#body glitter was a hell of a drug

[chrispineofficial]

i cannot express enough how much i was sixteen in the year 2000 and i am getting such a weird nostalgia high/low off @y2kmagazines thank u for your service 🫡

[gimmethatagustd]

technicolor | pjm

Love is one hell of a drug. Bottled and sold on the black market, it isn't for the faint-hearted. You're not really interested in trying it until you meet Jimin.

○ Pairing: Jimin x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Strangers to lovers, dystopian, angst (?), smut

○ 3 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Dystopian)

○ Word Count: 992

○ Warnings: Implied drug usage (syringes), unprotected vaginal sex, bathroom sex, sex while under the influence (of love jhsdkfsj)

○ Notes: I tried so hard to keep this at a normal drabble word count jhkdfs

○ Post Date: January 11, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Serendipity - BTS

“Have you ever been in love?” Jimin leans into you so he doesn’t have to yell over the music. He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, a musky kind that’s likely expensive. 

You shake your head. Of course not. No one has. 

“I could love you.” 

Jimin’s face glows blue from the strobe lights, then lights up with streaks of pink and gold that cut across his face like lightning. There’s silver glitter smeared under his eyes, and his teeth sparkle when he bites the tip of his tongue with some twisted form of a knowing smile. 

He’s pretty, a technicolor dream sticking out like a beacon amongst a sea of gray bodies grinding to the DJ’s electronic music. You’ve never met someone who looks like him; you've only seen people so colorful and bright on television. No one in real life seeks out passion. No one in real life looks so alive. You don’t even feel it, though sometimes you think there’s something inside of you that yearns to, like a ghost of a reminder that humans’ bodies once evolved to do more than just want. 

They tell you that life is about fulfilling needs: hunger, thirst, and the drive for success. There is no such thing as pleasure. 

Yet here is this stranger promising love where he sits at the bar beside you with a cherry stem tied into a knot between his teeth and silver studs poking out from the shoulders of his blue jean jacket. 

“Could you?” you ask, barely swallowing because your heart thumps in your throat. There’s only one way Jimin could love you, and it isn’t legal.

Jimin pats his chest, curling his fingers around the edge of his jacket. When he pulls it open far enough to peek inside, you see the syringe and a glass vial filled with a light pink liquid tucked into the inside pocket.

“I could,” Jimin says with a smile too pretty to be mixed up in something like this. “Will you let me?”

“Fuck, I love you so fucking much,” Jimin rasps against the curve of your ear. His hot breath dances down your neck, making goosebumps spring up along your forearms.

“I love you too,” you moan the unfamiliar words. They flow out of you easily and are quickly lost between Jimin’s lips and teeth. 

Jimin whimpers when you suck on his bottom lip. The sound is cute. Jimin is cute. It’s the first thing you’d noticed about him when he slid into the seat next to you at the bar. With glitter smeared beneath his eyes and a sparkling smile, he charmed you away from your friends and into the dingy bathroom.  

There’s so much more to Jimin than his looks, though. You love Jimin for everything that he is, the good and the bad, even though you don’t know what any of those things are. It doesn’t matter. Because you love him, those other things don’t need to matter. 

Heat builds between the two of you in the cramped bathroom. Sweat makes the crease of your thigh sticky against Jimin’s bare hip. When you splay your hands against Jimin’s back to pull him closer, you can feel the cotton stick to his skin with sweat. He’d shed his jean jacket before hoisting you up to sit on the edge of the sink. 

Your ass barely fits on the thin lip of the sink. With how sweaty your skin is, you keep almost slipping off of it. The thrust of Jimin’s hips rocks you backward. The back of your thighs are beginning to chafe, but you don’t notice, especially not when Jimin’s hands squeeze your ass to hold you in place as he fucks you with sharp, deep thrusts. 

“It’s so good, Jimin. You feel so good.” Your hands shake as you rake them down his back, pulling his t-shirt hard enough that it makes him gasp when the collar tightens around his neck.

“Best you’ve had, right, baby?”

“Yes, yes, your cock is s-sooo–” Your words are cut off by a loud sob that shudders through your body. 

When you pull Jimin closer, you feel his tears smear against your neck as he tucks his face into your shoulder. You don’t know why you’re both crying, but it feels good to let your body tremble and heave while Jimin’s cock glides in and out of you. This is love, having a body hold you, whisper sweet reassurances in your ear.

Jimin loves you. He loves your body, the way you smell, how wet and hot your pussy is around his cock. He loves your cute gasps and everything, really. He loves everything, even though he knows nothing. 

Jimin cums after you. Once he’s finished, he zips up his jeans and tucks the half-empty vial in the inside pocket of his jean jacket. He helps you hop down from the sink and straighten out your skirt. The high is gone, short-lived, a burst of a star before it dies. Love is fickle like that, you suppose. But what do you know? This is your first time trying it out. 

“I feel… Is it supposed to feel, um, weird?” You press your palm to your chest and take a deep breath. 

Jimin checks his hair in the mirror and flicks at the black strands with his pinkies. 

“It’ll go away after a few hours.” His response feels simple. It feels… 

“I feel really… empty.” 

“It’s like a hangover,” Jimin turns to give you a sparkling smile that makes your stomach twist, “Drink some water and sleep it off.” 

You let Jimin take your phone to input his number. When he gives it back, his contact name is Loverboy. Something about it bothers you. 

“I had fun,” Jimin giggles after kissing your cheek. “If you ever want more love, call me, okay?” 

You watch Jimin slip through the bathroom doors, love held hidden against his chest.

@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

[shyyubin]

Our Little Secret˗ˏˋ꒰ ♣️꒱

<CEO!jaehyun x assistant!fem!yn>

synopsis: yn finally gets a job but her ceo just so happens to be the same guy who made the porn video she was masturbating to a couple days ago!

part 01

A/N: a lot more of you than I expected wanted a part two so I delivered. Excuse the long wait but…I guess it’s sort of a Christmas gift! Merry Christmas 🎄!

office romance // CEO x assistant // sort of slow-burn // smut // degrading // consent asking // secret dating // public sex // in the bathroom // drunk sex // sneaky

Eyes fluttering open, yn’s met with the sleeping face of her CEO. In the blink of an eye, she’s reminded of everything that happened last night.

I must’ve been stupid! Was I drugged?? Just how the hell did I do that???

Without a second of hesitation, she quickly turns around to leave her bed but her wrist is quickly stopped. “Will you really leave me like that?” he asks with a low and husky voice. He groans a couple times, stretching his body.

“I will. Let’s not mention this anymore.” yn twists her wrist to break free but it’s useless. His grip is too firm. “Let me go!”

“You agreed to this, remember? You wanted this..” his voice was sly, she caught onto his manipulation in a second.

“Jaehyun-ssi. I’m your assistant. Let’s keep our relationship professional. I don’t know what went through me yesterday.” with more wiggling, she set her hand free and got up, pulling the blanket around her body—leaving his hot skin feel the cold air of their room. Jaehyun scoffs, getting up to clothe himself.

As yn was sunken in her daydreams, her phone beeps loudly. “Come in my office” from none other than Jaehyun. She sighs, wanting nothing more than to avoid him. So much for getting a good job.

She knocks diligently on his door before sliding through. Yn bows lightly, giving him a professional smile. “How may I help you?”

Jaehyun squints his eyes in disgust at her sudden proffesionalism. “What’s with you…Anyways, settle a team dinner this evening. You may choose the location, just don’t choose anything cheap.”

“Understood. I’ll do that…Do you have any preferences? …Something specific you’d like to eat?” her eyes grow curious as she pulls out a small notebook to write it down.

“You.” he replies boldly, staring right in her now flustered eyes. His smirk grows as he carefully licks his lips.

“Uhm..Well…I’ll just choose on my own then..” she blabbers, excusing herself out of his office.

“Wait.”

Her head turns around, a bit worried at what else he might say. “What is it?”

“What we did last night…it wasn’t something wrong. Don’t be ashamed of it.” his tone was reassuring but he wasn’t making eye contact with her.

She bows, avoiding his words and exiting his room.

Yn’s eyes flutter closed when her alarm suddenly jolts her awake. It was her 7pm alarm for their team dinner. She wipes her eyes and tries to straighten her suit back on her. Without hesitating, she walks up to Jaehyun’s office, gently knocking on it. “Jaehyun-ssi..?” Opening the door she finds him working diligently on some paperwork. Looking up above his glasses frames, his eyebrows raise lightly, asking her to continue. “Uhm…It’s 7pm. We should head to the dinner table.” Jaehyun nods, setting his pen down and taking his glasses off, letting his hair flow past his dark eyes. “Alright then. Let’s get going. I’ll drive us there.”

Getting in his car, yn carefully takes out her makeup pouch, opening the car mirror and starting to retouch her look and even adding a couple special details. Like a touch of glitter on her eyelids, a brighter highlighter in the corner of her eyes, a darker blush and a nice dark red lipstick, enhancing her feminine appearance. Although the car was moving all throughout her get-ready-with-me scene, her makeup was flawless and it looked as if she did this before.

As she places everything back, Jaehyun’s look turned to her during a stop. “Did you really have to get this dolled up just for a team dinner? When did you even change outfits..” he asks, almost scoffing. Yn would like to think it’s jealousy, but her mind refused to do that.

“I like dolling myself up everywhere. And I quickly ran home to grab this outfit. It’s pretty, right?” she gives him a smile before putting her pouch away, smacking her lips and analysing her work in the car mirror. Jaehyun was so mesmerised by her…dressed in all white. Her tight short tweed skirt matching with her cropped tweed coat which revealed her collarbone and waist. As Jaehyun admired her curves and beauty the cars started honking angrily behind him. He clears his throat, “We’re almost there so you better finish up.”

And as the car slows down, he steps out, hurrying to yn’s door to open it. This made her stop a little. Why is he doing this? Shouldn’t I be the one assisting him? But still, she bowed lightly, avoiding eye contact and rushed inside the bar.

“Just where did you take us?” Jaehyun asks, stepping in close behind yn, looking all over the place for a table with their teammates.

“There!” Yn points to a table far in a corner of the well decorated and expensive-looking restaurant and then waves happily. Jaehyun eyes her from top to bottom, letting out a faint smile at her childish behaviour.

“Yaaah!! You two are finally here!!….sir!” Jisung, one of her coworkers, exclaims while waving.

“Hello, hello. Did you guys order food yet?” she asks, taking off her coat

“Of course!” Jungwoo replies excitedly. Yn giggles at his behaviour.

Watching everyone get along sort of made Jaehyun feel left out. It reminded him how little he actually knew about his employees. He sits down and tries to awkwardly ease himself into the vibe of the dinner. Jaehyun didn’t want to make it overly difficult as he’s their boss but it did feel like the atmosphere was getting heavy.

As he sat down, the whole table got silent and bowed lightly. “Good evening, sir.” Jungwoo said to break the silence. He pats his palm on the chair next to him for yn to sit on. Before she could react, Jaehyun pulls her arm and forces her down on the seat next to him. It startles her but she tries to stay calm and laugh it off.

“How about we start with some soju?” yn suggests, picking up a bottle of soju and opening it. She pours a shot to everyone sitting at the table before sitting back down and holding her cup up. “Cheers! And thank you to our boss for taking us out for dinner tonight~!” she says cheerfully making everyone happily saying “cheers!” while clinking their glasses together.

“Thank you, boss!” they each say, making Jaehyun awfully flattered. “My pleasure, my pleasure…” he’d say before quickly downing the shot to ease the awkwardness.

Shot after shot, Jaehyun was getting tipsier and tipsier. Sure he handled his alcohol but 4 bottles was definitely overfilling. Everyone was getting worried but secretly they enjoyed it since they could unwind and quit being so strict because of Jaehyun’s presence.

“Jeong-ssi..wake up…we should go home.” yn asks, shaking him lightly but he was fast asleep. “Jeong-ssi?” she tries to shake him harder, making him groan and reposition himself, accidentally knocking down a glass of red wine on yn’s expensive white outfit. The gasps and the clinking of the wine glass wakes Jaehyun up. He begins to quietly apologise and to sleepily look everywhere for paper towels to wipe her dry.

“..’m so sorry…Sorry, sorry…I apologise, beautiful…” his murmuring was hard to decode but for some forbidden reason, yn understood it very well.

“I’ll go to the bathroom. The tissues are probably all there.” she says, getting up and trying to still smile despite being utterly furious. Her outfit was so expensive, and she bought it the night prior. Wine is so difficult to remove, as well. It really couldn’t get any worse than this.

Yn storms off to the bathroom leaving Jaehyun dazed in his chair. “..wait…yn…let me come help you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he murmurs again, struggling to get up and then once he’s got himself on both feet he attempts to walk towards yn, grabbing her hand tightly once he reached her.

Her head turns around worried but then calms down when her eyes are met with a sleepy Jaehyun who’s struggling to keep himself stable on both feet. “Let me help you.” he struggles to say, finally making eye contact with her.

“Jeong-ssi, you can’t help me…I’m entering the girl’s bathroom.” she tries to explain but is cut off by Jaehyun suddenly having the strength to pull her in the bathroom and pinning her to one of the sinks.

“It’s okay…my eyes are only on you, anyways…” he murmurs, sliding his hands under her ass and pulling her up to sit on the edge of the sink. He turns on the water silently and begins to struggle to remove the wine stain.

“It’s useless…Forget it. I’ll just throw it..” yn says with disappointment escaping her lips. She pouts, looking away.

“Oh…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry….How..how can I make it up to you..?” he asks, his eyes switching between staring at her eyes and her lips.

“Uhm…I’ll just appreciate it if you could—“ her words were abruptly interrupted by his lips smashing against hers. His violent yet passion love escaping his every breath. Yn didn’t hold herself back either, there was passion hidden behind the both of them and it was finally unveiled now.

Taking her coat off, Jaehyun overhears some girls coming into the bathroom. He quickly and skillfully—despite being 4 bottles drunk—carries her to one of the stalls, slamming the door behind him. Throughout his impressive move, he never let go of her lips. Savouring her every inch.

“…Yn-ssi…” he whispers, trying to not be overheard by the girls outside of their stall.

Yn’s dazed gaze looks up at him. “..yeah..?”

“I..I really don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from doing this to you…” he continues, his voice getting louder. The girls seemed to notice since their voices get lost and they make sure to close the door behind them. “I’m really sorry…It’s all a blur right now but..I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” he finishes, his husky tone reminding yn of those god-forsaken videos he published.

She gulps, avoiding eye contact with him. “You’ll…you’ll be alright, yeah..?” he asks, slowly tipping her coat over her shoulders, revealing them to the cold air. “If I…If I kiss you like this…over here” he murmurs as he leans into the edge of her neck and collarbone, pressing long and hot kisses, trailing his tongue up to the back of her ear. “…you’ll let me kiss you like this, right?” he continues to ask even though he clearly knows yn is in no position to answer any questions right now. She’s hardly able to keep her legs stable.

“Yn…” Jaehyuns sloppy hands wander to her chest, unbuttoning her shirt and pulling it apart, revealing her white and laced bra, cupping her breasts snug. “How do you like your breasts touched..?” he continues, sliding his hand to yn’s back and unclipping her bra efficiently, letting it fall down as her boobs bounce out. “Do you like them fondled?” he adds as he replicates with his hands what his words produce. “Or…maybe you like them licked?”

His words were menacing. They were driving yn absolutely crazy. Her core was never as hungry as it was right now. It’d swallow just about anything. Her thighs instinctively rub against eachother, creating friction where she needed it the most. “J-Jeong-ssi…” she manages to utter.

“Yes..Tell me, baby…How do you like it? I really want to feel good with you.” His gaze was fixated on yn’s dazed one.

“Please…s-stop the teasing…I..I want you.”

Jaehyun nods, a clear smirk forming on his face. “I’ll give you exactly what you need but…our little secret shouldn’t be disclosed, you know. You should keep quiet..” he adds, untying his tie and wrapping it around yn’s mouth, making her bite on it. “Good girl. Now let go for me..”

His hands slide to her hot and wet core, making her squeal just from barely brushing his fingers against her laced panties. His excitement takes him over and he shoves two fingers up her tight cunt. Yn bites hard on the tie, letting out muffled moans as her legs part for him to have space. “Fuck…How the fuck are you this sexy..?” he exhales, thrusting his fingers hard right where she needed it the most.

“Cum, cum for me..come on…I can feel you tightening your slutty muscles around me. Let it go…”

And as if on command, yn unleashes the knot in her stomach and cums on his fingers, leaving them nice and glossed as well as your pussy ready to take him in. After a couple praises and kisses on your forehead, he quickly takes his already hardened length and shoves it inside. “Ahh..so nice and cozy here…I prepped you so well. So nice for me. I love you.” he groans as his pace speeds up, letting the wet squelching and skin slapping fill the bathroom. The both of them desperately hoping that no one else could hear them.

Yn’s nails dig into his strong arms which hold into her waist tightly. As if making her his, Jaehyun’s gaze refuses to leave her lustful face. It looked to perfect. Perfectly ruined by him. It’s as if an artist were looking at his artwork. Teary eyes, unable to stay open, a wet tie which was stuck between her teeth, grabbing on it tight to keep any moan safe in her throat. She gulps as she feels the knot in her stomach tighten once more. Yn looks up at him pleadingly.

“I’ll make you cum again, love. Don’t worry. You can let go as many times as you want with me.” and as if these words were magic once again, her cunt tightens around his pulsating length as she releases everything on him, her legs giving out. Jaehyun successfully catches her before falling. “Stay with me. I’m not done yet.” so he continues to thrust into her sensitive cunt.

Despite biting hard onto the tie, her moans failed to be contained. That’s when Jaehyun heard the door being opened again. He smacks his hand on her mouth continuing to slowly and carefully thrust into her. As if the situation weren’t already exciting—having sex with her boss in a public bathroom—everything just got 10x more exciting for yn.

Jaehyun leans down to her ear, “Can you imagine how slutty you must sound right now?” he carefully whispers, trying his hardest to finish his sentence from all the whimpering.

His words turned yn on a lot. As if her cunt weren’t already wet enough, it felt as if it just came again. Jaehyun chuckles. “You came again? From my words only?” he laughs, mercilessly pounding in her once he hears the bathroom door close again.

And with a couple more slams, Jaehyun pulls out, carefully releasing his load on her stomach. His moans melted yn’s ears. They were the song she could only hear for herself—a very special song.

As the two are left panting, the alcohol suddenly leaves the both of them, making them stare in shock at what they just did. “D-do you think anyone found out..?” yn asks, with a hint of excitement.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you of anything.” he reassures, although his gaze wasn’t fixated with yn’s.

After carefully cleaning yn’s stomach up, along with her coat, they decide they should go back to their table.

“What took you two so long?” Jungwoo cluelessly asks. After a closer inspection, he notices yn’s messed up hair and lipstick. “Hey…did you two…”

“—I think it’s getting awfully late! What do you think, Jeong-ssi? Shouldn’t we go home?” yn tries to avoid the obvious question, unconsciously fixing her hair and wiping her lipstick.

“Yn-ah! I’ll call you an uber! You shouldn’t drive after drinking..” Jungwoo says, calling an uber from his phone.

“Ah—it’s really fine I’ll…!!”

“I already called it…ask him to take our boss home too, yeah?” he adds with a cheerful smile followed by a wink which made yn laugh nervously.

“You heard him..let’s wait for our uber…” she adds, linking arms with a still tipsy Jaehyun.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ MIDNIGHTS — track one : lavender haze

summary. you're dragged to a house party by your best friend, and subsequently meet two men that will change your life, all in one night.

featuring. rodolfo 'rudy' parra + alejandro vargas

warnings. nsfw, alcohol consumption, modern au, implied drug use, f/m/m, mutually under the influence, partying, slight peer pressure, public sex (?), bathroom sex, oral, degradation, strangers to lovers

series masterlist.

"Jesus christ," you murmur, wincing at the sudden and overpowering smell of weed, cruisers and sweat. Not exactly an appealing mix, but not revolting, at least. Better than vomit. Too early in the night for that, you supposed.

Valeria mutters something under her breath, and with a roll of her eyes, drags you by the scuff of your neck to the kitchen.

Bodies litter every open bit of room on the floor, grinding against each other, neon lights casting vibrant colours over the sheen of sweat on their skin. It's oddly enchanting.

The glitter littered on your collarbones and cleavage shine in the cascading lights, and you hope that you look somewhat confident, even if you feel anything but. You weren't one for house parties, hell, this was one of your first, but Valeria had convinced you to 'let loose' and 'have fun'.

You didn't say how you knew that this party was an excuse to get business done, but then again, that was why the two of you were so close.

Plausible deniability, and all that.

A drink is slammed into your chest, a little bit splashing onto your skin. You shoot an unamused glare Valeria's way, to which she just replies with a small shrug. "Drink."

"If it's drugged, I'll kill you," you say. ...Only half joking. You knew -- hoped -- that she wouldn't, but again, it was Valeria.

Another roll of her eyes and a scoff. "You can try."

You wouldn't, because at the end of the day, you did enjoy being alive and functioning. Both things were quite useful.

Valeria's eyes catch on something, or someone, behind you, and her glare narrows even further, her mouth hitching up into a hardly discreet scowl.

You turn, but she quickly grabs you by the hair to stop you from doing so. "Don't look," she seethes, venom in her tone.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Valeria," a man's voice chimes from behind you, snarky and impatient.

Your closest friend's lips pull into a cruel, cunning smile, void of any warmth as she glares at whoever's behind you. "Alejandro," she snarls, her voice bitter.

Swallowing, you nervously try and think of a way to get out from between whatever the fuck is going on here. You didn't exactly feel like getting involved in... whatever Valeria did under your nose.

"And who's she?" The man asks, sounding just the slightest bit closer. His tone has taken an interested, more curious tone, not nearly as harsh or abrasive.

You play with the necklace around your neck in nervous movements, trying to quell your growing anxiety.

Valeria huffs a cold laugh. "Not apart of this," is her only answer, accent thickening just the slightest, like it did when she was pissed off, or... scared. Which had only been once, in all fairness, and that was because of a spider.

"Vamos, necesitamos hablar. Sácala de aquí [Come on, we need to talk. Get her out of here]," the man spits out, vitriol heavy on his tongue like some kind of poison.

"Tócala y morirás, Alejandro [Touch her and you will die, Alejandro]," is Valeria's hiss of a reply, her hold tightening in your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut, nervous and completely out of your element, and scared shitless.

The man behind you -- Alejandro -- murmurs a bunch of curses under his breath, before he replies once more. "Rodolfo will keep her safe."

"¿Crees que confío en ti? [Do you think I trust you?]" Valeria's eyes burn with rage from what you can see in the dim lighting, and it sends a shiver down your spine. "Bien. Si ella tiene un rasguño, ambos moriréis [Fine. If she gets a scratch, you'll both die]."

She looks down to you, her hand falling from the fist it had in your hair. "If he so much as breathes at you wrong, yell for me," she mutters in a low tone, before pushing you towards someone without so much as another look in your direction.

Your breathing comes out in short, quick pants, when a warm arm slides around your waist. You flinch in surprise, looking up into warm brown eyes.

"Rodolfo," the man says, an introduction. His head gestures sharply to the man following after a fuming Valeria. "Alejandro."

You nod, albeit with confusion, and pray that your embarrassment isn't obvious on your face when you say your name in a way of greeting.

Rodolfo nods, and there's a calmness to him that settles your nerves and overall antsiness.

"¿Quieres bailar? [You want to dance?]" He asks, and you tilt your head slightly to the side. He raises a brow, taking in your appearance. Your black dress is completely and utterly slutty, but you had wanted to try and be a different person for a night.

...You were maybe, slightly, regretting it.

"I..." you start, unsure what to do or say, before he simply drags you towards the loungeroom, where everyone's packed like sardines.

His chest presses against your own, his arm still around your lower back. Your hands, nervously, rest at his chest, and you have to crane your neck a little to make eye contact.

You are so, so, so screwed.

His mouth tilts into a small smirk, obviously aware of your uncertainty. "I'm protecting you, hermosa [beautiful]. You're safe with me," he whispers, leaning in close to your ear, and you just about melt. His voice is velvety and smooth and so fucking attractive that you can't believe that you're even here right now.

Swallowing, you nod slowly. "Okay. I'm sorry," you tack on the last part, the words familiar on your tongue.

Your eyes go slightly wide when his hand comes up to direct your chin back up to meet his gaze, his eyes almost sparkling in the deep purple lights hung in this room. "No. None of that."

Your mouth is as dry as a desert.

But something else certainly isn't.

"How do you know Valeria?" You ask, because, really, you can't keep your mouth shut, can you?

Rodolfo seems to think for a moment, his features highlighted by the lights. The bass of the music thrums in your chest, and you can feel it from where your feet hit the floor, all the way to your fingertips, where they sit on his chest.

"...She's an old friend," is his response, and you can tell that there's a lot of heavy lifting behind the 'friend' title.

You nod, however, appeased with the answer. At least for now.

"You're not aware of her work?" He asks, wincing slightly at the last word. He's a solid weight at your front, oddly comforting for a man you had met not even five minutes ago, and who is clearly not in a white-collar kind of career path.

"No, um, not really my business," you say, deflecting.

A crease forms between his brows, and the swaying slows down. The two of you are surrounded at all sides, and it's hard to think, let alone breathe.

He's about to open his mouth to continue, when a sharp bark of his name makes his gaze instantly flick from you, to the other side of the room.

"Nosotros vamos [We're going]," The voice from before calls out -- Alejandro's voice. Rodolfo's arm at your waist tightens, if only slightly.

His gaze flickers back to yours, something swirling in their depths. Something that has your thighs squeezing just a bit together. You are so unbelievably parched -- from physical or mental thirst, you're not sure.

"Come with me," he says, voice lilted with an undercurrent of lust and desire. "Por favor, mi niña [please, my girl]."

Valeria had said to have fun, hadn't she? And you hadn't gotten all dressed up just to not get laid tonight, right?

So, like the 'new you' you are, you nod your head.

Rodolfo's returning smile is nothing short of vivaciously wicked, and tingles shoot up your spine as his hand rests heavy on your hip as he guides you out of the thick stream of people.

When your eyes meet Alejandro's, and you're standing mere feet in front of him, the man's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He directs a look to Rodolfo, and although you can't see the man's expression, you can tell that they're silently communicating.

Whatever the conclusion to their voiceless debate, it seems to weigh in your favour.

a/n. a teaser for the midnights series!! i have not forgotten about my plans for this one folks. taylor swift did infact intend for the album to be used as titles and vibes for call of duty fanfiction, in case u didnt know!

[porcelainseashore]

Ghosts from the Past (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: This fic takes place after Part 1 Teenage Headache Dreams so feel free to give that a read first. Note that I might get a little creative with RE lore and chapter updates could be longer than before, so please bear with me. Thank you to all those who gave feedback and followed me on this journey so far! 🫶

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: The Invitation

7 years.

7 years since you last saw him. 

But he hasn’t stopped haunting you.

You were stumbling your way through the sweaty crowd in one of the nightclubs you usually patronized. The thumping electronic beats resounded in your ears, as throngs of people writhed and shook to the music, raising their open palmed hands towards the DJ, like they were praying to some demigod. The room was bathed in a swathe of dark red light, and you were parting it like a sea of blood.

Dark kohl liner accentuated your eyes and your lips were the color of bruised plum, smudged slightly due to the humidity of the place. Your body was slick with perspiration, glittering under the lights, and it was barely covered by pieces of lace and a leather harness. A random guy pulled up next to you, whispering lewd nothings in your ear as you shoved him aside nonchalantly.

You were drugged up, high out of your mind, but everyone else was anyway, so why did you even care? Something instinctual told you to get to the middle, no matter what. So here you were, pushing your way through unapologetically, like you were on some unspoken mission.

And there he was. In the center. Blonde hair, blue eyes, t-shirt and jeans, just like you remembered him, as if time had not passed at all. As if it was only yesterday.

He stared at you intensely, wearing a scowl on his face, unspeaking. You noticed how tired he looked, like he just wanted to end it right there and then. So tired.

Maybe it was like those indigenous myths you had read about in class when you were young. The saying was that if one faces death, death has no choice but to grant them a final dance. Were you now in the shoes of death, frozen to the spot, watching him so he could cross over to the other side? Except, he wasn’t dancing. He remained there, completely still, eyeing you emotionlessly.

“Leon…” you mouthed, as your voice was drowned out by the blaring sound system.

The next moment, he disappeared into thin air like a shadowed specter, a faded memory of what you once had. 

Suddenly, everything around you erupted in flames, the bright light dazzling you and the scorching heat against your skin causing you to shrink away in fear. Your lungs felt like they were suffocating as you coughed vehemently due to the thick smoke that enveloped you. What the hell was all of this?

As you attempted to make a run for the exit, you noticed piles of bloodied-up bodies lying on the floor, surrounding you in a tight circle. Tripping over them, your eyes widened in shock as you began to recognize who they belonged to. There lay your parents, Leon’s parents, Kayla and the rest of the cheerleaders… the count went on as you frantically tried to shuffle yourself backwards, away from the source of terror, until you heard a deafening screech tearing through your eardrums.

BRRRNNGGG!!!

The sound of your alarm clock jolted you from your sleep. Hitting the ‘off’ button in response, you cursed out loud as your body shuddered uncontrollably. Your blanket and sheets were wet and clammy with puddles of your sweat. Trying to calm yourself, you took a quick gulp of water from the glass sitting on your bedside table and started to slow your breathing down.

Why were these dreams getting more and more frequent? You’d see Leon each time and then everything would turn to shit. There was just so much carnage and destruction back there, it nearly felt real.

You turned accusingly towards the framed photo of you and Leon back when you had posed together for your college graduation, still standing upright on your bedside table. Gripping it tightly till your knuckles were white, you opened one of the table drawers and chucked it inside, watching it clatter into the darkness as you shut the drawer back roughly.

Fuck, Leon! Why? You cried out internally, begging him to stop with the nightmares. Cradling your head in your hands, you broke out into sobs, whilst at the same time chiding yourself for not moving on from him all these years.

Bzzzt bzzzt. The burner phone on your desk interrupted your thoughts abruptly.

You sighed, picking yourself up from the bed and groggily trudging towards it. Flipping the phone open, you were greeted by yet another cryptic text from your handler.

The Chancery. Cocktail event. Tonight 7pm.

Right. Not like she would give you any more information on what this was about. As an informant, you were on a need-to-know basis and had to be happy with whatever scraps you got.

Your mind took a trip down memory lane of how you even landed in such a position in the first place. Ever since that fateful day where you decided to leave and never turn back, you used up whatever savings you had and ran all the way from the Midwest of America to the capital of Germany. There, you naturally fell into the arms of the renowned Silje Völker dance company, who had welcomed you so warmly you even forgot about her peculiar, icy demeanor back when she had scouted you from the dance showcase.

You thought moving to another country and making a new life there would help ease the pain of losing Leon, but you were wrong. Still, it couldn’t be worse than remaining in the place where the catastrophe happened and everything reminded you of him.

Then, about a year ago, some men in black suits handed you their card, reaching out with a proposition. Work for the US government as an informant. We need people like you, they said. There was something fishy going on with Silje, a wealthy, eccentric heiress, and artistic director of the dance company you were part of. She even owned the theater where your training and performances were conducted, and that venue was now under suspicion. As you had worked your way up to become one of her principal dancers, you were now in a prime position to gather the information they needed.

They were just so convincing. It reminded you of what Leon had said when he was younger. About wanting to protect the innocent and make a difference in the world. With that, you didn’t even think; you just said yes. 

Yes. To honor the memory of the boy you loved. Yes. If only you could have just said that one word to him, and to whatever he wanted. Yes.

So now you sought to betray the woman whom you saw as your surrogate mother. Your mother who had helped you find your way in a foreign country, where you were all alone, afraid and distraught. The one who nurtured you into the woman you were standing here today - bold, cunning and adaptable. It felt like life was playing a cruel trick on you. One you could not win.

After rushing through your daily routine, you gathered your things, slipping off an elegant, black cocktail dress from your hanger and stuffing it into your day bag, before heading out to the theater where you normally spent your waking hours training.

You greeted Silje, or Frau Völker - as she preferred to be called by the other dancers, except you and a select few - on the way in. Silje was a tall and wiry lady, with an aristocratic air about her. She consistently wore her platinum white hair in a tight bun, which pulled tautly against the skin along her jawline. For as long as you’ve known her, she never once took off her pitch black sunglasses, whether outdoors or indoors. Her dull-colored clothes covered her arms and legs fully and expensive leather gloves lined her hands at all times. Despite her fragile figure, she commanded authority and projected an intimidating presence.

As you entered the dance studio, she stopped you, gesturing to the dress peeking out of your bag. “Going somewhere special tonight?” 

Nothing could remain hidden from her astute gaze for long.

“Oh, just an international exchange at the embassy,” you lied through a perfect smile.

“How patriotic,” she crooned. You had gotten used to her dark humor and sarcasm by now, so you didn’t pay much attention to it as you shrugged in response.

“Well, enough chit-chat. We have a lot of work to do.” She clapped her hands twice to raise the awareness of the rest of the dance company. “Let’s go through the second part of the Rite, shall we?”

“You-” She pointed a bony finger in your direction. “Need to make those jumps lighter.”

You nodded, acknowledging her criticism that she dished out to you in front of everyone.

“Be in the air, not tied to the ground, my dear.” 

As she flashed over a wide, toothy grin, for a split second you were sure that you saw razor sharp fangs emerging from them. However, they were gone the moment you looked back again.

━━━━━━━━━━━

That evening, you exited out of Friedrichstraße station, one of the main shopping districts in central Berlin. The bustling streets were brightly lit against the darkening sky, as you darted in and out of the swarm of human traffic to get to the embassy. Your heels clacked along the pavement as you made a right, hurrying towards a closed off street, which was heavily fortified with barriers and fencing. 

From afar, you could make out the five-storey, gabled building with beige stone slabs, and the American flag hanging over its front entrance. One of the guards checked in with you, jotting down some notes against your name on his clipboard as he ushered you indoors. 

Dropping off your winter coat and day bag at the makeshift cloakroom, you slipped a couple of spare coins into the tip jar and headed up to the function room. Lively chatter and background music spilled out from its open doors into the corridor you were in. 

You checked yourself anxiously in a reflective surface nearby to make any last minute adjustments. Since your handler hadn’t revealed much of why you had been requested, you wanted to make sure you looked the part and fit in, in case you needed to do some sweet talking with, what you might guess, the elite members of society.

Your hands were trembling ever so slightly as you smoothened out imaginary creases in your shimmery, black satin dress which clung snugly to your body, emphasizing your curves. It had a low, backless design that teased just the right amount of bare skin without raising a scandal. Despite that, you were still debating whether it was too little or too much. In fact, the length of the dress reached so close to the floor, it was a wonder you hadn’t had an accident while walking around in it yet. Maybe you should alter the hem of it in the near future.

The sound of the hallway clock chiming at 7 sharp disrupted your inner monologue, as you realized you should adhere to your punctuality. Making the final touches to your loose, tousled bun and swabbing your lips with a light layer of rouge stain, you finally broke away and entered the function room.

Drinks and canapés lined the long, white banquet tables to the side, while men in snazzy suits and women in fine threads gathered around in their cliques, conversing with each other. It felt like you had gone back in time and were thrown into some 70s gala party, where you didn’t know a single soul. 

A waiter stopped in front of you carrying a tray of bubbly champagne in tall flute glasses. “Madame?” He offered you one from his delicate hand.

You nodded gratefully, taking it before situating yourself at a corner of the room, sipping your drink slowly. Glancing at your watch, you observed that 15 minutes had passed since the supposed meeting time of 7pm. Scanning the room proved fruitless as you didn’t find anything of note.

Where was your handler, Bergmann? What was this party for? You wondered.

At some point, you felt a shadow loom over you from your left shoulder, but you didn’t have a chance to react until it spoke.

“Talk about seeing a ghost from the past.”

Your ears perked up at the voice that you would recognize anywhere, except it sounded deeper and gruffer this time.

No, it couldn’t be… 

Alarm bells started to ring in your head, as you tried to convince yourself that this was one of your nightmares again. Maybe you had fallen asleep on the U-Bahn and now you were lucid dreaming. 

You pinched your arm, not daring to look in the direction of the source of the voice. This was just a dream. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna help.” 

Or not.

Your breath hitched as you turned sharply to your left, coming face-to-face with a pair of electric blue eyes set in a hollow stare, the dark circles under them giving away his fatigue. His chiseled face was marred by a cut he was nursing on his bottom lip, and his mop of blonde hair was almost like how you remembered it, but longer at the bangs and lighter in color as if it had been bleached in the sun. He was also suited up, black this time, but you could tell he had grown bulkier and more muscular underneath.

How was this possible? What was going on?

You couldn’t even begin to comprehend the scene in front of you, as everything around the room began to spin and your vision blurred. There was the sound of a glass breaking, and the last thing you were conscious of was a strong set of arms wrapping around you, followed by a yell, “Give her some air!”

Then darkness came to claim you.

━━━━━━━━━━━

There was something wet on your face and what felt like a cold breeze, causing a shiver to run through your spine. Then, you sensed a light tapping against your cheek.

“Hey, hey. Wake up.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you were met again with those vivid blue eyes. As you came to, you realized that you were out on one of the balconies, your head propped up by his suit jacket while you lay on the ground. 

He held out a glass of water in his hand. “Here.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows until you came into a sitting position, before taking it from him gingerly. Your body was still shaking as you drank from the glass and at this, he took his jacket and placed it over your shoulders to cover you.

“Thanks,” you managed weakly.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, while carefully helping you to your feet.

There was a moment of silence as both of you eyed each other without a word. However, it seemed as if he wasn’t surprised to see you, which was weird.

“Leon,” you stuttered. “How-”

The balcony door slid open.

“Ah, there you are!” A young man with a communication earpiece, whom you assumed was one of the staff members, called out.

He glanced between the two of you knowingly. “I see you’ve gotten acquainted.”

“Bergmann will see you now.” He signaled towards the elevators past the crowd.

Leon gave him a quick nod. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered in your ear as you followed the man leading you towards the top floor of the building.

Passing by an unassuming door on the fifth level, he rapped it thrice and you heard the distinct tone of Bergmann informing you to come in. He pushed the door and held it open for both of you before he left.

A woman in her late 40s with curly, auburn ringlets and donning a light gray pantsuit greeted you and Leon.

“Kirsten Bergmann,” she introduced herself while shaking Leon’s hand.

“Leon Kennedy.”

“Of course,” she smirked. “USSTRATCOM’s golden boy.”

You were confused, but started to piece together bits of the conversation. Leon had been alive and working for the government this whole time?

“So you’ve met my informant.” Bergmann motioned at you. “She seems to have a flair for making a spectacle of herself recently.” She frowned disapprovingly, referring to the incident that happened earlier that evening. 

You bowed your head in embarrassment, but Leon appeared completely indifferent.

“Anyway, Hunnigan will be joining us on comms shortly.”

With that, she turned to one of the screens in the room which had been switched on and was showing a connecting symbol. A few seconds later, a bespectacled lady with her hair neatly tied back appeared on it.

“Hunnigan here. Shall we get to it?”

Bergmann took the lead on the discussion. 

“My informant will be an invaluable asset to Agent Kennedy’s mission. She has nestled herself deep within the target company and gained the trust of Ms Silje Völker, who has started to, on her own accord, disclose further information in confidentiality to my informant. All the intel has been fed back to HQ.”

Pressing a button, Bergmann brought up a blueprint map of the theater on another screen, except this had additional markings on it in your own handwriting.

“As you can see, exploration of the target site has shown multiple hidden passageways, false doors and even additional depths absent in the original plans. A copy of this has already been forwarded to all of you.”

This time, Bergmann turned to face you, folding her arms as she continued.

“In addition, my informant has secured various key connections that will prove the validity of our findings and help Agent Kennedy gain a foothold on getting access into the target site easily.”

“We are certain this is the base of operations,” she added, almost triumphantly. 

“And I shouldn’t have to remind you how this case needs to be handled with the utmost discretion,” she warned, gazing strictly at Leon and Hunnigan. 

“We have to ensure that US-German relations remain solid and the last thing we want is for this thing to blow up in the public. Much less in the capital.”

“Understood,” came Hunnigan’s unwavering reply. “I’m sure Leon will be able to manage that.”

“Perfect,” Bergmann replied, looking rather satisfied with herself. “My informant will work closely with you on this. There are sights to see, people to meet, and she will accompany you-”

“With all due respect, I don’t need a babysitter.” Leon suddenly piped up from the middle of the room.

You watched in astonishment, your jaw falling ajar, as he insulted you in front of your colleagues. His harsh words stung you inside. It seemed as if he hated you, and wanted nothing to do with you. But why?

“I am more than capable of finishing this myself,” he continued firmly.

Bergmann’s brows furrowed and her nostrils flared, as she looked at Leon like she was about to reprimand a child. “I assure you, she-”

“Take her off the case,” he demanded.

“Agent Kennedy!” Bergmann raised her voice. “That’s not your decision to make.”

From the intercoms, Hunnigan concurred, “I’m sorry, Leon. It’s been endorsed by the higher ups.”

“This is fucking bullshit.” He smacked his hand on a nearby table in defeat.

A tiny smile appeared on Bergmann’s face and you knew she had a trick up her sleeve. “Besides, Agent, how good is your German?”

He glared at her pointedly. “Good enough.”

She laughed mockingly and proceeded to speak with him in German, using a mixture of complex and colloquial sentences, which you noted that Leon was having a fair amount of difficulty processing. Then she turned to you, indicating that you should answer, and you complied with her order obediently.

“She’s fluent, even passable as a native.” Bergmann remarked smugly. “You, on the other hand, won’t last a day with that grasp of the language.”

Leon didn’t respond, but instead resorted to shooting daggers at her.

“Well, now that part’s over and done with, let’s move on to the logistics.” Bergmann stated simply, as if the previous altercation had never occurred.

She pushed forward, briefing you and Leon on the capacity in which you two should work together, how to approach comms, backstories and the like, including the next steps required in the task ahead.

At the end, she requested you to step outside and wait for Leon on the ground floor, as she relayed further details to him that you were not privy to. You had grown accustomed to this sort of treatment, even if you didn’t like secrets being withheld from you. So you waited patiently on one of those stiff, high-back wooden chairs in the lobby, for the man you thought had been a ghost all this while to find you.

How did he survive? Why didn’t he say anything? Was he still upset about the past? Is that why he had treated you with such venom at the meeting? You had a million questions running through your head. Nothing made sense. Maybe the only reason why you weren’t having a mental breakdown at the moment was because you knew you had a job to do.

“Something on your mind?”

You whipped around, startled by the unexpected intrusion. It was Leon, regarding you with curiosity despite the constant scowl on his face.

You sighed, catching your breath and lowering your hands that had been clutched at your chest. “Wanna start talking?”

“Not here,” he replied. “Somewhere less open.” He glanced around before adding, “More rowdy.”

You nodded, understanding that he wanted a place without prying ears. “There’s a grimy bar that’s always packed to the brim in Neukölln. No one will give a shit there.”

He scoffed. “Sounds like my type of bar.”

Pointing at his attire, you commented, “You gotta get out of that suit though. Not unless you want to attract some attention.”

He leaned against the wall, allowing his bangs to fall over his eyes as he folded his arms and smirked at you. “Suits me.”

[silverinkbottle]

Cover me in flowers..or glitter?

Summary: What's an Overlord to do after dealing with a shitty day of downed networks. Come home and bitch about it of course.

Word Count:4.5K

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Velvette x F!Sphynx!Reader

Warnings: Sexual content ahead. Female oral sex. Foul language (it's Velvette, I got to) references to drug use and self harm. 18+ only!

A/N:Hello dearest readers! Here is the promised Velvette x Reader fic I managed to spin for yall. It was extremely fun to dive into the more 'true' side of Velvette as we have seen during her private moments with the other Vees. Taking off the 'mask' as #THATBITCH. Is it too soft? Maybe? But all the same, enjoy!

Side Note: My REQUESTS are open and I am determined to tackle each of the colorful Hazbin cast in some form. It can be X Reader or not! Let me see what I can spin up! enjoy!

Hell was a fucked up place. Like watching your neighbor get devoured by a roving pack of cannibals sort of daily occurrence. Murder and mayhem went hand in hand. Yet, somehow that rush of adrenaline was preferred to your current situation. Buried under a mound of blankets, winter clothes and anything else to make a nest in as you sulked in the depths of fabric. Spoiled, you had gotten spoiled since Velvette took you in. A thin little stray that happened to fall into the satin lap of luxury. All because you intrigued the Overlord one day. Your powers wreaking havoc on Vox’s spy network of technology as you blipped in and out of existence. However, that talent came with certain limitations rapidly draining your energy if you stepped ‘out’ for too long. It wasn’t long before you had been cornered by an irate Vox and a few select underlings, the technomancer screeching about a raging headache over the phone.

Vox wanted your head, Valentino wanted your body to break on camera and Velvette, well she found you fascinating. Cameras flashed in your face as soon she met you, provoking the question on social media. Who was Hell’s Cheshire? A thief, a backstabber and all other lovely connotations. Eventually, the youngest Overlord settled on something else entirely, a useful tool for her arsenal of networks. Able to slip in and out unnoticed if you chose so and entirely willing to come at the ring of bell.  Most of the time.

Your phone had been buzzing non stop since Hell went back online after Vox’s tantrum. You couldn’t imagine the headache that Velvette had to sort out for hours after.  Patching up rumors and demolishing negative news with a flick of her fingers.  It was fascinating watching her work from home as data zipped across the screen in a dazzling display of lights. Pushing trends for Voxtek, doxxing competition with scathing inbox drops and above all keeping her own social media red hot. Your distaste for that particular task was evident as you dodged the socialite’s flashing phone at all hours. The Overlord’s photo album was like a riddle of segmented body parts. A flash of your stomach getting inked with a fresh bloom of daisies, followed by a blurred hand reaching out to take the offending object.

There was a quiet ding of the penthouse elevator as the pile of clothes shifted an inch with your movement.  Moving a scarf out of the way, you now had the perfect vantage to see Velvette streaming as soon as she left the elevator with a bright smile. 

“Apologies about the little system update to the electrical grid lovelies. As you can see we are now back online!  Please reset your Voxbox if further problems continue. We here at Voxtek hope to continue providing our best quality service.” Her voice was sugary sweet as your ears flicked waiting to hear the break in her act.

Five.

The small melodic beep as the stream ended.

Four.

The defiant click of the phone shutting.

Three.

A sigh.

Two.

The smallest click of heels against the floor as Velvette walked towards the couch.

One.

The delightful stream of profanity that was screamed into a pillow. 

“THAT MOTHER FUCKING TWAT GOT HIS KNICKERS IN A TWIST ALL BECAUSE OF THE OLD FUCK BEING BACK. KNOCKED OUT THE SYSTEMS AND HIMSELF FOR THREE HOURS. DOES HE HAVE ANY IDEA HOW I HAD TO MANAGE THAT MESS” Velvette’s yowl bounced around the penthouse as you could almost see the steam coming off her head.

“Babes, are you listening to ME!” Velvette shrieked at your cloth fortress of solitude as you reached your hand out in a supportive thumbs up. It wasn’t enough as you hear the distinct sound of glass shattering as something heavy had been launched at the elevator’s glass door. It dinged in submission as Velvette let out another shriek of rage. 

Now was the time to intervene before she grabbed another object to destroy as you hastily shot your hand out to grab her by the wrist. Her expression twisted in surprise as she was pulled into your pillowy sanctuary. A low purr rumbled in your chest as her floral perfume curled around you. Her heartbeat thudded against you as your cat-like pupils dilated from the close contact as she heaved a heavy sigh before curling under your chin. Now an air of calm floated about the shelter as darkness and your rumbling purr enveloped the enclosed space.

“Hello, you. Seems like you had a hard day.” You muttered as Velvette exhaled through her teeth as if you couldn’t have chosen the most delicate word for it.  No, you knew from her more colorful vocabulary she had far more words to describe it. 

“And what did you do? Take cat-naps through the entire shitshow? Must have been nice.” Velvette said tartly as you lightly carted your sharp nails through her hair. You didn’t want to pick a fight, not if she was already so burnt out from the affairs of the day.

“I spent my time building this after the power went out. Can’t stand the cold you know.” You hummed. Velvette rolled her eyes as she knew better than most that you needed climate control to be comfortable. It was a myth that Hell was boiling inferno. Even if it was, your plane shifting seemed to keep an icy grip on your soul as if wanting to drag down with it instead of allowing you to leave.

“Oh, the poor lamb, what a hardship.” Velvette’s words would have cut through the hardiest of steel, but for you, the dripping sarcasm rolled off your back with a nonchalant shrug. You did hiss in protest as she cruelly kicked off a stabilizing pillow from the stack.  It all came down in a slow tumble as your arms curled around Velvette who let out a protesting whine. She was taking away your source of heat, she better be willing to provide her body heat as a compromise.

“You’re hopeless. You know that.” Velvette muttered as a faint smile ticked over your features. What happened to that wry stray Demon that evaded the Vees for months. Forcing them to ‘old’ and ‘outdated’ methods of tracking in person. All because your talent piqued their interest. 

“Hm. I wouldn’t say that. I managed to keep you here.” You muttered as Velvette’s lips met yours. Gentle, soft, a silent reprieve from the madness of the world outside. Pain flicked from your ears as her fingers prodded the latest piercing at the tip of the pale ear. The cat-like features were a delicious irony from your death. Drowned in a sack like a litter of unwanted kittens. All because you had owed a drug dealer a bit too much, well, stole, thumbed the cops at him. Nasty business it was as it took months for you not to flinch at the sound of running water.

Unfortunately, keeping up your hygiene is more important compared to other demons. Your skin itches like it was swarmed by mosquitoes if you let the practice get away from you. A fucking Sphynx’s skin accompanied a bare tail and fuzzed ears. If it weren’t for the benefits of your stealth, you would have gone mad a long time ago. Much to Velvette’s fashion distaste, you preferred full body coverage of sweaters, dress suits and the like. Anything to keep your sensitive skin from the outside world. 

“Testing a new experiment again? Velvette questioned as your pierced ear flicked irritated as her sharp nail ran over the reddened skin. A low hum answered her question as you gently redirected her probing hands to the edge of your sweater. Her gentle smile turned a tick towards feral as her hands slipped under the fabric, nails dragging over the sensitive skin of your stomach. It was almost a sheer reflex as your back arched underneath her touch, a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure at her touch.

“Off. I want to see.” Velvette barked as her impatient hands pulled at the fabric, easing it over your head with a single pull. Your body was a canvas for ink from piercing black to bursts of bright colors. Inky flowers planted in your fleshy parchment as Velvette’s eyes flicked over older works, trying to find the newest flower in the garden.  A small singular tulip curled around your third right rib as her nail tapped it as you confirmed with a nod at her guess.

“Seems like a bit too purple, babes.” Velvette critiqued as a sigh escaped you.  It had been far too long since either of you had seen the thing, but of course she remembered them as a dull little thing. 

“If you insist, mistress of gardens.” You retorted with a grin. Velvette soon collapsed into a fit of giggles as you and her had shared plenty of woes about your pasts. Neither of you could grow anything green worth shit. All it took was a single glance for the flourishing flower to turn brittle and lifeless the next day.  While you seemed to be overwatering or underwatering, memory turned into mush as soon as you got your fix. 

Now in your afterlife, only the tattoo artist’s needle plucked away at your skin. Contaminating the sensitive pigment in an array of colors. It did seem to help or was it merely a placebo effect. Regardless, it was an interesting pastime to have as Velvette was more than willing to start off sketches or chime in about color patterns. What would you do after the canvas was full? Well, there was more than one way to skin a cat. The regenerative properties of Sinners were infamous after all. 

“I know that look. We aren’t trying that yet.” Velvette protested as she jabbed a pointed nail into your cheek. A weary sigh escaped you as your past issues with your skin didn’t need to rear its head back into the quiet moment. The look of horror and shock on her face when she discovered you in the midst of flashback, sharp nails digging into the flesh of your arm. Dragging it down to tear through skin and muscle. Pain grounded you, you weren’t stuck in that bag, lungs bursting, wanting one more gasp of air that never came.

“I am sure one of the geniuses at Voxtek would be able to figure out some sort of anesthesia process” You proposed as Velvette’s smile flickered to a frown. Right, work was a touchy subject as you cupped her pouting cheeks with a gentle kiss to her forehead. Your tail elegantly twisting out her reach as you stood up from the couch, leaving her sulking against the cushions with a huff.

“I’ll run us a bath? We can use one of those glittery bath bomb monstrosities you insisted on buying last week.” You proposed as you turned the corner into the master bedroom, rolling your eyes at the loud squeal of joy that echoed after you. Double oak doors lead to the grand bathroom as numerous skin care products littered both sides of the countertop. Serums, lotions and the like, your nose wrinkled as something lilac had been spilled earlier in the morning. 

It was sheer reflex for you to suck in air through your teeth as you turned the brass knobs on the jacuzzi-like tube. At least your hands shook less as you eased off your sweater. Your tail swished in warning as you heard the faintest click of the camera. Velvette and her fucking photos as you held out your hand in a silent request. 

“It isn’t a bad shot, Lette. “ You praised as she smugly smiled at your approval. The cream background of the bathroom title, stark green of sweater and the pale gray of your skin. All drew the viewer's eye to the bramble of crimson roses and sharp thorns encircling your upper back. From brambles, pale forget-me-nots caressed the side of your breast, tiny yellow pea flowers branching off downward. Most importantly, your face was covered by the fabric of the sweater being pulled over your back. You liked to keep what privacy you could when it came to living with the social media Overlord. 

“I did threaten to sew Valentino’s mouth shut after that comment he left last time.”

“Oh, aren't you sweet.” You cooed as her jealous streak ran as deep as the river Styx. She got to post you in all states of dishevelment with your approval. It sent gossipers into a frenzy trying to deduce who the Overlord’s lover was. All while Velvette dropped several keywords into each post about this product or that. Sex sold afterall, it was something she and the pimp moth agreed upon. 

“He did speak to me about copycat videos though. Just to stir up a little tizzy with the clientele.” Velvette yawned as you rolled your eyes at the notion. Tattoos were unique from each stroke and you paid your artist an extraordinary privacy fee to keep the designs private. Now, it would be amusing to see Velvette pitch a fit in the pimp’s private studio as she critiqued each little ‘paint job’ on the copycats. Did Valentino want to make you look like a cheap fucking whore. Velvette wouldn’t let that stand as expenses and delays piled up around theoretical productions that made the moth demon’s head spin. 

“Oh, now that is just cruel, love.” You teased as Velvette smiled wickedly before rummaging in one of the lower cabinets beneath the sink. Clapping her hands together as she presented her find as your ears went flat in displeasure. Oh, it was going to be a glittery mess as she ‘accidentally’ dropped the orb into the warm water. 

“You know I would be running for the hills if it was any other day.” You grumbled as she flashed you a bright grin before reaching for the button of your slacks. Carefully stepping out the attire, you skittishly kept out of reach of her groping hands. 

“Yes, I touched up my thighs. You don’t need to guess that.” You scoffed as Velvette’s gaze flickered over the pristine white petals of the moon flower. It’s dark vines crawling up your upper thighs as its flowering bud bloomed over your navel. Right above the soft curls of your sex. 

“So, I don’t get to touch it?” Velvette pouted softly

“Not with your kit on, I don’t need another lecture on what water and other fluids can do to the material.” You tutted as you spun your finger around in a silent suggestion for her to turn around. Buttons, so many fucking buttons started from her tailbone to the back of her neck as you diligently undid the snaps with practiced patience. There wasn’t a need to rush as you could see goosebumps prickle down tanned skin as a single finger brushed over her spine. 

“Oh fuck this-”

“Lette, don’t you dar-”

Your warning was an absolute failure as her arms curled around your waist, sending both of you tumbling into the vast bath. Your eyes turned into thin slits as you emerged from the water, trying to keep your breathing at slow and even pace. The gentle ripple of water as your tail lashed about with irritation as Velvette leaned comfortably against the ramp-like edge of the bath. 

“Oh, you look like some sort of garden fairy, Babes, very aesthetic.” Velvette cooed as you glanced down at your soaked form. Glitter, so much fucking glitter stuck to your tattoos, your hair, and you didn’t dare ask where else it clung to.

“I hate it. I am throwing out all those damn bath bombs as soon as your back is turned.” You threatened as Velvette scoffed at the seriousness of your tone. Her finger crooked asking you to come closer as you did with a huff.   

“This is going to take forever to get off.” You hissed as Velvette’s body gleamed with the fragments of glitter. Your thumb gently rubbing over her lower lip as the sparkle refused to give way to the gentle pressure. 

“So, you better get to work then.” Velvette teased as she leaned further back against the cool surface, her eyes dilating as your fingers ran over a dusky nipple. Pretty little things, round and firm, but no larger than the center of your palm. The softest cooing sound slipped from her lips as the rough surface of your tongue dragged over the center of her left breast. For what felt like the hundredth time in a row, the tantalizing idea of little glimmering bar bells drifted lazily through your mind. 

“You know. It would amplify-”

“It would limit my looks, babes. No. Once again. Ah fuck, do that swirling thing again.” Velvette’s protest shifted into a whine as your tongue twisted against her pert nipple. Her legs all but curled around your wet and glittery form as if it would bring you any closer. You could feel her heartbeat thud under your finger twists as it stuttered when your sharp canines dragged over the edge of her breast. Her plait form softened with each touch as the stress of the day melted away from her.

This was your Velvette. Brash, crude with an unbreakable will of steel, but at the same time, she all but melted under your attention. Until you chipped away at the sharp exterior to reveal the quiet creature beneath the rampant demands of her work. Her lips parting as her tongue curled over your fingertips. Goosebumps curled over her form as the cool saliva traced down her stomach, brushing aside the little fluff of curls as her legs twitched from the first contact with her clit.

“I can be extraordinarily convincing.” You muttered against her lips as you kissed into her smirk. Her mouth opened in a quiet pant as friction dragged over her clit. Slow measured strokes as you wanted to draw her out like a taut string. At least at first before you sent her galloping over the edge as her fingers dragged through your scalp when your toying flickered counterclockwise.

“Don’t do that.” Velvette hissed as you winked cheekily before reverting back to the same pattern. Of all things, she liked your touch in a consistent motion as she could feel each bump in her road to the ultimate goal. 

“Hey, no, wait-” Velvette let out a small yelp of protest as you slid her further back onto the edge of the tub. A mere inch away from falling as her legs spread further apart trying to brace herself on the inside of the tub. You brushed against her cunt’s curl as cat-like eyes blinked lazily up at her. A silent request that was answered as her hand slid over the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

The little bundle of nerves felt like something different every time. The little ridges engorging in an endless unrecognizable pattern as your tongue swiped against it. Your own excitement rising as Velvette’s sharp nails felt prickly against your sensitive neck. Her delighted cry when your attention shifted a little to the left, the scent of her fluids lingered on your face as her orgasm built. The involuntary shudder of her thighs around your face as your hand slid up her stomach feeling it snap back and forth like a bow string. 

“Close, close, close-” Velvette’s words turned into a quiet chant as her voice reached a new octave as your lips sealed around the throbbing nerves. The harsher pressure was all that was needed to topple the last bit of restraint as her insides burst with white hot heat. Your tongue brushed over her core to taste the almost sweet nectar as she weakly tried to protest with a wave of her hand.

Oh, she was out of it as her legs went flat against the tub. Her hormone flooded mind , breaking the chain of command to her muscles as she let out the smallest of cries as gravity took over.  You could only watch in surprise as she fell backwards out of the bath, head first as her crumpled form shuddered with surprised giggles.

“Shit, sorry, I-” Your apology was cut off by her sweet kiss, her perfumed hair falling in your face as she deepened the kiss. All it took was the smallest shove like a stalk in the breeze to allow her to crawl into your lap. Glitter be damned, nothing could interrupt the moment as wet skin felt like silk against you.

All except the telltale chirping of Velvette’s phone as it obviously sang out it’s little song.

“Fuck, don’t-” You protested as Velvette scrambled off you with a new sense of urgency. Her shining backside dripped water as she clawed at a towel with exasperation upon seeing the caller id on the glowing screen.  The telltale jabs of her fingers as she typed a scathing text, only for a chirp to follow moments later.

“MOTHERFUCKER, NOW. HE WANTS-” 

“Bath is over, I am guessing.” You deadpanned as Velvette’s agitated expression flickered like a dancing flame as you swept past her with a single kiss on her pouting cheek. Despite your clothing restrictions, somehow your closet always seemed close to bursting as you idly ran your fingers over the dark blue cloth of a suit. Freezing as damp hands slid along your waist, Velvette’s lips gentle against the back of your neck in a silent apology.

“It happens Lette, I get it.” You hummed as you could her lips twitch from a pout to a smile against your skin. 

“A tie is a must, babes. How about that red one?” She proposed as she waved you aside to do what she did best. Making you absolutely stunning for the entire Pride ring to fry their brains over and then some cells for good measure. Her fingers were gentle as she smoothed out the collar of your blouse before buttoning the suit jacket with a satisfied pat.

“Studs or small hoops, you think?” You asked as Velvette’s gaze blinked up from her phone for a moment before holding up a single finger. The golden studs it was then as you knew there wasn’t going to be a word out of her until she returned to the office. The blue glow of the screen was impossible to ignore as you strained your neck to try and make sense of the rapid flicker of data. The strength of her taps increases with each swipe and view as her left cheek twitches in silent irritation.

It wasn’t at your conspicuous spying, no it was about the absolutely shoddy camera work of the source. Like it was filmed on a flip phone for Hell’s sake as you could make out the barest minimum of details in the footage. A massive red building, hazy smoke and something else that flickered like disjointed images.

“Was..that a wall?” 

“Yes.”

“And what the fuck is zipping across the screen like sooty tumbleweeds.”

“A fucking headache. That’s what.” Velvette growled as the ride to the office remained quiet after that. Your polished Oxford’s tip brushing comfortingly over her bare ankle as the motor of the limo broke through the small clicks of the keyboard. Oh, she was pissed as you couldn’t help but count the beat of her heels on the floor as she threw open the conference doors.

“NOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. I WAS DOING THINGS.” Velvette demanded as you leaned against the door as a silent shadow. The coffee cup near Vox threatened to topple over when Velvette’s fist struck the table as her answers didn’t come as fast as the texts she sent.

“Don’t get yourself all worked up, babydoll. Seems like those things are willing to wait.” Valentino grinned as you could all but feel his scrutinizing gaze see through you like you weren’t dressed in a three piece suit, undershirt and another camisole for good measure. Or was it the flickering sheen of glitter on your throat. Its’ sparkle defiantly pierces the dark seeds of the sunflower’s center, its pale yellow petals dragging over your jugular.

“Not important.” Velvette snapped as Valentino chuckled through an exhale of smoke as he gestured the cigarette holder towards Vox who’s fingers steepled together with a twitch of impatience.

“So, as you can guess, our little loser of a spy was caught out-”

“The fucking failure failing, call me shocked.” Velvette deadpanned as she waltzed in one of the free chairs, immediately placing her feet on the desk with a cool expression. Oh, she was pulling out all the stops to irritate Vox as you quickly hid your smile behind a cough.

“Yes. But we still need surveillance on that flophouse of a hotel. Fucking prick made it clear that he wasn’t going to let something on the inside in terms of video feed. Gave me a fucking headache when I tried to-”

“Yes, yes, we know the Radio Demon seems to have sixth sense for you. Aren’t you special?” Velvette jabbed as Vox’s expression shifted from neutral to stiffening irritation. Her painted nails clicked against the firm metal of the desk as her smirk crawled onto her features.

Waiting. She was waiting for the control freak’s nerves to settle. Before dragging the proverbial dagger over his heart as Vox fixed his perfectly straight type.

“We need-”

“Not the correct word, darling.” Velvette sang out as Valentino let out a dry chuckle as there was a glitch in Vox’s screen for a split second. She intended to make this as painful as possible as your ears twitched in anticipation.

“Please have her-” The first word was spat like acid as Vox’s screen twisted in your direction. Almost uncomfortably slow as you waggled your fingers at the compromising overlord.

“Observe the hotel from the streets while we come up with a better plan.” Vox growled as Velvette clapped her hands together in childish glee as if she were a spoiled child being given a new toy. 

“Done.” Velvette chirped as her arm craned up with her phone. Snapping a selfie of her, with the piercing red edge of your tie in the background. #Takeyourbabestoworkday #Voxtech #IWIN, the post hit the ground running as you approached the table, arm resting atop the chair with a casual posture.

“Not done.” You retorted

“But-”

“No more glitter bath bombs. Shit is sticking to my tongue like sand” You muttered as Velvette rolled her eyes but nodded all the same.

“Give me twenty-four hours then.” Your words came out like a slow haze as the cool sensation washed over your body. The first time it happened you thought you were dying again, but now it just felt like sinking into a cool bath. Within a blink of the eye, only the three Overlords remained.

“So, what exactly were you doing before this?” Valentino quiered with a lecherous grin as Velvette plucks a larger fragment of glitter from her hair with a scoff. 

If he could only imagine.

[yoke9494]

Me,U, Your brother, &Your Forehead.. (Ran Haitani/F.reader)

*Au-.. ish?

*FIRST TEASE REQUEST!! (Wattpad)

*Slight NSFW/ Cockblock Rindou.

*Drug use

*Crack on crack.

*Never proof read! Live dangerously!

-------------------------------------------

Living next to the Haitani's had its ups and downs.

Downs included: Waking up from a much needed nap or dead sleep to hear Rindou on his DJ set. He was good but honestly, not "Oh cool! We're partying at 3am?" good. Not really "I have a mad hangover but keep playing!" good..

Other times you'd hear a bunch of thuds and Ran yelling. Throwing a fit about not getting his way or throwing dudes around... Well you hoped it was dudes? Not some poor girl getting her guts liquidified.

Rip..

And don't get me started on all the sketchy shit they have going on in their house..

But they weren't all too bad you guessed. Sure they were loud, nosey, a little mean.

But the good part was..

"What are you doing outside? Looking all sad and shit."

You rolled your eyes at the sleepy purple ones staring you down. You had tried to hide from everyone. Curling up in the hammock in back of your house--  just to get some air, some time to think..

But somehow it was always Ran who sniffed you out... Especially when he wanted something.

Shrugging you let out a sigh. "Just sitting. What are you doing outside? Shouldn't you be asleep like always?"

Ran copied you. "Can't sleep." He eyed your slouched figure. Hunchback of Notre Dame looking ass, but he noticed you weren't in your usual homeless wear today-- you looked nice?.. Oh Right! "Hey, wait! I thought you had a date today? That one nerdy guy with the lame glasses?"

You knew who he was talking about and you fought the urge to throw something. "Ugh. A bust... Turns out guys who get good grades and act charming can be assholes too."

That was a shame... Ran had high hopes for that one. (Not really ) "Wanna come over and smoke? Rindou's out-- we can play in his room."

Tempting...

Though any other girl would take that sexually you knew better. Rindou had all the cool gadgets and shit in his space. He didn't let you or Ran touch ANYTHING since you both broke everything you laid your eyes on.

Fuck it..

"Sure."

----------------------

The thick smoke swirled around in the air, making pretty white sheer shapes. The pungent smell of weed seeped into every fiber and surface in Rindou's poor room.

Oops, guess you two forgot to open a window.

After the second joint was lit you and Ran couldn't focus on anything. Not Rins DJ set, not the video game console, not even his laptop that was playing some movie in a language you both didn't know.

Your body was light, your head quiet. All the stress of the day just melted away. Your eyes felt heavy and you were starving! It's a good thing you and Ran had a plate of Chicken between you... While you both laid on the floor.

How did you end up there with a plate of chicken? No fucking idea.. One of you must have fell or laid down. Then the other joined..

Where did the chicken come from? Hell if you knew.. And Ran didn't know either. When did he leave the room to make them? Did he buy it? Where was his wallet?

Ran didn't even remember getting up and making the snack-- did you? You should because you were standing right next to him..

Either way they were warm and the meat was juicy. The best fucking chicken you've had in you life! All crispy and shit..

"What was I saying?"

What? Was he talking? Oh shit-- you were too busy mouth fucking this chicken.

"Uh--"

Ran gasped. "Oh yeah! So yeah. I didn't hit it.."

Oh now you remember! He was trying to make you feel better about your failed date by telling you his.

You shook your head. "Why not? I mean, I don't clam slam myself but she's fucking hot! I'd try the chowder if it was her."

Ran snorted. "She had clitter glitter."

You made a face at the ceiling. "What now?"

Ran took a slow bit out of his chicken. With a full mouth. ".... toilet paper. There were pieces of toilet paper in her coochie down to the crack. It gave me the ick so I made an excuse to leave. Said Rindou was stuck in the dryer.. She actually bought it!"

The laugh you let out. it probably made the windows shake. "You're shitting me?!"

Ran smiled and shook his head no. The proudest look on his face that he actually pulled some shit like that off. "Nope. That girl has the body of a porn star but the brains of a jellyfish. I'd probably have to bubble wrap her if we ever got drunk or high together. I don't want to babysit."

You nodded like you understood what he was saying. No you weren't judging Ran's choice in girls, you really couldn't. Sure he liked girls who were basically walking fuck toys. But you were no better-- You liked guys who were well off academically. You sure as hell weren't.. But if you ever tried to have them partake in your lifestyle? You'd be babysitting too.

...Turns out you both sucked at picking them. They always turned out to be the same-- a waste of time

"Any whoodle toaster strudel-- Say something babe.... You being all quiet is making me paranoid."

Oh shit.. "My bad." You slowly opened your eyes. You hadn't really noticed that you closed them and started drifting off with a half eaten chicken wing in your hand.

You looked up at the ceiling..

Mean purple eyes stared back at you... It sent a shock of fear up your back and you gasped while trying to make the floor swallow you up to hide you from the evil one..

Ran twitched beside you. He was slowly falling asleep too. "What?!"

You saw a blur of blonde and teal. 'Just looking all mad this one..' "Uh...I think Rindou's home."

Ran hummed from his spot. "Oh shit. We should get out of here before he sees us."

You smiled while Rindou scoffed and nudged his brother with his foot. "What the fuck are you guys going in here?! Getting your greasy ass finger prints on my shit!"

Ran sat up. "Oh shit! Grab the children and run!"

Children? Did he mean the fuckin chicken?..

You watched Ran run out (more like stumble out) with the plate of chicken and only one braid still holding on. He yelled after you. "To my room bitch!"

You snorted at the sight. Then it hit you-- you looked at Rindou. "Did that 5 headed hoochie call me a BITCH?"

Rindou nodded but then pointed to the hall. "Out. Before I pop out your joints from their sockets."

You grumbled and rolled before getting up. You grabbed his hand and placed the half eaten wing in it. "For your troubles." Then walked (Ran--stumbled) out.

Rindou rolled his eyes and threw it in his trashcan. "What an idiot.."

-----------

When you walked into Ran's room he was waiting for you on his bed. The window was finally open and let in a cool breeze.

He clicked his tongue when you fell face first into his bed. If this mattress could talk.. There would probably be a few cum stains yelling. "Paapaaa." "Papaa Ran, hold me."

You would normally shoot up and go home to scrub yourself raw-- IF you were sober. But right now.. you were getting tired.

Ran cleared his throat. "So I was thinking--"

You cut him off. "Did it hurt?"

He pushed your head into his mattress a little deeper. But you could hear the smile in his words. "Shut up."

You snorted and motioned for him to go on with your hand.

He took a second but eventually spit it out. "Why don't we just date?"

"Huh?" You turned to see Ran in your bubble. You pushed his face away. "Act like your hairline Haitani and back up a couple inches."

Ran deadpanned. "I'm serious."

You laughed. "Hell no."

He seemed hurt. "Why not?"

You gave him a droll look. "Why not? Why NOT?! You're not boyfriend material Ran."

He held his hands over his heat. Fake ass.. "Ouch! I'm hurting. Kiss me to make it better."

...Oh.

You scoffed. "Damn it Ran! You're just horny. I'm going home."

He stopped you before you could even get up. "No. Seriously.. What's wrong with dating me? You know what you're getting into, you know I'm an asshole already. You already know what kind of person I am and the shit I'm into and I know what kind of person you are. It makes sense right?"

You scrunched up your nose. "That's the problem. We're too much alike. We'll probably fight everyday."

He shook his head and smiled. "So? At least we'll be able to mad fuck after. I last longer when I'm mad."

That was a joke.. he could go on for hours! *Snort*

You were about to tell him to fuck off.

"Just one kiss. If you feel nothing I won't bring it up again. I just wanna see."

It was probably just the weed talking. It couldn't have been that Ran secretly had a thing for you.. nooo. Not that.. It wasn't because he was fed up with watching you waste time on little pussies when he was right there. Just waiting for you to be his.. No it wasn't the weed that gave him enough confidence to do what he's been thinking about.

And it must be the weed that kept you on Ran's bed...

It's the weeds fault you didn't tell him "No." when he asked to kiss you again. And it was the weeds fault you kept on going.-- totally not the way you actually felt comfortable around Ran, and it's not like you found him kinda attractive either..

He was just a friend-- You were his friend--- You both were bad at lying. Couldn't even convince yourselves..

Your mind was buzzing. But so was your body.. and no. It wasn't a bad feeling.

The kiss was sweet and slow. The complete opposite of what you and Ran were really like. You both tried to hide it-- but again, you knew one another so why bother?!

+++++

Underwear was the only modestly you and Ran had on right now. You were pretty sure you ripped his shirt in two-- that's okay. Your bra was fucked too.

It's funny.. You both had gotten high and drunk together hundreds of times. You've hung out just for the hell of it, hell you even napped together sometimes! Why did you both wait so long to do this?

Your back arched when Ran's fingers curled deep inside you. His thumb drawing tight figure eights on your slippery clit.

Rindou was in the next room.. Poor guy-- Ran shut you with a sloppy kiss. Teeth clanking and tongues rolling. But in reality, he didn't want his little brother to hear the sounds that were only meant for him. He was the most greedy out of the two anyway.

Geez possessive already?

He couldn't help it. His dick was hard and up against your thigh. It hasn't even felt the squeeze of your soft walls yet and he was losing his mind. Should he be embarrassed of all the pre cum that soaked though his underwear and onto your skin? Probably-- but your pussy around his fingers made his brain slower than the weed ever could.

He let out a groan when your cunt began to flutter and grip at his fingers. Your thighs began to twitch and you nails dug into the skin of his arm and back before your tried to push him away.

He's heard stories... That's probably why he wanted you so bad but-- (That's what he told himself..)

His speed picked up and he pushed against that soft spot deep inside everytime he shoved his fingers in. He wanted to keep you quiet but found himself lost in the way you sounded.. The way his name came out, a tone of pleasure-- desperation, instead of annoyance.

He could get used to this..

You let out a pornographic like moans that he began to mock but quickly they became real and breathy just like yours.

Clear liquid began to gush out of you and Ran's never been so happy to have his mattress ruined.

He couldn't wait anymore. His cock was stiff and beginning to hurt. Your underwear was yanked off from the middle of your legs. His was already gone..

You felt a little shy while he spread you wider for him. He was just staring..

"What? I have clitter glitter too?"

He smiled. "You're glittering with something else. I don't really wanna waste it."

Before you could ask.

His face was between your thighs. Your fingers tangled in his hair. That braid that was hanging on for dear life gave up it's battle long ago. You hardly saw him with his hair down, but it was doing something to you..

Especially when he looked up and groaned into your pussy. Like he was a starved man and eating his very last meal all at the same time.

He finally came up for air. "Can I fuck you now?"

You shrugged. "Sure. I'm just here enjoying my time until you man up and shove it in."

Ran wanted to argue but he was getting desperate.( he wasn't going to tell you that.) But he did tell himself you were just as needy. Especially since you were quick to wrap your legs around him when he climb up.

One more kiss-- Ran hissed when he lined himself up to your entrance. His head was the only inches he had in-- why were you still so tight? What was wrong with you?

He was going to have to shove himself in. Eh, he'd feel bad about it later---

+++++

Ran's room door swung open...

Rindou walked in. He didn't even seem bothered that you literally threw Ran off of you and covered yourself with his bedsheets.

Ran was so red! Rindou wanted to laugh but held it in.

"What the fuck Rin?! I'm going to beat your ass!"

He ignored his brother and looked at you. "So, quick question. You think having a bubble machine at one of my gigs is a good move or?"

..... Was he fucking serious? Your high was dying a bit-- Did you really almost fuck Ran? WTF?

You shook your head and leaned back on his headboard. "Uh.. What?"

Rindou rolled his eyes while Ran was just flabbergasted. Were you really answering Rindou's stupid questions.

"Bubbles? I was asked if I could DJ at some rave."

You let out a little "oh.." before you perked up. "A rave you say? What kind of bubbles? Because if I were you, I'd get some neon colored solution so it would look trippy under the black lights."

You two began to talk like Ran wasn't naked on the floor and you weren't naked in his bed.

(Rin) "Wanna go with me?"

You tilted your head. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

You liked to dance.. "When?"

He took out his phone. "In like an hour. You can be my dancer and be with me on stage if you want?"

"Oh hell yeah!" Both brothers blinked when you ran out to go get ready. You didn't bother to get dressed or anything! Just wrapped up in Ran's sheets and out the back door.

Rin was the first to break out of his perverted thoughts. Since Ran still had his pants around his ankles. He could use this opportunity..

Rindou stepped up to his big brother. Wearing his stupid smirk.. "Are you mad?"

Hell yeah he was! But Rindou didn't let him say shit.

"I bet you're mad.. But you know what? Do you remember a few summers back? We were bored out of our minds, then suddenly a big orange moving van pulled up?."

Ran was gritting his teeth. "What?-- orange van? The only time we've seen one was when Y/n moved in next door."

Rindou scoffed. " Looks like you haven't completely smoked out your brain. But remember when she stepped out of her parents car? What did I say?-- I called dibs.."

Ran stood up and pulled up his pants. "I don't know what you're talking about. And I don't care. Get over here so I can bash your face in."

Rindou stepped back and smiled. He was mocking Ran by shaking his finger in his face. "Ah ah.. If you hit my face she'll ask what happened. I'll tell her you did it. She won't talk to you for a good while."

He was right... You always gave him shit and told him to be nicer to Rindou. He protected his baby brother all the time. They were together all the fucking time. How was that being mean?!

Instead of the face Rindou got a good punch to the gut. It had so much force that it actually hurt a little to pee..

Eh, to Rindou-- it was all worth it.. Especially since he had you next to him all night.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Fake It Till You Make It

Arthur Curry x plus size reader

Never pair two borderline insane superheroes together on a mission.

Warnings: black eyes, some injuries, fluff, fake marriage

WC: 716

Minors DNI

Picking up strange undercover missions was your specialty. You couldn’t even count the number of times you had to wear some crazy disguise and sneak into a drug running ring or a mobster dinner party. You have been in outfits ranging from heels taller than your will to live, covered in makeup and wearing jewels worth more than your life, to oil stained coveralls who had last been owned by Superman himself.

But this, this tops the lot. 

“Let me get this straight, you want me to pretend to be married to Aquaman so we can infiltrate a wildlife sanctuary which has been using great white sharks to smuggle drugs and guns over international borders.” Batman’s face remained stoic, as always.

“Yes.”

“And you actually expect this to work.”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, fine I guess. I’ll do it but I expect appropriate compensation.”

“You can’t drive the batmobile.”

“Five minutes.”

“No.”

“I sit in the passenger seat and you drive but I pick the music.”

“…..Fine.”

“Hell yeah! I guess the only thing left to do is to actually meet this fish man.” His eyes narrowed at you from behind his cowl.

“Don’t call him fish man.” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“Jesus Christ, old man. Lighten up a bit.” His scowl deepened. But before he could reprimand you, there came a mighty yell from down the hall, causing both of you to turn and look at the source. A man, who could only be described as a giant, was barrelling down the corridor, long curly hair flowing behind him wildly as he ran. He was topless, which you greatly appreciated, considering the fact that he was built like a linebacker with tattoos covering every inch of his copper skin.

“Wifey!” And the next thing you knew, his broad shoulder was firmly planted in your soft stomach and you were moving backwards. Your back met the cold floor of the tower and a huge weight settled on top of you. It took you a second to realise what had happened.

“Did you just rugby tackle me?” His head tilted as if to say ‘duh’. He straddled your plump thighs, keeping you pinned to the ground, his hands were planted firmly by your head. Dark curls framed his face as he leaned forward, your noses almost brushing.

“Hi there wifey.” And he smiled brightly. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be too bad.

——————

You were soaked from head to toe, one eye swollen shut from a particularly good punch, your body completely sore from running and a chill that settled on your bones. Arthur wasn’t much better off than you; a few cuts along his arms and stomach, a dark bruise on his jaw.

But you were both smiling widely, still holding hands, your wedding bands glittering in the low light of the batplane.

Batman looked thoroughly exhausted. “What do you mean you’re married for real?”

Arthur shrugged. “We had to make it believable.” You nodded, backing up his point.

“He’s right, we would’ve been caught otherwise.”

“That’s what the forged documents are for!” You glanced at your counterpart, both of you trembled trying to contain your laughter.

“But those are fake, you could tell that from a mile away.”

“So your solution was to get legally married?!” 

“Yep.” “Pretty much.” You spoke at the same time. The older hero collapsed into one of the many seats on the plane, rubbing at his temples.

“I’ll have Alfred draw up the paperwork to get your marriage annulled.”

“No can do pal!” Bruce glanced at Aquaman, already dreading what was about to come out of his mouth next. “We’re married in Atlantean culture too and divorce is not an option.” 

Bruce sat there for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as his brain attempted to comprehend the sheer stupidity of the two people in front of him. And yet, he could only blame himself. Then, he said something he thought he would never have to say: “I should’ve listened to Superman.”

“Yeah you really should have.” You agreed, giving Arthur’s large hand a squeeze as you glanced up at him. “But hey! Now we’re permanent partners and we work really well together!”

“You blew up the wildlife sanctuary.”

“We got all of the animals out first!”

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[gaysindistress]

Sad girl - twelve

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, implied smut, Anthony being Anthony

word count: 2.8k

part 11 | series masterlist

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman    @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv @iateall-yourcookies  @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @alana4610 @wh0reforbucknasty

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Tangled in each other’s arms, the couple’s adorned with soft morning light and glittering jewelry. In the aftermath of their night, clothes are scattered across the floor and blankets are abandoned in favor of thin bed sheets. Bodies ache from last night's activities and Doll groans as she wakes up is evidence of the toll it took on her body. Trapped against his chest, she can only stretch out her legs but the action stirs Bucky awake as well. 

“Hey there, Sergeant,” she hums, examining him as he yawns. 

“Careful,” he hums back, hauling her up so that they’re eye to eye. 

“Oh, did I just find a kink?” giggling, she lands a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Only when you say it,” a smile spreads from where her lips touched his. 

Nuzzling her head into the junction of his head and shoulder, she places soft kisses there while he closes his eyes in appreciation. There is no denying that a shift in their relationship happened last night; it is only a matter of time before someone addresses it. 

“How are you feeling?” 

She lifts her head, “Sore but good. How about you?”

“Good,” he pauses, “Are you going to tell me what happened between you and your father?”

Sighing, she drops back down, “You just had to go and ruin the moment by bringing him up.”

“Would you rather I ask when I’m balls deep in you?”

“Let’s just stop talking about sex and my father,” she clears her throat, “I didn’t know Anthony was my father for a long time. My mom didn’t really talk about it. Throughout the years, I kind of pieced it all together; it was a one-night stand gone wrong and she tried to get away because of his work. They tried to make it work but it was too dangerous so she left. It was just us, moving from city to city to get away from it all. She got caught up in drugs at some point and could never really get sober. I think I was about ten when she brought me to his apartment, hoping that he would take me. Pepper opened the door and welcomed me in. Mom said it was temporary but months went by without anything so Anthony just assumed that she had died and was granted full custody of me. Anyways he told me last night that she had shown up about 6 months ago, asking him for money but he never told me. He said he invited her to the ceremony but she never showed. That’s why we got into it.”

“Ah I see,” he brushes the hair away from her face, “I didn’t know that’s what he had planned.”

“It’s not your fault. I told him I don’t want anything to do with him or Stark Industries and I quit,” she says shrugging her shoulders. 

His hand stills at her words, “You did what?”

“I told him to get fucked and that I quit,” she says slower, not daring to move. 

“Doll, look at me.”

She sits up on her forearm, head resting against her shoulder as her eyes search his face for an indication of how he’s feeling. 

“I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, why would I be mad? He’s an asshole for not telling you about your mom and you had every right to tell him off like that.”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to be proud of me.”

His hand gently grabs her chin, “You are the most headstrong person I have ever met and you prove it to me every day. He had it coming honestly and I’m surprised you didn’t pull a gun on him.”

That earns a chuckle from her, “It was our wedding day. I wasn’t carrying but I’m more surprised that I didn’t find one on you last night.”

“There were plenty of others carrying, I didn’t see the need.”

“What if something happened? You never know when you’re a mob boss.”

The hand on her chin pushes her away as he rolls his eyes and sits up, “I’m not a mob boss.”

“That’s exactly what a mob boss would say,” she teases, eyeing his back and ass as he searches for his discarded boxers. 

“I’m a freelance contractor, a private contractor, Doll. I’m not a part of any organized crime,” he shoots back, tucking himself into his boxers.

“Oh really? I seem to remember you taking part in a business deal with a very well-known organized criminal, resulting in the exchange of illegal goods and people.”

He cocks his head at her, “Are you implying that I trafficked you?”

“In the eyes of the law, that’s what it looks like.”

“In the eyes of the law, you’re part of an illegal business front and help criminals evade police,” he taunts her back while tossing her a new pair of underwear and a shirt from her closet. 

“Admit you’re in organized crime and I’ll admit I’m into it too,” she stands and puts the clothes on, making sure to put on a show from him as she does so. 

“Now Doll, you know better than that. Even if I was, I wouldn’t go around telling people no matter how tempting they might be,” his lips are pressed against her hair as he grabs her by the hips and spins her to face him. 

“Seduction is a woman’s best weapon.”

“You are not the average woman though. You’re the new Mrs. Barnes; intelligent, stunning, quick-witted, sassy, and too good with a gun.”

“Is that what you think of me, Mr. Barnes?” she mummers as she puts her arms around his neck. 

“I could go on if you’d like,” he smiles at their closeness. 

“Oh please do. I want to know everything that you think about me.”

He ducks down to kiss her, slotting his lips against hers. His tongue pokes at her lips, asking for entrance and she happily grants it. 

“I’ll tell you in time. Right now I want to celebrate with my wife,” and with that he tosses her back onto the bed, both of them laughing wildly. 

________________________________________________________________

“Stark Towers, 10 am, week from today, Monday morning,” Doll reads the message her father sent her. 

“Why?” she sends back. 

“You quit. We have to go through your resignation.”

A deep sigh leaves her body as she tosses her phone back onto the nightstand. 

“Everything okay?” Bucky calls from behind her. 

“Oh you know my father is demanding a meeting, what’s new?” she responds, turning back to the bare man next to her. 

“Need something to take your mind off it?” the mischievous glint in his eye catches hers. 

“Depends. Does it involve you in between my legs?”

“Among other things.”

________________________________________________________________

The conference room is stuffy with the number of lawyers and other personnel jammed in it. Across from her sits Anthony, Wanda is at his side and his head lawyer Vision is next to her. The young boy she recognizes as Peter is behind him with Scott who she sends a smile. He returns it but it quickly fades when he spots a dark spot on her neck from under her turtleneck. Rolling her eyes at his reaction, she sets her focus on Anthony. 

“Is all of this really necessary?”

“Yes, you know it’s the procedure when dealing with disgruntled employees.”

“Disgruntled? Wow if that’s how you want to play this, then so be it,” she remarks, sitting up straighter in her chair. 

Anthony’s eyes flicker to her with annoyance before settling back on the document in front of him. Vision begins going over it, detailing what she’ll receive in the event of her resignation and how she’ll be removed from the company. Most of it is standard however Vision stops at the last section, looking between her and Anthony. 

“Now is the matter of who will receive the company in the event of Mr. Stark’s untimely death. Originally it was meant to pass to you, Mrs. Barnes given that you were still with the company. However, given that you have resigned, it will go to Morgan Stark. For the time being, you will be granted temporary ownership until Morgan is 21 years of age, and then ownership will be transferred to her. You will be required to attend any meetings Mr. Stark requests to maintain an updated understanding of the business.”

Scoffing at ridiculous clauses, she looks directly at her father,” Excuse me what? I quit and you still somehow are requiring me to be involved?”

“It’s the terms you agreed to when you started working for me.”

“I don’t remember this section by any stretch of the imagination. Vision you can’t be serious. There’s no way I agreed to this,” she turns to Vision who looks at her with an uneasy expression. 

“Unfortunately, you did,” he explains, sliding the papers over to her so she can see her signature from 6 years ago, meaning she did in fact agree to this. 

“Oh my god,” her body deflates as she whispers to herself, “I should’ve never gone to work for you.”

“Speak up darling,  I didn’t hear you,” Anthony taunts her. 

Taking a deep breath she repeats herself: “I said I should’ve never gone to work for you. You have taken advantage of me every step of the way. I shouldn’t even be surprised that this clause slipped in without me noticing.”

“Well you did agree to it so that’s how things are going to be,” his nonchalant tone is like nails on a chalkboard to her. 

“Clearly. Is there anything that I can do to get out of this, Vision, or am I completely fucked?”

“I’m afraid this is your only option.” 

“Lovely,” she takes another deep breath, closing her eyes. 

“Well if that’s all we have to go over, I would sign and leave,” she says, mentally growing exhausted from playing these games with her father. 

Vision nods his head, passing her a pen so she can sign away her life once again. Her new name bleeds into the paper right under her father’s signature, binding them together professionally and ruining whatever is left of their personal relationship. Papers are shuffled back into order and placed delicately into Vision’s briefcase as she stands and smooths out her trousers, rings clinging together as she does so. She throws a tightlipped smile to the lawyer and Wanda, who had been taking notes during the meeting. For her father, she sends him a cold stare as she leaves the conference room. 

Walking out of the room, she pulls out her phone to see a text from Bucky. 

“Meet me at the café by the tower when you’re done.”

“No please?” she sends back. 

“Please.”

She steps into an elevator, shaking her head at his short texts. A hand stops the doors from closing all the way and her father steps in after her. If she hadn’t been wearing a white turtleneck, she would have punched him but alas she doesn’t want to ruin her shirt. 

“Couldn’t have waited for the next one?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

She cocks one eyebrow, “oh really? Where was that sentiment six months ago or last month or even a few days ago?”

“I’m not going to apologize for doing what I thought was right. You need to let it go, darling.”

Clenching her jaw, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I think John is trying to sabotage my deal with Namor.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I received a rather interesting voicemail from the Dora Milaje’s head, Ayo, last night.”

“And?”

It’s his turn to clench his jaw and take a deep breath, “They’re aware that I made the deal behind their backs and they’re not very happy.”

“What did you expect?”

“John was supposed to be handling it. Now he’s not doing his job so things are about to go down. You need to warn James.”

“Why can’t you?”

The elevator stops and dings, letting them know they have arrived at their destination. Doll goes to leave first but Anthony grabs her arm, keeping her at his side as he guides them out together. 

“We’ll just have to tell him together.”

She doesn’t have a chance to question him as he sends her a warning look and continues to usher her out the front doors. In an attempt to look less forced, he slings his arm around her shoulder, fingers gripping tightly through her blazer. Neither speaks as they enter the small café next door, quickly spotting Bucky and sitting down at the booth he is at. He doesn’t share the same confused expression that she has but instead shares a knowing look with Anthony. 

“Wow you’re in on this too,” is the first thing she says to him, leaning back in the booth with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“He only agreed to have a private meeting,” Anthony answered. 

“And what is this ‘private’ meeting about?”

“Doll I’m…” Bucky tries to apologize to her but she holds her hand up to stop him. 

“No. Don’t give me some bullshit apology.”

“It’s about Marianne,” Anthony pipes up before a fight breaks out. 

“What about my mom?”

“That day she showed up at my door, she left a phone number to get ahold of her. When she didn’t show up at your wedding, I had Scott trace it and find out her location.”

Furrowing her brow, “And?”

Anthony rolls his eyes at her impatience, “And she was at John Walker’s apartment. Scott went over to check on her and they both claimed that John had offered her a place to stay until she could get back on her feet. She seems sober even.”

“What? Did you bring her back?” her voice starts to raise. 

“Quiet down, darling. No, I did not. It seemed like she was there on her own accord so I wasn’t going to force her to go with Scott.”

“Oh but you can force me into staying a part of your business even after I quit among other things.”

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice is soft as he tries his hand at reasoning with her. 

“No James. My mom is with the man who held me at gunpoint and no one even seems the slightest bit concerned about it.”

Being called James again is enough to set the fire off in his heart. He immediately sits up, face void of expression as he goes back to sipping his coffee. 

“Things happen,” Anthony brushes off her comment, “You wanted to know where Marianne was and I told you so my job is done here.”

“Oh, it most certainly is not. You’re going to help me get her out of there,” she grabs Anthony by the arm, keeping him from leaving the booth, “You got us into this mess and you’re going to get us out.”

“Marianne is a grown woman, she can leave if she wants. As for you,” he leans down so they’re eye to eye, “You made it very clear that you don't have anything to do with me unless it’s professional so I don’t have to do anything.”

She gapes at him, mouth wide in shock from how unbothered he is by the whole situation. 

“Close your mouth. If you want her out of there, you can ask your husband,” he stares blankly before removing her hand and leaving the booth. 

Anger is radiating off of her body in waves while Bucky sits across from her with the stoic look he gives boring senators and overly drunk girls trying to get his attention. He appears completely unphased by the interaction, still drinking his coffee. She, on the other hand, is staring daggers into his soul, waiting for him to say something. 

“Got something to say?” he asks, barely affording her a glance. 

“Yeah, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“He asked for a meeting, knowing you were going to say no so I helped him set it up.”

“You didn’t think to mention it to me? Or is the secret keeping a part of our marriage now?”

“Wasn’t a secret.”

“Give me a break. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sets his coffee down, finally looking at her, “would you’ve agreed?”

She stays silent, knowing that she very well wouldn’t have agreed. Bucky nods his head in confirmation that he’s right. Pulling out his wallet, he drops a twenty on the table and slides out. Doll doesn’t move, arms still crossed while her chest rises and falls to calm her down. 

“Let’s go.”

He offers his hand out to her but she doesn’t take it as she gets out and walks past him towards the doors. 

[frillyfacefins]

Fun-Filled Fizzie Fucking - Chapter 4

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Ozzie/Fizzarolli Tags: Recreational Drug Use, Drugged Sex, long elaborate smut in multiple chapters, Heavy BDSM, BondageOther Additional Tags to Be Added, Weed Brownies, no beta we‘re already in hell, Food Play, not really food kink this time though, nausea play in second chapter but it‘s completely skippable, kind of bad bdsm etiquette, ozzie tries his best but fizzy is still fizzy, Rimming, Showers, Dirty Talk, So Much Dirty Talk Additional Tags for Chapter 4: Fucking Machines, Dom/sub, Subdrop, only beginning though they catch it before it goes too far, Gags, Bratting, Sex Toys, Daddy Dom Ozzie, Bratty Sub Fizzarolli Word Count Chapter 4: 4,796

Also on AO3

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2 II Chapter 3

Summary:

Photoshoots always left Fizz feeling as if somebody had shoved a TENS-unit up his ass and followed it with an espresso enema. ~~~ Fizzarolli comes home high off adrenaline after a big day and gets lovingly brought down by Ozzie with the help of some weed brownies and a new toy Ozzie has been working on…

Well, posting the last chapter of a fic about a pairing that was still a rare-pair when you started/wrote most of it and that is now such a big thing sure is a new experience for me :')

I'm always happy to get nice comments on ao3, but also if you reblog this here I absolutely love that too!

Anyway, here's the last chapter, have fun and mind the new tags!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was immediately cocooned in a gigantic fluffy towel and rubbed down with the same gentle thoroughness Ozzie had used to soap him up earlier. He was already too warm, so the towel made him feel even more stifled, but he accepted the care, especially since he could feel Ozzie walk out of the bathroom and towards their bedroom while he was gently drying his head.

The towel landed on the floor by the bedroom‘s entrance, and so did the shower cap, to be cleaned up by one of the succu-housemaids later. Ozzie, still wet from the shower, nuzzled against Fizz’ forehead for a moment before he put him down on the bed and quickly heated up his own body so the moisture still in his feathers would evaporate. The gust of hot air made Fizz wiggle in a mixture of discomfort and anticipation. The satin sheets only felt pleasantly cool against his skin for a second before his own body heat leeched into them.

“Ozzieeee,” he whined, his eyes glued to his royal lover‘s back. He had walked over to a shelf and was fucking around with something that wasn’t Fizz’s ass and thus obviously completely irrelevant in Fizz’ lust-addled mind. He felt soft, pliant, hot, like a tray of brownies ten minutes out of the oven, and somebody really fucking needed to eat him or he was going to turn to fucking stone.

(The weed having kicked in fully by now didn’t help his already whirling mind come up with decent metaphors, either.)

“Don’t worry baby, daddy’s here,“ Ozzie cooed somewhere to his right as the mattress sagged with his weight. Fizz realized only now that he had closed his eyes, and he opened them just in time to see Ozzie grab his leg before he pulled him into position so he could get to his ass more comfortably. Fizzarolli immediately grabbed his own legs and pulled them open to give Ozzie plenty of access.

He hadn’t seen what Ozzie had grabbed from the shelf, but he wasn‘t surprised to feel a generously lubed finger push into him. Ozzie finger-fucked him for a few delightful moments, then he pulled out and came back with more lube. That repeated another two times, and Fizz was just about to make a stink about how he didn’t need any more lube but he really needed more than a finger, when finally something else was pushing against his entrance. He looked down to see the base of the transparent beaded butt plug with the glitter in it. He frowned as the first two beads slipped into his hyper-slippery hole with hardly even a squelch.

“Ozzie, I swear to fucking Satan, why the fuck is that not your dick?!”

Ozzie winced, but pushed one more bead into him; at least this one, Fizz actually felt. “We talked about this, Fizzlecakes, no other Sin’s names in the bedroom…”

Fizz rolled his eyes and pushed back to make the next bead push into him faster. Oh, yes, that was more like it. Still not as good as Ozzie’s cock would have felt, though.

“Yeah yeah, gonna swear to fucking Bobo the Clown next time, but seriously, Ozzie??”

Ozzie leaned forward and nuzzled against his face. Fizz wanted to stay angry with him, but both the nuzzle and the next bead – this one a little bigger than the size of his own fist – made the addition of anger to his fuzzy mind way too complicated.

“I told you earlier that I’ve got a specific kind of game in mind, right? I need you really, really lose for that, baby.”

Fizz had a fuzzy memory of Ozzie talking about “very specific fun”, but that might as well have been a month ago with how completely unrelated it felt to his current situation.

He still let out a stubborn whine, even though the next bead made him feel nearly full enough to stop the pain of the unbearable vacuum inside of him where Ozzie’s cock should be.

“I know, baby,” Ozzie soothed him as he started to work in the last and biggest bead of the plug – more a ball than a bead, really. “I’m gonna fill you up all nice, then I’m going to put a blindfold on you and get the toy I’ve been working on, alright? And then you’ll get the pounding of your life, I promise.”

“Ozziiieee, that’s gonna take way too looong,” Fizz sobbed, raising his hips hungrily to make the rest of the plug slip in faster. His arms shot out to grab at Ozzie’s fluff and pull him in to just fuck him right now, immediately (not a thought in his head about how much time it would take to pull out the beaded plug again safely).

But Ozzie just let out a few gentle clucks and untangled his robotic hands from his mane as gently as if they had actual fingers that could get hurt if they got stuck.

“Either you’re good now, or daddy’s gonna stick a vibe egg right here,” he pushed at the base of the plug and finally slipped the rest of the last, grapefruit-sized bead in. “And then you’ll lie here and think long and hard about why it would have been better to let daddy stick to his plans instead of being a greedy, impatient little brat…”

Fizz let out a desperate keen, both from the absolutely delicious stretch and the excruciating thought of having to lie here with all of that silicone not only inside of him, but a vibrator making all of those beads judder and torturing his sensitive, hungry hole while it was still not getting fucked…

“So what’s it gonna be, baby?” Ozzie asked, his long, slippery fingers rubbing through his crack up to his tail and giving the sensitive bit of skin right below a firm, nearly punishing massage.

“Gonna be good, big daddy,” Fizz mewled, desperately gasping for air, unable to keep his ass from trying to wriggle away from Ozzie’s fingers on that oversensitive spot. That wriggling of course just made him feel the plug’s tip deep in his guts, punching another overwhelmed gasp out of him.

The touch below his tail stopped.

“That‘s my good Fizzy-frog,” he rumbled, then he leaned forward to nuzzle against Fizz’ cheek. His fingers rubbed up and down his cock twice, in a nearly soothing rhythm, before he finally gave his hip a squeeze and pulled away.

Fizz had thought he had been too hot earlier, but now that Ozzie’s body heat completely retreated, he felt suddenly very, very cold.

“Don‘t leave, Ozzie…” His voice came out weaker than before, hardly more than a whimper.

Ozzie immediately looked up from where he had been taking a blindfold out of the nightstand drawer. He dropped the blindfold on the bed and leaned over Fizzy again, cupping his face gently as he looked him in the eyes.

Fizz felt the cold retreat.

“I just need to be gone for a minute at most, baby,“ Ozzie said, and immediately the dread crept back into Fizz’ chest. It must have also crept onto his face, because Ozzie kissed his cheeks and his forehead and gently ran his hand over his hat. “How about I give you the bubble sheet? You can count the bubbles, and I’ll be back in no time.”

Fizz made a face. His discomfort was pushing him into a slightly different headspace, but at least that made him feel more mopey than, well… alone.

“Okay. Also the chewy-gag,” he said.

“Whatever my Fizzy-baby wants,“ Ozzie cooed, and Fizz was very proud of himself for not just answering that what he really wanted was for Ozzie to just fuck him. He knew that he’d be really glad that he had been patient later, because when Ozzie surprised him with something in the bedroom, it usually ended with Fizz getting both his mind and his back blown out in the most intense and devious way possible. But right now he felt like a mopey baby and he wanted Ozzie to be here, not somewhere that wasn’t here.

Ozzie cooed and kissed him for another few moments, then he got up to get the bubble sheet from Fizz’ fidget toy chest and the custom-made gag with the chewy mouth-bit from the same shelf the butt plug had come from. He sat back down and kissed his face a few more times, then he trailed more kisses down his chest, making Fizz feel all happy and soft again.

Suddenly Ozzie blew a raspberry on his belly and Fizz let out a yell and nearly propelled himself off the bed – which would have been a very dumb thing to do with that gigantic butt plug still inside of him. A good thing, then, that Ozzie was holding onto his legs at the same time so he couldn’t get away.

“Ozzie!!!” Fizz groused, but when he saw the grin on all three of Ozzie’s faces, he absolutely couldn’t be mad at him.

“That’s more like it,” Ozzie said, then he held the chewy pillow-shaped mouth part of the gag against his lips. “Say ah?”

Fizz rolled his eyes and did, indeed, say “Ah!” It was silly, but he did suddenly feel way better, as if he’d been slowly sinking into quicksand and that raspberry had been a cartoon kangaroo grabbing him and pulling him out in one powerful jump. He could still feel his heart beat in his ears when he closed his mouth around the gag and started to suck on it like an oversized binky.

Ozzie led the strap of the gag around behind Fizz’ head and secured it with the quick-release buckle on Fizz’ cheek. He pressed the bubble sheet into his hand, then he laid the padded leather eye-mask they used as blindfold on his face. Fizz could feel warm, large fingertips caress his cheek.

“You good, baby?” Ozzie asked.

Fizz buried his molars in the gag and nodded.

Ozzie gently lifted his head and fastened the velcro of the eye-mask. “See, I knew you could be good.” Fizz felt a kiss on his cheek, between the strap of the gag and the mask, then the fidget toy was put in his hand. A moment later, Ozzie’s weight vanished and his warmth retreated again.

Fizz kept gnawing on the chew toy and tried to map the bubble toy with one hand. He started to push bubbles in one by one, counting them while he did his best to slowly breath through his nose. The gag was making him drool, though it was better than with most ball gags. Fizz liked having gags in his mouth, more than Ozzie liked gagging him, actually (Ozzie generally preferred to hear any noises Fizz would gift him with), but he still had mixed feelings about the drooling. It was awesome when Ozzie’s dick was in his mouth, and drooling while he was getting fucked just added to the general feeling of debauchery, but when he was just waiting with a gag in his mouth, it sometimes did feel unpleasant, unattractive, helpless…

He could have used his hands to wipe the drool away. Ozzie hadn’t tied him down. But he didn’t want to touch the gag with his hands – that wasn’t his place, that was Ozzie’s privilege, the only part of him that got to touch the gag was his mouth. It was Ozzie’s job to clean him up. If Ozzie didn’t want him clean, Fizz wasn’t going to be clean.

That thought helped. Yes, the drool that was drying on his chin still felt unpleasant, but that was okay. Ozzie liked it when he got messy in bed. Ozzie liked the way Fizz looked when he lost control. It was alright. It was just like it was supposed to be.

He kept counting bubbles.

Just when he was finished with the second row, he heard Ozzie come back into the room. There was a noise like something heavy and metal was being put down, then some squeaking and grinding sounds.

The bed dipped, and Ozzie’s hand was back, opening the quick-release of Fizz’ gag.

“See, I’m back already. No time at all, right? Come on, spit that out, baby.”

Fizz opened his mouth wide so Ozzie could get the gag out without getting it caught on his sharp teeth. The blindfold didn’t come off, but Ozzie took the opportunity to push his thumb against Fizz’ tongue and caress his spit-slick cheek with his palm. Fizz sighed through his nose as he closed his lips around Ozzie’s finger and gave it a suckle. He tasted like metal.

He felt Ozzie bend over him, the fluff of his mane tickling his shoulders. Ozzie’s breath was on his face, a strange kind of silence hanging between them that he couldn’t read because he still couldn’t see shit, but then Ozzie pulled his thumb out of Fizz’ mouth and kissed him hard and deep.

Fizz let go of the bubble sheet and wrapped all of his limbs around Ozzie, his arms and legs looping twice around his body, his tail sliding up Ozzie’s arm and clinging to it like a climbing plant. All his apprehension melted in the heat of Ozzie’s body and he gave himself up to his mouth. For a moment he felt he might be able to liquify and seep into Ozzie, fuse with him like one of those creepy deep-sea fish, or like lichen on a tree, so he never had to be anywhere but right where Ozzie was.

Ozzie stood up without breaking the kiss and carried Fizz off the bed and in the direction of the bedroom window. He stopped after just two steps, though, and went down on his knees, as far as Fizz could tell just by feeling his movement.

“Retract,” he ordered, and Fizz immediately did. He completely let go of Ozzie, whose hands were securely cradling his body, and went limp as Ozzie turned him around. “Elbows and knees.”

Fizz let Ozzie put him down on something that felt like leather, very new leather, still a little stiff, but not uncomfortable, exactly the right size for his upper body. His metal limbs, which were hanging off the leather cushion or whatever it was, clinked against something that was also metal, maybe metal rods of some sort. He could feel them move, and then there were restraints, and he felt his limbs getting strapped against the rods. He tried to create a mental image of whatever device he was getting strapped into right now. It felt a lot like a normal spanking bench, though those usually didn’t let his crotch hang as freely as this one. And he’d also usually have his arms and legs bound to the legs of the bench itself, not these rods that were very much adjustable, as he soon figured out when the rods his legs were strapped to moved farther apart, forcing him to spread his thighs. The pressure of the plug inside of him was a little unpleasant now that he was lying on his belly, but it also pushed against his prostate way more insistently now. He squirmed while Ozzie did something that resulted in a few clicking sounds. His impatience was coming back, mixing with slight confusion and burning anticipation until he couldn’t help a pained little whine coming out of him.

There was a big hand on his back now, gently rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. “Are you alright, Fizzy? I need you to stay in this position for a while.”

“Ozzie, please,” Fizz whimpered. He tried to grab that hand with his tail to pull it farther down. “I’ve been so good, can’t you just—“

“Fizz, focus” Ozzie”s voice stopped him. He sounded serious, commanding, hot enough for Fizz’ cock to start dripping again. “I need to know if you can hold this position.”

Fizz took a deep breath and tried to check in with himself. Everything felt so loose and fluffy, more like cotton candy than flesh and bones. He tried to start at the bottom and go up. His hips were alright, bis back too, but…

“Shoulders,” he said.

“Up or down?”

“Down please.”

He could hear Ozzie’s smile in his voice. “Well done, baby.”

The adjustable rods that his arms were strapped to moved a little, pulling his arms down just an inch or so and allowing his shoulders to relax properly. Ozzie’s hand was still between his shoulder blades, feeling for the tension that had been bothering Fizz.

“Better?”

Fizz nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy…” Ozzie’s large hand ran down his back, skimming the base of his tail. “Now that you’re all cozy and loose, let’s get this thing out of you, hm?” He gave the base of the beaded plug a little tug, but instead of just pulling it out right away, Fizz heard him squeeze some more lube onto his fingers, which he immediately started to massage into the skin of Fizz’ stretched rim. Once his skin was slippery enough for Ozzie’s taste, he slowly started to pull out the first bead.

The beaded plug wasn’t quite as bad as regular anal beads, where pulling them out one by one was half the fun of the whole exercise. But it was still intense to feel his hole stretch once again to let that largest bead slip out. The relief that washed over him when it popped out was short-lived, because Ozzie immediately slipped a wet finger into his hole to rub more lube into the tissue just inside of him. Of course he appreciated that Ozzie just really didn‘t want him to tear, but it also made something deep in his loins bubble up. Ozzie was always careful, sure, but if he was being this thorough, it usually meant that something big was coming. This was pre-fisting behavior.

His speculations were interrupted when Ozzie pulled out the next bead, added some more lube, and then went for the next two in quick succession. Fizz’ body was boiling again, his mind by now too sluggish and woozy from the brownies to really concentrate on anything but the beads slipping out of him one by one. The only thought that did make it all the way from his brain into his awareness — a recollection of that time Ozzie had stuffed him with eggs and a good half-gallon of lube and had him squeeze out every single one of them — wasn‘t exactly helpful either.

“There we go,” Ozzie said as the last few beads dropped out of Fizz’ hole without any resistance. Fizz was kind of curious just how big his gape was right now. Judging by the way Ozzie had to use three fingers for him to actually feel any stretch, it had to be massive.

“You have been so good, Froggie baby, so patient…” Ozzie rumbled as he fingered even more lube into his open, waiting hole. “Are you ready to get your reward?”

Fizz nodded frantically and pushed his ass backwards as far as he could with his thighs tied to the metal rods. “Daddy, please,” he whined, though it came out more slurry and wet this time than before. The fingers and the cool lube inside of him made him shiver, and he could feel himself sweat where his upper body was pressed against the leather cushion and drip where his stiff cock was just far enough from that cushion that he could’t hump against it. He felt trapped and hot and as if he was about to fucking explode, too strung-out on both Ozzie’s foreplay and the anticipation of what he was working towards to even continue begging. He was on the brink of something, hanging by a thread, and even though he knew Ozzie had him, would always have him, he didn‘t know how much longer he could hang on.

But Ozzie knew. Ozzie always knew.

There was the noise of more metal parts being adjusted, then something that felt like the tip of a dildo slipped into Fizz’s waiting, open hole.

Fizz was about to break down in tears because that STILL wasn’t Ozzie’s cock. How much longer was he going to do this to him? Hadn’t he said that he had been good, that he was going to get a reward, so why was he still—

But then he heard the flip of a switch and the dildo started to move deeper.

And deeper.

And deeper.

It moved at such a consistent, unwavering speed, not only going deeper but stretching his rim wider and wider, that Fizz nearly started to panic when it kept moving beyond the point the plug had penetrated inside of him and stretched him more than the biggest bead had before. For a second he forgot where he was and who he was and that Ozzie was right beside him and thought that this thing was going to keep moving, that it was going to rip through his guts and into his lungs and his heart and force its way through blood and gore to come out of his mouth as if he was a chicken being roasted on a stick, but then the forward movement stopped, and it started to slowly move back again.

But once again Fizz didn’t have time to feel relieved — because that dildo had some kind of soft barbs at its underside that had been flush with its length when it had pushed in, but which were now dragging against his colon walls and especially his prostate on their way out of him. Fizz’ head snapped up when he felt that, and his mouth dropped open on a silent whimper.

He heard Ozzie’s chuckle when the dildo stopped moving again, just deep enough inside of him for Fizz to still feel it. As the whole process started over, he felt Ozzie’s hand on his shoulder and then on the back of his head. He blinked into the dim light of their bedroom as Ozzie pulled off the eye mask.

Fizz wanted to say something. ‘You’re fucking killing me, Ozz’ maybe, or just a nice long string of ‘fuck’s, but the dildo came back faster this time and even though it did not actually push as far as his lungs, it still took his breath away. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a desperate keen like that of a dying animal when it pulled back again, also faster than before.

“You get why I needed you really, really relaxed, baby?” Ozzie cooed at him, cradling his jaw in one hand so he could push his chin up and see every tiny expression of his. His eyes looked like two thin slits of neon light in the deep blue of his face. The dildo started to move into him once more, again a little faster, but Fizz still had just enough of his mental capacity left to notice that Ozzie was breathing harder, too. A deep shiver ran through his body, a touch of lightning that warred with the expanding, boiling lust inside of him for just a second before the two merged. Ozzie was feeding off him, sharing his lust without any more of a touch than the finger under his chin. Fizz could see his hard cock from the corner of his eye and his mouth watered just before the dildo pulled back again and sent him into a new wave of ecstasy.

The movements of the dildo got faster and faster, and his mind was soon completely filled with the electric storm of an incredible fuck after thorough, torturous foreplay. But even as he started to moan and sob with every in- and out-movement, the scent of Ozzie’s arousal this close to him didn’t allow him to just completely let go.

“Ozzie,” he managed to push out around a low sob while the dildo’s soft barbs combed his insides, “fuck my — oh fuck!” He didn‘t manage to get all of it out, because the dildo was coming back and by now the thrusting was so fucking fast, just punching into him and pulling out, punching in, pulling out, faster and faster and faster…

There was no way he was going to be able to tell Ozzie what he wanted from him. So he just opened his mouth, let his tongue hang out and stared up at Ozzie through a veil of overwhelmed tears.

With his mouth open like this, Fizz couldn’t hold back any of the needy, wet, embarrassing noises or the dribbling of drool that the insistent, faster and faster thrusting of the fuck machine was forcing out of him. He was sobbing and grunting and squawking while he tried to hold eye-contact with Ozzie, who was still just watching him with an expression on his face as if he was looking at the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

He let out a deep, insistent whine, because words just were not an option anymore. He felt like he was about to come at any moment. The dildo was moving so fast that he could hardly tell whether it was thrusting in or pulling out at any given moment. He needed Ozzie’s cock in his mouth so badly that he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get it right this minute — for real this time, not like earlier when he had thought he’d die if he wasn’t going to get fucked soon, because obviously he had survived that long enough.

“Alright, baby…” Ozzie pressed out. His voice sounded like he was out of breath, his hand was trembling as he grabbed Fizz’ jaw harder, and when he used his other hand to finally, finally feed his cock into Fizz waiting, open mouth, it seemed like he missed on accident when he smeared his leaking tip over Fizz’ cheek before he locked in on the target.

The fuck machine was pistoning the dildo in and out of him at such a speed that Fizz stopped being a body and just became scalding, liquid energy. Ozzie filled his head with his cock and his taste and his scent, Fizz’ face was buried in the fuzz of his big, hard body, unable to breathe but also absolutely unable to care about that.

He didn’t know when he started to come, but it had to have happened at some point between him turning into liquid and the world bursting into white and red fireworks.

It would have been too much to say that he “blacked out”, but he also wasn’t really conscious for the next however many minutes. He only realized that the fuck machine had stopped and that Ozzie had untied him when he was lifted up and cradled against Ozzie’s fluffy chest, and he had no idea when exactly they had left the bedroom, but they were definitely in the bathroom now. There was a glass being pushed against his lips, and he realised that the inside of his mouth tasted like Ozzie’s jizz, which was a taste he loved when it was fresh but which was as vile as anybody else’s fluids the morning after. He took a sip of water, but apparently his throat was still shot from swallowing Ozzie all the way down while he was pretty literally getting fucked out of his mind, and he immediately started choking.

“Careful, froggy!” Ozzie immediately put the glass down and bent Fizz forward over one of his hands while he tapped his back with the other one. Fizz coughed up a good amount of jizz and spit before he finally felt like he could breathe again, then he let Ozzie give him some more water. This time he bent his head forward immediately after taking the sip and just shook it back and forth to rinse his mouth, then he spit again.

He shook his head the next time Ozzie offered him the glass, then he let himself be scooped up again. He buried his face in Ozzie’s chest while Ozzie carried him into the shower and slipped another shower cap over his hat. The warm water made him even more sleepy, and he began to drift in and out of consciousness while big, warm hands cleaned his completely fucked-out body. There was another big, fluffy towel, and the next time he managed to push his way through the heavy blanket of exhaustion, an actual blanket was covering him, and Ozzie was in the process of joining him under that blanket. He adjusted the cover over the both of them before he pulled Fizz close to him. Cocooned in warmth and softness and Ozzie’s beloved scent, Fizz finally let himself slip down into sleep.

[flowersforjude]

𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Elvis x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | The show comes to a close, and the curtain drops. Elvis drops along with it as usual. But this time he doesn’t get back up.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2,805

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mentions of drug use, Needles, Blood, Sickness(Vomiting, Ect), The Colonel(Yeah, he gets a warning)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This is probably my favorite thing I've written, but its also the saddest.

masterlist | read on ao3

You watch from your place just offstage as the glittering gold curtain slowly lowers to the ground. As the heavy fabric reaches the floor, shielding your husband from the view of the crowd, you wait for him to rise from his knees. But he doesn’t; instead, he stays down. His shoulders heaving and his head bowed. He looks like he’s in some faraway place.

Your legs itch to walk over to him. To see if he was alright, but you give him another minute. Tonight’s show was big, and Elvis had given it everything he had, like always. So maybe he just needed a bit more time to collect himself.

After several long seconds, Jerry finally speaks up from beside you, “You all good, E.P.?”

Maybe it was the obvious worry in Jerry’s voice. Maybe it was the fact that Elvis didn’t answer or even move an inch, save for the shaking of his shoulders. Maybe it was the way you noticed him slightly swaying in place. But something in you chilled with fear.

A towel was placed around Elvis’ neck, and at last he moved to stand. Except he ends up falling. The sound of his head cracking against the hard floor of the stage makes your stomach drop. Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion in strong contrast to the rapid beat of your heart. You’re by his side in a flash, trying to move his limp body to somewhat lie in your lap. His head rests heavily on your thighs, and you try to calm your growing concern.

“Elvis? Wake up, honey. I need you to open your eyes!” You’re yelling, and you know there are people around. Not only backstage but also the audience. You can’t find the strength to give a shit about that right now though.

Your hand finds his clammy cheek, rubbing it to maybe rouse him even a little. It doesn’t do a thing. You get no response from him, and the dread building in your chest threatens to topple over.

And it nearly does when your husband begins to jerk uncontrollably in your grasp. You let out a frightened yelp as he shakes rapidly in front of you. His eyes move vigorously behind his eyelids.

At this point, a crowd had formed around you and Elvis. You look up and find Jerry in front of them all.

“Jerry?” You call in a panic. Your eyes pleading with him for help.

“He’s having a seizure!” Jerry yells. “Back the hell up and give him some space. Someone get a damn doctor!” The onlookers disperse, and he drops to the ground beside you.

“What can we do?” You ask, hoping he has some idea of how to help Elvis right now.

“Help me turn him on his side,” Jerry directs. “And give me your jacket. We need to put it under his head.”

You do as he orders and ease Elvis onto his side. You quickly shrug off your jacket, folding it before handing it to Jerry. He slides the fabric under Elvis’ head and sits back, breathing a little faster than before.

“That’s all we can do until he comes out of it,” he sighs.

It’s torture just sitting there and watching the love of your life in this state. You wanted to cry and quite possibly throw something, but you kept that anger under lock and key for when you saw the Colonel.

“How’d you know to do all that?” You softly question Jerry.

He shifts his legs. “My little sister has a seizure disorder, so growing up, I learned how to handle ‘em pretty fast.”

You open your mouth to reply, but at the same moment, Elvis finally stills.

“Y/N?” His voice is barely there, but you know you heard it.

His eyes remain closed, but his hand moves out like it’s searching for something. You slip yours into his, and he grips it with surprising force.

“I’m here, baby.” You assure him. “Can you open your eyes for me, please?”

His eyelashes flutter, and his blue eyes meet yours. They’re hazy, and you can tell he’s having a hard time focusing. But you’re just glad he can open them and that he’s talking.

You think he’s opening his mouth to say something, but whatever he had planned was cut off by a harsh gag. He abruptly pulls away from you and coughs up a mixture of vomit and blood. He heaves for a moment, and when nothing else will come up, he plops down onto his back.

“Ah! He’s awake!” The Colonel waddles onto the stage. He makes his way over to the three of you quickly. “Dr. Nick will be here shortly to give him something to boost his energy.” He leers over your husband. “We should get him up to his room.” He doesn’t look the least bit concerned. He looks at Elvis as though he weren’t really there. The borderline amused grin he has on his face is downright disgusting.

The Colonel reaches down just slightly to touch Elvis, and you immediately pull him away. You tug him closer so he’s half laying in your lap and half on the floor. The mere thought of that man being anywhere near your husband, touching him with those hands that shove endless pills down his throat, fills you with murderous rage.

You don’t want Elvis anywhere near the Colonel while he was in this incredibly vulnerable state. You want to take him as far away from that man and this place as you can. He should be at Graceland, where you could take care of him. Not here, where he’d be forced back on that stage to put on a show for people who didn’t know all it was costing him.

“That poor excuse for a doctor isn’t coming anywhere near him,” you sneer.

The Colonel glares at you disgustedly. He moves his eyes from you to Elvis in your arms. “He has another show in an hour. He must get up. We need him for sound check and wardrobe in thirty minutes.” The Colonel said, his voice void of any sympathy or human emotion.

You want to get up and punch the man across the face. That would require you to leave Elvis, though, and you don’t want to be even a few feet from him right now. “Does he look like he can perform again tonight?” You snap. “He isn’t going on the damn stage until he’s better.”

“This is not a negotiation.” The older man hissed, hitting his cane against the floor.

Before you can argue with him further, a stagehand runs up, panting. “Doctors here!”

You look over the boy's shoulder to thankfully see a doctor that isn’t Dr. Nick.

“This entire thing is unnecessary. These ridiculous dramatics are a waste of time.” The Colonel grumbles while you reluctantly ease Elvis onto his back so the doctor can do his job.

Finally able to stand, you march over to the Colonel. “You need to shut your damn mouth!” You spit. “He had a fucking seizure for, Christ sake. What kind of monster-”

Someone places their hand on your shoulder, and you almost shrug it off before you realize it’s Jerry. “Forget him, Y/N. I’ll get him out of here. You just worry about E.P.”

You look over to your husband. His eyes watch you from where he lies, even as the doctor is poking at him. He’s watching you because you're really the thing he needs right now. He needs your hands on him. He needs your warmth to comfort him.

You sigh. “You’re right. Thank you, Jer.”

You slide back down to the floor beside Elvis, and take his hand laying out, into yours. You rubbed your thumb across the back of his weak hand. Your eyes meet his with tears, blurring your view slightly. But you could still see that his eyes, normally bright blue and full of life, were now glossy with sickness. The bags that had been subtly making an appearance here lately were deep purple now. His hair was wet with sweat that dripped down his forehead. He gazes at you with the most pitiful look you’ve ever seen from him.

“Oh, baby,” you fretted.

“Don’t feel good, doll.” He groans, shuddering with pain or something else you can’t tell.

“I know, honey.” You choke out around the tears. You were so sure he was going to die while he was having that seizure. You’d never seen something like that up close, and it scared you to death. Especially since it was Elvis, the love of your life, you were having to watch like that. You thought he was gone for a long moment there. That the very thing he loved almost as much as he loved you and his father and his Memphis Mafia would be the thing that killed him. The relief you felt seeing his eyes open and hearing him talk was practically numbing.

“He seems stable for now,” the doctor announced. “The seizure was most likely caused by exhaustion, and the overload of drugs in his system surely didn’t help matters. I recommend hospitalization so he can be monitored for at least forty-eight hours.”

The pills. The damn needles. Dr. Nick swore up and down that it was all safe, but you knew better. The Colonel convinced Elvis that it would help him keep performing once he got tired. Elvis, ever the trusting man, defended his manager and the pills when you would express your concern. You two had gotten into countless arguments on the subject. It always ended up with you crying and Elvis softly assuring you he was fine.

“You don’t gotta worry your pretty lil head about me.”

“No hospital,” Elvis slurred.

“You need to go, baby,” you insisted.

“Just wanna sleep, darlin,” he murmured. His grip tightens on your hand.

“I know. Soon, baby. Okay?” You tried to soothe him. “You can sleep at the hospital.” You comb your fingers through his hair to both calm him and yourself.

“Wanna go home—Graceland. Not—no hospital, baby.” He tries to sit up, but he isn’t strong enough to get very far.

“You’re sick, E.” You say as he starts to shake his head.

“Don’t leave-leave me. I’m-I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t leave me,” Elvis cries.

You immediately shush him and press your forehead to his. “I’m not going anywhere, E. I’m right here, I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart, baby,” you assure him.

—

Waking up in a hospital chair with your head laid on the bed beside Elvis wasn’t the best way to start your morning. The fact that you were exhausted didn’t help either. The night had been long, with convincing Elvis to actually stay once you got him here and then him not being able to sleep for anything. He’d wake up almost every hour shivering and close to tears from delirium.

You were there every time to run your hands through his hair and soothe him back to sleep. Eventually, around five in the morning, he fell asleep and stayed that way. You drifted off not long after that.

You sat up and stretched your tense body. A glance at the clock on the wall nearby told you it was well after noon. You didn’t want to leave Elvis, but you were still in your clothes from last night, and you were in desperate need of a shower. Elvis should sleep for a good long while still, so you ventured you’d have enough time to run to the hotel and clean up a bit before he woke up.

You let the nurse know to tell Elvis where you’d gone on your way out, just in case he did wake up while you weren’t there.

When you arrived at the International, you swallowed your disgust and went up to your and Elvis’ suite. You showered in record time and threw on a simple outfit. On your way out the door, you decided to grab one of Elvis’ robes for him. Knowing he’d want something to wear besides the damn hospital gown, as he’d say.

Feeling refreshed and more awake, you practically skip down the hospital hallway. Anxious to be back with Elvis and just wanting to be there before he woke up. As you near the door to his room, you frown. It’s slightly open, and light pours out into the hall. Maybe the doctors are checking up on him?

Anger claws at you when you hear his voice, though. “Think of how disappointed your fans will be, my boy.” You can hear the Colonel reprimanding Elvis.

“Colonel, I’m sure the fans will understand why the show is being rescheduled.” Elvis responded in a tired groan.

Before the conversation can go any further, you push the door open. The Colonel turns from his position facing Elvis when he hears you enter the room. His aggravated expression quickly slips off and turns to one of pure contempt upon seeing you.

“Look who it is!” The Colonel expresses in fake enthusiasm. “Y/N is here. Maybe you can talk some sense into my boy. Convince him he needs to perform tonight.”

You cross your arms and scoff. “Like hell, I’m doing that.” You walk farther into the room. Pushing past the Colonel to be by Elvis’ side. His hand instantly found yours and tangled your fingers together.

The Colonel’s face draws into a grimace. “My boy must be on that stage tonight.”

You laugh unbelievably. “My boy is staying in this bed and resting. He’s exhausted, and he’s very sick. Probably thanks to you overworking him and those fucking drugs you keep pumping him full of. Forcing him to perform tonight is only going to make his condition worse.”

The Colonel stared you down like you were nothing but a piece of gum he’d scrape off the sole of his shoe. “You listen here—”

“No, you listen.” You interrupt him. “Elvis is not going with you. He’s not leaving this bed until he’s better.” You held your ground even though you were honestly scared of how this would turn out. The only thing that made you swallow your apprehension was the fact that Elvis needed you. He needed someone to fight for him right now. “He’s not a puppet on some stupid string for you to move whichever way pleases you. He’s a human being, and you’ve worked him half to death. He needs rest right now, so that’s what you’re going to give him.”

You could tell the Colonel was getting angrier by the second. His face was turning red, and his grip on his cane tightened ever so slightly. “You need to learn to stop sticking your nose into men's business, little girl. And that boy needs to get up and-”

Once again, you cut him off. “You need to leave, Colonel. You can see Elvis when he’s better or whenever he feels like seeing you.”

The Colonel shook his head, chuckling darkly. He looked at Elvis, who was openly glaring at him now.

“You are letting your wife make the decisions? She fights your battles for you now?”

Elvis looks up at you and tightens his grip around your hand. “She’s right. I’m in no shape to put on a show right now. I’ll pick back up in a week or so.” Elvis sits up slightly, and his free hand rises to point his finger at his manager. “And you best watch how you treat her. One more snarky remark or dirty look her way and you're gone.”

The Colonel stands there for what seems like forever. Glaring at you with the most unadulterated rage, but you stared right back at him. Eventually he decides it’s not worth it to try and argue anymore, so he turns on his heels and slams the door shut on his way out.

Elvis opened his arms to you, and you climbed onto the bed immediately. You wrapped yourself around him and pressed kisses to both his cheeks before settling on his lips for a few moments.

“Did I do the right thing, sweetness?” He hummed quietly, and you instantly nodded. You nuzzled into him and tangled your legs together; his arms came around you to tug you as close to him as possible.

“You definitely did the right thing, E. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles at you and reaches out a hand to caress your cheek. “I’m proud of you too, baby. Watching you tell off the Colonel was hot and a little scary.”

You gasp and laugh loudly as you swat at his chest. He chuckles and snatches your hand, laying it on his chest right over his heart. The heart that beats with love for you. His beautiful, somewhat scary wife.

I’m honestly really happy with this, and it was so comforting to write. As always enjoy! <3

[uldren-sov]

Erzsébet, Prince of Dusk

BY POPULAR DEMAND lolol Erzsy is first

It first depends on who are you are? Are you a courtier, a Prince, one who chooses to delve in politics and purple blooded curses who would meet the enigmatic Prince of Dusk, or are you one who chooses to dance along the tiles of rooftops than a waltz who would glimpse the golden eyed shadow against a night sky? Courtly intrigue on the one hand, as the 77 Princes are wont to do, and her name being an irrefutable ties with Syndicate houses which would make for a strong but infamous ally. Or the mysterious if roguish thief in leathers who may be friend and/or rival to you, a legend in flesh, if only known of in whispers --- Or perhaps you're lucky enough to see both sides to this coin.

Camy "Rosa" Rose

(As much as I love it I can't keep using that one comm of Camy, sorry Camy)

The neon lights, the dancing bodies, the pounding beat of a rock anthem all combined with the smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. With the silver-haired lead singers eyes on you, and you alone. Backstage and parties aren't all there is to the artist known as Rosa's life but it's one she's happy to have you be a part of. Or so it seems. Sex, drugs, and rock n' roll is the life, right? But do you only want to be a groupie for this burgeoning band, or do you want more from the fun-loving, easy-going rockstar in the making? When she sings when she finds you in the crowd, does the audience melt away to her like it does to you? Or is some long lost hurt of hers getting in the way of that? Before getting too close to Camy, you might realize why they say every Rose has its thorns. Also you might not need to defeat 7 evil exes but one evil ex named Seven

Synnaeth Ama'stacia

(some absolutely stunning art of synne as a gift ty SO MUCH AGAIN AAA)

Nearly two hundred years of perfection and poise has culminated into the elf before you; pay every mind to the silver scales along her skin, and ignore the rest if you please. Her lineage is what is important to her, the ancestry she and she alone can wield. She carries the ferocity and fierceness of frost in her facade and the weight of winter in her blood. And she is your companion on this adventure. Whether you indulge in her mithril-like hold on her power and emotions, or seek to reveal the tempest (and dragon) within is up to you! With her icy, perfect, demeanor she may not bother with such a dalliance, but perhaps there is a way to melt away the ice around her heart.

Naressa and Matyas under the cut!

Naressa

Run.

Not that it will save you. Not that it could ever save you. She is as inevitable as death and lo, it comes for you.

Or maybe not this time; for despite the darkness of her eyes and raven-like hair, she is not death, not today. Not now, at least. She is your companion and perhaps a blade to wield should her priorities align with you. Or perhaps you can see that it is not a void, but she is instead devoid of something and now seeks to fill it, to discover what it is she's lost, and through that is able to find some measure of herself -- and you.

Will death take you, or does death become you as her partner? Should you even take such a risk?

Mátyás Szervác

A sunny day and a strange hat, this traveler is only by for a short time. A traveling academic, he says he is, and for all his equipment and the book he scribbles in, it is easy to believe he is what he says. Or perhaps it is so easy because of his glittering charm?

Or that hint of a Zarkanian accent?

Zarkanian academics mean their mages: their devil-loving destroyers, who use the very magic of hell to warp reality into the blood-cursed Princes cruel design. But nothing about the man belies such an origin. Perhaps he is what he says, and perhaps -- while he is in town -- you can share nights and stories in equal measure. Or perhaps you can glimpse at the weariness, the loneliness of this hermit;

or how he is working on something far greater and far more deadly than any of his countrymen and their magic could dream of.

[the-fiction-witch]

Red and Blue

Media The Queens Gambit

Character Benny Watts

Couple Benny X Reader

Rating DARK

Warnings - drugs / drug abuse / mentions of SA / adult themes / medical emergencies

I yawned as I slipped my shoes on and ran a hand through my hair trying to keep my head on straight after only one coffee. I pulled open my door with force as it had gotten stuck again and began to slowly trudge up the muggy stairs, as soon as I got to street level I noticed a car parked behind mine loaded with items I hadn't seen the car before but I didn't think too much about it and just got my mail. Once I got all my mail I headed back down but I noticed the door on the first level was open, I know that apartment's been empty for months so out of curiosity I peeked inside. 

The apartment was much like my own a pretty bare-bones place, slightly nicer than mine given it was not as far down and damp, some boxes littered the place mostly with clothes spilling out, and I saw a girl.

Ooohh... Hello, 

She stood sorting things and unpacking into the apartment, she had this insane pair of platform heels on, tights, some little blue shorts, a white... I think I can call that a top, it's a small top or it's a large bra not confident which I would class it as, with a sheer black top over it, she hadY/H/C hair hung loose and sweet Y/E/C eyes, she was small, really small actually, but that body... holy hell I'd do anything to get my hands on a body like that. 

She spots me looking through her door and jumps a little, 

"Can I help you?" she asked, 

"Uhhh Hello,"

"Hello? Who are you?"

"Ohh uhh Benny Watts, I live downstairs." 

"Oohh." she nodded, "Hi," she offered her hand, "Y/n,"

"Nice to meet you," I smiled giving her hand a shake, "You uhh you just moved in?"

"Yeah today," She nodded, "How long have you been here?"

"A good few years now, it's a nice place I hope you like it. But just be careful when it rains you find the place gets very damp after."

"Thanks," she chuckled, "Luckily I won't be here all that much I'll most be at work, So you won't get any trouble out of me,"

"Yeah I'm away a lot so you likely won't get a lot of trouble out of me either," I laughed, "What do you do if you don't mind me asking?"

"Ohh I work nights," She said, "Uhhh down at glitter bomb," 

"Hu... cool" I nodded,

I could have sworn I'd heard of that place before, it rang a bell but I don't think I've ever really paid much attention,

"Anyway, I uhh... I'm just downstairs if you need anything so, I'll let you get back to unpacking," 

"Thanks, see you around Benny,"

"Yeah see you around Y/n," 

I headed down to my apartment and threw my mail on the side before sitting down at my table and letting out a sigh, 

"Hu... Hot neighbour, Cool," I nodded, before I glanced down at myself, "Oooh yeah... I went up in my kimono and jeans... Cool." 

I Forced myself out of bed trying to get back on a regular sleep schedule after being so jet-lagged from Paris, I headed across the apartment and made myself a coffee. I leaned against the counter as I sipped the sweet coffee and I perked up a little as I heard a noise upstairs, I heard the stiff door to Y/n's apartment opening and the clobber of heels on the floor above me, Hu... I hadn't heard her all night, and actually last I heard her was just before I went to bed I heard her heading out, Well she did say she worked nights which would explain why I don't see her much. But after a while, I heard footsteps coming down and a knock on my door, 

I perked up set my coffee down and headed to the door opening it with a shove,

"Ohh Hi Y/n," I smiled at her as she stood outside my apartment with a large black coat,

"Hey, I hate to be a bother..."

"no no, it's okay what's up?" 

"I just finished a double shift, and my hot water is broken. I just need to clean up I'll be like ten minutes do you mind if I use your shower?" 

"Ohh yeah sure no problem come right in," I told her letting her in and shutting the door behind her,

"Thanks I've called the landlord like six times about the water. I normally shower at work but it was so busy,"

"Yeah, the landlord is a cunt. Don't worry about it. Showers just there,"

"Thanks," she said, 

"You know, you'll never get anything out of the landlord, If you want I can pop up one afternoon when you're at work and have a tinker with your water heater see what I can do?"  

"Thanks but it's okay I'll call a guy next week when I get paid," she said as she slipped off her jacket and revealed her little white dress covered in glitter and shimmer, and her little boots which she then began unlacing, 

"If you're sure, but he'll wanna come while you're there, and you work nights? so do you really want some guy banging around your water heater while you're trying to get some rest before work?" 

"It's fine I sleep like death," she said kicking off her boots,

"Alright, I uhh I'll go sit in my bedroom-"

"It's fine. I don't care."

"You sure?" I chuckled,

"I really do not care," she laughed slipping off her dress and revealing her naked body covered in glitter and body shimmer, my eyes went wide as I tried to take in every single inch of her, as she pulled her hair out of pigtails, 

"Uhhhhhhh... right... okay..." I gulped, as I looked her over. 

She climbed into the shower and turned it on pulling the curtain across as she began to wash, I did my best to not look but FUCK she was hot. God damn, I would sell my fucking car for that ass! I did notice how small she was, I could see her ribs, and she looked weak but beautiful. I felt very strange about it. I wanted to touch her, to throw her on my bed and make love to her, but I also wanted to take her to a doctor and get her a pizza. I mean... If she walked in with a pizza and said we could eat it and then have sex... I'd probably marry her. I'd marry any girl who did that. I sat at my table and did my best to bury myself in my chess board and my coffee trying my best not to stare even if I REALLY wanted to. 

"So uhh how was work?" I asked trying to break the tension,"

"Fine, I worked a double shift so my feet are killing me,"

"Maybe you need some new shoes? maybe get yourself something a little lower?"

"I have to wear six inches or higher," 

"Ahh... for work?"

"Yeah,"

"Ohh... What uhh what do you do exactly?"

"I work at glitter bomb,"

"Yeah, uhh that a clothing store? A resturant?"

"It's a club," she said turning off the shower,

"A club? Ohh you a waitress then?"

She opened the curtain revealing her clean naked body dripping with water, "A dancer." she said, "Could you grab me a towel?"

"oh... Uhhh yeah..." I nodded getting up from my seat fetching her a black towel and handing it over, "Soo uhh you dance? At glitter bomb... in six-inch heels... all night?"

"Yeah," she nodded drying herself off, 

"... This uhhh this club, you uhh you mind I come to see you perform sometime?"

"Awww, no not at all Benny," She nodded, "I'm working again tonight if you want,"

"you are?! You just did a double shift,"

"Yeah I'll be fine," she shrugs getting herself a small dress from her bag which she changed into once she dried off, "Thanks for letting me borrow your shower, Benny,"

"Don't worry about it Y/n, if you want as your heating is down too you can sleep down here?"

"You don't mind?"

"No, no not at all, you can sleep in my living room," I told her,

"Thanks that would be really nice," 

I nodded and fetched the airbed from my bedroom and got it set up on the living room floor for her, "Here you go, and if you need another blanket let me know,"

"I will do," she nodded, "Thank you, Benny," she smiled giving my cheek a kiss which made me blush a little but I stopped short as she sat on the air bed and put two bottles on the table one red bottle and one blue, both filled with little pills, 

"...What are those?" I asked, 

"My pills."

"Pills?"

"Yeah, I take them every day."

"For what?" 

"Well, I take them from the red bottle for energy, they keep me awake, help me dance, make sure I can... function,"

"And the blue bottle?" 

"They help me sleep, calm me down, basically counteract the red ones."

"Uhh... okay... What are they?"

"Just medication." She shrugs, "Why?"

"Just curious," I told her,

she nodded and opened the blue bottle, she took two of the little pills from the bottle and forced them down without even a drink. Once she swallowed them and put the lid back on the bottle, she sighed and laid herself down on the airbed. "Goodnight Benny,"

"Night Y/n," I nodded,

I got back to my board and got on with some work for a while she tossed and turned until I looked up again and noticed she was dead asleep, she lay in the bed the blanket hardly over her as she breaths shallowly and her body still, as if she had fallen into a dead sleep, I picked myself up and walked over she didn't stir or even notice. I pulled the covers up her and again nothing as if I had never even noticed, I put my hand on her neck and for a few seconds her heart seemed strange but not enough to call an ambulance over, so I sat in my chair and kept an eye on her for a good few hours. I couldn't take it any and I grabbed the little blue bottle but the label had no information, no ingredients, no name, she didn't get these from a doctor that much was obvious. So I set the pills back and sat keeping an eye on her. 

I parked up my car and climbed out with a sigh, As I did I saw Y/n all but bouncing down the street in her little plaid skirt and a tie-up shirt, herY/H/C hair in a ponytail, barefoot, and clearly... on fucking mars.

"Uhhh Hi Y/n,"

"Benjamin!" She giggled running over and jumping on me,

"Whoa! Hello... how uhh how are you doing?"

"Tree-men-dous..." she giggled, "tree... men... Benny..."

"Yes?"

"Are you a tree man?"

"A... A tree man?"

"Yes... so tall," She said patting my head, "And so fluffy," She giggled stroking my upper lip,

"Okay... are you alright Y/n?"

"I was meant to work today,"

"why aren't you at work?"

"Work... be clothed...."

"clo- closed? why is work closed?" 

"Mices..."

"Mice? Ra- Rats! Your work is closed today for rats!"

"Big mices..."

"Okay, so why are you in the street?"

"I already took my work pills..."

"...Ahh... okay..." I nodded, "Come on Y/n, I'll get you to bed." I told her putting my arm around her and taking her down to her apartment, I took her inside and laid her in her bed, "You get some rest I'll make you some coffee." I told her before really looking around her apartment, she had no food, no coffee or tea, everything was clean and tidy but her shower which was covered in glitter, her bed was half broken and the sheets hadn't been changed in months, the bed stained without its sheet, she had clearly lost her bladder while in it more then once, she had stacks of her tips and pay on the coffee table, the place was so strange but it was obvious why, she takes her pill goes to work high as a space station and works in this state of altered reality ecstasy, then comes home takes her pills and falls as low as a mine shaft lays in her bed and sleeps until it all starts over. She doesn't cook. she doesn't clean. she doesn't entertain or have friends over. She works herself stupid, comes home and lays herself on her bed too out of it to even make it to the bathroom. I changed her bed for her and made the apartment as clean as I could getting her some groceries and such. All with her bouncing around like a child, before I sat her down and tried to help.

"Y/n?"

"Ummmmmm?"

"Are you okay?"

"Spectacular..."

"Because of your pills?"

"Mhm," she nodded lying around her sofa happily,

"Where do you get these pills, Y/n?"

"Dylan."

"Dylan? Your manager?"

"Dylan says I dance best with my pills,"

"...Y/n how long are your shifts?"

"I work from four to nine," she giggled,

"Four to nine? That's sixteen hours? How are you even able- You're able to dance and work sixteen-hour shifts becuase of these aren't you? If you don't take them you can't stay on your feet?"

"No... I will fall down..."

"Yeah from fucking exhaustion, how many days a week do you work?"

"...All,"

"All? Do you work sixteen-hour days, seven days a week? Y/n that's illegal! let alone unethical! Are all the girls on these?"

"We like to share..."

"Okay..." I sighed, "What about the blue pills? they put you to sleep?"

"Coutnerating"

"Co- Counteracting? So they bring you back down. Can... can you even sleep without them?"

"Nope. Only blue sleeps."

"Y/n... do you... like taking these? They make you manic, make you work your ass off, you don't eat, hardly even able to sleep, you don't have a life outside of this... do you like it?"

".... No... but it's work," 

"Do you want to stop?"

"... I don't know,"

"Would you want me to try and help you to stop?"

"I... I don't know-"

"Well, what do you want Y/n, anything in the world what do you want?" 

"... peace." she said, "for a while,"

"What does peace look like?"

"the sunset... birds in the sky... ocean as it kisses the sand... the warm gentle wind..."

I smiled a moment and took her hand, "I travel a lot, you know that have you travelled much?" I chuckled, 

"I've never left New York..."

"Well... I know that the best most beautiful beach I have ever seen in the world is this little place in Hawaii called Hanauma Bay, there is this beach and it is beautiful the sea is clear, the sky stretches for miles with hardly a cloud, the sand is that sweet golden colour that feels like your walking over pillows," I explained, 

"It sounds like heaven," 

"It's close. You know... I could take you someday? just you and me. Would you like that?" I asked and she nodded, "Okay, How about we make a little deal? You can stop taking these, and I'll help you, and once you feel like you don't need them anymore, I'll take you there. I promise." 

"You mean it?"

"I mean it. I swear it."

"Okay," she nodded, 

I woke to a loud banging on my door I got up and rubbed my eyes slipping my kimono on and forcing open the door where I saw Y/n in her nightie shivering and crying,

"Whoa whoa! Are you okay!"

"I... I can't remember how to sleep..." she shivered,

"It's okay, come on" I let her in and hugged her,

"I need my-"

"No, no I know it's scary. But you promised you'd keep your blue pills down here with me just for this weekend." 

"Please... please Benny I can't sleep,"

"How about just for an hour, you come lay in my bed. if you still can't sleep... you can have one pill. if not you just get some rest and I'll carry you back to your bed okay?

"...okay"

"good girl, come on," I cooed taking her to bed with me, I tucked her in, gave her the best pillow and laid down with her I stroked her hair softly and let her cuddle me as much as she wanted, "You still up from work?"

"Mhm,"

"How many did Dylan make you take tonight?"

"Four..."

"Okay..." I sighed, "Did he come back with you tonight?"

She nodded,

"Okay..." I sighed trying not to groan at the thought, Dylan did this a lot he'd come home with her when she was too off it to say no, 

"You don't mind me staying?"

"Not at all," I cooed, "You're safe here with me. I promise," 

"Benny?"

"yes, Y/n?"

"Could I kiss you?"

"... you don't have to do that-"

"I want to,"

"only if you're sure it's what you want."

"I'm sure,"

"Okay," I nodded 

I didn't move I let her come to me, and she moved close giving my lips a soft kiss, I kissed her back softly and gently, but she tried for more but I moved back,

"No."

"But-"

"Y/n No."

"...don't you want to?"

"I want to..." I gasped, "But not when you're like this." I whispered, "When you feel yourself again, then we will. But not until."

"Okay..." she nodded cuddling up to me and soon enough she began to drift away, "Thank you, Benny,"

"You're welcome Y/n," 

I headed through the city, I promised Y/n I'd pick her up and take her for breakfast, I found Glitter bomb and headed inside. I didn't need to pay the cover as the door guy knew me fairly well now, I headed inside the dark and smoky room, the floor covered in glitter. Men who had been here all night looming like dogs at the bottom of stages, The girls covered head to toe in body shimmer, with chunkier glitter across their breasts as was the gimmick here. I headed to the corner stage popular as always, with the silver pole in the centre. 

Y/n danced there, I admit she looked beautiful as always, Her hair pinned up in a bun with shimmer and iridescent glitter glued in, her pale skin coated with silver body shimmer giving her almost a robotic look as her skin shined and shimmered. Her breasts were covered in iridescent glitter glued to her breasts like pasties, and a pair of white glittery panties all that concealed her, in eight-inch iridescent platform heels, she danced and took her tips quickly. I went over and waved at her, and she smiled and continued her dance part of me was struggling to see if she really saw me, she was out of it as she often was at work, she always took her red pills before work to 'help her have the energy to dance' even if they often meant she was off planet. But her boss Dylan insisted on it, half the time I thought he hated me, and just wanted to undermine me, as I'd get her to slow down for a few days and then he'd take her in for a double shift and pump her full of god knows what. 

Once she finished her dance she went backstage so I went to the stage door luckily he let me in too, so I headed back and found her at her vanity, 

"Benny!" she giggled,

"Hi Y/n," I smiled kissing her head, "Are you ready my little dancer, for a waffle?"

"waffles!" she giggled, 

"come on get changed and we'll get going,"

"Can we have French toast too?"

"If your quick yes."

"whoa- whoa- what's all this then?" Dylan laughed as he came back, "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"We're going for waffles!" Y/n giggled,

"Aww honey you have a shift remember," he told her,

"Uhh no she doesn't." I snapped,

"Yeah, she does. she just got here."

"she's been here since four yesterday I know. I brought her."

"no, no she just got here. sit on down and do your make-up so you can get out on time,"

"But... but Benny you said it was time for waffles?" she asked,

"It is time for waffles, I'm taking you for breakfast just as I promised." I told her, "He's trying to make you work a double without telling you. Or paying you."

"Dylan!" she complained,

"How about you back the hell off Benny,"

"How about you leave her the fuck alone." 

"she's my employee,"

"she's my girlfriend."

"Fine. She can go." he sighed, "but you're not having waffles. you need to stay skinny."

"She can have one waffle." 

"No, she can't."

"Yes. she can."

"She puts on a single pound she hasn't got a job here."

"Fine." I glared, "She doesn't need your job. come on Y/n," I told her, 

I sighed as I cradled Y/n in my arms she had gotten the jitters again so I held her tightly to stop her from hurting herself as she shook and trembled, I could feel her crying into my shirt so I kissed her head and did my best to make her feel safe, warm and comfortable. But she was struggling so badly with violent mood swings since she stopped taking the pills completely, I was proud of her, but also very scared for her. She was getting somewhat better, she was going full days without her pills, and she was gaining weight again, but she was having these horrible episodes of panic and violent swings,

"shhh shhh shh... it's okay... it okay Y/n,"

"Benny I'm scared...."

"I know It's okay, I'm going to keep you safe,"

"I love you..."

"I love you too," I told her giving her a sweet kiss, 

I sighed as I sat reading my book when Y/n kissed me and got up heading towards the bedroom. 

"where are you going?"

"To bed," she said sheepishly,

"Alright, have a nice sleep sweetheart,"

"I will," she smiled, and as she headed into the bedroom I heard the clatter of the pill bottle,

"Y/n."

"Yes, Benny?"

"You said you were going to try and sleep without them tonight?"

"Can I just try one more night?"

"you promised," 

"Please!"

"No. You promised not tonight."

"Benny!"

"Y/n No, you are doing so good please just one more night if you can't handle it tomorrow you can have one."

"That's not fair Benny!"

"It's very fair,"

"No! I need them!"

"You don't need them," I told her, "You've slept so well this last week, without your pills,"

"Benny please! I need them,"

"No. You are not having them tonight." 

"Yes, I am!"

"No your not!"

"Benny Let me have my pill!"

"no! You don't need them you not having them!"

"What if I go. then you can't stop me!"

"-what..."

"You can't stop me if I leave!"

"Y/n-"

"I'm going! and you can't stop me!"

"Y/n no..." I began, "You can't just leave,"

"I am going!" she demanded packing a bag,

"No, no Okay! Okay, you can have one pill."

"No!"

"What!"

"No. I am going. Then I can do whatever I want." she said putting her pill bottles in her bag and heading to the door,

"Y/n please," I began chasing after her, "Please just come back you can take them I promise!"

She huffed and rushed up to her own apartment even though she hadn't been in it in months, 

"Y/n!" I yelled but she slammed the door, "Y/n! please..." 

I hadn't seen Y/n in weeks, I was so worried about her, I had tried to call her, tried to see her, even tried going to her old job but I never got to see her. I headed down the street tempted to get myself some pizza for dinner, I cut through an alley and I saw a box and someone shivering inside,  I glanced at them and felt bad, but I froze up as I saw herY/H/C hair. 

"N-Y/n!" I moved to see her,

"B- benny..." she shivered, as she sat protected with a box and blanket around her, 

"Ohh my god- What happened?"

"I- I-"

"It's okay, it's okay. Come on I'll take you home with me,"

"No, I have a shift,"

"A shift? Oh my- You went back to working at glitter bomb!"

She nodded, "Dylan gave me my job back..."

"so you're still taking the pills?"

she nodded, 

"You're still dancing?"

"I am,"

"I thought you wanted something better than this?"

"This is what I'm worth."

"No, you're are worth far far more than this Y/n, You're smart and beautiful, and you deserve so much more than this," I told her, "Come on you can come back and sleep in my bed, I'll run you a hot bath, we can get as much pizza and waffles as you want, just come back. And I swear to you I will keep you safe, give you a life better than this, and we can take that trip? like we always promised?"

"I have a shift... I'm sorry Benny," she said gathering her stuff and heading down the street towards the club, but I was not letting her walk away again, I followed her, all the way to Glitterbomb. 

The bouncer refused to let me in like he used to so I had to pay double cover for him to let me in. 

I tried to go backstage but they wouldn't let me, so I had to wait I sat by her usual stage and I could see Dylan talking to her backstage belittling her, I wanted to run back there and deck him. He forced her to take more red pills and forced her out as the music began. I tried to talk to her, tried to reason with her but she wasn't even in this universe. She must have been taking them while on the street, I can imagine why I imagine it's the only way she'd even sleep out there and now after he shoved her full of even more she was a new level of out of it. I'd never seen her so bad, I tried to reason with her but she didn't even know it was me. 

I couldn't leave her, not like this. 

suddenly as she did a spin she fell to the floor, her body began to contort and tremble worse than I had ever seen,

"Y/n!" I bolted to her side, Dylan came over but I pushed him away, "She needs an ambulance! someone call an ambulance now!" I demanded as I felt her heart jumping and bucking before she suddenly stopped. "No... no no no no..." I muttered I quickly did my best to restart her heart I know I was hurting her but I couldn't stop I felt her heart start again and I cried I was so happy she was okay, moments after the ambulance arrived and whisked her away. I got the name of the hospital from them and bolted home getting in my car and driving to the hospital.

I sat in the waiting room for hours watching people come and go, but no news. I was close to giving up but I just wanted to see she was alive. A nurse came over and I perked up having been sleeping on my jacket.

"Benny watts?"

"Yes!"

"You came in looking for Y/n correct?"

"Yes. yes, that's right is she okay!"

"she's just woken up now."

"...Ohh thank god,"

"she has said you can see her if you'd like?"

I nodded and followed the nurse through to a small room where Y/n sat, they cleaned her up but she looked terrible, barely alive, cables and tubes coming from her, she was so small I could see every bone, her hair thin and falling, 

"Y/n... ohhh sweetheart, what have you done to yourself," I muttered crying as I sat beside her and took her hand, 

"Benny..."

"It's me. It's me I'm right here."

"I'm sorry-"

"You have nothing to be sorry about. you hear me."

"Benny... I don't want a life like this..."

"I promise you if it's what you want. I will throw those pills down the toilet and I will be here and hold your hand every step until you are better. I will give you a proper life, no more dancing, no more pills, no more Dylan, no more street corners, Just you and me. I will keep you safe, and I'll do everything we always promised becuase I love you. But you have to promise to try. to promise to work with me. if you want this life with me I will stop at nothing to give you it,"

"I do..."

"That's my girl," I cooed kissing her forehead, "I won't leave your side, not for a moment my love." I cooed kissing her hand, 

"I love you, Benny..."

"I love you too" I cooed, kissing her lips,

"You'll really help after everything-"

"Of course I will,"

"Will you still take me to that beach you promised?"

"I promise I will, as soon as you're better."

I yawned a little as I was pretty tired, watching the view. The sweet sunset across the sky, the infinite stretching sea, the soft sand below me, my hat on my head to keep out the sun as my elbows kept me up to watch the waves and sky, the heat warm and cosy, everything so happy and content.

I felt Y/n sit down with me and I looked at her with a wide smile, seeing her with her toes in the sand, her little blue bikini, her body nice and smooth so much so I felt a desire to tickle her tummy, herY/H/C hair up in a bun, her sunglasses still on her face. 

"Hi," she giggled,

"Hi," I smiled kissing her, "What have you got there?"

"waffles with strawberries and ice cream," 

"Ooohh May I?"

She smiled and offered me a fork full,

"Ummm that's good," I smiled, "a lot of strawberry syrup though sweetheart," 

"I like it,"

"I'm glad you like it," I smiled pulling her so she could rest on my shoulder, "Worth it?"

"All worth it," she smiled kissing my cheek,

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Let us now consider another trait of the average ex-convict which is of great significance. Without his knowledge or volition (except in extremely rare cases), he has the tendency to revert to previous states of living, or of development. In this connection it must be borne in mind that in prison the social, mental and emotional development of the criminal has been sharply arrested. As previously stated, the paucity of social, mental, sexual and emotional contacts prevents the young prisoner from achieving maturity, and prevents the further growth of even the older one. (The average prisoner of to-day is so young that it is wise, for the moment, to consider the problem from this point of view.) He comes out of prison, therefore, pretty much the same callow, immature person he was when he entered, with the additional handicap of having suffered a partial or total incapacitation or at least a weakening of his powers of adequate response to stimuli. Not only that, but in his raging hunger for the woman, he has inevitably raised her to a place of exaggerated importance in life: so much so that in the initial grip of his lust he is almost ready to grovel at her feet, helpless in the face of her power to appease his wild desire. Unable to face her unself-consciously, he is obliged to hide his passion behind a smirking mask of hypocrisy.

Worse yet, although he thinks of life and people as they were in the pre-prison years, the world and the persons in it have greatly changed. He finds, too, that he himself has greatly changed. For although he feels the same youthful needs and hungers, he finds himself unable to feel the same responses. He is overwhelmed by a sense of futility, of loss, of being out of touch with persons, events, life. It is partly a poignant nostalgia for the old days and an overwhelming regret for the lost years, the wasted mind and the unrecoverable wastes and losses of the prison years. He finds himself enswathed in layers of numbness caused by malnutrition and prison stupor.

He cannot feel anything except the most violent and exciting emotions or events or people. In his unconscious efforts to free his body and spirit of this coating of numbness (anhedonia, as Doctor Myerson calls it in his splendid paper on that subject), he will plunge himself and his friends into the most outrageously impossible situations (so strong is the unconscious urge to make his presence felt, to convince himself and his friends that he is actually alive). All of which helps to explain why it is that the average ex-convict, still in the clutch of prison stupor, seeks to pierce the anhedonic fog with artificial stimulations: drugs, fiery liquors, passionate women, the noisy, glittering gaiety of night clubs and speak-easies. To do this, of course, requires money. Usually penniless, but usually determined also to have the fling for which he has lusted so long, the average ex-convict may react in some of the following ways.

He may feel so cheated of the joys to which looked forward, so angry at the failure of life to compensate him for the ordeal of imprisonment, that he will turn like a hounded fox upon the environment which frustrates and badgers him and seek revenge at the point of a gun. I have heard any number of ex-convicts say (and they so nearly use the same words that it is practically a pattern):

"Listen! You know what prison is. You've been in the can yourself. You know what a man's up against when he comes out. I don't have to tell you. Well, here's the way it is. I went through hell for seven years. I hardly drew a comfortable breath the whole time I was there. I got lousy food, a stuffy cell, a rotten job where I couldn't even learn a trade, and had to take a lot of cheap crap from a lot of half-witted screws (guards) who wouldn't even dare to speak to me on the street, let alone try to bully me not out here, where it'd be man to man. All right. I went through all that torture. For what? For stealing a few lousy bucks from some rich bastard that's got as many dimes as Rockefeller. Even if it's wrong to steal everybody does it, judges and all; and what about guys like Sin- clair, who had Martin Littleton and a few million bucks to keep him from going to prison even if it's wrong to steal, that doesn't give the dirty bastards the right to keep me cooped up like a dog for seven years, half starved, never seeing a woman, never having a chance to live. Well, by Christ, I'm going to live now! And I don't give a good goddam where I get the money to pay for my fun only, somebody's going to pay, believe me. If any of them lousy screws had anything worth stealing, I'd certainly love to make them pay for it. But anyhow, I'm going to make up for those seven years. They ain't going to use me like a yellow dog for seven years and get away with it. No sir. They've had their laugh. Now I'll have mine at their expense and we'll see who laughs the loudest, or the longest, or the last."

He may break down completely out of sheer disappointment and a sense of the futility of all effort, and fall prey to a most fearful inferiority-martyr complex, taking flight into the prison stupor in which (consciously or unconsciously) he sought refuge during the prison years. I have seen such men: puling, whining, altogether weak and inadequate, their spirits broken by imprisonment and the inability to achieve readjustment. I have heard them say, "Jeeze, what can a guy do? They's no work, and a guy can't take a chance gettin' pinched under the Baumes Laws. If he's an ex-con they'll throw the whole book at him and bury him for life." Beaten, defeated by circumstances, these men are likely to become derelicts and drifters, eventually to land in institutions for habitual drunks, drug addicts, and other misfits who have to be supported by the long-suffering taxpayers.

Or he may become so egregiously dissatisfied with the new environment (which is uncomforting and embarrassing, which frustrates his desire for sexual pleasure and rich living) that he will commit crimes, even when he has a very sincere desire to reform, which are unconsciously motivated by a desire to return to the prison environment. This, at first glance, may seem incredible; but I am sure that a more careful consideration of it will reveal its fundamental truth. The ex-convict, let us say, finds himself unable to get work; he will not hit the bread lines; without money, he cannot keep up even the pretence of respectability which is necessary if he is to delude his immediate associates, who know nothing about his prison record.

This makes life dissatisfying, incomplete, humiliating. In the new world he has no place, no security, no reputation. What he seeks when unconsciously desiring to return to the prison environment is, not the hateful cell, not the stuffy shop, but the feeling of security, of safety, of freedom from the stress and strain of a life he finds too difficult. He seeks the old world to which he had become stuporously accustomed, in which he had a meager but definite place, a reputation, friends of his own kind, and those other things in life which help to bolster up the drooping ego.

The ex-convict, thus, is essentially the convalescent. Prison stupor, as I have tried to show in another chapter, is a very real and dangerous disease. Its deplorable after-effects - bodily and spiritual anemia and atrophy, anhedonia are not to be thrown off in a few weeks or months. In fact, I doubt if any man who has served even five years in prison will ever succeed in fully getting free of its griping clutch. The newly liberated prisoner, therefore, is like any patient just out of a hospital: he is weak and ineffectual a convalescent. He is able to go through the less complicated motions and gestures of living, but there is actually very little life and strength in his devitalized, desire-torn body. He is a hollow shell, a fuel-less engine. To revert to the original metaphor: the animal suddenly freed after long captivity will need a great deal of time and exercise before it recovers anything like the full use of its various faculties."

- Victor F. Nelson, Prison Days and Nights. Second edition. With an introduction by Abraham Myerson, M.D. Garden City: Garden City Publishing Co., 1936. p. 257-262.

[the-masked-ram]

Blurred Lines- Chapter One

CW: NSFW, College AU, Roommate AU, Dom/Sub Undertones, Gambling, Friends with Benefits, Enemies to friends, Hate sex, Impact play, Mild Breath play, Drugs, Alcohol, afab! reader

--- Chapter One: Rent Not Necessary

The ad had been clear enough, relatively simple honestly. It sounded like a dream opportunity for a poor college student like you who currently lived off peanut butter sandwiches and ramen. Maybe it was too good of a prospect. Especially when the words, rent not necessary in exchange for housework, popped up at the end of the advertisement.

Usually that threw red flags, it probably did throw them in your logical brain. But you were currently living on minimum wage with a job just barely hitting the double digits in hours. School had gotten crazy this quarter and you were hurting on sleep, on extra hours to eat, and just generally minutes to drink anything. So you shoved those inner warnings into the shadows of your mind, and set up a meeting for your future possible roommate.

The café the two of you agreed on was close to campus, and you had managed to carve out thirty minutes between classes of free time. At least you could grab a snack and something to drink before your next hours of hell.

You sat at the table, tapping anxiously against the fake wood. A slice of lemon pound cake in front of you and coffee with some doctoring to make it a bit more palatable. He said he’d be wearing an Iron Maiden shirt and have white hair… how old was he?

You nibbled at your pastry until the door opened, and your eyes snapped up to check once again. And fuck, was that him? That had to be him… he fit the description, but lord. He was smokin’. His face and ears glittered with gold, piercings catching the daylight through the large windows, his eyes a sparkling blue and his smirk lopsided, a mischievous set to his entire stance.

A shiver ran through you, completely unwanted but it was such a visceral reaction. Especially when he saw you and that smirk grew, his eyes flitting over your body and his tongue coming out to swipe his lower lip. It was odd, usually you never had the instant desire to run. But this time, god everything screamed it, tugged at your brain to listen this once, because fuck this man would eat you alive. Yet, you stayed rooted to the spot under his heavy gaze as he sauntered over. Suddenly you forgot that your class was now within twenty minutes. You dropped his stare, unable to stand the teasing glint in the blue depths.

“Hey,” he called to you. “You the one who answered the ad right? ”

You swallowed, your throat felt so fucking dry, “Yeah.”

You stood, introduced yourself, and offered a hand, he took the chance to size you up again, seeming to like what he saw he nodded and shook your hand, “Todoroki Touya.”

“So, Todoroki… I guess I will start with this,” you pushed a small folder towards him, holding your last two places of residence, two one bedrooms shared with another person.

It was also filled with recommendations, your schedule, and anything else relevant. He flicked through the papers with a lazy look one might first think was boredom, but since you were studying him, you watched his pupils flick across the page and his eyes narrow on certain lines. He was taking this seriously.

As he studied the papers, you studied his face and the many piercings that adorned his pale skin. He had one just under his lip, right where a horizontal labret would be acceptable though it was lower than most. It was a solid hoop of gold that was drawn tight against the skin, in the center of his lip sat a black hoop. On his left eyebrow was a stud that glittered with an icy blue gemstone. Maybe a blue diamond? He had three dermal piercings on the right side of his nose making the points of a triangle and his ears were adorned in a mix of studs, chains, bars, and hoops all ranging from warmer and colder golds to black.

This man definitely liked body modification, but he seemed so confident and smart, he wasn’t someone to place in a stereotype and underestimate. You were trying to busy yourself with drinking your coffee and eating more of your cake, struggling so so hard not to keep looking up at Touya. And you were failing.

“Do you have any questions for me?” he asked, leaning his cheek against his knuckles.

“Ummm, yeah a few, if you don’t mind?”

There was something that sharpened in his gaze as he focused on you more intently, “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise, would I?”

You shifted under the intensity of his stare but nodded shortly, “Alright, I don’t exactly know how far the commute is to campus? Wasn’t able to look it up yet. Do you know? Do you have any other roommates? And… was that thing about rent serious?”

He laughed, leaning against the booth and resting an arm on the back, “Yeah, I need someone to clean up a bit, cook some so I stop eating crap cause I get too lazy to cook for myself, I mean… you’d buy your own groceries and help out with internet cost, utilities as well. The commute is about, eh, I’d say fifteen to twenty minutes, even if you take the long train routes it’s only thirty. No other roommates, though I have friends over often.”

He tilted his chin back a bit to scrutinize you, “If you can clean, cook, and generally do some basics that I can’t always keep up with the room is yours. You seem quiet, your schedule would mean your gone more often than not, other than on Mondays and at night.”

You desperately wanted to agree, but this time the scream of logic seemed to get through and you said, “Can I see it? The room?”

His smile was easy, victorious, “Of course.”

--- Taglist- @arvandus --- If you want to read up to chapter 4 of Blurred Lines, want to get early access, or want some special original content check out my patreon! Link

[aerialsquid]

Void Parsley Sojourn

(Working Title: "Urianger Hotboxes the Rising Stones")

Summary: After finding his 'old Studium friend' in a random crate at the Rising Stones, Urianger organizes a small session of qunubu smoking to offer his comrades a moment's respite between the horrors they've seen and those yet to come. 

Warnings: Consensual and positively depicted use of recreational fantasy drugs, including by teenagers.

Pairings: Thancred Waters/Urianger Auregelt 

Other Characters: Tataru Taru, Alphinaud Levailleur, Alisae Levailleur

Notes: Sometimes you write something just for yourself, and Urianger smoking weed was one of those things. If you were wondering where your favorite Scion was during this, they were…off. Elsewhere. Probably having a lovely date with your Warrior of Light or something. Don't worry about it.

-----

The Scions had been a lot smaller (and in one hell of a hurry) when they'd moved from the Waking Sands to the Rising Stones, and cleaning out the back rooms was an ongoing affair. In the rare moments that any of them had time on their hands and no immediate crisis, Tataru would draft them into moving out at least a few of the boxes, assessing their keep/sell/toss value, and sorting them into the relevant bin. Alphinaud had been hiding from his sister's taunts over how many crates of unsold wind-up Alphinauds they still had left over from the Crystal Braves fundraising drives when he'd dipped into a box marked for Urianger and came out with something that glittered and clinked in his hands.

"Oh. It's…it must be some kind of artifact, yes?" Urianger heard the young man say in a faint and quavering voice from behind him. "A memento. From some old mission?"

Urianger turned and saw Alphinaud holding, with the care and nervousness one might use to hold a deadly viper, a beautifully decorated water pipe. The base, bowl, and stem were covered in delicate silver filigree with stars and moons, an ironic indicator of Urianger's later attire but purchased long before he had the courage to dress his own body like that. All his glint and flare had stayed locked up in his room back in those days, like his own body hidden away behind robes and goggles. 

"A memento of mine youth, perhaps," Urianger chuckled. "Thou hast grasped mine old comrade from the Studium."  The nervous young student who'd been entranced like a magpie by the hookah's silver shimmer seemed to be impossibly far away, as if Urianger's younger memories were merely stories he'd read in a book of a far different man. How adorable he'd been, and how naive, thinking he understood the full weight the world would put on him.

"Ah! You used it for…uh, experiments, perhaps." Alphinaud looked on the verge of having some form of minor stroke. Urianger carefully reclaimed the hookah from him before he dropped it or simply passed out.

"T'is a water pipe, my friend. Known colloquially as a shisha or a hookah. But I would assume from thine paled countenance thou art aware of it by reputation."

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