#i very confidently drew a leash where it was not supposed to go and then had to erase it lol

[fobnsfwdoodles]

Cleaned up Joetrick puppy play comic just dropped

[prideful-sins]

Lucifer X GN!MC x Diavolo: Spitroasted like a boar

This is mature content 18+, you have been warned!

Ya’ll knew this was coming and I hope you enjoy it.

Ships: Diavolo X Gender Neutral! MC X Lucifer

Tags: Mature, Sexual, 2nd person (You), slight choking, double penetration (As it’s gender neutral: oral and anal), Body Worship, Rimming

Word count: 6.9K

AO3 Link

Masterlist | Buy Me A Coffee?

--

You sat within the walls of one the palace’s drawing rooms, thumbs twiddling around themselves as you looked upon the portraits, lighting fixtures, ceiling, and the furniture, in awe. The room was quiet, save for some music playing far off in the background of the palace somewhere, a soft and comforting classical piece that set your soul at ease.

Barbatos came to the house of Lamentation under Diavolo’s orders, he had asked you to join him and Lucifer for dinner tonight and you were more than happy to accept, truth be told, you’d always had a small crush on Diavolo, his happy-go-lucky attitude, his willingness for peace, the way his smile lights up the room no matter what, and his demon form made it oh so much harder for you to resist him. The horns, his markings, his eyes, his abs, his-

“MC?” A soft voice pulled you out of your lustful thoughts and you swung around to see Barbatos, “My Lord wishes you to join him now” he bowed slightly, with a small smile, and his hand resting on his chest.

You stood up and smoothed down your clothes, “Oh! of course” you said, bowing in reply. You walked towards Barbatos, who had turned his body to the side in order to let you through the door.

--

“MC truly is a wonder, aren’t they?” Diavolo was stood out on the balcony of the palace’s 5th drawing room, one of his favourites, with a glass of wine in hand and a cool breeze caressing his face.

“Indeed, a mere human able to make pacts with 6 of the members of the Student council truly is astounding” Lucifer replied solemnly, he was sat down within the room, by a table, wine glass half full and bottle residing next to it, some entrees had been laid out as a snack before the main meal.

“You don’t sound very pleased about that” Diavolo turned around and gave Lucifer a sly smile.

“My brothers are free to do as they please” a slight tone of resentment as Lucifer took a small sip of his wine, eyes keeping to the glass.

“Why haven't you made a pact with them?” The Prince walked towards the seat opposite Lucifer, a raised eyebrow and knowing smirk as his confidant eyed him suspiciously.

“If MC were to use my brothers against The Devildom, or specifically, you, I’d not like to be following their orders against my will” Lucifer’s eyes darted between his glass, the wall, and Diavolo’s dastardly stare.

Diavolo gave a chuckle, “I hardly think MC would do that, there’s another reason and you’re not telling” a teasing tone to his last words as Diavolo gave his best to try and get information.

“I suppose I’m afraid of being put on a leash, happy?”

“What if it were MC on the leash?” Diavolo’s remark was snide, his eyes glazed over with an abnormal type of lust mixed with a knowing tone, Lucifer raised a conservative eyebrow to Diavolo’s remark, the conversation was cut short by a knock at the door prompting Diavolo to chuckle and shrug, “yes?”

Barbatos’ head poked around the door, “MC is here My Lord” he said as he swung the door open to reveal you, who gave Diavolo a smile and a wave.

“Ah, the star of the show!” Both Diavolo and Lucifer stood up to face you as you walked into the room, Diavolo placed his glass down and walked up to you to envelop you within a hug, something he had insisted upon once you had given your consent in the past. 

“A show I’m not aware of?” You gave a small chuckle as you patted Diavolo’s, seemingly huge, back.

“Hello MC” Lucifer’s voice was soft as you pulled away from The Prince and gave the brother a beaming smile.

“Nice to see you again Lucifer, it’s only been a few hours but it feels like days” Perhaps you’d come off a little strong but Lucifer had always held a dear place in your heart, right next to Diavolo, or in between them, sandwiched in their-

“Indeed, the hours seem longer without your company” Diavolo remarked as he gestured to a third seat at the table, which you happily took, Lucifer nodding to the statement. “Thank you Barbatos” Diavolo gave Barbatos a smile before waving his hand and dismissing him.

You rolled your eyes to their compliment as you raised your hand to the back of your neck, “Somehow I don’t think that’s true but I’ll accept the compliment anyway” you let out a giggle as your hand dropped into your lap.

--

You had spent the next few hours eating, drinking, laughing,drinking, flirting, drinking, and talking with Lucifer and Diavolo. You hadn’t felt the time fly by at all you’d been having such good fun with the duo, and the wine, that it just wasn’t at the forefront of your mind.

“-he ran out of the room, bare ass shining in the moonlight as the rest of the guests cheer and clap for his sheer gusto!” You and Diavolo guffawed at the story’s ending, hands slapping against thighs and feet bouncing on the floor, Lucifer, in the other hand, merely chuckled into his wine glass, composure kept close to his chest.

“Oh my god that’s hilarious!” You tried your best to make coherent words as you wiped a tear from your eye, “you really have to applaud his tenacity!”

“Indeed, I’m not sure what I would have done in the same situation” Lucifer added as he chuckled along.

“I don’t think anyone would Lucifer!” Your hand came to rest on his leg as you laughed once more, his gaze was now fixed upon your hand as a redness dusted his cheeks, or was that the alcohol? Upon realising your hand had lingered for longer than socially acceptable for friends you withdrew and cleared your throat.

“Say, MC?” Diavolo’s voice piped up and you turned to meet his eyeline giving a small ‘Hm?” in reply, “has anyone told you you have truly beautiful hair?” Diavolo raised a hand to entwine within your locks, his fingers dancing happily between the strands, bringing an instant blush to your face.

“We-well no, not unless they were trying to get something from me” You chuckled nervously and looked away, but Diavolo only got closer, his face now inches away from yours.

“Like?” His breath was hot on your face, voice hoarse and low, hand now cupping your cheek tenderly, your ass on the edge of your seat as you leaned into the caress.

“We-well li-like, uhm”

“Like this? Maybe?” Your lips met his, softly, tenderly, your world being enveloped by him in that moment as his hand pulled you into him more and more. Your hand instinctively reached out and softly grabbed his bicep, just as a way of grounding yourself and telling yourself this isn’t a dream. Wait, was the Prince of The Devildom really kissing you? You??? 

“Ahem” You had gotten so lost within Diavolo’s world that both of you had forgotten about Lucifer sat less than 2 metres away from you.

Diavolo pulled away from you, slightly, and breathed a huffy sigh, “If you’re so annoyed at not being included you’re welcome to join in”

“Maybe I will” Lucifer stood up as Diavolo smirked and pulled away from, a very dazed and red, you. He leaned down, placed his fingers gently under your chin and lifted your face to meet his gaze, “May I?” You nodded in flustered agreement and Lucifer took no time at all to resist you. 

His lips were slightly rougher than Diavolo’s, stress biting making them seem a little coarser, but the kiss itself was entirely different. Hot and steamy as he jerked his face into yours just a little more, his other hand coming down to the arm of the chair you were sat on to support his body weight, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip ever so slightly in an act of domination and invasion. The hand from under your chin moved to the back of your neck, keeping you steadily against Lucifer, untold feelings and devotion radiating from him.

As Lucifer pulled away from you, your eyes opened, half lidded and clouded, a breath finally left your throat as a low, drawling, sigh, and your chest relieved it’s tension. Your rose coloured vision finally cleared and you saw a pair of deep, red, eyes staring back at you, filled with lust and a desire to tear your clothes off of your body. The rustling of fabric, from behind Lucifer, awoke you from your state, you saw Diavolo standing, his hands coming up to the buttons on his jacket, fingers nimbly wrapping around them, and then his back. The Prince’s jacket was shrugged off of his shoulders and thrown onto the chair he had just left. 

“MC?” The Prince’s voice was soft and deep, a compliment to his kiss.

“Yes?” Your voice, on the other hand, was barely above a whisper, your soul had already departed it’s mortal vessel because of the kisses you had received, your body was rebelling, it wanted to soar directly up into The Celestial Realm where your emotions had flown so high.

Lucifer pulled away from you, his hand’s touch lingering upon your skin, and you stood up to meet Diavolo’s eye.”I have to say, I’ve admired you from afar for quite a while now” a few buttons of his shirt had been undone and the tie loosened from his neck.

“Y-you have?” The raw sexual energy that Diavolo was exuding right now had made you timid, your breath was quick and expecting, hands fumbling around with the hem of your clothes, voice barely even there as you stared a hole into his throat and collarbone.

“Indeed, there’s something about you, you know” he took a step forward and placed a hand under your chin, so soft that you could barely feel it, so your body reacted unintentionally bringing you deeper into his touch. “You draw people, demons especially, close to you. That personality, that smile, that laugh, all of you” Diavolo drew in close once more, his lips now a mere inch away from yours, the breath of his words hot upon your own raggedy sighs, “and I,for one, just can’t get enough of it”

“I’ll admit” you had gained a little confidence now, knowing what the situation was becoming, and your voice told that. The whisper was now a bratty purr as you brought your hands to rest on Diavolo’s hips, “I can’t seem to get enough of you, either of you” you bit your lips as your eyes darted between Diavolo’s lips and eyes, anxious in anticipation. You brought your face just that little ways closer to his, your lips touching in the faintest of ways, a low, almost unheard, growl came from The Prince before he made your lips touch.

As you kissed Diavolo, you heard more rustling of fabric behind you, what you could only assume was Lucifer shedding off some of his layers, too. “MC?” You heard Lucifer’s voice mumbling from behind you as a gloved hand came upon the crook of your neck, the other resting on your waist. Lucifer’s head came to rest on the other side of your neck, his lips dotting small kisses onto your skin, each contact sending a wave through your spine.

You pulled away from Diavolo and brought your foreheads together, small pants escaping each of your bodies. “Yeah?” barely a whisper of reply to Lucifer’s question as he kept dusting his lips upon you.

“You know what we’ve been doing, and what would come” you looked over at Lucifer, head leaning on his hand as your half lidded eyes met his own, a small nod, once more, in reply to his statement. “Do you wish for this too? Do you want this as much as we do?”

Never did you think this day would come, having Lucifer and Diavolo want you like this was a dream come true, something you’d wished upon yourself for weeks with no intent of it ever actually happening. Barely a heartbeat was skipped before you nodded, whispering a “Yes. Please, yes.”, one of your hands leaving Diavolo’s hip and coming up to rest upon the hand on your neck.

Diavolo muttered, “you don’t know how long we’ve waited for this MC” You were sandwiched between these two, beautiful, men and now both of them were kissing on your neck, “months of yearning to touch you like this” the words were muttered between the kisses he placed on your neck.

“I- I’ve wanted this, too- aah” Diavolo and Lucifer bit down on your neck at the same time, in very sensitive spots, making you moan, a lot louder than you had wanted to, and leading your knees to buckle ever so slightly, “alot longer than I care to admit” your words were broken by pants, very heavy pants and sighs. Lucifer licked up the back of your neck ever so slightly and bit down once again, softer this time, you raised a hand and threaded it within his hair edging him into a soft moan.

Diavolo removed his lips from your neck, the area screaming for him to return as the cool air hit your raw skin, and placed them upon your own. Once more, a soft kiss from The Prince, your eyes instinctively closing with the touch, eyebrows furrowing upwards as your hand grabbed at Diavolo’s shirt, tugging it out from the waistband it was tucked into.

Lucifer’s hands came around your stomach, resting upon the hem of your clothes, one hand sliding upwards to come into contact with your bare skin. It reacted, a shock wave was sent directly through your spine as his fingers made contact with your stomach, painted nails curled and digging, just slightly, into your skin.

Your hands worked nimbly around the edges and frays of Diavolo’s shirt, hunting for buttons to undo but your fingers just weren’t working with your brain, you struggled to find them amongst the clouds of your mind. “Let me” Diavolo whispered, his hands leaving your body and coming to his collar, tie loosened, and buttons now slowly being undone, showing more and more of his skin. As the upper half was opened you brought your hands upon Diavolo’s chest, tracing your fingertips along the markings on his chest, a faithful reminder of just who you were dealing with. Diavolo bit his lip, just a little, as he felt your hands, gracefully, along his skin, tracing over his nipples in small circles, feeling the tiny metal balls of his piercings with your fingertips.

As you had been doing this, Lucifer had removed his hands from you and began unbuttoning his waistcoat with shoes already kicked off to the side, all the while his lips hardly leaving your neck, only to place kisses. You took your hands off of Diavolo’s body and began to remove your own clothing, buttons and collars ripped off as fast as you could so no time was wasted getting back to ravishing these men and having them ravish you

All off you were now topless, admiring each other with eyes and hands, you had turned to face Lucifer, Diavolo’s huge chest now against your back as his hands roamed the skin of your hips, thumbs screwing little circles on the bone as his fingertips slipped into the waistband of your trousers, teasingly asking for more. Lucifer’s hands were scandalously un-gloved and massaging your chest, fingers twirling around your nipples, the buds reacting in sheer bliss as your breaths became hitched and moans crawled out from your lips. His lips were upon yours, tongues dancing along to your rhythms as moans and growls were sent up into the air.

Your hands had been on Lucifer’s back, nails dug deep into his shoulders as your hips bucked into his thigh, placed strategically between your own. Twirling became pinching as Lucifer’s fingertips closed around your hard nipples, you threw your head back moaning in sheer pleasure but Lucifer wasted no time, his lips, once more, upon your neck, biting down amongst the red marks before, already forming your own type of pact mark, an obvious statement that you belonged to someone once you left this room.

“Lucifer- aah“ Your nails dug even deeper, causing his back to tense just a little as your fingers dragged down his skin. There was no pain on Lucifer’s part, the friction of your nails upon his back was ecstasy, his hands moved swiftly from your chest straight down to your ass, hooking underneath and lifting you up with ease causing you to yelp in surprise. Diavolo caught on immediately and pressed against you, acting as a second support as your legs wrapped around Lucifer’s torso, the Prince’s hands coming to your chest, and lips kissing along your shoulders.

You had been so wrapped up in everything happening you hadn’t even noticed....they were both hard as hell, Diavolo’s cock pressing against your ass, and Lucifer’s on your own sex. The utter feeling of just knowing you were the cause for their erections was amazing, the way they ravished you made you go crazy, you were horny beyond belief between these two demons, and almost certain they could sense it.

“pl-please” you whimpered, alerting the men who responded with slightly startled hums, “let me down, I need one of you in my mouth, please” a low chuckle from Lucifer, and a whisper from Diavolo.

“Of course” You unwrapped your legs from Lucifer, his hands letting you down slowly, Diavolo stepped away his hands leaving your chest and now upon the hem of his trousers, seamlessly working the buttons and zipper, the image of his boxer shorts coming into view. You knelt down between them, knees hitting the cold tiles with a small ‘thunk’ facing towards Lucifer, who stood there expectantly, a smirk on his face. He wasn’t going to undo his trousers for you, he’s waiting for you to do it.

Your hands got to work, fingering the buttons and working around Lucifer’s erection, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, once again the sound of fabric hitting the floor from behind you. Fingertips deftly curled around the waistbands of Lucifer’s trousers and underwear, teasingly pulling them as slow as possible, your eyes meeting his, a hungry gaze staring into your own lust-filled eyes. Little by little you tugged his waist band down revealing more of Lucifer’s skin, neatly trimmed pubic hair, and then the base of his erection.

“If you don’t hurry up you’ll make both of us impatient, MC” you felt another hand on your shoulder, Diavolo patiently waiting for you to disrobe Lucifer’s trousers, you were brought out of your lusty haze and proceeded to continue, hands now tugging eagerly, restless to have him within your mouth.

Lucifer’s erection was magnificent, long and slender, veins almost complimenting it as they wound their way up the base of his dick. Your eyes almost popping out of your head, fingers trailing softly over the sides at the base of his penis. You heard steps and Diavolo came into view ‘oh shit’ his erection was even larger, and thicker, than Lucifer’s, veins throbbing, pubes long but neat, his head leaking thick drops of pre-cum.

Your right hand closed around the base of Diavolo’s cock, while your left was on the tip of Lucifer’s, thumb massaging gently at the underside of the tip, just over the vein. Accepting grunts and soft sighs came from the men as they relaxed under your touch, the grip on your shoulder loosening ever so slightly as your hands worked their magic.

As your fingers massaged their dicks you brought your lips to the tip of Lucifer’s head and kissing the tip where the pre-cum had seeped out, your lips now dotted with a little of his white, a new marker of your relationship. Your right hand started pumping Diavolo, slowly, moving just a little further up the shaft with every rise and fall. you lips, on the other hand, were now wrapped around the tip of Lucifer’s cock, tongue licking over the slit and sliding underneath, over the vein in a desperate attempt to break his outer shell a little.

You bobbed your head down a little, taking more of Lucifer within your mouth just another inch, your tongue flat on the underside veins enveloped by your muscle. Diavolo became impatient, your hands not working fast enough as he bucked into you, the girth of his penis being fully realised as your fingers had no hope in touching.

“So beautiful,” Diavolo whispered in that low tone that drove your insides crazy as your eyes met his, mouth still wrapped around Lucifer, who nodded in agreement, “but we aren’t going to keep being patient, MC” Lucifer’s hand moved from your shoulder and came up into your hair on the back of your head, “we’ve waited too long to savour it for hours, I hope you don’t mind” as Diavolo finished his sentence Lucifer’s hand thrust your head further down his dick, making it hit the back of your throat and causing you to gag loudly, wide smirks upon the demons’ faces.

You got the message. The spit from your previous gagging was now your lube your head moving at an increased speed, with one last deep throat you pulled your lips from Lucifer and faced Diavolo, as you stuck your tongue flat out ready for him a drop of saliva lingered at the tip of your tongue. You raised his dick high and placed your tongue on his balls, licking all the way up to the tip causing Diavolo to growl in pleasure as he lost himself in you. Your mouth wrapped around his cock and got to work, he was big, so much bigger than you had been used to but fuck if you weren't going to try your best to fit him in you.

Diavolo moved his hand to your cheek his fingers entwining in your hair as his hips bucked and moved in rhythm to your head, moans and growls from both of the men as they revelled in your pleasures. A warmth in your stomach began to roar at you, thighs clamping together in order to control your own desires, your sex becoming more and more desperate to be pleased. Your head bobbed up and down, mouth full of Diavolo’s dick, your hands moving and massaging both of the demons’ cocks, spit dripping down your chin as Diavolo hit the back of your throat. With each gag you kept going, the moans and groans of Diavolo spurring you on to keep going deeper and deeper, so much so you could almost feel his dick in your stomach.

You looked up, eyes meeting Diavolo’s and removed your mouth from his with a loud sigh, saliva beading from your mouth to his dick. Your lungs burned as you panted, eyebrows furrowing as your eyes looked between the two men, pleading for them to give you some attention. Lucifer smirked and held out his hand, you took it, graciously, and rose to your feet. 

“Come” he instructed, as you and Diavolo followed, being led to the chair you had vacated earlier. “Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked, Diavolo responding with a sultry, low, hum. “Care to remove MC’s remaining clothes?” Your eyebrows raised as Diavolo’s hands instantly came to your waistband, fingers unbuttoning and ravaging your clothes, almost ripping them off of you, your body naked in the blink of an eye as you stepped away from the garments clumped on the floor. You had no time to feel self conscious or to blush because

Lucifer sat in the seat, his legs spread slightly and hand, once more, out and waiting for you to take it, which you did. He led you towards him and you stood there, in all your glory. Lucifer eyed your body, the longer he took the more ground Diavolo gained on your hips, his hands edging closer and closer to the base of your stomach.

“Sit.” Another order form Lucifer.

“Wh- where?” You stuttered, blinking confused.

“You know where. Now sit.” Lucifer roughly yanked your hand and you turned, bending down and sitting on his stomach, his dick between your legs and his hands supporting you. Diavolo knelt down in front of you and brought his mouth down to your ass, his hot breath making your nerves tingle with excitement. His hands came under your thighs and lifted them over his shoulders before moving his hands, one placed on your lower stomach, and the other softly massaging the base of Lucifer’s dick, keeping you both on a high.

As Diavolo touched upon your most sensitive areas with his lips you gasped and moaned, your hips bucking forward into him and grinding against Lucifer’s cock ever so slightly. A hearty sigh was felt on the back of your neck as Lucifer groaned, the feeling of your sex against him made him lose himself just a little, a hand moved from supporting your ass to your neck, lightly choking you. His fingers dug into your skin, nails providing additional marks to the love-bites, there was no way you were leaving this room with even a semblance of question-ability of whom you belonged to.

You gasped at the feeling of Lucifer’s hand on your neck, a startled yelp as your legs twitched and convulsed at the sensation of Diavolo granting you pleasure, making sure you were sufficiently lubed up for them. The Prince removed his mouth from you, your thighs twitching for him to return, your whole body whining at the loss of contact.

“MC?” he whispered as his lips kissed just above your genitals.

You looked down, with only your eyes as Lucifer’s hand restricted your head’s movement. “Y-yes?”

Diavolo still talked in a hushed whisper. his lips kissing up more and more of your stomach, “Yes what?” Lucifer briefly closed the grip on his hand, choking you out of your breath for just a second, showing you your punishment.

“Yes, Lord Diavolo?” You whimpered, body screaming to be used by them, your guard completely gone, in this moment you trusted them with whatever they wanted to do.

He smirked at your meagre response after submitting to them both so easily, “that’s better” Diavolo’s hands rested on the underside of your thighs, “are you ready?” his question was soft but his eyes were harsh, taken over by lust. Asmodeus would be having a field day.

You nodded, a little hesitantly, not to the sex but just to the question as to how Lucifer, or Diavolo, was going to fit inside of you. “I don’t know if you’ll even fit” you whispered, voice betraying you as it cracked under the pressure.

“We’ll start off with Lucifer, ease you into it. Next time though, it’ll be me” Diavolo shrugged your legs from his shoulders and stood, holding out his hands for you to take. As you did, Lucifer eased his grip on your neck and let you go, your legs a little shaky, and his dick twitching in anticipation.

“You’ll be okay MC, we won’t hurt you” Lucifer paused as he placed his hands on your ass cheeks, “too much” you could practically feel his smirk in the tone of his voice. Diavolo brought your hands to his chest, one wrapping around his neck to moral support, and as a stable foundation. You could feel Lucifer parting your ass cheeks and fingering your ass, the tip circling around the entrance. You moved your hips in response, edging them down and pressing your opening against his finger. “You’re very impatient MC. Fine, if that is what you wish”

You whimpered as Lucifer entered a finger into you, slowly, letting you adjust as your moans echoed off of the walls. Diavolo bit his lips as he watched the contortions your face made, eyebrows raised and then furrowed, your mouth parting as you sucked in sharp breaths. He couldn’t help himself, you looked so fucking cute he just had to kiss you. His lips darted to your neck once more kissing all over and taking you by surprise. Lucifer started moving his finger within you, the feeling driving your hips wild as you began riding him, your moans falling on deaf ears as your nails dug into Diavolo’s skin, leaving tiny red marks in their wake.

“Ah-ha fuck” a whimper was all that could come out, the thought of making words exist as you felt this pleasure was impossible. All you wanted to do was make these gruff noises to show them how good they made you feel, electric shocks riding your spine like a roller coaster as each bend of his finger shocked you.

Another finger entered, widening the opening for Lucifer, his fingers working double time as you panted and heaved. You grabbed a fistful of Diavolo’s hair and yanked his head off of your neck, startling him, before pulling him in for a kiss. The heavy breaths leaving your nose as you parted between sloppy kisses to sigh and pant, teeth biting at each others lips in a desperate act of domination, you had no chance of winning but damn if you weren’t going to try. Your hips clashed into Lucifer’s erection, the head hitting against your sex.

“Lucifer” your words were breathless, barely any volume compared to the heaving sighs that separated them, “please- hah- I need you in me please”  You continued your attack on Diavolo’s lips, his hands clawing at your back, the painful sensation sending you into a prideful rage as your own hands clawed and scratched their way over his chest and upper shoulder. A chuckle came from the eldest brother, you knew he would oblige as soon as you felt his finger’s leave you, he wanted to make you scream their names by the end of the night and you knew he was going to make it happen.

Diavolo parted from you, just for a moment, as Lucifer manoeuvred your hips, placing your ass just over his dick. You could feel the head teasing at you, and you teased back, rolling your hips around with a smirk on your face as Lucifer’s erection ached against you. Diavolo pressed his cheek against yours and whispered in your ear.

“Bite me when it hurts” you nodded in agreement and moved your lips to his collarbone. With one last tease Lucifer pulled your hips down and began entering you, the sheer feeling of his dick invading your ass was agony. You weren’t used to this and they could tell as you let out a painful yelp, Diavolo’s hand coming up to the back of your head, a light shush as he consoled you.

“Bite and adjust, we’re only just getting started” You could feel Lucifer’s hands move from your hips and come across your back, adding secondary consolation. Sharp breaths were hot against Diavolo’s neck as you lowered your hips to fit more of Lucifer within you, his hips involuntary twitching sending a painful reception to your brain, teeth biting down into Diavolo’s skin, bringing the chain reaction to an end as he abruptly exhaled in pleasure.

Half of Lucifer was within you and all your body could do was melt, the feeling of your ass widening just that little bit more, the moans and growls of the men around you spurring your adrenaline into a frenzy. Teeth digging into Diavolo’s flesh, not because of pain, but because of that moan he makes, the way his fingers curl into the skin on your back, the sight of his dick twitching each time you bite down on his collarbone, that’s why you keep doing it. Sheer pleasure.

Once you had fully taken Lucifer, the sharp pain gone and replaced with pleasure, you nodded. Lucifer’s hands moved from your back, no longer consoling you, and were placed on your hips, gripping with intent to fuck. He lifted you, your knees already feeling weak as your stomach heated up, the spur of your own orgasm growling in the depths. Lucifer was almost fully out, the tip remaining within you, and with a slight pause he pulled you down, the first of many thrusts. You yelped out in pleasure, throwing your head back as you sighed and panted, his name teetering on your lips as the thrusts within you drove your mind crazy.

“Lu- hahh- Luciff- ha” Diavolo relished in the way you looked as you bobbed up and down on Lucifer’s dick, tongue lingering on your lips as saliva drooled down your chin. You didn’t care how you looked right now cause you were truly in heaven, or as close as you could get while in The Devildom.

As Lucifer thrust within you Diavolo stood up as gave a smirk, his hand now cupping your cheek in an effort to make you look at him and only him for a short while. “MC? I’d like you to keep me happy, too” You nodded in agreement and leaned down, still having Lucifer within you. The Prince’s cock was still hard, and you took it in your hand once again, one cupping and massaging his balls, the other pumping around his base, your tongue licked along his slit and, once more, you took it within your mouth. 

The blowjob was sloppy, the pleasure made your head spin the hands caressing you sending you into a frenzy, eyes rolling around your head as you tried your best to focus on bringing Diavolo pleasure. From the look on his face, you were succeeding, his hand balled up in your hair, pulling you up and down his dick, the tip hitting the back of your throat, every gag making him push you down further. You could hardly breathe, all that was coming out of you was moaning as you serviced the men. Lucifer panting behind you, his composure deteriorating as his thrusts became slightly out of rhythm, your own attempts at moving your hips interrupted as Diavolo pushed your head down.

You could feel it, all of you were climbing that mountain, the steps getting closer and closer to all of your orgasms. Your stomach had a pi  as your sex twitched and pulsated the electric shocks around your body. Chests heaving an out of sync song as the moans created the tunes. All of you were getting there, but one of you needed some more. Diavolo looked at Lucifer, as best as he could, and nodded, He pulled your head from his dick and raised you to face him, a low drawl of a chuckle before stating “my turn”

You obliged and Lucifer let you off, you stood up and bent over, mouth now over Lucifer’s cock and Diavolo’s dick teasing at your entrance. You hated the feeling of them leaving you, your whole body screaming for you to get back into that addictive rhythm, and they obliged wholeheartedly. Diavolo pushed within you, his dick stretching you even more than Lucifer’s did, another shot of pain before quickly adjusting. You mewled a sound, something that resembled positivity, telling him to go all the way, and he did, Diavolo hit something within you, something you weren’t aware of, your knees going weak and making you lose balance as you screamed out a moan, but you couldn’t keep Lucifer waiting any longer and licked up his dick. You could taste yourself on him, his moans spurring you forth to keep going, deeper and deeper, the same as Diavolo was doing to you. 

“Please, keep going” you heard him whisper, a before unseen plea that attested to his feelings. The most you could muster was wrapping your mouth around him and sucking, all words evaporating into pleasure as your hips rocked against Diavolo, the light slapping of flesh echoing within the room along with sighs and moans. How could you resist a plea like that? Seeing his vulnerability, him letting you see it, all you wanted to do was praise him, in this situation you did the best you could. With your mouth and your hands. You moved your hand and caressed up his stomach all the way up to his chest, where your fingers came to his nipple. You gave it a pinch, rolling your fingers around, causing Lucifer to lean his head back and arch himself into you, a small moan escaping his lips as he let himself go. His hand entwined in your hair, the other resting on your shoulder as you bobbed your head up and down on his dick, in time with Diavolo’s hard thrusts.

Your stomach turned around on itself, the feeling of Diavolo pounding against your g-spot, each time he hit it making your knees weaker and weaker. You tried your best to keep yourself steady for them, leaning as much of your weight as you could into Lucifer as you bobbed your head up and down his dick. Your spit pooling at the base and around your lips, your hand wet and slick as you massaged in time with your head raising and falling. The grunts and moans of your pleasures only enticing Lucifer’s orgasm more and more, his fingers twitching within your hair as he bit down on his lip.

Diavolo’s thrusting was becoming sporadic, out of time and heretical, his grunting and panting edging closer to your ear as his back arched further and further down. His hands gripping onto your hips for dear life, a vain attempt to ground himself in this ecstasy. You could feel Diavolo’s sweat, pooling from his brow, on your back as he leaned his head against you. You were close, too, your whole body getting weaker and weaker as it became harder to focus on anything other than your impending climax. 

“MC I’m going to cum inside of you, okay?” Diavolo panted, you nodded in response, keeping your lips wrapped around Lucifer’s dick.

“Me too” Lucifer piped up, his voice wavering as his hips jerked and thrust himself further into your mouth, your hand lingering as you moaned with pleasure, walls closing in around Diavolo are your body climbed to orgasm. You removed your lips from Lucifer’s dick, a loud gasp filling the room as you moaned out Diavolo and Lucifer’s names, basically screaming them out as Diavolo fucked you into oblivion.

“I’m gonna- hhah- I’m gonna cum, please please keep fucking me” you whined your case, hand continuing to massage Lucifer into his climax his hips jolting, and hand tugging at your hair as he breathed out his replies.

“MC hahh” Lucifer’s chest was heaving, his orgasm imminent. You stuck out your tongue, resting it on the base of his head, tip pointing into your mouth, you wanted to catch it all and leave nothing behind. His hips kept jolting and you tried your best to keep yourself steady as Diavolo thrust deep within you. With no warning Lucifer came, his cum shooting into your mouth, hitting the back, the sides, and pooling onto your tongue. He let out a loud moan as his head was thrown back in pleasure, hips bucking and thighs tensing as he moaned out your name. His seed was slightly sour, a salty taste to it, must have been all of the coffee ha drank, and you swallowed it all. Lucifer looked down at you, a prideful smirk on his face as he watched you lick the remains of his cum from your lips.

Diavolo wasted no time in pulling you up with him, standing and fucking you deeply, your own orgasm now at the forefront of your mind. You had become a babbling mess, Diavolo’s name echoing from your lips as he pinned you against him via your arms. “I’m close, MC” Diavolo muttered into your ear and you desperately nodded in agreement, your hair falling over your sweaty forehead, eyes looking into Lucifer as he sat there and watched you get fucked.

With one last thrust, deep into your g-spot, you and Diavolo came together. His seed filled you up as you screamed his name in please. The whole Devildom was sure to hear you tonight, your legs gave out but Diavolo was there to keep you up, his dick deep in you as he grunted and moaned your name into the halls.

You fell down onto your knees, a heaving panting mess on all fours. Diavolo sat down on one of the other seats a half-hearted chuckle coming from him as he finally relaxed. All of you were breathless and worn out, your body realising how much you’d just gone through, the adrenaline rush had gone and only a numb pain remained, sitting was going to be difficult tomorrow.

Diavolo broke the silence, “I have to admit, I didn’t expect that” he continued chuckling as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Me neither, you did well MC” Lucifer commended, his hand coming down to help you up, which you gladly accepted.

“Thank you but” you paused as your knees slightly gave way.

“But?”

“I may have to take some days off from RAD to recover” you tittered.

“I think we can arrange that, I can think of something else we can be doing instead” Diavolo winked at you, his voice playful and devilish. What on earth had you gotten yourself into?

[smallmediumproblems]

Summary: The Magnus Institute budget waits for no eldritch entity, and there are only two archival staff with enough patience left to answer Elias' questions.

Note: I missed the deadline to submit this to a contest ages ago, and kinda forgot about it...? but, it’s finished now, so, here y’go! Takes place sometime mid-season-3.

. . .

BASIRA: Do you think he's going to notice?

MARTIN (tense): I think there's not a whole lot we can do if he does. Not much he can do to us, either. I mean, who else is willing to put up with paperwork for him?

BASIRA: I'm a little surprised he still trusts you. With anything.

MARTIN (more tense, looking for an excuse to lash out): It's almost like I try to be helpful and cooperative all the time so people know they can rely on me.

BASIRA (not sure about the method, but approves of the results): Huh. Sneaky.

MARTIN (has snapped): Nothing about this is sneaky! We're literally asking him to finance his own-

MARTIN (CONT'D, lowers his voice, reminds himself that they’re not supposed to talk about Secret Plans): You know.

BASIRA: Fun, right?

MARTIN: You're totally sure we got everything on the list?

BASIRA: I checked with Daisy just this morning. She’s not happy about it, but she was very thorough. Melanie's, erm, needs , are pretty straightforward. Tim is being actively unhelpful.

MARTIN: He seemed pretty enthusiastic.

BASIRA: Doesn’t make him helpful. Anyway, you said it yourself. It’s too late to worry about it now. What’s the worst he’s gonna do to us for a little light subterfuge?

[Cut to several minutes later. BASIRA and MARTIN are sitting in ELIAS' office. BASIRA has her game face on, and her confidence is infectious. MARTIN has calmed down a bit. But only a bit.]

ELIAS: First and foremost, I’d like to thank you for meeting with me today. I know that our working relationship is a bit… strained, at the moment, and I appreciate the degree of professionalism this demonstrates in both of you.

MARTIN: That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

BASIRA: I just didn't want to leave him alone with you.

ELIAS: I believe you two were in charge of drafting the archive’s most recent budget request, is that correct?

BASIRA: That’s right.

ELIAS: I had some concerns to discuss with you before I filed everything.

BASIRA (somewhat defensive): This is the pared down version. We had to make some hard choices for what to cut.

ELIAS: I would be interested to hear what you decided to forego in favor of…

[Very brief beat as ELIAS flips through the budget, which he has printed out for the express purpose of quoting at them disapprovingly]

ELIAS (CONT’D): ...four dozen assorted hunting knives.

MARTIN: Mostly, it was just more knives.

BASIRA: Daisy goes through them pretty quickly these days. We figured it might be good to have a few stashed around the archive. For safety.

ELIAS: I hardly feel safe giving you easy access to weaponry, considering Melanie’s new hobby. Not to mention your collective history of emotional outbursts.

BASIRA (trying to pretend that she cares, not trying very hard): Oh, your safety. Yeah, that makes sense.

ELIAS: On the subject of safety, I see that you've opted to restock with what I can only call an excess of fire extinguishers. Hardly necessary now that Jane Prentiss is deceased, but I understand your concern.

MARTIN (eagerly): No, you’d think that, but they’re really good for a lot of things. I mean, we ARE dealing with a fire cult. The archive’s enough of a hazard already. Loose paper, old electrical sockets...

BASIRA (supportive): They’re great for self-defense.

ELIAS: I suppose it is a better alternative to knives.

ELIAS (CONT’D, continuing to flip through papers): Speaking of excess, you appear to have ordered twice as many supplies as you normally need for the breakroom. Would you care to explain why?

MARTIN: We’re not the ones who hired a bunch more people. We barely had enough for four of us, and now we've got five! Six if you count Daisy. She’s mostly in and out, but I’m not going to tell her she can’t have a cup of tea while she’s waiting for Basira.

ELIAS: You’re certain it has nothing to do with stocking a second meeting space that you’ve decided to assemble at without my knowledge?

MARTIN (carefully): ...no?

BASIRA (more casually; no plans here, Vader, just a diplomatic mission to Alderaan): Sounds kind of far-fetched.

MARTIN (deciding to roll with it): Should we do that? It could be a good team-builder.

ELIAS: My main concern is that you’ve listed a frozen margarita machine among the requested furnishings.

MARTIN (oh! that’s all it was): Oh-

BASIRA (to Martin, confused but not upset): I thought you took that out.

MARTIN (annoyed): Tim must have snuck it back in. That- that’s an honest mistake, we didn’t mean to submit that.

ELIAS: Then we’re in agreement that it doesn’t constitute a reasonable business expense?

[MARTIN makes a doubtful noise.]

BASIRA (also doubtful): I mean...

MARTIN: I wouldn't say that.

BASIRA: Have you talked to Tim lately?

ELIAS: Hmm. Point taken. Still, I can't spend Institute funds on it in good conscience.

[ELIAS scratches out the line item and continues to page through the budget intermittently as he talks.]

ELIAS (CONT'D): Let's move on to some of the miscellanea. Cassette tapes are entirely understandable, but are you certain you need this many?

BASIRA: The tape recorders follow Jon around, yeah? I figure, if he doesn’t come back, they’re going to stop showing up on their own. We need to plan ahead.

MARTIN (angrily; clearly they have argued about this before.): That is not why.

BASIRA (conceding, more amused than apologetic): And it makes more sense for each of us to have our own supply instead of ransacking Jon's office whenever we run out. That’s what Martin keeps telling me.

MARTIN: She won't stop stealing his pens!

BASIRA (frustrated. This is also something they've argued about before.): I need them. You never gave me any office supplies.

MARTIN: You were supposed to put that in with the budget.

BASIRA: Hard choices, Martin. This was one of them.

ELIAS: Is that why you’ve ordered nearly a gross of glow sticks?

BASIRA: Oh, no. That’s for research.

[Beat as ELIAS waits for BASIRA to elaborate. She does not.]

ELIAS (forcing a patient tone): What kind of research?

BASIRA (condescending, as if this should be obvious): Spooky research.

BASIRA (CONT’D): I’m not convinced the People’s Church is as dormant as we thought. I’m toying around with defensive strategies- redundant light sources, stuff like that.

MARTIN: It’s been very festive!

ELIAS: Would that also explain the assorted sports equipment?

BASIRA (it would not): Research.

ELIAS: The smart-home device and speaker system.

BASIRA (definitely not research): Research.

ELIAS: And is this a miniature zeppelin?

MARTIN (pleased with himself for contributing): Ooh, that one's me. Er, yeah. Research.

ELIAS: Is it meant to resemble a shark?

MARTIN (yes, it is): I… hadn't noticed.

ELIAS: What about the petrol?

BASIRA (Smugly. She knows that ELIAS knows exactly what she wants to use petrol for.): Definitely research.

ELIAS: I think not. I already cannot trust you with sharp objects. I don’t see how accelerants are a possibility.

MARTIN: We did also ask for a lot of fire extinguishers. You've got to look at the whole thing in context. There's a system here.

ELIAS (crossing out several lines): Regardless. That will also not be making the final list. One other item in particular drew my attention simply because of the price. What do you need a GPS tracker for?

BASIRA (immediately): Jon.

MARTIN (disappointed): Yeah.

ELIAS: Out of the question.

MARTIN: What if he goes missing again?

ELIAS: A tracker is an optimistic but unfeasible solution. The things that have an interest in Jon are likely to take him somewhere he cannot be tracked.

BASIRA: Plan A was to give him a bunch of knives, but you shot that one down.

ELIAS: In any case, the only way this would work is if he wore it every minute he was outside the Institute. Don’t you think that’s a bit invasive of his privacy?

[MARTIN begins trying not to laugh, and is quite unable to do anything else for a few seconds as the conversation continues.]

ELIAS (icy): Something you'd like to share with us?

MARTIN: I’m sorry, I- I can’t tell if you’re being serious.

BASIRA (trying to ignore him): We did talk to Jon about it. It’s not like we were going to stalk him.

MARTIN (would be sarcastic if he wasn’t still laughing): Who would do such a thing?

ELIAS: Do we need to postpone this?

MARTIN (managing to calm down): Nope, yep. I’m good. Hmmmmmkay. Where- where were we?

ELIAS: I believe we were at the start of a very serious human resources inquiry.

MARTIN (feigning interest): Ohh! Whose is that?

BASIRA (tired): GPS unit is a no, that’s fine. I’ll get him one of those kid-leashes out of pocket. Elias, was there anything else?

ELIAS: The rest of the budget looks to be in order. If I could discuss one other issue with you, I have some similar concerns with your reimbursement requests. I take it this list is similarly ‘pared down’?

BASIRA: Yeah, I didn’t do that.

MARTIN (alarmed): What?!

BASIRA (unmoved): Yep. Just put everything in a list and printed it out.

MARTIN (rapidly cycling through the five stages of grief): Why??

BASIRA: Because we all have massively more important things to do.

ELIAS: Perhaps if you had taken the time to edit the list, this meeting would have been much shorter.

BASIRA (smug that she’s managed to make this ELIAS’ problem, not hers): Misery loves company.

ELIAS: Indeed. You mentioned Tim’s instability earlier. He’s put down several months of a gym membership and listed the explanation as ‘vengeance’.

MARTIN (uncomfortable, unhappy about TIM’s state in general but unwilling to show it here, of all places): Yeah, that’s… been a thing.

ELIAS (dismissive): I don’t suppose he’s intending to punch the Unknowing out of existence?

BASIRA: We haven’t actually sorted out who he’s planning vengeance against. Could be Jon. I don’t think he’d punch you, but I don’t know him too well.

MARTIN: Honestly, it’s been a good way to keep him busy. I won’t say it puts him in a better mood, exactly? He’s not less angry, just, erm, distracted. I think it helps. He thinks it helps, that’s what matters.

ELIAS: It is at least easier to rationalize than the margarita machine.

ELIAS (CONT'D, flips a couple more pages): One last thing… Ah. I also wanted to discuss some of Jon's travel expenses.

BASIRA: Is this from when you framed him for murder?

ELIAS: I think you’ll find that my involvement led to him being found innocent, but yes. This would be his absence during your investigation with Officer Tonner.

BASIRA (resigned): Alright. What’d he do, now?

[ELIAS slides a piece of paper across the table.]

ELIAS: Is this a typographical error, or did he really try to request this much compensation for ‘emotional damages’?

[BASIRA makes an interested noise as she reads the figure.]

BASIRA: Sounds about right.

ELIAS (stern, disapproving): We have an entirely separate form for that. It hardly counts as a travel expense.

MARTIN (did not know this. stunned, distant, half to himself): We have a whole form for emotional damages…

BASIRA: I think he just wanted to pay back his friend. Rent, groceries- I think Orsinov did some property damage, even?

ELIAS: Ahh. I see. We should be able to provide for that, if he can acquire some itemized receipts.

MARTIN (muttering to himself): What else do we have forms for?

ELIAS (darkly): A great many things, Mr Blackwood. Let us hope that you never find yourself in a position to discover them.

MARTIN (refuses to be disturbed by whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean): So, like, a sabbatical program? Have we got educational incentives?

ELIAS (perhaps a bit annoyed that Martin isn’t playing along): Don’t you already have a degree?

MARTIN (defensively): Maybe I want another one.

ELIAS: Then I suggest we have that discussion in a separate meeting. I doubt that Basira needs to know the details of your plans for personal growth.

BASIRA: Depends on the kind. Daisy might be in the market for a new gym partner.

MARTIN (terrified, dead sure that’s a euphemism for something violent): Oh wow! That’s. Great, Basira!

ELIAS: If you two are quite finished, I have other things I need to accomplish today.

BASIRA (sarcastically): Good luck with that!

BASIRA (CONT'D): I’m heading out, see you two on Monday.

MARTIN: Basira, it’s not even lunchtime. On Wednesday.

BASIRA (referring to Elias): What, is he gonna fire me?

[beat]

ELIAS (disgruntled): Enjoy your weekend, detective.

[Door opens and closes as BASIRA leaves.]

ELIAS (ominous): ...while you still can.

MARTIN: Do you do that every time someone leaves the room?

ELIAS (oh for- what now , MARTIN): Do what?

MARTIN: Say ominous stuff while no one's listening.

ELIAS (chuckles. If there was a camera, he'd be grinning directly at it): I can assure you, Martin, someone is always listening.

[devnny]

CHAPTER TWELVE.

JTRM — THE “R” STANDS FOR RECOVERING!

PREVIOUSLY.

GOD THIS TOOK FOREVER!!!!! it’s 6k fucking words too, jeezus lord. at least its cute, and sad, and cute.

the events of my old ass drabble TOUCH. is mentioned briefly in this chapter too, should you have not read that and would care to :]c ANYWAY, ENJOY

[Dear Diary,

I had another dream about killing Devi.

They’ve become too vivid… I’m growing more and more worried that my mind will blur fantasy with reality, and I’ll attack her thinking it’s a dream. I don’t know why I would do that… I don’t want to attack her. I don’t want to hurt her, ever.

So, as a precaution, I’ve decided that I won’t be sleeping anymore. Staying awake is all that I can do combat these shitty nightmares.]

--

Johnny scratched the final letter of his latest diary entry firmly into the paper’s face, then closed the cover quietly. He tucked the book under his chair, careful to not alert Devi, who was painting a few feet away, that he was making any unusual movements.

He felt badly to keep these dreams a secret from her, since he was confident that Meat was interfering with his sleep somehow, but he buried those prickly feelings of guilt to the best of his ability. The only other reason for these reoccurring nightmares would be that he, in fact, was thinking them up all on his own, which was even worse as far as Johnny was concerned. Either way, he was terrified that if he mentioned it to Devi that she would again grow suspicious of him.

After regaining so much of her trust, it would kill him inside to see her hesitate to accept his company, or linger on her words or her decisions in what she allowed him to do with her, all because he wasn’t in control of his subconscience. Very few people were able to control their unconscious mind, but Johnny still felt immensely paranoid that Devi wouldn’t be understanding, regardless of if it would be because of actual resentment, or simply out of fear, even though she would still want to trust him. That might sting even worse, actually.

They had built such a comforting routine in her home; working away on creative endeavors together at all hours, and enjoying each other’s company over shared meals and television in their downtime. It was so soothing, bidding her ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’ each day. Devi’s sleep schedule had returned to its atrociously inconsistent cycle since he moved in with her, so sometimes he would be saying ‘goodnight’ at 5PM, and other times saying ‘good morning’ at 5PM, but it was gratifying all the same. He didn’t know, after he was ‘better’ and was supposed to return to his own house, how he would go through each day without being able to offer her such daily pleasantries. Maybe he would be able to do so over the phone, he thought, but it wouldn’t be the same.

His eyes lifted from the scantily-worked-on page that was fastened to his drafting table and settled on Devi’s kneeling figure a short distance away. Johnny smiled to see the small smirk on her face while she blotted color across her canvas. She had been toiling away on this commissioned work for almost a week now, and she always seemed to enter some kind of frenzied state whenever she was nearing a piece’s completion. It was a large project, she had told him, and would offer her a very hefty paycheck once it was finished. Maybe it was the thought of money that pushed her into such an energetic fit of creation – Johnny could only speculate. She grinned and rubbed a bit of paint from her cheek as she stepped back to review her efforts.

His lips pursed into a longer smile; how could he even consider sullying her mood by bringing up useless things like night terrors? He couldn’t. He would handle this himself, and leave Devi to her work.

--

DAYS LATER:

Devi beamed, squiggling her brush down her canvas to the rhythm of the song she currently had blasting from the speakers of her art room. Nothing was more satisfying than going to the bank and depositing a nice, big, fucking check, and she could only express her delight by jumping right into a personal project as soon as she and Johnny had returned home. It felt so good to have enough money, for the time being, to indulge in painting what she wanted to for more than an hour.

“Hey!” Johnny’s voice piped up over the music, and Devi turned to see him pull his headphones off of one of his ears. His headphones were his only defense against her deafening taste in music, so it must be important. Devi searched the floor for the dinky little remote that controlled the speakers, and lowered the volume to a reasonable level.

“Yeah?” She grinned at him, and he met her smile with one of his own.

“Can you hold your arm out like ‘this’ for me?” Johnny stuck his arm out and twisted it downwards in a fist to give her an example. Devi scoffed, used to him asking her to pose for reference by now, and tried to mimic what he had requested.

“Like that?”

“Ummm, no, down a little more. Ehhh—” He wiggled his fist in her direction. “—put your shoulder up more, maybe? Give me… ‘intimidating’.”

Devi laughed.

“Shut the Hell up.” She huffed a few chuckles and brought her shoulder up as instructed.

“YES. HOLD THAT.” Johnny exclaimed and hurriedly resumed his sketching. Devi’s smile remained while she watched him work.

She had to admit she was proud of how far he had come since this whole thing started – he hardly ever devolved into a crying mess when his drawings weren’t progressing to his liking anymore. The last time Devi remembered him throwing a fit was shortly after the ‘leash and collar’ situation began, and she figured that that was more out of pent up frustration for that small bit of humiliation, and not so much because he was a creative loose-cannon.

The way his tongue poked out while he drew was a little more endearing suddenly, but Devi dismissed the thought, chalking it up to the current carefree feeling in the air. The evening was set to be lighthearted the moment she had gotten paid; the plan was to have whatever the fuck she wanted for dinner, and then binge-watch the entire movie series of The Beast What Licked Me, which was the main trilogy and all of its subsequent, horrible spinoff movies by less-than-admirable production studios. Devi smiled at the idea of having fun for once.

“You know, the lofty smile doesn’t really give me that ‘intimidating’ vibe.” Johnny spoke with a teasing laugh, earning a dismissive, blithe scoff from his model.

“Shut your mouth—aren’t you hungry yet?” Devi snorted, wriggling her shoulder to rib at him further. He stuck the end of his pencil into his lip curiously.

“Are you?”

“Sure, and I think my hand’s had enough painting for one day.” She straightened her posture with a widening grin. “You done?”

“Well, I am for now, if that’s alright with my, er, mentor…” Johnny replied with the question in his stare, and Devi snickered again.

“You are excused for the evening. Now, let’s order Chinese, for delivery. I don’t feel like leaving the house again today.” Devi mused while she walked out of the room. Johnny smiled giddily at the comment – one trip outside was enough for one day, he’d agree wholeheartedly!

--

FIFTEEN-MINUTES-OR-LESS LATER:

Johnny threw the wad of cash that Devi had so-entrusted him with directly into the delivery boy’s face, knocking him over with the force of the impact as he snatched the take-out bag from him. He slammed the door shut callously, and hummed in approval at the now familiar smell of Devi’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

He strode to the kitchen with it, and began laying out the bag’s drippy contents onto the counter. He jumped when he felt something jab into his side, but hardly had to turn his head before he recognized Devi’s head peeking into his peripheral. She gave him a cheeky grin, and he smiled back shyly.

“You’re already finished showering?”

“Yeah, heh, just needed to rinse off that outside-world smell.” She crossed her arms over one of his shoulders as she leaned to see what he was doing. “…Why’d you bother bringing the food in here?”

Johnny gesticulated his hands loosely around the counterspace as he attempted to explain, but it was difficult with Devi touching him.

“WELL, it’s—” Another swat of his hands. “…greasy!”

Devi snortled and slid off of his shoulder, giving his back an additional plap with her palm before moving to inspect tonight’s dinner. She popped open one of the containers and couldn’t help but jam a pair of chopsticks into it right away, scooping a pile of noodles into her mouth happily.

She exhaled contently through her nose while she chewed, then turned a curious eye to Johnny, who was picking at the fabric of his shirt where she had just been pressed against him. It was only for a second, but it was enough to take notice of before he tilted to look through the boxes and find which one was his entrée. Devi swallowed, and watched his thin fingers play with the lids while she thought.

When had she gotten so comfortable with touching him? It had been a long time since physical contact with anyone had been so nonchalant for her. If she could guess, it was probably due to the whole ‘close proximity of the leash’ thing, or maybe the whole ‘living together’ thing, but either way it was bizarre that she hadn’t realized how casual things had become until she noticed Johnny’s slight change in demeanor in response to it.

One wouldn’t have to ask Johnny ‘when’ the touching started; he could tell you with one-hundred percent certainty that it was the night that they went to pick up a few groceries from a nearby 24/7. Devi had approached him, and set a hand on his arm for an undiscernible amount of seconds while she spoke to him – undiscernible because his brain had just about exploded from the direct contact. He had returned the casual touching with a modest hand on her shoulder, and she hadn’t killed him for it. Johnny would probably remember that night for the rest of his existence.

But Devi was left to ponder at what point she had regrown enough trust for him to poke and prod at him without wanting to carve her own skin off afterward. He was a lot less horrible now, and she enjoyed his company again, so she supposed that said something, at least. She shrugged it off and stuffed a piece of chicken in her mouth.

“You ready to get this hideous marathon underway?” Devi asked while she chewed. Johnny carefully lifted the top off of the horrendously spicy dish he’d ordered.

“Yes!” He beamed at her eagerly, brandishing a spork as though it was a beacon for his well-equipped-ness for the evening.

--

FIVE MOVIES IN:

“Oouughh…” Devi vocalized her agony with her fingers pressed to her sore eyes.

“Yeah, that FX make-up is garbage. Worse than the one in Spawn of The Beast What Licked Me.” Johnny replied lazily from his side of the couch, half-melted into the cushion. Though his corneas burned just as badly, the pain didn’t register with him the same way.

“No,” Devi griped. “my eyes are killing me…”

A yawn punctuated her complaint, and Johnny lifted his head attentively. She was tired. He’d come to learn the signs of her exhaustion quite well, and despite his current feelings about sleep, rest appeared to do Devi some good.

“Are you going to go to bed?” He asked and reset his head onto the back cushion of the couch comfortably. Devi peeked at him from the armrest on the opposite side, where she had devolved into a lumpy ball as the night wore on. Her ear pressed into the cushy fabric, and she slanted her mouth in discontent.

She didn’t particularly want to go to sleep. There was only one more movie to go, and it felt weak as Hell to give up now when she was so close to the end of a movie binge. Devi lulled her head in the direction of the TV, and winced away in regret when the flashing light burned her eyes.

“Ugh.” She grunted in defeat. “Yeah, I guess.”

“We can finish these last two tomorrow.” Johnny offered to ease her frustration, and Devi smirked through her exhaustion.

“Yeah, okay.” She agreed and rolled into a seated position. She struggled to stand with her tired legs, but managed to force herself up.

One of her hands came down to point at Johnny as she passed him, her finger hovering just out of reach of his nose.

“—And don’t you dare watch ahead.” Devi smiled despite her threatening tone. “You turn that shit off, you don’t get to watch without me.”

Johnny grinned uneasily, half of him delighted at how she joked with him.

“Yes, of course.” He assured her, and Devi nodded appreciatively before hobbling off to bed. Johnny watched her door click shut, then searched for the remote and turned the TV off.

His body slumped against the couch, the satisfied feeling in his torso weighing him down into its pillows. He debated what he could do for the rest of the night with his lazy, fried brain. The dull feeling in his arms made drawing seem impossible, and he didn’t want to turn on the TV again until he was sure Devi was soundly asleep. So he laid on the couch and thought to pass the time.

It didn’t take long for his thoughts to turn to Devi, and he smiled comfortably as he reviewed the day’s events. Johnny laced his fingers over his chest and contemplated if their relationship would progress further than this, or if it had reached it’s peak at her not hating him and offering him passing physical contact. He was perfectly happy with how things were now, but he would have said the same thing about her begrudgingly tolerating his company two months ago. Now he couldn’t imagine going back to that time and being satisfied without her smile, or laughter, or rib jabbing.

A sigh slipped past his lips as he smooshed further into the couch at the memory of her forearms crossed over his shoulders early this evening. It was so nice. Everything was so nice now; he felt like he could exist like this forever. The impermanence of his situation was lost from his mind for the time being, and he nestled his brow into the cushion while he let his tender thoughts carry his brain away.

Without realizing, his eyes slowly began to settle closed, and he drifted into an impromptu nap.

--

Johnny reaffixed his grip on the handle of his knife, the tendons there further visible under the gaunt skin of his hand. He would usually wear gloves for something like this – it was so messy – but a kill such as this one, that was so personal and passionate in nature, had no room for measures of tidiness.

She deserved this so much; she was so mean. Cruel. She never treated him like this before, when they had their nice, engaging conversations at the bookstore. Everything was so pleasant then. He could still imagine her, with her short black hair and uniform apron, and her dark, painted lips that made his heart go berserk when they tilted up into a smile for him. Him, bringing a smile to someone else’s face. How abnormal.

His own mouth twitched upwards more, making his grin look more unhinged than it already did. The little spatters of blood on his cheeks and nose smeared under the creases it brought.

Devi lay below him – on the floor, if he wasn’t mistaken – looking up at him in fear. He’d only stabbed her a few times so far, but Johnny could tell by the terror in her eyes that she knew those wouldn’t be the only ones. He crouched over her form, as he had over so many others, and held her shoulder with his left hand while the right started its habitual swinging.

The blade plunged into her chest again, marring her shirt with another bloody hole. Then another, and another. He could feel the flexible bones of her ribcage bend under the base of his palm, compressed by the weight of his blows.

It felt so GOOD. She earned all of these! All of her stabbing, painful comments – she should have expected this outcome. This new, purple-haired, pigtailed Devi was not the one he cared so much for; she was a demon! A bastardized version of his Devi; one that smirked coolly at him as though she owned him; one that barraged him with pointless tests and berated him with cutting words when he failed.

“You deserve this!” Johnny breathed, digging the knife into her torso again. Devi did little to stop him, as she had so far, and only looked at him painfully. YES! She deserved this pain!

“You deserve this – you deserve this—!” He ranted, continuing to repeat the phrase over and over as he stabbed her. He watched her eyes – those pretty, green eyes – filled with hurt.

But it wasn’t the hurt that he had originally thought.

It wasn’t like the looks his other victims gave him, eyes filled with tears from the physical agony they were in. It wasn’t even the same as the horror he’d seen on her face before, when he had lunged at her in his home. Johnny’s smile slowly began to drop, seeing the unusual emotion in Devi’s eyes. She looked at him with so much betrayal – almost longingly, as if to ask “Why?”, or to say, “How could you?”.

Why wasn’t she fighting him? She should be able to get away. She’s always gotten away from him – always refused to be a victim to him. Why was she just LAYING there, letting him kill her?

That’s what he was doing. He was KILLING HER.

Devi seemed to acknowledge her impending death at the same time he had, and her expression grew wearier. Johnny felt anxiety rapidly mounting inside him, and only removed his fixation away from her face when he felt her hand gingerly grip at his fist. He looked down and watched her fingers, matted with blood, trying as best as they could to grasp onto him. He also realized that he was still holding the knife firmly in her sternum.

With a jolt of fear, he yanked the knife away, and Devi cried out for the first time that he could remember. It made him drop his weapon, and settle both hands onto her shoulders.

He yelped her name, as if that would do any good. What had he done? He had killed her – she was dying. He didn’t want to believe it, and the sound of her labored breathing brought him to tears. This shouldn’t be happening – Devi had helped him. She offered him so much of her; her time, her support, her home – and he had reduced her into a gored mass on her bedroom floor.

No, no, no. This wasn’t right. He wanted to scream and sob, but that would do nothing to fix this.

A sticky sensation on his cheek brought him out of his panic, and he realized after a moment that it was Devi’s hand, wet from her own blood. Despite the slippery, unpleasant feeling of the blood, Johnny was drawn to the delicate touch of her fingers, and tried to lean into them despite the weakness in her digits. He wanted her palm – he wanted it to cradle his cheek, and indulge in the forbade softness from her that he himself had ruined his chances of.

Johnny didn’t get what he wanted, of course. Devi’s hand slowly dropped away from his face, lingering until all the strength left her limbs, and her arm fell to her bloodied stomach. Johnny refused to take his eyes off of hers, and the anxiety he felt previously worked into a massive ball of dread as he saw the glint in Devi’s eyes begin to dull.

No, no, no, no—

--

Johnny almost gagged from the abrupt force of the gasp that brought him back to consciousness. His leg kicked out, knocking over some empty containers and cans that had been left on the coffee table, and he scampered away from the sound with startled fear. A hand came up to palm away the wet lines that streaked down his cheekbones, but cold tears were the least of his concerns with his lungs beating air out of him faster than he could bring it in. Johnny tried to gather himself and calm his breathing down, but his heart wouldn’t allow it, and continued pounding against the walls of its boney prison like a furious captive.

His eyes shook with anxiety as his pupils flashed from side to side, trying to use some amount of logic amongst his hysteria to convince himself everything was fine, and that his panic was just the result of another Godawful nightmare. Johnny noted the dark living room, the messy table, the quiet television set; nothing amiss or broken, nothing to indicate that anything in the apartment was any different from any other night, besides his quaking form bundled up on the sofa.

He turned his attention to Devi’s bedroom door, and his haggard breaths immediately stopped. Her door was ajar. He had never seen her door open when she was sleeping, ever.

A shaky inhale sucked down his throat, and he started shivering from his shoulders down his arms and to his stomach. There was a sudden, paralyzing feeling of nausea woven through his guts, and it was almost painful to make his knees lift him into a standing position, like forcing a rusted bolt to twist. He couldn’t get his back to straighten fully as he stood, so he crept with a nervous hunch in his shoulders toward Devi’s bedroom.

Johnny swallowed past the dry flesh of his mouth as he reached the threshold of the doorway. His breath trembled again; he was terrified that upon pushing open the door fully, he would find Devi’s lifeless body on the floor, right where he had ‘dreamed’ it was. He couldn’t bear the thought that his worst fear had come to fruition – that his crappy, broken mind failed to recognize reality from fantasy, and either it, or Meat, had tricked him into murdering Devi with a rage that he didn’t even have for her.

Despite his paralyzing fear, his hand settled onto the front of the door, and he creaked it open slowly. Johnny shakingly took a step inside, and even with the only light in the room being the dim reflection of a billboard outside, he could tell that there was nothing on the floor besides the usual scattered belongings. Certainly no bodies, and definitely not the one that belonged to Devi.

He brought his attention up to her bed, and his lips wibbled fearfully at the unidentifiable shape under the purple covers. He could see what would be assumed to be Devi’s head poking out of the lump, resting on a pillow, but that was all. Johnny gulped quietly again. His paranoia couldn’t let him leave it at that – he had to make sure that she was well, instead of just assuming she was sleeping peacefully.

He hurried to the side of the bed, and stared down with wide, fearful eyes at her neutral face that was tucked so snugly behind her curled hand. She wasn’t making any sounds, and he couldn’t tell with his own body shaking the way it was, if she was breathing or not. He continued staring, trying with all his might to determine if her body was rising and falling with lifegiving breath, and only grew more and more panicked the longer he couldn’t stop trembling and focus enough to confirm it.

With a renewed burst of anxiety, Johnny shot forward, jabbing a knee into the fluff of her comforter. He grabbed her by the shoulders to shake her awake with terrified urgency, unable to think of any other way to quell his fears fast enough. Devi’s eyes opened right away, rattling around in her aching head with confused alarm until she heard Johnny’s wailing.

“DEVI! DEVI, DEVI—!” His face pinched miserably as he saw her irises flicker into view and focus squarely on him. His fingers tightened onto her shoulders further as his began to shake again, and he drooped like a dejected, wilted flower against her collar. He continued calling her name, but his voice garbled as he deteriorated into sobs.

It took Devi a moment to register what the Hell was going on, but her shocked expression melted into a tired, exasperated one as she realized Johnny was just having a fit about something, again.

“Nny—Nny!” She tried to urge him out of his crying with a few shoves on the arm, but Johnny only continued blubbering. He was trying desperately to explain himself, Devi could gather that much, but he was completely incoherent. She sighed in exhaustion, desperate to calm him and go the fuck back to bed.

“Johnny,” She set a hand on his head, lazily leading it to lay flat on her mattress. “relax, please. Relax.”

Johnny, whose figure had been half-collapsed on her bed already, buckled from his distress, and he laid loosely at her side like a ragdoll.

“—you were dead, you were dead—!” He managed to blather out, and Devi sighed again. She assumed that this was the result of another nightmare he had, and papped his hair with as much sympathy as she was willing to muster in her fatigued state.

“I’m not dead, Nny. I’m fine… see…?” She mumbled with her eyes closed. Johnny stifled his crying as he tried to accept what she was telling him, but even with the affirmation that she was alive and well, he couldn’t stop his body’s pitiful reaction to fear. He hadn’t been so terrified in a long while – he couldn’t even remember what he would do to ease the feeling before.

A sudden sensation against his hairline startled him out of his grim thoughts, and he realized after a moment that it was Devi’s thumb idly brushing against his skin and into his hair. He stared at the sheets in surprise, unable to do much else besides focus on the strange scratching at his skull. Slowly, his eyelids lowered, but his somber expression remained. Johnny brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them tightly, hoping the pressure would help him relax.

Devi’s fingers stilled after a minute, and he felt her wrist settle loosely on his temple, then eventually slip lower until her forearm rested across the side of his neck. He sniffed, and bent his head down more, but instead of his forehead settling onto his kneecaps, it was obstructed by something warm and flat.

Johnny tilted his head up at an angle, and was surprised to see that what he’d bumped into was Devi’s collar – or rather, the area right below her collar. Her sternum; the bone that he had so viciously impaled with a knife several times in his newest dream. Guilt demanded that he pull his head away from where it rested, but as he turned his head, his ear pressed against her and he felt the light thumping of her heart tickle at his skin. Johnny froze, and his stillness offered him the full, uninterrupted rhythm of Devi’s heartbeat.

Even with his own heart pumping erratically, the sound of Devi’s heart was so audible and loud to the ear that was currently resting against her chest. It was just like any heartbeat, he supposed, but it was so calm and steady, much in contrast to his own which was still wild from coming down off of terror-induced adrenaline. The stable rhythm slowly began to calm him, and he took deep solace in the fact that as long as he could hear that drumming in his ear, it meant that she was alive. He curled further into himself, making sure that his temple was still pressed firmly against her collar.

Johnny chastised himself for a moment, trying to argue through his emotional exhaustion that this was, to some extent, inappropriate, and that now that he knew Devi was safe, he should leave her to rest. But he couldn’t resist the lure of Devi’s soft skin on his cheek, or her arm that was draped over his head, that made him feel oh-so cozy and secure. His eyes settled shut, and with a few lingering post-sobbing sniffs, slipped back into sleep.

--

THE FOLLOWING MORNING:

Devi mumbled in the back of her throat as she roused from slumber. There was still a dull ache in her brain, and she wasn’t currently at all fond of the idea of opening her eyes or waking up. Her lip twitched at a weird texture flittering against it, and she snorted to encourage whatever it was to fuck off. Her breathing started to slow again, but after a moment, the tickling feeling moved up to her nose, making it curl and huff in annoyance.

She brushed the unknown irritant away with her hand, and opened her eyes bitterly as she accepted that going back to sleep wasn’t going to happen now. She stretched her back out with a groaning sigh, and brought the same hand up to rub her face clear of any grogginess. As she did, the tuft of annoying, plumy things that had woken her up settled back against her mouth. Devi glared out at nothing in aggravation, then flicked her eyes down to finally see what it was.

Her eyes widened in confusion to be greeted with a pile of twisted, black hair. The confusion was short-lived as she realized that the hair was attached to Johnny, who was curled up in a ball beside her within the small space that her bent legs allowed, his head tucked comfortably under her chin. She blanched, and her cheeks quickly grew red from embarrassment and disoriented, shocked anger.

With a jolt of ego-preserving violence, she shoved him away and off of the bed, leaving only his skinny legs splayed in awkward angles atop the mattress. Devi sat up and glared at his boots.

“Johnny, what the Hell!” She huffed, her cheeks still tinged with color. Johnny rebounded from the initial shock of hitting the floor rather quickly, scampering up into a kneel at the side of her bed.

“OH, UH, I—” His own face blushed in shame, and he looked up to Devi’s glowering face, hoping that she wouldn’t be too angry with him. “I uh, I guess I… I fell asleep, after, um…”

His fingers drummed awkwardly against the sheets as he looked around the room noncommittally. Devi’s expression dropped as she remembered, foggily, Johnny coming into her room during the night in absolute hysterics. She grunted and scowled with some acceptance that he’d ended up passing out beside her.

“You moron.” Was all she could say. Johnny raised his eyes to look at her dejectedly, and she scoffed. She threw her legs off the other side of the bed, and walked around it, and Johnny, to reach her bathroom.

Johnny’s lip stuck out curiously. He wondered if that was going to be the extent of his punishment for unwanted physical contact, but dared not ask. Instead, he pulled himself up to sit on the corner of her bed and waited patiently for her to return. He hoped she didn’t come back with anything to hit him with, like the good, old-fashioned, ‘bar of soap in a sock’ flail.

Devi only washed her face, then reentered her room to frown at him. She crossed her arms at the sight of him sitting on her bed, and Johnny held his hands between his knees, timidly avoiding what he assumed was a bitter glare from her. Devi rolled her eyes as she sighed, and joined him on the edge of her mattress.

“Another nightmare, Nny?” She asked. Johnny’s head lowered from the annoyance in her voice.

“Yes…” He mumbled, twiddling his thumbs nervously. He heard Devi scoff again, and he felt further guilt that she was unaware of the seriousness behind his night terrors. After her unintentionally warm comforting the night previous, he felt compelled to tell her the truth.

“Devi, uh, I actually… there’s something I must confess.” Johnny looked to her, and Devi’s mouth flattened in surprise. She hoped silently that this wasn’t something romantic, given the already ridiculous start to her day. Johnny swung his legs absentmindedly.

“Well, you see…” A sigh. “I’ve been having these… “nightmares”, for months.”

“All of them have been about, well, killing you.” Johnny grimaced as he said it, and Devi’s expression shifted to a different kind of surprise. Johnny continued. “Each time I fall asleep, they get worse; more vivid, more violent. Last night’s was the worst one to date. It was so real, Devi, I—I swore that I’d killed you. I was so certain…”

His hands gripped at the fabric of his pants nervously.

“…I think Meat’s behind it.” He said finally, and Devi took new, startled interest in his admission. They were quiet a moment before Devi replied.

“You really think the dreams are his doing?”

“I do.” He affirmed. “He doesn’t speak to me very often now that I live here, but I’m sure it’s him. I… I don’t know why he’s doing it, but I’m sure that he’s influencing them to be so gory and… awful… and you-related.”

Devi pondered this new development with a healthy amount of bitter suspicion. As far as she knew, Reverend Meat wanted Johnny to live, and had yet to try and influence him to kill anyone. What he wanted Johnny to do was engage in normal human-y things, and lose himself to his emotions, to his feelings. His feelings for her, in this case specifically. She slid her attention back to him with her suspicions hidden, as to not inadvertently express it to Johnny, and Meat, by extension.

“Did you have a nightmare after you fell asleep in my bed?” She asked.

Johnny blinked, having not bothered to even think about that until she mentioned it.

“Oh… no, I didn’t.” He replied. Devi pursed her mouth, convinced she knew the reason for Meat’s meddling this time.

He was trying to drive Johnny directly into her arms, like a bovine herder whacking his cattle with an electric rod. It boiled her blood to think of that shitty little parasite being so crafty. It would be easy for Meat to convince Johnny, without words, that he was urging him to commit violent acts, like Johnny’s previous voices, when in actuality, he was still just pushing this ‘physical longing’ crap.

“I’m sorry Devi…” Johnny’s head hung pathetically. “I know I should have told you. I was just so afraid… Afraid that you wouldn’t… trust me, again.”

He lifted his head.

“So much has changed since we, uh, ‘reunited’, if you’d want to call it that.” He mumbled. “I was scared that everything would regress back to the way it used to be. Everything is so nice now, I didn’t want to disturb it if I didn’t have to.”

Devi frowned at him in disbelief. She was still unused to any kind of heartfelt comments from anyone, especially him. For a moment, she debated whether or not to inform Johnny of the conclusion she’d just come to.

It could be beneficial to let him know, even if that would let Meat know as well, but then Johnny would probably go out of his way to avoid any touching, and maybe even hide his emotions more, just as a precaution to keep any and all feelings for her in check and not vulnerable to the Reverend, as futile as that would be. Devi hated to admit that she… didn’t want that. She liked bothering him, and it was nice to have such a casual friendship with someone after all these years of crappy people and self-made solitude.

She let her shoulders sag in defeat to her own wretched feelings.

“Yeah, things are nice now.” She smiled at him. Johnny was surprised that she would agree with him, and grinned shyly back at her.

“You still should have told me though, idiot.” Devi added with a meaner smirk, and Johnny shrugged in reply with a laugh. Devi pushed his shoulder.

“I’ll forgive you if you make me breakfast.” She offered, and Johnny jumped at the opportunity.

“Okay!” His smile grew wider, and he began slinking off toward the kitchen, lingering as though he was urging her to follow him.

Devi snorted a laugh and got up to join him. She would just keep these nightmares under close observation for now, until she was sure that she was correct about Meat’s intentions.

--

NEXT.

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 42b

Duffy sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She'd almost dropped off to sleep when she heard giggling.

“Ssh, mummy’s sleepy.” Charlie whispered to Emily, coming back from the toilet.

"Everything OK?"

“Had poo.” Emily declared.

"Well done sweetheart." Duffy chuckled.

“Tummy no urt now!”

"That's good darling."

Emily reached out for her mum.

"Shall we have a little snooze?" Duffy asked as Emily clambered over.

“Ep!”

Once the little girl had gotten comfortable Duffy kissed the top of her head and looked over at the other children. "I'm surprised she's the only one that's woken up."

“Me too. Em’s usually a deep sleeper as well.”

"Probably the change in routine."

“Yeah probably.”

"She's doing so well all things considered." Duffy whispered as she stroked Emily's hair.

“Really well.” Charlie agreed.

"I can't believe she's completed a whole year at school already and that the twins will be going a couple of weeks after we get back."

“I know. It’s scary.” He smiled, “She's doing amazingly well. Better than we thought.”

"She's surpassed all expectations."

“She really has.”

"I still blame myself for all her struggles." Duffy whispered.

“Why?” He asked with a frown.

"I know everyone tells me that there's nothing I could have done differently but it's still there in the back of my mind. Especially these last few months..." She sighed.

“Em was premature because she was stubborn and wanted to meet her parents.” He smiled sadly, “You couldn’t have stopped that from happening. Em takes after you, she’s impatient.”

"I know, I know." She sighed, mentally shaking herself. "I just fear history repeating itself." She admitted.

“If we have another baby?”

She nodded. "We might not be as lucky this time."

“It’s understandable to be scared.” He reassured.

Duffy kissed the little girl's hair and snuggled the child closer in her arms.

“Do you want another baby? Despite all the fears?”

"You're asking me this now?" Duffy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” Charlie tucked her hair behind her ear.

She took a deep breath. "I do. I'm just scared." She sighed. She mustered a small smile. "We can't really change our minds now anyway."

“Not when I’ve come in you, no.” He laughed gently.

"So vulgar!" She rolled her eyes.

“Wouldn’t have me any other way.” He laughed. They ended up falling asleep not long afterwards.

They were awoken a few hours later by the announcement that the plane was preparing to land. Duffy smiled as she noticed that whilst they'd been sleeping Charlie's hand had come to rest against her stomach.

He had a good feeling this time. He smiled shyly when he woke, realising the placement of his hand. “Sorry.”

"Don't apologise. We'll know in a week or two." She smiled shyly.

He smiled brightly, “Fingers crossed.”

"I'm feeling lucky this time." She smiled. She attempted to move Emily without waking her so that she was strapped in ready for the landing.

“Me too.” He smiled and helped strap Emily into her chair.

The next couple of hours passed in a blur as they landed and went through the various checks at the airport. Finally they arrived outside the house where they'd be staying whilst they were in Canada.

“Wow! This place is beautiful.” Charlie commented as he looked up at the house.

"I still can't believe we're here." Duffy replied.

“Doesn’t seem real, does it?”

"Not at all." She turned to look at the kids. "Right, everyone out!"

Everyone clambered out of the car.

They'd barely got the front door open before the kids were charging in to see which bedrooms they had. The boys were sharing one room whilst the girls were sharing another.

The girls giggled before they clambered all over their beds.

"So what's the plan now?" Duffy asked Charlie as they stood in the hallway surrounded by their cases.

“I didn’t get that far in thinking.” He admitted and laughed.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" She giggled. She bent down, opened their suitcase and pulled out a box of teabags. "Cuppa?"

“Cuppa.” He answered back.

She went through to the kitchen and fixed them both a drink. "When are we letting Louis know we're here?"

“Tomorrow? He probably already knows because I doubt Baz would’ve kept it a secret.”

Duffy made a rude noise of disgust. "You ask one thing of her..!" She rolled her eyes.

“I know.” He sighed.

"I was hoping she might have decided to put the past behind her by now."

“Me too.”

They walked through to the lounge and had just gotten comfortable when there was a loud bang from upstairs. Followed by a loud cry.

"Oh shit!" Duffy gasped as she put down her mug and made her way quickly to the stairs. Followed by Charlie. Lottie had fallen off the bed and was crying.

"What happened?" Duffy asked the other girls as she checked Lottie hadn't seriously hurt herself.

She hadn’t. She’d just landed on her bottom. “Lottie ell off bed.” Emily replied.

"Fell or did one of you push her?" She asked, eyeballing Tilly in particular.

Tilly frowned. “Not push her! She ell!”

"Matilda Fairhead the truth please!" Duffy warned.

Tilly stomped her foot. “Didn’t!” Lottie shook her head, “Tilly no ush. Ell off, backwards.”

"Lottie?"

“It ruth.” She replied quietly.

"Right, OK. I'm sorry Tilly. Are you OK now Lottie?"

Tilly nodded at the same time as Lottie.

"No jumping on the bed in future and then no-one will get hurt. OK?" She sighed as she got up and walked back to where Charlie stood in the doorway. "Not another girl this time ok?" She muttered with a grimace.

He smirked, “Why not?”

"I can give you three very good reasons..!"

“Go on.” He replied.

"They go by the names of Emily, Matilda and Charlotte."

He laughed gently. “Here’s hoping our final baby is a boy. A son.”

She turned to walk down the stairs, somewhat confident that the girls were behaving themselves again. "Its a cliche but vehicles do seem to equal boys." She chuckled.

He laughed gently. “Hmm, yeah.”

Reaching the lounge she stretched out on the sofa, letting out a sigh as she did.

He smiled as he watched her.

"We made here in one piece." She glanced towards the stairs. "Well, just about..!"

“Yep, just about.” He laughed again.

"Well here's to a q..." She paused and laughed. "Yeh, let's not tempt the fates with that word!"

“Please don’t.”

"Q... U..." She teased.

“Ssh.” He put his finger to her lip.

She licked his finger.

“If only you were licking something else.” He whispered.

She laughed before sucking his finger into her mouth.

“Duffy!” He groaned softly.

She drew back and smiled innocently. "What?"

“You know what.”

"I don't." She gasped, mock offended.

He smirked and gently moved to kiss her neck.

She let out a moan and pulled him down towards the sofa when suddenly the doorbell rang.

He nipped her neck and then groaned hearing the door. “I better go.” He pushed himself back up.

"Who knows we're even here?" She asked, confused.

He shrugged. He went to the door, opening it slightly. “Hello?”

"Daddy!" Louis yelled.

Charlie smiled brightly, “Louis!!” He picked his son up and hugged him tightly. “You’ve grown!”

"Mummy said you were here. Is everyone else here too?"

“Yes everyone's here too!”

Louis craned his head to try and see over his dad's shoulder to spot his siblings.

“They’re all upstairs.” Charlie kissed the top of Louis' head. “Do you want to go and play?”

"Yes!"

Charlie smiled and put Louis down on the floor. He laughed as he watched his son race up the stairs to join his siblings. He turned to Baz. “Hi.”

Hearing the commotion Duffy had come into the hallway.

"Hi." Baz replied shortly.

“Thank you for bringing him.”

"Well, I didn't really have a lot of choice seeing as how you all flew over here." She shrugged.

Duffy sighed. "Would it hurt you to be gracious?" She rolled her eyes.

“We came on a holiday. Is that so terrible for you, Baz?”

"Well, I had been planning to take him on holiday myself." Baz complained.

"We told you as soon as we knew we were coming here Baz." Duffy pointed out, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

“Of course you were.” Charlie replied, “Well, he’s here now. Why don’t you go to work or something?”

“Shut up.” Baz said to Duffy.

"Can't hack it when it's not all about you?" Duffy goaded.

“I’m warning you!” Baz threatened.

"You honestly think I'm scared of a stuck up cow like you?" Duffy asked as she took a step closer.

"You're supposed to keep dogs on short leashes around here Charlie." Baz remarked sarcastically.

“I thought the only dog around here was you, but I was clearly mistaken.” Charlie answered back as his arm came to wrap around Duffy’s waist protectively.

Baz scowled. "I expect MY son home by 8pm." She insisted before storming back to her car.

“Fine!”

[blue---rose]

White Widow - Chapter Three

Fanfiction.net | AO3

Title: White Widow Chapter: Three Author: Blue Rose Rating: M (Hard R) Pairing: Sasuke/Sakura Summary: "Running away was easy; not knowing what to do next was the hard part." - Sakura needed to stop fantasizing about running away to some other life, and start figuring out the one she had. [Sasu/Saku, Modern AU]

Warnings: Adult Content Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I damn sure don't make a single red cent for this either. So please, don't sue the Blue

Author Notes: If you like please don't forget to review/comment/like. Kudo's to my amazing beta: MySoberThoughts.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

-  ﾟ･*･ﾟ -   Chap 1 -  ﾟ･*･ﾟ -  Chap 2 -  ﾟ･*･ﾟ -  

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Chapter Three

The front windows of the SUV were rolled down slightly, letting in a cool breeze. Parked on a quiet street, it sat next to a large maple tree that provided a protective shade from the bright sun. The glass was tinted, partially concealing the driver as his head leaned back against the headrest. A finger ideally tapped the steering wheel while dark eyes peered down the street, watching passing cars and pedestrians alike.

The area was pretty calm during this time of day. Nothing looked out of the ordinary… at least, not to the untrained eye. His eyes were focused on his target when his phone started to vibrate, immediately turning his attention away. Pale fingers reached out, retrieving it from the dashboard mount. His steady gaze shifted over the words, reading the incoming message notification before opening it.

Message:

"Hey, are you in the city? And before you yell at me; yes. I asked 'scruff lord' first."

Sasuke frowned, a stray lock falling to his brow as he wrote back. Had she heard from him? He straightened in his seat, ignoring the small bark from beside him as his phone vibrated in his hand. His eyes read the reply.

Message:

"Nope."

Making an impatient noise, his finger swiped across the screen. Bringing the device to his ear, he listened as it rang once, before a breathily voice picked up.

"Oh!? A phone call? Now this is a special occasion… to what do I owe the honor?" Ino sassed into his ear, in lieu of a proper greeting.

"You really haven't heard from him? Calls or texts?" Sasuke ignored her teasing.

"No, not for a while actually..."

He continued to listen as he leaned back against the headrest, glancing down the street to Kiba's duplex. His eyes scrutinized the dark sedan parked near the entrance, a few houses away. Sasuke had the perfect view from where he sat just around the corner, near the intersection. He was fairly confident he had not been spotted by its driver.

"-Well, he never responded so I'm reaching out to you. I just need some bud, and another friend of mines wants vike. I have cash, because the DollarApp phone thingy isn't working right now. Kiba's not picking up so-…"

"Yeah, whatever… just let me know how much-" A flash of pink from the corner of his eye had him turning his head, to look out the window. Dark eyes narrowing below furrowed brows as he saw-

"…Sakura?"

"Huh? What was that?"

His gazed volleyed back and forth between the pink haired woman standing across the street, waiting for the cross signal to turn; to the sedan parked further down the block, sitting near the duplex.

A few seconds passed before he perked up, moving into action.

He had just enough time to roll up the windows before making a grab for his keys in the console.

"-Gotta go." He ended the call abruptly, opening the truck's heavy door.

:✧･ ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ ･✧:

Sakura ideally played with the lightweight scarf around her neck, a pale shade of green that brought out her eyes. The digits trailed to her pocket, running them across the cold metal of the keys resting inside before she pulled her hand out, zipping the pocket for safe keeping.

She welcomed the brief distraction the visit would provide from the work she was putting off. Her last few days were spent packing, preparing for her upcoming move. Going through drawers and other spaces turned up a lot of lost or forgotten things at her place.

She had been meaning to return the found items to Kiba, for quite some time now. A few calls and texts were sent, but there was no reply… just radio silence. She wasn't too concerned about it; there were many times in the past where he went missing for a few days, or even weeks. It didn't happen often, but she was still a bit miffed with the non-responses.

Alas, here she was… dropping by un-announced to come bug her sometimes-reclusive friend. She definitely could use the break. Her quest for a distraction manifested however, in the literal sense when she collided unexpectedly with someone.

"Whoa! Excuse me-"

She had just crossed the street; one heeled bootie just making it up on the curb, before the sudden impact. It wasn't hard enough for her to lose her footing, but it did catch her by surprise. She looked up mid-apology, only to be swept up in a hypnotic swirl of ink.

"Wh-…Sasuke?"

He only deposited a squirming Akamaru in her arms before taking her elbow, directing her to the left. They walked in the opposite direction of their friend's apartment, moving briskly down the sidewalk. She stumbled briefly, quickening her steps so she could match his longer stride. She could feel the warmth of his hand, even beneath the layers of clothing.

"Keep walking."

That was the only directive given for a time, until they were a block or so away. She finally turned, sitting down the puppy. Akamaru bounced around their feet, but she ignored him in favor of his human counterpart. Looking up in bemusement, she waited for an explanation.

"Have you spoken to Kiba?" Sasuke asked, fingers brushing the nylon leash wrapped around his wrist.

She shook her head, soft swept bangs framing her face as he peered down at her.

"No. I've been looking for him, though." She blinked up at him, eyes squinting in contemplation. "Why? What's going on?"

His strange behavior was setting her on edge.

Sasuke shifted, eyes darting up as a jogger ran past. Akamaru gave a brief chase after the unsuspecting runner, but the leash pulled, making him give up.

"He's been gone, and…" Sasuke started, meeting her eyes once again. When there was another pause, she began to realize that getting direct answers from this man was akin to pulling teeth.

He clearly wanted to say more, but hesitated. She made an effort to remove any impatience from her tone as she prodded gently, "…-And?"

"…And now, there's a car staking out the place."

She frowned, glancing behind him down the street. "Police?" she whispered.

"Not sure yet." He turned to look in the same direction, before turning to meet her eyes.

"Don't go near there. I don't want whoever has eyes on the place, to see you hanging around."

Sakura's brows drew together in a frown, perturbed at what this could all mean.

He just continued on, voice still carrying as he turned to leave.

"I'll meet up with you and Ino, later. We'll talk more, then."

With that, Sasuke walked back towards the direction they came… Akamaru trailing along behind him.

She blinked, belatedly realizing she never asked him why he had Kiba's dog in the first place.

Just what the hell was going on?

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The office's decor housed some very unique pieces of antique furniture. They were placed strategically around the spacious area, mixing abnormally well among the otherwise, modern layout. A hand carved, large oak desk the man currently sat behind, was one of them.

Eyes skimmed the documents placed in front of him hours ago; pouring over everything while taking notes in the margins. The reading glasses perched low on his nose allowed him to scan the words, without everything blurring together as they tended to do, in recent years. The door opening to the room did not entice him to raise his head, but he did pause in his work… head inclining slightly.

"I take it, you took care of things?" He asked. The muted sound of the pen moving across the paper was drowned by a heavy grunt soon after.

The newcomer sat down in a cozy overstuffed chair, sinking down in the worn leather. "It's been handled."

Another pause, before the man behind the desk finally glanced up. "And you are sure this was the right course of action?"

Their eyes met above the computer monitor, before the guest broke the stare with a smirk. "A little too late, to ask such a thing, is it not?"

The pen hovered above another document, his gaze falling to pay attention to his work, once again. "I suppose it is…"

:✧･ ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ ･✧:

The heavy door swung open, allowing the puppy to walk through and enter. Akamaru made a beeline for the water dish, anxious to take a few refreshing laps.

Sasuke sighed, moving to hang the leash on the coat rack. Shrugging out of his jacket, he walked further into the loft.

"Did you know, I really made that key for you to use in emergencies?" He asked his brother, making his way to the fridge for a drink. He felt the other man's presence when he walked in, before he ever caught sight of him in his peripheral. The older Uchiha stood from the sofa, coming to stand next to the kitchen island.

"Noted. Now on to more important things… did you find out anything? I see you still have the dog."

"I think someone put eyes on Kiba's. I don't know who… but I should know something soon."

"You should be more careful. You shouldn't have driven your own car over there until you know who that is. Don't be sloppy."

"I'm not. They were amateurs… had no idea they were being watched, themselves." Sasuke grumbled, pouring the filtered water into a glass, before taking a sip.

Narrowing his eyes, his older brother cut right to the chase.

"Are you sure about this? Is he hiding from someone? Maybe some trouble you've kept from me?"

"No… he's been dependable since we've known him, so why start some shit now, by pulling this?"

Itachi just sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why. I'm not a babysitter Sasuke."

Sasuke wanted to say something else that would have had his brother reaching out to take a swipe at him. And if his memory was as sharp as he knew it to be, Itachi would have connected the blow. Instead, he took a deep breath… trying to make sense of the situation.

"I just… I think something is up, but I don't want to cause a full-blown panic either."

"And his friends? What are they saying?"

"Nothing so far. l'll see what I can find out tonight, and if she knows anything."

"…-She?"

His face immediately went blank, eyes fluttering to glance at his older brother briefly… before returning to the countertop.

"I'll let you know if I learn anything."

' Please don't talk. '

Sasuke raised the glass to his lips again.

' Please… just… don't say a fucking word… '

His brother's eyes had not left him, dark stare holding his own over the glass.

' For once, in your miserable life, don't you  fucking  dare make fun of me or- '

Itachi's mouth twitched, the corner turning up in a hint of a smile. Sasuke caught sight of it before the elder turned his back, moving away from the kitchen to leave.

"Ok… keep me posted." Itachi said retreating to the front door, slipping on his shoes.

Sasuke grunted, in disbelief he was being spared a round of relentless teasing… this time. Rolling his eyes he headed for the fridge again, looking for something to eat. Why did his brother even bother coming over, when he could have just called?

Itachi paused, looking back at him. "And Sasuke? Watch yourself. Until we know more…"

"…Yeah." he replied, already on the same page.

Their eyes met before he closed the door, leaving the younger siblings' home.

:✧･ ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ ･✧:

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

Everything began to tighten as she squirmed against the sheets, her soft belly curving in as her breath was stolen. Pleasure hummed throughout her body as her lips parted. She had to lick them, catching the bottom one in-between her teeth, as another moan vibrated against her throat.

Her hair clouded some of her vision, the thick strands falling around her in a pretty mess as they continued to move. His large hands clasped her hips so perfectly, pulling and guiding, as she rolled with his momentum.

Her breath caught as she chased the rhythm he'd set for them both.

His magisterial pace was satisfying, moving her with him through every slick glide. His hair hung wildly in his face, casting his eyes in shadow as he flexed against her, grunting on a particularly deep thrust.

She reached back, her hand wrapping around his straining forearm. She felt the protruding veins beneath her sensitive finger pads, and her fingers tensed… nails biting gently into his damp skin. Looking behind, she met his gaze as she pushed back, their skin slapping together in one of the most sexiest sounds she'd ever heard in her life.

Her feet braced in the plush carpet, between his own.

Sakura's knees locked, trying to hitch her hips as high as they could go, while keeping her upper half flush against the bed beneath her. A soft pillow had been shoved beneath her hips ages ago, to help keep the angle that was driving them both insane.

He growled and moved one of his hands to grasp her ass, palming and pulling, eager to fuck her as hard as she was begging him to. The air was heated between them; the atmosphere becoming so heavily charged… crawling over them both as the excitement grew.

She whined underneath him, starting to ache in the best, and worst ways…

Something was approaching, making her clench deep inside and she pushed back against him.

Bottomless pools of green kept on him… through it all.

The look she gave over her shoulder ensnared him completely. She needed to see if he was going to finish what he started. He promised to make her fall apart, and stop the ache that was building...

…A heat that kept rising from the place he was currently penetrating, over and over and over again.

"Please-!" She could not help the cry that escaped in that moment. The plea was so honest, so desperate…

It was  so close , damnit.

All he needed to do was shift… just a little.

But… shit … maybe she could do it all on her own… just raise a knee to the bed to contort her body in just the right angle and…

"God…!"

Oh… it was so close…

And she finally closed her eyes as he-

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

"Sakura!"

A whimper escaped as she flinched, blinking rapidly as her tired mind tried to catch up with reality.

"W-…What?"

"I said 'We're here'. It's barely nine, you can't be that sleepy. Come on." The blonde exited the car, making sure to tug down the hem to her ridiculously short dress.

Sakura sighed, pulling out her compact to check for drool marks. She couldn't believe she had such a vivid dream like that. Hadn't she just closed her eyes for a moment? Her head rested against the glass but she didn't mean to fall asleep after Ino picked her up.

Although, now that she remembered… she was going out under protest. She thought it was going to be another lazy night of packing and ice-cream, but her best friend had other plans. Just one drink, she said.

And Ino being Ino… was not taking no for an answer.

'Besides', she had tried to reason, 'You get to see your booty-call again.'

It was a tempting thought, then, when it was first mentioned… but now they were here? Her stomach was doing flips. Why the hell was she so nervous all of a sudden? The butterfly faze should end once you've seen each other naked, right? Wasn't that how it should work?

Sighing, she closed the compact with a snap and stashed it in her bag. There were no lines on her face… but there was a redness that did not come from the blush makeup used earlier.

"You said a bar, this looks more like a night club… am I underdressed?" Sakura asked as they approached the entryway. Ino turned; giving her ripped black jeans and red-bottomed heels a once over.

"It's a hookah lounge-bar, with a nightclub in the upper level. And you look gorgeous; no one is turning you away from any door, ever. Besides, you're with me… duh."

Grabbing her hand, she marched them to the front, winking at the doorman who lifted the velvet rope. Another bouncer held open the door as the two ducked inside.

Sakura somberly hoped this would not be an all-night excursion.

:✧･ ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ ･✧:

There were two things that stuck out to him, after meeting her for the very first time.

The first?

She had breathtakingly, beautiful eyes.

If you were in close proximity to her… you definitely took notice.

Even the most reserved or poised individual found themselves looking a bit longer than deemed appropriate sometimes. It always traveled into uncomfortable scrutiny if they weren't careful. Many people were given a pass though.

He even heard Ino tell her on one occasion that; 'staring came with being as pretty as she was', and that at least people chose to ogle her eyes, and not something else.

In a weird way, what she said made sense.

Besides… they were pretty.

An unusual shade of green that had to be seen, up close, to really get the full effect.

The second thing he could remember?

She wasn't irritating.

Granted, she had her quirks.

The obnoxious shade of hair that made spotting her entirely too easy…

The animated way she talked sometimes, hands waving and gesturing; hoping to help you keep up with the conversation…

There was a bit more to it, than just tolerating her, too. She was one of the only people he'd met, whose rambling didn't grate on his nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. Conversations; though short between them in the past, were usually pleasant enough. It never felt forced, and even the silence was comfortable.

She was into fashion and jewelry, but was not obnoxious with it all. She was smart and confident, but genuinely humble and kind. She cared for those close to her and took little, to no shit from everyone else. She'd proven herself to be loyal and true from what he could see, with those who knew her and called her a friend.

It was always easy to be in her presence since they'd first been introduced.

Well…

At least it had been, up until this past New Years.

And that… he would place squarely on her shoulders.

Shifting on the barstool, he glanced up at the endless liquor bottles and giant mirrors lining the wall behind the bar, finding his own reflection easily.

And why was thinking about such things to begin with?

He liked her.

It was a thought that flashed across his mind more than once since their fateful encounter.

He didn't chase… and he damn sure wasn't the clingy type. He usually was not the first to reach out. He was the one who shied away from repeated encounters. He was the one who avoided phone calls and dodged texts.

So to be put in such a position… was foreign to him.

He lost the opportunity to dwell on such thoughts as the quiet moment was interrupted; they had arrived. He caught sight of them as they entered, as did a few other men sitting at the bar around him. He watched through the mirror as they made their way to a cozy booth in the back, quickly ordering drinks. Taking a minute to finish his own, he made his way towards them.

Sasuke slipped inside the booth, causing the blonde to look up, setting her drink down to acknowledge him. "Well hello there, handsome." Ino greeted, pearly whites smiling at him.

His eyes flashed to Sakura, who was sitting on the other side of Ino, and gave a general greeting to them both. She'd barely kept his gaze, eyes shifting to the table after muttering a quick 'Hey'.

He could feel her unease, even from here. That made no difference. His mood was on the darker side tonight, so he really didn't care. He would embrace any temporary distraction, even if it was a mild confrontation.

Besides… they hadn't even started.

Ino reached up, slipping her clutch from the table to sit it against her thigh.

Turning his attention elsewhere for the time being, he retrieved a few zipped pouched bags from his inner pocket, sliding them easily into Ino's waiting hands. Moments later, folded bills were handed back.

Once that business settled, he moved on to another topic.

"Kiba's gone missing." He started. Sakura perked up, eyes lifting to meet his.

"He's pulled this before." Ino wasn't the least bit worried. "It just means he needs a few days to himself. He takes these breaks to deal with anxiety and other shit. Just give him some space."

"How long before? Without any of you knowing where he went?"

Ino paused, thinking hard.

Sakura's brow furrowed, shaking her head slightly.

"I think he's always told at least one person when he did. Besides, he hasn't done that since high school, right?" She asked glancing to her side at her blonde friend, who nodded in response.

"I have his mutt. I was supposed to meet up with him to drop him off, but..." he trailed off, but was soon interrupted.

"He'll turn up. He's probably just laying low for a while."

Sasuke knew he sounded like a broken record, but he needed to be sure…

"And neither of you have seen him, you're sure?"

"Yes, we are sure." Ino felt like they were being interrogated, and was becoming agitated. Everyone just needed to chill, and give the boy some space. If he needed a little time for himself, then they should let him have it. Besides, knowing Kiba he's liable to show up a week from now; with a tan and smelling like cheap perfume and coconut oil.

Sasuke relented, letting it go. "Just let me know if you hear anything."

His eyes met both of their own, and the girls gave slight nods in agreement.

Sasuke's eyes traveled past the blonde to the quiet girl on her other side. He silently dared her to look his way, but to no avail. She shifted discreetly, but the movement was caught by the other two parties.

Ino's eyes narrowed between the two of them, eyes darting back and forth before sucking her teeth.

Really, now… why the hell was there so much... tension? Didn't they already do the sex thing?

"So lame..."

Dark eyes blinked before darting to her much lighter ones, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Hn?" He leaned away when her lip curled.

Drowning the rest of her martini, Ino grabbed her clutch, feeling the slight, added weight to the purse, and nudged Sasuke's side. They were boring her with all this pussyfooting.

"Nothing... now let me up, I'm going to take this to my friends upstairs. Thanks for coming through with this." Standing to her feet, she accepted the polite hand he held out to help.

"A gentleman too? Hmmm…" Ino smirked as she passed him, ignoring a random cat-call from a group of guys near the front. She climbed the stairs to the upper level, leaving her best friend to the dark wolf.

Sakura was oblivious to her new predicament, slowly moving to exit from the other side of the booth, but paused then Sasuke moved in the way. Sitting down, he slid across the dark leather, to settle flush against her side.

Now to handle the third reason he was here.

"Have a drink with me." He nodded to the cocktail waitress, who made her way over to them.

"I already had one-" she started, watching Ino's back as she disappeared from view.

"Then have another." He cut her off, body rigid next to her, despite the smoothness of his voice.

She could feel the hum of energy his body seemed to exude.

She shifted as their arms brushed against each other, still nothing but a bottle of nerves… eyes darting from Ino's abandoned drink to her own; refusing to meet his eyes.

There was silence as neither said a word, and even their drinks being placed in front of them did not break the heavy tension surrounding them. Biting her lip, she finally spoke up.

"Well… this isn't awkward at all."

There, she broke the ice.

At least… she hoped it would have that effect.

"More awkward than leaving the next day, to another country?"

"You really think that that; was the only reason I left?"

He had some nerve, and was a lot more arrogant than she gave him credit for.

"I didn't know you'd left, until a few days later." He took a long sip from his beer, his thumb wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of his lip. Her eyes followed the movement, drifting away before she got caught. He shifted beside her, before turning metal dark eyes to her.

"I didn't… have your number, so I got it from Ino."

' I had yours. '

She thanked any god who was listening that she did not say that out loud. Sinking underneath the table would not be low enough to erase her mortification. She could not recall exactly how, or when she came into possession of it, but she did have it saved in her phone, long before their tyst.

"I called you." He admitted, taking another drink.

' I know. '

She saw the call when it came through, along with the second one; the next day after that.

"It must have shown as a blocked number so I didn't pick up… sorry."

"I texted you." Something shifted in his gaze while he looked at her, and she was hard-pressed to look away. She became aware of the heat, radiating from his body and they… they were sitting way too close.

"I may be a lot of things, but I'm no one's fucking regret."

That snapped her back to the present, and she blinked rapidly, her brow lowered.

"Me? I thought you did…"

She thought he regretted it all, or at the very least… didn't really care.

He said nothing as his gaze remained locked on hers, not moving as he waited to see if she was joking or not. When she still sat there his eyes narrowed, his body turning slightly towards her and she leaned back; wide, pretty green eyes sparkling.

Successfully intimidated, she sputtered over her words as she finally began telling her story, explaining why she felt the way she felt, and had taken such a stance in the first place…

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

Sakura half listened to what he was saying as he sat on the edge of the bed, phone to his ear as he drags his discarded jeans from the floor. His voice is scuffed when he answers his phone; hardened from use over the last few hours no doubt … and even she can tell he is peeved. There was a brief pause, his eyes shifting behind to glance at her, before speaking into the device.

"…-Nothing important."

Coldness… seeming to come from nowhere, crept through her body at his words, the feeling of something very close to rejection and humiliation… made her fingers numb. He did not see her reaction as he stood, wandering over to the tall windows. He spoke in a raspy tone, the hushed words too low for her to now overhear.

Sakura swung her legs down, wincing at the slight throb between her thighs. She would definitely need to soak in the tub, after all of the rough play, no doubt.

But first, she needed to make a timely escape.

This would be easier, if this was not her temporary domain. If it weren't, she could just grab her shoes and make her way to the front door. Alas, that was not an option at this point. The bathroom would have to suffice… either that, or go down in the elevator.

She was halfway to the door when his voice stopped her. Finished with his call, he was now trying to explain his upcoming, hasty departure. She turned with a smile that didn't meet her eyes, watching as his chest disappeared behind the shirt he just found. She cheerily replied not to worry, and she would catch up with him later...

All without breaking her stride until she was hidden behind the safety of the bathroom door.

✧･ﾟ* : *ﾟ･✧

He continued to stare at her, even as her voice trailed off.

She didn't dare move, watching closely to see what his reaction would be. He broke their gaze and reached for his beer, taking another swig.

Placing it on the table, he looked at her, opening his mouth to say something…

…Only to change his mind instead, picking up the bottle to chug the rest of the alcohol.

Sakura sat in silence as he flagged down the waitress to order another round.

They sat there for a good minute, long enough for the eager waitress to return with his refreshment and clearing the used glasses. Two fingers and his thumb held the long neck of the bottle, resting it on the table before he finally spoke up.

"You are fucking annoying."

Before, when she got halfway through her story, he barely suppressed the urge to wipe his hand across his face in frustration.

He could instantly see where her mind was headed… could easily see how the tale was going to play out from her perspective. Combine that, with his sudden need to leave at the time… he could understand her side and how it all looked.

Still…

It didn't change the fact that she was annoying the shit out of him right now.

"I wasn't talking about you, about us, nor about what we did… when I said that."

She paled, and then… all at once, color blossomed in her cheeks. Why was she so quick to jump to conclusions sometimes?

Because that's the Haruno way.

Well… technically it was more the 'Ishikawa' way (her mother's maiden name, and definitely the correct side of the family to blame for such impulses).

Either way, it was in her blood to act foolishly, and definitely was something she was known for, in her early years. Well, she hadn't quite grown out of it, had she? It certainly was coming to bite her on the ass, in this situation.

"Oh…" She breathed, realization fully dawning on her.

He grasped the bottle and brought it to his lips again.

He wanted to spank her.

Sasuke didn't know where the wayward thought came from, but he couldn't help the overwhelming urge to drag her across his knee and swat her behind, at the incredulous response.

'Oh'? That's all she could say… was 'Oh'?

He drank his beer before he said something stupid.

All this time she had kept her distance because she thought he wasn't interested? He all but screamed (in his own way)… that he was interested, by reaching out… and she…

Finishing the beer, he stood… leaving a few bills on the table. There were some other things he had to take care of tonight, and should go. Even though he was reluctant, he needed to cut this meeting short.

Sakura looked up as he moved; missing the heat she felt when his leg was pressed against her own beneath the table.

Turning to leave he paused, looking at her over his shoulder. She could only freeze, swallowing thickly as she got caught up in his amorous stare.

"Haruno?"

"…Y-yes?"

"You make sure I'm not still… 'blocked', on your fucking phone, got it?"

A few minutes later, Ino found her… in the same spot. The poor pinkette looked as if she'd just seen a ghost or something, and despite the blondes prodding, she didn't say a word.

END CHAPTER

:✧･ ﾟ･*･ﾟ･✧ B R ✧･ﾟ･*･ﾟ ･✧:

Next: Chapter Four

[veliseraptor]

Your fic with Thor and the young Loki of "Thor 1" was fantastic *o* but how do you think that the Loki of "Avengers" would have reacted to the same broken Thor?

well I was just going to write a headcanon response to this only then I ended up writing 1.8k of a fic for it so uh...here’s that instead? v 2.0 of time traveling sad Thor, because...I guess that’s a thing I really want a lot of

the hairpin turn, thor & loki, infinity war spoilers

Loki paced the confines of his glass cage, waiting.

All was going according to plan, but nervous energy still buzzed through him. He could keep it controlled - keep it suppressed - but he couldn’t deny that it was there. Compelling him to go over and over the details, again and again. Thor was...a not entirely unexpected wrinkle. He wouldn’t create any problems Loki couldn’t deal with, not on his own. He might even be a help, considering his temper.

He heard the door open and turned, smoothing his face to a mask. He’d expected a visitor; the only question was who. And what tortures SHIELD’s Director would try on him.

The man standing in front of him was not an agent of SHIELD.

“Thor,” Loki said coolly. “I wasn’t expecting you to visit so soon. Are you here on your own behalf or on a mortal leash?”

Thor said nothing. He took a step forward, something strange in his expression. In his eyes. No-

For a moment, Loki thought that Thor’s eyes were mismatched. One blue, one brown. He drew back.

“Who are you,” he said.

“Your brother,” Thor said. Or the person wearing Thor’s skin. He did not know of any shapeshifters among the humans - Barton had said nothing. But this was not Thor. The voice only made him certain. The inflection was all wrong, and now that he was looking, so was the way he stood. There was none of the confidence, the arrogance.

“You are not,” Loki said. “In more than one sense. And whoever told you that this disguise would gain you anything-”

Thor - not-Thor - shook his head. “There isn’t time for this,” he said, and went over to the panel with the controls. Loki felt his eyes widen and jerked forward.

“What are you doing-”

“Getting you out of here,” not-Thor said. He muttered something under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and punched in a sequence.

The door slid open. Loki held still, waiting. Staring at it. His heart started racing.

Something very strange was going on. And this was...most assuredly not part of his plan.

On the other hand, the alarm had just started blaring.

Not-Thor was moving, though, grabbing Loki and dragging him out before he could jerk away. He opened the gates and dropped the cage through them while Loki’s head was still spinning, trying to figure out how he could salvage this - and what was going on. He could hear shouting.

“Hang on,” not-Thor said, and jumped.

Loki realized belatedly the other thing that the imposter had gotten wrong. He didn’t have Mjolnir. Which meant they were just plummeting toward the sea, and Loki really, truly had no idea if he could survive the impact.

**

He did. Though it wasn’t pleasant. He was fairly sure a couple of his ribs were cracked and he’d swallowed a large quantity of salt water that he was now heaving on the beach that not-Thor had dragged him to.

Ruined. His plans were ruined.

He coughed, spat, and shoved himself to his feet, turning around and drawing on the pitiful amount of magic he could access. “What do you think you’re doing?” He spat, slipping his sight sideways, but he couldn’t detect a trace of magic being used to disguise this - idiot.

“We need to talk,” said the stranger still wearing Thor’s face. Loki bared his teeth.

“You need to talk. I recommend you do it quickly. And unmask yourself. Having to look at the Odinson’s face is not helping my mood.”

Not-Thor dropped his head forward and sighed. “This would be easier if you hadn’t…but I suppose I should’ve known you’d notice something was off.” He reached up and seemed to - peel something off. Like he was wearing a second skin of some kind, only Loki could see as he did so that it wasn’t magic. Some kind of technology he wasn’t familiar with.

He was looking at a man with shorn hair and those mismatched eyes he’d barely glimpsed. There was a scar across the eyelid of the brown one; he hadn’t been born with it. But that was secondary to the more important matter. Namely the fact that he was looking at Thor.

Except that Loki had just seen Thor not two hours earlier, and he had looked just the same as he had the last Loki had seen him when he’d been flinging him off the edge of the Bifrost. It was more than the hair and the eyepatch, too: he’d noted the difference in voice, in posture, and now he could see it in his face.

Loki knew what it looked like when someone had been pushed to their breaking point and shattered. He’d seen it in the mirror. He would have thought he wanted to see it on Thor’s face, to see him suffer and know pain as keen as Loki had.

It just looked wrong.

He recoiled. Thor smiled wearily. “That bad?” He said, with wry, tired, humor, and a moment later shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, we need to talk.”

Loki took a step back. “What,” he hissed, his chest suddenly tight. “Do you think I possibly have to say to you? I am not-”

“We need to talk about Thanos,” Thor said, and all the air left Loki’s lungs.

“What?” He said, faintly. He had not uttered that name. He had never uttered that name, and never meant to. He tried to avoid thinking it. And Thor - this shattered version of him - staring at Loki with such desperate intensity--

“I know,” Thor said, and before Loki could step back he’d closed, grabbing Loki’s arms and staring him in the eye. “I know - I know that after you fell he found you. He twisted your memories and nurtured your hatreds and only asked one thing. The Tesseract - you know what it is, don’t you? Its other name?”

Loki’s breathing came unevenly. He tried to pull away, but Thor had grown stronger; his grip was immovable. “I don’t-”

“You know he’s using you,” Thor said, his eyes boring into Loki’s. “That as soon as he has what he wants he’ll-” His voice hitched, very slightly. “He’ll kill you.”

Loki let out a harsh bark of laughter. “And tell me, then,” he said, lip curling, “what does Thor in his wisdom think I should do? Throw myself on the mercy of that band of fools?”

“Yes,” Thor said, without hesitation. “You need to tell them - tell them about Thanos. Tell them that he is trying to assemble the Infinity Stones - that he wants to destroy half the life in the universe, and if he gains all of them he will.” His hands tightened painfully on Loki’s arms, and he was breathing hard. “You must. The scepter holds the Mind Stone.”

Loki’s eyes bugged. “It - what?” He should have known. He should have felt something of that magnitude-

He wasn’t meant to. Of course not. One of the Infinity Stones was power enough, but two - he didn’t need his old plan.

“Loki,” Thor said, fierce and urgent. No, desperate. He seemed to be reaching, grasping for words. “This isn’t - you. You’re more than this. Better.”

Loki’s inhale felt unsteady. He summoned a knife and stabbed it into Thor’s gut.

He let go, finally, and Loki stumbled back. “Better,” he said, and heard his own voice, high and wild. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, Odinson. I don’t know what your game is, but it ends now. Thank you for the valuable information about the Mind Stone.”

Thor pulled the knife out and dropped it, scarcely seeming to notice Loki had stabbed him. “I know it because I’ve seen it,” Thor said, his voice softer. Strange. “I’ve seen you step forward, when it came to it. I’ve seen you save Jane’s life. My life. I’ve seen you fight for Asgard in its darkest hour. I’ve seen you give up everything because--”

He stopped. His blue eye was too bright. Loki panted for air and felt himself begin to shake.

You will scream for something as sweet as pain.

He took a step back, and then another. The look on Thor’s face. Someone pushed to their breaking point and shattered. Someone who had seen everything stripped away until there was nothing left to lose.

Did you mourn?

His vision tunneled and he could hear the uneven sound of his own breathing, stuttering and irregular. Did it hurt, he wanted to ask. When I die. Does it hurt?

He blinked, and Thor was holding him up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Everyone.

Thanos would never let him go. Not with one Infinity Stone. Not even with two. Even if he won here, on Earth…

But he’d known that, hadn’t he? That one way or another he was going to lose. It just...hadn’t mattered.

“Let go of me,” he said, but there was no conviction in the words, and Thor didn’t release him. Holding onto him like he was afraid to let go.

“You understand,” He said, his voice fracturing briefly before it steadied. “This...this is where it started. We have to change everything. From here forward, or...or it ends the same.”

Loki shuddered. “Did he take your eye,” he asked, which was - a truly stupid question. Thor laughed, though it was weak, and humorless.

“No,” he said. “That was our sister.” Loki blinked, and Thor shook his head. “That - that doesn’t matter. Not now. What matters now is - the Avengers will be here soon.”

“The Avengers?” Loki said blankly. Thor waved a hand.

“It’s - that doesn’t matter either. When they get here you need to tell them - everything. And everything I told you.”

Change or die. No, that wasn’t it. Change or everyone dies. And leaves Thor like this. Like you.

As it had in the vault, when everything had fallen into place when his skin changed, Loki had the same moment of absolute clarity. So rare, in his constantly turning thoughts.

I don’t want this. I don’t want this to happen to him.

This is no victory.

“Do you really think they’ll listen to me? Now?” His voice sounded small. Weak. Scared. Thor exhaled in naked relief and hugged him, holding Loki tight against his chest and how had he forgotten how good that could feel?

“They will. They have to.” Thor sounded like he was desperate to believe that. “Others...others will help. But they - we need you. And I…”

He made a small noise. “There are so many things I would change, if I could. Things I wish I had done, or hadn’t done. But this is the only…” He drew back, clasped Loki’s neck with both hands and pressed their foreheads together, and Loki was too stunned to pull away. “I love you, Loki. That, always.”

“Thor,” Loki said, hardly knowing what he meant to say, but Thor was gone.

He could hear the sound of Iron Man’s repulsors approaching.

Well, Loki thought, it was a good thing he’d always been persuasive.

[thefallenlilith]

TURNING TO THE MOON (3/?)

Kamilah x MC (Millie)

Part 1 Part 2

....

When it came to most aspects of her life, Kamilah had, up until very recently, trusted only one person over the last century. However, occasionally there were some delicate situations where Adrian wasn't enough. For those, she confided in Lydia Montague-Smythe; a robust woman who Kamilah had turned herself in 1887, and was one of the first members of Clan Sayeed.

Lydia had been a prolific theatrical performer while she was mortal, and didn't think there was any point  in changing that now she was a vampire. She was also the only vampire in New York, possibly even the country, who had the respect of the local coven. And that was what Kamilah needed right now.

She dialed the number, and it was answered almost immediately by a strong, melodic baritone voice.

"Kamilah, darling, you couldn't possibly wait a few hours to speak to little ol' me? I am flattered!"

"This is not a social call, Lydia."

"Oh dear. This sounds dire! Who is it you wish me to dispose of? It'll be done lickity-split."

"Nobody." Kamilah smiled at this woman's unwavering loyalty. "I need you to arrange a meeting with your bruja."

"My stars and garters! What could you possibly need from her?" She lowered her voice into what she probably thought was a whisper. "Does it have anything to do with that delicious little thing you've had on your arm these last few weeks?"

"Millie."

"Goodness! You're even using the mortal's name? It must be serious."

"It seems like it."

"You must dish the dirt. I need every detail! Anyone who can turn your head must be special."

"Lydia, you're avoiding."

There was a long exasperated groan on the other end of the line. "Esme is not one to be trifled with My Queen, I'm not sure if she would be willing to take a meeting with the most powerful vampire in the city."

"I'm aware that it's a lot to ask, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important. If it helps, tell her I will owe her a boon."

There was an audible gasp. "Think this through Kamilah, I beg you. That is too much power for her to hold over you."

"Your concern has been noted. Now, will you contact her or not?"

"Yes." Lydia sighed. "It'll most likely take several days. She tends to ruminate."

"That's fine." It would have to be.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about? It might help to persuade her."

"Is that so? It isn't because you love to gossip?"

"Well, I prefer to think of myself as well informed!" She sounded dramatically indignant.

Kamilah chuckled. "I'm sure you do. In this case however, you shall have to wildly speculate."

"Very well darling. I meant what I said; I need all the details of this Millie creature."

"She'll be accompanying me tonight, if you're so curious. I think the two of you might get along."

"Oh goody! I adore new friends!"

"I know you do. But Lydia, she is mine." There was only the merest hint of a threat.

"Understood! Does she enjoy the theater?" Lydia didn't care who you were, or where you were from; she only cared if you enjoyed the arts, and if you were interesting.

"This would be a conversation for her. I have never asked her."

"Why must you make me suffer so? Anyhoo, I shall see you in a few hours. Toodle-pip."

Kamilah placed her phone down onto the counter-top gently, and covered it with her hands.

Owing a favour to a witch was risky. But those were consequences she would deal with when the time came.

For now, she had a party to get to.

Just as she was about to head to her bedroom to change, she realised that there was music coming from the other room, that became louder as Millie came dancing out towards her.

Her auburn mane was partially tamed; it appeared Esteban had made quite a bit of progress in a short amount of time.

"Hey!" Millie bit her lip as she smiled at her. "You'll be pleased to know Esteban and I have bonded. Mostly over Abba."

"The Swedish music group?"

"Way to boil it down; and yes, them." She shimmied close to Kamilah, and placed a lingering kiss that made the vampire twitch.

"What was that for?" Kamilah chuckled.

"Do I need a reason? Other than I want to?"

"No. That seems perfectly reasonable."

"Yes. It does, doesn't it." Millie leaned in again, pressing Kamilah against the counter and kissed her jaw, then worked her way down to her neck and then her collarbone.

Kamilah gripped the marble surface, fighting the need to bury her fingers in Millie's hair, and pull her closer. "Perhaps we should postpone this. We have company." She said through a moan, and her girlfriend pulled away looking flushed.

"Probably for the best." Millie nodded, and stared at Kamilah's lips for several seconds before she shook her head and walked towards the small wine rack, picking a bottle out at random, and holding it up. "Something to do while Esteban does his magic."

Once Millie was back in the other room, Kamilah relaxed slightly. There were times when having heightened senses were more of a hindrance than a help; especially when every part of her could feel the sensation of Millie's arousal.

She straightened her back, then quickly made her way to her bedroom.

----

After an hour of getting ready, she gave herself a cursory glance in the mirror to make sure nothing was out of place and then went to see Millie's progress. If wine and dancing were involved, she wasn't sure if any progress had been made at all. She was only half surprised that her girlfriend was still in her street clothes, and the only things that seemed to have been accomplished, was her hair and a dance routine that they were currently performing.

"Have you not decided which dress you'll be wearing?" She asked as she entered the room.

Three sets of heads turned in her direction. Millie was the only one to continue dancing.

"Nope. They're all super nice." Her girlfriend studied the black dress she wore, then looked at the four dresses that were hanging up around the room.

"Okay you two." Millie pointed to the kitchen. "I need to talk to Kamilah."

They both scampered out, and Kamilah closed the door behind them.

"You are a bad influence on my employees."

"Nonsense!" Millie twirled towards her, and rested her hands on Kamilah's chest. "Dance, is only ever good."

"I supposed it depends on the circumstance. Now, could you please choose a gown to wear."

"The green one."

Kamilah rolled her eyes. "If you knew which one you were going to wear, why aren't you wearing it?"

"Dancing Queen took precedence!"

"I understood those words individually."

"I am going to open up a whole new world for you." Millie grinned, and went to take her dress from the closet door.

"You already have." Kamilah muttered.

"So, is there anyone I need to avoid tonight?" Millie asked as she removed her clothes.

"Unless you already know them, or I introduce you to them, just assume they are to be avoided." Kamilah answered, her eyes never leaving the exposed flesh.

She was going to be on high alert tonight; every vampire within a quarter mile radius was going to be sniffing around Millie like a tom cat on the prowl. She still hadn't figured out what it was that drew her kind to Millie, but she was at least grateful that she was the one chosen. Even if she had been resistant to the awkward flirting at first.

"And how are you going to introduce me?" Millie cocked a brow at her.

"With your name."

"Not your lover, or girlfriend?"

"No."

She saw the hurt on Millie's face, and then realization. "Because I'm seen as a weakness for you."

"No." Kamilah crossed the floor to take her girlfriend in her arms. "Well, yes; but not in the way that you're thinking. I don't care if anyone believes that what I feel for you is a weakness, I don't want you to be hurt. There are many vampires, and other beings, that would hurt you, or worse, just to watch me burn the world."

Millie looked at her with sad eyes, and a half smile. "You'd burn the world for me?"

"That's what you took away from that?"

"That was the most important part!"

"How?"

"Because you lurve me. And you keep denying it, but it's clearly true."

Kamilah blew out a breath and stepped out of the embrace. "Just get ready."

"Fine." Millie slipped on the dress and stood in front of Kamilah so she could fasten the back. "This is a really fancy frock, it's got to be worth, like, twenty five diamonds."

"That's an odd choice of currency. But, the only way it would be worth twenty five diamonds, would be if twenty four diamonds were sewn on."

"Holy shit! It's worth a diamond? What if I spill salsa on it or something?"

"I doubt there will be 'salsa' at this gathering."

"Will there be any human food? Wait! Let me rephrase that; will there be food meant to be consumed by humans at this party?"

"Of course. Just not 'salsa'."

"Riiight. Do I need to bring a bib?"

"Millie, relax. It's just a dress."

"Says the billionaire.”

Kamilah sighed. Perhaps bringing Millie as her date was not the best idea. "Would you prefer to stay here? Or --"

"No!" Millie blurted before she could finish. "I have to be there."

"Have to?" She frowned, but before she could get a reply, she heard her phone ring from the kitchen. "That'll probably be Adrian." She said, and reluctantly left her girlfriend to answer it.

"Are you on your way?" He asked instead of a greeting.

"We'll be leaving shortly." Kamilah replied as she waved Esteban and Samantha back into the room with Millie, and stepped into her study.

"Good. Lily and Jax are already at the office. I think our newest clan leader is a little nervous." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"He should be. Have you told him to behave tonight?"

"As if he ever listens to me. Maybe you should ask Millie to tell him."

"I don't like using her for council business. We have three thousand years experience between the five of us. We shouldn't need her, to keep a pup on a leash."

"Feeling protective are we?"

"Is this what it's like to have feelings in the twenty first century? I get mocked by the people I care about?"

"I think teasing friends about their love life has spanned over many ages."

"I don't like it. I'm hanging up now." And she ended the call with a huff.

Millie was waiting for her with a tender smile as she left the study. "I sent Esteban and Samantha home. Or, at least, away from here. You look beautiful tonight by the way. That dress is very... flattering."

Kamilah chuckled. "Are you staring at my breasts?"

"They started it!" Millie gestured at her cleavage. "That neckline plunges all the way."

"Well, we don't have time for your ogling right now. Adrian is waiting for us."

"Booooo."

Kamilah smirked and held out her arm for Millie to take. "If you must, you can utilize the car journey for your ogling. And if you're lucky, there'll be a traffic delay."

"I like that plan. Prepared to be objectified!"

Kamilah shook her head and dragged Millie to the elevator, thinking she might tell her driver to take the long way to Raines Corporation.

[hurl-a-can]

💭 For Darrian, if you don't mind :)

Lennan being Lennan, hewas always worried about what kind of role model he'd be for Darrian.He was anxious to set the best example – and, as he was well aware,he'd at times come across as too serious, too proper and perhaps toounapproachable.It wasn't that he didn't get Darrian.On the contrary. Both Tabris's boys were very much Adaia's sons.Except Lennan had a better control over his impulses and was perhapsmore willing to follow his father's example, especially whenconflicts arose.He knew too damn well what was going on in hislittle brother's head. He knew  how badly ambition stings when you'reconfined within the walls of a sodding alienage, how bitter is thetaste of anger in one's mouth – the taste of a 'yes, sir, by allmeans sir, this was surely a misunderstanding, sir' when all you wantto do is to kick the sir's teeth in... He'd felt it all and he neverstopped feeling it. And he also knew possible consequences of givingin to one's resentment and anger, a lesson he learned the hard way.

He felt during theiryounger years – and it fucking hurt, it hurt real bad – thatDarrian had little respect for him. Lennan was the sort to stepforward and get kicked or let an entitled idiot vent at him...so thatsomeone else (or the whole alienage, in some cases) got off the hook,could breathe a sigh of relief and go on living their life for another day. Lennan had animpressive arsenal of polite smiles and phrases, the kind he'd use todeflect conflict and blunt the edges of other people's anger.AndDarrian was nothing like that. Darrian found no honour in keeping one's head down. He must have been keenly aware of all the rumours and the gossip, people branding his older brother – the one he was supposedto look up to – as a bootlicker and a coward.Sometimes Lennwould look at him and see shame and contempt in his eyes –especially in those months and years after Adaia died. Those were themoments when he was closest to just...snapping and breaking the neckof the first bloody shem that gave him a nasty look......and thenhe realized the first people to suffer should he do that would beCyrion and Darrian and he put all that fury on an even shorter leash.

Darrian understood,eventually – as he grew older. They got a lot closer as a result –something Lennan drew a lot of comfort and strength from.

Lennan was alwaysprotective of Darrian. When they were still kids, he'd be quite openabout it – but as they got older he got pretty careful not toundermine Darrian's confidence or self-esteem by beingover-protective.He'd always watch though. And worry.

After the raid on theArl's palace and killing Vaughn, of course Lenn stepped  forward andtook the blame because that was what he always did. His heart prettymuch broke when he heard his brother's voice behind him: 'Wait waitwait, big brother, I very distinctly remember being there with you,you're not taking all the credit!'He wasn't sure whether to hugthe idiot or to punch him. he would have gladly hanged if it meant his loved ones lived. But his brother suffering all of it with him? He wasn’t ready for that.

When Duncan told him todrink before Darrian, he refused. Not that he could have done a thingabout the result, but he NEEDED to know, to see. Even if being awakethrough his little brother's Joining meant nothing more than beingable to pray to the Maker till the last moment – or beingthere to hold Darrian if things didn't go well.His relief when it becameclear that Darrian would pull through was so tangible it made Duncanlaugh. Maybe because it was so uncommon for Lennan to be such an openbook where emotions were concerned.

He was so happy to seeDarrian come into his own and find his purpose and even happier toobserve his budding romance with Leliana. Darrian seemed in hiselement and happy and Lennan swore to himself every day he'd doeverything to protect that.

They'd have disagreements,sometimes. Usually over Lennan being 'too bloody soft'... But theynever really argued. 

Not until that last evening at Redcliffe,before the allied armies marched out.Refusing Morrigan's offerwas the hardest decision Lennan had to make. When Darrian yelled athim at the top of his lungs to 'not be a fucking suicidal idiot anddo that bloody ritual', it almost made him change his mind.Almost.But he felt too strongly about this and everything aboutthe offer and the ritual felt wrong.That he was sacrificing one of the Wardensfor it made him feel miserable enough. That his own brother was amongthose whose lives he risked made it kind of an imperative to him to beat everybody else toit and get to the archdemon first. No way was he losing his brotherto the Blight, not if he could help it.

[psychotherapyconsultants]

Why Men Give Up Their Identity in a Relationship

Over the past 30 years of working as a psychologist with men doing individual and group therapy, I have often seen men struggling to maintain either the romance or friendship or both in their intimate relationships. It’s a subject I’ve been investigating and exploring for much of my professional and personal life. I’ve often noticed my men clients complaining about their relationships in a way that is troubling. Why is my wife so controlling? I feel like I never do things right by her, and she always finds something to criticize; is there such a thing as the-glass-is-always-half-empty syndrome?  It feels like she doesn’t appreciate me. She controls what restaurants we go to and where we go on vacation. Why doesn’t she value my input on how to raise our kids? I don’t know why I have to send the kids to private school; it puts so much pressure on us financially. I didn’t want to travel for one of my two-week’s vacation with my wife’s parents. I don’t know how to make her happy.  

When these same men come into therapy as a couple, 85 percent of the time, they will turn to their partner and ask, “What did you want to talk about?”  Even though there is usually something bugging or troubling them, they’re reluctant to talk about it. They choose not to mention a recent conflict or an objectionable quality about their partner, and instead, they take to the sidelines, either denying it or avoiding it, faultily thinking it will go away. They have such fear of confrontation, anything but that!  

Despite the progress being made dispelling myths and eliminating stereotypical gender roles, much of society still perpetuates the idea that women are in charge of the child-rearing and dealing with any relationship problems that come up at home and in the therapy office. We see this dynamic played out in movies, sitcoms, TV commercials, and even t-shirts reading “My only boss is my wife.” Many married, heterosexual men feed into this idea by joking about their “old ball and chain” or being kept “on a leash,” or “happy wife, happy life.”  This is not only a distorted and unfair characterization of men and women but a kind or rigid relationship role-playing whose paradigm was supposed to have gone out of style back in the 60’s. 

Good relationships these days are more about equality. They involve give and take, strength and vulnerability, independence and closeness. However, both men and women sacrifice a lot when they give up too much of themselves for “the sake of the relationship.” When either partner forgoes their individuality, the relationship itself loses steam. This lack of vitality in a marriage is what inspires many couples to seek therapy.

While a lot of men complain about deferring to the women in their lives, they don’t always recognize the ways they’re drawn to, seeking out, or contributing to this dynamic. Some men find it more comfortable to feel directed or taken care of by their partner. They ask, “Where do you want to go on vacation? Eat? See a movie? etc.” They don’t realize it, but they’re actually actively giving up a part of themselves that is vital, independent, and attractive to their partner.

Writer, poet Robert Bly, offered insight into this phenomenon. He observed from his work with men that many boys growing up are more sensitive and able to care about their partner’s feelings and health. They are better at sharing in domestic responsibilities such as childcare and household chores. They may be more emotionally attentive to others, and yet, they’re not always in tune with their own life energy, the life-giving, wild side of themselves (not to be confused with the savage side of man). He explores this very cleverly in his book Iron John.  They may lose touch with their unique initiative, ideas, and passion, and ironically, these are often the traits that drew their partner to them in the first place.

David Finch, captures this best in his book titled How to be a better husband: One Man’s Journal of Best Practices.  A few years after publishing the book, Finch told the following story, while speaking at a conference.  He described how he was just about to take off for a speaking gig and while saying goodbye to his wife, she told him that the marriage was over.  Finch was stunned (and thinking at the time, wasn’t I the guy who had a bestseller on being a great husband?), but he couldn’t address the shock and discouragement he felt at the time. Although he was freaked out, he had to leave on his work trip .Here he was, a guy who really thought he had figured out how to make his wife happy, who believed he was in the “happy wife, happy life” phase of his life, and now he had to face that his marriage was over.  While he was away, he felt pretty bad and obsessed about what had gone wrong in his marriage. 

Finch returned home feeling really deflated. As soon as it was possible, he spoke with his wife. She explained that what she really meant was that their marriage, as it had been, was over, and that she wanted a different kind of marriage.  He was greatly relieved to realize that it was their relationship dynamic that, in his wife’s view, had to change, and the marriage was still alive, even if it was on “life support.” He found out that his wife wanted their relationship to be very different than it had been.  She told him that she found him far too focused on fulfilling her desires and needs and, in the course of doing that, had forgotten aspects of his own identity. She found their marriage had become routine and predictable. It seemed that the more Finch focused on pleasing her, the more she lost touch with her attraction and interest in him. Where was he, the person?  She missed the collaboration, energy, and unpredictability, agreeing and disagreeing, but having two points of view, not having her point of view always trump his. She wanted what mattered to each of them individually, the things they were really passionate about, to go on mattering, and she believed that the dynamic recipe was made up of sharing life and being strong and feeling individuals.  This was the vitality or wildness that was missing for her, the adventure of two people finding their way down and through the stream of life.

Because Finch is such a revealing and entertaining speaker, he was able to present his marital struggles in a humorous light. But what he captures in his personal story is the importance of being alive and true to yourself as well as to another.  The goal for any two people in a relationship, regardless of gender, is to be equal and adult. To be life-generating, involves knowing yourself, your passions, your wants, your feelings, including what you like and dislike. It doesn’t mean being selfish, rigid, or controlling, but it does mean, sometimes saying no and standing your ground. It’s possible to be vulnerable and available without giving up important parts of who you are, and this is the ultimate struggle for any two people who choose to intimately share their lives.

For many people, this disconnect from themselves comes from lessons learned in early childhood. For example, a good number of men I’ve worked with grew up without a father with whom they could identify. Their mother may have been more accessible or felt more emotionally safe. These boys developed a stronger identification and connection with their mothers than with their fathers. In some cases, their mother taught them how to respond and take care of her or the family’s needs. Some of these men described this relationship as giving them more confidence; even feeling they had an advantage over other men, in terms of being able to be more sensitive and attuned to a future girlfriend. 

Of course, any mother-son or parent-child relationship will influence a person’s budding sense of identity and future relationships. One study found that a healthy relationship between a mother and son directly affects his sense of morality and ability to have healthy romantic relationships as an adult. However, if that relationship is more strained or the mother has a more critical view of her son or men in general, the son often internalizes these attitudes toward himself. In addition, if he had a father who seemed weak-willed, emotionally vacant/distant, or too critical and punishing, or if he had no father figure at all, he may struggle with his own identity and the concept or expectations surrounding masculinity.  

  While I’m not personally advocating or even identifying certain characteristics as “masculine” or “feminine,” most people are being raised or have been raised in homes with limiting, even hurtful attitudes or expectations surrounding their gender.  The distorted views of masculinity that some of the men I’ve worked with were exposed to as young boys left them feeling suspicious of the masculine. Some described adopting their mother’s fear or distrust of men or taking on the guilt of their father’s absence. Many described feeling either guilty or ashamed of their maleness, or on the flip side, thinking they had to constantly prove themselves and become workaholic providers.  As a result, they grew up struggling with their personal identity as a man.  

As adults, most of these men possess important traits of sensitivity and attunement to others, but they lack gumption when it comes to expressing themselves. They’re hesitant or unwilling to be bold or take initiative. They may date people who are more controlling or seek direction from their partner or spouse, even when she or he isn’t trying to take the reins. These men often struggle with connecting to their own convictions or their anger, and they find it especially challenging to express their point of view directly.

The work in therapy, for these men ,has been for them to find their way in their relationships. They have to identify ways they may put themselves down or keep themselves “in their place.” They should explore any negative or distorted associations they have around the concept of “masculinity.” They need to determine for themselves what it means to be who they really are — to feel strong and self-possessed, sensitive and attuned — both toward themselves and toward those close to them.

For me, it was a combination of men’s groups, therapy, male mentors, and my male friendships that helped me come to feel more comfortable and confident as a man. It is from this place that one can experience all that that embodies: being able to access one’s natural wildness, openness to adventure, the capacity for serious focus, the ability to recognize and express the full range of feelings, sensitivity to others, knowing and expressing one’s wants, and saying “no” when one feels like it.

  from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2017/06/14/why-men-give-up-their-identity-in-a-relationship/

[erraticfairy]

Why Men Give Up Their Identity in a Relationship

Over the past 30 years of working as a psychologist with men doing individual and group therapy, I have often seen men struggling to maintain either the romance or friendship or both in their intimate relationships. It’s a subject I’ve been investigating and exploring for much of my professional and personal life. I’ve often noticed my men clients complaining about their relationships in a way that is troubling. Why is my wife so controlling? I feel like I never do things right by her, and she always finds something to criticize; is there such a thing as the-glass-is-always-half-empty syndrome?  It feels like she doesn’t appreciate me. She controls what restaurants we go to and where we go on vacation. Why doesn’t she value my input on how to raise our kids? I don’t know why I have to send the kids to private school; it puts so much pressure on us financially. I didn’t want to travel for one of my two-week’s vacation with my wife’s parents. I don’t know how to make her happy.  

When these same men come into therapy as a couple, 85 percent of the time, they will turn to their partner and ask, “What did you want to talk about?”  Even though there is usually something bugging or troubling them, they’re reluctant to talk about it. They choose not to mention a recent conflict or an objectionable quality about their partner, and instead, they take to the sidelines, either denying it or avoiding it, faultily thinking it will go away. They have such fear of confrontation, anything but that!  

Despite the progress being made dispelling myths and eliminating stereotypical gender roles, much of society still perpetuates the idea that women are in charge of the child-rearing and dealing with any relationship problems that come up at home and in the therapy office. We see this dynamic played out in movies, sitcoms, TV commercials, and even t-shirts reading “My only boss is my wife.” Many married, heterosexual men feed into this idea by joking about their “old ball and chain” or being kept “on a leash,” or “happy wife, happy life.”  This is not only a distorted and unfair characterization of men and women but a kind or rigid relationship role-playing whose paradigm was supposed to have gone out of style back in the 60’s. 

Good relationships these days are more about equality. They involve give and take, strength and vulnerability, independence and closeness. However, both men and women sacrifice a lot when they give up too much of themselves for “the sake of the relationship.” When either partner forgoes their individuality, the relationship itself loses steam. This lack of vitality in a marriage is what inspires many couples to seek therapy.

While a lot of men complain about deferring to the women in their lives, they don’t always recognize the ways they’re drawn to, seeking out, or contributing to this dynamic. Some men find it more comfortable to feel directed or taken care of by their partner. They ask, “Where do you want to go on vacation? Eat? See a movie? etc.” They don’t realize it, but they’re actually actively giving up a part of themselves that is vital, independent, and attractive to their partner.

Writer, poet Robert Bly, offered insight into this phenomenon. He observed from his work with men that many boys growing up are more sensitive and able to care about their partner’s feelings and health. They are better at sharing in domestic responsibilities such as childcare and household chores. They may be more emotionally attentive to others, and yet, they’re not always in tune with their own life energy, the life-giving, wild side of themselves (not to be confused with the savage side of man). He explores this very cleverly in his book Iron John.  They may lose touch with their unique initiative, ideas, and passion, and ironically, these are often the traits that drew their partner to them in the first place.

David Finch, captures this best in his book titled How to be a better husband: One Man’s Journal of Best Practices.  A few years after publishing the book, Finch told the following story, while speaking at a conference.  He described how he was just about to take off for a speaking gig and while saying goodbye to his wife, she told him that the marriage was over.  Finch was stunned (and thinking at the time, wasn’t I the guy who had a bestseller on being a great husband?), but he couldn’t address the shock and discouragement he felt at the time. Although he was freaked out, he had to leave on his work trip .Here he was, a guy who really thought he had figured out how to make his wife happy, who believed he was in the “happy wife, happy life” phase of his life, and now he had to face that his marriage was over.  While he was away, he felt pretty bad and obsessed about what had gone wrong in his marriage. 

Finch returned home feeling really deflated. As soon as it was possible, he spoke with his wife. She explained that what she really meant was that their marriage, as it had been, was over, and that she wanted a different kind of marriage.  He was greatly relieved to realize that it was their relationship dynamic that, in his wife’s view, had to change, and the marriage was still alive, even if it was on “life support.” He found out that his wife wanted their relationship to be very different than it had been.  She told him that she found him far too focused on fulfilling her desires and needs and, in the course of doing that, had forgotten aspects of his own identity. She found their marriage had become routine and predictable. It seemed that the more Finch focused on pleasing her, the more she lost touch with her attraction and interest in him. Where was he, the person?  She missed the collaboration, energy, and unpredictability, agreeing and disagreeing, but having two points of view, not having her point of view always trump his. She wanted what mattered to each of them individually, the things they were really passionate about, to go on mattering, and she believed that the dynamic recipe was made up of sharing life and being strong and feeling individuals.  This was the vitality or wildness that was missing for her, the adventure of two people finding their way down and through the stream of life.

Because Finch is such a revealing and entertaining speaker, he was able to present his marital struggles in a humorous light. But what he captures in his personal story is the importance of being alive and true to yourself as well as to another.  The goal for any two people in a relationship, regardless of gender, is to be equal and adult. To be life-generating, involves knowing yourself, your passions, your wants, your feelings, including what you like and dislike. It doesn’t mean being selfish, rigid, or controlling, but it does mean, sometimes saying no and standing your ground. It’s possible to be vulnerable and available without giving up important parts of who you are, and this is the ultimate struggle for any two people who choose to intimately share their lives.

For many people, this disconnect from themselves comes from lessons learned in early childhood. For example, a good number of men I’ve worked with grew up without a father with whom they could identify. Their mother may have been more accessible or felt more emotionally safe. These boys developed a stronger identification and connection with their mothers than with their fathers. In some cases, their mother taught them how to respond and take care of her or the family’s needs. Some of these men described this relationship as giving them more confidence; even feeling they had an advantage over other men, in terms of being able to be more sensitive and attuned to a future girlfriend. 

Of course, any mother-son or parent-child relationship will influence a person’s budding sense of identity and future relationships. One study found that a healthy relationship between a mother and son directly affects his sense of morality and ability to have healthy romantic relationships as an adult. However, if that relationship is more strained or the mother has a more critical view of her son or men in general, the son often internalizes these attitudes toward himself. In addition, if he had a father who seemed weak-willed, emotionally vacant/distant, or too critical and punishing, or if he had no father figure at all, he may struggle with his own identity and the concept or expectations surrounding masculinity.  

  While I’m not personally advocating or even identifying certain characteristics as “masculine” or “feminine,” most people are being raised or have been raised in homes with limiting, even hurtful attitudes or expectations surrounding their gender.  The distorted views of masculinity that some of the men I’ve worked with were exposed to as young boys left them feeling suspicious of the masculine. Some described adopting their mother’s fear or distrust of men or taking on the guilt of their father’s absence. Many described feeling either guilty or ashamed of their maleness, or on the flip side, thinking they had to constantly prove themselves and become workaholic providers.  As a result, they grew up struggling with their personal identity as a man.  

As adults, most of these men possess important traits of sensitivity and attunement to others, but they lack gumption when it comes to expressing themselves. They’re hesitant or unwilling to be bold or take initiative. They may date people who are more controlling or seek direction from their partner or spouse, even when she or he isn’t trying to take the reins. These men often struggle with connecting to their own convictions or their anger, and they find it especially challenging to express their point of view directly.

The work in therapy, for these men ,has been for them to find their way in their relationships. They have to identify ways they may put themselves down or keep themselves “in their place.” They should explore any negative or distorted associations they have around the concept of “masculinity.” They need to determine for themselves what it means to be who they really are — to feel strong and self-possessed, sensitive and attuned — both toward themselves and toward those close to them.

For me, it was a combination of men’s groups, therapy, male mentors, and my male friendships that helped me come to feel more comfortable and confident as a man. It is from this place that one can experience all that that embodies: being able to access one’s natural wildness, openness to adventure, the capacity for serious focus, the ability to recognize and express the full range of feelings, sensitivity to others, knowing and expressing one’s wants, and saying “no” when one feels like it.

  from World of Psychology http://ift.tt/2t2v8Te via theshiningmind.com