#and that's how he ended up wearing her top most layers

[aquitainequeen]

Oh, that moment as Sauron/Halbrand smiles slowly, cautiously, shyly, at the world about him, even though he's stranded in a frozen wasteland - because for the first time in centuries he can see, he can hear, he can feel the cold upon his skin, he is truly embodied once more.

This moment of quiet joy, while he's wrapped in the cloak of the woman whom he devoured for these senses, this body.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.  

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

[lavenderspence]

unexplained sadness | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K

Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron

Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.

A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕

masterlist

You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins. 

But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while. 

And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.

The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness. 

Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all. 

It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing. 

Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner. 

The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes. 

You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume. 

But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft. 

You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known. 

Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing. 

Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes. 

You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.

Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way. 

You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch. 

You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making. 

The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all. 

Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself. 

You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light. 

Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was. 

“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.

“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.

A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both. 

“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind. 

“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.  

“You’re not doing well.” 

You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”

“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it. 

“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.

Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself. 

You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.” 

“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too. 

“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else. 

He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling. 

He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same. 

You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with. 

And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned. 

In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow. 

It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.

For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not. 

For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were living instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that. 

You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist. 

“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner. 

He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth. 

“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice. 

A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years. 

“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.

You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed. 

“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.

“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.

“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.

“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”

A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress. 

He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely. 

You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more. 

The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process. 

You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiii

Can you make another Alastor x Rarity reader like I love it sm and I need more 😭😭❤️

If you do thank youuuu

I definitely can! My dear @sillyalastor, here will be yours and @nenerobobot’s post for Rarity-reader and Al! I hope you both like our kinda short follow up to the Radio Demon and his Drama Queen!

Alastor- Diamond Trio

Alastor knows how much of a detail-orientated and fussy woman you are, and he knows fashion colours, stitching processes, habits, facts and more on the top of his head. He knows what is considered eggshell white and what is considered ivory white. That’s how much time he spends with you

Alastor has been teaching you some new recipes, ones that get a bit messy. Whilst, you’re very worried about getting food on you and is wearing about five layers of protection each time you cook with him. He finds it cute and cheers you on for you being so precise and careful with the measurements. You’ll stand there for five minutes making sure the water percentage is just perfect and he thrives off that

Alastor is not a fan of you being friends with any of the Overlords except Rosie, so when he finds out, you befriended a fellow fashionista Velvette. He is supportive of your wishes but he is glaring down Velvette and threatening her behind your back to not hurt you or he’ll hurt her. Needless to say… Al’s protective and he doesn’t tolerate any of your friends trying to ruin your spirits or your work

So that means, if anybody rejects your outfit choice and creation you made for them, even politely. Alastor will hunt them down. You’re generous and you should be praised for that generosity. Alastor takes everything you give him, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll merely ask for some additions. He won’t ever demand a new outfit or item

Now. How did you and Alastor meet, you ask? You met him at a grand gala. It mainly consisted of Overlords but a handful of Sinners were invited and you were one of them, brought into this ‘incredible’ party

Alastor had been quite intrigued by you, the moment he saw you. A gorgeous, classy, sophisticated sinner dressed in the most pretty, regal maroon pink dress he has ever seen. You had attended this ‘best night ever’ party in hopes to find your prince, the man of your dreams and when you ran into a prissy but handsome Overlord that screamed prince-like grace, you immediately latched onto him. Unaware that you’re actual prince is the one Overlord all the guests avoided like the plague

Alastor couldn’t bring himself to just ignore the only shining jewel within this boring, prim and proper high-class party. He was so uninterested that he only got entertainment out of talking to his dear friend, Rosie. So after some careful yet quick consideration, he begun to follow you and your… date around the large palace hosting this gala under the cover of shadows. He was curious on what you’d do and the disgust he felt over this Overlord acting so uncharming and so harsh to a sweet lady such as yourself. He doesn’t tolerate women of radiance being disrespected

Alastor is so glad that you finally put your foot down after all the treatment: that ‘Prince’ of a Overlord making you pay for treats, making you give up the cushion seat, taking your rose for himself, making you throw your gorgeous silky-fabric shawl over a puddle so neither of you would slip. No gentleman should treat his lady this way and his blood is boiling in pure disgust at his fellow Overlord. The final straw is when that Overlord used you as a shield to block off the pretty strawberry icing cheesecake that came flying at the pair of you

Alastor watched from the sidelines with much pride and respect, over you talking that Overlord down and proclaiming he is a royal pain but of course, that ‘prince’ only cared about his looks and was scared of you drenched in the cake. Shaking off some of the cake on your dress, hair and face to get it onto the Overlord, out of raw rage. You ended up stomping out of the main big dance ballroom, furious and on the verge of crying. Leaving that ‘date’ of yours behind

Alastor couldn’t stop himself from following you. He was curious how a pretty mid-atlantic accented lady would handle being humiliated and having lashed out against her ‘date’ in front of almost ALL of the guests in the Gala. Your pretty sparkly almost diamond-like eyes poured tears, smudging your nice mascara and light blue eyeshadow as you stomped into the pretty empty gardens and cried out your rage

Oh. Alastor didn’t like seeing somebody so innocent and done no wrong mistreated like this. Even if it was amusing, he doesn’t like it

So, he finally approaches you after a few seconds of watching you vent out your feelings through sobs. His strong sharp crimson red eyes going from your forehead golden crown to the glass plumps to the still damp shawl tied around your shoulders in a classy princess style. You’re the most beautiful guest at this sorry excuse of a Gala. Alastor folds one arm behind his back, his own gala-style black, white and red coloured suit making his red and black colouration pop as he presents you with a rose

“I believe this is yours, my dear” Your glassy eyes turned over to look at him, the almost folded, multi-layers of your dress hugging your curves and hiding your leg movements as it just felt like this night went from the worst to the best. Is this the actual gentleman you’ve always wanted?! Gently reaching out, you’re a bit intimidated by how strong his glare is, how visible his golden yellow fangs are through that wide open grin, with how menacing his long fingers are

Taking the still stemmed rose from Alastor, you didn’t even know his name but you wished you did… you are a bit scared he may be a fake like that awful Overlord you were chasing after just before but he seems friendly enough. Alastor lifts up your hands with his single one, precisely placing the rose into your prettily curled and tied up hair, just above your bangs before speaking once more. His entire presence leaking charm, grace and poise

“Shall we dance?”

You were a bit shy, still drenched in destroyed layered cake batter but Alastor didn’t even chuckle at how ruined your clean, neat look is now. He merely snaps his fingers and like that, all the sweet confectionery remains are gone and all the ruffled, ripped or knotted parts of your dress and hair is smoothed out to perfection, as well as your slightly wet shawl back to being completely dry and your makeup returned to more presentable. Just like how you looked when you entered this Gala and when Alastor first saw you. Taking a deep breath, your cheeks flustered and blushy

You take his hand and with a single tug, you and him are dancing together in the calm, breezy, beautiful gardens of the giant gala palace, no music, no other prissy annoying guests. Just the plants, the animals and you two

Your eyes are no long filled to the brim with tears, anger and heartbreak. You’re now developing a sense of admiration and awe at Alastor being so gentlemanly and sweet with you in seconds flat, he’s treating you the way you wanted that blueblood ass to treat you and it’s making your heart flutter. Twirling slowly in a nice slow steady waltz, the only music ringing is the sound of the nearby birds singing

That night was the best night ever

[sweatyracoon]

Put on a Show

Summary: Stripper!Seungmin trope.

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, oral(f), pet names(pup/puppy), softdom!Seungmin, inexperienced reader!, strippers, grinding, mxm(if your squint), sexiness

Your friends birthday was today, and instead of being a normal birthday girl, she insisted on taking you and all of her friends on a surprise trip. And the shocker was, only she knew the location.

You weren’t a very open person. You were an extreme introvert, so going out with seven other girls wasn’t your cup of tea. However, you couldn’t say no to Janice. She had always been there for you, and you wanted to do the same. She told you to wear something sexy, and the only thing you had was an oversized sweater that reached past your thighs.

When Janice came to pick you up, she saw your outfit.

“Girl… what are you wearing?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing what was behind those words.

“I’m a nerdy book girl. What makes you think I own anything sexy?”

“Take off your jeans. The sweater and a thong will do,”

Now, here you were, at a strip club, wearing an oversized sweater with panties. You walked at the end of the group, out of your element. Following them to a table, you sat, feeling awkward while they all talked adamantly about Bree’s ex. Wait. Which one is Bree?

You hadn’t been following the conversation, and Janice saw how nervous you were. She sat next to you, grabbing your hand.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like Bree, either,” she joked, making you scoff playfully at her. She always knew how to make you feel better, even if it was for a short while.

“The shows starting!” You heard one of the girls whisper as the lights dimmed slightly, the spotlight directed towards the two stages in front of you.

Janice chose a table directly in between the two stages, giving them a clear view of both worlds.

“Don’t be shy, y/n. They are paid to show off their bodies. It’s consensual,” she explained like you didn’t already know.

You still felt yourself shift uneasily. This wasn’t your type of scene, so you naturally wanted to turn away, even if there was no one on the stage yet.

The into to a slow song started, the color of the lights shifting to the darker side as multiple men appeared from behind the curtains. Most of them were barely wearing anything, half naked from the start. Your face immediately cringed, your eyes darting from each man to the ceiling and back, trying to look at each one. They were all different, but all the same at the same time. None of them looked to be around your age, which made you feel queasy.

Despite your internal objections, the girls at your table were all basically barking and foaming at the mouth, throwing bills at them when they got close. Your eye caught something in your peripheral, making you turn. And when you saw him, your heart dropped.

A man…no, a boy, walked down the aisle to the main stage, fully clothed. Perhaps bit too much for some of the woman’s taste, but for you, he was pure eye candy.

He was wearing black skinny jeans with tears at the knees, and a black tank top with a mess sleeve layered on top, tucked in and all held together with a thin leather belt. His neck was laced with jewelry, and his hair was unkempt, shaggy and pointing in every direction. His face pale but soft, his lips plush and his eyes hard, but beautiful.

He was so tall, but his walk was graceful. He looked reserved and dissatisfied as he looked around his current audience. It was almost like he was tired of being there, but it was all a facade. It was apart of the themed charm of the day.

Your attention was solely focused on this boy, and Janice noticed it too. You watched as he finally stopped, almost directly in front of you, and starts dancing to the song that sped up. His body rolled smoothly, making your mind wander to places it had never been before, making you squirm, now for another reason.

His hands caressed his body, groping himself in all the right places, earning a satisfying reaction from his audience. His hips thrusted at the perfect time with the song, his knees twisting slightly, making your breath hitch. The most enjoyable thing for you, though, would had to have been his facial expressions.

His straight mouth at the beginning was now open, his jaw opened as he was breathing hard. From what, you didn’t know. All you knew though, was that it was so hot. His hard eyes were now softened slightly as he looks around the room, but also focused on his movements. His messy hair now recked.

You noticed someone slightly younger than him come towards him, someone you didn’t notice before. They seemed to be the youngest employees here, you thought.

The boy had slanted eyes, and from where you were sitting, it almost looked like they were closed. You had to admit that he was also very attractive.

When the younger boy reached the stripper you had been watching, they met each other’s eyes before nodding, the younger boy stepping in front of the older, the song suddenly changing. The older grabbed the younger waist, grinding into his ass while they both made a blissed out expression. His head lolled back as the younger boy grinned, grinding harder into him before the older reached lower than his waist, groping his-

Woah.

You didn’t realize your jaw was open until you felt a Hand underneath your chin. Janice was smirking at you when you caught her gaze. You didn’t want to look away from the boys, but you did. Your body couldn’t handle anymore.

“Still regret coming with me?” She teased, making your red face hotter. “I know it’s my birthday and all, but I think my gift will be buying you a one on one room with him. What do you think?” She whispered to you, seeing your eyes widen comically.

“What? No! I’m not doing that. I’m the shy nerd book girl, remember? Besides, I’m not going to take your gift money for something like that,”

Next thing you knew, you were sitting in a private room waiting for the selected stripper. Your friend was choosing between the two boys you were so intently watching. You were hoping she would pick the mesh topped boy, but you also thought the fox-looking boy was attractive. Still, you were scared because you had no experience in literally anything. Not even kissing.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard the sound of the door knob twisting. You held your breath as you waiting to see the identity of the person coming from behind it, not releasing it when you saw your choice.

“Hey there, cutie,” he said, and you nearly melted from his angelic voice. It was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of the night, and that might just be what happens if you don’t make a fool of yourself.

“Hi,” your voice came out strained and nervous, making you mentally scold yourself.

“You okay?” He asks with a smirk, walking to where you’re sitting. “You look nervous.”

You grin stupidly at the comment, confirming his accusation. “Sorry, I’m not really…supposed to be here,” you said, looking anywhere but him. But all you wanted was to look at him. But his eyes…they observed every bit of you, making you feel vulnerable.

“What do you mean, pup?” He bends down to your level, his height difference making you feel something pool in your stomach.

“I’m supposed to be reading a book in my bed. Actually, I’d be asleep by now, if it weren’t for-“ before you could finish, his hand rested on your thigh, making you flush.

“A birthday? Yeah, the birthday girl came up to me and told me a whole bunch of things…specifically about you, pup,” He smiled, rubbing circles into the plush of your legs.

Every time he used that pet name, you felt a wetness between your thighs, sticking your panties to your core. “Oh dear god! What things?” Now you were alert and jerked slightly, making him rub circles counterclockwise.

“Nothing important. Just that this was your first time in a place like this. She thought you weren’t into it, but then she saw you looking at me. I was so honored that a pretty girl like you was watching me instead of the others,” his head tilted, leaning in slightly as he continued. “So she asked if I would be willing to give you a private show.”

By now you were unable to speak, shocked and horny as hell.

“So, I’ll start this slow. Since it’s your first time,” he squeezed your thigh twice before standing up, his figure looming over you. You pushed your legs together, hoping to quell the heat that had formed in between them.

“What do you want, pup?” He whispered, staring into your wide eyes, his whole demeanor changing so suddenly it gave you whiplash. Away was the sweet puppy look, now a hungry boy willing to please you any way you wanted.

“I…what’s your name?” You stutter, looking down after realizing he was probably expecting you to say something sexy. You scoffed at yourself before feeling him pull your gaze to his by your chin.

“My stage name is Puppym…but my name is Seungmin,” he answered, not letting you go. “And you?”

“Y/n,” you breathed, unable to escape from him any longer.

“What a beautiful name. I’ll take this slow, y/n. Let me know if you want me to stop,” He said, moving his hands to his belt, but before taking them off, he asked, “Can I touch you?” He grinned after seeings you nod immediately.

He threw his belt in the corner after taking it off, letting his pants drift down slightly. No skin showed, but the promise of it was exciting enough for you. You watched as he pushed his hands through his hair before coming to where you were sitting, straddling your lap with his legs. His hips started grinding without actually even touching you. All you could was watch as he danced suggestively, all intention pointed at you.

You felt how hot you were inside as your mind started thinking about what was underneath his sexy clothing, but was quickly redirected when he grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

You gasped, making him smirk, his legs brushing against yours. He slowly drifted your hand downwards. You could feel the phantom of muscles underneath the double layer, making you shiver, trying your best to imagine muscles on his petite figure. Finally, your hand rested on his waist, where he left it, moving his hand from yours.

“You okay, pup?” He teased, seeing you practically drooling over his minimal movements. He liked seeing how worked up you were. Such an innocent girl, him being the one to show her his world.

You let out a little, “mhm,” making him laugh. He stopped, moving back a little.

“Wanna see more?” He asked, grabbing at the hem of his mesh sleeves. You nodded, your eyes starting to gloss over. “Speak up, puppy.”

“Y-yes please, Minnie,” You said, surprising him. No one had ever called him that, but he loved the way it sounded coming from your lips. He watched as your hands grabbed at the sweater on your legs. It helped him see further up it.

He nodded, pulling it off in one quick motion. You pr breath hitches when you see his arms, the muscle lining his forearms made your mouth water. His collar bones protruded from his taught skin, the jewelry shimmering in the dim lighting of the private room. His tight tank top outlined his torso perfectly, letting you see the shadow of his abs that reached all the way down below his jeans. You swallowed.

He came back towards your again, now crouching down to sit on his knees in front of you. He placed his hands on your calves respectively, brushing against them so softly. A ghosts touch.

He , painfully slow, brought them up to your knees before grasping them from behind, pulling them apart quickly making you gasp.

He loved how you were reacting to him. Even though he wanted to fuck you into this cushion, it was against the rules to go that far. He knew that he needed to get your number after this so he could see you again. He had never been so into a private show as much as he was with this one. Never been attracted to one of his ‘fans’. He wanted you so bad. But he couldn’t go that far. But he would please you as much as he could before you had to leave.

His face leaned in closer to your core, stopping only to tease you with pepper kisses along the inside of your thighs. He even sucked a few marks into them before his fingers reached the end of the sweater, tugging at it in a silent question. lol you could do was nod, your breathing heavy and hot, cute whimpers leaving every once and a while.

He tapped your hip, making you lift them so he could push your sweater up. He squeezed your thighs twice, pushing them apart to view your pussy through your underwear. He moaned at the sight, your soggy cloth attached to you. He pressed a hard kiss to your covered folds, making your head fall back.

“Shh, puppy. Gotta keep quiet,” he said, placing another kiss against you. You squirmed, whimpering at his words.

He brought his fingers to feel the fabric, pushing them aside for a better view. He groaned, seeing the glistening slick that was spread against your folds. Licking a line up your pussy, your thighs instinctively came together, but he didn’t allow them to. He needed space if he wanted to please you properly, no matter how bad he wanted you to suffocate him with your cunt.

He sucked on your clit as he pushed a finger into you, making you moan. He tapped your leg with his other hand in warning, and you bit into your hand as he continued. He pumped into you a bit longer before adding another finger, slowly picking up his pace. Then, he curled them, hitting that spot within you that made you clench around him. Your sounds and his wet lapping was filling his senses, making his groan again. The vibrations to your clit are what made you snap, your orgasm rushing over you suddenly, your stomach clenching as you released, Seungmin there, ready to devour your essence.

After he pulled away, what you saw is something you would never forget. His beautiful face covered with your juices, a playful smile displayed, and blown irises in his cute eyes. “You okay?” He asked, rubbing circles into your thighs again.

“Yeah…” you answered, still trying to breathe properly again. You were hickory to find your bearings, lowering your sweater while Seungmin wiped his face clean. “Do you do that often?”

He looked back at you in surprise before answering.

“No. That was my first time eating someone out,” he said, making your heart stop. He continued. “We aren’t supposed to do that with customers. Just a dance and then leave, but…I don’t know. You’re adorable, and…Oh! Speaking of which, can I get your number?”

You just sat there for a moment, probably looking like an idiot, but your mind wasn’t working. You couldn’t even see the doubt that crept onto Seungmin features. Before you could take to long, however, you pulled out your phone suddenly, handing it to Seungmin.

“Give me yours, and I’ll message you? I know you’re working right now and everything, but once you get off, you’ll see my text,” You said with a smile, excited.

He did what you asked, dressing himself again before standing in front of your small frame. “I’m glad you came tonight,” He grinned, giving you a quick peck on the lips, grinning at your dumbfounded expression. “You’re so cute, y/n,” was the last thing he said before leaving.

When you returned to your friend, she asked you how it went.

“I’m so glad I came tonight,”

[canadianno]

TCOLC AU Bishop refs!

They're done holy FUCK. The art here is kind of old, so some of the proportions are a little wrong, but I don't really mind all that much. 15 hours and 89 layers later, all 5 bishops are done. On one canvas because... I didn't wanna make new ones I'm ngl.

Each bishop has an everyday outfit and a crusade outfit! If you're drawing them at any point (now or in the future) and you have questions about the designs, don't be scared to send an ask my way, I'm always happy to clarify stuff.

(Note: I would greatly appreciate it if people didn't make suggestive jokes surrounding any of the designs, I'm not comfortable with them! Love yall <3)

Ramblings below! Edited note: tumblr likes to completely break my posts when I add a cut sometimes, which happened here, so I'm not gonna put one in hopes that it doesn't kill my formatting again. Hopefully it automatically "read more"s this post. If it doesn't I'm very sorry 🙏

🌿 Leshy: It's to be noted that my Leshy is transmasc, literally just because I think he deserves it, it's cool as fuck. I really wanted to give him the classic top-surgery scars because, I'll be honest, they're fun to draw, but I had to find a reasonable explanation for it because he's not a mammal. Anyway that's how I ended up with an entire evolutionary explanation for why he would have those. I will never be given the chance to explain it in the fic ever, so it shall just be random information I have forever. I love him he's silly.

🍄 Heket: While I am a big supporter of tomboy Heket, I also think she deserves to be cool and wear pretty frills whenever the fuck she wants. She's awesome and her shirt is supposed to look like a mushroom. It's also worth noting that the crosses on the bishops heads are specific, with Heket having two crosses with double prongs. She has them like this in-game and there's probably a cooler explanation for it but. I have my own silly headcanons bc I do what I want! Also, since I can't decide for the fucking life of me if she's a toad or a frog, I've decided she's just. Both. Both of them. Her mom was a frog her dad was a toad. Is this possible irl? No but COTL is a fantasy world I do whatever the fuck I want.

🌑 Narinder: Main thing I note for Narinder is that he has distinct facial markings, you just have to look closely. Another note is that his clothes have a repeating cloud motif because of the fog in the gateway- which, trust, it was his own idea. Lamb doesn't know why he chose it but they're not gonna argue. Narinders' main robes are made of wool, but his crusade outfit is made of cotton so it's easier to repair if damaged. His crusade outfit has the Big Pants because he's mostly gotta fight with his feet now, since most of the time his hands don't function reliably enough to hold a weapon.

🪸 Kallamar: Kallamar is funny to me because he's the only one here who's plantigrade, meaning he's got human-esque legs. Another notable design aspect is that he has a tail, when squids do Not Normally Have Those. That's because my Kallamar isn't fully a squid, and you can kinda sorta blame my mutual for that. Not really it's me who gave him the tail. Anyway, no matter how you draw him or what outfit he's in those 3 dark red jewels on the golden chain thing gotta be on him somewhere- they're sentimental to him. He usually wears them as a crown, but in the crusade outfit they're around his neck to be safer. Also, on the crusade outfit, he has stolen a set of Shamuras gloves. Brat little brother <3

🔮 Shamura: Their main outfit really closely resembles their bishop robes and that is intentional! They made the robes themselves, and it would've been close to an exact match had the Lamb banned them from using golden colored cloth. This is only partially because Lamb doesn't like them, but also because they don't want the bishops trying to start a mutiny, and walking around in bishop robes is a pretty easy way to collect weaker followers like flies. Shamuras' crusade outfit is also pretty unique compared to the others, and one of two reasons is that it's meant to resemble their old crusade outfits when they were younger. The second reason is that they look really cool. The outfit is designed for mobility, mostly, and before you say anything, the hip windows are because Shamura usually holds close range weaponry in the second set of arms and hates the way they snag on fabric when its there.

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35 Preview

Coming soon...

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan them to us for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with the mayor there, one of the state senators. So many wealthy, important people like you."

That had you scoffing. "I'm no one special. At least not in the world of such important, political figures."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. A soft mask of golden sequins that fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of that name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

That had you smiling. Sure, Scott would keep you and Steve safe, but he also got time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena knew Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But since you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena, too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all that she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know that I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories you heard now that you were more involved were just horrified. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver.

A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like you got the look right. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion, seasons, all of it. You would learn. But until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile that question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a fairytale princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets two weeks ago.

[yridenergyridenergy]

Live report - Tour24 Who Is This Hell For? 2024/11/21 at Zepp Sapporo

Setlist:

Ruten no tou

AMON

Hageshisa to, kono mune no naka de karamitsuita shakunetsu no yami

Keigaku no yoku

Magayasou

Celebrate Empty Howls

Mitsu to tsuba

DIABOLOS

VINUSHKA

OBSCURE

Ochita koto no aru sora

The Inferno

-encore-

The Devil In Me

Values of Madness

Uroko

Eddie

My thoughts overall today are:

- so many echoes of Kyo's voice!

- This took me back to the first few times I saw Dir en grey live, in Canada, and the first times in Japan too. Times that were easier, where I was doing fine. The last time I saw them in Sapporo, in 2019, was also literally the beginning of this somewhat debilitating medical condition, caused by my own mistake. Therefore, this whole setlist, the songs and their meaning, conveyed a lot for me in this instance.

Shinya walked on stage dressed in all white. For some reason, it seemed like it was the first time that I could see him properly at his drum set. He was a literal prince! He looked so majestic, so strong. Magayasou especially was HIS time to shine! His drumming is so disorganized, and there was almost rancour and disdain behind one of his side hits during one of the songs, like if anybody had been standing there, they would have been utterly knocked out before they could blink. Also, regarding Shinya, Die tried to interact, but it seemed like Toshiya was the one who was successful in catching Shinya's glance, unless Shinya would have looked that way whether Toshiya was standing there or not hah. And it seemed to me like Shinya was truly peering at us from time to time, which I'd somehow never noticed.

Die was wearing some kind of light black tunic on top of a black tank top whose collar was very low, and he had leather short shorts on top of tights with a swirly design.

Regarding Die, the verdict is clear: he mouths total nonsense hahah. It really isn't the lyrics most of the time. He's just pumping us up by gaping his mouth a few times. He smiled so much throughout the show. I can't remember which song it was, but when it ended, he looked so ecstatic and proud, it reminded me of a high school girl finishing the performance of her life! I think that image stems from how young and happy he looked hah. His long hair kept getting stuck on his guitars.

Toshiya wore a black satin outfit with loooong panels below the sleeves. He had not only his thighs but his shoulders bare too. He had at least some lipstick, from what I remember. Toshiya was totally dramatic and expressive, like we know him to be hah.

Kaoru always impresses me by how he doesn't appear to sweat, and yet he wears the most layers in the band! He had the entire emperor look, baggy pants tucked into high boots, kind of like a horse rider, and the white dress shirt, cape, etc. He had makeup to accentuate his temples, as well as a bit of lining around his eyes, I think?

Kyo came on stage last of course, wearing all black. T-shirt tucked into clean black straight pants, black ribbed socks and shiny black work shoes. No makeup whatsoever. His hair was maybe an inch long. The tattoo next to his right eye is really visible, but this time I was on the kamite side, so I couldn't observe it much. And yeah, he has filled up the space below his jaw to outline his face. It looks like random lines: what pops up is a circular space left almost blank in the centre of his throat like to indicate where to do a tracheotomy, one line left blank on the sides, his Damned tattoo, and the two melded faces on the right side of his neck. If "Truth" is still written below his chin, it's barely distinguishable. Kyo's barbed wire tattoo sticks out a lot from his hairline at the top, despite the length of his hair right now.

It seemed like Kyo got really into the songs mostly at Diabolos. He also peeked at his lyrics memo sheets a lot, not that I blame him.

Ruten no tou was really cool. After "Sora yo", Kyo's voice is doubled in canon echoes, until the part where, in the studio recording, he does a light-pitched sigh, but in this live performance, it was merely an exhale.

The audience would have left Ruten no tou to end and transition into the next song in silence if I hadn't initiated a cheer, which happened a couple of other times. The only moment where we did let the band transition in silence was after Keigaku no yoku, because it would have been super inappropriate to cheer after he ended the song in: "Ore wa sakebu... HAYAKU SHINEEE!!" He ad-libbed Keigaku no yoku for at least the first half. No real clue what he said, it sounded like he was murmuring with the mic too close to his lips. Oh and it was awesome when they echoed Kyo's high-pitched sounds after the harder parts.

AMON was quite cool too. I don't remember anything special right now, other than that it was yet another moment where Shinya's drumming shone.

Hageshisa to, and frankly all of the other songs too, seemed to get the reaction that the band wanted. Everyone pitched in and headbanged as usual. Kyo had us sing a few parts and he did the traditional a capella: "Dive, like hell, and desTROY". Toshiya did his spins with very wide and dramatic movements, but it was clearly because there was no other way to avoid his super long sleeve fabric from interfering with him playing the bass hah.

Magayasou, I literally paid attention mostly to Shinya because of how badass his drumming is in that song. I just remember that I've definitely seen Kyo way more involved in that song in the past, but not now.

Oh, I don't recall which song exactly it was in the first few, but it was funny seeing Kaoru and Die hurry back from the edge of the stage to their mics whenever they realized that: "Oops, I've got backup vocals in 3, 2, 1..." Toshiya almost seemed to follow Kaoru with his stare when it happened like Kaoru snapped out of a trance.

During Celebrate Empty Howls, it feels like the performance was even more energetic from Kyo and the others when I last saw it in an assigned-seat hall. Either way, it involved Toshiya, Die and Kaoru coming to the front to tease us, switching sides once in a while. Toshiya's always all smiles, while Kaoru at most winks stoically hah.

The second pause happened between Celebrate Empty Howls and Mitsu to Tsuba, which felt kind of awkward. Overall, I felt like adding one or two Inward Screams would have livened up Kyo's performance slightly, or at least greatly changed it and the atmosphere of the songs.

Mitsu to Tsuba is mostly Die's time to shine. He knows the effect he has on us and he likes all the distortions he can get out of his guitar.

By the way, other than the SE, I actually don't recall seeing much AI-generated footage in the backdrop videos! The SE had images of a hooded stalker of sorts walking toward a bridge at night, a clown, photographs transposed in a circle to piece together probably someone supposed to be a criminal, etc. The music is a bit unmemorizable, but it had a beat that prompted us to clap to it while we waited for Shinya to show up.

Diabolos was amazing! Die was almost mocking us laughing during the segments where we headbang for three consecutive parts, which happens two other times in the song. I don't know if people seemed tired.

Kyo had us shouting "Blue Velvet" a couple of times. But the song evoked a lot in him, it showed. He was really into it.

The backdrop video of Diabolos caught my attention because it seems like when we sing about "Blue Velvet", we're... cooking a pig? There's just a charred pig head on a cut tree trunk, along with other imagery that makes it clear that the pig was cooked. An African tribesman with white lines of makeup all over his face and body is shown afterward. I'm not sure that that is ever what I would have associated with "Blue Velvet".

Oh, it was crazy, the anticipation building up to the "Saa ningen o yamero" part of this song. Kyo just shouted each line with deep breaks in between, to punch each point. Reading the official lyrics again, I'm pretty sure that Kyo completely changed the lyrics before "Saa ningen o yamero", actually, because it involved more stuff like: "You, and my self too, "

I think it might have been in Diabolos that Toshiya copied Kyo's stance with their left hand raised, leaning backward with their side facing us. It must have been during the climax line: " I raise my vacant eyes toward the sky".

Vinushka, again, I've seen Kyo more intense in this song in some live recordings, but it was nice and felt anyway. For some reason, the parallel between Kyo bringing his mic slowly toward his mouth for the "Aaaah... Vinushka" part while the background video shows the nuclear bomb approaching the viewer from above only just struck me. It's the same movement of two points slowly connecting to express impeding doom, that seems calm and quiet before the explosion.

Obscure involved a lot of headbanging, Toshiya spinning, etc. We didn't see much hah.

Ochita koto no aru sora started kind of like before Obscure finished, it took me a while to recognize the melody. Kyo had us sing some parts. I was really looking forward to witnessing this song live for the first time!

The Inferno came and I knew that it was the last song of the main setlist, which happened way too quickly! Sure, there were two long songs, but it felt way too short! Kyo wanted us to participate in the song a few times and he gestured the cut-throat at the very start and a couple of other times throughout the song, but I don't think he headbanged himself.

Kyo threw his mic backward JUST short of Shinya's drum set and walked off the stage before the song had even finished, leaving the other members to complete the last bit of the melody. Die was especially happy, he stayed behind to play moooore distortion, as long as he could, several seconds after everybody else had left the stage. His smile was wide!

The members returned for the encore rather quickly considering that Toshiya's assistant was still tuning his bass hah. Shinya had a sleeveless black shirt with the super big gold necklace in the style that he, Kaoru and Kyo have worn since The Perfume of Sins! Die has cut the sleeves from the black 27-years sweater but he was still wearing mostly the same clothes underneath. His arms are really defined, but Toshiya has totally surpassed him in muscle mass, woah. Buffest member in the band. Kaoru only took off his cape; how the hell does he not sweat! Toshiya had the grey sweater from the tour merch and his pants/boots with his thighs exposed. Kyo hadn't changed.

Although he did it once, or max twice during the main set, Kyo egged us on with "Sapporo!" several times in the encore, asking us over and over whether we could go on, become one, etc.

Oh man, The Devil In Me! I still completely disagree with the band's decision to rely heavily on backtracks, especially for the part "Jinkaku hitei o abite" which literally was recorded by the backup vocalists? What the fuck. But it's so cool and intense to watch Kyo lose it, growling, folding, swinging his mic cord up and down as he pours his self-hate. For the last minute or so of the song, he climbed on his crate, wrapped his red mic cord around his neck without theatrics, and sang with just enough length of the cord to follow his right arm as it curled toward his mouth. Otherwise, if he extended his arm too much, it would have tightened the noose. At the end of the song, while the instrumental continues for quite a while, he slowly sheds, or rather shrugs off one part of the mic cord from him. First, the noose is undone. Then, the cord draped on his left shoulder is shrugged off, which leaves just the one on his right side, which comes off while he stares almost in challenge at the horizon. Shedding a weight from his shoulders, from his existence literally, but not looking 100% relieved whatsoever.

Values of Madness has me headbanging intensely, so I'm not sure what happened, to be honest. Die was smiling, I think. Kyo stayed quiet to demand us to sing sometimes, which he seemed satisfied with. I don't know if it was in this song or another one, but Kyo was stalking his way in front of his crate when he must have stomped on his mic cord, because he stopped abruptly on his track to fix that before a real problem occurred.

In all three of the last songs, it was funny because the members would visit different sides of the stage, then went back to their spot when the song ended, but then another hyper song started and they went right back out there, repeating this dance once more for Eddie hah.

For the last song, Kyo asked us if we could go on, and he seemed taken aback by the response he got from the shimote side on the left, because he was like: "Huh? Are you alive?" So then that part of the crowd finally put their all into the cheer. Kyo turned to the kamite, and it sounded like we were way more at 100% intensity than shimote from the start. He asked us a second time anyway, and then, after a second of quiet on his part, he did his sudden a capella crescendo: "aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHH" with his 'claw' rising progressively, which had us all jumping and cheering. Eddie started and Kyo asked us to sing some parts, sometimes taking off his ear monitor. It wasn't clear on his face whether he was satisfied though, so probably not.

Kyo threw one of his water bottles kind of carelessly into the crowd, letting the cap and straw disconnect and all the water spray randomly onto us. Then, he promptly left. Shinya took a long time to come down from his platform, it seemed. Toshiya and Die had already started throwing picks and water. Die did the fountain/water sprouting move from close to his chest, like we saw him do in one or two videos. Toshiya and him sprayed us so much, they seemed to take a lot of pleasure in it. All three who were left on stage threw picks for a while, and I remember Kaoru stoically waving his index at us, as though teasing or chastising us for some reason hah.

Toshiya left with a smile and a modest bow and hand wave. Kaoru also waved us goodbye after throwing everything he had. Die was last, throwing his towel far but not close to the balcony like he sometimes aims to do. He intently looks at whoever catches his towel, like it means a lot to him to watch their reaction. He was really all smiles, mouthing stuff that resembled "arigatou" to us, and then he waved at us on his final way out.

What a blast, overall! I'm probably forgetting some stuff, but less than if I tried to write this live report any other time after today. I hope they play the setlist with Phenomenon in Sendai!

Oh and at one point, I was like: "Who the hell is filming the show with their cellphone? They played the reminder of the rules so often and so clearly." But it was Fujieda filming Shinya, so I guess that's the video we're getting tomorrow hah.

[carolmunson]

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 

prev | next

[lazybutsmexy]

ghost x reader x soap with a reader who is a military k9 handler 👀👀

yes yes yes YES YES

the moment they saw you walk in with your dog they were hooked

dog is a belgian malonois, lets call her Dolly

look at her, what a bby

Soap knows how crazy difficult that breed can be, so knowing that you are her handler just makes him internally swoon

secretly finds it hot that Dolly follows your every command and how in synch the both of you are navigating obstacles in training or in battle

(a little part of his brain swears he could be just as good following commands for you *wink wink*)

Dolly falls in love with Ghost, hands down

no one knows how or why

everyone's confused, you're the most confused

(he was saving her meat scraps from his meals and sneaking them to her)

when you found out you scolded him up and down and told him not to do that

he was 1: shocked that you were scolding him given the fact he outranked you and 2: kinda sad he wasn't allowed to give Dolly more treats

Anyway

Both Ghost and Soap want to get closer to you but weren't exactly sure how to do that??

they share a braincell, your honor

they came up with the idea to offer themselves for takedown practice

was that smart? yes and no

yes: they spent a lot of time with you and Dolly, everyone else could see that there was a bond of some sort blossoming between the three (four) of you

no: Dolly is a menace, and she bites fucking hard

Soap was very confident squaring up to Dolly while wearing the protective glove

up until the moment Dolly chomped down on the glove and he swore he felt the tips of her canines stretch the inner layer

Ghost didn't believe him until it was his turn, and he felt it too

as they watched Dolly wind down from attack mode into semi-normal dog mode the moment you gave her a toy, they respected you even more

they both realize that the closest way to your heart was to gain Dolly's heart

suddenly, Dolly found so many toys whenever you weren't looking

you know it was their doing, because Dolly seemed to like them even more than before

they were more or less subtle, she was not lol

aside from takedown training, you teach them to give her basic commands

Ghost loves to have her climb onto his shoulders

Soap somehow manages to make her bark "I love you"

you only cry a little bit

Soap has to get used to Dolly giving him kisses

he hasn't had a lot of good experiences with dogs, so you and Ghost have to coach him into it

he does offer to go on morning runs with Dolly so you get another hour of sleep

that's how they bond

Ghost is the ultimate Dog Dad™

at home and during down time, he gives Dolly uppies like a toddler, holding her with one arm under her hind legs while her front legs hold onto his shoulders

she looks like a toddler and she's elated to be so tall

he sometimes also holds her like a baby, with her paws up

you used to do that when she was a puppy so she gets flashbacks and whines

cue all the doggy kisses

big cuddle piles between all of you

Dolly always sleeps at your feet, on the field she sleeps helf on top of your torso

one night Soap tried to sneak a cuddle while sleeping on the floor of a safehouse and ended up cuddling Dolly

she was confused but let him anyway

Ghost took photos for blackmail

when you're all at home - usually yours - she sleeps stretched over all three pairs of feet

unless y'all want more privacy then to the kennel she goes

she's offended every time and will bite holes into Soap and Ghost's socks in revenge

[k-godling]

Welcome to the ACOTAR fandom!

I’d love your takes on the Archeron sisters!

Thank you, I’ve only really been properly in the fandom for a few months, but I HAVE THOUGHTS! This is also a warning that some of my thoughts are ‘hot takes’ in the fandom, but these are my thoughts.

Warning: This is heavy anti-Inner Circle

Nesta Archeron

Ok! We’re gonna start with the BIG one.

TL:DR - I love Nesta’s character. I think she’s complex and layered in a way that few other characters are (and in a way that I like).

Other characters that I think are layered/complex or are going to be include:

• Rhysand - I don’t like his layers, I think that if he stayed the morally greyish character he was in the first book, I would absolutely love him, but I hate the way that all of his bad deeds are excused because ‘I wear a mask’ and ‘it was for the greater good’… like I just want him be quiet sometimes.

• Eris - I can’t wait for his story. Because he also ‘wears a mask’ for the good of his ENTIRE COURT. And I think he is just what Rhys would’ve ended up like if he didn’t have the cushioning of the Velaris and the Inner Circle, but I think this is better. Eris doesn’t push blame or anything like that. I can’t wait to learn more about him.

• Elain - This is gonna be short cuz she has her own section, but I think she’s such a blank slate rn that I think she’s absolutely sizzling underneath. She’s got shit to say.

• Azriel - I need him to blow up and leave. And I know that’s dramatic and over the top but I NEED IT. In my opinion, he’s the most likely to do it, to rebel and get out of the Night Court, within the Inner Circle because he has the ‘ice that (Rhys) can’t thaw’ or something like that. And because we’ve seen Rhys and Az argue until Rhys has to pull rank, and I think that says a lot about how much Az’s personal loyalty effects him, because a lot of the time he listens because Rhys is his brother and High Lord, not because he agrees with him. Also I want to get into the nitty gritty of Azriel feelings (ALL OF THEM)… self hatred, desperation, abandonment issues.

ANYWAYS… I got off topic, but I like Nesta’s character complexity the most because it’s makes me think of how realistic her reaction to things were. Like the IC have been drinking, gambling, whoring about, and all the shit they’re accusing her of doing, FOR 500 YEARS, but she’s been doing it for a few months and suddenly it’s their biggest problem I’m the world. It’s also massively hypocritical she’s only been doing this for a few months, and it took Cassian 10 YEARS to recover after his mother died and he DESTROYED AN ENTIRE VILLAGE. But if Nesta did that she’d be the bad guy and get locked up.

IT WASN’T REHAB and I will stand by that. If locking her up in a building she cannot get out of, with a man she wants nothing to do with, who ends up have sex with her when she’s in a vulnerable enough state to need ‘rehab’, is the Inner Circle’s acceptable version of ‘helping’ the. I don’t even want to know what ‘healthy’ looks like to them, cuz it ain’t them.

Also, she’s not a mean/nasty person. She has a mirroring personality. She’s gives back what she’s given. It’s why the Valkyries love her so much, it’s why she’s friends with Azriel, it’s why she was civil with Eris before Cassian barged into their dance. Similarly, it’s why she doesn’t care for Amren (Amren cares for no one), it’s why she dislikes Mor (who has had a weird obsession with hating her and making her uncomfortable), it’s why she’ll never by in good terms with Rhys (he will never accept her into his ‘family’ without saying something at every moment he can, and she will always retaliate),

This would also effect her relationship with Feyre, because Feyre will put her Court relationships first (she puts their opinion above reason when dealing with her sisters, she only wanted to help Nesta because of how it made her look as High Lady). Another reason to further this point is the fact that they stuck Cassian up there with her, which in my opinion was to get her to soften up to the mating bond and make it easier to control her/her powers (orchestrated by Rhysand), and probably for ‘the better of the court’.

Speaking of Cassian, I hate him as her mate. I don’t think he likes her at all, definitely doesn’t love her, he just wants a mate. And they’re so incompatible thats their mating bond makes no sense. Why would the Cauldron give her a mate that she couldn’t genetically have kids with if the entire point of mates is to make the most powerful offspring, cuz before she changed her anatomy, she couldn’t have held his baby.

That’s where I’m gonna finish the Inner Circle but cuz I’m gonna get heated otherwise.

The only thing left is her with the Dread Trove. First of all, the Dread Trove currently only answers to her, therefore she should have control of how to use it, especially for when she thinks it should and shouldn’t be used. Same with her Made weapons, none of the Inner Circle should have authority or power over where those weapons go, and who should wield them, other than her, especially since no one else can even touch them.

Saying this, I understand Rhys’ rage about Nesta giving the Mask to Bryce. I understand both POVs because both were for what they believed to be right, WITH GOOD REASONS, and not just ‘it’s for the betterment of Prythian’ because both of their theories were possible to happen if she did or didn’t give the Mask.

HOWEVER, Rhys berating her the way that he did to point where someone had to step in and it WASN’T CASSIAN, but someone Nesta doesn’t even know, was sickening. I will never trust either of those two men to actually care about Nesta with sincerity and not with an ulterior motive.

This is where I’m gonna stop, because this is gonna end up to be long post.

Feyre Archeron

I’m gonna try make this as simple as possible.

• ACOTAR - I liked her

• ACOMAF - I was iffy about her

• ACOWAR - I hated her

• ACOFAS - I didn’t care for her

• ACOSF - I hated her

Just to be clear, I’m highly critical of Feyre, because the writing of her is inconsistent and contradictory, and I don’t think that it’s going to change.

Firstly, she has a panic attack and loses control when being locked up for ‘her own safety’, but then threatens to tie up and drag Nesta to the HoW if she refused? And that’s alright?

Let’s not forget that’s she’s a WAR CRIMINAL!!! The fact that she did everything she did in the Spring Court to get back at Tamlin, but it directly affected everyone in the Court EXCEPT FOR Tamlin (but it did later). And the fact that the Inner Circle was celebrating her for it.

PEOPLE LOST THEIR HOMES, THEIR BUSINESSES, THEIR LIVES. LITERALLY EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF HER. This is literally most of the reason that I cannot physically like her as a character. Because, at the end of the day, it’s doesn’t matter if ‘it was up to Tamlin’s decisions’ because she still caused it. That blood would still be on HER hands.

Also, HOT TAKE INCOMING, she shouldn’t be High Lady. She literally found out that far couldn’t lie within the same year/year and a half that she became High Lady. SHE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT FAE. She basically JUST learned how to read ffs. And suddenly people who are over 500 years older have to listen to her orders when she knows nothing that shes talking about (specifically in reference to when she tells Azriel to pull out his spies and stop spying on Briallyn and he disagrees).

And how the Inner Circle expect the Court of Nightmares to respect her when the first time they’re introduced to her, she literally just know as Rhysand’s Whore, and gave him a lap dance, like I wouldn’t respect you either. Same goes for the people Under the Mountain, she was literally doing the same thing and suddenly they have to respect her cuz she’s in a position of ‘power’ (which I don’t believe is real btw, I think she’s only High Lady because Rhys gave her the title).

ALSO, I hate that everyone says she freed the Fae from Amarantha. No she didn’t, Tamlin did. Feyre bargained that if she finished the trials, or solved the riddle, it would free TAMLIN AND THE SPRING COURT, not everyone else. The only reason everyone else was free was because TAMLIN KILLED AMARANTHA.

(Also the fact that both her and Rhysand are still resentful of Tamlin even though he’s literally the entire reason they’re both still alive is fucking hilarious to me.)

I’ve already made the comments I wanted to make on her relationship with Nesta, and I can’t comment on her relationship with Elain because we haven’t seen enough of it on-page.

In my opinion, ACOTAR Feyre would absolutely hate ACOSF Feyre. What do you mean you have 5 houses? What do you mean you rule a court where 2/3’s of it are oppressed and girls’ virginities get sold to highest bidder and they get permanently mutilated, and you’ve done nothing but wear their wings like a costume? You’ve done nothing but basically encourage Hewn City to continue to brutalise their wives and daughters, and the cycle will never stop.

Then you can’t understand when people don’t want to live in your ‘perfect city’ that’s built in the backs of your other citizens, or work for you, when you do nothing for people who actually need it.

Also, I hate that she’s nosy af, and people just give her information, it politically makes no sense.

e.g. Eris spilling his guts about the night Lucien left Autumn, none of Feyre’s business because she obviously she doesn’t care about Lucien (but I’m not gonna get into that)

e.g. There was no need for Rhys to give Feyre Azriel’s backstory about his father and brothers, it makes no sense. Azriel is literally the most secretive person in the Night Court, I don’t think he’d just want you to spill his life story to someone who’s effectively a stranger, it doesn’t matter who you are.

e.g. Hiding Lucien’s real father from him and Helion, like wtf is going through your head, because now if they find out, there’s a possibility that the Night Court lose two allies, Day (Helion) and Autumn (Eris). Never mind Azriel and a blood duel, this damn secret is bad for you stupid political balance, but it’s not gonna go that way cuz SJM is so far up the Inner Circle’s asses, I’m surprised she’s not popping out the other end.

I’m gonna end this part here cuz it’s getting me heated and I don’t want to feel bad.

Elain Archeron

Ok, this part is going to be significantly lighter because I don’t have a lot of thoughts, but I will share some headcanons.

The reason this won’t be long is because I’m relatively ambivalent to canon Elain because I haven’t seen enough of her and her personality yet to have an informed opinion.

My opinion on the ship war thing is just that I don’t think she should even have a romantic relationship yet. I think she needs to find a place for herself in the world now that she’s fae, BEFORE she finds a significant other, because the other two sisters did it the other way and it’s now getting boring.

BUT, if I had to pick someone for her to be with, it would be Lucien, due to the fact that it’s impossible for me to see her with Azriel for the rest of her fae life, it makes no sense to me.

However, to plug any possible sort of future works I might do, I have crack ships of the Vanserras and the Archerons, but it’s not what you think.

I have a mini guilty pleasure ship of Eris x Elain, and Lucien x Nesta (but it has to be in the same universe, if you get what I mean)

With Elain x Eris, it’s because I have the theory that Elain is sizzling on the inside and is going to explode on the Inner Circle. Within this theory, I headcanon Elain to be sarcastically snarky (like Dorian/Lysandra from ToG) and can give Eris some his attitude back in playful way (which is a dynamic I love). And she gets violent when she needs to against people who try to hurt Eris, like when he NEEDS TO KILL BERON.

Also, I don’t think she’d be as sidelined in Autumn as she is in Night, because Eris takes care of the ENTIRE court, she could go around and ask for and give advice on how to grow certain flowers or crops because they’ll be a lot more farmers growing their own crops instead of importing them.

Also, in my opinion, Autumn Court is the most human court as of right now, which I think she would find comfort in, and it borders the Spring Court which I think she would love to visit.

Also in this headcanon, I think that she’d play a large part in Tamlin’s recovery and the revival of the Spring Court, which would be her path to possibly becoming a High Lady, of Spring if Tamlin abdicates or Autumn with Eris, if she would want either of these possibilities.

Lucien x Nesta should be obvious, I believe that SJM should have kept them mates. They would bounce off of each other well, he’d actually love her how she deserves to be loved, he’d probably act out whatever book scenes she’d want him to.

Anyways, those are my thought on the Archeron Sister - plus a few more tangents (sorry about that).

Also, I have an ACOTAR story planned, but it basically completely rewrites most canon events, so it’s an AU instead of a fanficion. Hints for it include azriel x oc, eris main character, Lucien main character, the dusk court, dragons, starborne power.

HOWEVER, in this AU, the other series will not exist. No Throne of Glass, no Crescent City. There will definitely be themes and passages used from those series, and names will be dropped (e.g. Ashryver) but it has nothing to do with this character, like Aelin won’t be mentioned at all as the Aelin from Throne of Glass.

Let me know if you want to see it xx

– Serenity 🤍

[jessmaybank]

My best friends brother series; Part 3 - It all comes crashing down

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Kook reader.

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: it all falls apart at Wards charity event.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, mentions of sex, angst.

Authors Note: Thank you for all the love I have received from this series!! There will be more parts to this, so enjoy :) btw this is angsty.

A week had past since you slept with Rafe, and you had spent the time reflecting on your shitty actions. You had betrayed your best friend, and there was no justifying your actions now. There was no going back.

What hurt you the most was the lack of aftercare from Rafe. He just walked away like you were nothing. The worst part though, was that you were naive enough to think it would go down differently. You only had yourself to blame.

You spent the week doing all you could to avoid Rafe, but that would end today. Ward was throwing a charity event at the golf course to help his image. To your dismay, Sarah would not take no for an answer when she asked you to come.

So, there you stood, at the entrance to the golf club, mentally begging your heart palpitations to stop. Here goes nothing.

You make a beeline straight to the bar when you enter, needing something to take the edge off. You text Sarah that your at the bar and you tell her to meet you here.

You were about to open your mouth to tell the bartender your order, when a male voice beats you to it.

“She’ll have a vodka soda, no ice. Beer for me please”

You already knew it was Rafe, but you turned your head for confirmation anyway. He was wearing a white collared shirt and Grey trousers, with a sweater draped around his shoulders, his kook-like style on full display.

Your eyebrows furrow as your shoot him a look, one that says how the hell do you know my drink order?

“You’ve been ordering the same drink for years Y/N. I’m observant” he says.

His eyes trail up and down your figure as he studies you, admiring just how good you look in your white tennis skirt, your thighs on display for him. It took everything in him not to pick you up, throw you on top of the bar and wrap those tanned thighs around his waist.

Your agitation was growing by the second. He could pay attention enough to learn your favourite drink, but not enough to catch on to your anger towards him.

“Yeah, well, how about you observe me walking away from you, asshole” you say, turning around to get away from him.

Rafe grabs your arm, forcing you to stay put.

“Let go of me”

“What’s your problem?” He asks, a confused look splattered on his face.

“Your my problem, Rafe. I’m not doing this right now” you spit.

You wanted to yell at him, you wanted to ask how he could just fuck you like he did and then leave without a word. But you had too much pride for that.

The bartender puts your drinks down, and you take the opportunity to grab your liquid courage and retreat, making your way outside onto the course.

Eventually you find Sarah, and you put on your best poker face on to cover your bad mood, which fortunately she doesn’t question. After a couple drinks, you both decide to play some golf.

Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you, his blue orbs filled with desire as he watches you play, paying attention to the way your skirt rises every time you take a shot. You were sticking your ass out just to tease him, and holy shit was it working.

He could feel his trousers tighten as he watched you run a hand through your hair, the summer heat getting to you. Your skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat as you took another shot, your cleavage on full display as you bent down to get another ball.

Watching the scene before him made all the anger towards you leave his body. How could he be mad when you looked like that?

Only feelings of confusion were left, he had no idea why you were so angry, and he was eager to find out.

You left Sarah on the course to use the bathroom. You wash your hands and fix your lipgloss in the mirror before heading back out. You turn the corner in the hallway, and see Rafe walking towards you.

You try to turn around and walk the other way, but he stops you, grabbing your arm and pinning you against the wall, before moving his hands to either side of your head, completely cornering you.

“Leave me alone” you protest, rolling your eyes as a gesture of resistance to his dominant action.

“Your a brat, you know that” he tuts, moving his left hand to grab your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.

“And a tease” he says lowly in your ear, the raspiness in his voice making you clench your thighs together. You were not going to submit to him, not this time.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, and Rafes jaw clenches, a serious tone now plastered on his face.

He wraps his hand round your throat, the cold metal of his rings digging into your neck.

“Drop the attitude” he says, the coldness in his words making a shiver run down your spine.

“Why? So you can fuck me again, and leave me there, naked in your fucking kitchen, like I mean nothing to you?”

The moment the words leave your plump red lips, his hand drops from your throat, his face softening as he scans your features. You were full of hurt, and he could see it.

“That’s why your angry? Y/N I-“

“I’m not angry at you Rafe, I’m angry at myself. It’s my mistake for thinking it would be different with me” you say, a pitiful smile spread across your face as you expose your vulnerable state to him.

“Of course it’s different” he says, his right hand moving from the side of your head to your cheek, cupping your soft skin.

He gave you a look that said please, please believe me. But you didn’t.

Before you could bat his hand away, your eyes flicker to a figure watching you both at the end of the hallway.

Sarah.

Being best friends with Sarah for years, you knew her like the back of your hand. She was going to kill you.

“Shit” you mutter, pushing Rafe away from you. He’s confused at first, but when he follows your eyesight and sees his sister, his eyes widen.

“I knew it! This is why you’ve been acting off these past couple weeks? Your fucking my brother?”

“Sarah, I can explain-“

“Don’t” she snaps, before storming off.

You chased after her into the car park, but she drove off before you got a chance to speak to her.

Tears streamed down your face as you plopped yourself onto the pavement, dialling Sarah’s number. The depressing sound of the ringer filling your ears as she ignores your calls.

After about 5 minutes, you decide to pull yourself together, and do what you do best, which is taking full advantage of an open bar.

Each sip of the vodka tasted better than the last, the burning sensation in your throat beginning to fade as you become number and number.

Rafe noticed your puffy eyes and red cheeks from across the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to approach you. He knew this was his fault, there was nothing he could say to fix it.

Once you decided you were drunk enough, you stumbled your way through the crowds of people, wanting to go home.

“Y/N, how much have you had to drink?” A male voice says, and you realise you accidentally walked into Rafe.

You ignore him, trying to push past his figure. Unfortunately, he was much stronger than you.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, he was picking you up bridal style and carrying you into the car park.

“What are you doing” you slur.

“I’m taking you home”

Too intoxicated to fight back, you let him put you down and guide you into his passenger seat, doing your seatbelt up for you and shutting the door before walking round to the drivers seat.

The ride home was silent, your head resting on the window as you ponder the dramatic events that occurred tonight.

Rafe was racking his brain for the right thing to say, his mouth opening and closing constantly like a gulping fish. Before he could decide on a sentence, we arrived at your house.

You undo your seatbelt as he drives us up the gravel driveway, eager to get out as soon as possible.

“I know this is my fault” Rafe starts, his finger tapping erratically on his leg to try and calm his nerves.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to make this right Y/N, I swear-“

“Right?” You chuckle, the coldness behind you eyes unmissable.

“All you do is hurt people Rafe. You’ve hurt me” you say quietly, staring at the windscreen infront of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Y/N, please-“

The slamming of the car door interrupts his pathetic attempt at an apology, and you run towards your house. Your eyes well up for the second time tonight as you rummage in your purse for your keys, the tears and alcohol together making your vision blurry.

Finally, you scramble through the door, slamming it shut before putting your back against it. You slide down until your sitting on the cold marble floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

Rafe punched his steering wheel over and over, his vision blurry as his anger takes over him. His frustration is evident as he runs his hands through his hair, a string of curse words leaving his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he rambles, before turning the key in the ignition and driving off into the early evening fog.

————————————————————————-

Tags: @rootbeerfaygo @kys4-20

[bristishbaddiesxox]

Still The One H.S.

.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　. ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ˚ 　

One shot!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · . Summary : Mary goes out one night with her girlfriends to their local college bar when she runs into her now ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles. Alone on the balcony they talk about what went wrong and confess their true feelings for one another

-> 5.3k words

Warnings : this story is entirely fictional and contains Adult language, sexual scenes (smut), make up sex, intense arguments, drinking, smoking, etc... please read at your own risk

author's note: This one is long asf. I really hope you guys enjoy this ! this is my first one shot posted on here. This also is the first time I've published smut so... beware it might be super bad.

Tonight was the night everyone went out to the bars.Mary spent all her time doing her hair and makeup. Being a senior in college came with many challenges and the nights out with her girlfriends helped carried her through the harsh part of college. Being in pre-med came with many trials of difficult class curriculums. She was constantly stressing herself out, limiting nights out and skipping meals. She only just prayed that it'll all be worth it at the end. And now that graduation was around the corner, she finally could celebrate.

Ella had decided that they would go to a bar tonight. It'd be one of the last times that they would all be able to go to their college bar together before graduating. They were to all finally start on of the most important part of their lives and that was starting their careers that they spent the last four years working towards.

" I'm going to miss this so much," Ella sighed out while gluing on her lashes.

" I know, partying and being stupid drunk bitches," Mary replies back.

Ella and Mary had so many late night memories together. Ella was Mary's friend since freshman year. She was Mary's roommate since first semester of freshman year. They had been by each other's side all of the four years of college. Mary couldn't imagine what her four years would have been without Ella-- her twin-- her bestfriend.

" You know, what if he's there tonight?"

Mary looks up at Ella and shoots her a confused look, " What if who's there tonight?"

" You know, Harry. What if Harry is there tonight?" Ella shrugs beginning to put lipstick on.

Mary rolls her eyes, " Then he's there. It won't change anything."

Harry was Mary's now ex boyfriend. They had broken up over the summer and hadn't seen or spoken to each other since then. Occasionally, She'd see him on campus and avoid him. But overall, Mary went to the extent to keep Harry out of sight and out of mind. She couldn't sit hung up about their now past relationship.

" Would you ever get back together with him if time was right and you guys were on good terms?" Ella asks while taking a sip of her seltzer.

Mary shook her head, " I don't think so. I've gotten over it and he's for sure over it. I've been seen him with this new girl anyways. We're not going back."

Ella just slowly nodded. Mary could tell Ella didn't believe her but decided on ignoring her anyways.

When Ella and Mary had arrived to the bar, they met up with a couple of their other girlfriends who also had brought their boyfriends. They waited outside the line of the bar squealing and shouting to one another about how great the night was going to be. Mary was wearing a black tube top and denim shorts. She let her dark brown hair fall over her shoulders and layered gold jewelry around her neck. As they waited to enter the bar, all Mary could think about was what if Harry was here? Harry and her had always went to the bar together. She would remember how they would end the night at his place having the most drunken yet steamiest sex. Now he's probably doing everything they did with someone new.

The bouncer lets them in and immediately they make their way to the bar. First round was on Maddie's Boyfriend who had bought shots for the whole group.

" For my future doctor and wife, Maddie!" He cheers.

Everyone lifts their shot glass up and cheers on Maddie for getting in to med school.

Mary waves down a bartender and asks for another round of shots for her group. She also demanded for a Vodka Redbull . Ella then calls for them to hit the dance floor and dance to the music being played by the DJ. Mary hadn't had this much fun in so long. She was having time to enjoy herself and celebrate finally finishing her degree. Her arm was wrapped around her best friend Ella as they danced in the crowd. The whole night they shared laughs and took videos and pictures of each other being plastered drunk. Together they ran laps around the bar talking to different guys who had offered to buy them a shot . Mary came to realize how fun it was to be single. She could do whatever she wanted without having to worry or think about anyone else. All she had was herself to enjoy the night away.

Mary and Ella had been playing with each other and these two guys that they found at the bar. Mary could barely keep her balance but she still wanted to carry through the night. Her body was numb and her head hung dizzy. As she stumbled back she felt a cold drink splash onto her back and a glass hit the ground. Her eyes widen to her surprise and she quickly whipped around.

" Oh my god, I'm so sorry!!" She cried out immediately grabbing napkins from the counter. She was too busy trying to clean up this man black shirt that she didn't even realize who it was.

" I'll buy you a new shirt, I'm sorry again," she apologizes.

His hand then takes hers. It was warm and soft.

" Don't worry about it Mary," a familiar english voice spoke.

That's when her eyes widened and her eyes met his—his green emerald eyes. It felt almost like a reel of everything in the past rushing into her as she stood there frozen. It was him. It was Harry. She felt the whole room fall silent and herself grow small while staring up at him. He had nothing but a soft smile while looking down at her. She blinks back to reality and takes a step back. He had still been holding her hand in his while she pulled it back to herself.

" I-um. I gotta go," was all she said while turning around and pushing past people.

She found her way back to Ella who was laughing along with the two guys they were hanging out with. Ella noticed how frantic and anxious Mary had became as Mary began digging in her purse. She reassured the guys before walking to her friend who clearly wasn't okay.

" Mary are you okay?" She says putting an arm on Mary's shoulder.

Mary shook her head 'yes'.

" I just saw Harry," she blurts.

Ella's eyes widen and her mouth drops. She almost lets out this historical laugh. It was for sure that Harry would be at this bar. Harry had gone here on multiple occasions even when Him and Mary were together. But she still felt for her friend who was still suffering a broken-heart from their relationship. She recalled the nights where Mary wouldn't come out her room and how quiet and depressed she was over their breakup. It was so many stages of heartbreak she wished to never see her friend suffer in again.

" Mary, we can leave if you want," Ella softly said as she was rubbing circles around Mary's back.

" No, I'm coming back. I just need air. And then I'm coming back and we're going to go back and dance," Mary slurred her words while picking up her purse.

"Okay, I'll come with you," Ella said going to reach for her bag. But Mary stops her.

" No! Just stay here. I need a minute alone and I'll be right back," Mary says shouting through the music and crowd.

Ella nods hesitantly. She wasn't sure if she can trust Mary being alone. Especially after just watching her down a Martini.

" I'll be back, I promise." She says pulling Ella into a hug.

Mary pushes her way through the crowd and climbs up a couple steps to head the balconies on the second floor. Once opening the door she is met with the breeze that brushed upon her. She finally could breathe. She walks over to the ledge to look over the city. Boston was so beautiful at night. She begins to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. But to her disappointment, she must have forgot her lighter back at her place.

" Fuck," she hisses to herself.

She goes digging in her purse once again. She didn't want to believe she left the lighter because she really just wanted to smoke. The night had gotten even more chaotic than she thought it would have.

" Thought you don't smoke," She hears the familiar voice speak again.

She stops digging in her purse. While rolling her eyes to herself she turns to face him once again. He was standing there, smoking a cigarette himself.

" I don't," she snaps.

He laughs as he makes his way over to her. She takes a step away to further the distance between them.

" Mary," He calls.

She doesn't look at him. Instead, she kept her gaze starting out into the city. Looking at him pained her. She remembered everything like it was yesterday. The day she watched his back turn and the door shut behind him. And he never came back.

" I'll light you one. It's just a small favor don't take it personally," he says handing her his lighter.

She looks down at his hand to see it was her old lighter. It had the initials H.S. On it. She wrote it on there for him. She sighs out and takes the lighter out of his hands. She held the cigarette in between her lips and begins to light it. And there she took the longest drag she could out of it.

She was in a much better mood now that she can relax and calm her nerves. Normally, she didn't smoke on a daily basis. She had quit after high school. She felt that she needed to better herself. But time after time she would smoke one just to settle her nerves. It would usually be after drinking all night which wasn't a regular occurrence.

" So, congratulations. I just want to say I'm proud of you," he says leaning over the rail looking over at her.

She kept her arms crossed and just shrugged instead of answering to his comment. Giving in would make her feel vulnerable— like she'd had given up on all the platforms she built for herself after she had healed from their past.

Harry understood it. He knew she was angry. He also knew how stubborn Mary was.

" Mary," he calls again.

She grumbled out loud turning over to him taking another drag while seeing the sight of her ex boyfriend.

" Stop, okay? Just finish your cigarette and carry on with the night," she barks.

He still approached her. Something inside his chest was burning and he was dying to let out whatever tension he had within himself. If he didn't tell her now he knew he would regret it like he did that night they broke up. He knew he messed up. He was the one to walk away and left her that night when he should have stayed and tried to work things out. He was always the one to a put up a fight and yet that night he felt short. And because of that, he dealt with days and months of not seeing her, touching her. He missed her more than anything and seeing her at the bar, hearing her say his name, he felt everything he had for her wash over him.

" Mary I miss you," he blurts.

She just shook her head staring ahead of of herself. She was still mad, he knew that. But now more than ever he wanted to fix things.

He walks over to her and grabs her shoulders whipping her around to face him. Her eyes widen and she threw her hands up and pushed him back from her. He hasn't seen her this physical.

" Don't fucking touch me Harry. You had your chance, now it's over. We're ov--"

" Don't--" he interrupts.

" Don't say that, please," his voice cracks.

" Then what do you want Harry? You left me. You were the one to call things off and now you're saying you miss me?" She scoffs before finishing off her cigarette. She tosses it to the ground and crushes it with her shoe.

" I know. I know I fucked up. I was drunk. I was stupid. I woke up the next day and realized how much I fucked up."

She doesn't say anything back. She was hugging herself as she bit her lip. And then she turned to face him as her eyes fell.

" Then why didn't come back?" was all she let out while staring at him waiting for an answer.

Harry knew he let his pride get the best of him. He knew in the end, he wanted to be with Mary more than anything yet he didn't go back because he was scared. He was scared she wouldn't take him back. And now it's been 6 months and he is far now too late to beg.

" I just thought you never wanted to see me again... like how you shouted it at me that night," he quietly answered.

They stood in silence letting the breeze brush past them. Mary just shook her head to herself, remembering the night it all ended: .　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　

Harry had came in the apartment drunk after Mary had texted him that she was tired of his bullshit. Harry was apart of a frat and made little to no time for her. It was exam week and she and him had barely spoken because she would spend all her time studying while he spent nights out partying. She wanted to support Harry but there were too many times he left her in the dark or did things that made her question her trust with him. It was until she opened her snapchat. She saw on one of his friends videos that a girl had approached Harry and her arm was around him. It made her even more furious because it was Katie Woods. Not only was she apart of the sister frat but she was the bombshell of the school. Mary only felt inferior to her whenever she saw her talk to Harry. Katie always found a way to talk to Harry and push Mary out.

" Mary, it was nothing okay? She was just there at the party and we only talked for 30 seconds it wasn't anything serious," He slurs his words.

Mary had her arms folded as she stared at Harry in disbelief. She couldn't believe the first thing he didn't do was apologize.

" You know what, I'm done. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of you invalidating me about how she's all over you! And when there is a video of her arms wrapped around you, and you still want to deny it all!"

" Mary, I don't know how else to tell you that it's nothing. You're my girlfriend, you're the one I come home to every night, you're the one I want to be with," He sighs out reach his hands out to pull Mary close to him.

Instead, she just pushed his hands back and stood back. Her eyes were heavy with dark circles from hours of studying and staring at her laptop. Her hair was clipped up yet small strands hung loose. She was still in her pajamas from the previous night.

She turned and walked away with disappointment in her sigh. Where were they in their relationship? They were constantly arguing, he was falling short not coming to see her when she really wanted to. And when she went to go out and eat he was always late. What happened to them? She wanted to know where did everything start to fall apart?

" You don't believe me," he scoffs turning to face the other way threw his hands up to cup the back of his head.

" We've been together for nearly 3 years now, what makes you not trust me now?" He snaps.

Mary knew Harry was drunk but never has she ever seen him angry while drunk. Harry didn't often get angry around her. He always was composed and when they did argue he never rose his voice. But she can sense with this argument he was a lot more angrier then he ever had been.

" You never answer my calls," she says quietly. She felt like passing out.

" I'm not constantly sitting around. I don't have my phone and my laptop on me like you do at all times."

And this time, Mary too was losing patience. It takes one simple thing to ruin it all and she let Harry do multiple.

" You know what Harry, fuck you. Go back to your frat and this time you can go back without a girlfriend!" She barks.

That's when Harry's eyes widen at her response. He was very much even more provoked than he initially was. And Mary wanted to keep pushing him. She was tired of being the one who felt hurt, neglected, and always having to forgive Harry for his mistakes.

" I'm sick of this. You never even text to check on me. You give me the most simple dry responses. I'm so fucking stressed and tired and my boyfriend, someone I want to just simply acknowledge me can't because he doesn't want to take a simple 5 minute break to text his long-term girlfriend." She hissed.

" You know what, I'm sick of you always blaming me. It's always my fault when things don't go your fucking way Mary. It's not like I do this all the damn time. Most days, I'm with you! I do everything with you and I. always. choose. you." He shouted back.

Her hands were clenching her hair as if she were about to go insane. She was just going to go in circles with Harry because he was drunk and was more angry than he could think at the moment.

" You know what. Get out." She says pointing at the door.

" What?" He says tilting his head looking at her in disbelief.

" Get. out. I don't want to see you tonight." She grits through her teeth at him.

" No, I'm not fucking leaving," He protests.

" Harry I can't do this right now! you're fucking drunk, you reek of alcohol!"

" Holy shit Mary, fine you don't want to see me then that's fine," he says throwing his hands up in defeat and walking out the door.

As she hears his foot steps fade she hears a buzz. It was his phone that was on her dresser. She walks over to pick it up so that she can give him his phone. When the screen lit up it showed her the contact. It read Katie. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. She felt her eyes water and tears fall down her cheeks. Never in a million years did she suspect that Harry would cheat on her. But the messages she read proved her otherwise.

Katie: Where did you go?

Katie: She doesn't have to know.

Harry walks back into the room mid sentence about to grab his phone until he saw Mary's face.

" Babe, wh- what happened?" he says approaching her.

She throws his phone at him and begins shoving him out of her room.

" Get the fuck out. I can't believe you right now!" she cries out through her tears.

" Mary! Please calm down what the fuck happened?" He says picking up his phone as he held his hand out for her to stop.

" She's fucking text you? Asking where you are? What is it that I don't have to know Harry? "

Harry looks down dumbfounded by the messages. He knew what the text were for but Mary had already taken them personally and was far more angry than she already was.

" Mary, it's not what you think," he says trying to calm her down but she wouldn't budge.

" No, don't fucking touch me. Get the fuck out Harry."

She was now repeatedly pushing him to the door.

" Mary-"

" Get out Harry! I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you or see you ever again," she sobbed.

" You know what. fine! You won't see me again. We're done." he shouted at her before simply turning and walked out the door.

Mary just slumped to the ground and sobbed. Harry was gone. Harry left. She didn't know what to do. she didn't know what to feel. Her body was riddled with so many emotions that all she could do was cry out her pain.

 After that night, Harry didn't call nor text her. She starred at her phone endlessly. She wanted to say something but in reality she shouldn't be pushing for Harry to reach out to her. Maybe he really meant what he said to her that night. And for days after this she just had to push through and heal from all of that night... .　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 

 Mary closed her eye to the thought of that night. That night was one of the biggest fights they had ever had. She remembered the days that came after it. She had a hard time sleeping and eating. She struggled to get through her classes. She hated being anywhere but her bedroom where she could hide away and sob her feelings out.

Harry recalled the days after the fight too. Each time he walked passed her building trying to build to courage to walk up and say he was sorry. But he couldn't. He didn't believe he could after what he did to her. He knew he treated her so unfairly. And that was apart of what held him back -- his guilt.

" I'm sorry," he suddenly blurts.

" I'm sorry for being so fucking stupid. You were going through a lot and I just downplayed it. I took everything for granted when I shouldn't have. I-I blew it. I ruined it all because I was being selfish," he says as he was now closer to her than he initially was.

She didn't back away, she just looked up at him.

" It's been six months and you're still the one," he continued.

" You're the one--"

He was suddenly cut off by Marys hands pulling his face down to kiss him. His hands naturally go to cup her cheeks as he deepened their kiss. It was as if it's been years and he had been craving to feel her lips again. He kissed her hungrily, tasting every bit of her that he had missed. And when they pulled away, he could see the tears in her eyes.

" And I should have told you I wanted you back," she says beginning to cry.

Harry didn't hesitate to pull her into his embrace. She cried into his chest while his chin rested on the top of her head. He held her tight, so tight that she wouldn't be able to push herself away. Harry wasn't going to lose her again. He wasn't going to let her leave. This night and from this day forward, he was going to put up a fight. Because in the end, he couldn't be without Mary. She was the love of his life.

Harry had brought Mary back to his place since he had moved out of his previous apartment with his frat roommates. He now had lived alone. Mary trailed behind him with their hands still interlocked. He couldn't help but to smile to himself. Mary smelled of perfume and alcohol but to him he was happy that she was out and enjoying herself. She looked a lot happier.

" So this is my flat. It's just me who lives here," He says holding his arm out to gesture to his living room.

Mary laughed, " I like it, it's so you."

There was a moment of silence while he stood grinning over at Mary. She was finally at his place. She was finally talking to him. He just had to get her back into his life.

" And I just need you in it," He smirks, pulling Mary into a long, passionate deep kiss.

Her arms go to wrap around his neck as she kissed him back. Slowly, they step into his bedroom not breaking their kiss. She dropped her bag on the ground. He tossed his coat to the side. She quickly took off her coat and he pulled the hair tie that held her hair up gently out. Soon they were back all over each other. Mary hadn't felt Harry's hands all over her in so long that she was getting slightly impatient. She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Harry was eyeing the black sheer lacy bra that she had on.

He picked her up and planted her onto of his dresser, leaving wet soft kisses from her neck, trialing down right above her most sensitive part. His hands pull the denim shorts down and he felt himself twitch the lacy black thong she had on. She sat there with her legs slightly parted, eyeing Harry as she waited for his next move.

He then stood in between her legs, and planted his lips onto hers as his hand went down to rub the thin cloth that separated her most vulnerable spot and his fingers. She lets out a deep moan into their kiss as Harry let his fingers play with her. For a second, she had to moan into the crevices of his neck as her hand went down to rub against his now harden bulge. He then wiggled his fingers in between her thong and let them slip into her, causing her to dip her head into his neck again and let out a cry. He went slowly in and out, kissing her on her neck, kissing her on her forehead and lips.

Mary can feel herself edge closer. She was going insane with how much she wanted Harry to ruin her. She so horny that she felt that she needed more than just his fingers inside of her. She wanted more. She wanted to be ruined with her makeup smeared everywhere. Inside her head she knew that no one else could make her feel the way Harry made her feel.

" Harry please," She's breathes.

" Please what baby?" He says while looking down at her while increasing the way his fingers flowed in and out of her.

" Please fuck me!" She cries out as her hands go to clutch onto his shoulder.

" Tell me how, how do you like it baby?" He smirks down at her as his fingers were nearly soaked at how wet she was for him.

" Like, like how you would bend me over and pound into me, I want- I want you to fuck me hard Harry," she struggles to say as she was feeling her body grow weak to his touch.

Harry pulled his fingers out and pulled her in for another kiss while unclipping her bra and tossing it to the ground. He eyes her first while watching how her hair fell right on top of her breast and hardened nipples. He then picked her up from the dresser and threw he onto his bed. He slowly goes to pull her lacy thong down exposing all of her to him. He crawls on top of her, beginning with a long passionate kiss to her lips and then trailing all the way down to her cl!t. He began to paint her with his tongue. To him, she tasted sweet like honey, sweet and sour like oranges. Mary felt this euphoric feeling travel up her as her hands were buried in his curly locks.

" Yes Harry! Just like that!" She moans out.

Harry pulls away, now unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to his ankles. He kicks them off before pulling down his boxers to reveal and long hardened cock.

He climbs over Mary and aligns himself at her entrance. And places a couple more kisses on her lips while rubbing the tip of his length in between her folds. And that's when he pushes himself in and Mary lets out a loud moan. Slowly he goes in and out, letting her adjust to him. They both were panting, breathing out hot breathes as he thrusted into her. Her hands were clenching his back as his strokes were slow but went in deep. Each thrust, she felt this high that made her bite her lip and moan out each time. Something that she never forgot about Harry was that his sex was pure ecstasy. She was feeling all kinds of highs whenever he fucked her.

Harry didn't quicken his pace and her eyes rolled back as she whimpered. He kept it slow and intimate all while planting long firm kisses on her lips and feeling the vibrations of her moans travel through him. Mary meant the most to him and he wanted her to feel that. Each thrust he poured all his love for Mary. Seeing her unveiled and watching her unfold under him, it made him feel at the top of the world. His hand rested on her hips when ever he would thrust harder just to hit the right spot. She was a moaning mess and he thought it was the hottest thing.

Together they were going to reach their highs. Her legs began to convulse and she was now shaking underneath him. He was letting out deep groans and raspy moans as he began to pound into her. The bed began to bang against the wall and Mary was letting out a high pitched whimper.

" Fuck, I'm going to cum," Harry growls

And once it finally hit, he felt himself collapse onto of her, slowly and sloppily thrusting into her. He kissed her and brushed her hair back as she came down for her high. He held her close until her body relaxed. And when they finally settled, he pulled out and got out of the bed to go to the bathroom.

Mary was still slumped and recovering from the intensity of her orgasm. But she watched Harry as he cleaned up and grabbed a towel. When he came back, he helped her wipe herself before getting back into the bed with her and pulling her to lay against his chest.

They laid in silence against each other as his hands brushed through her hair. He smiled at how messy it still was from their night of fun.

" Mary?" He called out.

" Mm," was all she replied back.

" That night Katie Texted, she texted me about her friend who she didn't want know that she was out that night. I was initially was suppose to give her and Damien a ride, they had been seeing each other. But I got the text and rushed over to you instead."

Mary looked at him, almost with guilt in her eyes. She knew she should have listened to Harry that night. They both should have listened to each other.

" But it doesn't matter, I didn't listen to what you had to say and how you felt. I was a shitty boyfriend and it was no wonder you thought that after the video. But just know Mary... I love you and I'd never do that to you."

She smiled and pulls him down to give him a kiss. She still loved Harry all this time. Even if she kept denying it she knew deep down she wouldn't have been able to push Harry away again.

" I quit the frat, I've focused on school, I got this internship at a publishing firm. I've changed Mary believe me. I changed in hopes that I'd see you and you'd come back..." he trails

Her hand goes to cup his cheek and leans in to peck his lips.

" We'll just have to start over and work things out," she simply replied.

He smiles and plants another kiss on her lips. They continued to make out, their hands cupping each other's cheeks.

" We going for round two?" she asks in between their kiss.

Harry pulls away laughing while putting her to have her sit on his lap.

" Will you be able to walk tomorrow?" He says interlocking their hands.

" I have nothing to do tomorrow, we can stay in bed all day," She grins.

Without hesitation he throws her down back on the bed and began to shower her with kisses.

" I'll be more gentle this time." he smirks. 

From then on, the past was past. Living is to forget. Being able to forget is to learn. Harry and Mary took time to understand each other more and chose their priorities for one another. In the end, Harry was more than happy to be able to call Mary his girlfriend once again. 

[sparkle-fiend]

Inspired by this post by @kedreeva (I’m not sure I quite did the original prompt justice, but hopefully some of the emotion comes across.)

***

It’s been a while since Steve attended a high school party. It feels weird to go to one now, a year out from his own graduation, but Robin was insistent.

“Please Steve? Vickie invited me to come, but I don’t want to show up on my own – what if she’s busy and I end up standing in the corner by myself like some kind of loser?”

She knows that she doesn’t actually have to work so hard to convince him, but that’s part of the routine. Robin begs and pleads, and Steve agrees after making a big show of complaining about it (as if he wouldn’t walk through fire for her).

“Fine, fine! But you owe me one.”

“Yesssss, thank you!”

Now, as he surveys the crowded interior of Robbie Ferguson’s house, he thinks she owes him more than one. This isn’t just a high school party – it’s a band party. He doesn’t see a single familiar face in the crowd of high school students and recent graduates, although odds are most of the people here will recognize him. And the memories probably aren’t fond ones.

“Robin!” he hisses through his teeth. 

She rolls her eyes at him. “They’re band geeks Steve, they don’t bite.”

He gives her one of his most annoyed looks, and she backpedals.

“I know, I know,” she says sheepishly, “but look! Eddie is here!” She points toward the corner of the room. Sure enough, Eddie is standing near the punch bowl with Gareth, Jeff, and Dave. He’s abandoned his usual layers in the summer heat, wearing just a red flannel shirt over a black tank top. 

Steve is surprised to see him. Even though Eddie was cleared of all charges, there have still been some rough moments; a few holdouts causing trouble (mostly friends of Jason Carver). It’s made him understandably hesitant to go out much.

So to see him here, enjoying a party with his friends – it’s good. Really good.

“I take it that dopey grin means I’m forgiven?” Robin asks slyly. She knows all about his crush, teasing him whenever she gets the chance.

“Nice try,” he grumbles. “You’re covering all my shifts with Keith for the next two weeks.”

Before she can protest this outrageous demand, Vickie finds them.

 “Robin, you made it!”

It’s Robin’s turn to be distracted, melting like chocolate under a summer sun as Vickie links an arm through hers – which is Steve’s cue to step aside.

“I’ll be over there with Eddie.”

Robin nods without looking, still gazing lovingly at Vickie. Steve snorts and heads for the punch bowl. 

He grabs a solo cup and ladles in some of the vibrant red punch, wincing when he takes a sip – that shit is strong. Someone laced it a little too generously with vodka.

“Steve!” Eddie chirps when he joins the group, raising a cup in salute. “Look who it is gentlemen – our illustrious majesty, the former King of Hawkins High himself!”

Steve tries to hide his wince. He hates being called that, even if Eddie’s bright grin does take some of the sting out of the teasing. He taps the rim of his cup against the one in Eddie’s hand and says, “How many of those have you had already?”

“Too many and not enough milord,” Eddie says, slinging a friendly arm around his shoulders. Steve leans into the touch, just a little, and nods in greeting to the rest of the Hellfire club members. Jeff and Dave smile back politely, but Gareth just scowls - nose wrinkling like he’s smelling something foul. Even after all the time Steve’s spent hanging around lately, Gareth still hasn’t warmed up to him.

As usual, Eddie ignores the tension between them, launching into a discussion about how the newly released Aliens movie compares to the original. Since they recently watched both movies together, this is a conversation Steve can actually participate in.

It’s devolved into a heated debate on the merits of sequels in general by the time Robin and Vickie join them.

“Are we interrupting?” Robin asks drily. 

“Not at all,” Eddie replies smoothly. “I know you’ve got some strong opinions on the art of cinema Buckley, what do you think of…”

“Annnnd that’s enough of that,” Steve interrupts. If the two of them start arguing about movies, they’ll be at it for the rest of the night (as Steve knows from unfortunate experience). “Who’s your friend?”

A vaguely familiar blond followed the girls over, watching the boys with wide eyes.

“Oh, this is Claire! She’s a flute player – she’ll be taking over as first chair next year.”

That means absolutely nothing to Steve, although he nods like it makes total sense (ignoring Robin’s knowing snort of laughter). 

Claire seems happy to meet Steve, but she clams up when the rest of the gang is introduced – which leads to everyone standing around in a moment of awkward silence.

Surprisingly, Dave is the one to come to the rescue. “We should play a game. Truth or Dare maybe?”

The girls glance at each other and nod, and Steve shrugs. It’s certainly not the worst party game they could choose.

With a stop to refresh everyone’s punch, they migrate to the screened porch at the back of the house and settle into a circle on the floor.

It ends up being a lot of fun. The last time Steve played was with Tommy and Carol, and they were brutal about it – daring people to streak through the house or take hot sauce shooters until they puked. This game is much more lighthearted.

Although that’s not to say Steve doesn’t still have a bit of mean streak. 

“Eddie, I dare you to sing Careless Whisper by Wham.”

“Ugh, critical hit!” Eddie yelps and falls to the floor, writhing like he’s been fatally wounded. Steve laughs and nudges his hip with one foot.

“Come on, you have to sing – or else you forfeit.”

“Have you no mercy? I thought we were friends.”

Steve just grins and starts humming the melody. Robin, Vickie, and Claire all join in until Eddie concedes; standing up to belt out the hated song with gusto. He makes it to the first rendition of the chorus before he collapses into helpless giggles.

“I don’t know, does it count if he didn’t sing the whole song?”

“It counts, it counts!” Eddie gasps.

The game continues in that vein - until Claire chooses ‘truth’. “Hmmm,” Vickie says thoughtfully. “Have you ever had a crush on anyone at this party?”

It’s the sort of question that could easily be answered with a ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ – no need for any revealing details. But Claire stares straight at Steve, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously as she says, “I think every girl at Hawkins had a crush on King Steve. I heard girls talk all the time about what an amazing kisser he is.”

Robin rolls her eyes and turns her head, pretending to gag. A year ago, Steve would have jumped at the chance to flirt right back. Now, it just makes him uncomfortable. Claire is like most of the girls he’s been with before - curious about his reputation, attracted by his looks or his popularity or his parents’ money. Completely uninterested in him as a person.

He wants to glance at Eddie, get a read on what the other boy might be thinking; but he’s afraid of what he’ll see. Or maybe afraid of what he won’t see – that Eddie will be totally unaffected by the fact that some girl is blatantly flirting with Steve right in front of him. 

He doesn’t have long to worry about it, because Gareth is up next. He clears his throat loudly and points at Steve. “Truth or Dare Harrington.”

There’s no right answer here – Gareth is clearly eager to fuck with him, whatever he picks. 

“Dare.”

The look of unholy glee in Gareth’s eyes should have been Steve’s warning.

“Well now that we’ve heard all about King Steve’s magic mouth, I think we need a demonstration. I dare you to kiss…” he draws it out, moving his finger around the circle like he’s taking his time deciding.

Claire looks eager, Vickie looks slightly uncomfortable, and Robin looks like she’s staring down the gullet of a slobbering demogorgon.

Don’t pick Vickie or Robin, he thinks fiercely. Don’t you do it. If Gareth picks either Vickie or Robin, his ass is toast. He doesn’t particularly want Claire all over him, but it would be the better option by far. 

He never even considered the possibility that Gareth would choose… “Eddie!”

Steve must have had more to drink than he thought, because his head is suddenly spinning. He hasn’t felt his stomach drop like this since he was locked in a Russian elevator, plummeting to an uncertain fate.

The group erupts with shouts and laughter. Eddie jumps to his feet, waving his arms around grandly. “I see I’m collateral damage here! Guess I’ll have to take one for the team!” He bows and laughs, the same way he did when dared to sing Careless Whisper.

He’s so… casual about it. Totally unphased. 

This is all a joke to Eddie. It doesn’t mean anything – not like it does for Steve. Everyone in the group just laughs and laughs, as if they wouldn’t look at him in disgust if they knew he wanted to kiss Eddie for real.

He meets Robin’s eyes briefly across the circle - the only one here that knows what’s going on in his head. She looks like she’s in pain.

Steve swallows hard and reaches for the cool, casual mask he used to wear so well. This is a game – just a party game. Exactly like the time he kissed Tommy on a dare at Jimmy Allen’s birthday party. He can do this.

He smirks and stands up, keeping his shoulders loose, subtly wiping his clammy palms against the rough denim of his jeans. He and Eddie face each other in the center of the circle. 

The older boy has a faint smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose, and a tiny shaving nick by the corner of his mouth, near the scar that traces his jaw. His lips are so full, the prettiest mouth Steve’s ever seen. He doesn’t dare even look into those dark eyes.

Just a quick kiss and done, easy – no big deal. Steve licks his lips reflexively, wishing he’d put on some Chapstick or something, before he starts to lean forward. But then Eddie pretends to swoon, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead like some southern belle in a movie.

Would he be this dramatic if they were kissing for real? Steve’s imagined it so often, a different way each time – sometimes soft and tender, sometimes silly and fun; just like Eddie.

He certainly never imagined the laughter in the background, or Dave shouting, “Come on man, do it already!”

Steve freezes. At the urging of his friends, Eddie takes the initiative and steps closer – until he’s stopped by a hand pressed flat against his chest. 

“Stop. Please stop.” Is that Steve’s voice? He didn’t mean to say anything - but with that crack in composure the whole mask starts to fall apart, like a dam splitting open.

“I can’t do this. Not… not like this.”

Eddie frowns in confusion. 

Of course he’s confused – it’s just a game. Everyone was having fun until Steve had to go and ruin it. He choked on the dare, and now he’s even tearing up - like an idiot, right in front of everyone.

There’s no salvaging this. He ducks away with a mumbled excuse about needing some air, practically running from the house. Hopefully everyone is tipsy enough that they’ll all just forget about it in the morning. 

He doesn’t make it very far before he hears Robin behind him. 

“Steve! Hey… wait up!”

He stops at the edge of the yard, where the house lights fall away into shadow, and waits for her to catch up.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure.” Even he can hear the choked waver in his voice. 

“Steve…”

“It’s okay Rob, really.” It’s far from okay, and they both know it. “I think the punch just went to my head.”

They stare at each other, sharing one of those silent moments of communication that Dustin always points to as proof that they share a telepathic bond.

“You should go home then,” she says softly. “I’ll catch a ride with Vickie.” 

He’s sure she’ll want to talk about it later, but for now… she’s giving him an out. “Thanks Rob.”

He watches until she’s back inside, just breathing in the smells of fresh-cut grass and a nearby cigarette – deep breaths in and out. Then he finds his car (thankfully not blocked in) and hightails it home.

****

(Continued in Part 2)

[crownspeaksblog]

How the hell does ofmd manage to give me everything i love about tv shows, in one show?!!

It's funny, silly, stupid but somehow at the same time it's serious, deep and well thought out!

Characters change and develop in prominent ways, characters have arcs, what they go through affects them, things aren't stagnant. (1x01 stede is a coward who's trying to hide from the English, 2x08 stede throws himself over 2 soldiers, he's brave despite the fact he's out numbered. 1x04 ed wants to quit piracy but doesn't know how, 2x08 ed quits piracy a second time with stede even when the first time doesn't work out)

It's a beautiful romance, a queer romance between two people who have insane chemistry, a love story that has ups and downs, but in the end they're right there for eachother because what they have is True Love!

The show is shot so beautifully, it doesn't look boring, so many shows I've watched (although entertaining) are shot in the most boring/basic ways possible, ofmd has so many gorgeous still shots, a couple of fun one shots! (The bar fight one shot in 2x07 deserves more attention! Mer!stede and ed looking at eachother while floating in the water is genuinely one of the most beautiful shots I've ever seen!)

The outfits characters wear changes with their arcs and it makes sense story wise and the outfits are just so fun looking, it's interesting and different and so, so not basic. (Stede going from aristocratic silly little outfits to pirate shirts with deep neck openings and leather pants!! Hot! Also can't wait to see eds s3 outfit.)

The song choice is fun, the lyrics, beautifully add another layer to the story (I'm still not over the "I've loved him since he was born" lyric!)

The women in this show, although few and not main characters, they're interesting, different and not basic "normal" women, so many shows and movies I've watched, the men get to be weird, kooky and interesting while the women are just painfully normal, but in ofmd, the few women we got are either insane, wild, weird, violent or just not fucking "normal"! (the most "normal" woman we have is probably mary who was gonna stab her husband with a skewer through the earhole!! Also the addition of archie, former snake cult member is just amazing!)

The action we get every once in a while is just so fun! I love a fight scene and for the most part, they look good, it looks well done (again the bar fight and ed killing motherfuckers left, right and center in 2x08 is just so goddamn fun to watch!)

I know so many other shows have most of these things, but the fact ofmd has all of these things, that i just fucking love in one show is amazing, it's appreciated and on top of all of this, the show just makes me happy whether I'm watching it or watching people's reactions to it or even just thinking about it! I love this show even with the criticisms i might have, i love it!

[lucyheartfiliqx]

His home

Ship: Natsu Dragneel x Lucy Heartfilia

Summary: Natsu finds out that Lucy’s gone on a date, and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it.

This is the first time I’ve written anything for Tumblr, I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it! :)

_________________________________________________

“Damn, I’m stuffed. This new fire roast of yours is so good, Mira.”

“It really doesn’t take much Natsu. You literally just set the thing on fire.”

“You set them on fire so well thouuuggghhhh.”

It was the early evening, and Natsu and Happy had just come back from a job. It wasn’t difficult, all they had to do was protect a merchant and his wears as he travelled from one town to the next. The money they’d made, which wasn’t much anyway, went straight into Natsu and Happy’s meal. They didn’t regret it one bit.

He wiped his face with his sleeve and stood up. “Right, we’re off to Lucy’s. See you later!”

“Oh no you can’t Natsu, she’s busy right now.”

He turned around to look her, “doing what? Is she out on a job? She went alone?”

“No, no she’s…. on a date!”

Natsu’s eyes became saucers. Mira cupped her hands over her mouth, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“A date you say? How dare she not tell me…” Erza muttered, who could hear the conversation from where she sat nearby.

“Juvia thinks we should stalk!”

“Gray thinks so too.”

“Guys… no.” Came Wendy’s voice from a little further away.

“Oh, Lucy’s going to have me dead by morning. I can’t tell you much about it, but…”

Natsu had stopped listening, the cogs in his brain slowly trying to process this new, shocking information. Hit feet carried him to a bench in the corner of the guild. He slumped down and placed his chin on the table, eyes still wide. Happy followed him over, “hey, you good?”

“…I don’t know.”

The sun had completely set by the time Natsu forced himself up and out of the guild. He began to wander home with Happy slightly lagging behind. He sped up a little every so often to see if Natsu looked like he was in a talking mood, but he never seemed to be. His eyes were trained on the pavement and his feet kept catching on it, not bothering to pick them up properly as he walked.

“…You okay buddy?” He eventually asked, catching up enough to reach Natsu’s shoulder.

He didn’t respond at first. “I’m fine,” he muttered eventually, “just tired. I wanna go home.”

“Why don’t we go to Lucy’s?” He chirped, “we always go to Lucy’s.”

“She’s busy.”

“She won’t be by now, she’s probably back.”

“Let’s just go home, Happy.”

The conversation was decidedly ended on Natsu’s end after that. He picked up his speed and said no more, leaving Happy behind again.

Conversation remained few and far between after they’d returned home. The two of them hadn’t been there in a long time after getting into the habit of staying at Lucy’s every night, so it had accumulated a layer of dust on most surfaces and thick cobwebs had formed on the ceilings and on the corners of some of the furniture.

This, on top of the mess that they’d already left it in, made it look more like a garden shed than a home. To Natsu, in spite of how long he’d lived there, it didn’t feel like home anymore.

Without speaking, he batted his hammock in an attempt to rid it of some dust and clambered up onto it. He turned on his side and faced the wall, bringing his legs up to his stomach as he curled up under the scraggly blanket. Happy understood the message and went to lay on his little bed on the other side of the room, not bothering to try talking anymore.

Instead of going to sleep, he looked up to the collection of requests he’d made above him. His eyes fell on the job at the Evelue mansion that he’d labelled as ‘the first job I ever did with Lucy!’ He smiled a little and looked over some more. Though unlabelled, he could remember every single detail, everything himself, Happy and Lucy had done during the jobs they’d been on as a three.

Though many were unpleasant at best and she’d moan sometimes, Lucy tried to make the best out of bad situations. They always ended up being worthwhile, and more than just for the money. His smile grew as he recounted the memories, but the happiness was temporary and quickly replaced by a dull ache in his chest

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. He wanted Lucy to be happy, yes, but not with some random guy. Not with some random guy that didn’t know her like he did. They don’t know what she likes, what she doesn’t like. What she reads when she’s happy or when she’s upset, that she will try and reserve at least one evening a week to getting better at baking. That she likes her apartment to be clean and orderly or it stresses her out, that she sticks her tongue out a little in an act of concentration when she’s writing. That she likes to be hugged from behind to keep warm when she’s too tired to be embarrassed by it.

No.

He had to see her. The thought of her with someone else left a hole so deep in his soul that it hurt. He didn’t know what the rollercoaster of emotions Lucy made him feel meant half the time, but he knew this one.

-

It’d reached half past midnight. Lucy had just finished getting changed and was getting ready for bed when she heard the regular tap on her window. She smiled, rolled her eyes and walked over. She was met with Natsu, his lips forming a thin line, but no Happy. Not thinking much of it, she opened the window and he hopped in, landing quietly on the floor in a more cat-like manner than a human one.

“Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing her dressing gown to cover herself up a little, “it’s so late, I thought you’d decided to stay at the guild.”

“I went back to my house.”

“Oh, really? Why? Did you miss it?”

He looked down at the floor and moved slowly towards the sofa in the middle of the room. He sat down and stayed uncharacteristically quiet.

“Are you alright?” She asked, tilting her head and also walking over to the sofa and sitting down.

He didn’t respond for a while. Eventually, he said, “how was your date?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “You know about that?”

“Mira told me. She told quite a few people, actually.”

“Oh, figures. Typical Mira.”

“So?” He pushed, “did you enjoy it?”

She pondered on his question. “It was alright at first, but by the end I knew we wouldn’t click. None of my jokes hit home and he did an awful lot of talking about himself.”

Natsu’s brows raised. “So you’re not going to meet with him anymore?”

“Probably not,” she answered, “there’s no point in putting effort into something that won’t ever work.”

“…Why didn’t you tell me about it? That you were going?” He asked. For a split second, he looked genuinely hurt.

She sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell anyone until it was over. I only told Mira so that somebody would know where I was in case there was an emergency. I would have done, just not beforehand.”

She sighed again, deeper this time, and put her head in her hands.

“Clearly I’m just destined for a life of being alone.”

“…But you’re not alone.” Natsu murmured quietly, not looking up.

She sat up and turned to him but he didn’t meet her eyes.

“You have us,” he continued, “you have… me.”

He looked up at her, his eyes swimming with something she couldn’t quite work out.

She took a moment to respond, somewhat shocked by his words, a light pink tinging her cheeks.

“I-I know.”

“Are you sure you know?”

She smiled and leant her head back against the sofa. “Yeah I do. We’ll always be together, right?”

He nodded with a smile. Lucy figured that he didn’t mean what he’d said in the way that a small part of her heart wanted him to, but it still made her happy regardless.

“I can’t say I plan on going on anymore dates anytime soon.”

“Good.” He whispered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Come on,” he began to clamber into her bed, “bedtime now. It’s late.”

“You’re not sleeping in my bed!” She moaned, pulling at his clothes with the strength her tired body could muster.

He didn’t move a muscle and looked at her, “are we really gonna play this game again?”

She rolled her eyes, reluctantly accepting defeat. She took her dressing gown off and climbed in after him.

“What was that guy’s name?” Natsu asked after a couple minutes of silence.”

“Why?” She asked.

“So I can set him on fire.”

“Oh for god’s sake.”

“Kidding, kidding. Sort of.”

It wasn’t long until she was fast asleep. Natsu stayed on his side of the bed until he could hear her breathing slow and deepen. Slowly, he crept onto Lucy’s side and slid one arm over her waist. He then waited for a bit to make sure he hadn’t woken her up and began the harder of the two. He cautiously slid his other arm under her neck. Still asleep, she felt the movement and received it, sinking into his bicep. He then snuggled up to and sank into her, fitting his knees into the little nook hers had made.

And there he stayed, listening to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing. In, out, in, out. He was warmer here. Calmer. More at peace. He didn’t like his old shack. He wanted to be at Lucy’s house. With Lucy. Not long after, sleep succumbed to him too.

Right where he belonged.