#Luckily he didn't rip it to shreds

[universalhoneycakes]

Been collecting images to draw Lucky in, so you'll slowly start to see those get posted when I'm able to work on them.

Tiny guy is absolutely destroying that carrot toy.

original:

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Miscalculation

AN: I don't write nearly enough for Felix. Luckily, that SKZCode lab episode planted this idea in my head, and it's taken a viciously hold on me. Also, just to be super clear, despite Reader being a year old experiment, she's very much an adult. She came into the world that way. Also also, I edited this while sleepy so, hopefully it's coherent lol.

Synopsis: Your first heat hits you unexpectedly and violently one day. Thankfully, your favourite person pays you a visit in an attempt to comfort you through it. However, you both severely underestimate just how much your heat affects you. Especially around him.

General tags and warnings: Lee Felix x Fem! Reader, Scientist! Felix, Cat hybrid! Reader, lots of unethical research, Reader is an experiment, Felix tries his best to humanise Reader, doesn't really apply here but, since Reader is an experiment and Felix is a scientist there is the potential for a power imbalance, Reader is in heat, Reader is manipulative and maybe in love with Felix and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: heavy dubcon, mentions of masturbation and exploration of sexuality, virgin! Reader, kind of sort of fingering (f. receiving), humping/grinding, over the clothes touching, scent kink of sorts, clothes being ripped, nipple play (m. receiving), Reader takes charge a lot throughout this, little to no foreplay for Reader and a very unrealistic first time, piv sex without a condom, marking and clawing (m. receiving), biting (m. receiving), one mention of blood, possessiveness from Reader, dirty talk, praise and creampie.

Word count: 3.8k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Everything burns. 

Your blankets are a crumpled mess on your floor because you're certain you'll shred them into pieces with your claws if they so much as touch your overheated body right now. The persistent buzz of the air conditioner brings you no comfort. Sweat dots your forehead and you'd take off the oversized shirt that clings to your body within an instant if Doctor Bang, red faced and avoiding your frustrated gaze, hadn't insisted on some sense of propriety. Aren't these men supposed to be doctors? Trained medical professionals? Have they never seen a naked body before? He's lucky that he's the only one out of the three older men that you can somewhat stomach because if Doctor Lee or Doctor Seo had suggested you cover yourself, you would have hissed and clawed at them. 

A frustrated noise builds from the back of your throat when you can feel your sheets starting to grow damp underneath you. You've already had to change them five times in the past two days and, you feel like you're losing your mind. Actually, you just might be. Worse than the burning that emanates through your entire body and the non-stop sweat that clings to your skin no matter how many ice-cold showers you take, is the perpetual ache between your thighs. You're not stupid. This lab may be all that you've known for the entire year of your life but, you have basic instincts and common sense. Coupled with all of the sessions you're forced to sit through with Doctor Bang in an attempt to understand you and aid you in understanding yourself, you're more than aware you're aroused right now. Or ‘wet’ as Doctor Lee and Doctor Seo put it, much to the dismay of the older of the three. 

You just don't understand why. 

In the rare moments that you've wondered about your sexuality and sex in these sterile walls, it's rarely gone beyond a few curious pokes and prods at yourself. It's mostly been a neutral experience and you didn't derive much pleasure out of it. You're sure your limited knowledge and experience on the matter has hindered your ability to enjoy masturbation much but, it's not as though the four men will just give you the material or knowledge to help pleasure yourself. You're not even sure you care all that much.

Except for when you do. Thinking back to quiet nights where the silence and loneliness of the lab was too much for your mind to handle and masturbation crossed it as a hope for distraction. A brief escape from the life you've been forced to endure. So, you tried it. Flashes of a kind smile and blonde hair making your stomach twist in a way that wasn't unpleasant, just unfamiliar. Full lips and memories of a deep voice causing arousal to trickle onto your inexperienced fingers. You'd even managed to make yourself orgasm once. It was one of the few sincerely pleasant moments you've had. 

The rest centred around him too. 

“–she's deep in heat right now, Lix.” You recognise the voice as that of Doctor Bang. Your ears twitch atop your head in interest at the conversation he's having with the only doctor you've grown fond of. You're always grateful for your hearing abilities in moments like these. 

“We can't just keep her in the dark,” Felix argues and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Electricity zipping through you just at the sound of his voice and the knowledge that he's just beyond your bedroom door. The throbbing between your thighs worsens. 

“I know,” Doctor Bang sighs, “but, we won't be getting a shipment of suppressants until three days from now. We're just going to have to wait it out.” 

“We?” Comes Felix's incredulous reply, “We're not the ones suffering right now. I went to visit her last night Chris,” your eyes widen at the confession, “She was burning up and covered in sweat and, she's only had to deal with two days of it. You know it's not fair to her.” 

“What do you want us to do, Felix?” The older man argues, his voice heavy with frustration. 

“Treat her like a fucking person,” the younger man argues just as frustrated, “Tell her what's going on. We know she's incredibly smart. Maybe she has some biological way to make herself feel better that we haven't thought about or explored.” 

Silence stretches between the two for a few, long moments. 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” comes Doctor Bang's resigned reply, “Look Lix, I know that you care about her and the two of you have always been close. Too close for what could be considered appropriate,” you snort at that. Now he cares about ethics and what's appropriate? How funny. “But, Minho, Changbin and I care about her too. She's not just some experiment to us,” you find that hard to believe, “We just know when it's appropriate to step back and keep our distance. This is one of those times. We're going to try and help her through it as best as we can but, we're going to wait for the suppressants then feed them to her. That's it. End of discussion.” The sounds of footsteps echoing through the hallway are all that accompany his words. 

Well, at least you finally know what's wrong with you. You're in heat. Something they've apparently known you're capable of experiencing and have been suppressing since you gained consciousness. The fact that they're so blasé about letting you suffer in your room and wait days until you're able to find any kind of reprieve boils your blood in a way that has nothing to do with your biology. Yeah, so much for caring about you. You haven't even seen Doctor Seo and Doctor Lee since your symptoms first started. You don't even notice your claws prodding in your anger. You should have attempted to escape on those rare trips Felix had taken you outside of the lab. Consequences be damned. At least you'd have a shot at a normal life. You should have never let his warm eyes and compassion keep you coming back to this hellhole. 

Your furious, internal tirade is interrupted by your door sliding open. You don't have to turn around to know that it's Felix. His scent always betrays him before anything else. The familiar mix of bamboo and vanilla hit your senses. However, unlike the other times you'd bask in his scent, now it worsens the thundering of your heart and you notice the slick between your thighs increasing. 

“Hey,” he says gently, shutting the door behind him. All you can think to do is stare at your wall wide eyed as his scent grows closer with every step he takes towards your bed. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth just at the smell of him and the soft timber of his voice adds to the pit forming in your stomach. Your hands desperately grabbing at your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It's just Felix.  

“I just wanted to check up on you,” he adds when his greeting is met with silence. You have to fight extremely hard to not let your tail move wildly and to keep your claws retracted when he sits down on the edge of your bed. Fuck. He's so close now and his scent is overwhelming. The smell that used to bring you comfort now puts you on edge. A feeling that you've only felt sparks of now sets your entire body alight and the ache between your thighs starts to become unbearable. He needs to leave before your heat causes you to do something very, very stupid. 

“I know you've been struggling a lot lately,” the apologetic tone to his voice melts your heart and your impulses yell at you to crawl into his lap and nuzzle at him until he no longer sounds upset, “I'm sorry. We should have told you this when it started but, you're in heat. That's what's causing you to feel this way,” he explains, as though you hadn't overheard (more like intentionally listened in on) his conversation with Doctor Bang. 

“I know you're probably mad at us, at me,” you want to tell him no, you could never be mad at him but, you're afraid that if you speak now, you'll say something you can't take back, “I'm truly sorry. The suppressants will be here in a few days. Till then though, I'm here for you,” he says softly, laying a hand gently on your arm in what you assume is an act of comfort but, it has the complete opposite effect. 

Your blood turns molten in your veins and the fog that's been on the edges of your mind swallows it whole. All you can think about is getting your hands on him. Touching him. Feeling him. Mating with him. You've never felt more animal than human. 

One of the major perks of being a cat hybrid, you've come to learn, is your quick movements. Before Felix can process it, you're sitting up and pressed to his side within an instant. The confusion and concern on his handsome face is so endearing. He's so cute. You just want to devour him. 

“Felix,” your voice sounds near unrecognisable to even your own ears, “I want you to help me with my heat,” you practically purr into his shoulder. Grasping his arm and delighting in the pretty flush that spreads across his face. The ache of your canines extending doesn't bother you in the slightest. Your mind focused on nothing else but, the man that's been your lifeline for the past year. 

“I–I um I ca–can't do that,” he explains, his voice sounding strained. His attempt to pull his arm away proves to be futile. Not that he was trying particularly hard anyway. “But, Lix,” you whine, pushing your body closer to his, your breasts pressing against his arm, “Didn't you say you'd help me?” 

The way he attempts to stammer out a reply just makes him so much cuter to you. Nothing but, instinct driving you to press yourself even closer to him. Delighting in the shudder you feel run through his body when your breath hits his exposed neck. “Don't you want to help me, Felix?” You ask with a desperate edge to your hoarse voice, one of your hands travelling down the span of his lab coat until you reach his soft hand. Moving it until it's between your slick covered, inner thighs, “It hurts, Lix.” 

Felix, for his part, looks absolutely shell-shocked. Warm, panicked brown eyes staring at you unblinkingly but, he doesn't move his hand. Not even when your own is no longer holding it. Your body moves on its own. Hips chasing the brush that his fingers offer. Your lashes fluttering at the pleasure courses through you. You feel so sensitive, even his barely there touch is enough to cause you to gush further onto his fingers. 

And Felix watches it all. Watches the way you clumsily try to hump his fingers. Watches the minute expressions of relief and desire and frustration that all cross your beautiful face. Watches the way your canines sink into your bottom lip. Feels the way your sharp claws dig into his lap coat. He doesn't miss a thing. 

Impulse and maybe a fraction of ration desire push you to tug on his button up shirt and kiss him. You're moving completely on what feels natural and what you've seen a couple of movies he's watched with you. It takes him a second to kiss you back. Tentatively following the movements of your lips and guiding you in more comfortable and enjoyable directions. You swallow his stuttered groan greedily when your tongue invades his mouth. Searching for more of him to explore. To taste. To burn into your memory. 

As nice as it feels to kiss him like you've thought about far too many times in the silence of your room and, use his fingers and hand to help satiate the persistent ache that sits in the pit of your stomach, it still all isn't enough. Not even close. This time, you moan into his mouth when one of your hands snakes its way down the front of his body until it comes to rest on his lap. A particularly painful throb coming from the apex of your thighs when you feel how hard he is beneath your touch. 

“So you do want this just as much as I do,” you sigh dreamily against his lips, sparks of desire shooting through your entire body with every palm of your hand over his clothed cock. All of his adorable, little noises making your walls clench. You don't think you've ever felt pain like this in your entire, short life. Saliva pools in your mouth as his scent wafts to you. Much heavier and headier than earlier. Beneath the anxiety and fear, the arousal makes its presence known clear as day. 

“W–Wait, I–” Whatever he was going to say is cut short by you shoving him onto your bed. His wide eyes, pupils blown out and completely swallowing his irises, meeting your lidded ones as he watches you straddle his slender hips. You've always thought he was a good-looking man but, he looks even better like this, underneath you. 

Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head when you press down on him. Your drenched folds coming in contact with the evident bulge in his dress pants. Resting your palms on his stomach, you start to move. Chasing the friction against your clit desperately. Not caring all about the mess you're making of his pants. Your eyes focused on watching the way he tries very, very hard not to lose himself in the way you grind against him. His hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he lays there and let's you use him. 

Fuck. What a cutie. 

His eyes shoot to your face when you use your claws to rip his blue button up open. While the colour looks absolutely lovely on him, you much prefer the sight of his bare chest. Your tongue running over your teeth at all the skin that you now have access to. 

“He–Hey, I think we should calm d–down a bit and–” Felix tries to interject, the drop in octave of his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you. You disregard his words easily. Leaning down to shut him up with your mouth while your hands busy themselves with exploring his chest. Your canines nipping his bottom lip when he gasps into you while you trace his nipples with your claws. Sensitive too. Perfect. 

“Why stop when I can feel how hard you are for me, Lixie?” You whisper against his full lips, fingers tracing random patterns into his nipples. His hips jutting up to meet your drenched core every time you touch him a little too harshly or drag yourself along his entire length. 

“Don't you want to just give in?” You ask, meeting his blown out eyes as your hands move their way along his lithe body until they reach his belt buckle. 

“I–I–” he stutters out when you sit back up so you can gain a better view of his frustrating belt. He must see you preparing to rip his pants off too because he stops you immediately, “I–It's okay, I got um it,” he quickly responds. You shift down him a little to provide him with space to unbuckle his belt. Fortunately, he doesn't take too long. You're sure your impatience is rolling off of you in waves. 

Much to your surprise given how bashful he's been, he tugs his pants and boxers down in one go. His hard, pre-cum covered cock slapping against his stomach in his rush, his eyes pointedly looking at everywhere but, you. 

It's one thing to feel him, it's a whole different matter entirely to have his cock right there, ready for the taking. And take, you do. It's adorable how red his face is and the way he sneaks glances at you shyly when you shift back up his body until your dripping pussy is hovering over his twitching cock. Your shirt sticks to your damp body uncomfortably and, the reminder that you're still wearing it is an unwelcome one. So, you simply tug it off. Exposing yourself freely and readily to his shy eyes. 

Not that he's all that shy when you're bare for him to fully drink in. Bruised lips parting as he watches you grasp his cock with an impatient hand and align it with your dripping hole. He doesn't stop you when you begin to sink down onto him. Strained whimpers falling from his pretty mouth with every inch you eagerly swallow. The stretch only stings a little. The sensation of his scorching cock dragging along your walls more than makes up for it. It's your turn to moan once he's fully sheathed inside of you. Your clumsy attempts with your fingers don't hold a candle to this. 

The way Felix chokes on your name when you start to move will forever be etched into your memory. The pleasure clear as day on his face spurs you along with the desire to feel him inside of you for as long as you can. To make love with him in this awful place that only he gave any semblance of meaning to. To mate with him. 

You lose yourself in the way his cock feels easily. Fluttering lashes threatening to shut every time he hits a spot inside of you that makes your pace falter and your claws dig into his soft stomach. The faint, pink lines that decorate his skin cause you to preen. They look gorgeous on his skin. They look like they belong there. Like they were meant to be there. Based on the way his hooded eyes switch from watching the expressions your face morphs into, the way your breasts bounce with every movement on his cock and the way you swallow as much of him as you can, you don't think he minds or cares all that much. 

Your skin grows impossibly hotter when his hands touch you. He's careful. Watching for any discomfort but, there's none to be found. If anything, you revel in the gentle hold his hands take of your hips. Not controlling your movements but just enjoying touching you while you bounce on his cock. 

You might actually love him. 

The thought prompts you to lean down and smash your lips to his once more. The metallic tang of blood lets you know that you nipped him too hard but he doesn't care all that much. Letting you take everything you need from him right now while he lets you. You can feel the way he throbs inside of you. He tries to stop himself but, you notice the way his hips sometimes jerk up to meet you, to move with you. And the knowledge that, on some level, he wants you just as much as you want him sends you into overdrive. 

His sharp inhale echoes through your room when you sink your canines into his neck. The punctures aren't deep but, they're more than enough to satisfy you. You're not sure why or how you knew to do that but, instinct has been your driving force all night and you're going to continue to trust it. 

“We're mated now,” you sigh, thumbing his flushed cheek. 

He just looks up at you for a moment, attempting to digest your words before responding, “Mate–Mated?” 

“Mmm,” you hum in confirmation, purring when you notice the way his twitches like crazy inside of you, “You're my mate now, and I'm yours,” you explain breathlessly. A tension you're barely familiar with building in the pit of your gut that you chase. 

“But we fuck can't–” his sentence is cut off by the drawn out moans from the depths of his chest, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when you pick up your pace. He looks so attractive like this. A bruise already forming on his neck and his chest littered with faint marks from your claws. He's gorgeous. 

“I'm ah cl–close,” he gasps out, his glazed eyes meeting yours and his hands desperately gripping your hips, “You need to shit st–stop,” he manages to stutter out. You think it's amusing that he thinks you're going to stop now. Especially when you're just about to get what you want. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper, “Why, Lixie? You look so cute like this. Why would I ever want to stop?” You smile when you hear the way he whimpers and his cock pulses harder inside of you, “Don't you want to cum inside me?” His hold on you grows tighter, “I want you to. I want you to cum inside me until it's spilling out of me,” you emphasise your point by intentionally clenching around him, “For days.” 

That's all it takes for him to break. His cock throbbing as he shoots his cum into the deepest part of you. A mix of his whimpers and strangled moans of your name tickle your ears as his cum fills your eagerly awaiting pussy. Your tail swishes in glee and your ears twitch in happiness. Your own orgasm creeping up on you when you feel the last of his cum spill into you. Truly, the late nights alone in your bed could never compare to this. To him. Your first orgasm could never hold a candle to this. Your entire body is riddled with quivers and shakes, your wetness gushing onto Felix's softening cock. Your thighs are sticky with cum and you're drenched in sweat but, you've never been more at peace. 

For some time, your shared laboured breathing is the only sound in your room. Fondness bubbles up inside of you when you glance at his flushed, sweaty face. His golden hair sticking to his forehead while he takes some time to come back to himself. Your fingers move before you can even think about it. The fog retreating slightly while you play with his hair and enjoy the simple pleasure of watching him while your combined releases trickle out of you. Much to your displeasure.  

You smile at him when he finally blinks his eyes open to meet yours. Your fingers ghosting over his mate mark as something primal and affectionate simmers in the pit of your stomach. He really is yours now. Your tail wraps around his leg without you even noticing. 

The smile he gives you is small but, it's still one of his smiles and the way your heart hammers in your chest lets you know he really was meant to be your mate. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[vashs-turtleneck]

Hi! How are you? I hope you are doing well <3 I binge-read all of you trigun fics and i loved them, so i wanted to request something too!

How about a Vash x reader where the reader sleeps on him? Vash is listening to them ramble about something and then boom, they fall asleep on him bc hes warm. <3

Omg my first request. I'm so honoured, and I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed my other fics!! I'm sorry this took so long to complete. It was a busy couple weeks for me, but I hope you like it!

Also this ended up being way longer than I thought it would.

Quiet Nights.

Rating: T Summary: After a less than stellar day, Vash can't seem to get out of his own head. Luckily, he has you. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x Reader Content: pining, angst, fluff. Word Count: 2.7k

It's quiet.

Galaxies paint the skies above him, his thoughts accompanied only by the sound of the wind blowing, the crackling of the fire, and the subtle discomfort of the rock he's leaning on pressing into his spine.

Quiet, but not peaceful.

Not for Vash.

Never for the humanoid typhoon.

His head is in turmoil, recollecting all his sins and keeping him from sleep. All the venom spat his way as the last town cursed the walking disaster, forcing you both out without so much as a chance to breathe, with bullets hitting the ground at your heels as you ran.

He deserved it. Every last word. Every last bullet shell. He knows he did, but you didn't.

He glances down at you, snuggled up so comfortably in your sleeping bag. Now you look awfully peaceful, your face barely peeking out from under the covers, letting him see the fine cut you got on your cheek as a result of today's troubles.

If he had been faster.

If he had been more vigilant.

If you weren't with him.

You'd be safer without him.

He's overthinking again.

Or is he?

Damn it, what's right anymore?

Keeping you around, is it wrong? This selfishness he lets himself indulge in with your presence, it must be wrong. But how can it be when it feels so right, when having you by his side makes his chest swell with a warmth that makes him feel like he's found a home?

Absent-mindedly, his warm hand reaches for you. He can see you. He can see the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. You're right there, but he has to remind himself that you're real. 

You're okay, he has to tell himself. You're alive.

But just as his thumb is about to carefully swipe over the scrape on your cheek, your pretty eyes flutter open. You look right at him, and Vash freezes.

“Eep!” The typhoon squeaks out in surprise and pulls his hand away. “S-Sorry! I wasn't doing anything weird, I promise!”

“That makes it sound like you were absolutely doing something weird," you tease back oh so sweetly.

“I promise I wasn't.” He says with a pout, looking away from you.

“Can't sleep, Vash?”

He shakes his head.

“Just thinking.”

“Well, that's no good. You always let that pretty head fill with such stupid thoughts.”

‘Pretty.’

Well you sure know how to get him to blush. He tries to shake off this feeling you give him and swallow down the butterflies fluttering in his stomach, taking a few calming breaths before he speaks again.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

“It's alright. I wasn't asleep.”

Vash turns back to you, his head tilting questioningly. 

“Hmm? Why not?” He asks, and he hopes that your head isn't filling with the same thoughts as his.

“I try to stay up if I know you're awake.”

And you must see the confusion on his face, because you answer his question without him needing to ask. 

“Gotta keep my eyes peeled if I wanna make sure you're not running off again.” You chuckle, yet your words hit him like sandsteamer.

Oh.

He can't really argue with you there. Hell, even just now, he was considering it. Part of him wants to reassure you that he won't leave, but he also doesn't want to lie to you. If it came down to choosing between keeping you safe and never seeing you again, he'd be gone in a heartbeat, no matter how much it would rip him to shreds inside.

He cherishes your presence.

When you came into his life, things became just a little bit more lively. Sure, his routine stayed mostly the same; it's not like there's all that many options for how to live his life when he's always on the run, but now he has someone else to share it with. You eat with him, walk with him, and when the double dollars are short and you have to settle for spending the night out under the open sky, you're right there, laying next to him in your own little sleeping bag. He can have a conversation with you as the two of you travel between towns. He can tell you about the stars in the night sky on nights like these, and help point out the constellations draped over your heads.

He's not alone anymore.

He cherishes you, no matter how selfish that may be.

He'd much rather not have to leave you, if he's being completely honest.

“Well,” Vash cuts the somewhat uncomfortable silence between the two of you. “If neither of us are gonna sleep, wanna look at the stars with me, mayfly?”

He sees how your eyes sparkle, and you sit yourself up in your sleeping bag, shuffling yourself closer to him. He leans against you and points up towards the stars, and your gaze follows his index finger. 

“Right there. Those ones over there make the shape of a four-pronged fork.”

The side of his face is dangerously close to yours, but you seem too immersed in the sky to notice. Thank goodness for that, or else you might have noticed his cheeks heating up.

“You see it?”

You must be able to see it. You're looking right a-

“I don't see it.”

“H-huh?”

“I have no clue what you're pointing at.”

“Whu- What do you mean?! You're looking right at it!” Vash says, his tone playfully exasperated, and it has you giggling so softly that he has to swallow those butterflies back down.

It takes him a moment to realize he's smiling too, watching you fondly as you try to compose yourself. Surely he's not that funny?

As he sees you refocusing on the stars, a harsh gust of wind passes through, striking the flames of the fire and forcing you to retreat back into your sleeping bag with a subtle shiver that Vash notices all too quickly.

“You cold, mayfly?” Though he doesn't have to ask. He can see it by the way your shoulders tremble.

“Maybe just a bit.”

“You could come closer, if you want. I have plenty of body heat to spare.” He tries to say nonchalantly, tapping at the space in front of him.

‘Closer.’

Closer would be nice.

And to his surprise (and secretly to his delight), you come much closer. You scuttle out of your sleeping bag and carefully situate yourself in front of him, sitting on the ground between his legs and leaning your back against his chest like he's some chair. You tuck the top of your head beneath his chin, an all too close position, but he's definitely not complaining. He only hopes you don't feel his heart hammering in his chest right now, but at least like this you can't see how his cheeks hue a deep scarlet.

You're so close.

Deep breaths.

“Better?”

“Mhm. Much better.” You hum, tucking yourself against him, his body and jacket sheltering you from the wind. “Now where is it again?”

“There,” He says as he points up towards the constellation again. "Do you see it now? If you look up from the tip of my finger, you can see how those stars make the shape of a fork."

"It still just looks like a bunch of pretty splotches to me."

"Mayfly!"

You giggle far too sweetly at his reaction, so purely that it almost eases the unrest in his heart. So carefree, so lighthearted.

Do you not care that you got hurt? Are you so oblivious to the danger he puts you through?

Do you not hate him for it?

Long lanky legs stretch out to your sides, your back pressed to his broad chest. It's easy to forget just how big he is when he hides his frame beneath this jacket of his, how well he hides just how strong he is. This jacket hides the body of something inhuman, a natural disaster, as people call him. Right now though, this jacket is keeping you covered and warm. 

His marred body is keeping you warm.

“I'm sorry, mayfly.”

“Hmm?” You hum, tilting your head back slightly to look at him and giving him a close view of your pretty eyes. 

“Your cheek. I'm sorry. It's my fault you got hurt.”

He hesitantly reaches for your face again, and when he sees you're not pulling away, his calloused thumb gently brushes along the scuff on your soft cheek, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than friendly.

Warm.

“It's not your fault, Vash. It was all just some stupid misunderstanding and we got caught in the middle of it.”

“Still,” He whispers, and even he can hear the sadness in his own voice despite his attempt to stifle it. “You'd be safer without me.”

You sigh. That same casual sigh you do when he's eaten so many doughnuts that he's given himself a tummy ache, like you're fed up with his silly everyday antics.

“It's like I said– Pretty head, stupid thoughts.” You tell him, turning forward once more and resting your head under his chin again.

“Right here,” You say, playfully tapping the knee he has resting against your side. “This is the safest place I can be, Vash.”

Safe.

Do you really feel that way?

“You're comfy, you know.” You say soundly, and it nearly has Vash choking on his own spit.

“M-Me?!” He blurts.

“I don't see anyone else here,” You snicker. “Very warm too. You weren't kidding about having body heat to spare.”

“I- well I- Uh…” He stumbles over his own words. He doesn't know what to say to something so kind right now, and strangely… intimate. Those butterflies aren’t going down easily. 

“Those ones look like you.” You chime, your hand pointing up at the sky.

“Huh? The stars?”

“Yeah, right there. Do you see? That's your spikey hair, and right under is your little mole.”

“How do you see that but not a fork?”

“Don't know, but if I can't see the regular constellations, I might as well make my own.”

Making up your own constellations. How cute.

He's not stupid. He knows you're doing this on purpose, trying to get his mind off whatever is bothering him, but that's just like you. In his mind, you shine brighter than the stars. His guiding light, something to bring him back down to No Man's Land when he gets lost in the maze inside his head.

“That one looks like Kuroneko.” You gush, pointing elsewhere.

“Who?” He says, trying to follow the direction of your finger. Maybe seeing pictures in the stars is harder than he gave you credit for.

“Don't worry about it.” You chuckle, letting your hand fall back down.

“Well that one looks like a doughnut with sprinkles.”

“You would see that.”

“And that one looks like a slice of cake.”

“Is your sweet tooth acting up?”

“...Maybe.”

“We'll get some sweets in the next town then.”

“Mmh. That'd be nice.”

Shared laughter fills the air surrounding the two of you, followed by silence.

Comfortable silence.

His mind is quieter now, no longer buzzing with unanswerable questions, regrets, and ‘what ifs’.

Peaceful.

Because of you.

After a few minutes of silently looking up at the galaxies hanging up high, he breaks the calm air between the two of you.

“Thank you, mayfly.” He whispers, not missing the way his voice trembles ever so slightly.

“I get stuck in my own head sometimes. I-I guess a lot of the time, really. It's… nice to have someone around to help me out of it.”

He clears his throat, trying to get rid of that shakiness in his voice.

“W-Well– y’know– not just someone. You're not just someone. You're one of a kind. Special.”

His heart is hammering in his chest, he can feel it drumming behind his ears. He doesn't want to promise you anything. He doesn't make promises, but if he can just try to express to you how badly he needs you around, then maybe…

“You're, um– you're very precious to me, mayfly. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. Not without you, anyway.”

Oh no. You're not saying anything. Was that too much?

“Ha ha… S-Sorry, didn't mean to bring down the mood.”

God, his heart is pounding. If you didn't already hear it before, there's no way you can't hear it now. 

Another few moments of silence pass, and he can't take it anymore. Vash gulps and looks down at you, worried to see the expression on your face, scared he took this too far, but when he does gaze down, you're wearing the most peaceful expression he's ever seen.

You're asleep, nuzzled up against him. Not only that, but you're asleep first, despite what you said earlier. Actually asleep too, he judges based on how deeply you're breathing.

Guess he can't run off if you're keeping him in place.

‘You're comfy.’

Is he really? These hands stained with blood, this body tattered in scars, this unchanged face that he's worn for over a century, this name that has the power to strike fear in the hearts of all. Yet here you are, leaning into him, asleep, vulnerable, and completely trusting of him.

You must be crazy. Don't you know he's the humanoid typhoon?

He's holding you close. A tad too close for what he would consider friendly, but despite the heat he feels rising to his cheeks, he doesn't want to pull away.

His limbs wrap tightly around you, pressing you into his chest, his head leaning slightly against your shoulder until your hair tickles his nose, like he wants to melt into you. Shyly, he takes in the scent of you. That smell that is so inherently you. Just the feeling of you so close to him, grounding him, quieting the thoughts in his head.

‘You're here. You're okay. You're alive.’ He tells himself.

Warm. 

Soft. 

Safe.

Home.

Truth be told, he could never bring himself to leave. He'd have to be pried away from  you, and even then, his hands would cling to you until his nails were cracked and bloody. If he was being honest with himself, you've got him by the heart.

Maybe he'll let himself be selfish. 

‘Maybe just for tonight.’ He promises himself, though even he knows that's a lie.

✧ ✧ ✧

Morning comes all too quickly, the suns managing to shine down directly onto you. You groan, bringing a hand to your face to rub the sleep from your eyes. You shift your body to stretch, yet you feel yourself held in place, and look down at your waist to see what it is.

A pair of arms wrapped around your middle, one cooler than the other, but both just as comforting and inviting.

This isn't your sleeping bag. It's far too comfortable, and definitely warmer than that dusty old thing.

“Mayfly.” 

The sweet word tickles the shell of your ear, whispered out so softly that it sends a spark of electricity coursing through you.

You lean your head back to look at the source of that sweet sound, letting yourself fall deeper into that comfortable, inviting embrace that you don't ever want to leave, your eyes falling to what, or rather who, is behind you.

Golden hair rivaling the rays of sun shining down on you, eyes like the clear blue sky above, and an alluring warmth that feels like home.

He smiles down at you when your eyes meet, a genuine smile that shows off those cute dimples. You've never seen them from so close.

“Good morni-”

“WHAAAGH!” You cut him off with scream, not expecting to wake up snuggled up so close on your outlaw companion’s chest.

In your surprise, you completely knock your head into his pretty face. He swiftly brings his hand up, groaning, feeling the bit of blood starting to trickle from his nose.

Yeah, okay. He should have known you'd be surprised to see him so close. Maybe he had that coming.

“Oh god! I'm so sorry! I just- I wasn't- I was a bit startled, is all. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm so sorry, Vash.”

“Ehe… I'm fine. Don't worry about it.”

Maybe that's what he gets for letting himself be so selfish.

Though if that's the price he has to pay, he'll gladly let you break his nose every day if it means he gets to hold you that close.

divider.

[scary-lasagna]

hi if you still do yandere can I have some yandere EJ? your version of him is my favorite !!

Thank you!! :] I like writing for him, he's fun to play around with, just as he does to his victims darlings. It's a little long but you know I love setting the mood.

tw: kidnapping, semi-nekedness, dead bodies, family death, noncon kissing

Yandere!Eyeless Jack

Quivering. Shaking. Only shreds of your clothing remained in tact to cover whatever was left of your modesty.

You sat in a cold, dead corner. There was no light whatsoever. Even if you could move your hand, you'd no doubt wouldn't be able to see it right in front of your face.

It smelled pungently of rancid rotting meat, urine, and what you believed to be the underlying metallic smell of blood.

It was hours ago that Jack climbed in through the basement window, and started dumping dull, heavy, heaps of garbage bags across the floor of this abandoned basement.

You didn't want to think about what was inside them.

Jack didn't eat food, he ate humans. You could only assume this was his calorie income for the next week. But, six bodies? You only hoped he wasn't hosting a party for any other freaky demon friends he might have.

You hoped you weren't next.

Jack had already ripped your clothes to shreds in an effort to get you to shut up about the damp basement. He was the one to ask if you needed anything in the first place. Kindly. Foolishly, you thought he had somewhat of a change of heart.

"Ohhh, I see. The dampness is making you so miserable down here, isn't it? If you had no clothes, you wouldn't be so damp, now would you?"

It taught you quickly not to ask for things.

If his talons could easily shred through the fabric of your denim, there would only be a grim end if he decided your life was making you miserable.

And there it was, the jiggle of the basement window latch. The horrors beyond your imaginative mind terrified you.

This man, no- this creature, this monster, plucked you from your safe haven and dragged you kicking and screaming into an abandoned house in the city.

You didn't know where he received the supplies, or if they were already there and he decided on a whim to tie you to a pipe with a heavy rope.

The rope thickened with both blood and that black tar that leaks down Jack's mask. There was no escape and the only time you tried biting off your restraints, the black tar almost choked you to death, worming its way down your tongue and into your throat.

"Good evening, my precious gem." The bastard cooed, and slithered down the wall. The floor squelched as he paced across it toward you. It was wet over there. Luckily, whatever it was hasn't reached you yet.

You knew it was blood, but deep down you just hoped it was a leaky pipe.

"How are you doing today? Less damp, I hope."

He must be able to see in the start, noting the uneven steps mostly stepping over the garbage bags of dead bodies.

You couldn't manage anything but a fearful sob, choking out past your puffy and cracked lips. Jack's shoes squeaked as he squatted, a small puff of breath ghosting on your face.

"I asked you a question." Jack quickly grasped your jaw, squeezing it with such force you were afraid the bone may snap. You cried out in pain, desperately pulling away from his claws.

"Better, but not exactly an answer. I'm in a good mood today, so I'll let it pass." He coos. His grip softened, but by no means did he let go.

"From now on, I expect a loving kiss when I get home. Let's start now, hm?~" Despite the darkness, you could hear the end of his sentence upturning into a snarky smile. He quickly pinned you down with his weight, sitting on your lap.

That's when you started thrashing.

You weren't even sure if you could stomach the kiss alone. His mouth smelled of rotting meat and blood, but the teeth, those were a problem. One swift bite and you're left choking on your own blood pooling in your windpipe, whenever he decides to bite the bottom of your jaw off.

You kicked, you screamed, you punched, and you even attempted to rip his hair out. It was all futile; This creature was inhuman. Your stupidly weak attempts were no match to this demonic being.

Your head suddenly met the pipe ungracefully, and Jack's lips smooshed against yours in the middle of a curdling scream.

Multiple meaty, fleshy tongues jousted forward between your teeth, assaulting your own tongue, gums, cheeks, and eventually sliding down your throat to trigger your gag reflex.

You punched his collar bone and attempted to bring your knee up hard enough to push him off but to no avail. If anything, you were probably tickling him.

Your chest convulsed as you attempted to breathe, until you realized he was blocking your entire airway with his tongues. You desperately hit him with the last of your remaining strength, and pushed him. Even going as far as shoving your thumb into on of his eye sockets.

It only made him hungrier for you, pressing his body against you and tilting your head upward for a better angle to reach your throat with.

That's when the power to the building finally flickered on. You stopped fighting. A spotted haze worked it's way into your vision, locking eyes with the naked corpse hanging from the ceiling above you.

Dead, yet familiar eyes, of the person that you loved most in this world. Gone.

You gave up. There was no escape. Never will be. The power went out again, or maybe it was the darkness of death finally engulfing you.

You hoped you were dead.

[argisthebulwark]

Time Moves Slow - Cicero

sfw, gn reader, depiction of delusions/recurring nightmares Summary: After returning from Sovngarde the Dragonborn finds that a handful of hours for them has been years for those in Tamriel and reunites with their loved one.  Others Linked: Vilkas, Brynjolf, Farkas, Teldryn, Miraak

Trudging through the endless sea of snow, you thought only of what awaited you at home. Northern winds whipped loose hair around your face and fat flakes of snow left speckles on your stained armor. You reminded yourself that the hardest part was over - Alduin and Sovngarde would be forgotten once you got into a steaming bath. All you had to do was make it back to the Sanctuary. 

Luckily you were able to avoid trekking through Dawnstar. The Dragonborn showing up in shredded Dark Brotherhood armor would raise more questions than you could answer. The sea crashed at your side when you stomped along the frigid beach, sending a fresh blast of cold air through the rips in your armor. Ducking out of the storm you collapsed into the silence of home.

Sparse echoes revealed very few were in the Sanctuary - new recruits were on trial contracts and your fellow assassins were hard at work. Banners lining the Sanctuary's blank stone walls seemed worn, some patched in places you'd never noticed. You'd have to ask one of the others. Nazir would likely tease you for paying so little attention to your surroundings.

Hauling your broken body down the hallway the hairs on the back of your neck rose - something felt off. The voices floating through the stone halls were unfamiliar. The candles flickering on a nearby table smelled floral despite Cicero's preference for unscented. Strange cloaks were piled near the staircase.

Panic chilled your blood. Memories of the Penitus Oculatus came flooding back. Without thinking your blade was in your hand, heart racing as you stalked deeper into your home. Ears strained for any sign of battle you slid toward the central hub of the Sanctuary.

No one in the kitchens. No sign of danger in the main hall. A few calm murmurs behind closed doors were all you found when you slunk down the final corridor, the one home to each assassin's private chambers. That deep sense of dread was unshakable, gut sinking when you noted the unfamiliar names scrawled over previously empty rooms.

Thank the gods your chambers appeared untouched. Without alerting the rest of the Brotherhood you tiptoed into your bedroom, releasing a shaky breath after clicking the lock in place. Perhaps you'd simply forgotten the names of a few recruits. Nazir must've approved them in your absence. Nothing was wrong. You just needed a bath and a long nap.

"Listener?"

Mere steps from the bath you halted. Cicero's voice stopped you dead in your tracks. You hardly heard his movements when he sat up from your bed - you should've known. His own chambers hadn't been touched since the first night together, of course he'd wait in your bed. Separation wasn't his strong suit.

"Hello my love." Despite your attempt to quell the nervousness your voice sounded shrill. You didn't want to turn to him, didn't want him spotting the anxiety in your expression. It would only worry him further.

“Silly Listener, you’re teasing Cicero again.” His laugh was high pitched and dreamy, sending shivers down your spine. What had he meant by that? Again? “Stop being mean to your loyal Keeper.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You always do this!” Any hint of his laughter was gone. Your blood chilled when the bed creaked, your only sign that he'd gotten to his feet. “You show up just to taunt and silly Cicero falls for it every time. Go on, say it and disappear! Leave poor Cicero alone!”

“Say what, Cicero?” Something was clearly off. Your heart ached for your poor, lonely Keeper. Turning toward the bed you tried to find him in the oppressive darkness, barely able to make out your beloved's frame through all the shadows.

It was all wrong. Cicero's wavy hair was cropped short, his familiar smile reduced to a mean smirk. The gash on his face you'd dabbed clean that morning was nothing but a nasty scar. His eyes pinned you in place when he stepped into the faint halo of candlelight. Your gut had been right - something had gone terribly wrong while you were in Sovngarde.

“What is a Keeper without a Listener?” His nose wrinkled, tone a taunting mockery of yours. It hurt to see his brows furrow, so clearly confused. "What is Cicero without his Listener?"

“What, my Cicero?” His shoulders sagged, all the rage disappearing as he sunk to your bed. Cicero’s watery eyes stared at your boots and you dared another step closer. The urge to touch him was overwhelming, to prove that you were really with him.

“Nothing.” His broken little whisper wrecked you. Swooping down before Cicero you heard him muttering, tears streaking down his cheeks. “The fool is nothing. Nothing.” 

"You are my whole heart." Your voice wobbled with the immense weight of emotions threatening to reduce you to tears. You couldn't comprehend what he'd been through - visited by horrible visions in your absence. "How long has it been since we last met, my Keeper?"

"Years." His voice was flat, eyes tracking each of your movements. You couldn't push him. "Cicero let the real Listener go years and years ago."

"And what of the fake Listeners?"

"The real Listener would never talk to loyal Cicero like that."

"That's right." Stubborn arms wrapped around his middle, protecting himself from you. Cicero sniffled, staring down at the hands you kept in your lap. "Who do you think I am, my dear Cicero?"

Finally, he met your gaze. The unfathomable pain you found in his eyes knocked the breath from your lungs. Your absence had clearly wrecked him.

"My Listener?" The tiniest hint of hope resided in his words. You wanted to hug him, to tackle him onto your bed but you couldn't spook him. Tucking the messy hair away from your face you leaned closer, banishing any fear from your mind. No matter what had changed he was always your Keeper, your Cicero.

Tentative fingers brushed over your cheek. Cicero's hands shook when they cupped your face, wide eyes reflecting the lone candle. You took in every bit of him you could - the scars, the hair, he'd changed. You'd been gone years.

"My Listener." It was no longer a question. Needy hands dragged you closer, laughs blooming against your skin where Cicero smothered you in kisses. He murmured your title over and over as he came to terms with the fact that it was truly you, not some nightmare.

Nimble fingers made quick work ridding you of the ruined armor before his limbs enveloped you. Cicero's warmth and the soft mattress were wonderful under your aching bones. Humming happily Cicero draped a blanket over you, gentle touches roaming over your body as he confirmed your presence.

"I'm sorry for leaving, my love." You spoke into his skin, pressed firmly against him. "I'll never leave you again."

"My funny Listener." Cicero sighed, finally content. His hands stroked through your tangled hair and you heard a displeased grumble. "You made a lot of work for your Keeper. Laundry, mending, bathing."

"I'm sorry, my beloved." You mumbled, on the verge of sleep. You wanted to apologize for that and so much more.

"Loyal Cicero forgives you, Listener."

[apocalypseornaw]

Bad Idea

Bobby told you to stay away from Sam. You knew he wasn't the same man you'd known after Dean's death, you knew he was involved with Ruby but despite all of that you had to make one final plea rather to say goodbye or remind him of who he was

Warnings: cursing,mention of blood drinking?, NSFW stuff happening

It'd taken you two days to track Sam down between hunts. You weren't sure what you would say when you got to him or even if he'd speak to you, chances were Ruby was following him around like an annoying evil bitch of a puppy that you'd love nothing more than to stab with her own knife.

You pulled up to the outside of a motel that couldn't be described as anything but shitty and you had squatted in a few abandoned houses with the boys and Bobby in the past on hunts. You weren't sure what to expect but you parked your mustang next to the impala which would always be easy to spot. You'd called ahead and had luckily guessed what alias Sam had used.

You locked your car then walked to the door of room two fifty five. You owed it to Dean and to Sam to at least try to get him to come to Bobby's with you. You knocked after checking that you had holy water in your jacket pocket and the feel of your gun at your back was a familiar weight.

----------

A moment later the door opened to reveal a haggard looking Sam. Dark circles under his eyes along with a hollow look in them. It hurt you to see him like this. "Y/N what are you doing here? How did you find me?" You pushed past him into the room, clocking every corner to ensure it was just him before you said "I may not be Dean but I do know you pretty well"

He raised both eyebrows slightly then a smirk almost appeared on his face but he quickly buried it "Well you found me. What do you want? I mean I'm not coming back to Bobby's" you nodded turning to face him "I figured that. Look I just wanna talk. Is it just gonna be you? I mean can I take my jacket off or am I gonna have to fight that black eyed skank before the night's out, cause honestly I haven't been having the best last few weeks either so I'm down to play either way"

He laughed at that, the sound was a hollow echo of his usual laugh. "She's not coming here" you nodded. You pulled your jacket off and draped it across his duffle bag. "Gonna lay your gun down or am I a threat?" You shrugged "I don't want to consider you a threat" you laid the gun down on top of your jacket then turned to face him. He wasn't high, he looked like maybe he'd hit withdraws, rather lack of blood from Ruby not being around or his own choice you weren't sure.

----------

"Why are you doing this Sam? I get it, losing Dean hurt. Hell it hurt me and Bobby too" he cut you off by shaking his head "Y/N no offense but you didn't watch your only family get ripped to shreds by a hellhound because he made a deal to save your life"

His words hurt on some level of course but you knew the Winchesters well enough to know their defense mechanisms. "He might have been your only blood left but he's not your only family Sam. I'm here, Bobby would be there for you. We love you"

He took a step towards you and it took everything in you to keep your feet planted. He wouldn't normally be a threat to you but this Sam? The air around him felt off, wrong. He wasn't quite the man you'd known for years but you knew that man was still in there. "Then why did you just drop into a fighting stance?" He asked glancing down towards your body. You hadn't realized you moved until he pointed it out, you'd done it on instinct alone.

"I haven't seen you in weeks Sam. I want to trust that I'm safe with you but some of the choices you're making doesn't help" He nodded stepping even closer to you and this time you allowed yourself the movement of stepping back, putting breathing room between you and him put also putting your back to a wall.

----------

You glanced towards your jacket and the gun that laid atop it. You had a knife stuck into your boot but could you really use it on Sam?

He chuckled darkly placing a hand on either side of your head meaning he effectively had you trapped between his body and the wall "You forgetting I know you too? You just clocked your gun and the knife that's in your left boot" the last words he spoke you could feel his warm breath fanning over your neck "Could you kill me? Be honest"

You turned to meet his eyes. Fuck he was close and despite everything you could feel your stomach jerk when his eyes trailed over your body. Why the hell had you come here alone? You swallowed hard "To save my life? Yeah I could kill you" he smiled "I've always loved that damn fire about you"

His head lowered to your neck, causing a gasp to escape you when his tongue flicked out over your pulse point. "I've always thought about how it would be" "What?" You asked, trying to control your breathing. This wasn't how you expected the night to go.

---------

He leaned back to be eye to eye with you "Why did you really come here? When I know for a fact Bobby would've told you not to, that I'm too unpredictable and unreliable now" "I couldn't say goodbye to you without it being face to face" you replied and he smiled again "So you're here to say goodbye?"

You nodded, your gaze flicking down to his lips then back up to his eyes. "Yeah, I am" "I don't think that's all you want" you couldn't think straight. So much had happened in such a short time. You'd fucking missed him so much and damn you'd wanted him for years.

"Fuck it" you muttered before pulling him down to you. The moment your lips touched his he groaned into the kiss. You tangled your fingers into his hair tugging roughly as he deepened the kiss, rolling his tongue against yours. His large hands gripped your hips tightly causing you to gasp against his lips.

He broke away from you long enough to rest his forehead against yours "You want this?" You nodded, not trusting your voice but he shook his head "Verbal confirmation Y/N" "I want this" you spoke and he grinned "Good"

His hands went to the hem of your shirt and you moved to help him pull it over your head. He chucked the thin material behind him then leaned down to take one of your clothed breasts into his mouth. "Fuck Sam" you groaned, feeling your knees weaken and the wetness between your legs grow. He smiled against your chest "I love that"

---------

Before you knew it he had your bra off along with his shirt and was moving to pull your jeans off your legs. "I'll take my time later but right now I want to feel that pretty little pussy stretched around me"

He kicked his jeans off then picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and lining himself up with your opening "You're sure?" He asked one final time "Just fuck me Sam" you begged and that was all it took. He buried himself inside of you with one thrust.

Your head fell back in a silent scream. Fuck he was big. He moved to support your back against the wall, catching your lips in a hungry kiss while he let you adjust to him. You chased his lips even as he pulled back to look at your face "I'm good. Just move please"

----------

He sat a grueling pace, each thrust of his hips making you see stars despite the chances of your back being bruised the following day from it digging into the wall behind you.

Your fingers dug into his forearms, looking for something to ground yourself amongst the pleasure coursing through your body. "Can you take more baby?" He asked and you nodded "I can take it" he shifted his hips just slightly but it was enough to push you over the edge. Your vision went hazy around the edges when your orgasm washed over you, your fingernails biting into his skin.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppily and knew he was close. You moved your hand just enough to push his sweat soaked hair out his face "Come for me Sam. Fill me up, let me feel it" at your words his thrusts got harder and faster, his eyes screwed shut as he chased that release. His hands were gripping you hard enough to leave bruises but you didn't care. When he buried himself deep inside of you with one final thrust the feeling of his release pushed you over the edge causing you to tighten around him as another orgasm washed through you.

He laughed breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours "Was that our goodbye or can I have a little more time with you?" You turned your head to catch his lips in a lingering kiss "You can have a little more time"

---------

He turned with you in his arms to walk over to the bed. He laid you down, gently pulling out "I was hoping I'd get a little longer with you if this is goodbye" you reached for his hand and pulled him onto the bed with you "No more talking"

The only proof Sam had of the night between you and him ever happening was a letter he found a week later in his jacket pocket that read "Find me if you figure out where you truly belong"

He shoved it back into his pocket before following Ruby out the door of the place he was currently squatting at. He had to do things his way and you deserved better than he could give.

Part 2

[captainjacklyn]

Hey, yo, you probably saw me on one of your posts. I was wondering if you could do the arcana twilight characters reacting to reader training Precious to destroy sisuris's balls l, I'm so sorry for this post, but I had to. You could skip if you want to. Also, sorry for misspelling sisuris name.

HAHAHAHAGHDJWEH- no worries my friend, there is absolutely no harm done on your part, I'm glad you enjoy that crack shit post and I hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it.

character(s) : spica, alpheratz, arcturus, pollux, vega

warning(s) : someone's balls being obliterated, a feral ferret and a vengeful summoner that just wants to see blood.

Spica

Speechless and just straight up lost, man is just looking at us for a good minute before continuing to walk down the aisle like nothing happened.

for reference his face looked like this :

He says nothing, he's just confused and tells himself that he needs coffee thinking he's hallucinating due to all the work he has to do.

don't even bother explaining, Spica will pass out and Precious is going to take that opportunity to destroy.

"Wrong target Precious I'm not letting you hurt rapunzel."

"AHDJEREJHR !"

Alpheratz

Hype man right here, he's literally helping you coach that killing machine to end Sirius.

Precious actually stops trying to rip his wig off and is now accepting him as a friend, sort of.

I love this trio ! A batshit crazy animal, their batshit insane owner and the owner's boyfriend who hates the same person they hate.

Once precious is released into the city to found that sexy gun man, it's over for him.

It crawls it's way through the streets, hissing at anything in it's way until it finds the legs of the enemy..and CRUNCH GOES THE BALLS OF THE ASSHOLE-

*screams in agony*

Arcturus

[Name] I don't think you have to- "HAJSKFBEFUEKR-"

Precious held on to his leg for a week, it didn't wanna let go for even a minute. Had to constantly keep this ginger man in a hospital because the moment he got out he would bleed extensively.

Once it got off of him, you just continued to train your unhinged creature.

Precious is really going balls out for the game I'll tell ya that, we're not just speaking about the nutcracker here we're talking about the sacrifice of future generations as well.

This poor dude is just standing on the sidelines like : you don't have to do this but I still support you because that's really all I can do...

Pollux

Oh he means business.

We got another coach right here- bro is going to ANNIHILATE sirius and whatever is left.

Although he keeps wincing whenever it actually happens, I mean they're both guys he knows just how painful it can get.

It's really terrifying to be honest just witnessing something that violent.

I mean who would expect this :

to act like THIS :

That's pollux trying to hold it, Precious is completely calm and rational with it's beloved owner.

Vega

._.

wut ?

like Spica, he will stand there, but not like Spica, he will remain standing there for a very long time.

Even Precious stops bitting the plastic toy that now looks like it's been shredded, even you stop encouraging your cute psychopath of a beast.

why are you giving it more attention ? HIIIIIISSSSSSSS-

He doesn't give a shit, we all know just how much of a simp he gets when it comes to you.

I love how I skipped the part where Precious tried to lunge at him and remove his eyeballs from his eye sockets.

You luckily managed to avoid that, but now you got an animal and a touch-starved white boy clinging onto you for dear life.

Vega I need to proceed with my ferret's training so could you please ? no. ...You're lucky you're just as adorable as my electric saw. BFUKETGEHTK$#$ PRECIOUS STOP SWEARING-

Have a good day I hope you liked it.

[miscellaneoussmp]

Did Bad and Bagi interactions inspire this? Yes. Do I expect this to be anywhere close to Canon? Nope. Anyway, here's the story of The Grim Reaper meeting a set of twins (cw/tw: blood/violence/death mentions, general Cellbit fuckery):

In war, a lot of horrible things happen. That's just how it is. People die, and it's a tragedy, as it always is. Bad always finds himself on the battlefields. His duty to the world beyond demands it of him. Reaping the souls of those who have unfortunately passed on during battle is as simple as it's always been. It's just more time-consuming than usual. Bad can't find the energy to mourn every single soul he takes. He mourns for souls he's yet to take, instead.

Bad likes to believe he's seen everything in this world. He's just as old as it, if not even older. This world shouldn't hold many surprises. As always, he's proven wrong. In the woods not incredibly far from a main battlefield, Bad finds two people. They look young, really young. One sits next a body that is ripped to shreds, and the other sits further from the body. The one closer to the body wipes blood from his mouth as he looks up at Bad. His brown hair was held out of his face with a set of goggles. The one farther is chewing on what looks to be stale bread. She looks between the other and Bad, through her ash blonde hair. They look like siblings, twins maybe. These two are the types of souls that Bad mourns. He can feel they're destined for greatness, yet they're stuck here.

The young duo looks absolutely terrified as Bad approaches them, two sets of wide bright blue eyes stare at him. The one next to the body stands, holding his knife in a shakey white knuckle grip. The one farther grabs a sword in an equally shakey grip. Bad points to the body, and he tries his best to explain that he's just here for the soul. The young brunette nods before turning to his companion, his sister Bad assumes, and translates. Bad recognizes the language as Portuguese, but he doesn't have any hope in understanding what was actually said. Both lower their weapons, the closer sits back down, and both look in amazement as Bad tears the soul from the body. Simple as that. He jokes about soul, luckily, being left in tact. Neither one of the younger two laugh.

Bad stays after his job is complete. He's curious about siblings. He's still guessing at that fact. He wants to know more about the young soldiers. He wants to know more about the young souls he's mourning for. Bad asks about their names. The demon wants to know what names he needs to plead cases for in front of Death, herself. The brunette looks to his sister, a guess still, before turning back to Bad shaking his head. Neither has a name. Bad didn't have one for a while either, so he doesn't push. Next, he asks about their ages. How young are they truly? They can't be much older than eighteen. Bad hates the answer he receives. Quinze, the blonde, speaks finally, her voice shakes. Fifteen, the brunette translates in unsure tone. Was Bad ever that young? He can't remember. Finally, he asks if they're actually siblings. There wasn't any hesitation, both nod.

Bad is taken a back when they question him in return. He really shouldn't have been. They ask–the brother mostly asks, but the sister speaks, as well, in their native tongue–about his name. He shares with them his name and a few nicknames he's gotten over the years. There's a hint of recognition in their expressions with a few of his names. After a few more questions, some of which Bad doesn't answer, he offers the siblings non-stale bread. The brunette doesn't take it, instead licking his lips that are still covered in blood. Bad gets it. He really does. The blonde cautiously takes it with her hands still shaking as she does so. She examines the bread for any tampering. Bad gets that, too. He really does.

The Grim Reaper takes his leave after the siblings fall asleep, it was hours of a futile struggle to stay awake. He knows they sleep light and fearful. Bad mourns for their souls before he ever needs to reap them. The demon curses whoever or whatever has forced these nameless teens to fight. He mourns for the day he'll take their souls. At least they'll know peace then.

After nearly eleven years, Bad meets one of the young souls he mourned for, once again. He took the name Cellbit, and Bad thinks it's a fitting one. Cellbit is a investigator now, and his face holds a relaxed smile. He thanks Bad for being kind to him all those years ago. He doesn't mention his sister.

After nearly eleven years, Bad meets the other young soul he mourned for, once again. She took the name Bagi, and Bad thinks it's a fitting one. Bagi is a pacifist now, and her bright eyes are full of curiosity and determination. She thanks him for being kind to her now. She doesn't mention her brother.

[brainrotbunny]

library love (blurb?)

chapter one out now!

remus lupin x slytherin!sirius' sister!reader

synopsis; remus lupin and yourself, find a common interest in coffee, books, chocolate, and annoying your eldest brother.

warnings; school, sirius being sirius, swearing?

A/N: this is just a test blurb it's unedited (and pretty boring) for now, its just to see if anyone would be interested in this lmk if you are but trust me the next chapters will be much better!

your fifth year was off to a rough start, you knew it would go this way but you hadn't expected this. being a black was difficult, and you could say being sirius' sister was just as hard, after all he was known for his dramatics, that being said even after he had run away from your unfortunate home situation the tension between you and your brother didn't subside.

in-fact it felt as if a bigger rift had opened between you and your eldest brother, now being divided by more than just opinions and school houses, but by space as well.

so as you stand in your first class of the year, which happens to be a year above your own it doesn't shock you when you see your brother and his "marauders" as they call themselves, but what does shock you is the glare hes casting your way, grey eyes splintering into your own.

now you were used to sirius' glares and his comments by now, it never helped that you had made a few of your own but it looked like he was ready to rip you to shreds, as if you had imposed on his space and that was in-fact what he thought of this new arrangement.

your professors had agreed your marks in transfiguration, herbology, potions, history of magic, and oddly enough divination were exceptional and you were eligible to move up a year.

you cast a glare back at your eldest brother before taking your seat, the spot beside a rather gaunt looking slytherin whom you hadnt spoken to before. the class was clearly divided by house not done so by the professor but rather the students who all had separated besides a select few.

mcgonagall stood tall at the front of the class room her judging eyes assessed the classroom, before promptly stepping back to her desk and beginning the lesson.

your second class of the day was luckily free of your brother, watching as other students filed in by the door you were relieved when lupin, evans, and mary mcdonald appeared lacking a certain long haired boy who had made sure to stare daggers through your head all through transfiguration. you were also relieved to find rosier was in the class with you, now you weren't exactly friends but you got along just fine after all he was close friends with regulus.

"hello class, welcome to year 6 advanced potions, now remain standing while i just-" slughorn pauses "try to finddd" he drags out as he shuffles around his desk opening drawers and sorting through a mess of papers "ah-ha, the seating arrangements"

"yes, yes i know but it must be done" slughorn says as grumbles ring throughout the classroom, he gets up from his desk albeit struggling a bit before walking over to the first desk in the room and calling out two names you hadnt heard before, a light-haired ravenclaw sat down followed by a short and pudgy slytherin.

he continued calling out names, one by one student sat down followed by their pre-picked partners.

"snape and mcdonald"

"evans and hedgeflower"

"lupin and black"

fuck.

[sapphic-woes]

When You Met Her pt. 2

A/N: Thank you guys sm for the encouragement, I was real nervous posting the first chapter so I'm so happy it was well received! Every tag was dear to my heart <3 Anyways, onto Sevika's pov. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1k. AO3 Link

___________

Sevika doesn't know what to do with you.

The–her omega is sound asleep. You look almost peaceful. No fear contorting your face. No horrible shaking. Viktor cleaned you up and treated what he could, but even he was shocked by your condition.

Seven years.

Sevika wants to gag. Most omegas trapped as illegal sex slaves lasted a year. Two if they were lucky. The x-rays done on you make her see red, broken bones and fractures all poorly healed. Bruises cover your body from head to toe. Even asleep, the bitter smell of fear clings to your body as if it were permanent, and Sevika can feel her blood boil. 

She wants to rip every alpha who ever touched you to shreds. You were her mate, her fated person, and yet you were tortured for so long, and only now was Sevika able to save you.

Is it too late? Viktor said they'd gotten you high on shimmer. From the marks, they'd drugged you with the heat inducer countless times. It was no wonder you didn't smell sweet to Sevika despite being on the drug, probably used to its effects by now. Luckily shimmer wasn't addictive, but it fucked with an omega's heat cycle badly. The longer the use, the harder it was to get back to a natural pattern.

However, what had really affected Sevika was when Viktor said you were her bond. 

Mates were made through either bonds or claims. Claims were more common, and could happen between any of the designations. However, bonds were extremely rare, and only occurred through alphas and omegas. They were intense and primal, driven by instinct more than anything. Sevika had only met one bonded couple in her life, and that was Caitlyn's parents.

"Damn. You stink." Vi's mocking tone has Sevika rolling her eyes. Her right hand soldier saunters into the room, hair wet after scrubbing all the scents of the brothel off her body. Sevika knew exactly why Vi was so quick to shower–Caitlyn was the type to get possessive when the smell of another alpha was on Vi–whether it was from an operation or not. 

Too many times Vi went home soaked in pheromones only to call in "sick" the next day. Now, Sevika finally understood what drove Caitlyn to react like that, and they were only a claimed couple. When the level-headed leader inhaled the thick scent of various alphas stuck to your body…

It made her jaw lock, to put it lightly.

This bond would be her undoing. Sevika was usually more in control of her emotions. She had to be in her line of work–specializing in uncovering the illegal exploitation of omegas. It was a job with sleepless nights and little results, but tonight had been better. 

Shutting down that infamous underground brothel was definitely the highlight of her unit's last month. But when she'd sensed a sliver of your scent under all that fear and found you? When she'd seen what they'd done to you?

"Can you blame me?" Sevika mutters, and the smirk on Vi's face falls.

"No. Looking over her file…she's a worse case than most. Dunno how she's even alive." The beta shrugs, cracking her knuckles, "if it was Caitlyn, I'd be seeing red."

"She'd be seeing red." Sevika snorts.

"Same thing." Vi shoots her a pointed glare. "Look, I'm just saying that with the condition she was in and the fact that she's your bond?  It's a miracle you only beat that alpha up. I was expecting you to go on a rampage." Sevika shakes her head.

"I would have if you hadn't stopped me. If she wasn't–if she didn't react like I'd hurt her–" Sevika finds her throat choking up, and Vi places a hand on her shoulder for comfort. Her calming scent helps to cool the alpha down, though Sevika is still on edge. 

"...It'll be a while before she can recognize that your anger isn't dangerous for her. You know how bad the abuse can get." Sevika's lips press into a thin line. She nods once, then twice. Then she nods with a hand pinching the bridge of her nose and her other at her hip, restlessly pacing.

"I know. But fuck. I'm not meant for this part. Rehabilitation is what your girl is good at. What Vander and Mel can do easy. But me? I find them, I bring them back here. End of story. I don't help them heal. I don't stay." Vi sighs.

"Sev. She's already scenting you." The alpha groans.

"I can see that. Shit–believe me, I noticed that. It felt so right, and I was proud knowing my scent helped her calm down, let alone sleep."  Vi raises an eyebrow.

"So what's the issue again? Most omegas in her position would do anything to get away from an unfamiliar alpha. You have, like, a headstart dude." At Sevika's exasperated stare, Vi snorts.

"It's not like you don't have us to help guide you. Plus Sev…" the beta looks up with a small smile, reassuring her team leader.

"You aren't going to hurt her. Not with that attitude. So try a little bit, okay? She needs you." Sevika swallows. She's certain the sound is loud enough to echo in the room. She isn't the gentle type. She's a dominant alpha in every sense of the term. Her aggression, strength, and stature make her a damn near unbeatable opponent. Adding the natural desire to control she has, there's little Sevika can't do.

But this?

You're frail. So small under the blankets of the hospital bed, tiny breaths making her check over and over again that you're even alive. How can she come near you? Let alone be your mate? 

"I…I'm gonna report to Vander." Refusing to answer Vi, Sevika walks out of the room. She ignores the beta's loud, obnoxious sigh, head pounding with the stress of the night's events.

[local-diavolo-anon]

thinking about some scene from my Prehistoric Mermen AU because i like brainstorming worldbuilding and random stuff

Y/N would probably be asked to send long reports on what they found to be edible for human and what wasn't, how they examined it, how accurate the examination was and how it has been prepared

time traveler scientists always had rations with them and were intructed not to eat anything from the geological era they were sent into because of of risk of food poisoning or straight up eating shit that they can't digest

Y/N had rations as well but those ran out after one week or two since they were not made for stops longer than a few days (again for safety reasons, you have no idea what might be lurking in the shadows of a prehistoric jungle or what illnesses dinosaurs got that never survived until our days)

so once those rations ran out Y/n had to rely on their inboard analyzer to individually separate the chemical components of plants and animals to determine what they could have eaten and what was going to kill them instantly

most of the food they found to be edible was probably sea food, and not because they might particularly enjoy it but rather because going into the forest was not an option and Sun and Moon absolutely bombarding their ass with extra food to make sure their weird land friend didn't starve

(and also because sharing food is a sign of affection among predators; Y/n knows this but things Sun and Moon just see them as a weirdly shaped possible mate, like ostriches do in their era with humans)

Probably all of Y/N reports are a bit chaotic, especially the videos

Some videos that they sent slong with written reports include:

Them screaming maniacally that they managed to find something akin to potatoes and that made them "unstoppable" (they weren't properly potatoes an tastes slightly more sour, but still acceptable)

Extremely out of focus clip of them dancing on the beach with a piece of salt they managed to make by drying sea water

Several harpoon hunting videos where all you can hear is them cursing at some smaller predator stealing their catches constantly

A Few videos of them screamind directly at other creatures like calling 'bitch ass motherfucker' a raptor that showed up, stole their blanket, ripped it to shreds and chased them until they were on top of a tree

first person video of them playing dodgeball in the sea with Sun and Moon using a poor ammonite

First person video of them chasing away a flock of small pterosauruses after the little asses started stealing their food like seagulls

But the reports on their diet always look the funniest because they took the iron as it was hot and beat the shit out of it, so now each video looks like a youtube mukbang; full on table with food displayed in front of them and camera as they describe what everything tastes like

sometimes Sun join them on their improvised table by the beach and snatches a bite because everything smells good, but only Sun because Moon can't stay on land (too big)

Moon however is sometimes visible in the background splashing around in the deeper ocean where he hunts

in a video or two he is probably visible straight out jumping out of the water to snatch pterosauruses fresh out of the air, having hands is a big advantage when your natural competitors only have their mouth

Y/N has many other logs and videos of things they did or accomplished, but some of them were supposed to be about other things and suddently stuff happened

like a video of them trying to fish and see what worked as a bait and what didn't, and then Moon drops a full ass squid by their side (it was later identified as a Tusoteuthis and luckily safe for them to eat)

as a conclusion: Y/N sending back home to their friends and colleagues chaotic videos of them having a blast with their prehistoric reptile friend

Y/n making a log diary of everything they did with Sun and Moon so they can remember them when and if they have/can to go back home

[whatiwishfanfiction]

Chapter 8 is up!

EXCERPT:

He'd finally become such a joke to the townsfolk, it seemed they'd entirely forgotten he was human.

Instead of just tomatoes, the grocer volunteered wheelbarrows of spoiled produce that some teenagers mixed with glass and rocks. A particularly well aimed stone knocked out a tooth as he was belting out his favorite jingle:

"The Thneed is good, the Thneed is grea—YOW!"

Once-ler usually didn't stop for anything, but the taste of blood made him drop his guitar on his foot. This hurt even worse, so he sprang up and down. The guitar bounced onto the concrete while the crowd laughed and cheered.

Once-ler didn't get a chance to see if the instrument had broken, because, in a fit of enthusiasm, the mean little girl with red hair ensured this was the case. She smashed it on the ground with the second worst noise Once-ler had ever heard.

A tomato landed in his stunned face, but he didn't even feel it. He just watched open-mouthed as fruits and vegetables pelted him and the girl stomped on the pieces, giggling with her parents who stood back and watched.

"Alright, sweetie, that's enough, we have to get to Grandma's house," the mother finally told her. She smiled and pulled out a big bag of chocolate-coated pretzels for her daughter as they walked away.

Once-ler's last shred of optimism finally evaporated. After his father had passed away, the guitar had been the only good memory he'd had from home.

"THAT'S IT!" he roared. "I've had enough!" He stormed from the gazebo with tears in his eyes.

Only the baker looked slightly sympathetic. She twisted a strand of curly brown hair around her finger as he strode past.

"Is this really the way to treat a stranger?!" he heard her yell at the grocer.

"Oh, come on, Norma, he's just a self-centered out-of-towner." The grocer sounded slightly abashed.

Once-ler turned to see Norma stomp her foot. "I know he is, and I know that piece of junk he's selling looks like a wadded up piece of bubblegum with hairs stuck in it, but you just gotta understand! Homeless mentally ill folks need to be shown charity..."

Her words just infuriated Once-ler more. "My family was right. I quit!" He ripped the Thneed from his neck, and accidentally whipped the baker in the face as he threw it away. It knocked off her glasses, which fell to the ground and shattered. Oops.

He walked away faster. Luckily his long legs took him back to the forest before anyone could call the police.

[callsign-bunnie]

Ghost stalker with the soap

Alright, you left this fairly open ended and it's Horror Night so I'm gonna go about this my way. This is a Yellow

--

It started subtle. Soap started to notice things going missing in his dorm.

A tee shirt he didn't particularly care about, but wore enough to notice it was gone, was the first thing he noticed. He'd gone to pull it on for class and realized he couldn't find it, anywhere. But, he'd just passed it off as probably having left it at the laundromat.

Then, it was a chain bracelet. This one was actually kind of dear to his heart, since it was one of the few things he'd received from his parents' estate. So it was pretty upsetting when it went missing.

From there, it was more stuff.

Then notes started. Soap got home from a date and he found a sticky note on his bathroom mirror. He doesn't deserve you. It'd made Soap's blood run cold.

Soap had glanced around and locked his windows. He'd barely slept. The next day, when he'd gotten back from classes, he'd found another note. This time it was You don't need to be frightened. Soap wasn't frightened.

Okay, maybe he was. But... he had fair reason, damn it! Someone was breaking into his fucking dorm and leaving creepy ass notes. Yeah, he was going to be at least a little fucking unnerved.

He had just shredded the note and locked his windows again. He was tempted to get a gun. He knew how to use them, so that wouldn't be a problem, though his campus didn't allow them.

Soap decided against it. It was probably some asshole trying to be funny. In a really shitty way.

Then he found the camera. He'd been searching through his stuff and he found a weird little pile of things on his dresser that he didn't remember making.

In it had been a little circle thing, which was black and plastic. Honestly, it was a testament to Soap's ADHD that he hadn't noticed it, earlier, because the wire was almost obvious.

Soap wasn't sure how he'd felt about it. He'd stomped on it a few times to smash it and then ripped it out of the wall. He was starting to lose his mind. He knew he should tell someone but he just... didn't think it would do anything.

I'm sorry. The camera was too much. Soap frowned when he saw the note.

Another was on his dresser, next to a tiny stuffed bear. Forgive me?

Soap wasn't even sure how he was supposed to answer that. No. He didn't. He took the bear and the notes and threw them away in the dumpster outside.

Luckily, no more notes came until the morning after a particularly shitty date. I told you he didn't deserve you. Soap sighed. He couldn't even feel unnerved at this one.

Before he went to class, he left his own note. Couldn't you have just like left your number or something? Or ask for mine like a normal person?

Soap wasn't even surprised at the text he'd received in the middle of class. I was nervous that would be too forward.

Soap immediately set the name as "stalker" and sighed. Oh well, he hated this class, anyway. And breaking into my dorm and leaving creepy fucking notes, wasn't?

I didn't know how else to talk to you.

You put a camera in my dorm. That's creepy as fuck.

Forgive me, please. I just wanted to be able to see you.

Soap frowned at how sad that almost was. No, no, no. No sympathy for the creepy ass stalker dude. What pronouns should I think you as?

I'm a man.

Soap shrugged. Building a face to the weirdo, now. Are you a tall man?

Taller than most.

Soap flushed a little. He liked tall men. What about your eye color?

Why do you want to know?

I just want a face to the dude who's stalking me.

There wasn't a text back for a while and Soap sighed, slumping a little. He'd asked too many questions too quickly.

However, he perked up near the end of class, hearing his phone buzz.

Blue.

Soap tried to think about it. Tall with blue eyes... What color hair?

Blond.

Soap was starting to build the image of him in his head. He kind of liked what he had made, to be honest. His stalker sounded like his type. You got a name?

You can call me Ghost, if you want.

Soap frowned. Ghost? Ghost? The fuck kind of name is that?

It's not my real one, obviously. I don't want you calling the police on me.

Soap sighed. So Ghost was rather smart. Well, he did manage to keep breaking in and he'd put a camera in his dorm. He had to be some kind of smart for that.

He didn't answer Ghost, just went back to his dorm.

And Ghost didn't text him again for a few days. Soap was honestly sure he'd forgotten about him.

If you met me, you wouldn't like me.

I haven't met you and I don't like you. You keep breaking into my dorm. Soap shook his head at the text, laying in bed.

I said I was sorry.

You're an odd person. Soap responded, snorting. How would an apology make up for that?

Don't be mad at me. I just wanted to be close to you.

You could ask me out like a normal person. Soap sighed. Even if he was a fucking creep, Ghost seemed kind of sad.

You're too good for me.

Then why are you stalking me? Soap frowned a little, confused.

I don't know.

Soap rolled his eyes and tossed his phone across the room. He needed to go to bed.

Again, Ghost didn't contact him again. Soap had decided to give the guy he was trying to date another chance. It'd been kind of nice, honestly.

He'd even walked him up to his dorm and everything.

However, Soap had walked into his dorm to another tiny stuffed animal on his dresser and a single black rose with a skull bead on a ribbon around it.

He's no good for you.

Soap frowned. And he found himself starting to believe it.

--

I will do a part 2, just this is getting kind of long. Just send me the ask if you want it.

[theoceanoasis]

Hot rod desperate to get his sparkling to safety joins the decepticons who aren’t the monsters autobots made them out to be. They’re monsters made of circumstance not born monsters

Before the destruction of Nyon he'd been at a bar when he met someone. He didn't know they were the Decepticons third in command. They were handsome and charming. Both of them looking to relieve some tension.

Going back to his room the two of them interfaced and it was amazing. The best he'd ever had. He thought Soundwave would leave right after but he stayed the night. Letting him snuggle against him which he appreciated. Hating it when his partner left him right after. It always made him feel like he was nothing but shareware and for the next few days he'd feel dirty no matter how much he cleaned himself.

It was a few days after Soundwave had left that he started to feel symptoms. At first it had been easy to brush them off and then Nyon happened and he forgot all about it. So overcome with grief he barely noticed.

The Decepticons at the time had offered him a place amongst their ranks, but he refused. He wanted to stay where he was and join his people in death.

But something stopped him and that was the little spark somehow still flickering in his chest. The last sparkling of Nyon.

He couldn't get rid of it. He owed it to the people of Nyon to raise his sparkling and teach them the traditions of his home city.

He would not let Nyons memory fade away. Determined he knew he couldn't stay there. It wasn't safe and didn't have any resources for sparklings.

He traveled to the next city over. Which was a hard journey with the war destroying roads and him having to walk some ways.

By the time he got there he was exhausted and worried about his sparkling. Terrified that all of this stress would cause him to loose them.

He sat on the ground. Legs aching and unable to stand. He put a hand on his belly trying to figure out what he was going to do. He was in an unfamiliar city and had no idea where to go from there.

Luckily a kind medic offered to help him. He'd been weary at first, but not having another option he followed after them.

They led him to their small clinic where they were helping everyone they could and looked him over. He desperately needed energon. Which they were happy to provide.

They helped find him a shelter where he could stay and would check up on him, making sure the sparkling was developing nicely.

Laying on his back he watched in awe as his sparkling appeared on the screen. He felt tears fall because they were so beautiful and he loved them already.

Wanting to pay the medic back for their kindness. Even though they insisted it wasn't necessary. He helped out around the clinic doing small things like bringing them tools and cleaning up the place.

Things weren't perfect. The clinic was cramped and he slept on the floor. Energon while he was given some at the clinic was becoming harder to come by as the war raged on.

But it was home and he was trying his best to make a bad situation work. Hoping that maybe he'll find a way off world so his little one can be safe.

Of course then the war came and the city was ripped to shreds. He remembered waking up to screaming and panicking. He'd pressed himself against the wall and held on in fear of being trampled.

Looking around he could hear bombs going off as buildings and people burned. Panicking he ran to the clinic. Pushing past the panicking civilians who were trying to get away.

He somehow managed to make it. Gasping at the the horrible sight. The windows were shattered. Glass littering the ground. He could see the bullet holes on the wall and when he looked down. The medic along with the patients they'd been trying to help were all dead. Their bodies already turning gray.

He stared for a long time. The screaming a distant sound. All he could see was the medic laying their. Face twisted in fear and panic. Body riddled with holes. The smell of blood and death made him gag.

Snapping out of it. He knew there was nothing he could do. He needed to protect his little one. With a hand on his belly he joined the crowd who was trying to flee.

Only to be cut down by both sides fighting without a care in the world. So determined to destroy their enemies they didn't see the world around them.

He felt a sharp sting against his arm and he looked down to see himself bleeding. Looking around he needed to find somewhere he could hide.

Spotting an abandoned building nearby. He hid inside. Making himself as small as possible he waited in silence. Every time he heard a plane fly by he'd tense. Waiting for them to drop a bomb on him.

He didn't know how long he stayed there. Until he was found by a group of Autobots. He raised his hands spark pulsing in fear as they pointed their weapons at him.

One of them noticing his swollen belly smirked.

"This one might be of some use to us."

They grabbed him and dragged him to the Autobots base. Where they locked him in a room. Only coming in to give him energon, as they waited for his sparkling to arrive.

Afterwards they planned on using him to make more. Since their numbers were low and they needed more soldiers. They thought forcing carriers to have children would fix the problem.

It was disgusting and he was afraid for his little one. Knowing who the sire was. If they looked anything like him. He had no doubt the Autobots would kill his sparkling.

He couldn't let that happen and needed to find a way to escape.

Looking around he took note of everything. There were no guards outside his room and the base wasn't as secure as he's sure they'd like.

His room was completely empty. Which means it would be of no use to him. There were no windows so he couldn't use those.

When the base was attacked. He finally got his chance to escape. While everyone was busy fighting, he snuck out the back door. Only stopping to grab as much energon as he could before leaving.

Looking around. He needed to figure out what he was going to do next. He needed to find a way off world.

He decided to go to the nearby city hoping it wasn't completely destroyed. The journey wasn't as long, but he was a lot further along. Having to take frequent breaks to rest.

By the time he reached the city. He found it under Decepticon occupation. Exhausted,.he couldn't go somewhere else and had to find a way to make it work.

He kept his head low and took up all sorts of odd jobs to support himself and hopefully get enough money to leave. It seemed like others had the same idea. Because he heard whispers about the Decepticons having jobs that didn't involve joining their cause.

He was reluctant to take any of those jobs. Worried because of what happened with the Autobots. He'd always been under the impression that the Decepticons were crueler.

As the war continued raging. Jobs became harder to come by. Until he had no choice. He applied to work in their kitchens. Which seemed like a safer job than most.

Things were going well. He was safe and stayed in the kitchen. Rarely speaking to anyone outside of those who worked there.

He was as content as he could be. It was hard work but he was able to save money. Which he could hopefully use to get off world.

He'd been working late, cleaning up the kitchen before going to bed. When he heard people run inside.

Looking over he was surprised to find Soundwave along with his cassettes. The Decepticon didn't seem to recognize him as Rumble and Frenzy asked for milk.

He quickly made them both a glass of warm milk. Trying to hide how exhausted he was. Worried about loosing his job.

He could see Soundwave watching him but he didn't say anything.

He had no idea what the Decepticon was thinking and it made him nervous. He didn't know how he'd react if he learned the truth. Not wanting to put his sparkling in harm's way. He decided not to tell him knowing it was for the best.

Soundwave was busy helping lead the Decepticons. He didn't have time for a sparkling. If he even wanted their little one.

If anyone found out who the sire was. His little one could also be in danger. Autobots might try to use his sparkling as a hostage or kill them out of revenge.

It was best if Soundwave didn't know. Hopefully he wouldn't realize who he was.

The next day when he went into work. There was a chair waiting for him. He also noticed people seemed nicer and was surprised when Decepticons started giving him tips. Even though they usually didn't do that.

They'd also make sure he'd eaten and that he wasn't overexerting himself. They'd use the excuse that his food was really good whenever he asked and they didn't want to lose that.

Even though he could see them looking at his growing belly.

He was surprised that they seemed concerned about his well-being and didn't do anything to him. Now that they knew he was carrying. They continued treating him as a normal Cybertronian and didn't try to keep him for themselves.

They continued giving him money. Even though he tried to refuse they always insisted. Giving what little they had which he was thankful for.

It wasn't long before he had enough money and could buy a ticket to escape. Although he appreciated the Decepticons and all they had done for him. He couldn't let his sparkling be raised in a war zone. They deserved so much more than being forced to fight if they wanted to live.

He climbed onto the transport and looked at his home world one last time. Having no idea when he'd be back.

Maybe one day he'd see Soundwave again and he'd finally tell him the truth. Until then he was on his own.

[rayraygo1267]

A Gabenath Fanfiction: Admiration in Disguise Chapter Five

Note: Ahhh it's the last chapter you guys!

Rated: T

Warnings: Minor Language

Word Count: 3,716

Link to Chapter Four

Chapter Five

I greatly appreciate the opportunity you have given me—

Nathalie huffed, pressing a pointed finger to the backspace key of her keyboard. She could already feel a migraine beginning to form behind her eyes — pricking like sharp needles insistently into the crevices of her brain. She knew it would soon develop into a full fledged dizzy spell if not mitigated, but her focus was too captivated by her current objective to make any moves to do so.

This was her fifth attempt at a rough draft and once again she was staring at a blank white screen, the mouse cursor silently blinking back at her, daunting her as if they were in a silent standoff, the absence of words on her computer screen edging her on. 

It had been five days since she had tested the waters with Gabriel, crossing over the boundary line that she herself had set firmly in place, and five days since she'd made the decision that would alter her life in a way that she could have never anticipated, much less with permanent ramifications. 

Nonetheless, the decision had to be made and she knew it was the best option. It was the option that would give the Agreste family their best chance at being reunited with Emilie — their best chance at happiness. 

Nathalie  knew if she stayed with them any longer, she'd get in the way of that. Her feelings for Gabriel were only growing and getting profusely out of hand and if she pursued them any further she'd hinder any chances Gabriel had at accomplishing his goal. Her impending illness also didn't help matters, as it was seemingly only getting worse as the days went on.

She didn't know where she'd be going from here, for the Agreste's had been the closest thing she had obtained to any kind of family for the past decade. The mere thought of starting anew without them was akin to the feeling of a piece of dried up sandpaper being torn apart and shredded, like her own heart was being forcefully ripped from her chest. But regardless of how much it would pain her, she knew it was what had to be done.

Luckily, she loved the Agreste’s enough to let them go.

Gabriel Agreste was nearly finished with the spring's new clothing line. He just had to read over a few more documents and sign a few more waivers and then the line would be selling in stores worldwide, just in time for the beginning of April. The main features consisted of flowy spring dresses with the hem passing just below a woman's knees and brightly colored shirts with the Agreste brand logo printed across the front. Most critics would perhaps consider the design  to be overworked but Gabriel knew it would sell out like wildfire. 

And if he were being honest with himself, he couldn't wait to be done with this whole ordeal. It had been taking up too much of his time, and time wasn’t something he always had available to him — what with having another life as Hawkmoth? 

In spite of that, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the fashionable obligation. Having a double life was far from easy and if he could take one burden off his plate then he’d also be able to turn his focus to more vital affairs. 

Just the thought of having such a weight lifted off his shoulders, made a small smile lift up from the corners of his lips as he took a sip of his miraculously still piping black coffee. As he swallowed, the warm liquid descending down his throat with a scorching aftertaste, Gabriel felt a small tinge waver through him, causing his tongue to go numb. He stared down into the mostly filled mug, then upward as his eyes reflected off the ceiling’s light fixtures then back down into the dark caffeinated fluid.

It was coffee, coffee that Nathalie had brought him just this morning. Her attitude had been stoic, permitting no comment other than regular pleasantries.

She had been, for lack of a better term, quite reserved these last few days, only assisting him when asked and of course firmly sticking to addressing him with respectable mannerisms.

Gabriel didn't enjoy the tension that was building up between them. It almost felt like two strangers living together in one house, only speaking when necessary and keeping to themselves their own personal lives. They had never previously held each other at such a distance and although they hadn't been as close as Gabriel wished for them to be, their friendship was better than this — than nothing. 

Friendship, Gabriel pondered, his eyes momentarily darting back to his design pad. It seemed they didn't even share that anymore. Not since that day, not since Nathalie had changed the wavelengths of their relationship to a more open ended setting.

He had wanted to talk to her about all this, in fact his brain started churning out speeches and scenarios — some with better outcomes than others — but how did one tell another of their desperate need for a closeness without opening their heart to them? Gabriel was not a social person, most people were aware of that. He didn't like overly drawn out conversations, or any sort of unnecessary intimate relations, he much preferred to keep to himself.

Just last night he had gone to see Emilie, asking her for her advice seemed like the best course of action to take. He felt foolish thinking back on it now, for Emilie seemed to be the only way he knew how to deal with his problems. Nevertheless, he had to inquire with her one last time and even without hearing her voice, he knew what she would say. He knew she would tell him to be honest with himself — with Nathalie — and he knew she was right.

Yet a problem still remained, one that had kept him up at night tossing and turning in frustration. 

He didn’t know how to proceed. He felt as though things were already set in stone, like even if he were to give Nathalie the world, she’d just hand it back to him with a simple but clipped, “No thank you sir.” 

Gabriel's forehead creased as he suddenly remembered his current task at hand and the time parameters that were in place along with it. He couldn't think of Nathalie right now, no matter how much his mind yearned to. He couldn’t… not when he had work to do, plus what most would call the ‘universe’ seemed to have a different agenda as a soft knock echoed from outside his office door.

"Sir," came Nathalie's voice, as velvety and soft as ever. Gabriel felt his sternum contract, his middle thumping soundly against his chest.

"I know you're very busy but may I please come in for a moment? There is something I'd like to discuss."

Gabriel stared down at the documents in front of him, frowning as a wet, brown smudge marked one of the pages, the remainder of a tiny droplet that had fallen from the rim of his coffee cup.

The knocking returned, though this time with a more forceful reverberation. Gabriel  jolted, the blood flowing back into his veins as he moved, hurriedly tidying up his mess of a workspace, suddenly self conscious of his cluttered surroundings. 

"Sir?" Nathalie called again, this time not accompanied with a knock.

Gabriel blew out a breath, forcing himself to remember how to speak.

"Erm, yes Nathalie, come in." He spluttered, mushing his work documents into somewhat of a neat pile.

Nathalie opened the door, her stance stiff and her gaze fixed. In her hands she held a manila envelope that her hands seemed to like fidgeting with the corners of.

"Hello, sir." She murmured, her tone vacant. Gabriel peaked up at her over the rim of his glasses, frowning.

"Is something wrong Nathalie? Are you feeling alright?” He spoke calmly, despite the soft yet consistent pound of his heart, “Is everything okay with Adrien?"

Nathalie blinked, "Your son is fine sir. He is currently at his fencing lesson."

Gabriel nodded, scanning her, trying to find an explanation for her unusual behavior, though this behavior had been rearing its ugly head for the last five days. 

Nathalie could see that Gabriel was trying to figure her out and rather than leave him in the dark, she pressed on, knowing that if she didn’t do this now, she wouldn’t be able to make herself do it at all.

"I'm resigning, sir."

The words were thick in her throat, yet somehow she had managed. Nathalie placed her letter of resignation on top of Gabriel's desk, not daring to meet his eyes.

Gabriel was stunned to say the very least. Perhaps he’d misheard her, for what she had just said had to have been a mistake. He couldn't bring himself to even acknowledge her words let alone some fruitless letter of resignation.

If he acknowledged it, it would take a presence as reality and he couldn't accept that. He could not accept Nathalie leaving. Not when he needed her — not when her presence was the one thing that brought him any amount of joy anymore. He wouldn't stand for this. He refused.

"What are you going on about Nathalie? I don’t think I understand," Gabriel snapped, voice shrilling as he bolted to his feet, his movements so haste that a splash of coffee flew from his white mug and landed in a nice little splotch onto one of his documents.

Nathalie sighed. She had anticipated this reaction but that did not take away from the fact that she didn't particularly want to witness it.

"I can no longer work for you, sir. I've come to realize that I am no longer a decent candidate in helping you achieve your quest in saving Emilie. Due to my illness and...other circumstances I know I will only restrict you."

Gabriel scoffed, scowling, color rising in his cheeks."Don't be ridiculous Nathalie. You know this is all pointless without you. I need you." As the words left his mouth, he could  feel all the emotion dripping from his voice like the ends of a drippy umbrella.

Nathalie's heart swelled at Gabriel’s words, though tinted with what felt close to a seething burning sensation. She really hoped Gabriel wouldn't beg her to stay. If he pushed too much she didn't think she'd have the strength to deny him.

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be sir. You know I only want what's best for you and Adrien—"

"You are what's best for me and Adrien!" Gabriel lashed, pounding his fist to his desk, causing his coffee cup to take a full tumble to the ground.

Out of instinct, Nathalie made a move to retrieve it but stopped short when Gabriel only kicked it farther out of reach, causing it to roll against the wall and crack on its side.

"Sir!" Nathalie yelped, "You need to get ahold of yourself!”

Gabriel’s cheeks burned, his eyes bulging, "How can I Nathalie?” He snapped.

“How can I? Huh? My assistant—” he paused, stumbling over his choice of phrasing, ��my friend who has stood by my side for years suddenly decides to get up and leave? No notice, no explanation—"

Nathalie could practically palpate the sharp pang reverberating throughout her. She could feel a fervent heat building behind her eyes.

"I told you sir. I'm holding you back."

Gabriel huffed, crossing his arms,"You're not—"

"I'm sick aren't I?" Nathalie interrupted, causing Gabriel to hesitate. She was right. He had been taking precautions when it came to fighting for the miraculous and handling her illness, but he wouldn't say she was holding him back.

He needed Nathalie if he ever wanted to be reunited with Emilie. He needed Nathalie because without her his heart wouldn't be beating and oh how he missed that beat. The beat and thrum of loving another was something most only got to experience once, yet somehow he’d been fortunate enough to get to experience it for a second time. He was far too selfish to give it up now. 

Gabriel's telling silence had been enough of an explanation for Nathalie and a good decoy to shield him from the truth.

"I'll only make things harder. With me around, you won't be able to focus on saving Emilie, not if you have to constantly worry about keeping my health in check."

Gabriel's face twisted up into a bitter sneer, his eyes narrowed, "Your health can be dealt with. As long as you don't use the peacock miraculous—"

"But you need Mayura, don't you?" Nathalie reasoned, hands resting firmly on her hips.

Gabriel's eyes flickered, considering.

"Yes...which is exactly why you need to stay. I can't do this without you."

It was like being stabbed, her body leaking out from the inside. Those words confirmed it. That was all she was good for. She was his assistant, she was Mayura and nothing more.

Nathalie could feel her insides burn, her face heating with a flush of anger. Why couldn't she be good enough? Why did he beg for Mayura to stay? Why couldn't he beg for her? 

"I'm sure you can find a way to fix the peacock miraculous, sir. And then you'll be able to use it yourself. You'll no longer need me—“ she wavered, “er…or Mayura.” 

Nathalie sucked in a breath, prepared for Gabriel to have another outburst but all he did was sigh. A deep, wearied sound, his pointer finger and thumb resting over the bridge of his nose.

"Why are you doing this Nathalie? What have I done that has caused you to want to leave so badly? If you don't want to help Emilie, fine. I don't expect you to but I do want you here. You are my assistant after all."

The air in Nathalie’s lungs grew thick, her mouth parting. Sometimes one had to be more careful when it came to their desires.  "Sir..." her will power was crumbling before her like cracked plaster. 

Gabriel stared her down, his previous defeated demeanor glossing over.

"Is it a raise? Is that it? Is that what you want?" Gabriel hurled. He knew he was being unethical but his anger was getting the best of him — taking reign over anything else.

It was like being slapped, an abrupt showering burst of cold water while lying in the sun. A pang of hurt washed over Nathalie, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Are you serious?" She muttered, her voice hoarse and full of disbelief.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow, testing her, despite his inner conscience trying to reign him back in.

Nathalie scoffed, her guilt for trying to let him down gently, washing away like dust on a surface.

"You really think I'm doing all this because...because I want your money?"

The fierce punctuation of Nathalie’s words halted Gabriel in his tracks. He immediately knew he'd overstepped, but he also knew it was too late to turn back, "Nathalie..."

"No!" Nathalie barked, raising a pointer finger. She was more than just angry now, she was pissed.

"I've known you for years, Gabriel. I was there when you were at your lowest, barely making damned near ends meet and you have the gall to think I, of all people, who has continuously stood by your side in all this," she paused, gesturing wildly, "madness? You really think that all I want out of this is your damn money? Are you kidding me?"

Gabriel felt himself unravel, even if he was aware that he was being illogical, he couldn't think of anything else to go off of, he was skin deep in this. 

"Then why Nathalie? Explain it to me! Why are you doing this?!"

Nathalie's eyes flared, red lights curving around the edges of her sight as she let out an enraged cry.

"Because I'm in love with you!"

The words hung in the air, potent and true and both parties were still in awe of them even after several moments. Nathalie's vision was fuzzy, shrouded by her tears. She imagined her face was blotchy, her glasses fogged, but she had to think fast, she had to say something. She had to make sure Gabriel understood. She hadn't wanted him to find out this way or rather at all but now that he has she had to regain control of the situation.

"And..." she breathed, voice choked and uneven, "that conflicts with your objective and this will only make things even more complicated."  She kept her gaze trained on the floor, not wanting to face the man she'd just admitted to loving.

Gabriel was dumbfounded. He felt like all the muscles in his body had turned to mush. His head spun, his heart raced. Was it true? Was Nathalie truly in love with him? Even after all he's done? Could she still have found a way to see the good in him? He wasn’t a fool, he was well aware that he was quite a difficult man to love but somehow, some way Nathalie managed.

Gabriel’s mouth parted, then closed again, words clogged in his throat, fighting desperately for release.

"Nathalie..." he breathed.

"Don't."

Nathalie didn't need to hear him say it. She didn't need his rejection when she was already planning to leave anyway.

"I'm going. You don't need to say anything." Nathalie said, moving back from his desk.

Gabriel tensed, his shoulders going rigid.

 "Nathalie—" he stammered again, trying to form words other than her name. He took a hesitant step towards her.

"Gabriel?" Nathalie questioned as she watched him move closer. His steps were slow and measured, as if he were a hunter approaching its prey.

"Nathalie," he raised his hands, gently cupping the side of her face, something he only dreamed about doing. Nathalie shuddered, for this was far more painful than any amount of rejection. Why couldn't he just scream at her and tell her to go, things would be so much easier then — painful — but easier.

Her eyes watered, tears spilling over, falling lazily down her cheeks. She trembled lightly as she felt Gabriel's thumb brush away the moisture dribbling down her chin.

"What are you doing?" She asked, breath eluding her.

Gabriel smiled softly, his eyes locking with hers, the fury in them completely evaporated.

"I thought you knew."

Nathalie frowned, "Knew what?"

Gabriel chuckled lightly, like an echo in a cathedral, his warm breath blowing against her face. Nathalie knew he wasn’t mocking her, Gabriel could be cruel but he wouldn’t do that to her. Nathalie took a step back, the step of her heel in time with Gabriel’s chuckle. Gabriel continued to laugh, a rare scarce sound. His hand took her own, pulling her back towards him, gently enough to give her enough room to object if she wished to. Nathalie let him guide her, her resolve completely abolished. 

Gabriel squeezed her hand, his smile giddy, "That I'm in love with you too."

Nathalie's heart jumped, her eyes dilating, a gasp escaping her. This couldn't be right. This had to be a faux pas of some sort. She couldn't let herself fall, not when all of this could crumble so easily.

"No...you…” She bit her lip, “What about Emilie?"

Gabriel smiled again, though bittersweet, his hand still holding her close.

 "I will always love Emilie,” He murmured, his eyes lighting with a misty-like haze.

“She was once the reason for all I did in life,” he paused and Nathalie watched as he let the nostalgia of his love for his wife consume him. Nathalie imagined that all those memories were flashing before his eyes, as people say they do when they are faced with accepting a loss. 

After a moment of this his focus returned to her, that smile that Nathalie had not seen in years returning once more, “but I've since found a new reason." He reached down to take both her hands in his, running his fingers over her knuckles.

"You, Nathalie. You are my reason. You are the reason I try so hard everyday in everything I do. I know I've made mistakes but I do truly want to be a better man for you...for Adrien. And although you may not believe me now, I promise I will prove it to you. I will not stop until you know just how much I love you."

Nathalie was full-on crying now, her lower lip trembling. She never thought she'd ever hear such words come from Gabriel's mouth, especially such words attuning to her.

"You...you...love me?" Nathalie murmured, still somewhat in denial.

Gabriel laughed softly, pulling Nathalie even closer, their chests pressed up against one anothers, foreheads nearly touching.

"Yes, my dear Nathalie." He replied. Nathalie’s heart pulsed as his gaze fell to her lips. Nathalie stared up at those grayish-blue eyes that resembled a hurricane once more. She could see the question there — that one small fragment of hesitation. She could only think of one answer.

Nathalie let her hands travel along the sides of his face, feeling the soft skin and crevices. She closed her eyes to him, allowing him to guide her.

The kiss was soft and gentle, almost as if he were asking her permission. Nathalie felt herself slipping away, not knowing where she'd land as she let herself fall. She'd never kissed a man like this. It was exhilarating and she couldn’t get enough of it — she couldn’t get enough of him.

Eventually Gabriel pulled back, his hands still cupping her face, his eyes studying her flushed cheeks and wet lips, his breath coming out rashly. He noticed that her glasses were fogged, similar to a murky sea. He removed them, setting them to the side. He used his thumb to push a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear, his lips landing in a soft caress against her forehead. 

"Do you understand me now Nathalie?" He whispered against her skin, his question reminiscent of the one he asked her in her room all that while ago.

Nathalie leaned back, letting her gaze fully take in the man she loved. Her heart was rising, her features easing as she finally let herself go, “Yes Gabriel.” 

A/N: Eeeek! I hope you guys enjoyed the final installment of Admiration in Disguise! Please don't hesitate to let me know what y'all think. I'm really excited to start some new fanfic projects now that I've completed this one. Next up will be a short gabenath drabble, so keep an eye out for that! And as always if you have any requests for fanfics or anything gabenath related please let me know! I'll be able to attend to them much more frequently now, seeing as I've completed this project. Finally, sorry for any grammatical errors I'm not the best editor.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

slight au where team russia worked a little faster and eddie and max make it out scathed but alive, unlike vecna who finally got his comeuppance

eddie and steve have an unnamed thing in the months after eddie gets out of the hospital but without an earthquake wrecking hawkins, eyes are everywhere and rumours are hard to kill in a small town and eddie's sick of the way they're all being treated. he thinks it's all because of him, thinks it'll fix everything if he's not around, thinks steve deserves to find his wife and have his nuggets.

so eddie runs away in the middle of the night, just leaves a note for wayne with a promise to call and hitchhikes to cali with his guitar and not much more than the clothes on his back. he works hard and makes it big with his band, they win awards, sell out arenas, front magazine covers but eddie just takes it day by day. time passes without him really recognising its passing, just going from one gig to the next. another town, another state, another country. they've travelled the whole world by now and although his bandmates make a big deal out of birthday's, another trip around the sun eddie! whenever he thinks of home, everything and everyone are just as he left them.

it's the late nineties, eddie and wayne sitting on opposite ends of a phone line having their monthly catch-up when wayne casually mentions that he's going to a divorce party on the weekend. eddie laughs cos parties aren't exactly wayne's scene to start with, but eddie misses small town drama so he asks who at the plant got divorced? and wtf is a divorce party anyway?

and wayne knows he's fumbled the ball in a big way but all he can do at this point is just explain and eddie's sorry but... what?!

steve's getting a divorce! eddie's steve? eddie didn't even know he'd got married! he knows The Party are still close and that when eddie had been dragged into their weird little group, wayne had too. he knows that they keep a good eye on wayne, that he's still one of them.

and wayne was true to his word with not updating eddie on their lives because he knows if he'd heard any of it he'd've come running home immediately but wayne's getting on in years and this little bit of info just sort've slipped out.

so now, guess what? eddie's booking himself a flight because how can he miss this now that he knows it's happening?

so steve's getting drunk surrounded by all the people who love him. he and tina ended things amicably enough, she fell in love with robin and what was steve supposed to do? he could hardly blame her! tina and robin despised each other, had from the moment steve introduced them but robin was going through some work stuff and she'd needed a break. so steve had twisted her arm and she'd come to stay for a month and well, shit happens! they hadn't crossed any boundaries, robin wouldn't ever do that to him but the mother of your kids being in love with your best friend kinda puts the kibosh on your marriage.

it was dustin's idea, the party, he thinks steve needs cheering up, which he probably does because he'd had everything he'd always dreamed of and now his life's in a shambles for the second time even though he's only in his early thirties. except eddie, blast from the past, love of steve's life, took steve two solid years to get over him, steve's eddie, showing up unannounced (because gatecrashing is just eddie's way of not having to deal with all the nerves he's been feeling since he stepped into lax) kills the party.

everyone's furious! steve's drunk, thinks eddie's an hallucination but dustin takes a swing at eddie, which is sobering to say the least. hop's yelling, wants to drag eddie outside "i just wanna talk, i swear!" luckily for eddie, joyce and murray know him better than that. max is ripping him to shreds, erica's hyping her up and no-one is brave or stupid enough to get in their way.

and eddie's only just now registering that it might've been a terrible idea to just drop in on people you trauma bonded with and then abandoned over a decade ago and wayne's trying to gauge whether he needs to get his nephew the hell outta there or whether it's best to just let it play out and steve might be hammered and in a state of shock and eddie might deserve everything max is saying but he just can't stand there and let it happen.

so steve grabs eddie by the wrist and drags him outside and no-one follows because they all think it's fair that steve gets first crack at him. except steve isn't all that angry, he might be tomorrow, but right now he just tugs eddie into his chest and wraps himself tightly around him.

there's a thousand questions they both want to ask, things they definitely should be talking about but eddie just melts in the circle of steve's arms. he's forgotten why he ever left this space, where he can feel steve's heartbeat and smell the cologne that he still wears and that underlying something that's just steve. then steve squeezes him tighter and sighs so heavily it seems the whole world is on his shoulders and all eddie wants to do is drop everything and help him carry it.

"wayne let slip, huh?" steve says instead of something normal like hello.

"he didn't mean to," eddie defends even though he knows he doesn't need to. he'd seen the hug they’d shared before he'd waltzed in, even though they're all older than eddie thought possible, nothing about The Party has changed.

"sorry about your party," eddie mutters. he does feel bad for ruining their good time, he doesn't know now why he thought he could just pick up where he left off. steve just shrugs, huffs a laugh into eddie's hair

"you're a much better surprise than the strippers they’d booked for me anyway," steve admits. and eddie can't help himself he starts to laugh, it starts off with jiggling shoulders and escalates until there's tears running freely down his face. it wasn't even that funny, the absurdity of this situation isn't even that funny, it's all just... it's a lot.

"jesus h christ! i've missed you," eddie says when he's calmed down enough to speak.

"i missed you, too," steve confesses with such a raw honesty it gives eddie pause, makes him pull his head away from steve just enough to see his face.

"really?" eddie's a little awestruck but he tries to keep his voice level, he fails miserably.

"yes, really! what you thought you'd disappear and we'd all just, what? forget about you?" steve scoffs, looks into eddie's eyes, really looks and then rolls his own "oh my god! you did, didn't you? you're unbelievable, eddie munson! why'd you think the kids are so mad with you?" steve asks remarkably calm. must be a dad thing, eddie thinks because the lump in his throat prevents him from speaking, he can only shrug, "because they love you, you idiot! and you abandoned them but they still love you. dustin waited for two hours outside your indy concert before realising he was waiting outside the wrong door and that you'd already gone. poor kid was a mess for a week!" steve sighs heavily, cups eddie's face, wipes away the fresh tears falling down eddie's cheeks with his thumbs.

"you're not mad," eddie croaks almost accusatory, misery filling him because the one person he wants to love him, the one person he's never stopped loving, is holding him, yes, but thinking about it eddie would've been happier with the fury dustin had shown him because dustin's mad because he loves eddie but steve isn't mad at all.

steve smiles, tired and a little soppy, kisses eddie on the forehead and pulls him back against his chest.

"not yet, but i've no doubt in the morning i'm gonna be livid. you better still be here to see it!" and it's the first time there's been anything warning in steve's tone, it makes eddie hold him tighter.

"i'll be here," he promises. eddie's tucked so closely into steve's chest he doesn't hear his uncle approach, doesn't see the smile he and steve share over eddie's head. wayne knew eddie was safe out here with steve but The Party's getting antsy.

"time to face the music, boy," wayne can't fight his grin when eddie turns in steve's hold, like he used to when they were young and eager to head to bed and wayne would say "those dishes won't wash themselves" and eddie would huff and fuss from the confines of steve's embrace, being dramatic for the sake of it. other than a change in hairstyle and a few new lines on their faces, wayne doesn't see any difference.

eddie grins when he realises that steve is equally reluctant to let go, propping his head on eddie's shoulder and holding him close, they both make puppy dog eyes at wayne, except wayne isn't about to cave like he would with the dishes. his friends are furious but they love him and they're worried that steve's murdered eddie already.

except wayne knows there's no safer place for his boy to be. steve's spent many a night in wayne's trailer, reading through articles, watching award ceremonies, listening to the albums eddie sent to wayne. sleeping in eddie's old bed, both when eddie first left and even more so recently, not that either of them have mentioned that to the others. it's a secret exclusively for the two people in the world who love eddie munson the most.

wayne gives eddie a pointed look and eddie sighs, nods to himself, he can do this. these people love him deep down, even if they don't like him very much right now.

"ready, big boy," eddie teases waggling his eyebrows at steve, who laughs and calls him an idiot affectionately. eddie classes it as a win. steve gives him one last squeeze, reluctantly letting go as the three of them head back inside but steve's hand never quite leaving the small of eddie's back (even when dustin tearfully tackles eddie into a bearhug) might be the best thing he ever could've hoped for.

and eddie thinks that maybe, just this once, his inability to fight his impulse control might've finally worked in his favour.