a warm liquid leave your body, as you squirted all over eren dick as he pulled out cumming on your ass. "Damn, since when could she do this?" Eren would ask chuckling as he gave your pussy a kiss before tappin that ass one more time and walking to the bathroom to run you a bath and clean you up.

"Omg! I have a great idea!" You'd mumble to yourself, but to your suprise eren heard. "See, I told you it would help!" He'd say from the bathroom making you giggle as you fell asleep after telling yourself you'd just quickly rest your eyes.

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[so-mordor-itis]

Behind Her Eyes

Synopsis: Ada continues to track down the amber while also running into you and Leon time and time again. Hopefully, she won't have any more distractions than she has been given. After all, she's just doing her job.

Sequel to Through Her Eyes

N/A: THIS IS BEEFY!! I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!

WC: 3k.

Taglist: @amatxs , @airanke , @uhlunaro , @honeyfict , @im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @pepsicolacoochie , @inaflashimagine , @phoenix666stuff , @rentaldarling , @boiled-onionrings , @auxenpin-it , @starbirdfinch , @m4nd0l0r , @mahalaraewolfe , @mobbbb1 , @konigbabe , @izuniias , @tosuckmyweenis @boundinparchment

"You long to be bandaged before you have been cut." –Margaret Atwood

—

"You can stop right there, Leon. Wouldn't make me use this, would you?" Ada had pressed her pistol to one of his shoulder blades. She cocked it, letting it sit against his shirt for a second. She wanted him to know she was willing to use it if required. She meant business.

Leon dropped his weapon a second later. "Well, after six years, that's one hell of a greeting, Ada." He said her name with a bit of a bite. Not quite a sneer, but teetering toward that territory. "What's the occasion?"

Ada just smirked, tilting her head to the side. She wanted to get under his skin, because if she didn't he wouldn't be curious, and if he didn't become curious then her plan of action to steer him away from the amber would fall through the floor. He may have become more rigid with his movements, a bit snappier with his sentences, but he was still the same rookie cop she met back in Raccoon. "You don't seem surprised. Interesting."

With a single step, he attempted to grab the gun from her hand. Ada retaliated, leading to dance with Leon's knife. She blocked it several times, hoping to lead it away from anything fatal. He caught her slightly off guard when the hilt of his blade touched the red turtleneck she was wearing, and she paused. Maybe he had learned more than she thought.

"Try using knives next time," Leon said, "Better for close encounters."

"Very smooth," Ada responded. "You've learned a few tricks."

Leon ignored her comment. "Who are you working for this time? Definitely not the FBI."

"Oh, Leon," Ada tutted. "You know I don't work and tell."

Leon released the knife from her throat, placing it back into the pouch on his left shoulder. Ada observed him for a moment. He was wary, she could tell from the way he was looking around the room. Ada had a bite back a frown. His eyes were different now. His pupils were yellowish, and whites were now a bit cloudy. They must've drugged him, or maybe he was infected like the girl and the rest of Saddler's lackies. She didn't comment on it. Wasn't her place.

She didn't know what happened to you if you two split up or you simply wandered from him and lost your footing. All she knew was that she found him in this room and finally decided to show herself–well, more than she had when he was being attacked by the taller man in the trench coat. Though she had to admit it was intriguing that you weren't with him.

"Where's your little partner?" Ada asked, "I'd thought they'd be tagging alongside you."

Leon furrowed his brows. "That's something I'd like to know, too. I turned my back for one second, and suddenly, they're gone. This whole damn castle is a maze." He wasn't surprised Ada knew about you, either.

"How troubling," she murmured.

Leon didn't reply. He was lost in his own thoughts. His right hand clenched into a fist. A plan was swimming in his mind, but Ada didn't want to concentrate too hard on him.

"You should give up on the girl," she continued. "She's lost no matter what." Ada eyed the window, moonlight shining through in brilliant lines of white. She couldn't stay much longer. "You walk away now, and who knows? I might give you the greeting you were hoping for."

Leon didn't look impressed, and that made something coil in Ada's chest. "You think I'm gonna give up? Simply leave? You're wrong for thinking so." His voice was laced with annoyance.

Ada just looked at him. "Right." Opening the window, she used her grappling hook to latch onto one of the ledges of the castle. "See you around, Leon."

Though he tried to look more irritated, she saw his eyes soften for a slight second–or maybe her mind was starting to slip. She was a bit tired, but she couldn't give that any thought. Ada shook that off her shoulders the moment she landed on one of the roof shingles. One crunched under her foot as she prepared to give another report to Wesker.

–

She found you before he did. You were out of bullets, poor thing.

Hunched over a chair, you were taking a glimpse at an old map of the castle. The paper was brown and torn apart, it would've been a miracle if you could've actually interpreted the damn thing.

"Fuck," you moaned. "Why did they have to build so many passages? What is this, the 1500s?"

Ada had to prevent herself from rolling her eyes. You and Leon were definitely a lot alike. You both spoke to yourselves, talking as if there was an audience. She wondered what the point was, if it gave you two satisfaction.

A sudden thump echoed from one of the many doors in the room. Robed figures, all muttering phrases in Spanish, carried torches and maces. Your face soured into a deeply tired look. From what Ada could understand, you had empty rounds, and your knife was broken–it was on top of the table you placed the map upon, the metal pieces covering the brown paper.

The figures got closer to you, and Ada watched as your eyes fixated on one of the doors. You could try to make a run for it, bolt to the door in hopes you could find more resources. Though, how realistic is that? Ada thought.

She found herself subconsciously feeling for one of her flash grenades. Was she really going to help you at the cost of her own resources? That'd be a bit of a waste. She could easily find herself in a similar situation.

Though it would turn out she didn't need to. Your eyes brightened as you shuffled for something in your pocket. A grenade of your own, but not of the flash variety. You pulled the trigger with your teeth before tossing it.

She flew through the window to avoid the blast. From where she was, she would've definitely felt something.

Ada was a bit disappointed. She could've told Leon he owed her another favor.

She bit her lip before reaching for her radio and tracing through each signal. She estimated the closest one to her was Leon, and she guessed right.

"Leon, change your mind yet?"

"Ada?" He was surprised.

"Assuming you haven't, I got a tip for you," Ada glanced back into the castle. More robed figures began marching through doors, their speed picking up with every second. "Seems like something big is about to go down in the throne room. I also found your little friend. They're heading in that direction. Babysitting's tough, huh?"

She hung up her signal right after.

–

Ada didn't bother backtracking again. It would've torn a chunk of her time away.

She hated that something inside her wanted to.

She had radioed to him again later on, giving what she knew he'd want. He wasn't as rough as he was to her previously, perhaps because you were now there to calm his storm, or maybe he just decided to be less harsh. She didn't know, and she wanted to force herself not to care.

He wasn't her's anymore.

–

"Looking for these?" Ada dangled the keys to the boat you two occupied. Leon had been attempting to scavenge them but couldn't manage to. It was her boat, these keys were hers. She could've easily allowed you two to be deserted and not find the girl again. However, she was feeling rather generous.

She tossed them to Leon, and you eyed her form. Your brows furrowed as if you were attempting to recall if you've met her. You two haven't, technically. She knew who you were by bits and pieces, and that's all she needed. "I could use a ride myself."

You and Leon exchanged glances, but she knew ultimately that they wouldn't be given a choice. Leon knew, too. "Fine." He said.

You sat in the back, Leon very cautiously sat in the passenger’s seat because Ada offered to drive. Leon tried to be subtle about it, but Ada noticed. He glanced at you for a second before putting his eyes back to the ocean in front of him.

He was holding back words, and she knew it. "You look like you've got something to say." Ada claimed. He didn't just look it. It radiated off of his skin, and he spoke it with his eyes. He was questioning himself about why she was here, and it kept floating around inside that mind of his.

Though, she would admit she was being unfair, asking this in front of you.

Leon just said, "Nothing." And Ada clicked her tongue.

"Hm."

"Why are you here, Ada?" He blurted. It was too late to catch himself.

"As I told you, Leon, I don't work and tell."

Ada peered at you, giving a side eyed glance. You weren't asking her questions, nor were you giving her any type of expression. Your body language wasn't indicating you felt anything but indifference. You were keeping to your own business. (You glanced at Leon a few times, keeping tabs, watching his reactions. You knew him, too, it seemed.)

How polite.

Or perhaps you felt vexed and wanted to slit her throat right then and there. Either way, you were good at hiding it. (She noticed your pupils, the whites of your eyes. You were also infected, and she wondered if Leon knew, too.)

"I'm stopping here," Ada said shortly. There was a ridge up ahead on a rock she could grapple from. Krauser now had the sample, and he was making her job so much harder than it needed to be.

She stopped the boat just enough so she could stand. Ada pulled herself up. She looked back at him and winked. "Don't think too hard, handsome. See you later." The momentum of her pushing her body weight off the boat caused it to rock the both of you back and forth, Leon fought to steady it.

From the ledge, Ada could barely make out your voices.

"Old flame?" You questioned.

"Something like that," Leon grumbled in response. "It's not relevant."

"Alright, you just seemed so bothered by her."

"She's…" He paused. "Something else."

Ada expected a different phrase from him but was pleasantly surprised.

"She seems interesting."

"I don't want to think about her. Let's just focus on Ashley."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Leon's voice was softer now. "Yeah, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"What if I want to?"

Ada removed herself from the area and continued forward, not wanting to listen to anymore of your conversation.

–

Her carrier pigeon was no longer alive, creating a bigger problem. Luis had told Ada the amber was on the island, and Saddler had kept a tight leash on it. That wasn't a surprise, really. It contained the very being he and his cult worshiped. And, to make her workload harder, Krauser contained a sample of the plaga that Wesker would find fascinating. What he would do with it, she had no idea.

"Where on the island, Luis?" She inquired, flexing her fingers as she observed her nails.

"I'll take you there, just…" He paused to scratch his stubble. "Just let me finish some business first."

"May I remind you, you're under thin ice? Better to cooperate, baby."

"Alright, it's…it's in the very middle of the island. It'll be surrounded by Ganados and other not so friendly things."

She never ran into the not so friendly beings, but she did encounter many Ganados that were too trigger happy. The island itself was mostly constructed to be a weapon base–it was so obviously guarding something. With barbed wire traps and metal buildings and caves full of laboratories.

She found the amber eventually in a secluded area. It was grossly beautiful, leaving an orange glow on the floor that was reflected off of a light in the room. The smaller parasites inside reminded her of Umbrella's lab specimens. Removing this larger rock would be an issue; there would need to be a strong distraction, one that would hold their attention long enough for her to give her helicopter friend a signal to load it on.

Leon.

He would have to be her distraction.

And he was.

–

The girl lay upon a sacrificial table, black veins crawling up her arms. Leon's veins popped from his arms, blackened as the girl's. You were in the same boat, groaning in pain on your knees as Saddler began to control the parasite from within.

Ada had two choices. She could allow you and Leon to die here, being suffocated by the plaga in your systems, or she could risk it all.

Ada couldn't do it. She couldn't let him die.

She pulled out her TMP and shot Saddler with what seemed to be the entire round. "Go, Leon!" She shouted to him. "Before it's too late!"

He fell forward, catching his breath. He grabbed your shoulder and then went for Ashley, picking her up bridal style. The two of you began to push yourselves forward, but she couldn't watch now. "That's six times now, Leon." She mumbled.

Saddler managed to squeeze out every last bullet Ada had thrown at him. She had two more guns, but it wouldn't be enough. All she could do was buy more time for you guys. Maybe that's all you needed.

It wasn't long before she only had her pistol left. Saddler used one of his appendages to grab her by the leg and slammed her down on the ground. Her ears rang so loud she couldn't even hear her own heartbeat. Her mouth tasted of iron. She might've bitten her tongue without realizing it. One more smack to the head, and her world went black.

What woke her up was the hard smack of landing on the ground. Her vision was a bit blurry, but she could make Leon's figure. He was holding his pistol. You were nowhere to be found.

Ada quickly got on her feet, approaching him as Saddler appeared from behind, transforming into a hideous creature, further reminding Ada of the experiments she witnessed in the Umbrella underground lab. It had been six years, but those images would never be removed. They were stuck to her mind like glue.

Just like back then, he was her partner once more, but Ada had a feeling this would be the final time.

–

Saddler was defeated with a blow from a rocket launcher. Ada took a deep breath, rubbing her arms as they screamed at her with ache. It was over. Now, she just had to get on the damn helicopter. She gave her men the signal to grab the amber during the fight, while Leon kept him occupied, dancing to his tune. She felt a little more bad this time; she'd used him again.

The sample of the plaga rolled out of Saddler's staff and onto the ground next to Leon. Ada grabbed it before Leon could blink.

"Ada? What the hell?"

She glanced at the bottle of purple liquid with curiosity. "Nothing personal, Leon. Just business." Ada pulled a device out of her pocket and pressed a button that said,"Detonate. " She had to get rid of the evidence, after all. "Though, I definitely recommend you leave. Now."

Leon got the hint, and he sprung to his feet, his eyes wide. Ashley. You. Ada knew immediately to whom his mind went.

Her ride appeared a millisecond later, and she strided toward it, no regrets in her gait. She turned to him. "You coming?" Part of her knew his answer already, but the other part wanted him to ditch everything and just come. Come with her, talk to her. Maybe they could fix things.

"You and I both know this is where we go back to what we were, Ada," Leon said, looking her directly in the eye. "It's time to go separate ways."

"Unsurprising," she clicked her tongue, finally meeting where the helicopter leveled for her to board. She jumped, landing gracefully. "Catch," she shouted, throwing another pair of keys at him. "It's your ride home."

Leon glanced to his palm and shook his head. His lips mouthed something, but the helicopter blades were too loud for her to hear. She watched his now tiny form sprint in the opposite direction, probably now headed your way.

"You got it?" Ada demanded, placing a headset atop her ears. Helicopters were always so loud that she could never hear herself think.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Put me in," she followed. Wesker needed to know his precious Amber was secured.

A part of her wished she could see Leon one more time. To tell him things she never could.

Beneath her serious look, she always cared for him.

–

(Ingrid had ordered a chopper to find you three once you reached the ground. Ashley had immediately fallen asleep, and her head landed on your shoulder. Leon took note of it, the way you gently lifted her head so she'd be more comfortable, the way you parted her hair as a parent would. He didn't know why it made his heart feel warm.

"Did you have feelings for her?" You asked suddenly. Leon blinked. For a slight moment, he thought you meant Ashley, and he was about to be very confused. But no, you meant Ada.

"Yeah," Leon answered after a few seconds. "She made me feel like we had something back in Raccoon City. Then, well, you know how stories like this usually play out."

"She betrayed you?"

"A summary, but yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

You wrinkled your nose. "I didn't want to pry."

"You weren’t, I mean, she was being unfair, asking me things in front of you." Leon shrugged. "Anyone would be curious."

It was silent now. You had thoughts racing in your mind, and Leon could tell from the way your forehead wrinkled.

"I don't think about her much anymore." Leon said. "I have more important people to think about now." He was looking at you when he said that. You blinked a little before giving him an embarrassed smile.

"Alright, Mr. Kennedy, no flirting on the job."

"Mission's over, isn't it?")

–

[zaceouiswriting]

The favorite Bat-Brother?

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd and Brother!Male Reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Slight Brutality

The warm summer sun shone on the beautiful world. On a day like this, you would usually have been sitting by the pool or challenging your brothers to a water fight, but instead, you were in the garage working on your car to distract yourself from what you saw the day before. 

To say you were heartbroken would be an understatement. For the first time in your life, you cried. You had felt like a schoolgirl as you stormed through the front door of your home and cried your heart out. On your way to the room, you ignored your brothers' and even Alfred's pleas to talk, but you couldn't speak. Since then, you've been ignoring everyone, whether, in your bedroom or the garage, you always had your headphones on.

So it was no wonder someone tapped you or, in this case, gently kicked your leg. That alone let you know who it was, and that didn't help your terrible mood.

As you rolled your board down, on which you went under the car, the light was blinding, but you, thankfully, didn't have to get used to it because Damian came to stand over you, blocking the light. He looked moody as always, but that day he seemed strange. Suddenly, he motioned for you to take out your earbuds, which you did, only for him to squad next to you.

“Do you remember Alek? The tall black-haired one? The one who models part-time?” Damian asked you casually. But his words broke your heart even more.

“You mean my boyfri- sorry, ex-boyfriend?”

“Whatever,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. But before you could tell him to fuck off if he wanted to make fun of you, he suddenly took your hand and played with your longer fingers. It could only mean one thing: he had done something he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do.

"What happened? Did he do something to you? Do I have to punch him?"

Damian looked at you questioningly, as you both knew that as the only pacifist in the Bat Family, you wouldn't do that. Still, it made Damian smile.

“I think he learned his lesson.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him suspiciously because his questionable words made you feel uneasy.

“Someone got to his car last night, you know, the red sports car, where he cheated on you with this blonde girl. That someone scratched his car paint and broke his windows with a crowbar.”

You were stunned, unable to speak, and not knowing what to say. On the one hand, you were grateful, but on the other, you were afraid that he might get negatively involved with the law, even though your family is filthy rich. However, Damian had taken your silence strangely as he was fiddling with something in his pocket while, at the same time, moving nervously and still playing with your hand. You didn't know whether he was excited or nervous.

But since you still hadn't said anything after a few minutes, Damian took his hand out of his pocket, placed it in your open palm, and dropped something into it. As he pulled his hand back, you saw something small that looked vaguely like a small pebble. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. When you raised your gaze again, words were on the tip of your tongue, but when you looked at Damian's nervous face, your throat tightened.

Nothing was said for a moment, but when your eyes finally met, you saw the fear in his green orbs, letting you know you had to say something.

“What is the meaning of this?” You asked him quietly. “Why did you give me a pebble?”

Damian shrugged. "When I destroyed the dickhead's car, he was there too," he finally confessed. “He won’t be doing any more photo shoots anytime soon,” he continued cryptically. “Unfortunately, he was with a gang I was hunting for a while.”

You were stunned. Up until that point, you thought no one cared. You were always quiet and often felt left out of place. Unlike the others, you couldn't hurt a fly. At least not yet, even though you're Bruce's blood son, just like Damian. Although it didn't matter to you, all four boys were your brothers. You still looked after them, helped them when they were sick or injured, lent them an ear or your strength, whatever they needed. But all the brotherly love was never reciprocated. It was the very first time one of your brothers did something for you. And it was the baby brother of all people.

“Why?” You could only ask before a lump in your throat stopped you from making another sound.

Damian rolled his eyes again as if the whole thing was a nuisance to him, even though you knew better now. “I couldn’t hear you crying at night. You know our rooms are next to each other. I hear everything that happens,” he spoke the last part exasperatedly.

“But-„

Damian groaned in annoyance and rolled his eyes so hard he bobbed his head. "Can you just accept it and not make a big deal about it?" His voice was just as annoyed as the rest of his demeanor.

At this point, you could only nod, still in a strange trance. You were sure that this had to be a dream because it couldn't be real life. Damian had gotten up again and was about to leave. But after a few steps, he stopped.

Damian was always the easiest for you to read, so you knew he was reluctant to say something. But as you knew him, he would turn around once to make a decision. And just as you thought, he did just that. Meeting your eyes, you could see his body tensing and then hopelessly deflating.

“It’s not a pebble,” he admitted strangely. Your face contorted in confusion. “It’s a tooth.”

“What?” you asked, confused. Your eyes fell on your hand. “Whose tooth is that?”

“Shouldn’t you remember that?" He asked you dryly. "You tongued it several times in the lounge,” Damian told you, suddenly teasing with a sideways smirk. Only to have his face scrunch up in realization and disgust. You could only laugh.

“And why is there red...color? I believe?"

"Oh." Damian suddenly became more sheepish. “Well, I accidentally broke the idiot’s tooth on his car. Even though I had already destroyed it before when I found the tooth, I took it and scratched it further in front of the dickhead's face, but just to be safe, I followed with a knife."

Damian tried to remain casual, but you could see a spark of pride in his glimmering eyes. At that moment, all you could feel was the same thing: Pride. With a speed that not even your battle-hardened little brother could comprehend, you stood up, scooped him into your arms, and swept him off his feet. You spun in circles, laughing as you watched Damian try not to smile.

“What did I do to deserve a little brother like you?”

You slowly stopped spinning until you placed him back on the ground. Only then did you see the blush growing on his pale cheeks. You nudged him and asked what was wrong with him. He didn't want to talk, so you laid your hand on his little head and ruffled his hair. You told him everything was fine, not wanting to overwhelm him further. You turned to your car but stopped when you heard a whisper behind you.

"What?" you asked, chuckling in delight.

“Because I love you,” Damian whispered again, but this time you heard it. When you saw him look away, his ears glowing red and tears in his eyes, your heart melted. It made you wonder if your brother had always been this cute or if this was a recent development.

Once again, you were in front of your brother before he could react. You pulled him close, his head barely reaching your chest. Tears quickly wet your dirty shirt. It was the first time he had shown real feelings towards someone. You couldn't bear to say a word, so you petted his head instead.

For minutes, the two of you stood there silently, enveloped in each other's warmth. Only when a lightness befalls the atmosphere did you dare to speak.

“And I love you too, little bird,” you whispered in return with a big smile. “And from today, I break my neutrality! You’re my favorite now!”

“Really?” he asked quickly, looking up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his cheeks were even redder than before.

Instead of saying anything else, you kissed the top of his head, ruffled his hair again, and turned away, only to burst into silent tears. You just couldn't let him see you like this, you were still sore from the heartache you had just endured.

***

Damian took it as a sign to leave, but not before hugging you from behind, giving you a tissue, and running away. He went outside and walked back to the main house from the back. When he went back into the main living room, he found Jason and Dick there. He didn't care that they saw him in this mess. Instead, a devilish grin crossed his face.

Both older brothers looked questioningly at the boy, who they believed was the devil reincarnated.

“I’m his favorite!” he announced proudly. His two older brothers looked at him stunned. Then they looked at each other, wondering where Damian had come from. At the same time, something clicked within them. They both stood up simultaneously.

“You liar!” they shouted, not angry but more panicked.

"What did you threaten him with?" Jason asked further through gritted teeth, ready to pounce on the little boy.

Damian shrugged. "I just helped him get rid of a little sadness by beating up his ex," he told them, equally proud. He bathed in their stupid looks before he started whistling and walked away completely relaxed.

The information left the two older brothers speechless, thinking you didn't like brutality. But maybe they had the wrong idea.

Dick jabbed his elbow into Jason's side with a mischievous grin, and when their eyes met again, he couldn't hold it back any longer. “I told you we should have done it ourselves!”

Jason mumbled something incomprehensible before leaving. Dick never thought the other one would be the soft one since he prevented them both by going after your ex, but he had a feeling another chance would soon open up. After all, you're handsome, intelligent, and a Wayne. There are other fish in the sea for you. Maybe, if he finds your future husband, he may finally become your favorite, everything he ever wanted to be. And all your brothers fought about. Only now the war has really begun.

[Masterlist]

[waynewifey]

aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

[funfettifrills]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a platonic Husk fic where the reader hasn’t regressed in a while and when they do they’re just a big ball of feelings and tears

It’s been a rough week

🎲 Caregiver! Husk x Agere! Reader drabble [platonic] ; Simple Comfort

;; A/N: I'm sorry you've had a rough week!! Thingsll get better 🫂 sending you much much love!! 💖💖 I hope this fic is good enough to bring some comfort ! ( ´ ꒳ ` )

;; Word Count: 889

─────────────────

You found yourself sitting at the bar in silence, your head laid on your arms as you attempted to regulate the incoherent turmoil of emotions that prodded at your mind. Lost in thought, you could only stare down at the surface of the bar and peer into the grooves of the brown wood. Analyzing any imperfections with your eyes as you fell into a dissociative state.

"Somethin' up?" Husk had finally spoken up from the other side of the bar, flashing you a friendly yet concerned look. Even when you weren't in little space, Husk always let his grumpy walls down around you. He could read you like an open book and easily sense when you needed a shoulder to lean on.

"I dunno.." you replied softly, keeping your gaze downwards as you traced your fingers on the counter in a poor attempt to distract yourself. It was as if your stress and worries were all drastically piling up in your mind. The fact that you hadn't been able to regress in a while only worsened things.

A part of you was pushing away regressing, the mental block was disrupting any means of being able to properly release the tense emotions that took hold of your mental state.

"There anything I can do to help you out, kid?" Husk asked, resting his elbows on the counter as he leaned towards you.

He knew you well enough by now that an "I don't know" alluded to an upset mind. He didn't want to pry but he still couldn't help but worry over you.

Hearing the name "kid" was the wrecking ball against the mental block that you had been stuck with.

You finally looked up at Husk with wide eyes that were forming tears. Being able to regress after a long time of not doing so was an instant release for all of the emotions you had been burdened with.

You failed to form words, you could only sniffle as tears fell. Husk frowned in worry, making his way around the bar's surface.

"C'mere kiddo, I got you." He spoke softly in comparison to his usually tense tone, scooping you up in his arms and making his way to a couch for a more comfortable area to release your emotions.

As he carried you, you could only cling to him. Hiding your face in the crook of his neck while tears poured. He didn't care about the tears that were to wet his fur, he was used to this by now and only cared about whether or not you'd be okay.

Once sat on the couch, he kept you in his lap. With your chin resting on his shoulder, he lightly rubbed your back while bouncing his leg a bit.

"Shh, I got you, kiddo. You’re okay." He cooed and repeated in simple comfort.

You continued to cry and let out shallow breaths, you melted into his hold as you finally expressed your pent-up emotions.

After a few comforting moments of allowing you to sob, the cat spoke up,

"You wanna talk about it?" He spoke carefully, not wanting to overwhelm you if being verbal was too much for you at the moment. "You don't have to use your words if it's too much."

You moved your head from his shoulder to look at him, preparing yourself to speak up. Tear streaks lined your cheeks with a visible pout.

Husk gave you a comforting smile as he gently wiped the tears from your face, waiting for you to talk.

"Big feelings.." You spoke simply and childishly, being unable to grasp the weight of your pain verbally. "Overwhelming." Was all you could get out. Recalling what you were feeling only welcomed more cries. The sight would generated a pang of sadness in Husk, he was always quick to worry when you weren't doing well.

He brushed your hair away from your damp features, combing through it in a comforting motion.

With your simple words, he was able to grasp your worries. Husk was good at being terribly observant of you and others in general. His strong intuition was a strength when it came to being a caregiver.

"I know it's overwhelming, Sweetheart. Emotions are a lot, but you gotta feel them." He explained, "Keeping them in does you no good. You're allowed to feel sad, or grumpy, or anything at all, Kid. And I'll always be here when you need me."

You let out a small ‘'kay,’ his words were enough to soothe you. You took in deep breaths to finally regulate yourself as you cuddled more into Husks' embrace. His hold was warm and his fur was surprisingly soft, being in his arms was adjacent to being under a cozy blanket. You could hear (and feel) him lightly purring which was something familiar that helped to ease your moments of stress.

He smiled down at you and gave you a small squeeze,

“I'm proud of you for feeling such big emotions, being able to show ‘em just means that you're brave.” Husk praised, he was relieved that he was successful in attempting to help you out. His praise went straight to your heart, internalizing it greatly.

He ruffled your hair which caused you to giggle a bit.

“You're a lot braver than I am, Kid.”

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I really enjoy reading fics that include sexiness and vulnerability that requires trust. Can I suggest a scenario of reader wanting to give Aemond a blowjob for the first time in their relationship? Reader is a little shy with carrying on this new stepping stone yet she wants to make him feel good. Can you please make it slow and sensual? Like maybe she puts her head on his inner thigh and asks him if he trusts her before she takes the initiative or something like that 🫣

I'm so sorry it's taken me more than two months to fulfil this, nonnie. I hope you've stuck with me!

Warnings: Oral (m receiving), slight corruption kink. Word count: ~1500

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She was a shy, little thing, a pure picture of innocence. Aemond could never understand how the Gods had seen fit to pair someone as sweet as her with someone as broken as him, but he thanked them each night in his prayers for doing so. Having been told prior to her arrival in King's Landing that a match had been made for him, he'd been besotted with her from the moment he'd laid eyes upon her.

'Betrothed' seemed too ugly a word to describe her. Soft spoken, gentle, effortlessly graceful and good hearted, she was flawless in Aemond's eyes, and he couldn't wait to call her his wife.

As they'd stood in the Sept, she'd looked up at him with doe-eyed adoration and he felt as though his heart would burst. He'd undressed her that night with all the care of a Maester unwrapping a priceless treasure. She was radiantly beautiful laid bare before him and silently he cursed his hands, for it felt as though he dirtied her with their very touch.

She had trembled like a leaf as he'd laid her down upon their marital bed, and he had reassured her that they need not do anything if she did not wish to. She had reassured him that she wanted him, but she was inexperienced and he would have to teach her - she'd never even kissed a man before.

Aemond had felt pride swell within his chest at being the first to touch her in this way, but it had also ignited an internal conflict within him. Part of him longed to allow her to feel the full extent of his passion for her, to rut into her like an untamed beast and claim her as his own, while the other was panged with guilt for tainting this untouched beauty.

He settled somewhere in the middle ground, treating her with gentle reverence while trying to remember all the ways to pleasure a woman he'd researched in the lead up to their bedding. He watched her face closely, making a mental note of everything he did that elicited soft sighs and quiet moans from her, taking the utmost care to hold himself back so as not to hurt her.

This was how their marriage had been for the last six months. Aemond caring for his innocent little wife with a tenderness he had not known he was capable of, diligently bringing her to peak on his fingers and tongue each evening, before spilling himself inside of her with restrained carefulness.

It is an evening like any other; Aemond sits in his armchair by the hearth, reading aloud from a tome that details the beginnings of the Age of Heroes, while his wife sits at his feet listening intently.

He has offered her the armchair directly opposite his own many times, but she insists it is too far away, preferring to sit close to him as he reads to her. Her need to be near him is something that Aemond basks in, and he takes great pleasure in reaching out to stroke his fingers through the softness of her hair as he reads.

The only difference between tonight and the others they spend together is that her hands are restless against his thighs. He feels the way they creep tentatively upward, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the fabric of his trousers. He does his best to ignore it, to continue reading, but the warmth of her palms against him is driving him to distraction.

He sucks in a sharp breath as she brushes over his tightly fastened laces, stammering as he tries to read to her about the Pact made on the Isle of Faces. His face feels too hot, his heart races, so he closes the book, setting it down on a side table.

"Is there something the matter, rhūqītsos?" He asks, leaning forward to caress her cheek. Little dove.

She chews her lip nervously and Aemond can practically see her turning her thoughts over in her mind, as she chooses her words cautiously.

"E-everything you do," She begins quietly. "Is in service of my pleasure."

Aemond raises an eyebrow, this had not been what he'd expected to hear. He allows her to continue with a quiet hmm, sitting back and giving her the space she needs to speak freely.

"And I...I am so grateful." She presses on. "But now I want to make you feel good, I want to give you as much pleasure as you give to me."

Stirring in his breeches at this, he swallows thickly, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair tightly. "And how would you like to do that, dōnus riñus?" Sweet girl.

Her cheeks flush pink as her gaze drops to her lap. "I...have been reading...about how ladies can pleasure men...w-with their mouths..."

Aemond feels himself straining against the suddenly too tight confines of his trousers, yet how could he ever expect her to do that when she reacts with such shame to even the mere mention of it?

"I cannot ask that of you." He rasps. "It is something that common whores partake in, not highborn ladies."

"But I want to." She insists, looking up at him.

Despite the flushed expression of her embarrassment, Aemond sees determination shining brightly in her eyes and his resolve crumbles at this.

"You are sure?"

"Yes." She nods fervently. "But...I do not know what I am doing. Will you guide me?"

He leans forward again and presses a delicate kiss to her temple. "Of course, rhūqītsos. But first, you will get up off of your knees. You are my wife, you deserve the softness of a bed beneath you as you please your husband, not the hardness of the floor."

He stands, helping her to her feet and guides her to their bed, before laying down upon it and motioning for her to join him.

She lowers herself down the mattress, watching with keen interest as Aemond frees himself from his breeches.

Her eyes go wide at the sight of him, and it occurs to Aemond that she has never really looked upon his manhood before, at least not this closely. He usually buries himself inside of her after she has peaked, so she has never had the opportunity to properly study him.

He hisses as she wraps a soft palm around him, his stones tightening at the slight pressure being applied to his aching length.

She withdraws her hand quickly, her tone apologetic. "Am I hurting you?"

"No...no, quite the opposite, actually. Keep doing that, but stroke your hand up and down."

She smiles, resuming her grip on him and does as he's instructed.

Aemond groans, bucking slightly into her touch, enjoying the licks of warmth that tickle at his lower spine.

"The tip is where I feel most pleasure." He sighs softly. "If you wish to use your mouth then start there, with your lips and tongue."

Slowly, hesitantly, she opens her mouth, wrapping her lips around him and kitten licking at the head of him.

For a moment, Aemond's mind goes blank. It takes all of his resolve not to spend right there and then, his fingers dig so tightly into the bedsheets beside him he is certain he'll tear holes into them.

"Good. Very good." He whispers. "If you can, take more into your mouth and try to recreate the motion you used with your hand just now."

A sheen of perspiration prickles his skin as the hotness of her mouth envelopes him. He jerks back slightly when he feels her gag around him, her eyes watering.

"Not all of it." He says gently. "Use your hand for what won't fit."

She does as she's told, setting a steady rhythm that has Aemond's stomach muscles tensing as he fights to stay still. He wants nothing more than to grab her hair and buck up into the wetness of her mouth with reckless abandon, but he knows he has to allow her to take this at her own pace, and so he allows her to do as she pleases.

Aemond feels his climax approaching and knows he is done for when, without prompting, she reaches down to fondle his balls. The pressure that has been steadily building at the base of his spine is now at its pinnacle.

His breathing ragged, his brow furrowed in exertion, he pleads with her. "Dōnus riñus, you have to stop! Let me spend on the sheets, I cannot-"

If anything, this seems to spur on her movements and he lets out a strangled sounding moan as she spills himself into her mouth, his hips jerking uncontrollably.

When he feels himself pulsate for a final time, he sits up, prepared to shower her with apologies, however, they die on his tongue as he sees the bob of her throat. She'd swallowed.

She smiles as she looks up at his pleasure drunk state and he sees something irrevocably changed in her usual demure expression, her eyes are darkened by lust.

Long gone is his virtuous little bride, he has awoken something primal within her that he is eager to explore.

He tastes himself upon her lips as she kisses him, hungry and wanton.

"Rhūqītsos," He murmurs against her mouth. "Do allow me to repay your kindness."

Read on AO3

More Aemond fics

[short-yandere-stories]

okay so---i read the lil fic of reader friendzoning sebastian and i saw your requests were open so here I AM-

Could I get a fanfic of Sebastian with a reader who ✨does✨ have a crush on him but ignores his advances because she happens to have a rather low self-esteem and simply "doesn't want to get the wrong idea" —if possible? if you can't either way it's cool .u.

I am so glad you're here! :D And hoo boy I can recognize myself in that for sure and this would 100% be me hands down. Also sorry for the tiiiiime this has taken meeeeee ugh life is. Annoying. Something I do know for certain, however, is that a yandere Sebastian would not stand for any low self-esteem. Especially not from someone as wonderful and perfect as you.

This can be read as a standalone thing or sort of a continuation of the last one!

Yandere is mainly at the very end because it became just so nice and soft and aaaaahh

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

SFW, no major TW/CW, but mentions reader with low self-esteem feeling insecure and disliking themselves. :✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Not Good Enough for Me?"

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Milady, are you alright? You've been staring through that window for quite some time now." Jumping at the sudden voice, you turn around, gaze landing on the tall, elegant butler peeking in through your door. At your acknowledgment, he takes a step into your room, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.

"You have not moved from this spot since at least about half an hour ago. I saw you standing there while I assisted Finnian in the gardens." You look away, nervously picking at the skin around your nails. "I'm fine," you say with a forced laugh. "Just got lost in thought I guess." Slowly, Sebastian moves closer to you, making sure that you can clearly see him at any point. He closely monitors your body language, ready to stop the second he sees you flinching or turning away.

"Is it about my confession during the afternoon tea last afternoon?" He asks, hitting the nail on its head. He has to keep a chuckle in as you wince. "I meant no disrespect or harm, I can assure you," he continued. "And if I have made you uncomfortable with any of my advances, I-" "No!" You yelp, cutting him off. You snap around to finally look at him, eyes wide in a panic and hands thrown up in front of you, waving in dismissal. "I mean..." you continue in a timid tone, cheeks heating up at your outburst.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable at all, Sebastian," you say, eyes pleading with him to believe you. "It was actually really sweet and it made me extremely happy to hear. I just..." you trail off, looking down at the floor, unable to keep his gaze any longer.

"I just don't think you'd want to be with someone like me." Your voice grows increasingly quiet the longer the sentence goes on, and even Sebastian with his demonic powers and enhanced senses has to strain to catch your words.

"What?" he breathes, confusion and bewilderment etched on his face.

You turn back to face the window, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of comfort, trying your hardest to keep the tears threatening to form at bay.

"I just... I'm nothing special. I'm not really pretty or smart... I'm clumsy and mess up, and I can't ever do anything right." Tears blur your vision as you try to keep your voice from shaking. "I don't know why you'd want to be with me," you confess, finally, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"You deserve someone better than me."

If he had a heart in the same way that humans do, Sebastian was sure that it would have shattered upon hearing those words. How had he missed your feelings in regard to yourself like this? The anger he felt aimed towards himself for missing such a crucial thing had completely blocked out the meaning of your words for a moment until they finally registered. You loved him. More than that, you'd avoided his advances and tried to push him aside not because you didn't reciprocate, but because you didn't think you were good enough.

In a flash, he's by your side, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you into his chest. Your hands weakly cling to his waistcoat, tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. "Sweetheart," he whispers, raising one gloved hand to pet your hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not noticing how you felt about yourself and adding to that burden," he begins, holding your crying form close. "But you're wrong. About all of it." You cry harder and try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"You are special. So very special to me, darling, you don't even know half of it. You have the most beautiful soul of any person I have ever met. I love every single part of you. I love the color of your eyes, the way your entire face lights up when you smile. I love your mind and the way it works. Sure, you mess up sometimes, but every human does! It has never once made me think less of you. If anything, watching you trip over nothing only makes me see you as even more endearing than before." Relaxing his hold on you enough for him to bend down and look you in the eyes, he continues. "I love everything about you, flaws and all. I wouldn't change anything about you." One of his hands wipes away a few tears from your cheek before gently cradling it in his palm.

"There is no one that could be 'better for me' than you. You're perfect in my eyes. I hope that I can make you see that too, someday," he whispers.

More tears flow down your cheeks, and for a moment, Sebastian thinks that he has done something wrong, but then your face cracks into a smile. "Do you really mean that?" you ask meekly. "Or are you just saying it to make me feel better?" Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Sebastian leans in and presses his cold lips against yours. For a moment, you're unresponsive, frozen in shock. Then, your hands grab his shoulders, and you kiss back.

The feeling of your soft, warm lips against his is something Sebastian has dreamed of for so long. He can barely believe that it's happening. Your warmth, the softness of your body pressed against him is everything he ever wanted.

Possessive thoughts flash through his mind, solidifying what he already knew. This was where you belonged. By his side, in his arms. With him, forever. He would make sure that your thoughts never hurt you ever again. No matter how many times he had to reassure you, hold you, and help push those negative feelings aside, he would.

You were finally his. You finally reciprocated his feelings, and Sebastian would be damned if he let anything -- your own thoughts included -- hurt you.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

Part 14: The Drama You've Been Craving

summary: this chapter is sexy and intense! You and Eddie both have obsessive exes on your heels just as the entire Coffin Kings MC is given a reason to take down Craig. You and Eddie are glued at the hip until work and life split you apart and you realize you aren't as safe as you thought. Steve takes his new benefactress to a wedding, but you and Robin show up to warn him--even though it might be too late. wc: 10.3K

Series Masterlist

18+ONLY, mature themes, smut, angst, mention of a consensual bdsm relationship, typical series violence, a stalker, high speed chase, a death, mention of sex with someone other than reader, reader is threatened, everyone is a possible target.

authors note: I want some things to be a surprise, but if you've been following this story---you know the vibe to expect. That being said, this chapter and the next are VERY fast paced, full of angst, tension, and a sense of everyone on edge. If this is not your thing, I totally understand. This story started out as a tow truck driver who just happened to be in a Motorcycle Club, but it has morphed into a full-blown biker drama. A new character is introduced at The Velvet Hammer who will be Steve's love interest in a side fic I'm working on! I love you, enjoy the ride ❤️

"You feed it once, and now it stays

Now, it stays

You tear me open but beware

There's things inside without a care

And the dirt still stains me."

-- Until it Sleeps, Metallica

---------

Eddie stayed with you that night, knowing that Craig had broken into your place, and Katie went to be with Robin, so the two of you had the duplex to yourselves. Eddie put the deadbolt on both of the doors and blocked under the doorknob with kitchen chairs, and then the two of you took a shower together. He soaped your back with care, and it wasn’t long before you felt both of his hands at your hips as his hard length rocked back and forth along your slit from behind.

“Again?” You gave him a glance over your shoulder, a bit in disbelief. This would be the fourth time in less than two hours.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, continuing to saw his hips slowly while the water sprayed and the steam rose. “I should stop, huh?” He wrapped an arm around your throat and pulled you back to suck your earlobe into his mouth while his other hand found your clit.

“You’re a maniac,” the last word was a gasp as his tongue twirled in your ear and your hand skidded down the wet tile wall.

You were so stressed about Craig, and letting Eddie fuck you senseless was the only thing that gave you a bit of relief. The orgasms wiped your mind clean, if only for a few moments, and you wondered how many he could give you before the night was over and you could succumb to sleep. Craig was always there, in the back of your mind now, creeping around your place, stalking your house from across the street---god forbid he was stalking your friends.

Just as Eddie had you bent forward to slide his tip in, and you begged for him to go deeper, the phone rang.

“Shit,” Eddie hissed. The shower stream blasted against his neck, dripping down his nose and hair as he watched his cock stretch you out.

Your eyes shot open and you stiffened. “Wait, I need to get that,” you straightened, reluctantly forcing his cock to pop out.

On any other day, under any other circumstances, Eddie would have coaxed you to ignore it, but the current Craig situation had everyone on edge. His nerves were fried with how bad he wanted to hammer the nails into your stalker’s coffin, but he was doing all he could to remain calm for you. He didn’t want you to see him frazzled and amped up and storming through town kicking down doors like he wanted to.

Plus, he also didn’t want to let you out of his sight.

Eddie swatted your bare butt as you stepped out onto the mat and pulled a towel around you.

“Hey,” he yelled as he finished washing your conditioner out of his hair. “That ass is mine.”

“Sure, sure,” you mumbled, snorting at his constant eagerness. Your feet made wet imprints on the carpet as you crossed over to the phone on the nightstand by your bed.

Eddie was just about to ask if he should turn the water off or if you were getting back in when he heard your voice crack. “Baby? It’s for you.”

Eddie jerked the lavender curtain back and wiped his eyes. Your face was pinched with worry, your legs still dripping wet below the towel.

“Who is it? Steve?” But then his stomach dropped as he asked it, knowing it was something bad just by the look on your face.

You shook your head. “I didn’t catch her name, but she’s really upset,” you came in close to whisper to him as he turned the shower off, your eyes searching his.

“She said that someone named Jester was just murdered.”

------

Eddie sat down on the couch with a huff and bent over to tie his boots furiously, hair dripping wet, heart racing with adrenaline.

Goddamn it, Jester, Eddie murmured under his breath. He should’ve called Eddie, he should’ve waited, like Eddie fucking asked him to. Shari said the guy at her motel matched the description of Craig, and Jester went over there to check it out; two hours later, his Coffin King brother was found in the parking lot with a broken neck. Jester was just a kid, barely 23, and he’d just patched over from being a Prospect only a few months ago.

Fuck, Eddie was pissed. The anger pumped so hot in his veins that he had to shake his head a few times so that he could see straight.

You were dressed now, but haphazardly so; your tee shirt was on inside out and the first pair of sweats you pulled out of the drawer had a blue paint stain on the thigh. You were biting your pinky nail down to the quick as you stood back against the kitchen island watching Eddie. You knew Craig had something to do with this---you knew it in the depths of your soul---but Eddie wouldn’t tell you any of the details. He said he needed to go down and check it out for himself.

He said he’d be right back.

He told you to keep everything locked and lodge the chair under the door when he left.

But you didn’t want to let him out of your sight, not with your maniac ex on the loose. You weren’t even worried about yourself, you were more concerned with Eddie riding out there in the dark to the motel all alone. 

You’d met Jester once; his real name was Aaron, and he was young but he was big and strong, and one of the guys who ran the fights said he had the skill to be the next War Machine.

“Should you call Hopper?” You watched him lace his other boot while you gnawed another nail off.

Eddie frowned. “What the hell is he going to do about it?” He spat. “Besides, he’s probably already down there, making shit harder for me.”

“You think it was Craig, don’t you? The one who murdered Jester?”

Eddie took a long breath and sat there bent over for a second, eyes on the carpet. “I don’t know anything right now baby, that’s why I need to---”

You bent down to put your shoes on.

“Hey, I told you to wait here, please,” Eddie stood up, adjusted his belt and wallet chain, and came over to take you by the shoulders. You tried to shrug away, but he found your eyes, grabbing you by the chin so you would look at him. Piece of hair were sticking to his cheeks, still wet from the shower.“I don’t know what I’ll be rolling up on down there. I can’t risk it being a situation where you might get hurt.”

Your eyes were hot with defiant tears. “Well, what if this was just a ploy so you would leave me here alone, did you ever think of that? Hmm? These chairs blocking the doors are cute, but they won’t stop him, I think you know that.”

Fuck, he hadn’t thought of that. Eddie’s blood rage was making him sloppy; he had to get his head on straight.

You could tell that your words had nudged him and the gears in his head were clicking in your favor.

You continued to pull the bill up on your converse to slide your foot in. “Like you said, the cops will be there, and probably a bunch of other people rubbernecking, and he’s not going to do anything out in the open, even if he does see me.” You squatted down to tie them as quickly as you could.

You stood up, breathless, and swallowed hard. “I’m not staying here like live bait. If you leave without me, I’ll get in my car and follow.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared, assessing you from under hooded eyes, but in the end—-he knew you were right.  You snatched your helmet from the dresser in your bedroom and went out to straddle your man on the bike like a pro as it yielded to your weight.  Eddie smiled a little to himself as you adjusted  yourself behind him, remembering how shy you’d been about riding in the beginning.   With your arms secure around him and your chin pinned at his shoulder, the bike growled out onto the main road from the street.  You glanced around in the bushes on the sidewalk, expecting to see Craig’s face looming in the shadows.

—---------

The police had the area between the motel and the gas station taped off, protecting the crime scene, and Jester’s body was gone, but his bike was still there by the gas station, tipped over onto his side, his helmet was a few feet away.  There were 3 patrol cars, the Sheriff’s bronco, and an ambulance, plus a crowd of people from the motel, and one woman was crying while the other one held her.  A few of the Coffin Kings including the patch President Bones, and Thumper were already there, hanging back, arms crossed, wondering who would do this, and how they could find him before the police did. 

You checked around, squinting into the crowd as you dismounted the bike.  Eddie opened his hand for you to pass him your helmet once you took it off.  

Hopper waved off one of the other officers and approached Eddie right away, removing his hat to slick back his hair as he strolled over.  

“Eddie,” he nodded.

“Hop,” Eddie returned. He called you his “old lady” when he introduced you, which made your smile twitch up in a weird way, having never been referred to as that before.  It sounded like an insult, but apparently it meant that you were his pride and joy.

Hopper got Eddie up to speed on what they knew, which was almost nothing.  Jester was found face down on the pavement with a broken neck, legs trapped under his bike.   His girlfriend Shari who worked at the motel is the one who found him, and she didn’t see or hear anything unusual during the time when it happened.  Of course they’d questioned her as if she had something to do with it, which was ridiculous since Shari was maybe 90 pounds soaking wet.

You were doing a spin around in a circle to take everything in when your eyes landed with a screeching halt on the hunter green SUV parked in front of room 11 on the far side of the lot.  A squeak escaped your throat and you stumbled back against Eddie.  Was he inside the room watching you right now? 

Hopper raised his eyebrow at Eddie. “Any issues with retaliation that I should know about? Has Jester had beef with anyone lately?”

Eddie lifted his chin, bracing his hands at his hips.  Hopper knew damn well that, even if this had to do with a rival gang, Eddie sure as hell wouldn’t talk about it to the cops.  He’d take care of it in his own way, which was exactly what needed to happen in this case.

There was usually some polite banter between the two of them, but the mood that evening was much too somber.  

“What about people staying at the motel?” You blurted.  “Have they been questioned yet?”

Eddie curled his arm around you and pulled you closer, almost as if to shut you up, but Hopper paused to meet your gaze. The only people staying at the motel that night were a husband and wife with their newborn, an elderly couple on their way to visit grandkids, a business woman representing Mary Kay cosmetics, and a highly decorated war veteran who had been injured in the line of duty.  The vet was on his way home from a conference in Pennsylvania—Hopper had yet to confirm this, but nothing about the guy felt concerning.  

“You think someone staying at the motel wanted to kill Jester?” His tone had an edge of mocking, but he was also genuinely curious why you would ask that.

Eddie squeezed you tighter, silently reminding you not to share too much with the police.

“Well I—” you stammered, checking over your shoulder at the SUV, and then back up to Eddie. “I was wondering if there were any witnesses, that’s all.”

Hopper nodded.  “We’ll be checking with all of them early in the morning, but my guess is they were asleep.  Whoever did this was quick and sneaky.”

That description made a shiver run down your spine.  Even as you stood there in a crowd, you could feel an imaginary blade slice across  your throat.  

Hopper was good at his job, but he was letting himself be blinded by the people Jester chose to associate himself with.  You run with a ruthless MC, you get hurt, that’s a given.  

Hopper questioned Shari, but she also knew not to talk to the police, and kept quiet about the way Jester came there to keep an eye on the creepy guy in room 11.  She told Bones, though, and the second Hopper strolled off, you pulled Eddie aside.

“Look,” you motioned with your head to the SUV across the parking lot.

Eddie rolled his bottom lip through his teeth, checking to make sure Hopper was far enough away.  “I saw it, baby,” he grabbed the back of your neck and massaged it.  He worked his jaw as he stared at the motel room in question, hoping that fucker was peeking through the curtains and could see him holding onto you.  If the place wasn’t crawling with pigs, he’d kick the door down right then and there.  

Steve rolled into the lot on his chopper and gave a two-finger wave to Bones and the rest before making his way to a halt near you and Eddie.  He had clear, utility glasses on to keep the bugs out of his eyes when he rode at night, and he pushed them up into his messy hair as he dismounted.  He wasn’t wearing his helmet, which was an illegal and risky thing to do right in front of law enforcement—but Steve was notorious for making up his own rules.  

There were also two mean looking hickeys on his neck. Even mixed in with his tattoos, they were hard to miss.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Eddie raised an eyebrow at the aggressively bruised mouth bites. One was positioned dead-center on his adam’s apple.  Something about them felt familiar to Eddie, but he shrugged it off.  

Steve reached into the front pocket of his cut for his lighter and smokes, popping one in his mouth.  “What did I miss?”

Eddie filled him in on Jester getting whacked, and Steve blew smoke out of his nose, thoughtfully, his brows knitting together.  

“Bones wants to take it to the table,” Eddie told him, meaning their MC would get together at the clubhouse at Munson’s Garage and discuss what they wanted to do.  His eyes lingered on room 11 again. “But I want to take care of this guy myself.  It’s personal.”

“If it’s personal for you, it’s personal for me,” Steve told him, letting Eddie know he had his back, even though he had no idea about the gravity of the situation and who Craig actually was. 

You sniffed the air.  “Hold on,” you stepped closer to Steve, taking another long whiff.  He exchanged a curious look with Eddie over your shoulder.  “Is that Chanel number 5 I smell?”

Steve lifted the collar of his white tee to his nose.  “Um, I dunno. Maybe.  I guess?”

“Expensive taste,” Eddie mumbled, and another cog clicked in his brain, another piece falling into a puzzle that he didn’t know he needed to solve.  He was about to open his mouth, to ask Steve where he had been—but then he remembered that who his friend was fucking was none of his business.  There were plenty of wealthy, horny women in the area who wore Chanel number 5 and gave aggressive hickeys.  He was sure of it.

You stayed very close to Eddie and Steve as they walked over to get as close as they could to where the body had been, so much so that you tripped over the back of Steve’s heels twice, and he teasingly asked if you were drunk.  “No, but I wish,” you admitted, constantly looking over your shoulder at the motel.  You kept expecting Craig to appear, to step out of his room with his hands in his pockets and a smug look on his face, enjoying the chaos he caused.  

Eddie made a point to ask for Jester’s cut-off leather vest, with the Coffin Kings insignia on the back and his nickname patched on the front.  Eddie folded it with great reverence, knowing they would give it to his mother at the funeral.  Eddie also wanted to talk with Shari, but now was not the time to interrogate her.

Hopper told everyone to disperse, including the group of Coffin Kings that were lingering, but none of them were going far.  As much as they weren’t afraid of the law, they also had to pretend to abide by it from time to time so that they weren’t getting their feathers ruffled constantly and thrown in jail over stupid shit.  

They positioned two of the Prospects across the street in the park with a clear view of the motel. After what happened to Jester, they weren’t taking any chances with snoozing on the job, and both were packing serious, illegal heat.  

You asked Steve how Oliver was while Bones clapped a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.  The man was average height, but all gray, with a bandana on his head, and a thick mustache; he reminded you of Sam Elliott.

“You think this is the guy? The one stalking your old lady?”  Bones’ already gruff voice was accentuated by years of smoking. 

Eddie’s gaze flicked to one of the patrol cruisers that was leaving the scene, and he nodded. “This one is mine, brother. I need this.”

“We all need it,” Bones agreed, gripping Eddie’s shoulder.  He leaned in, “If you want to drag that guy out of there right now, we’re with you.”

“No,” Eddie appreciated the offer but, “I want to catch him on the move, away from all of this protection,” he added, hitching his chin in the direction of the police.  “I can’t risk us getting locked up while he roams free.”

Eddie also didn’t trust the Prospects to keep a close enough eye on him, so he planned to take you to Steve’s and come back; there was no way he’d be able to sleep knowing Craig would be up and about in a few hours.  

But you weren’t so crazy about that idea.  Sure, you’d stay the night at Steve and Robin’s if that made him feel better to know you were all in one place, but Eddie needed to stay with you.

Robin and Oliver were asleep, and Steve was in the shower washing off his Chanel number 5 when Eddie shut the door to Steve’s bedroom so you could talk.  Steve’s room was little else than a tv, a dresser, and a futon sofa that folded out into a bed.  There was a chair next to the window and an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the sill.  He usually slept in the extra twin bed in Oliver’s room down the hall, though, and that is where he would be that night so that you and Eddie could have the futon.  You knew that not much talking needed to be involved to get him to stay and you quickly dropped to your knees, working his belt off and unzipping his jeans.

“Wait, baby, I—” Eddie began to protest but by then you’d already pulled the top of his boxers down and were wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock.  “---oh fuck that feels good,” he whispered, dropping the back of his head to the wall.

You kissed down the smooth shaft and felt it grow against your lips, and then swirled your tongue around the head again, knowing by the sounds he was making that you had him right where you wanted him.

“Stay here with me baby,” you coaxed, gripping his cock in your fist, lapping at it with your tongue a few times like it was an ice cream cone, looking up at him.  “I need you.”

He put a hand on the back of your head and pushed his hips forward ever so slightly, so the tip made its way to the back of your throat.  It was growing to full-size fast, and you made a humming noise, vibrating on it while you caressed his balls through his boxers.

“Shit, oh fuck, I love it when you do that,” he breathed.  God, he loved watching how well you took care of him, especially the way a string of saliva would stretch out between your mouth and his tip when you pulled back; your mouth was so wet for him.

“Mhmmm,” you nodded.  His tip was already leaking, and you pulled his boxers down further to take one of his balls into your mouth before coming back up to lick the drops clean.

There were a handful of times when Eddie let you give him head from start to finish, but more often than not—he always wanted to finish inside of you.  It wasn’t a breeding thing, it was more of a “I need to be as close to you as I possibly can” kind of thing, and his balls ached for it.

After making sure the door was locked, speaking exclusively in hushed whispers, it wasn’t long before you were both naked and Eddie had you on the bed with your legs straight up over his shoulders.  He ran his cock along your slippery slit, and then he tapped your hole with the head a few times, like a vow.  He braced his hands at your hips and sank in, making you both bite back a cry of pleasure.  He pounded you with fierce urgency before slowing it down to long strokes, turning his face to kiss your leg.  The open futon had the cushion of a cement block, and so there were no pesky springs or hinges to make curious noises.

“I’m so full baby,” you whined. “You’re so deep.”

“Fuck,” he bottomed out a few more times, clapping his hips against you.  You heard the shower across the hall turn off and worried that Steve might catch the wet smacking noises.

There were no lights on in the room, but enough illumination from outside for Eddie to be able to watch himself slide in and out of you, growling low as he did so, loving how the skin of his cock glistened with your arousal.  

You were swiping at your clit with the pads of your fingers, and your hand sped up when he started fucking you hard again. You met his eyes, your brows knitting together.  “Oh fuck Eddie…just like that.” 

Eddie knew that, if you said you liked something, that was not time to switch things up, and he ached to hear you get loud.

“That’s my girl,” he hissed.  “Cum on my cock baby, I want you to cum so fucking hard, oh shit—” he could feel his own release mounting as your walls rippled around him.  His strong fingers dug into your thigh as his thrusts became erratic, long hair hanging down his strong, tattooed shoulders and chest. 

You arched up, mouth opening only to mouth a curse word as you felt Eddie buck and release inside of you, biting his lip so hard it almost bled as he moaned deep in his throat. Your cunt milked his dick as you came, twitching, breathing hard from the adrenaline rush of trying to keep quiet.

The bathroom door opened, there was the sound of footsteps in the hall, and then a knock at your door.  You mirrored Eddie’s wide eyes, and then he pulled out of you, reluctantly, semi-hard cock bobbing in the air, and stepped into his jeans while you covered yourself with the Harley Davidson blanket.

Before Eddie could get his jeans zipped, Steve tried the doorknob. “Yo, the bathroom is free,” he let you both know, as any roommate would if there were only one shower and toilet in the house.  

“Thanks man,” Eddie paused, waiting, wondering if that was it.

But Steve rapped his knuckles softly on the wood again.  “Let me in for a second, dude, I gotta get something out of my closet.”

Eddie shot a look back at you, as if to make sure you were covered up, while simultaneously wondering if he wanted Steve to see that you were obviously naked under his blanket.  He adjusted his cock in his denim and reached out to pluck the lock open on the knob.

“Took you long enough,” Steve blew in with a Snoopy towel around his waist, exposing the wash of colorful tattoos covering his torso that you’d never seen before.  He had “FTW” inked in big letters in an arc over his stomach, and after consulting with Eddie later, you learned it stood for “fuck the world”.  Your eyes also landed on Oliver’s name tattooed over his heart.  He usually slicked his hair back, so this was the first time you ever saw it so messy and wild.

Steve slid the closet door open, yanked something off a wire hanger, and was about to walk back out the door when he stopped and turned on his heel to give you both a wiggle of his eyebrows.  “Hold up—did I interrupt something?”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just blinked a few times, and you plastered a tight smile across your face that made your cheeks squeak.  

“If you need me to stay, I could—” Steve teased, offering a few exaggerated winks.

“Get the fuck out,” Eddie pushed his shoulder, snorting a muffled laugh as he did so.

—-----------

Earlier that evening, when you and Eddie showed up at the crime scene near the motel—-Craig was not in his room.  He hadn’t been there for almost two hours, since he killed Jester.  He got out through the window in the bathroom, and that poor kid never saw it coming.  After that, he hotwired a car from the grocery store parking lot a few blocks away and waited across the street, in plain sight, watching the whole thing. He gritted his teeth and mumbled under his breath when Eddie put his arm around you, and when you left together—he followed.  

He already knew where your friends Steve and Robin lived, and it was not a shocker that your biker boyfriend took you there. You didn’t need protection from Craig, though, you needed protection from the world, and metalhead scum like Eddie Musnon.  He knew you would thank him one day, for finding you and bringing you back to your senses.

It took him a while to figure out the exact spot where you would be in the house, but once he did, he found that the window was cracked open, like a gift.  He hadn’t expected the sounds of you getting fucked to turn him on, but the way you whimpered…oh god…those noises you made.  He put his head against the side of the house, closed his eyes, and pretended it was his cock inside of you.  He came into the bushes, mumbling your name with the additional, “you fucking bitch, you fucking whore” before adjusting himself and making his way back to the motel.

—-------

The next morning, Craig’s vehicle was still there, and it didn’t appear like the guy had even moved a muscle or pulled back a curtain.  

At around 8:00, the two Prospects stationed on watch across the street got a phone call from the payphone on the corner.  It was Bones, letting them know they were both needed down at the abandoned steel mill.

Both were tired of waiting, but Van, the one who’d answered the phone, couldn’t mount his bike fast enough, while Devlin worked through some internal struggle.

“Hold on,” Devlin said, taking a second to absorb what Van just told him.  Both had long hair tied back in ponytails, each similarly tall with lanky muscles.  Van was sleeved with tattoos, though, while Devlin only had a Celtic design on his bicep.  “He needs both of us? What about this guy?” He tossed his chin in the direction of the motel.   “Eddie said not to let him out of our sight.”

“Do you want me to call Bones back so you can give him all these questions?” Van offered snidely, knowing that the last thing a Prospect would ever do is question the President of the MC. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, I gotta piss.  If Eddie wants this guy so bad, he can come babysit him.”

Devlin pulled his leather gloves on, flexing his fingers as he stared across at Van.  There’s no way in hell he’d talk that way to Eddie’s face—he’d get rocked into next week.  Devlin noticed that Van was jittery, like an addict jonesing for a hit of something.  “It’s your ass,” Devlin assured him as he strapped his helmet on under his chin.  

—------

When the boys swung by to talk to the Prospects a bit later, the two were nowhere to be found, and Craig’s SUV was gone.   

“Son of a bitch,” Eddie spat, motioning for Steve to follow him to circle around to the motel. 

“What the fuck?” Steve barked, looking around as they each dismounted their bikes. He had on a red tee with the armholes cut open wide to expose his tan ribcage and scattered tattoos.“Where the hell are Van and Devlin?”

Eddie didn’t have time to solve that mystery, he was too focused on the way the door to room 11 was cracked ajar, suggesting that the occupant had left in a hurry.

Both boys stood back on either side of the door, each with one hand on the hilt of their holstered knives.  Not only was Craig dangerous, but he was a sneaky coward who didn’t have the guts to face Eddie like a man.  

Eddie pounded the door the rest of the way open with his boot.

The room appeared to have been vacated—the guy even took out his own trash, as if someone would want to sift through it.  The bed had been made, with the sheets tucked so tight, you could bounce a dime on it, and on his way back from checking the bathroom, Eddie saw a matchbook from The Golden Lion Hotel and Resort sitting on the desk.

“Maybe the guy gave up,” Steve looked around the dresser under the tv, pulling the empty drawers open.  “Tucked his tail and ran like the scared puppy he is.”

Eddie shook his head a few times before he said anything, turning the matchbook over in his fingers. “Oh,he’s still around,” Eddie concluded.  “And I think he left us a breadcrumb.”

Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew the guy hadn’t left it there by accident.  Craig seemed to get off on slipping through their fingers and mocking them around every turn, but he underestimated what Eddie would do when he actually got a hold of him.

—-----------

When Eddie called to tell you what had happened, a cold chill ran down your spine.  It was late morning, and you were at your Saturday “bloody mary brunch” shift at the Velvet Hammer while The Drama You’ve Been Craving by Sleater-Kinney played from the jukebox.  The b-movie on the tv mounted above the bar was The Killer Shrews. Your shift was 9 to 4, but you planned on asking if you could work a double and stay as late as possible, because it felt safe to be in a crowd; staying busy also kept your anxiety at bay.  The only downside would be that Eddie was out of your sight, and you had a feeling that both the boys would be trying to track down Craig for most of the day.  You weren’t doubting that Eddie could handle himself against Craig in a fist fight—but that wasn’t the type of combat Craig excelled at.  There was always some element of manipulation and psychological fuckery.

And then Steve was off to be a bodyguard for some wealthy, country club wife later that night, leaving Eddie completely alone.  You weren’t sure of the details, but you knew he was being forced to go to take whoever it was to some wedding.  All you could do was serve alcoholic beverages and hope the world outside figured itself out without anyone you loved getting hurt.

You overheard the new server ask Shana if Steve was working the door that day.

“He’s only here after 6,” Shana replied, digging a metal scoop into the ice to make a mint mojito.  There was about an inch of platinum stubble growing in on her shaved head.  She wore a dark red choker with a cross dangling from it, and a low cut, velvet shirt to expose the roses and thorns tattoo that covered her chest.  “But, he asked for the night off,” Shana wiggled her eyebrows at the girl.  “I think he has a hot date.”

To your surprise, you watched the new girl’s face drop.  She’d only been there for a week, and it seemed like she and Steve were always in the middle of a lover’s spat.  Some of it was playful banter, but also, the more she pushed him away and teased him,  the more he sought her out to tease her more, and she wasn’t afraid to give her rejection harsh and swift.  

“It’s not a date,” you corrected, walking side by side, carrying drinks to your table.  “Some lady is paying him to be her escort slash bodyguard for a wedding tonight.”

A smile twitched on her lips; she looked relieved as the two of  you set the drinks down black cocktail napkins coasters.  After you finished at that table, Lily tapped your elbow.

“Who would need a bodyguard at a wedding in this town?” She asked, frowning quizzically. “Is she famous or something?”

Her question brought a sudden avalanche of memories down on you.  You remembered that day at the gallery when you first caught sight of Charlene, and the second time you ever met Eddie.  He was there as her “bodyguard” that night, according to Jeff, and you recalled how ridiculous it sounded.

That night several months ago, you teased Eddie for being on your “turf” on the sidewalk outside of Moon River Gallery, and just the thought of those early days made your heart flutter.  

It dawned on you then, like a smack to the forehead, who Steve was escorting to the wedding that night, and you leaned across the bar to ask Shanna to pass you the phone.  

—--------

Robin answered as she spun cookie dough in a mixing bowl with a wooden spoon, her hair in a scrunchy on the top of her head.  She’d offered to watch one of her friend's kids for a bit, and both the boys were giggling at cartoons in the living room.  The smoke alarm just went off because she burned the first batch and was determined to try again.

You asked if Steve had checked in recently, or if she expected him home any time soon.

Pinning the phone between her shoulder and her ear, Robin opened the window above the sink to try and wave some of the burnt cookie smoke out with her hand.  “He was just here to grab something, but then he took off again,” she kicked the oven closed with her foot.  “Why, what’s up?”

You figured there was always a chance he’d stop by The Hammer even though he wasn’t working—you hoped so anyway.  “You know if he’s still doing that escort thing tonight?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty excited about it,” there was a tiny voice in the background and Robin held her hand over the receiver to tell Ollie she’d be there in a second.  “Well, he’s excited about the money.  I got invited to the same wedding, but Katie’s visiting her mom and I don’t want to be lame and go by myself, even though Paul’s mom did offer to babysit.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you considered the implication of what she was saying.  If you could duck into the wedding long enough to warn Steve and let him know his “date” is the reason Eddie got stabbed, then at least Steve would have fair warning for what he was getting himself into. 

Robin stopped stirring and held the phone with her flour covered hand.  “Hey, do you want to be my date? I know you’ve got this creepy ex breathing down your throat, but until the Kings grab him, I think it would be fun to take your mind off of it. There’s an open bar at the reception and I’m always a fan of free food.”

You were nodding, but realized there were no words coming out. “I think that might be a really good idea,” you sucked in your top lip, almost wishing Eddie hadn’t ripped the dress John bought you.  “I was going to try and pick up another shift, but yeah, I could be your date.”

You already told Eddie you’d be working, so you’d let the new bouncer at the Hammer know where you were in case he came by.  Since Eddie was usually impossible to get a hold of during the day, you’d leave a message on his machine, too, just in case.  

Meanwhile, as Robin spooned dough onto an aluminum sheet, she remembered the gun that was locked back in the safe.  For some strange reason, the hair stood up on the back of her neck and she wondered if she would need it.  

—-------

Right before you left your message on Eddie’s machine letting him know where you would be, there was another message that came through:

(machine clicks) “It’s me, Melanie.  Wow, I guess you really don’t want to talk to me. (long pause) It’s been five years, I figured we could at least try to be friends or something, but I am reading your silence loud and clear. (heavy sigh) I went over to visit Wayne and he said you have a new girlfriend now, and that you’re happy, so, congratulations, I guess.  You deserve all the good things.  This is the last time I will try to contact you. Have a nice life, Eddie.”

Later that day, just as the sun was setting, the phone rang again.

(machine clicks) (shuffling, muffled cursing) “You know what? Fuck you, Eddie Mussin.” Melanie slurs. “Fuck you for making me fill like a peas of schit for even trying to be a part of your life. (hiccup) Your new whore is here at this wedding, where are you?  I don’t fuckin deserve this.  I need you to come down here right now and tell me to my face that you don’t love me anymore before I come to you–” (loud click)

—------

Back at the Munson’s Garage, Eddie did not go up to his apartment, but he did meet with Bones and a few of the other members inside the clubhouse.  Eddie told Bones about how Van and Devlin had disappeared, and he was just as confused as anyone.

“I don’t know shit about them leaving,” Bones assured from one of the bar stools, silver hair brushed back off his face, wearing an old school denim cut-off with the club insignia on it, and a thick wallet chain hanging down the thigh of his dark denim. “I told those fuckers to stay put until you got there.”

Eddie put his hands on his hips and worked his jaw. The door that led in from the garage opened then, and the two idiots in question appeared.  Eddie didn’t wait to ask questions, he just walked over, took the first one he could catch by the throat, and pinned him up against the wall with a hard thwack that sounded like he almost broke the wood paneling.  

Van choked and wheezed against Eddie’s hold. “Where the fuck have you two been?” Eddie spat through gritted teeth.  

Devlin started talking fast, waving his hands.  “We’ve been over at the abandoned steel mill, waiting where you told us to for the past couple hours,” he said to Bones in a rush.

Bones and Eddie exchanged a frown.  Bones shook his head, scowling at Devlin.  “What the hell are you talking about? Nothing’s going down at the steel mill today.” There were several abandoned buildings on the outskirts of town where the Kings conducted the shady side of their dealings, but so far, the weekend plans were tame.

Devlin shot a look at Van, whose face was beet red above Eddie’s grip, and then turned back to Bones.  “So, if you didn’t call us on the payphone this morning to tell us to go to the steel mill, who did?”

Eddie released Van so that he could talk, waiting for him to catch his breath and cough a few times.  “It sounded like you,” Van sputtered so hard that saliva dripped from his lip.

Bones sat back in his seat, smoothing out his mustache, while the other members around him mumbled to themselves.  “You really are just as stupid as you look.”

And then Eddie’s fist came in tight, landing flush with his Van’s jaw, and he stumbled back against the wall and slid to the floor, accepting his punishment with a curse.  

The door from the garage pushed open abruptly, and there stood Josh, one of Eddie’s mechanics wearing smudged overalls.  He threw a thumb over his shoulder.  “Yo, Thumper has eyes on that hunter green SUV you’ve been looking for.  It’s headed for Highway 22 off of Deer Park.”

Eddie pushed himself off the wall with the side of his fist, pounding it there, on his way outside to jump on his chopper.  The rest of the guys followed, including a woozy Van, stumbling as he got to his feet..  

Chrome pipes roared to life one right after the other as the eight of them rumbled out of the parking lot.

—------

While Eddie and a handful of the Coffin Kings were blowing down the highway in the hot summer sun in pursuit of Craig, Steve was sipping champagne, getting his sleeves marked to be adjusted last minute by Charlene’s personal tailor. They were in her master bedroom overlooking the pool as beige curtains billowed in along with the soft echo of Joey by Concrete Blonde from the radio down near the jacuzzi.  Charlene had a see-through coverup over her zebra print bikini as she watched from her chair.  She liked to touch herself whenever the tailor wasn’t looking, and to be fair—Steve liked it too.  She plucked at her nipple and ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth, making his cock twitch in his pants as he gnawed vigorously on his Wrigley’s Spearmint gum.  

He’d been with a few batshit crazy chicks in his day, but this one was up there with the battiest.  Honestly—he didn’t hate it.  The problem was, he’d started to have this crush on one of the new servers at The Velvet Hammer, and two things were wrong with it: one, he didn’t have time or room in his life for romance, and two, she kind of hated his guts.

She acted like she did, anyway.  She told him that his reputation preceded him, and that he’d never get in her pants, no matter how hard he tried.  

Bet.

Charlene helped him to take his mind off of that, even though she did treat him like some sort of life-sized Ken doll.  Her sexual appetite was insatiable, and that afternoon, before the tailor got there, was the second time she’d asked him to choke her while she came until she almost passed out.

Steve was afraid of those torture kinks though; afraid he might not know his own strength one time and take his anger out on his partner.  He had a switch inside of him that was either on or off, and he didn’t know how to idle in between.  

The tailor walked away to the vanity to grab something, and Charlene sauntered over to pretend she was fixing Steve’s collar.  She leaned forward to whisper in his ear: “I want to feel your cum drip out of me all night,” and it gave him a shiver.  He would definitely have to fuck her again before they left, and maybe again in the towncar on the way there.

—------

The thing that surprised Charlene the most was not how attracted she was to Steve, but how she was starting to not miss Eddie anymore.  This all started as a way to get closer to Eddie, and to get back at him at the same time, but now all she could think about was being naked with Steve—to have him rip her suit off with his teeth.  

He’d left marks on her, because she asked him too, and there was some slight bruising around her throat that she loved to admire.  John wouldn’t ask about it, he didn’t care what she did. Eddie always refused to indulge her in that way—he would fuck her rough, sure, but he didn’t like the idea of introducing pain, and none of her other lovers had the right touch until now.

She watched Steve’s jaw muscles work as he chewed his gum, and then he winked at her after the tailor asked him a question.  She was down bad in a way that made her want to be 15 years younger, to start completely over with someone like Steve. Maybe it would’ve made her a different, softer person, maybe they would’ve had a son together.  But then she remembered her situation and how that wasn’t an option, and then the bitterness flooded back in, rising like bile at the back of her throat.  

While Steve was just trying to make it through the evening, Charlene was trying to think of ways to keep him with her forever.

—-------

You showed up at Robin’s with the only dress you had that qualified as formal wear—the style was possibly outdated by ten years.  You brought your Caboodles makeup case too, because you knew how much Oliver loved to watch you put makeup on.  Robin never wore makeup, aside from some lipstick now and then, so she always appreciated it when you or Katie indulged him.  You had a polaroid back at the duplex of the makeup Oliver put on Steve once; wide, outlined red lips, bright green lids from lashline to eyebrow, and a dusting of glitter.  

“Which color do you think?” You asked, gesturing to your eyelids, in front of the bathroom mirror while Ollie stood on a step stool next to you.  He had on a pair of bright yellow swim trunks and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tank top.  

“I think this blue for one eye,” he scratched his head, tapping the hard plastic shell over a sparkly turquoise with a tiny finger.  He paused his hand as his eyes moved around, and made a serious face, concentrating.  “And this color for the other eye,” the other color was a dark red.

He looked up at you with those big, honey brown Steve eyes, waiting for you to start applying them, rubbing his lips together.  “Ollie, my love,” you chuckled.  “One day, your artistic genius will be appreciated, but I don’t think Hawkins is ready for it quite yet.”

“What if we do these,” you showed him a few things including eyeliner and blush. “And I’ll let you put some of the mascara on me.”

He nodded, eyes widening at all of the options scattered around the sink, wanting to put it all on your face at once. 

Suddenly, there was a pounding at the front door that made your heart stop.  

You told Oliver to wait in the bathroom and shut the door while you went to check it out.

Relief flooded in when you realized it was only Robin. She’d gone out to close the garage and accidentally locked herself out of the house.  Who else had you expected? Craig? Surely, he had no idea where Steve and Robin lived.  

Paul’s mom Raina was running an hour late to pick Oliver up with promises of ice cream and Scooby Doo, so you missed the wedding itself, but the two of you decided you’d still make it to the reception; shame to waste all the time you took getting ready. While you had a glass of wine in the kitchen and helped Robin zip up the back of her navy blue, strapless dress, you kept looking at the phone, and glancing out the living room window to the street, waiting to see Eddie, or at least hear from him.  On your way out the door, you tried his apartment one more time, but hung up before you could leave another message.  

—------

The Coffin Kings zoomed along the highway, weaving in and out of cars, keeping to a tight, intimidating pack as much as possible with Bones out in front and Eddie right behind him, hair flying in the wind. Thumper caught sight of them from a road crossing and joined, spitting up a cloud of dust as he went.  

Up ahead, there was a bottleneck in traffic as two lanes converged, and the line of cars were beginning to slow down.  Eddie spotted the SUV in the distance and waved the group to the side of the highway to bypass all of the vehicles at a standstill.  

Eddie’s arm muscles were tight and flexed, the sleeves of his Pantera tee exposing his tan, inked arms.  His face was locked in a permanent frown as he braced against the wind.  Four of the other guys went around the opposite side of the highway, ready to box in the target.  

The windows of the SUV were tinted, but Eddie could tell that the guy must’ve seen them coming in his rearview mirror because the vehicle lurched, wheels cranking, trying to get out on the lip of the road to escape.  

Eddie sped up, twisting the throttle on the right handlebar, weaving in through the cars again to rage down the dotted yellow line.  

The SUV bolted out from the line of cars, dove into the ditch, and then corrected itself before swerving onto an unpaved road that led out through the trees.

The gang followed; Eddie and Thumper got up behind it, eating dust from the tires, and once they were away from the traffic cluster, Thumper reached down for his handgun, aimed it at the back tire and shot twice.  

The vehicle swerved and kept going but slowed down enough for them to get along each side, and then Bones raised his gun and blew out the back window.

The SUV turned so fast that Thumper lost control and flipped his bike into the dirt, but motioned for the others to keep going.  

There was a dead-end curve with metal railing, and that is where the vehicle finally screeched to a halt sideways.  A few of the guys stayed on their bikes and aimed their guns at the driver’s side door, while Eddie dismounted and waited to see if Craig would step out, but he didn’t, so Eddie went over and yanked it open for him.  

“Please please please don’t kill me!” The woman behind the steering wheel screamed, holding her hands up. She was in her early fifties, highlights of gray hair in her brunette bob, wearing an orange corduroy jumper over a floral shirt.  

The woman was in tears, and Eddie stepped back in disbelief.  He jerked open the side door only to realize it was the same make of SUV, but it did not belong to Craig.

“You can take my wallet,” the woman stammered.  “It’s in my—”

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” Bones told her, motioning for everyone to lower their weapons as a dust cloud settled around them.  “There’s been a terrible mistake.”

Eddie started to walk away but then let out a violent curse at the last minute and punched the side of the SUV causing it to dent.  

—------

Steve ran the tip of his tongue over his gold incisor and buttoned his jacket as he came around the passenger side of the Jaguar to take Charlene’s hand at the entrance to the Golden Lion Hotel & Resort before he tossed the keys to the valet.  The tats on his hands and throat were an interesting pairing with the fancy suit he had on, and it took all of Charlene’s willpower not to kiss him right there.  She knew what everyone whispered about—she knew that the infidelities both her and John exercised were well known in town—but it was important to continue the facade.

It was a strange arrangement in more ways than one: Steve escorted her inside to where a group of her friends were, but then was told to wait out front like a guard until the ceremony and dinner were over.  Steve took a walk, smoked half a pack of cigarettes, talked to some of the other drivers, and sat in the lobby, bobbing his knee restlessly. Charlene came out to check on him a few times, like someone would a dog, even brought him a plate of food.  He planned to wait until the music for the dancing started, and then he’d go and find his benefactress to ask how much longer they needed to stay.  He didn’t mind Charlene—he thought she was hot as hell—but the only thing motivating him to stick around was feeling that wad of cash in his pocket once the evening was over.  

He saw Eddie’s ex Melanie at the bar taking shots with her friend, and he ducked behind a collection of imported palm trees so that they wouldn’t see him. 

______

“Steve!” You called across the parking lot as your heels clapped up the pavement with Robin close behind you.  You were relieved to see that he was alone, if only for a moment.  

He was afraid to look up at first, his head bent down as he finished the last of his smoke, not sure if it was someone he wanted to ignore.  But, when his eyebrows finally lifted the rest of his head up, his face beamed with a mix of relief and confusion.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” His surprised expression landed on Robin; it was only the third time in his life he’d seen her in a dress.  He almost didn’t recognize her.  

Robin scoffed.  “I wanted to go to this wedding in the first place, remember?”

“Oh shit,” Steve balked. “Is this Scott’s wedding you were telling me about?”

Robin shook her head and snorted a laugh out her nose.  “You are unreal.”

“Damn, I wasn’t paying any attention,” he jerked the corners of his mouth down in an oblivious frown. 

“Hey,” you took Steve by the elbow, leaning in.  “The woman you’re here with, is her name Charlene?”

Steve’s ADHD was getting the better of him.  “Yes, why? Where’s Eddie? Is he coming? Did they catch that freak who broke into your place?”

You stammered, trying to choose which one to answer.  “I’m not sure, but I—”

And that was when Charlene showed up in the entranceway behind you—in the flesh—and beckoned for Steve to come inside.  You could almost feel her there, even without looking, and it made all of the hair on your body stand on end. 

You turned to face her in all of her Sharon Stone glory, and in that moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a flicker of fear flash over her face as she recognized you.  

“Stevie,” she said it louder, clearing her throat.  “Come have a drink with me?”

“Be right there,” Steve threw her a lift of his chin and grin, and then he turned back to you, running a hand through his hair.  “I have to go do this for a bit longer.  See you in there, though, yeah?”

But before you could say anything else, he patted your arm and strode over to greet Charlene, offering his elbow for her to take.  You could hear the music start up from the dancefloor: Good Vibrations by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch.

Robin pushed tight to your side. “Is that her?” She asked. “The one who got Eddie stabbed?”

“That’s her,” you said, watching them through the glass as they disappeared around a corner. 

“Hell no,” Robin pushed off with a huff. “I don’t care how much money she’s giving him, he needs to know,” and then she charged fullbore into the building, getting stuck in a crowd of people exiting, pushing her way through while trying to be polite.

“Robin, wait!” You blurted, still weary of Charlene’s reach and power.  You hustled after her, stopping to hold the door open for an elderly couple as people poured in and out to get some air, music vibrating in your chest.  

You broke free into the lobby, scissored your way through the line for the bar, keeping your eye on the back of Robin up ahead.

That was when a strong arm snaked around your waist from behind and a mouth pressed against your ear, hissing at a whisper: “Try to fight me or make a sound and I’ll hurt your friends,” the voice promised.  

It was Craig.

You could feel the stubble on his chin and smell the familiar Altoids and whiskey tang of his breath.  

“Come with me?” He asked it as a question, but he knew you would nod, swallowing hard and then he grabbed your arm with one hand and rested the other on the small of your back, guiding you back and to the side, into the shadows.  

You didn’t say a word, you just kept pace with him, knowing that his threats were never idle.

—-----

Eddie sent two of the guys ahead to bring a tow truck to take the woman’s SUV back to the shop, and he let her know that all of the repairs were on him, apologizing for the “mixup”.  But then Bones had to step in and have a serious conversation with her about how she shouldn’t tell anyone about what happened, especially the police—that it would be bad for her “health”.

It was dark by the time Eddie got back to his place.  He was angry and frustrated and fucking exhausted, but finding you was now his priority.  You told him you’d leave a message on his machine letting him know if you did a double shift at The Hammer, and so he went up to wash his face and see if you’d called.  His boots clomped wearily on the steps, tired shoulders rolling, his neck cracking.  

With his shirt off, he dried the water and soap from his face, wet bangs brushed off his forehead, and then hung the towel around his neck as he played the messages he had.

The first one was from Melanie, and he deleted it as soon as it was over with a weary sigh. 

He snatched the matchbook he found in Craig’s motel room from the nightstand and spun it in his fingers as he sat down on the bed, lips jerking up in a smile at the sound of your voice in the next message.

You’d decided to go to a wedding with Robin.  He stopped twirling the matchbook and let that sink in.  But, Steve would be there too, you assured him, and you asked him to join you if he was in the mood.  You said you’d call when you got back to Robin’s if you didn’t see or hear from him.  You told him you loved him, and he whispered, “I love you too,” at the machine.

The only problem was, you forgot to mention where, exactly, the wedding was.  

He spun the matchbook again as the next voice clicked on:  Melanie. Again.

But, this time her words made an uncomfortable lump form in his throat.  

Melanie was at the same wedding? Fuck. 

The end of her message sent fireworks through his blood, and he put the matchbook down to go over and search through the pile of papers on his desk for the invitation that he got.  It was still sealed in the envelope, and he ripped the corner open with his teeth, spitting out the paper, cringing as confetti fluttered to the ground when he pulled out the buttercream invitation with lace corners.

Golden Lion Hotel and Resort

His mouth went dry as he circled back around the bed to pick up the matchbook again, realizing with a buzzing in his ears that it was from the same place.

And it had been in Craig’s room.  The only trace left of him in an otherwise immaculate space.

Eddie squeezed the matchbook so tight in his fist, he crushed it, and then he went to find you.  

Part 15

I cherish you all, and please remember that your comments, especially your reblogs, mean the absolute world to me.

------

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[inferno-0]

Can you do muto fluff 🥺 my bbg don't get enough attention

I agree, our lady needs attention.

────────────────────────────

Female M.U.T.O. x reader (fluff)

Warning: You're literally hanging on the hook. (It's all because of your recklessness and concern for the Titan)

Sorry for the English

────────────────────────────

Dark clouds covered the sky in the blink of an eye, although just a couple of minutes ago the sun was shining, which was too scorching for you. But the rays of this source did not reach you because of the large shadow above your body.

Looking up, you saw Barb's brooding face, staring out at the green expanse of space, blinking slowly. Her massive body has blocked almost the entire area near your house, or even the entire territory where you live. People looking at this scene outside the window are already used to and understand that this Titan is under your control and in the event of an attack, you will stop it by any means.

Ahh If only.

Your head tilted toward Barb's gray limb. The curves of her front legs were the most useful and comfortable for you. You've always liked to sit in this place and just take a nap without thinking about anything.

Especially in this weather.

Dark and gloomy.

On the other hand, you just felt safe being around her in those moments. And Barb herself didn't mind having some contact with you. She was interested in your little humanoid body, which didn't want to run away. Maybe she could have left to live like an ordinary Titan on this earth, though. But it seems that these thoughts will forever be washed away by the rain that fell from the sky in small drops. For you, it's already considered a downpour, but for Kaiju, it's like a regular drizzle. Imperceptibly coming and going unnoticed.

The Titan's figure vibrated, its head tilted toward you, meeting you with a rhythmic flutter.

Narrow red eyes scrutinized you from head to toe, briefly paying attention to the details on your clothes. However, she did not dare to press against your side, as she usually did. You're hunched over, sniffing in the cool as your lightly dressed body washes over you.

You didn't want to leave so early and leave your companion in the rain.

"Is something wrong?"

Titan, in response to your question, just silently continued to watch you. The way you cringed nervously at the droplets now falling on your feet.

The moisture was unpleasant, especially the cold air blowing in from somewhere to the east. With your legs tucked underneath you, you sat up, stretching your back from the long position of lying on the Titan's limbs. Glancing at Barb, you swallowed awkwardly. The silence between the two of you has been tense and there is no telling what action is expected of the two of you. Although Kaiju was always calm and quiet, he never made any noise other than crackling. Other than that, Barb just preferred to keep her eyes on you. It's strange, but for her, it was something ordinary.

You sighed, reaching forward to Barb's head. Your fingers slowly ran over her lower so-called fangs, or grips, which were the hardest compared to the rest of her body. They were more like plates than scales. ─"Let's sit here a little longer." A yawn came out of your mouth before sneezing right into the Titan's jaw. Barb lifted her head when she felt your liquid on her. You bit your lip in shame and rubbed your nose, which was slowly starting to turn red. It looks like the cold came much earlier than it should have....

A gray giant looking at you and your actions. A clicking sound immediately swept through your ears with a hint of excitement and questioning.

"I'm fine, don't worry" You covered your mouth with your hand, drowning out another sneeze while Barb chirped suspiciously. Your front foot, which looks like braids, lifts up, causing you to stagger. The long claw was heading straight for the Titan's massive mouth. You opened your eyes in shock and pressed against your foot, intending to jump. Your heart at that moment was ready to leave your body from the force of the pounding, which seemed to be felt in all places.

"H-Hold on.."

The closer you were, the more spirit you had to jump down, which was not safe for you. Feeling safe with this Titan must have been a mistake.

It's just as much a mistake as hiding your problems and staying where you are.

─"Oh" Your body was hanging as if on a hook, but only above the ground. The clothes that got caught in the dagger-like teeth choked you slightly, but no more. Barb tried to hold you in her jaws as tightly as possible. Her torso turned straight toward your house and walked forward as you dangled hopelessly in the air like a cat. ─ "I never thought to be in the place of these animals."

Your landing was softer than you thought. It was as gentle as the Titan's muzzle, which caressed your back and saw you off with a soft click.

Sighing, you smiled.

"And who's under control in the end?"

────────────────────────────

[deadlyashesart]

Alastor's disappearance (Part 3)

I'm so sorry I was late to post this, I went through writers block and couldn't write anything for hours LOL. I hope you like this part, even if Alastor is a bit of an ass. The comfort comes soon, I swear. I didn't have enough time to look this over, so if there are any mistakes I do apologize.

Part 2

-----

7 years. It had been 7 years since she last saw him. What was she to say now that he was back? Rosie spent hours, days, weeks, worrying herself to sickness, and now he just sat next to her like he hadn't been gone at all. When did he return? Why didn't he come to her? Why didn't he talk to her before he left all those years ago?

Rosie turned her head to him, hoping he’d look back at her when her gaze was caught by a cute little egg boy on the ground. Out of habit, she smiled widely at him, and the egg scurried off in fear. Rosie had always been known for having a friendly and inviting smile, so this took her by surprise.

When she looked back up from the ground, her eyes locked with Alastor’s, who was smiling brightly at her. Rosie didn't know how to feel. She was beyond overjoyed that Alastor had returned safe and alive, but she couldn't help but feel anger and resentment towards him for leaving without so much as a goodbye.

Rosie smiled back anyway, although incredibly strained— at least to Rosie standards. Alastor seemed to take notice of this, as his permanent smile faltered ever so slightly. This isn't how she wanted their reunion to go.

“...Alast—”

“Welcome, Hell’s sovereign overlords.” Carmilla Carmine walked up to the front of the table, elegant as always. “I’ve invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. Together, you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new Extermination schedule.” She pounded the table with her fist. “We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest.”

Rosie was glad to see the other overlords wanting to do something about the extermination as she'd hoped, but she would be lying if she said that was what she was focused on right now. Despite her better judgment, she could only stare at Alastor as her feelings continued to fester.

“Alastor?” Camilla called out in slight surprise.

“Yes, I know I've been absent for quite some time, I’m sure you've all been wondering!” Alastor replied. Rosie’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. Yeah, no kidding.

“Not really…” Camilla paused. “But welcome back in any case.”

-----

The meeting was ended abruptly by Carmilla, and the rest of the overlords began to leave. Rosie noticed Alastor fall behind, staying in the office for an extra moment to talk to the little egg boy she saw earlier. She waited for him by the elevators, and by the time he left, the rest of the overlords were gone.

“Rosie! What a pleasure to see you!” He exclaimed happily, making his way towards her with open arms. “It's been quite a while, hasn't it, old friend?”

Rosie crossed her arms. “Quite,” she mumbled coldly. What was she doing? She had rehearsed this a thousand times in her head; This isn't how she wanted it to go at all. Her emotions were too much to contain now that they were finally talking face to face.

Alastor looked taken aback, his eyes widening. That was not the greeting he had expected from her. “Is something the matter, my dear?”

Rosie struggled to find the words, she wasn't sure how to lay it down gently, so she didn't. “I- You… Where were you, Alastor..?” she asked, her breath quivering. “You were gone for so long! Where were you?”

Alastor chuckled dismissively, obviously not wanting to speak of this subject. “Ahh, well, I just took a well-deserved sabbatical! It's truly no big deal.”

Rosie uncrossed her arms, clenching her fists as her emotions became harder and harder to contain. “No big deal..? Y-you left without a word! Not to me, not to anyone! Alastor, I was worried sick!”

Rosie was usually a very calm, friendly, and patient person, she was rarely—if ever—upset. Seeing her lost in a sea of emotions was something unfamiliar to her, and to Alastor.

“My dear Rosie, I do not understand why you are so emotional. I’m here now! Isn't that what matters?” His cheery tone made Rosie want to rip that smile off his face, is that really all he had to say to her?

Rosie took a few breaths, fighting back tears as they threatened to spill. “How long have you been back?”

Alastor hummed in thought. “Well, I’ve been back for a few weeks now!” He smiled, trying to bring the mood up.

“A… A few weeks? How come I only see you now, then?! You disappear for years and you can't even be bothered to tell me you came back? I thought you were dead!” Rosie yelled, resting a hand on her chest.

“I’ve been preoccupied with something important, my dear,” he answered. Seeing Rosie in this state made him uncomfortable, he didn't know what to say to her. “I've been… Helping with a project.”

Her anger slowly faded, being replaced with an intense sadness. “You couldn't have visited at all..? Not even a letter..?”

Alastor’s ears flattened against his head. “It— It seemed to have slipped my mind.” Alastor took a step closer; Rosie took two steps back. “Don't be like that, my dear…”

Rosie took a deep, shaky breath, bringing herself back to a calm expression, but refusing to look at Alastor. “I should've expected this from you,” she mumbled. “You've never been remorseful for your actions, no matter who you hurt.” She paused, gently hugging herself in search of comfort.

“I just thought that maybe…” Rosie stopped herself from saying any more. “Have a good day.” She turned on her heel and entered the elevator. Alastor watched in a confused daze as she left.

The filter on his voice crackled as he felt the guilt start to set in. “Shit…”

-----

[thepenandthepistol]

Mundane Aching (Platonic!Grain x reader)

Due to some soreness, you're unable to help Gem like you said you would. Grian helps you out and soothes some of your worries.

A/N : Sickfic I wrote because my period was killing me T-T and also the first thing I've actually posted on this account! A win for the slayers of perfectionism. This was meant as a platonic fic but I'm sure you could read it as romantic if you want. Also, reader is an avian as well. (1018 words)

Art by @applestruda and divider by @saradika-graphics

There's still so much to be done, and here you are, still under the sheets. You spent the first half of the day trying to manage a creeping pain in your back right where skin meets the base of your coal-black wings. Ache spreads in waves from the limb and into your vertebra, as if something alive is puppeteering the sinews under your skin.

Despite the guilt, you've resigned yourself to your bed; due to an enormous nap, you missed your afternoon plans with Gem. Being an avian means you were much more used to flying than she was, and the new nether build she was planning required some tight maneuvering. Days like these are some you look forward to, holding onto the back of her chestplate, hovering over lava lakes and bastions. 

The trust she has in you, feeling safe even if dangling over potential death, is special in its own right. The friendship you've cultivated and the idle conversations had midair are among your most treasured memories. So, when the exhaustion from carrying materials to and from your shop finally made itself known, you groaned as you curled up on your bed, trying to push away the pain and at least pass by Gem's to apologize for your absence. Maybe sweeten the deal with a nice cake and evening tea.

A sudden flash of crimson outside your window makes you stop in your tracks, feet just inches from touching the cool floor. A single moment of silence is had before Grian pulls himself back up onto the windowsill with a mischievous smile. 

"Did I scare you?" He asks, shuffling inside and closing the window behind him with a soft click.

"Oh yeah," you start, closing your eyes and breathing deeply as a particularly sharp stab rolls from your back and claws at your ribs. "Only if being worried you were going to cut your wings on the bars outside counts as scared." 

"Excuse me, I'm very skilled! I could probably dodge like five of those in a row." He speaks with a smile, but, to your dismay, he's seen through your teasing and into the discomfort below. 

"Gem's been looking for you," he says, aligning some of the trinkets on your shelf and picking your work clothes off the floor. "Sent me here to check while she continued working." 

"Shit," you sigh and drape your arm over your eyes, blocking the light crawling in from outside. "I'm having a bad day, I guess. Must've overworked myself last week, and now my wings are killing me."

"Have you had something to eat?" You hear your closet door creek open and Grian looking for something between clothes and towels.

"Not exactly. I had a snack before midday, but I slept through lunch." You open your eyes to see him bring a nice blanket over your shoulders. It doesn't ease the pain, but the soft texture makes existing a little easier.

"Well, just about time for some tea then." You grimace, remembering your promise to Gem. Grian moves to close the room door behind him when you groan out a protest, wrapping the woolen quilt around yourself and finally standing up.

"I'll join you. If I lay here any longer, I'll sleep the entire day away," Grian snickers, but walks in sync with your lethargic steps down the stairs and into a quaint kitchen. 

Plopping down on a stool, you watch Grian clack on the stove and place a ceramic kettle on top. It was a birthday gift from Ren. A painted flock of dark birds contrasts the white background alongside some fleuron details. 

"Grian, mate, it's you," you point to a particularly wonky bird.

"Absolutely not, look at him! He's your splitting image." He gestures to the dark wings behind you. 

"You know what else is splitting?"

"Your head?"

"My head."

You rest your temple on the wooden table and furrow your eyebrows. You could probably make the journey over to Gem's by now; despite the headache and muscle cramps, you're feeling well enough to stand, and you could chance flying the short way over. 

With a crack, you stretch your wings entirely; they spasm a bit before reaching their full length; you pay no mind. What was once a terrible tendon-deep flare has resided to a burning soreness; you've done more than travel a couple hundred blocks in worse conditions. 

Grian pours the water into two mugs, each with a homemade teabag flopping loosely off the side. You take the smaller mug, lifting it to say 'cheers,' and sip on the sweet berry. You begin putting on your boots when Grian finally lets concern wash over his face.

"You should rest a bit more. Gem's fine. Her garden's turning out really nice." You hesitate a tad bit before tying the laces together.

"I promised her I'd help you know. I'm sure she understands, but I want to make good on my word." You don't register Grian setting down his mug and tilt your head in confusion as he kneels and pulls your boots to his thigh, unlacing them.

"You sound like a knight going to war," he cracks a tiny fond smile. "I know it's your nature, but these things aren't that serious. Your 'word' is still good even if you don't put your own health on the line." Silence follows.

"You're sure she doesn't need me?"

"Positively." He stalks off to line your shoes up by the door and then returns, sitting next to you on the couch and letting his wing curl around you.

"You need to relax. No wonder you're having a bad time when your muscles are that tense." He teases, and you scoff, taking back the mug and continuing to drink.

"Can you tell Gem I won't be making it then, please." 

"Yeah, course," he says, knocking his shoulder with yours and hopping to his feet. 

"I should tie a letter to your leg and throw you out of the second-story window." You say into the mug as he turns the knob on the front door.

"Hey! I am not a pigeon!"