#also i will start reading comics besides the boy wonder run now

[aleksiej]

i don't like alfred pennyworth, actually

[thattimdrakeguy]

I HAVE BEEN READING ZDARSKY BATMAN, AND I HAVE DECLARED: I FREAKING LOVE IT!!

I'm reading the Batman Zdarsky run in reverse. That way if I see any bull I can back out at anytime: and to be honest--besides a few things. I really enjoy it

LIKE YO, THAT IS JUST STRAIGHT UP TIM DRAKE RIGHT THERE. It knows who he is as a character. his motives, it's great.

Screw the people complaining "oh why is tim still robin :((", THIS IS WHY HE IS STILL ROBIN. Because this is when he's at his BEST. When he gets to hit his character purpose, WHEN HE GETS TO BE HIM AT HIS MOST HIM. It's FANTASTIC.

Reading in reverse because I know I hated the first story, it was so contrived and ridiculous.

But this--this is some good shit.

Tim being an underdog fighter, having to use his wits to win the fight? MY DAWG, MY DUDE, MY GUYS, MY GALS, MY THEMS, MY THEYS, THIS IS SO TIMMY DRAKE. This is so damn Tim Drake, guys. Oh, my gosh, I am loving this so far.

Dick has his temper back? And trust me, he isn't normally like this. But he's hitting a limit AND IT'S SOMETHING NEW, NOT JUST A REFERENCE. HE'S ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING HE'D DO, 'CAUSE HE'S AT HIS LIMIT. That's wonderful, man. That is so wonderful.

Plus Tim is the heart of the Bat-Family again? This feels like someone actually went back to read these characters before writing it. I'm not saying everything is perfect of course, but these high marks are exceeding all my expectations. And I STOPPED reading comics because of how the beginning of this run destroyed any hope I had.

You guys have no idea how much I'm enjoying the few issues I've read. Besides the cussing (I remember after a bit they decided Tim was someone who used funny words instead of proper cusses), this feels like the Tim I know and love during the era I especially loved him.

Tim comparing himself to his predecessors? Tim not being a natural? A WRITER REMEMBERING THAT?? It's been so long since I've seen that! Most writers treat him like he was another prodigy when he wasn't. AND THIS GUY REMEMBERED THAT!

I shouldn't be so happy at just seeing Tim do Tim things, and serving his character purpose. BUT YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE A WRITER KNEW WHAT TIM WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE.

Only complaints I have is that Jason feels like a typical Bat-Family member, and not the sketchy outsider that he is. Making him so close makes his character more bland in my opinion. And Steph is--also generic af unless she's wacky quirky...which is a characterization I hate for her, because she started off so damn interesting, but they made her a freaking trope instead, which is such a disservice to her, but she barely does anything so far, so whatever I guess. Doesn't mean much.

--

This is the first honest thing I've seen that I hated.

No

Not this

This isn't the Bat-Family

This is a sitcom world the fandom wants to be the Bat-Family and some comply with

They're not a sitcom. The conflicts, and uniqueness of the characters is what makes things feel alive and well.

This stuff is cheap fanservice for the fanon demographic that doesn't buy comics to begin with.

Fanon doesn't belong in canon.

--

I mean sure Tim could be drawn smaller, the gag of him looking 12 when he's nearly 18 doesn't work when he's bigger than Damian who is 15 (and contrary to some bullshit comics isn't meant to be small. that was a random thing added for writers who aren't clever to write better humor. it actually contradicts things that were already established).

Don't see the big deal though for most of this.

Can't wait to find it, though. Oh boy.

This whole obsession with Zur Batman, is way over done though. So--I wouldn't be shocked if that was the problem, because my golly does that plot point not seem to be stopping--and it was there from the start and part of the reason why I didn't read it 'til now.

Good Tim tho, at least. So heehee, yey for that--I think--I guess.

Oh, well.

It let me peak at a pseudo-version of an AU I made up years ago. So that's pretty freaking cool.

Always a plus.

And redoing Red Robin story beats but better? Normally I'd hate references to Red Robin, 'cause that changed the perception of so many characters for the worst, but ayy, a bit of redemption isn't bad.

Man, just seeing simple stuff like Tim and Bruce being good ol' classic Batman and Robin warms my heart. It's been so long since Batman and Robin has acted like a proper classic Batman and Robin. It's dynamic that's been sorely missed by many.

OH, MY GOSH, WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO STINK SO BAD. THIS STUFF IS GREAT.

Like, DUDE, this is such a Tim thing for him to do!!

And he's showing emotion?? He's crying like how he does?? Because he's not a typical Bat-Family member who just angsts his way through?? THEY'RE MAKING HIM STAND-OUT AGAIN BY MAKING HIM, HIM??

WHY DID THE FIRST STORY HAVE TO SUCK SO BAD?? THIS IS GOOD SHIT.

Like this part is why I originally stopped reading, not because Bruce should think Tim is his soldier, and not his son, THE FREAKING OPPOSITE.

But because the original story has Bruce acting weird when unneeded, just to say this was so unneeded, and adding in all these stupid corny Bat-Family moments was so groan worthy.

This run started off with a story that was a total turn off for me.

To end up being a run that could've kept me enjoying DC, rather than running away from it from as far as I have.

Chip Zdarsky started off awful, but really, he ended up great.

And I've seen people complain about his run, and TRUST ME, there's stuff to complain about. But I have only ever seen the stuff worth complaining about, or stuff I WOULD complain about.

WHEN MOST OF THE RUN IS GOOD

At least when Tim is around.

Go figure.

Maybe I should've paid sole attention to how he wrote Tim and nothing else at the very least for that first story.

'Cause even in the first story, Tim was well-written--it's how cheap the rest of the story telling was in that first story that turned me off--and the weird knew about the movie plans that I am still fully judging harshly. (Love the new Superman film suit, though)

[billieonmars]

Carl Grimes x Male!reader

Jealousy

Summary: this is based off of the headcanon I did about Carl and Y/N being jealous in Alexandria.

Warnings: very brief mention of parents death, and one detailed kiss

Alexandria was safe. Y/N and Carl had never felt so safe since the prison and even then they could never be sure if they were truly safe. When they first entered the walls of Alexandria they were all suspicious. It was too good to be true; running water, electricity, and free mansions. After a few weeks they settled in. Things began to change little by little; people slept more, ate more, and therefore became happier. However, one thing never changed.

Y/N and Carl were always stuck at the hip. How could they separate when they've been together since everything started? When they were separated from everyone else they always ended up the only ones together. From the first camp outside Atlanta, to the farm, to the prison, now Alexandria, and everything in between.

It was well known information within the group that where you would find Carl, you would find Y/N. When they were hunkered down in the camp outside of Atlanta, their parents had to stop them from sleeping in the same tent just to keep them from giggling and whispering instead of actually sleeping. And when Carl was shot, Y/N was beside himself with fear. At first he cried and cried until there were no tears left. Then he held Carl's hand until the boy opened his eyes and reassured him that he was alive.

Nothing changed when they got their homes in Alexandria. After Y/N's parents died, it was a silent agreement that Y/N was a part of Carl, Rick, and Judith's little family. No words needed to be spoken when the two boys placed their bags of dirty, too big or small clothes in the same room. And no words were spoken about the fact that there was only one bed. No one even said anything when hand holding turned to kisses on foreheads, and then into quick pecks on the lips.

So, yes, everyone was well aware that Carl and Y/N were together, and that they had no intention of breaking up. Well, almost everyone knew or just didn't care.

When Jessie Anderson came to Rick and told him that Ron was excited to meet Carl and Y/N, they were both nervous. It was going to be their first time hanging out with other kids their age in a long time. Sure they had friends in the prison, but that all ended fairly quickly. For all they knew, Alexandria was permanent. They had all the supplies to keep people in and walls to keep walkers out.

Y/N was nervous around Ron when they first met, Carl was too. They weren't afraid of him; Y/N was sure either of them would be able to take him down if he tried anything. Ron just felt like a real teenager, one that you would've met in high school and would wonder if he was laughing at you behind your back. He felt like a popular kid thrown into an apocalypse. Y/N found the thought funny; popular kids, jocks, nerds, loners, in an apocalypse. How could they still form cliques when the world had ended?

He supposed he would've been a nerd. Even before the outbreak when he was only 10 or 11 years old he was always reading things like adventures, mysteries, or just stupid comedies. In his heart he felt like Carl would also be a nerd, but maybe a different type. He would play video games and be awkward around peers, he would read too, but only comics.

Then he met Enid and Mikey. He couldn't get a read on Mikey, the boy was kind of just there. But Enid, he could read. She acted like a loner; cold, few words, and just plain bitchy at times. He knew she was trying to put up an act of indifference; maybe trying to put herself out of the spotlight. What she didn't understand was that her actions made the spotlight bright up her entire being. But Y/N had a feeling that something wasn't right in her 'lonerness.' he couldn't place it but also didn't read much into it, after all she was also from the outside. He understood how she felt thrown into this happy-go-lucky town.

He didn't think much of her attitude until he looked at Carl. He was staring at Enid, not even trying to be inconspicuous. A spark of jealousy flared up inside Y/N's chest. It started burning bright with red and yellow flames. He didn't know why the flame of jealousy was ignited so quickly or why it burned so hot. Suddenly, Ron was speaking again.

"We can play video games. Or Mikey's dad has a pool table but he's a little strict about it."

Ron's question broke him from the jealousy filled stare he was sending to Enid. Y/N didn't care about what they did, as long as he stayed by Carl and wasn't expected to talk much. Carl was then looking away from Enid and seemed nervous trying to take it all in. Before Carl said anything he looked to Y/N who leaned just a little bit closer to his side.

"It's okay if you don't really want to do anything. You don't even need to talk. Hell, it took Enid three weeks to even say anything." Then suddenly that flare of jealousy returned as Carl's attention was brought to Enid once again.

"Let's play video games." Carl, thankfully, answered for both of them. Y/N didn't know if the influx of emotions would allow him to speak at all.

A controller was handed to Y/N but he gave it back, saying he would be fine just watching. It was the truth as after seeing the way Carl was looking at Enid, he didn't feel like doing much of anything. He didn't know how to feel, it was all so weird. Before that moment Y/N had never even considered the possibility of Carl leaving him for someone else. It was always just them and adults, no other teens. He didn't even want to start thinking about the fact that Enid was the first teenage girl (besides Beth) that they had seen. What if Carl had only dated him because there were no girls around?

He tried to think rationally as Carl, Ron, and Mikey smashed the buttons on their controllers. The look wasn't romantic; he knew what Carl looked like when he loved something. It was the look he got when he found a fully intact comic book, or a can of his favourite food after starving for 2 days. Or the look he gave Y/N when he would wake up snuggled into Carl's side.

No, it wasn't romantic but it was still a look of interest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Carl wouldn't leave him, not if it was the last thing he did. Carl loved him, he told him himself the night before. Everything would be alright. Without opening his eyes he leaned his head on Carl's shoulder and scooched a little closer. His thoughts were made up when Carl kissed his hair and continued playing his game, all while Enid looked at them from the bed.

The day after hanging out with Carl, Ron, Mikey, and Enid, was a little strange. First, Carl was asked to make a run. Y/N had no idea why they would do this as the people of Alexandria seemed to be hell-bent on keeping the kids safe. He hated when Carl went on runs because not only was he already worrying about Rick, he was now worrying about Carl. They were his family, and Judith's too. However, being from the outside, it was nothing new to the boys so Y/N sucked it up and didn't complain. After a hug, kiss, and promises of being safe, Carl was off with Rick and the others.

Second, once he watched the car drive off, Y/N went to go back to his shared room with Carl. His plans were interrupted by Carol.

"You're not wasting your day away in bed." Y/N was surprised when Carol even started talking to him. He didn't think that anyone besides Carl or Rick cared about what he did.

"I'm not, I'm enjoying my day in bed." He could hear the sass slip into his voice, but Carol just smiled.

"You can't just leave the house with Carl, you know. You need to find independence." Y/N rolled his eyes but turned back out the door anyways.

"What do you know?" He mumbled quietly to himself. Carol heard but only smiled; satisfied that he listened.

In the moment, he was annoyed. His boyfriend was gone and there was a pretty big chance that he wasn't coming back; it was too easy to be overrun by walkers. On top of that, it had been forever since he had his own bed. He felt as if he should be able to enjoy it for as long as he could; not every safe haven has lasted them. But looking back, he was glad. If he had stayed in bed his thoughts would have run with so many things he would have ended up crying himself hysterical.

He found himself wandering around Alexandria, looking at the gardens and kids playing in the streets. Eventually looking at the garden and the kids got boring and he started kicking a rock, watching as it skidded across the pavement almost like skipping a stone in water. The noise was satisfying; a pitter-patter of stone against stone. Before the dead-eating-men fiasco, Y/N would have found this boring. His mind was molded for video games, cartoons, and short, extreme bursts of serotonin. After the fiasco, life could be as simple as skipping a rock. To get those moments of happiness you have to work for it. You have to keep each other alive by working all day and rejoicing in the night with stomachs a quarter full (if you're lucky) and limbs unbitten.

The third weird thing that happened was a few hours after he wandered from the house. He had ended up not doing much; he climbed a tree for the hell of it, ate an apple from that same tree, and nearly fell asleep under the tree. Maybe he should have just stayed in bed, the almost-sleep would have been better. But then again he wouldn't have gotten that apple. And it was probably good for him to get some sunlight after being cooped up for the past few weeks. Y/N started to get antsy as Carl and the others should have been back at any second. He was nervous and excited; nervous to see if Carl and Rick came back, and excited to see them if they did.

He tried not to bother himself with 'ifs' as it didn't help. There was no point in saying 'if Carl came back' because he would; Carl promised. Y/N knew it was a childish way of thinking; in this world promises couldn't be kept just because they were said. You can promise to not get bitten by a walker, doesn't mean the walker cares before it chomps down on your flesh. It was because it came from Carl that Y/N disregarded rational thinking. Maybe he was love sick, maybe he was stupid.

It was the same 'ifs' that brought Ron to him, starting the strange interaction.

"Hi." Y/N looked up at him from under the tree, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Hey..." He was confused why Ron was talking to him. And then he was even more confused when he took a seat next to him.

"If the world never ended, what would you be doing right now?" Y/N was weirded out by the question. Why did it matter? He was 11 when it started, and it never ended. So here they were. There was no point of the 'if,' it just is what it is and now they have to deal with it. And that's what he told Ron.

"What does it matter? The world ended, there's no going back."

"I know, but I just wanted to get to know you a little better. You're not much of a talker, are you?" He smiled at him before his face turned to something Y/N couldn't place, almost like he came to a realization. "It's not because of Carl, is it? The reason you don't talk much?" Y/N was taken aback by the question. Did Ron really think Carl was abusing him or something?

"No, not at all. You don't even know us, how could you say that?" Ron could tell by the look on Y/N's face that he was appalled by what he asked.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. But just so you know, I'm here if you need to talk." And suddenly his hand was placed on Y/N's leg, scarily high above his knee. Y/N let Ron's hand fall when he stood up, uncomfortable with the situation. Ron stood too and they stared at each other for a moment.

Y/N couldn't react before an arm was wrapped around his shoulders and he was pulled into a hug. Being on the outside had given him reflexes for walkers, he was thankfully able to stop himself from reaching for his knife when he smelt the grime and sweat of his boyfriend.

"Carl-" He was only given time to breathe out his name before said boy's lips were on his. Y/N's arms came to wrap around Carl's torso while their lips stayed entwined. By the time Carl pulled away Y/N was flushed and gasping for air. It was by far the longest kiss Carl had ever given him in front of another person. Speaking of the other person, Ron was already gone when Y/N pulled himself from Carl's jealousy fueled embrace.

"What was that for!" Y/N was on the verge of giggles as the flush was replaced with a blush. He felt butterflies that he had missed so bad flutter around his stomach. The kiss made him feel as though they had just kissed for the first time ever. Those butterflies were an old friend of his from his early days crushing on Carl.

"I Don't know." He looked embarrassed and flushed under his sheriffs hat. "I'm sorry, I got jealous seeing Ron's hand on your leg." Y/N pulled Carl back into a hug, content in knowing that it wasn't just him that was getting jealous.

"It's okay. To be honest, yesterday I was feeling green about the way you were looking at Enid. I feel so stupid. I knew that you wouldn't do that to me but I couldn't help it." Another kiss was pressed against his hair.

"Yeah, I know you wouldn't do that to me either."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: 2493

[takaraphoenix]

Who do you think is the best dc parent out of the core dc members?Superman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Batman, Flash, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Hawkgirl

Preface: I fully skipped over the "core" part and answered for various carriers of the mantle. I need to learn how to read.

Clark!Superman is a great dad, I think, I am still salty they took Jon's childhood away from us because it would have been so good to see Clark actually raise Jon.

Jon!Superman is a total mom-type dad, I am absolutely living for him and Dami raising Lizzy together, I do not understand why they're forcing a new Diana daughter but I love the DamiJon of it so I will accept my ship crumbs and move on. xD

Theee only GL I know to be a father is Alan Scott and... from what I gather, he doesn't get to actually dad a lot? I think I only really read one comic where he got to interact with the twins? And one where him and Todd had a gay bonding moment in, I think, a DC Pride issue. So, can't really judge that.

I have yet to see Diana be a mom. Everything I read about Lizzy so far had her be parented more by Dami and Jon than by her actual mother, I never read about Lyta Trevor so I don't know what their relationship is like, and every time Diana and Clark get to have children, it either ends with them becoming parents, or she dies.

Arthur!Aquaman I can actually attest to being a good dad, on account of many runs and me actually reading his series. Still wish I'd get more content for him and my favorite Curry offspring, Marina, though.

And I think that Jackson!Aquaman could also be a great dad, he takes well to mentoring Andy and is a good big brother in that way, and I think that would also translate to him being a good parent (I still cling to the theory that the Futures' End Beyond timeline retconned Marina into being his daughter, instead of Arthur's, since she is now suddenly a black woman and Arthur and Mera are still very much white, but they didn't want to retcon Arthur and Mera into having a second daughter beside Andy, I guess, so they solved it by making Marina the daughter of the other Aquaman. Which, I also wish to see content for Jackson and Marina).

And I genuinely do not think there is a more loaded DC question than "Is Bruce Wayne a good parent?" kghafkldghfldöghaöfkldghöl

I think that, if you play fast and loose and elect which canons to fully ignore and which to accept, which is totally fair and valid, Bruce can be a good dad, but if you actually do take all main continuity canon into account, he's fucked up far too much to genuinely be called a good parent. But also, I think, in his case, it heavily depends on what kid we're talking about too, on top of what continuity/series we're electing to count.

Like, Jason fully got fucked over by his deal with dad!Bruce. I think things with Damian are rocky, at best. Tim, quite frankly, I think got the best deal in the dad!Bruce department? Cassandra... started off like Bruce did not give a damn (like, it was fully wild to me that Bruce adopted her when Barbara was far more parental to her than Bruce up to that point) but he came around. Dick is... there's just too much history, both good and bad, and I think that their relationship is too complicated to boil it down to "good dad" or "bad dad" for him. Duke, I have never-ever read about Bruce parenting him even though I keep seeing him claimed as Bruce's... foster or adopted or I do not know kid, still looking for what comic that is actually canon in, beyond WFA. I genuinely, truly believe the only kid who actually got a good dad in Bruce is Helena, in every comic I have read about them (and I specifically seek Helena content out, so I've read more about their dynamic than most others), and quite frankly I contribute most of this to Selina being a stabilizing presence in Bruce's life.

Other Batmen as parents:

Dick has proven repeatedly throughout the multiverse (and also in canon because that boy did parent Damian for a stretch) that he's a great dad. No complaints. 10/10, would let him raise more kids.

Damian is currently proving that he could be a good parent - but, much like Bruce, I think he needs a stabilizing presence (Jon) at his side. I do not think that he would make too good a parent in any other setting or on his own, but him and Jon raising Lizzy is working out beautifully.

I have yet to see Barry!Flash as a parent, it is so weird to me how ever-present his two grandchildren are but that Don and Dawn are kind of... not really... a thing. Though he did low-key parent Wally, so he gets points for that.

Now, Wally!Flash on the other hand? Good parent, so cute. Love his family.

Haven't gotten around to read Jay!Flash as a parent yet, know him and Jody got a mini-series but it's still on my to read list and I'm looking forward to it.

Martian Manhunter is, I think, a good parent, though I don't have too much to draw from.

And Ollie, I wholeheartedly think is a good dad, but also I am fully and exclusively basing that on Arrow the TV show because I absolutely noped out of Smallville when they made Ollie/Chloe a thing (because, unlike other people, I am capable of turning off the tv if a show gives me an Ollie ship I can't stand loool) and I'm not touching the comics.

For Black Canary, same answer as with Ollie; not touching the comics. Because this is not my ship and to see them parent would mean to see them parent together and, again, unlike other people I am actually capable of just avoiding things with ships I don't like.

I... have never seen Hawkgirl as a parent, but she's also not really a character I have interest or investment in so she is someone I only ever meet on the sidelines?

So, in conclusion, I do think that Clark is the best parent, because he is the best parent most consistently and most frequently - others either have a spotty record or didn't get to parent as often - though I think that Wally is a close second.

[kelsstars]

Now Or Never - Carl Grimes x Y/N (gender-neutral)

Warnings: SLOW BURN, smut (18+), receiving!y/n, receiving!carl, fingering, protected sex, loosing first times, angst (miscommunication), finding comfort, slight jealous!carl, slight jealous!y/n, swearing. All teenage characters are set to be 18-19, so a bit different than the original timeline.

Summary of the prologue: You and Carl have known each other since kindergarten. Yet after the whole world fell down in front of your eyes, the chances of meeting again would be slim to nothing. After 10~11 years of looking for a stable group of survivors, you found and now live comfortably in a place called Alexandria, with your friends Ron, Mikey and Enid. Until one day, when you sneak out, you come across two strangers from a group near your home and you happen to recognize a familiar face.

A/N: This will be one of my first fanfics that contains a first perspective Y/N gender neutral reader as I want to satisfy everyone with this! Feel free to send requests. :))

Words: idk but it’s beyond long. 😞

“Fuck..” You say as you look down at your leg. You were just ambushed by a zombie, barely getting away but luck is on your side today, as the walker got caught up on a trap you had previously placed some days before. Though, it did managed to rip your jeans a little, your breath quickens as you search for any scratch or bites. You were safe, but you never knew when you couldn’t.

‘I can’t do this, I need to get back inside. What if Ron finds out I went out?!’ You mentally told yourself.

Your friends in Alexandria were rather nice most of the times, but Ron had.. problems. His dad wasn’t the Dad Of The Year, nor would he be close to that title, so you believed it rubbed on Ron as years went on. You and Ron had always multiple fights about getting to explore outside the safety of the walls. Not only would he always bring up your traumatic upbringing up until Alexandria to make you stay inside, he would also comment that you would use it as an excuse to smoke cigarettes. Well, he wasn’t far off from the second argument, but you never actually smoke. Near the ‘safe zone’ of Alexandria, you would always light up a cigarette and leave it to burn on a empty tombstone. You don’t remember how long you had done it for, but you knew exactly why you did it. It was the grave of what you once were.

You reminisced of times when you went to school and you had to sit by your only friend that your memory refused to block. Carl Grimes. He was the sweetest boy since kindergarten until you were about 8 and he was 7, right before shit went down. You always wondered in the dead of night if he had lived as far as you did, and if he was dead, where was he buried. You wanted to be buried a long beside him, he was your first love after all, you two were inseparable, reading comic books every moment you had got in break, made friendships bracelets that you had eventually lost after 3 days because y’know how kids are, but your favorite time of all, making sleepovers at each others houses so you could stay up and watch the stars from his yard. It wasn’t his interest to begin with, you had always loved the stars and wanted to grow up as an astronaut, and when Carl had heard about such, he started to like them too because of you. You thought it was adorable and that was probably when you started to like him, but the day you were about to invite to your place for another sleepover, you saw him leaving school with his mom and another man, who you don’t remember well his face nor name, but you know that after he took Carl into his car, you never saw him again.

After the apocalypse started, you came running home as chaos was running right behind you. Cars crashing, people screaming and being eaten right in front of you, of course that can change someone for the worse. You arrived home with your dad immediately handing you a baggage with your stuff, food and water and you never looked back.

It would be nice to continue your inner dialogue and how you had lost your dad and future people as you watch the cigarette burn on the empty grave. But you hear voices not far from where you stood.

“Dad, where are you going? Wasn’t Alexandria that way?” A calm yet a slight raspy voice questions their parental figure, you figure he’s around Ron’s age since you have heard the teenagers in Alexandria voices change and go through changes.

‘Sigh’ - You hear. - “You have no idea, WE have NO idea these people are. They could be murderers for all I know, and my main mission is to keep everyone in the group at bay and in a safe place.” A much more deeper and scratchy voice coming behind you. You rushed to hide inside an open tree near the grave but the fallen leaves crunch under your steps, giving away your presence.

“That doesn’t answer my ques- Wait. Did you hear that?” You hear as the supposedly younger male clocks his gun. Welp, you fucked up this time.

You start praying to every god you can remember, even when you have never believed in such things, it’s not like you had the time to focus on religion after everything that has happened to you. But this was different, this is one the few times you had stumbled upon danger and unfortunately, you saw no way out unless a miracle happens.

“Carl, how many do you think there are hidden here?” Carl?! Huh. Ironic how you were thinking about your childhood friend and now you were getting hunted down by the person with the same name.

“I heard few footsteps, so I’d say a walker, I can handle it. Don’t worry.” The older figure, whose presumably his dad, gives a quick okay and you hear as he walks away and this supposed ‘Carl’ slowly approaches your hiding spot. You held your hands up to your mouth, hoping no breath or sound came out of your body.

“Pst pst psst..” You hear ‘Carl’ call out to you. How dare he?! But then again, he thinks you’re a walker and not a person, so being cat called should be least of your proble-

You look up to see a gun pointed right at your face outside the tree hole. For a few moments you can’t tell if you’re about to cry, scream or do anything. You’re just shocked.

“Who are you?” The male asks, obviously not in a friendly mood. It takes a few minutes to indulge and zone back into reality as you observe his body up and down. He has long brown hair, with a fringe that covers his right patched eye. Speaking of it, it seems he only had one baby blue eye, as his eyebrows furrowed, slight veins appear on his hands and he looks pretty wearing a sheriff’s hat. He had sweet little freckles that reminded you of someone you once loved and knew. Wait. You could not believe your own vision as you slowly piece together who the person in front of you might be.

“Carl?” You pause. “C-Carl Grimes?”

You watch as Carl’s eyes widen not breaking eye-contact, his face goes from shocked to an aggressive look once more, yet his voice sounds confused.

“How do you know my name?” His grasp on the gun seems to tighten.

“It’s me, Carl, Y/N (Y/L/N)! Remember us in school? We used to watch stars together before everything went to shit, do you not remember-“ You suddenly stay quiet.

The boy immediately lowers his gun, even tugging it back in his gun holder. You could tell he was about to cry because he stood there biting his lip with watery eyes. You hurriedly get up from your tree spot and hug him. Neither of you could not wrap your head around that either of you were alive.

Oh, how you wish you could kiss him and just break down on his sweet warms arms.

You break out of your thoughts as your hear Carl’s dad, Rick. It was nice to see a familiar face that reminded you of your old life, of course Rick was skeptical as to why you two were hugging, since he could not recognize you with everything that happened, but after a walk to Alexandria, where Rick’s group had already arrived, Rick seemed to have recognized you. There were many new people. You recognized a lot of their names, but for personal reasons. It made Carl amused to know you were involved in his life once again. And so were you! Having Carl communicate with your friends and his group bounding well with everyone in the community. Yet you have noticed that Enid seemed to get closer and closer to Carl, which set you off.

Presumably, from your calculations of days, 4 months had passed and your relationship with Carl had, unfortunately, rapidly declined. You would always have a quiet time every time you were paired up together in scavenger hunts, or even when the teenagers all met up to play games together. It broke your heart to know that for the first two weeks with him being back, you had catch up on everything you lived through all these years. And then it stopped. Or well, Carl stopped. He started to become more rude to you, every time you would show up, he would ignore you or lock himself up on his room. Him, Rick and Michonne had decided that the house you were staying at more comfortable for Carl’s young sister, Judith. You were happy at first but now it was hell to live through. As weeks went by, since Carl had stopped talking to you, it was the same routine of him running quickly to his room every single time he saw you.

It pissed you off.

Not only because your childhood friend and crush was avoiding you, but he still hung out with your other friends. Especially, Enid. You would always catch them reading comic books next to each other and even, listening to loud music right in Carl’s room, which happened to be right next to yours. You still liked Enid, she was your friend after all, but you never thought she would like Carl back because she would always talk about Ron to you. The day you confronted her about it around a month ago, and she admitted that she liked Carl and no longer shared feelings with Ron. If that wasn’t the tipping point of your jealousy, you don’t know what was.

In ‘revenge’, you started to hang out with Ron a lot more. But in reality, you didn’t even realize how much closer you had gotten, especially since you had a rocky friendship in the past. You were still a bit skeptical of his behavior but this was until one day you were playing checkers on your bed with Ron.

“Hey, Y/N, mind passing me that small butter knife over there?” Ron looked up from the game, clearly he must have been bored of not playing other games in your house because you had given most to Carl when he first settled in.

“Yeah, sure.” You lean over to reach your bed side table to grab the pen. “Is there a reason why?”

“Yeah, let’s write each others names on the big tree outside where you always hide away!” Ron seemed a bit too excited over this idea. He even turned his face away, from embarrassment of how enthusiastic he must have sounded to you.

You laugh at the idea. “Is this not what Michonne and Rick said they did so their love could live through forever?” You remembered when Daryl found out their initials on the tree they had carved their names on. You were always a fan of Daryl’s comments on Michonne and Rick’s relationship. In fact, he was not against it, but he still seemed against the idea of romantic affection being shown in front of him.

“Well, of course not. Pfft! We’re just friends…, right?” Ron sounded hopeful at the end. Too hopeful for your response to say contrary. You noted to yourself that his face seemed to turn red and redder the more you took to answer.

“Oh Ron, of course! You and your family first welcomed me with open arms and you have been one of my closest friends here.” You stopped as his face was giving the ‘continue’ look. “But-”

His face immediately went serious, but he started to put the checkers aside and slowly approach you as your back hit the headboard of you bed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’ve noticed how you’ve been approaching me and I can’t let you go. I’ve waited for this moment for years. These feelings didn’t disappear even when I was into Enid! Please, Y/N. Give me a chance to make you feel alright.” Ron says it so confidently, not even you have the words to say anything.

A brief silence occurs.

“I see the way you looked at Carl when you first arrived. I guessed immediately, he was the first love you talked about so much for the first few years you were here.” Your eyes widen. Shit, is this really the time to bring up your past right now?

“Ron, look. I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate your feelings, but is this the time to talk about him? You know more than anyone even I get disgusted by that nam-“

“LIES!” Ron suddenly screams at you. You flinched a little, it has been awhile since you had a fight so you forgot what he sounded like angry. “I SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HIM! DON’T TRY TO TRICK ME.” He threw away the butter knife under your bed.

He had a point. Your head filled with butterflies whenever you saw him smile or having fun. Especially when you were out on your runs, where he would do a little smile whenever he killed a zombie cleanly.

“Y/N! One. Chance.” Ron looked up at you, cooping your cheeks with his hands. He was going to kiss you. Your first kiss was going to be Ron. Just the thought of that happening made your stomach twist, never have you thought of Ron in a romantic way, and it surely wouldn’t change now!

The door burst opens mid inner dialogue and Ron leaning to kiss you. It was.. Carl?

If you didn’t remember seeing Carl that upset, you sure would remember now. He seemed more hungry for murder as he looked at you when he first found you in the tree, a while back. He immediately pounces on top of Ron, preparing to get into a physical fight with him. But why was Carl this mad?

“WHAT THE FUCK, GRIMES?! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” Ron tries to push Carl off of him but to no avail.

“NO ANDERSON, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! DON’T YOU HAVE ENID OR A DEAD WALKER OUTSIDE TO BE SMOOCHING?” Carl basically barks back at Ron, both holding each other by the collar.

“OH, YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT ENID? YOU BASICALLY COME HERE, STEAL MY EX AND THEN BREAK MY CRUSH’S HEART? YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE!”

“DON’T CONFUSE ME FOR YOUR STUPID FUCKING DAD. HE’S THE ASSHOLE, NOT ME.”

“YEAH? WELL, WHY DO YOU KEEP AVOIDING Y/N, HUH! YOU ACTED SO CARING AND THEN YOU JUST STOPPED. YOU BROKE THEIR HEART, BASICALLY PLAYING WITH THEIR FEELINGS. BUT THEN ACTING ALL SWEET TO MY GIR-“ Carl cuts him off before he continues spouting his thoughts.

“YOUR GIRL? YOU BROKE UP WITH HER! AND YOU KNOW DAMN WELL, WHY I AVOID Y/N, IT WAS YOU WHO TOLD ME IT WOULD MY WEIRD FEELINGS GO AWAY. THEY GOT STRONGER.” Carl and Ron kept going back and forth and-

Weird feelings? Wait.

“What?” You spoke out loud your own thoughts, the boys turn to look at you. Carl’s face turns slightly red as he realized what he just confessed. Ron looks confused and embarrassed.

“I… I need to talk to Carl. Now.” Your demeanor turns serious. This was it, you had your shot to talk through everything with Carl.

Now or never.

“But-“ You cut off Ron before he could finish.

“But nothing, Ron. Please, see your way out, and Carl, sit by me, this instant.”

Ron takes defeat as he walks out of the room, leaving with a death glare to Carl. Carl takes a minute to finally have the courage to sit by you. Finally, you can talk, face to face.

“Carl… Why have you been avoiding me? Be honest.” Your voice cracks mid sentence, you try to hide your tears from your so beloved who finally stood next to you.

“You want the full story?” You nod. “Alright.” He sighs before continuing.

“Ever since we started living together, it has been great, I got new friends, I got all my family from the outside and now all have their own houses and live comfortably. And especially-“ he carefully approached his hands near to yours. “I got to see and live in the same household as you.”

“I missed you so so much. And that day, it was one of the only days I have cried ever since this ordeal has begun. I cried when people died, but seeing that something from my old past life before this happened, gave me hope that there is good in this world, if you were still alive.” He scooted a little close to you, as he maintained eye contact. “I had realized as the small time we updated our lives and I got to know you again, that I fell for you. Once again.”

Your face feels itself warming up to his words, but you still had questions to ask.

“But why were you ignoring me, if you fell for me?”

“I…” His whole appearance changes. He starts twitching and crossing his legs. “I started feeling something weird happening to me. Like, I felt butterflies in my stomach when I saw you but, it was something else.”

“What was it?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I can’t.. say.” He looks away from you for the first time. “I went to Ron and Mickey about it, they said, I was ‘horny or excited’. I started having perverted thoughts about you and.. I felt bad because they both said that girls feel creeped out by guys who think that way.” You can see his ears turning red, he was blushing just from saying out his feelings. “They said that if I had hung out with Enid, since I didn’t like her nor does she like me, I could look at you normally, but it failed.”

It ticked you off that THAT was the reason he kept avoiding you. He got boners and thoughts from seeing you. It.. made sense, actually. He always left dinner as soon as he was done and going to his room right after. How did this not cross your mind?! He also did not know of Enid’s feelings and you were going to stay quiet about it.

“You know that, those are completely normal feelings, right?” You comment, and laugh right afterwards. It was cute to see him all bothered up because of you. “That is called feeling sexual attraction, it comes along when you first get romantic feelings. You can always NOT have sexual attraction even when you like someone, that’s valid but, it seems that isn’t your case.” You look up at him as he stares at you back, biting his lip.

“Does that mean that.. you don’t hate me for thinking of you in dirty ways?” He pauses as he tries to hide the fact that he is looking you up and down.

“Well, I’d be lying if I say I didn’t think of you the same way some times..” You also turn away from Carl, as you feel your face warm up.

You’re two touch-deprived and in need of each other’s love and affection teenagers. It seems that neither of your feelings left even when everything you knew turned upside down. Yet it made you feel happy that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Actually no. You NEEDED him, and he desperately NEEDED you back.

“Hey, Y/N… Do you mind if.. I kiss you?” He makes brief pauses in the middle catching his breath. Which makes you wonder what could possibly be making his breath so unsteady, and then you look down at his pants. Ah, understandable. His dick was about as ready to burst, he was probably gonna come to your touch as soon as you started making out.

And that’s exactly what you did. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he put his hand carefully around your waist. You could tell you both had waited for this moment for a long time. To be honest, you had actually predicted this moment, which made you get some condoms from Daryl on his last run. He definitely looked at you weirdly when you handed him the paper of stuff you needed.

Carl starts moving from your sloppy make out down to your neck, leaving marks all over. You were loving it. You asked if you should both take off your clothes, and he wasted no time. Carl basically rushed to take off your shirt ad you took off his. Once it was done, he was looking directly at your revealed chest and you looking at his. He didn’t a have a six pack, and thank the heavens for that. He was just the perfect amount of slight shown abs and it matched him so swell. His smile grew a bit bigger as he observed your chest and he started sucking and softly biting around your nipples.

Where the fuck did he learn that from?!

You scratch his back, deepening your nails on his pale skin. You wanted to make sure your mark stayed on his body forever. He made you lay down on your bed and Carl began kissing your torso until where his lips and your pants met. He looked up for approval to take them off. God, his pretty eyes staring with desire at only you, made you go crazy. You gave a nod of approval, and he wasted no time taking them off and throwing them away on the floor, along with your underwear. He observed your hole, and began to explore it by playing around with his fingers. You noticed that he still didn’t take off that grin off his face, you weren’t complaining, in fact, made you as horny as him probably.

“Y/N, do you mind if I enter my fin-“

“Just do it, please!” You didn’t even let him finish the sentence. You were so desperate for his touch, it was driving you mad.

His smile only got bigger to know that you were in need of him, and he inserted his fingers. You gasp, as his long slender fingers explored inside you. You felt your breath getting heavier and heavier as he inserted two more fingers. If you couldn’t handle his fingers, how would you handle whatever monster was hiding in his pants. He suddenly took them out, making you look at him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I want to do it so bad.” Before you could ask what was it he was talking about, he put his tongue inside you. You twitch in excitement and can’t help but let moans escape your mouth. He is making out with your hole and both parties are enjoying it, he is more than happy to just know that you’re his first and he is yours. Carl stops for a moment, that thought just made him even more trouble than ever. His dick was about to rip through his pants. As he begins to take his pants to revealing a hungry red/pinkish colored dick, basically pulsating to enter you, you remember of your condom.

“Wait, wait!” Carl looks confused at you. “I have a condom! We can’t get another Judith just yet!” You both giggle and he managed to open the condom. He rolls it over his cock , as you take a moment to indulge in the mystery in Carl’s pants. It looked perfect for you, a match made in hell. You gave a slight slime at Carl as he looks up at you, daringly.

“Are you sure it’ll fit?” Carl question as he positions his tip to your entrance.

“We’ll make it fit, Carl, we both desire it.” You gave a reassuring statement. It was enough to make Carl loose his control.

Carl thrust into you, and as you are prepared to moan, he starts making out with you to keep the noise down. He just wanted to keep the monas to himself. He lets you adjusts and when you have calmed down, he starts moving again. With every thrust, you feel both your bodies connecting more and more.

“Carl, f-faster!” You start begging.

“Fuck, Y/N… You’re about to crush me with your walls. Are you sure you can handle me?” You nod and he grabs your hips. “Alright then, you asked for it.”

His speed rapidly increased and so did the intensity of every thrust. His hands felt gentle on your skin, moving along with your body structure. You can feel his dick inside you, twitching and you hear him whimper your name, the faster he goes.

“I think I’m gonna c-“

“Me too, baby, me too…” You can tell he’s out of breath, but he still makes effort to make you feel good. You feel as one of his hands travels to where your entrance is and starts playing with it. You started whimpering and moaning Carl’s name, louder and louder. He is enjoying seeing you so vulnerable to him.

With few last thrusts, you came at the same time, luckily, the condom didn’t rip inside you, but when taking it out, it made a mess on Carl’s cock. He was still hard somehow, and he was embarrassed at it. As he was about to get up from your bed to not make a mess, you approach your head near his dick.

“Y/N, what are you doin- Nghh!” He quickly stops his sentence as you start licking and sucking his dripping cum out of his dick. He calmly places a hand on your head, and starts bopping up and down. You can tell he’s getting close with the way he pits his head back. Your speed gradually gets higher and when he’s about to to come in your mouth, Carl pushes your head down as deep in your throat as possible. You swallow what ‘surprise’ he left you, as he lays next to your body, catching his breath after your intense first time.

After cleaning up, he tucks you in your bed as he cuddles with you under your cozy blankets.

“So… Does this mean we get to finally be together?” Carl breaks your comfortable silent.

“Well of course, I don’t want anyone to ever take yours kisses or take your attention away from me!” You pretended to be actually upset over that matter, as you snuggled your head onto his chest.

He laughs and pulls you in closer. “I’ll never let that happen. Not Ron, not Mickey, definitely not Enid.”

“Not now or ever.��� He kisses your forehead as you both drift off to sleep.

[thewritetofreespeech]

MC + Cursed Toddler-fied Boys

prompt: All the boys suffer the same fate as Satan by reading ‘The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization’

Lucifer

You have to wonder why they kept so many cursed books around, just out like this. You would think, like any normal person, with this continuing to happen, that they would keep them locked up or something. But no. They just leave them out for anyone to find….

“I’m going to the meeting!” Lucifer yelled, stamping his foot. His face twist in a petulant frown. It would be rather adorable, if you hadn’t been arguing with him for the past 20 minutes

“Lucifer, we talked about this. You can’t go to the meeting. You need to stay here.”

“No! I wanna go to the meeting! It’s very important and everyone is counting on me!” His arms are wailing now as he stamped his foot more.

Of course, you couldn’t let him go to the first of the month meeting like this. His pride would be wounded beyond compare if anyone else saw him like this. But reasoning with him wasn’t working. You had to resort to more, unsavory tactic to win. “But the meeting was cancelled. Lord Diavolo called earlier to let me know.”

Lucifer stopped stamping his feet and waving his arms to look at you with a vacant expression you didn’t know he could muster. “Really?”

Gods help you. “Yes, really.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment before he beamed, “ok!” His mood instantly brightening. “I believe you, because [Y/N] would never lie to me.” ‘Forgive me Lucifer’ You think to yourself. “What are we gonna do instead then?”

“Why don’t we play a game instead to pass the time? Would you like that?”

“I know chess!” He exclaimed loudly. “Let’s play that.”

Of course, knowing and being good at it were two different things. In this state you were actually able to beat Lucifer several times. When he retuned to normal the day was ‘conveniently’ put away for sometime after.

Mammon

“Mammon. Please. I’ll just be gone for a minute.”

“Nooooooo!” Mammon wailed when you tried to get up again. Clinging to your waist tightly to keep you on the couch. “Onii-chan said you had to stay with me! Stay with me! Stay with me!”

After reading The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization, Mammon had, of course, reverted to the personality of a small child. His brother made fun of him, say ‘what’s the difference’, but Lucifer knew that this could be a disaster if he was set to wander free in this state across the Devildom. So he sat you to babysit him.

“Mammon, I promise I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get us some snacks for our movie.”

“Then let me come with you!” He whined, still clinging to you. In this state it seemed he had also taken on the personality of a baby duck. Imprinting on you and following you around everywhere you went in his room. He hadn’t left you alone for 5 seconds since he got this way. “I promise I’ll be good!”

“It’s not a question of you being good or bad Mammon-chan.” He liked to be called Mammon-chan right now. “It’s that you need to stay here. If someone sees you like this well…they could use it to tease you.”

“No…I don’t want to be teased anymore….” His voice was low, and sad. His bright eyes looking on the verge of tears, like kids do when they’re said, before he buried his face into your side. “Mammon-chan doesn’t want to be made fun of anymore. Mammon-chan also doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

You sigh. Unable to argue with him when he was like this. Your hand lifted to pet his head, which he seemed to appreciate, before you text Satan to bring you some snacks. He was always reliable and would do it for you.

Once the affects of the book had worn off, Mammon denied any of this happening. The mere mention would cause his face to turn red and yell about how, “that didn’t happen!” You almost wish you had taken a video of it to show him. Guess you would just have to keep Mammon-chan forever in your heart.

Levi

You went to Levi’s room after class to check on him in his….condition.

Since he did remote learning a lot of the time, being an otaku, it was pretty easy to keep him away from people so they did see him in the current state he was in. Apparently as a toddler he didn’t like being around people either.

So, you had set him up comfortably in his room before heading to class. Promising to come back that afternoon to be with him.

“Levi! I’m back! How are you—what are you doing?!?!”

“Playing with my toys.” Levi replied, with an obvious expression, as a sea of toys stretch out in front of him where he laid on his belly on the floor.

Your brain stopped. Completely at a loss for words. Levi was going to kill you when he returned to normal, because toddler-Levi, left unattended, had unboxed nearly all of his figurines from their packaging. Some of which were incredibly rare, and unable to get anymore.

“I just…I mean…Why?? Why would you do this??”

“They’re my toys.” Levi replied with a pout. Sitting up. “I can do what I want with them. What’s the point in having neat toys if you aren’t going to play with them??”

He did have a point there. But adult-Levi was going to be so mad!

“Do you want to play with me?” The demon asked with a hopeful expression. “You can even be blue Ruri-chan.” The limited edition, color swap Ruri-chan from 1999. He was gonna blow a gasket!

“Yeah. Ok.” But then again, when were you ever going to be able to touch them again.

As expected, Levi totally lost it when he came to his senses. Of course, there was no one to blame but himself, in the end, so he just had to be upset and mope alone. Thankfully, none of them were broken or beyond just out of their originally packaging. He bought them all clear showcase boxes for his ‘ruined’ figurines. Some of them he could rebuy to replace; which seemed to make him happy to have two.

Satan

It had been hours since the affects of the book had taken ahold of Satan. You were starting to wonder if they would ever wear off.

Lucifer had left in search of another book, one that might help speed the process along, and left his younger brother in your care. Of course you were happy to help, but you were getting nervous you would never see the old Satan again.

“[Y/N]-chan?” You look up from your phone, waiting for Lucifer to text you back, to see the blonde demon looking timidly at you from around the corner. 

“What is it Satan?”

“Would you….read to me?” His hands holding out the small children’s book he had some how found in the piles of books covering his room.

You smile softly at him. Your heart warmed by his request. “Of course,” you tell him, and the demon scampered over to sit on the bed beside you. His long legs and body tucked neatly into you as he waited for you to tell him the story of a little lost chicken and it’s journey back home. “[Y/N] tells the best stories!”

After 3 stories, he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, Satan was back to normal. He doesn’t answer your questions on where the children’s books had come from, but you spot the red & gold spines on his book shelves sometimes.

Asmo

There was no denying that Asmo was fascinated by art and all things beautiful. He went on and on about it any chance he got. So you shouldn’t have really been surprised when his toddlerfied self just wanted to draw all day.

“Look, look [Y/N]-chan! I finished another one!”

“That’s great Asmo.” You praise. Just like you had done with all the other ones he had handed to you. “Wow! This is really great! Is that a….chicken?”

“No, silly! That’s the white horse for our carriage when we get married!” The demon beamed, then shuffled over on his knees to instruct you on his picture properly. “That’s you, and that’s me. That’s the princess carriage that’s going to ride us off into the sunset. That’s Solomon and Simeon throwing flowers at us. That’s my brothers crying because I got to marry [Y/N]-chan and they didn’t.”

“You certainly seem to have all the parts here.” You praise. Giggling at his enthusiasm and picture.

“I want to have a perfect picture of when we get married. Because I love [Y/N]-chan! And we’re gonna get married and live happily ever after.” He replied, with certainty, with a smile.

“Well, I’ll be glad for that. Why don’t you draw me our perfect house for after we get married?” Asmo scampered off and did just that.

When Asmo came to, and back to his normal self, he took all the pictures he had drawn and framed them. Forcing his brothers and Solomon to take a tour of his mini-art gallery. The piece ‘Marriage of Two Bonded Souls’ was met with some controversy.

Beel

Beel, in his younger days, seemed to have boundless energy. Or you at least had to assume he did, because ever since he had read that stupid book he had been running around.

Lucifer had told you to take him outside. Irritated at hearing his large feet clump around the house, but trying not to show it since it wasn’t his fault. He even let you both take Cerberus outside to help run Beel out. It would be good for the pup too. Get some exercise, he said.

That had been sometime ago, and it seemed baby-Beel and Cerberus were an even match in energy. They had been running around, chasing each other, and play fighting in the back yard all afternoon. You were tired just watching them.

“Beel! Do you want to come in? I think it’s time for a break.”

Both Beel and Cerberus pop their heads up, in a comical and adorable unison head tilt, before jogging over to you. “Break time means snack time right?!”

You chuckle a little. Somethings never changed. “I brought some apple slices & peanut butter for you, for now. We can get you something bigger when we go inside.”

Beel grinned and sat in the grass with the container. “I like apple slices!”

“You do hn?” You don’t think you’ve seen Beel eat an actual fruit on its own. It was usually attached to, baked in, or covered in something, to get him to eat it.

“Yep! They’re crunchy and sweet. Just like you! Though, I guess you aren’t crunchy. Do you want one of my apple slices [Y/N]?”

You blush a little at Beel’s bright, unwavering expression. How could he look so innocent while still looking like that?

He finished his apple slices, minus one, before asking if he could go play again. You let him, but then all of a sudden he spotted playing with Cerberus and stood straight up. Seeming confused on how he got out here and what was going on. “Did I eat an apple? I haven’t had one since….do you think we have more in the kitchen?”

Belphie

It was honestly hard to tell if Belphie was under the spell of the forbidden book or not. He’d been asleep for most of the time; which was not uncommon for him. Then he would wake up and whine a little about something; again, not uncommon for him. Then he would take another nap.

You had figure out that he was still under it’s spell by the requests he was making when he woke up. Juice boxes. More plushies. His ‘blankie’. Eventually it would run its course though, and Belphie would be back to his own sleepy eyed, grown up self. “[Y/N]?”

You walk over to the bed when the demon called your name. The boy half sitting up, but still tucked under his covers. “What is it Belphie?”

“I can’t sleep.” He stated. Which seemed ridiculous since he had been sleeping most of the day. “I miss Lilli. And Be-be. Can you sleep with me?”

You blink at little at the request. You supposed it made since. Kids often wanted someone to sleep with them, so they didn’t have bad dreams or could keep them safe. Maybe that’s why he had been sleeping so much. Because he hadn’t been sleeping well, just sleep.

“Sure Belphie. I’ll lay down with you.” The demon smiled softly, sleepy, before he scooted over to give you some space to lay next to him.

He slept for a while this last time. Clinging onto you in his sleep, with a soft smile on his face. When he woke up, it seemed he was back to normal. “Gosh [Y/N]. If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to trick me with that lame book.”

[midnightstar-90]

Live Laugh Love~ Georgie Cooper x Reader

A/N: This is actually the 4th part, but I forgot to post it on tumblr. Hope you enjoy.

Summary: Sheldon refuses to eat solid food after a choking scare.

My Masterlist | My Taglist

A Therapist, A Comic Book, and A Breakfast Sausage

Y/N's POV

After my parents died and George's near-death experience you would think that this family would be tired of scaring me, but now, let me tell you why.

Missy, Sheldon, and I were sitting at the table eating our breakfast that Mary made. Georgie was at the counter putting jelly on his toast. Mary starts to rush us, so that we're not late for school.

Sheldon started choking on his breakfast, but Missy took it as Sheldon making faces. I look up, and my eyes widen like a deer in headlights. "Missy, he's not making faces on purpose. He's choking," I say scared. Mary hears me and rushes over to Sheldon.

Georgie continues to jelly his toast, and I run to get George. I quickly hear Georgie say, "I wish she would run that quick when I need her." I roll my eyes and keep going.

George makes it to the table and tries to smack the sausage out of Sheldon's mouth. Missy yells out, "Sheldon's gonna die! Sheldon's gonna die!" I knew she was scared, so I didn't say anything. What I did see was Georgie continuing to eat, while his brother was choking. I looked at my best friend and glared. He just shrugged his shoulders in response.

I turn back around to see George has flipped Sheldon upside down and was trying to shake it out of him. Mary calls 9-1-1 and I remember something I learned in Health class. "George, Heimlich!" I yell out just before Mary.

George goes for the Heimlich, and Sheldon spits out the sausage. I saw Sheldon look at something before he spits out his food. I looked and there goes Georgie licking his jelly knife.

Mary is quick to see if her son is okay. He says, "you have to... throw away... that jelly!" Georgie just looks at him, and I look at Georgie.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At School

I close my locker, which is right next to Georgie's. "I should have shoved that knife down your throat," I say as we start to walk to class. "Why, what did I do?" I scoff and side-eye the boy. "Your brother was on the verge of death, and you just sit there eating toast" "It's not like I could have done anything," he says casually. I walk off angry.

We make it to class on time. We sat down and our teacher started telling us about the canned food drive. When Sheldon walked in, she stopped her talk with us to see why Sheldon was late. She read the note Mary gave to Sheldon and was immediately heartbroken. "You poor thing, you had a medical emergency?" The teacher asked the 9-year-old.

"How come the teacher has more sympathy for your brother than you do?" I sarcastically ask. Georgie just shrugs again. I turn back in my seat to face the front with a 'humph'.

Sheldon explains to the teacher that he choked on a sausage. The students start laughing at Sheldon. I stand up angry, "You better shut it, before I shove a sausage down your throat!"

Georgie looks at me scared. He should be scared. Just because I'm a girl does not mean I don't know how to defend myself.

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Me and Georgie were at lunch. I look over to see if Sheldon was okay. He was just staring at his sandwich. "Why are you staring at Sheldon?" Georgie asks as I get up. I start heading for Sheldon as I say back, "because I care about him." Georgie just goes back to eating.

I walk over to Sheldon and Tam. "Hey Sheldon, aren't you gonna eat your food?" I say worried. "No, I'm not hungry," Sheldon says looking down. "I offered him my soup," Tam says.

I wonder what's going on. All I know is this Tam kid is freaking me out. Ever since I met the kid, every time I come near him he gives me googly eyes.

"Well, if you want, one of the seniors bought me a smoothie," I offer the worried child. "Is it organic," Sheldon asks. "I think so. He got it from that new smoothie place," I say nodding my head. "Sure." Hearing those words made me happy. I went to grab the smoothie and then gave it to him. I went back over to Georgie with a smile.

Sheldon's POV

"Dang, she shares food and she's hot. You got one hot friend," Tam says watching the girl who's like my sister walk away. I sip the smoothie before saying, "one, she's my brother's best friend, and two, she's like my sister." Tam looks disappointed, but I just finish the smoothie.

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Y/N's POV

Dinner

We were all sat down for dinner when Meemaw starts talking about Mr. Rosenbloom. "You know that Mr. Rosenbloom with the furniture store over by the steakhouse?" Connie asks Mary. Mary tells her mother that she doesn't know. Connie tries to remind Mary by calling the man a 'Hebrew fella with the comb-over'.

Mary corrects her mother, but Meemaw didn't really care. George just drinks his beer, while we ate our food.

Meemaw tells us that Mr. Rosenbloom asked her to dinner. My ears perk up and I say, "awe Meemaw, that's great." Mary asked her if she was gonna say yes, but Meemaw makes an inappropriate comment. "Okay Meemaw, I see you!" I say cheering her on.

Mary corrects both of us. Meemaw defends with, "What? I said 'dessert'." She turns to us and says, "I figured from the cheering that Y/N knew what I meant, but did you kids know that I was talking about sex?"

I knew Georgie knew. But Sheldon gives a confused face then says "no".

Mary notices that Sheldon wasn't eating. "Why aren't you eating?" Mary says. Sheldon tells his mother that he's scared to eat. George thought it was because of the food touching, but Sheldon says he's afraid he'll choke again.

Meemaw didn't know that Sheldon choked on a sausage. Me and Georgie explain our morning to her. "Sheldon almost died this morning," I started. "Dad was shaking him upside down like a ketchup bottle," Georgie followed.

Mary continues to try to get him to eat, but Sheldon doesn't budge. "Dibs on the tater tots," Georgie says earning a smack on the arm from me. "What? you want some." I roll my eyes continuing to eat.

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The next day was the same way. Sheldon didn't want to eat, so Georgie stole his food. I look to Meemaw and say, "I offered him a smoothie yesterday and he drank it just fine." Connie gets an idea and offers up to blend up his food. She leaves to go blend his food, and I give Sheldon a smile and a thumbs up.

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Georgie and I were finishing up getting ready for school. I was brushing my teeth, and Georgie was checking out his hair. "Are you still not talking to me? It's been almost a week. Speaking of which, where have you been. Except for practice, home, and school, I don't see you anywhere," Georgie says turning to me.

I spit the toothpaste out, rinse my mouth, and then turn to the boy. I fix one of his hairs and walk off. Even mad, I still care for the boy.

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What Georgie didn't know about me was that ever since before my parents died I loved superheroes. Their powers and backstories always amazed me. When I learned to read, I asked Mary and George for a comic. Now, every month, Mary and George give me $5 to pick out comics.

I was sat in the back corner of the comic store. I was a usual customer, so the owners would always tell me when there are new installments. I like the Avengers, a lot of them have a backstory similar to mine, like Spider-man or Ironman.

The bell to the door rings, and I see a certain little boy walk in. 'Isn't he supposed to be at therapy? Since when does Sheldon like comics?' I don't interact with him, I just watch.

He wants an X-men comic. Then I notice Tam, which I don't remember him coming in. They have a conversation until Sheldon keeps walking and runs into me.

I give him a very suspicious-looking look. "Aren't you supposed to be in therapy?" I ask with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, but I have to find out what happens in X-men #137." I laugh and show him where it is.

"Listen, I've had my problems. I've been to therapy. I know things can be scary, but we have to learn to face our fears. Your parents must be worried. You can't run from things you don't like," I try my best to help him. "Here let me show you something."

I take Sheldon to my corner in the back, and I show him my comics. "I read these comics because they remind me of me and my fears. They help me, and they could possibly help you too." I say before seeing Tam, "Tam! here I'll show you." I invite Tam to read with us.

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Georgie's POV

Missy, Meemaw, and I all decided to get a blizzard from Dairy Queen. We started talking. "Meemaw, are you ever gonna have any more babies?" Missy asked. Meemaw exclaims, "Good Lord, no!" "She's too old to have any more babies," I say.

Meemaw tells us, "Don't have to have 'em. You live long enough, your hair and your teeth start falling out, you start wetting the bed, you get to be one." I laugh and say, "haha, that's funny. We're gonna have to put a diaper on you." "You won't be laughing when you're doing it," she says, "I might be." We all laugh.

I continue to eat my blizzard when Missy asks Meemaw who's smarter besides Sheldon and Y/N. We argue a bit about it, but Meemaw says it's not about them.

"Yeah right, everything is always about Sheldon. Y/N won't talk to me, because Sheldon forgot to chew," I say, sad because I miss my best friend. "Yeah, sometimes it's like we don't exist."

Meemaw looks at us and says, "I guess Sheldon does get most of the attention. Maybe that's a good thing. If it weren't for him your parents would be on your ass all the time. And Georgie, don't you think that maybe, Y/N was scared because she already lost two of the most important people in her life, and almost another. That girl has been part of our family for years, and no matter who it is, she will still be scared to lose another family member."

"Yeah. I guess I never thought about it that way before," I say thinking about how our lives could be different without Sheldon. I also never gave Y/N's emotions about the incident much thought.

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Y/N's POV

I guess what I said helped Sheldon because he ate that piece of licorice-like a boss.

Tam, Sheldon, and I were walking home. We see police officers at our house. Tam dips, but not before yelling at me, "Call me, beautiful!" I cringe and walk home.

We make it into the house, and Sheldon is immediately yelled at. Mary thanks me for bringing him home, but I tell her that that is what family does. She smiles and I go to talk to Georgie.

"Hey," I call out knocking on his open door. "You're talking to me now?" Georgie asks putting away his magazine. "Well, I'm in a good mood. Sheldon faced his fear of chewing, partly because of me," I say giving myself a pat on the back.

"Well, I'm happy for you. And I know before I didn't really pay attention to your feelings, but I want you to know I'm sorry." Georgie hugs me and I hug him back. "Sheldon and I stopped by DQ for a blizzard, but I couldn't finish mine. You want it?" "Sweet! I get my Best Friend back and another blizzard."

I laugh and start to head out. "Good night," is all I hear before entering my room.

[keijislove]

Can i request #2 and 3 from the prompt list with Harry x Reader please but make it a happy ending? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi anon, omg this was so much fun to write!!! I love Harry and feel that there is not much Harry x reader content out there, so here you go! Hope you like it 😊

‘And then they lived happily ever after!’ Cho finished reading as the girls around her squealed in excitement.

You merely snorted.

‘Why do all of your books have sappy endings?’ you questioned Cho as she looked at you incredulously.

‘Well, its fun to read.’ Cho shrugged. ‘If you were in Ravenclaw, you could be reading diverse romances instead of those stupid muggle books you like so much. For example, what’s this you’re reading?’

She snatched your book and looked at the words you’d been reading.

‘Real love is rare but fake words and promises are everywhere.’ She read out before looking at you. ‘See, this is why you feel so lonely, Y/N. if you’re gonna be reading miserable books like that, then I can’t blame you for being droopy most of the time.’

‘It’s not miserable, Cho.’ You contradicted. ‘It’s a little something called reality.’

Cho snorted. ‘Whatever you say.’

‘Besides, I’m not always lonely.’ You continued. ‘I have Hermione and Ron... and Harry too.’

‘And Harry too!’ Cho mocked. ‘Blimey, Y/N I forgot to ask. How’s things between you two?’

At that you looked down. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could almost feel her roll her eyes.

‘You’re lovesick, darling.’ Cho explained. ‘You get this weird glow on your face when you talk about him and your eyes form hearts like in those muggle comics you read. Also, when he’s around, you blush like a tomato. Tell me how this is incorrect?’

You sighed. ‘None of your business, Cho Chang. So what if I like him? I’m probably the 100th girl who does. He has a pretty wide collection of choices, you know. Take Ginny for example. She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, popular, outgoing AND she is sweet. I’m a loner, too sarcastic to have too many friends, and it’s not like I can help it anyway. He’d never like me.’

‘Sweetie, what is there not to like in you?’ Cho asked worriedly.

It was one of the many reasons you liked her, she always paid attention to your moods and constantly asked if you were alright.

‘Y’know what Cho, let’s leave it.’ You muttered. ‘I promised Ron I’d help him with his essay anyway. He’s probably eating in the common room. Bye.’

You gave a nod and walked off, but you could feel Cho’s eyes watching you thoughtfully.

----------------

As you walked into the common room, a chorus of noises greeted you.

‘Fine, I’ll give you five galleons I can.’ Harry was saying.

‘Alright mate, whatever you say.’ Said Ron.

‘Five galleons you can do what?’ you questioned, walking up to them.

Harry immediately coughed nervously. ‘Ahem, Y/N! Hi! Ron here was betting I couldn’t, er, sneak down to the kitchens.’

‘If you know Fred and George, doesn’t seem impossible.’ You said in amusement.

‘Someone summon us?’ a voice called behind you as you turned to see Fred standing there.

‘Oh, yeah.’ You spoke. ‘Ron here thinks Harry can’t sneak down to the kitchens, so he put five galleons on that. I was just explaining how anybody who knew you two could probably sneak off to Mars unnoticed.’

‘We are honoured.’ George bowed to you. ‘But Ron, mate, weren’t you betting that Harry couldn’t ask o-’

‘NO, I WASN’T!’ Ron bellowed, causing you to miss what George said.

George’s expression immediately changed.

‘Harry couldn’t ask what?’ you asked.

‘The house elves to make him some food.’ Fred casually spoke.

You narrowly looked at him.

‘Boys.’ You finally muttered, going upstairs.

--------------------------

You were trying to wrench your bag out of the spot it had decided to get caught in, when a voice startled you.

‘Here, let me help.’

You turned around to see none other than the Chosen One himself.

‘Oh, thanks.’ You said nervously as Harry yanked the bag out of the door.

You grabbed it and turned to leave.

‘Er, Y/N?’ you heard Harry ask.

‘Yeah?’

‘I was wondering if, um, you’d... y-you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me?’ Harry asked.

Your eyes grew wide. ‘Are you asking me out? Like on a date?’

‘Erm, yes.’ He said.

‘Oh.’ You managed to squeak. ‘Oh, Oh! Um, y-yeah, alright, s-sure!’

He flashed you one of his stupidly adorable grins. ‘Brilliant!

----------------------

You and Harry had been dating for a few weeks now.

But something was terribly wrong.

Harry had started acting horribly distant, sometimes ignoring you or trying to walk past you in the corridors.

You were on your way to the common room. wondering whatever you could have done to upset him, when his voice caught you before you entered.

‘Ron, I can’t do this anymore.’ He spoke. ‘I know I agreed to your dare that I couldn’t ask Y/N out, but I can’t do this. I’ll give you your galleons, don’t worry.’

‘Well, alright mate.’ You heard Ron say. ‘But I thought you were happy-’

‘I’m not.’

That was enough for you to choke a sob and run off to the deserted Quidditch Pitch.

So that’s what it was.

A dare.

Harry didn’t want to be with you, heck he didn’t even enjoy it.

You kicked away stones in anger, remembering Cho’s voice.

Real love is rare but fake words and promises are everywhere.

That was exactly what the past few weeks were.

Fake love, fake words, fake smiles, fake promises.

It was all fake.

Your thoughts were cut short, as a pair of shoes came skipping by.

‘Oh.’ You heard a familiar voice.

No, go away, please. You thought. I hate you, don’t come near me.

‘Hey, love.’ Harry grinned.

You tried not to gag. ‘Why’re you calling me that?’

He frowned. ‘D-do you not l-like it?’

‘No.’ you coldly responded. ‘You’re here to break up, aren’t you?’

‘What how did you-’ Harry began.

'Is this what this whole relationship was to you? A bloody dare?’ you asked through your tears.

Harry’s eyes widened. ‘You heard...?’

‘Yes, I heard.’ You said. ‘Harry Potter, don’t you ever dare speak to me again.’

With that, you stalked off.

------------------------

Even though you’d convinced yourself you’d never speak to him, you couldn’t help but worry about Harry.

The third task was near, and you were wondering if he’d make it.

He’s made it this far, hasn’t he? You thought. He’ll manage, stop thinking about him.

Sitting in the arena, waiting for him to emerge out of the maze, you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘Cho... if he’s back, just let me know.’ You informed the black-haired Ravenclaw, turning to leave.

Just as you turned, a cheer erupted as you whipped around to see Harry carrying something and lying face-front on the ground.

Everyone was cheering, but you squinted at what he was carrying, trying to make out what it was.

When you focused for long enough, your hands flew to your mouth as you let out a blood-curdling scream.

Cedric Diggory’s body.

And it wasn’t moving.

-----------------------

‘Is he... can I see him?’ you asked Madame Pomphrey.

‘Well, I’m sure he’s asleep, dear.’ She answered, frowning. ‘But in you go.’

You thanked her and went inside.

Harry was not sleeping, but he looked terrible.

‘Oh, Harry.’ You sighed, walking to him.

Still not looking at you, he spoke. ‘You still hate me.’

‘No, I-’ you began. ‘I... I don’t. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.’

‘I should be the one apologising.’ He said quietly.

You sighed. ‘I’ll be late for Charms... see you soon, Harry.’

You bent down to place a kiss on his cheek.

At that moment, he turned his head abruptly, causing your lips to collide.

Gasping, you pulled back.

Entire body trembling with giddiness, you walked to your class.

--------------------

After your little ‘encounter’, Harry went back to ignoring you.

You were sick of it, and one day, while he was returning from Hagrid’s cabin, you cornered him.

‘You can’t hide forever, you know.’ You spoke seriously, arms crossed over your chest.

He didn’t look at you.

Sighing, you stepped forward. ‘We need to talk.’

His head snapped up to meet your eyes.

‘There’s nothing to talk about. I kissed you and you pulled away. End of story.’ He casually said.

‘No, it’s not the end of story.’ You snapped. ‘How could you even, first you fake-date me and then this, I mean for Merlin’s sake Harry, a kiss is supposed to mean something and I-’

‘What makes you think it didn’t mean anything?’ he asked softly.

You gaped at him. ‘You said... you dated me because of a dare and then-’

‘Oh.’ He interrupted. ‘Oh. That’s why you were upset. Oh my god, Y/N, you totally misunderstood me. I... was talking to Ron because I felt that I wasn’t being fair to you... I like you, Y/N. I truly do, and I wanted to date you as well, but I was worried what you’d think when I’d explained it was a dare! And th-then I came to tell you all this, but you seemed so sad, I thought you hated me. Don’t ever think like that, Y/N. That kiss meant everything it was supposed to.’

You remained silent.

Harry blushed and awkwardly scratched his neck. ‘Uhm... and I-I’d like to try that again...’

Your eyes widened as you turned red.

Swallowing your nerves, you leaned forward as he mirrored your actions and met you halfway.

And this time, neither of you pulled back.

[to-hell-and-beyond]

“The Villainess Knight and His Princess”

Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x Reader

Requested: Yes : No

Request: I love your Hawk/Eli imagines sm hi!!! Also random request I thought of: imagine Hawk coming to you after a fight and you doctor his wounds and such and just keeps flirting which you like play off but then he reveals he’s dead serious about crushing on the reader?? You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to, but just an idea lol 😂😂😂 ok bye! Thank you for being an awesome writer!-Anon

Sorry this took soooo long! I’ve been having a couple of hard weeks so I’ve been trying my hardest to come out with content.

Summary: Over the past few months your old aquanince has come to you asking for you to fix his wounds The whole time he continues to shamelessly flirt with you, what happens if he goes a little to far?

Words: 1043

You sat on your bed as you read through your favorite book. You’ve read it about 100 times now, but it always gave you this feeling of joy inside whenever you read it. It was about a Villiness Knight who is later found out to be a pheasant boy that got picked on in his village. The princess decides that she is going to find this Villiness Knight and put an end to his villiness crimes, but instead she falls in love. It’s a story about love and forgiveness.

You smiled to yourself as you got to your favorite part. The Princess and the Villainess Knight were getting to know each other by the campfire. Your thoughts were interrupted though, by the sound of something heavy hitting your window. You jumped out of your bed wondering what you should do. Should you run and go tell your parents? Should you open the window? The universe so graciously didn’t let you finish these thoughts as the window opened to reveal Hawk.

“H-hey Y/n.” He said as he coughed. You looked at him to see he had cuts and bruises all over his arms and legs. He had a hand on his abdomen and looked like he had just been chased by a bunch of killer dogs. You rushed to help him inside and helped pull his body towards your bathroom sink. You sat him on the counter as you looked through your cabinets for a first aid kit.

The two of you had been...friends before he became Hawk. Well, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends, more like acquaintances. You didn't like the people at your school, all there were rich girls and obnoxious boys. So you would find yourself sitting at Eli and Demitri’s table. You never talked, you would just read as they talked to each other about the newest comic. After his transformation to Hawk he had begun to flirt with you all the time. You didn’t think anything of it then, and you still don’t.

“What happened to you this time?” You asked. This wasn’t the first time the all famous Mohawk boy barged into your room and asked you to help stitch him up. You never asked what really happened, not caring about the Karte War that was happening in your town. But ever since he had made amends with Demitri you’ve been curious.

“Thought maybe if I ruff myself up a bit you would kiss me better.” You glared at him, you alway hated when he came inside your home and started to flirt. It was embarrassing, and well you knew it was all just a joke...and you didn’t want it to be.

“In your dreams. Now this is going to sting so don't yell, my parents are downstairs.” You’ve learned from the numerous times he has come here, that he screams when you try to disinfect his cuts. It’s almost gotten you caught a few times.

“They're all done.” He smiled at you as you began to clean up the counter. 

“You're my hero now.” He winked at you as you sighed. Your heart is always  beating fast every time he says one of his flirtatious lines. But at the same time you knew he said the exact same thing to every girl out there.

“Can you kiss me all better Doc?” He asked as your hand on the towel beside you formed into a fist. How can he just say things like that? Doesn't he know that you don't like it? That you wish you were the only one he said these kinds of stuff to? Was he that much of an idiot?

“Y/n?” He asked softly as he saw your frown and your heavy heart. He never had wanted to hurt you. He really, really liked you more as friends and he wanted the both of you to be together. He never knew you didn’t like his flirting.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.” You both sat in silence, waiting for the other to restart the conversation.

“I really like you Y/n, as more than a friend. I know that you think that I'm just being a flirty idiot but I really like you. I'm dead serious, I want to be with you.” You looked at him but kept your mouth shut. What if he was lying to make you feel better?

“I’m not lying Y/n, I-I think I love you.” You felt tears in your eyes as your breathing softened. He really was being serious. He actually really wanted to be with you! All this time you thought he was just being a jerk, he actually cared for you a lot.

“My parents are probably going to come up and check one me soon...How does 4 at that Taco place down the street on Saturday sound?” You asked as helped him off the counter.

“Like a dream come true Babe.” He winked at you again and you laughed. You helped him walk all the way towards your window.

“Are you sure you're okay? I can sneak you to the front door, it would be easier for you especially because of the cuts you have.” You asked in a worried tone.

“Yah I’m sure. If this taco date works out I'll have to use the window more often.” You blushed furiously as he laughed at your expression. You lightly slapped his chest as he continued to laugh.

“See you at 4.” He gave a quick salute as he began to climb all the way down your window. You watched until he got on his bike and drove off. You wanted to make sure that he was going to be alright. You actually had a chance with him now and you didn’t want to blow it.

As the sound of a motorcycle drove off, you walked towards your bed. You had made sure that there was no blood left on your bathroom counter before relaxing. You still didn’t want your parents finding out. You grabbed your book and flipped to the page you were last on and began to read again. It had looked to see that the Princess and the Villainess Knight had come tougher atlas, in true harmony.

[suneatersupportsquad]

red handed; colby brock

request:  im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons​

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.” 

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

.x

[butwhyduh]

Sickening

You looked at the blood in your sink. It was becoming sticky and rust colored at the edge. It probably wasn’t a lot but it certainly looked like it. The fact that you weren’t exactly sure who’s it was made you feel sick. You closed your eyes and grabbed some towels to clean it.

After spraying your sink heavily with antiseptic, you scrubbed your hands clean and left the room. Your boyfriend laid out on the couch. Normally you found it a little funny the way his long body would hang over the arm. Now you were worried.

“Jason,” you asked. What is going on? He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“I got in a fight. It’s no big deal. You know how assholes in Gotham are,” he said. As if to emphasize his point, the sound of police sirens sounded close by. Yeah, this place was rough.

And Jason certainly looked like he had recently been in a fight. His knuckles were red and raw. He had a bruise blooming on his forearm. And his grey shirt had little specks of black that you couldn’t help but wonder was blood.

“Why are you always covered in bruises? Is that the assholes in Gotham?” You asked, sitting on the coffee table.

“You could say that,” he muttered under his breath. “I guess people just want to punch me. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“You need a bath,” you said. “I’ll throw your clothing in the wash.”

“I’m fine-“

“You’re covered in blood and I’m not sure it’s yours,” you said. Jason slowly rose from the couch and you see that he favored one shoulder over the other one when pushing up. Probably also bruised. Or worse.

He all but stumbled into the bathroom. You started a hot bath. Your small apartment didn’t have a shower attachment. Jason roughly pushed off his boots before grimacing as he pulled off his shirt and threw it in your tiny washing machine. That one was a gift from him that somehow your landlord was totally cool with despite being a complete ass.

His shoulder had nasty red and purple splotches of bruises and there was a small bloody area. He shoved his belt open and pushed off his pants and socks. Jason slid into the tub. He groaned. His long leg had his knees sticking out of the water almost comically.

You bent down and sat on the old tile floor. Someone, probably in the 1920s or something, had out tiny little white hexagon tiles all over the floor next to the claw foot tub. You grabbed a cup and started pouring water on Jason’s chest. He hissed before relaxing. Steam from the tub rose in the cold room.

“I worry about you. Worry what you’re doing. Why you won’t tell me what you’re doing. That you’re in trouble or something. Do you owe a gang money or something? Who hit you?” You asked softly. Deathstroke, Jason thought but he certainly couldn’t tell you that. His hard look soften a little.

“I don’t owe a gang money. Nothin like that,” he said. He couldn’t help but look at your face. You were too pretty, too innocent, too good for his world. He didn’t want you in this. Hell, he shouldn’t have talked to you in the first place because no one lasted long in his life. Jason knew that taking you on a date had been selfish. And everything after that was him being too weak to do the right damn thing.

You took the cup and poured water over his hair. The slight pink color had you grimacing. You didn’t push your questions. It was something Jason loved about you. He was a hard nut to crack and usually what worked best was time and space.

You grabbed your shampoo rather than Jason’s to wash his hair. There was no way that you were going to use his ‘mountain bear scented 4 in one shampoo, conditioner, body wash, motor oil’ when trying to pamper him.

You’d never washed his hair before. He’d definitely never let anyone close to washing him. Shower sex, great. But never something non-sexual and intimate as just being bathed. You ran your fingers through his hair letting the soap rub in. Jason literally felt goosebumps on his skin and he closed his eyes and leaned into your hand. You were the only person that he let touch him and high key, this was the best relaxation he’s ever remembered feeling. You ran your hands through his hair longer that necessary but you could tell that he wasn’t complaining. He groaned a little.

You poured the water over his head and was pleasantly surprised that the water was soapy but clear. At least there wasn’t a lot of blood in his hair. Jason bent and washed his face in the water. He had more stubble growing than he usually did.

“Do you wanna shave your face? I can do it,” you offered. For a fraction of a second his brow creased before he gave you a half smile.

“Not today. I’m good. Thank you,” Jason said holding your hand. He couldn’t exactly say that he didn’t trust anyone with any kind of blade near his face.

“Are you okay? Tell me what’s going on,” You said reaching a hand to his other cheek. His jaw clenched a little and his eyes almost looked hurt. He was thinking of all the people who had died because they knew a secret. Other vigilantes who’d lost their entire families for knowing their secret identity. But at the same time, Jason knew that you wouldn’t stay around forever and the lies were growing. He was going to do one more little selfish thing. He sighed deeply.

“I’ve gotta tell you something but I don’t want to scare you,” he said and his eyes showed so much worry and fear. He genuinely thought he might lose you over this.

“Scare me? Jay, what are you talking about?” You said confused. He inhaled nervously.

“I- I’m Red Hood! Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to say it so loud,” he said. Jason’s eyes searched your face. Your eyes were wide and you were frozen. His breath was all over the place in absolute fear. It was only a few seconds but he prayed for you to speak.

“Did you just say that you’re Red Hood?” You said faintly. Red Hood was infamous. Brutally murdered gang members, rapists, and traffickers. Even once famously fought the dark knight himself. The one continued theme of everything you heard: cold, cruel, and highly deadly. If you saw Red Hood, it was probably the worst day of your life, if not your last.

“Uh... yeah? Yes.” He gulped and watched you. His blue eyes were so round and worried.

“No. I can’t believe that,” you said. Jason, who would read Jane Eyr to you, that fed stray cats outside of the apartment, and was literally the sweetest boyfriend couldn’t be this killer. He looked down with a sarcastic smile.

“I’m Red Hood. That’s me. If you don’t believe me, there is a Glock 26 Gen 4 strapped to my bedside table. There are a few more around,” he said motioning around the apartment.

“You keep stuff here?” You asked with a mad look. Your head was spinning.

“No. Just some protection. None of the Hood stuff is ever here. I don’t want anything that could be found in this apartment. All the stuff here is new and never fired besides a few practice rounds. I try to be as safe as possible so you are never in danger,” he emphasized. You both sat in silence for a few minutes. The only movement was Jason’s fingers running along your hand.

“Why? Why do you do it? Be the Red Hood?” You asked finally. He expected that question but not right away.

“I should probably tell you how it started,” Jason said and he didn’t hold back. He told you about his parents, attempting to steal the rims from the batmobile, becoming Bruce Wayne’s ward, becoming Robin, being killed by the Joker, the lazareth pit, and becoming the Red Hood. By the time he was done, the water was cold and your legs were numb. “That’s why I have bruises and scars. Why I leave sometimes or miss dates.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. He gave you a look of confusion. What could you possibly be sorry for? “You shouldn’t have gone through that. You shouldn’t have needed to hide it from me. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t scare you? You don’t want to run from a murderer?” Jason asked. His eyes searched yours for signs of fear or disgust.

“Is it really murder if they are evil? Or justice?” You said slowly and he winced at that word. Bruce certainly wouldn’t agree. “Every time I hear the question ‘would you kill baby Hitler’ I would. Without question. I would shoot a baby because I would be thinking about 6 million Jews and unknown others that died because of him. The bad guys always get out and make things so much worse.

“You’re going to have to tell me where all the weapons are here. I’m paranoid that I’m going to reach in the couch and grab a sword,” you said with a laugh, standing up. Sure, you were shocked. But that wasn’t going to make you run screaming into the night. Or maybe you were in shock? You’d find out in the morning.

“Swords are more my brother’s thing,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll show you. I’ve been wanting to teach you some self defense too.”

“We’ll get back to your brother being into swords later. But first, let’s get you out of that wet ass tub and into bed. Because I can’t process any more information tonight,” you said handing Jason a towel. He obviously favored his right shoulder when dressing in sweatpants before coming to the bed where he flopped down. The lights in the bathroom flickered and you rolled your eyes. That’s Gotham for you.

“I’ll fix that tomorrow,” Jason said quietly.

“Nevermind that. Do you want an ice pack?”

“No. I want you,” he said and you smiled a little before crawling in the bed. Jason moved around to lay with his head next to your chest snuggling close. It was almost comical the way the big man hugged you and laid in your arms. He needed to be close to you even though your arm on his waist made him clench in pain for a second before you moved to a better position.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly. “You’re way too nice to me. Almost gullible. Like Baby, you live this way?” he said with a smile. His sarcastic defense was back up. You rolled your eyes.

“Maybe I’ve got a thing for the whole bad boy thing. Or that I know last week, you had cereal with water and honestly, that’s the ultimate weakness,” you said back and he gave you a rare grin.

“We were out of milk. Like what was I gonna do? Eat it dry? No.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth and he grimaced.

“Sorry. We should get some sleep. It’s super late,” you said.

“Yeah, sleep. Sounds great,” he said already drowsy. “I fucking love you,” he whispered before falling asleep.

[helgabatwrittings]

When your world comes crashing down don't cry

Chapter 2: Running

AO3

He glanced once again at Adrien, who was still staring right ahead, frozen in some kind of spell that has been affecting him for almost a week now. He wasn’t even writing down anything, in his somehow simultaneously messy and tidy notes. And Adrien always participated in Physics class. He would bounce his leg in excitement while quickly solving all the different problems assigned to them, making Nino wonder, more than once, if he was one of those genius kids he sometimes read about on the internet. But now? He was just staring, the only sign of life from him were the occasional trembling sighs and the subtle shakiness of his hands.

Nino was absolutely certain that something was going on with his best friend. If he were to describe the major shift in Adrien’s behaviour from last week to this one in just one word, he would choose the word “slow”. Everything Adrien did now was slower than anything he had seen from the boy. The way he would take a couple of seconds to answer whatever Nino asked him, how he would trail behind him and the girls when they walked together through the halls of the school, the time Adrien took to look him in the eyes as if he was gathering the courage to do so.

Something was wrong and Nino, no matter how hard he tried, didn’t seem to be going anywhere in finding out what… in trying to help his best friend…

His leg was bouncing up and down, both in frustration and anxiety. Something was very wrong with Adrien, and he kept pretending he was fine! Even now, when Adrien was clearly pretending to be paying attention to class, Nino could tell that he was nowhere near that classroom. Heck! Even Miss Mendeleiev could tell it by the worried and subtle glances she kept throwing at Adrien. So yeah, this was serious if even Miss Mendeleiev was concerned.

The class was silent, except for the occasional whispers that could be heard, it was usually quiet, due to the strict style Miss Mendeleiev loved to adopt, so it’s not like anything was out of place. Nino looked around. Kim was subtlety passing a note to Alix who sat in front of him, while Max kept writing down the Gravity formulas that were on the blackboard. Rose and Juleka were quietly whispering between them, shy blushes and soft giggles could be observed if one was attentive enough. Nathaniel kept his head bowed down, probably drawing some doodles for his comic.

Nino looked behind him, noticing that Marinette’s eyes were completely fixed at the back of his bro’s head, her face twisted with the same concerned frown Nino was probably sporting as well. Alya noticed him staring and smiled adoringly at him to which he answered with a smile of his own.

He glanced once again at Adrien, who was still staring right ahead, frozen in some kind of spell that has been affecting him for almost a week now. He wasn’t even writing down anything, in his somehow simultaneously messy and tidy notes. And Adrien always participated in Physics class. He would bounce his leg in excitement while quickly solving all the different problems assigned to them, making Nino wonder, more than once, if he was one of those genius kids he sometimes read about on the internet. But now? He was just staring, the only sign of life from him were the occasional trembling sighs and the subtle shakiness of his hands.

Like he had read Nino’s mind, Adrien finally moved his head, looking down at his hands, and quickly shoved them under the desk.

Nino knew that this lesson was of extreme importance for their test next week. He knew that, and he also knew that unlike the blond sitting right beside him, he sucked at physics, so he really should be absorbing every piece of wisdom Miss Mendeleiev was sharing with them. But no matter how much he tried, his eyes couldn’t drift from the still image of his best friend. Even his blinks were slow, and… wait a second… Nino’s eyes narrowed to better focus on a small detail they caught. Was that powder on Adrien’s face? Was Adrien wearing make-up? He only wore make-up when he was trying to hide the tiredness on his face, it was always applied so lightly that it was almost imperceptible, but this one was obvious, it was so so obvious…

Something was definitely going on…

Riiiiiiiiiiiing

Nino jumped in his seat. The class was officially over, and he didn’t listen to a single word Miss Mendeleiev had said. He was so screwed for next week test…

He started packing all his stuff into his backpack, while Adrien just stood there, still frozen in the same spell that had overtaken him during class. When Nino finally tore his gaze away from his bro, he saw Alya and Marinette standing right in front of their desk, Marinette was frowning at Adrien, her face was pensive as if trying to come up for an explanation to Adrien’s odd behaviour, while Alya started to snap her fingers right in front of his face.

“Earth to Sunshine!” She called. Nino saw him slowly raise his head in Alya’s direction, seemingly looking past her.

Nino raised his hand to rest on Adrien’s shoulder, which made the other boy flinch and jump in his seat like a scared cat, he immediately retracted his hand. “Hey, dude, is everything okay?” He finally asked.

Green eyes suddenly turned to him, misty and full of sorrow, and Nino finally saw the mask crumbling down. He finally saw the exhaustion emanating in huge waves from Adrien’s inner core.

Adrien then snapped his head in Marinette’s direction, then Alya’s, then Nino’s again. He suddenly stood, and haphazardly shoved all the scattered papers and books inside his messenger’s bag, “I have to go”, he muttered, and without giving them any chance to even react to his sudden burst of energy, he bolted out of the classroom.

“What was that?” Alya asked perplexed.

Nino sighed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The violent wind hitting his face felt like a blessing, while Adrien, now in the safety that being Chat Noir brought him, ran across the Parisian rooftops. It kept him awake, it gave him a boost of energy even though his lungs were burning, and all his muscles were screaming from the exertion.

He should have gone back to school, he still had more classes for the day, but he physically couldn’t go back to that classroom and face his friends. The memory of Alya’s, Marinette’s and Nino’s frowns was enough to make his stomach fold in itself, threatening to expel all the little contents inside.

The violent vibration coming from the impact of his baton against the rooftop quickly spread throughout his arms, furthering straining his increasingly weak muscles.

“Ladybug thinks he’s obnoxious, and she’s right!”

All his forces vanished, making him lose his grip on the baton. The velocity in which he was running made him fly across the rooftop with no support whatsoever. He crashed against the black rooftop, his body rolling over it, being only propelled by inertia.

His body finally hit the brick wall of a chimney, and even though Adrien was wearing a super-suit, and his resistance was considerably more significant than if he was untransformed, every single part of him still seemed to be protesting in pain, rendering him immobile, lying down in foetal position with his back resting against that final chimney.

Being Chat Noir used to grant him the freedom he has always craved. He was free from all the press, all the people who chased after Adrien as if they knew him better than he knew himself. He was free from all the expectations, all the demands, all the disappointed looks his father threw at him. He could be whoever he wanted as Chat Noir, and so he pretended and pretended, clowning around, because no one expected anything from him, so he was free to do whatever he wanted, to say whatever he was thinking.

All his troubles would be left behind as soon as he said the magical words, but of course, he knew that they would catch up to him eventually because he was still Adrien underneath that black mask. It was easier to pretend though. And so, he acted and acted, until the act became the person, and he didn’t know who he was anymore. Who was he kidding? He never really knew who he was.

Adrien released a shaky breath. His back was killing him, and the left side of his hip was burning. He would have to apply so much concealer to hide the bruises that have for sure started to form.

Being Chat Noir used to be a blessing in his everyday life, a getaway from being Adrien. But now? It was starting to feel more like a curse. All because of Adrien’s problems, Adrien’s inner defects have caught up to Chat Noir.

Adrien wasn’t trustworthy, he knew that from the way his parents have always pretended that his mum was perfectly fine even though she was bedridden most of the time, that last year she was still around. He knew that from how his father would still not tell him anything about what happened to her. From how they didn’t trust him around other kids, thinking he was just a porcelain doll that would break at the slightest touch. How his father still wouldn’t trust him with Nathalie’s condition. And so, because Adrien wasn’t trustworthy, and Adrien and Chat Noir were the same person, Chat Noir wasn’t trustworthy. And that was why Ladybug was hiding so much from him.

Adrien was unlovable. He could tell by the way his father looked at him, with so much disdain, as if it would be better that he was gone instead of his mother, and perhaps he was right. Perhaps everyone would be better off without him in the pic-

His ring beeped suddenly as if it was trying to stop his downward spiralling thoughts. Adrien slowly raised his hand to his eyes’ level, pondering if he really deserved to be Chat Noir.

No one seemed to like Chat Noir, no one seemed to need him. Not even Ladybug. Ladybug is amazing, she has all those other superheroes to help her, and lately, she has been relying on them more and more, rendering him useless. He didn’t even use cataclysm in some of the last missions. Heck, Rena was already giving him orders and making plans with Ladybug.

They seemed to be so close lately. Adrien wouldn’t be surprised if Ladybug decided to tell her her secret identity, before telling him. And Adrien wouldn’t really condemn her. Rena was a far more competent partner than he ever was.

His breaths started to get more frantic for the third time that day. He had lost everyone. Ladybug, Nathalie, Kagami, Chloé, even Nino. Nino was his best friend, but he hated Chat Noir, who was a part of him, so if he found out his identity, what would that mean for their friendship?

And maybe he’s being overdramatic like he’s prone to be, and Nino really was only mad because he thought Aya was cheating on him, but could Adrien really risk it? Could Adrien ever tell him his secret and risk losing him as a friend because Nino really hates Chat Noir?

He felt like he was going to throw up, the lodge in his throat seemed to be the only thing stopping it.

A sudden flash of green light enveloped him, and the pain from his fall seemed to have doubled, which interrupted the train wreck that his mind had caught itself in. The pain was good. It distracted him. It was good.

A dark shadow flew across his blurry vision, and he felt something hit his wet face.

“-rien” He squinted at the shadow that seemed to be speaking. Adrien is going crazy. He finally snapped and this is how his fractured mind is showing him just how broken it is.

“Adrien, kid, c’mon!”

Plagg was frantically waving his little paws right in from of his eyes. His leg was vibrating.

Adrien further curled in himself, shielding himself from the cold wind that was sweeping through Paris. Shielding himself from all the voices laughing at him for being the joke he is.

“Kid, please say something, blink at me, anything! Let me know you’re here!” Green eyes slowly drifted to Plagg.

“Pl-Plagg…” God, his voice was trembling so much. Speaking was taking an awfully pained effort.

“Your phone is ringing, it’s that hat boy.” Plagg was holding his phone after diving into Adrien’s pocket. “Please, Adrien, speak to someone, anyone!”

“I can’t… He hates me…” He couldn’t look at his phone. His eyes drifting everywhere but the black blob in front of him.

“He doesn’t, I promise you that he doesn’t! Please, talk to him, Adrien!” Plagg cried, further pushing the phone to his face. Nino’s face was highlighted as he tried to videocall him.

The device kept vibrating. Adrien weakly grabbed it, but it fell to the floor as if his fingers had stopped working and lost all sense of how to grip an object. It hit his leg on the way, which seemed to have softened the fall, so the phone didn’t break. His leg though had just earned one more bruise for the collection.

Adrien’s mind was too sluggish, like an old car running its last miles, that it took him a while to realise that a new voice had joined him and Plagg on the rooftop.

[aeonghaseyo]

Your Trace, My Treasure

Summary: Marc and Nathaniel write and draw, respectively, on each others' notebooks because it's DEFINITELY a couple thing to do.

Word Count: 2105 AO3 link

Relationship/s: Nathaniel Kurtzberg/Marc Anciel Category: M/M Characters: Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel, Alix Kubdel (mentioned), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (mentioned), Juleka Couffaine (mentioned), Rose Lavillant (mentioned), Alya Cesaire (mentioned) Language used: English Author's Note: The creators of MLB really need to give the side characters screen time. The love square isn't the only romantic set of ships in the show and there are much more cute ships to write about. And so in my first time of writing a Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, it's about a ship that's entirely not part of the love square. This is my final workshop output from a creative writing class I enrolled in during the summer to get units in advance. Special thanks to my professor and two of my classmates for their feedback; I couldn't have made this work even more wonderful without their help. For the non-love-square ship and this being a successful workshop output thus far, I think I'm gonna give myself a pat on the back and more fanfic ideas to write. :)

Compared to the courtyard at Françoise Dupont High School where the lively chattering of students can be heard and the scrambling of footsteps were a staple, the art room was its own entire world of silence.

It was supposed to be a calming silence in that same art room where Marc and Nathaniel were to work on art-related endeavors of their own, but the former found this unwelcoming and rather deafening. It weighed down on his being that the atmosphere was unbearably awkward, much like he was most of the time even before he met Nathaniel and became his partner in creating comic books about Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their akumatized alter-egos who turned good and served as part of the superhero duo’s akuma-fighting team. Despite a remarkable development from being acquaintances, to newfound partners, and now to a bloomed romantic couple, Marc Anciel, as awkward as ever and still testing the waters on this newfound relationship, couldn’t shake this nagging feeling of inadequacy as someone’s significant other.

It just goes to show him that even though his romantic feelings for Nathaniel had been reciprocated at Day 0, it does not remove the remaining unease that Marc currently feels at Day 1. It was his first time in a relationship, and it was with the boy whose drawings he admired so much from the school paper. Simply put, it was too good to be true.

Unfortunately, the awkwardness Marc felt wasn’t masked enough, and Nathaniel immediately noticed from his place by the table beside his raven-haired beau. How could he not? It was very obvious, from the way Marc’s hand shakily distorted his usually refined, elegant script while writing the next chapter of their comic to the way his expression was contorted as if he was constipated. Nathaniel thought to himself that it was still an adorable sight, but clearly, something was up, and it wouldn’t do well to just ignore whatever troubled his beloved partner. Attempting to break the ice, the redhead cleared his throat, then spoke to call Marc’s attention.

“Marc.”

The novelist jolted in surprise at the utterance of his name. “Y-yes, Nathaniel?”

Leaning in for a better view of the page Marc was writing on, Nathaniel replied, “Your handwriting’s different.”

“W-wait, really?” blurted out Marc, quickly covering the page with his gloved hand. “I d-didn’t know you were p-particular with handwriting.”

Nathaniel placed a gentle, caring hand on his boyfriend’s with a smile aimed directly at him as he clarified himself, “It’s not that, Marc. I’ve seen it and it’s great. Right now, it just looks… wobbly. You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

Even if Nathaniel was a recluse in his own class, he could very well read into the emotions of people, but he doesn’t show it that often. As endearing as it was as a show of concern towards shy Marc, it was also overwhelming for the raven-haired novelist to have been the subject of such deep perception, even from the boy his heart palpitates for.

It was then that Marc’s fight or flight response reminded him in a split-second that he needed some sort of diversion for Nathaniel not to remind him of his own awkwardness.

“Isn’t it weird that our art teacher didn’t come here?” Marc rapidly questioned as he struggled not to look at the red-haired boy beside him. Despite this attempt to keep Nathaniel’s focus off of his disposition, glancing towards the door and not at Nathaniel did not help stop the blood from rushing to the novelist’s fair cheeks. His partner might be tired of this, of him, already, but that light chuckle of pure amusement coming from Nathaniel disproved that thought.

“Hey, hey, settle down Marc,” chided Nathaniel, “he might be running late. It’s okay for us to use the art room so long as it’s reserved around this time. Good thing that he reserved it at an earlier time than usual.”

With innocent green eyes, the raven-haired boy looked his boyfriend in the eye and asked, “H-he can do that?”

“Of course, he can. Let’s just wait for him, okay?” reassured Nathaniel, his left hand making its way on Marc’s right shoulder discreetly. “I’m sure my other classmates will arrive here shortly too.”

A shy smile emerged from Marc’s face as he replied, “Okay, Nath.”

Suddenly, a ringtone from the phone which was in Nathaniel’s pocket sounded audibly enough to catch both the boys’ attention. The redhead immediately fished out the device from his pocket and unlocked it, revealing three unread text messages from his close friend Alix.

Hey Nath! Something came up and I couldn’t swing by the art room. Love troubles again with Marinette. Juleka and Rose are also helping out with me so they can’t come.

I can’t believe that Marinette got invited personally by Adrien to his photoshoot but she can’t even give him her handmade gift or ask him out. Because she’s such a wuss, I got dragged here in the park by Rose because Mari needs all of her girl friends to push her towards Golden Boy Agreste YET AGAIN.

And apparently Alya alone couldn’t do it. Sorry! You’ll have Marc to keep you company anyway. Have fun! ;)

So much for those girls coming over to the art room. Nathaniel let out a sigh as he muttered, just enough for Marc to hear, “I stand corrected. The others aren’t coming.”

Catching on his partner’s crest-fallen demeanor and gazing at his face with sympathetic green orbs, Marc replied, “Guess it’s just the two of us for now.”

The next minutes were spent in silence again, with Marc continuing to finish a paragraph while Nathaniel sketched a bird’s eye view of the Eiffel tower as the background in one panel of the comic storyboard in his notebook. After several minutes elapsed, however, curiosity got the best of Marc, and so, with the tip of his pen lingering on the period of his last sentence, he kept on glancing at Nathaniel and the storyboarding he was working on. Besides the sheer focus that was evident in Nathaniel’s turquoise orbs, the shy novelist couldn’t help but notice the fine, steady strokes his beau’s hand were making with his fine-pointed mechanical pencil. So neat, so pristine. It’s amazing how he didn’t need an eraser to erase certain portions of his drawings over and over.

Marc had seen artist sketches himself of both people and objects, mostly done by his friend Marinette. As someone aspiring to become a fashion designer, she would be engrossed in sketching designs day by day, passion ignited by the sparks of inspiration she draws from around her. However, since Marinette’s sketches had obvious hints of disorder, as it normally is with crude artist sketches, it clearly contrasted with the otherwise structured sketches Nathaniel makes for his comic books. Marc, fully in awe, couldn’t help but take a break from his writing and stare at the red-haired illustrator’s creative process right next to him.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel, thanks to the strong, overbearing feeling of being watched, was getting overly conscious of his work. Keeping his composure to the best of his ability, he quickly turned to Marc and asked, “Do you need something Marc?”

Snapped out of his trance wide-eyed, Marc inwardly panicked. ‘Oh no, I must be staring at him too long! I hope I didn’t spook him too much.’

Scrambling for a sensible response, the novelist stuttered out, “I-i want to write something in your notebook.”

Setting down his pencil while his turquoise eyes were still on Marc, Nathaniel blinked inquisitively. “Oh, why would you want to do that?”

“B-because,” the shy writer reasoned, “I want to write something to remind you of me. T-that is, if y-you don’t mind.”

The red-haired teen averted his gaze from his partner as he remarked, “You know I don’t let anyone write on my notebook, Marc.”

This response triggered the disappointment that Marc had anticipated from the moment that they started continuing to develop the rest of the comic book they were working on together. It was even more daunting for the timid writer that their art teacher and the rest of Nathaniel’s classmates who were usually in the art room with them did not show up at that moment, or even at all. Marinette would tell Nathaniel that it’s a great idea for his newfound love to leave special traces on his personal notebook while Rose, somehow finding this romantic, would gush at this gesture with Juleka mumbling to herself in response. But what would have been the cherry on top for Marc at the moment is that if Alix was there to egg on Nathaniel, pressuring him to give in and let his boyfriend write something in his notebook. At least the comic relief from Alix’s teasing would help alleviate the collective awkwardness the couple felt at that moment. God, if only it wasn’t just the two of them in the art room at that moment.

But alas, he was alone, helpless and daunted, and he was facing the dragon which was Nathaniel, or whatever Nathaniel thought of him at that moment.

However, all of the fears and doubts that plagued Marc left him when Nathaniel continued with a small, endearing smile on his face, “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

The novelist beamed at his boyfriend, green eyes sparkling with delight. “R-really?”

“In one condition.”

Marc took and held in a quick breath. “Anything, Nath.”

The illustrator picked up his pencil once again and uttered, with an outstretched hand right by Marc’s notebook, “Let me draw in your notebook.”

It was at that moment when Marc could feel his heart flutter, accompanied by the butterflies in his stomach as he opened his own notebook to the very last page and laid it out right by his beau’s workspace.

“It would be my pleasure.”

In a span of 2 minutes while Nathaniel was drawing on the last page of his boyfriend’s notebook, Marc, fidgeting and tapping his pen softly on his chin, racked his brain for a simple yet memorable piece to write on the first page of the illustrator’s notebook, which was left empty out of personal preference by its owner. Hoping to obtain bit by bit of inspiration, he glanced at Nathaniel, then at the empty page, then at Nathaniel, and so on and so forth. This went on, albeit unnoticed by the redhead, until mere seconds after, he scribbled away on the page once he had gotten attuned with his creative writing flow.

After both of them finished leaving their traces on each other’s notebook pages, Nathaniel and Marc gave each other back their notebooks and instantly opened them to where they each left their special mark. Struck with awe, the novelist softly traced the outline of the drawing and his emerald eyes were drawn to Nathaniel’s signature which he left underneath the recently drawn portrait. A tinge of pink formed on Marc’s cheeks as he admired every stroke that constituted this drawing of him done by none other than the boy he once looked up to, now loved, and who loved him back.

“No one’s written me a poem before,” Nathaniel uttered as he perused every line written by Marc on that now extra special page in his notebook, eyes taking in every word written in that distinct elegant script that served as an epitome of beauty that the redhead beheld. One particular line at the end of the writing, however, caught him by surprise: the words ‘Je t’aime’ accompanied by Marc’s signature in that same fancy handwriting the illustrator adored dearly.

Having regained his composure, Marc turned to Nathaniel and asked, “Do you like the poem? I-i thought of it on the spot so it might not exactly be to your liking, but-”

“I love it,” interrupted the red-haired teen breathlessly, wrapping an arm around his significant other and squeezing his shoulder. “Really Marc, you make the most wonderful written pieces.”

An expression as bright as day graced Marc’s features as he replied, albeit with a bit of shyness in his voice, “Y-you really think so?”

Nathaniel threw any single hint of hesitation in his being out the window as he placed a tender, loving kiss on Marc’s forehead. “I do. We’re meant to be partnered together, after all.”

And just like that, the uncomfortable awkwardness that haunted Marc was instantly warded off, and in a flash, he enveloped Nathaniel in a tight, warm, loving embrace and leaned into him in newfound solace. The silence in the art room has never been this comforting as the couple relished in this seemingly endless embrace together.

[maddiewritesstucky]

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60​ for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway. 

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea. 

"Steve,”  he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to. 

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night. 

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning. 

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the  throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of  home and family and right. 

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter. 

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’  with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off. 

...Steve’s not here to actually  see  this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will  know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve. 

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam. 

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get. 

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour. 

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted. 

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better. 

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away. 

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb. 

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on. 

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin. 

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell. 

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time. 

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’   

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock. 

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off. 

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream. 

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah  - there’s a  lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.” 

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together. 

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...” 

“Mm?” 

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?” 

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him. 

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been. 

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way. 

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it. 

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up. 

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head. 

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.” 

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?” 

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick. 

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift. 

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.” 

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D!  to  oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.”  Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway. 

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What  a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures. 

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?” 

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours. 

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins. 

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.” 

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings. 

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close.  So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.” 

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.” 

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose. 

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall. 

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.” 

“Oh my god.”   

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later. 

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly. 

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips. 

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to. 

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...” 

“Fuck,  Bucky, I...oh...” 

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him. 

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.   

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him. 

“You said it, pal.” 

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach. 

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to  Steve.  It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath. 

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.  

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair. 

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.” 

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose!  ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one  time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.” 

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time. 

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.” 

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?” 

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him. 

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

[theladyscarlettt]

Petals (pt.1)

*I have returned and I bring with me a Bucky x Reader mini series. This takes place during #TFATWS. Also, this is a bit lighter (yet darker) than my regular stuff. Not fluff but sweet because god knows Bucky deserves to be happy every now and then. Also, this does have references to the X-Men comics and WandaVision*

-The Lady Scarlettt

Synopsis: Madripoor had everything you needed to forget your past, and everything you needed to lose your future. 

Part Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, mentions of mutilation

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Sunlight caught the blinds in a dance of shadows. Her eyes twitched with the familiar warmth of the morning star across her face. She slowly opened her eyes taking in the sight of their small room. It was bland and empty, just like their luck in finding Karli. (For a girl to be everywhere, she was also nowhere.) 

A grunt came from across the room, she sat up in the stiff bed to find Bucky lying on the floor with a blanket barely clinging to his sweaty body. She let out a soft sigh and rubbed her eyes. While he was capable of so much, she found it heartbreaking he had so little, it broke her to see him robbed of even the simplest of things such as rest and a bed. She pulled on his black tee shirt from the night before and snuck over to sit beside him. She watched as his eyes darted side to side behind his dark eye lids. If he didn’t sleep well before, he surely didn’t now with the constant traveling, search for Karli, run in with America’s Next Top Asshole and the literal cause of his night terrors in the next room. 

“Did you know it’s considered an invasion of privacy to watch someone while they’re asleep.” Bucky grumbled, his eyes still closed.

“Good thing you weren’t asleep then.” she stated.

A slight smirk tugged on his lips, “Did you sleep well?”

“I would have slept better if my pillow didn’t wonder off in the middle of the night.” she teased.

He opened one eye to look up at her, “Sorry.”

She only smiled sweetly, her hand finding its way to his stubbled cheek. “You really need a razor.” 

He grabbed her wrist pulling her down to him, and began to nuzzle her neck with his chin.

She gagged at the sensation, “Ugh- for an old man you really behave like a child- hey!” In one swift motion he was on top of her tickling her neck.

“Stop. Stop it.” She hissed as she playfully swat at him to get off her. He chuckled and leaned back still, straddling her waist. 

“You have so much energy in the mornings for literally no reason,” she groaned, rubbing her lightly burned skin. 

He leaned down to her, a smirk on his lips, “I can come up with a few, if you’d like.” 

She rolled her eyes, even though her cheeks began to flush, “Knock it off.”

He made a tch sound with his teeth, and sat back up.

She smiled and sat up on her knees, her hands clasping behind his neck, a finger twirling the slightly grown out hair. He leaned into her, looking up at her from where he sat, a sad expression came across his face. 

“What is it?” she asked, rubbing her nails lazily through his thick hair.

“I just,” he sighed trying to find his words, “I want to stay with you, but I just can’t make myself. I’m afraid of what I might do, if I stay too long.”

She tilted her head, searching his eyes, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want to have an episode at night and lash out. Sometimes they feel so real and I get can’t control myself and the last thing I want to do is hurt you and-”

“Hey, Hey, Hey” she interrupted, “Look at me.” She lifted his face up to hers, “Look at me, you could never do anything to hurt me. I know you don’t trust yourself sometimes, but I trust you and I know you. I’m not afraid of the ‘what if’s.” Please, hear me when I say, I want you to let me in, I want to be apart of this, all of it. I want to help you Bucky, but I can only go as far as you’ll let me. And if it takes time, ok but it’s going to take more than a nightmare to make me go anywhere. Ok?”

He stared at her for a long time, a blank expression on his face. She couldn’t tell if she had overstimulated him with her cheesiness or he simply was dead. 

“Bucky? If I’m overstepping, I understand-”

He abruptly wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her small figure to his. She melted into his touch, just as she had the first time he held her. They stayed like that for awhile until she heard him whisper.

“I love you.”

She smiled against his cool skin, “I love you too.”

He brought her face up to meet his and kissed her softly. His lips were always so soft and warm, something you wouldn’t expect. His thumb made tiny circles along her jaw, as she kissed him back. His hand slowly snaked their way down to her thigh where he pulled her onto his lap. She subconsciously, wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her back pulling him upward slightly. He held her thigh with one hand and reclined back with the metal one, smiling into her touch. She pushed forward as he pushed back, every kiss becoming more passionate than the last. She pulled at his hair, causing a longing moan to escape from his lips, exposing his neck. She began to place light kisses along side his neck, his breathing became deep as he massaged her thigh in return.  

He flipped over, now pressing her back against the ground, topping her. He kissed her back deeply, his tongue becoming well acquainted with her mouth. One hand began to find its way in between her thighs. 

Her eyes snapped open, “James.” She grabbed his hand, “It is 4 in the morning.” She hissed.

“HELL YEAH IT’S 4 IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!” Sam blurted out from the next room.

Bucky buckled forward burrowing his head in her neck holding back his horror.

“Shit,” Her face became the next 50 shades of red, as she covered her mouth with her hand to prevent a wave of uncomfortable laughter.

“HERE I THOUGHT AT 11pm I WOULD GET MY BEAUTY SLEEP BUT NOOOO. IF I HEAR THAT DAMN SHIT AGAIN I WILL COME IN THERE AND BEAT BOTH OF YALL’S NASTY ASSES.”

There was a moment of silence as the two looked between each other with mischievous smiles. He rolled his eyes and licked his lips knowingly. She let out a staged moan loud enough to be heard from outside.

“Fuck. Y/N.” Bucky grunted, his face tinted trying to remain collected. She covered her face with her hands moaning back at him.

Seeing her smile only made Bucky ham it up more as he began slapping his hand on the floor to create more of a scene to which she erupted in a fit of choked laughter. Sam yelled something from the other room about Jesus Christ and Sin. Bucky stood up with that smug look on his face, as he did whenever he won at annoying Sam Wilson. He gave her his hand and hauled her off the ground with barely any effort.

She finally settled down from laughing and looked at him, “I think we should do that more often.”

“What? Piss off bird boy or have sex?” He asked.

She grinned, “Can it not be both?”

Bucky made a face as if he was scheduling the next when and where.

She gave him a light slap, “Now don’t get cocky about it. Also, you stink. Go take a shower.”

He looked at her offended then gave a sly look, “Or we could ta-“

“No” she snapped like a mother to her child, “Get.”

He held up his hands up in defense, “Alright, Alright, but I’m going to need my shirt back.”

She groaned and peeled off the shirt and tossed it at his face. He pulled the shirt down and gave her a once over, “I like that color” he said inspecting her black laced undergarments.

“Good Lord, Go.” she shoved him towards the bathroom. He chuckled at her and whipped the shirt over his shoulder, sending her a cocky grin as he left the room.

Once the door closed behind him, she let out a sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. A wave of depression washed over her as she longed for the day they could just stay in bed and not battle some end of the world threat. She looked to the blanket on the floor where he slept the night before. He deserved so much more than this. They deserved so much more than this.

She couldn’t lie, after the blip the thought of going off grid looked truly appealing. With Nat, Tony, Vision, Bruce, Wanda, Thor, and Steve gone, the Avengers felt more like a club then an actual organization. While she had always been closer to Sam, Bucky and Steve the hole left behind by the others made it too hard to go on some days. What was the point? Every time something was fixed something worse happened. And they never were thanked properly, only ridiculed by what should have been done, because everyone always expected them to be heroes; yet they never saw they were also human. The only reason she stayed was for Sam and Bucky, they had become her family, especially after Steve’s passing, who was like a father figure to her.

She pushed away the memories that came rushing in. She could not allow herself to get emotional, their job here needed her full attention. She stood and changed into her suit and left the room. 

Zemo was reclined on a sofa, drinking a cup of tea. When she entered he gave her a solemn nod. She cringed slightly, the anger at what he did to Bucky and T’Challa creeping back in.

“You’re up early.” She stated flatly.

“Hard to sleep with all the noise.” He shot her a look. “I can start you a kettle if you’d like.”

“Sorry, and no thanks, I got it.” She said. Grabbing a kettle and filling it with water.

Zemo stood, “Do you mind? I’ve read of your powers but never have I seen them.”

She shifted on her feet, “Well, sure but it won’t be a firework show or anything like that. It’s still a new thing to me and I can’t really do much.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” Zemo asked, approaching her, finding a spot at the bar.

She looked at him as to say something but decided against it. She looked back to the kettle and placed her hands along the side. Zemo watched her every move; observing, analyzing. 

She took a deep breath in and reached for a part in her to attract the sensation she feels around her. The kettle began to warm and in a minute it was boiling.

“Fascinating” Zemo whispered, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

She poured the steaming hot water into a cup and placed two teabags in it. “See, nothing special.”

Zemo looked at her as if she had said something absurd. “You have a gift.” He countered.

“Feels more like a curse.” She scoffed.

“When did this begin?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I feel like I’ve always had these... these abilities but it wasn’t until after the blip did I truly began to use them.”

“Fascinating.” Zemo repeated.

She pursed her lips, while she loathed everything about Zemo, she couldn’t lie having someone appreciate her abilities felt nice. She normally just felt like a freak, too afraid to show too much emotion, in fear she might lose control.

“Can I have you try something?” Zemo requested.

She scoffed, “Sorry, I don’t feel like playing lab rat today.”

Zemo made a face, “I understand your negative emotions towards me, but to say I have had failures in this field would be an incorrect accusation.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fine. What?”

He leapt off his seat, seemingly excited to play mad scientist again. He fetched a candle from the table and sat it infront of her. She cocked an eyebrow.

“Light it.” He said, gesturing to the wick.

“I- I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Light it.” He repeated, pushing the candle towards her.

She reached to touch the wick but he slapped her hand away.

“Hey!” She blurted out, glaring at him.

“Without touch.” He said calmly.

She looked at him then back to the candle, frustrated.

“Focus on what you wish for it to be, what it will look like, how it will feel.” Zemo coached.

She shifted on her feet again, finding a more comfortable stance. She focused on her breath and stared at the wick.

“Breath in, and when you breath out try to push your energy at it.” Zemo said.

She closed her eyes feeling a tingling sensation around her, she inhaled slowly, feeling the sensation grow. She opened her eyes and focused the sensation onto her target. She heard a crackle sound, as if a fire was trying to start. She looked to Zemo wide eyed, he never looked up.

“Again.” He said, staring at the wick.

She shifted and this time held out her hand. She took a deep breath and this time flicked her hand at the wick on the exhale, a flame consumed the wick and began to slowly burn. She gasped.

“Beautiful.” Zemo smiled.

“Well shit,” a voice was heard. They looked over to see Sam propped alongside a wall. “You got sparkly fingers, Y/N.”

She laughed, delighted in herself, “Did you see it?”

“I saw it.” He smiled.

She looked to Zemo, “How? How did that happen?”

Zemo held out his hand and she reluctantly lended him hers. He flipped her palm up and traced a distinct ‘M’ she never noticed before, with his finger. “You are a mutant. You were born with this gift and just now have discovered it.”

“A mutant.” She echoed. “How do you know?”

“All mutants have the symbol ‘M’ mapped on their palm. Each with a unique ability. Your friend Wanda, she is a mutant as well.”

“There’s more?” She gasped looking at Sam.

“Many more, we walk beside them each day, yet we do not know it.” Zemo said.

She looked back to Zemo, suddenly desperate for knowledge. She knew she had these powers but half the time she felt it was all coincidence, and was honestly too afraid to attempt to use them. Knowing what happened to Wanda.

“I want to know everything, please tell me what you know.” She said.

“Woah, woah. Look, the magic trick was impressive but I don’t think you should be getting your information from him, Y/N.” Sam said walking towards her.

“Sam, he’s the only one I’ve ever met, who knows about this stuff, besides Wanda and I don’t even know where she is.” She protested.

“I assure you I do not intend to mislead-“ Zemo started.

Sam pointed at him, “No. You do not get to say that after all you’ve done. The only thing you do is mislead. Hell, you’ve probably already done something to sabotage the mission.”

“You think so little of me, Sam.” Zemo pouted.

“Yeah, I do and for good reason.” Sam stated.

“Sam,” Y/N started.

“Y/N! Sam!” Bucky’s voice echoed throughout the small apartment.

The two took off in the direction of the noise immediately. They came into the room to find Bucky staring out the window.

“What is it?” Y/N asked, coming to stand beside Bucky. She looked out the window, her eyes widening in horror.

“My god.” Sam uttered.

Outside the window was a some kind of mutilated animal strung upside down. Blood dripped menacingly to the ground below. 

“What does it mean?” Sam asked.

“It’s an invitation.” A voice said. The three turned around to find Zemo.

“The Power Broker requests our presence.”

Link to Petals (pt. 2)

[grabthemhorns-old]

Body Language, Demon Style - Obey Me!

Just some thoughts about the boys (+Diavolo and Barbatos) when they’re relaxing in their demon form as I think about this way, way too much. Horns and tails and scales are my Absolute Jam. My time has come.

SFW version. For now :3

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Lucifer: You notice the more he relaxes around you, the more he touches his horns. Wary, almost. You see the chips, the scratches and dents. A thousand, thousand years that followed their Fall, full of a thousand stories. You wonder just how much blood has painted the ridges.  And the feathers. Feathers that quiver, flutter, spread, when he just sits. Reading. Thinking. Do they speak for him, when he wont?  When you’re at his side, they’re an extension of self, acting on his subconscious will to embrace you with a delicacy that maybe he feels he can’t give you, directly.  They’re surprisingly warm. A dawn’s kiss, painted black.

Mammon: There’s always one wing that he favours, the leathery span twitching back and forth with a restless leg, a tapping finger, a chattering mouth. He’s oddly quite sensitive about people touching them. You ask him why one day. He tells you he sometimes still dreams about Lucifer tearing his own wings off. After that day he takes your hand and slowly draws it along the soft, golden tipped hide, letting you touch every edge, every scar and spike. When you’re alone, he can’t get enough of your touch on his wings now, casually spreading one out across your lap as you binge watch, followed by a cheeky smile.  His horns are pierced at the tip, golden hoops twice on either side. He likes to twist them when stretching out, enjoying the melodic, clack, clack. He enjoys it more when you play with them while he stretches out onto your lap, gentle, so gentle so not to scratch you with the jagged tips.

Leviathan: You think it’s cute when he picks at the bottom tip of his horns when he’s thinking, reading, or concentrating. As a result, that tip is misshapen on that side. But you don’t ever bring it up, knowing how insecure he is. And how much you’d never change a single thing about him.  Usually tightly wound when out, about, when with you, his tail drags comfortably along the floor, relaxed; it curls up to a gentle, swaying O. There’s this thing he does when excited with his tail that you adore. It just sort of, pings up straight behind him, then slithers back down. And if you are beside him, it slithers around you, moulding against your body. A perfect fit. You wonder if it’s conscious. Again. You don’t ask, you just enjoy. Lest he realise and stop. 

Satan: Now you understand why he keeps it wrapped around his body out, about and around others. It’s so expressive. Now just you both, it flicks back, forth; curling to delicate shapes you draw with your eyes; slinking around your limbs as you sit, sprawled across his lap, book in hand. The rough scales are ragged in places you notice at it slides across bare patches of skin. He apologises when you notice. But you just gently touch his tail, piecing together the scars with a kiss. It trembles under your touch.  You also start to notice, when his tail is free, that it mimics his motions. When he moves his arms, how he stands, the way he feels. But it’s always still a favourite of his to wrap the end around something. You ask why. It’s grounding. A fully connected touch, to touch. As you grow closer, that grounding becomes you. He is much more conscious to be near you with his horns, so aware of their size, and pointed tip. Kissing is still sometimes more rigid than you’d like, so aware of the fragility of your human body.  Asmodeus: Several piercings decorate his wings, and he almost chimes as he moves. Sometimes he moves so he will chime, so he will shimmer, the light catching the emeralds, rubies, the gemstones you don’t even know, studded through the thick hide.  It’s rare that he’ll fold his wings, even when relaxing with you. He wants to be seen, and the most important pair of eyes are yours.  But when you do get close, close enough to embrace while relaxing together, he tucks them away, so all that focus is just, you. It’s an odd feeling having such love for someone else in so long. It’s odd, looking up.

Beelzebub: His demon visage is probably the one that you have seen the least. You think maybe he doesn’t feel the need like the others. Running a hand across his muscles, maybe he doesn’t. But when he is in it, there’s barely a change in him.  His wings stay tucked, mostly, the light painting them in a ripple of rainbow every time he breathes, stretches, laughs. They twitch every so often, letting off a soft chirp. Does he blush when they do? You look again when it happens. Yes. Yes he does.  You start to compliment his wings more. Because they are beautiful. A cacophony of colour, that remind you of a chromatic star fall, contained to web that looked delicate enough to snap, beneath your touch. But it’s sturdy, as you find out when you see Beel stretched out on his stomach one morning on bed, eating his breakfast, wings spread wide. And you touch.  Belphegor: He’s in his demon form the most, probably. You’ve yet to ask why. Curled up, knees to chest, head down, he touches his horns a lot. Idly scratching, fingers tapping, twisting hair around the ends until it’s comically awry. You love to watch. And he knows. Some might think that his horns would get in the way of his sleep, but you soon find out that he’s grown attached to sleeping, dozing, relaxing, with them on. You watch how he curls neatly into a pillow, several dented into shape for his curved horns, and it all just, fits. One day you put one of the pillows on your shoulder. A silent encouragement. It slides to your lap.  They feel smoother than you’d thought. It’s soothing as you trace the curve they make. Around, around. Their point ends close, so close, to his face, you feel his lashes brush your fingers. He’s wide awake. His tail is often still. But when sitting together, you notice the fluffy end tap, taps on something. The sofa, his leg, your arm, your leg. It’s gentle and soft; it’s rhythmic and comforting. And soon you can’t do without. When he’s needy, clingy, he wraps his tail around your arm. Not very tightly, but you know how tight it can go. 

——————————————–

Bonus!!! 

Diavolo: You’re not even sure Lucifer can rival his presence when he’s in full demon visage. As bright, as beautiful as his smile and laughter, Diavolo shines. His wings are constantly spread, no matter who he is with or what he is doing. It’s like Lucifer’s pride has rubbed off on him. Or that you forget he’s the king here. And sometimes, he likes to let everyone know.  They echo his every gesture, his every emotion. Wide and welcoming with his arms; clawed and high in anger; rippling with his ridiculous laugh. You’ve always loved how Diavolo has spoken so loudly with more than words.  Occasionally, he’ll tap a claw against a horn. Or slide a finger along a gold trimmed edge. Is it to go - look at me; look at my power, and don’t forget who I am, above, and below. You don’t know. But you just keep looking. You smile.  It worked. Barbatos: Sometimes you used to not even notice he was there when he was. But the more you got to know him, the more you realised that’s what he wanted. Anonymity in a world where he stands beside a king. But when you see his demon visage for the first time, there’s your initial thought. Maybe it pales in comparison to the likes of Diavolo, of Lucifer, of Satan. But that night, all you could see, was Barbatos and the crown of his peculiar bat wings, unusually still and poised, even when he walked, never moving once. Delicate, but prominent. Unique, amongst a slew of power and pomp. You’re both alone, but is he really relaxed? You blink twice when you see the bone bat wings move atop his head. A gentle sway, as if a flap to stay airborne. You watch. His poise, perfect. Legs crossed, back straight, even as you’re on the 10th episode. All that’s different is your held hands.  You squeeze. The wings move again. You smile. As does he, squeezing back.