#i love when i get to knock on my knees to demonstrate

[salt-baby]

my beige flag is taking immense pleasure in shocking people with my disability

[moonpascal]

FRACTURED BONDS

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader wc: 830

warnings: angst, language, fighting, slight jean slander, idk what else

a/n: thanks to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged on the first part. part two to “something stupid”. this is everywhere, not sure how i feel about this but just wanted to get this out of my drafts. this gave me a headache, since im not hyper fixated like i was in the beginning of the year but hope it’s enjoyable! 🤎

Numbness was all you felt. The field around you lay in ruins, a burnt crater marking where your powers had gone haywire. Trees leaned or lay fallen from the blast, and you could only hope no one had been nearby.

The blue energy slowly dimmed from your hands, its destructive aftermath concealing the calm now settling over you.

Why did you let yourself get attached to Logan? You knew from the start it would lead to heartache. Still hung up on Jean—much to Scott’s displeasure—you were merely a distraction for him, someone to vent his frustrations on.

Shakily, you stood, wiping away tears that seemed never-ending. Transporting back to the castle’s foyer, the usual smile you wore was gone, leaving only a hollow feeling.

“Are you okay? You were gone for a while,” Scott murmured, making you jump, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine just tired. I’m heading to bed,” you replied, waving him off.

He nodded, giving you a sympathetic smile and let you go. Your room had become a place you hardly visited except for the occasional change of clothes.

Changing felt like a chore, your body weak and exhausted. Sleep, you knew would evade you. With a wave of your hand, you locked the door and placed runes on the walls to block out everything and everyone.

—

After a night of minimal sleep, teaching was the last thing on your mind. But you loved your students, and it wasn’t their fault you got “dumped”. On your way to the classroom, Rogue pulled you aside.

“Where were you last night? Logan was screaming and thrashing around in his sleep! Nobody could contact you, and it took forever to calm him down,” she exclaimed, dark circles under her eyes.

“Sorry, guess I was knocked out,” you shrugged. As much as you wanted to feel bad, you didn’t. Logan used you and then discarded you like you were nothing.

Rogue looked ready to defend him but couldn't find the words. Not wanting to hear it, you walked away and went to class.

In the classroom, the students fell silent and went to their seats—unusual behavior for them.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed Logan standing next to the mat, arms crossed with his usual scowl.

“Mr. Howlett, apologies. I forgot you’d be joining us today,” you said curtly before turning your attention to the students.

Their shocked murmurs filled the room, noticing your cold demeanor towards Logan, contrasting sharply with your usual flirtation and sunshine behavior.

As class progressed, the tension grew. Logan’s patience with the kids wore thin, while you on the other hand calmly corrected their mistakes.

“Fucking hell, kid! Don’t swing so wide when throwing a punch! You’re—”

“Logan! Language!” you shouted. “That’s why we’re teaching them!”

He huffed, ready to retort, but you silenced him with a flick of your hand, making the room erupt in laughter.

“Let’s demonstrate then,” you said, clapping your hands.

He begrudgingly walked to the mat. “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Please, as if that was a concern bub,” you smirked.

He threw the first punch, which you quickly dodged, transporting behind him and kicking his leg, making his knee hit the mat. He tried to swipe his other leg under yours, but you froze it in place.

“Using your powers isn’t cheating. You want to use your abilities to get out of tough situations.” You addressed the class.

Releasing him, he stood and grabbed your arm, twisting it behind your back. “But you shouldn’t rely on them in case they fail you one day!” he argued.

Suppressing a laugh, you maneuvered out of his hold, flipping him onto his back. He huffed and glared at you.

Although he never voiced it, Logan constantly underestimated your powers. You and Jean were similar, but you had control ninety-seven percent of the time. You didn’t know what she had that you didn’t.

Abruptly standing up, you dismissed the class. As the students exited, you didn’t spare Logan a glance and walked out with them.

—

Word travels fast among mutants. Ororo tried to help you as best as she could, but she knew you’d need time. Jean gives you sympathetic glances, and you managed small smiles in return. It wasn’t her fault; Logan just likes to think there’s a cat-and-mouse game between them, even though she rejected his advances. And Scott just added it to his list of reasons to hate him.

Logan ignores you as if you don’t exist. It hurts, but you after years of practice, it wasn’t hard to do the same.

Behind closed doors, you let your mask slip, crying for hours and replaying the good times in your head. As much as you wished Logan would take you back, you knew he’d never fully love or let you in.

He wanted what he couldn’t have, and you wanted him. Destined to never get what you truly wanted.

© moonpascal

tagging who requested a part two: @being-worthy @ro-lamperouge and to @kaita0 who gave me some suggestions.

[stevesbipanic]

Inspired by this post by @liightsnow

Steve had always been quick to open his home to his friends.

It began of course with allowing Tommy to throw big parties at his house since Steve’s parents were away, later he would open his home to the kids to have a safe place to just be kids. Steve enjoyed having his friends around and it helped fill the silence of his usually empty house. So it was no surprise that when Eddie needed a new location for Hellfire, Steve was the first to volunteer.

He and Eddie had gotten close as Eddie recovered in hospital, he was fun to be around, loud and bright in a way that pushed away the thoughts as to how Eddie ended up in the bed in the first place. Wayne was appreciative of Steve keeping his nephew company while he was at work and Steve always reassured him that it was no trouble, most of the time Steve stayed even when Wayne was there.

There was one issue with hosting Hellfire however, the Hellfire boys. Jeff, Gareth and Grant had visited Eddie a few times after school, all their parents keeping them at home when they could after the “earthquake”, Steve always excused himself allowing Eddie to have time with his friends. Steve couldn’t blame the wary looks that they’d send him, he knew who he was in high school, even Eddie had assumed the same.

This lead Steve to now as he opened the door to the three boys, who were last to arrive. They all nodded politely at Steve before heading straight to where Eddie was calling them in the dining room. At first Steve tried to make himself seem friendly and approachable to them, demonstrating that he had changed since his years of being King of Hawkins High. He set out snacks and got people drinks, even remembering which drinks Eddie had told them were their favourites, but all he got were polite smiles and glances towards Eddie. After receiving similar treatment when he brought them lunch, Steve gave up his attempts and retreated to his bedroom to wait out the rest of the game.

Steve curled into a ball on his bed, knees tucked tightly under his chin as he wrapped his arms around is legs. He got an eerie sense of déjà vu to when he was a child and his mother would send him up to his room once he’d been “showed off” to the guests. His purpose complete and he was no longer needed, Hellfire had what they needed to finish their game without them.

Steve heard joyous cries downstairs and wished for a moment he would’ve been able to stay and watch. Everyone always sounded so happy when the game concluded, and he knew Eddie told the best stories. He knew he couldn’t though, he didn’t want to ruin it for anyone, especially Eddie’s friends.

He was getting ready to go downstairs and clean up, another thing similar to his mother’s parties, when there was a knock at his door.

“Stevie? You ok in there?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, Eds, I’m fine, game finished then?” Steve replied as Eddie entered the room.

“Yeah, it was great, you should’ve stayed to watch Gareth made the best final attack, you have a headache or something, why are you hiding up here?”

“Oh, um,” Steve looked down at his hands, “Thought I’d just be in the way down there, didn’t want to spoil the fun.”

Eddie made a face at this, “Spoil the fun? Sweetheart, everyone would’ve loved you to stay and watch, might get Dustin off your back about playing.”

Steve shook his head, “Your friends don’t really like me much, which I get, it’s fine, glad you guys had a place to play though.”

“Steve why did you offer up your place if you didn’t want to watch? And the guys think you’re fine what’re you talking about, did one of them say something?”

“You guys needed a place to play and I have an empty house, need to be useful someway now that there’s no monsters to fight and my parents cut me off, and no, no one said anything but they always act weird around me.”

“Fuck Stevie, you’re more than just someone useful you know that right? I’d want you around just because I like you around, sweetheart, you don’t have to earn that by offering your house.”

“You sure?”

“Very sure, wasn’t getting better in Casa Harrington, was I? Got better cause I had my favourite jock beside me.” Steve blushed at that. “And as for my friends, I think I know the reason they’re acting weird around you,” Eddie said guiltily.

“Why?”

“Might’ve told them not to embarrass me in front of you,” Eddie said sheepishly.

“Why wouldn’t you want them to- oh,” Steve smiled softly, “Eddie Munson did you want to look cool in front of me because you like me?”

“Would it be bad to say yes?”

Steve lent over and kissed Eddie’s cheek softly, “Not at all.”

When the boys returned downstairs holding hands to find the others cleaning up, Jeff let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck you got your shit together Eddie, Harrington can you make those sandwiches again next time, I don’t know what you put in them but Gare ate like 5.”

“Hey, you would’ve eaten just as many if there were any left!”

Steve laughed, “Sure, will make them a Hellfire staple every week.”

The following week Steve was met by wide grins when he opened the door, and celebrated with the party when they defeated Eddie’s villain. Sitting on Eddie’s lap to watch the campaign was a good new perk too.

[koiiiji]

hiii! i really love your windbreaker scenarios😭❤️ can i request a hyuk kwon scenarios with friends to lovers trope, if you don't mind? thank you so much!!!

AHHH U READING MY THOUGHTS! i had it in my drafts, but already posted!! so here like a short scenario in same timeline, just take it as what happened in gaps here

author note ; seminar week in uni hits hard, but random tequila shots with flatmates in the middle of the week hits harder.... but don't worry i played through and won this fking hangover and dropping this post now😌🫦

warnings ; fluff, cute hyeok, not proofed

(bro is the type of guy who will show off a trick on his bike he hasn't trained enough yet and end up falling)

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friday evening started out great - all the lectures were over, the weather was beautiful outside, the sun had not yet disappeared behind the horizon and was giving the city its last rays. this week you didn’t miss a single lecture, and in general today you were quite active in class, you also agreed with your classmates to meet next week to complete a group project, so your socially active duty for today has been completed and you can calmly relax on weekend.

entering cozy apartment, you set down your bag and kicked off shoes, ready to delve into usual routine of household chores. you took a slow shower, completed all the steps in the skin care routine and now you wanted to start that series that you had been putting off for a long time when you heard a soft knock sounded at the door, interrupting your thoughts. curious, you opened the door to find Kwon standing there, with his usual calm and relaxed face. his presence caught you off guard a little, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. "hey..." he began, his voice a gentle murmur. "i was wondering if you'd like to go to that shop near our building with me. i wanted that banana drink you recommend me recently... and i thought you spent whole day in uni, so we could take a little walk together... you know to catch some fresh air and stuff..." your initial surprise quickly gave way to excitement, as your lips curling into a grin. despite his usual reserved demeanor, Kwon's offer filled you with pleasant a sense of warmth, joy and anticipation. "sure, i’d love to," you replied, grabbing a jacket and slipping on her shoes.

together, you ventured out into the cool evening air of Seoul, the streets alive with the hustle and bustle of city life. As you walked side by side, you couldn't help but steal glances at Hyeok, marveling at the way his stoic facade softened in the glow of the streetlights. small conversation about everything flowed effortlessly as you made your way to the shop, sharing stories and laughter along the way. but little did you know that Kwon had something else up his sleeve, a secret he was eager to reveal. of course you notice bike he took with him, but you genuinely thought he was so obsessed with these races and bicycles that he just wouldn't get off his bike.

upon reaching an empty playground nestled within a quiet corner of the neighborhood, Kwon's eyes twinkled with mischief as he hopped on his bicycle, a gleam of excitement dancing in his gaze. "watch this," he murmured, his voice tinged with excitement as he prepared to demonstrate a new trick he had been practicing. however, fate had other plans in store, and as he attempted to execute the trick, a misstep caused him to lose his balance, sending him tumbling to the ground with a muffled thud. your heart felt like it skipped a beat as you rushed to his side, concern etched across your features. ignoring the pain coursing through his knee, Hyeok tried to brush off the accident with some kind of incomprehensible emotion. but you saw through his facade, your heart aching at the sight of him in distress. without a moment's hesitation, you took charge, guiding him to a nearby bench and inspecting his injury with gentle hands. rummaging through your bag, you retrieved a pack of cute adhesive bandages adorned with playful images of bananas, a small smile tugging at your lips. with utmost care, you cleaned his wound and carefully applied the bandages, your touch felt so tender that Hyeok could feel goosebumps down his spine.

in that vulnerable moment, when he saw you on your knees before him as you tended to his injury with unwavering kindness, Kwon felt a surge of emotions wash over him, his heart swelling with a newfound warmth. as he looked into your eyes, he realized with startling clarity that what he felt for you already went beyond mere friendship.

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[strwberri-milk]

No thoughts, head empty, just enemies with benefits ft. Kaeya humiliating reader in bed <3

-🌙

yes i leaned heavily into him being mean/humiliating so there is a bunch of that bc idk i just think his silver tongue is really sharp when he wnats it to be uwu

"You really thought you did something, didn't you?" Kaeya growls into your ear as you writhe pathetically in his grasp.

"What did you think you could achieve by showing me up during sparring today? Were you trying to embarrass me? Now look at you - I'm sure in just a second I'll be getting you to beg me to fuck you." The way he speaks to you almost sounds vile, hands tightening their grip on your wrists as you're pressed further into his desk.

The two of you had what you thought of as an uneventful morning, you having taken the opportunity to knock Kaeya on his ass when a recruit asked you to demonstrate a move they were struggling with. As soon as Kaeya hit the ground and you smirked down at him you realised you were in for a world of pain, but you couldn't be bothered to care as long as you got your victory out here.

"It's not my fault you didn't see it coming," you bite back, ignoring the flutter in your stomach at the feeling of Kaeya's hand grabbing your knee to prop up on the wood. Your core rubs up against it, making you bite back a groan much to Kaeya's chagrin.

"Big words from someone who's turned on by getting treated like a whore," he spits, reaching over your body to grab the bottle of lube he keeps in his office just for you.

"You don't know what you're talking about. That's just what you tell yourself to feed your own ego."

He ignores your jab, pulling his belts out of his pants as you hear him beginning to pull himself out of his clothes. Your breathing shallows in anticipation, ignoring the slight strain in your legs with the way he's made you stand on just one foot with his chest pressing down on your back. His dick twitches against your still clothed thigh eagerly, unaware that he was already this hard just from wrestling you underneath him.

"Right, right and the way you're trying to grind your hips against me despite the fact that you're unable to is just my imagination?"

You feel your cheeks warm at the observation, knowing he was telling the truth and just turning away from him to hide from it.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Oh, I'll be telling you to do that in just a second."

You can hear him uncap the bottle, almost wishing you could see the look on his face as he runs his palm over his shaft. The slight sigh of pleasure he makes behind you makes you clench over nothing, trying again to grind up against his hips.

"Ah ah. Be patient."

A sharp yelp slips past your lips as Kaeya pushes you up further on his desk, leg now dangling over the edge as he rips open a hole in your pants to show him your desperate little hole waiting for his cock. Your sex throbs needily, begging for his attention as he licks his lips in anticipation.

"Be quiet, unless you want all the Knights to hear how much you love me fucking you. You want that? To know that you're my own personal whore?"

He doesn't give you the chance to respond as he slides into you all at once, the pain mixing with pleasure as your nails scrape against his desk. Kaeya starts immediately with rough thrusts, the cool surface rubbing against you as he uses you like a glorified fleshlight. You can't help but moan, knowing that no matter how much you hated him, he knew how to make your body crave him.

"Fuck, feel how tight you are? Such a fucking slut - you like being used, don't you? Cock hungry whore. Tell me, would you let anybody fuck you like this? If anyone walked in on us like this would you open your mouth and beg for them to fill you up on the other end?"

He always says the meanest things to you, hands holding your hips in place as your eyes roll to the back of your head. You can't focus, not like this, not when he's absolutely destroying your body with the pleasure he wracks through it.

"You're moaning like a bitch in heat. You want my cum, don't you? Talking all that shit about how much you hate me but then you're always on your knees begging me to fuck you senseless. Come on, moan more, let everyone hear how much you need me."

It doesn't take you long to cum from his rough fucking, gasping and panting for breath as he fucks you through his orgasm. He won't ever tell you he loves it when you cum all over his desk, staining the wood with your wetness. It makes him want to fuck you even harder, make you cum over and over again to create a puddle on his desk that he can make you clean up. He jerks off to the thought constantly, cumming on it himself as he plans out how to get you back here next time.

Not only that, but he loves when you go quiet from how harshly he fucks you. You're always mouthing off to him, making his cock strain against his belt with your defiance only for him to shove it down your throat and make you eat your words. He tells you so every time, fingers now digging into your hips when you give him a sharp moan. He abuses that spot inside of your body, ignoring the way your body shakes from overstimulation.

"Kaeya, Kaeya, I -"

You're trying to warn him you're cumming again, squeezing so hard he thinks he won't be able to pull out but he just compensates by fucking you even harder. The loud slam of his hips aginst yours is only quieted by your muffled whines as he covers your mouth, not actually wanting someone to catch the two of you in the act.

"Cum as many times as you want. I'm going to remind you that your place is always underneath me, and nowhere else."

[daytaker]

Can I request a fic where MC is sort of a pathological liar? and they lie about stuff that ultimately doesn't matter, but they can't help it? Also, if it could be Mammon x mc centric that would be amazing, but it doesn't have to be. I love your writing!! bye bye

POV: You are cldhart08. You forgot you sent this to me. Two full months later, you get a notification that daytaker replied to your ask.

Pants on Fire

Ships: (Lowkey) Mammon/Reader, Beel & Reader Word Count: ~1.1k CW: lying (general), lying about medical conditions, bullying Mammon

So you're a bit of a liar.

"I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. I wasn't breathing or anything, and my dad actually fainted.

...Or a lot of a liar.

"Did you know my second cousin actually dated Selena Gomez for awhile?"

One might even go so far as to call your lying 'pathological'.

"I actually have a severe tree nut allergy, so I'll pass on that. Thanks though."

There was never any logic to it. The lies just came out. You never felt guilty about it, because no one got hurt. So there wasn't really anything to worry about, right?

Wrong.

You sit on the floor outside of Mammon's room, hugging your knees, when a big, hulking form slumps down the wall onto the floor beside you.

"Oh... Hey, Beel," you say. You're not even trying to pretend as if nothing's wrong.

"Hello." He looks at Mammon's door, then at you. "Did you knock?"

You sigh, then demonstrate to Beel what happens when you knock on Mammon's door. A muffled voice comes from inside.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," you reply.

"I already told you! If you're a scummy, lyin' human, you can go eat nuts for all I care! I'm never talkin' to you again so you might as well stop wastin' both our times!"

"He's talking to you now," Beel points out, and it's hard to argue with his logic.

"Who the hell was that? Beel? Fine, then I'll only talk to you to tell you to fluff off, how's that?"

You rub your eyes tiredly and Beel leans in a little, speaking lower so Mammon can't hear him. "If you just leave, he'll come looking for you in about ten or twenty minutes."

"If I leave, he's going to think I'm not sorry." Hugging your knees, you shake your head. "I am sorry."

"Is this about the thing at the student council meeting and the nuts?"

You shudder at the memory.

----

You hadn't even thought about it at the time.

You never particularly liked nuts. Almonds, cashews, walnuts, chestnuts... not even peanuts outside their butter form. So when Mammon asked you why you declined to try a rather nut-heavy dish prepared by Barbatos himself, you simply told him you were allergic. "If I even get a whiff of them, my body goes into anaphylactic shock."

"What the hell's that?"

"Basically, my immune system goes haywire, and if I don't get the right kind of shot in the first few minutes, I'm a goner."

At the time, Mammon had seemed impressed by how close you skated to death, risking your life by casually allowing tree nuts to continue existing around you. And you? You'd enjoyed the brief attention.

At the time.

-----

That was weeks ago, so it was far from your mind as you accepted some human world trail mix from Beel while you sat, bored out of your wits, through another student council meeting. You picked out most of the nuts, of course, but in the end, you swallowed the imperfectly sorted handful.

And Mammon lost it.

"THERE WERE NUTS IN THAT!"

Diavolo, who had been in the middle of speaking, stuttered to a halt as everyone looked over to Mammon, who was simultaneously cradling you and screaming obscenities at an utterly bewildered Beelzebub. In the moment, you'd sort of frozen up and said nothing. Mammon...

Mammon was crying.

He was crying and yelling ridiculous instructions to everyone in the room and getting extremely angry when the others didn't seem to see what the issue was.

"They're gonna go into analgesic shock and die if we don't do somethin' fast! Do none of you bird brains get that?!"

He begged you to tell him how to get that shot you needed, that... what was it, an Apple Pen?

...It was several minutes before you were able to get the truth out.

Force the truth out, more like. Telling that truth made you almost wish you really had gone into anaphylactic shock. That seemed like an easier way to go than looking Mammon in the eye, in front of all his brothers and Diavolo, and explain that you didn't actually have that allergy. That you'd lied.

And of course, of course, the onus fell on Mammon for believing it.

Satan and Asmo sighed at how someone so stupid could function. Levi posted on Devilgram about how you'd epically trolled Mammon. Lucifer scolded Mammon for his overreaction, and Belphie just glowered at Mammon for waking him up with all his shrieking.

And you, you sort of...said nothing.

-----

"Ah," Beel says, nodding. "You feel bad that you made him look stupid."

"No," you groaned, frustrated at your inability to articulate exactly what it was that felt so off. "It's... He really thought I was going to die. I scared him. And then everyone treated him like a gullible idiot. So...I guess I made him look stupid, but..."

Beel stares at you. His expression is blank, but in a soft sort of way. It's oddly comforting.

"He got made into a laughing stock because I told him a lie, and he reacted to it....the way someone would react if they thought someone they really cared about was in danger. I feel guilty for lying and worrying him, and I feel worse that I just let everyone tear into him like always, when all he did was try to take care of me."

The door you're leaning against swings open behind you and you fall flat on your back in Mammon's doorway. The demon stares down at you with a mixture of righteous contempt and a flustered embarrassment that was so painfully typical of Mammon.

"Yeah! And you should feel guilty! You're a real asshole, ya know that?"

You blink up at him and offer a weak smile. "...Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

Mammon folds his arms. "You really think you can just come snivelin' up to me and beg for forgiveness, and I'll just hand it to ya?"

Beel looks between you and Mammon, watching the conversation unfold with the same mild interest he'd show while staring at a somewhat unimpressive exhibit at the zoo.

"...Well, today just so happens to be your lucky day," Mammon continues. "The Great Mammon, the big guy himself, has decided to forgive your tiny mortal soul for bein' a total jackass and liar. You're welcome. Don't expect it to happen again."

Still lying on your back, you grin at Mammon. "Thanks, Great Mammon."

The demon clears his throat and looks away. "Anyway. Our turn to make dinner tonight, so..." With that, he walked right past you and darted down the stairs.

Typical Mammon.

[starsreminisce]

The bonus chapters do provide context and throwbacks to the main books, and it's frustrating to think they wouldn't impact the overall story. After all, the ACOMAF bonus chapter cemented Nessian's relationship and added depth to their story. SJM excels at weaving these elements seamlessly. Therefore, it feels like a step backward to argue that Elain will face a choice when the bonus chapter clearly shows Azriel's feelings for her and his developing friendship with Gwyn.

Elain demonstrably showed interest in Azriel, but he rejected her. Rhys reminded Azriel that Elain and Lucien still have a bond, and Lucien has the right to defend it. Elain returned his necklace, which Azriel then gave to Gwyn.

Both ACOSF bonus chapters establish context. Azriel's chapter clarifies his sullen behavior at the solstice, and Gwyn starts calling him "Shadowsinger" after he reveals the title. Feyre's chapter explains their choice of the name Nyx for their son.

Therefore, it's confusing why SJM would regress Elain and Azriel's interactions. The bonus chapter clearly showed Azriel hurting Elain to the point of returning his gift. Additionally, it focused on his growing investment in Gwyn. Elain's book likely won't start with a love triangle involving Lucien and Azriel. The bonus chapter suggests Elain has already made her choice.

Ideally, Elain's book will explore her reasons for accepting Azriel's rejection and delve into her feelings for her true mate. Most importantly, we should see Elain stand up for herself against Azriel. This is the third time he's acted without considering her, similar to how Tomas motivated Nesta to overcome her fear.

ACOMAF Bonus Chapter:

He didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit as she rose up on her toes, her mouth nearing his— Pain exploded between his legs, knocking the breath from his chest as that gods- damned knee of hers indeed found its mark. Cassian staggered back, swearing viciously. She snorted, looking down at him as he fell on his ass into an armchair, clutching his stomach, trying to reorder his brain— “You’re all the same,” she said, imperious as the night and cold as the dawn. “Perhaps being an immortal makes you predictable.”

In ACOMAF:

I’d had one break from Cassian’s brutal training—just one morning, when he’d flown to the human realm to see if my sisters had heard from the queens and deliver another letter from Rhys to be sent to them. I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.

In ACOSAF:

He didn’t know why the hell he cared. Why he’d bothered. Even from the start. Even after she’d kneed him in the balls that one afternoon at her father’s house.

ACOMAF Bonus Chapter:

No, she had not been with any male, Fae or human. Tomas had wanted to, and she . . . some part of her had known no future lay with him. Knew about his hateful father, and that he did nothing to prevent the man from beating his mother. She had barely let Tomas kiss her, and that day when she had ended it, he’d . . . She swallowed, shutting out the memory of what he’d said and done. The sound of her tearing dress. No—it hadn’t gone that far, but . . . The blind terror in those moments he’d tried, before she’d screamed and clawed her way free. And never told anyone. Something must have shown on her face, in her scent. Because his annoyance vanished—no, it shifted. Into something else, something . . . Rage. That’s what stilled Cassian’s face. Pure, burning rage.

In ACOSF:

Three days afterward, Nesta broke it off with Tomas. Enraged, he’d launched himself at her, pinning her against the enormous woodpile stacked along the barn wall. Spiteful whore, he’d growled. You think you’re better than me? Acting like a queen when you haven’t got shit. She’d never forget the sound of her dress tearing, the greed in his eyes as his hands pawed at her skirts, trying to raise them as he fumbled with the buckle on his belt.

[niki-phoria]

hello :) can i req that you write a fic based on either txt or enhypen calling their older male s/o when they feel down or upset about something that happened during their day? tysm!

⋆｡°✩ txt reaction - their bf comforting them after a bad day

includes: older male reader (use of hyung), established relationship, tried to make these as different as possible, chose txt for this bc i have a few other enha reqs lol

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i hope you like it :))

male reader (he/him pronouns)

requests open !! read my rules first

⋆｡°✩ yeonjun

(word count 339)

yeonjun sighs, letting the cool concrete wall behind him soothe his aching muscles. he slides down, pulling his knees up to his chest. he sighs, letting his eyes flutter closed as he enjoys the fleeting silence. 

he startles when there’s a gentle knock at the door. he scrambles to his feet when you crack it open just enough to slip into the practice room. “hyung?”

“hey,” you smile. he’s quick to pull you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you. he buries his face into the crook of you neck as he lets out a content sigh, letting you support his body weight. “bad day? you’re usually not this clingy.”

yeonjun hums before he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. “i’ve felt… off all day. i was just about to call.”

“i’m glad i came then.” 

you let him cling to you for a few more minutes before he gently pulls away. you bring a hand up to gently cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his soft skin. yeonjun smiles as you pull him down into a kiss. “come on,” you whisper as you wrap your arm around his waist, guiding him to the center of the room. 

“what are you doing?” yeonjun chuckles as you rush over to grab his phone, connecting it to the speakers and putting on the playlist specifically for dance lives. he recognizes the familiar melody of their latest comeback as the noise echoes throughout the room as he chuckles. you stand beside him in front of the mirror, taking his hand into yours. 

“we’re dancing,” you smile. “show me the steps.”

yeonjun shakes his head, chuckling as he ghosts his hands against your hips. his movements are slow and careful as he demonstrates each step. “one, two, three, four.”

you copy him as best as you can - even with your subpar footwork. you focus on yeonjun’s bright smile in the mirror in front of you, a familiar feeling of warmth and love washing over you whenever he laughs.

⋆｡°✩ soobin

(word count 315)

soobin sighs, letting his eyes flutter closed as he finally collapses onto his bed. he lets his eyes shut for a second. every part of his body aches and feels stiff with the tension he’s been carrying around for what feels like weeks. 

the momentary silence is broken by a gentle knock against his hotel door. soobin resists the urge to roll his eyes as he forces himself to get up and open it. his eyes widen when he opens the door to you. “hyung?”

“hi,” you smile. he immediately steps forward to wrap his arms around you. his grip is tight as he jumps into your arms. 

“what are you doing here?”

“yeonjun called me,” you whisper, rubbing a gentle hand against his back. “he said you were having a rough time so they flew me out here.”

soobin smiles slightly as he steps back just enough to tug you into the room with him. “i’m fine.”

“you’re not. your shoulders are tense and i can almost see the stress lines on your forehead. binnie,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “just let me take care of you.” 

he glances away before finally relenting with a small sigh. “okay.”

you pull him into a quick kiss before guiding him back to the bed in the center of the room. “lie down.” soobin complies, rolling over to lay on his stomach. you move to lay over him, gently rubbing your hands against his back. he lets out a content sigh as you move your hands to massage his shoulders, slowly releasing the built-up tension. 

“i love you hyung,” he sighs, reaching over to grab your hand. he pulls it over to press a kiss against your knuckles before letting go. 

you stifle a chuckle as he lets go so you can continue to massage his back. “i love you too, binnie.”

⋆｡°✩ beomgyu

(word count 332)

you let out an annoyed sigh when your phone rings once again. you squint down at the device to read the time - 14.54. sunlight seeps in through your windows despite the closed blinds, surrounding your bedroom. beomgyu groans from beside you. his arm gingerly resting around your waist tightens slightly as he pulls you closer to your chest.

“gyu,” you chuckle. “i need to answer my phone.” 

he huffs but relents, shifting just enough so you can reach over to grab it. you prop yourself up with your elbow as you answer the call, stifling a yawn when you do. “hello?”

“y/n,” soobin’s voice comes through clearly from the other side. “have you heard from beomgyu?”

you furrow your eyebrows, fully sitting up in bed. “yeah, he’s right here. what do you mean?”

jay lets out a small relieved sigh in response. “he’s been having a rough day. he said something about needing you before he grabbed his jacket and ran off a few hours ago. i was just getting worried.”

“sorry, that’s probably my fault,” you chuckle. “he said he was having a bad day so i told him to turn his phone off.”

“no it’s okay. i’m glad he came to you. sleep well, y/n.”

“you too.”

you set your phone aside as soon as you hang up from the call. beside you, beomgyu leans over to tug you to lay back down. you stifle a laugh as he pushes you over to lay on your chest. his body weight pins you down against your bed, keeping you firmly in place. “who was it?”

“soobin,” you reach up to play with his hair, twisting the strands between your fingers. “he was wondering where you were.”

beomgyu simply hums in response. his eyes remain closed and his grip loosens slightly as he slowly falls back into a restful sleep. you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. “i love you, gyu.”

“i love you too hyung.”

⋆｡°✩ taehyun

(word count 385)

a gentle knock on your door interrupts you from the middle of cooking dinner. you jump slightly at the sudden noise before reaching over to turn the heat from your stove down to answer the door. you cock your head in confusion when you find your boyfriend standing on the other side. he’s wearing an oversized hoodie - one of yours that he stole - and a pair of loose sweatpants. his hair is slightly damp, likely from a shower he took before coming over. 

he gives you an apologetic smile at your confusion. “tae?”

“hi hyung.” you step aside to let him in before locking the door behind him. “i’m sorry, i should’ve called.”

“no, it’s okay. how was practice?” taehyun sighs, setting his bag down on your couch. “oh, that bad?”

he walks over, wrapping his arms around your waist. he buries his head into the crook of your neck as you turn the heat back on. “i’m just having an off day.”

you hum in acknowledgement, turning around to pull him into a sweet kiss. “okay. well, dinner’s almost ready. you can help me finish up here and then we can watch movies and cuddle.”

“that sounds nice,” taehyun smiles. his hands ghost against your waist as you finish sautéeing the food. taehyun reaches up into your cabinets to grab two plates as you separate the food out into two different portions. 

you smile as you turn around, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek. “go pick the movie and find some blankets. i’ll bring the food over.” 

taehyun steps back slightly, watching as you finish garnishing the food. you cock your head at him in confusion at the small, lovestruck smile on his face. you stifle a small chuckle as you walk over to place the plates down on your coffee table. “what?”

taehyun is quick to follow you, shaking his head as he sits down on the couch beside you. “nothing.”

“if it’s ‘nothing’ then why are you looking at me like i’m the reason the sun is in the sky?”

he chuckles as you snuggle yourself beside him. “i’m just… so in love with you.”

you shift to look at him, smiling at the way his smile grows before you pull him into yet another kiss. “i love you too, tae.”

⋆｡°✩ huening kai

(word count 277) he's so KDLNDSLKDSN i'm in love with him omg

your phone vibrating against your desk catches your attention as it cuts through the previous silence. you reach over to grab it, furrowing your eyebrows as kai’s contact photo lights up the screen. you swipe to answer the call before raising it to your ear. “hello?”

“hyung,” kai replies. his voice is quiet and raspy - you can hear it through the call. 

“is everything okay? i thought you were at practice.”

“i was- i am, it’s just…” he sighs. 

“kai, you can tell me anything. you know that.”

“i’m okay. it’s just been a rough day. soobin-hyung said i should call you.” he takes a shaky breath before continuing. “i don’t really want to talk about it.”

“okay,” you whisper. “we don’t have to talk.”

“can you… come over?”

“yeah, of course.” you reach over to shut your computer before slipping on a random pair of shoes and grabbing your car keys. “i’ll be right there.”

the drive feels longer than it should despite the desolate streets. you shove your phone into your pocket as you run up the steps until you find kai sitting inside of an empty practice room. he startles slightly when you push the door open before standing up to let you pull him into a hug. 

you let him cling to you for what feels like hours. he rests his head against your chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of your heart beating before leaning down to tilt your head up and pull you into a sweet kiss. “thank you hyung,” he whispers. 

you simply lean down to press a kiss against his forehead. “i love you, kai.”

“i love you too.”

[smalls-words]

Demons Are Angels When It Comes To Love

Summary: Natasha loves a demon. And she definitely shows it.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Demon!Reader, Wanda and Pietro and Tony x Reader (besties), Carol x Brunnhilde (lovers <3).

Warnings: Demon stuff, Rhodey being an asshole, Tony not being an asshole (that’s a first), protective twins. Body image issues, shapeshifting causing mental harm, blood, injuries. 

A/N: I don’t know why I wrote with Demon!Reader. Just kinda came to me since I’ve been doing my Nat series. Enjoy.

*not my gif*

The world knows about aliens, androids and wizards, a few of them on the Avengers mighty team that stretched across galaxies. But the creator, Nicholas Joseph Fury, kept a small secret from them all.

Demons and angels walked amongst them.

He had found you when you’d gotten high off of a drugged mortal, who eventually overdosed six hours later. You were in a holding cell and it wasn’t your first time, but your powers were out of whack because of the mix of heroin, cocaine, MDMA and alcohol. He took you home after paying the fine for being drunk and disorderly, but luckily the blood wasn’t questioned since it was Halloween.

Nobody really questioned your appearance, it wasn’t unlikely given what they’d previously dealt with, but the whole demon side was new. They’d seen horns, wings and a tail before - yours were very much what they’d pictured in ‘cartoons’ and in biblical manners.

But then… Then you met Natasha.

Natasha was the best thing you’d come across in your entire life. Her soul was pure, even if she thought her actions and past made her darker than your own soul. Then you explained to her one night that you didn’t have a soul, which made her giggle.

You made sure you heard that sound everyday you could, and so far in your one and a half month relationship, you had. She would come around to your place almost every day, and on the days she couldn’t, you’d send her funny texts and she promised to use the voice messages to calm you down.

Natasha’s friends, however…

Being a demon came with pros and cons. Pros - shapeshifting, magic, immortality, general superpowers like invulnerability and super senses and reflexes. Cons - Hard-core Christians, old people, immortality. Most young people saw the pros and often asked for a demonstration, whilst older people threw crosses or swore at you.

You really didn’t want that to happen when you moved into the compound. 

It was an order given by Fury, who demanded you be transferred from a regular SHIELD agent to the Avengers, and Tony was very pleased to have you. He admired your ability to consume alcohol with no or little effect, your intelligence gifted by time, your powers that he could test his machines on with your consent, and he loved your personality and relationship with Natasha.

He never thought the Triple Impostor could learn to love. But, if it had to be anyone, it would probably be a demon. 

Sitting in his lab, you watched him fiddle with something in his suit’s knee before a knock came to the door. You smiled widely, giving the redhead a flash of your fangs, before she leapt into your arms and you easily caught her.

“Hey, sweetness.” You kissed her softly, holding her jaw and some of her neck.

“Hi.” She gleamed up at you.

“How was your mission?” You asked, seating her on your lap whilst your tail curled around her waist.

“It was good. We got two more Widows free, and Yelena’s gone to make more vials.” She murmured as she leaned into you, her hand coming up your shirt to tickle against your back.

“Come on, then. Let’s go and get you showered.” 

You stood, your tail keeping her by your hip, and you patted Tony on the back. “See ya, Stark.”

“Don’t forget about the party tonight! I need my demon girl there for drunk poker!” He called out as you left. 

You helped Natasha shower, washing her hair for her whilst she just leaned against you, and you thanked her when she washed your bat-like wings. You wrapped her up in your fuzzy towel, taking the rougher one instead, and helped her get dressed before laying her down in bed.

“Tasha, I have to do some work for Fury, so you should have a nap and when you wake up, I’ll be done.” You kissed her forehead, but she grabbed onto your wrist.

“But we always cuddle after a mission.” She whined.

She watched your eyes change from their dark auburn to their acidic yellow, looking over her. She stayed still and watched them change back, grinning when you sighed. “Come on, then.” 

You sank into your chair and opened up the files needed finishing, waiting for her to sit down on your lap. She nestled into you, kissing you gently as she admired your features.

“Are you excited for the party tonight?” She queried, braiding a small section of your hair.

“I sure am. Haven’t seen Wanda and Pietro for ages. I missed my speedy buddy.” 

“What about me?” She smirked, and you snickered into a kiss on her temple.

“I always miss you. If I was allowed, I’d come and visit you.” 

She grinned, proud of herself, but you saw in the reflection of the screen that she was getting sleepy. You warmed yourself up and exchanged her shirt with one of your own via summoning, leaving the buttons undone but her bra covered her boobs to stop tempting you.

“Sleep well, my sweet.” You kissed her head softly before dulling the sounds around you, giving her as much peace as she needed.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

When she woke in her bed, you greeted her by a surprise teleportation on top of her. She grinned sleepily at you and you gently sank on top of her, peppering her cheeks with little kisses. “Good evening, Sleeping Beauty.” 

“Have you come to wake me from my slumber, Princess Y/N?” She gently kissed your lips, tasting a bit of cinnamon.

“Doughnuts, my human.” You answered her thought and she quickly rolled on top of you. 

“What time is it?” She plopped down on top of you but you didn’t get winded.

“6. Party starts at 7.” 

She nuzzled her head into your neck and kissed your skin. “I don’t wanna go.” Her groan was muffled, but you caught it.

“I know, sugar. But we do need to make at least an hour’s appearance.” You gently ran your nails up and down her back.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall back asleep and we’re gonna be late.” 

“I can get us ready in a flash, my darling.” You chuckled.

The hour passed quickly before Natasha and you made your appearance outside in the courtyard, your suit matching her dark velvet red dress. Eyes were drawn to you both, but you made no effort in your magical ability and Natasha’s arm linked in yours showed she was very much taken.

You made your rounds to whom you needed to before you spotted platinum blonde hair next to brunette, the two turning into blurs until they hugged you tightly.

“Demonica!” Pietro yelled in excitement.

“Hello, Pietro and Wanda.” You smiled at them both.

“This party is going to be so boring if you don’t do something.” He whined, the childish soul of his desperate for dopamine.

“You both look stunning.” Wanda complimented, especially on the little chains that hung from your horns and woven into your hair.

You kissed Natasha as she left, admiring how she walked with self-confidence and almost regality before Pietro sped you to the couch. 

“Alright, let’s play!” 

You looked at your surrounding opponents in this game of drunk poker - Carol and Brunnhilde were together, the blonde sitting on her king’s lap; Tony and Pepper, but the strawberry blonde wasn’t paying attention; Pietro and Wanda, the girl not knowing how to play; and Rhodey was your final opponent, sitting by himself on the couch to your right.

The game started off with everyone having 20 chips, divided evenly by Peter who was now talking to Happy and Fury. You won the first two rounds with a royal flush and a full house, earning yourself a total of 56 chips since everyone had bet highly. 

Tony won, then Carol and Bruni (as you nicknamed her), and Pietro won a hand with Wanda’s help. Rhodey, however, was getting pissed off as he was now down to 6 chips. 

“Hey, Demonica, want a drink?” Pietro asked and you nodded, thanking him for his offer before he sped away.

“Why does he call you that?” Rhodey questioned.

“Because he likes Metallica and I’m a demon.” You replied, answering Rhodey’s call of one chip.

“Wow, never would have guessed from your get-up.” He chuckled sarcastically, watching Carol/Bruni and Tony fold, Pietro having done so to get drinks.

You thanked FRIDAY for dealing the next card, your set of ace/king fairing well with the ten and nine. “I wouldn’t call it a get-up, for it is my natural shape. Our king is a kind one, and accepting of all shapes and sizes of us.” 

“But you know that everyone is terrified of you, right?” 

Your hand was outstretched to raise the bet, but Rhodey beat it to you and called all-in. “W-What?” 

“You don’t know? Really?” He scoffed. “Wow. You really don’t understand humans.” 

“How am I not understanding you?”

“Rhodey, cut it out, man.” Tony grumbled.

You turned your powers back on and sniffed Rhodey’s scent, almost gagging from the amount of alcohol in his veins. “You are intoxicated, James Rhodes. I will not be speaking to you anymore tonight.” 

You guided your chips to Carol and Brunnhilde before going to the bar, finding Pietro there with Wanda and Natasha. You came to Natasha’s side and placed your hand on the small of her back, kissing her forehead gently before listening to the conversation.

“So there was this one girl in HYDRA that Wanda really liked, and dare I say even kissed… and they were so cute!” Pietro grinned at his blushing sister.

“Shut up, Pietro! I told you that in confidence!” Wanda grumbled, looking over at you.

“Oh, hey Y/N/N.” 

“Hello, my favourite twins.” You smirked. “Is it okay if I steal my beautiful girlfriend from your conversation?”

“Of course!” 

You took Natasha’s hand in yours and gently guided her to the fountain outside, sitting down on a bench that faced the beautiful structure. Natasha sat next to you, still holding your hand, and sat in the silence with you.

She knew you struggled with your pure demonic side. The instincts that lay beneath the shell of an intelligent mind. The urge to drink from humans, to punish and make them serve you. She understood what it was like to want to fall back onto those instincts, and she gently kissed the back of your hand to gain your attention.

“What is it, Y/N?” She asked oh so gently, as if her very breath could knock over the tower of your emotions like they were cards.

“I am alright, Tasha. I just needed some air.” You murmured, gently taking her hand in yours to trace your nails over her hand.

Though she doubted your words, she didn’t question them. 

“Thank you for loving me.” You looked at her, eyes full of love.

“I could say the same, my dear.” She cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, pulling away ever so slightly.

“I think we’ve stayed past our hour. Let’s go to bed.” 

You nodded, guiding the shadows to encase you and your love.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

Natasha was right. She was always right.

Over the coming days, you were taken on less missions and nobody could enter your room. On one day that almost everybody had gone, you found yourself looking in the mirror at your reflection. 

“But you know that everyone is terrified of you right?” 

Really? Were you really that hideous to look at? You pushed and pulled at the soft skin of your stomach, the already red tone not showing any evidence. 

*I guess I could show a little less skin… Maybe even do…* You shifted into human colours, sifting through them until you found something you felt was normal.

You looked at your horns and gently shrank them until they disappeared, doing the same with your wings and tail before shortening your nails and fangs. You did a little google search and found the selection of eye colours, picking one that sorta matched the human skin.

*Hmm. I’ll have to get Rhodey’s opinion.* You muttered, looking around for your phone.

“Who… the hell… are you?”

You lifted your head to see Natasha aiming her gun at your forehead, calling out to FRIDAY to alert the team of an intruder. You quickly raised your hands and undid your magic to reveal your eyes, realisation flickering through hers.

“Y/N/N? What…? I don’t understand.” She threw her gun down and came over to you, patting her hands and walking around you.

“Where are your wings? Your tail, your horns, your fangs?”

She looked up at you and cupped your cheeks, her thumbs brushing over your skin - skin she didn’t see as yours.

“Bring it all back. Right now.” She demanded pleadingly.

You closed your eyes and easily broke down your façade, letting her check over you once more to make sure everything was back. She hugged you tightly and sat you down on the bed, taking your hand.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me. I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone on every single plane of existence, and you need to know that so deeply that you will never doubt it. You need to know it in your bones. And if it takes me telling you every single day for that to happen, then so it will be.” 

You stayed quiet as she studied your hand. “Who made you doubt yourself? Because I certainly know it wasn’t me, Pietro, Wanda or Tony.”

She looked at you after you didn’t answer straight away, her stare piercing through your eyes and into your soul; if you even had one. “Who was it, Y/N? First name, last name, birthday, I don’t care how much information you give me, because I will hunt them down and make them pay for hurting you.” 

“Nobody can hurt me, my love.” You murmured.

“No? Then why do you wish to hide your true self? I do not love you for that other form, I love you for you.” She retorted hastily, your hands taking hers quickly.

“Okay, okay.” You kissed your hands that encompassed hers, closing your eyes as you sent the name through to her mind.

*James Rhodes.* It echoed as her vision turned red.

“Stay here.” She ordered and you did not move for the time she was gone. 

How long it was, you didn’t know, but she came back with bloodied knuckles and a split lip. You instantly stood, your eyes glowing as you towered over her. “Who hurt you?”

“I fought Rhodey for being an asshole to you. And I won.” She smirked, placing a hand on your chest.

“Breathe, my demon. Relax.” 

You took a deep breath and pushed down the instincts, most of which listened to her command. You then opened your eyes, taking another deep breath before you kissed her knuckles. “Come on.”

You took her to the bathroom and gently cleaned her hands, doing a little bit of magic so that they’d heal faster. You turned her around and kissed her deeply, holding her by her waist so that she wouldn’t fall back.

“Thank you, my love.” 

FRIDAY’s call for dinner had both of you wide-eyed, with Natasha leading you by the arm around your waist. 

“Where is your tail?” She asked.

“Right here, Tasha.” You gently wrapped it around her forearm and watched her visibly relax, realising something. 

Your form was what kept Natasha calm. The familiarity of it. Natasha needed you to be her demon to keep herself controlled. Unfamiliarity brought out the Widow hiding in the crevices of Natasha’s bones, and you knew she could do some damage.

As you entered the kitchen, you could feel the tension in the air. Well, actually, it was just your skin tightening from body language, but that’s the same thing.

“Where’s Rhodes?” Steve asked as he walked in with Bucky, the man giving you a pat on the shoulder with his metal arm before serving himself dinner.

“Medical wing.” Tony replied.

“Why?!” 

“Natasha beat him to a pulp. He had to resort to his War Machine hand to hurt her.” 

He looked over at Natasha and she glared at him. “Have something to say about it?”

“What did he do?” He asked instead.

“Insulted Y/N’s demon biology.” She shrugged, standing in front of you even as your tail stayed on her forearm.

“He did what?” The twins growled, Wanda’s eyes glowing and Pietro’s fists blurring in place.

“Good job, Romanoff.” Tony saluted her, dishing himself some dinner too.

“Wait. You’re all just going to agree with this?” You asked.

“Of course. You are a part of the team. You live here, which is a step up from Rhodey in the friendship circle. You are our friend, and we love having you around.” 

“FRIDAY, what is Rhodey’s assessment of injuries?” Bucky asked the AI.

“One punctured lung caused by five broken ribs, another two on the other side, snapped tibia, humerus and radius, dislocated shoulder, black eye and broken cheekbone.” She reported.

Everybody turned to Natasha, watching her curl your tail around her waist whilst wrapping your wing around her body. “My demon. Nobody hurts her without repercussions.”

The group laughed at her antics before sitting down for the movie, Natasha’s hand in yours as she took you over once she served your dinner. She fed you the dinner, making sure to give herself some too in case you scolded her, before snuggling up to you halfway through the movie.

“I love you, my demon.” She whispered against your collarbone, kissing it after.

“I love you, my human.” You replied, keeping her warm as she fell asleep.

You gladly fell asleep with her.

[chaotic-orphan]

A Month of Whump: Winter Whumperland Day 8 - John McClane

Russian roulette // forced to watch // held hostage

LISTEN DIE HARD IS MY FAVOURITE MOVIE AND THERE IS JUST SOMETHING ABOUT HOW HE IS ALWAYS COVERED IN BLOOD THAT GAVE SEVEN-YEAR-OLD-ME WHUMPERFLIES OKAY!!!

Also I know it’s late, but time is relative, okay?

*~*~*~*~*

“I knew you’d come,” Whumper said with a smile, but Whumpee wasn't paying attention to Whumper. Instead their gaze was locked onto Caretaker who was being held by two of Whumper's henchmen behind where Whumper sat. Whumpee swallowed as they watched realisation dawn on Caretaker’s face. Black blood dried from his left nostril, caked and flaking down his lips. He had dark red bags under his eyes, that contrasted with his too pale face. A giant black bruise took up the bulk of his left cheek, his bottom lip split open.

He barely even looked like Caretaker anymore. Just a shell of who Caretaker was. It had only been two days… the guilt flooded Whumpee the moment Caretaker met their eyes.

“Whumpee no! No!” Caretaker yelled, wild green eyes angry and glaring helpless at Whumpee as he struggled against two of Whumper’s henchmen holding him. “I told you to run!”

“I couldn’t leave you here,” Whumpee said, voice quiet and cold, switching their gaze to glare at Whumper. “Not with them.”

“I do love a good reunion,” Whumper said, standing to greet Whumpee. Whumpee was stiff as Whumper walked towards them. Caretaker was anything but, struggling furiously in the corner his hands tied behind his back, the henchmen struggling to keep Caretaker down.

“Don’t touch them!” Caretaker growled, then suddenly threw his weight to the left and knocked one of the Henchmen into the wall. Caretaker was about to do the same when he saw Whumper grab Whumpee by the throat and slam them back against the wall.

Caretaker froze in place, half hunched ready to pounce on the other henchman but all he could do was look at Whumper’s hand around Whumpee’s throat.

Whumper glanced back at Caretaker knowingly, while Whumpee glared at Whumper and grabbed their wrist with both hands.

“Caretaker, do I have to explain to you again? Who holds the power here, do you need a demonstration old friend?”

“Whumper—”

Whumper sucked in a breath and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Wrong answer, Caretaker.”

“Wait, Whumper!”

Whumper blocked Caretaker’s view of Whumpee with his body, smiling down at Whumpee like this was a professional hazard.

Whumpee threw their body forward and got two inches of leverage before Whumper hummed and slammed them back, their head smacking off the wall.

“Whumper! Stop!”

Whumper’s right hook connected with Whumpee’s cheek and they cried out. Whumpee could still hear Caretaker’s struggles behind Whumper, even over the sound of their own as they tried to push Whumper off of them.

Another punch went to the bridge of Whumpee’s nose, then their jaw, then their lips and then again against their cheek. Whumper released Whumpee’s throat with the final punch and let Whumpee slid down the wall sideways, cradling a hand to their cheek.

He didn’t let Whumpee slide all the way down, grabbing them in the middle of their hoodie and half holding them up.

“Now, Caretaker, is that enough blood for you to learn your mistake or do we need more?”

“You’re a fucking bastard, Whumper!” Caretaker yelled, grunting with the effort trying to get free of the hands on him.

Whumper looked down at Whumpee apologetically. Then he grabbed Whumpee’s head and slammed it against his knee. Whumpee fell to the ground crying out and then gasped when Whumper slammed a foot on their ribs.

“Hurt me! Hurt me, not them!” Caretaker raged, helpless tears gathering behind his eyes. Whumper pressed his heel down harder on Whumpee’s ribs who blubbered, before turning their head as they gurgled a spit bubble of blood before spitting out a glob onto the floor. “Whumper please!”

“Ahh!” Whumper exclaimed happily, immediately taking his foot off of Whumpee’s chest and turning to face Caretaker. “There we go, and they say you can’t teach an old dog new manners.”

“Tricks—” Whumpee corrected, slowly getting to all fours.

Whumper turned and kicked Whumpee to the ground again without looking at them, instead drinking in Caretaker’s struggles.

“Mmm, I have some tricks, Caretaker. You’d know all about that wouldn’t you? I learned some of them from you after all,” Whumper said, something simmering behind the words, looking directly into Caretaker’s fury filled eyes. “Y’know, Whumpee, there was a time when Caretaker protected me this fiercely. A time before you came along.”

“It’s not Whumpee’s fault you turned into a psycho, Whumper.”

Whumper’s nostrils flared as he smiled. “Why, Caretaker, do you want to take the credit for it?”

Caretaker didn’t say anything, just stared at the face of his best friend and saw a stranger looking back at him. Whumper hmphed softly at Caretaker’s silence then turned back to Whumpee who was on all fours again.

Whumper leaned down and grabbed the back of Whumpee’s hoodie, dragging them to their feet with ease even as Whumpee struggled.

“That’s it, it’s alright, come on now, we’re going to play a game. That’s it, settle down now,” Whumper said shoving Whumpee down into a chair. Whumpee fixed their hoodie with a huff, wiping the blood from their nose on the back of their hand. They never took their eyes off Whumper as he walked around the small square table, only big enough to fit two people sitting at it. Whumper took the chair opposite Whumpee where he was sitting when Whumpee first arrived.

Whumper grinned at Whumpee when he finally sat down.

“God, you look so much like an old friend of ours,” Whumper said, looking over his shoulder at Caretaker. “Do you remember Friend? They always had that wildness to them, I only noticed now with the smeared blood and the murderous glint in your eyes. Caretaker was the one to put them down,” Whumper said turning his attention back to Whumpee and winking.

“I don’t care,” said Whumpee, voice cracking after being strangled. “Me for Caretaker, that’s the deal.”

“Whumpee—”

Whumper clicked his fingers in the air and wagged his finger at Caretaker’s protest. “Caretaker I swear to god I will gag you if you interrupt us again. Do you understand? The last word I want from you is yes or no.”

Caretaker let out a begrudging yes, and Whumper smiled again. “Good. Danny, can you get something to gag him with, I feel like we’ll need it before we are finished here.”

Whumper turned his attention to Whumpee again, a dazzling smile on his face as he interlocked his fingers on the table.

“Now, Whumpee. Your deal is a good one, however, I don’t like it because it’s only half good. Either I lose Caretaker or I keep Caretaker but that means I don’t one of you.”

“You can keep one of us though,” Whumpee argued.

Whumper smiled. “Yes. I know,” he replied calmly, then leaned forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I have a better deal.”

Whumpee’s eyes flashed to Caretaker behind Whumper who shook his head before settling on Whumper again.

“Okay. What’s your deal?”

“My deal is far more favourable for both sides, Whumpee. I propose a game… a game of chicken you could say. If you win, I’ll let you and Caretaker go no strings attached.”

Whumpee’s heart pounded against their chest, hope fluttering it faster, harder, louder. They glanced at Caretaker again, whose suspicious eyes were focused on Whumper.

Whumpee swallowed. “And if you win?”

“If I win I get both of you.”

“No,” Caretaker said immediately. “No. Absolutely not, Whumpee walk away. Whumper—”

“Ah! Danny, just in time, shut Caretaker up would you?”

Whumpee stood up but a hand on each of their shoulders forced them to sit back down again. “Whumpee, don’t! Whatever it is don— argh— mmph!”

Whumpee shot up again but was forced back down and the chair pushed in further to the table keeping them sitting. The table edge pressed painfully against their ribs.

Whumper smiled at Whumpee. “Whumpee, I could just as easily take you both right now by force. You’re outnumbered. I could have killed you when you walked in the door but I didn’t, did I? Do you know why I didn’t Whumpee?”

Whumpee swallowed, eyes going back to Caretaker who huffed furiously around the gag.

“Because you’re a fucking monster?” Whumpee asked, raising their brows and dragging their gaze back to Whumper’s stupid smiling face.

“No. It’s because I invited you here for a negotiation in good faith. If you like we don’t have to play and I can just take you both—”

“No,” Whumpee said quickly at the same time Caretaker mumbled out something like a no behind Whumper.

Whumper smiled and sat back into his chair, smile turned smirk now. “So you agree to play then?”

“Yes,” Whumpee said again, not looking at Caretaker who cried out against the gag again.

“Good,” Whumper said. “Very good. Here’s the game.”

Whumper pulled out a revolver that Whumpee had only seen Whumper use once. Whumpee flinched back but didn’t go very far. Whumper grinned as he cocked the gun at Whumpee and Caretaker screamed and struggled with renewed energy against the Henchmen holding him back.

Whumper let out a soft laugh. “Just kidding. God, Caretaker, it’s so easy to rile you up.”

Whumper held the hammer and pulled the trigger before slowly lowering it until the gun wasn’t live anymore. Then he pushed his thumb against the ejector rod and took the round out of the chamber. Whumper then slowly turned the cylinder, and repeated this until all six bullets dropped rhythmically onto the table between them. The entire time Whumper kept eye contact with Whumpee, a soft smirk on his face as he watched Whumpee swallow back the lump in their throat.

“—umph—r—nn—” Caretaker screamed against the gag until the last bullet fell from the cylinder and into Whumper’s awaiting hand.

“You know this game Whumpee?” Whumper asked, cocking an eyebrow at Whumpee.

Whumpee’s throat was suddenly dry, so they swallowed again, before they replied nervously: “I thought you said we were going to play chicken.”

“A version of it,” Whumper said with a shrug. “Russian roulette. Caretaker, Friend and I used to play it all the time as kids.”

Caretaker had tired themselves out, now he stood limp in the hold of the henchmen, glaring daggers at Whumper. Even his stare didn’t have any real bite left to it. Whumpee looked at him with surprise written all over their face.

“Back when Caretaker was fun,” Whumper said, sliding one bullet back into the cylinder and spinning it with the palm of their hand before stopping it and sliding the cylinder back into place. Whumper grinned at Whumpee as he drew the hammer back, loading the chamber.

“I’m a good sport, Whumpee,” said Whumper handing Whumpee the gun. “You can go first.”

Whumpee went to grab the gun from Whumper but froze when they heard another gun cocking in the room. Whumper’s smile turned razor sharp.

“Just in case you get any ideas… if you try to kill me, Caretaker dies too.”

“I got it,” Whumpee said with an edge in their voice. Sick of all the threats Whumper had made in the last five minutes.

“Mmmm. Eager! Wonderful. I knew you’d be an interesting games partner.”

Caretaker cried out when Whumpee put the gun to their own head, swallowing hard. A shiver ran down Whumpee’s spine as they felt the weight of the gun in their hand.

If the shot was in the chamber they would be dead.

This would be it.

They never imagined they’d die from a stupid bet.

God this was so stupid, what were they doing?

Whumpee’s hand started to shake as the realisation slowly dawned on them. They looked at Caretaker who shook his head furiously at them, telling them not to do it.

Whumpee licked their lips trying to get some moisture back in their dry mouth enough to speak. “If I don’t do this, Whumper gets us anyways,” it was an explanation. An excuse that fell from their lips. “Thank you for everything.”

Caretaker cried out again when Whumpee pulled the trigger.

They let out the breath they were holding with a gasp as they dropped the gun to the table, trembling all over. Wild eyes went to Caretaker who had his eyes closed until he heard the gun clatter.

Whumper laughed and grabbed Whumpee’s shaking hands. “Look at that! That adrenaline spike, Whumpee! That’s how you know you’re alive. I barely get it anymore. Watch.”

As soon as the words left his lips, Whumper had the gun in his hand, while his other still held Whumpee’s and pulled the trigger without even blinking.

That stunned Whumpee more than their own turn had.

Whumper grinned and put the gun back on the table, then held out their hand. Whumpee’s eyes went down following Whumper’s movement but true to their word, not even a muscle twitched in Whumper’s hands.

“See why it’s fun now, Whumpee?” Whumper asked again, and Whumpee’s mouth went dry again, realising it was their turn. Again.

They had a one in four chance.

One in four.

25%.

Whumpee didn’t want to bet their life on the one in four chance that when they pulled the trigger they would die.

And yet, after seeing Whumper do it so casually, Whumpee found the familiar weight of the cool metal revolver in their hand once again. Caretaker mumbled out a pathetic “nnnuh” against the gag, but this time a strange calm overcame Whumpee as they pressed the barrel against their head.

They found Caretaker’s hopeless eyes and offered a smile.

“One in four. 25% chance I die, Caretaker. 75% chance I live.”

“Look at you, Whumpee,” Whumper cooed. “Playing the odds. I am so happy you decided to join me today. You are magnificent.”

Whumpee didn’t close their eyes this time.

They pulled the trigger.

The hammer shot against empty air and the recoil sent Whumpee’s hand back away from their head, letting their hand follow the movement to place the heavy hunk of metal onto the table.

“Safe again,” Whumper said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. Then he took the gun and Caretaker cried into the gag.

“-nuf! -umpr- s’enuf!”

Whumper paused this time. His eyes going to Whumpee but looking passed them.

“Someone take their gag off would you?”

Whumpee watched as someone drew the cloth down from around Caretaker’s lips and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Whumper stop this. Please. I can’t watch this. I can’t watch you die!”

Whumper didn’t move for a moment. “You mean Whumpee. You can’t watch Whumpee die.”

“I mean either of you,” Caretaker pleaded, voice genuine. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Whumper arched a brow at Whumpee. “Whumpee. Do you forfeit?”

“No,” said Whumpee. Whumper smiled.

“Sorry Caretaker. No can do.”

Whumper pulled the trigger.

Whumpee started forward, their entire body jerking at the sound. Whumper grinned at Whumpee and put the gun back on the table.

“What’re the chances Whumpee, eh?”

“Stop this! Stop! Whumpee! This is madness. It’s 50/50, you can’t logic your way out of that. Either you die or you don’t, please. Don’t. Whumpee please. Whumper! Listen to me, this is crazy.”

“I will gag you again, Caretaker. This is Whumpee’s decision.”

The words seemed so far away, muted from the blood drumming against Whumpee’s skull. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Fuck,” Whumpee breathed softly. Whumper’s eyes glistened when Whumpee raised their head to meet Whumper’s gaze. “You let me go first.”

“I let you go first,” Whumper repeated with a self-satisfied sigh. His grin grew to a knowing smirk, knowing this was how it would turn out all things going well. “You should have played the odds from the beginning Whumpee.”

Whumpee swallowed, eyes searching for something, something in the back of their brain. Some way they could still win, get Caretaker and themselves out of this.

Whumper let them go first. They were an idiot. The only way they could have won was to let Whumper go first, then if the game played out as it did and they came to the second last bullet Whumper would have had to stop the game and let Whumpee and Caretaker go.

Fuck!

FUCK!

Whumpee reached for the gun. Caretaker cried out. Whumpee savoured the look of surprise on Whumper’s face.

“Fifty-fifty,” said Whumpee, not trying to hide how bad their hand shook as they pressed the cool metal to their temple.

“Whumpee!”

“You’re bluffing,” Whumper said with a smile, but there was doubt behind his words. A game of chicken, Whumper had said. The game only really started when there was two rounds left unfired.

“Either I get free Caretaker and I, or I die and Caretaker—”

“Gets taken in by me,” Whumper said with a laugh. Whumpee narrowed their eyes at him. “Come on Whumpee, if you’re gone I have to take my anger out on someone.”

“You said we’re playing a game of chicken,” Whumpee argued. “If I pull the trigger and die then I didn’t lose.”

“Hmph,” Whumper mused, and maybe it was the crazy talking but Whumpee thought they sounded impressed. "If you're dead how would you know I'd keep my word?"

Whumpee narrowed their eyes and opened their mouth to reply, but Caretaker was the one to break the silence. “Whumpee, Whumpee look at me! Look at me!”

Whumpee fought to keep their gaze trained on Whumper’s face as he chewed on Whumpee’s words.

“Whumpee!”

Whumpee looked at Caretaker with sympathetic eyes. Caretaker had tear marks trailing down his cheeks which stirred up a wealth of guilt in Whumpee’s gut.

“Don’t you dare sacrifice your life for me.”

Whumpee swallowed, trying and failing to keep their voice even. “It’s my life—”

“If you do this and you die, you’re fine! What about me?! I’ll have to carry that guilt—”

“It’s my decision.”

“Really building the suspense here, Whumpee,” Whumper mused, “I’m on the edge of my seat. What a performance! You can pull that trigger now and die, or you can pull it and force my hand to let you both go. What’s worse Whumpee? Dying or living under my care again, hmm?”

Whumpee hesitated.

Whumper continued, “after all the lengths and hoops Caretaker had to jump through to get you out, you just walk back into my arms. Could you live with that guilt Whumpee?”

“Don’t listen to him, Whumpee,” Caretaker said. “He’s lying.”

Whumper’s smile was knowing as he spoke again, “we both know I’m not lying Whumpee. Caretaker’s fate was sealed from the moment he betrayed me, and he wanted you to be out. To be free from me. You come back here, you beat me at my own game you both walk free, the only thing holding you back from this happily ever after is that trigger there, with your index finger resting on it.”

“Whumpee don’t! Please. It’s not worth it.”

“Do it Whumpee. I know you want to.”

Whumpee’s hand moved faster than they thought it would as they aimed the revolver at the henchman with the gun on Caretaker. Whumper laughed at the turn of events as the henchman behind Whumpee grabbed the revolver and snatched it from their hand, keeping Whumpee restrained all the while.

“No! You fuck! Get off me—” Whumpee cried as the henchman handed the gun to Whumper. Whumper took the revolver in his hand with a small surprised laugh.

“I knew you had it in you Whumpee, but to be fair, I don’t think I would’ve pulled the trigger myself. Let’s see, shall we if you would have died or not.”

Whumper turned their body and pointed the revolver between Caretaker’s ear and the wall and squeezed the trigger. Caretaker didn’t flinch.

Whumpee did.

The chamber was empty.

The chamber was empty... Whumpee could have done it. They could have freed Caretaker, they could have freed themselves if only they had the fucking nerve of it.

“Whumpee,” Caretaker said. “It’s okay Whumpee. I wouldn’t have done it either, Whumpee. Whumpee?”

“Were they all empty?” Whumpee asked, voice blank and devoid of any emotion.

Whumper smiled. “Of course they weren’t. Watch.”

Whumper pulled the trigger again and this time Caretaker flinched and fell as the shot went off right at his ear, knocking his centre of balance off. Caretaker fell like a stone but was stopped by the Henchmen from falling flat on his face.

Whumpee started when they saw the blood trickle from Caretaker’s ear, furiously pawing at the henchman holding them back.

“You fucking dick!” Whumpee cried as Whumper reloaded his revolver whistling quite happy to himself. Whumpee twisted and turned and tried to get the arms holding them off so they could scratch Whumper’s eyes out of his stupid fucking skull.

When Whumper was finished loading the gun he checked the chamber and lowered it so Whumpee could see there was a round loaded before cocking the gun and pointing it at Caretaker’s head.

Whumpee immediately stilled and Whumper stopped whistling.

“There we go," Whumper cooed. His voice no longer jovial and mocking, but back to Whumper. The scary Whumper that had kidnapped Whumpee and tortured them everyday. The cold calculating monster. "You haven’t forgotten your training, of course, you’ll have to re-learn some of it, but I think this arrangement will be good for all of us. Something new.”

Caretaker was still half held up by the Henchmen on either side of him, face pale, eyes unfocused. He wouldn’t be able to move suddenly if he had to, and Whumpee was too tired to fight anymore, the adrenaline leaving their body in the same rush that it came with until Whumpee was deflated, body exhausted.

Whumper uncocked the gun, drawing the hammer up and clicking the safety on before holstering it again beneath his jacket. He walked around the table to where Whumpee was still held sitting on the chair and patted Whumpee’s cheeks lightly.

“No need to be a sore loser, Whumpee, you agreed to my terms. Fair is fair,” Whumper’s hand tightened on Whumpee’s cheeks tilting their head up to look Whumper in the eye. “I get you both. Bring Caretaker to the car, Whumpee’s coming with me and Danny here.”

One of the Henchmen handed Whumper an extra pair of handcuffs that he turned over in his hand and clicked open, grinning down at Whumpee. Whumpee was dragged to their feet, Whumper taking Whumpee’s wrist and slapping the metal cuff around their wrist until it bit into Whumpee’s skin. Whumper turned Whumpee until their back was to him and tightened the other cuff unkindly tight.

To add insult to injury, Whumper pulled on the taut chain yanking Whumpee back unbalanced into Whumper’s chest.

The perfect place for Whumper to whisper: “can’t have you running away again, can I?”

Whumpee remained stubbornly silent.

“Whumpee, come on now, the silent treatment? Maybe I should get you a leash and a collar, like a dog so you won't be able to run, hmm? You know, this little game of ours is only drawn even now.”

Whumpee stilled at the words. “What?”

“I’ll explain on the way to the car,” Whumper said, pushing Whumpee forward to walk out the door, hand on Whumpee’s upper arm forcing them on. “I’m an easy man to please, Whumpee. I like to be entertained. That’s why I got you, you were so malleable and vulnerable. You hung onto every word I said just because I gave you attention…”

Whumpee bristled at the reminder of how they were before they met Whumper but stayed quiet, allowing Whumper to finish his little Villainous, victory speech.

“Now could I have chosen someone else? Yes, but they wouldn’t have the brain you had Whumpee. I could tell you were like me from the moment I laid eyes on you, and today has proven it. You were bored with life before me, and you needed something to entertain you. Something to fight against, something to live for.”

“So I took you. We have our fun, but you beat me. You and your clever little cunning brain found a way to defeat me, you used my best friend's kindness against me and you managed to escape.”

“That wasn’t a game,” Whumpee hissed, “you were torturing me.”

“And wasn’t it so fun? I bet you’re just dying to see what I have in store for you now, but our Russian roulette makes us even. I guess you could say that this is the start of our third game together; two worthy opponents, battling it out against each other. Except this time,” Whumper said opening the boot of the car and shoving Whumpee in. Whumpee landed awkwardly on their shoulder, hands restrained uselessly behind them as they stared up at a grinning Whumper.

“This time, I don’t have a friend you can use against me. They’ll be right there with you, a new contender. Extra fun. Aren’t you excited, Whumpee? Maybe this time the roles are reversed and now I have a friend I can use against you. Get comfortable, I've moved my little estate and bought some land in the country. It's going to be a long, long ride.”

Before Whumpee could reply Whumper slammed the boot closed and they were buried in darkness. The sound of the empty chamber firing no bullet replaying in their mind like a broken record.

"Caretaker," Whumpee whispered into the darkness, "I'm so sorry."

*~*~*~*~*

@amonthofwhump

[multiversed-daydreamer]

Shiver and Shake

Pairing: Joel Miller X ADHD!Reader

Summary: Life in the QZ is monotonous and harsh. When it all get to be to much you go to Joel.

Word Count: 3k

Tags: MDNI, PiV sex, oral (f receiving), Fingering, Degradation, Pet names (Dumb baby, baby.) Dom!Joel, Sub!Reader, Dom/sub dynamic

A/N: This is my first TLOU story! Shout out to @gab-thelamb-onthemoon for being my beta. thank you bby! <3 This was super fun to write, I hope yall like it! Please comment what you think! I'd love to hear opinions! :D Check out my Masterlist for more!

You shift under strong hands, looking down to watch broad palms slide over your stomach to your hips. He pauses to squeeze you, fingertips digging in just the right amount while his palms press you into the mattress. You push against him automatically, wriggling around just to feel his hands tighten around you in a warning. Joel’s eyes flash to yours. “Knock it off.” His voice is low but firm. You settle under him, and he keeps going, hands now traveling down your thighs, curling his hands around the backs of your knees to press your legs further apart, his eyes locked on your bare sex, which is glistening with your arousal. His intense stare leaves you blushing, pressing against his hands to close yourself off. You move your arms to reach for him, touch him, and distract him from your body momentarily. But the catch on the cloth around your wrists reminds you that you’re immobilized.  Joel raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk curling on his lips. “Told you to knock it off.” 

You’re unsure why his amusement pisses you off, but it does. Your eyes flash as you yank at your bindings. Joel laughs at you outright this time. “Not getting anywhere, dumb baby.” He taunts. You glare. You’re not sure why that’s the nickname he’s stuck with, but he’s been calling you it since the first night. He pushes your legs further apart as if to demonstrate that he held all of the power tonight. “Lay back and let me have you.” He murmurs, leaning down to nip at your thigh. 

You do your best to settle under him. It’s easier said than done, though. You can feel the goosebumps rising over your skin and the inevitable blush coloring your cheeks as he watches you with dark eyes. He’s still mouthing at your thighs, dragging his lips from one patch of skin to the next, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. He reaches the top of one thigh and goes back to give the other the same treatment. You eye the blossoming marks he's left behind, purple from hickies and red from his beard and teeth. You can feel the air chill in specific spots where his saliva hasn’t dried yet. You pull lightly at the bindings again and feel him suck a new mark into your skin. “Joel.” His name comes out tentatively, already knowing he will reprimand you for attempting to distract him again. Sure enough, he bites down hard on his next spot, making you tug against the bindings and try to close your legs to escape his teeth. “Ouch! Fuck!” 

Strong hands keep you open to him, pinned to the bed and exposed for Joel. It makes you even wetter for him. God, you hate to love this game. This fucked up desire to be pinned down and overpowered by someone else. The fact that you found a partner more than willing to give you just that simultaneously excites you beyond your wildest dreams and fucking terrifies you. What if it’s too much? What if he wants something more normal? What if he’s a fucking psychopath who won’t let you leave if you safeword? Joel’s never ignored your safeword the few times you’ve used it, but what if he-

Another sharp bite makes you yelp and writhe in your restraints. “Damn it, Joel!” Your eyes find his. “That fucking hurt!” 

“Good. Pay attention.” Then he’s moving to hover over your core, waiting until your eyes meet him before he ducks his head and drags his tongue against your clit. Your mouth drops open at the sight of him between your legs. His lips wrap around that swollen bundle of nerves, and he sucks on it until you whimper for him, your eyes blown wide as he captures every ounce of your attention. Joel smirks. You know that’s exactly what he wants—your undivided attention. 

“Atta girl.” He praises, dipping lower to trace the tip of his tongue at your entrance. You shudder above him as he digs in, his tongue going between your clit and your clenching hole to dip his tongue in, letting loose low groans as he tastes your arousal. Flames of pleasure lick at your body as he brings you higher and higher with his tongue, his hands keeping your legs wide open while he devours you. You whimper and moan out into the room, your mind slowly emptying of every thought except for the selfish need to cum. 

He has you pinned, so you can’t push against him, but you can beg, and you do. “Please, please, please. Joel, please let me cum. Wanna cum. So fucking close.” He watches you with dark, amused eyes. He loves watching to get this way, reduced to begging and pleading for him. Your head is empty, and your focus is on him. If his mouth weren’t busy, he’d likely be taunting you. Instead, he sucks on your clit again. Hard. You cry as your orgasm hits, pulling at the bindings and trying to close your legs to escape the blinding pleasure. It doesn’t work. Joel holds you open, lapping at your clit, no doubt enjoying your helpless moans and whimpers as you jerk and twitch the best you can through your orgasm. 

You tremble as he continues, not letting you have any reprieve as his tongue presses inside of you, fucking into you while his nose nudges your clit. He doesn’t pull away or let up, and you cry out under him, shifting to try to escape the oversensitivity. He wants another orgasm from you, and you squeal when he pulls up just enough to scrape his teeth over your clit. “God, Joel! Fuck!” He ignores you entirely and will continue to until he’s bored enough to move on or you’ve reached whatever goal he has set for you in his head. 

He never tells you his plans for you, refusing to tell you the few times you’ve asked. It frustrates you, the unknowing, the way you have to trust him to know what comes next and what you guys do that night. Again you find yourself almost infuriated with how experienced he seems with this type of dynamic. It makes you almost miss your previous partner simply because you had both been young, and he hadn’t been as good at taking control, far more hesitant in misstepping. 

Joel is not hesitant to misstep in the slightest. He seems to know exactly what he wants with you, and he isn’t afraid to poke, prod, and push until you either safeword or give in to him. It’s what you want, hell, what you need. But the fact that he executes it without hesitation leaves you wanting to fight him for the control that you beg him to take from you. He trusts you to safeword should you need to. 

You whine when his tongue swipes across your clit, your body jerking into the touch. He was building you up again, and it felt wonderful. Your hips try to grind into him, chasing that release he’s so desperate to bring you to. But he continues holding you to the bed, forcing you to accept your fate on his terms only. Slowly, the pleasure builds, your muscles relax into the bed sheets, and you close your eyes, hoping to heighten the feeling of his mouth against your core. Slick tongue gliding in and out of you before dragging up to flick at your clit before going back down to your entrance again and again and again. You don’t even notice when your pent-up whimpers turn to soft moans. But Joel does, and on his next stroke to your clit, he wraps his mouth around it and gives you an approving hum. You moan far louder than you mean to at the sensation. The waves of pleasure crest slow but sure over you, your second orgasm softer but lasting longer than the first.  This orgasm left you boneless, weak, and shaking on the bed and thankful for the soft mattress at your back. 

You come down from your high slowly, your body feeling like liquid as you look down to meet dark eyes. Joel slows his ministrations down some, but you still whine and twitch feebly under the rough drag of his tongue. He continues slowly torturing you until tears are pricking your eyes and the fight has left your body. Simply lying there for him to touch exactly as he pleases. Finally, Joel pulls off, propping himself against his elbow and watching your fucked out expression with a gleam in his eyes. Never a good sign. It means he’s still got more for you tonight, and your bones already feel too heavy to fight against your restraints. 

“There you go, head nice and empty now, huh? Dunno why you fight me on this. Look so pretty all fuck-dumb, baby.” He presses whiskery kisses up your thigh, and you whine for him. The scratch of his beard feels annoying and pleasurable at the same time. You have to agree with him, though. You have no clue why you fight him when it feels so good to be like this, pushed so far, you can’t give a fuck about anything but how good it feels for him to touch you in any way. You cry out when he leans up to bite at your hip, his teeth fucking hurt, but you can feel your pussy clenching around the air. 

You’re startled from your post-orgasmic haze when an alarm sounds outside, the robotic voice ringing over the speakers. Some FEDRA officers announced curfew, and those still outside must go home for the evening. You glance towards the window, the brief pull back reality enough to have your mind fighting the slippery hold of submission Joel had put you in. The feeling of a hand caressing down your thigh to your soaking core brings your focus back to Joel. You barely have time to register the feel of his fingers against you before two are pressing inside you and curling to rub against that magical spot that makes you sob under him. “Looks like I get to keep you here tonight. Tied up and unable to leave.” He smirks, letting his predatory gaze linger over your body like a goddamn weight. 

You stay with Joel most nights you two do this, but how he phrases it makes your chest tight with nerves. ‘I get to keep you’ and ‘unable to leave’ reminding you that he technically could if he wanted to. His reputation in the QZ is a firm reminder that Joel is scary as fuck most of the time. You still wonder why he does this with you, but every time you ask questions like “Why?” Joel typically spends the night making sure you’re so fucked out of your mind you can’t think straight, let alone string words together. 

You’re once again pulled out of your head. This time, the curl of his fingers inside of you accompanies the bite he leaves on your torso. “Stay with me,” came the low command. You look at him, glaring down at his wild hair. You'd pay him back if your hands were free by yanking on it. He pulls back to meet your gaze with a glare of his own. He raises an eyebrow and intentionally presses against your G-spot hard. You cry out, hips trying to grind into his hands as he sets a hard pace, two thick fingers rubbing relentlessly against that spot that makes you see stars while his thumb rubs at your clit until you’re being forced over the edge of your third orgasm. He grins at the sight. “That’s it. You’re gonna give me one more before I put my cock in you.” He says low. 

You shake your head and whimper. “I can’t, Joel. Please. Please fuck me.” He shakes his head and slaps your thigh. 

“Hush. You’re gonna do what I want you to do. If you tell me you can’t again, I’ll spank the attitude out of you, and then we’ll start all over again. Understood?” Without waiting for a response, he leans down and captures your sensitive clit between his lips, sucking and licking at it while his fingers continue their assault on the most sensitive spots inside of you. You scream and cry under him, overwhelmed tears falling down your temples to get lost in your hair. He loves hearing the noises you make for him, often taking it as a challenge when you attempt to stay silent. 

You don’t know how long it takes for your next orgasm to hit. It feels like hours. Your body was riding a blissful high so intense it almost hurt when you finally snapped. “JOEL!” You screamed for him as you came so hard you thought you might black out. No sound leaves your mouth. You simply tense up, and your back arches. You stay that way for the entirety of your climax, frozen and unable to process the pleasure as he coaxes you through it. Finally, his fingers let up, slowly guiding your body back down to the bed. You’re not aware of much; that last orgasm rendering you pliant and so out of your own head, you’re barely aware of Joel shifting off of the bed to remove his jeans and flannel. You trail your eyes over his body with a small, loopy smile. He was beautiful, broad, strong, and just overall big, including his thick erection bobbing between his legs and demanding your attention. You moan at the sight, and he chuckles. 

When he climbs back on the bed, he pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning down to kiss you languidly. You moan, letting his tongue into your mouth and eagerly sucking off your own release. He settles between your legs, his hard cock pushing against your thigh. He pulls his mouth away for a moment to position himself better. He reaches down to hook one of your knees over his forearm, pulling it up to spread you open. His knee nudges your other leg, bracing himself so he can reach down and grab hold of his cock. He strokes it a couple of times before rubbing the head of it up and down your slit. “You’re so wet. I bet I could slip right inside, and it wouldn’t even hurt. Do you wanna find out?” He looks down at you, waiting for your answer this time around. 

You nod, whining, eager to feel how full he always makes you. He grins, raising an eyebrow at you, not moving yet. You whimper under him. “Please. Want cock, Joel.” You’re not sure how you managed that many words, but it seems enough for your dominant, who lines himself up at your entrance and pushes all the way inside in one smooth, steady thrust. You cry out from the intrusion. 

He groans over you, his hand coming up to tangle tightly in your hair, pulling your head back firmly into the pillow. He starts at a slow, rough pace, hips grinding into your pelvis every time he bottoms out. “Not even a single ounce of resistance.” He growls into your ear, moaning as he picks up his pace. “Came four times and you’re still begging for cock after you told me you can’t take anymore. Lying slut. You’re gonna lay there like a good little toy and let me use you. Got it?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You gasp out. You cry under him as he fucks into your sensitive pussy. He groans at that. 

“Finally, a correct fuckin’ response outta you tonight.” He snarls. The hand not in your hair curls around your hip, fingers digging into your flesh tight enough to bruise as his pace picks up to something brutal. You scream under him. The way his cock rubs against you makes your muscles tense up and twitch, partially to escape, partially to chase the forced pleasure. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he fucks into you with a wild sort of abandon, pursuing his own pleasure selfishly. 

You don’t know when you got so close to cumming again, but your orgasm is suddenly only seconds away from overtaking you when his hips start to stutter, and a punched-out groan leaves Joel. You whimper, wanting to be the one that cums first. “Please, let me cum, Sir. I’m so close. Please.” 

Joel makes a rough noise from his chest. “No. You’ve cum enough. S’my turn.” His moans go higher pitched, and you whine when you feel his cock twitch inside of you. He chases his pleasure single-mindedly, but it’s enough. You can’t help it. You swear to god you can’t help when your body tightens once more, bliss washing over your body. Joel lets out his own blissed-out noise before pulling out, interrupting your orgasm. You snarl at him, yanking at the bindings holding you down uselessly. You glare up at him. He watches you with dark eyes and a slack jaw as his hand untangles from your hair to grab his cock, fist moving furiously over the tip as he lets out a stuttered noise and then growls as ropes of cum paint your mound and stomach. He fucks his fist through his orgasm, and then he pulls back from you, moving to kneel back. He’s panting, and his other hand gently drops your leg, caressing your thigh. He reaches up and unties your wrists. You pull them down to your chest and rub at them. 

“Color.” He demands breathlessly. You blink up at him. 

“What?” There’s more?

“You disobeyed. I told you not to cum.” 

“It was ruined ‘cause you pulled out.” You snark at him. He folds over you, glaring down at you with a stern expression. 

“You think I give a shit?” He grabs your hair again, yanking it hard. You yelp at the feeling. “Color?”

“Yellow. I’m fine, but I need a break.” You pant out

He scoffs and shakes his head, letting go of you. “Dumb baby can’t do as she's told but needs a break after disobeying.” He glances at the clock on his wall. “One hour. Then I’m turning your ass bright red, dumb baby.”  

“Yes, Sir.” You whisper, already squirming at the thought of punishment.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Oops, Come Dine With Me

It's @taznovembercelebration day 7! Today I got "Cooking" and drew another card, "Bakery AU"

You can read yesterday's prompt here and today's below.

-

Taako answers the phone, tucks it between his shoulder and ear, grabs the cookies, and closes the oven door as quietly as possible with his knee. "Go for Taako."

"Tah-kow, darling, how are you?" Asks an overfamiliar voice. Definitely one of the twins from the production company, Taako isn't sure which one, maybe Edward?

"Cha'boy's just wonderful, thank you so much for asking. How about your good self?" Taako rolls his eyes, but it’s worth playing the game as long as this pays off.

"I'm splendiferous, just peachy, and so thrilled to tell you the outcome of your interview."

Taako waits, there's so much riding on this. If he can just get the money he can afford the bakery. There's no way he's letting Jenkins get it instead, but Jenkins has family money and Taako has one sister who’s as broke as he is. If Jenkins gets it Taako's going to have to leave, going to have to charm his way into another restaurant or bakery because boy does he not have the qualifications for it. His macarons can only take him so far in life. But if he gets to own the shop? Then he can branch out. Taako can bake better than anyone, but he cooks too. He's a baller chef and once the bakery is his he can prove it.

"Are you still there dear?" Edward asks, Taako's fairly sure it's Edward, not that he’ll gamble and use his name yet.

"Yeparooni."

"Aren't you going to ask what the decision was?" Edward sounds pissed off, but Taako hates playing games. It's worth it though, well, if he's got the spot.

"Sure. Did cha'boy knock yours socks off?"

"We were impressed by your skills, and very intrigued by your husband's menu theming - a fan of the macabre you said?" Shit. He didn’t think they were going to ask about it… maybe Taako didn't completely totally and fully think this plan through.

"He sure is!" Taako says brightly. "Big fan of death. Loves a goth bird too, you can probably tell." Taako had channelled him hard when he wrote that menu.

Edward laughs, polite and insincere. "Yes, well, such a shame he couldn't make it to the interviews."

"Mmhmm." Taako replies, attempting the most mournful voice he can muster. "It was deeply difficult to do something so important without him there, but, you just can't argue with explosive diarrhoea, can you?" Well, hopefully he wouldn’t.

Edward makes a choked noise of disgust on the other side of the phone and it fills Taako with vindictive glee. Serves him right, honestly - how dare he ask Taako about the husband he’s entering Couples Come Dine With Me with and mentioned multiple times throughout the interview.

"How..  ah... romantic." Edward's clearly struggling not to let his disgust shine through and failing miserably.

"Thank you, we're very deeply in love." Taako says, doing his best impression of Taako Tacco: married guy.

Edward chuckles. "I'm sure you are, and that you'll be delighted to hear that you get to demonstrate that love to the nation - you’ve been selected for the show!”

Edward’s so effusive that Taako feels he should do more to celebrate than a silent fistpump. “Wowwee! Golly gee! What wonderful news!! I’m jumping for joy!” Taako does jump, three times, just in case Edward can hear somehow.

“I’m so glad you’re excited. We’ll just need you and, Kravitz to meet with the producers to hand in your final menu and we can discuss filming your sections.” Edward’s in business mode now.

“Just to check…” Taako ventures. “... just in case, you know, it comes up, what would happen if my beloved, darling Kravitz were still too unwell to take part?” Taako tries to sound as innocent as possible, it’s a perfectly ordinary question, anyone would ask it.

Edward laughs once. “He won’t be, Taako.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” That sounded like they’d marionette his corpse round if he tried to back out.

“It’s <i>Couples</i> Come Dine With Me, Taako. No husband, no shot at the prize, we’ve got back up couples.”

“Uh huh.” Says Taako, cool, totally normal, nonchalant, in fact. “So, if he were ill, could I bring a friend? My sister would do it.”

“That’s not really the kind of show, not to judge of course, but the couples do have to be legal. Anyway, ta ta! Watch out for the email from production.” 

Edward’s gone. Taako stands alone in the kitchen with a tray of cookies and the mess he created. He pulls out his phone:

Taako [15:27] Hey Krav, wanna get married?

[madamebristow]

True Power

This fic was originally posted on my blog, mbcartoons. (Blog deleted) So, I decided to post this almost a year old fic again!

Characters belong to Nintendo. Dialogue and Story belongs to @jell-o101

TW: Mentions of Death and Violence

WILL BE WRITING NEW REMEMBER THE TIME CHAPTER SOON!!!!

Oh, this was bad. Mario looked on in horror at his baby brother squirming around in that weird turtle-dragon’s claw. How did they get to this point? One minute, they are in the flooded streets of Brooklyn, New York and the next, they’re battling a lovestruck turtle dragon. “Put back the Super Star,” Bowser threatened Mario. “Or this twerp learns how to fly WITHOUT POWER-UPS!” Bowser put Luigi over the sea of molten lava below the castle the crew was in. Luigi was terrified looking at how high he was from the lava. The heat made him sweat where he didn’t know he could.

Mario couldn’t even think about Luigi dying. How would he go on? How would he explain this to their parents? “LUIGI!” Mario called out to his brother. “Toad...do what he says!” Toad put the Super Star back on its platform before racing down to his monarch who welcomed him with open arms. “Okay…okay,” Mario tried to comfort Bowser and frankly, himself. “You have what you want, just, let him go. He means the world to me. So please, let him go.” Mario felt a lump grow in his throat. “Mario,” Luigi called out to his brother, his voice small. He felt like that little kid on the playground who was always getting bullied. Bowser rolled his eyes. “That's the thing about the people you love. The more you love 'em, the more it hurts when they go. Allow me to demonstrate.” Then, he let go of him.

Luigi was falling to his death. Tears fell from his cheeks as he fell to his demise.

Everyone looked on in horror. Luigi was gone. Mario’s world came falling around him. The red-hatted plumber dropped to his knees. Luigi was gone. He couldn’t be. Mario thought about his last moments with his brother before they were sucked into this situation.

“Nothing can hurt us as long as long as we're together!”

“You're gonna bring your brother down with ya..."

“I hope you told your brother how much you love him..."

"Mario...you're not bringing me down!"

Mario grabbed his chest, he felt like he had just been stabbed right in the center of his heart. His other half was gone, and it was all that evil turtle’s fault. That’s when he was sent into a blind rage. “Give him back,” That’s all Mario could say at that point. He shakily stood up.

Meanwhile, Peach took a Tanooki leaf and ran to the sea of lava. She jumped in and started flying around looking for the other Mario brother. Then, she saw him, falling. He was two inches away from being burned alive.

“I’m sorry, what?” Bowser asked. “Give. Him. Back.” “What? You told me to let him go, and I let him go!” Mario ran up to Bowser and pounced at him. “I am a Koopa of my word-” Mario punched him square in the jaw, knocking out one of his humungous teeth. The tooth landed in front of Donkey Kong and Toad. “NO WAY!” Toad exclaimed. Bowser was pushed to one of the windows in his castle. The sea of lava right below him. Bowser gained his balance before stepping forward to Mario, who was ready to fight. “First, you try to push me out the window AND break my tooth? How pathetic can you be?” Bowser didn’t get to finish his sentence because Mario had knocked him down.

While on the floor, Bowser grabbed the plumber and breathed fire at him. Mario stopped the fire before it could reach him. The interruption made Bowser start coughing. Mario grabbed the Koopa King’s tail and was about to swing him around. “OH NO YOU DON’T!” Bowser wiggles his tail up and down trying to flick Mario off. Despite the wiggling, Mario still held on, and then, the plumber swung Bowser around. “GIVE. HIM. BACK!” Then, Mario let Bowser go. The king flew to the sea of lava and fell to his demise.

Mario stood on the ledge with sweat and tears rolling down his face while DK and Toad were left shocked at how Mario fought Bowser. “And he did all that without power-ups,” Toad finally said, breaking the silence. “Why didn't he fight ME like that?” DK wondered. Toad noticed that the Princess was gone and also something else. “The Princess seems to have gone somewhere. We need to… Mario, you're standing AWFULLY CLOSE to that edge.” Mario didn’t respond, all he did was look at the sea that his brother died in. “OK Listen, I'm sorry for what happened to your brother,” Toad explained. Then, DK and Toad saw something green and blue zoom past them.

Mario couldn’t hear anything the little guy was saying. All he could think about was his brother. Luigi was dead. He had gone somewhere that Mario couldn’t. All Mario wanted was to be with his brother. “Dad was right. I did bring him down,” Mario thought.

Mario couldn’t even hear the person calling his name. “MARIO!”

“It's my fault…”

“MARIO!” Mario took a step forward and was about to jump. “Luigi...I can't wait to see you again…” Then, someone wrapped their hands around Mario’s waist and brought the both of them back from the ledge. Then, everything went black.

A few seconds later, Mario opened his eyes and looked up to see him. Luigi. “Mario!” Luigi exclaimed tears streaming down the younger Mario’s face. Mario sat up to face his brother. This had to be a dream. He saw Luigi fall to his death. It didn’t matter what it was, Luigi was okay. Tears streamed down Mario’s face. “T-the Princess and the...the bear thing, it... I'm here and...the sounds, I heard it all,” Luigi told Mario. “You'd be surprised at how much you can hear when you're falling towards your death, haha! Like when you yelled, "GIVE HIM BACK!" That was cool! And the fighting and the shouting...it was… well...I knew I had to get back to you, so when I heard the little mushroom man, My bro misses me so, I… Mario, what were you gonna do?” Mario couldn’t contain it, he pushed himself into his baby brother and started sobbing. “LU!” Mario exclaimed. “I’m here Mario,” Luigi comforted his Fratello. Donkey Kong gagged at the sight of the brothers hugging. “Ew, stop being gross,” DK said. In response, Toad hit him with his frying pan. “OW!” DK exclaimed. Then, the two started fighting.

Peach, still in her tanooki (or bear) costume, walked up to the brothers. “With Bowser out of the picture, we can safely take the Super Star away for safekeeping,” She said, happily. “I don't know if this matters to you two, but I have your caps.” The two stood up and put on their caps. Then, Mario thought about something. What if this was a dream? What if Luigi was still in that lava and Mario was hallucinating the whole thing?

“Lu?” Mario asked Luigi. “Hm?” Luigi answered. Mario put his hands on his brother’s cheeks. “How do I know that you're real and actually here?” “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be able to do this! Hyah!” Luigi poked his brother’s belly. “Luigi, nooo!” Mario chuckled. He pulled Luigi into an embrace. Luigi was alive. He was okay. And that’s all Mario needed.

[rulesforthedance]

Sunday was the one-year anniversary of my first date with N. Neither of us remembers what day we became "official," so we count our first date as our anniversary. She told me weeks later she'd been half-expecting me to stand her up because I hadn't seemed very interested in my texts. I didn't want to be too forward! I have this problem a lot. We went roller skating, her idea--she thought she'd remember how from her childhood, but she didn't, and I lent her my knee pads and she made good use of them. It was also, unfortunately, Organ Day at the rink, so we shouted to each other through our masks while the live organist blasted deafening showtunes on the Wurlitzer. Fortunately she gave me a second date anyway.

Life with N is so good it feels like it shouldn't be possible (DON'T JINX, KNOCK ON WOOD, KINA HORA). I didn't think I was allowed to have this. I am learning how it is to have a partner whose love you never doubt, who is your home, and to get to be a home for her, too. Some of the moments I love her most are: when she is doing a silly dance at an unexpected time, when she is being very sweet to Henry, when she is telling me about her work as an environmental lawyer (which is hard and she is doing it because she cares about it so much, which is what makes it so moving and compelling to listen to her), when she is arguing jocularly and brilliantly with her lawyer friends over drinks, when she is finding a way to talk to me about something important even though it is uncomfortable for her (because it demonstrates that Doing Our Relationship Right matters as much to her as it does to me, and that she is brave and thoughtful), when I am holding her while she is sleeping, when she is holding me as I fall asleep.

We'd been planning to go out for a nice dinner on Sunday, but it was 100 degrees, which is too hot for a restaurant patio, and we don't eat (or take our masks off) inside restaurants (or any other buildings that aren't our home). So N made BBQ chicken nachos like she used to have in college in Mississippi and I made margaritas. We filled our kiddie pool (juuust large enough for two adults to sit in, if they're willing to have their legs all over each other) in the backyard and sat in it to eat our nachos and drink our margaritas. Ideal party. (When Mary Oliver said "Each time it solved a great many things but not everything. Yet left me as grateful as if it had indeed, and thoroughly, solved everything.")

[thatfangirlofsb]

T/W: Grishaverse spoilers.

Your highness (VI)

"Zoya..."

"Leave me alone, Nina."

The squaller was packing up the few belongings she had for the trip. A week ago they had returned from Hellgate with Matthias and, between several assassination attempts against the grisha and escapes by the drüskelle, they had managed to elaborate a plan to go to Os Alta.

Zoya didn't want to, but mainly to hide that now so obvious pregnancy. She had asked Nina to do it with her tailoring skills, but she couldn't; so now she could only use a cape that each day served its function less.

"Never..."

"Even though we're fucking deserters, imagine I'm still your general." That hurt immensely, she had turned her back on Ravka because of the simple illusion that the sun summoner had managed to plant in her. "Shut up and don't talk to me."

"What a pity, because we are fucking deserters and you are no longer my general." Nina looked at her sympathetically, and Zoya lifted her chin haughtily to meet her eyes with that fierce look she always had. "How did it happen? It's not something that takes place every day."

"Why don't you ask your drüskelle? I'm sure he'll give you a demonstration and…"

"Let's keep Matthias out of this." Zoya rolled her eyes. Despite everything that the damned grisha hunter had done to her comrades and friends, Nina kept foolishly trying to get close to him. Was that love, or was it actually the drüskelles who used witchcraft?

"I'll tell you all you want as long as you don't name that one to me." She sat down on the cot with a sigh. She had slept in worse places, but with the pregnancy her sensations increased, and the discomfort she felt every night having to rest there caused her insomnia. "One day, we got too close and we ended up having sex. It was repeated and repeated until the wedding, when I left knowing that I was already carrying our baby. I told Alina before the ceremony, and she made me think that we could find a solution , him and me, to be able to be... together." She lifted her chin, as her common movement to control the feelings that bubbled up in her. "I was going to have an abortion, I had everything planned, but the image of a future with him and the baby... blinded me. So I waited, I waited for the damn ceremony to end. I stayed there suffering, waiting for him to turn around and go to me. But none of that happened, and when everyone had gone to the banquet I left." She moved her leg when she felt Nina's hand on her knee. It was Zoya Nazyalensky, she didn't receive words or signs of consolation. "And now I know that another girl is impersonating me. And I'm worried about how she's playing general for Ravka, but…also what she's doing with him. Even if I'm not the kind of girl with nice words… you don't know how soft he gets when he hears one."

"Do you like him." Zoya turned her head and stared at her. "I mean...yes, General."

"I am no longer a general."

"You can still be the one of that king's heart."

"Nina!"

And they would have continued annoying each other if a knock on the open door hadn't interrupted them.

"Nina." Kaz tapped the raven head from his cane at the door, turning and walking down the stairs again. "They are looking for you." He said before disappearing from the sight of the two grisha.

"I am required." The humorous tone returned to the heartrender's voice. "I hold a very important position here."

"Yes? Then I'll go with you to see how important you are."

"If you catch up with me."

Nina began to run down the stairs, but trying not to step too hard on those rickety planks and fell to the bottom next to it. Zoya couldn't be that fast, the extra weight she was carrying made her stagger sometimes. So her hands gripped the railing tightly and she started going down, sometimes even sideways for more stability.

When she got to the end, Nina was already on the strange ground floor of the club. Her feet still and her hands on each side of her hip without making any movement.

"Is Helvar trying to kill you again?" She asked with a laugh as she approached her. "He will never learn."

"Zoya!" What was Genya doing there? And why was she looking at her with that face between evil and surprise? Oh no, she had seen it. "Zoya?"

"I reacted the same, but in reverse."

And Nina's mouth moving to speak was the last thing she saw before she felt arms tighten around her and lips moving against hers.

[°°°]

"That hurt."

"Not enough if you keep talking."

If Zoya was about to hear Nikolai complaining again about how his head had hit the table after being pushed, she was going to lose her patience completely. Who would think of throwing themselves at someone to kiss that person? Ah yes, the King of Ravka.

"But..." Zoya looked at him with dagger eyes, and he didn't do anything dumber than keep talking. "I was looking for you a lot, I even lost hope and now... saints." His gaze fell to the girl's belly, to which one she put over a coat trying to hide it. "We'll be..."

"Stop, let's not start assuming things." Her eyes rolled back for a few seconds before she spoke again. Couldn't her life get worse? "Why do you think the baby is yours? I've been traveling around so many places, it could be anyone's." She was exaggerating a bit, she hadn't been to that many places, although she would do whatever it took to not put up with that big smile that the blond put on his face when he saw that lump. "Maybe from a Fjerdan, wood is very expensive and you have to find new ways to keep yourself warm." The squaller turned her gaze towards the drüskelle and smiled, since he was there, she was going to bother him too. "Maybe it's from Matthias."

Nina's 'don't know what' choked on the glass of water he was drinking. And the heartrender ran to his side and placed her palm against the opponent's back trying to help him. But this only caused him to cough more forcefully and almost fell out of his chair. Zoya, with a haughty smile, returned her gaze to Nikolai, she was going to try to read his reaction but the drüskelle's voice sounded again.

"Get off me, witch!" The blue-eyed girl rolled her eyes, and before turning around to fix that, she flashed a slight smile at the blond in front of her. "One moment." Her body rotated and she extended her hands towards the fjerdan, slowly sucking the air out of him causing the glass to fall to the ground and break; so he couldn't use it as a weapon. "Do you want to go back to your fucking igloo?"

"It's called the Ice Court." He corrected her, trying to catch air again. "Damn witch."

"And that's what I said, drüskelle." She turned around again, letting the air pass freely through that boy's lungs again. She would regret it later, but before she had several more important things on her list. "How could you find me if there is a Zoya Nazyalensky in Os Alta?"

"She's clearly not you." The grisha raised an eyebrow, visibly curious for a longer explanation. "She's kind and smiles."

"A lot." Genya noted, before beginning to contribute her own information. "She, Alina and I were taking a walk... and she told us that she loved her job."

"Well, that's not a lie either..."

"Especially the part about putting up with Nikolai." The squaller's surprised eyes made a small smile appear on the redhead. "Well... however, now I don't know if that's something impossible."

"If you look at my belly, I swear I'll throw you some air." She raised her hands, in a clear threat that she wasn't sure if she would be able to carry out. "Bye to my respect in the Little Palace."

"No, hardly anyone has noticed." Nikolai smiled, like that was cool. Would he like the fake version more than the real me? Zoya thought, regretting it after a few seconds. "Except the little students and Fedyor."

"Fedyor?" How could that boy, so cheerful, have noticed? He wanted all people to be the same as him, and now that he had made the cold 'Zoya' to be... he doubted? "He says it looks like you've had a heat stroke and then you're going crazy."

"And the students?" Zoya cut through Nikolai, crossing her arms over the belly as she waited for an answer. Those little grisha at least knew how to recognize her. "Two inferni and a durast messed up your kefta on purpose to test their thoughts." Genya nodded her head when she saw the stunned face of the squaller, when they'll returned with her... poor students. "And when the fake Zoya found out, she wasn't upset, she even praised them for their artistic skills."

"We're going to Os Alta, now." She turned her gaze to Brekker, and he gave her a small smile.

That trip no longer seemed so bad.

—————

You can see the list of fanfics with all parts of this fic so far HERE.

[dungeonbf]

sjw antics

part of an art trade i did with @boykujou :3 featuring his s/i, christian libertarianism and anarcho-communism <3 tw for brief drug use — ancom uses qui/he and chris lib uses he/him

“Have you ever smoked before?”

Ancom asks, eyes dark and shiny as qui passes the lit blunt to Christian Libertarianism.

The two are seated mere inches away from each other on the sofa. Chris practically sinks into the couch, knees knocking into Ancom’s as he sits up.

Chris shakes his head mutely and inhales deeply, erupting in a coughing fit as he exhales.

“I should Wikipedia how to do this, no fuckin’ clue what I’m doing.”

“You just, y’know, inhale. It’s easy.”

Ancom grins, quis face spreading into an easy smile as qui tries to demonstrate. With the joint in one hand, qui mimics inhaling through the mouth and exhaling through the nose.

“Like that. You should get the hang of it, Chris.”

“I don’t normally partake … it’s new.”

“Lucky you have me then. I’m the best — and only — smoker I know.”

“Charming.” He snorts, rolling his eyes slightly as he accepts the blunt and takes a short drag, careful not to start choking up again.

Ancom eyes the lack of space between them with interest, his fingertips ghosting over Chris’ knee cautiously.

“This okay?”

Chris looks at the hand on his knee with curiosity, but doesn’t flinch. “Yeah, yeah, it’s — it’s fine.”

He takes another hit before passing the blunt back to Ancom, ignoring the heat rising high on his cheeks. It’s just the THC roiling in his system. Nothing else.

“It’s hot in here.” Chris palms at the back of his neck, feeling beads of sweat roll down between his fingers.

Ancom hums quietly in response, stubbing out the blunt with quis free hand — “I think you’ve had enough. Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Slowly, qui moves his hand from Chris’ knee up to the curve of his jaw. “You’re handsome, you know that?”

Quis voice is soft and gentle as he strokes quis thumb back and forth over Chris’ jaw. They’re much closer now, Ancom looming over Chris’ lap, half-tempted to sit down. With each movement, they’re pressing closer - knees touching, arms brushing against arms.

“So pretty, Chris.”

In a slightly thick Southern drawl, he mewls demurely: “Thanks … you, too.”

He wants to say more, he wants to spill every single thought rolling around in his skull - how he thinks of Ancom every time he catches a glimpse of My Little Pony or when he sees a cat walking around and how, when it’s dark and he’s all alone in the confines of his room, he fucking aches for Ancom’s arms around him.

Instead, Chris softly sighs and watches the ideology’s every movement, entranced.

A few minutes pass in relative quiet - the only noise being the two’s breathing, hot breath mixing together.

Ancom stares back, glassy pupils blown wide, quis thumb still absentmindedly stroking Chris’ jaw.

“Can I?”

Chris doesn’t have to say anything — there’s a mutual understanding of just how badly they both want this — an unspoken craving, a desire. He still nods regardless, eyes closing in anticipation. He’s subtly trembling, as if each individual atom inside him is begging for more.

Ancom slides his hand from Chris’ jaw to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as qui delicately, tentatively presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Qui sighs, body emanating a greenish hue with how excited qui is — “Was that okay?”

“More than okay.”

Their foreheads touch, sweat mixing before Ancom shifts and begins to pepper the other ideology in loving kisses, starting with the tip of his nose before moving on to his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, and finally, his lips once more.

Chris bites back a laugh, soaking up the affection eagerly — “I think I like you, Ancom.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He rolls his eyes at quem, flicking the side of quis neck, “I take it back, I can’t stand you. At all. My least favorite extremist. I hope you die.”

Ancom giggles in reply, a high, whistle-y sort of noise. It’d be grating if it was anyone else.

“C’mere.”

The two ideologies lean against each other, arms tangled around waists in a loose embrace, hearts beating in tandem. Ancom murmurs against the crook of Chris’ neck and shoulder, “Stay with me.”

“I will.”