#like.... my dad loved musicals. but he only ever mentioned them when he was telling me how bad everything I like (and basically all modern

[running-in-the-dark]

just realised something random: I've always been kinda sad that there isn't any media that my parents liked and shared with me, that sort of thing. I know of things that they like, of course, but it was never something they showed me or anything.

and I just realised that's because it was never something nice, something fun, something they wanted to share - no, they only ever brought up things that they liked as a way to say that everything I liked was bad.

[muzaktomyears]

Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed

they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great 

before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread

John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED

when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap

when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on

John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk

some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)

instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)

'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)

George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.

"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)

"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit

"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight

when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)

the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......

they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.

the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.

Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")

the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)

Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him

during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say

I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre

the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)

Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)

they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)

John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings

when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess

the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????

yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek

anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU

[timdrakesbussy]

Some of my™ Stardew Valley HCs

TW: mention of miscarriages

Emily listens to all kinds of music but despite not looking like it, she mainly listens to heavy metal. It's one of the thing that brought her and Shane's early friendship together. And because of that, Haley shares a bit of fondness to the genre that she enjoys Sam's band (but don't tell him. this will mess with her rep).

Sam is pretty educated when it comes to literature, and English was always his favorite subject when he was in school. He's the main songwriter of his band and while Sebastian could also write, Sam manages to be witty and clever with his lyrics. Other than storytelling through song, he loves his double and triple entendres. Suffice to say, he could get along pretty well with Elliott and it's one of the reason why Penny loves hanging out with him.

Ever since she was a child, Maru thinks that Sebastian is really cool and she wants to be like him one way or another. Of course, she still wants to be herself but Sebastian is just so damn cool. During her time at school, she made herself learn how to ride a motorcycle using a friend's bike because she knew Sebastian would never lend her his.

Elliott was from an esteemed family from a foreign land (just Stardew's equivalent of Europe tbh) and was a licensed lawyer until he stopped to be a writer. Needless to say, his family are not happy by this sudden decision. Not that he needs their opinion on the matter, he was pushing thirty when he made this decision.

Harvey was an ER doctor in Zuzu City until the incident™. He knew that with his line of job, he can't save everyone. However, he can't help but feel guilty and terrible afterwards. Which is why he has routine check-ups for the villagers, and if they can't visit him, then he will visit them. You cannot escape him because he will find you (affectionate).

Both Haley and Alex believed that at one point, they actually liked each other romantically. But when they had their first kiss together, they realized that they weren't meant to be. They have this deep platonic connection that even Emily doesn't really understand, but she's happy that her baby sister have someone she can rely on and trust for all her life.

Robin takes pride in her name even if her parents weren't supportive over her work at first. She have Sebastian share her last name, and when she married Demetrius, she hyphenated their surnames instead of just taking his.

Demetrius and Sebastian were close when he was a child. Sebastian was an overly curious and precocious boy and Demetrius was happy that he could share something with his stepson, their interest in biology. Although Sebastian was squeamish and even almost cried when he dissected a frog, he managed to calm him down. And even after their mutual parting as Sebastian grew older, he's the only one who knows what Demetrius' favorite animal is: moonlight jellies.

Jodi and Kent were teenagers when they had Sam. Jodi came from a highly conservative and religious family so they forced them to marry after Jodi gave them the news that she was pregnant. As they were teens, Kent took any odd jobs he could get in the city, from a corner-store clerk to a garbage man. Until he got offered into joining the military.

Pam was a trucker before she became a bus driver. In fact, she met Penny's dad in the business. But in her childhood, she was in multiple beauty pageants and even into her adulthood, she knows how to hairdo. She helped Penny with her hair since she was a child and hope that she could still do Penny's hair in her future wedding, whenever that is.

Alex's mom had multiple miscarriages before she have him, and that was into her ten years of marriage. She was beyond ecstatic with his birth that she immediately called her aging parents who also shared her happiness, they then invited her to the Valley a few days after Alex was born so they could celebrate in the Mullners' house. Lewis heard about the news and asked if they wanted to celebrate in the Saloon in which Evelyn denied because Clara wanted a small celebration with just her family.

Abigail is the only marriageable candidate to be born in the Valley. Sebastian moved in not long after Maru was born so he was close to her as he was the only child her age at that time. Penny moved in when she was seven with her parents until her dad left when she was ten. Haley moved in when she was ten years old while Sam moved in a year after. Alex often visited his grandparents but he officially moved in after Clara's death in his pre-teens. The rest moved in as adults.

Similarly to Alex, Shane only ever visited and stayed for a while in the Valley until he needed to take care of Jas. He wasn't close with his parents and they never tried to be anyways, Marnie is always the mother figure he has. So other than Marnie and Jas, the only people he considered as his family was Jas' parents. Her father, whom he met and befriended in college (as he was his roommate, before they mutually dropped out) and her mother whom he wasn't very close to at first until they both find comradery in bullying (affectionate) Jas' father.

[ellieslittlewh0re]

Temptations - stepsister! ellie x fem reader

wk- 3.5k

summary- reader and ellie visit home for the summer after their time away at collage

additional tags: IM SORRY!! I know this is pushing it but it can’t be inc*st if they’re not blood related right? 🙃, reader is Joel’s bio daughter, sarah doesn’t exists in this bc I said so, ellie is adopted, rocker! ellie, band! ellie, loser! ellie, perv! ellie, weed! mention, ellie is kinda awful in this, like typical f*ck boy beat, reader and ellie are polar opposites so they kinda don’t get along, reader is a overachiever, ellie is a deadbeat, nothing too crazy happens in this part, masturbation! warning (ellie), no physical description of reader, mutual pinning and gay longing etc…

part 1 - part 2

psa!! I know this isn’t for everyone!! If you don’t like it, don’t read it!! 🥰

——————————————————————————

The sweltering blaze of the summer Texas sun made my thighs stick to the leather seat of my 97' Buick as I exited the car.

I looked up at the pale yellow house, peeled siding, and a crooked white picket fence hugging the perimeter. It was familiar. It was home. Memories, good and bad, rested in the floorboards.

I stood in the driveway, the strap of my tank loosely hung off my shoulder, backpack slung over one arm, and the other weighed down by a suitcase.

"Hey- kiddo! You're late."

A man shouted from the front porch, waving his hand excitedly.

"I know. I'm sorry. Traffic was bad moving' through Houston." I gave the old man an apologetic smile as he met me halfway, pulling me in for a familiar embrace of musk and pine.

"Jus' glad you made it safe, is all. Dinners on the table. Hope yer hungry- I think I made too much." Joel gave me a smile, the wrinkles on his face looked deeper than I remembered.

He escorts me into the house, taking my bags from me and relieving me of the extra weight.

The house looks the same, but at the same time different. Smaller maybe? The furniture was in the same positions, the walls the same color, although slightly faded from the years.

"Can you go get yer sister? Tell her supper s' ready." The man asks as he turns to the staircase off the entry, bags in hand to put them in my old bedroom.

I tense, my body physically rejecting the idea of my sister- well, step sister.

I was hoping to make it here before she did, give me a few hours of peace before she'd ultimately ruin it.

When Ellie came into this family, it didn't take long for me to become jealous. She quickly clicked with Joel, bonding with him over things that he took an interest in; building shelves, working on cars, hell, even playing guitar.

It's not like I thought my dad loved Ellie more or anything. I knew I'd always be his little girl that got perfect grades and stayed out of trouble, but seeing how his face lit up when Ellie was by his side, grease smeared on her cheek made me heart seare.

I start to head up the stairs, following Joel's lead when I remembered she hasn't slept up there since she was a kid.

During Ellie's angsty teen years, she had begged Joel for days to let her move her bedroom in the basement, claiming "a growing girl needs her own space."

Joel always shot her down, but Ellie wouldn't let up. One night when I couldn't sleep, I got out of bed to get something to drink only to be met with Ellie's 16 year old string bean self pushing her mattress over the railing, and ever since then, the basement has been her territory.

I turn, slowly waking towards the door off of the kitchen that led to said basement, not a hint of enthusiasm in my step.

I creaked open the heavy door, and the wooden steps creaked beneath my feet with each step. Sounds of electronic gunshots and disgruntled curses grew louder as I reached the bottom.

I extend my neck around the corner of the cement room, clothes and empty cans scattered on the floor, music and movie posters filling every inch of the wall surface.

"Els...Ellie." I repeat her name, but she doesn't acknowledge it, her focus never straying from the first person shooter game on the tv. The LED lights that outlined the room turned the space into a purple hue.

My patience wearing thin, I yell her name one last time.

"What?!" Ellie huffed, tearing off the headset that covered her ears and looked at me.

"Dinner is ready." I said plainly, rolling my eyes before going back up the stairs.

"What? I don't even get a hello?"

Ellie yells from her still seated position, a cockiness tingled on her lips.

I scoff, rolling my eyes even harder even if she couldn't witness it. I picture that familiar smug smirk on her face that she had whenever she was trying to piss me off, and it was working.

Ellie loved toying with you like this since you were 16, and she was 17, poking and prodding at you as she sat back, and watched you get worked up. Ellie would never admit it to you, but she loved how no matter how little she tried to rile you up; you'd always bite.

"How's yer classes going? Likin' your teachers alright?" Joel asked between bites of his burger, his eyes glancing at me and over to Ellie, more specifically towards Ellie.

"Good... yeah, everything's good." I nod towards him, giving him a sincere smile to assure him.

Joel winked, smiling back like he knew he could count on me when it came to that sort of thing.

Ellie didn't respond, too busy shoving food in her face which made Joel kick her under the table, jolting her attention away from her plate.

"Ow! What the hell?" Ellie yelled, throwing her hands up.

"Yer classes, Ellie. How are you doin'?" The man asked, a seriousness overtaking his tone.

Ellie groaned, throwing her head back over the top of the wooden dining chair.

"They're fine. Stop worryin'." Ellie gave him a glare before diverting her attention back to her food.

I watch her from across the table, my legs crossed as I quietly ate which was the complete opposite of her.

Ellie's elbows rested on the oak table, her body slightly hunched as she devoured every last bite like she was a starved animal.

I stood at the sink, washing a cup when I felt a hand grab my hip from behind.

"Sorry- here's another one." Ellie talked into my neck, her fingers digging into my hip slightly. Her chest brushed against my back, and her lips too close to my neck. It felt suffocating.

I hadn't realized her presence had me washing the same cup for the entire interaction.

"Hey, Ellie-"

Joel's voice boomed, interrupted into the kitchen, causing Ellie to push herself away quickly.

Joel stood in the archway, his forearm coming up to lean against it.

"I haven't been down in the basement for a long time- please sleep upstairs. I don't need ya gettin' bit by a widow or somthin'."

Ellie groaned, her eyes lolling back into her skull, but she didn't argue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was long over. Joel retreated into his bed room for the night, placing a kiss on the top of my head before doing so.

I was sitting on the couch; the tv show I was watching was the only source of light that illuminated the main floor.

It was quiet and peaceful, Ellie had gone back down to her dungeon shortly after dinner, playing video games by the sounds of it.

My quiet was disturbed as the heavy basement door swung open, revealing a homely looking Ellie. Her sweatpants hung low on her hips, checkered green and blue boxers peaking above the waistband, and black wifebeater that snugged her torso.

"Isn't past your bed time, young lady?" Ellie teased as she opened the fridge, pulling out a beer before lazily making her way to the living room.

"Who cut your hair, Hellen Keller?" I snapped right back, a smirk on my lips as she took a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"Oh- ha. Ha. You're funny."

Ellie pulled a lighter out of the pocket of her pants, using the top to pop open the cap of the brown bottle.

Her chuckle was low and raspy as she brought the rim of the bottle to her lips, her head dipping back as she swallowed the liquid.

Ellie had changed a lot since the last time I saw her, almost two years ago. Her hair is shorter, choppier, and a darker shade of brown, almost black.

Ellie is also taller and more muscular like she really grew into herself. Her face has hardened, her cheeks and jaw more apparent than before.

I sneak peeks at her, looking her over and familiarize myself with my step sisters new look. My eyes travel down to the dark green-blue ink that covered her forearm, a moth with fern leaves. It was pretty, almost too delicate looking compared to her, but it suited her.

My eyes scale down further to her hands, long fingers and a prominent veins that curved along. I have to give it to her, she always had beautiful hands.

"Take a picture it will last longer."

Ellie's voice jolted me out of my trance, my head quickly turning back to the tv.

I try to think of something- anything to cover my tracks.

"Don't get cocky- I was looking at your tattoo. It's nice... who did it?"

Ellie lifted her arm, turning it over to observe it.

"My ex. She bought a tattoo gun online and needed someone to practice on." Ellie said nonchalantly, shrugging before looking back up at the tv.

"Well- she did good. Why is she your ex now? You should've kept her around and gotten tatted up." I ask with genuine interest.

Ellie shrugged, taking another sip of her beer.

"Dunno- We kinda just fell out? Plus she caught me with another chick and freaked out." Ellie stated, not a hint of guilt after just admitting she's a cheater.

Somehow it didn't surprise me after all the girls she'd bring home after school. I'd see the same girl come over a few times within the week, only for the girl to be replaced by a different girl, and the cycle continued like that until she left for college.

"You think your big sis is a bad person now?" Ellie asked, a grin on her lips and she took another sip.

"It doesn't make me think of you any differently." I lied. It did make me think of her differently; I started to imagine what her sex life was like.

What's so great about her? That had these girls constantly following her home like a lost puppy. Surely, it's not her sunshine personality.

My mind flicks back to her hands, my eyes still glued to the tv. Her long and rough, calloused fingers must be the magic touch.

Ellie hummed at my response unconvincingly. The light from the tv illuminated the freckles on her cheeks and nose.

"The fuck are we watching anyways? Some cheesy reality show? Wait- is this the gay one?"

Ellie's voice piqued in interest, her back shimming further back into the cushion to her comfortable.

"Um- yeah, why?"

I ask, side eyeing her, not really understanding what the big deal was.

********

The big deal was; Ellie never knew if you were into girls; or not. She tried to figure it out for years, carefully observing the people you brought home for school. You didn't make it easy, and truthfully you were kinda a loner, only having a few close friends that you'd invite over.

Although there was that one time; you came home from school with a different girl that Ellie had never seen before, and when Ellie tried introducing herself, you quickly took the mystery girl's hand in yours and ran upstairs, locking the two of you in your bedroom.

Ellie fought herself over it for a long time, trying to picture you with a girl. She wondered if you had kissed another girl, held another girl's hand, and it drove Ellie fucking insane.

Ellie had a dark secret that she wouldn't dare say out loud and definitely would never let you know about it.

Ellie started thinking about you a lot after you turned 16, and they were almost never innocent thoughts. When you turned 16 it was like Aphrodite came down to earth and blessed you herself.

Ellie wasn't proud that she had these thoughts, I mean, you were her little sis after all, but it didn't stop her from picturing you whenever she fucked random college girls in the fraternity bathrooms.

********

Ellie shushed my question, motioning for me to turn it up and I do.

Four episodes in, both of us were dead silent as we watched the horror that is reality tv dating shows. We shared glances at each other whenever one of the cast members said something outrageous, but other than that, we just watched and enjoyed the presence of one another.

It was getting late, my eyes grew heavy and harder to keep open.

"Alright- it's gettin' late, and I have to shower still. Pick this up tomorrow?" I pause the tv and stand up with a yawn.

Ellie pleaded for one episode, holding her hands in a prayer. I stand my ground, promising her we can binge it tomorrow and that seemed to work.

We go up the stairs, Ellie following close behind as we mumble goodnights to each other before we go into our designated bedrooms.

I rummage through my suitcase, pulling out a over sized t-shirt and underwear.

I turn on the light in the bathroom, closing the door, but not all the way. It was a bad habit that I never grew out of, leaving the bathroom door open a few inches whenever I took a shower or bath. I did it because growing up, I was terrified of the bathroom, scared I'd get locked in and somehow the lights go out, and the grudge lady would be hiding in the shower.

I slip off my jeans and my tank, dropping them to the floor and turn on the water. I wait, holding my hand under the stream until the temperature was up to my standards.

I get in, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles from sitting in a car all day. I felt the tenseness of my shoulders relax and my heart rate slowing down to a more relaxed pace.

***********

Ellie laid in bed, her arm folding under her head as the springs in the mattress poked her back. She scrolled through various apps, checking social media, playing games and repeating.

The sound of the water running in the room down the hall could be heard faintly in Ellie's old bedroom. The walls were still painted a dark shade of blue, with doodles of planets and rockets hand painted by Ellie herself.

Joel couldn't bring himself to paint over them.

The joint (or a few joints) Ellie smoked after dinner; was starting to kick in and made her crave some sort of barbaric concoction.

Pickles with peanut butter, maybe?

Ellie sighed, lifting her myself from the bed lazily, scratching the back of her neck before she turned the nob.

Ellie entered the long stretch of the hall, passing your bedroom the illuminated with a soft pink hue. Coming up on the bathroom, she paused.

At first, she wanted to tease you, to scold you for still keeping the bathroom open when you showered. You weren't a little kid anymore, and you needed to grow up in Ellie's mind.

On the other hand, Ellie was intrigued. She found herself peeking through the gap, the steamed glass door of the shower made it hard to make out details, but it was enough.

She felt wrong about it. One part of her was pulling her body away, telling her to stop looking, but the other part of her (the more fucked up part) couldn't look away.

Her eyes trailed up the profile of your body; pausing momentarily at points of interest.

Ellie didn't know it at the time, but she was biting down on her lip hard as she looked at the curve of your ass, plump and full, and the way your tits sat so high and perky.

Her hand coming down to cup her cunt, rolling her wrist against her clit. A moan escapes her lips as she continued to watch.

The sound of the water shutting off made Ellie snap back to her senses. She quickly backed away from the door and as quickly and quietly, as she could, made her way back to her bedroom and shut the door.

She fell into the mattress, taking a deep and shaky breath as she realizes what she's done. A wave of guilt washed over her- no, more like a tsunami. You were her step sisters, and even worse you've know eachother since Ellie was 14 and you were 13. You practically grew up together, but how would've Ellie known you'd grow into that.

Ellie couldn't deny she thought you were beautiful. Not just the fake, superficial type of beauty, but naturally, you were breathtaking to her, and your body matched.

As Ellie conflicted with herself, she continued to picture you. She imagined what you looked like underneath her, what you sounded like when she was splitting you open.

The guilt was replaced by lust and hormones, but mostly; lust.

Her hand crept down to the hemp of her boxers, slipping inside. Her other hand grabbed the bottom of her tank and brought it up to hold between her teeth- leaving her breasts exposed.

Ellie's fingers glided along her folds, coating them in her slick. She teased her entrance, rubbing gentle circles around her clit.

"Fuuuck- look what you do t' me, y/n" Ellie stifled a moan, dropping the fabric from her teeth as her middle finger sunk into her pussy, pumping in and out, slowly.

She moaned your name; over and over, adding another finger and quickening the pace.

The scene was honestly pathetic. Ellie's sweats and boxers tugged down to her knees, not bothering to take them off completely. Her breasts were the only thing holding the tank up, her hardened nipples- red and swollen as she harshly tugged at them.

"Fuu- your s-so wet, baby. You like when I fuck you like this? Huh?" Ellie babbled and stuttered, gritting through her teeth as she reached closer to her peak.

She pictured this is what you felt like as she sunk her fingers inside, curling against the spongy walls, hitting the spot that made you squirm with each pump.

She wanted to hear you beg, wanted to hear you say her name over and over until it didn't sound like a word anymore.

"Fuu-fuckin' bitch- d-dirty fuckin' whore-" Ellie curses, jaw slacked and her eyebrows furrowed upwards. Her rhythm became jagged as her hips bucked upwards, fucking herself through her orgasm.

Ellie panted, sprawled across the bed as bolts of electricity continued to send shock waves through her body.

Her inner thighs glistened, her breasts malled and violated.

It was official, Ellie had hit a new level of fucked up, but that's okay as long as you never find out.

It's not like you had your ear pressed against the wall as soon as you heard strange noises coming from your step sisters bedroom.

[amourtoken]

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

-

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

[arroganceisherfavoritecolor]

Girl Next Door

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Donnie Darko cant help but watch his sweet neighbor through his window...

warnings: nsfw, donnie is a little shit perv stalker, reader is a cutie pie, mention of somnophilia

Donnie sprayed cologne on his neck, fresh out the shower. He did this routinely every night, just in case he would come into contact with his girl. Well...she didn't exactly know she was Donnie's girl, but she would soon find out.

Ever since [Name] had moved in next door and got placed into English Lit, Donnie only had one thing on his mind. Her. When he saw her moving boxes into the house right next to his, he knew he had to have her. She was the perfect girl. Funny, smart, gorgeous, and best of all, clueless. When [Names] family had threw a housewarming party a few months back, Donnie was thrilled to have an excuse to talk to her. "Yeah, me and my family just moved here from Cali. My dad got this great position at work and.." [Name] rambled on. But Donnie didn't mind, he listened attentively. Sure, his eyes would drift down her shirt and fixed on her lips, but he caught himself every time he did it. Yeah, sometimes when Name was showering while he was over he would go into her room to steal her panties, but he always made sure to put them back after he got a good use out of them.

Donnie and Name were great friends. From the moment they met, they were inseparable. They would see each other almost everyday. They would walk to and from school together, hang out together, it was almost like they were a thing. Donnie loved it when people would come up to him and ask "Are you and Name dating?" or "Wouldn't Donnie and Name would be so cute together?" It gave him a terrible ego boost. Could you blame the guy? Who wouldn't wanna be mistaken for a cute girls boyfriend? Yet, every time someone asked these questions, he would brush it off like nothing. "Nah, we're just friends." Oh how badly he wanted to play into it, tell the whole world that she was his and he was hers. But he couldn't, he was afraid that he would scare her off. His friends would often claim that Donnie was only [Names] friend because he wanted to fuck her. "Tsk, Don's only messing with [Name] because he wants to get in her pants. I mean, I don't blame him" his friends would tease. Donnie hated this, he hated how other guys talked about [Name], as if she were nothing more than an object. But nonetheless, Donnie would brush it off like nothing, ignoring the snarky comments.

Donnie couldn't help but get hard when he was around [Name]. It was like she was purposely trying to get him all worked up. She'd drop her paper on the ground and lean over her desk to pick it up, exposing her cleavage. Or she'd reach over the food bar, her skirt exposing her pink panties. Every move she made set Donnie off, and he loved it. He loved that she knew just how to make him horny.

Tonight, Donnie was sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Usually, around this time, [Name] would call him on the phone. She'd ramble about whatever had happened after he walked her home from school. Sometimes she'd make plans for them to hang out. But tonight was different, it was already half past 11 and she hadn't called. Donnie payed attention to her daily routine and habits. He knew that by 7:30, she would be out of the shower. What was taking so long? Donnie was pulled from his thoughts when he saw the light of [Names] room turn on. Fortunately for him, her window was in the perfect position, just right for him to see. It wasn't unusual for him to look at her through the window. Sometimes he'd just watch her do her homework or dance around listening to music. Donnie leaned out his window, wanting a closer look. There, he saw [Name] dripping wet, hair damp. It seemed as though she had just finished her shower. Her body was wrapped in a towel that barely covered her ass. Donnie could feel his heart beating and his palms sweating, just the thought of what was underneath that towel made blood rush to his dick.

Suddenly, she took off the towel. Oh my fuck Donnie thought to himself. He had only ever dreamed of a moment like this. [Name] bent over to pick up the towel, her perfect pussy right in the window frame. Donnie took out his cock, already leaking with precum. She hung up the towel, standing on her tippy toes to reach the hook on the back of her door. As she came down, her tits jiggled. Donnies cock throbbed at the sight of this. She was so clueless, how could she not have realized her window was wide open? Doesn't she know that theres perverts looking for cute girls to stalk?

The way [Name] pranced around her room naked made Donnie extremely horny. She hadn't a clue in the world that her best friend was jerking off his dick to the sight of her. Donnies face felt hot, his head was spinning. Was this really happening? He didn't care, all he cared about was cumming to the thought of [Names] cluelessness. She did little chores like picking up clothes and straightening up her vanity. Donnie wondered if she always did this while naked. Eh, who cares. He was getting a wonderful show. He stroked his dick faster, staring at her body. He thought of all the things he'd do to her. He wanted her to ride him while he sucked on her boobs. He wanted to fuck her from the back, watching her ass ripple as he slammed into her. Suddenly, [Name] threw on an oversized t-shirt. Donnie sighed, letting go of his dick. [Name] plopped down on her bed, legs kicking in the air. Her ass had just so happened to be facing the window.

Donnie looked closely, and realized she had no panties on. "Fuck, that might be hotter than seeing her naked" he mumbled. He began to jerk off again, staring at her pussy. If she hadn't put panties on, then that must mean she sleeps without them. This made Donnies brain turn into putty. He thought of sneaking into [Names] room and seeing her asleep. He'd pull up her shirt, exposing her perfect tits. And then he would absolutely destroy her pussy. He'd stick a finger in as he licked her clit. After that, he'd put his fat cock inside of it, being gentle to make sure she doesn't wake up. She'd toss and turn, thinking she was just having a wet dream. But oh no no, it would be her best friend fucking her. Donnie thought about this plan more and more, until he was groaning and his legs were shaking. Thick white ropes of cum spurted out from his dick, still throbbing. He shut his eyes tight, the pleasure almost sharp. This wasnt the first time or the last time he'd fucked himself while thinking of her.

When Donnie opened his eyes, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. There [Name] laid, her finger inside her pussy. She thrusted it in and out of her, one hand squeezing her tit and the other fingering her cunt. She bucked her hips, and maybe Donnie was crazy, but he swore it looked like she was mouthing his name.

Oh boy, Donnies cock was gonna hurt in the morning.

(dis was my first time writing smut guys i hoped u like :3 sorry it was kinda long lol idk how to write nd mb for typos ts is not proofread)

[normansnt]

The prince pt.4

For @skyxqueen8 (:

Sorry it might be a bit short sorry for that but I think its good lemme know how you like it also SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT IMMA TRY AND BE FASTER🫡

Warnings: reader gets beaten up, mentions of Alastor torturing

"Alastor I'll be fine, I truly don't want to bother you I see you're busy."

You tried your best to convince Alastor to let you go out alone. Now, usually he would, of course he knew how powerful you were you are the prince of hell after all, the fact that you don't like to use your powers doesn't hinder you much you use them when you're in danger.

But there have been headlines about you two dating. Vox's doing no doubt, and with the amount of people that Alastor managed to piss off during his years in hell it's really not safe for you out there.

"My dear, how could I ever be busy for you?" He asked baffled as he took a hold of your hand to stop you from leaving.

You turned around and gave him a quick kiss on his lips.

"My love, I will be just fine I can handle myself. I know the news has been full with us dating but to be fair that puts you in more danger than me, who wouldn't want to hold the kings son's lover for ransom?"

You argued back.

And you had a point, Alastor thought.

"Very well then, dear, however do not forget your radio remember you just turn it on and I shall be there as quick as possible."

You kissed him again and then smiled.

"Yes, I know"

He got you a pocket radio when he first saw the news. So whenever you need him you can just turn it to the channel you knew is his and hell be there in a second (idk lets just pretend).

You really weren't going out for anything special, you just wanted to get coffee with your dad like you do every week.

But the people who Alastor has pissed off didn't care much about where you were going they just wanted to make the fucker pay for what he has done. These were the sharks that Mimzy screwed over and Alastor had to clean her mess up. However during that clean up he kinda ate the boss's son and the boss was not please.

You could take on some annoying sharks really, but they attacked sudden. From the dark. While you were listening to music. So there really wasn't much you could do.

They showed you into an alley and started to beat you up with all sorts of junk they could find. You tried to reach the radio but when they showed you to the ground it broke.

This was when you decided to not play the part of helpless little prince waiting for his knight and used your powers to at least scare them away from you, you didn't have strength left to do anything else.

When you stood up, painfully, you reached for the pocket radio Alastor gave you, at least, for the parts of it.

"Fucking assholes" you liked that radio, you listened to Alastors podcast on it.

You knew you couldn't go see your dad in the state you were in you'd just worry him so you headed back home.

It was a hard journey with all the pain you were in but you managed.

You knew Alastor had things to do so you hoped he wouldn't be home. You didn't want to worry him.

"And who, pray tell, hurt my gorgeous little deer in such ways?" You heard the voice of your boyfriend from behind you as you entered your shared quarters.

"AHH, Fuck, Alastor I-I thought you wouldn't be-"

"Answer the question, please"

His voice was different. And as he exited from the shadows you saw that his voice was not the only thing different.

He wasn't smiling. He had a collected expression on his face, a terrifying calmness. You knew it wasn't directed at you.

He walked over to you and put his hand on your bloody cheek. He stroked your cheek with his thumb while you nestled into the warmness of his palm.

"You know those, sharks, that came here after Mimzy?" You asked him. His thumb stopped.

"Mimzy?" His voice was overly static barely audible.

"No, its not her-"

"I will be back soon" he said still overly static. And with that he left, not without leaving his shadow with you to patch you up.

"Shit" you mumbled. You wondered if you should have said anything.

Alastor's shadow made you sit down, and started tending to your wounds.

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

You woke up at 3 am to the ruckus of Alastor coming into you guys's room.

"Alastor" you whispered.

He was bloody all over as he halted on his way to the bathroom.

"Why are you up, darling?" He asked.

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"What happened."

"Ah-ah-ah dear, I asked the question first." He tried to make the situation lighter.

"Its hard to sleep when your boyfriend is out hell knows where or doing what." You answered with just a hint of anger in your voice.

You took a breath and sighed.

"Your turn"

"Well...dear I don't think you wish to hear the details I know you are not particularly fond of violence, lets just say, I have plenty of new voices for my broadcast, these are going to be longer sessions however, these filths are getting the extra special treatment."

He answered slowly, trying not to anger you further.

You were trying to keep up the strong facade but you just ended your falling into his arms mumbling how worried you were. He hugged you back tightly, holding you to his body.

"I'm sorry, my darling, no harm shall ever befall you under my eye again." He mumbled into your hair.

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

In the following weeks all everyone could talk about was how the sessions on radio demons podcast have gotten hours long, just screams for hours, this has never happened someone must have really pissed him off. From then on, Alastor stayed true to his word, no one dared to lay a finger on you.

[qiupachups]

miles.g / wiles

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭

contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him

a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)

Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.

Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.

Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.

... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.

Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!

A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.

Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.

However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.

Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.

Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.

Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.

Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.

Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.

However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.

After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.

An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.

Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.

The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.

Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.

A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.

Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.

But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.

Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.

Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.

a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.

[luveline]

What about Steve with a cry baby reader? Like she cries at everything and May be Steve is telling her about something hard but also not that deep like a fight with his parents or they r discussing exes and she starts crying bc Steve didn’t deserve heartbreak

thank you for your request! —steve tells you about his relationship with his parents and gets the comfort he deserves a few years late. fem!reader. hurt/comfort ♡ 1.7k CW mentioned child neglect

Steve indulges you every now and then with old movies. You're obsessed with those musical movies from the fifties, soft colours, cool cat leading men and blunt heroines. Your very favourite are the ones with love triangles, though Steve hasn't ever thought you'd like to be entangled in one yourself. 

Entangled in him, absolutely. "That is ridiculous," you say softly, sitting entirely in his lap, an arm around his neck and another his waist. "She loves him." 

"She does." When the heroine of Young At Heart realised one of her love interests didn't have a present for the birthday party they were going to attend together, she bought one for him so he wouldn't feel embarrassed —yet she's planning on marrying the other man. "Poor Frank. He looks shocked." 

"I'd be shocked. Lucky me, you've never sprung a sudden engagement on me," you say, your fingers rubbing mindlessly into his side. Your affection is often thoughtless. You care for him like another must-do, in time and rhythm with your breathing. 

"To another girl, you mean?" he asks warmly. 

You fluster and rub your cheek against the collar of his shirt, rolled and worn from an endless day on the couch together. He should go up and shower soon before bed, only you feel right in his lap, in no way light but a weight he's happy to bear.

You're skewed sideways, your legs laying across the rest of the couch, his legs kicked up on the coffee table. He keeps trying to force himself up for a shower and you keep leaning into his front or scratching your nails from his ribs to his hip, convincing him otherwise.

"If we ever… got engaged," you begin unsurely, eyes on the television to avoid his gaze, he's sure, "would we have a nice party like that?"

"When we get engaged we'll do whatever you want. We can have a party, send out ivory invitations with eleven point four Times New Roman font. All the trimmings." 

"Eleven point four." Your eyes soften with your smile. "What do you know about invitations?" 

"My mom had tons of stupid parties. She didn't always send out invitations, but when she did, she'd have them done right. I got to lick the envelopes." 

"Lucky Stevie." 

You shift backwards so your weight is on the couch rather than Steve, your back to the armrest and your thighs over his legs rather than on top of him. He can see your face better in this new position, and it's fitting: the love interest on TV starts spouting about how beautiful the heroine is, how her face is a tribute to the heavens if there ever were one. Smiling as you are, Steve has to agree. 

"What were they like, the parties?" 

Steve bites the tip of his tongue. "Fine," he says eventually. "They were fine. They'd set up buffet tables covered in hors d'oeuvres and everyone would walk around in their cocktail dresses and tailored suits drinking champagne and whiskey." His tone lightens toward the end, a put upon theatric for you to make it sound less snotty. 

"Did you wear a suit?" you ask. 

"Button down, usually."

"Nice! I bet you looked adorable. Do you have any photos?" 

"Honestly, baby?" Steve squeezes your leg. "I was miserable, then. You don't wanna see any photographs. I was never smiling."

"What?" 

"I hated my life. All my mom cared about was making us look like a perfect family, and all my dad cared about was work. I was happier when they started taking months-long business trips to Missouri."

"What do you mean?" you ask, putting your hand against his face. It's smaller than his but still big, still encompassing as you stroke his cheek and scratchy stubble. "You… what?"

He tells you because he knows you love him. It makes a hard thing easier, being loved. "Nothing, just, things were bad. My parents didn't even really like me, you know? They bounced me between little league and swim team and basketball when I was old enough. Track, cross country running, everything. Killer sun tan every summer." 

Any trace of a smile is gone from your face. "They didn't like you? What are you talking about?" 

"I was an annoying kid," he says. "You know how I was when we first met? Imagine that and worse." 

"There was nothing wrong with you when we first met." Your lip trembles. 

"Baby," he says quickly, on an exhale, the word half love and half apology, "don't be upset. I'm sorry, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. I'm making it sound worse than it was." 

Your eyes turn glassy. It's awful, being so close he can see the tears well, collecting in the corners of your eyes. You stroke his cheek tentatively and ignore them. 

"It was fine, sweetheart, really, I had everything. They'd leave me a fucking credit card when they went away, I never had to ask for anything. They gave me a car for my fifteenth birthday… I think they thought it was my sweet sixteen." 

Your face crumples like a wet paper towel. You try to fight it but you're a heavy crier and you always have been. It shocked Steve when you first met, how quickly you can fall into tears, but it doesn't necessarily mean you're extremely upset. He can maybe fix it before you give yourself a headache if he tries. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, dotting a kiss on the meat of your thumb. "I didn't tell you so you'd feel sorry for me." 

"I do feel sorry. I feel so sorry," you say quietly. 

"Don't cry…" Steve shifts into a better sitting position as the first tear trips over your waterline. Your hand falls to his collar. Your fingertips rub his collarbone. "I was lucky, I had everything I needed." 

"You just told me your parents didn't like you, Stevie, I wouldn't call you lucky. That they went away for months– How old were you?" 

He winces. "Fifteen?" 

"You were still a kid." 

"I was old before my time." 

"No, you weren't." You sniffle. "I didn't know about that, Stevie. I didn't know about any of this, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I never told you." 

You bring both hands up now, placed gently against his chest, talking to him with a tenderness that makes his body ache, "If you think that it didn't matter, I'm really sorry. Imagining you that young, sitting there thinking they didn't like you? That breaks my heart." You're not overly dramatic despite the tears, but you say it with conviction. "You're not supposed to feel that way." 

Steve laughs quietly. "I know that, dummy. Why're you this upset about this? It was years ago." 

"Because it happened to you," you say, pouting at him sympathetically. "I don't know. I guess I figure how heavy that must be carrying around this whole time, thinking they didn't like you and that it was your fault." 

Steve tries to say something, his mouth dry as sand, but he supposes he had said that, in a way. It is what he thought, what he thinks. If he were better, if he were more interesting, more attractive, more talented, they'd stick around. He pushed himself in every sport they'd let him play hoping he'd see his dad standing in the bleachers one day. 

"You're not annoying," you say, wiping your tears. You square your expression into a steadier set. "You're amazing. If they couldn't see it then and if they refuse to see it now, that isn't something you did, Stevie. Maybe they gave you a car and an Amex card, but what you deserved most was–" Your determination to calm down wanes as your voice turns airy and scratchy, like you're trying not to sob. "You deserved to feel cared about. 'N' I'm sorry you didn't, because I love you more than anything."

Steve pulls you in for a hug. Mostly because you need one, but it doesn't hurt to hide his face from you know. His eyes burn, his heart pounding in his throat and between his ears as his arms climb up the length of your back. He focuses on that, the feeling of his hands and his bare forearms against your soft shirt. His chin goes over your shoulder and he presses the side of his head to yours with more force than he intends. 

"Don't wind yourself up over it," he murmurs. "I know it sucks, I promise I get it, and I love that you're sorry, I love you, but it's not worth crying over. They're not worth it." 

You tuck your arms behind his shoulder. Steve indulges in your smell, the warmth of your closeness. Talking about his parents is like poking at a purple scar. It's healed for the most part, but it's far from invisible. He usually ignores it all. 

"Is it weird that I'm kind of vindicated by your, uh, reaction?" he asks under his breath, as though someone might hear him and call him out for it. "I don't want you to cry, but…" 

"I'm in your corner." You pull him impossibly closer. "I'll always be upset for you. Even if you don't think it matters anymore, that's the kind of stuff that stays with you, you know?" You kiss his hair. Twice. A third time. "Sorry, I know I always make stuff about me, crying 'n' all." 

"That's not true," he murmurs, rubbing your back. 

He hates that you're crying, but he's glad, too. Glad all that pain isn't made up. Your reaction is proof he didn't just imagine how much it hurt to always want something he couldn't quite grasp. 

"You didn't deserve that," you say. 

"I know." 

"I love you." 

He knows that too. "I love you. You gotta stop crying, okay? You need your tears for the end of the movie when he crashes his car. How are you gonna bawl your eyes out for Sinatra if you've wasted them all on me?" 

You laugh wetly. "I think I've made a wet patch in your hair." 

Steve relaxes, reassured at the sound of your laugh, precious as spun silver even doused in waterworks. "That's cool. I needed a shower anyway." 

—

thank you for reading!

[scekrex]

Adam wasn’t killed like everyone thought. Lucifer’s son aka Charlie’s little brother m!reader took him in and healed him. Charlie lets the new sinner Adam stay in the hotel after her brother begged since she loves her sweet brother so much. Adam never seen a demon so hot and falls for the reader. They’ve been secretly messing around and Luci ends up walking in on them.

Okay to clarify: Charlie in this fic is over 200 years old - reader is one year younger than her. Which makes him way younger than Adam is but I assume almost every person this man has fucked with in heaven is way younger than him

Part 2

And when his edges soften, his body is my coffin

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, sexual tension

note: not beta read bc fuck you

You knelt next to the tall angel, your hands kept pressing the shirt you had been wearing moments ago tightly against his wounds while the golden blood that had already formed a puddle around the first man stained your pants - not that you really cared. Your focus was on the dying soul in front of you. Yes Adam had been awful, yes Adam deserved to die, but on the other hand it simply didn’t sit right with you to let him die that easily, for you it felt purely wrong to give up on his tainted soul without even trying. And just as you were about to cry out for help in panic, Adam started to breathe.

Your big sister, your father and their friends had worked quite hard to rebuild the hotel and just as the last light of it flickered to life, Adam took his first breath. “Y/N?” Lucifer’s voice called out for his youngest son right before he spotted you kneeling next to Adam. With slow, heavy steps he walked over to you and the first man, suspiciously eyeing what you were doing but when the king of Hell saw how the brunette’s chest visibly pumped blood and air through his body, he looked quite shocked. “Dad, he’s alive,” your voice sounded happy, excited even and yet so broken - Lucifer didn’t move, he just stood there and watched. “We have to take him in, dad, he’s wounded.” The blonde king shook his head violently, snapping out of his haze as he processed your words slowly, then he shook his head in a softer manner - this time he used it to respond to what you’ve just said, “Nuh, no~no~no~oh, we’re not taking him in.”

Charlie appeared behind the king of Hell, your older sister - she was only one year older than you - put down a gentle hand on his shoulder, “But dad, he’s a human souls just like the other residents and as much as I hate the thought of living with him, the concept of this hotel is all about redemption, maybe Adam can redeem himself too.” And while Lucifer didn’t admit it out loud, he knew his children were right, a defeated sigh left his body and he lowered his head. The blonde was not willing to put up a fight with either you nor Charlie so he simply gave in. He always had the option to kick the first man out if he would not be willing to redeem his soul after all.

-

It had taken Adam a while to regain his strength, it had taken him even longer to accept that his angels had left him and that he was doomed to rot in Hell - though he kept telling you and the other residents that soon Sera would look for him and send Lute. But Sera never mentioned Adam in any of the meetings she held with Lucifer and Lute had not been back to Hell ever since she thought she had seen her best friend die. Not even during extermination day. But on the other hand that had forced the first man to get used to his new environment and while Vaggie was just as amused to have the brunette roaming their halls as Lucifer, Angel seemed to actually enjoy the first man’s company - even though most of their conversations were about the bitches Adam had slept with in heaven.

But you were without a doubt the demon he got along with the best, not only did you like the music he was playing, you also seemed to understand him without ever going through something similar, yet the two of you connected. The bond between you and Adam had grown strong, so strong that the brunette had you pressed against your bedroom wall, kissing your lips over and over again as his wings framed your sides - a habit he had picked up in Heaven to prevent people from staring. His lips didn’t remain on your lips though, he was eager to shower your entire body in kisses and he was determined to keep going until that goal was reached.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, gently nudging Adam to signal the former angel to give you some space. “Lemme just-” you grumbled as you took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere where it wouldn’t bother you and as soon as the soft fabric was no longer covering your skin, the brunette was on you in an instant, his hot mouth was mapping out your body like it was the most beautiful thing he ever touched, his tongue circled your nipple. And then a loud banging noise appeared right behind him and when you peeked over Adam’s shoulder you froze. Your father was standing in the door frame, just as shocked as you were. “Adam,” you mumbled quietly, trying to get the taller male to notice the king of Hell. But the angel shielding your body from your father’s eyes simply grinned against your skin as he responded, “Why don’t you moan louder for me, babes?”

Lucifer cleared his throat quite loudly and it was just then and there that Adam noticed the blonde king. His body stopped moving immediately and he just stared at you with a blank expression on his face. When a small hand reached for his upper arm to spin the angel around, Adam was sure he was gonna die - there was simply no way Lucifer would let that slide.

As soon as Adam looked down on the king, he awkwardly grinned down on the blonde, trying to charm his way out of the situation - not that his bullshit worked on Lucifer and before he knew it Lucifer’s fist collided with his face.

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #22

Best of Wish

I enjoy Irep's grit-teethed remark when he mentions Anti-Fairies can't have godkids. He's just like his dad, for real, for real.

If he's this annoyed at the thought of Anti-Fairies not being allowed godkids, that kinda implies he wants one, which is interesting. Godkids were always one of Anti-Cosmo's interests, but never something Foop pursued on purpose or ever expressed interest in.

Please enjoy this cut Anti-Cosmo dialogue from an early script for "Fairly Oddlympics" that I think about constantly:

btw, there are a lot of funny deleted scenes in the old scripts that I love talking about, especially from this one, so if you find anything that catches your eye and post about it, you should @ me because I would enjoy reading your reactions <3

Plot twist - Irep is doing healthy things to work through his "scary godparent for Vicky" trauma while Peri's reaction to Vicky trauma was to cover his ears, hide behind his mom, and sing "La la la, la la la" to pretend she wasn't there.

Peri said his memories of childhood are blurry. I wonder if Irep remembers his childhood better since he was fully able to talk and comprehend things back then.

"Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place!"

I mean... Technically yes, but you used to have to sing for it. lol.

The Pixies, who are literally last in line for godkids below all other magical beings (including pegasi, bigfeet, and lake monsters), watching Irep stroll in like: ???

- which imo was implied to be a punishment for their race after H.P. was godparent to some unconfirmed kid I've been headcanoning was Dale for 7 years-

Actually, I like the implication that Irep was so fast to snipe Dev because he's been stalking them since he found out Peri was assigned a godkid.

Irep: Once a fairy quits, any magical being can take their place! Wanda: Peri didn't quit! He was waiting for you to call! Cosmo: He thought you two were on a break! Me: ... ?????? Peri was waiting for Irep to call and take him back? Run that by me again??

... I legitimately cannot tell if they're addressing Dev or Irep. Irep was the last person to speak, but Dev speaks next. Rewinding and listening to the conversation again, I can use my context clues to see they're probably looking at Dev (who is offscreen), but ?? why would you frame it that ambiguously.

Did anyone else get confused here or was that just me?

Also this has done nothing to disprove my previous "Peri is clingy especially where break-ups are concerned" interpretation.

I like how the very first wish Dev makes in this scene isn't for his dad to love him, but for Bev to love him.

How many kids in this class have names that rhyme with Dev and why is he so determined to befriend them all?

?? Okay, so I was previously confused about Dev's friendships because I was pretty sure I remembered him saying in Episode 1 that he and Trev were friends, but we haven't seen them interact at all. I went back and checked, and here's what he says:

"That's Trev! He's my bud, so he probably won't give YOU the time of day."

I wish we got to see him hanging out with Trev. Did they split after Trev didn't come to his sleepover?

- I just checked; I don't see any evidence of Trev at Hazel's. - Hey, did Winn and Jasmine ever find out Hazel lied to them about living in a 5-star hotel? - In conclusion, we are being ROBBED of the Trev-Dev-Bev friend squad.

Looking back, it's very funny that Dev made an effort to introduce Hazel to people when she was the new kid despite that not being his job... including giving some glowing reviews of a few of their classmates, including "This guy's my bud, this person's cool, and I respect this other guy." He wants to talk...

Also, moon is full in New York.

I keep waiting for Irep's music to drop again, but it never does in this scene. It's stressing me out; why did it only drop in THAT scene?

The version I'm watching unfortunately doesn't include credits and I can't find it after a few quick searches, but if Guy Moon did the music for this episode and remembered how he used to do it for Foop and his alt personality when they would do their switch cues 14 years ago, and so when he saw that body language he did it again, I'm gonna lose it.

Surely not... But he had to do it for at least 3 seasons; maybe it just stuck??

I don't see him credited for A New Wish at all on his own IMBD or Wiki page either. idk who did this episode, but I liked it. Hi, I'm the target audience; it's me.

And Irep's still a leftie! Even after putting both hands on the mace handle to smash it down, it goes back to his left when he takes one hand off.

He even does the "sword fight" with his left hand. It's the boy!!!

?? Is Irep's hair both blue (like both his parents') AND black (the color his tuft was in the OG series)?

Are his roots black, but the color eases to dark blue the farther out it grows? That's fantastic!

I like how Peri's hair looks most like his mom's but with a faint slope implying his dad's influence is there, and Irep's hair best parallels his dad's, but he gets his curl from his mom.

Huh. Looks like we've retired the 5 magic colors and now we're just pink poofs and dark blue lightning. Which I'm okay with; I just wasn't paying attention until now. But I know lightning-shaped Anti-Fairy magic was canon in "School of Crock," maybe others.

This does deprive me of my usual 2nd-watch shtick of reading moods based on color. Alas.

I enjoy Hazel rescuing the news reporter, but letting her know that she's a big fan of her work.

Okay, Irep uses his right hand at the last second, but I consider this a win.

I went back and checked frame by frame because I'm a NERD, and funnily enough... It looks like he changes hands after Cosmo blasts him in the left arm. It's hard to tell with the poof cloud, but when you consider the direction he moved (buffeted backwards), that implies it was a left-side hit. It's probably just coincidence, but that's funny.

I like Dev's silly star shades during this scene:

Peri's back!! Old buddies, ol' counterpart pals... I love that teeny-tiny movement Peri makes with his fingers to symbolize air quotes around "quit."

"I never gave two weeks notice~!!"

Also, this definitely belongs in my collection of counterparts using the same body language for opposite moods. idk if we'll see more of that, but it excites me that my stash grows!

I like Peri patting Dev on the head.

"He's still my godkid! :)"

Ooh, snap. Local cousins (once removed) are here to lay down Da Rules, as von Strangles do.

Aw, I like how undoing Dev's cheating means Hazel ends up with the prize shirt. I guess that makes sense; it just wouldn't have been my first thought.

I'm glad adult Irep makes squeaky sounds when you squeeze him. I seem to remember OG Poof making squeaky sounds when he bounced off walls.

Aw, Peri having a happy hug with his parents again! Instead of him feeling like they're overbearing. That's great.

Peri once again proving he's a jealous, clingy ex. I don't think this kid was okay when he was pried away from Timmy and I don't think he took his parents' leaving him on his own for 10k years very well.

I really enjoy Peri's body language throughout this series. All his little twitches and arm rubs and flicking eyes... It says a million words. You could talk forever about him.

I enjoy Dev and Hazel a lot this series, but I think Peri's my favorite. With all his little anxieties and moments he avoids eye contact, you really get the sense that he's working through a lot of baggage.

I like how his instinct was to be honest with his parents and then he immediately regrets it and closes off his body language, avoiding eye contact. He retracts what he said and says something else that he thinks makes him look better. He's got a lot going on.

The fact that he makes this big, decisive head nod as he changes his story to claim he wasn't "jealously spying on Dev" after quitting as his godparent, but he was instead "very normally and confidently passing by" is fantastic. That's... not how people talk in normal conversation, Peri. But I'm glad you're telling me you struggle with confidence issues.

- I think everything I've seen of you supports that. You've been the biggest anxiety ball ever since you got here. - Peri is the guy who'd be on edge wondering if he did something to make everyone mad.

It took me forever to get the above screenshots so I had to keep rewinding, and I have to say... I'm obsessed with that itty-bitty head tilt he does to the left before he goes full right. Idk why it's there, but I like it. It's like a shrug, or like he's thinking through his lie? I enjoy.

Also that teeny-tiny head squirm when he's enjoying the hug with his parents. He's so cute.

Okay, that's pretty messed-up of Peri to laugh with his parents while Dev is in the background really upset. Like, Peri is literally talking about Dev behind his back

-> I wish they'd snuck hints of purple in the background to indicate Peri was there, like a milk carton or pencil or something.

-> I stand by everything I've previously said about Peri not being emotionally mature enough to godparent. His kid needs comfort after a tough experience! Dev just got snapped at and punished by authority and now he's sitting on the ground looking dejected, and Peri's over there giggling!

-> C'mon, man! Hazel clocked on and she's trying to do your job for you. She shouldn't have to do that! (Though it's nice of her to try comforting her friend).

Oop, Dev just yelled at Hazel (again) and Peri did not discourage or discipline him in any way, and tbh... I don't think he even noticed. Because he was laughing and talking about his godkid with his parents. Dude, get your crown in the game.

I love Hazel throwing her prize shirt in Dev's face and shouting that she "hopes it was worth it" <3

I still don't know how to spell O-pairs and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask.

omg, Dev wants to learn about Anti-Fairies. Are we going to get lore and culture? Drama...

PERI, your godkid's running away!! Oh no, he can't hear us... he's got anxiety...

[dckweed]

THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play. this chapter contains oral (m receiving), 18 & over only, MINORS DO NOT READ.

sigh I really wish i could stop procrastinating :( work & life has been busy and i keep putting my favorite hobby off. anyway, how’s life been?

also, as a reminder i love receiving asks about these two! i also love recieving maybe some drabble ideas too :) my inbox is always open!

this is normally where I post the mood board but, for some reason, it won’t attach.

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

PART SEVEN: the passenger princess and the best friends

Gator had taken to having you driving around with him at night when he was on patrol, you cozied into the passenger seat of his cruiser, music blasting from your phone as you tried desperately to create a wedding playlist for the quickly upcoming nuptials. It wasn’t how he normally spent his night when he was on duty, but he really didn’t mind it, you were cute and funny and kept him entertained throughout the long hours and after a couple of days he found that he didn’t think he could ever ride in the cruiser again without you, which is why he found himself making you a cozy passenger princess kit like he had seen on instagram one day on his day off when you were off riding horses with his dad again. Even though he was uneasy about you being alone with his dad, he’d much rather you be alone with him than alone with Boyd, he knew his dad wouldn’t lay a hand on you, nah, he would rather him do that as your future husband. Not that he ever would, he’d rather shoot himself in the dick than ever raise a hand to you.

When you got in the car to ride with him that night, you were nearly brought to tears, the thought that he had done it all for you was so sweet. “Gator, baby!” You whined, tears thick in your voice. You didn’t see the way he had to clench his fist, didn’t know the way that he had been dreaming about you saying those two words from under him, or maybe even above him..he didn’t know if you were ready for that with him yet, didn’t know if you wanted to wait until marriage or not.

“Just somethin’ to keep you comfortable, Pearlie.” He said, and you grinned, reaching over the center console of the cruiser to give him a slobbery, lip glossy kiss on his cheek (he wouldn’t let you know that those were his favorite). “Got you a blanket and some snacks down there in that little basket, and even a couple of books and an eyemask..gotta keep my girl entertained and properly rested, right?”

“You’re the sweetest, you know?” You say getting comfortable in the seat. He only hums, putting the key in the ignition. He was glad that you thought that, because he knew that there would plenty of people who would disagree with you.

“Did you enjoy your ride?” He asks, looking over at you as he drives down the dirt road of his dad’s ranch. One hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, where he had taken to resting it whenever he drove.

“Yeah, but it’s weird not riding Bubbles,” You say, squirming a little uncomfortably in your seat. You had ridden his horse, a black stallion called Rudy. “Your saddle gave me saddle ass..” His was definitely thicker and stiffer than yours, had your legs spread wider than you were used to. You were glad you wore leggings on the ride, rather than a pair of jeans, knowing it would have made it all the more uncomfortable. He chuckles as you continue on talking, telling him about what you and Roy had talked about, and then how you wanted to pick some wildflowers from the meadow for your wedding bouquet instead of buying one of those expensive ones from the florist.

A few hours later, after he’s stopped at his favorite gas station and ran in to grab you guys some drinks, and you’ve still babbled on endlessly about things that you thought were probably useless but he didn’t seem to mind, he remembers something he’s meaning to tell you, or rather, ask you.

You’re in the midst of drinking your cold Dr. Pepper when he looks over at you, a pensive look on his face. “What?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing. “Did I spill?” You run your fingertips over your neck and the collar of your shirt, the pink fabric unscathed. He shakes his head, smile tugging at his lips. “Then what is that look on your face?”

“I, uh..have something I need to ask you..” He says, straightening in his seat, eyebrows knit together. “And, please, feel free to say no- you probably should anyway-but, my uh, friends, and their uhm..wives..were wondering if you’d like to come out with them tomorrow night?” A smile spreads across your lips, looking at him giddily. “I’d be going with you, of course, don’t want them to tell you anything too embarrassing-”

“Why would i say no to that?” You ask gently, enjoying how flustered he seemed.

“Because they’re going to tell you embarrassing stories about me..” His cheeks are flushed red, the back of his neck too and he looks anywhere but at you, eyes trained on the field outside of the cruiser to the left of the intersection he’s posted at for the evening.

“Can’t be more embarrassing than what Lucy is going to tell you when she gets here..” You counter, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “I would love to meet your friends, Gator..”

He turns to look at you then, a sheepish smile on his face. “You sure, Pearlie?” He asks, and you only nod in response. “When does Lucy get here? I’m excited to meet her, the way you keep talking about her though i feel like I already have.”

“She gets here on saturday..” You say, a sheepish look crossing your face. “Was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the airport with me..’s a long drive..”

“‘Course i’ll go with you, baby.” He says, almost offended by the way his voice changes. “You never have to ask.”

You blush then, the heat rushing through you. You bite your lip, eyeing him in the darkness of the cruiser, the only lights coming from the little gadgets on the dash, illuminating him blue and pale white. You had been wanting to do more with him the past couple of days, to take things further, but he always seemed so hesitant. You were shy for some reason when it came to him, even though you never had been in the past with guys you messed around with (but never got to date, thanks to Boyd). You wondered if maybe you weren’t being obvious enough, or maybe it was because you were usually in a house where one of your guys’ parents was.

Maybe now was a good time to try. You lick your glossy lips, putting on your prettiest smile as you bat your eyes up at him, moving closer to him from where you sat perched in your now designated seat, your little pink blanket pooled at your slippered feet as you lean your body closer to him, pushing your tits together as you shift, and you don’t miss the way his eyes stare right at them even in the darkness. “You’re always so sweet to me, Gator, y’know?” His brows furrow as you inch in closer to him, face tilted up at him, lips perked as if you’re about to kiss him. “Wanna do something to tell you thank you..”

“Pearl, you don-” You shut him up with a kiss, climbing up into your seat, body stretching over the console, his large hand finds the back of your neck with ease, pulling you closer to his body with a quiet moan in the back of his throat, you can feel the cool band of his watch on your skin, cooling your nerves.

You’re as close as you can be in the tight, awkward space, your tits pressed to his chest in the angle you’ve put yourself in, but you want more, crave more..You know your first time with him shouldn’t be in the cruiser though, not on a dark and deserted road, that wasn’t how you wanted to fuck your soon to be husband for the first time, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t do something else for him, and maybe for you too if you really thought about it. His big hand is squeezing your neck as your hand moves from his hard, muscled chest down his torso and to his pants. You weren’t surprised to find that he was already hard, his cock uncomfortably pushing against the fabric of his uniform pants, you can’t help but to squeeze it a little, your hand moving up what bit of the length you could grasp from the outside of his clothing.

You hear his breath hitch, and his lips pull from yours. “Pearl-”

You shush him, looking at him with doe eyes as you use both hands to unbutton his pants, unzipping it before you reach your hand in beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling his stiff cock out. “Jus’ wanna thank you, baby..” You peck his lips once more before you lower your head down, using both hands to pump his cock as you let out a glob of spit, you were practically drooling at the sight of it. He was long and thick, his cockhead already red and clearly needy for attention that you were more than happy to give. With what you hoped was a whine that was so quiet he wouldn’t have heard it, you lower your mouth to him, moaning as you do (or maybe it was him, you honestly weren’t too sure at that moment).

“Jesus-” His hand was on the back of your head now, long fingers pulling some of your loose hair back as you get to work, bobbing and sucking, tongue swirling around him. You continue like that for a few seconds, letting him hit the back of your throat as he bucks up before you pull away, both hands wrapped around him, pumping him up and down slowly. Strings of spit strung from your lips to his cock, hanging on as you continued your work, looking up at him for just a few moments. His eyes were wide, pupils blown so far that all you could see was black as he watched you. “Feels so good baby,” He grunts, hips bucking into your hands. “Don’t fuckin’ stop, m’gonna cum..” You put your mouth back on him, sloppy sounds reaching your ears as you continue to suck, your hands still pumping what parts of his cock you couldn’t get into your mouth, all the while his hand is gripping the back of your head so tightly you thought it might bruise, his hips pumping up, bullying his cock farther into your mouth as he holds your head in place, practically fucking your face. It’s not much longer before he comes completely undone, hips pushing up into your face, his hand holding your head still as you gag on his cock, the entire thing almost down your throat when you feel it, the hot ropes of his cum pulsing out, coating your throat in his spend.

You pull away after a moment, his hand still on the back of your head, rubbing it gently as you swallow his cum, looking up at him with doe eyes and a smirk as you tuck him back into his pants, barely waiting for him to go soft before you zip him up. “Thank you.” You murmur, and he give you an incredulous look.

“You’re thanking me?” He asks, clearly bewildered. “Baby, you just gave me the best head i’ve probably ever had..I’ve never cum that fast before - it’s kind of embarrassing actually, maybe even a little worrisome- and you’re thanking me?!”

You shrug a little, cheeks heating up as he looks at you like you’re a chicken with five heads. “You deserve it.”

“Jesus Christ..” He breathes, running a hand down his face.

“Don’t take the lord's name in vain, Gator..” You mock, giggling when he swats you on the ass before you fully move back into your seat.

“Honey, you keep sucking me off like that for the rest of our lives, i might just start praising Satan..” You cackle at his words as he runs a hand down your face. “You hungry? I don’t think i’ve seen you eat any snacks..need to eat something, pearlie..”

The rest of the night is spent with you dozing on and off in the passenger seat, waking up every so often and chugging down some of your pop, hoping the caffeine content was enough to keep you awake for the rest of the shift, you didn’t think it was fair to Gator that you got to sleep while he had to stay awake all night. You’re in another spout of dozing when the car starts to move, waking you up with a start.

You hear the cackle of his radio before you take note of the sky turning lighter by the second, looking over at him with bleary eyes. “Officer Tillman, heading in to the station.” You hear someone talk back on the line, unable to quite make out what they say before he gives a confirmation back and puts both hands on the steering wheel.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands.

“Time to go home, baby.” He says softly, looking over at you. “Put your seatbelt on Pearlie girl, you’re breaking the law..”

You hum in response, reaching your hand up blindly for the belt.

While you had been spending most nights or mornings at the Tillman house, Boyd had wanted to get caught up on the wedding plans, which Gator had somehow remembered and drove you back to the estate, a foreboding feeling washing over you as he pulling up, the dark sky breaking to day as he pulls to a stop in your usual spot.

“I hate this house.” You murmur, your face darkening as you stare up at it.

Gator hums from the driver's seat of the Jeep, eyes not leaving you as he reaches over for your hand, clasping it in his own before bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“I know, baby..” He murmurs back, rubbing his thumb along the back of your knuckles. “Just a couple more weeks and I’ll get you out of here for good, yeah?” He would make sure that you never had to step foot back in this house unless it was on your own terms. Even if the two of you didn’t work out, even if you guys ended it after the two years that he had noted were mentioned in the contract he had signed, he would make sure that you never had to come back here, that you would be out from under Boyd forever.

The house was quiet when the two of you snuck in, closing the front door as quietly as possible. There weren’t any lights on yet, and the girls’ nanny wasn’t here yet, Boyd was nowhere to be seen or heard, hopefully out on the ranch somewhere. You quietly made your way up the stairs, treading quietly to your room at the end of the hall where you close and lock the door behind you, not wanting to be bothered.

“Bed..” You groan, kicking your shoes and pants off, crawling up the comfortable mattress. Gator wasn’t too far behind you, his body falling down next to you just as you’re starting to doze off again, arms folding around you, pulling you into his warm chest as he does. “G’night, Gator..” You whispered, falling into sleep.

You don’t hear him say it back, or the whispered ‘I love you’ that follows a kiss to the top of your head.

You’re oddly nervous to meet his friends, aside from his family they’re the only people that actually know him, and knew him when he was younger. They got to know all the parts of him that you never did, good and bad, and you hoped that you lived up to their expectations. You spent over an hour getting ready, putting on one of your prettiest, but most casual dresses, and the boots that your mama gave you. Spent so long on your hair and makeup that you could tell that he was getting agitated with you, even though he wasn’t out right saying it. He kept stopping behind where you were sat at the vanity, looking at you and then looking at his watch again. Things with Boyd had been awfully tense earlier, your nerves were already rattled because of it and he knew.

“Why are we even meeting at a bar? I’m under 21..” You say, face contorted as you contoured your jaw line and cheek bones just the slightest bit.

He looks at you, eyes pinched. “Because you’re going with me, they’ll let you in, and even so m’not gonna let you drink around these idiots.” He sighs and watches with hopeful eyes as you set down your brush, only to pick up another, and a little compartment of pink something or other that he was sure you were going to start applying to your cheeks.

“Would you quit pacin’ back and forth?” You mutter, swiping your makeup brush across your cheeks in the direction that flattered you most, the blush you were laying down blending perfectly. “Just need to lip gloss and grab my purse..”

“Don’t need no damn purse-” He says, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “You think I won’t pay for all your stuff anyway?” He was still out of sorts that you grabbed your purse any time the two of you went out together.

You pout. “What else am i going to carry my extra makeup or period stuff in?”

“I’ve got pockets don’t i?”

He’s exasperated with you by the time you decide you’re ready to leave, ushering you out the door (sans purse), and in a hurry to get to the bar. You couldn’t tell if he was eager for you to meet his friends or if he was genuinely nervous. Your nerves were shot, sure, but it wasn’t anything that you were too scared about, it made you wonder what was so wrong with his friends that he was.

The bar is noisy by the time the two of you arrive, your arm looped through his, a red and green neon sign hanging above the door and in a couple windows, he lead you through, nodding towards a raucous table of patrons in the back corner before he stops at the bar, ordering a cold budweiser. “And a Diet Dr. Pepper for my girl here,” He says, slipping the bartender a twenty dollar bill. You lean into him, looking up with a smile. A squeeze of your hand is your response as he turns to survey the room, his free hand raising up to signal to the group of people from earlier. Next thing you know, there’s an obviously pregnant dark headed woman around his age bounding up to you, cheeks red with a smile as she lets out a happy squeal and wraps her arms around your fiance’s neck, tearing his arm from yours without warning.

A flash of jealousy flashes through you briefly as his arms go around her, though his face clearly says he’s caught off guard before a smile crosses over it. “Jesus Christ Lo, didn’t think you could run this far along-” He mutters, a half hearted chuckle leaving his lips as a smile spreads across the womans lips. He turns to you immediately, his arm going around her shoulders, giving them a good squeeze and you can tell from the way that they lean into each other that they have a close relationship, but obviously not in a romantic way. It makes you smile. “Lo, this is my Fiance, Pearl, this is one of my best friends, who is married to my other best friend, Lo.”

“You are absolutely glowing!” You say, smiling happily at the woman, whose eyes immediately gloss over and you start to panic, why is she crying? You look frantically to Gator, who only shakes his head in response to your frantic eyes. “I mean..i’m..um…please don’t cry-”

“Oh Gator! She’s adorable!” The woman starts to sob and you open your mouth, eyes furrowing in worry. “You’re so cute, gonna be just what he needs!” She pulls a white tissue out of her purse and shakes it out, holding it under her eyes. “Don’t mind me, y’all, im not sad, just really freakin’ pregnant!”

You breathe a deep breath of relief, and somehow, manage to get through the rest of the night without any anxiety. You get to know his friends, telling you about all the stories they have to tell you, embarrassing their friend to no end. It was nice to see him be able to relax and be himself, something you hoped you would get to see more of in your time with him to come.

They didn’t bat an eye at the fact that you were barely 19, but, they had known Gator a most likely his father long enough to realize that the Tillman men had a type (hell, you had been around only a short time and you noticed it the first time you met his step mom) when it came to their women, and were probably used to it, or didn’t feel the need to question it.

As the night wore on you became more comfortable with the group and their girlfriends and wives, who were all close to Gator in the same sense that he was close to his sisters, by the time he had a couple beers in him you had been willingly dragged off by the pool tables, the jukebox in the corner of the bar turned up and loaded up with a bunch of songs that the girlfriends and wives had you dancing too, laughing and generally having a good time as you got to know them, enjoying the girl time.

You don’t know about the conversation happening in the corner at the table, don’t know the way two of the guys are looking over at your group, smiles on their faces.

“She’s a good one, ain’t she?” Brady, Gator’s best friend since elementary school (and Lo’s husband) asks, bringing his lukewarm bottle of beer to his lips. “Think this whole thing is gonna last?”

“Yeah, I do.” Gator says quietly, his eyes not leaving you as you dance hand in hand with Sydney, Lo’s sister, a grin as big as texas on your face. Brady had been the only friend that he had told about how he came to meet you, about how your parents were forcing both of you to do this. Brady knew what his relationship with Roy was like, and didn’t pester him about why he didn’t just say no like a grown adult could, just offered his support in any way that he needed. “She’s..she’s different, Brady. She’s like..like how you told me you felt about Lo all those years ago? She’s that, man..and I know it sounds crazy because i’ve only known her a few weeks, but man..she’s just..everything..” That didn’t even began to feel like an accurate way to describe the way he was beginning to feel about you, but it would have to do for now.

“Well, it’s about damn time you found it.” Brady says, clapping him on the shoulder be catching the time off of his watch. “Shit, i didn’t realize it was that late, better get Lo home to bed, i’m sure the sitter could use a break from the rascals.”

Gator hums and looks at the watch, nearly choking. It was after eleven, his dad would kill him for coming home this late, and Boyd would probably kill the both of you too. It was worth it though, he decides as he scoots out of the booth and makes his way towards you, still spinning hand in hand with the girls, big cheesy grin on your flushed face.

“Mind if I steal her?” You hear from behind you, and you stop what you’re doing to face him, happy smile spreading across your lips. “It’s time to go baby, gettin’ real late..” He says, spinning you slowly in his arms, just like he did that night in the kitchen.

“I think they like me.” You giggle, tipping your head back to look up at im, he can’t resist pressing a kiss to the tip of your flushed nose, not giving a shit that there were people around.

“I think they like you too.” He says, lips curving upwards at the way your nose scrunches up. “It’s time to get you to bed though, gotta go dress shoppin’ for the engagement party tomorrow, right?”

It took you a bit of goading, but you managed to let him give you the keys, reminding him that a member of the law enforcement should probably set the good example by following the law he enforced and he had to admit, you had him there. He had only had three, and he wasn’t tipsy, but you sounded so pretty begging him that he caved and tugged them out of his pocket before slipping them into your patiently waiting hand, mentally praying that you didn’t drive like a maniac down the back roads of Lehigh this late at night (you did, he nearly pissed himself).

taglist: @ruth-barnes @justherebecausesafarisucks @daisy-is-a-writer @xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @girlwiththerubyslippers @keerygal @lilllbabyyy @boa-hemian @sweetdazequeen @emilyj444 @whisperingwillowxox @babyqnn @lou-la-lou @aestheticaltcow @finalmoondragon @boxofsmittens @pollyspocketdimension @kassy-munson @frostandflamesfanfic @mysticalstar30 @totally-bogus-timelady @nerdypinupcrystal @emmiecrush5-blog @witchcovenboys @starksbabie @marrowfrog00 @boop369 @lelenikki @xmalfoyweasleyx @girlwiththerubyslippers @keerysfolklore @gothicwidowsworld @palmtreesx3 @sacr1ficial-lamb @kingdomkitten32 @littlelovebug98 @cillsnostalgia @stardancerluv @iamaconfusedpan @cupofjoekeery @underthecanyonmoon @redrae

[frenchie-sottises]

Back at it With the Punch Out Headcanons.

It's been a long while since I've done any Punch Out Headcanons, and combined with the fact that I looked through my old posts and may or may not have cringed a little, I'm gonna add some more headcanons and update some current ones. (Mostly cause they were made out of little information I had at the time.)

Also, just throwing up a warning real quick as some of these headcanons do mention some heavier topics like familial abuse and childhood neglect for some of these boxers. However, they don't go into detail.

Glass Joe:

I called him a cinnamon roll last time, and that still holds true, but I didn't realize how sassy this man was. Telling you you're bad for his health, making it clear he's coming for you by pointing at you like you just committed a crime, this mfer has some spunk for having a hundred losses to a single victory. He's still extremely chill, but he's not above throwing hands if necessary.. even if he might lose.

100% the type of person to make baked goods for someone if they're down or it's their birthday. Part of the reason why he likes taking his friends to lunch.

Even though the WVBA doesn't seem to have an age limit, especially apparent with boxers like Gabby and Hoy, he's still not looking forward to the day he must retire. He enjoys boxing, it's why he's still kicking despite losing so much, and he hates the idea he won't be in the ring anymore.

Tumblr has broken his humor.

Von Kaiser:

Was exposed to so much propaganda as a kid that he makes a point to learn all sides of the story purely out of spite.

His dad was in the military, so respect was almost literally beaten into this man's head as he grew up. However, despite the trauma, he doesn't believe in his father's tactics, so he chose to turn his boxing career into a place where he can teach other kids the proper way to become respectable adults without the trauma he was put through.

Has a difficult time expressing his feelings, but will eventually give in if it's someone he's close to or with enough coaxing. However, the quickest way to gain his trust and help him open up is to respect his space. His expressions make it pretty clear what he wants.

Kinda has to be dragged to make any sort of online presence. He only has a Facebook and a Tumblr. It would've been strictly Facebook had Joe not encourage him to make a Tumblr. (The site has also broken his humor.)

Disco Kid:

Has 100% wore your typical 80s disco fashion. There's a reason why he's called "Disco Kid." His grandparents were big disco dancers, which eventually got passed down to him. Rollerskating's pretty much paired up with that, so he breaks it down.

Is quite an oddball when it comes to being a boxer. With his history, you'd think he'd just stick with being a dancer, but he's never liked the idea of his passion being his profession. He likes the freedom in his dancing, so it's staying as a hobby. Of course, you need money for hobbies, you saw his car, so he took up boxing when he saw a poster for a WVBA match. He may not be the best, but he loves boxing enough to want to incorporate it with his dancing.

Has made it a mission to learn every instrument there is! He loves his disco stuff, but he has a general love for music. Old, new, fancy, simple, it doesn't matter. If it exists, he wants to learn it.

Is one of the more tech savvy boxers of the group. There's a chat in the Discord server that is solely for memes cause he wouldn't stop posting them in general. ("I've been kicked for posting memes in general. Help-") May or may not be part of the reason Joe's and Von's humors are broken.

King Hippo:

He may be royalty, but he's one of the most humbled beings you'll ever meet. He's definitely an acts of service kind of guy, so he's holding doors open for people, giving people food, using his money to help the citizens on his island, his mother raised him well.

Has personally fought and chased Airbnb off of his island after they tried their greedy bullshit. They already cause people in other places problems, he'd be damned if they're welcomed on his island! (It was televised too, so his appearance alone made even Sandman shake in his boots.)

You're not gonna believe this, but.. Hippo can speak English. He can speak it really well, actually. His iconic way of speaking originally started for show, but became his main way of talking, but English was his first language, so, on the few occasions where he needs to actually talk, he surprises everyone in the room with it.

Has experience in architecture. Safe to say it's one of his biggest passions, and he uses it often to help his citizens because why be a king if you just sit on your ass all day when you can help your people instead? He sneers at most kings he's heard about.

Piston Hondo:

He's such a snarky lil shit in the ring, it's almost comical. He does it on purpose just to cause problems. He's fine outside the ring, but the boxers can tell when he's out to cause problems when his moves his eyebrows more than he normally should.

Second to Tiger when it comes to being a clean freak. He sneezes at the littlest things, so he has air filters and humidifiers all over his home. It's helped quite a bit! If he's in a room where it's dirty, he immediately goes into cleaning mode, outfit and all.

His love for drawing and art still holds true. He gets easily inspired, so he always has a sketchbook on him. He eventually picked up digital drawing, feeling unsure at first, but his determination led him to discover how much he loved it! He now makes a point to learn different forms of art, having made a room in his home dedicated to all things art.

Sneaks up on people too easily. He doesn't even do it on purpose most of the time, he's just very light on his feet. Not even the lightest sleeper can hear him moving around when it's three in the morning. 100% mastered this to raid the fridge, there's no way you're this quiet without picking it up somewhere.

Bear Hugger:

Got his knowledge and love for nature from his dad. He fully understands and accepts nature in all her beauty and ugliness. This also means that anything you'd want to know about nature, he's your go-to. He isn't one to sugarcoat things, so any information you wish to know is to be done at your own discretion. (Is also one of Casual Geographic's biggest fans as he keeps it straightforward while also having master word play.)

May or may not have his DNA altered via a were..bear bite. Yeah, who knew his sparring partner was a mythical being? He paid no mind till he started noticing the typical changes found in such a transformation. His speed and strength led to him breaking his tools by accident fairly often, and his sharpened senses overwhelmed him a few times, but he's adjusted to this and uses these abilities to his advantage, especially in hunting. He's thought about possibly climbing the ranks while he still has the time, but is still unsure as he doesn't mind where he currently sits.

Will fight and has fought people who litter without a second thought. The forest he lives in used to be covered in trash, which he spent weeks cleaning, so he takes massive offense to those who don't bother to throw away their trash. If the person purposely does it after being warned? Only God can save you, cause he's thrown people's whole selves into trashcans. (His werebear abilities make this easier to do.)

Was originally gonna be a massage therapist before attending one of his mother's boxing matches. He has always been good with his hands, so he went all the way and gained his license for it. Of course, he prefers boxing, but he hasn't let his license expire, so he still holds the therapist title!

Great Tiger:

Number one clean freak out of everyone in the WVBA. No one knows where he got it. He doesn't even have health issues that require it like Hondo does, but he feels the need to keep his house clean. This also, by extension, means he keeps himself extremely clean. It's not to insufferable levels like with Don, but he always has a light scent of lavender on him. If he was in a dirty room, or a dirty home, you're gonna see about thirty clones all dressed up and cleaning the place.

If the light shines on him just right, his eyes almost look like they're made of liquid gold. He gets a lot of compliments on his eyes, it's ridiculous. It's either the eyes, or the mustache, which, he won't deny, his mustache is pretty fabulous. He loves the compliments, but he does get a bit overwhelmed if they get too much.

Has a deep love for mythology. It doesn't matter where it's from, he reads and learns all he can about it. He's one of the few boxers who suspects Bear Hugger might've had something happen to him due to the subtle changes he's picked up. He's also dressed up as a vampire on a few occasions just for funsies.

He doesn't want to admit it, but whenever he wears a sash belt, the extra bit behaves like a cat's tail. He tries to control it, but it's apparent when he's irritated, it flicks around just like that of a cat. The only thing it doesn't do is lift straight up, which is something that happens when a cat is happy to see you, but it does curl at the end.

Don Flamenco:

For being as cocky as he is, if he feels like he's in the wrong in any way, he's apologizing FAST. He can't imagine ever hurting someone, even if it's unintentional. He also struggles to not cry as he admits he was wrong, but, dammit, he can't help it.

Absolutely adores games that encourage creativity like Sims and Minecraft. He's always looking forward to designing houses and gardens in these games, using any and all tricks he knows to bring extra pizazz to them. It's even better when Carmen's around to join in. His favorite of the bunch is probably Sims 4. Animal Crossing is a close second. (And you know, damn well, that they got the fanciest, gothic houses in the games.)

Don't ever assume Don performs actual bullfighting, cause this man will not let you hear the end of why he's against it. He's one of cultural heritage, but bullfighting is a disgrace in his eyes and looks forward to the day it's illegal across the country. He'd rather fight the bull with his bare hands in a test of strength than ever bring out a weapon.

Doesn't realize how much his perfume bothers people. He loves the smell of perfume, especially anything floral because of course this dude loves his flowers. He gets fussed at a lot for it, so it's a miracle Mac wasn't fazed by it.

Aran Ryan:

His parents are both terrible. The father pretty much drank his life away while the mother ran away. Because of this, Aran was forced to grow up and fend for not only himself, but also for his little sister, Arabella. It's mostly the explanation for his unhinged and masochist-like behavior. Most people don't fuck with crazy.

Despite his rough background, he was able to get help from neighbors, who all silently agreed to take turns watching the two cause American foster systems tend to not fair much better. He worked at several jobs once he was sixteen. He's worked anything from cashier work to yard work and even some automotive work. He wasn't able to finish school, he dropped out as soon as he started working, but eventually got his GED once he took up boxing and got a steady income to help keep Arabella in school.

Does not give a fuck about what people say about him, but will be on the verge of wailing on someone if they dare trash talk his sister. Soda's had to hold him back a few times cause he'll halt the match to fight whoever said some bs, he doesn't play. Luckily, for everyone involved, anyone with a sane enough mind will not dare cross that line.

Thanks to the WVBA and the neighbors, this is the craziest he'll ever get. Outside the ring, he's pretty much one of the most chilled boxers you'll meet. The most he does is pranks, which all go for annoying the people he targets. You can take the Irish man out of the chaos, but you'll never take the chaos out of the Irish man.

Soda Popinski:

Number one cat magnet. He can't explain it, nor is he trying, but cats love him. He can literally just sit on a bench in a random spot, and it wouldn't even take two minutes before a cat comes out of the wild for some pets. He was even once bombarded with a whole bundle of kittens when he saw one on the side of the road one day. He took them all home, named them, and takes great care of them. Tiger seethes with jealousy.

His calm nature is the Yin to Aran's chaotic Yang. He was one of the first boxers to greet Aran when he first joined, and lent an ear to all the stuff Aran was going through and had to get off his chest. After that, the two pretty much became best friends. He's even helped babysit Arabella a few times if no one else was around to help. It's a bromance at this point. Only Soda can calm Aran down if something, or someone, severely pisses the Irish man off.

Has an immune system of steel. Not even diseases like Covid can faze this man. People suspect it's the soda, but it actually lies in the fact that Soda's technically a genetic experiment gone undetected. Someone messed up the shots and his mother got the shot the Russian government was using to make super soldiers. No one knows about it.

No one has successfully hid from this man, his sixth sense for sniffing out bullshit is insane. Don was sent to get drinks, but came back claiming the store was closed, but Soda pointed out the shirt he left with had tiny flowers, but the one he was wearing currently is only dots. Then Disco came in late for his training sessions, claiming he caught the train, but Soda told him that there's a road that avoids it altogether and questioned why he didn't just take that route. It's almost annoying for the other boxers how quickly he puts them on the spot.

Bald Bull:

Mother died when he was only ten, so the rest of his childhood was handled by his shitty father. Despite being the oldest of three, his father gave his younger brother the ranch due to his disapproval of Bull taking up boxing. He kept what his mother said in mind: to follow his dreams, so he did. He's tried to keep contact with his siblings, but they cut contact with him despite knowing their father is in the wrong. He's understandably bitter about it.

When he has himself a me day, he dresses up in his biker gear and drives his saddlebag bike with the ape hangers. (Ape hangers are high sitting handlebars that encourage upright posture.) His helmet conceals his identity, so no one knows it's him driving around and having fun. He became a rebel/biker as a way to break free from his father's control, so it's forever a part of him. He's also outrun the cops on several occasions. They still haven't caught him!

When it's a good day, he's got that extra bit of shithead energy about him. Doesn't even care if he gets his ass beat by Sandman, when he feels good, he's taunting EVERYBODY. His favorite method of taunting is taking the heaviest dumbbell available and lifting it while cocking an eyebrow and grin while the person is down. Heaviest he's done is 260lbs. He's aiming for higher.

His love for Turkish delights came from his mother making them every weekend after dinner. They hold a special place in his heart, using the same recipe his mother wrote for him, along with several other of her recipes, to keep ever since he took up cooking classes. Will burn someone's house down if something ever happens to that little booklet.

Super Macho Man:

Pissing off people is his specialty. Even when he's not really trying, he'll say something extremely dumb that encourages one of the other World Circuit boxers, usually Sandman, sometimes Bull, to come and beat his ass. He's either oblivious, or he's secretly a masochist, cause this happens a lot.

Takes the BIGGEST offense when someone doesn't recognize him. He thinks he's super famous, and there's some truth in that, but you'll always have people who don't keep up with celebrity drama, so his dramatic self gets salty when the person claims to not recognize him. "Well, I thought I was more popular than that!"

Despite being a dick most of the time, he has his silly moments. People compare him to Randy Savage, they're being generous, so he'll go out of his way to quote him with the voice and everything. He's nothing like the guy other than name, but he does find it endearing and will happily give his fans free meme material. He even quotes memes made of Randy, even the breathing one. He almost passed out.

Loves musicals. He was a huge theatre kid, so he's really good at playing assigned parts and has an extremely good singing voice. (Disco may or may not be slightly jealous.) Absolutely got hooked on musicals like Hamilton, The Count of Monte Cristo, and even the Heathers! Doesn't care he's a buff dude, let him wear the costumes and play those leading roles!

Mr. Sandman:

BIG momma's boy. His mother basically raised him on her own, making sure her boy never lost his way once he got out there. He's grateful for having such a loving mother, and he often gifts her a good chunk of his paycheck so she can treat herself nicely. Not much is known about what happened to the father, but he was a former boxer.

Had dreadlocks at one point in time. Took amazing care of them, even sometimes decorating them with golden braid clips. When they fully matured, they made him look like a lion. He was super proud of them and was upset that they got in the way when he decided to take up boxing. He tried to tie them up in a ponytail, but some of the matches he had got heated, and it led to some of his locks getting ripped out. He plans to regrow them once he enters retirement.

Quietly thanks Mac for taking the belt from him that day. He aimed to be the best, not because of his insecurities, but because he wanted to ensure he could provide for his mom. He thought claiming the belt was it, so when Mac took it, he got the much needed kick in the ass to realize that he doesn't need to be perfect to help out. He's already top dog, so he's already reached that goal.

He tries hard to be stoic, but he can't help but chuckle at some of the shenanigans that occur with the other boxers. Aran smacking Bull's head really hard and getting decked for it? He snickered. Soda constantly putting people on the spot? He smirks at it. Macho almost passing out from doing that one Randy meme? That took some self control, especially when all he heard was Macho falling on his back with a loud "THUD" when he had his head turned.

Extra:

Carmen:

At first glance, she seems incredibly tame, but she's feisty! If someone angers her enough, she'll straight up rip a nearby door off its hinges and beating them with it. Hell, when she's really happy about something, there's a chance she'll kick the door on the wrong side and rip it off the hinges. She's had to replace the doors around the house a few times due to this, and Don finds it hilarious.

Pastel goth type. She was a pink hater for a long while, but the color grew on her. She's also incorporated other pastel colors into her wardrobe. May or may not also have Monster High stuff that she wears as well.

Works as a hairdresser. She colors and styles her hair often, and it's done so well that her girlfriends got her to do their hair. Some of them eventually suggested to her to pick up hairdressing as a profession, which she decided to give a shot and winded up loving it. She's even helped Don with coloring his hair a few times cause he tends to make a mess when he does it.

Cannot sing to save her own life. She was long ashamed of it too, but Don truly doesn't care whether or not she can sing. Due to this, she slowly regained the confidence to sing her heart out again. Anyone who judges or dares to wish for her to shut up will be met with a very angry Don.

Arabella:

She can do no wrong. No, seriously, she's far too sweet to even attempt the kind of bs Aran pulls on a regular basis. Unfortunately, this also means she's gotten bullied a few times as other kids think she's an easy target, especially considering she's chunky and is likely on the spectrum. When Aran had to try and teach her to defend herself, she questioned why she couldn't be friends with them instead.

People make jokes Joe is the baby of the WVBA, because, y'know, his record, but it's really Arabella. Literally everyone has adopted her. If she ever needs help with anything, there's always someone around to help her. Homework? Hondo, Soda, and even Macho can all help. Friendship advice? Disco is literally the extrovert. If she gets bullied? Well, God help the school board cause everybody's showing up. It's hard to not spoil her cause she's such a good kid.

There's a good chance she could be an engineer when she grows up. She comes up with the most creative, and sometimes simple, ways to solve an issue. Her and Aran had to use bunk beds for a while, but nobody really told them how to properly bunk the beds, so Arabella dug into the closet and grabbed a couple of hangers that they could break and use. Surprisingly, they worked really well. Aran's pride shows when he tells this story.

She loves to color in her free time. She has a whole drawer's worth of coloring books and coloring supplies. When she's done, she often gifts the boxers her work, which is also often themed based on what she thinks fits them. They cherish her work, often framing it and hanging it around their apartments. Some of her work is even on display around the gym they train at. She mostly uses crayons and coloring pencils, but she's been learning to use markers as well. She loves the alcohol markers.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Vergil's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Vergil's Path

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all.

Author's Notes: Fucking finally part 2 hahahaha I deeply apologize for taking so long to post Vergil's part. As some of you might have seen here, my dad suffered an accident and my life turned upside down the last few months - I'm still managing, doing damage control hahaha but slowly getting back on track with my writing.

But here is Vergil's part! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand this madness and, if you're a Dante appreciator, fret not, the red devil part is here.

I have to thank my dear friend @furyeclipse for sending me this idea as an ask a thousand years ago - and now, it is finally done! You can check Fury's work on ao3 right here, I highly recommend it!

I'm also going through a phase of powerful monsters (vampires, demons, the whole unholy pantheon) being on their knees for their human partner and, oh boy, it shows. I'm not apologizing. Oh. And the Helen of Troy/Sparta is NOT a gendered thing. It's more of being recognized as the most beautiful among mortals, enough to cause a war for their love. And yes there's a Ghost reference in there, I FINALLY got to properly listen to their music and man, why did I sleep on them for so long??

Devil May Halloween 2023 - Vergil's Path

Demonic marriages. There was a topic you had to admit you were completely ignorant about.

Vergil had mentioned it once. You did ask him when Sparda’s and Eva’s union arose as a subject in one of your researches one day – for, as far as you knew, marriages were religious and it did make you wander if demons had their own religion or only rituals.

That subject was very muddy, as per Vergil’s words. His own knowledge on the matter was very limited – and that was something new for you.

“Hmmm. A very good question indeed.” Vergil murmured as he put down his book on the table, raising his silvery eyes to you. The library was dead quiet, but his voice was always so low it wasn’t a concern – even if you both were the only living beings in that place at that hour. “You could say some demons are powerful enough to be viewed as gods, but those would be only the likes of Mundus.”

“And Sparda…?” Oh, you had to ask. After all, wasn’t Sparda the only demon strong enough to defeat Mundus? Who could ever defeat a being as powerful as a god? Only a god as well, at least in your mortal eyes.

Vergil allowed a proud smile to spread over his lips as nodded in agreement.

“Well, we do have Fortuna as an example of people worshipping demons as gods, so humans praying to demons doesn’t really surprise me. There are plenty of cults and even churches who do that.” You shrugged, organizing your books and papers, passing him a list of demonic cults you had been keeping track over the years. You weren’t one to judge, but, seeing your occupation was to slaughter demons, it was always good to keep an eye on them. “Eva and Sparda getting married made me wonder. Marriages are very religious, how did Sparda deal with that? Given his story, I don’t think it was only a civil ceremony for government benefits, right?”

“Right indeed…” Vergil once again murmured, curiously reading your list. It was a very thorough and good document, and he couldn’t stop himself to think how it was smart of you to do that. He had a list of people to keep an eye on as well now. “I’ve never really wondered about that as a child, for I didn’t know much of the world back then. We tend to accept that what we see and what it’s said to be true… But after I started researching and learning, it did spark my interest. As far as I can tell you, my father accepted my mother’s faith and married her by her rules, not the opposite. He would never do that just out of a civil agreement, he really did it for love.”

“So even with the power of gods, demons don’t have religions.”

“Again, that is a very good question. I never could really answer it with certainty.” Vergil sighed, leaving your list on the table between you and raising his silvery eyes to yours once more. “As impressive as it sounds, demons don’t lack faith. Some of them do worship more powerful demons as deities, and some of them do join each other in cults. As far as I could observe in Hell, they are very similar to humans on that matter: each has their own set of rules and beliefs and most of them kill each other for their ‘gods’.”

“Huh. Humanity once again proving they can be quite demonic.” You scoffed while rolling your eyes. Religious wars were as old as History itself and it was quite ironic for you to hear that was something present in demonic History as well.

“Or demons proving once again they have something of human after all.” Vergil shrugged after observing you a few long seconds, before turning his eyes to another one of his books again. “I’d argue not all humans, though. Differently from demons, most of them save themselves from being devilish and evil.”

“Hmmm. A few demons can also save themselves from that fate.” You had a slight smile on your lips, turning to your tea mug nearby. “And those who do can be even kinder than humans.”

That conversation would find its end right there that night, as both of you went back to your books and research – but you were able to see a slight smile on Vergil’s lips and how his eyes seemed to have softened after that.

Even if your Dark Slayer could soften under your words, you doubted other demons would do that – and even went as far as doubting they would have something close to a human heart. Vergil was different from all the demons in that place; and so, marriage was the last word you ever expected to hear.

But there you were, locked in a derelict room with Kyrie, surrounded by the long gone gothic architecture of a cathedral that once stood proud among those lands – now rotten, decayed, desecrated and with its colorful glass mosaics shattered everywhere, it was taken by demons to perform their unholy ritual.

“We’re really in it now, aren’t we Kyrie…?” You sighed back to the only human soul with you in that place – the only hope in that godforsaken night, lit only by the flickering warm light of candles. “Marriage. I did not expect it would be this way, though, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I didn’t expect it either…” Kyrie sighed in complete desolation, staring at a loose stone on the floor. “Nero is going to be so mad.”

“I can only imagine.” You answered with a giggle, taking a seat at rotten wood bench that once served as a place for priests to read while doing their own religious researches. “I don’t think Vergil is going to be very pleased as well.”

“Oh.” And it finally seemed to down on Kyrie who your lover was and how much trouble those demons were in. “Did he… Ever tell you about something like this…?”

“Well, marriage is not really a topic that usually arises with Vergil…” You had your eyes lost on an old bookcase, imagining if any of those would be worth a read. Not that you had too much time for that at the moment, but you were quite disturbed. If it was only you in that situation, you would be more at ease, but Kyrie’s presence changed everything. “But he did tell me about a similar ritual between humans and demons. The human usually isn’t a consenting participant though.”

Raising your eyes to hers, Kyrie felt a shiver down her spine. She knew exactly what you meant and that whole situation was also quite frightening for her – in a matter of fact, she probably wasn’t that scared because you were there; but even that didn’t help much. Not when both of you had no idea what was going on.

“I hate the fact they took my weapons. I’m thinking of a thousand ways to get out of here, but I can’t do it without at least my sword.” You rested your head on one of your hands, looking completely defeated. Kyrie had pity in her eyes, sitting by your side right after.

“Well… This isn’t exactly the sort of wedding dress I would choose either.” She sighed in desolation making you snort a quick laugh. “I’m not comfortable in this. I can only imagine how naked you feel.”

“Don’t tell me about it…” You rolled your eyes, pointing at your own attire. You and Kyrie looked positively ridiculous: it was as if the demon in charge of your clothes had only seen a bunch of 80’s movies depicting marriages and thought they had to be even more over the top than that. You could barely move in your own clothes and hated every single second of being in that thing. “If I at least had my gun, I’d shoot the bastard who thought this was acceptable.”

Kyrie had to giggle. It was always endearing to see how some of Vergil’s mannerisms spilled into yours over the time and vice versa. Your voice was as sharp as a piece of ice and your eyes had the same predatorial gaze – even if your words sounded funny in context.

“Couldn’t you use your summoned swords? Like Vergil?”

“I could but I shouldn’t.” Your answer was a little slow, because you were considering it. Using summoned swords was always an advantage, but it did come with its limitations. “Vergil is teaching me how to use all his arcane knowledge, little by little… But I’m human.” As you looked at Kyrie, she seemed to immediately understand what you meant: after all, she was the human companion of a half-demon as well. “It takes a lot of energy. Vergil can tap into his demonic energy that, honestly, it can power a whole city when he’s in the right mood. When it comes to me, though, I can only go so far. It takes a lot more concentration and I can do it only for a while – I’m a novice at it even, so I can’t hold it for too long. I need to train a lot more to be able to take an entire mission, for example.”

“Hmmm. It’s just like when Nero trains me with Credo’s sword…” Kyrie mumbled, resting her head on both of her hands, while her elbows leaned on her knees. You had to giggle: she looked like a bummed out child. “It’s so heavy, I can only do a couple of moves and I get tired quickly.”

“Is that why you’ve been training strength at the gym recently…?” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. There was something of sweet about that.

Your little angel was soon going to become a buffed little angel waving a big ass sword around. You loved that concept. Nero’s jaw would hit the floor.

“Exactly.” But Kyrie had the most angelic of smiles on her lips. You knew how it was important to her to be able to use Credo’s sword, even if it was just to protect herself and the children of the orphanage – she was never going to become a devil hunter like you. But she was going to be a guardian angel… Like Credo would’ve been if Sanctus hadn’t taken him away in that demonic cult in Fortuna.

Before you could say anything else, though, you felt a shift in the air. Furrowing your brows, you immediately got up from your seat and put yourself in front of Kyrie: whatever it was, it would have to go through you first. She didn’t say a word, seeming to hide behind you and that horrid thing you were wearing – which didn’t really work, seeing how evident her own dress was.

With a few sparks, one of the demon lords spawned right in front of you: Erlach.

“Everything seems to be ready for the ceremony, then. Good.” His smile spread across his leathery skin as a row of a thousand sharp knives. Erlach carried horns and claws, eyes with desolation and the fiery pits of his home, and a set of large wings fit for an overgrown bat – but something about his features were astoundingly human. Demon lords could tower over humans, sometimes even taller than doors, and carry all the might and horror of Hell, but their kind were built in resemblance with their mortal peers – which wasn’t very common when it came to demons.

“When you force your guests to take part in it, things do get ready at your will, demon.” You had that typical coldness in your eyes – the type that would make the will of a lesser demon waiver. It wasn’t the case with Erlach, though: a spark seemed to have crossed his eyes, as he stared at you for a few seconds with interest.

“Apologize being so rude, but I do think you wouldn’t have come this far out of free will, human.” He spat back, allowing a smile to take over his features once more. It wasn’t the most inviting thing you had ever seen, you had to be honest.

“With this sort of attire, I certainly wouldn’t have.”

To your surprise, Erlach laughed in response. You quickly shared a glare with Kyrie, both of you uneasy with such… Tolerance from him.

“I might have to agree with you. Now, come. I wish to speak to you in private – we have enough to discuss.”

*

Before you could even respond, you blinked and suddenly, you were in an old study. Probably a part of the cathedral that only priests had access, with private rooms where they could make their own little libraries and studies – the desk had books and documents all over it, the fire was lit and a thousand candles burned in orange to give light to one of the deepest nights of the year.

You tried not to sigh: demonic teleportation was always a nuisance to you. Your human body still had to get used to that and you always got a little angry at Vergil when he void teleported you with Yamato: he was wise to always ask your permission first and, if it happened during an emergency and it was the only thing available for him to protect you, he knew he was in for some serious complaining from your part later.

Honestly, Vergil would rather have you safe, complaining at him and as mad as a human could be than have you harmed in a place he couldn’t protect you. He was actually getting well versed in dealing with your void teleportation complaints.

“Your kind isn’t very prone to conversations.” You had to point out, taking a deep breath. Your dizziness would be gone in a few seconds and you didn’t want Erlach to know how much it affected you. “Mindless dismemberments and self-boasting talk seem to be the preferred route for demons.”

“Lesser demons. Demon lords do have a different approach to things… And deals.” Erlach walked around his table, skimming over some documents before turning his fiery eyes to you and smiling once more. “The brainless dismembering style is still preferred by some, though. Like Orcus.”

“The second demon lord here tonight.” As you noted, Erlach seemed to have enjoyed your answer. It meant you were paying attention, not only trying to escape. “Demons are quite selfish as well, I wouldn’t expect to see your kind engaging in alliances. Or is that something peculiar to demon lords as well…?”

Yes, you were trying to provoke him – it was in your fighting style, in your blood. When fighting against demons, they all boasted how terrible they were, how they would smash you into a paste on the pavement and feast on your bones. You had to know how to answer at the same level or the fear would get to you. After all, you were fighting against supernatural things on a daily basis, obviously faster and stronger than you. If you didn’t taunt them to inspire a little bit of fear and belittle them before your humanity, you would cower in a corner and wait for certain death.

It was something Vergil admired on you, though. You had everything to fear those you fought against – and, sometimes, you knew you were overpowered by them. Even so, you wouldn’t allow that to show, you would masterfully control your emotions and only let out those you allowed your enemies to see. Vergil was quite proud of that.

“It’s peculiar to those of us who rather use our minds instead of our powers.” Erlach’s eyes lost all interest they had on the documents and were immediately glued to you and you only. Not once you shifted your gaze, and not once your body seemed to want to run away. You just stood there, immobile, gazing back at his fiery eyes with the same conviction as his – waiting the rest of his answer. “You see, I could break your bones with the flick of my wrist, but that wouldn’t be so fun, would it…?” Erlach approached with a slight smile on his lips, some fun playing in his words. His steps were slow and calculated, everything he could to inspire fear in your human heart. “There’s so much more in this world than bending it to your will by force.”

“It is a lot easier. Or so did Mundus think.” You crossed your arms and slightly raised your head, failing to notice how arrogant you looked… Just like Vergil used to be. Dante said one day both of you would get your ass kicked for looking cocky and, well, your day might have arrived. You wouldn’t let your pride slip out of you, tough, and something about Erlach’s demeanor made you think he wasn’t really annoyed by it. His feelings were… Something else.

“It didn’t take him too far, did it…?” Erlach raised one of his eyebrows, slowly approaching you once again. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on his pray, but instead of running, you maintained your posture. The one the Dark Slayer taught you. The one from knowing the power of being tied to the blood of Sparda. “Mundus was arrogant to think humans were only meat.”

“Apparently we are unwilling wedding participants too.” You scoffed, making Erlach laugh in response. You had to hide how his reaction took you by surprise: how much did you have to taunt him for that demon lord to finally lose his temper? “I don’t suppose you brought me here only to properly propose to me.”

“Differently from the Spardas, I do believe in taking some things by force.” Erlach’s voice had a delight laced in his words that made you… Slightly uncomfortable. “The ritual is taking place tonight, whether you and your friend agree to it or not. I just wanted to look into your eyes and see what the son of Sparda, the Dark Slayer who had been locked in Hell for decades, saw in you. A bond between a demon and any mortal creature isn’t one to be taken lightly.”

“Well, then you aren’t in luck. I am not married to Vergil, nor do I think he will ever want to be.” Your answer was certain and, to the demon’s surprise, carried no tinge of bitterness. You and Vergil had an agreement regarding your relationship: he would be with you for as long as you would have him, but he would never think of binding you to his fate like his father did to his mother. You had said countless times you didn’t mind and you weren’t afraid, but it wasn’t something Vergil was ready for. And you could respect that. “Our bond is not what you think it is.”

“Oh, it is exactly what I think it is.” Erlach’s words carried a truth you feared you weren’t able to see at the moment – as if he knew something you didn’t. You had to control your feelings not to furrow your brows and allow him to see your confusion, hiding it under your unbothered and strong demeanor – like whatever words he said could never affect you. “It isn’t a ceremonial bond, but one of souls. The heart does not lie, my exquisite guest, and the Spardas seem to be haunted by their father’s heartful curse.” His fingers grasped an old piece of paper in one of the desks by your side; Erlach’s indifferent eyes analyzed its contents while he spoke. “I will never understand why Sparda decided not to follow our rituals. He could’ve been great; Greater than Mundus himself. But he chose to diminish and turn himself as human as he could be… and look at what happened to him and his family. A shame, really.” He tossed aside the paper, and you could see an old picture of Sparda and Eva, falling apart from how old it was. Probably cut out from a book, looking like a painting; a portrait made long ago, before Dante and Vergil were even born. “Our marriage is called a binding ritual. It requires two souls to connect, and it makes one of them more powerful than one could ever dream of.”

“Hmmm. It requires one to diminish itself and be a powerless servant, then. I can see why Sparda discarded this option.” He would’ve never done such a thing to Eva, and that you had learned from all the stories Vergil told you from his parents. If you had only known the story from the books and popular tales, you would’ve asked yourself the same thing and have the same questions Erlach had – but you did have Sparda’s own son to tell the story. To paint you how his father was warm, stern, yes, but still kind, graceful and loving… To paint him as human. In all his adoration for Eva, he would never think of turning her into a powerless slave to his will. That was not what love was. “You still have much to learn.”

Erlach’s fiery eyes immediately met yours – but they didn’t carry the offense you thought they would. There was something else inside his demonic eyes. Was it… Excitement? Maybe…?

“Oh, little human, you have much to learn then to think some wouldn’t appreciate being slaves to their partner’s will. It is all a matter of pleasure.” His smile, though, immediately made you uncomfortable. If that subject had been mentioned by Vergil, you would definitely answer with a sassy smile and state that, in a matter of fact, you did know about that – and see where that conversation with your devilish partner would get you. But with Erlach…? It sounded more like a warning rather than anything else. Definitely a red flag waving in front of you. “The other soul does get something in return – some very important things in Hell: protection and status. Desecrating the partner of one of the most powerful demons to ever live could easily be a death sentence to whatever demon foolish enough to do so.”

“If that is the case, and I am bonded to Vergil, I wonder how foolish you have to be to willingly kidnap and forcefully wed the partner of the King of Hell.”

You wouldn’t admit it out loud. You wouldn’t even say it in front of Dante and Nero. Whenever the subject decided to appear, you just nodded, agreeing with the others that what Vergil did was horrifying and terribly wrong.

But you couldn’t deny the power trip on the rare occasions you decided to flex Vergil’s King of Hell title.

It had its perks.

“Only foolish if I don’t finish the ritual in time, my little human. I was also careful enough to find myself some leverage.” Erlach immediately waved at the door, referring to Kyrie. You didn’t want to sigh in acknowledgement, but that was enough to at least try to put some halt in Vergil’s murderous rampage. Or to make Nero hold his father on a leash if Vergil just decided to recklessly kill everything on sight. You had some serious concerns those demons heavily understated Vergil’s power. “I had no intentions to let Orcus partake in this ritual but I did need a brute to carry out most of the killing; it would be terribly boring.” With those words, Erlach approached enough to stop right in front of you. At any moment you flinched or decided to walk back, even if everything in your being wanted to put some very good distance between the both of you. Preferably a Vergil of distance. “Therefore, he can bind himself to the weakest of partners. The grandson of Sparda clearly isn’t as attuned to power as Sparda’s spawns.”

“Only a demon would think a human heart is weaker than a devil’s will.” You scoffed in response, raising your head once even higher – in part to be able to look at Erlach directly in his eyes. Vergil’s gaze could cut like the sharpest of ice, and you had seen those silvery eyes in their worst. Erlach’s gaze was nothing compared to the Dark Slayer. “Maybe that was the source of Sparda’s power, have you ever thought of that?”

You would never throw a demon lord like Erlach at Kyrie, but you were quite certain he wouldn’t appreciate the truth to your words and would never turn to the crew’s little angel as the most powerful of partners. Demons could be quite predictable in your book.

“Hmmm. Maybe humans measure their status through empathy, but in Hell…” Erlach’s eyes leveled with yours, his head bowing to be able to share his gaze with you – and, instead of fear, he found something else… Something closer to pride. You were the counterpart of the King of Hell after all, weren’t you? You would never bow your head and lose your crown, Erlach was beginning to understand that. And appreciate that. “We measure through power. And you carry quite the power within you, dearest human. Vergil, the Son of Sparda, wouldn’t accept any less with all the titles he carries. He is part demon, after all.”

That was some food for thought that had never crossed your mind before. Yes, Vergil was partly human, but without a doubt, it was Dante who got most of Eva’s heart. Vergil always took pride in his demonic heritage and power, and always found solace in that – he slowly came to terms with his own humanity and learned to appreciate the human heart, but the thirst for power ran deep in his demonic veins. He did see something in you more than your human empathy… Or else, his devil would never consider bowing to you.

“Hmmm. If all you search is power then, you can always betray Orcus and perform the ritual only for yourself.” You had a spark of sharp intelligence in your eyes, making Erlach widen his smile as the words poured from your lips. “Surely a creature like you wouldn’t mind some backstabbing and murder to keep all the power to yourself.”

“Oh, my sweet temptation, I have to say, I love the way you think…!” Now his voice had a trail of smoldering lust that not even you could deny it was there. Yes, you were trying to manipulate the demon into killing Orcus and leaving only one demon lord for you to deal with – which would make your life quite easy – and probably releasing Kyrie while at it. But you never expected your little game to backfire so gloriously: perhaps Vergil was right when he said you still had a thing or two to learn about his kind. “And I know what you are trying to do – very exciting. A battle of wits and manipulation with a devil, you are truly fearless.” You didn’t think Erlach couldn’t approach you even more, but there he was, towering over you in a way you could almost feel his hot breath on your face. Even if you wanted to void-teleport Vergil right between you at that very moment, you wouldn’t back down – it wasn’t in you. “When all this started, I thought only to bond with a powerful creature of human blood – now… You have proven to be spellbounding, sweet sweet creature. I see what Vergil saw in you: all the cleverness, might, strength, wits; all that fire.” With those words, Erlach offered you his hand, with those fiery eyes staring inside your soul. “I will take you as my partner, but you can do it willingly. I will give you protection and you will be royalty in Hellish realms. You will rule by my side: everything we want is ours for the taking, and anything you ask, I will give you. Kingdoms, realms, worlds. Every living creature that has ever taken a breath will bow to us – the world is mine and yours to rule… You just have to say yes.”

Erlach’s words took you by surprise – your head spun and you thought soon your feet wouldn’t know how to keep you stable on the floor. Your plans backfiring was a serious understatement. You never gave Erlach a reason to like you: on the contraire, you only gave him reasons to be extremely annoyed and suspicious of any and all of your actions. He had no hidden agendas in his words, as far as you could see, and it was extremely obvious what was going on.

You just didn’t expect that to happen, out of all the outcomes of that night.

“Why would I do that when I am already royalty?” Your answer, though, came back with the icy stare you learned from your beloved blue devil, crossing your arms once more and raising your head high just like he used to do. It wasn’t something you did consciously – with time, people develop some mannerisms of their loved ones, and you were no different.

You just got Vergil’s arrogance – and you were more than ready to pay for your tongue. That little game between you and Erlach had already gone too far: you had spotted a few things in the room you could use as a weapon and you were ready to go feral if he attacked you because of your insolence.

You were disarmed, though, when Erlach started laughing – a laugh of pure delight.

“I will have to steal, then. Just like Paris did to Helen of Troy.”

“But remember: an entire kingdom burned just so that King Menelaus could have Helen of Sparta back.”

“Indeed, Beautiful Helen. I shall keep that in mind.” With those words, Erlach’s rough hands took one of yours by force and placed a sharp kiss on your soft skin – that seemed to burn like a lingering fire even after you were teleported back to your improvised cell.

You had to sit down. You had to sit down. That night was already becoming quite the ride – and you thought your Halloween nights couldn’t be even wilder than the ones you had already had so far. But there you were, proven wrong, by a demon lord with a crazy ancient ritual that required a demonic marriage. You were flabbergasted, shocked, breathless… And a little scared.

Vergil had always warned you not to play with demons – especially with those who were witty enough to answer at your level. You always thought he warned you so you could dodge being fooled and trapped into a deal you never saw coming in the first place – he never told you one of those creatures could develop feelings towards you.

“Y/n? Are you ok?!” Kyrie rushed towards you, sitting by your side on that bench you were before, checking your temperature. You were still staring at some lost point on the ground, clearly questioning your life choices so far. “Y/n! Did he hurt you?! What happened?!”

“I think one of the most absurd things just happened in this lifetime…” You murmured, finally staring back at her with a concerned look – but somewhat empty eyes. Kyrie just had her eyebrows furrowed, because if something worried you then she should be even more worried. “I think a demon lord just fell in love with me.”

“Ooooh, no…” The dread in Kyrie’s voice could be understood by even the most clueless of creatures. She closed her eyes, already foreseeing chaos and destruction. “Vergil is going to go on a rampage.”

Yes. And, honestly, you weren’t looking forward to that.

*

“I know we are in a hurry…!” Lady was leaning out the open door of the Devil May Cry van while Nico drove furiously right behind Dante’s trail. Screaming at the red devil while on the road wasn’t an easy – nor safe – task, but honestly, Lady had done worse. “But what are you trying to do, cowboy?! Not miss the train?!”

Dante immediately slowed down slightly, just so he could be side by side with the devil hunter he knew since his teen years. Looking up at her, Dante didn’t even have to watch the road to keep on going without running over anything – his demonic insight would make up for that.

“Kinda, Lady.” His answer was a little snarky, even if he didn’t want to. “Hey, kid! How are your instincts with your girl?!”

“Not good, I’ll tell ya that.” Nero growled, almost unable to stand still by Nico’s side. The gunsmith had made a mental note not to bother him through that whole evening: Nero’s fangs were already showing, his eyes had a tinge of gold, and his trigger distortion was already appearing in his voice. If she actually took some time to look at him, she would be able to see claws instead of nails and his hair a little bit longer than usual – almost like they were back in Fortuna. Nico still wasn’t used to half-triggered Nero and she could bet it would take some time. “Kyrie’s heart, she’s anxious. Somethin’s unsettling her. And I don’t like it. At all.”

With those words, Nero finished doing whatever he was doing with Red Queen and his sword clicked back into place, revving up with the engines he had installed long ago.

“If the kid is like that, imagine Vergil.” Dante stated back to Lady and Trish, now leaning by the open door completely unbothered by the speed and the wind. “He’s an idiot, but still, man’s got enough power to level a whole city. He’s an asshat who can control his feelings, alright, but he’s got one hell of a trauma and a thing for protecting. His partner is gone. He’s on a bloodlust rampage, trust me. We gotta get to this place before Vergil, or all hell will break lose.”

“Vergil’s our train. Got it.” Lady immediately turned serious, remembering all the times she had ever seen Vergil fight – and all he could do.

“Nico! Hit the gas pedal! We aren’t gonna get there in time going at this speed.” Trish strutted over the driver’s seat – always keeping an eye on Nero. She knew how half-triggers could be disorienting and dangerous, and she could help in case anything went wrong – after all, she was a full devil and, wanting or not, she could take down Nero in a fight, to some extent, if she ever had to. At least long enough to give Dante time to fight his nephew in a fit of rage.

“Already goin’ as fast as I can, demon lady!” Nico had her cigarette between her teeth and her foot never leaving the gas pedal. Indeed, it was the fastest speed for the van.

“We just gotta give it a spark, then.” With those words, Trish rested one of her hands on the van’s panel, her eyes immediately sparkling with thunderous yellow. Her demonic sparks ran through her body, pooling over her heart and running down her arm, jolting to the van and enveloping it on her signature yellow lighting.

“WOOOOAH!” Nico had to hold her cigarette even tighter, both hands on the wheel as the van seemed to fly on the road. “Are you CRAZY, woman?!”

“Keep your eyes on the road, virtuosa.” And Trish’s own glowing yellow eyes never left the streets. “We’ll make it there on time.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Dante couldn’t help but laugh and use part of his own trigger to make Cavaliere go faster, now side by side with the van. “Keep it up, babe!”

They had to make it before Vergil. Dante knew in his heart he was the only one who could speak some logic back to his brother at a moment like that.

*

“Me and Vergil… We have a thing.”

You and Kyrie were being taken to the main event of the night: the ritual at the center of the derelict cathedral, under the light of the moon and the stars, witnessed by demons and the lost souls on the forgotten cemetery nearby. Barely any stained-glass mosaics were left – but those that were gave the cathedral an eerie tinge of color; like ghosts long gone in a place that was once holy. Your steps echoed on the stony ground, and you could hear the crackling of an enormous bonfire in the distance – as well as see the distorted, tall shadows of the demons taking both of you to your doom.

“I’m not saying it’s a good thing. I’m just saying it’s a thing.” You sighed, making her hazelnut eyes stare at you with interest as you walked proudly in front of her. The demons forced Kyrie to walk and kept shoving her until you made them only escort you to the ritual with just a stare of authority – she had to admit, you and Vergil were very much alike in some departments. “I can… Sense him sometimes. And he can sense me, whenever he wants to. It has to do with the arcane studies and the fact that we are partners.” You remained silent for a few seconds, closing your eyes for a while to take a deep breath before opening them again. “He can feel my distress. He knows when I’m worried, anxious, in danger.”

“Hmmm… Nero can do that too… I wonder if it’s a family thing.” Kyrie whispered back, not wanting the other demons to hear your conversation. You kept as close to her as possible, but still walking in front of her: if anything happened, it had better happen to you first.

“I wonder the same, too.” You answered with a breathy laugh, seeing the beauty of Vergil’s son being so alike him sometimes – and you wondered if Sparda had the same with Eva; with your heart already knowing the answer. “Sometimes, I feel Vergil’s rage too. His despair. His loneliness. His pain.” You went silent for a while, not really wanting to elaborate on that. It was the first time you were talking about that to someone on the crew – the first time you told Vergil, you had no idea what to do with those emotions and to say it was a roller coaster of a night to both of you, was an understatement. “What I feel is only a shadow of what he feels. And when he feels me, there is no force on Earth that will stop him. He will find me and, if need be, obliterate whatever is causing me trouble.”

“Oh.”

Kyrie finally understood why you said that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. When it came to her and Nero, their connection was deep and strong – and she had never seen anything like that before. But, the way you were speaking, it was different with you and Vergil… Maybe even stronger. And, when it came to Vergil, that could be for good or for bad.

You had to wonder how it was with Eva and Sparda. He was a demon, after all, and she was human. If Vergil was already that protective towards you, and that ruthless when it came to his enemies, you could see Sparda destroying entire countries for the woman he loved – being a harbinger of nothing but death, ruin and despair, only to have her feeling safe in his arms once again.

The fall of the city of Troy never made so much sense to you before that moment. Even if in the original story Helen’s heart was taken by Paris, still, Menelaus burned, killed, maimed and destroyed everything in his way just so she could be Helen of Sparta again… You could see Vergil and his father doing the same – but, in yours and Eva’s case, you would be longing to be back into their arms once more.

“Vergil is coming. And he is not in his best shape, emotionally speaking.” You whispered back to Kyrie so she could understand the extent of the situation you were in. “What I just felt, I could kill one of these demons with my bare hands. When Vergil’s here, he will do his best not to hurt you, but he is focused in one thing only so… Get out of his way. And I’m not trying to be rude…”

“I understand.” Kyrie whispered back, carefully noticing the demons eyeing each other. She knew you weren’t really giving her a warning, you were playing a little game: planting seeds of terror and discord so they would tear each other apart from the inside just from being afraid of Vergil. It was a clever move and Kyrie would’ve praised you if she had the chance. “I’ve already seen Nero almost go on a rampage. It really isn’t nice. I hope he doesn’t try to join his father, or there will not be a single rock left standing in this cathedral soon enough.”

She decided to play your game, noticing a slight smile of approval on the corner of your lips. All of you hunters always had smart strategies to deal with the demons you did on a daily basis, but, when you were completely stripped of your weapons just like on that moment, you had to resort to other ways of fighting.

Your scheming had to be put to a halt for a while when you approached the decaying wooden doors that opened your path down the church’s aisle – a moth eaten dark red carpet, now almost black from dirt and time, painting the path you should follow; until you would stand side by side with the devil who kidnapped you, now waiting for your presence by a tall bonfire at the center of the cathedral, illuminating an altar right behind Erlach.

Things suddenly seemed even more serious now and your heart sunk in your chest. As you started to walk down the aisle, the demons watching that hellish ceremony chanted and hit their weapons or claws rhythmically on the stony floor. Kyrie was held by one of the demons who guided you towards the aisle, outside of that madness, but soon to go in after your ritual came to an end – after you got married.

A few seconds after your heart seemed to have sunken on the floor, you felt a rage bubbling inside your chest, threatening to come out of your mouth with an earth shattering scream; running through your body like a violent bolt of lightning, resting on your hands that immediately closed to fists as you raised your head high: for a split second, if you saw anything that could be used as a weapon to cut Erlach’s head off its neck, you would’ve taken it and plunged in like a furious beast.

That lightning, though, dissipated as fast as it ran through your body. You didn’t lose your posture and kept walking with certain, hard steps towards your fate – but that blind bloody rage was gone.

It was Vergil.

You knew it was him. It was right after you had that desperate, desolating feeling of not knowing what to do, of watching that harrowing scene right in front of you and not knowing how to get out… Of feeling trapped like a little mouse on a cage. You felt some of Vergil’s emotions in a very fleeting manner – in a bolt of lightning – but he could feel yours more certainly and longingly. That bloodthirst that ran through your body… It was just a fleeting taste of Vergil’s emotional response to knowing how unsafe you felt.

After all he had been through, protection was a big thing for your blue devil. He silently promised nothing would ever happen to his newfound family now that he was strong enough to protect not only himself, but everyone around him. Knowing you were vulnerable, completely exposed, feeling like prey and he wasn’t around to keep you safe… To say Vergil’s demonic blood was boiling was a great understatement.

“Come, brilliant creature among humans. Midnight is close, and the ritual must be completed.” Erlach offered you his rough, devilish hand so you could take and approach the altar with him – a stone containing a couple of candles and an old golden bow, marked by ancient, dry blood.

You stopped right where you were, not taking his hand, but still staring into his eyes. You were thinking of words of defiance, of improvised weapons, of anything you could do to get you and Kyrie out of there. If you had to fight that demon with hands and teeth, so be it, but you wouldn’t back down – and if it was for you to die, you would die fighting.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a roaring thunder rumbling through the pitch-black skies right above your heads. You couldn’t see any clouds and it didn’t seem like it was going to rain earlier that day, but that ominous thunder roared once more – with a flash of a lightning in the distance cracking down from the sky suddenly illuminating your face as you opened a broad smile. Erlach only eyed you with confusion, taken aback by the sudden prelude of rain.

“A storm is approaching.” Your somber voice did not match the smile across your lips and Erlach’s eyes filled with understanding – even if he himself didn’t think that was possible for only a half-demon like the Dark Slayer. “You have yet time to give up this foolishness before he arrives.”

“I am not scared by a little thunder, human. You shall learn that in time.” The demon decided to ignore the warning on your voice, taking your hand with a little too much strength, already guiding you to the altar.

But you heard whispers – among the other demons, yours and Kyrie's words were being replicated, some of them resting silent while others laughed. With your ominous warning over a simple storm, though, they started to wander… To fear. Was that something done by your lover? Was that the extent of Sparda’s power? The Dark Slayer, the one who escaped from Hell and from his imprisonment by none other than Mundus, was that powerful…? They didn’t know. And some of them, didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, you will learn to be scared.” You whispered, back, slowly going up the few steps that kept you and Erlach far from each other. He conducted you with an iron grip, while the only thing you had in mind was to buy Vergil more time to get to you. “As all of you do.”

“Not if I get the ritual done first.” With those harsh words, Erlach gripped your arm in a way you couldn’t escape, even if his gestures were a lot more flourished than brute. You saw a ritualistic dagger in his other hand and you knew what the next step would be. “Then he shall learn a thing or two about fear.”

His hands moved so fast you didn’t have time to quip back – even if you wanted to answer that, after all Vergil had been through, making him feel fear was quite the achievement. Very few things could frighten his heart and soul… And you were oblivious enough to point out that, Vergil’s protective and enraged response that day was not only out of love, but out of fear of losing you.

Before Erlach could resume cutting your hand to harvest your blood for the bonding ritual, you managed to pierce his arm with a white summoned sword. With that surprise, Erlach dropped the weapon and you took it in your hand – twisting it and approaching him enough to press it against his neck, already making him bleed. You just didn’t manage to kill him because his survival reflexes made him snap our of his surprise and hold your hand against his neck, struggling with you in order to see who would win: you, by taking his life, or him, by taking you as his.

“My King of Hell isn’t the only one who should be feared, demon. You will learn that with time.” Your voice was low and filled with pride, hearing as the other demons immediately started whispering to each other: Orcus and Erlach probably didn’t tell them all the titles your lover carried.

As if to support you, another thunder roared in the skies and a lightning cracked near the desecrated cathedral. Some demons seemed to gasp and become startled, expecting Vergil to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

A few drops of water started to fall on your hair, your face, and run down your hands… And between your lips as you smiled.

“You are indeed a rare one.” But, to your surprise, Erlach smiled back. His sharp nails buried in the skin of your arm holding the knife, making you relax your grip ever so slightly as blood started to run from the wounds he inflicted. “Blood is blood. No matter how I attain it. Alas, I wanted our bonding to be beautiful, but this will do.”

With your blood running down his claws, Erlach grasped the blade on his neck, cutting his own hand even if you didn’t let the dagger go. Reaching out for the golden bowl, you once again tried to stab his neck, but the demon finally let go of your other arm only to hold your hand back. As you both struggled, you did your best to keep his hand away from the bowl, with Erlach already muttering some words in a language long lost to your human ears.

It was your blood already mixed with his. Whatever you did, he couldn’t reach that bowl for anything in this world.

You didn’t notice when the rain became stronger. You didn’t notice when Orcus moved Kyrie away from the door. You didn’t notice when the thunders seemed to roar inside the earth beneath your feet. All your strength was concentrated in keeping Erlach away from the altar, and all his strength was focused on completing the ritual on time.

“Before me all things create were none, save things Eternal, and Eternal I shall endure.*” Oh, you would recognize that voice even if you were dead. The words creeped through the stone walls of the cathedral, accompanied by calm, calculated steps approaching with resolve. The demons’ attentions turned to the rotten door, as well as yours and Erlach’s eyes, finally stopping to struggle. Vergil’s silhouette finally made itself visible, as if he was taken by a cold blue aura in the darkness – his silvery eyes set on you and your foe, one of his hands grasping the hilt of the Yamato as the other kept the sword safe at his side. “Per aspera, ad Inferi.”

There was a change in the air. Your very breath seemed to warp around you as time became slurred and thick. For a few moments it was difficult to breathe, as the storm outside that desecrated place looked like it would start bleeding inside the cathedral. You stumbled back, closer to the altar, dragging Erlach with you – you knew what was coming. Some demons tried to run, others froze in place, while some got ready to fight.

You could see how that cold, fiery blue started to cut the air – a split second before Vergil disappeared and all you could hear was the sound of the Yamato slicing everything in sight. Time stopped for a while, your breath disappeared from your lungs, your heart didn’t beat. You held yourself together as strongly as you could, while Erlach stared at that view with a pair of impressed – or maybe even fearful – eyes.

Vergil appeared once more, now standing a few meters away from you – all he had to do was climb the steps to finally reach you. Placing Yamato in its sheath, Vergil took a few long seconds to get the shiny blade to slide down and, with a click, make most of the demons – and whatever decoration that was left standing – fall apart in piles of flesh and blood.

You didn’t want to say you had warned them, but well… You had warned them.

“You’re too late, Dark Slayer.” With those words, Erlach reached the bowl – now even closer than before, since you dragged him back not to be so close to a judgement cut of that magnitude. His words were like a bell, waking you up to the reality that a single drip of your mixed blood in the gold, and it would all be over.

But Vergil unsheathed Yamato once again, as fast as he moved down the aisle to reach you, and the golden bowl was cut in half – cracking in some places, gold dust spilling at your feet.

“You should learn, demon, some things can never be taken by force.” Vergil’s voice was like a velvety murmur in the dark – and you knew, the quieter he grew, the more time he had to marinate his anger. “Love, is one of them. Respect, is another.”

Those silvery eyes finally landed on yours, as a faint smile spread across your lips. Love would be nothing without respect, and Vergil argued that earning your respect was one of the most honorable things you could have graced him with – not that the love was not of importance, but if you had never come to respect him, the love you shared would have never flourished… And the reciprocate was true.

“Well, well, looks like we’ve arrived in time.” You heard Dante sighing by the door, guns already on his hands. “Big bad demon is all yours, Verge. We’ll handle things back here.”

“Kyrie!” And you barely saw Nero as he ran towards Orcus with all the rage of the world in his eyes, slicing demons in the way with a revved up Red Queen and leaving a trail of fire behind him. Sometimes he was a lot like his own father, but other times, his uncle's heritage shined through.

Vergil didn’t even look back at the crew already killing the demons who fought and who tried to run away – he only had eyes for you and the filthy creature holding you in its arms.

“Last time I saw you, my whips cracked on that soft skin of yours, spawn of Sparda.” And for the first time that night, you heard some more emotion on Erlach’s voice – something close to hate. Maybe he wasn’t as controlled as he said he was… Maybe he was prone to violence after all. “You tried your best to hold back your tears as your filthy blood tainted the floors of Hell. But everything cracks, eventually.”

A jolt of pain burned across your skin on your back as if you were naked, as fast as a bolt of lightning. You couldn’t help but to wince at the feeling, even if Vergil and Erlach remained immobile. In a fraction of a second, you understood a little of that pain, of a memory in the back of Vergil’s head that came back like a kick in the stomach, and it seemed not to affect him at all – but you knew, you could feel what he didn’t show.

The pain was fleeting, but the anger wasn’t – that was yours and yours only. As you suddenly flinched, you took advantage of that moment of surprise to move your arms once again and the strength of your boiling anger to slash Erlach as you could, eager to take a piece of him… Eager to kill him after the suffering he put your lover through.

“Everything cracks indeed.” You murmured as he took one of his hands to his face, noticing the considerable gash you opened on his cracked skin – now pouring blood profusely. “Next, I will cut your tongue.”

You heard a quick chuckle from Vergil, silvery eyes observing you with so much pride – and a little of something else. Pride was always easy to see in him: the way he carried himself, the way he posed with his head high, the way his eyes admired that which he respected and loved… But care was a different thing. If you were looking at your lover, it would take you some time to notice, but his admiration for you was never ending behind his pride to be able to call you his.

“I do understand how you came to love this human, that I will admit.” Erlach hissed back at Vergil, licking his own blood from his fingers. Risking a glance at the cathedral, the demon assessed the situation: the bowl was broken, the demons were all but destroyed, fleeing from the weapons of Dante, Lady and Trish, Nero had Kyrie back in his arms and Orcus was nowhere to be seen. “I truly underestimated the depth of your feelings for such a fragile creature.”

“Eloquent words, but no wisdom behind them.” Vergil’s response was prideful as always, as he walked the small set of steps to reach you – and probably slice Erlach apart. “Fragile is far from what I would use to describe y/n. I will burn bridges, destroy cities, crush entire empires to protect those whom I love and respect. There is nothing of fragile in that.” Pointing Yamato at Erlach, the blade almost touched the wound you inflicted in the demon’s neck. “You should remember that as I kill you for this insolence, pitiful scum.”

His stern eyes glinted with a tint of blue, as Vergil’s teeth were already sharp in fangs. His hands around the Yamato already started to resemble claws and his voice, even if you would love it in all of its iterations, had that distinct demonic distortion. His blue fire engulfed him like a faint shadow, but it did make your lover look even taller than he already was. On the brink of his humanity, it would take only a spark to make him burst into his demonic form.

“King of Hell.” You mouthed at Erlach while pointing at Vergil right in front of you, as if to prove a point – the point you wanted to prove from the beginning: no matter what those demons did, Vergil was stronger and more powerful than all of them together.

And, of course, you could use another rush of power whenever you flexed that title. You just hoped no one else in the crew would see it: you’d be in for some harsh judgement if they did.

“I shall remember for the next time we meet, son of Sparda.” Erlach turned his fiery eyes to you. “And I shall see you again, brilliant Helen.”

With those words, the demon used its own blood for an incantation to flee a battle he would definitely lose – a smart move, even if you didn’t know where he went… And if that ominous warning was not something you would have wanted to hear. You would prefer to see him dead.

“Hmmm… Bold of this creature to assume it could steal your love like foolish Paris.” Vergil had to murmur under his breath, immediately turning around to face you, Yamato quickly back on its sheath. Before you could say anything, Vergil took your hand in his with a surprising gentle touch, only so he could analyze the bloody scratches on your arm – as well as allow his silver eyes to burn with wrath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No, that’s the only wound. You don’t need to worry, Vergil.” Your answer, though, made his eyes fly to look into yours as if you had said one of the most jarring things he had ever heard.

“I will always worry about you. You know that.”

He didn’t have to say, you could feel it. You had felt his worrying ever since he had learned it was Erlach who kidnapped you and wanted to complete that mad bonding ritual. Vergil’s worry was in his fear of losing whatever love he managed to have in that godforsaken life of his, and that usually manifested in an unparalleled anger in him. All that wrath… It was one of the highest praises you could ever get from your lover.

Placing both of your hands to cradle his face, you didn’t allow Vergil to keep on speaking as you pressed your lips against his. It was one of the most effective ways you could rest that flame inside his heart and bring him some peace – the same way the droplets of rain seemed to want to wash away all the blood and fury of that night. It took him a couple of seconds to start melting under your touch, arms wrapping around your waist and bringing you closer to his body, as your kiss quieted the fear that burned inside his heart.

You parted from his lips, even if Vergil himself didn’t seem to want to do so. His breathing, though, was already going back to a normal pace and you couldn’t feel his fangs under your lips anymore. As those silvery eyes stared back at you, the blue tinges were gradually gone. You took your hands to his hair, taking the rebellious strands that were already falling on his vision and brushing them back into his usual hairstyle – and Vergil even allowed himself to thank you with a soft smile.

“I cannot help but wonder, though…” He finally murmured, voice back to his dark tone with no traces of his demonic side showing up. “What, in the name of the gods, you are wearing.”

“Apparently, this hideous thing is what demons consider a wedding attire.” You sighed back, still in his embrace. You refused to look down and see yourself in that ridiculous thing again. “I wanted to get rid of it, but alas, the other option was to be completely naked.”

“Hmmm…” You didn’t know if Vergil hummed or growled, but you did know he was quite unpleased by that sight – almost as much as you. Taking your hand, Vergil guided you around the enormous bonfire behind the altar, in a place the crew couldn’t see you. “Don’t move.”

Before you could even ask what he had in mind, the air around you warped and your clothes fell on the ground after a quick and clean judgment cut.

That was a way to solve things, but…

“My clothes…”

Vergil immediately took off his coat, wrapping it around you and keeping you close, helping you dress it and hold it closed in front of you. It was a lot bigger than your form, and definitely a heavy piece of clothing, but it smelled like him – and that was one of the things that could always calm the distress in your heart.

“We will find your clothes. But you cannot walk around dressed like a clown.” With you still in his arms, Vergil placed a rather long kiss on your forehead, catching you by surprise.

A nice surprise that made you smile.

“On that, I agree with you. If we were ever to get married, I would have never worn such a thing.” You whispered back, making him chuckle while staring into your eyes again. Sometimes, the ice in his silver stare seemed to melt for a while, just like at that moment.

“You would be a beautiful sight to see.” His answer was also a whisper, and a rather unexpected one: that was something you never expected Vergil to say. He often mentioned how Sparda marrying Eva was a blessing to him and a curse to her, even if you insisted on arguing that probably wasn’t true; but you would never expect Vergil, of all people, would have imagined you on a wedding day… With him.

“Hey! Are you both makin’ out behind that bonfire? C’mon, it’s not time for that, Verge! Did mom never teach you to have manners?”

Dante’s voice interrupted whatever you could say in response, as Vergil already started to growl in annoyance at what his twin brother was implying. You headed back to the crew, twins ready to start bickering once again, as always. You saw Kyrie wearing Nero’s coat and couldn’t help but giggle – like father like son.

You sighed, finding Vergil’s fingers and entangling his between yours – his touch reciprocating immediately. It was time to go home.

*

“Your fingers are cold.”

Vergil held your hands close to him as you waited for the crew to drive back to the shop. Nico was smoking behind the wheel and you took some time to rest as everyone tried to find what the demons stole from you and Kyrie as well as where they found out about that binding ritual – or demonic marriage, as you began to enjoy calling it.

Your lover couldn’t stay away from you for too long, though. He came back after a little while, not wanting to admit he was too worried to leave you alone for more then a couple of minutes – even if you were with Nico.

He would argue if something bad happened, you would be the one doing the saving while Nico would be screaming around and trying to run demons over… And you couldn’t really disagree with him on that.

“Well, it’s part of my human condition.” You smiled back as Vergil had his mouth close to your hands, trying to warm them up with his breath. On the other hand, there was your blue devil, arms completely naked under his leather vest, oblivious to the weather. “I can’t keep myself warm while naked under a snowstorm like some.”

“Well, I cannot either.” Even if his eyes were a little harsh upon looking at you, there was also some amusement hidden underneath the ice. “Although I would survive enough to get you to safety.”

Vergil’s eyes went back to your hands while you kept on observing how he occupied himself with the task of warming you. His lips were close enough so you could feel them ghosting over your fingers, but never touching your skin. His rough hands cradled yours with a touch so gentle one would never expect from the likes of him. Everything about Vergil screamed danger, but when it came to you, it was completely opposite.

“I wished so bad you would find me.” You finally whispered, keeping your eyes close. Feelings weren’t easy for the both of you; somehow, you found that closing your eyes while being around only him was easier to allow your heart to open – and there were times Vergil did the very same thing when talking to you. “I… I did my best not to seem frightened. Kyrie needed me to stay strong, the demons couldn’t know and have the upper hand. But I was scared. I was lost. And I wished, deep inside my heart, you’d somehow find me in the darkness.”

“I know.” His answer was quiet, hands still wrapped around yours. You could feel Vergil’s breath as he spoke, slowly opening your eyes to find his looking back at your once again. “I know. No matter where you are, I will always find you.”

For a few seconds, the air lacked in your lungs and the words in your mouth. If you weren’t alone, you would’ve fought the tears that marinated your eyes, even if you didn’t want them to fall – they would rest there, making it seem like you were observing Vergil with a whole universe in yourself, just for him. And he would always appreciate that.

“As soon as I felt your rage, I knew you were coming.” You confided back, making him furrow his brows for a while. “I happen to be pretty good at energy work, Vergil. Remember sometimes I get to feel you back? I did today. And that’s when I knew I was safe.”

The last pieces of the puzzle arranged themselves in Vergil’s head: of course, when he got the strongest emotions from you, it was easier for you to get his. But when his emotions were too strong, that connection could work as well, for better or for worse – and he remembered how you flinched in the cathedral when Erlach mentioned how he tortured Vergil… When he was taken aback for a few moments suddenly feeling that pain he tried so hard to forget.

It was a shame you had to feel that too – his eyes went down to your hands while his eyebrows furrowed now from annoyance rather than confusion.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered back, placing your fingers under his chin and making Vergil look back into your eyes. “I’m here for the good, the bad and the ugly – no matter how harrowing it gets. You can always rely on me, as I know I can always rely on you.”

“As long as time will have us be together.”

Vergil’s murmured response was crowned with a gentle kiss on your hands, making you smile softly in return. You knew he was still annoyed with the fact you felt the worst of his emotions, but at least you were safe – and, for now, he would have to settle for that. You just hoped one day Vergil understood you didn’t see those terrible things that happened to him as a flaw, but as something he didn’t have to carry quietly on his own.

It just made you respect him even more than you already did.

“You don’t realize what you are, do you…?” Your question was a little absent as you kept on observing his stern face, with those silvery eyes now staring at you in confusion and distress: his heart beating a little faster, concluding you finally came to your senses that you had decided to give your love to a devil. “You deem yourself as one of the cruelest and worst creatures to ever walk the earth, but you don’t realize… Demons don’t protect their loved ones like you did today.”

To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making Vergil instinctively hold your waist so you wouldn’t lose your balance. All the while, you never allowed those vulnerable silver eyes to leave yours.

“Angels do.”

As you placed your lips on his, Vergil’s embrace held you tightly against him – and even after you parted, he remained holding you, his head hidden in your shoulders and your hair. Vergil was silent and didn’t make a single noise, but you could feel the tears leaking into your mouth during the kiss and later dropping on your neck.

His heart could take a lot of harshness and cruelty, pain and torture, without even flinching. But this time… It was the first time in his life that Vergil was seen as good.

And his heart wasn’t used to that.

----

*Inferno, by Dante Allighieri

[wolves-and-stars]

FAMOUS WOLFSTAR AU FIC RECS

(A list of the the best famous AU fics, including youtube, musician/band, and acting)

1. Sex Pistols by ArtificialAorta (ffnet) 86k

MUSICIAN/BAND AU!

I love this fic, it was on my last list too, remus is the lead singer and gutarist for the punk rock band belladonna, and he meets the lead singer of the pop band maraders, sirius black, at a press tour.

The music the author mentions in the fic is so good, it really helps you get immeresed in the scene they mention the song for.

2. Stalking Sirius by remuslives23 (ao3) 36k

MUSICIAN SIRIUS BLACK

Journalist remus lupin finds out a secret about sirius black, the lead singer of the band marauders, and uses it as leverage to gain an interview with the ever mysterious and elusive singer.

3. Whatever Words I Say by orphan_account (ao3) 23k

MUSICIAN SIRIUS BLACK

Remus Lupin is hired by lily evans and her PR company to babysit sirius black, the lead singer of her husband's band, the marauders, after the latest media frenzy cause by Sirius' cavalier attitude. Remus realises maybe sirius doesn't act out because of any of the expected reasons.

4. Never Above You, Never Below by orphan_account (ao3) 5k

ACTOR SIRIUS BLACK

Sirius just wants to shop at tesco in peace when a young boy recongnises him and drags out his father, remus lupin. It would annoy sirius, except the guy is kind of cute. (Actor! Sirius, Single dad! Remus) starring baby teddy.

5. Addicted To The Magic by orphan_account (ao3) 14k

ACTOR SIRIUS BLACK

Remus runs into a stranger on the tube and gets swept up in a whirlwind romance, except he doesnt know what the starnger does or really anything about him. Maybe he'll find out at the party sirius' invites him to?

Side pairing of james and lily, but isn't boring like all the other ones, they actually have personalities other than being the boring hetero couple.

6. Forever Is a State of Mind by orphan_account (ao3) 25k

YOUTUBER AU!

Remus lupin is runs a dance youtube channel, where he posts choreographies with his son teddy. He's also deaf and people find it hard to understand how someone who can't hear music could love to dance so much, people like rita skeeter who hires snape as a terp for a new paper article she wants to write about him. Except sanpe is the kind of terp that only signs SLS, remus runs into james, CODA, who helps him out. He also happens to introduce him to sirius black his best mate who is a MUA youtuber, with a decent amount of followers.

With a side pairing of polyamorous james/lily/regulus raising harry together. (Y'all dont understand this fic made me jump in the jegulus train way back in 2016, and ive been patiently waiting for all of you to catch up)

7. real life has no appeal by orphan_account (ao3) 7k

YOUTUBER AU!

Sirius, james and peter have a channel where they break into places overnight, trying to escape getting caught. James starts dating lily, who happens to be remus' roomate. Remus has his own channel, less break-in, more artsy. Sirius happens to text remus. They happen to fall for each other.

8. Wizard beat by eprime

MUSICIAN REMUS LUPIN

Sirius black is remus lupins biggest fan, their new roomate john finds his passion for the singer very annoying. Sirius finds his new roomate annoying, or does he?

9. The Prom Date by xivz (ao3) 48k

MUSICIAN SIRIUS BLACK

Remus Lupin does something very out of character, he sends a promposal video to Sirius Black, the very famous singer/actor/model who hes had a crush on for wuite some time.

Siruius Black happes to accept his request. And is determined to break the rules of their contract by relentlessly pursuing him.

10. The tell-all end-all with Sirius Black by wolvesandstars 1.5k

MUSICIAN SIRIUS BLACK

This one is by me, sorry about the shameless plus, i really wanted the list to have 10 in them.

Give it a try, its about how the paps speculate about sirius blacks mystery boyfriend and all the conspiracies surrounding him and his ex-best friend and ex-roomate remus lupin.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Summary: After the incident things were looking pretty bleak, but the one thing you thought would make everything worse ended up saving you.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of guns and gun violence

Author’s Note: So I wrote a one shot because I cannot, for the life of me, stick to a consistent writing schedule. Enjoy!

---

You never expected anyone to feel sorry for you. That had been a pretty consistent theme throughout your life, why would anyone feel sorry for the kid who got everything they asked for? Granted, the only things in your past that might have sparked an ounce of pity were trivial, like a broken ankle or a bad break up, but even after this mess you never expected much. 

It'd been a few months now since it happened, either two or three, you weren't sure exactly- enough time for seemingly everyone you'd ever met to show up and implore you to tell the story over and over again. One or two of them did appear genuinely concerned but you couldn't shake the feeling that most of them just wanted the gossip, desperate for anything to make them the most interesting person in the room at their next garden party or champagne brunch or ambassador's reception. Every single painful, repetitive, disingenuous conversation you had to sit through served as a further reminder of why you’d left this life behind as soon as you had the chance. Now you were stuck back here for god knows how much longer, and everything just felt bleak.

A soft knock rapped against your bedroom door. You didn't bother answering, they'd just let themselves in, they always did. The knob turned and the door creaked open, your father's timid face peering in.

“Are you busy?” It was nice of him to ask, but it was also unnecessary, because you hadn’t left your couch to do anything other than pee in weeks. “Your aunt Carol is here. She brought you some gifts, I thought it might make you feel better.”

Both of you knew very well that it would have the opposite effect, the only thing you'd ever resented your mother for was bringing that vapid bitch into your life. Well, that and accidentally letting slip that the tooth fairy wasn’t real on your third birthday. 

Carol careered round the door and past your father in her typical pantomime dame dress and makeup. You smirked, thinking to yourself that, in dimmer light and with some sinister music, it would've made an excellent scene for a horror film. Ever since your mother passed she’d been sniffing around the house more and more, you were convinced she was trying to seduce your dad to get his money but you couldn't prove it. Thankfully, he had enough sense to stay the hell away from her.  

“Oh, look at you, you poor thing. You look awful.” She clunked the wrapped box and card she was holding down on the table and joined you on the couch, her offensive perfume making your nose begin to itch. “Come on, auntie Carol is here for you now, tell me everything darling.”

You gave your father, who was standing by the door looking very apologetic, a harsh glare. 

“There's not much to tell. Dad was mid-speech when some guy in the audience stood up, next thing I knew he was getting tackled and there was a loud bang. I look down and I'm bleeding.”

“Oh my, who was he?”

“Just some crazy, nationalist, militia guy targeting politicians, apparently. They have no idea if he was alone or with a group so it’s safer for me to stay here for now. My apartment is too much of a risk.”

“Bless you. It's so difficult being in the public eye, but you are so brave.” She pointed down to your stomach, “and don't worry, I've got some magic serum that'll clear up any unsightly scars ready for bikini season. I'll send you my diet plan, too.”

You turned the dial up on the daggers you were shooting your father every time she looked away, and he finally took the hint. 

“Okay, Carol. We should let her rest now.”

“Alright, love you so much baby. Look after yourself, okay? Maybe run a comb through your hair or something. Very frizzy.”

You rolled your eyes at her back as she left and reached over to grab the card. There was a sad puppy on the front, sitting beneath the words sorry you’re having a hard time. You figured that Hallmark probably didn't stock a sorry you got shot by a psychopath card.

Your father was lingering. He never lingered. 

“Everything okay, dad?”

“Yes. Although, there is something I need to tell you.”

“Go on.”

“I've hired someone.”

“Right.”

“For you,” he noted your confusion, “to protect you.”

“A bodyguard?”

“No, he's not a bodyguard.” You raised an eyebrow. “He's not just a bodyguard.”

“The hell does that mean?”

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Wiping the sweat from his palms onto his trousers, he strode over and took a seat beside you, preparing himself with a deep breath. This was serious. 

“The last time you saw Dr Burke she recommended that we… don't leave you on your own too much. So, he's going to be looking out for your welfare, going to be spending time with you.”

“Ah, I see. Suicide watch. Great.”

“I’m worried about you. You barely eat, you don't move from that spot, you haven’t showered for weeks. I know you miss being in your own place but,” he put his hand on top of yours, “I’ve already lost your mother, I can’t lose you too.”

Well, that hit you like a punch in the gut.

“Okay, dad. If you think it’ll help.”

“I do.” He stood up, giving you a light kiss on the top of your head before turning to leave. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”

---

You were woken from a light sleep by another knock on the door. The only thing you hadn’t been struggling with recently was sleep, it was the only way you could make your days pass quicker.

Again, the door creaked open before you answered. Your dad stepped in followed by a man you assumed to be your new long-term babysitter. You’d expected someone more stern looking, someone dressed like an extra from Men in Black, but he just looked like a normal guy. He had a strong face, broad shoulders and deep brown hair. If you’d been in a different state of mind you might even have considered him attractive, but you were far too tired for anything like that.

“Sweetheart, this is-” Your father looked blankly over to his companion, obviously already having forgotten his name.

“James. Nice to meet you.”

You mustered a faint smile. There was a brief, awkward silence as your father’s eyes flicked from you back to the composed looking guest, whose huge arms were folded over his chest. 

“Well, uh- I have a call in a few minutes. I suppose I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” he clapped a hand on James’ back, “just let me know if you need anything.”

Then, just like that, you were alone with a complete stranger. Your eyes stayed firmly fixed to the movie you’d slept through half of but were suddenly incredibly interested in. You heard James shuffle forwards, his broad frame eventually scooching into the edge of your vision.

“Look, I get it. You’re a grown-ass adult, I wouldn’t like having some stranger keeping an eye on me all the time either. If you want, I can just stick to the corner, stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here.”

That actually sounded like a pretty sweet deal, but you’d feel incredibly guilty having him perched on the other side of the room like a piece of furniture. The least you could do was be a little friendly.

“That’s alright, you can have the comfy seat,” you faintly motioned your head towards the nearby armchair, “but I’ll be shitty company.”

He happily settled himself in. “Makes no odds to me, I’m getting paid to be here.”

A short breathy chuckle escaped your lips, taking you by surprise. It’d been a long while since someone had made you laugh, all the conversations you’d had in the past few weeks had been unbelievably morbid and condescending, most of them with people you had no interest in talking to in the first place.

A couple of silent hours passed. You‘d gotten so used to being alone that you kept forgetting he was there, the odd cough or movement making you jump out of your skin. Eventually, Elaine pounded on the door and announced that she’d brought dinner up for both of you, so James jumped up and helped her with the cart.

Elaine was your father’s housekeeper and the only thing that had prevented him dying of starvation or exposure since your mom died. She was kind and patient, you liked her alot. Her food was always incredible, you felt awful for barely eating it over the last few weeks but the pain from your stomach wound combined with zero expenditure of energy had just killed your appetite.

James looked from his plate over to yours, his knife and fork poised. “You not eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“When’s the last time you ate anything?”

Someone had been talking to dad. 

You shrugged. “This morning, I think.”

“Bullshit.” Your eyes snapped in his direction. “You know you’re not gonna get any better if you don’t eat, right? You’ll just have to put up with me bugging you for even longer.”

“Thought you were gonna stay out my way?”

“Mostly.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. “How about this, you eat a couple bites, I’ll eat the rest and we’ll tell your dad you ate the whole thing.”

You considered for a second. Not a bad offer, getting your dad off your back for a while would be pretty great. You knew what game he was playing but you were more than willing to play too just as long as the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.

“Deal.”

You expended a tremendous amount of effort leaning yourself forward and grabbing the plate, feeling James’ gaze tunnelling into the side of your face as the two of you began to eat. You had to admit, you enjoyed the food much more than you’d expected, half the plate had gone before you felt full. James looked pretty smug while finishing off the rest of it.

The sky outside slowly turned dark and you could feel yourself getting sleepy, so you settled deeper into the couch for your third sleep of the day.

“Hey,” James leant forward in his seat, “you need help getting to your bed or anything?”

“Oh, no, I’m good. I usually just sleep here.”

He gave you a puzzled look. “There? Is that comfortable? Can’t be good for your back.”

“Probably isn’t, but I don’t have the energy to move.”

“You don’t need the energy,” he sprung up from his seat, “you’ve got me.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, James had an arm anchored around your upper back and was inching you upwards, away from the safety of your sad-zone and onto your feet. A few mild pangs of pain shot through your stomach but it wasn’t enough to make you fight back, so you just gave in, relaxed into his grip and let him walk you across the room.

Your mattress was unbelievably comfortable and you felt knot after knot untying in your back as you stretched out flat, but you didn’t need to tell him that. Who was this magical asshole, anyway, showing up and suddenly knowing what would help you better than you did?

“I’m just gonna crash on that armchair, if that’s all good with you.”

“There?” You carefully rolled onto your side so you were facing away from him. “Can’t be good for your back.”

A deep chuckle came from behind you. “Smartass. Shout me if you need to go to the bathroom or anything.”

You just grunted, already half asleep. It was only another minute or so before you drifted off peacefully and got the best night of rest you’d had in weeks.

Maybe this babysitting thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

You woke to the sound of soft snoring on the other side of the room. Light was bleeding in around the curtains and you could hear footsteps in the corridor, probably your father heading downstairs for his coffee and newspaper. Coming to your senses, you rolled over and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pee. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over to see James’ limp hand hanging over the edge of the armchair. 

You didn’t need him, you could do this. 

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting yourself up was easier than expected but that, unfortunately, made you a little overconfident for the rest of the journey. After a couple of steps the pain started. You felt pathetic but that amount of effort had actually winded you, all you could do was lower yourself to the ground to catch your breath. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

You didn’t even realise he’d woken up, you were too busy wheezing. 

“Gotta pee.” You managed to push your words out between gulped in breaths.

“What did I say last night, huh? You should’a yelled.” He lowered himself beside you, placing one arm around your back and one under your knees. “Alright, brace yourself.”

“Wait, what are you-”

You choked on your words when he lifted you clean off the floor, a feat that not many had accomplished in the past. He offered to take you as far as the toilet itself but you adamantly refused, determined to cling onto your last shred of dignity while just about managing to shuffle over there, supporting yourself on the sink. 

You washed your hands and intentionally avoided looking in the mirror, moving straight over to the door and finding your minder stood directly outside.

He folded his arms. “While you’re here, why not take a quick shower?”

“I’m not supposed to get my dressings wet.”

“Again, nice try, but you really gotta do better than that to bullshit me.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let me rot away in peace?”

“I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure your dad would refuse to pay me.”

“I’ll pay you to leave me alone.”

“You can’t afford me, honey.” He smirked and slipped past you. “I’ll get the water going.”

James turned the shower on and put some folded towels by the sink before heading back into your room and gathering some clean pyjamas. You just stayed where you were, leaning against the counter, as he buzzed around like an overexcited child.

“You’re all set. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Thank you, supernanny.”

He flipped you the bird. You laughed and locked the door.

Slowly, carefully, you got undressed, removed your bandages and placed them in the bin. You then had to perch yourself down on the closed toilet seat for a brief break before climbing into the shower. Standing under the water, you looked down at your wound for the first time in weeks, finding yourself amazed at how quickly it had healed. You ran your fingers over it. Never in a million years did you think you’d have a healed gunshot wound anywhere on your body. You thought back to what your aunt said, maybe it was unsightly, it certainly looked weird from this ang-

“You alright?”

James’ overbearing voice snapped you out of your train of thought.

“Yes.”

You turned off the shower and stepped out, lifting a towel to your face and savouring the feeling of finally being clean again. You couldn’t imagine how bad you must’ve smelled before. You pulled on the fresh pyjamas before taking a deep breath and wiping down the mirror, getting a nasty shock when you saw yourself. It looked like all the life had been drained out of you. Your face looked pallid, red eyes sitting above deep, dark bags while skin flaked from your chapped lips. Your hair was still dripping wet but you could tell that weeks of neglect had taken a toll on it.

It seemed like James might’ve come along just in time, any longer sitting in that misery pit and these changes might’ve become irreversible.

“Still all good?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, just trying to remember the most efficient way to cut wrists. Is it horizontal or vertical?”

Throwing your towel in the laundry basket, you opened the door to see a very unamused looking man. 

“Real funny.”

He didn’t get a chance to properly scold you before Elaine knocked on the door with breakfast, a smug grin settling on your face as it dawned on him that he probably shouldn’t cuss you out in front of your father’s closest confidante. 

The two of you settled into your designated spots. James immediately started digging into the plate that had been piled high for him but you held off, it had been a while since you stood up for that long and you needed to recover. Sharp pangs of stomach pain weren’t exactly the perfect accompaniment to a hearty appetite.

James placed his fork down on the table and leaned back in his chair, mouth full of food. “We gotta do this again, buttercup?”

“I just need a minute.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“We did,” a bolt of inspiration struck as you realised it was your turn to get a little something interesting out of this relationship, “but I want to change it up a bit.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I’ll eat if you tell me the most insane thing that’s happened to you while bodyguarding.”

“I really shouldn’t talk about that.”

“Shame,” you dramatically pushed your plate away with a flourish, “I was actually feeling pretty hungry.”

He considered, glaring at you from beneath an arched eyebrow and rhythmically tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Fine, but you gotta finish the whole plate.”

“The whole plate.”

“Alright.” 

He leant forward again and carried on eating so you followed suit, forcing down one small bite at a time and just hoping that his story would be worth the pain.

“So, one time some rich dude hired me ‘cause his daughter was worried she had a stalker. Apparently she kept seeing someone in a black hoodie following her around, she even saw ‘em standing on their lawn a few times. Thing is, no-one else had ever seen it. I think half the reason I was hired was to figure out if she was just going crazy.”

“Was she?”

“Be patient, pumpkin. You’ll find out.” Your cheeks flushed a little when he called you that. “A couple weeks passed and I hadn’t seen anything. Then, middle of the night, everyone else was asleep and I was doing my rounds. I looked out the window to the yard and there was someone standing underneath her window in a black hoodie.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. So, obviously, I sprinted down there, but they spotted me and started running. They vaulted the fence and I would’a lost ‘em in the trees but they got snagged on the other side. I grabbed ‘em, pulled down the hood and-” He eyed the huge fork-full of food you were hovering by your mouth, “you wanna eat that?”

You rolled your eyes, shoved it all in your face and let out a muffled plea. “And?”

“It was her, the daughter.”

“Fuck off.”

“Dead serious. Turns out one of her friends had a stalker and was getting a load of sympathy and attention because of it, so she got jealous and made up one of her own. She figured if I saw it just once everyone would believe her.”

“That’s so fucked. Is that even legal?”

“No idea, not my job. I got my paycheck and left the next morning.”

“Nice to know you really care about your clients.”

He laughed. “Most of my clients are spoiled assholes who never even bother to learn my name.”

“Really? Can’t be hard to learn a name as simple as Justin.” You received your second unamused scowl of the day. “Anyway, we spoiled brats have enough on our plate without having to learn the name of the person willing to take a bullet for us.”

“Nah, you’re not spoiled.”

“You think?”

“Trust me, I’ve seen spoiled. You’re not spoiled. I think you’re the only client I’ve actually enjoyed talking to.”

Interesting. Probably shouldn’t delve into that statement too deeply.

“I’d take that as a compliment but it sounds like there isn’t much competition.”

He smirked, staying silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “My friends call me Bucky, by the way. I prefer it to James. And I really prefer it to Justin.”

“If you insist,” you shrugged, “but I still think you’d make a good Timberlake.”

---

You managed to stomach a good amount of food that day and you even had a good stab at breakfast when the next day rolled around, so you hoped that Bucky might leave you to your own devices for a while now he’d got his own way.

He did not.

As soon as you’d swallowed the last mouthful of toast he announced that he was going to take you on a walk around the garden.

You looked from him to your stomach, then back at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, and it’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

“Can’t we just open a window?”

“Nope.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair and jumped to his feet. “C’mon sweetheart, you know I’m just gonna annoy the hell out of you until you agree.”

“Is threatening me allowed in your contract?”

“It’s not a threat. It’s persuasion with consequences.”

You eventually relented. He was super keen to get going but it soon became clear that he’d overestimated how far along the healing process you were, it took the two of you almost an hour just to get out of your bedroom and down the stairs with all the constant stopping for breath. Bucky went ahead and pulled open the sliding glass door, your mood instantly lifting when the first breeze of fresh air washed over you. You were starting to hate how often he was right. 

He offered you his arm and set a bench on the other side of the lawn as your goal. The neatly mowed grass felt soft between your toes, the faint sounds of birds and planes overhead helping you relax a great deal more than the constant background noise from the TV you’d kept switched on for weeks now. When you reached your goal, Bucky helped you lower yourself onto the seat and carefully squeezed himself beside you once you were settled. Sitting this close to him felt strange, you were used to him being confined to his armchair, and the bench was a pretty small one. His thigh was pressed up against yours. You tried not to think about it.

Deeply inhaling the smell of grass and flowers into your lungs made you feel like a new person but it was also making you a little drowsy, the journey down had zapped all your energy and the warmth from the morning sun was cosy and soothing. 

The next thing you remembered was your head being gently nudged, prompting your eyes to flicker open. 

“Sorry, princess. I’d let you sleep for hours but I really need to pee.”

You came to your senses and felt the crook of Bucky’s neck against the top of your head. His arm was around you, hand gently resting on your shoulder. 

“Shit, sorry.” In your embarrassment you sat up a little too quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through your stomach. 

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah. Just, y’know, the ol’ bullet would.” You laughed off his concern and waved him away. “Go pee.”

“Alright, I’ll just be a minute, don’t move.”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

He was already sprinting across the lawn when he shouted back. “That’s the spirit, sunshine.”

You shot a giddy grin at the back of his head. It still felt like morning but you had no idea how long you’d been knocked out for, you just knew you could very easily spend every night resting in Bucky’s neck like that.

---

Your shadow had been with you for about a week now and, contrary to all initial expectations, you’d actually been enjoying his company. He could be annoying as hell with his constant demands pushing you further and further when all you wanted to do was melt into the couch, but you could see that he was good for you. You supposed that being forced to spend every second of every day with someone gave you no choice but to recognize their good qualities. Thankfully, he seemed to have a lot of those. 

Elaine had just collected the dishes from lunch and Bucky had somehow stolen the remote from you. He flicked on some appallingly trashy reality show, your concentration faded in and out but every time you forced yourself to pay attention someone was either screaming or necking. 

You’d barely even registered the knock at your bedroom door when he jumped up and launched himself towards it like the diligent little soldier he was. You listened intently, your stomach turning when you heard Carol’s voice interspersed with his. Hopefully he’d assess her as a security threat and slam the door in her stupid face.

To your great disappointment, he did not. 

“Oh my,” she looked a little more like a painted old hag than a pantomime dame today, “who is that and where can I get one?”

“That’s James, dad hired him to keep an eye on me.”

“Do you know which agency he’s with?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t uncle Frank leave you the house and the security guard in his will?”

“Ugh, yes but he could’ve been a bit more thoughtful. I’d rather not have to look at that beer belly every time I drive through the front gate.”

“I see.”

You tried to plead for help from Bucky with your eyes but he was too busy giving a confused look to the back of her embroidered jacket, the one that you were convinced had been made from old curtains and lampshade tassels. She placed herself down in his seat, leaving him bewildered, turning on the spot like a glitched out video game NPC. He eventually just sat beside you. 

“So,” she crossed her veiny old legs, “did you like the present I brought you before?”

You did not like the present she brought you before. It was a self help book whose blurb encouraged you to 'break free from your own mental cage' and 'start being the best version of you'. That mindset is incredibly toxic, Carol. Therapists and antidepressants exist for a reason, Carol. Not everyone can make themselves feel better by getting sloppy wine drunk on their dead husband's money every evening, Carol.

“Yeah, it was great. Thanks.”

“I knew you'd love it, so I brought you something else.” She scurried around in her comically oversized purse for a while before pulling out a small white tub. “It's that miracle balm I told you about, for the scar.” 

She noiselessly mouthed the word scar and covered the side of her mouth so Bucky couldn't see, like it was a dirty word, like she couldn't bear to think of the handsome man in the room knowing about such an ugly thing. 

“Oh right, thanks but I'm not really supposed to put anything on it while it's still healing. Could get infected.” 

“No honey, if you let that thing heal on its own you'll regret it, trust me.”

“Well, the doctor said-”

“Baby, look at me.” The legs became uncrossed as she leaned in. “I'm going to be honest now because I love you. Your body is a five out of ten, maybe a six if you did a cleanse.” 

“Right…”

“Now, with this hideous thing sitting on your stomach, you're down to a three. I don't want that for you, do you?”

You were speechless for a second. The words fuck off were just beginning to form in your mouth when she cut you off, turning her attention to the equally pissed looking Bucky.

“How about a man's perspective, hmm? You wouldn't want a partner with something so ghastly on them, would you?”

The calmness with which he answered her was pretty impressive.

“Well, to be honest, I couldn't give a fuck, cause I tend to rate personality higher. Like you, for example, are two out of ten but with a few lessons in grace and courtesy, I could see you moving up to a solid five.”

Your mouth fell open. The breath hitched in your lungs as your eyes flicked between the two of them, one looking outraged, the other looking very fucking pleased with himself. The silence was tense. 

After a few seconds she leapt up and stormed out of the room, her heels rapidly clicking against the floor while she screeched your father's name. 

Bucky just shrugged at you. “Guess her own medicine didn’t taste too sweet.”

“That was amazing.”

“I'm used to dealing with assholes like that,” he followed her lead, standing up and heading for the door, “but, unlucky for her, I'm in charge of who gets access to this room.”

“You can ban her?”

“If I think she's causing you harm I can do whatever I want.”

“You’re my new favourite person.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

He’d been gone for a while when some muffled shouting started downstairs. Too invested in the situation not to investigate, you decided to slide yourself off the couch and press your ear to the floor in an effort to make out the words. It didn’t work, obviously, and you soon realised there was no way in hell you’d be able to hoist yourself back up again. You just had to wait on the ground while your dignity slowly drained away piece by piece.

Bucky eventually returned, predictably freaking out when he spotted you.

“Shit, what happened? Did you fall?”

“No I kinda… slid.” He gave you a puzzled look while lifting you back onto the couch. “Sorry, I was trying to hear the argument. What happened?”

“She won't be bothering you again.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Can I keep you forever?” You rested your head against the couch cushions. “I’ll let you watch as much trash TV as you want.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

---

A week passed and then another, and with each day you were achieving more and more. Bucky had you showering every day, eating three square meals and taking increasingly lengthy walks around the garden- when your painkillers were doing their job. He’d even spoken to your father about making sure everyone in the house waited for a response after knocking on your door. It sounded like an insignificant thing but you really valued every ounce of privacy you could get your hands on, and it did wonders for improving your mood. 

Another thing that was helping in that regard was spending most of your downtime just talking with him. On more than a few occasions you’d actually forgotten he was being paid to stick around, it felt more like you were hanging out with an old friend. 

Sometimes it felt like you were hanging out with more than a friend but, every time those feelings started to surface, you quickly pushed them back down into the dark depths in your mind. Acknowledging them would just set you up for inevitable disappointment. 

Today, you’d agreed to leave your father’s property for the first time since the incident. Bucky had offered to take you out for a coffee as a soft reintroduction back into the normal world. He drove you out in his ridiculously oversized SUV, passing plenty of perfectly good coffee shops so he could show you his favourite one. It didn’t look like anything special but you trusted him. 

He helped you to one of the outside tables, took your order and shuffled inside, giving you a wink over the top of his sunglasses. You rested your hands on the table and glanced around. The street was busy with people and cars and most of the other tables were full, it was midday so you figured most of them were working people taking their lunch breaks.

Then, just for a second, out of the corner of your eye you saw someone in the street stop. Looking over, you made brief eye contact with them before they checked their watch and continued walking. Why were they looking at you? Your eyes darted around the other faces passing by, your panic starting to rise when another of them looked your way. 

You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your palms prickling with sweat. The quickening pace of your heart made it harder and harder to pull breath into your lungs, all the muscles in your legs started to tense and your vision blurred at the edges. 

“You okay?”

Two takeout cups were hastily abandoned on the table in front of you and a soothing hand landed on your back, Bucky’s face trying to make its way into your line of sight.

“Mhmm.”

“I told you not to bullshit me. What happened?”

“Nothing, really. I just-” You pulled in a stuttering breath. “Need to adjust.”

“Pretty hard to do that when you’re mid panic attack, no? C’mere.”

He turned you round to face him and took you through some breathing exercises, helping you get back in control. The worst of the storm eventually passed but you were pretty shaken up, and he could tell.

“Maybe this was too soon.”

“No, this is good. It probably would’ve happened even if we'd waited longer. Better to get it out of the way.”

“And what if the coffee had taken another ten minutes? You would’a just passed out while I was waiting for fucking milk to foam.”

He seemed angry, but not at you. 

“It’s okay, Buck. Really. I could’ve been hit by a truck on the walk over from the car but wasn’t, so why worry about it.”

“Still, we should get you somewhere less crowded,” he took you by the hand, which was unusual, cause he usually just guided you with a flat palm on the back, “probably should’ve started with that.”

You headed back to the car, Bucky somehow juggling you along with two hot drinks, and drove a few miles out of the city. He said he knew of a short, flat hiking trail out in the woods that was only ever busy on weekends. It wasn’t exactly the reintroduction into society that the two of you had planned but, at the very least, it was a step above walks around the yard. 

He calmed down once you began walking, the jolly, laid back, Bucky that you were used to quickly resurfacing. It was a huge relief, him being on edge made you on edge and that wasn’t exactly the optimum mood for avoiding another panic attack. 

He kept a firm arm around you most of the way, anchoring you to him and protecting you against potential falls. You were pretty sure they were the only reasons.

“I must look fucking dreadful,” you chuckled, “if we bump into anyone they’ll probably think you just found me in the woods.”

“Shut up, you look great.”

“For a three-week-old corpse.”

“A corpse wouldn’t argue back so much.”

“I’m just keeping you on your toes.”

“Damn right you are.”

You smiled to yourself, hearing the warmth in his voice, and decided now was a good time to finally ask him a question you’d been thinking about for a while.

“So, you’ve really never had another client you’ve enjoyed talking to? Not even one?”

“Not that I can remember.” He shrugged slightly. “Why are you so surprised, anyway? We both know how many assholes there are out there.”

“True. I just think you’re easy to talk to, I guess. I’m surprised no-one else made the effort.”

“That’s sweet of you doll, but you should know that just letting me sit by you was completely new for me. I usually don’t even get a chair, never mind a conversation.”

“Brutal. I’m glad the shelter rehomed you with us.”

“Me too.” 

You laughed for a second before realising that all this talking had used up your pitiful lung capacity. You came to a stop, Bucky quickly moving to stand in front of you. 

“Something wrong?”

“No, I could just use a break.”

“Take as long as you need,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, “we can sit for a while if you want.”

“I’m good.”

Without thinking, you placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself, immediately realising that it was kind of a weird thing to do. Your eyes shot up to his but he was just smiling softly, seemingly unbothered. 

The two of you held that position for what felt like an age. 

Then, slowly, cautiously, his hands moved down to rest on your lower back, just above your hips. He stepped in closer and your hands tensed, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt. He lowered his head, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. You eagerly reciprocated, curling a hand around the back of his neck in a feeble attempt to keep him there as long as you could. It fell, however, when he abruptly pulled away, your arms going limp at your sides.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay, I-”

“It’s not. Jesus, I’m supposed to be looking after you.” He rubbed his eyes. “We should get back.”

“Can you just wait for a second? I’m not-”

“No.” He was stern, he’d never talked to you like that before. “We’re going back to the car, now.”

You were too shocked to argue. The walk back was tense and the drive home was the same, you looked over at him a few times but his stony expression encouraged you to keep quiet. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had he in your eyes, but you really had to keep reminding yourself of that. It felt like you’d committed a crime. 

Once home, you headed up to your room but he didn’t follow, which was unusual. When your father knocked on your door later and told you that Bucky had removed himself from duty, you weren’t surprised. He claimed that a big job had come up out of nowhere. 

He never even said goodbye.

---

You hadn’t so much as heard from Bucky since he left over a month ago. You’d maintained all his rituals and kept your healing process on track, adapting your daily walks so you could do them alone, sticking nearby walls and railings. It was a real struggle, emotionally and physically, but you were determined not to let him abandoning you knock you off course. You didn’t even let yourself cry when he left. You were just angry. 

So, naturally, when a chance for you to prove to yourself how far you’d progressed without him came around, you jumped at it. A friend of your father’s was throwing a birthday party for his daughter, you’d never been able to stand her but you hadn’t had a proper drink since the incident- and the booze there would be insanely expensive stuff. Plus, you’d been pining for any excuse to wear something other than pyjamas.

You strolled into the party, arm in arm with your father, and you felt good. You felt ready to be there. That was, until you saw who was working security detail. You barely recognised him in the full black bodyguard suit, you were so used to a t-shirt and jeans, but it was definitely him. Your evening was instantly ruined as you started mentally plotting the best way to avoid him.

You decided a good first step was to head straight to the bathroom to compose yourself, giving yourself the same pep talk in the mirror that you’d given the day after he left. You’d come too far to let him fuck up your first big outing. You dabbed the nervous sweat from your upper lip, adjusted your outfit and gave yourself a nod. You could do this. You just needed to stay away.

Wandering back into the party, you looked around for your father, the only person in the room you had any interest in talking to. You heard your name being called over the music and turned towards it. There he was, standing beside Bucky, beckoning you over. 

So your plan was fucked, then. 

Your stomach tightened. You grabbed a drink from a nearby table and moved over reluctantly.

“There you are. Listen, James was just telling me about the big job he was called to, it sounds incredibly interesting.”

“Oh, really?” 

You took a big gulp of champagne, wondering if Bucky’s fictitious story was as good as the real one he’d told you over breakfast that time. Or maybe that one was all made up, too. You glanced over and accidentally caught his eye for a second, but he quickly broke away and looked back at your father. 

“I probably shouldn’t go into any more detail.”

“Of course not, I wouldn't want you getting in trouble.” You involuntarily scoffed at your father’s words but managed to play it off as a cough. “It’s such a shame, though. You two seemed to really be getting on well together.” 

Your father looked back and forth between the two of you like he was watching a tennis match, unaware of how painfully awkward the lingering silence was. You finished off your champagne and grabbed a fresh glass from a passing waiter, looking around the room for any excuse to leave this conversation. Unfortunately, your father found one first. 

“Ah, there’s the birthday girl, I’d better go pass on some well wishes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

You cringed as he walked away. Quickly deciding that it was better to not even attempt conversation, you just silently nodded at Bucky and turned to leave. You didn’t get far, however, as he grabbed hold of your arm and stepped towards you. 

“Can we talk?”

You were incredibly shocked but tried to play it off. “I guess."

“In private?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you glared down at his hand, “but I would like it if you let go of my arm.”

“Sorry.” 

He released his grip and you took a small step away, putting a safe distance between your faces. You were still pissed off at him, that much was for sure, but you weren’t ready to trust yourself being in such close proximity to him again. Anything could happen. 

“I get why you’re pissed at me, I would be too. I just need to explain.”

“I know why you did what you did, Buck. You don’t need-”

“Please. Someone’s taking over my shift in ten minutes, will you meet me upstairs?”

“Upstairs? Like, past the rope with the big no guests allowed sign?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to sneak past,” he smirked slightly, “I heard the security here sucks.”

He was right, too. You got up there with absolutely no trouble whatsoever. 

All of the doors off the hallway were closed apart from one, at the very end. You took a gamble and slowly approached, peeking your head round to see Bucky perched on the edge of a huge bed. He shot up when he spotted you in the doorway.

“Sorry, I know this is kinda weird, it's the only room that wasn’t locked or, y’know… occupied.”

“Lovely.”

He nodded and gave you a smile. “You look great. Amazing, actually. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” his smile melted you a little, “mostly thanks to you.” 

“Ah, you would’a been fine, I just annoyed you into being fine a bit sooner.”

You nervously rubbed the back of your head, in disbelief at how quickly he’d broken through your thick wall of resentment. You scrambled around trying to gather up some of the bricks and rebuild but being in the presence of that slick motherfucker was making it really difficult. 

You gathered your thoughts, took a breath and spoke. 

“Buck, like I said downstairs, you don’t need to explain. Obviously making out with your clients is a fireable offence, I get that, so you had to leave. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“You think I left ‘cause of that? You think some shitty job is more important to me than you?”

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

“Jesus, I really am an asshole.” You gave him a confused frown as he reached out and took both of your hands in his. “Look, I couldn’t give a shit about this job, there’s bodyguarding positions everywhere and most of them don’t involve babysitting rich assholes. I left ‘cause I felt like I’d taken advantage of you. I couldn’t stand it.”

“Huh?”

“You were in a bad place. You were vulnerable and I was supposed to be looking after you, not- y’know...”

“Sucking face?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Right, but you do remember that I’m not a child, yeah? Just because I’m feeling shitty doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself.”

“But it does mean your judgement is at least a little impaired.”

“Fine, whatever, but it isn’t anymore.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’m telling you now as a fully sane, rational adult that you didn’t do anything wrong. Alright?”

A relieved smile spread across his face. “Alright.”

“Good, cause I made a decision and I’m sticking to it.

“Might be a bad decision.”

“Sometimes bad decisions are more fun.”

“You can say that again.”

Your second kiss with Bucky was, somehow, even better. He was more sure of himself this time, less cautious, he moved in quicker. You did the same, wrapping both arms around his neck and letting him take some of your weight. You felt him smile against you as a hand dived into the back of your hair.

Now this was a kiss worth being fired for. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “For the record, the first time wasn’t a mistake. It was a… happy accident.”

“Whatever you say,” you chuckled, “I’m just glad we bumped into each other again.”

“Oh, we didn’t. I took this job after checking the guestlist.”

“You sneaky fucker.”

“You know it.”

---