#but either way it would have happened with the sap if not with the sleep

[marvelouslizzie]

just let me make you feel better

summary: after a long day of work, you finally come back home and rest. your period is making your day miserable but your boyfriend is here to help you.

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader 

word count: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, period comfort, established relationship, pet names, mentions of menstruation pain, a little bit of period stigma, comfort offering, sexual activity during the period, nipple play, clit play, fingering, after care, obviously blood, unrealistic portrayal of male partners, no mention of y/n.

a/n: I just wanted to write a Bucky Barnes offers to comfort you during your period story so here we are. Unfortunately, this kind of care is really rare so I’m sorry for fucking up your expectations about men. Most of them don’t even do the bare minimum. This concept would shock them but don’t settle for anything less.

Thank you @notafunkiller and @es1dit for beta-reading and helping me better this story. Love you both!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. 

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

God, you can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s not the worst day of your life, you know it, but still, the freaking pain just doesn’t want to go away. At least, not completely. It finds different ways to crawl back to you and keep you suffering.

You tried a lot of stuff, starting with good old painkillers. There’s no denying that the pill is helping you, but it’s just not good enough. Your back is hurting, joints are feeling sore and there’s still a headache on the back of your head that no matter how many painkillers you take, keeps lingering and torturing you. Like bleeding isn’t enough.

Yeah, being on your period and working at the same time is no fun. It’s not even bearable. Still, you make it through the day and come back just to drop on the couch. You really want to get rid of these clothes, take a hot shower and change into something comfortable, but you just don’t have the energy. Mentally, you are already doing all this stuff, imagining how good it would feel to stand under the hot water and just let it relax your muscles. Yet your legs don't want to move. You just lay on the couch like a bag of potatoes.

As you drift between sleep and being awake, you hear the keys jingling, signaling that your boyfriend is home. Is it weird that you can already smell him while he’s standing across the room? You have no idea but you can. It just feels like something…  familiar. You have no idea how it works, but it makes you feel safe even though he did nothing but step into the apartment.

“Darling?” Bucky calls out because he isn’t used to not being greeted by you when he comes home. Usually, you are either going toward him or yelling “Welcome home, baby” from wherever you are.

You can’t find the strength to call out so you groan a little while raising your hand. God, his expression changes so quickly. He walks towards you at a trot.

“Are you alright?”

“I am.” You are just exhausted, nothing out of the ordinary. Especially not at this time of the month.

“Are you sure? You don’t look alright.”

“It’s that time of the month again.” The worried expression on his face slowly fades away when he notices you are actually alright. It makes you wonder what he thought happened to you, but you don't ask him.

“Oh, darling…” His voice is so caring. Your period completely saps you of your energy and he knows it. He knows how you suffer or what you do to make yourself feel better. “Did you take a painkiller?”

“Yes.” Of course, you did. That was the first thing you thought of.

“When?”

You stop for a second to think. “In the morning and after lunch.”

“So you can take another one now, right?” 

That’s a good question. You can take another pill, but your stomach is already protesting at that thought. You should eat something before taking it, but you don’t feel like cooking. Even the thought is exhausting.

“But first you will need food.” God, is he reading your mind or what?

“I don’t feel like–” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s already standing up and making his way to the kitchen.

“I will prepare something for you.” When your words register, he turns around and looks at you. “You don’t wanna eat anything?”

“No, no. I was going to say I don’t feel like preparing anything.” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” He turns around. “Don’t worry. I will make your favorite.”

You have yet to learn what he means by that because you have many favorites. A meal, sandwich, snack, or dessert? You find out what he means when he comes back with your favorite sandwich, a glass of water, and the painkiller you use only during your period. You love him for paying enough attention to notice that.

“Eat while I draw a bath for you. Warm water should help.”

Why didn’t you think about filling the tub and just sitting there? The thought of laying there for a while sounds so much more appealing than a quick shower. It doesn’t take long for you to finish the whole sandwich and take the pill. Your stomach isn’t protesting anymore, and neither are your taste buds. Still, the pain and that discomfort are there, lingering and making you regret being born. Men don’t have to suffer like this and it’s so unfair! You hate mankind for that privilege. While you are lost in your thoughts, Bucky comes out of the bathroom and you notice: No, you don’t hate the whole of mankind. There’s one exception. You can’t hate Bucky when he’s the most thoughtful person you've ever met.

“The bathtub is ready for you. Did you finish your sandwich?” He kind of sounds like a teacher or a parent, checking if you did everything you were supposed to.

“Yep, all done.” You gesture to the plate. “Took the painkiller, too.”

“Good job, doll.” He comes closer without taking his eyes off of you. “Wanna head to the bathroom now?”

“Yes, but I need to take some clothes with me first.”

“Don’t worry, I will take care of it. Just get in there and relax, okay?”

You just nod with a small smile on your lips. When he takes care of you like this, you feel so lucky and so seen. You never asked him to do any of this stuff for you. Occasionally, you just said “I don’t feel like cooking” thinking you would order take out or you asked for a painkiller, but he registered all that information and started to do things without you asking. Seeing how he paid attention and cared about you just makes you feel valued.

You have no idea how long you have been laying in the bathtub. It was nearly perfect with the bubbles and the scent. You expected him to show up and tell you what to do next, but that did not happen. After a while, you decide to properly clean yourself and drain the bathtub. That’s when you notice he put your towels to warm on the radiator, which instantly makes you smile. You wrap your hair with one and dry your body with the other. Thinking you might bleed around, you quickly leave the bedroom to find your clothes. 

While you are thinking if you should go for a pad or a tampon, you find your missing boyfriend in your bedroom. Your clothes are already chosen and set aside, your favorite pajamas waiting for you.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“A little better. The painkiller started to work its magic.” You walk towards your clothes to put them on as quickly as possible, still thinking about the blood.

Bucky quickly gets in your way. “No need to rush.”

“No, no, I really need to rush.” He gives you a look that makes you think he's confused. “I don’t have a tampon on. I will bleed on the floor.”

“And?” His tone is so carefree, it confuses you.

“And we will have to clean it, Bucky.” You state the obvious.

“Then we will clean it.” He makes things sound so natural, so casual. Like it’s the most normal thing on earth, but you are conditioned to think that you shouldn’t bleed around, that you should take care of any mess you make.

“You don’t wanna see that.”

“Maybe I do.” His answer comes instantly, surprising you.

“Believe me, you don’t.” You make a move in the direction of your clothes, but Bucky doesn’t let you.

“Bucky!” 

“Darling, I have been fighting for god knows how long. Do you think your period blood would disturb me?” His question sounds so genuine, you stop to think for a second. He has a point, but not really. It's a different kind of blood.

“I mean it’s not the same, is it?” 

“Yeah, it’s not.” The confirmation you expect finally comes. “I’m used to seeing blood caused by violence, not by nature.”

Wait, what?

You don’t know how to react to this. Of course, it is natural, but it is also torture and it makes a mess every time. A huge mess. Usually, your exes were disturbed by the idea, keeping a respectful distance while you were on your period, but apparently not Bucky. His fingers were already grazing your skin carefully. He looks into your eyes, asking for permission silently.

“I really don’t feel like it, Bucky.” You hate saying no to him, but the pain is still there. You are sure it will make things uncomfortable.

“I’m just asking for permission to touch you, doll. I’m not asking for anything else.” He keeps confusing you tonight. 

“What do you mean?”

“Just let me make you feel better.” His answer is simple, but not enough for you to understand his meaning. What does he mean by that?

“I think having you there now isn’t a great idea, Buck. I’m in pain and a little bit too sensitive.” You try to explain as simply as possible.

“Darling… There are other ways to make you feel better, or did you forget about those? Maybe I should remind you, huh?” Gosh, the smug smile creeping up his lips… It sends shivers down your spine. “Just lay down.” He gestures to the bed.

“I will blee–”

“Shh…” He doesn’t let you finish. “Just be a good girl and stop thinking too much.”

For fuck's sake… A good girl? He definitely knows how to shut your brain up. You slowly sit down on the bed and notice a big towel under you. He already thought about everything, so you won’t have to worry. So you can just enjoy this. If that’s what he wants, you can do that. You can shut your mind for a short while and try to enjoy yourself. 

As he lies down next to you, he turns his entire body in your direction and props himself up on his elbow. His flesh fingers start to caress your skin very lightly, making their way to the towel you wrapped around your body. 

“It is time to…” His fingers work quickly to undo the towel. “...take this off.”

He sounds somehow impatient. Maybe just to see you naked or hear the sounds you make while he touches you all the ways he knows you love. His fingers move to your nipple, fingertips grazing over carefully. As he touches you so lightly, another wave of goosebumps washes over you. It's not normal for you to be this sensitive, but your nipples are already hard. Your lips tremble as he moves closer and gives one a long lick.

“God, damn it.” You mutter and he instantly looks up.

“Should I stop?” The way he asks the question shows how concerned and focused he is.

“No, no.” You take a deep breath. “Just be gentle. I’m just…”

“Sensitive, I know.” He smiles and dives back in. His tongue swirls around your nipple over and over again until you start to cry out.

“Fuck!” That’s so unexpected. The pleasure you are feeling is foreign. Nipple play never felt like this before. “It feels so– so good.”

He moves his mouth away with a wet pop just to say: “Yes, surrender yourself to the feeling, darling.” Then he goes back to sucking your nipple, while his metal hand is massaging your other breast. It’s such an amazing change after feeling pain for hours and you can’t help but crave more. Your hips are rising unintentionally. Bucky’s flesh hand moves down to your body, sliding between your folds really carefully, but it makes you push your hips up again.

You've never felt this wet in your life. You are sure your period has a lot to do with it, but god… That’s not the only reason. The way he’s paying attention to your breasts, the way his index finger is working between your folds… It feels like magic. His fingers start rubbing on your clit and the next thing you know you're moaning his name over and over again. Whenever you moan, his tongue becomes more relentless around your nipple. The pleasure hits you suddenly, it takes your breath away.

“Buck–” Your back arches like a bow. “Oh my go–”

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even hesitate for a second. His fingers and tongue work you through your orgasm until you start to feel a little sensitive. You let a long breath out, proving how satisfied you feel.

Finally, he lets go of your nipple and looks up. Hair messed up, lips swollen and eyes glossy. “How are you feeling?”

“Great.” You breathe out again and it makes him smile widely. So fucking widely… “I feel great.” His hand rests on your pussy while his head is on your upper body. You lean down a little and he meets you in the middle in a messy kiss. God, his lips are the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. They're nearly sweet and just intoxicating.

You sigh loudly, feeling so much better than before. The pain is the last thing on your mind. You actually think about a possible second orgasm already and a little smile creeps up on your lips.

“What?” He asks wondering what you are thinking.

“I think I want a bit more.” 

“Oh, you do?” He is fully smirking now. You just nod while biting one side of your lower lip. “Would it be okay if I put my fingers inside? Would that be comfortable for you?”

“I hope so. We can try and if it’s uncomfortable, I'll tell you.”

“What a good girl you are.”

Before you can say anything in return, his fingers move a little down and he pushes one of them inside.

“Bucky!” The sudden pleasure catches you off guard.

“Sorry, sorry. I will go slow.” He moves himself a little bit up, just to be able to kiss you comfortably. You look at him and excitement is written all over his face. He’s actually enjoying this even though he isn’t getting off himself, and you love how your pleasure affects him. Licking your lips, you close the little distance between you two. 

He kisses you deeply while moving his finger in and out. He’s using just one, but dear god… you are so sensitive. It feels so good even though you aren’t completely filled. Slowly, he pushes the second finger inside, crooking them and rubbing them along a spot where you can see stars. Your mouth suddenly opens as you let out a loud moan. You are unable to kiss him back, it feels like your whole body just tensed up and your muscles stopped working.

“Yes! God, yes.” You manage to say while he keeps on working. “Just like that.”

“Don’t worry, doll.” He speeds up a little. “I won’t stop.”

He keeps working his fingers while kissing your neck. You can feel your second orgasm approaching and it feels so good, but also not enough.

“Please…” You beg without thinking. “Please…”

“Tell me what you want.” His voice sounds so deep, so full of desire.

“Faster. A little faster.” You take a deep breath. “I’m so– close.”

He doesn’t make you ask twice, just starting to move his fingers a little faster and that’s all it takes. 

“Bucky!” You scream so loudly that it surprises even you, but it’s too late to bite your lip. The overwhelming pleasure takes over, making you scream so loudly that Bucky thinks all your neighbors know what you are up to. And he doesn’t care. They should know he is the one making you feel this good. He is the one who makes you forget about your pain and mindlessly moan his name like a prayer.

When you come down from your high, you feel boneless. It’s like your whole body relaxed after the blinding pleasure. Maybe it’s the mixture of the orgasms and the painkiller you took, but you are too tired to care. 

While you stretch your arms, you notice Bucky isn’t next to you anymore. You look around to see where he went and he comes out of the bathroom with another towel in his hand.

“Looking for me?” God, his smile is so smug, but you can’t blame him. The way you just screamed his name without having his cock inside you… That must have boosted his ego. Rightfully so. His fingers are magical. And his tongue. Also his lips. The way he turns you on so much and pulls this pleasure out of you is unbelievable.

“Yes. Why did you leave me?” You know he didn’t but you like to play.

“Just got a wet towel for you.” He kneels in front of the bed, between your legs and you prop up on your elbows to see what he’s doing. He gently moves the towel on your thighs and wipes the blood he smeared while making you scream his name.

“I could clean myself. You didn’t have to.” 

“I know you can, doll. Nobody said you can’t.” He rubs the towel against your slit and you jump a little, feeling sensitive. He notices your reaction and tries to do it more carefully. “I just want to help you.” After he’s done wiping, he folds the towel and puts it away. Immediately after, he grabs your clothes and helps you get dressed: your underwear first (and no, he did not forget about the pads), then your pajamas. In a couple of seconds, you're clean and all dressed up. “Now it’s time to rest.”

You move backward and get under the covers while watching him collect the towels all over the room and put them in the dirty laundry bin. It amazes you how he doesn’t forget about anything. He doesn’t let any small detail bother or worry you. You hear him washing his hands and he comes back with a smile on his face. 

You don’t know how you got this lucky. Having a loving and caring boyfriend like him… Getting taken care of like this… You remember how your friends talk about their boyfriends and how they do absolutely nothing. You know that’s not how a relationship should be, but you also know how rare this is. Your eyes wander back to him while he is getting undressed, showing you how incredibly hard he is. Yet he didn’t even make a move to relieve himself. He didn’t ask for a hand or begged to be inside you like he does sometimes. He put you first and unfortunately that’s even rarer.

He quickly puts on his pajamas and slips right next to you in bed. His arms are already around your waist, pulling you closer. You carefully move your hand down and palm his still rock-hard erection.

“Nope.” His answer is simple yet firm.

“Let me take care of you, Bucky.” You try to say as sweetly as possible. You want to return the favor.

“Not tonight, darling.” He gently moves your hand away. “But I promise, you can do whatever you want to me when you feel better, alright?”

“Alright.” He’s right. You are feeling sleepy already, you can do this another time. 

After all, you are his and he is yours. You have all the time in the world.

He pulls you even closer, putting his head on your shoulder behind your back.

“It’s time to sleep.”

“I love you Bucky.” You say while feeling the weight on your eyelids. It’s hard to keep them open.

“I love you too, darling.”

[ayyyez]

"Extra fandom options" she says, as if she means anything other than haikyuu 😂 Heheh of course you may do whatever you want always but you know what I'm here for, gotta be on brand.

SO if you have any thoughts of Tanaka and Ennoshita in a romantic relationship headcannons, either solo or in a poly relationship, I'd love to read them! Fluff and/or spicy, you know I'll happily read and gush over what you write. Thanks and you look good today!

Also first.

a/n: not these sitting in my inbox forever. But hey look I’ve finally gotten around to them bc I wanna think about hq while my sinuses hate me 😂 but im doing these first for you 🫡

Tags: relationship headcanons, fluff, kissing, spooning, confessing, poly (at the end)

Characters: Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Ennoshita Chikara (with x reader and poly [seperated])

Tanaka

God this guy is the most in love sap you would ever encounter but he’s so endearing.

After the whole ‘marry me’ Kiyoko situation he decides to hold back a little when he has a crush. But this is by Tanakas standards. His holding back is he very obviously has a crush on you but isn’t asking you out (or to marry you) right away.

Being near you and gestures are his go to. It’s canon. And how he reacts depends on how you are.

If you’re the type to go out of your way to talk to him then he’s like doki doki BEST DAY EVER! but also isn’t 10/10 intense every time you talk to him. He chills a little. BUT STILL DEDICATED TO YOU.

If you’re more naive or the shy type then just a small smile from you is enough to get him through the day. Very much oh boy they looked at me I’m the best wing spiker in the world.

To get into a relationship with him one of two things need to happen.

One: you gotta give him a sign that you are into him. Flirt-Tease him about his antics (particularly the taking shirt of woo) or just give him a compliment saying you’re into him. Give him smiles more than anyone else. Then he’s just ‘go out with me PLEASE.’

Two: ask him out. He will combust and Tanaka.exe will stop working for a moment. But then he’s like OKAY. (Doesn’t wanna fuck it up and over do it. It’s steered him wrong before)

Dating this guy means waking up the luckiest person ever. You are SPOILED with attention, gestures and affection.

Man is a personal heater. Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter longs you be spooning.

A bit of a restless sleeper and sleep talker. It’s kinda funny the silly things he says. One time yelled ‘LEFFFFT’ in his sleep.

The only way to stop the wriggling is spooning him harder than you’ve spooned before. Still has a stray leg flicking every now and again but it’s better.

His first kiss has him sweating the details. Wants to make it perfect like in those manga he reads but overthinks it. He takes ages to do it if you want him to initiate.

Just kiss him honestly. The reaction is worth it. The reddest blush. Once again stops working.

Once he’s done it though his smooches are so good. Passionate boy starts soft then HES HUNGRY FOR MORE. Very intense. Kinda awkward with his tongue at first but he gets it.

He’s big on physical touch but it doesn’t have to be big. A hand held is gold to him. Cuddling is just something he lives for.

Cannot handle alcohol so you’re carrying (or organising others to) carry his ass home. Super sappy and happy drunk. ‘I love… youuuuuu’. A crier too. He just feels extra hard.

Get a couple into him though and he dances like no one’s watching. Actually not half bad until he starts stripping. Only you can stop him. He’s too obsessed with you to care about anything else he was doing.

Makeouts on the couch are BIG with him. Won’t take it further until you ask. Gotta be a gentleman. Yes even when his hands are squeezing your ass.

Ennoshita Chikara

The type to silently indulge in his crush every now and again while FIGHTING and PUSHING those feelings down.

At least, that’s how it is at first. He will be your friend first so he doesn’t want to compromise that. Just let’s pretend we don’t feel that for now shall we?

As if he could hold that back. It takes a while but it’s not long before something pushes him (he’s afraid of losing you) and he’s spilling his feelings.

He may be spilling but he’s seems like he’s confident with the monologue that comes out of his mouth. When he finishes his eyes are just wide and staring at your shoes. Evidently he was not so confident.

Grab one of this clenched fists. Pull his chin up to face you. Tell him you feel (maybe not in as many words as he did) the same way.

‘Are you sure!?’ ENNOSHITA PLEASE.

Honestly takes a while to accept it but once he does he is noticeably on top of the world.

Doesn’t announce it to the world but once people asks he’s smuggly like YEP WE ARE INDEED DATING peasants. Like damn Ennoshita.

A very caring and protective guy. Lets you do your thing while watching your back from the sidelines. Will punch people for you but won’t let that slip.

Very much a words of affirmation, tease and quality time dude.

Will go with the flow but will absolutely take charge.

His first kisses are those cute gesture ones. A kiss on the cheek, a peck on the lips or a smooch planted on the forehead.

You gotta grab this man by the cheeks and just plant one passionate kiss on him. That leaves him frozen for a second and then oop self control gone. MAKE OUT TIME.

More of an alone time physical touch guy but will break that when he’s particularly ehem into you. Or if some jerk thinks they can pick you up.

Plants one on you while maintaining eye contact with said jerk. Or places a very in your face arm around your shoulders.

Very much a big spoon guy. It just makes him feel protective. Also kind of like he’s leeching your hair warmth.

Pretty chill sleeper. Once he’s out he doesn’t move much. Sometimes you wake up facing him and he’s blowing air in your face (sleep breathing).

Kiss his nose and he’ll scrunch it in his sleep and let out a soft ‘mmm?’ But doesn’t wake up.

Tanaka and Ennoshita poly

You’re all in a relationship. Tanaka and Ennoshita included. Their crush on each other goes back a while they just never wanted to admit it.

You coming into their lives kind of makes it easier. Well eventually.

Once they realise they both have a crush on you both of them want to be the better man and let them have you. (Even if a small part inside them is screaming for the opposite).

It’s up to you to set them down and be like ‘nah uh I’ll have both’ and then also set them onto the path of realising they also like each other. It’s a very eventful week.

Ennoshita is still the big spoon. You’re the middle. Tanaka is either little or wrapped around you like a Koala. Depends on the day.

Ennoshita is the wrangler and kind of takes charge when he needs to. Tanaka is the passionate but also softy. It’s up to you whether you want to continuously go with the flow or take charge every now and again.

Just imagine sitting on the couch between them and taking turns making out. Start with Tanaka then come up for air and turn to Ennoshita. He’s a bit more intense when he’s second, handsy too. Then sit back and watch them kiss each other.

Every now and again you get home late and find them either cuddling or asleep in each others arms on the couch with some movie playing in the background.

Ennoshita brings his (grand) movie collection to the relationship. Tanaka brings his home gym. You tie it all together by hyping up both.

[soft-mafia]

When We Were Young [Buggy x Reader] Pt. 3

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

warnings: fem reader, oc insert, smut, nsfw, fingering, period sex, Buggy detaching his cock, semi-public sex

a/n: Actually I think you can both imagine this as either LA Buggy or anime Buggy. I’m proud of myself for staying this consistent.

The tension from last night was still thick in the air, Y/n had been a bit tipsy, but she wasn’t drunk enough that she didn’t remember anything the next morning. When she woke up on the deck, she saw Buggy looking out at the sea with a spyglass. After stretching her arms out and putting on her clothes, she stood up and walked over to him.

Holding onto his arm, she looked up at him, “Where are we going?”

Buggy found a way to wiggle his arm out of her grip without it looking too obvious. In his mind he was still upset, feeling used and discarded. He avoided her gaze, lowering the spyglass.

“I planned a route for us, we’re going to a town called Vitigus. I’ll look for some sad saps down on their luck to recruit, we’re gonna need a crew at some point.” He said, then looked down at her before averting his gaze yet again, “And I’m guessing you want some new clothes too…”

Y/n immediately noticed something off with his tone, he wasn’t his cheery self, “You ok?”

Sighing, he shook his head before walking off, “Perfectly fine, I don’t know why you care.” His words couldn’t help but offend Y/n slightly, I don’t know why you care, why would he say something like that? She crossed her arms and followed him to wherever he was going. Storming down to the lower deck, she walked into the room he was standing in. He seemed to be tossing out some old stuff left by the previous owner of the ship they stole, stuff that he didn’t think he needed. Buggy shrugged and tossed out a picture of the former captain’s family.

“What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” Y/n crossed her arms, confronting him about his previous comment.

Buggy was silent, he then looked around the room, holding an ugly looking lamp, “If I want this to be my captain’s quarters we need to paint these walls…” he said before tossing the lamp out. Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Did I do something to make you upset? Was it last night? I thought we both wanted that…”

“Oh you remembered?” Buggy finally looked at her, a sour glare in his eyes, “I thought you were too shit faced.”

“I wasn’t drunk, Buggy. Just a bit tipsy… and what’s the problem with that anyway?” Y/n crossed her arms again and stepped closer to him, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair. However, she didn’t get a chance to because Buggy immediately tucked those flowing blue locks back into his beanie.

“Oh don’t act like you didn’t drink just so you could have an excuse.” Buggy snapped at her, “An excuse for why you would ever sleep with me. I should’ve known- I should’ve known you weren’t actually into me!! You just wanted sex, but the only guy around just happened to be an ugly freak!!”

Y/n’s jaw dropped as she heard Buggy speak, she then got angry, gently shoving Buggy back, “Is that what you think happened?! You think you’re ugly…? You think I wasn’t into you?!”

“Nobody’s “into me”!! Nobody in their right mind would even think about me unless they were drunk!!” Buggy yelled, jabbing a finger into her chest, pushing her back a bit. He then sighed and turned away, holding his head in his hands, “Let’s just drop it ok, pretend it never happened.”

“Buggy- no-…” Y/n started and tried walking towards him, but he quickly walked further and moved around her, going to walk out of the room.

Y/n quickly stepped after him again, “Buggy if you’d just let me explain!” He slammed the door in her face, the sound of his footsteps were heavy as he stomped back towards the deck. Y/n was left alone in the room with her thoughts. She decided to just give him the space that he needed, she needed it just as much as he did just to clear her head and think about what he told her. Maybe she did make a mistake coming onto him too early, and perhaps the alcohol did drive her a bit, but it wasn’t in the way he was twisting it. What she wanted desperately was to make things right with him, but now was not the right time, so she decided to do what he said— pretend it never happened.

After a good while, Y/n came back up onto the deck, seeing Buggy looking back out at the sea. She walked up and stood next to him, leaning over the railing. They didn’t say anything to each other for a few minutes before Buggy finally spoke up, “We should be there any minute.” He shoved his spyglass back into his back pocket before looking back down at Y/n, he looked at her for a while before looking back out at sea. He didn’t think she was actually into him, she was probably using him for her own pleasure or something, he couldn’t believe that someone like her would like him.

“What was it like?” Y/n looked up at him, “Being on the pirate king’s crew?”

Buggy shrugged, “I got to see a lot of things, traveled all across the world.” He looked back down at her then chucked, “Would you believe me if I told you I went up into the sky?”

“No way.” Y/n scoffed at him.

“No it’s true! I saw this massive golden bell tower, or something.” Buggy said, “If I can find a way back up there I’ll show you myself, maybe we can take it back with us.” He gave her a pat on the head.

“So more food, clothes, paint job for the ship, a crew…” Buggy listed off things that they needed once they arrived at the harbor. Y/n had lowered the anchor, then hopped down onto the deck beside of him, “Where the hell are you gonna find someone to paint an entire ship in one day?”

“I never said it had to be in one day.” Buggy shrugged, “We can stay here as long as we need— hey look!” He turned her, looking off in the distance at a giant circus tent.

“Looks like the circus is in town…” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Wanna go check it out?!” Buggy’s mood seemed to brighten up at the sight of that giant tent in the distance, he didn’t even give her time to actually answer before he was pulling her along with him.

Buggy used the two berries he had in his pocket to get Y/n some cotton candy, “These are people I don’t want you to steal from. Just as a respect for the art, they don’t get paid enough as it is, the least you can do is buy the food.” He led her into the tent and they took their seats, they sat huddled up together, it was quite cold inside, not as cold as when they had to snuggle up at the lodge, but chilly. Buggy felt his cheeks burn when he felt her huddling up next to him, his heart clenched in his chest, but his attention was quickly taken away by the theatrics.

“Hey, maybe I can find someone here who can paint my ship!” Buggy leaned to Y/n as they continued to enjoy the show. Y/n looked up at him, mouth full of cotton candy, it quickly melted, giving her another craving for the sweet, soft flavor, making her take another bite.

Buggy and Y/n stayed for the next 3 shows before the circus began to close for the night. They spent all day at the circus rather than get anything done like they had both planned, but they walked out of the tent giggling and laughing to themselves, all previous tension from their morning argument had vanished. “This is my first time ever going to a circus before.” Y/n said, looking up at Buggy.

“Are you joking?! I used to go all the time whenever I would see one, I’d drag the entire crew with me!” Buggy giggled, “I used to stay for hours… one time they almost left me behind cause I snuck back into the tent.”

Y/n giggled as she listened to him, she couldn’t help but find him so adorable, his voice and his smile, and that glimmer in his eyes, “I take it you were quite the handful back then, huh?” Buggy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“A little bit…” he then looked up at the sky, “Oh shit, it’s really that late? Damn we got nothing done…” he sighed. Y/n shrugged and looked back up at him, holding onto his arm.

“I’m sure there’s some stores still open, you can help me pick out some clothes if you want?” She smiled up at him. That suggestion made Buggy’s eyes widen, a sudden thought coming into his mind. He paused in his tracks and looked down at Y/n.

“Wait— you want me to… help you try on clothes?”

Y/n scrunched her nose and laughed at him, “That’s not what I meant,” she giggled, “I just need someone to carry them for me.”

Buggy let out a heavy breath, his shoulders slumping, though he wasn’t sure if it was out of relief or disappointment, he then ran to Y/n as she began to walk off, “Hey! Wait a minute! Neither of us have cash!”

She turned back to look at him, “Who said we would need any of that?”

“Don’t steal everything, ok?” Buggy whispered to her as they walked into a boutique, Y/n just brushed him off and walked over to the belts, she took one and wrapped it around her hips, an action that made heat rise to Buggy’s cheeks yet again. What he wouldn’t give to have his hands all over her again— why was he thinking this? She wasn’t even into him, he shouldn’t even think about it.

Y/n buzzed around the store, grabbing clothes like a little fairy before dragging him over to the changing rooms. He waited outside near the stalls, sighing to himself. He looked at all of the clothes she laid out, folded right beside him on the bench. Tight clothing, mostly black, sometimes a bit of white or gray. He then got a glimpse of the undergarments, small panties and lace bras— he quickly placed the regular clothes back over them and sat rather uncomfortably, waiting for Y/n to just get this over with.

“Buggy?” She called out from her stall, “I need some help.”

“Yeah, what is it?” He stood and walked up to the door.

“Can you come in?”

Her request made Buggy do a double take, his mouth hung open for a moment, was he allowed to do that? He looked around, nobody seemed to be paying attention… he stepped inside, immediately shutting the door behind himself. Buggy almost fainted when he saw that she was wearing nothing but her panties. He covered his eyes, even though it was nothing he hadn’t seen before— “Y/n!!”

“Look, Buggy… I get that me being tipsy wasn’t the best way to have our first time.” She said, stepping closer to him until she had him pinned up against the door, she slowly peeled his hand away from his face, “Let me make things up to you, if you’ll let me?” She held his face, light stubble grazing her palms.

Buggy was flabbergasted to say the least, first time? Implying there would be more, how horny was this girl?! “Do you have to do this right now?!” He whispered at her, but he couldn’t stop his hands from gravitating towards her hips, running up to her waist, her skin felt like feathers beneath his fingers and it sent an aroused chill through his body, he couldn’t resist gently squeezing her waist.

“Why not?” Y/n shrugged, smiling at him with a flirtatious glint in her eyes before she pulled him in for a kiss, “I’m into you, Buggy. I told you, I’ll be yours forever.”

Buggy breathed out shakily, his breath was warm, and her cold breath gave him even more chills, he couldn’t even hide how hungry he was when he kissed her. Immediately, his hands went to the small of her back and he pushed his lips against hers. After pulling away, Y/n turned and pressed her back against his chest, taking one of his hands and bringing it up so he could grope her breast while his other hand was making its way down to her crotch.

He didn’t quite understand her, more so why she was doing this. Y/n could have any man she wanted, and it wasn’t like he was holding her hostage or anything, she was free to bang any man in this town if she wanted. Hell, she could probably put the whole circus under her spell. Was she just doing this to spare his feelings? Of course not, no one would go this far. Even though he still couldn’t wrap his head around it, this felt too good for Buggy to want to stop, he wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted. Her body felt like cream flowing through his arms every time he held her, and the pillowy and soft feeling when he squeezed her lit a fire in his pants, granted he’s only had a few tastes of her, but it was so damn addicting already.

He slipped his fingers into her panties, she was soaking wet, it was like a mini ocean in there, he dug his fingers into her and she gushed around them, making him shiver, “Damn… you’re so fucking horny.” Buggy whispered hoarsely, digging his fingers in and out, remembering to rub her clit just like she told him. She was moaning, trembling and gasping in his arms, making sure to keep quiet. He had a thought to bring his fingers up to his lips to get a real taste of her, but his eyes widened when he saw his fingers coated with red, blood.

“Oh fuck.” Y/n immediately pulled herself away, “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize— I didn’t check! I mean I was cramping but I didn’t think it was-” She put a hand over her forehead, thoroughly embarrassed as she tried to look around for something to wipe his hand off with. However, when she looked back at Buggy, he had his fingers in his mouth, licking it off.

There was a good silence between the two of them as she stared at him, mouth hung open.

“Uh… should I have done that?” Buggy asked, “Asking you, as a doctor.”

“You shouldn’t have…” Y/n blinked, “But you just did.”

Buggy stared at her, wide eyed, “I’m not gonna die, right?”

“I mean, no, but-” Y/n didn’t have a moment to get the next word out before Buggy was lifting her up, slamming her against the wall as he smushed his lips against hers again. With one arm he held her up while he quickly took off his belt and let his pants fall around his ankles. Once his cock was out, he attempted to shuffle forward, “Damn stupid bench.” He growled, cursing the bench in this cramped stall that dug into his knees.

He had no other choice but to detach his penis, he moved her panties to the side with his thumb. Y/n leaned her head back and moaned as he rubbed his tip against her clit just the way she liked it, she trembled and bit her lip, then tilted her head up to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes was pure hunger, almost starvation. He then smirked once he pushed his cock all the way inside of her, the way her expression shifted into slight shock at the feeling of being stretched out by him once again.

He held her face, beginning to thrust his cock in and out of her; he found himself having a lot more freedom having his cock detached like this, he could go as fast as he wanted without having to move a muscle at all. Buggy squished Y/n’s cheeks together to keep her from making too much noise, he chuckled, “Quiet now. You wanted to do this here,” he whispered, “If you get caught with me balls deep in this bloody cunt then it’s gonna be on you, understand?” He growled.

Y/n let out a soft, muffled moan, she nodded slowly, looking up at him with helpless eyes as pleasure raked through her body. Buggy couldn’t get enough of the sight below him, her breasts bouncing as he held her up against the wall, her legs squeezing around his torso encouraged him to dig his cock in deeper; it felt good.

Buggy loosened the grip he had on her face, only so he could shut her up with another sloppy kiss, he might’ve drooled on her a bit, but nothing else mattered in his moment, he continued to thrust, probably splattering that shit everywhere but he’d deal with it later.

“I want it inside…” Y/n panted out after Buggy pulled away for air.

He looked at her, “Again? Are you sure?”

She nodded, then let out a choked moan as she came on his cock, the pressure of her clenching around him sent another shiver down his spine and before he knew it he was spilling inside of her again. They were both panting softly, making sure not to be too loud, Buggy slowly lowered her back down, helping her stand. His cum dripped down her leg. It mixed with her blood, making it look pink. It was actually pretty cool, but Buggy was too exhausted to make a comment about it.

“Are you not gonna get any new clothes?” Y/n looked up at him, sitting down on the bench.

Looking down at her, he shrugged, leaning against the wall to keep himself balanced, “Nah, I don’t think I need to.”

Y/n crossed her arms and gave him a look, “You don’t have a shirt and you’ve been wearing those pants for who knows how long.” She stood up and used a napkin to wipe herself off, then put on her clothes, “C’mon I’ll help you pick something out.”

They ended up sneaking out through the back, carrying piles of clothes in their arms. They ran all the way down the street, fortunately not a lot of people were out after dark, so they ran all the way back to shore where their ship was. “I- I just stole…” Buggy gulped, looking down at all of Y/n’s clothes, and the shirts he picked out.

“Yeah?” Y/n panted heavily, “You wanna be a pirate? Get used to it.”

Her words hung heavy over Buggy’s head, this wasn’t the kind of pirate that Roger would’ve wanted him to be, he could just imagine the disappointment he would be feeling right now. But if Shanks would’ve done this he would’ve found some excuse to make it acceptable. Buggy scowled internally and shook his head, tossing the pile of clothes at Y/n.

“Hey! Don’t let them fall on the sand!” Y/n squeaked, catching the clothes in her arms, “I’m gonna put these on the ship and take a bath, ok? Calm yourself.”

Buggy sighed and sat down, his back facing Y/n as he scribbled in the sand with a stick. He could hear her sigh heavily. She rolled her eyes before heading back to the ship for a shower. Buggy collected his thoughts and decided to just push everything to the back of his mind— none of this would matter once he was a real captain, with a good bounty. That was the one thought that kept him going, he closed his eyes and visualized all of the treasure, the gold spilling through his fingers like water.

Once Y/n returned, she found that Buggy had made a little fire on shore, and a makeshift fishing pole that he was using on the dock. She came to his side and leaned against his arm after putting her wet hair up a clip. “What is your obsession with showers?” Buggy grumbled. Y/n giggled at that and gently ran her hands up and down his arm, grazing her fingers through his arm hair and feeling the lean muscle.

“It’s not an obsession, I just don’t like being sweaty and nasty.” She held onto his bicep, “How long have you been going at it?”

Buggy shrugged, “An hour.”

Y/n gently took the stick from it, then pulled the string up, “You put a shell on the hook.” She laughed, “Wait here, I used to fish.” She quickly climbed back onto the ship, and came back with a piece of meat, flicking the shell back into the water and sticking that chunk on it before throwing it back out to the water.

“You used to fish?” Buggy scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked down at her. She gave him another look, “Yeah? It was my job before I left home.”

“Well you never smelled fishy.” Buggy commented, leaning forward and giving her head another sniff, to which Y/n gently nudged him with her elbow.

“Hence why bathing exists.” She said to him, then felt something pull at the line, “There, I just caught us our dinner!”

After cooking the fish over the fire, Buggy dug into it like he hadn’t eaten in ages. He had eaten more than half of the food that Y/n had stolen from that town the other day, she didn’t know how he could do it but he was like a vacuum with his food. She giggled, watching him dig into that fish.

“Be careful.” She said, taking a bite out of her half, “Don’t get choked on a bone.”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” Buggy grumbled, speaking with his mouth full before taking another huge bite out of his fish. He finished his half rather quickly, and Y/n noticed he was eyeing up hers.

“You eat like a sloth.” He commented, leaning back, an arm rested on his knee. Y/n rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I don’t wanna get choked.” Buggy thought about making an innuendo, but his nerves kept his mouth shut, he then cleared his throat and sighed.

“Damn… I’m still hungry.” Buggy groaned, leaning forward and looking off to the side.

Y/n reached her hand out and offered him the rest of her half, “Here, I saw you staring.”

Shaking his head, Buggy leaned back again, “What? No, you need food, you barely eat.”

“Hey, I eat, I just don’t pile food into my mouth like you do.” Y/n scoffed, nudging him with the fish, “Take it.”

Hesitating for a moment, he eventually gave in and took the fish from her. He sighed and bit into it, the way he ate it in huge mouthfuls made Y/n nervous, she didn’t wanna have to be picking fish bones out of his throat later. “I still need to find someone to paint the ship, we can paint the sails too but it’ll set us back a few days while it dries.” He said while chewing, “I’ll ask someone from the circus at sunrise.”

Y/n nodded, then scooted closer to Buggy. He looked at her for a moment, then went back to eating his fish. The girl really loved to be close to him, and rub up on him any chance she got. Her actions were still something he really didn’t understand, but it felt nice. If it was because he was just the only man she’s been with for the last few days, the thought of adding more men to the crew gave him a bitter feeling in his chest. Was she just going to move on from him and choose someone else? Or was she just going to pass herself around to everyone?

Buggy felt guilty thinking that kind of stuff about someone he started seeing as a friend, but the jealousy and confusion ate at him. He wanted to enjoy her while he could though, expecting her to leave him soon just like everyone else.

When they laid down to sleep, he felt her arm and leg drape over top of him from behind. It took him by surprise, but her cool body temperature served to be a comfort from the warm night. He closed his eyes, placing a hand over Y/n’s as he fell asleep.

[house-of-slayterr]

Caught in the Heart of the Storm

Something was up.

That much you could tell when you woke up on this stormy morning. The base was cold, freezing actually , like someone had left a window open. A low groan leaves your slightly cracked lips as your warp the blanket around you, going to look around for the culprit of the chills running down your spine.

You relaxed a little seeing Frenchie still passed out on the couch, fast asleep unaware of the raging storm just above them. The boys deserved sleep, it been a hard week. Something you felt in your bruised and scraped up body. But you’d gotten another supe, so everything felt worth it. The world was a little safer without that asshole in it.

Next you checked the Desk, MM was still asleep on his chair. Him and Butcher rarely ever relaxed enough to fully sleep, but his breathing was even. You found Hughie in the spare room, made for when any of the team mates are passed out or get knocked out on a mission. Butcher was in the chair by the TV, arms crossed over his chest as he slept. A kimiko was in the other cot, snuggled safely in her blankets.

Everyone was safe, so then, why did you still feel weird. If nobody was in danger why were you senses screaming at you. But that’s when you heard another window shatter upstairs. You drop the blanket, reaching for frenchies knife on the coffee table as you make your way up to the abandon building you were under.

Not sure if you were to expect a fight or just a storm causing collateral damage. But you froze when you saw a mass in the middle of the floor, like it’d just blown in from the window. One of the tarps had loosely wrapped around it as you inched closer to see what, no who it was. You were certain the person was unconscious, they’d made no attempt to move in the last sixty seconds.

You bend down slowly, moving the tarp slightly, but drop it back down when you quickly realise the poor sap is naked. Strange.

You leave the tarp of his face though, it doesn’t look familiar, you don’t see many scraps that would be consistent with him being tossed through a window either. No glass in his skin, just an unconscious , naked man wrapped in a tarp. This must be why you felt off. You were meant to find him. But why.

He was breathing, that’s the only reason you knew he wasn’t dead, well that and the lack of any obvious injuries. You shake him slightly trying to wake him, when that doesn’t work you slap him, yet still nothing.

“Oh fuck me” you groan.

You could go downstairs to wake the boys but they were more apt to respond with immediate violence and distrust, well everyone but Hughie. You sigh, bending down to warp your arms under his, trying to keep his dignity a little by dragging the tarp with you, as you drag him downstairs.

“Sorry buddy, if you didn’t have any bruise before you might now”

You say cringing slightly as his skin softly thuds against each step, you move him to the rug, not too close to any of the boy were he’d be in immediate danger, but not somewhere so uncomfortable. You move back to the side room, raising the dresser for some of Hughies clothes. He’d fit. But the question was, was it weirder to change him, at least he’d have clothes on when the boys woke, or should you just leave him naked. You figured you’d already seen him. You’ve had to dress an unconscious butcher before, he was much heavier than the smaller man.

You decide it was better to do so,, now checking his body in better lighting and still seeing no bruises, signs of anything broken. It was absurd to think he just materialised out of nowhere. But stranger things have happened in this Supe infested world. After struggling for nearly 15 mins you got the underwear, sweats and an old Tshirt on him. You stood back to admire your work, finally noticing how gentle his face looked when he slept.

It reminded you of Hughie, you long term crush. One you weren’t willing to admit out of fear of ruining the currently winning dynamic of your little antihero team. His hair was fluffier though, the curls more obvious as they clung to his slightly sweaty body. You had noticed he was quite warm when you found him, but you didn’t know what to make of this information.

As you go to move a curl out of his face he finally wake up. At first his blinks are slow but at the feel of your touch you suddenly feel a tight grip on your wrist, stronger than you expected.

“Who are you?” He asks coldly

“I should be asking you that pretty boy” you let the pet name slip in you shock mixed with anger at how he spoke to you after all you just did for him.

“Keep your voice down ass, unless you want everyone in here to wake up and immediately try to kill you. Got it” you whisper seethe.

“Who are you?” He asks again much softer and quieter.

“My names Y/N, least that’s what everyone calls me. I found you unconscious upstairs, figured bringing you down here was better than leaving you to that storm”

He nods slowly taking in your words. He looks down at himself noticing the clothes that aren’t his and raises an eyebrow, relizing he not in his hero costume he decided to give his civilian name.

“Adrian. And I have no clue where I am.”

“I would hope not, only an idiot would come here uninvited”

“These clothes aren’t mine”

“You didn’t come here with any. Sorry, figured you didn’t want everyone to see your dick dude.”

He blushes.

“Sorry, I literally just woke up before finding you, I don’t know anything more about this than seemingly you do.”

“It’s ok. I’m just confused, I went to sleep in my bed and woke up here.”

You freeze looking for any signs of lying but find none.

“Really? How curious.”

You flinch a little when you hear cluttering in the kitchen, desperate for the person who woke up first to be Hughie, not wanting to deal with MM’s endless questions or Butcher’s dick-headery at this hour.

“Hugh?” You call softly.

You receive a light hum in response and your heart calms.

“You stay right here I’ll be right back. Keep your mouth shut until I’m back ok?”

Adrian hold up his hands in mock defeat and watches as you leave his line of sight. He adjusts how he’s sitting and fixes the strangers clothes on his body.

“Hughie can we talk a sec? It’s urgent” you say above a whisper.

“Yeah, did something happen? You ok?”

You can see the tinge of panic in his eyes.

“I’m fine, just irritated. We have a visitor and I’m trying to figure out how to wake the boys up without them immediately jumping at his throat.”

You can see the gears in his head turning as he sips his coffee.

“You would have given a name if you knew them.” He points out.

“He says his name is Adrian.” You sigh. “He has no clue how he got here and neither do I, pretty much watched him just materialise upstairs in the middle of the storm.”

“He’s down here?”

“Yes Hugh, god drink more of you coffee your useless when you first wake” you say harshly, cringing a little after.

Hughie frowns holding his coffee closer. “You’re starting to sound like butcher.”

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. I just got no sleep last night and had to drag a man twice my size down a flight of stairs by myself. Forgive me for being a little on edge and irritable right now. Hughie please, I just need an idea. I believe him when he says he doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know who any of us are, since I know M and B will ask.”

“Put him in the back after we wake Kimi, she can help keep Frenchie in check, you know MM asks questions first, and Butcher, well I can stay with Adrian and you handle him. He listens to you a little bit more.”

A small smile curls on your lips watching him take charge of the situation. You would admit it was kinda hot, but that thought would have to wait for later.

“He’s in the living room, I’ll go wake my favorite girl” you kiss his cheek satisfied with his plan and go to wake the woman.

She was hard to wake sometimes, not because she slept hard, but because she often woke up fighting, much like Butcher. You gentle hum a little tune, Kimi has come to recognise it as her own personal alarm from you. It was gentle but just loud enough to wake her from her sleep. She appreciated that you never rushed her to wake.

She stretches softly looking at you confused.

“Sorry to wake you princess, but we have a guest we need to help. I need you on Frenchie duty today to make sure he behaves ok?” You kiss her forehead for good measure.

She was easy to bribe with love and kindness, and often times food. Since you came empty handed the former will have to work. She nods at you taking in your words, giving you a small thumbs up.

“Thank you Kimi, I owe you cake from your favorite shop later ok?”

You smile brighter when she smiles up at you.

“I promise if this new guy is swindling me in any way, I’ll take the fall for this. If he tries to touch any of you I’ll take him out myself.”

You leave her to get dressed going back to Hughie who’s now sitting on a chair starring down at Adrian.

“He won’t say anything.”

You chuckle lightly.

“That’s because he’s a good boy” you smirk “I told him to be quiet until I got back.”

“Oh thank god, I hate playing the silent game.”

Your light laughter fills the air just enough to slowly wake butcher. Him curious to what would cause such a sound at this hour. Hughie blushes at your choice of words, finding it strange the man didn’t say anything about you calling him a good boy.

“And you listened?” He asks bewildered.

“How I see it, she’s my only way out of this, she’s the only one I trust right now so I’m staying in her good side the best I can.”

“Smart too. Maybe you can be useful until I can find a way to get you home.”

“Useful how?” Both men ask at once.

“Come on Adrian… you really think I don’t know how to sniff out a vigilante?”

You watch as his muscle tense at that specific word, tilting your head curiously.

“What? Vigilante, no, I’m Adrian, I told you-“ he babbles out.

“Relax Adrian, I still don’t know who or what you are specifically, I just meant you’re like us. I can see it in the way your hold yourself. The only people who wake up like you do are people who have seen and been through some shit. I know you’re not some normie civilians. They tend not to get plucked out of their realities in the middle of the night.”

“Like you?”

“Reality?” Hughie ask.

You shrug. “My best guess. Only think that makes sense. Storm caused an anomaly- Adrian was it storm where you were too?”

“Yes, there was a hail storm with a tornado warning.”

“So the two stroke collided and you just so happened to be the unlucky fellow who got transported in the anomaly. Never believed in worm holes until you crashed through the window.”

“How would we get him back if that’s the case, I’m sure there people back home who miss him.”

“That’s the part I don’t-“

“Who are we getting home?”

Butcher stands behind you, arms crossed and face grumpy as usual as he looks at the peculiar scene before him.

“Care to explain yourself cupcake?” He raises a brow at you.

“Maybe I should just wait for all of you to be up to explain. Butcher, this is Adrian, as far as you’re concerned he’s a new friend. I swear if you touch him when my backs turned, I will take your left testicle.”

“Already so defensive of your new pet?” He muses.

“Maybe I am. Just because you hate the world doesn’t mean I have to. We don’t have to agree on all of our moral standings.”

“Don’t come crying to me if this poor bloke betrays you Sweets. You trust to easy”

“Some of us have intuition and compassion William, our cause can wait one day to help him out”

“One day?”

“One day, that’s all I’m asking. After that I won’t make him be your problem anymore.”

Butchers smart enough to know you chose your words carefully. He knew you’d continue to help him whether he was on board or not. He lets out a sigh that sounds more like a frustrated growl.

“Let me get MM and Frenchie on board and then maybe we can figure out how to help your little charity case. I need a smoke.” He leaves to go upstairs.

“Well that could have gone a lot worse” you sigh. “Sorry about him, he’s just like that.”

“He reminds me of Clemson, just with a funny accent.”

“Clemson?”

“My boss, well my best friends boss, I just hang out with him because I can. Don’t know if I’m like forcibly on the team or anything.”

You grin. “So I was right you are a vigilante.”

“The Vigilante actually, that’s what the news calls me at least. And my friends.”

Hughie relaxes a little now that the hardest person to convince didn’t immediately threaten anyone.

You knew you could get the others on board once they woke up, but getting him home was gonna take a lot longer than one day. Perhaps you could multitask, take down the supes and find someone who can tear a hole back to his reality. Easier said than done right.

An: and cliffhanger… if this was bad, ignore it, if you want more, comment or reblog asking for part 2. I tried my best. Also comment who you want to end up with, Hughie, Adrian… both 👀

Tag: @mothmans-kingdom @kados-of-chaos

[ninyard]

some hc about Aaron & Matt's friendship 🥹

i feel like when Aaron found out that Andrew drugged Matt for his sake he might've spoken to Matt, maybe to apologise, maybe not, but just to say something.

imagine feeling like your brother doesn't give a shit about you, thinking that you're not even on his radar of people worth caring about, and then you find out that he did that? that he did what he did to you, but so much worse, to someone you hardly even know? and not only that, but he did it for you?

picture Matt, in Abby's place, sick and pale, sleeping most of the time when he's not a crying, sweating mess. he apologises to Abby constantly, sorry for how he looks, how he smells, how violently ill he is because of Andrew. tensions are high everywhere, people are disappointed and angry, and nobody knows how to treat the situation. are we angry at Andrew? are we angry at Matt, for taking the drugs in the first place? are we disappointed that this even happened at all?

and Aaron knocks on the door, a shy and hesitant rap of his knuckles on wood, and when he steps in the room, it takes Matt a second to realise it's Aaron, not Andrew. he doesn't even know the twins well enough yet to tell the difference, but Aaron's wearing something that shows he's not wearing the arm bands. so he knows it's Aaron.

"you don't have to be here," Matt croaks, his voice hoarse from disuse, raw from the acid of his stomach that has stayed mostly empty over the last few days. "sign a get well soon card like the rest of them."

"you look rough." Aaron says, an observation that gets a weak laugh from Matt. "how do you feel?"

"about as good as you can imagine," Matt shuffles up in the bed, and covers his mouth to try and stop a wave of nausea that hits him as he moves. Aaron looks away, seeing himself in the bed, knowing how this feels. "let's skip this part, man. i'm too tired. what do you want?"

maybe Aaron can't say it, he doesn't know the right words, maybe he doesn't even know for certain that Andrew did it for him at all. but he knows, of course he does. why else would he? Aaron looks at him, he looks at the circles around his eyes, the sweat on his forehead, and the for-now empty puke bowl on the bedside table.

Aaron wasn't even sure why he came in the first place. Abby stopped him outside, just barely knowing his history with drugs, and told him that Matt was not a pretty sight - it was hard to see, hard to look at. she told him not to go in, to leave it another day or two, or even until Matt could bare to stand up to leave her apartment. does Matt know? was he told? is he going to hate Aaron now, more than he already does, if he tells him why he thinks Andrew has put him in this position? will Matt even believe him if he tells him that he gets it? is it even worth the breath it'd take to say i'm sorry?

maybe Aaron thinks about opting for something else - some support in the way of an i get it, or an it's going to be okay, while knowing that's the last thing he would've wanted to hear in Matt's position. Aaron knows he would've told anyone that offered their shitty, meaningless words of support to him in that position to fuck off and mind their own business, but instead Matt sits there, and he waits, and he listens.

"Andrew didn't do it to kill you," he says, not even the words that he meant to say at all. "he doesn't care about you enough to bother."

"i know." Matt says, and Aaron looks at him like he's not sure how he can be so certain. "but he didn't do it for himself, either, did he?"

does sorry even feel like enough? would Aaron's empathy and understanding be meaningful at all, as Matt lay there, his energy sapped and his brain not working as it should?

i think regardless of how that conversation goes, or where it happens, or how it happens, Matt and Aaron have some sort of understanding between them - Matt is angry that Andrew did this for Aaron, that it was Aaron's fault, in a way, that this happened to him, but he knows it wasn't Aaron's choice. he sees that guilty look in his eyes as he walks into that room, and knows that Aaron had nothing to do with what happened that night. Aaron knows that Matt doesn't blame him, and he gets it - maybe. maybe Matt sees how sick Aaron looks as he looks back at him, how his mouth is downturned in an uncomfortable frown that he poorly tries to hide. maybe if Aaron did apologise, on his own behalf, on Andrew's behalf, maybe Matt wouldn't even accept it anyway. because he knows what temptation can do, he knows what seeing an addict does to an addict. he knows why Andrew did it, if anything else, and he knows why Aaron needed him clean.

i don't know where this is going, really, but i just wonder if they ever spoke about it - if Aaron ever approached Matt in those early days, if they ever understood each other in such a way that knows why they both lay or stood in the positions that they did. just a thought.

[box-architecture]

Ok sooo… for the Blob au do the like canon events still happen? Like does Dream go to prison? If so is Dream blob forced to go with him? Does Quackity get a blob?…

Yes! Canon events happen up to prison. This is sort of a little fun extra stuff tied to the communication knife au, so canon for blob au diverges where ckau does (aka when Sam and Dream have sex in prison, then continue to have a poly relationship with Punz post-prison.) This AU was largely because my friend (@corvesfelinesart) drew a lot of cute images of Sam as a blob, and I really wanted to write cute stuff about Blob Sam and awesamdrunz. It's not overly complex, just Fun Fluff, yknow?

Blob Dream doesn't accompany his admin to prison. Most of the time, the blobs Dream creates are meant to be running around checking for bugs or damage to the server. The ones Dream gives Imprints to, like Sap's blob or Techno's blob, tend to focus more their Imprints instincts rather than going around the server and doing their job, hence Blob Tech leaving Dreams side immeadietly to go find Technos dogs. They're still capable of damage control! They're just. Selective about which areas they prefer to be in.

Blob Dream, while Dream himself is in prison, continues to do his job around the server and often spies on other players to make sure they're healthy and safe. He doesn’t register any of the pain or suffering that Dream experiences while in prison, but it does experience a slight change in behavior, becoming more prone to hoarding and nervous around people.

Dream has to consciously make an effort to imprint a players soul onto a blob, and he has never had any intention of making an imprint of Quackity. Imprinted blobs are fun, but they're aren't very useful tools. He couldn't use it a Blob Quackity to his advantage when it only mimics a players base instincts, and it'd more likely than not be hostile to Blob Dream.

List of blobs Dream has made: Sapblob, Gogyblob, Tommyblob, Tubboblob, Fundyblob, Ranblob, Punzblob, Technoblob, Samblob, possibly more if I remember later.

Dream showed Tommy his ability to make blobs during exile as a sort of way to cheer him up during one of their good moments. Tommy was absolutely delighted, but then he got a little hesitant as he asked if Dream could make one of Tubbo. Dream didn't say anything. Tommy's blob eventually fucked off into the wilderness and made its own little nest in the ground. Dream made a Tubboblob to keep him company, and ignores them otherwise.

Ranblob, made alongside Punzblob while they were all planning Staged Finale, occasionally comes to visit them, but post-Ranboos death, Tubboblob has become hostile every time it shows up. Ranblob is usually found accompanying Ranboo at a distance otherwise.

Fundyblob was made during Dream and Fundys brief partnership, just a thing to make Fundy smile. Currently it's sleeping in a drawer in Fundys house. It plays with Yogurt sometimes, but doesn't really like leaving the house.

Sapblob and Gogyblob were made around the beginning of the server, also for pure fun. It was interesting watching the Dream Team's blobs play together, like watching a cat doing zoomies. Dreamblob hasn't approached either of them in ages, but if he did, Sapblob would maw on his head (supposedly in anger, but really he just missed him) and Gogyblob would likely attempt to sit on top of him to prevent it from leaving.

Technoblob was 100 percent just thinking Techno was Very Cool and wanting to make a little guy of him. He was very indignant when said blob bonked him with its head several times and then hopped away. What does that even mean!?

[iffeelscouldkill]

Lost in a Familiar Place pt. 5

(Aka the ‘Nicholas never applied to Kings Row’ AU)

A/N: I'm kind of on a roll with this fic??? Idek how, but I've already written the next chapter. There'll be at least 2 more instalments after this, and possibly a small epilogue depending on how the last chapter plays out.

Anyway - when I originally wrote the concept for this fic, there were two things I imagined playing out differently: Nicholas would take a different path to Kings Row, and Aiden would have a wake-up call when it came to his participation in the team. We've spent a few chapters on the first one - now it's time for the second.

(But don't worry, we'll be coming back to Nicholas!)

Or: in which Harvard and Aiden have A Conversation, and Nicholas and Seiji are misinterpreted. (Or are they?)

Previous chapters: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

---

After fencing practice officially ended, the students hung around chattering in groups, dissecting the unexpected match that had taken place between Seiji Katayama and a complete fencing nobody.

Harvard was impressed that Nicholas had scored a point on Seiji at all. The holes in his technique were huge and evident, but there were times when he could strike at an opening before you even knew what was happening. Harvard had noticed Seiji watching him during drills; he knew that his teammate was turning the contradiction over in his mind, trying to make sense of it.

And Nicholas had beaten Aiden. That couldn’t just be put down to left-handedness and the element of surprise.

Harvard sought Aiden out in the middle of the throng of students. He was talking to two of the boys that Harvard thought of (a little uncharitably) as Aiden’s groupies; they grudgingly made way for Harvard, shooting him looks. “Hey. Good practice today.”

Aiden arched an eyebrow. He seemed back to his old self, more or less. “You don’t need to coddle me, Captain. I lost to a total rookie.”

Harvard shrugged. He could say, ‘Maybe you should come to practice more often, then,’ but this wasn’t how and where he wanted to have that conversation. “Do you want me to make you feel better about it?”

Aiden snorted and put his hands behind his head. The groupies drifted away, losing interest when Aiden’s attention wasn’t on them. “No, a night of drowning my sorrows in the nearest warm body and I’ll be back on form.”

Harvard normally shrugged off Aiden’s jokes about sleeping around, but this time it didn’t land quite right. Aiden noticed his expression and smiled wryly. “Ah, too soon.”

“Aiden-” Harvard began, but just then, Coach Williams called them both over. She threw Aiden a set of keys and handed Harvard a stack of orange field markers. Some poor sap had been made to run suicides that morning after he forgot his mask.

“Do me a favour, and run these back to the supply cupboard,” she instructed. “And this-” She handed Aiden the épée that Nicholas had borrowed for practice. “And if you see Nicholas, make sure he doesn’t accidentally walk off with those fencing whites he borrowed.”

That was a good point. Where was Nicholas? Harvard couldn’t remember seeing Seiji leave, either.

An awkward silence hung between them as they set off along the corridor. Harvard was suddenly sick of this. “Aiden, listen,” he said. “I’m not about to get on your case about sleeping around. It’s your choice, even if I wish you’d be less… harsh about it most of the time.”

Aiden acknowledged this with a wry twist of his lips. “But?” he prompted Harvard.

Harvard stopped in the corridor and turned to face Aiden. “But I need you to commit to one thing, at least, and that’s the team. You know as well as I do that one exceptional fencer doesn’t make a winning team, and we need everyone to be on form if we’re going to have a shot this year. I can’t just keep subbing in Eugene every time you don’t feel like showing. He’s a solid fencer, but you made the team, and you need to show up for it.”

Aiden put his free hand on his hip. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?” he asked Harvard, almost taunting. Harvard wasn’t often on the receiving end of his best friend’s cutting tongue, and he didn’t enjoy it. “Cut me from the team?”

Harvard swallowed, but he couldn’t say this if he wasn’t prepared to back it up. “Yes, if I have to.”

“Then you’ll be a fencer down.”

“I’m a fencer down anyway, Aiden!” Harvard exclaimed, gesticulating and forgetting that he was holding a set of field markers. “I never know if I can count on you or not! What’s the point of making the team if you don’t act like you’re a part of it? Why do you bother to try out if you’re just going to make a show of being too good for us?”

Aiden’s cheeks flushed, and Harvard wished he could walk back his outburst, but part of him felt lighter for getting it out into the open. It was everything he should have said last year, and hadn’t. They’d treated it as a bit of a joke, laughing about being the worst team, and Aiden had shown up for some matches, for the bake sale – even if he’d been on his phone the whole time.

But this year felt different. Harvard wanted to take things seriously, and it felt jarring how little Aiden did.

“You’d really do that to me?” Aiden asked him, his voice taut like steel wire. “Cut me out because I’m no good to you any more?”

Harvard exhaled. This was treading dangerously close to Aiden’s many complicated issues stemming from his family, something that Aiden would never, ever so much as hint at in front of anyone who wasn’t Harvard. But Aiden also wasn’t being fair.

“I’ve defended your spot on the team for a long time,” he said. “Because I know what you can do, and I’ve always believed you come through for us when it matters. But – it goes both ways, Aiden. How can I treat you like a member of the team when you don’t act like one?”

He kept his voice low, trying to stay calm and reasonable. “At this point, I can’t help wondering why you try out for the team in the first place. What are you doing this for, Aiden? Who is it for?”

Aiden gave Harvard a long, steady look, long enough that Harvard wondered if he was meant to be reading something into it. What was he missing?

“You remember when we both made the team for the first time, back in sophomore year?” Aiden said suddenly.

“Of course,” Harvard replied, a little surprised at the direction this was going. “The captain was Elias Ortiz, and he was so inspiring. I really looked up to him. I wanted to do what he did.”

Aiden nodded. “You wanted to be team captain one day,” he said, fondness in his voice. “And you persuaded me to try out with you.”

Harvard had forgotten that part. “You practiced with me all the time,” he said. “There was no reason you couldn’t make the cut too – and you did. You made the cut ahead of me, even.” Aiden had handily won enough matches to be accepted as one of the fencing team’s ‘main three’, while Harvard had endured the heart-in-mouth wait to find out who had been selected as reserve. Aiden had threatened – promised? – to give up his spot on the team if Harvard wasn’t selected. Harvard had assumed he was joking.

“You were a shoo-in for reserve,” Aiden said, waving a hand. “There was no question about it.”

Harvard wasn’t sure about that, but Aiden was biased on his behalf. “Still – where are you going with this?”

Aiden sighed, looking away and resting the point of the épée he was carrying against the ground. “Before we started practicing together, fencing was just this dumb thing that my dad made me do,” he said. “I would have quit years ago if not for that. But you loved it, and that made it not suck for the first time in ages.

“I tried out for the team because I knew how much it meant to you for us to both make the cut. And I like being good at things.” He shrugged and smirked diffidently, but Harvard could see more vulnerability in Aiden’s eyes than he’d shown in a long while.

“I like to win, but being in the fencing team together is our thing. That’s why I’m on the team.”

Harvard’s heart lurched. He would never in a million years have expected himself to be the reason that Aiden tried out for the team. Winning, sure – showing off, even – and schooling upstart fencing newcomers who thought they were hot stuff. But doing it all for him?

“But… why don’t you try properly, then?” he asked, because that part still didn’t make sense. If being on the team was important, then why act like it wasn’t?

Aiden’s eyes flicked over Harvard’s face and he smiled. It was a sad smile. “It doesn’t do to go getting too attached,” he said, barely loud enough for Harvard to hear him.

Then he turned and strode away down the corridor, calling back, “Coach is going to wonder where the hell we’ve got to.”

Harvard was left blinking at nothing, wondering what Aiden could possibly mean by – “Aiden? Hold on, what do you-”

He jogged to catch up with his best friend, but Aiden was already opening the door to the supply cupboard – throwing light onto two figures inside.

Nicholas and Seiji were standing nose-to-nose, Nicholas gripping the neck of Seiji’s uniform. Both boys looked flushed. Well, that explained where they’d both disappeared to, at least.

“Oh. Are we interrupting something?” Aiden asked, and Nicholas instantly let go of Seiji.

“No.” “No.” Both boys spoke in unison, Seiji turning away from Nicholas as if to reinforce his denial. Harvard raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, no judgement,” he said, and Aiden snorted as he walked past to put the épée away, then reached back for the field markers, which Harvard handed to him. “Just be aware that the supply cupboard does get some use around this time of day. In case you wanted to find another location.”

Nicholas turned even redder. “That’s not – it’s really not like that,” he said, rushed.

Harvard shrugged. “Like I said, no judgement. Oh, and Coach said to make sure you don’t forget to return your fencing whites.”

Nicholas looked down, apparently realising that he was still in his borrowed uniform. “Oh, yeah.”

Seiji nodded formally to Aiden and to Harvard. “Captain,” he said, and then strode out of the cupboard. Nicholas scrambled after him.

“Seiji!” he called after the other boy. “I meant what I said.”

Seiji paused, then looked back and gave Nicholas a nod before disappearing in the direction of the changing rooms.

Riiight. Harvard turned to Nicholas. “If you need someone to walk you out after you get changed, I can show you the way back into town.”

At that moment, Bobby and Eugene emerged from the door leading off to changing rooms, Bobby beaming as he caught sight of Nicholas. “Nicholas! We were looking for you!” he enthused. “Do you want to come and get smoothies with us?”

“Uh, sure,” Nicholas said, seeming surprised, but pleased.

“Oh – Harvard! And Aiden! Would you like to come too?” Bobby asked, as he spotted them both.

Harvard glanced at Aiden, then smiled at Bobby and shook his head. “Thanks, but we’re okay – you guys go ahead.”

“I just need to get changed and give these back to Coach–” Nicholas said, walking quickly towards the changing rooms. The three of them disappeared, and Harvard and Aiden were left alone again.

“Well,” Harvard said. “I guess that means Nicholas isn’t hung up on you, at least.” He was wearily accustomed to the pining looks thrown at Aiden in the corridors, the guys showing up at their dorm room door with flowers and heartfelt notes that Harvard always promised he’d pass onto Aiden (who was more often than not already out on another date). And, sometimes, the uglier responses – a graffitied locker, a malicious rumour, damage done to Aiden’s things while they were both out of the room. Aiden always forbade Harvard from going after anyone on his behalf, even if they could work out who’d done it. “It’s nothing, Harvard. I can handle it.”

Aiden snorted. “Nicholas stopped being hung up on me the second he laid eyes on Seiji Katayama.”

Harvard smiled as they both stepped out of the cupboard, Aiden pulling the doors closed and locking them. It was fun to gossip and trade theories about their fellow fencers, something they’d indulged in at many a practice match and regional or state competition (when Aiden was present, of course). But Harvard quickly remembered the conversation they’d been having before they happened on Nicholas and Seiji.

“Aiden?” he asked. “What did you mean when you said, ‘It doesn’t do to get too attached’?”

“Nothing,” Aiden said quickly, flashing Harvard a quick and (to Harvard’s expert eyes) insincere smile. “Forget I said that.” He tried to start back towards the fencing salle.

“No, come on-” Harvard objected, catching hold of Aiden’s arm – gently. “I know you meant something by it. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He frowned, suddenly worried about what Aiden might not want to say. “You can trust me.”

Aiden gave Harvard that rueful smile again. “I think it’ll be better if you figure it out yourself. But if you haven’t figured it out by tonight, then I’ll tell you,” he said, then slipped his arm out of Harvard’s grip and walked away.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Hi I saw you asking for Polly abc and wanted to ask if you would do one with Scathach and Nightingale from FGO? If so I will request A, B, F, C, R, S, W, Z please!

Thanks for the Ask Anon! I would like to apologize if this came out wonky though, this is the first time I am trying this so here's to hoping it goes well!

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!

A = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? When it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what?

Nightingale is the most affectionate out of the three of you, though it's not in a traditional way. This often leads to her giving the both of you a medical once over every once and awhile.

As for who prefers Physical affection, that is Nightingale.

Verbal affection is something Scathach is much better at when compared to physical. She was a teacher for centuries after all, giving someone praise is something she is quite good at.

B = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? Are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

Sleeping arrangements are rather chaotic with Nightingale often holding both you and Scathach close to her. That, mixed with Scathach’s tendency to sprawl over the entire bed and to toss and turn, has led to some rather interesting moments upon waking up. 

C = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how do the rest look after them?

When you are down, Scathach and Nightingale tend to give you some space for a while before trying to comfort you due to the fact that Nightingale is a Berserker and that Scathach is not the softest of people. That being said, the both of them are going to help you.

When Scathach is down, the best thing you can do for her is to stay next to her. To try and comfort her the best you can while Nightingale keeps her from running off to start a fight or to hide. She’s the queen of shadows and your lover, she doesn’t believe you should see her like this, but someone always needs a shoulder to lean on, no matter who you are.

When Nightingale is down, the best you and Scathach can do is hold her close, and hold her tight as she tries to set everything straight.

F = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved?

Fights are rare, but most of the ones that do happen are related to Nightingale pushing herself too hard. Usually this is resolved by Nightingale being argued down with facts and logic about the body that she had drilled into your heads. Sometimes however, she relents on her own.

R = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

Not in the traditional sense, after all, Scathach and Nightingale are very much unique women. Though they do have their own special ways of drowning everyone in love and affection.

Whether it be Scathach making rings for all of you that say “I Love You” in the language of runes or Nightingale who gives you and Scathach a little booklet that she will place small stickers on or write in fancy script that tell you both how much she loves you.

S = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners?

Surprisingly, Nightingale is the most territorial around you and Scathach, often giving anyone who tries to flirt with either of you a death glare on par with some Noble Phantasms.

W = worthy; how are insecurities handled? Is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

Scathach is the most… not really insecure but… Self-Conscious? She is Immortal and she knows that she will outlast all of you a million times over, sure, she may be able to ignore it sometimes, but it's always there at the back of her mind.

Z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? Was anyone more reserved in their want for it?

No one knew there was a relationship going on until Scathach realized one doesn’t imagine marrying their two best friends if there isn’t some sort of spark there. It was all downhill after that.

[ridhearts]

Sit With Me {Leona x Reader}

So. Recently I've been dealing with really, really bad short-term existential crises that always force me into a little panic so I just wrote a little thing to comfort myself :)

!! information !!

characters: leona

reader: gn

cw: existential dread, depression, death

The world was caving in.

At least, that was what it felt like.

There were no Overblots happening, there was no grand decision to make about the portal and the possibility of returning home - it was just you, your thoughts, and the primal fear that invaded. The more you tried to distract yourself, the more potent they became until a panic settled in your bones and tightened in your chest. You couldn't make any noise, but the quiet was far louder, amplifying your fear until you knew there was no drowning it out. What is going to happen to me?

One could hardly blame you for your fears. Even though you dealt with them before ever arriving in Twisted Wonderland, the total upheaval you've had to go through was enough to send anybody spiraling. You knew there were no answers to the questions plaguing you, but you were desperate for answers anyway. What value did your struggles hold? What importance did you really have? Will everyone truly slip into a void of nothingness one day and slowly be forgotten? 

Behind you, you felt something deep and comforting, warm like rolling summer thunder. Purring. 

Unlike you, Leona never worried about his existence in a way so terrifying. That's not to say he never pondered the circumstances of life - he's just always known his life was meaningless. That he was holding a position nobody cared for, that he was a name nobody would need to learn for their history tests. The concept of the end never scared him, either; He practically slept his days away anyway, and shouldn't it feel just like that? Sometimes, he even found himself idly musing that perhaps he'd close his eyes and this time, he wouldn't wake back up. More than panic, the thought made him chuckle.

But he knew that the two of you were different. Where he had given up, you were a bundle of joy, of hope. Perhaps you felt you had everything to lose. Perhaps being ripped from your home world felt like a mini death of its own. Leona had already lost everything - he was mostly convinced that he'd lose you, too. It was only a matter of time. He'd consider himself lucky if a timely death was the thing to do it.

There wasn't much in the way of comforting that Leona found himself partial to. But the first time he watched you curl inwardly as dread consumed you almost broke the rock-solid shell he kept around his heart. So he wrapped his arms tightly around you and purred, pressing your back flush against him so you could feel as much of the soothing vibrations as possible. One of his thumbs stroked your arm idly, and - tell anyone this and he'll kill you, so you can really see what there is to be afraid of - he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. A reminder that he was here. That you were here. That you were too good to let a bunch of silly questions dampen that stupid little spark of yours. 

Leona liked to tell you that you were being overdramatic, that you weren't special for wondering what would happen once you died. But it worried him that something so grim followed you around, tied tightly around you and impossible to shake off. He feared that maybe, it might consume you the way it sometimes did to him, sapping him entirely of any motivation, of any hope, of any dreams. Even worse, you were the thing that made Leona consider that maybe life was worth trying for, even if he could never get everything he wanted. You were a miracle worth believing in. If the dark waters pulled you under, Leona wasn't certain he could do what you did for him and reach down to save you.

So he'd sit with you instead, and hope that if he couldn't force those thoughts away he could at least allow you to drift to sleep. When you woke up, he'd pull you out of bed and go do something. Maybe you'd just go to the cafeteria and see your friends. Maybe the two of you could make plans, and he'd drag himself out of bed and take you into town. 

As cheesy as it sounded, he desperately wanted to show you that there was light now. That if you couldn't find it in yourself, you were sure to find it somewhere around you, because that's what you did. Whatever was waiting for you at the end of the road, the only way to truly find out what it was was by living through the journey. If the universe could spare you just one kindness, one little apology after forcing you into fear of the great unknown, then he would gladly live his way through life right by your side, where you could face this thing down together.

That was enough for him. So he purred a little louder, and hoped it would be enough for you.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Bittersweet

Nicholas D. Wolfwood X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Shoot out, thoughts of suicide, violence, blood, angst (like tons of angst), steamy scenes (I needed a shower after writing them hoo boy), and some fluff

Word Count: 9.3k

Requested by @moon-esque​

(A/N:) Okay fellow Nicholas fangirls this request turned into an absolute monster! And I enjoyed every second of writing it! I also may have had a meltdown when I found the gif for it as well, as it’s absolute perfection. I am so thankful you gave me this request as I believe it may be my favorite one yet. As soon as I read it I got swarmed by ideas and I am really pleased with the way it turned out. I think I had a little too much fun with the angst tho. 😅 But I hope I did it justice and it’s everything you hoped for! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Side note: Parts in italics are flashbacks. Okay I’ll shut up now! XD

Nicholas D. Wolfwood didn’t know how he earned such a wonderful life when he finally settled down. How he came across you so sweet and beautiful, he couldn’t explain that either. Or the fact that you had fallen in love with him and told him yes on that fateful day that seemed so long ago. Noman’s Land had taken so much from him and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been happy, until he had you. Like the sun you were warm but not harsh. You didn’t burn him or sap away his strength until he felt like he couldn’t take another step further. His heart ached as he looked at pictures of you he kept in his pocket, torn and worn from use and fights. He also couldn’t help but sneer at the stain of blood in the corner of his favorite photo. If it was his blood or someone else’s he couldn’t tell as so much blood had been spilled. He was just glad it didn’t mar your face in the photo as he didn’t think he could stomach the thought.

 He remembered those nights fondly with you, the little house you had picked out was perfect. Others would have seen it as cramped but growing up with nothing, it was a mansion to Nicholas. Home cooked meals every night with what little ingredients you could scrounge around for and afford tasted like a feast. But the moments he was happiest was when you both would go sit outside to watch the sunsets every night, hand in hand talking about your days. He closed his eyes his opposite hand rubbing across the palm you always held. He could have sworn that he could still feel your skin against his. Hot nights were ignored as he always wanted to hold onto you tightly. You tried shoving him away more than once but he stubbornly held on, toughing out your sweaty body against his. The desert had no remorse and neither did his want of you. You’d laugh, tell him that he stinks which only made him toss you into the old tub filled with precious water before he too would join you. You’d splash him once he sat down into the tub and he’d gently nibble at your digits. He’d kiss you despite the protests until your stubbornness was all but forgotten and your world was just filled with Nicholas. 

While you slept he would lay awake staring at the ceiling while listening to your slow breathing. He too would sleep if the nightmares would leave him alone for once. But every time he closed his eyes, his conscious was filled with blood and the screams of the people when he took their lives. He may have been called the Punisher but all he was punishing now was himself. You tried getting him to talk about it but he never would open up, the fear that you would find out the monster he was and is overwhelmed him. He just knew that if you found out that you would leave him and then he would have no one else, besides the group of friends he made and hurt on occasions. Vash was glad for his friend when Nicholas told him the news about the wedding, though Nicholas felt a little guilty dragging you into his messed up life. 

It turned out to be the best decision he ever made as the light started to come back in his life. Then the unthinkable happened, Nicholas left for work one morning and everything was normal. He finished his day, ready to see you and kiss you until you were breathless. But when he came upon his home it was dark, empty, and scorched. There was no sign of you and no answer no matter how loud or long he screamed your name. He beat at the sand, demanding that this forsaken land give you back to him. Blood coated the wood where it hadn’t burned to charcoal. Normally the sight of blood never made him sick, but the thought that it was yours had him retching stomach acid into the churned sand. He cried, tears streaking the grime on his cheeks until rage overtook him.

Nicholas came at anyone who he thought was possibly involved in your disappearance. He felt foolish believing that he could escape the Eye of Michael and it’s cronies. How could he bring you into something so terrible? Guilt riddled him as he thought of them taking you, subjecting you to whatever horrors they deemed fit as they had did to him as a child. His stomach churned in worry, but he couldn’t find any signs no matter how hard he looked. People either died to quickly or passed out from fear or the pain that he inflicted, he couldn’t get anywhere or come up with the answers he needed. 

Those nights sitting with you out on the little porch of your home was getting hazier and hazier as time passed, while being covered by the blood he spilled and smeared across his name. He became feared once more The Punisher walking again, toting his cross shaped machine gun with no remorse or pity upon his targets. Not even his friends could make headway let alone find him as Nicholas constantly stayed on the move. He couldn’t stop as the thought of finding you was his driving force, staying at the front of his mind at all times. Even Vash couldn’t seem to track him down and it just made the blond haired man more frustrated the longer time went on. 

A year passed since you disappeared, no trace ever came up again. No name, no breath of you, nothing. Nicholas finally cracked, despair swallowing him whole as he sat in a run down room in a sleazy inn contemplating ending it all. He refused to eat, he couldn’t remember the last time he had even bathed. He was unshaven, unkempt, and his clothes were beyond repair. But he couldn’t find the motivation to even care, you had become his everything his only sole purpose to breathe, and he had betrayed that abandoning you to whatever cruel fate had taken you. He unwrapped his weapon, searching blindly for the little pistol tucked inside. The weapon was perfect for him as it would mark his grave in a dark poetic sort of way. Though he felt like he didn’t deserve a grave, he prayed that they would just toss his corpse into the sand and let the worms have their share of him. Without you seeing him through, life held no meaning. You would have argued otherwise but you were no longer with him, you probably never even existed. He chuckled darkly, finally losing his mind as he was beginning to believe you had been some sort of figment the Eye of Michael had cooked up. Something to keep him complacent until the time came to rip you away and causing their greatest weapon to lose his mind and go on a search for revenge taking out the trash with him. 

He cackled insanely finally finding the weapon he had been looking for. He couldn’t keep on, the sorrow and pain finally too much to bear. He didn’t deserve to go out quietly or easily. A old man’s natural death had never been a part of his plan in the universe, and he didn’t deserve you anyway he decided. You were the exact opposite the light in the darkness, the steady island in a storm. While he was a never ending black hole that sucked everything good in the world and destroyed it. He held the pistol to his chin ready to end it all, though he knew that it was pure cowardice driving him. Pressure squeezed upon the trigger, he closed his eyes welcoming the end of his pitiful existence when the door slammed open. The lock uselessly tumbling to the floor in shattered pieces.

Vash the Stampeded stood before him in the doorway, pistol drawn. Vash wasted no time pulling the trigger, shooting the weapon from his friend’s hand. He was more surprised at the state of the strong man before him than anything else. He shook his head watching the dark haired man sink into the thin mattress, as he finally gave in. Nicholas tried to hide the tears but they wouldn’t stop coming. He had purposely been avoiding Vash and Meryl for as long as he had been searching for you. He knew they wouldn’t approve of his methods and Vash would have ended up being more of a pain than a help as Nicholas dished out his form of searching. But now that he had finally given up on you, fate had to set the red coated man right there at the time of his lowest. Without you he didn’t think life was worth living. Without you Noman’s Land was emptier and far from ever being the same again. Vash looked to Meryl the woman suddenly frightened by the Punisher they had been beside for so long.

“Go ahead and wait in the other room. I’m going to stay with him and I would rather you not be around if he tries anything else,” Vash said turning back to his long lost friend. Without argument Meryl left leaving the two men alone. Vash didn’t know even where to begin as Nicholas just laid there despondent and clearly not going to come around anytime soon. With Meryl safe, Vash felt more comfortable to do whatever necessary to get the undertaker back on his feet. Despite how grim everything looked on the outcome of finding you, Vash couldn’t give up. Not when it came to the person who had brought such joy to Nicholas’ life. Finally Nicholas passed out, the physical and emotional exhaustion taking it’s toll and sweeping him under the waves. Deep in his unconscious state he could still feel you, hear you, and touch you. At first it seemed to be too cruel to stand but now he took more comfort in it than pain. The memories you both had shared and made together keeping some parts of him together, though those were starting to crumble too the longer he went without you.

“Nicholas,” your voice called. Nicholas grunted trying to stay in darkened bliss, but you were relentless when it came to the pursuit of what you wanted. You called a little louder before starting to jostle him around a little. This time you got a groan out of him and you laughed. You rubbed his chin, the scruff of his unshaven face tickling your palm.

“Wake up,” you cooed moving towards his ear. Despite being obnoxious and playing with his earlobe, Nicholas stubbornly remained asleep. You stroked his black locks, thinking about giving them a trim before you huffed in annoyance. He could sense danger and be on his feet in moments, but in these moments where he truly got the relax and cling to you he was hard to awaken. You thought it was mostly from his rough way of life and never really having a place where he felt comfortable. So you never gave him grief if he overslept or was hard to wake up. This morning was different though as you were ready to start your day and couldn’t free yourself of your husband’s tight grip. So now you decided that desperate measures were going to have to come into play. Cupping his jaws you lifted his head where you could reach before kissing him deeply on the lips. He stirred more, trying to break away but you stubbornly refused to let him go. It didn’t take long until he was lazily kissing you back, his lips a little chapped from the heat and dusty wind. Dark eyes opened, groggily staring at you with a little gleam of annoyance shining through. You beamed obnoxiously at him, glad that you finally got what you wanted.

“I swear,” you laughed kissing him again. “You could sleep anywhere and through anything Wolfwood.”

“Can,” he grumbled, “and have. But it’s hard to sleep through an incessant wife that refuses to let her beloved sleep.”

“You can keep sleeping,” you poked his nose. “But I need to get up. There’s food to make and chores to do.”

“And let my pillow go about her day? No thanks.”

“Your pillow is retiring so let me up,” you wiggled and squirmed. Nicholas just continued to glare which wasn’t working as he was too cute with his sleep mussed hair and groggy expression. You snorted trying to fix the worm’s nest he called hair to no avail. He wordlessly lifted himself off of you but kept a secure grip so you couldn’t get away from him. You sucked in a breath as he gently crawled his way up to your face. His warm breath puffing against your skin he slid one hand down towards yours before interlacing your fingers. He squeezed gently before pressing his forehead to yours making you both sigh in bliss. This had become a habit between you two, that no one else got to see or know. Nicholas had been the first one to do it and it just had become a thing between you both. You couldn’t think long about the history behind his gesture before he was kissing you deeply, taking your mind off everything but him. You sighed sinking further into the mattress while he kept one hand in yours and the other keeping him up over your body. Knowing he had you right where he wanted you Nicholas released you, licking your lingering taste from his lips before suddenly crashing down on top of you. You yelped and grunted at the sudden weight.

“Nicholas,” you gasped trying to shove him off, “you’re crushing me!”

He huffed, maneuvering the majority off of you but refusing to let you go as he nuzzled into your plush chest. His breathing began to slow letting you know that he was on the verge of going back to sleep.

“Noooo don’t go back to sleep,” you shrieked causing Nicholas to grumble but it didn’t take him long before he was back to sleeping just glad to have you in bed with him.

Nicholas blinked blearily as the sunlight streamed through the broken window of the room he had rented. His machine gun was clear across the room and no weapon was within his reach. He moaned wearily trying to rise from the bed as his joints protested. After all the horrors he had put himself through, he was finally paying the price of pushing himself so hard. Without seeing, he knew he wasn’t alone as the thoughts of last night came flooding back. He shook his head trying to disperse the last of the memory that had decided to haunt him in his sleep before rubbing at his eyes. A familiar red coat caught his eye before he spotted the sleeping Vash sitting in a chair at his bedside. For just a few moments he allowed himself to glare at the man who had interrupted him from finally getting the freedom from pain he so wanted. Without you nothing in life was worth living. Vash would completely disagree with Nicholas’ outlook, but the blond haired man had always had a sunny outlook no matter how bleak things looked. Nicholas scoffed, earning a tired grumble from the man he had called friend for many years. He got up to cross the room back to his weapon but Vash woke up before he could make it there.

“Get out.” Nicholas snarled his patience worn thinner than ever.

“Good morning to you too.” Vash replied getting up from the chair and stretching his limbs. He yawned widely scratching at his messy blond hair before his bright blue gaze settled upon the other man.

“I didn’t want your help and I don’t need it either,” Nicholas suddenly shouted. He was sure everyone in the inn could hear but at this point he no longer cared about anything. “And why did you stop me? I didn’t ask anything from you and this is my business to take care of!”

Vash glared back at him, though his eyes weren’t filled with rage but a sadness that ran so deep nobody could explore the depths. He had lost so much and was still losing daily for so long that he couldn’t keep up with everything. Vash had become so close to the man they called The Punisher he couldn’t stand the thought of him just throwing his life away, especially if there was even a iota of a chance you still lived. “And let another one of my friends die? I wasn’t going to let you kill yourself. (Y/N) is still out there and she needs you. What good are you if you’re dead?”

His brother’s forces are people who he knew well. He couldn’t help but think you were still alive. In his own way he had been looking as well but if he wasn’t careful he would wind up getting you killed by Knives, if his brother knew Vash had interest in you. It was a horrible game they had played for so very long and Vash had learned to play it well. Nicholas was a different player though and he couldn’t tell him what to do. Everything was falling apart and you were needing the man you loved greatly now and he about snuffed himself out. Vash was relieved that he could intervene just in time before your last hope was taken away.

“I didn’t want you to find me and she’s dead.” Nicholas suddenly whispered. “It would be better if I just met her now in the afterlife.”

“She’s not dead,” Vash replied the conviction strong in his voice.

“I would have found her by now Vash! Nobody is talking and do you think you can extract information better than I can?”

Nicholas knew that Vash didn’t believe in his methods, but he didn’t care, not at this point. If he thought the Eye of Michael was going to give out information without spilling a little blood, he had another thing coming. Though Vash knew the members well he didn’t have the strength to do what Nicholas could, at least that’s how the undertaker saw things. He didn’t know deep down inside that Vash knew that if it would have changed things he would have done it.

“They wouldn’t be trying so hard to keep you away if they weren’t keeping her alive,” Vash tried again to reason with him. “They don’t want you taking her back as they know they can control you that way.”

“They don’t want me to go on a rampage.”

“You ARE going on a rampage Nicholas!” Vash couldn’t believe it as he felt like he was losing more ground than gaining when it came to stubborn Nicholas. Did he not realize how sloppy he had gotten in his rage? The proof was littered across the land in the form of blood stained sand. “Do you want to know how I found you?! The corpses you left behind, it wasn’t hard to track you.” Vash shuddered at the memory of half alive corpses being gnawed on by worms and scavengers as they laid there barely breathing. The haunted mutterings of a dead man gone mad about a black shape, of the Punisher’s return and his quest for vengeance and answers. “If I can track you the Eye of Michael really are, keeping just out of your reach. Do you know how fast word travels especially when it comes to word on the Punisher making his big return? You idiot no wonder you’re not getting anything done by yourself. Besides do you think (Y/N) is that weak that she would die so easily?”

“No.” Nicholas couldn’t help but grin at the memory of you saving him more than once.

“Exactly. So stop sulking and get ready to go, we have to rescue her.” Vash left no room for arguments, “But before we do you have to shave that stupid beard off your face.”

Nicholas glared, “She always liked it.”

“I knew she had poor taste when she married you,” he laughed slapping the undertaker on the back. He left Nicholas alone with faith that he was back on his feet and wouldn’t try anything rash. Meryl was waiting outside the door, her eyes were a little wet as she had heard the conversation. Vash embraced her trying to comfort her as he wanted her at her best as they tried to survive, to bring you back home. He had to find food as Nicholas was weak and still on the verge of collapse from not taking care of himself. It would be a hard battle and he didn’t know the horrors that laid before them, but no preparation could have readied them for what they would find.

You were dragging behind him, the exhaustion of the trip finally taking it’s toll. Nicholas tried to walk slower but no matter what pace he took, you couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t blame you as you both had been traveling for some time, it was getting to him but he couldn’t afford to show you that. He wanted to stay strong for you and help you through the blocks you stumbled across. He had known you for a couple years now and he was protective and he enjoyed the company. You were less annoying than Vash and despite having a sharp tongue like Meryl he found that he could tolerate your sharp wit better. Though he still teased you as harshly as he did the dark haired woman. He grinned at the though of you and Meryl having an all out battle of wits. He would pay good money to see that, though he’d have to put his whole wager on you. Once you got mad enough nobody was able to outwit you. He found that out several times and had ended up with a red mark on his cheek on one or more occasions.

 He smirked looking back at you, despite stumbling around you gave him a grin. You never complained sticking close to by his side, it always amazed him. When you both had first met it had seemed like chance, but now he could call it destiny as you had no reason to stay by his side. You were a bounty hunter and a good one at that. Your name traveled fast across Noman’s Land, that even he The Punisher knew just who you were. You had crossed his path, hunting another bounty when the people of the barely civilized town started shouting about the local orphanage. Without a word you and him sprung into action, taking no mercy upon the bandits that had decided they could pick upon the poor children and their caretakers. Nicholas watched in awe as you protected the little ones with no thought of your own safety, you’d even saved him a couple times that day. He grinned at the memory as you and he decided that day to not part ways but to become partners. He’d always worked alone, preferred it even. But since you came around he found that being alone wasn’t as fun anymore. You continued to carry your trusty weapon, but now using it for more than just money. You brought out the best in Nicholas and he felt better for it. He held out his hand to you as the sun begun to darken, his skin tough and calloused but still soft in it’s own way. You didn’t hesitate interlacing your fingers with his before he pressed his forehead to yours. You both continued to walk across the sand.

Vash was proving hard to keep up with to Nicholas now as his body was drained of all fight. But the stubborn man known as the Stampede refused to let his friend give up no matter what. Meryl stayed out of their way, afraid that any second Nicholas could lose it at any moment and that wasn’t far from the truth. Vash was the only one who didn’t fear him. 

Vash didn’t say much or explain he just lead his team with a strength that could only come from certainty. When he had first met you while traveling with Nicholas he knew that you were good for the Undertaker. It was a match made that benefited both parties but mostly Nicholas as he had never really had anything good in life and whatever good was ripped away in a horrible way. But now he was dealing with loss again and without proof of your demise Vash wasn’t letting the possibility that you drew breath go down in flames until he had solid evidence that you did in fact perish in the Eye of Michael’s bout of revenge. He worriedly looked back as the dark haired man stumbled, clearly losing the fight to continue onward. Vash would drag him, carry him if need be. He needed you and you needed him, it was cruel fate in this world that had brought you two together and the same fate had ripped you from him. Vash wanted to stand before fate, tell it that it wasn’t going to do such a thing to his friend, even if it meant that he had to rip you from it’s horrible grasp.

Vash had met you several years ago when he had come across Nicholas once more in his journey. It was hard for him to imagine the Undertaker settling down so quickly with one woman. But as soon as you had said your name and shook Vash’s hand, he knew immediately why Nicholas had kept you around. You laughed easily and you could turn in a second and be serious. Plus you could give The Punisher a run for his money when needed. Vash found you easy to talk to so as the fire he had built glowed in the night, Vash sat closely lost in conversation. You both exchanged stories while Meryl sat at Vash’s side. The only one who wasn’t sitting nearby the group was Nicholas. Standing in the dark, a shadow lost in the desert and the only thing you could see was his lit cigarette gleaming when he took slow drags from it. Though you couldn’t see him you could feel a slight tension in the air. You just shrugged it off mentally as him pouting for not being the center of attention. You found you liked Vash, not in the way you loved Nicholas, but the blond haired man was so easy going, he was a jewel to talk with. You forgot your problems in the midst of company and you felt like you could relax like you hadn’t gotten to in years. 

When the fire began to wane, everyone knew it was getting quite late. Vash helped you up from the sand with a gentle hand. You thanked him graciously and found your way to Nicholas. He glared at the retreating red coated man’s back. Jealousy was an ugly monster for everyone, but Nicholas had given in so easily. You weren’t going to put yourself forward to appease him as it was something that he was going to have to look on himself. You patted his cheek, leaving him there to go get yourself comfortable for sleeping. Moments later Nicholas laid down beside you, his body language stiff and full of anger. You rolled your eyes continuing to ignore him when he suddenly rolled you over. You found yourself looking straight into those livid dark eyes and without another word he kissed you deeply, putting all his frustrations out in the form of a rough and sloppy kiss. He left you breathless when he finally pulled away, pulling you possessively into his chest. He didn’t have to say a word as he felt like he had staked his claim once more. You laughed quietly letting him do whatever made him feel better. Vash was handsome but he couldn’t compare to your Nicholas.

Vash chuckled at the memory, looking back once more towards Nicholas. He seemed to be walking better now, his heavy cross no longer dragging him down so precariously. He seemed to have a new life being brought back with each step he took. Maybe hope was beginning to form back into his very being. Nicholas loved you like he had loved no other. He hid his feelings behind his cocky attitude or dark sunglasses. He refused to let anyone close or see the real him. Then he met you and he buried himself deeper, afraid that you would find the true being that hid inside. You forcefully drug him into the light, exposing all his darkness and you remained. You bared your darkness, showing him that he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t the only tragic being lost in the world. Everybody carried regrets, you were just created to help him through his. That’s why he married you, made you his officially. But just as much you were his, he was yours as well. 

He couldn’t afford to let people know of his tragedy and what he brought upon the people just trying to make their way in the horrible uncaring world. He chuckled darkly seeing the blood still dripping from his rough skin. You had wiped that away, where he could see hands to be proud of. Once you disappeared that blood reappeared stronger than ever. He was drowning in a sea of crimson and all he could do was poor more into the sea as he drowned. He didn’t care who stood in his way, if they were a part of the evil that he had once been a part of they would die. Slowly, painfully, he would wrought upon then a thousand times worse than they could possibly think of to do to you. Stealing you away from him, was going to prove being the biggest mistake that they had ever made. 

He grinned wickedly, madness once again taking over. Meryl shivered at the unhinged posture in Nicholas’ body, Vash just shook his head pain gripping his heart. You needed to still be alive, nobody else could shake him from this darkness swallowing Nicholas D. Wolfwood whole. Nicholas had once again become the man who was pushed by revenge and an objective to bring as much pain as possible to the people who wronged him. A true Punisher trekking across the sandy planet, staining it a deeper red with spilled blood of innocents and enemies alike. Vash needed your help, now more than ever.

They settled down when darkness coated the horizon and left them without a sliver of light to track. Nicholas sat far away from Vash and Meryl, preferring to be alone despite their protests. He looked up at the sky remembering looking at the worms dancing through the night sky with you. He missed those quiet moments on the porch with you. He could still feel you next to him, talking about mundane things you had done throughout the day. It made him grin as he never thought he would be able to have such a simple life with someone. The first night in the new house had been his favorite out of all the memories he shared with you.

It wasn’t much and it had been empty for so long that all the hospitality that a home brought had long ago left. But to Nicholas it looked like a mansion as he hadn’t known of much comfort in life. You were so happy to have a place to call home with your husband you adored. You wanted to be the best wife you could be for him as he wanted to be the best husband for you. You both worked together, cleaning what little you could with the little bit of supplies. There wasn’t much to eat but it felt like a feast as Nicholas sat across from you on the floor. You hummed in delight at each bite and it was catching as Nicholas began scarfing down his share. 

The night was quickly coming, darkening the few rooms to where it was hard to see. You had a couple threadbare blankets draped across the floor as a makeshift bed, but you only had one pillow. Nicholas searched for you in the dark, his hand finally finding your arm he pulled you to him. The silver light from the moons streaking across the floor and painted your smaller form in pale light. Nicholas licked his lips, finally having you to himself in private. A hunger had been stewing in his being and as soon as he closed the rickety door to the bedroom, it erupted and he had to sate himself before he went wild. 

You trembled slightly in his grip sensing his needs and feeling the same as him. Now that he could see you better thanks to the moons’ light he stroked your hair letting the long tendrils slip through his fingers while the other roamed your feminine form. You stroked his face, feeling the sharp lines of his jaw littered with a sparse beard. He explored you as he opened himself to you. He untangled his fingers from your soft locks to thread through your fingers. He kissed the back of your hand, littering every scar and callous with a loving kiss and making his way up your arm. Nicholas nibbled at your neck causing you to moan and moving your head to give him better access before he pressed his forehead to yours. He stood there for awhile just enjoying taking in your scent and the feel of your body against his burning one. He was an impatient man and when you tugged at the few buttons that he kept buttoned on his shirt did his patience fly out the window. Before laying you down on the blankets laid across the floor he removed the shirt that had you so desperately tried to remove yourself. Nicholas hovered above you pressing kisses wherever he could, losing himself to you in the darkness. You held onto him tightly, grasping his back as he devoured you.

Nicholas awoke to sunlight streaming through the window across him and your bodies pressed together. Your haired glowed like a halo in the light and your skin a caramel kissed by the golden rays. He sucked in a breath as he lost himself in your beauty. He could still fell your lips pressed against his while you nipped at his collarbone. Your body tattooed against his fingertips and scratches littered across his scarred back. He chuckled laying back but still holding you into his side. He dug a cigarette from his abandoned pants laying in a pile on the floor. He lit a match, igniting the cigarette and blowing a cloud up in the air. You groaned in your sleep, tapping his bare chest.

“No smoking in the house,” you mumbled causing him to chuckle.

“Let me have this just this once,” he replied. “You tired me out last night.”

“You’re the one who thought once wasn’t enough,” you glared sleepily but relented in the argument with pink tinged cheeks. He squeezed you, thanking everything he could think of that he had you laid beside him in his little world.

Married life became easier and easier as the days passed. Nicholas found a job where he could bring a little money home to you and you were able to stay home to greet him every day. That was his favorite time of the day as you waited at the door, the light shining behind you silhouetting your shapely form just for him. Some nights he would just kiss you, others he would spin you around before kissing you, if he was feeling really lively he would dip you then press hot kisses to your mouth before deepening them. But majority of the time he would interlace your fingers together, kiss you deeply, tongue stroking against yours, and then press his forehead to yours. You had said that those were your absolute favorite, so he indulged you with this type of affection every time he could. He remembered one evening you were beyond ecstatic for him to be home. You had your hands behind your back as you danced from foot to foot. Nicholas began to wonder if someone had put worms down your pants when you pulled a piece of fabric from behind your back.

“I sewed us some curtains so maybe the sun won’t bother you as much in the mornings,” you shouted gleefully. Though definitely not sewn by a professional with the stitching all crooked and imperfect. You were so proud of yourself that Nicholas couldn’t help but fall in love with you further and love the curtains you made for the home. The next evening you had made him a handkerchief that he wore in his pocket proudly. That fateful morning though when he left, everything had been normal. You sent him off with lunch and a quick kiss. You always stood in the doorway watching him leave until you could see him no longer, then you’d go back inside and do whatever needed to be done. 

Nicholas had been excited all day to leave work, to go home and see you as he earned a little extra income, so he stopped on his way home to buy a special treat for you both. With a slice of cake in tow for each of you he headed home. He expected to see you standing in the doorway like normal, waiting for his return. But instead of your form greeting him, he was met with smoke as his and your house smoldered from a raging fire. He screamed, dropping the treats into the sand while he stumbled down the dunes of sand between him and home. He called your name, screaming it until his throat strained. Still you didn’t answer, the smoke stung his eyes causing tears to stream down his dirty face as he took in his destroyed home. The curtains you had made so carefully fluttering in singed tatters. Still no sign of you remained just large puddles of blood and then a long streak that ended a few yards out in the desert. Nicholas knew immediately who had done such a thing, he found his machine gun he had put away just for you, scorched but still in working order and set off to destroy the people who took you from him.

Nicholas groaned in his sleep, patting at his side to try and find you lying right beside him. All his hand met was cold sand and the cool metal of his machine gun. He huffed as the memories of your disappearance rushed back all at once. He heaved a sigh pushing himself upwards and looking towards the horizon. The first pink light of morning greeted him as did Vash’s snores and Meryl’s quiet breathing. He pulled a cigarette and rose from the ground before lighting it. He smoked several before the other two even started to stir. He had thought hard about just leaving them again, but Vash had the uncanny ability of being exactly where Nicholas didn’t want him, so to save himself rage he decided to stay. Vash knew exactly where he was going and despite his best efforts Nicholas hadn’t made any headway in finding you. If Vash was correct that you still were alive, he’d owe that stupid needle noggin a drink. Several drinks. He scoffed throwing down the stub left of his cigarette and put it out with his shoe.

“Glad of you to join me,” he growled. “You two going to get up or do I have to start the day myself?”

“Breakfast first,” Meryl replied before turning over and falling back to sleep. Vash chuckled but Nicholas was not amused.

  Once they were back making progress Nicholas didn’t seem as anxious, though he was walking better today than he had yesterday. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were close. His heart was hammering against his chest and he couldn’t fight down the butterflies in his stomach. His eyes darted around, trying to spot any movement or sights of anything particular. All he could see was the large expanse of sand stretching as far as the eyes can see. Vash was talking with Meryl, both laughing about something Vash said when Nicholas suddenly stopped and stiffened. He caught a scent on the air and the gleam of metal a few yards away.

“Get down,” he roared racing back to the others. He jumped, tackling them to the sand when a gunshot rang out. A high caliber sniper rifle by the sound of it. Nicholas returned fire, his stomach suddenly sick. The gunshots echoed through the sky, bouncing off the mountains miles away. Nicholas snarled, baring his teeth as he spun his weapon around.

“Sniper,” Vash yelled pushing Meryl back further.

“Thanks for the info,” Nicholas snarled. “I didn’t notice!”

“This is no time for being sarcastic,” Meryl screamed trying to protect her head.

“Then tell your boyfriend quit stating the obvious,” Nicholas roared again returning fire. Another shot echoed hitting the sand next to his feet. Nicholas danced around trying to make himself a harder target. Vash scurried around trying to keep from being hit. Shots were exchanged over and over again, filling the expanse with nothing but the sounds of gunfire like some sadistic orchestra. Nicholas panted, trying to reload as fast as he could, before he spotted a blond blur race across the sand. Nicholas cursed abandoning reloading to chase after the idiot. He should of known Vash wasn’t going to make this easy for him as he caught up to him.

“What are you doing?!”

“I can’t let you two kill each other,” Vash replied still running. Another shot rang out, hitting the sand between them. Vash yelped and Nicholas cursed again.

“You’re going to get yourself killed instead you idiot,” Nicholas threw an empty clip at him. Vash only laughed crazily while dodging the clip.

“Stop laughing!”

It was obvious where they’re attacker was laid up as they kept shooting at him and Vash while they raced towards where the shots were coming from. Nicholas was finally able to reload before they got there and the sight before them chilled his blood. The Eye of Michael had done it again. Thoughts of Livio raced forward churning his stomach but this time he couldn’t tell who the person was before him. It was a woman, the majority of her face covered by a metal mask. Her hair had been cut haphazardly, leaving it choppy and wild. Eyes that normally would show emotion and thoughts behind them, were blank and her movements were robotic. Nicholas raised, aiming at their attacker when Vash bumped into him.

“Watch it needle noggin,” he shoved him away.

“Don’t kill her,” Vash yelled once again racing forward putting himself in harms way.

“She’s trying to kill us!”

“She’s being controlled,” Vash tried to get Nicholas out of killing mode. The dark haired man wasn’t having it as he aimed again. But this time Vash stepped in front of the woman. Nicholas cursed, contemplating just shooting through Vash and killing them both in one go. At least he’d have some form of revenge against his attacker and get rid of a headache to boot. At last his more rational side tore through and he lowered the gun. But it wasn’t wasted on him that she pulled a pistol from behind her back, shooting at Vash who was still dodging bullets like it was some sort of deadly dance. Nicholas charged forward his feet churning up sand as he reared the large, heavy machine gun with his whole body and swung it like a bat. He hit the strange assassin at her side sending her sideways several feet.

“Quit playing patty cake with her,” Nicholas shouted. “You’re going to die! We end this now!”

“Don’t,” Vash panted. “Don’t kill her Nicholas.”

Nicholas racked another round into the chamber, “Yeah cause she’s so intent on making up and becoming friends.”

“You’ll regret it,” Vash tried to argue.

“There’s bigger things that I regret. Taking out another nobody is not going to be another one.”

She still laid sprawled out, trying to rise from the ground. Nicholas reared a foot back sending it into her side, cracking a rib and putting her on her back. She didn’t even cry out in pain due to the control she was under. It reminded him so much of Livio it made his arm tremble as he aimed. He put a foot on her chest keeping her pinned. He shook his head trying to rid himself of doubts, it gave her freedom to suddenly reach for her boot and pull a knife. Without a second thought she plunged it into Nicholas’ thigh. He grunted stumbling backwards as blood began to ooze down his thigh.

“You sorry,” he started but she ambushed him. Swinging and shooting, he barely kept up. Twisting his body, stepping backwards, and using his cross as a shield. With the barrage he couldn’t return anything until she stumbled. He swung across hitting her straight across the jaw. His hand cracked but her mask shattered. What he saw next caused him to sink down and scream out in anguish.

His (Y/N) stood right before him, her stare as blank as the dead. What made her her was nowhere to be found as she continued to rock from the hit he just gave her. Vash dropped his head feeling Nicholas’ despair coat the atmosphere.

“No! No no no no! It can’t be,” his voice cracked. All he could do was scream at the sky and curse everything that had brought him here to this moment. He wanted to find you so bad, but he never wanted to find you this way. Brainwashed and used for something you weren’t meant to. It was Livio all over again and he found it worse. They tainted you, stripping you from your humanity making you into a killing machine. He should have seen it, should have protected you. His failures all came crashing down burying him quickly to where he could drown from the overwhelming anguish.

“Don’t kill her,” Vash cried trying to crawl forward.

“I,” Nicholas heaved as he teetered on the verge of throwing up and taking his own life again. “I can’t! I can’t do it!”

“Save her,” Vash tried again.

“I can’t!”

“You can! Nicholas please!”

“Kill me,” Nicholas pleaded. “Vash shoot me please I can’t stand it!”

“She needs you,” Vash screamed tears flowing down his cheeks. Nicholas sobbed loudly, his tears staining the sand while blood spread around him from the knife still lodged in his thigh.

“They took her from me! Kill me Vash!”

“I am not shooting you!” Vash was growing angry. He had felt such despair like Nicholas was feeling, but not getting up and dealing with the problem was solving nothing. Nicholas couldn’t look at your face without the guilt eating at his insides.

“Nicholas she’s crying,” Vash finally made it to his side forcing the Undertaker to look up. Sure enough you stood before the two men, whole body shaking and tears flowing freely from one eye that wasn’t swelling shut.

“She’s still in there don’t give up on her. She’s fighting,” Vash shook Nicholas violently. “Get your stupid pigheaded butt up and save your wife right now or I may just change my mind and shoot you anyway!”

Nicholas rose, his legs shaking. He stumbled almost falling back down as his body fought the whole way. She was right there, not in a good state but he had wanted to find her. It had felt like his sole purpose when she was stolen from him. Now she was here and needed him now more than ever. He would have crawled through the very pits of torment to find her and bring her back. He had never thought about them turning her into a weapon. Before finding him she had been the best bounty hunter. She could give him a run for his money when it came to aim and fighting. It made him chuckle at their shooting contests before grimacing. She was definitely better on her game as he still was sporting her wound that made walking harder. He would lose all the blood in his body if it would bring her back, he would let her shoot him before he ever riddled her lovely body with bullet holes. He almost did and it made him sick. He was stupid he should have realized it was her way before he broke the horrible mask they had forced upon her.

“(Y/N),” he smirked before coughing up blood. “Come back to me.”

She shook her head, fighting for control but the programming was taking it’s toll as she reached for another pistol. Nicholas walked right into the barrel, encircling her wrist with his hand and lowering the weapon to point to the ground. She fought at first her strength waning as she tried to raise it back up to his face. He kept a steady grip keeping it pointed down while he wiped the blood on his pants leg off his other hand. He reached up stroking her cheek, she flinched from the touch before calming back down.

  “N…N,” she tried to speak and he shushed her. He trailed downwards from her cheek, sliding across her neck, and down her arm to where he could grasp her hand. Stroking at the skin on the back of her hand he gave himself time before threading her digits with his. She gasped in a breath, light going in and out of her eyes. He grinned taking his time with bringing her back to him. Leaning downwards Nicholas took in her scent, his hot breath puffing across the skin of her collarbone and neck. She shivered involuntary the old (Y/N) still under the surface fighting to get out. He took his time looking right into her eyes before he finally made it to his destination. Nicholas gently placed his forehead to hers.

“Wake up already would you,” he whispered breathlessly. She gasped in his grasp and fell to the ground. Nicholas caught her, grunting from the weight on his injured leg. You cried loudly, unable to move just laying limply in Nicholas’ arms.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed ashamed to look in the face of your husband. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Nicholas shushed you kissing you deeply. “I’m the one who should be sorry. This is all my fault.”

“I tried to kill you,” you wailed. “You and Vash! And Meryl!” Tears wouldn’t stop flowing as they streaked the dirt and blood across your face.

“It’s not like you never wanted to kill me before,” he chuckled darkly.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “No never kill. Maybe stab a couple of times or something but I don’t think I could live without you.”

Nicholas grimaced moving his leg around a little with the knife handle still sticking up. “Well you succeeded in getting one stab in at least.”

You gasped touching the handle and causing him to hiss. “Still a little tender,” he winked.

“I’m sorry!”

“I’m not,” he whispered. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Thank you for bringing me back,” you whispered back. “Though you did bust my face up and break one of my ribs.” Nicholas grimaced but wasted no time in kissing you again. Vash stumbled back to where Meryl waited to check up on her and giving you two a little privacy. You tended to Nicholas and yourself as best as you could, you would need to get you both to the nearest town for an actual doctor to take care of your and his wounds. But for now you both wanted to just stay there for a little while longer and not think of all the horrible things that just happened. Nicholas cursed a little later when he remembered he promised Vash drinks if he was correct in your state. Though you hadn’t been yourself when found, you were still alive. You looked at your husband worriedly before he waved the concern away. You would just laugh at his dilemma anyway. Vash helped you two get back home after Nicholas and you had been seen by a professional doctor and cleared to go home.

You took in the state of you and Nicholas’ home, hot tears coming quickly at the state of the wreckage. Nicholas held you close knowing that you two were more than a house.

“Anywhere with you is home to me,” he finally spoke after you cried for a little while. “We’ll build it back better than ever.”

“We don’t have to,” you said worried about the funds.

“I’ll keep working and we’ll use it to build it however you want,” he kissed you. “Your wish is my command m’lady.”

“Can we get a room in town to stay until then?”

“Already on it.” Nicholas lead you towards the darkened city. “Vash is useful when he’s not being annoying.”

You laughed, “He’s your best friend.”

“Unfortunately,” Nicholas snorted. You laughed, refusing to let go of Nicholas. You had been so afraid that you would never get to see him again when you were captured. You had thought about him every moment of every day until they had stripped everything from you. Then all you could remember is the blackness that engulfed you. You shivered at the thought of the blank being they had created from you. Nicholas mistakenly took your shivers as you being cold as he held you tighter. He never wanted to lose you in such a way ever again. He didn’t care that his past had come back to haunt him, he didn’t care who he had to take out. As long as you were safe and by his side he needing nothing else. You were his everything his world that he wouldn’t give up for anything. He looked down at you with a warm smile.

“I think I need to catch up on the loving you’ve been holding out on me,” he smirked and you blushed.

You slapped his chest, “Pervert. Is that all you think about?”

“When it comes to you yes. And how am I a pervert when I’m your husband?”

You huffed looking away teasingly, “You just are it’s your natural mentality.”

“Like you don’t think about me in a perverted way.”

“Never.”

“I beg to differ,” he snorted leaning in towards your ear. “Remember that one night…”

“Stop,” you screeched blush rushing down to your neck. Nicholas laughed causing your heart to skip a beat. How you had missed him, you never wanted to be taken away from him ever again. You stepped closer intertwining your fingers. Nicholas bumped your forehead quickly as he didn’t want to stop walking. The desert was becoming cold and he was ready for a room to spend the night with you once more. He had found you and he didn’t care what he had done to get you back by his side. He never regretted anything and he would tell anyone who asked that he would do everything the same as the outcome had brought you back. He squeezed you tighter losing himself in your presence. You were his paradise, it didn’t matter where he was at as long as he had you and you felt the same way. The worms light the sky as you both came to the city, ready to rebuild your lives after the terror had torn it apart. Hand in hand you both faced the future bravely and ready for whatever arose.

[peaches2217]

In my own Marioverse, Bowser kidnapping Peach doesn't actually happen very often. Like, at all.

In fact, it only happens twice.

There’s animosity between him and Peach, absolutely, but he usually terrorizes her by way of sending troops to wreak havoc against her citizens. That's not ideal of course, but it’s just part of life; every Toad knows what to do at the first sign of trouble (read: run home screaming), there’s defenses and preventative measures alike in place, it's easy to counter and unsurprising before too long. Unpleasant, but not even particularly disruptful at this point.

And then one night, the princess vanishes, and all that’s left is a letter on her bed in harsh handwriting: Bowser’s bored of his own games and wants control of the Mushroom Kingdom, and until he gets it, Peach will remain his prisoner.

At this point, Mario is a member of her guard (how exactly that happens I haven't decided yet, so for now I default to this brilliant work by the supremely talented @bacidipesca and inspired by the also supremely talented @elitadream), as well as one of her closest friends. He's earned a reputation for his courage, strength, and selflessness, but no one at this point's actually expecting him to drop everything and go charging into Bowser's home territory to save her.

Mario is also a hothead with chronic hero syndrome. It's not just that he's hopelessly smitten close with her. Peach took him and Luigi in after they found themselves stranded in a strange world, giving them kindness, security, a place to call home. She's had Mario's undying loyalty from the moment they first met. Of course he's going to save her.

His actions are a shock to pretty much everyone, especially Bowser. He was expecting either the reluctant but unconditional surrender of her nation or an army, one of the two, not some guy with a funny accent who comes up to the princess' shoulder — who is both significantly faster and somehow almost as strong as him. The surprise works in Mario's favor, and he's able to free Peach and bring her back home not even two full days after her kidnapping, and he's battered and a little singed, but otherwise no worse for the wear.

I wanna go into more depth about the events between Kidnappings 1 and 2 in another post because this is already getting waaaaaay longer than I meant for it to, so to keep it short! Mario gets promoted to Peach's primary bodyguard, and all the extra time together means they go from best friends quietly crushing on each other to best friends in desperate, burning, all-consuming love with one another. So when Bowser kidnaps her once more, it's a hell of a lot more personal.

And Bowser's not underestimating Mario this time around; he's put a shocking amount of effort into ramping up his defenses and keeping Peach's exact location and state of well-being hidden. Mario won't be able to waltz in and carry her out. He makes one wrong move and he's dead. And now Bowser's threatening to outright kill Peach if his demands aren't met, so he's on borrowed time.

It's a very long three months. While Toadsworth spearheads efforts to string Bowser along, walking a fine line between not giving into his threats but also keeping him unsuspicious, Mario trains himself half to death, because he is going to face Bowser, and he is going to kill the bastard, and he is going to bring Peach home safely. He probably would train himself to death if not for Luigi dragging him inside and forcing him to eat and sleep every so often. He doesn't know if Peach is safe or comfortable or even alive, and he won't (willfully) rest until that changes.

The time and resources it takes just reaching Bowser saps most of his energy. The fight nearly kills him. He uses the last of his strength to pry the bars of Peach's cell open and then collapses from a combination of exhaustion, blood loss, and shock. If not for her healing powers, he would've died there on the dungeon floor.

He didn't kill Bowser. He didn't have time. But Bowser received a thrashing pretty damn proportionate to the one he gave Mario. He's oddly quiet from that point on, and no one in the Mushroom Kingdom complains. There's still an ever-lingering fear that he might come back, he might target them once more, he might succeed at what he attempted twice... but the truth is, so long as Mario's alive, he's not getting anywhere NEAR Princess Peach, much less the Mushroom Kingdom.

Bowser may be egotistical and a little dense, but he's not stupid, and he doesn't have a death wish. There's other conquests to be had, conquests against enemies that won't fight back (or at least won't miserably kick his ass).

[sombersummerskies]

A Sage's Regret: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Search Party

Word Count: 4658

CW: Injury, violence

Want all the chapters? -> Masterlist

~~~ <> ~~~

The cool water of the lake caught your body. You find yourself submerged, eyes stinging as you look at the surface above you. The water bent the light of the rising sun, causing it to bounce and move across the floor of the lake. You use your legs to push off of the gravel and force yourself upward, taking in a breath of air once you swim up.

You manage to drag yourself to the water’s edge, practically crawling onto land where you then fall back and collapse onto the ground. Your chest rises and falls quickly, the adrenaline of jumping from such great height slowly fading. The grass tickles your skin as you stare up. The Great Sky Island is distant now, a hazy silhouette far above you. It was still a tad difficult for you to comprehend that you had been all the way up there, and now you were back on the solid ground of Hyrule.

Unfortunately, with the adrenaline being sapped from your veins you suddenly found yourself feeling incredibly weak. It wasn’t only from the corruption of the gloom on your body, it was also from the fact that your rest had been minimal these last three days. It wasn’t easy to sleep when all you had was a tiny campfire, the rags on your back, and the cold air. Beyond that, you hadn’t eaten much either, save for the apples and mushrooms you’d been able to roast over the open flame.

Your arms shake as you attempt to push yourself up off the ground. You stumble to your feet and reassess your surroundings. It was easy to spot Lookout Landing, the tower which was attached to the fortress stood proudly on the horizon. It was impossible to miss.

Beyond that, however, was Hyrule Castle. You gasp as you look at it. The majority of the castle, as well as the ground it stood on, had been lifted up into the sky. Thick clouds of gloom poured out of the chasm beneath it. This must have been the result of the actions the mummified man had performed.

Your hands curl into fists as you glare at the structure. You wanted to find him and off him yourself. You wanted to make him regret everything he’s ever done and plans to do. You wanted to inflict pain upon him which was tenfold what you’d been made to endure.

But you knew you couldn’t. You didn’t have the strength. Nor was such vengefulness becoming of a trained knight, sworn to the princess and the goddess Hylia. Still, you couldn’t lie to yourself. The angry and spiteful thoughts lingered in the back of your mind, impulses that you knew better than to act upon.

With a heavy sigh, you begin to trudge through the fields of central Hyrule. Your resources were limited. All you wore was some old clothing you’d found while on the island, an odd robe and sash, and a pair of flimsy sandals. Your weapon was a rusted sword that you had used your new fuse ability to combine with the horn of a soldier construct. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough to fend off the few Bokoblins you came across during your trek.

Admittedly it felt rather humiliating that a battle with a simple red Bokoblin could take the wind out of your lungs.

It felt like a mercy as you approached the entrance to the fortress, the gate coming into your view. You were caked in mud, dirt, and some specks of your own blood since a few monsters had gotten the better of you with their own weapons. You desperately needed to rest. Two Hylian men stand guard at the moat- two of your trainees. Once they spot you they light up and come running toward you.

Drozer, a brunette, gasps loudly, “captain? It’s you! You’re back! Wh-where have you been?!”

The other soldier, a redhead named Burwar, seems shocked. “Last anyone saw of either you or Princess Zelda was when you went to investigate the gloom… and then the castle rose into the sky, and everyone’s been so worried about what happened to you both!” he exclaims, “Purah has nearly worn herself out trying to figure out where you two went. Please, report to her right away! She’ll want to know you’re alright.”

Breathless, you attempt to nod and say, “I will, thank you.”

You walk across the plaza of the fortress. It seems as though everyone’s eyes are immediately drawn to you. There are whispers and murmurings, some even go so far as to point at you- no, not you, at your new arm. Self-conciously you find yourself attempting to hide the limb, using your left hand to cover part of it.

Quickening your pace you walk up the stairs to the second floor of the landing. As you approach the laboratory you realize someone is standing outside of it- a young Shiekah girl. She turns and spots you, quickly perking up and bounding toward you. Her white hair bounces with every step she takes.

“That hair! Those eyes!” she exclaims, adjusting her glasses, “duh- duh- Doc! Doctor Purah! The knight! The knight has returned!”

There’s a sudden clatter inside of the lab, items seemingly toppling over and footsteps rushing across the wooden floor. The door is suddenly swung open and you’re greeted by a familiar sight. Purah huffs, having to adjust her goggles which had fallen askew. She examines you with wide eyes.

“Okay, now where have you been? _____… you’re not a ghost, are you? Hey…” she trails off, her gaze trailing down to your right arm. Once again you find yourself feeling somewhat embarrassed by it, nervously flexing your fingers. Purah hums, “that looks interesting… alright, one step at a time. What exactly happened?”

You explain everything to her. Your expedition, the ruins beneath the castle, the murals, the mummified man, the gloom. Zelda falling into the chasm, you jumping after her, her disappearance, the arm that had caught you. How you awoke on the sky island, how you’d traveled across it and completed the shrines. Rauru, the constructs, the Zonai technology. The disappearance of the Master Sword and how you’d lept to return here.

She nods as she listens, and you can practically see the cogs turning in her mind as she processes all of the information. “The castle rising up… that must have been at the same time as the rest of the islands in the sky appearing,” she wonders aloud, “not to mention, all of this extra debris falling from the sky as well. Then… wait, wait a minute, you’re saying you came from up there?!”

Purah points to the Great Sky Island, far up in the distance, in obvious shock. You shrug your shoulders slightly and say, “yes, I know, I’m confused about it too.”

Her heel taps the ground as she continues, “this Rauru you met… I think that’s what the first king of Hyrule was named. Are they one and the same? So much of this doesn’t make sense- yet. But I’m certain that mummy you found under the castle must be related to the Upheaval. The castle, the ruins, the mummy must be connected to it somehow.”

“As for Princess Zelda…” she sighs, “you say that on the Great Sky Island there was a voice? Her voice? It compelled you to look for her?”

You nod your head sternly.

“That means… she must still be alive! Maybe she’s trapped beneath the castle and needs our help…” Purah theorizes, her eyes flicking up and meeting yours. There’s a look of sympathy on her face before she utters, “well, that settles it. I know you only just returned, but I need you to meet with the search party up by Hyrule Castle. They’ve been searching tirelessly for you two.”

“On it,” you respond almost immediately. Of course, you would do whatever it took to find the princess. There was no question about that.

“The captain in charge of the search is Hoz. We thought him to be one of the most qualified in your absence. Work with him to find the princess as quickly as you can,” Purah explains, “I know that mummy may still be lurking somewhere around there. Which is concerning, to say the least, but we have more immediate problems to deal with right now. I’m counting on you!”

You turn your attention back to the castle toward the north. There was an ache in your body and an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Your body was craving rest and nutrients, you knew that. But you also needed to find Zelda. And if there was even the slimmest chance she was at the castle, then a nap and some food could wait.

Briefly, you step into the laboratory, rifling through the belongings you thankfully had left here. Though the small bed in the corner practically beckons you to lay in it, you force yourself to ignore it. You find something more suitable to wear, trousers and a tunic. Specifically, you select a tunic with longer sleeves, to thankfully cover up some of your right arm. You hated the attention it was drawing to you. You tug on a pair of boots but before you can walk out the door you catch your reflection in the mirror.

Pausing, you stop to stare at yourself. You look worse for wear, with dark bags beneath your eyes, and skin dry from having spent so much time at such a high altitude. Curiously you tug the collar of your tunic down and examine your collarbone and right shoulder. The skin where your new arm connects is patchy, the charcoal-colored fur melding awkwardly with your natural skin tone. With a sigh, you fix your shirt and look away.

‘I’ll worry about that later.’

After strapping your makeshift sword to your belt you leave the fortress. Marching north you walk through the ruins of Hyrule Castle Town, briefly pausing at a Shrine of Light to gain access to its travel point. You do not enter it to complete whatever the shrine puzzle is, though, there are more important matters to attend to. At the large gates that block the castle road, you hesitate.

You did not want to admit it, but the thought of venturing into the castle- or beneath it- once more made you feel nauseous. You would do it, of course, if it meant finding Zelda. But you couldn’t ignore the pit of anxiety in your stomach. After what had happened with the mummified man, you never wanted to be trapped so far underground ever again.

With a roll of your shoulders, you lift your right arm and call upon the Ultrahand ability. The arm glows as power surges through your veins. You’re able to latch onto one of the massive gate doors and you wrench your arm back. In turn, the door swings open for you, a feat you would never have been able to accomplish with the strength of a single Hylian.

Standing guard is another soldier you recognized, a blond named Raseno. As you begin to walk he stands up straight, shoulders squared and spear help defensively. “Hey!” he shouts, “this area is off-limits while we conduct our search for Princess Zelda and Captain _____. You can’t just come wandering in here like that-”

The man pauses, eyes going wide as he finally takes a moment to look at you and register your features. You raise a brow at him, folding your arms over your chest.

“C-captain? It’s you?!” he exclaims, “I’m sorry! I had no idea that you had returned! Wait… if you’re back, then does that mean we don’t need the search party anymore? You should go talk to Hoz- he’s leading the search efforts here from the first gatehouse up ahead. It’s at the very end of this road.”

You nod before you continue your trek up the road. Gloom seeps from the ground in thin wisps that you kick away as you walk. You pass by more soldiers, all of whom seem to be keeping the various entrances and exits of the lower levels of the castle blocked off. The rest of Hyrule Castle, however, looms high above you, the land mass casting a shadow from its new placement in the sky.

Finally, you reach the gatehouse. You walk inside it and find a small camp set up within its walls, with various tents and supplies scattered about. Within it, you find some more Hylians, though these you do not recognize. They’ve dressed themselves in makeshift armor and armed themselves with random weaponry, but these were not any of your trainees. They explained that they had heard of the princess’s disappearance and had volunteered themselves to aid in the search efforts. You commended them for their bravery.

One of the men stands in the corner and seems to be assessing some swords. You walk over curiously and ask what he is doing. The Hylian introduces himself as Purpen before turning his attention back to the weapons, “these ones are decayed as well. During the Upheaval, all the weapons- swords, spears, claymores, you name it- suddenly decayed.”

He continues to explain, “I’ve explored many regions in search of weapons that might still be intact. I found none. At this point, I’d be surprised if there were any intact weapons left in Hyrule. They’re also a real pain to repair, so the best thing to do is strengthen them.”

You walk to the rack of weapons and grab a sword, balancing the hilt in your hands as you examine it. The metal of the blade was stained with blemishes. You recognized it immediately, it was the same way the Master Sword had been tarnished during your encounter beneath the castle. It seemed that once the Upheaval had begun, this gloom had spread across the land and caused all of the weaponry to decay at the same time.

After a brief discussion with the men, you make your way to the top of the gatehouse, using Ascend to jump straight through the bricks of the building. It’s here that you find Hoz, who’s donned a soldier’s helmet now that he’s taken up the role of leading the search party. You can’t help but smile at seeing another familiar face.

You clear your throat as you approach him and the man shakes his head. Similarly to Raseno, he speaks before looking at you. “Sorry, but I’m in the middle of something…” he trails off before his green eyes finally meet yours, “... huh? _____? Is that you? You’re alive! And all in one piece, it looks like.”

‘Yeah, all in one piece,’ you think, casually tugging on the right sleeve of your tunic.

“Does that mean Princess Zelda is safe too? What a relief-” he begins to celebrate, but you quickly cut him off.

“No- she’s not, unfortunately,” you sigh, gaze downcast, “I traveled here on my own. We got separated during our investigation, but now I’m searching for her as well.”

Hoz nods, “I see… well, maybe I don’t, I am a little confused. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is continuing our search for Princess Zelda. I am relieved to see you come up here and help us out though. We needed some good news. The sheer amount of gloom has gotten overwhelming. Our work carries on, but we’ve been a bit dead in the water.”

Suddenly there’s a gasp. Another soldier of yours waves his arms before pointing and yelling, “c-captain! It’s Princess Zelda!”

You each whip your heads in the same direction. Squinting, you peer into the distance, following the arm of the soldier. Your gaze lands upon a broken part of the castle’s walls, a figure standing atop the crumbling stone. The figure looks almost exactly like Zelda, aside from the clothing- she wore a dress you had never seen the princess in before. But aside from that, it was her, you couldn’t have mistaken it for anyone else. Your heart soared.

“Princess Zelda! She’s safe!” Hoz cheers beside you.

The princess turns her head skyward, looking above her and spreading her arms out. Your look of excitement fades to one of concern and confusion as you watch her slowly begin to float into the air. Her body is surrounded by a golden light, not too dissimilar to what you had witnessed in the cavern beneath the castle. Before any of you can react she disappears in a flash, particles of golden light floating higher up into the sky.

“... oh,” you mutter, staring at the spot where the princess had once stood.

None of this made any sense.

Hoz sighs beside you, “wait… what… you saw that too, right captain? You saw Princess Zelda turn into light and… just… fly off? How strange… this… this is an emergency situation! Why would she leave without saying a word to us… We need to let Purah know about this as soon as possible! Considering what we just witnessed, I think it makes sense for us to withdraw, but it will take a bit. Please, you must tell Doctor Purah about what happened here as soon as possible.”

As the soldier had been speaking to you, you had begun to rock back and forth on your legs. You had already been exhausted during your entire trek up to the castle and the gatehouse, and it seemed that the fatigue had finally caught up to you. You blinked rapidly, vision darkening as you wobbled momentarily. Just as you began to fall forward, Hoz quickly moved to catch you before your head could make contact with the ground.

“Captain? Captain!” Hoz asked with concern, helping you sit down. He snapped his fingers in front of your face, shaking you out of your daze.

“Sorry… sorry, just-” you mumbled, struggling to keep your head up, “I’m… really tired. I can get back to Lookout Landing. I have, uh, a teleport.”

You sleepily tap the Purah Pad which you had hooked onto your belt.

“Are you sure you can make it back on your own?” Hoz replies, kneeling in front of you.

You manage to give him a shaky thumbs-up. Though he doesn’t seem to be fully confident in that response, he relents. You take the Purah Pad and idly tap a few buttons. You pull up the map and hover over the shrine in the castle town ruins. You knew it was smart to get access to it.

Once you tap the icon your body is filled with a familiar feeling. Blue light envelops you and you quickly start to feel lighter than air. Your form is whisked away and before you know it you’re standing atop the sandy entrance to the Shrine of Light.

On auto-pilot, your feet carry you back to the landing. Your entire body ached, all your muscles begging you to lay down and sleep. But you had a job to do, and you were stubborn, and you would not rest until you figured out whatever the hell was going on here in Hyrule. Because now it seemed to be so much more than just the princess’ disappearance. There were many pieces to this, like one giant puzzle, and you would be damned if you weren’t able to solve this.

The sun has begun to set as you push open the doors to the fortress's northern entrance with sore arms. You trudge up the stairs to the second level. Purah and Josha both turn to face you, clearly expecting new information from the search party.

As you open your mouth to speak you’re suddenly overcome by another heavy wave of exhaustion. You stumble forward. The last thing you hear as you collapse is gasping and a cry for help. Then the drowsiness overwhelms you, and everything goes blank.

…

There’s a hand atop your head, gently brushing down the side of your cheek. Your eyes slowly flutter open, and you glance around. You sharply inhale as you wake from your slumber, the scent of dust and stone filling your nose. When you raise your head your eyes make contact with a pair of golden yellow ones.

“S-Sidon?” you sputter, the confusion evident in your voice. Where were you? How had you both gotten here?

The Zora prince smiles at you, his hand caressing the side of your face. It’s embarrassing how you immediately lean into his touch. “Did you rest well? We should continue on our venture,” he murmurs before standing up straight.

“Venture…?” you repeat. You mimic his movements and stand as well. As you look around you realize that you’re surrounded by rock- you’re underground.

“Yes, our journey to find the princess,” Sidon responds, as if it’s obvious, “don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten, little one.”

You shake your head, “no, no I just… I don’t understand… how did we… when did we?”

You had just been in Lookout Landing. How were you beneath the castle? And when had Sidon joined you?

“So many questions, dearest” he chuckles, patting your head, “you must still be tired. But we must continue. Now, where is your sword? I feel we may need it the farther we travel.”

“My… sword…” you mumble, reaching behind you. However, your hand grasps at empty air. There is no sword on your back. When you pull your arm back and stare at your empty palm you’re shocked to see normal skin- not the fur of your replaced arm. “The Master Sword,” you mutter, “I… I lost it.”

“Lost it? You lost the darkness-sealing sword?” the prince repeats, and you feel a deep sense of shame at the incredulous expression he gives you. With a sigh, he continues, “no matter. We shall find another way to search for the princess.”

You allow him to guide you through the cave. Marching through tunnels and rooms which felt as if they should have been a familiar, but there was a haze. Not all of the details were fully there. As if there were gaps that needed to be filled in. Even when you looked up toward Sidon it seemed as if he was hazy as well. Not all there.

Your eyes stayed glued to the prince as you walked behind him, trying not to stumble over the uneven ground. Even in the dim light of the cave, his bright red scales stood out. Part of you was tempted to reach out to him, to hold his hand or grasp his arm. He was so close and yet he felt so far away.

“Sidon…” you whisper, voice shaky, “I’m confused. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in Zora’s Domain… with your people… with your… fiance.” Your heart aches as you utter the last word.

The Zora tilts his head, peering over his shoulder at you, “would you rather I have stayed behind? I would have thought you would have preferred me to be here?”

“No! No, I just-” you quickly respond, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I thought… I honestly wasn’t sure that I would see you again… after what I said, I…”

You trail off, your hand hovering just inches away from him. You desperately longed for him. To hold him, to talk to him, to be with him again. It wasn’t your choice to make, and you had told him to fulfill his duties to his people. Yet here you were, foolishly and selfishly wanting him once more.

The prince pauses and you quickly retract your hand. He turns to look down at you, his eyes flickering across your figure. “Dearest,” he murmurs, slowly approaching you, “my sweet Hylian, I-”

He gets cut off and a rush of air whips past you. The smell in the cavern suddenly turns foul, and you barely have time to meet the prince’s eyes again when he suddenly chokes, lurching forward. You watch in horror as a cloud of gloom bursts forth from his chest, it burns his body the same way it had burned your arm.

“Sidon!” you scream, reaching out to him. His eyes are wide with fear, and just as your fingers graze against his hand he disappears in a flash. You’re left alone in the cave, with no light and no weapon.

The cloud of gloom only grows bigger, wrapping around you with a vice. Your chest rises and falls quickly and you feel the smoke wrap around your throat. As you choke and gasp for ear there’s a thundering laughter that fills the cavern and causes the walls to shake. A haunting voice that mocks you, as the ground begins to crumble, and your lungs start to squeeze, and-

…

You wake up with a start, shaking as a cold chill runs down your back. You’re hyperventilating, heart drumming against your ribs, fingers gripping the blankets that covered you. Blankets? You look around in confusion, assessing your surroundings. You were in the laboratory of Lookout Landing.

Think. How had you gotten here? You went to the castle, you spoke with the search party, you saw Zelda, you’d meant to speak with Purah. And then you’d passed out from exhaustion. Purah must have brought you inside.

You drag a hand down your face once your heart calms down. ‘How embarrassing,’ you chastise yourself.

At the very least you did feel more energized. You’d needed the sleep, even if you’d only achieved it in a very roundabout way. You’re sure your body was grateful for the revitalization. You slide off of the mattress and move across the room, redressing yourself in a new tunic. Just as you find the mirror to look at yourself, the door swings open.

“Oh! Thank goodness you’re awake,” Purah beams as she walks inside. She quickly rushes over to you, her heels clicking against the floor. She fusses over you, brushing dust off of your shoulders and grabbing your chin to look at your face as she says, “we were all so worried! If I’d known how tired you were I wouldn’t have sent you to the castle so soon, and-”

You cut off her rambling with a smile, grabbing her shoulders to soothe her. “Purah, I’m alright,” you say with a smile, “but thank you for taking care of me. How long was I asleep?”

“Ah, not too long,” she answers, letting go of you in turn, “about half a day. It’s morning now if you look outside.”

“I see,” you mumble. Although, now that you’ve asked that question, it makes you remember that there was another piece of critical information you hadn’t discussed yet. “Purah… how long has it been since Zelda and I went beneath the castle?”

‘How long was I missing? How long was I stuck on the sky island?’

You can see the hesitation in the scientist before she answers. Her eyes flicker away from you and her grin drops momentarily. “It’s… it’s been about two and a half weeks,” she answers, “as far as I know, the entire kingdom is aware of your disappearance. The news had time to spread.”

A shaky breath escapes you as you nod, covering your mouth with your hand and looking down toward the ground. The entirety of Hyrule knew. You assume it was the newspaper that had informed everyone. Your mind wanders to a certain Zora. How had Sidon reacted to the news, you wonder. Concern? Disinterest?

There’s a twist in your stomach and you grimace. Hunger pains. Purah seems to sense this and she perks up.

“The chefs have already started cooking today,” she offers, “breakfast should be ready in the shelter. Why don’t you go and eat something? Then we can discuss what comes next.”

“And what might that be?” you respond curiously.

“The skyview tower, the chasms,” she answers, counting them off on her hand, “and… the regional phenomena.”

‘Regional phenomena huh… that can’t be anything good.’

~~~ <> ~~~

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[findmeinthefallair]

Imagine leaving the country + culture you've tried to integrate into (as someone queer and neurodivergent) for three decades, for a short vacation. And feeling the last few paper-thin roots you tried to plant in said culture, crumble to dust during the vacation.

When you come back from the vacation, your fears are confirmed. You don't feel part of the culture anymore. Whatever ties you had with it have slipped away for good.

You peer through a thick transluscent glass wall, watching how people around you have planted roots and been on their way in their relationships and study/work in their own cultures. Pushing as hard as you can against said glass wall, to attempt connecting with the world and people, is hardly paying off. Most people here don't even think about the queer community or neurodiversity as things that exist. Including the hiring managers for regular-paying jobs who rejected you after the interviews you've been to.

And the person you live with is doing just fine in said culture, having gaming calls multiple times a week with two different gaming friend groups. The sound of them having fun makes the loneliness so much worse, so much more unbearable.

Any friends you have here locally aren't the type to want to meet regularly at all, or have long phone calls with. They engrossed in their jobs or relationships. People at the meetup groups you've tried attending aren't that sort either. You're so tired from trying so so many times. Those days have been lost, since you took the risk to leave church in 2020. You deeply regret dedicating so much time to church, and somehow not being bold enough to get out there in your 20s.

You start to write a suicide note, but the only things you've put in there so far are just the passwords for your laptop, phone and important apps/accounts. You take it as far as that for now, in case. It brings you a bit of peace that nothing else has so far.

You start peering outside at the balcony of your 23rd storey apartment, a few times per day, thinking how this could all go away if you're brave enough for half a minute if you put your mind to jumping. Worst are the distressing images you start having in your mind of carrying out the suicide plans that have formed. You have earned extremely little income, so little that a bank employee the other week had to do a double take and ask you to confirm a second time, when viewing your last annual income total. You have failed to launch your career twice, are not attractive to anyone here, and aren't the first person anyone would love to intimately text to share about what happened during their day. You've had to delete Google Maps from your phone as a safety measure because you've started looking up places where people such as hikers have died, tempted to make one last drive to such locations.

When you've called crisis helplines, the good ones are so occupied that your call is rejected, and with the remaining ones, the volunteer keeps asking you to repeat yourself because the language barrier is evident enough.

You, as a trained therapist yourself, start to be therapy-resistant (because all you need, really, is regular enough companionship in person or over a voice call) and it terrifies and confuses you. But you're a trained therapist who succumbed to neurodivergent burnout and immense minority stress in a culture that doesn't safeguard or vouch for the queer and the neurodivergent. Your licence to practice as a therapist expires, and you don't renew it.

Staying in existence saps away at the energy of every insanity-ridden fiber of your body: in order to be brave. The system and norms and your brain all scream out how much of a failure you are. You spend most of each day napping or sleeping.

You feel so much frustration because your family has actually lived in Western cultures, but moved back here because of financial instability combined with pressure from extended family. You have arrived at this nowhere place because they raised you with a blend of West and East that has led to you being neither-here-nor-there in terms of cultural identity.

Someone offers to fund you to do an MBA course in Australia, the chance to begin a new life in early 2025. The money left from the critical illness fund from last year's cancer hospitalization and surgeries..isn't enough for both the MBA's tuition fees AND accommodation while there. But you'd rather die than take someone else's money to start anew. You're ashamed of yourself. It might be your brain lying to you, but you're terrified to start over like that because maybe you'll feel EVEN more behind that you already do. Your hopes of getting away from family and the old life in order to be self-sustaining...has absolutely not worked out by age 31, it's a massive dream that has fallen through terribly.

How you'd love to just leave everything behind because at least I can have control over that. Instead of not knowing how each passing and excruciating coming decade is gonna pan out. You know how much of a killer loneliness is.

That's been me since mid-ish June. I don't know how the same person who holds enough apparent light to create cool stuff in fandom, also holds a darkness so tremendous that it keeps threatening to kill me.

But...I'd like to keep trying. Even it's as if someone has taken an axe to my skull and soul and split them in half.

Idk if the worst of it is over, I've slept for around 12 hours in the past three days. Idk if that was my brain and body caving in to process an immeasurable mountain of grief.

But I'd like to keep trying since a friend gifted me a game on Steam, others have sent me asks to remind me what I innately have (even if a hiring manager or potential date doesn't see that in me), I called another friend who started to cry on call coz she's worried I might die, and also..there's still a summer in the UK and fall in the US to experience..and I still think of the stuff I technically *could* make for the fandom..I know I have people rooting for me, idk, maybe it can be enough to shoulder this horrendous burden of existing as me.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Seventeen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Simon is secretly a big sap, confessions are made and Charlotte has some… fun with Simon  >:)

Nine Inch Nails - I Would For You

What a pathetic string of words

Just leave them lying on the floor

The warning posted on the door

Not over here, not anymore

There was a place that could have been

Step over all that used to be

Since you have let yourself come in

Some things I'd rather you not see

See, I keep lying to myself

Don't know what else there is to do

If I could be somebody else

Well, I think I would for you

Didn't it seem like something more?

So long, I can't remember when

All this has happened all before

And this will happen all again

And I only have myself to blame

And I only have myself to blame

See, I keep lying to myself

Don't know what else there is to do

If I could be somebody else

Well, I think I would for you

See, I keep lying to myself

Don't know what else there is to do

If I could be somebody else

Well, I think I would for you

There’s a blissful moment just before you wake up where you aren't quite asleep but you're not awake either. It's this quiet space, a liminal space in your mind where you just linger for a while before you fully wake up. Simon felt like he was suspended in time and space, enjoying the feeling of the best kind of blankness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware it was later than he usually got up, yet he felt no urgency to force himself to wake fully. Had he booked the day off? Was it weekend? He couldn't tell you, couldn't fucking remember. 

A warm tingle started in his toes and swept up his entire body, making him hum softly in delight. He was unsure what the feeling was, yet he found himself wanting more of it. It happened again but it felt more intense, his stomach tightening as it ripped through his entire being and his eyes flew open with a ragged moan. He was dazed and confused, eyes frantic and wide as they darted around the room, only to find his girl between his legs, sucking on his very hard cock. Another needy moan left him as he watched her, feeling vulnerable in his half asleep state. She let his cock slip from her mouth with a pop, those blue eyes scanning his face carefully.

“Good morning, handsome,” she smiled, not giving him a chance to reply before she dove right back in and took him all the way in until he hit the back of her throat. 

A choked gasp tore from him, his hand flying to her head and holding her there for a moment as she spasmed around him. He released her and she went back to bobbing her head up and down, her soft, warm, velvety mouth massaging his cock for all it was worth and he couldn't hang on to save his life, not when she’d cornered him in the dazed state he was in. 

“That's it, just like that,” he moaned roughly, back arching as the pleasure increased at a rapid rate. She looked beautiful with her hair all mussed from sleep, her hazy blue eyes on him as she sucked on his cock like she was hungry for it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling back into his head as he exploded, spilling himself right down her eager throat. 

The room was spinning and he couldn't get his bearings, he felt like he’d been washed out to sea and his body was shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. He started to come back down to earth when she lay beside him, a bright smile on her face as she tentatively touched his cheek, turning his head to her. He leaned into the touch, seeking her out, needing her. She seemed to sense his neediness and hooked her leg over him, pulling him closer as their bodies entwined.

“Happy birthday, Si,” she beamed and his heart softened, the world finally righting itself as he looked at her. It was his birthday, that was why he was off. Didn't feel much different now being 24.

“Thanks, love,” he replied with a lazy smile, reaching out and smoothing her hair away from her face. 

“What d’you want for breakfast?” she asked, allowing her hand to trail over his face as he’d once done to her, tracing over every feature with a featherlight touch. 

“Not fussed,” he shrugged, not really wanting her to get out of bed. 

He hadn't really planned anything for his birthday, he never really bothered with it much to the chagrin of Tommy and his mum. Lottie hadn't had any of it though, telling him that even if they just stayed home, she fully planned to celebrate him. It touched him enough that he'd allowed her to plan what she wanted but he wasn't sure if he'd given her too much power. She informed him the night before that they'd be going to a club later on but she was being all hush hush about most of it and he was unsure why. For the most part though, the day would be spent at home with her as per his request and she seemed content with that. 

“Come on, babe, pick,” she pouted and his heart jumped erratically at her words. Babe, that was a new one. He'd never been called babe before, didn't think he'd like it much and yet here he was, butterflies making his stomach feel like it might fall out of his arse. 

“Wouldn't say no to some bacon and eggs,” he murmured softly, eyes affectionately soft as he looked at her little proud smile that she'd got him to answer her question. 

She sat up and he watched, feeling forlorn that she wouldn't be laying with him anymore, placated for a moment as she leaned down and placed a sweet kiss to his lips. She hopped off the bed and he went to grab her, just missing her by a millimetre. 

“I didn't get to return the favour,” he frowned as it suddenly dawned on him. 

“You don't need to. It's your birthday and I wanna take care of you,” she replied, smiling at him as she pulled his shirt off the floor over her head.

“Lottie…” he started, fully intent on having to give her the lecture once again about how him ‘taking care’ of her wasn't a burden to him. In fact, he very much enjoyed it. 

“Simon,” she replied, using the same tone with a mock stern impression of him that made his eyes narrow. “I'm fine, you can touch me all you want after breakfast but I'm feeding you, so get over it,” she cocked a brow at him and he found himself slightly speechless by her sass, watching as she left the room and left him there alone. He had half a mind to put her over his knee and show her just what that attitude got her. 

Having no use in laying in bed alone, he heaved himself up, moving to get into some boxers and sweatpants. He left himself shirtless, knowing his girl liked it and wanting to give her something to look at. He caught his reflection on the mirror on the wall and he ran a hand through his hair. It was getting a bit longer and he knew he'd need to cut it again soon. Didn't half love it when she tugged on it though when he was devouring her sweet cunt. He moved out of the room, seeing her in the kitchen area humming to herself as she cooked. He allowed himself to stand in the doorway and just admire her for a moment. He was sure she was humming a Placebo song but he wasn't sure which one and she danced to her own humming, turning the bacon in the pan. He loved watching her like this, unguarded and utterly beautiful, when she didn't know he was watching. He crept up behind her, sneaking his arms around her and making her yelp. 

“Jesus fucking… you need a bell!” She chided, sagging against him as a hand went over her chest like she was about ready to have a heart attack. He chuckled, nuzzling her neck and inhaling her scent deeply. 

“Sorry, love,” he mumbled against her skin before kissing it, making her squirm against him. 

“You don't sound too sorry,” she pouted, a whine leaving her lips when he kept planting slow and wet kisses to the side of her neck. He laved at the skin with his tongue, a growl rumbling in his chest at something primal in him, something tugging at him to fuck her raw, make her his over and over.

“Simon,” she whined again, trying to wriggle from his grasp but he held her still. 

“Thought it was my birthday,” he knew he was playing dirty with his words but he was fucking hard again already and he wanted her. She scoffed, turning her head to send him a glare and he flashed her a grin. 

“I know what you're up to, Sergeant Riley and it won't work. I've got plans for you later so I suggest saving yourself,’ she muttered. He really wanted her but now he was well and truly intrigued. 

“Plans?” He asked, roguish smile tugging at his lips as a myriad of thoughts ran through his head at a rapid rate. 

“Yep,” she smirked, popping the p loudly. “I wanna try something… new. But it's a surprise, so behave yourself and sit down,” she pointed with the spatula to the dining table and he sighed, nodding like the obedient little dog he was. Damn his curiosity. 

Breakfast was delicious and he devoured it with gusto, taking note of her little smile as she kept glancing at him. She only had bacon, not as hungry as him it seemed and she hopped out of her seat when she finished before him. He watched her go into the bedroom curiously as he finished his food and then she came bounding back in. She plonked into the seat beside him, a bright smile firmly in place as she put a wrapped present on the dining table. He blinked at it for a moment as if he'd never seen such a thing, he hadn't really considered she'd get him something. 

“You didn't have to, love,” he murmured, glancing from the present to her. She tilted her head with such a condescending look on her face. He figured she felt smug at what she was about to say given the fact he was the one always saying it to her. 

“I wanted to. Now shut up and open it,” she snorted, pushing it closer to him. She was clearly excited but there was a nervous energy about her that he picked up on, noticing how she was nibbling her lower lip. 

He tore open the plain blue wrapping paper, brows rising and eyes widening a little at the box he found underneath it. He didn't need to open it to know what item lay inside, the name Cold Steel written on the box. Some kind of knife. He opened the box and his breathing felt like it ceased altogether. It was the AK-47 field knife and it was one he'd had his eye on for a bit. He got it out of the box, weighing it into his hand before twirling it expertly. Fuck, it felt good and he knew it would make a good addition to his collection. 

“Is it… is it okay? I wasn't quite sure what knife to get you but I figured a tactical one would be good,” she rambled anxiously and he tore his eyes away from the knife, landing on the pretty girl in front of him. Truth be told, she was the best gift he could ever ask for and he never needed another thing in his life. He did love the knife though and it warmed his heart that she knew him so well that her choice had been one from his own personal wish list. 

“It's perfect, sweetheart… You're perfect,” he breathed, raw honesty in his voice as he reached out and stroked her cheek. She flushed furiously, ducking her head with a shy smile. 

“No one's perfect, Simon,” she muttered shyly and he gripped her chin, making her look back up at him. 

“I beg to differ,” he smirked, raising a brow at her. She huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“If anyone’s perfect here, it’s certainly not me,” she murmured, giving him an obvious once over that had his ears burning. 

She got up to grab the dishes but he stopped her, arms around her as he pulled her onto his lap sideways. She laughed lightly as her arm went around his neck to steady herself and he just smiled up at her. He pulled her in for a kiss, taking his time as his tongue languidly toyed with hers. She smoothed a hand over his chest and he moaned softly, a hand digging into her thigh greedily. She pulled away with an amused grin. 

“Stop trying to seduce me, I told you to wait,” she smirked, tapping him on the nose before she jumped up and scooped up the plates. 

The day seemed to fly by despite doing nothing but snuggling on the couch together like he wanted. It had been the most relaxed and calming birthday he’d ever had and it had been nice to just take a step back and do nothing for once. He’d mentioned he fancied a curry so they wound up getting Indian for tea, a new place that was now his new favourite and his dupiaza was fucking delicious. When 7 pm rolled around, Charlotte glanced at the clock before peeling herself away from him.

“I’m gonna start getting ready. It's a nice place by the looks of it, found it on the internet,” she started, glancing him over and looking deep in thought. He wondered why she'd picked somewhere other than the usual pub they went to. He wasn't typically a club person if he was honest but she obviously picked it for a reason. 

“Your black jeans should be good… maybe a nice shirt or something,” she mused and he realised it must be a nice place if he needed to wear a shirt. 

“Alright, you get ready first, it won’t take me long,” he murmured, curious as to what she planned to wear and where the fuck they were going. She nodded, pecking him on the lips before prancing off to the bedroom. 

He lounged for a little longer, watching TV as he waited for her to come back. He didn't need to do his hair and he certainly didn't plan on wearing make up, so he only really needed to get his clothes on. He’d be ready in like 5 minutes. The bedroom door opened and he glanced at her, doing a double take as his eyes almost bugged out of his head. If he was in a cartoon, his jaw might have been on the floor. There wasn't an inch of her the black dress wasn't hugging tightly and it was so short that he almost marched her back to the bedroom and demanded she put pants on. He didn't though, he wasn't about to be a possessive arsehole who told her what she could and couldn't wear. Besides, he very much liked the view. He just hoped no one else fucking did. 

“What do you think?” she asked, twirling with a pretty smile on her face. She’d done her make up all pretty, smokey eyes making them stand out more and brown lipstick on her pouty lips. Her wavy hair was half up in some kind of braid, the rest flowing past her shoulders. Combined with the tiniest black dress in the world and some black wedges, she was certainly a sight.

“Look divine, sweetheart,” he hummed, moving to stand and walk over to where she stood blushing. 

He still towered over her even with the heels and she blinked those long, dark lashes up at him, making his stomach feel all funny. He took a moment, his dark eyes really taking her in and he couldn't believe he’d landed a girl like her, couldn't quite understand what she saw in him. He wanted to kiss her but didn't want to ruin her makeup so he settled on kissing her cheek, making her beam a smile at him. 

“I’ll go get ready, won’t be long,” he said before slipping off into the bedroom. 

He kept to his word, being ready in 4 minutes, black shirt, black jeans and his boots on. He’d splashed a bit of his cologne on for good measure and that was the extent of his grooming. His curiosity over where they were going was burning in him as he went back into the living area and he got a wolf whistle for the first time ever in his life. He hated how he blushed like a little girl when he snorted at her.

“Fuck off,” he muttered, making her laugh as she walked over to him. He had no idea how she could walk in the heels she was in. He'd never actually seen her in heels before when he thought about it, always those Docs she seemed to live in. 

“Ready?” she asked eagerly, now in her leather jacket too. Fuckin’ hell, he wanted to bend her over and fuck her into next week, but he remembered her promise of plans later on. 

“Ready,” he nodded, not bothering with a jacket of his own. It wasn't too cold despite it being the start of November and he always ran a bit hot. She took his hand, lacing their fingers together before they both left and got into the elevator.

She told the taxi driver where to go and he wound up in a part of town he’d never been before. They got out and she led him down the street, other people milling about and enjoying the night. The clubs looked a little more upscale, certainly not a place a man like him would go to. He kept quiet, trying to figure out just why they were coming here and when she stopped outside a sleek looking club, he saw the purple neon sign over the door reading ‘Pleasure Paradox’. 

His brows raised and he allowed her to guide him to the door, two massive bouncers giving them a once over before nodding and allowing them entry. He wasn't sure what he’d expected when she said she was taking him to a club but it sure as shit wasn't this. The first thing he noticed were the naked dancers on stage, dancing a pole and somehow making it look elegant and not cheap like the place he’d been to for Tommy's bachelor party. Everything was black, purple and silver, looking high end and a lot of the men in full blown suits. 

He felt a little out of place even in his nice jeans and shirt. It didn't escape him how some people were blatantly getting it on in the booths and he glanced at Lottie to see if she noticed, but she seemed dead set on finding the bar. He got dragged along by his hand until she stopped, waiting patiently to be served as the bartender went around tending to people.

“Lottie…” he murmured carefully, drawing her attention and making her nod. “A sex club?” he asked quietly, not wanting to offend anyone that wanted to be here. 

He knew they got up to all sorts of kinky shit but this felt a bit weird, like something they should have discussed beforehand and she’d always been good at that sort of shit. She never sprang shit on him, always wanted the green light to go ahead, especially after learning of his inexperience. This whole thing just rubbed him the wrong way and he wasn't sure why. She laughed, the sound slightly nervous as a blush crept up her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something when this swanky wanker in a black and red suit sidled up to her, far too close for Simon’s comfort, especially when he was still holding her fucking hand, making it obvious she was with him.

“What are you two having to drink?” he asked and when he settled a hand on Lottie’s shoulder, Simon’s vision almost went black. He clenched his jaw so tight that his teeth started to ache, his eyes zeroed in on the hand on his girl.

“Oh… uh…” Charlotte turned to him, her eyes pleading like she was unsure what to say and he hated, no, fucking loathed the fact he was so soft for her that he went along with whatever bullshit she was pulling on him. 

“Bourbon,” he grit out and the man nodded, waving over the bartender as he looked at Lottie questioningly. The man must be someone important since the bartender ignored all the others who had been waiting longer and went straight for Mr Prick.

“I don't know what to have, maybe one of the cocktails?” she sounded so unsure of herself and he was left once again baffled why she was even here. 

“You seem like a Cosmopolitan kind of girl,” the man smirked, giving the bartender the order. It took less than a minute and a glass was being shoved in his hand by the man who was far too touchy for his own good. 

“Benedict,” he grinned with a tip of his head and of fucking course the twat was called Benedict. The fuckers full name was probably something pretentious like Benedict Montgomery the fucking third. 

“I’m Charlotte, this is Simon,” Lottie flashed the man a smile that had Simon’s blood suddenly feel like lava running through his veins. His hand was still holding hers in a death grip, drink in the other and he took a large gulp of it, tugging her a little closer possessively. The man seemed to notice the move, eyeing Simon’s hand around Lottie’s and then he looked back at Simon with a patronising smile.

“First time swingers then?” he asked wryly and Simon blinked dumbly at him. 

Swingers. This was a fucking swingers club. There was something that felt akin to betrayal that shot through him violently as his eyes darted to Charlotte but she’d looked over at the booths across the room and he couldn't see her face. Was she avoiding him?

“I wouldn't mind sharing her with you,” the man smirked smoothly and Simon heard ringing in his ears. 

He clutched his glass so hard he thought it might shatter in his hands and when Charlotte laughed it only made it worse. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He wanted to deck the fucker, punch all of his perfectly straight teeth right out of his mouth. He didn't though. This club was clearly different, the man was just going along with it. He was the odd one out here and for a moment, he wondered why the hell Charlotte had brought him here. 

He felt sick as he slammed his glass down, letting go of her hand and storming away from them as he weaved through the sea of bodies. He sucked in a greedy lung full of air when he got outside but his feet didn't stop. The urge to get as far away as possible burrowed deep into his skin. He wasn't used to this feeling, this weird burning in his chest that scorched him from the inside out.  

“Simon! Simon, wait!” She called after him. He stopped, unable to keep going at her plea, but he didn't turn around. His whole body was held taut like a string about to snap, his hands clenched to fists by his side as he took in a shaky breath. 

“The fuck was this then? Am I not enough for you now?” He growled harshly as he turned around. He really couldn't help the burning insecurity and betrayal he was feeling at the idea she wasn't happy with him anymore, that she needed to bring in someone else. Hurt flashed across her face making her look as though he'd just struck her. 

“What? No! I-I didn't even…” she tripped over her words and something stabbed him deep in the chest when her lower lip trembled, her eyes glazing over with tears. 

“I didn't know the club was like that. I just… I wanted to bring you ‘cause of the dancers, I thought you'd like it. I never meant for that to happen, that wasn't what I wanted,” she blurted, her voice wobbling as she wiped her eyes furiously. It made the makeup smudge around her eyes and guilt shot through him like a 7.62mm bullet. What a right bastard he was to make her cry like this, to hurt her fragile feelings. He believed her too, believed she hadn't brought him here to try and bring someone else into their bedroom because he could see the sincerity all over her face. But then her words replayed in his brain and he frowned. 

“Why would you think I'd wanna see the dancers?” He asked her, watching how her cheeks flushed as she looked away. She wrapped her arms around herself in the way she did when she was trying to distance herself. His frown deepened as he took a few steps towards her. 

“I… I don't know. They're… different… New and exciting, I guess. I thought you'd like it, they're pretty,” she murmured quietly. He blinked at her, his chest feeling heavier by the second as he took in her demeanour. He’d seen her look self conscious a fair few times, no doubt a result of her upbringing and then her twat of an ex, but this was different. She looked like a wilting flower and it physically hurt him.

“New and excitin’? You think that's what I want?” he asked carefully, his voice thick as his throat constricted. She opened her mouth before snapping it shut again, a distraught look crossing her face.

“I don’t want you to get bored of me,” she admitted quietly, her eyes full of pain and her cheeks pink. It felt like his chest caved in and he tilted his head as he gave her an incredulous look.

“Why the fuck would I get bored of you, love?” he asked with a shake of his head. 

He tried to keep his voice soft because the poor girl looked ready to shatter at a moment's notice. He watched it happen right before his eyes as she looked down, a small sob ripping from her lips that broke his black heart in two. He wasted no time in stepping into her space, cupping those pretty cheeks that were stained with her tears and makeup. He tilted her face to look at him and she scrunched her face up as more tears fell, looking like she’d just been shivved.

“Everyone gets bored of me, Simon. Ethan, Jessica, even my mum and dad. Everyone reaches a point where they just… don’t care anymore. And I don’t… I don’t want that to happen with you,” she cried softly and he wrapped his arms around her, caging her against his chest as he stroked the back of her head. 

His poor sweet girl had been through far too much bullshit for the sweet little thing she was. Hearing the venom that was poisoning her mind made him feel physically sick, not knowing how long those thoughts had been burrowing in her mind like a fucking parasite. He tried to figure out an appropriate response in his head, not wanting to come out with something that would make the situation worse. She was fragile right now, that much was clear and it was his job to glue her back together. Words were hard for a man like him, always had been, so he decided to show her something instead.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go back home, need to show you somethin’,” he murmured. She blinked her tearful eyes at him looking confused but she nodded. Maybe she was grateful to get away from prying eyes in the street or away from the damn club that started all this bullshit, but he was glad she didn't ask questions. 

Getting the taxi back, Simon felt nerves bloom in his belly at what he was about to do. He’d do it for her. Do it because she needed reassurance, do it because she needed him and there wasn't a world where he wouldn’t do whatever she needed of him. He led her inside their place, shutting the door behind her. She kicked off her heels, a morose look on her face that reminded him of the day they met. 

This wasn't exactly how he thought his relaxing birthday would go but something in him told him this was a long time coming and what he was about to do really needed to happen. He moved behind her, gently taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hook by the door. 

“Sit down, yeah,” he gestured with his head to the sofa and she complied, padding over and slumping down. He looked at her for a moment before wandering into their room, crouching beside the bed before pulling out a shoe box. He got back up and wandered out to the living area, moving to sit next to her. Even with makeup smeared around her red rimmed eyes she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. Her blue hues darted to the box in his hands and he set it on her knee, making her confusion grow.

“Open it,” he urged, trying to ignore the huge spike of fear that shot through him at his own words. He was about to make himself the most vulnerable he’d ever been and it fucking terrified him. 

She looked at him warily for a second before prying the lid open and setting it on her other side on the couch. She blinked at the contents before starting to pull some things out to look at. The first thing was a receipt for the stuffed dinosaur he’d gotten her from the museum. The next was the movie tickets from when they went to see Final Destination 3. Every receipt from Cafe Metro where she’d scribbled a little note on them for him, every letter she’d written him when he was deployed, a picture of the pair of them with Tommy and Beth from Beth’s birthday, a picture of her and his mum in his mum’s garden as they both planted some flowers. She pulled out the strip of pictures they’d had done in a photo booth, one of which he’d cut off and put in his wallet, wanting to carry it with him wherever he went. The last thing she pulled out from the very bottom was the bus tickets dated from the night they met. Her eyes snapped to him, glassy and shining in the light.

“You kept all this?” she asked incredulously, her eyes searching his face before she shoved everything back in the box. He felt the blush dusting his cheeks but he tried to ignore it.

“I did… Kept it ‘cause… ‘cause I love you, Lottie,” he admitted, his voice wavering as he uttered those words he’d held in for so long. 

He thought he’d broken her for a long moment as she stared at him without blinking. Started to worry him, started to think he’d fucked it all up by telling her, but then a blinding smile overtook her face and he didn't think he’d ever seen her so radiant. Gone was all the earlier sadness, all the self doubt, in its place was pure happiness that made him feel like a grenade had gone off in his chest and left nothing in its wake. 

“You love me?” she asked hopefully, wide eyes sparkling at him. 

“I do. Have for a long time,” he breathed, feeling terrified and relieved all at once now it was out in the open. “And I’m not expectin’ you to say it back, that's not why I said it. I just… you got no need to worry about me gettin’ bored of you, Charlotte. You're… everythin’ to me. You’re my reason to exist, my fuckin’ oxygen. I’d never get bored of you for as long as I’m still walkin’ the earth,” he implored, baring his bloody and beating heart for her, on his knees begging her not to crush it. 

The box got plonked on the floor and then she was on him, on his lap as her lips claimed his with such desperation it made his head spin. He kissed her back hungrily, hands gripping her hips as she pressed herself impossibly close to him. When she pulled away, she was still smiling and he knew that this was all he wanted in life. He didn't care about anything else, all he wanted was her. 

“I love you too,” she smiled and it was his turn to stare unblinking for a moment. He thought maybe he’d heard wrong, but then she gripped his cheeks, radiant smile still painted on her perfect lips. “I’ve loved you for ages but I was scared of saying it. Thought you’d run off,” she snorted with a blush and his whole body sagged in relief.

“Guess we’re both fuckin’ idiots then,” he replied and she laughed, moving to press her face in his neck, nuzzling him. 

He sighed in content, a blazing warmth starting in his chest and warming up every crevice of his being. She loved him back, had done for a while. He couldn't even place the emotion he was feeling right now, a happiness he’d never quite experienced before. He held her tightly, hand splayed on her back to keep her close as he pressed his nose to her hair. 

He felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders now. He’d said it and she’d said it back. He didn't have to bottle it up and keep it to himself anymore, he could tell her every time he got the fucking urge, which was all the fucking time, and it wouldn’t be a problem. She loved him. For some reason unknown to man, Charlotte loved the mess that was Simon Riley and he couldn’t be fucking happier about it. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” she murmured against his neck and his fingers rubbed her scalp.

“Didn’t ruin anythin’, love,” he replied, using the grip on her hair to move her face, making her look at him. “But… someone did say they had plans for me,” he raised a brow with a smirk, watching the way her eyes lit up with excitement and he suddenly wondered just what he was getting himself into. 

“I did. Come on,” she grinned, far too eager for his liking but he allowed her to get up and take his hand. 

He followed her to the bedroom, watching as she tugged her tiny dress off and then her underwear. He took his own clothes off, figuring he might as well save her a job and waited to see what she wanted him to do,

“Will you lay down for me?” she asked sweetly, fluttering her lashes and he was powerless to resist her. He lay on his back, relaxing, his eyes lazily watching as she crouched beside the bed and rummaged in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. She stood back up with a triumphant smile, handcuffs in her hands. He’d enjoyed using them last time and he smirked to himself, about to move so she could lay down instead and he could cuff her. Imagine his surprise when she shoved him back down, kneeling between his legs and giving him a wicked grin. It clicked then and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

“You wanna cuff me?” he asked slowly, the dominant animal he had inside of him snarling at the prospect. Yet the cheeky and hopeful look on her face made him curious to try it, to see what it would be like to have her in control for once. 

“Only if you're okay with it,” she murmured and he nodded, making her smile. 

“I’m up to try it,” he shrugged and she leaned over him with the cuffs, encircling one of his wrists with them. Her delectable tits were right in his face and his free hand came to grab one, his mouth wrapping around her nipple and suckling on it greedily and making her gasp.

“Simon!” she chided with a giggle, squirming against him in a way that felt divine. God, it wouldn't take much to take the power back, would it? She was always so pliable for him. 

He let her go with a dark smirk, allowing her to take his other hand and cuff him to the headboard. She jerked on them a little and then hummed, seemingly satisfied with his restraints. She moved back to kneel between his legs, tilting her head as she observed him. Made his cock twitch the way her eyes devoured the sight of him all trussed up for her, a predatory gleam in her blue eyes. His breathing hitched when her soft hands smoothed up the inside of his thighs and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. 

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” she purred and maybe those words should have embarrassed him but he moaned instead, cock jumping against his stomach as something dark flashed behind his eyes. He nodded and she tutted at him, moving to hover over him as she bit her lip with a grin.

“Use your words,” she ordered and why did that make his dick ache so badly?

“Yes,” he breathed softly and her grin turned into something almost sinister.

“You can do better than that, Simon,” she raised a brow.

“I’ll be a good boy,” he murmured and she looked like she might just purr in delight at his words. Her lips claimed his demandingly and he surrendered to her, enjoying having her take the reins. 

When she pulled away, her teeth nipped at his lower lip and he groaned, fire spreading over him as she tugged it before letting it go. She started kissing down his jaw and then his neck and he titled his head, soft moans leaving his lips as he revelled in her attention. His hands instinctively went to grab her as he always did but instead he couldn't move them, the metal clinking against the headboard as he tried and a growl rumbled in his chest at the spark of frustration. He really wanted to touch her. 

She chuckled against his neck before sucking on it harshly and he knew it would leave a mark. A long drawn out moan left him and he arched up, wanting to feel her cunt that he knew would be dripping for him but she moved away every time he tried, denying him of the friction he was badly craving. Her kisses moved down to his chest, giving him a cheeky bite every now and then and by the time she got to his stomach, he was a writhing mess. He’d never been teased before, this whole thing was new but he was on the brink of insanity with how much he ached for her. She hadn't touched his cock once. 

“Charlotte…” his brows furrowed, hips bucking and finding nothing but air to greet him. 

“You need something?” she asked mischievously, sucking a hickey just above his hip bone and drawing another ragged moan from him. 

“I need you,” he bit out, starting to get agitated with being kept away from her touch. She looked up at him through her lashes, kissing his stomach just next to his cock, so close he felt her breath against it and he whimpered, something he’d deny until the day he died. 

“Is that how you ask for something like a good boy?” she asked roughly and he felt so frustrated that he was sure he was about to cry. Is this how she felt when he teased her? Fuckin’ hell, it was torture yet he didn't want it to end.

“Please. Please fuckin’ touch me,” he begged, too far gone to feel ashamed at the notion. The grin she gave him was something he’d never seen on her face but he didn't have time to think about how his angel had turned into a villain because then she was grasping his cock in her hand. Even the small contact made a raw moan leave his lips and he felt ready to go off at a moment's notice.

“Don’t cum, not until I tell you to,” she demanded, eyes narrowed as if she could read his mind and he nodded, lungs unable to get air properly. 

His eyes were glued to her, watching as she leaned down and licked a thick stripe up his cock and fuck did it feel good. The strangled noise he made told her as much too. She took him into her mouth and his head fell back, moaning wantonly as he started thrusting up into her mouth. She didn't like that, moving off him and giving him a firm look. 

“Do you want me to touch you or not?” she asked him as if she was scolding a child. His cheeks flushed and he made a pained noise, his hands tugging on his cuffs. She made no move to touch him, still giving him that stony glare and his cock was throbbing.

“Yes… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he whispered in a raw voice and she smirked, moving to crawl over him and he could almost taste the impending relief. He half expected her to tease him more, to withhold her precious pussy from him, so he was more than pleasantly surprised when she lined him up and sunk down onto him without preamble. The noise he made was embarrassing and the cuffs strained against the headboard as he desperately tried to reach out and touch her. 

She rested her hands on his firm chest as she started to move up and down. He was so worked up that he knew he wouldn't last long yet worried what she’d do if he came without her permission. That and he didn't like to cum before her but he could do little about it when he was restrained like this. She didn't waste time, didn't take it slow, didn't tease him. She started bouncing on his cock with such force, her tits were jumping up and down and he was helpless to lay there and make noises like an animal in mating season. 

Her own moans were needy and he knew she’d probably teased herself with what she’d done to him, getting off on bossing him about. He knew because that's exactly how he felt when he was in control. He took a chance by rutting up into her but she seemed too into her own pleasure to chide him for it and he took the tiny slither of control she was allowing him, using it to fuck her harder, deeper. 

Her face was a picture and he was enraptured. Her mouth open as she moaned, eyes screwed shut as she chased her own pleasure, used his body to get off. It didn't take much longer before she was gasping, squirming on his cock as she came hard. He could barely breathe, his moans raw and painful as he tried his best not to spill his load into her when her cunt milked him so well.

“Lottie, please. I can’t- I need-” he gasped desperately and she nodded, fighting through her own pleasure that had temporarily blinded her as she picked up her pace bouncing on his cock.

“You can cum. Want you to fill me up,” her sinful words pushed him right over the edge and he came with a roar, vision going white for a moment as he gave her every drop he had. 

He felt weightless, like his body was gone and he was nothing but a puddle. Felt like there was nothing left of him at all. He couldn't open his eyes, his high wrapping around him like a snake. He felt the cuffs release, the sensation of his arms finally coming back to him as she gently put them by his sides. He opened his eyes, lazily looking at her through his hazy mind. She was radiant as she looked him over, concern shining behind those pretty blue eyes and when he smiled at her, she relaxed infinitely. He grabbed her, glad to finally be able to and stopped her from getting off him, wanting to keep his cock inside her a bit longer. She lay right on top of him and she giggled, splaying herself over him with her face in his neck. 

“Was that okay?” she asked softly, her hand rubbing his chest. His own hands were wandering her body greedily, soaking up the silky feel of her skin.

“Perfect. Wouldn't get used to it though, we all know who’s really in charge here,” he murmured tiredly and she snorted, kissing his neck sweetly. 

He could feel her breathing start to even out, tiredness taking hold of the pair of them and he knew this wasn't the most comfortable sleeping position but he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. His hand smoothed up her back, holding her close as he pressed his face into the top of her head.

“I love you,” he whispered, glad he could just say it now. He felt her smile against his neck and she snuggled even closer to him.

“I love you too,” she replied, rubbing her nose against the sensitive skin she’d previously marked. “Happy birthday, Simon,” she added and he pressed a kiss to her head. Despite the hiccup with the club, he could say this was his best birthday ever. She loved him back and he still couldn't quite wrap his head around how he got to be so lucky. Loving a mess like him was the best gift she could ever give him and he wouldn't take it for granted. 

[redheadspark]

Can I request some Jack Russell pompt with confessions when one character thinks the other is sleeping like Jack is the one who shy to confession y/n that he loves her.

A/N - This is ADORABLE for Jack! I can picture him doing this! Thank you for requesting, anon!

Lucky

Summary - Jack counts his lucky stars to have you in his life

Warning - Just some good ol' fashion sleeping

Jack thought you were adorable when you were in a deep sleep.

You loved to sleep, who didn't? Sleeping was a great way for you to recharge and to be rejuvenated after a long week or work or an intense workout session at the gym. Your bed was your safe haven, you small slice of peace and heaven rolled into one. Maybe it was the fact that you had a full sized bed with massive pillows and cool sheets, or even having black out curtains to help you fall asleep faster and stay asleep early in the morning, but you crave sleep and looked forward to it at the end of the day.

Even when Jack came into your life, you were still a sleeper and Jack found it quite adorable. After dating for a few months, he moved in with you since your apartment was bigger to house the pair of you. Sure it was a massive step, but you both were ready for it. Jack didn't have much himself, not even a decent bed at his old place. He saw how big your bed was, you blushing from his reaction when you gave him the tour of the apartment, and he merely smiled.

"I know you love your sleep, Mi Armor. But this is a bit excessive, don't you think?" He teased, in which you slapped his arm to make him laugh.

He would have to be out all night, thanks to his condition and his job as a monster hunter, which left your to mostly have the bed to yourself until he would come in at the early hours of the morning. Of course, Jack would shower first before he would fall into bed with you, not wishing to have you smell his stench or feel the dirt on his skin after a long night. Breathing in his fresh shower gel scent as he held you in his arms under the covers was a new high for you, aa high you never wanted to loose.

Even when he wasn't having to deal with his monster hunting or transforming into a werewolf, you two would find yourselves in your bed just enjoying each other's presence. Whether you were reading books side by side, or watching the latest TV show that you both became obsessed with, those moments together were now etched memories.

Yet the words,"I Love You" have yet to have been said.

It wasn't that you both didn't love each other, you did. It was evident in how you two interacted on a daily basis and with one another, hugs that were deeply intimate and kisses that were sensual and borderline intimate. But those three words were never uttered from either one of you, which was not a bad thing. You weren't prone to throwing it out easily, and you weren't a sap when it came to words of affirmations and words of love. Maybe you were more practical in a matter, a realist with relationships.

Jack never minded that, he too wasn't one to throw it out easily. He thought of the word "love" as a sacred, nothing to toy with to throw out in the air. He knew going into a relationship with you wasn't going to be all rainbows and flowers, but he also knew that your heart was far too big to play with too.

So one night, you deeply asleep in bed as Jack was walking out of the bathroom fresh from the shower, Jack paused and watched you for a moment. The calmness on your face, your loose limbs sprawled out on the bed with a pillow tucked under your chest to snuggle into, Jack thought you were beyond beautiful. No matter if your hair was a mess or you were slightly snoring, this sight in front of him was nothing sort of beautiful.

He moved silently and without a single sound, lifting the covers from his side of the bed to slide in. Of course you were a heavy sleeper, a joke Jack would use on your constantly since he was convinced you would sleep through an earthquake if it happened. But once Jack was under the covers and his head was on his pillow, you moved. Even while you were sleeping, your body moved to be next to him and your arms were around his waist in a second.

Jack had to laugh, your head going onto his chest and hearing him hum in acknowledgement with him being in bed again. Jack paused in this, seeing you hold him close like a jewel though you were back to sleep again. Something stirred in his heart within that second, watching your head against his chest and you being asleep against him, it made his heart swell all the more.

"I love you" His whispered.

He meant it, almost like he was etching it permanently in his soul for the rest of his life. He was afraid to say it since he had to know if it was real, which was silly because deep down he knew it was. You made his life colorful, filled with happiness when he felt it was bleak and sorrowful. You never gave up on him, and he felt like a coward for not saying it sooner when he should have. He was beyond lucky to have you, never once wanting to let you go.

Love was never meant for the monsters, nor was it meant for the cursed. Jack believed that all his life, thinking deep down he would never get it. Yet there you were, giving him all the love he would ever need. Saying it then and there was all Jack could do, never doubting it for a second.

As he kissed your hair one last time and fell asleep holding you close, he never realized that you heard him say those three words. You smiled, snuggling into him some more.

The End.

Valentines Prompt Session

[thestalwartheart]

care

Rating: Mature/Explicit Words: 1,376 Relationship: James Bond/Q Tags: Hurt/comfort, PTSD, sex, allusions to cbt (and that scene in Casino Royale). Summary:

In bed, things don't go exactly to plan. Inspired by the following anon prompt I got from this list forever ago: one person turning the other off. [Read on AO3.]

Like most men, it’s right on the edge of an orgasm that Q lets slip his stupidest thoughts.

It’s even worse after he’s been denied, as he has been now. He and Bond have been in bed for an age. A long, languid, wonderful age full of teasing and laughing and kisses like treacle, as inescapable as the sticky tree sap Q had worked with in the lab last week.

And now Q is cresting, burning. Falling. He feels like he’s being entirely undone until—

Bond’s fingers circle like a vice around the base of Q’s cock, putting a vicious and immediate stop to the wave overcoming him. Q makes a sound that, in the light of day to come, he will never ever admit to making.

“I’ll have your balls for that,” Q gasps, incensed. “I should have brought a whip. I’ve got one, you know.”

(Never mind that he’d got it as a gag gift when he was promoted to Quartermaster — from Tanner, of all people — and that, even if Q had any real intention of using it, the thing probably holds no sting at all. Bond needn’t know that.)

Q expects a joke in turn. At the very least, a pithy comment. A sounds delightful, or a you’re welcome to try your hardest, darling, but Bond says nothing. It takes a moment for Q’s brain to return to full awareness, and when it does, something doesn’t quite feel right.

Q is no agent, but he hopes he’s considerate enough in bed that he knows when his partner is having a bad time. Bond is doing a very good impression of someone who wants to keep calm and carry on, but there’s a tightness in his that Q is only used to seeing after very bad missions and in meetings with Mallory that aren’t going his way. Never has he looked like this in bed. At least, not in the dozen or so times he’s occupied the same one as Q.

“Ah. Was that terribly unfunny?” asks Q. “I suppose cock and ball torture is a bit of a niche subject for comedic relief. The crown jewels are probably in enough danger out in the field.”

“Yes,” replies Bond carefully. His hand lets go of Q.

There’s a look Bond usually gets when they talk about things to try in bed. It’s a cheeky, heated spark that usually sets Q’s brain (as well as one other, far less cerebral organ) into overdrive. After all, Bond has an extensive back catalogue of lovers and, at nearly forty, Q’s no blushing maiden either. So the look happens fairly often, and it usually leads to an hour or so of furious passion where they try to outdo their own imaginations or memories as much as each other.

That look is nowhere to be found now, which must mean—

Oh. Oh, God.

Q wonders if it was a mission, and if so, which one it was, and whether it was in bed or during some less overtly sexual horror show outside of it. Stupidly, he also wonders whether it was a woman or a man. Would that have mattered to Bond at the time? He imagines it probably didn’t — getting one’s cock and balls smashed to smithereens probably shuts down most higher brain functioning related to things like gender. The thought of it happening at all turns Q’s stomach. Even before they’d started sleeping together, he’d never been very good at witnessing Bond in agony.

Before he can move off Bond’s lap and ask any more questions, Q finds himself being flipped until he’s under a wall of muscle. Bond wastes no time in kissing a path down Q’s neck. It’s usually one of Q’s very favourite things, particularly now that Bond seems to have memorised every sensitive spot, but now, it’s a lost cause. The delicious burn of earlier has faded to ash.

“James—”

“Relax.”

The affected smoothness of that voice is nothing but a front. Q only knows it is because Bond never talks to him that way, not anymore.

“No. No, you’re upset.”

“I’m not.”

Q swears as Bond licks around his nipple. It feels much too pleasurable for the moment. “You are. I’ve upset you.”

“I don’t get upset.”

“Oh, bullshit. You have a tell, you know.”

Bond huffs incredulously into Q’s chest. “You’re hardly one to be talking about tells.”

“You don’t have to be good at hiding them to recognise one. And yours is—”

“Shut up, Q.”

Bond’s tongue snakes over his other nipple. At any other time, this would feel luscious. Now, it only provokes an unpleasant shiver.

“Stop. Just stop. I’m not…” Q can feel his cock lolling against his leg. He’s not even half-hard anymore. “I’d really rather talk about this.”

Bond looks up at him with a bit of cold steel in his eye. “I wouldn’t.”

“I understand that, but…”

He trails off as Bond sits up, his thighs framing Q’s skinny hips, and gives him an awful look — a kind of sardonic smile that speaks volumes about how much he thinks Q understands. Q’s mouth goes dry at the sight of it.

“No, you don’t.”

“All right, then. I don’t.”

Bond’s fingers dig in around his wrist, where they’ve been playing pleasantly since Bond flipped him over. It’s no longer very pleasant.

“You’re hurting me,” says Q, even though Bond isn’t, really. Not physically.

The pressure on his wrist abates. Bond looks towards the door, and Q thinks about all the times they’ve mapped exit points from missions gone wrong. He makes a sound low in his throat.

“Wait,” he says, shifting over so there is space to the right of him. “Here, just…I won’t make you talk about it, but I don't—”

I don't want you to leave.

“You don’t want to fuck me anymore.”

Q sighs. “There’s no need to pout. I’m sure my resistance will last all of fifteen minutes.”

Bond tries a smile and a quip about what danger MI6 will be in if Q is ever pressed for information, but his humour is short-lived. As he lies down beside Q, his muscles are tight. Q kneads at them gently, feeling the handful of bicep sitting in his palm; the mole on the meaty part of Bond’s shoulder blade, which, paired with the thin scar from a knife, forms the dot to a gruesome exclamation mark; the tight band of muscle stretching over the radius bone while Bond’s fist clenches in between his chest and Q’s.

One by one, Q loosens his fingers from that fist and twines them with his own.

He longs to say something helpful, but he isn’t sure anything he says would help at the minute, and Bond is a man who seems to prefer the language of touch. So he keeps his mouth shut and his fingers moving in slow motion and breathes a little sigh of relief when, eventually, Bond tilts his head forward and grunts into his shoulder.

“I don’t enjoy pain, Q. Not anywhere, but especially not there.”

“That’s fortunate, then. I don’t enjoy seeing you in pain.” With a touch to Bond’s bottom lip, Q whispers, “I apologise for the terrible joke. And it was just a joke. Unlike some people, I try to be gentle with the equipment in my care.”

“And I’m in your care, am I?”

Ah. Right. Q worries his lip between his teeth. They’ve never ventured this far into the realm of feelings and emotions. But there’s a smile tugging at the corners of Bond’s mouth, one that wouldn’t be there if he were completely allergic to the idea of Q caring for him.

“Perhaps since we sat down in front of that Turner painting,” says Q, feeling as if he’s standing on the edge of a rooftop. “Are you, erm—is that—?”

Q’s answer is a long, insistent kiss that Q feels down to his toes. A few very pleasurable hours later, it’s also a “thank you” whispered in the dark that Q isn’t sure he was meant to hear at all.

He presses a kiss to Bond’s shoulder and makes a mental note to throw out the whip hidden at the back of the bedroom cupboard.