#and i wasn’t planning on ranting in the tags but now that i’m here i might as well

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I���ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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prelude

“ask for forgiveness,

never permission.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags: acid rain wound, cannibals living their best lives in cannibal town, slow burn eventual: smut, violence, toxic themes

word count: 1.7k

hello world! i currently have alastor brain rot and felt compelled to jump back into writing fan fiction. i’m a little rusty and i’m not sure how many parts there will be; i won’t deny that this is purely self-indulgent but i hope you enjoy all the same :)

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was worse.

Thoughts of your grandmother rose to your mind, despite how desperately you tried to push them down. “Hell is the absence of God,” she would always say after one of her famous rants. A warning you perhaps would have heeded, had it been coming from a place of love instead of moral superiority. 

You had seen her on the streets of Hell a few times now, always sure to avoid catching her attention. The warm pleasure that bloomed in your chest was too precious to give up, despite knowing how good it would feel to rub her fate in her face. A lot of good all those Sunday mornings had done her, haughty bitch! You wondered how often your grandmother laid awake at night, desperate to know how she had ended up here. A wicked grin spread across your lips, revealing milky-pink fangs.

It was hard not to imagine the look your father would have given you if you could tell him she was here. He would definitely have scolded you, but you knew a small part of him would be amused. If calling her a bad grandmother was putting it lightly, she was an even worse mother-in-law. Hopefully you would never get the chance to tell him; Mother was waiting for him in Heaven, after all. And things should be much easier for him now, all things considered. Leaving him alone hadn’t been part of the plan, so all you could do was tell yourself that it had been worth it. Someday you would believe it.

Grandmother was right though, loathe as you were to admit it, and the feeling of loss burned through you every morning when you awoke. Every night, you dreamed of rain; the sound of it, the smell of it, the feeling of it coming down on you in the middle of the family garden. Oh, how you missed the garden. The dark, wet dirt. Blue puffs of hydrangea against stark-white azaleas, your mother’s coveted yellow roses. The Spanish Moss hanging like phantom sails off the branches of the huge oak tree in the corner, where your father had placed a bench and made a small pond. You would sit under that tree for hours lost in a book, listening to the sounds of the garden.

The fire and brimstone you could endure. It was the way everything else was twisted here that was grueling. As if feeling your lament, a drop of acid rain hit your window, quickly morphing into a full-blown storm. A frustrated growl erupted from you and you rolled onto your stomach, burying your head under your pillow and said a silent prayer to whatever force would grant mercy on your roof. You couldn’t afford to get it fixed again. The prayer had been answered just a moment after the rain stopped, when a drop of it fell from the ceiling and onto your pale, unsuspecting calf, your mattress absorbing the scream of pain that tore through your chest.

As the acid made its way through your leg, and eventually your mattress, all you could do was sob. Eternity… This was eternity. 

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If this morning had been good, the day could only now be considered grand.

There was really nothing quite like a post-rain stroll through Cannibal Town, witnessing the misfortune of partially-dissolved sinners who had been caught in the deluge being consumed on the streets by the lively, ever-hungry inhabitants. Alastor would never tire of this jovial bunch that called this part of the Pentagram home, reveling in the sound of screams, the crunching of bone, the almost-lewd and animalistic grunts of feasting.

Were Rosie not expecting him for tea, he might have allowed himself to join in on the fun. Alas, his only solace was that Rosie never served anything less than superb, being the excellent hostess that she is.

He was quite intrigued by her invitation to join her alone, which meant that this likely wasn’t anything to do with donating a small army of cannibals to aid in the fight against the Angels. Indeed, Charlie’s presence would be required once it was time to cash that favor in.

Not that he didn’t enjoy a casual visit (as casual a visit between Overlords could be), he couldn’t help but wonder. Thinking a few steps ahead was a must if one was going to thrive in Hell, and well, it was no secret that Alastor was doing a pretty fine job at that, all things considered. He began to whistle, earning a few gory smiles from cannibals who stopped mid-meal to enjoy the tune. A true honor.

Rosie opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock, the “Closed for Rain” sign clattering against the glass as she cooed. “Alastorrr! Come in, come in, before it starts raining again.”

As if on queue, a roll of thunder tore through the clouds, drawing a cheer from the denizens of Cannibal Town in anticipation for round two. 

“Rosie, my dear, always an honor and a privilege to be deemed worthy of your company,” Alastor said, bowing his head as Rosie feigned a blush, leading him to the parlor where they would be taking their tea.

The usual pleasantries were exchanged between sips of tea, coffee, and candied organs, which Alastor forced himself to consume through sheer courtesy. It was all part of the art of visiting, one he quite enjoyed, and he would never shame his mother’s memory with bad manners. They had just finished a plate of finger sandwiches when Rosie leaned in slightly, the conspiring grin on her face letting him know that it was, at last, time for business.

“You’re always so good to indulge me, Alastor. It doesn’t go unnoticed,” she said, grinning as she motioned to a maid to come grab their empty plates. “I’m sure you’ve been dying to know why I asked you over here this afternoon.”

“Oh, Rosie, it’s purely selfish! You know how hard it is to find good company in this godforsaken place. I’m more than grateful to receive your hospitality,” he said with a trademark smile and flick of the wrist, leaning back in his chair as the maid cleared the table.

She had just turned to leave with their plates when the smile on his face nearly faltered. Was that… almond he smelled? It had been so long, but he was fairly certain it was. There was an underlying trace of blood, though that was common enough around here. But almond? It was too pleasant for Hell.

Rosie’s eyes darkened to match her grin, not missing the twitch of Alastor’s mouth. She knew he’d have been able to smell it. It seemed that so far only Hellborn could pick it up, but what would be the fun in letting him know that? 

“Divine, isn’t she? A walking pastry, but not much of a talker. I like to bring her around whenever a room needs some pizzazz! She would’ve been eaten alive had I not taken her in,” Rosie whispered cheekily, as the maid returned with a fresh kettle and a gelatin mold for dessert. Rosie, not missing a beat once the tray had been set down, turned to her with a smile. “Thank you dear, you can leave now. I’ll ring the bell if we need anything else.”

The maid gave a silent curtsy and left the room as instructed, her sweet scent clinging to the air. Since coming to Hell, he took pleasure in the taste of bloody iron, the bite of black coffee. But in life… Memories of marzipan and frangipane tarts swam in his mind. And hadn’t Mother used almonds in her cherry pie crust? It took Alastor all he had not to drool, unsettled by the sudden rush of saliva in his mouth. Ages had passed since he last thought of such sweet things. He cleared his throat with as much grace as he could muster. Rosie only grinned.

“Well, she’s certainly new, so I suppose it’s not surprising she doesn’t talk much. It’s quite easy to tell when a sinner is… adjusting. So morose! You’re very gracious to have taken her on.” Alastor took a sip of coffee, desperate to get that almond smell out of his nostrils. 

“We both seem to be rather gracious these days, don’t you think?”

And there it was.

Rosie sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued. “I was actually wondering if perhaps she might fare better in that hotel you’re running. Don’t get me wrong, she smells incredible, but fuck does she suck the air out of a room once the novelty wears off. She was scaring away clients, and you know it’s pretty bad if cannibals are uneasy around you for Christ’s sake, which is why I had her start working back here, but…”

Alastor had to resist gripping his knee, putting all his effort into maintaining a pleasant face. He had expected to be asked for a favor of sorts, but never did he imagine that Rosie wanted him to take on an employee. She’s had sinners sign contracts for little less than a new parasol, let alone a job. There was something more to this.

And beyond being an air freshener, what good was she for, really? He could deal with quiet, but to have to put up with yet another sulky face! What he had done to deserve it, he didn’t know.

But he knew there wasn’t really a choice other than to take the poor creature into his charge. Rosie was an alley he deeply cherished, and he was already in her debt for the help she had provided just weeks ago. This was no doubt the first part of paying that debt back, a sign of goodwill. Not every deal was beneficial from the start; still, Alastor wouldn’t outright accept the offer. That was part of the fun.

“Well we already have a maid,” Alastor said gently, “but after the recent renovation, we are anticipating more sinners to check in. Not that I doubt Niffty’s abilities, but I suppose she could do with some help when business picks up. How long were you thinking of lending her to our cause?”

Rosie waved her hand. “Lend? Oh, honey, if you’re willing to take her, she’s yours. I’ve got plenty of helping hands, but it does me no good to have such a wet blanket hanging around. There’s just the matter of…,” Rosie trailed off as she reached into her purse, retrieving what Alastor already knew she had been grabbing for, “…her contract.”

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[bucknastysbabe]

Covetousness - Aegon II x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Chubby!Aegon, King!Aegon, breastfeeding kink, pregnancy kink, slight body worship, edging, handies, pnv!sex, jealous sullen little brat Aegon, stuffing, creampie, breeding kink, he loves some milk, breast fixation

A/N: I was invaded by a dark spirit again and made this also I don’t beta excuse any fuckups

Tag list: @lovelykhaleesiii @ilikeitbetterangsty @fairysluna

Aegon was being sulky and mopey today, jealous of the lords in court obviously staring at your milk-swollen teats, unable to be hidden in any dress.

In typical fashion Aegon had a fit, ordered that the court session was over and threatened to have eyeballs cut out. Huffing and puffing down the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast he ranted, “They think because I’m scarred, fat, a simpleton the leeches can have my rose.”

You sighed, patting his pudgy hand, “Sweetheart, you’re perfect as is. Whose child is in my womb, hm?”

“Mine,” he muttered.

The rest of the walk was blackened by his ugly mood. Once sat down in your chambers Aegon poured himself a liberal amount of wine and angrily munched on sweet rolls. You sat in the chair across from him, hand across your belly. Gently you tried again, “My king, why must you hate yourself so? You’re amazing, going to be a good papa to the babe.”

His eyes softened up some at that. But his unthinking pouty mouth had to run. Aegon snapped, purple eyes flashing, “Best go find a Lannister or Arryn. Fat and inept just like that dead bastard Viserys.”

Your mouth downturned. The Targaryen had matched your pregnancy down to the mood swings, cravings, weight gain. Although he wasn’t svelte to begin with. Never the matter, he needed a firm hand. You stared at him blankly, idly caressing your stomach.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I disgusting you?”

You canted your head towards the huge bed and hummed, “Honey, go get on the bed and undress will you? Please?”

As foul of a temper he was in, the blonde was wrapped around your little finger. He sighed and blew smoke but did so, lounging out for you to ogle. You smiled and ambled over, turning for him to help you undress.

The fool liked you to wear low cut dresses, milk swollen tits spilling out. But then get mad when people looked. Aegon’s mind could be an enigma. But it was more likely the lack of forethought, prick overtaking common sense. Something to stare at while on his lofty seat atop the iron throne.

You moaned in relief when your teats were freed from the constrictive garment, Aegon’s hands grasping at your softened waist. He mumured, “C’mere let me, I know they hurt.” You turned and let your doting husband help your out-of-balance frame onto his wide thighs.

He made to suckle at a stretched nipple but you pushed the beast back with a resounding, “No.” His brows furrowed as Aegon squawked, “Why not? They look full up. I’m hungry.” Tutting at the blonde you pulled a cord from one of the curtains surrounding the bed. Aegon whinged and rolled his eyes, remaining pliant.

You tried to reach around him but both of your bellies were in the way. One soft with indulgence, the other hard with child. Eventually you made Aegon turn himself to the side so you could tie his wrists up. Poor thing was beet red now, grumbling under his breath.

Sighing in contentment you stroked a full cheek, simpering, “Do I always have to force it into your thick skull Aeg? I love you, only you.” His eyes shone, his eagerness for affection peaking splendidly. Aegon rasped, “Will you show me? I’m not quite sure?”

Cheeky bastard.

Awkwardly leaning to the side you felt around the side table for the scented oil. Aegon’s stiff prick nudged at the bottom of your rounded stomach. Violet eyes flickered up, the king treading lightly, “My rose, wh-what is the plan here?” You shrugged and coated your hand in the lavender oil, gripping his turgid cock. Aegon gasped out, back arching, shoving his generous gut into you. The softness made you squirm, grow wetter.

You jerked him in smooth slides, lids heavy and focused on only him. Aegon was panting already, thick thighs trembling around your own. “Can’t you see how much I desire you Aegon? How wet and needy I am for you?” He groaned in agony, eyes fluttering. You continued in a sultry purr, “Every morning I see how you’ve bred me good and get so, ah, aroused. Can barely reach anymore. Have to rut on a pillow like a maiden.”

Aegon babbled, “Gods, sweetheart, you’re killing me!”

He strained against the bonds, panting shamelessly. You giggled at the copious spend leaking from his cock, making the glide so thick and lurid. Aegon whined, “Let me have a taste,

oh gods, gonna cum already!” You shook your head no, slowing your fist to a frustrating halt.

“You can drink if you make it two more times Hm? Two times for mentioning Lannister and Arryn like I want anyone but you. They can look all they want, but they’ll never have my cunt or my womb, my sweet milk you greedy thing.” Aegon’s belly trembled, even his softened chest peaking from arousal.

“I’ll do it, yes, my r-rose! M’so sorry I was being an ass! Can I touch you atleast?“

“One more and you can touch.”

Thus began the the second round of your fist fucking Aegon silly. You cooed, “So gorgeous my king, such a good ruler, look at you.” He groaned deeply, nose scrunching up. “My strong husband, a king should fit his throne like you do, need a healthy appetite to run the realm. No matter you’ve gotten soft.” Aegon pled, “F-fffuck love, oh you’ve got to stop, I’m so close!”

“Do you think your belly is bigger than mine?”

“Oh stop stop stop, I’ll ruin it, shit!”

You grinned and caressed his cheek with your clean hand, pinching the soft flesh. Another awkward session of maneuvering was endured to get Aeg’s wrists free. Before he could grab your waiting flesh, you hummed, “Touching only, make it through you get my tits.” He whined impatiently, “Yes, yes!”

He instantly groped and felt up your belly and tits, pretty eyes rolling up. He panted over the rhythmic ‘Schlick schlick Schlick’ of your fist, “Oh my gods- love- you’re so gorgeous, can’t believe I did this to you, fucking goddess.” Your own eyes fluttered at that, suddenly needing to sit on your lovers cock.

Aegon was sweating and beginning to shake again, growling, “You’re right- hah- all mine to fuck and breed as I please.” You moaned, “Smith’s balls, yes, want to be full of you all the time, only you!” Your lover gripped your moving hand, stopping it, eyes pleading.

“Oh fuck it.”

His calloused hands helped you lift up onto his purpling cock, slick and engorged. In a hoarse cry you gripped at his sturdy shoulders, moving the best you could. This wasn’t going to be a long, nor acrobatic affair. “Go on, have a taste, drink it up my love.” Aegon took to your left teat greedily, coaxing that sweet milk out.

His pudgy hands massaged at your sore tits, making you whine and squirm on his lip, so oversensitive from the pregnancy. The blonde moaned around desperate gulps, rutting into your cunt, building a strange friction setting your spine alight.

He drank and drank until your tit wasn’t fit to burst, wiping the droplet of milk from your mouth. Aegon rasped, “Goddamn ambrosia, fuck.” He dove back to your other nipple, giving the same grasping manner. You could feel his belly swelling with the liquid, pushing you back some. Your nimble fingers slid down to your swollen bud, circling roughly, hoarse groans escaping your lips, chanting his name in a litany.

Aegon gasped around your tit, breathing against the flesh, breathing while he kept rutting. The king managed, “Gonna cum, keep touching that sweet cunt darling, I’m about to burst.” His lips sealed back, violet eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

All the stimulation, Aegon’s greedy groping and suckling, his thick cock nudging your sweet spot sent you over the edge with a wail, inner walls clamping down. Your husbands hands dug into your hips, shouting as you drug his orgasm out by surprise. Milk coated his full lips and chin, the royal carrying on grunting as he pumped your womb full.

Then he finished off the rest of your milk, leaning back with a satisfied belch, goddamn pig. You were still seated on his cock, worn out from the strenuous activities. Aegon’s belly was swollen and full, him looking quite dozy. He held your hands as you clambered off of him, laying on his side, pregnant belly flush to his softness.

He pet at your hair, murmuring, “By the gods, I do apologize. I get all in my head, think you’ll find someone less of a buffoon.” He smiled at you, but his eyes shone with fear. Rubbing at the sparse hair on his chest you replied, “No, you’re a buffoon for thinking you’re a buffoon. Obviously I’m quite invested in my handsome king. Though I do wonder how you’re going to share with the babe.”

You snickered at the pouty look on his lips, Aegon muttering about your ‘mean joke’. You gingerly rubbed his belly and hummed, “Don’t worry, I’ll save some for you, just get it while you can yeah?”

[livelaughlovesubs]

Pitiful thing

Dom!reader x sub!Raphael (reader is gender neutral)

Part two!

!Warning! dark content (this is going to be disgusting), a bit gore (ripping wings!), sadistic reader, spit, vomit, dacryphilia, beating, biting, stepping, stomping, kicking, piercing (Rara is getting rid of an old one), anal play, sounding, slapping, use of sex toys, blood

Word count: 7.3k (my longest one yet)

Nini!rant: repost until it shows up in the tag…!

The accident which occurred during Christmas was long forgotten. For you it was a brief interaction, a short encounter and a meeting never meant to happen. It didn’t matter what happened to him, to that angel, because in the end what they did to you were worse. Maybe it wasn’t justified and you were being petty, since that angel in particular hasn’t done anything yet, but do you regret it? No. It was fun.

On the other hand, it left the other party pretty impressed, as if the event left a brand on him. That angel thought something was established between you two. A special treatment only he got, as if he became a higher being. It’s not that he caught feelings for you, it was for the act you did to him. Even though it’s a curse in disguise, since he is the sun that got attracted to the night.

Not even a month later that man came down to hell again, landing at the same spot as last time, searching for a certain someone. Just like playing catch, about him looking for that vivid dream he lived down here. How ironic, once was enough to get him hooked and addicted.

And destiny was playing a prank on you, unexpectedly bringing you two together again. Because as fate planned, you crossed that path on that specific day too. A huge dust cloud was spreading in front of you, hindering your sight. It took a while to make out the familiar shadow between the mist. You squint your eyes, no way he was back here again. However you weren’t displeased. Why should you get upset about something insignificant like this anyway.

“Someone out for revenge?” You remarked and leaned against one of the food stalls. The familiar figure turned around to face you, his bright blond hair appearing from behind the mist. “No, rather, I’m here to thank you.” He said, slowly his entire figure emerged from the dust. “That’s surprising, why so?” His words caught your attention, you didn’t expect it from him, an angel. “You helped me become a higher being, I guess it is curtesy that I show you my gratitude. So, I’ll give you permission to touch me.” Raphael said with a smug face. It’s unnecessary to mention that you were hella confused, what did he eat this time?

The angel also seemed a little confused now and added, “…shouldn’t you be grateful and happy?” Ah. So that’s what was going on in his head. “Hah, haha.” You giggled, and continued with, “become a higher being? Really? You angels are more arrogant than I thought.” Raphael didn’t let it get to him, all he did was muttering under his breath, “right, a human couldn’t possibly understand something as complex as this. Fine, I don’t care.” That’s what he said, but he did sound a little disappointed.

“Right… hey Raphael, just tell me if you want to fuck. I liked how you cried.” You were now the one with a smug face. Suddenly he grabbed your shoulder and shouted, “Don’t forget your place, you are just an insignificant creature, we angels are the only ones loved by god.” The grip was tight, it almost started to hurt, but you couldn’t stand how he tried to intimidate you, so you replied, “oh yea? And who is named gods only mistake?” That wasn’t smart, he had all reasons to kill you after all. But hopefully he won’t, after all you are the one that got him ‘closer’ to god. You are the only hint those annoying things have.

The Blondie seemed to struggle with making a decision, before giving up. “Damn it.” He sighed and pushed you away. “Woa, how friendly of you. Now I’m definitely not going to help you become a greater being.” “And what if I threaten to kill you?” “You can’t because you’ll still need me.” This wasn’t going anywhere, it’d be better to just separate. Right now all you two were doing was fighting like children.

“So what do I have to do to get you to help?” Raphael crossed his arms and acted coldly, still having that overly confident aura surrounding him. His halo with the little sun was also shining slightly, how it irked you. All angels were the same, overly confident, arrogant and a pain in the ass. Then something clicked in your head, even if their personalities are shitty, you were still able to have fun. “… actually, nothing, just don’t resist.” “What?” You didn’t explain yourself, instead walked closer to him, resulting in him backing up some steps too. “What are you-” “I told you not to resist.” Your hand reached out to him, holding him by his waist. “Ugh..!” He tensed up, you could tell he was hesitating on what to do, still looking for the best solution. But you ignored it, why should you care about his comfort anyway, he came to ask you to touch him after all.

The hand, which was on his hips moved to his back and groped his ass, while your other one started to cup his bulge. He pushed you away again, “You! How dare you do something like that!” “You said I got permission to do it.” “And? That’s why you aren’t going to warn me?” You rolled your eyes and turned around, about to go back to your home in hell. “If you don’t want to do it I won’t. I’ll be on my way now, what a waste of time.” “Wait!” He yelled again, with a half angry and half desperate tone. “I’ll do it, just- not here.” “Pff, everyone saw your body on Christmas anyway.” “Still, ugh, why are you so stubborn?!” “I’m leaving~” “alright alright!” Raphael hurriedly raised his shirt, biting the end of it to keep it raised, showing off his piercings. The two crosses on his chest waved, practically inviting you to touch them. A small smirk escaped you, “hah, so you can be a good boy after all.”

A few moments later you were touching him all over. He stood and kept his arms behind his back while you gave him a sloppy handjob. Hands wrapped around his shaft, pressing down slightly when reaching the tip and repeating the movements. Every time you did that he flinched, his shoulders jerked upwards and his piercings clanked against his skin. All those accessories on his body were cute, he was the definition of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’. Not to mention his moans were adorable too, and how he blushed like a maiden fresh in love. Did he get more sensitive during that time span? At least that cock cage he once had was gone, guess he didn’t get a new one. “Hey, get on your knees.” “Hmmm?!?” He sounded like he was protesting, but you can’t hear so it doesn’t matter. In the end, he did just as you said, why would he go though the extra trouble to be a brat only to follow your comment anyway. After he got on his knees, he soiled his clean white pants with dirt, his cheeks got a bit redder too. Because he kneeled down, you couldn’t reach his crotch anymore, so you placed your hand on his chest instead.

Fumbling with his pink nipples, tugging on them carefully. Rolling your finger over them and groping his pecs. It was embarrassing for Raphael, it didn’t hurt nor felt especially good, it was humiliating. Every single part of this was shameful and he truly didn’t know what he was doing here. Though somehow, he still found pleasure in the pain you gave him, it was scary how much he enjoyed it.

His saliva drooled down his chin, all the way down to his white sweater. A wet spot could be seen and it kept getting bigger. His bangs were also sticking to his forehead due to the sweat covering his body, and not to mention how much he trembled. It was cute, you wanted more. You pulled at his piercings, enough for it to hurt slightly, watching as his buds stretched forwards. “Mhm-mmM!” The angel groaned, face blushing furiously while he clenched his teeth. Eyebrows furrowed and expression twisted into one of shame. If you didn’t know better you would have thought he was going to kill you any moment.

“I’m done, get up.” Just as how abrupt you started this play, you ended it too. That was so sudden, he couldn’t even process the information before your hands left his body. He let his shirt fall down and asked, “what? But…” then he bit his bottom lip, followed by standing up on his wobbly legs, unwillingly getting up from his spot. “fine, ugh..” the man in front of you looked like a mess, seriously, he couldn’t even stand without shaking. “You did pretty well, come back another time.” “..?? Why’s that?” “Don’t follow me.” You turned around and left, ignoring him as well as his questions. “Hey, hey! Come back- you, ugh, damn it!” That man’s frustrated screams were the last thing you heard.

Some time has passed since your second meeting with him. To be honest, you were surprised he actually listened to you and didn’t follow you. Nevertheless, that didn’t change much about your perception of him. You weren’t sure yourself why you left like that, however you were sure on one thing, it was a good decision to leave that day. He will come to you by himself sooner or later, and if destiny is still in your favour, everything will go just as you anticipated.

Today you were chilling outside a hotel. It feels nice being alone for a bit, or rather, not being in the presence of any clingy devils. You didn’t necessarily hate them, but you didn’t have hard feelings towards them neither. At first you thought it wouldn’t bother you that they all subconsciously thought you were Solomon, but it did start getting on your nerves. Also how they didn’t even want to accept the fact that you were someone else, not trying at all to adjust. They were also rather… controlling. It was hard enough to sneak out without Satan or sitri noticing.

Raphael didn’t have such a peaceful time like you, he was frustrated beyond repair. The first time you touched him he was at least able to finish, last time you left him with a raging boner. That must be the reason why he missed you so much, he wanted you to finish what you started. So when he finally found you, his heart skipped a beat. He immediately landed in the back alley of the hotel, quietly and carefully, as if one wrong move would cause you to run away.

You noticed him when he started to walk towards you, wondering when he got here. It’s the first time he didn’t make a mess as soon as he came down to hell. “You, you are free now aren’t you?” Raphael proclaimed, a stressed expression on his face. The past two weeks didn’t go well for him huh. “Yea, and?” “The thing you did last time, finish it.” You eyed him up and down, he could feel your sharp gaze on him, it made him almost uncomfortable. Once again he was making such a bold request. Oh well, you have some spare space in your schedule and playing with something else once in a while is healthy. “I’ll pretend I heard you say ‘please’, anyway, follow me.” “Where are you taking me?” “I thought you preferred doing it inside?” “I’m not a pervert like someone else after all.” How impolite he was, but you’ll excuse him for this once.

You greeted the reception as you got inside the hotel and walked straight to the elevator, Raphael followed you with hesitant steps before joining you. It was a bit awkward, especially for him since it’s an unfamiliar environment, you could see how he fumbled with his hand. Maybe he was wondering why none of the devils were suspicious of him, or if his presence really is that unnoticeable. It could have been something entirely unrelated too.

The two of you didn’t exchange a word while waiting, and it continued until both of you arrived at the vip room (a small advantage of being friendly with the kings) of the hotel. Afterwards you pulled out a room card and unlocked the door with a click sound, opening and entering it. “Close the door behind you.” You said, in case it wasn’t obvious enough. He did without much thought, and started looking around in the room. It was pretty and had a bathtub too, to be expected for vip. The bed was kingsized, it took up so much space but the room still looked huge.

You sat down on the bed, he stood in front of you. Then you commented, “you know, Raphael, you value yourself so much but how comes every time we meet it’s about intimacy? You are pretty desperate for an angel.” He didn’t show much of an expression, even so you could read his body language and saw his fist tightening. “It’s a bit ironic.” A small chuckle slipped from you after saying that, then you patted the space next to you, telling him to sit down. The angel obliged and walked over, when he got close enough you pulled him by the arm to force him to sit down.

Just like what happened a few days ago, you do what you want without any regards for him. Once he sat down, you pushed him again to make him lay flat on his back. He didn’t really resist since he knew he was stronger than you, and this time he wasn’t restricted by any weird powers. “Keep your hands above your head.” Another command, he debated silently whether he should keep playing obedient, but after seeing how you left last time… he really didn’t want to get worked up for nothing again. It’s always so thrilling and surprising when with you, because you do what you want and never tell him your plans. Though sometimes he thinks it’s better he doesn’t know.

Now that his arms were hold above him, you tied them together. Despite the fact that he has been good until now, you can never be sure about the future. “Hey, why are you tying me up again?” Raphael asked. “I didn’t tie you up during Christmas,” You clarified. “You know what I mean.” “I feel more comfortable like this, don’t want to?” Your eyes stared into his coldly, showing that you ain’t up for games. He wanted to protest further, however the thought of you leaving him like that was something he couldn’t make peace with. Not after all the efforts he went through to find you. He went quiet again until you were done binding him.

Next thing you did was pulling out the rather familiar ball gag, about to install it onto him again. The angel widened his eyes, were you planning to recreate the past with all those equipments or what? Did you pity the fact you couldn’t do more? When you brought the gag closer to his face, he reluctantly opened his mouth, letting you bind the straps around his head. After gaging him successfully, you pulled out a cutter knife, bringing it to his neck. His pupils shrunk, he glared at you menacingly. You dragged the knife along his neck, taking note of how his breath got more and more shallow with each passing second. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you.” Yea, so reassuring, he feels so safe.

You grabbed his collar and pointed the sharp edge towards his shirt, afterwards you cut into his sweater. The knife was sharp enough to cut through the fairly thick fabric pretty easily. From the top to the bottom, until you split his clothes in two. He hold his breath the entire time, which was weird since normally he didn’t fear death nor wounds. A little blood was fine and he can take the pain, so why was he so nervous? It must be because of how stoic you were. You looked so chill and serious while you tore his clothes, keeping your attention on him and no one else. It’s the first time someone was focused on him like this, it was almost embarrassing, but he didn’t dislike it.

But you were thinking about how naive and cute he was, all you did was look at him for a few seconds and now his heart was pounding like crazy. It was way too easy to wrap him around your finger. Angels truly are useless and pitiful things. After you finished cutting through his clothes, you put the knife away. You only cut it in the middle, so that they were hanging from his shoulder like jackets. Since they were cut now, it revealed his bare torso. This is the third time that you’ve seen him in such a state. Those accessories he wore didn’t change one bit, still sparkling on their own. At this rate you were going to mesmerise every single one of them. Two vertical nipple piercings, two just below his chest, two on his navel which were connected by a chain, three belly button piercings and three rings a fairly large distance under his armpits on each side. He also had more, like two on his hips or some on his arms, but you weren’t entirely sure about it. Nevertheless you liked his piercings for many reasons.

This time you were better prepared for his sudden visit, so you had a whole bag full of stuff you wanted to try with him. The first one of those toys was a sounding rod, the same one he seemingly loved during Christmas Eve. Your hand made its way downwards and started rubbing against his bulge, gently caressing it until he got hard. Out of reflex he clenched his thighs, causing you to force them open to kept touching him. Small sounds of pleasure could be heard from him as he whimpered under the gag. “Mhm..mhm!” Those were only low grunts, you could see how he tired to keep his composure as long as possible. Next you pulled his pants down, revealing his semi erect dick. He was so eager it made you want to laugh, you didn’t even touch him that much but he still got hard. It was pathetic.

You took the metal rod and pointed the tip towards his slit before slowly inserting it. It hurt so much while you did it, it was unbearably painful. He wanted to move and clench his legs together again but you didn’t allow him, instead you said, “spread them wider, or I might pierce something I should’t.” With such a warning, he had no choice but to open them, reluctantly allowing you to play with him some more. His legs were trembling again as you forced the entire rod inside his urethra, tears started to build in his eyes. That was a bodily reaction to the sting and pain, since the metal wasn’t even wet when you shoved it inside him. “Hmm.. hgnG..” he yelped a little and jerked his hips, trusting forward. There was no helping it, it was so painful… yet why was he so aroused now?

After using that, you reached for another one of your toys, an egg vibrator. You strapped it against his tip, but didn’t turn it on yet. It was still the preparation process. Which is why you put one of the egg vibrator inside a condom, then pulled that over a dildo. This time you did reach for the lube, out of your own comfort, since the things you want to do will be harder without it. Squeezing some of that liquid onto the makeshift dick and pointing the tip against his entrance. The Blondie was on the verge of clenching his thighs together again, it took all his willpower not to. He was fearful of your treatment, however also thrilled. It’s like he loves and hates it, but most importantly he wants you to keep your attention on him. Don’t leave like last time, please don’t leave him alone.

While you were teasing his hole, you glanced at his figure. What he did was unbelievably adorable. How he made himself smaller by rolling into a ball, so helpless and vulnerable it got you acting on your desires. You did cover that toy with lube, but you didn’t prepare him. Instead you pushed and used your strength to force your way in again. “MhmMHH!!” Another scream. “Don’t be so tense, Raphael, it will only hurt more.” You gave him some advice, even though you were sure he knew himself. His chest raised and sunk, his breathing unsteady and eyes unfocused. Those almost emotionless eyes were half lidded and hidden by his bangs. This pulled your attention towards his bandages, especially that eye patch. You were going to rip it from his face one day.

His hands clenched around the rope you used to tie him up, legs wide open like he was some cheap whore and single drops of tears rolling down his face. The halo, which hasn’t been doing much until now, suddenly started to shine as if it was trying to distract you. You didn’t really mind at first, but the more you pushed that toy inside him, the more that ring of pure light shone. When the dildo fully penetrated him, his halo, that divine Symbole, was already illuminating the entire room. No need to say it blinded and annoyed you, leading to you hesitantly reached out to that thing. You touched it with the tip of your finger to make sure it wasn’t dangerous, before gripping it with your whole palm and yanking it off him. That wasn’t exactly hard to do, which kind of surprised you. You had an angels halo in your hand now… and it was still shining, which is why you threw it away.

Raphael’s expression was one of shock. Of course it would be that, no one ever ripped his halo off and he didn’t neither. It didn’t hurt, though it did feel like something disappeared from him, and his body got lighter. Well, all you did was throw it into another corner, so he can probably just pick it up later…right? Somehow, he was starting to get an unwell feeling about this, he was skeptical. He wanted to tell you how he felt about what you did or were doing, despite his wants he couldn’t, he couldn’t bring it over himself to tell you no. Besides this is nothing, he can bear it, all he had to do was to focus on you and pleasing you, then you’ll also keep your gaze on him. An eye for an eye right?

Everything was done now, your preparations were complete. You turned the vibrators on, directly skipping to the middle level. The eggs started to move and were rubbing against him. Even though he expected it made his shoulders jerk and dick twitch, it was still so sudden. One was placed on his tip and another deep inside him. “Hu-hmm…mhm.” Raphael panted. How amazing it felt at first, but the sensations and blood rush was becoming too much for him to handle. All you did was observe him for a few moments, then giving the relentless toys assaulting him a helping hand. Trusting the dildo in and out of him, other hand tugging at his piercings, mouth kissing his neck and eventually biting down. “NGhHnn… m-mhm..!” He sobbed a little when he felt your teeth sink into his skin. You bit hard enough to draw blood, and when you pulled back you were able to see the blood flowing down his shoulder to his collarbones and chest. The red fluid was giving a nice contrast to his smooth and pale skin, as if you were drawing on a white canvas. This was starting to stir something within you, out of impulse you used your finger to wipe the blood, then licking it clean with your tongue.

You bit him again and again, the area around his nipples, his other shoulder, his torso or abdomen. When you were done leaving bite or smooch marks on his upper body, you started kissing every of his wounds. Like his piercings or the ones you left on him. The vibe changed drastically, it felt soft and gentle in contrast to what you were doing earlier, making his heart pound faster. “Hmm…” a low content groan left him. What you did felt like it was forbidden to him, it felt like something two lovers would do. How he yearned for that, for any kind of love and touch this depraved man could get. At the same time he was so ashamed of his actions, how could- dare he enjoy the touch of someone who isn’t god? How could he even think about being in a relationship with anyone but god?

The vibrations were adding up with each other, especially the one on his tip. It was starting to hurt because of how sensitive he was. “Uhh..hu-ugh..” Once again he repressed his own feelings in order to keep you here with him. This however resulted in some squirming and trashing around to balance the pain. He rolled from one side to the other, irritating you a little. “Raphael, hold still.” You commanded, but he couldn’t listen, it’s like his body doesn’t want to follow him anymore. “MhHmm..! HmMm..” “Raphael.” You repeated his name, nothing happened. A silent minute passed, with his whines being the only thing that filled the room. Why was he acting up suddenly? Even though you tried to calm him down, he continued kicking around like he was riding the bike. Then you slapped him.

A loud sound erupted in the mists of complete silence, his face turned to the left side and an imprint of your hand started to show on his cheeks. “Uhh..!” He could still feel the sting of the moment you hit him, the aftermath also lingering for a few extra seconds. Eyes widened once again, a speechless expression featured on his face as he glanced at you. Another slap, this time his face turned to the right side. You haven’t uttered a single word yet, but you let out a deep breath. A few moments of silence again, now his eyes were completely hidden by his bangs, you couldn’t tell what he was looking at. What a coward, hiding his gaze like that, it was staring to get on your wrong side.

You punched his stomach, making the angel gag. It didn’t hurt that much, aside from the fact he felt like the food he ate was being forced out of him. For you though, it didn’t quench your anger, instead you were more annoyed now because the piercings he owned were in your way. You grabbed the chain and yanked on it hard, he yelled which was muffled by the gag again. “MhmmM!” You pulled on it again, now blood was dripping from where he pierced them. He moved his body, trying to escape before he froze on the spot. As if a hidden force was hindering him from just running away. And you tugged at it a third time, this time you managed to pull the entire chain off, running his piercing. “GaHHhh!! MHmMM!!” It hurt, it hurt so much and yet he still weren’t able to get on his feet. Was this some kind of trial god gave him?!?

A bit of his skin was stuck to the accessory, with that being said it got ripped off too. He was bleeding from his navel now, and that wasn’t exactly a small amount. It spilled down from all sides, turning his body and the bed red. “Uh-UhmM..!” A shudder ran down his spine at the sight of it, he was always covered in blood but never his own. His eye brows furrowed and pupils quivered, a small blush spread across his face. This was new, and arousing to some degree. It made him forget about the pain completely.

You took a look at the chain and threw it away, it looked disgusting all covered in blood and skin pieces. Also since the bed was red now you didn’t want to sit on it, instead standing up and stepping on his belly. “Huh, you are bleeding a lot more than I thought. It’s my first time I hurt someone to this degree.” Were you truly human? You said it’s your first time, but you looked so used to seeing blood, you didn’t even get nauseous from the look of it. He didn’t know what to do, all that happened was a deep blush forming on his cheeks, tears flowing down his face and blood storming through his new wounds.

You used more force to step on him, digging your shoe into his skin. The dirt which collected itself under your soles were now smeared onto his once beautiful skin. The imprint of your shoe looked nice on his helpless figure, just like the other marks you left on him. Then you started to raise your foot and stomp on him, enough for him to get the urge to vomit. “Ugh- ga-hghn…!” But the gag is in the way, if this continues he will just chock on his own vomit. He clenched his eyes, focusing on forcing it down. Of course that didn’t go unnoticed, you didn’t give him permission to close his eyes now did you? This led to you kicking the side of his head fairly gently, before stepping on his cheek. “Don’t pass out, I’m not done yet. The fun just began.” You smirked at him while you said that. A unsettling one at that, you could basically see the bad intention in it. Your expression just screamed ‘sadist’.

Finally you took the ball gag off him, he gasped and panted loudly. It didn’t take long for him to start chocking again due to you stomping on his stomach repeatedly. More tears spilled from him, his body wasn’t reacting well to your treatment. Why, was it because you were a human? He yanked on his binds, wanted to use his hand to cover his mouth. It was of no use, he was worn out now after such a long session. He couldn’t hold it back anymore and threw up all over himself. His entire figure was pulsating, lips quivering as he sobbed, then another round. This time it wasn’t just vomit but also blood. “Ah- urghh.. gahhh..” This was a huge burden on his body, making him nauseous and dizzy.

Your heart was beating fast, you wondered if sitri has located you yet with such a loud heartbeat. His pathetic face and posture was surprisingly beautiful, it felt so good watching him crumble underneath your feet. Rendering him powerless and dependent on your mercy felt great… how good would it feel if this was Gabriel instead who was suffering? The one responsible for your misery, to see him completely destroyed just like this. It sounded too delicious, so good you couldn’t keep a clear head anymore. You couldn’t help yourself! It’s his fault that he is an angel, it’s his fault he is of the same breed as Gabriel! You kicked him and kicked him again, bruising his body all while smiling with a content face. Swellings and dark spots were forming on that once flawless body. The more your view got blurred by red, the more you couldn’t separate him from your hatred. Oh well, you never claimed you were innocent anyway.

The beatings continued for some minutes, paired with random insults you wanted to throw at Gabriel. Looks like your anger got to your head. “Fucking whore, you think you are so much better than everyone else? You damn disgrace to your own race. God disappeared because of useless insects like you..!” Another kick, then you stomped on his chest, “fuck, I hate you Gabriel I hate you. It’s all your fault I’m like this, damn it.”

After calming down from your sudden outburst, you panted heavily. Now this was what you needed, a punching bag to vent your anger to. Your eyes fixated on him and only him, anything else didn’t matter anymore. Maybe you’ll get a complaint from the owner, but what are they gonna do, you were way more important than them.

Even though the ball gag wasn’t there anymore the angel beneath you didn’t scream a single time, the vibrators also weren’t turned off. All he did was gasp or whine while crying quietly. “Hic… hah..ha-haaa…” He didn’t cry due to the pain and torture, it was something else not even he understood. He smiled as he cried, watching you being so fixated on him you almost forgot to breath. His body looked like a war, or as if he tripped over paint with how many blue, purple or brown spots were spread on his skin. Not to mention all that red, even the tips of his once blond hair were dyed crimson now. The overwhelming smell of blood was filling your nostrils. Normally you weren’t a fan of that, however right now it didn’t bother you.

His wrists has bruises from the binds, his legs still twitched once in a while because of the toys and his stomach looked disturbing. As mentioned beforehand, bruises, bites and blood were present, also his vomit and cum made itself clear. There were other unidentified things mixed up in that toxic venom too, maybe some dirt and sweat. You didn’t care enough to try to figure it out though. It was damn disgusting how everything dripped down his body onto the mattress, and the smell was starting to get overwhelming. Not because of the blood but the other things. Nevertheless it felt good, knowing you’ll be the fall of him.

In the midst of this messy, unorganised situation, you hugged him. Currently unbothered by the fact that all the dirt and filth will get on your clothes too. You finally turned off the vibrators and took the toys out of him, an inaudible moan slipped from his lips as you did that. “Ah-..hng…” his wrists were bound together, but he was still able to move them, so he wrapped his arms around your neck. Raphael was holding onto you so tightly it was addictive. How would he react if you suddenly left like last time? Would he cry out in despair? Ah, that face must be really pretty…

He tried to hug you even tighter, probably using all his strength, despite that fact it felt like nothing. You really wore him out, enough for a seraphim to become this inexcusable disgrace. It must have been the stress building up inside you for the past few months, the stress of dealing with your harsh reality which led you to do such inhuman things to him. Who cares though, you were in hell already you can’t fall even deeper.

How he clung to you so desperately, how he whispered your name with that meek voice of his, it made you want to ruin him more. You cupped his cheeks, and pulled his eyepatch down. His hidden eye was a little bruised, maybe from a fight otherwise nothing special. How you wanted to pluck his eyeballs, they were so pretty after all. Raphael looked up at you with big eyes and shaky breath, as if he was expecting something. You kissed his forehead gently and slowly made your way over to his earlobes, now licking them with your tongue. The angel still had that pink blush covering his face as he enjoyed the first fluff moment he received since his creation, shuddering a tiny bit whenever you touched or caressed him. Then you whispered:

“you are so miserable it’s funny.” He didn’t have the strength to really answer you, so he just turned his head towards you. The confusion in his eyes were really noticeable. “Angels are so delusional and depraved, I have to hold back my laughter.” After saying that, you chuckled into his ear, “you’re such a crude and vulgar being, at this point I don’t even think you qualify as an angel. If there anything about you that says ‘graceful’ and ‘divine’? I think not judging by the state you are in.” You made sure to take little break between each sentence, so that he had time registering what you said. In the meantime you’d blow hot air against his ears. “Not even god wants you, you are a mistake, a flaw that shouldn’t exist.” He tensed up after hearing all that, shoulders now raised to his ears. You were clearly degrading him and making fun of him, so why was he so dazzled by your voice? As if you were hypnotising him, is there anything he could do in this situation?

“Don’t even try to hide it, you are unwanted. Isn’t it such an honour that I’m still willing to spend my precious time with you?” You said, still grinning from ear to ear. Then you used your fingers to force his eye open, whispering agin, “Hey, Raphael, you don’t deserve happiness. Please be unhappy a lot, so that I can be happy.”

“…what?” He seemed a bit confused, clearly finding it hard to come to terms with what you said. How could he anyway? He really didn’t want to believe your words, yet they sounded like a prayer, like a prophesy that was deciding over his fate. “You are all alone with no one to depend on. You are disposable and worthless. I’m the only one you have.” It felt like needled were poking at his heart, no, they were stabbing it. His head was empty, only the words you uttered were ringing in his ears. “Why don’t you come down to hell, heaven is too good for you. You don’t deserve that, just like how you don’t deserve your position.” Your voice was calm the entire time, though it somewhat drifted into being exited. Raphael thought about it and asked in a weak voice, “what is it you want me to do…?” “Your wings, I want them. Show me your wings.”

“…” silence. He didn’t hear anything. Then a beeping noise rang in his ears, unwilling to leave him alone. “Ah, ah.. ugh- ah, hah..haha…” he laughed. His body shook as he did. All he thought was, ‘god, what should I do?’ A wave of nausea washed over him, as if his brain was being cooked. “That’s sick, you know the wings are an angels pride? It’s a gift from our beloved god!” “Exactly, you don’t really deserve that now do you?” Ah… does he really have to answer that question? You knew the answer to it anyway. His heartbeat went faster, the urge to puke came back and he felt sick. He felt horrible, downright awful. It was becoming unbearable, that empty void he tried so hard to escape from, that he desperately tried to fill was eating him alive from the inside. He was so deep in thought so that saliva was running down his chin again, adding onto the turmoil.

You hugged him tighter, whispering in a low voice again, “poor thing, such a pitiful thing you are. It’s better to be at rock bottom than fighting for something you’ll never have. Even if god comes back he wouldn’t look at you, you are way too insignificant.” You caressed his cheeks again, showing him a comforting smile which hid your internal motives. “Shut up..” he trembled, “shut up, shut up, please, shut up… stop, stop it- please, stop, stop, stop it…!” He clawed at your shirt, making himself even smaller and curling into a ball.

It was too much. He doesn’t want this anymore. The best would be if he couldn’t feel and think, if he didn’t need to do anything. All he wanted now was to live comfortably, and the only comfort he could find was arching in pain by your hands, while being comforted by the same ones. You were filling that void inside him with poison, and he’d gladly eat every last drop.

Slowly he spread his wings, two pure white things appeared from his back and white feathers started flying around the room. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, something he was never done with anyone before. Hah, he has never even hugged anyone until now. You reached for his wings, rubbing the base and wrapping your hand around his wing bones, the other one was stroking his hair. How did Michael rip those off so easily? Doesn’t matter, you don’t have to make it pretty. While Raphael clung to you like his life depended on it, you brushed your fingertips over his soft feathers. They really are too good for him, maybe you’ll try and get a clean cut to gift them to andrealphus. He’d love them.

Suddenly something snapped, you could feel it due to the shift of strength. He bit down on your shoulder even more, enough to leave a mark on you too. The most of his voice got muffled by your shoulder. His on the other hand convulsed and trembled. Ah.. it hurts, it hurts.. but it’s worth it, it’s worth it, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Easier than expected.” You muttered under your breath. It was impossible to pull the entire wing and bones off, which is why you had to break the bones. Raphael was still clenching his teeth and bearing the pain while you started to work on the second one. At this point your hands were completely red, the feathers were also tainted red. More blood stormed out from the newly opened wound, it made everything even more chaotic and bloody than it already was. His shirt, which you cut open earlier, was also no longer white. He was covered in red from head to toes.

The second time went a bit better than the first, because now you had ‘experience’. It was fun. The sound of bone shattering and breaking, the feeling of flesh tearing from under your palms and seeing how much you could do with your own hands. A soft and gentle smile made itself apparent across your face. Raphael screamed in agony, crying, shaking and smiling as he did. He doesn’t even know why he is smiling. Has he finally lost his mind? It’s not a bad feeling, but it is confusing. Haha.

Now that you took everything from him he looked no different than a normal human. Or rather like a hurt animal depending on you. At the rate he was bleeding, he was going to bleed out, yet all you two did was hug each other for different reasons. Somehow both of you didn’t care, you only assured him with, ‘I’ll take you to lucifer’s hospital after this,’ as you kept fumbling with his now red hair. It’s the first time you ever got to enjoy yourself like this, you weren’t going to ever let him go now. Who knows, next time it might be Gabriel whose wings you are holding in your palms. After all, it’s not enough to just keep the bird in a cage, you need to break its wings and keep it shackled, only then it will truly belong to you.

[zetomato]

Brand New One (rant)

I need to understand something so I really want people to answer and tell me because I know my viewpoint on the QSMP cannot physically be perfect and whole.

I haven’t watched any POV in a few days (Due to being sick af, lel) but I’m hearing more and more confusing things coming from this fandom. I’ll point out some of them and hope people will explain more points of view to clear up the extremely confusing situations. (While tagging this neg because I don't want this on main for peeps trying to chill)

Ok so we can all agree that it’s impossible to watch everyone’s POV. Just taking the more active streamers gives you over 9h/day to watch, taking into account that they often are live at the same time and you get already more than anyone should watch their screens in a day (I say that as a Graphic Designer, I keep watching screens, that’s my job). Add everyone else and you got easily over 20h/day. So yeah, for viewers, that’s intense. So it’s even more impossible for streamers since, well, they have to plan their streams and… stream.

Good.

So why are people mad at Philza for not knowing Tubbo lore that happened while he wasn’t on the server, some even when he was streaming something else? I know that there’s always that weird moment when something happens for the character you main and then you switch POV and the information doesn’t line up, but why is it expected? Getting super into a storyline is incredible, it’s nice, it’s saying how immersive someone’s RP and storytelling is, how much it resonates with you. But this is live RP, not a script. People will read tones wrong, mishear/misunderstand, make mistakes, talk at the wrong time, mess with friends, have the wrong timing. A bunch of weird stuff will happen.

None of them are doing this out of spite, hell, they are making a point to make sure everyone is included and supported and they have ways to talk to each other when there’s a problem. The ones I know of who do chat with others/in other’s chat are Phil, Tubbo, Cellbit and Etoiles. (there are way more, those are the ones I saw do it/heard say it)

Then there’s the question of doing a critique of the CC’s under the guise of “Oh it’s about the character!”

Yes, QSMP and RP servers in generals bring you HARD into a story to the point sometimes things are hard to differentiate. I’ve reread books and got confused about something before I realized that they were headcanon things I grabbed from fanfics and not canon book events. But some of y’all need to step back. I saw people doing critiques of someone’s laugh or gesture or playstyle under the “Q!” excuse. These are real people, y’all. A CC not reading the room, Tubbo talking loudly over Bagi because he didn’t notice the situation and adjusting when told, Philza not immediately getting that Tubbo’s death was his canon last one and then adjusting to follow the mood. There’s been dozens of those situations since the start of the server, there will be a dozen more.

The players can deal with those situations themselves, they are adults, but I’ve seen some people on here getting weird information and spreading even weirder gossip about a character being mean/rude/an ass when they’re sharing friendly banter or just, not immediately getting a joke or an important moment.

No, Tubbo was not planning on talking over Bagi, he had a lot to say and didn’t notice everything.

No, Phil was not ignoring Tubbo’s lore, he was unaware this death was canon and did not watch a stream while he was already streaming.

People are people. CCs play Characters and aren’t professional actors with scripts. They chill in each other's chats sometimes.

Can we now play nice and take a chill pill about streamers being mean and heartless?

[avkima]

~invisible strings:jamie flattersxreader~

Chapter 1

Summary: after Bailey drags Reider (reader) to meet Britain’s friends for a little hangout a quick bond is formed between her and Jamie. Doesn’t matter though, she’s so in the friend zone. P.S summary will change chapter to chapter as new info is given

tags:friend groups, Bailey Bass is your bff, Avatar cast, Sam and Zoe are your parents simply because they can be, fluff, friends to lovers, angst, love triangle if you squint, unrequited love but it’s really not, closed door smut. Stay tuned for some Easter eggs of secret characters and plot lines.

wc: 1.2k

tag list↯

@neteyams-wh0re

💌💌💌💌

truly don’t think I’ve lived before I found you.

But it was always meant to be

I never saw the world until I looked into your deep brown eyes.

You were there in the little things, but how had our paths never crossed?

I never felt alive until I felt your touch.

As a connected duet we preform this experience together.

I wish to dance with you forever.

For eternity—

Not just till death do us part.

-jamie flatters

* “Shall I compare the to a summers day?”

“I’m more of a fall to be honest”

——————

I really needed to get out of my dorm. Or at least that’s what Bailey had been telling me when she caught me talking to myself while folding laundry. She would barge in unannounced when she felt the need. Today I had been home alone all day so ranting to myself about horrible Professor Quaritch was inevitable.

“I was winning an argument—now I’m off track” I glance at her as she strolls in.

“Oh my apologies weirdo.” She sits down next to me and begins folding too, “Have you been in here all day? It looks spotless!”

My tiny 250 square foot dorm could be cleaned top to bottom in an hour if I was being a perfectionist about it—or I had neglected it that week. But I wasn’t about to go through my whole list of antisocial activities which only included an hour or two of actual school work.

“Yeah mostly, that and Gilmore Girls”

“You live like you have no friends”

I chuckled, “I live like an introvert who has been with her friends all week!”

She frowned.

Bailey was the most bubbly extrovert I’ve met. Most of the time she was very understanding of our opposing personalities but to be honest I think she saw I was more in the dumps than I was letting on.

“Come on, you need to get your mind off of Chris and have some fun tonight!” Bailey gets a twinkle in her eyes, a plan is forming as she pulls me off of the beige couch. “It’s party time!”

I groan “I’m all for a little get together but I don’t know if I’m party ready.” Bailey tugs on my arms back and forth to get me to dance with her.

“Britain invited some of his friends and the group to his apartment. It’s gonna be like so chill, I promise no more than like 7 people.”

I frown, mulling over how truthful that statement really was and how uncomfortable I would be if it truly was a party.

She notices I haven’t exactly been won over and back tracks. “I said party but I didn’t really mean party. It’s so casual and you know me, you know Britain, and you know Jack.” She meets my eyes for the selling point blinking her big green eyes “plenty of people to hide behind.”

I sigh. I hadn’t met any of Britain’s friends but I knew Bailey hangs with them too so they couldn’t be too bad. If anything I can just be introduced and then let Bailey and Jack do all the talking.

“Ok sure.”

“Yay! We can bring drinks, our wine is gonna go bad soon.”

>——————>

October In LA proved to be colder than I usually is. I regretted my sleeveless top but the jeans made up for it. With some chilled Merlot and some odd white claws or two in tow me and Bailey headed out to Britains apartment just off of 110 not far from campus. The smooth car ride in Bailey’s Camry proved useful for my mascara application. She had mentioned some of her boyfriend’s friends were single and encouraged me to at least get out of my sweat pants. I wasn’t getting my hopes up but I guess I was expecting something…maybe.

Britain’s apartment always smelled like something was cooking even when there was no food in the house. Tonight it smelled like burnt…toast?

Bailey scrunches her nose upon entering, “What did you burn?”. She asked Britain who opened the door for us.

“Popcorn.” He kisses her cheek and takes the drinks to the kitchen. “At least we have these” he tosses the bag of popcorn into the trash and takes some plastic cups out of the cabinet.

We set our bags down on the couch and look around at the seemingly empty apartment.

“Where are the boys?” Bailey asks, stepping closer to me. I know what she’s doing.

“Not sure actually,” he looks towards the hallway that led to his and his two roommates rooms. “Party’s here bros!”

My stomach flipped as a guy emerged from the hall, thankfully followed by Jack.

Jack greeted me with a smile and hug, “hey bro.”

The other guy he was with looked pretty friendly, a big smile on his face as he introduced himself. “Hey I’m Duane.”

“Reide.” I smile and shake his hand.

Britain calls out for ‘Filip and Jamie’ who we could hear laughing in one of the bedrooms down the hallway while we had been making our introductions.

One Filip and Jamie come walking down the hall—though I do not know which is which. They were still chuckling to each other from their conversation.

Bailey linked arms, probably trying to ground me with all these new people…new boys.

“So this is Jamie,” she gestures to the brunette with the sharper features who also seemed to be a few inches shorter than “and this is Filip.”

“this is Reider.” She finishes

“Everyone just calls me ‘Re or Reide.” I smile at them giving him my best attempt at confidence.

“Good to see you Reide.” Filip says he seems less chummy with me but this almost gives me more solidarity with him.

Jamie’s eyes catch my attention. They are blue or maybe hazel. The apartment lighting is still enough to see that he’s pretty. One of the hotter guys I’ve ever seen on campus.

“That’s a pretty name, ‘Reide.” He shakes my hand.

My flick wider and my cheeks grow hot.

He’s fucking British.

“Oh wow you have an accent.” Shove my hands in my back pocket, again posing myself as confident to make up for how frocking nervous I was to be talking to a cute boy.

“Yeah I’m from London.” His smile tells me he’s had this conversation a lot.

I panic a bit, not knowing whether he rather me just move on from his Britishness or if it would be rude to be so disinterested.

Bailey comes in to save me. “Well Britain burnt the single snack he had so is anyone up for a snack run?”

We all agreed the night would end in a movie and some games as we piled into Duane’s van.

He graciously offered to drive us to Walmart. Jack jumped in the passenger seat and immediately grabbed the auxcord.

The seating arrangement left me sitting in the middle of Jamie and Bailey. He smelled good though like cinnamon, vanilla and maybe pine. I hoped I smelled good, seeing as my body was so close to his. He was even cuter up close.

Jack started playing Get Him Back by Olivia Rodrigo and from there the chaos sprung. The boys belted the lyrics as if they had just been through some gut wrenching break up with their gaslighting boyfriend.

I giggled with Bailey, content. They seemed pretty cool but the night has just begun.

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

The Lack of Kenergy

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 610

Summary: Dieter is upset over the results of the 96th Academy Awards. Sorry to people who liked Oppenheimer, it was a good movie, but it wasn’t my favourite film of the year.

Warnings: opinions on films that you may not agree with, two people who are in love but also really horny for each other so lots of saucy suggestions!

Check out masterlist here

It was night and you were in bed reading a book.

Alone.

There was a severe lack of Dieter in bed. You were so used to the blanket of his body warmth you almost felt a little cold.

You knew the Academy Awards were on in the afternoon, so he was probably watching that. Normally, neither of you cared much about them but this year his favourite film Barbie had been nominated and he greatly cared about it and wanted to know whether it had won anything.

Eventually, he walked into the bedroom with such a glum look on his face. He fell onto the bed face down and gave out a whine much in the way an upset puppy would.

You couldn’t help but stroke his hair sympathetically, “Dieter, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t hear his mumble, so you nudged him to sit up.

“Barbie didn’t win Best Picture.”

“Oh, so that’s what you were up to,” he nodded. “So who won?”

“Oppenheimer.”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course they did.”

He turned to face you, “They won way too many awards.”

“Did they win Best Costume?”

“No, that went to Poor Things.”

“Oh good, I liked those costumes.”

“Yeah they were, but Barbie went through years of doll history to recreate several outfits for every character and so much thought was put into them.”

“Sounds like they were snubbed a bit.”

“They did win Best Song.”

“I’m Just Ken?”

“No, What Was I Made For.”

“Well, at least it won something.”

Dieter sighed, “Yeah but it deserved more. Honestly, I didn’t think Oppenheimer was as amazing as everyone made it out to be.”

“Yeah, personally I thought it was a bit long and the fast-paced editing left me with anxiety.” He gave you a concerning look, but you shrugged it off. “But what do you expect? It ticked all the boxes; it’s a film about a prominent American figure of history.”

Dieter scoffed, “Barbie is a prominent figure of American history.”

“It’s a film about mans role in the world.”

“Barbie did that too, but with more humour and an awesome musical number.”

You sighed, “It’s a film that people will talk about for years to come.”

“I think people will talk about Barbie far longer as it speaks to a wider array of people.”

“Oh, but you forget that Oppenheimer was written and directed by men and the judging is mostly white men. They’ll say it’s the most important film of the year.”

“Yeah, for white men it is. Ugh, it’s all a dick competition with them.”

“Wouldn’t you win that every time?”

“Yeah, but then it’ll bruise there fragile egos. That’s why I stopped dating men.” He snuggled close to you. “In fact, I’d given up on dating and accepted the fact that I was doomed to die alone. But then you had to go and ruin those plans.”

“Oh? How am I going to be punished?”

“Well, for starters,” he sat up so he was sitting right next to you. “I’m going to marry you. Then you’ll be stuck with me for all eternity.”

“For all eternity?”

“Do you think death is going to keep us apart?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “That’s not going to happen for…how long now?”

“Six months and 21 days,” he said that without having to think about it.

“So what about in the meantime?”

“Oh,” he kissed your neck. “I’m thinking the blindfold, if you want?”

Giving a tiny nod of consent, you asked, “Can I rant about the lack of nominations for female directors?”

“Will this include Greta Gerwigs snub and the double standards?” You nodded. “Oh absolutely.”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic @glshmbl @cupcakehp @gswizzsstuff

[lemonyama]

HELLO GUYS…. I’m back ermm sorry I forgot i had tumblr but I actually plan to post here more….. I say that everytime BUT I SWEAR…. maybe. I’ve seriously been trying to figure out where I want to post, and MOSTLY post my art. I was a tiktok poster, but that wasn’t my thing. Mostly because of the fact how awful the art community is on tiktok. I think we all know, then I went to instagram. And as soon as I did it came out our art was going to be used for AI. which I do not support, and don’t want my art involved in. SO! I believe i’ll be here now. It’s the best i’ve come up with, but yet again i’m still new! So I don’t know much about tumblr… Bear with me please 💔 I’ve ranted enough, I’ll be posting my art here now! Currently extremely interested in the Royale High campus 2 butlers so…. that’s a warning how much i’m gonna post about them 😭 AGAIN, IVE RANTED ENOUGH, if you seriously read all of this I love you. and if you didn’t I also still love you, okay here’s some tags to explain my interests and what i’ll be posting, also will be making a new pinned post, with my straw and carrd! <3

[littlemissaddict]

Simply Meant To Be - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

So I started this before Christmas while watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and had planned to have this up New Years Eve but as usual I'm late. This is such a self indulgent fic and there is no real plot to it other than me wanting my own Sally/Jack moment but this is the only way I'm going to get it so I hope you guys enjoy it just as much.

Word Count: 2621

She'd begun to wish she'd never even brought up the idea of the stupid New Years Eve party. Normally Eddie was all for them knowing he'd make a bit of extra cash in his dealings that would mean he wouldn't have to ask Wayne for the cash just to be able to fill his gas tank, which Wayne was more than happy to do, it was just Eddie hated asking as he knew he struggled to get by as it was.

"I just don't understand why someone is throwing a fancy dress party in December, it's not fucking Halloween" he ranted, not taking his eyes off the joint he was rolling although she wasn't sure if it was really the party bothering him or the fact she suggested they go as Jack and Sally. Which had been slightly selfish on her part as she hoped to have her own 'Simply meant to be' moment like the one at the end of the movie but that was just wishful thinking going on Eddie's reaction.

She sighed knowing it wasn't going to happen, "tis fine Eds you don't have to come, I'll just tag along with Steve and Robin" she told him, accepting defeat and trying to change the subject as they were supposed to be hanging out and a grumpy Eddie was no fun.

“So you're still going ahead with this then?” Robin asked.

It was the night of the party and Robin had come to hers to get ready, then Steve would be picking them up at 7. It had been a couple of days later when Robin had asked if she was still going that she spilled about the incident with Eddie and his outburst at her suggestion.

“It's the only costume I have, seeing as I presumed Eddie would at least pretend to be as excited about this as me, seeing as he knows it's my favourite movie” she told Robin, and while it wasn't a lie that she'd only bought this costume even though she'd had plenty of time since his rejection to get another one, part of her hoped that he would come around to the idea.

“You could always join me and Steve” Robin offered her a small smile, “You can never have too many Men In Black” she added, hoping to lift her mood.

She stared at the dress hung up on her closet door, the beautiful patchwork that was Sally's dress and made up her mind. “Thanks for the offer but this is what I want, even in spite of Eddie” she smiled, resolution clear in her tone as she made for her make up set on the dressing table. Robin watched as she turned herself into the character, forgoing the blue skin as they had left it too late to start getting ready and the both knew Steve would get impatient about having to wait for them.

“Looking good, ladies”

It was about half an hour later when the sound of Steve’s voice from her bedroom door startled them both, thankfully they were both suitably dressed and he hadn’t walked in on either one of them changing as she doesn’t think either of the three of them could have dealt with the outcome of that.

“Your mom let me in” he shrugs in explanation to his sudden appearance as they both glare at him for the scare he just gave them, wandering into the room and peering around as if it was the first time he’d been there. It wasn’t. “Oh come on, don’t look at me like that, we're going to a party it’s supposed to be fun” he says exaggeratedly, acknowledging the looks the two of them were sharing between themselves. “There'll be no grumps tonight or I ain’t taking either of you” he adds, causing her to scoff and mumble to herself.

“Yeah that’s why Eddie’s not here” she repeats a little louder this time at Steve’s request as both he and Robin missed her the first time.

“Yeah, yeah I heard all about ‘Mr I’m Too Good For Fancy Dress’ now let’s get going” he urges, pulling out his sunglasses and putting them on even though there was no possible way he could see with them on.

“I’m gonna walk if you plan on driving in those” Robin threatens as they follow him down the stairs.

Her mother calls to them as they reach the hallway, making for the door, telling them to have a good time but to be safe. She also reminds Steve of her curfew, making it his responsibility to have her home on time and Steve, being Steve, can’t refuse her not for fear of making it into her bad books. The scene in front of them has her and Robin holding back laughter as Steve reassures her that he'll have you home on time and not a minute later.

“Kiss ass” Robin says between bursts of laughter as soon as the car doors shut behind the three of them and she can't help but join in.

Steve spits out protests to the statement, his face beet red as she leans across from the back seat to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Don't worry Steve, you can do no wrong in her eyes, hell she'd probably even let you get away with murder” she jokes, unable to resist the urge to tease him a little bit more and this time he realises what they're doing, brushing off their laughter at his expense and starting the car. “I'm serious though Steve, I swear my mom loves you more than me sometimes, you know after the first time you and Robin came around she asked me if we were dating” she revealed.

“I'm taking that this was before you and Eddie got together” Robin asks, interrupting her.

“Obviously, you know how much she adores him though” she smiles, they'd all seen the way her mom would fuss over Eddie whenever he came around, the same way she fussed over Steve, “she was so disappointed by the fact that you weren't going to be her possible future son in law, even tried to talk me into dating you and that was only after the first meeting” she adds, it was the first time she'd told either of them this, not that she’s purposely kept it a secret there just never seemed a reason to bring it up until now.

“You know there's still time to make me her future son in law” he smiles, catching her eye and winking at her in the rear view mirror.

She laughs in response, knowing that he was joking but Robin groans in protest as if thinking he was being serious. “God no, please don’t” she whines turning to face her in the back seat, “I love you both and I want you to be happy but I don’t wanna be a constant third wheel” she adds, a very serious look on her face.

“Chill out will you, I’m already taken and Steve doesn’t like me like that” she reminds her over dramatic friend as Steve agrees with her from the front. Robin sighs in relief as they pull up outside the house she assumes is their destination if the music booming from inside is anything to go by.

They make their way inside to an already crowded house and head straight to the kitchen to get a drink. Steve sticks with a soda as he’s the designated driver, since he’s the only one out of the three of them that actually has a licence, while Robin grabs two solo cups and fills them with the first thing she finds.

She takes the cup from Robin and hesitantly takes a sip, spluttering at what tastes like neat vodka. “Jeez Rob, did you actually put any mixer in this?” she asks, looking at the drink cluttered counter tops for coke, lemonade or anything to add to the alcohol.

With drinks in hand they made their way into the thick of the party, losing track of time and of how many drinks they’d had until half past eleven when the music was suddenly halted so that they could all be warned of the time. “C’mon let’s head outside, don't want to miss the fireworks” Robin urged tugging on her hand and weaving through the crowd towards the back door.

She cast a glance at Steve who merely shook his head, having had enough of their drunken antics even though she’d had nowhere near as much to drink as Robin and was only a little tipsy, yet he still followed them out to the back yard. They were the only ones out there, except a few stragglers who were either having a smoke or just escaping from the madness inside.

“You sure you want to wait another half an hour out here, it’s a little chilly” she asked, already feeling the goosebumps prickling along her skin and making her shiver after mere minutes in the cold December air.

“Sure as sure can be” Robin nodded vigorously, a little too excitedly as she unexpectedly reached out to grab her arms to steady herself and would have tipped the both of them over if Steve’s quick reactions hadn’t kept them on their feet.

“I’m gonna go get you some water just stay here” he told her with a shake of his head as he disappeared inside, leaving her with Robin who for some reason could not seem to keep still all of a sudden and she had no idea why.

The excitable jitters didn’t seem to stop once Steve was back with the water and she began to wonder if it was a way of keeping warm and she was tempted to join her until she felt the warmth of a jacket being wrapped around her shoulders. Turning she was met with Steve’s kind smile as she realised that it was his jacket, “M’not going to let you freeze out here just cause she’s too excited for the fireworks” he chuckled, nodding towards Robin who seemed to be in a world of her own as she scanned the backyard as if looking for someone though again she had no idea why until a figure walked into view from around the side of the house. A figure she’d recognise anywear, dressed in all black with wild curls.

Eddie.

As he came closer she could see what looked like white chalk marks running in stripes down his jeans and leather jacket, a jacket which underneath sported a white t-shirt and on his face the familiar markings of Jack Skellington. She couldn’t believe it, he decided to come albeit very late but he’d still shown in a matching costume for her.

Slipping Steve’s jacket from her shoulders, she thanked him again even if she’d only worn it for a short period of time as she made her way towards Eddie. As she came to a stop in front of him, he reached for her hands and started speaking before she had a chance and although it took her a minute to realise what he was doing when she did it had tears of joy filling her eyes that he was doing this for her.

“My dear friend, if you don’t mind,

I’d like to join you by your side,

Where we can gaze into the stars

And sit together, now and forever,

For it is plain to see,

We’re simply meant to be”

She joined him at the end, it was silly and sappy but god it was perfect. “I’m sorry I upset you, I didn’t realise how much you wanted to do this and if I did, I wouldn’t have hesitated to come” he told her afterwards.

“It’s okay Eddie I-” she was going to tell him that she forgave him but then it hit her, she hadn’t told him that he’d upset her with his dismissal of the party, “how’d you know?” she asked, interrupting herself.

“Robin, she called me this afternoon and called me allsorts or names, telling me that I owed you this after all you do for me coming to shows at the shitty bar, sitting through hellfire meetings and putting up with me when I fuck up just like I did with this” he explained and she cast a glance over her shoulder to where she’d left Steve and Robin and now her strange behaviour of wanting to be outside and the jitters made sense, she was on the look out for Eddie making sure he kept to the promise he made her. “And I would have been here earlier but I tried to get a costume but nowhere had one in stock so I had to improvise with this shitty excuse” he added.

She shook her head at him, “I love your attempt” she told him, her hands squeezing his hands from where they were still clasped together.

Her words seemed to put him at ease as he carried on, “and then I felt like I had to make it up to you so I rented the film and watched it, that’s when the idea came to me so I watched the end scene on repeat until I knew it word for word just so I could surprise you with it” he carried on with his explanation, pausing to take a breath, “I love you sweetheart and I’m so very sorry I’ll spend the whole night grovelling at your feet if it’ll make up for my fuck up” he promised, making her laugh.

“I’m sure that’d be very entertaining but you don’t have to” she assured him, “in fact I’d never thought I’d get this in my wildest dreams so thank you for making one of my dreams come true” she chuckles and they both know she’s referring to his little sing song.

“If you stay the night maybe I can make a few more come true” he suggests, a pout on his lips but a mischievous glint shimmering in his eyes that has her shaking her head at him but the smile is irremovable from her face.

There’s more the both want to say but it’ll have to wait as the countdown begins from inside the house, growing louder as everyone makes their way into the garden, “Happy New Year sweetheart” Eddie smiles as the first firework lights up the sky.

“Happy New Year Eddie” she replies, leaning in to fulfil the well known new years tradition and kissing him.

“Okay lovebirds, I’m happy that you're good again but we’ve got a curfew to keep” Steve’s voice breaks them apart as Eddie’s stares blankly at him while she can’t help but laugh.

“Oh Steve, she was kidding, she’s not expecting me home because we were supposed to be spending the night at yours” she reminds him as Eddie joins in the laughter as he realises what was going on, “only there’s been a slight change of plans, I’m staying at Eddie’s” she tells him.

“You’ll have to stop by for your overnight bag” Steve relents, remembering that you and Robin dropped your bags off the day before to save time now that he’s sure your mom won’t kill him for having you home late.

“Don’t worry about it man, she won’t need it” Eddie winks as Robin fake gags at his words.

“Ok didn’t need that mental image” Steve grimaces as he catches on to what Eddie is implying, “I’ll see you guys later then I guess” he finishes and she nods as she and Eddie say their goodbyes before heading to his van and then his trailer which they have all to themselves for the rest of the night.

[ashbeneviento]

Taking A Break:

Mia Winters x Miranda

Tags: AU (with canon game lore sprikled in), Cheating, Miranda is the boss, Ethan is a bad husband, Kissing, sexual content implied

I needed more MamaMia content so I made some, I didn’t plan on continuing this but I might. No beta reader, sorry for any grammatical mistakes! Thanks for reading <3

***

Mia sat at her desk in complete silence. Well, almost complete silence. Her pen clicked against the wood in frustration. She was supposed to be focusing on the results of her study, she was supposed to be home an hour ago.

However, with the events that happened earlier in her shift she found it hard to focus, the memory of it all still burning in the back of her mind with confusion, excitement, and worst of all…guilt.

Mia groaned and dropped the pen from her fingers and pushed her face into her hands.

**Earlier**

It was lunch break and Mia spent most of it outside of the building yelling yet again into the phone at her husband. Ever since they were relocated Ethan has been insufferable. Always demanding her to give every detail about the research she was doing (even though it was against policy). Always asking if she was okay a hundred times a day until her yes’s turned into no’s. He treated her like a damsel in distress, always needing to be saved from a force that no longer existed.

Mia had been grateful for him saving her life, that wasn’t up for debate. But now, even years after the incident in Louisiana he still continued to bring it up. Mia started to wonder if he actually even cared about her still, or that he was just using it as a form of control over her. She was not a damsel in distress for fucks sake.

“I told you I can’t tell you anything”

“Yes..that includes the staffs spouses..”

“Ethan.. you’re not- you’re not listening to me!”

“Fine. Believe what you want. I’m going to try and enjoy the rest of my fucking break. Bye”

With a hard tap against the end call button she groaned in anger. Fighting the urge to chuck her phone against concrete, she shoved the phone back into her pocket unaware that she wasn’t alone out here.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Winters?”

The voice startled Mia as she whipped her head around towards who the voice belonged to.

Her boss.

The woman’s cold glare was nothing short of unerving. Miranda always looked like a snake ready to strike a puny mouse.

“Uh.. yeah. I guess.. I’m sorry if I was causing a scene” Mia sighed as she looked away.

Miranda’s heels clacked as she approached closer, stopping to stand right next to her.

Mia didn’t know exactly why Miranda made her so uncomfortable, but judging by the way her colleagues cowered every second the blonde was around assured she wasn’t alone. And prehaps Miranda was just a power tripping bitch of a person. Mia didn’t dare to say that to anyone else, though.

“I could hear you from my office..” Miranda replies. Monotone and not impressed, flicking her lighter and raising it to the cigarette that was between her teeth.

Mia couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment. If Miranda could hear her from outside that meant so did many others.

Even still, she didn’t know why this spot with her boss would give her the courage to open her mouth and confess every little thing she was pissed off with Ethan for.

Miranda watched as she ranted. Her cold demeanor never breaking eye contact as the brunette spoke.

Every once and a while she would take a drag and exhale slowly, seemingly uninterested until Mia mentioned something a little more personal than she intended.

“…I can’t even have sex with him. There’s no intimacy. I practically have to beg for him to cuddle. Let alone take me to bed..” Mia coughs when she lets it slip. She doesn’t see the small smirk tugging at the blondes mouth, facing away in embarrassment for bringing the topic up to her boss.

“Sorry. I think I just needed to vent, I.. feel better now. I’m going to get lunch” Mia says quickly after a moment of akward silence, turning away towards the door before a surprisingly strong hand pulls at her arm.

“Don’t tell me you’re eating that bland shit from the cafeteria again” Miranda scoffs, her nose scrunched up in obvious disgust.

Mia can only stare back and shrug.

“I forgot to pack” she replies plainly. She couldn’t help herself when she thought of how Miranda’s han-…

Miranda rolls her eyes and stomps the butt of her cigarette with her heel, effectively pulling Mia away from her wandering mind.

“Are you in a hurry?” Miranda asks as she opens the door for herself, Mia promptly following after her.

“I have half an hour left so.. not really. Why?”

“I packed way too much for the day and I hate leftovers” The blonde answers over her shoulder and heads to her office. It earned them a few confused faces from coworkers as they watched the two women enter and shut the door behind them.

“I thought you were Romanian?” Mia asks as she savors the carbonara in her mouth.

Miranda smirks, twirling a fork into her own bowl across the desk.

“I am. A friend made this for me, she sends me a recipe every now and again.. but I never cook the noodles right” She answers and it makes Mia wonder who this friend of hers was. Or that it was possible for the harsh and bitter woman to even have friends at all…

“Mm..” is all she could respond with.

When the two of them were done eating the office shifted into an uncomfortable silence. Should she leave? Stay? She did have 15 minutes left…

“So Mrs. Winters..” Miranda pauses, “Has this lack of intimacy with your husband cause you to fall behind on work?”

Mia swallows at her boldness to ask such a personal question, but she guesses it’s only fair as she brought it up to begin with.

“Um.. Not really. I’m actually quite ahead on my research for this quarter” Mia answers, and Miranda only hums in response.

“I catch myself staying over just to avoid going home to him sometimes. So no, No distractions. Just irritation I guess..”

Mia looks down at her hands in her lap and rubs her fingers together nervously.

She couldn’t understand why Miranda even cared. Or why she felt comfortable enough to tell her these things for that matter.

They had never been close. That was as expected.. but Mia also never caught the way the blonde looked at her either.

When Mia first came to work for the company, Miranda relished in the fact that she already knew everything about Mrs. Winters and her annoying husband, Ethan. That pest ruined years of her work and neither of them were the wiser. She played her cards right, calculated and precise as Miranda always was to bring Mia here.

What started off as an act for revenge turned into something much… different, for the goddess. She often caught herself staring at Mia from afar taking in her human beauty. It shocked Miranda, truly, to be so enamored at her stupid brown doe eyes and the softness of her face.

And her lips..

By the black god, her mouth was something Miranda could think about for hours…

She wanted to have the brunette all to herself.

Wanted to hurt Ethan by corrupting his sweet, lovely wife by putting that mouth to a better use.

“So.. uh. Thank you, again.. for lunch. I should probably head back to my office..” Mia said sheepishly, the silence getting to her.

Miranda stood from her chair and leaned over the desk, pushing Mia’s chin up with a slender finger.

Mia couldn’t help but gasp when their faces were so close together. And that’s when she realized the blondes eyes weren’t looking into her own.. but on her lips.

“Mira-..” a soft whisper was cut off by their lips touching.

Mia wanted to pull away.

She tried convincing herself this was all a dream. She fell asleep at her desk or something.

She was married.

But oh..how sweet did Miranda’s mouth taste when her tongue slipped between her lips.

Against better judgement Mia kissed her back, feeling those slender fingers snake into her hair as they gasped and fought for air.

This is wrong.. this is so very wrong!

Mia’s conscience screamed in her head, but she was too busy enjoying it to hear it.

Well, was enjoying it until Miranda pulled away, leaving her in a state of bliss and confusion in the chair.

“Miranda.. I..what was that?? I’m.. you’re my boss..” Mia stuttered, Making Miranda smirk as she towered over her.

“And married” Miranda teases, cocking her head to the side.

“Yet you seemed to enjoy it regardless, no?”

Mia sat dumbfounded, her mouth agape and lower lip quivering. The stress of everything else and now this…it was too much, and so she stood up and left.

She didn’t even excuse herself as she stomped back to her office, slamming the door shut in frustration.

***(back to now)***

Mia couldn’t go home to Ethan. At least not now despite working over again, so she decided to head to the nearest bar while she packed her things for the night.

A place where neither Ethan or Miranda would be, someplace she could mull over what to do next without outside forces choosing for her.

Luckily it wasn’t packed as she sat, drink in hand while watching some stupid game on the screen above.

A glass is placed on the space next to her, paying it no mind until a familar voice whispers in her ear.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mrs. Winters…”

[bookish-bogwitch]

Thanks @thewholelemon, @facewithoutheart, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @aristocratic-otter, @nightimedreamersworld, @ionlydrinkhotwater for the tags the past couple weeks. Here are six a lot of sentences I cut from Basil Pitch's Diary, which for now is just one baby chapter but the rest of which is coming soon eventually to a browser near you.

This bit's inspired by the fact that there was a Parliament election in 2015. I cut it because it felt kind of clumsy--sticking jokes in the character's mouths that weren't necessarily in-character--and also had the small issue of being completely, utterly irrelevant to the plot. (At least that makes it spoiler-free 😅.)

Excerpt and tags below the cut:

FRIDAY 6 MARCH Blood units 4, body temp 25, hair ducal, civic engagement meh, political parties at least 3. 11 a.m. Politickal Science. Professor Kates had us debate tomorrow’s Normal Parliament election, presumably because he didn’t plan a real lesson. Had never paid much attention to Normal politics before reaching voting age. Unlike Bunce. “…And that’s why I’m voting Lib Dem,” she concluded after talking for eight solid minutes. “You’re sixteen,” objected Wellbelove.  “Not a problem,” said Bunce, flapping her ring hand.  From the back of the classroom, the pixie chimed in. “What about the Green Pa—” Bunce made a rude noise.  “What about you, Simon?” asked the professor. “How would you vote?”  Of course the Mage’s Heir gets a platform for his inane views. What a blow when he finds out there’s no Butter Union party. “Um,” orated Snow. “I … I dunno. Labour, probably.” Snow turned to Bunce. “Like, some of them are nutters, yeah, but they’d fund stuff. Like,” he reddened, “schools and, like, social programs.” “Those are already funded,” said Bunce. “Not enough.”  “You expect the government to solve all your problems,” I quoted my father automatically.  Snow gave me one of my own You’re an idiot looks. “I really don’t.”  Shit. How many times had he been asked to solve the World of Mages’s problems single-handed? Bunce was still fired up. “Simon, you can’t just dismiss Labor’s xenophobic—”  I thought about what Snow meant and missed the rest of Bunce’s rant about something something intersectionality. As if she would willingly intersect with a Normal. 4 p.m. Am torn. Pitches always vote Tory, just like we’ll always vote against the Mage once we get back the franchise. (Fiona has a plan to steal it.) A liberal government would drain our coffers even drier.  But in our borough voting Tory means re-electing a man who opposed same-sex marriage two years ago. The craven claimed he wasn’t homophobic, he just had homophobic constituents. Do not see why the straight unwashed should control my freedom to marry.  Even worse is the Tory ghoul from Aldershot who stumped about “the aggressive homosexual community” using marriage as “a stepping stone.” As if I wouldn’t pay double VAT to be stepped on by an aggressive homosexual. Still. Am not simpleton single-issue voter; marriage equality is a fait accompli. And anyway, I’d only ever want to gay-marry Snow, straight and unwashed though he is.  Felt weirdly proud of him today for disagreeing with Bunce, especially when I realized the professor had singled him out not as Mage’s Heir but as spokesnormal. And that “social programs” meant his entire childhood.  Hmm. SATURDAY 7 MARCH 10 p.m. Resolved politico-moral quandary by forgetting to vote.

Look, it wasn't my idea for Baz to be a Tory. That was all Rainbow. I also do think Penny has a centrist streak inherited from Mitali but I have no idea real how this would translate into the Normal world.

Thanks @facewithoutheart for gently pointing out that this was a complete tangent. And sorry and thank you @captain-aralias for the content beta. It's not your fault I asked you to explain UK politics and then didn't listen.

Tagging @cutestkilla, @fatalfangirl, @moodandmist, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @im-gettingby, and @petedavidsonscock.

[intercoursefluids]

BMFBMLBME Chapter 20

Damian sighed; the video camera propped up on the counter in the bathroom as he leaned against the bathtub.

He had doubled checked to make sure he was in frame, not wanting to have to film the video twice.

He wasn’t sure he could get through it once.

There were numerous videos on the camera already, just under half of the storage on the thumb drive was full. Some were of them together, some were separate.

They had stayed true to the plan, of filming everything.

The nice, quiet moments.

The moments where he would get her to laugh so hard she snorted and his stomach hurt.

The bad moments too.

This, was a bad video.

“It’s Christmas. We have been trapped here for 8 months and 13 days.” Damian started, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Marinette is still sick, she got sick in late November and she-” He took a shuddering breath. “She’s just been getting worse.” He finished, his voice cracking at the end.

“Mother won’t help.” He continued after a moment.

“She says that Marinette needs to get over it on her own, she refuses to get a doctor or any medicine for her. I don’t even have a, a thermometer to know how high her fever is. No one is helping and I- I don’t know what to do.”

Damian wrapped his arms around himself, staring at the ground before his feet.

“I want to go home.” He whispered.

If he were home, Marinette wouldn’t still be sick. Father would have called for a doctor immediately or figured out what was wrong and helped him herself.

No one would have let her suffer like this.

If he were at home, they wouldn’t be locked up like this. Surviving merely because it was his mother’s whims keeping them alive.

He felt helpless, and he hated it.

“I want to get some medicine, help Marinette get better. I want to get us out of here, back home where I can introduce her to everyone. Where we aren’t locked up and can actually do things and go places. I want to go home.” Damian ranted in the quiet room.

Damian stayed quiet for a while, staring down at the ground before he tilted his head, looking out through the crack in the bathroom door.

“Marinette’s still asleep, she’ll be up soon though. I’m sure she’ll want a bath so I should probably start running her some water.” He thought out loud, turning to look at the bathtub behind him.

“I have to help her get to the bathroom now; she can’t really walk or stand long enough to make it on her own. She won’t let me help her with the bath though, she says she can do it on her own but she’s always winded by the time she’s finished.” Damian said, sniffling as he tried not to think too hard about the state she was in.

Damian ran a hand through his hair, standing up and closing the bathroom door softly.

He walked back over to the camera, looking straight into the camera as he squatted before it.

“I’m terrified, honestly.” He admitted, doing his best to force the words out. “I’m not sure how long Marinette is going to last like this, and I’m not sure I can last without her.”

“The way I see it, this is going to go one of two ways. We are both going to make it out of here, somehow, or…” He paused, giving the camera a measured look. “Neither of us will. I won’t be able to stay sane without her, and Mother won’t keep her around if I’m not here.”

Damian paused, trying to think of what else he should say when he heard a faint rustling behind the bathroom door.

“Damian?” Marinette’s soft voice called out.

Damian whipped his head to the side, standing up and grabbing the camera with one hand.

“I’m right here!” He called back, switching the video off as he walked.

Come Find Me On Discord!<3

Tag List:

@Prettylittlebutterflie

@Dood-space

@Raeuberprinzessin

@Account-is-secret-but-needed

@Frieddonutsweets

@Ev-cupcake

@Ts-maemain

@toodaloo-kangaroo

@animegirlweeb

[wolvisms]

okay so the essay has (obviously) been completed and submitted but apparently i’ve lost the ability to write anything fictional and i’m really upset about it

also. cannot wait to finish this stupid essay (it’s due tomorrow and i still have yet to start it💅🏽) and actually try to start writing fics and stuff. i’ve missed writing sooooo much

[jackerscracker]

Warning for a rant/vent below

Forever who may actually be reading this I’m sorry for posting this, talking with bots just isn’t cutting it anymore for me anymore and I just need to write stuff down. If you know me irl please leave this post. This isn’t going to be a well put together and going to have a lot of spelling errors but here we go

Incase I forgot to tag something if like to say this thing involves: SH, meal skipping, sui thoughts, and a bit of homophobia/transphobia

I’ve been struggling with my mental health a lot since last summer and things are going to absolute shit. My grades are fucking ass and it’s all because I can’t fucking focus in class. I’ve honestly tried really hard to but I can’t. My parents are blaming all my problems on technology and my teachers treat me like a toddler. I’ve tried talking to my parents about this being a neurological issue but they denied it and just think I’m being lazy. This isn’t even the first time they haven’t listen to my concerns and that’s almost gotten me killed. Back in 2020 I felt like shit. I was always tired and my stomach hurt so much I couldn’t eat and they just brushed it off as a normal teenage girl thing and I was fine. I went days hardly eating anything and threw up at a birthday party because I ate a hotdog. They only took me to the doctor after this started heavily interfering with school work and it turns out my blood sugar was in the 600s and ended up being diagnosed with type one diabetes. If they listed to my concerns I would’ve been spared a lot of pain I went through during the threeish month period I felt awful.

Diabetes has honestly ruined my entire plan for my career since I wanted to be a pilot for the Air Force since I was little and now I’m stuck trying figure out what the hell I want to do with my life. I wanted to be an animator but my mom instantly shut that down and told me it wasn’t a real job and that I should be an endocrinologist instead.

I love my mom but we don’t see things eye to eye. She was the first person in my family I told I was pansexual and instead of telling me that she supported me she just went on a giant rant about how and I quote “queer people are more prone to STDs and have horrible mental health” she’s also a religious woman and told me that being gay was a sin and that I can’t tell anyone at the barn I work at I’m gay (they all knew before her). If terrified that if I tell her I’m a guy she might actually send me to one of those “pray the gay away” camps and take away all of my access to the internet. She’s even considered putting me in her friends little private Christian school since she think public schools are “forcing” the idea of being gay into kids. Choosing not to tell my parents that I’m trans has taken me down a path where I can’t get the stuff I need to feel euphoric and comfortable in how I look. It’s gotten so bad that I can’t even look myself in a mirror topless anymore without freaking out. I’ve managed to get my hair cut decently short and use the male terms for gendered words in Spanish class but that’s as far as I can get. I honestly hate how I look and since I can’t change anything about it I’ve been caught in this web of dysphoria and SH that I’m struggling to climb out of. I’ve though about just flat out giving up on my life since it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and just offing myself multiple times. I can’t bring myself to do that though since I have a friend who might not make it through high school if I don’t stick around and I’m not going to leave my sister to struggle through her middle school days without guidance. My dogs would also be sad if I died

I think I’m being bullied at my school but it’s weird. It’s all happens in my PE class and everyone but a few kids are in on it. It’s two groups of people doing it, I’m calling them the A and B groups to make it less confusing if you’re still reading this. Group A is just a group of friends who think it’s funny to try and exchange me in conversations where they act like I’m their friend just to entertain the rest of the group. They ask me stupid questions and always speak in a condescending tone. Group B is basically the copy & paste popular girls in the class. They just fucking shriek at me whenever I mess up during a game or when they beat me in something. One of them screamed in my ear once and I couldn’t hear well out of that ear for a while. Me and a friend had to play them in volleyball ball once and one of them just chucked the ball past me and yelled fetch as if I was some kind of fucking dog. They also like making fun of how I say things, they spent a whole class period talking about how I said the word “bloody” when I yelled at one of them. Also the teacher has witnessed most of this happening and didn’t do a damn thing about it. I’m not sure why he didn’t do anything about it, even after my friend informed me that her mom sent him an email about it.

I’m sorry again for posting this, Im just really tired and needed to just sit and write out some of the bullshit going on in my life

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[cjsinkythoughts]

Not Your Captain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1695

Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing

A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded!  Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)

AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.

You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.

You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.

Someone you would never tell.

He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.

You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.

You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.

He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.

His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum. 

You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.

The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.

He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead. 

Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.

Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.

“Buck?”

He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.

“Have you seen the news recently?”

His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”

You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”

He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.

“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”

“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”

Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”

You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.

You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”

The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.

“Are you?”

You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”

“Going to meet with him?”

“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”

“Why…” 

Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”

He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”

“What?”

“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”

“He did give it to them, but-”

“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”

You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”

Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”

Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.

You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.

Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.

“Stay with me. I need you.”

You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”

Taglist (OPEN):

@happygoreading​, @thatsdarwinism​, @satellitespidey​