#i always find something that i nitpick after all

[jasper-pagan-witch]

I am 22 pages into Nothing But A Pack Of Cards and so far I'm enjoying the writing style. It's flowy, and absurd (complimentary), and it really emphasizes that this is one person's experiences with a system built from the ground up.

It reads less like a 101 baby's first guide to magic and more like the research notes of a less-than-hinged mad wizard scientist, which is honestly my favorite kind of book. (I say, as a less-than-hinged mad wizard scientist with research notes myself.)

[sceletaflores]

come on and show me a little bit of spine!

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 5.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, smoking, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, public sex (alleyway hehe), biting, blood but not blood play, pain kink, scent kink, a special guest (!!!), jealous logan muahahaha, emotional constipation but like wtf is new, nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, probably ooc logan and friends sorry i'm just a girl, porn w/ plot (a little???), no use of y/n.

author’s note: HAHA BACK ON MY LOGAN BULLSHIT! who’s laughing? not me. i can’t stop writing for him it’s insane and selfish i know i know i’m sorry. bee tee dubs this is part two to all’s fair in love and viscera cus i couldn't get them out of my head so...kisses!

five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…

All men are the same. X-gene or no x-gene, they're all immature pigs.

You've come to find that it's more than just skin deep. If you took a knife to every man in this bar, you'd surely find the exact same little metaphorical mass of arrogance ingrained in every single one of them once all the layers are peeled back far enough.

And that's what Logan is, a man.

A stubborn, arrogant, mind-numbingly frustrating man who's convinced he could never be wrong just because he's had a little more time than normal to perfect the art of being completely insufferable.

No adamantium skeleton or foot long claws of death can change that.

You could set him on fire, drown him, watch him regenerate from a single cell, and nothing would change.

So, in hindsight, you really should have seen this coming.

It was Ororo's idea to go out, insisting the team needed it. A casual night at the bar across town to raise bravado after a few close call missions.

It sounded fun at the time, and for the first thirty minutes it was.

Getting to shed your hero skin for a few hours every so often is always nice, and you love your team. Love getting to just sit and live with them. You hardly get nights like this anymore, filled with playing pool and darts like people do.

That being said, you were reaching the top of your limit. Fast.

It started at the bartop, with Logan sauntering up next to you for the first time tonight. 

He slid into the empty seat to your left, leaned against the bar casually, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips tugged into that half-smirk he wore that night in the training room.

“You avoiding me?” he asks, voice low, bent down just enough to speak directly into your ear. "Haven't seen you all night."

You almost scoffed, almost turned to face him so he could see the look of irate disbelief on your face. Almost, but you didn't want to give him the extra attention.

"I could ask you the same thing."

You didn't miss how things had changed between the two of you after your night in the training room. Something shifted, and not in the romantic 'so...what are we now?' territory.

It shifted into Logan disappearing, closing himself off. He didn't go out of his way to avoid you, didn't even go as far as ignoring your existence entirely. He didn't need to, you knew it was different.

He refused to talk about it, refused to even acknowledge it, completely shutting you down the one time you tried bringing it up.

It stung. The feeling of rejection, especially after that night. You felt like you bared a part of your soul to Logan on that dark blue training mat. You swore you saw something different in his eyes too, a subtle shift, something that said this ran deeper than just a messy fuck between friends.

It played on your mind like a loop, every detail. You nitpicked almost every single thing you did, searched your mind for what you could have done that scared him off.

It has to be you, it always is.

It took a week to get over it. A week to wash away the feeling of Logan's hands on your body, of his lips on yours, of his cock carving a space for itself in your cunt, of his blood sliding down your throat and slicking the palms of your hands.

Eventually, that sadness gave way to self-reflection. Self-reflection gave way to anger, and now you're just plain pissed.

This has nothing to do with you.

Logan is a grown man, not a goddamn baby. He should know how to communicate by now, should take the stick out of his ass and drop the whole 'I'm no good for you baby' martyr cross he's carried around for over a century and talk to you.

But if he wants to be alone to sulk in self pity and sorrow for two hundred more years, you'll let him.

Logan's smirk falters, his expression falling with a heavy sigh. He leans back, one boot moving to rest on the rung of your stool. "You really want to do this here?"

"You came up to me," you shrug, finally turning to face him. The warm glow of the bar lights catch the edges of your frustration. "If you’re here to talk, then talk."

Logan doesn't respond, just meets your gaze with a raised brow. His eyes scan over your face slowly, taking in the pinch between your brows and the stern look in your eyes.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Scott's voice pierces through the tense air between you. His tone is casual in a way that's undermined by the smug smile turning the corner of his mouth up. It's too knowing, like he'd been listening in before.

Logan's brows pinch together in irritation the same way they always do when Scott talks, but he holds your gaze. His silence is infuriating because it's the same old routine—he just stares, brooding, like he’s waiting for the problem to magically solve itself without ever opening his damn mouth.

It makes your blood simmer just under the surface, the tips of your fingers burning with it.

You grind your teeth, balling your hands into fists where they sit on the bar. "Scott," you say, not breaking eye contact with Logan, "go play fetch or something."

Scott raises his hands in mock surrender, but you know he won’t leave without a parting shot. “Just looking out for you, you know. Can’t afford you two tearing each other apart over a little lovers spat before the night’s even over.”

As he saunters off, you turn your full attention back to Logan, who’s still studying you with that infuriating intensity. It’s as if he’s trying to decode some secret language written across your face.

You almost want to laugh at how predictable he is, how he thinks he can just sit there, unbothered, while you’re ready to explode.

“Are you really just going to sit there?” you challenge, leaning closer, daring him to respond. “You can’t keep dodging this forever, Logan. You think I’m the only one feeling this? We were both there that night."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think you see the flicker of vulnerability beneath the gruff exterior. But then it’s gone, replaced by that stubborn wall he always puts up.

“I don’t need to talk about it,” he mutters, his voice low, but there’s an edge of desperation that catches your attention. “What’s done is done.”

“‘What’s done is done’?” You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “Is that your new catch phrase? They gonna start printing that on the front of your action figure's box?"

Logan's brows furrow deeper, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. "Watch it," he warns tersely, the edge of a snarl on his lips.

You lean forward, desperate to get anything out of him. "Or what?"

The bar buzzes around you, laughter and music blending into a distant hum, but all you can focus on is him—the way his eyes flare with that familiar spark of rebellion, how handsome he looks under the bar's dim lights, the way his smell is starting to warm your insides despite how mad you are.

You raise your brow, waiting, hoping. He stays silent.

That's it.

You stand abruptly, causing your stool to scrape against the floor loudly. Logan straightens, eyes narrowing as he watches you, but you’re more than done with all of this. You've had enough.

"I'm going for some air." you say evenly, slipping your jacket off the back of your chair. "Don't follow me."

You turn and walk away before Logan can answer, heading in the direction of the bar's alley door.

You try your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, the first tendrils of dread wrapping themselves around you tighter with every step. Your eyes burn embarrassingly each time you blink, but you refuse to cry.

You’re emotionally spiraling a couple feet from the door when someone suddenly steps in front of you, and you crash into them.

“So sorry, ma’am,” A familiar voice says from somewhere in front of you as two strong hands grip your waist to steady you. “Completely my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You crane your head up, eyes dragging from the blue gingham button down stretched over impressive muscle until they land on a pair of blue eyes and blonde head of hair you recognize.

“Steve?” 

Steve Rogers smiles down at you, his hands still lightly resting on your waist. His expression is soft, apologetic, and a little surprised. Your name falls from his lips in a warm greeting, his hands lingering for a second longer before he drops them and takes a small step back.

“I’m surprised you still remember me. It’s been a while,” he says with the same boyish charm you remember, like he hadn’t just watched you nearly barge through the door like it owed you money. “How’ve you been?”

You blink up at Steve, the frustration from your situation with Logan still fresh, swirling through your system like a storm.

How’ve you been?

What a loaded question.

“Better,” you answer with a tight smile, barely convincing yourself. “Just tired. We’ve been so busy recently, you know how it is.”

Steve gives you a searching look, his eyes skimming your face with the kind of care that makes you want to shrink into yourself. His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering in those crystal-clear eyes of his as he studies your face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely, like he’s already picked up on the fact that something’s off. 

How could you forget, he’s got the emotional radar of a saint. Lucky you.

"Yeah, sure," you lie, adjusting your jacket and pointedly avoiding the obvious upset that’s probably plastered across your face. You force a smile, hoping he buys it. "Just needed some air. This place is packed."

The furrow of Steve’s brows deepen, his lips pressing into a thin line like he doesn’t believe you. You feel worse under the intense pressure of his knowing stare, like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass.

You’re about to say something—anything—to fill the awkward silence, but then you feel it. That heavy, unmistakable presence at your back.

Of course he didn’t listen.

Steve’s eyes flick over your shoulder, and you don’t even have to turn around to know Logan’s right there, brooding like a dark cloud about to burst. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves as one strong arm slides underneath the thick denim of your jacket and around your waist.

“Cap,” Logan’s clipped voice greets from somewhere behind you, laced with barely concealed irritation as his fingers dig into the cotton of your shirt, staking some sort of unspoken claim.

Steve gives Logan a respectful nod, though his expression remains calm, measured, the same quiet authority he always carries. “Logan,” he greets, smile faltering for the second it takes him to drop his eyes to Logan’s arm. “Nice to see you doing well.”

Logan hums noncommittally, you feel the rumble of it against your back. “Didn’t think this was your scene,” he says to Steve, brow cocked in suspicion.

Steve shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. “It’s not, usually. I got strong armed into joining a few friends.”

“Right,” Logan replies, tone flat like Steve would have a reason to lie.

You can almost see the tension thickening in the air, an electric pulse that shoots straight through you. Logan’s grip tightens subtly, an instinctive reaction to Steve’s presence, but you can feel the subtle heat rising, the way your heart races under his touch despite yourself.

It’s infuriating, and for a second, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are, why you walked away from Logan in the first place—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Steve and I worked together, a base infiltration in Albany a few years ago.” You cut in, shooting Logan a look over your shoulder, like a sharp glare alone could get him to calm down, if only for a second. But he just meets your gaze with that familiar stubbornness, eyes dark and unyielding. 

It’s infuriating, and for a moment, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Steve says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

And it does. 

You think of Kevlar squeezed around your ribs, of explosions and buildings falling and the smell of gunpowder.

"Yeah, it does," you reply, ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach and forcing a smile.

“God, you look…” His gaze rakes over you like he can’t help it, the bright blue of his eyes trailing from your face down your legs and back up all over again. You can feel Logan bristle next to you. 

”You look amazing,” Steve finishes with a small shake of his head, million dollar smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Buy you a drink?”

“We were just leavin’, Cap,” Logan cuts in tersely, his arm tightening around your waist even more. His grip is possessive, but it’s not affectionate—it’s an unsaid challenge, a warning. “Calling it an early night.”

You whip your head around, confusion evident on your face. "We?" you parrot back, the word hanging in the air like a challenge of its own. “We haven’t decided anything.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, that familiar stubbornness rearing its head again. His hand splays flat over the span of your lower back, pushing just enough for you to feel the power behind it but not enough to really move you. “Let’s go.”

You look at Steve, then Logan, then the crowded bar, then the door to the alley, and repeat. 

It should be an easy answer, an easy way out of going in circles with Logan even more than you already have.

But you find yourself stuck, feet rooted to the floor as your mind races with a hundred different thoughts in the span of a second.

Your lips part, and you’re not even sure what you’re going to say, when Steve beats you to the punch. 

"She can decide for herself," he says evenly, though there's a subtle shift in his tone. It’s calm, but there’s a steely edge to it, like a well-honed blade concealed beneath all the politeness. He’s still smiling, but it’s less soft now, more hardened around the edges.

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging in like he's daring Steve to push the envelope any further. “Yeah? Don’t think she needs you speakin’ for her, either.”

"Enough," you snap, stepping out of Logan’s hold with a sharp turn, your voice cutting through the growing storm between them. You turn to him with a hard look, brows pinched in anger. "Fine, let's go."

Your smile feels strained, the edges sharp and jagged as you face Steve, the weight of Logan’s presence at your back heavy and suffocating. “It was great seeing you, Steve. Really.”

Your voice sounds strained even to your own ears.

“We’ll have to catch up some other time,” you add, though the words taste bittersweet on your tongue. 

You can tell he wants to say something, his smile completely dropping as his eyes flit between you and Logan a few times. You give him a pleading look, a reassuring nod that you’ve got this. 

Steve hesitates, you can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the situation and trying to gauge the tension in the air. But ultimately, he nods, offering you one last smile that’s laced with concern.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice warm despite the tension hanging in the air. “I’d love to. Just let me know when.”

With one last nod to Logan, he turns and walks away to meld into the crowd until you can’t make out the blue of his shirt anymore.

You don’t turn to Logan as you finally walk out the door. The clunk of his boots follow you the whole way out.

As soon as you’re outside, all the anger sets in at once, burning hot in your stomach as you spin around to face him. The fresh air hits your face like a slap, cool and bracing, but it does nothing to quell the fire simmering inside you.

"You really can't leave well enough alone, can you?" You snap, folding your arms defensively. “You just had to go and stake your territory?”

Logan’s face hardens, his eyes dark under the dim streetlight. “What do you expect me to do? Let you walk away and get buttered up Rogers while I sit at the bar with my dick in my hand?”

“Steve wasn’t doing anything!” You exclaim, frustration seeping into your every word. “He was just being nice, we’re friends.”

Logan lets out a disbelieving snort, shaking his head hard enough that his hair sways with it. “Nothin’ about that was friendly, kid. You’d have to be fuckin’ blind to not see that.”

You huff, turning your eyes to the sky in exasperation. “Why do you care?” you fire back, heart racing at the challenge. “We’re not together! You’ve made that more than clear!”

Now that the seal is broken, it’s like you can’t stop. Words fall out of your mouth faster than your mind can keep up, all the pent up frustration you’ve felt over the past few weeks boiling over.

“You’re the one that’s acting like nothing happened!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with every word. “You’re the one who disappeared, who’s been avoiding this whole thing like it didn’t mean anything!”

He growls, stepping closer, his presence looming. "You think I don’t know that, kid? You think I haven’t been dealing with this shit—with us?"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it! You don’t talk about it. You don’t even try! You just stand there and expect me to what? Read your mind?”

For a split second, Logan’s expression falters, his shoulders stiffening as if your words struck a nerve. But just as quickly, the mask falls back into place. "I’m no good for you, kid. And you know it. I’m doing you a favor."

"There it is again!" You bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "The martyr complex. You’ve been alive for over a century, Logan. You’ve got time on your side, and you still can’t figure out how to be a decent human being in a relationship?”

He flinches slightly, but his eyes remain locked on yours, anger and frustration swirling behind them. "It’s not that simple."

“Of course it is!" You step forward, closing the gap between you. "You just don’t want to do the hard work. You don’t want to open up, to be vulnerable, because then you’d actually have to face yourself. And God forbid Wolverine confronts something he can’t claw his way out of.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing, and for a long beat, the two of you stand in a tense, electrified silence. The world around you seems to fall away—no bar, no missions, no X-Men—just the two of you, standing in the alley, raw and exposed.

You don’t know who moves first, you or Logan, before you can register it, the distance between you disappears, swallowed by the pull of all that unresolved tension.

His lips claim yours, fierce and urgent, as if this was the only language he’s fluent in—raw emotion, violent passion. His hands find your waist again, gripping tight, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss is messy, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongues, but it’s exactly what you expected. It’s how you and Logan have always been—no finesse, just fire and stubborn intensity. It’s the only way he knows how to communicate, the only way he can let go, even for a second.

Your hands slide up into his hair, yanking roughly as a guttural growl vibrates from his chest into your mouth. You feel the heat of his skin, the coiled tension in his muscles, and it ignites something wild inside you.

The anger hasn’t left—it’s just morphed into something darker, something hungrier.

The kiss is nothing like the ones from that night in the training room. This one is full of anger and frustration, all the emotions that have been simmering between you two finally bubbling over in an explosive release. His lips are hard, demanding, and the taste of whiskey lingers faintly on his breath, mixing with the metallic scent of the alley.

You push back just as fiercely, your hands tangled in his hair as you try to pour all of your hurt, your confusion, and your pent-up rage into that single kiss. For a moment, it’s all- consuming—hot, reckless, like trying to catch fire in your hands.

“You’re such a fuckin’ punk,” he grates against your lips, kneading the meat of your hips roughly like he’s trying to anchor himself to you. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, his growl vibrating through you like a warning shot, but it only spurs you on.

"You’re one to talk,” you bite back, the heat between you both as volatile as ever.

You drop your hands to his chest, gripping the leather of his jacket in your fists and yanking him closer until there's no space left, until it's hard to tell where the anger ends and the need begins.

Logan growls, the sound reverberating deep in his chest, as his hands move up your back, possessive and rough. “You keep pushin' me, kid. You really wanna see how far I’ll go?"

"Maybe I do," you shoot back, biting down lightly on his lower lip. You taste the blood—his blood—and something primal stirs in you. His healing factor kicks in almost instantly, but the heat between you spikes with the sharp tang of it. It always does.

Logan hisses sharply, tongue swiping over the blood still dotted along his lip before he’s pushing you backwards.

You have no choice but to move with him, blindly stumbling back a few steps until your shoulders hit the wall of the bar. His lips attached to your neck the whole way, teeth nipping at the rapid flutter of your pulse.

It’s like a wildfire spreading between you, all heat and destruction, and the alley around you seems to fade into the background, leaving nothing but the chaotic mess of you and Logan.

You consider the risks of fucking Logan in an alleyway for all of two seconds, every single warning bell in your mind going silent when his hands tighten their hold on your hips to spin your around, pushing you up against the brick roughly.

“Fine,” he concedes, yanking the fabric of your skirt up hard enough you hear a tiny rip. “I’ll give you what you want, princess.”

The sound of his zipper being tugged down might as well be a gunshot with how loudly it reverberates through your mind. Your thighs slide together slickly, aching cunt clenching in anticipation.

The soft sound of Logan pushing his jeans down is the only warning you get before the thick head of his cock is sliding over the wetness staining the fabric of your panties.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, hooking his fingers into the lace to tug it aside and slip the length of himself through your slick folds. “You need a cock in your hungry pussy to feel better?” He lines himself up with your fluttering entrance, pushing gently until the very tip slips in.

Your lips fall open, brow furrowing as he starts feeding you his length one infuriating inch at a time.

Anger still warms your gut, but you find yourself nodding wordlessly. Tiny, desperate sounds escaping your throat the deeper he sinks in.

The stretch of him is almost too much, like he’s splitting you in two. It’s the kind of sting that just barely toes the line of pain and pleasure in the best way. It has you crying out when he finally bottoms out, pressing your forehead against the brick to try and ground yourself.

Logan’s considerate enough to keep still, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips as you adjust.

“God,” you groan, shifting your hips enough to feel the way his cock rubs along your walls. The burn starts to melt away into pure pleasure with every grind.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan goads, hands still planted on your hips as you start to bounce on his cock in earnest. “Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

His words just spur you on, a high whine falling from your lips as you set a steady rhythm. The slap of skin on skin getting louder, echoing around you lewdly. 

“Mm, feels good huh?” he hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder.

You barely choke out a garbled ‘yes’, thighs starting to shake with the effort of thrusting yourself back. 

“Sorry,” he says, gripping the meat of your hips to pull you back against his cock roughly. “What was that?”

“Yes!” you mewl, cheeks burning. The anger steadily drains from your body the closer you get to come, until it's an afterthought just present enough in your mind to still matter. “Feels so good, please Logan…”

Logan groans under his breath, pulling his hips back back back until he’s reaming forward. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s taking over. Big hands anchored to your hips to drag you back on every snap of his hips. 

Your entire body lights up, the pathetic noises passing through slack your lips barely register over the white noise rushing through your ears. Logan’s fucking you like he wants to break you, heavy hips pounding into the meat of your ass like an animal. The slap of it stinging your skin only for him to pull out and leave you empty before filling you again.

You go pliant in his grip, a high moan escaping you as he expertly hits that spongy spot inside of you that has heat pooling in your gut.

“God, I missed this,” he admits into your hair, one hand sliding around to press against your lower stomach. Logan’s hand is massive and blisteringly hot over your skin, cupping and feeling where he punches up into you with every thrust from the outside.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pressing his forehead to your back desperately. “Do you feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, stuff you so full you’ll be leaking for weeks.”

“Logan,” you gasp, heat coiling in your belly. 

“I know,” he breathes, hips speeding up impossibly faster. “I got you, honey.”

You turn your head, the skin of your cheek scraping over the rough bring with every hard snap of his hips. The thick muscle of his forearm fills your eye line, strong and tan where it cages you to the bar. You swear you can see the blood pumping through his veins. Your stomach jerks with need, your mind buzzing.

Without thinking, you lean forward and bury your teeth in the muscle there. The coppery tang of blood on your tongue sends you reeling, a deep groan rumbling through your chest.

“Fuck!” Logan exclaims, giving one last thrust before he’s burying himself as far as he can. His cock throbs, pulsing as he unloads inside you. Rope after rope of come paints the shaking walls of your cunt, slicking the thrust of his that much more.

Pleasure goes off in sparks all up your spine, lighting up every vertebrae until the fireworks go off in your brain. Your hands claw at the wall desperately, eyes screwing shut as you fly over the edge.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, hands digging into the brick hard enough that it cracks and crumbles beneath them, falling to your feet in little rock’s.

Everything around you fizzles out into nothing, just a dull hum cocooning you in this moment, and for just a second it’s like you're floating. 

The heave of Logan’s chest against your back and his lips on your neck only add to that far away feeling, nice enough that has you leaning into the warmth of his body. 

A car horn blaring somewhere in the distance jerks you out of any warm, fuzzy feelings and deposits you back in the real world. Your eyes refocus on the building in front of you, and a displeased groan rips from your chest.

“I made a mess,” you murmur quietly, looking at the two matching dents in the bar's wall and the same red powder staining your hands.

Logan huffs into the sweaty skin of your neck, an amused noise. “That’s alright,” he says, barely out of breath. He pulls out just enough to let his come start leaking out around his dick, sliding down the length of him in thick rivers of white. “So I did.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disgust as he steps away with a snort. Your voice is breathy and small when you speak, “You’re disgusting.”

It's quiet for a long time, both you and Logan dressing yourselves in silence. The thrum of traffic around you mixed with the muffled music bleeding through the wall is the only noise filling the space.

You drag your eyes to him, watching as he yanks up his jean’s zipper while you smooth your skirt down.

“I told you not to follow me. When we were back inside,” you say, voice steadier than before but just as breathless.

Logan meets your eyes, and there’s a pause. For a second, you think maybe he’ll turn around and leave, run away to try and forget this too. Instead, you hear his boots scrape against the gravel as he steps closer.

"I don't take orders well, remember?" His voice is gravelly, like he’s chewing on the words before spitting them out.

"Obviously," you huff under your breath, a humorless laugh shaking your shoulders slightly.

Logan’s lips quirk into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, but it fades just as quickly.

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating off him again, his presence as heavy as ever. But this time, there’s something different.

He looks drained. Not physically, but emotionally. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly, his voice tired. “You know that.”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck in that rare, almost vulnerable way he does when he’s out of his element. Finally, he meets your gaze.

“I’m…" he trails off, mouth pulling into a wince like it physically pains him to apologize. "I’m sorry…”

“Wow,” you say slowly, head tilting to the side as you study him. “That was the worst apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Logan narrows his eyes at you, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement flickering across his face. “You gonna let me talk?” he asks curtly, but there’s no real bite to it.

You sigh, nodding your head for him to continue.

He shifts his weight, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I know I’ve been a stubborn ass. I’m used to keeping everyone at arm’s length. It’s safer that way. I’ve lost too many people to just let someone in without a fight.”

His voice drops, laced with a vulnerability you rarely see. “I thought if I just stayed away, it would make things easier for you. I’m not relationship material, kid. I can’t be that guy for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

He shakes his head, his shoulders slumping in more as he talks. “I’m a damn mess, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. A lot. It just scares the hell out of me.”

For a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to lash out more, to keep the anger burning because it feels safer than the vulnerability you’re feeling now.

On the other hand, for the first time tonight, you see the man behind the adamantium, behind the claws and the gruff exterior. The man behind the Wolverine.

You only see Logan, who’s lived through centuries of loss and pain, who’s learned to build walls so thick even he can’t break through them sometimes.

And damn it, you hate how much you still care. You hate that, even after everything, Logan is the one person who can make you feel like this—angry, frustrated, and vulnerable all at once. But you can’t deny the truth any longer.

Because underneath all the anger and hurt, there’s still that spark. That stupid, stubborn spark that refuses to go out.

You take a step closer, your hand gently reaching for his. “You don’t have to be anything, Logan. You just have to try. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He nods, a slow, deliberate movement. Taking a slow set closer to you, he takes your cheek in his hand. The bright red rawness of your skin is slowly draining, tiny cuts knitting themselves together. “I can do that.”

He slides his thumb across your cheekbone and somehow, you believe him.

It’s not perfect. It’s not a promise that everything’s going to magically be okay. But it’s a start.

Maybe that’s enough.

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[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : BODYGUARDS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader x Platonic!Wade Wilson

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: When you come home feeling overwhelmed by college stress and a troublesome boss, Logan and Wade step in. After a heartfelt talk with Logan, they confront your boss to ensure you’re no longer troubled. With their support, you find comfort and reassurance, knowing you’re not alone in facing your challenges.

YOU HAD ALWAYS KNOWN LIFE WASN’T EASY, BUT TODAY WAS SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY. The stress of juggling college classes, work, and just trying to keep it all together was slowly getting the better of you. You weren’t the type to break easily, but this… this was overwhelming.

You pushed open the door to the shared apartment you lived in with Logan and Wade, your bag slung over your shoulder, your eyes cast downward. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the familiar scent of home, a mix of Logan’s woodsy cologne and Wade’s unmistakable love for chimichangas.

Wade was lounging on the couch, remote in hand, flipping through TV channels. “Hey, sport! You’re just in time to witness me obliterate Logan at Mario Kart,” he called out, grinning like a maniac.

Logan, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, raised an eyebrow at Wade, then glanced at you. Normally, you’d throw a sarcastic quip back at Wade or smile at Logan, but tonight, you couldn’t muster either. You barely looked up.

“Hey,” you mumbled, walking straight past them and into your room, shutting the door softly behind you.

Both men exchanged a look, their senses immediately on high alert.

“That’s… not normal,” Wade commented, frowning slightly. “She didn’t even call me an idiot. Do you think it’s serious?”

Logan stayed silent, eyes narrowing. The way you’d come home, shoulders slumped, weighed down by something unseen—it was enough for him to know something was deeply off.

“Let her have some space,” Logan said gruffly, though the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Wade sat up a bit straighter. “You think it’s space she needs? Or maybe a hilarious anecdote about the time I fought a taco truck driver because he wouldn’t give me extra guac?”

Logan’s glare was sharp enough to silence even Wade for a moment. “Space,” Logan repeated firmly. “For now.”

~

Inside your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the soft comforter doing little to quell the storm brewing inside you. Your mind raced, thoughts spiraling.

Your boss at work had been on your case all week, nitpicking every little thing as if you couldn’t do anything right. Then there was that huge exam you’d studied for in your hardest class… and you had failed it. The letter ‘F’ haunted your thoughts, taunting you. Everything felt like it was crumbling, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

You hated feeling this way, like the world was slipping from your control. More than that, you hated the idea of burdening Logan or Wade with it. They had enough going on already.

A knock came at your door—light, but firm. You didn’t respond immediately, but the door cracked open slightly, revealing Logan’s rugged face. His hazel eyes were full of that familiar intensity, softened just enough to show he was concerned.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, but gentle in a way reserved just for you.

You nodded, sitting up on the edge of the bed. Logan stepped in, closing the door behind him, and came to sit beside you, his large hand finding its way to your back. His touch was warm, solid, grounding.

“You’ve been off since you walked in,” Logan started, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your back. “Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

The dam you’d tried to keep sealed started to crack. Your throat tightened, and tears you’d been holding back pricked at your eyes. “I… I don’t even know where to start, Logan.”

Logan was silent for a moment, letting you collect yourself. He wasn’t one to push, but when he spoke again, there was a firmness in his tone. “Start wherever you want. I’m here. Wade’s here. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

The floodgates opened. You started rambling, voice shaky, hands trembling as you tried to get it all out—the boss who wouldn’t leave you alone, the crushing pressure from school, the failure of the test you’d worked so hard on, and how everything just felt like it was spiraling out of control.

“I feel like I’m failing at everything, Logan. I try so hard, but it’s never enough. I just… I can’t anymore,” you whispered, finally breaking down, tears streaming freely now.

Logan pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel protected, safe. He didn’t say anything at first, just held you, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“That’s not true,” Logan finally said, his voice steady. “You’re not failing. Things go wrong, yeah. Shit happens. But it doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough. You’re human. You’re allowed to have bad days.”

You sniffled, leaning into him more, soaking in his warmth, his solidity. “It’s just been so much…”

Logan pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, his hand cupping your cheek gently. “And that’s why you don’t have to do it alone. I got your back, always. And if anyone’s been bothering you…” His voice took on a dangerous edge, “I’ll take care of it.”

You chuckled weakly through your tears. “I don’t want you fighting my boss.”

Logan huffed, but his expression softened. “Alright, no fights. But seriously… You don’t have to deal with that crap on your own.”

At that moment, the door swung open dramatically, and Wade popped his head in, eyes wide with exaggerated concern. “Are we hugging in here? Because I can totally make this a group hug.”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself. Wade had a way of lightening the mood, even when things felt impossibly heavy.

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything as Wade bounded into the room, throwing himself on the bed beside you.

“I was eavesdropping—sorry, not sorry,” Wade started, “and let me just say, anyone giving you a hard time? Deadpool is on it. I’ve got a very particular set of skills. Skills I’ve acquired over a very chaotic, messy life. I’ll make sure no one messes with my little sibling.” He gave you a dramatic wink.

Logan shot Wade a warning look, but there was an understanding between them. For all their bickering, when it came to you, they were always on the same side.

You smiled, feeling a little lighter with both of them by your side.

Logan rubbed your arm gently. “We’re gonna take the rest of the night off. No school, no work. You need a break.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’,” Logan said firmly. “You’re taking the night for yourself. We’ll watch a movie or do something fun.”

Wade clapped his hands together. “Movie night! I’ll grab the popcorn. And no, you don’t get a choice— we are watching Shrek.”

Logan let out a small grunt, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Wade’s enthusiasm. Despite the mess of emotions swirling inside you, having them around—one a protective, gruff presence, and the other a chaotic, endearing force—made you feel like maybe things would be okay. You weren’t alone in this, no matter how overwhelming it felt.

Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice low and comforting. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. Together.”

And for the first time that day, you believed it.

~

The next morning, you woke up feeling a little more rested. Wade’s snoring had been a background noise throughout the night, and Logan had stayed close, his arm draped protectively around you as the three of you fell asleep halfway through Shrek.

You yawned and stretched, your body feeling lighter than the night before. It wasn’t all better, but you knew with Logan and Wade by your side, you’d get through it.

But what you didn’t know—what neither Logan nor Wade had mentioned to you—was that they had a plan.

~

Later that day, Logan and Wade stood just outside your workplace, both wearing sunglasses. Wade had insisted it was part of the "covert op" vibe, even though they stood out like sore thumbs. Logan grunted, adjusting his leather jacket.

“Okay, Wolvie, what’s the game plan? Because I’m itching to shove someone’s head in a copy machine,” Wade said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan growled under his breath. “No shoving heads in machines. We’re here to talk.”

Wade gasped dramatically. “Talk? Logan, we didn’t come all the way here to talk. Have you met us?”

Logan sighed. “You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Never,” Wade replied, clearly thrilled about the potential chaos.

Logan gave him a side glance. “Just let me handle it.”

Inside, your boss—a middle-aged man with thinning hair and an arrogant air—was sitting at his desk, tapping away at his computer when the door burst open, the bell jingling violently. He looked up, startled, only to see Logan and Wade storming in like two very intimidating storm clouds.

“Uh, can I help you—”

Logan stepped forward, leaning on the man’s desk, his presence radiating danger. “You’re the one who’s been makin’ her life a living hell, right?”

Your boss swallowed hard, his eyes flicking nervously between Logan's intense stare and Wade’s unsettlingly enthusiastic grin. He tried to maintain some semblance of composure, though his voice wavered. “I’m… sorry? Who are you talking about?”

Logan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a growl. “You know exactly who. The one you’ve been botherin’ all week. You’re gonna stop.”

The boss blinked, sweat already starting to form on his brow. “Listen, if you’ve got a problem, there are proper channels—”

Wade, who had been pacing behind Logan like an impatient child, suddenly slammed his hands down on the desk, making the man jump. “Oh, we’re past proper channels, buddy. See, we’re the 'hands-on' approach. You ever watch John Wick? Think of us like that, but with more sarcasm.” Wade flashed a grin that was more menacing than reassuring. “Y’know, I’ve got so many ways we could handle this. My personal favorite? Something involving a very, very tight stapler and a completely unrelated office supply.”

Logan shot him a glance, silently telling Wade to dial it back. Wade just winked, enjoying himself far too much.

The boss stammered, scrambling for words, his hands now trembling slightly. “I-I didn’t mean to upset anyone. If there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“No misunderstanding,” Logan interrupted, his voice calm but filled with a quiet, deadly promise. “You’ve been makin’ life harder than it needs to be. That ends now. You leave her alone, or you’re gonna wish you had.”

The room went deathly quiet. Logan’s words hung in the air, and though his tone was controlled, the weight behind it made it clear—he wasn’t making a request.

Your boss nodded vigorously, too scared to say much else. “Of course. I’ll… I’ll make sure there’s no more trouble. I didn’t realize…”

Logan stood up straight, stepping back and letting the tension between them settle. “Good. ‘Cause if I hear otherwise, we’ll be back. And I guarantee next time, talkin’ won’t be on the table.”

Wade patted the boss on the shoulder as they turned to leave. “See? Easy peasy. Now, don’t make me come back and introduce you to my friend Mr. Duct Tape, okay?”

The boss just nodded, wide-eyed, watching them until they were out of sight.

~

Outside, Wade was practically skipping with glee. “Did you see his face? I think he aged ten years in the last five minutes! Man, that was fun.”

Logan rolled his eyes but smirked slightly. “I’d rather not come back.”

Wade shrugged. “Eh, we’ll see. If he so much as frowns in their direction again, he’s getting the full Deadpool experience.”

Logan let out a low grunt. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

As they walked away from your workplace, Wade threw an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Y’know, Wolvie, I gotta say… we make a hell of a team. You with the menacing silence, me with the witty banter? That guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Logan shoved Wade’s arm off, giving him a side-eye. “Just don’t get used to it.”

~

Back at the apartment, you were curled up on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, when the door swung open. Logan walked in first, followed by Wade, who was humming some kind of victory tune.

You glanced up at them, feeling a bit more refreshed after the night of rest. “Where have you guys been?”

Logan shrugged, moving into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. “Had to handle somethin’.”

Wade, on the other hand, wasted no time flopping down beside you, his arm slung around your shoulders. “Oh, you know, just a quick errand. Nothing major. But let’s just say that your boss? Yeah, he’s gonna be a lot more… accommodating from now on.”

You blinked, staring at Wade in confusion. “What did you guys do?”

Logan took a swig of his beer, his expression neutral. “Had a little chat. Straightened some things out.”

Wade grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Oh, yeah. It was glorious. There was sweating, stammering, a little bit of—”

“Wade,” Logan interrupted, shooting him a look.

Wade huffed dramatically but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Point is, you don’t need to worry about that jerk anymore. He’s gonna be on his best behavior. And if he’s not, well…” Wade’s grin widened. “He won’t be for long.”

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of shock and gratitude. “You… You didn’t have to do that.”

Logan came over, standing behind the couch, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Yeah, we did. You don’t deserve to deal with that crap.”

“Exactly,” Wade chimed in. “And if anyone makes you feel like that again, well… we’ve got plenty of time for ‘errands.’”

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Sure, Logan and Wade had their differences, and Wade was a whole different level of unpredictable, but they both cared about you fiercely. It wasn’t just words with them—it was action, and you appreciated it more than you could say.

“Thanks, guys,” you said quietly, looking between the two of them.

Logan gave you a nod, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “Anytime.”

Wade grinned and reached for the remote. “Alright, now that we’ve saved the day, I vote we celebrate with some violent cartoons and an unhealthy amount of snacks.”

You smiled, settling back into the couch. Despite the chaos, you knew one thing for certain: with Logan and Wade in your corner, there wasn’t anything—or anyone—that could get to you. And that was a comfort you didn’t take lightly.

As Wade flicked through the channels, Logan sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee. You leaned into him, feeling safe, protected. The weight of the world wasn’t so heavy anymore—not when you had these two looking out for you.

And as the opening credits of Shrek 2 rolled across the screen, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay after all.

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[thehighladywrites]

THIS ISN’T GOODBYE, THIS IS SIMPLY SEE YOU LATER…

⋆˙⟡ pairing: ex husband/baby daddy rhysand x fem reader

⋆˙⟡ summary: people who love each other will always find their way back. you and rhys divorced a few years ago, but you will always love each other

⋆˙⟡ warnings: 18+, mdni light angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, smut, violent behavior (not rhysand), misogyny, they’re in love your honor😔

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m a little iffy about this bc i feel like it could be better but i hope you love it. The smut isn’t really that smutty, it’s more fluffy. Please, let me know what you think; leave a comment😌💗 also english isn’t my first language so if something doesn’t make sense, ignore💀 ALSO LISTEN TO CEILINGS BY LIZZY WHEN YOU GET TO THE RUNNING SCENE PLS IT’S GONNA MAKE SO MUCH SENSE (i hope)

Getting back into the dating scene after your divorce felt strange. Unbeknownst to you, you found yourself unconsciously comparing every man to Rhys, nitpicking on their behavior. Seated at a beautiful restaurant with a guy quite different from your usual choices, things seemed promising until he gave you some backhanded compliments.

“You say you're a doctor? You?” His words grated on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was so shocked.

“Yes, I am. Is that surprising to you?” you retorted.

He chuckled nervously and shook his head. “No, no. I just pegged you for a nurse or something. You know, something more feminine.”

Your hopes deflated. Turns out, this guy wasn't different at all—he was just like every pompous and misogynistic man out there.

Keeping your cool, you fire back with a smirk,

“Is this coming from the person who just told me they bake for a living? I pegged your for a construction worker, you know, something more masculine.” With a smile you excuse yourself from the table, leaving him puzzled and perhaps questioning his outdated assumptions. Your departure left him to contemplate his lacking dinner date skills.

In the search for someone matching the love you'd known, you found yourself in a loop of comparing every date to Rhys. You shook your head, realizing you needed to stop this habit and maybe, just maybe, find happiness beyond those high standards.

With a dramatic exhale, you frowned, blaming Rhys for your lousy love life. After all, he had treated you like a goddess, setting extremely untouchable standards.

—

As if the mother herself had heard your wish, you finally met a somewhat decent man who wasn’t giving you any backhanded compliment or was making you feel uncomfortable. Although he was somewhat nice he was a little bland and not something you would typically go for. He was very nice with your daughters but could have a temper.

But beggars can’t be choosers right?

With utmost tenderness, you approached the conversation with your twin daughters, explaining the new man in your life. In soft words, you explained that mommy and daddy weren't together anymore, framing it as a journey of finding happiness even though you deep down weren’t feeling the happiness you portrayed. You emphasized the still-there love between you and their father, assuring them that sometimes people are just better off as friends.

Even though the news initially saddened them, your gentle touch in explaining the complexities of grown-up emotions, coupled with the warmth of your smile, melted their worries away. As they saw the happiness radiating from you, your daughters embraced the idea, understanding that your heart always carried love for them and their father.

Little did you know that your mischievous baby girls spilled the news to Rhysand, sharing every detail about the man you were seeing, your dates, and even telling him that you still loved Daddy. However, being the little dramatists they were, they exaggerated, making it seem like you were head over heels for him.

Despite almost three years of separation and the seemingly agreement to divorce, the twins' confession ignited a flame of jealousy in Rhysand. The mere thought of you going on dates and being entertained by other men stirred an irrational desire within him to claim you as his own. Witnessing other males treating you and touching you made him feel absolutely murderous.

He hates that you’re not together anymore, hates that you don’t wear your wedding ring even tho he wears his, he hates that he’s not by your side. But most of all he hates himself for ever letting your marriage break apart.

Rhys had attempted countless times to mend what was once whole, to win you back and rebuild what had crumbled. However, you always hesitantly turned him down, insisting that you couldn't put each other through that hurt again.

The fact that the girls spoke so highly of the man you were dating only fueled Rhysand's jealousy and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically. “Oh, he’s so nice, took us out for ice cream and we went to the theater,” they gushed. He couldn't shake the feeling that it should've been him – watching plays with you and your daughters, taking them out for ice cream together. The longing for the life he once had with you remained a persistent ache in his heart.

Of course he doesn’t let it go the next time you come around to drop off the girls

The joyful echoes of your daughters filled Rhysand's new and massive mansion, quickly greeting their father and saying goodbye before dashing inside, leaving you and Rhysand alone. Observing them run to the living room, playing with their new toys, you couldn't help but smile. With their father's violet eyes and dark hair, they were practically clones of Rhysand.

Caught in the moment, you looked up at Rhysand, finding his captivating eyes already fixed on you.

Fuck.

The intensity of his gaze almost made you forget the dinner plans with your boyfriend.

“I heard you were seeing someone,” he remarked, and you froze, feeling an unexpected twinge of embarrassment. It wasn't supposed to be a secret; you just weren't ready to share it yet. Trying to save face, you swallowed back any stutter and inquired,

“Who told you that?”

“My daughters told me all about him.”

That’s what you get for trusting 6 year olds. Your attempt at secrecy shattered, and you found yourself apologizing,

“Ah, sorry for not telling you about it; it's all very new, but the kids seem to like him. And I promise he wouldn’t be around them if i didn’t trust him.”

Rhysand's jaw ticked in frustration. Well, wasn't that just fucking great? Your daughters not only liked but loved the guy, and here you were, agreeing with them.

“So, you two hit it off. How marvelous.”

You sighed and looked away,

“Please, just don’t.”

Silence hung in the air as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. Breaking the silence, you sighed, signaling your readiness to leave your old house.

“Okay then, I'll be leaving now. I'll come pick them up later tonight. Thanks for watching them tonight, I know it was last minute. But, um, actually, can I pick them up tomorrow instead?” you asked, and Rhysand felt a flicker of suspicion, silently praying he was wrong.

“ I thought we agreed on tonight. Do you have other plans?” he inquired, hoping for a straightforward answer.

Your face flushed red as you considered explaining the evening's plans, but it felt wrong to share such details with Rhys. Opting for a lie, you hoped he wouldn't catch on.

“Oh, yeah, I've got some things I need to do at the hospital tonight. You know, just some reports on a few patients. Nothing major, but I might be a bit... worn out tonight, and that's why I need to pick them up tomorrow.”

The half-truth hung in the air, and Rhysand's suspicions lingered, creating a subtle tension in the farewell.

“So this has nothing to do with you going on a date with your little friend? Sorry, boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, Rhysand stepped closer, closing the gap until there was almost no room between you. You backed away slowly until your back hit the front door. His towering presence made you look up at him, a shiver running down your spine. Tilting his head, he approached your ear, and the soft words he spoke, combined with the warm breath on your skin, sent a wave of heat through your body.

“It should be us, love. Please come back to me,” he murmured, and your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the proximity. As his hands came around your waist, turning you around so your back rested against his sturdy chest, it became impossible to leave the embrace of his warmth. Deep down, a part of you didn't want to escape the intoxicating sense of his presence.

He pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms around your middle as his calm heartbeat pounds against your back, his words confessing a truth that breaks your heart twice.

Once, because the vision he paints sounds so ideal – the two of you getting back together, going on dates, playing with your daughters, being a whole family again. It's the life you had once dreamed of, the life you wanted with the man you spent centuries with, the father of your kids, your greatest love.

The second break comes with the painful reminder of why you found yourself in this mess in the first place. Rhysand had been too consumed by his work, constantly holed up in his office, neglecting the precious time with you and your daughters. Despite understanding the importance of his duties, you couldn't help feeling the sting of neglect. It reached a breaking point when your girls tearfully asked for their daddy every night, only to find he wasn't there.

Realizing the toll this dynamic took on your family's well-being, you made the difficult decision to part ways. Telling Rhys that you weren't good for each other at the moment, you emphasized the need for him to work on himself and find a balance between work and family.

As you gather the strength to move out of his grip, facing him becomes the hardest task.

Turning around to meet his gaze, his face reveals the devastation within. His once vibrant features now wear a sad and empty color. You utter words that add another layer to the heartbreak,

“Rhys, please, you know we can't. Someday but not now.”

His eyes gloss over as he whispers,

“Fate was not in our favor, my dear. But I swear on everything I have, I will do my best to earn you back.”

Tears well up as he kisses your forehead, whispering promises of finding a way back to you.

The weight of the unspoken goodbye lingers, and you walk away, hoping that time and healing would pave a path for the future you both yearned for.

Because you did want to be with him, you really fucking did, and you cried the whole way home. Rhys had given you the town house while he lived in the River estate. The tears flowed even more freely as you sat in your empty and silent house.

Each sob intensified as you went to your cold and empty bed, the very one that used to cradle him in – your husband, your heart. The ache of the empty space beside you was a painful reminder of the love that once filled those sheets, now replaced by solitude and the haunting echo of what had been lost.

—

Your puffy eyes opened slowly, abruptly yanked from a deep slumber by the pounding on your door. Glancing at the clock on your desk, the numbers 1:46 glared back at you – who the hell could it be at this hour? Irritated, you stumbled to the door, ready to chew out whoever dared disturb your sleep.

The door slammed open, revealing Sam standing there, visibly upset. Your still-sleepy brain failed to connect the dots fast enough, and it took a moment to register that you were supposed to be on a date with him tonight. The realization dawned, and you found yourself caught in the awkward aftermath of a missed arrangement, facing Sam with both confusion and exhaustion etched on your face.

“Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for hours,” he exclaimed, his worried and angry eyes searching yours.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, you pulled him in by his hands, urging him to come inside. Apologizing over and over, you hugged him tightly, saying that you fell asleep over and over until he forgave you.

A part of you knew you did it to calm his potentially violent reaction.

“At least your alive. Next time, let me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot,” he said, his comment irking you despite understanding where he was coming from.

Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around Sam's neck, pulling him into a distracting kiss that escalated quickly.

Before he could say anything more about the situation and grow even more angry you kissed him again, trying to shift his focus elsewhere, which was easy. He lifted you and walked you toward the bed, the same one you had shared with Rhys.

Suddenly, a wave of panic hit you at the thought of another male's scent mixing with Rhysand's. With huffed breath and panicked words, you interrupted the moment, “No, not the bed. Let's just use the couch instead.”

Your urgency left no room for argument as you pulled him toward the living room, desperate to avoid a mix of past and present that could overwhelm you with regret.

—

The birds chirping outside stirred you from your sleep as you stretched in your soft bed. Morning got here quicker than you thought. However, the warmth you felt next to you wasn't just the morning sun – it was Sam. Your eyes opened, facing the clock, you saw it was very early in the morning, 3:57. The memories of the previous hours hit you like a brick. A bigger realization followed – Sam's scent now filled the air, replacing the familiar citrusy aroma that had been your husband’s for centuries.

This revelation overwhelmed you, making you want to throw up as tears welled up as panic set in. Crying over this felt foolish, considering your separation from Rhys, but it made everything feel permanent and official, like there was no turning back. The chance to reconcile seemed lost.

As you stood up, the room spun with regret, and you slithered to the bathroom. The sight that greeted you made your stomach churn – bruises covered your neck, arms, and legs. Your hair was a mess, and your lips were swollen. More tears fell as regret, deep sorrow, and the weight of your choices consumed you.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.

In your panicked state, you stepped into the shower, hoping to wash away not only the physical remnants of the night but also the emotional burden that clung to your every step.

The steaming shower brought no comfort, and as you shut it off and walked up to the mirror, wiping away steam, you saw a hollowness in your own eyes. The water didn't wash away the feel of Sam's hands on you. But you knew you could drink a tonic for the bruises, so you could atleast pretend it never happened.

Frustrated and heartbroken, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The one person you needed the most, Rhys, felt impossibly distant, intensifying the ache inside you.

Desperation took over, and wiping away tears, you threw on a robe, downed the healing tonic and quickly ran over to his house. Each step carried regret and a deep yearning to fix what had gone wrong.

Your Rhys, the father of your children, yours.

He was what you needed in the moment, he’d make it all better.

In the midst of irrationality and impulsivity, you could not find it in you to care about the consequences. All you needed was him.

You burst into his estate, slamming open the doors before frantically searching for him.

“Rhys?”

Your attempt at a yell came out as an ugly cry, tear-stained and choked.

Yet, it was enough to grab his attention.

Rhysand descended the stairs, clad only in pants, his trademark messy bedhead on display as worry etched across his face.

It was so unlike you, and it had him speculating the worst.

Before he could ask you any questions, you ran up to him and broke down in his arms. Rhysand immediately comforted you, picking you up, and hauling you upstairs to his bedroom.

No words were needed as he undressed your sobbing form and put you in his shirt before pulling you closer to him, making you sit in his lap.

Your face buried in his neck, tears dampening his skin. Rhysand, familiar with your ways, sensed you’d open up when ready. He sat, holding you, flooding your mind with love and reassurance without a single word.

Rhysand conjured a glass of water, holding it to your lips, ensuring you didn't exert yourself. As you downed the refreshing water, he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering by your neck. His thumb traced soothing circles on your cheek, a silent gesture of comfort.

“Thank you, Rhysie. M’sorry for showing up like this but I just needed you.”

His gaze intensified, his grip firm yet reassuring as he held your chin, locking eyes with you. With a seriousness that touched deeply, he spoke, his words carrying a sense of unwavering commitment.

“You don’t apologize for it. I’m here for you, no matter what. Do you understand?”

You nod, throat closing up at the wave of emotions,

“I understand.”

He leans forward, kissing your forhead while cradling your head,

“Good girl. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

With teary eyes you look up to him and reveal what’s on your mind.

“I want us back together again. We belong together and I’m tired of pretending we don’t. I miss you so much. You’ve been working on yourself and I’ve been doing the same. I know we’re ready.”

Rhysand remained silent, his eyes studying you carefully. He sensed an emotional storm within you and was hesitant about decisions made in this state.

“I do not disagree. Reuniting our family, especially getting you back, my sweet girl, is my ultimate desire. But, I want you to sleep on it. I want us to discuss this when we're well-rested and more alert. What do you say?”

You knew you were being rash and quick, so you were thankful for Rhysand's guidance. You nodded in agreement.

He kissed your cheek and gently placed you under the sheets, joining you in bed. Rhysand pulled you closer, and soon you were resting on his chest, listening to the steady thudding of his heart.

“I’ve always loved you, Rhys, so much. I hope you know that.”

His heartbeat quickened as he pulled you even closer.

“I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”

—

The chirping birds and soft sunlight streaming through the window woke you up gently. Your body felt completely relaxed and at ease, knowing you were safe and sound. Stretching lazily, you sighed in contentment before rolling over in bed.

You felt the warmth of something next to you, so you snuggled closer, enjoying the comfort. After a few moments, you felt it stir.

The moving object was Rhysand. Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you almost scrambled away in panic before the events of this early morning flooded back to you.

Despite the fact that you had left your boyfriend alone in your house and now found yourself in your ex's bed, cuddled up to him, you didn't feel any panic. Instead, you felt indifferent. You felt surprisingly good, even better than before. You felt right. Like everything was in it’s place.

“Don't panic,” Rhysand murmured softly, reaching out to gently stroke your back. “We need to have that talk, darling.”

Nodding silently, you agreed to follow him downstairs, your mind racing.

You couldn't help but melt around him. There was no need to even use your brain around him. Rhys made everything feel delightful as he began fussing over you. He did everything from dressing you in the cutest outfits to gently brushing your hair. With his big, warm, comforting hands, he led you downstairs, making every step feel like a new chapter starting.

Once in the kitchen, Rhysand set to work, expertly whipping up breakfast as you watched him, a knot of anticipation forming in your stomach. You knew this conversation was important, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort as you observed his familiar movements in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but admire Rhysand as he moved around the kitchen, his muscles flexing with every movement. He had a newfound confidence about him, a certain dad-like aura that only added to his appeal. His masculine energy was buzzing, and combined with his good looks, it was hard not to be drawn to him. Rhys had grown impossibly more majestic and stunningly handsome in the years you were seperated.

Rhysand caught you staring, and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive. The heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly looked away, unable to hide your blush.

“Maybe I do,” you whisper teasingly, a hint of mischief in your voice.

“Careful,” he warns with a playful glint in his eyes, matching your flirtatious tone.

As he handed you a plate filled with nostalgic food, you couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. He had even removed the bits you didn’t like, showing that he remembered even the smallest details about you. It warmed your heart to know that he still cared so deeply.

After you finished eating, he cleared his throat with a serious yet excited tone and said, “Let's talk.”

With a nod, you accept and he extends his hand, guiding you to a cozy sitting room.

“Where are the twins?” you ask, curious when you don’t hear or see your daughters.

“They’re with Cassian and Nesta. They came and picked them up earlier this morning,” he responds.

You nod again, then sit down on the cushy couch next to him.

“Rhys, I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think yesterday just cemented it for me. I think I’m ready for us again, and I’ve missed us together. What do you think? I mean, do you want me too?”

He flashed you his most sincere and hidden smile he only showed you and grabbed your chin with his pointer and thumb

“Sweetheart, I’ve missed you more than words can express. Of course, I want us to be together again. You are my everything and I will never again risk you.”

He took a deep breath and looked down, his voice filled with remorse.

“I've hated myself for letting you go so easily. I wasn't there for you or the girls, and it will always be my biggest regret. I vow to never again disappoint you and to do everything in my power to earn back your trust in my presence. Please forgive me.”

As the faint burn of the promising bargain tattoo emerges on both his and your wrists, a soft smile graces your lips. With gentle assurance, you reach out and place your hand on his, your touch offering comfort and calmness.

“Rhys, I forgive,” you say sweetly and hopeful. “I've missed you, and I want us to be together again. Let's leave the past behind us and focus on building a future together, okay?”

Feeling his arms around you, you melt into the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. His touch is comforting, and you revel in the warmth of his warmth. As he gently squeezes your waist, you giggle, feeling a sense of joy wash over you.

He attacked your cheek with kisses, making him land on top of you on the couch as your back rested on the seats.

“But I think we should take it slow. Maybe start off by going on dates.”

He pulls back and looks at you, his gaze intense yet tender. “Yes. Let's take it slow. We have all the time in the world, no need to rush.”

You both sit there, locked in a silent exchange, the air thick with anticipation as you inch closer to each other.

“We definitely shouldn't kiss, right?” you ask, feeling the heat of his breath mingling with yours.

His arms tighten around you as he speaks softly, his words grazing your lips. “We shouldn't.”

The moment your lips touch, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It's been so long since you felt the familiar warmth of his kisses, the feeling of home in his embrace. Rhysand, your darling, the love of your life—you've missed him more than words can express.

As the kisses grow more messy and desperate, a soft whimper escapes your lips, causing his eyes to darken with desire.

A sudden panic washed over you at the thought of your now ex-boyfriend waking up to find you gone.

“Rhys, I have to go back and end things with Sam,” you blurted out, your voice raspy and flustered between kisses.

Rhys's expression darkened as he heard about your ex-boyfriend.

“I'll handle it,” he declared, determination lacing his voice.

“What does that mean?” you pressed, curious and a little concerned.

He responded with a secretive smile, kissing you again, his touch making you melt into him.

“Don’t worry your little head about it. I got it covered,” he assured, his tone confident and reassuring.

So you let it go. If he said he had it handled, then you trusted him to take care of it.

His assurance left you feeling cared for, sparking a desire for more. More of him, and more of that comforting reassurance he provided.

Before you could voice your need for him, he beat you to it. With a tender kiss on your forehead, he spoke softly.

“I’m going to take you upstairs and make up for lost time. But before we start, I’m going to feed you a little bit more. Don’t argue, you’re going to need the energy.”

Your mind went blank, slipping into a submissive state, ready to follow his lead without question.

With a nod, you rose from your seat, arms outstretched in silent compliance.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms. With each step towards the kitchen, his gentle strokes on your hair and whispered promises of what lay ahead sent shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what was to come.

After quickly eating the food he conjured up, you stood up in a rush and grabbed his hand, urging him to take you upstairs right away.

He chuckled and scooped you up, showering kisses on your lips and neck as he carried you upstairs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his middle.

Your nails dig into his scalp, head thrown back as you whimper with pleasure. Your toes curl as his teeth graze against a sensitive spot, his smirk growing against your skin.

“Tell me, darling. How do you want it today?”

You're only aware that you're inside the bedroom when he sets you down in front of the bed.

You know exactly how you want it. You want him to take charge, dominating your every move, just like he used to. Rhys knew how quickly you submitted to him, and he had a hunch of how tonight would go. It was easy slipping into those roles with him in charge. So you look up at him with a shy smile, fondling with the strings of his dark linen pants, and tell him.

“Can we please do level four?”

Pride spread across him at your good manners. He loved that you still knew what to do even after years of not being together.

He would have sent all his loving emotions through the bond if it existed. The absence of a bond between him and you always seemed abnormal. Both of you questioned the Mother’s decision all the time, hiding the fact that you both were scared of the possibility of your mates popping up and claiming the other.

Shaking away his thoughts, he smiled at your words again and complied.

Step by step, he undressed you, his eyes never leaving yours. Rhysand’s eyes dropped to your pebbled nipples, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the intense attention he gave you.

“You still remember the safe word?” he rasped out, his pupils expanding as you nodded, your lips nervously caught between your teeth.

He pounced on you, eagerly kissing you in a brusing manner as he tightened his arms around you. Rhys slowly made you back, resulting in you falling backwards into the bed before he climbed on top of you.

His hands found your waist amd subtly squeezed before sliding up to your boobs and playing with your hardened nipples.

You whimpered in pleasure, making him smile as he lowered his mouth to attatch to your right breast. His wet, warm tounge swirled around the bud, biting and licking soothingly. He repeated the move on the other side, reveling in the way you were squirming under him.

“Is it too much, sweetheart?”

“Not enough.”

So his hand slid down your body until his thumb brushed over your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back when he put pressure on it, rubbing tight circles against you. It was almost mortifying how quick you melted and lost your mind.

A few more circles and you’d be cumming. Almost, almost.

The pleasure was short-lived when he removed his thumb, causing you to pout slightly as your brows furrowed in confusion.

“No teasing. You can play later, I’ve missed you too much.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated makeout session.

You also wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered against his lips,

“I need you so bad, please. I need your entire being.”

He slipped one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he added another finger and felt your walls pulse around him. Rhys pulled them out before shoving them back in, repeating the move, stroking your walls. He curled his fingers inside as he carefully watched your face morph from a begging expression to a fucked out smile.

“I will give you whatever your heart desires,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again. As he did, he conjured his massive and majestic wings, spreading them proudly behind him, a breathtaking display of power.

Your wobbly smile melted into tears of joy as you whispered, “There you are,” feeling overwhelmed by the rush of emotions at seeing him again.

Rhys didn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He held onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy, circling it and letting your wetness drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his cock, he used it as a lubricant before he slid himself inside you.

Rhys pulled out and then in again until his entire cock was stuffed in you. He then leaned forward, putting his forehead in the crook of your neck, gently biting and sucking hickies onto your skin. He began thrusting, harder and harder. The entire room echoing with skin slapping, groans and pornstar-like moans.

Rhysand’s gripped your hips in a brusing manner, rocking them back and forth forth as he moved his own hips.

He lifted his head and gently brought his hand to your face, cupping your chin as he murmured,

“You're mine. Mine to love, to fuck, to have.”

You nod eagerly, your need evident.

“Only yours, baby. Forever and always, yours.”

He growled softly and turned your body around so you were on all fours. Gripping your hair, he pulled it back, causing your back to arch against his chest.

Rhysand put his dick back in and pumped deliciously against that spongy spot that had you acting like a mindless fool.

“You got fucked this good while we were seperated, hm?”

His hand snaked up and held your neck, applying a gentle pressure, a hint of restraint, as he taunted you.

Of course, he already knew the answer. But it was always nice to hear it from you.

“M-right, there, no one compares to you. No one could ever, ah fuck, do me this good. P-please, let me cum.”

“Fuck, yeah that’s right. But I think it’s a little too early for you to cum. I told you I wanted to make up for lost time. We’re nowhere near done.”

You let out a whine at the denial, a little vexed that he didn’t give you permission yet. But you knew he had plans so you decided to wait in hopes of getting something better.

“Good things come for good girls, you know that right?”

“I understand. Just keep going.”

You knew you forgot to add a please and were more than happy when he gave your puffy clit a slap.

“Manners.”

“Keep going, please.”

He chuckled at how quick you gave in and kissed your cheek, letting go of your hair and pushing you forward to your elbows and knees. Rhys grabbed your hips and gave you deep, slow and intentional strokes. Almost like he wanted you to cum early.

Rhys kept going for a long time, bringing you to the edge, only to snatch away pleasure in the last second. You were tired but knew all of this was building up into the most intense and powerful orgasm ever.

“Do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea how deep my love for you goes?”

Cue the waterworks.

Really, his words started making you bawl right there. With concern etched on his face, he gently moved you into missionary, turning the back-breaking backshots into a tender moment. As he pushed in for the last time, he hovered above you, his forearms on either side of your head, kissing your puffy lips.

“I love you too, Rhysie, so, so much. There's really no one I love more than you.”

Your words were raspy and choked, his words were sweet and understanding.

“I know, sweet girl. I know you do.”

Suddenly, a snap felt in your chest. You both locked eyes, breathing heavily as you felt a thread weaving your very souls together. Tears prickled in your eyes at his words.

As the realization of the mating bond sinked in, a warm glow envelops both of you, filling the room with a sense of love and belonging. Rhysand's eyes softened even more, if that's possible, as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes.

“You're my mate,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “My soulmate, my other half.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing moment. “And you're mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “Forever and always.”

Rhysand moved quicker and quicker, finally allowikg you to cum.

You were on the verge of passing out, the only reason there was any sort of fight in you left was because of the charged bond.

Before he pulled out, you locked your legs around him and begged him to stay inside. He did and slumped on top of you, his head resting on your raising and falling chest. You ran your hands through his damp, dark hair and reveled in warmth when he wrapped his wings around the two of you.

You both rest for a while before starting up again. Normally, a session like this would have you knocked out cold but you guessed it was the fresh bond.

The entire day was spent tangled in sheets and fucking in showers, other rooms, hallways, kitchens, roofs. Rhysand also sent a mental message to everyone in the inner circle, breaking the news and asking them not to disturb you for at least a week. He also asked Cassian to keep looking after the girls and warned that anyone who got too close would likely die.

—

You and Rhys, lay together in a pile of fluffy blankets and pillows on the floor, the bed damaged and broken from the week’s activities.

“Rhys, do you know what I think? I think it’s kind if poetic that we broke up and then became mates. I mean, it sounds very romantic.”

He chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest.

“You know what? I agree. The Mother does work in mysterious ways. I guess we weren’t ready before.”

You smile at him and nod,

“I’m glad we find our way home.”

With a tender look and a sweet kiss, he whispered,

“As am I, darling.”

🏷️ taglist: @tayswhp @jenjen-0-x @itsinherited @thisblogisaboutabook @luvmoo @se7enteen--black-blog @feyretopia @possiblyphobia @azriels-mate2 @sfhsgrad-blog @readychilledwine @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @blupblupfish @cleverzonkwombatsludge @iloveazrielshadowsinger @cat-or-kitten @dreamlandreader @honeybeeboobaa @queerqueenlynn @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @clairebear08 @danikamariewrites @midnight-and-books @ruler-of-hades @annaaaaa88 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @stasiereads @harryshoobies69 @itsagrimm @a-dorkier-book-keeper @b0xerdancer @erikan809 @glittervame

[ohmygraves]

Hello! I've got a little writing idea if you want to do it. Reader and the rest of 141 are at a bar and reader keeps getting hit on throughout the night. Ghost/Soap getting jealous and feeling protective/possessive over reader and intervene. Just a little bit of a guard dog trope really. Scary man privileges. Hope this sounds a little interesting to do, have a good day :)

hello!!! thank you sm for the idea 💖🫶🏻 please enjoy this humble writing, i love the idea 💛 i wasn't sure if i want to do it with ghost or soap so i did both lol have a good day yourself!

scary dog privilege — ghost/reader/soap

warnings: creepy guy being pushy, alcohol mention, swearing

your little outing at the bar tonight seems to be quite unsuccessful.

actually, no, someone else would argue that you had a very successful day at the bar, since you're currently being hit on left and right by the other patrons. that's the purpose of a bar, right? to maybe find someone to kiss or hook up with one night, and hopefully not catch anything along the way.

but no, you're actually getting quite annoyed right now, as you want nothing more than to sit back, relax, and just get a few drinks with your friends from work. that's all. you want nothing to do with these people who want to get into your pants, or even ask you what's under it.

after a job well done, your captain had wanted to treat the team a few drinks to celebrate. this gets everyone excited, especially because he's not giving any price limits, and he's quite generous. besides, who would miss out on getting free drinks?

maybe you, because you're actually thinking if it was better if you'd just stayed behind, maybe read a book or watch some movies. hell, you could've even spent time at the shooting range, which you actually hated! (because ghost would nitpick at every single thing you did wrong when shooting, and he won't leave you alone until you get it right)

poor you, being such a people pleaser, not wanting to offend the person trying to hit on you, giving them a chance to speak and you'd listen attentively before turning them down because you're not here to hook up, you're here for some drinks and maybe to catch up with your friends. work has been so awful lately that the five of you haven't had the chance to even speak about anything other than mission, work, training... it's slowly getting annoying.

unfortunately, it seems like the others are not so interested in catching up, seemingly leaving to do their own thing. gaz went to the bathroom after downing a few pints, captain went out for a smoke as it is a non-smoking bar, and ghost and soap were somewhere near the billiard table, competing for something stupid again likely. and you? you're left alone in the booth the team always sat in, alone, taking sips of your drink waiting for kyle to come back from his pee break.

you've turned down two men so far, who fortunately was smart enough to sense that you're uninterested in their idea of a good time. you have to admit, you felt quite bad turning them down, especially since they seem to be quite courteous.

this fucking bloke, however...

he was very drunk, very pushy when talking to you. you could literally smell the alcohol off of his breath, it was a surprise that no one has tried to kick him out yet. he kept pestering you, trying to sit beside you and touching you, and your politeness is growing thin everytime he tried to get you to drink with him. you tried to tell him you're not interested, but he was too drunk to even register a "no", apparently.

seriously, where the hell is kyle? why does he need to piss out his two pints of beer immediately after drinking them?

you cursed at kyle, wondering which bathroom he went to for his pee break. did he go to the bathroom in the fucking philippines or something, what's taking him so long?

quickly, someone else scooted over beside you, leaning against your shoulder. soap.

"aye, this lad bothering yer, hen?" he asked you, arms slung behind your shoulder. you thanked whatever gods sent him your way.

the man who tried to hit on you seemed offended, was about to give soap a piece of his mind, before he was yanked out of the way by ghost, thrown aside down on the floor. it made a huge commotion, people were now looking at you.

ghost sat down quietly in front of you — where the man just sat after he tried to touch you, "reckon we should give him 'piece o' our mind, johnny?" he asked the scot.

"mmmaybe. what yer think, lt?"

now the man was fuming, being humiliated in front of the bar when he was trying to flirt with someone?

to make matters worse, now soap decided to kiss you!

he gently held your face, pressing his lips against yours, and to make it believable, even slipped his tongue in-between your lips, his eyes glaring at the drunk bloke. the man who tried to flirt with you was dumbfounded, too surprised to even say anything.

soap pulled away from you for a moment, letting you catch your breath. but before you could say anything, ghost pulled you over the table, his hands gripping your collar as he kissed you too, following what soap did, but much more intense. you didn't even see him pulling his mask up.

"see? lass's taken. shoo." soap held you close after you kissed ghost, basically telling the guy to fuck off. somehow, he left, still fuming though at the two guys who claimed you just like that.

you? you were a little dazed. confused. whatever. your two work mates kissed you after saving you from a random bloke who did not know what no means because he was too drunk off his arse. and strangely enough you didn't mind, they were the best kisses you've ever gotten in your life.

"why'd you two kiss me?" you asked, somehow. you felt stupid right after asking, clearly the answer was to help you get away from that creep!

ghost let out a sigh, taking a sip of his own glass of bourbon. "think we did ya a favor there, love."

you thanked both of them, but you still feel soap's hand squeezing your size, pulling you close to him.

"ye see, lass, can't have 'nother blether hittin' on ye."

you didn't seem to mind, you were getting tired and too drunk to even care. at least you're safe with them.

soap lets you lay your head on his shoulder, talking to ghost about something as you three waited for price and gaz to return.

[voltronisanobsession]

heyy! i was hoping to request a percy x eris! reader.

like since eris is the goddess of strife everyone thinks the reader would be all dark and gloomy all the time, but reader is a literal ball of sunshine, complete opposite of what everyone says.

but just because reader’s personality is opposite of their mom it doesn’t mean they doesn’t use their powers. i was thinking they have the ability to create conflict, like during battle and stuff reader can make their opponents fight eachother.

following the creating conflict thing, i also think reader is very good at arguing. whether it be something small or big, they always win. this would drive the camp nuts with reader always getting their way. i think percy would secretly like this because he thinks reader deserves whatever they want and more

thank you!

Percy with Eris!Reader

OOOOO ME LIKEEYYYY!!! The way i had a RUSH of inspiration reading this!

Has anyone watched that one mlp equestria girls movie about the sirens? And how they're music caused everyone to go against each other? Well this definitely reminded me of them lol

Also lowkey less centered around Percy SORRY😭😭😭😭😭 I was just so focused on baddie reader😔

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA

Despite there being very few children of Eris now, I feel like most people know of the destructive power her offsprings hold

There's even cautionary tales amongst half-bloods to leave an area where discord settles in human hearts unless you want to backstab your friends

Children of Eris have been known to lack empathy for others, preferring to watch as people tear each other part over the littlest of things

This had made them starting catalysts for wars back in the day, until Olympus decided 'reducing' Eris' children would be better for human-kind

Her children still roam the world though, spreading chaos and strife just by their mere presence

Now when Percy was told this information for his quest to retrieve one of Eris' children and bring them back to camp, he was not expecting reader to be such a bubbly person

Homeboy was ready to battle them and take them back to camp by force if he needed to, something he really didn't want to do, but he was very much confused and unsettled to see how different reader was to what he was told

Instead of being a dark brooding figure, taking delight in chaos you were creating, you sat by your lonesome, appearing upset with all the arguing and fighting happening around you

While people yelled at each other, you would try to help them settle down and make peace, though this would only cause louder arguing between everyone

Everywhere you went, you spread discord and strife amongst the people you passed

Couples on dates would find the smallest thing to nitpick their partners over, customers and workers would argue over the dumbest inconvenience that shouldn't have bothered anyone

It was as if you were the living embodiment of 'having a bad day'

So when he finally approaches you, he couldn't stop the fluttering in his heart at the sight of your bright smile!

You were kind and compliant when he told you of his quest, something he wasn't expecting at all

Percy was waiting for you to at least put up some fight but you never did. Instead you just followed him with a pep in your step, happily talking to him about any and everything

Reader's presence itself causes calamity, their aura affecting everybody near them. It's puts people in a trance

I feel like people would see reader as a bad omen, a source of bad luck to stay away from

This shows with their interactions with Percy!

He sees that you're a naturally friendly person, but you always seem a little desperate talking with him

Like you think that he's gonna leave once he knows how unforgiving your power truly is😔

When he sees you use your power for the first time against some monsters chasing you, it sort of clicks just how controlling you actually are

The monster once working together now clash against each other after only a few minutes of finding you both

You'd glare at them and flick your hands towards them, a wave of your discord hitting them head on

"You've messed with the wrong person, I will not tolerate this disrespect."

Even reader knows their own power and influence to cause strife within anything

Honestly this serves as a perfect distraction for any situation cuz any party involved is gonna be too busy to notice the two of you sneaking by them

Of course there are people who are able to resist readers influence, those who are powerful enough to clear their mind from them. Percy is included in this category

Once you settle in camp, most people avoid you for the most part even when you finally control your mother's given powers💔💔

You try to approach people with a friendly smile and positive attitude but I guess people get too wary

The cabin you would most get along with is Ares, no doubt

It's just nature for children of Eris and Ares to get along as the gods themselves have worked together in the past on many occasions

Percy still sticks close to your side though, always reassuring you when you feel like giving up on making any friends

I think campers would start approaching Eris!Reader more once they witness them arguing with Dionysus over a situation

Whether it be over something simple as a cancelled game of capture the flag, or sending people out on an important quest that cannot wait, it's clear that the argument is in readers favor

The god and demigod are both quick witted, making back and forth talk look as easy as breathing

Its obvious your natural power backs the wine god himself into a corner when he cant find another excuse for his decision

And really? He'll never win an argument against the god of strife and discord's child

He sees Eris' unforgiving gaze in your eyes

So he puffs his chest and mutters a few words before disappearing with a low, "It's your life, not mine."

Reader def gets brownie points from the camp for not backing down against Dionysus

Hell even Percy is cheering you on as everyone surrounds you

"You're so cool! I don't think i could ever speak like that to Dionysus of all people."

"Oh it was really nothing..."

"Come on, you got the big dog to agree with you! That's like, never heard of!"

"Yeah!"

I think everything would be smooth sailing from there

People know not to drag you into any fight/arguments cuz they know you'll win regardless

And if you do find yourself in one, you already know Percy is gonna be such a big instigator like bro go away LMAO💀

You two would get along so well since he's able to keep up with your quick remarks

And after everything you've been through, and how much he's helped you in changing your life, it's after one dinner night when you confess your growing feelings for the boy

He's gotten to know you for the person you are, not for the person people say you are

Percy knows you're more than just your mother's child, a vessel of discord

He knows that you’re a good-natured person at heart and you've poured your heart into fixing everything you cause destruction to

He happily accepts your feeling, awkwardly admitting he's felt the same for some time 😅(what a cutie patootie)

Honestly I see sm potential for Eris!Reader, especially if they were like an antagonistic character

They don't even have to get their hands dirty to have their enemies succumbing to them

Badass demigod with a badass boyfriend

What more could you ask for lol😜

ALSO

He knows not to get into any fights with you cuz you will win in the end, whether you were right or not

The most he can do is put up a good fight😭

[godbirdart]

Looking at your recent commissions, those backgrounds are soo pretty!! Do you have any tips for backgrounds? I always struggle with them :>

aAA many many thanks!!

backgrounds can absolutely be a struggle but they don't have to be! they just require a little more creative planning~!

whether it be a commission or a personal drawing, if I'm building an elaborate art piece i focus on establishing the background First.

the background is the stage for your character! planning the background first will make it easier to tailor the character's actions and how they interact with the environment around them.

planning the background first can be the difference between your character standing awkwardly front and center with the setting going on behind them, or actually participating in their environment.

if i'm super stumped for background ideas, i browse stock image sites to get inspiration. sometimes it helps to doodle on an image to generate some ideas - kinda like you're playing with JPEGs like dolls.

that said - while i'm pinpointing WHAT i want to draw, i keep the ideas loose. i don't want to focus on the itty-bitty details until i've got the overall aesthetic and layout in mind, as i might get inspired to add something in later!

THUMBNAILING

if you're planning a big piece it can be helpful to break it down into something bite-sized before you go all in and start lining or painting. these are "thumbnails" - fast little sketches that establish the scene in a way that doesn't consume a lot of time or effort. it's also great as a little perspective exercise as a treat.

here i decided i want to draw a character walking home in a back alley street. with these photo references in mind, i can plan a layout and how the character will act in the scene. is this a candid shot? are they posing cutely? are they looking down at us in a tense way? there are many ideas to be had!

after you've chosen the layout / vibe for your idea, you can scale up your thumbnail to your preferred canvas size and start fleshing out the details. be sure to keep referring to your reference images to get additional ideas, such as storefronts, items, props etc!

3D MODELS

If you're trying to create a unique environment that photo references simply cannot help you visualize, 3D models exist! This gives you that ability to rotate / scale things for better visualization. Clip Studio has a vast catalogue of 3D models to download For Free that you can fiddle around with. i know there are many 3D builder sites out there as well, though i've never made use of them so i'm afraid i cannot recommend any off the top of my head. hell, you can even use the Sims game to design a setting and go from there!

also if anyone is going to come into my house and say 3D models are cheating: they are not. using a 3D model to better grasp an angle or get a better idea for perspective is not cheating. using 3D models to help plan the environment in your art is not cheating. they are no different than brushes; these are tools made to HELP YOU. use them!

PERSPECTIVE

perspective and angles can make a HUGE difference in the art piece. there's nothing wrong with static long shots! if that's what you want to draw, do it!! there's no right and wrong here!

but if you're finding your work to be a little robotic and stiff, slap an angle in there. consider an overhead view. these same techniques are applied to photography and film! nothing wrong with wide shots, but every once in a while it can help to throw in a dutch angle.

if there is one note i'd like to leave off on, it's that your backgrounds do not have to be 100% accurate-to-life to be Good. unless realism is something you're really striving for in your style, don't feel compelled to nitpick every brick and leaf in your art. us artists can tend to over-prune our work until our art looks a little bare and soulless. flaws can give your work character, and that's often a lot more appealing than how accurate the scale ratio between background building A and building B are [again, unless you WANT to go for that realistic look then you can fuss over those details all you like].

i hope this helped a little! MY APOLOGIES FOR MAKING IT SO LONG AH

[gazeofseer]

Direction of light to the browns of your life (;

Browns, what grounds you and what burns

You, deeply underneath too.

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Pick a Image

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Image.1

Fatalist is term used for the one who confuses the go with the flow to become prone to act or intent and choosing not to play which will keep them under the fate, is a state of your fear, dear.

Instances of yours : You so badly wanted to take a decision about something quite recently but you step back and waited for the fate to decide for you, but you got more confused now that a week has passed because your fear covers non existential ideologies to appease your mind's guess.

You are a damsel but not in distress but in the capture of your mind's vivid imaginary and illusions that seems like a vision but is not, remember this is the world of manifestation whatever comes here is a by product of your state of being not of your state of reactions and idealism, it is birth out of your actual reality.

So there is a lot of confusions now, to clear which you need to seek your intentions do you really intent towards what your presume to be your purpose? Question that bloody dream does it dares to manifest when you will fail or will it vanish like a delusion you just had to gauge your mind off the bait?

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Image.2

Overthinking is not a disease it is a power of your discipline that flow of thoughts you find a way out of your head quite smart right? Quite logical and prideful to feel right as always, but where do you hide those wrongs, those mistakes, that makes you feel like sinner to do so? You don't strive for perfection, you actually like one, great pretentious can be a great tool unless it becomes wavering, unsettling and making high while feeling the lowest in this moment right?

So much of right, I hear a feminine voice with chuckles shows how confident you are about everything you have, and the way you identify yourself with things, but when you endear it as an experience it's annoying, you start nitpicking, for your thoughts it found a flow in your mouth that you keep bickering, playing to some extent, what leaves bitter in this after all? Is the distance you feel within your authenticity and a convincing truth you lied around about.

You are not sad, not in pain, not in guilt or even regret you are disappointed in yourself, for the way you feel, for the way your head takes over all your heart like a devouring death you smile upon.

You need to really, really stop giving value attention, to your thoughts it's mere exertion of your senses let that go liar are those who say you become what you think, you become what you believe in, you become what you feel like is the mere intuition's guide.

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Image.3

Shed many scales left my scars, even broken the light from the star I held so tightly underneath the sight of wars I had, battles I am fed with, all I could ever be is tired even with the best of the person, I had to feel sorrow and pitful, like an aftermath I stayed in people but with a different story to state of torns, I don't know anything, but I always told about everything, I lend hands and ears, and get rewarded with swords and screams.

Warrior, My champion how does it feel to be your very own thing? Great right then what is the guilt lying in there? There is a cobweb of perception you have crawled your mind through break that, your giving too much importance to the words of others getting absorbed in take your time alone and chose silence sometimes words must fail you so you can see what people mean was truly never about you but the way they feel, they want, they need about you. Do not get into the play of says and opinions they are void. Anyways you have strong instincts and intuition you either way don't need that.

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[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husand x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

Hold your horses, we're going to wattpad territory here.

I went back to reading the cliche runaway wife or stranger with them being pregnant from their one night stand with a CEO and I must say, it's making me really nostalgic.

As a small gift for myself, I'm using the name of my CEO protagonist on the novel I wrote, and his background... Actually, the whole story for this one will be just my novel's. Self plagiarism, if you will lol. There are quite the big alterations, but that's for me to know, and for you to skim over.

So, let's unlock a hidden memory especially for previous wattpad girlies, shall we?

Pause though, this is my 3rd pregnancy fic. I hate myself.

Yandere! CEO name: Iñigo Dragonov

"Father, I seriously do not need your input in my marriage!"

"You will marry the Smith's daughter and that's final!"

"But why?! I'm content with living by myself and flourishing the company! I do not need a wife!"

"How about a husband then?"

"No wives, no husbands, no spouses!"

Allastor frowned. He knew that his son is not one for romance, but he dated a handful of people, also slept around sometimes. But for the sake of his son, who is workaholic to the point he's forgetting about his health, he needs someone who would be there for him.

"Son, if you don't marry the Smith's daughter, i'm afraid I have to get back the company."

Iñigo clenched his teeth. His jaw ticking as he looked at his father with wide, feral eyes.

"You won't do that. You already gave the company to me!"

"Yes, but I will take the company back. And you know I can pull strings like no other."

That's how Iñigo married you, the Smith's daughter.

Dragonov group of Companies. Just the name itself sent shivers down the spines of aspiring and even well off businesses. They're ruthless, and dominated almost every possible market. Textile, food industry, hotels, even schools. Name it, and they'll have it.

So, with the Smith Corp being the leading company in the Fashion industry, and the Dragonov looking to integrate themselves in Fashion and not just textile, Allastor decided to have this arrangement. It's like killing two birds with one stone.

Inigo Dragonov. The perfect man and the perfect bachelor. Rich, handsome, reliable, he's someone who's a bonafide genius when it comes to business. Almost his every investment have such huge profits, and never a lost.

So why was he so adamant about marrying when it's a good strategy in order to get into fashion?

He has always thought of marriage as something so restraining. Something that weighs such a workaholic like him down. He never even thought of marrying unless his father and mother mentions it.

So when his eyes laid on you, he sneered in his heart.

He doesn't want you at all.

He's always finding faults in you.

"Why do you look so frumpy? I thought your company focuses on fashion?"

"Stand up straight. Your slouching is unsightly."

"Will you get out of my sight? Don't you have any work to do? Don't be lazy."

His words never, ever dripped of affection, only vile words of nitpicking came out.

You were tired of it. Sick and tired.

Yet you did your best to always serve your husband in all aspects. Affection, taking care of him, even intimacy. After all, he's still the one to put food on your plate. Not just any food also, but luxurious ones.

But the empty feeling on your heart persisted. You don't want this at all.

So with a heavy heart, you decided to divorce him.

As you predicted, he didn't care. He signed it, and you left the chateau.

But as Iñigo relished in the fact that he's now a single man once more and can focus on his work, you knew something he didn't.

You touched your womb.

"I'm going to take care of you myself, baby." You whispered to the unborn child on your stomach.

Iñigo clocked out of his office and sighed, feeling the tiredness cloak his body.

He felt empty. Really empty.

At first, he felt such a deep satisfaction that he can finish the job easier without you around.

Every time he comes home, nobody will pester him to eat, to take care of himself.

Nobody nosey to ask him about his day, nobody to annoy him by kissing him on the cheek...

Something invisible gripped his heart as he groaned and took off his suit jacket.

"Tedious."

He slowly walked towards the dining room and sat down at the head of the table. He started eating his dinner, feeling the emptiness reside the giant mansion.

Was his chateau always this big?

He looked over to the seat to his left where you usually sat down.

He can see the faint image of you in his memories, talking about your day and job, that he painfully ignored.

He remembered how your lips would always twitch as it fought back a frown from his lack of response.

He would watch you go silent and finish your meal quickly, before waiting for him to finish so that you could bring the plates back to the kitchen.

He would remember your tired sighs and fervent glances at him.

He went upstairs, wanting to take a shower.

The room you shared with him was now devoid of your personal touch, just leaving with a dark and modern aesthetic that looked like it was from a display in a furniture shop. It was professional, too professional.

He looked over where your vanity was once was. Now there's just an armchair and a lamp that he never really used.

He got to the bathroom and what was once filled with your bathroom essentials. Now, it was just his shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and paste, and other basic needs tucked away.

And as he went under the shower, tears started to leak from his eyes, regret gnawing at his heart.

He never realized how much he loved you.

He never realized that the reason why he was so critical of you was that he was trying to distance himself from you.

He never realized that your presence was a constant peace in his fast paced life, and that you were a part of his routine.

And now that you're gone...

He gripped his wrist, a bruise forming.

And that was his daily routine a year after your divorce.

And now, two years later, he was still the same.

On the outside, he looked fine and dandy, but deep inside, he's only a broken husk of a man that he never dared to repair.

He thinks he deserved this as punishment.

But then, in those years, he felt that he needed you to come back.

Yes, he's punishing himself, but he needed you still.

He misses your touch,

Your warmth,

Your care.

Your... Love?

Did you love him?

Or is it out of responsibly?

Bah, he doesn't care.

He loves you, and that was enough.

A knock came from the door and his CFO, and his best friend, Oliver, got inside.

"Here you have it. This week's report of activities of Miss Smith--"

"Mrs. Dragonov."

Oliver sighed.

"yes, Mrs. Dragonov, this is the week's report of Mrs. Dragonov."

Iñigo nodded in satisfaction and waved Oliver goodbye.

He opened the enveloped and his eyes widened. You were back from New Zealand. This was great news! He could talk to you. Maybe coax you into coming back.

Iñigo grabbed his key and opened a door at the back of his office and smiled at the inside. Inside was a perfect replica of your old office when you were still married to him. The only difference is that wall to wall was plastered of your face, taken by his private investigators. On the vanity, which was once in his room, have a picture of you, and your twins with him.

He smirked lazily, sitting down on the chair as he kissed your face on the picture frame.

His stormy dark eyes were bent a bit, his gaze filled with so much longing and regret.

"I'll take back what's mine." He whispered.

"and I'll do everything and use everything at my disposal to get you back." Iñigo declared, looking at his children.

"And I mean everything."

"We need to do this."

"Tsk. Why would I? I'm perfectly capable of myself."

"We both can't deny the fact that they need me. You need me."

".... Okay."

" But in one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to marry me."

You blinked, not getting this absurd situation at all. Marriage again? But why?

Seeing your confused face, Iñigo grabbed your hand gently and squeezed them.

"Sweetheart, you don't want our children to grow up ridiculed, right? What would the people say if they saw our children with no father?" Iñigo started to whisper, coaxing you into seeing his perspective. "I am willing to provide the support you need."

You shook your head.

"But I can provide that myself. I am rich also, so that support means nothing."

Iñigo gritted his teeth and held you tightly once more.

"What will an incomplete family do to our children? Won't they question my absence? Besides, a father is a crucial role one must be filled no matter what. And I'm fully intending to be present at all." He coaxed you, whispering words of promises he wants to fulfil. "There are studies out there that an incomplete family slows down children's development."

He continued to try and let you see his perspective.

"With my influence, nobody can touch you and the children. I promise, I won't be an asshole again and ridicule you. I am so sorry for saying those things." Iñigo whispered as tears filled his eyes. "I regretted all of those. Every single day since you left, I felt like a husk, I know something was wrong, and that I was that something. I hurt someone so precious to me."

Why would he need to dirty his hands when his words and acting skills were enough to persuade you?

Iñigo knelt down, hugging your waist, begging, groveling for you to come back.

And when he saw your resolve crack in front of him, he hid his smirk as he continued to sob in front of you.

His words were working.

Besides, he knows the children were your soft spot.

He was thankful for the existence of your children. If not, he'll probably resort to... Extreme ways just to get you back.

Maybe like, making your company bankrupt with him the only lifeline left.

But now, he held your waist tightly, listening to your words as you gave up trying to fight his logic.

You were his.

And you will continue to be his,

Until death do you part.

[snaillock]

★ video games with your bllk boyfriend

started playing hello kitty island adventure so yeah you can say i’m quite the gamer

y’all would definitely be that couple. you know the ones with the matching users and icons in almost every damn game you play together. lowkey making everyone else gag whenever you two speak in the voice chat. constantly surprising each other with merch of your favorite characters. always doing gacha pulls together.

he never wants to do his daily check-ins without you, even if he has a wait a while for you to get on the game. too many times have you guys accidentally pulled all-nighters because you completely lost track of time. but who really needs to stay fully awake in school when you got shit to play with your amazing boyfriend.

★- NAGI SEISHIRO, ikki niko, otoya eita, hiori yo,

has the worst gamer rage you’ve ever seen holy shit. what you thought was going to be a chill nice hangout with your bf turned into him cursing out an entire lobby. you’ve always known that your boyfriend could have quite the… attitude problem but jesus christ the words that flew out his mouth were truly something else.

even when you two are playing against each other, you ain’t getting a pass just because you’re his lover. he will destroy you. so uh yeah no more mario kart for a while. just relaxing chill games from now on.

though he somehow manages to find a way to make stardew valley an profit driven stressful capitalist hell but he really can’t help it. it’s just in his blood.

★- rin itoshi, isagi yoichi (when he gets really into it), RAICHI JINGO, shidou ryusei

doesn’t really care to play video games but does enjoy watching you play instead. usually sits right next to you on the couch or lays in bed as he watches. he also asks so many questions about the game that it becomes borderline distracting.

“what’s that? hmm ok… so what’s going on exactly?” “who’s that? why are they shooting at you?” “so what’s the goal here? why are you doing that?”

after watching you play for a bit, he becomes an absolute backseat player; nitpicking a wrong move you made, telling you what you should’ve done instead, or criticizing you whenever you lose like he could’ve done any better???

“well if you used your burst right when it was ready, you would’ve gotten all three stars in that chamber.”

“what are you talking about?! i had to explain to you what a burst was five minutes ago.”

though it feels pretty flattering when he does get genuinely impressed by your skills or compliments you on a personal high score you just beat.

★- sae itoshi, kiyora jin, michael kaiser, reo mikage, barou shoei, chigiri hyoma

totally clueless. needs your help since he’s basically new to everything. whenever you two play together, it mostly just ends with you carrying him for every match or so. you do find it quite adorable that he needs your help so often, even if you do have to clean up after him whenever he makes a mistake. he would like to get better but honestly, he doesn’t care since he just enjoys spending time with you.

though you are starting to suspect that he’s purposely staying bad so you could keep carrying him.

“hey, i’m cool with being the support again for this match. it’s just you clear out the other team so well babe.”

★- tokimitsu, nanase, oliver aiku(cheeky ass mf), zantetsu tsurugi, isagi yoichi

please read and respect my byf/dni before reblogging/following

taglist (sign up): @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo @remy-roll @maochira

[astroa3h]

mars through the signs ❤️‍🔥

Mars, that red, raging ball of energy in the sky 🔴, isn’t just about anger 😡 and conflict ⚔️. It’s the engine in our lives, driving our passions, our fights 👊, and those dark, hidden cravings 🖤 we don’t always admit to, even to ourselves.

Aries Mars: Fasten your seatbelt. Mars feels at home here, since it rules Aries. Making you a walking fireball. You're the person who goes after what they want, no holds barred. But here's the twist: this can make you a bit of a bulldozer in life and relationships. Ever felt that thrill from a bit of chaos? That's Aries Mars egging you on, pushing you to start fires just to feel alive. But in the heat of the moment, you might burn bridges you later wish you’d crossed instead.

Taurus Mars: Slow and steady, but when you want something, oh, you’ll get it. The catch? Mars is in detriment here. Meaning your desires come with a string of consequences. You might also find yourself stuck in a loop of wanting things that aren’t good for you, simply because they feel comfortable or fulfill a materialistic void. Ever caught yourself thinking, “Why do I keep doing this?” That’s Taurus Mars, whispering in your ear that change is scary, and comfort zones are there for a reason, even if they're lined with thorns.

Gemini Mars: Ideas, conversations, a quick wit – that’s your jam. But here’s the dark side: an insatiable thirst for newness can lead you to stir the pot, spreading rumors or jumping from one thing (or person) to another, never truly satisfied. It's like you're on a quest for something that always seems just out of reach, leading to a cycle of restless energy that can leave you, and those around you, feeling scattered.

Cancer Mars: Passionate and protective, you fight for your loved ones like a warrior. But that Mars energy? It usually turns inward, becoming moodiness or passive-aggressiveness. Mars feels very uncomfortable here because it’s IN FALL. Ever felt like your emotions are a rollercoaster, swinging from nurturing to spiteful? That’s your Mars in Cancer, a turbulent ocean under a calm surface, sometimes letting those dark waves crash out in unexpected ways.

Leo Mars: A heart of gold, with a flare for the dramatic. You want to be seen, loved and admired. But when the spotlight isn’t on you, Mars can make you a jealous monster, acting out in ways that shock even yourself. Ever done something purely for the drama of it all? That’s Leo Mars, craving attention and sometimes setting the stage on fire just to be the star of the show.

Virgo Mars: Perfectionist much? Mars here drives you to work hard and criticize harder especially yourself. But this can spiral into a dark place where nothing’s ever good enough, leading to anxiety or pointing out flaws in others to deflect from your own insecurities. Ever nitpicked something to death? That’s Virgo Mars, whispering that if you can’t control everything, then everything’s out of control.

Libra Mars: Peace, love, and harmony, right? Well, Mars feels a bit awkward here. Mars is in detriment in Libra. You strive for balance but can become indecisive, avoiding confrontation to the point where resentment builds up. Ever found yourself agreeing just to keep the peace, then seething inside? That’s Libra Mars, wearing a mask of diplomacy while secretly wanting to tip the scales in your favor.

Scorpio Mars: Intense, passionate, with a magnetic allure. You pursue your desires with a focus that can turn obsessive. Ever felt a desire so strong, that it scared you? That’s Scorpio Mars, diving into the depths of desire, where passion can turn into manipulation or power games, revealing the lengths you’ll go to hold onto what, or who, you want.

Sagittarius Mars: Adventure calls, and you’re always chasing the horizon. But that quest for freedom can lead you to run from commitment or responsibilities, leaving a trail of unfinished business. Ever felt trapped by the mundane, itching to escape? That’s Sagittarius Mars, whispering that the grass is always greener somewhere else, even if it means leaping before you look.

Capricorn Mars: Ambition is your middle name. You’re all about goals and success, you feel on top of the world most days because Mars is exalted in Capricorn! However, that drive can turn into obsession, where the end justifies any means. Ever stepped on toes to climb higher, then wondered if it was worth it? That’s Capricorn Mars, urging you to build empires, even if it means isolating yourself on that throne of achievements.

Aquarius Mars: Rebel with a cause, you fight for change and innovation. But sometimes, that fight can become detached, valuing ideals over human connections. Ever pushed for something radical, only to realize you’re standing alone? That’s Aquarius Mars, championing the future but sometimes forgetting that revolutions are fought together, not in isolation.

Pisces Mars: Compassionate and empathetic, you feel the world deeply. But Mars here can lead to escapism, where you avoid confrontation or hard truths through fantasy or self-sabotage. Ever found yourself dreaming of a savior, or using imagination to escape reality? That’s Pisces Mars, swimming in deep waters of desire, where the line between dreams and reality blurs.

xox astro ash ❤️‍🔥

Get your own astrology reading @ astroash.net

TikTok - astroa3h

[mochatsin]

WHEN THE BROTHERS MEET MC’S EX

It’s a fact that you’ve had a previous relationship before you went to Devildom, but due to the nature of the circumstances it didn’t end so well. You never told any of the brothers what really happened until now, so how will they react with this newfound information? Especially when they end up bumping into your ex?

The ex became crazier than I ORIGINALLY intended when I wrote for some of the brothers to make the scenarios unique from each other… that also means some of the break ups and behaviors of the ex are different for each brother… forgive me “T-T !!!

Has some implied abuse but not outright said. Also some mentions of cheating (but not for the brothers dear god). Pls skip if it's not your cup of tea!! As always, thank you for reading.

------------

Lucifer

He knows about the fact you had a previous lover before, but it was not in his nature to pry. Hearing Asmo wonder out loud “aren’t you a little curious what happened in their previous relationship though?” Lucifer doesn’t want to admit that he does want to know. But it’s your story to tell after all.

Lucifer is confident in his looks and how he presents himself. He’s well-mannered, he’s intelligent, and he’s the Avatar of Pride so what could you have seen in anyone other than– okay, maybe Lucifer may be too curious for his own good. But his Pride would not allow him to be vocal about it. 

There was a time that you came home from RAD seemingly upset and shaken up. He helps you relax enough until you are calm enough to at least tell him what was wrong. You tell him that your ex has been bothering you lately, trying to get your attention for god knows what reason. 

This opens up the conversation Lucifer was waiting for, but it’s not exactly what he was expecting. You told him how you had to break the relationship because your ex became too manipulative and nitpicked every single thing that you did. It became too toxic.

Hearing this made Lucifer think back to all his actions towards his brothers and to you, where he demands everything to the last detail. He never wanted you to feel suffocated around him, he didn’t want to seem too controlling.

The last thing Lucifer wants for himself to remind you of your ex. He wants to practice healthy communications with you, where you can give him a sign if he’s getting too much or something is starting to trigger you. Your comfort is more important right now, and he’d hate to be the cause of your tears. 

He’s tempted to go through your profile case to find the name of your ex and hunt him down personally. Maybe chain him up in the dungeons for days to be Lucifer’s new stress relief outlet until they beg for mercy. But he won’t because it’s your personal life and he doesn’t want to interfere.

When you two bump into your ex while you were out together, his eyes narrowed at the sight of this pathetic human that made his precious MC’s life awful. ‘I want to show them what living hell really feels like… I want to break them in all aspects possible…’ Is a thought running rampant in his mind. 

He brings you close to him, an arm holding your waist as he turns to your ex “No matter the reason, it will not excuse interrupting our leisure time. Your previous transgressions already warrant a punishment. Now run home, while you still can.” He says, a voice so commanding yet foreboding. The dark aura looming around the skies is already a death threat in itself. Your ex is leaving without another word.

The skies cleared and Lucifer turned to you with a soft look, before pressing a kiss on your forehead. He checks if you felt shaken up from the experience and if you were, he’ll hold you close as you both go home while he whispers soothing words by your ear.

He’ll treat you like royalty, basically in second place after Asmo when it comes to pampering you. Lucifer wants to do everything to make you forget that scary experience and if you let him, he’ll personally handle all affairs regarding your ex.

“MC… please believe me when I say that you’re precious. You should never have to go through something like that again, I’ll make sure you’re always safe and happy everyday” He says, placing a kiss on your hand and cheek before pulling you in for an embrace.

After that incident, he makes sure your ex has no way of contacting you ever again for whatever reason. If only he could, he would’ve locked the bastard in the castle dungeons and performed any punishment he saw fit. He’ll eliminate anything and anyone that causes you pain or distress. 

Your ex better watch their back soon. Because it’s always as if the shadows are moving despite nothing being there. There’s always an extra pair of footsteps that can be heard even though they’re alone when walking home. Red eyes glaring at them from the distance before disappearing in a blink. The paranoia that something is watching them would drive them crazy, but the real miracle is if they’d ever make it home without a scratch. 

Mammon

Mammon didn’t take it well when he learned that there was someone else before him that won your heart. He’s supposed to be your first in everything after all! So he may have been a little bit pouty but it didn’t take much to cheer him up again. Just a little bit of affection got him back on his feet. 

He was curious to know who this someone must’ve been to win your affections before the Great Mammon himself, because it was only fair to assume there must’ve been something special about this person right? 

He was quite insistent on it but he respects it when you want to keep it to yourself. Mammon was quite tempted to go through Lucifer’s office to perhaps look at your file, but he doesn’t want to upset you if you found out his attempts to learn more about your personal life behind your back. 

One day he finds you looking pretty upset and as much as you try to hide it, Mammon knows you the best out of all the brothers so he’s not letting you off the hook until you tell him what’s wrong. He needs to know so he can think of how to cheer you up.

You eventually give in and tell him that your ex has been bothering you lately. You told Mammon about how your ex practically ran off with some of your things, ditching you in the dust. Now they’re back but you don’t want anything to do with them, because you’re sure they’re just going to take from you again if you give them a chance to hear them out.

Mammon’s thoughts went a thousand miles per second as you told your story. First, he can’t believe for a second that he envied this asshole! Second, he started to feel the worry that his poor behavior might make you remember your ex. 

He holds you close and tries his best to reassure you that he won’t let your ex even get away with a single dime from you. “If they try to even look at ya I’m gonna have to start chargin’ a fee! They can’t touch the valuables yknow?” And that was enough to cheer you up, even a little.

Mammon is practically glued to you everywhere you go just to make sure you’re doing okay. If you thought he was overprotective before, prepare to be proven wrong. On times that Mammon isn’t with you, there’s always a crow circling around the area around you instead. 

Mammon is extra vigilant of your things after he learned what happened. No one is ever stealing from you again because your treasure is his treasure now. At some point he tried to pick a fight with a classmate that just wanted to borrow your eraser… his heart is in the right place though!

When you two bump into your ex, Mammon gets the first word in the conversation. “Listen here ya piece of shit, if you ever think of bothering my MC again you better start sleeping with one eye open. There’s gonna be a bounty on your head when I'm through with you.” You practically had to hold him back from hitting your ex personally and causing a scene.

When your ex tries to butt in and talk to you, Mammon blocks you from their view “Lost your chance buddy, now go and scram unless you wanna gamble how many teeth will be left of ya once we’re done.” If anyone knows one thing, it’s to not accept a bet made by Mammon himself. There’s not a gamble he made that he didn’t win. 

As soon as they left, Mammon grabs your hand and leads you away as if you both are on the run. “Come on! Before that loser changes their mind, let’s high tail outta here!” He says with a flashy grin. 

Mammon spends the day trying to make you smile again. “Don’t worry about spending a dime, i snagged us some spare change” He says, holding up the wallet he stole from your ex during that confrontation. In his defense, if your ex stole from you then he might as well get even, right? 

He’s definitely not through with your ex now that he’s seen their face. With enough determination and patience from the fourth born, Mammon learned a specific curse for your ex. Now every time they’d need money for something, their wallet would always run short on cash. There’s never going to be enough money, but for some reason they always want more. Well, that’s the Avatar of Greed for you. 

Where does the money go? To Mammon’s pocket of course! Satan was wary of encouraging this bad habit of his brother by letting him have more money but after learning who this victim is? Say no more. That’ll show em to never steal from his human ever again. 

Levi

It didn’t sit well with Levi that you used to date someone else before. The idea that you gave your heart away to another person before Levi fills him with this twang of jealousy. Though he’s the Avatar of Envy so that’s to be expected. 

He doesn’t want to admit that in front of you though, so sometimes he starts talking to his goldfish to cope with it. Levi gets nervous and wonders what could have possibly happened in your previous relationship that made you end it. He’s scared that maybe he’s worse off than your ex or does the same thing. What if he’s already deep waters without realizing?!

It takes a while for him to build up the courage to ask you about it without his envy or anxiety getting in the way of making himself upset and backing out. He wants to know more about you after all, and that includes this. 

You talk about our old ex and how they were terrible to you. You found out that your ex cheated on you and it really did a number on your self-esteem, but you were better at masking that than Levi.

Levi felt awful for making you remember these memories, but at the same time he’s also pissed. How could anyone decide that you weren’t enough to the point they’d replace you? The idea of it is repulsive. He doesn’t even feel like he deserves you himself! Yet your ex had the chance to cherish someone as amazing as you and threw it all away. 

He’d wrap his arms and legs around you, feeling himself about to cry just thinking about how painful that must’ve been. “I-i don’t even know what to say but… I’d never hurt you like that. I’m sorry MC…” 

His empathy for you is enough to cheer you up and Levi spends the rest of the night trying to make you forget about your ex by letting you pick the games or shows to watch in his room. Though a part of him wants to go through the web and look for the bastard. 

Levi may be an anxious sweetheart, but he’s not the kind that would let someone who made you feel so low just run carefree. He’s a demon too, you know? so hacking into your ex’s online accounts and sabotaging them is not something out of his book. He could freeze their assets if he tried hard enough.

When you two end up running into them, Levi could hardly contain himself. Usually he would be the one cowering behind you whenever there are strangers he’s never met, but this time he put himself in between you two. 

“Even though I'm just an otaku, at least I could tell when something is rare and valuable. I bet a normie like you can’t understand that, seeing how you let go of someone as precious as MC.” Levi hissed, fangs threatening to bare at this scum until your ex finally decides to back off. 

Levi keeps his eyes narrowed at your ex until they disappear from sight. His glare is enough to convey that if the ex ever tries to turn around and take a step forward, Levi will have to do something about it. Once he’s sure that the ex is shaky out of sight, he finally lets out the breath he never knew he was holding in his lungs before he checks up on you. 

“I-i know that I'm not the best at a lot of things. Not looks… or sports… o-or studies. But I want to be someone who’s worthy of you!” Levi says, determination in his tone despite the constant stuttering.

To an otaku, you’re one of the rarest collectibles Levi has ever had the luxury of having, and he wants to prove that to the world! He won’t allow anyone to see you any less than that. One day he’ll make an entire powerpoint and show it off to the entire House of Lamentation titled ‘100 Reasons Why MC is the Best’

Your ex should be careful in entering any sort of body of water, especially the ocean. Who knows? Lotan might be looking for the perfect bite-sized meal soon. 

Satan

Satan learned your tells whenever you seem to flinch around people raising their voices. It happens a lot in a house full of rowdy brothers, but he sensed it more whenever there’s a serious fight and you’re around. So he tries to get you out of the mess as quickly as he could.

When you two got closer, you eventually told him about your ex that didn’t exactly… treat you right. Satan listened to every word, his full attention focused on how hurt you sounded and he doesn’t push the topic any further than you’re comfortable with. 

He lets you share what you only want to share, and he won’t pry on the details on what your ex may have done. With or without your explanation, to him it’s quite obvious what exactly your ex made you go through. “You don’t have to say anything more… I heard you loud and clear.”

Despite being Wrath, he tries putting in more self-control because he doesn’t want to accidentally scare you off. You even have special permission to use your pact against Satan should his anger go too far. The last thing he wants is to make you feel afraid instead of loved. 

But that self-control is not extended if he finds any demon hurting you, not even his brother’s are spared from his wrath (but it’s not like they’d hurt you on purpose anyways). He’ll make a protective spell that makes any demon who wants to cause you harm feel like they’ve held the hottest hellfire the moment they touch you. 

Satan was tempted to just go find the bastard himself and make them feel all the pain they made you go through tenfold. He’s not Wrath for no reason. But he doesn’t want to do anything without your discretion, since you trusted him with this broken and vulnerable part of you, then he shouldn’t abuse that trust.

On the day that you both bump into your ex, his gentle facade that he keeps up in front of anyone is gone. Molded into a sour expression full of hate. You could practically feel his wrath burning through your pact. 

“Let’s go MC, this pest is not worth our time.” His words are full of venom as he holds your hand firmly to guide you away from your ex, aggressively bumping his shoulder against them with a force that would have knocked them over. All he wants is to get you out of this situation, fast. 

When the ex tries to grab you to force you to stay, Satan is already putting you behind him protectively with his hand gripping them by the wrist. He really wants to tear them to ribbons for that but the only reason he doesn’t is because you’re here. He doesn’t want you to see that part of him.

His fangs are practically bared, ready to bite as he growls “Unless you want to go to bed with the same number of fingers that you woke up with today… Don’t. Touch. Them.” The hate and anger in his eyes are burning as he stares down at your ex.  

His threats are as clear as his grip on your ex’s wrist starts to get uncomfortably tight, it may leave a bruise as he lets go and that mark hopefully reminds them of his warnings. You watch as your ex scrambles for their life while they still have it. 

Satan had to take in shaky breaths, wanting to calm down from the heights of his anger. He wished he had an outlet, he wanted to draw blood so badly but he can’t let his anger take him too far or you’d have to deal with the aftermath. You need to be taken care of right now, so he does that as soon as he’s collected himself.

“When I'm with you, my wrath… It feels like it finally has a purpose. I want to use all of it to protect you. I won’t spare a single soul that hurts you, my angel” Satan promised, placing a kiss on your head as he held you close to his chest. 

Satan spends the night letting you lie down on his lap as he reads you some romantic poetry, ones that could properly convey how much he loves and cherishes you through words. He would occasionally run his fingers through your hair as he reads through the pages, and he’ll keep doing this until you fall asleep by his side.  

Now that he’s seen what the ex looks like, expect him to ruin their life. He won’t torture them (unless you were open to that suggestion-), but he makes it part of his nightly routine to place a curse on your ex to make their life insufferable. After all, Satan has been looking for a lab rat to test the hexes he wanted to use on Lucifer, and it seems he finally has one at his disposal. 

Asmo  

Asmo is very touchy and one thing he loves is a lot of intimacy in all forms. That includes physical. He’s used to showing these by hugging his brothers, but it made him confused when he didn’t get the reaction he wanted when he hugged you from behind. 

He’s a master at reading social cues so he immediately knows that you’re not okay. Did he hug you too tightly? Are you hurt somewhere? Asmo would whine and press you for answers normally, but he doesn’t this time. 

Asmo tried to get some gossip, wondering if something’s been bothering you lately. He loves how mysterious you can be, but this is the first he’s ever felt this frustrated not knowing enough about you! Not even the brothers knew what was wrong!

Asmo basically caves in one night during his skincare routines with you when he finally asks the question. “Love… no matter how much you try to hide it, I can tell something’s wrong.” He says with a hush tone as he applies a soft toner on your skin, looking at you with puppy eyes.

Even when he’s incredibly narcissistic, Asmo can be incredibly perceptive out of the brothers. He knows something’s bothering you, but he was not prepared to hear the story at all. 

You told Asmo that your ex has been bothering you lately, trying to get in contact with you constantly no matter how many times you tell them no. You explained that your ex called you several names before in the past and has treated you… awfully. You had to endure so much until you escaped that relationship. 

Asmo is probably crying more than you are at this point, ruining the skincare he carefully applied on himself with his tears. “How could anyone just… treat you that way? Do people not realize how lucky they are to have you?” He says between sobs, asking you for permission first before he hugs you.

He’s toned down his tackle hugs so he’d scare you less and take things at your pace. Asmo is happy enough to take it slow if it means you’d feel more comfortable with him. 

Though he’s less forgiving if any demon would look at you the wrong way. Asmo wants everyone to see how you’re the most precious gem in his realm and nothing lower than that. If he hears one bad remark from someone at the club or in school, Asmo will definitely make them squirm under his heel for forgiveness. 

When you both run into your ex, Asmo eyes them up and down. You know that Asmo doesn’t like looking at things he finds disgusting, and he gives off that exact expression when his eyes linger for even a single second in your ex’s direction. The judgment is evident in Asmo’s eyes, he didn’t even need to speak a single word to make it known. 

“I must say darling, your tastes really had a glow up now that I’m looking at that thing. I mean after seeing me, you’d agree, wouldn't you?” He says with his usual playful tone despite being so passive aggressive, subtly trying to lead you away from the ex.  

When they try to get closer, Asmo quickly shoots them a glare. His golden eyes have this particular glow in them as he speaks in an enchanting voice “Would you be a lad and go back to where you came from? Trash like you should walk back to the nearest dumpster, don’t you think so?” 

The mischievous grin in his face rivals the Anti-Lucifer league on the chances their pranks are successful as Asmo watches your ex obey under the influence of his hypnotic charms and run off to who knows where. 

“Ugh, I hate hate HATE looking at unsightly things! Did you see how they look?!” Asmo would whine on the way back home, his words judging every single aspect of your ex from the way their hair is fixed to even the slightest speck of dirt on their nails. He’d complain all the way back home how your ex is the epitome of revolting imperfection compared to himself. 

“You have to make it up for me, love. My eyes need to be cleansed! we’re doing a little fashion show in my room so i can stare at your cute little face all day!” There didn’t seem to be any room to say no, but you agreed anyways after all that Asmo has done for you today. 

He’ll spend the entire night trying to show off your good sides, which is all of it. If he can spend an entire trip home downgrading and judging your ex to the bone, Asmo will happily spend the last few hours of the day telling you what makes you so perfect in his eyes. 

Beel

Beel would be lying if he says he doesn’t feel bothered about your ex. It’s not a matter of you dating someone before, but it’s more of why you’re not telling him anything  about your past. 

Beel wanted to know more about you so he decided to ask Asmo if he had any gossip about you and your life, but to his surprise Asmo didn’t know anything. At some point he asked Lucifer if he read anything about it in your profile, but the oldest born just shakes his head and tells him to ask you personally instead. 

It’s perfect timing because as soon as he leaves Lucifer’s office, he finds you in the hallway and runs up to finally ask you himself. “I just… wanted to know more about you MC, even if it’s about that. It’s still part of you.” He sounds like a child asking for more allowance money to buy some candy.

You both go into your room and you explain why you never bring this up. Your ex always made you feel insignificant during the last few months of your relationship. You’re always neglected, never the priority, and it took a lot of courage for you to leave. Even when you did, your ex made it seem like you’re the one at fault. 

Beel can never understand how anyone could make you feel so small like this… have you always felt this way? Beel is not going to allow that. He wants you to make you his priority. You’re the person that helped fix his family, there’s no way he’s going to let you look down on yourself. 

You suddenly can’t feel the floor beneath your feet and in the blink of an eye, Beel lifts you up in his hands without a sweat. He stares at you with a small hum before lifting you even higher. You look at him, confused about what he’s trying to do until he speaks. “You know that I look up to you, for everything you’ve done for us here. I’ll make sure that no one ever looks down on you again, MC.”

When he says he looks up at you and how he quite literally means it with how high up he’s carrying you, it makes you laugh a little at how silly Beel can be sometimes. Seeing you smile again is enough for him to set you down on your feet and cuddle you for the next hour. 

Congratulations because you just won your own personal guard dog. No matter where you go, there’s always going to be the orange haired cuddly giant behind you. You had to reassure him that you’re going to be fine on your own and hope things would go back to normal. But you learn that not even bribing him with food can get him off your back.

When you both bump into your ex, Beel is immediately towering over them. His freakish height and his muscles as he looks down at your ex is enough to make anyone feel small under his threatening gaze. “Leave.”

Beel is the only thing that’s in between you and your ex. Your ex tried to make Beel budge but he barely moved an inch. It was the equivalent of trying to push against a brick wall at this point, the effort was futile and it just made Beel angrier. 

“I was being nice when I said leave. But I won’t ask a second time.” You can hear the faint sounds of buzzing, knowing how much self-control it’s taking Beel right now to avoid summoning a swarm of flies and locusts. It would be troublesome if Beel lets loose and shows the world why he’s given the title as the Lord of the Flies.

You tell Beel that you want to go home, and he immediately listens to you. With a small nod, he escorts you back while still keeping his eye on your ex in case they do anything funny. It’s all thanks to Beel’s kind heart and his love for you that prevented any sort of bloodshed tonight. 

Beel would take a small detour back and buy you some of your favorite sweets to bring home so you both can share it together in your room. Though the treats never made it back and is nothing but an empty container before you can even see the house in view. Regardless you still had a nice night eating the treats with him on the way.

You noticed the few glances Beel has been sending your way and before you can ask what he’s looking at, he places a quick peck on your cheek “You always look the best when you smile” 

Your ex better pray that they don’t bump into Beel in the middle of the streets because the moment this lovable demon spots them, there’s going to be some impromptu target practice with your ex and the closest table Beel can grab his hands on. 

Belphie

Belphie may be spoiled, but he knows his boundaries when it comes to teasing you about your previous relationships. You told him you’re not ready to talk about it, and he backed off immediately. He may poke fun about a lot of things when it comes to you, but his aim is always to make you laugh and never to upset you. 

He eventually finds out the truth when you were sleeping in the living room one day and he finds you. Just as he was going to join you, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing like crazy. Belphie was irritated, wondering if it was Mammon annoying you again. 

He never really meant to snoop on your phone, he simply just wanted to turn it on silent mode so you sleep peacefully. But then he saw the various texts from an unknown number trying to demand your attention and calling you names. 

Belphie was so tempted to give this person a piece of his mind, but you woke up and caught him reading the messages. He looks surprised, and that expression immediately turns to guilt as he puts away the phone “MC? I-i didn’t mean to, I swear! But… Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

You can clearly see how worried Belphie looks, so you talk about your previous relationship and how your ex is trying to contact you despite how many times you’ve blocked their number already. You don’t know what they want, but it’s clearly not good. You try to ignore it, but Belphie can see how much it’s bothering you. 

“MC… I never knew…” Belphie says looking down. He still looks guilty, but it’s about something else entirely. He regrets those times he lied to you back when he was still locked up in the attic. He hates himself for doing something so horrible, especially now after knowing what you’ve been through. 

“I… I don’t deserve you honestly but… I want you to be happy, and I want to be the person who puts a smile on your face. Thank you for giving me that chance…” He says, giving you a small hug while secretly grabbing your phone. 

Belphie secretly switches the number so that your ex would be bothering someone else. Maybe with Mammon’s instead so that poor soul would have an earful each time they try to text until they get the message that it’s not you they’re texting anymore. He would’ve done it himself but… he is quite lazy. His older brothers can handle it.

When you both bump into your ex, Belphie looks at them with bored eyes. “Ugh… it’s you” He says, pulling you further away from that person’s reach. “Listen, stop bothering MC… or I’ll make you regret it the next time your dimwit skull tries to send them another text.” His last words were hissed through grit teeth. He may not look so intimidating at first, but he’s not as kind as he may seem. 

The moment your ex tries to send you another message, Belphie already had a curse activated. Any time they try to go to bed, they’re never going to meet the sweet slumber they need. Nighttime is always spent restlessly moving around the bed, trying to get some shut eye. They’re already exhausted by daybreak, and the cycle goes on. 

For the times they do end up falling asleep after passing out of exhaustion, they’re met with awful nightmares orchestrated by Belphie himself. Terrors and apparitions, making your ex feel endless fear for scaring you the past few days with his messages. Belphie is enjoying himself in this shared dreamscape as he watches your ex writhe helplessly. Beel noticed his twin always smiling in his sleep, unaware of how much the youngest is having fun torturing your ex from hell and back.  

Belphie swore to never let your enemies rest as long as he’s around. He’ll see to it that his promise is fulfilled. For now, he’ll pamper you and give you the best dreams so you can feel refreshed and relaxed each day before he goes back to his daily visit in your ex’s dreamscapes to haunt him until this poor soul learned his lesson. 

[erwinsvow]

so now i can’t stop thinking about a whole other price story where you’re just a shy temp secretary who gets moved around from place to place as needed—mostly for various sick days and holidays but the occasional maternity leave or something along those lines—and somehow you’ve ended up as captain price’s new temporary secretary. you have to keep reminding yourself it’s temporary because you honestly don’t know how much more of this you can take—it’s constantly just piles of paperwork and being barked at every time you mess up something small (you’re still new! and a temp! it’s not your fault!) but sticking it out because you are not a quitter.

(you’re helpless for his approval—your blood rushes everytime you think you’re close to getting it before he leaves you hanging, and you cannot stop until you’ve gotten it.)

the other temps talk about all the cute soldiers when you guys all take your lunch together but when the conversation comes to you and price—he’s yours by default, always grouped together, they always ask how yours is and maybe yours will lighten up soon and it makes your brain a little muddled to think of him that way—but when the conversation gets to you, you go silent. it’s not unusual, you’re always silent, even when price is showing you something else you’ve messed up, your brain rattles with a defense but you just mumble an apology before fixing whatever it is.

you go silent because one of the girls has made a joke—maybe you need to help him lighten up—said with a laugh and followed by giggles, the others insisting it would be worth it for you, “you just know he’s good at it, he has to be,” and “then he’ll be in a good mood, it’s a win-win” and then suddenly lunch is over and you’re back at your desk, face warm and something inside of you on fire at the very thought. it’s so wrong! he’s your boss, your temporary boss. and he hates you, you’re sure of it, with the way he’s always finding something to nitpick.

and then another thought comes over you, pulls you neck first into its grip. maybe he’d be nicer. you don’t want to be this way, but it’s engrained in you, you need to please, to make sure he’s happy with you, make sure you’re doing good. hell, you’d probably get better at your job if you just got that much validation from him.

so you get up, not even ten minutes after you’ve come back from lunch, knock on the captain’s door and open it even before you’ve got permission to enter, stare at the man who has been stressing you out like no other, and start to undress.

[gtgbabie0]

hiii, so i have a request, i keep thinking about how hard it was for spencer reid in high school and growing up cause he didn’t have any friends and the only person he could rely on was his mom who wasn’t very stable😭so i wanted a fic where the reader and spencer a best friends but he’s in love with her and it’s in the first seasons, and the reader just kind of brings up how brave he is and comforts him and he’s just overwhelmed because no one actually paid attention to that and confesses to her and they kiss and stuff<33 btw i love your work and how you write🫶🏻

-Spencer Reid x Reader

{Friends to lovers with Spencer}

Sorry, this took forever my love! College has been keeping me very busy. This request made me so soft pls I love him sm!! I hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It is late into the night when Spencer calls you, the thought of staying home alone is far too daunting for him to handle tonight and without a single complaint, you pack a small bag together and drive to his apartment.

Spencer still, after all these years of friendship can’t believe you always come all the way over to his place just for him, without expecting anything in return. You can tell by the look that paints his face when he opens the door, just how he’s taken back he is as you offer him a warm smile.

“I’m sorry I- I just. I couldn’t do it” he tries to explain, as if he needs to justify his reason for calling you. He struggles to find the right words to perfectly describe how he’s feeling right now, the odd ache that captures his chest entirely, a feeling that seeps into his bones and leaves him unsettled.

He closes the door behind you, locking it, as you drop your bag on the wooden floor next to his shoes, “It’s okay Spence, honestly. I don’t mind you know that” You smile at him, a sweet sight that melts his heart.

You’ve always been so kind to him something that Spencer didn’t think was reserved for him, for whatever reason. He was used to it and as horrible as that sounds it’s the truth. He’s used to people's unkind opinions about him, how they always seem to nitpick at his insecurities. That was his life growing up, especially in school.

Then he met you, incredible, beautiful you who left him star-struck. Spencer wasn’t used to having someone like you in his life, someone who always seemed to put him first and cared about him with this unconditional affection, and it often led him to feel as if it were some kind of joke that he wasn’t in on.

However, he quickly learned that that was far from the truth. It was the first night he opened up about his mother and in return you gave him your shoulder to cry on without any kind of judgement, Spencer practically felt all his walls crumble and in their wake came a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was safety, you made him feel safe.

You look over at him noticing the way his eyes glisten with tears and you can’t help the blocky feeling that wedges itself in the back of your throat, you open your arms out to him, an offer he wouldn’t ever turn down.

Spencer wraps his arms around you tightly as if you might disappear into thin air. He lets his head fall upon your shoulder, a deep sigh escaping him as your hands soothe against his back. You’ve always had a way of making him feel completely at peace, despite the seemingly permanent stress cloud that hangs above him recently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You whisper as he sniffles against you, his shoulders shake beneath your hold ever so slightly and it causes a sudden pain to seize your heart, the type that has your chest tightening.

He takes a moment to ponder your question, “Maybe later? I just- it’s been a long week” he mumbles against your shoulder and in return you whisper a small ‘okay’ and Spencer sighs with relief, forever thankful for your patience.

The pair of you soon find yourselves sitting on his loveseat, empty take-out boxes sitting on the coffee table as Spencer is completely engrossed with the way you colour in your colouring book, in all honesty, Spencer could study you for hours and never find himself bored.

“It looks really good” he comments with a hushed tone as he closes the book he was reading, although he hadn’t even finished the first sentence let alone the chapter, far too enchanted by how you add vitality to the once colourless page, bringing the drawing of the Dolphins to life.

You look up at him with a bright smile through very tired eyes, “Thank you, Spence. Dolphins really are beautiful creatures” you state and he hums in agreement as you continue to shade them with a darker blue, a small yawn escaping you.

A certain peace blankets over the pair of you and it’s as if nothing outside of his apartment matters. The clarity allows Spencer's mind to drift, thinking about what it would be like to be with you, to come home to you, sleep next to you. He wonders if you’ll stay even though the nights where he all does is toss and turn if you’ll keep the nightmares at bay. He loses himself in what life would be like with you, a recurring thought.

“Penny for your thoughts sir?” You giggle, noticing the way he seems so deep in thought.

He clears his throat, racking his brain for a fact about dolphins but it’s hard when he’s so focused on you, “Oh umm-” he frowns before finally, the words began to fall effortlessly from his lips.

“Did you know, Dolphins have more brain capacity than humans, Their brains weigh 1600 grams to our 1300 grams. Dolphin brains also have a complex neocortex, which is the part of the brain that allows you to be self-aware and solve problems.” He lists off as if it were as easy as breathing and to Spencer it is.

He watches with pride blooming through his chest as your eyebrows lift with shock, “I actually didn’t know that, I suppose they don’t have anything on your IQ of 187 though” You smile, putting away your colouring book as you rub at your sleepy eyes.

“That and I guess it has something to do with me being human” he chuckles, helping you put away all of your many felt tips.

Spencer looks over at the clock, guilt immediately seeping into his heart. It’s gone past twelve am and he knows you have work tomorrow, it was selfish of him to ruin your sleep schedule just because he had a bad day, and just like that, he finds himself deep within his own self-sabotage.

It’s almost annoying how quickly you pick up on it, “You are just human Spencer, I think you forget that sometimes” You smile kindly at him, reaching for his hand and his breath hitches slightly at the sudden warmth.

“I’m sorry for keeping you so long” he whispers, fiddling with the loose thread of his sweater, “You’ve got work tomorrow and I kept you here I just-” You don’t give him time to continue, knowing it’ll just end up with him talking poorly about himself.

“-Spencer, I can just call in sick but that’s not the point, I’m here because you needed me and I’ll be here for however long you want,” you tell him, squeezing his hand slightly as you brush your thumb over his knuckles.

He doesn’t know what to say or do, his mind rushes with so many words he wants to say, yet all of them seem to be stuck in a ball in the back of his throat.

“What- what if I- what if I need you forever?” He whispers, eyes not daring to glance at yours the fear of rejection still captures him even if he knows that you would go to the ends of the world for him.

“Then I’ll be here forever silly,” you tell him, inching closer to him.

Spencer thinks his heart might just burst out of his chest, years of emotions building up inside him and despite everything he’s seen and been through this might just be the scariest feeling he’s ever felt.

“What is it?” You whisper, and he looks at you with so much emotion in his eyes it’s hard for you to read.

“I’m scared” his voice quivers as he bites back the tears that cling to his eyes, rubbing them away before they have time to fall, “What if I can’t do this?”

It's the truth he's terrified of loving you for so many reasons, he could sit there for hours listing them off, but they all seem to boil down to the thought of losing you, his solace in the crazy world.

Your eyebrows thread together as you move closer to him, you don’t really know what he means.

“Spencer Reid, you are the bravest person I know. I mean you’ve been through so much Spence and despite that, you’re still so selfless” you tell him, wiping away his tears with your sleeve.

Spencer knows he loves you, he’s known for a very long time, and now sitting here with you as you pour your heart out his feelings only triple. You're so close he can sense your body heat radiating off of you, and with the sudden closeness comes that all too familiar sickly feeling that spreads through his chest.

“Whatever it is you’re scared to do, I’ll be here through it all”

You smile when he finally looks up at you, forehead resting against your own as both your hearts pick up in pace. The butterflies in his stomach are all too prominent because, goodness you're so close to him, and he can feel your gentle breath fanning along his cheek.

His nose brushes against yours as you press your lips to his own, his tears wetting your own face, completely overcome with emotions as he leans into you chasing after your warmth as he kisses you back, something that surprisingly comes so easy to him.

“I love you in ways that terrify me” he whispers against you as you brush his hair away from his eyes, “I’ve loved you for a very long time” he confesses with a shaky sigh.

“Spencer-” you can’t help but let out a breathy giggle, “I love you too” and it doesn’t take long for you to kiss him again, excitement snuffing out the doubt in his mind. You both smile against each other's lips, the kiss breaking as you do so.

His heart has never felt so full before, content as you rest against him. Just as it should be.

“Can I ask you something?” You wonder, sitting up slightly as he nods with a small ‘Anything’

“How long?” You chuckle when he blushes, his cheeks adorned with a deep red colour.

“Longer than I care to admit” he whispers clearing his throat.

“So- how long is that?” Ah yes, you and your persistence.

“Since we were seventeen” he whispers so quietly that you can barely even hear him, and if you weren’t sitting so close you don’t think you would have heard him.

“Seventeen?” You ask as he nods, solidifying his answer and, if he’s completely honest, he doesn’t want to know your answer but yet that doesn’t stop him from asking, ‘What about you?’

You feel your face heat up dropping your head to his shoulder as you mumble a quiet, ‘Fourteen’ Your answer confuses him as he tilts his head slightly to try and look at you.

“Fourteen? We didn’t even know ea-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you run off into the bathroom excusing yourself as he holds back a chuckle.

He decides to let it go for now, you can’t exactly hide in the bathroom forever and he knows he’s got a long time to talk to you about it so for now he’ll bask in this prideful feeling, knowing he’s been the one to hold your heart for years and many more to come.

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[arliedraws]

Ok so I need your opinion on the "Sirius black was always different and was abused from the very beggining" thing because after thinking about the canon Sirius and Walburga it made me think that Sirius probably used to be Walburga's biggest pride and joy because he was a perfect son in her eyes but their relationship started getting worse after he miraculously became a Gryff.

It just fits, you know? Regulus always sounded like a quiet child, someone often overlooked while Sirius is loud, opinionated and hard to control. And Walburga sounds exactly the same.

There is no way she wouldn't love a child that is her copy, someone she saw as the perfect future heir. Because he //was// perfect.

But then he became a Gryff and mayby she still believed things would stay the same but then Sirius came home for the holidays and he was- different. Yeah, he was still loud and proud but he started asking questions that neither Walburga nor Orion liked. They humanized mudbloods!

After that I think the relationship just became more and more toxic until Sirius couldn't stay anymore in the house he used to love, with people he used to (and mayby still) love.

Mayby that's why Walburga hated her oldest so much even as a portrait. Sirius was supposed to be //the best//, he was supposed to be //perfect//. And yet here he is, broken and a shell of his perfect little boy, used, chewed up and discarded when he was no longer needed

What do you think?

First off, I’m going to be really careful about how we define abuse here. I agree to a certain extent, but I think we need to consider that what we know to be emotional and physical neglect/abuse today is very different from 1960s-1970s child-rearing. The Blacks were an exceptionally traditional magical family, and their behaviors towards their children would have reflected this.

I think Mrs. Black loved Sirius more than Regulus, and I imagine her expectations for Sirius were much higher. “Sit up straight, do this, do that, don’t do that,” etc. Critiquing, nitpicking, criticizing. Today, I doubt we would tolerate this sort of behavior from a parent, but I think this would have been very normal in their society. After all, you show your child how much you love them by turning them into the very best version of them, right? Right???

Regulus was a jealous, sycophantic little slug. I think he would have tried to get Sirius in trouble whenever he could, but no one likes a snitch, particularly not Mrs. Black. But it’s easy to pit siblings against each other, and Mrs. Black would have used this to her advantage: “Oh, Sirius, look how refined your brother is. Do you see him speaking out of turn? Do you see how he obeys his mother?”

I also headcanon that Mrs. Black used magic to teach lessons. In a fic, I have Sirius relate an anecdote from childhood where he repeatedly talks out of turn and Mrs. Black uses a Silencing charm on him to shut him up for a few days—a gentle punishment in her eyes and a vital life lesson, but really traumatizing for a child. Again, this is abuse, and perhaps other traditional families would see it as extreme, but I don’t think anyone would express concern or find it particularly troubling. (James would be horrified, though, of course.)

As Sirius drifts further and further away from his family, however, Mrs. Black becomes increasingly desperate to keep her son in line. They eventually dissolve into constant fighting until Sirius can’t take it anymore and runs away (or this scenario).

A lot of folks think that pain and hatred is the foundation of abuse, but really, it’s often love. Growing up in an environment where you are never good enough, where your parents are constantly criticizing who you are and how to improve is an incredibly damaging and traumatizing way to grow up. Imagine being told that you are better than everyone else but you are still not good enough. Your everyday actions—speaking, eating, just sitting there—could be something you’re doing wrong. Imagine just trying to fucking eat and your mother barks at you that you’re holding your knife and fork wrong. Or that the order in which you’re eating is wrong. Or that you’re making too much eye contact or not enough or that you can’t speak until an adult addresses you. Not because she hates you, but because she loves you.

Anyway, is it abuse? Yeah. Would Sirius have considered it abuse? I’m not so sure, but I’m not sure he would recognize it as love (why would he?). However, Mrs. Black definitely saw her parenting as love, and she would see him running away as taking her love and throwing it all away for nothing. Let’s be honest, I think she always hoped Sirius would come back to her, and it drove her mad that he never did.

Oh, and yeah, Sirius definitely loved his family. He was constantly rejected and belittled, and I think he hated himself for wanting their approval deep down (even though he would NEVER admit it and never do anything to get it). This is what can be so hard for children who come from emotionally abusive families—at some point, it’s still your mom, and you want her to love you, but you fucking hate that you want it.

[ayanominitrash]

Dowdy Dowdy (Naoya Zenin x reader)

I first posted this on Ao3 here.

"I'm here to talk to Naoya-senpai." You say, hands behind your back while staring at the ground. You can't stop the heat coming from your cheeks, coupled with your beating heart. "My next words are for him and him only." "Oh?" You look up and see that the tall senior before you have an eyebrow raised, and a hand on his hip. Where Naoya is your bully, but you love him anyway.

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A student of Jujutsu High, you were alone. You had no friends. People already assumed you're an awkward person because of that. You have helicopter parents preventing you from going outside after school, so you would be alone in your room. 

But Naoya-senpai was the only one who gave you the time of day, even if he was doing it just to bully you. Imposing his misogynistic ideals and telling you how a woman should be. He'd purposely foot his foot out to trip you, and he'd smack anything you're holding in your hands, saying "oops" before he continues walking. He even went as far as dumping his drink on you because he didn't like it. You like him regardless because he was the only one you can really have a conversation with.

The others saw how badly you were treated but no one stepped up or asked you if you were okay. It's not like you were looking for pity, that was the last thing you wanted. But you find it odd that no one else seemed to join in on your abuse. They'd stray away from you when you try and approach them to ask a question. Was it because they were afraid that they'd be bullied by Naoya-senpai as well if he saw them interacting with you? He once saw a few boys plotting something sinister on you, but he'd sneer at them, making them run away in fear and never look your way again. Or, were you really that awful that your peers couldn't even stand to be in the same room as you?

That's why, your interactions with Naoya-senpai, even if it was demeaning, you valued every second of it.

You'd get to hear his deep voice, all mocking and condescending. Nitpicking everything he considers a flaw in you. But you'd listen with helpless watery doe eyes cast on the floor, wringing your thumbs together. Naoya-senpai would ask you questions, mostly about why you were like this, if you knew this or that, only to say how unintelligent you are. And yet, he keeps talking to you every day. As if it was part of his routine. As if, he was constantly thinking of you.

That's why you stay, and listen. And your beating heart races every second you spend with him. Out of fear? Or perhaps, out of fondness for the senior. 

Naoya-senpai was known to be strong, smart, and excessively handsome. He'd have a different girl around his arm every now and then, and he'd show her off to you if you happen to bump into him in the hallways. Telling you she almost resembles a proper woman. 

He waves a hand. "She's not much, but maybe try? At least."

And the girls around him were pretty seniors. Far from your appearance. But that doesn't deter you. Even if he was with them, he'd still talk to you.

So one day, you finally muster all of the courage you had and walk up to Naoya-senpai at his usual hang-out spot at the side of the school. Talking to him alone was probably better, but there wasn't a time when he isn't surrounded by his usual 3 friends. 

"Hey, Dottie," Naoya-sama calls you by your usual nickname. He calls you Dottie because it's close to the word "dowdy", something he and everyone would always describe you as. "What do you think you're doing here? Don't you know it's inappropriate for a girl to meddle with a group of men?"

"Hey Naoya, this looks like a love confession!" One of his friends snickers, shaking your beloved senior's shoulders.

"Oh god, Naoya pulled a nerd!"

"What a slut!"

"I'm here to talk to Naoya-senpai." You say, hands behind your back while staring at the ground. You can't stop the heat coming from your cheeks, coupled with your beating heart. "My next words are for him and him only."

"Oh?"

You look up and see that the tall senior, before you have an eyebrow raised, and a hand on his hip.

"What do you have to say? You're wasting my time, Dottie."

"You heard him, scamper away chick."

"Get lost."

"Naoya-senpai!" You force your voice almost breaking, causing the group of men before you to quiet down. 

Your hands fly from behind you and you extend them in his direction while you bow. 

"I -I love you, Naoya-senpai! Please accept my feelings!"

A pause.

You waited. You waited for him to say something, or at least, pick up the drink you were offering him.

It was his favorite matcha tea drink. The one he always gets from the vending machines.

Suddenly, you hear hysterical laughter and peer up, only to find his friends laughing, but not him. 

He has his beautiful golden eyes on you, a big hand over his mouth, tapping his index finger as if he was thinking of something. 

"Do you hear that, Naoya?! I told you it was a love confession."

"Yow, this is crazy!"

"I can't believe it myself if I couldn't see it with my own eyes and hear it with my own ears!"

"Naoya-senapaii, oohhh, I love you! HAHAHA, man, what a joke!"

Naoya chuckles at his friends' antics, or maybe even at you, "Enough.

"Dottie, did you hit your head?"

His friends laugh again and your face pales as you retract your arms.

"N-no -"

"Did you really think I'd settle for someone like you? "

You try to swallow the lump in your throat."T-then, why would you talk to me, every day? S-surely it meant, y-you wanted - "

"What?" He scoffs. "Revolting, seriously. You must be as dense as ever. No, Dottie. I'm not interested, but maybe my friends would like to take you up on the offer?"

"Gross, dude, no!"

"What is this? Giving us hand-me-downs?"

Hands gripping tightly around the drink, you fight back the tears forming in your eyes. "I -I'm not stupid! I know you call me Dottie because I'm all frumpy and dowdy looking, but my feelings for you are real! Because -and -and, why do you make sure everyone else doesn't pick on me?! What does that mean?"

He looks at you as he tilts his head to the side as if he was dumbfounded. "Frumpy and dowdy?" He smirks. "Is that what you think?"

"You told me!"

"Hmm? I don't recall."

"Naoya-senpai -!"

"Alright, kid. Stop bothering Naoya, you're starting to get annoying."

"Scram or I'll make you."

You shoot him one last pleading look, "Naoya-senpai . . ."

He yawns. "Get out of my face."

The drink drops from your hand before you sprint away, his friends' laughter gets smaller and smaller the farther you run away as your tears finally fall down your cheeks.

You weren't stupid. You knew what he'd say.

But, you were determined to get your feelings out there. To be strong like your Naoya-senpai. But, as the tears flow down your cheeks. . . 

You feel weak as ever.

After the confession, you'd think the students would laugh at you when you enter the hallways but to your surprise, they kept on walking. 

Did the seniors not tell say anything about your confession?

You went on your school days as usual, alone. No one would talk to you and you'd absent-mindedly stare out the window or mess with your phone. The different thing about here is you avoid all the places you'd usually bump into Naoya-senpai. You'd eat lunch with the teachers in the faculty room. You walk the alternative path to some rooms. You'd skip out buying something from the cafeteria just to avoid him.

And when it can't be helped and you end up in the same space as him, you'll walk faster and purposely sidestep him, before he even opens his mouth. This happens a few times in a span of several weeks.

Until Naoya-senpai caught you on the rooftop after classes, under a golden sunset.

"Sorry, I'll leave."

The senior was standing in the doorway and immediately blocks your path. You freeze and you glare up at him, to which he just snickers.

"Oh? Where did that come from? Gotten a little strong since - "

"I'm sorry for bothering you. The rooftop is all yours."

You try to get past him again but he only leans an arm against the door frame, looking down at you.

"Knock it off, bitch. Can't you see I'm trying to talk to you?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

He smirks, "I thought you said you loved me?"

Your hands ball into fists at your sides.

"What's that? Do you want to hit me, Dottie?"

There's that nickname again.

"Please, I would like to leave."

"Why? But you love me. Why would you ever want to leave?"

"Let me through!"

You can stand his constant insults about your lack of intelligence and appearance, but you find it hard to stand there and hear him make fun of your feelings. 

It hurts too much.

So you try and get past him again, but he grabs both of your arms in a tight grip and pulls you close in front of him.

Too close.

And he was angry. His eyes were raging boring holes into yours. For the first time, you were scared of him.

"Did you say those words just to spite me?!"

"W-wha - "

"You were lying, weren't you? You were trying to make fun of me? Me?!"

You can feel his hot breath and a few of his spit hit your face as he shouts at you, deafening. The tears start streaming from your eyes and you start to sob.

"Y-you're hurting m-me - "

"You think it'd be easy? To fool me? You're wrong, Dottie!"

"I d-don't know what you're t-talking a -about -"

"You tell me you love me, then avoid me?! Are you dense?!"

Your eyes widen as you gasp up at him. His face was red in anger. The sunset's colors paint his face along with it.

And you think, even in his rage, he looks beautiful.

"Naoya-senpai. . ."

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He asks. He's finally stopped yelling.

"You. . .rejected my feelings."

With that, he lets go of your arms. You rub them, certain that they'll leave bruises. 

"You're so stupid. Of course, I did."

"And I know you'd do that." 

He raises an eyebrow at you. "How so?"

"How? Because you bully me every day!"

Naoya-senpai scoffs before walking towards the fence and sits down. You follow him and sit down next to him. The two of you let silence engulf the space around you. The sunset was turning to a chilly evening and you watch as birds flock in the sky amongst the clouds. You can hear the voices from below, and laughter from children and teenagers in the streets. The busy roads. The vendors. The sound of someone dribbling a basketball. 

You were listening to all of it with your Naoya-senpai beside you.

You turn your head a bit to look at him. His blond hair softly flows in the wind as he stares off into the sky. His golden eyes reflected the night's colors and what was left of the orange sunset.

He flicks his eyes down to you.

"What are you looking at?"

You immediately stare down at your lap. 

"Naoya-senpai... You said you... .wanted to talk to me."

"Hmm."

You wait for him to talk more, but he said nothing else. Only the sound of the breeze greeted you. 

After some time, he finally speaks.

"Gift of god."

"Huh?"

"In Greek, "Doron" means"gift" and "Theos" means "God".  Thus, the word Dorothea is equivalent to the 'gift of god.'"

You give him a confused look, to which he clicks his tongue.

"You're so slow. Do you even read any books?"

"I'm sorry, I'm having trouble understanding what you want to say."

"Dottie.

Dottie is a shortened term for Dorothea. Which meaning is also, gift of god."

You gasp.

At first, from his words. Then, what he was about to do next? 

He raises his hand to play with the end of your hair, almost absent-mindedly. And you can't help but feel your heart beating up in your throat.

"I have no excuse for my actions, but I do know I can't stand to end a day without speaking to you."

Your eyes widen at his words, rendering you speechless. 

"You're not just messing with me, are you?"

"What?" You blinked.

"When you said what you said."

"What I said?"

His brows furrowed in annoyance, letting go of your hair. "That you loved me."

"Would I have gone through that trouble?"

Naoya-senpai leans his head into his hand as he watches you. "You know, you ought to be careful, Dottie. You can't go falling for people who are mean to you." 

"Well, nobody else talks to me."

He smiles. "That's good then."

"That's good?"

He shrugs. "I have you all to myself."

You blush at his words and clutch at your chest. "Are you, toying with me again, Naoya-senpai? You can say anything about me all you want, but I can't handle you mocking my feelings."

"And what would convince you otherwise?"

You stay quiet.

"Oh? What a slut."

"I-I didn't even say anything!"

"I didn't even say anything either."

"But you -!"

"Settle down. Men don't like it when women gawk, you know."

"I don't care."

"You don't? You should if you ought to be with me."

You whip your head abruptly back at him "Huh?!"

He suddenly takes your hand in his and brought it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.

You felt like your heart could explode.

"Naoya-senpai. . ."

"I think you should know, that I'll only hurt you."

"I don't care." You stare up at him with determination, eyes glistening with newfound hope.

"And I'll keep being mean to you."

"I don't care."

"But I'll make sure I'm the only one who does that."

He lets go of your hand to place his on top of your head. 

Your eyes grow wider, this time with your smile, "Okay."

Naoya-senpai gives you a smirk before standing up and waits for you to get up too. 

You follow his lead and the two of you leave the rooftop. Before you descend the stairs, you take one last look at the scene behind you.

This is where. . .Naoya-senpai made the effort to talk to you alone. where he displayed a rare kindness towards you. At the same moment, his captivating eyes mirrored the color of the sky.

"Hurry." The senior beckons.

This was where your heart was wholly his.

And his was yours. 

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(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere

//

i know naoya toxic and my writing and plot here was mid but I still love this anyway tbh