#and take it to the next level so if anyone have any questions or anything free feel to ask me

[malk1ns]

january 29 @ utah, 3-2 OT win

hi geno. this was inspo for today's.

sid is rounding into form and had several milestones in this game.

Zhenya understands why sometimes new guys mistake him for part of the equipment staff, or one of the trainers.

It’s been decades since your designation stipulated what types of jobs you’re allowed to have, even in the NHL. There are omegas at all levels these days, and the Penguins hire more than most. With Zhenya’s tendency to mooch around the training facilities in athletic gear, it’s never a surprise when a rookie or a new signing tries to hand off their gear to him, or stop him to ask a question about their rehab plan.

Zhenya’s too nice to turn up his nose and sneer, even though handling sweaty hockey gear even for a second makes him want to hurl. They never make that mistake more than one time anyway, not when they see the symbol on his badge or one of the more established guys comes up to poke fun at them for the misunderstanding. 

Zhenya doesn’t mind. He knows he dresses a little untraditionally for a contracted omega; the girls are usually decked out in skimpy dresses that wouldn’t be out of place at a nightclub, and the guys tend to either wear formalwear or mesh. Anything to stand out.

He hasn’t felt a need to stand out in a long time. It’s not like anyone who counts is going to forget what he’s got on offer.

The rest of the team omegas usually watch games from whatever room the team has set up for them. Zhenya goes sometimes, to mingle with the omegas with other teams he’s known for years and introduce himself to the newbies, but most games find him down in the lounge, taking advantage of the quiet and craft services to have some snacks and zone out on his phone.

He usually keeps the game on in the background, just to keep track of what the mood in the room is going to be after.

This road trip has been pretty ugly, but Zhenya’s watching raptly when Sid backhands in the overtime winner, and the manic smile on his face as the players all pile on him says it all.

He’s on the clock now, so Zhenya beelines to the trainers to get his knee looked at quickly and make sure the muscle he strained in the pickup game he went to last week is in good shape. He manages to skid into the locker room just before Sully starts in on his postgame pep talk.

The omegas always cluster at the far end of the locker room, out of the way of the cameras if they can help it. Zhenya ends up standing next to Evelyn, who gives him a pointed once-over, rolls her eyes, and turns to face the coaching staff.

Evelyn’s new, and she doesn’t like him. Zhenya doesn’t take it personally. Whenever the Penguins contract on a new omega, they always walk into the job thinking they’re going to shoot to the top of the pecking order, that the big prize on the Penguins will lay eyes on them and be so overwhelmed by their scent that he plucks them from the crowd and makes them his favorite.

Evelyn does smell nice, sweet and slightly fruity, like the jam Zhenya likes to stir into his tea. She’ll be popular. She’ll never be a threat, though.

Eventually she’ll come around. Zhenya’s charming and funny, and he’s been able to win over every omega the Penguins have hired over the last 19 years. She’s taking longer than most, admittedly, but he’ll figure her out before the end of the season.

Sid gets the helmet tonight, which isn’t a surprise. The commentary from the team is explicit enough that Zhenya can see the cameraman wincing.

Finally everyone calms down enough for the players to pick their omegas.

Zhenya’s never known how they decide who gets to pick one for the night. There are the obvious ones, of course, the game-winner or the goalie that kept them in the game or the guy who scored his first NHL goal. Outside of that, though, the team has some arcane internal system for deciding who gets a reward for any given game.

It doesn’t matter. Zhenya isn’t like the rest of the omegas, waiting to see who picks them, if anyone. A night off isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but an omega who goes too long without getting selected is in danger of getting traded, or sent to the AHL affiliate, or cut entirely.

Sid will pick last like always, so Zhenya watches the rest of tonight’s winners make their selections.

Ned and Petey, both of whom are far too faithful to their wives to utilize a team omega, cede their choices to Rusty, who isn’t. His grin is sharklike when he pulls two omegas along with him to his stall, and Zhenya snorts, loudly enough to distract Evelyn from where she’s staring at Sid to glare at him again.

Whatever psychic summoning she was trying doesn’t work. Karl picks her, which doesn’t surprise Zhenya at all—he knows everyone’s type. He swings her into his arms as she giggles up at him, batting her eyelashes. Zhenya smiles blandly at her when she shoots a poisonous glare over Karl’s shoulder, then moves his gaze to Sid.

“Boring,” Zhenya hears Tanger mutter as Sid gives to the staffer who’s in charge of writing down their choices Geno’s name.

“Smart,” Zhenya corrects, tilting his head just enough so that his scent starts to fill the room. “Sid gets best, he knows this—why change?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tanger says with an eye roll, but Zhenya doesn’t miss the way his nostrils flare.

Zhenya’s scent has always defied an easy description. There’s something marine about it, salt and wind and ocean spray, but with a base note that’s just on the verge of being unpleasantly spicy. It’s complicated, and it turns heads wherever he goes. Some people hate it, but some—a surprising amount of athletes—find it absolutely irresistible.

None more than Sidney Crosby, who’s making his way across the room, a huge grin on his face.

“Did you watch?” he demands, stopping scant inches from Zhenya. He’s still in his base layers, and if it were anyone else Zhenya would wrinkle his nose and step back, but he’s been conditioned into finding Sid hot no matter what state he’s in—and it doesn’t hurt that his own scent is especially sharp right now, citrus and sugar and gin making Zhenya’s mouth water.

“Such good goal, Sid,” Zhenya praises, watching as Sid’s chest puffs. “Best backhand, like, goalie doesn’t have chance. Great win for team, too.”

“Yeah,” Sid says, looking around the room with a fond smile. The guys who got omegas are all happy, of course, chatting with their picks at their stalls before staff shows up to hustle everyone into the showers and out to the shuttle, but everyone else smells happy too, relief and excitement saturating the air. “We needed it.”

Zhenya’s not a part of the team, not like the players are, but he takes pride in their successes and mourns their rough streaks too. A happy, chattering locker room settles something in him, especially after how dire they’ve been the last week.

“You get for them,” he says, redirecting Sid’s attention back to him. “Surprise you let them give you helmet, though.”

Sid shrugs sheepishly at that. The helmet isn’t meant for players like him, he’d explained to Zhenya years ago. For big milestones, sure, but it’s meant to recognize a guy who did a lot of little things right, or someone who’s been struggling and got the monkey off their back. Sometimes, though, the players insist, and Sid almost always gives in when his team wants something for him.

“Okay,” Tags says, popping up at Sid’s shoulder and smacking his arm. “C’mon, Sid, you know he’s a sure thing, you don’t need to flirt. We need to get packed up and get to the plane. You’ll get him back when we land.”

Sid looks ready to snap something unkind, so Zhenya reaches forward and squeezes Sid’s shoulder, and Sid relaxes, heading obediently back to his stall to strip off the rest of his gear.

Tags watches him go, shaking his head. “Pain in the ass,” he mutters, but it’s fond, just like everyone on the Penguins is when dealing with Sidney Crosby. “Hey, did I see JP at UPMC the other day? You thinking of extending after all?”

Zhenya hesitates, and Tags doesn’t push, giving Zhenya a kind smile as he rushes off to start breaking down the room.

Zhenya’s agent had been in town, it’s true. He’s been fielding calls about Zhenya’s contract status for months, now that Zhenya’s eligible to extend again starting in July, and he’d wanted to meet with Zhenya face-to-face.

He’d left their meeting frustrated, Zhenya knows. He’s not being a very helpful client right now.

He brushes those thoughts away and makes his way to the dry change room to throw sweatpants on over his compression shorts and grab his bag. He’s really looking forward to going home.

—

Technically, omegas and players aren’t supposed to sit together on the plane. There’s something about it in the code of conduct contracts everyone signs, to keep any funny business with team omegas away from team property, but when Sid snags Zhenya as he’s walking down the aisle towards the back and tugs him into the empty seat next to him, nobody has much of a reaction except for Ty, who shakes his head at Sid but keeps walking.

“Sorry,” Sid says, not sounding very sorry at all. “I just didn’t want you walking past everyone.”

Zhenya stares at him, unimpressed. He’s never had any problems with any of these guys. The last time a player joked about picking Zhenya before Sid was able to, Sid had practically dropped fang in the locker room and the guy had been traded a week later. Nobody who’s sitting on this plane is going to give Zhenya a hard time or look at him twice, not after a game like that and with the way Sid’s smelling. “Okay,” he says, making sure he sounds exactly as skeptical as he feels. “So, what we do?”

Sid’s eyes drop to Zhenya’s mouth, but before Zhenya can say a word he shakes his head and leans down to dig through his bag, pulling out his iPad. “Want to watch something?” he says, offering the tablet to Zhenya. “I haven’t watched any more episodes of Severance after the ones we watched together.”

“Me too, was waiting,” Zhenya says, grabbing the iPad and scrolling until he finds the right app. Sid’s found Zhenya’s headphones, a too-expensive pair Sid bought for him a few years ago, and when they’ve got the audio figured out so they both can listen they settle into their chairs.

Sid’s warm against Zhenya’s side, and he smells fantastic, strong and masculine and like a winner. Zhenya shifts in his seat and tries to focus on the show, but his mouth is watering and he thinks he’s getting wet. If Sid notices, he’s too polite to comment on it.

They have to wait until they’re back at Sid’s house. Sitting together is one thing; Sid gets rules bent for him all the time. Starting something with the team all around them, though, might actually have consequences, and Zhenya’s not willing to risk that.

He misses most of what happens in the show. From how Sid’s scent grows, though, he’s not doing much better. They’ll just have to re-watch these episodes some other time.

—

Sid’s restless by the time they touch down at Pittsburgh International. Zhenya spends the last hour of the flight with his hand covering the back of Sid’s neck trying to pump calming pheromones at him, but it’s pretty much a lost cause; he even snarls at Kris when he walks past their row.

Kris just rolls his eyes at them. Zhenya grimaces apologetically and thinks to himself that probably this is why omegas aren’t supposed to sit with the players that picked them on the plane.

Sid bats Zhenya’s hands away from his own carry-on and shepherds him off the plane, practically tripping in his haste to get them both to his car. Zhenya barely manages to toss his keys to a staffer; they’ll get his own car to Sid’s house for him to use in the morning.

If Sid lets him leave tomorrow. Sometimes he doesn’t. That’s not technically allowed either; an omega’s obligation ends after twelve hours, but nobody can dictate what Zhenya does in his off-hours—or who.

Sid relaxes once he’s got Zhenya tucked safely into his passenger seat. The further he drives them away from the airport, the more his shoulders come down, and once they’re pulling into his garage and the gate is closing behind them he’s practically jovial again.

“It was a pretty good game, eh?” he says, hauling their bags inside and dropping them unceremoniously in the mudroom. Zhenya considers making a fuss—he’s got a lot of his nice clothes in there, after all—but for all that Sid’s finally stopped looking around for an active threat, he’s still practically vibrating with pent-up energy and hormones. Zhenya can bill him for his dry-cleaning.

“Great game,” he affirms, letting Sid tow him to the staircase. Sometimes Sid gets like this, needs his ego petted before he’ll let the game go and take his reward. “You get team working together, like, everyone on same page. I’m know you figure out what to do.”

Sid sends a smirk over his shoulder, and Zhenya shivers a little at the show of teeth, suddenly aware on a very primal level that he’s alone with a dominant alpha male that’s strong enough to take him down and keep him there without much effort.

Sid’s smile goes sharp at the turn Zhenya’s scent takes, and the click when he shuts his bedroom door sounds final.

Zhenya hasn’t made his living off reading alphas his entire adult life for nothing, though. He knows what it is Sid really wants tonight.

Before Sid can turn around from closing them into his room, Zhenya’s got him pinned against the door, wedging his hand around Sid’s chin and turning his head so Zhenya can see his face. Sid looks like he’s going to fight it for a second, but Zhenya grinds against him, rubbing his dick along Sid’s ass, and Sid lets out a long breath, deliberately letting his muscles go lax.

“And I figure out what to do with you,” Zhenya coos, trailing his hand down Sid’s torso until he can grope Sid’s dick through his jeans. He’s rock-hard, huge in Zhenya’s hand, and when Zhenya squeezes Sid growls, bucking his hips forward into Zhenya’s grip. “Yeah, you want it bad, I watch you all night and I think to myself, he’s play so good, superstar, I get to have him tonight.”

“Fuck,” Sid hisses through gritted teeth, letting Zhenya manhandle him back to the bed and shove him onto the mattress face-first.

Once he gets Sid naked, Zhenya spends some time groping his ass. He doesn’t get his hands on Sid this way all that often, so he ignores Sid’s whining to really appreciate it.

The omegas from other teams always giggle over Sid when they’re gossiping with Zhenya. He’s more than happy to share tidbits—nothing too personal, of course, nothing that would get either of them in trouble or result in bad press if it went public, but enough to make them jealous, make sure everyone knows what they’re missing out on. They couldn’t even dream of anything like this, though. Sid’s ass is everything that’s been said about it and more.

Zhenya reaches down to palm himself, taking the edge off a little. Sid figures out what he’s doing and struggles under Zhenya’s hold until he manages to flip onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows to stare.

Zhenya’s got a big dick for an omega. It’s nowhere near even the most poorly-endowed alpha, obviously, but he’s proud of it, knows how to use it. When he fucks around with betas and other omegas in the offseason, he does his best to leave them panting and bow-legged.

Sid’s bow-legged enough on his own already, but he’s got a perverse fascination with Zhenya’s dick and balls. Has since the beginning, really, the first time he felt comfortable enough to hint around this as something he wanted sometimes. It turns Zhenya’s crank the way Sid practically drools over his dick.

“You want?” he asks, cupping his balls and tugging meanly, watching Sid’s mouth drop. “Yeah, you do. Big strong alpha, big important captain, everyone wants to say how good you’re play—what if they knew, huh? What if they saw how much you like getting fucked by omega dick? What you think they’re say?”

“Oh my god,” Sid whimpers, reaching forward. Zhenya slaps his hands down, baring his teeth when Sid moans and his dick twitches, drooling precome all over his stomach. “G, please, I need it bad.”

“I know, baby,” Zhenya croons, leaning off to the side to paw through Sid’s nightstand until he finds the lube. “I give to you, nice and hard like you’re deserve.”

Sid lets Zhenya turn him back over and tuck a pillow under his hips, spreading his legs obediently when Zhenya tells him to.

“Good boy,” Zhenya says, watching Sid’s whole body shudder. “I take care now.”

He opens Sid up agonizingly slow. Sid shivers and pants and sweats under him, squirming back for more as Zhenya gets one finger, then two, then three into him.

Sid’s always so tight when they do this. It’s a good thing he doesn’t like alphas, not even for an occasional dalliance, because Zhenya’s not sure there’s enough lube in the world that would let another alpha get at his ass.

There’s plenty for what Zhenya’s working with, though.

Sid’s practically incoherent by the time Zhenya takes himself in hand and lines up against his hole. “Take it now,” he mutters practically to himself, pushing until he’s inside Sid’s body.

He can feel Sid squeeze around him, an instinctive rejection, before he takes a breath and relaxes. When Zhenya pushes all the way in with one smooth thrust, they both moan.

Zhenya goes slowly at first, but when Sid fumbles one arm back and grabs his thigh, he tucks his head, braces his palms on the mattress, and starts to fuck him in earnest.

Sid always goes so, so quiet when he’s getting fucked. It had alarmed Zhenya the first time; he’d stopped, concerned Sid was in pain, or had changed his mind and didn’t know how to say it.

As if Zhenya could ever do anything to Sid that Sid wasn’t explicitly allowing.

Now, Zhenya focuses on his smell, the way the citrus blooms so heavy it’s overripe, almost rotten, the closer Sid gets to the edge. He runs his hands over Sid’s back to feel his muscles clenching and relaxing, the way his hips hitch into the pillow as he rubs himself off.

When Sid’s scent is strong enough that Zhenya feels like he’s practically drunk off the gin lacing through the orange, Zhenya slips his hand under Sid’s torso and squeezes hard where his knot would pop if he were fucking an omega.

Sid howls. His back bows to an almost painful angle as he comes. His dick kicks in Zhenya’s hand, pumping come out at an incredible rate, and Zhenya whines at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he fucks Sid through it. He knows what it feels like when Sid comes inside him, and the smell of Sid’s come kicks at something in his brain that makes him want to fawn and beg.

He grits his teeth and fucks Sid harder instead, holding him to the mattress with the full weight of his body until he grinds in one last time and comes with a grunt.

As soon as he’s got control of his limbs again, Zhenya pulls out and rolls to the side, making sure to give Sid space. They’ve learned the hard way that sometimes Sid’s body reacts in the aftermath before his brain can, and Zhenya isn't interested in spending 20 minutes trying to talk down an angry, hormone-addled alpha who’s got him pinned to the floor tonight.

Sid comes back to himself quickly tonight, and it’s not long before Zhenya finds himself in Sid’s arms, cheek rubbing against Sid’s pec as Sid plays with the hair at the nape of his neck. Zhenya purrs, going boneless at the answering rumble in Sid’s chest.

He’s practically half-asleep when Sid opens his mouth and jolts him back to wakefulness.

“Has Kyle talked to you about your contract?”

Zhenya freezes.

Some of the guys, like Tags earlier, have been tiptoeing around asking him outright. Trust Sidney Crosby to just rip the bandaid off.

The truth is, Kyle’s been asking him to sign for at least another year for months now. He wants Zhenya there for Sid, he’d explained; nobody else knows Sid as well as Zhenya does, nobody can get to him when he needs sense talked into him. Nobody could step into his shoes.

It’s the truth, which doesn’t make it less flattering. Zhenya’s still hesitating, though.

Sid clears his throat. “I mean. I know you’re probably…well, this is your fourth contract here, and I wouldn’t blame you if-—you’ve probably got offers from all over the place, right? You don’t need to stay in Pittsburgh.”

“Yes,” Zhenya says warily. There’s no such thing as tampering rules when it comes to omegas; teams are allowed to submit contract proposals whenever they want. JP’s got a filing cabinet in his office dedicated to the most outlandish offers Zhenya’s gotten over the years. The compensation packages aren’t as outrageous as they were a decade ago, but they’re still lucrative, and there are plenty to choose from.

He could go somewhere warm if he wanted. He could walk into a new locker room, one that’s closer to winning the Cup, and relive the manic adrenaline rush that is a run for the championship one last time. There are options that would cater to whatever whim he wants to indulge.

But…

“I figured,” Sid mutters, and his scent goes briefly sour. “I know that Pittsburgh isn’t…there are other cities. But I was wondering, maybe…I mean, I’d never ask you to quit, not if you didn’t want to, but if you’re thinking that maybe you don’t…” He blows a big gust of air out of his nose, laughing ruefully. “Sorry. This is coming out all wrong. But, I wanted to ask…” He tightens his arms around Zhenya briefly before loosening entirely, rolling Zhenya away from him until they’re face-to-face. “I was wondering, would you consider contracting with…with me, instead. Like, as my omega. Not mine, oh my god, you’re your own person, obviously. But—”

Zhenya lets him babble, staring at him wide-eyed.

Sid’s hinted at this for years now. Zhenya never really took it seriously—alphas say all kinds of shit when they’re knot-deep in an omega’s pussy and drunk on pheromones. Before Sid put unofficial dibs on Zhenya and he’d still get picked by others, he’d been proposed to probably half a dozen times. But…

Sid had emailed him this past August, just a few days before his own contract extension went public. They talk pretty frequently over the summers, just to catch up and chat, but this message had gone a little more serious than their off-season conversations usually do.

I don’t know how much longer I’m going to play, not really, Sid had written. I don’t want to be one of those guys that everyone looks at and shakes their head, like, why isn’t he retiring, doesn’t he see he doesn’t have it anymore—you know? I never want to go out that way. I do know that I don’t want to do it without you, though. Even if you decide to hang them up after you’re done, I hope you’re still around with me.

Zhenya can recite that email word-for-word. Sid hadn’t said a thing about it when they both got back to Pittsburgh for camp so Zhenya hadn’t brought it up either. He’s spent the intervening months wondering, though, and avoiding his agent’s increasingly irritated missives about giving Kyle an answer.

“Yes.” Zhenya interrupts whatever no doubt embarrassing nonsense Sid is stammering his way through. “Yes, I want. Want to stay with you. Be yours.”

[gojosprettyprincess]

GUYS GUYS I JUST WANNA SAY THAT IM OKAY NOW and I have my motivation back to keep writing and to that anon that sent the ask and said to forget about it, ITS OK i get what you meant and thank you so much im glad you enjoy my work, it truly means alot💝

[mostly-imagines]

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.” 

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #4

When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.

"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.

"Report!"

"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.

The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.

"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.

"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.

"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."

Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.

"Nightwing, report."

"..."

"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."

"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"

"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."

Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"

"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."

Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."

"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"

The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.

"No, I'm not---"

"--don't need--"

"get AWAY from--"

a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"

and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."

And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."

And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."

The audio cuts off.

The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.

"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.

"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.

"B?" Barbara asks.

"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 4

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: it’s my birthday, so let’s celebrate with their date 🤭

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 3

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, catching the man's attention before he gets back into the SUV. He raises an eyebrow, you smirk. "Tell James he better damn well bring flowers."

—

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing out your blouse. You turn to the side to see the back of your outfit and straighten back out again.

“You’re wearing pants to a fancy date with a crime lord?” Ellie asks, judgement lacing her question. You turn and raise an eyebrow at her, crossing the room to find the loafers you planned to wear.

“Yeah. Problem?” You ask, not really caring about Ellie’s opinion of your date attire. After all, it’s really more of a business transaction than a date.

“Yes! He’s probably expecting a dress, heels! Something low cut! You’re supposed to look sexy! You,” she pauses, gesturing to your body with an exasperated hand motion, “look like a JCPenney commercial.”

You scoff, a smirk teasing your lips. “Ellie, I don’t care. First of all, I can run a hell of a lot easier in loafers than heels, in slacks than a dress. Second of all,” you pick up your handgun where it lie on your dresser and check the safety, “I can’t hide this as easily in a dress.” Once you’re satisfied the safety is on, you tuck the gun away in the back of your pants, pulling your blouse back down over it. You look in the mirror again and fiddle with the tucking.

“Should I French tuck this?”

“Yes,” Ellie says distractedly before continuing. “But, Y/N, this guy is dangerous. You should play it safe. It’s just a date, so be who he obviously wants you to be.”

You sigh, turning back around to look your sister in the eyes.

“Ellie,” you say, tone dead serious. “Why are you so afraid of him? What did he do to you?”

Ellie blanches and doesn’t say anything. You sigh again turning back around to the mirror to fiddle with your hair, making sure it’s out of your face.

“I never saw him,” Ellie says suddenly. You watch her through the mirror where she sits on your bed staring at her hands. “I never saw him,” she starts again, “but I don’t think I was important enough for him to spare me his attention.

“I was at home making dinner when his men came for me. There was knock on the door, and when I answered, they stuck a bag over my head. Next thing I knew, I was in a dank, small room. There was a mattress on the floor for me to sleep, a toilet. Nothing else. I was there for maybe two days before someone came for me. I was taken to a conference room. There was a man there. I forget his name, but he was tall. Blond. He asked if I knew why I was there, I said I did, and he asked if I had any way to repay what I owed.”

“What did you owe?”

“750,000 dollars.”

“Ellie! How do you—? What? How?” You’re shocked, unable to comprehend how your baby sister could owe anyone so much.

“I… I met this guy, Zemo. We were just friends, but he started taking me around his friends. His friends hung out in these speakeasy type clubs. They played poker and stuff. I don’t know. I usually just watched, but after a few times, they talked me into it. Told me it was easy money, and, Y/N, I needed the money! So, I played, and I was doing really well. So I kept playing long after Zemo and his buddies left. I made so much down there, but I got too cocky and I lost an all-or-nothing. I played again to try and win it back, but it was like I’d lost my mojo, like I’d been playing on beginner’s luck.”

“Ellie,” you say sympathetically.

“I was $750,000 in debt and I couldn’t pay it, but the man I’d lost to—I think he felt bad—he said I could have 72 hours to get him his money. If I didn’t get him the money in time…” She trails off and you realize you’re clenching your jaw. You consciously unclench it. Ellie takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. “He said if I didn’t get the money to him in 72 hours he would just have to find another way for me to pay him back. I don’t really know what he meant by that.

Anyway, the blond man asked if I could repay the money. I said no. He looked… sympathetic? He told me I’d have to go back to the cell until they could find use for me. I was there until they brought me home.”

You sit next to her on the bed, circling your arm around her. “Elle, I’m so sorry. I wish you’d come to me for help. I would’ve helped.”

“You don’t have that money, either. Plus, you are helping.”

“I guess.”

“What time is it?”

“6:30.”

“Are you nervous?” Ellie asks.

“I accidentally kidnapped the most powerful man in the city and threatened his life, sis. I’m not nervous at all,” you say sarcastically.

Ellie opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the ringing of your doorbell and a knock on the door. The two of you exchange a surprised look and you double check your watch: 6:34.

“He’s early,” you say, standing as you take a deep breath and try to swallow your nerves.

“Hey, you’ve got this. I know it,” Ellie reassures you, but she makes no move to follow you as you leave the room and go to make good on your end of yours and James’ bargain. You’re settling her debt and she makes no further move to support you.

You sigh as you reach the front door, swallowing your nerves and the tiny bit of resentment for your sister forming. Swinging the door open, you come face to face with the same man you had kidnapped and assaulted the day before: James Barnes.

James is looking around him when you open the door, but his attention is immediately on you as the door opens. His striking blue eyes meet yours, take in your person, and meet your eyes again. He grins.

“You look beautiful, Doll,” he says. He sounds breathless, completely blown away. You give him a questioning look, still so unsure of his motives.

“Thank you. You clean up nice. Not being tied up to a chair suits you,” you say. Your words come out funny. The ‘thank you’ sounds somewhat genuine but the compliment comes out somewhat strained, like you’re not sure you should be saying it.

James ignores your tone and lets his grin widen. He then takes a hand out from behind his back—you hadn’t even noticed his hand was behind his back—and hands you a bouquet of blue hyacinths. You just stare at them for a while as your brain attempts to catch up with your eyes.

“You actually brought flowers.”

“You threatened me again,” he teases.

“James, I…” You trail off, speechless. You wonder how you keep getting away with threatening him. Most people would be, at best, locked away, at worst, dead.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name,” he says, “is Bucky.”

You let your eyes trail from the hyacinths up to his eyes (you can’t help but notice they’re the same color), and you think that he looks shy—timid. James—Bucky—looks like he is nervous to ask you to call him by this other name.

“Bucky?” You ask, and, against your better judgment, as you ask it, you pull back your front door and step aside, inviting him into your home. He looks equally surprised you’d do such a thing, but he enters, taking a few steps into the corridor before pausing to look around and to wait on you. You close the door behind you and lead him to the kitchen where you pull out a vase for the flowers.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s—erm—a nickname. It’s what my friends call me.”

“We’re friends?” You ask skeptically.

“Well, no, but we’re going on a date. ‘James’ is just a little formal,” he says, wrinkling his nose at his own name.

You offer him a friendly smile (which surprises you). “Well, Bucky, you’re lucky I’m ready because you’re, like, half an hour early.”

Bucky has the decency to look embarrassed, but he ignores the accusation. “Well,” he says instead, “shall we go?”

You nod and follow him out to his car. Once you make it to the vehicle, Bucky opens the car door for you, carefully shutting it behind you. He takes his spot in the driver’s seat a moment later.

You let out a breathy laugh and he side eyes you as he starts the car.

“What?”

“Nothing! I just sort of expected you to have a driver. You’re just… surprising.”

He smiles at your admission. “Careful, Doll. Someone might think you like me.”

“Doubtful.”

It’s not a long drive to what is certainly a high class establishment—an establishment nicer than any you’ve been to before. Bucky gets out of the car, rushing to let you out. As you get out of the car, he offers his keys to the valet and his arm to you. You glance briefly at his arm and give him an annoyed look as you loop your arm through his.

Bucky escorts you to the double glass doors that lead to the restaurant where a doorman waits to open the door for you. You say “thank you” as you pass and Bucky gives you an unreadable look. Then, once inside the restaurant, Bucky whispers something to the host who nods and leads you towards the back and up some stairs that lead to a glass enclosed landing where two guards stand on either side of the door leading to the rooftop seating. Bucky lets go of your arm and steps forward as the male security guard mirrors him. The guard pats Bucky down, finds a handgun tucked away in a holster at his waist, takes it, and then allows him to step to the side so that you may take your turn.

Your breathing picks up ever so slightly as you watch Bucky get frisked, especially once you realize they’re going to frisk you, too. You start to worry when you realize they’re going to find a weapon on you—how is that going to play out? Will Bucky go back on his word? Will he kill you? Then, when they take away Bucky’s weapon, you remind yourself to breathe normally and regain some confidence. He brought a gun, too: he doesn’t trust you and you don’t trust him.

You step forward, making eye contact with Bucky the whole time. You hold your arms out ever so slightly as the female guard steps forward to frisk you. You raise an eyebrow—maybe you’re challenging him to do something—when the guard finds your gun and pulls it out of your waistband. She holds it up and offers you a “seriously?” look, which you see in your peripheral. You shrug at her, eyes still on Bucky. He’s smirking.

The two of you are then led by the host through the guarded door to a single table that sits on the balcony. The balcony has been well decorated with myriad plants and string lights. There’s soft music playing in the background. Bucky pulls out a chair for you and you sit, watching as he takes the seat across from you. The two of you just watch each other as the host offers you menus and promises a waiter will be with you soon. Once the host is gone, the two of you sit, watching, waiting.

“Lovely weather we’re having,” you finally say, picking up the menu. If he isn’t going to say anything, you decide, you’re going to play coy.

Bucky raises his eyebrows, letting out a laugh and looking away before returning is gaze to you.

“You brought a gun to our date,” he says.

“So did you,” you reply, still looking at the menu. “Is the chicken alfredo any good here?”

“What for?” He asks, ignoring the alfredo question.

You sigh, setting down the menu. “Why did you?”

“You held me at gunpoint the last time we met. How was I to know you wouldn’t try to finish the job?”

“I held you at gunpoint the last time we met, but I had you tied up. How was I to know you wouldn’t take the shot now that your hands aren’t tied?”

“We’re here because I already shot my shot.”

“Clever.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’ve given you every reason to.”

He laughs humorlessly. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done it already?”

“Why am I here, James? Why don’t you want to hurt me? Aren’t you supposed to be some big, scary crime lord? Because you’re not living up to your name.”

Bucky clenches his jaw and looks away. You think you’ve maybe finally struck a nerve, finally gone too far.

“Have you ever once considered, Y/N, that maybe—just maybe—I’m a person, too? Did you ever think you were capable of threatening someone’s life until necessity made you?” You flinch. He notices. “I have a shitty job. I do shitty things. I do even shittier things to even shittier people. But it’s the job I was given, the job I have, and the job I do. Maybe I’m a monster, a freak, an emotionless robot, but maybe that’s just what I have to be so I don’t go crazy. At the end of the day, I’m just a man who wants to live his life, so forgive me for wanting to do that.”

Bucky is breathing erratically. He’s worked up. You stare, mouth slightly agape, surprised. You have a feeling he’s felt this way a while and never had the chance to voice it, but you also realize that your existence in his life might be more to him than just some girl who wants her sister back, some girl who extorted him.

“You actually like me,” you say, genuinely surprised.

He looks at you, eyes softening and looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got terrible taste.”

He laughs. “That so?”

“I never even introduced myself. You clearly only know my name because you know who my sister is and put two and two together. I’ve been terrible to you. I mean, I have my totally logical and understandable reasons, but I’ve been terrible.”

“That’s true, but I was holding your sister hostage. Not the best conditions. I’m sure she’s thrilled about all this.” He gestures to the table in front of you, the two of you.

“She recognizes I’m cleaning up her mess.”

Bucky looks at you, expression sad.

“Cleaning up her mess,” he repeats quietly. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, louder, more confident.

“What?”

“This date. You don’t want to be here. You’re not interested. I get it. You’re cleaning up your sister’s mess. You can just go,” he says, looking far off onto the horizon. “Don’t worry about Ellie. Her debt’s forgotten.”

You don’t move. You sit, you stare, you chew your lip, and you consider the man in front of you. You consider the handsome, powerful, sad man in front of you who—to your surprise—is genuinely interested in you. You make a decision.

You hear your chair scrape against the floor as you stand up and start to walk back towards the door. You take a few steps past Bucky, turn around, and walk back to the table. You stop right beside Bucky and hold out your hand. Bucky looks at your hand outstretched to him and trails his eyes up to you, and you watch as he carefully searches your face.

“Hi,” you say, smiling. “I’m Y/N. Mind if I join you for dinner?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin as he takes your hand, grasping it firmly as he shakes it. “Bucky,” he greets, playing along. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01

[nmakii]

everything is blue!

— what colors do kunigami + bachira + kaiser + rin + nagi + otoya + nanase love in?

u guys can argue that they see love differently, but i j thought this was cute. tried another format for this btw lmk wyt

the deep maroon shade of the roses he buys for you; the scarlet stains you leave on his lips. rensuke kunigami sees love in red. yes, it’s pretty boring— maybe even expected from a good guy like him. but, it’s what he grew up associating love with, so why should anyone expect anything different from him? his scars and cuts all bleed red, the color of his love for you. it’s a fiery color that expresses all of his affections and desire to be your one and only in one simple shade. every piercing sun rise that overwhelms the gloomy dark sky with a burning red as he takes his morning jog reminds him of his passion for you. it also reminds him to work out, just so he’s strong enough to be your man— someone who’s strong enough to keep you safe from the world’s troubles, and be your hero. every valentine’s day, the corridors of his school are filled with red cut out hearts, and the only thing he can think about is you; the owner of his heart and body. to kunigami, red is love, and love is you.

the gentle flutter of a monarch butterfly landing on your nose after the two of you went butterfly catching; the orange juice that spills on to the plate after you had asked him to peel your orange. meguru bachira sees love in orange. he’s never had a friend he can trust will stay before. so when he falls for you, he falls hard and fast. no one else besides his mother has understood what he meant by his monster. so, it left him unbelievably jaw-dropped and star-struck when you told him of a similar monster that haunted you. his eyes shone a bright marigold to learn more about you and your monster; an imaginary friend that made life just as exciting for you as his has made soccer fun for him. all of a sudden, all he could think about was you, and how much he wanted to know everything about you. his mind— once filled with only hope for the next day to come, so that he could play more soccer, was suddenly overflowing with excitement for the next time he could talk to you again. just imagine— the lonely, weird kid finally meeting his match. but hey, misery loves company, right? who cares if the world is against him? fitting in would be too boring anyways. he’d rather have one person who understands him, than a world that supports him. they say that the color orange isn’t rare in nature. but, it isn’t common either. the same could be said for bachira. people who tolerate and accept him such as isagi, nagi, or aryu are a dime a dozen amongst geniuses such as himself. but, to find someone like you who can understand his eccentricity and what he means below the surface-level— you’re his one of a kind gem. one that’s his, and his alone.

the champagne blonde strands of hair that flow through your fingers; the gold rays of sun that shone on his skin after another win as he ran to the stands to kiss you. michael kaiser sees love in yellow. he really didn’t expect to fall in love with you. he kept trying to push you away by any means— undermining you, ignoring you, even physically pushing you away! but, your stubborn ass never got the point, and just thought that he’s always like that. that’s how he treats ness after all, so he just teases people he likes! your persistence eventually wore off his walls, and he finally allowed himself to be vulnerable. he finally let you into his life, and against his better judgment, told you about his mental scars. now, you were simply just too dangerous of a person to push away now, he’s told you far too much. well… he doesn’t see himself pushing you away anytime soon though. he’s found himself to be much more fond of your presence. when he’s with you, everything feels okay. he doesn’t question if he’s worthy of all this happiness— you make him forget all of it. after the cold winter of his childhood, spring has finally came. it’s why he buys you daffodils, instead of the roses he loves so much. while roses, blue ones, represent the impossible becoming reality, daffodils represent a new beginning— one where he hopefully doesn’t need to cling relentlessly to the past to evolve, and instead evolves to become a man you can proudly say you’re dating.

the sound of your footsteps on a football field after he practiced into the night for the nth time; the cute cactus plushie he won for you after you told him how cute it was. rin itoshi sees love in green. he knows that after his big brother abandoned him, he hasn’t been the kindest of people. which is why he was so confused as to why you still stayed. you were amazing— you could certainly have any other guy. but, you still wanted him! why is that? why do you want sae itoshi’s stupid little brother? after another night of questioning himself, he’s found his answer when you talk him through his emotions, and help him sort out his problems. it was because you actually cared for him. you knew rin isn’t as indifferent as he pretend to be. there was more to him than that. but, he’s wrapped that part of himself in chains and spikes, making sure he doesn’t get hurt again. he wasn’t sure if he could ever love the same way again. but, just as a plant needs tender care to grow, he needs you to be patient with him to let him heal and carefully take down the walls he built ever so meticulously.

the denim jeans you wear when he takes a nap on your lap; the stone color of the usually bright sky when it rains, which makes you have to stay the night in his apartment again. seishiro nagi sees love in blue. just like how he can rely on the sun to rise again the next day, nagi knows that he can always rely on you to be honest with him. his trust with you runs deeper than skin and bones. he knows he isn’t the most ideal boyfriend, he’s always afraid that you might leave him for someone who’s more outgoing with him one day. but, he always manages to remind himself that you’d tell him if he was lackluster in a certain way. but just because you’re saying he’s doing nothing wrong, it doesn’t mean he’s gonna remain the same lazy genius. for you, he’ll always try to improve and evolve to be someone whom you can rely on as well. like the bright blue sky that wakes everyone up in the morning every day without fail, nagi will never forget the moment you jumped into his life and promised that you’d stay until the end of times.

the bright mauve lights in the karaoke room whilst the two of you sang ‘i wanna dance with somebody’ by whitney houston; the vibrant violet takis bag carelessly dropped on the floor after the two of you fell asleep marathoning the harry potter series during the weekend. eita otoya sees love in purple. even though he was quite the lover-boy, he found relationships quite exhausting. having to date a high maintenance girl that needed to constantly go on dates and be given gifts was something that killed his vibe; very unenjoyable. so, he enjoyed it when he finally found you; someone who didn’t need the high life to have a good time. whether it’s the both of you speeding his car at 1 AM with some of your friends after blowing through 3 weeks worth of allowance money in one night, or staying over at your place and just doing whatever little arts and crafts sounded fun that day, you always had fun as long as the both of you were together. sure, at first, he just wanted to have some fun until the next one came along… but, he finally found himself to be enamored with someone. it isn’t so bad if he just doesn’t tell you that, right? all’s well that ends well..? either way, he finally feels fulfilled in a relationship, and like he might actually stay for a while this time. it’s fun, fresh, but still deep with an unspoken connection— just like the royal eloquence, yet playfulness, of purple.

the rosy blush of his cheeks when he saw you for the first time; the cherry blossom kitkats he shaped into a heart for your first valentine’s as a couple. nijiro nanase sees love in pink. being from the countryside of japan, he’s a stereotypical country boy. he was raised well by his grandparents, he’s been taught well in the likes of chivalry, and he’s unbelievably naive. oh, to be looked at the same way as the way nanase’s eyes gleam— star struck, at the sight of you. now, he doesn’t know what to do! his hearts’s all… what’s the word…? thumpy thumpy..! he can’t help, but get jittery whenever you’re around. this is what love feels like? it feels good! he wants to feel this fluttery feeling all the time. and to have that, he has to be your boyfriend. nothing can compare to the feeling of first love— slowly falling deeper and deeper into a pit that swallows him from the inside out. he feel like he’s drowning, but at the same time, it’s so gratifying, he can’t help but get addicted to the sound of syllables falling from your heaven-sent lips. he can tell you’re new at this too. you’re nervous— maybe even more nervous than him. but, hey! that’s alright. the two of you will go by this whole relationship thingy step by step. like how a pink rose is so delicate that it falls apart when crushed by the fist, he’ll make sure to be careful with your heart. as long as you promise to be careful with his.

[tiamathh]

METAMORPHOSIS - CHANGES IN YOUR LIFE

Note: Hello! Thank you for waiting! I hope everyone's doing well, stay hydrated loves 🤭 <33 Check out my Masterlist for more! <3 LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE V APPRECIATED!!

1 -> 3

Do not plagiarise, reword, steal, repost or replicate my work!

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Pile 1

The next phase in your life is going to include you moving away from home. This can either include you moving out of your actual house and living independently or you distancing yourself from the familiarity of what feels like home and trying to step out of your comfort zone. You are supposed to be going on a journey or a trip and this is actually going to be life changing for you. If you have a trip marked on your calendar let me tell you something, you're going to be feeling very in touch with your emotions, if you've built walls around you or are someone who frequents the phrase "why am I supposed to care?" etc to protect yourself from caring too much because you think it's cringe or it makes you uncomfortable, times are changing finally. You're going to be owning the way you feel, you're going to be more open about how you feel and give yourself space to be more vulnerable around the people you love and cherish, not feeling like you have to keep up the "tough" image and truly letting yourself live laugh love.

You are entering a time where your relationships are going to be flourishing, some of you have been through a rough few months when it comes to the people around you, you may be feeling used, betrayed, cheated or even sidelined by them. However new people are coming into your life, they're not only going to be on the same level as you but they'll also be people who will be a little contrasting personality wise like they'll fill the gaps for example if you're not good at communicating but they are and if they're not good at being vulnerable but you are, there's going to be a very healthy exchange of energies and it will help you maintain a sense of self without being overly dependent on them or developing a codependent relationship. Also I have to mention you're finally going to be getting a break, you'll get time to rest and relax and just take a seat because a lot of work you may have done in the past, and this I'm getting could be referring to the past few years related to academics or career, is going to be bearing fruit, making life feel more easy breezy for you lot!

Pile 2

Really good messages coming in for you pile 2! To begin with you may have been feeling a little stagnant lately, not in a bad way, just in a "stuck in a monotonous routine" kind of way, where there's nothing wrong but it just feels full and unexciting. That's changing for you, you're going to be entering a time of your life where things will still be peaceful and calm just slightly more fast paced so that you have to work harder to keep up. Anyone that you haven't moved on from in the past, or even anything maybe people maybe situations, you're going to be shedding off that old skin and almost starting over, there will be a new chapter which will be making you feel more enthusiastic about life. You're realising that you don't need to carry the weight of your past around and are going to be putting yourself out there more, you'll be healing and maybe working with balancing your energies. During this time it would be good for you to engage with energy healing or chakra work as well as soundbaths.

After a long while, you'll be more comfortable being alone, you won't be feeling lonely when you're alone but rather use that time for introspection and working on yourself. This time alone will give you a lot of insight about what you actually want when you strip away everything that society or societal norms tell you you need to achieve. Who would you want to be in life if you didn't have any obligations to anyone? Those are the kinds of questions you will be answering and it'll make you more confident in your skin as well, because you'll truly realise who you are and what you want. I keep seeing the fool so this also shows to me that there's a new chapter opening for you, one where you can make mistakes, you SHOULD make mistakes so that you can learn and grow without dire consequences looming over you. Fresh starts are great for that <33

Pile 3

Hi Pile 3! I feel like with this pile, some of you may be struggling a LOT with breaking past patterns, you may be unable to get out of bad habits because you feel comfortable in that pattern of predictability even if it's bad for you, even against your good judgement. For some of you this could be addiction, which is very difficult to deal with and I'm sorry if any of you are going through that, addiction doesn't necessarily have to be related to substance abuse (even if it could be) it can also be related to shopping or escapism and you will be finding yourself being free of it soon. World has been feeling too fast for you as opposed to the other piles, so for you things are finally slowing down, you're nowhere near the completion of a cycle, in fact you may have started one the end of this August/start of September, so you still have a few months for the cycle to end, it'll probably end somewhere next year around February or March (probably March end though). You need to realise that this is the phase of your life you should focus on, going slow is a good thing! It means you can check yourself and your surroundings, that you can be more present in moments in your daily life, that you can cherish the people and situations around you.

This is a time in your life where you'll be celebrating your wins a lot more, you'll be building your wealth and earning, also a lot of savings! You'll be saving money, bringing down your spending and truly deciding what you need to buy and what you will use if you buy it, so a lot more thought will go into where you're putting your money.

Lastly, if you feel like you've been wronged recently, don't worry, divine justice is in the works, you were "betrayed" or "misled" by someone so that you could be removed for a situation where you had no growth potential, doesn't mean it was right though, neither was the gaslighting that came after (ultra specific) and the person or people who did this will get theirs in due time and you may be present to witness it front row!

All Rights Reserved tiamathh©® DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, STEAL!

[janeyseymour]

I Hate You, I Love You- part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Christmas Eve with your family leads you to have a certain revelation.

WC: ~2.5k

You and your ‘girlfriend’ make it down the steps with your fingers interlaced, and you seriously hate the way that it makes you feel things that you know you shouldn’t be feeling for Melissa. You hate her- or you’re supposed to. No, you do. You have to. You always have, and you always will. 

Still, you walk down the steps with a practiced ease. Nobody is here yet though, so you take a spot on the couch with your dad while Melissa opts to kiss your cheek and let you know that she’s going to see if there’s any last minute jobs in the kitchen. Your eyes once again linger on the red haired woman’s hips as she makes her way into the kitchen.

Your father coughs awkwardly to gain your attention.

“Hm?”

“Kid, you really have it bad for her, don’t you?” your dad chuckles.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” he leans over and wraps an arm around you. You can’t but lean into his embrace. “I haven’t seen anyone look at you like that, and I haven’t seen you look at anyone the way you do Melissa since…”

“Since Todd,” you whisper. Your dad nods silently. You look to him with vulnerable eyes. “She’s… she’s something alright.”

“In the best ways, yes?” your father prompts quietly.

You just nod, and then your ‘girlfriend’ is making her way into the room, yet another glass of wine in hand for you. She settles in next to you on the couch, drapes an arm around you, and rests her head on your shoulder.

“Mom didn’t have anything for you to do in there?” you ask her quietly as you kiss red hair.

“Her and Jo are flying around like chickens with their heads cut off in there. I figured I would be more of a hindrance than a help,” Melissa chuckles softly.

It’s a bit later that your family comes in, and you’re forced to introduce Melissa as your girlfriend to everyone there. She smiles and shakes hands, works her charm, and you can tell that your family is loving having the redhead there. You’re given quite a few impressive hums and thumbs ups as your family makes their way in. The redhead stays close to you as your family members come in. Her hand is always on some part of your body, whether that be on your back, your shoulder, or your hands are entwined. You don’t hate it.

Light conversation is made, just pleasantries and catching up on life at first as everyone makes their way in. You don’t engage much, trying to keep Melissa in the loop with who is who.

But then you settle in for dinner, Melissa on your right, and most eyes turn to you.

“What?” you ask with a raised brow. “Is there something you all know that I don’t?”

Your Uncle Ron laughs. “Kid, I think it’s that you know something the rest of us don’t.” When you give him a blank stare in return, he gestures to Melissa.

“I already introduced you all to her,” you roll your eyes. “This is Melissa, my girlfriend.”

“And?” you Aunt Betty prompts. “How did you meet? When did you realize you two had a thing for each other? How long have the two of you been dating? You know, other stuff like that?”

“Am I being interrogated?” you question with a brow raised, the other furrowed. When your family just continues to look at you with bated breath, you huff out, “You guys are ridiculous.”

Melissa playfully rolls her eyes and sets a gentle hand on your knee. “C’mon, babe. If you won’t tell ‘em, I will.”

Both of your eyebrows creep up your forehead, and you gesture for her to continue. “Be my guest, hun.”

So Melissa takes a breath and begins. “I started workin’ at Abbott a while ago… longer ago than I really care t’admit. An’ I really only had a couple of friends at work. Nobody really seemed worthy of getting to know. Until… Y/N. I usually hate newbies, and I wasn’t willing to make an exception for my new grade level partner, but there was something about her. Something in the way that she stood up for what she thought was right, the way she speaks to the children and holds them to the highest expectations while still providing them with unconditional love and care. Somehow, Y/N wormed her way into my heart- as a professional. And then slowly, as she started to let more of herself shine through, I found myself entranced with her.” Green eyes are trained on you, and you can see the amount of love she has for you- fake love. “I found myself slowly fallin’ for her.”

She presses a soft kiss to your cheek, and you have to cough awkwardly to let out the gasp that your body wants to release. She said those words in such a convincing way that you almost believe her. Unbeknownst to you, her words are genuine. 

“And when did the two of you finally get your heads out of your asses and start dating?” your father asks.

“It took a while, but I broke down her walls, walls I would usually have up myself. But we’ve been dating since almost the beginning of this school year when I finally just made a move, and I haven’t been happier,” Melissa tells your family as she continues to look at you in a lovesick way. “I ain’t lettin’ her go any time soon.”

The blush in your cheeks is clear now. You smile and press a quick kiss to her lips before sighing. “Enough about us though.” And then you turn your attention to your cousin and her new job.

Melissa insists on helping clean up dinner and bring out desserts. Of course she does, because she’s the perfect fake girlfriend. Maybe she isn’t though, because that means that you’re obligated to help. You don’t do much- you never do much to help clean up after a day of cooking. So instead, you keep your arms around your ‘girlfriend’s’ waist and rest your chin on her back. Every so often, you’ll kiss her shoulder blade or detach yourself briefly to take a sip of the sangria she had poured for you.

Before you can even think about going to the dessert table for the two of you, the redhead has taken it upon herself to make you up a plate, and she takes some for herself. She knows that you prefer to have tea with your dessert as opposed to coffee that is normally offered. Melissa saunters over to the teapot and fills it with hot water for you. In no time flat do you have your favorite desserts and a warm mug of chai tea to warm your already soothed soul.

But then everything is cleaned, desserts are handed out to the rest of your family, and you’re settling on the couch again. Melissa sits first, and then she practically tugs you into her lap. It’s warm, it’s cozy. You can’t deny that your bodies fit together well.

She seamlessly places herself into your family, and you hate it. You hate the fact that she knows just what to say and do to win over your family. You hate that she’s warm and loving, and she’s being the exact opposite of the woman you know. You sit quietly with her as she jokes with your cousins, completely lost in thought. There was something about the way that your father told you that you had it bad for the redhead next to you and the looks that she was giving you at dinner. Your whole body tenses as you realize: you just might be falling for this side of Melissa.

“Hun?” the redhead furrows her brow and turns to you, concerned. “You okay?”

Of course she would notice the rigidness in your body. You blink a few times before putting on that practiced easy smile of yours. “Yeah, just got a chill.”

“I can fix that.” Your colleague shifts you off of her slightly before standing and fetching a blanket from the bin. She settles back into the cushions before draping the throw over the two of you. For good measure, she pulls you in close, wrapping her arms around you, and kisses your head. “Can’t have my girl cold, now can I?”

Your favorite cousin just glances at you with a smirk, and then she looks at Melissa and makes a whip noise. Your ‘girlfriend’ scoffs, but she presses another kiss to your head as you rest it on her shoulder.

It’s a long while before you finally decide that you need some sleep. Christmas morning may be a lazy morning in your house, but it’s always an early morning. 

With a soft sigh, you turn to the redhead next to you. “You about ready to head up?”

“Yeah, if you are,” she mumbles into your hair.

The two of you climb the steps, and you’re oddly quiet as you prepare for bed. Once all of your makeup is washed away and you’re changed, Melissa is already in bed with her glasses on the tip of her nose and scrolling through her phone.

You crawl under the covers and sigh deeply.

“Penny for your thoughts?” your colleague asks you softly.

You hum. You can’t tell her that your mind is whirling with thoughts of how you may actually be falling for this side of her- not the real Melissa, but this fake Melissa that she’s come up with for this elaborate lie of yours. “Just tired. Today was a lot.”

“Yeah,” the redhead chuckles. “But your family is real nice, and I think they believe we’re together.”

You just nod and turn on your side facing away from her. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” Melissa tells you. You don’t see the way that she looks at you longingly. You don’t see the way that her eyes go soft as she glances at you laying in bed next to her, how her green orbs clearly convey that she wants to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight the way that she has been all night. No, your back is turned to her as your mind goes a mile a minute thinking about what you think you may be feeling.

You feel the redhead shift to lay down in the bed a few minutes later, and the glow of her phone disappears as she sets it on the nightstand. A couple seconds later you hear her glasses being folded and deposited next to her phone.

Melissa lays down in the bed on her side, but she’s facing you. It’s not her fault, that’s just how she’s always slept- on her right side. And it’s not like you know she’s facing you. It takes everything in her to not cozy up behind you and pull you against her. Instead, she closes her eyes and hopes that she doesn’t snore tonight.

When you’re certain the redhead beside you is asleep, breathing evenly, you turn as gently as you can in the bed to face her. She’s… she’s beautiful. She looks so at peace. There’s a lot of things you can say about Melissa Schemmenti, but unattractive is not one of those things. In this moment, you can allow yourself to daydream about what a life with this version of Melissa might be like- she’s treated you like a princess since getting to your parents’ house, a far cry from how she acts around you at Abbott.

As you drift off to sleep, the cliched sugar plum fairies don’t dance around in your head. No, instead you dream of what you think might be an ordinary day with Melissa in your life as your partner, and not just your fake one.

The two of you share a wonderful, homemade breakfast together in her house, she drives you to work, kisses are stolen in the break room and in the classroom. And while she still has the edge to her that Miss Schemmenti has, there’s still that sparkle of the warmth that she’s shown you she has outside of work. You find that when she makes a snarky comment in your dream, you don’t hate it. You don’t even dislike it. You can hear yourself chuckling in your dream. That image blurs into another, and you’re just laying on the couch. A shimmer catches your eye as you lay on her, hand resting on her collarbone. There’s a sparkling ring set on your finger. When you look down, there’s a matching one on her own left hand. You hear a baby crying from just up the way, and you sigh. 

Melissa just buries a kiss in your hair. “I got it if she doesn’t settle in the next five minutes.” When the crying doesn’t stop, your… is she your wife now in this dream? Your wife shimmies you off of her and heads up the steps. A few moments later, she returns with a little girl in her arms, one that is a spitting image of you.

“Oh honey,” you instinctively reach for the two year old, at least that’s where you would estimate she is in age.

“Baby girl just wanted Momma,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully. “Never Ma, always Momma, ain’t that right, Sara?”

The little girl just gives a toothy grin as she lays her head on your shoulders.

You sit upright in the bed as your dream jolts you awake. Your heart is racing. Why were you married to Melissa? Why did you have a child together? What the fuck? The redhead beside you doesn’t so much as stir, still fast asleep. The breath is taken from your lungs as you realize: you’re actually falling for Melissa Schemmenti.

When you wake up for the second time that day, you once again wake with a jolt. Your arms are wound around Melissa’s waist, your face is buried in her chest, your limbs are intertwined with hers. Her arm is slung over your own body.

The woman next to you just groans and pulls you closer. You can’t deny that she’s warm. You can’t deny that you don’t hate waking up like this. It’s comfortable, and you don’t wake up freezing your ass off for once.

“Lis,” you mumble.

“Shut up, and go back to sleep,” she grumbles. She buries a kiss in your hair. Okay, you know she’s still half asleep. She wouldn’t do that if she was fully awake and it was just the two of you. And while her telling you to shut up would normally infuriate you to no end, you don’t seem to mind this time. You settle back into her hold with a soft sigh and allow your eyes to flutter shut again. Christmas morning and presents can wait if it means you'll get some extra time in the warmth of your colleague.

TAGS (and let me know if you want to be added): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @therightdimple

[dyingswanpavlova]

Secret affairs || 》 Aemond Targaryen 《 OneShot

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister!reader

warnings: sorry guys, I'm new to this, I'd say probably mild smut? And also, incest between siblings obviously, a few curse words. Also the dinner scene is a little violent. Love y'all!

summary: Aemond has always found comfort in the loving arms of his sister, that's exactly what he does after his brawl with Jace at the family dinner.

It had been obvious, considering the ridiculous tension in the room. But the moment, Jace and Helaena started dancing, without Aegon bashing anyone's head in, I had considered us to be safe.

But Luke just had to laugh.

At him.

The moment he slammed his hand on the table, followed by a "final tribute", I knew we were done. But I also did not try to stop him. What good was there in it? I could not have prevented it anyway, he was too stubborn and too proud. My seemingly level-headed brother who also was also a brooding, ticking bomb, just waiting to explode.

"To these three...Strong...boys."

"I dare you to say that again."

"Why? 'twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?"

The next thing I saw was how Jace punched him right in the face. I instinctively jumped up - as if I could have done anything to help - but to no one's great surprise, Aemond did not even flinch. He did not even spill the wine from his goblet. The next moment, he tilted his head to the side and pushed Jace to the ground. Luke jumped up as well, only to have Aegon slam his head into the table.

Everyone was screaming and hissing wildly, but Aemond watched with a smug expression as guards pulled the boys back, only to be confronted by Rhaenyra and Daemon.

I finally woke up from my trance and rushed forward, gripping his elbow tightly.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked and sighed.

He was actually calm, which made the situation all the more unnerving. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at me.

"Jace swung first. I was merely speaking my mind. You should be happy.”

I rolled my eyes.

"That may be technically true, but we both know you provoked him. We barely made peace with them."

Aemond gave me a glare. He didn’t like when I was the logical one, especially when it came to the situation at hand.

“And why should I care? Luke’s a bastard.”

"Shh."

I grabbed his hand and dragged him away from the tumult.

"Are you trying to get your tongue cut out?"

He pulled his elbow out of my grip. He hated that.

“What? It’s the truth.”

He crossed his arms again. So stubborn. I hated that.

"I know it's the truth. But don't you remember the last time we discussed this so openly, hm?" I pointed at his eye patch. "Mother barely talked father out of having you sharply questioned, just hours after you lost your eye. Aemond..." I lowered my voice.

"Father will always be on their side, you know that."

He was silent for a brief moment, before rolling his eye in annoyance.

“I am perfectly aware of that.”

He huffed before grabbing my arm and pulling me behind one of the pillars so no one would overhear.

Behind the pillar he was closer to me than he had been all night. His one hand was on my arm, keeping it from moving, but the other was gently placed on my waist, to keep me in place as well. His face was completely stoic, yet I could tell there was anger and frustration bubbling up within him.

“I am not an idiot. I know father does not care about me or any of us. I am well aware that he would choose Jace or Luke over us, any day.”

My expression softened and I gently touched his cheek.

"I know they're bastards, Aemond. And I'm not angry at you for provoking that fight. I'm just worried about you."

His body seemed to relax as I touched his cheek. Yet, he stubbornly still refused to show any proper emotions.

“Worried about me? I can take care of myself. You don’t need to protect me.”

"Yes, I do. In fact, we need to stand up for each other. You, Aegon, Helaena, mother and me. Because no one else cares about us." I said firmly.

He hated admitting it but I was completely correct. He did not speak for a moment. He still held me close, refusing to let go even as he looked at me.

“That does not change the fact that they are bastards. That does not change the fact that Jace will be heir to the throne one day, simply because Rhaenyra is a whore.”

"Aemond." I said sharply and glanced around. Everyone was busy chattering wildly in a mess.

He grunted as he moved towards me, pinning me lightly against the pillar with his body. His hands went to my waist, just to hold me in place as he bent his head so it was next to my ear.

“You may be the only person I love in this family, but that does not mean I will not speak the truth if I want to.”

I closed my eyes.

"I..."

I swallowed.

"I'm not asking you to stop. Just...not here. If someone overheard that, Aemond...It would be considered treason." I said quietly.

His one, amethyst coloured eye shut as his head stayed close to mine. His body was still pressed against me, keeping me trapped between him and the pillar.*

“You are too soft, you know that? Too scared. Father would not care if someone overheard us.”

I scoffed.

"Father would have our tongue cut out in no time if it meant he would protect Rhaenyra and his precious succession."

He growled softly in annoyance as he pulled away from me, still keeping me caged in with his arms, but not as close as before.

“Damn him. One of his bastard grandchildren could do the worst thing in the world and he would still protect them until he dies. But then he would not bat an eye if anything happened to any of us. I mean hell, I lost an eye and he did not give a damn.”

"Do not remind me." I almost hissed. I remembered that day vividly. Aemond did not even shed a single tear, except for when the panic coursed through his body, right after it had happened. Later on he only said Do not mourn me mother. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon. While I had spent all night sobbing.

He heard my hiss, and he immediately felt guilty. He knew that day effected me, maybe more than it effected him. His voice had become much softer as he spoke again.

“I have not forgotten the look on your face.”

He gently grabbed my chin, forcing my head up gently to look at him.

“It was like you were the one who lost an eye.”

I reached out and gently trailed my fingertips along the outline of his eyepatch.

"If only it had been me." I said quietly.

His eye shut as I grazed his eyepatch. He hated when I said things like that.

“Do not ever say that.”

He suddenly grabbed my wrist, so I would stop touching the eyepatch. He could tolerate a lot of things being said about his missing eye, but the one thing he could not take was when I made that comment.

He gripped my wrist tightly as he continued to hold it. He could still remember how upset I was that night. How I cried and cried and how nothing he could say seemed to calm me down. He even remembered holding me that night, just so I would calm down.

He pulled my arm gently, forcing me flush against him once more as he leaned down so he was once again close to my ear.

“The look on your face that night, seeing me all bloodied up and missing my eye…I do not want to ever see that look on you again.”

I sighed deeply. "I felt like I was dying."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest to hide it. I sniffled softly but somehow I had to smile.

"I still cannot believe you had to comfort me."

He instinctively wrapped his arms around my waist when I held onto him. He even smiled slightly as well as I buried my face in his chest.

“You could not handle the sight. You are too soft and emotional.” He teased.

I shook my head.

"It was not the sight that made me go insane that night. It was...you. It happened to you of all people."

Aemond’s heart skipped a beat when he heard me say that. He was quiet for a brief second. A thousand feelings and thoughts passed through his mind. Yet his voice was quiet and soft, almost sheepish even after a second.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I pulled my head back and gently cupped his face in my palms.

"It means, I love you and you got hurt that day. And that almost killed me." I said quietly.

He felt a shiver go down his spine when I gently cupped his face. No one had ever touched him, especially his scarred face, with that sort of gentleness. No one but me. He found himself leaning into my touch, his eye closing for a moment.

“It is just an eye, Venice.”

His voice was uncharacteristically soft. He hated feeling vulnerable. It was one of his only weaknesses- me.

"Not to me." I whispered back.

He was silent again. He suddenly felt like that night again. When I had cried and begged and pleaded for him to be more careful. How I had wrapped his face in a cloth and tended to his eye, while trying to keep his face hidden from others.

His voice was still soft, as if something in his mind had suddenly snapped. He swallowed as his hands held onto my waist.

“You love me too much, you know that?”

I smiled gently.

"I am well aware." I said quietly. "I cannot help it."

He was quiet for a moment, soaking in my words, soaking in my touch. He suddenly pulled me fully against his body. My head tucked under his chin so he could hold me as close to him as he could.

“You are being ridiculous.”

Yet he could not deny that he craved my love and affection all the time. He was desperate for my attention.

I laughed softly.

"And you are an emotional cripple." I teased.

He chuckled lowly as he held me even closer with one arm, while the other hand went to my waist once more. He suddenly grabbed a little tighter at my hip. He loved my teasing. No one had ever spoken to him in such ways before. He knew our father might not even give us a second glance if we were suddenly dead. Mother was trying. In her own way. And failing.

“I am not an emotional cripple. You are just annoying. An annoying brat.”

I smiled warmly and pinched his cheek.

"I know you are not. I was teasing you."

He grunted and made a face as I pinched his cheek. He tried to act annoyed, yet he was actually quite fond of my touch. He suddenly pinched my on your rib, in the same place he knew I was ticklish. Accidentally, of course.

I laughed breathlessly and swatted his hand away.

"Hey!"

“Whoops.”

He said nonchalantly, as if it really was an accident. However he smirked when I swatted his hand away.

"Careful now, little sister. I may have to start tickling you for real.”

I smirked and looked up at him.

"You better not, you know? I fight back."

I bit my lip and my expression turned more serious when I heard how mother apologized to Rhaenyra on our behalf behind the pillar. I sighed and buried my face in his chest again.

"Can I come over later?" I asked quietly.

It was not uncommon. Ever since the eye incident, I would sleep in his bed ever so often. Being near him made my nightmares go away. I felt like the older we got, the more inappropriate it felt, so I would normally sneak into his room after dark.

We had gotten...close, a few times, but I had never misinterpreted it as something meaningful. We simply needed each other...Or at least that was what I told myself.

He quickly noticed my changed demeanor when he heard our mother. He could have scoffed at them, but he was more focused on me at the moment. I looked troubled, clearly upset. He nodded subtly as I asked to come over later. He tried to sound unbothered and indifferent as he responded.

“As if I mind.”

His heartbeat was picking up. Me sneaking over at night had become more normal in the past couples years, ever since he had lost his eye. He would never admit it to out loud, but I knew he preferred having me in his bed.

He glanced down at me as I buried my face into his chest. He suddenly felt extremely protective. He was aware of how inappropriate it probably was to continue having me sleep in his bed. However he was too stubborn to stop it. He had almost become dependent on it over the years, especially after I started becoming much more affectionate towards him as well.

He placed a hand on the back of my head and gently played with my hair as he held le close.

“You are such a needy little brat.”

I smiled faintly.

"But only to sleep." I whispered, not sounding too convincing to my own ears.

He smirked slightly once more as I whispered that to him. He was amused at the fact that I was trying to insist that I only needed him to sleep, and that it was all it was. He was not stupid. He caught all the affectionate gestures, the stares, the looks I would give him. He could tell I was just as dependent on him as he was on me.

“Of course. Only to sleep.”

He said in a sarcastic tone, trying his best to hide the fact that he enjoyed having me in his bed.

I swallowed hard and bit my lip. I intertwined my fingers with his.

"I mean it. We will simply sleep. We cannot continue to..."

I closed my eyes.

"You know what I mean."

That was what I said ever so often and a few days later we would fall back into our old patterns.

He raised an eyebrow when I linked my fingers with his. He could not help but get a little annoyed at the fact that I kept insisting that we both would not do more than sleeping together. He let out a quiet sigh through his nostrils.

“Yes. Only sleep. I got it.”

He responded again in a sarcastic tone. He knew deep down I would probably not keep the promise of never going further. I never did.

As I was holding his hand, he suddenly gave it a slight squeeze. He was growing irritated at how badly he wanted me at that very moment. He did not like the way I made him feel so needy and desperate.

“Just come over after dark, as usual.” He finally spoke again, his voice low and soft. He was trying his best to sound nonchalant about it.

I nodded and squeezed his hands back.

"I will go to my chambers. Promise me you will not get into any more fights tonight?" I said teasingly but there was a hint of concern in my voice as my fingertips gently trailed along his bruised chin.

He rolled his eye and chuckled lowly, finding my request amusing- although he knew deep down I was only half joking. He leaned into the touch of my fingers on his face. He would never be able to say no to me when I was sweet and affectionate with him.

“I promise to be on my best behaviour. No fights, no insults, no snide remarks. I shall behave with the most decorum tonight.”

I smiled sweetly and looked at him for a moment longer before I gently withdrew from his embrace and left the dining hall with quick steps.

*

He reluctantly let me go when I pulled away from his embrace. He wanted me to stay, to continue feeling my body against his and my skin under his fingertips. However he knew it was best to not take the risk of someone seeing us two like that.

He immediately felt antsy and irritated once I was out of sight. All throughout the rest of the dinner, he fidgeted and was restless. He felt extremely distracted. The bastards were back in their quarters, but Aemond could not get his mind off something else entirely.

Once in my room, I took a quick bath and got myself ready for the night. I put on a white nightdress and a white robe. Then I sat down on the bed to read until I was sure that everyone was finally deep asleep. When I thought it to be late enough, I closed my book, opened the door and rushed through the corridor with quick, quiet steps until I reached the door to his bedroom. My steps echoes through the hall, but no soul was close by. I did not bother to knock and quickly vanished inside his bedchambers.

He was laying on his bed, wide awake and reading a book as he waited for me. He had already changed into his nightwear: an all black, satin robe that he wore with nothing underneath. He was slightly frustrated already, having grown very eager and desperate to have me in his arms again. That frustration faded slightly as the door slowly creaked open and I appeared.

He shut his book and set it on the bedside table as soon as he saw me. He sat up, his eye watching me as I practically scurried over to the bed.

He watched as I climbed into his bed on all fours. His heart was beating faster than normal and he was growing impatient. He immediately grabbed me by the hips and pulled me onto his lap. He was in dire need of having me close, having me in his lap, with my legs on either side of his hips.

He was still frustrated and a little irritated, as he wrapped his arms around me in an almost possessive way. His eye darkened as he took in my figure in the white nightdress.

I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his shoulder.

"How was the rest of the dinner?" I muttered.

He let out a sigh, suddenly feeling much, much calmer now that I was in his arms, on his lap. He gently cupped the back of my head and ran his fingers through my hair in a soothing motion. He responded in a low, gruff tone as his eye was still darkened with lust - however, he was trying his best to hide it at the moment.

“It was fine. Aegon was as drunk and as unruly as usual. And Rhaenyra was as stubborn and bitchy as always.” He almost spat the last line, as he had never gotten along with our older half-sister.

I smiled faintly.

"So I did not miss much."

He hummed in acknowledgment as he continued to run his hand through my hair. He was growing more and more eager as he was holding me on his lap. He could already feel his body reacting to my closeness. It was driving him insane having me in his lap, wearing such a sheer and revealing nightdress.

“Just the usual. Nothing of worth happened.” He responded in a slightly distracted tone, as he suddenly grabbed my hips a little harder with his hands.

I closed my eyes. I felt how his body reacted to my proximity and of course, my own did, too.

I swallowed and tried to keep my tone nonchalant. To at least try to stick to my earlier words.

"That is good." I said quietly. "Are you in pain? That punch was pretty nasty, but you did not even flinch."

His eye darkened even more when he heard me question him about his injury, specifically about if it was painful or not. He suddenly gripped my hips even harder, his fingers digging into my skin just barely as he shifted me in his lap, grinding me against him.

“I am unharmed. It was a light punch. I have had worse brawls even with Aegon."

He responded, his eye not leaving the way his hands were gripping my hips, the way my sheer nightdress was almost slipping over my thighs.

I could not help the small gasp that left my lips.

He chuckled lowly when he heard that gasp from me, knowing that he had finally gotten me to slip up and give in to him. He suddenly leaned in against my ear, his breath hot and tickly against me as he spoke in a low, gruff tone.

“Does my needy little sister need me?”

He teased me, as he started slowly grinding me against his lap once again, making sure to make me feel how I was affecting him.

A shiver ran down my spine and I let out the softest whimper. Oh, and how I needed him.

"But...Aemond...I thought, we said..." I protested weakly.

He smirked at the way I was already quivering in his arms from his simple touches, and at the way I mewled and whimpered softly as he ground me against him and his lap. It was like music to his ears, watching me lose my composure so quickly.

“I do not care what you said earlier. We both know you need me just as much as I need you.”

He responded with a harsh tone, and he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

He leaned closer to me, his breath still hot and tickling as it came against my neck now. He roughly grabbed both of my hips with his hands and pulled my body even more tightly against his. He let out a small hiss as he felt my heat rubbing against him, making him feel desperate and needy.

I let out a soft moan and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

"Ah, shit." I whispered breathlessly.

He smiled faintly at my soft moan, his hands grabbing and squeezing my hips roughly as he pulled me even closer to himself. He started slowly grinding me against his lap, the pressure against his own aching length making him even more desperate and needy than he already was.

“Tsk, I told you this was what was going to happen if you came to me. You just cannot resist me, admit it.” *He whispered against my neck, biting and sucking it harshly, leaving marks all the way up to my jawline.

He continued to bite and suck on my neck, leaving a trail of dark marks from my neck to my jaw, marking me as his. He started breathing hard against my skin, desperately gripping m, hips and grinding me against him. He was slowly losing his patience and his control.

“I hope you don’t mind wearing a few extra pretty accessories tomorrow to cover up your neck.” He said in a sarcastic tone in between kisses.

I could not help myself. I rolled over and pulled him along, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Idiot." I whispered breathlessly. "Last time I was covered in hickeys and bite marks for days. It was so hot outside and I had to run around, covered like a Septa. Mother was so suspicious."

He let out a low chuckle against my neck as I pulled him over with me. He immediately grabbed my legs and held them tightly with his hands. He was completely desperate now that I had initiated the move and started to practically take control of the situation.

"I remember. It was hilarious.” He responded with a smirk, still remembering the fun he had whenever he saw a new bruise he had left on my neck or any exposed skin. I ignored his idiocy.

"Kiss me." I whispered and impatiently started undoing the buttons of his night shirt.

He smirked once again when he heard me demand for him to kiss me, and again when he felt me starting to undo the buttons of his nightshirt.

“So impatient…”

He muttered, as he leaned down and finally started to kiss me in a deep, passionate way. It was a kiss full of desperation, all tongue and teeth. He started getting more and more frustrated as he felt me trying to undo his shirt, but just could not quite do it fast enough.

He grabbed one of my hands and suddenly yanked it away from his buttons, pinning it above my head on the pillow. He was now in the position of power, taking back some of the control that I had grabbed from him, and also frustrated at my lack of speed in undressing him.

“Be patient. You are acting like a spoiled child.” He mumbled against my lips in between messy kisses. He started sucking and biting my bottom lip, wanting to hear me mewl from pain and pleasure, which I quickly did.

I moaned softly against his lips and let out a soft whine.

"Come on, do not make me wait. I have not felt you in days." I whispered pleadingly.

He smiled faintly against my lips at the sound of my whiny and pleading tone. He enjoyed how impatient I was, how desperate I was to have him. It was always a massive boost to his ego whenever I expressed just how much I craved him, just how much I needed him.

“You are so whiney.” He mumbled against my mouth again, before quickly ripping the buttons of his nightshirt open, desperate to get it off.

He pulled the buttons all the way, completely opening up his nightshirt and exposing his upper body to me. He was desperate to feel my touch, to feel my hands on his skin, and he was desperate to feel my body against his as well.

“There you go, princess. Happy now?”

He muttered, in a sarcastic tone, before leaning down and kissing me again.

I let out a shuddery breath and kissed him hard while my hands impatiently roamed around his exposed chest.

He smirked against my lips at the way I was roaming my hands all over his chest hungrily. He enjoyed the feeling of my hands raking across his skin, the way I was desperate to touch him, to feel him, and he was desperate to feel me as well.

"Gods, you are so needy… and impatient… always desperate for me to give you what you want, are you not?”

He mumbled against my lips in between messy kisses.

"I cannot help it. You ruined me." I whispered as my lips found his neck.

He let out a low, stifled moan as I started to kiss and suck on his neck. He closed his eye, relishing the feeling of my lips against his skin and the way my body squirmed under him, wanting him. He was losing control and I was only making it worse.

“I know I did… and you are not complaining, are you?”

He responded as he tightened his hold on the hand that he was holding above my head on the pillow, still pinning me down, on my back, beneath him.

He shifted and moved himself lower on the bed so he could lay in between my legs. He started kissing and nipping at my neck, slowly sucking on the skin, leaving a mark, as he started grinding himself against me again.

"You are all mine, princess. You do not need anybody else - you will be mine, always.”

He started whispering in my ear, still grinding and rubbing himself against me, feeling how my body responded instantly to his touch, to his voice in my ear.

I rolled my eyes.

"Do I look like I am complaining?"

I smirked and gently bit his earlobe, only to whisper: "You ruined me. You compromised me. You turned me into a needy, naughty mess. And I loved every second of it."

He let out another low moan as I whispered that statement in his ear. It was like music to his ears, hearing me admit just how desperately I belonged to him and him alone. He smirked, knowing just how much he had completely changed me, how I had been completely transformed, how he had completely conquered me.

He shifted a little, still laying in between my legs, and he started grinding his hips against me harder as he responded.

"And I take great pleasure in the fact that I did that to you.”

"Oh God-" I moaned softly and immediately my hands went down to undo his pants.

He could not hold back the grin on his face when he saw my hands start to hurriedly undo his pants, clearly getting frustrated with the buttons and buckles. He loved how desperate I was for him, how much I wanted him, and how I was getting impatient with the speed.

“So impatient… so needy… desperate for me, are you not?”

He teased and taunted in a gruff, lust-filled tone.

"Aemond, do you not dare tease-"

When I realized he wore nothing underneath, I laughed.

"So much for only sleeping. You planned this."

He let out a low, amused laugh at my reaction when I realized that he was completely naked beneath his pants. He smirked in response to that comment, loving the fact that I had just realized how much he had planned this out. How he had made sure he was ready for me.

“You know me so well, princess. Do you really think that I would just be lying here, fully clothed, waiting for you to come, knowing you would not be able to resist me?”

He responded with a taunting, teasing, tone.

He smirked again, watching the expression on my face before he started to quickly move himself back up towards me and leaned in close to my ear.

“You should know by now that the only thing I am ever thinking about is you… I cannot get you out of my head… the way you look… the way you react when I touch you… the way you moan and cry for me…”

He started whispering in my ear, still grinding against me as he talked.

"Please." I whispered breathlessly. "I...I need you, Aemond. Now."

He could not ignore the pleading and desperate tone in my voice as I whispered to him how I needed him. He loved it. He loved when I got needy and desperate for him and he could not deny that it was turning him on, making him want and crave me as well.

“Beg for me then, princess… beg and I will give you everything you want.”

He responded, in a deep, lust-filled, voice, still grinding against me as he continued to tease and taunt me.

He felt how my body was squirming and writhing beneath him, how I was so desperately trying to touch him, to touch his body. He loved how needy I was becoming, how I was completely falling apart beneath him, completely under his control.

“Go on, my dear… beg for me… if you want me… if you need me… beg me for it.”

He responded, still taunting and teasing me with his deep tone, still grinding against my aching heat, but not giving me quite what I so desperately wanted.

"Please." I whispered, swallowing my pride. "Please, I am begging you, Aemond. Let me feel you."

He felt his control slipping when he heard my pleading, the way I was begging him, the way I was clearly desperate to feel him. My pleading tone, my desperate words, were all feeding his ego.

“Gods, I love it when you’re pleading for me… begging for me like that… desperate for me to give you what you want…My naughty little love." He responded, still taunting and teasing, but his own need and want growing stronger by the second. He could not deny how badly he wanted me as well.

That was when he decided not to torture me any longer. He positioned himself above me and I finally felt him - teasingly, almost painfully slow.

"Oh God, Aemond-"

I let out a shuddery gasp and buried my hands in his silky hair.

He could not tease and taunt me anymore once he had felt me as well. He had teased and edged us both long enough, bringing us both to the brink of desire, and now he could not hold back any longer. He started pushing himself against me, taking his time, and going painfully slow.

“Gods, I’ve wanted this… I’ve craved this all day… I’ve been desperate for you all day…”

He gasped out in a deep and lust-filled tone.

He felt my hands immediately reach out and grab onto his hair, holding on tightly, and he could not hold back a moan at the feeling of my fingers digging into his scalp.

“Gods, I have missed you, sweetheart."

He muttered out between gasps as he continued to push himself against me, still going as painfully slow as possible, to tease me more.

"Please, Aemond. Do not tease me. Not right now." I gasped out.

He smiled.

And then he made me his. Again and again.

And again.

Until the only thing my lips could form was his name.

And on the next day we promised that all we would do would be to sleep.

[marilynthornhilllover]

I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me,

Emily. P x Jennifer. J x Fem!Reader

Warning: talk of drug consumption, reader is high, mood swings, use of guns (weed) , bad flirting, mommy kink, praise kink, teasing, cringe kiss etc .

A/n: I saw that new jennifer and emily episode where Emily was high and they were so cute! Had to make a fic😌

It was that quite long awaited time of the year where criminal agents are given two weeks off from work. You were beyond exhausted but nevertheless was very happy to finally be able to take off your FBI vest and feeling relieved that you won't have to be picking it up for another week or so.

You soon realized that you literally didn't have plans arranged for the upcoming two weeks ahead, or even tonight. Everyone was pairing up as they packed up their office stuff and headed out. Spencer and Derek laughed and gave eachother a high five as they made their way downstairs to sign out while Emily and jj were already giggling about some random joke as they continued to pack up.

You nervously decided to walk up to them standing in the corridor like a shadow making sure not to seem creepy— but maybe you were doing the opposite. Ever since you joined the team, yes you did make friends but no one ever went the extra mile to offer to hang out with you. Only Emily would now and then eat lunch with you at her desk.

Jennifer wasn't bad either, she did offer to help you with a case file once, you went over to her house which you complimented her for the cozy interior, and yes the boys were also good to you but on a employee holiday like this no one was paying any attention whatsoever to you. They already plans of their own.

You on the other hand, had none, all you were gonna do was shower, eat, sleep and repeat for the next week or so. Nothing productive, not as if you had anything to do either. Prentiss and Mantegna had insisted that someone help you with case files so its not as if you have a major cade to crack over the holiday.

You were as free as a bird and your energetic self needed something to reinforce that energy into. If you could have went on a cruise for two weeks you definitely would have.

Emily scoffed at Jennifer's joke before turning around and spotting you cuddled up in the corner like a little mouse. She tilted her head to the side before approaching you with a warm smile.

" hey hon, you got any plans for the holiday?" She asked chewing a piece of gum that she had been for the entire day — somtimes you wonder if any flavour at all is still existence in it.

" uhh nope, but I'll sure my couch has plans for me though" you said sarcastically and of course she laughed, because Emily laughs at anything and everything which you did find cute. Emily always made sure that she kept everyone at a level where they felt at their absolute best when around her.

She was never mean to anyone really. Always funny, ambitious, smart and talented she was everything. Sometimes her aura was just too high, but she was always still approachable and not prideful.

Emily was like one of those drugs that you couldn't stop using because it feels too good, and when you do take it, it altars with your entire brain function and chemistry.

And speaking of chemistry, that was something you and Emily had alot of. Everytime her eyes made contact with yours, you felt as if your body was thrown into the deepest pits of hell. You'd get shivers everytime she passed you or called you a pet name. You'd go completely weak in your knees when she made the littlest amount of psychical contact with your skin — it was absolutely ridiculous just how easily she could get under your skin.

Or the time when you were making coffee in the kitchen and she needed to grab something from the top shelf and she moved you by putting her hands on your hips, with her chest pressed so closely against your back with face by your neck.

Emily made you question things. You knew you always had a thing for older women, always, since highschool and it never seemed to go away. And Emily was exactly your type, you just weren't sure if she felt the same way in return and you didn't wanna ruin the amazing friendship you both had by letting your stupid emotions and hormones get the best of yourself.

" well I'm sure you'll find something to entertain yourself, JJ and I are hooking up at her place tonight for snacks and a movie" she placed hands on her hips are she turned to look at jj who was texting away on her phone before turning back to you. You gaved her a akward smile, before a breathy nervous laugh escaped your mouth.

" hooking up huh" you saw as her eye brows quirked before a sly smile came into evidence on her face and quickly glanced at Jennifer who was now angrily texting before taking a step closer towards you, closing the the last gap space that was there. Her body heat and perfume over took your senses making your breath hitch.

You pressed your palm against her chest sneaking a quick glance at jj and the camera above. Emily was looking at you with a teasing smirk, she leaned down besides your ear and whispered.

" do wanna hook up with me as well?" She pulled back to see the reaction on your face and just as she imagined it was absolutely priceless. She chuckled before pulling away completely.

" oh my God emily would you leave poor y/n alone, let's go already" Jennifer said with a tint of exhaustion and annoyance her voice. Emily chuckled before gently caressing your cheek. The both women waved you goodbye before departing and going their way.

You sighed before picking up your bag and leaving, you locked your office door and went home. You did decided to walk with a few case files home and evidence objects to keep yourself busy during the holiday to stop yourself from going insane from the intense boredom you were prone to have.

— — — —

Emily and Jennifer had just sat down and were about to enjoy their late afternoon with wine and salt and vinegar chips when a continuation of loud knocking could be heard on jj's front door. Both women looked at eachother with utter confusion on their faces — the weren't expecting anyone. Jennifer decided to get up and go check the door, Emily following closely behind with her hand placed tightly on her gun.

The door bell soon started ringing along with the knocks which triggered Jennifer even more. Unlocking the door Jennifer threw it open, not caring what stood on the opposite side of it, after all emily was ready to protect her best friend at all cost, even if it meant shooting someone in their foor.

" if I had my way I swear I would—" as soon as she saw you she stopped talking, her eye brows quirked as she squinted her eyes to make a better appearance of your face in the dim moon light. Emily let out a soft sigh when she saw you but quickly went back into a state of worry at the same time.

Now you had both women wondering what you were doing at their house.

" y/n? I didn't know you were coming over, did Emily invite you?" Jennifer turned around hoping to get a confirmation nod from Emily but she shook her head and pursed her lips, letting her know she was just as confused as her.

" Well aren't you guys a bit rude, aren't you gonna invite me in?" You muttered but before they could react you let yourself in. You carefully walked down the long fancy corridor switching off some lights on your way because they made your eyes burn, making your way to the living room area, having knowing your way around jj's house since the last two times you were there.

You stumbled over the coffee table and landed right onto the sofa, face first with a soft groan. You dropped the ziplock bag of cheese puffs you had brought onto the floor.

She walked up to you and you and sat beside you on the couch, she picked you up by both your forearms and made you look at her.

Both women side eyed eachother, both in desperate need to know what on God's green earth was going on. Jennifer leaned against the wall to further scrutinize you. Emily on the other hand was just worried how you got here on your own with no car or phone.

" hey y/n sweetie are you..... drunk?" Her voice sounded like when water got into a phone speaker and you tried to play a song— you couldn't understand it. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at the table to which your face instantly lit up when you saw the salt and vinegar lays chips.

You grabbed them ferociously then took out some chopsticks you had stuffed in the back pocket of your jeans and started eating the chips. At this point both women were flabbergasted, mouths open, jaws dropped. Jennifer took a deep breath before she turned around and went to her fridge to grab you a drink to help you sober up because it was crystal clear that you were beyond drunk, drunk was an understatement.

" what time is it?" You suddenly asked putting the chips down and dusting off your hands.

" time for some hydration, here you go" Jennifer said as she passed you a bottle of cold cranberry juice. Once again your face lit up like a child on Christmas day.

" ohhhh, it's got what plants crave!" You exclaimed. The look on Jennifer's face when you said that was priceless as Emily silently continued to look at you with a completely blanket stare.

You placed the bottle of juice at the side of your head as if it was an ice pack and burped. You cleared your throat before speaking up again.

" have you guys seen that movie! Idiot city!.... wait city Idiot... wait... yeah" it's like your body was replaced with a child's and this called for huge concern. Emily sighed heavily and took the bottle from your hand.

" Idiocracy?" Jennifer whispered and you nodded.

" I knew I liked you! Ohhh, I and on my way here I saw a cat jumping off your house roof then it turned into a dog and flew away as a mosquito" you said before the loudest laugh took you over that you almost started crying.

Emily whispered " oh good lord" before she shook her head, Jennifer was still completely and totally lost for words. Jennifer had a feeling that being drunk would not cause someone to behave like this— well of course she knew, she's a profiler. She had a feeling you were high, but she didn't want you to act out and she would need proof for Emily because knowing her she wouldn't believe for a minute you would do drugs.

" umm y/n what's in the bag?" Jennifer asked and your eyebrows quirked, you placed your finger at you ear urging her to repeat even though she was so damn close to you.

" What's in the bag" she repeated as she dragged her words this time. You shrugged.

" I don't know what time the supermarket closes" emily stood up and walked towards to kitchen to grab her phone, you had the agent stressed. Jennifer just took it upon herself to grab the bag of " cheese puffs" before she walked towards emily.

" look I know you may not believe but I have a pretty good feeling that, that girl right there is literally the profound definition of what we call high" emily scoffed.

" Oh come on, she probably had too much wine I mean weren't we just about to drink wine as well?" She restated trying to convince Jennifer, but honestly to this rate she just couldn't, Jennifer was already convinced from her own opinion.

" emily elizabeth prentiss which wine do you know makes someone this drunk?" Jennifer asked, emphasizing on the last two words of her sentence. Emily shrugged before looking back at you, who was now sniffing the air every two seconds like a curious dog. Jennifer rolled her eyes before opening the bag of cheese puffs and taking a sniff.

She gaged before pulling away quickly.

" this smells like straight up weed!" She swiftly turned to let Emily have a sniff, to which Emily pulled away as well. Jennifer closed the bag and turned it around where there was writing in black. " DO NOT OPEN, CONTAINS CASE 101 EVIDENCE".

" you ate the case evidence! Oh my god!" Jennifer looked like she was going to erupt like a volcano and her high pitched tone of voice was making your head hurt and ears ring.

" I was hungry, and I didn't know that they were edibles" you whispered as you squinted your eyes since it was getting harder to see. Jennifer looked at you in disbelief as she turned to Emily for back up. Before Emily could utter a word Jennifer was already furious.

" Emily, don't even! She basically ate the entire bag!" She shouted. She saided pacing the room with her fingers gently massaging her temple to calm her.

" what are we gonna tell hotch, or even worst David" Jennifer covered her face with her both her hands before leaning over the kitchen counter.

" Well I mean, she probably just ate the backup stash, it should be fine, we should really be worrying about is her health" emily muttered scratching her head. Jennifer looked up at emily as her jaw dropped.

" your defending her?!" Emily raised her hands in defense but before she could reply Jennifer took the chance.

" I seriously cannot believe you right now!" Jennifer once again, started pacing the room, this time even more quicker.

" Oh come on jj, what are the odds that people make silly mistakes like these?" Jennifer stopped, and looked at emily with wide eyes.

" Well with the odds as high as her I'd say zero!" She said angrily before picking up her phone.

Emily sighed before looking over at you who was now eating the chips and gnawing your teeth wildly making crumbs fall all over the place. In a way Emily felt bad for you, mostly pity because she knew what you did was down right stupid but Jennifer was being a tadbit too harsh on you in your current position — knowing you couldn't properly comprehend the situation or what was going on.

" ok I'll take her home and we can speak to the team about this tomorrow when y/n is a better state of mind, ok?" Emily said in a reassuring voice. Jennifer sighed in frustration before biting her lip and nodding approvingly.

Emily carefully picked you up off the couch and wrapped her arm around your waist as she insisted to take you home safely. Her body warmth was comforting and her perfume was like a lullaby putting you to sleep this time. You melted in her embrace as she took you outside.

Your vision was blurred and the cold air on your skin — although you had a jacket on, was making you shiver. Seeing this emily hugged you tighter. She opened the door to her wagon and assisted you into the passenger seat and putting on your seat belt for you. You looked at her, she looked like one of those ancient paintings,the ones you can't withdraw your eyes from, the Renaissance ones.

You weren't sure if maybe it was the drugs or the hormones that came after taking the drugs but you felt the need to kiss emily, your eyes flicked down to her lips that were slightly parted as she concentrated on getting the seatbelt to adjust to your liking. Her smooth skin and wrinkled lines that ran across her forehead and eye line area, her little cute eye bags from all the hard work she does.

You couldn't resist the urge, she was a drug, she was your drug. You licked your lips and leaned in. Your lips connected with hers in a slow soft kiss. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. Emily didn't pull away, she was surprised yes, but she didn't pull away. Emily couldn't cover up the feeling she felt for you but she also didn't want to take advantage of your drunken state.

Taking it that she was enjoying it as much as you, you tried to force your tongue into her mouth but that's when she pulled away. Your brows furrowed and for a moment the drugs may have returned your common sense and you realized what you did — what you were trying to do. And soon the embarrassment and cringe settled in.

" sorry, oh God I'm so stupid!" You whispered as you fought back tears, you covered your face with both hands and started sobbing. Emily sprinted around to the drivers seat to comfort you. She gently peeled your hands away from your face, holding your palms in hers she caressed them with her knuckles softly. You sniffed and shook your head in denial before looking out the window.

" hey, sweetheart look at me please" her voice was as soft as an angel and so gentle as if you were something valuable that could be broken, that's something you loved about emily, she was so comforting in all circumstances, no matter what. She placed her hand under your jaw and turned you to look at her. She stared at you with her cute Bambi eyes so filled of love, and she so badly wanted to say " I love you" but she knew you wouldn't be able to comprehend them.

" look y/n, i wanna— kiss you back but I can't. That doesn't mean I don't want to, I just want you to be able to give me your full sober concent." She spoke as slowly and clearly as possible so you won't misinterpret anything.

" and your not stupid, we all make mistakes my love. Once I accidentally— well I got drunk the morning of my Law exams and failed them, and that did set me at a disadvantage for my career but I still made it into this job" she continued to rub your knuckles and wip every tear that fell from your eyes.

" and this joke takes y/n, but it also gives.... it gave—" she took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. " it gave me you." Hearing these words made your heart flutter souly. Your little smile came across your face which emily mirrored.

" now, my sweet girl, my I take you home?" She spoke in a old French accent waving her hand a fancy motion, You both laughed until you were out of air. after the laughter died down She chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh squeezing the tender flesh which made your breath hitch.

The drive home was long but certainly not quiet at all, you and Emily blasted high 2000s music all the way until she arrived at your home. You knew there was gonna be alot to discuss the next day but you should be fine once you have emily by your side.

[ghostgirl101]

Being In A Relationship With Feyd-Rautha Would Be Like This...

A/N: Yes yesss, I'm back from the deepest depths of the dead, finals kicked my ass earlier but now its almost october and I'll burn any exam paper I see from this moment onwards 😀 don't even question why I used this gif, it pretty much summarises the whole headcanon lmao🖤so enjoy it and lmk if you want to be added to the taglist thing at the end. Keep in mind that requests are not open currently, as I'm catching up with ones already in my inbox for Dune and other dark fandoms.

Warnings: Kind of dark themes, mid violence.. it's Feyd Rautha, idk what to tell you 😐

Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎

☠︎︎• You got yourself into some weird territory with this one 😵‍💫

☠︎︎• If you're expecting any semblance of stability and pure romance, then I'd turn and run for the Dunes to find Paul instead, because this Harkonnen doesn't have an ounce of level sanity in him, and the amount of spiking tension you'll have to cope with on a daily basis is enough to give anyone a literal heart attack 💀💀

☠︎︎• My guesses are that you were introduced to Feyd-Rautha as either a pretty young Bene Gesserit girl chosen to weave her way into his life to continue the bloodline, or he liked the look of you when he was off-world in one instance to look over Spice production with his uncle, and took you back as a trophy because he liked the look of you. So lucky you. 🙃

☠︎︎• This boy is an absolute sadist and an unpredictable unhinged mess, so there's a lot to get used to, and even when you do get used to things, it could all flip and spin just as quickly. It would take a hell of a time to truly understand Feyd-Rautha enough to predict him one hundred per cent and longer to have his trust that you won't run off or try betraying him.

☠︎︎• There's definitely a kind of dangerous allure to him that he uses to his advantage, a smug grin on his face when he enters the arenas, most likely to make kills in your name. It wouldn't be a massive surprise if you became some figure in Giedi Prime to sacrifice the dead to, like some kind of goddess of the kill (ik that sounds dramatic as hell, but i see it happening .-.)

☠︎︎• Feyd-Rautha is absolutely not used to the concept of looking out for anyone other than himself, or feeling anything close to respect and love for anyone other than himself. So the relationship he forces between you and him is a shaky and slow-burning bond that works in its own weird ways and quirks, and adapts to him and him only, so there are a lot of adjustments to be made on your end. Because even though Feyd isn't sensitive in the general sense, he's majorly unpredictable, and one wrong word could set him off. Just, tread carefully in the early days.

☠︎︎• If you want affection in any other way than corpses and bruising hickies, it may take a little while, because he has no idea how to pull that kind of gentleness off, and doesn't necessarily want to either. But if it's something that'll get you to submit to his hold over you more, then he'll come round to it, and when there's absolutely no one else in the area, you might get some actual, genuine passion, though there's always a part of it mixed in with some darker conflict in him.

☠︎︎• If you want attention from him, you've got it anyway. Feyd has his own form of attachment, pretty much an obsession, but it's always tangled in with his desire to dominate and possess. It's a suffocating relationship and tipped-scales dynamic, and the only way you can really get him to see your side of things is by wording it in ways that'll make it sound like it was his idea in the first place, and that the reason is because it'll feel better for him.

☠︎︎• Needless to say, if you're a little firmer and have a dark side to you (i'll make a safe bet that you do if you want this guy x_x) this Harkonnen is a thrill seeker to the extreme, someone always looking to feel something new and raw and insatiable, like the sharpest peaks of ecstasy and adrenaline, so will he try out new stuff with you even though it sounds mental and freaky and dangerous? That's a rhetorical question.

☠︎︎• Despite all the bloodshed and his ruthless havoc in the arenas, taking lives and living for the pain of it, believe it or not, Feyd is actually vulnerable in the least suspecting way. He doesn't have an emotional connection with anyone, because he's an unhinged psycho amongst a crowd of pale unhinged psychos who expect nothing less (and.. have you watched the film?? It's confirmed that this dude has mummy issues, so... i'm just saying, look at this hc's front gif 😏)

☠︎︎• If we're talking romance and affection, just think intense. Intense intense intense, because that's the best way to describe it. His hugs are breathtakingly tight and forcefully smothering, and he doesn't kiss, he full-on makes out with you. Public or not doesn't matter, it's just an opportunity to mark you as his in front of an audience, and he'll gladly perform, so suck up your shyness.

☠︎︎• Thinking of pet names, I see Feyd-Rautha calling you either by just your true first name and having everyone else address you just by your general title, or using other typical nicknames he'd use with satisfied smirks and lingering looks. Maybe his dearest darling, because you're higher than the pets he feeds and used before you (apparently they're called harpies??!? idk what the heck lol) I don't see him saying my love or honey unless he's just being a jackass in an argument, because I'm betting my life savings this boy only eats bitter things, and he sure as hell can't define love like you can.

☠︎︎• Feyd comes across as pretty dominant in everything he does, which is right, and even if it's you questioning him, he'll throw a dangerous fit that escalates within a second no one sees, so, again you have to be clever with the way you word things. You physically and mentally cannot be independent with Feyd-Rautha, because he'll break that spirit right out of your soul. Would he physically hurt you? Not badly, no, but just don't push him, because he'll lash out without a second thought in the moment of impulse.

☠︎︎• Again with the independence, another thing that stops you from getting any is how absolutely suffocatingly obsessive he can get, which turns on his possessiveness. You're essentially an extension of himself, something that's peaceful and pure and perfect in so many ways he'll never understand and will always pull your mind apart to try to. So if any other skulking Harkonnen looking to impress you by challenging Feyd himself or devoting a kill in the arena to you, has immediately chosen the slowest, most humiliating death, that you'll probably be tied down to watch -_-

☠︎︎• And if he can tell in even the smallest way that you're drawn to someone aside from him, there's a chance you'll be kept locked up in his chambers for a month or two with no servants, nothing breathing at all permitted to trespass except him, until he's satisfied and you have him wrapped around your finger again. And that means you can get him to do practically anything if it benefits him and draws you closer, like a kill.. to maybe even destroying a whole planet, it's not impossible for him. Once he has his mind set on something, he's a hunter, he's found his target, and he'll go wild until he destroys it.

☠︎︎• He's protective in the way that he will not let you die, or get hurt in any way by any person other than him. If another Harkonnen draws your blood in the tiniest scratch, or hurts your feelings in some way, Feyd will use that as an excuse to wring their necks. You're his to look at and admire and dress up and be close to and make you feel things, so anyone else daring to step up beside you will get knocked down and fed to his darlings. The only time you'll actually see him being doting and surprisingly, cautiously gentle is when he's healing a wound without the audience of any nurses or outside help, an uncharacteristic and uncomfortable silence in the air as he concentrates and gets you back to rights.

☠︎︎• The moments where he'll allow himself to be truly close to you go unspoken, like in the cold hard nights of Geidi Prime, where he pulls you up from your bed and tugs you down the short dark corridor to dump you in his own instead, with nothing else but the need to feel smotheringly close to someone who understands how his mind works. You'll remind him of his mother, and that's all good, so long as you stay by him and with him always, because if you take the opportunity to turn and run, don't let him catch you in the act. There's a 50/50 chance he'll keep you in his rooms for the rest of the relationship, or just straight-up kill you and take in your memories and mind to possess you that way ._.

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Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎 ⊹˚₊‧───────────────────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @milaeth @ennycutie @nckcn @void21 @leighta @williamtt33 @deathsimp @tatumrileyslover @beebumbo @the-dark-dreamer25 @lilepad @skboo @keicdcat @1950schick @reggiesmoon @velosrantipole @yoonessa @anonymjuni @saturnhas82moons @xlxnq @frickyea-guacamole19 @meowmeeps @chalklate

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DUNE MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ MAIN MASTERLIST

[writersblockedx]

Sparks

Pairing - Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader Summary - Jeremiah goes to you for everything, and when you give him a vital piece of love advice, it dawns on him that he is, in fact, in love with you. Warnings - None? Slight mention of underage drinking. Words - 2K

Masterlist

As was common, Jeremiah was at a loss for his several hookups. And, as was even more common, he went to you to debrief and to ask for advice. While he had hookups and situation-ships way more than you did (or anyone in Cousins for that matter), he struggled with how to manage them. At least he did until he started asking you for advice.

He threw himself onto your bed, forcing you to shut the book you had been deep inside. There, staring up at the ceiling, he let out a huff. "What, or should I say who, is it this time?" You raised your brow at him, watching as Jere's wide pupils stared up to the ceiling as if he were replaying some memory over and over.

"Luke." He let the name out in a sigh. "And, And!" He suddenly added as if he had almost forgotten in his daydreaming gaze, "Abi."

He finally sat up, staring at you with them puppy eyes you could never resist. "Two?" You questioned.

"Yes." He said, barely embarrassed by such fact; at this point, it was to be expected. "Reframe from any criticism please."

"I'm not gonna criticise you, Jere." You told him, a sweet smile gracing your lips. "If anything, I don't see what the problem is here."

He took a second before shrugging, "I just- I feel wrong, you know? Guilty." He explained. "Like I'm going behind their backs."

"Okay then, well you either need to tell them both the truth or pick one."

Jeremiah thought about the options for a moment and ran both scenarios through his head until making his decision. "I have to pick one." He said before looking at you, uncertain, "Right?"

"If that's what you want." You comforted him.

At that, he let himself fall once more. This time, right into your lap as he made a dramatic sigh as if this decision was a life-changing one. "What if I don't know what I want?" He questioned, gazing up at you, his sea-blue eyes catching you into his trap.

You let a sniffle of a laugh as you looked down at him, "Oh, trust me Jere, you've no idea what you want. But, that's okay too, sometimes you have to experiment with different people until you know what you want." You went on.

That seemed to spark another question for him, one of which wouldn't leave his head for the next few weeks: "How do I know? Like, how do I know that this is someone who I want a relationship with? A proper relationship, not just a hookup."

For that, you needed to think. As much as you gave Jereimah advice after advice, that was a question he had never asked. "I suppose it has to be someone you feel that spark with. But not just a sexual spark." As you were certain Jere sometimes mistook it for. "A spark that reaches to a deeper, emotional level. Where you feel safe but excited at the same time. A balance, I guess." That was what you assumed anyway. You hadn't had many successful relationships yourself.

But your words had seemed to prompt something for Jere. His eyes washed away, his mind sucking him into his thoughts. Until, after a long moment, he sat back up and with furrowed brows, asked, "How do you know all this? It's not as if you're happily married."

"No need to remind me." You giggled, slapping the side of his forearm.

Of which he chuckled at and defended himself, "I'm serious! You talk all this wise shit and can't even get yourself a date."

You could have scoffed, "I can get myself a date, thank you."

"Really? When was the last time you went on one?"

Then you did scoff, grasping the pillow from behind you and chucking it at Jeremiah's head, only erupting more laughter from the both of you. "You are so rude!"

Only once your mini pillow fight died down and Jeremiah returned home, did that question take over his whole mind. He strolled into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of milk as he thought over it: how did he know? The only time he felt a spark that wasn't sexual- well, he couldn't quite remember. Everything you had described, the safety but excitement, the emotional connection (and the sexual), well the only person he could ever even suggest he had felt that for was you.

"What's up with you?" His brother's voice broke him from the glare he had been giving the countertop.

His eyes widened, "Huh?"

Conrad and Belly, who had been trailing behind him, both giggled. "You're just a bit...out of it, you know?"

"Thinking."

"That's a first." Conrad laughed.

Jeremiah snapped, "Hey!"

"Go on then," Belly pushed, "What is it you're thinking about?"

The boy sighed, replaying your words once more. "A spark."

"Why's a hookup causing you an existential crisis?" Questioned Conrad, watching his brother in such a focused state that it was becoming a concern.

"It's not a hookup." Jere admitted. "It's Y/n."

Suddenly, that name peaked Belly's interest. She leaned closing, placing her elbows on the kitchen island as she watched the boy carefully, "What about her?" She prompted.

"I went to her for advice, as I always do, and now I can't get it out of my head. She was explaining how for love, you need a spark, an emotional connection, safety..." He stopped there, ever so stunned by his recent realisation.

"And?" Belly pushed on, one brow raised.

Jeremiah sucked in a breath, not making eye contact with either of them as he said, "She basically just described everything I feel for her."

He looked at his brother and his best friend. It was silent. At least for a moment as he took in their unreadable expressions; were they stunned? Embarrassed? Futile? Then, breaking the silence came Conrad's laugh. "You have a crush on Y/n, great." He shook his head. "It took you long enough."

Jere's brows instantly furrowed as he straightened his back, "What? How did you-" He couldn't get his words out.

Conrad looked to Belly, "Come on, back me up. It was obvious."

Jeremiah looked to his friend and Belly could only shrug. "It sort of was." She agreed. "But, now you know, you can ask her out!" Excitement was painted on her words. Belly had been waiting for this for almost longer than yourself.

"I can't do that. She's- She's Y/n. She's my best friend. It'd be weird." The idea was so foreign that it was unbelievable.

"She's your best friend who you're in love with!" Belly argued. "Think about it, please."

With that, she and Conrad left Jeremiah to his thoughts. Once more, you never left his mind. He had been trapped.

For weeks, it was all he could think about. He'd gaze across the other side of the pool at you. Shades covering your eyes as you bathed in the sunlight. There he was daydreaming of everything you would do as a couple. Granted, it was pretty much the same as how things were now, only littered with kisses and hugs and greater smiles than either of you had ever made before.

It came to the point where he was just bursting to tell you. But he waited. He had to wait until the right moment. He couldn't do it by the pool, with Steven and Belly watching. He would wait for the perfect moment. And when the group of you arrived at a local party, he knew maybe tonight would be the night.

A few drinks down, he caught you by yourself. You had wandered to the backyard, sitting on the stairs that led to the porch. He lingered by the patio door, watching you as you sat alone for a moment. Your curious expression was emphasised by the fairy lights which tangled over the wooden fencing, flashing pinks and purples across your cheeks.

You didn't even know Jeremiah was there until he came and sat next to you, your shoulders nudged up against the others. "Enjoying the party?" A smooth smile hung from his lips as he grasped the red solo cup in his hand.

You nodded and glanced over at him, "Yeah, yeah, just needed a break." You excused.

Jere smiled, looking back through the patio doors and the booming party he could still overhear. "That's understandable." He gazed back at you and fell, once more, into your eyes.

"What about you?" You nudged his shoulder playfully. "You're never one to miss a moment from a party. Shouldn't you be looking for Luke? Or, or Abi!" You spat out their names as they flooded back into your memory. You had lost count of all the people Jere had hooked up with.

His smile faulted at the mention of their names, "Erm, no, no. I actually ended things with both of them." He admitted.

"Oh, why?" You raised a brow. "Ended up telling them the truth?"

"No, no." He answered before he looked to the ground, licked his lips and questioned if this was the moment. Something in his mind said fuck it, and he did. "But it was actually because of something you said." Jeremiah couldn't tear his eyes away from you as that curiosity built on your expression once again. "When you were explaining it to me, everything that love made you feel, all the sparks and the connections. That you should feel safe with them but it should be exciting all the same. Well," He took a breath and ran with it. "You're the only person that makes me feel that way."

The air soon became thick with Jeremiah's words as they floated around your mind. This was Jere, your friend, your best friend. The one who had talked non-stop about her and him all while you were nothing but a bystander. Yet, here you were, sitting away from the party the boy was usually the centre of as he professed his love. And you could never deny your feelings in that it wasn't reciprocated.

This time, it was your turn to look to the ground, lick your lips and say: Fuck it. "Jere, I can't deny that you aren't utterly brilliant. I mean, you're incredibly beautiful, and you know it. You're charming and comedic, you bring a room to life. And I love being at your side for all of that, I want to be there in the future too." You took a breath, wondering if your next words were about to ruin that smile that was glued to his lips. "But, it's because I want that, that I want to be your friend. Just your friend." Like that, the smile dissipated. "I can't be some other hookup that you start complaining about because they get too attached, or too clingy. I won't let that be me."

He jumped to take your hands in his. What used to be a simple gesture between the two of you, had suddenly become complicated and you questioned if you should let go. "That's not what you are to me. I would have already tried that on you if that was what I wanted, trust me." He admitted. "This isn't me asking you to kiss me, or to have sex with me or whatever I do nowadays. I'm sat here asking you to be my girlfriend."

The word had been said. It was in the air and it was up to you what you did with it.

And so, you tightened your grip on his fingers and said, "I want you Jere and I trust that you want me to." From there, you leaned in before he could respond, securing a yes with a kiss.

[leggerefiore]

prompt: gifting a present your s\o secretly really wanted? 🥺

cw: fluff, gift giving

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Cyrus, Lear

read this as to the characters also

▲Ingo▼

● The Subway Boss was not a difficult person to gift shop for – Ingo would take any gift with genuine appreciation, simply due to his sentimental nature. You could hand him something he hated, but, as long as you clearly seemed like you were trying to make him happy, he would clap his hands and give you one of his characteristic “bravo's.” But, it was hard to see things that he might truly love. Yes, anything train adjacent would assuredly suffice and overjoy him, yet it was always a concern of whether or not he already had such a thing in his personal collection. Other things held strong appeal to him, too, such as anything related to his pokemon. Still, you had the full intention to obtain something that the twin truly wanted. It was through prodding of his brother that you managed to obtain your answer – Something that he had not mentioned to you directly.

● You had caught Ingo as he rested on the couch after getting in from work. He had his tie half down with the top of his shirt unbuttoned. Behind you was the gift that you had worked so hard to make for him. He tilted his head as you approached him, giving one of his smiles where his lips barely pulled up. His hand came up to pull you down to his sitting level for a kiss, but you caught him off-guard by pulling out the gift. The Litwick wrapping paper made him blink a few times as he took it from you. Then, he tore it away to reveal what was hidden underneath. A scrapbook of various photos that you had taken together with him since being in your relationship was what you had decided on. He carefully flipped through it, eyes becoming softer with each flip of the page. A true smile broke his lips as he sat it in his lap and looked up at you. “… Thank you, dearest,” he spoke in a low-tone, “This is truly something wonderful. I will treasure it.” You felt your heart swell with feeling that you had finally managed to get something that he truly desired.

▽Emmet△

○ The Subway Boss in white was a particularly easy person to gift shop for. He would plainly tell you what he liked and disliked if asked and would do the same for gifts when given. This may have earned him quite a few glares from his older twin, but he simply argued that the truth of the matter was the most important. Yet, his interests were plain for anyone to see and understand. He loved his job and, therefore, trains, and he loved his pokemon. Battling was his favourite, too. It was easy, but you wanted to get him something that would both surprise and overjoy him. That was not easy. He would truly be happy with anything of the previous diaspora, but you wanted to do something above and beyond for him. It was difficult, but you considered him closely and found yourself asking both his brother and friends a bit for answers.

○ When you found it, you asked him to come home after his shift with a little delay. He was true to his answer and showed up as soon as he could, smiling and waving when he got in the door. You found yourself in a tight hug as he questioned why you wanted him home as soon as he could. You slipped off his uniform cap and picked up your gift from the kitchen counter. He held it in his hands for a moment, just smiling at the train print paper you had wrapped it up in. Then, he pulled it away carefully to reveal what you had got him inside. He gasped at what you had custom ordered. A conductor's cap with a Joltik print on it. Putting it on his head, he struck one of his many poses and grinned brightly. “This is verrry good,” he nodded, “I love it! Thank you, darling!” Emmet soon caught you in another suffocating hug as you felt relief that it had worked.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Cyrus quite often proved someone difficult to shop for. His usual response of indifference made getting gifts next to impossible. Whether he enjoyed them or not was also up in the air. While this would likely discourage most and make them wish to pull away from it, you found yourself rather invigorated by it and wishing to find something that would truly break that stoic streak of his. His interests were mostly obvious – He loved machines more than anything else, yet that was not something you could easily provide. Not to mention, he already got his fill with his job and hobby. No, you had to attack from another angle. One, you knew no one else would be so easily aware of.

☄️ Catching him before his disappeared in his home office, you dragged him back into the living room and made him stand while you pulled out his gift from where you had hidden it. He watched you with mild curiosity. Pulling out a gift wrapped in a galaxy print paper, you held it out to him. Carefully, he took it from you and began to unwrap the gift. Cyrus was eerily quiet, as observed it. You felt your heart drop. The Rotom figurine perhaps was really not something to his tastes in the end, after all. But, before you could apologise for wasting his time, he met your gaze. “… This is truly quite nice,” his voice was low, “I appreciate you thinking of me.” While you still felt insecure in your choice at that time, you later knew he truly enjoyed it when you saw it sitting on his desk.

👑Lear💎

🪙 How does one get a gift for a man who could buy anything that he possibly ever wanted on a whim? The prince was truly something else to shop for. You were personally acquainted with his large collection and knew that it would be impossible to ever get him something that would impress him in the slightest. While you doubted he would ever say anything intentionally cruel to your face (unintentionally notwithstanding), it still hurt when you attempted to think of things to get for him. Asking his retainers and closest friends did not get you any closer to the goal you had in mind. It hurt, but you try not to feel so discouraged. A remark from him about the most precious things not having a price tag echoed in your mind. There simply had to be something out there that you could get him.

🪙 You held the gift box in your hand as you finally had a chance to be alone with him. He had just finished all his duties for the day and had crashed onto one of the couches in his quarters. His sunglasses laid on a nearby end table while his coat was shed and folded nearby. You felt yourself tense up a bit when he stared at you from across the room. There was a silent question in his gaze about what you were holding. Coming up to him, you watched as he sat up and took the offering from you. The wrapping paper's print was covered in Gimmighoul coins. He tore it away without any hesitation and scrutinised the gift inside. You felt defeated. He probably would not enjoy it. Why would he care for something like a framed photo of you both at a gala event he held? Before you could deflate, he sat the picture down on the end table. “… I had been meaning to have the prints processed myself,” his voice was low, likely strained from speaking all day, “Thank you. I'm truly glad to have this finally.” You could tell with his glance back that he truly adored it.

[moody-alcoholic]

Truth

I am not ignorant to the fact I’m writing a gay sex scene and everyone is hanging out in Syria. Resources below.

Guardians of Equality Movement

Syria LGBTQI+ Resources

Equaldex LGBT rights in Syria

I cant stop writing for this series. Every time I say I'll take a break I pump out another outline...

MDNI +18 content

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: MDNI +18 content Mentions of torture, torture, smut, blowjob (male receiving & giving), language. First proper Johnny x Simon scene, IDK it just felt right...

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

Johnny was grabbing something to eat in the canteen when he watched Ghost walked over to him. He knew something was wrong, he had that cold look in his eyes. The one he gets when he has to focus on the job and nothing else matters, not even him. Johnny swallowed hard standing up to meet Ghost. 

“Come.” It’s all he says but it makes the hairs stand up on the back of Johnny’s neck. Johnny follows they walk into an observation room. Johnny gasps when he sees you handcuffed the table head hanging down.

“What happened?” Johnny asked looking round the room his eyes falling on Jack who’s stood there arms crossed. 

“We believe she’s responsible for the murder of the doctor.” Jack says. Johnny laughs, looking around at everyone else being serious.

“Christ, what’s the evidence?” Johnny asked.

“Her ID was used to withdraw large amounts of insulin which is believed to be the cause of death.” Johnny looked at Jack shocked then at Price. 

“Has she said anything?” Johnny asked feeling sick. There is no way you did that, this has to be a set up, something… Johnny just knew it in his gut, you were innocent.

“No, she’s not talking.” Price said, Johnny could hear something in his voice. Sadness? Annoyance?

“I heard you are very good at your job lieutenant,” Jack says taking a step closer to Ghost. 

“‘Pends on what you heard.” Ghost replies remaining still, looking through the one way glass you’ve not moved, not wanting them to see your pained expression.

“I heard you can get people to talk, and we really need her to talk.” Jack says. 

“We can try other ways before sending Ghost in.” Price says. Jack scoffs.

“If she’s been trained by the enemy she won’t break.” He says walking to the door. 

“You have 24 hours to get her to talk or you’re out of here.” Everyone looked at Price. He went to sit down.

“You heard him, make her talk.” Price says.

“We don’t torture innocent people.” Ghost’s voice is level, he still hasn’t moved. 

“We’re not torturing anyone just question her you’ve got to buy me some time, look like you’re doing your jobs so I can figure out a solution.” Price sighs.    

“It’s wrong.” Johnny says. Price sighs again getting up. 

“LT, Gaz go to security I want anything you can find, from the moment she wakes up in the morning to the second she’s asleep. She takes a piss I want to know about it, where her card was swiped who has seen her anything, and quickly before Jack can replace staff.” Price says as he walks over to Johnny. 

“Come on let’s go have a chat with her, maybe she’ll tell us something useful” Price says his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny knows Price is trying to calm him but there is nothing on the face of the world right not that can slow his mind. He looks back through the window, guilt rises up as Ghost and Gaz leave the room. It’s times like this Johnny envies Simon being able to hide his face. Price squeezes his shoulder he looks in Price’s eyes, they look sad understanding. It doesn't make Johnny feel any better.

—————————— 

You can’t look at Simon’s eyes when he’s the room, the caramel eyes you used to lose yourself in, they’re just dark now, dark and uncaring. Johnny’s in sometimes, he won’t even look at you let alone in your eyes any more, the eyes you used to look in for comfort, love, hope. You don’t know what's worse. Price is the one who questions you, always the same questions. 

How did you do it? 

Why did you do it? 

Who do you work for? 

How long have you known about 141? 

Did you get close to them on purpose? 

Did you use them to get information on 141? 

Why?

He never says their names, Johnny, Simon. It’s always just ‘them’ he doesn’t have to say their names, you know who he means. Maybe you did betray them? Maybe this was all your fault? 

By the second day you can’t remember the doctors name, just the fact he’s leaving a kid and a wife behind. You’re moved into a windowless cell, you’re woken up at random times, you’re starting to lose track of time. It’s only after what you think is the third day it becomes violent. Jack is the only one who’s violent, he’s around a lot more, there are new questions. 

Why this base? 

Why now? 

Do you know anything about the arms sales to Al-qatala? 

Have you ever been to Urzikstan? 

Why kill an innocent doctor? 

Why insulin? 

Why are you betraying 141? 

Why?

Jack is the only one who will look you in the eye, he likes to look you in the eyes but he’s not kind. You become numb to the attacks, the repetitiveness of the torture, you hate that word, torture, it makes you feel guilty. You’re not guilty. Or maybe you are. 

“I wouldn’t use insulin.” You say after a particularly rough session. 

“What’s that?” jack asks, his face up in yours but you can still only just make out his features, nose, lips, chin, in your blurry haze he just looks angry. 

“If I was going to kill him I wouldn’t use insulin, too easy to be traced.” He doesn't like that answer, he doesn’t like anything you say if it’s true or not. 

You enjoy Gaz’s visit’s, he’s the member of 141 you had not met yet, he brings you food, soup or rice mostly. He doesn't question you, doesn't talk to you. Just tries to feed you food, or at least swallow gulps of water that burn your throat. He doesn’t need to do this for you, you don’t know him, he makes you feel strangely guilty. You used to spit out the food not accepting anything from him, when he said they would start tube feeding you, you relented accepting the spoonful's of thick soup or rice and beans. He’s got kind eyes. 

You don’t see Simon or Johnny anymore, maybe they’ve given up on you, maybe they don’t care. Jack tells you they don’t care. Price is there sometimes you think, it’s getting harder to tell, the passage of time becoming almost impossible to follow, you think it’s been 3 days, maybe 4, maybe 5. Your stomach growls, you haven’t seen the sunlight in days. Your body hurts from being upright all the time. 

“You should give her a break.” It’s Simon’s voice that pulls you out of your half conscious state. You see him stood in the door way, all black, his face covered. It’s not the voice you know, not the kind voice you’re used to it’s something different. It makes you shiver, makes the hairs stand up on your body. You try not to cry, only letting tears fall down your face after Gaz has been, then you know you’ll be left alone for a few hours. You don’t want to let them break you but it’s becoming harder to think.    

Someone bursts bursts through the door to the room pinning Jack to the wall. The noise makes you jump and you try to lift your head up but it’s too hard, your neck hurts. You blink hearing shouting, then you feel hands on your face, it feels like Johnny’s hands they’re warm he’s forcing you to look at his face. Everything is blurry you try to squint. You feel movement behind you. 

“I’m so sorry it took us so long love.” It’s Johnny’s voice you’re sure, your head is spinning though, you can’t tell. Your eyes move past Johnny, you think you see Simon, you think that’s him, you feel your head slump in Johnny’s hand as your restraints are cut lose. You must of blacked out for a second because the next thing you know is being on the floor. Johnny scoops you up in his arms and you lean up against his chest. 

“it's over now, we've got you.” Johnny whispers in your ears. You’re blinded by lights as Johnny carries you out to the room to the medbay. You recognise the smell, that’s a good thing you’re not totally broken, you can smell the clean sheets, the smell of antiseptic. There are hands all over you now, people touching you, so many lights. You reach for Johnny, where did he go? You start to panic trying to pull yourself up. Is it a trick? Are they doing this to finally try and break you? 

“Johnny!” You call searching for his hands. You feel a sharp pain travel down your arm. You feel your breath catch in your throat, your body being pressed down. Maybe this is the end you’re in too much pain and too tired to tell. You feel your body slump down as ringing grows louder in your ears, it doesn’t take long before everything goes black. 

——————————   

Johnny wakes to Simon’s hands on his shoulders. He looks over at your body still unconscious, still with tubes shoved down your throat. Simon pulls a chair up next to him, Simon’s started caring less and less who sees them together, especially at night. 

“The doc’s say the swelling in her head’s gone down.” Johnny says leaning forward in his chair.

“When was the last time you slept?” Simon asks him. 

“Got a nice kip before you woke me.” Johnny replies. Simon sighs, his hand running up the back of Johnny’s neck. 

“You really should get some sleep, some proper sleep.” Simon says. Johnny scoffs. 

“4 days,” he says, looking back up at you. 

“4 day’s, we let her suffer.” Johnny says quieter. Simon sighs his forehead resting on Johnny. Simon know’s how guilty Johnny feels, he feels the same too, he’s just better at hiding it. 

“Come.” Simon says getting up extending his hand out for Johnny. Johnny looks up at him blinking. 

“Give me five minutes.” Simon pleads. Johnny sighs standing up and following him. He lets Simon guide him all the way to the dorms into Simon’s room. Johnny has never left the bedside since you had been moved to Damascus. Simon had tried to get some alone time with him but he can tell Johnny’s guilt weighs heavy on his shoulders, he want’s to be there when you wake.

Simon pulls Johnny into his room, locking the door. Johnny tries to protest but Simon is too quick, his hands guiding Johnny’s hips pushing him against the wall. Simon’s hand slips under the front of his mask pulling it off over his head, he looks up at Johnny his thumb stroking his cheek. Simon looks almost sad, he can see the pain in Johnny’s eyes, the anger, he feels it too.

Simon presses his lips onto Johnny, forcing his tongue in his mouth as his hands reach under his shirt. Johnny seems to relax for a second enjoying the taste of Simon on his lips, playing with his tongue. Simon pulls away moving to Johnny’s neck planting little kisses all the way down to his collar bones. His head tips back hitting the wall as Simon pulls Johnny’s shirt over his head. 

“Si, we shouldn’t leave her.” Johnny says as Simon is burying his head into Johnny's neck. 

“She’ll be fine.” Simon says his voice low, almost a groan, as he continues to run his tongue down Johnny’s neck, Johnny’s hands moving up Simon’s back eventually running his fingers through his hair. Johnny doesn’t fight Simon, enjoying the feel of his husbands hands on his body as Simon’s hands slip under Johnny’s waistband pulling his trousers and boxers down. Simon is moving slow, slow and gentle working his hands down Johnny’s stomach to his abdomen, Johnny is almost desperate gripping Simon’s hair as he moves his tongue round Johnny’s body. 

“Si..” Johnny moans as Simon’s hands find their way to Johnny’s semi-hard cock. Simon want’s to almost beg Johnny to relax, instead running his hand up and down his shaft. Johnny presses his forehead on Simon’s chest moaning as he pushes his hands slipping under Simon’s shirt. Johnny trembles as Simon uses both his hands to pleasure him, his breathing becoming faster. Simon keeps Johnny’s body pressed up against the wall as Johnny starts thrusting his hips, fucking Simon’s hands. Johnny had felt this many times before, Simon giving him pleasure, but never quite like this, his emotions high, endorphins pumping through his body, Johnny starts to tense again Simon pulls away, a whimper leaving Johnny’s lips. 

“On the bed.” Simon says guiding him over as Johnny blindly follows his instructions laying flat. Simon takes his boots and the rest of his pants off flinging them to the side. Johnny lays his head back on the pillows as Simon licks the precum off Johnny’s tip making him moan his hands desperately trying to grab Simon’s hair. Simon smiles then thrusts his mouth round his cock taking him all the way to the hilt.

The pleasure is almost overwhelming, Simon can feel it, Johnny’s body shaking a mix of pleasure and stress. Simon doesn't stop his hands running up Johnny’s chest as he positions himself in a more comfortably to suck him off. Johnny moans and gasps as Simon’s tongue presses into the underside of Johnny’s shaft, Simon can feel him twitching in his mouth enjoying each one as he get’s closer to the edge.

Simon can read Johnny’s body like a book, Johnny thinks he’s sly hiding his movements, his cheeky side glances, the heavy petting Johnny does when he’s in the mood, the way his fingers move around Simon’s body forcing his attention. He thinks he’s good at hiding it but Simon knows him, Simon loves him and right now Simon knows he needs to make Johnny relax.

Johnny’s hips are thrusting again Simon’s hands grip his waist trying to keep it in place. Johnny moans Simon’s name as he cums. Simon likes that, hearing Johnny call his name in the heat of the moment, Simon feels his own cock twitching in his pants as he rides Johnny through the orgasm making sure that Johnny is well and truly satisfied before pulling his mouth away. Simon enjoys the taste of Johnny’s cum in his mouth, the feel of his hot seed hitting the back of his throat. Johnny is still panting when Simon moves, sliding up next to him pulling his head on his chest.

Johnny moves to rest on his chest his still heartbeat still racing, Simon takes exaggerated breaths and Johnny subconsciously follows him. Simon reaches down pulling the duvet over Johnny, kissing his face running his fingers through his hair. 

“You need to rest,” Simon says wrapping his arms round Johnny stroking his back. Johnny’s breathing starts to steady as Simon lowers his voice.

“You do this on purpose,” Johnny says sleepily. Simon smiles, he does do it on purpose. Johnny needs to rest, he’s no good to anyone if he can’t think straight.  

“I’ll wake you if anything happens, I promise.” Simon says kissing his forehead.   

——————————   

The knock at the door pulls Johnny out his sleep, he jolts awake almost fighting over Simon to get out of bed. 

“Easy.” Simon says as he moves swinging his legs out so Johnny can get up.

“You said you’d wake me if anything happened.” Johnny sounds frustrated puling his trousers and shirt on. 

“This is the first thing that’s happened.” Johnny throws Simon’s mask at him opening the door before he gets chance to put it on. It’s only Price.

“She’s awake, she’s asking for you.” Price says. Johnny shoves his feet into his boots as Simon gets up off the bed moving over to the door. Johnny looks back at Simon smiling and rushes out the room pushing past Price. Simon follows Price stopping him in the doorway. 

“What do you want to tell her about Jack?” Price asks. Simon sighs. 

“Laswell found anything?” Simon asks walking with Price, he shakes his head. 

“Still looking for a connection, he’ll be punished for the way he questioned her, demoted at the very least, depends on what they feel like. Theres no evidence he spoofed her card we’re lucky there were so many witnesses. We’re lucky we could clear her name so quick.” Price says. It still took 4 days. 

“Think he can justify his actions?” Simon asks. 

“Let’s see, we’ve got other things to focus on now.” Price walks into her room Simon hangs back for a second. A wave of guilt washing over him, he just wanted to hold her jump into bed with her, apologise. 4 days we let her suffer, Johnny’s words replaying in his head. Never again, he promises himself. 

Next part

[hauntingofhouses]

Thinking about the crazy love triangle situation in Blue Eye Samurai and debating heavily with myself on how I'd like to see it conclude. And yeah this discussion can be thought of purely as shipping, headcanons, and fandom fun. But when analysing the show and engaging with it in a more in-depth, almost-literary level, it's impossible to dismiss who Mizu's potential love interests are and how different endgame romances would affect her character arc and the overall story and themes.

So in this post I'd like to look at the love triangle a bit more closely, and speculate on where the story will take this.

DISCLAIMER: It is my personal interpretation of the text that Mizu is non-binary—I use this as an umbrella term denoting any gender that does not adhere to the binary restrictions, norms, and expectations of what it means to be either a man or woman in a particular society; it's not just an androgynous "third gender" that exclusively uses they/them pronouns. Thus, while I personally believe Mizu is not strictly a cis woman, she does still identify with womanhood, despite definitely feeling a level of detachment from it due to living as a man for so long. With that being said, I will be using she/her pronouns for Mizu in this post, but please note that this is purely personal preference. Everyone is free to interpret the text the way they like. That's the fun of fiction. Now, without further ado, let's proceed.

Okay so, thinking about the pairings on a purely surface level, and even before i got into the show, I was pinning my hopes on some lesbianism going on between Mizu and Akemi, and the show does hint at this; in Ep1, during their first encounter in Kyoto, there is the famous slow-mo shot of their eyes meeting, Mizu's lips slightly parted as she is unable to tear her gaze away from Akemi, while sweet string music plays in the background. This is clear romantic framing, and a marker of attraction. If Mizu was a cishet man, there would be no question that this is a potential love interest.

But then, in the same episode, we meet Taigen, who is introduced to us firstly from hearing Akemi's father describe him as "a fierce and undefeated young samurai", the "best swordsman in the best school" and "a fisherman's son from Kohama [...] whose rise reminds [him] of [his] own."

In the next scene, we meet him in person as Akemi's fiance, and he seems sweet enough. He even gives her sweets! In exchange, Akemi gives him gold, and he feels a bit ashamed that he doesn't have anything better to offer her. But Akemi accepts him and his gift wholeheartedly and flirts with him a little, which makes him smile kinda shyly.

When Akemi confirms their engagement, Taigen is in disbelief because he has no status or noble background, but Akemi reassures him.

So from these first few scenes, we're introduced to Taigen as an honourable and strong samurai, but also as a man who is sweet and gentle with the woman he is about to marry, as well as aware of his own inferiority when compared to Akemi's high station.

Our view of him then changes as his true self is revealed: he is an arrogant and smug bastard among his peers, but more importantly, he is the terrible bully from Mizu's childhood.

And it is this side of Taigen--pompous jerk and unrepentant xenophobic bully--that we continue to see as the show goes on, and it's safe to say that this is his real self, sans any pretense of humility and modesty. Around anyone who isn't an outright superior in terms of class and power (ie. Akemi's father, the shogun), Taigen never hesitates to assert his own authority and "greatness."

But as the show goes on, he gets caught by Heiji Shindo's men, and then tortured. And that's when we see, okay, turns out he's not that bad. He's honourable; "honour" is not just meaningless and superficial pedantry for him, but an internalised, guiding principle.

He was a cruel asshat throughout Mizu's childhood, but in a prejudiced and xenophobic society, he was just playing by the rules. As a child, he knew he was at the bottom of society, but when met with someone even lower ranked than him (Mizu), he can project all those prejudices and insecurities onto someone else. This way of thinking--"if you can't beat 'em, join em"--is what allowed him to climb up the ranks despite being some dirt poor kid from an abusive household*.

*Well, that combined with his cismale privilege of course, because this would not be an option for a woman in similar circumstances.

Thus, his upholding of honour also exemplifies how Taigen embodies the ideals and rules of his society. His insistence on duelling Mizu is another more blatant example of this. He doesn't want revenge like Mizu does. He wants to be accepted by society, within the bounds that society has placed, and that means that his only two options following his defeat at the Shindo dojo were to either chase Mizu down and get his damn duel, or kill himself for his humiliating defeat.

Now! Moving on from Taigen, let's go back to the other end of this little love triangle: Akemi.

Mizu and Akemi only properly meet in Ep4. During their first meeting, when Akemi tries to poison Mizu in Madame Kaji's brothel, she compliments Mizu's eyes, calling them "beautiful."

This seems to genuinely take mizu off-guard for a second before she coolly plays along. We know that Mizu recognises Akemi from the get-go, and thus sees through Akemi's ploy from a mile away. It's also safe to assume she'd expected false flattery, because Mizu understands full well that this tactic is how women get what they want: by using their 'feminine wiles' and playing up their naivety and innocence. But even so, it's interesting that Mizu actually seems surprised by Akemi's compliment.

Then, after Mizu subtly taunts Akemi by lying about Taigen's death, she and Akemi have a bit of a scuffle, and then we get to Mizu saying this:

"Women in our world don't have a single good option. Except you, like some magical forest creature. You could have anything you want, but then you beg to eat trash."

(no screenshot because it's quite a long line but you get it)

Here we see Mizu's opinions on the marginalisation of (mostly poor and under-privileged) women stated outright, and underlying her words is also resentment. Because even though she and Akemi have shared experiences of female oppression, Mizu, unlike Akemi, was also poor, from a rural village, and is a racial minority. Mizu is triply oppressed, while Akemi only faces one primary form of oppression, and to someone as embittered by the world as Mizu is, to see Akemi "beg to eat trash" is a slap in the face, practically tone-deaf to the other injustices around her--injustices which Akemi has not shown much, or any, acknowledgement for at this point.

Then, after this scene, Mizu kills Kinuyo, and this unsettles her to a degree we've never seen from her before. She is visibly distraught, and the entire sequence hammers the theme of this episode (and arguably, a large portion of the show) into our heads: women in this world suffer. And even though Mizu is well aware of this fact, to commit this act is so visceral that is shakes her to her core, and it's what ultimately leads to the ambush of the Thousand Fangs.

But before the ambush, Mizu and Akemi talk a little again, and during this time Akemi taunts Mizu some more.

Right now, Mizu is exhausted to the point where (I believe) she even downs some sake, despite not usually drinking. Thus, worn down, she cuts Akemi's ropes and tells her, "Just go." Akemi recovers from her initial fear of Mizu's blade and taunts her some more, accurately seeing through Mizu's facade of coldness, recognising the raw anger there, and says this:

"I thought you had to be something special. Your face isn't even so scary. You're just... angry."

At this, Mizu is amused and compares Akemi to Taigen ("I see why he likes you. You're just like Taigen when we were children. A fucking brat.")

The reveal that Mizu and Taigen knew each other in childhood surprises Akemi, but before either of them can say more, everything goes to shit.

That's when we get to Ep5. This episode focuses primarily on Mizu, the central piece of this love triangle, and does the most out of all the episodes to shed some light on her character and goals, fleshing her out to be more than just the vengeful, highly proficient samurai we've seen thus far (symbolised by The Ronin), but also a person who is capable of love, domesticity and gentleness (symbolised by The Bride). But in the end, Mizu rejects both these ideals, instead becoming an Onryo, who is neither guided by pride/honour, nor love.

By 'reincarnating' into an Onryo, Mizu is able to win the day and save the women in the brothel. However, as she has now fully embraced her status as an Onryo, and is exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally, she lets the Tokunobu clansmen take Akemi away while Akemi's screams echo in her ear.

Mizu says this choice is for Akemi's own good, that Akemi's better off; because Mizu is jaded and weary, and cannot afford the luxury of idealism, and thus must always be strictly practical and realistic. So of course that's why, in her view, yes, Akemi should not be wasting her time in a brothel where women are exploited and abused, nor should Akemi be so naive to think that her marriage with Taigen is even still possible. However, regardless of Mizu's views, it is not for her to decide, because though Akemi is privileged in some sense, she is still trapped and voiceless, and deserves the right to choose her own destiny.

But as it happens, in the end, though Akemi did not choose who she gets to marry, she DOES get to choose her next move when Edo burns down.

"I want to be great."

This one line is the key to her entire arc, which is only just beginning. We see she quickly has acquired the affection and good graces of the shogun's son after their wedding night and consummation, and with Madame Kaji and the girls now serving her, Akemi will only grow to become a prominent political player.

NOW, only after analysing the characters as they are within this season, only can we speculate how their arcs will continue as the show progresses.

First and foremost, I will reassert the popular opinion that Mizu and Akemi are foils. The climax (pun intended) of Ep7 illustrates this as it parallels the turning points in both Mizu's and Akemi's arcs:

Mizu melts the steel of all her loves and shames, the people she's collected: the broken blade wielded by both Chiaki and Taigen, Akemi's knife, Ringo's bell, Master Eiji's tongs - this symbolises her beginning to accept herself, and in doing so, also accepting the help of others;

Akemi consummates her marriage with Takayoshi Itoh, gains his affection, and cements her position as a woman in the shogun's palace - this symbolises her taking charge of her situation, no longer playing the damsel, but using her position to her advantage, empowering both herself and the underprivileged women around her.

These are thus two directly contrasting, diverging journeys:

Mizu's arc moves inward (yin). It is an internal path of self-love and self-discovery, focused on finding peace and tranquility inside herself, and this involves allowing herself to let others into her life, opening herself up to friendship and empathy once more.

Akemi's arc moves outward (yang), it is an external path of growth, transforming from a naive, caged princess to a powerful woman and a force to be reckoned with.

Akemi is always dressed in red, even her eyes are a bit of a reddish-brown rather than brown-black like most other characters, and in her penultimate scene she stands against a backdrop of flames. She is fire: quick-tempered, passionate, full of energy. Red is powerful, authoritative, and in eastern cultures, it is associated with prosperity.

Mizu is blue: her eyes, her sword, her clothes. She is also named after water; it's where she goes to recover, reflect and meditate. Water is fluid like a brook weaving around a stone in its path, always changing and adapting, it is graceful, it is beautiful and ruthless, tranquil yet swift.

Thus, in the future, I expect we will see plenty of political manoeuvring and intrigue in Akemi's plotline, where she fully embraces control of her life, and begins to take action to help others as well, realising that her own oppression is just one piece in a much larger picture. Her main conflict is with society.

In direct contrast, Mizu's main conflict is with herself. She must realise that her desire for vengeance is a projection of her own deep-rooted self-hatred. Her arc must move towards unpacking her feelings and trauma so she can be at peace with herself and allow space for love in her heart. Because as we saw in Ep5, Mizu had come extremely close to achieving peace and joy, as she had not only loved Mikio, but also had briefly believed that Mikio had loved her (and accepted her for who she is) as well.

Thus, assuming the story is not planned as a tragedy, Mizu will likely end up getting her vengeance, but it will not satisfy her, because it is not what she needs. What she needs is to let go of the Onryo within her and to reconcile both The Ronin and The Bride within herself, as she is both a fighter and a lover, but not a monster.

(Edit: I recommend checking out this post by @stylographic-blue-rhapsody for a much clearer analysis about Mizu'a symbolism as Ronin, Bride and Onryo!)

And now that we've mostly covered each of the characters individually, we can finally get to the main point of this post: the love triangle.

--

Let's talk about Option A: Akemi.

As I covered extensively earlier, Mizu and Akemi are foils, a yin-yang pair. But while they play off each other very well in a thematic sense, I personally believe that a serious romance between them will be more complicated if they become endgame. This is because Akemi's natural resolution is to embrace a position of power and influence, where she has both freedom and control over herself and to make much-needed changes in a prejudiced society. Meanwhile, Mizu's natural resolution is the opposite; her happy ending would to find a peaceful life where she is safe and free from prying eyes, and able to be her true self.

Thus, it would make very little sense for Akemi to forfeit power and run away with Mizu and start a humble life together. Akemi wants to be great, and that is absolutely what she deserves. On the other end of the spectrum, it would also make little sense for Mizu to dedicate her life in service of Akemi, such as acting as a bodyguard or something similar, because a life in a palace full of court intrigue and conspiracies is far from what Mizu needs to be happy.

With that being said, if Mizu/Akemi is endgame, and assuming their overarching character arcs do not shift directions, their love story would likely be either tragic, doomed, or bittersweet. I do absolutely love this type of story because personally I'm a sucker for catharsis, so it would be very interesting if the writers do decide to take this route.

Also, as a note, please do not take this as me dunking on this pairing. This is just my personal opinion and analysis and I completely understand if you disagree!

--

Then, of course, we have Option B: Taigen.

Between Akemi and Mizu, Taigen is a bit of a free-floater here, because Season 1 leaves off at a point where his arc is very ambiguous as to where it's headed. While Akemi climbs for greatness and Mizu goes on a journey across the ocean to (presumably) discover more about her heritage, we have little clues about where Taigen is headed. And if I'm being honest, I'm sure he has no idea either! He still hasn't reclaimed his honour, so he would be unable to rejoin the Shindo Dojo; he's been rejected by Akemi; and while he showed loyalty to the shogun, the shogun is now dead, and all the shogun's men who had witnessed his "humiliating" death were left to die by Lady Itoh, who is now pulling the strings within the palace.

Therefore, Taigen has very few options here.

And when considering his role in the story is as Mizu's begrudging ally, his arc will undoubtedly be focused on unlearning his xenophobia and misogyny, the latter of which we have not seen yet, but is surely present. Now, whether he will do this in Mizu's presence or absence will be unknown until we see Season 2. Following the Season 1 finale, he might return to Kohama and wait for Mizu there as he learns humility and remorse over his past cruelty; or maybe he will follow Mizu to London, and the two of them will continue to butt heads until he finally admits to himself that he cares for Mizu more than he would like to admit. There is no room for doubt that his growing feelings for Mizu are more-than-platonic, because we all saw him get turned on by sparring with her in Ep7 lol. Thus, regardless of the exact choice he makes, I am sure that his overall arc will be focused on redeeming his character.

Now, when it comes go redeeming him, I know there are many who simply don't want him redeemed because he was such a jerk to Mizu, and while yes I agree he was awful, I do believe there is also nuance to his character.

Previously I've discussed in great detail the colour and elemental symbolism with Mizu and Akemi, but have yet to touch on how they relate to Taigen. So, let's talk about that for a second.

While Akemi is red and Mizu is blue, Taigen is green.

Green is a complementary colour to Akemi's red. Complementary colours are directly opposite each other in the colour wheel; when mixed, they neutralise each other, but when put side-by-side, they form a pleasing and impactful contrast that boosts the brightness and prominence of both colours. This mirrors Taigen and Akemi's relationship. They are an "ideal" pair because they complement each other very well, and bring out each other's most prominent traits. Mizu's comment about their similar "brattiness" comes to mind here.

Green is also an analogous colour with Mizu's blue. These colours are sitting right next to each other on the colour wheel; their natural similarity makes it easy for them to form a cohesive overall appearance, but using both in equal amounts will make a design overwhelming and too busy. Thus, the best way to use analogous colours is to make one the dominant colour, while the other will serve as an accent. I feel this also speaks to the dynamic in Taigen and Mizu's relationship. They came from the space place, both from nothing; they're both strong fighters who love the sport, and work well together when fighting side-by-side; however, they butt heads too easily, mirroring how analogous colours can be too overwhelming when used in equal amounts. Thus, to work together in harmony, one has to be the dominant colour, while the other serves as the accent. In this case, the dominant force would be Mizu, as she is the protagonist of the story, while the accent would be Taigen.

By fulfilling this role as an "accent" to Mizu, Taigen's character would easily be slotted in as a the love interest. This is in contrast with a Mizu/Akemi relationship, whereby Akemi is Mizu's foil before she is Mizu's love interest. This is because, by being a love interest, a character usually takes a backseat in the story, serving the plot and the themes by playing a purely supportive role, and this is not possible in Akemi's case because her character exists to parallel and contrast Mizu (red and blue), and not to support her.

It is possible to serve as a supporting love interest in Taigen's case however. And this is because he, unlike the other characters, does not currently have a definitive place within the story. He initially served the plot as an antagonistic force, but now as he is slowly unlearning his prejudices and becoming a better person, he can no longer serve the story by acting purely as a rival.

Instead, he will serve the story by literally supporting Mizu. And this relates to Taigen being earth, which is steady, firm and reliable, unwavering in loyalty and principles, hardworking and rooted in stability, which is seen in Taigen's staunch and inflexible obedience to the traditions and rules of society. These traits are what make him a perfect samurai, but not a good man. However, unlike most people in their world, Taigen is still capable of change and redemption, which is why Mizu says that he has the potential to be great. Not great by way of power or glory, but great in character. Already, he is honourable to a fault, and does not betray Mizu even after she technically robbed him of everything he was striving towards. And when he was shot by an arrow in the chasm, he did not hesitate a second to tell Mizu to use him as a human shield and save herself.

The trigger for his redemption is Mizu. If she had never beat him in that duel, Taigen would live on to become a man like Akemi's father. Cruel, power-hungry, controlling, conservative. But through Mizu, Taigen's sharp edges are ground down, much like water that wears down the stones in a river.

Where Mizu and Akemi's possible love story would be a clash of wills, full of passion and even heartbreak, a possible love story between Mizu and Taigen would be the wearing down of souls. Mizu would make Taigen a better person, and in turn Taigen would dedicate his full respect and support to Mizu as his equal, thus getting her to slowly open up and love herself. Already, Taigen has grown enough to admit (begrudgingly, and in his own Taigen way) that Mizu is better than him; though, clearly, he still has a long way to go, as he still calls Mizu a demon shortly after that.

But basically, Taigen is a very simple man (his main goal now is "to be happy"), and Mizu has great depths that he cannot yet fathom. For this love story to work, it has to begin with Taigen changing for the better. If he succeeds in that, and is able to accept Mizu for all her complexities, I believe that they will make a formidable pair. And though he'd likely still throw a jab or snarky remark at Mizu every now and then, I think he'd come tl wholeheartedly admire Mizu as a brilliant swordsman and a kind soul. Thus, should things work out and this be endgame, Taigen would be able to provide Mizu with what Mikio could not: an idyllic life that is not built on a lie, but mutual trust, respect, admiration, and equality.

Or hey, maybe they could both make their own dojo together! I don't know.

(Edit: This post by @rinandsketches does a great job at delving into Taigen's character and a potential Mizu/Taigen relationship if you'd like to read more about this angle!)

--

Now, as I move on from Taigen, there are a couple more options on how to resolve this love triangle and that includes Option C: Ringo.

In this option, Mizu does not have an endgame romance with either Akemi or Taigen. In this route, she finds peace and love through friendship, solidarity, and a found family between herself, Ringo and Master Eiji—a bunch of outcasts in society who make a strong trifecta of sword-makers.

Also, as an aside while I'm talking about Ringo, I'd like to point out that I believe his element is air and his colour is a neutral grey; he is talkative, easy-going, wise, curious, light on his feet (stealthy) and free-spirited, which are all traits linked to air, and traits that complement Mizu nicely, as he is capable of getting Mizu to open up and trust others again, while Mizu helps him reach his true potential for greatness.

--

And finally, there's Option D: Polyamory.

This is basically an "all of the above" option, in which everyone wins and it's a super duper happy ending. It would also be awesome to get some polyamorous representation, and seeing the dynamic between Akemi/Mizu/Taigen play out would be very entertaining and refreshing. So, you never know, this just might be the true endgame!

--

AAAAND with that, I close my extremely long analysis of what is essentially Mizu's love life. Whatever the final outcome of this love triangle though, I just hope it will be well-written and satisfying to all the characters' respective arcs. (Also I just want Mizu to be HAPPY goddamn it because she deserves the world and her coochie eaten out)

Now, I highly doubt anyone will read any of this (especially not until the end!) but that's fine. I just have so many thoughts and feelings about this show and I just needed to get this out of my system lol! But if by some miracle you did read this far, I wholeheartedly welcome any sharing of thoughts and ideas because man am I obsessed with this show! But of course, if we have an opposing opinions, please be respectful when letting me know; I am very open to friendly discussions.

[rashomonss]

your Learning to Adapt hc was amazing, i loved it sm!!!

that being said, i need a dateables ver., i crave the sweet succulent angst (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡

a/n: ahh thank you! I’m so glad you and so many others liked it omg!! I got a bunch of comments and asks for a pt 2, so due to popular demand here is a dateables + luke version of learning to adapt! hope you enjoy!

warnings: there will be some small spoilers concerning seasons 3 and 4 of the og! obey me, it’s nothing major though

readjusting | learning to adapt pt 1.

it’s not the same without you

Diavolo is left with remnants of you all around him. All the belongings you left at the Demon Lord's castle remain in the same spots they were placed in by you. None of them are touched, he can’t bring himself to.

A part of him feels as if he failed you somehow, he's supposed to be the demon prince yet he couldn’t even protect the person he cherished the most.

Whenever he eats dinner it always happens to be a human world dish. One of your favorites, for some odd reason he hasn’t wanted much Devildom food since you’ve left.

Diavolo goes through many stages of grief during this time.

At first he drowns himself in his responsibilities, so much so Barbatos questions if he is receiving enough rest.

However once you get him into bed he can never seem to get out, instead he stares at the pillow case next to him and sighs. Only a few months ago you were laying there next to him smiling as you both talked late into the night about anything and everything.

He loved talking to you. If anything he misses your voice the most. That reassuring voice always seemed to brighten his day as well as others around him. That lovely voice that would put him to sleep at night when he claimed to have trouble sleeping.

If Diavolo was honest he’d give anything to hear you call his name once again.

Barbatos finds himself lonely for one of the first times in his existence.

More often than not he’s gotten used to you being alongside him as he cooks or cleans around the castle. With that in mind he’ll turn over his shoulder to ask you something but then realize you're not there. Often times when this happens he’ll make a face then silently continue cleaning.

The numerous little D’s around the castle tend to worry for him because he’s always on edge lately. Especially after a certain trip to the market he made alone.

It was a morning like any other and Barbatos set off for one of his favorite outdoor markets. Diavolo requested a human realm dish and this place was the perfect place for acquiring human realm food.

You often went with him, explaining your favorite foods and what not to him when you got the chance. He loved leaning more about you at any given chance, especially if you were alone with him.

As he stepped into the market and gathered a few goods here and there he began to pay the shop owner and then man made a remark of him missing his other half. Barbatos knew that he was referring to you and with that he payed the shop owner quickly and then left.

Ever since then he’s stopping visiting that stall.

If he’s being honest he’s not fond of making your favorite dishes for Diavolo while you’re not here. However he’ll never mention that to anyone.

Simeon wishes to be an angel again, this was the first and only time he wished that.

If he was then…maybe he could possibly aid with your safe return. That’s what he tells himself anyway. Simeon can’t help but blame himself for whatever reason for your disappearance.

While you're gone he takes this time to comfort Luke as well as the brothers. If he’s able to keep a level head then it should make others less anxious.

He also takes up cleaning most of Purgatory Hall as well as the House of Lamentation when the brothers lock themselves away for certain periods of time.

Simeon tries his hardest to remain calm and distract himself with other hobbies he likes; however each little thing he does reminds him of you.

When he picks up a pen he thinks of how you adored his work, praised it even, as you laid on his bed while he told you numerous different story plots and tales he had for upcoming chapters. When he passes a store and sees only his reflection a pang is felt in his chest. Just a few months ago both of you shared a smiling reflection in a store window as you walked hand in hand with him.

He doesn't know how much more of this he can take, but he’ll never let anyone know that.

Luke bakes himself into exhaustion. Oftentimes he bakes recipes the two of you would make when you spent the night at Purgatory Hall. Recently however, Simeon has had to stop him because the countertops are overflowing with sweets as Luke puts a new cake into the oven.

Luke likes to carry out activities you both would do together, such as watching the same shows you liked to watch with him, or visiting the same places you would take him too when you weren’t with the brothers.

Luke misses you so much but he knows you're okay, Simeon told him so. Still that doesn’t calm his emotions any less. Because of this Luke continues to pray for your safety and will bless your belongings.

This has caused some issues with the brothers because they become unable to touch that item for a while.

Just like the others he sometimes will visit your room and just sit silently in there wishing and praying for your safe return.

Bonus characters

Mephisto finds himself ignoring the desk you use while you spent time in the newspaper club room.

Sure all of your belongings are there and in the same place as well as all the pictures of the brothers and your other friends. Even him. But he doesn’t care.

It’s not as if he dusts off your desk at the end of every week and does weekly checks on your camera to make sure it’s up to date and still has all of the saved pictures you took.

It’s not as if he hasn’t downloaded a copy of the photos on your camera to is own personal laptop and scrolls through the ones you took of you and him when he feels lonely.

Of course he doesn’t miss the human who invaded his club room and made it lively like they do to every part of the school they reside in.

He doesn’t even realize that he gets the same drink every afternoon from the vending machine. It’s not as if you brought it to him every time you showed up. He just drinks it because it’s good.

And no he doesn’t glance at the door every hour or so hoping you’d barge in. Thats ludicrous. But currently its only a hope in his mind.

Thirteen sighs as she looks across the Devildom. Usually you both would be sharing this beautiful sight together, however she’s alone today. Like always.

She deems it fine. But maybe company would be nice, maybe. She’s grown found of your voice, your company, and even the atmosphere you bring to a conversation. She could sit and listen to you for hours.

She still wears the friendship bracelet you made her. It’s never been taken off once. And since she’s had a bit of spare time while you’ve been away she made you a few. Maybe some to even wear in your next life.

Since she can’t give it to you currently she put it around the base of your candle, that she watches daily; hourly even.

For her favorite human to disappear out of the blue like this made her very protective of your soul. At times she finds herself blabbing to your candle when she’s had an interesting day, or if she has a new trap idea.

To her it’s nice talking to the candle, but she really wishes to talk to the owner of it more.

At first Raphael didn’t feel completely lonely like the others. He had a decent relationship with you but it wasn’t nearly as close as Simeon’s or Luke’s for that matter.

However a part of him can’t help but try to comfort the beings around him during this time. He does truly care for the brothers so he does whatever he can to help them as well as Simeon.

At the end of the day he does find himself missing you. The conversations you would have with him were interesting and he loved the sparkle your eye would hold when he talked about his days in the celestial realm when the brothers were still angels.

He promised to take you to the celestial realm a while ago and show off in depth how beautiful it was. You smiled at his promise and he always remember that.

Sighing to himself, he currently wished to walk with you through a celestial realm garden to ease his mind.