#now spread love with the hugs we’ve given

[pathologicalreid]

clue | S.R.

in which penelope hosts a new year's eve party. with a murder mystery theme.

who? spencer reid x fem!journalist!reader

category: fluff, slice of life

content warnings: all of the characters are dressed as detectives. marriage, murder, mentions of blood, fireworks, slight descriptions of fake violence, reader wears a dress, this is very haphazardly proofread. very slightly suggestive in the beginning if you squint.

word count: 2.95k

a/n: happy new year's eve friends! this idea has been rotting in my brain since i read the prompt. i started with the idea that i wanted reader and kristy to win and a dream, and now here i am. it was genuinely so much fun to write. (and now i have spencer x journalist!reader brain rot) i always see people writing for these challenges but this is my first time participating!

i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins' office party challenge based on the prompt "Penelope planned a Murder Mystery party... with a bunch of criminal profilers. Great. (Bonus if a non-profiler wins)" thank you so much for this challenge!

“I have no idea why Penelope felt the need to rent an AirBnB for a New Year’s Eve party,” you whispered, getting out of the car along with Spencer. “Or why we had to dress in costume,” you said, pulling your shawl over your shoulders.

Gently reaching over, Spencer tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ears, “It’s a Penelope Garcia party, that means it’s a production. Additionally, this is the first New Year's Eve we’ve been in town in four years, which means there’s no need for an MHM.”

Grinning up at your fiancé, you responded, “There does seem to be a moratorium on violent crime this holiday season.” The best Christmas gift you received this year was finding Spencer sleeping in bed next to you when you woke up.

You watched him reach into the back of the car for his jacket. The costume description Garcia had given him was similar to what he wore on a normal day. You helped him pick out the brown sweater vest and matching tie, but he selected the rest of the ensemble. “Did I tell you that you look incredible?” He asked, pulling his jacket on.

“I believe those were the words that caused us to be fifteen minutes late, Dr. Reid,” you chided but smiled nonetheless when Spencer pulled you close and embraced you.

You felt him smile against your neck, “Worth it,” he whispered.

Dragging him by the arm, you stood on the porch and knocked on the door. Almost instantly, a familiar voice rang out, “You have to use the knocker!” Penelope called out.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes and took the bronze adornment in your hand and knocked it against the red-painted door. The heavy door swung open and you were greeted by Penelope Garcia, “Welcome Dr. Reid and Someday Mrs. Reid, to the New Year’s party that will, likely, be the New Year’s party to end all New Year’s parties.”

“I have no doubt, Pen,” you stepped forward and hugged her. “You look great, I love this color,” you told her, settling your hands on your shoulders. She wore a lime green button-down dress with an old-timey collar, and her blonde locks were pulled up into a French twist.

Spencer and Penelope greeted each other, and Garcia led the two of you to a sitting room, “Where did you find this house?” Spencer asked, walking in behind you.

She waved him off, “I am the master of all things Internet, I found it online and thought it was perfect.”

Your heels clicked as you followed the two of them. They were quicker, Penelope knew where she was going and Spencer naturally had a long stride, not to mention the restriction of your gown. “Perfect for what, exactly?” You inquired.

“A BAU Murder Mystery party!” She answered as if it was obvious.

A wolf whistle from the other side of the room caught your attention, you turned around to see Tara grinning at you, “Well how about you.”

Blushing, you spread the skirt of the red silk dress out and gave a fake curtsy, “Oh this? Just something I had lying around.” In reality, you borrowed the dress from a coworker. Its only fault was being just barely too long for you.

Once you observed Tara’s costume, an off-white button-up with brown suspenders and matching pants, the gears in your head clicked into place. “We’re dressed as characters from Clue?” You asked, looking at everyone’s costumes. It all suddenly made so much sense, you were Miss Scarlet, and Tara was meant to be Colonel Mustard.

“Well, there are only so many characters to choose from, so I needed some other detectives to choose from. I picked Nancy Drew, Spencer is Sherlock Holmes with Matt as his Watson, and Krystall is Jessica Fletcher from the renowned television show Murder She Wrote.” Penelope pointed at guests as she explained their outfits, “Kristy is Daphne of the differently renowned television show Scooby Doo, and Luke refused to dress up at Hercule Poirot.”

Your eyebrows raised up, “I didn’t know not dressing up was an option,” you admitted. Despite the weather being unseasonably warm, you were still cold in your dress.

Sending a pointed look in Luke’s direction, Penelope cleared her throat before responding, “It wasn’t.”

Putting a hand to his chest in mock hurt, Luke feigned shock, “I did dress up as a very famous detective. Matt Simmons of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“But does that really count as famous?” The man himself, Matt asked teasingly.

In response, Luke gestured around the room, “Everyone here has heard of him.”

You tuned the two of them out. When provided the time, the two of them could bicker for hours. You looked at everyone else’s costumes, the rest of the group was from the board game. Emily was Mrs. White, Rossi was Professor Plum, JJ was Mrs. Peacock, and Will was Mr. Green.

The BAU spent so much time sequestered solving crimes that it was a wonder to have the entire group here at the same time.

After effectively shushing Luke, Penelope made her way to the center of the room, “Okay, I know what you’re all thinking ‘Penelope, we spend all of our days solving murders, why would you plan a murder mystery party?’” She stood up straight, pushing her shoulders back, “Well, I’ll tell you, the idea for this party came to me when I had the flu last month.”

“Are you telling us this party was conceived from a fever dream?” Emily asked, she leaned forward in her all-white outfit, resting her elbows on her knees.

Pointing at Emily, Penelope grinned, “That is exactly what I am telling you, my dear. Now, let me set the stage for you.” She clapped and the lights went out, bringing everyone’s attention to a projector screen that had just lit up against the only bare wall in this room. “Our victim was a resident of this house. What’s her name? You might ask. Patricia Gomez, heiress to a large fortune and a company that makes socks.”

A quiet chuckle came from the other side of the room, “This is quite the fever dream.” You had to agree with Rossi, Patricia Gomez was an almost painfully uncreative name. Still, everyone went along with it.

“Save all questions until the end, please!” Penelope scolded, “I have folders made up for each of you, with information on where your characters all were at the time of the murder. Before attending this party, the killer was already notified of their status, they may try to fool you.”

You skimmed through the folder that the technical analyst had handed you, it looked like a real FBI folder, but you didn’t doubt that Garcia had resources to make realistic fake files. The body had been found, stabbed in the kitchen, the time of death set at noon.

Matt stood up first, reaching out his hand for Kristy to take, but they didn’t get far. “Oh no, no partnering with your partners,” Penelope said, laying down another rule for her party.

“What are you saying?” Spencer asked, looking between you and her. It was sweet knowing that he had wanted to team up with you, it reminded you of how you first met. The FBI profiler and the investigative journalist.

Garcia sighed, “If you are canoodling with someone, you may not investigate with them.”

You shrugged at Spencer and walked toward Kristy instead, “What do you say, Daphne? Shall we?”

“Oh, I think we shall,” Kristy responded, hooking her arm through yours.

“Hey,” Luke interrupted, “It’s not fair for the investigative journalist and the lawyer to be teamed up to solve a murder.”

Stopping in your tracks, you stared at him for a moment, “Luke, you work for the FBI. If anything, I think we’re at a disadvantage.”

Together, you and Kristy made your way to the kitchen, as you walked away you heard Luke ask Garcia to be his partner, the two of you laughed as she told him she wasn’t playing because, “Somebody has to keep things organized, Newbie!”

Looking around the kitchen, you found a chalk outline, but not much else. Of course, this wasn’t a real crime scene, there would be no blood, and for all you knew, Kristy was the killer.

“What are you thinking, Dave?” You asked Rossi, who had teamed up with JJ. Maybe a seasoned profiler would push you in the right direction.

He cocked his head like he was weighing his options, “Well, the folder says there were only four people in the building at the time of the murder, and only one of them was close enough to the kitchen to pull it off. Logically, the best option is Mrs. White.”

So, he thought Emily was responsible. You scrawled some notes down about the kitchen before you and Kristy decided to move to the bedroom, “It says Watson – Matt - was in the main bedroom at the time of the murder, Mrs. White – Emily - was in the pantry, Jessica Fletcher – Krystall – was in the basement, and Professor Plum – Rossi – was in the library,” you read from the file.

“Then Dave is right, Emily is the only one who was close enough to get to Patricia,” Kristy reasoned. There wouldn’t have been time for anyone else to commit the crime in between the time the body was found and the time of death. The timeline of events was very short.

You shrugged, “Then I guess we could probably go to the library until the timer runs out.” Picking up the skirt of your dress, the two of you left the bathroom and walked into the library. Leaning up against the shelves, you intertwined your fingers in front of you, “Do you have plans for the new year?” You asked Kristy, tilting your head.

She hummed, “A lot of our plans tend to change. You know, with Matt’s job and the kids, but we’d like to take some kind of vacation, even if it’s just a day trip.” She answered, brushing her long hair over her shoulder, “What about you?”

“Oh,” you said, “You know, getting married.” You answered, “Then we’re just planning on seeing where life takes us, I think. You’re right, it’s hard to plan around the job. I can’t imagine adding kids into the mix.” The thought gave you a whole new respect for Kristy – and Will, for that matter.

Kristy smiled, “Totally worth it, though.”

Laughing it off, you pushed yourself off of the shelving, “I think I’ll take your word for it,” you responded. “For now,” you added, looking around the library.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, following your gaze around the library.

Realizing this must be how the BAU feels all the time, you answered, “Something is bothering me about this case.” Kristy beckoned for you to go on, “They all solve crimes like this every day, so in order to make it fun for them, Penny would have to make it at least a little bit of a challenge, right?” You asked.

“You think it was too easy?” Kristy asked.

You started pacing around the library, along the front of the desk. “The answer being Emily is too easy. There has to be something more to it.”

“Well, the file says she had experienced a blow to the head shortly before her death. So, is it possible she was incapacitated somewhere else and then moved to the kitchen to be killed?” Kristy asked, flipping through the file, she was sat on top of the wooden desk.

Nodding, you looked at the generated picture of your fake victim. She wore a large ruby necklace, her hair was pinned up, but in the list of effects and evidence, a necklace was never mentioned. “Did you see a necklace in the kitchen?” You asked, flicking your eyes over in her direction.

Immediately, she shook her head you spun around to go back to the kitchen. Mid-spin the heel of your shoe hooked into the too-long fabric of your dress, causing you to tumble ungracefully to the floor. “Are you alright?” Kristy asked. Not for the first time tonight, you found yourself jealous of her shorter dress. Damned board game characters.

Groaning in response, you blinked in an attempt to reorient yourself. In your peripheral vision, something caught your eye: a necklace. “Kristy,” you whispered urgently, hoisting yourself up into a sitting position before reaching over to grab the gold chain. It was crusted with something red that you could only hope was ketchup. Unless Penelope was taking this game way too seriously.

You lifted the chain curiously. “That’s the necklace that Patricia was wearing when she died!” Kristy exclaimed, “But that means…”

“Rossi did it,” you said from the floor. “And he tried to fool us with his poker face.”

Setting the necklace on the desk, you reached down to take your heels off. Kristy spoke, “Do you think the necklace is enough evidence for us to make our case?”

Raising your eyebrows, you looked up at her, “I don’t know. You’re the lawyer, do you think it’s enough evidence?”

She nodded, “I think the evidence pointing to Emily is circumstantial, but this necklace has substance to it. And no one else has gone through the library, so at the very least we’ll have a unique answer.”

You grinned, “I like the way you think, Mrs. Simmons.” You reached out your hand and she helped you up, “Let’s go show these FBI agents how it’s done.” The two of you headed back to the sitting room.

The room was full when you got there, “Ah, I thought we were going to have to send out a search party for the two of you!” Penelope said, “Sit, sit, I’m sure we have some excellent conclusions to go through.” She handed the both of you glasses of wine before you sat down next to each other on the velvet chaise lounge.

Honestly, it reminded you of grade school. When your teacher would go through the answers on the homework, only for you to find that, somewhere, you had done something terribly wrong. By the time it got to you and Kristy, half of the people said it was Emily, almost half had said it was Matt, and one person said it was Kristy.

Nonetheless, the two of you stood up and announced your conclusion, “it was Rossi,” you said in unison.

“First, we met with David in the kitchen, and we asked him what he thought,” you said. “He could’ve said no, he could’ve said something else, but he told us how he thought Emily Prentiss was the killer.” You explained, “Now, as extremely professional detectives, we know that frequently, killers can’t help but insert themselves into the investigations.”

Lifting her hand in a waiting gesture, Kristy continued, “But we heard him out, and we trusted his conclusion. Until we didn’t, that is.” She said, “After some more expert investigation, we went to the library, where Rossi had claimed to have been at the time of the murder. It was there that my partner discovered the victim's necklace. It was broken as if it had been torn off of her neck, and there was blood on the chain.”

“This is combined with the report that the victim had experienced a blow to the head before she died, which could’ve easily been inflicted by the corner of the very desk I discovered the necklace beneath,” you resumed. “We propose that David Rossi, otherwise known as Professor Plum, incapacitated the victim in the library, before moving her to the kitchen so he could claim he had no part in her death.”

Rossi looked up at Penelope, who grinned and nodded, “I didn’t even realize I had done that in the kitchen earlier. Are you by chance looking for a new line of work?” He asked, getting a chorus of laughter in response.  

“For my two winners,” Garcia said, her smile still bright as she draped two medals around your and Kristy’s necks. “Thank you, everyone, so much for playing this game. I know it’s hard to see it as a game when it all feels so real, but I appreciate you for separating fact and fiction for tonight.”

It was Luke who responded first, “Of course.”

“But maybe,” Rossi said, raising his wine glass in his hand, “Maybe next year we’ll just do a normal party.”

Tara raised her glass in response, “If you’re hosting, I’m attending.”

You nodded, concurring, “Far be it from me to miss a BAU party.”

Behind you, Spencer loosely wrapped his arm around your waist, “It’s almost the new year.”

“Aha!” Penelope said, “I have one last surprise for all of my favorite people! If you’ll just follow me out to the deck, we’ll be able to see the fireworks from here!”

Outside, the cool air bit at your bare skin. Ever the gentleman, Spencer draped his jacket over your shoulders. Grateful for the warmth, you pushed your arms through the sleeves and turned to face him, “You know, we’ve been together for years, but this will be our first New Year’s kiss.” You said, studying his face, every detail that you’ve come to know over the past few years.

Distantly, you heard the rest of the group counting down, but you were too focused on Spencer. “It won’t be our last, though,” he promised.

You grinned up at him, “As long as we get to go to the BAU party, Sherlock.”

“Of course,” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Happy New Year, Miss Scarlett.”

[dancingwithreality]

a dream p.g.10

gif not mine!

parings: pierre gasly x fem!reader ; friends to lovers

word count: 3.9k

summary: a drabble on pierre’s unrelenting feelings for you, what started as a childhood crush turned into full fledged love and it was eating him alive.

a/n: for context purposes, pierre isn’t with kika (duh) and the fia dropped those penalties 11pm in austria just so the scene makes sense. started writing this before silverstone so we’re going into our own little world with this. will make other parts if people like it enough

please do not take my work! enjoy and interact!

AUSTRIA WAS OVER, finally, and the weekend proved to be more than eventful. For your best friend, the results were just what he needed. Ferrari made some additions to their car and Charles was finally to get back on the podium. Unfortunately for your other best friend it wasn’t perfect. 

‘Tenth isn’t bad, you’re still in points,’ you remind Pierre as you perfect your makeup and touch up your hair in the mirror.

‘A point,’ he stresses. ‘One singular point, I’m still 15 points behind Esteban,’ he slouches further into the arm chair he’s occupying. His hair is a mess from how many times his hands run through it, his white linen shirt only getting more wrinkled and he decompresses in your hotel room.

Walking past him to your suitcase, you reach for the only pair of heels you brought, and slip them on. The thin white straps perfectly matched the white silk dress you decided on. ‘There will be more races, the gap will close. Besides, tonight we can get drunk and celebrate Charles, forget about your sour mood until the morning.’ You stand up and walk over to him, hands reached out. He placed his hands in yours and allowed you to pull him up begrudgingly. 

Standing at now an almost equal height, you mess with his hair to try and make him look more presentable. Pierre keeps that far off look in his eyes while he stares down at you. There’s something behind his eyes you cant quite place but you chop it up to being unpleased with todays results. 

‘You look more presentable now, lets go,’ you grab your purse and keep one hand wrapped around his while you exit the hotel room. You meet up with Charles in the elevator and give him another congratulatory hug before making your way to whatever club everyone wanted to go to tonight.

••• 

Drinks were flowing, moral was taking multiple hits, and you were out of your mind drunk dancing with Lando off the side of the dance floor. It was roughly midnight now, and someone had gotten the memo of the twelve penalties given out and told everyone. You can’t remember exactly who got the information, but it spread quickly throughout the group. As formally mentioned, Lando was having the night of his life. He benefitted from all of it and moved up to fourth so he decided he was going out in style tonight.

Poor Esteban was at the corner of the bar slowly nursing his drink while he was grieving the news. Lewis had left to facetime Roscoe, thinking it could make him feel better. Carlos, already in an off mood since breaking it off with Isa, was singing some of the most depressing Spanish songs you’d heard, his back against the booth while Charles watched over him. 

Pierre’s mood hadn’t changed, he was still sulking but this time it was Charles’ problem. He watched you have fun with Lando, wishing it was one of those nights where your happiness rubbed off on him. Charles could almost smell the desperation flowing off of him as he watched you as well. He turned his head and faced Pierre, he knew that look. 

Charles released a quick breath, ‘You know, we’ve known each other a long time, we’re getting too old for this mate,’ he took a quick sip of his drink and pointed his eyes at Pierre.

Pierre turned his head to face Charles, ‘Yeah..’ he didn’t know where Charles was going with this. 

‘Some things can’t be bottled up forever, feelings, secrets..’ he pushed further.

‘Okay..?’ he still didn’t understand.

‘Secretly pinning over your friend you’re in love with, is kinda tiring,’ Charles sighed.

‘Look mate, I love you but not like that,’ Pierre scooted a few inches further from him. 

‘Merde,’ Charles rubbed his face, ‘you love her.’ 

‘What? I’ve known her for years, she’s my best friend,’ he said with a little extra stress on the friend.

‘Ah, but you knew I was talking about her.’ Charles eyes dart over to you, still dancing with Lando. Your head was knocked back in laughter, he must of said something, because while you laughed Lando’s face was pink and he had a shy smile.

‘Charles,’ Pierre started but got quickly interrupted.

‘You can’t lie to me, I know you too well. I know what’s in your head.’ Charles wrapped his knuckles lightly over the side of Pierre’s head. 

His hand was quickly shooed away. ‘ You’re not a guru mate, relax.’ The Frenchman reached for his drink again and took a lengthy sip. ‘She’s my best friend, I can’t lose her if it doesn’t work out. Things are perfect as they are.’

‘Are they? You’ve never held a solid relationship and follow her like a lost puppy. You’ll never know unless you actually make a move.’

‘And if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?’

‘She won’t. You know she’s not like that, she loves you too much.’ The two men shared a long look as Pierre let his gaze fall back to you, Charles let out a deep sigh went back to babysitting Carlos.

•••

Maybe two hours had passed and Pierre was dragging you back to the hotel. You all had a flight around midday, and he knew you would prefer if you weren’t drunk during it. You’d bid goodbye to both Charles and Carlos an hour ago when they left before you, Charles leaving with a pat on Pierre’s back and a silent look.

Now it was just the two of you, long time best friends walking back to your room. Your shoes had been long discarded as they only got harder to walk in. Pierre was holding them in his hands while you rested against his back. As soon as you’d left the club you begged him to carry you, the dancing had tired you out too much, you said.

Knowing how chivalrous he was, and how he could never say no when you looked at him like that, he let you hop on his back and he carried you to bed. From the street, to the lobby, to the elevator, and back up in your room, he absorbed the feeling of you. Your arms around his neck and your soft breath tickling him as you quietly sang all your favorite ABBA songs, the warmth of your chest on his back and the soft skin of your legs. He let himself dream, just this once, and dive into a world in his mind where you were his. Where touches like these happened freely and more occurring.

But that’s exactly what it was. A dream. That’s all he would let it be. If you put both on a scale, his intensely deep love for you would be outweighed by his desperate need to keep you as his friend. Regardless of how Charles�� words echoed through his mind he couldn’t act on it. He knew that reality well.

‘Chérie, I need you to open the door now,’ He readjusted his hold on you and leaned down a bit further so you could put your key card in. Your hair tickling his neck as you reached forward to open the door sent a shock wave through his system. Walking through the doorway he cleared his throat as he sets you down.

The feeling of your hands sliding down his back as you let go made the hairs on his neck stand up. It always got harder to focus when you were near, even so when you made any physical contact. Pierre sets your heels down next to your suitcase as you suddenly start stripping out of your dress and into your pajamas, getting ready for bed.

If his face wasn’t bright red before it was now, as he whipped right around to give you some privacy and try to maintain his dignity.

‘Thank you so much for carrying me back,’ you call out to him as you slip your dress off.

‘O-Of course chérie,’ he fidgets in place as he keeps his back turned.

Still inebriated you giggle at his stutter, ‘You’re such a good friend,’ his heart aches at the word. ‘Can’t believe you took care of little drunk me instead of finding some girl and taking care of her,’ you giggled suggestively and slipped a t-shirt (that may or may not be Pierre’s) on over your head.

‘And leave my favorite girl all alone? Never,’ He was glad you couldn’t see him at the moment. His face would’ve betrayed him if his voice didn’t already, leave you by yourself? Choose another girl over you? The idea was so foreign to him.

‘I’ve tamed the playboy! Quick, call the press!’ You laugh as you fall backwards on your bed, now fully clothed. He turned around and chuckled with you. Pierre crossed over to your side of the bed and goes to tuck you in. Seeing you nestle into the covers only made him adore you more.

When you’re settled in, he places a long kiss to your hairline, pulling away and pushing the strands out of your face, ‘Sweet dreams amour,’ he whispered so quiet not even a mouse could hear.

‘I love you Pear, never change,’ you mutter into your pillow.

All he can do is smile as he turns the lights off and leaves your room. As soon as it’s closed his head hits the door, ‘I love you more than you could imagine.’

He says it like a prayer in the night, to himself, for his ears only, but he has to say it.

•••

The jet was due to take off anytime soon, as it sat on the runway waiting for it’s last passenger.

‘You’re late,’ Charles tsks as you sit down next to Pierre and lean your head against the wall.

‘Calm your tits, you’ll make it in time for the next race.’ You groaned, adjusting your giant black sunglasses to filter out more light.

‘Rough night?’ Pierre asks as he tips the bill of your cap upwards, exposing more of your face.

‘I don’t want to drink ever again,’ you shuffled to lay your back against his side and kicked your feet up to the edge of the bench.

‘Where have I heard that before,’ Charles comments, at that you pull one of your slides off and throw it at him with surprising accuracy. ‘Ouch, okay miss grumpy I’ll leave you alone.’

He sticks his tongue out at you now that you can’t see him. The trip was going to long with you like this if you didn’t get some coffee in you to sober up. You knew this, and the boys knew it even more than you since having to deal with your hangovers for years. 

So, adjusting your position against him you, Pierre holds your weight with one arm while holding his cup of coffee to your lips. ‘Here, have a sip.’ He angled the cup upwards and watched as you took a little more than a sip of his coffee.

‘Ugh, thanks Pierre. You’re always so sweet to me,’ you reach up and pat the side of his face before falling back into your comfortable position against him. ‘Unlike someone,’ you let your glasses fall down a little bit so Charles can see the look you send him.

‘Yeah well one of us isn’t in love with you,’ he muttered into his own coffee, not intending for anyone to hear.

‘You say something Cha?’ you piped up from your spot.

‘No he didn’t, he’s just being annoying because he can’t let anything be.’ Pierre wraps an arm around your resting frame and gives Charles a look that would definitely kill him if he and the Frenchman were in a more private space. 

•••

Free practice is in a day and Pierre is restless. He runs through the track in his mind, memorizing the corners he could overtake and making a play-by-play of the best way he can preform. He also has an itch that's been begging to be scratched in a while. Being hopelessly in love with your best friend makes it really hard to have any kind of love life.

If he finds a girl he likes, which is rare, its either only for a night or he constantly compares her to you in his mind, and no one deserves that. With that in mind, it means most of his romantic adventures last for a night before he can feel guilty about being with someone else, even if he isn’t with you. Or he spends the nights alone.

But he still does it. He goes out every night, finds a girl, and goes back to her place. Bringing her back to his hotel room where you are so close, his hotel room that you spend most of your time in, it felt vile and disgraceful. He always goes back to her place, trying to have a good night without thinking of you. Closing his eyes and trying to erase you from his thoughts. 

As he walked back in shame to his hotel room, he could hear your laughter echoing from your door. Some cruel twist of fate always puts your hotel rooms close together and it makes him feel worse. Pierre couldn’t take the sick feeling he got when he realized what he just did and he jumps into the shower immediately. Scrubbing and scrubbing to get the feeling off of him. Using the hottest water possible to burn the feeling off his skin.

Pierre wraps a towel around his waist once he’s out and he sees a new message from you. You were inviting him over to watch a movie together when he was done and he just couldn’t say no. He slips his pajamas on and goes next door to yours. 

He knows you’ll sit cuddled together on your bed while whatever movie you’ve picked plays on the tv. He knows you’ll end you falling asleep on his shoulder like you always do. He knows he’ll put the volume lower, so as to not wake you, and stay there with your death grip wrapped around him. He knows he’ll lay there dreaming of a life with you where it was like this every night. 

He really has it bad, doesn’t he?

•••

The three of you were walking to the garages, laughing and chatting on your way. You usually got distracted while on the way so Pierre’s hand was softly holding your elbow while he pulled you out of the way of trees, other people, trash cans, just about anything you would run into. 

This time, he hears someone progressively getting loader behind you. Out of curiosity Pierre turns around and sees someone running up but their head was turned. For whatever reason this person was in a rush they were positioned perfectly to barrel straight into you. With his super fast reflex his hands reached out to grab your waist and pull you into his chest, making sure you were safe.

‘Woah!’ you called out, surprised by the sudden movement shocked by the sudden proximity. Whoever it was that he saved you from blew past and yelled out a ‘Sorry!’. You’d all stopped walking and your hands were gripping the front of Pierre’s shirt. The way he was staring down at you and lightly laughing felt weird.

‘Alright, cherie?’ he pushed some hair out your face that was obstructing your view.

Were his eyes always this blue? Have you ever been this close to him before? Did he always smell like lemons and freshly washed linen? Were his hands always so warm on your skin? You could feel his fingertips on your hips and it made tingles shoot through you. You don’t remember his lips being that pink and soft looking. Actually, you don’t remember thinking about his lips before. You didn’t know why you were, still, thinking about his lips. Shaking yourself out of this daze, you cleared your throat and laughed. 

‘Yeah I’m, uh, alright. Thanks,’ You smoothed down your shirt and readjusted your shorts around your waist. When you look back up Pierre looks a little unconvinced but laughs it off as he keeps walking. As he passes you Charles fall right into view, and he look he’s giving you is smug. ‘What?’ you ask him. 

‘Nothing! Nothing at all,’ he shrugs and starts walking very slowly. ‘Someone got a little nervous for a second there.’ His shit-eating grin is wider than you’ve seen it before, and you’ve seen it a lot. 

‘No I didn’t!’ you were getting defensive now, which normally means you’re hiding something or afraid to admit you’re wrong. 

‘I dont know if I believe you,’ he says in a sing-song voice and you respond by shoving him. Now you’ve both stopped in your tracks and Charles was rubbing the side of his arm. ‘You’re the one who got lost in Pierre’s dreamy eyes in literal public.’

‘If you’re saying his eyes are dreamy I think we need to have another conversation, mate,’ Now you were just plain deflecting and you knew he could see right through it. 

‘Actually, if my ears don’t deceive me, you just called his eyes dreamy.’ If his grin got any wider you’d swore it would split his face in half. You turned forward and watched Pierre chat with someone who stopped him to say hi. While watching him you get lost in thoughts that felt brand new. 

Charles watched you watch Pierre and just raised his eyebrow and deadpanned. He could only shake his head and keep moving forward while pulling you behind him. Sometimes he felt like he was the only one with eyes in this friend group.

‘You guys coming or what?’ Pierre called from way ahead of you and waved his hand in a come here motion. You ran up to him and the second you got close enough he slotted you underneath his arm and kept chatting about as you two went over to the Alpine garage. Charles stood in his place and veered off to Ferrari as he watched you and Pierre from behind. You were slightly awkward now but trying to shake off whatever the weird feeling was plaguing you at the moment. Looks like Charles’ plan to get you two to admit your feelings for each other and get together didn’t need that much meddling from his part after all, fate was pushing you into his arms and oh, how Charles loved fate right now.

•••

You sat in hospitality while you waited for Pierre to finish his shower. You were scrolling on YouTube and found a video you wanted to watch, so you went to reach for your headphones when you realized they weren’t there. The only obvious place for you to have left them were in his room. Maybe you could just sneak in and grab them, and sneak out unnoticed. 

You creeped into his room and kept your head down. He was humming quietly to himself and you found yourself smiling at it, before blinking and getting back to the mission. Hand wrapped around them you went to exit just as quietly but you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye. His frame seemed to glow from behind the shower curtain, why was there light in there anyway?

You stared at his wide shoulders and watched the muscles move as he washed his hair. You stood there mesmerized watching his back move as he kept showering. His waist tapered and got smaller as your eyes travelled down his back, but his frame stayed strong. Before your eyes started going further down you shut them quickly. 

This time you rushed out of the room quickly and you sat with your back against the wall. You’d seen his back before. Plenty of times really. You’d know him since you were kids, you’d gone to the beach and gone swimming with him before. You swore you knew what he looked like. But you’d never seen him like that before, it felt different. You didn’t know what to even think anymore. From earlier this morning to now, you were confused.

Why did a Formula 1 driver even need those muscles? Doesn't it like, make him heavier and affect the drag or something? Since when did he have them anyway, 'Hey!' His voce dragged you out of your head. 'I'm almost ready, you got all your stuff?'

'Yeah, all good!' you gave a thumbs up even though he couldn't see you. Your head fell into your hands and you almost laughed in your own embarrassment. Nearly a second later Pierre opened the door and you fell backwards onto his chest.

'Woah there,' he laughed and held your shoulders, he leaned forward just ever so closer to your face. 'You're all over the place today, huh?'

'Apparently.' You shot back onto your own two feet trying to shake the feeling of his chest on your back out of your head. The entire walk to the car you were silent, just listening to Pierre voice his concerns and ideas about qualifying and the race. Then in the car you stayed silent as music flowed through the speakers and filled the silence.

What was wrong with you today? Why was this happening to you? Why can't you stop thinking about him and how his body felt against yours? His hands felt so large on your shoulders and his chest so solid when you leaned against it. And what was that this morning? You'd hugged Pierre before so why did it feel so different now. You'd felt him before, but this felt like you'd felt him. Your mind was racing the entire night so you texted Charles to see if you guys could talk once you got back.

And talk you did.

•••

'Hmm, yes,' Charles rubbed his chin after you just told him everything about earlier. 'I think I know what the problem is.'

'Okay?' You were really starting to question him after he sat in silence for five minutes.

‘You like him.’ He stated like it was so simple. He sat there with his arms crossed and that stupid look on his face.

You stared mouth agape, what drugs was he on. You? Like Pierre? Your best friend? No, no way, 'I highly doubt that Cha. It's probably just, pent up energy.'

'Then relieve it, maybe that'll being some clarity to the situation.'

'No! What are you on about? Mon dieu, Charles you're losing your mind.'

'If you knew what was actually wrong with you, why'd you come to me then?' Charles asked with his arms crossed.

'I think I just need to clear my head.' You got up and walked out, 'Thanks Cha, really.'

'You're welcome,' he mutters as you walk away. Why is he always being put in this position where he's stuck between two very stubborn people. 'Everybody asks Charles for help, but no one ever listens to Charles.' He slumps down and goes back to his book that was previously put down at your urgency.

•••

You'd been sat off the pools ledge, with your legs moving steadily. Why did things have to start changing? Why couldn't things stay the same? What were you supposed to do now?

It was getting late as you checked your watch so you decided to go back to your room. There were so many thoughts in your head you couldn't make a solid conclusion. You debated back and forth, to do or not to do. So there you stood, in front of the door, debating.

Before you get to decide, a familiar voice calls your name.

'Hi.'

fin

[msfantasy-anime]

Paybacks a Bitch

ExBoyfriend!Katsuki Bakugo x ExGirlfriend!Reader

Summary: Katsuki and Y/n have been dating throughout middle-school, Katsuki gives a brutal break-up on graduation day. The two meet again as adults

Warnings: Angst, break-up drama, regrets

Masterlist - Tip Jar

“So what if I didn’t get into UA?! That doesn’t mean we have to break-up!” Lip trembling, Katsuki pulls away from your grasp as teary blobs cascade down your red splotchy cheeks.

“You don’t get it. If that quirk-less loser Deku got in, then you should’ve too. You must be incredibly pathetic not to get in. I can’t have a girlfriend holding me back from my goals.” A sob escapes your lips as his ferocious words slam deep daggers into your heart.

“How can you say that?! We’ve been together for years and now-“

“And now I have finally opened my eyes to see you for who you truely were. A pathetic looser who’s holding me back. You’ve been an anchor in my life for long enough.” Overwhelmed with the Katsuki’s brutal words your tears turn off, you look blankly into his face. The face of the boy you had once gone, now scowling at you as if you were a nuisance. As if you were just some stranger causing irritation and ruining his day.

This wasn’t your Katsuki, this was a beastly teenage boy who had no love left for you. After all the time and effort spent in maintaining a relationship with this egotistical fool. But now that you think of it… why did you love Katsuki? Long ago were the days when he was kind, long were the days that he ensured your happiness came first. When was the last time he took you on a date? When did he last make you smile? When was the last time you smiled?

Sudden relief washes over you at the realisation that you were no longer bound to his mood-swings. His overbearing jealously that ruined your plans. His controlling nature dominating what you wore and who you talked to.

You can start a new, High School was just around the corner.

There was no need to waste your time any further.

There was no need to waste another breath explaining yourself.

You looked upon Katsuki’s emotionaless face, there was no need to waste another wasted moment with him.

———————————————————————————

“Y/n!” A voice calls, looking over your shoulder you see Midoriya holding a beer in one hand and waving ecstatically with the other.

“No fricking way! Your in charge of the tongs- I’ll be back.” You pass your friend the tongs to continue flipping the thin meat whilst you rush over to greet your old classmate.

“Izu! It’s good to see you!” You pull him into a bear hug which he gingerly returns.

“This is amazing! Look Kacchan- it’s Y/n!” You look to the person sitting across from Midoriya to see non-other than Katsuki Bakugo staring at you with his mouth open. You give a small wave from where you stood, knowing that he was never one for mushy greetings.

“Wow- I’d never thought that I’d see Suki drinking beer and eating barbecue with Izu.” Your signature grin spreading across your face. Midoriya pulls a chair out for you to sit.

“Since when did you call the nerd Izu?” Lips curl at the pathetic nickname given to his rival. His stomach turns seeing you look off the the side the way you did when you wanted to avoid a question. Irritation bubbles in his stomach as Midoriya changes the subject quickly.

“So what’s happening with you?!” His excitement was always infectious, it was a quality you had always admired.

“I had a lay-over in Japan, so I thought I’d catch up with some old friends, but I’m heading back to Australia for a bit. I have a new office opening in Sydney.” Midoriya hums excitedly grabbing your hand he gives it a light squeeze. Katsuki glares at your clenching palm.

“This is the 2nd agency you’ve opened right?! I’ve been following your accomplishments in the hero announcements!” Giggling, you shyly wave off Midoriyas’ kind words.

Katsuki hated this.

He hated how familiar you were both acting.

He hated how he didn’t know anything about you anymore and he hated that this damn nerd knew more about you.

He hated that you seem to be casting your full attention on the green grape across from him.

He hated how he was once your whole life and now is no longer privy to your life.

Katsuki had sworn that you were an anchor to his life. He discarded you thinking that you would hold him back, or drag him down.

Instead your travelling the world, building hero agencies and raking in millions in the process.

You achieved everything you’d hoped.

He achieved his goals- but at what cost?

You were Middle-Schoolers, you wouldn’t have lasted together anyway right?

“It was good to catch up with you both- but I can see my friends are needing help keeping up with the barbecue.” Katsuki gripped your wrist as you stood and blurted out a question that shocked your very ears.

“Do you ever miss me?” You shrug awkwardly, you churned words through your head to string together a kind sentence, but this is Katsuki, he appreciates bluntness.

“Romantically? I don’t. We were kids when we were together, I haven’t seen you since we were 15 years old. I honestly barely remember those times.” Your departure left Katsuki feeling cold.

You barely remember being with him? He remembered you vividly. He struggles to be with anyone else because of his stupidity, his ego ruined a good relationship.

That is a regret he’ll just have to live with.

[callsign-rogueone]

Ohh can we get director's cut for "together" please?:3

of course! I love talking about these three 🖤🌿⚔️

why I wrote this:

I’ve wanted to do something with a reader bandaging Xaden’s 107 cuts for a while now, but I’m still very awkward in writing for him bc in my mind that’s bestie Violet’s man and not ours 😅 so making it Garrick and Angel was a compromise — still a tender moment with baby shadow boy being taken care of and held, but not in a romantic sense. plus they’re supposed to be like… 17? at the time so I didn’t want to make it weird. idk.

some highlights / things I’m proud of / etc:

-> poor baby Xay asking for help cleaning the cuts… “I’d do it myself, but I can’t see them.” -> he wants to be the strong one and get through all of this alone but he can’t, both physically (he can’t reach the cuts or see them) and emotionally (he needs someone to be there for him and hold him and let him cry.)

-> he has to lay facedown because the cuts are on his back,, but also this adds vulnerability — he’s exposed, and not in a position of power, not in control or ready to attack, just… laying there, defeated. and angel finding a way to provide physical comfort, with him laying down on a pillow and her petting his hair just like a mama would… 🥺

-> the callback to his mom leaving wasn’t originally in there but it hit me at the last minute and I thought it added depth — in a situation like this, bb just needs his mom but she’s long gone by now. and so there’s a parallel I drew there between bb gare and angel comforting him this way at 10-11 when mom left, and now at 16-17. the only two times he cried in front of them, which is an indicator that both of those situations are a Big Deal, defcon three, all hands on deck.

“You don’t tell him it’s okay, because it isn’t, but you need to say something, to acknowledge his pain and the sacrifice he’d just made for you and all of your friends, for people neither of you have even met.”

-> in my mind this is 10000% angel. but again I left it vague on purpose. anyway, angel knows. she knows that it isn’t okay. it won’t be okay for a long time. so she isn’t going to tell him that it is, even if it’s well-intentioned, because that would dismiss the fact that he is very much in pain right now and this situation is super messed up and decidedly Not Okay. idk. pet peeve of mine showing.

“He takes Garrick’s hand in his, holding it silently, a gesture with multiple meanings; a bid for comfort, wanting to have his best friends close, but also a reminder that the three of you are in this together, and an apology…”

-> they can’t hug bc it would hurt bb boy but I still wanted them to touch somehow. no toxic masculinity here!! they’re holding hands and cuddling because I said so, and because these three are family now — they kinda always have been, but now they’re all each other has.

-> I headcanon the boys being very physical with one another, and I spread that throughout my work — they spar, arm wrestle… at some point in “what was I made for?” one of them has the other in a headlock giving a noogie… let them be idiots, your honor!!! they’re 23 year old boys!! let them wrassle, and have a safe outlet for their emotions!

“You’re all going to be sore when you wake up from sleeping like this, bar Xaden, who looks perfectly comfortable where he’s curled up between you like an overgrown puppy.”

-> these boys are all tall and muscle-y and big tough dragon riders, but they still need to be held sometimes. let them be the little spoon!! let them curl up and fall asleep on top of you!! sweet bbs need to be wrapped in a warm blanket and cuddled and spoon-fed ice cream and given head scratches after the shit they’ve been though. they just need love — that’s half the reason I made the girlfriends. and this situation absolutely necessitated a puppy pile on the couch.

-> I just love this trio. the friend group of all time. but these three all have that rare, long-lasting “we’ve known each other since we could talk” bond. they’re not friends, they’re family. sticking “this is a set, do not separate” labels on each of their foreheads as we speak.

-> in my little happily-ever-after AU I’m drafting, uncle Xaden is the kids favorite and they love him to death. it’s adorable. he’s actually all of the kids’ favorite, even though he’s outwardly “scary”. but that’s not what you asked for so I’ll stop talking

this was terrible to format on my phone but I can’t sit up to use the laptop rn so sorry. I might go back and fix it later when I have the spoons but that’s doubtful :/

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 3.4

Love that Lucy and Avery are forcing the "class discussion is relevant to plot" trope to happen. This is a bit of a stretch.

Like the contrast between Avery being like "the end goal of flirting is loving marriage and family home" and Verona being like "the end goal of flirting is sex"

“Three or four kids feels like a good number to me,” Avery said. 

Your standards for what an average number of kids to have is are off.

“Want to stay over?” Lucy asked. “Can’t, really. He said he’d call the police and report me missing if I did.”

VERONA'S HOME LIFE IS CONCERNING

“Thanks.  We now know that someone like Nicolette can swear to Guilherme to forget stuff.  Which means the Others we’ve been interviewing who say they don’t know stuff or that X detail is true… aren’t one hundred percent.  Maybe.”

Fuck. Didn't think of that. Adds a lot more complexity, brings back options I thought might be ruled out.

“I want to hug my trashy hobo child,”

big mood

“Good thing he was teaching about ecospheres and stuff today,” Avery said. “I think there’s a lot of other topics he could have brought up and they would have put my mind on the same track, since I’m thinking of this,” Lucy answered, a bit absently.

lol

yes, we were suspicious of Miss, but she hasn’t given us any blatant signs she was a baddie…

Same!

Huh. All this speculation about John and Yalda, and that the timing on them matches up with the Hungry Choir... We know that Yalda was a Black Dog, which can be a general term for several different types, and we know she was killed because her nature was spreading, and some people have called her a Sick Dog... are there such things as Famine Dogs?

(and then the literal next line is Lucy speculating Yalda could have been a famine dog. And I completely forgot the singing thing)

[happiestplacehq]

Hi everyone, just a quick update as to my sudden absence.

I will preface that everyone in my family is okay, no one is hurt and we’re all safe. But basically my house went on fire on Thursday. The shed caught fire, which spread to our old timber house. Thankfully the neighbouring houses did not also catch fire, and no one was in the house at the time of the fire so everyone is physically okay.

With extensive repairs, we’ll get back in eventually, but we’ve lost a large part of the roof/ attic, and the back corner of the house from the bottom up has extensive external damage and a decent amount of internal damage, and the rest of the house is water damaged (though the front rooms of the house have gotten away relatively unscathed, as well as the kitchen and living room). I have relayed this in the Discord chat already but obviously haven’t had a minute to get into my laptop to let everyone else know until now.

I don’t know what my living situation is going to be like for the foreseeable future, so please bear with me. I’m currently at my sister’s boyfriend’s house, but the insurance have given us rooms at a not-so-nice hotel for the week and are looking for something better for the week after. After that, who knows.

It hasn’t been an easy time for me since December, as you all know, and this is obviously just the icing on the cake, but please keep doing what you’re doing! Keep up your threads, your plots, your tasks! You’ve all been wonderful friends, and even catching a glimpse at the dash and replies brightens my day.

Once I’m decently settled somewhere, I still fully intend for the event in May to go ahead, it may just be pushed to the middle of the month instead. If anyone wants a meme weekend in the meantime (Naomi, yes, I know you do) then do let me know because I have a ton of fun memes saved.

Again, thank you all for patience the past few months, and thank you for the patience in the future too. This group really means a lot to me.

Stay safe, hug a loved one.

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss S1 E4: D.I.A.B.L.O.

Oh, hello. Docile here, welcome back to Heaven! I know things were a bit wild and confusing last time. Let me try and explain a bit.

Apparently the first Heaven’s blessing company C.H.E.R.U.B. had been under the guidance of one of my previous bosses, Kiva. I don’t know why anyone would approve of her, other than she’s famous for her singing in both Heavens. Instead of spreading faith and love, she wanted more fame and a chance to create her own world on Earth. She briefly used the cherubs’ powers to revive certain people on Earth and kill off others deemed “unworthy” in God’s eyes. There is a good reason why no one should bring back the dead. Even C.H.E.R.U.B. and my company E.L.F. know that would only cause overpopulation, war, and an alteration of history. It broke my heart when we had to reverse the damage Kiva had done. In the process, we freed C.H.E.R.U.B. from Kiva’s influence, Tirred from her influence and sent the dead back to the other side. We also had to erase the memories of the event from the mortals for obvious reasons. Thankfully, Deerie just straight up banished Kiva and her group…I heard they got arrested on Earth, but I have a feeling they may come back.

Tirred’s been experiencing a few struggles with getting over the event. He had given into his desire for more status and like many angels in Heaven, he tends to see demons as “lesser than.” He’s being monitored under supervision for a bit just in case, but I think he can fix up his attitude…mostly.

Recently, I got an update on how C.H.E.R.U.B. is doing. They had failed to save the life of a greedy inventor and were banished to Earth. I have a bad feeling that they’ll get corrupted in Hell and return for revenge against their I.M.P. rivals. I’m all for keeping I.M.P. in line to try and stop their horrible mass murders, but fighting fire with fire usually doesn’t end well. Although I think that indigo sheep, Collin, has the purest heart of the three.

So far, we’ve been doing business in Heaven as usual: record keeping on human life, plus spreading God’s words of good faith (and trying to leave out the bad messages of “ditch your loser friends who you can’t use.”) There’s a difference between leading cooperatively and leading selfishly. True leadership requires lifting others up as well as yourself. I guess our Heavenly Father doesn’t trust anyone else due to Lucifer trying to take His throne all those centuries ago. Paperwork is always tedious but it must be done. I know our business tithers between legal and illegal, but we’ll deal with any consequences that may arise. My job is my passion, and my employees are like my family.

Right now, my team and I are discussing some ways to meet and collaborate with C.H.E.R.U.B. I think they need some guidance on properly interacting with humans. Plus, I think Sunna and I are tempted to give those cute cherubs some hugs. Truthfully, I hope we can get to them before they “sink further down,” if you catch my drift. Ideally, C.H.E.R.U.B. could stay on Earth and continue protecting humanity. Or we could provide them with sanctuary in our Heaven. The first option seems more likely due to both Deerie’s rules and interdimensional complications. It’s very rare for an individual to travel to the parallel universes…and Earth is in the middle of all the Heavens and Hells!

But hey, surely it’s worth a try, right?

Sunna was peacefully sleeping on one of the chairs around the smooth table at E.L.F. headquarters. The elves were seated in their spots with Docile at the head of the table.

“Alright guys,” he said. “This is a very important mission. With Lord Gabriel’s help, I’ve pinpointed C.H.E.R.U.B.’s location to be in a forest near a lake, not too far from that inventor’s old mansion.” He pointed to certain spots on a holographic map in front of them. “It appears they briefly stayed in a church for sanctuary last December and are now trying to stay low. Gabriel said they had been helping other humans in secret but haven’t gotten rid of their desires for acknowledgement, praise, and material gains.” 

“Hold up,” said Tirred with his usual yawn. “I thought that C.H.E.R.U.B. never asks for any fees.”

“That is true, but I’m talking about what they seek. The three cherubs were raised in a culture that values perfection, reward, and the pursuit of happiness…”

Tirred coughed, “Americans,” which earned him a glare from his boss.

Docile continued, “Even Heaven’s citizens have flaws of their own. Selfishness exists in everyone, no matter how altruistic they try to be. C.H.E.R.U.B. knows that if they spread love, they can also feel good about themselves. But they always expect something in return for their work. Money, praise, God’s grace, whatever it is. The point is, they never help others just for the sake of doing so.”

“That actually makes sense,” Timmid added, brushing back her short white hair. “I wonder if they were so quick to collaborate with us because they just wanted us to promote their company.”

“Which is what we’re randomly doing instead of, you know…worrying about ourselves in our reality!" Tirred added, waving his hands for emphasis. “We shouldn’t have to care about some other cheesy company.”

Sunna happily mumbled “cheese” in her sleep.

“You have a good point Tirred, but this is different,” Docile elaborated. “C.H.E.R.U.B. may be from another realm, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to help them out. Remember that we help humans and angels alike when we can.”

“We can’t help everybody,” Tirred said. “Especially those humans and demons who…”

“We’re not talking about them,” Docile added, holding up a hand. “There’s no need to be a downer when I’m trying to spread light onto a dire situation here, okay?”

Tirred crossed his arms. “I’m helping you see the reality of things. The other angelic orders won’t approve of this. Especially since traveling to the parallel realms is forbidden!”

“And the reality is that we will continue on with this mission because it’s the right thing to do,” Docile argued, standing his ground. “It is our job to help those in need, no matter how bizarre the situation may be. So for your sake, I suggest you keep yourself in line.”

Tirred grumbled and backed away slightly. Docile sighed and straightened up.

“Plus, we aren’t traveling to the other Heaven. We’re going to Earth. That’s where C.H.E.R.U.B. is.” He glanced over at the large leather-bound Bible that allowed them to travel to Earth. He didn’t know how much longer Azrael and Samuel would allow him to keep it, but hopefully a bit longer. 

“Won’t we need disguises again?” Timmid asked. “Or Sunna?”

“I think we’ll be alright with going in our true forms,” said Docile. “But remember to lay low and stick together. After all, C.H.E.R.U.B. will be in their regular forms…might as well meet angel to angel.”

“Okay,” said Timmid.

There was a knock on the door, which startled Sunna awake. “Guys, do you hear that?”

“That was the door,” called Timmid.

Sunna walked over and opened it. “Hello,” she said as two men entered. One was short and fat, the other was tall and thin.

“Are those…supervillains?” asked Timmid.

“More like superheroes!” called the thin man. He had an elegant white mustache and white-gray skin. He wore a white top hat with a purple brim and old-time glasses with purple lens. His suit was white with a large purple cross in the center, the arrow pointing up. His boots were purple, and his cape was light blue.

The squat man beside him wore a white suit with thin blue lines on it with a beige collar. He wore a white bowler hat with a blue trim and white rimmed glasses with teal lens. His mustache was black, and his skin was white-gray. Both men had halos and white wings.

“I’m Straight Nate!” greeted the thin man. “Craftsman of all things straight and narrow! This is my partner, Kyle Kipton!”

“Nice to meet you both!” Docile said, shaking their hands. “How’d you get into Heaven?”

Nate explained. “I wasn’t always a young man. Kyle and I ran Kyle-Nate Tools, a local shop for farmers. Earlier today, we were giving food, eggs, and farming equipment to the poor. We could’ve saved so many. We both got involved in our job and felt so much younger than before. It was marvelous! Turns out that Lyle Lipton’s anti-aging machine in his factory was sending out rays that made us younger and younger by the day. Our customers soon grew suspicious when we suddenly appeared as children. Both of us were almost handed over to the police. We raced toward Lyle’s place, hoping to get back to our normal ages. But before we could reach him, the mob had cornered us with torches and pitchforks. We refused to give them what they wanted and they…killed me. It was a miracle that Lyle’s machine secrets didn’t get out. Everyone believed the mobsters to be crazy. Thanks to some angel magic, no one else sought to be young again.”

“I died shortly after Nate,” said Kyle. “Almost thought about taking my life, but Covid 19 did that for me.”

“Sorry,” said Sunna.

“Brother bucking Covid ruins everything!” Docile spat.

“Wait,” Tirred asked. “If you turned into children, why do you look so…”

“Wise?” Kyle finished with a shrug. “Who knows? Age doesn’t matter for saints up here. We stay the same age as when we died on Earth like the sinners do in Hell.”

“Well, that story was a load of rubbish,” Tirred scoffed.

“Don’t be rude,” Sunna chided.

“It’s alright,” Nate said. “Kyle and I are trying to figure out what do to next now that we’re in Heaven. I wonder if there are any farms around that could use our help.”

“I’ve never heard of farms in the sky before,” Kyle said.

“Well Heaven has a whole society like Hell does, so schools, farms, houses, pretty much anything from all time periods exist here,” said Docile.

“Have you heard of the Canadians?” asked Sunna. “They are anti-cannibals, against eating meat in all forms. A bunch of French-speaking vegetarian cultured folk. A bit eccentric. They make the best maple syrup and host the best air hockey games. You know, literally in the air…”

Nate rolled his eyes. “People are so quick to judge these days.”

On a nearby television screen, a commercial showed a dark teal skinned elf wearing a black outfit and a black hat, twirling a cane. “Are you looking for work to make solemn stories and formal films? Well call me at Sully Sirius’ Serious Idea Studios, where you can create art and get rich! The one who makes the best creation will receive two free tickets for Woo-Hoo Land! But still…I have standards for heaven’s sake!” A brief clip showed Sully selling holy water bottles at the theme park.

“Wierdo,” muttered Kyle.

“Well, I wish you two the best of luck up here,” said Docile. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anytime,” said Nate. Nate and Kyle waved goodbye before exiting out the door.

Docile turned to a winged cherub deer.

“You think we’ll succeed in our mission?”

“Yeah, oh yes, yes, yes!” Doe-Doe trilled genuinely, typing notes on an iPad while wearing yellow overalls. “Go beyond the rules and you do you! Yeah!”

0 0 0

Docile, Tirred and Timmid stood outside in front of their headquarters building, the heavenly sky shining down above them. The white building and the golden wing designs attached to it shone brightly in the light. Tirred briefly glanced enviously beyond a wrought iron golden gate toward the direction of the silver Holy City surrounded by glowing halos. Timmid took a deep breath and flipped through the Bible until coming across a passage to create a portal to Earth. After she chanted and drew a teal blue sigil with chalk, a gap opened. A fearful Timmid led the way through, while Docile and Tirred followed.

The trio arrived at the vast meadow surrounded by forest trees and the shining lake. The sun shone brightly in the sky while a few white clouds dotted the horizon. Several birds chirped on nearby hanging branches, while brown squirrels and rabbits hopped along the grassy plain.

Docile sniffed the air deeply and sighed. “Nature truly is a wonderful thing. There’s something so genuine about Earth that makes it so…vast and beautiful.”

Tirred rolled his eyes. “Heaven will always be the superior place. It has marvelous light, gold, angels and the Almighty of course.”

“But the living world is unique in its own way. It’s the birthplace of all the saints and sinners. They make up the majority of the afterlife. Without this place, Heaven and Hell alike wouldn’t function the way they do now. No technology, no flare, no diversity. Our current worlds today are what some mortals call a ‘melting pot.’ Different ingredients tossed together into one societal dish.”

“Blast, boss! Enough with your metaphorical mumbo-jumbo,” Tirred sighed, briefly tugging his pointed ears in frustration. “Do you even realize what could happen if we meet with other beings too long? Reality itself…”

He imitated an explosion.

Timmid laughed a bit. “Who’s spewing mumbo-jumbo now?” She playfully elbowed Tirred. “Relax, Tir. Docile knows what he’s doing. It’s risky but it’s for the greater good.”

“Greater good, my ass,” he muttered.

“If you wanna get your good ass kicked, then be my guest,” Timmid wiggled her eyebrows playfully as Tirred turned red in the face.

Docile summoned his golden staff and slowly moved it in the air in front of him. The staff tip briefly glowed when he aimed it at a lower part of the hill. He spotted something small and white flying in the same direction. Docile mentioned for his coworkers to follow. They headed down the hill until they arrived at a white park bench. There were some passersby walking their dogs or chatting on their cell phones. Several women pushed strollers around, while a child tossed breadcrumbs for the ducks. The paths were lined with streetlamps and red rose bushes.

Just then, Docile spotted a flying boy and two-winged sheep sitting close together on a bench. No one seemed to pay them any mind.

“Bingo!” Docile grinned.

The periwinkle sheep Collin sat and examined the park. The yellow sheep Keenie straightened up her yellow dress and red bow. The light pink-haired Cletus sat in the middle in his reddish overalls, looking bored. Several white feathers fell off their wings and their halos flickered.

“I don’t understand,” Cletus said dejectedly. “We’ve done all we can to make amends. We’ve saved people, gave them advice, and lived among the humans. Why can’t we go back?”

Collin sniffed as tears started to trickle down his face. “Why can’t Deerie let us back? We were doing so well in Heaven. Our clients and the humans were always grateful for the work we did.”

Keenie stamped one of her hooves. “It’s so not fair! Deerie didn’t even give us a chance. She just sent us here to suffer and rubbed it in our faces!”

“If only that filthy imp leader didn’t blind me during the battle,” Cletus scowled. “Killing Lyle was just an accident. I was this close to eliminating them on the spot!”

“Killing is a bad thing,” Collin mentioned, straightening up. “Our job is never to kill, but to save and spread love!”

“Like I said before Collin, you still joined us in shooting at our rivals,” said Cletus. “Eliminating the threat is sometimes necessary.”

“We also have Exorcists for a reason,” Keenie added. “To eliminate all those shitty sinners and keep both Earth and Heaven safe from them. Those Hell table scraps are just as bad as them, if not worse!”

“W-w-whatever happened to ‘thou shalt not kill?’ ’Love thy neighbor?’” Collin asked, flying up and staring hard at his companions.

The cherubs hovered in the air.

“Those demons aren’t our neighbors,” Cletus told Collin.

“I know that, but still, we could’ve at least taken the fight outside the opera theater! Oh, and maybe saved that singer, too.”

“When the imps were in the way, right there?” Keenie asked. “We had to watch over Lyle, too.”

“We had to save his life at any cost,” Cletus said, leaning in.

“B-b-but we didn’t, didn’t we?” Collin finished. “We all played a part in our fate and now in a few days, we’ll be down below facing our worst nightmares!”

Collin broke down into hysterical sobs, as Keenie wrapped him in a hug. “Oh Collin…”

The cherubs flew off toward the open meadow, leaving the park behind and looking around.

Just then, E.L.F. made their entrance in front of them, floating down gracefully on white wings in their own beams of sparkly light. Docile was in the center, Tirred to his right, Timmid to his left. Spiked white halos hung over their heads. C.H.E.R.U.B. stared quizzically at them.

Keenie glared. “Go away, demons! We’re tired of seeing you in your silly costumes!”

“You here to m-m-mock us some more?” Collin asked in anger.

“We come in peace…” Docile began but didn’t finish. Cletus let out a combination of mournful cries and yells to the sky, causing the nearby humans to glare at them and scatter away.

“You won’t get away with this, I.M.P.! You’ll pay for what you did to us and the humans you slaughtered!”

Cletus finished his cries when a sudden force knocked everyone backwards. They straightened themselves up in the air. The ground broke apart and a column of red, orange, and yellow flames shot up from the opening.

E.L.F. and C.H.E.R.U.B. looked in wide-eyed terror at three small shadowy figures hovering forward through the flames. Three shadows with glowing yellow eyes.

“You seek revenge and are thirsty for blood?” came a low choir of voices.

The flames vanished, revealing a demonic trio. A pointed tail, sharp yellow teeth, a clawed hand holding a black Satanic book...

“We can help satiate your desires…”

The leader appeared, looking like a twisted version of Cletus. He had teal fluffy hair and pale white skin, his teeth sharp and yellow. His eyes were large and yellow with white sclera. He was chubby like Cletus but instead of angelic wings, he had small black bat wings with long red veins within the flaps. He wore a dark blue undershirt, a black shirt collar and teal-colored overalls, plus brown boots. Two reddish orange horns curved down to meet his chin. He put away his black Satanic book.

The corrupted Collin counterpart took the appearance of a bulky anthropomorphic yellow ram. His furry hooves were tan colored with sickly yellowish tips. He wore a wine-colored red suit with a black bow tie under his thick neck. His undershirt was orange with an upside down black cross in the center. Sheathed under a black belt was a gun, a dagger, and a few other weapons. His teeth, eyes and face were all a dull yellow, although a few black dots rested under his left eye. Ogre-like ears stuck out around his head of thick black wool. Protruding in curves from his head were two thick, crimson-colored ram horns with little lines running down the surface. Little black wings held him in the air.

The last diablo was a blue anthropomorphic ram and Keenie’s dark counterpart. Her hooves were purple with dark green tips. Her dress was dark blue with a green bow around it. Her dress moved from blue to various shades of green and teal, becoming lighter at the ends. The hem of her dress was torn and gave the appearance of blue flames as part of the design. Black gloves covered her hands like an executioner’s. She grinned with yellow sharp teeth against a dark blue face. Her eyes had dark orange pupils, teal irises and white sclera. Her wild hair was a lighter shade of blue, moving like flames in the wind. Like her companions, she had black bat wings and curved red-orange ram horns. All the diablos could also grow pointed tails and retract them.

The leader sneered. “Surely you’ve heard of us. You saw our commercial, didn’t you?”

“What commercial?” Docile asked.

0 0 0

A large Leviathan monster opened its mouth wide, revealing sharp teeth, a long slimy tongue, and a dark throat. The camera zoomed into the darkness before a red light appeared at the end of the tunnel. A bleak world with a red sky was revealed. A futuristic city in the distance was tall, black, and metal: Sin City. The ground was black as was the grass. There was a pandemonium capital building not too far away along with a variety of shops set in a dystopian world: Tiamat’s Treasure Things, Kali’s Corner, Xenomorph Labs. Sinner human slaves slouched around held together by chains in the background.

No Hazbin Hotel or I.M.P headquarters to be found. Only a dark world ruled by the traditional evil seven princes.

A sign read “Diablo Den” and pointed down. The camera moved to show an underground tunnel with torches on either side. An entire subculture of demons lived down within the sewers and damp tunnels. Metal waterproof houses were situated under fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The leader popped up on the screen.

“Salutations! I’m Erebos! Welcome to Hell! (Not the Hazbin one.) Guess you must have done something evil to get here, and evil people deserve to give enemies special cruses!”

The jingle began, with organs playing.

“Does it make you want to yell?” asked Devvin, the yellow ram as a man was shown getting a promotion over a man dressed in rags.

“When an enemy ends up well?” asked Dammna the blue ram female as a rapist was pardoned from his crime.

“Do you frown from ear to ear?” sang Erebos as a man shot at several anti-LGBTQ protestors.

“When your rivals don’t shed a tear?” they all sang as a bully in a baseball cap laughed as a kid cowered in a corner.

“Locked up in a rut?” sang Devvin with a pose.

“A foe seeking your gut?” Dammna sang and posed.

“We can make them cold and dead!” sang Erebos.

“Even give you their head!” They all did villain poses.

“Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as“DIABLO” appeared in bloody letters surrounded by pitchforks and the trademark icon.

“We’re the masters of destruction from down below!” sang Devvin as Cletus shot fireballs at a barbed wire fence, allowing prisoners of war to escape. Devvin led the way as Dammna waved a flag with a pentagram and “B.U.R.E.H.C” on it.

“Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as the logo appeared again.

“Just name your price and we’re good to go!” sang Dammna as Erebos gave a greedy grin at a human handing him a bag of gold.

“Spreading sickness, chaos and hate!” Devvin sang as he and Dammna gave each other a high five with their hooves.

“History altered and fate!” sang Dammna as atomic bombs went off in reverse as clocks ran backwards and forwards.

“We do the dirty work for you!” sang Cletus asDevvin concocted a deadly virus and dropped it on coughing humans.

“And stirring up world wars, too!” added Devvin as Dammna whispered something in a soldier’s ear, resulting in two armies fighting on the field.

“So sit right back…” sang Erebos before they all sang in discord, “…and let us curse a soul for you!”

“Oh, we are the D.I.A.B.L.O.!”

“How the primal chaos shall flow!”

0 0 0

C.H.E.R.U.B. and E.L.F. just stood there, stunned.

Just then, Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie entered through a portal onto the grass. Moxxie was trying not to fall, while Millie safely put away Stolas’ grimoire in a small black backpack. The red-faced imps wore their usual navy work outfits.

“Alright gang,” called Blitzo. “Apparently someone wants us to kill that ginger-ass tour guide we saw last time. Looks like he’s at Lyle’s old house jacking off and snatching Lyle’s old possessions.”

Millie tried not to throw up. “This world is even crazier than ours!” Then she pulled out a dark sword and brightened. “Let’s keep on killin’ then!”

“Sir, please don’t tell Lyle any of this,” Moxxie pleaded. “You know he’ll get mad if we fail this mission.”

“Oh I already sent him a text,” Blitzo grinned, holding up his phone. The text read “Off 2 kill tour intruder. Might want 2 sell ur stuff.” Moxxie face-palmed.

“I’m already tired and we haven’t even made it there yet,” Moxxie complained.

“Come on Mox, get your sweet imp ass moving,” Blitzo said. “We’ll be at his house before you can say…”

The three imps came to the clearing and froze in their tracks.

“Holy shit,” Blitzo breathed.

At that very moment, all twelve creatures, divided in their four separate groups locked eyes with each other, some on the ground, and some in the air. The sky darkened to an abnormal shade of indigo; the ground suddenly warm to the touch. The air itself shifted from stale, to hot, to cold and back again. A strange energy crackled through the air, like any moment the earth would collapse underneath them. A stag with bloodstained antlers reared up his hind legs and raced across the forest as lightning flashed in the sky.

From inside the mansion, the tour guide and several people gazed out the window in awe through a telescope. The smiling man had the ginger bang over his eyes and wore a green suit and cap with dollar signs on it. He spoke too casually to the group as they took pictures on their phones.

“And now you’ll spot several groups of tacky super-powered cosplayers about to begin an apocalyptic battle! The feuds between famous people and ordinary folk is a sight to behold!”

0 0 0

“Who. The Fuck. Are They?!” Blitzo cried out, his voice echoing.

“Oh no!” groaned Moxxie, pointing ahead. “Those are the…”

“Imps!” Collin cried out, all three cherubs glaring at their rivals.

“Cherubs!” Moxxie finished.

“Diablos?!” Tirred asked.

“Elves!” sneered Devvin.

The intense stare-downs could have turned the universe upside down…which for a few moments, it did.

After several minutes of grueling silence, the first one to speak again was none other than Blitzo.

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?!”

Cletus crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you what’s going on! Because of you three monsters,” he pointed at the imps, “We’ve been banished to Earth and are this close to meeting our doom down in your filthy world!”

Blitzo just grinned smugly. “Welcome to Hell, baby. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

Cletus turned red in anger. “Shut up! We may have been banished from Heaven all thanks to you, but there is no way we’re going to end up like you!”

Erebos grinned and moved slowly toward the cherubs. “You sure about that?”

He spoke in a bone-chilling whisper that made even Cletus forget his wrath for a moment. “It’s clear that you’ll never be allowed to return to Heaven. Why wish for something you can’t obtain anymore? The only thing you can do now…” he mentioned in the direction of the imps, “…is take back what you’ve lost.”

Cletus glared at him. “I don’t need filthy demons to tell me what to do!”

“Of course you don’t,” Erebos mentioned. “Your company was just trying to do the right thing. Why should you let those monsters stand in your way again?”

“Perhaps some human agents could help you out in the future,” whispered Dammna to the cherubs.

“Stop this!” called Docile. He flew gracefully in Cletus’ direction. “Don’t listen to that demon.”

“You’re one too!” Cletus seethed, flinching back.

“No, I’m an angel just like you,” Docile said, displaying his white wings. “That devil is trying to divert you away from your true path. Your company may have been banished, but you can still redeem yourselves and prove the other angels wrong! You’re already great at spreading positivity to those in need!”

“Ha!” Millie called. “Just like how you cherubs failed to save the life of that old man.”

“It was an accident, you emo slutty freak!” Keenie spat.

“The past is then,” Docile continued to Cletus. “This is now. You still have time to prove your innocence. I believe there is goodness in almost everyone.”

Collin flew up to the elf with wide shining eyes. “Y-y-you do?”

Docile wrapped an arm around Collin. “I know it. It’s there, even when all hope seems lost.”

Erebos snickered to Cletus. “You really gonna believe an inverted version of an imp and his subservient goblin fuck toys?”

The cherubs and elves gasped.

“That is so inappropriate!” Timmid called.

“Kiss your ass, sissy,” Dammna taunted as Timmid flinched away.

“Might wanna watch your words, blue bitch,” Millie growled to Dammna. “Just because we’re fellow demons, doesn’t mean I’ll let you pick on others like that.”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Dammna asked with a sneer. “Sing a murder jingle?”

“My coworkers and I did, actually!” Blitzo bragged.

“I thought your song was very catchy!” Devvin praised.

“Thank you!” beamed Millie. “Now get lost, wannabes! We’re on a murder mission!”

But D.I.A.B.L.O. was far from done. Erebos spoke to Cletus. “Anyway…that deer cherub who kicked you out…she knew that you would fall. God doesn’t tolerate mistakes…thus those in Heaven now see you as just that, mistakes. How does it make you feel?”

“Shut it, demon crap!” Keenie shrilled. She flew toward Erebos but Devvin held her back. She freed herself from his grip. Dammna flew beside Collin, who whimpered as she licked her lips.

“Face it…the other cherubs wanted you three kicked out. Because you founded an illegal company that prided itself on saving human lives. You were getting famous for…not following the rules. Jealousy arose. Heaven knew that if you saved a whole bunch of humans, they would soon get suspicious in Heaven at all their previous sinner family members getting slaughtered every year.”

“How do you know all this?” Cletus asked.

“We have our ways,” said Erebos. “Angels and demons going to Earth is mostly illegal…you know, changing of history, trauma and all.”

He flew into Cletus’ face and the Cletus flinched back in disgust. Erebos made his way around Collin and Keenie as he talked. “You could’ve been good passive little sheep and stayed in Heaven. But you didn’t.” He ran a hand through Collin’s white wooly hair. “Because you wanted something more. Paradise wasn’t enough for you.”

He grinned sinisterly at Keenie. “You were tired of being looked down upon by the more favorable members of your kind. Always searching for a way so that your…”

He peered underneath her yellow dress, “…divine talents could be brought to light.”

Keenie gave him a hard kick to the face, sending him back a bit. He scoffed in pain and rubbed his eye before straightening up and heading back toward Cletus. “And for a while, they did. But look where you are now. Fallen. Forgotten. Forced away from your home.”

“He’s using you guys!” Tirred warned Cletus. “You can still protect humanity and earn God’s grace once again!”

“No matter what you try to do, you’ll never be able to return. Becoming demons is your destiny!” Devvin said with a dark chuckle. “If not in Hell, then on Earth!”

“Listen to the elf angels,” Collin pleaded to his boss. “The demons are full of sin, but you know we can choose to not stoop down to their level. We can be better cherubs, improve our relations with humans.”

“Right after we get rid of all those stinking demons!” Keenie scoffed, hands on her hips. “If we want C.H.E.R.U.B. to survive…”

“Then I.M.P. must pay, right?” Dammna asked, finishing her sentence. Keenie found herself nodding, mouth agape.

“Hey, we can hear you!” Moxxie yelled, drawing out his gun. He shot it upwards, but the bullet was blocked by Tirred’s golden staff. The bullet rebounded away. Moxxie stared at Tirred in disgust. “Man, you’re hard to look at.” Tirred just observed him coldly.

“Forget about I.M.P.!” Timmid called to the cherubs. “Focus on redeeming yourselves. It’s the only way you can return home.”

“Help other people for its own sake,” Docile advised. “You don’t need praise or rewards to keep doing the right thing.”

“He’s right, Cletus,” Collin added. “Help humans move away from sin…and we will as well.” 

“Ha!” barked Dammna. “Sin and flaws are present in everyone, even in little angels. It’s as natural as sex, eating, drinking, and breathing. No one can resist the natural temptations…”

Blitzo grinned. “I’d like to see you try and take us out,” he told Cletus. “Afraid we’ll make you a laughingstock again?” Cletus fumed.

“I hope the Exorcists erase you from existence!” Keenie shrilled.

Devvin appeared beside Keenie. “Why call on them, when you can plan your revenge yourself?”

“Not gonna happen!” she yelled. Just after she said that, her halo flickered again. A small crack appeared on Cletus’ halo. Bits of feathers drifted from Colin’s wings.

“This is not good,” Timmid whispered.

Erebos grinned. “Only a matter of time now, cherubs! It’s time to begin your journey toward justice!”

Back and forth, overlapping words, advice, taunts, and threats pounded against Cletus. He felt like his head was being crushed by two opposing hands. Cletus grimaced, looking back and forth and around. He squinted and closed his eyes, curling into a ball.

“The accident wasn’t your fault, boss!”

“Help bring back C.H.E.R.U.B. to its former glory!”

“You’re nothing but a crying baby and a failure. No wonder Heaven doesn’t want you guys.”

“Thy company come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven…”

“Your demonic destiny is here!”

“Give into sin!”

“Spread the love for here and above!”

“ENOUGH!”

Cletus spread out his arms and legs. The force sent many of the individuals back, but they quickly recovered. Lightning flashed in the sky as the battle began.

 Although Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie couldn’t fly like everyone else, they made up for it by their array of weapons. Blitzo fired his tan flintlock pistol, the bullets rising in the air. One bullet hit Dammna’s hoof, and she hissed in pain. Another grazed Timmid’s shoulder and she cried out.

Docile waved his hand and three golden crossbows appeared in the cherubs’ hands.

“It’s temporary,” he warned.

Wasting no time, Collin, Keenie and Cletus fired sparkly golden arrows from their weapons at the two demonic groups. Cletus and Blitzo fired rounds at each other, both of them expertly dodging the other’s attacks. Erebos laughed as Docile landed punches at him, which he kept blocking.

“Just as planned,” he grinned. “What a joy it is to see C.H.E.R.U.B. and I.M.P. duke it out.” The cherubs’ faces grew more vicious as they chased after the imps.

“Stop fighting, C.H.E.R.U.B.!” Timmid called in concern, but her words fell on ignorant ears.

Erebos landed a punch to Docile’s face, and he quickly retaliated via a well-aimed uppercut. “You won’t get away with this,” Docile spat. “I don’t want to fight any of you guys, but it appears I have no choice.”

Timmid screamed as Devvin suddenly caught her in a headlock.

“Ha! Surrender or she’s a goner!” called Devvin. Timmid struggled in vain against his grip. Docile glared as he aimed his staff at him, debating what to do next.

Zing!

An arrow from Collin’s crossbow hit Devvin in the side, sending him screaming and flying off in the distance. He flew back in anger, but Timmid had already recovered. The cherubs’ golden crossbows vanished; the group now defenseless. Moxxie, Dammna, and Millie seized the opportunity to charge in, surrounding the cherubs. Timmid, Docile and Tirred blocked the path of the demons, holding them off with their golden staffs.

“I can’t hold them much longer,” groaned a strained Tirred to the cherubs. “Flee while you still can!”

“We’re not leaving you behind,” Collin said, determined.

Cletus tried to flee, but Dammna grabbed hold of him and tossed him right back with a chuckle.

Erebos arrived and smacked Tirred’s golden staff from his hands…he punched at the diablo’s chest in response. Docile landed several kicks to Moxxie, sending him stumbling to the ground.

“Moxxie!” Millie cried.

“I’m okay!”

Millie took out a black dagger and tossed it toward Timmid. She caught it and tossed it away. Cletus continued to dodge the bullets from Moxxie and Blitzo’s weapons. Keenie charged at full speed toward Millie’s head from behind her. She was just about to land a hard blow when…

A large hand grabbed her by the hair…Erebos and tossed her hard toward the ground.

Crash!

“Y-y-you monster!” Collin cried.

Keenie growled as she stood up on shaking legs, wiping the dirt from her dress. With a swoop, she lifted herself up in the air before Blitzo could shoot at her. She finally rejoined Collin and Cletus…but the E.L.F. members were almost drained from the battle. The cherubs and elves stood battered and back-to-back against the surrounding demons.

Lightning flashed as several pairs of the angelic and demonic warriors went head to head. Millie was slashing her sword from underneath Timmid and Keenie, who were punching Dammna and pulling her long blue hair. Keenie slapped Dammna across the face while Timmid yelped as she dodged Millie’s weapon from below. Timmid summoned an angelic harpoon and clashed with Millie. They moved in a dance, metal against metal. The point of the harpoon barely missed Millie’s head. Millie leaped onto the harpoon and raced on it with her sword in her mouth. Timmid’s eyes were wide with surprise. She flipped over Timmid, grabbed her sword, and swung it in an arch, knocking Timmid down. The angelic harpoon clattered softly onto the grass. Docile made it vanish with a wave of his hand.

Moxxie fired his gun and hit Devvin several times. He hissed as black blood ran from parts of his legs. “Get the sheep, you idiot!”

“I fight my own battles,” Moxxie retorted, as he dodged Collin’s punches and blasted Devvin’s revolver out of his hand with a well-aimed shot.

Collin and Tirred shared a look, then both swooped on either side of Devvin. With two hard punches to his face, Devvin plummeted to the ground. He glared at them from below as he slowly stood up and shook his head. Tirred tossed Collin out of range of Moxxie’s bullets before he got hit himself. He gasped in pain before landing on the ground to recover. He winced and glared at Devvin. Moxxie rushed at Collin, but Tirred shoved him back with a force from his golden staff.

Docile, Erebos, Blitzo and Cletus were going head to head as lightning lit up the sky around them.

“Take this, you fucker!” Cletus yelled as he grabbed a nearby rock and threw it toward Blitzo. The rock exploded from Blitzo’s bullet. Another bullet hit one of Cletus’ wing tips, making him stumble in the air. Docile straightened the cherub with one hand as he twirled his staff against Erebos in the other. Erebos flapped his bat wings menacingly. The ground shook below as more cracks appeared. I.M.P. moved to higher ground, gazing at the red lava below in the ground. It created a demonic red glow near the ground. Black blood poured from the demons’ wounds just as gold blood flowed from the angels’.

Timmid stood up and flapped her white wings, glanced around in terror. “We have to stop fighting!” she screamed over the yells and the noises of war. “We’re going to destroy the Earth!”

Timmid suddenly screamed as Dammna smacked her on the head from behind. She plummeted to the ground, with Keenie catching the dazed angel and carrying her to a safe spot.

With ear-shattering yells, Cletus and Erebos rammed into each other, as did Blitzo and Docile. The leaders pushed against each other with all their might, as forces from their attacks shook the area. The demons’ ram horns grew longer and eyes appeared on the angels’ wings. Cletus and Docile glowed blue and white while Erebos and Blitzo glowed red and black. Docile’s harpoon spear pressed against Blitzo’s flintlock pistol. They all seethed and gave each other deadly glares.

Before long, the cracks and forces would spread to the rest of Earth. Heaven and Hell would collapse, the Earth being the final battleground and resting place…

The explosions knocked everyone back, sending all the creatures crashing to the ground. The forest had been burned down to timbers and steam was rising from the lake. Lyle’s mansion had been blasted apart to smithereens…yet the soot covered crowd still took pictures as the tour guide spewed his ever-optimistic commentary. His hat was lopsided and he kicked broken glass away.

“One of the Lipton family heirlooms is this golden money bag statue which was gifted to Lyle in the early 1970s. And it’s still standing…”

The tour guide glanced down to see the statue littering the ground in pieces. “…or it was. I call dibs!”

The battle had been an intense stalemate. And all seemed lost as the ground prepared to swallow everyone in the lava and magma.

The dark clouds swirled in a spiral vortex before slowly parting. Sunlight shone from a circular patch of blue sky. The shaking and the yelling stopped. The cracks in the earth fused together and the world slowly got brighter like it did before. The Archangel Michael arrived from the opening, along with the cherub Deerie by his side.

Blitzo helped up his colleagues. “I think we can call this mission a successful failure.”

Millie supported Moxxie. “What about our target?”

“Forget about him,” Blitzo said. “And forget about those cherubs too. They’re done for.”

The imps looked over at the barely stirring cherubs on the ground.

“Well, looks like we won again,” Moxxie said. “Though we really need to tone down all this fighting.”

“Yeah, I’m tired and could really use an iced coffee right now,” Blitzo said. He took out his green “mare-juanna” horse figure and kissed it. “I knew this lucky charm would come in handy. Let’s go gang!”

The imps grinned and high-fived before disappearing through the portal to Hazbin Hell.

Michael hovered in the air in all his glory, supported by broad white feathery wings. He had pale skin, blushes on his cheeks, and short blonde hair like his fallen brother Lucifer. A sword made of flames was tucked protectively near his belt. A glowing spiked white halo hung over his head with a crystal in the center. He wore a white suit and tailcoat, while several medals and badges shown from the front of his outfit.

He bore a stern expression on his face as the other groups slowly recovered.

“Four interdimensional companies fighting in the one world to cause the most damage to mortal lives. I’m ashamed at all of you. You were lucky that no more humans got hurt.” Michael briefly glared at the cherubs, elves, and diablos.

The cherubs and elves bowed their heads in apology, while the diablos looked on.

“I ask that all of you head back to your worlds immediately. If I ever catch you fighting here again, I’ll erase every one of you from existence. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir,” chimed the six angels.

Deerie then whispered to Micheal.

“Oh, right,” Michael cleared his throat. “C.H.E.R.U.B. will still stay on Earth…no harming any mortals, understand?”

The cherubs nodded fearfully.

“Lord Michael,” said Cletus, lifting his head. “The demonic imps have already left. And those diablos are the ones who started all this!”

“Please Lord Michael,” said Docile. “My company came here on behalf of the importance of C.H.E.R.U.B.’s protection. I humbly ask that you reconsider their previous errors and allow them a chance to…”

A rumbling sound was heard and cracks appeared in the ground again. Two gaping holes appeared in the ground. One of them shot fire into the air.

“There’s our cue,” said Devvin to his companions.

Dammna grinned and pointed toward the cherubs. More cracks were forming underneath them, soon creating another hole. Erebos and his gang flew into the cherubs’ faces. “Have fun catching those imps!” cackled Erebos to the cherubs before the ram trio flew into the column of flames and down below. The ground closed over the portal and the flames disappeared.

“This isn’t over, I.M.P.!” Cletus yelled into the air. He, Keenie, and Collin flew toward D.H.O.R.K.S headquarters and were soon out of sight.

After more looks of warning, Michael and Deerie rose back into Heaven and vanished.

The three somber elf angels slowly rose up into the air and went through another heavenly portal back to their world. Back in paradise, Docile had never felt more alone. He gazed out at the colorful clouds through a window.

Docile didn’t even look at his coworkers. “Welp, the cherubs wanted to redeem themselves and continue their company, and we couldn’t save them. We failed. Thanks to those freaking diablos, C.H.E.R.U.B. is still on Earth, plotting their revenge. Such a shame. All they wanted was to spread love and joy to the living world. And now, they’re separated from Heaven…potentially forever.”

Tirred grumbled. “Don’t say I told you so, but…I told you so.”

Timmid gave her boss a small hug as the three silently gazed at the clouds and sunlight.

From behind the elves, Sully Sirius did a small grin. He whispered, “Now this would make for a spectacular tragic film, don’t you think?”

Docile glumly turned his head all the way around, while his body stayed in place. “Please leave.” Sully looked at him and screamed in fright.

[blue-cat-shitposts]

Sigh. Got me with a Mechanisms quote, that’s a blow below the belt. Alright, shut your mouth and settle down, you sneering little punks. We’ve stories grim as pistol lead to tell to you tonight.

Now, listen up, I’m not going to tell you everything, just the stuff that is vital to understand in the context of the AU.

At the beginning of 2023, Batata Studios gathered four players for a game of Paranoia: Perfect Edition. A peculiar little TTRPG that is all about keeping secrets, backstabbing, double-crossing, lying, committing treason, and generally working against each other to gain the biggest advantage over other players and avoid punishment. Completing whatever mission is given to your team is usually secondary to your priorities. All of this in a dystopian underground complex ran by a paranoid, malfunctioning AI called Friend Computer.

All of us four took different approaches to creating our characters for this setting.

I won’t bore you with the details, so I’ll summarize their canon personalities with vague themes and concepts that they were about (at the time of making the AU):

Sunny-R-HEL Sunny-R-AAA: survival at all costs, trust issues, lack of safety, loss of identity

Sam-O-ALU: blind love and devotion, obsession, unquestioning obedience

Steiner-R-GER: soldier, grudges, revenge

River-R-AMD: fun, !!fun!!, causing mayhem and getting away with it

So you can see by these themes alone how obviously tempting it was to assign each of these colorful characters a fear domain from The Magnus Archives.

We called the AU The Paranoia Records, which later became the name of the original campaign as well.

The AU focuses on Sunny, is the Web's secret agent, who is being sent out on various missions to spy on other Entities and their avatars. Having been roped into the Web's schemes against her will, with unclear, secret connections that bind her to it (it's implied that her real name has been taken and "Sunny" is just a nickname), Sunny has her own hidden agenda in trying to stop as many rituals as possible. She will defeat them with the power of wit, friendship, and a gun she found.

Sunny is accompanied by River Ayem-Dee, a seemingly clueless and good-natured avatar of the Desolation. It's not his fault that things seem to inexplicably get destroyed, set on fire, or explode around him! He just wants to be friends with everyone, he gives the warmest hugs! (Literally) (His "hugs" give you third degree burns). Sunny allowed River to befriend her, using him as a walking weapon/meat shield at first, since River simply refuses to die. Over time she starts genuinely enjoying his company, even if she never admits it openly and still needs to find creative excuses to dodge his hugs. Not much is known about River, and it's never actually made clear if he genuinely believes that all of the destruction he's causing is purely accidental or not.

Sam O. Aluo is an avatar of the Corruption who antagonizes Sunny and River, seemingly wanting to spread the "love" of the Hive. Despite being dressed in a proper formal uniform, they are repulsive in both stench and behavior, with suspicious, oily liquids leaking from under their clothes and various insects walking all over them at all times. Before they became an avatar, Sam was a pathetic little incel who fawned over digital waifus and husbandos in their mother’s basement, until the rot from the food residue and trash they accumulated and the bugs that surrounded it started speaking to them, offering love and affection they’d never known, one they could hardly even imagine. They were 19 at the time. They did not even notice when they’ve been turned into an Avatar. They only knew that now, their life finally had a purpose: seeking out more people to convert to the cult they’ve become a part of, to share and spread the Hive’s love and bring about its Ritual.

Another frequently-appearing antagonist would be an assassin by the name of Steiner Seydlitz, an avatar of the Hunt with strong ties to the Slaughter. He's hunting both Sunny and Sam, but due to his belief that an enemy of an enemy is a useful ally, he constantly ends up helping the other side somehow. Most often, he is allied with Sam, who uses this knowledge to manipulate Steiner into prioritizing Sunny as the target. Steiner is a very unique avatar: he's the only servant of the Hunt that kills his targets. He is sent out only when the hunting has to result in a prey being dead; for that reason, he is simultaneously the Hunt's ultimate secret weapon and the greatest taboo. Back when he was still a human, Steiner was a German soldier, indoctrinated into the military early in his teenage years. When WW2 broke out, he was 18 years old. Pretty quickly, he was marked by and and became the servant of the Slaughter. After the war, he and a couple of other fanatics continued fighting and pursuing their prey, drawing the attention of the Hunt which extended their lifespans. Steiner is the only one from his squad who is always active; the rest is hibernating in a bunker deep in the forest, waiting to be awoken by their commander.

Aside from the main four, there are also secondary characters, like Sunny's mysterious supervisor: an avatar of the Web who sends her out on the missions, spying on her through a small digital recorder that always mysteriously appears on Sunny's person no matter how hard she tries to get rid of it ("I report back to you anyways, so I don't get why you feel the need to do this."). The recordings from the device are how we, the audience, learn of the events of the AU.

There's also Xander, the manager of a local convenience store (think like a 7/11) and Samoa, an employee of the store. These two have frequent run-ins with the main four, who sometimes stop by the convenience store to shop or just appear in the vicinity of it on one occasion or the other. Xander is absolutely terrified of the avatars, preferring to keep his mouth shut, ignore the obvious anomalies and terrors, and pretend that everything is fine, he's fine, this is fine. He's tired and severely overworked and not getting paid enough to deal with this.

Samoa, on the other hand, could not give less of a damn if she tried. Even though she technically works at the store, you hardly ever see her actually working: she's always on break. She is completely unfazed by all the weirdness and horror, chalking it up to just yet another bullshit you have to deal with in customer service. Sunny occasionally contacts her for information she wasn't able to get, and Samoa gladly indulges in gossip about all the fucked up shit she witnessed recently.

There's a lot more lore connected to it, with all the fun little tidbits and details that you can imagine (including a fragment of an actual statement I've written), but this is the basic gist of it.

If you somehow come across this post confused about why I objected to sharing info about Sam or why I call them a rat, you will have to stay confused. Sam had simply so much going on about them that I could not possibly coherently summarize it in here. They were a simp. They got shot for defending a bee. They were the GM's special little meow meow. They were unaware of being a mutant. They had a gun pointed at them every other session. They were shipped (non-canonically) with two player characters. Everyone wanted them dead. They wrote fanfiction about Friend Computer. They had fanfiction written about them. They believed they were the most Loyal. They got yeeted out of the window. They had hydrophobia. They stole credit to gain their waifu's (gender-neutral) attention and approval. They were told by their waifu they deserved to die and accepted it because Friend Computer Is Always Right. They got hit by a car. They rejected everything that didn't fit into their established worldview. They were raised in a cult. They murdered Reigen Arataka. They kept a recording of being pet on the head by Friend Computer as they bled out to death. They believed themselves to be the most deserving of Friend Computer's trust. They kept notes on their team and reported every instance of treason they saw. They got replaced by trans Sans Undertale. They saw no value in fellow humans other than stepping stones for their plans. They were unable to hold any negative feelings towards their beloved. They never believed themselves to have done everything wrong because they were Loyal, they would never go against Friend Computer, they loved it most. They never made mistakes because mistakes don't exist, all mistakes are treason, and treason is harm done upon Friend Computer. They died dressed like the motherfucking Onceler

Ok so since thanks to Paranoia, my TMA phase is back, let me entertain you with the concept of: you know how people draw Distortion with too-long fingers?

Fuck that. Let me present to you a better alternative: the Distortion's hands look like AI-generated hands.

[faunafangz]

Bold of you to assume I won’t give them to everyone.

@cocoa-wheats @mintharpy @pop-peroni @aberranteidolon @fuchsguts @technically-a-frog @kindiare @ladyofthecrescent @stars-and-candybars @doveshell

And to return it to @puppethabitofficial :)

Spread the hugs fools, even if I didn’t tag you, ily still

[livingdeadmlm]

Reader/Wammu? Imagine that Wammu is allergic to pollen, dust, and the like and has suffered from it since childhood. Back then, when he was traveling, there was nothing but Kars' potions, and that helped little and only slightly lessened the symptoms of the allergy. But now that Wammu and the others are staying with their friend, he can have nasal drops, throat/nasal spray and pills to relieve his condition and the pillarmen like it

I love this idea of an actual gods only weakness being allergies it gets a giggle out of me. I’ve been having horrible allergies so I’m basing this off of my own experience

He loves and respects nature

However, spring was his most dreaded time of year for as long as he could remember

The constant headaches, his throat being sore, and constant runny nose it was terrible

The only moments of relief were other seasons and when Kars would give him some sort of remedy but that would only last for a little while

Now that they were staying with you it hadn’t crossed wammus mind to bring up this curse he was given during spring

One morning, as you were making food for the men you had realized wammu, was still in bed

“Kars is wammu okay? It’s not like him to stay in bed so long..”

Kars didn’t look up from his book as he explained the sickness that came with spring wammu had been getting for years

“Humanity brags of their evolution and accomplishments but we’ve found no cure for such a thing.”

“Oh! Poor guy has allergies! Gosh, we have plenty of stuff to fight it, I’ll run to the store right now, keep an eye on the pot please.”

Turing the stove to the lowest temperature you got ready to head out

“I’ll be back soon!” You locked the door behind you keys in hand, ready to help your poor friend fight his allergies.

Once you made it home it had only been a 30-minute trip to the local drug store by your apartment.

Walking back up the steps you were greeted by Kars watering the plants he kept outside of your door.

“Hey, Kars! Has wammu left his room yet?”

He stood up straight thinking for a second, “briefly to use the restroom but that’s all.”

You nodded and stepped into the apartment heading right to wammus room.

Knocking softly on the door you heard a raspy “come in”

“Heyyy wammu I heard you weren’t feeling well so I got you a few things!” With a sniff, he sat up propping his back against the mountain of pillows he had accumulated over time.

You joined him on his bed and beckoned him to come closer. The crinkling of the bag got his attention. He hugged his knees as he watched you rummage around the bag

“Do you have a stuffy nose or a sore throat?”

“Both.”

“Oh… okay so first we’ll do some vicks, do you want me to put it on you, or would you rather do it yourself?”

He eyed the blue container as you opened it allowing him to look at the clear paste. “Could you do it? I don’t know where this goes..” with a slight cough he sat completely up

“Okay! I hope you don’t mind me touching you 'cause this goes on your chest and back.” He nodded and you took that as an okay for you to go ahead.

Taking the cool medicine you rubbed it across his chest and down his back adding a touch of it under his nose

He took a deep breath and a large smile spread across his face

“Oh wow, I can breathe! This stuff is great!”

“We aren’t done yet! I have something for your throat it’ll feel a little weird but trust me okay?”

He nodded as you opened the box pulling out a spray bottle with a green liquid moving inside of it

You shook the bottle and smiled at him to ease any worry he might’ve had, “alright this stuff taste pretty gross so be ready to spit it out,” You pointed to his trash can and popped off the lid to the bottle “Alright big guy open up.”

He opened his mouth and immediately you sprayed the minty medicine to the back of his throat

His nose scrunched as he turned to spit it out, “oh that is awful what’s it meant to do??”

“Well it numbs your throat so you can’t feel it should start working about now” you saw his eyes widen, and with a big smile on his face he sighed

“I feel so much better (name) ah I must repay you for such remedies you provided me!”

“Well you can repay me by finally leaving your room, come on dinner will be ready in a few!”

When he stepped out of the room the others were impressed by how much better wammu was looking and feeling

[draconic-ichor]

Please, for the love of Marika and everything that is golden.

Make the Godlady and Morgott fuck on the throne.

I’m sorry this took so long ;0;

Upon God’s Throne

Elden Ring smut fic

Morgott/ female tarnished

Warning: strong language, sexual themes, knotting, cream pie, penetrative sex, oral sex, edging?

Summary: Morgott and the Lady Tarnished celebrate their anniversary in the very place they were wed.

Feedback appreciated, 18+…sorry if there is spelling mistakes

The GodLord’s handmaidens entered her quarters, giggling between each other. The Lady was trying on a new outfit before a large mirror, smoothing the thin fabric over her curves. Hearing the handmaidens she turned, asking, “So, what did he say?”

“His Lordship agreed!” One smiled, another adding, “He’s going to meet by the thrones within the hour.”

“Thank you.” The Lady nodded, looking over herself again.

The third handmaiden walked up behind her with a heavy cloak. She held it up, “Wear this overtop, then slip it off in front of his Lordship.” The girl gave a cheeky smile, “It’ll drive him mad!”

“Good idea.” The Lady agreed excitedly, allowing the other to drape the cloak over her shoulders. She secured it tightly, hiding her revealing dress away. Before she went to the door she addresses the girls once more, “I require privacy tonight, no one is to disturb his Lordship and I.” She instructed, “Unless there’s an emergency,of course.”

They all nodded, stifling some giggles, “Yes, my Lady.”

~

Morgott stood at the base of the Erdtree, gazing quietly up into its splendor. He wasn’t surprised his little wife asked of him, given the day, but the location was unusual. He didn’t complain however, enjoying time under its golden light.

Morgott failed to hear the Lady pad up behind him on bare feet.

“It is beautiful.” The Lady smiled, causing Morgott to jump a bit.

“My Lady!” Morgott clutched at his robes over his heart.

She only giggled, padding a bit away. She twirled a bit in the golden leaves that littered the thrones. Morgott watched her antics, a warmth spreading over him.

“One year ago exactly we were wed, right her.” The Lady mused, movements coming to a slow stop.

“Aye…” Morgott came closer.

“It doesn’t seem so long ago, does it?” She asked, walking slowly towards the Elden throne.

“Life has moved quickly as of late.” He agreed, following her steps.

She turned, just before the seat and smiled, “I’d do it all over again.”

“My Lady has no regrets?” He tilted his head, leaning on his cane.

“None worth giving up where we stand now.” Her voice was genuine, “Everything we’ve done has led us right here.”

“Aye.”

“Thank you, for coming.” She reached out, taking his free hand.

Morgott softened, but then asked with a chuckle, “What tricks have thee planned? I know my beloved well enough to know she has ulterior motives.”

She tried to look offended, releasing his hand. But under his scrupulous gaze she cracked. “Fine!” The Lady Tarnished wrinkled her nose, before unclasping her cloak. The thick fabric fell away from her, revealing a light dress that hugged her every curve.

Morgott swallowed, silently causing the stirring in his gut. “My Lady wishes to tease mine more primal instincts?” He grunted, holding the cane a bit tighter.

“Of course not.” She turned away, showcasing the rest of her natural assets, and shifting her attention to the Elden Throne.

The Lady sat showily down on the throne, placing her hands on either armrest. She was dwarfed in the large seat, causing a smile to tug at Morgott’s lips.

“What?” She frowned.

“Thou art quite small.” He chuckled.

The Lady gave a fake pout, shifting a bit in the seat. Suddenly a impish look came over her face, playing with the hem of her skirts as she feigned innocence, “I was hoping we could have a bit of fun tonight…”

“Here?!” Morgott almost scoffed at the idea.

She nodded, pulling her skirt up to reveal her womanhood completely bare. That made any words die on Morgott’s tongue, admiring how she was already growing wet with slick.

“This is inappropriate.” Morgott grumbled, sinking to his knees.

“And how is that?” She asked, spreading her legs wider.

“This is a sacred place.” He pointed out, golden eye flicking up to meet her own.

The Lady reached out, cupping his cheek, “What better place to celebrate our Union than the very place it was formed?” She added with a whisper, “The Greater Will is not displeased with my plans.”

He looked a bit baffled for a moment, “It is not?”

“No.” She shook her head, “So let us enjoy one another.”

He closed his mouth, lips a thin line for a moment. He’d be a liar if he hadn’t thought of this exact scenario in the past. Taking a breath, he squashed his worry.

Morgott’s large hands spread her thighs, gathering up the thin material of her dress and casting it aside. He placed gentle kisses along her leg from foot to thigh, good eye flicking up to hold her gaze as his mouth moved further. The tarnished sucked in a shaking breath, back arching as Morgott took his prize.

He worshipped his God, his Elden Lord, his wife, in the most carnal of ways. Drawing beautiful sounds from her throat as he bathed his tongue over her folds. Here, all the gold that adorned her natural form seemed to glow, enhanced by the holy light of the Erdtree.

~

“You are overdressed, my Lord.” She panted, brushing golden hair from her face.

Morgott deftly pulled his robes from his shoulders, the glow of the tree sending his fur a sheen of silver.

She stood on shaking legs, slick wetting her inner thighs. She pointed to the now free throne, instructing, “You were right, it’s much too large for me. The throne seems more suited to you.”

Morgott shrank a bit, looking worried, “I-I couldn’t possibly sit upon thy throne.”

“It is my throne and I’m telling you, you can.” She said matter-o-factly, “Now sit!”

Morgott almost looked like a struck dog, an internal conflict filtering over his face. He swallowed, finally moving to sit. The throne was almost the perfect size for him, just needing a bit of finesse to find a comfortable position for his tail.

The tarnished beamed, “You look regal!”

Morgott waved away her compliment, muttering, “This display is most obscene…”

“Because your bare ass is upon the Elden Throne?” The tarnished smiled cheekily, earning a deep crimson to her husband’s face.

Morgott cleared his throat in an attempt to lessen his own embarrassment, patting his thigh, “Prithee, mercy my beloved.”

She started climbing up, Morgott assisting her to gently place her in his lap, back along his chest.

The Lady sat gingerly down on his cock, the wetness from his earlier actions and gravity assisting in spearing her fully to the hilt.

She wiggled a bit, walls stretching to accommodate his girth. Morgott gripped the arms of the throne as she got comfortable, tail flicking at the tip.

“Don’t just mate me fast to be free of me.” She giggled, running a hand down his thigh sensually.

“I’d nary the thought.” He murmured, brushing some of her golden hair aside to bare her neck to him.

“I just didn’t want you to hide away.” She admitted, allowing him to ghost his lips over her pulse point, “This is dauntingly new…after all.”

He nodded, whispering huskily into her head, “If all mine gods see no ill with our coming actions then I will spare thee any further reservations.”

She wanted slow and meaningful so he would give her just that. He started a traitorously unrushed pace.

One arm wrapped around her upper half, supporting her easily against his chest. His other dipped down, hand parting the golden curls between the softness of her thighs. He made slow, even circles on her swollen nub.

He pressed warm kisses across her neck and shoulder blades. His mouth was hot, tongue lashing out to bathe over her skin every so often. The tarnished was wanton, writhing in his hold. Her fingernails dug into the thick skin of his forearm, leaving little half moon shapes in her wake. His cock pulsed from within her, dragging with languid movements along her inner walls.

Morgott was deft and unyielding, every movement dedicated and precise as he brought waves of pleasure coursing through her needy body.

“P-please!” She begged, voice horse.

His fingers didn’t falter, keeping up their even temper. He pressed a kiss, deep and slow, to her pulse point. “Shhhhh.” He soothed with a husky whisper, dragging his teeth up her neck. He made a trail to her ear.

Feeling his breath fan over her hotly made her legs tremble around his thighs. She was close, he could feel it in the way she squeezed down on his member.

“Mine beloved…” he cooed.

The world around them melted away, the pleasure he brought her being the only thing the Tarnished could hope to focus on. She held into him like a lifeline as every small shift of his cock brought her closer to crashing. It was agonizing, how he kept a slow pace despite her cries for more.

Finally that tightened coil of iron in her abdomen broke with white hot ecstasy. The GodLord screamed, back arching into Morgott’s chest. He held her writhing, no longer caring if anyone heard their passions.

Juices squirted out, wetting his cock. Morgott continued to circle her clit through her high, her cries bringing a smile to his lips.

Finally he grated her mercy, pulling his hands away from her shaking form to straighten back. He truly was a King, how he now proudly sat upon the throne despite his cock sunk unabashed to the hilt in his little wife.

Taking her hips he started chasing his own end now, the time for drawn out pleasures over. She fell forward, hands bracing herself on his knees. She held on as he fucked up into her with abandon. Their coupling became fevered, wet sounds of sex echoing around the throne room.

His knot stuck tight, trapping her to him and to the throne. She made a gurgling moan, brain scrambled.

One hand gripped the throne until his knuckles whitened, the other held their hips flush as he emptied all he was worth into her womb.

They sat for a long moment, trying to catch their breaths. The tarnished’s muscles trembled, threatening to give out. Morgott shifted her around, allowing the Lady to rest against his chest.

This place was so many things to Morgott: the center of his religion, where he slept and lived for so many years, where he killed countless tarnished, where he bared his accursed shame upon the stone, the exact spot he formed an alliance with the Lady Tarnished, where they healed his beloved tree side by side. And finally, the place he became a consort to a God….

He tipped his head back against the throne, gazing up into the Erdtree’s glow. He felt the Lady’s walls squeeze around him, causing a pleasured sigh to escape his lips. Once his stomach would of turned at the idea of enjoying such pleasures, of allowing himself satisfaction of the flesh. Now it was a means of his most devout worship, hearing his very god cry out his name and mewl for more of simply him.

It was intoxicating.

Morgott held the Lady closer, content to just bask in the closeness of the knotting. She cuddled into him, fingers racking through the fur of his chest.

“I love you.” She murmured into his skin.

A purr rumbled around his chest as his heart swelled. “I love thee too…so very deeply.” He whispered back, reaching down to take her chin between his thumb and forefinger gently.

The Lady looked up, meeting his gaze. She graced him with a smile, brightness to rival the sun.

Morgott was no stranger to love, for loved the Erdtree he did, living his prolonged life never expecting to feel that same devotions showered on himself. It was peculiar… now to be loved so purely in return.

But love him she did.

[seiyasabi]

Ripe For The Pickin’

(This is a Yandere Kita x Fem Reader Story! Hopefully y’all like this lmao, sorry if his hick accent is annoying lmao, I thought it gave him ¬flavour¬

Tw: !!noncon!, !misogyny!, breeding kink!, !Detailed postpartum depression!!!, !!!Mentions of attempted suicide and murder of a child!!!, !Mental illness!, !Defeatist attitude!, !Disassociation!,  housewife reader!, threats of physical harm!, manipulation!, mentions of kids!, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution! Note: Part of my family are farmers- my grandpa specifically, and he speaks very similarly to how I wrote Kita’s dialogue (the joking bit). He had a farm in Hawaii growing up, and he always jokes that he’s ‘but a country folk,’ so I mean no offense to those who own a farm. )

Throwing down his work cap on your kitchen table, Kita visibly brightens at your busy form. Your two year old son is balanced perfectly on your hip, your other hand stirring a pot of Udon. The steam rises around your head, slightly flushing your (skin colour) complection. 

Looking up, your eyes immediately meet the white haired male’s, causing you to freeze up momentarily. He sends you a warning look. 

“Welcome Home, Shinsuke,” A wobbly grin spreads across your painted features (just how Kita liked- he likes when you try to look good for him), catching the attention of your son immediately. 

“Daddy!” He practically hops out of your hold, rushing to the large male. Your unwanted husband scoops him up in his buff arms, swinging him around. 

“Whoa, one’a these days yer gonna throw yer Pa’s back out,” He grins happily at his carbon copy, smooching the small boy on his grey hair. 

The little one giggles cutely, basking in his father’s presence. You quickly approach Kita, hugging him from the side, and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “We’ve missed you all day, My Love,” He always likes it when you’re sappy- it makes him feel wanted. 

At your words, he delivers a lingering kiss to your lip tint stained lips, your son half in your arms and half in your husband’s. You lightly pinch your babe’s cheek, causing him to giggle, before you kiss him on his forehead. Kita visibly brightens at your affectionate side, his open arm wrapping around your waist, “What’cha makin’ fer dinner, Pretty Lady?” 

You cringe internally, yet you can’t help the blush that forms on your pretty face, “Kazue wanted Udon- I hope that’s okay,” Shinsuke nods, a thoughtful look on his face. 

“‘O course,” He lightly pinches your son’s other cheek, “If our growin’ boy wants Udon, by God, he’ll get it.” 

-

Settling Kazue down in his bed, you give the sleeping boy a tender kiss on the forehead. As much as you hate Kita, you don’t have the heart to hate your son. He, like you, didn’t ask to be here, so you decided to be the best mom he could ever have. 

Smoothing his blanket over his lower body, you tuck the other bits under him, and lay his favourite stuffy next to him. Once done, you step away from the slumbering babe, and make your way out of his room. Kita is waiting in the night light lit hallway, leaning against the opposing wall. 

You jump slightly, not expecting him to be there. 

“Is something wrong, Shinsuke?” A practiced smile appears on your face, hands clasping behind your back to keep you grounded. 

He says nothing, motioning you to follow him, before turning and walking towards your shared bedroom. Shuffling after him, you try to still your rapidly beating heart. Did you do something wrong? 

Kita isn’t one to shy away from punishment. If anything, he revels in the momentary feeling of power-that is, until your broken body and mind are left in the aftermath. Then, he can’t help but feel horrible, because in some twisted way, the man truly loves you. So, he’ll try to cuddle and kiss his wrongs away, trying to forget that he’s the catalyst of all the things going wrong in your life. 

Burying those thoughts away, you step into the darkened room, noticing immediately that Kita is settled on his side of the bed. He’s stripping himself of his overshirt, exposing his wife-beater underneath, “Ya know, I think it’s time fer the boy ta have a brother.”

It feels as though the world around you is crumbling. Just when you gain a sense of normalcy, the bastard rips that away from you. 

Your smile visibly wavers, but you try to hold strong, “I-well, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Your hands are trembling, your heart practically being torn from your chest, “Kazue is still a toddler, I think it would be better if he was around five. Then, he can interact with-” Kita holds up a hand, halting your speech. 

“Yer gettin’ too technical fer the simple folk in tha room, Pretty Lady,” He stands to his feet, discarding his slippers, before slipping his baggy jeans off of his lower half, “Jus’ say yer too selfish to give yer lovin’, hardworkin’ husband tha things he deserves-” 

Kita knows that you had postpartum depression. He knows that you not only almost hurt yourself, but also your precious son. He knows that you had to be sedated at one point to even continue living. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t care. 

Tears fill your eyes, as you finally let your feelings become known, “That was horrible to say, Shinsuke. You know how hard it was for me-”

“It was also hard fer me too, ya’know,” He’s doing it again… trying to manipulate you into being the bad guy, “Seein’ ya go bonkers was hard ta’ watch. Plus, seein’ our son almost drown in tha tub-” 

“Stop it!” You finally lose your cool, surprising your usually collected kidnapper, “You don’t get to claim it was hard for you, when everything is your fault!” His mouth open and closes like a dying fish, unsure what to say, “If you waited for me to be ready to have children, I wouldn’t have spiraled out of control. If I was given the help I needed, I wouldn’t have gone psychotic. If you hadn’t stolen me away from my life and forced me to bend to your will, none of this would have happened!” By now, you’re a sobbing mess. He always does this. Kita always breaks you down until you seem crazy, but you’re not. You’re just tired of how he treats you like a baby maker, tired of how he treats you like nothing, yet claims you’re his entire world. 

But, when you hear him sigh softly to himself, you know that he doesn’t care about your feelings, “Do I need to use the gag? I thought we were above that.” 

Knowing that refusal won’t be tolerated or respected, you don’t bother wasting anymore of your breath. Slipping off your house slippers, you shuck off your dress, revealing your bare chest and panties. More tears slip down your face, as you lay down on your large shared bed. 

Shinsuke grins at your compliance, quickly moving between your legs, and stripping you of your drawers. His rough fingers rub at your clit and slit, “Good girl. ‘Ya know yer man jus’ wants what’s good fer ya, an’ a baby is good fer any good woman.” 

You ignore him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Kita continues to rub against your clit, trying to coax an orgasm out of you. But, you don’t give him the satisfaction. 

Staring at the ceiling, you let your mind go. Your dissociated body reacts well to his ministrations, your arousal coating your thighs, as they tremble in lieu of an orgasm. 

His fingers dig in deep, as they force your pussy open. Feeling how relaxed you are, he decides that you’re loose enough to go right in. 

Pulling out his thick cock, he bumps the head against your slick cunny, “Don’ worry, Darlin’, yer man will take good care of ya,” He slides in with relative ease, your hips bumping against his.  

The normal constricting feeling in your chest has long since faded, instead, the feeling of acceptance at the fact that you couldn’t get out of this replaced it. 

Your body jolts and rolls with Kita’s harsh thrusts, his panting warm against your neck, “Yer so good fer me, (Your Name), yer gonna bear me healthy sons,” The gummy walls of your pussy knead his cock thoroughly, trying to milk him for everything he’s got, “I knew you were perfect fer the takin’.” 

He forces your knees next to your head, the head of his cock bashing into your cervix painfully. Fortunately, that was enough to set your body off. A gush of cum drenches the both of you, as Kita slams himself inside of you entirely, allowing your womb to be filled to the brim with his fertile cum. 

“Ya never disappoint, Darlin’,” He smooches you on your lax lips, ignoring the fact that your head is practically empty, “Maybe you’ll have twins this time.” 

With that, he starts his hardcore pace one more. 

But, you can’t bring yourself to care. As long as you can drift away from the events unfolding in front of you, 

[midnightmoonytales]

𝕃𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕌𝕤: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙

Genre: Angst

Summary: This is the tale of how we children were forced to bear our fangs from a young age, to never trust anyone and icy glares at whoever was a threat. Venom soared through our veins, fulfilling our parents' duty, which was forcibly placed upon us. Wishing for a break, a chance to run. But what happens when we don't run soon enough?

Warning: a few cuss words here and there.

<><><>

We should have run, we should have just bloody ran. But I'm getting ahead of myself,

We are the villains of this story, and this is how we ended.

Hogwarts 1991,

Y/N

The sounds of people wishing their families goodbye are muffled by the silence from your family walking. The only noticeable sounds of your mother's heels clicking against the concrete of platform 9 ¾. This was normal, or well should we say your normal. Watching as some families step to the side as you pass by. A look of dread spread across their face. If they weren't gasping about The Harry Potter, aka the boy who lived, aka an annoying boy whose only reason for being popular is he survived Voldemort's attacks, they were inching away from you. Avoiding everyone's eyes as you continued walking, only paying attention to the presence of your parents. The rest of your siblings are at home with the house-elf, Elowen.

Finally coming to a stop, the pressure of your father's hands now resting on your shoulders from behind. “Now remember everything we’ve taught you, y/n.” His words lay thick in the air, almost suffocatingly. Tightening your clammy hands around the handle of the trolly. “ We expect great news...don’t disappoint us.” Looking up into your father's icy glares, simply nodding. You knew what he meant, make it into Slytherin and live out its legacy as those before you did. Unless you wanted to end up like the Blacks' eldest son, Sirius.

Rather than hugs and kisses, firm handshakes and pats on the shoulders were given. Getting on with all your luggage, you found an empty cabin. A plus from coming earlier, you suppose. After a few minutes of sitting quietly while staring out the train window, a boy walks in. “Mind if I sit here?” Turning your head rather quickly, eyeing where the voice came from. Tilting your head ever so slightly to signal he can sit. Not that you were really given a choice as he started to sit down before you could even approve. “The name Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” He continued once he was settled in. “and your name?”

You knew all about the Malfoys, venom lacing your parent's voices when mentioning them. They believed they were a family of cowards who would run away with their legs between their legs. Not that they were wrong, but like damn. Your eyes scan him thoroughly, from his greasy hair to the smug smirk that is plastered on his face. Everything about his presence annoyed you. Fingers picking at the hem of your skirt while you debated telling him your name.

Why give him the luxury of knowing you, moreso your name. Your parents would be so disappointed, wouldn't they? Making friends with a Malfoy, someone who your family speaks so ill upon. Or maybe that’s your plan. Just maybe, for even a split second, you can do what you want. Rebell against your family and live the life you wanted. It’s not like you're under servelince anymore. You’re a free bird, right? Doubt flooded your mind, if you were to befriend him, nothing would change, but everything would at the same time. Lying to your parents in a manner more than what you did now. You’d be putting a lot of things at stake. Trust…not like there was much, but it was there. Ability to roam about when you please. After what felt like minutes you finally spoke up, “L/n, Y/n,” mimicking the boy. A small smirk displays on your lips as you join hands.

“Hate to interrupt this lovely interaction, but can we sit?” A girl with dark hair asked, arms crossed and leaning against the cabin door. Draco and your hands immediately come apart, like it was a crime to be seen touching. “I don’t have time for this.” The girl spoke, immediately sitting down beside you as the boy followed, sitting by Draco. Talk about patience, am I right? “Pansy Parkison, your Draco Malfoy, and you two are?” her eyes peering between the other boy and you. (Shit if it's a crime then mama I’m in love with a criminal)

“Balise Zabini,” The boy spoke, quick and straight to the point. He would be a good person to acquaint yourself with. Similarly to you, he is reserved and appears to not want to be here. He is also quite tall for his age, his lanky ankles hitting against yours as the train makes its way to Hogwarts. Vibrations of the train rolling against the track rumbling against everyone's feet. The squeaky wheels of the candy trolly made it's way down the aisle.

Mustering up the courage after realizing their eyes were officially on you. “Y/n…L/n.” You spoke, the pads of your hands rubbing harshly against the fabric of your skirt. Your cat Lucifer, laying between your legs, his tail swishing against your stalkings. The odd sensation causes the hair on your legs to stand up. The silence was loud before it finally clicked in the young girl's head.

Pansy’s voice raising as she spoke, “As in the L/n family!” Her reaction was a mix between excitement and fear. Her eyes glanced over all of your features, hands grasping her knees. Everyone's attention was now on you, or well the three's attention was on you. You were used to getting this type of reaction, people had many emotions towards your family and you. Envy, Hatred, Admiration you name it. Typically those of admiration were equally fucked up as your family and their twisted ideals. But what pureblood family wasn’t, or shall we say isn't?

Nodding, dreading to hear what comes out of the girl's mouth. Wishing you could be back in the solitude of your own room. “We’ll L/n, I think we're going to be exceptional friends.” Her hands were holding onto yours, while she stared straight at you with a smirk setting upon her mouth. It was like every alarm was triggering inside your head, but it was unable to see if it was good or bad. Who would betray who first? You or her? Or neither, could this friendship really go somewhere special, or could it be rotten like an apple.

Nothing much more than a few words spread around here and there, if you want to call Draco’s “rants” quiet. Just the way you like it, nice and quiet. The only sound was the train tracks running against the wheels of the train, if you were quiet enough you could hear the sound of metal scraping. Soon enough, after a ride of stiff joints and a mix of excited and horrified students, you all arrived at Hogwarts.

The booming voice of a giant man guided all the students to the boats, introducing himself as Hagrid, the keeper of keys and Hogwarts. The four of you split apart, minus Pansy as she stuck herself to your side. Her sinful smirk gleamed through the night as you both made your way onto one of the boats.

“Pansy Parkison, '' Professor McGonagall called out, the girl detached herself from your side as she stepped up to the chair. Her shoulders raised in excitement. “Slytherin,” The hat yelled as it was placed upon your head. The yells and cheers emerged from the Slytherin table, claps echoing throughout the room. “Y/n L/n,” McGonagall spoke, and everything quieted down again, as it did for those before you. Rolling your shoulders back you made your way toward the chair. McGonagall gave you a kind smile before she placed the hat on your head. “Hmm, you would be exceptional in Ravenclaw but I sense a desire for something else.” The hat spoke. He knew, or at least you think he knew. You had to make Slytherin- “Slytherin aye? Just like the rest of your family.” The hat's voicous laughter echoed. Just like the rest of your family, constantly repeating inside your head. “Slytherin,” The sorting hat shouted.

Making your way to the Slytherin table you were met with cheers and congratulations from others. Your previous cabin mates gave you either high fives or smiles as you sat down. After waiting a while for each first-year student to be named, you listened to those around you mingling. Draco met two boys named Crabbe and Goyle, while you thought they were complete blokes, Draco must have seen something in them. The time for the feast had finally arrived, everything from Pumpkin juice to turkey legs was placed on the table for all of the students to enjoy. And let's not even get started on dessert, your parents never let you have this much of it at home. But you aren't at home, are you? It's time to dig in.

Classes for the most part were fairly easy, flying class was nothing new. Your parents had you on a broom the moment you could walk. They exhausted every possible skill that they could out of you from a young age. Transfiguration was boring, but seeing professor McGonagall turn into a cat and scare the absolute knockers out of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley was absolutely delightful. Potions were well eventful, a family friend, Severus Snape was your professor. He was even more brooding and intimidating during classes than outside of Hogwarts. Outside, or at least when he is with your family, he is quiet and doesn’t bully children. Well, he doesn’t bully you, you can’t speak for others. Astronomy had to be your favorite class, not that you didn’t already know much about it. Greek Mythology was your favorite growing up and with that, you learned a lot about astronomy. Maybe not everything, but enough to help you get through classes.

Draco had dragged you from your dorm when he heard that Potter and his little gang were out past curfew. Spying on them from the window when you had seen the group look up at you after Hagrid had said something. Dragging Draco by the arm you rushed away until you had lost sight of the bunch, who quickly on your departure, left as well. “We should tell a professor about them,” and that's exactly how you ended up here. Looking for a creature that has been killing unicorns inside the forbidden forest.

Draco’s “smart” plan, to snitch on the trio, which you told him would get you in trouble, got you in trouble. “I’m sorry professor, I must have misheard you.” Draco started, digging your graves even deeper. “I thought I heard you say, “you five,” Draco finished. Inside your head yelling at him to shut up, wishing you could just thump him on the forehead.

“You heard me correctly Mr. Malfoy. You and Miss L/n were also out past curfew.” Professor McGonagall said. Is it too late to go lay in the ground forever? You thought. So that's what brought you here, with The Harry Potter, like omg you should be shaking in your boots. Kidding. Deep in the forest, two whimps and Potter. You can’t even make fun of him when he has more courage than Draco at the moment. Walking through the forbidden forest with these bloody idiots was not how you wanted to die. Why did they even send children to go looking for what was killing the unicorns, you ain't trying to be chopped liver. Stepping over roots and pushing bushes, you all stumbled upon a unicorn being feasted on. Draco being Draco ran as fast as he could away.

“Draco, you prat get your ass back here.” You yelled out for him. The first time you had spoken that night, it was used to yell at Draco. The boy ran as fast as he could back towards the castle. Groaning, you took your leave after him, leaving Harry with Fang to deal with the monster eating the unicorn. It would have been quite cool to see this monster, but noooo Draco just had to be a scary cat. Catching up to him, just a little ways past Hagrids Hut. “You really do run with your tail between your legs,” You said, hands on your knees, catching your breath.

“Piss off,” He said, pushing you by the shoulder. A smirk was plastered upon your face, but you remained quiet as you both made your way to the dormitories. A simple “night,” was released from his mouth as he made his way up to his room. Making your way up to your room, Pansy was waiting for you. Telling you about how she watched the Weasley twins get in trouble with Snape and how they're now forced into detention. Grabbing your sleeping cap, placing your hair into it before tucking yourself into bed. The moonlight mixed water shining down, illuminating the room. The year was already off to an interesting start.

<><><>

@ghostofscarley @verygayauthor this took me way too long to write. I wanted to be done with it two weeks ago but finals got in the way of it. I hope you enjoyed it.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

Show Me [Part 2/2]

Summary: Spencer finds out his girlfriend’s a virgin. But she wants him to change that.

A/N: This is Part 2 of an anon request. I was shocked by the response to Part 1, and I’m so excited for you guys to read this one! (I also set up an 18+ sideblog @spenciebabie if you wanna check that out)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Mostly smut, and a lil fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, oral (female receiving), fingering, masturbation (female), penetrative sex, please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed

Word count: 4.1k

Request: “Omg I’ve just found your account, you’re an amazing writer! If you’re taking requests, could you write something with virgin!reader and like season 13/14 Spencer?”

Masterlist

Read Part 1 Here

He’s booked a hotel room. A nice one. A really nice one.

They spent the whole week hoping that they wouldn’t get pulled away on a case. Just counting down the days until the weekend hit and they could finally release all of the pent up tension that had been building in each of them.

Of course she was still nervous, but the good kind of nervous. The kind that made you giddy more than it made you worried. Since she’d opened up to Spencer he’d been nothing but kind and supportive. It sort of made her want to sleep with him even more than ever, but he insisted that they wait, he wanted it to be special.

And now that she had time to prepare, she did all the things she thought you were supposed to do before having sex. She got waxed for the first time, and it hurt. It hurt way more than she was willing to admit. She bought lingerie. She had no idea what Spencer’s taste was when it came to things like that, but she did what Spencer would do and she made an educated guess. She knew that he liked it when she wore dresses, he would always compliment her when she wore pale colors. He said she looked pretty in everything, but especially in white.

So she picked out a set that was white, with lots of intricate little lace details. No one warned her that lingerie was so expensive, but Spencer was paying for a hotel room, so she figured she could spring for some pretty underwear. It wasn’t just for him, when she tried it on in the dressing room she knew she couldn’t leave without it. Something about the lace and the way it hugged her body just made her feel amazing.

Not that Spencer would’ve minded if she’d done none of that. He’d still find her sexy if she turned up in sweatpants and a t-shirt with stains on it. She was perfect to him. Which is why they didn’t want to jump into it right away. Where was the sense of occasion in that?

Instead Spencer had planned out the evening, he’d pick her up from her apartment, and they’d drive to the hotel, drop their bags, then head out for dinner. When they returned to the room that evening, then they’d have sex.

She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it didn’t sound so sexy when he gave her a regimented list of activities like that. But she knew he just wanted her to have the best possible time, and she trusted him. As always.

And she was right to trust him, but Spencer had been losing his mind about that all week. Stressed that he was going to be a let down. She’d never been with anyone else before and what if he was underwhelming? What if it was the worst first time anyone ever had? He knew the statistics, how few women cum their first time, how few cum from penetration alone. And in spite of himself he was determined. Determined to make this the best it could possibly be for her.

She was perfect, and she deserved no less than perfection.

He thought about filling their hotel room with roses, so many that you’d hardly be able to see the room. Or maybe just rose petals, scattered along the bed and the floor. Would candles be too much?

Instead he stopped himself, and he kept it simple. He bought a bouquet of roses before he went to pick her up. When he showed up at her door, flowers in hand she wasn’t quite ready to leave yet. Her hair and make-up were pristine, but she was still in sweatpants and an oversized jumper.

“Are we staying in tonight? I could’ve sworn we had plans?” he jokes, stepping inside and handing her the flowers.

“Haha, very funny. I just need 10 minutes to change.” she swats his arm, “Aren't you a walking cliche, a dozen red roses?” she admires the bouquet, bringing her nose to them to take in the sweet scent.

“Nope” he says with confidence, “Only 10. While red roses signify love and romance, the number of roses given actually carries it’s own significance.” he explains, “And the message that 10 roses sends is, ‘you’re perfect’, which you are”. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks as he says it. He feels so sappy but from the way she looks up at him he can tell she’s just as sappy.

“You’re too much” she says, and pulls him in for a short kiss, “Will you put these in some water for me while I get dressed?” she asks, and he wants to tell her not to bother, they should ditch the plan and he’ll just scoop her up into his arms right now and take her on her bed. But he just about manages to stop himself.

When she emerges from her room again she’s in the sweetest little dress. It’s white, and the bodice hugs her while the skirt fans out once it hits her waist. She looks like a fucking princess. He loved her, he loved that this was what made her feel confident, and sexy. And he can’t escape the little gasp that falls from his lips. She just giggles at him.

“Close your mouth” she teases.

“No way, come here” he reaches out for her and settles his hands on her waist, pulling her in close and pressing their lips together, slow and deliberate. Taking his time to taste her, making sure she can feel exactly how excited he is to be with her. It takes longer than it should but she has to press her hands on his chest and push him away gently to break the kiss.

“If you keep kissing me like that we’re not gonna make it out of my living room” she says, and it’s supposed to be a joke but they both seem to know it’s only just shy of the truth.

— —

The hotel’s not far from either of their apartments, but it feels like a completely different planet. It’s expensive looking, and it’s such a stark contrast to all of the motels they have to stay in across the country.

The bed is plush, and high off the ground with crisp white sheets. And even if they weren’t planning on having sex in it, they’d still be excited to sleep in it. As they enter the room Spencer drops their bags while Y/N all but sprints over to the bed, throwing her body onto it with such force that she bounces back up off it just a little.

Spencer laughs at her, and her giddy excitement. There was still a nervous energy present in her, but nothing like before. There was no worry, no uncertainty.

He can’t help but admire her, the way she’s spread out on the bed, her hair fanned out around her like a halo, her dress spread out, blending into the white of the sheets as she giggled, her chest rising and falling with her deep breaths.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he says, walking over to the bed, standing so that he’s looking down on her. She just shakes her head from side to side.

“That’s you” she turns it back on him and he smiles. He leans down over her bracing his hands on either side of her head as he leans down to kiss her. Her own hands move up to cradle his face, holding it gently as their lips move against one another. When they break apart she’s just looking up at him adoring.

“How did I get so lucky?” she asks this time, and his heart just about explodes in his chest. He leans in again, kissing her with a little more force than last time. Climbing onto the bed instead of hovering over it so that he can be closer to her, feel more of her pressed up against him than just her lips.

He moves so that they’re both on the mattress, so that he can wrap an arm around her waist and pull her so tight against him while they kiss. He uses his other hand to roam around her body, down her shoulder, trailing delicately along her arm. Along the curve of her waist, gripping her hip just a little when he passes it. He uses that hand to slowly pull up the skirt of her dress. Not with an intentions, just so that he can have a hand on her bare skin. Resting so gently on her thigh so that he can feel the goosebumps that he leaves behind.

That’s one of the things he loves most about her, just how responsive she is. It never takes very long before she’s gasping and moaning beneath him, even if his hands are gentle. And that’s exactly how they end up. With her writhing beneath him, tiny moans passing from her mouth into his as his fingers dig into the skin of her thighs. Hiking up her dress, further and further until he could see her panties. Just like that evening on his couch.

“Spence?” she moans out as his hands creep further and further inside of her thighs. He pauses for a moment to look down at her, to check in.

“Are you okay?” he rasps, his breathing shaky, and she nods quickly, putting him at ease instantly.

“I just— could we— can we do it now?” she’s looking up at him completely doe-eyed, her hands draped lazily around his neck, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation. And all he wants in the world is to say yes. Fuck it, yes of course, anything she wanted. But he couldn’t.

They’d waited this long, what was another few hours. Besides, they had reservations, he didn’t want to have to rush anything to make it to the restaurant in time. He wanted to give her all of the attention she deserved. So he shook his head.

“Nope” he says, telling himself as much as her, “We’ve got dinner in 30”

She pouts immediately, and he wants to give in right away but he pulls himself back, removing his hands from her thighs, and freeing himself from her soft grip. She pouts even more as he stands up off the bed completely.

“You’re really gonna leave me like this?” she asks, more brazen than usual, sitting up on her elbows a little so that she can see him as he walks across the room.

“I don’t want to start something I can’t finish” he jokes, but she doesn’t look impressed.

“You already did” she counters, his eyes darting to her exposed white panties between her legs, but he shakes his head again.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, you better start getting ready for dinner” he points at her as though he’s trying to be stern, but they both knew he was wrapped around her finger.

She’s got absolutely no intention of using this time to get ready. Instead she reclines back in the bed, resting her head amongst the pillows, and she takes up right where Spencer left off. Pulling her skirt up and tucking her fingers into the waistband of her panties to find herself soaking wet. She trails her fingers between her folds, her lips softly parting to let out a small moan at the overall feeling that was building in her already.

She can’t help but cry out just a little as she sinks one of her fingers inside of herself, burying it as deep as it will go and curving it up to hit that spot she knows so well. By the time she’s added a second finger Spencer’s back in her line of sight. And he looks like he’s almost frozen in place when their eyes lock.

“Y/N” he just gasps, so small, she’s mentioned that she was the only other person who'd touched her like that, but for some reason he’d never thought to picture it. And thank god he hadn’t, it wouldn’t have held a candle to this.

“You started it,’’ she whines, “so I’m finishing it” her chest it heaving as she takes in long, labored breaths, her back arching up off the bed as her fingers continue to move inside of her panties. When it looks like she might just be about to cum her intervenes, sitting next to her on the bed and grabbing her wrist softly.

“Let me” he breathes, and she lets him pull her hand out of her panties. Instead of leaving it down by her side he brings it up towards him. Taking the two fingers that had just been inside of her and sucking them into his mouth. His soft lips sealing around them. She didn’t even know what to say.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so long” he says once he lets the digits out of his mouth, and she's not only speechless, but she’s breathless now too.

With that he repositions himself on the bed so that he’s lying in-between her legs. He pulls at the sides of her panties and slides them down her legs so that she’s exposed to him. Now that he’d gotten a taste of her he was desperate for more.

Reaching further up under the skirt of her dress so that he could rest his hands on her hips, he uses the leverage to pull her a little closer. So that his face is right up against her centre. He places lingering delicate kisses all along the inside of her right thigh, and then her left. Agonizingly slow, teasing his way closer and closer to where she wanted him.

Once he’s run out of spots to kiss he’s finally at her core, and he introduces his tongue in one tentative lick right through her folds, tasting her even better now. Thankfully he’s got her hips pinned down with his hands or else they’d have sprung up off the bed.

“Fuck” she moans already, and that’s a good sign.

“Do you like that?” he asks, not playful or teasing, just genuine.

“So, so much” she affirms, and he dives right back in.

His tongue swiping between her folds, just grazing her clit every once in a while so that he could feel the way she squirmed beneath him. When he wraps his lips around her clit and begins to suck, with just the lightest pressure, she’s moaning so loud they’re probably going to get a noise complaint.

“Oh god, oh god” she starts to whine, “I think I’m close” she manages to force out. So he takes that as his queue to release his grip on one of her hips so that he can slowly push one of his long fingers deep inside of her. The stimulation from it, coupled with his lips in between her legs is enough to kill her she thinks.

Before she can think about it she’s cumming around him, on him, her hands fisting the sheets for any kind of purchase. Unable to control the moans the ripped through her.

When Spencer reappears from beneath her skirt a moment later his lips and chin are glistening, and there’s a dopey smile on his face, so she can do nothing else but pull him down on top of her for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. She wonders for a second if this turned Spencer on as much as it turned her on.

“Spencer” she breathes once they’ve broken apart, “that was amazing.”

“Yeah?” he looks at her, and delighted is the only word to describe his expression.

“Yeah” she tells him and he doesn’t miss a beat before he's on her again, diving in and placing feverish kisses all along her neck, down her collar bone, right to the cleavage that’s just exposed at the neckline of her dress. He starts to pull down the straps on her shoulders, doing anything he can to get it off her without having to move from his position, so perfectly situated on top of her.

“Spencer” she giggles, pulling his face up out of her chest, “What ever happened to dinner?

“We’re already 9 minutes late” he just laughs, “fuck dinner” and he dives back in. And she can’t fight him on that one. He’s sick of working around the fabric of her dress so he sits up the the bed and pulls her up with him.

“We’ve gotta get this off” he says, frantically searching for the zipper, and she wants to laugh at his eagerness, and she would, if she weren’t just as excited to be undressed. She has to help him find the zipper at her side so that he can slide it down. The dress goes slack around her just enough that he can pull it off over her head.

And now she’s just lying down in front of him in nothing but a bra and he thinks he might pass out. It’s a pretty one, white, and lacy, with a little satin bow in-between the cups. It’s so gorgeous against her skin that he almost wishes he hadn’t taken her panties off earlier. So that he could properly admire the whole set.

“I like this” he bites his lip, “I like it a lot” she doesn’t have to ask ‘what’ he’s looking so unashamedly at her breasts that she can’t mistake it.

“I bought it for you” she gazes up at him. And it makes this heart melt, she’d bought it for him, for him to see, to touch, to admire, to remove. “Can we take off your clothes now?” she asks then, and he feels stupid that they’re still on. He was so caught up in looking at her he’d almost forgotten he was even there. So he moves quickly, hopping up for a moment to rid himself of his clothes.

Once he’s in front of her in nothing but his boxers she starts to feel nervous again. She’s seen his cock before, she’s held it, tasted it, but this time was different. This time it was going to be inside of her. What if he didn’t like it, what if she was bad at all of this and he hated it.

He takes them off so that she can see just how hard he is, flushed and leaking, so excited to be with her. And it should feel reassuring, but it just feels like pressure. Pressure to be good.

Once he’s hovering over her again, his mouth working against hers as his hands work to unclasp her bra he can feel the hesitation in her kiss, in her touch. So he stops, and he pulls back.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” he says, his voice laced with equal parts love and concern.

She thinks for a moment before she speaks, “I just don’t want it to be bad for you” she whispers, like she’s embarrassed. And he can do nothing to contain the shock that spreads across his features.

“It could never be!” he rushes out, “This could be the worst sex of all time, and it would still be the best sex of my life, because it’s with you”

She softens immediately, he always knew exactly what to say to put her at ease. To comfort her so completely. So she pulls him back down to connect their lips once again. This time with the passion that she usually did, no apprehension, no worry.

And they stay like that for a few more minutes, him on top of her, their mouths moving against one another. With her bra on the floor his hands caressed and squeezed her bare breasts, fingers gently teasing her nipples in a way that made her gasp.

He has to climb off of her to get a condom from his bag, and for the brief moment that his warmth is gone she misses it more than she ever thought possible. When he returns to the bed, foil wrapper in hand she’s excited. This was it.

“Can I—” she starts, “can I put it on?” she asks sheepishly. And honestly he’s confused, but he hands her the wrapper anyway. She rips open the foil and pulls out the condom. Holding it in one hand as she grips his cock with the other, pumping it gently, softly gliding up and down the length a few times. She leans down into his lap for just a moment and licks up the underside of it, leaving an ever so slight kiss at the tip where it was leaking. Then she starts to slide the condom down his length, all the way down, so, so, slowly until it was at the base. No one had ever put a condom on him but himself, and he had no idea it could’ve been that hot the whole time.

He pulls her in for an appreciative kiss, pushing her back down on the bed so that he was on top of her once again.

“Can you, um— can you be on top?” she asks, biting her lip and looking up at him.

“Of course, whatever you want.” he whispers, “You’ve got to tell me if you don’t like something, or if you’re in pain, or not comfortable, or if you just want me to stop for any reason. Okay?” he asks, so sincere, and so full of love. And she’s so unbelievably happy that she waited for Spencer.

“It’s usually more comfortable and enjoyable if the woman has already cum once during the session, so you should be relaxed, but I’ll go slow.” she nods up at him.

“I’m ready” she sucks in a deep breath and pulls him in by his neck to kiss him, her lips open on his right away as she delves her tongue into his mouth. The taste of her arousal still lingering on his tongue. He pushes in while their mouths are still connected and he can feel her short gasp against his lips. She lets out a small wince at the sensation and it breaks his heart just a little.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?”

“No, no! It just takes a little getting used to, you can keep going” she reassures him. And it does hurt a little, but it’s more like pressure. A pressure she hadn’t felt before. He pushes further in, and further in, and further in, until he’s completely inside of her, as deep as he can go. He moves so slowly so that she can take her time getting used to the feeling.

And if he was honest with himself he needed time to adjust too. She was so tight and warm around him, and whenever he’s still he can feel her clench around his length. He’d forgotten just how good this felt. Or maybe it had never felt quite this good before.

He keeps still inside of her, leaning down to litter her neck with kisses. Giving her time, she seemed to be enjoying it a little more now, biting her lip as she looks up at him.

“That feels so good Spencer” she moans out, her fingernails digging into his back as he raises up to look at her, “Does it feel good for you?” she says, and he almost can’t believe she’d even have to ask.

“It feels perfect. You feel perfect, so tight and wet” he lowers down so he can moan it right into her ear and that does something to her.

“I think you can start moving now?” she says

“Are you sure?” he asks and she nods, enthusiastic. And so he starts to move, slow and deliberate, long deep thrusts in and out of her. It doesn’t take long before she really seems to like it, adjusting to the feeling faster than she thought she would. Her legs come up to wrap around him, heels digging into his back to pull him close.

And they’re both moaning in tandem this time, moving together, breathing in sync, becoming one whole in every sense of the word. When she started to squirm beneath him, her hands gripping at his shoulders, his neck, wherever she could, he almost couldn't believe it. She was close.

So he put one hand on the headboard to steady himself and slipped the other down, skimming it along her torso before settling it right in-between her thighs. Circling her clit with his finger, faster and faster to match the speed of his thrusts as he tried to continue pumping in and out of her.

“Spencer, I think I’m—” she moans out, breathless and perfect, “Ah fuck! Right there!”

“That’s it baby” he hums, comforting and reassuring, his hands and his cock continuing their movements, working her closer and closer, “Cum for me.”

A second later she’s writhing beneath him, her back arching up off the bed, her nails digging so hard into his back that it hurt. “Fuck! Spencer!” she cries out as he works her through her high. It only takes another moment or two before he’s there himself, releasing inside of her, and the feeling is indescribable.

He pulls out of her slowly, taking care not to hurt her, when he’s sure she looks comfortable he allows himself to finally lay down on top of her. Collapsing softly, and resting his head on her bare chest.

On instinct she moves her hands to his hair, it’s just a little sweaty but she combs her fingers through it anyway. He was so beautiful.

“That was—” she wants to tell him, but she’s got no words, none that would do it any justice.

“Just the beginning.” he finishes for her.

— —

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[bambiswriting]

Consequence of Krell - Part 2

Part: 1, 2

Captain Rex x Tactician!Reader (she/her)

Summary: You have joined the 501st and 212th in the campaign of taking Umbara, and now you have to apprehend and arrest the turned Jedi, Krell. But what happens when Krell turns his sights and hurts you?

Warnings: This chapter really gets into heavy injury descriptions, and the treatment of them. Strangulation, choking, vomit, blood, fluid, burns, lightsaber wound, head injury, angst, hurt.

Word count: 1k

-

The fight in the skies continued to rage on as Rex and the others left the brig, having immobilised and contained Krell. 

A trooper approached. "Captain, we've repaired the transmitter." 

Rex exhaustively held a hand out to halt the clone, who was standing to attention. Rex's entire body felt heavy, and the mere action of lifting an arm was feeling like a chore. "Is there any word on Lieutenant (L/N)?" 

"Yes, sir. Kix has requested your assistance."

The airbase was used as a supply line, obtaining and manufacturing weapons and ships to be sent to the capital. There was no medical bay, and so Kix had to set up what would be the most sterile environment within one of the smaller rooms, where the higher standing officers rested, to treat the wounded. Namely, you. 

They entered the room and were struck by a metallic tang which intruded upon Rex's senses. A clone passed them on the way out, eyes glazed over with his hands limply by his sides. They were liberally coated in blood.

Each step forward was enunciated by a drag of his feet. He knew Fives, Jesse and Tup were behind him. He could just about recognise their footsteps sluggishly pulling them along, too. Getting closer, Rex could decipher the partition Kix had rushed to assemble around the back end of the room was put together with bacta sheets - whatever the medic could use to reduce the risk of infection and bacteria filtering in, he supposed.

The noise of your crying slammed into him then, and grew louder the closer he walked. Wordless, animalistic howls of fear and pain swerved together and had him stalling in his tracks. He could feel his blood growing cold, hitting deep in his chest and spreading outwards. He wanted to run - be encased in the image of you before the campaign, when the two of you were wrapped in the solitude of your quarters - where all he had to think about was the warmth of your hands and the way your smile glowed. But you needed him. He needed you. Whatever he was feeling, he had to bury it. 

There was a small refresher system against the wall that was for the workers to wash up at the end of the day. He removed his helmet, shed the space below his elbow of armour plates, rolled up his sleeves, removed his gloves and began to scrub. He worked under the nails, around his elbows and between his fingers. He scrubbed until his arms were red, sore and bitingly cold. His breathing was turning ragged and uncontrolled. The others exchanged looks of concern beneath the hard set lines around their eyes. Jesse was hugging himself and flinching every time you cried out, with Tup patting him solidly on the back. 

"Rex…" Tup started, but Rex had already stepped wordlessly behind the curtains. 

You were turned away from him, rolled on your side. Kix had bacta patches in one hand as he tried to hold you still with the other. He turned to Rex upon hearing the curtain flap open and closed. "I can't keep her still long enough to treat her wounds." 

Rex nodded firmly as he moved closer to round your form. Over Kix's shoulder, he could see the saber wound struck across your back. It was on a diagonal, along large sections of where your spine would be. And he hoped to the Force that it would allow the attack to not leave your body permanently altered. The laceration was deep, some areas cauterised but others reopened from being thrown into the wall, continuously bleeding. 

Jesse, Tup and Fives all filtered into the room. Rex moved around the makeshift operating table to face you. Both of your hands were shaking uncontrollably, one trying to force Kix away and recoil. Your entire body was moving in tremors. A ventilator mask was over your mouth and nose, rapidly filling with steam as you inhaled in your blind panic and cleared on exhales of anguish. Your eyes were pierced open, and when they fell on Rex he felt his legs tempting themselves to collapse. The others froze in place until Kix barked an order at them. 

Rex crouched down beside your face. He went onto autopilot. He grasped tightly to your trembling fist and stroked a hand across your face. His hand came away with blood due to the untreated wound along your hairline. It wasn't the priority injury. 

"I'm here. I'm right here." 

"Hold her down." 

Fives, Tup and Jesse obeyed, holding firm on your legs and around the area of the lightsaber strike. 

"Just focus on me." 

The temporary quiet was gone. Kix pressed down hard. Your chest shattered in a broken screech.

"Keep her still!" 

You thrashed around, batting your arm between Fives and Jesse in a desperate attempt to escape.

Kix firmly blotted the area free of excess blood and fluid and flushed the length of your back with the majority of the bacta his kit was stocked with. The antiseptic liquid burned in the raw wound, and was then immediately swamped by bacta patches and a forceful weight along your spine. Rex’s heart throbbed as you let out a petrified croaky wail. 

The medic looked up at his brothers. "Apply pressure here," to which there was no response. "Now!" He barked, and Jesse jumped into action. “Don’t let go until I tell you to.” 

Rex’s forehead was rock solid in a clench. He pressed it to yours. He was surely biting through his lip, but he kissed over your bloodshot eyes and your cheeks that were spilling over with tears. You sobbed breathlessly, throat raw. 

Rex had never once doubted Kix's ability to do his job right, just as Kix had full faith in Rex's ability to lead his brothers. But right now, he couldn't control the bite clawing its way up. 

"Why does she need to be awake for this? You have sedation."

Kix was used to civilians making a stink, questioning his training as a clone or asking persistent questions about the wellbeing of their loved ones. He knew how to take the anger, because he understood where it rooted from. He knew it wasn’t directed at him.

Kix maintained a calm demeanor with his vod. “I don’t know the extent of the damage on her throat. The fact she’s making any noise is a good thing, but if I use sedation, her breathing will be harder to observe. It already sounds obstructed.”

Rex’s fist balled up. “Is there nothing you can give her?” 

“I’ve given her a stim for the pain.” Kix signalled the bag he was rifling around in. “It’s a field kit. She needs treatment at a medbay, but until we’re off-world, there’s not much else to do. I'm doing the best I can, given the circumstances." 

Rex slammed his hand against the table. "You're not doing enough!"

The others flinched. 

You whimpered, and his expression immediately crumpled in shame. “Kix, I’m… I’m sorry.”

He nodded, face unchanged from before his superior’s outburst. “None taken, Captain.”

-

-

-

A/N: I want to say a massive thank you so much for the response to the last chapter! It’s made me so happy to know that people are invested in this! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and more will be coming soon!

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[loostssoul]

if you kissed me - Rodrick Heffley | 1.9k

Yeah yeah i know i haven't written since a million years ago. and yeah yeah i know this is my first real fanfiction i posted on tumblr. fair warning, i'm not the best writer, i honestly just do this for fun and i'm totally up to criticism because i do want to make my writing better. if this is literally inaccurate, im sorry its been like 5 years since i've read the books. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff-fest that I created in the span of a few hours.

paring: rodrick x reader genre: fluff. lots of fluff

Credits to the maker of the picture! 15 Days till the Contest | 9:42 PM, Saturday

Plick, plick, plick

My speakers were blasting so loud I almost didn’t hear the sound of pebbles hitting my window.

Plick, plick, plick

I rubbed my eyes and slammed my laptop shut, walking toward my bedroom window. Peering down, I saw a figure a few yards down from my second-story bedroom, looking back up at me. Dark brown, messy hair that stuck up around his face. A red and black flannel, black ripped jeans, and, (of course) a tee-shirt with “Loded Diper” clumsily written on it. A grin spread on his face as he saw my face come into his view, causing me to blush. Rodrick Heffley, Crossland High bad boy, and my boyfriend.

I unlocked the latch to my window and stuck my head out, taking in the cool air and letting the neighbors enjoy the music I was playing (they never did). I looked down.

“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled

“Evening, Heffley.”

“I need to tell you something!”

“What’s so important that you have to scratch my window instead of using the power of modern technology to call me?”

His mouth opened to give me a response, but nothing came out. I smirked, “Come on up.”

I opened the window wider as he climbed the trellis that lined the back of my house. I backed up to my door and locked it. Precautions, my parents liked Rodrick but they definitely wouldn’t approve of him in my room at night. I looked back and I saw him, every feature of him illuminated by the light of my room. His cheeky smile and chocolate brown eyes. He slowly closed the window and walked toward me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. I still got butterflies whenever he touched me.

“Hey, Spiderman. What did ya climb in here to tell me?” I asked

“I got Loded Diper into a contest.”

My eyes widened, Loded Diper, my boyfriend’s rock band, wasn’t exactly known for being the best. It was mostly known for his mom’s insane dance moves during the Plainview Talent Show. But of course, i'll never say that in front of his face.

“You did?! That’s awesome Rodrick!”

“Yeah! It's a battle of the bands contest, we’re going against two other bands. I really think this is gonna be our big break!” His eyes sparkled in excitement.

His happiness was contagious, he was like a goddamn puppy. I pulled him into my arms. “I’m proud of you Rod.” I muttered and smiled into his collarbone. I felt him inhale the scent of my hair and twirl my locks around his fingers.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the hug. “I’m having practice tomorrow with the band, you wanna come?”

“Sure. I go to every practice anyway, why miss out on this one?” I shrugged.

He chuckled and looked at me. Really looked at me. That’s one of the reasons why I fell for him. It never seemed like it, but he paid attention. We’ve only been dating for 4 months, but he knew me like no one else did, and I knew that in the way he looked at me. I felt his hand cup my face, his thumb rubbing my cheek in small circles. I looked up at him, noticing how tall he was, how close he was. Was I the one who leaned in? Was he the one who leaned in? Did we just do it subconsciously? Did he want this? Was he ready? Was I ready?

The ringing of Rodrick’s phone filled the room. The daze we were trapped in was gone and we separated, our faces red. Rodrick picked up the phone, it was his mom.

“Yeah, mom? Mom...I’m in the middle of something. I’ll do laundry later, ok? Now? C’mon… Alright, fine. Bye.” He hung up. “Sorry, I gotta blast.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked him as he started toward my window.

He looked back at me and planted a kiss on my forehead, the farthest we’ve ever gone with physical touch as a couple.

“Tomorrow”

~~✰✰✰~~

14 Days till the Contest | 1:22 PM, Saturday afternoon

“Should we take it from the top?”

Practice wasn’t going so well. I could feel the nervousness, the tension. Drums were slightly off beat, the guitarist’s fingers would fly to the wrong places on the fretboard, lyrics would go all over the place. The contest was two weeks away, and Loded Diper was already feeling the anxiousness. I sat on the floor of the garage, on top of a picnic blanket I found. To Rodrick’s dismay, his mom forced him to let Greg watch band practice, as a form of “brother-to-brother bonding time.” Greg sat next to me, mockingly covering his ears.

“Oh thank god, it's done.” Greg said with an immense amount of sarcasm and uncovering his ears.

Rodrick threw a crumpled-up piece of paper at his head, “Shut up.”

“Both of you, be nice.” I laughed. “I think you guys should take a break for a while, maybe shake off the nerves.”

“Good idea Y/N, 20 minute break everyone!” The lead singer said. Everyone spread out, grabbing a piece of pizza ordered earlier and laying down. Greg ran out of the garage, yelling, “I’m free!”

Rodrick stood up and began gulping down a bottle of water. He wore a black tanktop and black ripped jeans, sweat dripping down his forehead. I ran up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso. He turned and faced me, running his hands through my hair, lost in thought.

“You ok, Rod?” I asked him.

He sighed, “nerves”

I leaned my head on his chest, “You’re gonna do great, you’ve done so many gigs in the past. Think of this as one of those!”

He smiled at me, “You know what would make me feel a lot less nervous?”

“Oh god. What?”

A really common thing Rodrick did was try to bargain a kiss on the lips from me. It's been an ongoing joke, a meaningless bit he did all the time. I’ll do my homework if you kissed me on the lips. I’ll smile in the picture if you kissed me on the lips. It still hasn’t worked.

“I might be less nervous if you kissed me on the lips.” He whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, “If that’s what it takes then I think you’ll lose the competition.”

He let go of me and laughed, my favorite laugh. “Worth a try.” He shrugged, going off to join his bandmates and the pizza. But as I watched him smile and laugh with his friends, I lost myself. I thought about the previous night. The way we fit into each other, the closeness, the fact that was so close that I could see my reflection in his eyes.

Maybe I should just say yes.

~~✰✰✰~~

The Day of the Contest

For the past 2 weeks, Rodrick has given me the “kiss-bargain” joke 9 times. Every time, I deflected it with sarcastic remarks, and every time I regretted not agreeing.

I sat on the front steps of my porch, waiting for Rodrick to pick me up. I regretted the jean shorts and plain black tee-shirt I had on, as a cold breeze brushed my skin. I pulled my black leather jacket on, which I painted “Loded Diper” on the back in white paint. Then, I heard it. The echo of heavy metal turned to full blast, and… the faint sound of something big getting knocked over. Oh god, they’re here. The white van with “Loded Diper” written in huge words screeched to a halt in front of my house.

The window rolled down, revealing my boyfriend and his excited grin. “Get in.”

~~✰✰✰~~

30 minutes till Loded Diper preforms

It felt surreal to be backstage, and really exciting. Energy was flowing through the room, as all the other bands talked and played. The rest of the band members seemed excited, full of adrenaline. Except for Rodrick, he’s been nervous ever since soundcheck. His leg was bouncing,he twirled his drumsticks around, drumming them on random objects, and his eyes stared into nothing.

“Rodrick, you want me to do your eyeliner?”

“Huh?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the ground, his voice seemed far away.

I lifted a liquid eyeliner pen I had in my pocket, “Eyeliner. I just did mine, we can match!”

He lifted his head and noticed me. I had my eyeliner smudged, just like he always does during a gig. He grinned, “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

I’ve done his eyeliner many times in the past, and I loved doing it because I had to be as close to him as possible. So I hopped onto his lap, pressing myself close to him, trying to comfort him with my warmth.

“Close your eyes.” I ordered.

As I applied his eyeliner, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was heavy, and fast. I’m pretty sure I would still hear it if I wasn’t as close to him as I was, even though the loud music blasting through the theatre.

“Done”

He opened his eyes, and butterflies flooded my stomach. We were close. Very close. Should I do it? Should I lean in?

Rodrick probably sensed my flustered-ness. He smirked, “Cat got your tongue?”

I rolled my eyes, blushing hard. “Shut up.” I said, playfully punching him.

~~✰✰✰~~

“5 Minutes until Loded Diper performs!” A man exclaimed to us.

Rodrick was as nervous as ever. We’ve been standing on the left wing of the stage, watching the other bands play. It felt like a bunch of Loded Diper copy-pastes. A bunch of high schoolers, weird names, very aggressive playing. But they were still pretty good. Rodrick was biting the nails of one of his hands and tapping his other hand on the wall behind him. I looked up at him and held his hand, stopping it from fidgeting. He smiled nervously.

Now or never Y/N…

“Hey, you said that if I kiss you, you won’t be as nervous. Right?”

He looked at me, wide eyed. He seemed to be trying to compute what I said.

I stood on tiptoe and put his face in my hands. It was that night all over again. Every detail of his face, of him was in full view. His eyes, his eyeliner, his scent, his lips. I leaned in.

His lips were soft against mine, but they were tense, flustered. I was terrified, It was the wrong place, the wrong time. Until I felt one hand in my hair, another on my waist, pulling me closer.

How long was the kiss? A few seconds? It felt like minutes, hours. Sparked ignited. Butterflies flew in my stomach. His scent was the only thing I smelled, his warmth was the only thing I felt. The music faded away. Everything faded away. It was just him and I. Until we broke apart, taking in deep breaths of each other. We wanted more, but Loded Diper was playing in a few seconds.

“Hey, Rodrick.”

“Yeah?”

“If you win I’ll kiss you again”

We both knew I would kiss him regardless.

I didn't edit this because editing is for wimps (just kidding be responsible and edit your work)

please like and reblog because it gives me serotonin and i need that