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tokusmuts · 2 years

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Final Boss

Characters: Hidden Male Character x Ruka Matsuda x Reina Kurosaki

Category: One shot, threesome, breastfeeding, anal sex, a little bit relate to their role in Ex-Aid

Words count: 1.7k

Enjoy!

Today was the final day of the Tokyo Open Street Fighter competition, and the final victory went to Reina Kurosaki - a genius gamer a.k.a my second wife. But what she cares about is not the trophy and the reward, but that after this contest she will have a long vacation with me and Ruka Matsuda - my eldest wife. The rewards of this tournament are simply extra pocket money. Fortunately, I was confident in her ability to go deep and invincible, so I calculated in advance to choose the right day to start the holiday. Let's talk about the tournament here, surely you are not here for a story about a person who has a passion for games and won a provincial tournament, right? Well then, let's get back to the holidays! The holidays started at a luxury beach resort, the owner of this place is also Ruka - my eldest wife so we are exempt from all expenses when staying here (although it doesn't matter to me whether you pay or not, but whether you are rich or poor, it is good to save some money, more or less. With a sea view along with an infinity pool, Ruka loves to take a dip in these pools, inside the house a Dolby Atmos stereo speaker system, an 85-inch screen and a PS5 are aimed at serving Reina's passion for gaming.

Ruka has been swimming around this pool for a while now and is still enjoying its clear blue water. I love every time I sit in places where the best of nature is rushing towards me from all around. Especially when it comes to the thought of dropping everything related to the schedules of my two girls - an actress and a gamer. But it's clear that I still haven't had much time to rest and I need some sleep now, especially since I had to stay up quite late last night to prepare everything and this morning the finals, then another few hours in the car and finally here. If I slept in the house right now, it would be an impossible task since Reina was still enthusiastically playing the game, so I had to use Ruka's straw hat to cover my face and take a nap on the raised round chair right next to the swimming pool. But as soon as I settled into the chair, the hat was taken off and Ruka gave me a light kiss.

“Sleeping at this time won't help you regain your strength at all! By the time you wake up groggy, who's going to help us have an orgasm?" - Ruka said

“You want me to regain my strength that much?” - I ask

“Both of us!”

“But looking at Reina, she doesn't seem to mind, does she?”

“He wanted to keep playing so he wouldn't lose interest after winning! Wake up and go eat!"

"It's mid-afternoon, it's so sunny, what are you going to eat?"

“Eat a badger meal!”

This is probably the first time I've heard of this meal in real life, I've only seen it mentioned in the movies before. But nothing to eat at this hour is better than a real sleep, so the three of us go to a local restaurant. Ruka, after drying her body, only wears a large shirt and Reina still keeps her jeans - Jeans jacket, jeans, and even bikinis are of the same material. The meal was a bit uncomfortable when I still saw some cameramen coming all the way here just to have photos sent to the newspaper office to post, but the two girls didn't seem to care much. Although I really wanted to eat just enough to stay in shape, following the wishes of the two girls from the beginning, I had one of the most filling meals all this month. But luckily I stopped in time or else I wouldn't even be able to stand. The meal ended and we left the restaurant at 4pm, it was still hot and the photographers were still following us so I had to call security to stop. It also helps us to be more comfortable in slowly going home so that the food in our stomachs is fully digested.

“You two seem to prefer activity to rest, don’t you?” - I ask

“We know you've been holding off for the past month so that Reina can focus on the competition! Now that we have an opportunity like this, we have to take advantage of it!" - Ruka said

“I know that, but from morning until now, going back and forth like this, there must be a time to rest!”

"We have to squeeze out all of your energy before we can give you a break!"

“Are you sure? I am the undefeated final boss!”

"If we can't beat you, at least you'll be exhausted" - said Reina

Fast-forwarding to the bedroom, I picked Reina up and kissed her before jumping onto the bed with Ruka. I was still on top of Reina and continued to kiss her while my hands were already starting to go down to their panties and stimulated both of their cunts. Ruka's moan was always extremely auditory, while Reina could only moan in her throat while still immersed in the deep kiss. Ruka also quickly pulled me away from the kiss to continue with her, she also quickly removed her white strapless bra. After I kissed her long enough, I moved down and pressed against her chest. I actively took care of her breasts while Reina also tried to reach up to suck on Ruka's other breasts. I put my hand inside both of their panties and then put my fingers inside the leaking cunts. Reina has also started to let out moans to blend in with Ruka, taking the opportunity to take off her bra and pull my head away from Ruka's chest to continue on hers. I also did not forget to speed up the in and out of my fingers below causing small drops of fluid to be sprayed.

“Ah…get it inside me first…I can’t stand it…ah” - Ruka said

Then she took the initiative to take off both her underwear and mine. I pressed Ruka down and moved my lower body to her side while still basking in Reina's full breasts. She also took the initiative to move closer to Ruka so that it would be more convenient for me to repeatedly smash Ruka's cunt. Ruka's cunt tightened around my cock making every smash sticky, plus Reina's plump breasts made it hard for me to pull away from anything. Ruka was being beaten repeatedly and violently, but she still managed to reach up to suck on Reina's other breast. The sticky sounds appeared more and more with the increasing speed of my punches

"I'm going to cum…Ruka-ah"

“Shoot them inside me…shoot them all in there…ah”

I jumped every time I shot Ruka's sperm inside. Then suddenly Reina removed my mouth from her chest, and Ruka pushed me down. The initiative now belongs to the two girls. Outside on the beach, the sound of vibrant EDM music stirs the beach but it seems to be nothing compared to the dark moans that surround this room. Now Reina is lying next to me while Ruka continues to play with my cock.

“Ruka, you're still good at this!

“Of course, if you want to be a doctor, you have to have dexterous hands! It's enough for you to attack, it's our turn to counterattack," Ruka said, moving her hand up and down steadily on my cock.

"Then I'll help you recover" - Reina said and sat on my face

Reina moaned again at my hard sucks on her cunt while she coordinated to move her lower body. As for Ruka, after stroking my cock long enough, she quickly brought it into her mouth, moving her mouth up and down so full that I was constantly stimulated. My hands clutched onto Reina's butt, but then she grabbed one of my hands and brought it up and placed it neatly on her chest, while she squeezed the other breast. But the stimulation from Ruka is gradually making me no longer able to hold my dick, I also gradually increase the force with each sucking on Reina's cunt.

“Suck it harder, please…I'm going to cum…ah” - Only Reina can signal

Reina's signal also allowed Ruka and I to accelerate together. In the end, I shot another round of sperm into Ruka's mouth and Reina also shot back another wave of liquid into my mouth. Reina wearily left my face and lay still beside me, and Ruka and I, after swallowing everything, pulled Ruka's body up and turned Ruka over, I let her kneel with both hands and legs and then slowly entered from behind her. Reina pulled herself closer to Ruka with the last of her strength and the two girls kissed. My cock after being put into Ruka's ass, resumed its work - pounding hard and fast. The sound of their lips touching and the sound of her bottom colliding with my groin became a perfect substitute for those groans. With one hand I grabbed Ruka's butt and patted it a few times from time to time, while my other hand went inside Reina's cunt to continue extracting every last fluid inside her. Ruka's ass really fits when attached to her body. Even though I tried to kiss Reina as much as I could, I couldn't stop Ruka from moaning in satisfaction every time I pounded my dick in and out of her ass. And then I shot inside of Ruka again, she was really exhausted and lay there gasping for breath. Reina, after having a gentle time, was also turned over by me on her stomach, she didn't have the strength to stand on both arms and legs anymore so I quickly put my dick in Reina's ass too. Reina's whole body is already so plumpy, so her butt is no exception. Reina just lay still and still let out some really quality moans before I shot the last drops of sperm inside her. I lay still between the two girls on the wet bed in many positions

"It's been a long time since I've been this happy," I said

“We still can't beat you though! Both me and Reina were defeated in turn” - Ruka said

"That's why I said I'm undefeated!"

“While on vacation like this, I want us to have more sex like this!” - Ruka said

“But who is responsible for washing the bed after each time like this?” - I say

"Don't worry, I can take care of everything!" - Ruka said

#toku smuts #ruka matsuda #matsuda ruka #松田るか #reina kurosaki #kurosaki reina #黒崎レイナ

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gayvillains · 3 years

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CRANKY

#I'M SO SAD AND CRANKY I HATE BLOOD WEEK #waking up at 4pm is simply not the one when I have to go food shopping

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

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Let’s Dance (Klaus Hargreeves x Reader)

A/N: Let's skip the pitchforks, I'm just going to go lie on broken glass of my own emotions. Although...y'all asked for this. (P.S. if someone can tell my incompetence how to add audio without it being a monstrously huge box, I’ll love you forever) Word Count: 1610 Content Warnings: references to death, serious illness, graphic descriptions of serious illness, HOLY FUCK SO MUCH SAD Now cross-posted to AO3: here

“Dance!” he called, shouting over the pounding base. “With me!”

His slight bow and his outstretched hand seemed out of place in the crowded club, red and blue lights flashing at seemingly random overhead. He teeth practically glowed in the steadier blacklights. Strobes reflected in his eyes, making his already manic expression seem even wilder.

The smart person would have said no.

You giggled, downing the rest of your drink and placing your fingers in his. With a tug, he pulled you to your feet and into the heart of the crowd. His hands found your hips pulling you flush against him. Your shirt rose up as you shimmied together and your heart thrummed when hot skin met feverish. The scope of the world seemed to narrow until it was just you and him and the music moving you, the rhythm helping you meld into one perfect, flowing being.

Somewhere, or rather somewhen, his lips were on yours and you breathed each other like air. He tasted of sweat and vodka and sugar, all raw and sharp and sinful.

You invited him back to your apartment. Maybe not in so many words, but you were beyond words now as you writhed and twined, bodies singing in a crescendo.

By morning, he was gone, and you were sure you would never see him again.

The radio crackled, a soft jazzy tune crooning through the room. It was the kind of song you could slow dance to in a kitchen with you lover in one of those perfect fairytale moments. Only this wasn’t a fairytale, you weren’t in your kitchen, and you certainly didn’t have a lover. You looked boredly around the hall from your metal folding chair, praying that the event would soon be over and you could leave.

“Hi,” someone said, sticking a hand in your face. “You look as miserable as I feel.”

“Your hand says ‘goodbye,’” you said bitterly. “You should listen to it and leave.”

“Or you could dance with me?”

The hand moved to be palm up in front of you, the man it was attached to bent slightly, the fur trim of his coat brushing against your foot as it bounced on your other knee. A thrill of recognition ran up your spine. You placed your fingers in his and let him pull you to your feet.

This time you were the only ones dancing, sweeping through the dusty church basement, earning disgruntled glares and confused laughter from the other mandated attendees of the charity event (you were supposed to be collecting and sorting donations for a rummage sale, but no one was bringing things and clearly none of you cared to be there). This time, when your bodies pressed together, it was an embrace. This time, you kissed him, a gentle kiss on the cheek to thank him for brightening your day when the song ended.

This time, as you emerged into the night, he was the one who invited you. Only it was less of an invitation and more of a plea.

“Come with me, stay with me. Love me,” he seemed to say, even though his words were just “I’m staying close by?”

And when his eyes shone the color of the cold Atlantic in the flickering street lights, just as sure to drown you, how could you refuse?

Days with Klaus stretched into weeks, into months, and suddenly it was going on two years sharing a cramped, shitty little apartment. Days with Klaus were more often nights, neither of you rising before 4pm if it could be avoided (and later, with you working your retail shift and waking him when you came home).

Some days glittered like stars and you danced. Some days you held him close as he tried to rattle himself apart, withdrawal or too strong a high equally capable of reducing him to a specter of tremors and sobs. Some days, he held you as cried, or more often simply stared out into a shadow world that only you could see, when the cruelties of the real one threatened to overwhelm you and you wanted nothing more than to sleep a dreamless sleep forever. Some days you screamed at each other, lungs burning with the intensity of your anger and your hurt. You thought about telling him to get out. You thought about begging him to never leave. You never said either one.

But most days, you just lived. Like any other young couple struggling to make ends meet and make their way in a world that couldn’t care less. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was yours, and you never wanted it to end.

And then it did.

You thought that the end of your relationship, when it came, would be brought on swift wings by an OD Klaus couldn’t come back from, or a proper prison sentence that you were too exhausted to wait for him through. You never thought it would be you.

At first you were just tired at night, you didn’t want to go out anymore, preferring a quiet night on the couch with your love. There was more watching, less doing. Dinner stopped turning into dancing.

You started to notice his fingerprints turning into bruises, even from the most gentle and reverent of touches.

You got so tired that you had to quit your job. Klaus found work, or some other way that you never asked about to make the money for rent and food that you lacked the appetite to eat anymore.

Most nights were spent with him holding you as you clung to him, desperate for contact, desperate for heat, desperately afraid.

You went to the doctor one day while Klaus wasn’t home. When he spoke, you stared at the sunny smiling face on the pain chart hanging on the cabinet behind him. You laughed bitterly, tears coursing down your cheeks. He asked you if you had any questions. You asked him for answers, for hope. He had none to give. So you walked out of the clinic, walked home through the snowy streets, your bones aching with every step.

You didn’t actually tell Klaus. You didn’t think you had to. The unfathomable sadness in his eyes told you that he already knew. You expected him to run. You knew he didn’t like death, hated it.

But he stayed. He cared for you as you shrunk down to a skeleton, as you struggled to keep even water in your system, as breathing became a fight, as your memory became cloudy. There were days where you couldn’t even remember his name, but you knew even then how much he loved you. He tried to keep your routine as regular as he could, to keep up spaghetti Thursdays and laying on the roof with him watching the stars while he smoked and talked nonsense and when he was really lucky you sang along to the soft, crooning radio. To pretend that you didn’t both cry yourselves to sleep more nights than not. He tried so hard for you.

One night, about six months after you began to get sick, you forced yourself to put on his favorite dress, even though it hung limply off your frame these days, and your favorite pair of bright red dancing shoes. He raised his eyebrows at you as you shuffled carefully down the hall, a soft, terribly fond smile gracing his face when you answered with a shrug. Your heart ached as you realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him smile, certainly not and mean it.

Slowly, you climbed out onto the fire escape and up to the roof of your apartment building, Klaus following close behind with his hands on your back and elbow to keep you steady. (He always managed to keep you steady, even when he was falling himself.)

You laid there on the flat plane, his fur-edged black coat as a blanket beneath the two of you. The haze of Klaus’s weed smoke floated through the air and the stars seemed to shine all the more for cutting through it. The moon was low and full, a watchful friend.

A soft, familiar note floated through the static of the portable radio above his head. You reached up to turn the dial, adding your own (rougher than it used to be) hum to the increased volume.

You stood up, reaching a hand down for him.

He frowned, puzzled.

You licked your cracked lips, more nervous than you had been in any of your days together.

“Let’s dance,” you said with a smile, tilting your head to one side.

He reached up and placed his fingers in yours, letting you tug him to his feet. Immediately, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, the two of you slotting together as you had every night of your lives, made for being in each other arms.

As you swayed, barely moving, you tried to pretend that even this little exertion didn’t make you dizzy and tired; he tried to pretend he didn’t feel the way you trembled, the way your heart fluttered unevenly. Your eyes met his, those oceans of emerald and sorrow, and you reached up, caressing his cheek with too cold fingers, your papery skin sliding roughly across his.

“I love you,” you murmured.

He said nothing as he dipped his head to press a gentle kiss to your lips, a kiss you never wanted to end, a kiss tainted with the salt of tears from both of you.

A kiss that only broke when you pitched forward into darkness, collapsing into his arms.

#alright so this is mostly from the Live at Glastonbury Let's Dance #but there are also influences of Fair (The Amazing Devil) and How 'Bout a Dance (Bonnie & Clyde)#also just the fact that my heart is full of sadness sometimes #Klaus Hargreeves x Reader #ANGST #whump #The Umbrella Academy fic #Big Sad #I am the Angst Fairy Godmother #I am an emotional masochist

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usernameslayer · 3 years

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Daily routine of an infp student, in a covid world

wake up

feel groggy, attend to bodily needs

which means drink some water and EAT! I need food RIGHT NOW! And it has to be something familiar that I've arbitrarily decided is acceptable as breakfast food, but everyone else thinks it's weird

avoid talking at all costs. simply nod to anyone saying good morning. or good afternoon if you woke up that late today

when they ask you a question, nod, point, avoid making noises if it's the last thing you will do

spend most of the morning putting yourself together and convincing yourself to not go back to bed. This may be accomplished by reading the news scrolling through twitter, showering, getting dressed, staring at your pet

casually put on some music and remember life is good! The sun is out, the world is beautiful, today you could take a walk in the woods, wouldn't that be wonderful?

let music bring emotions back to memory, dance around the house daydreaming.

have lunch and be forced to talk to the people you live with for the first time today

completely forget about the woods. take a nap because the two hours of lectures you had today were intense I guess

wake up from nap, realise it's past 4pm now

bake something and make some tea

try to be productive and fail

notice the sun has now gone down. Get sad. Remember life is a useless cycle. Nothing ever happens, we all just follow similar life paths and then die. Think about how depressing it is that that's all you're ever gonna do with your life. Think about how you want to fit into this routine, but just can't.

notice the strong emotions are gone, where did they go. How do I decide what I'm gonna do tonight with no feelings to guide me

am I even an infp if I can feel no feelings except for some very intense ones in that very short window of time

do I even have morals

decide nah you're probably just repressing them because of the way your istj and esfj parents raised you

think about how much you can't wait to be able to travel again and leave your parents because you love them, but home life is messing up your mental health

have dinner, bring up random topics to your family that you didn't even know you had thought about, or you'd completely forgotten you had an interest in

sit in bed and make a mental list of all the things you have procrastinated today. Feel guilty about them. Then recognise you'll never do them tonight anyway, might as well do something else

of all the activities and hobbies you could choose to relax, end up just laying in bed scrolling social media until you're too tired to continue and fall asleep

Repeat. For. Months.

#personal #routine #daily routine #infp #covid 19 life #student life #this is my personal routine not sure if it applies to all infps #also this is my non-exam-period routine #when exams come it's a whole other story #procrastination #this has been my life since march 🙃#music #gets me through it #and the internet

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ksj-com · 5 years

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Request #3

Missed Calls

- Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

- Genre: Long Distance!AU, fluff, light angst

- Warnings/Tags: anxious reader, kissing, cuddling, bad cook Yoongi, cuteness overload, pure fluff

- Word Count: 3,391

- Summary: You and Yoongi have been long distance dating for about a year now ever since you moved. You had to admit that it took some getting used to. But something is off today when he isn’t answering your texts or calls all day.

Your eyes peel open, the sunlight burning into your retinas. Placing your hand over your eyes to shield the sad truth that it’s time to get up. The phone sitting next to you was off, meaning the FaceTime with you and Yoongi must’ve ended during the night. He probably just ended it this morning when he woke up, you thought to yourself.

Almost every night you and Yoongi called to fill in on each others’ days and just talk about random things. After all, it was the closest thing you two had to spending time with each other now.

It has been almost a year since you guys have been apart from each other. Before, you both were together for a couple years throughout high school. You both have been through thick and thin together, but it was definitely the hardest obstacle when reality and the real world hit you both— growing up and living past high school. Everyone going their separate ways, people spreading their wings to colleges that are in places they’ve never been. It was just how it went for everyone— including you and Yoongi. Yoongi decided it was best for him to stay in Illinois for college, meanwhile you wanted to venture out to Minnesota. Not too far, but far enough for space from your family and your original home.

Even though there was distance between you and Yoongi, the relationship you had still remained. It’s definitely something you both had to get used to, but it works nonetheless. Calls every night and sweet texts throughout the day is what kept you both connected. You were grateful to not live on campus with a roommate because you’re sure they would’ve wanted to rip your hair out by now. All the long nights you two had talking to each other would drive anyone crazy. Working your ass off and saving money for your own little condo really pays off.

After rubbing the sleep off your eyes, you rolled over to your phone once again. Sliding your fingers across your screen you send a text to Yoongi:

Good morning babe ☼

And with that, one last stretch finally brought you to your feet. It was Saturday morning and you thought about the lack of things you had planned unlike other people. Having nothing to do made you even happier than going to parties, so your empty schedule didn’t really bother you. Other than a few groceries you needed to get, you looked forward to sitting in front of your TV and doing nothing.

To wake yourself up, you freshened up yourself with a quick shower. The warm water hitting your face made you want to crawl back in your bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Not having the motivation to put together an outfit, you slip on your comfy clothes. Your comfy clothes consisted of a slightly purplish grey cropped fuzzy sweater that slid past your shoulders and white sweatpants. The waistband of the sweatpants was folded down once, making you stomach visible. You pulled a thick pink cloth headband over your head to cover your forehead which looked a little big when your overgrown bleach blonde hair was placed into a ponytail. To finish your lazy look, you slipped on a pair of white canvas tennis shoes.

It was 10am when you glanced at your phone, wondering if Yoongi ever texted back. The screen showed an empty screen, but you shrugged it off— it was only an hour. Maybe he’s busy today.

Just as you were about to leave, you pour some food in a dog bowl and give your dog a praise before stepping out the door. Keys spun around your finger as you waited for the condo’s elevator to take you to the ground floor. Your phone addiction took control again causing you to check your phone again— still nothing.

As soon as you made it to your car, you blared some tunes. ‘Stuck With Me’ by The Neighborhood played as you backed out of your parking space and ventured out into the street. You tapped and sang along while driving until Starbucks caught your eye.

Thoughts of a Frappuccino and a cake pop made your stomach grumble from the lack of breakfast you had this morning. Starbucks’ drive thru was always slow, causing you to flip through a couple of your socials on your phone. Seeing that Yoongi still hasn’t even read your message, you decide to text him again:

Have anything planned for today?

Who knows? Maybe he simply missed the first text notification and he’ll see the second one. You sigh and toss your phone on the passenger seat.

The cash register takes your card and hands you your strawberry cake pop and caramel mocha Frappuccino. Devouring the cake pop in one bite, you were left sipping your drink on your way to the grocery store.

You shoved your hands in your pockets when you scanned the aisles of goods. Already having your necessities in your shopping cart, you found yourself in the snack aisle. Pulling out some popcorn and sweet Hostess boxes, you were satisfied with your cart.

Once you were back home, you were placing eggs in your fridge when you felt a buzz in your pocket. Hoping it was from Yoongi, you pulled out your phone— a stupid Twitter notification.

Noon. You sat in front of your TV with a grilled cheese in your hand. Clouds covered the sky in a dark grey blanket, and it wasn’t long before it started to storm outside. The perfect atmosphere to watch scary movies. You randomly picked out The Meg to watch seeing how it was one of the only scary movies on Netflix you haven’t seen yet. Blankets wrapped around you as you munch on food while your dog, Ollie, sat beside you.

“You’re just so cute,” you coo as you throw him a piece of bread crust. Since you lived alone, you needed the company of something. That’s when you decided to get Ollie. He was still a puppy, but he was growing into his full size. He was a Samoyed, meaning he had long fluffy white fur and a black button nose. He was your own big teddy bear when you missed cuddles from Yoongi.

You hugged a pillow to your chest and laid down next to Ollie, trying to push your worries away. After a couple minutes, you drifted off to sleep.

The brightness of the sun shining through the overcast weather woke up you up with a overdramatic stretch. During your nap, you headband flew off and your phone screen reflection showed that your face now had indentations where the pillow creased against your face. Clicking on your phone to illuminate the screen revealed that it was now 3pm and there was still no text back from Yoongi. Annoyance started to trickle within yourself.

He never did this. Whenever he was busy, he would let you know beforehand so you wouldn’t worry. Maybe he was hurt? You decided to try to call him. Your foot tapped the floor as you heard the rings turn into a voicemail.

“If it’s important enough, just leave a message and I’ll get back to you,” Yoongi’s voice said on the automated message. You roll your eyes and hang up the call before it went to voicemail. Stop overthinking this.

Scrolling through social media, you notice that he hasn’t been active since yesterday. He hasn’t picked up his phone at all today?

To get your mind off things, you pull out Ollie’s leash. He immediately gets the hint that you’re taking him for a walk as his tail whips back and forth. It wasn’t raining anymore and you had nothing else to do.

He pulls you out your door all the way outside where the chilly air hits your face. You walk past one of the older ladies in your building whose grown to be a best friend and mother figure to you while living here.

“Hello (Y/N)! How are you doing today, love?” she smiles warmly.

You slow Ollie down and pull him to sit at your sit while you talk. “Well...not so good. Yoongi hasn’t been answering my texts or calls all day and I’m kinda worried. I don’t know if I’m being too clingy or not.”

“I mean, you guys live states away. It’s natural for you to feel worry. What exactly are you worrying over?” she asks.

“A lot of things. I trust him but that thought in the back of my head still lingers that he might be doing something he shouldn’t. He could be hurt or in trouble. Maybe I’m just overthinking and he’s busy,” you hug your arms to your chest. It’s chillier than you thought it would be.

“Don’t assume, dear. It makes the waiting and worrying intensify. You’ll just have to wait and see. Best of luck to you!” she nods. You knew she was right, but it wasn’t easy.

“Thank you. I’ll see you later,” you wave goodbye. You let Ollie tug his own path until you couldn’t handle the cold anymore.

When you got back home, you plopped back onto the couch. Staring at the conversation between you and Yoongi, you couldn’t help but feel irritated. The first text you sent him was at 9am and it was now 4pm. Being so accustomed to texting him all day to make up for the fact you both couldn’t see each other, made the lack of texting bothersome and worrying. Just when you were thinking the worst, your phone dings.

Yoongi: Hey sorry. I was busy today. I made it up to you and delivered you something. Should be there any minute 😘

You were in the middle of typing a thousand questions, but the doorbell buzzed before you could click send. You opened the door expecting a box sitting at your door, but instead, it was Yoongi with a smile planted on his face. He held a bouquet of pastel pink and white roses in his hand. Before you could thank him and grab the flowers, you jumped into his arms. It’s been months since the last time you both saw each other due to work schedules and linking times.

You kiss him passionately as he twirls you around while you’re hugged into his chest. His lips press softly against yours as he holds you tightly to his chest. The moment you both let go, you were smiling ear to ear. He gestures the flowers for you to take.

“Found these on the way and they reminded me of you. Sorry about not texting. I was driving all day and I wanted it to be a surprise,” he smiles.

You brush it off, not wanting to bring up the fuss you would’ve made if he never ended up surprising you like this. As you placed your new flowers in a vase, he slid off his jacket. Thankfully, you weren’t the only one wearing your comfy clothes today. He wore a baggy white shirt with black sweatpants along with black slides and a pair of white headphones draped along his neck.

Once you set your flowers on your dining table, you go over to hug Yoongi again. This time he was able to hug you back completely, swaying back and fourth. You breath in his fresh cologne smell, the smell that he always wore.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you say into his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” He presses his lips against your forehead. “What do you say about us spending the rest of tonight binging netflix and eating snacks and tomorrow I take you somewhere special?” he says, cocking his head down to look at you.

“Ooo somewhere special? Like what?” you question.

“I did my research on this area and let’s say it’s another surprise” he kisses your nose.

You both end up ordering pizza, tossing Ollie a few pieces of crust when finishing a slice. American Horror Story played on the TV. It was getting close to Halloween, so it was time to binge watch scary movies all night. Once the pizza was devoured, you both laid down together. He laid behind you on the couch, arms wrapped around your waist as you faced the TV. His grasp pulled you in close enough that both of your bodies were pressed up against one another.

“It’s the little things like this that I miss the most,” he kisses your temple. His words made you melt into him— you felt the same way. You turn around to face him and cup your hands around his face. Brushing your thumbs across his cheeks, his eyes lit up as he looked at you. He looked so god damn adorable that you couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Eventually, when we’re both done with school, distance won’t be a problem anymore. That’s all I have to keep telling myself. I love you so much and I can’t wait for the future with you by my side,” you gush.

He takes one of your hands to interlace his fingers within. “How’d I get so lucky?” He could tell you were growing tired by the way your eyes drooped every now and again, so he shut off the TV to scoop you up in his arms. He lays you down on the bed where you pull the covers over yourself, him joining soon after.

Cuddling up to his chest, you feel him sigh contently before closing his eyes. “Goodnight (Y/N)...I love you.”

“Goodnight babe. PS this is way better than a FaceTime call,” you cause him to chuckle. His fingers traced lines up and down your arm before you both fall asleep.

Yoongi woke up before you, like usual. Tucking your hair behind your ear before waking you up. “Good morning sunshine. Let’s get ready for the day I have planned.”

You groan as you roll out of bed to get ready while Yoongi brings his suitcase of clothes up from his car. You wanted to actually try with your appearance today unlike yesterday. Pulling on a white knit sweater with the middle tucked into semi high waisted jeans with a hole slit on each knee. Pairing that with brown ankle boots and the same colored brimmed hat on top of your loosely curled hair.

“Ready,” you step out to see Yoongi wearing a grey sweatshirt, green jacket, and ripped jeans. His eyes crinkle together as he smiled brightly.

“You look perfect,” he takes your hand in his while you both walk down to his car to his first destination: a coffee shop.

“I thought it would be good to start off our day with some breakfast and I know how much you like your coffee,” he parks his car and you both walk in. The smell of coffee beans and sweets fill the room. He orders a breakfast wrap for himself while you order yourself a hot coffee and a cheese danish.

While you sipped your coffee and looked out the window, you heard Yoongi take a picture. Your eyes snap back to meet his and you tilt your head questioning him.

“I needed a new screensaver and you looked so picture perfect just now. I couldn’t resist,” he shrugs.

You couldn’t help but smile. He knew what his sweet words did to you every time he said them, yet he could never grow old of your gorgeous smile.

Thankfully, Yoongi advised you take your hot coffee to go because the next activity he had in store was apple picking. He always thought the idea of ‘perfect fall dates’ were cheesy, but he knew how much of a sucker you were for them.

You occasionally sipped your coffee to heat your body up on the chilly day, but once you were finished, Yoongi ran through the tree aisles with you on his back. You wrapped your arms around his neck while bouncing all over his back as he sprinted as fast as he could, drawing laughs out of both of you. When he finally let you down, you managed to find a few good looking apples to place into your basket. Of course, you both had to point out the rotten stepped on apples and say ‘that’s you.’

“Come here,” Yoongi whispered as he stood behind a tree. You followed him, not sure if he was going to point out another apple or something else.

He takes off your hat before connecting his lips with yours as he held the hat up to cover your faces from the cool wind. In that moment, everything felt in place for you two. Being together and so happy to be able to physically touch one another again made you both so grateful for this moment.

After picking out a few more apples, you both decided it was time to go back home and warm back up by cooking some apple pie. On the way back home you both jammed out to your favorite songs as his hand rested firmly on your thigh—something little that you’ve adored for the longest time.

•••

“It says to mix all the dry ingredients in the bowl,” Yoongi reads off of a cookbook ‘Baking for Dummies.’ Flour was already powdered on both of your clothes and the counters. It was safe to say that you both were terrible cooks and bakers.

Yoongi grabs the bowl and mixed everything with his hands since you couldn’t find a whisk for the life of you. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him trying so hard, yet looking so clueless.

“What are you laughing at, huh?” he smacks your ass, leaving a flour hand print on your jeans. You laugh, dipping your hands in the dry mixture and leaving hand prints on his sweatshirt. The kitchen was a mess, but it was a job for later.

Yoongi dipped his hands in again and grabbed your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss. You wrapped your hands around his wrists as your lips tangled together. The string of kisses stop from Yoongi’s laughs.

“This apple pie thing kind of failed,” he taps a circle of flour on the tip of your nose.

“I would have to agree with that,” you say as you look around to the powder mess scattered across the kitchen.

“I’ll make it up to you. Let’s change into some clean clothes and I’ll take you out to dinner and desert for tonight,” he smacks your other cheek to leave one last handprint.

After debating on where to go, you both decided that it would be a nice treat to go to The Cheesecake Factory. The chicken samosas you ordered were delicious, and just enough to still have room for desert. You and Yoongi decided to share a pineapple upside-down cheesecake.

“Thank you so much for today and coming to visit, Yoongs. You’re the best seriously,” you shove a spoonful of cake in your mouth.

“It’s not over yet. I have one last thing for you,” he pulls out a little box and flips the top open to see a skinny golden band with little diamonds in it. “Don’t worry, it’s a promise ring.”

You felt tears build up in your eyes as he slid the ring on your finger. He kissed your hand before you placed your hand out to admire the sparkle emitting from the ring.

“I figured that it was long overdue that I promise myself to you. I love you so much (Y/N) and I want you to know that, even if I may suck at answering your texts throughout the day, I still think about you every second. Now, when you miss me, you’ll have a piece of me with you at all times,” he holds both of your hands in his.

“I love you so much,” you reach over and lock lips over the table. A tear of joy falls from your cheek. The love you had for each other will always keep you together, no matter the distance between.

Requested by: I lost the usernames from the rest of my requests, so I’m sorry :(

#bangtan seonyeondan #bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jeon jungkook #jungkook #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader

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mechadress · 4 years

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Saw a literary challenge to write about one of your average days in quarantine. They picked Tuesday May 12th. Since all of my days keep blending together, I thought it would help me set a benchmark for how I handled quarantine. So here it is-

May 12th 2020,

My alarm goes off at 7am. I roll over to turn it off and promptly go back to sleep. This was a normal practice even before the world shut down. I don't have set hours at work, but I prefer to start around 8am. Since my work computer is only across the apartment, the motivation to wake up before I absolutely have to is extremely low.

8am rolls around and I can't bring myself to leave the bed yet. It all seems so pointless as no one seems to care what hours I keep and I don't have any early morning meetings. I scroll through Facebook and Tumblr on my phone, I check my email more times than I really need to, and pet whichever cat is closest, usually Sierra. I find a post from a page that I follow that talks about Victorian parlor games and I share it to the Steampunk group I administer. There hasn't been much content in the group for awhile. I wonder if it's because steampunk isn't as popular as it once was or if no one has anything to say. It gets a few likes and one 'Care' emoji. I think it's because it indicates that people miss hanging out together.

Around 8:15 I need to use the toilet, which is enough to get me out of bed and sign into my work computer. CY yells out from his work station at the living room table to remind me to buy the camper table and a spray bottle he wanted for grilling. I order them from Amazon and feel guilty about getting nonessential items in the middle of a pandemic. I spend the first few hours of work scrolling through FB or Tumblr and knitting. While I knit I watch an hour and half long youtube video from ContraPoints about different types of second-hand embarrassment or 'cringe'. I identify a lot with what she says.

I am knitting a pair of socks simply because I have the yarn and I've never done it before. I tested out the gauge to make sure I had the right sized needles and I do. They are long dpns that were given to me by CY's mother once she realized I enjoyed knitting. Apparently she used to knit as well, but it would hurt her hands so she gave up on it. I had tried to use the dpns as intended, even looking up a video and practicing a few times, but I kept dropping stitches and getting annoyed with them. I eventually decided to order a circular needle from Amazon to use instead. I felt very guilty about this since there's all sorts of post-people and delivery people out there who are at risk moving all these boxes around, and here I'm ordering a stupid pair of needles that are a duplicate size to ones I own, but I just don't want to use. The circular needles are extremely nice and easy to work with and it is a pleasure to knit the socks. I still use the dpns as a stitch holder while I knit the heel. Today I'm connecting the insole and knitting along the foot. It's easy and enjoyable work especially after already completing the first sock.

I eat a prepackaged ube cake while I drink my tea and appreciate the nice pairing of flavors.

I feel bad about not getting more of my actual work done. However, I can't bring myself to concentrate on anything related to work. I keep moving my mouse around every 10 or so minutes so it looks like I'm active.

An old D&D friend of mine named Sam posts on FB about how he is proud of his company for continuing to let people work from home despite Ohio loosening some of the Stay at Home restrictions. I reply "We were told to expect to work from home until at least August. I'm grateful since it's one less thing to think about." Sam and I go back a forth a bit more, expressing gratitude and an interest in meeting up again once its safe. It's the first I've interacted with him in about 5 years and it makes me glad to hear from him.

I start lunch early because I don't have anything better to do. For lunch I make myself and CY a sandwich. We have some really good Italian bread we got from the grocery store that we can make into a decent replica of a Philadelphia style hoagie. I already chopped up the veggies so I can just take them out of the fridge and start layering them on. CY likes his sandwich with mayo and turkey. I don't like handling either of those things, but it's easy enough. I make his first then make a veggie version for myself. We use the new hoagie oil which isn't as bad as I had originally feared, but it isn't as good as the name brand one we had before. Pity they were out of it at the store when we went.

My 2019 tax refund from Ohio lands into my investment account. I plan to use it to invest in assorted stocks I feel will bounce back once the economy recovers.

After lunch I watch a few more youtube videos while I knit. One is a career review of the one-hit wonder band 'Living in a Box' and another is a recording of 'the world's worst singer' Florence Foster Jenkins. I had found an article that talked about people who had a medical condition which made them unable to percieve how poorly they performed a skill. In her case, she was a renowned as a very poor singer who believed she was very good and people would come to watch her ironically. I try to watch a congressional hearing where they discuss the health crisis with Dr. Fauci, but it's too depressing so I stop.

My anxiety related to work continues to grow. I figure that I'm not able to bring myself to do any investigation on my own, but I'm still able to ask people questions. I reach out through Skype to a colleague who I believe had worked with this business group before. I am surprised by how helpful she is and how quickly she is to respond. We get on a call and she shows me some reporting she did that is similar and directs me towards a table she thinks would have the values I'm looking for. She recommends another colleague to talk to and I schedule a meeting with him for the next day since he was busying for the rest of today. I feel instantly better. My anxiety about my work plummets and I find the energy and motivation to start investigating another task I've been given. I quickly find 1) the task was way easier than I initially estimated and 2) the data I want isn't available where I thought it would be. I even find out a new way to pull code out of Tableau and I excitedly share my discovery with another colleague. Around this time it's getting close to 4pm, my usual time to stop working and just become available for questions, should anyone need to reach out to me. I feel better about myself and allow myself to take more pleasure in my activities.

I start to prepare for the online D&D game I host each week, Tuesdays at 7:30pm. One of my favorite things about quarantine is that it's given me the time and ability to play again. I've missed having a regular D&D game badly. We had a very good game the previous week and I'm excited to make new material for this new game. I decide to include a villain who is a Banksia Man, one of the anatognists from the Australian fairy-tale Snugglepot and Cuddlepie. CY had helped me over the weekend come up with a cool backstory for him. I take notes and save some pictures so I can display them to my players through screen share.

A group of our friends are doing a Plank Challenge while we try to stay in shape while in quarantine. Colette set up a FB group with a list of exercises to do for 13 days. Each day, you do your assigned exercise then you post to the group to indicate you completed your day's tasks. CY and I made a point to work out for a bit each day after work and were already doing a fair amount of planks so the challenge as it was written was too easy for us. We tend to double the amount of time for each exercise or we double up the reps. My tasks for today are 30 seconds each of planks, rocking planks, hip dips, and up downs. I do all the exercises straight through twice with a short break in between sets then post to FB in the group.

After doing planks, CY and I go out to a nearby park to walk for a bit. We go for about 2.5 miles. It's a nice day, nearly 60 degrees. I am happy to see wild flowers starting to sprout up and the leaves coming back to the trees. Most people in the park are polite and keep their distance. It's rare to see people wearing masks while they are walking or running, so it almost feels normal.

We make it back with enough time for me to start getting my notes ready for game. CY offers to make me food and asks what I'd like to eat. We had just gone to Trader Joe's the weekend before and gotten a truly ridiculous amount of frozen food. He insists I pick something from the freezer to eat. In the end we decide he'll cut up the jackfruit crab cakes and make them into 'seafood tacos'. He even makes some sriracha ranch to go with it. The crab cake is surprisingly greasy, but it's very tasty and filling. Not sure I'd get it again though.

I go into the gaming group call and we quickly realize that only Gene and Aaron are going to be able to join game. We don't think it will be enough to continue the campaign I prepared for so I offer to do a one-shot just for them. I show them a cute rpg I found awhile ago called 'Fuck! It's Dracula' and we give it a shot. We have fun but I feel a bit unprepared since I have to ab lib most of the plot and come up with secret plans on the fly so they can be betrayed by their NPCs. The game is much shorter than I initially anticipated and we finish up around 9:30pm, much earlier than normal. I don't feel like Aaron and Gene enjoyed this game as much as they would have enjoyed the larger campaign I made, but at least we got to play together for a bit. I appreciate the social contact at the very least.

We dismiss ourselves from game and I join CY on the couch. He is watching some cooking tutorial videos, trying to teach himself how to smoke brisket properly. I go back and forth between different apps on my phone, not really paying attention to the TV. I try to read for a bit, but we eventually settle down to sleep before I get very far. I feel good about how the day went and I'm proud of myself for getting work done on the sock and researching my projects. I feel better about my life than I did when I first woke up this morning.

#journal writing #quarantine #may 2020

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tannerrandallsblog-blog · 4 years

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6 Rules to fat Loss:

Fat Loss via Science and Simplicity

Nowadays, everyone has their own trick as to how to lose weight. With recent fads like keto, carnivore, and intermittent fasting, it seems as though people are trying to find the quickest way to lose weight. Although once they lose that weight, any slip up on their diet can bring them back to square one. While there are benefits to keto and intermittent fasting, I find that the perfect way of getting your body nutrient-dense food works best. Also, make sure not to count your calories but making your calories count.

In the last six weeks, I have cut from about 245 lbs. To 220 lbs., while adding about 10 pounds. Of muscle, which means I've lost about 25 lbs. of fat. This diet, besides the rather extreme Keto Diet, has produced veins across my stomach, which is the last place I lose fat (boo! Scandinavian genetics). Here are the 7 rules I followed.

Rule#1 Lift first thing in the morning. Let's face it, life happens, as the day unfolds, we are bombarded with stress from our careers, relationships, school, etc. These stresses wear down on us mentally using part of our energy storage. Try lifting first thing in the morning when the mind is waking up. I promise you will not only have better and more intense workouts but you will have higher energy levels and vigor as you attack your day. Plus, your body will burn more calories throughout the day after your workout.

Rule #2: Avoid "white" carbohydrates

Avoid any carbohydrate that is, or can be white. The following foods are thus prohibited: bread, rice, cereal, potatoes, pasta, and fried food with breading. If you avoid eating anything white, you'll see your body change within a day just by avoiding those foods. However, if you finished a high-intensity workout, a white carbohydrate post will provide a positive benefit by increasing your glucose levels and increase your insulin levels and prevents the breakdown of muscle protein (makes you bulk the fuck up).

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/healthy-eating/choosing-healthy-carbs.htm

Rule #3: Eat the same few meals over and over again

The most successful dieters, regardless of whether their goal is muscle gain or fat loss, eat the same few meals over and over again. Mix and match, constructing each meal with one from each of the three following groups:

Proteins: Eggs

Chicken breast or thigh

Grass-fed organic beef

salmon or tuna

Pork

Legumes:

Lentils

Black beans

Pinto beans

Vegetables:

Spinach

Asparagus

Peas

Mixed vegetables

Eat as much as you like of the above food items. Just remember: keep it simple. Pick three or four meals and repeat them. Almost all restaurants can give you a salad or vegetables in place of french fries or potatoes. Mexican food is always good if you can leave out the tortilla.https:

https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/slow-carb-diet

Some athletes eat 6-8x per day to break up caloric load and avoid fat gain. I think this is ridiculously inconvenient. I eat 3-4x per day:

5am- lift heavy things

7am – breakfast usually oatmeal with blueberries, coconut shredding, chia seeds, and almond butter

10am – protein smoothie. 4 0z's of Coconut water, 1 orange, 30 grams of protein, half a cup of blueberries and a half cup of raspberries, a teaspoon of avocado oil.

1pm – Egg scramble. 3 eggs, chopped red bell pepper, mushrooms, spinach, and a glass of water.

4pm – afternoon snack. Apple slices with almond butter

7pm- Dinner. Usually salmon with a vegetable stir fry.

Rule #4: Take one day off per week

I recommend Saturdays as a "fuck it" day. I eat whatever I want on Saturdays, and I go out of my way to eat ice cream, candy, and all the fried foods in excess. I make myself a little sick and don't want to look at any of it for the rest of the week. Dramatically spiking caloric intake once per week increases fat loss by ensuring that your metabolic rate doesn't downregulate from extended caloric restriction. That's right: eating pure crap can help you lose fat. Welcome to Utopia.

Rule # 5) Cardio for muscle gain? Wait, what? That sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? Let me explain, endurance is everything in the game of muscle building. I do not care whether you are bulking, shredding, or maintaining. Some types of aerobic activity should be performed to exercise and grow lung capacity and overall heart health. The more endurance you have, the harder and longer you can train and subsequently hit muscle hypertrophy and increased protein synthesis. For everyone that says cardio costs you gains, well, then you simply need to eat more.

https://www.t-nation.com/training/3-ways-to-build-muscle-by-doing-cardio

Rule #6) Pick up the pace. Take fewer selfies, less texting, and talking. Your lift should also be a subsequent cardio session because of the speed you train at. Think of it as muscle building cardio.

-Tanner

#6rulestofollow weightlossandmusclegain dontcomplainjustdoit

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hamishlinklaters · 6 years

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So this is a little something I wrote, English is not my first language, so sorry if it’s really badly written. I wanted to share this with someone and you seem like the right person for this :D

Wow! If English is not your first language, I’m amazed, because this is not only steamy, but well written! Bravo! Brings back a lot of good 30 Days memories. Thank you for this little story anon!

Be warned - NC-17/BDSM content below the cut.

“Can we play tonight?”

That was usually the sentence that kick started everything. Mostly those words were spoken by me, which only added to my submissive character, since I was the one who had to ask. It was not my place to decide whether or not things were happening. It was not my place to say yes or no, it was simply my place to ask. The final decision was in her hands. If she said yes, I could satisfy my hunger. If she said no, I had no choice but to accept that and deal with the emptiness that it left inside me.

Thankfully, almost all my proposals were answered positively.

Today was no different.

I could hear her chuckle over the phone. “Sure,” she answered in that daring voice of hers. The voice that had brought me to do things I never thought I was capable of. The voice that could send me over the edge in a matter of seconds. The voice that controlled me so blissfully. The voice of the woman I worshipped.

I could tell she was smiling from the other end of the line. She enjoyed this, me coming to her, asking if I could please come over and play. She enjoyed my desperation, my eagerness to be with her. When it came to the first step, she would settle for desperation and eagerness. If we had come further in our game, I knew she would want more. She would make me beg a little more with every next step. And I loved every minute of it.

“Thank you,” I almost whispered through the phone. We both had a mutual understanding that her playing with me was a gift, but I really did see it that way. This beautiful, intelligent, out of this world sexy woman, wanted to give me her time, her attention, her touch – even though she put limitations on that. I was truly blessed with that, it was a gift unlike anything else.

“Be here at 8,” she firmly ended the conversation.

After hearing the beep of the line breaking, I looked over to my watch: 4pm. Four more hours of agonizing longing, four more hours of imagining what would happen tonight, what she would have in store for me this time. Would she let met come this time? If so, how would she do it? Did she have something new in store this evening? Would I come home frustrated or relieved? What would she be wearing? I thought about the sight of her in that black lingerie set the other day. Her firm, yet soft breasts lurked at me like the beautiful, exotic passion fruits waiting to be devoured. The black lace edge around the cups showed off her sun kissed skin like never before, the see-through fabric attached to her bra barely covered her beautifully tanned stomach. I could still see her turn around, revealing a brazil type string, giving her ass cheeks the show they deserved. They were calling for my hands to cup them, feeling her soft skin brush my palm cheeks, feeling the curves of her body so close to me. but I knew it was not my place to do so. I had to wait till she told me I could. she was in charge of her body, she was the one who decided when my hands got to meet her warm olive colored skin.

She truly was a sight for sore eyes, or balls in my situation.

I felt my pants tighten a little. I couldn’t take this anymore. If I didn’t stop thinking about her right now, I’d be a goner before I even arrived at her house. I needed to get my mind off her for a few more hours, but that was way more easier said than done.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I gave my watch another glance and saw it was a quarter to eight. Finally it was late enough to leave for her house. I hopped in my car and told myself not to drive too fast, or I would arrive way too early and come off as too eager. I didn’t want to make that first kind of impression tonight, because she would immediately have food for manipulation. Not that I didn’t enjoy her pulling my strings, but I wanted somewhat of a fair start to the night.

The ten minute drive to her house seemed like hours while my mind ran through different scenarios that could pan out this evening, every one more tantalizing than the previous.

When I finally pulled up at her driveway, it felt like my crotch was about to burst.

As soon as I got my hand to stop shaking, I rang the doorbell and waited for her appearance.

“Well hello there.” The door swung open and she greeted me in a simple skinny, washed out jeans and a black crop top. It was so simple, but she looked like a goddess. My goddess. Her gorgeously tanned stomach peeped out from underneath her top and the very thought of running my fingers over her smooth skin sent and electric feel through my body. Her long black hair lay over her shoulders in smooth waves, extending all the way over her boobs.

“Hi, Miss,” I softly whispered, wanting to hit myself on the head for already sounding so weak.

“Come in,” she urged me with a little smirk that only I could notice. Because I knew with those words that our game had begun.

“Do you want a drink?” she asked when we sat down at her kitchen bar.

“Yes, I would like that, Miss.”

She turned to her fridge to get out two beers. After popping them open, she slowly moved towards me again and sat herself down on the stool next to mine.

“To an exciting night.” She lifted her bottle in the air and I happily accepted her toast.

“So why did you wanna play tonight?” she asked in that soft, sensual voice of hers. She rested one hand softly on my knee and moved up agonizingly slow.

“There’s just so much going on,” I whimpered. “Everyone wants so much from me and I just wanna…”

My words failed to reach the air when her hand softly enveloped my crotch. Now she could clearly feel how much I needed her tonight.

“You just wanna what?” she whispered while softly stroking my erection through the fabric of my jeans.

“I just wanna be yours tonight,” I hissed through ragged breath.

“You wanna be all mine tonight?” she teased. Her hand was now moving away from my cock, moving up to my stomach. Her fingers found their way under my shirt and the feeling of finally having her skin on mine made me go crazy.

“Yes, miss,” I hissed again. “I wanna be all yours, nothing but yours.”

“Good ,” she said with another one of those teasing smirks. She got up from her stool without taking her hands off me. She took off my shirt and playfully ran her fingers over my chest once more before leaning into me.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered into my ear. Her warm breath so close to me sent shivers through my spine.

She took my hand and led me to the stairs, even though I was all too familiar with the way to her bedroom.

The way her hips moved, showing off the curves of her ass with every step she took, made me all the more excited for what was about to come.

The door to her bedroom slowly creaked open.

I glanced around the room once again. Her high bed, filled with pillows because she liked to sleep feeling extremely soft, her desk, near the window looking out over the Hollywood hills. She had made it in life and her house reflected that. It breathes class everywhere you went, but also warmth, passion and love. All things that described her perfectly as well. The fact that I could enter here and enjoy the attention she gave me, made me feel like the luckiest man in the world.

“I think we should get you warmed up,” she suddenly spoke, waking me up from my rambling thoughts.

Warming up. The only warm up I needed was the sight of her.

But I loved her warm ups, I loved the delicate attention she gave me, the time she spent with me, the thought she put into it. it made me feel special, wanted, it gave me the idea that I was worth someone like her. the fact that she controlled me and had the power to deny me at any moment, somehow made those feelings even stronger.

She dragged her desk chair to the feet of her bed while I was still standing in the doorway, not knowing what to do with myself.

“Strip,” she simply said, in that firm voice that never failed to control me. “I want you butt naked on that chair.”

“Yes, miss.”

I obeyed and took off my clothes. She walked over into her wardrobe while I stripped down until I was completely exposed. She came back with some ropes, I assumed they came with some of her dresses.

“Sit down,” she said. Before she did so, I could see she gave me a quick rundown with her eyes. If I did my best, I could see her crack a smile. It felt good to have her looking at me.

I followed her orders and sat down on the chair. The leather of the chair felt cold against my naked ass. I looked down at my crotch, already knowing that I was rock hard, but being so exposed for her, it was obvious for her too. I didn’t like showing this kind of weakness so early on, but at this point I didn’t really care all that much anymore.

She walked behind me and –oh yes, my suspicions were confirmed – tied my hands together. She also went a step further and tied each of my feet to one of the chair feet. The professional way she did it in proved that she knew all too well what she was doing. I loved being in her hands.

“Guess you won’t need a lot of warming up.” She looked down at my erection.

“But I know how to make this a liiiiitle more exciting.”

She smiled like a little schoolgirl and quirkily disappeared into her wardrobe again. I took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare myself for what was about to come. My entire body quivered in anticipation. I was kinda scared, but even more excited.

Finally she came back. In her right hand, she held a black scarf. My heart skipped a beat when I realized what she was going to do with that.

She walked over to me and stood still behind the chair. I could not see her anymore, but suddenly I saw her hands come up from above me. In one swift motion, the room turned pitch black and I was overwhelmed by her scent on the scarf. All her clothing smelled like lemongrass, because she was addicted to that scent. Even this scarf gave off the delicate, soft smell. Her hands carefully tied both ends of the scarf at the back of my head.

“Can you see anything, Josh?”

“No, miss.”

“You sure?”

I could feel her body move away from behind me and stand still in front of me this time.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Couldn’t tell you, miss,” I replied in ragged breath. There was something about being blindfolded that made you feel like you couldn’t breathe that easily. Maybe it was the loss of control, the feeling that something was taken away from you. Not seeing meant being helpless and delivered into someone else’s power. I knew for a fact that I loved that, especially when it was her.

“Good,” she said and I just knew she had that smug grin on her face.

“You seem a little tense,” she commented. “Now would there be any way I can help you with that?”

I know a few, I wanted to say, but I wisely shut my mouth.

I heard a drawer open and close. She sat down on my lap. It felt so beautiful to feel her light weight so close to me, yet not close enough to there. Suddenly I heard a squeeze and her rubbing her hands together. My mind tried to figure out what I was.

The feeling of a cold lotion mixed with her warm hands on my shoulders, solved the mystery.

She started kneading my shoulders, her feminine fingers working almost professionally. Now that she pressed her fingers in my flesh, I could feel I was indeed very tensed. Again, I was more than happy to let go of my body and leave it into her hands completely. I let out a soft moan.

“Does that feel good, Josh?”

“Yes, miss.”

“I take care of you, right?” she softly brushed my cheek.

“Yes, miss, you do,” I replied with a smile. She did take care of me. She took care of me like no one else could.

Her slippery hands moved down to my chest

Her fingers circled my nipples and I could feel the slight pinch of her fingernails in my skin. The blindfold made everything so much more intense. I couldn’t see where her hands were going, so every little touch was a pleasant surprise.

Her hands followed the line of hair over my belly button and into my crotch. Without warning, she enveloped my cock with both her hands and firmly massaged up and down. My knees instinctively wanted close up on each other, but were held back by the restraints on my feet. Not being able to hold back on my legs, made it even harder not to lose control.

As quickly as she had grabbed me, so quickly did she let go too. She got up from my lap and let her hand travel over my legs and massage my flesh. Feeling her hands all over me was simply majestic. I wanted to feel her so close all the time. She rubbed over my calves, the slipperiness of the lotion was wearing thinner. A quick brush over the sole of my foot made me scare up. It tickled so much and I tried to pull my foot back, but the rope held me back.

She then moved back up, making the same agonizingly pleasurable journey with her hands all over again. When her hands found my throbbing member again, I thought I was going to lose it. When she kneaded my balls with one hand and pumped my shaft with the other, circling my tip with her thumb, I was surprised I didn’t burst out right then.

“You like that, Josh?”

“Yes, miss,” I managed to get out. “I like that so much, miss.”

“Good.” She let go of my dick again and moved back up over my stomach, my chest and to the back of my neck. Her soft fingers undid the blindfold. I could finally see her again. She grinned at me.

“I guess you’re warmed up enough now, what do you think?”

“Yes, miss.”

“What would you like to do now?”, she teasingly asked, softly stroking my arm with one finger.

“I… I don’t know, miss.”

“I will give you a choice, because you’ve been so good.” She sat back on my lap, my exposed cock so tensefully close to her warm, wet entrance. So close and yet so far away, because it was out of my reach, I was not the one to decide over it.

“Thank you, Miss,” I whispered, not being able to take the silence but also not knowing what to say.

“I will either suck your dick, or you can fuck me,” she slowly whispered into my ear. Her hands kept caressing my body all over, except my crotch, the one place that was aching most for her touch. She began at my chest, circled my nipples, followed the hairline over my stomach, almost to my crotch. But she stopped as soon as her wrists made slight contact with my throbbing cock, moving back up to my shoulders.

“So you can either feel my mouth,” she teased again, “or my pussy.”

Oh god.

“Which would you like most, Josh?” she looked up at me, giving me that daring smile that got me going so bad.

“Should I give you a preview to help you make up your mind?”

She reached over to undo the handcuffs from the chair, freeing my hands. Herein lay the proof of power she held over me. She could choose to free me, but that still didn’t give me freedom. My hands were eager to start exploring her all over, to touch myself to feel some kind of relief. Yet they knew to wait for her permission to do so.

She grabbed onto my wrist and playfully ran my hand over one of her boobs. Feeling that beautiful curve at last made my mind whimper. But it wasn’t even remotely enough to get closer to that mind-blowing edge.

“This is how my mouth feels,” she suddenly whispered, snapping me back to reality. The actions she took next almost made my crotch burst out like fireworks. She slowly bur firmly sucked my index finger while tightly grabbing my wrist. Her mouth felt so warm and wet. The soft, yet determined way in which she sucked my finger was one of the best feelings I had ever experienced. I tried to picture my finger being replaced by my penis and I could feel my crotch itch just a little more. The erotic senses her tongue sent over to my finger were almost too much to handle.

With one last suck she let go of my finger and moved it further down, to where her legs were touching mine.

She let my hand slip into her panties, letting me feel her little nub where I could give her so much pleasure, the complexity and beauty of her sex.

“And this is what my pussy feels like,” she whispered into my ear in that erotic voice again. She grabbed onto that same finger that had been so lucky to feel her glorious mouth and let it slip into her. She felt so warm, so wet and so tight. It almost knocked me even more senseless than her mouth. She began to pull back and forth with my finger and tightened her muscles, letting me feel every beautiful inch of her pussy.

When she pulled my finger out completely, I was left with an empty feeling that only she could ever fill.

“Now what would you like most?” she whispered into my ear again. She was driving me fucking crazy. “My mouth or my pussy?”

“I…. I don’t know miss,” I hissed. Her hands had started their journey around my body again, but they never reached my throbbing member.

“You don’t know?”

“No, no, no, miss.” I sounded like a petty little schoolboy, I knew it. but I simply couldn’t help it.

“Well, what if I add something into the mix.” She said that with that smirk of hers, so I knew something was up.

She continued while her hands didn’t stop teasing me for a second. “If you choose my mouth, I will suck you until you come. I will surely let you feel that glorious release I know you’re aching for.” She now very swiftly brushed my cock with her fingers, causing me to whimper and jump up a little. Finally a little touch, it was so satisfying. Yet it was so swift that it only made me long for more. I didn’t know which was worse. She smirked a little wider, so I knew my reaction amused her. it was exactly what she wanted. “But… if you choose my pussy, my warm, tight and especially for you… very wet pussy, I decide when you stop. If I tell you to pull out of me, that’s what you do.”

Damn it.

She knew me way too well.

She knew that this would make it even harder for me. any other man would choose to be sure of his satisfaction, any man would choose to definitely feel content at the end of the day. But this was part of the excitement for me. the game, the power she had over me, made it even more erotic, even more exciting and in that way even more satisfying. I didn’t just want to come, I wanted her to lead me there, I wanted her to control me.

She looked into my eyes, knowing all too well what I was thinking now.

“I…. I want your pussy, miss,” I managed to get out through ragged breath.

“You are one special creature, Josh,” she said with a teasing smile.

“So you know you have to obey me, right?” she asked, tilting her head a little to the right.

“Yes, miss, I know.” I just wanted her, but I still wanted her to be in charge. This was perfect.

“Good,” she smiled and got off my lap. She grabbed my wrist and led me to her bed. The way her ass and hips moved when she walked in front of me made my imagination go into overdrive.

She placed herself on the soft duvet, and took off her panties, all her naked beauty spread out for me like a feast. My flabbergasted feet hesitated at first, but her seductive gaze convinced me to approach her.

It felt strange, yet so safe to see her like that for me. The strangeness was that she never showed any weakness towards me. I was the weak link between the two of us and I hadn’t minded one bit since the start. But seeing her like that, waiting for me to come over to her, waiting for me to be on top of her, it was peculiar. And even though every second with her was a surprise, she was the most unpredictable creature ever, I never knew what would be waiting for me next. Even through all of that, she made me feel safe. I knew that she cared about me, I knew that she respected me. I was someone with her, I was hers, I meant something. she made me feel important, wanted, she made me feel alive.

Even when she controlled me and treated me as less than her during our play, I knew she loved me in her own way. She had made me feel more loved than anyone else ever had or anyone ever could.

It lay in the way she spoke to me. It lay in the way she looked at me. It lay in the way she touched me.

Her love was refined and extraordinary, but it ran deeper than anything I’ve ever felt.

“Come closer, Josh.” In the way she said that I could again feel her love. I knew she wanted me to enjoy and she knew controlling me was the way to do that for me.

“You’re so goddamn hard, Josh,” she smirked. “Do you get this hard for other girls, too?”

“No, miss,” I hissed when I found myself on all fours between her exquisite legs. “Only for you, miss.”

“For another man maybe?” she looked up at me with a knowing smile, which again proved how well she knew me. No one else knew so much about those fantasies of mine.

I felt my cheeks getting a little red. Only she could get me into this vulnerable state.

“Hmmm, good,” she moaned, twirling around under me. this woman would be the death to me.

I knew she had given me permission to be inside of her before, but I was used to waiting until she said once again that I could.

She ran her hands over my body once more, now swiftly brushing my penis again. I swear I could’ve burst out right there and then if I didn’t have a somewhat little grip on myself at least.

“Do you think you’re gonna make it in two minutes, Josh?” She licked her lips, ever so teasingly. “Do you think you’re gonna come?”

“I… I don’t know, miss,” I managed to get out through ragged breaths. If she kept going like this, I wouldn’t even have to be inside her to come. And that would be a shame.

“But you’re willing to risk it,” she smirked again. Oh how I loved that smirk. “That’s ballsy. I do appreciate that, Josh. I won’t forget that.” She looked up at me in a way that said: you will be rewarded for that later. This has been a good move.

“Well, I’m ready if you are.”

That was my cue.

She gave me permission at last.

Somehow, I got a little anxious. Was it because I would finally get so much closer to the edge, the point that an entire night of buildup has led to? Or was it because she gave me a little control and I had no idea how to deal with that?

In some way, I managed to let my legs inch closer to her, my throbbing cock meeting her exposed entrance.

I glanced over at her and found her dark eyes watching me every step of the way.

I grabbed my rock hard shaft and slowly pushed my tip inside of her.

“Gah!” I couldn’t stop my breath from gushing out, causing her to smirk at my desperation. I wasn’t even fully inside her but already struggled to not fall apart.

I wanted to savor every single second of this, I wanted to take it slow, but my dick had other plans. It felt like I was about to explode inside of her right there. I trusted myself deeper inside of her with one hard motion. I could hear her scare up for a second.

“Could’ve given me a little warning there, cowboy.”

“Sorry, miss,” I angstly said, looking up at her to scan her reaction.

“It’s okay, just go on,” she quickly replied. She closed her eyes and licked her lips, so I guess it was safe to assume she was fine with it.

The instants that followed passed me by in a blur of pleasure, soft touches, deep and satisfying thrusts, my body against hers, my skin scraping her soft flesh. I pounded inside her like a crazy person who hadn’t had human contact in years. I slid my fingers across her smooth olive skin, all the while knowing how beautiful it was that she let me do these things, that she let me feel this way.

It was like my soul descended out of my body and watched me from afar. I could not comprehend it was me who was so lucky to be so close to her, to be in her.

Yet, my body had never felt so alive before. I had never in my life experienced such intense connection.

“How does my pussy feel, Josh?” she asked, snapping me back to her.

“Like… like heaven, miss,” I hissed.

“Oh wow, we’re original.”

“Huh,” I hissed. I was not in the mood to discuss my English skills. I wanted to feel her and focus on nothing else but that. But I knew this was part of her teasing, she loved to make it difficult for me in any way she could.

“Does it feel nice to feel me, Josh?”

“It feels amazing, miss.” I was barely able to catch my breath.

“Play with my boobs.”

It was like she read my mind. I wanted to touch her so badly, to feel her, but I knew to wait for permission before doing so. I gladly met her proposal and cupped one of her perfect breasts in my hand. Her flesh felt so soft when I started kneading and rolling my tongue over her nipple. I could hear her let out a soft moan. My dick got even harder inside of her, knowing that I could give her as much pleasure as she did with me. I kept thrusting harder and harder, each pump of my hips bringing me closer to that glorious edge. She grabbed my free hand and led it to her clit. She didn’t need to say anything, I knew exactly what to do. I rubbed her nub with my thumb, rejoicing when she closed her eyes and moaned again oh so beautifully.

“Oh Joshy, you’re so good at that.” She tilted her head back and I felt very proud of myself.

A few more soft strokes later, I could feel her walls clench me even tighter. Each time her pussy grabbed my cock so hard, I could see her fall deeper and deeper into that blissful wave. She rode out the waves of her orgasm, moaning my name every time her walls grabbed me tightly.

She laid her head back in the pillows and closed her eyes. She didn’t tell me to pull out yet, so I kept going, hoping I could join her.

I pulled out and pushed myself back into her, exploring her heavenly pussy. I moved my hips in circular motions, sending shivers through my entire body. I was so close, but I needed more. I needed to feel her closer.

As if she read my mind, she leaned into me. Lifting her knees up, her hand found my balls and softly stroked and kneaded. It was just what I needed. I let out a grunt when she started rolling them between her fingers. Her soft touch was everything I had longed for. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to that blissful light.

“Miss, I’m gonna….”

“Pull out of me.”

Her words washed over me like a cold shower.

I should’ve known.

I handed that one to her on a silver platter.

“But miss, I didn’t…” I could feel every inch of my body and soul crumbling down into little pieces. This could not be it, this could not be the ending to tonight.

“Uh-uh, Josh, you know the rules we made. The ones you agreed to.”

I pulled out of her, knowing it was the only acceptable thing to do now.

I sat back on the bed while she got up to dress herself.

My cock was still throbbing, letting me know it had still not found the release it was indeed aching for. I was so hard to the point it physically hurt.

I wanted to touch myself, but I knew that if she came back and found me like that, searching for my release without her permission, there would be consequences for the next time that I would like even less than the feelings that were rushing through me now. besides, it wouldn’t be enough anyway. I would not find my satisfaction in my own hands. I needed her. I needed her touch, her body, her voice, her eyes, her feel, just her.

When she came back, dressed in a soft lila nightgown, looking as gorgeous and sexy as ever, I just lost it.

I tried my best to stop them, but the tears found their way out of my eyes, rolling over my cheeks like a never ending waterfall.

“Josh,” she softly muttered as she approached the bed. Her eyes changed in a split second. The teasing smirk faded away and made place for a look of worry. She sat down next to me and brushed her hand over the back of my neck. All the while I couldn’t stop crying like a little baby.

“Josh, it’s okay,” she whispered, stroking my hair with those soft fingers of her.

“I just… I can’t take it anymore, miss, it’s too much,” I cried out.

“Shhh,” she whispered into my ear before kissing my cheek. “It’s okay, lie down.”

She softly pressed her hands against my chest, pushing my back into the mattress.

“I got you,” she whispered into my ear again before kissing my jaw line. Her soft lips on my skin were everything I needed. She stroked my body like she had before, only she had left the teasing behind and was determined to let her hands travel all the way down to my aching member. As she enveloped her elegant fingers around my shaft and cupped my balls with her other hand, her lips continued their journey down my body. She placed soft kisses on both my nipples, licking them before following the hair to my belly button into my crotch. Her tongue left a thrilling sensation everywhere it went. Her hand stopped stroking my shaft and made place for her beautiful mouth. She softly placed her lips around my tip and I thought I would lose it. flicking her tongue over my oversensitive head, was just about enough to make me explode. But she gave me more. She took me in deeper, letting my penis explore every inch of her warm, wet mouth. She sucked so fiercely that I closed my eyes to take it all in. her hands cupped my balls once more and started kneading, tickling and stroking like I had never experienced before.

As I laid my head back in the pillow, a hundred million thought crossed my mind, the most dominant one being that this must be what heaven feels like.

“I’m… I’m going to come, miss,” I hastily said.

“Good, I want you to,” she said with a smile while letting go of my penis for a second. As soon as she had finished speaking, her mouth got back to sucking me.

“I’m..” I couldn’t even finish that sentence, because my body finally let go. It was indescribable. It felt like finding an oasis in the middle of dried out land, it was everything my body needed, it was everything I had longed for all day, all night, from the moment she opened the door and I looked at the breathtaking sight of her.

When I released inside of her, I looked down to find her gazing at me, her eyes telling me it was all right, that she had me, that she wouldn’t let go this time.

While my hips trusted my load out of me, she kept sucking at me like never before.

When the waves of my orgasm finally seemed to stop crashing, she moved off of me and laid down next to me.

“T… Thank you, miss,” I whispered when I finally found my breath again.

“That was not miss, that was Stefenie and you know it,” she smiled. “And you’re welcome. But I’m gonna need you to return the favor next time.”

I looked into her eyes, knowing that I would be more than happy to.

I could barely wait until it was ‘next time’.

#submission #josh hutcherson fanfiction #long post #sorry the cut doesn't work on mobile

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belovedyuuri · 6 years

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colours of you’re your life & love

Rating: T / day two: care / AU (ao3)

warning: a character throws up in this one

Email your professor you won't be in class tomorrow, says the sticky note on Yuuri’s phone, right under Take your meds.

“No,” he grunts to himself. He takes the paper off, turns off the medication reminder alarm, and rolls onto his other side.

YES, says another post-it note, this time shaped like a speech bubble, stuck to the stickman painting Viktor insisted they hang on their wall. At first, Yuuri found the idea ridiculous – the painting was a joke, a prank, why would Viktor ever want something like this in their bedroom when Yuuri could paint him whatever he wished for?

Well, here is his answer. Even when Viktor is at work, he still finds ways to talk at him. On most days, it's very appreciated. Yuuri loves waking up to notes saying Good morning! or Have a nice day! or even It's your turn to buy bread J seemingly coming right from the enormous red heart-mouth of the stick figure.

(One time Viktor wrote him a pun-question on a post-it note stuck to the painting and Yuuri only found another piece of paper with the answer to it three hours later when he opened his lunch. The photo of him laughing with his head lying on the buffet table, exasperated beyond measure, remains one of Phichit’s most popular Instagram photos, simply captioned “when bae makes you snort tea all over the place #thatslove #thatpunwasnteventhatfunny”)

Today, though, Yuuri wishes the notes weren't an option.

“I feel fine,” he grumbles. “I'm still going to the class tomorrow.”

He glares at the painting, daring the YES to turn into NO, or the stick figure!Viktor to tilt his head and give him the that was not a suggestion smile. Nothing like that happens, so he only grunts and turns back to his phone, feeling as victorious as a human being can be when drenched in sweat and having a 39°C fever.

He swallows the antibiotics Viktor left on the bedside table for him and ignores the fruit bowl with a churn in his stomach. It's 4PM already and he hasn't eaten anything since he tried a slice of bread this morning, only to make an emergency use of the bucket Viktor set by the bed for him. He downs the bottle of water and falls back on the pillows, a groan punched out of him at the impact. His head explodes with hot ache, so he curls on his side again and presses his temple against his pillow.

He hates being sick.

...not that he's sick enough to miss class.

When he wakes up, the room is dark but for the swath of light on the living room floor flowing from the bathroom. For a moment, he doesn't know where he is, and when he hears the sound of retching, he jerks on the bed and grabs at the empty bucket. It takes him a minute leaning over the edge of the bed to realise he's not the one vomiting.

“Makkachin?” he calls, cringing at how weak his voice is - he barely hears himself.

It's enough for Makka, though – she whines in reply and appears in the bathroom light, looking at Yuuri, only to go back to the other room.

If it's not Makkachin who's being sick—

“Viktor,” Yuuri breathes, weakness and discomfort forgotten. His bones ache when he carefully sits up, the world shifting dangerously before settling into an order that's much better known for him.

In the bathroom, Viktor throws up again, the sound followed by another whine—not Makkachin’s this time.

“Viktor?” Yuuri exits the bedroom and manages the distance between the door to the bathroom in several steps.

Viktor is kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, gripping the edges of it like his life depends on never letting go. His left arm is still stuck in the sleeve of his brown coat and his scarf has fallen off his neck and onto the floor.

“Oh, Viktor…”

Viktor shakes his head, body trembling with the exertion. “Don't come near,” he says and grimaces right after at the foul taste in his mouth. He dry heaves for a second and Yuuri can't help but look away. Nothing more lands in the toilet, though. Still, the sight and smell alone work just fine to trigger Yuuri’s own sickness.

“Will you be okay?” Yuuri asks, eyes clenched and nose consciously blocked.

For a moment, his question is only met with silence. He makes sure that his nausea is in check and opens one eye, just when Viktor flushes the toilet.

“Teeth,” Viktor mumbles only, lips snapping together when the word is out.

With the mess no longer there, Yuuri reaches him as fast as he can while trying not to get too dizzy and helps him to the sink. “Will you be okay by yourself?” he asks, handing Viktor his toothbrush and the toothpaste despite his question. Only when the man nods does he let go. “I'll make you some camomile tea. It’ll make your stomach less upset.”

Viktor nods again, and so Yuuri leaves Makkachin to watch over him.

Viktor is already in bed, still dressed in his work clothes, with Makkachin resting at his feet, when Yuuri walks in with two cups and a thermos full of camomile tea. With shaking hands, he pours each of them half a cup and leaves them on the bedside table to cool. There’s enough tea in the thermos for one or two cups more so he stores it next to the bed for later.

Viktor’s lying on his side, facing the painting. Yuuri winces inwardly as he follows his eyes, right to the post-it note still stuck to stickman!Viktor’s mouth. He should have taken it off.

“Did you send the email?” Viktor asks, his weak voice muffled a little by his pillow.

I already told you I won’t do it, thinks one part in Yuuri. He’s stubborn, he knows, but he also knows that he can take one class tomorrow—despite how weak he gets when he stands for too long.

Viktor makes a small sound in the back of his throat and tiredly closes his eyes. “I thought so.”

“Nevermind me,” Yuuri says and sits down by Viktor’s side. As much as he knows that moving is the last thing Viktor wants to do right now – and he knows – Viktor should really take off his clothes. “Let’s get you changed into your PJs.”

Viktor’s forehead creases at the thought alone. “Yuuri…”

Yuuri smiles softly and tsks. “That was not a suggestion, love.”

“Yes, I’ll tell him. Thank you again,” Yuuri says to the phone. When he hangs up, he’s met with a weak, yet wide smile on Viktor’s face. “What?”

“I can’t believe you just called Yakov to tell him I won’t be in school tomorrow.” After a small chuckle, Viktor’s smile gets even broader. “You’re like—Mama Yuuri calling the headmaster. Which you actually did. Because I’m sick.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and smiles, too. “He told you to get some rest,” he says and half-heartedly ruffles Viktor’s hair. “So rest.”

They’ve just managed to doze off, only to be shaken awake by the sound of the doorbell.

Yuuri opens his eyes and winces. “Oh no—” he manages, right before Makkachin shoots her head up and barks.

Barking is not good. Barking is hell when his head is already pounding.

Viktor seems to agree with him on that, if his prolonged groan is anything to go by. “Who and why?”

Yuuri rubs at his eyes and reaches out to pet Makkachin to make her calm down—but she’s already off the bed and in the hallway, probably sitting by the door. He sighs falls back on his pillow. “Must be the food delivery.”

“You ordered food?”

“Just chicken soup and some light sandwiches. We need to eat something.” He moves to sit up just as the doorbell rings again. He’s stopped by a hand on his chest.

“I’ll go,” Viktor says and gets up. “You rest.”

He’s as wobbly on his feet as Yuuri feels whenever he walks.

One minute later, Makkachin stops barking and the apartment is filled with silence once more.

The food sits still in their stomachs for now, a fact both of them are glad about as they lie on their bed facing each other. Makkachin is snuggled between them, her body heat too much and not enough at the same time. They won’t make her move away, though, and neither will she do it on her own accord, not if it means putting a stop to the pets she’s getting from both of them – their fingers are intertwined on her head as they scratch behind her ear.

The room is flooded with soft, dimmed light coming from one of their bedside lamps.

“I don’t want to go to my class tomorrow,” Yuuri admits in a whisper, like it’s something to be ashamed of. To him, it is. It only proves that, yes, he is weak if all it takes to get him down is a slight fever.

Viktor hums, the sound breaking just after a second with a grimace on his face. It’ll take a moment for the painkillers to start working. “Good,” he says quietly. “I already emailed your professor for you.”

Yuuri frowns and lifts his head off his pillow—and promptly regrets doing that. “When?”

“When you were talking to Yakov.” Viktor gives him a small smile. “That’s nice… Cancelling each other’s classes.” His eyes blink tiredly until they fall shut. “Shame it’s ‘cause we’re sick.”

Yuuri breathes softly and gently squeezes Viktor’s fingers.

Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t go to the class. He probably couldn’t focus for longer than eight minutes. At home, though, with Viktor and Makkachin… Even feverish and with a skewed balance, he can still take care of them both.

“We’ll take care of each other,” Viktor murmurs on the verge of sleep, like he can hear Yuuri’s every thought.

Maybe he does, Yuuri thinks and closes his eyes, ready for some much-needed rest. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could.

In the morning, Yuuri wakes up to a sleeping Viktor and a new post-it note on the painting, one with three words only:

I love you ♥

#domesticvictuuriweek #victuuriwriters #victuuri #viktuuri #yoi #domestic viktuuri #au #sick yuuri #sick viktor #caring yuuri #caring viktor #b tries to write #colours of your life & love

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theverylastoption · 3 years

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CHAPTER ONE

I want food, the soft voice says as the pressure on her shoulder builds. The fat cat she'd adopted three weeks ago hops twice, and Brooke grunts from the weight on her shoulder. From the weight as well as out of annoyance. Food!

"Are you kidding me, Bob?" She mutters sleepily. "It's 5AM. Give me a break," she begs. Bob pounces on her stomach, and Brooke exhales in a pained rush. "Holy strawberry cheesecake!" She gasps out, and finally throws her blankets off. Hopefully netting the cat underneath them and giving herself a second to wake up properly. "Okay, I'm getting up, you fat jerk!" She scowls and glares at the lump under the blankets as it moves and finds its way out easily. Bob stares at her insolently and her ears twitch impatiently. Brooke glares at the chonker of a cat, and growls at her. "For Bast’s sake, I even gave you two scoops last night so you wouldn't wake me up early today!"

She gets out of bed, and trips over her own blankets. She hits the ground without any grace, and finds herself groaning as she knocks the wind out of herself. Today was going to be a rough one. She could feel it. Bob comes around from her bed and looks at her with a bored look.

Food.

"I heard you the first time!" Brooke snaps, and grunts as she pushes herself off the floor. Familiars were a regular thing for witches, but she wasn't a witch. She was a superhero. But apparently, Bob was a psychic cat. An annoying psychic cat.

I heard that.

"Oh, for sweet mint chocolate chip, shush! I’m up, I’m getting it!" She retorts to Bob. Bob hisses at her in retaliation. She glares at her, and heads towards the kitchen of her condo slowly. "I'm getting your danged food."

Maybe if you fed me wet food this wouldn't be a problem, Bob says, with the sound of promise in her voice. Brooke groans and shakes her head.

"We tried that, Bob, it didn't work," she chides the cat. "Four meals, half a cup per serving, and dry food. Diet food. I've been eating salads with you. Stop being so mean. I'm eating like a danged rabbit for, and with you. We want to be healthy so that we have long lives, remember?”

Well, it sucks and tastes like ashes, Bob hisses at her.

"You’re telling me,” Brooke mumbles. “Everything tastes like nothing when you're dieting, Bob, get used to it," she says, tiredly. She yawns deeply, and stretches her arms above her head. As she comes into the kitchen of her apartment, Bob stalls and stays in the hallway.

Someone is at the door, Bob suddenly says panicked, running away. Brooke raises a brow. It's 5AM, no one should be at her door. She leans forward to look through her peephole. She doesn't get a chance to see anyone, much less duck or step away, when the shots ring out.

Three shots pierce the door, and she falls backward.

"Bob!" She whisper-shouts out desperately. "Hide!" She manages to roll out of the way as more shots come through the door. Thankfully, her fridge is close to the door in her condo, and it manages to block most of the ricochets. The shots blast holes through the door, and she covers her head as she tries to roll behind her fridge. She tries to inhale, and feels something off.

A punctured lung. Oh no.

She desperately tries to scramble to her feet as more shots come through the door. She doesn't let out a sound, but heads for her balcony. It's made of brick. The rest of the condo is just separated by drywall. Thank goodness the condos themselves are separated by a foot of concrete. She gasps painfully for air. She rolls over the edge of the balcony, and drops ten stories.

When she lands, she scrambles to her feet, knowing she's still alive. But something is wrong. She looks down, and sees a weird dart still stuck within her. That’s not including the bullets that are still within her or grazed her. She grabs it, and pulls the long needle from her body. The excess in the needle seems to have a fluorescent glow to it. What the hell? It's 5AM in late November. The sun hasn't even risen yet. She runs. Barefoot with nothing on her but her pyjamas.

She refuses to cry out in pain. She moves fast, running as fast as her bare feet will carry her. She moves faster than they can despite hearing gunshots ring out above from her balcony, and ends up in an alleyway a block or so away. She gasps again, the plume of heat coming out from her chest and her mouth. Her chest is hurting with every breath. It’s bad. Real bad. She's wearing nothing but her pyjamas, and she can feel herself weakening and fast. She looks around her, and questions herself. How? Can she make it anywhere? The pain is vibrating through her very soul, and she feels tears tracking down her face. She hadn't felt pain like that since… She thinks back. Since I was human. Despite the pain, she forces herself to carry on, ducking through the back alleyways. Her feet are cut and bruised, and she can barely take another step. She desperately struggles to think around her foggy thoughts of somewhere close she can hideout. She struggles to think what enemies she'd made recently that would've retaliated. She'd killed the Mafia Don's son earlier that week. She hadn't meant to start a war. She had simply seen the bad, and done what she had always done. She had handled it. She didn't know who he was, even though he had looked familiar. When she'd realized what she'd done, she'd feared the blowback but had been utterly thankful she'd been in her superhero costume. It had hidden her identity. Or so she had thought. He had kidnapped a young woman, only without a ransom. Human trafficking was definitely a big no-no by Brooke's standards. And so, she had killed him, and his goons. She should've been more careful, done more research, but sometimes, you had to fly by the seat of your superhero suit and make fast decisions. You had a responsibility to the people of your city if you were found to have powers. Now, injured, broken, and bleeding… She was wondering if she'd known that her life would be the payment for that woman to live free, would she have done it over again the same way? Yes. She was barely standing, and dizzy. What was in that dart? Whatever it was, she was barely fighting it off. Her options were limited. She could hope to hide and live. Sleep it out in the alleyway, and let her healing properties take over, but there was no guarantee she'd wake up again. Or she could… It was ludicrous but it was possible. He knew her name. She was nearby his place… They had been enemies for a long time now, but despite knowing one another's names, where they lived, their families… They never attacked on home ground. Only out in the public. They had a kind of unspoken agreement on what was fair game. They were nowhere near friends, but they seemed to have an agreement on where and when it was appropriate to fight. Even the relationship that had taken place when they were young and stupid was never mentioned. As though erased once they had their masks on. She moves as stealthily as she's able to, which isn't very much at all. She surely looks like some drunkard, weaving in and out of the shadows; leaning against random light posts and electrical boxes. She finally makes it to his home, and staggers up his steps. She falls to her knees, and ends up crawling across his small porch. She cradles her ribs with her arm, the dart still in her hand. She raises her hand, grimacing at the pain. With as much strength as she can manage, she bangs her fist against his door. Just once. It's all she can handle. Her fist drags down the door, leaving a smear of blood in its wake. Resting her forehead against his door, she waits precious seconds, the black taking over the edges of her vision.

The door opens abruptly, and she follows with it. She falls half inside his home, her face landing on his barefoot. He pulls it away abruptly, and her cheek hits the ground. She pushes herself up slowly off the ground, her arms quivering from the effort. "What the fuck?" She can only hear the disbelief in his voice. Her head feels heavy, but she lifts it to look up at him. She can barely make him out. The darkness is closing in, and she only has a few seconds before her body succumbs to the pain and she falls into the depths of unconsciousness. She speaks brokenly, only able to make out that he was wearing dark pyjama pants with little stars on them, and no shirt. She only manages a few words, "…didn't know where else to go…" The whole world is embracing her in the dark, and pulling her under. Her arms give out, and as she hits the ground, she exhales, almost in relief. Maybe giving up wasn't so bad. Her last thought before everything fades out is simple, but it almost makes her smile. Little stars on his pajama pants. How cute. ----- There's a none-to-gentle shove to her shoulder. She groans and winces as the pain reverberates through her entire body. She struggles to lift heavy eyelids, and scowls. Why is she so tired? "Bob, please, just let me sleep!" She warns. That damned cat was overweight, and knew when she was to be fed her diet food. Which was by clockwork: 5AM, 11AM, 4PM, and then lastly 10PM. It had become a mantra. But sweet mint chocolate chip, she felt like garbage. Bob may have to wait for her food today. She felt like she'd been through a garbage disposal. Bob had been on a diet for a solid three weeks now, and insisted on her food like clockwork. 5AM on the dot, or she wouldn't let you sleep. Bob was about to sing her the song of her people if she didn't get up pronto and get her food. The question was, could she sleep through all that literal caterwauling? "I don't know who Bob is, but you and I," the voice pauses, slapping her cheek gently. "We need to talk." Her eyes snap open, the pupils dilating into pinpoints painfully. She shuts her eyes tight, and groans. This can't be happening. "Oh by the Gods, no," she mumbles in a barely audible whisper. "Come on, Brooke, wake the fuck up, I don't have time for this," the very familiar voice snaps. She recognizes it immediately as Victor. Oh, may the Gods strike me down right now. Please. She fuzzily remembers struggling to reach his home. She had had no other option. At least she hadn't thought so then. Now she was highly debating on whether she would've preferred to just die in the alleyway. It's weird what survival will make you do. She groans, and goes to sit up without answering him. A large, firm hand presses down on her chest. "Yeah, I don't think so, B," he says, using the moniker he'd used to call her when they were younger as a term of affection. At the moment, it's laced with irritation and barely concealed venom. "You're a fucking mess. I did what I could, but your healing properties need time to push the bullets out. You can't just show up at my door like that, and expect to wander off into the ether again. And you owe me a new fucking couch, you bled right through to the fucking floor. You how hard it is to get blood out of shit." She relents and gives up. Laying back again at the persistence of his hand. "Aloe vera and cool water," she says softly, trying not to hurt herself while talking. "What?" He sounds genuinely confused. "It gets blood out," she says on an exhale, cringing at the pain that assaults her from all different directions. "Can you turn the damned lights down at least? My head is killing me," she mutters almost in an ashamed whisper. She can tell immediately when the lights dim, and she finally opens her eyes very slowly. She meets a very agitated gaze of dark grey eyes under a dark furrowed brow, and sighs embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go." "Yeah, you said that when you got here," he says in the same clipped tone. "I'm taking it you weren't followed. It's been all quiet on the Western front so far. Thanks for that by the way, I'm probably going to have to move." "I wasn't followed, Vic," she says in the same quiet voice. She turns her head to look away, and feels tears pricking the back of her eyes. She knew he'd be absolutely furious at her for coming to him. They weren't friends. They weren't acquaintances. They weren't anything anymore, and she knew that. But she'd been desperate. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd picked her up, and flown her to the nearest intersection and left her there, but he hadn't. "Oh yeah? And you know that for a fact? You were nearly dead on my doorstep, B. I had to flush your system twice over with saline, what the fuck was that shit? You had a fever of 106, and were delirious. It's past 10AM by the way. You think Bob is wondering where you are?" He says, snidely. Was that a hint of jealousy? She takes a slow breath in, trying to ease her way past the pain she feels all over. Her healing properties were much slower than usual. Whatever was in that damned dart gun was freaking lethal. And that wasn't something that the Mafia Don had come up with since she'd killed his son. He or someone he was working with had been working on it for a long time. It made her practically human. It had been a long time since she'd… been human. Felt human. Weak, and unsure. She'd always been clumsy, but thankfully her healing properties kept her from injuring herself in the process. She couldn't fathom what would happen to a human should they be hit by the dart. Would it kill them? Was it meant solely for the supers? "Bob is my cat. She's a real fat thing. I adopted her a few weeks ago," she starts hesitantly. She wasn't sure about telling him about her personal life. It had been a long time since they'd talked without their masks on. They had taken different paths in life, and didn't expect him to care much, but she figured she should explain. "She insists on being fed at specific times. I just assumed she was the one shoving me around to get me awake." She takes him in as she talks. He'd taken the time to put on a shirt, not that it did much to hide his physique. He was always tall when he was younger, but he'd grown into his height. A dark shock of hair hanging loosely over one eye, mussed from running his fingers through his hair as he did whenever he was stressed out. She'd clearly caught him unawares when she'd come to his door in the early morning hours. She tries not to look too long, trying to remember that the person he was when she'd loved him as a youngster was no longer there. She looks away feeling her heart clench in her chest. He wasn't the same person. They'd chosen sides a long time ago. So why had she come here? Why had he helped her?

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whoareurl · 6 years

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what a way to make a living

i’ve missed writing my boys. this is nothing new but i have a couple of ideas floating around for some fics with these two once i finish my commissions (i’m working on them!!) and i wanted to put their ~intro~ out there and see if u guys were interested. i’m very invested in them!!

Milo hated when Raymond went to work when he was sick. Specifically, Milo hated that Raymond had to go to work when he was sick. But there were bills to be paid and Raymond had already used up his sick days for the year when it had been unavoidable during a nasty bout of flu back in January. Their flat didn’t do much for his health either. A damp, ground floor flat with a flaky heating system saw them curled up together in bed every night with every blanket they owned wrapped snugly around them.

And even then Raymond still woke up shivering in the night sometimes.

Recently, Raymond had been struggling through an awfully resillient cold, going through his small supply of handkerchiefs almost once every day. Milo did his best to wash them for him when he was at work (which was pretty much all the time these days since- well, since Milo had last worked) but they hand’t always finished air drying by the time his poor, sickly boyfriend returned, run down and exhausted and good for nothing but his bed.

Hearing footsteps echoing in the close, Milo glanced at the alarm clock on the floor next to the mattress (hey, bedframes were expensive) and quickly made his way to the front door, throwing it open just as Raymond had been reaching for the handle.

“Oh, Ray,” he breathed, pulling Raymond inside quickly and immediately taking off his cargidan to wrap it round his trembling shoulders.

Raymond smiled wanly by way of greeting but it did little to convince Milo that he was feeling any better. His usually pale face was ashen and drawn, dark circles under his eyes telling tales of nights spent lying awake coughing and wheezing. Milo had been trying to convince Raymond to visit a doctor about his chest since they’d first started dating at seventeen but he’d always been a stubborn little shit, to use the technical term. Raymond’s nose was red and angry and, judging by his congested breathing, completely functionless.

Swiftly, Milo swept Raymond into the kitchen and sat him down at the little wooden table, fixing him a cup of tea.

Raymond sniffled pitifully behind Milo’s back and Milo turned in time to see his boyfriend duck forwards into his tired handkerchief, letting out a few exhausted sneezes.

Ehhshhhuh’ngh!

Hhishhhhuh’nngkh!

“Bless you,” Milo sighed, placing the cup in front of Raymond and taking a seat next to him. “Drink up then straight to bed, yeah?”

Raymond nodded, shakily lifting the tea to his lips and taking a sip, wincing as it burned his lips and throat. Putting the cup down again, he looked Milo up and down once and grimaced, making Milo tense. Here it comes…

“Have you taken that off today?” Raymond asked, nodding to Milo’s chest and barely managing to make himself heard amid the wretched congestion which blocked his sinuses.

Milo sighed, though doing so wasn’t comfortable. “Not yet. I will when you’re asleep.”

Raymond, who looked far too tired to argue, simply nodded but the look on his face suggested that he didn’t believe Milo really would. And maybe he wouldn’t, Milo himself didn’t know. Today had been a rough day. He’d try - for Ray - but that was all he could promise. They didn’t say another word.

With the tea finished, Milo dragged Raymond to the bedroom and started organising the bed while his boyfriend changed slowly into his pyjamas. Milo tucked him in lovingly and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll have food ready when you wake up,” he whispered but Raymond merely grunted in response, already snuffling congestedly as he drifted off to sleep.

Sundays were Milo’s least favourite day of the week. As if his boyfriend’s health wasn’t delicate enough, Sunday saw him working 8am-5pm then 11pm-4pm and, following perhaps two hours of sleep if he was lucky, he was back at work 8am the following morning. Currently, Raymond would get around four hours before Milo would wake him for dinner and hate himself as he ushered his sniffling, wheezing boyfriend out the door to work for the second time that day.

One thing was for sure, this wasn’t living. This was bullshit.

Leaving his boyfriend to sleep, Milo headed to the bathroom. He liften his baggy t-shirt over his head, sighing down at the bandage which tightly bound his chest. Raymond was right. He needed to take it off. The last thing Raymond needed right now was to be worrying about Milo any more than usual. It was ironic, really, that Raymond worried so much about Milo’s health but cared so little for his own when he was the one most often down with coughs and sniffles and, on one awful occasion recently, bronchitus.

Milo sighed and immediately winced when he felt the bandage tighten around his chest. Raymond was always right.

The moment the bandage came off, Milo felt his lungs take in a sudden gasp of cool, fresh air. The constricting happened so gradually over the course of the day that he tended not to really understand how tightly he was binding until it came off. He relished in the moment, eyes closed, feeling suddenly a little lightheaded as the air rushed into his lungs.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay like that forever and, when he opened his eyes, he was left staring at his breasts and belly fat in the mirror, feeling the tears spring to his eyes as he quickly threw his t-shirt back on again. The bandage didn’t exactly make his chest flat but it did significantly help to decrease his dysphoria and, provided he wore baggy clothing, it helped him pass as male in public.

Folding his arms across his chest, he dumped his makeshift binder in the bath and headed out to the living room where he flopped down on their raggedy couch. And then he cried. He cried for his poor boyfriend and his impossible work schedule and fragile health. He cried for himself and his stupid body and his stupid dysphoria. He cried because everything felt like his fault - ever since he’d come out and lost his receptionist job at the bank, Raymond had been tirelessly working just to keep them both afloat.

So Milo cried because he felt trapped and he cried for a long, long time.

Waking Raymond after just four hours sleep that evening was almost more than Milo’s heart could bear, especially after seeing his boyfriend’s exhausted, bleary gaze fall on him and attempt a smile.

“Y-you…” he began but he got no further before he broke off into an awful cough. Milo quickly pulled Raymond upright and sat down beside him, supporting him with an arm wrapped around his lower back. In obvious pain, Raymond pressed his hand against his spasming chest, each gasp of air sounding more and more desperate and tight than the previous.

“It’s alright, my ray of sunshine,” Milo whispered, using his free hand to grab a handkerchief and wipe the sweat from Raymond’s forehead while he coughed. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

Raymond’s breathing only got more desperate as the fit went on but finally, miraculously, he seemed to clear his chest of whatever blockage was there and would have collapsed back down again in exhaustion had Milo not pulled him close, taking Raymond’s full weight against his side. Panting, Raymond rested his head on Milo’s shoulder and sniffed thickly, giving Milo’s hand a pathetic squeeze when it handed him his handkerchief. Following a pitifully feeble nose blow, Raymond closed his eyes, wheezing and exhausted as he used his boyfriend to keep himself upright.

“You took it off,” he rasped, letting out an awful wheezing sigh which made Milo’s chest constrict as though he had still been binding.

“Four hours now,” Milo whispered back, kissing the top of Raymond’s head, barely noticing that his short blond hair was soaked with sweat.

There was absolutely no way in hell Raymond was fit to go to work. Hell, he wasn’t fit to go to the living room. By all basic human decency, Milo should have tucked him back into bed and doted on him until his health returned. He should have threatened to have his guts for garters if his sickly boyfriend even thought about putting one foot on the floor. He should have done several things, maybe, but nothing feasible sprung to mind in time. All he could manage was bringing Raymond a fairly bland meal in bed rather than dragging him to the table.

It wasn’t much of a meal - just a baked potato with what was left of the cheese. Tomorrow, when Raymond was back at work again, Milo would brave the outside with his shoulders hunched and his head down to make sure he could have a decent meal prepared for his hard-working darling when he returned. Tomorrow, Milo would only have one meal. Healthy food was expensive and medicine was expensive too and Raymond needed those things now more than Milo needed to eat three meals a day.

Raymond managed half of the potato before he started to look a little green and Milo quickly took the plate from him, deciding it was better for Raymond to have half a potato in his stomach than to force down the rest of it and lose it. He’d keep it in the fridge for later.

As he helped Raymond into his green cleaning scrubs, Milo suddenly couldn’t take it anymore and threw his arms around his boyfriend with a wail of despair.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered tearfully. “I want you to stay so I can take care of you.”

Raymond gently prised Milo off himself and kept his hands on his shoulders, Milo’s arms still looped around Raymond’s torso should he suddenly need support.

“I dnow,” he said and, as Milo studied his face, even his blinking seemed sluggish. “Budt I godda go. Ndo mbore sick days left.”

Milo leaned forward to quickly kiss Raymond’s cheek. “I’m just- I’m so sorry I lost my job so you have to-”

“Shh,” Raymond interrupted, lifting one finger slowly to Milo’s lips. “Ndot your fault, andgel.”

“It is,” Milo whispered, blinking back tears though a few still escaped. “If- if I wasn’t…”

“Sdop!” Raymond’s voice had such unexpected force behind it that Milo physically started. When he glanced back up into his boyfriend’s eyes again, they were burning with a strength which pleasantly reminded Milo of when Raymond was healthy. “This is ndot your fault snf.”

Not trusting his voice, Milo offered Raymond a small smile and quickly headed back to the bathroom to bind his chest again so he could walk his shivering boyfriend to work.

(Naturally, the buses didn’t run this late.)

#acefic #i love my boys okay #i'm also a sucker for shitty living conditions exacerbating everything #aceocs #rilo

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