#i want someone i trust so much i’ll follow them towards their goals i don’t know about

[happyfanofeverything]

about orv. i feel most like yjh in that i want someone like kdj in my life. but looking back on my history of relationships i act like kdj the most, rather than like yjh. but no one will ever pursue caring for me like yjh to kdj. yeah

[i-starcreamed]

Beggingggg for a Megatron (Transformers One) x kind male reader who looked up to him not as a friend but as a small crush. Megatron saw jt at first when he was D-16 and didn’t think much until when he declared to kill their leader (did not like him that I forgot his name) and tries to take advantage of the readers fondness towards him to make him join his side. The reader knows it’s wrong and declines which turns into a small argument about why the reader should join them..

THINKS OF SOME TOXIC TANGO OF LOVE AND LOYALTY WHERE ONE ISNT SURE—

MEGATRON X READER

Basically megop but with Y/N. You two are divorced YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE!! Also I don’t mention pronouns that often in my work but I’m tagging this as male reader :3

[cybertronian! male reader Angst AGAIN 😭 not that much though, you guys just argue a lil]

As D-16, he hadn’t thought much of your crush. He knew you as the mech who treated everyone with kindness, a trait he silently admired. You were almost an even softer version of Orion, gentle to a fault sometimes.

You were with them when you went to find the Primes, there, you uncovered the truth as they did. You watched as D-16's expression fell with every detail revealed about Sentinel and..everything he did.

Gesturing for him to follow you, you pulled him aside. He did so without hesitation—he knew you had no ill intent. Maybe his entire life had been a lie, but at least you were still there. As genuine as ever.

"I can’t believe…” he muttered, his voice strained. His optics moved across the ground, he had to blink rapidly to snap himself out of whatever thoughts he was having. You quickly placed a comforting servo on his shoulder, grounding him before he could spiral.

“D, look at me. I can’t believe it either,” you whispered, locking optics with him.

“We’re going to stop him…okay? I’m here with you.” You murmured. Was it a confession? Maybe so.

Your words hung in the air, heavy with hesitation. “I’ll follow you anywhere. We’ll get through this..together.”

D eyed you, his own voice faltering for a second.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” He exvented, his optics again panning towards the ground as he let you comfort him. Despite the small flutter in his spark, the sudden goal to make Sentinel pay overrode any other emotion. He will pay.

When D-16 spiraled into Megatron, you were the first he sought out. His eyes were not the vibrant golden they used to be. You questioned him, to which he eagerly—almost desperately, held onto your shoulders in response.

“Y/N…listen to me. Do you trust me?”

“..I do trust you.”

“Then join me, come with me. I know how I’m going to make Sentinel pay for his lies. Unlike Orion's plan, I will make sure it gets done.”

You slightly shook your helm, “But D.. you two should be working together. Not split apart. I don’t want you doing anything uh.. extreme.”

His optics turned cold, narrowing in anger. “Extreme? You call my ideas extreme? Sentinel was the one that has been keeping us as slaves,” He hissed, inching towards you. “For years, for years, I thought we were doing the right thing. But no, everything was a lie. You, Y/N—you have to understand”

You watched in horror as Megatron killed Sentinel. He should have been satisfied now, but he wasn't. He called upon an army. Freedom fighters, but now they fought for a cause that no longer needed fighting. From his elevated position on the structure above, you locked optics.

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, as he took in the fear in your expression. Once, you looked up to him as someone you admired. Hell, you thought you loved him. Deep down, a part of you still did.

He’s still D-16, maybe. He must be, right?

You realized maybe you did have different ideals, different goals. To you, it should have ended when Sentinel was exposed. Then you had no option, perhaps after his death? You all would have rebuilt Cybertron together. Maybe even properly confess to D. Things just didn't go as planned in many ways.

But now, you could only watch as he descended the stairs toward you, his steps slow and deliberate.

You flinched, feeling his servo against the side of your helm. He stopped a couple inches away from you, leaning down, his voice a low hiss,

“Do you see it now, Y/N? That…I did that for you. For us.” His fingers traced the ridges of your helm, a caress that made your spark stutter in confusion. He was never, ever, this bold as D-16.

“I want you to join me. We can do this together.”

You hesitated, still trying to process how affectionate he was being with you. As much as you've dreamt of this, there was something off about it. D-16 was always soft, and casual about his demeanor. This Megatron was intense, his red optics burning into yours.

“Megs…I can’t.” You murmured. This was wrong. Very very wrong.

Megatron raised a brow, “You cannot?”

His servo shifted, cupping your chin and tilting your helm upward to meet his gaze. “Tell me something, Y/N. Are you a liar too?”

You furrowed your brow, “What? No, no, I haven’t lied to yo—“

“You said you’d follow me anywhere," He interrupted, "I need you to do that now.” He said in a softer tone, but you heard the hint of menace in his voice. It was an order, not a plead.

You took a deep intake, slowly stepping back from his grasp—his servo hung in the air for a moment before falling to his side.

“I don’t want to kill anyone, Megatron. I’m sorry, I can’t do this with you.” You said firmly, your voice steady. You had made up your mind.

His teeth clenched, frustration flaring in his optics as he stepped closer again, closing the distance between you two.

“Where is loyalty when you need it the most!? Where is it?! Tell me!” He exclaimed, his outburst making you take another step back.

Your optics flickered back to where Orion and your friends should be, then back at Megatron. “I want to be with you, Megs, I do. But this fight.. it’s over. Sentinel is dead.”

You stepped forward despite your frantic sparkbeat, your servos grasped onto his which were balled into fists.

“Come with me. We can help build Cybertron together, all of us. I need you to trust me.” You urged softly.

For a moment, you thought you had reached him. His optics softened, and his fists slowly unclenched, his gaze drifting to where your servos held his.

“I don’t want to rebuild Cybertron,”

He slowly scowled, his servos tightened around yours.

“I want to fix it.”

He turned away, leaving you standing in the dust and debris. You coughed, the air thick with smoke, watching him disappear into the distance with Primus knows how many High Guard fliers behind him.

You begin to wonder if you made the right choice. You wanted your D-16 back, but you couldn't bear the death and destruction that came along with Megatron.

As doubt crept in, you realized one terrible truth.

He had already won you over.

[artzychic27]

So, with the new special coming up with Shadybug and Claw Noir, I’ve gotta ask, what are Scarlet Beetle, Ikati Black, Monarch, and Prince Paon’s alternate selves like?

Blood Beetle

Cold, calculated, greedy, and just a little bit flirty with his “Kitten.”

He works out so he’s stronger than his opponents and can easily snap them like twigs

This guy does NOT care about the lives of innocents, as long as he’s got the cash and jewels he stole, then he’s fine

Will not hesitate to put people in danger if it means getting his way, and makes people BEG him on their knees to use his Miracle Cure…

… Only to not use it

And quick thing to remember: Unless you have a death wish, never try to flirt with Ikati Bleak

When he’s not Blood Beetle, Kim is tormenting people at DuPont Dormitory For Wayward Teens for cash and breaking every PDA rule with Max

He was sent to DuPont for attacking just about anyone who looked at him funny

“Kitten~ Steal that gem for me, would you, baby?”

“Ugh! It’s not my fault this light weight can’t take a punch!”

“Come on… Beg me, and maybe I’ll fix your shit city.”

Ikati Bleak

Ikati Bleak is extremely smart and knows how to get in your head. Never trust him

He’s the brains behind every robbery committed by himself and his “Blood Bug.”

He can easily hack into the government and cause all sorts of mass destruction with the push of a button if civilians step out of line

Like Blood Beetle, he doesn’t care about the lives of other people, seeing them as only stepping stones in their path towards total domination

Whatever Blood Beetle desires, he is more than happy to do whatever it takes to make him happy

Enjoys using his cataclysm on famous landmarks and important artifacts

As Max, he’s deceitful, gets a thrill out of using his intellect against others, and uses his tech skills to torment the student body

Max was sent to DuPont for hacking into the grade books and ruining everyone’s GPAs just for the hell of it

“Whatever my Blood Bug wants, he gets.”

“Ruining lives is just no fun when they don’t cry.”

“One little button. That’s all it takes to see your city turn to dust.”

Emperor

One word… Insane

Emperor has no goal other than to cause mass chaos and make all who stand before him kneel at his feet

He turns people into Akumas against their will and uses psychological and/or emotional torture to make them comply

He forces them to steal, cause property damage, and attack a few people he doesn’t like

He only has a soft spot for Prince Pain and will drop everything to just kiss his hand

As Nathaniel, he’s just as unhinged as Emperor. People would say he has a Napoleon Complex, but the last person to say that mysteriously fell down the stairs

Note: Nathaniel hates it when people even imply that he’s inferior

Those at his last school were relieved when the School Tyrant finally left

“Princey, allow me torment this undesirable for you, darling.”

“Aw~ Why so serious? And here I thought we were having so much fun.”

“Oh, I have ways of making you comply, dear.”

Prince Pain

He’s every bit of crazy as Emperor, but braver. He’s jumped off the top of the Eiffel Tower and landed on the back of a winged Senticreature

This guy only has a soft spot for Emperor and his babies

He can’t bear to part with them, so he lets them run around Paris, destroying everything in sight on a weekly basis

He’d never send an Amok after a civilian, becuase then they can turn his Senticreature against him!

He’s got the personality of Evil!Spinel with a bit of Harley Quinn mixed in there, always clapping and laughing when someone gets hurt

He will follow Emperor to the ends of the earth for no reason other than to cause chaos with him

Marc was sent to DuPont because there was no mental facility that would take him

“Hear that, babies? Other daddy is proud of you, my little weapons of mass destruction!”

“Voices in my head say I’m perfectly normal like any other person.”

“I don’t like the words your saying… Do you need your tongue removed?”

[transkingcobra]

Also just. Every one of the origins is a follower.

Lae’zel knows what’s going on with illithid bullshit - but she’s no leader of her people, she’s fighting to be seen amongst her people by her queen. She’s also in a very different place with very different people - while she mentions subordinates so she may have some experience with leading, she is still very young so that experience will be short, these are not fellow gith she has to deal with, and the violent ways she leans with her preferences are a very different set of skills for searching for a crèche in this unknown area.

Shadowheart may be in the grooming process to become a leader, but she doesn’t know that, and she’s nowhere near being allowed a position remotely close to a leader - Viconia never believes her good enough, and constantly puts her down. She’s not allowed to lead. And generally speaking, you have a gith with you. The gith won’t trust someone who just took issue with her race, and Shadowheart won’t trust a gith, so that defaults to Tav/Durge.

And so by this point typically you already have a set leader, even really before Shadowheart, but of course you don’t have to have any of these people when meeting a companion for the first time.

Gale does not seem the kinda guy used to group cooperation. When you’re the poster boy for gifted kids, your focus is on what you yourself can do, how good you are at it, in this case how good is he with magic. That isn’t much of a group effort, that seems simply a case of studying and practice, at most with a teacher to guide and peers to bounce off of, but not to a collective goal. Even outside of a classroom, Mystra was his teacher then imbalanced lover - he was never in the leading position. He’s book smart, he can cast spells, he can be the devil’s advocate yet try to steer your opinions towards good, but he’s no leader. And then he just spent a year in isolation speaking to no one but Tara. His social skills in general are gonna be shaky.

Astarion hasn’t been able to lead his own life let alone anyone else’s for two centuries. He doesn’t know what to do, even without the “I’m not a details person” mindset. Also: he’s an escaped pet. He needs protection. He doesn’t much care about anything but surviving and being free at the end of all of this. And the easiest way to have protection here is to let someone take the lead and want to protect you, not demand it from them. So his goal is to get the important people on his side - the leader will unify the group to his goal, or (iirc) going for the strongest (touchable) member, Lae’zel, should the leader not play along.

Wyll is quite honestly my personal favorite for choosing a leader among the origins. But he’s still not used to leading people. He’s second youngest and been alone for seven years - before that he was also no leader, he was still a teen. He knows how to fight, but it seems he’s been on his own this whole time for it. When you recruit him it’s pretty much either “I’m gonna do my own thing with this devil but if we find a cure for this worm that’s cool too” or “oh shit I’ve been lied to I guess I’ll hang with you because you’re right and I need help if I’m to figure out this worm.” So he either doesn’t care about the tadpole but will accept the help, or he’s now feeling lost after the deception and still needs help with the tadpole.

Karlach is another one who hasn’t had autonomy for years, she couldn’t lead her own life. She took orders to fight in the blood war and before that took orders from Gortash, a man she looked up to, to protect him. She’s a soldier and a damned good one but she’s not the type to call the shots because she isn’t a planner - she can even get herself arrested trying to get to Gortash on her own. She’s the type to run headfirst into a fight with little thought - which is fine when you’re being told “go here and fight,” but is not sustainable to do all the time as your only plan, especially for how big and complex the journey in the game becomes.

And then you have the other companions - Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, and Minsc. Mostly these guys are going to follow your lead because you’re already the leader.

Halsin is done being a leader and never wanted to lead anybody to begin with. And at first he’s not even there to help you with the tadpoles, he’s helping around in camp to travel with you since you have the same destination - so it’s safer for him to get there. If you help him lift the curse, he stays and helps in return. You are already the leader and again he’s done leading, but also you are the one to make the plans to help him while also hunting down your own cure. And if he’s coming with you to act 3 - your plans work.

Minthara I honestly am not sure I can speak much to her character but - your plan saved her. Her plan got her tortured and tadpoled. It is the pretty logical solution to let your rescuer lead in such a situation. You are her only safety, and if I remember correctly she doesn’t even think the others care for her at all - they just follow your lead.

Jaheira is honestly to me a weird one to have tag along but I can see the why. She is also a leader, but for her she can lead her people from a distance. The Harpers she’s leading are following orders and snooping around and they don’t need her personally there all the time even if they are constantly acting as one group - which I feel like they don’t for such a secretive thing, groups get noticed. Her Harpers are pretty much assumed to be a well-oiled machine - I don’t expect her to bring people she doesn’t trust into the shadow cursed lands, nor do I expect her to send people after Minsc that she can’t trust do the job without her either. So for her with the tadpoled group, it’s already got a leader, but it is also not entirely her fight to lead. You are leading the fight against the Absolute because you have the one thing that keeps the Absolute at bay, and she’s offering to join that fight directly. Not as an ally to the cause to work separately, but a direct member of the party working towards the defeat of the brain. She is a hero, after all.

Minsc is, well, Minsc. He follows Boo. He follows Jaheira. And he’s only alive because you lead the party to save him. Jaheira puts her trust in you and is following your lead, so Minsc is of course going to do the same.

People wonder how Tav became a leader so easily and let me tell you: after being in several projects, majority of people really do appoint leadership to the very first person who glances at the wheel of the ship. Most people want to be given a task and do the task. Anyway I'm just like Tav for real irl please demote me I beg I do not want to make decisions

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Petunias

Summary: Jake was just trying to be a good uncle.

Pairings: Jake Jensen x Black!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, daddy kink, size kink, rough sex, oral (f & m receiving), breeding kink, choking, slight degradation, dirty talk

(A/N: this is for @boxofbonesfic Hot Girl Summer Challenge. I don’t usually write for Jake but this idea hit me like a train. Hope you guys like it. Not proofread. As usual. Please like follow comment and reblog 💜 ✌🏾.)

»»——————————-　♡　—————-————-««

No one else seemed to get as fired up as him. As if watching them play wasn’t amazing. His friends would always come out to support but once again he found himself having to look at Aisha like she was crazy. “You bet against the Petunias!” He gasped.

Jake felt like he’d been to a million Petunia games since that entire mess. Practicing with his niece when he’d visit his sister. Arguing with refs when they made those stupid ass calls.

She shrugged with a smirk. “Sure did.”

“How dare you!” He glared at her. “Just for that I’m gonna cheer extra hard.”

Not like he didn’t always. He was proud of Annie. She was his baby. His pride. His joy. Seeing her happy only made him happy. So while he always did he never really saw anyone else share his enthusiasm.

Until he saw you.

Like him you were in a pink shirt. Even had a matching dad cap with a little purple flower on it covering your braids. Clapping and squealing so much it almost distracted him from Annie and one of her teammates putting in that teamwork to make a goal. 

Oh he had to talk to you.

“Wow,” Clay started. “There’s two of them.”

You screamed just as he did making you look up at him.Sure the other parents were excited, but the two of you were on a whole other level. He needed to see what was up.

“Which one is yours?” He asked as he sat beside you.

You looked at him and chuckled. “That one,” you replied pointing at the girl Annie was high-fiving.

Jake’s grinned. “Alyssa?”

“Yeah she’s my niece.”

His smile grew. “No way! Annie is my niece.”

You gasped, turning to him now. “You’re Uncle Jake?” You asked.

“And you’re Aunt Y/N!” He said. “I swear Annie doesn’t shut up about you.”

You laughed. “Well I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity they talk about you so much.”

“Trust me Annie will not shut up about you. About how you’re so cool and take them out to get your nails done.”

“Yup. We have a bi-weekly spa hang,” you replied and he swore he swooned from how perky you’d gotten.

He swallowed and found himself looking at you as you glanced back onto the field then started cheering again which made him turn his attention back.

“Let’s go, Annie!” You clapped and then repeated until his niece made another goal. He should have been doing the same but there was just something so hot about you looking as excited as he felt. That someone else could look as pumped from a fucking junior girls soccer game for the exact reason he was.

“Hey, so,” he said, “my friends and I usually go out for pizza and beer at Dom’s after the games. If you want you can join us.”

“I would but Annie and Alyssa bugged me to take them out for ice cream,” you said.

“Oh we go at about eight. It’s okay if you can’t, but I promise we’re cool.” He leaned his head up towards the group that was trying to play it off as if they hadn’t been watching them.

“I’ll think about it,” you replied.

He was pretty sure that was a no, but considering he’d been holding out hope he still went. Everyone else told him they were busy so he was kind of left to either look like a dork or hope for the best.

They gave such bullshit excuses too. Well except Pooch. Having a newborn could not be easy. Whatever he was stuck doing this alone. He couldn’t wait to make a fool out of himself.

So he sat at the bar with a beer bottle in hand. Trying to wish away the little bugs of nerves inside of him. He hadn’t been able to stop the jitters since he’d asked. It wasn’t like he normally had an issue talking to women but you were his niece’s best friend’s aunt. He couldn’t fuck this up.

He felt stressed about everything. He’d changed out of the Petunia shirt and probably irritated Cougar when he stressed about what to wear. Then settled on a blue button down, jeans, and converse.

Fifteen minutes passed eight. He sighed, taking off his glasses so he could rub the bridge of his nose. Fuck. He blew it. Maybe he came off too strong. He knew he shouldn’t have asked. Maybe he should have caught you the next time or maybe you were-

“Jake?”

Here. Maybe you were here.

He pushed his glasses back onto his face as he could see you. Now out of your team gear you were wearing this yellow polka dotted that made you look like a literal goddess. He swore he almost forgot how to breath. “Y/N, hey,” he said getting up and holding out his hand. “I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

You took his hand in yours and that’s when he realized he didn’t know how to fucking act suddenly. You probably thought he was a fucking dork for even shaking your hand. He should have hugged you. No now he was in to deep.

“Sorry I’m late I didn’t know what to wear and then my Uber took forever, but I hope this is okay.”

Okay? You looked like a fucking angel and you were asking him if it was okay. “No you look amazing.” Okay maybe too strong. Fuck he sounded like a dork.

“Thank you,” you replied this smile coming on your face. “You look good too.”

“Thanks. I know I said the others would be here but they ditched me.” He rolled his eyes.

Ugh he could listen to that giggle on repeat. “Well now I’m really happy I came,” you said. “This where we sitting?”

“We can move to a booth if you want,” he suggested.

Was he supposed to sit closer to you? God he wanted to. He was glad you picked one of those rounded ones so he could scoot a little closer if need be. How close would be too close? He didn’t wanna come off to strong.

“So what do you do for work?” He asked after he’d just ordered the both of you your then took a sip of his beer.

“I’m a librarian,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow. Could you get any cuter. “What? Really.”

“Mhm,” you replied. “At Alyssa and Annie’s school actually. So glad we’re on summer vacation.”

He chuckled. “Yeah? What are you planning to do?”

“Absolutely nothing aside enjoy my sweet, sweet freedom until September,” you replied with a laugh. “What about you?”

“Taking some time off,” he replied. “Just got out of the military so I’m taking a break until I start this new thing.”

“What are you planning?” You asked.

“Well, I mostly work with tech,” he replied.

You crinkled your nose. “That reminds me. I fucked up my laptop somehow.”

“Yeah? I can take a look at it for you sometime.”

“Really? That’d be awesome.”

You did this thing where you tilted your head back as you laughed. It only made him laugh harder as he watched you. You’d covered your mouth and then put a hand against your chest after.

He’d finally moved closer to you. A whiff of your perfume hitting him over the strong smell of beer and pizza in front of you.

“You’re lying!” You giggled.

“No! I’m so serious. The elevator doors opened and they saw everything.”

You looked down as you laughed. “Did they get mad?”

“I mean look they didn’t seem to upset. They were trying to get a better look,” he replied. “If anything I felt like a piece of meat.”

“You poor thing.”

He smiled as he watched you. Clenching his jaw and swallowing. Hoping like hell that he wouldn’t mess this up.

“You know I actually wasn’t gonna come tonight.”

“Yeah? What changed your mind?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Lys and Annie heard me and my sister-in-law talking and they went on and on about how funny you were and that I should go. I’m glad I did.”

“Yeah?” He asked. Who would have thought two eight years olds would make the best wing men. “I’m glad too.”

“Yeah I’m having a great time,” you said feeling your face heat up.

“Me, too,” he replied suddenly feeling like his face was hurting from smiling so much. “Hey, sorry to change the subject bit where did you get that Petunia hat? I’d love to add one to my collection.”

“Yeah of course,” you replied. “It might take awhile, but definitely.”

“Great.”

He saw a lot of you after that. At games and you’d hung out at Dom’s a few times. Then the summer was over and everything started back up.

Even when the season ended you’d almost become a constant in his life. You’d gotten so close to his sister. You even drove Annie to school with Alyssa so that was the most convenient. Since you also usually took them home, you tended to stay over for dinner a lot. Once he noticed that pattern he’d started to, too.

He wanted to tell you that he was into you, but it was like every time he tried he got tongue tied. Sometimes he was so sure you were flirting with him that all he could think about it was just saying fuck it and kiss you.

Yet and still his dumbass didn’t make a move. He knew he had a chance when you were helping out at Annie’s birthday. You were licking frosting off your finger like you were daring him. Then your brother walked in.

The year comes back around and it’s summer again. You’re back to wearing summer dresses like that one from the first night at Dom’s and it had been killing him. He was normally such a flirt to, but he felt like he couldn’t do that shit with you. There was too much at stake.

The girls are still on the same team because of course. This was their last year as Petunias. He’d never gotten his hat even though you kept swearing you’d do it.

“Oh shit that’s right I finished your hat!” You said, interrupting the conversation the two of you were already having pulling them cherry popsicle you’d stolen from your lips.

“It only took you a year,” he said with a laugh once again holding a beer bottle in his hands. Your sister was throwing a little barbecue so your brother and sister in law were there. Nieces off playing with all the other kids. The two of you tended to sit beside each other at these things now. “When can I get it?”

You stuck your tongue out which was red from the dye. The you placed it beck and he was trying to figure out if you knew what the hell you were doing to him. “Whenever.”

He chuckled. “Wanna go right now? So we can make sure it’s not another year.”

You smacked his strong chest and laughed. “I told you it would take awhile!”

He launched a little harder shaking his head. “But a year?”

“Yeah. The best year.”

Your apartment was just as cozy as he thought it’d be. All soft and warm. A light flowery scent wafting through the air.

The drive there consisted of the two of you turning the radio up when this song came on. Singing along to it loudly since no one else was around to hear. Then once again laughing on the short walk to your front door.

“Want anything? Water, coffee, tea? I actually think I have beer,” you listed off as you dropped your keys in the bowl by the front door, hung your purse up, and stepped out of your shoes. “I also have wine.”

“If I drink anymore beer I won’t be able to drive home,” he replied.

You shrugged. “My couch is always free.”

“Then beer it is,” he replied with a smile.

He sat on the couch with the beer in his hand as you went to your room to grab what you’d come home for so soon. Looking around at all the little knickknacks and pictures. Then got up to look at all the books on your shelf. Quickly taking note that everything was in order.

“Found it!” You announced coming back in the room. “Wanna try it on?”

“Yeah,” he replied as he bent down do you could do place it on top of his head with a giggle. “How’s it look?” He asked, posing with his hands on his hips.

“Cute,” you replied looking up at him with giggle. “I love it.”

“Yeah? I’m trusting your judgement.”

“Just go look in the mirror!” You laughed.

“Nope. Putting my faith in you. If I look dumb that’s on you.”

You pouted. “As if.”

“As if what?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes. “You know you’re hot. Stop.”

He raised an eyebrow and grinned on the outside, but on the inside his heart thumped. “I’m hot?” You crinkled your nose and opened your mouth only to close it again. While he was enjoying seeing you get all flustered he grabbed your hand. “I’m just teasing.”

“I know,” you replied.

“Besides it’s not like I don’t think you’re, well, I think you’re cute.” There he said it. It was out in the open. Not that he was expecting anything, but he was just happy he said it. Even if he did get a little tongue tied there.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. God he probably looked like a dope all nervous and shit. But this was it. Finally the right time.

He doesn’t know what it was. Maybe the way you were looking up at him, but he found himself leaning down to swipe his lips across yours.

Then you gasped against which made him pull away. “Shit sorry I completely misread,” he said. “I thought we were having a moment and now you probably think I’m a fucking creep.” He continued to ramble on and before he could even realized what was happening too grabbed the pocket on his shirt to pull him to you.

He held your hips as you made out. Your legs on either side of him. Fuck he was going to be obsessed with how you tasted from now on. He could just tell.

You ran your hands through his hair then came down to claw at his shoulders. Then to his ear where you rubbed his earlobe. He wasn’t sure where the fuck librarians like you had been hiding when he was in school, but he was just thankful that he was a grown man for this.

He laid you down and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist. Your dress hiking up because of it exposing your cute little panties. He found himself moving his hips into you and fuck he needed to stop because he was starting to get hard. That’s when you moved away from him as you let out a little moan. Fuck he could listen to that every.

“Is that your… um… your… ya know?” You asked, angling yourself like you were trying to make better contact with it.

“My what?” He asked, but he was too far gone to stop.

“Your dick?”

“Yeah that’s my dick, Baby. That okay?”

You nodded and licked your bottom lip before biting it. Looking up at him with such innocent eyes he almost felt bad that he wanted to rip your panties off of you.

“It feels really big,” you breathed out then laughed at the end then he shut up by grinding against you really slow. Making sure you felt it.

“Think so?” He asked.

“Uh huh,” you moaned with your jaw dropped.

Holy fuck you were fucking sexy. All spread open for him. God he better not fuck this up. Ever. There was entirely too much on the line. His niece liked you. That was a big deal for him.

“You can touch me anywhere you want, you know.”

Yup you were wifey. He was sure of it.

Still. He had to play this smooth. Didn’t wanna rush just wanted to take his time and fuck you started kissing his neck and he didn’t think it was possible, but he felt like he was about to fucking bust already.

His hand sliding up and down your thighs. So soft. So fucking pretty.

“Anywhere?” He asked. “Like here?” He reached under you so he could grab your ass.

“Yeah,” you whimpered. “Anywhere.”

He groaned to himself then brought the other hand up to one of your breasts. “What about here?” He asked as he squeezed it.

“Yeah.” You mewled. “You can take my dress off if you want.”

Fuck yes.

He sat up on his knees. Lifted it up a little passed your stomach. Then was about to lean back down to kiss you when he noticed the wet spot on your panties. He swallowed. His heart feeling like it was about to beat out of his chest.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

Hie gaze snapped back to you as he cleared his throat. “Your panties are soaked,” he hissed. “I do that to you?”

“Yeah,” you whined.

He couldn’t stop himself. Putting his thumb against your covered mound making you tense up and let out moan.

“Fuck, Jake.”

Fuck you sounded so pretty. And he could tell you wanted him bad. “ What you want from me, Baby?”

“Touch me.”

“Yeah?” He asked. “Where?”

“There,” you gasped as his fingers hit over your clit.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he demanded.

You groaned softly and then went between your bodies to pull your panties to the side. Exposing the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen. Fuck why did he have to wait a year.

No. Maybe that was a good thing. That’s why you were being like this. If he’d done it too soon it definitely wasn’t gonna be like this. Like how could this get any better.

“I want you to touch my pussy, Jake,” you said in a whimper.

He was gonna fucking nut his pants. Holy shit.

No. He had to play this cool. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this hard. Or if he’d ever been.

So you wanted him to touch your pussy. Your very cute, very wet pussy. As soon as his thumb touched the wetness of your clit he groaned. “Fuck, Baby. I really did this to you?”

You nodded with your mouth dropped open. “Uh huh,” you whined.

He just couldn’t stop himself as he pushed a finger in you. Fuck you were so fucking tight. “Want me to take care of you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you cried. “Yes. Please.”

“Such good manners,” he teased except you kind of couldn’t laugh because you were moaning like he was the first man to touch you in years. “When’s the last time someone’s fucked you, Baby?”

“I dunno. Like over a year.”

“What? You been waiting for me?” He asked.

You nodded and yup he needed to fuck you right the fuck now. He stopped so what he was doing so he could pull his shirt from his body. You used that time so you could take your dress off. Barely wasting anytime to removed your bra as he got up to take off the rest of his clothes even setting his glasses on the end table beside the couch.

You sat up as he was undoing his pants. Looking up at him with doe eyes then glanced at the bulge in his pants. You leaned forward so you could kiss the outline from the base to the mushroom tip.

He stopped you to pull it out as your jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” you gasped. “It’s so big.” He clenched his jaw and swallowed. He was about to speak except you cut him off. “Can I suck it?”

God yes.

Something about seeing you like this. Such a sweet girl like you happily choking on his cock. If he thought you were adorable before nothing could beat seeing you with your mouthful of him and saliva covering your face. Sucking on him like he was that popsicle earlier.

Letting him grab your hair so he could push you in deeper. Than holding you still as you coughed around him because it felt too fucking good. Then you pulled off with tears in your eyes to tell him how much you loved it. He was in fucking heaven.

Sure you couldn’t take him all the way. That was okay. You obviously wouldn’t mind practicing. And he was planning on making you practice over and over again even when you got it right. He understood. He was too much for your mouth to handle.

Not that you weren’t doing an amazing job. You definitely were. Honestly probably the sloppiest blow job he’d ever had.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” he warned.

He doesn’t know if that seemed to fuel you but it was like that was your goal. Like you were trying to suck the cum out of his dick. Then as he started to spurt in your mouth you made this face like you were in absolute bliss and it only made his orgasm more intense.

When he pulled you off he kissed you. Yeah he knew a lot of guys had a problem with that, but you’d just given him the sloppiest toppy he’d be an idiot to give a fuck about that sort of thing.

And he needed a taste. As soon as he put his tongue on you he knew this was about to be his new happy place. Right between your thighs whether it was his mouth or his dick.

You withered against the cushions. Grabbing at his hair and tugging the blond ends. He traced the alphabet with his tongue against your clit. Pussy sopping wet.

He got to the lowercase g and you let out a little scream. Seeing your reaction made him keep doing then he had to hold you down because you were moving too much. “I’m gonna, ah, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

That’s his fucking girl. That’s right you cum on his fucking tongue and fingers. Fuck you were gushing for him. He can’t believe he’d been the one to get you like this. He felt like a fucking man right now. Making the woman he’d been crushing on for a year cum so hard you were fucking squirting like no one else had ever done this to you before.

Or finding out that you hadn’t been fucked in a year. You’d been waiting for him like such a good girl. He should have fucked you that day you’d met.

It took giving you a few more orgasms before he could come up for air. He was finding himself getting addicted to it, but he needed to stop. Needing to fuck you properly like you deserved.

He leaned back down to kiss you. Dick pressing into your inner thigh. Just one move and he could slip in. No protection. No nothing. Normally that wouldn’t have been tempting but he wanted to fuck you just right. Wanted to fill you with his fucking cum like you deserved.

“Please,” you begged. “Fuck me.”

“Don’t worry, Baby. I’m gonna fuck you.”

With that he lined up with your entrance. Giving you a little bit of time to adjust to him. “Please,” you whimpered this time. “Just do it. Fuck me. I don’t care anymore.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said moving his hips shallowly.

“Please? I like it,” you moaned. “I want you to fuck my hole like you don’t care if you hurt it.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Well. Who was he to deny that. “Yeah? Want me to make it hurt.” He pushed in a little deeper stlll not fully wanting to give you it all yet.

“Please. I wanna be your slut.”

Okay.

See.

Fuck.

Now Jake liked to think of himself as a nice guy. Part of the reason he was so into you was because you matched his energy. Just so sweet and adorable, but when you were legs wide open and moaning that you wanted to be his slut he’d be crazy to not give you that. He could push his niceness to the side if it meant making you happy.

So with that he shoved in. If you wanted it who the fuck was he to argue. As if he hadn’t jerked off to this exact same scenario. Of course he’d always pictured your first time if it ever happened to be sweet and gentle. Sometimes in a meadow as you wore a flower crown. While he had quite the imagination the real thing beat that by miles.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you chanted into his ear with every moan.

“Oh god,” he grunted because you were tight. It was a good thing you’d sucked him off before because he probably would have came the moment he buried himself into you. Now that would have been embarrassing.

Your finger nails felt so good digging into his skin. Clinging to him like you were afraid he’d let go. As if he’d stop.

“I’m, uh, cumming, uh,” you cried.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl that right. You cum on my dick.”

You arched your back and let out another little scream. Shit. How the fuck was he supposed to hold on when you got this tight. Just like earlier when you’d sucked the cum from his dick this time it felt like you were trying to milk him. Fuck he could fuck you like this everyday for the rest of his life.

“Choke me,” you asked.

Yup he was gonna marry you. That was it. He’d made up his mind. You were the girl for him.

He did as you asked. “Just like that!” You cried. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Please. You’re gonna make me cum again.”

“Yeah just like that. Who fucks you right, Baby?”

“You do!” You moaned.

He leaned in closer to you. Putting his lips against your ear. “You know I didn’t put a condom on right.”

“That’s okay.”

“Yeah?” He asked. “I’m not pulling out. This pussy’s too good not to cum in.”

“I’m, ugh, on, ugh, birth, ugh, control.”

If you were anyone else and he was hitting it like this those words would have made him feel relieved. Except it was you. And with you the idea of leaving you full of his cum and potentially with child made him feral. “Really?” He asked. “That sucks.”

“Why?”

“Making me wanna put a baby in you.”

You gasped and raised an eyebrow. Pussy tightening because of his words. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned. “Don’t want any other man thinking they can have you. This my pussy.”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you should be.” Oh fuck he was almost there. His rhythm now getting all sloppy. “How can I fuck you right if I can’t get you pregnant with my baby. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Oh fuck,” you sobbed. “You’re such a fucking Daddy.”

Yup. He was gonna blow. Aiming right for your cervix. Just because he probably wasn’t going to put one in you, doesn’t mean he couldn’t at least show you what he was gonna do when he did.

“Yeah? That’s it. I’m Daddy, Baby. I’m your Daddy.” He moaned out as he kept shoving himself into you before stilling as he finally busted. Pinning you under him as his cock pulsed inside of you.

He put his face into your neck as he came down from his high. This feeling of triumph washing over him. You were here. You were under him. You’d finally let him fuck your brains out. You called him Daddy. He was pretty sure he could die happy.

Finally after a moment he lifted up to kiss you. Then pulled you away, rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded and wrapped your arms around him. Fucking finally. He’d been waiting for so long to get you close. Now you were here and totally needy. Looking ethereal in your post-coitus glow.

“C’mere,” he whispered as he tried to turn you over so he could hold you from behind. As you tried to get situated against him and cozy he found his back hitting the floor in a thud.

You sat up quickly “Jake! Are you okay?

With his eyes closed tight he groaned. Well at least he waited until afterwards to embarrass himself. “Physically yes, but my ego took a pretty big hit.”

You laughed and next thing he knew you were on top of him. Cuddling into him like he hadn’t just eaten shit. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.” Then you pressed your soft lips against his cheek.

As the night turned into a weekend of him dicking you down he had a few realizations. One. You’d definitely been parent trapped by your nieces. Two. It was a little early to ask you to be Mrs. Jake Jensen, but he was pretty sure you were his dream girl. And three? The both of you were going to look dope as fuck in your matching Petunias hats and t-shirts this season.

[therenlover]

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs Chapter One (A Three Chapter Helmut Zemo/Reader Fanfic)

(Thank you to the wonderful anon who requested angst and smut between Zemo and the reader because Zemo had to be away from her on the run!)

Synopsis: A year after working together with Zemo in the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Sam and Bucky seek him out once again in need of shelter from John Walker. Meanwhile, Zemo’s wife resents his absence and prepares for guests.

Tags: Flashbacks, Depression, Alcoholism, Separation Anxiety, Arguing, Struggling Marriage, Reunions

Rating: T (E in future chapters)

Warnings: Guns, Swearings, Reader shows signs of alcoholism/alcohol abuse, Reader uses a hot shower as a mild form of self harm

Word Count: 5000~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

----------

Helmut Zemo was not often a man backed into a corner.

He was smart, resourceful, and had nothing left to lose. If it came down to the line, he would do whatever had to be done within his morals to achieve his goals, even if that goal was simply staying alive. The Baron bowed to no man, and made his enemies, no matter their size, fall to their knees with sheer wit instead of brute strength. That’s why, when he stood backed into an alley with the barrel of James Barnes’ gun to his forehead as the Falcon watched on, it was strange that he didn’t try to weasel his way out.

“We need answers,” Sam said, hands in the pockets of his dark hoodie. Bucky wore a similar one, only he wore a baseball cap instead of keeping his hood up. “How the hell did you break out of prison for a second time?”

Usually, Zemo would have replied with a clever quip. He had never been one to back down from a fight. This time, though, he looked almost frightened as he raised his arms in defeat. “I got in contact with friends on the outside during our short adventure together. They decided to help me out once I was re-incarcerated, willingly I might add. I had no part in the plan, but who would look a gift horse in the mouth?”

“And I guess I’m just supposed to assume you had no part in getting my pardon revoked?” Bucky spat.

“If you hadn’t noticed, James, I’ve left you alone,” A hint of his usual mockery slipped into Helmut’s tone, but he quickly pulled it back, “Believe what you want about me, but I’ve had some time since last year to… re-evaluate my feelings on the world. You had no choice but to do the things you did as the Winter Soldier, and as long as you pose no threat to society now I have no qualms with you,”

Despite the strangeness of Zemo’s response Bucky remained unphased. Sam, on the other hand, was less stoic.

“Man, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the government is looking for Bucky and I harder than they’re looking for you, and it’s kind of all your fault, so excuse me for not giving a shit about your supposed sudden change of heart!”

“Can we get to the point? I’m afraid my flight leaves in an hour and I would hate to be late,”

“Cut the bullshit!” There Bucky went, pushing the cold metal closer to Zemo’s furrowed forehead.

“Bucky...” Sam warned.

“No, Sam, I can do this. Did you or did you not actively attempt to get my pardon revoked when you took us to Madripoor? Because thanks to you, a worse symbol than Sam is now standing unchecked with the title of Captain America AND he has access to the last of the new super soldier serum AND he’s trying to get us killed so we can’t tell the world about the awful shit he does,”

“I-” Zemo went to speak and, for the first time since he had met him, Sam believed he was being genuine. There was a tremble that made its way through him, all the way to his raised hands and even his voice. It was enough that Bucky even lowered the gun minutely. “I understood that by following my lead, the both of you were risking a lot. I didn’t intend any specific malice with my actions though, no. If I may… the two of you have attracted a lot of attention here in the past few days. I assume Walker is very close to finding you?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look before Sam responded. “Maybe, why?”

“I have a safe house,” he continued, “I don’t stay there often so the location isn’t compromised, but it’s my next stop. Might I suggest we take this conversation on the road? I would hate to host your reunion with Mr. Walker in an alley over my corpse,”

There was a moment of complete stillness. Zemo remained, face dark with that strange deer-in-headlights look, a perfect statue, as the barrel of Bucky’s gun remained pointed firmly in his direction and Sam shared what seemed to be a completely silent conversation with Bucky. It was true that they had been burned before. Zemo was a man with his own agenda who did what it took to fulfill it. That being said, he had returned willingly with them back to prison before he was broken out, and without his help, the band of freshly minted super soldiers would still be running around Europe causing chaos. In the end, Bucky lowered his gun slowly before tucking it away into his boot holster.

Zemo grinned.

“Don’t think this means we trust you,” Sam groaned, pointing a finger at the man.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, gentlemen, I believe we have a plane to catch,”

As the trio began to make their way out of the alley Bucky and Sam fell to the flank of the group. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Bucky asked, eyes darting between his two companions. Sam shrugged.

“At this point, I’m doing whatever it takes to get home to my family in one piece. If that means I have to ride in Zemo’s stupid private jet again and lay low for a while, then that’s what I’m gonna do, because Sarah and those kids don’t deserve to lose me all over again,”

“But don’t you think he’s acting a little… weird?”

“Don’t worry, I have my eye on him. If he tries anything we can just throw him out front when Walker tries to shoot us,”

“You’re doing a very poor job of concealing your conversation,” Zemo shouted.

Bucky stormed ahead as Sam laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

Surprisingly, the drive to the airstrip was mostly uneventful, as was the relatively short flight from Zurich to Avignon. There was, of course, the usual cutthroat banter and tension so thick you could feel it like a fog hanging over the group, but in an unusual twist of fate, the baron did very little to initiate. Of course, he wasn’t fully innocent though. He never was. That being said, even as his chauffeur carefully navigated the stone roads to the dropoff point he was strangely quiet. He had texted someone earlier to have the house prepared for their arrival but he kept looking down at the phone as if a response would come. It didn’t.

Sam appreciated the break from the noise. To him, it was a moment of peace after a few months of constant opposition. For the duration of the trip, he had chosen to shoot a few choice quips Bucky’s way before taking a long nap. Bucky, on the other hand, was only growing more suspicious of Zemo by the minute.

After his time with Hydra, Bucky had become intimately acquainted with the type of man that Zemo was. He was ruthless, driven by ideals that couldn’t be changed by any amount of debate or theory read inside a prison cell, and willing to do whatever it took to fulfill those ideals no matter the cost. There was remorse but no regret. A man like that doesn’t just stop believing in the thing that led him to kill dozens if not hundreds of people, because once the impetus is gone so is the only thing upholding their sense of self.

In basic terms, he was hiding something. Bucky was intent on finding out what that thing was, a thing important enough to make Zemo of all people shut the hell up and tell his enemies exactly where his safe house was, and he wasn’t going to rest until he did. The answer came easily enough in the end, but not before Sam and Bucky were forced face to face with the strangest thing they had ever seen, even when including aliens and wizards. That thing was Zemo buying flowers.

The trio had gotten out of the car somewhere around the center of the city and continued towards the safe house on foot. A few minutes after they started, though, Zemo had spoken.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to stop for a moment,” He said, holding up a hand to alert the two men trailing him to the fact that he was about to stop. Sam quirked up an eyebrow.

“At a flower shop?”

There, to the right of them, was a small fleuriste. The window was a burst of bright color. Pinks, reds, whites, purples; a certain bunch of spring blooms had caught Zemo’s eye. He shrugged. “It’s rude to arrive at someone’s house asking for a favor without a gift, Mr. Wilson. Excuse me,”

With a comfort that said he had been into the shop many times, Zemo walked through the door and began conversing with the shop owner in perfect French, even referring to her as tu instead of vous as he made his purchase.

“Did he just say someone’s house ?” Sam asked Bucky, eyes widening.

Bucky gritted his teeth. “Yeah, I think he did,”

“So, we’re just showing up at someone’s door,”

“Yup. Not to mention they’re someone who aligns themself with him,”

A groan escaped from Sam as he ran his hand down his face in disbelief. “I didn’t expect much from Zemo, but damn,”

“It’s your fault for expecting anything from Zemo in the first place,”

“For once, you’re right,”

They dawdled for a moment. As their conversation stilled, Zemo returned, now burdened by a sizable bouquet from the window. Around them, the city was starting to get off of work. Families walked together as businesses had their 5 o’clock shift change. Somehow as the world around them came to life it didn’t look at Sam and Bucky with anything more than a passing glance. They were tourists, nothing more. For a moment Sam understood why Zemo would go to a place like this for safety and anonymity.

Without ceremony, the trio began walking towards their destination once again.

“I apologize for the delay,” Zemo said, keeping his pace brisk and remaining about a foot ahead of his companions, “I suppose it’s become a bit of a habit that I buy Y/N flowers whenever I come back. We shouldn’t be long now, though, the house is just a few more blocks away, maybe 3 minutes by foot,”

“Y/N?” Bucky asked. The name felt heavy on his tongue, familiar. That had to be a coincidence though. Zemo would never align himself with anyone who had worked for Hydra, and there was no other place he could have heard that name and had it hold any significance. Right?

Zemo chuckled. “Y/N is our host. I’d appreciate it if you tried to maintain some semblance of respect when we arrive, she tends to have quite the temper and it would reflect badly on me if she believed I was asking her to indefinitely house two people who would happily send her to prison,”

“About that,” Sam chimed in, “Who the hell are we about to be staying with? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t, and by extension, I also don’t tend to trust people who trust you,”

“I assure you, Sam, Y/N is more trustworthy to you than I will ever be,”

“That doesn’t answer my question, nor does it make me feel any better,”

“She’s American, and like you, she is seeking shelter from the government. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“Man, at this point I feel like you’re not telling us because she’s actually some sort of crazy Sokovian sleeper agent who’s gonna stab us in the back while we sleep. Am I crazy, Buck, or am I right?”

Bucky, who had been trying his best to stay out of the conversation, replied. “You are being unnecessarily evasive, Zemo, though that’s nothing new…”

“Right? Like, I’m really grateful that you’re lending us a hand, but I’ve gotta be honest, if I think for a second things are going south-”

Sam never got to finish his sentence.

Suddenly, Zemo stopped short, turning around and looking Bucky in the eye with a madness neither he nor Sam had ever seen before. His whole body was stiff, rigid. The hand that wasn’t cradling the flowers delicately was gripped in a fist at his side. He looked angry, but underneath the anger, he really just looked scared. “You will not touch her. Do you hear me? Do what you’d like with me, I have made choices worthy of punishment, but you will not touch Y/N. If you so much as think of it, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

Bucky nodded, sharp. This was certainly interesting. Sam just smirked.

“Is there something else you want to tell us?”

Zemo walked up a small set of stairs towards a home to their right. “No, Mr. Wilson, I don’t believe so,”

The building was a nice one, all tan stone with dark wrought-iron fixtures on its many windows. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a normal midtown manor-house for some upper-class member of the community. The normalcy of it all hid its true purpose in plain sight. It was genius, really. Over a dividing wall made of the same yellowing stone, Sam could see a small sliver of vibrant green garden space and a pool at the side of the building.

With a steadying breath, Zemo knocked on the door.

“You have to knock on the door of your own safe house?” There was a hint of incredulity in Bucky’s voice as he crossed his arms. This was going to be a disaster. Why had they agreed to this again?

“A little etiquette goes a long way, James, especially when you’re already in the doghouse,” Then, the door opened.

Bucky froze. There, standing in the doorway with a pistol in her hand and a fire in her eyes, was a woman he thought long dead: you. This couldn’t be right! He had killed you back in ‘02 with the rest of the AAHR...

You quirked up an eyebrow at Zemo.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,”

They were so fucked.

________________

The day, on your end of the world, had gone by much slower.

It started off like any other, with the alarm on your bedside table blaring as you opened your eyes and your arms reached out into the emptiness in the sheets beside you. Sometimes, when Helmut’s flight got in late enough, you would wake up and reach to the side only to find that he had appeared beside you in the night. Those were the best kind of reunions. They were free of pretense, no bitterness or resentment clouded your sleep-heavy brain when you opened your eyes to his peaceful resting face, and you could simply fall into the comforting rhythm of husband and wife. If you reunited with a clear head things tended not to go as well.

You groaned. It wasn’t as if there was even a guarantee he would come back, especially not after the way you’d left things last time. The philosophy of attendre et espérer, waiting and hoping like an Edmond Dantés type, wouldn’t do you any good, at least not anymore.

Maybe it was time to start moving on…

Tomorrow. You could start thinking about the next steps tomorrow. For today you’d enjoy what you had.

Getting out of bed was difficult but you managed. The sun streamed through the curtains that billowed gently in the breeze near your balconette, brilliant gold beams illuminating the dust that danced in the air. The first thing you did was shuffle along to the corner and pour yourself two fingers of brandy from Helmut’s private collection. It was like a morning ritual these days, a numbing agent against the loneliness. Once the drink was downed you moved on to the closet to get dressed.

Dressing yourself wasn’t of much importance these days. You couldn’t exactly leave the house, and nobody was visiting, so more often than not, it was easier to just wear the same pajamas for a few days until you knew Oeznik would be around to drop off groceries. Today, though, you felt… filthy. Not dirty in a physical way, just sticky and filthy and unclean under your skin and in your very heart. Maybe a shower would help.

You looked around the closet with a clinical eye. It was difficult to be in there, surrounded by lavish dresses and expensive suits that you and your husband had worn arm in arm while plotting the downfall of the Avengers before your unsteady alliance had turned into so much more. Everything still smelled like his cologne. In the small, often-closed, walk-in closet, the scent had only intensified, covering every article of clothing with a fog of cedarwood and sage. It made you sick, choked the air from your lungs and left you gasping for even a single breath that didn’t sit heavy on your tongue with the bitter taste of that familiar musk.

The alcohol had helped. It always did. The remnants of its burn in your mouth formed a sort of guard against the scent of the closet as you searched through a pile of shirts for something soft and easy to wear. Your hands suddenly stilled.

“Zemo, I’m gonna be honest, this is the ugliest sweater I’ve ever seen in my entire life,”

“I’m hurt! That’s one of my favorites,”

“Where did you even get it, a 90-year-old grandpa’s closet? Jesus Christ, it looks like something out of a shitty 70’s flick about family values,”

“I’ll have you know that I thrifted that sweater. It’s very eco-conscious you know,”

Your heart hurt. Well, no, your whole body hurt, but your heart ached a little more prominently as you carefully picked up the sweater and held it to your chest. It was terribly ugly, 4 sizes too big even on Helmut and covered in an olive and forest green argyle. Somehow he was always able to pull off the oversized thing no matter how ridiculous you had always insisted you found it. When was the last time he’d worn it again?

The memory evaded you.

Still, it was a happy relic, happier than most of the monuments to a failing marriage that lined the shelves of your beautiful personal prison. It wouldn’t hurt to hope that by wearing it, you might rub just a little bit of that lost happiness off onto your present-day, right? With one last forlorn glance around the closet, you gathered up the sweater and a pair of jeans before getting out as fast as you could. With the scent of cologne clinging to you, the shower wasn’t just a good idea now, it was necessary.

So, you showered. You took the stupid foot-long exfoliating brush Helmut loved so much and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed yourself under the near-boiling stream of water until your skin was pink and raw. Disappointingly, even the new skin felt filthy. It was better, though, less intense. With some lotion and a little bit of Neosporin on the fresh patches of blotchy red, you were able to feel okay. Not good. Not clean. Just… okay. At least you didn’t smell like him anymore. The clock read 12:14 when you finally made it out of the bathroom in search of some real food.

Lunch, if you could call it that, was a silent affair. The fridge was almost empty and the pantry was only a little less bare, so you threw together a cheese sandwich, not even bothering to waste butter and grill it. You ate it plain with another glass of brandy out on the pool deck. It was gone sooner than you hoped it would be.

Oh well.

You finished your brandy with a sigh. Only seven or eight more hours until you could finish your day with a few more drinks and pass out in bed until nine or ten once again. Ah, dreamless sleep. That sounded divine. Now if only you could fathom any non-depressing way to spend the time between sleeping and waking. Swimming was out, the chemicals would burn your freshly eviscerated skin. Playing solitaire for the fourth day in a row sounded like absolute hell on earth. Even watercolors, a usual calming respite from the torturous and neverending monotony of life trapped alone in a house you had no help in stocking, were off the table ever since you’d run out of paper.

Somewhere inside the house, your phone dinged.

The second the sound hit your ears you jumped, dropping your glass and letting it shatter into a thousand tiny shards on the stone of the patio.

Phones were a difficult thing to own for someone who was trying to stay out of the eyes of the government. They were too easy to track and could tip off enemies to your location with very little error needed on your part. Even searching the internet for innocent things was too risky. If your search history was too similar to that of the alias you had used before Helmut went to prison, it would have been easy for them to find a connection and send someone to track you down. Still, you kept a cell phone charged and ready on the kitchen counter despite the risk for one reason and one reason only: Emergency contact with your husband.

He never texted from the same number on more than one occasion, always switching from burner phone to burner phone as he flew across the country doing god knows what, but if he was ever in a situation where emergency contact with you was needed, he was able to reach you at your number immediately. It had only happened a couple of times, and each time he had been in a considerable amount of danger. So, when you suddenly heard the sound you dreaded more than anything else in the world, you were quick to rush inside, even ignoring the shattered glass at your feet as you shoved through the doors and found the phone.

The small, LED display was lit up with the notification. It made your heart both soar and sink.

Flying home with two guests. Prepare the two rooms for their stay. We will be there by 5 at the latest - B

You read over the message several times before letting the phone fall from your hand and back onto the counter with a dull thud.

That absolute asshole.

Three months. Three months you had spent sitting alone. Three months without a call, or a text, or a letter, or even a word of when he was coming back by way of Oeznik. Three months! And after three months of loneliness and sleepless nights and empty bottles on the drink cart he reaches out through an emergency line of contact that almost certainly means he might be dying only to tell you he’s bringing two strangers into your safe house, the place even he refuses to stay in too long in order to not give its location away. The scar on your spine was starting to burn as you leaned up against the counter and cried.

It was ridiculous to think you had ever believed him capable of more tact than that.

Really, it was your fault. From the beginning, you’d had too much faith in a man incapable of being trustworthy, even to those closest to him. You knew that, and yet you had married him. Maybe the soft touches and sweet lies he had spoon-fed you had made you weak. Maybe you always had been.

“I’m not a child, Helmut, I know what I’m doing!”

“I don’t think you do,” he shouted. He was a few drinks in now, you both were. The nights before his departures never tended to end well when you both drank. “Because no matter what I do to protect you, you have the need to disobey me! Have you considered that I do the things I do for your own good!”

“Oh! Oh yes, the things YOU do!” You slammed your glass down on the table as you stormed over to Helmut, “I sit here all day like a fucking dog in a cage while you fly to fucking Ibiza and flirt with supermodels, but YOUR story is just so fucking tragic! I’m your wife, Helmut! I’m not an animal or your property, I’m your goddamn wife! You can’t just order me to sit and stay like a dog,”

He glared down at you, eyes hawkish and glinting in the low lamplight. For the first time in years, he looked threatening, “You may not be a dog, or a child, or my property, but you are a weapon! It’s my job to keep you here, away from the-”

“Excuse me?” You interrupted. The two of you stood, inches away and yet miles apart. Slowly, the drive in Helmut’s eyes faltered. “Say that again. I dare you,”

“Schatz, I-”

“No, Helmut, you meant it so say it again. Call me that again. I fucking dare you,” Tears were streaming down your face now. He took a step towards you, hand extended to wipe them away, but you were quick to take a step back out of his reach.

“You misunderstood me,”

“I don’t think there was anything to misunderstand,”

You swept the shards of your glass tumbler into a dustpan, hands still shaking even ten minutes after you’d read Helmut’s message to you. As you worked, your last conversation before he’d left echoed in your mind.

How had it all devolved into that? It wasn’t hard to remember Helmut before prison, jaded and broken and lonely. He had been so much like you and yet so different. Each of you seemed to be the perfect balm for the others' wounds. In the end, despite all of his flaws, you had found yourself in love. Now that he was a different man, was that love gone? You couldn’t say. All you knew for sure was that you weren’t nearly drunk enough to be facing the confusing feelings in your brain. With the last of your energy, you emptied the dustpan of glass into the trash can and returned to the house, sweater itchy against your irritated skin, to ready the guest rooms.

The job wasn’t a long one. You had never used the guest rooms in all the time you’d spent at the Avignon property, so the sheets were already clean. There was just a thin layer of dust on the furniture that needed to be swept away as you checked to make sure the dressers were bare and the bathrooms were stocked with amenities. Then, when that was done, you were left to your thoughts as the hours ticked by.

Most of the time you spent sitting on the couch doing absolutely nothing. It sounded terrible, and in all honesty it was, but what else could you do? The house was already spotless so cleaning wasn’t an option, and you didn’t quite feel like doing much of anything as you stared at the clock and tried to remember a time when your life was less of a disaster. As it got closer to five, though, you started to get antsy.

You had tried your best to not think about the obvious issue of the guests. Zemo was not the type to threaten his home, even if he wasn’t happy with you, so usually having anyone who wasn’t Oeznik or another paid lackey aware of the location of your safe house would be a big no in his book, but then you started thinking of the implications of him bringing people into your home. Your home, not his. Was he on his way to kill you? It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Or maybe he was bringing your replacement.

Now that thought made anger bubble up in your throat. You were no stranger to the idea that when your husband was away, he could be doing anything. There was no guarantee when he slept in lavish hotels or drank the night away in elite lounges that he kept his wedding ring on. The fact that there were two guests meant it was unlikely he was bringing two mistresses, but never impossible. Nothing was impossible when it came to Helmut.

No, it was more likely he had finally decided it was time to end your suffering. The shouts and boisterous laughter that started to sound directly outside of the front room window only confirmed the for you. Slowly, you crept towards the door and grabbed a small pistol from its place in the umbrella stand. If he wanted you dead you weren’t going to go without a fight.

Through the curtains on the front door, you could just barely make out the trio. When you saw them your blood ran cold. It was one thing if he needed help to take you down, but getting the Winter Soldier on board? Your rage only grew by the minute.

Helmut said something, probably planning the best course of action to catch you off guard, and you sneered. Two could play at that game. When he knocked on the door you opened it calmly and held the gun with your finger just barely ghosting over the trigger.

Everyone froze.

“Give me one reason I should let you in and not shoot you on the spot,” you said, rage coursing through every nerve in your body. You may have been in retirement for quite a few years, but you still knew how to handle a gun. Everyone there, except maybe the Falcon, knew that. As Zemo went to open his mouth, you prepared for a firefight.

“Because I brought you flowers,”

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

a/n: Sorry that only one chapter is out! The fic is just getting very long and complicated and I wanted to make sure you got as much as possible before the next episode drops lol. I’ll be working pretty much nonstop from now until then, though, so the next parts should be out soon!

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​, @alanathedeer​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​ 

Please do not post my work on other sites, thank you!

[yourmcu]

Birthday

Pairings: The Avengers x  reader

Summary:

It’s your birthday and the team gets creative on how to surprise you, putting their acting skills to the test.

Word count: 2,350

A/n: just a little something because,, well,, it’s my birthday *runs away* also it’s cheesy, hopefully it makes sense lmao

Warnings: uhhh brief mention of explosion? mostly fluff

The Avengers wanted to get creative for your birthday this year. For the few years they've known you they picked up on things about you. One, you paid no mind to your birthday at all and just considered it a normal day like the rest of the 365, Tony took note that you hated parties, at least the really big ones, something that involved only the team would be good.

Okay, you sound like a party pooper, but that isn't the case; it's not a crime to just... not want to have a grand celebration, right? And people singing the 'happy birthday' song to you too while you just sit there in silence. It's awkward, you once told Natasha. It’s also awkward and hard for you to receive presents even though that’s what birthdays are all about, you’re still getting used to it since you knew someone like Tony Stark.

Well, the team think you're an amazing friend and they all treat you like family. They're so glad they met someone like you.

You're immediately called to the conference room on that day. Only to find the team arguing and pointing fingers at one another.

You kinda just slot in, sitting on the chair you usually sit on whenever there's a meeting or mission briefing. Glancing around, you try and find out what they're fighting about.

Security. Suits. Brief mention of Ultron. Rhodey busying himself with phones, probably making a lot of calls. Natasha and Clint talking among themselves, only raising their voice whenever they're included in the conversation which mainly consisted of Tony and Steve arguing.

"Suit up, get the jet ready." Steve dismisses but before he could walk out himself you raise your hand.

"Hey, sorry, I just woke up," you say sheepishly but coolly at the same time. "What happened, is everyone supposed to go? Can I read the file?" Because if this is an Avengers-level threat that required everyone, you'd want to know all about it.

His sharp and expression softens slightly when he looks at you. "No file, I'm afraid. Some of the compound's security protocols have been compromised, someone hacked in." He proceeds to tell you how they particularly had interest in Bruce and Tony's lab so the other rooms were untouched.

Apparently, they took blueprints and materials, maybe a handful of Tony's suits.

But if you think about it, those two carelessly letting the security to their lab loose? Highly unlikely...

You push the thought to the back of your mind and nod when Steve tells you to get ready. Stark tech can be dangerous in the wrong hands, after all. Let alone the Iron Man suits.

Fortunately, those things have trackers. Leaving you to wonder again why those idiots don't even try and take them off so they won't tracked?

Sat on the floor of the jet while everyone was strangely quiet but once again you didn't pay any mind, you sharpen a few of your knives. Natasha sat on a stool near you, idly picking her nails. An hour into the flight you furrow your brows and look around.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yes," Tony states quickly and a matter-of-factly. They all share glances before he continued. "It's the tension. Sorry. My fault."

"It's not your fault, Tony," Bruce starts.

"I'm sorry, to whom were those stolen suits again?" Steve speaks up as well and you could tell it's gonna be a full blown argument again.

"Now hold on just a second-" Tony faces the super soldier to counter.

You merely blink, not expecting a simple question to turn out like this. Clint just glances from the pilot's seat and Natasha almost cracks a smile by the look of your face. If only you knew it was all fake, all planned. But what does she know? You're a spy too, maybe you've figured out what they're up to and decided to play along.

Sad to say you're still oblivious. Maybe the fact that you only slept three hours last night is one case. You wanted nothing more than your bed right now.

Heck, not one of them wished you a happy birthday but you didn't notice at all.

Tuning out their bickering you sit down next to Natasha who's the only one not in the argument.

"I haven't seen Wanda all day," you say and she turns her head to face you. "Or Sam, or Bucky."

"Probably not back from their mission." Natasha answers promptly.

You frown at that. "Steve made this sound like an Avengers-level threat, and it is, shouldn't they be here?"

You don't wait for a response, opening up a globe-shaped hologram that shows where the jet, represented by a blinking dot. Your eyes slightly widen when you see the target location which is one of the places you've been dying to visit your whole life.

Maybe it's just a coincidence. You definitely didn't expect to visit it for the first time on a mission though.

Natasha clears her throat. "Hey, have you read the book I gave you?" She subtly closes the globe up when she catches your attention.

You shake your head bashfully. "You know I'm a slow reader. Give me two months then I'll come back to you." You laugh. Natasha smiles and tells you to take your time. "Have you read the book I gave you?"

"I loved it."

"I knew you would!" You say excitedly and the next few moments you discuss about the specific book. She's just glad you didn't ask any further questions about the location.

--

All of you split up once you reach the base but Rhodey and Bruce stay in the jet as backup. The place reminded you so much of the old Avengers tower, only with darker themes. You're paired with Clint who you follow to the side of the building, with surprisingly no cautiousness. He just... ran in, entrance deserted of guards.

You all had a digital, tech checklist to see what was stolen including all the suit names. So far you've searched two drawers now and still no sign of any agent or guard. But it's weird since the others are clearly doing their part on their floors. Thuds, footsteps and sometimes banging sounds could be heard all around.

“Finally," you mutter when you hear footsteps behind you, spinning around so suddenly to surprise your enemy and take him down with ease. You raise an eyebrow when they don't put up a fight at all.

Clint was in front of a computer when you peek in to one of the rooms but he waves you off. "I'll meet you on the next floor. This'll take a second."

"One suit on the roof!" you hear Steve grunt through your earpiece.

"Remember to remove the arc reactor, that'll shut them down for sure." Bruce reminds through everyone's comms.

You hear Tony let out a noise. "Might have a problem with that, Banner, they're all reprogrammed."

Expecting the man with seven Ph. D's to worry, it only took him a minute to respond back. "It's your tech. I don't believe they could do that completely especially having them for only twelve hours."

"In that case," Tony sighs. "There should be a kill switch under one of their reactors."

"Which one?" Natasha grunts.

The deafening silence from Tony's line explains it.

You fight your way though the thugs which again, don't put up a fight. Sometimes you throw one punch and they're out cold, leading you to believe the intense training Bucky insisted you do worked. The only tough ones were the Iron Man suits themselves.

Ripping out the arc reactors wasn't easy. You had to use all you force. On the second one you encounter it got the upper hand and blasts you through a wall, the impact sending sharp pain to your head and back.

You hear metal thumping of a suit so you get back up and attempt to get your hands on the Iron Man in front of you.

"Hey, hey. Same team. Look," Tony grips on your wrists and lifts his mask up. "You alright?"

“Yeah," you pant, relaxing a bit. "Yeah. One of them got m-"

"We just discovered a bomb, northwest," Clint says. By ‘we’ he means him and Natasha. The redhead speaks right after. “Two and a half minutes. How many suits left, Friday?”

"Only one more suit is fully functional."

You get out of Tony's hold and sprint up the stairs. "I got it."

He smiles to himself. The plan is all coming  to place.

As soon as you enter the room you dodge a blast from the much bulkier Mark XVI. Of course they'd want to make the stealth suit more powerful. You launch yourself towards it, stomping on an arm while trying to dodge blasts from the the other one.

"Y/N! Fifty seconds!" Steve shouts in your earpiece.

You could've just jumped out, leaving the compromised suits here to be blown up but being under pressure made you panic and set your only goal to find the switch.

The suit could still set off a blast from the arc reactor so you couldn't really get your hands on it without losing a freaking arm.

"Get out of there!”

But you didn’t have enough time. So you just curl into a ball against the wall, accepting your fate.

A pop did go off. Loud, but you didn't feel yourself torn into pieces right after. You also heard a bunch of aye’s and oh’s. Redwing whirs by to your head to drop off a birthday hat.

"Happy Birthday!”

Your eyes fly open. Turns out the only thing inside Mark XVI was confetti. Natasha walks over to you to inspect and make sure you're alright.

"What the hell?" Your eyes widen at her, then at everyone. Sam and Bucky were now standing with them, smiling at you amused.

"I think she's in shock.”

“You think?”

Steve glares at Tony with a hint of amusement. "I told you it would be too much."

"Trust me she prefers something like this instead of a big party. Don't you, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?" You take off the hat and clutch it between your hands, appreciating Natasha rubbing your back as you try to collect yourself. "How is none of this real?"

"We basically faked a mission for you." Rhodey says.

You look around all the rubble. "This building, the people, suits-"

"Bought the place," Tony states. "Hired stuntmen, did a few tweaks on the suits...”

"God, why would you do that?" You bury your face in your hands, not knowing if you should be laughing or crying. "I punched those guys!"

"They'll be fine, they signed up for it."

You gently get up and brush off some confetti off your knees.

"But back at the compound... you guys were yelling at each other and during the whole thing you all sounded serious," you point out. "Was that all part of the act?"

Especially when that 'bomb' was about to go off. Steve's panicked voice made you scared for your life, only to know that it was all fake.

They all show signs of agreement, laughing.

"We'd make such great actors." Natasha smirks.

"Alright, the cake isn't going to blow itself." Clint walks up to you with said cake and you meet him halfway.

Everyone gathers around and before they could inhale to sing the stupid song, you cut them off. "You all know I hate to be sung at. Can we just get this over with?"

They all burst out laughing, you giggle in the process, blowing out your candle. You all group hug right after. The laughter makes you miss the sound of faint thunder outside.

"Look who's late." Bruce points out.

"Yes, I got here as soon as I can, my apologies." Thor smiles sheepishly.

Your ears perk up at the all too familiar voice of the god of thunder. Moving everyone of the way, you leap to hug him. "Thor!"

"Happy birthday, dearest Y/N." He grins and pats you on the head. "I'm afraid my - I mean - our gift, is with Loki at the moment."

"Enough with the formality, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Peter rings up Tony to tell him everything's set up at the huge building they rented for your low-key party. Just the Avengers. Peter, Vision and Wanda were in charge of setting things up over there, from decorations and food. Sam and Bucky also helped a bit before they arrived at the fake base.

So you all get into the jet again, this time you look at the windows in awe to see what the city's like. You also asked a bunch of questions on how they pulled something stupid but unique fake mission like that.

Once you've reached your destination, the place was simple yet big enough to fit everyone. Tony really took notes for this year. You didn't like anything too fancy or elegant, and you didn't like huge-ass parties with hundreds of people you've never met before.

Here you're with your family eating, drinking booze and playing games, generally having a good time.

You give the other five Avengers big hugs. Vision's never usually a hugger but for you he made an exception just for today. Everyone was surprised when he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

"Hugging has a lot of good benefits," Vision says when he lets you go. "Astounding, I know. It is recommended eight times a day, hopefully you've already gotten that much."

You giggle at his remark and Wanda rolls her eyes playfully. “Thank you, Vision.”

“Splendid, that means I don’t have to give you one.”

You turn around to see the god of mischief himself carefully hand you a wrapped box. Loki chuckles when you smile at him. “Happiest Birthday.”

“Loki.... you know you and Thor didn’t have to-”

“Thor? That one’s from me. I assure you.”

“Y/N!” You hear Tony call from the other side of the room. “It’s time for presents, little miss. Good lord this looks like Christmas morning.”

-

unfortunatley i am that extra to post a birthday fic woo hoo

[theladyofdeath]

Heels {Rowaelin}

The prompt: walks in front of their crush in stripper heals and a short skirt because they want their attention

Rowan x Aelin os

Written with @snelbz​

There was no way this could be a good idea.

Aelin was sitting on her bed, watching as Lysandra flicked through her closet. She had told her that tonight was the night and had recruited her to help her do what she considered nearly impossible.

She was going to get the attention of Rowan Whitethorn.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know she existed, it was quite the opposite. He was one of her friends, having met during orientation week their freshman year, and as their group grew, so did their friendship. But after three and a half years, she had very solidly gotten her stuck as just that: his friend.

“You’re wasting your time,” Aelin crooned, flipping through the timeline on her phone. 

“Bullshit,” Lysandra muttered, flipping through the clothes in her closet. “You need to feel confident, Aelin. Rowan is obsessed with you, and you’re obsessed with him. This whole thing is ridiculous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but remained quiet. 

“How about this?” Lysandra asked, pulling out a denim mini skirt and black halter cropped top. As Aelin was about to reply, Lysandra said, “Say nothing. Put it on.”

With a roll of her eyes, yet again, Aelin did as much. Once she had the skirt and top on, she looked in the mirror. 

And she looked hot as hell.

“Shoes?” Aelin asked, despite herself. 

“Oh, I have the perfect heels,” Lysandra said, fleeing from the room. She came back a moment later with a pair of black stilettos that were Aelin’s  size. 

Scoffing, Aelin held them up. “I’m going to break my neck.”

Lysandra snorted and flounced back into the bathroom where she continued to straighten her hair. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Fine,” Aelin amended. “I’m going to break my ankle.” She set the shoes on her bed and joined Lysandra in the bathroom to finish getting ready.

She let Lysandra curl her hair, but drew the line when she offered to do her makeup. They had very different styles when it came to that and while Lysandra looked drop dead gorgeous with her cat-eye liner and ruby red lips, Aelin would never be able to pull it off.

“Where is this party even at?” Lysandra asked, pulling her hair back into a stylish ponytail.

“Lorcan’s.” Aelin was trying to keep her hand steady as she applied the thin line of liquid eyeliner to her upper lid. “I think Elide convinced him to throw it.”

Lysandra snorted, applying her mascara.  “Sounds right. Lorcan isn’t exactly the host-type.”

Aelin grinned, tossing her eyeliner in her makeup bag. “Alright, hurry up. I want to make my entrance.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lysandra took one last look in the mirror and declared herself ready and they were off.

Lorcan’s apartment was just on the edge of campus, so the two girls walked and earned the eager glances of many as they did so.

Aelin took it as a good sign.

“Will Aedion be here tonight?” Lysandra asked, shooting a glance over at Aelin.

She groaned. “Probably.” She still couldn’t believe that her roommate actually had the hots for her cousin. He was practically her brother and the thought of him in any sort of compromising position made her want to gag. “If you hook up with him tonight, please do it at his place. I can’t afford therapy on my barista’s salary.”

“Trust me,” Lysandra said, adjusting her ponytail as they approached the steps to Lorcan’s. “I plan on giving you complete privacy at the apartment tonight. And you better take advantage of it.”

Butterflies grew in the pit of Aelin’s stomach. 

She planned to, hoped to, wanted to…but, she had to catch Rowan’s eye first - something that made her nerves go haywire. 

Lysandra must have caught it, because they stopped outside of Lorcan’s door and Lysandra made Aelin face her. 

“You look gorgeous,” she said, and brushed Aelin’s hair back. “He’d be an idiot not to come after you.”

That was the goal, after all. Aelin was not going to be the one doing the chasing. She wanted Rowan to see her, want her, not be able to take his eyes off of her. She knew he’d be here, the party was at his best friend’s apartment, knew that everyone from their friend group would show up. Yet she was absolutely fucking terrified he’d see her and have zero reaction.

She played it off with a joke though. Scoffing, she tossed her hair over a shoulder. “He’d better. I didn’t book an emergency appointment with my waxer for nothing.”

If Lysandra noticed the fake bravado — which she absolutely did, she and Aelin had become as close as sisters over the past three years — she didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she smirked, smacked Aelin on the ass, and said, “Then let’s go get your man.”

The music could be heard from a block away, and when they opened the front door, the apartment was already packed.

People definitely noticed them come in, though, including Elide who was running towards them, a drink in hand. “It’s about time you two showed up!”

“The host himself isn’t here to greet us?” Aelin mocked, giving Elide a hug.

Elide chuckled as she rolled her eyes. “He’s been out on the balcony for about a half hour, avoiding all human interaction.”

“Sounds about right,” Lysandra replied, rolling her eyes, but then she began looking around the spacious townhouse Lorcan and Elide shared. “You haven’t seen Aedion tonight, have you?”

Elide gave Aelin a knowing glance, but said, “Last I saw, he was playing beer pong with Fenrys. Don’t know who the poor bastards getting their asses handed to them were, but they’re probably still in the kitchen.”

Lysandra gave Aelin a wink. “Good luck.” And then she was gone, lost in the bodies dancing to the music.

Her part in tonight was done, to help Aelin get Rowan’s attention. It was all up to Aelin now, so Lysandra was free to find someone to occupy her own time. Even if the thought of who she’d be with made Aelin want to shudder.

Alone with Aelin, or as close to it as they could be, Elide let out a low whistle as she finally took in Aelin’s outfit. “I have a feeling that outfit isn’t just to impress me.”

“Does that mean you’re not impressed?” Aelin asked, pretending to pout. 

Elide looped her arm through Aelin’s and led her to the bar. “I’m always impressed, but I don’t think you care so much about my opinion, do you?”

Aelin snorted as she began to look around, but Elide saved her the struggle.

“He’s on the patio with Lor,” Elide said, simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll drag his ass back in here soon and Rowan will follow.”

Elide poured them both a shot, which Aelin gladly took and even asked for another. But when Manon and Asterin Blackbeak showed up, she waved Elide off to go greet her friends, and leaned against the bar, debating on a third shot.

She wasn’t trying to get shitty tonight, just a little messy, but her nerves were beginning to grow again.

Just as she decided to say fuck it, and get another shot, and heard a whistle from behind her. She turned and found Dorian Havilliard staring at her legs.

Or maybe he was staring at her ass.

They had messed around her freshman year, when his dorm room was just down the hall from hers, but it had never been anything more than that between them, and they agreed that they were better as friends. It didn’t mean they didn’t have fun though.

She smirked as she tossed the glass back and set it down on the bar top, before turning to him. “See anything you like?”

“I see quite a few things I like,” he said, raising his drink in salute. “Then again, only a fourth of your skin is covered, so there’s a lot to look at.”

Aelin laughed, quietly, and clinked her empty shot glass against his full bottle. “Gotta show off what the gods gave me.”

“As you should,” he agreed with a wink. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Well, it is school, and I actually study,” Aelin said, turning to refill her shot glass.

Dorian had the audacity to look offended. “Hey, I study, too.”

Aelin laughed as she turned back around. “Reading a bunch of books that have nothing to do with any of your classes doesn’t count as studying, Dor.”

“But they’re so much more interesting,” he replied, chuckling as he thought of the boring curriculum he studied for his pre-law degree.

Aelin rolled her eyes as she tossed back the shot and set it behind the bar. Four shots was enough. She’d be fun, she’d be confident, but she wasn’t tipsy enough to make an ass of herself.

Yet.

“I assume all of this skin isn’t for me, so who are you trying to impress?” Dorian asked, and then added, with a wink, “Chaol?”

Huffing a laugh, Aelin shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ended in a disaster and I’m not inclined to repeat it.”

The sliding glass door opened and Aelin’s eyes snapped to the door, before she quickly turned away before Lorcan and Rowan stepped inside.

“Oh,” Dorian chuckled, softly. “Whitethorn then.”

It wasn’t a question.

He had moved imperceptibly closer and she knew how it would look to Rowan. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted him to be jealous she was talking to another guy.

Even if she had no idea whether or not he’d even noticed her.

“Is this who I am now?” Dorian asked, quietly, leaning into her ear, fully aware that it looked like he was coming onto her. “Your super hot wingman?”

Aelin snorted, and didn’t bother moving away. “My overly cocky wingman, maybe.”

Dorian huffed a laugh. “I still take it as a compliment.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be flirting up Manon instead of fake flirting with me?” Aelin whispered, quietly. She glanced at Rowan, who was filling up a red solo cup.

“I like to make Manon wait,” Dorian said, running a finger up Aelin’s forearm. “She gets jealous, too, and it makes things so much more exciting in the bedroom.”

“Thanks for the image, Dor,” Aelin said, pushing away the need to roll her eyes and flick him in the nose.

He and Manon weren’t exclusively in a relationship, but everyone knew they hooked up with each other, and only each other. But, again, totally not exclusive.

“Besides,” Dorian mused, his finger skimming Aelin’s arm. “She’s busy doing body shots with Asterin. I’ll enjoy her later.”

Aelin snorted, reaching behind the bar and pulling an ice cold beer from the open cooler. She handed it to him and he opened it for her, flicking the cap in the air as if it were a coin.

He let it fall to the bar top as he leaned in to whisper in her ear one last time. “Pretty sure that’s my cue.”

She followed his gaze across the room, and found Rowan looking at her. Watching her and Dorian both.

“Have fun,” he added, before sauntering off towards the kitchen.

Rowan watched Dorian walk away to the other side of the room where he sat to watch Aedion and Fenrys continue to dominate in beer pong.

When Rowan’s eyes trailed back to Aelin, she was already watching him, a slightly-forced mischievous smile on her lips.

On the inside, she felt like she was going to puke.

He made his way across the room, pausing in front of her and slipped his free hand into his pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she said, and she wasn’t sure why it sounded so breathless.

“I didn’t see you get here,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

She did the same, fighting the urge to toss her hair over a shoulder. “You were outside.” She realized that told him she was keeping tabs on him and she quickly added. “I mean, Elide told me Lorcan was outside, so I assumed you had to be with him.”

He smirked. “Right. Well, I was. It’s a little crowded in here.” She nodded, but he went on. “However, seems like you didn’t mind when Havilliard was over here with you. Not too crowded for you, then, huh?” 

Aelin slowly lifted a golden brow. If Rowan wanted to play, she would play. “Not crowded enough for someone to be blocking your view of me with Dorian, apparently.”

A light lit up Rowan’s green eyes as his jaw twitched, suppressing a grin. “I can always count on you to manipulate my words and their meaning, Galathynius.”

Aelin’s grin was wide. “Someone has to keep you in your place, Whitethorn.” 

“And is that you?” He asked, voice low as he took a drink from his cup. “The person that’s going to keep me in my place?”

Aelin’s eyes glittered as she took another drink. It was always easy with Rowan. They could talk for hours, that witty banter, back and forth. But, that’s all that had ever happened between them: simple conversation. 

From the way she caught him watching her legs as she took a drink, though, she thought tonight may just end up as she planned.

A hell of a lot more than simple conversation.

“Want to dance?” She asked.

His eyes slowly slid up her body to meet her gaze. “You know I don’t dance, Ace.”

She took a long, slow drink from her bottle. “Not even with me?”

“Not with anyone,” he said, crossing his arms and resting a hip against the bar.

It was a miracle no one had interrupted them, but the bulk of the drinks had been set up in the kitchen.

“That’s a shame,” Aelin sighed, finishing off her beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash can. “I would love to dance, but I don’t have anyone to dance with.”

Rowan said, “I’m sure you can find someone, especially with how you’re dressed tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “And how is that?”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look drop dead fucking sexy,” he replied, without missing a beat. “I just don’t get why.”

“What do you mean?” Aelin asked.

“Why try so hard?” He asked, head cocked to the side. “Who are you trying to impress?”

Cocky bastard. She could see it in his eyes, he knew what he was doing and she hated him for it.

Hated that she loved it, anyway.

“What need would I have to impress anyone?” Aelin asked, chin raised. “I think I’m naturally perfect in every way.”

Rowan chuckled. “Then you should’ve come in your sweatpants and a tank top.”

Aelin rose a brow.

Rowan shrugged. “I think that’s when you’re sexiest.”

With that, with his cup pressed to his lips, he turned and walked away.

Aelin blinked after him, not sure she was sure she heard him right. He made his way through the people and headed back to the door leading out onto the balcony, stopping to say something to Lorcan. He waved him off and then Rowan was slipping back outside, while Aelin just started after him.

She pushed her way through the crowd, which was easier said than done when you weren’t a six-foot-four giant who mildly scared the shit out of everyone by scowling at them, but she eventually made it to the door. Sliding it open, she stepped out into the balmy night air.

“You can’t say shit like that and then just disappear,” Aelin said, finding him exactly how she’d expected to.

Rowan was leaned against the wall, the sole of one booted foot pressed against it as well. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers. She gave him shit about smoking all the time, but knew he only did it when he drank.

Or when he had something on his mind.

He held the cigarette out to her, but she gave him a look. “You know better than to offer me that.”

Rowan just grinned and put it back between his lips. “You’re missing the party.” 

“What did you mean?” Aelin asked, standing opposite of him, leaning against the railing. 

“When?” he asked, looking up at the sky.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rowan,” she snapped, and it got his attention. 

Blowing a puff of smoke into the cool night air, he met her gaze and slowly shook his head. He gestured to her outfit, to the heels that were making her feet ache. “What is this?”

“They’re clothes,” she said. “For a party.”

“They’re Lysandra’s,” he replied, simply. 

“I can’t wear my roommate’s clothes?” Aelin scoffed. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight-.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re just trying to impress someone?” he interrupted, watching her, that light in his eye fading. “You’ve never been not-confident a day in your life. Whoever it is that you’re trying to impress, he obviously isn’t worth it if it causes you to be someone you’re not.”

Aelin looked down at the cropped halter top, the skirt that hardly reached her thighs, the heels that she was certain would cause blisters. “This is someone I’m not?”

Rowan slowly shook his head. “Last time we went out, you wore that little golden slip dress….” He shook his head, reminiscing on the memory. “That was you. You wore sneakers and you were still barefoot halfway through the night, dancing on the patio. What you’re wearing now - yeah, you look gorgeous - but I can tell you’re not comfortable in it.” 

“If I’m trying to get someone’s attention, maybe my usual isn’t best. Especially if it pushes me out of my comfort zone,” she snapped back, her hands on her hips. “And why is it such a problem if I’m trying to impress someone? Dorian was impressed.”

“Dorian doesn’t drool all over you like a dog in heat,” he replied. “He respects you, regardless of what you’re wearing, how much skin you’re showing off. But if you’re trying to impress some D bag who will only notice you if you’re dressed like that, you might want to reconsider.”

“And what if I was trying to impress you?” She asked, getting in his face, cigarette smoke and whiskey breath be damned. “What if I was trying to get your attention, Rowan?”

His jaw locked and his eyes searched hers, as if he was trying to find the underlying meaning in what she was saying, even if there wasn’t one. 

“Then you’d be wasting your time,” he said, at last.

It felt like a knife had been shoved into Aelin’s ribs with every word that had come out of his mouth. Begging herself not to cry in front of him, she went to take a step away, but Rowan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him.

Their chests were nearly touching, and his hand trailed from her wrist, into her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.

He took the cigarette from his lips and said, “You’d be wasting your time because you impress me every time that I’m around you.”

“You never act like it,” she breathed, shaking her head. “You never do anything, and you’ve never tried to make a move. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”

He flicked the cigarette over the rail and let go of her hand, only to frame her face with both of his. “This.”

And then his lips were on hers, and Aelin didn’t care that she could taste residual smoke or stale beer. She knew she didn’t taste much better. All that mattered was that Rowan was kissing her and his hands were on her face and hers were tangled up in his shirt. His tongue slid against hers and she had to fight to stop the moan that threatened to slip out of her.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. “That,” he said, breathlessly. “That is what you should have done to get my attention.”

Aelin swallowed, harshly. “Do it again.”

Rowan didn’t have to be convinced. His hands slid down her back as he brought his mouth to hers, and he pulled her body uptight against his. They stayed out there for a long time, for hours, uninterrupted. 

At one point, she saw Dorian come by and lock the balcony door, so everyone else would get the hint to stay the hell away.

Wingman of the year.

They stayed on the balcony, kissing and laughing and kissing some more, until the party wound down. Around two, Lorcan let them inside, and Aelin pulled Rowan out of the apartment and across campus to her own. 

True to Lysandra’s word, she was nowhere to be found.

The second Aelin stepped into her apartment, she kicked off her heels and was swept into Rowan’s arms. He carried her into her bedroom, where he stripped her down, out of her roommate’s clothes.

Rowan Whitethorn saw all of her.

She had his full attention. 

[nikadoesanart]

Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

[skitter-kitter]

Cyrus

Anon I was gonna do a joke answer but you’ve just opened the floodgates. I’ve been obsessed with this man for so long and I’m gonna ramble about him at this fine 2 am

Okay so he has this whole mask of “I don’t care about anyone and I will abandon everyone” but there’s a lot that betrays that. Firstly, is his Crobat. It is a FRIENDSHIP EVOLUTION. He needs to have a very strong bond with it for it to evolve so he clearly cares about it in some way. He may not care for Team Galactic nearly as much (he clearly cares about them at least a little bit, which I’ll get into soon) but even in the meta of the game he has to care for his pokémon for it to evolve in the first place.

Then, there’s the matter of Team Galactic. He created in a matter of YEARS. He tried to end the world when he was twenty seven years old. Cyrus had a goal and he worked toward it TIRELESSLY, and considering he was more on the tech side with Charon his commanders were people he knew well BEFORE he became Galactic Leader Cyrus so there must be some level of care in that. He trusts them to do their jobs, and some part of their job ensures his own protection.

Cyrus cares a LOT but will never admit it. His ideals clash against his emotions so much that what he shows to the world ends up looking like an empty husk of a man. He looks emotionless but he’s anything but. He cares so much— so DEEPLY— that it ruins him. He wants to get rid of that connection, of that human spirit, to allow people to live more complete lives without pain or sorrow.

But one interesting thing about cyrus in the meta sense is that he has a different ending in every different version of him. In D/P he is arrested after summoning Dialga/Palkia and goes no further, but in Platinum he is stopped by Giratina. Cynthia goes in after him and stops him.

Though, in one of the short anime adaptations of the scene he ends up in the Distortion World alone and decides to stay. He decides that this— the Distortion World— is his perfect world.

Though, in the Diamond/Pearl anime that Cyrus creates a portal to his new world using Dialga and Palkia and refuses to let Team Galactic follow him into his new world. This is the only universe where he betrays their trust. He enters the portal right as it closes and it is assumed that he dies.

In the manga, Cyrus almost destroys the world but is redeemed. He dismantles Team Galactic, and ends up a better person in the end.

THEN in Pokémon Masters Ex Cyrus is brought from right before he was about to destroy the universe and he sets about trying to destroy Pasio. He bonds with Sophocles over a Rotom and through that connection ends up stopping his plan. The plotline ends with him roaming Pasio on his own, swearing that he won’t give up his dream.

I think it’s VERY interesting how each of these Cyrus’ have different endings and opportunities for them. In D/P games there is no one searching for Cyrus’s redemption, meanwhile in platinum, Masters, and the manga there is someone trying to help him on the path of redemption. I really like how there is no one true ending for Cyrus.

[souichieatr]

hiluuu! can i request a scenario/drabble for tsukishima, kuroo, oikawa, and akaashi where they're in a heated argument with their fem!s/o, then she suddenly faints? turns out she had a fever since the morning and hid it from them but got worse during their fight?

their s/o faints during a heated argument

with tsukishima k, kuroo t, oikawa t, akaashi k

a/n: thank you for requesting i hope you enjoy, im sorry this took forever?????? they get longer each one omg

tsukishima k

you don't even remember why you both are fighting, as he sips another insult your headache gets worse. as you don't say anything just raise your hand to your head he gets even more frustrated. "can you at least act like your age, ignoring me isn't going to resolve the issue." he says not noticing how your body starts to shuffle as you try and keep your balance. rolling his eyes turning to the door, "im not going to deal with this today-" before he can finish he hears a loud thud, turning around he sees your body on the floor. rushing to the floor next to you, "y/n?" bringing his hands up to your head, biting his lip cursing at himself in his head. picking up and lays you down in the bed as he gets water and a towel. when you wake up again you notice youre in bed, trying to sit up youre pushed back down. “don't do that, that wasn't cool” he says in a low tone, handing you a glass and some medicine. taking them both with a nod, “thank you kei and im sorry” you say handing the glass back to him, setting it down on the table he takes your hand. gently kissing the back of it and resting his head on your hand. “why are you on the floor?” you softly smile at him hearing a small ‘shut up.’

kuroo t

the fight started because he started to prioritize the volleyball team more than you. it didnt bother you that he stayed late, went early to practice, it didnt bother you until he started canceling plans with you. he told you repeatedly he would spend more time with you, today not being any different waiting in the rain in front of the cafe you both decided to eat at. not until 10 minutes had passed you went back to the school, walking to the gym with angry steps you opened the door roughly. the whole team looking at you soaking wet, frozen for a second he walks over to you. “y/n what are you doing here?” he says in an annoyed tone. “don't give me that bullshit tetsurō, we had plans today i waited for you to only be stood up again, are you even serious about this? us?” you say motioning your hand between him and you. rolling his eyes and he huffs, “can you stop being dramatic? im a captain this team needs me i didnt know you could be so selfish” widening your eyes at him, trying to catch your breath you close your eyes. “selfish? me selfish? you have some nerve i'll be leaving since i dont wanna bother the captain and his team” you say sarcastically, stepping back outside you start coughing. kuroo following behind you, “this conversation isn't done yet” he says grabbing your wrist, turning you around and his eyes widen. “y/n? you look pale are you okay?” he says as he does your eyes roll back and your legs give out. taking you in his arms he rushed inside asking the guys to grab towels to dry you off. sitting down on the floor with you in between his legs, he holds you close feeling guilty. feeling you stir awake he kisses your cheek, “im so sorry babe this is my fault, if i had just been there you wouldnt have been waiting in the rain” he says hugging you tighter. “im serious about us more than anything. i'll try harder to put more effort into our relationship. “i trust you tetsu and do you have any medicine? my heads killing me” you say smiling, he smiles and hands you a bottle of pills and a water.

oikawa t

sitting on the couch, rubbing your temples. “tooru can we please talk about this? youve been ignoring me all day” you say looking at him as he paces the room. “oh now you wanna talk? i thought you were too busy with iwa to notice me” he said stopping to look at you. “wow why are you so mad? what does iwaizumi have to do with this?” you say giving him a confused face as you rest your hand on the back of the couch. “y/n why dont you just date him huh? you obviously like him so much, why are you even with me?” he says getting louder each word. “literally what?” you saying this getting him more frustrated. sighing at those words he runs his hands through his hair, “i saw you both hugging if i knew you were just jumping my friends maybe i what've listened to all those girls.” “okay now what the actual fuck tooru? i can't hug a friend all of a sudden? did you just imply that i am cheating? i cannot believe you” you say feeling your anger bubble up, he opens his mouth to say something. “no no! because how dare you, you have girls all over you everywhere trying to take pictures and give you gifts, you expect me to worship the ground like they do dont you? guess what im not, you dont get to accuse me of cheating because i hugged someone that someone being your closest friend just what person do you take me as huh?” you say getting up fast, maybe too fast as the pounding in your head gets louder. leaning your weight on the couch as you continue, “me and iwaizumi share one simple goal and thats to keep your ass in line, all those late nights and you overworking yourself, you not coming to anyone for help and your bratty ass attitude hes the only one who'll help me deal with you, im not gonna let you blame him because all hes done is help you.” you say getting the strength to get closer to him as you try and take a step your legs falter. his initial reaction to everything you said had his eyes widened and mouth agape, seeing you almost fall sent him over to you trying to help. “no i can do i-” you say as you start to fall and everything goes black. opening your eyes slowly you feel something cool on your head, “hey youre up” a voice says softly. looking over to see tooru next to you as he grabs your hand, before you could say anything else he speaks up. “let me talk for a bit yeah?” he asks as he looks at your joined hands, whispering a soft “okay” he continues. “im sorry, im sorry for not noticing you weren't feeling good, im sorry for saying you cheated, im sorry for yelling, i just got insecure after i heard some girls talk about how cute you and iwa look and seeing you both hug like that just set me off” he says lifting your hands and kisses your knuckles. “i like how you dont worship the ground i step on, i like how you fight back but when i need you most youre always there. i appreciate everything you and iwa do, i love you y/n.” he finishes and looks at you with teary eyes, pulling him down into a hug you whisper “i love you too.”

akaashi k

now arguing with him isnt a normal thing, usually you both can speak calmly and work it out. he gets frustrated because you're not listening and he's been having a stressed week and just kinda blows up. sighing as he runs his hands through his hair, breathing in and out slowly trying to calm himself down. you roll your eyes, “keiji im fine can you just leave me alone, you dont have to treat me like a baby- '' before you could finish he lets out a small mocking laugh. “i wouldnt treat you like one if you didnt act like one, y/n grow up and take some responsibility so /i/ dont have to be the bad guy, the stressed one, the one who has to take care of you.” staring at him with wide eyes he continues, “you wanted me to stop treating you like a baby stop looking so shocked.” you feel a tickle in your throat, trying to hold it in hoping if youre quiet enough you could sneak away. ultimately failing and having a coughing fit you feel your legs get wobbly. “were you trying to hold it in? so childish” he says looking away about to walk off, turning his head to look at you before he walks away he sees your eyes roll back. you wake up on the couch with a wet towel and a blanket on you, slowly sitting up and looking towards the kitchen you see akaashi quietly making you food. looking back at the table you see a glass and some medicine. taking the items and washing them down alerted akaashi to you being awake, rushing to you he looks down at his hands as he picks at them. “how are you feeling?” he asks quietly, you answer with a quick “fine.” sitting on the side of the couch he faces you, “im sorry theres really no excuse for the way i acted i just i hate seeing you trying to be okay when youre not.” scooting closer you rest your head on his shoulder, “if what its worth i like when you baby me” smiling at you he kisses your forehead. “i'll remember that.”

not proofread

[beigehearts]

All right it is time- drabbles about the yandere adult trio and how they kidnap you

I reblogged something about this- yandere content is not really reader friendly- it is fun to read for some people but for some people it is triggering- please don’t read if it’s not suited for you: each part will have it’s own word count This is a fem!reader- if you would like me to write a different one please let me know

CW: kidnap, alcohol consumption, drugs, physical abuse, needles, language

Hisoka 1,172 words

It’s a quiet night in your small town. Here, everyone knows everyone and there are no such things as secrets. There’s the lightest of drizzles on this cloudy, chilly night. The bar is almost barren except for you and a group of your friends. Even the bar tenders are your friends. Everyone is emptying glasses and telling lame funny stories that you’ve all heard before but still enjoy listening to.

Your body is warm, alcohol running through your veins. You shrug off your jacket, and place it on the coat rack at the entrance. Before you can even turn around someone latches onto your arm. A smile greets your face when you see your friend holding your arm.

“Come on y/n! Danny and Vanessa are making jello shots!” Danny and Vanesa are the bar tenders, they brought jello packets with them knowing it would just be this group of friends here tonight. Your friend clinging to you, Ashley, drags you back to the bar as if you had been protesting, which you definitely were not. The jello shots are poorly made and are more like water with jello packet flakes in it. Though none of you seem to care, taste is not the goal here.

It’s a long night, the clock strikes 1:30 am and Vanessa waves her arm in the air, “Alright kiddos, it’s time to close shop. Get out of here- be safe!” 

All of your friends call out and thank her, and everyone puts on their coat and does as Vanessa says. The slight breeze and cold droplets sends a shiver down your spine and you hold your coat closer to you. You can barely make out the moon through the clouds, but your attention is taken by a large breeze and your friend yelps out. 

“Let’s go! I’m cold! Who’s house?” Ashley asks. Usually all of you sleepover at each other’s houses after a night of drinking, the group collectively decides on going to the closest person’s home. Tido groans when hearing this, knowing that it’ll be his house.

The group all huddles and scampers towards his house, trying to conserve warmth. A blast of hot air hits you when you step inside, and everyone sighs with relief at the warmth. 

Tido turns towards everyone and points at you all, “It’s bed time dumbasses. No more drinking, I’m tired. If a single one of you wakes me up there will be hell to pay.”

You chuckle and nod, “Just go to bed Tido, we’ll be quiet.” Tido trusts you the most out of the group so he doesn’t protest, he sends you a spiteful look and stomps away to his room. He can be such a handful. Though you managed to get your friends to quiet down and speak quietly before they passed out. 

The house is quiet. The only sounds are the quiet snores and shuffling of your friends. You’ve been laying at the couch staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. Eventually you get up and go to the kitchen. When with your friends you find it hard to sleep, some motherly instinct coming over you and making you alert. 

You know where Tido keeps his stash, you’re the only one of your friends who knows where it is. He told you where it is for nights like these. You open the cabinet, and grab a sugar jar from the back of it. When you open it the smell assaults your senses, you grab the ziploc bag and put the jar back. Once you’re sitting outside on his back porch, you roll it nice and neatly, and you can’t help but smile at your handy work. 

It hits your drunk body quite quickly, and you move to the rocking chair and cover up with a blanket. You turn your head when you hear the back door open, and see Tido’s head pop outside. “I thought I smelled something.” He says and closes the door behind him. There’s a swing on the porch and he plops down on it, and the beckons for the joint. You hand it over and he takes a deep inhale, holding it for a while before exhaling. 

He pats the seat next to him and you sit next to him, pulling your knees up into your chest. 

The next hour or so is spent philosophizing and staring out into the woods of his backyard. Your head feels like a fishbowl, the fish being your brain. Eventually it goes quiet. Tido throws his arms back, wrapping one around your shoulders. 

“Y/n.” He points into the forest, “I can’t look at those trees anymore, they’re just staring back at me.” He huffs and looks at you, his eyes finding your lips and slowly moving up to your eyes. “I’m going to bed. You should do the same.” 

You nod and he stands up, “Just remember to lock the door before you go to sleep.” He adds. He seems somewhat awkward standing there and you can’t help but laugh, his usual confident personality façade always disappears when he’s around you. 

A cough escapes his throat and he mumbles, “Goodnight y/n, go to bed soon okay?” He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You hum and return it, these small nights you spend with him always end like this. You’re just waiting for him to actually take you out somewhere else than his back porch. 

He shuffles inside and you watch until the door closes. You aren’t quite sure about your feelings for Tido, but it’s not too concerning at the moment. You enjoy your time with him, and enjoy your kisses, that’s enough for you. 

Maybe you should go home... You can always fall asleep in your own bed. Yeah that sounds good. Usually Tido walks you home at this time of the night but he’s already gone to bed and you don’t want to disturb his beauty sleep. Even though he probably wouldn’t mind much. 

You grab all of your things and put on your coat and shoes, you take one last glance at your friends and smile. They would understand, you’ve done this before. 

It’s only colder, the breeze only blowing harder. When you check your phone it’s 4:17 am. Good thing you don’t have work or classes tomorrow. There’s no way you’ll be able to wake up until 2 pm. Even though it’s cold and breezy, it’s a nice walk, you walk into the town and look around at the shops. You’ve passed them millions of times but they always look different when you’re high. Though you’re not that high anymore. The only light illuminating the streets are the street lamps, well the ones that actually still work. You don’t bother avoiding the puddles, stepping in them and your feet become wet. It’s no longer raining but you can still smell it in the air. 

The town is always so nice when it’s quiet, it’s so serene and surreal. Your steps come to slow halt when you see someone standing on the sidewalk a few yards ahead of you. You can’t make out their face, but they’re tall, really tall. You squint and try to see if it’s someone you know. After all, everyone knows each other here. Is that... Tasha? No, Jordan? Your guessing is cut short when he begins walking towards you. 

Soon enough you come face to face, you tilt your head up and can barely make out his features in this light. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Your voice echoes around the street. 

He’s chuckling, and it turns into a full out maniacal laugh. Once he gathers himself he wipes a tear from his eye. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to talk to strangers?” His hand lays heavily on your shoulder, “It’s not safe to be intoxicated in public you know.” He brings his head towards your neck, pressing his nose against your bare skin, “It seems my pet has been smoking too.” 

You push him away with all your strength, your slow head still processing what’s happening. He frowns and you have no time to react when a hand wraps around your neck, and pushes you against the brick wall of the store. You groan, your head pounding now and when you try to gasp in air you can’t the wind has been knocked out of you. 

His lips meet your ear and you can’t fight back, as you’re still fighting for air. “You’ve been playing around with other boys. Are you trying to make me jealous?” He breathes in you scent, and a hand grabs your hip. Finally you manage to breathe in some air but by the time you’re ready to fight back he tightens his grip on your throat, making it hard to breathe again. “Don’t you think it’s mean to mess with a man’s emotions?” 

Gasps, that’s all you can manage, you’re gasping but can’t catch your breath. Your vision begins going black, becoming fuzzy and blurry. Your eyes start to roll back in your head, but right before you lose consciousness, you fall to the ground. 

“Oh pet, what ever am I going to do with you?” 

Your throat aches and your lungs burn, you’re left on the ground in fetal position, sucking in as much air as possible. But you don’t get a break, your hand that lays against the concrete of the sidewalk take away all the pain of your lungs. His shoe digs into your hand, and he moves his foot side to side, rubbing your hand against the ground, until you see tracks of blood following your hand. You scream out but it only gets worse. He lifts his foot and before you can retract your hand, stomps on your fingers. Your screeches can be heard by no one but this man and to him they mean nothing. 

You bring your hand to your chest and cradle it, 3 of 4 fingers are broken, and most of the skin has been rubbed raw, and blood makes it hard to see your wounds. 

“See what happens when you’re not a good girl?” You don’t answer, more focused on your hand. The pain is so intense, it burns it stings it aches it’s so painful. 

A hand grabs your hair, and you yelp when he holds you up by it. His face gets close to yours and he whispers, “But it’s okay, I’ll help you.” He lets go of your hair and your head falls, slamming against the concrete. Your vision goes dark and the last thing your hear is, 

“Oh you’re so pitiful y/n.” 

Illumi 1,133 words

You’re lucky to be surrounded by friends who give you hours and hours of laughter every day. Each day with your friends is a blessing, and each moment is a miracle. Life is good, you go to work everyday, working at a local daycare in the busiest part of town. The children all love you, and some even cry when they have to leave. You spend your days reading books to kids, and giving bottles to babies. Though the diaper part of the job isn’t the best. 

It’s 6 pm, and the last girl to be picked up is sitting on your lap as you have an insightful conversation. 

“So that’s how I know,” She throws her arms into the air and giggles, “that zebras are white and black!”

Her logic may be flawed but she makes a good point, “I had no idea!” You exclaim. 

The familiar ring of the door opening sounds out and the little girl jumps from your lap and to the gate separating the children from the front desk area. She shakes the gate and yells, “Mommy!” 

A tired looking woman who you see every day gives you a weak smile and picks up her daughter from the other side of the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.” You wave at the little girl who waves back as her mother carries her out of the building.

As much as you enjoy your job, it gets really tiring. You let out a sigh and stand up, all that’s left is to clean up and lock up. Your co worker who was spending her time cleaning a mess in the bathroom looks more than disgusted when she comes out with gloves on and a bucket. 

“Did you even know that kids can produce that much?!” You laugh at her comment and she shoots you an evil look. 

The toys are put back into bins and the plastic chairs are tucked back into the plastic table of the kid’s room. You put away bottles and lost binkys from the baby room, and lock up all the first aid stuff in a cabinet. Looks like that’s the day. Your co worker already left, you thought you might as well give her a break since she did have to clean the bathroom. 

It’s 8 pm by the time you’re turning off the lights and locking the front doors. The last mother actually picked up her daughter much earlier than usual, the town is still bustling. Why not do a little window shopping? 

You walk around the streets, looking at clothing and other things, occasionally going in and touching things. Now that you think about it though, you have been wanting to get a dress. Your birthday is coming up and your friends are taking you somewhere nice, they won’t tell you where.

There’s a nice shop only a block away that has really cute dresses that aren’t too expensive. You step inside and look around. They have summer dresses, daily dresses, prom dresses, and formal dresses. If you had to guess, getting a formal but cute dress is probably what your friends expect. Eventually you find the dress you want, a black open back dress that hangs loosely at your waist and stops a little above your knees. You pay for the dress, owing a grand total of $68, cheap for a dress in this town. 

Eventually you make your way home, you kick off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You’re exhausted but you really should eat something before you go to bed. You grab a hot pocket, not really feeling like making a home cooked meal. Before you put it in the microwave, you turn on the tv and put on a show you’ve been watching. 

Once the hot pocket is in the microwave, you press a few buttons and listen to its mechanical whir. What a day, you lean against your fridge and close your eyes, you could fall asleep right here quite honestly. You peel your eyes open when you hear your tv turn off. 

Huh? You look around your unlit apartment and don’t see anything, maybe it just glitched out. You couldn’t really care less at the mom-

Something whizzes past your face, and strikes your microwave. The microwave turns off and quickly you jump up from your leaning position and look at it. There’s a needle lodged in the door of the microwave. You turn around and go wide eyed when you see someone standing in your living room. 

“Ah, I missed.” He says in a nonchalant tone. You look around for a weapon, going to reach for a knife but stop when a hand grabs your wrist. “Don’t bother y/n. It’s futile.” How did he move so quickly, how did he get around the counter so quickly?!

“What do you want? You can take my wallet, take what you want.” You try to keep a cool tone but your voice still shakes and cracks. 

His grip tightens on your wrist and you wince. “You can make this easier for yourself and just give up.” 

You shake your head and try to kick him, but he grabs your knee and pushes you against the counter. He’s holding one of your legs to your chest and using the other to hold your wrist. “Will you go willingly or not?” 

You struggle against his grip and with your free hand try to look around to grab something on the counter behind you. “What do you want?!” You yell out. 

You find a glass and swing your arm to break it against his head but he drops your knee and grabs your forearm so tightly that you screech and drop the glass, it shattering on the floor.

“If I tell you will you calm down?” He presses his body against yours, holding both of your wrists so you can’t attack him. “You are the perfect subject to be my wife and future mother of my kids.” 

Tears stream down your face and you shake your head violently, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m not going to be your wife!” 

He sighs and tilts his head backwards some. You notice just how long his hair is when he does so. 

“I tried to make this easier for you y/n.” He moves both of your wrists to one hand and uses his other hand to grab something from his jacket. He pulls a needle out of his shoulder and sobs begin to rack your body. Who is he? Why is he doing this? What the hell is going on? 

He puts the point of the needle against your forehead and you begin to feel woozy, “You’ll learn in time.” Are the last words you hear before everything goes black.

Chrollo 945 words

After your upsetting break up with your ex a few months ago, your friends decided they had enough of your complaining and signed you up for online dating. You’ve talked to so many people on these apps and yet all of them just don’t do it for you. 

But you began talking to one man and it just clicked. He was so kind and respectful and knew when to say what. The both of you had many text conversations, and he finally asked you out on a date. You are going to meet at a very nice restaurant on the outskirts of town. All of your friends were ecstatic to hear that you would finally go on another date.

They really don’t want you to fuck it up, so a few of your friends came over to help you get ready. It was like clockwork, the put you in one outfit and then rip it off to put on another one. The process is more exhausting than the date will be. Eventually the three of you decide on an outfit. Skin tight pleather pants and a frilly blouse that looks Victorian almost, and some nice short boots with a big heel. After the hour of finding the right outfit, they sit you down on your bed and do your makeup. Quite honestly they did a good job- but you wouldn’t admit it to their egotistical asses. 

“You’re gorgeous!” Rose says. You roll your eyes and give yourself one last look in the mirror, admiring yourself for a moment. Shannon hugs you from behind and giggles, “Our girl is finally dating again!” You have to pry her off of you just so you can get out of your room, knowing you’ll be late if you stick around with these two. 

As you get in the car Shannon and Rose wave at you from the front door and Rose yells, “Our girl is growing up!” Shannon follows up with, “Don’t fuck it up y/n!” How very helpful

The taxi driver confirms your destination and then you’re off. You look through your most recent texts one more time, just because.

Him 9 PM at the Cavern on the south side of town

Me Alright! See you soon 

Him I can’t wait

After the twenty minute drive, you step out of the taxi and stretch your arms in the air. You look down at your phone and see that you’re two minutes late. Oh no, late on your first date? That definitely doesn’t give off a good impression. You rush inside and give the name of your date to the woman at the front and she leads you to a table in the back. 

He stands up from his seat, and he’s much more handsome than you were expecting. His black hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a suit and tie. There’s a cloth wrapped around his forehead but you aren’t given much time to think about it when he approaches you. He kisses your cheek and then pulls out your chair. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I feel so bad. Did you wait long?” You voice and he shakes his head.

“Don’t be, I didn’t wait long.” You let out a small sigh at his words and sit down, thanking him. He pushes in your chair and returns to his own.

You smile as he pours you a glass of wine, “It’s so nice to finally meet you Chrollo.” 

“Same here. I was worried I might be catfished.” He chuckles and his eyes meet yours as he hands you a glass. He’s just so captivating, you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’re left gazing at his face when he clears his throat, “So tell me, how did you get here?”

You snap out of it and shake your head a little, “Oh, I took a taxi. I wasn’t sure if we would be drinking or not.” 

He sips his wine and you copy his action. His smile is just absolutely captivating. “I’d be lying if I said I weren’t a little anxious about tonight.”

“Oh why?” You ask. 

“You just seemed so wonderful on text that you seemed too good to be true.” He looks down at his wine, “But I guess it is true.”

Dinner is quite nice, you’re just so relaxed with him and he is fascinating. He knows so much and he could talk for hours and you would listen without saying anything. 

After the both of you finish the bottle of wine, you decide it’s time to go home. You wrap your arm around his and the both of you walk outside, and the alcohol seems to be catching up with you. Though you really didn’t drink much. 

The both of you walk to his car and talk there for a while. 

“I’m gonna call a cab. Do you mind waiting with me?” You ask him. 

He smiles sweetly, “Of course not.” You call for a cab and they tell you that they will be there in five minutes. 

The alcohol is really catching up to you. He asks you if you’re okay but your lips feel numb and you can only mutter what resembles words. Your knees start to feel weak until the buckle underneath you, and he catches you. You try to say something, move, anything, but your head is swimming and you can’t form any words. 

He shushes you, and pets your hair while holding you up. “You’re alright.” He kisses your forehead and opens up his back door, laying you gently on the seat. Before he closes the door he says,

“Come on honey, let’s go home.”

[oftenderweapons]

Hi!! I need to not forget to leave this idea with a trusted author so I’ve chosen to slide into ur asks w this very nsfw thing: Joon using a dick pump and vixen using a pussy pump. Simultaneously. Then having sex. That is all! I just wanted to share this with someone that could find use of it 😭

Hello, it's officially Joonsday and we're big time celebrating (sorry for the ugly banner I'm on a road trip with the fam) lessgooooooo

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (Vixen)

Wordcount: 3.5k words

Genre: smut? Pwp? Established relationship? Yes.

Warning: 18+ y'all better be adults if you're going to read this.

Trigger warnings: clearly, swearing, dick pump, pussy pump, vibrating cockring (it's becoming quite the thing for these two???) cumplay (he cums on her chest), creampie, unprotected sex (use CONDOMS PLEASE), DDLG (daddy) kink, making out, touch deprivation (? Kinda?), experimenting, mentions of oral, mentions of exhibitionism/voyeurism.

Here's my masterlist and enjoy 💜✨

Beta read by the one and only super patient golden-hearted wife, @joheunsaram

******

It was past nine pm when Namjoon entered the apartment, his eyes immediately focusing on your frame curled up on the sofa, under your chunky knit blanket. He needed to get you a pet.

You loved Moni, but he couldn't have him at his place that often since he was more of his family's dog than his.

He should get you something fluffy. Something that matched your personality. Like a toy poodle. Or a corgi.

No, a corgi wasn't fluffy enough…

He was sure he would find something suitable in a shelter. Maybe a cat? Something to keep you company.

Tutting, he shook his head as his mind wandered, trying to distract him from the panic he had been going through only a couple minutes ago. He reminded himself his current anxiety was due to surprising you with an unexpected gift, so he realised that launching himself into planning another surprise — a permanent one — was maybe not the smartest move.

Kneeling beside you, he touched his lips to your temple. “Hello, Vixen,” he spoke gently, his private voice making your eyes open, your arm reaching out of the blanket to hold him to yourself.

“Hi, baby. Did you eat? Tell me they fed you.”

He smiled. “Yeah. I grabbed dinner with Yoongi in the studio.”

You nodded and nuzzled up closer, kissing his neck sensually. “Wake me up?”

He chuckled. “Needy, baby?”

You nodded and frowned. “I'm getting my period in two days. You know I get needy.”

His knowing smile shifted to a loving one. “I know.” He looked at your face for a couple seconds, just taking in every detail. The fullness of your lips and the slight blush on your cheeks, the way you looked puffy after sleep, so soft and delicate and all his.

Oh so his.

Not falling into your temptation was almost a crime. Especially as you stretched your neck, lips lingering just one millimeter away from his.

“Ask, love.” His voice was gravelly against your face.

You looked away and relaxed your shoulders, not realising you had arched up towards him. In return he chuckled and ran the tip of his nose against your cheek. “You don’t like asking, mh?” His lips were velvety against your cheekbone. “Poor little fox.” You turned just in time for his mouth to meet yours, letting him have your sweetest whimper as his hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you. “I have a question for you, babylove.”

You stopped and backed an inch, looking him in the eye. “What kind of question?”

He sat up straight. “It makes me a bit nervous because this is not how we do it normally and… I feel like I went someplace uncharted without you and I’m a bit disoriented.”

You sat up too, feeling the nerves in his tone as he started talking faster, stuttering over his words a little.

“I… We usually shop together but I wanted to try this and I thought… I mean, we don’t have to do this and we can do this alone, or together, or… Or not do this at all or you can use this while I’m away and you need—”

“Joon,” you interrupted him, a hand on his shoulder as you tried to calm him down. “Hold on a second, darling.”

He shut his mouth and took a deep breath through his nose.

“You were shopping, correct?” you asked, trying to find reason in madness. He nodded. “What did you get? Toys, I assume?”

“Yes,” he replied calmly.

“Okay. Show me and then we can talk this out if you’d like.” You knew Namjoon’s brain tended to go a thousand miles a second, so you tried to limit the damage.

He stood and came back with a large box and scissors, opening the package. “It’s kinda scary at the beginning but… I think the final result is not that bad.”

“If that’s a furry mask I’m gonna scream and not in a good way,” you joked, trying to ease away the tension.

“Come on, we discussed that already. Hard no. No shaming, though.”

“No shaming,” you repeated, watching him open the lid and take another box out. “Oh my god.”

He looked at you, trying to interpret your reaction. “Good? Bad? Maybe?”

“Why would you make it… bigger? How do you even think I can handle bigger?” You stared at the… the thing and tried to wrap your brain around that.

“It’s not about getting bigger, it’s about lasting more.”

“We have cockrings for that!” you exclaimed, almost outraged. If anything perplexed and worried. Was he trying to break you? Send you to the ER? Because you much preferred saving yourself the embarrassment. “You’re gonna break me.”

He nodded and put the box away. “Okay, sorry.” He wasn’t even disappointed. After all he did know you were a tight fit on him and no matter how much he would stretch you, there were high chances of you getting hurt, and he obviously didn’t want that.

“No, no hold on,” you said as you realised your first reaction had been fear. “We can do that. Just not… Let’s say we can use that but the final goal is not penetration.”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too. Plus, we could use that ring for buffering.”

“Yes,” you agreed. “And that should make you feel like… Like I’m sucking all of you, right?”

Namjoon halted for a second. “I don’t know, but that wouldn’t be the point.” He still remembered that one time you had almost had a breakdown because you couldn’t take more than a couple inches of him in your mouth. Since then, he had set the lowest bar in your sex life: not making you cry because you couldn’t deepthroat him. Somehow he was still traumatised by the memory. “It’s just a matter of giving you multiples, Vixen. Just that, Or fucking you feral, however you prefer to put it.”

You nodded.

“Plus it’s more of a… joined fantasy, actually,” he confessed, blushing and looking down.

So there were more surprises in that box. “Define?”

He took one more box out of the larger one. “It looks scarier than it is. It’s also, sort of… convoluted.”

You stared at the second toy, arching an eyebrow at it. “I don’t like things that keep your hands off me.”

“I know,” he reassured you, immediately touching your knee as a way to comfort you. “I know it, babylove. But this doesn’t mean my hands won’t be touching your body.”

Absentmindedly you nodded. “You want to try those now?”

He tipped his head from side to side in a so-and-so motion. “Only if you want to. We can wait till you get more acquainted with the idea.”

You thought about it for a second. “Those… devices technically mean no foreplay.”

“Well, they do the foreplay while we…” He hadn’t thought that far.

“We’ll just make out,” you said, standing up and grabbing your half of the kit. “Let’s take them out and wash them.”

Namjoon grabbed the other half and followed you. In your bathroom, you took out the toys, quickly scanning the instructions while he threw himself at his new object of interest, grabbing the toy soap and lathering everything in foam. “No reading?”

“It’s pretty easy,” he replied, rubbing everything thoroughly before rinsing and drying the tube. “I’ll read while I wait for you.”

He let the toy dry on the ledge and undressed, by now barely shy about walking around naked as he entered the shower and scrubbed himself clean with quick, brief strokes. In a bunch of minutes, you were sitting on the bed, reading the instructions of his device before he rolled down beside you, a towel around his waist. You were lounging in your panties and one of his shirts, his face already skimming the side of your thigh. “Come down here, miss Fox. Studying won’t get you straight As in this one.”

You chuckled and grabbed some lube. “Will you allow me the honour?”

Namjoon licked his lip and undid his towel, arching an eyebrow as he realised he already had a semi.

“Is it for the toy or the ‘fucking the class’s best student’ fantasy?” you teased him, pouring some cold lubricant on him in revenge.

“It’s all about having the sexiest girlfriend in the universe,” he flattered you, his hand squeezing your ass as you straddled him and grabbed the toy.

“You know you’re crazy for this, right?”

He nodded. “That makes two of us since you’re playing along.”

“Suck your dick,” you replied, saccharine sweet as you placed his cock into the plastic tube of the penis pump.

“Not when you’re so much better at that,” he cooed back, hissing a little once you pressed the base against his pelvis excessively hard — call it revenge. You studied the mechanism for starting to increase the pressure inside the cylinder. “Okay, fuck, it’s hot. I love the lube. Slippery.”

You appreciated the feedback. “Tighter?”

“Nah, hold on. We can tighten it later.” He bit his lip. “It’s very good. But… A bit cold.”

You stretched to his face and pushed his hair back. “I’ll warm it up next time. Sorry baby.” You kissed his lips, pampering him a little. He had looked so stressed earlier. And so eager too. He had to be both worried and excited about this. “My big bear,” you murmured, watching him melt for you. After all he was nothing but a tough looking boy with a gooey heart. “You were so nervous about this, huh?”

He nodded and caught your hand, holding it in his. “I love you,” he said with his million dollar smile, his eyes dreamy, his dimple shining on his face.

“I love you too, Joonie bear,” you murmured at him, your affection causing him to slip into the most peaceful of states. Yes, he felt like his dick was being squeezed and sucked, but he mostly felt entirely enamoured with you.

“Please, can you wear the toy too?”

You smiled and nodded. “Would you like to help?”

He stretched to kiss you again. He wanted more kisses. It had been so long since the two of you just made out and he missed that sometimes, just the intimacy of laying side by side, making out without things necessarily heating up. Of course he also loved when you got on top of him mid-session and ground on his thigh until you crumbled against his shoulder.

He loved even more when your hand would graze his lower belly before tracing his erection through his trousers, cupping him and squeezing him until he needed your hand on his length.

But the idea of laying side by side and focusing solely on your face was something too inviting for that night.

He sat up, a bit uncomfortable at the thing between his legs. “This makes it kinda hard to move,” he realised before finding your pvc cup. “Get comfy, my love,” he murmured before kissing your knee, crawling lower. Your legs stayed closed as you placed your feet on his thighs before getting rid of your shirt, letting him stare at the hardened peaks of your breasts. “You're so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his hands tracing the outside of your thighs, his frame shifting and stretching until he could reach for your chest, his thumbs feeling your pebbled nipples.

That was before you put the sole of your foot around his neck, pushing him back a little.

He was mesmerised by the gesture, feeling his brain short circuit as arousal hit him.

Now that he was far enough, you lifted your legs and quickly got rid of your panties, Namjoon barely resisting the need to press his whole face against your folds.

“Feisty,” he murmured, placing the toy on you, checking for your reaction. “Does it fit right?”

You nodded. “I'm tiny, it takes a bit more than it should but that's okay as long as it doesn't come off.”

He started pumping some pressure, still looking at your face to spot any discomfort.

“I think that's tight enough for now.”

He nodded and laid down beside you. “You wanna watch porn?”

You thought about it for a second. “Nah.” You rolled to the side, only to feel the toy limit your comfort.

“Maybe a pillow will help?” he mused, passing it to you.

“It feels strange. Static. Dry… Aseptic.”

He nodded. “Not a great feeling.” He also placed a pillow between his knees before cupping the back of your head and scooting closer to you. “Hi,” he whispered, breaking into a large smile.

“Hi,” you whispered back, joining your lips.

You didn't know how long you kissed, only that his hands were everywhere, rubbing your back, on your ass, pulling you closer, then pushing you back a little as he tried to massage your breasts, next tightening the pressure on your pussy pump.

“This good?” he asked, his lips already kissing the sweet spot below your ear. It made you purr and try to throw your leg over his, realising a minute too late that you couldn’t grind on him.

You made a disappointed little sound, Namjoon’s hands cupping your face and smoothening the frown on your brow with his thumbs. “It’s okay, little fox. Focus on me, babylove.”

With the most vulnerable expression, you brushed your lips to his as the tip of your nose played with his, his face glowing with a sudden bright smile before he drew a line of tiny smooches from your forehead to your chin. “I know, baby.”

“I don’t like this,” you whined, hiding your face into his neck. “I can’t feel you.”

He held you closer. “Would you like to take it off?” His hands were skimming every inch of your naked skin, soothing you.

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” you mewled weakly, feeling ashamed of the statement.

“You’re not disappointing me, ____. We’re doing this to know if we like it, my angel.” He caressed your hair.

“I can do this, I just need to get used to the lack of touching.”

“I know it’s a delicate topic for you. You can take it off and grind on me if you want,” he reassured you.

You found his pump mechanism and asked, “Do you want it tighter?”

He hummed and nodded.

You didn’t last much longer after that, mostly because Namjoon knew he was tiptoeing around a soft limit of yours and he could feel you were already vulnerable. He knew a couple tears would come after your orgasm, your body too emotionally challenged for you not to release all the tension in crying.

“Let’s take this off,” he whispered into your ear, the pressure on him too tight, almost unbearable after fifteen minutes with the pump on, three of which on the highest setting. He would make a mess of you. He knew it already. “I'm gonna cum a lot,” he said with a half-embarrassed chuckle.

“Is that an issue?” you mused, blocking his hand as he tried to remove your pump. “I… I want you to cum on me.” It was easier to say after all this time. He was almost used to it. The following request however was unusual. “On my chest.”

He nodded. “Are you sure?”

“I want you to distract me. I want to keep the toy, just distract me from it.” You bat your lashes at him. “Please.”

In his mind, he had opposed your idea for maybe half a second. “Okay. But I want you to use your safeword if need be.”

After he ascertained you remembered it, he waited for your approval on him straddling your waist, your hands immediately touching him, starting from the base and pulling to the tip, a thick blob of precum helping you as both your palms started massaging him.

“You’re so damn good at this,” he praised you. “You’re such a good girl to me.”

You glowed at the compliment, starting to stroke him more powerfully. “Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome, little one,” he replied sweetly before a grunt left his lips, his body waving a little before he propped himself up with one hand. “If you keep it up, I’ll be covering your tits in cum in seconds, Vixen.”

“Isn’t that our goal?” you asked with faux naivety, noticing the way he was starting to swell.

While you angled his cock downwards, to your stomach, he placed a hand under your jaw. He wouldn’t want your face to get accidentally dirty. That was the last conscious act he did before he felt his balls tighten a bit more than earlier, a strong spurt of his semen landing on your neck, the second one between your breasts, and then a third on your left breast, your nipple peaked and glazed in his cum as he slowly came down from an unstoppable high.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said again, truly thankful for the vision of him braced over you, completely ecstatic, head thrown back as he roared in pleasure, his throat beautifully exposed.

Too bad you couldn’t put your mouth on it.

It took him a full minute to come back to reality, and when he did, he inevitably noticed that he was still hard and you were still unbelievably horny right below him.

“Joon?” you called.

“Yes, Vixen?”

“Do you think you can slip your cock inside me and make me cum with a vibrator on my clit?” Your request was posed curtly, efficiently, almost as if you were asking him how a telescope works.

He rose from his half slumber at that. “Sure about the vibrator?”

You nodded. “The mild one, you know. The one from your ring.”

He thought about it for a millisecond before kissing your forehead. “You’re a blessing”. He thought it even more as a cascade of chuckles left your mouth. He took off your pump, a tiny bit distracted by the need to suck on your wet nipple, to draw a hickey where your neck had been stained by his orgasm. Next he slipped in, slowly, whimpering at the way your cunt was soaked and puffy and full. “You feel so fucking incredible?”

“Different from usual?” you wondered, a tiny gasp leaving your mouth as he settled.

“Just very sensitive. Like round three at six in the morning,” he explained, you humming in understanding.

“It feels a bit like that actually, now that I think of it.” You laid back while he pressed the tip of the vibrator to your chest, collecting some slickness before bringing the toy to your clit and switching it on.

Your reaction was immediate. “I am sensitive,” you exclaimed before squealing, your inner walls contracting and Namjoon shifting a little. It was the combo of fullness and clitoral stimulation that made you come apart in three minutes. And then again, five minutes later.

Namjoon was shocked. After the second orgasm, he just pulled out and wore the ring, fucking you in earnest. Your usually difficult third high rolled around like nothing, Namjoon reaching his climax together with you.

He thought he was done but apparently not yet, his back on the mattress while you ground on him, taking a pause from the vibrations before placing them on the highest setting and riding him, sliding back and forth. You knew he preferred it when you bounced, but his hands led you on a rolling motion until you collapsed forward, too exhausted to cry out, just shivering in his arms, trembling as your muscles succumbed in fatigue.

“Goodness,” you exhaled once all toys were out of the picture, your body laying on top of Namjoon’s while you slipped his cock back inside you, enjoying the easy connection coming from the gesture.

“What a night,” he agreed. You were both sticky and needed a shower, but first he needed to make sure you were okay emotionally. And cockwarming was specifically what you both needed. “How are you?”

“Tired,” you replied straight away. “Very fucking in love with you.”

“Language,” he reminded you before holding you closer. The shivering wasn’t stopping.

“Let’s take a bath, mh? You’re shivering. You need to relax.” He rubbed your back energetically before massaging your thighs. “You did amazing, babylove.” He cuddled you some more, staying quiet for a minute before asking, “Do you still not like the toys?”

You shrugged. “Can we talk about that later? I’m not ready yet,” you replied, still too biased about the experience to give judgement.

He nodded. “Sure thing, little fox. Come on, to the bathroom.”

“To the bathroom,” you agreed with a yawn.

Namjoon smiled. He loved aftercare baths. But he loved you more.

[unknowconcreteflower-art-blog-me]

Why Husker will be the driving force to save Angel Dust; Instagram deep-dive story! Angelhusk explained.

Okay full disclosure Hazbin Hotel is an adult cartoon has dark touchy subject matter so please tread carefully. This goes into shipper territory and I don’t want to get attack in my inbox about this or attacking each other too much shipping wars plus I’m a multi-shipper... But for the sake of this post it’s going to be all fuel Angelhusk (or Huskerdust), yes okay great thank you. This is a continuation of my previous post which was just a prequel to this one. I ended the post saying Husker will be the one to reach out to Angel and helping him. 

First I’ll be breaking down Husker’s first appearance and how his character is. When Alastor first summons him, he’s very pissed off when he’s pulled from the poker game. And he’s very quick show his anger, without fear despite Alastor being “one of the most powerful demons in Hell”, and does not care. Though this is a very short interaction we know that Husker does not put up with BS, he’s a drinker, and a poker player. How is this important to Angel Dust? Well Angel Dust, often hypes himself up but also tears himself down in the process, emphasizing that during the limo ride after being scolded by Vaggie that “his body is flawless, everybody wants a piece”... and thinks that’s all anybody wants from him. This is Angel’s way of protecting himself; he flirts with them first before they can hurt him, it’s just hidden with his confidence.

In reality he thinks everyone looks down on him, which is why he doesn’t accept help or confine in Charlie (like when he flipped her off )he isn’t taking a pity party. Angel hides his pain with vibrato and at the same time is too prideful to ask for help... he won’t admit when he’s in trouble. I explained this a little more in detail in my previous post why he thinks Charlie and Vaggie look down on him. But with Husker he in the same boat; using his addictions (gambling & drinking) to cope with his problems. Angel will be more incline to gravitate towards Husker and telling him his problems. I say this because it’s the same reason why Angel confines in Cherri, and is close with her. And unlike Charlie who can be naive at time ( don’t get me wrong I still love her), Husker will know when he’s over stepping his boundaries, and when to helping him since he’s going through something similar.

(Charlie wanting to help Angel but doesn’t know how...)

So all of you maybe wondering, how is Husker gonna help Angel dust then if he hides his problems like that. Vivziepop made Husker a poker-player for a reason, he knows how to tell if someone’s bluffing. And it’s already been established that Angel has a terrible poker face... so Angel can’t lie to Husker. This is why he was angry at Angel’s flirting when they first meet because he already sees through his facade, (plus he’s shy about it). He knows that he doesn’t really meant and he’s hiding something. His sense and observation skills are very necessary cause he can spot when Angel’s actually in trouble.

links to official instagrams below to follow the narrative: 

Angel’s instagram/Husker’s instagram/Nifty’s instagram/Sir Pentious’ instagram

This post starts the saga where Angel is waiting to be picked up at the studio. Saying “Waiting at the studio to...Be picked up for some fucking...Food.”, Val is quick comment on this saying “Forgot to pick you,lol.” and takes the chance to make him like an after thought and after Angel asks to be picked up again Val answer back “yeah but we are filming, I already ate.” just to rub it in. But that’s where Huskers intervenes and get Angel something to eat ,  and there’s a key detail here that it’s only Husker that comes to his aid. Now most of the main cast has an Instagram so you’d think they’d help him but they don’t... They all probably think he’s just being cute and sassy totally unaware of the Angel’s situation with Valentino, but we the audience know... (I’ll bring this point back later)

This one post is enough for Husker to be able see that Angel was really in trouble, which is why he goes out of his way to get him something to eat. And I would also like to point out after this post Husker starts following Angel’s instagram liking all his instagram posts. There’s more to this... keep in mind he starts following Angel after his posts about being tired and hungry. He’s not following him just because he has a “little crush” on Angel... he’s doing this because he wants to make sure Angel’s doing okay. He cares about Angel Dust well being and follows him to make sure doesn’t go hungry again. But during this time Angel isn’t aware of this... that Husker doing this out of worrying for Angel. I say this because right after Angel gets Husker tickets to his strip show, as “thank you” for the food. Showing that he trusts Husker but not entirely...

At this point Angel I don’t believe that he sees Husker’s actions as a gustier of genuine kindness towards him. No, he sees Husker as someone who just wants his body and this is just his way of getting towards that goal. Offering his services (or being flirty) is Angel way of not getting attach to someone (like I’ve said before): think of it as “ripping the band-aid quick off before it hurts more...”  it’s so he doesn’t get hurt again like with Valentino. I believe Val also managed manipulated Angel by doing nice things for him at first, like saying nice words or buying him nice gifts as means to just use him for his body (this is a real thing pimps do). And Angel thinks Husk is no different from the other guys who used him, that what everybody wants from him... he might as well give him what he wants. 

Night of the show rolls around and Husker misses it, kitty got too drunk... which we know takes place during the music video of Addict. In which we get another post about backs my statement the cast doesn’t know about Angel’s abuse. Nifty’s posts a pic, of Angel Dust looking sad after his show... saying “Saw Angel earlier, i hope he doesn’t leave the butts there 😅” Nifty wouldn’t have posted this if she knew what was going on. But Husker knows, that Angel’s depressed and feels bad about missing the show commenting “Oh fuck is that what I missed. Aw shit.” Feeling very guilty about missing Angels, usually Husk tends to hide his feelings but in this moment is very honest. Meaning he really did want to go to the show, not only that but realizes that Angel is actually upset. And he didn’t have to post this comment on Angel’s instagram but he had to he wanted to show that he was remorseful for not coming showing he is attracted to Angel Dust. 

This picks up to with a post with Husker saying “Ugh... Since I missed the show, @angie_fluffy_bootz is sayin I owe him one and is making me watch his fuckin pig... I ain’t a fuckin babysitter!” in which babysits Fat Nuggets, which means he went out of his way to say “ what can I do to make it up to you”, and the conversation after it is a major turning point in the relationship for them. In the comment section Husker complains that Fat Nuggets ate all the food at the bar and says he wants to be payed back. Angel’s offer to pay him pay with a “private show”, in the only way thing he thinks Husker wants (I mean that all anybody ever wants from him). He does this with his usually flirty response, but it’s very different (this is a cut version of the convo.):

Angel: “tell ya what I’ll pay ya back with another private show”

Husker: “...I’m not doing that.

Angel: that or nothing babe. I think it’s a good deal.

Husker:“Jesus fucking Christ...” 

Angel: Ugh. Fine I’ll quit it. Only if you join me for shakes.

Husker: Yeah okay I think I can do that. 

This is major turning point in their relationship; this conversation is very important. Like I said before this is just his way of ripping the band-aid but there’s a reason why he’s really pushing it this time. It’s because Angel knows that he’s starting to catching feelings for Husker. And he’s not sure if Husker wants his body or if really means it. And the matter of the situation is Husker’s feeling the same way. When Husker says “Jesus fucking Christ...” it’s his way of saying “For the last time I don’t want your body, I’m not playing this game”... Here’s the thing Husker believes he’s proven enough that he doesn’t see Angel as a sex object, he’s more tried of the facade than he is annoyed. He doesn’t want Angel Dust to be a “fuck buddy” to him...

And this is a major turning point in their relationship, Angel finally understands that Husker just wants to be there for him. This is why he offers to go out with shakes with him, and of course Husker denies it and says “it’s not a date...”, but we know Husker is happy, because he’s willing accept this as being payed back for the food fat nuggets are, to him this was enough. Needless to say to say it was very cute and I loved it. Not only that but Husker becomes more active on Instagram and low-key tries to flirt back to Angel in his own grumpy cat way. 

Try and tell me they aren’t flirting with each other!

A week after their date Angel Dust does a instagram post showing off his new outfit he got and Husker is quick to ask “why so many zippers”, he’s still too nervous to flirt directly Angel Dust responses with “More to pull down, respond...” Huskers clueless and responses with a “eh” still likes it anyway (the feelings are mutual now). And within the same week Husker posts his own selfie“ Wanted to wear a tie for once. 🥃”, posting one because of Angel. And this isn’t for nothing the pics clearly mirror each other (no pun intended). Just-wanted-to-wear-a-tie-for-once-my-foot ..he clearly did this to impress Angel with him asking “If he needs help with that tie...”, with Husker still being oblivious with the sexual reference but kitty’s still trying. 

This to me highlights why Angel is good for Husker (and vice-versa)... During his first appearance he comments “I lost the ability to love years ago...” and drinks down his booze. Which alludes to why he drinks because he feels lonely. Angel makes him active thus eliminating his reason to drink, as we can see through Husk trying things he hasn’t done before like wearing nice clothes. Now he didn’t have to but Husker pushed himself to be better. As for Angel it gives him a genuine romantic relationship that is centered by an emotional connection and not physically. Husker prioritizes Angels feelings and well-being first.

And for those of you that are confused with Huskers grumpy tendencies. In an interview Viviziepop has said about him is that he is a tsundere. Now a tsundere, it is a character the initially appearing as cold and hostile only to hide their true feelings. This is a troupe used  many times in animes (but if you are not familiar with the term or need an example of one Helga from Hey Arnold is a prime example of one).  His actions disregard his attitude towards Angel... Most of his grumpy responses to Angel are to hide his feelings for him and never used to cut down or degrade Angel Dust (like Val does). I will even argue that Husker is the total opposite of Valentino; Val uses flashiness and with sweet words to hide his heinous and vile intentions. While Husker seems hotheaded and temperamental initially his actions show he’s actually a very kind and caring individual and Angel defiantly sees that...

HUSKER MADE THE WALL!

Angel is special to Husker and he feels the same way... Now and is upper there with Fat Nuggets and Cherri Bomb. And of course Husker is embarrassed, realizing his pics there too saying “what the fuck!” but we know he’s happy. At this post we can assume that Husker is just as important to him as Cherri & Fat Nuggets is to him... and vice-versa. Which is why I believe that Husker will be the one Angel reaches out to first for help within the Hazbin Hotel. And I know some of you may not be convinced, that it’s just platonic or think that Husker just sees him as a friend, but as we know Husker is not a man of words... but a man of action! 

There is a key detail in this story that I’ve been keeping under-warps up until now, (and the reason why it took me so long to because once I found it piece of info; I had to change my original plans for this post). 

Remember how I said that the rest of the cast doesn’t know what’s going on with Val... and that Husker’s observation skills were going to be integral in helping save Angel. Well around the same time as the PJ pic... on Sir Pentious’ instagram he posts a pic of himself trying to make his minions look like Valentino and Vox: I wasn’t even trying to find this but low and behold guess who pops up in the comment section...

Now what does this post say to you. (Husker also liked the post too)

Now repeat after me...“You don’t hear shit about people unless you go looking for it.” ... HUSKER KNOWS!  My theory is that he’s been suspecting that there was something up with Val, ever since the pick-up post, so he’s been keep tabs on instagram Angel to make sure he was safe. And as time went on Angel became more precious to him and became more worried about him. And Husker not wanting to overstep his bounds by asking Angel directly, (because it’s none of his business but still super worried) so he goes around digging info on Valentino. SO then he probably knows that he abuses his workers.  

(Or Angel told him whats happening... I’m leaning towards that Husker did his own digging because narratively it would be too soon and we wouldn’t have a story to tell and would have told Charlie and the rest of the crew too already... Either way..)

Val sent him this, scumbag! And it only takes Husker seconds to defend him and makes sure Angel knows he’s not fat. (most recent post)

Husker has knows, he’s actively been looking into Valentino and the shit he’s done, because he wants to protect Angel Dust! And it’s evident now, he has been defending him on Instagram as well, now being in the know, Husker defending his boy! He is not afraid of Valentino and is not putting up with his BS for putting down Angel anymore... our boy Husker is watching you rat-man.

He maybe the only one who knows that Valentino is abusing Angel (or catching on to it). Which will lead Angel coming clean about how Valentino raped him... And at this point Angel trusts Husker so much that he maybe willing to listen to him when he says “Hey you need to tell someone” or “you need help” and Husker already knows Angel well enough to know how to help him without having Angel push him away. 

AND THAT is why I believe he will be the major driving force in saving Angel from the RAT-MAN (Val)... And we know Husker isn’t afraid of overlords; he’s gonna protect his boy. He is proven time and time again that he loves and cares for Angel Dust so much... and oh I’m gushing now.

AND LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE! I just want them to be happy, I want the best for our bois!

Thank you and I hope you all enjoyed the post (and please no shipping war in the comment section I don’t condone it whether you support it or not! Not fighting in the fandom)

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt11

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Mention of blood, Past events, Unwanted hate towards a family member, and Attempted murder.

Note: I am really bad at warning.

Previously

The sound of coins being step on quietly filled the cavern, as someone pick up the old book on the ground and return back to sleep.

“So, you don’t want to control my body?” Mammon asks the beast reflected in the lake.

No....I have seen how your brothers treated you, and frankly I think you should fight back!

Mammon pouts at him, not likely the way his saying this.

“Hey! They might be a pain in the ass, but that all family are. Sure, we are at each other’s throats, but we have each others back when we need the most.” The beast huffs at that.

Name one time, you all agree to do something!

“The reaper’s cave”

Hm?

“We might not say it out loud, but we truly wanted to help Beel in anyway possible. Hell, it was a miracle that y/n was there. If was for them giving some of their candle to Beel, we would have made it a regular thing to go back to that cave for Beel.” He starts playing around with his ring, to distract himself from missing his brothers.

It seems that the human choice you out of your brothers why is that?

“y/n is not just a human! And why would you care if y/n choose me?”

I don’t know Mammon, why least you been repeating it in your head over and over causing me to wake up!

Suddenly Mammon felt a lump in his throat, he wants to respond but hesitant for a moment, then he spat it out.

“I haven’t done any of that”

Really? Let me refresh your memories

The last part the beast voice changes into his voice as he starts talking into it.

“I failed as protector and a guardian!” “They deserve better than me!” “Why they have to choose me to love” “Why settle with a weak and pathetic demon like me” “I SHOULDN’T BE SECOND OF THE AVATARS!?!”

Half way of the beast speech Mammon covered his ears, shut his eyes, and grinned his teeth with a snarl coming out of him. But he just keeps repeating his thoughts over his mind. Until Mammon scream.

“OKAY I GET IT!” he drops down it all fours as pant like he was exhausted. “I-I can’t be the demon they all want me to be”

Because you keep letting them to fill your mind with those thoughts, but what you should be doing is SHOW THEM!

Mammon looks back to the lake and asks “What do you mean?”

Kill The demon who attack our mate

“I can’t do that; the bastard knows and what I can do. Even if want to kill him, he’ll just move one location to the other”

Not unless you change into me…...

“I can’t…...” Mammon clenches his hands, digging his talons into his palms drawing blood as his body to tremble in the thought of changing back to that form the memories flood back in his mind, all the fights, the wounds which heals but the mental scars remain, and watching Levi and Asmo change right Infront of him. Their scream of agony rings in his ear as tears and blood drip down in to the ground as he starts to sob.

Are you scare after killing Basto, you’ll go and killing your brother while they’re in those forms?

Mammon quickly nods while his looking down at his bleeding hands.

You don’t have to worry about that

The beast spoke with a softer tone causing Mammon to look back at the lake.

“Wh?”

Look you and I are the same being, when I tell you that all you have to do is stay away from them for a week or two, to have better control over yourself and your instinct you might be the first one out of the seven of you to able to turn into your demonic form without the resist of killing your brothers.

Mammon is done founded about the beast just said.

“How are you sure that I can do that?”

Simple you and Asmo are the only ones that didn’t attack y/n when you get angry and threaten them. And you are the only one who never use violence against them by changing into your demon form. You might be a hothead but you never or will raise a hand to your brothers or to our mate.

Mammon is left speechless, the thing that he been scare of knows him well to the point of trusting him for being himself. He was right as much he hates being the first one to be targeting with name calling because of his sin, is not like his the only one, Asmo calling him a horn dog, Levi with his weird obsession with things and getting emotional, Beel with eating all the time, Belphie with out of nowhere naps and sleeps, Satan with his anger issues, and Lucifer being too proud for his own good.

Their demons now, is something they should be use to. But him have the most control out of the seven of them, makes him fill warm inside. That he should be proud of, and why he should let his brothers tell him that he has no self-control when anger.

But his sin oh yeah! He can’t argue with that, I mean he was willing to help Solomon to forge a pact with Lucifer for the Midas crest, and immediately takes all back when Asmo points out that once he gets the crest, he won’t able to touch you due to the crest make everything he touch turns into gold. It had to take Asmo to point it out, who just said it to openly admit that it will be less competition for him. To realize that he could have made one of his biggest mistakes of his life, for what gold!

Looking back at his hands and/or talons then his wings, looks back at his newly grown tail. It too late, he’s far along of the transformation as he his. If he agrees with the beast’s plan, its going to take some time, means that you need to go back.

“Hey, before I agree to yer plan, let me take y/n back to my brothers”

Mammon…. their better with us then back with your brothers

“Yer crazy!?! What if I kill them!”

MAMMON The last thing we want is our MATE DYING. AGAIN! I’m still a little mad at Sloth for what he did! He’s luckily that y/n forgave him, because if they didn’t rest assure, I would’ve wakened up that day!

Mammon flinch and snarl at just remember that day. Holding your past self in his arms as you choke on your blood causing Belphie. If he’s being honest with himself, sometimes he gets piss off whenever Belphie took a nap at your lap and asks pat his head like, he didn’t try to kill you long ago.

That reflex he just did, get angry when you get hurt or someone trying to hurt you. Maybe his beast does have a point.

“Okay, I’ll do it……I’ll-I’ll change, IF!! You make sure that y/n safety is my-our one goal! Go it!”

Even with a beak the beast smirk at Mammon

You have my word…… also you might feel A LOT of pain!

“Huh?...... Wh?”

Before Mammon can say anything else, he felt a pain in his abdomen, he wants to scream but he bites his lips muffling the scream. As he dug his talons into the ground dragging his hands closer to him. Then the pain slowly got worst by each heart beat and panting.

Soon the he couldn’t take it anymore and let out an agnosies scream.

Then a faith voice calls out to him.

“……Mammon…...”

“Mammon!”

Mammon wakes up from the dream by someone grooming his tail, he slowly opens his eyes and lifted up his head and let out a wake-up yawn. And turn his head to whoever is touching his tail.

His eyes narrows and he groans at the sight who it was.

“Morning Mammon, have a good night sleep” Asmo flash he cheerful smile as he fixes the feathers of his tail. “When is the last time you check your tail feathers, look at them some of them are uneven and others stuck together see….” He points at feathers with the vane split apart with dry blood.

“Oi! I didn’t have a chance to clean myself and beside y/n usually brushes and cleans my feathers so, back off” Mammon squawks at Asmo who just giggle at him.

Right, no one can hear him, well no one expect Lucifer who is close to what he is now. He just has to have you use gestures and his eyes to convey what he’s thinking.

“What a pain in the ass, ya all don’t listen to me when I was normal. Now I have to deal with this crap!?! Tch whatever, the herd must be at the lake at this time. Might as well get some food……. Oh shit! Beel’s here…. Great……”

“I know that you’re not a morning demon, so I know that your cranky. But maybe not try to be loud so you won’t wake up y/n” that snap Mammon out of his train of thought.

Surprise to what Asmo said, Mammon looked down in his arms to see your sleeping form curled up next to his chest as you nuzzle your cheek into in with a smile on your face.

He faces softens as gently rub your face with his, as a soothing cooing and purring comes off from him, causing you to let out a satisfying hum as you fall more asleep.

Then Mammon reaches out with beak for a thick fabric from the nest. Then he slowly and gently lay you on the nest and place the fabric under your head serving as a pillow as you continue to sleep.

Then he stood up leave the nest as Asmo let go of his tail and gazing at his brother’s action. Once out of the nest Mammon stretches bending down then stand back straight shake body ruffle his feathers and once finish the feathers fixes themselves as Mammon being his daily routine beginning with leaving the cave. And Asmo got up and follow his big brother.

“I-I don’t believe it. There’s no SIGNAL HERE!!!” Levi is basically reaching for the havens on top of the tree trying to get a signal for his D.D.D, but to no avail.

“Levi! Get down from there” Lucifer yells at Levi causing to flinch almost letting of the branch he was holding to keep himself balance.

From afar Satan and Belphie watches the two older brothers, with Beel who is cook breakfast inside the cave.

“Its just me or is Lucifer losing~”

“His cool? Yes, I’m all for it” Satan is gleefully smile at the sight of Lucifer completely abandoning all of his calmed and serious demeanor, for an anger, short tempered and animalistic one.

Then suddenly they heard talons being drag through rock behind them, they turn around to see Mammon walking out from the cavern and heading outside with Asmo not far behind him.

“Mammon, your awake you got to see this Lucifer is blowing a casket at Levi~” Mammon just keep on walking out ignoring Satan.

“Wait where you going? Breakfast is about to start” Beel got up from he sits next to the campfire and chase after Mammon.

Once outside, flap his wings and start flying, grabbing the attention of Lucifer and Levi.

“MAMMON!?!” Lucifer calls out to him, as he flew after him grabbing Levi’s arm towing along.

As Levi scream for help fade, Satan look at Asmo with a questionable look on his face.

“What did you do”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I was just cleaning the feathers in his tail; I mean you saw him covered in blood of that bastard. You would have done the same thing” Asmo huffs and walk back inside.

“Oh, before you go, Lucifer was looking for the book that he used. Have you seen it?” but Asmo shook his head, not even looking at Satan as he went in to Help Beel with breakfast.

“Clearly one of us is lying about the book” Belphie said it looking at Satan.

“Obviously, but the question is who is lying”

[formenis]

Hi there! I can to request a one shot where the reader is jealous because BB has been looking at someone too much or something like that. Please and thank you!

Yes, of course dear~ I love writing B ♥

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TITLE: SIGHT

pairing: Beyond Birthday x jealous!gn!reader

|| warning: major spoilers of the novel "The Los Angeles BB murder cases" / jealousy / slightly yandere behaviour / a not very healthy relationship ||

When B left the Wammy's House on May 2002 for the States he felt a bit out of place: he was alone in a foreign and far country. Luckily that feeling lasted less than five minutes once at the Los Angeles airport. He had only one goal in mind: to surpass L, the greatest detective in the world, as the "World's Greatest Criminal," giving him a case that B hoped he would be unable to solve.

June just started few days ago when B's life changed in a way he would never imagined. He was in a beauty store, he needed to buy a new foundation and few eye pencils in order to maintain his heavy mask of L's lookalike. B was waiting for his turn at the cash register and he was the only boy there.

All the girls (and women) were secretly looking at him trying to understand if those products were for him or for a female partner or relative. And maybe the oldest ones were mentally insulting him because "boys should not wear makeup". As if B read those thoughts he turned his head towards those women to glare at them: his dull black eyes always made people look away in fear. A voice, however, distracted him.

«Sir? It's your turn»

B looked in front of him once again and noticed the cashier was right so he walked closer to them, scattering the products on the conveyor belt. The cashier, someone with H/C hair and S/C skin, smiled kindly at him while doing whatever a cashier did, B didn’t care and looked away just to read people's names above their heads.

«Sir? If you're interested, we have a lighter shade of this foundation»

At those words B turned to look at the cashier one more time. Since L was really pale, lighter was better.

«Really? I saw nothing at the display cabinet» B replied with a raised eyebrow but the cashier couldn’t see it since his face was partially hidden by a cap.

«It's because we hadn’t the time to organise it but it is available. Do you want to see it?»

«Yes»

The E/C coloured cashier nodded at him and whispered something to a girl next to them. In few instants that girl opened the register next to them so the other clients could pay for their shopping there.

In the meantime, B thought about his plan: everything was perfectly set (the crime scene, the Wara Ningyo, the victim's name and his cover), nothing will go wrong. He smirked at the perfection of his project, he couldn’t be more satisfied.

«There it is, sir. Do you want to try it?» the cashier came back, in their hands a tiny bottle of foundation way lighter than the one B chose before. The once L's successor nodded and extended his right hand so the cashier could apply a small quantity of foundation on it, with circular motions.

«The ideal is to test the product on the side of your jaw but I believe this shade suits you well, sir. It's almost invisible on your hand»

B, however, wasn’t focused on the foundation in that moment. When the cashier's fingers touched his hand he felt a strange sensation. It was like…flames, as if he touched the fire with bare hands. He wanted…to feel it…once again…

«You're right, I think I'll take this» B masked his emotions with a fake smile and the cashier nodded at his reply. While they were busy with his products, B's eyes couldn’t look away from his right hand. The foundation was still there and he caressed it with the thumb. Something about that simple gesture upset him…in a positive way, maybe?

«It's $22.13, sir»

Without saying another word, B payed for his shopping and left the beauty shop. Before leading back home, he glanced inside the shop. He could read above the cashier's head two words: Y/N L/N. And then a date.

"Your death is so far from now, Y/N…you're lucky".

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It was August 2002 and Believe Bridesmaid was already dead. B was rather satisfied about his job, nobody interrupted him during the murderer. Not even when he re-dressed the victim after the post-mortem mutilation.

Something, however, didn’t go as he planned. This "something" was Y/N. A part of B's brain yelled things like "Don’t distract yourself!" or "Focus on L not them"; but the other half pushed him to know Y/N more. He went in that beauty shop as much as he could even though he didn’t buy anything.

Despite his unique personality, B and Y/N started to get along. Poor Y/N ignored the fact that more than once B followed them home and he even spied on them different times.

«Ryuzaki! Did you hear?» an afraid Y/N appeared from the service entrance of their beauty shop. It was a sort of habit for B (or Ryuzaki as he introduced to Y/N) to join them after work.

«Hear what, Y/N?» he asked while putting his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans. Even though he always walked hunched over he was still taller than Y/N.

«A famous writer died!» they put the shop's keys in their bag and started to walk back home with Ryuzaki beside them.

«Yes, I heard that. It happened few weeks ago, right?»

Y/N nodded, they seemed quite shocked. «I read all his books, I can't believe someone killed him»

«Yeah…Los Angeles is becoming a dangerous place»

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August 4th was close and B had to kill again. He managed to realise all the riddles and the three Wara Ningyo he had to leave on the scene. However, something was missing: the victim itself. He decided he would take advantage of a walk he wanted to take with Y/N. They needed a break from work and B suggested to spend some time at the park.

Once surrounded by peace and trees, however, Y/N noticed something strange on Ryuzaki. Something that made them…boil with jealousy.

Since the moment they met Ryuzaki at the beauty shop, Y/N felt something for that strange "un-private" detective. They didn’t care about his peculiar behaviour or particular taste about food: his deep black eyes, the way his thin lips curved in a smile each time he saw them and his intellect…he knew so many things, Y/N wondered where he studied all that.

Ah, poor Y/N. They were completely unaware of Ryuzaki's real self. They knew the pale, slouched "un-private" detective and not the bloodthirsty and ferocious serial killer.

They admitted they started to feel…attracted by the man. Y/N didn’t know it was simple friendship or…something else.

Back to the park, Y/N noticed a strange attitude of Ryuzaki. Since the two of them started to walk towards the park, the man was staring intensely at all women (and even men) that passed next to them. It looked like he was searching for someone in particular.

«Are you alright Ryuzaki?»

The un-private detective turned towards Y/N and smiled. «Yes Y/N» and then he came back at staring at people as nothing happened…as if Y/N wasn’t there with him.

He looked at people down on with such intensity that Y/N had the feeling he was imagining something in his head. He even smirked from time to time.

«I wish you would look at me in the same way…» Y/N said in a whisper.

«I don’t know what that was about, but I love seeing you all riled up» at that answer Y/N turned towards him. Did he hear them?

Ryuzaki was looking at them with curiosity, a thumb over his lips. The wind messed up his (already ruffled) hair and his weird sitting position - with his knees pulled up against his chest- made him bigger than usual.

Y/N's cheeks turned pink and looked away embarrassed. Geez, Ryuzaki heard them…

They were so focused on their gaffe that they didn’t notice the man moved an arm around their shoulder in a cute attempt to hug them. That gesture took Y/N aback but hugged him back almost immediately, sensing the intoxicating scent of strawberry jam of his clothes.

«I would never reserve that kind of look on you, Y/N. You're far too…» and B paused, trying to find the right word to not to make them suspicious about his behaviour. «…important for me»

Y/N silently sighed in relief and stood trapped in the hug for a while. They were unaware, however, that B found the person he was searching for: Quarter Queen, August 4th 2002. At that sight he grasped with force at Y/N's shoulder…finally, his second victim.

Y/N interpreted that grasp as a gesture of Ryuzaki to remark what he said before, that they were important to him so they didn’t notice the strange, dangerous look on his face.

«Trust me, Y/N…you don't wish to be looked like that by me»