#sarcastic little shit owns my entire heart

[ambereyesandwine]

Red Dahlia- Chapter 2

WC: 2,381

Note: Jason is angsty, sassy, and semi-smitten in this one. Bruce is an ass (this will continue to be the case). Jason finds out the reader is a fan of his. Getting more of Jason's POV in this one.

Beta'd by: @teaspacebar

Chapter 2:

Jason had just woken up when Alfred knocked on his door to tell him Bruce had requested Jason’s presence in his office.

“You’re taking a week off.” There was no room for argument in Bruce’s tone.

Jason was already fuming, and this ���discussion” had only just begun. “I don’t need a week,” he ground out through his teeth.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “How many stitches is it?”

“I don’t-”

“No.” He raised his volume enough to cut Jason off. “Cassandra told me you were hit, and three of us saw the bandage through the tear in your suit this morning. No excuses. How many?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and unclenched repeatedly as he wrestled with resignation to the order. “23.”

The older man scoffed. “You’re lucky I’m not benching you longer.” He pulled the stack of files he’d been working on prior to Jason’s arrival back to the center of his desk, and Jason took it as a sign he was dismissed.

He stood and turned to leave, only stopping when he heard Bruce speak again.

“Where did you go?” There was no accusation in Bruce’s tone, only curiosity, but the question grated on Jason’s ears anyway. “I know you don’t take supplies with you in the field. Do you have a hideout we don’t know about?” He waited for Jason to answer but received nothing other than his son’s turned back as he waited to be excused. He breathed a heavy sigh as he realized Jason would not be giving an answer. “Dismissed.”

Jason did his best not to rush from the room but closed the door harder than he needed to on his way out. He took a direct path back to his room and slammed the door there too. He returned to the mirror, pulled up the side of his shirt, and peeled away the bandage to once again examine the stitches there. They were small and precise, perfectly spaced, and holding better than anything he’d ever done on himself, and he didn’t even remember getting them. His skin hardly even looked irritated around the threads, which should not have been the case for a wound so fresh. His hand hovered for a moment over the wound as he considered the effort someone must have gone through to patch him up, especially through the suit. And then to cover him in an attempt to shield him from the chill-

No. He thought to himself. Whoever it was could have figured out how to remove his helmet and seen his face. They could have his blood. They can’t see tomorrow.

Just because he wasn’t allowed out on patrol didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to leave, it just meant he had to be more discreet about it. There were only a few hours until sunset. If he waited for everyone else to leave, he’d be able to slip out fairly easily. He could wear his costume under normal clothes and take his bike so he wasn’t jumping roof to roof with fresh stitches, and he would be back before anyone in the house even knew he was gone. He considered the gear he’d need but figured it better for the event to look like a B&E rather than a planned attack, so that nothing would trace back to him. And besides, he still needed to figure out who the person was. Simply taking a shot from the next building over wasn’t an option.

It wasn’t long after the on-duty bats and birds left the manor that Jason got himself together and left as well. The drive toward the apartment building was only a few minutes, and he parked in an alley a couple blocks away before stuffing his extra clothes into the duffle stashed with his motorcycle. He covered the rest of the distance on foot, over rooftops and sneaking in the midnight shadows of the city. His first stop was the landing of the fire escape he’d woken up on.

He landed silently, and found open curtains, with light pouring from the living room window of the 8th floor apartment. He noticed a couch that faced the window, well worn, with the same blanket from that morning draped over the back. There was a coffee table in front of it; a copy of Pride and Prejudice left open, face down on the table as though someone was coming back for it shortly. His eyes seemed caught on the book, one of his favorites, and something akin to familiarity bubbled up in his chest. He had confirmation that whoever lived here was the one who’d patched him up, and that they read the same books he did.

There was movement, and Jason regained his composure some, but realized the figure hadn’t seen him. She was too focused on whatever tune she was humming as she walked to the kitchen with a sway, almost as though she was dancing. She was beautiful. She wore her hair messily pulled out of her face and a t-shirt far too big over her shorts, and a small smile rested on her face as she moved. She was content, happy even.

Was he really about to ruin this? Something in his chest ached at the notion and the foreign sensation almost broke him out of the spell. But he watched as she pulled a mug from the cabinet and set it on the counter before turning her back to the window. The mug was dark grey in color, and on it was the Red Hood symbol.

His symbol.

A million thoughts and emotions ran through Jason’s mind as he was frozen in place. The instantaneous want to protect her was deeply in combat with his earlier decision to kill the person. But things were different now, weren’t they? You couldn’t trust a threat or money to buy someone’s silence in Gotham. If she had seen his face, she couldn’t live. And if she hadn’t?

Jason’s eyes refocused as the sound of shattering ceramic ripped him from his thoughts. She was staring right at him.

-

There was not a single spared thought for your favorite mug now shattered at your feet. You felt your stomach on the floor and your heart in your throat as you stared at him. The Red Hood was on your fire escape again, though this time entirely conscious, and he stared back.

Every instinct told you this was bad, that it was time to run, but you forced your feet to stay. If he wanted you dead, you would be already, you told yourself. And there was no chance you’d be able to outrun him anyway. At least not for long. “What do you want?” You did your best to hide your fear as you asked the question.

“Open the window.”

Your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear your own thoughts. You were surprised you could hear him. “And if I say no?”

He pulled two batons from his belt. “Then in a week your neighbors start asking the landlord about the smell.”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and you nodded, the motion small and fast. Before you moved, you grabbed a towel from the counter and dropped it over the spill, with a faint hope that it wouldn’t stain. As though that was the biggest of your worries.

The approach to the window was cautious. You unlocked the latch and began to pull it open, but before you could get it very far, the man on the other side slipped his fingers through and wrenched it the rest of the way open. You scrambled backward as he ducked in through the window.

The room became quiet again, aside from the sounds of the city coming in with the breeze, and you watched as the Red Hood looked around your apartment. His head turned slowly as you could only assume he inspected it all. He paused briefly, facing the table covered in vials and canisters and your microscope, before returning his gaze to yours. Or at least you assumed, given that you could not see his eyes.

“You treated me yesterday.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” you answered, doing your best not to allow your voice to shake. Even inside, where he couldn’t use the darkness to help obscure his form, he was menacing.

Jason stopped stalking forward, something in the back of his head begging him not to scare you. “Why?”

Confusion crossed your face at his question. That was it? That’s why he was here? “What?” You asked.

“Why did you do it?” He hoped the vocal modulator in his mask would hide the slight crack in his tone, his uncertainty slipping into his speech.

“Uh…” you were genuinely at a loss for words. It seemed like such an obvious answer. “You needed help, I didn’t-” a sharp inhale gave you the breath to continue, “You fell onto my fire escape unconscious and bleeding everywhere, what was I supposed to do?”

Jason’s face curdled in disgust under his mask. “You honestly expect me to believe you helped someone just because they needed it?”

“Don’t you do that?” You questioned in return, eyes narrowed, searching for an answer in his body language. “Or do you just go around saving peoples’ lives anonymously for fun?”

He inhaled to begin a reply but fell short when he found he had nothing to say.

You felt the conversation fall open, so you continued, “You and the other vigilantes do everything to keep people here safe and you don’t ever ask for anything in return. Have you not considered other people might do that for you?”

His stomach flipped at the notion. You did cover him up last night. His eyes flicked to the blanket, draped over the back of the couch like nothing had ever happened. He ground his teeth in attempt to bite back the guilt at having questioned you in the first place. “You said I was bleeding. What did you do with it?”

“Your blood?” Shock seeped through your voice at the question.

He huffed in frustration. “Yes, my blood, which could very easily be used to identify me. Did you keep any?”

You clicked your tongue. “Ah. No, I got rid of every scrap today. My job has a biohazard disposal site.” You watched his shoulders soften slightly, clearly satisfied with your answer.

“And my helmet?”

“Stayed on you the whole time.” You raised your hands in mock surrender. “The only thing I moved was the edges of your uniform around the wound, and only long enough to fix it up and bandage it.” You looked to his side where you knew the bandages must still be and saw no tear in the uniform, and no bulk from the covering you’d put on. If he was using a smaller bandage, then the stitches were already well on their way to healing. The compound was doing its job.

“Thanks,” came out of Jason’s mouth before he could stop himself and it caught both of you off guard.

Your reply was a hesitant but genuine, “You’re welcome.”

A small smile formed on your face and Jason felt the back of neck and ears heat up at the sight. He immediately turned back toward the window to leave, irrationally worried that you’d somehow be able to see him through the mask.

“Wait!” When you called for him, he froze, waiting. “They aren’t dissolvable, you’ll need to pull them in 4 days or so.”

He snorted at the idea. “4 days? For a gunshot wound?” He turned back to look at you, trying to determine whether you were serious. “What, are they magical stitches now?”

You huffed a small laugh at the implication. “No, just-” You paused, trying to think of a way to explain. “Trust me.”

I do. Jason crushed the thought faster than he’d ever shot down a feeling before. He shoved every ounce of skepticism he could muster into his response, “Right. Sure.” He turned back to the window and was through it in a moment.  He already had a hand on the roof access ladder when he stopped. You weren’t in his line of sight anymore, but he’d heard you follow to close the window after him. “You can’t tell anyone I was here.” The sentence hurt like a goodbye, and he couldn’t find a reason for it.

“I know.” And you wouldn’t say a word. You knew how important this was, and you’d made that decision long before he’d asked.

You never heard him leave. It was felt more than anything, almost like a source of gravity was gone, and you closed and locked the window. You went back to where the mug had shattered, picked up all the pieces, and got the mop to clean up the half-dried, sticky, puddle of coffee. You shook your head as you examined the piece of ceramic that bore most of the center piece of the Red Hood logo. As your thumb ran over it, your thoughts wandered. He’d come with a threat to kill you, but left you alive and thanked you. You hadn’t expected anything to come from that, only wanting to help when you could, but to know he appreciated it, truly, was a feeling you didn’t have the energy to put words to. The mostly intact logo was the only piece of the mug you saved; it was rinsed and dried, then tucked onto a bookshelf.

You went back to the couch to sit, wanting anything but to be on your feet a minute longer, and picked your book back up. You tried to read, to pretend everything was normal, but found yourself having to go back over the same paragraph over and over as your mind raced, thinking about everything that just happened. The decision to go to bed was an easy one when exhaustion set in. Adrenaline crashes always hit you like this, always made you feel like your bones all rested right against each other with no tissue between them.

At least you have tomorrow off, you thought to yourself as you shut the lights off and made your way to bed. You weren’t even sure whether your head was on your pillow yet when you fell asleep.

[kitkat13001]

⋆｡°✩🎃 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚝

>> tomura shigaraki x civilian!reader

>> cursing, reader is scared of horror movies, mentions of serial killers, weapons, typical halloween stuff etc

tomura’s pretty sure your ear-splitting, blood-curdling scream can be heard across the entirety of japan. 

all he had done was tap on your window, same as he had every time he visited you. except that he had done so as you were in the middle of a horror movie, and now he’s pretty sure his ears are bleeding. 

he’s quick to climb inside and cover your mouth, shushing you gently with his arms around you while he waits for your heart rate to return to normal. 

“your neighbors are going to start asking questions,” he grumbles once he lets you go (after you’ve stopped shaking). 

you wave a dismissive hand. “they don’t give a damn. they’re all ten times worse than i am. ‘sides, if any of them give me shit, i’ll just send my evil villain boyfriend after them.”

this elicits a laugh from him. 

you settle back onto the couch while tomura makes himself comfortable, hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes before coming to lay out beside you. 

he squints at the screen, the horrified face of jamie lee curtis staring back at him. “whatcha watchin’ that’s got you so freaked?”

you bunch up the blanket all the way up to your face, burrowing into his side. “halloween, 1978. one of my coworkers bet i was too scared to watch a horror movie, so i’m gonna show her.” you murmur a spiteful ‘bitch’ under your breath and it makes tomura chuckle. 

“oh yeah,” he agrees sarcastically, nudging your leg with his own. “you and your little blanket against the world.”

you shoot him a look, sitting up to glare at him. “i can be brave!”

tomura just stares blankly, not dignifying you with an answer. he knows you can’t, but he doesn’t want to burst your bubble. 

you huff at him before collapsing back against his side, hitting play on the movie. 

the actress is mid-scream—you had to have known based on the way the movie was paused—but you jump anyway when she screeches. 

tomura tries not to laugh. 

it goes on like this for the next hour. you’re watching the movie from behind your blanket, nails digging into tomura’s arm, and he’s watching you as you jump and flinch and bury your face in his side. 

you sit, horrified, as the credits roll. 

“that was awful.”

“yeah,” tomura agrees, throwing a piece of popcorn at the screen. “the kill scenes were shit.”

“but the music was so damn creepy!” you insist, shivering. you lay against him for a while longer, letting the credits roll as you get comfortable. 

tomura’s nearly dozing off when he feels you tug on his sweater sleeve. 

“tomu, i have to pee.”

he peeks one eye open at you to give you a look before he leans his head back again. “okay?”

“come with me!”

“to pee?!”

“what if michael myers is in the bathroom?!” you cry, pulling on his sleeve insistently. 

he groans loudly, grumbling and complaining the entire way to the bathroom as you drag him with you. 

you shove him inside first, flicking on the lights with a yelp. 

“now check behind the shower curtain,” you tell him with a shooing motion. 

“you’re shitting me.”

“tomu!”

he huffs, knocking your curtain aside to check for serial killers. “see? no psychopaths in here.”

“except for you,” you giggle as he scowls at you. you make your way to the toilet, but he flicks the light off and you scream. 

he snickers at your cursing, dodging the roll of toilet paper you throw at him when you come out of the bathroom. 

“you’re such an asshole!”

he pulls you in as you grumble, but succumb to his warm embrace. 

“don’t be such a baby. you know i’d never let anything happen to you. some psycho with a knife’s got nothin’ on me, sweetheart. it’s me they should be scared of.”

you give a little ‘hmph’, but his words ease your nerves a little. that, and the warmth and safety of his arms around you. 

the way you burrow further into him, hands gripping the sides of his hoodie, makes him smile a little. tomura’s not capable of a significant amount of good, being a villain and all. but protecting you is, and will always be, second nature to him. 

i just watched halloween for the first time and was thoroughly creeped out. i hate horror movies, in case it wasn’t obvious. but i wanted to write something for tomura for the spooky season! stay tuned for spooky dabi :p 👻

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !

[rafedaddy01]

Summary: reader and Rafe are enemies, but their families are super close so they are forced to go on a trip together where they end up sharing a room. One thing leads to another and they end up sharing more than just a room together.

Warnings: smut

Notes: this was a request. It was anonymous so I’m not sure who sent it in but thank you! Btw, I got ALL of your guys’s requests, thank you so much!!! I asked and you guys really delivered. I will get all of them just be patient with me 🧡🥹

You and Rafe NEVER got along. It was a mutual thing.

Anytime your family would gather the two of you would just spend the entire time arguing, about little things.

For example, one time your family was at Rafes house and the way he chewed with his mouth opened bothered you. You kindly asked him to stop and he went off on you. He is such a drama queen.

So when you got the news that your two families would be going camping together… boy oh boy. It would definitely be an eventful weekend.

“Great” you curse under your breath as you try to set up your tent but struggle. You hear snickering behind you and turn to see the eldest Cameron.

You roll your eyes and turn back around.

“Y/n. You’ll be sharing a tent with Rafe”

“What!” You exclaim back to your mother who rolls her eyes at your annoyance.

“Don’t make a scene! Be a reasonable person. You know Sarah has issues with you” you mother explains.

You roll your eyes.

Sarah.

She hated you and for no reason at that.

She could sometimes be worse than her older brother, sometimes.

“Fine” you grumble as you unzip your tent and carry your bag inside.

“Hi roomie”

You roll your eyes as the vein in your forehead try’s to burst free.

“Careful, one day they’ll get stuck like that”

“Good. Then I won’t have to look at you anymore”

Rafe steps back and places a hand over his heart, almost like you had hurt him. “Ouch” he says sarcastically. “And I thought you were starting to like me”

“In your dreams Cameron. There isn’t a bone in my body that could ever like you” your up in his face at this point.

He looks down at you with a smirk.

“Not one?” He asks smugly.

You cock an eyebrow at him

“Not even.. if I do this?”

His fingertips smoothly trail up your waist and arms, coming up to push the hair off your neck and he gives you a genuine smile before locking eyes with you. “Or this..?”

He leans down and places a soft kiss to your neck.

“Ra-“

“Y/n! Rafe! Come out here, we’re getting ready for dinner”

Your moan gets cut off my your fathers voice. You push Rafe off and glare at him as he looks you up and down before turning away and laughing.

“I hate you”

You walk out of the tent and go help prepare dinner.

The rest of the night goes as usual. You and Rafe have your bickering and the rest of the family gets a migraine from it. But something about this bickering is different, it’s almost like… flirting?

At the end of the night your too exhausted to stay up and listen to the adults blab on about business so you tell everyone good night and trail off to your tent.

Rafe was already there and you quietly unzip the tent but stop when you heart soft moans.

“Oh fuck” his voice is quiet but it’s audible for how close you are to the tent.

A smirk forms on your face as you decide to mess with Rafe yourself.

You sit there and listen to him touching himself when he says something that catches you off guard “oh y/n, shit right there”

Your eyes widen as you register what you just heard.

You unzip the tent and push inside, quickly closing it behind you and rushing to rafe.

“What the fuck Cameron!” You punch his arm as he scrambles to get dressed.

“Your disgusting” you go to turn around but are tugged back

“Come on. Don’t say you haven’t thought about it. All this love-hate game we got going is pretty fun, but let me have my own kinda fun now” he leans in to kiss you and for whatever reason you don’t move.

Rafes lips capture yours and it’s.. nice?

He softly groans against your mouth as you open wider and he sucks on your tongue.

“Fuck..” he breaths out as he pulls away.

“This doesn’t mean I don’t hate you”

You quickly tear off your cloths and watch Rafe do the same as you push him down and start straddling him.

“We have to be quiet”

You grasp his hard dick and stroke it a few times as he hisses at you. “Shit”

You smirk as you align it to your entrance and sink down “fuck, rafe”

You stay still for a moment as you try to adjust, but Rafe is impatient.

He sits up and grabs your ass before roughly slamming up into you.

You bite down on his shoulder as you try to keep quiet.

“Rafe” you whisper against his neck as he gets more viscous with his thrusts.

“Shit y/n, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck the best out of you”

You clench around his length as his confession

“Fuck! You like that don’t you. You little slut, like the idea of me disciplining you?” He gives your ass a little swat as you start rocking your hips.

“Shit, rafe” you grab your tits as you toy with the nipples and Rafe watches you with lustful eyes.

“I’m c-close!” You quietly moan as Rafe flips you over and slams into you repeatedly.

You clamp down onto his cock as he swells inside you.

“Fuck rafe, pull out!” You arch your back as your release nears.

“Shit shit shit” Rafe curses as he thrusts once, twice, and on the third time cums deep inside you.

He catches his breath before pulling out and his cum seeps out of you.

“What the fuck Cameron! I told you to pull out!” You whisper-yell as you push him off you and cover yourself with the blanket.

He runs his fingers through his hair and laughs as he lays down on the makeshift bed.

“You better get on birth control because I plan on doing that again”

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3

[vitentia]

MEDDLE ABOUT .lıllıl.

pairings ━━ street racer!ellie x fem!reader

warnings ━━ TOTALLY AND ENTIRELY inspired by the movie Culpa Mia bc I am obsessed, jealous!ellie, illegal street racing, questionably dangerous circumstances, fighting, use of a gun (not against anyone)

synopsis ━━ ellie williams, notoriously infamous street racer, wanted in many countries both by law enforcement and desire. desire for her car, her skills, her money, and especially what she could do with those hands beyond driving. luckily for you, her favorite grid girl was the only the only one she ever wanted.

playlist ━━ literally any chase atlantic song ever

Your friends excitedly pulled your arm, ooo-ing and awing at everything under the neon lights. A girl friend squealed into your shoulder as an attractive racer walked by and gave her a wink.

“Holy shit! You never told me you had such sex symbols walking your job like an all you can eat buffet.” You snorted at her and shook your head.

“All you can eat maybe but I actually have a job to do.”

“Oh, please, you mean to tell me nobody in here has tried to get with you? That you’ve never been tempted?”

You shrugged, “I never said that.”

Walking your friends over to the gathering crowd, you provided them front row seats to the open road arena and stepped away to lean your head into your favorite car.

“Williams.”

The short haired girl whistled lowly. “Aha, there’s my favorite girl. You gonna be shooting for me tonight?”

“Nah, Dina wanted to do it today.”

Ellie clicked her teeth. “Damn, I was hoping I’d see you in something sexy before I race this asshole.” She nodded her head in the direction of her opponent.

Cameron, upper middle class douchebag who thought he could win every race by being reckless and owning expensive cars. He winked at you from outside his car before sitting inside, no doubt trying to rile Ellie up.

You rolled your eyes and faced her again, “Ignore him. His fancy little cars are no match for this baby.”

“No match for my baby, you mean.” You made a confused face. “Hop in the passenger seat.”

“Woah hold on, you don’t let anyone in this car.” You responded, shock and surprise laced in your voice.

She smirked. “I’ve let you on top of it.”

Both anxious and excited, you bit your lip and looked at her blood red car. “Are you sure?”

“No time like the present, baby. Get in.”

You squealed and ran around the front of the car to get into the passenger seat, your friends shouting sexual jokes at you from afar. Once your bottom hit the plush leather seats you nearly moaned, flipping down the upward mirror, opening the dashboard, all of it was just so…exciting.

“You have been in a car before, right?” Ellie said sarcastically, watching your enjoyment.

“Yeah but never your car. It’s like a spaceship.” You gleamed, she smiled at you and shook her head, resting her arm out the window as Dina sauntered over between the two cars.

She read the basic rules and the promised dollar amount to the loser, roughly around 7k and spoke to each person in the car. When she came around you and Ellie, you leaned on the elbow rest and called out to her from the window.

“Your ass looks great in those jeans, D!” She turned around, hair whipping behind her and gave you a wink as Ellie scoffed.

“Why didn’t you tell me my ass looks good?” She asked, offended.

“It looks good, not as good as Dina’s though.” Your smirked.

Right then, she revved up the engine, hands sitting properly at the wheel and her plan already in motion. Dina stood between the two cars, raising the gun high in the air before finally breaking the tension and letting out a shot.

Before you could even blink, the car was already swiveling through the air. Your heart felt like it was in your throat as you grabbed onto the upper handle for support, but your mind was ecstatic over the adrenaline rush you got.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling and laughing until Ellie broke her concentration to admire you.

The moment fell short when Cameron’s sports car bumped roughly into Ellie’s from behind, sending you forward in your seat with your seatbelt forcing you back.

“What the fuck?” She cursed, bracing herself on the steering wheel before craning her eyes in your passenger side mirror to see.

Cameron pushed into the back of the car again, this time, his smirk visible for both of you to see.

Ellie tilted her head menacingly at him through the rear view mirror and revved up her engine, her knuckles turning white against the steering wheel as she prepared for a particularly sharp turn. You clasped the upper handle harder than before and prepared yourself for the increase in speed. Wind blew about the car dramatically and once the car finished its straight illegal turn, your butt planted on the seat and you finally allowed yourself to breath.

Ellie didn’t say a word nor look in your direction, her eyes pointedly eyeing the finish line with vigor. If you weren’t so attracted to her angry face, you’d be slightly worried.

Cameron expensive car rolled up on its side once Ellie made it past the finish line and it’s owner came out of it in anger. He slammed the door shut uncaringly and stomped over to you and Ellie like a child. You slipped next to Ellie but she lightly pushed you behind her and stood to her full height against the prissy boy.

“You fucking bitch!” He cursed

“Calling me names doesn’t help you, upper side. My money is owed.” She responded calmly, scarier than if she yelled back.

Jesse ran up in the middle and inserted himself between them. “Let it go, man. You lost fair and square.”

Cameron scoffed, unbelieving. “I ain’t giving you nothing. You or your little prostitute, Williams.”

Ellie swore her vision turned red as she revved up her arm for a mean right hook before abruptly being interrupted by Jesse holding her back.

“Not now, Els.” He whispered to her.

Cameron chuckled at her reaction and looked you up and down, sending a shiver up your spine. “Maybe I will pay for you, how much you charge a night-“

As soon as the boy started talking, Jesse mumbled something under his breath and promptly let go of the seething girl in his arms, raising them up to his sides and pressing his lips into a thin line. Without anymore resistance, Ellie swung her fist across Cameron’s jaw and a jaw dropping crack was heard from feet away. You gasped and slapped your hand over your mouth as she pushed him to the ground and pressed her black and white converse into his freshly cracked jaw.

“You’ll hear from my lawyers, you bitch.” He coughed out, barely eligible.

Ellie smirked and leaned down, hand against her knee. “I’ll be glad to tell them all you’ve been up to, Cameron Trevor Mallard Jr.” She roughly pulled her foot away and nodded towards Jesse. “Collect my money and bring it to me by tomorrow.”

No words were exchanged as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the passenger seat, opening the door and buckling you up herself before moving to her side and driving away from everyone. You looked back through the window, jaw agape.

“I’ll tell Jesse to make sure your friends get home safe, okay? I just- I just didn’t want to be alone.” She said, breaths shaking alongside her hands.

“Hey, come on, pull over. You can’t drive like this.” You said gently, putting your hand on her shoulder.

Listening to your words, Ellie pulled over to the side of a gravel road and took a deep breath. Your hand slipped under hers and examined the cuts on her knuckles, kissing them softly.

“You shouldn’t have-“

“No, I should have.” She finally looked at you. “Besides, I’ve been wanted to do put that kid in place for ages. You just gave me good reason.”

You smiled and averted your eyes from her intense gaze, but she leaned forward in her seat and brushed her nose against yours, forcing you to look at her.

“Thank you.” You whispered

She smirked, “Ah, you’re such a sap.” Ellie pressed her lips against yours, undecided on whether she wanted to swallow you whole or take it slow. With the moonlight bouncing off her tinted windows and the darkness of the night shielding you both from any prying eyes, she finally decided to do both.

[mxabankzz5]

American Dream-Chapter 2

summary: Y/n, a high level mutant and vital member of the Avengers is left bewildered when another Wade Wilson, from outside her timeline, pleads for her help in his mission to save his dying world. Even more shocked when the merc reveals their other crucial ally to be a man she thought to have left in her past.

warnings: 16+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her Avenger name is American Dream (Inspired by the comic hero), She/her pronouns, Swearing(lots), Angst, Heavy Violence, Deadpool (he's his own warning), Fluff, Possible Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

a/n: I changed a little bit of the plot. The Y/n in Wade’s world died by sacrificing herself for the soul stone instead of natasha..idk it just made more sense to me buuuut yea enjoy!

Masterlist

“Y’know what wilson, I’m in.”

“YES! Ah perfect! Ya know after I dug up that grave I really lost all hope… but you my friend, have restored that hope.” Wade spoke softly, holding his heart.

“You dug up his fucking grave!?”

“Language Captain! I mean…anyways speaking of Logan, where is he exactly?”

Y/n hesitated.

“I-I don’t know. I think he fled the country a while back but- look why can’t we just go get a Logan from another universe?”

“Goddamn it! Don’t you think i’ve tried? Unless you wanna try to go chat it up with a guy named Patch that turned my head into a fucking kabob, this universe is our best option.”

Y/n sighed before thinking.

“Fine, I might have an idea where he is.” She grabbed her shield out of the case on the wall before walking out of the office, Wade trailing behind.

“For an ‘idea’ this seems pretty spot on!”

Y/n rolled her eyes at Wade as they both walked into a bar. Their bright suits brought attention to them as people around them stopped and stared.

“So! Where’s our little honey badger at?” Wade clasped his hands together looking around.

“He should be here. He comes here once a week every Thursday.”

“Oh wow, really got his schedule down to a T huh? Stalker much..?” Wade whispered that last part to himself.

Once they made it past the tables and to the actual bar area that’s where they saw him.

He was leaned over his drink, silently muttering to himself. It was obvious he was drunk, but Wade didnt let that stop him.

“Oh there he is! And here I thought you were gonna take us all the way to Canada. don’t worry sweetpea, i’ve got this.”

He strode over to him confidently as Y/n walked slowly behind him.

You could tell Him and the bartender were going back and forth until Wade came over.

“I know you bub?”

“Nope, but I know you.”

Logan rolled his eyes and huffed. “Everybody knows me, I’m the Wolverine.”

“Yes you are. And I’m gonna need you to come with me right now.”

“Look lady I’m not interested.” Logan waved him off.

“Really getting into your cups here-”

“Why would I go with you.” He slurred, booping Wade on the nose.

“Be cause we need you and even more importantly my entire world needs you.”

“You two gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender chuckles.

Wade glared at him before turning back to Logan, confused.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yep…who’s we?”

“Huh? Oh! I’ve got someone here with me buddy, look familiar?” Wade asked as he stepped aside to reveal Y/n.

Logan’s breath caught in his chest.

“Y/n….shit.” He cursed as he stood, taking a step towards her. She pushed off the wall that she was leaning on and smiled sarcastically.

“Hi there Logan.”

Wade stood between them. The tension was so thick he could cut it with a butter knife. “Well..every other Wolverine would’ve really hurt me by now and we’re kinda on the clock here sooo time to go!” He tried grabbing Logan to drag him out of the bar but got pushed.

Logan stumbled back, balling his hands into fist trying to unsheathe his claws, which only came out about an inch.

“Whiskey dick of the claws, it’s quite common in Wolverines over forty.”

“You don’t want this.”

“You’re right, we don’t.” Y/n spoke, coming from behind Wade to draw a gun to Logan head. “But unless you wanna breathe through your fucking forehead I suggest you reconsider.”

Logan glared at her.

“I don’t wanna have to beat the shit out of you again Logan. Let’s go.” She stated, returning the glare.

It was silent for a moment before Logan began smiling, that smile turned into a chuckle, then a whole-hearted laugh as he leaned forward into the barrel of the gun.

“H-Hold on, hold on, hold on. Watch this.” He laughed, grabbing the bottle of alcohol and drinking until he passed out.

“Good god..thirsty little honey badger.” Wade and Y/n watched as he collapsed.

“Guess you’ll have to do.” Wade sighed to himself about to grab him by the collar when he noticed what was under his shirt.

“Ooh! Look at those jammies. That only took twenty fucking years! Cmon Y/n gimmie a hand.” Wade gasped before waving her over.

She lifted the Wolverine up onto her shoulders while Wade began fumbling with that weird remote again, causing another orange door to appear.

“Alright team let’s move out!” he exclaimed.

“Two anchor beings coming right up! On your left babygirl.”

Wade and Y/n walked through into what looked like a large futuristic office. There was a man ahead of them dressed in a suit with a bandage on his nose. He looked bewildered.

“And bonus. They’re actually wearing costumes like they’re not embarrassed to be in a superhero movie.”

“Uhh I don’t understand?” The man stepped forward, looking down at the Wolverine that Y/n threw to the floor with a thud.

“You said my world is dying because these sacks of nuts got themselves killed- no offense sweetpea! Problem solved.” Wade turned to Y/n while she just shrugged.

The man who Y/n realized was Paradox suddenly started laughing. “You really think you can replace anchor beings with them? I honestly don’t mind her but I wouldn’t have accepted any other wolverine be te dubs.”

Wade tilted his head in confusion.

“But you have outdone yourself! You may have brought me the best possible variant of American Dream but you also brought me the worst Wolverine!”

Y/n stepped up. “What do you mean worst?”

“This Wolverine let down his entire world. Y/n here should be able to tell you a bit about it. But what he did..well some things are just beyond forgiveness.”

Wade froze.

“Uh okay well…how- how do I make this right? I’ll do anything.”

“I gave you a chance a greatness because my superiors deemed you “special” well- apparently not special in a good way but you serve some kind of important future purpose..”

“With Thor he holds me.”

Y/n frowned in confusion.

“But! I did my duty, I gave you the opportunity to be somebody and instead of accepting my offer you broke my nose.”

“Ugh it looks great!”

“And decimated dozens of my men with the corpse of a hero.”

“ Wade, you fought them with his corpse!?” Y/n gasped.

“Not a good time sugarbear!”

A smaller man walked past us to Paradox, handing him something on a tray. “Your world is dying! And you can’t stop it.” He took a bite of a sandwich.

“Is the vaporizing of my universe making you peckish?”

“I’m eating my feelings.”

Y/n notices Logan stirring awake behind them.

“I’m about to lose my world because that hairy thundercunt from undercunt finally dies and- he’s right behind me isn’t he?”

Y/n looks back again to see Logan standing at his full height with a not so pleased look on his face.

“Welcome to the MCU, you’re joining at a pretty low point right now.” Wade whispered before turning back to Paradox.

“I wanna talk to your boss! I want you to get him or her on the phone and let them know that Marvel H. Christ isn’t playing!”

The room fell silent, including Paradox as he looked around sheepishly at the mention of a boss.

“Holy shit, Y/n did you hear that?”

“What?”

“I just heard a symphony of buttholes clenching all at once, you’re off-grid. Your bosses don’t know what you sick fucks are doing down here. Well I’ll tell you what, I have a black belt in Karen, and I’m gonna go upstairs and I’m gonna to tell them all about you an-”

Suddenly sparks and flames began flying out Wade before he slowly disappeared to reveal Paradox standing there with a glowing stick in his hand.

Logan and Y/n stepped back, glaring at him.

“Oh silence is nice isn’t it?”

“Where the fuck did he go?” They both questioned.

“To the trash heap, you two will fit right in.”

Logan and Y/n glanced at each other before lunging towards Paradox. Causing him to zap them both at once.

In the Void

Y/n glared at the sun that shone above her. Her back ached from what felt like a 50,000 foot fall. She groaned as she got up, her broken leg healing as soon as she stood.

“What the fuck..”

She looked around her to see nothing but a desert wasteland. A very drastic change from the heavily air conditioned office they were just in moments ago.

Once she realized she was fully healed she took a few steps before suddenly hearing someone yell.

“Let’s see if you can grow your fucking head back!” She turned to see Logan turning Wade into a kabob the distance.

Y/n decided that she should probably interfere.

“AH wait wait wait! I can fix it!”

“Fix what?”

“Whatever it is you did, whatever you did to make you so bad. Those- those pricks in the TVA you heard them. They have the power to end my universe but they also have the power to change yours!” Wade pulled out his claws that were in his chest.

“I don’t fucking believe you!” Logan was about to swing and slice Wade throat clean off until a hand stopped him.

“Logan wait!” She shouted, pushing him away before turning to Wade who was still kneeling.

“You said that they can fix things we did in our world?”

“Yes! After my timeline is fine i’ll get them to send you home and fix anything that you two have done in your world! I promise!” He said franticly, his hands up in surrender.

Y/n and Logan shared a look, almost as if they communicated something without speaking.

This didn’t go past Wade.

“You Guys, what is this that i’m sensing here? Forbidden romance? Unrequited love? Possibly a failed love triangle…or square?”

This made Logan snap, letting his claws slide out with snikt. “Shut the fuck up!”

Suddenly a voice sounded out in the distance. “Hey! We fight eachother we lose!” Everyone turned their heads to see a hooded figure standing on a tower.

“Oh God it’s him..”

“Who?” Logan and Y/n questioned.

“The One. The superhero equivalent to comfort food or Molly. The white guy’s answer to all disappointments-much like Y/n here- and another A-lister.”

Suddenly a bunch of beat down trucks began driving towards us and the man jumped down, making Wade squeal in excitement. “Now that’s a superhero landing!”

He stood infront of us as the trucks and vehicles circled around, dust flying everywhere.

He slowly removed his hood, turning towards the chaos.

“I’ve got this.”

This made Wade go absolutely berserk. To be honest he did look awfully familiar but Y/n didn’t understand all the commotion Wade was making over this man.

Sudden Logan’s nose began to twitch as he looked around.

“They’ve got Pyro.” he whispered to Y/n.

“Pyro? I thought Magneto kidnapped him.”

Logan made a noise that said he didn’t know. while Wade went over to hug the mysterious man infront of them.

Suddenly the vehicles stopped, surrounding them fully.

The man on the biggest vehicle, who Y/n finally recognized as Pyro, stepped forward and took off his goggles.

“Cassandra is gonna be giddy once she sees what we caught. You can’t run, everybody knows that.”

“You see anyone running dick for brains?”

Wade was shocked at the man’s language for some reason, seriously who is this guy? “You’re not gonna like what happens next.”

Wade gasped. “Oh my god..oh my god! Oh my god! He’s gonna do it!” Wade exclaimed, flicking the sword in Logan’s chest making him curse.

“Oh my god he’s gonna say it!”

“Say what?” Y/n asked.

“Avengers! As-”

“FLAME ON!”

The man that Y/n just realized looked a lot like her friend Steve, shot up into the air, flames engulfing his body as he stared down at Pyro.

This definitely won’t go well, she thought.

And as she expected, Pyro absorbed the man’s power, sending him down into a the tower he stood on moments before and finally on the ground.

“We don’t know him.” Logan said quickly.

“We thought we did.” Wade added.

Y/n’s POV

After Logan fought and defeated the Sabertooth effortlessly, Pyro turned on a huge magnet, taking advantage of Logan’s metal skeleton and my large vibranium shield on my back. I fell unconscious once a huge scrap of metal slammed into my face.

When I woke up I found myself tied to Logan who was looking down at me amused.

I looked around seeing Wade and the other man tied together as well, hanging beside us.

“How long was I asleep?”

“I bet not all of her was asleep.” Wade chuckled making me roll my eyes before squirming around in the restraints.

“Don’t bother, they’re very thorough.” The man spoke.

Logan glared his way. “If you know where we are start talking.”

“You’re in the Void. Think of it a purgatory. Reed called it a metaphysical junkyard where anything useless goes before it gets annihilated forever. And where the TVA send people that don’t play nice with the rest of the universe.” He explained, nodding towards Wade.

“Who does the annihilating?” I asked.

“Alioth.”

“Alioth is in this thing? From Loki season one episode five?” Wade exclaimed. Logan and I looked at each other in exasperation before turning back to the other man.

“Everyone’s on the run from Alioth, most don’t make it. There’s a resistance though. Other people like us who managed to survive. They’re hiding out in the borderlands trying to find a way the fuck outta here.”

“Then that’s were we go.”

“We? Us? A team? The answer is yes, shake on it.” Wade said hopefully, trying to swing over to us to grab Logan’s hand.

As soon as Wade did, Logan let out his claws, accidentally cutting my thigh.

“Goddamit Logan! Watch out!”

“Shit.. sorry sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname.

“Sweetheart? Ooh I knew I wasn’t wrong about you two! I smell something starting to bloom here!”

Logan ignored him. “These others can help us get back to the TVA and make them fix things.”

Suddenly the man-who I learned was named Johnny after Wade started whispering something to him-started laughing.

“Something funny bub?”

“She might have something to say about that.”

“Who’s she?”

“In the void you’re either food for Alioth or you work for her.”

The vehicles came to a harsh stop when we arrived inside of what looked like the rotting corpse of…Scott Lang?

They all but threw us to the ground infront of an opening skull. A shadowed figure appeared there.

Suddenly a large man who I recognized as Juggernaut lifted us up to stand, lifting Wade and Johnny beside us as well.

Then the figure started to emerge, we were able to now see that they were in a wheelchair.

“Is that Charles?” I asked, recognizing the familiar bald head.

Wade perked up at my question.

“Hey- hey Chuck it’s us!”

When the person came into the light Logan shook his head. “That’s not Chuck.”

The woman stood from out of the wheelchair, the ramp below her turning into steps and she made her way down.

“Oh ableism, great. That’s not gonna go over well with the woke mob.”

“A Wolverine. I wondered when I’d get one of you. You’re one of Xavier’s.”

“You knew Charles?” I asked.

“Oh, I knew him. We shared a womb. Tried to strangle the sly little fellow with my umbilical cord.”

“Amen! I’ve never loved roommates, mines blind. Except she can see cocaine. For some… reason-You wanna chime in your majesties?! I’m dying here!” Wade snapped when he saw Logan and I’s disapproving looks.

“Who are you?” Logan finally asked.

“Cassandra Nova, Charles Xavier’s twin.”

“Bullshit.”

“How was anal birth?”

She chuckled. “You all are cute. I have a good feeling about this.” She snapped her fingers and our restraints suddenly dropped. Logan and I stepping out of ours while Wade stepped out of his before Johnny was tied back up again.

“And I’ve been trying to catch this little firefly for years. You picked the wrong time to make new friends.”

Then she turned to me eyes widening.

“It took me a moment but a just realized. An American Dream! My my you are far more gorgeous than they say. It really does feel like Christmas.” She exclaimed, taking a step towards me. Logan took a step infront of me protectively, glaring at her uneasily.

She noticed this and simply chuckled before turning back to Johnny.

“Anyways, back to you. So this is what you’ve been doing since you escaped? Trying to find some new buddies to join your little gang?”

Suddenly Wade spoke up.

“Ohhh Johnny told us all about you.”

“Maybe shut up now.”

“Yeah maybe don’t.”

Logan and I tried stopping him before Cassandra waved us off.

“Oh no we’re just talking here. Johnny told us you’re a psychotic, megalomaniacal asshole. His words, not mine. Hell-bent on domination and pain.”

Cassandra's eyes narrow. "You said all that about me?"

Johnny stammers, panic clear in his voice.

"No, no! How do you- I didn't say anything!"

"Sticks and stones, Johnny!" Deadpool laughs, his tone mocking. "Don't let her intimidate you. Like you said in the convoy. This finger-licking, dead inside, pixie slab of third-rate dime store nut milk can eat your delicious cinnamon ring and kick rocks all the way to bald-hell."

Johnny looks terrified. "I have never said any of those words in my entire life!"

“Wade that’s enough!” I warn firmly, but he doesn’t listen.

"Ah! The modesty! People think I'm a shit-talker, but this guy, next level."

"What? This- I- wait- I don't even know what half of that means!" Johnny protests.

Suddenly with a flick of her wrist, Johnny is skinned alive.

Wade gasps in fake horror. “Not my favorite Chris.”

“You stupid piece of shit! You just got him fucking killed!” Logan shouted.

“What the fuck is wrong with you wilson!”

“Hey we’re all grieving! PS, do you know what he was doing to the budget?” He whispered off into the distance.

“Alioth is hungry.” She interrupts.

"There's been some kind of mistake,"

Wade protests, his bravado faltering. "Big Yellow and Miss America here are backup Anchor Beings, and I'm Marvel Jesus, MJ if you're nasty. This may be hard to hear, but there's another British villain. He's gonna destroy my universe, and I'm gonna stop him."

Cassandra smiles menacingly. “Oh honey you don’t really strike me as the world saving type.”

Wade’s posture stutters.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

He sighed. “I didn’t want it to come to this. Either you help us or my friends here will reenact every single love scene in Fifty Shades of Grey with no intimacy coordinator! Just raw, passionate, and lots of uncomfortable eye contact. Go on guys, show em how it’s done!” He pushed me into Logan suddenly, making me huff in annoyance.

“Where’d you get the chair?” Logan tried changing the subject.

“Well, once in a while I do get a Charles through here. Nevermind though. No, he didn’t care to find me.”

“Ughh Gen Z and they’re trauma bragging! Can’t you just stuff it down turn it to accomplishment or cancer like the rest of us.”Wade groaned.

“But I’m not like the rest of you. Except maybe the Wolverine..we could be truly terrifying together.”

“Nice try, but he’s already taken.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows under his mask, elbowing me.

“You’re that scary huh?”

“The TVA certainly thought so, they sent me here before I could walk. And you know, it’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I love it here.”

“You live in a garbage dump.” I stated.

“I think we both know who lives in the garbage dump. The Void is a paradise, I can wield my powers here without shame. Of course I didn’t have a Charles Xavier here to teach me temperance…What about your charles?”

She asked, stepping closer to Logan.

“Did he protect you? Did he make you feel safe?”

I could sense his temper growing thin at the constant mention of Charles.

“Were mutants were never safe.” He suddenly charged at her, about to stab her in the chest before she pushed him back, burying him deep in the ground behind her.

“What the fuck!?”I shouted.

I grabbed a gun at my hip and fired multiple times but she stopped the bullets mid air sending them flying back towards me and through my chest. One flew through my head, knocking me unconscious.

[bella-goths-wife]

Jealousy at play

James x lost boys daughter, romantic Dimitri x lost boys daughter, father lost boys x daughter reader

Content: a vampiric patron of Dimitri’s bar gets too close to his newest bartender

Warnings: mentions of blood, obsessive behaviour, jealousy, threats of violence

“I still don’t understand why you had to walk me there” you comment with a roll of your eyes as you and Dimitri make your way to his bar, with him lingering slightly behind you to make sure to protect you from any threats from behind

“Because, little bird” Dimitri responds with a playful huff of air “I promised your grandfather that I’d make sure you’d be safe, and a pretty young girl walking alone in the dark on her way to work is definitely not safe”

“I’m not completely helpless y’know” you quip back with a sigh

“I don’t doubt it birdy” he replied with a chuckle “but your sarcastic comments won’t last very long against a supernatural being”

You don’t respond and just glare at his teasing smirk as your arms wrap around yourself to block out the crisp air that you were unfamiliar with after spending your entire life in the humid caves of Santa Carla.

“Cold?” Dimitri asked with an eyebrow piqued in interest

“No” you lie but the wind hits you in that moment and you let out a small shiver

“So you must be shivering from my pure charm then” Dimitri comments with a teasing tone

“I’m just not used to the cold” you say defensively “I’ll get used to it”

“Not before freezing to death you won’t” Dimitri comments with a teasing smile

Before you can make some kind of insulting quip back at him, you feel engulfed by warmth as he puts his suit jacket over your shoulders and lets it cover you

“You can’t-“ your about to protest but Dimitri cuts you off

“What?” He says with a shrug “I’m undead, what’s the cold gonna do to me?”

You just roll your eyes and continue to walk, but you can’t help the small smile that finds your lips.

You absent mindedly play with the necklace around your neck to calm your nervous energy, inadvertently pulling your shirt away from your collar bone slightly and showing a small tattoo off to Dimitri. It was a small bat that laid at the bottom of your collar bone.

“When did you get that done?” Dimitri asks and when you look at him with a confused face, he uses his eyes to motion to your tattoo

“Oh” you say as you subconsciously bring your fingertips to the tattoo and a memory of James holding your hand while you were tattooed forced it’s way into your mind “I got it done when I was fifteen, my ex boyfriends friends owned a tattoo shop and I’d always wanted to get one”

“Bet your dads loved that” Dimitri comments with a small smirk at the thought “what did they do when they found out?”

“Nothing” you answer with a small chuckle “my boyfriend taught me how to care for it and gave me tips on how to keep it hidden, so they never found out”

“And what happened to this boyfriend?” Dimitri asks with a teasing tone before the realisation hits him and his expression morphes into concern that he’s offended you “shit, he’s not dead is he?”

“No he’s not dead” you say in a reassuring tone before letting out a deep sigh and thinking on your next words “we just didn’t work out I guess”

“Did he break your heart?” Dimitri asks intrusively but you don’t seem to care as you nod “did he hurt you?”

“Not physically, he’d never do that” you say with a soft shake of your head “he just tried to keep me in a bad situation and I couldn’t stay just for him, same thing happened with my ex girlfriend, they both just tried to stop me from going into the real work and wanted to keep me in Santa Carla forever”

“Ex boyfriend and ex girlfriend” Dimitri says as he lets out a small whistle, trying to ease the mood as he ruffles your hair playfully “you little player”

“Shut up” you say as your roll your eyes and laugh before beginning to fix your now messed up hair

Dimitri took a moment to just admire you and how you practically glowed under the streetlights of the city and how your laugh sounded like a symphony of angels. You practically looked ethereal under the light of the moon when you smiled.

“We’re here” you point out to a distracted Dimitri as you reach the door of his bar and you wait for him to use his keys to open it up

Dimitri admires you for a few more moments in silence before using his keys to open the door.

“Want me to teach you how to make a Bloody Mary with actual blood?” He asks with a smirk and you just smile and nod in return

———————————————————————

You cringed as you poured the thick substance of blood into a glass for a patron while Dimitri watched on from his seat at the bar with an admiring smile.

You had been working at the bar for a few weeks now and in all honesty, Dimitri had no complaints. You were capable of doing the job with minimal fuss and the smell of your blood attracted vampires from all over the place to come in and have a drink, the fact he got to spend time with you was also a bonus.

But then something made Dimitri frown and his eyes narrow. He watched as a clearly newly turned vampire said something with a suggestive smile and then he only felt his annoyance deepen when he noticed that the comment had made you laugh.

He watched as the vampires eyes looked at you with lust clouded over them, from either your enchanting body or your enchanting blood.

Dimitri called you over once he noticed the vampire beginning to speak again, and you walked over to the other end of the bar to where he had positioned himself.

“You’re running low on type B” Dimitri comments as he gets up and goes behind the bar “why don’t you go get some more from the back and I’ll keep serving our customer?”

You nod as you make your way behind the bar and into the back to where you could reach the cellar. As you do this this, Dimitri turns to the vampiric customer and notices his eyes raking over your figure as you walk away.

“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Dimitri comments with what looks like a friendly smirk as he grabs a bottle and refills the man’s drink

“I’ll say” the man says with a crude smile “where did you get one like that?”

“I like to pick up strays, especially pretty ones” Dimitri answers with a smirk “and the smell of her blood, well it’s nothing short of delicious”

“That’s one word for it” the man responds with a laugh “been thinking about talking a bite out of her since I got here”

“That so?” Dimitri asks with a forced smile

“Yeah man, I’d do anything to take a bite out of her” the man says with a crude expression “either her neck or her ass”

“Well, there’s something you’ve got to remember” Dimitri says with a forced laugh

“What’s that?” The man asks curiously

“She’s claimed” Dimitri states as his smile drops and his expression darkens with a protective feeling clouding his chest “so I suggest you pay your tab and leave, unless of course you want me to jump over this bar and rip your throat out with my bare fangs”

The man gulps before nodding and slapping some money on the bar, he then picks his stuff up before taking off practically running out the door.

You returned seconds later as you refilled the empty bottles and looked around.

“Where’d he go?” You ask confused as you look at the empty seat

“Who knows” Dimitri says with a shrug before smirking “maybe he got intimidated by my good lucks and decided to leave”

You roll your eyes but you can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. Dimitri notices and is reminded of maxs warnings to not become romantic with you and considers them for a brief moment before smirking and watching you laugh at his jokes

Too late max, too late

———————————————————————

Meanwhile with your fathers……

“No way” Paul exclaims at David’s suggestion as he rises from his seat in his position in the circular meeting “we are not turning our daughters ex fling into one of us”

“I wasn’t a fling” James responds with a a defensive tone

“You might as well have been” faith comments passive aggressively before sitting closer to marko when James eyes glare at her

“Why are you still here again?” James asks aggressively

“Enough” David commands with a tired tone “we wouldn’t be turning him for us, we’d be turning him to find our daughter”

“And how would he do that David?” Dwayne asks with a roll of his eyes “we’ve been looking for months, how is tasking a teenager with the same thing we’ve been doing over and over again going to change anything?”

“Because I know her” James exclaims defensively “I’ll be able to find her, and it’ll be a whole lot easier if I have the abilities that come with being a vampire”

“I know her too, I could find her if I was given the chance” faith interjects and marko gives her a nod before James spins round to face her with a sneer

“But you won’t turn, will you?” James asks with a mocking tone “it goes against your little religion”

“Shut up James” faith hisses back with a glare

“It’s because your a coward-“ James hisses back but is interrupted

“Enough you two, always arguing like children” Dwayne yells with an annoyed expression

“It’s decided” David says firmly “I’m turning him and he will get us our daughter back”

“But you can’t-“ Paul goes to protest but marko interrupts

“I think it’s a good idea” he states calmly “I don’t like the kid but he’d make a pretty decent tracker as a vampire, and it’s not like we have any more options”

Dwayne goes to protest but just sighs before nodding, admitting to the truth in his statement.

“I’ll turn you tomorrow night” David says firmly to James “it’s not an easy process, so prepare yourself”

David goes to get up but faith stops him

“Wait” she exclaims desperately “I want to be turned too”

“What for?” David questions with a raised brow

“To get her back” faith states firmly “I can’t live without her, I promise to be useful I just want to help her”

“Doesn’t that go against your precious god?” James asks mockingly and faith sends him a glare

“She’s worth more than god, I’d do anything for her” faith states firmly before her expression turns desperate and she turns to David “please David, please turn me too”

David eyes faith for a few moments before sighing

“I’ll do it” he states with an annoyed glare “but only because you tried to make her stay, you’d be dead if it wasn’t for the fact that you helped us”

Faith nods and David storms out of the room with a face like thunder after having to deal with all these childish antics.

The only thing that brings him comfort is the fact that he’s one step closer to getting you back.

He’ll get his precious daughter back to him soon, undead or alive

[1-800-imagines]

drunk texts part 3 | r.c.

series masterlist here!

cw: violence, mentions of past abuse

to say you were worried about what was about to happen would be a huge understatement. with rafe gone, your anxiety grew by the minute, your heart hammering.

since your white shirt had been ruined by fucking jungle juice of all things, you had put rafe’s shirt on and then put yours on the ground.

his shirt was huge on you and covered your shorts. but as you were lost in your own thoughts you hadn't noticed someone approaching.

but then you heard his voice. and not the voice you wanted to hear. it was blake's. your head snapped towards him.

he looked at you and registered what you were wearing. with a sarcastic laugh tinged with a deep bitterness in it, he snapped, “oh so NOW you think you can whore it up with rafe?”

your breathe caught, despite hating him, you still felt the need to justify all your actions and tell him that it wasn’t like that, “no, it’s not. my shirt.” you were stumbling on your words and pointing to your stained tank top on the ground which looked even more incriminating at this point. 

he stalked closer to you, “you think i’m gonna believe a slut like you?” his hand moved to your jaw and squeezed it. tears welled in your eyes. memories of him holding you in that position during fights surged your memory.

but little did you know, rafe wasn’t far behind blake and he was hot on his trail. rafe had gone looking for him but saw blake leave the crowd as he had already spotted you.

“hey asshole, take your fucking hands off her.” rafe shouted, grabbing blake’s shoulder to turn him around. 

before you could comprehend what was happening, as soon as blake turned to face rafe, rafe punched blake in the square in the face, causing a loud crack. 

you stood entirely still, scared to move. rafe grabbed blake by the collar of his shirt, “leave her alone, from now on.” he shoved blake away from him, blake's nose bleeding heavily.

"you could've broken my fucking nose bro!" blake shouted.

"yeah and that'll be the least of your fucking problems if you lay another hand on her. you get me, bro?" rafe's voice was laced with venom.

blake threw his hands up and backed away, "whatever you say man, not like i wanted that crazy bitch anyway."

those words punched you in the gut and you let out the smallest gasp, rafe clenched his fist and was about to hit him again but you caught his arm. "not worth it, please." you whispered softly.

as soon as he realized it was you touching him, his body relaxed slightly. blake took the opportunity to high tail it out of there. rafe turned to you and frowned. “you okay?” he whispered, touching your cheek that was still slightly red from blake’s grasp. 

you nodded and looked at his hand that you were holding, “you’re bleedin, rafe.” you took his hand in yours and grabbed your shirt off the ground, wrapping it around the fist that had protected you. “thank you,” you whispered, "you didn't have to do that for me". 

“don’t thank me sweetheart. you don’t deserve that shit. blake never deserved you in the first place. no one will ever be good enough.” his non-injured hand moved a piece of hair behind your ear, “don’t forget what you’re worth.”

you were shaking from the encounter. rafe noticed immediately. “do you wanna get out of here?” he asked softly.

you nodded too eagerly so he said, “go tell your ride you’re leaving so your friends don’t worry about you. i know sarah will be worried. i’ll be right here.” you hesitated, looking back towards the crowd where blake was. rafe, sensing your hesitation added, “i’ll wait right here for you. keep my eyes on you the whole time.” with that reassurance from him, you wandered into the crowd to find pope.

your eyes met blake’s and he scowled at you, then making it very obvious that he was enjoying what was now happening to him. there was a random girl grinding on him, dancing.

pope wasn’t far and when you walked up to him, he immediately asked you, “are you okay?”

“yeah, some shit happened with blake. i’m gonna leave.” you said softly.

“let me drive you.” pope insisted.

you shook your head, “no it’s okay. i got a ride. let the others know so they don’t worry? i’ll see you back at the chateau tomorrow.”

pope sighed, “of course. be careful.”

you smiled back at pope and made your way back to rafe. “everything good?” he asked.

“yeah, i told pope to relay the message. let’s go please.” your voice was barely above a whisper.

he slipped his non-injured hand into yours and led you to where he had parked his truck.

[imbeingchokeholded]

Getting Clean

I need to be put into jail, stupid Scottish bitch.

Anyway this is probably lowkey just gonna be smut completely lmao.

I promise the soap pun titles will end.

Also so sorry this took so long because my mind is an enigma and writing for either the COD fandom or the RDR2 fandom has been deleted out of my mind.

Lets go lmao

WARNINGS!: female reader because im a woman and soap makes me yell real loud (nothing against him being shipped with male readers or 141, good for him what a king), NSFW, fuckin, im so bad at warnings just know its gonna be fuckin happenin, choking?? Voice kink???? Breeding kink for SURE. Just major NSFW basically porn with negative plot. Like... .5 plot.

Scottish slang/words may be inccorect due to using google, so please lemme know if its wrong, I'll happily fix it.

I am so sorry for spelling mistakes i finished this at like 2am

The mess hall seemed way too empty, everyone was out on missions, covert, recon, whatever, and while there was a shit ton of others there on base, without most of the 141 team it just felt....wrong.

You sigh and look at your food. It's not that it's bad food. In fact, it looks delicious, but sitting alone, at this massive table that usually you shared with Ghost, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro, as well as Soap, just made you feel...down.

They were easily the people you were closest too on base. Working so closely with them it was only a matter of time before it happened. All of you were close friends, it was rare for any of you to stray from the group and talk to anyone else.

So today, sitting in the mess hall, was no different.

You stare at the food a little longer, and poke it around with your fork, that strange foreign feeling in your chest.

"Aye Lass, lookin' at it like tha' cannaé change how it tastes."

You smile and twist your head to look at Soap as he nears the table, a tray of food of his own in his hands.

"Johnny! I didn't know you were here!" You smile wider as he takes a seat next to you, and chuckle as he takes a bite of food from his tray.

"Ah, I jus' got back from a mission not too long ago, Price is givin' me a wei break."

You nod and smile at him, your heart seems a little lighter now, someone who you're far closer to now with you.

Plus it was Johnny, how could you not be happy around him? He was the obnoxious fun loving one of the group, he could be serious yes, but it was rare. Most days he joked, laughed, spat out witty sarcastic comments at everyone who passed.

You supposed that was part of the reason you'd grown to have such deep feelings for him in the first place.

Of course you'd never tell him that, you were far too nervous to do that.

Handsome, sweet, a deep voice, which had a Scottish accent on top of it? You could listen to him speak about nonsense for the entire day.

Sometimes missions with him were absolute hell.

He did his job, he was a good Sargent, he knew what he was doing, trained properly, getting things done the way they needed to, but his commentary....

That damn voice of his, he didn't even need to be next to you, all he needed was that voice and his stupid little sarcastic quips.

Hell, sometimes it wasn't even in comms.

He'd yell out something simple, that shouldn't have been attractive, yet it was.

Something as simple as "Changing mags!" Could make your face heat up and turn a violent red, hell, he basically growled at the end of the sentence whenever he said it. Being near him was almost like having a bomb strapped to your chest. Threatening to go off at any second.

Everytime he said "Steamin' Jesus" you couldn't help but imagine him using it in a far more intimate senario, with a slight change of tone, and that never failed to send a flood of warmth between your legs.

You swore that he knew what he was doing too, like he could sense the tension between the two of you, or see the red on your face, but if he did he never brought it up, and for that you were thankful.

Trying to explain fraternization to Price would not be a fun experience. Not only that but bringing it up would probably make you flustered beyond speaking ablity.

"Hey, Y/N. I been talkin' yer fuckin' ear off, you still listenin'?"

You shake your head and look at him, your face feels hot and you're sure you're crimson.

"Ye alright Lass?"

That stupid nickname makes the blush worsen and you simply clear your throat.

"I'm fine Soap. Thinking."

"You can call me Johnny off duty." He laughs. "You usually do....ya nervous about something? Just a wei bit?"

His voice carries a bit of teasing tone and you can't help but feel a bit if irritation at the smug bastard.

"Not nervous, no."

"Ah, not nervous, yet red in the face....Aye...I got yer number bonnie."

He snorts and then continues to eat.

"Really?" You cross your arms and look at him. "Do you now MacTavish?"

"Pretty obvious if you ask me." He shrugs.

"Okay, so tell me then."

Your face burns at the sudden burst of confidence, and as a smirk crosses over Johnny's face you suddenly feel very foolish about what you've just said.

"Lass...tha's not very appropriate for me to say here, where anyone could hear....now is it?"

That smirk stays on his face as he lowers his voice to a low whisper as he gets the last few words out.

You swallow, and your face burns deeper.

"I don't know what you mean Johnny."

"I'm sure." He offers you a laugh and then stands, the look in his eyes makes your body shiver. "I think I'll head to my room...feel free to...visit, if you'd like."

You watch as he walks off as though nothing had happened and your entire body seems to shiver.

He sticks his hands in his jean pockets as he walks away, which you obviously noticed, because of course you did, with an ass like his.

What the hell are you gonna do? Follow him? How the hell did he figure you out so quickly? Did he mean what he said?

Little did you know Johnny was thinking similarly.

"What the hell were you thinkin'? Saying somethin' like that? Y/N does NOT feel that way about you, you probably just fucked somethin' up, fuckin' idiot."

It takes you only a matter of minutes before you stand from the table and head after Johnny, towards his room in the base.

Your heart is thumping so loudly its the only thing you can hear.

Your body seems to be reacting on its own though, your thoughts, while dirty and definetly in need of some....cleaning....ironically, are wondering what'll happen to your friendship afterwards, but your body doesn't seem to care.

Your mind races with the thought of what would happen if you were caught too, it wasn't exactly professional to fuck your coworker in the military.

When you reach his door you breathe deeply, hesitant as you raise your hand to the door. You stopped for a moment and then, you knock on the door.

Johnny opens the door nearly instantly, only a matter of seconds pass before the door knob clicks and he stands in the doorway before you, leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at you.

"Tha' was quick Lass."

"Shut up, let me in."

"Aw...c'mon now...be nice..." He lowers his voice, whispering the last two words, a smug smirk coming over his mouth.

You feel a rush of heat through your chest and look to your feet, your entire face seems to burn, your ears even feel as though they're burning.

"Please Johnny?"

You feel his hand come under your chin and he lifts your head to look him in the eye, not gently but not rough either.

"Try again Lass, look me in the eye."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Please let me in, you stupid Scottish fuck."

"Tha's not very nice...thought I said be nice..."

You clench your jaw and stare at him, that smug grin on his face somehow managing to irritate you and make you horny all at the same time.

"Please Johnny? Let me in?"

"Ye really do want me, don't ye? Dinnaé know you felt so strongly towards me.." He smirks at you and the moves aside, dropping his hand from your chin to let you in.

You look around his room, staring at all the posters and things he has lined up on the walls. Considering this was Johnny's room....you expected it to be far dirtier, less organized, yet as you looked around at the rest of his room you noticed everything had a place, everything was neat, he didn't even have dirty clothes on the floor.

Neat and organized....despite his very chaotic and uncooridinated nature.

You're busy looking this over, viewing his room when he comes up behind you.

He leans in close.

"So, you were havin' thoughts then?" He smirks, you can feel it without even looking at him. "You? Havin' thoughts...innocent little Y/N always focused on the job Y/N....havin' thoughts like those....and about me..."

His voice lowers, it's nearly a growl, and a hand wraps around your waist, his fingers slide gently under the bottom of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach, only just barely.

"Naughty...naughty..."

You look down, your face is completely red, scarlet, and it burns hotter than you thought possible.

By looking down you didn't really account for the fact that, that would only leave your neck open, and it takes all your will power you have not to make a sound when you feel Johnny's lips agains the skin there.

"I'm suprised it took you this long to notice Johnny." You breathe out, hoping your voice wouldn't give out on you.

He stops, his lips still gently placed against your skin as he speaks.

"Really now....been very noticable has it Hen?"

The nickname sends a shiver though your spine, though you know the word itself isn't the issue.

"I think so..." You breathe. "Can't you tell when my voice changes over comms sometimes?"

"Ye get that flustered...over comms? Ye don't even see me.."

He chuckles and presses another kiss to your neck, you're sure the next one he offers will be brusing.

"Not my fault..." You mumble. You've almost collapsed against him, leaning your body weight onto him, though he doesn't mind in the slightest.

"Really now...now...can ye explain to me what it is on comms that makes things so hard to focus then Hen?"

"Why must you make things difficult?"

"Difficult?"

He laughs at you and then stands up straight, his hand leaving the skin of your stomach.

He moves to his bed and takes a seat, nearly plopping down, he sits with his legs open and slaps both hands on his thighs, leaning forwards.

"It isn't difficult, it's a really easy question now Lass."

You cross your arms and look at him, watching as he leans back a little a simple smirk on his face.

"If ye really want somethin' tonight Y/N, yer gonnae have to tell me."

That smug look doesn't leave his face, rather it seems like it only gets worse as he utters out your name, emphasising it, lowering his voice as he does. To add to this you watch as his hands leave his thighs, palms upwards in a sort of shrug gesture.

He knows what gets you flustered over comms. He knows, you know he knows, but you also know he's gonna make you say it.

"You damn well know what it is Johnny."

"Oh I do, but it'll be much better when it comes out of yer mouth, preferrably with your face all red."

You swallow and look to the floor, keeping your arms crossed as you speak.

"I swear sometimes you do it on purpose. You do those damn jokes, say those fucking statements and you always lower your voice, especially if you know I'm listening. I told you how I liked your accent ONCE and now you use it everytime you can."

"Aye, I do." Again, as before, you can hear that smirk on his face. "I'll admit it. I take every chance I can."

You scrunch up your nose, refusing to look up at him.

Theres silence for a moment and then you hear him shuffle, only then do you look up.

He simply catches your gaze and makes a motion towards himself with his two middle fingers, pretty much beckoning you towards him.

Despite the stubborness you've shown earlier you can't help but follow his silent command.

As you reach him and stand inbetween his legs his hands creep over your thighs, fingers curling around the back of them, squeezing the meat of them, tightly, firmly. Just the right amount of pressure.

He looks up at you, his face a little more serious now, the smirk from earlier still lingers, but it's far less noticable.

"Ye know Y/N, I've thought about having you in here....a lot."

"Really?" You stop a moment, your body tingling, stemming from his fingertips outwards. Your mind seems a little fogged. "I thought....I thought maybe you'd invited me in here today just to...well honestly I thought you were just fucking with me Johnny, but...I couldn't just ignore it."

"Nae, no fuckin'with you, no this time."

"So...does...um...does that mean..." You swallow, struggling with your words. "Look....Johnny I think it's obvious I've liked you for a while now...are...if we're really gonna do this...I...what does it mean? Anything? Just...are we fuck buddies, or something more because...."

Your words trail off, you can't help but cross your arms, a sudden burst of what you can only assume is nearly shame creeps up through you.

Johhny's face changes, subtly, but you catch it, and you don't miss the squeeze he gives your thighs either.

"Hen, once I get a taste of you I don't think I could have anyone else."

He's quick with his movements as he slides his hands up towards your ass, and pushes you slightly closer to himself.

The action he does next is a simple one, yet it sends all kinds of feelings through you.

His tongue touches the skin of your stomach, his hand gently pushing your shirt up out of the way. He licks a stripe upwards, keeping eye contact with you as he does.

"Jesus Johnny...."

He offers a chuckle and grips your hip with his free hand just a little tighter.

"I'm gonna ask this once Bonníe," he looks at you, only a small trace of a smile on his lips. "Are ye sure ye wanna do this? I'll stop if ye say stop, but after this I won't ask again."

Your thoughts swirl in your head for a moment. Wondering if it is what you wanted. If it was worth chancing your friendship, chancing your job, getting caught fraternizing is no small penalty.

In the end your body decides for you.

You nod.

"I do."

That smile of his fits on his face slowly, showing off those pearly whites. His surprisingly sharp canines.

His tongue comes out once more, again licking up your stomach, this time he stands as he moves himself upwards, only bringing his mouth away when he reaches the area just below your breasts, letting your shirt fall back to its original place.

When he finally stands his mouth goes into good use, his lips meeting yours with a feverancy, practically a need. He fists your hair, and darts his tongue into your mouth without any hesitance.

His free hand snakes around your body, finding purchase on the plump of your asscheek.

You let out a moan against his lips which in turn pulls one from him.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck, grabbing onto any part of him you can.

His hand nestled within your hair offers a tug, pulling your head back, taking your lips from his and exposing your neck to him.

His lips latch onto your throat, open mouthed hot kisses against your skin, making your body shiver, tingle. His tongue licks along your skin, warm, and again...hungry.

"Johnny..." You whine out his name, and your body flames up, a part of you is curious as to how he'd gotten you so needy so quickly.

The other part did not give a shit.

"So pretty when you whine like that Bonníe..."

He smiles against your skin, moving towards your jaw, still dragging his lips along your neck, refusing to leave it.

"Maybe we should see if I can get any more out of ye..."

"Johnny...we have to be careful..." You mumble. "We...we can't be caught-"

"Yer right Lass...that might even be more fun..."

He pulls back to look at you, his eyes seemed to darken with the idea that begins to plauge his mind.

"Let's see if ye can keep from screamin' huh?"

"Johnny-"

He cuts you off as his hand come up around your throat, offering a gentle squeeze to the sides as he begins to push you down to the bed.

"Do yer best for me Love." He gives you that goddamn smirk again. "Stay quiet...Can ye do that?"

You nod, your breathing becoming heavier as he stares down at you, hand still wrapped around your throat.

"Atta girl."

He coos out the words and everything in your body seems to be completely englufed in flame.

"You this charming to every girl you fuck Johnny?"

You breathe out the words, hands moving to his chest as you settle against the mattress.

"Jus' you Lass."

Rough hands slide under your shirt, over your stomach, bringing the shirt along with him.

His thumb glides up the center of your torso, pushing down slightly as he continues his movement, his other hand only leaves your throat when he needs to remove the shirt fully.

Your bra is taken off with seemingly expert practice, your breasts exposed to the air, but quickly they're found by hands and mouth.

A rough palm on one and a wet mouth sucking and licking the other.

It takes all your power not to moan, your back arching up into the feeling.

You hadn't been aware of just how touch starved you'd been.

One of your hands tangles into his mohawk, attempting to hold onto something of him.

He looks up at you, pulling away from your breasts.

"Nae, I dinnae say ye could touch lass."

"Johnny-"

"Shut tha' pretty mouth lass...see if ye can be quiet yeah?"

You nod, swallowing as he reaches for your pants. His fingers hooking under the waistband as he unbuttons them with the other.

With one swift movement he's pulled both your jeans and panties down, leaving you bare to him.

"Would ye look at tha'...such a bonnie sigh', Love..."

He smirks and moves in, hands finding your inner thighs, bringing a sigh from your lips.

Before you can say much else you feel a swipe of his tongue over your heat, already you were slick, this was certain to make the problem worse.

His grip on your inner thighs gets a little tighter as he continues with you, he moves his tongue with expertise, eating you out as though he's a man starved.

"Johnny..."

You can't help but let his name slip out, grabbing the sheets beneath you, squirming your hips against his face.

He looks up at you from his position, and even in his eyes you can see the smirk he'd wear.

It's far too soon that he pulls away, you'd been so close to your climax, so close to having that release, until he'd denied you that.

Again you whine his name, and he moves, climbing over you, grabbing your face with one hand, firmly holding your cheeks.

"Aw lass...wei bonnie...are ye feelin' a wei bit needy?"

You nod, the best you can in his grip, moving your hips against his clothed arousal, hoping for even a little bit of friction.

You give a nother small whine, this one more of a sound than that of a noise, again reaching for him, only for his other hand to pin your wrists above you.

"Ah...I told ye, nae touchin' lass"

You simply look at him, unable to do much in your senario. It's then that he kisses you, deeply, his tongue gliding against yours, the taste of your own slick in your mouth.

He lets go of your face, only to rushedly un button his pants, his problem suddenly a bit more annoying than it had been.

The moment he's free, his pants and boxers disgarded he simply looks down at you, seemingly thinking.

Its then that he grabs you by the hips and easily, effortlessly, flips you onto your stomach, running his pointer finger and thumb down your spine for a moment.

"Ye look so good from this angle love..."

He leans over you, his chest to your back, head angled right next to your ear.

He lowers that damn voice of his again.

"Can ye be a good lass fer me and arch jus' a wei bit... chest down love, ass up."

Of course you do as he asks, or rather tells, like its instinct, pressing your chest further into the bed, raising your rear higher into the air.

He leans back, taking a look at the sight in front of him, his hands going to the flesh of your ass like magnets, squeezing gently, your ass and hips, as though he can't decide which he likes better.

"Look at ye...such an obediant little lass...ye like doin' what yer told do ye? Is tha' why ye like rankin' under me? Enjoy the way I order ye around on the field? Makes ye think..."

You don't answer, focused on the feel of his hands, its only when he moves one of those hands to the back of your neck.

"I need an answer lass."

"Yes, yes I do Sir."

You can nearly feel the smirk on his face, he squeezes the back of your neck a little tighter.

"Sir?"

"Yes sir."

"Oho...I like tha' lass..."

He grabs both of your asscheeks again for a moment before you feel one leave only to feel him push into you.

You let out a groan as he pushes in, as much as you can take, to the base, you feel incredibly full. He's girthy.

"Fuck Johnny..."

You murmer.

"Nae...yer gonna call me sir from now on Love..."

You swallow, waiting for him to move.

"Do ye understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good lass."

He gices you this praise and gently he moves his hips, his hand pushing your spine back into that arch you'd subtly moved away from.

His hips move slow, almost painfully so, and he knows this, teasing you with his hands gliding over your back.

"Ye look so good lass...all this jus' fer me..."

"Johnny please...."

"Aw lass...what did I jus' say?"

"Please...sir?"

"Tha's better....use yer words bonnie...what is it ye want?"

"Faster sir, please?"

You hear the small beg in your voice, sure that by the end of all this you'd be begging a lot more.

"Tha's a girl."

His hand moves to your hip, gripping hard as the other moves to your hair, grasping the roots of it, giving a tug as he moves his hips a little faster, filling you with his size, over and over again.

It's only a minute or so before he seems to loose that idea of torturing you, his pace picking up, hips snapping against yours, that slap of skin on skin, the squelch of your arousal ringing in your ears.

"Fuckkk y/n...." It comes out in nearly a growl, and he pushes your upper half further into the bed.

"Yer doin' so good bonnie...so fuckin' good..."

Another maon crawls its way out of your throat, the others you'd managed to quell, small sounds here and there, but you can't stop this one.

You push your hips against his, letting your knees spread further apart trying to get him in at a deeper angle.

"Please sir, please, fuck-"

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can register what you're even trying to beg for, your figers clench at his sheets beneath you, they smell like him, everything smells like him.

"Y/N..."

His voice is a groan, it's all you hear as he shifts your position, yanking you up by your hair, bringing your back to his chest, thrusting himself upwards into you.

"Johnny...fuck!"

You find your arm going over your shoulder, wraping around the back of his neck, trying to find purchase on something

His lips latch onto your neck as though he's drawn to it, his tongue swiping over your skin and his teeth leaving bites along your throat and shoulders. He breaths hard against you, inhaling your scent.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus..."

He groans, his pace picking up a little further, one hand still brusingly on your hip, the other slides down your front, fingers finding your clit easily.

It brings a moan to the surface of your lips, and rather than being scolded Johnny simply murmers another praise of 'good lass' in your ear, his hips snapping against yours, rythmic.

"Johnny-"

"Y/N..." He huffs, his fingers going faster against your bud. "'M close...need ye to tell me where..."

"Inside Johnny, please...fill me up..."

"Jesus Y/N..."

His voice is breathy, heavy against your skin as he continues, his hips getting erratic, until finally he gives a groan, shoving his face into your shoulder, riding out his climax, the feeling of his cum hitting your inner walls pushing you closer to yours.

He rides out his, moving his hips slightly, much slower than before, and keeps his hand going, trying to keep his previous pace.

"C'mon lass...ye can let go now...it's yer turn..."

He mumbles, breatheless.

It's not much longer of this praising and the movement of his fingers before you do just that, squeezing around him and moaning out his name as you finally reach that high.

As the two of you come down, breathing hard, Johnny still inside you, head leaning against your shoulder, he slips an arm around your waist and offers a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

"Thank ye lass..." he murmers. "Tha' was fun."

"Thank you Johnny."

"Ye ain't gotta thank me...I've wanted to do tha' for god knows how long."

"Maybe we can do it again sometime."

"Oh trust me lass...we will be."

[bloody-bee-tea]

The sweetest dessert

The curse goes down almost easily, but the taste it leaves behind is more vile than usual and Suguru distantly thinks that it has to be one or the other. Apparently he can’t have only good things. He chokes back some bile, but the taste in his mouth is appalling and only adds fuel to the fire that is currently roaring in his stomach.

“Is it bad?” Satoru asks, having finished off the curse Suguru didn’t want and Suguru wants to answer, wants to say something biting and sarcastic because what kind of question is that even, but he fears that when he opens his mouth he might as well bend over immediately.

Suguru hasn’t had to throw up due to a curse in a while but this might just break his streak.

“I guess so,” Satoru whispers when Suguru still doesn’t answer him and Suguru presses a hand to his mouth before he nods.

The movement doesn’t upset his stomach further which is like the tiniest of wins he could hope for but he’ll take it.

“I brought chocolate, in case you want it? It might help with the taste,” Satoru says and rummages around in his pockets.

It might help with the taste, or it might make everything worse—both cases have been true in the past for Suguru but he thinks that today he’ll take the risk, that’s how vile the curse was. If he has to throw up due to the chocolate, then at least the taste of the curse will be drowned out by the taste of bile.

It’s not ideal, but Suguru would take it.

“Ah, here it is,” Satoru finally says and proudly presents a pretty, pink package to Suguru. Suguru’s heart drops when he sees it, because it’s Valentine’s chocolate; especially packaged for this day, with a bold ‘Will you be my Valentine’ printed in gold on it.

And it doesn’t mean shit.

“Here, take this, maybe it helps,” Satoru says, offering the chocolate to Suguru and for a moment Suguru forgets about the shitty taste in his mouth. For a moment all he tastes is bitterness, entirely made up of his own feelings.

“Thank you,” he finally manages to get out when Satoru shakes his hand slightly and Suguru doesn’t dare to look at Satoru as he takes it.

Satoru must not know what it means, must not know what day it is today and he probably thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that the chocolate today comes with stupid questions and hearts, Suguru rationalises. That must be it.

Still, the thought of eating the chocolate and having to look at Satoru while he does so makes his stomach flip over with unhappiness and so when he unwrapped the chocolate he simply swallows it whole.

It doesn’t do much for the taste, if he’s being honest, because Suguru barely gave it time to melt in his mouth before he choked it down but that doesn’t matter.

“Uhm,” Satoru says, eying him warily. “Did that help at all? Did you even taste that?” he finally asks and Suguru shrugs.

“It’s fine,” he says, even though it’s not fine, still. The taste of the curse still lingers on his tongue and he did swallow the chocolate too quickly to even know if it was normal chocolate, or the slightly bitter one Suguru prefers.

Though he guesses on a day like this, bitter chocolate is not very popular.

“I don’t think I have a second one,” Satoru says and starts to pat down his pants, as if he could produce another chocolate that way.

“I said it’s fine,” Suguru gives back, his breathing carefully controlled so that he doesn’t throw up belatedly and he cringes slightly when Satoru levels him with a look.

“You’re as white as a sheet, Suguru, you’re clearly not fine. I saw a café down the street, we should stop there, get some coffee into you. That always helps you, right? They probably have some sweets, too, maybe even little cakes? Come on, that will do you some good, alright?”

Satoru is rambling as he takes Suguru’s arm to drag him along the street and Suguru stumbles after him before he remembers himself.

“Satoru, we shouldn’t. Yaga said to come right back after this mission,” Suguru reminds him, because the thought of being with Satoru in a café on this day upsets him more than any curse ever could.

It would mean the world to Suguru, it would mean nothing at all to Satoru and it would give the wrong impression to everyone in that café and Suguru simply can’t do it.

“Then lets just get a coffee to go for you, Suguru, you clearly still feel bad and I’m sorry my chocolate didn’t help at all. Let me treat you to coffee, so that you can actually give your report to Yaga without throwing up on his shoes, okay?”

Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, before he swallows rapidly when he can feel bile rising in his throat again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Satoru gives back and Suguru briefly shakes his head before he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths.

He only speaks again when he thinks it’s safe to do so.

“You would normally jump on an opportunity like that. You’d find it funny.”

“Seeing you barf on Yaga’s shoes? Hell yes,” Satoru immediately agrees. “But you’d hate it. You hatehate feeling this way, so I’m not going to make it worse. I do know boundaries, Suguru.”

Suguru opens his mouth to reassure Satoru that he knows that, but Satoru doesn’t give him the chance to do so.

“Come now, I won’t even make you go in there, okay? I have your order memorised anyway, so you just wait outside and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Satoru continues to drag Suguru along the street but true to his words he doesn’t make him enter the café with him. Suguru can see him through the window, can read the orders right off Satoru’s lips, filling in the gaps from memory, and Suguru does his very best to not take note of all the couples around, of the glaring Valentine’s Day decoration of the pink colour everywhere.

He would love to spend this day with Satoru and actually have it mean something, but he knows that it can’t be, that it will never be, and so the generic brown cup Satoru presses into his hand eventually is the only thing he’ll get today.

And even so, he’ll gladly take it, because at least that means Satoru is at his side, no matter in what capacity.

~*~*~

They report to Yaga, they shower and change and take some down-time and by the time dinner rolls around Suguru feels like himself again, the taste of the curse long forgotten.

“Suguru!” Satoru yells out just a second before he barges into Suguru’s room. “We’re going out for dinner today!” he declares and unease fills Suguru’s chest.

“No, we’re not,” he shoots back, pressing himself more firmly into the couch because there is no way in hell that he’ll go out with Satoru on this day, to do something that can be read as romantic when it doesn’t mean anything to Satoru.

Suguru is not going to hurt himself like that.

“Aw, Suguru, I placed a reservation, though. We kind of have to go.”

“Take Shoko,” Suguru shortly says, willing Satoru to take the hint and finally leave him alone, but of course it’s not working because things like that never work on Satoru.

“Absolutely not, I’m not going out for dinner with her and have you stay here.”

“Satoru, please,” Suguru sighs out. “I don’t feel like going out.”

Satoru works his jaw a few times before he deflates. “Fine. I’ll go pick the food up. What do you want?”

This is so not what Suguru wants and he winces when he opens his mouth to correct Satoru.

“I don’t feel like being in company right now, Satoru. I want to eat alone today.”

That seems to catch Satoru completely off guard because he freezes where he stands.

“That doesn’t make any sense. I’m not company, I’m—whatever I am, you never complain about my presence, not once, not even when being around other people gets too much for you, I was always good. What is going on, Suguru?”

There’s a defiant note to his tone now and his entire stance has changed, as if Satoru is bracing for battle and in all honesty, it just makes Suguru feel bad. Everything Satoru just said is the truth after all and Suguru doesn’t know how to explain it.

“What the hell is up with you today?” Satoru asks when Suguru stays silent for too long and Suguru sighs.

It seems he’ll have to say something.

“I don’t know if you know this,” he starts with because with Satoru’s upbringing it’s always hit or miss with these cultural celebrations and traditions, “but it’s Valentine’s Day today. Or as others like to call it, Singles Awareness Day.”

Suguru tries to joke and he doesn’t even know why, because a hint of bitterness creeps into his voice. He has never minded Valentine’s Day much, but now that he actually has someone he wants to spend it with, it seems like the worst day ever.

“Single’s Awareness Day, that’s funny,” Satoru says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’m very aware that I’m single, and I’m very aware that you’re single. And I’m trying to make us not be that.”

Suguru feels as if his heart is missing a beat before a dull pain spreads in his chest. So that is it. Satoru wants to go out to set Suguru up with someone. Or to set himself up with someone? But that doesn’t make any sense, and Suguru shakes his head in his confusion.

“I don’t—you want to go out to find a date?” he asks for clarification and he doesn’t know what to do when Satoru groans and slaps a hand to his face.

“I’m trying to make us date, Suguru,” he gets out, “but you’re not being very helpful.”

“You want to date someone?” Suguru doesn’t know what to do with that information. He was under the impression that Satoru doesn’t want.

“You! I want to date you, goddamit, Suguru, why do you have to be so difficult?” Satoru almost yells out and Suguru blinks.

“But you don’t want,” he finally mutters and watches how confusion washes over Satoru’s face.

“Huh?” Satoru very eloquently asks and Suguru swallows.

“You—I overheard you, when you rejected that girl a few weeks back. You said you’re not into girls. And then a few days later, the same with that man, where you said you’re not into guys, either. So I just—you’re not into anyone, right?”

“Oh dear gods,” Satoru groans out. “I’m not into anyone, because I’m into you.”

“Into me,” Suguru repeats and his brain has a hard time comprehending what Satoru is saying. “You want to date me.”

“Yes, Suguru, I want to date you,” Satoru agrees and comes closer, dropping down to his knees in front of Suguru. “Can you please just get that into your head now so you can reject me in that kind way of yours? I can take a hint, you know.”

“Reject you?” That is the furthest thing from Suguru’s mind right now and he doesn’t understand where Satoru would get that from. “Why would I reject you?”

“Because you’re clearly not into me? I mean, you swallowed that chocolate whole—impressive, by the way—and you rejected my offer for a coffee date and now even for a dinner date. I might be a bit dense but three time’s the charm, as they say, right?”

“No!” Suguru almost yells out and fists his hand in Satoru’s shirt. “I just thought—I thought you didn’t want anyone, let alone me, so I was trying to dodge these situations because I want.”

Satoru blinks at him.

“Okay, but do you want me?” he then carefully asks, as if Suguru could ever say no to that.

“Yes! Yes, I do. Of course I want you, Satoru, and if I had known I would have cherished that chocolate and I would have agreed to that coffee date.”

“Alright,” Satoru says with a smile and Suguru is surprised to find a light blush on his face. “What about a dinner date, then?” Satoru asks, though clearly he must know the answer to that by now.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” Suguru says, just so that there can be no more misunderstandings and Satoru beams at him.

“Wonderful,” he says and then leans up to brush his lips over the corner of Suguru’s mouth. “Just getting a taste of dessert, don’t mind me,” he whispers as he pulls back and Suguru can’t have that.

“Why stop at a taste?” he asks, before he pulls Satoru back in and this time there is nothing fleeting about the way their lips press together.

“You’re always so right, Suguru,” Satoru happily mutters as they part, though he doesn’t move away far. “And since I’m a glutton, we’ll just do that again,” he then decides and leans right back in.

By the time they remember that there’s an actual date to have, it’s five minutes to their reservation and there’s no way they’ll ever make that, so they do end up ordering in.

Which is just as fine, because that gives them time to enjoy their dessert whenever they damn well please, and if it is between bites of their actual dinner, well, there’s no one around to judge them for it.  

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 51 - High-Temperature Trap (part 3)

They're insane.

Took him long enough. Also, love how Kerubim recognizes him by his evil-ass smile. Do you stare at him smiling a lot, whenever he comes to beat the shit out of you, Keke? Is this ingrained in your memory?

This, too, is doomed toxic platonic brotherly yuri.

"Not my favorite brother" I know that a lot of people interpret this line as him casually dropping the ecaflip demigod lore, because, sure, they have like, 20 brothers, but... 

But considering what we know about the Crepin family from the comic, — I like to think this is Kerubim trying to hurt Atcham by implying that he likes their dead brothers, — whom they barely remember due to those dying when they were like 7, — more than him.

This might be a reach, but it's a funny reach, okay?

It's so nice of him to correct Kerubim on the exact wording of the death threat he usually uses. 🥰

I'm insane. Just so you know. Like I have no comment, other than saying that I am insane. "My dear Kerubim," and "your beloved brother" make me lose my mind.

This is beef between two people who used to be besties. The affection they held for one another is used as a sort of sarcastic ammo. From Atcham's side, with "dear," and "beloved brother," and from Kerubim's side, with "not my favorite brother."

There's a lot to unpack here, and a lot of it was unpacked in previous posts, — but...

Atcham viewing Kerubim's situation when they were kids as better is depressing.

Despite this being a perfect plan to kill Kerubim, even the idea of besting Kerubim in the self-esteem psychic warfare makes him grin. If he can't get rid of him, he will put him in his place.

To Atcham, Kerubim is the egotistical one, obsessed with what other people think of him, — and to Kerubim, Atcham is the psychotic insane menace to society. And neither really stops to think about the fact that they hate the other for the things they do themselves

You just know Atcham is thinking about how narcissistic and mentally ill Kerubim is to be caught in a saw trap like that. Despite being the "so obsessed with Kerubim that he keeps building him saw traps" guy.

Yet again, I'd like to reiterate, that I NEED Kerubim to drop the Atcham lore.

This is what I keep saying about Atcham being edited out of Kerubim's life — and about Atcham probably building other saw traps for him.

Here, Kerubim attempts to reach out and let Indie know that, despite everything, he does like him. Indie's response is that when Kerubim dies, his body will be an awesome to display in his museum.

I already talked at length about how fucked this moment is, in the long Kerubim analysis. God.

I really do think that Kerubim had a lot of warm feelings towards Indie that may not have been entirely reciprocated, which lead to him playing up his own hatred towards Indie.

...And he had to deal with Indie saying this, while the other person he tries to hate but can't quite manage to, was present.

I would say this is worse than going to a battle too.

From Kerubim's point of view, Indie didn't lose because he might have deep, hidden feelings of camaraderie for him. He lost because he was a better person.

While Kerubim proved himself to be exactly who Atcham thinks he is: someone so egotistical that he'd rather die, than be embarrassed.

Drinking tea from a dainty little cup while his evil twin is dying. Freak.

He assumes that everyone is as obsessed with their self-esteem issues and hatred as he and Kerubim are.

Just like it didn't occur to Kerubim to stop giving a damn and prove his brother wrong for once, it didn't occur to Atcham that Indie might not hate Kerubim that much, or care about winning.

You won the war for Indie's heart, Keke, and all it took is a near-death experience and him learning even a bit about your insane familial drama. We are so back.

One of the crack theories I used to have, is that Atcham might have killed indie sometime before the movie, — however, considering he doesn't recognize Lilotte, I think he's just saying shit to be scary here, in hopes Indie changes his mind.

Very eloquent. sdfgsdfgdsfg

[clubgh0stgirlz3000]

We'll Never Have Sex

A/N: Okay so technically this wasn't formally requested but its per request of my best friend who is suffering from the severe lack of Chris Halliwell fics. I know its completely unclear who or what my blog is for but at this point i don't even know i just find someone hot and i write about them. Anyways enjoy!! Love you @facingreailitysgravity !!

Summary: Beating around the bush only holds up so long against Chris Halliwell

Pairing: Chris Halliwell x unspecified female character

Warnings: technically suggestive but its mostly for comedic purposes

Genre:Fluff

She assumed that after many months of having Chris as her covens white lighter, it would be a lot easier to ignore the way the air in the room seemed to pull tight against her heart when he walked into it. But after almost half a year and a thousand conversations with her best friend about "not bottling up her feelings" (yeah right), she came to the realization that not only was it getting harder to avoid her feelings, but they were also getting worse.

It went from a light twinge in her chest when he made a sarcastic comment, to feeling like she'd been throat punched every time he smiled. Soon she determined that she had to keep her distance, at least until she could look at him without feeling like she'd explode. But Chris, immediately noticing the sudden absence of his favorite witch and, by his own determination, the love of his life, was over her little vacation from his presence incredibly quickly.

It had been nearly a week since she told him to "shut the fuck up" because her show was on, or since she smacked him upside the head for making a snarky comment towards her best friend, and Chris couldn't lie, he missed it. His desperate attempts to corner her had been foiled all day, and at this point Chris presumed that her friends were doing it simply because they liked to watch him squirm. Finally, after what felt like hours of practically chasing her around the house, he peeked into the kitchen to find her alone. She had her back turned to him as she faced the stove, scraping something half-heartedly out of a pan.

He padded silently across the kitchen to stand over her shoulder, grinning as he leaned in "Whatcha doing?" Her heart jumped at the sudden noise and she turned around so her back was pressed against the stove, her lips pressed in a thin line. "You scared the shit out of me, you're lucky i didn't blow your head off or something!" She smacked the dish gloves she'd been wearing against his chest, trying to ignore the way her chest tightened and her cheeks heated up when he simply grinned back at her.

"I'd say i was sorry, but i wouldn't have had to sneak up on you if you hadn't been avoiding me all week." his hand wrapped around her calf as he squatted in front of her to pick up the gloves, a mischievous glint in his eye as he used the slight bend in her knees to push himself back up. She watched the entire action with an eyebrow raised, her breath hitching when he stood back up and was somehow much closer than before. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She looked past his shoulder to avoid eye contact, her breathing labored as she felt his own hitting her neck with every exhale. "Sure you don't."

His grin never faded as he studied the side of her face, one hand coming up to gently direct her eyes back to his. "Look, I know you're not mad at me because, well, I do no wrong. So I don't really know why you've been avoiding me, but i just wanted to let you know i'm declining your unspoken offer for space, so..." She tried to suppress a smile at his sarcasm, failing the second she caught the familiar flash of his teeth in her peripheral. "...Okay." She mumbled the words through a smile that made her cheeks hurt, hoping he wouldn't catch the way they burned red at their proximity. "Okay? You're not gonna argue with me?" he gasped dramatically, clutching his chest in mock shock.

She rolled her eyes, leaning back on her palms against the stove, before sighing. "No... honestly, i think i hated it more than you did." Chris gasped again, painfully unaware of the fact that his fingertips were still resting gently on her chin. "Did you just admit that you enjoy my company? Have you been possessed? Do i need to call my mother?" His smile returned when he caught the unamused look on her face, laughing softly. "Alright, alright. I'm done teasing. Seriously, i missed you. What the fuck did you do that for?"

The heat gracing her face suddenly bled down her neck at the question, wanting to avert eye contact again, stopped by his hand still pressed against the side of her face. "i just... had some things to think about." He scoffed lightly, leaning in closer. He spoke her name gently as if afraid he'd scare her away, his lips hovering over her ear. "Yeah?" She hummed, swallowing hard as he stared straight into her eyes. "I wanna kiss you..." Her breath hitched at the admission, her brain caught between wondering how the words rolled off his tongue so gracefully and wondering what the hell she was supposed to say, so she opted for staring up at him with her mouth slightly agape.

His smiled seemed to widen yet soften at the same time, the hand that had been teasing the skin of her face for the last few minutes finally fully resting against her cheek, the other hand reaching to tangle in the hair at the back of her neck as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Is that okay with you?" She blinked, once, twice, before nodding, finally picking her jaw off the floor. "that's not an answer." Chris' thumb ran across her cheek bone as he continued to stare down at her, waiting. "Just fucking kiss me already."

He laughed, his head tilting back slightly before he leaned in impossibly closer, his lips hovering over hers. "I missed you so fucking bad" he mumbled out the words the best he could as fast as he could before he used the hand still woven in her hair to finally pull her lips against his. Her eyes fluttered shut and she lifted one hand with the intention of carding it through his hair, her efforts foiled when he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and her arm suddenly gave out, her hand falling against his chest instead.

Suddenly there was a noise coming from the threshhold between the living room and the kitchen as the girls friends all landed atop one another, her brother scrambling from the bottom of the dog pile to help his girlfriend up before crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look intimidating. "We eat here. This is a public area. What the hell do you two think your-mmph" The girl laughed from her spot against the stove as her brothers mouth was covered by his girlfriend and he was dragged back into the living room. The girls best friend was left still sitting on the floor, scrambling to her feet when she noticed the pair staring at her. "Uhhhh, use protection?" she then slid back into the living room where Chris could hear her mumbling something about "his intentions with her wife" as she sat back on the couch.

He cocked an eyebrow at the girl in his arms before orbing them up to her bedroom, landing conveniently on the edge of her bed as his hands found the hem of his shirt and he swiftly pulled it over his head. Her breath caught again before she put a hand against his chest. "I'm not sleeping with you. At least, not right now..." Chris smiled softly as he moved to grab his shirt "perfectly cool with me" he hummed as he went to pull his shirt back over his head before she stopped him yet again. "You can keep that off thought. You know, for science" He raised his eyebrow but set his shirt back down nonetheless, chuckling at the girl. "For science? What does that even-"

"Put your shirt back on, Christopher!" The girls best friend called through the bedroom door as she made her way to the attic, a laundry basket in her arms that she used to rap dramatically against the worn out wood. The girl rolled her eyes as Chris' widened. "How did she-" "I'm all knowing, Halliwell! Keep it in your pants!" The girl across from him giggled to herself as she listened to her best friend skip down the stairs, rolling her eyes as she pulled Chris in for a kiss.

[beyonddmythoughtssworld]

Broken Hearts Club || Part I

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x Reader, slight!JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: You wake up next to the last person you would’ve ever expected, not knowing this is the beginning of the storm that is Rafe Cameron.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: 18+ content, kissing, touching, slight smut (+oral), drinking, cursing (That’s it I think? Lmk if there’s more but I don’t think there is lol)

Enjoy the first part to this quick little series I’ve been thinking about!

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you’re not in your room.

You sit up, immediately being constricted from the arm wrapped around you Looking around the room, you realize you don’t even know whose room this is. Your eyes scan the surroundings. Whoever you slept with doesn’t keep a lot in his room, everything neatly put up like he’s ready for a military check at any moment. The only mess in the room is from the pile of clothes thrown carelessly around, which reminded you of your own lack of clothing.

Shit.

Willing to bite the bullet and find out who was lying next to you, you slowly turned my head to the man laying next to sleeping soundly. Laying in all his glory was no other than Rafe mother fucking Cameron. What in the actual-

You can’t even begin to describe the tumultuous relationship you shared with the kook asshole. You can’t even begin to count the amount of times you’ve witnessed him driving his fist into one of your best friends’ faces, let alone the amount of times you’ve driven your fist into his. Being what he considered the scum of the Earth, the only words you two have ever exchanged included phrases that would make a nun blush. You hated him and everything he stood for. He was an entitled, arrogant person who felt like the world was at his fingertips. And it was.

So what the hell possessed you to sleep with him?

The only thought on your mind at this point is to get out of here without waking him up, wanting to avoid whatever morning after conversation would happen. Taking a deep breath, you grab his arm lightly and begin to move it off of you. Once you get it off you, you hold it up as you slip from under it and off the bed before placing it back in your spot. Finally able to breathe, you move onto your next task. Getting your damn clothes.

Finding our dress immediately, you curse at the man laying down silently at the ruined fabric, the rip going from the where the zipper was at the top of the dress all the way to the bottom. You look around and see a white button up not too far, and hurry to put that on since he owes you a damn outfit anyway. You find one of your heels laying next to the door, quickly picking it up and looking for the matching pair.

“It’s by the bathroom door.”

Your entire body freezes where it stands. Maybe if you don’t move-

“I know you’re still there. Your loudness is kind of hard to ignore.”

Letting go of the breath you were holding, you rush to the bathroom door and pick up the second heel, slipping them both on before beginning to walk to the door to leave.

“Not even gonna offer me eggs?”, the kook sarcastically asks, rolling over and leaning on his elbows. The blanket slipped down to his waist as he sat up, and you caught yourself watching the sheet fall down to reveal his physique, immediately bringing yourself to look at his eyes before he notices. Based on the smirk that graces his face, you know that your prayers aren't answered.

“I think you got enough last night, don’t you?”, you quipped back, his eyes now taking the time to scan you as you stand in his flannel. Unlike you, his eyes don’t avert even knowing you notice he’s staring at your chest, and your stomach churns at the thought that nothing is left to the imagination anymore. Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest to maintain any sort of dignity, turning around, “Well as fun as this is, I’m gonna go.”

Walking out the room before he could say anything to add any embarrassment to this situation, you make a beeline for the stairs and run down them. You make it to the front door, thanking the universe for the lack of cars in the driveway. The only vehicle being Rafe’s truck, and you walk up the passenger side and peek in. Sure enough, your phone and purse are both in the seat, and you thank drunk Rafe for leaving the truck unlocked. Quickly grabbing your things, you begin walking towards the direction of your house before realizing you had no idea how to get there from here. You walk a couple of blocks from Tanneyhill before deciding to call JJ.

You pull out your phone, taking the low percentage as a boost in speed and going to your contact list and clicking on the first name in your favorites. The phone rings a record three times before a groggy voice answers, and it’s only then you ask yourself what time it is.

”What the hell are you calling for at the ass crack of dawn?” JJ Maybank’s morning voice is enough to make your brain short-wire, taking a second to recover before telling him you need him to pick you up. After a small back and forth that ended with you just telling him you’re gonna send him your location and stressing your near dead phone, the other man grumbled a quick okay and you hung up, sitting down at the curb because there’s no way you can get any lower.

He gets there in fifteen minutes, stopping his bike right in front of you and raising his eyebrows at your choice of clothing. Standing and dusting off your ass, you glare at him, “Don’t even think about saying anything to me right now.”

“Wasn’t going to,” he replies, scanning you before nodding his head to behind him. You straddle the bike, wrapping your arms around his lean body. “You alright?”

Nodding and leaning against his shoulder, he takes the hint and starts driving away. When you make it to your house, you ask him to come inside out of courtesy, but can’t deny the relief when he says he needs to get ready for work. Sending him off a promise of visiting him later, you run up the small steps to your house.

After the world's longest shower, you lay down in your bed and actually give yourself time to think about the events of last night. You weren’t too drunk to not remember the night fully, but you were drunk enough to think last night was a good idea. In your defense, you weren’t exactly in the state to make the best decisions considering you spent all of yesterday having to deal with the incessant will they won’t they, never ending saga between JJ and Kie. The familiar feeling of jealousy began to bubble in your chest when remembering the way he spun her around after successfully surfing the biggest wave of the day, something he used to reserve for you.

You feel pathetic being the girl helplessly in love with her best friend, but here you are. You don’t even remember how it happened. One day he was JJ, the boy who you can’t remember not being there at any time in your life. Then all of a sudden he was JJ, the man who made your heart feel like it was gonna beat out of your chest if he kept standing that close. You’ve always loved him, but in the last two years that love went from platonic to lovesick puppy extremely quickly. It doesn’t help that the man looks like he was carefully crafted by God himself.

It was easier to ignore the attraction when you could write it off as a meaningless crush, but the last few months have proved that the crush has done nothing but grow into full on feelings, wishing it was you he came to when he was drunk at a bonfire instead of the endless tourists. Wishing it was you who he looked at was a goddess like he did Kie. Wishing it was you he fell over.

The last straw had been last night. You were hanging at the Chateau with the group, sitting around the fire and laughing at Pope’s poor attempt at chugging a beer. While he’s come a long way, he messed up at his attempt to beat John B in a contest of who could finish faster. Choking on the beer, he spits it up prompting everyone to break out in laughter.

“Okay, that was depressing. Watch and learn boys.”

JJ quickly stabs his knife into the side of the can, tipping it over and drinking the beer in record time. He bowed, everyone clapping mockingly before breaking out in another round of drunk laughter. Suddenly, Sarah gasps at the sound of a song playing, turning up the speaker and grabbing you and Kie to a stand before dancing.

The boys soon join in, JJ coming over and grabbing your wrist before twirling you around, pulling you into his chest as you both laughed drunkenly. It’s moments like these that make your heart stop, and you’d curse the boy if you didn’t relish in the feeling of his attention.

Everyone gets lost in the moment of dancing, you all switch partners at one point in the other. Take a second to step off to the side to pour another shot, you look around and laugh at Pope’s sad ass robot moves, Cleo looking at like he’s lost his mind. Sarah and John B have started slow dancing, and you almost puke at the cuteness of it all. Your eyes drift to JJ as he dances with Kie, and it seems innocent enough. That is, until he basically presses his face into her chest at the motion of motorboating them. She lightly pushes his head away, but you can see the faint blush on her cheeks.

The familiar pang returns to your chest, but you down a shot and force your eyes away and you make your way back into the group to dance. When JJ attempts to dance with you again, you can’t help but compare the way he dances with you to how he was with Kiara. He danced with her like he was always knocking on the door to see if it’s unlocked, and he danced with you like- well like a friend. Like that door for him is locked. You do everything to push the thoughts from your head, forcing a beer down before quickly chugging another.

The drunker you get though, the more you’re able to overthink their every interaction. Like when she begins to get cold and he doesn’t hesitate to hand her his hoodie. Or when she asks for another round of shots and he gets up like he has a fire under his ass to pour them another round. Or when he takes your former seat next to her when everything dies down.

Eventually, it was either get the hell out of there or embarrass yourself. You make up some dumb excuse about your mom texting you about the missing alcohol, the pogues protesting but letting you go knowing how your mom is. When JJ offers to walk you home you almost want to take him up on his offer, just to get a little slither of his time. But the thought is quickly replaced with how pathetic that sounded, and you turned it down, walking away with a promise that you were sober enough to make it home.

At the time you were, but then you remembered the liquor in your bag and decided to take a detour.

Which brought you to your run in with the infamous kook.

•••

Stumbling down the beach, you take a swig of the bottle of Apple Crown you stole from your mom’s cabinet earlier that day. You brought it with the intention of sharing with everyone instead of living off the kegger and bad tasting beer, but now you were halfway through the bottle crying like a loser walking alone on the beach.

The alcohol burns as it goes down your throat, and you welcome the feeling. You’ll do anything to numb the pain in your chest, so if getting drunk off your ass will stop yourself from caring about the blonde who takes over your every thought then so be it. Not feeling like walking anymore, you drop down to the beach and laugh at the drops of liquor that spilled on your lap.

“Oops,” you giggle to yourself, taking another sip.

You lay back on the sand, being mindful of the bottle to not tip it over and lose anymore alcohol you’ll no doubt need, you look up at the sky. The moon is full and illuminating, and you laugh to yourself again when you notice how blurry the stars are.

“Shit.”

You sit up at the sudden voice, slightly swaying at all of the blood rushing to your brain. Holding your arms out as if to steady you, you regain your vision and look at where you think the voice came from. Standing there in a tux was Rafe, his white shirt halfway unbuttoned, the collar hanging as if he'd spent half the night pulling at it in frustration. His dress shoes are in his hands, and he seems just as shocked to see you as you are to see him.

“What are you doing here?” you break the silence, wincing at the slur in your tone. His gaze hardens, “This is my spot.”

“Your spot? What- daddy bought your own private section of the beach?” you bite back, hating yourself for the moment of guilt you feel at snapping at the guy who at the moment hasn’t done anything to you. While you normally don’t make it a habit to feel bad for a kook, you know your anger is mostly at the person who you call your best friend. Rafe is just closer in proximity.

“Wow, even when drunk I can still count on you to be a bitch.” he spits at you before plopping down next to you. You look at him incredulously, “Why are you sitting next to me if I’m such a bitch?”

“Like I said, this is my spot,” he looks at you, and you have to force yourself to not break eye contact, staring him down. “You want to be alone, you leave.”

Scoffing, you begin to stand before quickly realizing standing was not an option right now. Going back to your sitting position, “I don’t want to leave.”

“Well then share,” he holds out his hand. You open your mouth to curse at him, but the look on his face stops the words. He looks tired, but there’s something else in his eyes that you can't place but makes you hand the bottle over without argument.

He takes a gulp of the liquor, handing it back to you. You do the same, and the two of you hand the bottle back and forth until it’s almost empty. You offer him the last drop, immediately taking it when he denies. If the alcohol wasn’t hitting before, it definitely is now. Even though you pride yourself on not being a lightweight, you can't ignore that over half the bottle was gone before you even had a drinking partner.

“So, is there a reason you’re alone getting drunk in the middle of the beach?” he breaks the silence for the second time that night, and it was only then you thought about how comfortable the silence felt. Maybe it was the alcohol.

“I don’t know, is there a reason you’re getting drunk in the middle of the beach?”

He laughs at that, and it’s the first genuine laugh you’ve ever heard from him. You find that you don’t mind the sound, lightly joining in on the laughter. It dies down, and you both look at each other as if having some silent agreement that you’re both there for the same reason. To not be somewhere else.

You don’t remember who kissed who. One second he was leaning in- or did you lean in?- and the next your lips were lightly touching, testing the waters. Once getting the confirmation that neither planned on pulling away in disgust, the next kiss shared was hungrier, the both of you pressing your lips together roughly. All thoughts leave from your mind as you deepen the kiss, biting his lip. He makes a noise that’s between a groan and a growl, pushing harder against you.

Rafe’s hands make their way to your hips, lifting you up easily and placing you on his lap. Pulling away for a breath, you look at Rafe as he does you, and you see the silent question swimming in his irises. This is the time to pull away and forget this even happened before it goes to far. You grab his jaw, slamming your lips back on to his with a moan, pushing him down until he is laying on the sand, his hands moving from your hips to your ass, gripping it and assisting your movements as you begin to grind on him.

The heat between your legs grows as you feel him start to harden, the hand not on his jaw moving its way down his chest to his pants, unbuckling them. Abandoning that plan, you begin to finish the unbuttons of his shirt. You move the kisses from his mouth, to his jaw and down to his neck where you take your time, relishing in the way he moaned and wrapped his hand in your hair, gripping it to pull your head back up so he can continue kissing you.

He flips you both over, moving your legs apart to make room for him to slot himself between your thighs. While he grinds against you, you go back to the task of removing his pants. His hands have pushed your dress up to your waist, sitting up to take your panties off. You follow his lips, sitting up as well and ignoring the rush to your head, intent on taking these damn pants off. He slaps your hand away, pushing you back down before kissing down your stomach. He nips at your stomach, your hips, the inside of your thighs before settling down. Placing light kisses on your lips, lightly grazing his mouth on where you need him most, you find yourself bucking your hips to get any sort of friction you can.

He slaps your thigh, placing a hand on your stomach to hold you down before circling his tongue on your bundle of nerves. Your legs lightly shake at the sensation of him eating you like a man starved, humming into your holds and lapping at you. Your head throws back when he lightly grazes his teeth over your clit, soothing it over with his tongue and continuing. It’s like your ears are ringing, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of his mouth on you. You’re close to coming at an embarrassingly quick time, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he slips a finger into your clenching hole, letting out a moan of his own at the feeling of your tight walls on his fingers.

Soon enough he’s three fingers deep, tongue lapping quickly at your clit as you moan uncontrollably, begging him for a release. He slaps your thigh once more, and you look down at him to see his eyes already on you. His blue eyes hold yours, and the eye contact remains as you reach your climax, an unspoken promise between you to not look away. As the end of your release comes in waves, you lean back on the sand, eyes closed in satisfaction.

Rafe kisses his way up your stomach slowly, taking his time at your neck just as you did, before kissing you roughly. You moan at the taste, your tongues dancing as you fight for dominance that you inevitably lose as you’re too exhausted to fight for long. The kisses go from heated to slow after a few minutes, the both of you just laying there. He pulls away, pecking your lips a couple of times, “Come home with me.”

You don’t hesitate to say yes.

[hurlumerlu]

Bitter, bitter

(another little Not Me fic)

They take way too long to spot him – especially Gram, who should know better and who, when he finally realizes they aren’t alone, just pushes Gene behind him and then fucking freezes, the moron.

Funny, the effect Black tends to have on people.

"Gonna have a panic attack ?" He does not bother to sound sympathetic.

"Heart attack, actually." Hard to tell what’s more insulting : that Gram relaxes when he recognizes him, or that he doesn’t relax entirely. "And if I drop dead because of you Eugene will hate you for life, and that will serve you right."

"Don’t decide what I would or wouldn’t do", she chides, her head popping up over his shoulder. Her cheeks are flushed – unsurprising, given how giddily and enthusiastically they were making out a minute ago – and she seems a little embarassed, but her gaze has its usual quiet, attentive quality. Did he even know she could kiss like that, so recklessly ? He was always careful with her. Caution is all you’ve got when you're bad at tenderness. "Good evening, Black. It’s been a while."

"Eugene."

"Really ?" cuts Gram, propping himself up on his desk. "This is how we’re gonna do this ?" His lips are very red. That makes sense. They would be.

"Mind your own business," Black shoots back before he can think better of it. Behind strands of bleached hair, two incredulous eyes meet his :

"This is my dorm. My door which lock you picked –"

"Great job noticing it, by the way."

"– my beer you’re drinking in my chair. But please tell me how this isn’t my business."

"Eloquent," Black deadpans. "What happened to property is theft ?"

"And what happened to anarchy is an ideology for artists, only applicable in the abstract ?" retorts Gene, because she has a phenomenal memory when it comes to winning an argument.

He shrugs. "I stand by it."

"I’m with him on that one."

"Yeah, because neither of you will open a history book that doesn’t have Laws written on the cover."

For a moment, it almost feels like nothing has changed, like everything is the same as before – before he’d understood just how urgently Todd had to be dealt with and that this was something he needed to do alone.

But if nothing had changed Gene would be nestled against him, not positioned carefully equidistant from the two people facing her. He wonders how Gram feels about that. How he felt about it back then. He always looked happy, and inordinately fond, but – as Black should have kept in mind – that doesn’t actually mean shit. He certainly feels neither joy nor fondness at Gram’s red lips and Gene’s flushed cheeks. Maybe that’s his punishment for choosing Todd over them.

"I came to talk," he says, and drowns Gram’s sarcastic "he wants to talk but it’s not my business" with "I didn’t know Eugene would be here." A mistake.

"What, you can’t talk when I’m here ?"

"No." It’s the truth. Black’s a lousy liar, and he always tells her the truth. The problem is that he can’t voice the rest of it : that he wishes he could, that he’s never been good at it and that wanting only makes things worse. That he remembers exactly how soft her hair was under his palm, and that he may not know how Gram’s hair feel but he does know it smells of basil. That those two phantom sensations burn in his throat, not unlike teargas.

"I promised I’d get out of your life."

"So I should just let you two discuss me between men ?"

"That’s not –" starts Gram. Black shuts him down fast.

"You take it however you want. I have no right to tell you how to feel."

"You could explain, Black ! For once in your life, you could explain yourself !"

"No," he repeats, and pushes himself up. "I’ve taken enough of your time. I’m off."

"Wait !" Gram grabs him by the arm, then winces and lets go before Black can finish weighting the pros and cons of punching him in his fucking mouth. "Wait, please."

"Did you come on your bike ?" asks Gene. She’s eyeing the empty beer bottles. "You should spend the night here."

He doesn’t remind her that she is mad at him, or that this isn’t her room. "I’m not drunk." Maybe he would have been if White hadn’t teased him the other day. Eugene said you’re sooo gentle when you’re wasted. Perhaps he is. He couldn’t risk it.

"But you wouldn’t pass breath-testing. Sleep here, man. Eugene can take the bed and we can take the floor."

"Stop acting like you’re not dating her."

"It’s a one person bed."

"Right. You were absolutely planning to sleep on the floor tonight. That’s why you came in with your hands so far down her –"

"Enough." Anger is back in Gene’s tone. Good. He cannot stand one more second of sad concern. "We just want you to stay."

"Yeah, well," and he’s finally outside, in the corridor, in the clear. "We don’t always get what we want, do we ?"

He turns to look at them, both standing in the doorway, so close to each other like a proper couple, cheeks still a little flushed, lips still a little red. What a waste of an evening.

"See you later I guess," he says, and makes his way down the stairs.

[ace-maverick]

Silver Clouds with Grey Linings (Nozel Silva x Fuegoleon Vermillion)

Hi y'all! I've been rather inactive in the Black Clover fandom for the past couple of years. You may have known me under my other psueds including Cascade_Azure or Nymph_Nereid, but I am thrilled to present my WIP brainchild of a Nozel Silva x Fuegoleon Vermillion fanfiction. This fanfiction is cross-posted on both Wattpad & AO3 if you prefer to read on either of those sites instead. I personally prefer AO3 because of the filters and shit. Please feel free to leave a like and comment! I'll try to update as frequently as possible!

~Ace_Maverick

Summary:

"Do you ever take a break from your Magic Knight duties, Lord Silva?" Fuegoleon asked sarcastically.

"Do you ever take a break from being an insufferable ass, Lord Vermillion?" Nozel returned.

They had a penchant for this sort of banter, teetering on a will-they, won't-they, flirtatious but at the same time bitchy exchange about them. Their repartee was as familiar as it was exhausting, a well-worn dance of barbs that allowed them to blow off steam while maintaining the facade of decorum befitting their status. Fuegoleon's chuckle was low and brief, but it held a note of genuine amusement. "Your sharp tongue does little to mask the fact that you look like death warmed over, Nozel."

-

Their relationship was one of ambiguous romance where neither pushed for labels and 'I love yous' were never exchanged instead settling for the obscurity of blurred lines. They enjoyed late-night rendezvous and quiet company without the strings of definition, prying society, and the freedom of other partners.

-

or

Fuegoleon and Nozel have been in an ambiguous relationship for fifteen years. When Fuegoleon is incapcitated for six months after the assault on the Royal Capital by the Eye of the Midnight Sun and Nozel refuses to visit him, he recieves three chance encounters to convince him otherwise.

or

A character study on how two idiots define a fifteen-year, ambigious relationship.

Chapter 1: In Another's Arms

Nozel's head pounded violently as he tried to focus on the mountain of paperwork piled high on his desk. The line of ink he had scribbled on the parchment before him trailed off sloppily, and his vision blurred, then refocused every few minutes.

Solid and Nebra had been particularly irksome the night before. Solid kept pressing the issue of Noelle's squad placement, and Nebra did nothing to quell the argument. Solid had been persistently brash, delivering his opinion about Noelle's admittance to a Magic Knight Squad seven times over, even if it were the lowest-ranking squad. He parroted the same insults that had been spoon-fed to him his entire life — that Noelle's birth was an ill-intentioned mistake, how her magic was subpar, how her mere existence besmirched the Silva family name. Each hurled reiteration of a previous insult drove a metaphorical stake further into Nozel's guilt-ridden heart. He had conditioned his younger brother to respond this way. He had conditioned Nebra to watch as an unresponsive mediator, piping up every few minutes to voice her support of Solid's berating in a sharp-tongued and patronizing manner. He had been the catalyst and curator for their unbridled loathing and scorn of Noelle. He was responsible, and there was no one else to field the blame.

Following his mother's passing and Megicula's curse, he felt an overwhelming weight pressing down on him, a burden that threatened to suffocate him beneath its relentless grip. Nozel's temples throbbed with the memory of his mother's gentle smile, now forever lost to him, and the insidious presence of Megicula's curse coiled like a serpent around his soul, poisoning his every thought and action. The accusations hurled by Solid echoed in his mind, a cacophony of disdain and resentment, an animosity of his own making.

He had not taken too kindly — nor maturely — to Solid's words, bashing his face in when he could no longer endure his brother's slew of insults. The violence had been a release, a momentary escape from the turmoil churning within him. Nozel's knuckles throbbed from where they had collided with Solid's sneering grin. As the adrenaline faded, a subtle sense of remorse settled in his chest as he ushered Nebra to drag her idiotic younger brother to the infirmary, leaving him in his thoughts.

As he continued to brood over his decision, a firm rapping at the door disturbed his anxious thought process. His eyes darted to the analog clock in the corner of his office — quarter to five. Noting the lateness of the hour, Nozel grumbled a tired "enter," his eyes still lazily transfixed on the clock's second hand as it continued ticking away. Familiar, measured footsteps crossed the length of the office before plopping another sizable amount of paperwork onto his desk. Nozel's gaze shifted wearily to the imposing, fiery redhead before him, perking up a bit at his presence.

"These are the recent incident reports involving the Silver Eagles and fund requests to the Silva House accounts," Fuegoleon said, gesturing to the new pile of paperwork atop the Silva's desk. The perkiness Fuegoleon's presence had granted deflated from Nozel's body as he slumped further in his chair.

Fuegoleon took notice. "I thought you ought to be more ecstatic to see me," he commented jokingly.

Nozel spared him a disappointed glance, his eyes glossed over and bored. "And I thought I wouldn't need to deal with any more damn paperwork today," Nozel quipped back, a hint of agitation rising in his voice.

"Do you ever take a break from your Magic Knight duties, Lord Silva?" Fuegoleon asked sarcastically.

"Do you ever take a break from being an insufferable ass, Lord Vermillion?" Nozel returned.

They had a penchant for this sort of banter, teetering on a will-they, won't-they, flirtatious but at the same time bitchy exchange about them. Their repartee was as familiar as it was exhausting, a well-worn dance of barbs that allowed them to blow off steam while maintaining the facade of decorum befitting their status. Fuegoleon's chuckle was low and brief, but it held a note of genuine amusement. "Your sharp tongue does little to mask the fact that you look like death warmed over, Nozel. When was the last time you slept?"

Nozel bristled at the concern poorly veiled as mockery. "I manage my time as I see fit. A luxury afforded to those in command."

Fuegoleon's gaze softened, a hint of compassion breaking through his stern exterior. "You may manage your time, but you're not invincible. The weight of your responsibilities won't lessen if you drive yourself into an early grave."

As Nozel continued to rebuff Fuegoleon's concern with a steely demeanor, the fiery Magic Knight's expression softened even more, his gaze piercing through the layers of pride and duty. With a sigh, Fuegoleon circled the desk, crowding Nozel's space and cornering him in his chair. Nozel instinctively drew back, scrunching as far into the leather as he possibly could, hoping the material would absorb him. Fuegoleon had positioned himself mere inches from Nozel's face, stooping to his eye level, the sharpness of his nose and firmness of his lips defined in the shadows cast through the curtains.

Nozel's eyes flicked to Fuegoleon's lips briefly before redirecting his gaze to meet Fuegoleon's. The intensity of Fuegoleon's stare held Nozel captive, each word spoken with a weight that seemed to anchor Nozel's turbulent thoughts. Despite his instinct to recoil, Nozel found himself unable to look away, drawn in by the sincerity etched into Fuegoleon's features.

Nozel stood breathless for a moment as he continued to study the intensity of Fuegoleon's features, lost in the proximity of his commanding presence. His eyes traced the lines of Fuegoleon's face, lingering on the furrow of his brow and the firm set of his jaw, each detail a testament to the strength and resolve that radiated from him. Nozel's breath hitched as Fuegoleon's presence overwhelmed his senses, the blend of sandalwood, smoky cedar, and spicy cinnamon filling his nostrils and soothing his weary soul.

He was always like this, invading Nozel's space. When they played in the gardens as children and Fuegoleon braided morning glories into his bangs. When Acier first passed and Nozel refused to leave his bed chambers to attend her funeral procession, Fuegoleon had invaded his bedroom afterward, stealing his first kiss and holding him as he wailed like a newborn babe. When Fuegoleon gifted him a sextant after his grimoire ceremony and kissed him under the starlight. When Mereoleona made her hellish visits and forced them to spar, they escaped into the woods and invaded each other's space, making out nude in the lake. That was how Nozel received and gave his first handjob. When he first began courting and he was ushered to gentleman's clubs where the scantily-clad ladies couldn't convince him more of his gayness, Fuegoleon only further confirmed his sexuality by introducing him to gay bars where they would grind and press together in a sea of sweaty bodies, happily drunk and mirthfully smitten. When rumors circled of his prudishness and the new recruits assumed he was still a virgin into his early twenties, he sought out Fuegoleon to thoroughly dick him down. The hickeys littering his neck, collarbones, and sternum, and the scratches traced down his back as he sparred shirtless in the training yard the following day was evidence enough that he indeed was not a virgin. They didn't need to know it wasn't a woman he bedded that night, and he certainly didn't need to come out of the closet yet. And on quiet evenings when their captaincy nor families demanded their attention, they would hike to the peak of the Ultime Volcano Mountain Trail, soaking in the hot springs and bathing underneath a blanket of stars while they idly chatted and exchanged slow, languid kisses among other things. Fuegoleon was always invading Nozel's space, but he wasn't going to protest. Their relationship was one of ambiguous romance where neither pushed for labels and 'I love yous' were never exchanged instead settling for the obscurity of blurred lines. They enjoyed late-night rendezvous and quiet company without the strings of definition, prying society, and the freedom of other partners. Nozel ignored the fact that he had not indulged in another partner in several years. Fuegoleon was a constant in his life, a lodestone in the chaos.

Nozel blinked out of his dumbfounded clarity, clearing his throat and concentrating his gaze to meet Fuegoleon's. "Is there another purpose to your visit, aside from you harassing me about sleep?" Nozel remarked, placing a pointed finger on Fuegoleon's forehead to shoo him out of his space.

Fuegoleon took the hint, retreating in favor of leaning against the desk, arms crossed against his chest. "Now that you mention it..." he trailed off for a minute, thinking of an excuse to keep him in Nozel's company longer. "The Magic Knights Entrance Exam is two weeks away to the date.  I have heard whispers that you are planning to have Noelle placed under the Black Bulls. Is that not correct?"

"Fuegoleon..." Nozel releases a heavy, frustrated sigh, "Of all topics of conversation you suggest we discuss, why that one?"

Fuegoleon paused for a moment, his gaze steady on Nozel. "Because I know it weighs heavily on you, Nozel." Nozel rolled his eyes. "Nozel, you know how important this is. Noelle deserves a chance to prove herself, just like Leopold did."

Nozel's shoulders sagged slightly, the tension seeping out. "I would really rather not discuss my siblings right now," he muttered, trailing off for a moment, debating whether he should disclose his argument with Solid from the evening before or not. "Last night... last night, Solid was particularly vexing," Nozel continued, his voice strained. "He kept harping on about Noelle's squad placement. Insult after insult, all the same, venomous drivel he's always spewed. Nebra did nothing to stop him, just chimed in to support his tirades. I couldn't take it anymore. I snapped and punched him. Hard."

Fuegoleon's eyebrows rose slightly, but he remained silent, allowing Nozel to continue.

Nozel sighed, rubbing his temples. "I sent Nebra to drag him to the infirmary. It was a moment of weakness, Fuegoleon. I regret resorting to violence, but..."

Fuegoleon nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I suspected as much when I saw Solid on my way in. He looked like he'd been in a fight, a swollen jaw and black eye. I had my suspicions, but I wasn't expecting this."

Nozel's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You saw him? I would have expected him to be licking his wounds at House Silva."

"I don't believe he would say anything since his older brother is oh-so intimidating," Fuegoleon said with a smirk, teasing Nozel gently, punctuating his statement with a playful wink. "Besides, I've known you long enough to see when something's bothering you."

Nozel's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "You always were too perceptive for your own good."

Fuegoleon chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Comes with the territory of being a Magic Knight, I suppose. We're trained to notice the little details."

Fuegoleon's expression turned solemn, his eyes fixating on the back wall opposite Nozel's desk, wary that he would be beating a dead horse by broaching Noelle's maltreatment for the umpteenth time. Yet, he still admired the stubbornness of the man seated next to him.

"In all seriousness, Nozel, don't you think Noelle deserves more credit than House Silva affords her?" Fuegoleon began, his tone earnest. "You see her in the courtyard every day, training to improve her magic control. She may not have been born naturally gifted like you or Solid or Nebra. But don't you believe she deserves a modicum of respect? Don't you think you owe her—as her older brother—an explanation as to why she is overlooked and underestimated?"

Nozel felt the weight of Fuegoleon's words pressing down on him, each one a reminder of the unspoken truth he had long avoided. He wanted to argue, to deflect the conversation elsewhere, but the sincerity in Fuegoleon's eyes made it impossible to dismiss. Instead, he felt a knot of frustration and guilt tighten in his chest, a familiar yet unwelcome sensation that he had grown accustomed to over the years.

"Noelle... she's more resilient than she appears," Nozel began, quieter, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "I see her efforts, Fuegoleon. I see her trying, pushing herself beyond her limits. But it's... complicated."

"Complicated how?" Fuegoleon pressed, not willing to let Nozel off the hook so easily. "Is it because of the guilt you carry about what happened to your mother? Or is it because you're afraid?" he persisted.

Nozel's jaw clenched at Fuegoleon's indignation, a twinge of anger flaring within him. "I'd expect you'd understand Fuegoleon. Leopold is but a year Noelle's senior and a rather new recruit to the Magic Knights himself; yet Leopold's magic is much more refined and developed compared to hers," he deflected hoping to steer the argument away from his mother.

"Because I mentored Leopold," Fuegoleon began, his tone rising to match Nozel's. "Last time I checked, you refused to give Noelle the time of day. If it weren't for the scrutiny that House Silva would endure from Noelle taking the Magic Knights Entrance Exam, then you wouldn't have negotiated with Yami and Julius to place her in the Black Bulls in the first place!" Nozel's eyebrows raised. "Don't think that hasn't been a topic of conversation amongst the other captains," Fuegoleon spat, pointing an accusatory finger in Nozel's direction. "Leopold might be my brother, but I didn't cut corners for him to join the Crimson Lions. He enrolled and took the exam like every other candidate. Perhaps Noelle would have better prospects if you had taken the opportunity to mentor her!" Fuegoleon defended.

Nozel's temples pulsed with frustration, his composure faltering under the weight of Fuegoleon's relentless interrogation. "You act as though it's that simple, Fuegoleon!" he retorted, tinged with exasperation.

"And you act as if it's not!" Fuegoleon yelled, startling the Silva, wheeling his chair back slightly. A moment of definitive, charged silence engulfed the room as their argument reached its zenith. Nozel's heart pounded in his chest, his emotions teetering on the edge as he fought to maintain his composure. With tears beginning to prick the corner of his eyes, he swallowed the lump gathering in his throat and swiped at the beginnings of tears with his sleeves.

"If this is about Acier, Nozel," Fuegoleon started cautiously.

Nozel's breath caught in his throat at the mention of his mother's name,  swirling in a tempest of grief and guilt. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to steady his trembling voice before he spoke. "Don't you dare speak her name!" he spat, voice laced with pure venom.

"I will, though!" Fuegoleon persisted, firm and unyielding. "Because I remember," Fuegoleon continued,  softening momentarily with empathy before rising again with conviction, "how you wasted away for a year trying to find a cure for her. Because I saw how you reeled after her death. Because I remember holding you all night while you cried, sharing in your grief. Because I was your closest confidant for months and watched as you drowned in the shadow of the man you are today, your laughter replaced by silence, your warmth replaced by ice." Fuegoleon's voice grew colder, mirroring the chill that had enveloped Nozel's once-vibrant spirit. "How you hardened your heart to the world, to your family, to me. How you became more cruel, more calculated, more reserved to protect yourself. You believe your facade of stoicism to be so rock hard, but it isn't. It isn't, Nozel!" Fuegoleon's voice rang out with finality.

Nozel's grip tightened on the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white. Fuegoleon's words cut deep, slicing through the carefully constructed barriers around his heart. Memories flooded back with the intensity of a raging storm, threatening to engulf him entirely.

"I remember how patient Acier was indulging Mereoleona's endless requests for sparring matches," Fuegoleon said, his voice softening with nostalgia, a wistful smile briefly touching his lips. "I remember how she taught me to care for Leopold when he was a babe. I remember visiting House Silva and interrupting your afternoon teas with her. I remember her strong will, her patience, her kindness. And I remember the mourning that came with the passing of what I considered my second mother," Fuegoleon concluded, somber and reverent.

Fuegoleon's eyes bore into Nozel's, searching for a crack in his stoic facade, a sign that his words had reached the man beneath the armor of indifference. The room seemed to shrink around them, the ghosts of the past filling every corner. It seemed as though the silence would stretch on forever before Fuegoleon piped up, "I struggle to understand how you've managed to bury this all so deeply, Nozel. How you have turned so cold, so distant, projecting your scorn onto Noelle who never had the privilege of meeting her own mother."

Nozel's jaw clenched, his gaze unwavering as he absorbed Fuegoleon's words. "Because it isn't!" Nozel's voice cracked slightly, betraying the turmoil raging within him as he pushed himself out of his seat, meeting Fuegoleon a half-pace away. Nozel's eyes flashed with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, his stance a silent challenge to Fuegoleon.

Fuegoleon was taken aback momentarily, a flicker of sympathy crossing his features before he hardened his resolve once more. "Then, why? Why, Nozel?! We play this constant game of cat and mouse whenever we have this conversation. I chase you for a definitive answer and you dodge with excuses," Fuegoleon accused, his frustration palpable.

"Because I can't!" he exclaimed, exasperated, tears betraying him, trickling down his cheeks. "Because I can't," Nozel repeated, hushed, calmer, trembling. "I want to...but I can't," he managed to sputter out, wiping at the stray tears with his palms in embarrassment.

Fuegoleon's face flashed with concern reaching for Nozel's hand laying limp at his side. Nozel allowed him to grasp it, his fingers trembling slightly within Fuegoleon's gentle hold. For a moment, they simply stayed like that, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air between them.

Fuegoleon's grip on Nozel's hand tightened ever so slightly as if willing his strength to flow into the other man. Without a word, Fuegoleon pulled Nozel into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around him with a tenderness that belied his usual stern demeanor. Nozel stiffened at first, but then he melted into the embrace, his tears flowing freely now, soaking into Fuegoleon's shoulder. Nozel buried his face in the crook of Fuegoleon's neck, his body wracked with the force of his sobs. It was a catharsis of crying, a release long overdue.

Fuegoleon held him tighter, one hand gently cradling the back of Nozel's head, his touch tender and reassuring. He whispered soothing words, his breath warm against Nozel's ear. A symphony of apologies and assurances, each word a balm to Nozel's wounded heart. Slowly, Fuegoleon pulled back just enough to look into Nozel's tear-streaked face. He pressed a delicate kiss to Nozel's forehead, his lips lingering for a moment, imprinting on Nozel.

As Nozel's sobs subsided to whimpers, Fuegoleon leaned in to brush away the residual tears littering Nozel's cheeks. His thumb traced a delicate path over the milky skin, marveling at the graceful contours of Nozel's face, and the slender, willowy frame pressed against his own. Their eyes locked, a volume in the suspended silence, before Fuegoleon leaned in but a feather's length from Nozel's lips. "Can I kiss you?" Fuegoleon breathed.

"Please," Nozel's response was barely more than a breath, the words escaping his lips in a heartfelt plea laden with a yearning. His eyes drifted shut, surrendering as Fuegoleon closed the distance between them in an aching kiss. As Fuegoleon's lips met Nozel's, a shiver coursed through his being. Though the kiss lasted no more than fifteen seconds, time itself had paused to witness, leaving only the two of them to revel in this fleeting moment. Fuegoleon's touch was gentle and fervent, his hands shifting to firmly grasp Nozel's waist and cup his head, pulling him closer. With a soft sigh, he leaned into the kiss, savoring every sensation as Fuegoleon's lips moved against his own with urgency. As they parted, a soft sigh escaped Nozel's lips, his eyes fluttering open to meet Fuegoleon's gaze, breath mingling in the space between them.

"Thank you," Nozel managed, a soft murmur tinged with wonder and disbelief, his eyes glazed over in wanderlust. Fuegoleon chuckled at Nozel's dazed state, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he leaned in to peck him briefly once more, a light, teasing touch that sent a thrill through Nozel's spine.

"Fuegoleon, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—" Nozel whispered, barely audible over the lingering din of his mind.

"No," Fuegoleon interjected, gentle but firm. "I'm sorry, Nozel. I shouldn't have brought it up," he persisted.

A brief moment of silence passed. Nozel swallowed hard, gathering the courage to speak. "I want to tell you, but I can't—you see the curse, it—," Nozel's voice faltered, realizing his mistake too late.

Megicula's words rung clear as a death knell, menacing, inevitable, and binding.

"If you tell anyone that Megicula had a hand in Acier Silva's death you will die."

"If you talk about it, the one who heard you will also be struck with the curse"

"The spell will spread like a disease."

The devil's putrid laughter reverberated through his skull, a haunting reminder of the warning he had received years ago. A searing pain lanced through Nozel's body, an invisible chain of molten iron choking Nozel's throat. The vice grip sent his heart racing as he wheezed futilely for air. He gasped, clutching at his neck, eyes wide with terror.

"Nozel," Fuegoleon's expression shifted from concern to alarm as he reached out to steady Nozel, panic evident in his eyes as they darted searching Nozel's face.

Nozel collapsed forward, his body crumpling like a marionette with severed strings. "Nozel!" Fuegoleon exclaimed catching him just in time, his heart pounding with fear as he felt the weight of Nozel's body against his own. Nozel's skin was clammy with sweat, turning an ashen blue as he panted for air, the scorching burn of the chain branding itself into his throat's sensitive skin.

Nozel attempted Fuegoleon's name, only rasping breaths managing to escape his lips. Tears welled in Nozel's eyes as he fought against the relentless grip of the curse, Fuegoleon blurring into a crimson haze. Each gasp for air felt like a battle against an invisible force intent on suffocating him.  His chest burned with the desperate need for air, his lungs screaming for oxygen that refused to come.

"Nozel, stay with me!" Fuegoleon pleaded, raw and quivering. He gently cradled Nozel's head, his hands shaking as he reached for his grimoire.

But as the seconds ticked by, Nozel's strength waned, his body growing limp in Fuegoleon's arms. The vice grip around his throat tightened further, crushing his windpipe and cutting off his air supply. Nozel's breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort to draw in air. Panic surged through Fuegoleon's veins as he watched Nozel's struggles grow weaker.

A dark, twisting chain of magic materialized, snaking its way around Nozel, constricting his movements and burning his skin where it touched. The curse was manifesting, punishing him for attempting to break its silence. Nozel's vision blurred, the world dimming as the pain intensified.

His body went slack, the sound of his name fading into the darkness as everything went black.

Nozel floated, suspended in an abyss of darkness, adrift in a sea of shadows. His consciousness flickered like a dying flame, struggling to maintain its fragile grasp on reality. The oppressive silence was broken only by the malevolent voice of Megicula, reverberating through the void.

"Nozel Silva," the devil's voice echoed in the distance, dripping with malice. "Did you truly think you could defy my curse?"

Nozel tried to move, but his body felt weightless, unresponsive. His mind swirled with fear and confusion as he struggled to comprehend his surroundings. The darkness seemed to press in on him from all sides, suffocating and relentless. His attempts to speak stifled by an invisible force that gripped his throat like icy fingers.

"You should have known better," Megicula continued the amusement in her tone palpable, her voice closer in proximity. "My magic is absolute. There is no escape from it."

Images flashed before Nozel's eyes—memories of his mother's death, the pain and sorrow etched into his family's faces, the burden he had carried alone for so long. The guilt, the helplessness, all of it surged back, drowning him in a tidal wave of despair.

"Consider this a warning, Nozel Silva," Megicula hissed, breath tickling his ear. Nozel whipped his head around to confront the source of the voice, but all he saw was darkness, a formless void that seemed to mock his futile attempts to defy it.

A dim glow beckoned Nozel as he surged awake. The air around him crackled with energy, its warmth seeping into his bones. As he stirred, he became acutely aware of a soreness in his chest, a dull throb that pulsed with each labored breath. He presumed — if Fuegoleon was as smart as he claimed to be — from chest compressions.

His vision swam with tears of relief as the chains dissipated like wisps of smoke fading into the ether, granting him the freedom to move and the liberty to breathe. Blinking through the tears, he registered the faint scent of citrus and honey. Mimosa. Her healing magic bathed him in warm yellow light.

"Oh, thank God." The shrill, distinctive crack of Nebra's voice cut through the air.

The skin on his neck prickled and burned. He reached a trembling hand to touch the irritated flesh, only to have Fuegoleon swat it away. Raw, red, and inflamed, the cursed mark of Megicula choked his throat like a necklace, a tangible warning for daring to defy its curse, even if the offense was as simple as mentioning the word.

Nozel blinked, trying to focus on the faces before him. Fuegoleon was leaning over him, cradling him in his arms. His cheeks were stained with fresh, fat tears, an awkward, pacified smile grazing his lips. Nebra sat furthest away, her features tight with worry, her gaze flicking between Nozel's face and the cursed mark on his neck. Mimosa's eyes brimmed with tears, her hands hovering over him, golden light shimmering as she channeled her healing magic.

Nozel attempted to speak, his words coming out in hoarse, gravelly croaks. "Don't strain yourself," Fuegoleon chastised, his voice a soothing balm to Nozel's ears. They were still in his office. Nozel eyed his sister and cousin, questioning their presence. Fuegoleon took note. "I called Nebra for help, and she summoned Mimosa," he clarified briefly before scooping Nozel into his arms. Usually, he would protest, but his body was too fragile and his throat too damaged to manage.

Mimosa piped up in his stead, "Fuegoleon, he—"

"Mimosa, I extend my gratitude for what you have been able to do." He looked down at Nozel, growing weary in his arms. "But I think we can both acknowledge, Nozel is beyond our help." He grimaced, not intending for his words to sound as harsh as they did.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Mimosa deflate, releasing a defeated sigh and a ho-hum, "Okay."

He started towards the door, then paused for a moment, sparing Nebra and Mimosa a knowing glance over his shoulder. "I trust neither of you will breathe a word of this," he said, eyes narrowing.

Mimosa and Nebra shared a brief glance, nodding in agreement.

"Good," Fuegoleon said curtly, a heavy thud sounding as the door shut behind him.

[missywritesfor7]

🌙Moon’s Light | JJK🌙

Synopsis: Luna is a young paralegal trying to maintain her new found independence and enjoy life. Too bad her job sucks and her boss is the worst. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she encounters a vampire named Jungkook who changes her life in more ways than one.

Jungkook is a shield and protector of the vampire kingdom of Korealis. He’s trained his entire life to block out any and all distractions and focus solely on becoming the strongest. While investigating a potential threat to the kingdom, he encounters Luna who turns out to be more than he could have ever imagined. It becomes his job to protect her, but he can’t tell if what he’s feeling is his devotion to the job or perhaps something deeper.

Secrets are uncovered. Lives are on the line. Hearts are tested.

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Fem!OC

Warnings: Violence, character death, eventual smut, tragedy, some angst, strong language, MINORS DNI

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 22: Tease ||

Luna remained in bed a little longer until she felt she was ok to try standing. Jungkook helped her to the kitchen so she could eat something and properly introduce herself to his mom, Sunyoung, who insisted that it was ok for Luna to call her by name. Jungkook put together a plate of food for Luna and got her a drink as well. His mom mentioned how he’s never been so hospitable with anyone before. That turned into her and Luna teasing Jungkook.

Things were going well until Jungkook got a frantic call from Jin. The rest of the guys came back from looking into Park Hyungwon more. While they were feeling optimistic about the information they found, that quickly turned to worry when they walked into the sparring room and saw the mess that was left behind. No one knew where Jungkook and Luna were so they were worried something bad had happened. They’re glad they’re both ok, but are now worried that they may not be able to keep everything a secret much longer.

Jungkook’s dad spoke with the King who began questioning Jin about Luna and why she’s been around so much. Jin tried his best to not give too much information, but he wasn’t able to hide that Jungkook has taken a liking to Luna. The King doesn’t mind so long as it doesn’t interfere with work. The guys have all dated here and there and it’s never been a problem with the King. But Jungkook dating has always been a problem for Minseok.

Jungkook let Jin know that they’re at his mom’s house and will be for awhile. Jin allows him to remain with Luna for now, however he wants him present when they get ready to take down Park Hyungwon. Keeping Luna with Jungkook’s mom will allow him to fight with his brothers again instead of being left behind and feeling like he’s being punished.

Jungkook’s mom leaves the two of them to themselves while she goes out to run some errands. In the meantime Jungkook takes Luna to the backyard where he shows her the small swing set his mom never got rid of.

“You didn’t tell me this was here,” Luna says excitedly taking a seat on the swing. “Why does she still have this if you guys are much older now?”

“She said she wanted to keep it for her future grandchildren,” he chuckles standing behind her and pushing her lightly.

“Did you plan on giving her some?” She jokes.

“I can’t even date without it turning into a war,” he says sarcastically. “I haven’t even thought about kids.”

“What about your brother? Does he want kids?”

“No. That’s the crazy thing. If my dad gave a shit enough to see what we wanted he’d know that Junghyun doesn’t even want kids. He doesn’t want to start his own family or anything. He just wants to be left alone,” he laughs pushing Luna a little higher. “Hyung likes to do his own thing, kind of like me, but dad is always up his ass about starting a family the way he’s up mine about training.”

“But your brother is a shield too, right? Why doesn’t he have to train as much?”

“He does, but his training is geared more towards finding someone to start a family with. It’s the dumbest thing,” he scoffs. “My dad looks for someone suitable and sets them up on a date. It’s like something out of a drama. The best part though is that hyung is only taking advantage. Dad pays for everything and hyung gets a free night out, a free meal, and if he’s lucky he’ll get laid too. Then he’ll come back and say things didn’t work out.”

“Your brother is actually a genius,” Luna laughs. “Will I ever meet him?”

“Sure, if he’s ever around,” he shrugs.

“Why isn’t he around?”

“He moved in with Yoongi’s brother. He got fed up one day and said he didn’t want to live in the palace anymore with my dad constantly up his ass. My dad tried to stop him but in the end he couldn’t. He only finally accepted it because he’s staying with a Min not far from the palace. He still hates it though. I’m sure hyung messed with his mind a bit, but he won’t admit it.”

“Messed with his mind how?”

“Hyung can get into people’s heads and get them to agree to whatever he wants them to. He doesn’t do it much, and never admits when he does, but I’m sure that’s how he got away with moving out.”

“Wow, he can really get into people’s heads like that?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says slowing the swing. “It gives me an idea.” He leans down and wraps his arms around her.

“What kind of idea?” She slowly puts her hand on his.

“What do you think?” He smirks.

An image flashes in Luna’s head. The same image as before. The image of her moaning at each one of his thrusts inside her. The image that’s making her wet right now. Then she’s suddenly hit with the reality that they’re at his mom’s house, she’s still weak, and what does that have to do with anything they were talking about?

“Kookie!” She says hitting his hand. “We’re at your mom’s house!”

“What?” He asks twisting the swing to make her face him. “What are you thinking?”

“Oh,” she says remembering her visions are supposed to be a secret. “Um nothing. What were you thinking about?”

“The same thing you’re thinking about,” he teases.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” she lies breaking eye contact.

“Oh really?” He takes her hand again and gives her another glimpse into his mind. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

He lifts her chin forcing her to look at him. She doesn’t know what to say that won’t get her caught, but she knows she needs to tell him anyway. Before she can muster the courage to do so, he leans in and sears the heat of his lips against hers.

“Tell me what you see,” he whispers.

“Jungkook…”

“Did you see something good?”

“I…”

“Don’t lie to me, baby. I know you can’t stop thinking about me.” He takes her hand again and gives her another vision of their shared pleasure.

“Are you…”

“Showing you what you want to see?”

“Are you doing this on purpose?” She asks pulling her hand away.

“Just until you stop keeping secrets from me,” he says raising his brow.

“So you know?”

“Were you not going to tell me?”

“I was, I just…wasn’t sure how.”

“Easy,” he says pulling her to her feet and cupping her face in his hands. “You just say ‘I’ve been creeping on you like a sneaky little spy’ and that’s it.”

“Well that’s not exactly what I was doing.”

“Then what were you doing that you couldn’t tell me about from the start?”

“Nothing, I didn’t really know what was happening at first. I thought what I was seeing was just a dream, but then it kept happening.”

“When did it start?”

“When I was in my coma.”

“When you told me you only saw darkness?”

“Yes. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I was trying to make sense of it all first. You can’t hold it against me forever,” she pouts.

“Yes I can,” he smirks. “I feel like I have to get even now.” He taps the bite mark on her neck that’s still quite painful.

“Ow you fucking asshole!” She yells hitting him.

“You lie to me and I’m the asshole?”

“Yes.”

“Such a baby,” he laughs.

“Ugh! Fuck you!” She says hitting him again.

“You can’t hide your feelings from me, LuLu,” he chuckles holding her tightly with her arms pinned to her side.

“My feelings for you are just pure distaste,” she groans through her teeth trying to escape his hold.

“After everything we’ve been through together? That hurts, LuLu,” he says sarcastically.

He lets her go and takes a step back looking at her with a smirk. She tries hitting him again but she finds herself unable to move. It’s like she’s been put on ice, completely frozen and unsure of what’s wrong with her body.

“What the fuck? Why can’t I move?!” She shouts.

“You don’t have to yell,” he laughs. “You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

“What did you do to me??”

“Calm down,” he says getting an inch in front of her face. “You’re not the only one with secret abilities.”

“You sneaky little shit!”

“I’m a sneaky little shit? How many of my memories have you snuck your way into?”

“Ok ok I get it. I’m sorry. You got your revenge, now release me from whatever curse you put on me!” She yells trying to break herself free.

“Not until you tell me how much you’ve seen.”

She says nothing and continues struggling to make her body move with what little strength she has left. Jungkook watches her a moment before putting his arms back around her.

“Calm down, hot head,” he says. “You’re going to kill yourself if you blast off your power again. You’re still very fragile and weak.”

“I’m not a hot head, you’re just a dick!”

“Seriously, LuLu, why are you always so angry? Your power is incredible, but when you keep getting mad all the time it’s only going to keep hurting you. You need to meditate or something and get that shit under control. You’re like a ticking time bomb.”

“Just let me go,” she growls.

“You can start by saying please.”

“I will end you!”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he says releasing his hold on her. “I’ll let you go now because I don’t want you hurting yourself again.”

“I wouldnt be so angry if you’d stop provoking me,” she says hitting his chest.

“Stop being so easy to provoke. I mean it. I’m surprised you didn’t kill my dad the way you killed that goon before you fell into a coma. Every time you get mad like that you’re putting your life in danger.”

“Teach me how to control it then, mister master demon thing.”

“Get your strength first,” he says poking her shoulder. “Then I’ll show you how to be a civilized member of society.”

“How did I get stuck dealing with you?” She huffs grabbing his wrist to stop him from poking her. He gives her another glimpse of their steamy moment and she hits his chest again. “Stop that!”

“Tell me you don’t like it and I won’t do it again,” he smirks.

“You-I-grrr,” she stutters.

“Admit it,” he says picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. “You can’t get enough of me.”

“Shut up,” she huffs leaning in to give him a kiss. “I don’t like you at all.” She kisses him again.

“Is that why you can’t keep your lips off of me?” He smiles.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, bunny boy.”

She gives him another kiss lingering on his lips to keep him from making another smug comment, but also to savor the taste of his lips. She doesn’t know why she hates giving him the satisfaction of knowing she enjoys every little thing about him. Maybe it’s because he’ll never stop teasing her. Perhaps it’s so she won’t have to watch him puff out his chest and give her that shit eating grin when he knows he has her wrapped around his finger, no matter how much she tries to fight it.

She loves how tight he holds her. The way he’s effortlessly holding her around his waist while his hands grip her thighs makes her kiss him even harder. His tongue taking a tour of her mouth fills her with endless butterflies. She feels like she’s flying, though it’s only the feeling of him carrying her back into the house and laying her down on the bed. His body pressed against hers warms her like a thick blanket while his hands traveling all over her body gives her chills. The feeling of fire and ice sends a small moan through her throat that’s instantly swallowed by him as he continues the battle his tongue is having with hers.

Jungkook’s body is overwhelmed with the suffocating arousal he’s getting from her. She tastes so sweet, so intoxicating, and so fucking satisfying. He can’t help but grind his hips into her creating a dangerous friction that he can hardly stand any longer.

“Tokki!” The sound of Sunyoung’s voice comes ringing through the house as she returns from running her errands. Her return startles Luna and Jungkook sending him right into his bunny form.

“Really?” Luna whispers disappointed and slightly amused.

Jungkook looks up at her then runs out of the room to see what his mom wants. He nearly forgot where they were and cursed everything for their moment being interrupted. He only changed form to hide the tent he had forming in his pants. That’s not a conversation he wants to have with his mom. Not now or ever.

“What are you hiding for now?” His mom says as he greets her in the kitchen. “I need help with the groceries.”

Luna steps into the kitchen to see tiny furry Jungkook looking up at his mom. She figures the least she can do is help out however she can since his mom is nice enough to let her stay there.

“I’ll help you,” Luna says getting ready to step outside to the car to get the rest of the groceries.

Jungkook quickly transforms back and stops Luna in her tracks.

“No you won’t,” he says turning her by her shoulders and walking her to the couch in the living room. “I’ll get the groceries. You sit here and don’t do anything that’s going to take too much energy.”

“Dealing with you already takes too much energy,” she jokes.

“Then don’t do anything else,” he chuckles making his way outside.

Luna sits by as Jungkook helps his mom put the groceries away. She’s thankful his mom is nice enough to let her stay there when they’d never met before. That’s when it hit her. The night he left her after she woke up from her coma and Jungkook returned the next morning. She remembers the memory she saw when she was trying to get him to tell her how much time she had left to live. The woman in the memory was his mom. He was talking to his mom about her. She only saw the part where he was talking about her not having long to live, but she wonders what else he said to his mom about her. He was upset when he left that night so she wonders if he came here to vent his frustrations. However, his mom seems very warm and welcoming, more than she’d expect someone to be towards someone who upset her son.

Luna’s mind is swirling with possibilities. What does his mom know about her? Does she know that she was human up until a few days ago? Does she know about Jungkook’s feelings for her? His dad was enraged when he saw that she was a convert, would his mom be upset about it as well? She remains lost in thought until Jungkook joins her on the couch.

“Do you want bulgogi for dinner?” He asks happily.

“Yeah,” Luna says smiling back at his enthusiasm. “Sounds good.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks noticing the slight difference in her tone.

“Nothing. Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“You seem like you have something on your mind.”

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about how things got to this point. It’s just crazy I guess. It all happened so fast. I haven’t been able to fully process everything.”

“Are you having regrets?” He asks with a worried look.

“No. I mean there wasn’t much else I could do so I don’t regret anything. I’m just trying to adjust to this new reality and this new life.”

“Well you know you have me if you ever need anything.”

“Thanks,” she smiles holding his hand. “You’re a pain in the ass, but a sweet one.”

“What kind of compliment is that?” He laughs.

“One that will keep your ego from getting too big,” she jokes.

“My ego doesn’t get big,” he huffs.

“I told you not to lie in my house!” His mom shouts from the kitchen.

“Really mom?” He pouts.

“As I was saying,” Luna laughs.

“You say nothing else,” he says rolling his eyes.

“Aww did I upset baby Koo?” She teases squeezing his cheeks.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Very much so,” she laughs.

He pouts some more until his phone rings pulling him away from Luna’s teasing. He steps outside for a few minutes then returns with a worried look on his face. He first goes into the kitchen to talk to his mom, then returns to Luna in the living room.

“Looks like it’s just going to be you and mom for dinner tonight,” he says.

“Why? What happened?” Luna asks.

“Choi tried to escape.”

“What? Really??” Luna asks jumping to her feet.

“You have dinner and I’ll be back when we have everything under control.” He sits her back down on the couch and hits her with a hard kiss. “Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing,” he smiles giving her another quick kiss and turning to leave.

Of course she knows that he knows what he’s doing. Yet for some reason she still can’t seem to shake the worry. She only hopes that he comes back in one piece.