#//being made to steal the second key with every plan to keep it away from the scientist....

[reflections-of-mobius]

A power that let one teleport...but Volt and Shadow weren't the only ones with that ability- Cedar had also been capable,...though admittedly, their's had been spawned from a moment of sheer panic and confusion. There hadn't been rhyme or reason--- it had just- activated. Undoubtedly, something they'd have to get better at if they didn't want to accidentally teleport all over the place.

"I'll guide you both to whatever you need, so long as it's something that might be within the base." Fifty years was a long time, though...there was no telling what materials were left. All the same- they'd have to make do with what they had. "It will also give me time to sort out that blue screen...I saw 'skills' somewhere, so one may be able to aid us." For him, there was a flash of blue- another- flicking through menus as rapidly as he could. Stats, skills, titles- an ear flicking. Attention returning to the corridor they were all within. Had to find a generator, get this place operational,...

"...I'd offer benefit of the doubt, but you're probably right." Cedar let out a sigh. Shadow and Harmony had basically demolished a few city blocks and buildings. Finding a secret organization's leader dead a few blocks away from the main carnage, and the 'aliens' nowhere in sight?...at the very least, the public would be after Shadow and Harmony. Tag on that Volt and Cedar had embraced the two so happily,...yep.

Shadow's eyes flashed towards Volt as he reappeared. So that was how his Chaos Control worked?...it was really similar to Shadow's own- down to the usage of energy to create the teleport.

"There is no such ability on my list called 'Chaos Snap'." Though it could've easily been a difference in worlds, nothing more. "My abilities do derive from my Chaos Energy, though, so the first statement stands in this world as well. Or so I'll assume, for the time being." His eyes flicked to Cedar- who shrugged- and then over to Harmony. "...it would be best. I can help you move some of the materials, until I have to split off to show Volt the generator."

Violet energy... Chaos Control and Chaos Snap... Cedar's eyes were drawn to the teen. She--- holy fuck. They'd seen her fight on the TV, but still. Holy shit they were glad she wasn't pissed at them.

"It looks like...all of my skills are healing spells, one cure...dreamwalker....and--- multiversal-- teleport...ation..." Nope, they were not thinking about that. "...at least it looks like I can heal everybody." They'd take that ability in stride- there wasn't much else they knew to help with, right now. "Or- go procure some supplies. Place may be a maze, but I've always been good at mazes n' whatnot."

Anything to help. Whether getting food or snagging stuff for traps- it looked like that was all they'd be able to do. It didn't help that they'd spotted a warning at the bottom of the main screen.

MP Regen severely diminished due to corruption. What the Hell...

"If we're all set, then I'll guide everyone to the front doors.- That's the only entrance into this base. We can make my...room....our camp, since it's at the opposite end...and then we'll split up for our various tasks." He cast a glance towards Volt and Harmony. "...does that sound fair?" He'd never had to be on the run before- and it sounded like those two had far more experience,...so it was best to defer to them.

“Just need a minute.” Volt could see that Cedar was trying to help and he offered them a smile at the same time he waved his daughter off. “My body is weird with other’s Chaos Energy.” The best explanation he could give at the moment that wouldn’t involve too much of a history lesson.

Although as he stood back up and gathered his own energy to use as a second light source, the hybrid realized that he needed to explain some things. “I can, but bringing others with me ain’t as easy for me as it is him.”

A nod was given to Shadow. Both in regard of referring to him and also answering. If they found the generator, he’d see if he couldn’t start it back up so they could at least have some form of power while they were hiding.

One step at a time though. They still needed to see if they could find it. “A day’s better than nothing. It’ll at least give us time t’ plan what we’re gonna do next. If not prepare some counter measures in case they think they can get the drop on us.”

“We can try t’ set up traps like we used t’.” Harmony tossed the idea to her father. The small things they used to do while on the run that would at least alert them that something was getting too close. That way Volt had the ability to plan if they would run or if it was just a false alarm. If nothing else, maybe it could buy them a little more time there.

“I think no matter what would have happened, we would have gotten the blame.” Volt looked to Cedar. “That news media didn’t sound too thrilled when describing those two going at it on the tv before we got there.” A small gesture with his free hand made towards the teen and Shadow, the former taking to looking around a little more closely for anything useful.

“As for the teleportin’… In our Zone, ‘s a bit more complicated than that. I can use it cuz o’ my Black Arms genetics but hedgehogs in our Zone with enough Chaos Energy can do it too. Only Chaos Control. They can’t do the snap.”

For a quick demonstration, Volt went from standing in front of Cedar to beside Nova with a quick flash of violet light. Harmony mumbled a quick ‘show off’ before reaching down to move a piece of debris from the facility that was blocking more of the area they were in.

“Want me t’ pile a buncha this stuff in front o’ some o’ the doorways? Just in case they try t’ get in that way?” The teen offered while still holding the large piece of machinery with one hand.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 13

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: SMUT, p in v intercourse, face sitting (oral F), tiny mention of butt stuff 😜, angst, period, Emma embarrassed, anxious Sy, Nana (because her sassiness is a warning), language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 12

Two weeks have passed since Emma’s parents visited and we have been spending the night together every night since. I’ve cleaned out a drawer in my bedroom that now holds extra clothes for when Emma’s here including some work scrubs so she can leave straight from my house. She cleaned out a drawer at her house for me and my spare clothes. I haven’t had this level of commitment to someone since I was in my twenties, but rather than feeling afraid I feel comforted. Coming home to her is just the most incredible feeling. She has really transformed my house into a home simply with her presence. We gave each other spare keys to each other’s homes last week so we wouldn’t have to wait on each other. I have finally accepted that Emma is my end game and I can’t run from happiness anymore. She’s basically aware of how damaged I am, having seen me through my worst flashback yet and even then, she wasn’t scared away. I often catch myself thinking about us living together, marrying her, and what our lives would look like if she would have me. I made myself so hard thinking about her pregnant with my children that I had to take a second shower one day last week. May have tapped into a bit of a breeding kink there but I plan to keep that to myself.

Tonight, it’s a Friday night and we decided to stay at mine. I’m on my way home and pull up to see that Emma’s jeep is already parked in the driveway and I smile. The vet clinic closes early on Friday afternoons due to it being slow, but this is the first time she’s beat me home. I unlock the front door and my nostrils are assaulted with the most incredible smelling aroma after a long day in the sun. I’m surprised that there are no dogs rushing to bombard me with excitement at the door, but as I walk further down the hall to find them practically on top of Emma on the couch as a show played on the tv. 

“Hi Darlin’. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” I say with a kiss to her forehead from behind the couch that she’s resting on. Emma’s lounging in one of my t-shirts and some of her teeny tiny sleep shorts that never fail to make me instantly hard. I can even tell that she’s braless and I’m tempted to cop a feel. 

“Mmm. Hi babe. How was work?”

“Hot.” I say honestly as I spent the majority of the day outside in the sun building a porch for a client. “Something smells amazing in the kitchen.”

“The lasagna has about ten more minutes until it’s done. I figure that’s enough time for you to shower or change into comfortable clothes before we eat.”

“You’re too damn good to me, Sugar.” I say as I tuck a stray hair from her eyes that’s fallen from her messy updo. 

“Nope, just trying to be as good as you deserve.” She says with a shy smile and I find myself not wanting to leave her presence even for just a quick shower after being without her all day. I make a point to greet the dogs who have traitorously not left Emma’s side even to greet me as I chuckle to myself at how quickly this astonishing woman has won all of us over.

I head to my bedroom, chucking clothes off as I go and toss them all into the hamper, which is surprisingly empty. I hop in the shower not wasting any time getting back to my girl, and a delicious smelling meal. Once I’m through, I put on some lounge shorts and a t-shirt and find Emma in the kitchen plating up our food. She’s made lasagna with garlic bread, and she poured us each a glass of sweet tea. My stomach growled at the sight and she giggled cutely as I helped carry the food to the table. Before she sits, I wrap her into my arms and kiss her. 

“Thank you for making dinner, Sugar.”

“Mmm, anytime. You sure you’re okay with me using the key and showing up before you got here? I was bored at the house and figured the pups would keep me company.”

“Darlin’, I can’t possibly tell you how much it brought a smile to my face having you here when I got home. I always want you here. Feels like a home with you in it. Now, let’s eat this feast, babygirl.”

“I made brownies for dessert.” She grins as she picks up her drink.

“You trying to make me pop a boner at the dinner table?” I ask jokingly and she chokes on her sip of sweet tea. Once Emma’s breath comes back to her after I dutifully contributed by smacking her back, we both start laughing so hard she has tears streaming down her face.

“I did not expect you to say that, Sy!” I’ve noticed she calls me Sy when she’s being playful or out in public. When it’s just us or family around, she calls me Austin and I honestly really like that since nobody ever uses my first name besides her.

“I usually think of that sweet pussy when I think of dessert, but I don’t mind having a brownie or two first.” I say with a wink and she shakes her head at me with a grin.

“So vulgar, Mr. Syverson.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Ms. Miller.” I joke back.

We ate dinner until we were stuffed and I quickly began cleaning the kitchen.  “Don’t look at me like that, woman. You cooked all of this. I’m cleaning. Go turn on your show and relax.” I tell her and she smacks my ass as she walks to the living room, with the dogs faithfully following her lead. I clean up and don’t hear the tv going so when I go looking for her, I see her in the backyard with the dogs. The summer heat has lessened as it is approaching dusk and Emma stands just outside the screened in porch throwing a tennis ball for Mills. Aika is rolling in the grass as lightning bugs start appearing at the edge of the yard. I walk out and wrap Emma tightly in my arms. 

“I thought I told you to relax, Angel.”

“I am. This house, your property, everything about being here relaxes me. It’s so calm and quiet here.”

“Yeah? Always thought of this place as my little slice of heaven. Even more with you here.” I tell her and she smiles.

“Think you could see yourself living here with me one day?” I ask knowing it’s probably way to early and I might freak her out. To my surprise, she smiles and wraps her arms along my forearms that are holding her waist. 

“It’s almost too easy to imagine that.” She whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask and she nods.

“Want to move in with me?” I ask surprising myself even. It’s early in the relationship still, but it feels right.

“Isn’t it too soon?” She asks as she turns and looks at my face scanning for the answer to her question.

“I guess that’s up to us to decide. I’m not ever wanting to pressure ya, Sugar, but I can’t say I don’t picture us living here together in this big old house. Maybe one day even some kids to fill up those bedrooms.”

Emma beams and kisses me. Moments of gentle kisses soon become heated and I’m guiding her back inside the screened in porch, the screen door squealing in protest as it slams behind us. 

“Time for dessert, and I don’t mean the brownies.” I say between passionate kisses. My hands are under the too large shirt she’s wearing, and I pull it over her head. She seemingly has no qualms about being topless here in my secluded backyard and I quickly reach behind my neck and pull my own shirt off so I can feel her skin against mine. Our hands are everywhere, groping and teasing at the same time before I turn her back against my chest and take her breasts in my hands while nipping down her neck. After sucking on her skin, I turn and lay myself down on my back on the outdoor couch that I had built a few years ago. 

“Climb on, sweetness.” I tell her and she slides her tiny shorts down along with her barely there thong and steps out of them. Emma reaches for my shorts that are tented from my very obvious boner but I shake my head and point to my chin. Emma’s cheeks turn bright pink and I smirk at her.

“Got your seat all ready for ya, Darlin’. Let me have a taste of that perfect peach.”

“I’ve never done that.” She whispers as I pull her close to my face. 

“Sit down.” I tell her.

“Austin, you won’t be able to breathe, I’ll smother you!” Emma frets. Like her tiny little frame could possibly suffocate me, but even so that would be the ideal way to go.

“Woman, just sit on my face!” I say as I pull her hips and ass down and hold her tightly. Emma gasps when she contacts my beard and I blow my warm breath onto her delicate core.

“That’s more like it, Sugar. Relax and let me eat.” I command with a smack to her ass cheeks. Emma surges forward and grips the arm rest of the couch as I get to work. I slide my tongue around her entrance and lick up in figure eights around her clit. Emma’s breathing becomes faster and when I spear my tongue into her opening she moans. My hands knead and massage her buttocks as I stare up at her heaving breasts that are chasing each breath she takes. Her eyes are closed tightly as her head tilts back slightly from the sensation I’m providing. When I begin putting pressure on her sensitive little button, Emma begins grinding against my face, her earlier hesitation seemingly no longer of concern. I double down and focus my efforts of pleasuring her as best as I can. My arm stretches out and grabs a handful of her breasts and lightly pinch the peaked bud. God, I could stay down here all day watching her like this. I continue teasing her sensitive nipples and am finally rewarded with her grinding down hard as her hands are grasping the short hair on my head. Emma moans loudly in her bliss, not caring one bit that we are outside. Her thighs clamp around me as I suck on her sweet little nub and greedily swallow up the juices that are dripping from her core. I maneuver Emma to where she is laying on top of me as she comes down from her high and wipe my soaked beard with my hand. Emma leans up to kiss me and I’m certain she can taste her little cunt on my lips which makes me painfully hard. 

“Fuck me, Sy. Hard.” She whines which makes me immediately sit up and lean her over the arm of the outdoor couch. Emma is panting in wordless anticipation as run my finger through her slick arousal before dropping my shorts and pressing myself against her. Emma impatiently pushes her ass further into my leaking erection and after spreading her legs a little wider, I slide home.

“Fucking hell, Darlin’. Never had a pussy feel so good. You’re perfect, baby girl.” I growl at her warm, wet heat as it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. It’s a privilege being able to worship her body and that knowledge is not lost on me. I give her only a moment to adjust before I retreat and then slam into her again. 

“Ah! Baby! You feel so good inside of me.” She mewls as I thrust into her. I spread her round globes and look at her perfect little asshole.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby girl. So beautiful and sexy.” I grunt.

“Tell me if you don’t like what I’m doing, Sugar.” I command. My ball sack is smacking her clit each time I thrust forward and I can no longer help myself. I spit onto her tight hole and gently circle it with my thumb. Emma moans at the sensation and I slowly slide my thumb into her tight rim. I smack her left ass cheek as I gently prod my thumb in and out of her snug hole.

“Fuck babe! I’m gonna cum!”

“Yeah Darlin’, let go for me. Let me feel you soak my cock.” I grunt.

Emma moans as she clamps down around me and I spear into her harder and faster until I reach my release, spurting my seed into her channel. Emma presses her body against the couch and I can’t help but lay across her soft back as I try and catch my breath. I’m not as young as I once was, but Sy’s still got it.

Emma looks absolutely shattered so once I remove myself from her, I gather our clothes, let the dogs inside and carry her to the master bathroom. I set her on the toilet while I start filling the bathtub and appreciate Emma’s sleepy smile at my preparations. While the water is filling, I jog back down to the kitchen, wash my hands, and grab the platter of brownies Emma made with two cups of milk. Emma giggles when she sees me smuggling our treats back into the bathroom and setting out a stool next to the tub to place them on. When the water is filled and the bubbles are sufficient, I step in first before helping Emma in and positioning her on my lap. Emma’s back rests against my chest and I think about the last time we bathed in here together and how nervous I was for her to sleep over. Now, I only sleep poorly when she’s not next to me. I lean forward and get each of us a brownie and we gently bump them together with a “cheers” before digging in. 

“I gave Millsy-bear his last set of puppy shots this afternoon when I got here, by the way.” She says.

“Thanks, Sugar. No wonder he was snuggling hard on the couch when I made it home.”

“I gave him treats and extra cuddles for having to get a shot. Aika got one just for being cute. Bribery is key in veterinary medicine.” Emma says.

“You make house calls for all of your clients?”

“Only one. My favorite.”

“You’re my favorite too, Sugar.” I place a kiss on her temple.

“Oh, I was talking about Mills… Awkward.” She jokes and I tickle her ribs.

 “I guess you’re up there on the list of my favorite things.” Emma says with kiss to my lips before picking a brownie crumb from my scruff. She smiles as she eats it and then takes a bite out of her dessert.

“Are you always this happy?” I ask her without thinking. I know I have a reputation of being extremely serious, or a ‘grump’ as Alex says, but Emma is the opposite. She’s like sunshine. The daytime to my nighttime. She’s made me smile and laugh more in these three months than probably ever before.

“Um not at all. You just make me really happy, Sy.” 

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Darlin.”

Emma and I lay in the tub talking about all things that come to mind until the water gets cold and my perpetual warmth isn’t enough for her. She's shivering as we climb out. We rinse off the bubble bath in the shower quickly before getting in bed and falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. 

I wake up early the next morning, close to six am and see my sleeping beauty is still a mess of hair and disheveled blankets next to me. She slept in one of my t-shirts last night since she was still cold from our extended bath, and as no surprise it’s twisted up around her waist. I smile at her disarray before snuggling up to her. When I do, I feel like I’ve rolled in something wet so I lift the covers. Oh no, a little patch of blood. Emma must’ve started her period in her sleep and knowing what I do about how she’s been treated in the past, I don’t want her to panic. I ease out of bed to grab some clothes, using my military stealth to do so as quietly as possible. Luckily my girl could sleep through a tornado, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I scribbled out a quick note telling her not to panic, and that I’ve run to the store but I’ll be right back in case she wakes up before placing it on my pillow.

Thank goodness there is a pharmacy about seven minutes from my house. I walk in and try my best to think of anything she might need. I purchase some tampons, pads, painkillers, a hot water bottle, and all of the chocolate my arms can carry. They even had some flowers there and I grabbed those at the checkout. The elderly woman at the register just smiled at me and told me I was a “good man.” This should be the standard for men taking care of their women, but clearly, it’s not. I quickly load everything up and head back to the house. I head to bedroom and Emma hasn’t moved an inch. I take the female hygiene items to the bathroom and place them on the countertop, before going to gently wake Emma up. I hate to do it but I figure it’s likely better to let her only see a little spot of blood rather than a big one and panicking even more.

“Sugar… Hey beautiful.” I stroke her hair away from her face and she gently shakes her head at me.

“uh-uh… no.” She grunts and I chuckle. 

“Darlin’, can you wake up for me for just a minute please?”

“It’s Saturday… and still dark out, Sy.” She says after peaking one eye open.

“I know, and I’ll let you go back to sleep in just a minute but I need your attention.”

She yawns before I continue.

“I don’t want you to panic, so please remember, it’s okay. I’m not like the guys you’ve been with in the past.”

“Sy? What are you saying? It’s too early for riddles.”

“I think you may have started your period last night. Now, it’s no problem but I wanted to let you know so you co”

“Oh my god!” She interrupts, jerking covers up above her head to appraise the situation. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She says with tears rimming her eyes as she lifts her head from the covers.

“Now, stop it right there. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. It’s okay, Sugar. Take a breath.” 

“I… um.. need to head back to my house.” She says quickly as a tear falls from her eye.

“I’ve got everything you need, baby, and I’m going to take care of you. Now, head on into the bathroom and take care of what you need to, and I’ll take care of this.” 

“Sy, I’m so embarrassed. I need tampons and I didn’t bring any. I will replace the sheets.”

“No need, I’ll just toss ‘em in the washer and it’ll be just fine. I bought tampons and pads. They’re on the counter.” I help her out of bed and lead her into the bathroom. 

“I tried to get a little bit of everything since I don’t know what you prefer so you just do what you need to do, baby girl. Nothing to be embarrassed about, I promise.” I kiss her forehead and she nods as more tears streak down her face. I want to scoop her up and stop her tears but figured she might just want a minute alone to collect herself. I hear the shower turn on as I close the door behind me.

I walk out and quickly strip the bed and throw the sheets in the washer before making the bed up with clean sheets. As I’m making the bed, I get angry thinking about her douche ex-boyfriend who made her feel so ashamed for her body doing something that it is supposed to do. The more I think about it, the angrier I get as I’m shoving the pillows into the new pillowcases.

“Um, thank you, for the stuff.” I hear Emma whisper as I quickly turn around and see her there. She looks so small as she wraps her arms around herself.

“Is what I got okay?” I ask and she nods before going to her bag and pulling on some new panties, t-shirt, and sweatpants.

I pat the clean bed and she crawls up next to me before I hear her sob into my chest. I can’t seem to get her to look at me as she buries her face into my chest so I just hold her until her breath comes easier.

“Feel better?”

“Not really. I’m just embarrassed.”

“No need to be baby girl. I promise you, it’s fine. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“You make me comfortable. It’s just hard to change how I think after being told it was disgusting my whole life.”

“Trust me, if I ever see that douchebag again I will punch him so hard for ever making you feel like that.” I tell her as I wipe a tear from her cheek.

“Let me take care of you?” I ask and Emma nods with a small smile.

“Good. I got you an arsenal of chocolate, some painkillers, and a hot water bottle too.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t that stuff helpful?”

“It is, very much so… I just mean you didn’t have too.” 

“I want too… Sugar, I love you.” I say and Emma sits up to look at me.

“You do?” She bites her lip.

“I love you more than I can even articulate.” I tell her truthfully.

“I love you too, Austin. I love you so much.” She says and I swear to God, I am beaming. 

I love this woman and she loves me. Emma leans forward and kisses me in a kiss so consuming I can picture our whole lives together. After kissing a little, we lay back down and I stroke her hair until she’s fallen back asleep. When she’s thoroughly asleep, I ease up and decide to take the dogs out to get them a little bit of exercise before heading to the kitchen to make us some breakfast. 

Emma saunters downstairs about two hours later seeming more well rested as I’ve got her breakfast plated up. She kisses on the dogs who are eagerly corralling around her legs before walking over to me and kissing me tenderly. 

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Anything for you, sweet darlin’.” I wink over my coffee cup as Emma fills her cup and adds her creamer.

Emma glances at her phone with an inquisitive look. 

“Everything alright?” I ask.

“Yeah, I just was checking my security cameras. I think the Rodriguez family across the street from me got their teenager a car. It’s been parked out in the street across from the house all day yesterday. I knew he must be close to driving age. It just turned around in my driveway so I got a notification on my phone. That’s all.” She says nonchalantly and I nod at her assumption.

“What should we do today?” I ask her as we eat.

“Maybe go to the grocery store? I figured I could go ahead and meal prep for the week. I also need to get the ingredients to make banana pudding for your Nana and PawPaw’s house.”

“Sugar, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.” I start but Emma shakes her head.

“No, when we talked last week I told her that I wouldn’t mind bringing dessert.” I just about choke on my bacon.

“She called you?” I ask and Emma blushes.

“She did. Is that okay?” 

“Of course, that’s more than fine… I just don’t want her bothering you. She’s a bit of a handful if you know what I mean. I didn’t even realize she got your number.”

“Well, she told me not to tell you because you would ‘whine about her interfering’, but she called the vet clinic and got in touch with me there. She said she wanted to make sure I was joining y’all for lunch Sunday, and then wanted my mom’s number so they could keep in touch.”

“That woman.” I shake my head incredulously. 

“I ask her to not interfere, and she goes around calling you and your family. Good grief.” I chuckle at the audacity of Nana. She’s going to get her way no matter what. She’s never gone to these extremes to contact anyone I’ve dated though, so maybe it’s a good thing.

Emma giggles.

“I think it’s sweet. Anyway, we got to talking about her cooking and I offered to make dessert. If that’s okay with you, let’s go ahead and go to the store after breakfast.” 

“I’ll do anything you want me too, Sugar.” 

We eat and chat a bit before Emma changes clothes and starts gathering her items to head to the store. I head upstairs and throw on some different clothes as well before we load up and head to the store. 

When we get there, I’m in charge of the buggy. Emma has a list on her phone of all the items she needs to get, so I just follow her with the cart as she gathers her items. I also add a few of my own favorites as we are traversing the aisles, such as chips and beef jerky.

Once we’ve got everything on our list, we head to the checkout and I insist again on paying. Emma crosses her arms, jutting out her hip with a scowl that I can’t help but chuckle at. She’s like an angry kitten and I just want to kiss all over her face, so I do. After we pay, we make our way out the doors.

“By the way, you said you wanted steaks one night this week. Did you remember to put those in the cart?” 

“Shit, I totally forgot. Here,” I hand Emma my truck keys. “Let me run back and grab some while you put the groceries in the truck?” I ask and Emma nods. I kiss her forehead before jogging back in the store to collect and purchase the forgotten steaks. 

I skip the small talk with the cashier and head straight for the self-check out so that I hopefully don’t keep Emma waiting too long. After buying our main dinner entrée, I head outside toward my large grey truck, with Syverson Contracting Inc. embossed along the side. Emma must’ve loaded the groceries quickly as I don't see her. I walk over and notice she’s not in the passenger seat before I hear her scream.

“LET GO OF ME!” I drop the bag and turn to look for her. About 30 yards away, I spot someone I recognize. Then it dawns on me who it is. 

Colin.

Part 14

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

Author's Note: Ya girl's struggling with a sinus infection right now but I was able to finally get this posted! Had an ultrasound today and baby was healthy and active so I am happy!

[skateordiebitch]

hiii! i love ur fics sm.. don’t stop making them. i honestly just wanted to request something about being best friends with dom, nothing weird at all. but he’s always there for reader and stuff, they’re close and childhood friends :)

IDIOT || D.F. x reader

summary: dominic fike, your childhood best friend; part time 'crisis manager'. full time idiot.

a/n: thank you sm! i don't plan on stopping, don't worry LMFAO. this request made my heart so happy. this reminded me so much of my best friend, who i'm away from rn :') miss him dearly so this was very nice to write!!! hope u guys enjoy!! <33

It was 2 a.m., and you were curled up on your living room couch, a half-eaten pint of ice cream in your lap, your favorite bad movie playing softly in the background. 

The door to your apartment swung open without warning, and Dominic strolled in, his hair sticking out in every direction, still wearing his pajama pants and a hoodie.

“Dom!” you said, startled but not entirely surprised. “Geez, ever heard of knocking?”

He dropped onto the couch beside you with zero hesitation, stealing the pint from your hands and taking a spoonful. “And miss the element of surprise? Never. I have a key for a reason.”

You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “You look like shit. What are you even doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“You texted me, remember?” he said, wiggling his phone in front of you. “Something about an emotional crisis and needing someone to comfort you.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Dude, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. I was just venting.”

Dominic grinned. “And yet, here I am. Lucky for you, I’m an excellent crisis manager.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.

That was Dominic: always there, no questions asked, no matter the time or place. You’d been inseparable since you were kids—sharing snacks in kindergarten, passing notes in middle school, and now, navigating adulthood together.

“Okay, crisis manager,” you said, reclaiming the ice cream. “Fix me. Please.”

“What happened?” he asked, his expression softening as he turned to face you fully. 

“It’s just…” You hesitated, toying with the edge of your blanket. “I’ve been feeling kind of stuck lately. Like, everyone’s moving on and doing amazing things, getting into relationships, and I’m just… here.”

Dominic’s brow furrowed. “Are you kidding? You’re like, one of the smartest, most talented people I know. And trust me, I know a lot of people.”

You snorted. “Yeah, okay. You’re only saying that because you’re my best friend. You basically have to tell me that.”

“I’m serious,” he said, nudging your shoulder. “Remember in high school when you built that entire art project out of soda cans and won first place? Or when you aced that internship interview because you quoted your favorite movie? You’re like, actually capable of doing things.”

“Dominic, that was years ago,” you said, laughing despite yourself, “And what about relationships? All of my friends keep shoving their boyfriends in my face, and it’s making me wanna download Hinge, again.”

Dominic leaned back, his head resting against the couch as he let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh God, you’re single. The horror.”

“Shut up,” you said, throwing a pillow at him, which he easily caught. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he replied, tossing the pillow aside. “Why are you stressing about this? Being single isn’t some kind of failure. You’re not competing with anyone.”

“I know that, logically,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “But it feels like… I don’t know, like everyone else is figuring shit out, and I’m just here eating ice cream at midnight with my idiot best friend.”

“First of all, rude,” Dominic said, pointing at himself. “I am a delightful idiot, and I’m sure many girls would kill to be in your place… Thank you very much. Second, that’s a load of crap.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What is?”

“This idea that you’re ‘falling behind,’” he said, sitting up straighter. “Everyone moves at their own pace. Just because your friends are in relationships doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be. Maybe you’re single because you haven’t met someone who deserves you yet.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s such a cliché, Dom, really. You should write a book or something.”

“Yeah, well, clichés are clichés for a reason,” he shot back. “Look, you’ve got standards—and you should. You’re smart, funny, kind, and, despite everything, pretty tolerable to be around.”

“Aw, thanks, Dom,” you said with mock sarcasm. “Such a glowing review.”

“I’m serious,” he said, nudging your knee with his. “You’re a catch. And the right person’s gonna see that without you having to bend over backward to prove it. You just have to stop beating yourself up for not settling.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how earnest he sounded. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, shrugging. “And I’m always right. Ask anyone.”

You rolled your eyes but felt a warmth spreading in your chest. Dominic always knew how to say the right thing, even when you didn’t want to hear it. 

“So, what? I’m just supposed to wait for some magical person to show up and sweep me off my feet?”

Dominic smirked. “Nah, I think you should keep doing you. Focus on what makes you happy. And when the right person shows up, you’ll know. Until then, you’ve got me to watch crappy movies and steal your snacks. Don’t download a fucking dating app.”

“Lucky me,” you teased, but the smile on your face was genuine. “Thanks, Dom. I needed that.”

He gave you a playful salute.

“Anytime,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Besides, if you ever really get stuck, I’ll just carry you around and tell everyone you’re my much cooler best friend.”

“Obviously,” you said, leaning into him. “That’s been the plan all along.”

The two of you sat there for a while, the weight of your worries easing with each ridiculous comment he made. 

Dominic had always been your rock, the one constant in your constantly changing world.  

“Move over, loser. You’re hogging the blanket,” you grumbled, nudging Dominic with your foot as he sprawled across your couch like he owned the place. 

“Excuse me?” Dominic shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You invited me over, remember? You’re lucky I’m even sharing my popcorn.”

You grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl on his lap without breaking eye contact. “Your popcorn? You wouldn’t even have it if I didn’t buy it. Idiot.”

Dominic gasped in mock offense. “Wow, okay. Name-calling? Really mature, Y/N. What are we, twelve?”

“Pretty sure you were worse when we were twelve,” you shot back, grinning. 

“Fair point,” he admitted, tossing a piece of popcorn at you. It bounced off your forehead, and he burst out laughing.

You retaliated by throwing one back, but it went wildly off course, landing somewhere on the floor. 

Dominic shook his head, feigning disappointment. “Terrible aim. No wonder you didn’t make the basketball team in middle school.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, snatching the blanket and draping it over yourself, leaving him with only a corner. “I made the team, thank you very much. I just quit.”

“Yeah, after you tripped over your own shoelaces and—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” you warned, though you were already laughing too hard to sound threatening. 

Dominic chuckled, pulling the blanket back over his lap as the opening credits of your favorite movie played on the screen. “Alright, fine. Let’s watch this masterpiece you’ve been hyping up for weeks.”

“Don’t act like it’s your first time watching it,” you teased. “You’ve seen this at least five times with me. You even cried during the ending last time.”

“I did not cry,” Dominic protested, though his face betrayed him with the slightest blush. “I had something in my eye.”

“Sure you did,” you said, rolling your eyes but grinning. “Big ass tears that would’ve scared all the girls away.”

He grabbed a pillow and lightly bopped you on the head. “Keep talking, and I’ll ruin the ending for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Try me.”

You lunged for the pillow, laughing as he held it out of reach. The two of you wrestled for it for a moment, the blanket and popcorn long forgotten, before collapsing back onto the couch in a heap of giggles.

Once you both settled down, Dominic leaned back, his arm resting casually along the back of the couch. “You know, this is why we’re best friends.”

“Because you like losing pillow fights to me?” you teased.

“No,” he said, flicking your arm. “Because you’re the only person I know who can call me an idiot and make it sound like a compliment.”

You smirked, nudging him with your shoulder. “Well, you’re my favorite idiot. Don’t forget it.”

He grinned, his gaze softening for just a moment before he turned back to the screen. “Alright, let’s watch this thing. No more distractions.”

The two of you sat there, sharing popcorn, laughing at the same jokes you’d heard a hundred times, and tossing the occasional insult back and forth. 

It was the kind of night that reminded you why Dominic was your best friend—because no matter how chaotic or ridiculous things got, you always knew you could count on him to be there, making life a little less serious and a whole lot more fun. 

[call-sign-shark]

Shark in the UK 🦈

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Hi everyone,

As you might have noticed I was pretty silent since my arrival in the UK. I must admit that I have been through a lot of stress and changes in a very short amount of time and it's only now that I'm finally getting used to this new situation. Below you'll find a detailed post of my adventures so far, so if you are not interested you can simply ignore this and just keep in mind that I'll be returning to my posting schedule and fan-fictions very soon. For those who are curious, fasten your motherfucking seat-belts.

While I'm not an organized person I become one when I have something important planned so I was so well prepared for this journey that I was convinced I was safe from any misadventures... How wrong I was. I was barely done with the security controls at the airport when I realized they literally broke my phone's screen. I don't know if they bumped it or not but they broke it. The same phone in which I had my boarding pass. It obviously happened the only time I didn't print my plane tickets as I usually do. :) Fortunately, my best friend had lent me his old iPhone minutes before "just in case". I managed to airdrop my boarding pass on the second phone and took the plane without trouble despite the flight being delayed by one hour.

Upon my arrival in UK, I took a taxi to the hotel and had a nice time alone. I brought myself to the restaurant and peacefully slept, getting psychologically ready to meet my host family, and oh boy. This is... Something.

When I heard the word "host family" I imagined it to be an actual family, and a bit like when you're an au pair. Retrospectively, it's completely stupid because it was never written but idk my mind went full "ok I'll live with a local family". What a surprise it was when I knocked at the door and was welcomed by one lonely man and the very acrid smell of cigarettes that jumped at my face! While my host dad (@rysko @red-riding-wood @kittenonpluto pimp nickname they said) was extremely nice and welcoming, the more he showed me around the more my face dropped. I wasn't going to spend months in a local family but in an old house more or less laid out like a hostel. A hostel with a strong cigarette smell almost everywhere, five other girls, one dude, and dirt. The differences between my expectations and reality were huge and, as you can imagine, the pill was difficult to swallow. I swear when he opened the door I was this close to run away lmao.

Between my accommodations and the new rhythm of the international school I'm studying in, my mind went completely foggy for a few days. I didn't know what to think or what to feel anymore. Worse, I didn't know if my money was well-spent or if I just got scammed. Now, read what follows before you call me "ungrateful" or "princess-like".

It’s not what I got that made me feel bad, but rather the stupid and nonsensical expectations I had in mind. Then, I slowly realized that it wasn't because I hadn't expected it and that it couldn't be fun. Maybe it had a lot to do with how nice the five other girls and the people at my school are, but I started // I am starting to really enjoy it. The house might be old and not "that clean" (or at least not as clean as I'm used to), but the host dad is lovely, cooks for us every day, we have fast wifi, are close to the school, we have a key and are free to come and go as much as we want without a curfew, and the bedrooms, as well as the toilets, are clean. To be honest, some students have it really worse. I mean, I'm talking about students having to sleep in a room crowded with 7 people, or having to sleep on a mattress on the ground, the host family asking them to buy and cook their own food to the extent of some even locked the kitchen's door at night to avoid the student snacking/stealing food at night. Or students who are on 1 hour of bus-trip long from the school — those conditions I find absolutely disgusting for the extremely expensive price the students have to pay for this language exchange. With everything said, I consider myself lucky despite the cigarette smell and the "clean but not really clean" house.

As I'm writing this, it's Saturday 10 am and I can finally say it: I'm happy to be here, it's a one-life experience and I'm incredibly lucky my parents offered it to me. Unfortunately, I've caught a very bad cold and I've been sick since Wednesday: I think the combination of my emotional rollercoaster, the crazy British weather, my fatigue and half of my classroom being sick have finished me off. Now I can't wait to get better to start attending to a shitton of activities, planning trips around, and going to the pub. Also, I've got my nails done! Look at my freakin' sharp claws teehee.

Congratulations if you're still there by the way, lmao! Thank you for reading my nonsense. I'll be back very soon, both for writing and commenting, just wait for my cold to get better!

Love,

Shark.

tagging some moots: @zablife @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @peakyltd

[teasandcardigans]

the fail of imperium sweetheart

you asked for it, and its here! i got a little carried away with this, but i hope you all enjoy! a full analysis on the imperium’s most dismissed character, sweetheart

please keep in mind this is my own opinion, and i am not expressing hate towards erik. i think the amount of work he does to produce quality content is something that deserves respect and acknowledgement. with that said, i do also feel like i can share my own thoughts on the subject:

edit: tumblr formatted this poorly so if you would like to read it via notion, click here.

Imperium 2021 Runtime (Not including: Welcome to the Imperium, Your Place Among Magic, Welcome Back): 2 hours, 57 minutes, 48 seconds

Cataclysm 2022 Runtime: 5 hours, 21 minutes, 45 seconds

Combined Working Runtime: 8 hours 19 minutes, 33 seconds

(This is the amount of content I scanned to compile my list of quotes and opinions on this piece. I chose these videos specifically because they are the videos that realistically could have featured Sweetheart at any time.)

first mention: Audio RP | Caught By a Cruel Werewolf Pack

[01:14] “You really think that there wasn’t any kind of security at an academy office? Those enforcer goons aren't the only ones keeping shit in line around here. You weren't the only one in that room, you know. My mate’s a stealth. They watched you every step of the way, trailed you, and once you actually pulled those files, they sounded the alarm for all the rest of us. They hung back to see if you were just some kind of distraction for somebody else to do the real dirty work, but apparently, it really was just you.” 

some things to unpack here:

milo’s line implies the level of trust the pack has with sweetheart— they have been with the pack long enough to be trusted to run security in an academy office all alone and be the alarm for the rest of the pack. i think their character speaks for themselves when milo reveals that they hung back to see if there was more than what met the eye- showing that they care about the work they are doing with the pack, too.

another takeaway i have from this is that sweetheart doesn’t work for the department in the imperium. the “why” for that is not really given, but if imperium sweetheart is enough like the redactedverse’s canon version of them, then i think that could easily be implied that sweetheart would be too much of a workaholic to be able to balance working with the pack and the department. i wish that we could know more about sweetheart’s backstory in the imperium. this cannot even fall under the argument of trying to allow for a neutral listener with an open backstory for audiences to collectively connect to, as backstories are given to listener characters such as freelancer, angel, and baby.

[03:50] “That is not how that fucking went down, you clout-chasing peon. My mate was cloaked, guarding the building, and saw this human trying to steal some records and shit and tagged them.”

my takeaway from this quote is that it again illustrates the level of trust the pack has in sweetheart. they are- at least i inferred this- alone, guarding an important building with classified academy documents. asher, with his present no- nonsense attitude, would not put something like that up to chance. to appoint sweetheart to guard that building is a demonstration of wholehearted trust.

note: i’d like to take a moment to draw attention to the fact that the first actual appearance of sweetheart we get is literally the third to last video before the cataclysm finale, despite the fact they played a key role in the original imperium series- that role being sounding the alarm on imperium-babe and connecting them to asher, which inadvertently ties the shaw pack to avior and the haven’s plans to overpower the department. let’s just appreciate that for a second. erik- whether he meant to or not- made sweetheart a key player in this series, and yet, we don’t actually get to see them interacting with anyone until the very, very end. this section is analyzed a bit out of order so that i can avoid redundancy in expressing my opinions. please refer to time stamps!

first interaction: Cataclysm | Tantum Tyrannus [Audio RP]

[00:00 to 06:14] Sweetheart finds Asher unconscious, and Milo gone. Together, they figure out what Milo’s plan is and derive one of their own to save him. 6 minutes, 14 seconds.

all of these together exemplify the level of protectiveness and love that milo and sweetheart have for each other. it’s no secret that the two care very deeply for one another, canon timeline or not, but i think these quotes all show how sweetheart and milo will do anything to keep the other safe. the first quote at 01:15, to me, feels like a defensive retort after sweetheart possibly accuses asher of sending milo to face alexis alone- their protective instincts raise up in an effort to defend milo against anyone who tries to put him in harm’s way. it’s dismissed by asher of course, who explains that he was planning to go, but overall, each of these quotes make me crave a better insight into their relationship.

[01:15] “I wouldn’t let him do that.”

[01:38] “No, you are not coming.”

[04:12] “He wouldn’t want you to be in harm’s way. You know that.”

[02:52] “You know him. Better than any of us.”

this to me speaks to how deeply sweetheart and milo are involved. canon timeline or imperium, i think it’s safe to say that a mate’s bond is the deepest connection one can have with another person (maybe rivaled by a progeny-maker bond), so it’s so strange to me that couples such as vega and pet, vindemiator and freelancer, and avior and starlight get more “screentime” than sweetheart and milo. i know some of those pairs mentioned above are fan favorites, and erik was likely trying to give content that fans would enjoy, but i feel that his oversight on milo and sweetheart’s relationship- one that has existed longer than any other imperium relationship, mind you*- left a lot of blank spots into the true nature of their friendship and relationship that i would have love to have seen. in fact, i believe we know how every imperium relationship came to be except for milo and sweetheart.**

*milo and sweetheart were mates before Audio RP | Caught By a Cruel Werewolf Pack, as seen in milo’s comment about them stalking babe in the office. the aforementioned couples all supposedly got together in the months spanning between october 2021 and october 2022.

[04:46] “I would have given anything to have been at David’s side during that fight. All right. Come on.”

**vindemiator and freelancer: escaping the slicers and arriving at the academy together

vega and pet: pet is a feeding volunteer at the haven

starlight and avior: work companions growing into more

damien and angel: childhood friends turned lovers

asher and david: packmates turned lovers

you will see soon, i have a lot to say about david and asher. but i think that since their relationship is in the spotlight of cataclysm so much, this comment stands out to me. it gives sweetheart and milo’s relationship the same weight as david and asher’s- a weight that erik has been trying to demonstrate throughout this entire second trip to the imperium. it’s implied to me with this line that sweetheart draws a direct comparison from david to milo and asher acknowledges it, which begs the question: why is a non- existent relationship (rip david we love you) receiving more attention and screen time than one that exists and appears to have equal value?

[06:04] “We have to make the first hit count. Or we won’t get a second one.” 

i have to laugh at this one. it’s somewhat silly to me considering the fact that this line makes the fight scene feels so much bigger than what it actually turns out to be. that’s all.

second appearance: Cataclysm | Tantum Tyrannus [Audio RP]

[10:02 - 15:37] Asher and Sweetheart arrive at Alexis’s estate to save Milo. 5 minutes, 39 seconds.

i elected not to pull any quotes from this section purely for the fact that sweetheart’s interactions are truly limited. this scene mostly focuses on a facedown between asher and alexis, where sweetheart- and even milo, really (despite him being the reason they are there)- feel very much like background characters. this is about asher, getting revenge, for david. and yes, maybe a little bit to help save the world, but mostly, cataclysm is an asher-focused storyline. the most we get from sweetheart in this scene is asher talking to them in the beginning, and at the end. oh, yeah, they also helped stun and debilitate alexis so that asher could take her down. no biggie, right?

another spot for consideration: Cataclysm | Last Wish [Audio RP] 

Asher and Milo discuss the confrontation with Alexis as Milo heals.

personally, i find this choice to make sweetheart conveniently in another room making food as another way to eventually lead the conversation back to david and asher’s guilt. it is obvious that asher is trying to be the cold, hard, gruff alpha that he thinks he needs to be in order to prove his worth to the shaw pack as their leader. i don’t think in this side of the mirror asher would be too keen on being vulnerable and emotional around sweetheart about david, so erik removed sweetheart from the scene so we can, once again, focus on asher and david. (insert dramatic sigh here).

[01:48] “I figured your mate would be here.”

“They’re making some food, they should be back soon. I had to kick them out to keep them from fussing off of me and from reading me the absolute riot act doing this without telling them.”

[02:39] “They did good. I don't think I could have done that without them.”

i find this comment to be extremely ironic, as seen with my thoughts on the fight scene itself. asher commends sweetheart here and says how vital they were to the plan, but in reality, they felt like a minor character. they had one scene where they could have shown their strength and flex their skills- as we know they can (i.e. canon-timeline shade fight, canon-timeline apartment “break-ins,” and imperium-verse security detail in their first mention) and yet, their involvement in that scene feels small and overlooked.

third appearance: Cataclysm | Last Wish [Audio RP]

[15:41 - 16:14] Literally, Sweetheart comes, Asher goes. 33 seconds.

there’s not even anything to really analyze here. as soon as the focus pulls away from asher talking about himself and/or david, the scene ends. this is sweetheart and milo’s last appearance.

my overall thoughts:

of the 8 hours, 19 minutes, and 33 seconds that the imperium and cataclysm stories ran, sweetheart appeared in 12 minutes and 26 seconds of them (for those of you who like math, it’s 2.5% out of the full running time). for the importance of sweetheart’s role, that being the whistleblower on babe (and the ripple effect it had) and one of the key players in taking down alexis, i find their lack of appearance and mention disappointing. we all know how strong sweetheart is in both sides of the mirror, and i feel that they had much more potential as a character. from their relationship with milo, to their unexplained involvement with the Shaw Pack, there are a lot of gaps within their story that deserve recognition. even minor characters, such a baby and alexis, have more backstory and character development than sweetheart. i could go down a rabbit trail of how this could also be seen in inversion, but that is for a later date. in this analysis, i want to draw attention to the fact that so much time was dedicated to a relationship that we never even see, and another that sprung up over the break between “seasons.” asher and vega’s storylines are interesting and a far cry from their canon versions, but their importance feels dominating, and in the case of asher and david’s, exhausting. i’m not saying that even sweetheart and milo’s relationship deserved the spotlight, but i believe it would have been a more fulfilling, complex story if we had been able to see the moments with the two of them the way we get to see vega’s and vindemiator’s (the same goes for giving more explanation and attention to damien and angel’s, too). i’ll cut the novel short and end things with the hope that you, my lovely reader, can see how sweetheart’s potential as a character was diminished and pushed to the background when it could have been a unique and interesting piece to the imperium’s overall story.

[rcksmith]

Dream a little of me — Kaz Brekker

Resume: One bed and two hearts.

Requests :”Hello, darling! Could I request sleeping with kaz? Imagine or general headcanons, as you like. No nsfw (no need of touching tho, do what you like with it!), just sleeping in the same bed - maybe for the first time. Also bonus points if one of them will have a nightmare👀Have a good night/day, hun!🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️✨✨✨💗💗💗”

“My heart asks for all the angst of touch starved reader falling for Kaz Brekker... 😭😭😭 - 🐕‍🦺”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Grisha Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of post-traumatic stress, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3k.

A/N: Thank you💖 I hope you guys like.

Normal Rules.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake. Requests are open. Love you❤️

— — — — —

The rain was pouring down in torrents, in a fierce storm that roared into the shadowy forest like a hideous, unearthly animal. Platinum lightning’s streaked the midnight sky and thunder rumbled like as giants footsteps crashing into the ground and shaking the earth. Everything had been orchestrated to work. But nothing could have gone more wrong.

Unfortunately, not even Kaz Brekker's millions of tricks and plans could defeat the force of nature. And even you, an Infernal Entherealki, hadn't mastered the art of controlling fire or keeping warm while under a torrent of icy, biting cold water.

Your teeth started chattering, your lips turned purple, and you wondered if you could run another inch. Your muscles felt like stones and for someone who had lived with the heat of the flames his whole life, being under freezing water was extremely painful. But Kaz wouldn't let you stop. And you, as excruciating as the pain was, didn't want to stop either. The pain was strong but the desire not to let him down was more.

The two of you part of the plan that night was to go through the forest with the diamonds in pockets and find the rest of the Crows on the other side. You two would have to spend the night in that place. But all of Brekker's machinations were washed away by the treacherous and atrocious rain.

The only alternative was to run. Run to the direction where there was a small civilization and pray to find an inn or not die of hypothermia.

The angry drops of icy water were enough to steal Kaz's breath. Not because the cold was unbearable, but because his own demons, his past, were ghosts that gripped his ankles like monsters from horror stories. He didn't feel the rain, didn't feel the biting wind, Kaz just felt the sensation of the freezing, oppressive ocean drowning him. And for a second, when he looked at the small strip of fur on he wrist that wasn't hidden by his glove and coat, he swore he saw Jordie's dead skin in place of his.

He had to get out of there. But when the storm started, and Kaz run his eyes at you, your face wet from the rain, your skin constantly whipped by the cold droplets, and your cheeks extremely red from the cold, it made him gasp in a very different way. Blood pooled in your cheeks. Pulsing. Alive. He had to get you out of there.

Finding hiding places was one of his specialties, and he focused his mind entirely on it. When an inn came into view, a small relief rumbled in both of you. And Kaz looked in your direction to make sure you were okay. Alive.

As the receptionist gave the key from the last spare room to the two of you, Kaz couldn't help but feel that there was no longer any heat pulsing in your body. That made him feel miserable.

The night was cold. Unusually cool for the time of year.

"I don't think it's a good idea to carry out a robbery like that in these climatic temperatures." Inej said, walking down the stairs after Kaz "One of the Dregs caught a serious cold too while you were away."

Kaz had to be away for two days to sort out some matters of his own. Check some ship ports and finding out the weaknesses of some new merchants. And as much as he ordered his thoughts to focus solely on that purpose, he found himself daydreaming at certain times about…

"It got very serious after a few hours." Inej completed.

Kaz felt a trickle of worry trace his veins, tighten his throat But it wasn't for some bruteman of his Dregs. His source of concern was more serious, deeper, and for someone he didn't want to think about too much. Even though he told himself to keep every nerve in his body under control, in the end he was Kaz Brekker, he couldn't help but notice he picked up his pace to get faster to the live room that was strictly reserved for the Crows.

And when he walked in, following by Inej, the tree branches hit the windows, blown by the wind, tinkling. The cold was oppressive and biting, but not enough to stop Jesper from playing cards with Wylan, nor enough for Nina not to eat her candy and listen to Matthias tell of his people's legends. But the eyes of Kaz, that treacherous and treacherous organ, ran to you first. Magnetically, inevitably.

And he felt like he could breathe again.

The sight of you sitting on the black velvet sofa, with a book in your hands and your legs stretched out on the padded stool in front of you, calmed Kaz's heartbeat as nothing had ever done.

As much as he denies, in those two days his mind has swarmed over you more often than he thought wise. Brekker liked to justify that action with the fact that you were part of the gang. As close and important as Jesper or Inej. It was normal for him to be worried about the Dregs.

But why did he only see you? Why did the questions about your well-being and comfort stood out so much from any other concerns with others?

It was you. Always late at night, when Brekker was a sigh away from sleep. You were what someone he was thinking.

"Who is alive always appears." Nina announced he arrival and Kaz was pulled out of his reverie.

"Did you kill anyone these two days?" Jesper placed a letter on the table and Inej sat beside Nina.

Kaz left his hat on one of the dark marble tables. “Does it matter?"

There were other seats available in the room. A leather armchair next to the burning fireplace - Brekker were sure that you was controlling the temperature - an extra chair around the table where Jesper and Wylan were play, and a small divan beside Matthias. But Kaz sat beside you on the couch.

You marked the page with your finger, lowering the book gently. He didn't need to see the cover to know what it was. It was a romance clichéd eighteenth-century. He had given it to you before he left.

"Everything worked?" You smiled and Kaz had the feeling that he wanted to memorize that smile in a painting to always appreciate it.

"And doesn't always do?"

Even with the biting cold that wasn't stopped by the fireplace, Brekker could feel the heat from your body emanating, like a delicious temptation. You were always so hot. Bathed in the sun's rays. He didn't know if infernal grisha like you gave off so much heat too, because it was impossible for that to be human. Were so intense...delicious. Even with multiple layers of clothing, if Kaz approached you he could feel the warmth of a tropical pirate island.

Was that why he always unconsciously sat beside you? Why did you radiate so much causticity that it made Kaz forget about the ocean's cold? Why were you like a piece of life and Kaz felt dead for a long time?

Or was it because, heat or not, you were the only thing worth being around?

All the questions were too disturbing. And Kaz Brekker didn't want to know the answer.

Now, even climbing the stairs to the room beside you, Kaz couldn't feel anything radiating from you body. Just the cold. And he hated it with every force of his being.

You're not made to take the rain, felling deadly cold, or turn your lips a bluish hue.You were not made to be cold as a corpse, with muscles stiff and sore like a dead. You were not made to look like Jordie. You were meant to be alive. To look alive. Exhale the heat of the most ardent fire and heat a room just with your presence. You were meant to scare off Kaz's winter with your summer.

For a second, Kaz wanted to hug you to give you the warmth of his own body.

You felt exhausted. The remnants of what you once day were. Every inch of your body protested, aching and tearing at muscles. The cold, sharp water did you no good. You didn't know if it was were something of your species or a trait unique to you. But it didn't do any good to you. You hated looking so miserable in that appearance, especially in front of the one man you always wanted to look beautiful to. But at that moment you were in too much pain to worry so much about it.

As soon as Kaz had put the key in the doorknob, his gloved fingers stiff from the cold, what you expected to find was a cozy room, promising a heat shower and a good, well-deserved night's sleep. But that wasn't it. You stared at the wide double bed with white sheets, perplexed. Shock competed with your pain and put your brain to work, and all your breath lurked in throat as your realized the situation.

Oh my fucking God.

You didn't have to look at Kaz to feel his entire body be rigid, in a way far more potent than the effects the rain had caused. As if the prospect of sleeping next to you was more whorse than dying of hypothermia.

You closed your expression. Half because your mood was already bad and half because the rejection was brutal. You didn't expect your passionate feelings for Kaz to be returned, nor did you expect him to feel the same longing to be close to you as you felt for him. But no woman wanted to see that a man would rather die of hypothermia than share a bed with her. Even more if he was a man she was in love with.

You entered in room first, the pain in your body clouding your thoughts.

"Do you mind if I shower first?"

Your voice was weak, and you didn't have the heart to look at Kaz. He hissed a “no” that hung in the air, and that was the last thing you heard before closing yourself in the bathroom.

His heart was beating eerily fast in his chest. As loud as the thunder outside and as unsettling as the chill of rain. His breath began to burn heavily in his throat, and suddenly his entire body was fully aware of the situation.

One bed.

Even when he took the diamonds out of his pocket and placed them on a small table, even when you came out of the bathroom and he walked in, even as he basked in the hot water, his heart still pounded wildly. Like a generator.

Kaz Brekker liked puzzles, challenges. Of things he could unravel and understand. Piece by piece. He played to win and to cheat, and the world knelt at his feet before the insight of his mind. Still, he didn't know what to do. You were like a fascinating and maddening riddle. The one thing that, no matter how hard Kaz tried, could never unravel yours mysteries. Or maybe, just, what he would never be able to do was unravel what he felling whenever he was by your side.

His heartbeat grew stronger.

Brekker remembered every deck of cards, every card played. He could keep up with the distribution of up to five decks, unlock any lock, and devise the most insane plans. But he couldn't stop the way his soul trembled whenever he laid eyes on you.

In those moments, when you looked at Kaz like he was someone much better than he actually was, Kaz wanted to be good. He wanted to be born again to become a damn decent man. For you. He wished he didn't have his demons and erase his past. Because that way, when the sun's rays hit your face and you were close enough for your scent of happiness to flood his senses, Kaz wouldn't back down. He would lean down and seal his lips in yours with the promise of a glorious future.

His heart beat faster.

Why did he feel that his whole life was always suspended whenever he were away from you? And why did he have the feeling his life could change forever if he walked out that door?

Kaz turned off the shower. The heart running like a horse. He fished out the towel and wrapped it around his waist, finding a small hamper that held neat, folded pajamas for guests. He was surprised he didn't notice you in those pajamas. You made him lose focus.

As soon as he dressed and walked out of the bathroom, his eyes immediately went to your figure. Sitting on the bed, your legs under the covers, your hands clasped together in a cupped shape with a small, flare of fire burning in the center.

You looked up at Kaz. “I managed to do something to warm you up.”

The phrase was: No for warm me up. No for warm us up. For warm you up.

Kaz lost his breath and his soul trembled. The air felt different since he stepped out of the shower, not just from the recent gust of heat. But there was something else, something lyrical, pink and lush. Something...beautiful. He did not say anything. First because he didn't trust his own words and second because he didn't know what to say. He sat beside you, a considerable distance away, but this time his fear was that you would hear the loud, racing beat of his heart.

You turned gently towards him, reaching out your hands towards him, not noticing how his hands trembled as they stretched under the hot flame. Kaz swallowed hard.

He knew how weak and drained you were, but he also knew you were aware that he loathed cold. Hated icy water. You didn't know the depth of his traumas, but the fact that you cared to the point that you were willing to use your last shred of strength to end his torment was something that reverberated in his soul.

You two didn't say anything else after that. After Kaz removed his hands from the flame, you understood that as the end of your two interactions. You two shared a mutual answer that neither would sleep on the floor. You two were adults and in no condition to be lashed by any colder.

The night moon bathed the dark room with lights in distilled silver, almost flickering through the windswept tree branches. You were back-to-back, blankets pulled up to your shoulders, breathing gently quickened. As exhausted as you two were, neither of you could sleep.

Suddenly, the whole atmosphere in room seemed to change. Like a private, enchanted piece of the world. The wind howled softly, on a calm note. The rain was still falling in torrents, but now it seemed to be adopted in a passionate tone. As if it had fulfilled its purpose and now hovered in the world with a romantic veil of water. Stars shining bright above the bedroom window, glittering like hundreds of tiny diamonds, accompanied by moonlight. Although the light was dim, it seemed to capture the lyrical essence, seem to whisper “Dream a little dream of me.”

Everything felt different, like the two of you had entered a rift in the world. A part inhabited romance, pure magic, love.

Your soul shivered, and as much as you could never prove it, you felt that Kaz's soul shivered too. Your breath hitched, burning in lungs, your body seized by a caustic tingle that snaked through every inch.

You didn't know why, but your body shifted gently on the bed, turning slightly towards the ceiling. The racing pulse in your veins. A second felt like an eternity. Kaz's body moved too, and you knew, just knew, that he was looking at the ceiling too.

Two hearts beating in the same time. Synchronized. And, by some magic or deity, you two knew that your heartbeat would never again beat another way. Always connected.

Your body moved a little more, now on belly up. And Kaz's seemed to do the same move, even without seeing you or your movements. His chest rising and falling with intensity. The rain calmed outside, turning the symphony of droplets hitting the roof into mysterious, passionate music. As if the world were plotting a whispering favor for you two.

Kaz could feel your body heat radiating once more, grazing his skin with rays of sunlight. Everything in that bedroom became poignant and intense and lyrical, inflicting sensations on him that Kaz never thought existed before. Later, it would be a shock for him to see that he was at the mercy of his own passions. Overcome by sensations that robbed him of control of his body. Later he would think about it. Later.

His soul tingled, sending gusts of heat from the inside out. The feeling was that, after 28 years of deep sleep, he had awakened. Awake. Alive.

His body moved once more, now completely on belly up. Kaz didn't have to look at you to know that you too had placed yourself in the same position. It was as if he felt the movements of your soul. His pulse was racing now, hot and boiling in his blood. And Kaz wondered if all the money in the world would bring half the sensations he was feeling right now.

What was he so afraid all this time? That question echoed through all the corridors of his soul. And Brekker feared for the answer. What kept him from having everything he craved?

Money? Pekka? Jordie's ghost and the cold ocean? Kaz feared never touching you any more than he feared his demons? Was that why he always walked away from you? Why was wanting to slide his fingers into your hot skin and not being able to fell you, be worse than any sensation he'd ever felt? Because, maybe, admitting it can change everything?

His breath hitched.

Would it be worse to be alone for the rest of his life? Doomed and cursing to a fate of revenge, death and red hate? Or, even worse for his heart, finding a girl with lovely eyes, sunny smiles and the smell of happiness? A girl that made him laugh, come out of his hiding. You. What do he will do with that? What if you open up the door that he can't close it? And If when you hold he and his heart is set in motion?

Would that be so bad? No.

His body became very aware of the approximation it was on to your. Your heat radiating into his. For some reason, Kaz was sure you was in the same condition as he was. Sharing the same feelings. The same passion hidden for so long.

Kaz should have thought of his brother, of revenge against Pekka Rollins, of the cold of the ocean. He should have weighed of his own traumas. Instead, he thought: What if I get a little closer?

The result of this was his fingertips brushing yours. And he knew the exact moment your heart sped up even more. Because his followed the same beat. Maybe following yours for the rest of his life.

You brought your eyes to him, calmly, as if that moment might disintegrate. and the world seemed suspended in that moment. Kaz slid his eyes to you as well, sharing sensations and emotions that didn't need to be put into words. It was all there, in the gaze.

His fingers crept higher, going to your hand, and plunging his touch - and his soul - into that contact. All your heat was too strong. Too intense. Doing Kaz wouldn't be able to think or feel, for the first few minutes, about anything but light, heat, summer and…happiness.

That's when you gave him a shaky, emotional smile. I would do anything for you. That's what that smile said. And Kaz answered, his hand tight with yours before letting go. Me too.

- -

As the sun's rays, shy and buttery, flooded the bedroom in soft color, Kaz's eyelids fluttered. The sound of birds reached his ears, and the scent of flowers and happiness invaded his nose.

It was nothing like waking up in Ketterdam.

That thought back him to reality. A reality in which he had stolen many diamonds, taken the rain and had to share the calm. A reality where Kaz Brekker touched you.

You.

Kaz opened his eyes immediately, his heart racing again. He looked frantically around the room, past the simple furniture, the closed bathroom door, the window where the light came in, and then looked to his side on the bed. That's when he realized what position he was in.

His soul heated up.

You had your back to him, your hair spread out on the white pillow, your back showing by your pajama top, your shoulder rising and falling softly with your resonant breathing. You were close. Very close. And Kaz finds, perplexed, that he is facing you. One arm rests around your waist, over the thick blankets, in an intimate and…romantic gesture.

He lost his breath. His warm, hope-shining soul whispered to him: what if it was like this every day? What if he woke up with you by his side forever? What if in time he learned to be a decent man? Trying to be normal?

Would Kaz do this for you?

You shifted in bed, turning onto his side, front for him, snuggling deeper under his touch and moving closer, as if Kaz were your oasis in the desert. No skin was actually touching, your breath hit his warm chest, and if Kaz lowered his lips even further, he could feel your lips on his.

Yes. He would.

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

Old Wounds - Chapter 9, Wenclair Fanfic

Description: Now aged 22, Wednesday Addams is an up-and-coming author. Her time at Nevermore is well behind her, and she is alone, and that suits her just fine...But when a 'new' neighbour shows up in her apartment building, she'll truly be tested on whether her "bad habit" of caring truly has been broken. (Hint: It hasn't.)  

Pairing: Wednesday Addams / Enid Sinclair

Rating: Teens & Up (subject to change in future)

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x-x-x-x-x-x

The morning that follows Wednesday and Enid’s first official hangout arrives all too quickly. 

Despite what one would think, the evening itself had dragged. Following dinner, Wednesday participated in the routine phone call with her mother, before sharpening every pointed object within the apartment - knives, hatchets, darts, etc, which by all accounts is no small feat. She had hoped time would pass quicker this way, but it still took a few hours of staring into the abyss and day-dreaming of being a corpse in cold storage until it was appropriately late to sleep… And then paradoxically, Wednesday laid herself to rest, closed her eyes for what felt a mere second and morning had come.

So she finds herself laying awake, eyes burning a hole into the ceiling. She has no nightmares to comb through, no…nothing; it isn’t so much torturous as it is brain numbingly dull. Even the idea of torturing Pugsley does little to stir entertainment. 

The only silver lining is the weather outside. From the sounds of the wind whipping past the windows, and the rain against the glass, it is a delightfully dreary day -  the kind of day that requires a tea brewed from flowers deadly to most, and writing. Lots and lots of writing. 

It is perhaps an obvious truth that Wednesday is avoiding thinking about one thing in particular: the pale pink container that sits on her kitchen counter, waiting to be taken back to Enid.  She is aware it must be returned… However, the second she acknowledges it, it will be all she’ll be able to focus on - including the upcoming conversation she is planning with Enid upon its return. This is something Wednesday wants to delay because frankly, she is exhausted by how much of her brain has been occupied recently. 

So… she isn’t thinking about it. She is very actively not thinking about it, in fact. 

As such, Wednesday neglects breakfast during her morning routine, instead choosing to immediately sit at her desk so she can continue to work on her novel. She finds it imperative she continues to write, considering how little progress she has made in the last few days. She catches sight of the torn off page in the trashcan and feels her chest tighten uncomfortably. With an indignant scowl, she tells herself No, she will not let herself be dragged back to that mistake. It is time her narrative moves forward… And with that, she sits down and begins to write. 

The morning continues normally. Wednesday types away, a determined glare affixed her face. To her credit, she writes a great deal of pages that detail the darkest and goriest moments yet to feature in any of her books so far. She’s smiling slightly as she dances her fingers across the keys - A dark, twisted smile that only someone like Wednesday could adorn whilst describing such things. 

It is satisfying, she thinks, to write with such a fervour.

What she writes is similar to the scene she wrote prior - The protagonist and villain of the book at each other’s throats. Though, instead of the stomach lurching romantic twist that entwined them prior, Wednesday has the protagonist gripping the villain’s throat as they mercilessly plunge a knife into the villain’s stomach. There is no tension, no lingering looks, just pure and unadulterated hatred. Wednesday writes from experience, eyes glazing over for just a moment as she pulls herself back to 16 years old and the feeling of a blade stealing her strength. It is evocative. The words that flow onto the page are a perfect portrayal of perfect, beautiful angst… But with it, brings a rush of other unwelcome memories. Tyler, the Hyde…Enid-Wednesday is quick to repress it; she swallows the feelings with a flutter of her eyes and a shaky breath. She will not let herself stumble. Not again. 

Unfortunately, Wednesday’s neglecting of food and water is to neglect the part of humanity she cannot control. As the day sprints forward, she finds herself feeling gutted by the hunger pangs that strike. She grits her teeth and tries to let them pass, but it’s no use. 

She places her most recent page onto the pile of manuscript. She then pushes herself from the desk, defeatedly shuffling into the kitchen to prepare tea and scrape together a meal from what little remains in her fridge. Grocery shopping will have to wait - especially as it's the weekend and there’ll be far too many people for her tastes. 

What now cannot wait is the container that has finally stolen the attention of her gaze. Wednesday glares at it, shoulders dropping slightly. It is just as she had expected.

She feels normal about it, she tells herself. Unenthused. It’s just a box that belongs to Enid. 

Nothing more. 

As she summarised the night before, it is an opportunity - Just as her memories of being brutally stabbed offered her insight for her writing. 

Wednesday chews on some bread that she has lathered with honey. Like most things in the kitchen, this honey was a gift from her mother - having been produced from the poisonous flowers she keeps in the garden back at the family mansion. It is delightfully rich, and a little tingly against the throat. It’s not quite a full meal, but it’s enough to satiate Wednesday as she bores her eyes into the kitchen counter and considers her words for later. 

Though, ‘later’ turns into ‘right now’ as she hears the unmistakable creak of the floorboards above her, indicating Enid’s status. Wednesday checks her phone to find more hours have passed than she expected. It is 11:30am. How convenient.

Wednesday finds eagerness to be a childish quality, but she is certainly full of intent to have this tupperware out of her sight as soon as possible,  and get started on this long-awaited conversation. 

It’s time. 

She grabs the container with a sleeve covered hand, and marches out of her apartment. 

Wednesday makes her way to the stairwell and quickly ascends to the upper floor. It is fortunate Enid’s apartment is directly above, as she needn’t guess which door to knock on. 

She approaches Enid’s door. 

Somehow, Enid opens it before Wednesday is even able to give a single knock. Wednesday is slightly taken aback, and scowls slightly as she meets Enid’s smiling face. 

“Werewolf hearing,” Enid hums, answering the question Wednesday hadn’t even asked, “I heard you from the stairwell. Your shoes are really loud.”

Wednesday looks at Enid blankly. 

“I guess you’re here to give me the tupperware?” Enid asks.

They both look at the box in Wednesday’s hand. 

“Yes. I washed it for you.” Wednesday replies plainly, offering the box back. 

Enid takes it in her hands, giving an appreciative nod. She smiles at Wednesday again, which naturally Wednesday does not return, instead glancing down to avoid eye contact. She frowns slightly in thought. The next step of her investigation must commence. 

“It is not characteristic of me to ask…” Wednesday starts, struggling to sound sincere despite her planning, “But may I come in? I believe we have unfinished business.” 

It feels incredibly unnatural to request such a thing, to the point Wednesday finds herself nearly regretting it - But Enid brightens at the request, her face scrunching in excitement. She glances back at her apartment, giving an expression that’s indicative of …embarrassment? Hesitance?? Wednesday isn’t sure, but Enid seems to wipe it from her face just as quickly, and invites Wednesday inside. 

“Just a warning, it’s a bit of a mess and I’m not exactly dressed properly…” Enid quickly explains as Wednesday steps into the living room. 

Frankly, Wednesday had not noticed Enid’s appearance or attire… but looking at her now, she realises the other woman is dressed in a crop shirt and sweats, her hair lightly styled but clearly tousled from sleep. Enid’s makeup from the day before has not been removed, giving her eyes a slightly gothic look that adds depth to them.  Despite being the vision of a person recently awoken, Wednesday finds herself staring at Enid for a second longer than she should - but she quickly corrects herself, by looking out into the room. She blinks, feeling the slightest heat against her cheeks. Wednesday dictates it to be room temperature, which is much higher than the chilly ambience of her own space downstairs. 

Speaking of space, Enid’s apartment is… different. The layout is evidently altered from Wednesday’s own apartment, with the living room acting as the entrance hall instead of the kitchen. The decoration is nauseatingly bright, but modern and more minimalist than Wednesday would’ve expected. Though…this does not hide the small evidence of Enid’s interests - books messily tucked into a shelf, a gaming system on the coffee table, and what appears to be one of those ear-bleeding kpop groups adorning a framed poster on the wall. 

At a second glance, Wednesday catches a familiar book amongst the shelving: Her own. It lights the smallest spark of enjoyment in her chest to see her work out in the wild - In Enid’s own apartment, no less… but she plays it straight, giving no hint or indication of recognition. It is ironic to think Enid does not know, but it isn’t important for her to find out. Especially not right now, when there are more pressing matters to handle. 

Nonetheless, Wednesday makes a mental note to address it later. 

Enid ushers Wednesday to sit down, and Wednesday perches lightly on the edge of an armchair. She looks uncomfortably at the plush animal that she shares the chair with. Enid quickly snatches it from the space with an apologetic look and rehomes the plushie to a pile of cushions laying in the corner of the room. 

“Sorry- I uh. It’s normally more tidy than this.” Enid says with a half-hearted laugh, “Do you want anything to drink?” 

Wednesday continues to stare at the room’s decor as she adjusts to the bright colours. 

“No, I am afraid anything you offer will make me nauseous, considering the rest of this apartment so far…” She deadpans. 

Enid rolls her eyes as she slumps herself into the couch opposite Wednesday. 

“It’s not that bad, Wends.” 

Wednesday simply offers her a pointed glare. 

Enid breathes out a laugh, “I’ll let you have that one because you brought the tupperware back… But now I get to ask what you wanna talk about?” 

Wednesday clasps her hands together thoughtfully, bringing them to rest on her knees. 

“I am glad you asked.” She replies, a wicked streak flashing through her eyes. 

Finally, Wednesday thinks. The time has come for her to get to the bottom of every question that has been painstakingly plaguing her… and then, she gets the satisfaction of deciding Enid’s fate in her life. Aside from her writing, Wednesday believes this moment will be one of the most gratifying she has experienced in the last few years: to finally have Enid Sinclair pinned - to have herself in control of where they stand.  Though something in her brain tries to gnaw at her, Wednesday shoves it back to the deep recesses it came from. 

She takes a breath. 

“Let me begin by saying that your sudden reappearance in my life has been nothing short of fascinating.” 

Enid smiles at this; albeit she seems puzzled.

Wednesday continues, “But I admit, it has evaded me to this day as to how you ended up here…Considering your family is from the other side of the country,  how did you find this apartment building? Why did you choose to move here?” 

Wednesday lists off her questions one by one. Her tone and face is stoic as ever, and she does little to alter it as Enid’s smile begins to fade. 

She continues again, “More importantly… and, speaking of your family. You have not mentioned them once. I might accept that from someone like our old classmate Bianca, but not you. You’re a werewolf. Where are they?” 

“Wends-” Enid tries to interrupt, her voice but a whisper. Wednesday does not acknowledge it. 

“Finally. Knowing everything that you do and everything I do not… Why do you find it acceptable to let me back into your life, into your apartment? By all accounts, it does not make sense. You’re no idiot, Enid. Neither am I. I want answers.” 

Wednesday finishes her words with a venomous bite. It’s over quickly, but it cannot be understated how deeply it affects the mood of the room. She feels her heartbeat pulsing in her ears, evidence of the adrenaline rush that flushes her system from performing the interrogation. It feels good; powerful, even… but it doesn’t last-

Enid’s face has crumbled, tears pricking at her eyes. She offers nothing but a shaky breath and a helpless opening of her mouth. Her lips tremble as her torn expression turns into something a lot more angered. Upon this, a few tears finally slip down her cheeks. 

Wednesday tightens her jaw. The sight alone shoots a cannon straight at those defences she so carefully rebuilt over the last day, and they weaken, as if built from nothing but paper. It dawns on Wednesday that in her vigour to seek information, to hide from everything and everyone and live within the safety of her own sanctum she had forgotten a truth that follows her to the end of everything: Her guilt truly doesn’t catch up to her until it’s about to swallow her whole.

Wednesday stares at Enid, and she too feels helpless now. She only watches as Enid glares. Anger is not an emotion that sits comfortably on Enid’s face and if her desperation was an ice pick to the eye, then her animosity was a burning pitchfork through the chest. 

Wednesday does her best to not show anything, but finds herself shuffling slightly to break the tension that snakes into her spine. 

And then, the silence breaks. 

“What the fuck, Wendesday.” Enid spits. 

Oh.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Love Sick

Masterlist

Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing

Word Count: 4k

Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.

To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.

So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.

As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand? 

Spencer is positively sick with nerves.

He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.

Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.

Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.

The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.

Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.

Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.

Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.

Showtime.

“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.

Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.

The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.

But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.

“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”

So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.

You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!

Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”

Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.

You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.

The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.

“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”

Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.

With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.

“What about your date?”

You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.  

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”

Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.

--

Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.

He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:

“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.

“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”

Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”

His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.

“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.

“What are we watching?”

You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.

“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.

“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”

His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.” 

He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.

Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.

“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”

Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.

His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.

“How are you feeling, Spence?”

Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better. 

Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0

--

Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.

Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.

Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.

He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”

“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.

“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”

The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”

Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”

A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.

“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s not what you think-”

“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”

“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”

Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”

Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.

“So, you sabotaged the date?”

Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”

Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.

“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”

Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.

He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.

Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.

And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.

“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”

Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.

“You sabotaged my date.”

Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”

You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.

Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.

“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor. 

Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it. 

“Why did you do it?”

Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

“I-I…”

Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done. 

Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”

God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.

“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”

Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.

You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“You like me.” It isn’t a question.

Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Y-Yeah.”

You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.

“Uh, why is that?”

Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.

“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”

Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.

“More than anything.”

“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”

Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.

“You . . . You like me, too?”

You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”

“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.

“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”

“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.

“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going. 

You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”

It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating. 

Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair. 

You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for. 

God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass. 

-

-

-

[sparkbeast20]

Hi! Love your writings! Reaction from both brothers and side characters of Female Gangster MC. Like they just found out

ANS: So, this My first request I ever made. I hope I did you justice with this Anon and also Thank you for the kind words, I'm glad you like my writing <3

If want to send request feel free to send them :3

Warning: Mention of Guns, Blood, Killing, Violence, Taking the fall for someone, and PTSD.

The Brothers and Dateables + (Luke platonic) finding out that F!MC use to be a Gangster

Lucifer

“MC, what’s this” Lucifer points at a scar on her chest, what looks like a stab wound.

“It nothing Lucifer, its just…. It just a remainder not to disobey orders….” She trails off, starting to tear up “it my fault, I got to reckless and almost someone I care about killed” she places a hand on the scar try to keep it together and not show weakness Infront of the Avatar of Pride.

Lucifer slowly took off one of his gloves, and walk closer to MC, and place his hand over hers

“Scars are nothing to be ashamed off, you did it to protect someone you care and….” He places his hand on her chin and lean her head back to met his black and red glance. “Your safe here, you don’t have to worry to go back to that life anymore”

You just the tears fall as your face soft and embrace him, feeling safe knowing that you don’t have hide you past to him.

Mammon

“This all your Mammon!” she angerly whisper in his ear, and groan at her pestering.

“ShHH! Quiet, they’ll hear us human-” then you smack him slightly on the back of his head.

“Whoops, you called me human again”

“Hey! Do you really need to- WAIT there’s a car over there” him point out, and quickly book it to the park vehicle and see that it isn’t lock, however?

“Crap! The key isn’t here” he tries to look around, but quickly push to the passenger, and MC sat the driver sit and open up under the steering wheel.

“Why do I have to do everything around here!” she grabs and cut two wires and start hot wire. In second the car starts up and she buckle her seat belt. “Mams, you guys can survive a car to the face?”

“Yeah…. Why- wait!?! What are you-”

“Buckle yourself in!” She quickly steps on the gas, the demons been chasing them heard the engine, but quickly get hit by the car. As the human and avatar of greed make their escape.

“WHAOOO! I have fun thrill in months” as MC enjoy the adrenaline, Mammon looks over to the human that he was suppose to protect, in amaze and fear. He makes a mental note that Lucifer isn’t the only he shouldn’t just provoke.

Leviathan

“This is impossible!” Levi is struggling with a level from a game from the human world that he just bought, while MC behind him, trying to hold her laughter.

Is a mock version of gang game and Levi, is at the level of the game where to rival gangs are fighting each other for territory?

“You’re focusing on the grunts and not the ones who are hiding from afar- look” she grabs the control from Levi and start playing the level like it was nothing, as she explained how and why he keep dying, all the while Levi is both shock with how MC can play and concern about the implication of how she gotten the knowledge.

“There, now you just have to escape, I never good with car chase, only driving really fast- Huh…. Levi was wrong?”

Levi snap from his train of thought and grab the controller from her, and finishing the level.

“MC, were you-”

“Yeah, but left that behind me.”

Satan

MC and Satan are watch Mammon and Levi being strung up by Lucifer from afar.

“I’m surprise, that you’re not phase about this” Satan asks looking over to her, watching why she not reacting on the display of punishment Infront of her.

“EH… I’ve seen worst”

“Really? What worst then this”

“Being killed-”

“What!?! That’s not punishment!”

“You didn’t let me finish, watching someone being killed Infront of you is worst. It’s a way to learn to obey your boss and survive in world”

She looks on to the demons being strung, while Satan is still letting the information sink in, who know that the human was brought to hell, has already lived in one.

Asmodeus

“I’ve been meaning to asks darling, where did you get your scars?” Asmo asks MC as he and her are taking a bath together.

“Which one?”

“Well…. All of them”

“Ah…. All of them are from fights that I got to”

“Why would you go and get in to fights, you’re to precious” Asmo cooed them move closer and grab her hand, and start scrubbing her arm. She laughs as she is tickled by his action.

“You know, for a bunch of demons. your all nicer than other humans back home” pauses for a moment, by continue with a giggle.

“Well, you don’t have to worry anymore. As long I’m here no one will ever lay a finger on you again” and that’s a promise he made to you and himself.

Beelzebub

“I’m glad you like it Beel” MC made Beel a homemade dish from the human world to calm the hungry demon.

“Its so good, I like your cooking”

“Nah…. You would like Sal’s cooking, he’s the one who taught me how to cook this”

“Maybe, if we go to the human world, you might think he’ll cook for me and my brothers”

“Yeah totally! He loves my friends…...but he can’t”

“Why? Did he leave or something?”

“His at prison, he took the blame for me. And said you should get out of this life….. I guess cooking isn’t the only thing I learn from him” she laughs to hide the fact she misses her mentor.

Beel quickly engulfs her in bear hug, and rub her back.

“Is okay, maybe we can visit him someday”

She sighs and let the tears fall as she return the hug.

“I-I’ll like that, thank Beel”

Belphegor

“You’re still up” MC asks Belphie who is standing at the doorway at her room.

“Sorry, I was waiting for you”

“Really why?”

“You been having nightmare with some men with guns, I figure to help you” she let out sharp gasp and turn away from Belphie.

“I’m sorry to keep you up-”

“No! I already cause so much pain; I want to help you to keep those nightmares away. Like I promise.”

She looks back with her eyes widen and clenching his pact mark on her wrist. She hastily grabs his hand with her head hang low.

“P-please…. Make the nightmares go away….”

“Anything for you, I’ll keep the nightmares and the bad men away”

Diavolo

“You like what you see” Diavolo spoke behind MC startling her, Diavolo was shock to her reaction almost bumping into crown in display.

“Oh, I-I wasn’t planning to steal this I swear-”

“Calm down, I trust you. Sorry for startling you.”

“You trust me, even with my background” she mutters, and look directly at Diavolo’s eyes to see if his lying or not.

“I didn’t look in to your past, only your connection with Lilith. I believe in Demons, Angel, and Humans can have second chances. If you’re a good person now, as long you learn from your past. I don’t see to bring up old scars”

“Thank you, My lord”

“Please, Call me Diavolo”

“I don’t think Lucifer will like that”

Barbatos

MC is inside Barbatos room, helping him clean, to the surprise of the demon butler seeing that he didn’t help in clean. But he can’t refuse the human.

But then she stops and look at the door she uses in going back in time in the time of the “Incident”

“Barbatos, can you see any path where I stayed in the human world and never came here in the first places”

“I’m afraid, I am forbidden to use my powers like that, why may I ask what makes you think of that?”

“I think, I got the luckiest path. And I’m thankfully for this. I think I’ll be in the side of the road-”

Suddenly Barbatos places a hand on her shoulder, causing her to look at the demon.

“Its better not to think of what could’ve happen and focus on your presents self”

Simeon

“Simeon, am I bad person?” She asks while Simeon is writing a draft of his story.

“No, why do you ask?”

“You’re the closes person to being pure and good, is it good for me to threaten people even though I was just following orders”

Simeon stop writing and put the quill down, and look over to MC.

“Did they threat you?”

“Yes”

“Did you, like doing things like that to other?”

“No!” she quickly sat up to that question.

“Are you willing to do that again?”

“Never!”

“Then you’re a good person.”

Solomon

Solomon and MC are at purgatory hall practicing spells for class, when MC spill the potion on to herself, then she starts taking off her shirt, leaving Solomon blushing and turning his back to give her some privacy.

“MC!?! Warner me next time, before you start striping.”

“Sorry, force of habit”

“What you always spill potion on yourself all the time, back home” she looks with bows rise up.

“Oh… No, every time I get back home from a job, I’m usually covered in blood and I don’t want to leave any evidence behind”

“W-what exactly, are those “Jobs” of yours?”

“I you know shady things, if you can keep secrets about yourself. Then I have secrets of my own” she smiled teasing him.

But to him, its no tease.

Luke

“Luke, little advise from me. Don’t be like Mammon or Me” MC and Luke watches Mammon, Levi and Solomon playing poker in class waiting the bell to ring.

“I know Mammon shouldn’t be followed, but you’re a good person I don’t see why you rope yourself with him.”

“Oh sweetie, I’m just nice to people I care about. I don’t care for others outside my gan- never mind”

“Wha-” then the bell rings, and Mammon rushes and grab MC by arm and dragging her out the classroom.

Leaving Luke confuse and worried.

[unwrittenlibrary]

magnetic force of a man

summary // loving him in the summer is warmth and radiance.

or; three summers showcasing the growth of your relationship with bucky. [bucky barnes x fem!reader]

words // 4.5k

warnings // post-endgame bucky & softness & kind of corny

notes // inspired by taylor swift’s lover. somehow this just came out, i’m not sure how i feel about it.

my writing is free and it will stay free, but if you enjoy it and you have the resources, consider donating to my ko-fi!

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

| Summer of 2025 |

You meet Bucky at the Farmer’s Market in June when you both reach for a red delicious apple. It’s awkward laughs and friendly introductions.

You’ve heard of him before; Janet who runs the apple stand talks about him and how perfect of a match you would be. Unbeknownst to you, Eugene who runs the plum stand, says the same thing to him.

“You’re the man Janet won’t shut up about.” You smile sweetly. Your eyes scan his small basket of fruits and vegetables. He’s got a lot of different things. He must cook, you think. “I’ve been told I would like you.”

Bucky laughs. His eyes scan your basket too, you wonder what he thinks of all your choices. “You must be the woman Eugene won’t stop talking about.” He leans towards you and in a mischievous tone whispers, “I think they’ve been trying to set us up.”

It makes you laugh. “You’ve got a beautiful laugh.” Bucky compliments. His smile is genuine and he’s got blue eyes that are filled with kindness. You can see why Janet had been trying for so long to get you to meet him.

“Thank you.” You step towards him when another man rushes past you. “I have to ask, what have you heard?”

Bucky shrugs. “Just that you’re beautiful and you make the best apple pie Eugene’s ever tasted.” Bucky leans towards you again. “So far, he’s spot on.” The implication makes heat rise to your cheeks and you smile down at your basket.

“Guess I’ll have to make you some pie so you can see if he’s two for two.” You look back up with a teasing smile. Bucky’s eyes light up in excitement.

He shakes his head in amusement. “I hope I’m not being too forward, can I have you number?” You’re already pulling your phone out of your pocket to hand over.

That’s the beginning of your story.

˚《

Your first date is the last week of June. After weeks of texting and even some phone calls, Bucky had finally asked you out.

He takes you to a drive in up in Warwick and you park in the middle row of the second screen to watch Grease. The sun is still out when you arrive, so there’s some time to get snacks and settle in.

“Did you know it was throwbacks weekend?” You ask as Bucky flips through his radio stations in search of the correct one.

He shakes his head. You can see his fingers shaking a little nervously as he looks up at you. “Is Grease okay? I’ve uh, I’ve never seen it. It looked cute.” He grimaces and it makes you smile.

“I love Grease.” You say softly, reaching your hand out for his. “Are you nervous?”

Bucky laughs awkwardly. “Am I that obvious?” Your eyes trail over his gloved hands, his left hand resting on his thigh as you hold his right.

“I think it’s sweet.” You reassure him. “You must be hot in these. It’s June.” You flip his hand so it’s palm up and trace your finger over it.

“I haven’t done this in awhile.” He admits. There’s a red tint to his cheeks, one that’s not from the summer heat, and it makes you giggle. He eyes meet yours and he smiles tensely. “I’m uh- I-“

“You don’t have to say it.” You pull the glove off hastily so his flesh hand is revealed to you. “I know who you are. You can keep them on if you want, but you don’t need to.” You place the glove back in his palm and wrap his fingers around it.

Bucky watches you for a moment. “You know who I am and still want to go one a date with me?” You frown at his self-depreciating tone.

“I know who you used to be. I don’t know you though. The real Bucky Barnes. That’s why I want to go on this date with you.” The radio begins reciting rules of the drive-in and you look at the screen. The sun is setting behind it quickly.

When you turn to look at Bucky again, he has a grin on his face as he watches you. “Come on! Let’s get snacks before the movie starts.” You turn to push open the car door and Bucky follows after you easily.

You don’t know it yet, but that’s the beginning of your pull over him. Bucky thinks he would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

˚《

Your first kiss is two weeks later after watching a movie in central park. It was Dirty Dancing this time. You’ve been on five dates.

You’ve learned that Bucky likes going to these throwback playings and experiencing the movies he missed while under Hydra’s control. You’re happy to indulge him, truly.

You just wish he would do more than hold you hand. Which, okay, maybe that isn’t fair. Sometimes he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder and you’ll lean your head against his chest. He’ll even give you a kiss on the cheek goodnight, but he still won’t kiss you on the lips and you’re starting to think he just doesn’t want to.

One date? Okay, he wants to be respectful and not move too fast. Two dates? A little weird, but he was from a different time. Three? Did they just not kiss back then? You can’t imagine a charming Bucky Barnes who didn’t steal a kiss from a pretty girl. Four had you on the edge of your seat waiting for the kiss that didn’t happen.

Now, as Bucky walks you home, you think of all the ways you can bring it up. You even think of just kissing him yourself, it was the twenty-first century and women can make the first move.

Except, you can’t help but think, what if he doesn’t want to kiss me?

“You alright?” Bucky’s hand gripping your elbow gently forces you out of your head. You look up at him with wide eyes and nod a little too hastily. “You sure? You’ve been silent for like, fifteen minutes.”

His eyes are concerned pools of blue as he stares down at you. The words just come tumbling out of your mouth, “Why don’t you want to kiss me?”

Bucky just stares at you in shock. You feel heat on the back of your neck and shift in uncomfortable embarrassment at your outburst. “I’m sorry!” You blurt out. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to kiss me and if you don’t want to that’s fine!” You suck in a deep breath. Bucky is still watching you silently, so you continue on. “I would just rather know now if you don’t want to kiss me instead of finding out later.”

You finish quietly with Bucky still watching you. If you weren’t so panicked, you would probably recognize his look as him digesting the words. But the panicked feeling mixes with the sting of rejection and you begin to back away. “Well this was great. Hope to never-“

Bucky’s hand wraps your waist and he hauls you back into him. His lips meet yours harshly, but it’s not painful in any way. It’s somehow gentle and his lips are soft against yours. Your eyes close and one of your hands comes up to rest on his cheek while his hands hold steady onto your waist.

When you pull away it’s with a gasp of air. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that day in the Farmer’s Market.” Bucky admits breathlessly.

“So why’d you never kiss me?” You ask curiously. Cars speed past you on the street and there’s a group of teenagers who all gag as they pass you, but none of it matters with Bucky in your arms like this.

Bucky smiles. “I told you. I haven’t done this in a long time.”

˚《

By August, you and Bucky are going steady. You go to the market together most weekends and Bucky calls you his girl to the people you’ve both become regulars of.

He’s even talked about introducing you to his friends and going out together one night when they’re all free.

It makes your heart race and your fingers twitch with excited nerves. You think you love him, which seems crazy when you think of how you’ve only been seeing each other since June, but you do.

Thinking of him makes your heart beat faster and your face warm. You want to spend as much time as can with him and hang onto every word he says.

It seems like he feels the same way too, but you’re just not sure. Fall is right around the corner though. That means schedules pick up again and the weather gets colder, so you’d like to know if Bucky feels the same way or if this was just a way to pass the time in the summer.

You just don’t know how to say it though. Every time you think of saying the words your nerves get the best of you and you blurt out something he finds endearingly awkward and doesn’t think anything of.

“I still can’t believe a show like this exists.” Bucky murmurs in awe from beside you on his couch. You’re not really pay attention to the random reality show you’ve put on though. You’re focused on the way his eyes shine curiously and how he smiles whenever the host makes a shitty joke.

Your feet are settled in his lap and he pinches your shin when he turns to look at you. “You’re not even watching the show.”

“I love you.” You blurt. That’s one way to do it, you think. You were afraid you would regret the words when you said them or even feel embarrassed, but you don’t. All you feel is lighter, like you’ve created a better world by letting Bucky know somebody loves him, even if he doesn’t feel the same. “I don’t know if you wanted this to be summer fling or-“

“Summer fling?” Bucky laughs. His hand moves up your leg. “I’m not going around calling you my girl to everyone who’ll listen because you’re some fling.”

The words make you laugh. “I love that laugh.” Bucky admits quietly. When your eyes meet his again, he smiles sweetly. “I love you too.”

When he leans towards you for a kiss, you meet him halfway happily.

| Summer 2026 |

Being with Bucky has made you far more confident in yourself. His reassurance and constant support pushed you to be better and you knew he felt the same, so you figured moving in with him was the next step.

You had the perfect plan on how to ask him too. You had recruited Sam, who had taken a liking to you immediately, and gotten an extra key to your apartment cut with the word home engraved onto it.

While you spent the day getting the key cut and making room for Bucky’s things in your space, Sam spent the day distracting him. By the time you hear Bucky knock on your door, you’re about to burst with excitement.

You smooth down the front of you skirt and suck in a deep breath. “Hey!” Bucky’s eyes trail over you in surprise.

“Hey. Did I forget a date?” He looks up nervously, but his shoulders relax when you shake your head with a bright smile. “What’s this then? Not that I don’t love you in this skirt.” His hands find your hips and trail up your sides.

You pull his hands off and pull him inside the apartment. “I have a surprise for you!” He follows you into the kitchen easily and you pull out the small box containing the key.

You rock back and forth on your heels excitedly as Bucky begins to slowly unwrap the box. He watches, completely bemused by your excitement, and moves even slower to tease you.

“Stop!” You laugh and he shakes his head before tearing the rest of the paper off. He inspects the box slowly before opening it.

When his eyes land on the key, he doesn’t say anything and your smile drops. You watch as he stares and your excitement diminishes by the millisecond.

“Do you… Do you not like it?” You ask, unable to handle the silence. Bucky swallows thickly before looking up at you. Your heart drops as the burn of his rejection settles beneath your skin. “You don’t.” It’s not a question.

He reaches for you, but you step out of his grasp. “It’s not that I don’t like it, I just… I’m…” He doesn’t know what to say or how to actually say no to you. It’s obvious.

“You mentioned your lease was up soon and that you didn’t want to resign. I thought…” You trail off. You feel like you can’t breathe. You and Bucky were so good together, this seemed like the logical next step.

Had you read everything wrong? “I meant… I was looking at places closer to you.” Bucky says like it’s supposed to make you feel better.

“But you don’t want to live with me?” Your back hits the counter and you flinch at the harsh feeling. Bucky raises a hand, as if to comfort you, but drops it at the last second. “I don’t… Understand? I guess?”

Bucky runs a hand over his face. “I’m just not ready to live together yet, sweets.” He says softly. His face is grimaced as if the words pain him.

Join the club, you think. “Can I ask why? It seems like the next step, you know? We’ve been together for a year. I figured we’d move in together, start talking about marriage. Our future.”

Bucky’s eyes flash to yours. You hadn’t even thought it was possible, but it feels like your heart drops even further. “Do you not want to get married?” You ask slowly.

“I don’t know.” Bucky answers hesitantly. “I never planned a life. I never thought I’d get all this.”

You know he’s trying to make you feel better about the situation, but his words only hurt you more. “So being with me hasn’t made you think about your future at all?” You question. You think those words are what breaks you. The tears come rushing to your eyes and your face is hot with a mixture of anger and hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky’s getting upset too. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists, something you’ve learned he does when he’s stressed. “I just meant I’m not sure what I want.” A beat of silence. “Shit. I mean-“ He groans in frustration and you sigh.

“I know I want you. A future with you.” You say quietly. You move to the close the box, key still inside, before shoving it into one of your kitchen drawers. “So, I think you should figure it out. What you want. So I know whether or not I should move on.”

Bucky watches you with tears brimming his own eyes. “Sweets-“

“I think you should go home, Buck.” You cut him off in a gentle tone. “Think for a few days.” You begin to move towards your hallway, ready to fall into your bed.

“Like… Like a break?” He asks tightly making you pause. You look at him over your shoulder and shrug.

“If that’s what you want to call it. I think you just need some time to figure out what you want for yourself. If it’s not me, that’s okay, but you should know.” You look back down your hallway. “I deserve to know too.”

You wait until you hear your front door slam shut to fall into your bed. When you notice Bucky’s shirt draped over your vanity chair, the tears come.

Not how you imagined your summer starting.

˚《

The month of June goes by, blossoming into July and Bucky doesn’t reach out. You’re heartbroken over it. Though that doesn’t sound like the right term because it really feels like your heart has been torn from your chest, but there wasn’t really a word for that.

You know you were the one who had suggested the break, but you figured he would have cared for you enough to give you a formal break up. Had you really ever known Bucky? What had gone wrong?

“You weren’t with Bucky yesterday!” Janet gushes when you stop in front of her booth. Your heart cracks at his name. “He always has such sweet things to say about you! Why don’t you two come together anymore? Your work schedules mess you up?”

Your eyes flash to her in confusion. Had Bucky not told her? “Janet… We broke up.” You say quietly. You’ve mastered the art of sounding cold when explaining to your friends and neighbors Bucky wouldn’t be coming around anymore.

She shakes her head like you’re not telling her the truth. “He was just talking about how he was trying to learn his mama’s famous peach cobbler recipe to make for you.”

“Must be another girl.” You say in a heated tone. “I haven’t spoken to him in weeks.”

She frowns. “He said your name, darling. That I’m sure of. Called you his girl and everything, just like he always does.” She explains softly.

“He’s delusional then.” You hiss. You stomp away from her cart. You’ll apologize to her next week, but for now, Bucky has somehow managed to ruin your day.

˚《

There’s a knock on your door that night. Your heart almost stops when you recognize the pattern that Bucky always led with.

When you check the peephole and confirm it’s him you almost don’t open the door, until you notice the tin-foiled dish in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” You ask harshly before he can say a word to you. You lean against your door jam, effectively blocking him from setting foot into your apartment. “And what is that?”

“A poor attempt at peach cobbler.” Your pulse quickens. “And I’m here to apologize.” When you look up and see the sincerity in his eyes, you sigh.

“Come in.” You step aside and he smiles gratefully as he steps past you. He places the dish on your counter and turns to face you nervously.

You stand still across from him. You had never thought you would feel this awkward around Bucky. “I’m sorry for… for hurting you that night.” He starts off quietly. “And for not reaching out, but you were right, I did need to figure my shit out.”

“You could have told me that.” You say softly. “Hey, you’re right! Let’s take a break and figure stuff out. Going ghost on me? That broke my heart, Buck.” You cross your arms over your chest like they’re a shield.

“I know.” Bucky says in the same apologetic tone. “I just… I was embarrassed because I made a fool of myself. Because I wanted to say yes. You have no idea how badly I wanted to say yes, but I was too scared to.”

You shake your head. “Scared of what? It’s me, Buck. I love you. You know I love you.” You hadn’t imagined having this conversation with him and you can’t keep the emotion out of you voice.

“What if you see parts of me living together that you don’t see now that make you not want me?” His tone is resembling that of a broken man, one you’ve only heard stories of.

The Bucky Barnes you know is healing. He’s charming, soft and intimidating but full of life and happiness. Not this. It breaks your heart and against your better judgement, you reach out to cup his cheeks in your hands. “There isn’t a part of you I won’t love, Bucky.”

“I still get nightmares. So bad I wake up screaming and unable to breathe.” He says softly. “It takes forever to get out of them.”

“I’ll hold your hand and help you through them.” You say without hesitation. “Bucky. The point of a relationship is to grow together. I want to do that with you, do you want to do that with me?”

His hands reach up to grip yours. You almost sigh in relief at the feeling of his hands in yours after weeks without it. “I do.” He says steadily. “Can we… Can we not be on a break anymore? I miss you.” He admits quietly.

A part of you thinks you should pull back. He had hurt you and you were still upset. But another, larger part of you, missed him more than he had hurt you.

“Yeah.” You say after a moment. “No more break.” You pull him towards you. He meets you readily in a kiss.

˚《

By the end of August, Bucky’s got a drawer full of things in your bedroom and his books have started to overcrowd your coffee table.

You communicate better. He shares more about his nightmares with you. He talks about the future he sees with you, one with a family and dogs in the backyard of the house he hopes to build.

You’re still nervous to bring up moving in together again. In the end it doesn’t matter though, because Bucky is the one who brings it up.

“Can we…” He starts nervously one night as the two of you eat dinner. “Would you want to talk about moving in together again?”

You look up at him a little shocked by the question. “What do you mean?” You shake your head. You know what he means. “Do you?” You ask quickly.

He nods slowly. You can see his nervousness in his tense jaw and clenching and unclenching fists. “I would like to move in together.” He’s talking kind of robotically, like he’s been practicing the words so they came out perfectly.

It’s sweet, you think. The gesture makes you laugh softly. “I would like to move in together too.” You reach across the table and wrap a hand around Bucky’s wrist.

His shoulders drop and you move to unclench his fist. “Yeah? You would?” He asks, less robotic in tone and more excited.

“Yeah.” You nod in confirmation. Bucky gives you a bright smile that’s impossible to not return.

Come fall, Bucky’s given up his apartment and has got an entire bookshelf taking up room in yours.

| Summer 2027 |

It’s July again and Bucky wants to propose.

Over two years together and the Farmer’s Market feels like the perfect place to do it. It’s where you had met and had become a daily part of your guy’s routine.

The only issue is, he’s pretty sure you’re thinking the same thing. Not that you’re onto him, that you want to propose too.

And, okay, Bucky is all for what women have accomplished in the almost century he’s been alive, truly. But proposing is his thing, it just is.

You had been the first person the say I love you. You had been the one to originally ask him to move in together. He wanted nothing more than to be the one down on one knee with his mother’s ring that he had begged and begged some museum curator to give up.

Which ultimately means, he has to beat you to it. So his plans are a little rushed. He had originally wanted to do it at the end of summer, when fall was rounding the corner and leaves were turning brown, but July would work.

July was when you had gone on some of your first dates and was when you had shared your first kiss. July was meaningful and July would work.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you absentmindedly run your fingers over the apples in front of you. Bucky’s eyes shoot up to look at Janet behind the stand, who smiles at him knowingly. You turn to look at Bucky with raised eyebrows. “You’ve been fidgety all day.”

Bucky lets out a fake cough. “I just feel a little off.” He lies. It’s a poor lie and it makes your lips quark up at the corner.

“Want to go home?” You ask, already stepping away from the apple stand. “We ca-“

“No!” Bucky’s hands grip your shoulders and he forces your to stop. You smile at him in question and Bucky quickly drops his hands back to his side. “I mean, no. Probably just allergies.”

“Uh-huh.” You say in obvious disbelief. “The super soldier suddenly has allergies.”

Bucky sighs in defeat. “You know, don’t you?” He asks and you laugh softly. Your hand finds his and you interlock your fingers together.

“Only because you left the ring on the counter last night and I saw it when I went to get water.” You say apologetically. Bucky drops his head so his forehead rests against your shoulder and lets out a groan.

You press a kiss to his temple before nudging him away. “Ask me.” You urge softly. Bucky wants to say no, that he wants to do it right, but this seems almost fitting.

You were what pushed him to be better, so maybe it made sense for you to be the one who pushed him in this too. He wasn’t sure he would even be able to without it, honestly.

He sucks in a deep breath before dropping to one knee in front of you. There are gasps of people passing by, but Bucky keeps his eyes on you as he pulls out the ring. Resized and cleaned, ready for your finger.

“I have a speech so just, bear with me. Okay?” A smile spreads across your face as you nod. “This is the third summer I’ve spent completely in love with you. I didn’t know I could feel this way about someone. Sometimes I’m still shocked that you wake up everyday and choose to be with me. But I promise I don’t take it for granted. Not for one second because I love you so much and I wake up every morning ready to show you forever. And I… I um.” Bucky swallows. “I had more planned, but I’m so nervous and I just want to ask you already.”

“Ask me.” You whisper with a bright smile. A group has gathered around you two by now, everyone murmuring in excitement but you and Bucky can only stare at each other.

“Will you marry me?” Bucky asks softly. He can see his hand shaking as he holds out the ring to you even though there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll say yes. “Please?” He tacks on for good measure.

You nod quickly, holding your left hand out to him. “Yes. Yes. Of course!” You cheer. Once he has slipped the the ring onto your finger, you pull him up by the collar of his shirt.

You kiss him without a care in the world. Bucky’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your neck as excited cheers resound from all around you two.

When you pull away you’re smiling brighter than he’s ever seen. Bucky can’t do anything but return it.

His eyes move around the crowd and find Eugene, the man who runs the plum stand. He smiles kindly at Bucky and mouths I told you so. Bucky laughs to himself before pressing a kiss to your head.

This Farmer’s Market was probably the best decision Bucky had ever made.

It had brought him you.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // what did i say about soft!bucky? that he was all i knew how to write!!

reblogs and replies are always appreciated, especially if you read and enjoyed this piece!

[sondepoch]

HC: They see MC’s sketchbook!

Art. It’s a private thing. Showing someone your work is akin to showing them a piece of your soul, an insight into who you are and everything that lies within. So when the Obey Me! boys get a glimpse of your sketchbook, they find themselves wanting for more—and all in different ways.

Word Count: 6.0k

*Mild NSFW themes for Asmo & Diavolo

Characters: All Brothers + All Undateables + Luke

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

At the beginning of the year, there is 0 trust between the two of you

Not only has he actively tried to kill you, but he’s already so suspicious of the pacts you’re making with his brothers that he can’t help but be wary every time you cross paths

So when he realizes that you’re always absentmindedly scribbling in a notepad every time you interact, he’s more than a little perturbed by it

100% thinks you’re secretly taking notes on his and his brothers’ behavior to use it against them

So, obviously, when he next sees you using it in his presence, he wastes no time in snatching the notebook from your hands

“Oh hey, Lucif—what are you doing?!”

“Nothing you should be concerned with, human.”

“That’s my sketchbook you’re holding!”

“Sketchbook?”

Instantly flips it open and sure enough, inside there’s nothing but doodles and sketches

luci.is.confuzzled.exe

He’s still convinced that there must be something incriminating in the book, so he continues flipping through it. But the more he sees, the more he realizes how wrong he is

It’s only when he flips to the section with his family that he begins to feel guilty

In the beginning, you just draw basic poses. Mammon, glancing at you over his shoulder. Asmo, posing for a camera. Beel, about to bite down on a hamburger. 

But the further he goes, the more elaborate the sketches get, and as he flips through the pages, he can feel the amount of work that has gone into each piece

And then he gets to the page where you drew him

Keep it lowkey, but he thinks his heart stopped for a second

He stares at the picture and wonders if that’s what you see every time he shifts into his demon form, because for the first time since his fall, he can’t help but think about how beautiful he looks. Everything looks so right in your art style, from the diamond on his forehead to the way his wings flutter out of his back.

It’s perfection

“I’m confiscating this,” He says quickly, not looking you in the eye.

He then escapes the room faster than you’ve ever seen, and never speaks of the incident again to you

But roughly a week later, you find a small red book on your pillow, and you know that it's a sketchbook from him, to replace the one he took

And even later—after the two of you grow close—you find your old sketchbook stored in his most secure drawer, locked away with a key he keeps hidden. And you know that he’s spent hours looking through the book on rough nights, through the doodles of him and his brothers and everything else you’ve ever drawn

And though he’s too proud to admit it, you know he loves your art 

Mammon

He found it when he was going through your stuff, absentmindedly checking to see if you had any valuables on you

And the moment he flipped open to see your little notebook of doodles, his mind went B I N G O 

He loves your art the second he sees it, spending a whole hour just sitting on your bedroom floor, flipping through the pages

Adores everything about your art style

And when he starts to see the little doodles you do of his brothers, he’s even more enraptured

You draw all the things he’s imagined but never seen: a sketch of Lucifer dressed in a onesie, snuggling a giant teddy bear. Beel, using a sleeping Belphie as a food tray for a pile of snacks as large as the sixth-born himself. Asmo with cat ears, being chased by Solomon, who appears to be a wolf.

And yet, there are no pictures of Mammon

Man is hurt by the fact that you’ve drawn all his brothers but not him. He’s your first man, after all. You should have been the first person he drew!

Gets a bit upset about it and throws your sketchbook back into the drawer he found it in, stomping back to his room with childlike indignation

Is just a bit petty about it afterward

“Hey, Mammon, can you walk me to school? Class starts in half an hour.”

“Huh? Oh, so now ya want me to do it, huh? Well, why don’t you ask Asmo instead?”

“Okay? I will???”

Soon everyone in the house has realized that Mammon’s being a bit off, and while it was nice at first to have peace and quiet from the resident troublemaker, you guys grow concerned pretty quick

And eventually, you go to his room to talk things out

Let’s just say that when you found out he’d been going through your stuff, you were not pleased. But seeing that he wasn’t going to be the mature one, you sucked it up and whacked the demon on the back of his head, telling him to “wait a second” while you went to “get something”

Cue the retrieval of your second sketchbook 

And when Mammon sees it, he’s not sure what he feels more of: guilt or happiness

Every single page in this second notebook is of him. Only a few are colored, but Mammon finds himself enraptured by even the casual doodles in the corners, where he’s doing little things like eating a banana or flashing the viewer a few Grimm

Man is touched. He’s never had anyone do this for him, and certainly not out of their own volition. So suffice it to say that when he tackled you for a hug that night, he didn’t let you go for a long time

And maybe some other stuff happened too. Who knows? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Leviathan

TSL

The second Levi sees you sketching in your artbook (after an incoherent stumble of words which you assume are synonymous with praise), the only phrase coming out of this man’s mouth is TSL

Begins begging you to draw fanart of the Shadow Lord, asking you to sketch him in different outfits, draw him in different poses, put him in various backgrounds, etc.

Basically wants you to bring his imagination to life

“Oh! Oh! Can you draw him baking a cake now? Wouldn’t that be so cool?!”

Absolutely does the wwooooooOOOOOAAAHAHHHHHHH sound effect every single time you show him your work, even if you’ve only made minor changes from the last time you showed him

He takes you on a spending spree, pulling up Akuzon and offering to pay for whatever supplies you want if you’ll just make him a super fancy poster

And so you start

It actually gets to be a pretty good way to grow closer: every day, after school, you head up to Levi’s room to work on the poster he asked you to make him. In exchange, he lets you borrow his manga and you guys watch anime together

Eventually, boi gets the idea of throwing Ruri-chan into the poster, and the second he thinks it he won’t shut up about it

“Oh, come on! You can do it—look, just put her in this little corner right here!”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Levi?! Ruri-chan and the Shadow Lord are two completely different characters who are meant to be drawn in completely different art styles! If I mush Ruri-chan into the corner, it’ll ruin the poster’s dynamic!”

“But pleeeeeaaaassseeeee?”

Cue extra pouty Levi

Eventually, you agree to make a separate drawing of Ruri-chan for Levi to hang up next to the poster, because you think that otherwise, he’ll go crazy

When the date rolls around where you’re almost done with everything, Levi formally sends out an invitation to everyone of importance

Man invites everyone from Luke to Diavolo over for the “revealing ceremony” where he plans to hang the poster on his wall

Actually tried to get the demon king to come as well, but Lucifer stopped him before he could get an invitation out

When everyone sees what you’ve been working on for so many weeks, they’re all MEGA impressed because hello??? they did not know you were this skilled???

It quickly turns into a competition, with each one of them trying to outdo each other with how vigorously they can compliment you

And soon enough you find yourself swamped with requests from every other demon in the room, begging you to make them something as elaborate as you did Levi

Satan

It’s a system you guys have set up, where every Tuesday and Thursday night, you’ll sit in the common room on the couch facing each other and will simply open your books to do what you will

You always draw, and Satan always reads

And neither will bother the other until the grandfather clock chimes twelve times, whereupon you both bid each other goodnight and wait for the next session where you do it all over

Except for today, that is

“What are you drawing?” 

Ah, there it is

The one question you were hoping Satan would never ask

You subtly (incredibly awkwardly) change the subject, commenting on the color of Satan’s jacket to distract him from his inquiry, and he picks up on the hint, quietly huffing as he turns back to his book 

But the mild irritation he feels doesn’t let him fully delve back into the realm of the nonfiction novel he was reading, so he’s more than a little distracted as he goes back to reading about human anthropology

And it’s in this state of distraction that he notices the little glances you’re stealing every so often, before returning to your sketchpad

Yeah, it doesn’t take long for Satan to put two and two together

“Are you drawing me?”

An incredulous question, asked in such an offending tone

He sounds so irate by the fact that you can’t help but helplessly deny it, muttering something about drawing plants and flowers instead

But Satan doesn’t believe it, and in an instant he’s standing behind you, staring at the sketch in your hands which has oh-so-beautifully captured the essence of him on the couch, engrossed in a book with the light from the flames in the fireplace flickering gently against his skin

The anger at being drawn without having agreed to it quickly melts into a quiet awe for your skill

“Can I see your other drawings?” He asks gently, no longer irritated but actually impressed

“I-I’m not sure if you’ll want to—”

“Nonsense. Show me.”

And so you do

You hand him the sketchbook, avoiding his eyes as he flips to the very first page—and imagine his surprise when he sees that even that is a sketch of his face, though the artwork is significantly less advanced than the piece he just saw. Satan flips to the next page, and then the next, and the next, and sure enough: they’re all of him

“I-I just needed a model to practice my artwork on,” You mumble, gaze fixated on the couch. “And you were right there, so I couldn’t resist...and then I needed a model again. And again. And you were always there, and I know I never asked, but I’m sorry, and if you don’t want me to, I won’t—“

“Nonsense,” Satan murmurs, pressing a finger to your lips. His smile has never looked as sincere as it looks now, his gaze flickering back and forth between your face and the sketchbook in his hands

“I’ll be your model, if you so desire it. Just tell me how you want me to sit.”

Asmodeus

Your model for everything

You’re trying to draw the Hulk and you a good frame of reference? And you need a really muscular model? And Beel ABSOLUTELY fits the bill? 

Yeah no, Asmo’s your model

You want to draw a child? Someone small and short, roughly the exact same height as Luke (who is an ANGEL and would absolutely help you)? Yeah no, Asmo’s still going to be your model.

Want a cute guy? Asmo. Cute girl? Asmo. Cute animal? Still Asmo.

Man refuses to leave you alone - the second he learns that you’re an artist he insists on gracing your work with the holy sight of his body

Highkey wants to model nude

And you’d be lying if you said that he was a bad model—man can hold a pose for hours without moving even a little, his only fault is that he talks incessantly—but you can easily quiet him by saying that you’re drawing his lips - and the moment you do so, he’s suddenly he’s stiller than a statue,  doing his absolute best to remain frozen so that you can capture his perfection

Boi posts 100% of your content on his Devilgram, and while you were hesitant about it at first, now you’re just used to it

Thanks to him, you’re a lowkey celebrity

Like demons love your art style 

It’s apparently very refreshing and human-like as compared to the dark and dreary art found in the Devildom, so people go wild over Asmo’s Devilgram page for it

Man thinks that they’d go even more wild if you drew something where he modeled nude

In fact, it’s lowkey a business deal that the two of you have - you allow Asmo to post your work on his Devilgram (giving credit to you, of course), and in exchange he pays for all your art supplies, acts as your model (though that’s really more of him wanting to than it being your choice), and even goes as far as to keep Mammon apart from you while you work, insisting that you need “privacy” and “quiet” while you draw

100% acts like he isn’t even more chatty than Mammon when given the chance

On the bright side, it’s thanks to these weekly art sessions where you draw and Asmo models and talks that you’re always up to date on the latest gossip. You’re 100% caught up with the fact that Zahhak just found out he has another illegitimate son and that Baphomet just liked Rusalka’s post from fourteen centuries ago

So yeah, the two of you have a mutually beneficial relationship

Asmodeus still insists that one thing would make it better though: him modeling nude

But Asmo is a sweetheart about everything, and he goes out of his way to pamper you 

Specifically, your hands—after all, those are what work your artistic magic!

Expect him to always be peppering your dominant hand with kisses, massaging it whenever you look tired, giving you weekly manicures completely free of charge, all out of the goodness of Asmo’s heart

*ahem* and weekly requests to model nude

Beelzebub

a m a z e m e n t 

Boi is entranced

Like, he’s so mesmerized by your art that he’s not even paying attention to the food sitting right in front of him, simply opting to stare more intently at the drawing you’re holding up so eagerly

It’s quite beautiful, really: The seven demon brothers surrounding you, a reworking of a photograph Lucifer took a few months ago but in your art style. And for that last fact, Beel thinks he likes this version better

“Wow,” He finally manages to say, still too impressed to really think of anything else

He lets his brothers shower you in praise and compliments, silently nodding along and agreeing with every plaudit they thrust your way

But the moment you’re alone, expect to be scooped into his arms and carried to his room

Boi instantly wants to know the process

When do you draw? How long does it take? Where do you do it? How are you getting your supplies? Who pays?

It’s not so much the physical process he’s interested in, but rather the nuances of art that make your work look so you. He’s not interested in learning for the sake of doing, but simply for the sake of understanding because he already appreciates your art so much

Absolutely invites you to his room to have you show him the art process the next time you start working on a piece

And after the first time, then, he invites you back a second - then a third - and then the two of you have settled into a routine where after school, you come to his room and pencil away in your sketchpad, with Beel watching in the background, munching on snacks

It’s quite relaxing for him, actually

He likes watching as you bring a piece together, going over previously flat areas with a second layer of shading to make certain elements pop—and even if he doesn’t completely understand what you’re doing, he’s entirely willing to learn, listening peacefully as you explain what the various tools do

By the end of the month, man has actually memorized all the names of your supplies, handing them to you every time you ask for it - be it something as simple as a request for an eraser or just the blending stump

Lowkey, your work has actually improved since you began working up in Beel’s room

Not only does he have the most comfortable setup, but the man pampers you like royalty, always making sure that there’s water or food for you in case you need something

(And if you do happen to require something that isn’t already in Beel’s room, man will 100% get it for you so that you don’t have to stop what you’re doing)

Honestly, it’s the perfect arrangement: he gives you the ideal working space and you give him hours upon hours of intrigue

And if you happen to begin sitting in his lap one day while you work, something which quickly turns into a pattern, who’s there to stop anything? ;)

Belphegor

Man naps

A lot

And you just happen to be his favorite pillow, so it’s hardly a surprise when all your free time is spent in the presence of a dozing Belphie, always passed out over your legs

So once, just once, you pull your sketchpad out from under your pillow and work on it, a cautious eye trained on the seventh-born’s every move in case he stirs

And when that first time goes smoothly, you pull your sketchpad out a second time

Then a third

Then a fourth - and suddenly, you’re caught in a pattern

It was really just a matter of time until Belphie woke up one day and you didn’t notice

And it’s already too late when the drowsy demon lifts his head, peering curiously onto your lap to see what you’re working on—much to your horror

“Y-you’re awake,” You mutter halfheartedly, a sick feeling settling in your stomach as you watch the demon’s expression shift as he studies your artwork

You hate it

A bubble of anxiety begins to rise, fear over whether he will like your work or call it bad, whether he’ll make fun of your work or tell the brothers, whether he’ll be kind about it or mean

But then, much to your surprise, he flops back onto your lap, utterly unphased

“Nice,” The demon comments casually, stretching as he rests his head along your thigh. “It’s pretty.”

You can only blink as he falls back asleep, utterly confused as to what just happened

He woke up, right? And he saw your art? And he complimented it, telling you that he thought it was nice and pretty?

A sound of disbelief escapes your mouth as you try to process the utter nonchalance with which the whole exchange had concluded with, your shock only interrupted by the light sound of Belphie, who’s already snoring

You groan

But now that Belphie has seen your work, it’s not like there’s much point in hiding it any longer, right?

You pull your sketchbook out, silently continuing to work on the design that the man napping on your lap had said to be “nice,” adding some finishing touches to it 

And when Belphie wakes up, he speaks nothing of the entire exchange

From that point and onward, you become a little more comfortable around him, relieved that you don’t need to talk about it with him

And he gets it

For all your free time, while he naps, you draw, and the two of you find a comfortable form of peace together, an odd tranquility lurking in the fact that there are no questions, no answers, just you and him, the sound of scribbling and snoring, your sketchpad and his pillow

And really, who needs anything else?

Solomon

He’s probably the first one to realize, on his own, that you’re an artist

The two of you have nearly all your classes together, thanks to Lord Diavolo, so it’s hardly surprising when the ever-astute sorcerer picks up on the fact that every time he casts you a second glance, you’re working on some mysterious sketch underneath your desk

Doesn’t really care at first

Until he sees your work

Man actually stops when he picks your sketchbook up off the ground, inspecting the page it had flipped open to after you dropped it

“Holy shit”

Doesn’t even ask for permission, he just begins browsing through the sketchbook, growing more and more impressed with each new page he sees

You only snatch the book back from his hands when you realize that the sketch he’s staring at so intently is one you drew of him, thanking him for picking it up with a huff and awkwardly trying to remove yourself from the situation as fast as humanly (heh, yes that is a pun) possible

Wizard boy stops you, ofc

“Come with me”

“But I have class soon—"

Again, doesn’t even wait for your agreement, man just drags you by the forearm to the library and flips open a book, throws down his own notebook, and demands that you use your “art skills or whatever” to help him

Sigh

Precious wizard boy isn’t very good with words when he’s all worked up

It takes you a good 5 minutes to understand that he wants you to compare the summoning circle outlined on the book with the one he sketched to identify where he went wrong, because apparently you have an “artist’s eye” and therefore you should be able to assist him - and he refuses to believe you when you try to convince him that no, this is not your strong suit and you will likely be unable to help him

He gets whinier than Asmo (probably where he gets it from) and will not stop nagging you even as you try to leave, so eventually you just give in and agree to try to help him - and it wounds up being surprisingly easy for you to realize that he missed the secondary outline of the inner circle, among another few minor mistakes

Huh, maybe you are naturally inclined toward this

From that moment and onward, Solomon decides that you are officially valuable (not only do you have magical potential, but you have an eye for summoning circles too? how UNFAIR) and begins spending all his time with you

Doesn’t really care about the fact that you’re an artist at first—is really more interested in how your skills can be applied

But then one day, after a particularly rough night of going through twelve whole summoning circles for twelve powerful demons, he takes a nap and wakes up to find you passed out on the floor, sleeping on top of your sketchbook where you fell asleep doodling him

Highkey touched

And slowly, he begins casually “falling asleep” around you more often, to see and flip through more of your artwork when he wakes up 

Sigh

Bby is fucking shady even when he does wholesome shit

Simeon

Okay let’s be real

There’s no peace with the seven demon brothers. Solomon is chaotic. Luke, as much as we love him, is just a lot to be around. And even with Barbatos next to him, Diavolo is a walking tornado that tends to wreak havoc whenever he wills it (and he usually wills it).

So honestly, being with Simeon is the only place of tranquility you can find in the entire Devildom

Specifically, his room

*Which is off-limits to all the aforementioned individuals

He extended the invitation for you to spend some “relaxation time” in his quarters whenever you pleased at the beginning of the year, his angelic heart already sensing the absolute whirlwind of disaster you were walking into when you joined RAD

And while you declined his offer immediately out of politeness, you found yourself sheepishly knocking on his door not one week into the program

And now it’s become an every-day sort of thing

So yeah

Simeon knows about your art

In fact, you can’t seem to draw unless you’re in his presence, because at this point, he naturally soothes you so much that your hand is only steady when you hear the sound of his calm breathing in the background

In fact, you work best when the two of you are spread out on his couch, your back resting comfortably on Simeon’s shoulder while he writes (yes, he manually writes all his books on pen and paper) and you put your legs up on the couch, sketching away in your notebook

It’s the very image of peace, something you can’t seem to find anywhere else in this realm

And Simeon, bless his heart, may be a master of calligraphy, but the precious angel cannot draw to save his life - a fact which you have taken it upon yourself to handle

See, the angel gets tired every now and then—understandable, given that he produces literal masterpieces at his hands

And so when he gets tired, what does he do? 

Make incomprehensible doodles in the upper left corners of his papers

So, of course, you’ve taken it upon yourself to bring those doodles to life (even if it requires a half-hour of inspection before you can make out what the sketch was supposed to be) and Simeon loves it

The expression of eagerness that surfaces every time you inform him that you’ve finished a piece is so rewarding, because the childlike glee with which he takes the paper from your hands to inspect it always sends a rush of warmth to your heart as he gushes in appreciation

But uh 

Simeon is a special kind of chaotic, something that manifests every time he doodles something on paper

You stare at the angel in disbelief as he informs you that his latest doodle (what appears to be a banana-looking creature in sunglasses?) was actually a monkey ironing clothes—unsure what to say in light of this information

But it’s okay :) There only needs to be one artist in this relationship, and it clearly isn’t him

Luke

It started with cake

He needed “inspiration” to make something for Barbatos, as a thank-you gift for the pastry lessons the elder gave him, but Luke claimed that everything he made, while it tasted fine, lacked in the aesthetic department

And while normally you would play it Simeon-style, leaving it to the younger angel to handle things on his own so that he can grow individually, you felt too bad watching him discard another batch of cupcakes into Beel’s mouth, rubbing his head in aggravation over how annoying it was that nothing was looking right

So you helped him out

It was nothing major, really

Just eight doodles—subtle yet elegant designs for a triple-tiered cake, childish and bouncy arrangements to store flan, little details in frosting to give cupcakes the added element of specialty that makes them infinitely better

But the second Luke saw your paper, he went wild

Boi was running to the kitchen so fast he barely even had the time to shout “thank you” 

Apparently, your little sketches sparked inspiration in him so strongly that the flames burned til midnight (much to Simeon’s disapproval), but when Luke was finally done with everything, he walked out of the kitchen with a tray of desserts that looked so perfect it was hard to imagine that he brought them to life from your sketches

Luke spent ages thanking you, shoving desserts down your throat even when you insisted that you were full, so unimaginably grateful that you helped him out of what he called “chef’s block”

Each “thank you” was accompanied either a brownie or a slice of mango mousse or whatever new pastry Luke was creating that day, and before long you were getting to enjoy luxury foods on the daily (much to Beel’s jealousy)

Boy only believed that the debt was paid when you told him that there was no debt to pay, that you sketched those quick little doodles for him out of kindness and not obligation

Believe it or not, Luke’s eyes actually welled with tears for a second at that, before he wrapped you up in a giant (is it really giant if the hugger is so little?) hug, wailing something about you being too “pure” and “perfect” for the Devildom, and that one day you would be very happy in the Celestial Realm

You pat his head, telling him that if it truly made him this happy, you would be glad to help him out again and sketch some food doodles whenever he wanted some new ideas

Cue another round of hugs, muffled crying, and sobs about how amazing you are

Barbatos

Barbatos knew, of course

Not because he used his powers or anything, he would hardly use them for something so trivial, but he was aware from the start that you were an artist because it was he who prepared for your arrival in the Devildom, ensuring that you had all the same amenities and comforts you were used to in the human realm

And, as such, that included art supplies

So the very moment he set his eyes on you, he was aware that you were an artist

What he didn’t expect was for you to actually be good at it

He sees your sketchbook when he’s casually strolling through the RAD library, finding you completely knocked out on one of the tables, the spiral binding of the sketchpad still digging indents into your cheek where you lie on top of it

At first, the butler rearranges your position as a courtesy

He lifts your head and rests it on your hand - which makes a much softer pillow -  coincidentally placing your books back inside your bag and taking a moment to organize the papers strewn across the desk

But then he just happens to glance inside

And the second he does, he’s mesmerized

There’s not much in the world that can surprise Barbatos - not after he’s looked after Diavolo, of all people, for so many millennia - but the butler still finds himself holding his breath as he flips through your sketchpad, each piece telling a story so evocative that it leaves him wanting more even when he arrives at a blank page, abruptly realizing that he’s just gone through your entire sketchbook without your permission

Of course, you just have to wake up at that precise moment - sleepy eyes glancing up at the butler and wondering if you’re hallucinating, but the book in his hands is far too real and the shocked expression on his face is impossibly jarring and you flinch, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you realize what must have happened

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman about it, kindly telling you to get more rest so that you don’t pass out in a public library surrounded by demons who want to eat your soul, but he ends the sharp warning with a rather kind remark about your artwork

“I liked the second-last piece best,” He murmurs, casting you a cryptic smile before bidding you farewell

And obviously, the moment he’s out of sight, your nose is buried in your sketchbook, fingers flipping furiously to find the second-last piece you drew which you cannot seem to remember at all, and—

Oh

A flush immediately erupts on your cheeks as you see the colored sketch, something inspired by nothing more than a whim

It’s simply two people on a walk—both of them vague imitations of what your mind had wistfully conjured up—one of them bearing the telltale mismatched hair and olive green eyes, the other sharing a quiet resemblance to yourself - a conscious decision, of course

But just as you’re about to flip off the page, another detail you’d forgotten about draws your attention—and your cheeks suddenly burn in embarrassment as you realize why Barbatos singled this piece out

The figures are smiling, gazing at each other from the corners of their eyes. And there, in the very center of the piece, it is obvious: 

They are holding hands

Diavolo

RIP to Diavolo’s royal painter

They have been replaced

By you

As much as you fought it, as much as you argued that you were not fitting of this position, as much as you pleaded with the demon lord to not force this title upon your shoulders, Diavolo’s decision to appoint you as the honorary Devildom painter was final—and nothing can change his mind once it’s made up

The title is really just that: a title. Diavolo knows that you’re a busy student, and while he honored your artistic talents with this position, he’s not about to actually force you through the expected proceedings of a true royal painter, not while you’re trying to survive being an exchange student in hell with an entirely unfamiliar curriculum in front of you

But on occasion, he’ll send you a text, asking if you’re free

And you’ll head on over to his palace, ready to paint him

And unlike every other demon, angel, and human in the Devildom, when Diavolo models for you, he actually models nude

Asmo is jealous

Sexual tension is high when you paint him, let’s just leave things at that

And honestly, it really doesn’t matter what you paint - Diavolo seems to be more interested in the fact that it’s a human who did the art in the first place

He once saw your RAD binder, noticing the little doodles you’d drawn on the corner of all your papers, and he immediately took them—declaring that they were art to be preserved for all eternity for historical documentation purposes

So yeah

There’s a hall in Diavolo’s palace filled with your RAD math homework, an eternal reminder of the assignments you copied off of Solomon

(You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you’ve drawn some rather inappropriate doodles on those pages or the fact that, despite having copied all the answers, you still managed to get nearly one-third of the problems wrong, and now your mistakes are to be showcased in the Devildom for centuries to come)

It gets to the point where you and Solomon start making bets over how basic you can get with your art for Diavolo to still consider it “amazing” and “utterly awe-inspiring,” as he likes to put it

In honor of that bet, there is currently a banana peel with a few marker doodles on it hanging in a preserved case in an iced room in the lowest levels of the palace, as none of the “art” can be wasted

But in truth, the demon lord’s fixation with human culture is endearing, especially when Diavolo tries so hard to be accepting of it

So eventually you stop giving Diavolo wacky art and actually start putting your full effort into your creations—your reward being the fact that the final piece you complete gets hung in Diavolo’s private bedroom, where he promises to gaze at it every night for the rest of eternity, vowing to remember his time with you every time he sees it

[idvlover]

so uh naib new skin man in red hcs?

I love his skin so much (I love all of Naib's skins because he's my comfort character, but that quickly went to the top with Dax falling second and inference falling third lol)

Man In Red HC's:

Ruthless man he is and a very ruthless ruler. A lot of people fear him and they have every right to

He used to be loving and innocent himself, but something during the plague made him snap. Causing everyone he held close to him to run, only making him worse

Other than Violetta, he hasn't been close to anyone since. If anything, he wants to rule the throne on his own. No one to talk him out of things or to try something behind his back

The last person who tried to stop him was Edgar. Poor man was literally crucified when he tried to stop Naib from overtaking the throne

He's also pretty wicked when it comes to dealing with other kingdoms. Surprisingly, he never plans on invading one. But if a ruler keeps pushing it, he just might

After other rulers see how he runs and deal with things, they quickly back off and leave him alone. He is clearly someone not to be messed with, and they are not about to test his abilities in war and find out how cruel he can truly be

You have to be someone he holds very, VERY, dear to his heart in order to even be friend

One of his citizens managed to squeeze their way into his heart. Even become his s/o

They were trying to carry some stuff home, unfortunately, someone had stolen their horse, leaving them to carry what they could and possibly come back the next day and get it

They bumped into Naib by accident, they apologized, but when they saw his face they began to apologize even more out of panic

Naib just stares at them deadpanned and wondering why they're trying to carry all this stuff on their own. So he asks them as he picked up one of the items to look at it

They explain their situation. For once, deep down he wanted to help someone. And he did help them

S/o was quite nervous though. Naib asked them about their home life and what they do. Just small talk

They tell him that they're managing okay-ish. The plague that swept through plummeted their family business unfortunately

After helping them, he went back to the palace and kept thinking about them

He started leaving the palace a lot more frequently. Something about s/o just makes him feel like a person again and he missed that feeling so much

S/o starts slowly becoming comfortable with him that one day, they invite him into their little home

It only has one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, etc. But it's cozy and easy to keep up with

Naib finds the little home cute

He tries to invite them to the palace, but they get nervous about it because other people live in it. The last thing they want to do is get in the way of something by accident

He isn't bothered by this and kind of prefers to visit them anyway

After knowing them for quite some time. He shows up in their house with a rose (don't worry s/o gave him a house key if he ever wanted to visit)

S/o comes home and sees him. He goes on about how they knew each other for a while and eventually asks if they want to try and have a relationship together

The only reason he didn't try marrying them right away like people normally during these times is that he needs to make sure if this is something they and himself truly want. He's still scared that they will up and leave

But of course, s/o didn't leave if anything they just became more affectionate towards him. A lot of people envy them because they get to see and be around the sweet and loving man while the rest have to live under his rule

Naib is VERY protective though. He knows not very many people like him and would do anything to make him fall to his knees. So he asked his s/o if they come live with him. They don't have to sell their home or anything, he just wants to be there for them immediately if anything happens

He loves rubbing their back and whispering sweet nothings into their ear

At random times of the day, he'll steal a couple of kisses

He's a tease. Likes to pretend he's going to give them a loving and sweet kiss. Only to say: "my, you seem to want a kiss?" Leaving them to look redder than his clothes

He just laughs and gives them the kiss they wanted

Naib does plan on making them his king/queen. He just knows people who are popular or something (idk) will have issues with it because s/o isn't a royal or anyone considered important

He can shut them up quick, but it's the one's who scheme he's worried about

Violetta assures him that if she catches anyone being suspicious, they won't be around for much longer

But everything goes smoothly because again. Naib is some you don't want to mess with and if you hurt his s/o consequences are going to be so much worse

If his s/o is okay with it, he would like to have an heir (he would still love the child and would never treat them like some sort of project). If not, he's completely fine with that

If they prefer to stay out of the public eye, he respects that. He knows it's a bit stressful

S/o might become the favorite in the kingdom due to their kindness because they're what keeps Naib from going overboard with things

Walks everywhere with his arms linked with s/o

He wants to spoil them, but if they decline. He'll just settle for giving them beautiful flowers

When he comes to bed late. He likes to push his s/o's hair out of their face or rub his thumb against their cheek. He never thought he would meet someone that he loves so much

He has definitely kissed his s/o around the face until they woke up every morning

S/o usually doesn't mind as long as it isn't 7:30 or earlier lmao

Dancing together alone is his favorite thing. He would make sure that they feel extra special because he tries to make them feel special every day

While he is a cruel ruler, a part of him is still a loving, caring person when it comes to his s/o. No one else can have that side of him but them

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (3/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 1.5k

After an exhausting day, Bucky just wanted to go home, have a drink and pass out in his bed. But of course, he had to forget his keys and phone in his office. He debated going back to the club because he knew you were going to be there. 

It wasn't like he was avoiding you, he just prevented going to places where he knew you'd be present. He stayed in his office or was just absent from the club during your shifts. Well, maybe he was avoiding you.

He was an ass to you, which he usually didn't care about because he was an ass to everyone. But for some unexplained reasons, he felt bad after being mean to you. When you walked in with your kind of a shitty story with a lot of plot holes about how you wanted to change scenery, he assumed you were sent by his enemy, Rumlow.

All it took was one background check for him to figure out you weren't lying. What he couldn't figure out was why you'd leave a perfect job in a big city and move to a smaller one and work in a club. 

He didn't need anything when he walked into that store. James Buchanan Barnes is one of the richest people in the town, of course, he had people to do mundane chores for him. He came to that store for you. He needed to apologize to you. Not only that, but he felt something weird in his stomach like he had bad hot dogs, but this was worse. It was his guilt eating him up and stealing his sleep. 

But Bucky Barnes did not feel guilty, not for some girl that threw her perfect life away for a bartender job. So he offered the job to you, simply because you wanted it so much. Maybe his approach was not ideal, but he was trying. He also didn't exactly offer it to you, but he did give it to you and left, hoping that you'd come to his club and take the job, which you did.

He would drop extra tips on your counter every now and then. He would make sure that you do not have to serve their rough customers. Likewise, he was sure Wanda and Pietro could handle anything thrown in their way like drunk touchy customers, drunk flirty customers, drunk angry customers. Furthermore, he made sure you got the busy business customers that are there for work.

It's not like he didn't think you couldn't protect yourself, but again, he barely knew you. Honestly, there wasn't much to dig about you either. You didn't lie about your college and work, and that was enough for him to believe you weren't some double agent sent to spy on him and his business. 

Still, he didn't like you. He didn't like how you were always sweet and polite to customers. He didn't like how you joked with Peter and how your eyes lit up when you laughed at something that Wanda said. Not only that, but he didn't like that his family and friends trusted you enough to hang out with you. You weren't a spy, but you could still be some sort of hypnotizing witch by the way everyone liked you in an instant. Mostly, he didn't like how he felt after getting a glimpse of you. He didn't like that he was so intrigued by you and how he wanted to know you. He didn't like how his eyes would linger on you during daily CCTV camera inspection a little longer than necessary.

Bucky just wanted to get his stuff and go back to his place as soon as possible. He didn't expect anything when he walked through the door, he specifically didn't expect his nemesis assaulting his employee.

After shoving Rumlow out of his club and away from you, the mob boss instantly made his way towards you. Bucky didn't know how to approach or console you. He couldn't touch you, he was aware that you wouldn't react positively to a man replacing the touch of a man who forced you. 

He stretched out his open palms towards you in surrender and submission, hoping that you'd realize he wasn't going to attack you.

"Hey, y/n." He gently called for you.

You flinched, but when you recognized the voice, you reluctantly opened your eyes to find his blue ones and outstretched palms in front of you.

"Hey, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Carefully, you placed your hands in his, and he held yours very lightly like he was scared that you'd break. Maybe he wasn't wrong. Softly, he started running his thumb in circles on your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, closing your eyes in regret.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have worn this," you could feel the tears streaming down your face, but you didn't want to face him. "It's all my fault "

In your head, you were convinced it was your fault and Mr. Barnes, your boss, is going to yell at you and fire you. You were preparing yourself for another blow that never came. 

"Hey, y/n. Please look at me."

Unwillingly, you did. 

"You listen to me very carefully. It wasn't your fault. The only person at fault here was that fucking asshole."

Bucky knew it was your trauma talking. He never forgot the resilient girl that kept dropping random movie references in a conversation with a mob boss. He thought maybe you didn't know, but both of you knew you were not naïve. He couldn't let your susceptible brain convince that strong girl that it was her fault, he desperately needed you to know it wasn't.

"No, I shouldn't have-"

"It's not your fault," he told you carefully, still maintaining eye contact. He knew you were in a vulnerable state, and he should not push you, but he also knew that your mind is going to conjure up stuff to deal with trauma. He couldn't let your mind justify a heinous, vile act of a monster. "Do you understand that?"

Begrudgingly, you nodded, and Bucky finally let a breath out he knew he was holding.

"Is there someone I can contact? A partner or a family member?"

You shook your head and took your hand away from his grasp.

"Okay, so here's what we're going to do. I'm going to take you home and we are going to talk about this in the morning. We'll take further steps when you're feeling a little better," he planned. "Does this sound okay?"

Bucky understood your nod as a yes and proceeded further," Doll, you gotta let me in, please. I can't take you home if you don't talk to me."

You blinked a few times, trying to ground yourself. Finally, you took your phone out of your back pocket and handed him the device with your address on the screen. He took it from you and without saying another word he started moving towards the door and you followed.

The mob boss would never accept this to anyone, but he frequently kept looking over his shoulder until you were seated in his car. He kneeled down and put the seatbelt on you before making his way towards the driver's seat, but when you flinched at the contact of his skin with yours, it made his heart ache.

The car ride was silent, which you didn't know whether to appreciate or not. On one hand, silence can be deafening, leaving you alone with your thoughts. On the other hand, noises can be annoying. So you settled with humming a Taylor Swift song and Bucky didn't say anything. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but every 5 seconds he would glance your way.

After reaching your home, Bucky stayed in the living room while you got dressed in your bedroom. You called for him when you were finally settled in the comfort of the silk bedsheet you brought last week. Bucky tucked you in bed, making sure that you were comfortable and he was about to leave, but you broke the silence at last.

"What happens next?" you asked.

"If you feel comfortable, then we'll talk about this tomorrow," he informed you. "But I swear to God, doll, I will make him suffer for what he did to you."

You didn't know what that meant, so you just nodded.

"I'm going to lock the door behind me, doll. Sleep well." 

"Please stay," you murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

You didn't know whether he heard you or not. You didn't know whether he stayed or not, even if he heard you. You were too tired to check and before you knew it you were already asleep.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams  @akkinda10​

[mourntheantagonist]

They didn’t have a wedding. It would have only been symbolic anyway. Once thousands of dollars were thrown at a nice venue and food and fancy clothing and vows had been shared and they kissed after the “I do”s, there wouldn’t be a room they went into to fill out the marriage certificate.

Because there wouldn’t be one.

They could do the whole ceremony with rings and toasts and a declaration of undying love for each other at an alter, but in the eyes of the state the knot would stay untied.

But who needed a piece of paper anyway?

There was no wedding. There wasn’t even a proposal. Just one day, with seemingly nothing to prompt it, when asked about the man in the photo on his desk, Steve said it simply.

“That’s my husband.”

It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. He didn’t have a hand rushing to cover his mouth like he just said something he shouldn’t have, he didn’t even register exactly what he had said until the man who had asked the question was standing very still, looking very confused wondering if he’d missed that segment of the news where they had finally made it legal. Steve cleared it up for him, explained how it’s symbolic rather than literal and the man just nodded his head, didn’t need further explanation before stealing a chip from the bag on Steve’s desk and walking off to wherever he was headed to next.

So Steve continued to call Billy his husband, because in all essence he was. They had a home together. They had a life together. They shared a bed every night and cooked each other meals and complained when the other forgot to fill up the gas tank on the way home. They stressed over bills together and they got through the tough times together. They were married in every way that it counted.

Only days after that moment in his office, he says it to Billy. They are in bed with all the lights off, getting ready for sleep. Steve is spooning Billy and his face is buried into his hair and tickling his nose.

“Goodnight my gorgeous husband.”

Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t planned it. Had the phrase ready on his tongue hoping desperately that Billy would like it considering he’s already told half of his coworkers that the man in the photo was his husband.

Billy turned over with the biggest smile on his face that Steve had ever seen.

“Husband, huh? Does that make me Mr. Harrington?”

Steve took Billy’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I suppose it does. Does that make me Mr. Hargrove?”

“Absolutely not.” Billy replied. “I think the biggest fuck you to Neil would definitely be permanently cutting off his lineage.”

“Then we’ll be the Harrington’s.” Steve said, bringing Billy’s knuckles to his lips and planting a soft kiss to them. “But first we’ve got to get us some rings don’t you think?”

They went to the jewelers the next day. Well actually, two jewelers since the first turned them away as soon as they figured out who they were buying for. The second place has nicer stuff anyways. Billy and Steve picked out each other’s rings, but both of them were heavily hinting at the one they wanted with loud expressions like “I really like this one with the gold band, but I don’t think it’s very suited for Steve.”

They celebrated with a bottle of champagne and held each other’s hands across the dinner table for what seemed like forever, both of them gently tracing over the brand new rings that decorated both of their left ring fingers.

In lieu of a proposal and a wedding, they did everything low key and for themselves, by themselves. Which was great, but caused them to forget that without those, there was no grand announcement. The only people who knew were half of Steve’s coworkers and the lady who sold them their rings, and surely enough she didn’t really care.

The people who didn’t know? That was everyone else. It wasn’t like they were actively keeping it a secret. They just simply forgot about it until Joyce and Hopper had come to visit them one day when they took a vacation together to California. Joyce almost instantly noticed the ring on Steve’s finger and before even saying hello she screamed

“You two got Married!!? And you didn’t tell me!!?”

She’s got Steve’s hand in hers and she’s staring at the silver ring on his finger in awe.

“We didn’t get married. We just kind of decided we already were.”

“Well congratulations boys!” She said, but that wouldn’t be the end of it. During their visit she would grill them with questions and learn that there was no wedding and Billy hadn’t even went and legally changed his last name yet. She learned how her and Hopper were kind of the first to know that actually mattered, and Joyce simply would not have it.

Two months down the road, Steve and Billy would receive a letter in the mail. An invitation for Hopper and Joyce’s wedding in Hawkins, which was definitely odd considering Joyce was insistent on not getting married again. But they brushed it off, packed their bags, and bought two plane tickets to Indiana because they were well overdue for a visit anyway.

They were holding it at the Byers house which they both agreed was very cute. The place where it all started for them, even if it was under strange and unsettling circumstances, though when they pulled up, they expected to see the exterior of the house decorated for a wedding. They expected to see an aisle with chairs on either side and they expected to see a lot more people than who were actually there. The house looked just like it did when they had left it seven years ago.

When they would walk inside, they would be met with a huge banner that read ‘Congratulations Mr. and Mr. Harrington’. There would be a cake with two male toppers and all their friends and family who had stuck by them through everything would be there. This wasn’t a wedding for Hopper and Joyce. It was a wedding for them.

“We don’t have a minister or anything, but you two deserved at the very least a party.” Joyce said.

There was an array of gifts on the table and Max was already hugging and punching Billy at the same time.

“How dare you not tell me first!”

Steve and Billy never understood why people had weddings. They didn’t need some big ceremony to validate their promise to each other. Their love was for them, it wasn’t just some show for others to watch.

But being surrounded by all the people who supported them through everything, stuck right by their side and watched them grow, they understood it instantly.

[spice-chan]

Massage me down there

 husband!yandere!bakugou x reader

 When your husband gets upset at the lack of attention you were giving him, you make it up to him by giving him the best massage of his life. 

wordcount- 5 k 

warnings : sub baku, slightly yandere tendencies, yandere baku ( its all fluffy af tho), nsfw, blowjob, eating out, sex. 

for mature viewers only. 

first smut so pls be gentle. tumblr was such a bitch and wouldn't let me post this but here we are. 

…...…......………...…...….

Bakugou walked in, his muscles and arms aching from a long day of hero work. He twisted the key and turned the doorknob, opening the door to be assaulted by the familiar warm scent of home.

You used some air fresheners that made sure the house always smelt welcoming pleasant. He wasn’t sure what scent, but he knows the smell well enough.

He took his shoes off, irked that you didn’t come to welcome him like you usually would.  His bad mood seeped out into his face, translating into a well known scowl on his handsome features. 

A tick appeared on his forehead when he heard the tv.

‘What the fuck, or who the fuck, had your attention?’

He took his shoes off and changed out of his hero suit, putting his gauntlets aside and somewhere safe. He doesn’t want those near you.

He showered quickly and wore some shorts, leaving his hair to air dry opting to go shirtless, leaving his toned and muscled packs out on display. He was still warm from his shower, and his flushed and damp appearance was sure to re-catch your attention.

He left the shared room and walked into the leaving room, nearly steaming again when he wasn’t acknowledged and looking into the TV, expecting something equally infuriating, but only finding some furry movie. He tsk, although relieved it wasn’t some pesky actor stealing your attention.

He took in your appearance, finding that you looked gorgeous in some oversized shirt of his and some baggy, grey shorts, which left most of your legs teasingly out. He would have jumped you, but quickly remembered why he couldn’t to begin with.

You looked so sweet sitting there in some oversized shirt watching a cartoon movie tho-

No. He was mad at you.

He flopped down on the couch, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at you grumpily. You jumped up in surprise the moment the couch dipped, looking next to you frantically only to see your husband sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

Your face brightened into a happy smile, quickly sliding to him and enveloping his steam warm body in a hug. You slid on his lap, trying to kiss him on the lips, which failed when he turned his head, ending up as a mere peck.

You frowned at that, but it hurt Katsuki more than it hurt you. His heart felt heavy, having to reject one of your kisses, but it was for the better good.

You put your head on his chest, appreciatiating the firm and sculpted feel of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got home ? I didn’t hear you at all !” You exclaimed with a frown. Sad at missing your opportunity of kissing him at the door like your ritual usually went. Is that why he seemed to be in a mood ?

Bakugo scoffed, resisting the urge to put his hands on you.” You would’ve if you weren’t so distracted with some-some furry movie !” He yelled way to loudly, but you knew he wasn’t really angry, at least not mad angry. He’s just sulking. You didn’t know, but when you didn’t even acknowledge him slightly while he got home and showered some spark of possessiveness went off. The familiar feeling of being threatened wasn’t that far after all.

But the sound of the main character interacting with the fox made your ears perk. Since Katsuki is upset right now, he can wait a bit more.

You easily escaped his grasp since Bakugo opted to not touch you.

You settled near him, not as far, but not as close as before. Bakugo felt your warmth leave, and it felt like the heat from his very own body was sapped.

His grumpy pout turned to a sad, dejected one, and his eyes slowly lost his hardness as he looked at your distracted form beside him.

Anger slowly started brewing inside him again, tears springing to the corner of his eyes due to the overwhelming rage brewing in his chest.

‘How dare you ignore him like this ? Especially when he was upset at you. If you were upset at him Bakugo would coddle you until you relented. Fine, ignore him.’

Your attention snapped when you felt Katsuki get up from the couch, watching his figure stomp away to the room. You cringed when you heard the door bang.

You saw the movie had a few minutes left, and debated whether you should go to Katsuki or finish it first. This might take a while, so movie first it is.

Right as the movie was about to finish, you heated up some oils, having thought of the perfect bribery plan. Bakugou hates it when you don’t pay attention to him or dismiss him, and you wouldn’t have, but the movie was so engaging and you wanted to watch it for a long time !

You quickly put the oils in a tray and carried it back to your room. You balanced the tray in one hand while your other turned the doorknob, walking inside the bedroom to find Katsuki laying on his side on the bed on his belly.

You walked to him, putting the oils on the running heater one by one to make sure they remain warm to ensure Katsuki can enjoy this as much as possible.

Katsuki looked up slowly, not wanting to show his interest in what you brought with you, but intrigue got the best of him when he smelt natural scents near him. He quickly turned his face away when he saw you walk to him. You crouched down besides him, making him smell your perfume, and want to look at your adorable face, grab -

“Suki, you’re mad at me right ?” You asked softly, trying to set the mood while your hand tangled in his untamable spikes.

Katsuki wanted to shout, to push your hand away and melt in his own pettiness, but he couldn’t help the tiny rush of ecstasy as your small hand slowly caressed his roots, the true euphoria being that you came to make up with him. You must love him after all then ?

“Tsk, go back to your shitty movie.” He grumbled, his lips set in a pout as he lifted his face to glare at you.

You tried kissing him before he turned around again, but he predicted her actions and turned around before the kiss reached it’s destination. He quickly regretted his decision becasue after you ended up kissing his cheek again, he really craved to have your luscious lips make contact with his…

He must stay strong. He already saw the oils, and had a half mind to reject your offer, but he was scared you really will take his word for it.

“What’s with the oils ?” He questioned gruffly, slightly muffled by the pillows.

You beamed, ripping the blanket off his body, which he seemed to cocoon himself in, and made yourself comfortable beside him.

“I’m giving you a full body massage, head to toe ! My hero must be sore from working hard all day.” You said adoringly, despite Bakugo thinking he’s the coddler in the relationship, you loved doting on him too, and bought all of this to use on him.

Katsuki was going to make some snarky remark, but your soothing hands on his scalp made him clamp shut. Your rhythmic motions and soft touches made Bakugou sigh, her fingers playing with his hair gently with the room dimly lit made him relax and his heart beat slowed as his eyelids drooped in lethargy. Your fingers didn’t leave one root on his head untouched. You grinned in victory seeing your adorable husband about to fall asleep and you barely even started.

The true comfort to Katsuki came in knowing that Bakugou had your full attention. But his half lidded eyes sprung open when he felt your hands leave his spiky blond hair. He was about to grab your hand to pull you back to him when he noticed you walk towards the oils, grabbing them and placing them on the lamp stand besides the bed so you can easily reach them without moving.

You settled yourself back on the bed, this time on Katsuki’s toned and perky ass.

Bakugo blushed, never too used to you being like this with him despite you guys being married and all that, it still feels as if you guys never even held hands before. At least to him. 

You reached out, grabbing one of the oils and pouring a generous amount on your palms, then rubbing them together. You put your hands on his shoulders and started to gently work on the knots, and Katsuki swears heaven is in your hands. He feels the heavy weight that every hero carries slowly melt away, the tenseness slowly dissipating as your hands continued massaging with the aid of the oil.

“How does it feel ?” You asked in a low, whispering voice. Katsuki could’ve missed it had it not being your voice.

He grunted, and you took it as a good enough response to keep working as you had been. Katsuki was so relaxed, he was becoming sleepy with the aid of the ambient light of the lamp, and your soothing touches stimulating his tactile senses. The only comforting touch he felt all day.

You felt that his shoulders were mellow enough, deciding to move on to his back. You grabbed another oil and spread a more generous amount this time, rubbing it between your palms. The warmth must’ve been really pleasant on his exhausted body, because his breath hitched not a second after your hands made contact with his back. You’re honestly a novice at this, having watched a few seconds of a massage video then gave up a few seconds in, but you guessed you were doing something right if the hitches of his breath were any proof.

You continued kneading at his back, admiring the scrumptious view of his muscular back beneath your fingers. Katsuki was lucky his face was not in your direction, or you would have seen the redness of his cheeks and ears, and the suggestive nature of his open mouth, which let out inaudible sounds every time you worked out a knot. His eyes were lidded, brighter than usual that the volcanic red of his eyes looked like harmless cherries.

Embarrassingly though, every knead you made caused his body to experience a sort of relaxed pleasure, the feel of your soft hands gently caressing his skin is bringing back memories……

He would never allow anyone else but you to touch him like this, just like he wouldn’t allow you to touch anyone else like that, or touch period. Just the thought made his brows furrow in annoyance until a moan came out when you touched a particularly sore spot. You paused for a second, having not expected that reaction. You went back to the same spot and got rewarded when his breath hitched.

Eventually, his back went like it was made anew, and you probably shared the sentiment because you whispered in his ear to turn around, afraid of disturbing him as he remained silent for so long. He could have fallen asleep, and he might’ve, your relaxing touch and dim lights where really helping.

However, he wanted more of this, so he pushed the drowsiness away and turned around for you. He thought you would wrap it up after doing his back, shoulders, and even his head, but was pleasantly surprised. That’s his darling, always going the extra mile for him. Little things like that remind him exactly why he adores you.

To be fair, he stopped being mad five minutes into the massage, if, however, it still gets you to dot on him then he will keep his mouth shut, but he still appreciates that you are doing this for him, considering how much carrying gauntlets and heroing all day tires him.

After choosing the oil, Bakugou half thought that you were going to resume your previous seating place, this time on his crotch. He was pleasantly surprised to be right. Katsuki blushed and turned around, huffing, knowing you can feel his semi erection. By the smirk you shot him, you were very aware.

Katsuki held his breath in, knowing the slightest movement of your hips will cause him to let out a titillating sound.

“Where do you think you’re sitting dumbass ?” He groaned out. You quirked an eyebrow, smirking downright sinfully.

“Your body doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.” You observed.

Halfway into worshipping the firm dips of his pectorals, you paused your ministrations, drawing the- once again- attention of a drowsy Katsuki.

You fanned yourself, and much to your husbands chagrin, took the oversized shirt off. Leaving you in your pretty, black  bralette which emphasized your bust. Katsuki gulped.

After catching Katsuki’s wondering eyes, you shot him a flirty smile. Your hands resumed their ministrations, but slowly traveled up to Katsuki’s chest, kneading at first, but then seized all movements, only to start softly caressing his milky neck.

You slowly lowered you upper body, making contact with Katsuki’s oiled front. He couldn’t keep his wondering eyes from admiring the exposed cleavage teasing his vision. You caught his stare, and leisurely unhooked it, sliding the straps off, one, and then the other, shrugging it off completely, making your soft tits touch his stomach. His hands itched to grab them, but your own left his neck and held his hands in place over his head. You moved until your mouth was near his ears, the movement reminded Bakugo of the slithering of a graceful and dangerous viper.

“Did you enjoy that baby ?” You whispered, voice no louder or lower than the one you used throughout the whole session, but somehow, with your soft chest touching his, hands holding his own in place and voice whispering in his ear, Katsuki’s blood rushed south.

He swallowed, having a theory that the blood in his brain must have gone down, because he felt way dumber than usual.

He nodded his head.

“Are you still mad at me honey ?” Whispered your honeyed voice.

“No.” Replied Katsuki, taking his upper lip between his teeth in frustration at the affect you have on him.

His cheeks flushed even more when you started nibbling at his earlobe, the sound way too close to his hearing range for comfort.

He really resembled that love sick look.

“Will you let me kiss you now Suki ?” You asked your final question, hands leaving his, granting him leeway to explore and move them as he pleases while your hands found their way back to his hair. Katsuki answered your question by pulling you closer and softly kissing your lips, his desires having finally been answered. He kept the kiss from getting aggressive, not wanting to destroy the mood, but the tantalising kiss was quickly becoming not enough. He desired all of you, he wanted your thoughts to be wholeheartedly consumed by him. His beefy hand tangled itself in your hair, biting your bottom lip and sucking it in order to deepen your kiss, but you had other ideas.

“Suki, can you put your tongue out for me ?” You asked innocently, Katsuki hesitated for a moment, confused as you’d never made a request like that before. He slowly stuck his pink muscle out.

You wasted no time, gently sucking it, grazing it with your teeth to add a bit of stimulation.

You didn’t prolong his pleasure however.

“I still have to finish your massage, sweetie. Lay back down and relax.” You whispered in a doting tone, gently pushing his chest flat into the bed. Katsuki widened his eyes, unable to believe you’d do that to him.

You’re really going to do this to him ? While you were shirtless too ?

His cock pulsated painfully, his hardness left untouched. You moved on to his arms, paying special attention to his aching wrists. This would have the epitome of comfort had he not had an erection, with you shirtless, nipples out and daring him to pinch, your hands softly oiling his body and rejuvinating him. He thanks his overwhelming self control, overwhelming though it may be, the impenetrable iron clad self control crumples and mellows like marshmallow around you.

To his dismay, yet utter relief, you took your time, knowing his hands are crucial for his quirk. After finishing up with his arm, you took his hand, his large, beefy one dwarfing your own. Jesus, even his fingers were thick.

You brought his hand closer to your mouth, and Katsuki thought you were going to take a finger in your mouth. Instead, you gave the webbed area at the base of his finger a tentative lick. Knowing this is the most sensitive part of his calloused hand. His erection strained against his shorts with renewed vigour. He bit his lip in order to follow your command and stay laid back, but God knows he wanted to push you back and ram into you. He felt more than saw when your naughty tongue stopped licking that area and traveled up to suck the tip of his finger. You licked it slowly, then took it in your mouth, sucking on it like you would something else.

Katsuki squeezed his thighs together desperately, unable to handle not getting friction. His other hand went palm his hard on, but you slapped that hand when it twitched to move, knowing you won’t like its destination. You bit his finger in a silent warning. Katsuki knew he couldn’t disobey a request of yours, no matter how hard or simple, so he fisted his hand to maintain his sanity while you deepthroated his finger. Braless.

You took his finger out of your mouth. It was slicken and glistening. Katsuki’s boxers were dampened.

Katsuki starred in utter horror as you moved on to the other arm, and nearly growled in frustration.

He couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Stop teasing me !” He shouted, the loudest noise that had been made since you entered the room.

You looked at him, mock obliviousness on your face.

You begun to massage the new arm, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Teasing you ? What are you talking about Suki ? I’m just trying to make you feel good.” You justified.

“Baka, massage me where I really want to be massaged.” He demanded. You put a finger on his lip. “Suki, don’t talk that loudly, you’ll destroy the mood. And tell me where you want me to massage honey, use your words. This is all about you remember?” You guessed it’s been enough teasing. Halfway through, you noticed the impending arousal Katsuki was experiencing, and decided this could take a turn in the other direction. He looked at you in hope, but clamped his mouth shut when he realized he’d have to ask you it.

“You know… baka.” He answered childishly, looking away.

“Of course, your arms really hurt don't they ? No worries.” You whispered, already grabbing the oils before Katsuki’s frustrated voice rung out.

“Please no, touch me… down there. Right now. You knew there would be consequences to touching me like that and looking like this” He finally relented. You o’d, nodding and caressing his hair, silently proud at him for saying what he really wanted. You relishes in the embarrassment blooming on his face, an adorable cherry red.

“Haha, you should have just said so from the start.” You scolded.

“I’ll start by massaging your legs then.”

Katsuki nearly growled in frustration. You weren’t going to do this to him right. You read that look on his face.

“Is that not what you want ? You said down there.”

He sucked in a breath. He gripped the sheets beneath his hand so tightly, his knuckles tirned white.

“Fine ! You want me to say it, I will. Massage…my cock. Spread oils all over it and touch it with your pretty hands and suck it like you did to my finger.” He retold all his fantasies, baring his soul out into the open. He craves you all the time, you just made his craving so much worse. Depriving him of your attention, then suddenly giving him an abundance of it but not giving him what he truly wants .

His heart fell when he saw the troubled look on your face. “Suki, you have to be patient. Then I promise you’ll get what you want.” Although you put up a front, you were aching for him, your underwear was damp no doubt.

You stood up, ignoring the frustrated look on his face. he is going to be patient  because you knew he wouldn’t ignore something you said. He never does, especially when he’s in this headspace. You took the blanket off his lower body. You slowly pulled his shorts off, amused by the wet patch you saw. Now his perky ass was clad in only some black boxer. You could see the straining erection, his underwear struggling to contain it, already dampened with the evidence of his arousal.

You debated for only a second.

You grabbed the waistband, Katsuki understanding the hint and lifting himself up slightly so you could take the material off. His enormous cock sprung out, the head an angry purple colour from the lack of attention. It was thick and girthy, and the length was nothing to laugh about either. It was a bit like Katsuki to be honest. Muscular and enormous. You loved how his masculine and sculpted figure fit in yours. It felt like he could protect you from the world.

You grabbed an oil, rubbing it in your palms before you began rubbing it on his thighs. Not before pressing a soft kiss on them and taking an adorable little bite. You massaged them both, careful not to touch where Katsuki desperately wanted you to touch. “Be patient Katsuki” you reminded him as you continued kneading his sculpted cream coloured thighs. Sometimes you’d get dangerously close to his centre, but not quite enough that Katsuki could experience the blessing of your touch. Enough was enough, however.

Katsuki breathed a sigh of relief when you stopped.

Katsuki’s body felt renewed, all his knots having been achingly soothed, his body smelt of fresh herbs and oils that left him smelling amazing, but the only oil he really craved was out of his reach at the moment. Not for long though.

You stood up from the bed and headed to one of your cupboards, already knowing none of those oils were tailored for that kind of use.

You went through the impressive amounts of flavoured lubes, then deciding on a water based watermelon one. Choosing was a struggle, knowing that your husband only bought you the best of the best.

You returned to an unmoved Katsuki, waving the lube at him in a goofy way. Shit, you were perfect, Katsuki will kill anyone that says you like this. Goods jiggling freely and showing the lube you were going to taste while sucking his cock.

You sat on the bed, spreading his legs to allow you to comfortably settle between them.

Fuck yes. Yes. Yes . “Yes”.

You took your own shorts off, leaving you in a delicious orange thong that did nothing to cover your delectable ass. The only thing keeping you from becoming fully naked.

You applied the lube on your hands, careful from putting too much.

Katsuki groaned audibly when your hands touched his cock, rubbing the tip, which was a painful purple colour, and then dipping your hands down. You pumped him, making sure not to go too fast, and applying special attention to all his sensitive spots. You squeezed his balls gently, then licked his tip, using the soft lower part of your tongue to stimulate him, then suddenly switching to the rougher part.

“Ah- ah- baby, where did you - you learn to do that ?!” Katsuki knew he wasn’t going to last long with your body out on display to him, and your mouth softly teasing him. You opened your mouth, taking him in one inch at a time. You hollow your cheeks, hearing a broken moan from Katsuki, followed by a groan as you bobbed your head up and down. You kept using your tongue and hands, not leaving any part of him untouched.

Katsuki felt like he was in heaven. Your naughty tongue did wonders on all his sensitive spots, humming every now and then, you must have liked the taste. You bobbed your head faster, Katsuki had to contain himself from face fucking you without care. Drool dripped down your chin and your hair was a mess, fuck, you were absolutely gorgeous.

The final push was seeing one of your hands leave his cock make its way to your underwear, sliding the pesky things down slowly, giving Katsuki a show. You were absolutely drenched.

You moaned around his length as you started to work on your clit. Then your fingers slipped inside you seamlessly,making erotic squelching sounds that he knows all too well and next thing Katsuki was crying out.

“Fuck, princess- I’m coming- ah, coming.” You bobbed your head with new found vigour, sucking and squeezing even when you felt his warm cream gush into your mouth.

“Teddy bear —“ he groaned, stopping mid sentence to let out the loudest moan moan you ever heard, with flushed cheeks, mouth ajar and watery cherry eyes. Henever took his eyes off you, drinking in the sight of you enthusiastically drinking his cum, not wanting to waste a single drop. You kept going, even when your eyes watered and your throat burned. You put both hands on his thighs to steady yourself, keeping your working mouth on his cock as you drank and drank. After it seemed like that was all, you took your mouth off and started giving licks all over his painfully sensitive cock, cleaning it of any remains. He tried complaining but you didn’t stop until the last drop was licked.

“How was that massage baby ?”

Katsuki was too busy catching breath to answer, but maybe that was all the answer you needed.

He wants to please you now, to satisfy you like you satisfied him.

One look at your naked body had his now flaccid cock springing back to life.

“I loved it babe, but now it’s your turn, c’mere.” He sprung up, grasping your legs and spreading them apart. He saw your thong between your knees, slipping it out slowly while laughing.

“Why wear this ? You might as well have been wearing nothing.” He mused, looking at the tiny orange thong.

“I wanted to seduce you, Suki.”

That made him ‘ah’, as he nodded amusedly. He threw it somewhere in the room, immensely glad that you wore it for him, for him, only him.

His tongue grazed your slit, not entering you. He wrapped his mouth around your clit and sucked. You fisted the sheets as the breath got knocked out of you. He ate you out vigorously,not giving you a moment to breath. His fingers rubbed your slit, teasing you while his mouth devoured you. Suddenly, his mouth traveled down to your slit, and his fingers went to rub your clit. He lapped up at the wetness, loving the taste of you. His hand left you to grab your leg and put it over his muscled shoulder for better access.

He met your eyes, giving you an arrogant smirk as his tongue teased you relentlessly, traveling up and down, circling your clit, but never quite wrapping around it and sucking like before.

“Suki, please, make me feel good.” You begged with tears in your eyes. Even though Katsuki wanted to tease you more, he couldn’t.

In no time, your thighs were shaking as the knot in your belly was threatening to burst.

“Stop” that one sentence had Katsuki detaching from your clit, looking troubled. A familiar insecure look.

Did he fail to make you feel good ? What did he do wrong ?

“What ?” He asked, wiping your love juices off his chin.

“I want to do it together this time Suki. It was too good, I couldn’t have lasted anymore if I didn’t stop you when I did.” You reassured him, watching the insecure look on his face vanish. Before, when you and Katsuki were merely dating, you were surprised by the way he behaved around you, but now, you were used to it- dare you say, you loved the way he values your words and attention. He made you feel like a queen, even though others would claim that time of love is overwhelming and suffocating.

He cradled you gently, kissing your head. What an adorable request, well, he couldn’t disappoint you now could he ?

He laid your head on the pillow, putting both of your legs over his shoulders letting you give his semi hardened length a few pumps. You were both lubed and ready enough, but Katsuki still took his time in entering you, not wanting to hurt you, he knew he wasn’t small by any means, not even close.

He loved positions like this, where he could look at your face and see how you were feeling. He was fully in you, and he could see that it wasn’t the most comfortable thing for you, so his thrusts were gentle at first. Soon, after he heard you become breathless and clenching around him, he started to become rougher, slamming into your G-spot.

You were so warm, and tight….

He pistoned into your welcoming honeypot. “Does it -ah—feel good ?” He asked, slowing down slightly so you could answer him.

“Yes Suki, don’t slow down ! Please rub my clit” you said guiding his hand where you wanted it and he obliged. He kept thrusting at his usual fast pace, your tits vibrate with every thrust, prompting him to finally pinch one. He rubbed your clit too, feeling you clench around him.

This is where he wanted to be all day, connected with his darling, making the both of you feel good.

He angled his thrusts to hit your G-spot, making your pleasure overwhelming, which naturally translated to his. His muscles contorted as he gave one final, powerful thrust, coming undone inside your warm centre. He kept stimulating you, and it didn’t take you long to join him in bless, milking him as you let out a sinful moan, pulling him closer to you, seeking his warmth amids being in the clouds. He kept riding you through your orgasm, eventually his thrusts becoming nothing more than shallow.

He felt satisfied beyond measure, slowly taking his cock out and seeing his semen leak. Be bent down, kissing you gently on the lips. “Did it feel good?” He asked, wanting reassurance that he did well. He did this every time despite it being more than obvious he did amazing.

“Amazing, did you like your massage though?” You questioned, making him scoff at your idiotic question.

“Damn right, best massage ever.”

He then cleaned you up, then with your bare bodies cuddling, you fell in deep sleep.

“I love you.” He whispered to your snoozing head on his naked chest.

“More than anything.” 

……….

Kofi

[ynscrazylife]

Hey?? I Recently found you and I most say that I adore your page, I saw that you write for Lena do you think that your write a request for her?. My idea is that Reader and Lena are in a relationship, but Lena has feeling for Kara so Reader decided to leave her, you decided if they go back together or not.

I Wasn’t Enough | l.l angst fic

Summary: Y/N and Lena are in love. However, when Y/N recognizes that Lena has feelings for Kara, their relationship gets put in jeopardy.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting! I never understand the want for angst

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PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

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Y/N hadn’t been able to contain her excitement when she was approved to work on an article on L-Corp and the woman behind it, Lena Luthor. She had found the woman’s story fascinating and wanted to shine some light on the shift from Luthor Corp to L-Corp, and this was her time to do so. 

The moment she set foot in Lena’s office, though, she knew she was screwed. 

She had seen the woman in pictures and watched her press conferences on T.V, but seeing the magnicant lady in person was a surreal experience, mostly because of how gorgeous she was. Y/N found herself instantly distracted, unable to keep from feeling dazed as she saw the brunette so graciously finish up typing whatever she was typing on her computer, stand up, and offer her the biggest, most charming smile Y/N had ever seen. 

“Hello! My friend, Kara Danvers, told me you were coming. I’m Lena Luthor, nice to meet you,” Lena’s voice which almost made Y/N swoon pulled her from her thoughts and she blinked, suddenly remembering what she was here for. 

(She couldn’t help but be in awe, though, because of how down to earth Lena was. She still introduced herself like a normal human even though of course, Y/N knew who she was!) 

“I’m, uh, Y/N Y/L/N! It’s nice to meet you, too, Ms Luthor - I, uh, apologize, I’m not usually this nervous,” she forced herself to say, lightly chuckling off the awkwardness. Crap, what was she doing?!

She shook Lena’s hand (and nearly fainted right then and there). “Oh, don’t apologize! No need to be nervous, darling - oh and you can just call me Lena,” Lena said, smiling and waving off Y/N’s concerns as she sat back at her desk.

Y/N had no clue what was going on. Lena seemed to have put a spell on her because the moment she said that, Y/N felt better about the interview, having been reassured, but then a whole new worry racked her body: Lena Luthor had just called her “darling”!!! The up and down of emotions was making her stomach do somersaults. 

The reporter took a couple deep breaths and cleared her throat so she wouldn’t vomit from being overwhelmed before sitting down in the chair across from Lena, beginning the interview. 

The rest was history and, seeing as they were both good friends of Kara’s, it wasn't long before she spilled the beans on her secret identity as Supergirl and the couple became unofficial members of the unofficial group, the Superfriends.

They were having their weekly game night, Lena sitting in an armchair with Y/N on her lap, Kara, James, and Alex on the couch, Winn on the floor, and J’onn in another armchair. Laugher and skies filled the room, accompanied with the faint smell of wine and the lipstick stains on the discarded glasses. 

“Damn, Luthor, you’re sneaky,” Kara grumbled as she fished in her pile of Monopoly money to get the correct amount she needed to pay Lena for landing on her property. 

Lena chuckled as Y/N took the fake money from Kara and handed it to her. “All apart of business, baby,” she commented. 

Everyone laughed it off, but Y/N tensed up. Was Lena flirting with Kara? She looked over her shoulder at her girlfriend and Lena furrowed her eyebrows before a look of realization washed over her face. She quickly shook her head, indicating that the nickname was harmless, and kissed Y/N’s cheek.

Y/N brushed it aside. It was just a meaningless comment. She slumped her tense shoulders, forcing her mind not to wander to the many “What If’s” that could possibly happen. What if it wasn't just a comment? What if-?

“Your turn, Y/N!” 

Y/N blinked, taking a second to realize what Alex said, and jumped up to grab the dice (she would have fallen off Lena’s lap had the brunette not wrapped her arms around her, and Y/N relaxed at her touch. 

She rolled it around in her hands before dropping it and moving her piece to her own property which she had landed on. As the game continued on, everything was normal. However, it was impossible for Y/N to miss the small talk Lena would occasionally make with Kara and how her comments were just on the line between cautious and flirtatious. She also noticed every time Lena would practically be giving the blonde heart eyes, but just tried to ignore it, telling herself that she’d talk to Lena later and everything would turn out fine. 

. . .  . . .  . . .   

“Lena, can I talk to you?” Y/N asked as they sat down for breakfast, both drinking coffee on the late Saturday morning. 

Lena glanced up from the newspaper she was reading and hummed an enthusiastic nod before taking a sip from her mug. 

Y/N nodded, eyes falling onto the table as she thought for a moment to sort out her thoughts. Taking a couple steady breaths, she asked, “Please don't take this the wrong way . . . Are you attracted to Kara?” 

Lena blinked, staring at her for a second before realizing she was serious. The CEO shook her head, forcing out a chuckle. “What? No. What makes you think that?” She said. 

Y/N couldn’t decide whether or not to be relived. She sighed. “Just some things you were saying and looks you were giving her last night,” she muttered. 

Lena scoffed, biting her lip before shaking her head more decidedly. “Do you really not trust me?” She spat out in a hiss, making Y/N recoil from the sudden harshness.

“What?” Was the only thing Y/N could say as she was dumbfounded.

Lena nodded slowly. “Why did I actually think that you’d be any different from everyone else in my life? You don’t trust me! You think I like Kara!” She said, on the verge of anger overtaking her. She pushed her chair back and stood up.

Y/N shook her head, needing a minute to process what was happening. “I didn’t mean it like that-” she began to say.

“Uh-huh,” Lena retorted mockingly. “I wasn’t planning on going into L-Corp today but I need to cool off.”

Before Y/N had even gotten out of the kitchen to follow her, she was met with the slam of the door bouncing off her walls. She stood, stunned.

What the hell had happened?

She spent the rest of the day in distress, replaying the argument over and over again in her head and each time it got worse. Each time in her mind Lena glared a little harder, was even more ruthless in her tone, or the door slamming was louder. Lena also let her phone calls go to voicemail, leaving Y/N in her thoughts. Was Lena right? Did she not trust her girlfriend? Or did she catch something that Lena didn’t even know about herself?

Did Lena like Kara?

She couldn’t decide.

When the keys were finally jingling in the door, Y/N jumped up from their bed and ran out to meet her girlfriend, her cheeks stained with tear streaks.

Lena didn’t look to happy, either. Her eyes were a little red and puffy and she was frowning.

“I did a lot of thinking today . . . And I talked to Kara,” Lena said, cutting immediately to the point. Her words, combined with her low and defeated tone, gave Y/N a sinking feeling in her stomach. “I’ve suppressed these feelings for a while, I realized, but . . . You were right. I like Kara. And . . . She likes me, too.”

Y/N felt like she was just hit with a truck. “What are you saying?” She asked, voice cracking from emotion as she sniffed and could feel big tears bubbling. “Are you planning to leave me for her?”

Lena didn’t look at her. She kept her gaze on the floor and opened her mouth to say something, which gave Y/N the slightest amount of hope, before it was ripped away from her when Lena stifled a sigh and shut her mouth.

There were a couple moments of silence that just pounded against Y/N’s head. “I should have know that I wasn’t enough for the CEO of L-Corp. That you’d want Supergirl,” she finally settled on saying. It was just filled with disappointment, sadness, and anger, lacking in bitterness or pity, as she realized that the fear she had ignored that Lena would fall for Kara was now painfully coming to life.

“I guess I’ll go pack my things,” Y/N continued, feeling lost and without any hope at all when Lena didn’t say anything, didn’t even try and tell her she was wrong. She sniffed and stomped her foot when her girlfriend was just content for her to walk away. “It’s good I didn’t sell my apartment yet. We’re done.”

With a glare, she turned around and angrily threw all her belongings into suitcases while Lena stood in the same exact spot, looking at the floor.