#I’m going to combust seeing this live in a few months

[hotcinnamonsunset]

cause of death: vibrating out of my skin listening to self respect by bleachers

[paarksunghoon]

DEEP HONEY | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.

NOTES: felt some type of way and naturally i need a hug from sunghoon. best i can do is write about it.

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: angst, typical rough day stuff and typos, probably.

MASTERLIST

***

Your car comes to a complete halt when you situate yourself on the curb of Lee Heeseung’s apartment. The rumble of the pavement beneath your tires ceases to amplify the slight movement that naturally shakes your car seats and you sit in the driver’s side like you’re a zombie.

The muggy atmosphere from the heat attempting to displace the freezing air makes your skin feel sticky and gross as you turn your engine off. The overhead lights temporarily blind you as you stare ahead into the dark night and feel the tension building up in your body.

Your jaw clenches and your cheeks become warm with the sheer amount of frustration seeping into your bones. The cold sweat you harbor makes you feel hot and freezing at the same time. The coolness of your glass window does nothing to quell your body’s temperature.

The familiar two-story house beside you is where Heeseung lives. He rents the bottom property and has lived with Park Jongseong ever since you all collectively started the last year of university.

You don’t necessarily want to be here. Coming to Heeseung’s apartment because you feel like you might combust at any minute seems like an invasion of privacy. Your boyfriend Sunghoon had let you know that he was sleeping over at his friends’ apartment tonight and you had no qualms with the proposition. He deserved to have his time with his friends too. Although it seems that your mind has its own agenda and you find yourself in front of Heeseung’s place in no time.

You step out of the car and lock it. Your feet carry you around the hood and you step onto the hard sidewalk with a slight wobble. The air is chilling, throwing a stark shiver down your spine as you huddle in your arms for warmth. The jacket you have sprawled on the backseat looks at you with concern.

You’re a step away from ringing the doorbell but your finger hovers the white button as tears well up in your eyes. The feeling of desperation and burden weigh on your chest as you listen to the muffled laughter that comes from Heeseung’s living room. Sunghoon hadn’t seen his friends in a few weeks between classes, work, and you. The last thing you want to do is impede on his time with his friends when you’ve spent the better half of this month glued to his side.

But you can’t help it. Your nose feels like it could be burning from the cold and the weather forces you to ring Heeseung’s doorbell when it ripples through your shirt. You hear him padding to the front door and can make out his figure from the bottom, his shadow blocking the light from inside.

Heeseung opens it just slightly ajar to assess who’s standing outside his apartment at this late hour. When he opens it, seeing you standing in the cold with red eyes and no jacket makes him panic.

“Y/N?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

You think he might close the door with the look of confusion on his face but he opens it wider to allow you into his apartment. He shuts it quickly behind him and notices your chattering teeth, eyes softening at the sound when you look up at him. Heeseung watches your eyes begin to water and puts a hand on your upper back to soothe your emotions, but it makes you spill a few tears.

“I-I’m sorry for coming here,” you hiccup. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can always come over if you need something.”

You speak faster than you can think. “Today was so awful.”

Heeseung purses his lips and tells you to stay put. You watch him retreat into the living room and stare at the wall clock in front of you until you hear Heeseung say, “Hoon, your girl’s here.”

Sunghoon hears the worry in his friend’s voice because he stands up from the couch like he’s on a mission. With his eyebrows furrowed and heart beating in his chest, Sunghoon follows Heeseung to the front door and is immediately presented with you.

You look nothing like the happy-go-lucky girlfriend he said goodbye to before heading over to Heeseung’s. This morning, you’d woken up next to Sunghoon and he’d given you a tender kiss before heading to spend the day with his friends. Now, your eyes are swollen and your cheeks are stained with salty tears.

His heart plummets when he sees you standing in Heeseung’s doorway with no jacket on. You look helpless in a way he doesn’t see very often. Your knees buckle in your pants and the goosebumps on your arms are prominent to his eye.

Sunghoon wastes no time and envelopes you in a hug, pulling you into his chest until your face is situated in his neck.

“Baby?” he asks, feeling your hot breaths against his skin. “Talk to me. What happened? You’re so cold. Where’s your jacket? Did you bring one?”

His deep, honey-like voice that utter sweet concern only makes you cry harder. You try to keep your chokes and sobs as quiet as possible but the hiccups emitting from your throat make it impossible. You try to ignore the fact that Sunghoon’s friends can likely hear you weeping, instead focusing on your boyfriend’s warmth.

His arms encircle your body, one hand protectively around your waist and the other secured behind you. Sunghoon’s hands cup the back of your head and he strokes his fingers through your head lovingly.

“I had a bad day.” Your broken whispers makes Sunghoon’s heart sink even further. He pushes your hair out of the way and kisses your temple with plump lips.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rethinking the events that led to your arrival at Heeseung’s place only fuels your tears and you shut your eyes, burying yourself further into your boyfriend’s neck.

Heeseung, helplessly standing around the corner, walks closer to tell him the two of you could use his bedroom. Sunghoon rubs the small of your back and slowly walks towards the room, guiding you inside without so much as a word spoken. Heeseung closes the door behind you two and Sunghoon immediately perches the two of you on the edge of his bed.

“My baby.” Sunghoon lifts your head and pushes the tears underneath your eyes away with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s got you upset, hm? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you choke. “I’m not hurt.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Sunghoon pulls you into his chest and further onto Heeseung’s bed when you give into him. He lets you cry against him, not caring that his shirt is becoming damp as the seconds pass by. His palm soothes the entirety of your back and he kisses the crown of your head, periodically squeezing you tighter when his heart breaks at the sound of your sobs.

“Life is so hard,” you say into his chest. “I feel overwhelmed and scared.”

“Scared of what, baby?”

“I don’t know. Everything? I had the worst shift at work today. A customer ordered a hot coffee but I made it iced by accident and instead of letting me remake it for her, she involved my manager and was making a scene in front of everybody there.”

“I’m sorry.” Sunghoon whispers against your temple and kisses it again. “That’s frustrating.”

“My manager tried to get her to leave but she was pushy. Usually I could handle that but I’m overwhelmed with school and my senior project that I just broke down when the manager sent me home.”

“Your manager doesn’t think you’re at fault, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing like that. He said I looked like I needed some rest and told me to take the rest of the night off.”

“Thank God.” He squeezes you tighter. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. You shouldn’t have to put up with mean people who get mad at you for making a small mistake.”

“Everybody is so fucking mean, Hoon.” You roughly push away the tears from your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I’m tired of everybody expecting so much from me. Between work, school, and my parents asking me what job I’ll have after graduating, it’s all too much.”

Sunghoon coos. “You’re so precious, you know that? You’re dealing with so much and you’re allowed to cry about it. I’m sorry everything is affecting you like this.”

“Sorry for ruining your boys night,” you sniffle. “I feel awful that I took you away from your friends.”

Your boyfriend shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. I’d come to you in a heartbeat if you called.”

His words only make you cry harder. Sunghoon is the perfect boyfriend. He dotes on you like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved in his entire life and lets you know how beautiful you are any chance he gets. He gets along with your friends and family, welcomes you into his own life, and makes you feel like you can achieve anything whether he’s in the picture or not.

Being with him has made you feel safer than you have in a long time. His arms provide the kind of comfort you’ve always been seeking and despite the amount of frustration and sadness in your body, it seems to be melting away with every kiss Sunghoon puts on your forehead.

Heeseung knocks gently and opens the door just slightly. You feel silly being held like a baby in front of Sunghoon’s friends who you’ve met only once before. It was at Heeseung’s house that you first met the three guys Sunghoon is closest to after they made an effort to invite you over to a night at the local dive bar before coming back to watch a marathon of Marvel movies. Your love for Iron Man catapulted the start of your friendship with Heeseung in particular and Sunghoon was starting to love how well you fit into his life.

“It’s been a while and I wanted to check in. You doin’ okay?”

You sniffle and hold onto Sunghoon’s arm. “Bad day. Everybody sucks.”

Heeseung laughs. “Preaching to the choir.” You immediately realize you neglected to take your shoes off when entering the apartment and scold yourself for bringing dirt onto his hardwood floors.

“Shit,” you say, pulling your legs higher so they’re farther from the surface. “I’m so sorry Heeseung. I’m sorry for barging in.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Take them off, I’ll put them by the door.”

You oblige. Sunghoon holds you to balance your body as you hand each sneaker to Heeseung, who doesn’t look at you weirdly or scold you for interrupting his time with your boyfriend. Instead, he smiles at you and lets you know Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun, another one of Sunghoon’s friends that you met during the movie night, are outside and concerned for you.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” Sunghoon tells you as Heeseung closes the door behind him for a second time. “But they really like you and I know they care about you.”

“I only met them once,” you hiccup, toying with the hem attached to the bottom of his shirt. “How could they possibly like me?”

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your cheek. “I talk about you all the time. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you and would rather hang out with you instead.”

“You do?”

He nods. “Mhm. I have the best girlfriend in the world, you know. They had a lot of fun getting to know you and were planning on inviting you to a barbecue Jongseong’s having next weekend.”

“Really?”

Your doe-like eyes makes Sunghoon’s heart melt. He nods and kisses your nose. “Yes, baby. They love you. Not as much as I do, but a close second.” Hearing you laugh makes him breathe easier.

“I still feel bad for ruining your guys’ night,” you say with a pout.

Sunghoon eases your mind and presses a tender kiss to your lips to displace said pout. “We’ve all been there. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go back to your place and sleep?”

You shake your head. “This is your night. I don’t want to interrupt and make things awkward.”

“Why don’t we at least get you some water. You don’t have to say anything but at least drink something so you’re not dehydrated.” You don’t want to get up and face the embarrassment of the other three boys seeing you cry, but you know Sunghoon is right. After all the crying you’ve done, you’re feeling parched.

You nod and stand from him, all while he still has one hand in yours. Moments like this make you appreciate Sunghoon even more than you already do. He’s willing to do anything for you at the drop of a hat and it gives you butterflies when you remember this handsome, generous man is your boyfriend.

Jongseong and Jaeyun look at you with concerned eyes when you meet them outside. You try to speak but your mouth keeps opening and closing as you find the words to say.

“I’m okay,” you tell them. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Jongseong hands you a glass of water. “Don’t sweat it, Y/N. Everyone has bad days.”

“Yeah, but you guys haven’t seen Hoon in forever and this was supposed to be your weekend.” Your sincere apology and the cracks in your voice make Jaeyun’s eyes water too.

“It’s alright,” he tells you sincerely. “We love hanging out with you. You should stay and we can watch movies. We were gonna do that anyway.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Jongseong and I want you to stay,” Heeseung says. The two of them nod. “You shouldn’t be alone when you feel like this.”

“Fuck,” you say, voice cracking to the point where it makes you laugh. The four boys laugh as well and feel the relief in the air around them. “You guys are too nice.”

“We were gonna order takeout too,” Jongseong says, pulling his phone out. “We were thinking maybe fried chicken but Hoon says you love Thai food. Why don’t we order stuff from the place around the block and eat it family style?”

“Oh, you don’t have to change it for me.”

Jongseong waves you off. “Nah. We all love Thai. Any excuse to eat it.”

“And don’t think about paying us back,” Jaeyun says with a genuine smile. “I’ll pay for it.”

“We’ll split it by four,” Heeseung adds.

Jongseong lets you put in your order and everybody else follows suit. Sunghoon has you tucked underneath his chin as the whole ordeal happens and kisses the side of your face every so often.

“Feel better?” He asks, mouth against your ear. His warm breath is comforting, as to remind you that he’ll always be there for you.

“Much better.” Your voice is no longer brittle from your cries. Sunghoon smiles.

“My sweet baby,” he coos. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“What about when I’m not crying?”

“Still pretty.” He squishes your cheeks with his hands and pressed a kiss to your fattened lips. “Adorable, even.”

Jaeyun looks at the two of you and laughs. He can only hope that he’ll feel like that with someone someday. It compels him to say something.

“You guys are stupid cute.”

Sunghoon says nothing. He smiles at his friend and squeezes you tighter. Having him to lean back on makes you feel like you might be the luckiest girl in the world.

***

comments and reblogs would be appreciated! xx

[pleasuretrade]

hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.

if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months

March x Healy

Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??

Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn

Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea

Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans

 The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.

“March, did you write that down?”

 Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”

“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”

“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.

 Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”

 Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL

“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.

 Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.

“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.

 Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.

-

 “There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.

 Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”

“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”

“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”

“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”

“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.

“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”

“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.

“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.

“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”

 Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”

“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”

 Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).

“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”

-

“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.

“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.

 Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.

“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.

“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”

“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.

“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”

“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”

“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.

“Yeah, puce carpet.”

 Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”

“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.

“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.

“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.

 March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.

 Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.

“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”

 Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.

 March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”

 Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.

 It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.

“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”

 March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”

“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”

“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.

 Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.

-

 The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.

“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.

“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”

“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?

“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.

“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”

“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.

“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”

“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”

 March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.

 Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.

 The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.

 The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.

 The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.

“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.

“What—what, you see something?”

 A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.

 The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”

“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”

 Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”

[vodika-vibes]

Hi,

You knew it was coming. 😂. Request for Darman with "God, you feel so fucking good." And Don't be gentle with me-I like it when you're rough."

Hesitant Darman at first then not hesitant.

You can pick an existing fic or a new one.

Please and thank.💕

A Surprise

Summary: Darman returns from a mission, and you decide to surprise him in the hopes of getting what you want.

Pairing: Darman Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 1176

Warnings: Smutty, though there's no penetration

Tagging: @n0vqni

A/N: Sorry this took so long! And I had to alter the prompts, just a little, to make them work. They're bolded. And thank you so much for the request!

You’ve been dating Darman for months now, and he seems more than happy to move at the pace of frozen molasses. Oh sure, his kisses involve more teeth and tongue than any chaste kiss would, and sure, he’s brought you to bed on a few occasions, but it’s been just that…few.

And honestly, you’re at your wits end.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s pathetically head over heels in love with you, you’d think that he was just jerking you around. Which he’s not. The way he looks at you sometimes, when he thinks you're not looking, when he thinks you’re not paying attention…well, it’s enough to make heat shoot to your core.

There’s something feral lurking behind Darman’s genial nature and you want it more than you’ve wanted anything in your life.

Which would be utterly humiliating if you had to say that to anyone. But you don’t have to say anything. Not really. You are confident enough, maybe, in yourself to push Darman, just enough, to give you what you want.

You just need a plan.

And, you know, to not spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

No problem.

Easy as pie.

**********

Your chance comes sooner than you thought it might.

You spend a whole two weeks, two weeks that Darman’s away on a mission, coming up with a plan, and working out the kinks in your brain, and when he returns, exhausted and bruised, you meet him in his room.

Everything about you is carefully designed to push him, just a little bit.

The robe you’re wearing is the softest silk you’ve ever felt (and cost more than the entirety of your wardrobe combined) and your lingerie is also silky and in the colors he likes to see you in. Hell, even your hair has been perfectly styled in the way he prefers.

Are you going a little too hard? Maybe. But he has his armor and you have yours.

You greet him with a smile, and he pauses in the door. His gaze darts from your hair, to your robe, to the way the robe creeps up your thighs as you cross your legs at the knees, and he swallows, hard.

He steps further into the room, and allows the door to slide shut behind him, and he takes a careful moment to lock the door. Darman hasn’t once taken his gaze off your thighs.

Your smile broadens, “Welcome home, Dar.” You say warmly.

“This is quite a welcome,” He agrees, his voice rough. He pauses several feet away from you and starts to pull off his armor, his gaze locked on you. Of course, he doesn’t need to see the clasps to his armor to remove it. “That looks new.”

You smile broadly, “It is new. So is what I’m wearing under it.” His fingers fumble on the clasp to his chest piece, and you feel a surge of triumph.

Darman’s gaze snaps to the belt holding your robe shut, “What are you wearing under it?” He asks, almost nonchalantly. You’d believe that he wasn’t curious, if it wasn’t for how rapidly he’s removing his armor.

You hum thoughtfully, “Well…” You drag the word out teasingly, “You’ll just have to unwrap me and see, won’t you.”

His fingers slip on another clasp, “Holy shit, cyare.”

“Of course,” You say as if he hadn’t spoken, “If you’re too exhausted, I can always go back to my room.”

“Exhausted? Who’s exhausted?” He finally rips off the last of his armor and tosses it, unconcerned, to the side, “I’m suddenly very, very awake.”

You laugh and stand smoothly and walk over to him, you even practiced this part, and Darman can never find out. You’ll never live it down if he does.

His hands settle on your hips, his touch feather light, as though worried that he might ruin the delicate material covering your body, he releases a slow exhale, “Soft…” Darman murmurs, and his fingers dip to the tie around your waist, “Can I?”

You just smile at him and slide your hands under his shirt so that you’re able to glide your hands over his stomach. 

Darman, rightfully, takes that as permission, and he lightly tugs on the string, allowing the robe to fall open, revealing your body to his searching gaze.

The lingerie you chose not only is in his colors, but it’s also very sheer and very lacy, and for a moment he just stops. Stops moving, stops thinking, stops breathing.

“Holy shit, babe. I feel very underdressed all of a sudden.”

You giggle, and allow the robe to slide to the ground, before you twist for him, “Do you like it?”

“You look…holy shit…I don’t even have words for how good you look-” He trails off, “Did you do all this for me?”

“I missed you,” You say lightly, “And…I might have had a plan.”

“Please tell me this plan involves you riding me until I’m speechless?”

“Hm…not quite.” You say with a laugh, you reach up and slowly trail your fingers against his jaw.

“What’s your plan then?” He asks, his hands settling lightly on your hips.

You hum thoughtfully. You didn’t want to have to actually say it, but he’s proving harder to push than you thought. Maybe…just a little more. So you stand on your toes until your lips are right next to his ear, “Don’t be gentle with me- I want you to be rough.”

Darman’s hands tighten around your hips, and you pull back enough to look at his face. His jaw is slightly slack, and his pupils are dilated. But he doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t move.

You tilt your head to the side, “Dar?”

His gaze snaps to your face, and slowly he grins. It’s a dark, almost dangerous, grin. “Safe word?”

“I prefer to use the color system,” You reply, almost breathlessly.

His grin widens and his grip tightens even more, “Color, kitten?”

“Green.” You breathe out, “Very, very green.”

“Good girl,” You squeak when he pushes you back onto the bed, “Keep those on, I’m fucking you while you’re wearing them.” Darman has his clothes off in a matter of seconds, and then he’s on top of you, using his body to press you firmly to the bed.

His hands slide down your body and then back up again, and he presses his thigh between your legs, applying just enough pressure to your soaked cunt.

You squirm against him, and release a breathless moan as he presses against you even harder, “Stars, you feel so fucking good against me-” Darman murmurs, “Go on baby, get yourself off. I know you can do it.”

You whine, low, “Want you-”

He coos and kisses you deeply, taking care to catch your lower lip between his teeth, “My sweet cyare,” Darman whispers against your lips, “Only obedient girls get what they want.”

You whine again.

“So,” He presses his thigh even harder against you, “Go ahead, cyare. Get yourself off, and then you can have my cock. And not a moment sooner.”

[lordisitmine]

TTNBD BLOG PART SIX

This blog covers chapters seven and eight of the story.

CHAPTER SEVEN – SUMMONING CIRCLES

Black Butler was one of my first fandoms. Not my first anime, by any means, but one of the first series of any kind that I consumed fan content for. I was new to the world of fanfiction back then, certainly not writing it yet. But some of the first fanfiction I read was Sebastian/Ciel.

The first fandom I wrote for was Supernatural. If you look at my works catalogue on AO3, you’ll see it’s the one I’ve written for the most as well. While it wasn’t my first fandom, I consider it my first in that it was the space in which I began to explore and hone my fanfiction writing abilities and specialties. I consider it my origin fandom, in a way. That series, its worldbuilding (or lack thereof) and its tropes make up the background from which I come.

So, when it comes to writing things about rituals and demons and other such things, I’m well-suited to the task. As I said in the last blog, I have an aversion to such things in reality, but in fiction, I’m old hat. I could say I researched ritualistic magic or the occult and took great pains to make it seem accurate to what may have been attempted in real life. But that would be a lie. When it comes to the ritual Lizzy and Sybil perform to summon Sebastian, I really just stitched together bits and pieces from stories I’ve read in the past, seen on TV or intuited from my own hypothetical actions were I in such a situation.

I have several 1899/1900 calendar pages on my wall in my writing space of the months in which the story takes place. It allows me to clearly and easily visualise the timeline of events and not lose track of them, all for the sake of maintaining proper continuity. I like to include references to actual events when appropriate. When Sybil mentions that the night of January 8th, 1900, is the first quarter moon, that’s true! I looked up the lunar charts for January 1900 and picked the soonest day when the moon was doing something definite so I could use it for the ritual. It’s amazing that the information about the phases of the moon from over a hundred years ago is available to us!

Sybil describes the balance of nature, how the sun and moon will be in the sky at the same time, and that will create harmony within the heavens. Lizzy refers to it as “a sort of homeostasis”. Homeostasis is a scientific term used in biology to describe the process by which a living organism maintains stability within itself while adjusting to varying external conditions. The term wasn’t coined until 1926 (I looked it up) but it’s a cool word and I wanted Lizzy to say something smart, because what’s the point of her going to medical school if she hasn’t become a bit of a nerd?

Also, it gives Sybil an excuse to mentally swoon. That, and the bit with the jam. I was trying to keep up the romantic tension and not let it get lost in the plot.

And then DRAT! They are interrupted by Simeon! He’s been out all night- doing what, we just don’t know. I won’t say it here but trust that in the final arc of the story, we’ll get more explanation about Simeon’s activities. Sybil is lying to her dad, thinking he wouldn’t approve of her frankly insane plan. And she’s right- he wouldn’t, but not for the reasons she thinks.

And now, it’s time for the BURNING BRIDES case! This is the case covered in the third episode of the second season of the Black Butler anime, entitled “Wench Butler”. A couple of readers have asked me how I came up with the case, and it reminded me how few people have watched the second season, or at least how few people remember it. I also have not watched it in many, many years, but I’ve taken so many pieces of it for this story.

In the episode, Ciel is assigned a new case by the Queen. There have been a few suspicious deaths- young women, all recently married, have been dying via spontaneous combustion- a truly horrific way to die, if you ask me. In her letter, the Queen mentions her “Spider”, and Ciel is intrigued, not knowing who this other investigator might be (it’s Alois).

Ciel and Sebastian eventually figure out that the victims all had their portraits taken by a pair of photographers- a married couple, the Turners. Margaret Turner, the wife, always wanted a passionate, romantic marriage, but hated her husband and her life and resented these women for their happiness and youth. So, she uses phosphorous powder, normally ignited to make the flash necessary for photography at the time to immolate her victims. When caught, she states that there was “a man with golden eyes” (Claude) who told her that the commission of these crimes would bring her happiness and that he would come to take her away from her sad life. She then commits suicide via the same method she used for the murders.

I kept most of this and just reworked some of the timing and conversations. There was a scene in the episode where Sebastian and Ciel run into Grell Sutcliff- I wanted so BADLY to have Grell appear again, I love her so much, but it was messing with the timing and tension, and it was just a whole extra scene to write, and I wanted to keep the story going. Also, trying to cram in every single character cameo I can think of would muddy the waters too much in my opinion. So, I left it out.

But I wanted to include the case itself. I always really liked the concept of it. And I specialise in re-working canon material. I’ve never been a huge AU person (i.e. high school AU, modern AU, coffee shop AU etc.)- I don’t write them (I think I wrote a Steve/Bucky coffee shop AU ONCE, for a request), and I don’t read them. Everything I write is within the canon of the series I’m writing for; I find that space much more rewarding to play in because there are rules you must stick to but still so many possibilities for what you can achieve and finding that balance is super satisfying. Things like soulmate AUs and stuff are my favourite though because again, they can exist within the boundaries of canon but make things so much more exciting in their own way.

Anyway, enough of my tangents. Back to the story. Ciel and Sebastian are investigating, being cute at a crime scene (what else is new) and they’re being watched. Ciel is not as good at being subtle as he thinks he is, so Claude was able to pick up his scent when Ciel was following him and Alois before- and they’ve decided to return the favour. But they’re also not as subtle as they think they are- cue a rooftop chase.

I like to think that Ciel is really fast. Like, I know Sebastian is fast- we see it all the time. But something about Ciel being slightly smaller makes me think that he might be able to move that much more quickly, though Sebastian will probably never admit it. I can’t wait for the later chapters of the story where Ciel begins to hone his skills. He hasn’t had a reason to properly learn how to move and fight- he and Sebastian have been living in peacetime, so to speak, since the end of TTEOE. But running fast doesn’t require a lot of practise, so Ciel catches Claude and Alois pretty easily.

Good God, Ciel remarked. Is that how I looked all those times you had to carry me?

No. You were far more distinguished.

Why do I get the impression you’re only saying that to spare my pride?

Sebastian looked facetiously wounded. You know I am incapable of telling a lie.

Ciel scoffed. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Just popping that in there to tell you once again how much I love writing banter for these two. It feels so correct, it practically writes itself, really.

I couldn’t decide whose POV this conversation should happen from, so I switched throughout. I try to be careful when I employ this technique- it can quickly make things a little soupy, for lack of a better term. But I wanted this exchange to have observations from both Alois and Claude. Alois is trying to be brave while internally pissing his pants, and Claude is falling into a quick and disgusting obsession with Ciel, which is also taken directly from season two of the anime.

I couldn’t resist having Ciel comment on Claude’s name. A Faustian demon having the last name Faustus is the most basic-bitch bullshit, and I would expect nothing less from Alois Trancy.

I loved writing Alois and Ciel’s exchange. They’re both such spitfires, stubborn and bitchy and uncooperative. The funniest part of the conversation to me is the fact that Sebastian and Claude are standing no more than six feet away, glaring daggers at each other and ready to throw down at a moment’s notice. I just imagine those wavy red lines radiating off of them like you see in an anime when a character is frustrated or angry.

If it wasn’t clear already, Claude is straight up lying when he says that Sebastian murdered Alois’s brother. This brings up another topic I wanted to discuss, which is the thing demons are always saying about how they don’t lie. I always just assumed that statement itself is a lie, and that’s the joke, right- lying when you say you don’t lie? Obviously if a demon’s master gives them an order to answer a question honestly, they would have to, but outside of orders, I think demons can just bullshit all they want. Especially demons like Claude, who are already disloyal to their masters and stretching the limits of their contract’s rules to the absolute limit In order to complete their own goals.

Claude telling Alois that Sebastian killed his brother is also straight out of the anime- he lies to Alois there too, so I don’t feel weird about doing it in this fic. Demons are creatures of treachery, after all, and will ultimately do what’s good for themselves in the end. The only question is, why would Claude lay they blame on Sebastian? What could he stand to gain? Questions, questions, questions…

As I said before, for a lot of this summoning ritual, I’m writing off the top of my head. The thing about salt is true, though- salt is a purifier/preservative, so it’s often considered to be symbolically protective. Pouring salt lines in doorways and windowsills will supposedly protect a household, as no evil can pass through the barrier. That’s a thing in Supernatural, but Supernatural didn’t make it up, is what I’m saying.

The way I imagine this ritual works is like: Lizzy focuses on Sebastian. Sybil reaches into her brain with her witchy powers, connects to the spirit network and just pulls really hard on the threads of the universe until Sebastian appears. That’s all pretty vague but I don’t really think the specific mechanics of the ritual matter all that much. It’s magic, don’t worry about it.

The rest of this chapter was one of the first things I wrote for this fic. Not the very first- The scene in chapter one with Lizzy at Ciel’s grave was first written in 2019 (!!), but the first draft of this chunk of chapter seven is hand-written (I handwrite a lot of my fic) and dated as May 2022. I hadn’t yet figured out what the circumstances were for Ciel and Sebastian even being in London, or why they’d been talking to Claude, but I knew I wanted them to be making out when Sebastian got yoinked. It’s just very funny to me. Someone commented that it’s good Sybil and Lizzy didn’t wait much longer to start the ritual, or Sebastian would have been buck-ass naked when he showed up, and that gave me a good laugh. I hadn’t thought of that.

I love Ciel making Sebastian jealous on purpose. They both like annoying each other, it’s an Olympic sport for them, but we all know that Ciel secretly (or not so secretly) loves how possessive Sebastian is. He loves being needed and wanted and owned and *screams* I love writing it. Makes my brain go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

It was important to me that Sebastian show up in Sybil’s attic looking like an angry wet cat, only not wet. Frazzled maybe. He just got dissolved and pulled through space and then reassembled in a strange environment. You’d be frazzled too. I feel like I succeeded with my sketch.

Now that Ciel is a demon, it’s fun to have Sebastian be the one in danger because there’s actually more Ciel can do to save him- though his inability to really fight or anything is going to be a problem that needs rectifying (we’ll get there). He is, however, perfectly capable of smashing through a window and scaring the shit out of Lizzy and Sybil.

I knew from the very beginning that I HAD to have the moment Lizzy finding out Ciel is still alive be a cliffhanger at the end of a chapter. Nothing else would have done it justice. She was gagged. Gooped. Face? Cracked. Wig? Snatched.

CHAPTER EIGHT – A SOUL NO LONGER LIVING

Another Simeon flashback! I love writing these. I’m very fond of Simeon, much more than I thought I would be, considering he was basically only created to be a vehicle for exposition and plot continuance. We also get more insight into Ada, who I also love. I’m actually chipping away at a spin-off one-shot about their first few days together after making their contract it’s literally just porn but that’s beside the point. It’s quite a different dynamic than any other demon/master relationships that are seen in canon- but if there are many demons running around in the world, it would stand to reason that their contracts and relationships would be as diverse as they are.

In truth, I have ideas/intentions for a few spin-off one-shots of varying lengths for this universe. Don’t worry, I’m going to focus on finishing the main story first! But I’ve never been this excited to expand on a fic before. It’s a neat feeling, and I hope my readers will follow me along on the journey, even though I’m really just happy to write these ideas down for myself!

Ciel bursting into the room, dropping a “surprise, bitch” on Lizzy and then immediately ignoring her in favour of Sebastian is just very Him. I wanted this whole scene to be from Lizzy’s POV because again, I love that outsider shit, and she’s the one with the most new and overwhelming thoughts at this moment. As if it wasn’t enough that Ciel is alive, she suddenly sees him and Sebastian kissing- it’s a wonder her head didn’t explode! But that reveal was less surprising to her. Ciel and Sebastian were always… weirdly close, so she can’t claim to be too shocked.

He approached her, and she flinched. She never would have before- she would never have thought to be afraid of him- he would never have struck her. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. There was some power, some darkness radiating from him that made the basest part of her shy away.

When I wrote this, I had fully forgotten the scene early in the anime when Ciel does totally reel back to slap Lizzy and Sebastian has to stop him. It’s a small thing, but I was kicking myself about it when I realised my mistake- nobody’s perfect, I guess.

“The eyepatch you wore,” Lizzy said, and then felt quite stupid. “It wasn’t from an injury, then.” Tears began to burn in her eyes, threatening to spill over. “That was a lie as well.”

Here, at this moment, we get Lizzy’s emotional hang-up for the rest of the arc- the fact that Ciel lied to her. For the record, I didn’t even expect her to care this much. She just would not let it go, even when I tried to write her letting it go. Sometimes characters and stories develop a mind of their own, and you have to follow their lead until it comes to its natural conclusion.

I know a lot of readers were annoyed by Lizzy’s unwillingness to just get with the program already and believe me- I was also annoyed! But I also felt that it was more accurate to her character, and I wasn’t going to sacrifice that for the sake of making readers a little less annoyed. Sometimes characters are gonna do stuff you don’t agree with. That can be interesting. And sometimes, the consequences of their stupidity or stubbornness can be all the more satisfying as a result!

Thankfully, before things could devolve into even more arguing, Simeon shows up and the boys quickly bounce. Sybil telling Simeon that it was a bird that broke the window is another pseudo-reference to the fact that Ciel, to me, is a phoenix. He’s the big bird lol.

Alois is of course enchanted by the idea of immortality- if anyone would be looking for a way to weasel out of having to give up their soul, it would be him. Claude, of course, has no intention of ever doing something like that. He’s anti-love and anti-fun in general, to be honest. What a buzzkill.

I’m not going to go too into detail about Hannah’s revelation about this weapon, as there are things about it that have yet to be revealed in the fic itself. I’ll leave that for later commentary blogs. Rest assured, this weapon is bad news.

In a comment on this chapter, someone pointed out that at the moment Alois and Claude are discussing mating bonds and such, Ciel and Sebastian are back at their hotel having emotional, life-affirming floor sex. The juxtaposition of those two images made me laugh. If this was a show, you could have a hard cut between Claude being like “Romance is dumb” BOOM Ciel and Sebastian fucking. It’s hilarious to me.

Anyway, this scene was so self-indulgent to me. Sometimes you just gotta write stupid mushy shit, okay? They’re so in love with each other *cries*

“How can you say such things?” he looked at Ciel mournfully. “How can it be that I’ve failed you so, that you believe these lies about yourself?” He reached up and pushed matted, wet strands of hair away from Ciel’s eyes. “You have proven time and time again to be my saviour and my solace. You are and always will be the very reason for my existence- the purpose for which I live and breathe- whether you are of any use to me or not.”

What’s that meme that’s like “Do you like soul mate AUs or do you just struggle with your self-worth and are obsessed with the idea that someone could love you no matter what”? It’s me. I have exposed myself.

I think Ciel likes pain, like, in a sex way- at some point, all the shit he went through must have crossed wires in his brain- but in this scene, it was more about his need to feel something, anything, to remind him that he and Sebastian were both alive, and real, and safe and together. And it affected him so deeply that his blue flames came back, even for a second!

I didn’t intend for Ciel’s powers to be a part of the story, but I realised early on that Ciel needed some kind of internal conflict to give him a character arc as well as the external conflict of solving murders etc. I’m excited to get into it properly in the final arc of the story.

Sebastian, a demon, reciting scripture will never not be amusing to me.

“And they shall take of the blood and strike it upon the two side posts and on the upper doorposts of the houses… for I will pass through the land of Egypt in the night, and I will smite all the firstborn, both man and beast.”

The passage he is quoting is from the Old Testament book of Exodus, paraphrasing verses from the twelfth chapter. It’s the command God gave to Moses for the Hebrew people, which led to what became the first Passover. The Hebrew people were in slavery in Egypt, and God sent the ten plagues of Egypt, and the final plague was that God passed over the land of Egypt, and every firstborn human and animal died, all in one night. This is what made Pharoah finally break down and let the Hebrews go.

The Hebrew people themselves were protected from the plague because they sacrificed a lamb and used its blood to mark their doors so God would know they were his people and not harm them when he passed over. Thus, the term “Passover”.

Sebastian, using his blood to mark the walls and keep them safe, found it a cheeky, fitting reference. And yet again, he STOLE something.

Cambion is indeed a term for a being who is half-demon, half-human. The term originates in European mythology and was originally used interchangeably with the word ‘changeling’, a mythological creature that replaced a human child, but later came to mean a demon-human hybrid. The most popular use of the term is the creature from Dungeons & Dragons, a humanoid creature with bat-like wings and horns and a devil’s tail.

Obviously, Sybil doesn’t have any of those physical attributes, but her demon heritage is what makes her capable of seeing the dead, as well as her intuitiveness and her ability to successfully perform rituals like the one that summoned Sebastian despite the fact that she’d never attempted anything like it before in her life. Witches in general are just humans with an affinity for the spiritual, but Sybil has heightened abilities that can only be attributed to her non-human genetics.

I ended this chapter on another sort-of cliffhanger- I hate writing normal endings to scenes, it always feels awkward, so I always end up doing this haha. I hope it doesn’t get too annoying or boring. Like right now, for instance, me not knowing how to end this blog post.

Okay, bye, see you all next time!

[harringtown]

sorrow is a season

a/n: ik I've been super sporadic these last few months, but book revisions and tight deadlines have had me v busy!!!! anyways I’ve spent so so long on this and wanted to pull off some wild plot stuff but then I got busy and I figured I couldn’t just let the 2k I had go to waste and so, here we are. apologies for the wait anon, its been TOO long, but I hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie munson is dead. or is he? (aka a kas/vampire Eddie au)

word count: 4k

warnings: blood/death/violence mention

-

In the end, he is alone, like he always knew he would be.

Even the bats, either bored of a limp plaything or drawn away, fly off. The lightning seems to follow them, leaving Eddie alone on the grass in a cold, gray version of a place he never liked all that much to begin with.

The only thing that ever made the trailer park worth it was you. Though, to be fair, the only thing that made a lot of things in this shitty town worth it was you.

You. You, smiling at him from the passenger seat as you sing along to the radio, and you, whispering to him under the stars at midnight, and you, looking at him like you never want to stop.

He would give anything to see you one last time. To make sure you’re alive. Because he can’t be sure—he doesn’t know if his sacrifice is amounting to anything, or if you’re dying, too, just out of sight. Panic clears some of the fog from his brain.

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s speaking, calling out the word, “Please,” until his raw throat protests. Even then, he doesn’t stop, forcing his voice louder, screaming into the twisted ether.

Please, don’t take me away.

He isn’t sure who he’s yelling to, exactly, because he’s never believed in God, and even if he did, God sure as shit can’t hear him down here.

“I don’t want to die,” he says. Tears have mixed with the blood on his face, and his vision blurs red.

What are you willing to give in order to live?

The voice asks, and Eddie isn’t entirely sure it isn’t just some figment of his dying brain.

He shakes his head, letting it thump back against the grass. Above him, the dark red sky doesn’t hold a single star.

What are you willing to give? The voice asks again.

Later, he’ll understand what he’s about to do. But not yet. Not yet.

“Anything,” Eddie croaks. “Anything.”

A tall, hulking silhouette moves through the shadows, but Eddie can’t see their face, or anything, really. All of his senses disappear, and he’s lost in an endless sea of darkness.

Eddie Munson dies. And then, he wakes up.  

-

Eddie Munson is dead.

Three months of telling yourself those words, and they still don’t sound real.

Two months since he was legally declared dead—there wasn’t a body, still isn’t, probably never will be, but in Hawkins, this is no longer a strange occurrence—and three months since you dragged Dustin away from his body, and it still doesn’t feel real.

You’re beginning to doubt it ever will. Maybe it will always be this way. You, looking out your front window every time you pass it and expecting to see his van idling at the curb. You, accidentally ordering his coffee alongside your own enough times that even the barista pities you.

You, still waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.

“But you’ll be there, right? 10 am?” Robin asks, her voice garbled through the phone.

Lounging on your bed, you push up, keeping the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder.

“10 am, on the field. I know. I’m not going to miss my own graduation,” you say.

“Our graduation,” Robin says. “And thank the heavens, because I swear to God, I don’t think I’d have survived another week with Mrs. Burton. If I had to read another sexist, poorly written poem by a long dead man, I was going to spontaneously combust.”  

You laugh, but something about the words our graduation sticks to the back of your throat like phlegm. You and Robin’s. It was supposed to be three of you, though.

It’s as if Robin can hear your spiraling thoughts, because she says, gently, “If you want company, I can force Harrington to buy us beer and drive me over.”

You smile. “I’ll live. Besides, there’ll be plenty of beer at all the after parties I’m dragging you to tomorrow night.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Robin quips. “For once, I don’t mind hanging out with these people, considering I’ll never have to see most of them again.”

“One can dream,” you say.

“One can,” Robin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow.”

You exchange goodbyes with Robin and walk the phone back to the receiver, untangling the twisted cord, and hang it up. Before going back to your bed, you bring two fingers to your lips, then press them to the red electric guitar hanging over your dresser, like you do every night.

It isn’t the guitar he used to draw the very bats that killed him. That guitar was lost with Eddie.

It, along with a few tee shirts, the rings he pulled off his fingers and jammed into your hands before you left him, and a few photos, are all that remain of Eddie Munson.

You’d made a thousand plans together, and even if 99% of them were impossible, the 1% that weren’t still clatter behind you everywhere you go.

I think it’s finally my year.

1986 should have been the beginning of the rest of his life; hopefully, a life alongside you. It should have made high school and the monsters you’d fought an old story.

This, an empty grave, shouldn’t be the end.

-

The lock on the window in your room has been whining as long as you’ve lived in the house. A few years back, your parents tried to get it replaced, but you’d refused. You couldn’t tell them why, but you weren’t about to get rid of a built-in alarm on that window.

The whining sound pulls you out of sleep and off the mattress in under two seconds. You pull out the sledgehammer you have hidden under the bed before your eyes find the silhouette slipping through the now-open window and into your room.

Of all the nights for someone to break in, it had to be one of the miraculous few you weren’t having a nightmare. At three in the morning, that alone feels worthy of at least a tap with the hammer.

The second the figure hits the middle of your room, you lunge.

The figure ducks the swing, and jerks to the side, face illuminated by moonlight streaming in the window.

A face that can’t possibly be standing in your bedroom.

Eddie Munson. Or his ghost. Or something—

“Jesus Christ, babe, where the hell did you get a sledgehammer? Were you going to hit me with that?” Eddie exclaims, except it can’t be Eddie, because Eddie died in your arms. Because you pried Dustin off Eddie’s body. Because you’ve seen his death in your dreams every night for months.

It can’t be. It isn’t. But someone, or something, is wearing his skin, masquerading as the boy you love, and it’s the last of many, many straws.

You swing the hammer, but faster than your eyes can track, Eddie’s hand moves—you blink, and he’s holding the metal edge in one fist.

The hammer’s head is too heavy to be caught without breaking a finger—but the speed with which he moved is more troubling.

“Who the hell are you?” You snap, wrenching the hammer out of his fist, swinging again. “Get the hell out of my house, now—“

“Hold on, hold on—“ Not-Eddie backs up, hands raised, and with each second that passes, your brain files away the subtle differences. The color of his eyes, that beautiful brown, almost has a red tint in the dark. “It’s me. I swear to God, it’s me.”

“Whatever this sick game is, I’m not playing.” You raise the sledgehammer parallel to the floor and point it at him, using it to push him back toward the window. “Out.”

“Okay, okay, just—just wait.” He jumps to the side just before hitting the window, skating along the wall and darting around you. You whip around, and Eddie is there in a blink, plucking the hammer out of your hands. He tosses it onto your bed and slides into place directly between you and your weapon.

“If I wasn’t me, how would I have known how to open the window?”

Your Eddie could pop the lock in seconds. It was why you always kept it locked, because the only person who might need to get in could.  

“Anybody—anything— can jimmy a lock,” you snap.

Maybe it’s your lack of a good night’s sleep in the recent past, or the darkness of the room, but you swear, he almost looks hurt.

“Harsh, but fair.” He takes a breath. “But it really is me.”

“Eddie Munson died three months ago,” you say. “I was there.”

“Yeah, I saw the gravestone. Bet my funeral had a hell of a turnout,” he says.

“Just stop. You’re not him. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not him.”

Eddie seems to chew on his words for a moment. “We met in gym class. You were a junior. I was a senior, the second time. You were hiding behind the long jump mats during the mile run, and I army-crawled my ass over to you so that ancient gym teacher didn’t bust us both. Naturally, he saw me, and the second he yelled, you shoved me out onto the track on my ass.” He grins. “I was pretty much done for, after that.”

You shake your head. “Twenty other people were on the track  that day—”

“Fine. Okay.” He huffs a breath. Folds his arms over his chest. “Right, okay, so a few weeks after we started hanging out, I took you to Lover’s Lake. We ate Cheetos and drank warm Coke on the dock, and you told me about that field trip, the one to the museum in middle school. You got lost, ended up in the art exhibit for two hours until a chaperone tracked you down. After that, you couldn’t get enough of all those old—what is it? Abstract paintings.”

Your heart beats like a kick drum, so loud you’re surprised it hasn’t woken the whole house.

Eddie’s gaze darts down—and you don’t remember much of the few anatomy lessons you had, but you’d swear he looks where your heart is.

“This isn’t possible,” you say softly.

Eddie’s lips pull thin. “You kissed me outside that gas station on main because you said you were tired of waiting for me to do it.” A smile softens his expression. “And the first time you told me you loved me, we were in this room, in that bed, but you had to whisper because your parents were downstairs.” He takes a step forward. “And I said it back. Didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t whisper either, but you weren’t even pissed. Y’know, I’d only said that to one other person before you, but I didn’t hesitate.“

“No. You can’t be here.” You swallow. Shake your head. Hope is banging its fists against your ribcage, desperate to break out of the prison you locked it in. Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall.

Eddie shrugs. “But I am.”

He takes a step toward you, and when you don’t move away, he takes another. Only when there are no more steps to take does he stop, the rubber of his sneakers kissing the tips of your toes.

He doesn’t move any further, like he’s leaving the last inch up to you.

You hold his gaze. Reach a hand up and let it settle on his cheek.

“Eddie?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning into your hand. “It’s me.”

Just like that, the sob that’s been sitting at the base of your throat for months dislodges, and you throw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He still feels like your Eddie, still smells like him beneath that overhanging scent of ash.

The moment he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you, you know it’s Eddie. You’ve been in these arms so many times, you fit like puzzle pieces.

“Eddie,” you say again, voice muffled by his hair, and he just holds you tighter, so tight you can barely breathe but you don’t care.

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m here.”

And for the first time in months, you can breathe.

-

For ten minutes, everything is like it was. Eddie is all bravado and big smiles, like the last three months never happened, and you let the lie hang because you’ve missed him too badly to pull it back. But it’s more fog than curtain, and it evaporates fast.

Eddie pulls you onto the bed and into his arms, just holding you, and the way your bodies fold together may be the same, but nothing else is.

His skin is cooler, dryer. Covered in scars. His scent, one you can’t describe but know, isn’t totally different, but it’s not the same, either.

And his eyes. He clearly took efforts to keep them out of the light—asking you not to turn a lamp on, keeping his chin ducked—but up close, there’s no mistaking it.

The deep, dark brown is more like a deep red wine someone spilled on a carpet. It’s a beautiful, inhuman shade of red. And you may have seen enough weird shit to fill a museum over the last few years, it sets off every alarm bell inside you. Like an ancient voice is urging you to run while everything else tells you to stay.

Your first observation was right. He isn’t your Eddie. He’s something different. Evolved. And you’re not sure if it’s for better or worse. You’re also not sure if you give a shit.

There are so many questions to ask, but they’d all break the bubble you’re resting in, so you settle for the softest you can think of.

“Tell me what happened to you,” you say gently, keeping your forehead pressed to his chest so you don’t have to look him in the eye; that, and because you’re trying to find a heartbeat. You haven’t. “How you survived. I’m not an idiot, Eddie. And I can only pretend I haven’t noticed that your eyes are a different color or that you move faster than you should. That somehow, you’ve been in the Upside Down for three months, and you’re not a decayed corpse.”

Eddie’s hands, steady as they glide up and down your back, your arms, your sides, stall, and his fingers curl slightly into your hoodie.

“You were there,” he says. “You saw it all.”

“Clearly, not everything. You were dead when I left—”

“Almost dead.”

“What?” you stiffen.

“I wasn’t… I mean, I was mostly dead. Kissing Death, straight on the lips, tongue and all. And then…”

“And then?”

He inhales, and says, “And then, I made a deal with the devil. A deal I can’t take back.”

You lean back. You may not have all the pieces, but you have enough to get some understanding at the full picture.

The only devil in the Upside Down is Vecna. And if he brought Eddie back—whatever the definition of back is—he didn’t go it out of the goodness of his heart.

“Eddie, what did you do?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“Look, I know you want answers, and I want to give them to you, but I…” He pauses. His hand comes up to your cheek, his cold fingers tracing a line down to your jaw. You shiver. “I’ve spent the last three months waiting for a single minute he wasn’t on my ass, watching me, and I don’t have a lot of time. So, I swear to God, I’ll answer all your questions, but right now, I just want to be here. With you.”

You frown. “You’re not staying.”

Eddie is silent for a long time before he says, “I can’t. Not yet.”

You shift back, sitting up so that only his outline is visible in your periphery. From this angle, blurry and out of focus, he still looks like the Eddie you lost. An Eddie whose biggest problem was whether he’d actually graduate this year.

Eddie sits up beside you, a hand on your arm. He exhales, dropping his chin onto your shoulder. It’s a familiar position, and without thinking, you tip your head against his, temple to temple.

“I’m still a puppet,” he says softly. “Just because he’s not holding my strings right now doesn’t mean he’s not coming back for them.”  

You scoff. “If you’re just… some puppet, how are you here now? I mean, am I even talking to the real you right now?”

Eddie stiffens.

“I’m me,” he says. “A lot of the time… I’m more him than me. But right now, right here, I’m me. I’m just Eddie.” He lifts his chin. You crane your head to meet his eyes.

“I spent months waiting for a chance. V—He’s been so weak after everything that went down, he’s been stuck down there. Healing. Even when I came topside to fee—” He stops abruptly. Changes course. “But now…” Eddie pauses. It’s like he’s battling two voices in his head, one telling him to speak, the other urging him silent. “Let’s just say, he’s on a business trip, and I’m supposed to be down there, keeping an eye on things. I only had a few hours.”

“I don’t want you to go,” you whisper, like if you keep your voice low enough, the world won’t hear and jinx you.

“I know, angel,” he says. He drops his chin and presses a long kiss to the side of your head. When he pulls back, his expression has shifted, freezing over like Lovers Lake every December. His voice isn’t entirely his own as he says, “But there’s something I need to take care of before I can stay.”

“Something?” you ask. “Or someone?”

Eddie lets out a long sigh. He rolls onto his back, hands coming up behind his head, and the posture, his presence beside you, the tickle of his hair against your shoulder, is somehow familiar and foreign at once.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“I want you to stay alive—” He lifts his brows, and you huff, pressing on. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. And you know that it wasn’t some… miracle that brought me back. It was—” He stops. “If he’s still around, I’m not really me. I’m just another one of his weapons.”

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. No human should be able to hear it. But Eddie does.

“I’m gonna try,” he says.

“And if you can’t?”

Eddie shrugs. He pointedly averts his gaze as he says, “If I can’t, then I go out fighting. Maybe I can get a few decent shots in before he takes me out.”

“Eddie—”

Eddie twists, shifting so he’s half in front of you. He takes your face in his hands and forces your gaze. The angles of his face are sharper, his eyes are clearer. He isn’t the Eddie you lost, but he’s still your Eddie, under it all.

“I’m already on borrowed time, sweetheart. Might as well make it worth something.”

You shake your head. “No. That’s bullshit. We’ll just… we’ll get out of here. Tonight. We can get in my car and drive until we get to a city big enough to disappear in. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“You know, I’ve been running since I learned to walk.” His thumb traces a line up and down your jaw. “I never even thought about stopping. Never wanted to.” A sad smile ghosts his lips. “Then, one day, I met you. And I had a reason to stay. So, I’m gonna fight for it. And I’m gonna come back for you.”

Before, Eddie Munson could have won a contest for stubbornness. It appears dying or almost dying didn’t change that.

You take a breath. Close your eyes for a long moment. When you open them, you say, “You better. If you don’t, I’ll kill you. And I’ll make sure it takes this time.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and loops his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. For a long time, you stay that way, holding each other and pretending the seconds aren’t rolling by.

And then, much sooner than you’d like, Eddie peels himself out of your arms. He climbs off the bed, and you follow him back to the window. The latch whines in protest as he lifts the windowpane, like it too is dreading his departure.

He climbs out onto the roof and turns back to the window, his slender hands on the sill. His fingers look naked without their rings.

Your stomach clawing up your throat, you lift the thin chain out from under your shirt, the metal rings hanging from it clacking. You unlatch it and pull off a thick, black ring. Unlike the others, taken off him in the Upside Down, you’ve had this ring for ages. He gave it to you a long, long time ago.

You lift one of his hands, sliding it onto his middle finger. He curls his fingers around yours, squeezing hard.

“Come back to me,” you say.

“I’ll see you soon,” he says. “Promise.”

Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, and the cool touch of his lips disappears. When you open your eyes, he’s gone. Like he was never there at all.

Maybe he wasn’t.

-

Three weeks pass. By the fourteenth day, you’re halfway convinced you hallucinated Eddie. By the twentieth, you’re sure of it.

Call it your brain trying to process the mountain of grief inside you. Or the end of the slow spiral into madness you started three years ago, when a Demogorgon nearly dragged you through a portal in a tree.

Fantasizing a conversation with your dead boyfriend isn’t exactly the weirdest thing that’s happened. It’s better than the alternative: that Eddie is gone, for real.

And then, on the twenty second night, the latch on your window whines open.

In seconds, you’re up and out of bed, standing in the middle of your room just the way you were a few weeks ago. Staring at a silhouette near the window just the way you were a few weeks ago.

The figure half-covered by shadows is limping, and something dark drips off their hands—what you can see of them is covered in a dark substance that has to be blood.

“I know, I know, I’m an asshole. I don’t write, I don’t call…” A familiar, if not a little rough and raw, voice says, and the massive knot that’s been coiling in your gut for weeks untangles itself in an instant.

“Eddie,” you breathe, as he steps into the moonlight.

“Told you I'd be back,” he says, flashing you a smile between heavy breaths. His canines are wickedly sharp, longer than they should be, and shining with blood. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re really here? I’m not hallucinating?”

A smile twitches across his red lips.

“You’re not hallucinating. I’m here,” he says.

“For good?”

“For good,” he says. His mouth curves up, and his smile appears here to stay.

Like him.

And you don’t care how he got here. What he had to become just to be standing here right now. You don’t care what it might take to keep him here, either.

All that matters is that he’s here. Period.

So, you cross the room in three steps, and pull him into your arms. Blood and all.

-

taglist: @milkiane​ @robiin-buckley​ @copycatkillerfics​  @robinbuckleyssgf @isshecrazyorissheclever @peanutbutter-y-jams​ @hellfire1986baby​ @minksblog @comfortcharactercraze​  

[whispersbelongingbird]

Ivantill theme before Round 6? 😭😭

Anon.. It’s been a Year and 3 month wait and it’s coming out in a few hours. I’m literally about to combust I can’t handle this. If Ivan dies I will cry. If Till dies I will cry. If they both die I will cry. If they both live I will cry.

Doesn’t matter how this round ends, I’m going to be in tears. I’m begging for Hyuna and Mizi to save them because we see them pull up to the stadium at the end of ‘All-in’. At this point all we can do is hope for the best..

[wawa-boonliang]

Flufftober Day 2: Family, Friends, Loved Ones

Summary: brotherly bonding between Hitoshi, Dabi, and Shouto. Based on my BNHA fanfiction Never and Always, Eventually

Aizawa-Yamada Shouto isn’t entirely sure why he’s doing this.

It’s been six months since the adoption was finalized. Life had simultaneously calmed down and become more hectic than ever. Shouto didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to his quiet, shut-in life-style. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ever had to go back to where he was. What he’d do if he lost all of this, all of the hugs in the morning, all of the hair ruffles in the classroom, all of the forehead kisses and sweet wishes goodnight. What he’d do if he didn’t have the warmth of Bakugou… Kacchan… leaning against his side as he sat on the couch with Explodocat spread across his lap, watching TV as Yamada Sensei… as Papa Mic and Shins– Hitoshi argued over the channel.

What he’d do without the warm flutter in his stomach every time he saw Izuku.

But sometimes… he can’t help but fall into old patterns.

Hitoshi froze and peered over Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto held very still, hoping that if he didn’t move, somehow his… brother… wouldn’t be able to see what was on his screen. Unfortunately, Hitoshi didn’t seem to have turned into a T-Rex, so after a few seconds, Hitoshi cleared his throat and read outloud “New theory, Endeavor is secretly in love with All Might.”

Shouto knew it was hopeless at this point, but he still didn’t move, or speak, or breathe.

���Halfy… what the fuck?”

“...it’s not my theory. I’m just reading it.”

“Why are you reading it? What even is this?” Hitoshi gestured to the screen, before heaving himself over the back of the couch and sliding in next to him, pulling the laptop onto his own lap and exploring the page. “ProShippersUnite.com?” Hitoshi read out in glee. “Is this what you fucking do all day in your room?”

“...not always.”

Hitoshi scrolled back up to the post that had initially got his attention due to the giant fan-created splash art of Endeavor and All Might in a passionate embrace. “Don’t show this to Deku, I think he’d actually combust.”

“I wasn’t planning on it? I wasn’t planning on you seeing either.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have been on it in the living room.”

Shouto flushed. “I didn’t know anyone else was home.”

Shouto, truth be told, had been feeling a little lonely today. Izuku and Kacchan were with Mrs. Midoriya… Aunty Inko… and Papa Mic was at work doing a Charity Marathon stream for the local children’s hospital for cancer awareness month. He wouldn’t be home for another three hours if all went well. Dad was covering patrol today for Mrs. Joke who was out of town visiting family. And up until a few minutes ago, he’d been under the impression that Hitoshi was with Tokoyami at the other boy’s house. Somehow, being in a public space, even in an empty house, was a bit less isolating than being alone in his room in an empty house.

Hitoshi didn’t seem to notice his embarrassment, or if he did he didn’t comment on it. He was too busy reading through the post. “Oh my god, this person made a timeline. All Might says in an interview that he enjoys a specific spicy noodle dish at a certain restaurant, four days later Endeavor is seen at that restaurant ordering that same dish. God, look at that picture. You’d think with being on fire and all he’d be able to handle spice. All Might changes his costume, a few months later Endeavor also changes up his look with the same shade of blue being the predominant color. That’s hilarious, I never noticed that.”

“It’s oddly compelling,” Shouto breaks his silence hesitantly. These days, even though he… he does love Hitoshi… he isn’t always sure when the other boy is making fun of him or not. He never feels like Hitoshi means to hurt his feelings, even though he occasionally does, but he’d rather not be teased about this.

“I…” Shouto wants to explain how, before he had friends, before he had this… theories were all he had. Stupid things to waste time thinking about, because keeping his thoughts occupied was the only way he was able to… just get through the day. Every day. He’d run ridiculous stories through his head, each one more preposterous than the last, and do his best mental gymnastics to justify them. It was fun.

Some of the only fun he’d been able to take for himself for years.

Hitoshi must hear something in his voice, because he stops scrolling and gives Shouto his full attention. “Yeah, Halfy?”

“Sites like these were how I learned about Dad and Papa,” Shouto said slowly. “And Kacchan and Izuku. Them being a family. Theories about Aunty Inko and Mrs. Bakugou being surrogates. Theories about what quirk Izuku had or which father was biologically connected to which son. And before that… I didn’t really have any friends. Theories like this were… the only way I knew how to talk to people. Pros were always happy to share their own, and they always seemed to like mine too.” Shouto huffed. “But now I know they were probably laughing at me half the time. I hadn’t realized it at the time.”

Hitoshi hummed, but his gaze was focused on Shouto. Shouto knew he was listening.

“I just,” Shouto had no idea how to elaborate on how important things like this had been to him, and the more he said out loud, the sillier it seemed. “I just liked them,” he finished lamely.

Hitoshi kept looking at him silently for a few more moments before clearing his throat and closing the laptop. “Let me ask you something, little brother.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Have you ever tried to prove a theory?”

Shouto blinked. “Only…the EraserMic one.”

Hitoshi grinned. “Ferb, I know what we’re gonna do today.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

“How does this prove that Endeavor is in love with All Might?” Shouto asks Hitoshi an hour later as they hide behind some bushes with a video camera liberated from their parents’ room.

Hitoshi, when he answers, addresses his response towards the camera. “I’m glad you asked lil’ listener,” Hitoshi grins, throwing the camera a couple of finger guns. It’s disconcerting, because the grin is all Dad, but the voice is all Papa Mic. It makes Shouto smile despite himself. “We’ll be able to tell by his reaction. Surely, if he isn’t madly in love with everyone’s favorite hero, then he won’t bat an eye. But if he is get ready for an explosive time!”

“Please stop talking like Papa.”

“No. We ready to go live?”

“Oh. We’ve been live.”

Hitoshi freezes, and by his face, Shouto can tell he regrets talking like a mini Present Mic. Shouto feels a strange, unfamiliar sense of glee. A type of glee he’s only recently discovered and is usually reserved for when one of his brothers gets caught doing something harmlessly stupid.

Hitoshi slowly pulls out his phone and clicks onto their website where Momo had hired somebody to set up a page for live streaming. Sure enough, Shouto had been streaming for ten minutes already. Two thousand people were watching, and the chat was very active.

Lmao dude wat

Endeavor? He hates All Might

no no let them talk

lil listener hahaha

omg my babies

Hitoshi kinda hot tho

dat smile damn

Who let them out of hte house unsuerpvised

Present Mic come get ur kid

im worried

plz dont do anything stupid

why

Wait wut imlate to stream

lmaoooo

let him cook

why r u in a bush

put todoroki on camera!

hes not todoroki anymore he got adopted and changed his name

he’s not todoroki

I think his last name is Yamada like Mic

yeah put him on camera!

Where are the adults? Am concerned?

are we sure they aren’t blood related?

Hitoshi punched Shouto in the arm. “Dude, why didn’t you warn me?”

Shouto frowned at him. “I’ve been pointing it at you for the last ten minutes with the light on.” Shouto gestures to the little green light that indicates that the camera is in use.

“How was I supposed to know! I wasn’t looking at you! I was busy.”

Shouto ignores him and points the camera towards the villain fight that they definitely weren’t supposed to be anywhere near. Endeavor had a villain cornered. Shouto hadn’t been paying attention to what the villain in question had done to get the new number one hero on his tail, but that wasn’t what was important. What was important was the several life-sized All Might cardboard cutouts that Hitoshi had sourced from somewhere, and then used his Aizawa-honed skill set to sneakily place just so, peeking out of alleyways, on rooftops gazing down benevolent, inside someone’s car, and even in the window of a shop – the owner lady had been nice when Hitoshi had told her it was a prank on Endeavor.

Since the court transcripts had been made public, the public opinion on the new number one hero had tanked to all time lows. Shouto felt suitably vindicated by this.

They knew the exact moment when Endeavor clocked the first one, the one in the alley, because he froze, letting the villain with the telekinesis quirk get a good hit in with a piece of rubble from the torn up street. A group of civilians cheered. As did their live chat.

yoooooo ten points

Oooooh face shot

lmaoooooooo pog

ouch. i mean lmao. But ouch.

Rofl nice shot

go for the crotch next time!

GIVE HIM THE CHAIR

ahhhh come on, there was a perfectly good car right there. throw that!!!

Shouto the fuck are you doing and why didn’t you invite me

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

Dabi stared in disbelief at his little brother’s livestream.

(He wasn’t entirely sure if he was still able to claim that connection. Not that he’d wanted to for the better part of ten years. But now he wasn’t sure that he could if he did want to. Not since Shouto had been adopted by that sickeningly sweet hero couple. Not since Shouto had been given two new brothers. Or maybe even before. Not since he’d left. But his little maybe-brother had grown into someone that Dabi could see himself being friends with. His little maybe-brother had grown into someone that made Dabi feel a strange feeling of loss in his chest whenever he thought about lost years and lost chances.)

He was all for tormenting Endeavor. But this was lame as hell.

Dabi could do so much better.

“Hey,” Himiko whined. “Are you going? I want to come!”

“No,” Dabi told her sharply, but not unkindly. “One, your obsession with my… brother is weird.”

“Not him! I have a crush on Katsuki!”

“Two,” Dabi steamrolled past, ignoring that. “This is Todoroki business.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

The fight went well.

For the villain.

Once Endeavor noticed the second cut-out, he seemed to be on the lookout for more. The villain had used his distraction to first rough him up, and then get away. Endeavor roared as he gave chase, blasting down the street, almost burning a few civilians in his wake.

Hitoshi and Shouto ran to keep up, making sure to stay out of sight.

“Okay,” Hitoshi panted. “Step two.”

“And what would step two be?”

The two of them stumbled into each other, surprised. Out of an alley came the burned, but amused figure of none other than Touya. Shouto blinked twice, then gave an awkward smile. “Hello, To— Aniki. Would you like to play with us?”

A look of irritation came over Touya’s face, but it disappeared just as fast. “Don’t call me that.” Shouto nodded, knowing that Touya wasn’t talking about aniki. Shouto wasn’t sure why Touya didn’t want to be called Touya, but Shouto also didn’t want to call him Dabi. Dabi was a villain name. Touya wasn’t a villain. Touya was just his brother. But then Touya smiled a smile that wouldn’t look out of place on Dad. “But, yes. I would.”

“Great,” Hitoshi said, accepting this immediately and rolling with it, which Shouto thought was just one of the many things that made his new brother amazing. He couldn’t help but feel a burst of warmth at the thought of spending time with both his little brother and his older brother. “So the plan is–”

“No, no, no” Touya interrupted. “I saw what the plan was. It was dumb. No, you need to listen to me. I know how to fuck with Endeavor.”

Hitoshi and Shouto passed a look between them.

“What do you have in mind, Aniki?” Shouto asked. Touya’s eyes glinted in a way that reminded Shouto that while Touya wasn’t a villain, Dabi was.

“I have a plan.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

Shouto had never thought that he’d be back here.

Even more than that, he never thought he’d be back here laughing.

Fuyumi and Natsuo had moved out ages ago, so the empty manor seemed even emptier than it ever did. Endeavor was still out, and hopefully would be for a while. Technically, they didn’t break and enter, and therefore committed no crime. Originally, Touya had planned on busting through a window, but Endeavor had never asked for Shouto’s house key back. He’d also never officially banned Shouto from the property.

“So,” Hitoshi said to the camera. “My little brother–”

“I’m older than you.”

“-forgot some things when he left, and so we’re here to help him get his stuff. That’s the official story and we’re sticking with it.”

Touya snorted and hefted his bag of supplies. “Now, for the record, I definitely wasn’t in favor of burning down the entire house and dusting off my shoes,” Touya said over his shoulder. “But trust me when I say, this will be better.”

“Also,” Hitoshi continued. “I, as a hero in training, am absolutely not bugging the house in order to get Endeavor's reaction. No siree.”

“Neither am I,” Touya says, gleefully as he hides a small camera in a painting’s frame. “As a dutiful friend of the family, I’m helping with security.”

From behind the camera, Shouto added. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

oh yes we absolutely agree with you

I believe you entirely

Nope nothing sus here

perfectly innocent yup

I mean i actually do believe Shouto

so we not burning down his house?

omg thats a fucking huge ass mansion

steal a tv

With that, Touya started pasting a giant wall art of All Might’s face to the wall.

“It’s beautiful,” Hitoshi wiped an invisible tear from the corner of his eyes. Then, he got to work moving every piece of furniture ever so slightly to the left, dropping tiny but very sharp plastic All Might figures between cushions and behind pillows. And then he scattered the extras around the floor to hopefully be stepped on by bare feet.

“Which is his bedroom?” Hitoshi asked.

“Furthest door down that hallway,” Touya answered before Shouto could.

“Got it,” Hitoshi disappeared. Shouto debated for a moment for as to which brother he should be filming, but then he decided to follow Hitoshi. Touya seemed to be struggling a bit with getting the wall art to stick. Hitoshi was in Endeavor’s room, putting little stickers of All Might’s face on everything, but in unobtrusive areas where they wouldn’t be discovered right away.

“And the best thing is,” Hitoshi said without looking up from what he was doing. “These are all cheap ass dollar store shit, so if he tries to peel ‘em off they’ll leave that shitty resedue that you need glue remover to get off.”

Shouto nodded, accidentally moving the camera as he did so. When Hitoshi was done, he stepped back and took in the room as a whole. It was spartan, with the only decorations being various awards and trophies that Endeavor had been awarded over the years. The overall color scheme was mostly gray with a few splotches here and there of brown. For as long as Shouto can remember, being called into this room meant pain. It meant kowtowing on the ground until his knees went numb as his father ranted. It meant whipping. It meant a heavy boot on his back. It meant fire. It meant whatever he’d done or hadn’t done had been serious. Going into his father’s room to “talk” meant–

“This is boring,” Hitoshi declared after a moment. “Honestly, we’re doing the man a favor.”

That startled a laugh out of Shouto. Hitoshi darted out of the room and was back moments later with spray cans in All Might red, blue, and gold. Hitoshi tossed Shouto the gold. “Here, baby bro–”

“I’m older than you.”

“-that’s for you. Just put that down on the window sill so it can still see us.” Shouto obliged, and then looked for a long moment at the can in his hands. He tried to think of the perfect thing to say. The perfect comeback to years of abuse. (It was easier to think that word now, now that he’d talked about with the Hound Dog and Dad and Papa and Kacchan and Izuku and Hitoshi. It didn’t hurt as much anymore. Nothing hurt as much anymore.) He tried to think of something profound. Something eloquent. Something suitable to match the crime.

He couldn’t think of anything.

Hitoshi noticed his hesitation. “What’s wrong, Halfy?”

“I don’t know what I want to say to him.”

“I mean…” Hitoshi trailed off and Shouto looked up at him, and then noticed that Hitoshi hadn’t been writing anything at all. Rather, there was a rather impressive mural of a dick on fire. Hitoshi shrugged at Shouto’s bemused look. “It’s not like you have to write a poem.”

Shouto looked at his can. He climbed on the bed, standing up, taking joy in not removing his shoes and idly hoping he’d stepped in dog poop at some point that day. Then he reached up as far as he could go, and started spraying the ceiling above the bed.

“WORLDS WORST NUMBER TWO

I HAVE A BETTER DAD THAN YOU

YOURE A FUCKING DOUCHE CANOE”

Hitoshi watched him, his face twisting with laughter. Then he stood next to Shouto and added a final line.

“PEEPEEPOOPOO.”

Together, they admired their work.

“I am a mature hero in training.” Hitoshi announced.

Touya peeked his head in. “Hows it going in here.” Then he spies the poem. He barks out a short laugh. “Beautiful. Art. Poetry.” He has a drill in his hand, and he makes a hole in the corner of the wall where there’s a good angle to see the rest of the room. He presses one final camera bug into the hole, smoothing it in so that it’s flush against the plaster and nearly invisible unless you know what to look for. Then, he grabs the camera from the sill and points it at the ceiling. “Behold.”

All was still for a moment. And then they heard the unmistakable sound of the front gate opening. “Scramble” Touya hissed. They dart down the hall and towards the back of the house, exiting through the garden and leaping over the back fence. They don’t stop running, keeping up the pace as they leave the manor behind them, but after a moment, Touya starts laughing.

It’s a more free laughter than anything Shouto has heard from his older brother in… ever. He sounds young. He sounds free.

He sounds a bit evil.

Hitoshi starts laughing, too. “Please tell me you got all the cameras set up.”

“They’re recording as we speak.” Touya assures him, still smiling widely as they run.

Gradually, they slow their pace until they’re jogging side by side. Shouto is a little surprised that Touya hasn’t gone his own way yet, but he still has their camera, which is presumably still live streaming, so he doesn’t say anything. Afterall, he’s not exactly complaining that his older brother hasn’t disappeared for parts unknown. Again.

And yet, Touya seems a bit surprised when he sees where the two younger boys have led him. “This… is your new home?”

“Yup.” Hitoshi pops the p. “Papa’s probably home by now.”

Touya stops walking. Shouto and Hitoshi look at him in question. “I’ll, uh,” he pushes the camera into Hitoshi’s hands. Hitoshi looks at the screen for a moment, before saluting and turning it off. Touya watches him do this and swallows. “I’ll see you guys–”

The front door opens.

“LIL LISTENERS YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW MANY CALLERS TOLD ME ABOUT oh, hi Touya.”

Touya ruffled up in affront. “That’s not my name.”

“Sorry, sorry, Dabi.” Papa Mic smiles at him. “Thanks for watching the boys today. Come on in! Shouta set some soup to cook this morning and I think it’s ready!”

“I’m not sure-”

“There’s a place at my table with your name on it,” Mic continues, his face carefully open and welcoming. “Even if you don’t claim it today.”

Touya swallows. “Um.”

“All of our family is welcome whenever.”

“I’m not part of your family.”

“Friends?”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Loved ones, then.”

“I’m not–” Touya blinks rapidly. Mic wags a finger at him.

“Rule number seven in this house,” Mic tells him very seriously. “No one gets to decide who someone else loves.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Mic lets his hand fall back to his side, then he steps back, leaving the door open. “No, I don’t.” He admits. “But I’d like to.”

Touya looks lost. Shouto grabs his hand. “Aniki,” he says. “We have to watch the reaction together.”

Touya swallows. “Are you sure? This is your family. Not mine.”

“You’re my family.”

Touya stares at him for a long moment.

Of course, it’s Hitoshi that breaks the silence, tossing his comment over his shoulder as he embraces Mic and goes inside. “Yeah, Aniki, get your butt in here. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Dad’s pho. Its fucking to die for.”

Touya turns wide eyes at Hitoshi’s back disappearing into the house. Slowly, he nods. Mic’s smile grows as Touya slowly walks up the front steps, hesitating just before crossing the threshold into the house. Mic, moving slowly so there’s time for him to move, places a hand on Touya’s shoulder. Touya flinches anyway.

“Are you sure?” Touya asks again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I’m sure.”

Touya meets his eyes, then nods. He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself.

He goes inside.

Shouto follows, pressing briefly into Mic as he passes.

Mic closes the door behind them.

[cry1ng0v3rsp1ll3dm1lk]

i still haven’t decided if i’m going to force myself to write once a day or just let it come naturally. i’ve never been good at habits—lauren says we’re both really bad at maintaining things. and i can’t disagree with them. almost every plant we’ve ever bought has ended up yellow and shriveled up on our back patio. but i’d like to think i’m still capable of tending to something, someday.

next friday, i’ll be a nanny. i met the family at a queer expression event last month, and their kid just straight up ran around in circles the whole time. i just finished reading a book about these twins who literally combust into flames, though. so at this point in my life i think i feel capable of wrangling a hyperactive four year old.

i went over to their house yesterday for the first time to talk about what my schedule/compensation was going to look like, and laurel was already sitting in a miniature chair on the front porch, anxiously awaiting my arrival. i wondered if her parents had explained to her that we were going to be best friends for the summer. her mother, robin, popped her head over the garden fence to say hello. her teeth are crooked and kind of gray, but she is so beautiful—she has these bright blue eyes that anybody would just kill for.

we left our shoes at the front door and headed into the house. they moved here about a year ago (around the same time lauren and i moved into our place), but the house already looked so lived in. rainbow garlands from the birthday party section of target permanently hanging in the kitchen, laurel’s art on the fridge, a thrifted mid century dining set. jesus, fuck. lauren and i haven’t even hung up shit on our walls.

we sat and talked in the living room while laurel played imaginary games by herself. it felt weird that we were talking about her as if she wasn’t literally right there, but she didn’t seem to mind. robin told me about laurel’s obsession with star wars and spider man, and explained that her favorite thing in the world was to play dress-up. suddenly, laurel appeared in a full-on darth vader costume (giant mask and all). robin tried to ask her a few questions to engage her in our conversation, but laurel was in full darth mode—selectively mute and fully concentrated on channeling the force. she silently walked around in circles, obviously completely entranced in her imaginative world. “she’s like this a lot,” robin explained, “she’s really good at playing by herself—you could honestly probably just sit back and read a book.”

i was an only child (and a weird ass fucking kid), so i see a lot of myself in laurel. i would come up with entirely different worlds in my head and just disappear into a place where i didn’t have to think about how uncomfortable it all was (existing in a human body on planet earth). i think i’ll disappear this summer, too. i think laurel and i will create our own beautiful imaginary world where nobody can even touch us.

[toomuchdickfort]

Ah. The nearby fireworks begin, I see

[lizandbo]

Snuggly s/o with bnha bois

as you see I’m trying to write and post a lot cuz I feel bad

prolly no one cares but yk

kirishima

- this man won’t care

- he would want all the snuggles in the world

- if your busy with almost anything he would get upset

- he’s just so used to the way you treat him

- just snuggles is all his mind would say

- would almost probably start losing his training time because of it

- maybe idk

- he’ll be wanting to be more cuddlier than you

- so y’all might be in some intense cuddles sessions

- so many fucking cuddles

- will kiss your knuckles and compliment you each kiss

- ya guys will prolly have a competitive competition about who can cuddle With the most best quality cuddles ever

- if you do do this he will eat and cuddle at the same time

- kiribby would feed you kinda forgetting he has his own

- just all the fluffiest fluff of the fluff kind

Tenya

- look hes a bit shy the first time or 5 but that that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love your cuddles

- he jus gotta get used to it

- like a month or two

- but when he gets into he gets into it

- very stiff the first couple times it jus not that great tbh

- he feels like everything is too good to be true

- omfg he blushes so much and gets so hard

- I feel like he twitches when he’s nervous

- your jus hugging iida and kissing like theres no tomorrow

- while he’s malfunctioning inside like there is also no tomorrow

- he’s kinda insecure bout everything when ya guys cuddle

- like the one movement and you could die kinda thang

- if you question him while you just tryna cuddle your boyfie like twitching much?

- he’ll get so confused like he doesn’t know that he makes it a living hell because of his mental rules

- like dont do this position cuz they might be uncomfortable like bitch you just want some snuggles but all you get is struggles

- but after the 20th time cuddling then he’s the master

- just take your time amf he’ll be the best cuddle to cuddle with

- jus make sure that your not sleeping with a wooden board

sato

- yeah you guess it but he def baking you shit and cuddling no matter what

- look your gonna gain at least a pound or two when your dating him kk? - he so big and broad and no matter what your size he’ll try to make you feel small if you want to feel that way

- he’s also very snuggly but give him a chance or two cuz he a lil shy too

- his face is priceless when you hug him first

- ok let’s be honest here he doesn’t have the balls to initiate the first physical action

- I’m sorry but he doesnt

- so when you do go first he’ll be all for it with a bit of shyness

- if ya wanna cuddle all day he will cuddle all day

- one day he will wanna test who cuddles better

- also he loves when y’all nuzzle into each other’s necks or any area

- he jus has these really fluttery butterflies in his tummy

- he jus wanna be lovedddd

Katsuki

- hella hesitant

- he doesnt wanna hurt you if you do cuddle togther

- blushes like a mf tomato

- he wants to face you but he doesn’t wsny you to see his face so he just nuzzle his face into something

- be stiff as a board the first few times

- over time he’ll come into an end of being overreacting each time you touch him out of affection

- he’s lovign this but he just doesn’t know how to react enough to your standards

- so awkward trying to receive your affectionate side

- just squeeze him and he’ll combust

- he’ll be angry at himself by acting childish and being so weak to the point of not knowing how to handle a simple situation so he jist goes all in for it

- you love all of it and just tell him yk bring it in

- thinks its cringy af sometimes

- hols your hands wihtout looking

- kiss his face and he’ll be so blushy it’s so fucking cuteee

- look everything bout him is cute but when you cuddle AHHH his cuddles are so good

[vicvpcvke]

Home is Where The Heart is

Vi x reader 

Not exactly a hc but also not a full imagine? I’m not quite sure what this is but enjoy! 

Warnings: none 

if a woman vi ever looked at me like this id actually combust

you and Vi lived together in the undercity after she’d gotten out of Stillwater 

You sometimes missed that old worn down apartment, with its leaky pipes and quirky floor plan. One thing you missed the most was the ledge a few floors up, where you and Vi would look out onto the city. 

Vi couldn’t wait to get out of there, she made this very clear. But wherever you were was home to her. 

One night you two were laying on the ledge, looking out into the array of neon green and purple lights against the rust of the buildings. You watched the city but Vi was admiring at a much smaller and beautiful canvas. She brought her hand to your cheek and told you softly, “I’m going to get us out of here. You deserve the world, and I’m gonna try my fucking hardest to give that to you love.” 

You assured her you were happy, that all you needed was her. You would’ve been perfectly satisfied with an apartment in the undercity that didn’t shake when the neighbours walked around upstairs, but Vi promised you the world and she gave that to you. 

A few months later she managed to become an high status enforcer (with the help of Caitlyn of course), and was able to move to two of you into a home in Piltover, provided by the government. 

You just about cried the first time she unlocked the doors to your new, much grander apartment. (Vi was tearing up too but wouldn’t let you see) 

She’ll never forget how the golden light from the enormous windows embraced you while you danced around the open living area. You stopped to look back at her, and caught her trying to wipe her cheeks. You stepped toward her, gently grabbing her calloused hands and pulled her towards you. You set your hand on her cheek and wiped away the remaining streams of tears with your thumb, gently kissing her after, “I love you Vi.” “I love you, y/n”

The first night in your new home you couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t noisy enough. There weren’t enough iridescent lights blaring into your room. You didn’t realize how much you’d feel like an imposter moving from  the undercity to the golden streets of Piltover. you detangled your self from the sheets that were probably worth more than your old home, and walked out to the living room. 

The massive floor to ceiling sliding door had been opened, and there your girlfriend sat, outside on the balcony overlooking Piltover. You came up behind her and softly traced your hands from your shoulder down to her stomach, hugging from behind. You moved beside Vi and leaned against her. She watched the city as you watched her, until your eyes started to close on themselves. 

Vi didn’t notice you’d fallen asleep until the sun had started to rise over the buildings in the distance. Once you woke up for the day you found yourself back in bed wrapped in blankets. Vi had left you a note on her pillow

Good morning princess, Sorry if I wasn’t the most comfortable pillow, I thought you’d get a better sleep in a real bed. I know the move is hard for you, it is for me too, but we’ll make this place our home. I promise. Wherever I am with you, is home. The nights will get easier. What do you say we give this fancy place some undercity flair when I get home huh? See you after work, I love you. Vi ~ p.s. theres so many rooms in this place I think we should…test them all out if y’know what I mean >;)

[catboyantichrist]

hi! may i please request the brothers with an MC who's cat came with them to the Devildom?

the cat is very loud and very mischievous but also very sweet :)

bonus cat photos:

thank you so much!! have a wonderful day and good luck with the new blog!

BHJFLHRAUGARL YOUR CAT IS ADORABLE- they deserve the best out of this world. You have a good day too ^^ and thank you!

☆The Brothers Living With GN!MC's Cat☆

Let's paint the scene. You just got home after a long day, and you just wanted to forget everything that happened. You decided to spend time with your precious cat! Sadly the little shit decided to scratch you and all of the furniture around you.

"Can we just have one calm day?" You yelled out at your cat. The cat doesn't give a response and just decides to jump off of the fridge they resided on.

You caught your cat and was about to give them the lecture of a lifetime (as if they could listen) when suddenly you stumble back. You, and your cat both land on the floor of RAD.

It's been a few months. You and your cat both live in the House of Lamentation. Your cat has never been more well behaved. I guess cats do belong in Hell, cause (most) of the brothers adore them. This is some of the things you've caught the brothers doing with your cat.

Lucifer:

-"Is that... a cat? Why must Diavolo never warn me about these things."

-Lucifer is frustrated. I mean you can even see his eye twitching slightly if you look fast enough. He's been telling Satan for centuries that he isn't allowed to get a cat, and now there's one here. Another responsibility to look after.

-That frustrated with your cat lasts a total of 2 weeks, until he actually connects with the cat? He's like the Dad who never wanted a pet and then loves them the most.

-He keeps tons of cat toys in his office, and a special cat bed so that there's somewhere where they can hide if the brothers are fighting for their attention. Of course, MC is always welcome to do the same.

Mammon:

-"AHHHH SOMEBODY HELP! THE GREAT MAMMON IS GETTING ATTACKED!!"

-Mammon's not getting attacked, your cat is just playing with the feathered keychain on his belt.

-It takes Mammon a minute, but eventually he understands what the cat is doing.

-"Not on my watch! How dare ya play with my precious keychain!". Mammon gives in almost immediately once your cat scratches him.

-Your cat and Mammon have some sort of rivalry going on, as Mammon will continuously hide objects from your cat that they're trying to steal.

-Mammon will also try to take pictures of your cat asleep so that he can sell them. One time he found you sleeping with your cat, and immediately got jealous. I swear you could even see the cat make a face similar to a smirk

-"I'm their first ya hear?! You wont get away with this!"

-Make sure to treat Mammon and your cat equally, they'll eventually make a truce and get along

Leviathan:

-"Don't let that little normie anywhere NEAR my fish!"

-Yeah um... Levi isn't a huge fan of your cat. Mainly because they tried to eat Henry once and it traumatized the both of them.

-Although Levi and your cats relationship started to mend once he saw them annoy the crap out of Mammon. Of course he recorded it and uploaded it to DevilTube!

-When the video went viral, an idea stuck Levi, he helps Asmo run your cat's Devilgram, but Levi mainly uploads videos of your cat attacking Mammon.

-One time Lucifer made Levi come to school for a student council meeting and he took that as the opportunity to bring your cat to school to scare other demons.

-Levi isn't required to go to school for anything anymore.

Satan:

-It is taking all of Satan's power not to spontaneously combust at the sight out of your cat. First of all, it's a cat second, Lucifer will go INSANE at the sight of this. Or well, he will overtime.

-Definitely tries to spend the most time with your cat, mainly by hanging out with you. At first he was just using you for the cat but overtime he started enjoying your company more and more.

-Did... did Lucifer connect with the cat? Satan is devastated. You're probably going to have to spend a few days with Satan and cheer him up, preferably by dates to the library? 😏

-Well there's no problem anyways, after one of the dates you and Satan went on, your cat came rushing to Satan. Did this make him tear up a bit? Maybe, but he knew your cat loved him!

-Which of course they do, but I think they loved the food in Satan's pocket a bit more.

Asmodeus:

-Congratulations! Your cat is now the centerpiece of Asmo's new outfits. They're perfect for the aesthetic he's wanting to go for anyways.

-He will spend tons of time caring for your cat, and also buying them accessories! Sometimes... a bit much. You'll see your cat waddling around with a massive sweater on them sometimes.

-Asmo now brings a fur roller everywhere he goes. He finds your cat absolutely adorable! But the cat fur not so much. He will not hesitate to completely bar off his room if he has too. What if one of his future admirers come to his room and are allergic to cats!

-Asmo does enjoy cuddling with you and your cat of course! After all he would get to spend time with two adorable creatures!

Beelzebub:

-Beel no. Don't eat the cat!!

-It doesn't take long for Beel to catch on that the cat isn't food, and once he does he immediately gets attached to the small creature. He always makes sure that your cat is well fed.

-Although sometimes a bit too well fed, you know he means well but you're gonna have to teach him how much food is okay for a human world cat to eat.

-Playing with the cat is so much fun! If your cat wasn't active before, they are now. Beel's cheery attitude even puts your cat in a good mood! Although he did try to take your cat on a walk once... never again.

Belphegor:

-Two words. Cuddle buddy. Normally your cat is fine with cuddling, but sometimes Belphie's death grip is hard to handle. If your not careful you can hear your cats faint meows for mercy as Belphie is latched onto the cat for dear life.

-Obviously he's not hurting the cat, he tries to be as gentle as possible but unlike Belphie, the cat doesn't sleep 24/7.

-One night Belphie turned on his star projector in his room and noticed your cat bouncing around trying to scratch/eat the stars. He now likes to turn on the projector and move it around to let your cat play. Extra points because it requires minimal effort.

-If he finds you and your cat cuddling while asleep he will join you. The cat doesn't dare to even try and scratch him because even they know that Belphie gives no mercy.

[obeiii-mee]

Hello! Can I request an hc about a shady MC who's not phase by anything in Devildom with the brothers (and Diavolo?? he deserves love!!!)? Like, when Luci's like "i CaN KiLL yOu hUmAN", MC's reaction was like "Oh... congratulations then." i need more shady mc who may or may not be planning to ruin your life😂😂 Thanks and take care!!❤❤

The Brothers + Diavolo with an MC that is not phased by DevilDom

__________________________________

Pls I need more shady MC, they would not take any shit from the brothers. Put any Gen Z-er with these guys and you’ve got yourself a suicidal and reckless human exchange student.

They wouldn’t know what to do with one of those ahaksbakanhaka you’re right, Diavolo deserves all the love >:(((((((

You better take care too >:( thanks for sending me this big brain request. I’ve been preoccupied with other projects so I took a while to get to this ask. Hope you’re doing OK💙

____________________________________

Lucifer:

-He thought having a human exchange student was going to be bad enough as it is but this…..this was so much worse than he could have ever imagined

-The moment you arrived, he already knew you were going to be a problem child and a persistent one at that

-Literally the first thing you asked him was : “Why do you look like an off-brand Levi Ackerman?”

-And he was left there, astounded, confused and offended because he had no idea who you were talking about (cuz at that point you hadn’t met the third eldest) and the tone you had was, frankly, pissing him off

-You kept wondering off on your own????? Without looking like you gave a shit even though you almost walked into a butcher’s shop that specialises in human meat???? Tf MC?

-Also really irritated that you couldn’t be intimidated and that DevilDom was like a playground to you, for some reason? Like, MC get out of the fiery pits of eternally tormented souls- this is Hell, not the McDonald’s ball pit ffs

-Things did not improve for him lmao, by the end of the first week he had already ripped out a good chunk of his hair because of you

-“MC, you should know by now provoking demons like this for no good reason is only going to make life harder for you. Keep this up and you’ll get killed in no time because of your behaviour.”

-“Great, can we have a hip-hip and a hurray?”

-In the span of one day, he’s had to come to your rescue six times (approximately) because you’re too nonchalant about your surroundings around literal creatures of hell

-He doesn’t have enough coffee or will to live for this bs

-“Lucifer, I found this dead plant and brought it here because it reminded me of you.”

-“…..sigh. Why? Why does it remind you of me?”

-“Because it’s cold and unresponsive.”

-He made the consecutive decision to ignore you

-(low-key kept the plant tho)

-Honestly, you get on his nerves a lot and he has definitely contemplated killing you in the past but at the end of the day he really can’t bring himself to do it

-We both know he tried a few times lmfao

-“I will tear you limb from limb, human-“

-“Can I finish my tea first.”

-“You…wait, what?”

-“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting this tea get cold. Try to kill time before I’m done and I’ll smash this cup against your head.”

-If you try hard enough, you might even elicit a laugh out of him, especially if your shadiness is directed at any of his brother which results in him patting your head affectionately

-Nowadays he’s just concerned because you seemed to have made an alliance of sorts with Belphagour and Satan and that’s not a good sign

-For his sake, if not yours, at least try to survive the year without getting chomped on by a random demon please

-He’s too stubborn to let you die just because you’re unbothered by everything so cut him some slack and help out damn it

Mammon:

-“Oi Lucifer, how come I’m stuck babysittin’ this stupid human?”

-“And how come I’m stuck with this asshole for a tour guide, with his fake ass designer shoes and no brand sunglasses. That’s a lot of smack talk from someone with crow shit stains covering the back of his jacket. Also, did you stick your hair in a bucket of mayonnaise?”

-……..

-He was so offended lol

-Normally, humans like you cower in fear whenever demons are as much as mentioned because of the whole “I can eat you whole” thing

-And here you are; insulting the Avatar of Greed and one of the princes of Hell himself just because you didn’t like his attitude

-Don’t worry tho, he warms up to you in less than a fucking month simply because you still come to his rescue whenever his brothers start insulting him and wow, look at that, his heart is now combusting on the floor

-“Y’all have no right to criticise Mammon when he has the most self control out of all of you.”

-“Since when does Mammon have any self control? He can’t keep himself from nicking anything that looks shiny.”

-“Motherfucker, I don’t see him trying to choke me to death, respectfully pls shut the fuck up. I don’t want to say I have favourites but if I do, it’s definitely him.”

-While Mammon’s in the background, with hearts instead of pupils in his eyes like ❤️👄❤️

-He doesn’t even mind running around after you anymore (will still complain about it though because your ass is in constant danger and he’s had enough)

-Honestly, you keep starting shit with random demons, some of which are quite powerful mind you, and you don’t back down even when he’s there to step in

-Would low key love to watch you fight one of your classmates at RAD and organise a ticket selling booth for the event but Lucifer will hang him a new one if he does

-So for now, he sticks to baring his teeth at the aggravator in question and you’re there, giving the same demon the middle finger

-The way you sometimes match his energy gets him so hyped up lmao

-“Mammon, did you steal Levi’s money again?”

-“T’s none of her business human. Now go away, shoo!”

-“Bitch, don’t ‘shoo’ me, I ain’t a bird. Now tell me, did you?”

-“…..Why do you ask?”

-“Because a new flavour of instant noodles just got announced, called ‘Super Hell-Sauce Flavour’ and I thought you might be more interested in that than wasting the money on gambling.”

-“….ok but only if you come with me to buy some.”

-This…this is true love right here

Levi:

-Oh no, now there’s two of you

-Why do I feel like his energy would match MC’s almost immediately? Maybe it’s because he spends too much time in his room on the internet like the rest of us do

-“What do you want, you stupid normie?”

-“300…..”

-“….300 what?”

-“300 mangas collected, thousands of episodes of anime watched, over 60 character figurines, plushies, body pillows, merchandise and several posters only to be called a fucking normie by a demon weeb that’s only known me for 10 minutes.”

-Boom, instant friendship

-He becomes attached to you almost immediately and now that he knows how unphased you are by DevilDom, he is seriously worried

-Hell, you’re making him consider going outside his room just to make sure you’re alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere because you decided to get on someone’s nerves that particular day

-Even during the quiz thing, when he almost kills you, you’re just sitting on the floor and awkwardly watching him as he throws a sissy fit

-Levi feels sort of conflicted with you because one one hand you’re good company and he loves having you around, you’re his Henry after all

-But on the other hand, you put yourself in so much danger it makes him paranoid so often to the point where he wants to keep you locked in his room and wrapped in bubble wrap

-Nearly had a heart attack when you almost walked right into a pit of lava like MC???? This isn’t one of his video games???? You’re not gonna respawn if you die????

-Besides all that, he gets a bit jealous of you confidence and your ability to just do whatever without fearing death or consequence

-“MC, how do you do it?”

-“Do what?”

-“How do you go about your life without a care in the world?”

-“I guess I’ll tell you my secret Levi. I’m not like other humans that’s why, I’m just so unique I do things differently.”

-“You sound like a pick me-“

-As long as you’re OK and not injured because of your carelessness, he’s indifferent about your behaviour and will even applaud you for your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing

-“lmao the human exchange student just dumped Solomon’s cooking in the trash while looking him dead in the eye 💀💀💀”

Satan:

-Your attitude towards DevilDom and demons in general kept him entertained, if nothing else

-You rarely seemed to consider how much of a threat that place really is and usually you were just running around, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rules and doing your own thing

-Which, you know, he’s all about

-I can’t say there were no incidents between the two of you

-With his short temper and your tendency to say things without caring about the consequences, there were definitely moments when he might’ve snapped on you

-“MC for goodness sake, what happened to my room?”

-“What do you mean?”

-“It’s an absolute mess! I just told you to bring me my spells and curses book, not mow through everything!”

-“It’s not my fault this place is built like a fucking labyrinth. You should be grateful I went to get it for you at all, I almost tripped and died several times on my way back. Also, you should get a new ladder for your shelves. It did the broken.”

-“MC….”

-“Yes?”

-“You are so lucky I love you.”

-Other than the fact his anger takes over him when things like these happen, he not so subtly encourages you to keep going because seeing Lucifer scowl at your antics gets him wheezing his lungs out

-I like to think Satan would be very impressed, even in the beginning, at the amount of nonchalance you can radiate at times

-I mean, you sure as hell don’t see it often and he loves how unpredictable you are more often than not

-If anything, he should probably thank you-idk how, but his patience has increased significantly every since you got here and he appreciates having some more control of his emotions

-“I’m gonna go put oil in Lucifer’s shoes.”

-“Do you have a death wish?”

-“Satan, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I concluded that this action is necessary.”

-“Necessary for what?”

-“Raising everyone’s morale! All of you seemed to feel down lately so I thought this would be fun for everybody!”

-“Except Lucifer, right?”

-“Except Lucifer. He grounded me from my D.D.D like I’m a fucking teenager who needs to be supervised-pssshht, I’m the most responsible one here.”

-“Yes clearly.”

-“Goodbye dear Satan, I may die today. But it’s for the greater good! (Dramatic exit with sound effects)”

-“WAIT MC!”

-“(pops head back in) yes?”

-“May I offer you my assistance?”

-You’re basically taking turns pranking his brothers and it’s hilarious

-Satan is not too worried about your well being simply because he knows his siblings and him are always going to be nearby to save you if you pull something stupid again

-Even so, he checks up on you throughout the day; just to make sure

-“Where were you?”

-“Running from a bunch of demons. Who wanted to go munchy crunchy on me, I assume.”

-“……”

-“Either that or people here are a lot friendlier than originally expected.”

-You can be such a handful and it really tests him, especially when he’s angry enough to begin with

-But despite your amazing talent at either getting completely lost around Hell, purposely walking into a prohibited place just because you felt like it or riling up others with how blunt you are, he still cares about you deeply

-You may be a pain the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass <3

Asmo:

-He should’ve known something was up with this particular human when you stood there, completely calm and collected, while Beel salivated at the thought of eating you on your first day

-Asmo just brushed it off for a while but it kept happening???

-The first time Lucifer ever told you off, you really went and said “Or what? Are you going to eat me? If so, you can go ahead and start with-“

-He came to your rescue and covered your mouth before you got to finish and before Lucifer unleashed his wrath on to everyone in that house

-“OOPSIE! I think MC has been spending too much time with me. Sorry Lucifer, we gotta run now! We have a party to attend, don’t we MC darling?”

-“You mean the one hosted by the guy that tried to kill me because I shoved into him on the hallway at school and then proceeded to tell him to go fuck himself right back into whatever hell hole he was born in before you came and charmed our way out of it?”

-“Yes.”

-“Ah OK. “

-You’re tiring for sure but you’re not exactly unlikeable

-You have a certain charm hanging about you that Asmo loves

-“I almost died like…30 minutes ago.”

-“WAIT WHAT?? WHY?? WHAT HAPPENED-MC ARE YOU OK???”

-“Yeah, I almost drank some poison today because someone told me it was water. It smelt off though so I didn’t.”

-“….”

-“Anyway, I got you this bracelet on my way home.”

-He really does wish you would take things a bit more seriously

-This is your life on the line, you know? What would he do if you died?

-“MC, you’re not immortal, you can die so much more easily than I can, you know that right???”

-“I don’t care.”

-“Well I do! And you should too….”

-A lot of people don’t see past his vanity tbh, because he can be such a caring person towards the people he loves

-The amount of videos he has of you appearing to be completely calm while pure chaos is descending in the background is pretty impressive

-Every time he uses his charm on you to try and get you to commit his sin, it just doesn’t work???? For some reason???? And even if it’s just with simple, innocent affection for now, he is determined to tempt you into it

-“MC~gimme a hug!”

-“But that’s social interaction and I don’t support it- do you have a charger for my D.D.D by any chance?

-Or at least die trying to ig

-Asmo loves having you around but you’re giving him wrinkles and that’s not okay >:(

Beel:

-The moment he realised how carefree you actually were, he sort of started checking up with you quite frequently throughout the day

-It’s his way of protecting you but if he could, he would follow you around all the time

-Becomes your body guard because you may not care enough about your safety but he certainly does so get ready to be carried everywhere

-You will not get hurt nor will anyone mess with you if he has a say in it and let me tell you, he does

-Thing is, his brothers mostly know him for being slightly dense in some aspects of day to day life

-He’s not perceptive of things that don’t involve food or his loved ones

-And because you most definitely are a loved one of his, he does notice how careless you are really often

-And it scares, rather worries, him because DevilDom is an incredibly dangerous place-even with all the precautions they had taken when you came

-“MC get down, you could fall.”

-“But Beel, look-I’m finally taller than everyone else! Taller than you even! Hey, should I do a backflip?”

-He has no idea why you thought jumping from 60 meter high cliff into a small river of squashed demon blood was a good idea but he wasn’t going to risk anything just because you felt like showing off your diving skills

-Proceeds to carry you away, completely unfazed

-In this case, I feel like Beel is not someone who gets bothered by the horrible things happening around there either

-As long as he has food and his family is safe and happy then he’s also happy, as mentioned above

-But he knows he’s alright with DevilDom because he’s been living here for centuries now

-A bit curious as to why you’re so unbothered

-And even more curious as to why you weren’t terrified of him transforming in his demon form after he lost control when he found out you ate his pudding

-Or more like Mammon did and pushed the blame on you

-“YOU. ATE. MY. PUDDING!”

-“Beel I love you but if you did not just see Mammon shoving the damn container in my mouth two seconds prior to this, then you might need glasses.”

-He apologised to you later for it but even so, you didn’t seem to mind like at all and he didn’t really understand why

-Unless you end up explaining why exactly you feel so indifferent about your life being in potential danger, he won’t really pry

-But now he has even more reason to follow you around like a lost puppy

-Since it’s clear you don’t really care about protecting yourself

-So now it’s his job to do it

-MC protection squad? Mostly Beel and Mammon

-ahhh he cute

Belphie:

-Oh

-You piss him off so much

-He’s trying to have his moment, you know?

-Finally getting that glimmer of satisfaction after killing a human as a way to avenge his sister’s death

-Trying his hardest to make it as miserable as possible because he has so much rage in him, he needs you to suffer

-“Harder Daddy-“

-“Oh fuck off.”

-Nah but for real, what the fuck MC

-Why does he even bother, he feels like he should be sleeping instead of dealing with your bullshit

-Even afterwards, when your future self shows up and he tries to kill you again, you look more thoughtful than irritated???

-Lucifer and Beel are literally holding him back from doing another Chocky on you and you’re standing there, looking at him with your eyebrows raised

-“Hey Belphie, I have a quick question. I know you’re trying to kill me and everything but do you like the colour blue?”

-“HUH??!?!”

-“It’s a simple yes or no question Belphie. Do. You. Like. Blue?”

-“WHAT DOES IT MATTER???!!!”

-“BELPHAGOUR, AVATAR OF SLOTH-YES OR NO, JUST FUCKING ANSWER!”

-“YES! FUCK YOU!”

-“Ah ok thanks. I like blue too :)”

-????????????

-Pls he felt like sticking his foot down your throat

-As of late, he’s kind of glad he didn’t manage to scare you away that day and that he didn’t traumatise you or something

-At the time, he was mad because he didn’t understand why you weren’t scared but now he just wants to make it up to you

-“You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry MC, I won’t blame you if you decide to stay away from me now.”

-“Stfu dipshit, what’s gotten you so depressed? Did you have another fight with Beel? I told you not to eat the last slice of cake.”

-“Rude ass, I was trying to apologise for my past mistakes-let me repent will you?”

-“Said no demon ever. Now let’s go hang out you emo bitch.”

-Y’all vibe together on a spiritual level once that shit gets sorted out

-But he’s kinda scared you might pull out a knife on him ngl

-Obviously, you’re still annoying as fuck with that indifferent attitude of yours but he can live with it

-He appreciates the fact that you’re not scared of him, even after what he’s done

Diavolo:

-Ah yes, the future King of DevilDom himself

-He’s very enthusiastic about the idea of you having fun this year…..and to keep you alive….

-He, of course, expected a range of reactions from you when he first summoned you here

-None of which were “Ok but could you not have given me a heads up? Before the whole teleportation thing? I face-planted your onto marvellously polished the floor and now I think I lost even more brain cells than before.”

-He felt so bad gagajajahahwgehhsb

-He apologised for bringing you out here without any warning like that and then proceeded to introduce you to everyone

-Diavolo is actually kind of relieved to see you’re handling everything pretty well

-He thought that maybe DevilDom was too much for a human to deal with

-Meeting Barbatos also went incredibly smooth

-“Barbatos? The one that cleans the floors right? Big fan of your work, I could eat off the floor of the main hall.”

-He’s so glad to see you getting along with everyone and not getting intimidated by the brothers

-It gets him excited thinking about how the exchange program is gonna work and all three realms will be united

-But he’s not stupid so don’t think he’ll allow you to stumble around, getting up to all sorts of mischief

-He always has someone watching you because he would hate to see you die, despite being pretty fond of your carefree attitude

-“MC, please be careful. Most demons here aren’t all that nice.”

-“Aye aye Captain.”

-He fears that many demons would take your indifference as a challenge and try to assert dominance or something by kidnapping you

-As far as creatures of hell go, they love installing fear in people

-So he always keeps an extra eye open for you

-And he’ll be there to help you if something goes wrong

-But other than that, he’s pretty chill as well and he finds you so hilarious, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone as eccentric and dramatic as Mammon and Asmo

-Idk what else to add here, Diavolo is very accepting and as long as you don’t get hurt, he’s glad you can get used to your new surroundings so easily

———————————-

Al~

[gotnofucks]

Colour Me Red

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: Your boss is chasing you like the proverbial hound of hell, and one vibrant shade of red is going to be his undoing, and yours.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Oral sex, allusions to smut, suggestive talking, kinda workplace harassment but not really, boss and employee relationship, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is for my jaan Lexi’s 700 Challenge. Congratulations baby girl @bluemusickid​ , you deserve this and so so much more. Every day I live in awe of you and can only love you more. I’ve chosen the colour Red for this challenge.

Most people arrived at work early to impress their boss. You came early to avoid yours. Every morning was a race to dress up faster so that you could be out before he pulled up at your place to give you a ride. When you’d started working at the Avengers Compound, you thought your biggest problem would be alien attacks or spontaneous combustion. Yet, here you were, being pursued by your boss who was the very embodiment of the hounds of hell.

Captain Steve Rogers, for all his brilliance, was a man unaccustomed to being told no. At one word from him, agents would run in the field and fight a battle of their lives. He was respected and revered, his beautiful visage both an endearing and terrifying symbol. However, all you wanted was for him to leave you alone.

The first time you’d met him, Steve had taken one look at you and said, “I am going to fuck you”. You had gaped at him in disbelief, wondering if this was the true Captain America. You had almost gone back home, intent on finding another job but you needed the money and well, there were so many others around, how often would your paths cross with him?

Turns out, a lot. You had applied for the PR secretary position for Natasha, so imagine your surprise when you showed up for work and were told that you’ll be working for Steve Rogers. In retrospect, you should have quit that day, but the pay was far too good. You had ignored sleazy men before, how difficult could it be to ignore Steve’s advances?

From the very first day, Steve didn’t bother to hide his interest. He offered you a seat in his office, but only after you pointedly ignored his offer to sit on his lap. He had rolled his eyes playfully, explaining your role and duties before dismissing you.

“Walk slow, I want to have a good view of that ass.”

Months later now, you could say it was a well-versed routine. He would flirt with you and you’d kindly remind him about appropriate workplace practices. He would bring you flowers, and you’d pass it on to the old lady who sat behind the reception. You almost wanted to thank him, for it was because of him you’d become a pro at running in high heels.

Arranging your documents, you waited for Steve to arrive. He won’t be happy knowing he has a press conference today. You’d typed out his speech, he only needed to say it into the camera without looking constipated.

“You evaded me again today.” Steve greeted you, entering and taking his seat behind his desk. You met his eyes, unimpressed. He never gave up, did he?

“Good morning Captain Rogers.” You said with a smile, handing him the papers that he took with a wince.

“You don’t call me Captain Rogers in my dreams.” He casually said, going over the planned interview. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him the best you could. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find Steve attractive, but you were not about to sleep with your boss.

“Can you please stick to the script this time and not call the government a piece of shit organization who are greedy, racist, bigots?” You asked, not wanting another disaster management situation on your hands.

“Spot me the lie darling.” Steve said, smiling. He threw the papers on the desk, leaning back to look at you with a fond look in his eyes. “You need to let me drive you here someday. Or I’m gonna camp outside your house so you can’t run away.”

You flush, averting your gaze. God, why did he need to be so beautiful with such gorgeous eyes?

“Can you give it a rest until the press conference? I have a lot on my hands.” You said, rubbing your temples tiredly. Steve frowned, his eyes lingering over the dark circles under your eyes before getting up and coming around the desk to stand behind you, his large hands gently taking your shoulders and kneading. A soft moan escaped you, your bunched muscles relaxing under his touch.

You leaned back farther, your head meeting his firm stomach. His fingers splayed over your collarbones, heal of the hand pressing into the soft juncture where your neck met the shoulder. Groaning, you relaxed yourself, letting Steve massage the stiffness out of your body. Slowly, he leaned down, mouth right next to your ear.

“Imagine the kind of sounds you’ll make when you’re under me.” He breathed, pressing the softest of kisses on your cheek. Your eyes widened and you shot up, putting some distance between you. Steve grinned, taking in your labored breath with interest.

“Captain Rogers” You warned, taking a step back when he took one towards you.

“Say my name.” He demanded, walking purposely towards you until you crashed against the wall. Leisurely closing the distance between you both, he caged you with his hands, leaning in close. You gulped as he got into your space, his breath fanning over your heated cheeks and eyes turning liquid.

“This is inappropriate.” You said, blinking and looking away. You were scared his super senses would smell the arousal pooling between your thighs, warming your core. Steve chuckled, dipping his head as if to kiss you but stopping short.

“I’ll let it go today, since you’ll be screaming it soon enough. Why don’t you go and edit the speech, hmm? I want that part about thanking the government for their cooperation struck.” He smelled like sin, the musky aftershave he always wore clinging to your pores and infusing in your scent.

Smiling a little at the deer caught in the headlights look in your eyes, Steve pushed away from you and flicked your forehead playfully. He turned and walked back to his desk, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as your stumbled out of his office after hastily collecting your papers. Every time you thought you’d gotten used to his advances, Steve would reduce you to a bundle of nerves with a few well chosen words.

Persistent little fucker.

If he didn’t show up in five more minutes, you’ll have a coronary. The reporters were already waiting for him, and you still needed to debrief Steve about the changes you had made. Left to his own devices, he’d unapologetically curse the government out and call out their crap with Bucky and Sam cheering from the sidelines. Again. That had been a nightmare.

“Where is he?” Jacob asked. He looked frazzled, looking worriedly at Tony from across the room. His boss was just as likely as yours to cause a scandal during a press conference and when they sat together, a shit storm was definitely on its way.

“I have no fucking idea!” You swore, running a hand through your hair and hoping your makeup hadn’t run off. You’d be sitting at the podium beside Steve, ready to kick his shin at the first moment he went off script. Jacob shot you a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder, his hairline glittering with sweat.

“One day I’ll quit this job and be a professional troll just to roast these assholes. Oh god, where the hell is he?” You bemoaned.

“Right here.”

You turn around, finding Steve striding towards you. The frustration in your eyes melted as you looked him over, the crisp navy blue suit fitting his body in a way that saliva pooled under your tongue. Shaking your head, you wagged a finger at him, trying your best to give him an angry frown instead of fuck me eyes.

“You’re the reason I’ll get greys so early in my life.” You scolded. Steve, however, lost his smirk. His eyes were trained hard on you, eyebrows turning in as if deeply disappointed. When his eyes met yours, you unconsciously stepped back and stumbled into Jacob. You knew Steve had a temper, but that anger had never been directed so harshly at you before.

“What the fuck?” He hissed from between clenched teeth. You blinked in surprise, completely at a loss of words about why he was suddenly so angry. You exchanged a bemused look with Jacob who was inching away from you, eager to be out of sight of the fire that was so obviously burning in the captain’s eyes.

Gulping nervously, you peered at him and cleared your throat. “Captain Rogers?” Your voice was soft and confused, and yet it only seemed to incense Steve more. He made a deep rumbling sound in his chest before grabbing you by your arm and pulling you away with him. You protested, trying to steer him back towards the conference but you were no match for his strength. He remained silent as you tried to loosen his grip on your arm, alarm evident in your voice at this unexpected aggression.

He brough you back to his office, pushing you in before he shut the door with a loud bang that would be sure to scare off anyone who might have wanted to step in and save you. Facing him in bewilderment, you opened your mouth to ask him what the fuck had gotten into him when he raised a hand in warning.

“If I hear ‘Captain Rogers’ pass one more time from your lips, I’ll shut you up in a way that will leave your throat sore for days.” He growled. Your breath hitched, fear and thrill spreading like venom through your blood as he prowled towards you, completely masculine and yet feline in his approach. Your legs refused to follow your command to move away and stayed rooted to their spot, trembling when Steve was standing right before you.

“Say my name.” He whispered. You licked your lips, eyes locked with his as his name passed your lips for the first time ever.

“Steve”

It was barely audible and yet you could see the shiver that ran down Steve’s body, a victorious growl expelled from his throat and suddenly you were pulled flush to his chest, his lips enveloping yours and branding a searing kiss on your lips. You gasped into his mouth, clutching his shoulders to keep steady on your legs that had turned to jelly.

“You dare,” Steve said, pulling away to glare at you, “you dare wear that shade of sin on your mouth in front of the world?”

It took you a moment, brain still in shock from the intimate embrace you’d just came out from when you registered what he said. Taking in his words along with the red that bled from your mouth to his, you sputtered in indignation.

“Did you drag me in here because I wore a red lipstick?!” You asked, slapping his chest to push him away. Steve, unhappy with your ire, pulled you closer still and slowly traced the curve of your bottom lip, pulling back his thumb to show you your lipstick that sat in stark contrast to his pale skin.

“My girl doesn’t go out looking like this in front of the world.” He countered. You scowled, twisting in his hold so you could knock some sense into the sexist bastard.

“I won’t be policed by somebody who regularly wear three sizes too small t-shirts to fuck with my ovulation cycle deliberately. And what the fuck does it mean ‘looking like this’? What do I look like to you Captain Rogers?” You sassed, breathing heavily.

Steve fisted your chair, tilting your head back as he possessively ran his nose down your neck and sniffed appetitively. “Looking like this, like the forbidden fruit that caused man to fall. You are already my undoing, do you wish to cause a war looking as tempting as this?”

Anger that had boiled in your gut disappeared as if doused by water. Maybe you were still pissed at being treated this way, but the heat that simmered deep in your bones overpowered it. His words set your heart on fire, a raging desire you rarely let yourself feel near him sending you straight into his arms, your head buried in his massive chest that cradled you close. Oh so close.

“There are ten different things I have to say to you about what just happened here, but I’ll do it later when my sanity has returned to me.” You said and Steve chuckled, his arms around you strong like boulders.

“If my kisses alone drove you insane, you’ll be a puddle of dumb mess after I’m done with you.” He huskily whispered in your ear and your core pulsed, a warm gush flooding your panties. This man would be the death of you. For months you’d fought the urge to let him fuck you on his desk and in the elevator, trying your best to overlook this eye fucks and flirting only to end up in his arms, right where he had prophesized you belong the moment he clapped eyes on you.

You didn’t believe in destiny, but then again Steve Rogers didn’t need a divine force to interfere on his behalf to get him what he wants. This moment had been building for a while now, like a volcano threatening to erupt until it finally did, encasing those close to it in scalding layers of passion and sin and love.

“I love this shade but just this once, I’ll make an exception. I’ll wipe it off.” You conceded. This was not you accepting defeat, just a compromise. There was much left to talk about and discuss, but you had a hoard of reporters waiting for the good captain to make his big speech.

You reached for the napkins on his desk, intent in quickly wiping your lipstick off when Steve grabbed you to himself again, cupping your face.

“Oh no honey, that trace of desire won’t stain a piece of paper. The only place its going to be is smeared on my cock. On your knees.” He ordered, very much like he did on the field. And yet, the order was as much a request. You could say no and drag him to the conference right now with no consequences. He was the same man who came by every morning to give you a ride despite knowing you’d already have left. He was the same man who cheekily rolled his eyes when you snubbed his affections, and yet never said a mean word to you. What would it feel like, marking this exemplary man with your colour, knowing as he walked that he was coloured in you?

You sank to the floor, hands already working to free his cock from the confines of his pants. Steve looked at you, letting you do everything, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Peering up at him, you marveled at the fact that it took so long to have you here like this.

“You could launch a thousand ships even on your knees.” He said.

Your lips pressed against the head of his cock, kissing him delicately. Steve jerked at the first touch, digging his fingers in your flesh when you licked him from head to base, suckling lightly, teasingly. You adored the noises that escaped him, loving that he didn’t even think of hiding them from you. When it came to desire, Steve Rogers didn’t mince his words.

His cock was beautiful, silken and hard in your fist and on your tongue. He tasted like the sea after a storm, salty and electric, dangerous and beautiful. Loving him this way came easy, and though you hadn’t had much experience with cocks as big as his, you were determined to show him your feelings with a gusto. Running your tongue along his slit with an impish grin, you swallowed him deep, humming to send vibrations up his length. Had your mouth not been stretched around him, you would have smiled wide at the curse he just yelled.

Picking up your pace, you bobbed your head and rolled his balls, getting high on his taste and sounds as he came undone in your mouth, spilling his essence that went thickly down your throat and ended with a moan from both of you. Pulling away, you saw his member streaked with the red traces of your lipstick and an animalistic possessiveness swelled in your chest. You marked him.

Steve helped you stand up, kissing you deep as he seemed unable to utter anything at the moment. You reveled in his touch, holding him close and wiping the stray tear that was lingering at the corner of your eye.

“You know its love, don’t you?” He asked you softly, the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him.

Was this love? Was it love when you’d secretly smile at his fixation with you? Was it love that you always kept a flower from his bouquets before passing it on to the old lady? Was it love when you could read his tiredness in the lines of his forehead and make his coffee stronger? Maybe it was. Maybe it was love because there was no other way you’d have went on your knees to worship a man. Unknowingly, in accepting every ‘no’ you threw his way, he had earned your ‘yes’. In forsaking the access to your body, you had gifted him your heart. Holding his gaze, you pressed your lips to his palm, smiling.

“It is love.”

“Mr. Stark, where is Captain Rogers?” A reporter asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to be a part of this conference?”

Jacob groaned, kicking Tony’s shin repeatedly to no avail. He wished he could slap a hand on his boss’s mouth and drag him away, because the glint in Tony’s eyes meant that he would be working damage control for the next coming weeks.

“Rogers, you ask?” Tony said grinning, his face alight in mischief. “Friday just gave me some million dollar worth information on that, and I am proud to announce to the public that the world’s oldest virgin just got his dick wet.”

Banging his head on the desk in the view of the clambering reporters, Jacob cursed you and your libido that had ruined him.

“Why couldn’t they wait until after the conference?” He moaned, jumping out and almost tackling Tony who was about to give the media some ‘video proof’. “Oh no you don’t Mr. Stark, you sir are on time out. I’ll be reporting you to Miss Potts!”

[hops-hunny]

Just a Flight Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Ilvermony!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request N/A

Summary: Neville has a cutie who lives in America but no one seems to believe him.

Warnings: None! 

A/N: This isn’t a request but it’s based off of me rambling here and slightly off of the vibe telepatia by Kali Uchis gives off.

If there was one thing Neville was thankful was it was the absolute goddess he got to call his girlfriend. It was funny the way they first began talking to one another. (Y/n) had been trying to contact a friend at Hogwarts but after the long trip from Ilvermony to Hogwarts, her owl was quite exhausted and ended up bringing the letter to Neville instead. Neville saw the poor bird, giving it a bit of bird seed and water that he kept in the green house before he set off to find the rightful owner of the letter. Luckily he had 3rd period with the girl who thanked him before excitedly yanking the letter from his hands. When Neville went to go check on the owl, he saw that it had already left, leaving a heart shape in the bird seed.

After that day, Neville hadn’t really thought about the incident that much. Well, that was until he saw the same owl fly towards him with a letter in its mouth. He smiled fondly at it rubbing under its chin with his finger before going to give the letter back to the owl until he noticed it had his name on it.  He ripped it open, careful to not damage the envelope before reading the letter.

Dear Neviile,

Thank you so so so much for getting the letter to Gwen! Gwen is a good friend of mine who I had been missing dearly and if not for your kindness she would have never received my letter. 

As you may be able to tell from the seal on the letter, I attend Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry. I've heard of how grand and great the infamous Hogwarts is, is it true? How is England in general? I've never had the pleasure of traveling out of America.

Oh yes! The main point of this is as a thank you, I've attached a package of my favorite American sweets as a token of my gratitude. The package is enchanted which is why it's so small. To restore it to its original state, place it on a flat surface before tapping it with the tip of your wand.

Sincerely,

(Y/n) (L/n)

Neville felt his face grow warm at the girl's kindness. (Y/n). 'What a beautiful name..' he thought to himself before pulling out the galleon sized package from the envelope. He pushed aside a few plants on the table in front of it before placing the package down, tapping the top with his wand. He gasped, watching in amazement as he saw the package expand. Neville wasn't quite familiar with this enchantment, perhaps he'd ask her about it in his response. His cheeks turned a brighter red. Response?

Did she want to speak to him more? He didn't want to assume but by her letter and her asking questions, it made it clear that this wasn't the last exchange she wanted to have. Was this a prank? Were the Weasley twins up to this? There was only one way to tell. Neville reached a shaky hand forward, opening the package as he closed his eyes expecting something to pop out at him but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but a box of snacks he had never seen before. He let out a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing in his heart.

After that, Neville and the girl started to talk quite a bit. Months had turned into years and he couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone far away from all the hustle and bustle of the castle. To her he wasn't the kid with unfortunate luck or the "cowardly" boy in Gryffindor. He was just Neville, her boyfriend. Neville, her kind boyfriend in another continent, far away. 

(Y/n) loved Neville just as much. It wasn't that she never had suitors approach her. In fact, she had quite a few. (Y/n) was what you could consider popular, not that she cared. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want that? However, she always felt like none of the men who'd approach her got her. They all just saw her as a beautiful woman instead of what she was, a normal girl deserving of love. That's why she liked Neville so much. No matter what he always treated her with the utmost respect and that hadn't stopped when they started to date either. 

When the two had first exchanged photos, Neville was stunned. He had been talking to that beautiful of a girl? He couldn’t believe it. It was as if Olivander himself had sculpted and carved her out of the best of wood. She had glowing (s/c) skin, soft healthy looking (h/c) (h/c) hair, and a smile that could compete with the sun on its brightest of days and win. And when he found out she was single? He would’ve been a fool not to make a move. Angels as sweet as (Y/n) didn’t come around that often. 

And although their relationship was as great as can be there was the underlying sadness: they lived across the world from one another. Every time either of them would see a couple hug or kiss in school, they’d feel a twinge of jealousy pierce their hearts. It wasn’t fair that the most perfect person in the world was off enjoying themselves in their respective countries. Although (Y/n) tried to ignore it, Neville was the type to bring it up. He’d describe in the most beautiful of words what he’d do if they were together. How he’d hold her in his arms and show her off to all of his friends. Where he’d take her on a date, the plants he wanted to show her as they were both herbology geeks. Meanwhile she’d end each of the letters discussing this topic with the same phrase as usual. ‘You know I’m just a flight away. If you wanna I could take a private plane.’ He could never ask that of her though. As much as he’d love everyday to be filled with his flower, he wouldn’t wanna rip her away from the things she had going on in her own life.

It wasn’t all bad though! After the girl had taught him the charm she used when she first sent him something, they both would send each other gifts back and forth as much as possible. Neville sent her sweaters with his scent embedded, charmed flowers, chocolate frogs, anything she wanted was hers. She’d send her own things to remind him of her as well. Her favorite stuffed animal, loads of photographs, little crochet hats she made for Trevor, more...unsavory things as well definitely not her underwear. Despite the increase in objects Neville owned, none of his friends had questioned it until he started to wear a necklace with a heart shaped piece of onyx on it with the letter (Y/f/i) carved into it.

“Oi! Neville. Where’d you get that necklace from?” Ron questioned his friend who sat across from him in the Gryffindor common room. The boys had all decided to study together which of course turned into Neville studying as they goofed off. Neville tensed as his cheeks heated up turning a pink color.

“O-oh um..it’s from my girlfriend.” He said, saying the last word as soft as possible. He prayed to Merlin that his friends hadn’t heard him but unfortunately for him they had. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about her. It was far from that. He was just a bit protective, he didn’t want anyone to try and steal her from him. Even though it was impossible since they had no contact with her, he never knew when it came to his friends. They always found a way to make the impossible possible.

“What year is she in?!”

“Who is it?!”

“No way, is she fit?!”

He finished at the chorus of voices, trying to calm them down so he could speak. They all scooted closer to him, looking up at him expectantly. “Well you see..” he trailed off, looking away as he played with the pendant around his neck. “She doesn’t go here. She attends school in Ilvermorny. But to answer your question, yeah she is bloody fit.” he responded, turning his attention back to the scroll of paper in front of him. Dean, Ron, and Seamus exchanged a look with each other trying to suppress their laughs.

“Yeah I’m sure she does Nev.” Dean said sarcastically as he joined the other two in laughter. Neville looked up at his friends confused at their behavior.

“Yeah Nev, if your nan sent it you could’ve just told us! Better than saying you’ve got a girl halfway across the world.” Ron said, pushing the boy slightly as he continued to laugh at him. Seamus was doubled over, snorting with laughter as fire whiskey shot from his nose causing the other two to howl with laughter.

“It’s not from my nan! My girlfriend really did send it to me.” he exclaimed, smacking Ron on the back of the head, before doing the same to the other two men. “Besides, you have some fucking nerve accusing me of lying when none of you have birds yourself.” he sneered, causing the boys to quiet down some.

“So harsh Neville, you didn’t have to go there mate! Well what’s this ‘girlfriend’ of yours called.” Seamus asked, doing air quotes as he mentioned the topic at hand. “You’d think it was a bit strange too if your friend suddenly mentioned a girlfriend who lived all the way in the states too wouldn’t you.”

“(Y/n). And I’ll have you know this isn’t a new thing. We’ve been dating since around 2nd year. Sure, I’d find it a bit strange if you mentioned a girlfriend in America that you had never brought up prior, but I wouldn’t find it impossible! Now if you excuse me, I have to go.” he quickly stood up, packing up his materials as he stormed off to the direction of his dorm. He sped up, ignoring the protest and begging of his friends to come back and continue to hang out with them. He had enough of them and he wasn’t gonna sit there and let himself be called a fucking liar by Hogwart’s biggest ones.

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

“Did you guys hear? Students from Ilvermony are supposed to be coming to visit!” Ron said, running up to the other four boys. “I’m just picturing how hot all the girls from the states are gonna be. All hot and leggy with those bloody accents. I could combust just thinking of it!” he exclaimed, flopping down on the couch. Neville gasped softly, looking up. Did he hear him correctly? 

“Where’d you hear that from? I didn’t hear anything of the sorts.” Hermione questioned, looking up from her book at the interesting news she had just heard. However, Neville was still frozen. Was this true? And if so, why hadn’t (Y/n) mentioned it. No, no it couldn’t be. She surely would have told him.

“I just overheard it from Dumbledore himself. They should be arriving in a few minutes! They’re staying here for a few months. It’s a part of this new thing that they’ve set up. Something about wanting the students to learn different methods and what not. They decided it’d be a good idea since summer is coming soon.” he said nonchalantly, looking over at Neville who hadn’t moved since the news left his mouth. He went to question what was up with him before his eyes lit up, recalling the conversation they had a few months ago. “Hey Neville? Didn’t your supposed ‘girlfriend’ go to Ilvermony.” the boys all suddenly interested began to ‘ooo’ exchanging looks with each other.

“See Neville, this is why you don’t lie. Lies will always come back to bite you in the rear. Perhaps Ronald i-”

“I wasn’t lying, Hermione! She really does go to Ilvermony.” he exclaimed, standing up as he wiped his hands on his pants. All of a sudden, there were the sounds of a bunch of American accents speaking which caught all of their attention. Many different students in Ilvermorny uniforms (some without them) roamed freely to explore the large and intense castle.

“God you weren’t kidding Ron, the girls are bloody fit.” Dean muttered, eyeing some girl who gave him a wink before giggling and running off with her friends. “Woah look at that one, are you kidding me? She’s a fucking goddess!” Neville’s curious hazel eyes followed his friend's words as he saw a familiar shade of (h/c) hair styled in the way his girlfriend wore it. Wait, was that his sweater? 

“That’s not just some fucking girl, that’s my girlfriend!” Neville exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“No chance.”

“You couldn’t pick a more believable one?”

“Prove it then.”

Neville went to say something before the girl turned around, locking eyes with him. She gasped, tearing up some as she pushed through the crowd of people running to him as quickly as possible. “Nev! Neville babe, is that you?” she exclaimed. Neville’s face flushed brightly taking in the girl’s appearance. She had worn the first sweater he had given her, a mossy green sweater with an obscure pattern, with a pleated skirt pairing it with a pair of boots. Neville nodded his head quickly, holding his arms out as the girl ran into him almost knocking him over. He picked her up, spinning her around quickly before setting her down, holding her soft face between his hands.

“W-what are you doing here?! You never told me you were coming to visit!” he exclaimed, wiping at the stray tears that had left her eyes. He moved his hands from her face securing them around her waist as he stared down at her. God she was even more beautiful in person.

“I wanted to surprise you! I actually found out a few weeks ago and let me tell ya, it was SO hard not to tell you!” She giggled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, smiling at her. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more handsome but bloody hell. You’re so fucking hot, Nev.” she said, feeling her face heat up. Neville flushed a bright red before leaning down, kissing the girl on the lips. She pulled him down more, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed back. The kiss was full of the love and affection they had both been craving from one another. (Y/n) tangled her hands in the back of his hair as he deepened the kiss, moaning softly. They both jumped away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Ah sorry! Nev, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked looking up at him as she intertwined his large hand with her smaller one.

“I suppose I will, even though for some reason they thought you weren’t real.” he quipped, glaring at the four boys who looked away ashamed. “From left to right there is Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. And over there,” he said pointing to the big arm chair in the corner. “That is Hermione.” he said as they all muttered ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ from some of them. (Y/n) giggled some, waving at them all.

“It’s very nice to meet you all! Nev talks about you guys all the time in his letters. Oh!” She said, eyes looking at his chest. She reached a hand forward, grabbing the engraved onyx in her hands. “The necklace I gave you!! You like it? I think it looks really good on you.” she exclaimed with a smile, happy her boyfriend enjoyed the gift she gave him. Neville once again looked at his friends chuckling some at their wide eyes.

“Of course I do, petal. I wear it everyday, everywhere I go. Right guys.” he teased, watching as they all stuttered out ‘yes ‘yep’ ‘sure does. “Come on flower, I’ll show you around the castle. I know you’ve been looking forward to that for a while. Also, you look quite cute in my sweater.”

“Thank you. I wear it quite often, even though the smell of you has worn off it still brings me good memories.” she said, playing with the slightly worn out sleeves of the sweater. “I’d love to!! Can we check out the greenhouse first? I wanna see that plant you were talking about. Maybe we can work on identifying what species it is!” he nodded in response, taking her hand once again as they began to walk off. Before they turned the corner, he quickly turned his head around using his unoccupied hand to flip off his friends before turning his attention back to his lover.

“Who would’ve thought? Longbottom with an absolute fox.” Ron said, slumping back down as he frowned. Hermione took the book she was reading smacking him upside the head.

“Maybe if you knew how to treat women you’d be with one too.”