#// Even though I hate this and have been unable to fix it & instead just gave up <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[fatalroyale]

==> [S] Balit: Get the books

It was easy to disguise yourself as human after filing down your horns and caking on your makeup. And probably for the best that you did, considering that the task ahead of you would be much more difficult than preparing for a game of stabtag. And it was just as easy to wave at the camera as you left the house, just in case Treekat happened to be watching at that time.

It was much more difficult to overcome the mental hurdle once you were physically standing in front of the transportalizer. Were you really willing to return to the place you hadn't considered home in so long, but still felt too much like home anyways? You didn't owe this to anyone, and no one would know any the wiser if you turned back now. Despite that, you knew you had to do this. The pain of your not quite fully healed wound was tolerable, but you already hated all the aspects of your existence that demonhood brought even before the newer unpredictability of it all. And maybe, just maybe, you'd finally get the answers you'd been seeking from the angel for most of your existence.

When you snapped back into your old world, you felt… Nothing. It seemed like there should be some monumental seismic shift in your very personhood, but it didn't feel any different than traveling to Texas, or the forest, or whatever abandoned house was your latest haunt. So you relied on the triangulations you'd done to generate these coordinates and moved forwards to confirm your work. Seven steps up to the building, just like you remembered. Reaching out to touch the intricate woodwork in the door that had since been weathered down caused an itching sensation to blossom under your skin, and you pulled your hand away quickly. You weren't the same girl you'd been the last time you'd been here. So you nudged the door open with your foot to avoid further direct contact, and couldn't help the shudder as you stepped inside.

Muscle memory helped to push down the itch, so you slowly walked forward until you could slide into the fourth pew from the altar. You ducked your head down in feigned prayer, knowing perfectly well that the late hour didn't necessarily mean no one else was around. And sure enough, you were able to hear the sound of steps coming from the opposite direction of the main entrance, although it had been long enough that you were no longer able to remember what might lay ahead.

It became difficult to hold onto the memories of everything that happened after the priest showed up. You remember using the cover story you'd come up with (thanks to Treekat) about a supposed ancestor who may have authored some of the texts the church still had, and the laser focus you’d put into flirting with the priest that was just barely within the limits of what could be construed as honest friendliness. You remember being led into the back libraries of the church, where you spent an hour or so trying to mentally note down the locations of the books you wanted to take with you while the space between yourself and the priest seemed to shrink.

You don't remember thanking him for his time and leaving like you had laid out in your plan, but you assume you must have in order to end up back outside and dry heaving a short distance away. The sensation of flames was trapped beneath your skin wherever your body touched an object holier than you, but your body couldn’t purge itself of the all too familiar sensation. So instead, you snuck back into the library through the window you'd just so happened to knock the latch off of earlier.

Being inside the building the first time had been a building discomfort, but re-entering was an immediate blast of pain. You knew you weren't supposed to be here before, but now the white hot pain radiating from your stomach wound made it hard to think about anything else. You removed the collapsible grocery bags from your pockets and began throwing what you hoped were the right books into the bags, as well as any other books that were near them. The ache of your arm muscles from the weight as you squirmed back through the window was nothing in comparison to the partial relief from at least being back outside, and so you stumbled as quickly as possible towards the house that you'd cyberstalked checked on virtually to make sure you'd have a transportalizer back.

Once there though, you paused. Where were you going to go? You couldn't go back to the house right now and risk leading someone (or something) back there when you weren't in any state to fight or move everything to the new location. You couldn't stumble into Treekat's forest and risk being tracked there, and you certainly couldn't drop by Texas unannounced. But… There was one place that would still be safe for the time being, one that you'd memorized the coordinates for a long time ago.

It was easy to find the makeshift key you'd fashioned once upon a time to break into Futurekat's old apartment, and it felt familiar to be back inside after all this time. You immediately lock the door and drop your bags unceremoniously on the floor, then exhaustedly drag the table over and push it against the door. From there, you reach out to touch all the windows and make sure they're covered, which someone seems to thankfully have already done for you. The air is stale, and you can't help but wonder how long it's been since anyone was here last. Futurekat presumably hasn't been stopping in to change the bedding, but you were headed straight towards your preferred place to rest anyways. As you curl up in the empty bathtub and appreciate the cooling porcelain against the angry burning sensation of your flesh, you think about how fitting it is that you're here again. Even all these years later, you were still getting upset with him for not understanding you and yet still looking to some version of him for safety and comfort.

You were going to be better now though. Soon you would get back up, move on to your next location, and fix things.

[zablife]

Favorite Ex

Summary: When Carmy’s stress and anxiety rise to unprecedented levels, he shuts down and pushes you away. However, you can’t stop thinking about each other.

Author’s Note: Inspired by Maisie Peter’s song “Favourite Ex" and lines from S1, E5 which I've italicized.

Warnings: language, mention of fire, angst, break up, fluffy ending

Shades of orange consumed Carmy’s vision, searing heat hitting his face, neck and arms as flames rose dangerously high from the burners. His hands should have reached for the fire extinguisher instead of remaining by his side, arm hairs singing to oblivion. In that moment he wasn’t sure if he was unable or unwilling to guide himself, but he was well aware it wasn’t normal, this lack of concern for his own well being. As black smoke collected around him, the shifting light danced in his darkened pupils, but he wasn’t present, his thoughts were far away with you. 

———————-

The light flickered above the kitchen sink as he watched you fill the coffee pot, the need for caffeine growing after days of getting up before five every day this week. “Carmy, did you pay the electric bill?” you demanded with a huff. You were always short with him recently and he knew he was letting you down, but the days at the restaurant were wearing on him.

Turning back to blow smoke out the window, he rubbed his eyes, trying to recall which bills he’d been able to take care of this month. 

“Are you listening to me? They’re gonna cut you off again. I told you last week about the notice,” you said, reaching for the stack of papers piled high on the counter. Unable to find what you were looking for in the chaos, you gave up, placing your fingertips to your temples. “Look, Carmy, I know you wanted me to move here permanently, but I think that was just the grief talking.”

Carm grimaced as he flicked the cigarette butt out the window. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, you needed someone here with you after Mikey—“ you began, but he cut you off, jumping up from the window and pushing past you to stalk down the hall.

“Don’t do that!” you warned him.

“What?” he muttered as he kept walking.

“That thing you do where you walk away and don’t talk to me for days. I can’t stand it!”

He turned on his heel, facing you with clenched jaw. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to say when you tell me you’re here out of pity.”

You furrowed your brow at his accusation. “That’s not what I said. I want to be here, but not if you won’t talk to me about what’s going on with you. You just shut me out and I need more!” You’d finally said what had been on your mind for weeks now, too afraid to voice your own needs when your boyfriend was struggling with major life changes.

“Well, I can’t do that,” he shouted. His words were so harsh it felt like a stab to the back. You’d been there for him since he got the call about Mikey and sat with him night after night when he had horrific nightmares, waking covered in sweat, but unwilling to say a word about them.

“Do you know how many people need me right now? Syd and Tina are at each other’s throats, Richie’s always starting shit and Sugar’s calling me twenty times a day about meetings and talking to Ma. I don’t need this from you too. I can’t do this!” he said, body suddenly going deathly still, eyes fixing on a water stain on the wall just as the lights went out.

Observing his rigid posture, you knew he’d shut down. It was how he coped with stress and even though you hated it, you had to accept that you weren’t going to get any more out of him today. You wiped a tear from your cheek as you nodded to yourself. 

“Okay, Carmy. I’m gonna give you some space then,” you conceded, leaving him in the darkened hallway. He listened to the front door slam behind you as he rested his forehead against the adjacent doorway, knowing he’d fucked it all up and hating himself more than he already did.

——————————

“Carmy! Carmy!” A voice shouted, breaking through his haze and urging him to act. “Fire, chef!” Sweeps warned, moving up to take charge of the blaze. Carm finally moved back, shaking his head as though he were just realizing what was happening. Grabbing the fire extinguisher from the other man’s hands he pulled the pin and aimed the nozzle at the flames lapping at the stove, watching as a thick spurt of white foam issued forth. The fire died out with a sizzle and Carm breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Yo, Jeff, what happened?” Tina asked, popping her head around the corner.

“Fire’s out,” Sweeps declared, hauling the extinguisher off swiftly. Carmy turned to Tina, snapping back into work mode and asked, “Sorry, everything's fine. Did you finish your prep?” 

“Yeah, you alright?” she said with concern, glancing up and down his disheveled form.

“I need to go take care of something,” he mumbled, heading for the alley.

————————-

Your phone rang and you immediately reached to silence it, stopping when you noticed Carm’s number flash on the screen. It had been three months since you’d spoken and you wondered if you should even answer. He’d made it clear that a relationship was not what he wanted right now and you had made peace with that….until now. You had to admit you missed him.

Your best nights had been with Carmy, listening to music in his tiny kitchen as you cooked together. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your hips as he checked the progress of the sauce over your shoulder. “More garlic,” he’d say with authority. 

“Fuck your one star, I’m the chef tonight,” you always told him. His smirk told you he was pleased with your assertiveness, happy not to have make any decisions for the night. However, your need to take charge caused your worst fights as well. You wanted Carm to talk about Mikey and the more you pushed, the more he retreated from you. He said you didn’t understand, but you cared deeply, wanting to help him through his grief. Simply wanting to take care for him if only he'd let you.

The buzzing from your phone continued and you finally decided to pick up, more eager than you should have been to hear his voice again. You cleared your throat anxiously before answering with a shaky, “Carmy?”

“Y/n? Sorry, I know it’s late,” he apologized.

“S’okay. What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you picked at your pajama bottoms nervously.

“We had a fire at the restaurant today,” he began.

“Oh, my God, Carm, are you okay?” you blurted, worried about how calm he sounded despite what he’d just told you.

“Yeah, yeah. It was just a grease fire, you know? But the point is, I realized something. I was watching it and I had a minute where I thought—If I don’t do anything, this place will burn down and all my anxiety will go away with it,” he sighed heavily and your heart nearly broke at the sound, listening to him open up to you in a way you knew was difficult for him. 

“And then I put the fire out,” he finished. “I snapped out of it and I realized I’ve been avoiding a lot of things….I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t think I could handle it all. Like I was waiting for Mikey to come back and fix all the fucked up shit he left, but I’m done with that. I want live my life for me.”

You nodded into the phone, lip trembling as you replied, “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“I haven’t slept without you. I’ve cried for weeks. Nothing feels right without you, but I’m going to start making some changes around here and I hope you’ll come back,” he said, swallowing harshly as he awaited your answer. 

You searched the ceiling, wanting to say yes right away, but knowing how Carmy’s mood could change on a dime. “That sounds really good so let’s start with dinner first, ok?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he rushed out, relieved to hear you would see him again. “You free Thursday?”

“Thursday? Sure,” you agreed. 

Then you heard him breathe into the phone as though he was letting out an anxious breath. “You still like chicken piccata?” he asked and you smiled, knowing he remembered your favorite. 

“Only if you let me help make the sauce,” you countered. “Fucking one star,” you quipped. You heard him laugh and it warmed your heart.

You liked the thought of calling him that again instead of your ex. He was your favorite ex, but that wasn't really a consolation. You hoped things were changing for the better, but only time would tell.

[taurusdaylight]

[1.48am] attention

in the span of three hours, you finished one episode of the drama that you’ve been watching lately, took a shower, and even managed to take a short nap. you’d thought that jeno would be done with his game by then, but he wasn’t. instead, you re-entered his bedroom and saw him still glued to his desk, just as he was a few hours ago. very much immersed in his game, jeno continued to backface you, seemingly not noticing your presence yet.

you walked over to him and stood next to his chair. after a few seconds, jeno finally looked up at you and smiled. however, the attention was short-lived because his gaze soon returned to his desktop screen. 

you made a face at his behaviour. was his computer game seriously more important than you, his girlfriend? you were used to the long hours that jeno spent on his computer, but he should still know his limits. 

“jeno,” you called out.

“hmm?” he replied, eyes still fixed on his desktop.

your frown deepened. “can you look at me when i’m talking to you?”

“give me five minutes, baby. it’s the last round.”

“that’s what you said just now…” the disappointment in your voice was apparent, but it was seemingly unimportant to jeno, who merely said that it was really the last round and that he would be done soon. he went back to shouting over the headset, giving directions to haechan.

letting out a deep sigh, you gave up trying to get his attention and climbed onto his bed. your patience was running thin, and you were so close to turning off the main switch so that jeno would have no choice but to stop his game. perhaps, that was the only way to get him to finally go to bed with you. thankfully, your rationality was still intact so that didn’t progress to anything further than an intrusive thought in your head. as much as you were upset at him, doing that would most likely trigger the start of an ugly fight that you absolutely did not want to partake in.

you tugged the ends of the blanket and tried to make yourself comfortable on his bed. it was difficult to ignore the empty space beside you when usually you’d be enveloped in jeno’s arms, feeling safe in his embrace. even his polar bear plush toy didn’t offer much comfort to you. a part of you knew that you were being a little dramatic, but if jeno wasn’t going to spend time with you, then he shouldn’t have called you over in the first place. there was not much of a difference between this and staying at home, and you’d much rather opt for the latter if you knew that jeno was going to game all night long. 

you continuously tossed and turned in bed, still unable to fall asleep. you don’t even know how much time had passed until jeno finally said goodbye to haechan. not in the mood to talk with him in fear that you might vent your anger on him, you closed your eyes once you heard jeno shut down the desktop, footsteps gliding across the wooden-tiled floor as he approached the bed.

“baby, are you asleep?” jeno asked. 

you kept quiet, hoping that he wouldn’t catch onto your act of pretence. even though it was a petty move on your part, you thought that he deserved it for prioritising his computer game over you. 

jeno’s side of the bed dipped down as he got under the covers. he inched closer to you until his chest was pressed against your back, wrapping his arm around your comparably smaller frame. 

“are you mad?” jeno’s voice came out rather timidly. he caressed your arm with his thumb before he said, “i’m really sorry i lost track of time.”

if there was one thing that you hated more than jeno choosing his games over you, it would be going to sleep being angry at him. no matter how big or small, your past arguments were always resolved quickly because the both of you couldn’t stay mad at each other for a long time. this time was no exception. so you opened your eyes and stared at the blank wall for a while before you turned to face jeno.

“make it up to me,” you said, looking him straight in the eye.

jeno made a sound of confusion, so you repeated your words. “make it up to me.”

jeno seemed to have gotten the hint the second time as he tenderly grabbed the side of your face with his free hand. he moved his face closer to yours, slowly tilting his head at an angle before sealing your lips together with a mellow kiss. 

soft. jeno’s lips felt so soft brushing against yours, you found yourself leaning in to lessen the already small gap between the both of you. hand placed at the nape of his neck, you hastily pulled him in as though it would help in getting a closer taste of his lips. you could feel the corners of his mouth curl upwards as he slowed down, but he still made sure that his lips never left yours, giving you the attention that he ought to have given you hours ago. 

after a few moments of back and forth, jeno gradually pulled back. he left one final peck on your lips before he stopped completely. 

“am i forgiven?” jeno breathed.

you shot him a smile, “yes.”

jeno’s hands travelled down to your waist as he hugged you. “thanks, baby. i promise i won’t do it next time.”

“next time?” you glared at him. “what do you mean? i won’t let it go so easily if there’s a next time.”

jeno looked at you with a glint of sheepiness in his gaze. “well, yeah… but you know, i would always make it up to you.”

“that’s not going to work,” you deadpanned.

“you don’t want me to kiss you?” jeno asked with a pout.

“i do, but you can’t just kiss me and expect to get away with it every time.”

“why not? i’ll give you even more kisses,” jeno said as he slightly lifted his head up from the pillow to demonstrate it by peppering your face with small kisses, listing all of the possible places that he could kiss you. 

jeno’s sudden display of affection caused you to let out a long breath. there was no way you could argue against that, he always knew exactly how to appease you. pushing him away slightly to coax him to stop because it was too much for your weak heart to handle, you said, “okay, i got it… just go to sleep.” 

jeno laid back down to his original position, his arm returning to hug your body. “i love you, baby. when we wake up, we can do whatever you want. my entire day is yours,” he promised. 

you snuggled into jeno’s chest, taking in his comforting scent. “i love you too.”

[caxycreations]

Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den

Chapter Seventeen: Assistance

Note: You can also read this on AO3 or Wattpad!

*** Ferusian Law, Twelfth Sequence, Article Three: Law of Armament Ferusian Citizens are entitled to the ownership and possession of legal firearms and other weaponry as designated in the Agency’s ‘L.A.M.B. Act’, or Legal Arms Made Buyable Act.

The L.A.M.B. Act entitles citizens to purchase any weapon listed at any distributor as they please, and are free to rent weapons that are present on the list at any public weapons testing facility provided the facility adheres to the Agency’s guidelines as set by the L.A.M.B. Act.

Ownership or unjustified possession of any weapon not present in the documentation of the L.A.M.B. Act is a violation of federal law and is punishable by seizure and possibly the destruction of the weaponry, a fine no less than 20% and no more than 60% of the guilty party’s annual income, and up to, but not exceeding, twenty years imprisonment. ***

It’s been two weeks since I started working for Kaleb. After that night, I’d brushed my poor state of being off as just having been a rough first shift. David hadn’t pressed too hard, thankfully. I’d taken a little time that day to get to David’s apartment before he got a chance to see what Jonas had done to it. Fixed it up, cleaned it, passed off any hint of disturbance as me rooting around and forgetting where things went. I hated lying to him, but better he not know the danger there. I didn’t want him afraid. We’d moved his things to my house, though he still hadn’t touched any of the boxes yet, a week after getting them there.

Work had been, as far as working for Kaleb goes, good. My co-workers liked me, and I liked them. I finally had people I could be a little less gentle with, people that didn’t feel like cardboard to me. I guess they thought the same of me. Kaleb hadn’t given me anymore...overtime, since that day either. Jonas and the other guy wound up in prison, on more than a few charges, and I got slapped with a warning against lethal force when they saw what I’d done.

A warning was too good, if the feeling in my stomach was anything to go by. But I wasn’t going to tell them that. I lay in bed, thinking all of this over, struggling to sleep. It was the fifth day in a row I’d been unable to get to sleep properly, and even David’s gentle, quiet snoring beside me wasn’t enough to lull me to dreamland. I sent a silent prayer to Fina, begging for rest, but it didn’t amount to anything. Another hour went by, and still no sleep.

As time passed, the sun slowly came up from the horizon, and the blackout curtains did their jobs perfectly, the light visible against them but only barely leaking into the room, giving it a similar look to the last moments before the sun gave up the sky for the moon. With the sun rose David, stretching out beside me and letting out a mewling yawn. 

He cuddled up to me, purring quietly, the corners of his mouth turned upwards as he nestled in close to me beneath the covers. I wrapped an arm around him and he opened his eyes, blinking to rid them of sleep, failing, and rubbing it away with one hand instead. He looked up at me, and I looked back with a soft smile, hoping it would hide my exhaustion.

He frowned, sitting up to look at me more directly. “Rye, you okay? You look awful…” He said softly. Leave it to him to fill me with confidence, I reckon. I shook my head, figuring there was no point in playing at being alright when he’d already realized I wasn’t. Maybe he could help me. Or maybe I’d regret showing the weakness. Only one way to find out, and I was too tired to care which way it went. I took a breath, ready to explain everything, to tell him the truth of the last couple of weeks.

“I’m good, Davey, jus’ tired. Workin’ security’s a little stressful, dealin’ with all the folks that jus’ can’t seem t’ act right.” I lied, staring into those big, innocent eyes. I couldn’t tell him after all. I cursed in my head, smiling softly at David as I did. “Lot of roughhousin’ an’ troublemakers, keeps me a bit on th’ stressed side.” I continued to lie, letting my shoulders go slack and fixing my posture a little in the process. I hope he believed me.

He nodded, smiling back at me. “Okay big guy. Anything a certain caxy could do to...relieve the stress?” he asked, his hand trailing up my leg, slow and deliberate. I put my hand over his, stopping it, and chuckled a little. I shook my head at him. I’d been warming up to the idea of it over the last couple of weeks, but now wasn’t the time. Not when I had this on my mind, I needed to be present for that. I needed to make it worth the wait for him.

“If you’re sure, but at least let me make you breakfast then. If you aren’t up for eating me, you should still eat something.” he teased. I chuckled a little, shaking my head at the lewd little caxy. He stood up, stretching and showing off his bare chest and stomach, the fur soft and inviting, his hips wiggling a little at the end. I rolled my eyes, adjusting to lay on my side to wait for him to bring my food.

As David kissed my cheek and hopped out of bed, I thanked Malor that, for what it was worth, I had a day off today. I could sleep in, or go out, or anything. I must have dozed off, the sudden shake from David plopping down beside me again and the smell of breakfast hitting me rousing me from rest. I smiled, sitting up and turning to kiss him, soft and sweet. He purred into the kiss before placing the plate in my lap.

It was piled high with bacon, brisket, eggs, and sausage, and I could smell the pepper dousing it all. He certainly knew how to please me when it came to food. I had to wonder what else he could do to...No, another time, not now. I smiled as I took to the food, trying my best to savor it and failing, wolfing it down with glee.

David giggled, sitting cross-legged, still as bare as when he woke, simply watching me. I let out a growl of appreciation, light and happy. “Well I’m glad to see you’re enjoying the food, want some privacy with it?” he asked, giggling more. I laughed through a mouth full of egg and sausage before noticing where he was looking, glancing down to a slowly building tent in my boxers. I felt my cheeks heat up, the tips of my ears doing the same as I shifted a little, still eating.

“Sorry ‘bout that, ‘tween th’ view you’re givin’ an’ th’ food bein’ this good, ain’t somethin’ I can help.” I apologized. He smiled, laughing a little at the explanation. He hopped off the bed again, heading for the closet and waving his butt at me in the process of looking through it. I went back to eating, focusing on the food and enjoying every bite. It tasted savory, with a bite to it from the pepper, and I couldn’t get enough.

When I finally looked up, he was dressed, holding a pair of my pants and a shirt of mine, tossing them my way. I lifted the plate defensively. “Hey!” I said indignantly, worried he might have messed up my food, but seeing it was fine as the clothes landed a foot or so away from me. He laughed, smiling as he skipped over to the bed.

His own outfit was a pair of brown khaki cargo pants with a plain, black, off-the-shoulder, long-sleeve shirt. “Oh come on, your food’s fine.” He trilled, giggling more. I rolled my eyes, scarfing down the rest of my food before grabbing the clothes he’d thrown me, climbing out of bed and getting dressed. “Now hurry up!” he urged, heading out of the bedroom. I could hear him padding towards the hallway, quieter with every step.

I adjusted my clothes, making sure I was presentable, before following. David was standing at the hallway, bouncing in place and smiling at me. “So~ I was thinking we should go on a date!” he said, holding up a small stub of paper. I leaned in and read the text printed on it, eyes going wide and jaw slack as I did so.

“Davey, what the-” I stammered, re-reading the text. The stub read ‘Table for Two, David Warren Seltz and guest Ryder Arturia Trayson, Sunday, 2:15pm’ in bold, golden print on black paper. Beneath the names and reservation time was a stylized and intricately written name: ‘En Seluria’. The most expensive place in Tylvin, inaccessible to all but the wealthiest in town. All but those with savings like David’s. I had to re-read it a few times to fully process that it was real. 

I looked back at David, raising an eyebrow, half furrowing my brows as I did. “Davey, don’t tell me ya spent th’ cash to grab a table at this place. Expensive as they are? C’mon, tell me it’s a joke…” I pleaded. Six hundred just for a table, Malor only knows how much their food would cost, and the last thing I wanted was David spending that much.

He giggled. “It’s not like I’m broke, big guy. Come on, it’ll be fun!” He insisted. I shook my head, wondering what possessed him to shell out that kind of money for a first date. “Besides, after everything, you deserve a chance to be taken care of instead of trying so hard to take care of everyone else, and you know it! So no ‘buts’, mister!” He said with a certain amount of finality. I nodded, looking over the slip of paper one more time before handing it back.

A glance at the clock told me we were a good four hours from the reservation. That must have been why he made such a big breakfast, so that the portions at the restaurant wouldn’t seem so disappointing. “So we got time t’ kill before we gotta go to this reservation, what’s the plan?” I asked, cocking my head a little to the side, the ear on the other side dropping back in curiosity. David giggled, heading out the door and towards the sidewalk, pulling his phone out and dialing something on it. I followed, and stopped beside him. Something about his energy, his insistence, was hard to turn down. Even harder still was trying to stay upset at the lengths he was going to, with David bouncing in place and smiling like he was, even as he called for a cab.

He smiled up at me once he finished his call, locking the screen and putting his phone away. “I’ve got a whoooole day planned out for you. You’ve got a meet-up with someone at the shooting range for an hour, then a cab’s gonna pick you up from there, and you’re gonna get in it and let them drop you off somewhere nice and comfy, and spend another hour there, then I’ll be waiting for you at a park nearby, you’ll be walking to that cause I know you like to,” he said with a trill, “and then we’ll spend a little time there, and-”

I cut him off, holding a hand up with a smile. “Davey, take a breath, won’t ya?” I laughed. “Ya done set up a whole dang day for me? C’mon, what’s got ya doin’ this?” I asked, curious about what could have possibly possessed him to do all of this, to arrange it all just for me. He smiled, putting a hand on his hip and looking at me with that signature Seltz Stare, the one he and Davina had always known how to do. It screamed ‘isn’t it obvious’, as if it should be.

“Rye, you’ve been stressed out like crazy lately, and I’m not as gullible as you think I am~” He said with a pointed tone that left me feeling a little guilty for underestimating him. “Something’s wrong, and you won’t tell me the real reason. But! If I can’t fix the source, I can at least make the symptoms easier, right? So that’s what I’m doing.” His voice never wavered, and his eyes never left mine.

I had to give him more credit in the future. I thought he bought every word, but I guess he was a good actor. As the cab pulled up next to us, he opened the door and giggled. “If you wouldn’t mind~?” He invited, urging me to get in. I looked at the driver, holding a hand up to let him know it’d be just a second before I got in, earning a nod from the awdie in the driver’s seat.

I looked at David. “Now where ya gonna be while I’m havin’ this dog day out’a mine?” I asked. David smiled, closing his eyes and shrugging dramatically at me, his tail slashing at the air behind him playfully as he did so. “No clue, probably just sit at home waiting, might watch a little Lucky Duke.” He said. I raised an eyebrow at that, folding my arms over my chest and waiting for his real answer. He just kept smiling up at me, waiting for me to get into the taxi. He’d wait for a while if he didn’t answer me soon.

I cocked my head to one side. “An’ is that why ya got all dressed up like ya did? T’sit at home an’ do nothin’?” I asked. He grinned up at me, winking at me and folding his arms over his chest, mimicking my own stance as his tail swayed behind him. His eyes twinkled with a mischievous light and I started assuming he had no intention of telling me.

He gave me a boyish grin and I knew for sure he didn’t. “A caxy can dress however they want for any reason they want. I don’t get all dolled up just for you, mister~” he said playfully. “Now stop wasting this poor cabbie’s time and gooooo!” he insisted, urging me to get into the cab with his hands. I laughed, nodding. I might as well humor him, after all the trouble he went through arranging the day for me.

I was about to shut the door when he leaned in, kissing me with a soft purr, his lips pressed to mine gently, soft and pliant. I growled appreciatively and was about to reach up to cup his cheek when he pulled away, waving at me with a sly smile as he shut my door for me. I heard a scoff from the cab driver, and I was about to question him when I noticed his face in the mirror. He wasn’t upset, the smile on his face looked genuine. Guess I didn’t need to be defensive then.

The drive was mostly quiet, the driver focused more on the road and the radio than trying to chat, which I was grateful for. I wasn’t against talking to a stranger, I enjoyed it actually. But I was mulling over what sort of twists David might have in mind for me. When we did pull up to the range, I saw my first surprise and couldn’t help but smile, glad to see a familiar and eager face ready to greet me at the doors.

I stepped out of the cab, thanking the driver and shutting the door before turning my attention to the caxy in the green jacket by the door to the range. Moss was smiling at me, waving. They were in their usual green jacket, but today they were sporting a white tee shirt underneath and a pair of tan khakis. They smiled wider as I approached and ran at me, hugging me tight. I was glad the injuries had healed up as well as they had by now, or they might have hurt me.

They looked up at me as I hugged back, laughing. “Glad you made it! Uncle David said you might be a few minutes late, but you’re actually a little early.” they said, turning for the door and heading over to it. “Well, Davey didn’t exactly tell me what was goin’ on. He jus’ called a cab an’ told me all th’ places I’d be goin’ today.” I explained. They nodded, giggling a little.

“That sounds about right, a very Uncle David thing to do!” they said with a smile before stopping at the counter. Weapons of all kinds were laid out on the counter, protected by heavy-duty flexglass. Necessary precaution, and no joke either. I couldn’t break through it if I tried, the stuff would crack and splinter but it would never break apart. Bulletproof and bludgeonproof all in one go.

Under the glass of the counter were handguns, sidearms of all kinds, everything from peashooters to hand cannons and all the stuff in between. Moss stared at the lineup. We’d come here a hundred times, and their inventory was in constant rotation. Made for a fun new experience every time we dropped by. Today was a lot of Carlisle Technologies stock. Not as good as the Bolt stuff, but made for different reasons so it wasn’t too bad of a trade.

Moss lit up when they saw the pistol at the far end. The label read CT-450 Chamberlain. They tapped the glass and waved the clerk over, who smiled. The panda manning the counter gave a grin and nodded. “Solid pick, friend. Carlisle Tech, so you know it packs a punch. Forty-Five magnum rounds, CT formula for the powder packs twice the whollop of the Bolt stuff, with half the amount. Looking to buy or just after a trial?”

I recognized the pitch, and I had to stifle a laugh. He was looking to sell some of the junk CT had sent him, that much was obvious. Between the fact CT guns could jam and the fact they weren’t nearly as versatile, it was hard to see them as worth it. Moss shook their head and smiled. “Just a trial, I haven’t gotten to fire a Chamberlain yet!” the eager little hybrid said. The panda laughed, nodding and unlocking the sliding panel on his side of the counter, pulling the gun from the case and setting it on top.

After giving him my ID and signing some forms, Moss was free to take the gun to the range room. I looked through the selection on the counter, but none of it was of any interest to me. I looked to the back wall, equally protected, smiling at the rifles, shotguns, auto-rifles, burst rifles...They had it all today, and it made it hard to pick what I wanted to try out. I only had an hour, I wanted to make it a good one.

My eyes settled on a hefty looking gun to the right of the clerk. It was big, and it looked like some sort of rifle, but I had no idea what it was. I pointed to it, and the clerk turned to look. “That thing? First of it’s kind. Magnetic Ammunition Kinetic Rifle, packaging had it shortened to ‘MAKR’. Not too sure what else to call it, so I’ve just been callin’ it a Maker. Nobody’s been brave enough to try it out so I’m not too sure what it’s like.” he explained, shrugging.

I grinned, eager to see what it could do. “That’n. That’s what I wanna try.” I said, holding a hand out. He nodded, sliding the glass open and pulling the gun from the rack, arms dropping suddenly as the weight of the weapon shifted from rack to him. He struggled with it, setting it gingerly on the counter. I took hold of it with both hands, gauging the weight before chuckling. I picked it up with one hand, looking it over.

The clerk’s arms dropped to his sides and he looked from my hand to the gun. “That damn thing weighs a ton, how’re you doing that?” He asked, incredulous. I smiled and shrugged, looking over the gun. I noticed a few things pretty quickly. The first being there was nowhere for a magazine to be inserted, but there was nowhere to load rounds individually either. Far as I could tell, it didn’t have any loading mechanism at all. Even Moss was speechless, staring at the weird device in my hand, looking it over with the eyes of a true gun-nut.

“How’s this thing work? D’ya know?” I asked. No safety, no way to load it, the gun was bizarre to say the least. He nodded, reaching down to grab a mid-sized box and after a moment of looking around, a smaller box. I recognized the second one, ammunition for Moss’ choice. The hybrid smiled, grabbing their box.

As the clerk set the box in front of me, he opened it. Inside were what looked to me like the butt of the gun, several of them, detached. They had small plugs on one side, and the clerk gestured to the counter. I sat the gun down, waiting. “Alright, accordin’ to the manual, if I’m readin’ it right…” A small demonstration later and I understood. The butt was actually a battery pack, it could plug into the gun and lock in place. Fire enough and it drains, so you needed a bunch to keep going.

After signing the forms for the gun, I took Moss to the range room off to one side. We picked our lanes and I looked over at them. “Ya ready t’ see what this thing can do?” I asked, grinning as I double-pulled the trigger about half a pull, the way the clerk showed me to turn the gun on. Moss nodded excitedly, standing to the side and watching down my lane.

They grinned. “If this thing fires, like, a ball of plasma, I am absolutely dibs’ing the next shot!” they said. I laughed, nodding and taking aim. I could hear the gun whirring, the mechanism and tech inside charging up and doing whatever it was that it did. A soft clicking noise indicated it was charged, and I could feel the soft rumble of the devices inside, hear the whirring of moving parts. Rapidly moving parts.

I braced myself, adjusting my stance and readying myself for whatever kick might be there. I usually didn’t worry much, but this gun was new, and heavy. I could feel it’s weight, and that was new to me. I pulled the trigger. The gun made a sound like steel being shredded apart, followed by what could only be described as a giant mote of light, like the kind you see when you’ve been hit too hard, or stood up too quickly, bursting from the barrel.

I never even saw the projectile move. I’d seen it leave the barrel but that was it, the gun jerking backwards, even with it pressed tight to my shoulder it had kicked like hell, and my arm was sore from it. I grinned, feeling an ache in my shoulder, and I looked at the target. Where the head and chest of the target had been was a scorched and broken thing, barely remnants. Moss laughed, smiling wide and celebrating.

“Yes! Yes! It actually shot plasma, I was just kidding, I didn’t expect it to really do that!” They cried. I set the gun down, looking at it. Moss ran over, looking it over and then up at me. “Uncle Ryder, can I?” They asked, looking up at me with pleading eyes. I shook my head, that small ache in my arm quickly turning into a much deeper one. That gun had kick like nothing I’d seen, and if it was hurting me this much it would break Moss for sure.

I shook my head again and picked up the gun. “Nah, this things’ goin’ back t’ th’ clerk. I ain’t down with firin’ this thing an’ it’ll hurt ya way more’n it does me if’n you do.” I said, heading for the door to the main section. If ranges were starting to get firepower like this for people to shoot for recreational purposes, it worried me.

After swapping the gun out for a burst rifle, I rejoined Moss at the range. We spent some time shooting, swapping weapons now and then. The little hybrid was getting more and more accurate with every trip, and it made me proud to see them showing responsibility with how they treated the guns. But before I knew it, my phone was going off, David texting me that it was time to go. A quick check with Moss and a reassurance that Trace would be there any minute was enough for me, and I got in the cab as soon as it arrived, leaving my nephew with a hug and a pat on the back.

The cab took me across town to a spa, dropping me off at the door. I looked it over, it was a pretty nice place. Seemed like one of the fancy ones, from the outside. I went inside and was greeted by a clerk at the counter who, after getting my name, mentioned I was set to be given the VIP package. Full service. I was a little nervous, seen one too many movies with this kind of thing, but it turned out to be just fine.

They led me to a small room with a table and instructed me to undress as much as I felt comfortable doing. I wasn’t too pressed, stripped down out of everything and got ready on the table. For a while I lay there getting the best massage of my life. The worker assigned to me was Gaian-Blessed, that much was clear. The little pheasant couldn’t have possibly dug into me the way they did otherwise.

When the massage was over I was led to another room, and for a time I soaked in a mud bath that they assured me was full of stuff that was good for the fur and the skin. I didn’t care, I knew I could shower if I felt dirty after all this. Eventually, I had to go, making use of their showers to rinse the mud off me. I had to admit, my fur did feel ten times softer than usual, and my body felt loose, light. It’d been a long time since I’d felt this relaxed, and I was grateful David had set me up with this. Speaking of David…

I checked my phone. The hour was up, and it was time to head to the park. It wasn’t far. A short walk later and I could see David sitting on a bench, looking at his phone and dancing in place like he was listening to music. I laughed a little, making my way over and sitting down. He perked up as he realized I was there, throwing his arms around me and hugging me, his lips meeting mine in a sweet kiss.

He giggled as we separated, and I could hear him purring. “Hey big guy! Enjoy your day~?” He asked. I nodded, and he smiled wide. “Good! Cause I’d have to beat you up if you didn’t!” He declared confidently. I laughed a little and he giggled, nudging me. “Come on, let’s walk around the park a little.” He offered, standing up and stretching. We did that for some time, talking about my day. I tried getting answers out of him as to what he’d been doing, but he was as cryptic and avoidant of the subject as he had been earlier.

Standing by a fountain, David checked the phone. We’d been there for a while, wandering and taking in the scenery, and judging by his smile it must have been close to time to go. “All good there, Davey?” I asked, cocking my head to one side. He nodded and giggled.

“It’s time to go, we need to get there before our reservation.” He explained. So I’d been right. I nodded and was about to head towards the restaurant when David stopped me, holding up his phone and, with a jump to put us at eye-level with each other, snapped a picture. He double-checked the image and, satisfied, put away his phone.

“Ya done, or do we need t’ take a few dozen more like ‘Vina would?” I asked. David laughed, shaking his head and patting my arm. 

“Nope! We’re good to go, big guy.” He said, smiling up at me. I nodded, taking hold of his hand. We headed for the restaurant and, for the first time in a long time, I actually found myself looking forward to going out with someone. Maybe it was because I wasn’t so torn up about anything right now...

 Or maybe it was because I was finally going out with my caxy.

[dollmother]

she called me a bop once. i was shocked but didn’t protest. maybe i just craved admiration so badly all my life i went after every chance i had to obtain it. even if it meant lying, reciprocating so that they gave me more and more. even if i didn’t genuinely feel the same, i kept up a disguise and remained an idea to all of them. i didn’t understand what love was, so it was all i wanted to feel.

and when all of them showed me, i threw it away. still not knowing what it meant.

experiencing a foreign concept all my life and still unable to grasp its meaning. perhaps it was a lack of emotional empathy. i just did not get..why? i tried to learn from others by using them. that was never my intention, yet all that i did felt like breathing. then you hear something say, “you’re now manually breathing”, and realize:

these are what consequences are to someone who intellectualizes their emotions instead of feeling them all the time. i would not see the blood on my hands until i touched my face with them.

remorse comes and goes for me only when i force myself to feel it. because i should. it is my shield to deflect claims that i’m utterly heartless. but more importantly a cage that will keep me from using others for admiration and hurting them in the process. though it never really works for long. certain things like profound jealousy trigger me and i lose all the will i had to suppress my maladaptive tendencies back. i forget who i really am in the moment and become my true self. i regress to being the very thing i hate so much then ruin every good thing my restrained self worked to build. i sabotage every single close relationship eventually. i know how to stop, just not how to keep it up for longer than a fleeting moment.

i wonder if it’s really possible to change who you are. or who you have internalized yourself to be. everyone had already laid out this brick road for me. they could sense who i am and that unsettled them greatly. those with a good heart and kind eyes mistook me for who i truly was. i took that faith with my bare, bloodied hands and tore it to shreds in a fit of wrath, the grotesque reward for their compassion.

it feels much too good to stop, yet i must for the sake of others and myself. my brain, wired to yearn and crave, my body programmed to desire the sensation… i am intoxicated to the euphoria of attention. my well has always been empty. it was never built correctly so each time the hole was filled with water—

it would leak into the ground, dissipate into nothing and leaving me patched and begging. nothing ever feels enough. no one could keep me from feeling empty because there was something fundamentally wrong with me that i had to fix.

i live my life in shackled restraint, clinging to the belief that i’m immutable. i wish i could remain that way constantly. instead of breaking the chains every now and then in a flailing tantrum. i repress my anger too often. never knowing how to release the excess softly. in this cycle i harbor rage and wound myself and then my ire grows until i can’t bottle it anymore. then i harm others and then myself in ways i thought would soften the blow. i am an emotionally violent person though i tell myself i should be lucky that violence is reactive and self inflicted. that inner rage is no fault but my own and i don’t know how to stop it.

my once-therapist is too agreeable with me. i guess that’s what happens when i hide parts of myself i should’ve shared. though not even half the things i’ll say would land me a spot in a facility somewhere. and maybe it worked, because i was fine when i had someone to talk to with no reservations. but maybe i really wasn’t. my ego would not allow me to be so vulnerable with someone who wasn’t my even my friend, who did not know me, who could possibly never understand who i am. that was it, i believed i could fix myself in arrogance. i had known everything there was to my problems- yet my body fails each time to execute the vision. i could carve myself into another form, i want to. no tool could ever cut me the way discipline does.

there is a friend in my head that tells me to do reprehensible things time to time. he barges in suddenly and frustrates me greatly with his rancor. i say this not able to admit we might be the same person. or rather he is the culmination of all the darkness i’ve internalized throughout my childhood. i would take these thoughts to the grave, because i don’t think anyone would see me the same or have any kind of sympathy. they are just compulsions that don’t reflect my nature, though they stem from my darkest fears of who i could become if i don’t stop myself. i am afraid to succumb to this heartless, depraved, insatiable nature latent in my core. i look at myself in disgust and shame at the possibility if i listened. there is so much deviant violence that i spurn and spurn and try desperately to banish but it won’t go away! i am mentally unwell, and i need something that will make me catatonic.

i hate him, the unwelcome guest in this fragile home. i pocket a deep rooted hatred for my biology. this vessel hides an innate malice i cannot seem to rid myself of. then again, maybe this is who i really am and i’ve tried to futility to ignore this shadow. my thoughts are tangled in a perpetual struggle. where i, sylvie, wrest for control over this unnamed parasite dwelling in the annals of my mind. when i lose for a moment, ties sever and bridges burn. i am speaking metaphorically if no one could tell. it’s easier to blame my twisted nature on some hypothetical ego nesting within myself. some way to alleviate myself for just the slim chance that i am not too far gone. not being myself would cure me.

i am still myself in all the good ways.

i hate myself less in many ways, though that loathing lingers like the old fragments of me.

i should think less about things i could do and more of what i cannot. i forget, always forget and drive myself on selfish motives. and i cope with the feeling that nothing ever matters. nothing matters at all so i could do whatever the hell i wanted to and not feel guilty. that is the most terrible ideal to have. deep down i crave to be in a world where i am truly free to do anything i want; purely acting on selfish interests. that is the worst possible thing to crave so badly. to be free from remorse, fear, the obligation to restrain the ugly parts of yourself.

what am i without my impulses? they betray me constantly. could i learn to relinquish that? oh it makes everything so much more difficult. learning discipline would fix me. like putting a muzzle on a rabid, injured dog.

i remember when i still had potential as a child. i could’ve been a great writer by the age of 28 had i acted on that impulse. yet, here i am now only 24, feeling the bridge in front of me slowly collapsing under my own weight. each step feels heavy; i’ve lost my grace in the swirl of despair at my limitations. the ropes suspend me in the air, feet grounded on the rotting wood. i dangle in standstill fear to take the next step. i always feared of becoming my mother. the one solace that kept me sane was that i was better than her when it came to awareness. i was a better person because i knew who i was and how to stop destroying everything in my way. yet the more i think about how my life is going,

i have come to realize i am standing exactly where my mother did when she was younger. i loathed myself pitifully for being just like her—-

and i believed somehow i could avert it. maybe it’s not too late to still try.

and i have tried and tried yet i still keep doing it. why do i keep repeating my own mistakes like i’ve lost control of my mind and functions of my flesh? the compulsions overcome me and i forget how to restrain myself.

[intofclklore]

erin’s never been to a harrington family christmas party, nor would she like to attend one, but she can assume that they’re unbearable without something to drink to get through it. this is more or less proven as fact for her when a very drunk steve harrington calls her at the end of the night. 

it’s around eleven, on christmas eve. she’d been in bed with a book, unable to sleep but knowing she should be trying. it’s weird being back in this bed, even though it’s only been a few months since she left for school. she’d just gotten used to her new room, her new mattress, and now she’s here again. steve’s voice is a welcomed distraction from that. she can hear the rustle of sheets in the background of steve’s slurred speech and knows she’s not the only one in bed.

“you could have woken my parents with the phone, steve,” she chastises him, but her tone’s not harsh. he didn’t, so it’s fine. 

they don’t have a landline in their room. it’s just in the kitchen, and in erin’s room. ‘so you can talk to all your friends,’ her mother had said when she insisted they put the second phone in her room a few years ago. it had felt like a waste at the time since she didn’t speak to anyone on the phone regularly, and it felt like an even bigger one now that the phone occupied the room and she didn’t. 

“‘m sorry… wanted to talk to you… wanted to say merry christmas…” even drunk, he manages to make erin’s stomach do flips. 

she reminds herself she’s the one who had told him they needed to slow things down, she needed more time. a couple of good weeks weren’t going to fix everything between them. but she can’t deny… sometimes she really can’t remember why she’d ever make such a dumb decision. 

“merry christmas, steve,” she says back to him. she’s whispering, both for the sake of her sleeping parents, and because she feels the need to match steve’s own soft spoken, low voice. it sounds particularly deep over the phone, she can almost feel the rumble of it. it makes her palms sweat. 

she asks about his family’s party. he asks what her own plans are. he wants to know when he’ll see her, if he’ll see her, before she leaves again.

he has a gift for her.

more stomach flips.

“you don’t have to give me anything,” she insists. “i didn’t… i didn’t get you anything.” she tries not to remember the last time she gave him a gift, how things had fallen apart so quickly after that. no correlation, but she still connects the two things in her mind. it’s hard not to. 

“that’s okay,” he says, and she believes him, but she still hates receiving presents if she’s not giving something in return. it leaves her with a sick, guilty feeling that lingers into the new year. 

money’s been tight with the munson family. it always is, but the past year has been especially rough with everything happening in hawkins plus erin going off to school. her scholarship covers most things, but she’s still working a part time job in between classes and soccer, and her parents have been helping. her gift buying money wasn’t as much as she’d have liked. that meant homemade gifts for the girls on her team and her roommate at the dorms, thrifted things for her parents, and the one nice gift going to eddie. she thinks he deserves it the most after everything. 

“i’d feel bad,” she admits to him. then she pauses, curiosity getting the better of her. “what is it though?” 

his laughter makes her heart race. “you’ll see,” he tells her. 

and maybe it’s just because it’ll be an excuse to see him, but she doesn’t argue. she’ll steal something from the kitchen to take him in return. there’s nothing home baked, but the store bought christmas cookies are better than anything her or her family members could possibly make would be. 

instead of telling him this, or saying anything else sweet, she tells him, “i’ll bring you the coal you deserve.” 

it’s her version of flirting, but it’s not even true. steve deserves holiday cheer and gifts more than almost anyone in hawkins. in all of indiana, even. he doesn’t seem to take it to heart, laughing again. 

but then, his tone shifts as he asks, “yeah? have i been naughty this year?”

something warm turns in the pit of her stomach, and she almost coughs into the phone, choking on her own breath. steve’s voice is low, almost… no. 

she doesn’t want to say it’s suggestive. 

but it kind of is. 

erin absolutely does not know how to respond to this, not in the way to escalate something like this. he probably does, and thinking about him knowing how to do this makes her cheeks burn even more. 

“erin?” he prompts, when she’s silent for too long. 

her voice cracks when she speaks. “yeah?” she clears her throat. “yeah, sorry. uh, no. you’ve… you’ve been a really good guy this year.” 

if she’s trying to have a touching holiday moment, steve isn’t picking up on it. “yeah? have i been a good boy?” 

her eyes go wide. “steve!”

he cackles, sounding like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. 

“you’re drunk, go to bed,” she tells him.

“i’m in bed,” he replies, petulant. 

“you know what i mean. go to sleep.”

he does, but not right away. neither of them hang up yet, erin managing to stumble through the goodnights and goodbyes while her face slowly cools. they make plans, for a day in between christmas and new years. and then for new years eve, too. steve knows someone throwing a party, and erin reluctantly agrees to go. it feels bizarre, thinking about showing up to a party where steve will actually not only be seen speaking to her, but be seen arriving with her. 

if she thought this past year was wild, the next one is already shaping up to be something else.

[theshatteredrose]

Nugatory: The Secret War (Chapter 2) - Disgaea 5 Fanfiction

AN: Ok, just want to make things very, obviously clear; this story will take place in the second half of the game. When all the story characters have been introduced and are part of the team. I know that it’s bleedingly obvious to anyone who has read the first chapter, but in case it’s not, now you know! I’m not going to completely retell the events of the game as that would be pretty boring after a while, so forgive me for glossing over them. Some events, yes, I will retell, but not all. This story will be long enough as is. Anyway, please enjoy reading!

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FFNet

-

Chapter 2:

Killia needed to find Goldion. No; General Bloodis. And he needed to find him alone. He couldn’t drag the others into that battle. Into that mess. His mess. Too many had already been hurt in this war, a war that had begun because of one selfish, violent demon.

Void Dark.

Was it his fault that there was a war ravishing the Netherverse? He couldn’t be sure. Void Dark had always been wholly full of himself, unpredictable, and utterly spiteful and hateful. How he had managed to amass such power, such a following; Killia may never know.

But…he was fairly certain he knew how Void managed to defeat his own father; abuse of that scar.

That was his fault.

And he had to find a way to fix that.

Bribing a prinnie to secretly search for information about Bloodis’ location was incredibly easy. Especially with how little Seraphina paid them. A single sardine was enough. He felt sorry for him, though, so he gave him two. He was a hard worker.

With everyone else busying themselves with eating their share of the curry that Killia had prepared earlier, he slipped away to approach main bridge of the pocket netherworld. Their dimensional gatekeeper was unexpectedly absent. Instead, someone else stood before the bridge before the gateway.

Samuel?

Wasn’t he eating curry, too?

Thinking about it, he had been suspiciously absent.

He leaned against the railing, his elbows resting against the guardrails with his head tilted back slightly as he stared up at large windows and out at the vast netherverse outside the pocket netherworld.

In an army filled unusual characters, Samuel was an interesting one. He presented himself as a warrior, but he didn’t act like any warrior that Killia had encountered or met before. Snow white hair, blue clothing, and a white sleeveless vest that reached the back of his knees and was cinched at the collar. A deep scar marred his forehead now but was hidden behind a blue headband.

He was unflinching in his loyalty, fearless on the battlefield, and regarded everyone with a familial pleasantness. Never a flicker of fear or uncertainty on his ever-smiling face.

However, Killia was certain that his air of friendliness was a front for his uncertainty. He had often caught Samuel staring out through the windows of the Pocket netherworld at the universe beyond, a faraway look in his eyes, as if unable to truly comprehend the sight before him.

Maybe he couldn’t.

Yet, he gazed at the stars and netherworlds with a heavy heart.

Killia wasn’t sure why he allowed Samuel to follow him after realising he had amnesia. He was intent on doing things on his own. Even now, surrounded by too stubborn and determined teammates, he wanted to remain a lone wolf. It was better that way. Safer that way. For everyone.

Yet, he allowed Samuel to tag along. Was it his earnest gratitude? His vulnerability? The way his smile reminded him of Lieze?

He didn’t know. Back then or now.

Though, he could admit that he didn’t mind his company.

“Oh hey, Killia,” Samuel greeted as he finally turned his gaze away from the view of the Netherverse outside.

“What are you doing here?” Killia asked, curious. And, yes, a little suspicious.

Samuel ignored his question, however. “If you’re looking for prinnie, he’s on a lunch break,” he explained, his usual carefree grin plastered on his lips. “I’m covering for him.”

Despite his friendliness, Killia couldn’t help but feel that there was something else hidden behind his motives. “Is that so?”

Samuel turned around to lean back against the handrails. “He did mention something to me, though.”

He knew it.

“I have good news and bad news,” he began. “Good news; I know where Bloodis is.”

“And the bad news?”

“I’m not letting you through the dimensional gate until you agree you’re not going alone.”

Killia frowned as Samuel continued to lounge casually in front of the walkway leading to said portal; hands atop of the guardrails, legs purposely stretched out across the path and crossed at the ankles.

“…How many sardines did you bribe him with?”

Samuel held up his fingers. “Three.”

Damn, and Killia bribed him with two sardines. He better up his game next time.

“It’s better for everyone’s sake that I do this alone,” Killia insisted. “It’s-”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Samuel interrupted, making no attempt to move.

“But-”

“Yes, yes.” Samuel finally stood up but maintained blocking the path. “You feel guilty because you think Goldion was brainwashed and defeated because of you. It’s a wrong you must right all on your own. And you’re not going to drag others into your problems, even though you’ve inserted yourself into the troubles of others. Am I right?”

Killia was rendered speechless.

Samuel gave a short, half chuckle as he paced over to him. “I’m psychic,” he said, playfully.

He probably wasn’t, but he very well could be if he kept showing him up like that.

“I’m kidding. It’s written on your face.” Samuel shook his head, maintaining that outgoing smile of his. “When, in reality, it was entirety because of Void. Everything was because of him and his maliciousness, his willingness to take advantage of every possible weakness and fault.”

That could not be denied. Still, to think that Void would brainwash his own father. The maliciousness he held could not be underestimated.

Samuel raised his right hand and pressed his fist against Killia’s chest lightly. “I may not actually be psychic, but we both know what would happen if you managed to sneak out now; They-” he tilted his head toward the cafeteria of the pocket Netherworld, where their teammates were currently dinning on the very curry dinner Killia had cooked for them, “-would immediately track you down, give you the lecture of a lifetime, all the while chewing you out for worrying them.”

Yeah…Seraphina would immediately get her guns involved, and then act clingy for literal days afterwards. That was definitely something he could do without.

“Honestly, Bloodis would be the least of our worries,” Samuel added for good measure.

“You do have a point,” Killia conceded with a defeated sigh. “Alright, fine. You’ve made your point. I didn’t skip out on the lecture after all.”

Samuel practically beamed at him as he threw up his hands in an overly apologetic manner. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll restrain myself next time.”

Killia arched an eyebrow as he rested the knuckles of his right hand on his hip. “Next time?”

“If there is a next time, of course,” Samuel quickly amended, before his expression quickly took on a playfully scolding tone. “And there had better not be one.”

It took more energy than Killia cared to admit not to wince. There truly were times when Samuel just reminded him so much of Lieze. Little mannerisms like lecturing him, chiding him, while still having utmost faith in him, in spite of everything.

In spite of everything…

“By the way ‘our worries?’” Killia asked before he had he could stop himself.

Samuel blinked before he gave a carefree shrug. “Well, of course. I’m your right-hand man, after. Besides, you said to follow you until my memories return, didn’t you?”

Well, yeah, he did say that.

“And that includes heading off into unknown netherworlds to face off against brainwashed former mentors,” Samuel added for good measure.

That wasn’t what he had in mind, however.

A movement from the corner of his eye caused Killia to turn his head to the right, toward a prinnie as they approached. Ah, they were their Dimensional gatekeeper, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Ah, Killia-”

“It’s ok,” Samuel interrupted. “I’ve already told him. We’re just figuring out what we should do once we get to Sandcano.”

Sandcano? That Netherworld’s terrain was going to cause them a bit of trouble. And sure to be crawling with Lost Soldiers, more than willing to use the terrain to their advantage. Bloodis was to be within the centre of the Netherworld, attempting to heal from the injury Killia managed to inflict upon him.

There had to be a way they could reach Goldion that was sure to be inside that dark armour, hidden somewhere within.

Maybe…

“Hm? What’s going on here?”

Christo’s voice quickly Killia pulled from his musings, and he was silently startled that the other demon had already joined him and Samuel.

“Just plotting our next move,” Samuel was the one to answer. “It seems that Bloodis has holed himself up in Sandcano.”

Christo immediately frowned as he pushed his glasses further up upon the bridge of his nose, a nervous tic of his he had when he was displeased or unsettled. “Hm? I see. So, we’re heading to Sandcano? That Netherworld is rather frustrating. We best prepare ourselves for battle, against the Lost and the elements.”

“Yeah. We were just discussing that.” Killia decided to play along with Samuel’s ruse, so not to worry the others, and not to earn their ire should they learn what he had initially planned to do.

“I’ll go inform the others, then.”

Killia watched as Christo turned on his heel and quickly walked down the steps and back over toward the cafeteria. He waited until he was out of earshot before he turned his head to his left, toward the warrior that stood next to him.

“Samuel?”

“Yeah?”

“We can’t let anyone else die.”

Samuel knew exactly what he meant. “Of course, we won’t,” he said as he clasped his shoulder. “I’m your right-hand man, after all.”

… … … … …

Samuel winced as he rolled his neck and shoulders to ease out the stresses and knots of post-battle.

They had found Bloodis, like they had wanted. But their plan to use the Final Skill to free him of his brainwashing hadn’t gone how they had planned, which was greatly unfortunate. Though, in hindsight, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. They kinda went in without much of a plan otherwise.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. They had a plan. For once. It just hinged on someone that wasn’t honest. Or ready for that much responsibility.

With Killia and Zeroken needing to be in top shape to use the Final Skill on a defeated Bloodis, Samuel and the others had borne the brunt of the battle. Mostly Samuel and Red Magnus as they were on the frontline, with the others staying further back. They had tried to keep their tactics subtle; Samuel guarding Killia while Red Magnus did the same with Zeroken.

Bloodis seemed to have realised that they were protecting Killia and Zeroken, however, so targeted Samuel and Red Magnus mostly.

They got through that battle. And had Bloodis right where they wanted him, where they needed him.

Only Zeroken wasn’t able to perform his half of the Final Skill.

Samuel sighed as he walked along the gangway that hang over the main console of the pocket Netherworld. He reached the corner platform and sat down and dangled his legs over the side as he leaned back on his hands, staring out at the inky blackness of the vast Netherverse beyond the windows.

He wasn’t mad at Zeroken. Just disappointed. Especially after learning the truth of what he had endured.

Poor kid.

That was what he was. Just a kid, lost and alone. Like so many others.

Samuel winced again as he rolled his shoulder to ease out another strained knot.

Yeesh. Bloodis wasn’t a Demon General for nothing.

Footsteps resounding against the metal pathway alerted Samuel that he had company, and he immediately knew who they were. After all, there was only one other demon that would frequent the bridge above master control panel.

“Hey, Killia,” Samuel greeted.

“Samuel,” Killia returned in his usual smooth, cool manner. “How are your injuries?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Only minor,” Samuel replied, dismissively. He never liked talking about himself anyway, so best change the subject. “Don’t be too hard on Wolf Pup. He had a lot of expectations thrown at him quite suddenly.”

Killia uttered a sigh as he lowered himself to sit down next to him, sitting cross-legged rather than following Samuel’s example. “I suppose it was quite sudden.”

“Though, it doesn’t help his case that he tried to bluff his way through it,” Samuel added as he turned his gaze back to the vast, seemingly endless Netherverse. “Honestly, kids these days.”

“Yeah.”

Kids these days indeed. Don’t know how to deal with a war. Not that they should know how to deal with a war. With the brutal death of their parents. With the destruction of their home world.

With the decisions that their parents made.

Samuel inwardly sighed. No kid should have to deal with that.

“What’s wrong?” Killia suddenly asked him.

And Samuel immediately plastered a carefree grin on his lips to hide a wince. He thought he had inwardly sighed. He must have let one slip. “Oh no, it’s nothing,” he insisted, hoping to sound dismissively.

Yet, Killia wasn’t convinced, even going as far as to arch a sceptical eyebrow at him. “I don’t believe that.”

Guess there was no point in lying to the guy.

Samuel heaved a sigh, his shoulder drooping forward with mild fatigue, as he turned his gaze back toward the endless expanse of the Netherverse. “It’s just…it’s clear you’re all haunted by your pasts, and I don’t know what that’s like. Not really.”

Killia made a quiet sound of surprise and disbelief. “You’re not haunted by a past you don’t remember?”

He…he guessed he was. In a way. He remembered major facts. Like the name Nugatory, and how he wasn’t to talk about it to anyone. About what happened beneath the stormy surface of the hidden, lost Netherworld. Of the war that raged inside. About certain…facts.

He knew those things…at least, he thought he did.

“That’s a little bit different,” Samuel said with a slight shake of his head. “I’m…unsettled by what ifs. You’re haunted by facts and truths. You know exactly what you’ve lost. You know exactly who and what is responsible. You know and remember exact details. You’ve all lost so much, and I’m not sure how to help with that.”

Even if he could help with that.

How could he begin to help Killia with that? With anything?

Killia remained silent for the longest moment, allowing Samuel’s words to mull around in his head as he carefully chose his next words. “I guess I understand how you feel.”

Samuel turned toward him with his head titled to the side in curiosity. “Hm?”

“I don’t know how to help you with recovering your memories.”

Samuel blinked before he gave a short chuckle. “You have more important things to worry about right now.”

Killia arched an eyebrow. “Recovering your memories aren’t important?

With a lopsided smile, Samuel nudged Killia’s shoulder with his own. “Not when there’s a war going on, dingus.”

Honestly, and the guy had the nerve to not want to drag anyone into his troubles when he’s willingly sticking his nose into other people’s messes.

He was unable to stop a frown from making its way to his lips and he regarded Killia with a look of curiosity. “There is something else bothering me, though.”

“What is it?”

“I overheard your conversation Usalia earlier,” he began, carefully choosing his words. “You said that it is your past that is your reason for living. Your need for revenge is what is keeping you going. I just can’t help but wonder if my past is the same.”

That brought a deep frown to Killia’s lips as his eyes flickered over to the windows, and to the Netherverse beyond.

Since that short conversation, it had been weighing on Samuel’s mind. Maybe he…didn’t want to remember his past. Maybe that was the reason he was so blasé about it?

“Or, maybe, if my past is a reason for me to…stop living.”

Killia snapped his sharp gaze in Samuel’s direction and he immediately realised he had said that last part aloud.

Looking away, Samuel abruptly straightened his posture, raised his hands, and slapped his palms on each side of his face simultaneously, startling Killia in the process once more. “Right.”

“What are you-?”

“Ok, that got dark real quick,” Samuel continued, cutting Killia off, before turning back toward him and giving him a purposely curious look. “Anyway, let’s focus on the present here. Are you going to try to hunt down Bloodis so soon?”

Killia stared at Samuel for the longest second, completely caught off guard by him. He soon snapped out of it, thankfully, and nodded his head. “Ah, yeah. He’s been weakened further by that battle. We need to continue. We have to find a way to free him from his brainwashing. We just have to.”

“Right. Got it.” Samuel hefted himself up on his feet. He lingered crouched down, hands on his knees and eyelevel with Killia, however. “I hope Wolf Pup is ready to learn the Final Skill from you.”

And Samuel managed to surprise Killia once again. “What?”

Samuel winked at him. “Psychic, remember.”

The corners of Killia’s mouth twitched into a half smirk as he moved to stand up, too. “I’m beginning to think that you are at this point.”

Samuel shot him a smile as the two of them made their way off of the gangway.

His past was a puzzle, but it would have to wait a bit longer to be solved. Hopefully, with Killia and Zeroken’s efforts, they could free Goldion from his brainwashing and put an end to this war sooner than anyone expected.

…His own past would just have to wait.

[dnangelic]

he can't help the way his feelings uncomfortably stir : he doesn't thank the other or insist any further , ( because adam is , after all , an adult , ) but the word "worth" still pricks him in a way that gave him the same itching , irritated lump as the word "deserve" did . he wants to resist , decline , insist : but you do . no matter how meek and timid the niwa perpetually seemed , weren't feelings like those still his own ? to dispense and allot wherever , to whomever he liked . had he the words to express any of this , then maybe he would have balled up his fists a little at his side and stood his ground until adam accepted it .

instead , he stays as still as he can and listens , unable to help the way his eyes glide shy away from the other's --- like a nervous animal hoping not to get eaten , a dog with another's teeth bared close , far too close to its nose .

delusions ... right . what confrontation he's avoided and tried to muster up all sorts of excuses for , he suddenly feels chided over . ' kind of like --- ' he hesitates just on the brink ; feels his thoughts lurch at the thin , sliced edge of the conversation , a chasm that rips itself open right in front of him and whose deep , open plummet makes his heart sink and thud in his chest . ( adam would either immediately hate him for this , or end up shocked at the sheer hidden guts and gal it took for it . maybe even both . ) nevertheless , daisuke verbally leaps : ' like the way you kind of ... talk like you're all bad , even though you really aren't ? '

it's not the place for comparison , he knows --- but he can't help the times he had wondered whether or not there would ever be any sort of light for him . what was good , what was evil ... ? did a drop of poison always pollute the entire well ? did a weed in a field render it foul and infertile ? cherubs were said to only know peace and wear smiles ; in its shadows , the devil and all its stormy leers and grim brooding could be concluded a devil for as long as these things remained a truth .

even thieves had their reasons . their little white lies ; their rampant delusions . he's never known whether or not good intentions could make up for cardinal sins , but if he could have told adam the truth , here and now , what would the other have said , then ? would he have lent mercy , even more sympathy and encouragement , no matter how rough and crass ; no matter how bitter and angry , to the sorry kid --- criminal --- raised from birth like all of his ancestors to fall out from innocence and to endlessly steal ? his family might have been the entire reason for his woes , beginning with an ancestor of hundreds , maybe thousands of years ago , a curse --- but , after so much time , he still cared for everyone . his mother , his grandfather , a father he barely felt he knew ; the artworks he had laid his hands on , even his other self .

' i just ... ' if anything , he wished his mother really was here right now . to hear what she might say to an ordinary person when all the other times he had tried to declare that he was going to give up thieving , he had been met with nothing but a chorus of pleads and tears and demands and declines . ' ... they're the only ones who accept me , too . they know --- parts of me that no one else knows about . that i'm too scared to show to strangers or ... even my friends . ' his flush reddens a little , even more . his voice shrinks and stays infinitesimally small . ' i just don't want people to hate me . what if someone points and --- and calls me a freak or a monster ? what if it's the truth and everyone's right ? what if i can't change or --- or fix it ? '

a beat . ' i mean , whether or not it's my fault , isn't there something still wrong with me ? ' a breath . ' i'm so stupid and i keep thinking --- wondering , maybe i'm not any good for any of it . not my family or strangers or ... o-or anybody . ' and just like that , lifting an arm to rub a sleeve across his dry lips and hide away his mouth for however briefly , he apologizes again . ' sorry . i didn't --- i didn't mean to ... i just don't know what i'm doing . it feels like everyone knows what they want in life and how to talk and ... be normal , but me . and i don't know how to fix it . i never know just ... what's missing . '

Rigidly, Adam stirs in his seat, eyes flicking sideways then back at the kid in an instant.

"Don't thank me. I'm not doin' somethin' worth bein' thanked for." How horrifying it is to see the worst of one's past in another's present. Grandfather. Wounds sealed and locked somewhere in the depths of Adam's psyche - along with real, physical marks buried under makeup, clothing and pretenses of their disappearance - suddenly all feel so very fresh and new. His expression shifts to a grimace as he re-manages his heart - which's skipping beats now signify the horror of remembrance - and quickly reverts to his frown, albeit this time perhaps a little softer in its falling than he would like.

Empathy fucking sucks. He likes to think he has none. He has plenty. He likes to think he can manage that plenty. He often can. He likes to think that's the case now. It's not. He knows better than to jump to a personal conclusion about the kid's grandfather, but the very implication that he's mean connects Adam to the teenager in a way he despises.

Which is perhaps why he responds to the latter bit of his dialogue first, the good lies shtick. It happens to be so far removed from who he is - someone with an almost compulsive honesty about him unless his more complex feelings are coming into play - that he can easily use his response as a distraction.

"But, yeah - there are definitely good lies." He admits. "Little white lies 'r lies ta save people 'r whatever else kinda lie brings more good than bad, but-" a small sigh, fingers drumming up to press against the wall. "They come at the risk of formin' delusions no matter how good of a person the liar might be, so ya oughtta be careful with those even more than ya oughtta be with so-called 'bad lies'." His fingers halt their motion, eyes more intent on the kid than they initially were, perhaps to hammer home his upcoming point. "Cuz delusion's a dangerous damn thing. If ya really wanna do yourself or the world or whoever else some good, you gotta see 'em for what they are first and call 'em out on it." This, he says from experience. Protest, reform - he was just a teenager himself when he'd lifted his gay rights sign up into the air and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with many a wronged individual. He doesn't believe the world is hopeless, in spite of really wishing he could - reform is possible, just never quite in the childish vein of world-saving and eternal happiness.

Then, a pause; a complete and total halt in the air within which he debates addressing the kid's previous comment. He has no obligation to help him, he tells himself, and yet he almost wants to break him out of a certain dynamic he's sensing. A misplaced affinity or - he could've sworn he detected guilt.

"And lemme tell ya somethin' else, kid." he prefaces with just a little stall - a small moment in time to breathe. "We as a collective - people, society, whatever dramatic word ya wanna call it - tend ta have a certain misconception about family." he stresses on the word, leaning a little forward and letting a palm fall over his own knee, twirling a finger around it. "Almost everyone ya ask's gonna tell ya that you gotta love 'em - that they love you unconditionally 'n that this fact alone should be enough for ya to reciprocate," a little scoff. "Yeah, well, fuck that." He should probably stop swearing in front of the kid but, well, he's already reeling it down.

"Sometimes, your family ain't worth lovin' because they're fuckin' ya up on the daily. Sometimes, your family loves ya in a way that's wrong 'r in a way that's incompatible with how ya need to be loved. 'n ain't nothin' wrong with being pissed about that." a pause, because the next bit hits home. "And sometimes they don't love ya at all. So why should you?" A click at his tongue. "Kid. Y'started by tellin' a stranger how much your mother's smotherin' ya - she's the one who should be defendin' herself, not you. It ain't your fault she's an overbearing asshole."

[midgardianweasley]

hiii i love your fics so much omg! anyway, i have a request that i've been daydreaming about that haha: nat and r get into a really big fight about smth (anything but cheating pls my heart won't be able to take that) and r kind of shuts down, and wanda & carol become super protective of her and follow her everywhere making sure she's ok. (and they're also glaring at nat any chance they get) but then nat comes into r's room one night and apologizes and they make up and snuggle and its soft hours

thank you so much! and of course lovely! here you go<33

Priorities

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has been missing date nights, leaving Y/N embarrassed for the final time. When confronted, an argument unfolds, but can they come back from it?

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: some swearing, some self-neglect

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! <3

“Another drink, miss?” The waiter in a smart, black tux asked you for the second time this evening, a part of you felt that it was out of pity as you sat alone at a table for two, and had been for the last two hours.

You were supposed to be meeting your girlfriend tonight for date night, you got all dressed up, makeup applied and hair styled perfectly, which had taken forever, only to be stood up. You wouldn’t have overly minded if this was a first occurrence, you would’ve brushed it off and rescheduled for another night. Which is what you had done, two missed date nights ago.

This was your third night of sitting alone in a crowded, candlelit restaurant as couples around you glanced over with a sympathetic gaze, which had only made you feel worse. Your girlfriend should be here. ‘Natasha should be here’, you thought. You looked up at the kind waiter, giving him a gentle smile before shaking your head.

“No, thank you. I think I'm calling it a night.” You spoke as you hurried to gather your things and get out of there as soon as possible, trying to hold back tears that you refused to let fall, not in front of all of these strangers. You hated this. You hated feeling so exposed. So vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel anger bubble inside of you, thoughts of Natasha being the only thing currently plaguing your mind, most along the lines of; ‘What was her excuse this time?’ ‘Who is she with instead?’, but, there was one in particular that you couldn’t help but focus on.

‘She promised.’

You hadn’t realised you were crying until you were in the taxi, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror when the driver had adjusted it slightly to see the cars behind you, in the process, you’d also caught her eyebrows raise in concern and it wasn’t long before she started conversation.

“You okay back there?”

You laughed somewhat bitterly, but it wasn’t towards her. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Your response didn’t seem to settle her worry as she turned quickly and shot you a sad smile before returning her eyes to the road.

“Boy troubles?”

“Girl.” You rubbed your face, trying to rid yourself of any tear stains that may be lingering and messing up your once really pretty makeup. Not that it really mattered at this point.

“Ah, been there.” She held up her left hand, showing you the shimmering diamond on her finger. “The wife and I have had our fair share of arguments and fallouts, some of them included a situation like this one.”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi?”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi.” She laughed lightly, making you smile for the first time tonight.

“It had always worked out though, we’ve never been stronger.”

“Congratulations.” You looked towards the woman “I hope I could be so lucky.” You mumbled, though still loud enough for her to hear. You were mad at Natasha, more disappointed really, but you still loved her, dangerously so. She could stand you up for another 50 dates, and you’d still be head over heels. Angry, but your love would never falter.

“I’m sure you will be. If there’s one thing I've learned over the years, it’s that things have a way of falling into place eventually.”

Pondering her words, you looked out of the car window and noticed that you were pulling up to Stark Tower. It wasn’t long before the car came to a complete stop, the woman turning round to you and beginning to speak again.

“You’ll be okay. It’s obvious you love her, okay? Speak to her. I’m sure it’ll be alright.” She looked at you with nothing but kindness in her eyes, which you did your best to return with a smile. You reached into your purse, handing her the money owed, plus a tip.

“Thank you for the help.”

“Don’t worry about it, go get her.” She winked as you got out of the car and watched her drive away, quickly taking yourself inside to avoid freezing to death as the cold wind blew harshly. Kicking your heels off, you set off with one task at hand. Talk to Nat.

__________________________

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Nat?” You addressed some members of the team who were hanging out in the Kitchen, fixing themselves a snack or just conversing with one another. The second they looked up and took in their appearance, you could’ve sworn their faces paled and saddened slightly as if they knew what had happened.

“I think I saw her head off to train a while ago, but I'm not sure if she’s still there.” Carol replied, her face morphing into one of seriousness. She knew about the missed dates, having found you one night looking completely defeated in one of your nicest dresses and heels. She, alongside Wanda, who had found you both later that night, had spent their night comforting you and reassuring you that she probably hadn’t meant it. They didn’t know what to do, they’d never seen you look so sad before, no matter how much you told them it was okay, the pang in their chest for their best friend hadn’t ceased.

You nodded, quietly thanking Carol and wandered off in search for your girlfriend.

It didn’t take long, she was still training when you’d walked into the gym, sweat practically pouring off of her. Your heart softened briefly when you saw her, her fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail with loose strands all over the place, wearing a black t-shirt, grey sweatpants and a deadpan face as she attacked the dusty punching bag with such force that you’re surprised it hasn’t flown off of the chains yet.

She hadn’t noticed you had walked in, still giving all of her focus to her punches. Maybe she just hadn’t heard you?

“Hi Nat.”

Nothing.

“Nat”

All you could hear was the furious rattling of chains, still not getting a response from the redhead. With a sigh, you decided to try another approach. You stepped closer to her, still keeping a little distance, and leaned forward to tap her shoulder, instantly grabbing her attention. She flung herself around, arm still in midair, her closed fist almost coming into contact with your face.

You don’t know what you expected when she turned around and finally acknowledged your presence, but you definitely didn’t expect to be met with a scowl.

“Seriously? in the middle of training? I could’ve hit you.” She huffed as she turned back to her previous position.

“Sorry. I just wanted to come in and talk to you.”

“About?”

You paused, expecting her to look at you again, but she didn’t.

With a small sigh, you continued. “you missed date night again. I waited for you, but you were a no show.”

“Right, yeah, date night” she muttered, seeming to be unfocused as her eyebrows furrowed and her head kept darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you. “I’ll make the next one.”

“This is the third one you’ve missed this month.” You said firmly, wanting her to understand that this can’t keep happening, of course cancellations or rearrangements were bound to happen sometimes, but she’s just not showing up and then leaving you in the dark as to knowing why.

“I told you, i’ll make the next one.” She walked over to the bench, picking up her water bottle and taking a swig of water, looking directly at you, you look back at her and she just looks so, unbothered.

“I don’t believe you, Nat. You say you’ll make it up to me and then I sit there again, hoping that you’ll be there this time, but you don’t turn up. And now I come back and you’re just training. Could it not have waited? Was that seriously more important?” You raised your voice now, all the anger and frustration you’d felt earlier coming back up to the surface.

You just wanted an explanation, or something to justify how she was acting, but she gave you nothing, not even an attempt, only adding fuel to the fire.

“Why are you getting so annoyed? You should know better than anyone that this is my job.”

“I just explained that to you! Which is more than what you’re giving me right now.”

“Okay, fine, forgive me for not making everything about you for a minute.” She spat bitterly towards you, her temper starting to go as the discussion became more heated.

“Seriously? That’s how you’re seeing this?” If you weren’t so unbelievably irritated, you would’ve laughed at her response.

“You’re being selfish. So I missed a date or two, you’re blowing this out of proportion once again, it’s infuriating.” Selfish?

You raised both your hands, as if in surrender. It was one thing to ditch you, it was another thing to then insult you for speaking up about it. With a tight lipped smile, oozing with sarcasm, you decided that you’d had enough.

“I don’t need to listen to this.”

She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the gloves she’d just put on. “Then don’t, i’m busy anyways.”. This time, you did laugh.

“What a fucking surprise.”. And with that, you turned on your heels and walked out, hearing the echo of punches fill the room once again, every one feeling like a punch to the stomach.

Maybe these are things falling into place, just not the place you’d hoped.

________________________

You were still in bed at noon the next day, unable to bring yourself to get up and face the world. You didn’t need to worry about anything in the confinement of your bed, even more so considering it wasn’t the bed you shared with Natasha.

After speaking, well, arguing with her last night, you went straight to your shared bedroom, gathered some clothes and your essentials, and slept in your old room that you used to stay in before the two of you started dating. It felt wrong. You always spent your nights with a warm feeling of love washing over you as your girlfriend pressed kisses all over your face, tangling your limbs together in the process.

It wasn’t the same. You felt cold, a type of cold that no heating or blankets could solve. You lacked a weight on your waist, fingertips stroking the skin that was exposed due to your top riding up slightly. Instead, the only comfort you had was the small bear you’ve kept for the las year. It was one that Natasha had given you after she won it at the funfair on your third date, and you could never bring yourself to part with it, remembering how happy she looked when she handed it to you, and the butterflies you felt just from seeing her look so pleased.

The bear was a little worn and torn now, it had been ripped in a couple of places, now replaced with a little sewn on patch of material that didn’t exactly match the shade of brown, and one of the eyes had started to fall off, but you liked that it was different. The assassin had tried to offer to replace it and buy you a new one, but you’d always refuse, insistent that you would keep that bear with you for the rest of time. Even now, when the two of you weren’t speaking, you still held onto it with a death-tight grip.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, open up, It’s me.” A familiar voice shouted through. Carol.

“And me!” Wanda.

You heard some muttering outside of the door, something along the lines of Carol suggesting they break the door down, immediately being told that it was unnecessary by the Sokovian. Feeling pretty against the idea of having a doorway with no door, you called out for them.

“Guys, it’s unlocked.” You were quiet, but it was clear that they had heard you as the faint talking stopped altogether and you heard them walk in and shut the door behind them with a ‘click’.

Wanda was the first to approach you, kneeling down beside the bed so that she was at eye level with you, pulling the bed covers down a little to uncover more than your forehead. Once she could see your eyes and nose, she sent you a warm smile.

“Hi sleepy. It’s noon.”

“I know.” She frowned when she heard you speak, your voice raspy from your crying through the night. She hated seeing you like this, she loved both you and Natasha, and it hurt to see you so sad because of the woman you adored.

“We should go and eat something, it’ll help.”

“‘M not hungry.” You pressed your head further into the pillow, the last thing you wanted to do was eat, your stomach already feeling like it was twisting with every minute that passed.

“C’mon, i’ll make you your favourite.” the blonde winked, leaning against your wardrobe.

“Your special pancakes?”

“With extra whipped cream.” She sang, playfully trying to encourage you to leave the bed. You had to hand it to her, she knew you too well.

WIth a brief look between the two, you rubbed your eyes and threw the covers off dramatically, sighing and ensuring that they knew you didn’t approve of this. They knew you were joking, even if you weren’t, all they cared about was making sure you were okay, knowing that when you felt like this, being left alone allows you to neglect yourself and get really low. They don’t mind if you dislike them for a little while, as long as you are looked after.

“There we go! Well done.” Wanda stroked your back and led you towards the door where Carol held it open for you.

“No breaking it down behind my back.” You shot towards her, slightly amused at the guilty look on her face as she realised you’d heard her quarrel beforehand. Shaking her head, she nudged you out of the door, and the three of you made your way into the kitchen.

_______________________

Carol had stuck to her promise of preparing a sweet treat for you, a stack of fluffy pancakes sat in front of you, topped with whipped cream and two cherries on top. You ate slow, still a little cautious of how stable your stomach felt. You could see your two friends talk with one another, not wanting to stare and make you uncomfortable, but occasionally looking over silently to check in on you.

You were feeling pretty content as you sat at the counter, munching away with the two avengers for company. It was only when you heard a voice that you could recognise anywhere.

“Hi guys.”

Not daring to look up, you ket your eyes focused on the food in front of you, hoping that if you just stay quiet, you’ll be invisible to the human eye.

“Hey Nat.”

“Hi.”

Wanda and Carol replied, wary of any interaction between the pair of you that could unfold into something neither of you wanted or that would lead to any regrets.

You lifted your head slightly, able to see the daggers Carol was throwing at Nat, not impressed with her being in the room. You both had always been quite close, often talking about life before becoming superheroes that protect the planet, in her case, planets. In the process, she’d found herself having a soft spot for you, wanting to protect you from anything that could bring you harm. Which you were grateful for, but her glaring was terrifying sometimes, you were more grateful for the fact that her powers weren’t in her eyes, otherwise you would’ve definitely become single five minutes ago.

You could see Natasha out of the corner of your eye, she was filling up the bottle she used for when she was training, her eyes weren’t on what she was doing, instead, she was trying to subtly look up at you through the hood of her eyes. You subconsciously took the opportunity to really take in her appearance.

Her hair hadn’t been tended to since you last saw her, half of it was hanging out of her ponytail, most of it falling in front of her face. Her eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, like she had been crying recently and you could’ve sworn that was your t-shirt she was wearing. The sight sent a wave of sadness over you, wanting nothing more than to leap over the counter and pull her into your arms and tell her things were fine, that the two of you were fine. But you stayed seated, too nervous to make a move.

You didn’t know it, but she regretted speaking to you last night, instantly realising what she’d done after she came back to her room to find it empty and half of your stuff gone. She knew immediately where you’d gone and would’ve gone through to talk it through with you, but she didn’t think it would help. She wanted you to have your time and space before approaching the situation.

With that, she tightened the lid on her bottle, sent you an apologetic smile and walked out of the room, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere in her absence.

“You alright?” Wanda asked

“Yeah, yeah no I'm okay. I’m feeling a little tired though, I'll catch you guys in a bit, okay?” You stood from your seat, not giving either of the two a chance to stop you as you walked out and back to bed. What a day.

_______________________

Hours had gone by now and you were back wrapped up under your bed covers, still clinging onto your bear. You hadn’t bothered to change, you went straight to bed after walking in the door. You’d managed to get some sleep earlier, not a lot, but it was something.

You tossed and turned, trying to find any way of being comfortable so your body could rest and your mind could shut off, but it was deemed to be impossible. All you could think about was your argument with Nat, and how she looked so upset earlier. The thought alone triggered the waterworks again, this time, you didn’t even attempt to stop them.

Only a couple of minutes had passed before there was yet again, another knock on your door. You rolled your eyes, really not wanting any more visitors, you were grateful for the help, but you really wanted to be alone.

“Guys, I’m fine! It’s late, get some sleep.” You called out, waiting to hear retreating footsteps, but they never came. Huh. That’s weird? You brushed it off quickly, assuming that it must’ve just been too quiet to hear, which you wouldn’t put past you due to all the sniffling you’ve been doing in an attempt to silence your crying.

You were wrong. The person at your door hadn’t walked away. They also weren’t Wanda or Carol. Instead, it was who you least expected to be in your room at god knows what time at night after the events that had unfolded recently.

“Hi.” The redhead whispered, worrying that if she spoke any louder, you’d be able to hear her voice shake with nerves, or the huge lump in her throat that wouldn’t budge.

You froze on the spot when you realised who it was, not entirely sure how you were gonna play this. Realistically, you might as well just see what it is she wants, it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Hey.”

Her footsteps were practically silent but still felt deafening as she stepped closer to you, cringing slightly at how tense and forced all of this felt. It was her fault, she knew that, she hoped you did too. She didn’t want you blaming yourself for her actions, although she couldn’t say anything if you did, she was the one who had insulted you and planted the thought in your head, and she felt every fibre in her body beg for you to forgive her.

Approaching with caution, she walked up to the top of the bed, kneeling where Wanda had been earlier, but unlike Wanda, she didn’t reach out for you. She didn’t feel she had the right. Not now. She quickly took note of your eyes and how they were drooping and red, just like how hers had been earlier, which is how she could know in an instant that you had just been crying. She felt like a knife had gone through her chest at the sight, knowing that she had done that to you. She’d let you down so much that it had brought you to laying in bed alone and crying.

You mumbled something incoherent, completely muffled by the covers that were blocking your mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you through the cover, could you tell me that again?”

You looked down a little, debating on doing it or just asking her to leave this conversation for another day. ‘But, she was already here, so you may as well get on with it.’ you thought, and with that, you tugged the covers down a little, letting Natasha see your full face now, unable to stop a tiny hint of a smile creeping up on her face. Your nose was runny, your eyes were puffy, and your face was flushed, but that didn’t change the fact that she still believed you to be the most beautiful woman she’d seen.

“Has something h-happened?” You hiccuped, noticing the frown take over her features as she maintained her eye contact with you.

“Yeah. i was a complete idiot.”

“Nat-”

“No, no, please. I want to explain. I need to explain. Please?” She pleaded, not caring how desperate she might’ve looked.

You paused for a minute before sighing gently, nodding at her and giving her a non-verbal go ahead to continue. She took a deep breath, looking away for a second then looking back at you before you could even blink. You could see her hands tremble a little, and while you were upset with her, you couldn’t leave it alone. You reached your hand out from under the cover and held it out to her, offering it for her to hold. She grabbed it without hesitation, squeezing it gently as a single tear fell, gathering the courage to say her next words.

“I have no excuse for what I did. There is nothing I could say that would make my actions plausible or acceptable, I shouldn’t have treated you like that or said what I did, and I understand if you can’t forgive me, or don’t want to. But I needed-, no, I need you to know, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve better.”

More tears had fallen down her face at this point, her thumb not ceasing in their circular movements on the back of your hand. She didn’t know if this was going to be the last time she felt your hand in hers, so with every circle, she was savouring the moment, no matter how badly she wished it was under different circumstances.

You shuffled a little so you were in a more upright position, hoping that it would make speaking easier. You’d taken in every word, and while you were hurt, extremely hurt, you saw how remorseful she was. Her face showed no sign of humour or like she was lying. You could always tell when she was lying, her eyebrow always twitched a little, which you would always be in stitches about when she tried to say she didn’t eat your last cookie and her eyebrows would be moving like mad. They were as still as stone when she was speaking this time.

“You really hurt me, Nat. I didn’t think I was asking for much, just some time with you, that was all. And you left me every time, for work and with no notice. It was embarrassing.” She nodded in acknowledgement as she listened. “A-and then to come back and witness you being so, so, hostile, with me, I didn’t understand what I'd done.”

She gulped audibly before speaking again. “You hadn’t done a thing. Not a thing. I-I threw myself into work, into training. The last mission, I was sloppy, I wasn’t on my A game, it almost ended up with other people seriously hurt. So I thought-” She took a shaky breath in. “I thought, if I trained harder, It would mean I would be better for the next mission. But I disregarded everything else on the radar, including you, and then I got so mad at myself for it that I ended up taking it out on you instead. You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, and it was out of order for me to ever say so. It was wrong, and I don’t think I can apologise enough.`` She gave you an apologetic smile, tears streaming down her face steadily now.

“You know, when I came home from the restaurant, I had this driver.” You smiled. “Nice woman, she’s got a wife. She was telling me that it wasn’t easy for them. They had their ups and downs, their fights and bitterness. But they always found their way back to each other.” You whispered so softly that if there was any other noise in the room, Natasha wouldn’t have heard a word.

“And, when we argued, I really didn’t think we were going to be able to come back from that. I thought that maybe our time had expired.” You sniffled, your own tears trailing their way down your cheeks. Without thinking, she wiped them away, her palm pressing onto your warm cheek as you nuzzled into it, still finding comfort in her touch.

“I don’t want us to expire, Nat.”

There it was. There was the sentence that turned silent tears into fully body wracking sobs, your hands instinctively going to pull away and cover your face, instead, Natasha brought herself up to sit on the side of your bed, hastily bringing you into her chest and her free hand combing its way through your hair.

She rocked you back and forth, letting you get everything out of your system, no matter how much it hurt to hear.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry, moya lyubov.”

Your sobs soon died down with Nat’s help, sobs turning into faint pants with how tired you were and how much energy it had taken out of you. You looked up at her softly, as she smiled down at you.

“I love you, Natty.” You murmured, the words making the assassin’s heart grow fonder for you, if that was ever possible.

“I love you more.”

“Can you stay with me tonight? I can’t sleep without you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.” She leaned over you, bringing the blankets back up and over you, catching a glimpse of some brown fur among the darkness. She knew exactly what it was. She picked up up with the blankets and handed it to you, happiness overtaking her as she saw your eyes light up at the teddy she won for you.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Detka.” She pressed a kiss to your temple before settling down, holding you tight in her grasp, refusing to let you go for anything or anyone, not that you were complaining, you’d missed this.

Nothing had to be decided tonight, there was no rush for discussion. Sure, there were still things to talk through and work out, but that can wait. All that mattered right now, was that Natasha was there. She was holding you in her arms and you felt every ounce of love and apology she could give you. And that was enough for now.

taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova @wvnda-maximoff

[beels-burger-babe]

Beelzebub's Very Bad No Good Day

***So this is the new format in which I'll be answering requests. In my experience, actual posts get spread further than asks do, so this will hopefully help with that. ANYWAY, I am crazy excited about this request as a major Beel simp and YES I will proudly do this request! Thank you @sinnoman for blessing me with it. -B*** Summary: Beel doesn't get anything to eat one day, and it doesn't go well for anybody.

From the moment Beelzebub woke up, he knew that today was going to be a terrible day. For starters, he had apparently raided the fridge in his sleep the night before, so there was not a crumb left in the house for anyone to make breakfast with. Most of the others had gone and grabbed something from Hell's Kitchen on their way to class, but poor Beel had slept through his alarm due to the food coma his nighttime snack had put him in and had to rush to RAD. The entire school was talking about the monster that they believed had awoken beneath the school. Teachers were on edge ready to evacuate the premises for the earthquake they believed to be happening. Beel avoided eye contact, blushing as his empty stomach continued to rumble and roar throughout the day. He ended up eating a few pencils just to get it to quiet down and even that didn't have much effect. The Avatar of Gluttony nearly cried tears of relief when the lunch bell rang. But it seemed that fate was not his friend that day. He was going to order a gargantuan-sized Little Devil mango slushy, a side of Hellfire curry rice, fried shadow bat, and 108 seed salad and the main course of at least twenty shadow hog burgers with three servings of caramel shadow tart for dessert. Beel was drooling at just the thought of it. He was almost at the ordering station when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Beel growled and turned around, baring his teeth at whoever dared to disturb him.

Belphegor narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Woah. Beel, relax. It's just me. We've got a student council meeting, and Lucifer has threatened to take away supper from whoever skips out." Beelzebub scoffed as the air around him darkened at the mention of someone taking food away from him. "I'd like to see him try." Belphie raised an eyebrow at his twin's uncharacteristically grumpy behaviour. "Are you alright, Beel?" As though to answer his question, Beel's stomach let out another loud roar, causing several students to flinch and Beel to scowl in frustration. "I'm hungry." Belphie's frown deepened. Beel was always hungry, but he didn't usually let it get to him like this. The younger twin rifled through his own bag before pulling out an obviously full paper bag. "You can have my lunch if you want. I ate a little bit of it during class and swiped a bagel from Mammon during the first period, so I'm not all that-" Before he could finish Beel ripped the bag out of Belphie's hands and devoured it, bag and all. Belphie blinked at his now empty hand and chuckled as Beel chewed. "Man, you must be starving huh?"

Beelzebub merely grunted and continued to chew before swallowing down the small meal. He glanced back at the lineup in the cafeteria and put a hand on his stomach as he thought about the lunch he should be enjoying. Belphie nudged him. "Come on, big guy. We got to get to that meeting. The sooner we get it over with, the more likely it is that we'll end early and you might be able to grab something before class starts again." Only the meeting was not short and quick like Belphie had said it might be. Diavolo wanted everyone to come up with an idea for a school fundraiser, and Lucifer was arguing with Asmodeus on what was and was not appropriate. To make matters worse, you were unable to attend as, according to Mammon, your charms professor had asked you to stay behind afterwards to discuss your progress in the class. The bickering on top of the lack of food in his stomach was giving Beel a migraine and the longer he sat there, the more irritable he had become. Eventually, it became too much and he snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, flipping the table as he stood. "No one cares about the stupid fundraiser anyway and you're just wasting all of our time arguing over something that will inevitably fall apart and cause an even bigger mess, just like it always does!" "Beelzebub! Watch your tone in front of-" "Shut it, Lucifer!" his brother's gaped at him in shock as he snarled at their elder. "I am sick and tired of you pushing us all around and punishing us when the slightest thing goes wrong just because you-" Beel poked Lucifer's chest hard enough to make him take a step back, "won't take responsibility for your own mistakes!" "Oh shit," Mammon whispered under his breath, as Lucifer's eyes narrowed and his body tensed in defence. The second-born quickly squeezed his way between the two of them and spread his arms to try and create some distance. "Okay! Tensions are high. People are upset. But this is not the place to brawl it out." he glanced over at Lucifer who looked like he was a second away from stringing him up to the ceiling. "Might I remind ya Lord Diavolo is still in the room?" Lucifer looked over at Diavolo, who appeared to be both hurt and concerned by Beelzebub's words, before sighing and fixing his composure. He gave Beel a hard look. "Obviously something is upsetting you, but we can discuss this at home. For the time being, I recommend you work on calming yourself and clearing your head." Beel just growled at him before stomping out of the student council room. He had been about to re-enter the cafeteria again when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch hour. Beelzebub felt his eye twitch before his demon form burst into existence. He let out a deafening scream as he grabbed a table and threw it across the room (students still seated on it, included). Students were yelling and scrambling like mice as the large demon rampaged through the halls. He tore the locked grate off of the serving station and grabbed the nearest server by the scruff of the collar, causing them to squeak in fear. "I'm hungry," Beel rumbled lowly as the demon trembled in his hands. "Get me something to eat now or I will not hesitate to eat you." "R-R-Right away, Beelzeb-b-bub." Beel carelessly dropped the demon, who scattered off to gather as much food as they could. He began pacing like a caged animal. Having been alerted by all the noise, his brothers and Diavolo rushed into the nearly destroyed cafeteria. Diavolo's jaw dropped. "Beelzebub, what's the meaning of all this?" Beel's famished brain didn't acknowledge Diavolo as an authority at the moment. Instead, he was yet another person trying to keep him from eating. "I need food. NOW!" Lucifer's eyes widened in realization as he whispered something to Diavolo. The prince nodded and took a step back. "I'm sure the cooks are doing all they can to get you food right away. But I need you to control yourself before I am forced to take action." Satan had his phone out and was urgently texting someone, as Belphie moved forward.

"You'll get your food shortly Beel. You just need to wai-" "I don't want to wait!!" There was a part of Beelzebub's brain that was aware he was acting like a child. But his stomach physically hurt from how empty it was. He was tired. He was starving. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "I've barely eaten anything all day, and people keep staring and talking about me because my stomach just will not stop growling and I'm so hungry that I can barely think straight! I hate it! But I know it won't go away unless I eat, so I NEED TO EAT!" The brothers looked at Beel in shock. They knew that he ate a lot, but they always passed it off as just another quirk that made him Beel. They didn't know it bothered him like this. They thought back on all the instances where Beel had stated that he was hungry out of nowhere, always with a distressed look on his face. Every single time they had brushed him off. Before any of them could respond, you casually walked into the war zone that was the cafeteria. "Alright Satan, what's so urgent that you needed me so badly?" The room fell quiet as everyone's attention snapped over to you and you took in the situation. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots.

You immediately began to rush over to Beelzebub; Mammon stepped forward to stop you. "Woah, MC! I don't think that's a good idea right now!"

You ignored him and continued to make your way to Beel. Seeing you, the small human that you were, made Beel realize just how reckless he had been acting. He held out his hands to stop you and took a step away. "You should listen to Mammon, MC. I-I haven't eaten all day and I-" "You haven't eaten all day?! Oh god, this is worst than I thought." Beel watched as you slid the oversized backpack that he had seen you carry around RAD with you every day off your back and begin to dump out the contents. In a second, dozens of bags of chips, candy, fruits, and other snacks spilled across the floor in front of the two of you. Beel didn't waste a single moment. He instantly began consuming the snacks, causing you to smile happily. "Wha-What?! MC?! Why the hell do you have that much food on ya?!" Mammon sputtered as he cautiously began to approach you. You shrugged. "Beel gets upset when he's hungry, and I don't like it when he's upset. So I stocked up on some of his favourite snacks a while back and always keep them on me just in case," Beel paused his eating to look up at you in awe, "He can't help that he's always hungry. It's not like he asked to be the Avatar of Gluttony." Suddenly there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lucifer, Levi, and Mammon called out your name as Beel pulled you tightly against his chest. You just grinned and hugged the friendly giant back. "Thank you," he whispered softly into your hair, his arms tightening around you just a little more. "There's nothing to thank me for." As Beel finally began to calm down, the cooks came out with platters of food and shakily laid them out around you and Beel before taking cover back into the kitchen. Seeing that the threat had passed, the other brothers began to approach as well. "You know Beel, I didn't know you had that much pent-up anger inside of you. It was terrifying!" Asmodeus chirped as he plopped down beside the two of you.

"Yeah! You were just like the antagonist in My Boyfriend Turned Into a Cannabilistic Rage Monster, And Now I Have to Stop Him From Devouring The Whole City!!!" Levi began to ramble about specific scenes from the show that matched perfectly with Beel's rampage, causing Beel to blush as he munched on a burger. Belphie sighed and elbowed Beel as he took his seat at his side. "We'll have to make sure that MC's always around you. Just in case you know?" he smiled softly, before looking at his twin with a more serious expression. "You should've told me about all that stuff you said earlier. I had no idea you felt that away about your appetite." Beel looked away uncomfortably as he took another bite of his food and avoided the question. You snuggled closer to him, to provide him with some comfort. Satan tapped his chin as he watched the group. "I'm sure we could talk with Barbatos and come up with some sort of high-protein shake or bar that would better satisfy you. That way you wouldn't have to eat as much." Lucifer glanced over at Diavolo, silently asking if it was a possibility. The prince smiled warmly. "I'll have Barabatos begin working on something right away." Forgetting all about class and the anger that had previously consumed him, Beel looked around at his family. A warm feeling blossomed in his stomach as he felt content with the rare care and affection that they were openly showing. Maybe it had something to do with the thirty burgers he had already ate, but for just a second, Beel didn't feel so hungry anymore. ***Boy that got a little angsty there for a second, but I hope this was to your liking @sinnoman! I definitely enjoyed writing this one, and I think it made me fall in love with my boy Beel even more 🥰*** TAGLIST: @vampwiire @bunna-does-stuff

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Drifting

I had so much fun writing up the introduction to this request! You’ll probably see why in just a minute too...but, fun fact, the lovely Khaos, the newest addition to the blog, helped me out with this request when I found myself a little stuck!

Khaos added a helpful amount of amazing to the ending scene, so be sure to thank them for their amazing input! Oh, and make sure ya let us know what you think, okay?

I would also like to add that I know it’s been quiet here on the blog and I’m sorry for that but personally, I’ve had some...curveballs thrown at me health wise so you probably won’t see a lot from me. So, yeah.

Navigation 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 Tamaki slowly peeked up above the ocean’s surface, keeping as quiet as possible to remain unnoticed while he allowed his eyes to land upon the object of his curiosities and affections; swallowing thickly when he realised that you had shown up at exactly sunset yet again, just like always.

 And, as always, you were alone. You had no companions that could prevent him from stealing you away to his secret cave and no one to help you if he decided to keep you to himself. An idea that appealed to him more with each of your visits to the beach.

 What interested Tamaki most, however, was the fact that with each of your visits, you made sure to only come by the secluded beach at sunset; when everyone else had gone home for the day. Tourists seemed to believe all the local’s stories of monsters beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the sun to go down so that their attacks could go unnoticed until it was too late.

 Of course, it was all nonsense. Tamaki was the only merperson to occupy this particular beach and he had been for quite a few years now; any and all monsters were long gone, migrated to places that weren’t so aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the depths.

 But it was also because of the late hour that you came to the beach, that Tamaki couldn’t approach you. He was all too aware of how a human woman might react to a random man approaching them in the water when the sun was beginning to set, shadows casting over the sky and melting the beautiful orange hues into an inky blackness.

 So, instead, Tamaki had to be satisfied with watching you from afar. Appreciating your beauty and daydreaming about all the different possibilities of meeting you; how he could befriend you and get closer, all while knowing it would be an impossibility.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 Tamaki stared at you with wide, saucer-like eyes, his mouth hanging open while you swam towards him slowly; your body remaining below the water’s surface, hiding the fact that you were without your bikini top.

 The very same bikini top that he held in his hands, a scrap of clothing that he had been inspecting out of confusion given that it was nearly midnight and he had thought that you had left the beach hours ago like you normally would.

 “…I think that’s mine” Your softly uttered words startled him, making him jolt and sink down further into the water while he released the bikini top; allowing it to float up to the surface, harmlessly bobbing up and down with the waves between the both of you.

 “Sorry, I uh, didn’t realise that someone else was here” He muttered out a pathetic excuse for an apology, trying his best not to let his tentacles move into your line of sight; desperate to at least seem normal, even if it wouldn’t be a lasting impression.

  Tamaki gulped nervously as he watched you reach for the floating bikini top, averting his gaze when you shuffled around to put the piece of clothing back on; the hurried movements of your fingers catching his attention with how the water splashed from the clumsy actions. The silence beginning to feel awkward while Tamaki tried his best not to look at you before you were ready, not wanting to come off as a pervert. Not to you.

 “It’s okay, I didn’t realise anyone else was here either. Not this late at night anyways and certainly not with the way everyone goes on about the monsters that are waiting for sunset so they can eat you” You rolled your eyes as the words left your lips, briefly giving Tamaki a once over before nodding your head to yourself; making Tamaki wonder if you were giving him the benefit of the doubt despite how strange it was for him to be here at this time, more so considering that he had technically been holding onto your bikini top.

 Then again, it would make sense for you to assume that he had thought it was a piece of seaweed; because honestly, that’s exactly what Tamaki had first thought when he picked it up.

 It wasn’t uncommon for people to investigate strange and/or suspicious objects that were found floating in the ocean, only to cast them away as quickly as they had been found. Tamaki had seen humans do so more times than he could count and luckily for him, he had had the brains to immediately release the skimpy piece of clothing; a guilty man would have tried to hide it, or simply kept held of it. Not Tamaki though, he had dropped it, allowed you to take it back and even averted his gaze so that you could have some form of privacy while fixing your top; even if it hadn’t been a great deal of privacy. There was only so much he could offer given the circumstances after all.

 However, even with these facts in mind, Tamaki could easily see that you were still on guard and he was happy to see such a thing. It reassured him that you didn’t trust random strangers in the water just because they had been polite enough to look away while you were topless.

 “Still, I am sorry…about your top, I mean. If I had of known what it was…” Tamaki trailed off as his face flushed with embarrassment, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to turn a similar shade of scarlet while he dipped further into the gentle waves of the night’s warm ocean waters; only stopping when his nose was beneath the salty waters.

 “It’s fine, okay? No harm, no foul” You hummed out the words in a soft voice, swimming around to face the embarrassed merman; all the while being completely unaware of what he truly was.

 “So…what brings you out so late?” Your question made Tamaki’s body go stiff, anxiety rushing through his system while his brain scrambled to think of something, anything to say in response to such an innocently asked question; anything but the truth, that is.

 There was no way known that Tamaki could tell you the truth behind his daily visits to this beach, especially when he could live happily and stealthily beneath the ocean waves for the rest of his life if it weren’t for your presence on this beach.

 Tamaki wanted to slap himself. Here he was, minding his own business in the ocean when the opportunity that he would have killed for, landed in his lap. The chance to speak with you, instead of just stare at you from afar and yet here he was, completely and utterly unable to get a single word out; instead, the fears of what could happen filled his mind.

 The terrifying what ifs of you hating him if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing tormenting him into a nervous silence. Tamaki’s only relief from the situation, was that he would have the memories of having gotten close to you without making you scream and panic; though that also meant that no one would notice if he were to steal you away in that moment, if he took you to a place that no one would ever hope to find.

 But that was something that he couldn’t do and definitely something that Tamaki shouldn’t think about, unless he wanted to fuel the desires that he so often pushed aside. You would surely hate him if he were to do even half of the things that he had thought about.

 “Well, I guess I’ll see you around…” You mumbled out the farewell awkwardly, turning away from Tamaki in order to swim back towards the shore, no longer able to enjoy the solitude of an empty beach.

 “Uh, wait!” Tamaki called out to you again, finally able to find his voice once more as he reached out for you, his hand closing around your arm. Sealing his choice of interaction with you when you turned to face him. He should have let you leave.

 “Your…um, your strap, it’s loose…” He barely managed to mumble out the words without humiliating himself, averting his gaze when he found himself unable to meet your eyes; not needing the added kick of self-loathing on top of his nervousness.

 “You’ll lose your top again if you don’t fix it…”

 .

 “Oh. Well, do you mind?”

 .

 Tamaki gulped nervously as you turned your back to him once more, allowing him to reach for the loose strings belonging to your bikini top; needing to untie the knot that you had created in a rush minutes ago. If Tamaki were telling the truth, the knot probably would have held, but at the same time, he wouldn’t get another chance to let his skin brush against your own.

 Now, he was in heaven, making sure to tie a strong knot while at the same time, being sure that it wasn’t so tight that you wouldn’t be able to undo it yourself later on.

 “There…all done” He mumbled out the words under his breath when he was finished tying the knot, his fingers lingering on your skin for a brief moment, wanting more; though you pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

 Leaving Tamaki to breathe a sigh of release, all while silently cursing both himself and all of his pent-up desires. More so when you spun around to smile at him, the radiance you gave off nearly blinding his mopey self.

 “You’re beautiful…!” Tamaki blurted out the words before he could stop himself, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth with his eyes going wide in a mix of shock and horror. Mortified that he had said something like that without realising.

 Your eyes went wide, the smile fading from your lips and making Tamaki wish that he had legs so that he could kick himself. Unaware that you weren’t upset, but rather the opposite, never having been so earnestly complimented before; it brought an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks and to your heart.

 “Um…thanks…” Tamaki watched you as you swam closer to him, torn between escaping to the ocean’s depths and closing the gap between the two of you; desperate for both, yet knowing better than to actually reach for the object of his desires.

 With his mind struggling to choose between the two options, Tamaki froze in place at the worst time; allowing you to move closer until he felt your warm toes brush over his wriggling tentacles, fear filling him when you jolted back in surprise. Your eyes scanning the dark waters for seaweed.

 “What’s…wrong?” Tamaki mentally slapped himself for asking while he watched you lower your head closer to the water’s surface, still searching for seaweed that he knew you wouldn’t find. He was just thankful that it was so late in the night, making it nearly impossible for you to see anything below the surface; you weren’t like him, you didn’t have eyes unaffected by the dark.

 .

 “Well, it’s just…I thought that something touched my leg…”

 .

 Tamaki moved his tentacles as far away from you as he could, praying that the darkness would be enough to push aside your curiosity, but apparently, it was too late; your hands closed around two of his now squirming tentacles as he tried to pull them free of your hold.

 “Y-You…you’re a…” You breathed out in amazement, eyes wide as you stared at him and though it wasn’t in fear, Tamaki couldn’t take it. He wriggled his tentacles free of your grip and dove deep into the water; fearing what you would do now that you knew what he was.

 .

 “Wait!”

 .

 Tamaki ignored the muffled cry for him to stop, determined not to lose the strength it took to leave you behind instead of dragging you into the depths with him.

 Before Tamaki could get too far away however, he felt your hands close around his tentacles for the second time, causing him to freeze on the spot; heart thundering in his chest. He was already struggling to keep himself contained after having his tentacles grabbed the first time, but now it was too much; his tentacles were sensitive after all.

 Tamaki turned around in the water to look at you with a hunger that he had been pushing aside for far too long; using every last ounce of willpower he had left not to grab you and take you with him to his cave.

 The two of you remained submerged for a moment longer, staring at each other through the impossibly dark ocean water of the night. Tamaki knew you couldn’t see him, but your hold on his tentacles was enough to give you a direction to look at and like this, he had the rare opportunity to take in your breathtaking appearance; enjoying it as much as possible before wrapping some of his tentacles around your body and swimming for the surface.

 You were a human, which meant that you needed oxygen. A fact that he had nearly forgotten for a moment there, but either way; Tamaki wasn’t going to let you die. Not now, not when he could prevent it.

 “I’m not…I’m not gonna—” Tamaki motioned you to stop speaking as you tried to cough at the words, a suggestion that you decided to follow given that it was hard to regain your breath and speak at the same time. Given that Tamaki was no longer trying to swim away and that his tentacles were still wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat so that you didn’t have to put any effort into swimming yourself; you figured that you had time to catch your breath.

 “I was trying to say that I’m not going to turn you in. I was just…surprised, I guess” You rubbed at your neck as you explained yourself, your words making Tamaki’s stress melt away while thoughts of adoration towards you filled his mind.

 It was mind blowing to him that a human that had just discovered his secret wasn’t about to go running off telling everyone that merpeople existed and it certainly made him love you more than he already did.

 “Though, I am a little confused. I’ve heard those stories for years, listening to them as a little girl…how going out into the water at night is a terrible idea because monsters from the ocean will drag you beneath the water and steal you away” Tamaki grimaced as you giggled at the thought, clearly having no idea how close you had come to such a fate; even if the end result would have been different. Tamaki wouldn’t have hurt you, or eaten you alive like the old monsters of the ocean would have; no, he would have done so many different things to you. Things that would surely have you slap him if he dared to say them aloud to you.

 “Well, you know…don’t believe everything you hear I guess…” He managed to get a light-hearted chuckle out as he spoke, deciding that for the moment it would be better to keep you entrapped in his tentacles; mostly so that you couldn’t grab a hold of them again and push him into his instincts more than you already have.

 “I guess so, but I don’t know…you don’t seem so bad. Maybe having you steal me away wouldn’t be so terrible” Tamaki’s features twisted into unfiltered surprise at your giggled words, blood rushing through his ears and completely blocking out whatever it was that you were currently continuing on with.

 It seemed you managed to notice the faraway look in his eyes while his mind worked overtime to process your joke. Going as far as to reach out with your hand to brush your fingertips against his cheek, ripping him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality; your eyes locking with his heated gaze the moment his attention was back on the present you instead of his fantasy version.

 “…You would let me steal you away?” He pulled your body closer to his with his tentacles as he spoke, the slippery limbs tightening their hold on you ever-so-slightly while you gulped nervously; unable to look away from the merman in front of you.

 “…I…yes, I guess so” You spoke softly, unsure words tasting foreign to your tongue but unregrettable all the same. There was a certain air of importance surrounding the spoken words and now you found yourself slowly beginning to sink into the water with a smiling Tamaki.

 It was amazing, how his eyes had lit up with joy at your uttered words. Though it made you think vaguely of the old fae stories, where your word was a binding contract and if that were to be held in the same regard with mer-people, then it seemed like you had agreed to a new way of life.

 .

 “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ve got the perfect place in mind for you, you’ll be safe with me…I won’t let anyone steal you away…”

[mcheang]

@pendoodlex Do an Adrien Salt where Lila lies about Chat Noir and Ladybug being in a relationship and Adrien confirms the lie.

It’s my love life!

It’s easy to lie about stuff people want to hear. Alya was greedy for any gossip about Ladybug and loved support for her theories on Ladybug.

Recently they debated on Ladybug’s true age. Was she an immortal with teenage hormones and atttiude? Or simply a teenager?

Now they were on to Ladybug’s love life.

Lila: Of course LadyNoir is a thing. Ladybug just denies it because she doesn’t want to give Hawkmoth any more reason to target Chat Noir, but it’s obvious how much they care for each other.

Alya: Yes! A witness to Ladynoir!

Marinette: a lying witness

Nathaniel frowned. “I don’t know, Lila…”

Before Lila could insist she was correct, Adrien actually jumped in. “It’s true. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple. Sorry, Nathaniel, but she’s off the market.”

Marinette froze. Did Adrien just lie to Nathaniel about her love life? Just so no one would interfere with their beloved Ladynoir fandom?

WTH???

Overwhelmed by her hurt and rage, Marinette actually grabbed Adrien’s hand and dragged him out of the classroom, her face burning red.

Some assumed she was trying out another one of her confession schemes. Lila thought Marinette was going to tell Adrien she was a liar (eh, he already knew.)

In a far off corner, Marinette was whisper-yelling at Adrien. “What are you thinking? It’s one thing to ignore Lila’s lies, it’s another to endorse them! LadyNoir is not real!”

Thinking that Marinette still had a crush on Chat Noir, Adrien winced and rubbed his head. “I’m sorry, Marinette. But it’s true. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple.”

“No, they are not! Where’s your proof?“ She demanded.

Adrien thought quickly. “I saw them kissing on a rooftop last week.”

Marinette raised a brow. “Are you sure you weren’t just dreaming?” Her voice was heavy with skepticism.

Adrien: Positive.

Marinette: Well, I’m not sorry to say that you’re wrong. Ladybug and Chat Noir are not a couple.

Adrien: and how are you so sure? Just because you have a crush on Chat-

Marinette: Because Ladybug visited me after my dad was akumatized!

Adrien:…what?

Marinette took a deep breath. She hated lying but she also couldn’t stand lies about her.

“Ladybug consoled me after Chat rejected me. She reminded me about the other great boys in my life and ones I have yet to meet. And I asked her why she wouldn’t date Chat. Do you know what she told me?”

Adrien was quiet.

“She said she was in love with a boy from her own civilian life, not Chat Noir. To be honest, he’s not even her type.”

Adrien perked up. “Ladybug has a type?”

Marinette: Obviously. From what I hear, she’s more into the sensitive soul kind of guy.

Adrien: Chat is sensitive!

Marinette just stared at her crush in disbelief. “Um, yeah, no. The dude sulks whenever he gets rejected and has no idea what no means. For crying out loud, he gave me a pink rose before dumping me, and that was after he ate the treats my dad baked for him.”

Adrien: For someone with a crush on the hero, you sure sound bitter.

Marinette exhaled again, calming herself. “I’m not bitter. I’ve moved on, truly. Enough to see what Ladybug meant when she said I’ll move on soon enough. I’m over Chat.“

Adrien raise his brows.

Marinette continued, “I’ve been able to analyse his actions without the hero-crush filters. Be honest, Adrien, how would you feel at having to constantly reject the same person over and over again? Wouldn’t you be annoyed by their repeated flirtations?”

Adrien shrugged. “I reject fans all the time. Well, not exactly. I just ignore their love letters.“

Marinette shook her head. “That doesn’t count. You don’t know those people. Let’s say Chloe was going to confess her love to you every day. And you have to reject her every day. When you reject her, she raises a fuss and causes an akuma. How would you feel about your childhood friend?”

Adrien grimaced. “That would suck. I would avoid Chloe just to avoid her confessions.”

Marinette raised her hand, like there you go. Point proven.

Adrien wasn’t done. “But,” he insisted stubbornly, “it’s different for LadyNoir. They’re partners. Yin and Yang. A superhero duo. Who else is she going to end up with if not her partner? These kinds of pairings always win in the end.”

Marinette: that’s just sad. You’re comparing Ladybug’s love life to fiction. Life isn’t a fairy tale, Adrien. you don’t decide who Ladybug ends up with, and it’s not right for you to lie about her either.

Adrien: LadyNoir will happen. I’m sure of it.

Marinette: You’re not even going to take back that lie, are you?

Adrien: Why would I? It’s going to be fact.

Marinette said sadly, “Goodbye, Adrien.”

After school, Marinette tore down her posters of Adrien. Filters removed, indeed.

Tikki: Don’t worry, Marinette. I’m sure things will come right in the end.

Marinette: that doesn’t mean I can’t help set things back in order. Tikki, spots on!

Alya turned around at a tapping on her window.

Alya: Ladybug!

Ladybug: Hey, Alya. Listen, I’ve been reading your blog, and I need to set some facts straight.

Alya: Is this about revealing your love life? Because honestly, it would be better to be honest about your love life than to let others hope they have a shot with you. Remember Copycat?

Ladybug: That’s my point. I’m not dating Chat Noir. I don’t even like him that way. Lila has been lying to you, Alya.

Alya: Um, she’s your Best Friend…

Ladybug: When did I ever say that?

Alya:…….. ……….Why didn’t you correct me before today, then?

Ladybug sighed. “Because i had called her out in front of Adrien, and she got akumatized. And when she disappeared for a while, I figured there was no need to bring her up.“

Alya: Hold on. Adrien knew Lila was lying?

Ladybug: Yes. Though I’m sure he must have his own reasons for protecting Lila. But back to my point. I am not dating Chat Noir, and I am not interested in him like that. My love life is mine to decide, not for others to insist on just because they prefer me with Chat. How would you like it if Parisians started pairing you with Pegasus or Monkey King instead of Carapace? With them insisting you break up with Nino just to be with someone they chose for you?”

“That would be annoying,“ admitted Alya. “And invasive.”

Ladybug: I want to do a live interview, to clear the matter up once and for all.

In this interview, Ladybug was professional and succinct as she stated she doesn’t know Lila Rossi and she is not in a relationship with Chat. She doesn’t want to hurt her fans, but her love life is for her to handle.

Unable to help herself, Alya asked, “If you don’t like Chat, who do you like? You don’t have to give any names, but just one little tidbit, please?”

Eh, why not?

Ladybug leaned back on her hands and smiled, her eyes going faraway and dreamy. “Mature. That’s all I’ll say.”

After all, Luka had always supported her crush on Adrien. He never pushed her, but was always there for her. Why didn’t she how good he was? Oh right, Adrien filters.

Lila was fuming. How could she show her face again? Where was an akuma when you wanted one?

The akuma was drawn to a LadyNoir fanatic.

Fight fight fight. Chat was noticeably sulky at having been rejected on air.

When Alya came over to interview, he insisted he would not give up on Ladybug. Alya raised her brows, “Yeah that’s fine. But just don’t be pushy about it. And from your attitude earlier during the battle, I don’t think you fit Ladybug’s ideal criteria.”

Chat flushed and turned away, using his baton to propel himself home.

At school, Lila was playing truant, and Alya was grilling Adrien for keeping quiet.

Adrien: her lies weren’t hurting anyone!

Alya: I’m taking into account your isolated childhood, so let me just say, lies are hurtful. And it’s not right to encourage and spread her lies either.

Adrien: LadyNoir has to happen!

Nino shook his head in disgust. “You sound like that akuma last night. Ladybug has the right to decide who she wants to be with. If you ship LadyNoir, that’s fine. But you shouldn’t let it get this far to decide for Ladybug who she ends up with.”

Alya sighed, “Let’s blame Gabriel for this and hope Adrien can still be saved.”

Alya also understood when Marinette gave up on Adrien after seeing his behavior. She was interested in Luka but decided to wait because she didn’t want him to be a rebound guy.

Anyway, Adrien learned to keep his opinions to himself when all they got him was disapproval.

Ladybug’s interview caused the Parisians to question if the Italian diplomat should even still be in Paris if her daughter likes to spout lies about their heroine. How could she let her own daughter lie about stuff like that? It was enough that Mrs Rossi was questioned at work and her ignorance unveiled.

Yeah, Mrs Rossi would be lucky to keep her job after this but it was suggested Lila be sent outside Paris since she would certainly be unhappy with her new pariah status. Lila was sent to a correctional facility where no one was charmed by her falsehoods. Hell, she couldn’t even contact her mother because she was even busier trying to make amends.

When Ladybug finally told Chat she was happily in a relationship with her new boyfriend, he was sulky. Oh sure, he continued to fight alongside Ladybug but he was hopeful that she would break up with her boyfriend.

Plagg: that’s a horrible reaction. Can’t you just be happy for Ladybug?

Adrien: love is irrational and can’t be reasoned with, Plagg.

Plagg: then can you at least be polite and respectful to Ladybug’s wishes that you stop flirting with her?

Adrien: fine. Being Chat Noir was a chance to finally express myself, though.

Plagg: there’s a difference between freedom of expression and being rude/disrespectful/obnoxious

Adrien tried to date Kagami, but she broke up with him. There was no point in continuing the relationship when Adrien was so fixed on Ladybug.

I’m gonna leave this open ended. Any ideas how you would end this story?

[navegandoaciegas]

Lace

Pairing: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (not Stucky)

Summary: Bucky is on Santa’s naughty list, but you make sure he gets his Christmas gift anyways.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, lovesick/insecure/creepy!Bucky, exhibitionism, voyeurism, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie, reader is a meanie in this one, but Bucky is a perv to be fair. Bucky wearing panties.

A/N: I was inspired by @mypoisonedvine sinful bodyguard au, so here we go. Written for the Happy Hoelidays Challenge hosted by @navybrat817 @stargazingfangirl18 and @donutloverxo . I chose the prompt “Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift…and now I get to unwrap you.” I hope you guys like this!

Bucky didn’t hate being a bodyguard, in fact he liked it.

He’d had to endure his fair share of trust fund brats, spoiled ladies with wandering eyes and even more wandering hands, and filthy rich men with anger issues, but it had all ultimately led to you, and you were all that mattered.

Bucky liked his job. He really did. What he hated, though, was taking you home after an event, as most times it meant that you weren’t alone, and some rich hunk with an Invisalign smile he couldn’t afford would be attached to you like a leech.

He hated those men, hated the way they touched you like he so desperately wanted but couldn’t, but most importantly, he hated how you enjoyed it.

Steve Rogers, tonight’s man, was Hollywood’s heartthrob of the moment, and Bucky could see why you’d chosen him at the Christmas party you’d attended.

Tall, broad shoulders, long slicked back hair, thich brown beard and puppy eyes,

He’d had his lips on yours during the ride, his hands shamelessly hiking up your cocktail dress, past your crimson panties -that Bucky totally hadn’t taken a peak at while you were getting ready-, until he’d heard your breath hitch, and some broken moans escape your lips, and he’d known that Steve had dipped his filthy hands inside your cunt. And that had enraged him as much as it had aroused him.

Then the driver had turned the volume of the radio all the way up with a disgusted sneer, and Bucky had gotten back to sulking in the passenger seat while another man made you his for the night.

The elevator’s doors slided open with a ding, and Bucky trudged to the front door of your penthouse, ready for a restless night of listening to your screams and Steve’s groans through the thin walls of your bedroom like it’d had happened countless times before.

Steve grabbed a handful of your ass, and you yelped, giggling as you shed his velvet jacket and threw it on the couch. He hoisted you up on the counter of your open space, settling himself between your legs, and when enough bile had risen in his throat to make him sick, Bucky turned around, cock already achingly hard in his pants, mood soured.

He’d need to take care of that on his own, imagining your manicured hands instead of his calloused, rough ones. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you crying out for him, crying out his name instead of Steve’s.

He made his way through your living room, dragging his feet with heavy steps.

He was a stupid, hopeless man, with a stupid, creepy crush on his employer, and absolutely no chance to- “Going to bed already?”

Your voice surprised him, startling out of his gloomy thoughts, and he whirled around, finding you still propped on the counter, the shameless tick still stuck to your side.

You’d normally yell at him to get lost while you fucked whatever man you wanted, so he found it odd that you’d spoken to him in something other than contempt.

The imagine of your hands on Steve’s face were enough to make him want to lash out at you, yell at you to go to Hell where many of your employees whispered you’d crawled up from, but he knew he couldn’t. He could never be mad at you. And even if he couldn’t have you, being in your life as your bodyguard was better than not being in your life at all.

So he sucked it up, and gave you what he hoped was a convincing smile. “‘S been a long night.”

You hummed, eyes still boring in his while Steve’s huge hands travelled up your thighs, disappearing under your dress. He busied himself with your neck, suckling the skin between his teeth, sucking bruises from the slope of your shoulder to your pulse point.

“Why don’t you stay, hm?” you moaned, gaze unwavering, tilting your head to give him better access.

Bucky wondered how Steve could be so unaffected by your words, when he was combusting on the spot, throat dry and eyes wide. He reasoned that he must have heard wrong, or that you were playing some cruel prank on him.

His crush was probably not as subtle as he’d liked, and you weren’t as oblivious as he wished.

You giggled when he gaped at you like a fish, and Steve turned his head just enough to smirk at him, en evil glint in his eyes, before he dove back in the crook of your neck, descending further to the swell of your breasts.

He was sure that he’d blushed a deep shade of crimson, deeper than the one of your panties. He’d heard you moan wantonly, heard the sweet sounds you made when a man pleasured you, memorized your whimpers and pleads when you begged them to fuck you harder, faster, deeper.

He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d watched the sex scenes in your movie until he’d etched every curve and line of your body in the back of his mind, and he was even less proud of the fact that he’d kept things he shouldn’t have kept, and had jerked off to them countless times.

Bucky fought the urge to follow his tongue as it traced the outline of your tits, pushed up by a matching bra -the one that he had also totally not taken a peak at-, and cleared his throat.

“I’ll leave you two to it, ma’am. Have a good night.”

“Wait,” you whined, pushing Steve away and jumping down the counter with a huff.

The pout on your lips was his weakness, and you knew it. You grabbed your himbo by the collar of his suit, and dragged him to your bedroom, beckoning Bucky to follow you.

His legs led him behind you as you opened the door and pushed Steve down on the bed.

He was bewildered, and alarmed, but he as usual, he did nothing but obey.

“I want you to stay, and watch,” you declared, straddling Steve’s lap.

Bucky’s eyes almost bulged out of his head, and he sputtered for an adequate response, coming up empty.

“What-?” he stammered, confused and a little hurt.

He looked at Steve for something, anything, but found him busy pushing down your dress, your tits spilling out of the fabric.

He gulped, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Nothing you haven’t seen already, right?”

You chuckled then, and turned around to face him while you ground your ass on Steve’s lap.

“What is it, Bucky baby?” you asked, quirking a brow, “You think I haven’t seen the way you look at me?”

All rational thoughts flew out the window the moment you spread your legs, hooked your fingers around the band of your panties and pushed them down your thighs.

The feeble fabric bunched around your heels, and with a twist of your foot, you sent it flying over to Bucky. It hit him in the chest, and he grasped it in his palm before it fell to the ground.

Your glistening heat was in full display, slick gathered around your entrance, swollen clit, and his mouth watered at the sight. He wanted so desperately to crawl over to you and dip his head between your legs, worshipping your body like you deserved.

“You think I don’t know?”

“Know what?” he whimpered, eyes travelling upwards, hypnotized on Steve’s tongue as it swirled around one of your nipples, the bud stiffening right between his lips.

“That you lay all alone in your bed, everynight, and think about me. That you wish it was my hand around your cock when you stroke yourself, and-God, baby-, thinking about fucking me, fuck-” you moaned, fisting a handful of Steve’s golden hair when his teeth grazed your sentitive peaks, “That you want to be buried deep inside my cunt and fill me up with your cum?”

He stood there, mouth agape, getting hardered with every world you breathed out.

“You think I don’t know you sneak in my room, like a little creep? Think I really believe that it’s the dryer eating up my panties?”

His head was empty in that moment, bile rising in his chest as Steve’s eyes fixed on his, derision written all over his face.

He wanted the ground to swallow him whole, and to disappear forever, to never have to face the humiliation of being confronted for his disturbing behavior again.

He’d never felt so low in his life before.

“What do you do with my panties, baby boy? Do you sniff them like a pervert? Do you jerk off thinking about me and then cum in them, pretending that it’s my pussy instead?”

You stood up from Steve's lap, taking slow, calculated steps towards him. When your hand grazed his aching cock through his slacks, a pathetic cry left his lips.

“Or maybe you like to wear them, hm? You like wearing my panties, Bucky? Like how lace looks around your fat cock?”

He averted his eyes to the carpeted floors, and you snickered, squeezing his balls tighter in your grip.

“I knew it.”

You didn’t sound angry, just very amused.

He didn’t know why or how you’d known these things, what he knew was that the guilt that had been gnawing his heart for months was finally bubbling up in his chest.

He realized it was wrong, pleasuring himself to your things without your consent, but at the time he’d been so desperate to imagine himself with you, feel closer to you, that he hadn’t cared for the morality of it all.

Sobs shook his chest and tears streamed down his face as apologies spilled out of his lips. Your hands caressed his stubbled cheeks, a soft smile on your lips.

“I like seeing you cry, pretty boy. Maybe I should do it more often,” you mused, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his mouth.

His crying ceased when he felt your tongue lick the trail of tears from his lips to the corner of his eye, your hands fisting his button down shirt. He didn’t move, didn’t even breath or blink, afraid you’d disappear before his eyes.

“Since you like watching so much,” you spoke in his ear, your breath sending tingles down his spine, “then I’ll let you watch.”

He stood frozen on the spot, looking over at your companion, who merely shrugged, undoing his belt, unfazed by the turn of events.

“You’ve been naughty, so naughty this year,” you taunted him, “but it’s just your luck that I’m more generous and forgiving than Santa himself. Consider this a Christmas gift, hm? Merry Christmas, Bucky baby,” you cheered, a million dollar smile on your face, “now strip.”

The command was spoken with such authority, so unlike your honeyed voice, that he was sure he’d get whiplash before the night ended.

He shed his clothes quickly, knowing that you didn’t like to wait, only hesitating a little before getting rid of his shirt.

You took a moment to scan his features, eyes scrutinizing all his flaws, tracing the marred skin around his prosthetic, the scars on his chest, abdomen, the flared one that ran from his armpit to the side of his face.

He wasn’t the prettiest to look at, he didn’t have flawless skin like Steve, but he hoped you liked what you saw.

You hummed, and he followed your tongue as it darted out to wet your lips.

“The boxers need to go, puppy.”

He casted a shy glance at you, and then at Steve, and hooked his fingers around the waistband of his briefs, letting them drop to the carpet around his feet.

He felt vulnerable under your heated gaze, and the blush that graced his cheeks expanded to his neck, down to his chest. He rocked back and forth on his heels, his throbbing cock bobbing with the motion.

“Who knew you were packing all this,” you purred, taking a step forward.

You raised a hand, sharp nails grazing his pecs, the coarse hair that trailed his abs, until you grasped his cock.

He’d imagined countless times your palm on his velvety skin, your wrist twisting around him, but none of his fantasies came even remotely close to the real thing.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, and let you work him in your fist, your other hand caressing the side of his face. He felt like he could come just like that, until you stopped abruptly.

“Wear my panties,” you commanded, voice almost bored, taking a step back.

“W-what? I- I can’t, I’m-”

“You’ve done it before, haven’t you? I wanna see it.”

He hesitated a moment, biting his lips. He could refuse… but he really liked wearing your underwear, and he really liked making you happy, keeping you satisfied.

He bent over, grabbing your panties from the pile of clothes on the floor, and slowly slid them up his thick legs.

The lace dug in his flesh, and his cock sat upright against his pubic bone, a wet patch of pre cum already seeping through the crimson mesh.

He felt pretty in your panties, and he didn’t feel pretty often. He was happy, as happy as he could be in the moment, when he didn’t find disgust on your face, or ridicule on Steve’s.

“They look better on you, baby boy. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you wear them wherever you want, hm?”

Again, you didn’t sound mad, so Bucky nodded meekly, and followed your instructions to sit down on the chair next to your bed, and keep his eyes wide open.

“You can touch yourself, but if you cum before we’re done, you’re getting punished. And you don’t want to know what that entails,” you added behind your shoulder, crawling on the bed.

Steve perked up, gently clutching your forearms and bringing you down to him.

His eyes darted briefly from yours to your lips, and he crashed his mouth against yours, pulling you in a breathtaking kiss, all tongue and clattering teeth.

You pulled back to catch your breath as Steve ogled you.

“Well, well, well looks like you’re my gift…and now I get to unwrap you,” Steve murmured against your skin, dragging you down between his thick thighs.

He tore your dress down the front, and shred your lingerie to pieces with a brute force that Bucky didn’t imagine he possessed, leaving you in your high heels.

You always looked beautiful, but under the soft lights of your room, slightly out of breath, you seemed ethereal. Steve’s lips were everywhere on your body, tongue licking stripes from your stomach to your tits, his touch bruising on your skin as he kneaded your flesh between his hands. You hissed when bit down on your neck, and pushed him down against the headboard, crawling over to him.

Bucky had the perfect visual of your ass up in the air, your tits swinging, and your face slowly lowering down. He rubbed his hand over your panties, bucking his hips a little so soothe some of the ache in his throbbing cock.

He almost gasped when you tugged down on Steve’s boxers, and his cock sprung out against his abs. He was big, certainly bigger than him, and so thick that your hand couldn’t wrap around him.

You threw Bucky a mischievous wink, and flattened your tongue, licking a stripe from Steve’s balls to his tip. You were good, he realized, teasing him with slow, kitten licks, swirling your tongue around his sensitive slit, peppering kisses over his shaft.

Steve was breathless, a thin coat of sweat covering his shredded muscles, and he threw his head back when you took him in your mouth, painted lips closing around him.

Bucky wished it was his cock you were sucking, but overall couldn’t complain about the show.

You lowered your head, swallowing Steve’s cock slowly but surely, stretching your jaw as much as possible. You began bobbing up and down then, one hand twisting his velvety skin where your mouth couldn’t reach, the other fondling with his balls.

Bucky felt like he could burst at any moment, but he willed his pleasure back, eager for your approval when he’d show you he hadn’t disobeyed you. The more you hollowed out your cheeks around Steve’s cock, the more he felt the need to be your good, obedient boy.

Steve grunted, a string of curses leaving his lips when your teeth grazed his sensitive head, and held you down, pressing a hand against the back of your head. He began bucking his hips upwards, fucking your mouth with a brutal pace.

“So fuckin’ good, baby, fuck-, suck my cock, -yes, that’s good, like the little slut you are.”

You gagged, sputtered and choked around his cock, saliva dribbling down your chin, tears streaming down your face, eyes boring into Steve’s.

Bucky squeezed the base of his cock tightly, wishing he was the one fucking your face right now.

A strangled gasp escaped you when Steve pulled your head up by your hair, a string of saliva dripping from your lips to his cock.

“You’re too good at this, sweetheart, but I don't want it to be over so soon,” he snarled, voice raspy.

He tossed you sideways, and you spread your legs. From where he sat, Bucky had the perfect visual of your slick cunt.

Steve pumped his cock a few times, and lined himself up with your entrance. He dragged the tip through your folds, coating himself in your juices before slamming inside you.

Your pussy twitched around him, and Bucky observed completely enraptured how your tight walls gripped his cock as he thrusted inside you, slowly at first.

“Fuck, Steve, you’re so fuckin’ big, God, yes, yes, move,” you shrieked, nails digging in Steve’s back.

He gave it to you like you wanted, hips snapping at a punishing pace, and soon the room was filled with the lewd squelching sounds of your dripping cunt and the slapping ones of Steve’s balls against your ass.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock,” he growled, hoisting your leg over the crook of his arm, thrusting deeper into you, “Can you be good for me? A good little cockdrunk whore, hm? Cum on my cock, baby, I know you can do this.”

Bucky squirmed on his chair, pressing down on his balls, feeling the coil in his lower belly tighten. He almost came when you did, but willed himself back. He’d have to be good for you.

“Shit, I’m coming, yes, fuck, fuck-” you screeched, toes curling and muscles going rigid as waves of pleasure shook through you.

Steve gave you no time to come down from your high, manhandling you on all fours, ass up in the air, and slamming himself inside you again.

Your eyes met Bucky’s, and he lost himself in the raw, deep passion he found there. Makeup streamed down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged all over your chin and nose.

You looked like the embodiment of sin, with your swollen lips in the shape on an ‘o’ and glazed eyes.

“You like this, hm? Like when I fuck you like a whore?” Steve growled, pounding into you like a man possessed, “Like my big fuckin’ cock inside you?”

You mewled, fisting the sheets of your bed, shrieking when he pulled you up by your hair, flush against his chest. He kept fucking into you, one hand clutching your cunt, fingers teasing your clit.

Bucky’s balls felt tight, and he was so hard it hurt, as he watched Steve hammer into you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your abused pussy, until he’d lost count of how many he’d given you, and you were barely coherent, saliva dribbling down your chin, mumbling incoherent, broken prayers.

He’d fucked you stupid, unable to speak or do anything, really, other than letting him rut inside you.

After what felt like hours, Steve’s hips stuttered, and he stilled with an animalistic grunt, emptying himself inside you. He collapsed to your side, catching his breath.

When you set back on your elbows, spreading your legs, both men watched in fascination as his cum seeped out of your swollen cunt, pooling on the silky fabric of your sheets.

“C’mon, pretty boy, your turn now,” Steve panted, beckoning him over.

Bucky hesitated before getting up from his chair, ready to burst at the seams at any minute, and crawled over to you, settling between your legs.

“Lick her clean,” Steve commanded, and he obeyed with no second though, dipping his tongue between your folds.

Your tangy taste mixed with Steve’s slightly salty cum, but Bucky didn’t care, intent on sucking your dry. He lapped at your cunt, tongue working your sensitive bud, latching onto it and suckling it between his lips.

“More,” you pleaded, fisting his locks in your hands, grinding your hips on his face.

He dipped two fingers inside you, then, pumping them in and out your pussy, enjoying the feel of your walls twitching and fluttering around them.

He doubled his efforts, crooking his palm and jerking his hand inside you while swiping his face through your folds, rutting his hips against the mattress to relieve the ache in his cock.

“God, yes, so good, please-,” you blabbered, voice getting more high pitched the closer you got to the edge.

Finally, you came with a moan, clamping down on his fingers and gushing all over his face, coating his beard and mouth in your release. He came too, without realizing it, filling your lace panties in his cum like he’d done a million times before.

You stayed like that, you sprawled on the bed, Steve leaning against the headboard and Bucky slumped against your bed for what felt like hours, until you’d all caught your breath.

You turned your head to the side, reaching for his face, cradling him in your palm. He nuzzled your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your wrist.

“You’ve done so well, baby boy,” you slurred, “I hope you liked your Christmas gift.”

He nodded, feeling his eyelids grow heavy, wanting nothing more than hold you in his arms, and being held by you.

“Hm, now get the Hell out of ‘ere,” you mumbled, “you both do. I need my sleep.”

With that, you rolled over, pulling the sheets over your naked body, leaving a dumbfounded Bucky and an amused Steve.

“Well, Merry Christmas, pal,” Steve chuckled, patting on his shoulder as he brushed past him, clothes in hand.

Bucky stayed frozen until he heard the front door shut, and tiptoed his way out, trying to wrap his head around the last few hours.

A Merry fuckin’ Christmas indeed, but Bucky wasn’t complaining.

-

Please reblog and leave some feedback! It means so much to me 🥺❤️

[keepingupwithpotters]

“Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you still love me.”

This is slightly longer than usual and it doesn't even have a happy ending, oops? I presume you knew what you were doing when you sent me an angsty prompt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And a happy birthday to @mppmaraudergirl !!! Hope you'll enjoy this unrequited pining dumpster fire queen :) I only wish it was set in 6th year to complete the set 🔥🗑❤️‍🔥

The dim light from the embers was trying to illuminate the Heads’ Office as he feasted his eyes on her. He thought about rekindling the fire to see her more clearly. Would she believe him if he said he was cold in April?

Just the fact they needed more light to see —her face in his case and the parchment in front of her for Lily’s— was enough proof that they’d been here for hours now, paying the price for not doing this in the last two weeks.

He tried not to think about why they were unable to do so, the first weeks of April a black blur in his mind he’d rather not visit.

Lily’s silhouette was a good distraction from his unwanted thoughts, he turned his focus back to it. He was just about to suggest adding more logs to the fireplace, weather be damned, when he realized Lily had been talking to him for a while now.

“—tried putting her with Bones last month but he said he will land himself in the hospital wing on patrol days if we ever pair them again, so we need a new partner for her.”

“How about Selwyn?”

“No, she's a half-blood, we can’t risk it.

“Fenwick?”

Lily looked thoughtful for a moment. “Fenwick could work.”

Happy that he had thwarted the danger, he went back to his favorite pastime.

“You know, this would finish a lot faster if you were helping me instead of gawking at me from afar.”

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?”

“You’re disturbing my concentration, Potter. Either close your eyes or come here.”

Never one to reject an offer like this, he hurried beside her. She had another thing coming if she actually expected this to stop him from drinking her in though. He could see the shadows of her eyelashes now.

“I can help you with that performance anxiety, Evans. I heard imagining me naked should do the trick.” He swallowed the words not that you’d have any problem with it back, afraid even this was pushing the limits.

“Thank you for that mental image.”

They were still pretending nothing had happened then. Fine by him.

She did look a little flustered though, he just hoped it wasn’t in anger. He decided not to risk it anymore, taking advantage of his new proximity to the redheaded witch to follow the freckles on her cheeks. Even he couldn’t fuck this up if he never opened his mouth, could he?

Guess not.

“C’mon Potter, work with me here.”

He’d be worried if he couldn’t hear the smile in her voice. “I am. I came over here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, to go over the patrol schedule with me,” the smile spread from her voice to her lips now, “not to continue your ogling beside my face now.”

He relented after that; still deathly afraid he could offend her unexpectedly. They went through the rest of the pairs slowly, easy laughter filling the air after a while. Lily was tapping the quill against her cheek, pondering about who to give Abbot as a partner, when he slipped up again.

It wasn’t his fault that the light hit her eyes just the right way when she was pursing her lips deep in thought. He was only human after all.

Still sprawled on her seat, it was proof of just how relaxed she was when she only laughed upon noticing, “Don’t look at me like that.”

A smart James, a James who wasn’t drunk on Lily’s laugh, would’ve never said what he said next.

“Like what?”

But he was far from that smart James now, the knowledge of what he probably looked like slipping through his foggy mind.

Her laughter hadn’t died fully yet when she said, “Like you still love me.”

Ah… Well, he brought that onto himself.

That was the hardest part about being friends with her probably. But it was okay, he had done worse things for Lily Evans than pretending he didn’t love her.

“You serenade your heart out to a girl one time…”

He didn’t bring up the other time the very same words were breathed tenderly in the dark. He wasn’t sure what was allowed yet, their newfound friendship still so fragile, so delicate.

When he realized he couldn’t have her in his life anymore unless he buried his feelings, that’s what he did, the opposite choice looking so unbearable that he hadn’t wasted a second thinking about it. So what if he sometimes felt like a tight fist was mangling his heart? He was listening to her laugh now, wasn’t he?

And he remembered what it was like, in that brief period, where he didn’t even have that in his life. Prefect meetings left abruptly, conversations ending quickly when he entered the room, gaze solely directed to people who could never appreciate them the way he would… He had been starved for her eyes, her voice, her touch. He thought he didn’t have her before, but there was never a time he didn’t have Lily Evans so completely than that damn week.

Which is why he fixed it, really, she left him no other choice. He promised her friendship, swore his feelings for her were gone, vowed to never try anything again. And as a reward, he got her back.

He kept all his promises so far, their past not-relationship (never a relationship) a taboo neither of them touched… until now. Once again Lily was steering the wheel and he was helpless but to follow her lead wherever she took him. Control had never been in his hands, and he was back to looking at her to figure out how he would be hurt next.

He wondered if this was a test when Lily looked satisfied with his answer. Was there a wrong answer to give here? Did he pass?

Lily stretched in her seat unaware of his musings, his wound still too fresh, he kept his eyes away from her this time. “I think we’re almost done here. Look it over one last time and we should be good to go.”

He took the parchment over from her distractedly, giving the schedule a lazy once-over when something caught his eye.

“You’ve put me with Remus.”

Her face stayed impassive but he could see she was fidgeting with her quill. “Uh, yes. Does that work for you?”

Suspicion arousing because of her skittish behavior, he turned his eyes to the schedule to locate her name.

There.

Lily Evans & Dirk Cresswell

“I thought you hated patrolling with Cresswell, isn’t that what you said before?”

She was unable to hide her apprehension now, her face flaming up rapidly before his eyes. “Not–not exactly.” She averted her eyes. “He asked to patrol with me at the last Slug meeting, said his current partner was causing some problems.”

He tried to relax his jaw, knowing it’d make everything worse for him if he proved her discomfort right.

“The schedule looks perfect, Evans. I think we can wrap it up for the night.”

Her relief choked up the room. “Yeah, let’s just close up the office and leave this bloody room at last.”

“Actually, you know what, why don’t you leave closing up to me?” He continued without paying attention to her halfhearted protests, “No, no, you earned it. Let me deal with the aftermath, it’s the least I can do.”

She gave him a relieved smile. “Thanks, Potter.” She was already halfway to the door when she said her goodnights.

He didn’t get up from his armchair right away, eyes stuck on the door she just left.

Pretending he didn’t love her may not be the worst thing he’d done for Lily Evans, but it was surely turning out to be the worst one for himself.

[separatist-apologist]

Listen…There’s so so little HelionxLoA smut out there🤧🤧 so naturally I came to the Queen of Vanserra/Spellcleaver writing to request literally anything you want to write for them, I just need content about them cause all we have is CRUMBS😭🤧

love your writing boo have a wonderful day💕

Look, if you think you can show up in my ask box demanding Helion content you are absolutely right. Honestly, more of this please. We could put Helion in ALL KINDS of positions, I know he'd be up for it.

Anyway, this is NSFW, 18+, edited with my hands tied behind my back.

--

--

Helion pulled himself out of the gleaming pool of salt water, blinded by the overhead sun. Meeting, meetings, meetings, he thought despondently, wrapping a towel around his waist. What good was being the High Lord if your time still wasn’t your own? Helion wanted to float in sunlight until his skin burned. He wanted to float until he felt nothing but oblivion, until he was one with the world.

Instead he’d sit at his desk and a stack of papers while emissary’s for whatever boring High Lord wanted to talk to him droned on and on about trade routes and taxes. Helion had hoped to never be High Lord, had hoped the magic might skip him entirely and then Amarantha, the cunt, fucked that all up.

Not that Helion didn’t still indulge, of course. Just not as often as he would have liked.

His bare feet smacked against the marble, still slippery from the water and he smirked at a gentleman who glanced at the towel hanging from his hips. He knew what they were wondering. What was beneath? Nothing, he thought with relish.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Helion told one of his advisors as he made his way towards his bedroom. “Who is waiting?”

“An emissary from Autumn, High Lord.”

Helion rolled his eyes. “Give me an hour, then,” he replied with a relish. It hardly punished Beron, given he’d sent one of his simpering, spineless courtiers in his stead and yet Helion still could not help but be petty. Let the courtier go back to Autumn and complain about Helion’s lack of time for them. Perhaps one day Beron would take the hint.

He flung open his bedroom door with a relish, intending to bathe and, afterwards, take a nap. Maybe eat after that, read a few chapters of his book and then, if he felt like it, hear out whatever Beron wanted.

Helion froze in place, eyes huge, hand still on the doorknob behind him. The Lady of Autumn, his lady, Amera, stood in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a flimsy, cotton shift that did absolutely nothingto hide her body from him.

This is a dream, his mind shouted. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d imagined her standing in his bedroom with those russet eyes filled with wanting. He reached for his side and pinched hard, waiting to see her dissolve into nothingness.

She took a step forward. “You’re not imagining things,” she told him, her voice somehow prettier than he remembered. He rubbed his jaw; aware he must look half insane standing as he was. Helion, unable to put together words, at least managed to lock the door behind him. Had he said an hour? Autumn’s courtier would go home unanswered.

“How?” He asked, fisting his hands at his sides. His eyes drifted towards her pert breasts, the rosy nipples stark against the near transparent fabric.

Her eyes sparked with amusement. “You haven’t heard?”

Helion’s knees began to shake as a smile spread across her beautiful face. “Eris is High Lord, now.”

“How?”

Mischief replaced her amusement. “How, indeed.”

“So you’re…” He couldn’t get the word out, couldn’t bring himself to say it only to be rebuffed. Centuries of waiting, of wanting, of yearning and now Helion needed her to say it.

“Yours?” She supplied. Finally, his body worked and Helion, unable to stand it a moment longer, surged towards his lady and yanked her into his arms. He meant to kiss her but his legs gave way and Helion knelt before her instead, hugging her middle.

“Stay,” he begged like he’d done many, many times before. She carded her fingers through his wet, tangled hair. “Please stay.”

“For how long?” She responded and Helion couldn’t believe it was real. It wasn’t really happening. He was dehydrated, still floating in the pool, fantasizing like he so often did. He squeezed her body, his hands taking on a life of their own as they began to slide the long shift up her thin legs.

“Forever,” he choked, catching the scent of her arousal before he hand the shift anywhere close to her cunt. She chucked over him, as though the scene unfolding amused her.

“Is that all?” She asked him and Helion growled, pressing his mouth against her thigh.

“No,” he replied, ripping the fabric bunched in his hands. She gasped but Helion would shred everything she brought from Autumn, every article of clothing, every pretty memento and, in time, every bad memory. He stood, ripping his way up to the neckline while she looked up at him with clear eyes. He’d forgotten how little she was in comparison and the urge to protect her flared to life.

She slid the sleeves of the now ruined undergarment to the floor, never breaking eye contact. “Is it as you remember?” She asked him, pressing a hand to his hard chest. He swallowed hard because no, she wasn’t as he remembered. Too thin, too pale…he could fix that.

“Better,” he said instead, sucking air in sharply when she pulled the knot out of his towel, letting the fabric drop to the floor. She cocked her head to the side, red curls spilling down her back. A smile curved over her pretty, red lips and Helion almost let her sink to her knees in front of him.

“No,” he all but snarled, catching her by the elbows. “Absolutely not.”

She frowned, opening her mouth to protest and while Helion would have liked nothing more than to feel her mouth around him again, he would have her body, or he would have nothing at all. He scooped her up, reveling in the feel of her bare skin against his own and swallowed any protest she might have offered with his lips. He felt fevered, hungry, and desperate for the female he spread delicately across his bed of white and gold.

He stopped his kissing just long enough to position himself on the bed, half covering her body with his own. She tasted exactly as he remembered, like roasted chestnuts and bright, sun washed apples and Helion was lost. He ran a broad hand up her thigh and over her stomach, over and over, reveling in the feel of her soft skin beneath his calloused hands.

Helion’s cock ached even before she reached between them and began to stroke. He groaned against her cheek, his eyes rolling back into his skull. Had anything ever felt so good? “Let me touch you,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

“I want to touch you,” he replied, settling a knee between her legs as he cradled her face in his hand. “I want to taste you.”

She sighed sweetly, shaking her head back and forth as though the whole thing were infinitely funny and not something Helion had been thinking about for practically his entire life. Three centuries. That’s how long it had been since he’d last touched her, tasted her…really spoke to her. He’d heard her offer him forever, but Helion couldn’t quite believe it. Their time was always numbered, always stolen in between hiding from Beron and he’d learned to take what he could before she vanished again.

He needed her to feel good, to think about his skin against hers, his mouth, his everything. He needed her to miss him the way he missed her.

“Why not both?” She asked a moment before he caught one of her rosy nipples between his teeth, breathing hot air against her breast as he teased gently. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hips bucked gently, rubbing against his thigh. The radiating heat was enough to almost convince Helion to abandon his plan of slow seduction in favor of rough, near animalistic fucking. Next time, he swore, not convinced there would be a next time. He needed to hear her scream his name so loud Rhysand and Thesan would hear over the border.

Down, down, down, he slid, his tongue trailing a path over her pale, freckled skin. He parted her thighs as her breath caught overhead and Helion thought he might cry at the sight of her, spread out like his favorite meal. Mine, you are mine—

He brushed his thumb over her wet, pink opening, delighted when her whole body seemed to quiver at the touch. He ground himself into the mattress in an attempt to alleviate the ache building but rationally, the only thing that would satisfy him was her clenched around him.

“Helion,” she gasped overhead, the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life. He wanted to hear her say it again. He took his thumb and rubbed an excruciatingly slow circle over her quivering clit as he watched over. Her back arched in response, her eyes flying open.

“Helion, please,” she begged this time. Not enough, he thought to himself, circling again, a smile curved over his lips.

She screamed softly with frustration, her eyes locked with his. Beautiful, so fucking beautiful—

“Helion!”

That was good, he decided, in part because he was also desperately wanted to taste the arousal he could smell. He dropped his head and licked, replacing his finger as Amera fisted her hand in his hair.

“Better,” she half-gasped. “Please don’t stop.”

As if he could. He’d just begun besides, intoxicated off the sweet, musky taste of her arousal. Wet, he thought, his tongue sliding back down her cunt towards the opening he very much planned to be in just as soon as she came in his mouth. She was so damn wet it was driving him insane.

He couldn’t resist sliding his tongue into her body, his nose rubbing against her clit, to fuck her with his mouth. She writhed overtop him, her slick coating his face in the most satisfying way. To Helion, he felt the wet like a brand upon his skin, a warning to any other who might come near him.

Yours, I’m yours—

Back to her clit, his tongue skilled, his fingers parting her so he could have more, all of her. Helion was greedy and always had been. He hated the thought of sharing, of only getting the pieces she could give. Everything was available to him now.

He wanted it all.

“Helion,” she gasped again, her thighs clenching around his face. Helion smiled, his mouth moving faster, methodically, exactly the way he remembered. Her hands tightened in his hair, pulling almost painfully to hold him exactly where he was. Her hips bowed off the bed the same moment a scream ripped through the pulsating silence, his name mingled somewhere between. He didn’t stop, riding her through and, perhaps, hopeful she’d let him keep going.

She yanked hard, demanding him to come back to her. He’d intended to slide himself right in, anticipation warm in his stomach but it was clear Amera had other thoughts. She sat up quickly, her eyes liquid flame, and pushed him to the bed before he could do little more than exhale.

She straddled him without a hint of hesitation, positioning the head of his cock over her dripping pussy. Helion cried out when she sank down quickly, taking every inch of him all at once. His eyes snapped open as she began to rock, her breasts bouncing in his line of view.

He was tense, taut with burning desire. It was all too much and Helion knew he wasn’t going to be able to drag it out the way he’d wanted to. She was so tight it felt like a second skin. It was all Helion could do but hold her hips, his fingers grazing the swell of her ass.

She dug her nails into his chest hard enough she was close to drawing blood. She remembered, he thought in a daze. He liked that edge of pain, the feral part of fucking that left gouges in his skin as a reminder of what they’d done. He couldn’t bring himself to bruise her skin, not when he knew she’d spent centuries hiding them. She could hurt him however she liked but Helion could not hurt her at all.

“Come for me,” he begged, so close he was hanging by a thread. He was counting in his head, trying to prevent himself from spilling though electricity hummed through his veins, urging him to let go and give in to the building heat that had settled in his sac. “Please, Amera—”

She came again, the walls of her cunt fluttering around him with intensity. He lost his control, roaring so loud he knew the Autumn emissary knew why he was waiting. His muscles locked for a moment as release poured out of him, his warm come spilling from her pussy back down his shaft to pool on the sheets below them.

He reached for her, still sheathed within her, and kissed her roughly, desperately. This had always been the part where she left him and Helion couldn’t help his terror. Don’t leave me, he begged silently. Stay.

She caressed his face, smiling as she looked down at his face. “You shouldn’t keep Eris waiting.”

“Let him,” Helion replied, his voice hoarse. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“I’m not leaving,” she promised but Helion crushed her to his chest all the same.

Forever wasn’t long enough.

[m88n]

[8.02 pm] - when mark lee gets angered by your cheating boyfriend

angst, smut, fluff

►listen to it’s you - zayn, so beautiful - dpr ian

“He did.. what?”

You look off to the side, almost guiltily.

“Yeah… I ended up finding out that, he really did sleep with Vanessa.” You say, looking down at your hands, restlessly fiddling on your lap.

Mark rakes his hair in bewilderment, proceeding to rub his face with one hand, seemingly trying really hard to digest the information he’s been presented with.

“y/n… You mean to tell me, you gave him all those chances when you obviously shouldn’t, only for him to run off with some girl?” He asks you bluntly.

“Mark….” You simply say, feeling hurt by his insensitivity.

He palms his face for a moment once more, then sits down in front of you on the sofa, looking straight at you with his clear eyes.

“..I’m sorry, y/n. It’s just frustrating to see you deal with him all the time,”

“Well, I’m sorry Mark, if I tire you by talking about my problems all the time, I thought you told me I could rely on you like this,” You say with a quivering voice, unable to hide your disappointment with the way he’s dealing with your vulnerability.

“You could, y/n—”

“Then why be that blunt with me when you know I obviously need comfort?!” You ask, raising your voice, tears starting to brim in the corners of your eyes.

He pauses to take in the look of your face.

“Because I can’t keep on seeing you like this, y/n!” He exclaims.

You look at him taken aback and puzzled, not entirely understanding what he means.

“I hate seeing the girl I like keep getting hurt by some assbag, while I sit here and do nothing about it, okay?!” He finishes.

You look at him, wide eyed, completely stunned by his response.

“M-Mark, I…”

He quickly moves to sit right next to you, and you could see the silent burn behind his dark irises.

“Do you know how it feels like, to have someone you cherish so much, crying about someone who treats them like shit?” He asks in a low voice.

“Mark, I’m-I’m sorry, I di—”

He stops you completely in your tracks by firmly taking your shoulders and pressing a warm, haste kiss on your lips. After you feel the touch of his lips leave yours, his gaze lingers on your eyes, his clear eyes weighted by what seems like agony, then looks down as he still keeps his grip gentle on your shoulders.

“I can’t handle seeing you cry, and apologize, for someone that keeps on hurting you, I can’t do it, y/n,”

You feel his hands ever so slightly quiver on your shoulders. You examine the way his black locks cast shadows over his paled face, his cheeks dusted light pink. Then your gaze flits towards his lips—he’s biting his lip.

After a moment of silence, Mark shuts his eyes, fully realizing what he just did.

“I’m sorry I did that, y/n, I was just feeling so much—”

You stop him from finishing his sentence by planting one gentle kiss on his forehead, then looking at his eyes with nothing but tenderness.

“It’s okay, Mark.” You say gently, eyes fixed on Mark’s.

“B-but—” Mark stops himself, feeling your thumb graze across his lower lip. His face grows warmer, face flushing a shade of vibrant pink at your featherlight touch.

You smile at him, before leaning over towards him with your eyes fluttered close, gradually closing the gap between your faces, until your lips finally touch. The kiss feels soft, almost sacred, as you two finally cross the line that you’ve been walking around for the longest time. Mark sighs into the kiss as his grip on your shoulders slide down to your arms, your fingers ghosting over the back of his neck, finally softly gripping his hair to nudge him even closer to you. His supple lips melt onto yours, making its home in the comfort of your touches. His hands slide down towards your waist as he positions himself in between your legs, gently pushing you against the arm of the sofa. As the heat of the kiss slowly makes itself known through soft moans and utter impatience in getting lost in each other, Mark suddenly pulls back from the kiss, only for you to hold him back with your firm grip behind his neck.

“Hold up, y/n, stop,” Mark tries to say in between kisses.

“What, why?” You respond breathlessly, as neither of you tries to stop kissing each other despite Mark’s futile attempt to.

“Is this okay...? I mean,” He says, before you interrupt him with a peck.

“Don’t you want this..?” You ask him with half-lidded eyes. Mark’s eyes darts towards your lips for a moment, before shutting his eyes and shaking his head a little.

“I mean, of course I do, but, what about him?” Mark says, touching your hands behind his neck, and you finally cease trying to kiss each other.

You sigh at his question, leaving it hanging in the air. He looks at you with apparent concern, pupils wavering, however visibly restraining himself from forcing an answer out of you.

“…I’m sorry it took me ages, Mark…” You start, while looking down at your lap. Mark looks at you questioningly.

“Him sleeping with Vanessa obviously hurt me, given that I’ve spent…. Or maybe wasted, 2, almost 3 years with that guy, but it really served as the wake-up call I needed.” You continued, gently pulling your hands away from Mark and fiddling with your nails with your hands on your lap. “A-And I guess, I was just really confused, like I’m still learning all about this relationship stuff and how it works for me or whatever…”

Mark looks at you with raised brows, obviously waiting for you to continue.

“When I discovered he did that… I realized that I got angry not because I love him, I don’t even think I do anymore, I realized—I think I got angry because I let this stuff happen to me for far too long.…” You try to explain.

Mark’s gaze softens upon you, his hand slowly reaching towards the hair framing your face, before he stops himself.

“What I do know, is when you said you.. like me,” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up, “I just--just feel butterflies.. I don’t know, I’ve always loved being around you, I guess this kind of pure affection is just so.… Foreign to me.” You finish, finally braving yourself to look up to his face despite the feeling of bashfulness taking over your entire body.

Mark looks down at you with an unreadable expression, though you could tell that his gaze is nothing but gentle. He slowly takes both of his hands and cups your face with them delicately, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s everything you deserve and more, y/n.”

He kisses you with everything he has, caging your body with his hands firmly propped on the arm of the sofa. The kiss he gives you is gentle, yet forceful enough to leave you breathless. He takes no time in deepening the kiss as his tongue enters your mouth, taking one of his hands onto your jaw, running his fingers through your hair, before ever so slightly grasping onto your strands. You could feel him desperately trying to hold onto this moment, afraid that you might slip through his fingers anytime soon.

“Mark—” You try to speak in between his kisses.

He stops, panting lightly as he looks at you with his blown-out pupils and swollen lips. You gently take his face with your hands, cupping it and locking eyes with him.

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere.” You say, almost in a whisper.

A soft sigh leaves his lips, pupils quivering before seemingly bracing himself for the next thing he is about to say.

“Are you sure about that?”

You look down, before bringing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Why would I leave something that’s so good for me?”

Mark looks at you, seemingly debating your answer for a moment. He settles on placing his lips on your neck instead, working his way down your chest, his hot, wet kisses leaving fiery trails in its wake. You take the back of his head, gently pulling on his hair, sighing onto his touches. He brings one hand to your shoulders, slowly pulling down the straps of your dress, revealing your bare chest. He continues planting kisses down to your nipples, taking the sensitive bud with his soft lips and tongue, soft moans passing through your lips.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, I want you to be all mine.” He murmurs against your chest, still shallowly sucking on the skin, small bruises starting to bloom across your decolletage.

“….I’m all yours now, Mark.” You finally say affectionately, in between soft breaths.

He looks at you for a second, before capturing your lips in a heated kiss, devouring your lips and tongue, as he continues to fondle your breast with one hand. He slides his hand below your hips to lift you up in a princess carry, which takes you by complete surprise, as he really doesn’t seem like the most built type.

He walks you to his bedroom with ease, swiftly closing the door to his bedroom with one leg, then gently dropping your body onto the center of his queen-sized bed. He proceeds to take off his dark grey t-shirt, revealing his lean yet toned musculature, you note, especially throughout his biceps and torso area. You can’t stop yourself from staring at Mark Lee completely topless in front of you, his body looking much more toned than you’d imagine. He’s always worn some of his vast assortment of hoodies when he hangs out with you, and you’ve never paid too much attention to him, so this is definitely a surprise to you, albeit a pleasant one.

“You wanna show me just how much?”

“What?” His question snaps you out of your daze.

“You wanna show me just how much of you are mine now?” He drawls, and you turn to take a good look at his eyes, still distinctly clear as it’s always been, however now visibly darkened in a hungered gaze as he takes in the sight of you on his bed, like a predator carefully examining its prey.

You’re completely unfamiliar with this more dominant side of Mark, and instead of provoking you to fight back, it feels like a call that is beckoning for you to submit to. You fumble with your answer for a moment, and you see Mark trying to fight off a smirk, while he slowly makes his way closer to you on the bed. Your heart is beating erratically fast from the distance closing in, despite being all over him just moments ago. He looks at you, again, with that indecipherable gaze, as he takes your cheek with the light touch of his hand, and you’d be surprised if he couldn’t hear the sound of your thumping heartbeat. Since when did Mark have this kind of side?

“Since you said I’d be that good for you,” He starts in a low voice, almost a whisper.

He slowly puts his lips closer to your ear, breath fanning your sensitive spot. The heat coming off of his body and his warm breath sending you into an intoxicating trance, your mind slowly slipping off of its senses, core throbbing from the sensory overload. Before you knew it, he closes in even further with his presence, completely shrouding you with his aura as he slips his fingers in between yours on the surface of the mattress.

“You wanna show me just how good you could be for me?”

He whispers onto your ear, not forgetting to leave a small peck on the spot under your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He locks eyes with you, jet black eyes attempting to hide the last bits of his burning desire from bursting out of its feeble confines. He is still the same guy. He’s Mark. Something else just awakened this part of him. You get chills thinking that something is really none other than you.

You almost forget to respond, so you nod timidly, eyes still maintaining its gaze upon Mark’s. He smiles with heavy lidded eyes full of pure ardor. You almost couldn’t believe that this is the same cute boy with innocent eyes that you’ve grown really close to—or at least you thought so. You suddenly feel his thumb graze your lips, as you maintain your gazes towards each other. As if instinctual, you take his thumb into your mouth in a light suck, and he smiles a little wider, looking down at your utter submission to his cues.

“Good girl.”

He suddenly places both his hands on your waist, lifting you up effortlessly, earning an abrupt yelp from you. He places you right on his lap, on top of his long legs extended across the large mattress. You gingerly put your arms around his neck in order to anchor yourself, before realizing that your very own throbbing, slickened core is rubbing against a certain hardened bulge—Mark’s hardened bulge, through his sweatpants.

“..I can feel you on me, baby.” He says in a low voice, almost growling.

Your face heats up from the sound of his throaty groan, as well as the sheer hardness of his cock, and the implication that he might’ve felt your wetness through your pants. It takes you by surprise when Mark suddenly jerks his hips against yours, causing you to moan loudly from the friction you’ve been needing. You could feel him tightening his grip on your waist, as you follow suit with your grip on his back to steady yourself on his lap. Lost in a trance from the pleasure you’ve been permitted to feel, you take no time in grinding your hips against Mark’s, head thrown back.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, keep doing that,” He breathes on your neck. “Shit, already so wet for me,”

You keep grinding on his hardness, whimpering against Mark’s bare shoulder, both from the pleasure and also from desperation in craving for his actual girth.

“M-Mark, please…” You plead.

“..Please what, baby?” He asks you in between broken breaths.

“I want it s-so bad,…” You continue, still rocking your hips against Mark’s, fully clothed from the waist down.

“You need to say it for me, baby, ask for it from me,” He says, lightly grabbing your chin with one hand, forcing you to look straight into his eyes.

Tears starts to brim on the edges of your eyes from the utter shame and neediness you’re displaying, but you honestly couldn’t care less at this point.

“..I need you to fuck me, Mark, please,” You whine.

With that, he takes no time in reaching for his waistband and freeing his erection from the restraints of his sweatpants. He brings his hands to the article of clothing still limply hanging off of your body, gathers it, and finally takes your dress off of you, tossing it in the general direction of the floor. As he does so, you take off your panties and throw it in the same direction, leaving you completely naked for him.

“Fuck, look at you, so beautiful like this,” He mutters to himself, bringing his hands to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples, getting you to moan needily from his touches.

“Wanna be a good girl for me?” He breathes out, keeping his grip loose on your waist. You take this as a signal to do it yourself, so you do what you need to. You lift your body from his thigh, placing your hands firmly on Mark’s back, before taking his cock into you.

You let out a guttural moan, feeling the unexpected length and girth of Mark’s cock, as you haven’t been able to clearly see due to the darkness of his bedroom. You grip his back even tighter as you try to fully sheathe his dick into you, hip stuttering, feeling the mixture between pain and pleasure from having you been broken into by his cock.

“F-fuck, baby, feel so tight, so good around me,” He says with gritted teeth, hands tightening around your waist. “Sucking me in so much, fuck,”

You whimper as you try to move yourself against his hardness, proving it to be a harder task than expected as you might be a little tight for him. After settling into his size, you begin to gain a momentum as you continue to bounce on his cock, your high-pitched moans bouncing off of the walls with every thrust. Mark moves his hands to your ass, and attaches his lips on yours hungrily, kissing you sloppily as you continue to ride him, your cries diminishing into throaty groans.

“F-fuck, so fucking big,” You moan in between breaths. “You make me feel so, so good,”

The bedroom is filled with sounds of slapping skins, wet kisses, grunts, pants, and moans, as both of you eagerly tries to reach your highs. Mark attaches his lips on your neck, sucking at one spot without any care for leaving a mark.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long,” He groans against your neck.

You throw your head back from his cock hitting your g-spot as you have been trying to grind deeper down on him, Mark working to meet you with his thrusts, filling you exceptionally deep with his cock, causing each thrust to knock the air out of your lungs.

“F-fuck, now I’m all yours, Mark,” You stutter. “We can do this all day, all night, whenever you n-need,”

Mark groans at your remark, before he lifts you and pushes you against the surface of the mattress, fucking into you quickly and deeply, leaving you breathless and gasping his name like a mantra, your toes curling and eyes rolling back from pleasure. Your mind loses itself as you feel Mark’s breathy groans on your ear and his cock reaching your absolute depths, causing your core to tighten, approaching its climax.

“Cum for me, baby,” He mutters against your ear as he continues to pound into you mercilessly.

Taking your lips in his in a heated kiss while raking his fingers through your hair, he continues to pound into you fast and hard, your moans muffled by the kiss. As he keeps on hitting your sensitive spots, you finally begin to see white and feel your legs quiver uncontrollably. In feeling you’ve reached your high, Mark finally spills his seed into you with muttered swears, his warmth seeping into your insides. He continues to fuck into you through your high with deep, erratic thrusts, sending you into a blissful trance as you ride the rest of it letting out the loudest whines and cries of pleasure.  

You pant to calm your pacing heartbeat as your body comes down from the high, still twitching as it settles. Mark peppers soft kisses onto your face, then to your shoulders, stroking your hair, looking at you with gleaming, round eyes that seem to hold the whole universe in them.

“…I still can’t believe you’re kinda... Mine now.” He finally breathes out, taking in the sight of you entirely. “You are... Right?”

You smile sweetly at him, seeing just how preciously he’s looking at you, feeling the gentleness in the way he’s holding you, wondering after all this time, you’ve been coming home to the wrong place, when home is actually much nearer than you’ve ever expected.

“I’m yours just as much as you want me to be, Marky.”