#only a very select few have ever gotten away with it

[greyturned]

If your muse ever finds out his full first name is Benjamin I dare them to call him Benji

[areislol]

genshin men getting reverse isekai’d into creator! reader’s world

►— pairings. genshin men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. fluff, although it is a gender neutral reader it does mention afab reader, lowercase intended, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️

►— synopsis. albedo created a machine where it would bring back their creator, who was stuck in another world, back to where they belong. but instead of bringing you here to them, it brought them to where you were.

►— a/n. i have been meaning to write isekai’d or reverse isekai’d fic for SO long but i’ve been busy and procrastinating so 😢 this is sagau!!

►— wordcount. 3.8k

✧ part one | ✧ part two | ✧ part three | ✧ part four | ✧ part five |more tba.. NAVIGATION

at first, it was the genshin men who wanted you to be transported into their world. you know.. the world you’re familiar with. but somehow albedo’s machine malfunctioned and did the opposite of what it was supposed to do.

it was a normal day, well for the residents of teyvat who were just minding their own business, but not for the men who had gave away nearly all of their mora for albedo’s machine to work.

a very selected few men from each region gathered to mondstadt (sometimes it took a few days for a week to arrive there but they were determined to arrive there faster as they didn’t want to waste time).

kaeya, diluc, venti and albedo from mondstadt gathered were anticipating for the day albedo would put out the news that the machine would finally work. everyday when they had spare time or whenever they could, they would vist albedo in dragonspine and check up on the machine and ask for the good news

if albedo needed anything or needed some mora (or if he needed someone to run errands for him) they would happily oblige, anything for their grace.

zhongli, xiao, baizhu from liyue would anticipate for the news ever since they had gotten the information and letter from albedo himself as well from jean about the machine that would supposedly bring the creator to their world.

they immediately started to help with whatever they could, even travelling to mondstadt to see if there was anything they could help or provide with, if nothing they would stay for however long they could and watch albedo work on it, fiddling with their fingers or twisting their articles of clothing from anticipation, trying to hold back their excitement and joy of finally meeting their creator.

zhongli is one of the few who were your oldest worshippers, in his prime he would sculpt many statues of you, based on what the scripts had described of what the creator looked like and he was sure that it was one his most best work in his lifetime.

zhongli definitely gave albedo all of his mora, not caring if he needed them to buy food to eat, why worry about that when he has something else to prioritise? all he needed was you, to survive.

kazuha, itto, gorou, ayato, heizou and thoma from inazuma was ecstatic at the news of your soon arrival!! they spent their minutes, hours and days filled with excitement and could not focus on anything.

although ayato was calm and collected, there was no denying that deep inside he was freaking out like c’mon? the creator is finally descending? after thousands of years? and they expect him to be calm? no way.

all gave albedo and sucrose their up most help. giving him materials that would only be found in their region and not in mondstadt, for the machine. in their spare time they would fight the enemies and gather whatever they dropped and send it to albedo in the hopes that it would be a major help to the machine (it was and albedo sent his thanks in a letter).

cyno, al-haitham, kaveh, wanderer and tighnari from sumeru was shocked to say the least, at first they were wary of the news. i mean of course they believed in you, and the story of your descent but at the same time how could they trust this.. albedo person? but after getting the letter inviting them to dragonspine to see the machine for themselves and to see his blueprints, notes and so on, they agreed and once arriving, they definitely believed him.

after confirming that everything was real, they began to team up with albedo (if he allowed them but albedo was more than happy for some help as he was getting tired just from doing majority of the things with sucrose..) and helping him. kaveh was an architect so he helped albedo with the model of the machine and with al-haithams, tighnari and wanderer’s knowledge they began to make the machine more safe and reliable.

they’re all very happy and overjoyed knowing that soon they will bring their creator back to where they belong, just knowing the fact that they will soon be able to see and witness their grace in their glory and flesh was everything.

lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley, freminet and aether from fontaine was more than ecstatic upon hearing the news. lyney started to practise more with his magic tricks, trying to add more action and more of the surprise factor in his tricks so that he could impress you and hear you praise him.

neuvillette almost cried tears of joy (and flooded fontaine) at the letter albedo sent to him. just looking at the sentence “we will be able to see our grace soon, please help in anyway you can.” made his eyes water.

he started to mentally and physically prepare himself for your arrival, making sure to look his best and presentable, while also preparing for how he would greet you. a bow would do- no.. a bow where his forehead touched the ground, yes, that will do. he couldn’t wait for your arrival (even explaining to the very excited melusines too about his profound love and adoration for you).

neuvillette admired you from hundreds of years ago, hearing your stories and heroic acts made him fall more in love with you. he goes to your temple (that he made by himself) and prays every day before going to bed.

wriothesley, freminet and aether on the other hand was more calm although nervous at the same time. wriothesley (and everyone else) had heard many great stories about you, the great power you hold like no other, your kindness, your hospitality, your beauty—everything. so there was nothing else he wanted than to witness you in the flesh, although he is scared what your beauty may blind him.

aether is also anticipating your arrival, when he was younger his parents would tell him the great stories about you and how the elements came about, not only that but he has a hunch that you could possibly help him find his sister, no.. he’s positive you will.

and from the other regions, childe, capitano, dottore, pantalone, pierro and dainsleif were almost going batshit crazy once word spread that the creator was going to be teleported into their world from albedo’s machine. dainsleif could feel it in him, he could feel the shift in teyvat, the way the trees and nature around him started to be more responsive and grow more large and.. prettier?

the fatui had paused all of their plans and focused soley on you, their creator. they wanted to make sure that the archons or anyone else doesn’t reach you but.. that would be diffcult considering that a non fatui was creating this machine along with the help with so many different people from different regions.

they had always worshipped you and was hopelessly devoted to you, giving you gifts right below your statue, sometimes even ranting to you about their problems and how the archons were absolutely useless.

dainsleif was.. consumed with many emotions. he believed that he was one of your most devoted and the most loyal of them all followers. he believed that your word was law and whatever you ordered him to do or whatever order you give to anyone, they should obey. and if not he would love nothing more than to deal with them, anything for you.

altogether, they all (reluctantly cough cough the fatui, diluc, tighnari and wanderer cough cough) helped cooperate with bringing you back to the world you belong in, giving albedo thousands and millions of mora, any material from their home region, their support and so on. that was how devoted they were to you.

and finally, the day albedo and sucrose sent out all of letters telling them that the machine was ready, everybody came scurrying to dragonspine, their hearts racing in an inhumane beat, once they all arrived they were swearing BULLETS and albedo offered them all towels since he knew none of them would like to be presented to the almight creator looking… sweaty.

everybody stood around the machine, their eyes shining with excitement and their hearts beating from nervousness, and on the count to three, albedo would turn the notch and whatever came next, well, they would just have to cross their fingers and pray.

“1..”

“2..”

“3..!”

albedo turned the notch on the machine and within a milisecond a bright light had appeared, blinding everyone as they quickly raised their arm to cover their eyes.

some started to cough as smoke filled the room, many yelling in confusion, yelling on top of their lungs if it worked to which no one replied of course, they couldn’t open their eyes nor felt anything different until their bodies started to feel all gooey like they were melting. their vision (despite covering their eyes) was going white, their mind was foggy and they were dizzy.

but after a few seconds they felt better, they felt like they were in a different place, they could sense it.. after waving their hands away to clear the smoke and before they knew it, they were in a totally different room and place. they were inside of a room, not a room from their world, their was unknown technology on a desk that they have never seen before. there was unknown stuff all around them.

they all looked around in confusion, taking in everything. “where are we?” “what is this place” “are we going to meet our grace?”

suddenly, zhongli spotted someone on the bed, sleeping calmly despite all of the ruckus they had caused. zhongli shushed everybody to which some scowled at (wanderer mainly) and before they could argue back, he pointed at you.

pointing at the sleeping figure on the bed wanderer immediately shut his mouth. it was dark so they couldn’t make out your face but no worries! your phone just lit up and everybody looked at it, curious at the light device. kazuha paid no mind to it and grabbed the strange device before shining it on your face. his breath hitched, stumbling back just a bit.

everybody else looked at your face and was stunned. their voice caught in their throats as they finally, finally saw you, their grace.

your beauty was like no other, even the little drool seeping out of the corner of your lips were adorable!

some started to sob quietly, too overwhelmed with their feelings and with the fact that they just saw their creator (neuvillette, lyney, childe and zhongli a little bit..). while everyone else was murmuring under their breaths about what they should do, you were sleepinf peacefully. and everytime you moved in your sleep everybody would tense up and hold their breaths, scared to wake you up (and scare you in you did).

but after a few minutes you did wake up, to their horror and fascination. you rubbed your eyes and looked around groggily and through the seeping moonlight through your blinds you could make out the many black silhouettes in your room, surrounding you.

freaking out, you held your breath and tried to calm yourself down, telling you that your mind was playing tricks on you but after gulping and turning on your lamp to just reassure you it was nothing, you saw many men surrounding you, wincing at the sudden light.

your jaw dropped before screaming absolute bloody murder, grabbing your pillows and (your poor) plushies and throwing it at the unknown men in your room, closing your eyes shut you prayed to god that this was just a dream when someone spoke.

his voice was dreamy and so soft although deep, like silk. it flowed smoothly like running water.

“are you alright, your grace?”

your what? opening your eyes, you could see that some of the men were grabbing a hold of your plushies while some were on the floor, meaning some did get hid while some others didn’t.

wait a minute.. as you took a closer look at the people you realise that it’s…

“zhongli..?” you mumbled, squinting your eyes to see if it was really him and there was no doubt it was really him. you could see his eyes lighting up, he seemed really happy that you said his name, it was sort of cute.

that was when childe and heizou along with others pushed zhongli, trying to get your attention as they called you their “grace” and acted really really happy to see you.

observing everyone you soon realise that all of these men are all from the very famous game you play—genshin impact. “w-wait a minute.. zhongli-“ you point at him, he nods with a tender smile, you could only smile back nervously, totally unaware of the death glares zhongli was getting.

“heizou, childe, thoma, dainsleif, xiao.. holy crap!” your eyes widen and you hop off your bed, slipping on your slippers are you look at everyone else. “this isn’t real…” you mumbled, holding your head with one of your hands. looking around once more you felt the very intense gazes of the very handsome men staring you down.

your cheeks flushed red as you took in the fact that these handsome men are fighting for your attention, and are literally standing in your room and just.. there!!

walking back into your room, you yank the mattress with all your strength when dainsleif and xiao walked up to you, offering you help to which you shake your head at. “no i’m good, thank you though!”

everybody was waiting patiently for you as you set down the mattress.

“okay.. you guys can sit and sleep there for now.. now tell me what happened. as far as i know you two aren’t from this world, obviously because you are all from genshin impact! you know, the game?”

you said, sitting down on your bed as you watched some of them sit on the mattress while some stood beside the mattress.

they all nodded before albedo spoke. “you see, your grace, we intended to bring you back to our world because that is where you belong—the world you created.” he began, looking into your eyes to look for any reaction.

your eyes widened at his words. “me..?” you said in disbelief. “oh.. uh continue!” albedo continued on.

“and we spent many months working on the machine, and today i had finished it, i called everybody else who are in your room and i turned the notch, and there was blinding light, and then we were in your room.”

you nod your head at his words, taking in the information. “i’m just as confused as you are, your grace.” albedo reassures you, you could only give him a small smile before speaking again.

“listen i’m just.. i’m confused on why you’re you know.. calling me ‘your grace’.. i mean i understand the formalities and all but..”

zhongli and neuvillette raises their brow. “that is because, you are our creator, you created the elements, giving us visions, you carved the very world we live on, teyvat.” zhongli explains.

furrowing your brows, you tried to understand him, you really did but, you just couldn’t imagine yourself doing all of those great things zhongli explained to you.

“listen.. you probably have the wrong person and-“ “no,” everybody whips their towards dainsleif, giving him a scowl for him daring to cut their creator off.

“i can feel like, you are our creator, you.. this feeling you give me, to us, is other worldly, please.. your grace, believe me.”

dainsleif pleads, his eye(s?) staring deep into your soul, begging for you to understand. and to be honest you felt yourself getting lost in his eyes, it was tempting you and… you gave in.

gulping you closed your eyes and sighed. “i-.. fine, i may not believe that i was capable of doing all of those mountain moving stuff but i will.. you know.. just call me y/n.”

all of their eyes widen from surprise. kaveh breaks the mumurs of the men among him. “y-you would give us the honor to call you by your real name? i’m afraid we can no-“

“nuh uh, no need to call me ‘your grace’ anymore, it feels weird being called something so high..” you cut kaveh off and you could hear the collective, audible gasps from around you.

venti, heizou and kaveh (who were standing beside the mattress) basically launched themselves onto you, almost crying from happiness of the fact that you were allowing them to call you by your name.

“oh your grac- no, y/n!! it would be such an honor to call you by your name!” venti cries, hugging your body as heizou and kaveh clinged onto your arms, tears brimming their eyes.

you could only laugh nervously at the sudden affection and pat venti on the back, when you realized that this was a one in a life time experience where you actually meet these handsome (fictional but not anymore) men so you decide to hug venti back, patting his back.

“i-it’s all good venti but uh.. you’re squeezing me a bit too hard..” you managed to get out, tapping him on his arm. venti pulled back and smiled sheepishly. “oops..”

venti, heizou and kaveh got a good scolding from zhongli and dainsleif about jumping on the creator like that.

it was starting to get a bit hot and stuffy in your room so you decided to get up (with kaveh still clinging onto your arm) and walk over to the window and opening it up. feeling the cool breeze hit your face you sighed with satisfaction.

turning back around you saw all men staring right back at you. right.. you still had 23 men in your room. “uh.. so, are you guys thirsty?” you said nervously, offering them a small smile. it was your first time having a guy over at your room let alone 23!!

you don’t even know why you offered them water, you just wanted to ease the awkwardness.

they all nodded and you nod your head, making your way to the door and you could feel them staring holes into the back of your skull.

“i’ll go get some water, i don’t know if i have 23 glasses though..” and as you walked out of your room you could hear many footsteps following behind you, through the hallway and into the kitchen.

sighing, you crouched down to the cabinets and opened it, grabbing as many cups as you can. there was only 10. geez, who knew those “best child in the world” and “best co worker in the world!” would come in handy? you had 5 each, filling each of them up with cold water before passing it to thoma, xiao, neuvillette, wanderer, al-haitham, and a few others.

they were all fighting over who would get the last cup since you held that cup, it was special.

“‘kay, once you’re done drinking just wash and pour another cup for the others okay? here’s the tap and here’s the water jug.” you pointed to the water jug and once they gave you a nod of acknowledgment, you made your way back to the bedroom with zhongli following right behind you.

soon, everybody else came into your room, talking amongst one another. you plopped down on your bed and took a deep breath, taking in everything.

you were sleeping peacefully, woken up to 23 handsome men in your room, threw pillows at them, sat down and talked to them about their situation, offered them water and a place to sleep. yeah.. what a day.

“everything alright, your- y/n? i know it’s a lot to take in i… i want to apologize. is there anything i or we can do to make it up to you?”

turning your head, you faced zhongli and smiled softly. “no, it’s okay, if anything im worried for you guys.. i mean how do you feel? you’re not home anymore and i don’t know how long it’ll be until you guys go back home.”

the men hum and agreement and started to question when they will come back home. that was until neuvillette spoke up.

“but, y/n, we worship you and devote our entire selves for you.. i mean yes we would miss our positions but being with you is much more meaningful.

hm. interesting.. you thought to yourself. they seem very fond and loyal to you. it was cute. yawning, you blinked away your sleepy tears and hummed, making yourself more comfortable in your bed.

“blankets and pillows are in the closet right behind the mattress, make yourself at home..” you mumbled sleepily. “if.. if there’s no more space then you can sleep with me, i can only fit two or three people.”

honestly, who on earth would offer that? but you couldn’t pass this opportunity with these handsome men!! so why not?

everybody’s eyes widen at this offer. some of them scrambling to get onto your bed to sleep by your side, dainsleif, zhongli and neuvillette were pulling back heizou and venti back onto the mattress, knowing they would probably be up to no good next to you.

the ones who managed to get on your bed was childe and xiao, yes, xiao. he wasn’t trying to fight for a spot though (kind of was..) but he accidentally pulled away kaveh instinctively and landed him a spot beside you!!

childe sighed happily and snuggled up close to you, while xiao laid on the bed motionless, it kind of scared you.

“it feels so nice to be by your side y/n~” he mumbled, holding onto your arm, xiao scowled at him—staring daggers at childe. “don’t be so jealous, you’re beside them too you know..”

xiao narrows his eyes before staring up at the ceiling again. even though it was dark you noticed how he seemed to be blushing, was xiao always this cute?

the rest of the men had to sleep on three different mattresses, some even sleeping on the floor because they refused to sleep beside some people. most people ignored itto because he snored, really.. really loudly. he kept you up until 3 am.

you knew you were way too calm when reacting to this situation but then again, you have been a big fan of genshin impact for years now.. and you were crushing on all of them!! you would always wish on the very same bed you’re sharing with childe and xiao, that you could meet them, even if it was in your dreams.

so now that you could actually feel, look and talk to them.. you decided to take this opportunity and try to become as close with them as possible.

even if they have to leave in the end, you want to create many happy memories.

> ✧ part two

note: THIS WAS SO RUSHED AND DOESNT MAKE SENSE I KNOW IM SORRY 😭😭 i promise next part will definitely be better ��🏻 as i said before this is not proof read so excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes 😢

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liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: I CAN ONLY ADD 30 TAGS? GOD

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Steve Harrington’s favorite smell was freshly made bread. Specifically banana bread. When he was younger his Mother and Grandmother would make some form of bread every Sunday morning for church. He remembers how the scent would move to his room, waking him up from a deep sleep.

During Christmas it was Cherry bread, during Halloween it was pumpkin. Sometimes if they got adventurous they would mix chocolate chips into it as well. That was most commonly for special occasions though.

After his grandmother passed away, there was no more bread. No more special occasions with chocolate chips. His mother stopped baking all together and stayed hidden in her bedroom. Her normal smell, a soft strawberry scent, changed rotten.

As Steve got older, when he presented as an omega, the smell of other Alphas was overwhelming to him. It was to strong. It wasn’t like the warm comforting smell of bread. He found himself always getting a headache instead.

Then, part way through the school year a smell started to hit him. One that reminded him of chocolate chip pumpkin bread. It wasn’t exactly that but it was close enough that Steve’s mouth and eyes began to water. He had to take a few minutes in the bathroom before he felt comfortable enough to not cry in math class.

As each day passed the smell started to get stronger, not in a bad way. It began to shift between scents as well. Some days it was chocolate pumpkin bread, others it was just pumpkin and then on rare occasions it would shift into mint chocolate chip. Steve was slowly beginning to realize it was rare for the chocolate smell to not be there, on whoever it was.

He assumes that the smell belonged to another omega, whom typically have sweeter smells. So he went to search for who it belonged to. It takes weeks to pin point a select few. It was between Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Tommy Hagen and a complete wild card, Eddie Munson. He can’t ever pin point who it was, and when the smell is near those were normally the people in the same room as him.

He discovers in math that Robin smells like bananas. Though she wasn’t the smell he was searching for his omega still wanted to be near her nothing-less. Then there was Nancy, who smelt like fresh mint. Similar to toothpaste. He wasn’t sure if that was the smell. Too nervous to go up to her, she was a smart and pretty alpha and he wasn’t the brightest omega around. Tommy Hagen smelt like cream soda, it attracted his omega up until he got closer. The smell would be too strong and he was quickly eliminated.

Finally it left him to Eddie Munson. The last person he needed to check. He moves himself awkwardly through the woods, nearly tumbling over a tree root here and there. When he finally makes it to the picnic table, the one he’s only heard about through passing teenagers. He could smell the faint smell of pumpkin. As if the person had been there moments prior.

Hesitant, he moves slowly. Looking around to make sure he wasn’t about to be jumped. He then sets his stuff down at the table, moving to sit like he had been told to by carol. Who’s gotten stuff from Munson in the past, and he waits.

It doesn’t take longer than ten minutes for the smell of fresh chocolate chip pumpkin bread to hit his face. His mouth watering a bit as he turns his head to see who it was coming from.

It was Eddie. Who was currently shoving half a brownie in his face, very ungracefully. Some of the chocolate smearing on the side of his mouth as he jumps startled. Like he had been caught red handed for theft. He tilts his head curiously before he begins to basically prance his way to the table with a chocolaty smile.

Nothing about the Alpha was coordinated. His limbs moved awkwardly, and he didn’t seem to be able to sit still. Even as he begins to talk his mouth was still full. Steve didn’t understand a word he said.

“What?” He asks shyly. Fidgeting with his shirt a bit. He was tempted to get up and leave. He now knew where the scent was coming from. Mystery solved. He could move on. But his omega wanted to stay. Stay wrapped in the comforting smell he has been seeking out for weeks.

Eddie’s face goes a soft red, swallowing the brownie before he coughs a little. Then clears his throat before trying again. “Sorry- I um.. just took an edible. Wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so I thought I would chill out here and enjoy the high.“ he laughs awkwardly.

Steve makes an oh face, moving to stand up. “Oh sorry, I can go. I don’t even know why I came out here. I uh-“ he starts to ramble out.

He was nervous. He doesn’t know why. He’s made numerous alphas almost cry from his bitchy remarks. Made sure that they knew he wasn’t some shy dumb omega looking for a knot. But here he was stumbling over himself like a moron. He wasn’t looking for a knot but his omega seemed to be without his knowledge.

Eddie’s face softens a bit before he stands up himself. Putting his hands forward. “No, no you don’t have to leave. I just didn’t expect royalty is all. What can I do for you?”

Steve bites his lip realizing he doesn’t know. He didn’t actually plan on buying anything. But he also didn’t want to tell the other the real reason for being out here. His face grows red before he shrugs.

“I uh.. actually don’t know if I’m honest. I kind of just wandered and found myself here.” He admits, watching the other carefully tilt his head. Eddie opens his mouth, before closing it. Letting a soft ‘Hmph’ out, as if he were stumped.

“Well…” Eddie drags out carefully. “You can always just chill out here with me if you want. I’ll just be high off my ass.”

Steve nods his head before hesitantly sitting down again. “What do you normally do out here anyway?” He asks curiously. He wants to start a small conversation with the other.

Eddie grins as if he’s waited to be asked that his entire life. “Well I mostly sell here, but on occasion I like to get high and just sit and appreciate nature. It clears my head, you know?” He hums out. Leaning forward slightly as his eyes never leave Steve. As if he wanted to hear everything he had to say and actually cared.

Steve nods his head with a soft smile, “yeah,” he says gently. He was beginning to understand what Eddie meant. There wasn’t much that cleared Steve’s head. Not even basketball fully did that for him. But right now, sitting across from Eddie pretty much swimming in his scent his head felt the clearest it’s ever been.

Swimming had always been Steve’s favorite sport.

As time went on and they slowly talked, Steve watches in real time as Eddie gets more giggly. His eyes slowly growing red and how more lively the other was becoming. The way his hands flew out to grasp his chest playfully before he fell off the bench. Not caring about the leaves that get tangled in his curls or the possibility of getting hurt.

What captivated Steve the most was how the alphas scent slowly changed. It kept shifting between the familiar pumpkin to a mint chocolate chip smell. Unable to stay on one smell for longer than a few minute’s. It was like his pheromones had a base case of ADHD as well.

Steve’s smile was wide, he felt high himself just being in the other males presence. He rambles about nonsense with the other. About the birds in the trees, the leaves that were changing color, DnD, and even discussing stories about parties going wrong.

Eddie couldn’t sit still Steve notices. His hands were fidgeting with his rings, his legs bounced and his head body was always swaying back and forth just a little.

“Dude you’re so high,” Steve laughs out. Nose scrunching up as he smells the others scent changing again. He enjoyed it, never able to get bored.

Eddie giggles in response, his eyes nearly closed as he stumbles off his seat. Nearly falling on his face. He lands on his knees and flops down. He lays on his stomach, cheek pressed against the dirt as he blinks slowly at Steve.

Steve was slightly worried the other was going to fall asleep on him. So, just in case he moves to sit a couple of inches away from the other. Watching how the other tilts his head up, dopily, to keep his eyes on him. His heart melts a little, the other reminds him of a sleepy puppy.

The thought of pups makes his heart do flips.

This was the dorkiest alpha he has ever met.

“So, how long do edibles normally affect you?” He asks curiously, moving his fingers mindlessly through the pile of leaves next to him. Not looking back at the other, afraid that if he met the others heated stare he might do something stupid.

“Oh, a couple of hours.” Eddie hums gently. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.” He yawns gently. He then shifts his right knee up higher, closer to his chest.

Steve snorts, looking up from the ground as he raises an eyebrow at the other.

“Eddie you could barely walk without falling on your face,” he points out. He can’t help but wonder how the alpha did this by himself all the time.

“Hm, they don’t normally hit me this hard.” Eddie comments, opening his mouth to say something else but stops.

After a moment of silence he finally caves and adds on. “I think you may be the reason why I’m falling on my face sweetheart. Your scent is like a high on its own.”

Steve could tell the other wasn’t fully processing what he was saying. That still doesn’t stop his face from growing red.

He smiles shyly, “yeah? What do I smell like?”

Eddie hums, his face screwing up in thought. “You smell like fresh brownies. Like the best weed brownies I’ve ever made but better.” He says confidently. He then lifts his head up as he asks, “what do I smell like?”

Steve doesn’t understand how Eddie’s eyes were getting so red. He would be slightly worried if the other didn’t seem to be enjoying himself so much.

“Well, your smell kind of changes. It was chocolate pumpkin bread, now it’s a mint chocolate chip but I’m sure it’ll go back to pumpkin soon.” Steve laughs softly. “It’s part of the reason I ended up wandering out here.” He finally admits. He felt more comfortable with the other, trusted the other wouldn’t be mean.

Eddie’s grin grows as he pushes himself up off the ground. He slowly crawls closer to Steve, completely unaware of personal space. His hair moves around a bit, sending a gust of his scent Steve’s way. He stays a few inches away but he smelt stronger being this close. It was making Steve light headed. His omega makes a soft content chirp in response. Steve thinks he might die.

“Really?” Eddie asks. His body falls to the ground again, his head just inches away from lying in Steve’s lap.

“Yeah.” Steve stutters out. He wants to put his hands in this oblivious alphas hair, and nose in his neck. He’s never wanted anything more in his life.

Eddie smiles dumbly up at the other, lifting a finger to poke at Steve’s neck. Pressing against where his mating mark would be someday.

“That’s cool, you have to freckles right here. As if it’s marking the spot for your mate.” Eddie says casually. Getting distracted from what Steve said. Moving his hand back, hair getting tangled in more leafs

Steve can’t hold himself back anymore. He moves a hand down and carefully pulls a twig from the others hair. Ignoring, for the moment, how Eddie’s eyes closed. His face and body relaxing fully for the first time they’ve been out here. When he finally gets it pulled out, he brings his hands back in his lap.

He then watches amused as Eddie lets a pathetic whine out. “That felt nice.” Eddie says sleepily.

Steve desperately wants this alpha in his bed. Not in a sexual manner but for cuddling purposes.

“Yeah?” Steve teases as he watches the other scramble around a bit. Sees how focused the other’s face was before he flops his head down in Steve’s lap. Like a care free dog.

Steve can’t help but let out a giggle, not fully understanding how he got here. But he catches the others hint and begins to play with his hair. Carefully scratching at his scalp.

He watches as the other begins to fall asleep. A soft purr leaving him. Steve’s never heard an alpha purr before. Didn’t even know it was a thing.

Instead of saying anything he stays silent and keeps playing with the other’s hair until it began to grow dark.

“Eddie,” Steve whispers gently. Hesitatingly brushing a hand against the alphas face in hopes of waking him up slowly.

It seems to do the trick as Eddie wakes up almost immediately. His eyes glossy with sleep, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks up at Steve confused. “Huh?” He sounds groggy. His scent changing to a fresh bread smell.

Steve bites his lip amused. “You fell asleep on me.” He teases.

Eddie’s face grows red as he quickly moves up. Pulling away to sit up, rubbing his eyes carefully. “I’m so sorry, that doesn’t normally happen. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rambles out.

Steve shakes his head, “it’s alright. I didn’t mind.” He was sleepy himself now. Meeting Eddie’s eyes who land back on his. Neither of them know what to do with themselves.

Eddie decides a hug is the thing to do. He crawls over and wraps his arms around Steve, awkwardly and pats his shoulders. His neck shoving its way in Steve’s face, leaving him no room but to get the full scent blasted in his face. He wants to stay like this forever. Before he can say as such Eddie is pulling away and stumbling over himself awkwardly. His words not comprehendible before he leaves the woods.

[idleoblivion]

"Shopping Spree" Crewel x GN Reader

Synopsis: Your professor finally takes you on that shopping trip he promised, and you get more than just new clothes.

Part 1 Part 3

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: I can't explain why I am so down bad for this man but here I am with more smut of him. Let me know if I should make a part three, cause I'm definitely considering.

Warnings: Teacher/student relationship, gn reader, shy/nervous reader, semi-public sex, dirty talk, overuse of the word 'puppy', oral sex (m!receiving), masturbation, praise kink

You sat completely rigid in the leather seat of his red sports car. You shifted a bit, not uncomfortable from the seat but from this trip already being such a large departure from what you’re used to. A part of you felt like you were sullying the whole car by even being inside it, looking very pedestrian compared to the driver next to you.

Crewel clearly preferred to dress formal and polished even on his days off. Over his outfit he still wore his signature coat, fluffy and luxurious as ever. When he picked you up, he had laid out the plans he had for you today. He was taking you to a luxury shopping mall, where you could buy almost anything you wanted. The only condition was that every outfit you tried on you had to show him for approval. His justification was that he couldn’t let you walk out of the store with something that didn’t flatter you..

“If you’re going to be my puppy, you’re going to have to dress the part.” He had said to you earlier.

He pulls into the parking lot and you’re immediately struck by the grandeur of the building. It looked even larger than the malls you were used to, and even from outside it radiated an air of expensiveness.

He opens the door for you once the car is parked, and puts his hand on your lower back as you walk beside him. He guides you towards the entrance of the mall and you step in together.

The inside of the mall was incredibly intimidating. Every store in sight has windows filled with products you couldn’t dream of affording. You repeat a question you had earlier to him, with newfound concern at your surroundings.

“You’re really sure I can get clothes here? I would’ve been happy with a regular mall too.” He tsks at you, “Yes, I am sure. In fact I insist, because I won’t have a puppy of mine running around in clothes unbefitting of them. And there will be no talk of the price either, that isn’t for you to worry about. No more yipping, follow me. We’ll try on some things in here first.” He pulls you into what would be the first of many stores, and you start browsing their selection with him.

---

You had been shopping for more than three hours now, and you were a bit overwhelmed with everything you had gotten. You left every store he brought you to with at least one bag of new clothes, which he carried for you. 

True to his word, he made you show him every outfit you wanted to buy. Almost all of them he approved, sometimes adding something or taking just one thing away, but he hadn’t outright refused anything you picked out. What caught you a bit off guard were all the outfits he picked. You knew he’d probably be giving you suggestions, but weren’t expecting him to pick whole ensembles that he demanded you try on. They were all very much his aesthetic, elegant black and white pieces with an occasional hint of red. He looked extra pleased after you would try those on, and ended up buying every single item he had picked out for you. It wasn’t a big deal, if letting him choose some things for you was the price for a whole new wardrobe, you didn’t mind at all.

You were finally at what he promised would be the last store. You actually didn’t see much that you liked, but he had found a few things he wanted to see you in again. The salesperson brought you both to a fitting room in the back and left you there. The room was decently large, with a few different places to hang your clothes and a stool. You resumed the pattern you had both established; He would hand you an outfit, you’d show him and he'd give his judgment, he'd hand you another, rinse and repeat until he was satisfied. 

You stepped out of the room to show him the latest choice. He pondered for a second before giving his thoughts.

“Hmm…It fits your body very nicely, and the colors look great on you. Yes, we’ll get this one too.”

You smile at his compliments. You go to reach for the next outfit he has in his hand, but he doesn’t give it to you. He steps past you and makes his way towards the fitting room.

“Um…what are you doing?” “I’m coming in with you. This one has clasps in the back you’ll probably need help with.” He pushes through the door and waits for you to follow. You hesitate, but after a pause you enter anyway.

He stands to the side and starts preparing the outfit for you. You wait for him to turn or face away from you, but instead he looks right at you expectantly.

“Well?”

Realizing what he means, you slowly start undressing yourself. You feel his eyes staring holes into you the entire time, watching every movement you made and looking your body up and down. Once you’re down to just your underwear, you nervously turn to face him again. You expect him to hand you the clothes to put on, only to find they’ve been unceremoniously tossed onto the stool. He steps toward you empty-handed, and you have to fight the urge to back up a little.

He places his hands on your sides and holds you in front of him. He leans down to kiss you, gently at first, but increasing in intensity very quickly. He bites your lip which makes you gasp, and uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands start sliding lower down your body, and you push at his shoulder to get him to break the kiss. He pulls back, looking somewhat confused.

“W-we, we can’t…there’s people here, and the worker might-” “The worker won’t bother us in here, and the only other customers were all up front. If anyone came back here, we’d hear them. Nothing bad’s going to happen, puppy, not when you’re with me.” He presses his lips to your neck and starts sucking lightly, then moving to kiss along your collarbone. His hand trails upwards to fondle your chest, and the heat in your body becomes unignorable. You stifle a moan as he leans to flick his tongue over your nipple.

“Professor…” you whine meekly. The sheepish tone in your voice makes him groan.

“Do you have any idea,” He starts between hot kisses to your skin, “What you’ve been doing to me all day? Looking so cute in everything I put you in, being so good for me…”

He stands straight again and eyes you hungrily. “You like being good for me, don’t you puppy?”

You nod rapidly, but he shakes his head back. “Words, puppy.” “Yes professor, I like being good for you.” Your face is burning, but you make yourself say it anyway.

He reaches for his belt and starts undoing it. “Then get on your knees.” You obey and sink to your knees in front of him. He grabs your chin and tilts it up towards him, smirking at your doe-eyed expression.

“Keep your hands on the floor, no touching. Do you understand?”

“Yes, professor.”

“Good. Stick out your tongue.” He holds your chin still while you put your tongue out. He frees his cock from his pants with his other hand and taps it on your tongue a few times. You don’t break eye contact, knowing you’d probably be scolded if you did.

“Now open that sweet little mouth for me, puppy.”

Again, you obey, and he slowly puts his cock in your mouth. You suppress the urge to gag as it reaches into your throat slightly and he holds you there. He curses at the sight of you taking him in all the way.

“Fuck puppy, you’re good, so good for me. You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face, right?”

You manage a small, choked “yes, professor” around his cock, which is all it takes for him to start fucking into your throat with fervor. Tears start welling up from his pace almost immediately. The fat tears rolling down your cheeks only make him rougher with you. You want to press your hands against his thighs, but you keep them on the ground like he instructed. He keeps praising you all through it, telling you how good you’re doing and how perfect you look like this. It makes you press your legs together and squirm a little on the floor, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Are you feeling needy, puppy?” He pants as he keeps thrusting into your mouth. “You can touch yourself if you need to, I give you permission.”

You take him up on that immediately, and reach down to play with yourself. The stimulation plus the almost feral look on his face has you moaning around his cock now, bringing him closer to the edge.

“Be good for me and swallow it puppy, and show me when you’re done. Fuck, that’s it puppy-” He continues to ramble as he approaches his high.

With a loud groan he finally cums in your mouth. He holds your head still while he does, and you do your best not to choke while you swallow everything he gives you. When he finally lets you go, you sputter for a second trying to catch your breath. Remembering his commands, you look back up at him and stick your tongue out again, showing you had left nothing.

“Good fucking puppy…” he pulls you up from the floor to kiss you again. He holds you close to him and you shakily grab him back. “Did so good for me, so good.” His praise again has you writhing in his grasp.

“Professor…” You start whining again with a slightly hoarse voice, “I-I, I need you…touch me, please?” “Hmm…no, I don’t think I will.” You look up at him wide-eyed. Was he seriously going to leave you so worked up like this? “B-but, you said I was good! I was good for you, right?”

He chuckles at your obvious desperation. “Yes, you were puppy. But I think we’ve spent too much time in this fitting room already. So we’ll pick up where we left off back at my house, alright?” That stops your thoughts in their tracks. “Your house?” “Did you think I was taking you back to that destitute dormitory of yours? Of course not, you’re spending the weekend with me and I’ll bring you back Monday. Plus there are a few…extra gifts I’d like to give you there.” His eyes turn a bit dangerous once again, and he smacks you lightly on the ass, making you yelp. He laughs and lets go of you, turning to exit the fitting room.

“Get changed, we’ll get something to eat and head there after.” Once he leaves, you stand still a bit in shock at your situation. The whole weekend, with him? If this is what he would do in a dressing room, what would he do when he had you alone at his place? The thought made heat start pooling in your stomach again.

Snapping out of it, you hurriedly get dressed again and make yourself presentable. You try to calm your nerves, reminding yourself that you still need to act natural while you’re at the register with him. After a few deep breaths and a final attempt to fix your hair, you meet him outside the room.

“Ready to go, puppy?”

“Yes, professor.”

[euphoricfilter]

Stardust || JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader

Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au

Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig

Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!

<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it

my full masterlist

✯ ✯ ✯

If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.

A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.

Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.

And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.

Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.

Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.

Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.

His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.

Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.

He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.

And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.

Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.

“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.

Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.

Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.

“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.

“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.

“First off, I love you too—“

“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.

“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”

“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.

“Huh” he gawks, “How?”

“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.

“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.

“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”

“Is too”

“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.

“Sex ache”

You pause, “Excuse me?”

“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.

“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”

“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.

“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.

“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.

You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.

“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.

A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.

“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.

“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.

Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.

But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.

Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)

It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.

Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.

One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.

Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.

It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.

Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.

Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)

It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.

“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”

You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.

“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.

“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.

“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”

“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”

You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.

“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.

✯ ✯ ✯

Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.

You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.

You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.

You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.

Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.

However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.

Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.

If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.

“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.

“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.

“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.

Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.

“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.

If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.

“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.

“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”

You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.

You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.

“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.

“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”

“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.

“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.

“On your back, you brat.”

✯ ✯ ✯

“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.

“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.

You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.

You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.

“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”

Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.

Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.

“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.

“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.

“Hey! No complaining”

You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.

“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.

Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.

“Not so bad huh?” he grins.

It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.

“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.

“Just a few more, you’re doing great”

“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.

Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.

Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.

“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.

“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”

“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”

Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.

“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.

Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”

You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.

“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.

“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”

“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”

“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.

“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.

“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”

Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”

“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.

“Made what obvious?” you whisper.

“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.

“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”

“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”

Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”

“You’re unbelievable”

“Me? What about you?”

Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.

“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.

“High school”

You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.

Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.

“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.

“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”

“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”

“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.

“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.

“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.

And Jungkook nods, “I agree”

“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.

You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.

Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.

There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.

Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.

“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.

“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.

“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”

“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.

He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.

You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.

“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”

Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.

You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.

“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.

You hesitate.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.

“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.

“But?” he urges.

“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.

“How can I help?”

You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.

“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”

“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”

Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”

You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.

“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”

You nod, falling onto your back.

Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.

His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.

He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.

Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.

“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.

“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.

He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.

“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.

“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.

Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.

“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”

That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.

Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.

“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.

“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.

You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.

“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.

He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.

He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.

“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.

You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.

“Please, Jungkook”

And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.

“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”

You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.

“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.

Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.

He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.

“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.

“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.

“Mhmm”

You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.

“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.

You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.

“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.

Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.

“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.

He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.

The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.

He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.

“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.

You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.

“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”

You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.

He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.

“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.

“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.

✯ ✯ ✯

Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.

You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.

It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.

There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.

All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.

He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.

Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.

Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.

Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.

So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.

Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.

He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.

Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.

Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.

💫 like, reblog, and feedback is encouraged!! thank you so much for reading <3

taglist: @koikooky @fandems @guesswhatimthinking @slut-formattsun @satisfied18 @apollukee @scastro95 @happygolucky7777 @jjkw-7 @taeboludo @fairy-jaykay @jeonjjks @exactlygreatcoffee @itzz-me-duh @jkkkkkay @starstruckfangirls @tornparts @seoqity @straykidsmaxident @bebejungkook @twilight-love-nochu-main @chimmisbae @redeyezbloodymouth

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[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter one:

Love You More

Series Masterlist

Next part: Wine and Dine

Word Count: 6,987

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

Steve sat pretty in his office at the compound, he had changed from his usual work clothes into his workout clothes not too long ago, preparing to switch from boring office work to one on one training.

He had gotten a call a few minutes ago letting him know an agent was being sent to him for disciplinary action due to some unfavorable behavior.

So he sat and waited, moving side to side in his swivel chair with a grin on his face, anticipating he knew exactly who was about to walk through that door.

And just like he thought, you stormed in his office like a little grey rain cloud. Not a single knock on the door before entering, not a professional greeting, no eye contact.

Just you, plopping down on the less comfortable swivel chair across his desk. Arms folded, eyes on the pothos plant he tried his hardest to keep alive, and your face contorted in such a manor that gave away all your internal emotions. You were seething, the pinch in your brow and the twinge in your pout told him so.

He sat with a sympathetic grin on his lips as he waited for you to pull your wireless earbuds out so his words didn't get lost behind the music you seemed to always be listening to in order to keep your mind occupied and away from reality.

"Hi, Bug." Steve greeted his friend who had been sent to his office as if he had been through this many times before... because he has.

"Hello Roger Stevenson." You responded in the same tone, slouching further into the same chair you've slouched in dozens of times now.

"What did you do?" He questioned, just as dryly as he greeted you.

"Kicked an agent in the dick." You stated confidentiality.

Steve smiled. "Why did you do that?"

"Because he cornered me durning training and tried to scare me into dropping out of the program with you." You complained.

This was the problem nearly every single time you sat in that very chair. Women agents in the compound were far and few between, and women agents that were high up in ranks were even further and fewer. Not because they were incapable, but because of the way they were treated.

Steve saw the misogyny from miles away, he saw it every day, and he had to deal with it every day. The agent training programs were chalk full of toxically masculine men who very obviously felt threatened by the presence of strong women.

He knew every single woman agent by name at this point because of how many times he had to put the men around them in their place. He had done it a billion times before, and he'd do it a billion times again.

You were the firecracker at the compound. Physically and emotionally, you outranked every agent the compound had ever seen. You worked your way through every training program so easily that you had been 'randomly selected' for more drug tests than any of your other colleagues. Peers always accused you of being on steroids, the men cornered you, belittled you, sexualized you, and sometimes even went as far as to touch your body.

At this point, you found yourself in Steve's generously spacious office a minimum of twice a week. Most of the time it was because your commander always sent you for disciplinary action because the only part of the altercations that were ever caught happened to be you defending yourself, rather than the initial issue. The other times were because you snuck away to the only place in the building you felt like you could take a moment to regain your composure, maybe have a little cry if you needed it.

For a few months now, you've been undergoing a completely new program to continue progressing in your training. Four days a week after your normal group work, you had private training with Steve.

You were learning a lot from him, and all the time the two of you had been spending together had turned you and Steve into close friends but naturally, that fueled the fire of all of your peers. The tormenting had turned up to a level that had you seeing red.

Steve couldn't and never blamed you for all the times you sat across from him for having kicked, punched, or screamed at a colleague. He was proud that you had it in you to stick up for yourself, but sad that you even had to in the first place.

However, everyone in the compound could tell that the never ending abuse from your peers was affecting your mental health. Tony and Fury had formally invited you onto the Avengers team twice now, not only because of your skill set, but also in hopes of making the situation a little better for you. Both times you professionally declined the offer with high honor, and when Steve questioned your choice both times, it was always because you didn't think you were good enough yet. Shit, you hadn't even made it through all of the training programs the compound had to offer.

It was painfully obvious that you were over qualified for a spot on the Avengers to everyone but you. The words being viciously spat at you nearly every day by inadequate men had sunken so far deep into your brain that you started to believe their words to be true. So, more one on one training it was.

"What should your disciplinary action be?" Steve asked, leaning back in his chair.

You noted his work out clothes, then looked at the time. "How about five minutes of peace and quiet before you beat my ass for two whole hours of training?"

"Peace and quiet?! That just seems so cruel." He offered an apologetic grin.

"I deserve it. I'm a terrible team player, far to emotional to ever be a good agent." Sarcasm dropped from your tone. "I must be on my period today."

"Go assert your dominance over on the couch and take a breather, I'm starting to feel way to intimidated by your feminine energy." Steve joked. "I have a few things to take care of but I'll get you when I'm ready for our one on one today."

You nodded, and stood up before making the very short walk over to the cozy couch in his office. Having spent many hours here with him before, you always felt comforted by the suede nook and throw pillow wonderland.

There was always an unspoken sense of appreciation when Steve knew not to make a big deal out of what happened. Sometimes if he harped on it for too long it would just make you cry, and if he went and yelled at the agents who had put you in this position, they'd only come back and try twice as hard to deliver you your downfall.

So pretend write ups and stern talking to's happened to be the best way to go about it.

As you sunk into the couch, Steve got up and grabbed you a water bottle and a snack. Having already trained for a few hours today with a few more ahead of you, he wanted to make sure you were taken care of.

Squatting down in front of you, peace offering in hand, Steve saw all the emotions you were trying to suppress. "Oh, and as part of your punishment you're required to hang out with Bucky and I tonight at my place. We're getting pizza and watching movies."

Only then did your smile appear. "How dare you? It wasn't even my fault and now I'm being punished far beyond the offense."

"I don't want to hear it young lady." He stood up. "You do the crime, you gotta do the time."

"Well I guess I can't say no." You took Steve's peace offering. "What time are you expecting my appearance?"

"I'm off work after training you so just come over whenever you're ready." He shrugged, moving back to his desk.

"I'm gonna shower and nap after this." You raised an eyebrow.

"Just as you deserve." Steve agreed as he sat down and fixed his eyes on his computer screen. "Your cruel and unusual punishment of peace and quiet starts now."

Feeling appreciative of Steve, you closed your eyes and let your head fall back onto the cushion. Trying your absolute hardest to meditate the anger and sadness out of your body, it was difficult to not allow yourself to sit in the emotional puddle of despair that these altercations constantly left you in.

Had it not been for Steve, you would've quit this job and ran far, far away by now. Every work day was proving to be a mental and physical hurdle that was starting to slowly chip away at your spirit, but you had no choice but to truck along considering you've already made it this far.

But eventually sunshine, rainbows, and a hot, cheesy slice to pizza consumed your thoughts to create a calmer peace of mind. That was until all of the green meadows and greasy goodness was cut off by a pillow gently whacking you in the face.

Upon ripping your eyes open, and the same seething pout returning to your face, the soldier stood proudly before you, hiding his invasive laughter by biting his tongue.

"You know, if you weren't my higher-up I'd kick you in the dick too." You grumbled.

All of Steve's self control broke free at your words, and his laughter sounded through his big and beautiful office. "I wasn't sure if you were awake or not."

"So the solution was violence?" You questioned, trying to hide your amusement. Though you could put on a pretty good act, you couldn't imagine a world in which you would ever be genuinely angry at the lump of wholesome goodness in the form of your big, strong best friend.

"That wasn't violent, that was a creative solution!" He smiled widened as your lips tugged upwards. "I chose the softest one!"

"I'll find a creative solution to get you back for that." You playfully threatened. "I know where you live."

"Can you find a creative solution to getting up off the couch so we can get training started?"

You let out a fake cry of complaint "but Stevie, my legs are so sore."

"You're being worked way too hard, we'll take it easy today." Steve offered you his hands to pull you up off the seat. "We can focus of hand to hand combat, give your legs a good break."

"No, it's fine. We can do tricking like you originally planned." You denied. Your hands found his, and he pulled you up with ease.

"Tricking is a martial art that relies mainly on your legs." Steve challenged, letting go of your hands when you were steady on your feet. "I don't think it's a good idea for today. Let's do it tomorrow instead."

"It'll be okay, I can to it." You shook your head.

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should." Steve started walking out of his office towards the private gymnasium the two of you trained in together. "I know you can do it, but I'd rather you properly recover than prove a point."

"...it's not to prove a point." You stated, trailing behind him like a puppy. "I'm just trying to be a good little agent and do my best."

"Your worst is better than most of the other agents best." He looked back at you with a grin. "So there's no harm in waiting until tomorrow."

"Whatever you say, Captain."

Though Steve has made it abundantly clear many times that you didn't have to prove your worth to him, you harbored a deep sense of disappointment in yourself for letting that complaint slip passed your lips.

He would've wanted you to feel comfortable expressing your bodies needs and limitations. In fact, he reminded you all of the time that recovery was just as important as the training itself. But you wanted to be capable of doing it all without a single peep about your discomfort.

You wanted to be mighty, you wanted to be strong, you wanted to prove your worth.

Your friend always knew your value even when you couldn't see it, so he made a habit out of advocating for your needs when you wouldn't. While you studied him to become a better fighter, he studied you just as hard. At this point he knew what every single one of your facial expressions meant, he sensed your attitude change before you expressed it, he was an expert in your body language, and was knowledgeable about your body in general.

If you weren't able to properly take care of it, he would. With the most careful respect anyone has ever given you before, Steve knew you better than anyone else in your life.

Although he took training a little bit easy today, he never stopped letting prideful compliments slip past his tongue every time you nailed a new move on the head, or every time he noticed an improvement. Even if you didn't do something so well, his critiques always started with a compliment on your brave attempt and never ended with a belittling statement.

Training with Steve always ended with a hug, or a high five if the two of you were far too hot and sweaty to want to touch each other anymore, then he'd remind you to get some rest, drink some water, and fill your belly with lots of food.

Today was no different, and as he ended the session with a big hug and words of affirmation, your mind felt a whole lot clearer than it did when you initially stormed into his office.

You said goodbye to him, but not for long because not even two hours later, you were knocking on the door to his cozy apartment in the compound.

Most people in the compound lived in barracks. A few agents to a room, with a community living situation for kitchens, living rooms, and bathrooms. The only exceptions to this were the Avengers who got their own little apartments in a private sector of the compound and..... well; you.

You were initially assigned to the barracks just like everyone else, but much like the rest of your personal journey here at the compound, the living situation got complicated.

Not only were you getting bullied and harassed while you were working, it started seeping into your living situation too. Sleeping, showering, changing your clothes, there was not a single moment in which you felt safe and confident that you weren't about to get caught in the crossfire of an angry colleague.

So after one too many incidents, your commander moved you to an apartment to yourself. It was away from the avengers and all the other agents, so even though it was nice to have a place for your own, some days it also felt isolating.

Thats why you loved hanging out with the boys. Sometimes you just needed some comfortable interaction with people you trusted in places that felt like home.

Before your hand even made it back to down to your side, the door swung open.

"You know, you and Bucky both have a key to my place. I don't understand why you guys still knock." Steve was on the other side, now wearing a white T-shirt and some cozy pants. A smile stretched across your lips and he gave you the stink eye. "I also don't understand why you showed up to pizza and a movie like that. Especially when you said you were gonna take a nap."

Usually the dress code for his house was strictly cozy clothes only. But you now had a full face of makeup, your hair was curled to perfection, and your outfit definitely didn't look comfortable.

"There was a small change of plans." You shrugged, walking past him entering his place before kicking your shoes off in the entryway.

"What do you mean change of pla-"

"Bucky!" Your smile widened when you saw your other friend sitting on the couch.

Immediately standing up, Bucky approached you and wrapped you up in a big hug. "Buggy! It's been too long!"

"It has been too long, and it's all your fault" You joked, enjoying being wrapped up in his arms.

"How is it my fault?" He asked, pretending to be offended.

"Because you went on that mission a few weeks ago!" You reminded him.

"Well then it's your fault too because you left on a mission the same day I got home." Bucky disagreed, letting you go.

"Maybe if less people in the world were so needy and evil we'd be able to see each other more." You noted, plopping down on the couch.

"Why do you look so pretty?" Bucky questioned.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Steve added.

"Because I'm going to watch a movie with you boys... then maybe going out with a ...friend right after this." You sneakily explained knowing damn well they were about to hate what you were saying.

Like it was choreographed and synchronized, they looked at each other, then turned their heads back to you with a glare.

"You're seeing Harvey, aren't you?" Steve deadpanned.

"If I was, why would that be so bad?" You questioned.

"Because Harvey is your ex boyfriend. Emphasis on the ex." Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"No he's not. We didn't break up, we simply took a break. Those are two completely different things." You defended yourself knowing they both hated Harvey's guts.

"Taking a break is breaking up but just so much worse. He's just hurting your feelings more and dragging you along." Steve vented with his hands on his hips, like a disappointed dad.

"Exactly. And everyone knows he's one of the worst Agents in the compound." Bucky sassed, sitting next to you on the couch. "He's not nice, he doesn't have a good personality, he's falling behind so far we don't even feel comfortable sending him on missions anymore."

"He does have a good personality, he just doesn't show his true self to a lot of people. He's closed off to the outside world." You defended him.

"He's friends with all the douche bags that torment you every day. How could you be okay with that?" Steve dropped his tone to a more gentle one as he sat on the side of you opposite Bucky.

"I still haven't forgiven him for breaking your heart not even 3 months ago." Bucky reminded you of when he broke up with you over text, just to beg for you back not even a full week later.

"I know on paper it all looks bad, but you guys just don't get it. You won't understand unless you see it from the inside like I do. He can be really sweet, and he is a good agent, he just lets his dumbass friends distract him too much." You continued your defense with a shrug. "He's a Scorpio."

"Oh please" Bucky laughed. "Don't bring astrology into this."

You leaned back onto Bucky's arm and let your legs rest over Steve's lap. If you had to hear their lecture, you at least deserved to be comfortable.

"What does that even mean?" Steve questioned curiously.

"Scorpio's are kind've intense." You explained. "They're mysterious and charming, but sometimes vindictive. Harvey feels things strongly, and acts on his feelings immediately with not much to rationalize his behavior."

"Yeah, vindictive is definitely the right word to describe him" Bucky backhandedly agreed, slinging his arm around your shoulders allowing you to get more comfortable.

"What am I?" Steve asked.

"A cancer, I think." You smiled. "Let me look it up. Your birthday is the Fourth of July, right?"

"You know me so well" Steve nodded.

Your fingers typed on your phone and Bucky watched the screen. "I'm a Pisces." He stated.

"Okay, Steve. Cancers are soft, loving, creative and nurturing. They care deeply for the people they love and are uniquely in touch with their emotions. Cancers are able to handle all the roles their counterparts get lost in, they are chivalrous but are sensitive and easily emotionally wounded." You read the google search to them.

"Okay you can stop now, that made me feel vulnerable." Steve joked with a smile.

"That's Steve if I've ever heard it." Bucky agreed that the description matched him perfectly.

"Read Bucky's now." Steve encouraged, poking your leg.

Your fingers typed quickly once again. "A Pisces man is kind and unafraid to nurture his feminine side. He has the ability to listen compassionately, show deep empathy. They tend to view attention as a gift, and only ever wants to feel loved and cherished. Oh, and they're lazy, idealistic, and use escapism as their main coping mechanism."

"Awww, that's just like our sweet little Bucky boy." Steve cooed.

"Now I feel vulnerable." Bucky momentarily hid his face in his hands earning your laugh.

"What's yours, Bug?" Steve questioned with a giggle.

"I'm a Gemini" You stated proudly. "Most people don't like Geminis"

"What's there not to like?" Steve cocked his head to the side.

"Well the most notable trait of a Gemini is that we have a strong ability to switch between different roles, interests, and perspectives with ease. Kind've like Yin and Yang all in one. We can be emotional and logical, introverted and extroverted, analytical and intuitive all at the same time." You explained.

"I still don't see the problem" Steve said.

"Most people take the duality as being two-faced. Almost like we will use it as manipulation or means to have a hidden agenda. But I think that's a false representation of what I'm really like." You continued with a shrug. "I don't have an ulterior motive, I just try to view all things from all sides and find a good balance of logic and emotion. Like letting your heart and your brain make choices together."

"Being able to see situations from all angles is what makes you such a good agent, that's practically a super power" Bucky commented, lightly nudging you with his shoulder.

"Exactly. Understanding your enemy can let you get two steps ahead of them while still holding your own with grace and precision." Steve agreed.

"Float like a butterfly, and sting like a bee." Bucky added.

"That's exactly why I call her Bug!" Steve enthused with a big smile.

"Oh, I call her Bug because you call her Bug, but that makes sense!" Bucky laughed. "I thought it was because most people are scared of her at first but once you learn more about her, she's really not that bad after all!"

You looked up at Bucky with eyes squinted into a glare worth a thousand daggers. "Worms for brains!"

Steve's laughter at the comment didn't falter either, so you gently kicked him in the rib. "Hey! I'm the second person you've kicked today!"

"I wouldn't have to kick people if people didn't give me a reason to kick them." You defended yourself. "And I stand by that!"

Steve's hands held your two legs tightly in his hands. "Keep your legs closed and to yourself, ma'am!"

You gasped and clutched your chest in exaggeration before joking. "Are you calling me a slut, Captain?!"

"Steven Grant Rogers!" Bucky protectively clutched you closer to him. "That is not how we speak to women!"

"No wait!" Steve laughed. "That's not what I meant!"

“Mmmhmmm" Bucky sassed.

"I meant stop kicking people! Especially me!"

"I'm choosing to forgive you, under one condition." You giggled. "Please order the pizza. I'm starving."

"I heard your stomach grumbling during training, I ordered it 15 minutes ago." Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Ugh, I love you so much." You professed. "Sweet, sweet man."

Steve's cheeks subtly warmed. "I love you more!"

"I'm gonna vomit." Bucky grumbled behind you. "Remember when he called you a slut?"

"I did not!" Steve shrieked.

You barked out a laugh before rolling onto your side to reach for the remote on the coffee table. "What are we watching boys? Lord knows this is going to take at least half an hour to figure out..."

And right you were, because the pizza arrived before the three of you agreed on a movie. You stuffed your bellies and watched the film before saying goodbye to them and meeting Harvey for drinks.

Though you didn't have high expectations of how you wanted the night to turn out with him, Harvey somehow found a way to dig underneath the bar you had set on the floor for him.

It was clear from the moment you showed up at the causal dive bar that he wasn't interested in speaking like adults, so through the entire duration of your first drink he sat and belittled you. It was as if his friends in the compound had taken control of his brain like a parasite. All of the reasons he claimed he could never get back together with you sounded just like the reasons most of the agents at the compound treated you like a piece of garbage.

You weren't even that good of an agent, he didn't like how much time you were spending with Steve, your invitation to the avengers was just coercion, and you spent too much time working and not enough time attending to him... even though both of you worked the same hours.

Needless to say, you cut him off before ordering a shot on his tab. You threw it back effortlessly without as much as a stink face or a wince, slipped the bartender a tip, then walked away without as much as a single goodbye to the man you once loved with your whole heart.

Maybe Steve and Bucky were right. They were always right, and you always ended up looking like a fool.

Much like a fool would, you cried for the entire walk back to the compound. You cried through the hallways up to your apartment, you cried while taking off your makeup and brushing your teeth. You even cried as you slipped on your pajamas and walked back to Steve's apartment, hoping that maybe him and Bucky were still watching movies.

But, you did manage to stop the tears as you slid the key in and unlocked his door. You sniffled as you stepped in and were greeted with a dark living room and his bedroom door shut.

Feeling a little defeated, you still wanted to be with someone. So you quietly made your way into his room and slipped into the unoccupied side of his bed.

You didn't know if it was the big, scary superhero sleeping next to you, or maybe the extra comfortable blankets and pillows, but Steve's bed was the most comforting place in the world to you.

He never questioned why, and neither of you even remembered how it came to be, but you made a dirty little habit of sneaking in and sleeping in his company when you couldn't fathom being alone at night. You had a lot on your plate, and Harvey was known for breaking your heart right before bed. The compound to you wasn't the warm and fuzzy place it was to Steve and Bucky, it was cold and sterile. So Steve was happy to let you come to the one place you found comfort whenever you needed

But there was one unspoken rule, and that was for very obvious reasons. No one could know about this. Not any other agent, not any other avenger. Not even Bucky.

Why? Well, the most obvious reason was that if anyone found out about how close you and Steve really were, especially your little sleepovers, all of the times your colleagues falsely claimed that you were having sex with him to climb up in ranks would quadruple in amount. You were already getting horrifically bullied at the compound, and neither of you could stand to add fuel to the fire.

The second reason being Steve was technically your higher up. Like a manager or a supervisor, you occasionally reported to him. Though him being your main disciplinary figure and trainer, he also occasionally did other duties surrounding your job such as deployment on missions, oversight on testing days, and training assessments.

Your friendship was already crossing way more lines than either of you have ever crossed in a normal boss - employee relationship. Steve had moral dilemmas about it every single day, he could see the dilemma in your eyes every so often as well. On paper it was wrong, but given the circumstances that his friendship with you was similar to his friendships with the avengers, Steve made himself feel better by viewing it as stepping stones to get you onto the team. Because once you were officially an Avenger, the two of you would be equals and there would be absolutely nothing wrong with your closeness.

The third and least obvious reason was the unfortunate fact that Steve was head over heels in love with you.

He really never meant for this to happen, but it hit him harder than a freight train the very first time he ever laid eyes on you. You had just ranked high enough to start agent training under Steve's devision. Anticipating a brand new group of recruits to whip into shape, especially with rumors about a nameless and faceless agent, Agent 306, who had worked their way into his devision in less than 3 months, less than half the time it took everyone else to get there, he walked into the group training room and his eyes immediately locked on yours.

Once they found you, he couldn't look away. You reminded him so much of when he was in boot camp before he took the serum. In a lineup of men that towered over you in height, you seemed tiny but mighty. Steve knew better than anyone else to never underestimate the little guy.

So he started down the line and put the assigned agent numbers to faces while trying his best to memorize them as fast as he could. You stood as tall as you could and improved your posture as he got closer to you. Admittedly, being in front of an avenger for the first time was terrifying and nerve wracking. The closer he got, the harder your hands shook.

Then, it was your turn. The man towered over you with his big, solid frame. But the second you looked into his big blue eyes, you immediately recognized the kindness and warmth that lived within them.

"Agent?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"306." You stated simply.

Expecting him to nod after he studied your face and move on like he did the rest of the agents, his eyes widened for a moment before his lips tugged up into a smile.

You were the most beautiful thing his eyes every had the pleasure of looking at, and while he had the permission, he took in all your features as quickly as he could. He remembered how much he thought you looked like women painted in fine pieces of art for centuries. Classic, timeless, effortlessly beautiful.

"306." He smiled. "I've heard a lot about you. You've got a big reputation to uphold. Keep up the good work."

Just when he thought you couldn't get any more beautiful, your eyes twinkled. He could tell you you were suppressing a smile to keep a professionally straight face. "Thank you, Captain."

Just like that, he moved on to the next agent in the line.

But to this day, he's never moved on from you. He tried his absolute hardest, but he just couldn't. So he shoved it down so deeply into his heart, and locked it up, and threw the metaphorical key into the middle of the ocean.

Since that very day, he had to work hard so just to make sure nobody would ever find out how smitten he was of you. He'd never look at you for too long, never pick you out of the line unless it was necessary, never overly complement your work, and never let his mind wander too far.

You had a boyfriend, and he was your boss. Plain and simple. He wiped the dirt off his shoulder.

But over time, your friendship blossomed, the harassment got worse, and one on one training with you started. That started a whole new level of trust that he simply could not break for you.

Training was intense, and when all the men around you tried to cop sneaky feels of your body, you and Steve grew a mutual trust in touching each other.

Sometimes he had to throw you, catch you, you had to throw light punches and kicks at him. There were days in which he'd have you in a headlock, maybe you full body tackled him onto the ground, maybe he had to grab your waist to correct you mid-flip to make sure you wouldn't snap your neck upon landing.

You were so confident in his ability to be respectful of you, that you were comfortable enough to sleep in his bed when you had a boyfriend.

It took so much time to gain that kind of trust with you, and that trust was very important to him. To accomplish what you two were doing, feeling comfortable and confident in your partner was make or break.

If you ever found out that he had a stupid little crush on you, he could only imagine it would break a majority of that trust. Immediately, the comfortable energy between you two would become very uncomfortable for you, and he simply couldn't put that burden on you.

If Bucky found out you had occasionally been sleeping in Steve's bed, he would immediately figure out his dirty little secret. It would alter the dynamic of your little friend group, and he would push and push for Steve to just tell you the truth in hopes it had some fairytale ending.

So yeah. Nobody could know about this.

Steve had enough conscious awareness to know that you were there with him last night, but not enough to remember you sneaking out before he was awake. You loved to avoid his questions about what had you down enough to not want to be alone, and you had gotten better at tactics to avoid the post sleep interview he loved to bombard you with.

You were so good, in fact, that you managed to avoid it all day until you walked into the private training gym anticipating your routine with Steve.

Oddly enough, he was late. You were never there before him, and he was never even a minute late to anything. So you took the time to start the music from your shared workout playlist with him, and do some warm up stretches on the floor while you waited.

Ten minutes later, he frantically walked into the room. "So sorry I'm late, had an emergency call down to the track-" he stopped in his tracks when he saw lingering sadness on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing" You shook your head, touching your hands to your toes. "I'm fine."

"You look like you've been crying." He noted, cautiously sitting on the floor in front of you.

"It's fine, I've been looking forward to this all day. Can we just get started?" You asked, unable to fake a chipper tone of voice.

"I was late because an agent decided that working through a hangover was a good idea, and now there's vomit all over the running track. Could that violent hangover have anything to do with your tear stained cheeks, Bug?" He asked.

"Harvey?" You questioned.

"Bingo."

"I frankly do not care to hear anything else about him." You shook your head again. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, but it has nothing to do with me. I'm not responsible for any of his dumb choices anymore."

"You never have been." Steve agreed with reluctance. "Last night didn't go so well, huh?"

"We're done." You finally looked Steve in the eyes. "You and Bucky were right. I'm done being discredited and disrespected by the worst excuse for a human in this place."

"I'm so sorry." Steve's face softened in sympathy. Despite his internal happiness that you were officially done with a man who has treated you so poorly, it didn’t make up for the empathy he had for your sadness. "I know you loved him a lot, I can imagine this is difficult for you."

"Can we do that thing where we don't harp on an issue for too long so I don't get even more upset about it?" You asked, feeling as if you'd explode into a puddle of tears if he kept being so nice to you.

"Sure thing, we can talk about it later when work is over." Steve agreed, standing up and offering you his hands. "Did you drink last night?"

You let him help you up and let out a sigh. Technically, you weren't supposed to be drinking much or consuming any substances that could alter your sobriety just in case you got called on emergency.

"I did, but not enough to get me hammered." You explained, letting him help you up. "Just a cocktail and a shot. But I also ate and drank plenty of water."

"That's fine, you know I trust you to make good choices." Steve acknowledged, happy you told him the truth.

"Then why did you ask?" You questioned, dusting your hands off on your work out pants.

"Just wanted to make sure you're not going to throw up on me." Steve smiled.

"I think we're in the clear." You giggled.

"You're allowed to take a day off, you know?" Steve reminded you. "We don't have to do this today if you want to just take a day to pull yourself together."

"This is how I pull myself together." Your hands motioned around the room. "If I sit and do nothing all day, I'll lose my mind."

"Fair enough" Steve nodded in understanding, he was the same way. "Want to get started?"

"Yes please"

It took a bit for you to snap your mind into the proper mindset, but with a bit of guidance, Steve got you there. Once you were all in it, he had you practicing and improving skill sets he started teaching you last week.

About an hour and a half in, you were a hot mess. Your shirt quickly came off leaving you in just a sports bra and work out pants, your hair was tied back as sweat dripped down your face, and you were panting so much that all you wanted to do was lay out on the floor.

But this was typically how hard Steve pushed you, and that's why you loved him. You barely left your typical agent training procedures with a hair out of place. With him, you actually felt like you were making improvement.

The upbeat music and Steve's voice guiding you through how to maneuver in defense hardly even masked the sound of running footsteps down the echoing hallway.

Your commander poked his head into room to see Steve trying his hardest to punch and kick you, while you were moving tirelessly to try and block each attempt. As he watched you miss every single fist and foot, he couldn't help but to be impressed.

"306" He called out in a hurry.

You continued blocking Steve until he stopped, only then did you turn your head and stand tall at his order.

"Commander Bennett." You acknowledged, trying to catch your breath.

"Sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers. We need 306 on an emergency deployment right now."

“Don't be sorry, it's okay." He acknowledged before looking at you. "Are you going to be alright?"

That question had too many layers to unpack at the moment. In general? Probably. After your break up? Maybe not. Going on a mission when you were already worn out? No, but you'd pretend like you were fine.

"Yeah, I'll be okay." You nodded, grabbing your shirt and pulling it back over your head.

"Good work today, we'll pick back up when you get home." He reached out for a high five which you happily accepted. "Stay safe."

"Will do, see you soon, Stevie." You slapped your hand against his.

"Get home quick, Bug." He smiled as you fast walked out of the room backwards. Commander Bennett already running down the hallway.

"Love ya!" You waved, your pretty smile sending a shockwave of physical pain through Steve's heart.

"Love you more" He smiled through the pain.

Then just like that, you slipped out of the door.

He waited until he could no longer hear your footsteps before quite literally back flopping onto the soft floor mats behind him, and took some long, deep breaths.

That little locked box that resides in the depths of his cold heart was desperately trying to work its way up. The contents of love for you inside of it was starting to ooze out of its seams, and you officially being back on the market after months of running back to the same man who was committed to breaking your heart on an endless loop wasn't helping.

He laid there with his eyes closed, letting the thick cushioned material cool his skin as he let the cold hard facts sink into his brain once more.

The only certainty was that he is your boss, your friend, and your own personal cushioned landing mat. He'd be there to catch you if you fell, he'd lend you a shoulder to cry on, and he'd help you get back up on your feet.

He was certain that you loved him as a friend, but he was most certain that he loved you more.

He would always love you more. More than you'll ever know, and more than he will ever tell you.

Next part: Wine and Dine

Tag list: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers

Tag list is still open if you’d like to be apart of this bumpy ride 🌟

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Profane.

Commissioned by the very lovely, very patient @elsecrytt.

Pairing: Yandere!Diavolo x Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 7.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con (Coercion + Inebriation), Brief Cannibalism, Wildly Unhealthy Relationships, Manipulation, Torture (No Injury To Reader), No Like Literal Torture, Gore, Blood, Possessiveness, Theology, and Past Trauma (Reader's Got Issues). The Dove Was Dead, Got Resurrected, And Is Once Again Dead. Please Do Not Eat.

Barbatos showed you to the garden himself.

Usually, guests as unremarkable as yourself would be ushered in by some lesser demonic spirit, shown directly to Diavolo’s in-home office, and rushed out as quickly as the prince’s unwavering sense of hospitality would allow. You’d been through the process yourself a handful of times since you came to the underworld, gotten to visit the castle on an errand for RAD often enough for the shocked awe to dull into simple wonder, but you’d never been able to see the prince or Barbatos in their own home, and when you received the prince’s package, when you smelled the fresh scent of roses and felt silk against your hands, a part of you refused to believe this could be anything but another request to run a few files from one location to another, an invitation to discuss an upcoming festival or ceremony somewhere less imposing than the shadowy, stiflingly gothic student council room. Part of you still refused to believe it now, in all honesty, even as you walked arm-in-arm with the prince’s butler. Even as you wore the gown he'd sent to your off-campus apartment, a wine-red train trailing half a meter behind you and the fabric of the corset clinging to your skin like spider silk.

Even as you stepped into his rose garden, the rose garden. The rose garden you’d only ever heard about in gossip and rumors. The rose garden that was supposed to be saved for the prince and his select few.

The rose garden you were never supposed to see, and yet.

And yet.

A pavilion had been erected in the center of the innermost ring and decorated for the occasion, cords of red blossoms strung across the obsidian guardrails and a trail of flower petals left out to guide your way. Barbatos left you a few paces away from the pavilion’s steps, bowing his head as he detangled himself from your rigid hold. He spared you no words of comfort, offered you no advice, only letting out a breath of a chuckle as he slipped away and disappeared into the tangle of the garden. It fell onto you to soothe yourself, so you did – sucking a ragged inhale and balling your shirt in your hands before forcing yourself to relax, driving an ounce of tension out of your shoulders and willing your hands to stop shaking as you took an unsteady step towards the pavilion, then another, then another, until you were starting up the short staircase and it was too late to turn around and hide. There was a table let up on the center of the platform, a teapot and matching cups and saucers laid out among a sugar jar and an adorably quaint cream jug. It would’ve been charmingly simple, if the set hadn’t been crafted from pure obsidian and most likely would have cost more than a year of your salary.

Diavolo was at the head of the table, dressed in a suit that matched your gown. The sound of your footsteps drew his attention, his expression brightening as his eyes might yours and a wide, giddy smile you could only compare to that of a lovestruck schoolboy spread across his lips. He pushed himself to his feet hastily, your name falling from his lips with a slight stutter. There was a rose in his hand, but rather than thrust it into yours, he held onto it, opting to pull you into a brief, bone-crushing hug, instead. “I’m sorry to call you here on such short notice,” he said, his voice breathy and the words spoken quickly enough to blur together. “And I, well—” Now, the rose was presented to you, his smile taken on a shy tilt. “I thought it’d be romantic. Admittedly, it feels a little silly now.”

“No, no, it’s very sweet.” You rushed to reassure him, more afraid of making this more awkward than it had to be than genuinely hurting his feelings. You tried to take the rose by the stem, but your thumb caught on an unpruned thorn and you pulled back out of instinct. There was no pain, but when you glanced down, you found a small bead of scarlet, the injury practically nonexistent but an injury, nonetheless. Diavolo’s expression faltered, but you were quick to take up the rose again and tuck anything that might’ve sown any ill-will away. “You were going to tell me why you asked me to come…?”

Immediately, his smile returned in full force. “Please, have a seat.”

A chair was pulled out, a cup filled and sugar cubes dispensed generously. You took the cup in your hands, but didn’t raise it to your lips, only soaking in the gentle warmth as Prince Diavolo cleared his throat and went on, more nervous than a man of his status, a man with so much power over you had any right to be. “I’m sure you’ve already guessed why you’re here. I know subtly isn’t my strong suit.” A slight pause, a hopeful smile. Somehow, the implication of his anxiety alone was enough to make the knot resting in the pit of your stomach twist that much tighter. “We don’t know each other very well, but… I think I’d like to know you a little better, if you understand what I mean.”

Oh, you did.

You’d understood as soon as you saw the low cut of the dress, as soon as you were told you’d be meeting him in privacy.

Still, you played coy, shaking your head as you leaned back in your seat. “I’m afraid I don’t, your highness.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I don’t want you to feel like royalty, right now.” And yet, he’d asked you to meet him behind his castle, attended to by his butler, wearing the gown he’d had tailor made for you. You would to ask how he got a hold of your measurements later on. Actually, you shouldn’t ask him anything at all – it’d be a mercy if you never had to talk to him again. “I’d like to court you. Officially. With your permission, of course.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, but then again, your permission could only count for so much when a flick of his wrist and a half-baked royal decree would change the meaning of consent by its very definition.

You let your eyes fall to the table, then to the rose in your hand. “I don’t know how to say this,” A pair of pursed lips, a decisive beat of silence. “But, I’m not sure, your highness.”

This time, he didn’t bother to correct you. “You’re not sure?”

“As you said, we don’t know each other very well.” You gaze caught on the spot of blood still welling on the pad of your thumb. A minor inconvenience, but still an inconvenience. It’d make handling much of anything a nuisance for the rest of the day. It’d make you pause the next time you thought about taking a particularly beautiful rose by the stem. “And I’m afraid there might be some parts of me that you wouldn’t be so happy with, if you saw them for yourself.”

That seemed to catch his attention. Whereas you leaned back, he leaned forward, arms crossing over the tabletop. “I have to admit, it’s hard to believe that there’s any part of you I wouldn’t be happy with.”

“It’s just,” A thorn in the right place could ruin the entire rose. Hopefully, if you managed to break the skin, he’d give up on you entirely and move on to less pointed flowers. “I have some… appetites that people have deemed difficult to keep up with, in the past. It’s nothing out of place for those in my profession, but I’d hate for you to have to waste your time tending to my desires.”

You could practically see the excitement spark in his eyes, feel it rolling off of him in waves. “Please, go on.”

“It’s too morbid to discuss in polite company,” you said, sparing a glance towards the walls of the rose garden, as if you were wary that someone might be listening in. “But things tend to get gory rather quickly, and I have been known to get a little carried away when I get something sharp in my hand.”

The tea was put aside completely, forgotten in favor of more interesting topics. He didn’t stand, didn’t do anything to close the limited distance between you, but you could tell he wanted to, that he wasn’t taking your threats seriously enough for intrigue to dip into caution, and that was all you needed. “I think you’d look stunning with something sharp in your hand.”

“But I’d hate to waste your time,” you reiterated, bowing your head. “And your subjects might not care for me, once they see what I’ve done to their ruler.”

“We’ll have to keep this our little secret, then.” While you had your doubts about how secret one of his secrets could stay, he was clearly excited enough to buy into the idea that it would be possible. “And, as for your appetites…”

This time, he stood, rounding the table and falling to one knee at your side. For a second, your heart stopped beating in your chest, your mind forcing you to consider the possibility that your vision of rings and proposal might not have been based entirely in paranoid delusion, but he only gestured for your hand and reluctantly, you gave it to him. His lips ghosted over the curve of your knuckles, then turning your hand over in his own, the apex of your wrist, lingering against your pulse point. Finally, he pulled away, grinning up at you as he went on.

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to satisfy that hunger.”

~

You were starting to wonder if, even in your grandest of schemes, your eyes might’ve been bigger than your stomach.

It was old work. Diavolo – as he insisted you call him, despite your best attempts to keep a semblance of formality between you and him – was eager to please, quick to show you he was just as enthusiastic as you claimed to be and dedicate one of the more expendable rooms in his sprawling castle to your little engagements. The tools of your trade were discussed and crafted into familiar shapes: thorns braided into the lashes of the whips, runic symbols you’d long-since forgotten how to read burnt into the leather of the riding crop, a small vial of holy water waiting beside a gold-lined tub of water. Even the dagger you were holding was of celestial design, the blade symmetrical and gilded with pure silver, the hilt molded but not padded, allowing the chill to seep into your palm without reservation.

It was a relief, however small, that you wouldn’t have to use the demonic weapons you’d nearly gotten used to. In the Devildom, suffering was just another tool, something to be used when convenient and drowned out with needless hedonism when not. In the Celestial Realm, suffering was holy.

There was nothing holy about this, though. You’d had the foresight to restrain him, binding his wrists and ankles to each poster of his grand bed with enchanted chains, but he offered no resistance. Even brought low enough to fall into his demonic form, to show himself with leathery wings sprouting from his back and gold-adorned horns curling upward from his scalp, he retained as much of his composure as you could expect him to, keeping his claws curled into his palms and dulling his fangs with the occasional whimper or sudden gasp. When you dragged the point of the blade from the spine of his wing to the small of his back, he arched as if leaning into your brutal touch and clenched his eyes shut, but he didn’t scream. You almost wished he would. At least then, you’d be able to tell if you were making progress.

It was old work, but more importantly, it was work you’d been good at, once upon a time. Your mind might be out of practice, but your hands remembered how to move, how to cut, at just what angle to hold your dagger as you slid the flat of the blade into the incision. It was a delicate balance; applying enough force to cut through the connective tissue without tearing the epidermis. There was a slick sound from underneath your knife, a half-choked groan from Diavolo, and skin separated from muscle, leaving both intact and swimming in an agony of their own. It was beautifully precise, the kind of workmanship that should’ve gotten you a promotion. You could only regret that it was wasted on Diavolo.

Thick, dark blood washed over his tan skin, spilling out in every direction and distracting you from your task. With a disgruntled sigh, you turned to your supplies and took up the most limited of your precious tools: common table salt, imported from the human world and kept in a simple glass jar. You’d always known it had purifying properties that demons didn’t care for, but it’d surprised you just how difficult it was to get a hold of in the Devildom. Diavolo was strong enough to withstand it without being reduced to a pile of smoldering ash, but hopefully, the burn would be more than he cared to endure.

With great care not to get any on yourself, you took up the vial of holy water and undid the bottle’s seal, dampening the blade of your dagger with a generous portion. “Did you know that holy water can’t be diluted?” You asked, idly, taking one of the larger salt rocks between your thumb and forefinger and crushing it, savoring the slight sting before spreading the fine residue over one side of your blade. “My boss didn’t – used to lecture me for wasting it. You should really be more selective about your staff, down here.” You paused, bringing the point of your dagger back to Diavolo’s skin. You found your target quickly: the flesh over his shoulder blade, where the tissue was thin and the bone prominent. You drove it down with just enough force to break the skin, and in an instant, you were rewarded with the smell of burning flesh. “It was one of the first miracles the guys upstairs performed on Earth, after the humans realized they could it themselves without divine intervention. Remember to spare a drop for the next batch, and you’ve got an endless supply – as good as if it’d come from Micheal himself.”

You returned to the first incision, sliding your blade back into the slit you’d just carved. There was some resistance – Diavolo’s regenerative abilities were second to none, just as you’d expected from demonic royalty – but with grit teeth and a quirk of your wrist, you pushed through it, spreading your little concoction across raw, bleeding muscle. This time, Diavolo screamed, the sound animalistic and agonized and exactly what you were looking for. It reminded you of wind chimes, of church bells, of a timbre voice congratulating you on a job well-done as you stood over the maimed remains of a breathing corpse. Eager to chase that satisfaction, you pressed down harder, cutting into the muscle of his back before jerking your dagger back, ripping through tissue and flesh and leaving carnage in your path. You couldn’t just smell burnt flesh, this time – you could practically taste it, coating your tongue like ash and filling your lungs like smoke. Everything your blade touch seemed to melt, to scorch, leaving a filthy black char slashed across Diavolo’s back, infecting the wound you’d inflicted. If you were at work, if he were anyone else, you’ve taken it further, watched the blisters form down the curve of his back as you slowly and melodically removed each unnecessary vertebra of his spine, but he was a prince, and your goal wasn’t to kill him. You just had to make him wish he was dead when he was with you – that was all.

You dropped the dagger onto the stone floor, sucking in a harsh breath as you shook out your stiff fingers. You considered the whips, elegant in their design and brutal in the affection, then the golden tub, how good it would feel to string your fingers through his hair before you shoved his head below water, but the former would leave too many marks too quickly and the latter would’ve taken more preparation than you’d cared to make. Instead, you chose something you were less familiar with – a length of braided silver, leather handles molded onto either end. You slung it over your shoulder as you climbed onto the bed and straddled his waist. Out of instinct, his wings shuttered, moving to fold themselves against his back, but you grabbed the arch of his left wing’s spine and forced it flat against the velvet sheets, holding it still as the appendage squirmed and thrashed below you. “No fighting back,” you muttered, because it was what you’d agreed on as you stepped over the threshold to his little homemade torture chamber, because it seemed like the last thing you’d want to hear when you were at someone else’s mercy. “Remember why I’m doing this. If you don’t want to take, I don’t need to give.”

“That’s not—” Heavy panting between each word, all attempts at speaking soon forfeited in favor of an airy gasp. You waited for him to settle, driving a nail into the delicate membrane of his wing for each second he failed to spit something out. “I understand,” he said, eventually, marking the first full thought he’d managed to express since you finished restraining him. “Keep going.”

You didn’t move. “Is that how you’re going to talk to me?”

A dry swallow, a moment of hesitation. A demon’s pride was a difficult thing to put aside, even for a demon like Diavolo. “Please.”

 If he’d been anyone else, you would’ve made him grovel.

But, you could only ask so much from such a spoiled prince.

“Raise your head.”

No pet names, no dark humor, no purring or cooing or anything spared to soften the words. He obeyed, tilting his head back and letting you wrap the cord once around his neck once, because anything more than that would only spread the agony, make it that much easier to differentiate from the feeling of your weight against his back, dampen the awareness that it was your hands holding the end of his noose. You wanted him to know it was you. As you pulled the cord taut, you pictured him lying in his own bed hours later, blood washed away and wounds bandaged. After the adrenaline was gone, the excitement replaced with hollow exhaustion and the cold absence of affection, would he cry? Would the pain get to him first, or the misery of it all, the aching realization that what you were doing to him wasn’t something people did to those they loved? Would he curse your name, any heartbreak stifled by pure loathing for the person who left him in such a state of desperation? Would he hate you?

“It’s not the tightness that leads to suffocation – another common misconception. Your guys already knew that one, though.” Crossing both ends of the cords over one another, you cranked them tighter, then tighter again. Admittedly, this kind of thing wasn’t your strong-suit – you’d never been the type to rely on raw strength alone – but the sturdiness of the cord did most of the work for you, winding into itself and biting into his skin without cutting into what laid beneath it. Or, without cutting into yet, at least.

“It’s the pressure,” you said as you leaned over him properly, planting your knees in the plush of the down-stuffed mattress. “That’s the real trick - being able to apply enough force to crush the windpipe and cut off the lungs. From there, all you have to do is—” You paused, letting out a soft, strained groan as you pulled the cord ever-tighter. If you let go of the handles, it would’ve held its shape, but it felt cruel to be so impersonal. “—sit back and watch.”

There was a whimper by way of response, more pleading than pained. His mouth fell open, something that could’ve been generously interpreted as the beginning of a word falling past his lips, but you took mercy on him, clicking your tongue as you braced yourself for what came next. “Relax, I’m not going anywhere.” And then, after a second of thought, “Have you ever thought about what it’d be like to hang to death, your highness?”

Even if he could answer, you wouldn’t have let him. You hauled him upward suddenly, letting the cord rise to the sensitive junction just underneath his chin and winding it farther, farther, until it made good on its threats and a thin cut formed across the curve of his throat, a twin laceration appearing on the other side a few seconds later. He struggled underneath you, attempting to maintain his composure and control his breathing until instinct took over and he was left gasping, sputtering, trying to force air back into the lungs you controlled, now. Despite yourself, the corners of your lips curled upward, a profound satisfaction flooding through your veins and momentarily blocking out what little rational thought remained. Diavolo was depraved, but this was your line of work, your field of expertise. You felt phantom hands on your shoulders, lips ghosting over the top of your head. You deserved to be happy, when you were doing so well at what you were meant to do. You deserved to take pride in a job well-done.

Struggling, struggling, then release. His shoulders dropped, his form going limp, and just as his eyes threatened to close and his mind gave out completely, you let go of the cord, letting it fall back to the base of his throat. It took a few more seconds to detangle, another to rub the lingering salt on your fingers into the new cuts on his neck. While he panted, drooled, made a mess of himself, you basked in your holy reverence, newly purified by the sacredness of your responsibilities. You remained there, in that state of simple contentedness, until Diavolo broke the silence.

“Is that—” A harsh breath, a fit of coughing. Your mind supplied the rest of his question automatically. Is that enough? Is it over, now?

You almost smiled, almost told him that it’d be over as soon as he decided that he couldn’t handle you, anymore, but he went on before you could, his tone playful despite the blood now seeping into his sheets. “Is that all?”

You felt something very heavy and very sharp fall into the pit of your stomach. “Of course not,” you said, because that’s what you were supposed to say. Because when they asked for more, you were supposed to give it to them.

Because, if he wanted more, you’d give it to him until he couldn’t stand the thought of ever letting you touch him again.

“We’re just getting started.”

~

You could get to the rose garden on your own, by now.

Lucifer and Barbatos were already seated in their usual places, both looking uncharacteristically relaxed. Barbatos’ smile got a little brighter as you approached, and after you’d slid into your designated seat, Lucifer greeted you with a clap of his hands, a lilt to his posture. “I assumed you and Diavolo would be arriving together.”

You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You’d learned quickly, within the first month of Diavolo’s proposal, that you’d been right to assume you wouldn’t be able to keep it yourselves for very long. Still, it surprised you just how quickly he told Lucifer and Barbatos about your little trysts. “He’s still cleaning up.”

Barbatos’ constant smile took on a teasing quirk. “What a heartless lover you are, to leave him alone in a state like that.”

“He knew I wasn’t the doting type going into this.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d never claimed that any part of your attention would be the loving kind, that whatever polite affection you showed to him when he dragged you out to upper-crust restaurants and diamond-studded nightclubs and parties with only the Devildom’s most elite in attendance wouldn’t extend to the time you spent alone together. Love was a pretense, not a necessity. You could only hope Diavolo was tender hearted enough to be hurt by your callousness. “You’re the babysitter, here. Shouldn’t you be the one patching him up?”

He moved to respond, but Lucifer was quick to cut in, leaning forward as he spoke. “Have you two already—” A coy smile, a vague gesture with a gloved hand. You weren’t sure what’d gotten into him. You’d never seen Lucifer or Barbatos so giddy, even if the extent of their excitement seemed to be a few probing questions and a new willingness to bare their teeth without snapping at your throat. “—well, I’m sure you know.”

You swallowed, dryly. The idea of sex hung over your relationship like a funeral shroud, weighing the heaviest when you stepped over the threshold and into whatever makeshift dungeon he’d chosen for the two of you that night, when he spared you a smile that meant he could only be expecting one thing.  You didn’t want to know what would happen if he continued not to get it, but you didn’t want to sleep with him, either. You didn’t want to sleep with him. You didn’t want to give up that much of yourself, to fall that deeply into the den of vipers you couldn’t seem to claw your way out of. You knew, rationally, that you were already as tainted as you could possibly be, that Diavolo couldn’t possibly touch you in way that was worse than how you touched him, but your heart refused to give up on the idea that you weren’t beyond redemption, just yet.

Surprisingly, Barbatos came to your defense, although you couldn’t say he sounded very empathetic. “Keep your mind out of the gutter,” he said, in a way that implied that this was a subject they’d already discussed in-depth. “You know how hard it can be for fallen angels to adjust.”

“Not every fallen angel. It only took me a decade to make a name for myself.” He’d also made the choice to fall, but you thought better than to say that aloud. “It’s just a matter of getting a taste for it. Let them take the plunge now, before our little prince loses patience.”

You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said died on your tongue as the weight of two hands settled on each of your shoulders, as you felt Diavolo press a kiss into your cheek. You bit back a grimace, but the contract was mercifully fleeting, gone as soon as Diavolo straightened his back and directed his attention to the rest of the table. “What am I supposed to be so impatience about, exactly?”

Lucifer was quick to change the topic. “I was starting to think that you’d forgotten about us.”

Rather than turn to Lucifer, his eyes fell back to you. You could feel his stare, awful and adoring, boring into you as he spoke.

“As if I could ever think of anything else.”

~

You found yourself undressed and barely conscious on a golden rug in front of a searing fireplace a few days later.

Your body felt lighter than it should’ve been. In hindsight, you’d had too much to drink to be around another person, let alone underneath one. You’d thought, foolishly, that another sip, another glass, another bottle of wine would help to settle your nerves, to make you seem like an easier conquest than Diavolo would’ve liked, but all it’d done was make you too easy to turn up – prey that’d already been left to bleed by some other conveniently absent predator. It might’ve been your own fault, for assuming Diavolo would show more courtesy to you than you’d ever shown to him. It might’ve been your own fault, for going out of your way to pretend you so genuinely couldn’t tell the difference between cruelty and love.

Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear. You could hear footsteps somewhere in the muddled distance, make out a song of a hum just above the soft crackling of the fireplace, and then, he was back, settling onto the mess of sheets and pillows beneath you, an overfull goblet in one hand and the other suddenly cupping your cheek. He wore nothing, save for the chokingly tight collar of silver chain you’d wrapped around his neck hours ago. You could remember holding a tether, feel the strip of leather biting into your palm, but you must’ve let go of it at some point. Whatever happened, it was gone now.

Drifting lower, you could see where your nails had cut into his chest, his back, his throat. You might’ve bitten him, too – you could taste something heavy and metallic on your tongue, but it would’ve been impossible to tell if it was his blood or your own. He’d made no attempt to hide your marks, to wash the remaining blood and slick and saliva off his skin. They were filthy creatures, demons. Filthy, and sinful, and undeserving. If you had your way, they’d be left to dwell in their vile hedonism for the rest of time, left alone to their self-indulgent wickedness until they all began to rot. Or, better yet, brought to some great altar built to celebrate their demise, their beating hearts carved out and offered up in repentance. You’d do the butchering yourself, if you had to.

You wanted to dip yourself in a vat of acid. You wanted to bathe in light. You wanted to scream and thrash as Diavolo took your hand, then your wrist, dragging you into a sitting position until you could you had to rely on your own unsteady posture to keep yourself up-right, but you didn’t, didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound as he brought the goblet up to your lips. Sacrament, you thought, as you swallowed down as much of the sweet wine as you could before he took that away from you too, replacing the goblet’s mouth with his own. You didn’t kiss back, didn’t throw yourself against him and beg for his love, his attention, but he pulled away with a satisfied hum. “I think this might be when you’re the most beautiful,” he sighed, cupping your cheek. “In my home, painted with my marks, silhouetted by the firelight…” He let his shoulders drop, and his tone took on a wistful lull. “It’s a breath-taking sight, and you don’t know how much relief it brings me to know that I’ll be the only person to ever see it.”

Your eyes fell to the rug, nearly gaudy in its splendor. You swore to yourself that, if you ever managed to get away from Diavolo, you’d never willingly lay your eyes on a single piece of gold again. “Does…” You started, then trailed off, bowing your head before going on. “Does it ever bother you, knowing I don’t feel the same way?”

You wanted to be more transparent, to say that would never love him, to make it clear that all you’d ever try to do was hurt him, but even to your loathing-addled mind, the words sounded too harsh, too cutting with too little to gain from choking them out of your sore throat and past your bruised lips. Then again, what you actually managed to say didn’t seem to hurt him enough – his smile only taking on a softer note as he leaned forward, letting his lips ghost over your forehead. “Sometimes,” he admitted, with less strain than you’d expected. Less strain than you’d known you were looking for, before he responded so easily. “But not often. Not at all, when I have you with me.” He paused, brightened. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to love me?”

He was better than you. He was stronger than you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at all.

~

You rarely said anything to Diavolo at all, anymore.

Not that he minded. It was the shape of you by his side that he liked, more than anything – the feeling of your eyes on him, the awareness that if you were on top of him, you couldn’t be anywhere else, with anyone else. He was kind enough to explain his obsession in more depth after you first summoned the courage to ask, to tell you about his possessive urges as you raked a barbed whip across his back, to recount the names of those he’d rather die than lose you to in gasped breaths while you forced his head into a vat of holy water. There was sex, sometimes, when you thought you could stomach it, when it seemed like your usual pastimes wouldn’t be enough to stop him from resorting to less mutual shows of affection. You were more distant on those days than most.

You were more distant today than you’d ever been before. It was almost like ascension, astral projection – you couldn’t recall ever feeling so totally disconnected, only vaguely aware of the gentle throbbing in your cunt, the heat dripping down the inside of your thighs, the feeling of Diavolo’s teeth burrowed into your shoulder. You’d been lax in your preparation, too strung-out to really care if he got away. His ankles were unrestrained, his wrists bound behind his back with little more than a length of bronze cord embedded with thorns, not unsimilar to those you’d find in his beloved garden. They were strong enough to cut into his skin, sturdy enough to tear when he thrashed, and if you were more yourself, you might’ve been able to admire the craftsmanship, the thought that must’ve gone into each and every pinprick of suffering. You weren’t, though, and you couldn’t really bring yourself to appreciate much of anything.

He was making those sounds, again. Even in the face of your vow of silence, he was so fucking noisy – always whimpering or whining or moaning unabashedly while you dragged the blade of your dagger up the length of his spine, dispassionately watching skin split open and hot, crimson blood trail down his arched back. There was a raspy groan, a pair of pointed canines lodged that much deeper into your flesh, then you felt his cock twitch inside of you, still hard despite your motionlessness. It’d been months since the last time he let you take someone else apart, make someone cry in agony without having to listen for something less wholesome playing underneath the surface. If it hadn’t been for the raised lash-marks across his chest and thighs, the feeling of his blood washing over your skin, you’d be tempted to think you were the one being tortured.

With a half-swallowed sigh, you rolled your hips against him, letting your eyes fall shut and total, absolute numbness wash over you in heavy waves. It would’ve been a valuable skill to have a few hundred years ago, when you were constantly being reprimanded by your higher-ups for not being able to remain as stoic as your fellow acolytes, for caring too much about the responsibilities they’d assigned to you minutes after you came into existence. It was hypocrisy, bold and shameless. No one batted an eye when Simeon exorcised a small army’s worth of demons, when Micheal took to the human world with plagues of locusts and rivers of blood, but you were punished for believing what you’d been told, for holding yourself too close to the holy light. For doing your job and doing it well.

Diavolo drifted, drawing back just far enough to bury his face in the side of your neck, to press himself so suffocatingly close to you. You felt the ghost of a hand on the small of your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as a softened voice whispered platitudes of family and forgiveness and virtue, as it offered hollow promises of prayer and purification and, worst of all, love. He said you’d be able to go home, one day, after your penance in the shadows, after you realized how lucky you were to serve in such a benevolent cause. He promised he would bring you home.

Diavolo tilted his head back, his dark eyes meeting yours for the first time since you’d gotten him underneath you, and something in the hollow, frigid depth of your chest cracked open. There was nothing graceful in the way you drew your knife back, nothing purposeful in the way you drove it into his chest. You pictured vital veins and arteries, listed off organs even a demon wouldn’t be able to live without, but all planning and precision was lost in favor of driving your blade into him with wild abandon, plunging your knife into anything you could reach and twisting – turning anything you touched to viscera. Tissue was torn to gory ribbons, muscle diced and shredded, his skin soon little more than a failing barrier between you and what you were trying so desperately to tear out of him. You bounced on his cock as you worked, ignoring the way it throbbed against the walls of your cunt as you dedicated yourself to your task. When your dagger had outlasted its usefulness, you dropped it and took to using your own wretched, unforgivable hands. You found the spines of his ribs easily, tore through them with only the slightest amount of strain. You only noticed Diavolo was moving when you started to push into his diaphragm, his arms straining against his restraints as he thrashed beneath you – trying to free himself, or knock you away, or do something that stopped you from getting what you wanted. From hurting him in a way he couldn’t get off on. From letting you ever return to the paradise you deserved, the paradise you were owed.

His teeth burrowed into your jugular. He wasn’t trying to mark you, anymore – he wanted to end you before you ended him, to survive longer than you planned to let him. It wasn’t enough, though. You swallowed down the pain, muttering prayers under your breath as you surged forward and taking hold of the pulsing muscle in his chest. You felt something hot and awful flood into your pussy – a bodily reflex, you figured, although you’d start to doubt that in the near-future – but ignored the filth flooding into your veins, forced yourself to focus on taking hold of his beating heart and tearing it free from its restraints, from its bondage. Cupped in your palms, you carried it out of your chest with all the love and all the care of a midwife bringing life into the world, and finally, finally, finally, Diavolo went limp underneath you, lips parted and form limp. You let out a sob of relief, dragging yourself away from his unmoving body and onto the cold, stone floor; your legs giving out seconds later and leaving you in a crumpled heap, as useless as you’d always been.

Tears streaming down your cheeks, you brought Diavolo’s heart to your lips and swallowed it whole, its warmth lingering on your tongue for seconds. Then, you pulled your legs against your chest, buried your face in your knees, and started to cry.

You were allowed to dwell in your misery for one blissful, liberating second before that was brought to an end, too. “My love?”

You didn’t move. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. It was just another ghost sent to haunt you, another punishment for letting yourself think of anything but your orders, your responsibilities. When you heard metal snap, when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you only curled deeper into yourself, digging your nails into your thighs as something bloody and blasphemous settled beside you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to cry.” You wished you still had your wings, something to curl around yourself. You wished you could feel the sunlight again. “Was I not convincing enough? We can try again, if you’d like.”

You wished you could be anywhere but here. “Get away from me.”

“Having one of your little episodes again?” He worked a hand under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back. His chest was still covered in blood, flecked with bits and pieces of himself, but you couldn’t make out a trace of the gaping wound you must have inflected onto him, couldn’t seem to put what you were looking at together with what you’d just done. It was a visible untruth your mind just couldn’t seem to make sense of, an unignorable mistake in the fabric of reality that no amount of staring could correct. Diavolo sighed wistfully, the noise heavy with tender affection, and his hands fell to your waist, hauling you onto his lap as he’d done so many times before.

You could still taste the bitter meat of his heart on your tongue, still feel the mass of muscle and sinew lodged in your throat, and yet, as your head settled against his chest, you were met with that tell-tale beating, as strong and as steady as it’d ever been. As if you hadn’t accomplished anything. As if you hadn’t done anything at all. “You’re a handful,” he said, pressing a shallow kiss into your temple. “But you’re mine.”

He dipped lower, moved to kiss you, but you weren’t willing to wait as long as it would’ve taken him to reach you. With jerky, erratic movements, you shifted onto your knees, strung your arms around his neck, forced your mouth against his before he could do the same to you. There was a startled sound, a tightened hold on your waist, but Diavolo melted into your sudden affection quickly enough. Your skin crawled, your thoughts spiraling, but you didn’t care. You weren’t sure you’d ever care about anything again.

You’d already been forced out of paradise, tainted beyond redemption and stripped of any hope of returning to the light.

The least you deserved was to enjoy your eternity in the darkness.

[farfromharry]

Summary: Lando finally wins a race and learns all he needed was a good luck charm

Lando Norris x Reader

w/c 933

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

It had been a long and tiring journey for Lando in regards to getting his first race win. 5 years in Formula 1, almost 700 points and 15 podiums and he thought it was never going to happen— at least not if Max Verstappen had anything to say about. And then came along you.

At first you were nothing more than a friend of a friend, someone who had suddenly started appearing at group hang outs, who maybe caught his eye once or twice, purely for the fact you were an unfamiliar face. Suddenly you were everything.

It was a party for someone’s birthday when you spoke for the first time. He had come to the bar for another drink, only to be completely ignored by the bartender in favour of some pretty girls down the other end of the bar. You appeared a few moments later, grinning at the racing driver’s clear annoyance. You tapped his shoulder gently to grab his attention, “Watch this.”

All you’d said was excuse me, which he had already tried, and the man came running. You ordered your own drink and urged Lando to do the same. From that point on he was in complete awe of you. It was such a simple action and yet he thought you were completely fascinating. He had found himself so speechless that he didn’t even say anything to stop you from walking away afterwards. Only then did he realise he’d gotten a free drink too.

It felt like the next few weeks of his life were consumed by thoughts of you, until he finally bucked up the courage to start asking around. It all felt pointless until he saw you again at a party he’d thrown in the hopes you would show up. And you did. It seemed his plan was off to a good start.

He tried not to make it obvious that he was looking at you, or for you. He didn’t want to creep you out. In the end it was you that approached him, which took a lot of the fear out of the situation. No longer did he have to find the courage to go up to you— which he was really struggling with.

“I heard you’ve been asking about me?”

His cheeks burned pink. “I, um… yeah, I—“

You laughed. The sound was music to his ears. “It’s okay. I’m honoured, really. A world famous racing driver is interested in me?”

His eyebrows raised. “You know who I am?” The first time you’d properly met you made no indication of such, so he’d just assumed you didn’t know.

“I might have done my own research,” you shrugged. Not a single part of you seemed embarrassed about it though, not like he had. You were owning up to it, you were outwardly telling him he interested you.

And he knew in that very moment, he was completely hooked.

The first race you attended, not only of the year but ever, was the Miami Grand Prix. Lando insisted it was a good atmosphere, unlike a select few that weren’t always the greatest. It was also warm and there were places he could take you after that he thought you would like. You had no hesitations. All you wanted was to see your boyfriend succeed. You didn’t know all that much about the world of motorsport, but you knew Lando hadn’t won before and seeing it in person would surely be something special.

But he had his doubts. He had qualified 2nd, beside Max, for what felt like the thousandth time. He knew exactly how this would play out. But you didn’t feel like letting him get in his head.

“You’re going to win. You’re such a good driver, Lando. Believe in yourself.” He wished he could have taken your words seriously, but he didn’t have it in him to do so. He had already spent 2 years doing his very best just to get stuck behind the world champ anyway. His hope was burning out the more it happened, it was almost ashes at this point. But even if his hope did disappear, you were there to believe in him on his behalf. It was refreshing to have someone think he could win for once.

“I’ll try.”

You frowned. “If you won’t try for you, try for me?”

Apparently that was all the motivation he didn’t realise he needed. He was going to go out there and win it for you. He couldn’t let the first ever race you attended be one that was forgettable.

And when he crossed the line in P1? Everybody went wild.

While waiting for him to get out of the car, you were almost lost in the sea of papaya surrounding the barriers, but there was no way he would let that happen. He threw himself at his team first and as soon as he pulled off his helmet he was throwing his arms around you.

“You did it! You’re a race winner!” you cheered.

“I’m a race winner!” It felt so good to say. He couldn’t stop grinning. “You must be my good luck charm. Gonna have to come to all my races now.”

Your expression was a mirror of his. “If this is how you’re going to perform at every one, count me in.”

So it had taken him 5 years and a whole lot of time, effort and emotion to get him to that top step of the podium, when all along he had been waiting for the final piece of the puzzle to make it happen; you.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

[selineram3421]

*lies awake at night and has an idea*

[Its 4 a.m. by the way.]

Other Worldly

Prologue

Alastor X Shy Reader

(Oneshot turned short story)

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ selectively mute reader, mentions of death-drowning, shaking head = no, signing-ASL ⚠

They were an oddity.

How could such a meek and bashful thing like them end up in this fiery inferno.

Alastor watched from the bar as they bumped into the check-in counter and squeaked before getting off balance and falling.

Clumsy, jumpy, barely making a sound other than some odd squeaks.

Yes, they were quite the wonder.

An entertaining one.

❇

You were somewhat new to Hell. At least two weeks in.

There was an accident where you worked in the aquarium and well..you kinda caused a mass drowning? It sounds impossible but it happened.

It was very challenging to get up after your fall, but you managed and wound up at the hotel.

With the help of the Princess, you were able to figure out what kind of demon you are. It came with pros but it also came with cons. One con being that you couldn't speak unless you wanted to hypnotize someone.

It made you a little sad, but also relieved. You didn't do well around others, too shy to speak up or get involved with anything that put you in the spotlight.

Maybe it was for the best.

There would be one thing you wouldn't give up though.

❇

Alastor was in the hotel's library.

There wasn't a whole lot of demons coming into this room, especially after some guests saw him walk in here a few times.

It didn't matter. At least there were multiple things that could entertain him. A small music room with instruments, projectors in another with film reels and other types of tapes, and the most dazzling room of all was the astronomy room.

The Princess made sure to have this room's dome ceiling painted with an accurate mural of the Earth's night sky.

Deciding to mess with the trinkets on the shelves, the demon in red walked towards the back of the room and glanced at the star charts. Tapping at some of the books and measuring tools on the desk nearby before sitting down on a chair.

No one ventured this far into the library. He was probably the only demon who knew of this room's existence.

And then he heard something.

Someone had entered the room.

Turning around and looking between the shelves, Alastor spots the timid demon that he enjoys flustering so much near the armillary sphere in the middle.

A little spook wouldn't be too bad.

He thought with a small grin, starting to summon up a shadow creature. However both dissipated when there was a note sung into the air.

"Let's go in the garden

You'll find something waiting

Right there where you left it lying upside down

When you finally find it, you'll see how its faded

The underside is lighter when you turn it around "

The Radio Demon sat there, mouth agape as they sang.

"Everything stays right where you left it

Everything stays

But it still changes

Ever so slightly, daily and nightly

In little ways, when everything stays "

Like a siren- a water sprite? A nymph? It was hard to pinpoint what he could compare their voice to.

It was other worldly.

Their voice echoed due to the room's acoustics.

He didn't notice that he had gotten out of the chair, didn't notice he was making his way towards them, didn't notice when they stopped singing until they gasped.

Blinking out of his trance, he found them facing him and covering their mouth with their hands. A panicked look in their eyes.

"You stopped.", Alastor spoke up. "Why not finish?"

They shook their head quickly and backed away.

Before he could say something else, they moved their arms down, one made into a fist on their chest and moving in a circle clockwise. Then they ran out. (Sorry)

He stood there for a while, his smile widening. Maybe there was more to them than he thought.

How interesting~

I'm still on break but I couldn't help myself with this one. 🐚 (Old note)

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

.

Alastor ML I🎙 | ChL OW🦀

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part I

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 4K+

STORY PAGE

You could spot the birthday parties from across the room. Beautiful, rich kids and socialites tend to go all out, with the balloons and banners, ordering bottles or at the very least, top shelf cocktails by the dozens. On occasion, you might get a wealthy middle-aged businessman, or some guy who just made his first half-mil in crypto, ready to live it up for the night, but they usually kept a lower profile, not attracting as much attention to their celebration.

Zelda’s was a swanky, high-dollar lounge for the rich and the wannabes. In your two years as a cocktail waitress there, you’d learned how to spot the difference. Those with money knew how to spend it. Those that were only there for one evening of “let’s pretend” spent frivolously, cashing it in before - or sometimes after - going belly-up.

Tonight seemed to be just like every other weekend evening, the corner booths filled with decorations and Gucci-lipped twenty-somethings taking cell phone pics of each other. You gave your best fake smile, ready to serve anyone willing to blow a few hundred on drinks and hopefully dishing out hefty tips.

“What can I get you, doll?” you asked the blond at the end of the half-circle booth.

She gave you a quizzical look at first, as though you had just interrupted a private conversation. Then with a flip of her hair, she smiled at her group.

“Oh, I think Harry was gonna order for us all,” she said. “It’s his birthday.”

“And which one is Harry?” you grinned at the three young men who shared the booth, all dressed in suit jackets with their shirts unbuttoned past their pecs. Everyone at the table pointed to the dark-haired guy who sat in the center with his hands up.

“That would be me,” he remarked nonchalantly in a syrupy British accent.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Harry,” you raised your voice over the loud music. “What are we having for this celebration?”

“Tequila, the best you’ve got,” he replied, his ringed finger gesturing in a circle. “All around. And a bottle of Cristal.”

Two of the girls at the table cheered, clearly impressed with Harry’s selection.

“Sounds like a good party to me,” you nodded. “Be right back.”

Heading over to the bar, you heard the group cackle behind you. Then one of the girls shouted, “Stop it!” When you reached the edge of the bar, giving John, the bartender your order, you snuck a glance over at the table. The girl sitting next to Harry held her cell phone up to take a photo, the birthday boy with his tongue in her ear. Clearly the group had gotten a head start on drinks before they’d ever arrived.

“Another one of those, huh, Y/N?” scoffed John.

“Same shit, different day,” you commented, shaking your head. “Gimme one of the birthday glasses, will you?”

“Ah, which Paris Hilton wannabe is the birthday girl? Lemme guess…the blonde in the silver bandeau top getting her ear tongue fucked.”

You chuckled. “Try the fucker.”

“Oh yeah?” John raised a brow, placing the bottle of Cristal on your tray. “The himbo, eh? Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

“Why not?”

“Imposter Armani suit? I can spot it a mile away, honey.”

You laughed as he finished pouring the tequila. “Guess he’s out of his element. But he obviously wants to impress on his birthday.”

“From the look of the caliber of girls he’s with, I’d say I don’t blame him.”

You nodded, carefully taking the tray. You knew what John meant. Harry may have not been the typical socialite to walk through Zelda’s doors, but the women in his company obviously were. And they expected to be treated as such.

Returning to the table, you gave your biggest smile as you set out the tequila. You noticed Harry eyeing you as the rest of the group claimed a glass.

“This is your best tequila?” he asked, almost in a huff as though you couldn’t have possibly selected the best.

“Definitely,” you replied. “It’s a Siete Leguas.”

“Hmm.” Lifting his glass, he let the liquid swirl before taking a sniff.

“Smells good to me,” remarked the blond next to him. “But I don’t know much about tequila.”

Harry took a slow sip, his eyes still on you above the rim of his glass.

“What d’ya say, H?” asked one of the other gentlemen.

“It’ll do.”

Trying your best not to react negatively, you chewed your bottom lip. “I can get you something else if you like.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Not bothering to mask your frown, you took a deep breath through your nostrils. This was gonna be a long night.

“Would you like me to pop the champagne now?” you asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Harry gestured with his hand, taking another sip of his tequila.

Taking the bottle, you opened it with finesse, just the way you’d been taught and had been doing since you’d started working at Zelda’s. The girls all cheered when the cork popped. Harry, however, was not impressed.

Grabbing the special birthday glass, you began to pour.

“What the fuck is that?” spat Harry.

“It’s for you,” you smiled.

“I don’t want that. Gimme one of the regular champagne glasses.”

“I’ll take it!” beamed the blond on the end. “It’s cute!”

Harry rolled his eyes before handing the glass to her with a smirk.

“Here, Tawnie,” he said. “Pretend it’s your birthday.”

“Aw, yay!” she giggled with glee.

Trying to keep your composure, you poured another glass of Cristal, handing it to Harry.

“Shouldn’t ladies go first?” he remarked, scooting the glass to the girl next to him.

“God, I’m gonna be so wasted,” she laughed.

Swallowing hard, you knew where this was headed, so you poured champagne for the other two girls, then passed around the remaining glasses to the guys, leaving the last for Harry.

“Happy Birthday,” you said again, this time with no enthusiasm. “Enjoy.”

Leaving the bottle on the table, you turned away, cursing under your breath before making your way back to the bar.

“Jesus fucking Christ, kill me now,” you whined at John.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s a petulant, disrespectful asshole!”

“The good looking ones usually are,” John sighed.

“You think he’s good looking?” you twisted slightly to look over at the booth. Harry was laughing at something one of the other guys had said.

“Honey, don’t tell me you didn’t notice!” chuckled John.

“I was too busy wanting to pour tequila over his head,” you grimaced.

“Well, try not to let it get to you, hon. Just be your sweet self, and get that massive tip. The night will be over, and you’ll never have to see him again.”

With a nod and a sigh, you took the refills for the next table, handing them out with a bright smile. The older gentlemen gave you a thanks and a wink, one of them patting your behind as you bent over. You hated being fondled at work, but if you had a choice, you’d take that any day over dealing with jerks like Harry.

“Excuse me!” you heard someone shout as you started to make your way back to the bar. Speak of the devil.

“Yes?” you grinned, stepping over to Harry’s table. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I get a glass of wat-” asked a brunette before Harry rudely interrupted.

“We need water,” he said, accusingly.

“Sure, no problem. All around?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes. Apparently this man lived to be constantly perturbed.

“I’ll get those for you right now.”

“That should have been like…a given, right?” he remarked. “What waitress doesn’t automatically bring water?”

With a sigh, you slid your tray under your arm, pressing your hand on your hip.

“If you want water…or anything for that matter…you can ask for it!” you barked. “I’m happy to bring it to you. But you don’t have to treat me like an imbecile!”

“Jeez,” one of the other guys muttered under his breath.

“What?” Harry glared at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“You heard me, Birthday Boy! I’m just doing my job!”

As you started to turn away, you heard him mutter, “Doesn’t look like it,” followed by the rest of the group either giggling or shouting “Ooooh!”

You decided not to delight him with a response. Instead, you strutted to the bar where your darling pal John was already getting water glasses ready.

“Fuck me sideways, girl, that was rough!” he exclaimed.

“I’m done, John! I can’t deal with these assholes anymore!”

“Uh oh, looks like you may have to,” John averted his eyes to the glasses in front of him. Turning to see what he was talking about, you nearly ran into Mr. Personality.

“You owe me an apology,” he growled.

“Excuse me? I think it’s the other way around!” you yelled.

“I’m out with my friends for my birthday,” he explained, gesturing toward the table, “and I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me.”

“The way I’m tr-” you turned beet red. “How dare you! You entitled, self-centered prick!”

“Easy, girl!” you heard John shout, but you paid no mind. You were ready to have it out with this guy.

“What did you call me?”

“Y/N!” someone else shouted. Looking up, you noticed your boss, a scowl on his face as the entire lounge had turned their focus on your encounter. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

“Are you the manager?” asked Harry.

“Yes, sir, how can I assist you?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” he began, “but your waitress here seems to have a problem with me. I’m here celebrating my birthday with my mates, and she’s gone out of her way to be rude to me all evening.”

“What?!?!” you shouted incredulously.

“Y/N, did you have a problem with this young man?”

“No, sir,” you shook your head, your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s the other way around. He’s been nothing but rude since-”

“She just called me a prick,” Harry interjected.

“Because you’re being one!” You glared at the asshole, shooting daggers at him. You felt like your insides were on fire as you held your hands in fists at your sides.

“Y/N, if you can’t control your temper, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” said your boss.

“I’m sorry, but he’s so rude, Mr-”

“Y/N,” your boss narrowed his eyes at you, before turning to Harry. “Sir, I do apologize for my employee. We do not condone this kind of behavior at our lounge.”

You watched Harry as his shoulders fell, a breath releasing from his nose. “I should hope not.”

“Now…” your boss added. “What can we do to rectify this situation? Perhaps we can put your tab on the house?”

Harry raised his brows, surprised at the offer. “That would…yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

Your boss nodded, patting Harry on the back. “No problem whatsoever. I hope you’ll come see us again.”

“Not if she’s here,” Harry scowled.

“I assure you, that won’t happen.”

With a gasp, you watched your boss turn around and face you. “Get your things, Y/N,” he said in the most relaxed voice possible, as though you weren’t just getting canned.

“Are you serious?” you cried.

“We don’t talk to our patrons this way,” he explained. “I won’t allow it. Now, put your apron away and clock out.”

Your jaw set, you tried your best not to cry. No, you wouldn’t allow yourself to. Not in front of him.

“Fine,” you said, untying your apron. You slapped it down hard on the bar, then turned for the back room, but not before noticing the sly, satisfied smirk on jerkhead’s face.

Only when you reached the back room did you let the tears fall. Cursing at yourself, at Harry, and your boss, and at the entire situation, you managed to grab your jacket and purse. You almost forgot to clock out, but you figured you might not get paid otherwise. Sitting on the dark green leather sofa, you waited until you thought Harry and his crew might be gone. Then wiping your eyes, you stood up, nearly bumping into John.

“Oh, Y/N, honey I’m so sorry!” he cried, wrapping you in a big hug.

“What the fuck, John? Why does he get to win?”

“I don’t know. The whole ‘the customer is always right’ thing, I guess.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” you sobbed against his chest..

“Preaching to the choir, sister.”

“Is he gone yet?”

“Mr. Pretentious? Yeah, he left a few minutes ago. Want me to walk you out?”

With a nod, you let John walk you halfway through the lounge until you met up with your boss again who insisted he be the one to see you out. Just in case you were to cause a scene or some shit. As if you would. Not after that whole ordeal. You felt completely defeated…and deflated. You felt the eyes on you as you made it to the front door. Your boss held it open for you as you stepped into the balmy night air. With a sigh you walked to your car, turning once to give Zelda’s the middle finger.

Fuck that Harry guy. Fuck him to hell and back.

“Are you ready?” asked Shae.

With a sigh and a nod, you grabbed your keys. Last month you had promised your roommate that you’d go with her to get a tattoo. While you had been thrilled then about getting some new ink, after getting fired from Zelda’s, the excitement had worn off. In fact, you’d considered canceling all together, seeing as spending dough on a tat now seemed frivolous, and you could certainly use the money in case you couldn’t find another job soon. But in the end, you decided you owed yourself some kindness. And besides, Shae was chomping at the bit to get one, and she wouldn’t let you live until you went with her.

You drove to Fine Line Ink, just a few blocks from your apartment. You’d driven by it several times, but had never gone inside. Shae specifically requested this tattoo shop because apparently it was fairly well-known on social media. At least your roommate had done her research, even though she had no idea what tattoo she wanted to get.

“I’ll know it when I see it,” she’d insisted.

You heard 90s rock music playing when you opened the door, but saw no one standing near the counter, or even in the waiting area. The front room was dark, but with warm lighting, much like at Zelda’s. You could smell incense burning as you gazed around at the walls decorated in various designs. Wandering over to the glass counter, you inspected the display of body jewelry.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you heard a voice say.

Your body instantly felt cold as you stood up straight. You knew that voice. And it was one you’d hoped you would never have to hear again. Turning around, you caught a glimpse of his tall frame, his t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, his biceps peeking out from the sleeves.

Motherfucker.

“Hey,” beamed Shae. “We’re here to get tats.”

Shae gestured toward you, and your body went numb.

“Oh?” Harry raised a brow, then looked at you. The recognition and disdain both happened instantly. “Oh.”

Turning back to Shae, he asked, “Do you know what you want?”

“Not exactly,” she shrugged. “Nothing too big. But not too small either.”

Harry chuckled. “Alright. I have a book right here,” he pointed to one on the counter. “It’s got some ‘not too big, not too small’ ideas in there, if you wanna take a look.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“Take your time,” Harry grinned at her. “I’ll be back.”

He gave Shae a small wave, but you didn’t miss the way his expression changed when he glanced at you before he disappeared to the back.

“So what are you thinking of getting?” your friend asked as she perused the book. She stopped on a page of flowers, but scrunched up her nose. “Nah.”

“Um…let’s go somewhere else,” you told Shae, practically pulling her arm out of the socket.

“What? No! I wanna get a tattoo here!”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why not? I heard this guy’s the best. Plus…he’s like hella hot!”

“No, he’s not,” you argued.

“Are you fucking blind?” scoffed Shae. Turning the page in the book, she stopped and pointed at a baby lion. “That’s it!”

“I just…” you stammered, “I just don’t think this is a good idea anymore. I changed my mind.”

“Did you find something you like?” Harry asked from the doorway.

“No-”

“Uh huh!” exclaimed Shae. “This baby lion is so cute. It’s so me. I want him right here on my hip.” She jutted out her hip, slapping her hand where she wanted the tattoo to go.

Harry chuckled again, making your insides churn. You wanted to vomit.

“Alright,” he said, handing her a clipboard. “If you’ll just fill this out for me, I’ll go prepare your stencil.”

You weren’t sure what to do. You’d already promised your friend, and she looked so excited. You knew there were dozens of other tattoo shops you could go to, but Shae had picked this one. Why did it have to be this guy’s shop? Of all the fucking…

Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly in a nearby chair as Shae filled out her paperwork. Signing her name, she turned to you with a smile.

“Isn’t it cute? I’m so excited!”

With a gulp, you were about to respond when Harry returned.

“Let’s go back here,” he gestured once he’d taken the clipboard from Shae.

“Wait, my friend’s getting one too,” she looked at you. “Aren’t you?”

“No.” Although the sound came from your mouth, you could have sworn Harry’s lips moved too.

“Um…” you cleared your throat. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Shae asked, confused.

Although you didn’t want to, you gazed at Harry. His frown was so apparent, it almost looked like his eyebrows were sewn together. Finally, he relaxed his expression, pretending for Shae’s benefit.

“Don’t reckon I have enough time, love. It’s only me here tonight.”

You had to hand it to him. That was a good answer.

“Oh,” Shae pouted. “But I wanted to get tats together.”

“It’s alright,” you assured her. “I need to save my money. And I doubt there’s anything here I’d want anyway.”

You had to hand it to yourself. That was a nice dig.

It wasn’t lost on Harry, either. He scowled at you before turning for the tattoo chair, Shae following behind.

“This your first tattoo?” you heard Harry ask as you remained in the doorway.

“Yes. So please be gentle,” your friend replied, obviously flirting.

You rolled your eyes as Harry chuckled. In any other situation, with any other man, not only would you have encouraged the flirting, you might have even joined in. Both John and Shae were right in saying he was good looking…or hella hot as it were. Even you had to admit that. But you hated to. And you also hated how his laugh rang through the shop, like an invisible tattoo of its own, lacing with the sound of the Foo Fighters song that played.

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the door frame, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. You thought of faking an illness. You did feel like throwing up. But Shae wasn’t having it.

“Come sit over here, Y/N!”

“I’m fine here.”

“Noooo. Come over here in case I need to hold your hand. What if I pass out or something?”

“Do you pass out easily?” Harry asked as he pulled on his gloves.

“No,” Shae replied. “I’m actually not scared of needles. But you never know.”

You caught the grin on Harry’s face as he turned in his chair. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Y/N!” Shae whined. “Please!”

Rolling your eyes, you surrendered, walking slowly toward Harry’s tattoo station. You noted everything he had set out on the tray beside him. At least he seemed to know what he was doing. But you weren’t about to admit that. Grabbing a nearby chair, you took a seat on Shae’s other side, opposite from Harry.

“So, you want it on your left hip?” Harry confirmed.

“Yep.”

“Alright. So I’m gonna need you to pull down your pants just a bit, past your hip, and turn on your right side facing…um…your friend.”

“Yes, sir,” Shae smiled, happily willing to oblige.

You watched as she unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down as sensually as she could on the leather chair. You caught a glimmer in Harry’s eyes when he noticed she was wearing a thong.

“Seriously?” you scoffed.

“What?” he frowned, looking up at you.

“Do you have to ogle at her for fuck’s sake? She’s getting a tattoo, not stripping for you.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Believe me, joking is the last thing I’d be doing with you.”

Shae stared at you as she laid on her side. “Y/N, it’s okay! He can ogle at me all he wants!”

“Shae,” you narrowed your eyes.

“I think your friend can speak for herself,” remarked Harry.

Making a face, you sat back, crossing your arms and legs. His expression stoic, Harry pushed his chair closer to Shae, lightly swiping her skin with rubbing alcohol. Then he took a disposable razor to gently shave her hip.

“I promise I just shaved this morning,” giggled Shae.

“I’m sure you did,” Harry smirked. “It’s just procedure. We have to thoroughly prep the area before adding ink.”

Taking the stencil, he placed it on Shae’s hip, directly under her panty line.

“Is this where you want it?”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Good.” Harry ran his fingers slowly and smoothly across the thermal paper, and you just had to say something.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Blowing air between his lips, Harry glared up at you.

“Would you stop? I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me. Looks like you’re trying to feel her up.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?” cried Shae. “Do you have a problem with this guy?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

Shae sat up, looking at you quizzically. “Do you know him?” Then lowering her voice, she whispered, “Did y’all fuck?”

Hearing the question, Harry snorted.

“Yeah, you wish,” you scoffed, giving him the evil eye.

“In your dreams, babe.”

“That’s it, I’m outta here,” you sprinted out of your chair, heading for the door.

“Y/N!” Shae shouted. “What is going on?”

“I’m sorry, Shae, I tried to keep my cool. But I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” muttered Harry.

“Ugh!” you cringed. “C’mon, Shae, pull your pants up. We’ll find someone more competent to do your tattoo.”

“I believe I’m more than competent,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m so lost here,” Shae whimpered, still in her chair. “How do you know each other?”

When you reached the doorway, you turned to face her, your arms still crossed.

“He’s the asshole who got me fired.”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

Adjusting herself in her chair, she faced Harry, waiting for him to retort. But he remained expressionless, his mouth in a straight line. Giving up on getting any response from him, you sighed and gestured for Shae again. When she slid off the chair, buttoning her pants, Harry finally spoke.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” you glared at him.

“I…I didn’t mean to get you fired.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I mean it. I was…a complete prick to you…just like you said. And I’m sorry.”

“Pffftt,” you sounded. “It's a little late for that. I lost my job because of you!”

“I know, and I felt bad about it.”

“No, you didn’t!” you spat. “You were ecstatic that you’d gotten your way! You’re an asshole!”

“You’re right,” Harry nodded. “I deserve that. But I hope you know that wasn’t me.”

“Do you have an evil twin?”

“No. I was trying to impress my friends.”

“By being a jerk?” piped Shae.

“Yeah. I know it’s not a good look,” Harry shook his head. He rose from his chair, stepping closer to you. “I was seeing this chick, Nicolette…and she was…used to a certain lifestyle. It felt good to be part of her world for a while.”

“Doesn’t sound like friends to me,” you remarked.

“No. They just wanted to go to Zelda’s and get drunk. I swear, it’s not my scene.”

“You don’t say.”

“Look…” Harry sighed. “I’m not asking for forgiveness because I know you won’t give it to me. I have no real justification for the way I acted. I truly was a prick that night. But I regretted it later. I knew it was wrong of me, and I wanted to apologize but I didn’t even know your name, let alone where to find you. I broke it off with Nicolette, too.”

“Oh, jeez, that makes me feel soooo much better,” you said sarcastically.

Throwing his hands up, Harry turned around and began to gather things from the tray.

“You really have some nerve, you know that?” you added.

Harry spun around, “For what? For apologizing?”

“For everything! For acting like a big shot, especially when you obviously didn’t belong there. For yelling at me in front of the entire bar, including my boss, and for getting me fired. And for being rude to me as soon as I walked in here.”

“Hey, you were rude to me first!”

“I was not!”

“Hey, guys?” Shae interjected. “Maybe we should just drop it. You were right, Y/N. We shouldn’t have come here.”

“I swear, Shae, if I had known he worked here, we wouldn’t have. Let’s go.”

As soon as you pushed the door open, you heard Harry huffing. “Your loss, not mine.”

“Fuck you, dude!” you exclaimed. “And get a life. A real one, not someone else’s.”

FEEDBACK IS LOVE

[transformers-nerd-13]

As promised, here's my analysis of Transformers G1; More Than Meets the Eye; Part 1. (I'm posting my episode analyses of the three episodes separately for the sake of not making this an insanely long post because look at how long this thing already is).

We open with a narration giving us a brief overview of who the Autobots and Decepticons are.

We're introduced to Bumblebee and Wheeljack who've found some conductors (presumably energy conductors). They head back to Iacon, but are interrupted by a "Decepticon Welcoming Committee" aka the Seekers who all had different voices than the ones they end up with later for reasons that will never be explained.

Bumblebee is wounded in the battle, but we're going to ignore that because it never gets brought up again and he’s perfectly fine later. The Seekers go to report to Megatron while Wheeljack and Bumblebee make it back to Iacon. We're introduced to Soundwave and Laserbeak who are spying on the Autobots--Soundwave almost gets caught but luckily because Jazz is blind as a bat, Soundwave doesn't get caught.

Jazz reports to Optimus about a lack of energy on the planet and Optimus tells Prowl that they'll start the search mission for energy whenever Prowl is ready to launch. Cut to the Decepticons where Starscream is standing with the sassiest pose of all time and Megatron is doing the classic villain rant about how the Decepticons must find an energy source before the Autobots.

Soundwave enters and reports that the Autobots are ready to launch and Megatron says that they are also ready (I guess they had the same plan to go search for energy??). Megatron tells Shockwave that he is to stay behind and keep watch over Cybertron in the absence of literally every other Decepticon, but Shockwave assures Megatron that Cybertron will remain as he leaves it.

Starscream then decides now is a good time to whine about not being the leader of the Decepticons to which Megatron tells him that only a select few ever lead. Starscream tells Megatron that his time will come, but Megatron tells him "NEVER!!" before changing gears remarkably fast and tells...someone to prepare to blast off. (I'm assuming he was talking to Soundwave but he was looking at Starscream).

The Autobots and Decepticons launch their respective ships. But two asteroids collide causing an asteroid shower (yeah that's definitely how that works) causing all sorts of chaos including the Decepticons somehow losing their power and Jazz falling out of his chair. They get through the now suddenly very still asteroid field by using the Ark's laser gun and the Decepticons follow them. Starscream says that they should just blow the Autobots away since they've seen them, but Megatron says that he "wants to know what they're after." Um...sir? They're after energy, just like you?? I thought you knew this???

Jazz--who has gotten back into the pilot's seat off screen--reports that the cons have made a magnetic junction to the Ark and that he can't shake them. They try to use their weapons but their power is somehow already used up. The cons board the Ark where a (simply put) chaotic battle takes place. Somehow they lose control of the Ark within less than ten seconds of the cons boarding and crash into the side of a volcano and die.

Yep, they were dead.

For Four Million years.

Mhm.

Somehow the volcano erupting woke up Teletraan One and it sent out the Sky Spy (a little probe thing) that scanned some earth vehicles while the Ark rebuilt the Decepticons first (for some reason—literally no idea why it did this). Skywarp is revived first, and he revives the other Decepticons. The cons leave the Ark and Megatron declares that much time has passed and they're on a planet far from Cybertron (oh y'think? Also, how do you know? You've been dead for 4 million years!! Not to mention it took less than two minutes for you to get into space and crash on this random planet so it can't be THAT far) but their mission hasn't changed.

Skywarp asks how they know Cybertron still exists (fair question but unprompted) and Megatron says that Cybertron must exist (Lot of faith you've got in Shockwave there bub, I mean, yes, this is Shockwave we're talking about but he's just one bot--you literally left ONE Decepticon on Cybertron dude and he doesn't even know you're still alive! And how do you know that he's still alive??) and that they would gather energy from this planet to conquer Cybertron followed by the universe.

Starscream (for some reason) shoots at the Ark. Megatron tells him to save his energy, but Starscream fires a few more shots anyway, this time hitting some rocks on the side of the cliff they've been standing on that fall onto the Ark. This jostles the ship and causes Optimus to finally be noticed by Teletraan One and Teletraan is like "Oh scrap I forgot to fix the Autobots, WHOOPS" and fixes Optimus who gives Teletraan a thumbs up and a quick "Thanks".

Dunno if I'd be that chipper after being revived from death, I mean, I'd be panicking, and then I'd see my dead friends and see that the cons were gone and consider myself in some seriously deep slag so, Idk props to you for being optimistic?--Pun intended.

The cons set up a base by some tall rocks in the desert that are literally RIGHT NEXT TO A ROAD. Robots in disguise my boron compressor! Soundwave prepares plans for a new space cruiser (I guess in addition to being the communications officer Soundwave is also an aerospace engineer??) while Starscream is told to convert the area for construction and is told to "use his imagination" when it came to materials.

Starscream does NOT however use his imagination, he uses Soundwave's. He asks Soundwave if he has any ideas, and Soundwave points out a conveniently placed...radio tower? Power station? Truly have no idea what this is. We're introduced to Rumble and Soundwave instructs him to activate his pile-drivers, but Rumble doesn't do that because Starscream takes off for the radio-power plant thing.

Cut back over to the Autobots who have all been revived off screen. Optimus tells them that this planet is rich with sources of energy but that the Decepticons must already know this because Teletraan One woke them up first (thanks a lot Teletraan), so they must find the cons and stop them. Prime sends Hound and CliffJumper to go find the cons even though Cliffjumper wants to "boot some Decepticon right in his turbocharger" (whatever that means; probably ‘kick some con’s butt’). Cut back over to the cons where we see Starscream, Rumble and Soundwave landing at the power-radio tower thing and Starscream (unprompted) tells Rumble that some day he'll be the one calling the shots, but Rumble basically says "ha ha yeah right" and Starscream tells him that he will find a way to beat Megatron but Rumble is doubtful of that. Rumble then finally activates his pile-drivers and splits the ground a bit causing some of the machinery at the plant to fall into it halfway and Starscream says that he's impressed by this. You must be very easily impressed sir.

Cut over to CliffJumper and Hound. Hound says that he smells something and that he thinks he's just found the Decepticons (so you weren't following a scent trail before this?? You were just driving around praying you found something?? Also do the Decepticons smell different than Autobots?? How do you know it's the Decepticons and not other Autobots???) and tells CliffJumper to follow him but they stop literally two seconds later (the "follow me" was unnecessary, you could've left it at "I think we've just found the cons" and it would've been completely fine lol) having stumbled upon the Decepticon's half constructed base? Space cruiser? Really not clear what this is meant to be here. CliffJumper wants to fight but Hound reminds him that Prime just told them to find the cons. Right now the cons think the bots are dead; it's better to have them think that they're dead at the moment for the sake of the element of surprise.

Hound uses a little satellite dish in his arm to listen in on the cons who are conveniently monologuing their whole evil plan about plundering earth's resources for energy and turning that energy into energon cubes (which were a Decepticon invention in G1) and the new space cruiser.

Off screen, Cliffjumper has assembled a giant gun (where the hell was he storing that?? I'm just gonna say it was in his subspace) and says that he's "Got Megatron dead center in his viewfinder." And fires. And misses.

Dead center huh?

The cons wonder who could be firing on them and Starscream immediately says that the Autobots could be the only ones firing on them. Starscream. Buddy. As far as you know, the bots are dead. How is this the first logical conclusion you come to??

Soundwave sends Laserbeak to investigate and Cliff and Hound make a run--or, more accurately, roll--for it. Good job Cliff. Apparently neither CliffJumper nor Hound have ever seen Laserbeak before?? Cliff asks Hound “What is that thing up there?” And Hound replies that he doesn’t know. I feel like they would've seen him at some point when the war was still on Cybertron? Idk.

Anyway, CliffJumper and Hound split up because Laserbeak can only follow one of them, right? WRONG. Apparently Laserbeak can detach his guns from his body and still be in control of them??? So he sends one of his blasters after Cliff, who defeats the blaster with some mockery and the fumes from his exhaust which make the blaster explode for some reason.

Laserbeak shoots Hound and causes him to tumble down a cliff in the most dramatic way possible.

During the commercial break, CliffJumper apparently found Hound at the bottom of the ravine/cliff and went back to the Ark to get help in the form of Ratchet and Grapple, who would never again be referred to as "Hauler". Cliff apologizes to Hound for firing on the cons and getting them caught, but Hound tells him "You shouldn't have missed you mean" with a good natured laugh which makes Cliff feel better about the situation.

Yes, this is a nice moment, but Hound is unknowingly supporting CliffJumper’s reckless nature in the future. Cliff directly disobeyed an order from Prime and one of his teammates got hurt because of it. This would've been a learning opportunity for Cliff if Hound hadn't laughed it off.

Cut over to Thundercracker and the Reflector triplets talking about how they couldn't believe the Autobots survived before Thundercracker spots something out in the desert which just looks like a dust cloud. Somehow Thundercracker changes positions to be on the ground almost right in front of the van/truck so that it’s driving directly at him when he's taking a picture of the van/truck using Reflector's camera Alt Mode (how three bots transform and combine to form ONE camera that fits in the palm of a Transformer I will never know; I guess mass shifting?) instead of on the cliff he was on seconds before when taking the picture of it and after he takes the picture he's suddenly back on the cliff?? Thundercracker reports the vehicle to Soundwave saying it might be an Autobot. Soundwave sends Ravage to investigate for some reason even though Thundercracker and the Reflector triplets are right there.

The vehicle belongs to two guys in matching outfits with yellow hard hats so what exactly their jobs are remain ambiguous. The two men go to the radio/power plant thing that Rumble wrecked earlier, and they comment on how it looks like a tornado hit the place and that something feels wrong.

That's when Ravage attacks them for seemingly no reason and sends them running, and we never see those two guys again.

Cut to the Ark where Hound has just finished reporting what he and Cliff found to Prime as Ratchet fixes him up. Jazz and Sideswipe are also in the scene for some reason. Optimus tells Jazz to organize a battle unit and Jazz takes that to mean 'get every Autobot'. This is the cartoon's way of introducing the other Autobots to the viewer as Jazz calls out their names as they Transform and Roll out. This is a good way to introduce the characters, but it would've been more effective if each bot got their own shot so that it’s clear that the name being called belonged to the autobot on screen. But it was the 80’s so I’m not gonna harp on this too much.

Cut over to the Decepticons where Soundwave is reporting to Megatron that Laserbeak found a source of energy (apparently he sent Laserbeak to go find energy sources off screen).

Cut over to an oil rig where we meet Spike, Sparkplug, and a handful of other unnamed humans who are all wearing the same outfit of a white button up, blue jeans and yellow hard hats that we won't see again until Dr. Archevil (no idea how you spell his name; that weird cyborg scientist) shows up. The Decepticons land on the oil rig and all the humans decide to start throwing random stuff at them which proves ineffective (like seriously what did they think throwing tiny pipes and wrenches at giant robots was going to do??) and Megatron calmly picks up a giant metal tube and tosses it at four of the unnamed humans, and all of those humans end up in the ocean below, never to be seen again.

Rumble pins Sparkplug to the wall (I had no other way to say that, get your minds out of the gutter) and Spike punches Rumble in the back which does nothing but annoy Rumble who shoves him away in response (I'm betting that hitting Rumble hurt Spike more than it hurt Rumble). I guess Sparkplug must have some super strength because he kicks Rumble off him and dives after Spike who apparently ended up in the ocean after Rumble hit him.

The Decepticons make some energon cubes that really look like folded towels out of some of the oil stored in the rig.

Starscream gets all excited saying that they can go back to Cybertron, but Megatron bursts his bubble by telling him that this is only a fraction of the energy they need. The Autobots (who could fly I guess) show up. The bots land and everyone is firing at each other with the aim of a Stormtrooper.

The bots and cons duke it out on the oil rig and I guess someone knocked out Ratchet at some point because he's just...on the ground?? The cons get away with their Energon cubes/towels, shooting the oil rig to send the Autobots into the ocean below, and Megatron shoots two of the oil containers on the sinking rig which blow up and now the ocean is on fire?? (If someone knows the science behind this please tell me in the comments because I don't know if this is actually plausible or not) as they make their getaway.

After the cons leave, Prime hears Spike and Sparplug calling for help because they got trapped behind some debris and goes to rescue them. 

And that was Episode One of the Transformers. Overall a very silly episode but it's an 80's cartoon so what're you gonna do? It’s definitely the episode of G1 that I’ve watched the most and while it doesn’t always make sense, it’s a very fun watch.

Anyways, I hope this was enjoyable! I’ll probably be posting my analysis on More Than Meets the Eye Part 2 sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, stay tuned!

[sayornispress]

My most recent project, and most intensive project in a long time!! Halo Effect and Soldier's Heart by @alex51324. Five books in all, totaling over 1700 pages. Details, story spoilers, and more photos under the cut - there are quite a few!

In WWI, English soldiers wrapped their pants and boots with "puttees", and the spines mimic that look. Rather than actually wrapping, or cutting the spine cloth into pieces (which I worried would fray over time, especially with the opening and closing of reading), I pleated it and sewed it to the cover cloth (which is light canvas-y green but otherwise rather plain, so I'm not including photos here). The titling is flat gold heat transfer vinyl.

The bookmark charms relate to the story, of course.

Halo Effect - I felt that Thomas was defined by his status as a footman and this sets up his massive character change throughout the series, so the first bookmark charm is a footman's button, though not a Downton-specific one.

Soldier's Heart, vol. I - This fountain pen nib is from the early twentieth century. I found in the first volume that Thomas's social network, and communication both to and from define this part of the work.

Soldier's Heart, vol. II - My dad collects WWI memorabilia, including bullets (it's in this volume that Thomas is shot). He cut a bullet down for me to use for this binding. This particular bullet is English, rather than from any of the opposing nations, since he doesn't collect those (and I was rather lucky he had even an English one) but tbh I don't have the slightest idea what the difference is.

Soldier's Heart, vol. III - Y'all this is a genuine RAMC WWI coat button. I couldn't not use it. Wholly unmodified, to be clear, so if the book ever needs rebound or anything changes, it can be removed and reused as necessary. I chose this volume for the button because I felt Thomas really come into his own as a member of the RAMC, away from the war - and because I wanted to use the bullet for the last one, and this is the only volume this button would fit on, other than the last, but that's a whole other deal.

Soldier's Heart, vol. IV - Thomas, whose father was a clockmaker, becomes a chauffeur at the end of Soldier's Heart. My first idea was to use some sort of gear that resembled a car part as a charm. I come from a long line of magpies/dragons/Gollum-like creatures, and my grandfather had, in his garage, an alarm clock that belonged to my great-great-grandfather, gathering dust, because my grandpa had been meaning to fix it and just hadn't gotten around to it yet (he'd been saying this since the mid-seventies, at least - my aunt wanted to use it, since it would have matched her quilt). Anyway, we all gathered around the dinner table to take this clock apart, which turned out to be a rather violent act involving pliers, several screwdrivers, an orbital sander, a drill press, and a hammer. I got a few gears out of the deal, and my cousin (a mechanic) selected the one that looked the most like a car part, scaled down. So. Double connection.

It's a bit difficult to tell in the photo, but the speckled edges each have two different colors, and there's, again, a reason for each choice! Each color represents something specific:

Blue - clear skies/relative calm Green - naivety/he's got things to learn Brown - the muck of war Red - blood (Thomas's and others')

Halo Effect: Green and blue Soldier's Heart, vol. I - green and brown Soldier's Heart, vol. II - brown and red Soldier's Heart, vol. III - green and red Soldier's Heart, vol. IV - red and blue

The speckling is also more intense in the middle three books.

My signature throw, as well as a close-up of the hand-sewn endbands (each volume's endbands match the speckled edges of that particular book) and a bit better look at the RAMC button, though a bit blurry.

And next to it, my metadata page and the gratitude from Halo Effect. I'm very much enjoying this metadata layout, and here's as good a place as any to give some general typesetting info:

I used IM Fell Great Primer for the body text, 11pt, 15pt leading.

Next up, the details in the letters--each character has their own handwriting, and a few are showcased here:

Syl drew a face in the margins of one of the letters with Theo, and I mimicked it for the binding. (Yes I was in fact crying as I did it)

Don't be afraid to ask if you'd like to know the names of any of the fonts - all from Google Fonts, since I do my typesetting in GDocs. I love the first one, in particular (Joey's) because I so rarely use it. I'm very happy with how they all turned out, they feel like they match the personalities well, in my opinion, though I should have made a couple a touch bigger.

---

I think that's all of my photos! I'm so so proud of how this binding turned out. It had quite a long turn-around - it's not unusual for me to have less than two weeks between reading a fic for the first time and having a bound copy on my shelf, and I read this fic for the first time over the course of nine days all the way back in March. (Which. okay. Not that long actually.)

I had a really lovely time with the binding, as well, because I got so much input from my family and friends - my dad was integral in the whole process, not only in the donation of the bullet, but also in the design of the covers in general and in answering my WWI questions, and my mom helped me pick colors for the endbands and edges. My grandpa donated a clock, and my boss helped me figure out how to get the charms attached to the ribbons, and her sister helped me with sewing, so all in all this whole experience has been so wonderful, so special. I'm so grateful for it.

[thankskenpenders]

Sonic Superstars!

Superstars is out! And guess what? It's good! It's a worthy new entry in the series, and I mostly like it. Mostly. Except for the handful of parts I don't. As usual, allow me to share my thoughts.

(For the record, I got the PS5 version of Superstars. I can't speak for how it plays on older hardware like the Switch, or how the weird Steam version that seems to make you log in with Epic runs. But I encountered zero performance issues, personally.)

General thoughts

The thing is, aside from two notable flaws I'll discuss in greater detail below, I can sum up my feelings on most of Superstars quickly. You see, it's... a Sonic game. This will either be a blessing or a curse depending on who you ask. It's not a bold new take on the series that'll blow you away, but they also didn't fuck it up. There's no catch this time! There's something refreshing about that straightforwardness, given how rare it is to get a regular-ass New Sonic Game from Sega. It's just a new classic-style game where you can play as Amy, set on a new island with all new zones, and Fang is in it! This might be damning with faint praise, but that's what it says on the tin, and they did a good job overall.

(It also has co-op. That's nice. I didn't play it in co-op.)

It plays exactly how it should. At no point did anything feel Wrong. The graphics might not have the absolute highest fidelity, but I think the character models look really nice, and the levels look appropriately good with vibrant color palettes. A couple zones like Sky Temple gave me Klonoa vibes, which I like. One zone is an absolutely incredible homage that I won't spoil. The story here is minimal (as expected), but there are a few good moments of telling the story through the gameplay, particularly one very cute sequence with Trip. I did find a couple stage gimmicks moderately annoying (Speed Jungle 2 and Press Factory 2, looking at you), but like... I could say the same thing about Mania, and also damn near every other Sonic game ever made. There's always That One Level. Superstars may not raise the series to new heights, but it generally executes well on the standard beats of the series. It's an easy recommendation for all fans of 2D Sonic.

Really, aside from the two big flaws (we'll get to them), this game's greatest crimes are simply not being quite as good as Mania, and also coming out the same week as the more creative and polished Super Mario Bros. Wonder. If we hadn't gotten Mania, I would easily be calling this my favorite 2D Sonic game since... what, the Advance trilogy 20 years ago? I like the Rush games, but if you asked me to replay one or the other, I might have a better time with Superstars. And, yes, it beats the hell out of Sonic 4. It's not even close. Anyone who says this game is exactly like Sonic 4 is just being a hater.

...I guess I would say that $60 is a bit steep for this, but you know it'll be on sale for a more appropriate $30-$40 in a few months. This isn't a Nintendo game we're talking about here.

Nice little tweaks

Superstars also features a number of welcome quality-of-life updates over Mania, bringing it more in line with the design ethos of modern platformers.

You have infinite lives! No more getting a game over on the final boss and having to redo the whole final zone - or, god forbid, the entire game

Time overs are gone! It'll warn you before you go over ten minutes, but I have no idea why because it doesn't kill you anymore

The game features a hub from which you can easily replay previous levels, rather than needing to beat the game or put in a cheat code to unlock the level select

This means you can easily go back and hunt for any special stage rings you missed. However, as a tradeoff, it seems like you can only get one Emerald per zone now, rather than being able to get Super Sonic by the end of the first or second zone

You can swap characters between levels! No more having to start a whole 'nother save file to play as Tails

And those characters even have optional little movement tutorial rooms available from the hub, which is great for new players who may not know about things like the Drop Dash

And, finally, checkpoints now feature arrows pointing in the direction you were supposed to be going, in case you forget upon respawning

Of course, while you might not be getting game overs, Superstars certainly compensated with some bosses that kicked my ass.

Bosses

Here's what I would consider notable flaw #1.

I have mixed feelings on the bosses in Superstars. I don't think many of them are poorly designed - in fact, a lot of them are good, and offer fun moments of spectacle. But for a 2D Sonic game, they're REALLY long and drawn out, and by the late game this was starting to get draining.

Bosses tend to be the type where you have to dodge their attack patterns for a while until you get the chance to hit them exactly once, MAYBE twice. A few bosses seem to have quicker options if you abuse your post-hit invulnerability or play as a character with a double jump, but many will either be completely invincible or run away to the background for long periods of time, making it impossible to damage them outside of the allotted windows. And even if it seems like you'll be able to get in a second hit, many bosses turn invincible and skip ahead to the next attack pattern as soon as they take the first hit. Again, most of these fights aren't BAD, but because of this behavior they sometimes take almost as long to beat as the entire levels preceding them. This didn't bother me much early in the game, but against the more challenging bosses towards the end that kept killing me several minutes into a long fight, it got tiring. The final boss of Story Mode probably took me like an hour.

While this certainly isn't an uncommon style of boss design, part of me suspects they did this for the sake of co-op players. For one, playing in co-op means that you don't necessarily have to start the entire fight over if one person dies, so I assume the length is less of an issue. But in particular, true classic-style Sonic bosses that you can just hit repeatedly with good timing would go down in a few seconds against a team of four players. Likewise, the swarm of clones from the "Avatar" Emerald power would probably obliterate every Genesis era boss with one button press. So I get why every boss needs all these invulnerability periods, but still. I at least wish they'd made some of those attack patterns shorter and given you more frequent opportunities to deal damage.

Emeralds and their powers

Speaking of the new Chaos Emerald powers: they're neat, I guess? They're fine. I didn't use them much. Actually, I kept forgetting I even had them - although the game will play a noise and show an icon in the corner of the screen to remind you any time you reach a spot where a specific power is useful. Avatar, the first power you get, is at least good for getting a couple free hits in on the trickier bosses. Yellow's ability to slow time is obviously good, but, again, I always forgot I even had it and made it through just fine without it. I was also pleased to realize that the swimming power is useful for the water levels and not just for climbing up waterfalls.

Oh, and the new grappling-based special stages kind of suck, but they're not the worst, and I'll at least give them credit for trying something new. (Motion Sickness Zone from Sonic 1 does return as a bonus minigame, but I only did it once lmao.)

Battle Mode

I haven't played Battle Mode. Couldn't tell you if it's good or not. It did, however, give us official designs for Metal Tails and Metal Amy after all these years, and also it let me make this:

...Okay, enough beating around the bush. Let's talk about the thing that REALLY drags down the experience.

The soundtrack...

(This lengthy section on the music will feature some light spoilers for things like zone names and themes.)

Now, don't get me wrong. There are some bangers in here that I've been listening to on loop. But this is one of the most inconsistent soundtracks I've ever heard, and I'm not sure I've ever played another game where the music has such a sharp dip in quality in the back half.

As anyone following this blog knows, prior to release I was a little obsessed with trying to gauge what the soundtrack would be like. "Jun Senoue" and "new Classic Sonic game" naturally evokes the memory of Sonic 4, but from the start we knew Tee Lopes was involved as well, and almost all of the music previewed before released leans more towards the sound of Sonic Mania than anything else. I was hopeful! I was excited! Jun deserved another chance at doing another classic Sonic OST, and Tee is one of my favorite game composers of all time between his Sonic material and other works like the TMNT: Shredder's Revenge OST. I frequently thought back to this Sonic 4 remix medley by Jun and Tee as a reminder that these two could really be the dream team, bringing out the best in each other's work.

Sure enough, the front half of the game is largely dominated by the Mania sound, whether it's a track by Tee himself or one by an in-house Sega artist that's compatible with his style. Pinball Carnival Act 1 by Rintaro Soma (an up-and-coming composer who wrote a bunch of the Cyber Space themes in Frontiers) takes obvious inspiration from Mania's Studiopolis Act 1, to the point that I was shocked when Sega posted the track and revealed it wasn't written by Tee. Act 2, however, forges more of its own sound by leaning into the act's spooky haunted carnival theme. And despite being the music lead, the only level theme that I know for sure was written by Senoue in the front half of the game (Bridge Island Act 1) was actually arranged by Tee Lopes to give it more of that Mania sound. Hell, the level clear jingle is literally just the one from Mania. A few level themes by other composers don't quite match that style, but they fit in well enough.

But there are early signs that this sound won't be consistent throughout the game. Our first warning of things to come is the boss music:

When early copies started floating around and the soundtrack leaked, many, many people hoped that this was merely a placeholder, like the literal Sonic 4 Episode II music used in the earliest previews of Speed Jungle, and that it'd get replaced with a day one patch. Oh, those poor, innocent fools...

Even if you don't mind the poor production with the returning Sonic 4 faux-Genesis sound, this is a very simplistic thirteen second snippet of music that then plays a second time in a higher key before it loops. This wouldn't be the end of the world if the bosses were as short as the ones in the Genesis games, of course, but they're not! This theme is used for a ton of lengthy fights throughout the game, including an EXTREMELY long and tedious autoscroller boss at the end of Golden Capital Act 2. Maybe I would've enjoyed the bosses in this game more if they were paired with some earworms that'd get me hyped up and sell how cool and exciting the fights are supposed to be, but grating songs like this just made the minutes spent fighting those bosses feel like an eternity.

Still, boss music (and menu music) aside, all of the level themes in the front half of the game ranged from decent to great, with the peak easily being the phenomenal Lagoon City Act 2 by Tee Lopes. And then... I got to the back half of the game. And the Mania style completely disappeared, replaced largely with the dreaded Sonic 4 sound. That isn't the style for EVERY song in the back half, but even the ones that try something different tend to be weaker than the material from the first six zones, with less engaging melodies and less intricate arrangement. Many sound straight up unfinished, leaning on extremely basic synth patches with no personality. And there isn't a single track from Tee in the back half. He just disappears from the project altogether.

What this means is that we go from this absolute banger by Tee Lopes in zone 6, which elevates what's otherwise a bog standard desert level to a thrilling adventure:

To... this, in zone 7:

It's EXTREMELY jarring!

The thing is, this is actually one of the better tracks in this style. I have to assume this is by Senoue, because you can totally hear a good Adventure or Heroes era Senoue track in there once you get past the crude synth replication of the Genesis era Sonic sound. Senoue is still a great composer, as you can hear clear as day with Bridge Island, but he's working with a restrictive sound palette that doesn't play to his strengths at all. If only he'd bust out that damn guitar, or at least pick some better synths.

(And no matter what people will tell you, no, this is not an accurate recreation of what the Genesis's YM2612 chip really sounded like, nor is it representative of what it CAN sound like at its best. Go back to the Streets of Rage 2 or Ristar soundtracks if you need a reminder.)

While I can at least see what the Press Factory tracks were aiming for, some other faux-FM synth tracks are just really bland. They don't have anything interesting going on, and they also don't seem particularly tailor made for the levels they accompany. They're just attempts to mimic what Sonic 1-3 sounded like on a very literal level. Take, for instance, the Golden Capital Act 1 theme, AKA "we've got Sky Sanctuary at home." While the better level themes in this game enhance the mood or even completely carry the vibes of a level, the weaker tracks can really suck all the air out of the room and make a level feel like more of a slog.

What kills me is that there are, in fact, a couple examples of how to do throwbacks to classic Sega FM synth music well on this very soundtrack! They're just not the Sonic 4 type tracks. I love the Frozen Base Act 2 theme, presumably composed by legendary Sega composer Hiroshi "HIRO" Kawaguchi, who's responsible for all-time classic arcade soundtracks like Fantasy Zone, Out Run, Hang-On, After Burner, and more, as well as the hacking and pinball themes from Frontiers. Maybe to an untrained ear this doesn't sound all that different, but it has a catchier tune, better instruments, and stronger production overall. I'm also a fan of the track for Sky Temple, which isn't perfect, but it blends a few Genesis-esque instruments like the Sonic 1+2 snare with other instruments for a richer sound. If the whole soundtrack sounded more like these examples, I'd definitely be complaining less.

I really just have to wonder... how did this happen? How did this end up being so inconsistent? Many fans on social media are jumping to the conclusion that Senoue is just extremely stubborn and refuses to ditch the style from Sonic 4. I can't deny this possibility, but some things just don't add up. The almost complete lack of "retro" style music in the promotional material. The fact that the style just suddenly shifts halfway through the game, then disappears for the final zone, as if that's not the note they want to end on. The complete lack of any tracks by Tee Lopes in the back half. The focus on the Mania-style tracks in the bonus "mini soundtrack." And most perplexing of all, the fact that three of the first tracks you hear in the game were Senoue compositions that were given extra attention with arrangements from Tee Lopes.

This is pure speculation on my part, but it almost seems like they straight up ran out of time.

Perhaps Jun wanted more of his tracks to get full arrangements from Tee, or for Tee to contribute more songs, but things were down to the wire and they chose to leave in some of the raw Sonic 4 style demos. The soundtrack being crunched out in a matter of months at the end of development would certainly explain why Speed Jungle had to be demoed without its music a mere four months ago. It'd also explain why a game that's only a few hours long needs NINETEEN composers listed in the credits. And also the fact that multiple zones just have completely different, unrelated music by different artists across their acts. Did they need multiple artists working on different acts simultaneously, completely independent from each other with no time to cross reference each others' work, due to extreme time constraints? I'd buy it.

Ah well. It's not the end of the world. I've heard worse Sonic music. But I'll always think of what could have been...

At least the final battle with Eggman at the end of Story Mode has a pretty kickass boss theme, which ALMOST makes up for how bad most of the preceding boss music is (and the fact that that very difficult fight doesn't have a checkpoint between phases and took me like an hour to beat lmao). It even seems like it might be written by longtime Phantasy Star Online composer and recurring Sonic contributor Hideaki Kobayashi. That's the guy who wrote NONAGRESSION!!!!!!!

The postgame

Speaking of beating Eggman! It turns out Superstars has a good deal of postgame content, as merely beating the last zone with all the Chaos Emeralds doesn't take you to the true final boss. In order to do that, you'll need to do something else.

Before we hit the big spoiler warning, I'm going to give any future players who are still reading a warning. If you value your sanity... don't force yourself to do all the postgame stuff. Don't make the mistakes I did. It's not worth it, and it may very well knock your personal score for the game down a couple points.

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

SPOILERS FOR THE STORY, UNLOCKABLES, AND THE POSTGAME BELOW THIS POINT

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

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The bonus scenario

Sonic Superstars has a big surprise in store for anyone who beats the main story. For the first time since... what, Silver? In 2006? We finally have a brand new playable character in a new Sonic platformer! (I wouldn't count the player avatar in Forces as a full-fledged New Character.) Yes, after the credits roll, you unlock Trip as the super-secret fifth playable character. I was really excited to see this. Trip is cute, even if her masked appearance from early in the game is perhaps a more unique design than a Sonic-ified lizard girl who can only vaguely look like a real sungazer lizard. She IS the first new Sonic character Ohshima has designed since the '90s, though, so she gets points for that - and she gets even more points for literally turning into a dragon when she goes Super. We love a girl who can turn into a dragon, don't we folks? And her playstyle is fun, too, with a double jump and the ability to roll along walls and ceilings.

But Trip isn't just playable. Like Knuckles before her, she gets an entire alternate story mode of her own, which somewhat remixes the level layouts, generally makes things more challenging, and swaps out Eggman for Egg Robo. I was so excited to see this! It really felt like the game had so much more in store for me than I'd anticipated.

...Then I spent probably around three hours attempting to beat the new final battle with Fang at the end of Trip's Story. And it made me regret doing Trip's Story at all.

Once you learn the patterns, a lot of them are actually piss easy. But the difficulty comes down to a few misguided factors:

The fight is LOOOONG. On a successful attempt the whole thing will probably take the average player about, like... seven or eight minutes? Maybe longer? This is where I really started to get pissed at the game for making me wait through these stupid attack patterns before I could attempt to hit the boss once.

The fight is divided between two phases, one with Fang in a vehicle and another with him in a giant robot, with no checkpoint between them. Dying to one of Fang's bullshit attacks on the second phase means having to redo the ~5 minute first phase all over again. And, worst of all...

Fang has multiple projectile attacks that are guaranteed instant kills, even if you have rings.

Also there's a stupid desperation headbutt attack that can really easily catch you off guard and kill you, but I only got that far in the fight once.

It's the instant kills that got me. If those fucking immobilizing net attacks just made you drop your rings, or you could at least wiggle out of them by mashing buttons (EDIT: apparently you CAN do this but you literally have to button mash so rapidly that it's a crapshoot whether or not you'll physically be able to do it), it would have been totally doable! Kinda fun, even! Slow, but pretty cool in terms of spectacle. But nope! Three hours! Three hours on this! This is, without a doubt, the hardest boss I have ever faced in any Sonic game, period, and one of the hardest bosses I've ever seen in ANY game. All because of one attack pattern where making a tiny mistake means starting over.

The glitches didn't help, either. Something about the way the circular boss arena was set up in both stories' final battles seems to make the floor intangible sometimes for non-player objects. Occasionally my dropped rings, enemies I was supposed to knock towards Fang, or one of Fang's insta-kill projectiles would just fall through the floor randomly. This definitely wasn't my main problem, but it helped drive home the idea that this fight just wasn't worth my time.

After three hours of attempts, I gave up. I just went and looked up the ending of Trip's story, as well as the contents of the Final Story, on YouTube. Turns out I made the right call, because boy, that true final boss looks like dogshit. It's just a very dull fight against a big generic cartoon dragon. Apparently this is the thing Eggman was looking for. It appears and is defeated with little fanfare. I think I liked it better when I assumed the scary dragon being foreshadowed was just Super Trip.

...Also, hey, what's up with The End being very conspicuously visible in the background of the last zone?? I know it's just a cheeky cameo, but, like... isn't it supposed to be sealed away in Cyber Space right now? Should I be taking this literally? Does this have lore implications? This is one hell of a way to remind people that the timeline's been reunified, I guess

Closing thoughts

I really hate to part ways with Superstars on a sour note like this, because like I said up top, I mostly enjoyed my time with it! It's really just a small handful of particularly frustrating bosses and the inconsistent soundtrack that drag it down. Other than that, it's solid as a rock. Maybe wait for sales if you're not dying to play it, but it's definitely worth playing for any Sonic fan. Just... skip the true ending. I would have stepped away MUCH happier with this game if I'd done that.

I wanna try to end this on a more positive note but I'm tired, so, uhhhh... look, you can unlock a Metal Nights skin for your Battle Mode bot!!

Anyway back to jamming to about half the soundtrack on loop while pretending the other half doesn't exist, and looking forward to the continued Fang Renaissance with his upcoming IDW miniseries

[chillinglyadventurous]

Spooktober Day 4 - “Keep carving your pumpkin like that and there won't be any pumpkin left!"

Dipper and Mabel were in from California for about a week. You had been so excited when Stan had told you they were coming up. Halloween was in a few days. They’d experienced Summerween in Gravity Falls. Now, it was time for the real thing. You had gone out and selected the best pumpkins you could find at the store. Each was round with smooth sides. They would make the perfect jack o'lanterns. You couldn’t wait to carve pumpkins with your favorite twins.

The fall air was crisp as you set a pumpkin in front of each kid. The three of you sat on an old blanket. Dipper and Mabel on each side of you. Meanwhile, Stan was sitting across from you three. He was sipping from a mug, something that smelled spice, suspiciously like hot cider, but, knowing Stan, it could have been anything.

“Well, this is going o be fun!” Mabel nearly shouted, her eyes gleaming. The way she held up the carving knife made you nervous. “Ree ree!” She laughed as she stabbed at the air.

Dipper looked up at you with a roll of his eyes, “I hope you’re prepared, [Y/N]. Mabel takes pumpkin carving very seriously.”

Mabel gave a gasp of betrayal as she pulled her pumpkin closer to her with one hand. The knife was gripped in the other. Perhaps you should have gotten the safety kit, “I don’t take pumpkin carving seriously.” She plunged the knife into the pumpkin’s top with force you had only ever seen in a gorey horror movie Stan had made you watch, “I take it aggressively!”

“She cuts herself, you’re cleaning up the blood,” Stan sighed as he flipped through his paper. He wasn’t even looking. Who would trust him with children?

You and Dipper exchanged nervous glances as Mabel butchered her pumpkin. The sound of Mbel sawing through her gourd was deafening, horrifying. Pumpkin guts flew through the air. In no time, her sweater was covered. The blanket you three were sitting on was quickly stained orange. Stray bits got stuck in your hair, traveling so far as to hit Stan who was easily sitting about ten feet away.

“Stan grumbled when a clot of guts plopped into his mug, “Watch it, kid! You’re ruining my peace and quiet.”

Mabel giggled manically as her sawing continued, “Sorry, Grunkle Stan!”

Cautiously, you placed your hand atop of Mabel’s to stop her aggressive cutting, “Okay, girlie. Keep carving like that and there won;t be any pumpkin left.”

“The pumpkin has to feel the passion, the Mabel-ness. How else is it supposed to become a masterpiece to be treasured for centuries?”

“Dipper rolled his eyes, “Or it will just be a lot of empty space where a pumpkin used to be.” His face twisted up as he plucked a strand of pumpkin guts out of his hair, “Mabel, you do know these will be rotted in like a week, right?”

You snorted a laugh as Mabel stuck her tongue out at Dipper. Your smile quickly fading as she carved a jagged smirk into the face of her pumpkin. You’d never seen a scary jack o'lantern, but this one was. Perhaps you only had the creeps because of how good that girl was with a knife. Who taught her that? Who would trust this kid with a knife? Why did you give her a knife?

Meanwhile, Dipper was taking a more methodical approach. The more time you spent with the twins, the more you realized how much each took after their grunkles. Mabel was Stan and Dipper was Ford. Dipper was scientific, slow and thoughtful. Mabel, on the other hand, shot from the hip, each decision she made was determined in a quick second. She didn’t think twice, trusting her gut rather than logic, like Stan. 

“Are you doing anything special with yours?” Dipper wondered as he studied your still-intact pumpkin.

You shrugged as you finished digging out your pumpkin guts, “Something simple, I guess. I love a classic.” You watched as Mabel carved x’s where her pumpkin’s eyes should be. Did she learn that from Ford? “I don’t think mine will be as intense as your sister’s.”

You three continued to work in silence until Mabel dramatically placed the top back onto her pumpkin. She stood from her seat to get a better look at her handiwork. Her smile was proud as she bent down to pick it up, “Behold, pumpkin perfection!”

“If by perfection you mean chaotic destruction, sure, Mabel,” Dipper grimaced, “it’s perfect.”

“Yeesh,” Stan shuddered as he got a look at Mabel’s creation, “that thing looks like it wants to eat me.”

Mabel gave her brother a glare, recklessly tossing her carving knife onto the ground. You made a mental note to have Ford give her a lesson in knife safety. You definitely weren’t going to risk a finger in teaching her that. At least Ford had two fingers to spare, “You’re just jealous of my artistic talent. No one has ever made a jack o'lantern so unique.”

You nodded, “It definitely has personality.” You took her pumpkin and placed it on the front steps of the Mystery Shack.

Dipper followed suit, placing yours and his next to Mabel’s on the stoop. Stan stood to admire your work as he finished whatever was in his mug, “I don’t know why you kids bother carving those thingS. I say leave ‘em whole and sell ‘em for profit.” Stan patted the two whole pumpkins you had picked out which were discarded on the stoop before you and the kids had started carving yours, one for him and one for Ford, “These babies are gonna fetch a nice profit. Those dumb tourists will pay top dollar for a rare Gravity Falls pumpkin-” He stopped short as an idea formed into his head, “On second though, sweetie, why don’t you whip up a few more of those creepy pumpkins? Sell ‘em as local art.”

That night, you had managed to drag Stan and Ford onto the stoop where the kids were waiting so patiently. Dipper placed the tealight candles into your carved pumpkins and Ford lit them, “You all did a great job. Very creative, Mabel.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Ford!”

[gallusrostromegalus]

Who in Elephant is the most unexpected person to have any piercings? Who has the most, or the 'weirdest' one? And, of course, who has the most ostentatious jewellery, regardless of where it is or whether anyone actually sees it.

@brighteyedbadwolf and I share a headcanon that once he started running out of tattoo room, Renji got into body piercings in a big way, and also learned the value of moderation so he's gotten some interesting piercings done, but has learned to savor them and only get one done every few years.

His most recent ornament is a tongue piercing and 9/10ths of the fun has been seeing how long he can keep it a secret. It's surprisingly easy- he's picked up Byakuya's habit of not moving his lips much when speaking at an interpersonal distance, and only raising his voice when people are actually far enough away to warrant yelling.

Several people noticed immediately but didn't say anything because it's not, strictly speaking, their business what Renji recreationally does with his body unless he needs medical attention for it, and because Retsu also wants to see how long Renji can keep it a secret and what the fallout will be like when it inevitably gets out.

Ikkaku was the first to call him out because his little kohai was looking just a bit to smug about something, and when he refused to say what, Ikkaku took a shot in the dark that squarely hit its target. Ikkaku is now also seeing how long before it really gets out, but has perhaps been selectively hastening the process by telling certain people.

Shuuhei didn't call Renji out, but during a lieutenant's meeting, Shuuhei heard the rather distinctive *click* of metal on Renji's teeth, and fixed him with a nonjudgmental, but extremely knowing stare.

Renji is... pretty sure Byakuya hasn't noticed yet. He's hard to read at the best of times, and Renji is privy to the bizarre oceans of stuff Byakuya has somehow remained ignorant of, like dinosaurs. He's sure his boss will have something to say about workplace-appropriate attire when he finds out.

Pretty sure.

Byakuya is also not a snitch- he saw Ichigo's hollow mask transformation and kept his mouth shut tighter than a bear trap about it.

Actually.

Byakuya keeps his mouth shut all the time both figuratively and literally. Almost doesn't move his lips when speaking, and only opens his mouth maybe half an inch, even when he raises his voice. Renji has never actually seen his molars, let alone most of his boss and prospective brother-in-law's tongue.

Could he..? No, that's much too scandalous for him.

...right?

Rukia has managed to remain oblivious to not only all of Renji's hardware thus far, but is actually ignorant of the lower 56% of Renji's ink as well. As emotionally close as they are, she doesn't actually spend that much time in close physical proximity to him anymore, and her mental image of Renji is about six major changes out of date.

She *has* noticed that Byakuya gets a small dessert- something soft and meant to be savored, like a single slice of cheesecake, every year on April 6th, which isn't the anniversary of anything she can find. Nobody he knows was born, got married or died on that day, she knows he and Hisana started "courting" in the middle of July so it's not that, and it doesn't seem to be a sad date for him- if anything, he seems ever-so-slightly pleased, perhaps even a bit smug, whenever he sits down in the garden and takes three hours to eat that tiny wedge of cake. According to the house staff, he's been doing this for over fifty years now, and this befuddles her, but Byakuya is a singularly inscrutable man sometimes, and she is not about to deny him whatever small, harmless joy this is.

For his part, Byakuya is very pleased with how well his two stainless steel studs have held up over the years, enjoys taking some time to really savor the feeling of them by taking a long time to enjoy a bit of dessert on the anniversary he got them, and is still deciding on the funniest time to ask Renji where he got his piercing done, so that they may compare notes.

He's tentatively considering the day after Renji and Rukia inevitably announce that they are expecting their first child- a date some time off as the two are not, strictly speaking, engaged yet, but Byakuya is as certain of that event's coming as he is of the sunrise- both because it will be a humorously long time to have kept that secret, and Byakuya estimates that at that point, Renji will be in the first throes of impending fatherhood panic, and could probably use a distraction.

Byakuya is very fond of his prospective brother-in-law, and thinks this is a good way to demonstrate his affection.

[deartouya]

A LATE VALENTINE'S — LUCIFER

✶ summary: when everyone in the house of lamentation turns up with a letter and flower in their room and despite his insistence, it bothers lucifer that he didn't get one—or maybe he will.

✶ pairing: lucifer x gn!reader

✶ word count: 1k

✶ warnings: fluff, lucifer is tired and also very soft-hearted and deserves the very best, platonic love letters :)) + confession via letter, after valentine's valentine's fluff

Lucifer had never been a fan of gifts. They always seemed expecting, expected—insincere. Luckily for him, beside the rare assortment of upscale teas from Barbatos or new set of luxury pens from Diavolo, he rarely received them. His brothers had never been the gift giving type.

So he shouldn’t have been surprised when he didn’t get a letter.

He’s the head of the house—the eldest, the strongest, always seen as emotionless and cold—and nothing else. A position he leaned into readily; one of authority, never a friend or even an acquaintance. 

As softened as he’d become since you’d first arrived in the Devildom, he was still Lucifer. Groups scattered in the halls, quieted at his presence, conversations were kept humorless and cordial. He’d gotten used to it, found comfort in it even—it’d been that way for millennia. It made his job leaps and bounds easier, giving him the air of respect no matter how little he tried.

Yet despite his refusal to admit it, the hurt has festered—a stinging in his chest worsened by each new letter, the way his brothers boasted and flaunted them. It hadn’t been much of a mystery who had left them—a select few had access to the House of Lamentation, even fewer who had access to both the house and human world flowers. It didn’t help that your handwriting was so painfully recognizable. Mammon had been, predictably, the most troublesome over his lack of valentine—flaunting his own letter and cluster of buttery white daisies. He’d kept at the bragging until Lucifer finally retreated to his study to find that too empty.

He thinks it hurt more because it was you—you’d taken special attention to him since your return; sliced fruits arranged in flowers and smiley faces when you knew he hadn’t eaten all day, tea instead of coffee when he was working far too late for your liking, quiet company under the guise of studying even if you both knew neither of you did much work. He hadn’t even known he’d been expecting something, but he had despite himself. 

A knock pulled him away from the report—the one he’d been attempting to finish since he’d first sat down to work. Only one person in the House of Lamentation had the decency to knock, “come in.”

He attempted to look nonchalant—rarely ungloved hands folded in front of him, thumbs pinned in an attempt to stifle his nervous shuffling—but couldn’t quite fight the warmth you brought him. You looked timid, hands hiding something behind you and cheek caught between your teeth, “are you busy?”

It’s endearing that you ask, as if he hasn’t put off finishing incredibly important paperwork to spend time with you before, “not particularly. Is there something you need?” His voice is warm, soft in the way it only ever is when around you—particularly quiet and tender.

It seems to do a little to soothe your nerves, your shoulders dropping just a bit even as you adjust whatever you were holding behind you and a conspiratorial smile crossing your face, “I have something for you.”

Lucifer loathed the way his entire body perked, embarrassment creeping up his neck at his own eagerness. It felt childish, you hadn’t even said what it was—it could be anything, a muffin since you noticed he’d skipped breakfast, one of the little chocolates Diavolo had given you for Valentine’s, or a flower—weed, really, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you—you’d picked up as you often did—but he was excited.

You showed what you had then, a gaudily decorated card—thick construction paper covered in glittery hearts and swirling red letters in what was unmistakably your own penmanship—and a rose from the human world, smooth and rich maroon petals pooling over your hand and apparently dethorned. He loved them already. “I assume you heard about the valentines I left the others.”

“I did.” Lucifer hoped he came across even a sliver of disinterest, that the heat he felt in his cheeks hadn’t really broken through and his smile wasn’t too foolish. He had a feeling he wasn’t doing a very good job. “My brothers seemed to enjoy them, I think Asmo changed vases for the rose you gave him six times now—he hasn’t found one “glamourous” enough to hold it.”

It makes you smile and he feels an unabashed pride bloom at the sight, so warm that he’s worried he might catch flame, “I though it’d be nice—I know the devildom doesn’t really do Valentine’s day and I wasn’t able to get the flowers in time anyways but, I thought they’d all still appreciate the gesture.”

Your nerves were back, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the card and picking at the roses’ stem, “I wanted to give you yours, though.” Lucifer knows his face is flushed now, possessed with the overwhelming urge to cover his heated cheeks. Your hands shook as you presented him with the card, rose tucked neatly inside it. The petals were soft, buttery and smooth and brought the grin he’d been so desperate to repress to his lips, “I wanted to make sure you got it.” 

Glitter showered over the documents he’d been working on even before he’d opened the card, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Too enamored with your neat and practiced calligraphy, consumed with the thought of how many tries it'd taken you, the thought that you wanted his to be perfect.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Lucifer.” You’re still jittery, even if you seem relieved, “or—well—late Valentine’s day.” You only seem to grow more nervous when he finally opens it, toying with your fingers and chewing at your lip.

The inside of the valentine was as carefully made as the cover, written in pink pen and decorated with foam sticker hearts. The warmth in his chest bloomed. ‘You give my heart peace over and over again :P !! I’m lucky to have gotten to know someone like you, Happy Valentine’s day, Luci’. It wasn’t anything flashy or particularly striking, surely he’d gotten more poetic and well-crafted letters slipped into his bag and locker at RAD—but it was you. A paper heart slipped from his place pinned beneath his thumb featuring a much shorter note in a much cruder and hurried hand, ‘dinner at Ristorante Six whenever you’re free?’ 

Lucifer let the giddiness—no matter how childish—bubble up, let himself smile as he hurriedly rises, reports and glitter covered paperwork forgotten, nearly knocking a lamp from the corner in his haste. He takes a moment to attempt and compose himself, watching as a slow smile pulls at your lips and your nerves ebb into a knowing giddiness.

“It doesn’t have to be dinner,” he’s smiling in a way that feels so unlike himself, bright and soft and overwhelming, “I’m free right now if you are.”