#bitch is covered in moss and enjoying it

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 2: Rip And Tear

Content warning: misogyny, angst, brief description of dead bodies, violence

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Them - Jesse Draxler, VOWWS Follow - Android Lust

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

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It should have been your sister. She was the lovely one—kind and sweet, able to charm anyone with a pretty smile and a few words. Why did it have to be you? Was this your punishment for what you did to your mother? If so, you would gladly accept your fate. But you only wish you didn’t have to deal with a bastard like Ryomen Suku—

“Oi, brat! Time to wake up!”

Slap!

Your eyes crash open, and a dull sting radiates from the side of your face where you were struck.

Blinking rapidly, you find Sukuna's face alarmingly close to yours, noses almost touching. Warm breath brushes your cheeks, carrying the faintest scent of blood. His large, glowing orbs hover so near that their strange pattern becomes clear—concentric rings nested perfectly within one another, rippling outward like waves from a single drop in a still pond.

You blink again.

Memories of what happened before you fainted rush back.

His ravenous eyes eating their way into you.

You panic.

Heart hammering against your chest, you frantically scoot backward, kimono floundering around your legs, you kick up a storm of dirt and moss under your heels in a desperate attempt to distance yourself. The rough ground scrapes against your gloved hands and calves, but the fear propels you to keep moving, to get away from him.

Sukuna huffs and straightens to his full height. He circles his tongue behind closed lips, clicking it derisively. Then he crosses his upper arms over his chest, and the lower ones fold in, hands on hips. His face is one of indifference as he watches your panic unfold. His eyes, however, betray a hint of satisfaction, enjoying the spectacle before him.

As you shuffle away, you can't help but feel he's silently crafting new insults in his twisted mind, ready to hurl them at you in your vulnerable state.

Mutt. Bitch. Pathetic. Ugly.

Eyes lowering, you see your breasts are still exposed, and nipples peaked and throbbing from his advances. Your hands fly up to cover yourself. That familiar feeling of shame is all-consuming.

Upon closer inspection, you notice that your kimono is completely ruined. Though you shouldn’t care, you still need to arrive at the shrine, and you are a mess. The fabric is stained with sweat, dirt, and possibly saliva from his palm mouth. Additionally, the front panels of your garment are ripped open from where he descended upon you.

Images of Sukuna flood your mind: his chest pressed to your back, looming over you, warm breath, hands touching damp skin, hands dipping lower…

Your eyes snap up to meet his.

"What did you do to me?" you ask, striving to keep your voice steady so as not to provoke him. You are beginning to realize he is as unpredictable as the weather. Speaking of which, since regaining consciousness, you've noticed large charcoal-coloured clouds have drifted in and have finally relieved the sun’s oppressive heat.

Sukuna scoffs at your question.

"What did I do? I merely touched your virgin tits, and then you took a tumble. Pathetic, really," he remarks, raising his eyebrow to emphasize the word 'pathetic.'

A tumble.

Of course, he lacked the decency to support you when you fainted. You vividly remember the sensation of weightlessness as he let you fall.

You want to confront him about his disregard for your boundaries, but considering he's a monster, you doubt he would have any morality to respect them.

"You didn’t—" you swallow saliva, "you didn’t do anything else, did you?" you ask nervously.

His eyes flare. 

“Didn’t what? Fuck you?" he responds with a note of delight in his voice, knowing it will unsettle you.

You nod slightly, your dishevelled hair falling past your shoulder to obscure your face.

"Trust me, you would know if I had," he sneers. You don't trust him. "Besides, you can rest assured I don’t plan on fucking you. I don’t fuck weak women. I prefer those who don’t pass out from the faintest of touches."

You hate him.

You’re not weak. You’re just... complicated. And in the moments before you turn him into a massive pile of flesh and bone, he will come to realize the mistake he's made.

Both of you lock eyes.

Looking up at him from the forest floor, you wonder how many have seen this as their final view right before he rips them apart.

How does he do it? Does he solely use teeth, or does he prefer to use his four hands? You've heard the rumours of his abilities and are grateful you've not experienced them firsthand.

In the distance, you hear a low rumble reverberating through the air, signaling an approaching storm fueled by the day's heat.

Sukuna's gaze shifts skyward, and a sudden cool breeze tousles his pink hair and blood-stained hakama. He seems at ease here, as if he belongs in this forest, like a creature in its natural habitat—feral. And that's precisely why your father wants him eradicated. Sukuna is too untamed.

He looks back down at you.

"Come," he orders, stepping forward and clamping a hand around your arm, causing you to jump. "It's time to attend our wedding before you further bore me and I decide to kill you," he adds sharply, yanking you upright.

You instinctively clutch the torn fabric to your chest, covering yourself. His gaze falls on your hands, and a sadistic grin appears, canines poking out. He takes pleasure in what he has done to you.

Sukuna gestures for you to move ahead, pointing south with his lower hands.

"After you, my ugly virgin bride," he belittles. A smirk overshadows his face and then disappears.

God, you desperately want to push back against his cruel words, but you restrain yourself. Instead, you avert your gaze, eyes narrowing in anger, mouth thinning.

As you brush past him, his aura briefly curls lazily around your neck before dissipating as quickly as it came.

* * * * *

More damn walking. 

It feels like you've been out here for an eternity, though it’s probably only been a bit over an hour.

You now lead the way, with Sukuna following closely behind. The atmosphere between you two is silent, broken only by the sound of his footsteps and his occasional grunts when you stray off course. You let your kimono drag on the ground, gathering leaves and dirt, as you no longer care to keep it clean. Periodically, you feel a tingle directed at your nape, aware that he is staring at you.

The arches of your feet are starting to ache, but not as much as your tender breasts, the only reminder of what he did to you.

At this very moment, you long for your mother’s presence. You crave comfort, knowing your father won’t offer any. In fact, the asshole that he is, you believe he would laugh at you for the incident.

There’s another deep rumble in the distance as the storm draws closer. The wind begins to pick up, carrying with it the scent of rain. You welcome its arrival, craving something to witness its fury while you keep your emotions tightly bottled up—locked, secure, perhaps waiting to split open one day.

After walking for some time, you see a large structure peeking out of the treetops in the distance—the shrine. 

Relief washes over you, knowing your sister is there.

Drawing closer to the tree line, you spot a wooden box partially concealed among the forest's undergrowth. It’s weathered and marked by time and nature. Curiosity pulls you closer, and as you pass, you peer inside. You find moth-eaten textiles that, in their prime, might have been of high quality. Seeing these tattered remnants makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling and keep walking.

Your eyes begin to notice a series of other objects scattered throughout the area. Broken ceramics, pottery, bags that might contain grain, and tiny silk pouches lie strewn across the forest floor, mixed with discarded, rusted relics.

They are offerings. Contributions. Something to appease the abomination at your back.

You wonder why so many of them lay out here instead of inside the shrine. Perhaps whoever brought them was too frightened to confront what lay within. You could understand that.

As your eyes continue scanning the forest floor, you finally spot what you dreaded seeing.

Broken white shapes tangled in the brush—skeletal remains of both humans and livestock scattered across the ground. Sun-bleached bones jut from beneath weathered, dry skin that clings like parchment. Skulls, still holding wisps of hair, catch the wind, making them dance.

Although the husks are few, they hint that something had consumed most of the remains. But you knew, god, you knew what ate them.

A lump of sick tries to push its way from your stomach to your throat, but you force yourself to swallow it.

Tentatively, you peek over your shoulder. Sukuna is following behind you with a sense of urgency.

His round muscular shoulders rock back and forth—bunching up, then releasing, bunching up, releasing, bunching, releasing.

Their rapid oscillation accentuates the speed of his gait. Each rhythmic swing of his muscles makes you restless.

His eyes climb down to meet yours. They seem to carry a silent, almost shuddering warning, urging you to turn your head and quicken your pace, which you do.

Eventually, you arrive at the forest's edge, with one foot stepping out from the trees. A firm hand suddenly grabs your shoulder, halting you. You resist the urge to swat it away.

Sukuna circles around to face you, his four eyes glaring down.

"A few matters to address before you enter your new home," he says, sounding both sarcastic and threatening all at once. "Firstly, understand this arrangement solely exists for my amusement. I get pleasure from witnessing your father’s torment as I take his precious daughter from him."

If only Sukuna knew how little your father cared for you.

“So, that’s why you agreed to this?” you ask.

You want to confirm what your father suggested: Sukuna relishes holding power over him. You know, there is a long-standing animosity between the two. Over the last few years, Sukuna has been encroaching on your clan’s territory, leading to a series of skirmishes to reclaim what was lost, most of which have been useless.

Sukuna stares blankly, digging his thumb into your shoulder, and continues, ignoring the question.

“As my wife in name only, I expect your obedience at all times. Lastly”—he pauses, drawing closer, the oppressive weight of his presence seeming to suffocate the air around you—“understand that you are my property. Should you ever run away, I will hunt you down and tear you apart. Understood?”

Your blood cools.

What if you fail to kill him and end up trapped here, unable to leave? And if you do manage to escape, you now have his warning to contend with.

That familiar prickling in your fingers returns.

You take a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your face remains neutral even as your heart beats violently.

Slowly, you nod.

Satisfied with your compliance, he releases his death grip and walks away.

“Is that what happened to the woman on the road? Did she run away?” you ask, unsure where the sudden bravery came from.

He stops.

With his back turned, he shifts slightly, casting a sidelong glance. You briefly glimpse his lower eye, wrinkling as it slowly sweeps over you. There's a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

His cloying aura rolls towards you, filling your head, it's heavy, gnawing at your nerves.

“Careful,” he warns. “I have little patience for nosy creatures.”

Inwardly, you laugh as he calls you a ‘creature.’ The irony isn’t lost on you—if anyone deserves that title, it’s him.

With nothing else said, he turns and strides out of the final row of trees, making his way toward the shrine. His lack of response shows that he doesn’t want you meddling in his affairs. That’s fine. You have secrets of your own. 

Dumbass.

You ruffle your face to mock him behind his back. His big, stupid, giant back.

Without turning, Sukuna tips one of his lower hands into a crook and gestures for you to follow. You hurry to catch up.

Approaching the shrine, you see that it’s massive, reflecting the presence of its master. It’s constructed from strong, thick timber, beams and pillars carved from wood. They contrast against the dark, weathered stone of the foundation. Around it lies a strange desolation—no foliage grows near it, as if the forest itself has recoiled. And here you are, walking into its embrace. 

Great.

As you climb the stone steps, you see your sister standing outside the entrance with a white-haired monk. At the sight of her, you feel your body relax. A subtle comfort fills you.

“Yuna,” you murmur her name, the sound escaping your lips as a shaky breath. But the relief is quickly overshadowed by everything that has happened—your hellish journey through the forest with Sukuna.

Your eyes swell as if a dam is being slowly filled. You rush past Sukuna, who mutters wordlessly under his breath.

Barreling up the steps, you hold your torn kimono to your chest. Your sister can see your distress and instantly rushes to meet you, pulling you close. Tears begin to fall, finally ruining the last traces of your makeup.

She rubs your back soothingly as you cling to her, knowing every moment with her will soon be gone. Tonight, she, your father, and your clan will depart, leaving you alone to face a task you are starting to believe is impossible.

Your sobs become uncontrollable now.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here," she whispers, placing a gentle hand against your cheek. "No more tears, sister.”

Her words and actions, like your mother’s, relieve your aches and pains. Your tears dry slowly, and you sniffle once before leaning back to look at her. Her smile is the sweetest thing you have seen in a while, making you want to cry all over again.

Heavy steps echo behind you, and you tense, seeing as a shadow falls over you both.

Looking up, you see Sukuna observing your sister with an unreadable expression. Your sister's fingers hook into you as she returns his look with a challenging stare.

He scoffs at the display, then cuts his eyes to the white-haired monk.

“Uraume,” he grunts and gestures to you, “get this lot cleaned up.” 

“Of course, Master Sukuna,” they say, with little emotion, bowing as they address him.

With one last disapproving look, Sukuna steps through the massive doors and disappears.

Uraume moves toward you and your sister, who are huddled together.

“This way,” they gesture toward the doors.

Thunder echoes again, and a drop of rain hits the top of your head. The storm is here.

You use one hand to hold up your torn kimono and the other to grip your sister’s wrist, determined not to let her go.

With all the courage you can muster, you step inside.

The shrine’s corridors are wide and deep, dimly lit by flickering lanterns hanging from the walls. Your shadow trails faintly behind you as you walk, and your feet meet the polished wooden flooring, which echoes softly with each step.

The air is thick with the scent of aged wood, mingled with rot and an iron-like tang that you try to avoid inhaling.

“Where’s Father?” you whisper to your sister as you follow Uraume.

“When we arrived, he was ushered away with the clan members. I assume they’re off being entertained,” she replies with a smile meant to reassure you.

You nod your head. You need to speak with him privately.

After a series of winding twists and turns, you arrive at what you can only assume is the back of the shrine. You've lost track of the path you took. 

Uraume leads you into a private bathing room where a large basin of misting water awaits. To your relief, they allow your sister to stay with you.

Two of the shrine’s attendants enter and remove your torn kimono, carefully taking away the remnants of Sukuna’s touches. You glance down at your silk gloves, now stained with dirt, and tug them off. Keeping your hands clenched into fists, you brace yourself as the women prepare to scrub you down.

You settle into the water as the cleaning begins with fervor. Your ruined makeup is wiped away, and your hair is washed and combed. No one speaks to you, and that’s just fine. After the day you've had, you're too exhausted to engage in conversation. Besides, the warm water soothes you, making you feel like you could fall asleep right there.

A rustle of fabric pulls your attention. Blinking heavily, you spot your sister seated across the room, her lips pursing in disapproval as she watches her handiwork unravel.

Once they have finished their cleaning, you notice that they don’t apply any new makeup or fuss with your hair; you are left as natural as can be. They quickly dress you in a plain robe, and Uraume hurries you both off into another room before departing.

This new room will apparently be your personal living quarters. It’s spacious, with a well-kept futon spread out and a low table situated under a small, grilled window. You note the window size and know you won’t be able to squeeze through it if you want to escape. In the corner, a chair with a cushioned seat sits low to the ground.

You let out a deep sigh.

It doesn’t appear as a prison, though it feels like one.

You spot your small travelling trunk beside the futon, carried here by one of your clan’s attendants. Opening it, you take out a fresh pair of white silk gloves and slip them on.

The colour choice is deliberate, as you've noticed the kimono waiting for you on the futon.

You move toward the garment and lift it.

Its white base flows like the colour of bone—bone white. Like the fucking burial site you witnessed on the way here. You can only assume that your dear fiancé selected it for you. The front panels are lined in dark blue trim, creating a striking contrast. Next to the kimono is a matching obi.

Shrugging off your robe, your sister begins to help you dress.

As the kimono settles over you, it feels almost like a cage locking around you.

“Do you want to talk about what happened in the forest?” your sister says quietly as she maneuvers around you.

You tense up. You want to keep your emotions in check and not upset her.

“No,” you whisper firmly.

She remains silent and begins to wrap the obi around your midsection.

“Yuna, could you find Father and bring him here for me, please?” you ask quietly.

Your sister looks up from where she’s tucking and tying the obi into place. She finishes, then steps back.

“Of course,” she murmurs before leaving.

You pace the length of the room, mind running through different scenarios. Your fingers twist and knot together as though trying to find relief in their own frantic dance. 

After several moments, the door slides open, and your father and Onishi enter and close it, leaving your sister nowhere to be seen.

You can already smell the sake on both of them, and that look of displeasure on your father’s face makes your hackles rise. Pursed lip, furrowed brow, squared shoulders.

“I see you're still useless,” he says, voice flat, almost slurring.

Your eyebrows crease.

“I tried. He had his back to me, and I made an attempt, but he sensed me. He’s inhuman. I’m not sure how to get this done, Father,” you whisper before pausing, “he didn’t take kindly to that, and then he assaulted m—”

Crack!

The violent slap echoes through the room.

It hurts.

Your vision darkens, and your head snaps to the side. A high-pitched yelp escapes you as tears sting your eyes. You can already feel a bruise forming on your cheek.

“Do you think I care what he did to you?” His eyebrows rise as if in a question, but you know better than to answer. “You’re a woman. You’re supposed to let him use you. Let him touch you. I don’t care. I don’t even care if he devours you piece by piece. Just get it fucking done,” he spits out.

Your bottom lip trembles at his words. Onishi leans against the closed door, laughing with a nasally chuckle.

Your father grabs one of your wrists and pulls it towards him.

“It wasn’t hard for you to touch your pregnant mother with these.” He gestures to your gloved hands, and your stomach sinks. “I don’t care how long it takes. Do the same to him.”

You blink several times, still reeling from the slap.

“How is there not another way? Why am I the answer?” you ask, voice trembling.

Your father yanks you closer, raising his hand to hit you again. You shut your eyes, cowering in resignation. You are too exhausted to resist, allowing your body to crumple under his grip.

Knock, knock, knock.

Your father pauses, turning his head toward the closed door.

“The ceremony is set to begin,” Uraume’s calm voice cuts through from the other side. 

They might not realize it, but they have just saved you.

“We will be there in a moment,” your father responds coolly, then turns back to you. “Get it done, or I will persuade you in other ways,” he hisses in your face, drops your wrist, and leaves the room.

Onishi approaches and looks down at you, his eyes cold. He runs his thumb across his lower lip.

“You know, once you take down the beast, I’m sure your father will allow me to take you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your bruised cheek. You flinch at the touch. “That is, if you've not completely ruined yourself by then.”

He gives you one last cruel smile before departing the room, leaving you alone.

You hate him. You hate both of them. You hate all of them.

Thunder rumbles outside, shaking the shrine as the rain begins to pour. The floodgates have opened.

Your sister peeks her head into the room.

“Sister, it’s time to go,” she says with a smile, extending her hand. You take it, and carefully turn your face away so she can’t see the bruise on your cheek.

In silence, you both walk down the dimly lit corridor toward the ceremony.

Your hand instinctively moves to your face, and you compare this slap to the one inflicted by Sukuna. A surge of resentment rises as you realize that your father’s blow was far more brutal.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 3

[gophergal]

Author Commentary - I Know Where to Look (Chapter 1)

Howdy y'all! I just posted the first chapter of my first tf2 fic, and figured that rambling about my thought processes from writing it would be fun. So, enjoy?

Welcome to my first Author Commentary post!

Regardless of if anyone other than my best bud (and partner in word crimes) @cursed—alien read these going forward, I thought it would be fun to explain references and thoughts from the process of fic writing. These are the sort of thing I love to know about my favorite art. I’m a great lover of artist interviews (specifically the ones where the artist in question explains the development of the concept and reasoning for the techniques they use) and an avid reader of author’s notes, so I hope that if anyone reading my fic is like me that they will enjoy this addition to the story.

Formatting

I feel that the most notable thing about this fic is that, despite being rated as explicit, every explicitly sexual scene is under a cut. Why do this instead of just making the scenes fade to black or formatting it in a standard manner? Because, dear reader, I have had the experience of reading explicitly rated fic solely for the buildup to the smut scenes. I experience fluctuations between sex favorability to neutrality, all the way to aversion. When I’m feeling uncomfortable with explicit sexual content, I often wish there was a way to just skip those scenes entirely. But on the other hand, I also acknowledge that sex scenes CAN have narrative and character importance. For the specific dynamic that Corey and I envisioned for Red Oktoberfest- that being a relationship that starts as professional and sexual before becoming emotionally involved, those scenes would be a shame to ignore entirely on my part.

Behaviors and thoughts during sexual intimacy are rich with characterization, and I wanted to be able to express that. So, the best of both worlds, to me, was to have a second layer of opting in to reading those scenes. I may have to redo them later, however, because the way I had to go about it doesn’t work with pdf downloads and likely isn’t screen reader accessible. My current thoughts in regards to those problems is to encourage folks to download as some other format, and eventually create a podfic of this story.

Headcanons Involved

Something you may notice about this is the amount of headcanon I’m trying to cram into it. To be frank, I use most fic writing as a vehicle with which to go “look at my headcanons, boy”, so this isn’t surprising.

The first of which I would like to note is Heavy’s love of pulp romance. I couldn’t tell you why I first thought of it, but it’s grown on me like moss. Mikhail is a lover and a fighter. To me. In my heart. He views all art for what it is, and values the stories themselves pretty equally. The only important difference between the two books he’s carried with him from Russia and the pulp he’s collected in the US is sentimentality.

Speaking of those books, why the two I picked? Brothers Karamazov is a pretty obvious choice. It’s a classic and widely studied. Tsar Hunger by Leonid Andreyev, however was actually mentioned by name in Poker Night At The Inventory. In one conversation, Tycho asks Heavy what his favorite book is, to which he replies that he “prefers war.” Eventually, though, he does end up saying that he likes Tsar Hunger. I wanted to know if this was just a book picked at random, or if it actually meant something about Telltale’s interpretation of Heavy’s character. After all, the tumblr side of the fandom LOVES Heavy’s PhD in Russian Literature. It was. A BITCH. To find any information about that book. There isn’t a goodreads page for it. Or a wikipedia. Or even an amazon page selling copies. Like, what the fuck? Eventually, I found that the Internet Archive has it available to borrow by the hour. The particular copy that was archived was originally from the University of Texas and has a fabric cover. So no synopsis.

At this point I was thinking “oh my fucking god I’m two hours into this research process,” and decided I wouldn’t be reading King Hunger. I’ve skimmed it a bit and, filling in the blanks with some guesses based on the information Wikipedia provided about the author, it’s a symbolic/expressionist criticism of the monarchy, but one which also criticizes bloody revolution. Please take that with a pound of salt though. Once again, I spent a solid three hours getting to that amount of understanding.

This actually leads me to discussing another element that’s important to my interpretation of Heavy. Namely, who is father was. On r/TF2, I constantly see people arguing back and forth whether its fine to joke about Mikhail being “Heavy Communism Guy” or if that’s a gross misunderstanding since his father was declared a counterrevolutionary. (Meanwhile these same dimwits are happily joking about Medic being a member of a certain fascist regime, but I digress)

Personally, I think Mikhail’s father (who I will be calling Ivan Melnyk going forward, as I headcanon Heavy’s full name to be Mikhail Ivanovich Melnyk) was counterrevolutionary, but not anti-communist. That venn diagram isn’t just a circle my friends. In political matters, it’s very easy to get stuck in black and white thinking- and that’s fair for large matters- but, when it comes down to how people believe they should go about making changes, that’s where you get in-fighting between allied groups.

More clearly, I believe that Ivan was a man who believed in progress and common good, but found disproportionate violence distasteful. And he would have tried to impart those values on his son. However, Ivan’s death and his family’s imprisonment would really sour that for Mikhail. It adds a level of complexity where he is both someone who hates senseless violence (see: the sparrow story in Poker Night), but is extremely wrathful (see: the engineer story in Poker Night).

Switching gears, let’s talk respawn. Personally, I like the idea of it as something that exists in universe, rather than just being a game mechanic in the Documentary Video Game About the Gravel Wars. It adds some more leeway for goofy shit the mercs can get up to while also opening up more avenues for mentally trauma. Angst my beloved.

Respawn

Respawn, in my mind, works by teleporting the remains to a mechanism that then recycles the matter into a pre-programmed form. I imagine that this is updated every day for the TF2 mercs, but only by the week or month for the Classic era systems. Upon exiting respawn, subjects may experience “respawn sickness,” which includes symptoms of nausea, diziness, anxiety, sensitivity to light and sound, disorientation, soreness, ect. One can become accustomed to respawn over time, and this is expedited by the modern systems, but some might remain sensitive to respawn even after years of use.

TFI standard protocol is to switch respawn systems over to the older system in order save money and perform diagnostics/maintenance without risking the permanent death of one of their “specialists.”

Another book note

The passage Heavy reads at the end is from a novella called Special Nurse by Lucy Agnes Hancock. It is Yet Another book I haven’t read, but decided to reference. Originally, I had wanted to reference a Harlequin Romance published in 1960-63, as I really didn’t want to include that flavor of anachronism. Dont fucking ask me why, but it mattered to me. However, the vast majority of what I could find online to read was published between 1975 and 1998. There were three books that technically fit my requirements, but the two from 1961 were either vacation romance or noble romance. Which just didn’t fit the vibe I was looking for. And the one from 1963 was published in November of that year. Which would have been fine, but I envisioned this chapter taking place in late May or early June.

In the late 40’s to mid 60’s Harlequin published SOOOOO many hospital romances. And this amused me, so I desperately wanted Heavy to be reading one. But I searched multiple times and just. Couldn’t find any that I could skim through. Fuck, dude, I couldn’t even find samples or excerpts. I COULD BARELY FIND SYNOPSES. I got desperate and dug through my mom’s old romance novel collection and lo and behold, there it was. Special Nurse. It’s not Harlequin (published by Pocket Books) and it wasn’t technically from 60-63 (originally published in 1948, but received 5 print runs from 1950-19060. Mine is from August 1960), but it WAS A DOCTOR ROMANCE. HUZZAH.

Dear fucking lord why do I do this shit to myself ahhhhhhhh

[abbonation]

Lost Apprentice, Chapter I: Get Clean

Admitting you have a problem is the hardest part.

Explicit, 18+ content ~1.9k words

A/N: Welcome one, welcome all to the first full length fic of mine that isn't only smut! Blame it on the anti-depressants, blame it on the times but a bitch is needing some story goddamnit. Something with some bite to it. Which is something I've honestly never written before; that being said- feedback is welcomed and encouraged! This first chapter is shorter but I have the next few started and will hopefully update a couple times a week as I have time between work and school :)

CWs: accidental voyeurism; like 1 (one) horny thought?? It's light asf this chapter but let me know if you notice other necessary warnings I didn't include!!

Chapter I: Get Clean

A loud sight of relief escapes you upon stepping over the threshold of the combination bar and inn located— where the fuck are we? Eriadu? Ahh right, a small town on Eriadu. The jungle planet known only for its proximity to both the Hydian Way and Rimma trade route.

It had been nineteen, yes, nineteen full day cycles since your last shower, and technically you didn’t start feeling really nasty until about the seventh cycle mark, seeing as the first three were spent in hyperspace, but still. Over two full galactic weeks. No shower. And of course the Crest didn’t have even a sonic shower, yet Mando wondered why you seemed to be feeling stressed. Certainly it had nothing to do with the utter stink that was surely wafting off your body at this point, knowing full well he had the credits to install a complete fresher on the ship.

But, you were here now, a few warn down buildings, most covered in moss, but civilization nonetheless, where Mando had said We’ll refuel and rest up- then I’ll take you home.

He approached the bar where a Trandoshan man stands, wiping the counter. 

“Are your bathing stalls private?” Mando asks, hands on his utility belt. 

“Well, there are no bath stalls, but we have a bath house; it’s 5 credits a person, you get an hour. It’s public but there ain’ been a soul in there all day, so it’s all yours.” He smiles and you nod in thanks.

Mando turns to you, you can almost see the raised eyebrows on his face through the visor.

“I don’t mind sharing, I mean, if you’re okay with it.” you throw your hands up, honestly you’d wash in a mud puddle at this point if it meant feeling any less dirty than you are right now. 

He turns back to the bartender, passing him 10 credits and walking where he points, they’re just down the stairs and behind the double doors. Enjoy. You glare at his smirk.

—

“I don’t, uh, want to make you wait so you can go first,” Mando stumbles out, holding his towels. 

“Nah, it’s okay, you are the captain and all,” you respond- even if what you’d like to say is ‘Sounds great, if I have to smell like hot garbage for even one more minute I may implode.” 

“No really, I insist, it’s my fault we’re late getting back anyway.” He looks down at the tiled floor.

You think about how he insisted you stay by the treeline as the group of criminals passed by. There was no bounty catching or murdering scheduled for this trip, you were just supposed to be helping him find a pre-galactic war era ruin that was rumored to be in the jungle on this planet. Yet, there they were, and there he went. You had ended up intervening, shouting some shit like, “Oh no Mando! I’m so scared!” Trying to distract the attackers. Four armed men looked like they should’ve been a struggle, but he handled it no problem, especially with your distraction. They turned and two began running towards you, and Mando had to duck and weave between the other two to reach them. You had your dagger out and at the ready, slicing at one of them when he got you up against a tree. When he lunged towards your neck, you dropped your weight, stabbing the dagger into the meat of his thigh and pulling up, slicing through his flesh. He shrieked and fell in pain, blood dripping down your arms. You quickly removed the dagger, turning to run from him, when you looked back to see Mando stomping on his face. You swallow and stare at the boot shaped hole he was making, growling in effort, the other three men lay surrounding Mando. You hold the knife out again when he turns towards you, an unintentional move following what you just bared witness to. 

He stepped forward, “Why did you do that?” He’s angry. 

“I-I’m sorry I was trying-” you sound weak, and you hate it.

“I don’t care about ‘trying to help’. You could’ve been killed. Or worse, and you know it.” He’s closer now, still angry, but less yelling in your face.

“I thought I could help.” You say to the ground. 

He releases a breath and turns, resuming the trek back out of the forest towards the Crest. 

—

And after the small amount of back and forth, here you are. Sharing the deep stone bath, overflowing with steamy lavender and salt scented water, the stained glass inlaid in the ceiling casts a spectacular light on the room and a thin divider made of spindly, vine-like woven reed material separates you and Mando. 

You’re sure he won’t take the helmet off, that’s his prerogative, though. For now you let the hot water loosen your tight muscles and bones, cramped from the lack of moving room on the ship. There’s a tense silence between you, save for the trickling water and distant sounds of the bar beyond the doors.

“Listen, uh, about the jungle,” You hear his voice, and confirm that he still has the helmet on from the tune of his vocoder, and peek over to your right to see his blurred outline through the divider. 

“It’s.. nothing. Let’s not mention it.” You don’t want to think anymore about his over-protection despite your barely being what you might consider ‘friends’. Or the fact that you liked watching him kill the person who meant to hurt you.

“I just- don’t want to be the reason you get killed. That’s all.”

The water splashes when he puts his arms back down.

“Why did you ask me to come if you didn’t want all the help I can offer, Mando?”

“You know I didn’t ask you to come to be my bodyguard. You’re better at the, y’know, the smart stuff. And I’m better at the.. Killing stuff. They weren’t going to get the chance to mug us.”  You laugh at him then, he’s right. 

Silence overtakes you both again and you can’t seem to keep the anger at his actions at surface level when the water feels this good and he doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

You brush your fingertips over your scalp and down the front of your chest, brushing over your nipples and shivering when the chilly air hardens them. Too risky for now, though you are keyed up from the last couple weeks. You sink down until just your nose and the top of your head rests above the water, and blow bubbles on the surface.

“What’s that?” His voice turns towards you.

“Blowin’ some bubbles,” you hope he hears your smile, this really is a luxurious place, even if it came after a lot of suffering. “So, where to after this?”

You start to shampoo your hair, working the suds over your head.

“Like I said, I’m taking you back to Obroa-Skai.” 

“No pit stops this time, Mando?”

You’re rinsing your hair and smoothing in the conditioner now. 

“Well- I actually did calculate in a stop on Nevarro for some bounties, if that’s okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s on our way right? I don’t mind, nothing to do back at home except examine more rocks,” you laugh and lean towards the divider to grab the bar of soap when you inadvertently get a glimpse to his side of the bath through the divider.

His bare thighs with wet hair slicked to them stick out of the water, he’s leaned back on the same wall you were. His sun kissed stomach slopes down to a delicious happy trail, and you breathe out, blinking hard to snap out of your trance. “Sorry what?” 

“I asked if you like your job.”

“Yeah, um, I mean, as much as anyone likes their job, I guess. It’s nice to enjoy what you do even just a little bit.” You lather the bar against the sponge and begin washing your feet and legs, up towards your thighs.

“Why haven’t you been bounty hunting recently?” You knew there had to be a reason he needed your help on this trip, he hadn’t divulged it yet. 

The water sloshes on his side, he’s washing himself now too.

“Remember the uh, the kid I had with me last time we stopped on your planet?” 

“Sure, the green baby? That was a bounty though, right?” 

“Yeah, he was, he sort of became more than that though. I ended up.. keeping him.” 

Your scrubbing comes to a halt and you turn to the divider, “Wait, you what?”

“I kept him. He’s my ad’ika, my son.” 

Your eyes close and you shake your head, trying to make sense of things. “So you just kept this child? And whoever put the bounty out let you?”

“Not exactly, it’s a long story. I’ll explain eventually, but I asked because you helped me a lot- finding this remnant, it would be nice to have your help more readily available in the future… and I’m looking for him, I need to know he’s safe.” 

“So someone took him?” 

“No, just.. Okay. He’s a Jedi and he’s training with his master. I gave him over willingly, but I don’t know where he is now.”

“Mando you’re fucking crazy.” You have to laugh at the situation. 

“Excuse me?” He sounds wounded almost.

“I mean, not to be mean but we don’t talk, or see each other for like what? A year and a half? And you’ve had this crazy life changing journey, a child, new armor, new everything! It’s just.. wild. How do I know it’s even you under there? And now you want me to do what? Quit my job and surf the stars with you?” 

He’s quiet. 

“You’re- you’re right. It’s foolish of me.” 

You hear him start to get out of the water, splashing as he covers up in a towel. 

Fuck. That’s not what was supposed to happen. You stand up too, quickly reach to wrap up in your towel, and run-walk as quick as possible to meet him where he’s headed for the doors back to the changing room.

“Wait, Mando, that’s, that’s not what I meant.” You stop, and place your hand on his bare shoulder to turn him to face you. The T of his visor tilts down to look at your face, and where your hand rests on his skin. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of your search for your son. It’s just crazy how much has changed since we last saw each other, y’know?” 

You look up at him and notice his adam’s apple bob as he swallows and nods. 

“I didn’t say no. Or that I don’t want to, it's just.. insane, but that doesn’t always have to be a bad thing.” You smile and look down at his chest. 

The gentle trickle of the water spouts is the only sound, and the steamy heat of the room must be getting to your head when you move your hand down his clavicle to skate just your fingertips over the hair on his chest. He shivers. “I think I might want to. Just lemme think about it.” You move just your eyes up to meet the helmet and he clears his throat before he answers, nodding “Okay.”

[aelfgiure]

You were getting annoyed.

Surviving the accident had been the easy part. The recovery, on the other hand, was turning out to be a complicated, annoying bitch and a half. It wasn't the physical therapy, (which truly, entirely, sucked ass) or the surgeries to repair things as they healed, or even the medications you had to take that made your life miserable. All of that was expected, and you were up to dealing with it.

No, the worst part of it all was the fucking goddamn porch pirates. With your mobility limited, you had taken to getting groceries and such delivered. Unfortunately, you couldn't get to the door in time to rescue some of your orders, and the mannerless, morally impaired fuckwanglers had started to stalk your house, just waiting for the next delivery.

This was unacceptable. You were going to Do Something about this, because goddamn it, those fuckers were taking things like groceries, toiletries, stuff you needed to, ya know, goddamn well survive, and it was getting expensive. Plus it jacked up your blood pressure a fair bit and that was making the doctor get all twitchy again. This resolution led you to browsing through the interwebs, looking at package lockboxes, secure delivery services, door cameras, stuff like that. Then an interesting article popped up, on one of the more outré conspiracy sites, about random disappearances. It seems that porch pirates stopped at a house to grab a box - then vanished.

You did more research into this. Turns out, it was being kept fairly quiet in the respectable media, simply because it wasn't easily explained. You had to call in a couple of favors to get some of the information, but damn, this was creepytastic. All the pirates had other packages in their cars, from other places they had hit up, addresses that could be traced and confirmed as legitimate. The common denominator was the location of the abandoned vehicles. Every one was in front of an unoccupied house.

There was a place at the end of the cul-de-sac, not far from where you lived, surrounded by overgrown bushes and scrubby trees. The lawn was overgrown and shaggy, and the porch had fliers and papers piled up, obviously neglected. You looked it over, noting the grimy windows, the moss-covered stonework, the sad remnants of a once lovely garden, and decided it would work.

Beer and pizza can buy many favors among friends, and it wasn't a huge ask for you to get a crew together to tidy up the old place, just enough to make it look... less abandoned. Now, with a shabby respectability restored, you sent a package there yourself and watched as one of the pirates swooped in to take it. You hoped they would enjoy the fecal samples, you snickered to yourself. Now, all you could do was watch and wait.

You established a routine: start the coffee, make the breakfast, sit out on your porch to enjoy the morning, then limp inside to do your exercises while you watched the abandoned house. Nothing happened for a week, but you hadn't expected instant results. Besides, you had nothing better to do, and this at least made the physical therapy bearable.

It was a rainy morning, clammy and foggy, when you saw the Amazon box sitting there, tucked close to the front door under the awning to protect it from the rain. You hadn't heard a delivery truck go by since the one that dropped off your essentials package, the one that you had been fortunate enough to see coming and be there at the door to collect it. The fucking pirate did the slow roll by in their soccer mom minivan, and you cheerfully flipped them off, feeling vindictively triumphant that for once, you got the goods without a major headache.

Now, a lone box sat on the porch down the street. You kept indoors, the rain making the porch less pleasant, and not wanting to scare off the fucking thieves before whatever happened, well, HAPPENED. You'd been a hunter before the accident, so you were used to waiting and watching, staying hidden. This was no different from the deer blind, only now, you weren't the hunter. You were just watching.

The minivan cruised by slowly, taking their time to scan the neighborhood. They had the balls to pull into the driveway and wait for a few minutes before casually sauntering up to the porch like they owned the place, reaching out for the box.

Instead, the box reached out for them. You watched in horrified fascination as the box suddenly split open to reveal a toothy, gaping mouth. Before the thief could react, a long, impossibly long tongue licked out, wrapped around the stunned person, and pulled them inside. There was a violent wobbling of the box, as if there was a struggle inside, and then a trickle of blood. The tongue poked out to lick up the blood, and then it was just a box again.

Huh.

Taking a risk, you toss on your old dressing gown and limp down the street. The box just sat there, looking like a box. You approached cautiously, heart pounding.

"Hey, I saw you eat that jerk." You keep your voice low, barely audible over the rain. "It may not be nice of me, but thank you. Wanna have some coffee, come in and get warmed up?"

The box ripples, shifts into a very large cat. "Mrrow."'

It follows you to your house, and shifts into a more or less human form once the door closes. It stretches, yawning with a mouth that opens unnaturally wide, and grins at you. "You mentioned coffee?"

"Please, this way. Cream? Sugar?" you're as gracious a hostess as you can be with your limitations and the - well, not a person, but an entity - accepts with every evidence of enjoyment.

"So, what can I do for you, human? I appreciate your boldness in inviting me in, especially after you saw me feed." their voice is rough, and shifts in tone and register as if they're swapping through different sets of vocal cords at random. "And I also appreciate the coffee and cooked food. Raw gets tedious if it's all the time."

You explain the issue while you gather up the dishes and stack them in the dishwasher. How porch pirates were a Thing. How their actions were impacting people who really couldn't afford it, in addition to the few that were just inconvenienced. How you had been struggling to keep yourself fed and maintained while you recovered, and the additional burden of theft was adding to your pain.

"I don't have much, but I've got a spare room, and I'll cook," you offer. "Just spend time on the porch when I'm expecting a delivery, and deal with those fuckers. I honestly don't care that you eat them, I spent two weeks living on what I could forage from my yard because they kept stealing my groceries."

The mimic ponders this. You offer more coffee, and they accept, sipping thoughtfully, fingers drumming on the table in odd rhythms from the interesting number of fingers that come and go.

"This is good coffee," they comment. "Keep the thermos full for me, I'll stay. If my kin need refuge in a hurry, they can come here, yes?"

You smile, a weight falling off your shoulders that you hadn't realized was there until it was gone. "Yes, of course! Um, what should I call you?"

It thinks about that for a moment. "Is Totes a good enough name for now? I'll need to learn more about this human-ing thing."

That makes you grin, and you shake their hand, marveling at the fascinating textures of the skin, the odd fluctuation of temperatures as they shift ever so slightly.

"It's fine. You might even say it's Totes Awesome."

Mimics begin imitating Amazon packages, nesting outside abandoned houses to lure in and consume their new prey; Porch Pirates.

[lavampira]

hi dani beloved! let's gooo bubblegum bitch, royalty, choccy milk, spicy mayo, and moss-covered dino bones bc i enjoy talking to you more and we're going on a forest walk

ty azia 🥺🖤

always always love our convos!! and happily going along for a forest walk, putting a cool rock from it in your pocket <:

[newpacificarcology]

Hive: *have an overall aesthetic that shows in their chitinous armor and small amount of clothing and architect* Reed: I am going to be the comfiest motherfucker in the hive brood.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

dove down my rabbit hole of wips and one of my wips isnt a wip anymore! so here, have some gay shit....

“Kelly wants to get married in the woods, I want to get married in Midvale. So, apparently, our wedding will just happen via Zoom. Her in the woods, me at the beach. Ain’t that just fucking grand?”

Alex comes through the door like a hurricane covered in leather. Her helmet lands on Kara’s counter loudly. Her keys haphazardly thrown somewhere in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Then have two weddings.”

Alex follows the voice and her eyes zero in on her sister’s best friend.

Lena is sitting on the floor of Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized sweater. Her dark hair spilling down her shoulders softly. A hand wrapping around a wine glass, the other typing on her laptop, not even jumping in the slightest at the commotion that is Alex’s entrance.

Alex plops down on the couch sighing loudly, not even batting an eye at this utterly domestic scene that is her sister washing the dishes with Lena Luthor on the floor of her apartment.

Lena doesn’t comment at the Danvers’ Sisters antics and Alex doesn’t call them out on the ridiculousness that Lena and Kara are still keen on keeping up.

The three of them already well desensitized to one another’s preferred brand of bullshitery.

“You know, sometimes I forget you're a rich-ass bitch and then you say shit like that and suddenly, I remember,” Alex says, smoothly snatching the wine from Lena’s hand.

She finishes the entire glass in one gulp and Lena rolls her eyes. Alex had finally proposed to Kelly the other week and well, that meant this week all of them had fallen victim to the Olsen-Danvers wedding debacle. It seems today isn’t the day that that whole dilemma is going to stop.

The wedding, of course, was still a few months away, but both parties were stressing about it as if it was going to happen immediately the next day.

Kara swoops in then, mussing up Alex’s hair, earning her an annoyed Hey stop it! before putting down another wine glass and pouring for Lena. Her arms are still wet from washing the dishes.

Lena murmurs her thanks and continues what she was saying, “Well, since you’ve finally remembered that I’m a billionaire. Let me pay for two weddings.”

Alex chokes on the wine.

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

Lena continues typing, ignoring Alex’s shock, you’d think she didn’t just offer to pay for a wedding.

“Well, I mean, I’m never gonna get married,” Lena explains, “but if you let me do this, I can brag around that I’ve paid for two weddings. Not to mention I’m gonna make two brides very, very happy.”

“Or,” Kara interjects, lowering herself on the opposite side of the couch, perfect for Lena to lean back between Kara’s legs and lay her head on the side of her thigh. “You can just wait for Kelly to get here,” Kara says, pointedly. “Talk it out like normal adults and reach a compromise.”

Kara’s hands start to snake their way from Lena’s hair to Lena’s shoulders, massaging, all too aware that Lena won’t stop whatever it is she’s working on on her laptop till everybody gets here.

Lena lets herself melt and closes her eyes, sighing as Kara’s fingers dip at the junction of her neck and shoulder with just the right amount of pressure.

“I don’t wanna get married in the woods, Kara.”

Lena opens one eye to take a peek at Alex, who looks exasperated, her eyes pleading, gulping down another glass of wine.

“Don’t tell me,” Kara replies. “Tell Kelly.”

“The bugs, Kara,” Alex moans. “Imagine the bugs, and the moss and the ughhh.”

She dramatically thumps the back of her head on the couch.

“Imagine the soil. Clumpy wet soil. Eurgh. Ew. What if I fall face first in that? What if I trip over a stupid tree root in my heels? In my wedding dress?!”

“Alex, you don’t even have a dress yet,” Kara deadpans.

“I thought you were gonna wear a suit,” Lena adds.

“You two suck.” Alex pouts.

****

The rest of their friends arrive and Kara finally succeeds in prying Lena’s work laptop away from her. Alex was already teasing the line from tipsy to drunk by the time Kelly comes through the door.

“Let’s get married in Vegas!!!!” Is how Alex decides to greet her fiance.

Kelly laughs, gives her a peck then answers, “As much as that sounds like a very convenient wedding, I don’t think Eliza would appreciate that, baby.”

Alex frowns at being rejected, sags against the couch and crosses her arms. Why does Kelly always have to be right?

“How much has she had to drink?” Kelly turns to Kara.

“Uhh ask Lena. She made her switch to whiskey.”

Lena—who Kelly thinks was way too busy nuzzling against Kara’s neck to even answer her question—mumbles something that sounds like “S’was just two glasses.”

Kelly just shakes her head, makes Alex drink a glass of water. Her ring making a clink against the glass.

“Alright, what if,” Nia sing-songs, eyes sparkling with mischief, “we just settle this whole wedding thing with Charades?”

Nia claps her hands together like some gameshow host and Kelly takes a deep breath through the nose.

She’s been to enough Game Nights to know where this is headed.

Everybody else was intoxicated enough to accept the suggestion as a grand idea, not at all even thinking that: Hey, isn’t this something we should all take seriously?? Maybe ask the brides what they want, maybe???

Kara nods enthusiastically, agreeing immediately, “Oh!! That’s a great idea! Fun and fair at the same time!”

“Olsen vs. Danvers. Brides get to pick their teams.”

Nia pulls a white board out of nowhere, uncaps a marker and writes “Team Danvers”, “Team Olsen” separated by a neat line in the middle.

“Are we really letting Nia take charge of our wedding venue?" She hears Alex whisper from where she has her tucked at the crook of her neck.

Kelly sneaks a glance at the chaos happening before their eyes; Brainy already claiming to be on Kelly’s team, J’onn shaking his head opting to be the game scorer instead and refusing to participate, somebody’s shouting about: NIA, DREAM PROJECTIONS AT CHARADES IS CHEATING!!!!

Guess this is their life now.

Kelly smirks, boops Alex on the nose and says, “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?”

****

Alex loses by three points.

“How was I supposed to know you were gesturing 'Transformers'!?!” She barks at Kara, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“I pointed at Nia!” Kara huffs, incredulous at the fact that her sister is blaming her.

Nia lost them a point too!

“What does Nia even have to do with it???” Alex’s voice grows higher in pitch. Her brows furrow in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Trans, Alex. Trans.”

“Oh my God,” Alex groans. “How are you this dumb?”

And that was the story of how Kelly got her dream wedding.

****

The frenzy finally dies down, some time between Nia making up another drinking game and J’onn making her sit back down. A movie that none of them were watching provides a background noise to the almost lazy atmosphere. Kelly and Alex were pressed close on the far end of the couch, enjoying the temporary quiet.

“Guess we’re getting married in the woods, huh?” Alex murmurs.

“I guess we are,” Kelly whispers back. Alex beams at her, grinning dopily at the thought of finally getting the ending they deserve. It would be the perfect day, she has no doubt about that. No matter where they are. It would be perfect because they got there together.

Alex can’t wait.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Alex continues to smile stupidly, nudges her nose to Kelly’s.

“Just— I don’t really care where we get married, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelly raises an amused brow at her.

“Mm-hm. So long as you’re the one walking down the aisle.”

Alex presses their lips together, breathes Kelly in deep and for the first time that night, she feels that the future isn’t so scary, even though there is still a very large possibility that she might trip over a tree root on her wedding day.

Somebody interrupts their kiss.

“She’s only saying that ‘cos she lost.”

“Shut up, Luthor.”

****

“Text me when you get home!”

Lena hears Kara call loudly after her sister, before closing the door. Game Night has officially ended and as usual she’s still here. She’ll always be here, she thinks for a brief moment. The thought holding more depth than it should.

Kara didn’t even question her when everybody began filing out and Lena just started picking up the discarded dirty plates and walking them to the sink. They’re well past the point of asking each other if the other would stay over.

It was already some unspoken rule.

Already well past the point of Lena wanting to ask Kara what the hell it is they’re doing.

She’s bent over the sink, scrubbing—Kara doesn’t own a dishwasher for the sole reason that she finds doing the dishes therapeutic—when Lena takes a glance over her shoulder.

Kara is sitting on a high stool near the counter, casually flicking through her phone. It was Lena’s turn to do the dishes tonight. Once upon a time her doing the dishes would have resulted in a fight. “I can superspeed the dishes. Why would you even want to do them?” A statement that would be met with an eye roll.

Kara has learned not to fight her on it again, after around the 7th time that Lena had stubbornly insisted and Supergirl got doused with dishwashing liquid.

And now, it’s become some sort of routine, Kara does the dishes after lunch and Lena does the dishes after dinner. Oh, how the paparazzi would kill for this—Lena Luthor Knows What A Sponge Is?

“Is it true when you told Alex you’re never going to get married?”

Kara decides to break their quiet.

“Yeah, pretty certain about that one, why?” Lena turns around, cocks a curious brow. If she’s being honest she’s beyond certain that she’s not going to get married. She always jokes about how she’s married to L-Corp but it isn’t till now that she realizes how true that is, and...how lonely.

“I don’t know,” Kara murmurs, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I just like the idea of you getting married, I guess.”

“What?” Lena chuckles at that; genuinely confused but still curious.

“Well, I mean—” Kara wobbles through her words.

“I guess, I just— I like the idea of you walking down the aisle...in a white dress,” Kara muses.

Then, “Or a suit!!” she quickly amends. “If you wanna wear a suit, that is. That can totally be arranged, you know?” Kara waves her hand around and it’s like now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

And Lena’s just standing there, water still dripping from her elbow, unsure of how to feel about Kara imagining her getting married. Quite an incredulous scene isn’t it? Her getting married? What a crazy thing to say, an even crazier scenario to imagine!

She snaps out of it, realizing Kara’s still rambling.

“I have no objections whatsoever with that, if you wanna wear a suit. And yeah, you know? I just— I like that idea. I like the idea of you dancing to your wedding song. The idea of you exchanging your vows, the idea of you-”

“Kara,” Lena decides to put a stop to it, since it’s clearly evident Kara won’t be stopping any time soon. And Lena's feeling way too many things that she doesn’t want to feel at the moment. She’s sure that she’s going to feel more, if she doesn’t put a stop to it herself.

“I’m well aware that it’s the best friend’s job to help with the bride’s wedding,” She says, “but, darling don’t you think you’re putting just a bit too much effort into this? Certainly seems like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

At that, Kara’s cheeks turn a light pink, squirming sheepishly under Lena’s questioning gaze.

Shouldn’t Kara be thinking about her own wedding? How beautiful she would look walking down the aisle. How her blonde hair would look so nicely with her dress. How happy she would finally be after finding someone she could share her life with. Not that Lena's been thinking about those kinds of things. No, of course not. That’d be hypocritical of her at this point. Why would she even— Why were they even talking about this again???

Lena tries to rein in it, tries to focus on Kara again; hands finally finding a dry towel, hesitantly walking into Kara’s space to hear the blonde more clearly.

“Well, I mean- Like I said, I do really like the idea of you getting married,” Kara repeats herself slowly.

And before Lena can come any closer, “Like the idea of you getting married…to me. More specifically,” Kara adds more quietly.

“What?”

Lena stands frozen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard y- Kara, did you just?”

Lena’s heart is pounding away in her chest. Did she hear her right? Did Kara really just—

Lena’s a step away from her and Kara uses this to her advantage. She pulls Lena closer, tugging at her wrist, the towel dropping from Lena’s hands. Kara summons enough willpower to stare into Lena’s eyes.

“I like the idea of you getting married to me, Lena Luthor.”

“Kara, I’m sorry- What?” Lena jerks away from her, the words finally landing.

“Is that a no?”

Kara lets her go. She can’t focus on Lena’s heartbeat to assess the situation more. Kara’s own heart is betraying her, drumming so loudly in her ears.

“Uh- no, that's definitely not a no?” says Lena hesitantly, eyes wide, breathing nervously. She turns away from Kara for a minute to take a breath, hands fidgeting about.

She whirls around again to face, mutters, “You do realize marriages are for people who are—”

She pauses.

How do you exactly phrase that wedding proposals are for people who are actually in some kind of romantic relationship? And not for people who casually stay over every goddamn Thursday without fail?And okay, maybe sometimes, in a much different reality, would willingly commit fratricide to save the other? And in an also much different reality, willingly expose a secret identity to save the other?

Lena can’t find the right words.

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Lena scoffs, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Marriage is for people who are actually dating each other.”

Kara takes her sarcasm as a good sign and pulls her in again.

“Well,” Kara begins. She can hear Lena’s heart thumping erratically, now that Kara’s gotten her bearings.

“We can always have our first date after the wedding, right?”

Aren’t they well past the point of dating anyway?

She’s got Lena standing between her legs now, her hands wrapping around her waist.

“First date and honeymoon all in one. That sounds great, doesn’t it? I can fly you wherever you want, Paris, Maldives, hell I even have a Fortress in the Arctic, if you’re into that.”

Lena stares at her, blinks once, twice; shakes her head and lets out a noise between a laugh and a scoff.

“Kara Zor-El, you are one ridiculous woman,” She breathes, putting a hand on Kara’s cheek. Because what else is there to say? This whole conversation really is ridiculous. But at the same time Lena feels like she’s floating? Like this may be the best moment of her life, and of course, it’s going to be ridiculous. This is Kara she’s dealing with, after all.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Kara reveals this to be just some sort of joke.

But the way her blue eyes are piercing through Lena’s, so earnest and so warm, argues otherwise.

“So, what do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lena asks, still unbelieving. This is beyond crazy. They’ve fought aliens and monsters and traveled through time but this? This is just beyond crazy.

“Lena, do I look like I’m joking? And besides, you’d already offered to pay for two weddings, why not pay for our two weddings, instead?”

She shakes her head again, let’s herself fall closer to Kara, lets out a laugh against her neck.

“Mm. You want a Kryptonian ceremony too?”

“Yeah.” Kara’s voice turns shy. “If that’s alright by you.”

“Of course, that’s alright by me. I’d be honored.”

Her heart feels more than full at the thought of Kara wanting to share that part of her with Lena. She’s always had some doubts whenever the topic of Kara’s Kryptonian heritage arises, always half-afraid she’s overstepped on something that isn’t hers.

But looks like there was nothing to fear all along.

“So, we’re getting married, huh?” Kara wiggles her brows, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes. Mm-hm,” Lena hums against her. “I do. I’d marry you. Let’s get married.”

“Seal it with a kiss?"

****

“Hi.”

Lena blearily opens her eyes, follows the soft voice, her bare back being caressed by the sun filtering through Kara’s curtains.

“Hi,” She whispers back. All this feels much too like a fever dream. She’s half-tempted to pinch herself just to check. She’s woken up beside Kara a million times before but she’ll never get used to the sight of soft golden hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kara gives her a soft peck and the feel of her lips sends Lena reeling.

The previous night was a whirlwind in her mind’s eye. The moment Lena murmured her 'Yes, please.', Kara kissed her passionately. Once they broke away, Kara had zipped around the apartment, Lena too dazed to even ask what it was Kara was looking for.

She watched as Kara tore off a keychain from one of her bags, curled the keyring to fit Lena’s finger and whispered, “This’ll do. For now.”

Kara had kissed her knuckles reverently, her lips making Lena’s blood sing in her veins. The feel of mangled metal fitted just for her left hand is an imprint on her soul. A promise of more to come.

They didn’t make it out of the kitchen the first time. Kara had lifted her by the waist and set her down on the kitchen counter. Which was a good thing, because Lena couldn’t feel her legs after.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom the second time either. She had tackled Kara onto the couch, pinning her wrists together, licking at the shell of Kara’s ear. “My turn now,” Lena had whispered. The way Kara shivered underneath her was enough of a reward. How long had they been waiting for this?

Flashes of last night had her hips bucking slightly unto Kara’s leg sandwiched between her own, but before it could escalate further...

“I have exciting news to share,” Kara tells her.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kara hums, now nosing at Lena’s hair.

“What is it?” Lena asks.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh you are?” Lena plays along.

“Yes. I’m getting married to my best friend,” whispers Kara, almost conspiratorially. “How cool is that?”

Kara looks giddy with excitement and Lena knows she’s mirroring that exact same expression right now.

“Mm. Very cool, darling.”

Kara giggles and they trade more lazy kisses before Lena breaks away to breathe.

“Quite a coincidence though,” Lena husks out against Kara’s lips.

“Oh really? Why?” Kara asks, tries to keep a serious neutral face despite her nose scrunching up in that cute smile that Lena can’t resist

“I’m also getting married,” Lena confides, “To my best friend," she adds, eyes flashing. "Isn’t that great?”

“Very great.” Kara nods slowly, blonde hair falling into her face, a hand running through dark tresses.

“I love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s softly.

“I love you, too.” Kara kisses her harder then, her hands lazily wandering along Lena’s skin.

They lie there quietly for a few moments, basking in the morning glow and then, “Alex will kill us.”

Lena snorts, twists in the sheets and says, “I think your sister is too busy planning her wedding to even think about plotting our murder.”

read follow-up here.

[inubaki]

The smell was as wretched as the carcass was revolting. From the corpse’s size, it became obvious to Adam now, that this plant must have scheduled feedings and likely digested slowly to preserve energy. All while suffocating the victim in a floral scented fog emanating from its own stomach acids.

At this revelation, Adam looked Lucifer dead in the eye as the other caught his wrist. “You based this off of Lilith didn’t ya?”

The look on Lucifer’s face was so fucking punchable right then. Staggering for words while Adam only sank deeper into the eroding piles of awful. His robes were a lost cause as was his patience as Adam yanked Lucifer down to his eye level and pointed his holy beam downward with his other hand. “All the more reason then” he said coolly and fired.

From the thick fog came a harsh light followed by a rippling quake. Every on looker cowered from the heavenly light and staggered to flee as the ground gave way. Their vision obstructed, the upper class patrons were well on their way to full scale panic as sound of their king’s anger came followed by the sound of something tipping over.

When the smog cleared, the chaos and violence expected was hindered by the unexpected sight of…green….

“ADAM, YOU SON-OF A BITCH!!!”

The tree still stood, though, more at an angle from what could be visibly recognizable. The ground expanding an entire yard around the once pristine fencing was crumpled, but enriched in moss and other stages of saplings. Sinners slowly approached, warily to marvel and gawk as the moss spawned into the beginnings of blue flowers.

Lucifer’s damn tree was vibrating visibly with distress and confusion. Its ‘food’ had dissolved away to something foreign to meat and it filled its stomach to the brim. The force of something had rattled its foundation and it’s branches shuttered like the sound of rattling chains. It was only quelled by Lucifer’s swift hand to its side. Easing it with his familiar magic and ‘feeding’ from himself now that its stomach was full of earth lilies. An extra stab of petty that didn’t go unnoticed.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TRIED BLESSING MY PRECIOUS TREE!!” Lucifer didn’t know whether to be impressed or slightly more furious. That the tiny human with the short attention span even knowing the complexities of blessings at all was borderline unbelievable. Weaponizing holy engery had been Lucifer’s first exception but this… this was entirely an another level of annoying!

“Hey! I kept my word of not harming your ‘precious’ hellborns!” Adam snapped back. Climbing skillfully from the confused tree’s stomach, freshly clean but as naked as the day he was born. Adam, dapped his halo back over his head with no other place to put it. Sinners were gawking and Adam let him. Let them enjoy something other then Lucifer’s pale ass as Adam surveyed for his packages. “My tree! Is already perfect!!” “A perfect bitch maybe. I see the resemblance now”. Adam picked up his phone, the angelic tech untouched but his packages were no where. “Fuck….” he cursed. Sighing he waved at some goat-beast rabbit thing. “Hey! Have ya seen some packages-“. “Adam stop bleaching the eyes of my people!” “Who’s bleaching who? Ya pasty greek yogurt asshole.” Adam felt the tingles of Lucifer’s magic and looked down to see the covering of… “oh ha ha! You think you’re so funny!” Adam pulled at the end fabric making up some demon pig onesie while Lucifer fixed his own outfit with a wave of his own hand. Adam had the notion to slap that stupid hat off his head in front of everyone. Till his eyes caught the sight of blue flowers still slowly emerging from the ground. He flushed, recognizing the exact shade of blue his blessings had taken. It killed his rage leaving a hollowness at the notion that he could fuck this up so readily. He bit his lip and looked on at the tree and back at Lucifer whom wouldn’t meet his eyes. Hurt? Pissed? Adam felt a tug of regret that his alternative approach still could have done some damage. “…. Sorry.” It felt weighted like an unused muscle on his tongue. “It’s a..ahh… cool tree. Besides all ‘that’. I hope I didn’t hurt it…”. He looked away uncomfortably and crossed his arms, waiting for the blow out. Waiting for what he should have expected to be the inevitable.

Plants had been the right call. The way Adam’s entire face light up hit Lucifer directly in the fits of nostalgia and coveted memory. That this was Adam. There was no doubting it now. The first sight that had entrenched himself to humanity had been that look. Suddenly, he wished for Lilith to be there. If only to catch even the flutter of what he was feeling. Did Adam’s forgiveness extend to her?

“This is fucking sick!!” Adam ran passed him and flocked to the closest stall with eyes a simmer. Leaving the rattled man to slowly follow, wary to allow Adam to carry him away again if things sour. “Did you make any of these?” Adam asked sticking his head into a plant’s gapping mewl and laughing he pulled it out barely in time for its jaws to snap. “Please tell me Lilith didn’t name them!! I call dibs!” Adam jumped back with a laugh as another hellish plant tried reaching for the meat satchel on his hip. Giving the first man the amazing idea to playfully hover it over every plant for their individual reactions. “Don’t tease the plants” the stale owner muttered dryly over his paper. Never looking up, with only a few signs posted in warning which no one ever listened too. On cue, the hidden veins plunged through the ground and pulled Adam directly into the air. Leaving the first man to dangle and fall into a tug of war with another thieving vain. “Hey!! Heyhehey!! That’s for Michaels asshole!!”

Lucifer bite back a snorted laugh after the minor heart attack. The plant seeming more of a snarling dog then an actual threat.

“I would ask you if you learned something but…”

“Fuck you, asshole! I’ll just make ya buy Michael a new one!!”

——

@koji-haru -if I was watching Adam’s family, I admit nothing!

[sashi-ya]

kid with female s/o kidnapping + rape (play)-rough sex for kinks deep throating, gags, collars, name calling, humiliation and end of the world au<3

Hi babe! of course!! Thank u for your request and sorry for the waiting! Enjoy! 💖💖

🔥🚫 NSFW ~ Eustass Captain Kid x F! Reader ~ Before It All Ends [Consented Rape PLAY]

tw: CONSENTED rape PLAY. It's just a fantasy reader has and Kid fulfils it for her. End of the world AU. Rough sex. Humiliation. Name calling. Face fucking. Clothes ripping. Slapping. Collars. Gagging. Mentions of Covid-19 pandemic. Fluffy ending.

a/n: Both characters have given their previous consent to the play. Yet, I know it's an extremely controversial and triggering topic, so it's ok if you don't feel comfortable with it, please do not interact. I won't take responsibility if you ignore the TWs. I have plenty of fics that don't include this type of practices for you to read. Thank u 💖~

a/n2: There is a menace the characters call "them". It is not stated in the fic if "them" are zombies, monsters, people, aliens, etc. You can chose -yet I thought about crazy mfs from a "world gov" that rules the world after the starting of the end -. (for the love of God it has nothing to do with the pronoun! It's a way to name "those things")

wc: 1,7K

Dry lips and ragged clothes.

No more water until the rains finally arrive… and even though, you are not still very sure if you are still going to be alive by that time.

The end of the world has come, people shouted. Not really the world, but the end of humanity. Humanity deserved it, though. The Covid pandemic was just the starting point, it was none compared to what came next. And it’s been all humans' fault. But, some of you have thrived to survive, despite everything. You are living your life day by day waiting for death to take you in any moment.

The cold cement under you, ruins of what someone’s house remains, it's your only refuge. That and a pretty collar the love of your life once gave to you. You play with the little heart that hangs from the red leather material of it, watching as some dogs play with some deer, right there, in front of you, in the middle of a street that once was occupied by a sea of cars.

Suddenly someone snatches from behind, a huge hand with red polish on its nails around your neck. You shout and scream, but no one listens. Of course nobody would come, of course they wouldn't…

“Let me go!” you shout. “Shh… stop shouting… or do you want themto hear you?” you freeze and stop shouting. You don’t want more menaces around you right now. He drags you to the little back streets behind your “house”, your knees get scrapped, your old, ragged clothes even more destroyed.

He finally throws you against the debris of an old wall. Your back hit the remaining bricks covered in moss and some plants. “I’ve been watching you closely, you know?” a red-haired man, tall and strong, covered in wounds and scars, tells you while towering you.

Your lips tremble, today’s the day. “Today I’ll leave this shitty world behind” you think, but there is something inside you that’s absolutely not convinced of giving up… and so you decide to stand up and escape.

But you can’t.

He is way faster and stronger, and before you could ever run away he has already put his huge boot over your chest. “Where are you going, little bitch?” he asks, laughing after with a sadistic grin. You pant, you try to gasp for air, but the boot is so damn heavy.

“You aren’t going anywhere. You are less than them, you are just a little hole for me to cum inside”.

He takes off his foot over you, and crunches at your side. The red-haired man grabs you by your collar, pulling you up from it as if you weigh less than a feather. “Who gave you this, bitch? Huh? was your stupid boyfriend? Tell him when he is back you’ve been fucked properly before this world finally explodes”.

You cry, moving your head to the side as he comes closer and closer. His red lipstick ends up smudged all over your cheek and the sides of your mouth as he tries to kiss you. “No” you whine. “Shut the fuck up!” he commands, hitting your back against the ground.

His intrusive tongue opens its way inside your mouth, it’s difficult to breathe as he violently kisses you. Your lips end up irritated from the constant graze of his mouth and his poorly shaved chin. But your lips aren’t the only parts that he kisses, and by pulling your head back from your hair he exposes your neck to his mouth.

He bites, he kisses and marks your flesh, down your neck to your collar bones. “Let me see your tits, bitch” he shouts, laughing like crazy and ripping your shirt in two. Bouncing breasts before his eyes, got him drooling. He spits on your nipples, using her hand to smear it everywhere. Your nipples get hard, you squeeze your eyelids, why is this so arousing? he is forcing you, why are you liking this?...

He bites and pulls from your nipple, making you scream in both pain and pleasure. “Stop shouting, you little whiny whore” he shouts covering your mouth with his huge hands. You only moan and whine under his muzzling motion and as you do, you watch him lower the zipper of his old ragged yellow pants.

“Now you are gonna give that mouth a better use” he states, lifting you up from your hair. You kneel on the ground, feeling as the many rocks get embedded on your knees, at this point you are sure they might be bleeding. “Open” he commands, but you keep your lips sealed. He shakes your head, violently. “OPEN” he says while sticking his fingers inside your mouth.

Your saliva drips from the side and wets his fingers as he uses his other hand to guide his dick into your mouth. Throbbing member menacing to go deep inside your mouth, you swear your jaw would probably get dislocated by the size of his dick.

He slaps your cheek with his shaft, salty pre cum strings forming from the tip of it. He is so aroused, so horny, so excited to fuck your mouth… and he does. Deep inside it goes, pumping, hitting your throat, making you gag. The last traces of the mascara you decided to wear that afternoon, even during the apocalypse, stain the tears that form on the corner of your eyes.

You gag, you even get a little nauseous by such violent assault. “Good girl, taking it all inside! That’s a good little bitch” he encourages to keep getting deepthroated by him as he slaps one of your breasts. And he keeps pouncing on you, one thrust, two… three… “Are you thirsty, little bitch?” you look at him, already understanding what he meant by that. Your victimized sight gets him on edge, and as he licks his lips, he moves your head back and forth pulling from your hair.

“Drink it all, slut”

The sticky warm product of his orgasm travels down your throat as he releases himself. Thirsty or not, you have been fed by his juices and even if you thought this was enough, oh no, it wasn’t… not at all.

He pushes you back, cleaning the remains of his cum from the commissure of your lips. “Good girl” he says, as makes you lick his index finger. “Let me see if you are ready for me” he utters, while ripping your shorts off. “No… my last pair…” you cry. The red-haired man laughs at your disgrace and once again throws you against the ground.

“Spread your legs like the good obedient bitch you are” he commands, but you close your legs even more. “No!” you shout. “Fine… then if you don’t really want to cooperate I might have to call them and I can assure you that’s gonna be way worse” he threatens you, and he is right… if they come, you are lost. Completely lost.

Slowly, crying and nodding you spread your legs, your panties are rags at this point, a simple pull and they will probably disintegrate… you know, during the apocalypse there aren’t many Victoria’s Secret shops open. “I see you are dripping wet, bitch!” he points out, aware of how your core has reacted to such degrading but hot behavior.

And then again, the guilt… “I must be losing my mind”

He rips off your lingerie, and leaves you exposed in the middle of a deserted street, in the middle of the last days of earth, your whole anatomy ready to be devoured or forcibly fucked… at this point you don’t even care, perhaps this could make you feel anything before it all ends.

His fingers penetrate your entrance, sliding in and out with the honeys of your arousal. At first you just mumble cold repetitive “no” but then they turn into a mix of cry for help and the need for him to go on, rough so rough, to go on until you come. But he won’t make you come just by fingering you, he wants to fuck you so hard…

“Don’t come until I fill you up with my dick, you little bitch” he utters, and just as fast as he ripped your pants off he is in between your legs spreading them as open as possible for his huge muscular body to fit. He slaps his once again hard dick over your clit, making you squirm, fixing his orange deep eyes into yours.

And inside he goes, he does not wait, he does not do it softly. He penetrates you up until the deepest place possible. You feel like ripping in half, your walls stretch and clench around his dick as he pumps faster and faster. “Take it inside, take it all” he shouts. You are unable to even speak, you just moan and whine. It feels so good and yet so wrong, being forced and humiliated and still enjoying it must be sick, but you can’t help it.

His strong arms on each side of your head as he fucks you rough, you bite his right wrist, and he doesn’t care. “Babe, fuck… can I?” he asks. “Kid, yes don’t you dare stop… fill the fuck out of me” you beg, sex so intense you two forgot about your “forced sex fantasy”.

“Babe, I love… you” he mumbles when gives you the last thrusts.

“I… I love you… too” you whine as you reach climax, burying your heels into the small of his back…

Climax, a wonderful so needed orgasm leaves you both deceased. You rest your head over Kid’s chest. The sun above you scolds your skin even more than before everything changed, more than when the world wasn’t ending… “I’m sorry for ripping your clothes, babe” Kid excuses himself. “It’s ok, darling. I really liked your acting. Even during the apocalypse you manage to fulfil my fantasies” you tell him, kissing the tip of his nose.

“It’s my job, to protect you and make you happy…oh and by the way, I found some new clothes and clean water. A guy named Killer shared them with me. That’s why I ripped your old clothes...”

“You are my sunshine, Kid. I’d have let myself die at this point if it weren’t for you… Now let’s go, what if “they” come?”

“You are right, let’s go…”

[rubysunnday]

it’s a bugs life | bridgerton!sis

A/N: I. AM. BACK, BITCHES!!!

Gregory Bridgerton had a slight obsession with animals and bugs. He loved the bugs he found in the garden of Bridgerton house, often collecting the caterpillars and spiders to put in shoeboxes that then lived in his room. Most of his family refused to go into his room when there were bugs within its walls - Gregory had a habit of forgetting to close the doors or lids of whatever receptacle he’d put the bugs in and they often escaped for freedom, ending up in, normally, Daphne’s room - but Colin and Y/N were the two exceptions.

Colin, thanks to his numerous travels, had a soft spot for animals and bugs, like Gregory, and was the main sibling who helped Gregory in capturing and looking after the bugs they found in the garden.

Y/N didn’t mind bugs. She did, however, hate spiders and refused to be in the same room as one - there was an infamous incident a few years back where she’d fallen down the stairs in a desperate attempt to escape a spider, narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the floor thanks to Anthony’s diving catch.

Colin and Y/N’s unfazed nature towards bugs meant that Gregory favoured them both when he need help capturing a bug or animal. Y/N had been roped in to numerous muddy and rainy escapades to collect frogs or worms - she’d ruined many dresses much to her mother’s annoyance - but she secretly enjoyed getting dirty and cold and being able to see Gregory admire the bug in his room and name it something ridiculous. 

The funniest bug incident had involved Anthony, Benedict and a baby bird.

 It’d been a particularly stormy day and Anthony had forbidden Gregory from even thinking of going outside to collect any type of bug. Anthony had sat down in his chair with a satisfied smile, knowing that his little brother wasn’t going to come back in covered in mud with a dozen new bugs.

Naturally Gregory hadn’t listened.

Y/N had been quietly reading a book in the main room when she’d noticed her youngest brother sneak down the stairs, several shoeboxes in hand. She looked over at Anthony, who was having a passionate ‘discussion’ (”It’s not an argument, Y/N,” Anthony said, whilst glaring daggers at Colin, “it’s a discussion”.) with Colin about why he couldn’t just flounce off to Wales for the week, and shut her book, quietly sneaking out the second door and following after Gregory.

“Gregory,” Y/N hissed as she caught him struggling to unlock the back door in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

Gregory turned around and batted his eyes, looking like an angelic, innocent angel and not a mad, bug obsessed annoying human. “There’s a frog.”

“You have a frog,” Y/N replied, crossing her arms. “Why do you need this one?”

Gregory paused. “Well, there isn’t actually a frog,” he tried again. ��I was looking out the window and spotted this baby bird on the ground, hiding under a bush.”

“Bird’s like the rain, Gregory,” Y/N reminded him, pushing herself up onto the counter near the door. “Besides, its mum will probably come back soon.”

“I don’t think it will,” Gregory said, leaning in to Y/N as if he was about to whisper a huge secret. “Its wing looks broken and I saw a fox.”

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes. She needed to not be so easily roped into things. She needed to build up a wall that couldn’t be broken and that no one could -

“Fine,” she said, jumping off the counter and grabbing the gardener’s jacket from the hook by the door. She pulled it on, buttoning it up as high as it would go and pulled the hood up. “Fine, come on.”

The wind ripped the door out of Y/N’s hand and it slammed against the wall. She ushered Gregory out the house and then forced the door shut, pulling it against the wind. Gregory quickly made a beeline to a bush near the side gate, kneeling down in the wet, muddy grass and setting his shoebox underneath the bush.

Y/N, knowing her dress was already ruined by this point, knelt down next to him, feeling the mud seeping through the material of her dress. The hood of the jacket had been blown down and her hair was soaking wet and falling out of it’s intricate styling.

Underneath the bush, cheeping nervously at them, was a tiny, baby bird. It’s left wing was hanging down slightly and looked to be at an awkward angle. Y/N reached her hands out and gently held out a finger for the bird to inspect. It hopped back a few steps, nervous of the newcomer in front of it. After a moment it hopped forward and cheeped, nudging Y/N’s finger.

Y/N took that as a sign and cupped her hands together, gently scooping the bird up and placing it in the shoebox which Gregory was holding out for her.

“Gregory!” 

Gregory swung around, falling on to his bum, at the sudden roar of his name. Anthony was marching towards them, struggling to keep his rain jacket on, holding the hood over his head as he glared at Gregory.

“I told you not to come outside!” Anthony yelled, pointing a threatening finger at Gregory.

Gregory looked down at the ground. “But -”

“No, there is no excuse -” Anthony trailed off as Y/N turned around, cradling the shoebox against her and protecting it from the worst of the rain. “Y/N.”

She gave him a wince of a smile. “Hello.”

Anthony looked like he might explode. “Inside, now.” He pointed a finger to the door but didn’t look away from his rebellious siblings. “Now.”

Gregory quickly stood up and ran inside, slipping on the step as he took the corner too fast. Y/N slowly stood up, shivering as the rain and wind began to get colder.

“Y/N, what were you thinking?!” Anthony yelled as she stepped around a puddle and approached him. “Out of all people -”

Anthony’s rant was cut off again as the biggest clap of thunder Y/N had heard in years went off directly over their heads. Y/N flinched and slipped on the grass, reaching an arm out to Anthony, refusing to let go of the shoe box.

Anthony grabbed her arm with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist, catching her before she fell into the mud. As soon as Y/N regained her footing, he marched her inside, pushing her inside the door and then slamming the door shut behind them.

Benedict was drying Gregory off with a towel and looked up as Anthony slammed the door. He let out a snort of laughter at his bedraggled brother and quickly looked away at Anthony’s scathing glare, busying himself with drying Gregory’s hair.

“What were you two thinking?” Anthony yelled, throwing his hands up. 

Y/N turned away from Anthony, only half listening. She set the shoebox on the counter and gently lifted the lid. 

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Anthony snapped. He went to continue his rant but was cut off by a quiet cheep. Anthony closed his eyes. “Please tell me that wasn’t a bird.”

“It wasn’t a bird,” Y/N and Gregory replied in unison, both giving the other a knowing smirk as Anthony let out a long, despairing sigh that only a big brother, who’d been putting up with his siblings for too long, could make.

Y/N picked the box up, turning around and showing her older brothers the tiny bird. “Gregory found it. It’s injured. I couldn’t leave it out there to be eaten!” Y/N exclaimed. She lowered her voice, nodding her head at Gregory. “He was going anyway, Anthony.”

Anthony took a step forward and looked down at the baby bird in the box. The bird cheeped as it noticed Anthony and hopped into a corner, burying itself in the moss.

Anthony sighed again. He looked over at Benedict, who had an arm around Gregory, the younger Bridgerton clinging to his side as he shivered.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Benedict said, shrugging. “We can get the gardener to look at it tomorrow morning.”

Anthony looked like he wanted to murder all three of his siblings. “Fine. Y/N get changed.”

And with that, Anthony took the shoe box containing the baby bird and disappeared from the kitchen.

“Did he just... did he just take the bird with him?” Y/N asked, staring after her brother with a frown.

Benedict chuckled, letting go of Gregory and wrapping a towel around Y/N’s shoulders. “He has a soft spot for animals, really,” he replied, rubbing her arms with the towel as she shivered. “Now, go get changed before you get ill.”

The baby bird was soon named ‘Anthony’ in honour of the eldest Bridgerton who had subconsciously adopted it for the few weeks it spent in his room as its wing healed. 

There had been numerous other bug incidents over the years. Y/N had fallen out of a tree trying to rescue a cat, Colin had been biting by an angry swan who’d refused to be rescued from the net it’d swam into and Gregory had broken his wrist as he chased away a fox trying to eat the chickens he’d insisted on Anthony getting for Audrey Hall.

The bug incidents tend to stay at home, however. Gregory rarely tried to collect or rescue animals or bugs from any of the garden parties of receptions he was allowed to attend - probably because he was scared of getting into trouble with the hosts.

The night of Lady Danbury’s birthday ball, however, was apparently an exception to this rule.

Y/N smiled and nodded as she listened to a lord (she had no idea what his name was) talk about politics. Colin was standing next to her and was nudging her every so often when he noticed her attention span wandering to other, more interesting things - even the chandeliers were more exciting to listen to.

Someone ran into Y/N from behind and she stumbled forward, almost dropping her glass of champagne. Colin grabbed her elbow, catching her with one hand as she turned to see who’d ran into her.

“Gregory, what -”

“Help me,” Gregory said, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her away from the group she’d been talking to.

Y/N barely managed to shove her glass into Colin’s hand as Gregory dragged her through the ballroom and onto the terrace outside.

“Gregory, that was actually really rude,” Y/N said as he let go of her hand and stopped running. She looked at him and frowned, noting his panicked expression. “What’s wrong?”

“A duck is chasing me,” Gregory replied, his little face looking very serious. “It’s following me around and keeps... quacking.”

Y/N snorted. 

“It is not funny!”

“Oh, it is,” Y/N replied. “Why is this duck chasing you, then, brother?” 

Gregory squirmed and Y/N’s shoulders slumped. Whenever Gregory squirmed she knew that whatever he was going to say was going to be ridiculous or stupid. There’d been a time when he’d accidentally toppled a bookshelf onto her - long story - and he’d lied to their mother and Anthony about how it had happened. But one glare (well, attempt at a glare, Y/N was on the verge of passing out and was clinging on to Colin for dear life) from Y/N had him squirming and he’d told the truth.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Gregory Bridgerton.”

Gregory reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a baby duck.

Y/N had no other word other than, “Oh.”

“It was stuck on the steps so I picked it up to help it down and then the mother duck started flapping her wings and quacking and then ran at me and I panicked and ran away,” Gregory replied, barely stopping for breath. 

Y/N let out a soft sigh and crouched down until she was the same height as Gregory. “Pass it here.”

Gregory carefully handed her the fluffy, chirping duckling. Y/N let it sit in her palm and stroked its head with her little finger. 

“Where did you find it?” She asked quietly, looking up at Gregory.

He pointed to the door the other side of the ballroom. “The pond over there.”

“Come on, let’s go put it back,” Y/N said, standing up and cradling the duckling in her hands. “It’s mum is probably worried.”

Y/N and Gregory walked back into the ballroom, weaving through the crowds of people.

“Y/N!” 

Y/N closed her eyes as her mother called her. She looked down at Gregory. “I’ll be back, go to the pond,” she said, ushering him off.

She turned around and plastered a smile to her face as her mother, Anthony, Benedict and a very unhappy Eloise approached with Lady Danbury and a man who looked slightly familiar but she couldn’t for the life of her remember why.

“Y/N, dear, this is Mr Williams,” Violet said, gesturing to the man next to her.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Y/N said, remembering that she’d danced with the man last week. “We danced together at Lady Christy’s ball, last week, didn’t we?”

Mr Williams nodded. “We did indeed, Miss Bridgerton. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Mr Williams held out a hand and Y/N suddenly remembered that she was, in fact, holding a duckling in her hands.

“Can you just give me a minute?” She asked. “I’m sorry.” 

She slid past Anthony and her mother, ignoring their confused stares, and quickly walked to the door Gregory was hovering at. She was vaguely aware of the fact her mother was sending Anthony and Benedict after her but the duckling in her hands chirped and she focused on the pond and the fact that she was still holding a duck in her hands.

Gregory led the way down the stairs and halted suddenly. The mother duck and eight other ducklings were at the bottom of the stairs. The mother duck quacked loudly and hissed.

“Alright, it’s ok,” Y/N said softly, slowly walking forward to the mother duck. She knelt down on the last step and lowered her hands to the grass. “Here’s your baby.”

The baby duckling hopped out of Y/N’s hands and quickly waddled over to its mother, chirping happily as it reunited. The mother duck quacked and turned to the pond, the nine ducklings following after it in a line.

“See, she was probably just scared you were going to take her other babies,” Y/N told Gregory, still kneeling in the grass.

“I was just trying to help,” Gregory said softly, looking wistfully at the ducks.

“I know,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair. “But how would you feel if some stranger came and took you away from mother?”

“Scared,” Gregory admitted.

“Exactly. But you did the right thing, Greg. Even if I did have to interrupt mother’s attempt at match-making,” Y/N muttered, glancing behind her at the house. Anthony and Benedict were hovering at the top of the stairs, trying to make it obvious that they clearly weren’t listening but failing impressively.

“Go on,” Y/N said, shoving Gregory back towards the house, “go annoy Hyacinth.”

Gregory smiled and ran up the stairs, pausing for a second to hug Anthony around the legs, surprising the man. Anthony hugged him back and patted his head with a frown.

Y/N stood up, wincing as her legs tingled at the sudden movement. She looked up at her brothers, both of whom were watching her with a great deal of admiration.

“What?” She asked, frowning.

“You’re a good big sister,” Anthony replied, holding out his arm to her.

“I know I am,” Y/N said, taking his arm and smiling as he rolled his eyes. “And you two,” Y/N linked her other arm through Benedict’s, “are amazing big brothers.”

“Colin will be sad he was left out,” Benedict replied.

“Colin stole my cake, he can be jealous for all I care,” Y/N muttered, remembering her cake with a fond sigh.

The obsession with bug’s never did stop for Gregory. When Colin returned from his travels, he would always sit down with Gregory and go through all the drawings and writing’s he’d done on the bugs he’d seen whilst exploring. 

For his fourteenth birthday, Y/N bought her younger brother a book with detailed drawings of every insect known to man. It’d cost her the equivalent of almost her entire dowry but the joy on Gregory’s face had been worth it. And it was on that day that Anthony realised that, maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t done such a bad job of raising his siblings after all.

[lemons3ason]

How the Vinsmoke Brothers React to Calling Out The Safe Word During Sex (Headcannons)

Warning: NSFW, dacryphilia, degradation, bdsm, size kink, overstimulation, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

~~~~~~~~~~

Ichiji Vinsmoke

-Genuinely this man has a soft spot for you, seeing the dewy teardrops sitting on your pretty lashes as you cry and beg him to stop rearranging your guts makes him so weak.

-Cold, ruthless, brutal, a monster, everything he was to others was just never a side you’d see of him, you made him human all because he loved you so dearly.

-“Come on beautiful just take it, I know you can you always do!”, he’ll growl glaring down at you with cold onyx hues.

-He has you in a mating press, his thick cock stretching your tiny pussy to the brink beneath him as he calls you his ‘tiny little pig slut’.

-It’s not until you call out his safe word that he realizes just how seriously he’s hurting you, “S-Sora!”, you had cried out making him stop everything in his tracks.

-The name alone is enough to make him go soft inside of you, he lets go of your thighs finally noticing the bruising from his rough grip on them and watched as you pulled yourself off of him and curled into a shaking ball on the bed.

-He’s unsure of what to say as you pant desperately for breath, something about his actions and word seemed different today and it scared you.

-The name Sora, his mother’s name, was a reminder for him to be kind and caring so that’s just what he did.

-He was forward and straight to the point, putting his boxers back on and pulling you by your arm until you sat up straight so he could throw one of his shirts over your naked form.

-“May I hold you?”, he’ll ask softly waiting for your response and once you nod yes he’ll lay down next to you pull you onto his chest and smother your face in kisses until you stop shaking.

-Once you’re comfortable enough he’ll adjust himself so he’s at your thighs and gently kisses the bruises he’s left on your skin, once you’re calling him up he’s pulling you back onto his chest and gently holding you and watches as you doze off in his warm arms.

-He’ll whisper soft compliments and praise to you gently rubbing circles against your back to keep you at ease while you sleep.

-The next morning you wake up horny but he’s sure to be much more careful with how he handles you, with you on your stomach and hips high in the air he enjoys your soft squeals as he fucks you from behind.

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

Niji Vinsmoke

-This man ties you up, your arms are tied behind your back allowing him to keep you up by yanking on the rope around your wrist, and your calves touch your thighs since he has them tied up allowing him full access to your pussy even if you tried to escape.

-The most brutal of all the brothers when it comes to sex, if you are very sensitive this is not the man you want to be with.

-Pounds brutally at your pussy, burying himself as deep as he can go and then some just to hear you scream, if he feels that you’re too dry he’ll let all that spit that’s accumulated in his mouth to dribble off the tip of his tongue to your hole before returning to thrusting your pussy into oblivion.

-You can normally handle it, usually your masochistic side is in pure pleasure from how he handles you but for some reason it just felt different today.

-“Hmm what’s the matter slut? Not feeling it today? You’re running dry fast today, need some more pain huh my little bitch?”, Niji growls grabbing a fist full of your (h/c) hair that sends your body into shock.

-You’re easily thrown into pure fear as memories as your days as a mistreated slave come flooding back, he had forgotten it for a brief moment but released your locks as soon as you screamed out, “Heartless!”, at the top of your lungs.

-Your devil fruit powers activated blades erupting from your skin, one scratching Niji’s cheek, and the others cutting your skin but helping you cut yourself free.

-You’ll pull away from him quickly, sitting as far from him as you can while you form yourself into a ball.

-Niji sucks at comforting people, even you. So he’ll leave and order Cosette to your room to calm you down while sitting outside your bedroom door in hopes that he’ll be let back in.

-Once you’ve fallen silent and Cosette emerges with an empty tray of plates and cups that she had provided food and beverages for you with she leaves without a word. The door is left open meaning that you are waiting for him.

-He’s silent, a obvious scowl etched over his face as he sees you asleep in fetal position on your side of the bed.

-His erection is long gone since the beginning of the incident, he won’t ask for sex for a while only if you are needy for some relief but he’ll let you do everything just to make sure you’re comfortable.

-Lays close enough to you to wrap an arm over your around balled form, buries his nose into your hair to enjoy your shampoo that he loves so much. He’s noticed that this relaxes you, eventually you unfold yourself throughout the night and you wake up with him pressed against your back and his arm around your waist.

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

Sanji Vinsmoke

-Usually...USUALLY...this man treats your body like a temple. Kisses every inch of it and praises your whole figure especially the places you’re insecure about but after a fight with Zoro he was furious and took it out on you.

-Your back is pressed against the bathroom wall of the ship, tears falling from your hazy eyes as Sanji fucks the fourth orgasm out of you.

-Your tears and whines just egging him on to fuck you more. Your fists weakly punch and push at his chiseled chest to get him off of you but he’s not listening.

-“S-S-Sanji! St-op please!”, you sobbed trying to push him off of you.

-“Stupid moss head...saying he’s better for you then I am. I’ll show him. Your pussy will only be molded to my cock no one else’s!”, the blonde growled.

-His thrusts are so rough that they make your breasts bounce every time his cock fills your wet cunt, your whole body is burning and you can’t feel your legs. You just want it to stop.

-“Prince, stop!”, you begged calling out the title that Sanji absolutely hated.

-He stopped finally taking in how weak your body was from his constant overstimulation. He returns back to his gentlemanly state and puts you down making sure to keep you leaning against him since your legs are weak.

-“I’m sorry my love, I made you so uncomfortable that you had to say that word...I-I’m so sorry.”, he’ll apologize over and over even after you’ve said that it’s okay.

-He’ll gently clean you off, making sure to be careful with your sensitive body, scrub your head with the shampoo he loves so much, before finally joining you in the warm bath and relaxing with you.

-He knows that he was the cause of the issue but he stays by your side hoping you’ll forgive him, carries you to bed once he’s thrown one of his long shirts over your sweet body, and carries you to bed.

-He cooks you your favorites so you can enjoy a nice meal before sleep and absolutely swoons over how cute you look while stuffing your cute face.

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

Yonji Vinsmoke

-This man is huge compared to you in every way, towers over you and admired you as his prey but god does he love you.

-Not as mean as Ichiji and Niji but still an insult slips out of his mouth here and there when he has you bouncing on his thick cock.

-He loves the way your ass bounces when you come down hard on his cock taking his whole member in despite how small your pussy is compared to his length.

-He smiles at the feeling of your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs as you ride him silly.

-“Yeah pretty girl that’s it. Take it all in.”, he’ll order striking the plump flesh of your ass with his heavy cold hand.

-He’s not even trying but his heavy hand leaves a mark on your tiny cheeks in seconds, the sweet cry of his name motivates him to do it again and your hip movements become long forgotten as Yonji slaps you ass.

-Each hit makes you clench around his cock, strangling it in your tight little walls. He adore the sensation but quickly becomes impatient so his hips start moving plunging his cock so deep that you feel the entrance of your cunt rub against his pelvis.

-“That’s it you like getting spanked don’t you stupid princess? Come on try harder, I’m gonna fill you up with a little heir to my name and you’re gonna take it all.”, Yonji growls smacking your thigh.

-You can’t take anymore strikes from his hand, your cervix hurts from how much he’s been thrusting into you. So you can’t do anything but cry out the word, “Monster!”, you cry out making Yonji freeze up immediately.

-As you collapse off of his member his brothers barge in like nothing informing him of the new mission they’ve been appointed, both of them staring at your shaken form as you try to cover yourself.

-Niji dares to reach out to you with a shit face grin on his face but Yonji doesn’t let his brother touch you. He throws his royal cape over your naked body and shoves his brothers out of the room to change.

-“Stay here, rest up. I should’ve realized that it was to much for you, don’t be mad at me.”, He’ll sigh, the tall green haired man will get on his knees placing his head on your thighs waiting for your forgiveness.

-You forgive him once your body has calmed down and gently play with his hair forgetting that he has to leave on a mission until Niji starts pounding at the door.

-“I’ll be back beautiful. Just wait for me and I’ll make it up to you.”, he smirks pressing a hot kiss to your plump lips.

[nationalharryleague]

In the Long Green Grass

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: the fluffiest fluff with husband!harry  

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi everyone!! Merry Christmas to all that celebrate!! this is my Secret Santa (run and organized by the lovely lu (@meetmymouth​) gift to the sweetest angel who walks among us miss hasibi (@peachybloomss​)!!! I hope you enjoy it my love!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what everyone thinks in my ask! Thank you so much for reading!! 

*** 

You were stirred by the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliff outside the home as the early morning sun streamed in through the windows. A small huf and whine left your lips, always one to ask for just five more minutes in bed, before you climbed from underneath the warm plush blankets and your toes hit the icy and worn wood floors beneath you.

The buttery yellow sunlight thwarted your plans to fight yourself back to sleep for those last few moments, prompting you to reach out your arms in a longing stretch. You released a light and sleepy hum of surprise when your arm hit a tiny furry body, and not the arm of the man who loved to sleep late in the bed beside you. Peeping one eye open, you made eye contact with Piper, Harry’s small jet black cat with glowing green eyes who was laying next to you, curled up on sheets that still held the indent of his body in them.

Piper wore a face of annoyance, obviously blaming you for interrupting her precious beauty sleep, and her eyes followed your body as you forced yourself out of the bed with one goal: find Harry.

Harry had a habit of disappearing, especially in a new place where there was just so much to explore. He was a wanderer (and an aquarius); always on the move, carried along by a thought or idea he just couldn’t resist. It was hard for him to sit still, a trait he probably picked up after tour after tour after tour, never allowing himself the luxury of rest or relaxation after it was never allowed to him. That was why you had insisted he needed time away from the city, finding a perfect spot in a small cottage that sat on the edge of a cliff along the ocean with a back garden full of sweet smelling flowers and tall cushony grass.

You tiptoed carefully down the spiral staircase that lovingly let out groans underfoot, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, into a kitchen that looked straight out of a fairytale. It was small with moss green cabinets and large bay windows that filled the space with light that kept the seemingly hundreds of plants in the house happy and thriving. A cool ocean breeze came in through the open windows of the small breakfast nook, bringing along the scent of a fresh pot of coffee that sat on the butcher block countertops like it had been waiting for you to wake all along. While you felt a jump of excitement within you for the coffee, it still hadn’t been what (or who) you were looking for, even though you were very glad you found it.

A sweet cup of coffee was thoughtfully prepared in a tea cup you had found in the cabinet with small wisteria flowers painted around it’s rim. You knew Harry would poke fun at your cup choice if he were there. “Tea cups are for tea,” you could hear him say, perking up the edges of your mouth into a gentle smile as you sipped it carefully. But the flowers reminded you of the beautiful wisteria tree that flowed in the wind and scattered it’s petals all over the back garden; you just couldn’t pass it up.

It took you quite a while to find him, even with the new found caffeinated energy running through your system. You had run into the two other cats at the house, both rather chubby tabbys named Jack and Gus, that called this back garden home on your search and you obviously had to say good morning. The two rubbed themselves up against your legs, begging for a scratch behind the ear and a bit of attention, and you obliged. Who were you to deny them of it?

The garden the cats got to call home was a dream. It was filled with every variety of colorful flower imaginable and blanketed in a sweet air that always hovered over the space. Your favorites were the small peachy blooms that smelled of sugary perfume. A stone fence ran the perimeter of the yard, a white picket fence in the middle opening to a swath of overgrown grass that swayed in the wind on a hill. If you squinted, you could see the house of the couple you were renting the cottage from, but they were far enough away it felt like you were the only people around for miles.

When you spotted a Harry-shaped hole in the tall grass up the hill, you had a sneaking suspicion you had found your missing husband.

The tall grass squished beneath your feet as you climbed the hill, creating a soft padding below, and the long blades tickled against your bare legs as you made your way towards him, still only dressed in one of his perfectly worn t-shirts from the night before.

“There you are,” you hummed happily when you reached him, standing above him as he layed in the grass. “I thought that I lost you.”

He looked like a renaissance painting as he laid in the grass that was dotted with small pink and purple wildflowers. His curls had gotten a little longer during his much needed break and they splayed out around his head in delicate ringlets like a halo. The light from the still rising sun bounced off his slightly dewy skin, giving him a glow that lit him up even more than usual. Stubble danced across his cheeks and jaw, framing his perfectly pink lips that held a gentle smile as he looked up at you from the ground. And his eyes squinted slightly, shielding his pupils from the ever growing brightness of the sky, creating delicate little wrinkles around his sea glass green eyes that looked so vibrant in the light.

A worn book that you hadn’t seen before, bound in dark green leather with gold detailing, sat on his chest; Poems for Lovers: A Collection was embossed delicately across the cover.

“You’ll never lose me,” he mumbled up at you, a gravel in his voice like it was the first time he had used it that day. You had been married for almost two years and had been together for five, but your cheeks never failed to redden when he spoke sweet nothings like that. “Good morning, angel,” he said softly, reaching his hand up for yours.

You moved to place your hand in his, but ended up only linking your pinkies together in the process; a light tug from the man below you signaled for you to join him on the ground. You couldn’t resist, sitting yourself down with your legs crossed in front of you on the slightly damp ground next to him, pinkies still locked together.

“Morning,” you greeted. “I missed you in bed. Piper isn’t much of a cuddler,” you chuckled while absentmindedly playing with his fingers, twirling his wedding band.

“She’s not very nice, is she?” he smiled, opening his eyes fully to meet yours as you strategically moved your body to block his delicate eyes from the sun. “I’m sorry my cat’s a bitch,” he joked. “She still thinks she’s my number one girl.”

“I tell her I’m sorry that I stole her spot in bed all the time, she never listens. Won’t even have a civil chat with me about it,” you teased sarcastically.

Harry let out an enthusiastic giggle at your words; it was high pitched, and came from his belly in loud bursts of air. His cheeks scrunched up and forced his eyes closed because he was smiling so wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes once again. His laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.

You two must have looked insane, sitting in the grass in a field in the middle of nowhere just after dawn, laughing like idiots. But you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Well, a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt.

As your gigges died down, you turned your attention to the book resting on his chest. “You ditched me in bed for a book?” you teased, letting the remaining laughter escape your body.

“I couldn’t sleep and I found it on one of the bookshelves. I thought it would be nice to read in the grass and watch the sun come up.”

“You should have woken me up. I could have thought of a few things we could have done to tire you out.” A smirk played on your lips as you tapped your chin, pretending to think, as you watched his eyes grow in amusement from your innuendo.

“You looked too peaceful sleeping. Also, drool and bedhead don’t really turn me on if I’m being honest.” It was your turn to react to his teasing.

Your jaw dropped in feigned offence and your finger flew over your shoulder to point back at the cottage. “I can go back if you’d like your privacy,” you said incredulously and with dramatics, until a few chuckles broke through and your resolve softened once again.

“Oh no no no,” he spoke with a grin, “come here,” moving the book and tapping his chest for you to rest your head on. You turned yourself around to lay yourself on the ground, placing your head on his chest and listening to his steady and calming heartbeat.

“How are your poems?” you asked, referencing the book he was now holding in his hands.

“They are very good. I’m glad I found it.” His voice reverberated under your head as he spoke, and you rose and fell softly with his breath.

“Read me your favorite.”

“Okay,” he began, thumbing through the pages as he held the book above both your heads. You listened as he let out a small “ah, here it is,” before he dramatically cleared his throat. “You might remember me talking about this one already, but I love it.”

You knew he loved it before he even began reading anything. He loved his poetry, especially when they were about love. Harry was a hopeless romantic at heart, often saying to you and interviewers “I just love love.” He loved falling in love with you and becoming a team, just as much as you did with him.

“It’s called The Wait,” he spoke gently, his voice taking on a deeper and more enunciated quality. You recognized the poem immediately, as it was the one referenced on his pants for the Vogue cover shoot. He had dedicated it to you then, and was doing it again now in the grass. “It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart,” he began. He spoke slowly and smoothly with the consistency and sweetness of honey. “But the wait was worth it,” he continued. “Because I was in love.”

You couldn’t help but think of your own story as he read. He had chased after you for years, with you always insisting that he was your best friend and you were afraid to ruin that. But gradually, your best friend became your lover, and your lover became your husband.

“I like that one a lot too.” You spoke softly and with reflection. “It reminds me of us.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite.”

You two layed in the grass for hours, not a care in the world, as he read from the book. Every poem took you two on a journey into a love story, one that for the two of you only existed on the page, but told of a very real love that couldn’t have been dishonestly written.

But with how you felt in the moment, with the joy and loving warmth you felt in your belly, you were sure you could write a million poems about the love you had with him.

Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!!! 

[oneofthosesimps]

Freak like Me

pairing: levi x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 6230

summary: as soon as the reader enters levi's life, something changes in him. reader's madness spills over and he slowly changes

warnings: mention of blood (not yours), rough sex, dirtytalk, daddy kink, swearing, dom x dom, fight scene

authors note: although i wanted to write shorter stories again, this one somehow got longer again. i tried my hand at an action scene, but i still have to practice a lot. somehow i had strong harley x joker vibes and they had to come out, sorry.

all credits to the artist of this pic:

Lensar on DeviantArt

-----

Your gaze falls into the depths of the forest before you close your eyes. Bright rays of sunlight fall through the branches above you and warm your face. You hear birds chirping around you, the crackling of the wood beneath you, the rustling of leaves swirling in a gust of wind. You breathe deeply as your open hair blows back. You hear your heart beating quietly in your chest as the silence embraces you like an old friend. What does freedom mean? What does life mean? You are sure that this is pretty close to the source. The people behind the wall, who go about their lives every day hoping to see the next day, would never get to see this world. Especially not the people you left behind in the underground.

A grin plays around your lips as you hear the hissing far off in the distance. The trees groan behind you under the force with which the hooks bore into their bark. That took a long time, you think to yourself, as ropes speed past you. You hear the chatter and shouts of your comrades in fragments, shattering the silence around you. Blurred faces shoot past you one after the other.

You spread your arms and stretch them away from you. One last deep breath fills your lungs before you hold your breath. Slowly your body falls backwards before you lose your footing beneath you and plunge headlong into the depths. The air hisses loudly past your ears, your body spins around itself. You are weightless, the green blurs around you before your whole body is pressed full force into your harness and you are yanked back up. You hear the gas sweep around you as you fly through the air, trailing the others. Your hooks bore further away into the trunk of a thick, old tree. You take momentum, flying high into the treetops, letting the ropes come back to you. Unsecured, you fall through space. Your body does a backward roll, allowing you to observe the forest floor for a brief moment. The moss nestles around the roots of the trees, single brown leaves cover the forest path, bodies move forward beneath you, you can still see a squirrel quickly making its way to safety before your body returns to its normal position and you dig your hooks into a tree again. You zip between the trees, your cape flying behind you, your face brushing some branches that bore into your tender skin. You hear the pop of a cannon being fired and see red smoke in the sky northwest of you.

Immediately you change direction, sprinting forward, leaving behind other cadets who still haven't processed what is happening. Arriving in a clearing, you find your place on a thick branch high above. Further in the distance, you see the shaking of trees, the earth shaking slightly, making the grass dance on the ground. You hear heavy footsteps, still moving slowly.

The branch below you moves and you look to your right. Silver eyes stare at you from beneath tousled black hair, eyeing your small body.

"You really do have to keep pushing forward." You hear more bodies land on the trees behind you and the wood weighs down slightly. The rest of your squad waits for instruction from your captain.

"I guess this is why I'll never get my own Squad, sir."

You turn your gaze back to the direction the titan is coming at you from and grin.

"What do you think, fifteen seconds?"

"Mmm, more like ten," Levi guesses, and the tremor intensifies. A huge hand grips around a tree trunk, pulling out from between the trees, and big eyes stare at you. Nearly ten-metres high, abnormal.

"Let's see what you can do then, humanity's strongest soldier." He snorts and rolls his eyes before his whole body moves forward with a jerk. He pulls his swords from their holsters and places them close to his body. With an ease and without the titan even noticing him, he cuts a chunk out of his neck. Before Levi even gets back beside you, the giant falls to the ground and starts to steam.

That wasn't even seven. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, the blood on his face slowly disappears and he looks at you. A small smirk curls his lips, "Brat."

You snort and slam your fist against his shoulder.

Special.

That's the word everyone would use to describe your relationship.

Special.

The first time Levi laid his eyes on you, when he saw you among all the new, shitty cadets, his foot hit your stomach area shortly after. You lacked respect and you lacked punctuality and discipline too. Another pile of shit he had to deal with - or work on until it headed home in tears.

The day after that, he hit your face with his fist. Kneeling on the floor in front of him, panting, you looked up at him. Wiping blood from your lips, you grinned at him and looked at him with wide eyes, your pupils exploding. "That's all you got, sir." Just as he was about to grit his teeth and lunge with his foot to beat the living daylights out of you, Hange stopped him. He tore himself away from her and knelt down to you, looking at you with dead eyes, "I'm going to make your fucking life a living hell." Your tongue licked over your lower lip, wiping away the remaining blood and your grin widened, "Try me."

He kept his word, always picking you out, giving you more tasks, making you run round after round, cleaning the whole headquarters, beating up your little body several times, but to his displeasure you did it all flawlessly. Yes, you lacked respect and also punctuality and discipline, but your performance was amazing, almost close to his. And when he finally saw the potential in you that Erwin had been talking about all along, it suddenly stopped - he left you alone, saw you with different eyes. Something changed in him, as if a plug had been pulled. You watched each other across the field during training, in mess hall at dinner, every spare minute your eyes spent on each other and gradually butterflies crept into the pit of your stomach. And you had the feeling that behind the cold silver there was something deep and dark that you wanted to bring to the surface. Your exchanges were still kept to a minimum, however, until there was another bang.

"That's the stupidest plan I've heard in a long time," you snort, raising an eyebrow.

"Excuse me, brat?" You roll your eyes and stare at him just as coldly as it hits you. The temperature in the room drops noticeably and the others at the table hold their breath. No one dares to say anything. No one would dare say anything. The moonlight from outside shines in, the candles in the room flicker slightly and trace sharp edges on your faces.

"That's the stupidest plan I've heard in a long time," you repeat louder, "Better, sir?"

Levi's eyes blaze and he stares at you. His eyebrows draw together, the corners of his mouth drop. You see Armin open his mouth speechlessly to your right.

Your hairs stand up, the electricity rises and you bite your lower lip, grinning.

"You doubt my plan?" says Levi low and monotone. Jean's hand lands on your shoulder and he grips it, pressing you into your seat to save you from your own stupidity, but it wasn't you who was stupid, it was the whole plan Levi had just explained to you.

"Not only do I doubt it, but I also have a better one," your grin widens as Levi's liquid silver darkens. "Let me fight on the front lines. Mikasa is good, but I'm better".

"For that, you're an incorrigible little bitch who won't listen to my orders".

"Yes, because my plans usually make more sense".

"You're not ready for that. Your cluelessness only makes you run from one titan to another. That statement alone shows me how small your brain is if you're not even aware of it and now shut your mouth."

Jean's grip tightens, but you just push his hand away from you. After your next blink, your heart jumps a tiny bit as you see Levi's annoyed face. He is always good at holding back his anger and it never shows. In fact, he almost never shows any emotion, but you see right through him. He has it bubbling up inside him. Never contradicts him and if he does, the person suffers a thousand deaths afterwards. But between you it is somehow different, tingling. It gives you the greatest pleasure to see him like this and you know, deep inside him, a voice is telling him that he enjoys it too. Others would describe you as crazy and full of the courage to live, but that's what makes it all so appealing.

"Maybe we can find a compromise?" suggests Armin and you see the sweat on his brow as he almost shits himself at the words. You roll your eyes and look back at Levi.

"I thought you wanted to make my life hell. So that's a good start," you remind him of the first words he ever said to you.

"Your plans are bullshit. If I let you keep fighting up front, you'll probably get yourself killed by your insanity, " he growls, almost at his limit. But only almost.

You lean over slightly, look at him, smile slightly, grin, bite your lip again, breathe, "I have a feeling you like this madness, Levi."

He tenses slightly, draws his eyebrows together again as his name passes your lips. Connie coughs and tries to draw attention to himself, but everyone ignores him. It seems like everyone is in a state of shock because you simply addressed him by his first name. Everyone watches spellbound as you literally eye-fuck each other. Do they like the show? Almost at his limit.

"Tch, what did you just call me, brat?" his voice gets louder and his hands form into fists. You lean back in your chair again and look at him, bored.

"Oh, I didn't know you had such bad hearing. Don't you like Levi? That's your name, isn't it? Do you prefer Sir? Or Captain? Or maybe," your eyes looked up at him, burning into him, "Daddy?" At his limit. Pathetic.

A deep dark sound comes from his throat and the others hold their breath again. His whole posture grows stronger and wider. You see the muscles working under his clothes, see veins popping on his hand and you feel butterflies in your stomach. His eyes are black. You all sit like that for a few seconds. You watch his gestures and his face change emotions. Without warning, his right hand hits the table flat, "Fuck off."

The sound cuts through the silence and the weaklings among you flinch. Confused, no one moves, while your eyes do not leave each other's. Armin is about to open his mouth and Jean is about to put his hand on your shoulder again when Levi stands up with a jerk, his chair tipping backwards and hitting the wooden floor with a thud.

"I said fuck off," he roars, looking around with a death glare.

Chairs squeak, footsteps run across the wooden floor, making it creak.

"What have you done now?" whispers Jean in your ear and you give him a look before he walks behind the others and the door closes.

The scene stops again and you stare at Levi. Both hands flat on the table in front of him, leaning on his arms and looking down, he stands there. You can no longer see his eyes as his long black strands fall into his face, but you notice his tense jaw. Your heart leaps again. He was so handsome. Especially when he was angry. Finally, you break the silence.

"Great, now you've scared everyone," you sigh and roll your eyes.

"What are you doing?", Levi hisses back at you, spitting venom and bile, finally raising his head. His eyes blaze again and your core drips.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know your place, so start acting like it, you piece of shit."

"I wish my place was naked in front of you." Before Levi has taken in what you've said, you stand up, pushing the chair back a little as you do so, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to sleep too. The day was exhausting and I need to rest to be fit for the expedition. So, I can sit my ass off nicely in midfield."

You turn away from him and your heart slips slightly into your pants. Never turn your back on the enemy. "But of course, it makes much more sense for Mikasa to fight in front and me in the back. Makes sense."

You can take two steps as his hand wraps firmly around your wrist. He squeezes too tightly, hurting you, and you grin again.

"Repeat what you said." His voice is so low it sends a shiver down your spine. Your expression changes and, playfully annoyed, you turn to face him.

"Do you mean the part where I explained that I was going to sit my ass off." He growls and you almost groan. The tension was heavy and hot.

"Stop playing games. My patience is running out."

You lick your lower lip again, wetting it before biting down on it. "I know this isn't about the fucking mission," Levi looks at your mouth. You take a step closer to him, looking up at him from below. "I wish my place was naked in front of you, Daddy," you breathe.

In that split second, his lips land on yours. Two forces of nature collide and you almost topple backwards. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you against him, and you finally moan. He bites your lower lip hard and you open your mouth in pain. He takes the opportunity to dig his tongue deep between your lips. He presses himself against your body and you slam into the wall behind you. A pain runs through your head as your tongues circle each other, fighting to see who has the upper hand. Your hands go into his hair, reaching deep into his mane, and you pull his head closer to you. Big hands grip your waist and he lifts you up with ease so you can wrap your legs around him. His hands travel under your thighs, squeezing the flesh before he drills them into the fat of your ass. Your teeth collide as you drill your tongue deeper into his mouth, exploring his mouth cavity. He releases the kiss and a thread of spit connects you. You lay your head back and lick over your swollen, sore lips as he places his mouth on your vein, kissing your pulse before licking along it.

"Took you long enough to finally decide to fuck me."

"Shut your mouth, brat," he breathes against your neck before biting into it and sucking on it.

"I swear, if you leave hickeys ..." you groan.

"What then? Are you going to hit me with your little fists?"

"You mean like you did to me all those times? Nah, I'm not an asshole like you. But you probably secretly get off on it."

He bites your neck, just above your pulse, and your head slams back against the wall behind you, making you see stars. He smirks as his nails dig into you and you claw into his shirt. Your panties are completely wet and your juice leaks out of you incessantly. You moan loudly as his teeth dig deeper into your flesh. This was far too good to be true. Your left hand goes into his hair again, you pull at the strands and tear him away from you. He makes a face and you press your lips to his again, biting his lower lip until you taste blood. He gasps and pushes your head away from him, "You're crazy."

You grin broadly at him. "We've been over this," you lick his lower lip apologetically, "and I can see you like it." His gaze is on your face as you wrap your arms around him. "You like crazy, you will stick your dick in crazy." A dark sound escapes him and your nails run over his neck. "You can't even argue with me, you want to fuck this crazy bitch so badly."

His lips land on yours again and you grin against him before moaning into his mouth as he presses you tighter against the wall. His hands leave your ass, skimming up the sides of your waist before moving forward to your chest. Two of his fingers find their way along between the buttons, stroking the sensitive skin. Your belly grows warm with the butterflies inside him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and run your hand under the fabric of his shirt at the nape of his neck, running it over the muscles of his shoulders and it shakes you with pleasure.

His strong hands grip the fabric of your blouse and without warning, he rips the front apart, sending the buttons flying across the room. You bite your lip as his arms fall around your waist to hold you in place. "You shouldn't have taken your anger out on my blouse," you moan as he kisses the bulge above your right collarbone and licks along it.

"Would you rather I took it out on you?" he murmurs as he bites into that thin skin too, sucking on it and sure to leave a hickey.

"Yes, I don't know you any different."

He continues to lick forward, kissing the ridge at the end of your neck, licking over a mole at the beginning of the mound of your breast. His right hand comes away from your waist, grips your left breast and kneads it. You claw into his shoulders, leaving marks as he pushes the cup off it and you feel his hand skin on skin. Almost painfully, he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and you push your back through, coming to meet him.

"Mmm, you like that?" he murmurs and you can hear his grin.

"I never thought you'd be this good at it," you mock, before you make a grimace and groan. Pain runs through you as he bites down on your nipple and then his lips wrap around it and he sucks on it. The sensation extends to your fingertips and your toes, coursing through your whole body. You close your eyes, savouring and moaning his name as he bites into it again. He sucks harder on it, lifting his head slightly and releasing it with a plop. He circles your nipple with his tongue and licks it slowly and pleasurably. The knot in your stomach tightens and your head is fogged.

"More," you moan into the room. You tug at the piece of fabric covering him and press your core tighter against him.

"Don't be so impatient, idiot."

"I'm not impatient, you're just slow."

He pulls your whole body down a bit, pressing his bulge into your centre. You curse because the fabric between you is annoying and rub against him greedily.

"Slowly then?" he purrs against your ear and comes towards you, rubbing against you too, "I'll keep that in mind." He grips you again and lifts you away from the wall. You let yourself fall against him and moan against his neck, licking it as you continue to try and build pressure.

Shortly after, your bottom touches the table and he releases your weight. You seize the opportunity and do the same to him, yanking him out of his shirt.

"Tch, but I'm venting my anger," he leans over you, capturing your lips again. Immediately your tongues meet. Greedily your fingers touch his body, stroking his soft skin beneath your fingers, feeling individual scars over, which you let your thumb wander. You caress each and every muscle and gape at his well-built body. He surpasses every single one of your fantasies that you imagined while he was training or just cleaning. You follow his muscles down to the V of his pelvis and a deep moan comes over him as you undo the buckle of his belt. His hands also find their way to your trousers, undoing them, and he releases the kiss. He goes to the floor, kneels in front of the table where you are still sitting and looks up at you. Slowly he takes off your boots without taking his eyes off you. You watch him spellbound, a grin falling on your lips again. He pulls at your trouser legs and you lift your bottom, helping a little so that he can brush the fabric off your legs.

His hands run over your feet and you shake yourself slightly before he kisses them.

"Mmm," you moan, "I could see you like this more often, Captain." You bite your lower lip as his hands slide along your legs. Again, and again his lip or tongue hits your skin, caressing it and you are sure you would leave a stain on the neatly cleaned table. At the latest, when his lips lick the insides of your thighs, your hands clasp the edge of the table. You groan and your right hand goes into his hair, claws into it. His hands settle on your legs, pushing them apart, and his warm breath touches your core. He looks at the dark fabric separating his face from your lower lips and licks his lips. How will you taste? There is a distinct stain, your juice colours the fabric a shade blacker and his hard cock presses against his still closed trousers. He draws in the air around him and he groans. You smell so incredibly good, how much he'd like to taste you. How much he would like to fuck you.

When you notice his fingers gently stroking your pussy and he grips the fabric to pull it aside, you moan again and pull on his head.

Painfully he is pulled back and you close your legs.

"What are you doing, idiot?" he gasps in annoyance, his face contorting at the sting.

"I don't feel like playing this time," you murmur, grinning. "My patience is wearing thin," you repeat his words from earlier, "I don't feel like waiting anymore."

You press your toes against his chest and push him backwards. He is slightly off balance, staggers and falls into the chair behind him.

"Unzip your pants already", you stand up and your hands each rest on the back of the chair next to his head, your breasts dangling in his face, "Go ahead".

Completely caught off guard, he undoes the button and then the zip. You grin again and lean forward towards him. Your lips meet his jaw, kissing along it to his ear and you put your mouth to the shell of his ear, "And now you take out your big cock."

He growls slightly and does as you command. Your gaze falls briefly on his hard erection and a shiver comes over you, your butterflies dancing inside you.

"That's much better, isn't it, Daddy?" you see his Adam's apple dangle as he swallows hard and you look into his eyes. You place one leg on each side of his body. Your hands slide from the back of the chair to his shoulders and you claw into them. Still covered with a piece of cloth, you rub your cunt over his hard cock, which presses against it. You moan and he does the same, putting his hands on your waist and squeezing. His eyes close and he puts his head back in his neck, "Do it already."

"Anything my daddy wants," your hand grips the thin fabric and pulls it aside. Drops of your juice hit him, mixing with his precum and you rub it along your slit before gripping his shaft and sliding his thick tip inside you.

Never would you have expected him to be so big. Your walls press tightly against him as he slides inch by inch into you. Your eyebrows draw together because it feels so good. Levi gasps slightly beneath you as you swallow him slowly.

"You're huge," you sigh contentedly as he's fully inside you, and you twitch your walls, his fingers buried deep in the flesh of your waist. His jaw seems tense, but his eyes look at you half-closed. His irises are no longer visible. "God, so fucking huge. We should have done this so much sooner. I think it's tearing me apart," you grin wide and happy as you feel a slight burn.

"If I had known how good you looked doing that, I would have fucked you sooner."

"Yeah, would you have?" you look deep into his eyes as you move upwards, his cock sliding completely out of you and you lower yourself back down onto him, "Do you like the way I ride your cock?" Your movements slowly quicken and you hear the smacking of your cunt as it swallows his cock again and again.

"Do you like the way your thick cock keeps digging deep into me?" He growls out and starts to come towards you. His hips thrust upwards, hitting you hard. As he does, you don't part your gaze for a second and it feels like you can glimpse his soul.

"Do you like the way my cunt milks you?" Levi digs one hand into the fat of your ass, pulling on it and baring his teeth. You dig your nails into his back as he changes the angle and bumps against your G-spot. The sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the mixing of your fluids grow louder. You become incredibly hot and start to sweat.

"Do you like the way I moan your name?" you add a long Levi at the last word and he stares at you like you're a goddess. His goddess.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he murmurs in a dry, heavy voice.

"That you ever thought otherwise hurts my heart." You ram your fingernails deeper into his back and pull at the skin, leaving deep marks.

"I'll never think anything else again," he groans up at you. By now you are no longer riding him. Instead, he holds you in place above him, your feet no longer even touching the ground, and he thrusts into you with a brutality that leaves you breathless. The knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter and you bite his shoulder to stifle a scream. He fucks you like a madman, pressing his body hard against yours and enjoying the feel of your hard nipples against his chest. He tries to get even deeper, to push against your cervix, but the position is too shitty for that.

"That won't do," he groans, suddenly lifting you up. With his pants at his ankles and you in his arms, he walks back to the table, lays you down on it ungently and buries himself in you again. He grips your legs with his hands, rests them on his shoulders and increases his speed further. He fucks you into the hard wood of the table and puts his head back, moaning your name loudly. He comes so far inside you, you feel pain deep inside you. Such good pain.

"God, your cunt is so tight. I never want to feel anything else ever again." You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Your breath has long left your lungs and your brain can't make anything up. Your little body is concentrating solely on how his fat cock is being pushed into you, how he is tearing your little hole in two and how incredible this feeling is. Because of this, you just mumble something to yourself, which makes him grin, "Suddenly I guess your mouth isn't so big anymore." Again, you try to say something, but it is in vain. Your head is full of fog and all you can think about is how he should thrust harder, even deeper, which is no longer possible, and how he should take you. You want him to ruin you, for everything and everyone. Every night he should do this to you so that you can never stand or sit again. You just want to be his little plaything.

"Good to know I can shut you up like this." His cock hits your G-spot hard and makes you see stars. You moan loudly and reach for something to claw into, but there's nothing. "Alright, I guess silent isn't quite the right word".

He's fucking you so well and you glare at him as he stares at you and you bite your lip, your breathing becoming more uncontrolled and you nod slightly at him to signal how close you are. He grins and you push your back through as he thrusts into you one last time and you explode, screaming his name and losing your grip on the earth.

That was probably the beginning of your death - and probably that of every other - but who knows for sure. The two of you were quite a force on your own, but as a duo you were invincible. Soon, word got out about what had happened. You could have tried to deny it, but it wasn't difficult to guess, since you were ever the only person allowed to disobey Levi and get away alive. Moreover, your loud moans could be heard throughout the building. Everyone should know that you now belong to each other. Your madness spilled over onto him. You had nothing left to lose - except each other and you swore you would only leave this hell together.

"Listen up, shitheads," Levi turns his attention to the people behind you and you follow his gaze, "we're going to do another round and secure the perimeter before we set up camp here for the night."

"Yes, sir," everyone but you shouts in unison and salutes. You roll your eyes.

Your gaze, on the other hand, averts and you direct it to the trees around you. The birdsong has died down and the wind has receded. The branch beneath you sways slightly again as Armin lands on it and turns to talk to Levi. You ignore them both and continue to look around. No wind, but the leaves sway back and forth. You close your eyes and concentrate. Far in the distance you can hear a river making its way through the ground. There is a faint smell of wet moss and it is all so peaceful. Far away you hear the tapping of a woodpecker looking for its food before it suddenly stops. You tear your eyes open and clutch the handles of your equipment. A moment later you see the bird fluttering overhead with a loud bird song. Your eyes fall on Levi and over Armin's shoulder he looks at you. He raises an eyebrow before your typical grin falls to your lips and his expression slips.

You shoot your hooks, which bore into a tree and you fly away. Behind you, you hear the shouting of others and more gas being consumed as you make your way through the forest. You build up speed and zoom past the many trees. You race in the direction from which you just heard the woodpecker. You hear a stomping sound that gets louder and louder the closer you get to it, before you see two huge figures running past you on your left. You didn't expect two, but that only means one more point on your kill scale. Your hands grip the handles of your 3DMG tighter and adrenaline rushes through your bloodstream. You draw in a deep breath through your nose as you suddenly change direction and race towards them. In the distance, you catch sight of your squad and see Levi racing ahead of them after you. He is stronger than you, but you are faster. He has left the squad behind with ease and does not look happy. His rage-filled face makes you feel like you're on fire and a shiver runs down your spine.

"Sorry," you shout loudly to them as you fly through the air and your hook bores into a titan's shoulder. You hear Levi yell your name, but you ignore him. Unfortunately, this distracts the two titans and they notice you. They stop and look around before spotting Levi.

The smaller titan is just under eight metres tall, the other about two metres taller, both of course abnormal. You whirl around the larger one and draw your swords, placing them against your small body, ready for battle. You hiss at his neck, but while he has not yet set his sights on you, the smaller one turns his attention to you and looks at you with wide eyes. He reaches out his hand to you. You curse loudly and drill your hook into a tree above you to get away from him quickly. It is just enough that when he closes his hand, you are not caught in it. Instead, your sole touches his huge finger and you push off against him in addition to putting more land between him and you. On the other side of the field, you see Levi whirling through the air, attracting the little titan's attention. He puts up his swords ready to fight, but you are quicker, get in his way and cut the titan's neck with a smooth slice. The first titan goes down, begins to steam and you are left with the larger one. As you fly through the air, you drill your hooks into his arm and pull yourself towards him. Just before you get on top of him you change direction and fly towards his shoulder. The titan looks around and tries to spot you again, but you are too fast. The next time your hooks hit a tree in the distance. You fly towards his neck, your swords just setting when your ropes suddenly loosen. The titan has lashed out, ripping them out of the tree. You tear open your eyes, more adrenaline finding its way into your bloodstream, your heart pounding against your chest. For the moment, your course is not altered, so your cut glides through him perfectly and he falls slowly to the ground. But you fall with him. You try to drill your hooks back into a tree, but apparently, he has damaged your equipment, so nothing happens. Panic shoots into your head as you get closer and closer to the ground. You close your eyes and brace yourself for impact before you hit the ground. Your air is ripped from your lungs, your body aches under the contact and the wind flies around your ears. You cling to the body against you and rest your head against its neck. Black tea and lemon. As soon as your feet touch ground, he sets you down and pushes you off him. You stagger back and see the faces of the rest of your comrades, who look at you in horror.

"What was that about, you retard?!" snarls Levi at you, and you see his tense jaw and the deep creases on his forehead, his lips pressed hatefully into a line, as he presses his eyebrows together.

"I don't know what you're upset about. I had the situation under control." You pat the dirt off your clothes, hoping he doesn't see your slightly wobbly legs. You take a deep breath and look up at him. That was more action than you planned. To be honest, the situation got out of hand, but you would never admit that - especially not in front of Levi.

"Under control?! You call that under control! You disobeyed my order!" he yells at the whole forest and you see Krista wince.

"I killed them, what more do you want? If you hadn't come, I would have finished faster."

"He almost killed you!"

"Right, almost," you grin at him and undo the straps of your equipment, letting it fall to the floor. It is no longer of any use and simply means more burden that you would have to carry around with you. You kick it lightly and it rattles. Everyone seems shocked, and Levi clenches his hands into fists. You bite your lower lip, "You were there, weren't you?"

"Yeah, but I'm not always, maron!"

"Yeah, and I'm good at taking care of myself in those moments," you stride towards him and place your hands on his tense chest, "Daddy."

You wink at him and the others almost skin it at your words. Eren is probably already thinking about running away before Levi takes his anger out on him. You stroke his shirt and he stares at you. His anger is immeasurable, but you can see something else mingling in his gaze and he relaxes slightly.

"You'll pay for that later," he murmurs and you lick your lips.

"I expected nothing less."

[hauntedsongtaco]

Suptober Day 3: Rainbows

„Dude, can’t we just go home?”, Dean muttered into Sams shoulder. They were pressed against each other in an ocean of glittery, half naked people. Normally, Dean was all for glitter and half naked, but not when it was almost 90°F and 2 pm on a Tuesday.

“No way! I wanna see the next act!”

The brochure Sam got handed yesterday in the street said something about a drag queen throwing knives, and for whatever reason Sam had insisted on coming here. Dean had originally planned on waiting in the car, a safe distance from the pride village, but his stomach betrayed him after 10 minutes of smelling all kinds of delicious street food.

When Dean let out an annoyed grunt and rolled his eyes for the twentieth time that day, Sam lost his patience.

“Why don’t you just go and find some more of those churros to stuff yourself with. I’ll meet ya at the gate in 10 minutes”, he snapped.

Dean shot him a sarcastic grin and squeezed his way through the crowd. It was bad enough that he had to loose his jacket because of the heat, now his arms would be glittery for the next month. He finally found a group of flag waving, laughing people that he could follow behind and out of the stage area. The food court left more space for him to walk and he took a deep breath.

He didn’t understand why Sam wanted to come here so desperately. Maybe he needed some distraction after their last hunt; they couldn’t save the stupid teenager who let himself get turned into a vampire and when he had attacked Sam, well… It wasn’t s difficult choice but it didn’t leave them unfazed.

Dean shook of the guilt with a roll of his shoulders and focused his mind on more urgent matters. Churros. He deserved them after spending an hour squeezed between leather straps and nipple patches.

He took the bag of deep-fried goods with a grateful smile from the young woman and found himself a fence to sit on. It might have possibly been the quietest place in the whole village and Dean enjoyed the silence for a minute. He was getting old after all, and even though he would never admit it, the loud music was giving him a headache. Some of the churros were filled with jam and some with nougat and Dean couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how much Jack would love these. For a second he considered saving one for Jack, but he decided that cold churros tasted like sad clowns so he had to finish them all by himself.

As he was stuffing the last churro on his mouth, he noticed a guy sitting across the lawn, leaning against a tree. And smiling at him. Dean froze for a second. Was the guy…No. People can be friendly for the sake of it. He wasn’t being checked out. He couldn’t be, he had a mouth full of deep-fried dough and his hands were covered in jam. He shook his head in disbelieve about his egocentric thoughts and tried to smile at the guy in response, though it probably looked quite horrible, considering his puffed-out cheeks.

But the guy seemed to get the idea because Dean could make out the movement of the guys shoulders as he chuckled. Dean was pleased with himself. No reason to panic just because someone offered a kind smile. He began to wipe his hands on the stack of napkins he wisely brought with him, when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes. The guy was scribbling something down and got up to get back to the party, Dean assumed. That assumption was disproven when he suddenly felt the presence of another human in his space.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Dean stared up at the man with wide eyes, his hands stopped in the middle of the wiping motion. The guy was almost as tall as Dean, with messy black hair and a five o’clock shadow. His eyes, Dean realized, now that they were face to face, were differently coloured behind his glasses. One was strikingly blue, almost white and the other was as dark and green as moss.

It took Dean a minute to tear his eyes away from those of the stranger, who was just smiling at him with an amused expression on his face. He then reached up to Deans face and gently wiped away some jam that was stuck on the corner of his mouth. Dean was so surprised by the intimate motion, he was back to staring and if his breath might have hitched, the guy didn’t let on whether he noticed.

“You have something on you face.”

His voice was deep and smoky and send a shudder down Deans spine. Internally, he slapped himself for his reaction, or the mere lack of it, if he was being honest. Normally, he would turn on his charm and tell Sammy to get a cap to the motel, but for some reason his brain had decided to just not function today.

Somehow, he managed to gulp down the doughy mush and choked out a “Thanks” before the stranger handed him the napkin with a smile and disappeared in the crowd. For Dean the interaction had seemed to last hours, but in reality it probably were only two minutes. And still he sat there on the fence, like an idiot, still clutching the napkin in his hands and staring at the spot where he last saw the dark hair disappear.

The ringing of his phone snapped him back into the real world and he answered with a grunt. ^

“Dude, where the hell are you?”, Sams shouted into his ear. In the background Dean could hear the music blasting and people cheering.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to get a grip.

“I’m, uh, I’m somewhere at the side, with- with grass ‘n trees? I don’t know.”

“What? Dean, I can barely hear you. Just meet me at the Info point, okay?” Sam shouted and hung up.

Dean let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. This was stupid. He had acted like a fifteen year old virgin with a crush and had missed the opportunity for a nice little pick-me-up. He once again shook his head and hopped of the fence. When he collected his trash, he remembered the napkin the guy had given to him and for whatever reason, he decided to look at it. And there it was. A number scribbled at the corner with a “Aaron” and a heart above it. Dean chuckled to himself. He still got it. Or at least he tried to convince himself that it was his charm and not maybe the dude having a weird eating kink that got him a number. Whichever it was, he took it as a win.

He spotted Sam easily in the crowd, although there were quite a few guys in dangerously high heels walking around. Neither of them dressed like a 17 year old lesbian though, so Sam still stuck out.

He was standing at the desk of the info point, patting himself down and smiling apologetically at the teen next to the register. When Dean pat him on the shoulder, he sighed in relief and turned around.

“You got some cash?”, was all he asked. Dean searched for his wallet and peeked at the object Sam wanted to purchase.

“The hell is this? You got a zebra kink of something?”

Sam gave him his best bitch face and unfolded the black and white piece of fabric. Except it wasn’t all black and white. In the middle, there was a triangle in rainbow colours.

“It’s an ally flag, Dean. Now give me the money.” But Dean took a look around at the stuff that was put on display in the tent. A huge pile of differently coloured flags with a legend to all the pride flags next to it, took up most of the space. Dean took a long look at the poster and then grabbed one of the plastic bags. He turned back to his brother, when his eye got caught by one of the nick-nacks next to the register. With a grin he took it and put it next to his brothers flag.

When the sat down in the car, Dean couldn’t ignore Sams curious stares anymore.

“What?”

“Nothing”, Sam tried to keep down a smile.

“Just wondered what you got for yourself.”

Without looking at him, Dean pulled the pink, blue and purple flag out of the bag and threw it in Sams lap.

“That one’s for me”, he muttered and ground his teeth when he felt the embarrassed blush creep up his neck. Quickly, he pulled out the last item in the bag and held it up. It was a headband with a fluffly, rainbow-coloured halo atop of it, which bounced around crazily as Dean shook it.

“This one’s for Cas.”

[fakeloveaskblog]

aw, sweet loceit in the evening sun. logan is actually super good at explaining healthy relationships and boundaries and stuff actually, i betcha he could recognize abuse no problem

…aye remy! REMY!! HAve you thought about going to that gay bar more often? who knows, maybe you'll encounter someone nice, make friends with like-minded people, hear some disco, the full nine yards. janus might be there, remus might be there. (just look around for the guy with the blue tie, he's a great guy, if he's not wearing it he'll look like he has that blue tie kinda energy! you could totally just get drunk and unload your grievances on him and i bet he won't even mind!)

(Mentions of U!Virgil but I say beforehand when that happens so those who don’t like U!Virgil can enjoy the rest of the fic up until then)

(Words: 4100)

Remy wiped away a tear while looking at your message. The cold light from their phone was the only thing brightening up the room. Virgil was sleeping beside them, his arm was laid around their waist.

"You just like tots gave me the greatest idea! I'm gonna invite Rem out to the bar! It's gonna the funnest thing like ever! Thanks girl!!"

--

2 days later Remus was dangerously close to eating the moss straight from the gay bar's wall. He had been left without supervision for over 15 minutes while he sat outside waiting for his friend to show up, what else was he supposed to do?!

"SSSSUUUP BABE!!!"

Remy came towards him as fast as they could. They had on a short leather skirt, a neon mesh crop top and a leather jacket over it.

They did a little turn "I just like felt a bit glamorous today!" 

Remus choked on his own spit "The world must be a dark place when you aren't feeling glamorous"

"Awwww babbbe"

He sent them a big grin. He'd just put on his usual oversized dysphoria hoodie and matching oversized (:O) sweatpants.

Remus' smile disappeared in an instant as he noticed dark bruises all around Remy's neck. Shades of purple and green collided against each other.

"Ehm did a vampire come and attack you last night? Seriously are you alri-"

"JUst a reminder that it will be loud in there" Remy interrupted.

"Oh. Right!"

He fumbled around in his bag after his headphones. After putting it and a chew necklace on he did a thumbs up. Remy took off their sunglasses and leaned down so they were face to face.

Their face was so close he could feel their breathe against his lips. They put the sunglasses onto him and sent him a soft smile.

“There’s like lots of bright lights too” They explained.

Remus’ heart fluttered. He didn’t understand why “T-thanks”

They moved their arm around his shoulders as they went into the bar. It was past 12 am so some of the daytime furniture had been moved to make place for a dancefloor. There was indeed lots of neon lights flickering all around the bar and fast pop music was blasting through the speakers.

It was hard to see any details of anyone around him so Remus quickly forgot about the bruise. In this lighting it just looked like a weird choker anyway.

A guy with a see through shirt bumped into Remus. He had top surgery scars. For a moment they looked at each other in the most knowing way. The stranger looked away and continued talking with whoever he was with.

Remus whole body seemed to vibrate. There were so many butterflies in his stomach it felt like he was going to puke, in a good way.

Remy sat him down on one of the tall barstools and slumped down right next to him “So whatcha gonna drink?”

“The squashed down organs of my enemies!!!” He shrugged “Soda?”

They burst out into laughter “What? You catholic or something? Not allowed to drink alcohol?”

He slumped in on himself and started fiddling with his necklace “I-I dunno-”

“No. No babe I was just like joking. Like a stupid bitch. It’s okay” They waved at the waiter “Your most alcoholic fruit mix and your finest coca cola please!”

Remus leaned in to whisper “With salt”

“With salt? Please!”

He kept vibrating like an overexcited weasel. After getting their drinks he kept tapping the glass to stim some of the happiness out.

“Honestly I’ve never been to a gay bar before. I’m digging it. Just like how I’m digging graves”

They playfully hit his shoulder “Then I’m tots gonna try my best to make this the  ultimate first gay bar experience! I can’t think of any other lil fucked up gremlin buddy I would wanna have by my side!”

"Muhahah!! I am officially assigned ultimate gremlin buddy-”

“Greetings” A voice suddenly came from behind them.

Both of them flinched away. Remy let out a short yell and Remus was close to throwing his drink in the person’s face when he saw it was just Logan.

He had on jeans and a black button up with the top button unbottoned. He had with him iced coffee from starbucks because he had to drive home later.

“LOGIE!!!” Remy threw their arms around his neck to pull him closer “Babe this is the Log-legend. Once he was like sooo drunk so when he like tried to kiss me puked on my shoes instead!”

Logan grimaced “I am still very sorry about that”

“Oh I already know him through Janus” Remus replied. 

“Oh my gawd babe” Remy looked between them all “So like we all know Janny?! Wig! Sad he isn’t here then”

Remus held up his cola “Cheers to J-anus!” The other two held up their glasses in agreement.

“Cheers”

“Cheerio!”

“He is very pretty and charming and cute” Logan dreamily sighed. He stopped himself from continuing to say compliments.

“Yeah” The other two sighed back in unison.

Logan sat down on a chair next to them. Remy looked around the bar before squinting at him “No Patty?”

He instantly started looking like a Very sad seal “Sadly my wife is away on a convention with her magical girl anime fanclub this whole week. I estimated that going to the bar would make me feel less lonely”

“You have a WIFe??? Like a real one???” Remus exclaimed, his eyeballs were close to popping out from surprise.

“Yes. This may be a controversial opinion but when I marry someone I prefer them to be physically real” He replied druly.

He got a smug grin on his lips “Does she peg you?”

“She does far more than just peg me”

“Nice!” His eyes went even wider “IS That a stim toy??!”

He pointed at the tangle Logan kept between his fingers “Correct. If I do not have something to relieve my focus onto I can easily go into senso- OH a chewie?”

Remus nodded while showing of his chew necklace. The two of them started rambling about their favorite stim toy. Until they went off into special interests (star trek/astronomy and art/animal biology respectively).

Soon enough Remus was showing pictures of the animal bones he’d found. Logan ooeh and ahhed at all of them before asking the most nerdy of questions (where he’d found them, their bone density, if any damage had been done to them) which only made Rem infodump which made Lo infodump which made them both happy stim.

Meanwhile Remy sat beside them completely zoned out. They got time to drink 2 more of those fruit mixes and a few shots. The room was starting to spin.

The loud music wasn’t keeping out the yelling. They dunked their forehead against the bar table and covered their ears to try and get it out. The music was supposed to keep it out! Why was nothing working! The bruise ached. Their throat closed in on itself until they couldn’t breathe. 

“Remus” They gasped out. They looked over to their friend with a desperate look in their eyes. They just needed a distraction.

“So my theory for why you keep finding bones in specifically that part of the woods is because of the kind of dirt making it take longer for them to deco-” Logan was explaining while Remus nodded along.

“Rem! L-let’s like go up and dance or something. Please” 

This time it caught Remus’ attention. He looked over to them “Sure- are you feeling alright? Did you drink too much? You’re looking like a mummy”

“Yes. No. I just like- Like- They’re playing Charli xcx of course we gotta like dance!!”

“I will protect your belongings then” Logan added.

Remy stumbled up on shaky legs. Remus sent them a warm smile that made them want to cry before taking their hand. He let them lead him out to the dancefloor. Honestly he was pretty nervous about it, but being with them always made some of the anxiety melt away.

They stumbled on their own feet and fell forward. Their friend took ahold of their wrists and pulled them close to his chest. Their faces were so close to each other. So so close.

He didn’t let go. They couldn't remember him ever letting them hold him this close. Their chests pressed against each other. Their arms around his shoulders. His hands on their back. 

"You’re right. It is a good song. Good to crash a car too" Remus said absentmindedly.

Remy let up into shaky giggles from how sudden he’d said it “Yeah. Yeah I guess” 

They kept giggling. He chuckled back. He started spinning around on the dancefloor. They moved with him. His arms wrapped closer around their waist. Their cheek leaned against the slope of his neck (even though they had to lean down to get on his height level).

Remy quietly sang along to the music which made Remus start yelling along to it. The enby threw their head back from laughter. They took his hand and intertwined their fingers.

Remus moved his hand out and spun them around before pulling them close again. Their cheeks were flushed red, his was as well. He playfully dipped them down when the song ended.

It continued on into a song neither of them knew but they kept dancing anyway. They didn’t stay as pressed close to each other but they always had some contact. Holding hands. An arm around a waist. A head leaning against a chest.

When they finally got back to the bar table they were both panting. Remy was completely leaning on Remus since their body had started to hurt, but even through the pain they were both bubbling over with so much happiness they kept breaking out into bouts of giggling.

To their surprise Logan wasn’t sitting alone. A tall person with long dark hair sat on the chair beside him. Xir hand was on his thigh. The nerd had a soft smile on his face as they leant close to talk.

“Uh Lo?” Remus had to wave his arms around to get his attention.

His head shot around to look at them “Hello” He glanced to the person “These are the ones I was protecting belongings for” He stood up and held out his hand “Shall we?” Xir took it. Logan waved at his friends before going off to the dancefloor with the stranger.

“Huh. Good for him” 

“I guess”

Remy ordered another high alcohol fruit mix. Remus happily chewed on his necklace while humming along to the music. Between their chairs their hands hang with their fingers intertwined. Holding their hand had started to make Remus feel all funny in the head for some reason.

The enby watched on as Logan and the stranger danced for a bit before moving to a corner to make out. When the stranger started to lead him towards the bar’s bathrooms Remy turned to their friend.

“Yeah okay he’s not coming back for like a while. Smoke break?”

“Of course!”

They finished their drink before leaving the bar. The pair stopped right outside. Remus sat down on the side of the pavement. Remy tried to sit down but they stumbled over themself and fell flat on the ground.

Remus got up to help “Are you okay? Are you sure you haven’t drank too much?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine” They laughed out.

He sat them down on the pavement while dusting off their clothes. He patted them on the head while pouting “You should get some water”

“Naaaah babe. I’m good”

In the moonlight the bruise was visible again. That horrible dark purple bruise around their neck. It looked like it hurt.

Remus put his hand on their shoulder “Beanie are you alright? I do know it wasn’t some halloween monster that got you that bruise”

For a moment their whole body tensed, they forced a smile “It’s fine. me and my boyf just tried like some new kinky shit in the bedroom y’know. Nothing more” They lied.

They took out a cigarette pack and a lighter from their bag. They traced their thumb over Remus’ lower lip and opened his mouth just slightly. Remy leaned closer while putting a cigerette between his lips. They lit it.

Remus took a deep breathe. It’d been a while since he’d last smoked. He leaned so close the cigarette nearly touched Remy’s skin. They parced their lips as he breathed out the smoke right into their mouth.

A smile spread on their lips. He held the cigarette over to them but they shook their head. They looked around in their bag again and took out a small poppers bottle.

“Should you really take that. Won’t your brain melt out of your ears?” Remus asked “I really don’t wanna have to slorp up your brain juice...yet”

“Relax babe. It’s like not dangerous as long as I don’t like take too much and I only take when partying” It took a moment before they quietly added “And I only party when I need to get out of the apartement”

“What?”

They forced on a bigger smile “What?”

Remy moved the popper up to their nose and inhaled as much of it as they could. It took a few seconds before they let up into a giggle. It was in a higher tone than their usual bubbly laugh, it almost sounded like cackling. They could see stars.

(U!Virgil mentions from here on out)

“Y’know my boyfriend gave me like a flashback or whatever last night” They giggled while swaying from side to side.

Remus gently grabbed their shoulders and moved them to lean against him so they wouldn’t fall over “Uhu. Did you stab him?”

“No silly. He just. He’d been soooo sweet all weeek and I just I just ruined it ‘cause i like overeacted to some joke he made while like we were washing the dishes” They were barely even aware they were speaking “And like it just kept going until we were like screaming at each other”

Remy was still smiling and giggling between every word but tears started to form in their eyes. Their fingers felt numb. Bile was rising in their throat.

“And he just like threw the plate he was holding down on the ground. And it like didn’t hit me. He wasn’t even aiming at me. He was just throwing it at the ground. But it shattered and it was so stupid and overemotional and stupid and pathetic but I just I just curled up on the floor and like had a panic attack like a stupid baby”

They smeared their hand across their face to try and get the tears away. They felt sick. Remus quickly put out his cigarette, it didn’t feel like the right time to smoke.

“And I just like- Is that normal? Is that fine? Like throwing stutff like that? I-I- he’s never done it before. Or I mean like not plates” They looked up at Remus “Is it fine?”

He gulped while fiddling with his hoodie sleeve “Well uh did he apologize?”

“Mhmm. He like- like for some minutes he like kept yelling ‘cause he thought I was just like faking a panic attack to like I dunno manipulate him but then he like comforted me and like calmed me down and like held me and cuddled all night until I fell asleep and- and he said sorry a bunch of times and like he said it would never happen again. He uh usually doesn’t lie”

“Well ehm then it should be fine right? Right?” They both shrugged at each other “I mean everyone can make mistakes! And it was during an argument! Everyone does drastic things during an arguments! So it’s fine. I think”

A shaking breathe of relief left Remy’s lips. They stretched themself over his lap and he moved his arms around them. “Thanks babe. I was like tots worried for a bit but y’know i was thinking like that too. So it’s fine”

“Yeah” He combed his fingers through their hair “You do know you can vent to me whenever right? I promise I won’t gross you out with details about how to pull out rabbit teeth ever again so if I can hold that back then I can also listen to stuff! I can super listen!!”

They closed their eyes. They felt so tired. So tired and sick and horrible. “Mhm. I know babe. I know”

Remy sent him a soft smile before suddenly puking. Some of it came on his pants but mostly on the ground. Remus stood up and carefully moved them down to a sitting position.

He rubbed up and down their back with one hand and held their hair back with his other. Their shoulders were shaking and they were taking in shallow breathes between every sudden throw up.

“It’s okay beanie-boo. Breathe. Breathe. You got all the time in the world. Until the sun blows up at least”

“I-I took- too much- too much” They slurred out before lurching forward again. It seemed to stop for now.

“I’m aware” He carefully wiped away some of the puke left around their mouth with his hoodie sleeve.

They leaned back against his chest. They closed their eyes and focused on breathing. He held them so so gently. As if they would break like glass otherwise. He pressed a kiss to the top of their head.

“There you are!” Logan said as came through the bar entrance “What a relief. I assumed you had left without me because you thought my actions were unacceptable” He noticed how pale and shaky Remy looked and got a worried look on his face “Is everything alright?”

“They feel like someone has slammed a fish into their stomach. Not good” Remus replied.

“I see. I suppose it woud be best to get them home”

Logan picked Remy up with ease to carry them to his car. He was quite sure he’d carried dogs that weighted more than them. Remus anxiously followed along.

He sat them in the passenger seat. He shook their shoulders until they opened their eyes. They let out a quiet whine.

He held up 4 fingers “Remy how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Fuck yourself”

“Noted”

They moved to the side and seemed to pass out again. Logan closed the door before turning to Remus.

“Did they take anything?” He whispered.

“Only a popper”

“Good. Do you need a ri-”

“Bus”

“Okay” Logan was about to go but stopped midstep and lowered his voice even more “Oh and Rem...Could you please not ask Janus to hang out next weekend? I am planning a surprise...I hope it will make him happy”

“Good luck comrade....Please text me once Remy is home safe. Please?”

“Of course”

He did a little nod before leaving. Logan got into the car. He couldn’t stop looking at the bruise around their neck. Remy continued to sleep for most of the ride until they they were 5 minutes or so away from their apartment. They suddenly flinched awake.

“Stop the car!” They gasped out. 

“Are you still feeling the same?”

“Logan stop the fucking car!” There was fear in their eyes. 

Logan stopped by the side of the road. The road was barren and dark. It had to be past 3 am at least. Remy crawled back into the backseats while their whole body shook.

“Don’t. Look. At. Me”

“Sure” He stared down into the steering wheel to not accidentally see their reflection in the glass.

“I just. I just have to change clothes. I just. I don’t want Virigl to call me a whore again. I mean. He won’t. But what if. What if he gets mad. I just. I just have to change” They slurred out.

They stumbled out of the car after changing into a pair of long pants and closing their leather jacket. A cold chill went up Logan’s spine. He quickly stepped out of the car as well.

“Okay bye bye Logie!!”

They tried to move but Logan grabbed onto their shoulders. He forced back a choking feeling in his throat “What do you mean by your boyfriend getting mad?”

“Pff! It’s nothing! I’m drunk!! Byyyeeeeee”

They started to stumble away but Logan easily followed along “It did not sound like he called you a whor-...you know what...with your consent. I am simply going to remind you that calling a partner things like that is not okay. Not in any circumstance”

Remy’s expression turned cold. They walked faster “I don’t like what you’re implying”

“I’m not implying anything”

“Yes you Fucking are!”

“Exscuse me for being worried about your wellbeing. What you just said sounded like a very bad sign”

“Yeah exactly it only SOUnded bad! My boyfriend isn’t bad!” Remy snarled out.

“I am not saying he is. He doesn’t have to be bad to say awful things, as long as he changes”

They shoved their hands into their pockets. Their hands moved into fists “You don’t know a fucking thing about me. You tried to kiss me once when you were drunk and that’s all. We don’t know each other”

Logan took a deep breathe “I don’t need to know you to see red flags. Remy-” He searched for words “Remy you’re bruised. How- you can’t expect me to not get worried”

Remy suddenly stopped and turned around to meet his eyes. “MY BOYFRIEND ISN’T ABUSIVE! I-”

“I’m not necessarily saying he is. I just wan’t to talk-” His voice started to sound desperate.

They looked like a cornered animal. Tears were brimming at the edges of their eyes “YOU DON’T KNOW A THING!”

“Remy-”

“I DID THIS TO MYSELF!” Their hand went up to the bruise “I DESERVED IT! VIRGIL DIDN’T DO A FUCKING THING! I DID! I TOOK A BELT AND HURT MYSELF! OKAY?! VIRGIL CARES ABOUT ME!”

He tried to sound soothing “Remy please take a deep breathe-”

“NO! NO! YOU KNOW WHAT LOGAN?! THERE IS STILL CUM ON YOUR FUCKING LIPS FROM YOU SUCKING OFF SOME STRANGER IN A DIRTY BATHROOM! SO NO! I AM NOT TAKING LOVE ADVICE FROM SOMEONE WHO IS CHEATING ON HIS GODDAMN WIFE!”

They stormed away. For a moment Logan was frozen in place before he forced himself to run after them to try and make sure they would be okay.

“I am not-”

Remy looked at him for one last time. The look in their eyes made him feel cold. It was pure hatred.

“Logan get the fuck away from me! I am drunk and high and alone on a street with no one but you who is sure as hell fucking stronger than me and all you’re doing is spouting bullshit! So please get why I want you to leave. And why I don’t ever want you to talk to me again!”

He stopped dead in his tracks “...Right....Yes....I am so sorry”

Remy didn’t even respond. They simply turned and walked away. Logan stayed and watched to make sure they got home to the apartment safe before going back to his car.

He slumped down in the seat. His heart was racing and his thoughts were for once an illogical flurry. He sat motionless for several minutes before finally getting some semblence of an idea.

He took out his phone and dialed one of his usual numbers. It took several signals before Emile Picani picked up.

“Mhm? Logie bear? I can’t today I have clients in the morning” He yawned out.

“This is about one of your patients. I am fearing that they are in danger”

In an instant all of the sleepyness in Emile’s voice disappeared “In danger? Physical? Is it urgent? Do I need to call someone? Which patient are you even referring to?”

Logan hesitated. If Remy had reacted that strongly to him just attempting to ask about his boyfriend it was very likely that they would stop going to therapy if Emile brought it up. His throat tightened, he didn’t want to put them in any more danger.

“I....Nevermind Emile....This was just a far too gone joke...Someone dared me to call you. I am sorry. Have a good night”

He ended the call. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a long sigh. His hands held onto the wheel so hard his knuckles whitened.

Logan had no idea what to do. No idea at all. All he knew was fear. Fear for Remy’s safety. Fear for their well being. Fear that anything he did would only make their situation worse.

[prince-toffee]

TRUE COLOURS

Here we go!

Oh no, there’s no intro. Oh fuck, it’s happening.

Flashback!!!! Marcy!!!!!!!

‘PSAT Prep for the soul’

‘Look at this cool bug I found’ I love Marcy

Oh is this going to focus on Sasha’s and Marcy’s relationship? So far we’ve only explored the dynamic between Sasha and Anne.

Oh my god was that Bill???? Wait I have to go back what was on the cover of the book? ‘Dr P’s Extraordinary Guide To Magic and Mystery’ Oh I sense another book for sale. Is this going to be like their ‘Magic Book of Spells’ from Star vs and ‘Journal 3′ from Gravity Falls? You know I’d buy that in a heart beat.

Dad? ‘Come home. We need to talk?’ Oh no. What’s going on?

Yep, divorce, it’s a bitch.

Destiny.

Marcy Wu and Crew. That’s their official team name, like the Justice League or Avengers. u can’t tell me otherwise.

Oh boy, this isn’t going to end well.

GASP IS- IS IT LEGS????? LEGS????

Aww that would be sweet, if the Plantars could go to Earth with Anne. Oh. Do you guys think that’s season 3? It’s a sort of reversal with them being in a different world.

That fucking tower, what is it? A clock? A... a lighter, or a it has to be like a clock, but like a cosmic clock, or whatever.

Real quick before Andreous appears on screen. He said he and his master want to undo the prophecy, what led Marcy to the Box was destiny, all of this is meant to happen, but what ever they do, they need to stay on Amphibia to do it, because Andreous wants them gone.

Keith David, always a win.

Yep! Knew it!

Andreous on all fours, horrifying.

Yep, told you. ‘Maybe I don’t want to rule a school, maybe I want to rule a kingdom.’ She wants power, more importantly she enjoys power!

Come on Andreous, really that’s all you got?

Marcy and Andreous must know each other well and have a lot of trust in each other, if they can understand a nod from the other. It’s heart braking that he’s a villain too. Everybody’s getting betrayed.

Come on, kick her ass Anne!

Oh no, I see it now, Marcy wants to fix the friendship because she doesn’t want Anne and Sasha split apart because it parallels her parents getting divorced, oh god, poor Marcy. That worries me she’s willing to be hurt and betrayed and walked over for them just to stay together with Sasha.

No.

*sigh of relief* Why didn’t it work?

OH BECAUSE OF ANNE NOT CHARGING THE CRYSTAL FULLY!!!!

YES ANNE KILL KILL KILLL

HEADBUTT!!!!!!!!!!!!! CHAD ANNE!!!!!!!!

I HAVEN’T CLAPPED FOR ANYTHING IN THIS SHOW BEFORE BUT THE TRUE HERO HAS ARRIVED! GENERAL YUNAN

HOW DARE YOU SILENCE HER

I love her face.

ANOTHER GASP Are we going to the basement???? No just outside, okay.

Sal’s!!!! See? It’s all connected. And definitely not filler.

‘They do.’ I love her.

Hop Pop finally living out his dream.

Kick their ass Polly! I want Yunan to become Polly’s mentor.

What’s the present?

‘What’s the matter? You don’t like it?’ Worried Toad DadTM

HOLY SHIT WHAT

‘If it is, then it’s a really good thing we stopped him.’ Oh no, so many ‘oh no’s today

Hold on, back up, I need to see the evil-ass painting again, and analyse it using my English Media skills I learned at school. Uh huh, uh huh, I see, it’s the PowerPuff Girls fighting against Him. IT’S A SPACESHIP!? OF COURSE IT’S A SPACE SHIP! IT’S ALWAYS A SPACESHIP! Yep there’s the moss people being eradicated, the music box somehow powering the castle spaceship. Andreous, or maybe an ancestor of Andreous, his father or grandfather maybe, wielding the box under the Sauron Pinecone. Oh and a lot of dead frogs and or toads, nice. Some flame over Anne too. The spark inside our hearts, I’m sure.

Alright, that was a lot, resume please.

Oh no, we’re not even half way through the episode, that’s not good.

Ah you see! The boy who cried wolf! Anne’s not gonna believe you now!

Oh I love the animation on this fight.

‘My one good eye.’

Yeah, but also no, but yeah, but no... this is a lose-lose situation.

Oh no, still an entire half of the episode to go.

Oh god that face.

What’s gonna happen?

LORE TIME IS EVIL TIME!!!!!!

OH SHIT OH SHIT UHHH A LOT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW

IT’S A FUCKING GUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT’S A FUCKING GUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE TOWER IS A FUCKING GUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT’S NOT A CLOCK, IT’S A FUCKING GUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Best reveal.

...what... she... she knew...

EVERYBODY IS GETTING BETRAYED!!!!!!

‘TRUE COLOURS’ THIS TITLE HAS SO MANY MEANINGS

THAT WAS THE PROPOSITION! FUCK!

THE NOISE I JUST MADE

WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!????

MARCY YOU’RE SOUNDING INSANE!

No.

‘I gave you this.’

Nice flame sword.

No, no, no, I’m crying.

So Anne’s a super saiyan now.

THE ANIMATION

WHAT

WHAT DO YOU MEAN INTO THE PORTAL, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?????!!?!!!!

.   .   .

what