#she was very against it in the beginning it was a nightmare trying to get her to let me have them

[frotting-corporations]

the worst part of being on antidepressants is that i don't feel violently suicidal as often anymore, and also i don't feel much of anything. at least when i was off them i could feel things more strongly (i think. hard to remember), but now everything's flat and suffocatingly grey i can't stand it. <- stands it every day

[sugojosgf]

FACIN' TIME AGAIN !

﹒ shoko , fem!toji mention , fem!geto mention , fem!sukuna mention﹕☆ ﹟ fem · prns ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ cw : prisoner!au , fem!jjk , fīngering , dub con , manipulative behaviour , somṉophilia , cūnnilingūs , murder mention ! ﹐

🍨 series : part 1 , part 2 , more parts to be added .

shoko wants to be the first one to taste you. she scares you a little, but she also makes you cum so hard you see stars !

you open your eyes and it's dark. you can feel cement walls closing in, body hurting against the textured walls. there's a distinct lack of air, and you struggle to breathe. the scent of copper and bleach invades your senses. your heart beats so much faster and your mouth runs dry. there's an incessant throbbing in your head, almost making you feel a vein pop. you begin to choke, trying your best to cover your offending mouth with your hands. 

there’s a blinding light and all you see is white. despite your best efforts to speak, your tongue feels tied. you look down and see your blood covered hands. confused, you look up. you see yourself. someone stands behind you. once you blink away the blurriness from your eyes, you see the form clearly. ‘fushiguro’ you remember her saying. she grins at you, extending an arm forward to touch you.

“fuck!” you throw yourself awake. your heart pounds so fast, you can feel it in your throat. you are sweating profusely and tears dont stop running down your cheeks. you cover your mouth and try to regulate your breathing. you slowly get down your bunk and head over to the built-in basin to brush your teeth and splash some water on your face. 

“nightmare?” 

you jump instinctively, almost hitting your head. you see shoko on the bed, casually draping herself across the mattress. she doesn’t look like she has slept the entire night, dark circles decorating her undereyes. 

you nod in response, a grim smile painted on your face. “do you know what time it is, shoko ?” 

“i'd say around 4am.” she replies focused on her nails. “you didn’t sleep ?” you ask, worried for someone you met a measly few hours ago. 

“haven’t really in a very long time. that’s apparent, is it not ?” she points at the darkening eyebags. your mouth forms a little ‘o’ and the room becomes awkward. 

she smiles at your docility. she pats to the space near her. you walk slowly and sit down, a little anxious. 

“shoko, if you don’t mind me asking—” “what exactly did i do ? you are too curious for your own good.” she giggles. “if you want to know so bad, i want something in return.”

“in return ? i dont have anything…” you think, lips pursed together in confusion.

shoko gets on her knees and crowds you against the metal barriers of the bed. her slender hand cups your face, while she lets her other hand travel down your body. you begin to resist her, but she holds you in place. 

“if you don’t want this, alright. i won’t touch you.” she whispers in your ear and loosens the hold she has on you. she retreats back to her former position except this time she lays on her crossed arms behind her head. 

you swallow the lump in your throat. you look at her eyes widened, and heart beating even faster. her eyes don’t leave your trembling form. 

“but here’s the thing, when we leave this cell in a few hours, they will come for you. hah, i know fushiguro is thinking about you under her, right this fucking second.”

her words should terrify you and make you want to piss your pants but some sick perversion settles in your mind and heat pools in your stomach. 

“you seem mhm- sorry baby but you are a virgin, arent you ? god, they will eat you up like a fucking delicacy. if geto got her hands on you, you are done for, sweets.” she says faux sympathy dripping down her lips. 

“do you want to lose your first time in the canteen as everyone watches ? i don’t think so. you would want it to be gentle right ?” 

you let her describe the ways in which the inmates would take you. ‘vulnerable little thing’ she calls you, ‘easy to break’ with a motion of a twig snapping with her hands. 

“sh-shoko stop, i get it.” you mumble. 

“i dont think you do, baby, i just want you to go out knowing at least a little bit about what will happen to you.” she sighs, concern dancing in her eyes.

“...fine.” is all you say as you crawl to her and place the softest kiss on her chapped licks. her hand immediately grabs your hip to ground you. she holds as she returns the kiss.

her lips move softly against yours. your eyes are still open as you watch her kiss you wide eyed and unsure. your lashes flutter when she kneads your flesh making you gasp, allowing her to slip her tongue in your awaiting mouth. you are completely new to this feeling but you let her lead. her tongue dances a sinful number against your own. she stops to suck on your tongue, wet noises and squelching echoing through the cell. 

she tastes like cigarettes and something you can’t quite place, something very earthy. “that feel good ?” she asks, biting your lips. she doesnt wait for an answer as she begins to kiss the smooth skin that is left untouched on your neck. she can still smell the faint hints of your expensive perfume. 

she slips her thighs between yours. you let out a soft gasp as you feel her slot herself against you. her fingers undo the white buttons on your jumpsuit just so she can reach your hardening nipples. she uses her finger to circle your areola before pressing a sharp pinch to the flushed buds. you cry out, eyes fresh with tears from pleasure and pain. you feel her biting your skin before she noses at your very pulse point. she licks and blows on it, cooling your skin with her sticky spit. 

she pulls the both of you up, making you sit on her lap, your legs wrapped around her waist. her face now breathes in the scent of your tits, soft skin prickled with gooseflesh. she leaves you sticky and wet, not an inch of skin left uncovered. 

“fuck—” she whines as she tastes you. youve never felt anything like this before. you unconsciously grind yourself against her, crying for more.

“patience, pretty—,” she dips her hand down your underwear.  “i’ll make you cum alright, dont hurt your pretty head.”

"shoko, feels too good—” you pant out, bringing your lips to hers, licking and suckling. she can’t help but smile at how far your mind’s gone. your eyes are glassy and too far gone, the need to just orgasm rewriting your very code of conduct. 

she groans into your shoulder when her fingers dip into your wet heat. you are so wet, your very essence dripping down her fingers. she lets her fingers explore your cunt, while her thumb plays with your pretty clit.

her other hand covers your mouth as your moaning begins to grow louder. she knew she would have to share you in the near future but at least in the bubble of your first time, she wanted to gatekeep your sultry sounds.

“you like this dont you ?” she smirks into your skin, “of course you do, and that’s okay baby, i'll make you feel so good.” she lifts you to kneel on the bed, positioning her clothed cunt against your knee while she plays with your pretty pussy.

the noises begin to get obscenely loud but you can’t help but moan like you are in heat. you’ve never felt sensations like this before. all those nights you spent on your soft bed, trying to finger yourself didn’t feel half as good as you felt right now.

lost in pleasure, your body nearly vibrates. shoko groans whenever your knee pushes against her, bringing her closer to the edge every second.

her fingers curl into that deep spongy spot that you were never able to reach yourself and that action is enough to send your eyes rolling back. “shoooooo—,” you moan colourfully into her ears, “shokoooo-ooo, im so close, i can’ feel it.”

she shushes you, making out with you once again till you begin to drip drool down the sides of your mouth. “let go baby, im here.” she whispers into your ear. 

it doesnt take long for you to be pushed beyond. you cum around her fingers, your slick walls tightening against them. your body feels boneless and you are ready to drift off to sleep. shoko shakes as she reaches her orgasm too, shuddering against your body. it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep in her arms.

you come to your senses after a while, sound sleep restoring your energy. you feel cold though, exposed almost. you feel the softest of licks right on your clit and you immediately open your eyes.

“shoko ?” you call out to the woman in front of you. she’s too busy eating you out, lips sloshing making a symphony against the wet noises of your cunt.

“hm baby?” you whimper as she sucks on your clit, unable to voice your protests. she lets you grind against her face, painting her in a clear slick of your juices. it doesn’t take you long to orgasm this time, considering shoko had you under her tongue for a good while. 

you cry out, whining as she makes out with your cunt as you cum hard. you push her head away from the overstimulation as she cleans you up with her tongue. “enough—mhmm,” you stutter, “im s-sensitive—ah!” shoko gives you one last kiss on the hood of your clit and gets up. 

you watch her with blurry eyes as she brings a washcloth to clean you up, cold against your marked skin. you moan a noise of appreciation as she finishes her aftercare. she helps you into your jumpsuit before she holds you close in bed. 

“...i guess i can answer you now.” 

you turn to look at her. your eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. 

“what exactly did i do to get in here ?” a flicker of recognition sets in your eyes and you nod, awaiting her answer.

“i was working in the emergency room, and they rushed in with this bastard. he deserved to die. he really did. ‘medical malpractice’ my ass. i killed him, baby. watched him choke on his own spit as the drug did its job.” 

you watch her lips move in horror. you had slept with a murderer. you had let someone who took away the life of someone else crawl into the deepest parts of your existence and mark their arrival on its walls.

you could feel your body shake.

“wh-why did you kill him ?” you ask, chewing on your bitten lips courtesy of the woman right next to you.

“—i dont want to tell. story for another day.” she builds a barricade between the two of you. a strong invisible wall stands rooted and you know it will take you time to break it down. you decide not to push her even further, worried what she might do if you offended her. 

“you are scared, i can feel it.” she looks, a far-off look present in her hazel eyes. she looks almost a little hurt but before you can pin-point that emotion, her face breaks into a smile.

“the thing that has me confused though, is why you are in here.” she tucks a lock of hair behind your ear before she kisses you softly. she senses your confusion. 

“this prison in particular, is for high-risk inmates so who did you piss off in your hearing to land yourself in the same facility as sukuna ?"

tags : @shuuji71 @3zae-zae3 @l0v3m3-p13as3 @parisboo @byerno6

@mimimimilalalalalasstuff @missakward123 @tomiokasecretlover @maskedpacific @diorz

@herefor-tojis-tits @platinumtt @e-dollly @r3komuse

[copper-16]

I'm Sorry

Elena wakes up with a fever, and her need to wake her mothers up in the middle of the night brings up some worrying emotions.

(a/n: I was just speaking with a friend today about how her nieces loved to be cuddled when they were sick...and well one thing led to another and here we are! Hope you guys enjoy this :) I didn’t proofread it in the slightest…oh well!)

Elena was, historically, very very good about sleeping through the night. 

She had been ever since she was a baby, both of the women honestly a little shocked by how lucky they had gotten. 

“Are you sure she isn’t yours biologically?” Ingrid had joked when they were standing over her crib one morning, looking over at her wife with a teasing glint in her eyes. Mapi had rolled her eyes easily at that, scoffing slightly. 

“I don’t know what you ever could mean,” Mapi fired back quickly, though she shrank just slightly when the Norwegian fixed her with a pointed glare. 

“During our last away game, you slept through a fire alarm. An ENTIRE fire alarm,” Ingrid pointed out, and the Spaniard rolled her eyes, letting out a weak chuckle. 

“Man, you sleep through a fire alarm ONE time!” Mapi muttered, but she knows damn well she’s lost the argument. 

And it was true, because if there was one thing Mapi loved more than her family, it was her beauty sleep. A trait that she seemingly had passed to their daughter, who after a brief regression when she was one year old, generally slept well through the night. They kept a good bedtime routine that Elena was used to and was working well. 

She had never really gotten nightmares, or come into bed with the Barcelona defenders. Ingrid had always been pretty strict on no co-sleeping, apart from the occasional allowance, Elena knew that it wasn’t something to ask for. 

And normally, that wasn’t really a problem. Her mothers would put her to sleep, and then by the time she woke up when the sun was shining through her curtains, someone in the house would already be up. There was no deficit, no problem that needed solving for the little girl. 

That was, until she woke up one morning long before the sun had begun to stream in through her curtains. In fact, her entire room was dark, save for the little night light that was kept on the far side of her room. 

Elena shifted under the covers slightly, realizing just how poorly she felt. Her entire body felt icky, her skin clammy and pale as her baby hairs stuck to her face. 

The little girl pulled the covers up over her body, despite the fact that she herself was radiating heat, trying to will her body back to sleep. She wasn’t really sure if she should get out of bed. She knew she wasn’t really supposed to get out of bed, but she also knew that her Mami told her if she needed anything, she could always come to her. 

Elena knew it would make Mama upset though, so she tried to settle back in bed, burrowing under the covers and closing her eyes. 

But it seemed to be to no avail. Sweat beads drip down her forehead onto the pillow under her, and she shimmies as she tries to get more comfortable. Her entire body is radiating with a dull ache, and she feels tears beginning to well up in her eyes. 

Her resolution to be a good girl is overturned in favor of slipping out of bed, pushing her almost closed door open and making her way slowly toward her parents room. She leans against the wall slightly, suddenly feeling woozy for a moment before she regains her balance, continuing on her journey. 

Luckily, Mapi and Ingrid’s door is slightly ajar, and so Elena can push it open easily, surveying the scene in front of her. Her Mama is closest to her, but she also knows that Mama is going to be upset that she is awake right now, so the toddler quickly chooses to make her way around the bed to her Mami’s side. 

Mapi is turned toward the middle of the bed, her back to Elena, who reaches forward to very lightly tap on her Mami’s back. When Mapi doesn’t respond, Elena tries a little harder, but she’s rapidly feeling worse and worse, and her inability to wake her Mami up only adds to her stress. 

Tears are dripping down her cheeks now, and she’s caught both with the intensity of how poorly she feels and the fear of realizing that she needs to wake her Mama up. She once heard her Mama speak about how hard it was to wake Mami up when she was sleeping, and now seemed to be no different. 

It’s with a nervous air to her movements that the little girl walks back around to the other side of the bed, coming to stand by Ingrid’s side. Unlike her wife, the dark haired woman is lying facing the edge of the bed, so Elena can see her face. 

The little girl reaches up hesitantly, tapping Ingrid’s hand, which is placed out in front of her. Tears are still trickling down her cheeks, and her head pounds painfully. 

“Mama?” Elena tries instead, tapping slightly more furiously. “Mama!” The little girl says more sharply, and it’s this which wakes Ingrid, who is up in two seconds flat at the sound of her daughter finally penetrating her through her sleep. 

“Elena?” Ingrid asks, still confused and sleep ridden, noting quickly that it’s nearly four in the morning. When she looks back at her daughter as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she finally notices the tears and distress of her daughter, and she’s hardly even thinking before she’s scooping the little girl up. 

“Mama I’m so sorry,” Elena wails quietly, and Ingrid’s heart plummets when she feels how warm her daughter is. “I-I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m sorry!” The curly haired girl insists, and Ingrid is quick to shush her gently, pulling Elena into her easily. 

“No, no, my little love there is nothing to be sorry about, you can always come get me if you need me,” Ingrid promised, her heart cracking at the fact that her daughter was apologizing for needing her. She kicks herself for not making it clearer to the little girl, but resolves to focus on the situation at hand for right now, and do better in the future. 

“I don’t feel good,” Elena admits quietly, pressing further into Ingrid and relishing in the way her Mama’s arms tightened around her. She still didn’t feel good, but she felt better here, with her mother. 

“I–I tried to wake Mami up, but she didn’t move,” the little girl continued, and Ingrid barely managed to repress the annoyed noise that bubbled up in her throat. 

“María!” Ingrid hissed, lashing out with her foot and kicking her wife in a vague attempt to wake her up without letting go of their daughter. 

Luckily, the center back jerked awake at the feeling, looking around wildly. 

“What! What is it?” Mapi sputtered, her hair tousled by sleep. She clocks the fact that Elena is in Ingrid’s arms with the swiftness only a mother could have, and her eyebrows are furrowing instantly. 

“She’s sick, I think she has a fever. Can you get the thermometer and some medicine?” Ingrid asked gently, keeping her voice low for Elena. The Norwegian feels a little more grounded knowing that her wife is awake, the Spaniard quickly slipping out of bed as Ingrid rocked Elena back and forth. 

She begins to hum softly, rubbing over Elena’s back soothingly as their daughters eyes flutter closed, and she let out a small huff of air. There’s a crease in her forehead, and she’s clearly still in pain, but she’s no longer squirming in Ingrid’s arms which is good. 

“‘M sorry Mama,” Elena tries again quietly, and Ingrid pauses her movements to lean her daughter back, running her hands over Elena’s forehead gently. 

“Jenta mi, you can always come get me if you need me, you do not have to say sorry, ever. Mama always wants you to come get her if something is wrong, okay?” Ingrid implored, her voice just a hair desperate. She had never felt worse about her parenting in her entire life, she was pretty sure. 

But Elena’s face seemed to soften at her words, and she nodded very gently. 

“Love you Mama,” she rasped, coughing gently. Ingrid pulled the little girl back into her, cradling her in her arms before she leaned down to press gentle kisses to her daughter's forehead. 

“I love you so much Elena,” Ingrid insisted as she pressed another kiss to her daughter's forehead. She couldn’t help but cringe at how warm she was, and it was clear even without the thermometer that the toddler had a fever. 

But luckily, it was as she was finishing her sentence that Mapi came back into the room, a whole host of things balanced in her arms. She leaves Ingrid with the medicine, taking the washcloth she got into the bathroom to run it under some cool water. 

The Norwegian turned on the bedside table lamp so that she can get the correct dosage of medication, before sitting Elena up to take it. The little girl throws a face at the taste, and Mapi swoops in with a little bit of juice she had brought with her from the kitchen, having expected that reaction. The brunette pressed the cool wash cloth against Elena’s forehead, letting out a small breath of relief at the way her daughter seemed to lean into the feeling, her body releasing some of the tension that it was holding. 

“Please don’t–don’t wanna go back to–please,” Elena whined with no real annunciation, and Mapi’s brows furrowed with confusion while Ingrid was quick to quiet her daughter, rushing to assuage her fears. 

“Don’t worry, you aren’t going back to your bed. You will stay here with me and Mami in our bed, okay?” Ingrid promised fervently, and Mapi watched as Elena’s entire body relaxed, melting into Ingrids as she nodded, whining softly. 

Mapi removed the washcloth that had grown warm, settling back in bed as she offered to Ingrid that she could take their daughter, if the Norwegian needed her to. But Ingrid shook her head very tightly, clutching Elena as though Mapi was going to take her away from her. 

The Spaniard backed off immediately, instead helping Ingrid lay back down with the little girl curled into her, the defender turning on her side, using her arm to keep Elena pulled into her body. The toddler cuddled into her mother easily, shifting uncomfortably every few minutes. 

It took several minutes of Ingrid rubbing her hand up and down Elena’s back soothingly for the little girl to drift back off to sleep, her breath coming in hot puffs against Ingrid’s collarbone. 

Mapi’s brow was knitted in concern, her voice low as she spoke. 

“What happened?” She inquired, hoping to be filled in on what was going on. Ingrid shook her head very gently, making sure not to jostle their daughter. 

“She came in a few minutes ago. She tried to wake you up but you didn’t wake up, so she woke me up instead,” Ingrid explained, and Mapi blanched, a guilty look blooming on her face. 

“Shit, I really need to work on that,” Mapi scolded herself, but Ingrid once again shook her head. 

“María, you can’t control how heavy of a sleeper you are,” the dark haired woman reasoned, and the center back relents slightly despite the fact that she still hated this part of herself. 

“What happened then?” She asked instead, knowing that there was more to the story. Ingrid’s face fell just slightly, confirming the brunette’s suspicions. 

The dark haired woman holds their daughter tighter to herself, leaning down to kiss the top of her head lightly. When she speaks, there is clear emotion in her words. 

“She felt bad about waking me up. She thought I was going to be mad at her, and kept apologizing. I didn’t realize I made her feel like she couldn’t come to me,” the defender admitted with a small voice, and Mapi softens in sympathy as she reaches forward to place her hand on Ingrid’s chin, tilting her head up so that the Norwegian is looking at her. 

“Hey, she still came to you when she needed you, because she knows that at the end of the day you love her more than you could ever be mad at her,” Mapi murmured soothingly, and Ingrid nodded as she tried to take in her wifes words. “It was never your intention to make her feel this way, and now that you know you can work to change it moving forward. We’re all just doing the best we can with this parenting thing, and clearly she still adores you regardless,” the center back emphasized, gesturing to the way their daughter was currently clinging to her wife. Ingrid’s face relaxes at that sentiment as she cuddles into Elena. She’s struggling to keep her eyes open any longer, sleep beginning to pull at her once more, even as she fights it. 

“Sleep, mi amor,” Mapi urged, and Ingrid nodded gently as allows her body to relax, pulled back into sleep as her daughter rested against her. 

—

When Ingrid woke up the next morning, the bed was entirely empty, devoid of both her wife and daughter. 

The Norwegian had never been out of bed so quickly, half walking and half running toward the kitchen. She entirely speeds past where Elena and Mapi are on the couch, until she hears a little, slightly subdued giggle from behind her. 

She turns back to see Elena laying on top of Mapi, the two of them laid out on the couch together. 

“Mama, why are you running?” Mapi teased in an overly conspiratory voice, and their daughter’s laughter at her words turned into coughing before she managed to recover, despite the anxious look of her two parents. 

“Yeah Mama!” She tries to say, but it’s slightly breathless and wheezy. Ingrid walks over to the two of them, crouching down and feeling Elena’s forehead. Warmer than it should be but not as bad as it had been last night. 

“She just had more medicine about thirty minutes ago when she woke up,” Mapi explained, and Elena perks up slightly. 

“Mami woke up when I did!” Elena says softly, and Ingrid looks up to find that her wife is looking overly proud of herself, if the large smile spread across her face is any indication. 

Ingrid fights the urge to laugh at the sight, choosing instead to lean forward and kiss Elena’s cheek softly. 

“Maybe a warm bath would help?” The defender postulates, and Mapi nods before passing their daughter over to her wife. Elena is like a ragdoll in Ingrid’s arms, laying against her mothers shoulder as she’s led back into the bathroom. 

The bath is short, but the warm water does seem to bring some relief to the little girl, who remains quiet and reserved even as she’s pulled out of the tub, Ingrid beginning to dry her off. 

“Mama?” Elena asks softly, her voice small. 

“Yes my love?” Ingrid responds instantly, helping her daughter into some lightweight pajamas. When she’s finished dressing her, she notices the downcast expression her daughter is wearing, and her brows are instantly furrowing in ferocious concern. 

“Is everything okay? What is it honey - you can tell Mama, I promise I won’t be mad,” Ingrid assures, her words gentle and soft. Elena looked up at her through her eyelashes, a slightly crinkle in her forehead. 

“Can we cuddle more in your bed? I’m tired,” Elena admitted softly, and Ingrid is quick to swoop her daughter into her arms, carrying her right toward the bed. 

“We absolutely can. We can do whatever you want to do today - anything!” Ingrid promised, her voice low but filled with truth. The little girl thinks for a moment before shaking her head, looking toward the bed. 

“Just want to cuddle with you. Can Mami come too?” Elena asked hopefully, and the defender nodded quickly, reaching for her phone as she sat down in bed, shooting Mapi a quick text. 

It still amazed her sometimes, what it felt like to love this little human being so much. To know that she could have anything, but all she wanted was Ingrid and Mapi when she didn’t feel well. It was a different kind of love, genuinely. 

“Absolutely love. Mami is on her way, come on let's get you all snuggly,” Ingrid promised, laying down and bringing Elena to lay on top of her. The little girl laid her head sideways on Ingrid’s sternum, held in place securely by the Norwegian’s hands on her back holding her firmly in place. 

Her whole world in that moment was her Mama, and she felt endlessly safe and protected. She still didn’t feel well, but nothing seemed quite as bad when Mama held her like this, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. 

“I heard we were having a cuddle puddle!” Mapi whispered rather loudly as she entered the room, Bagheera in her arms as she came around to the other side of the bed. 

“Mami!” Elena breathed out, her voice tired but excited still, and she was reaching for Mapi instantly. The Spaniard set their cat at the end of the bed to curl up as she slid next to her wife and daughter, reaching out to engulf Elena’s little hand in her own. 

Elena relaxed fully only once both of her mothers were pressed against one another, and she could open her eyes and see them both. 

“We love you Elena,” Ingrid murmured softly, and the little girl smiled softly as she cuddled into her Mama, letting out a soft, content sigh. 

“Sleep, mi sol,” Mapi urged, smiling gently up at her wife as their daughter finally relaxed fully into her, safe and asleep in her mothers arms. 

[darkdevasofdestruction]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵 𝓝°5 ~ 𝓗𝓾𝓼𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Oh, to be young and in love, in the most romantic era of the notorious 1950s, with one very magical man who never fail to make you swoon with every suave look who offers.

It isn't very often that Husker reminisces his past life - He knows, if he does, he will remember all of the good times, when his heart was gold and trembling with pure emotion - After all, if he recalls the time he was alive, and very much in love, his frozen heart will just shatter to dust once again, with the same infinite anguish he felt once everything was ripped away from his grasp.

A pain so intolerable, that runs so deep - A pain that no amount of alcohol can mend.

He never truly knows whether he wants to remain asleep forever, so that he will never have to face reality again, or if that would be a nightmare, tormenting him for the remaining abyss of eternity...

Or, perhaps he should stay awake, so that memories will stop toppling him over, beginning with a most beautiful reverie, yet always ending with the same night terror he must face every time.

If this is his way of paying for his irredeemable sins, then he is well aware he deserves it, and even more - Yet every smell reminds him of that sweet Chanel N°5 that she used to wear. Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of the gracious dances he would share with her. Every song he hears, he recalls that angelic voice of hers, and every time he lays abed and stares up at the ceiling, her seraphic visage flashes before him.

"You are drinking again." Angel slumped in one of the stools by the bar, noticing his best friend looking in a far worse state than usual. "Rough day?"

"Rough life." Husk rasped, chugging down a whole bottle of strong spirits.

"Wanna talk about it?" he tried, in vain, to appear sympathetic - The feline demon was far too gone into his own darkness to even think about slurring away his never-ending sorrows.

"I wanna die, that's what I want." he growled, slamming away the bottle into the nearest wall. "Just like this fucking bottle. That's what I fuckin' wanna do - I wanna die, damn it!"

Angel's eyes widened greatly - Yes, life in hell surely was crazy, and especially for demons like the two of them, who sold their souls away because of their own failures, both in life, and now, in hell - But what in the world could it have caused him to get so hopeless that he was unable to fight back the tears glistening in those tortured eyes?

Even someone like him couldn't dare to make light of the situation, or try and crack a joke, let alone taunt or flirt with him. He felt... Pity, for the poor bartender who always listens to others' woes, yet dares naught speak out his own problems.

"Listen... Husk, ergh... I'm not the best at comforting, okay? But... If I can help, you can tell me... And, if not, then... I'll still be here. And maybe try to keep the others away from you. How's that?" Husk didn't quite seem to compute what his friend said, though he robotically nodded his head, as if remote controlled.

Angel remained in that stool for a few hours, watching the winged demon drink bottle after bottle after bottle, yet his sorrows only washed over him tenfold with each shattered glass against a different wall. He wonders what is going through Husk's mind, what he's ruining himself over with each sigh o grip on his fur.

Who would have thought that, of all things possible, Husker's greatest lament was...

"I fucking hate red. Why the fuck are my wings red? Of all the fucking colours in hell, they just had to be red, yeah?" he stammered angrily, pulling at his feathers. "Y'know what? They can't change colour. Tried dyeing 'em, but nothin'. Got so much fuckin' red on me - I wonder if it's Hell's way of punishin' me forever for my fucking sins."

He hates red...? What an odd statement - He truly seems to have a personal vendetta against that colour - But why? It's just a colour, after all, it can do no wrong. "Why... Do you hate red so much...? Angeldust dared to ask.

At first, he was met with a low growl, hostile, yet inoffensive at its core. Then, he heard a most disturbing answer. "That was the colour of my wife's dress when I last went home." Angel's brain shut down completely. To think someone was trusting him with such a vulnerable piece of himself, the very core of their hopelessness, their weakness; In a way, he felt flattered that Husk trusted him so much, yet in another way... He couldn't help but feel borderless pity for his friend. He wishes such a fate to no one... Well, maybe to Valentino.

Angel forced himself to smile softly, placing his hand gingerly over his own, taking away the alcohol from his hand. "What was her name?" Husk looked up with shock, a little startled, right into his dual coloured eyes - He hasn't ever spoken her name out loud, it almost felt like a blasphemy against her purity. Yet... Maybe... "Y/N." he dared whisper.

"Y/N." Angel repeated after him. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady." Husk nodded his head.

"She was a Princess." he muttered, his sight blurry with tears.

"A Princess? Really? Nobility and all that?" much to his surprise, Husker chuckled.

"Nah, not quite." he rasped. "At heart, she was. Her family was very rich, so she was pampered up. Huge manor, servants, a personal maid, luxury brands, jewellery and perfumes, indulging in any studies and hobbies she liked..."

"How'd you two meet? I don't suppose you were a Prince or something, were you?" Angel tried to joke friendly, encouraging his friend to open up.

"Ha. Far from it." in his hand, a few dices appeared, and he idly played around with them. "I was an ugly dead beat from a working class broken family. Hardly worthy of her attention." he gritted his teeth bitterly. "Got around to finding work at a young age - Gambling, magic, sax player - If I had money to live, anything worked."

"Did you meet at one of your gigs?" Husk nodded his head affirmatively.

"No clue what she saw in me, Angel. She could do so much better." for a split second, he had a dry smirk on his face, before it disappeared again. "I asked her once, what the hell did she see in me - And she said... I played her favourite song. Silly, innit?"

He didn't receive a mocking laugh, much to his surprise - Instead, Angel cooed. He never imagined the jaded demon before him could be so romantic! "What did you play?" Instead of answering, Husk turned around to his bar, and took out another bottle, yet this time, he hummed a familiar tune as he was doing his bartending for two glasses. "Oh, now I get it - You always hum that song when no one's around! I thought you were just bored out of your mind." he let out an amused exhale. "Fly me to the moon... Refined tastes, alright."

"The stars in the sky never sparkles as brightly as those in her eyes when she looked at me." no wonder he never accepted any flirting from anyone - How could anyone match the love he had for Y/N? "If I were a decent man, I'd have told her not to waste her precious time and love on me. Instead, I was a selfish fuck. I stole years of her life... And in the end, I even stole her life. All because I wasn't even half the fucking man I pretended to be."

The conversation soon turned significantly sour. "I was the man - I was supposed to provide for her. Afford all that fucking expensive Chanel N°5, and the Dior dresses, the Chantelle lingerie, and the damn Cartier and Tiffany's jewellery." even someone more modern like Angel knew all those luxury brands, and was even more impressed and shocked that they could so easily afford such high-end items. "I brought her flowers every day and I took her out on brunches every morning, on dates every afternoon, and to soirees every fucking evening. She loved dancing at parties... But I suppose she preferred the moonlight over the chandeliers."

"You must have overworked yourself a bunch to afford all these things. I'm sure she appreciated it." Angel tried to comfort him, earning a nod of agreement.

"She told me she didn't need any gift, except for my presence. Genuine woman, that one. But how could I, in good conscience, go to her parents and ask for her hand in marriage, when I couldn't even afford a half-decent house with a room for each of her hobbies, a drawer for each month outfit, another for her shoes and three more for her bags, jewels and perfumes; and a large flower garden and a fucking rose gazebo and a swan pond with ten different breeds of pedigree dogs." Angel cringed a little, realising the tremendous gap between their living conditions. "I lost myself on the way to greatness. She was making me so euphoric that I just wanted to see her excited every moment of her life. I didn't need to eat or drink, I just needed to see her smile, and I could work again a few more days without rest."

"But then... You collapsed from overworking?" Husker shook his head.

"Worse. I fooled her parents completely, and we planned our wedding." he replied bitterly.

"How is that a bad thing? Isn't the wedding day the happiest day in a couple's life?" Husk sighed, from the deepest part of his soul.

"It was." he said. "I got greedy. I went to loan sharks, took a shit ton of money to make that wedding the most grand event the country saw in a while. Then went on a month-old honey moon around the world." he cursed in a few different languages that Angel couldn't understand, but was sure were some highly offensive and crude words that he would never utter around Y/N. "I don't need to say more, do I?"

Yeah, he needn't continue speaking the descent into madness, alright. Angeldust didn't want to hear that his friend's love story ended up in his soulmate getting murderer by the loan sharks, only for him to end up killing them, and then himself, out of pure rage and sorrow. He didn't want to hear that an innocent woman like Y/N never knew that her husband was broke and took loans, just to try and mimic the lavish lifestyle she grew up with and deserved. He didn't want to hear the broken shriek of anguish, or the streaming river of tears that befell as Husker saw her dead, on the floor, her pearly pink dress dyed a deep crimson from her own blood, and getting even more stained with each strong embrace he held around her shattered body, just like a precious porcelain doll fallen off the shelf.

They only just recently became something akin to 'best friends' from both sides... Yet Angel couldn't bare to hear the tragic end of the story, and he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he felt, having to live his afterlife as a Sinner, for as long as he has, without the woman he loves by his side.

"It's better this way, I guess. At least she finally got rid of me. Wherever she is, she must be living far better, than with a lying fuck like me who couldn't keep it together." the spider demon frowned, watching his friend slump on the bar counter.

"I don't think that's the case." he spoke vehemently. "I don't believe there is any person, of any kind, treasuring her as much as you did." Husk's ears perked up immediately, twitching lightly. "At least on an emotional way, I'd say, you and Y/N were lucky. There's so many people who never experience the love you had, let alone get to meet and marry their soulmate."

"What the fuck would you know?!" he growled, throwing a bottle at his head, only for the demon to dodge.

"... I wish I had fallen in love too, you know?" Husk gritted his teeth, realising the sensitive wound that he unwillingly stabbed open - But it wasn't his foult - He is hurt! He is in pain! "As a human, as a demon... I was like you, sort of. I was so shit at managing my life, that I ended up falling prey to my vices... I needed more and more, and I couldn't resist. I had no ration or logic. I gave in to my so-called 'friend group' and got addicted to drugs... Couldn't get rid of that addiction even after death... And I clinged on the only demon who could give me what I wanted... And now, I can't escape Val, even if I wanted to turn my life around and live the life that I never could." Angel had a wry smile on his face. "Do you really think a drug addict or the most famous porn star of hell would be able to meet his soulmate, without destroying their life in the process also?"

The two remained silent, only hanging their head and sighing. No matter how happy life can be for some... It will never have a chance of turning around for them. It just couldn't be. They are in hell, after all. Even Charlie won't be able to save them and bring them on the path of redemption, no matter how insanely enthusiastic and cheerful she can be... They were still sure to drown.

Somehow, this few hours of vulnerability brought Husk and Angel closer, and although they won't be speaking about it again, it was clear to the residents of the Hazbin Hotel that the two were as close as two demons can get, without the inclusion of vice or extortion.

Things were going well enough for them, even with the new addition of Sir Pentious, the villain turned... Something? It was still not too bad around the hotel. Though unsure of whatever Charlie's plan was, to fight against the purge from the Angels, they were still there to sort-of support whatever dream the Princess of the Pride Circle has.

That is, until the Hotel opened its doors to a brand new resident, a gorgeous demoness dressed elegantly in a dress of pearly pink, adorned with high quality jewellery, and with her long hair done stylishly, and smelling like a fresh day of Spring. She walked in guided by the Radio Demon, of all people, and she was smiling so demurely, completely unafraid of the fiend next to her, yet still reserved and soft.

"No way, is that Chanel N°5?! How'd you get it in here?!" Angel squealed, fangirling over the flowery perfume - But then, it clicked for him. Didn't Husker mention his wife loving this scent the most?

"Oh, you noticed! I am so happy that there are more sensible people - Erh - Demons with refined tastes!" the girl unfolded her laced fan and giggled behind it demurely.

Although she looked even more regal than even the Princess of Hell herself, as they stood next to each other, there was one particular detail that made the new-comer stand out from any other netizen.

With her hands clasped together over her chest, a bright white gold ring, with a most brilliant zircon was shining brighter than even the moon herself.

Whilst the other demons gathered around the seraphic beauty, wanting to have her attention, and even going as far as to have Alastor speak out about this new lady, Husker's breath stopped completely; His brain was going into overdrive, and his heart, he wanted to rip out of his chest.

That ring... That ring, he knew all to well - After all, he bought it himself, when he proposed to Y/N. That voice, the fashion, the mannerism... Even with altered looks, she looked the same. Even in hell, she looked the same. Even with demonic eyes, she looked the same.

She was the most beautiful woman in the universe.

"Y/N, this is Husker, our bartender." Charlie's face was split open by her overly-cheerful grin. "Husk, won't you introduce yourself to Y/N?"

"I'm not a fucking child. I don't need to introduce myself." the man hissed aggressively. "This is fucking stupid, I'm out." without even realising, he shattered the glass in his grasp, before stomping away into his room.

How could that be? Was this a nightmare? Surely, this must be some impersonator demon or something - There's no way an innocent being like Y/N could possibly have ended up in Hell, with a bunch of Sinners, of all thing. Was this his fault also? Did he bring her down with him to hell? Was he never going to be forgiven for all of the shit he's done in his previous life? Did Alastor bring her to the Hotel, so that he could blackmail him even more? Was his empty soul worth so little, in the end?

He was so afraid - Will Y/N be angry once she realises who he is? He couldn't blame her, obviously, he's earned her scorn... Yet why is his heart hurting so bad? He wishes so badly to jump on her and wrap her in his arms and wrings, and never again let her go. Ah, but he looks like a stupid flying cat... He looks ridiculous. There's no way...

...

Perhaps... She should stay with Al...

He has the influence, the money, the fashion sense, the looks, the freedom and privilege, the elegance...

Alastor has everything, and embodies everything that he could never be.

In life, he was selfish, and he didn't let go of her. Perhaps, the only way to apologise and make up for his sins was to let her be cherished by a man capable of doing what he never could.

As he lay awake on the bed, curled up and cursing his whole existence, wanting to sob until his body was all dried up and shriek until his throat was bleeding raw; he wanted to claw his face to velvety ribbons and drown his lungs with all of his blood... As he was succumbing to his self-hatred and spiraling down into the depths of despair, Y/N decided to end the day with some delicious pastries and an aromatic cup of tea in the garden, with her friend, Alastor.

Y/N was idly playing with her ring, looking at the inscription inside of it. 'Y/N ♡ Husker'. How absolutely adorable, she thought, a beautiful smile gracing her features. "He looks... Different. Are you sure it is the same person, Alastor?" her voice showed nervousness.

"Y/N, Y/N, would I lie to you?" he grinned, as always, sipping from his tea. "You should hear him purr. He truly resembles a little kitten."

Y/N looked up into he friend's eyes, a look of intense surprise and borderline intrigue taking over. "Are you being truthful? He... Purrs?" she gasped, quickly slipping her ring back on her finger.

"Yes, my darling. Unconsciously, someone strokes his fur, he gets so very adorable~." Alastor hums, watching the lady before him being so romantically melancholic over a life long gone. "What did you think about today's meeting?"

Y/N sighed, looking up into the sky. "I feel guilty for enjoying the moment I ripped Velvette apart, yet I feel no remorse for killing her. Such an uncouth and vulgar person has no right to behave with such disrespect towards me." Alastor's grin widened significantly. "And... I cannot wait for the next purge. I want to burn Heaven to cinders. Those hypocrites have grown far too arrogant for their own good, and I believe they need to be taught a harsh lesson."

"I see we are on the same wavelength as always, my dear." the demon sipped from his tea. "I am quite glad those arrogant hypocrites turned you away, for such a silly thing like - Vanity - They say. Beautiful women should be allowed to feel that-a-way, not ostracised for being such jewels for one's eyes." ever the charmer with poison dripping from his tongue. "Before I turn in for the evening, I have a gift for you - For friendship's sake." Y/N rose a suspicious eyebrow, watching as he took out a carefully folded picture from his blazer's pocket, and handing it to her. "I am going for a new fitting with Rosie tomorrow, should you wish to join us for a lovely day of self-care." the girl smiled, nodding her head at him in appreciation. "Have a pleasant evening."

Y/N muttered her pleasantries, and waited for Alastor to leave her sight, before unfolding the picture and bursting to tears. She cradled the precious memory to her heart, and sobbed for as long as her heart needed.

What have they done so wrong to deserve this? They were so happy while alive, so what went wrong? Was her opulent life, the reason for their downfall? Did her beloved think she wouldn't love him, if he couldn't match her family's wealth? Were all soulmates made to be torn apart while at their most blissful?

Still, she was grateful that she wasn't accepted into Heaven, for she would have had a most awful afterlife, as opposed to the many Overlord friends she made since she's been sent to Hell after her gruesome death, and the many favours she received from the Lords and Royals who went to Earth to retrieve items of importance for her.

Drying her tears, Y/N walked back inside the hotel, ready to turn in for the night, only to stop in her tracks as soon as she heard a soft sob, followed by a few very familiar curses in a variety of languages that she knew all too well. Her heart clenched as she stepped cautiously towards the foreign room, eavesdropping for any other sound, only to be met with more muffled cries.

Biting her lip, the demoness knocked on the door, only to be cursed harshly and told to fuck off. Y/N gulped, feeling taken aback by being talked in such a way - Though she immediately composed herself, reminding herself that he, too, is hurting, most likely far more than she is.

She excused herself before opening the door and entering. "What fucking part of 'FUCK OFF' don't you FUCKING UNDERSTA---" Husk was livid, getting in a sitting position as he growled with incredible hostility at the one who dared barge in his bedroom so rudely, only to remain speechless as he realised it was the demoness herself, standing with a sympathetic smile on her face. She also seemed to have been crying prior to this. "Oh. It is you." he cleared his throat, getting back on the bed, unable to face her.

"I have missed you dearly." her voice was so soft, so beautiful, so endearing... "I... Cannot believe that I am seeing you again. It seems to me that, no matter how far apart, our souls will forever traverse oceans of time and space, just to embrace each other once more."

She could hear him sniffling, his nails digging deep into the blanket. "You have always been so romantic and poetic." he grumbled, hiding his face in the pillow. "You shouldn't be here."

"You will have to be more specific, my love." she hummed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. "Here - In Hell? Or here - In your room? Either way, I would say, I am right where I need to be."

"I don't understand." as if burning with frustration, Husk shot up, looking with self-hatred at the girl. "You did nothing wrong your entire life. You were nothing but a living sunshine. A fucking flower in human form. What the fuck did those angels not agree with, that they cast you to this shit hole?"

"There was a time when you would beat up any man who would curse in my presence." Y/N's adorable giggle made the demon's face flush red. "I am sorry that you are suffering so much, at my expense. I could never repay you for everything you have done for me, while we were alive."

"What the hell are you apologising for anyway? I got you killed, not the other way around - And even if it were that way, it'd've been a blessing in disguise, getting rid of a dead beat worthless fuck like me." he huffed, looking away. "You always were too good for me." the demon had so much to say, so many regrets to yell, so much love to spill... Alas, he remained quiet. "You seemed happy with Al. I wish I could be that, while we were alive." his voice went to soft, it was barely audible. "You should... Stay with him."

"Yes, I am happy being friends with Alastor. He was the one who introduced me to Rosie and Carmilla and Zestial, and I cherish them all dearly, as my like-minded friends." Y/N spoke calmly, reaching her hand to cup her lover's soft cheek. "He also was the one to tell me of your misdemeanours. How you succumbed to your vices; to gambling and alcohol, to the the point that you lost your soul in a deal with him. How pitiful." he was so confused as to where she was trying to get with her words, yet in spite of the anticipation for blames and reproaches, he couldn't help but lean into her warm and gentle touch. "He is the one who helped me become an Overlord, and I took your place. And it is Alastor, and some other friends of mine, who helped retrieve some objects I thought long lost."

"... You still smell like Chanel N°5." his comment made the girl giggle again.

"One of my friends had his little imps go to the human world and rob an entire Chanel store, to bring me all Chanel N°5 perfume bottles." how incredulous, Husk thought, staring at the girl flabbergast, speaking of a clear crime, committed in her name. And then, he started laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of her statement.

"Angel would kill to have a whole room of Chanel N°5." he said, his eyes softening as he put his hand over hers. "Y/N... Knowing that you are doing fine... That you aren't suffering... Or anything that I put you through... It makes me... Content."

"My darling." Y/N called out. "Do you remember the day of our wedding?"

"Of course I do. What's that question?"

With a cheeky grin, she took out the picture from her purse, handing it to her beloved. "Alastor was able to find this. His connections truly are amazing." Husk's eyes were wet with falling tears, and his lips were trembling. "I forgot I had pink roses braided in my hair. I was so busy looking at my handsome husband, that everything around me vanished." Husk's sobbing got even louder. "I wanted to frame this picture first, but I couldn't resist showing it to you first."

"Get out, Y/N! Get out!" his voice was broken and raw, so pained that even her heart shattered. "I am not the man you fell in love with. Why do you think my name is 'Husk'? I am just that - A husk of the man I never was. I am not worth anything. I don't amount to anything. I just gamble money I don't have and drink booze until I pass out. I don't deserve a second chance, and I certainly don't deserve you. I never did. I got you killed, damn it!"

"You think too much, you fool." Y/N cupped his face, bringing him into a gentle kiss - A kiss so loving that it numbed his pain, and hightened his senses, that got his heart pumping again and his lungs screaming for air. "I fell in love with you for good reason, and I intend to remain by your side, loving you." she smiled, wiping his tears with her thumb. "You can try as much as you wish to drive me away, but it will not work. You may succeed in convincing yourself that you are a lesser man, but you cannot do that with me. I know the man before me, and I know I will never leave you."

"Y/N..." the man sniffled, burying his face in her bosom, holding so tightly onto her petite body that he almost feared breaking her.

"There was once a time when you would only call me 'Sweety'." her honeyed giggle sounded so teasing, yet it didn't embarrass him. It served only to make him chuckle.

"There was also a time when I would only call you 'Chanel', if you recall." it almost felt as though they were both alive, and during their honey moon, without a single care in the world, and living a most carefree life.

"That does bring back some very amusing memories." Husk hummed in agreement, feeling melancholic, despite the intense joy surging through his body. Perhaps it was due to the unfamiliarity of this positive feeling, that he felt exhausted, or maybe from his excessive crying and whining. Regardless, he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in his wife's arms, and never leave this blasted room ever again.

"Can you promise me something?" the man asked. "I am selfish still - Even more so as a demon. I am nothing but filth. I didn't deserve you then, and I deserve you even less now. Still... Now that you're here... I can't let you go again. So..."

Though he found himself eating his words, Y/N only smiled, laying down on the bed and taking him down with her, nestling him comfortably into her loving embrace. "Alastor said you purr like a kitten. I would love to hear that, tonight." she hummed, hearing his annoyed snarl. "And every night going forward, for as long as we may live in this afterlife we have." Husk's body became stiff, frozen with shock. "That is what you wanted me to promise, isn't it? That I will never leave you." he didn't respond. "It is within our wedding vows, silly. There is no way I would walk away, after I have just found my soulmate."

"... Even though I look like... This? And I am irredeemably addicted to gambling and drinking, even more so than before... And I have lost my soul to the Radio Demon? I am stuck doing his bidding for eternity... And..." Y/N only hugged him closer.

"No matter what, in sickness and in death, you and I will still be soulbound." his small body was softly trembling with emotion. "I've got you, my darling. Worry not about anything. I have got you." she remained silent for a little while. "But, Husk..." her voice sounded so distant, so... Melancholic. "Do you... Still like me? The way you did before?"

Startled by her words, Husker jolted up, looking at the pitiful visage of his lover. "What... What do you mean...?"

"My skin is pure white, with no colour, except for my make up. My eyes are black where they should be white, and the worst carmine red, where they should be embodying the aspect of nature. Even my hair looks to be an abnormal colour, and no matter how much I try to dye it, it will not retain its original shade." she gulped, looking away from him. "Any shred of normalcy that I have... Is so tiresome, so much work to keep up, the princessy facade that I used to have, that I used to love... That you used to love..." she sighed softly. "Yet even that completely dissolves as soon as I transform in the monstrous form that I fight so hard to keep veiled from the world."

"Y/N." he caressed her soft face, only to notice small particles of powder latching onto his fur. "I'm a fucking furry mammal with wings. I look like a children's plush toy or somethin'. Meanwhile, you look as doll-like as always, and you're afraid I wouldn't like you anymore? How silly." he sighed, leaning to place a kiss on her forehead. For a few seconds, he stopped to ponder over a rather bold move, and in a split second, he retrieved a wooden box from under his bed. "This is my secret. Nobody has to know about this." he spoke, a rosy tint on his cheeks. "Open it."

Carefully, the girl did as instructed, revealing the content of the box. A bunch of letters were preserved there, all of them neatly placed and handwritten with black ink. "Husk..." Y/N felt the air in her lungs dissipating, as she realised all those letters were recreating the exchange of love words from their time alive. "H-How...?"

"I have all our letters memorised." he chuckled lightly. "I... Needed some way of keeping you close... Of remembering you. I am shit at drawing, but I have a good enough memory... So this was the only way of preserving what we had."

"It's been so long... And yet, you... You still remember... All of it? There must be tens, if not, hundreds of them... How...?" the girl was flabbergast, yet melting completely.

"I read them every night before sleep, when alive, and I read them every night now also." those precious teardrop diamonds caressing her cheeks falling down so gracefully.

𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈; 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝒸𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝑒; 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒰𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓁 𝐼 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

His usual raspy voice sounded so romantic as he recited the love poem he wrote to her. A voice that he only reserved for her. A voice that only she would ever know.

𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓁𝓁; 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒽𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼'𝓂 𝒶 𝒻𝑜𝑜𝓁 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈; 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈; 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒; 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁.

A love so pure and true, bottomless and without boundaries; Husker himself forgot just how endless his emotions could run. He thought himself jaded and cold, having lost his own heart, the second he lost her... Yet now... Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he first thought. Perhaps... Even someone like himself deserves some kind of redemption.

𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑒. 𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒.

Without her, he wasn't whole. Without her, he is not himself. Without her, he is empty. Without her, his whole life falls apart. Without her, he is nothing but a worthless deadbeat.

𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒢𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓁𝓁. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝑜𝓌, 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁.

But now, he is not alone anymore - Well, perhaps he never was to begin with, considering he still had Angel and Charlie, to some extent, yet nothing can compare to sweet Y/N's existence by his side. Nothing can heal his aching soul, or revert the damage he did to himself throughout life and afterlife, the way her love for him did.

♡ ~𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓶𝔂 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼~♡

[flicklikesstuff]

Idk if anyone else has noticed this but no one brought it up so…..

Remember how Viv said that Husk refuses to embrace his demon form and thus, doesn’t use his wings often for flight?

And yeah, we never see Husk fly at all prior to Ep 8. In Ep 3, we see him sneak away from the battle exercise, despite the fact that if Vaggie really did throw him, he could’ve easily just flown and skipped it. But he didn’t. And at least we know why.

(Hence, I just have this headcanon that Husk just secretly never knew how to properly fly ever since he first arrived.

Because he felt like he didn’t need to. He had his powers and can handle himself. He used to be a powerful Overlord. And even now, he’s currently under Alastor’s ‘protection.’ Basically, just never really found a reason to learn it, couldn’t be bothered, and simply just because….He doesn’t wanna.)

But then the threat of the extermination came and everything he grew to care about was at risk. And what does he do?

He flies.

For the hotel. For his friends.

He even went to see if his bf Angel’s alright. What a sweetie :))

Since Husk presumably doesn’t do flying a lot usually, it makes sense his back would hurt so much from the excessive strain his wings had to do all of a sudden. He’s not used to this much of flying. Heck, even his poor wings completely drooped to the floor!

He literally gave his back out for his friends- :((

This is going to delve a little bit into headcanon territory from this point onwards. You don’t have to read down if you’re not interested. ⬇️

……..

So Personal Headcanon:

I like to think that in Ep 7, while Vaggie is away with Carmilla and Charlie with Alastor, the other 4 were up to their own shenanigans off screen.

I honestly thought their friendship didn’t get to develop as much as I wanted it to. Especially the interactions with Sir Pentious and Niffty weren’t a lot. The series just established them as close friends and expects us to just take it as word but didn’t really show it much. Maybe Pentious’ death would hit harder if we actually saw him get closer to the others rather than being made fun of all the time.

Anyways, back to the HC, these 4 bonded some more while boarding the place. (Awww, all without being told by Charlie).

And since they knew they’re going to be up against FLYING angels, Angel commented that Husk’s wings can be put to good use for once, rather than just being displayed.

Husk was insecure and got defensive at first, eventually sheepishly admitting he doesn’t know how to use them. Slightly opening up how he hates his current form. While Angel and Pentious were confused at first, they both didn’t make fun of it any further. (Because yay! Development! Charlie would be proud.)

Husk warms up a little and claims that “Fine, he’ll try for the hotel’s sake but this is a one time thing…blah blah blah.”

Cue Pentious using and teaching his ‘expertise’ on flight from his machines. Angel smirking every time a clueless Pentious discusses the forces of “Lift, Drag, Weight and…ahem. Thrust.” Meanwhile, Husk attempts to ignore Angel but fails to resist smirking back at times. (Because I know Huskerdust fans love collecting crumbs) And later on, Niffty insisting she wants to be the one to push Husk off the balcony for practice.

Which, she does. On Angel’s count of 3. But she pushes him before Angel could even begin counting. Pentious debating and suggesting whether it’s better for the trial to do it ON 3, BEFORE 3, or start from 1. Regardless, Niffty messes each trial up. And Husk is just regretting everything in this nightmare his 3 friends call “training.” This is just one of their many shenanigans btw.

Eventually though, Husk did get the hang of it….somewhat. He could glide, take off and hover. But couldn’t really stay up long or fly high because his muscles and stamina for flight are terrible since he doesn’t do it often. Thus, why Husk stays very close to the ground during the final battle and only flies short distances. But the 4 considered it good enough.

(Angel made a joke on the “lack of stamina,” and got thrown in the face by a bottle. But yeah, all of them had some fun to a degree and became more emotionally bonded. All before Charlie and Vaggie came back with backup. Woohoo!

Hopefully they won’t see a particular snake die in front of their eyes-)

If any of y’all want to make a fic of this concept, be my guest. The only condition is that you share me the link :))

[kleine-joost]

After Midnight 18+ MDNI

Joost Klein x AFAB Reader

'Cause everything good happens after midnight.

WARNINGS: THIS IS RPF! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, MOVE ON! drinking, smoking, piv sex, umm yeah

You didn’t go clubbing very often. It just wasn’t really your scene, only when you were begged to tag along by friends on special occasions would you make the effort to get all dolled up and wear one of the three dresses you owned that could pass at club appropriate.

And all of these nights would start out the same, a nightmare. With music too loud, people surrounding you that were too sweaty and apparently had no regard for personal space. But you always obliged in your own personal hell for your friends. 

You laughed while you watched your group drunkenly scream the lyrics to The Spice Girls’ Wannabe from your spot against the wall near the dancefloor. They were coaxing you to join them, but you were overly aware of your presence in the club, and you worried about the stares you would get. You knew it was silly, and arguably conceited, to think you would be watched, but you were right.

~

Joost watched you as you walked in, and when you ordered your first drink–a gin and soda with a splash of lemonade–and then your second. He stood not far from you, waiting for you to finish that glass so he could offer to buy you a third, before anyone else could get the chance. It was like everything stopped when he first saw you, the universe slowed as his eyes scanned your face, your body, and your hands which were shaking with anxiety. He was sure you hadn’t even looked at him yet, if you did he somehow missed it. Maybe this was just one of those moments when the universe dangles an opportunity in your face, only to take it away so it would only exist in some alternate timeline. Like that movie with Gwyneth Paltrow, only hopefully much happier.

~

You were beginning to feel a buzz that upped your confidence at around halfway through your second drink. When the DJ played Gimme Gimme Gimme by ABBA you couldn’t help but take the hand of one of your friends as you were dragged into the circle they had all formed in your corner of the floor. Your feet and shins ached as the song finished, and your face was flushed from all the excited jumping you did–which was pretty much the only dance move you could do in the crowded club. With adrenaline, you burst into a fit of laughter while trying to catch your breath and downed the last few fingers of your drink. The lights in the building were beginning to blur, you leant into the comfort of it, and the warmth in your chest from the gin.

~

Joost was sure this was just about as close as he could get to love without coming across as a total creep. Your smile was so infectious, he couldn’t hear your laugh over the loud music but he was sure it was just as beautiful as the rest of you. His heart felt like it was going into palpitations, he needed a cigarette to calm down.

~

Your energy was slowly depleting after your brief exertion. You needed a moment to yourself, you told your friends you were going for a smoke–not a regular vice for you but when you drank, the two went one after the other for you. You really didn’t want to have to go and buy a packet of cigs, you never liked to commit to infirmities. You were praying you’d find someone kind enough to lend you a smoke just this once. 

The air was cold in the small courtyard, you were surprised you couldn’t see your breath when you let out a long sigh at the heat immediately escaping your body. There were only a few other people outside; a couple in the midst of an argument (from what you could gather she apparently looked at another guy the wrong way and her boyfriend was not happy about it) and a guy, about your age, scrolling on his phone while he smoked. You saw under his heavy jacket he was wearing a white t-shirt that read ‘I ❤️ ABBA’. It made you chuckle just a bit to yourself, you wondered if he went as wild as you did not ten minutes beforehand. The angry couple’s screams were getting louder and louder, so you figured he was your best bet.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you…” He looked up from his phone when you spoke, there was a look you could almost read as surprise in his eyes. Some of the bluest eyes you think you’d ever seen, but maybe it was just the lighting out there. “Could I bum a smoke from you?”

You gave your best kicked puppy smile, well the best you could with the buzz that was now sitting in the base of your neck.

He nodded ardently, and opened the pack in his hand and held it out to you. You took one and placed it between your lips, he was quick to leap off the brick retaining wall he was leaning on to light the cigarette.

Nothing beat that first drag on a night out. You closed your eyes as you felt your bones get lighter. Exhaling, you muttered a ‘thanks’ to the blond stranger.

“No problem,” he smiled. 

You stayed standing near him, trying to ignore the argument which was now unravelling into an incident that happened last New Years. You saw the kind stranger’s eyes dart from his phone to you every so often, and back to his phone when he realised you’d caught him. You were sure it was the alcohol that was giving you the confidence. 

Eventually the lovebirds took their quarrel back inside, leaving you and the stranger in its wake. You both let out a laugh once you were alone, something about that awkwardness had bonded the two of you. Like the groups of strangers who get stuck in elevators, you imagine.

Through the giggles, you didn’t notice yourself moving closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. You weren’t sure if he noticed either, at least until you both calmed down enough to breathe again.

You quickly pondered the options, and that newfound confidence decided to pitch in again. You kept your hand on his arm, leaning against the wall next to him.

“I-I’m Joost,” he stuttered out after a moment.

When you introduced yourself, he repeated your name. Though not to you, more like he was trying out how it sounded in his mouth. It must’ve been good, he hung his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer. 

A few people emerged from the dark room for a smoke, and you utilised your new closeness, now more so whispering (well, a loud whisper) in each other's ears while you finished your cigarette.

You asked him about his shirt, he laughed and told you he had no shame in loving Abba. And he asked if you were with friends, and when you said yes he told you he was as well.

Part of you didn’t want to leave his side, you felt so comfortable with him so quickly. But when you heard the start of Americano by Lady Gaga, a bolt of excitement ran through your bones. You frantically stubbed out the rest of your cigarette and grabbed Joost’s hand, pulling him with you to your group of friends who had gotten increasingly messier in the time it took you to smoke. Each of them eyed Joost as you pulled him against your body to dance.

~

He was nervous, at the very least. At the most, his heart was beating out of his chest and he could barely keep control of his limbs. He could smell your perfume as you moved around him, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

He placed two soft hands on your hips, swaying with you as you both got lost in the music. That was the routine for the next few songs that played.

~

In lulls, he was introduced to each of your friends, with an explanation of how you had met. One of his hands stayed permanently on the small of your back as you went to the bar to order another drink–which he insisted on paying for. Joost’s friends approached you as you waited for the bartender to make your drink and he was more than happy to introduce you to them all. The feeling of him proudly introducing you, and telling them all about you made you giddy. They were all friendly, and happy to try to embarrass Joost as much as possible by telling you stories from when he was a dumb teenager.

A lively conversation eventually started in the group, and you were missing a lot of the context of the inside jokes being quipped. You could see your friends on the other side of the room, from the looks of it, none of them were far off being ready to leave. You decided to cut your losses and peel off of Joost’s hand and make your way back.

As soon as you took a step away from him, Joost immediately resigned from the conversation and looked at you, worried.

“Where are you going?” He whispered in your ear while you were still just in reach of him.

“I’m going back to my friends,” you answered. “Keep talking, though, have fun!”

He gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read. Maybe confusion? Hurt? Sadness, even? Without another thought he interrupted the story that his friend, Lyon, was telling.

“See you guys later, alright?” He grabbed your hand and said quick goodbyes to all his friends, each of them telling you it was great to meet you.

Only when he was walking you back to our group of friends did you manage to tell him, “you didn’t have to come with me, you could’ve kept talking.”

He hummed in response. “I talk to them all the time, I’d rather be with you.”

You couldn’t hide your smile, you hadn’t ever met someone so sweet. You eyed your friends beginning to all walk with limps, which was the universal symbol for ‘these shoes are making my feet hurt and I need to go home right now’.

 “I think we’ll be heading off soon if you want to come with us?” You asked, you knew it was forward but the third drink you’d just downed made it difficult to care.

“Like to your place?” He asked in a gentle voice you could barely hear over the music–if not for the fact that his face was buried deep in your shoulder as you both swayed to the music with his arm over your shoulder.

“Or yours. If you want.” You smiled at him. His eyes softened, and his smile got wider. You felt a burning in your body that could only be read as anticipation of what the rest of the night had in store. 

He nodded, nervously. “Yeah, I-I’d like that.”

You liked the idea that you made him nervous. It somehow made you more and more confident the more you saw his face blush when you caught him looking at you, and his indecisive hands placed on your back, your hips, and in yours. Something about him made you want to trust him. Like when he helped all your friends find their purses and phones and whatever else they didn’t want to leave in the club before you all departed, and helped each of you down the steps of the entrance of the old concrete building. He even gave you his jacket when he felt you shiver on the walk to the Avondwinkel down the street, you tried to protest but he was adamant. It smelt like cigarette smoke mixed with some kind of musky cologne, it was comforting. 

The inside of the small convenience store was just as packed as the club, full of people buying every snack and drink they could think of. The shop owner was being a good sport about it though, he had some techno pop song you were vaguely familiar with playing over the shop’s speakers and he was talking to every person who approached his counter, asking about their night and making sure they were all okay.

Throughout it all, Joost barely left your side; when you were paying for your packet of gummy worms and bottle of Pepsi, as your group sat on the curb outside for some fresh air, when you called the Uber to your apartment, and in the car on the way there.

In the backseat you tried to focus on anything other than his hand resting heavy on your thigh for fear that you would commit a felony in pouncing on him right there and begging him to have his way with you. It was quite busy on the roads, surprisingly, so it took much longer than expected to get to your little apartment building with its rickety lift that you didn’t dare use, always opting for the stairs. 

Your buzz had died down, mostly, now you were just feeling tired. You rested your head on Joost’s shoulder, feeling that flutter inside you that was becoming all too familiar when he laid his head on top of yours. You both were silent, letting the driver continue his phone conversation in a language you couldn’t understand and listening to the faint radio playing some late night discussion show. It all felt so comfortable, like you’d known each other forever and this was just another night. You wondered if it was a fluke or if this was something truly special.

Joost rested his hand on your thigh. It could’ve just been an innocent gesture, but you knew not when you turned your head to be able to look at his face. A grin, but with no eye contact. 

Two can play at this game, you thought. You placed your hand on top of his and slid it ever so slightly up the bare skin of your thigh. You heard him try to stifle a gasp, you were winning.

At the next set of lights, he lifted his head and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. You got a tingle through your skin, he was painstakingly close to your lips. His face didn’t move, just apart from yours. All you would need to do is–

Before you could finish your thought, he had leant forward and pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second with the shock of processing what was happening, but quickly shuffled to a more comfortable position for your neck. 

The kiss quickly deepened, you opened your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. You shuffled as close as you could to each other, until there was absolutely no room in between you both and your seatbelts were threatening suffocation.

Joost made you feel lightheaded, you weren’t sure why–or how. It was a blur from the car to your apartment. 

Your skin was burning under his touch as he held onto you while you struggled with the sticky lock on your door. Like floodgates, your door opened and the two of you poured into your tiny home. 

He kissed you again once you closed the door. This one was…much more tender, like you both suddenly had the realisation that all this lead-up was heading somewhere and it wasn’t just something you could fantasise about later when you were alone and horny. His jacket–which you were still wearing–got pushed off your shoulders and abandoned on the floor while he left wet, hungry kisses across your neck, your shoulder, just at the hem of your low-cut shirt.

A haze came over you as you looked over his body, arms littered with tattoos and chest hair that was just a shade or so darker than the hair on his head. You had the most primal urge to just devour him.

It was a blur, you both hurried to your bedroom in a rush of clothes being torn off your burning, sweating bodies. Your hands began to explore every inch of each other as you made yourself comfortable on your double-sized bed, all that you could fit in the small room.

He hovered over you, holding himself up with one hand next to your head, kissing a gentle line from your lips to your cheek and to your ear.

“Please, Liefje…” He whispered, his warm breath made all the blood rush to your ear–you were sure it had reddened. “Please let me fuck you.”

You practically melted at that. He was still wearing his boxers, you were sure if they had come off in the flurry of clothes he wouldn’t have had to ask. Your hand inched its way closer to his waistband, gently running your fingers over his abdomen. You watched him with unwavering confidence as he shivered at your touch. It only spurred you on further.

Your fingers drifted below the waistband. You slowly, agonisingly ran your hand down the length of his cock. He was already half-hard, though you could barely talk–you’d been feeling that burning ache in your pussy since the car. You could feel his slick precum, making your torture even more excruciating for him.

You watched Joost’s face. His thick-framed glasses had been discarded on your nightstand so you could properly look into his eyes, see his furrowed brows. He let out a small, guttural moan as you ran your hand over his tip. You could feel him growing harder and harder in your hand.

You kissed him again, and whispered to him. “You ready now?”

He nodded urgently, so you released him from your grasp. Part of him felt the excitement of what was next, but he also painfully missed your touch.

“Do you have any rubbers?” He asked.

You shook your head. You didn’t do this sort of thing very often, you just didn’t have the need for them.

“I have one in my wallet.” He sprung up from his spot on your bed and stumbled out of the room to retrieve his pants that were left in the hallway. 

You didn’t have to wait long for him to return, metallic wrapper in hand.

“Wishful thinking or are you just very confident?” You asked, a smirk across your face.

He scoffed as he flopped back next to you. “Just well prepared, Liefje.”

Joost quickly discarded his boxers and rolled the condom on. Finally, as the tip of his cock rubbed against the slick of your core, you let out a rasping moan that only dragged on as he slowly slid into.

He was bigger than you were used to, but the pressure was sort of comforting, in a way. He waited a moment to let you adjust, your breathing deepened as he placed two soft kisses on your cheeks. You were burning for him. You gave him the green light to start moving.

He started slowly, easing you both into it. But when he heard the soft mewls coming from you with each thrust, he couldn’t help but thrust faster and faster.

Soon the room was a cacophony of both your moans and the sound of skin on skin. Joost’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, you felt every sticky breath he let out as a sheen of sweat collected on your bodies.

He could have been fucking you for hours, you wouldn’t know–each thrust, each slam into you felt like an eternity. You could feel your core begin to tighten, on instinct you reached to your clit, gently massaging it. 

You heard Joost tut at you when he saw what you were doing. He grabbed your wrist and halted your movement. “Let me, Baby.”

It felt like electricity coursing through your veins with Joost’s fingers rubbing your clit and his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper. You were so close to the edge.

“Mmmh… don’t… stop…” You managed to stutter out between moans.

You could tell Joost was close as well. You both carried on, closer and closer…

A rush of cold and warmth and everything in between ran over you as you came. You released an almost primal moan as your body froze in its tracks. 

Joost was still slowly thrusting, panting into your neck, his skin growing red from the exertion.

“Keep going,” you mumbled into his ear. “Come for me…please.”

It took only a few more small pumps for a low groan to erupt from his throat, emptying into the condom. You let him breathe for a moment, before placing a gentle hand on the back of his neck and directing him to face you. He had a couple droplets of now-cold sweat on the bridge of his nose, you wiped them off with your other hand, smiling when he let out a light giggle. You simply weren’t expecting a noise like that out of the man who was still inside you.

“You’re incredible, Liefje,” he sighed.You place a gentle kiss on his lips. “And you’re perfect.”

[lexirosewrites]

I started watching too many videos abt human pregnancy & pets... & this thought wouldn't leave me

Steve & Eddie aren't mated yet, but they're living together, plan to mate, r already engaged, planning to maybe have a wedding or elope depending on how much a wedding would cost, when they adopt a dog (specifically a scottish deerhound bc I dream abt owning this breed in my wildest fantasy & what is fanfic if not wish fulfillment) after moving into a house they bought with the hush money

They love this dog, they did a lot of research into ethical breeders & how best to care for her breed, they've trained her in basics before moving onto more complicated commands & finally going thru a process to train her in the basics of emotional support (bc both of them have nightmares)

her full name is Gandalf the Gray Munson but they've both ended up just calling her Gray, for the most part Gray likes both of her owners equally she'll sit w Eddie as he paints minis or writes, she'll follow Steve around the kitchen or go with him on his morning run, & she'll sit w her owners as they watch something or try to dance w them when they listen to music, she even guards the door to their bedroom when either of them goes into heat/rut & will only move when a human she trusts comes to pick her up so they can take care of her without her owners worrying

Steddie finally elope & have a party w their closest family & friends afterwards, they exchange mating bites & have a short honeymoon, Gray is ecstatic when they get back to say the least, then a week or 2 after they get back Gray starts acting differently... she'll almost exclusively follow Steve around, she sniffs him more often, she cuddles him A LOT & then... Steve's period doesn't arrive so he takes several tests & every single one is positive!!

From there Gray's behavior starts to change more dramatically as the happy couple prepare to welcome their sweet baby into the world, as Steve progresses & his belly starts showing Gray needs to be near Steve like never before, she's purposefully slow on their morning jaunt tht has gone from a run to a walk, when they're out & she's w them & ppl decide to treat Steve's belly like it's public property she'll actually growl & even once jumped at a particularly insistent woman, she begins guarding Steve against pretty much everyone especially Eddie, the only exception to this is Aunty Robin the 3 of them often have cuddle puddles as Steve gets bigger & Eddie is very jealous, Gray especially loves lying w steve in a way tht allows her head to rest on his belly & as the baby grows she feels the baby kick more than once quickly loving the connection w her younger human sibling

when the day of the birth gets near she is glued to Steve & when his belly drops she's climbing into bed w steve & comforts him as the discomfort of pregnancy makes itself known even more

(This part is partially inspired by my mom's experience when she went into labour w me)

Steve gets up late at night because he thinks he needs to pee, Gray follows him into the bathroom as she's done all these 40 weeks, when he pees he realizes right away it isn't actually pee & gray obviously knows it as well

While steve slowly stands & processes tht his water just broke, she does something they never trained her to do: she runs & wakes up Eddie as Steve grips the sink when a contraction hits practicing the breathing he's learned, Eddie is literally dragged into the bathroom by Gray bc she's got his shirt in her mouth, he realizes what's happening & it's controlled chaos as he runs around grabbing Steve's shoes, a pair of clean sweat pants for his omega, & the maternity shirt Eddie’s been scenting every day for the last 40 weeks, he's got the hospital bag over his shoulder, car keys, he's actively calling Robin to come to their house & watch Gray while he's helping steve to the car, as they're driving to the hospital he's on the phone w their doctor telling her to meet them at the hospital they all planned to be at,

after they get to the hospital it all goes relatively smoothly: steve gives birth to a healthy baby boy, Eddie is a helpful presence in the birthing room, neither baby boy or steve have health complications, but it still takes close to 10 hours of active labor to meet their son, after its done steve demands Eddie get him a cheeseburger, strawberry milkshake, & French fries from their favorite diner that's literally open by the time steve is in his hospital room recuperating and their son is back from a short bath & the usual medical procedures tht hospitals follow after the birth of a baby

When Steve & the baby come home a few days later Gray is ecstatic to see Steve again & so so curious & loving of her new human brother 💖

(I'm so sorry if there's any inaccurate medicine happening here, please tell me what I missed or even messed up)

i’ve always said that Steve and Eddie need an emotional support dog to help them with their trauma after everything they’ve been through, but Gray goes above and beyond for his little family🥺😭💕

[jasmines-library]

SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST

All the things on the road so far:

Total count: 35

Last updated: 17 September 2024

⛤ MASTERLIST ⛤

⛤ Hey Jude

Summary: When a demon hunt doesn't go to plan, the Winchesters have to rush to save their little sister. Though to make matters worse, once back home in the safety of the bunker her wound gets infected. With their angel friend MIA, Sam and Dean must battle time to find a way to help their sister.

⛤ Just One Big Headache

Summary: A routine salt 'n' burn takes a nasty turn when the spirit directs its anger towards you, leaving you with a nasty concussion, but not to worry, the Winchesters are there to look after you.

⛤ Spellbound Sickness

Summary: A long and cumbersome witch hunt turns much worse when you begin to develop a high fever; a side effect of the curse she managed to spit out at you. Will the Winchesters find the cure in time?

⛤ Up and Down

Summary: After returning from being tortured by the devil himself, your brain can’t help conjure up its own images which refuse to leave you alone.

⛤ Let It Linger

Summary: after a rough hunt resurfaces some unwanted memories, you slip into your own mind. But Sam is there to help you through it.

⛤ Blood Bag

Summary: you are captured by a group of vamps whilst on a hunt. They take their time trying to kill you, draining you of your blood in an old warehouse. For the Winchesters, it’s a race against time to reach you before something fatal happens.

⛤ Safehouse

Summary: after sustaining an injury on a hunt, you and Dean are forced back to the safehouse, however the wound festers and becomes infected, leaving you very ill. With Cas MIA and without the proper equipment to treat the wound, you are left clinging onto life. (Unknowingly like Hey Jude because I’m stupid and forgot id already done it. It’s slightly different though)

⛤ The Basement

Summary: You are captured alongside your brother Sam by the BMOL. They want something you won't tell them, so they try to force it out of you.

⛤ Hidden on the inside

Summary: During a hunt, you take a nasty hit which at first seems fine, but it's what's hidden deep under the surface that creates a problem. (I get it, i suck and writing summaries.)

⛤ Oh, Baby.

Summary: on the way back from a hunt, an out of control car veers into yours sending it hurtling off of the path and into a tree, leaving you trapped. Too far from the hospital, the Winchesters are left with the task of getting your body from the car as they wait for Cas to arrive.

⛤ Sweet Creature

Summary: When Dean is a Demon, he does something unexpected to you. Since then, you have become withdrawn, refusing to sleep in fear of the images that plague your mind. When you eventually give in and suffer a nightmare, Cas is there to help.

⛤ Sounds Of Someday

Summary: the request pretty much says it all. When you and your brothers split up during an unusual hunt, you get caught and become part of a witch’s ritual, which ends with your life slipping away and your brothers struggling to reach you as you are ripped away from them.

⛤ Devil in Disguise

Summary: After escaping from the cage, Lucifer decides to pay Sam a visit, only he's not there. So he settles on the next best thing: you.

⛤ Black Smoke Rising

Summary: Seeking revenge on the Winchesters, a demon decides to go undercover by using your body as a vessel to sneak into the bunker. Whilst trapped within your own mind, you can only hope that Sam and Dean notice that something is amiss before it is too late.

⛤ Just A Little Complication

Summary: Whilst Dean is in hell, the reader is the only one who can calm Sam down when he gets overwhelmed.

⛤ Knock it off

Summary: whilst at dinner with her family, the reader begins to choke.

⛤ Groundhog Day

Summary: takes place during the episode ‘Mystery Spot’ but instead of Dean dying over and over again, Sam and Dean are forced to watch their sister die repeatedly .

⛤ Sleep Is For The Weak

Summary: With too much to do and not a lot of time to do it, you overwork yourself, missing out on sleep. When your brothers try to get involved, you dismiss them only for you to end up collapsing during a hunt.

⛤ The Curious Case Of Dean Winchester

Summary: Takes place during S5E7 where the reader loses years off of her life to save Dean from a demon deal, however when Sam tried to win her years back, it may already be a little bit too late.

⛤ Dead In The Water

Summary: takes place during S1E3 where the reader ends up in the water with Lucas.

⛤ Dilemma

Summary: When you and your brothers get caught of guard during a werewolf hunt, they are quick to try and blame each other. But little do they know that their bickering might cost you your life.

⛤ Teeth

Summary: Reader gets turned into a vampire

⛤ So close, Yet Too far

Summary: you just really need a hug.

⛤ Hexed

Summary: a hex bag finds its way to you…

⛤ Breathe

Summary: You have an asthma attack.

⛤ Currents Convulsive

Summary: you get electrocuted.

⛤ The Things They Carried

Summary: based on the episode; you get infected by a parasite and have to find a way to get it out.

⛤ Caught Off Guard

Summary: you get attacked by a werewolf and have a panic attack

⛤ ‘Tis the Season

Summary: A fluffy one shot where the Winchesters celebrate Christmas.

⛤ A Winchester Surprise

Summary: After years of your birthday being forgotten or consumed by a hunt, your brothers make sure that this one is extra special.

⛤ Time For A Wedding

Summary: Sam and Dean attend the readers wedding.

⛤ Unconditional

Summary: 15 year old Winchester!sister discovers she is a lesbian, and whilst on a date with a girl she sees in a diner she gets harassed by a homophobic boy. When she returns, Sam and Dean comfort her.

⛤ Somebody Told Me

Summary: Sam and Dean give their nervous younger sister dating advice.

⛤ Sick Bug

Summary: When you wake up feeling sick, your big brothers are there to help make you feel better. (Hurt/comfort ish)

⛤ Noodle Soup

Summary: The reader takes care of their sick brothers

⛤ Changes (spn x dc)

Summary: You are sick of Sam and Deans bickering, so you venture to Gotham to hunt some vampires where you meet some very interesting vigilantes.

⛤ Family First

Summary: Sam and Dean show their appreciation for their older sister

⛤ Today I Saw The Whole World

Summary: You are Sam Winchester’s twin sister, cursed with the same blood running through your veins. When Sam begins experiencing his visions, you too discover a new skill. You can see into the veil.

⛤ Bringers Of The Apocalypse (spn x DC Crossove)

Summary: The day Lucifer was freed from the cage was the day your life completely fell apart. You were ripped harshly from the peaceful life you had created for yourself in Gotham when your duty as the horseman of war calls and you are faced with a difficult decision: stay with your family in Gotham and let the apocalypse play out, or give up the ring (and ultimately your life) to go with the Winchester brothers who are searching for you to send Lucifer back to hell and save the world… or perhaps you can find a compromise somewhere inbeteeen.

[mrsdesade]

Hey, could you write a homelander x reader where she works at Vought and unknowingly gets his attention and he stalks her?

Hi dear anon, thanks for your patience!! I don't have much time to write full fics these days, because life is happening and I'm very busy physically and mentally, but I can happily offer some headcanons 💕

Homelander's obsessive behaviors headcanons

First of all, his romantic gestures, while seemingly sweet, are often rooted in his need for control and his inability to understand healthy relationships. His actions can be seen as manipulative and even frightening, especially when considering his overall personality and powers.

Constant surveillance: He would employ his super hearing and x-ray vision to keep a constant watch on you. He might use these abilities to monitor your home, workplace, or any other place you frequently visit.

Data collection: He'd collect as much information as possible about his current obsession: you. This could include your daily routines, social media activity, and even your deepest fears and desires. He might use his Vought resources to access private databases.

Preserving memories: Homelander might keep a collection of items that remind him of you, like a lock of your hair or a piece of your clothing. Oh God If you gift something to him, he's going to cherish this like a museum piece.

Love bombing: He'll shower you with love and attention, he loves doing it, especially at the beginning of the relationship, to reel you in.

Unwanted gifts: Homelander would often leave small, often expensive gifts for his favourite persons in unexpected places. These gifts could be anything from flowers to jewelry, and they would always be personalized to show how well he knows you. Often with small notes inside. Doll, baby, my girl, nicknames are on plate.

Sudden appearances: Homelander would frequently appear where you least expects him. He might show up at yor work, your home, or even a random location you're visiting. At least three times at week, minimum.

Testing your loyalty: He might create situations to test your loyalty to him. This could involve putting you in a difficult position or asking you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.

Excessive praise: When you two are together he would shower you with compliments, often going overboard and making you feel uncomfortable. He might even compare you to other people, always putting you on a pedestal. You're his precious treasure and he loves you so goddamn much.

Isolation tactics: He might try to isolate you from their friends and family at some point, making you believe that he is the only one who truly understands your needs.

Future planning: He might make elaborate plans for your future together, down to the smallest details, without ever consulting you. He'll make grand plans for the two of you for sure. This could include things like buying a house together or having children.

Gaslighting: If you decide to start to question his behavior, Homelander might resort to gaslighting. He could make you doubt their own perceptions and memories, making you believe that you're just imagining things.

Public displays of affection: Homelander might engage in very public displays of affection, such as putting his arm around you in front of a crowd, or giving you a very long, lingering kiss. This is partly to show off his "perfect couple" image, but also to mark his territory.

Obsession with physical touch: Homelander might find ways to touch you, in every moment, he need that, even if it's just brushing against them or holding their hand. He would crave any form of physical contact.

Nightmares and sleep disturbances: His obsession for you would consume his thoughts, leading to vivid nightmares and difficulty sleeping. He might even develop a fear of losing you really easily. Despite his outward confidence, Homelander has a deep-seated fear of being abandoned. This fear can lead him to become increasingly possessive and controlling.

-------

Thanks again for the request, enjoy! Kisses kisses! 💕

[jflemings]

— in the dark

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie comforts you after you have a nightmare

warnings: nightmare, symptoms of anxiety, slight derealisation

୧ ‧₊˚ ⭐️ ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

your heart jumps in your chest as you sit up right in bed. you can feel the sweat sticking your t-shirt to your back, making you squirm and immediately stripping.

you fumble out of bed and into the bathroom across the hall, flicking on the light and wetting a washcloth so that you can try to rinse your back. tears prick at the corners of your eyes as images flash through your mind like a movie on repeat. your heart still stutters in your chest.

water drips down your back and wets the waistband of your pyjama shorts, cooling your skin. you’re not paying attention to anything other than ridding yourself of the sweaty feeling, meaning you don’t hear jessie get out of bed and step across the hall. the canadian pokes her head into the bathroom and frowns.

“babe, what are you doing?” she asks tiredly.

you just about jump out of your skin, stepping back and placing a hand over your heart. your eyes widen at the sight of jessie standing in the doorway “jessie?” you say airily

“yeah?” she asks as she cocks a brow. her eyes trail down your bare back and then land on your discarded shirt on the floor “why are you awake? it’s two in the morning”

you shake your head and drop your eyes. the washcloth drops into the sink with a solid slosh. holding your chest with one arm, you lean over the counter and deeply breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth “it’s nothing. go back to bed”

jessie notices your sweat-slick forehead and your jumpy behaviour after she rubs the sleepiness out of her eyes. a hand delicately falls to your shoulder and she grabs the cold washcloth off of the sink.

she ignores the way you flinch and runs it over your back “it’s not nothing if it’s got you out of bed” you murmurs tenderly. goosebumps erupt over your skin as she drags the cloth down your spine “and i can’t sleep very well without you anyways”

you meet her eyes in the mirror, the familiar shade of honey brown stares back at you intently, searching for any non-verbal answers you may give her. you drop your head between your shoulders.

“it was just a nightmare” you mumble

jessie hums in response and continues cleaning your skin carefully “and it scared you so bad you jumped out of bed?”

“my shirt was clinging to me. it made me feel gross” you say as you dig your toe into the tiled floor below you. the feeling of her standing behind you makes you want to run.

the midfielder nods as she listens to you carefully. when she’s done wiping down your back she places the washcloth in the sink and leaves the bathroom before returning not even thirty seconds later with a clean shirt for you. you smile smally at the worn, oversized t-shirt you’ve had for years. your university logo is faded and peeling slightly but you can’t bring yourself to get rid of it.

jessie bunches the shirt around the head hole as you drop your arm from your chest. she puts the fabric over your head and drapes it so that both of your arms have room to slide in, leaving you cozy and more relaxed then when she found you.

she tilts her head slightly and tucks some hair behind your ear, frowning when you still flinch the away from her hand slightly. she furrows her brows and cups your cheek “what’s got you so scared?”

tears begin to brim your eyes at the mention of the nightmare again. you shake your head and pick at your fingernails so you don’t have to look your concerned girlfriend in the eye “i can’t” you whisper.

her hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, and she brings you into the crook of her neck “it’s just me, it’s only me” she says as you begin to cry to her “it wasn’t real and it’s just us here, okay?”

you weakly nod against her warm skin “i know”

she kisses the side of your head “you’re safe” she mumbles against you. the hand on the back of your neck is firm and grounding, and you can feel jessie’s fingers flex slightly. her other hand slips under your t-shirt and finds a home on your lower back. you exhale deeply.

“you weren’t real” you whisper against jessie’s collarbone “you disappeared and people kept telling me you never existed. they were saying that i made you up and treated me like i was crazy”

you shake your head and cry harder, gripping the back of jessie’s shirt tightly “the house was empty and—and no one was listening to me. it was like you were just never in my life, like our relationship was all in my head”

she pulls you impossibly closer “i’m real” she says firmly “and i’m right here”

“are you sure?” the way your voice cracks breaks her heart. she pulls your head off her neck to look at you intently before she guides you to sit on the closed toilet.

she crouches down in front of you “baby. i promise you”. jessie places her both her hands on your knees “the nightmare was just that — a nightmare. this isn’t a dream, you are very much awake, and i am very real”.

a new wave of tears track down your cheeks, leaving glistening skin in their wake. you search her eyes for anything that might betray her words and crumble forward into her arms when you don’t. your head falls onto her shoulder and jessie’s arms wrap around you as best they can in the position you’re in.

sobs echo off the walls of the bathroom and split the otherwise silent night in half. your shoulders shake as the tension bleeds out of you, the weight of the night finally crumbling around you.

“i’m so sorry” you cry “fuck”

“it’s okay, it’s alright” her voice is firm but understanding, and you can hear the way the words tremble slightly as they fall off her tongue “there’s nothing to be sorry for”

“jess”

she kisses your temple firmly, letting her lips linger for a moment “you’re okay. you’re safe, and there’s no reason to apologise”

you nod weakly and sit up straighter. jessie’s hands fall to your knees again, her thumbs tracing circles on your skin as you catch your breath. your eyes flutter shut at the reassuring sensation of jessie’s skin on yours.

the canadian watches your chest rise and fall and she sits up on her knees. the new, plush mat that’s placed on the floor in front of the toilet serves as a barrier between her bare knees and the cold tiled floor, but it doesn’t do much for the sudden goosebumps that litter her skin. the cool air of the bathroom, paired with the silence and the state you’re in, sends a chill down her spine. she releases a breath.

“y/n” she says softly, squeezing your knees once to get your attention “please look at me”

the overhead slight makes you squint slightly as you open your eyes to look at your girlfriend. she wears a neutral expression but her eyes give her away the second you look into them; the concern only thinly masking the fear.

“do you believe me when i tell you i’m real?”

you nod “yes”

“and you know that you’re real?”

“yes”

jessie nods her head and wipes your tears. you lean into her touch and chase it when she goes to pull away, holding her hands against your still warm face.

once she’s sure you’re calm again she stands slowly, bringing her hands to your shoulders “do you need anything?”

“no” you shake your head and rub a hand over your face before holding her wrist “i’m okay now”

she leans down and captures your lips in a soft kiss that fully brings you back to earth “are you sure? we can stay up if you think you won’t be able to go back to sleep”

“jess” you say softly as you hold the junction between her neck and shoulder “you don’t have to do that, i know you wanted to be up early tomorrow”

she shakes her head “it’s my day off and i don’t need to be up early. if you can’t sleep i’ll stay up with you”

you rise off the toilet lid and wrap an arm around her neck, drawing her into you. her own arms wrap around your middle and squeeze before she tucks her head into your neck.

“we can go back to bed, i’m just gonna refill my waterbottle”

“let me do it” she urges as she lifts her head “you go lay down”

before you can protest, she pushes you out of the bathroom and back across the hall to your bedroom. she keeps one hand firmly on your lower back, guiding you to your side of the bed.

jessie urges you to lie down and smiles softly when you relent with an eye roll. she takes your waterbottle from the bedside table and kisses you on the forehead “i’ll be two seconds”

true to her word, jessie seemingly takes two seconds. she walks into your bedroom with your water, a melatonin and a small smile gracing her features.

“i didn’t know if you wanted to take this but i thought i’d grab it just incase” she says as she places the water and medication down. the canadian climbs into bed beside you, fluffing her pillow before lying down facing you.

you mimic her and turn on your side “i’m sorry”

jessie frowns “babe—”

“seriously. i don’t know what i would’ve done if you asked me if i was real, i can’t even imagine what that felt like” you frown “i saw the fear in your eyes, jess” you whisper to her in the dark.

“i can’t tell you that i wasn’t shocked, or even scared, but i was more concerned about you. i want you to feel safe with me. always. i wasn’t even thinking about how i was feeling because i just wanted you to be okay” she brushes some hair out of your face and cups your cheek “there’s no need to apologise”

“i love you” you murmur as you kiss her palm

“i love you more” she says quietly back to you. her hand slides off your cheek and down to your shoulder before pulling you towards her. you go easily, as always, and tuck yourself against her body, burrowing your head between her neck and pillow.

jessie’s fingertips dance over your upper back, tracing mindless shapes as the two of you slowly lull yourselves back to sleep. “y’know you’re the love of my life” she whispers against your ear “seriously. there’s no where i want to be than right here with you for the rest of my life”

the casual declaration of love makes your heart flutter in your chest. the way the words roll off jessie’s tongue so easily, so naturally, make you feel like you’re going to melt. knowing that someone has the ability to love you the way she does is almost unimaginable in many ways.

“and you’re the love of mine” you reply “thank you for loving me”

jessie hums simply and her pattern tracing begins to slow significantly. her steady breathing tickles the shell of your ear as she takes the last steps to enter sleep’s embrace. she pulls you closer and rolls more onto her back so that her other arm can wrap around you comfortably “easiest thing i’ve ever done.”

[s1aywalker]

꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ little miss scare all. ꨄ

↷ ✩ —— sam monroe x alt! girlfriend reader headcanons. (nsfw 18+)

notes: a little slutty a little smutty! minors do not interact or else i'll collect your kneecaps. can we please stop kidding ourselves... this dude wants a goth girlfriend. and it's my duty as the resident metalhead mommy to serve my community. one alt!reader fic at a time.

| | | | she's got a date at midnight with nosferatu. oh baby, lily munster ain't got nothing on you. ⋆˚࿔

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe is, first and foremost, a fucking hater for the fun of it. the type of dude that calls anyone who doesn't listen to anything he deems cool a poser. the type of dude that sees a chick wearing a metallica shirt that she got from the thrift store and, with a straight face, tells her to name three albums without missing a single beat. so he thinks it's pretty fucking sick to have a girlfriend that can keep up with his, perhaps to most, acquired tastes in music.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who is ridiculously stubborn but secretly loves when you introduce him to new bands. he always acts like they're just okay after you popped the cd you recently bought into his stereo, and sometimes he'll even lie and say he already knows who they are. that he discovered them months ago. but then it's a few songs deep into the album, and wait... why is this actually fucking good?

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who is an absolute nightmare to argue with. even when it's not serious, when it's just having differing opinions on silly things like which vocalist is better, which album is the best. he's so stuck on his own likes and dislikes and everything is, as fred durst would say, his way or the highway. it's almost like he enjoys arguing with you... and maybe he does, because you can be just as stubborn when it's a topic as passionate as music, and he thinks it's cute when you stand your ground. he stopped actually caring about the argument ten minutes ago, and now he's just trying to piss you off because he thinks it's funny.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who has broadened his musical horizons thanks to you. bands like type o negative and h.i.m that constantly incorporate very obvious "romantic" themes into their songs never really did anything for him because he thought it was lame and corny. until he had to endure you constantly listening to them. now he'll claim his enjoyment of them is from a form of stockholm syndrome... but maybe he just never had a person that he could relate them to before he met you. he thinks about you when he hears be my druidess or for you. plus, they're one hell of an aphrodisiac, and he quickly discovered just how easy it is to get a hand under your bra or in your pants when they're playing.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who loves fishnets... maybe to an unhealthy degree. every time he sees you wearing them, he can't help but think about how good they make your legs look, how good he knows your ass looks under that skirt, and the thoughts of him tearing them to shreds instantly begin to flood in. and that's exactly what he does, the second he gets the chance. those poor tights never stand a chance in the same room as him... he'll promise to get you another pair while he's slotted between your legs and your hips are lifted, a promise he only keeps half the time. as his fingers dig into the fabric and start ripping them apart like it's the easiest thing in the world. like that's what those little tiny holes were made for. it's foreplay to him. but sometimes he's too impatient to even get them all the way off. sometimes he'll rip the crotch and push your panties aside to fuck you with a nice view of your legs still covered.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who encourages your piercing urges. you mention wanting a new hole in your ear or nose? he's on board. when you mention wanting your tongue pierced? that's hot. immediate filthy thoughts of what it would feel like when you guys are sucking face nasty style. or better yet, what it would feel like rubbing against his cock. when you mention wanting your nipples done? he thought he was going to have a stroke on the spot, and he's offering to make the appointment for you if it means seeing that in his face as soon as possible. he'll even hold your hand and let you squeeze him until your knuckles are white while you're getting them done. but once it came time for the boring aftercare part, his excitement drops the second he hears about healing time.... weeks? he has to wait weeks to put them in his mouth? but he'll make those weeks worth it once you've given him the go ahead. he's actually fucking feral about it when you do.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who lets you do his eyeliner. honestly, he's a little envious how good you can make yours look. effortlessly sharp and smoky. and you've always teased him about how shitty he does his. how he holds the pencil, how he has zero technique and just smudges it on with his fingers and doesn't even wash his hands afterward. so you jump on the chance to do it for him... it's only a bonus for both of you that you get to sit on his lap and be inches away from each others pretty faces. he's grumpily telling you not to poke his eye out and pretending he's not getting hard from the proximity alone. you notice... it's literally impossible to not feel it. and now you're trying to hurry this little makeover before you get the urge to ride his fucking thigh... but that's what you end up doing anyway. he's got one eye done and that pencil is long forgotten while his own hands are guiding your hips as they drag across his leg, searching for more of that friction his jeans provided. whining and desperate while he's saying how cute it is that you just couldn't wait five more minutes.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who fucks you in the shitty venue bathroom, one covered in stickers and flyers and permanently tainted with the stench of beer, while the equally as shitty opening band plays. it's not romantic. it's hard and fast, sloppy and impatient. because he has you bent over in the stall, repeatedly slamming his cock into your cunt and not caring about how loud it might be. the downtuned guitar and blast beats raging on outside the door works as both a brutal soundtrack to his brutal rhythm, and to muffle every grunt and moan that reverberates against the cramped space. there isn't enough time to be sweet and caring, because this set is about to end and you guys still have to secure a good spot in the pit... but he'll still kiss you and rub his thumb at the mascara bleeding under your eyes, while he's stuffing his cock back into his pants and you're wiping the cum dripping down your inner thigh.

[randomdragonfires]

If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 4

Chapter 4 | Right Where You Left Me

SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.

Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY; Slow burn, I think?

WORD COUNT | 3.4k

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

The days passed by in a quiet, green haze.

The cave where she had been made to stay shouldn’t have provided her with as much solitude as it did, given her circumstances. But with each passing moment, she found herself healing, growing stronger, and seeing as clearly as the blue sapphire that now haunted her dreams. She embraced the quietness of it all, allowing her situation to wash over her as she came to terms with it.

She had run, and she hadn’t made it. The claw marks and gashes all over her form were definite proof. In these last few days, she had been too weak to move. She felt pain with every weak movement in her limbs, ensuring her captivity for a longer period of time. But in the time that had passed as she recovered, one thing was constant.

The nightmares, and him.

Night after night, she found herself ensnared in a labyrinth of nightmares, each more vivid and terrifying than the last. In the darkness of her dreams, the snarling beast lurked, its eyes gleaming with malice as it bore down upon her with relentless fury. She would awaken with a start, her heart pounding against her chest as she gasped for air, drenched in cold sweat. The cave around her offered no solace, its walls closing in like the jaws of the predator she’d been trying to escape in her dreams.

In her tired state of mind, she thought she had imagined his warm palm on her forehead, checking for a fever. Had she imagined his mumbled Valyrian whispers too? Ēdrugon sȳrī, mandianna, she had heard, his voice as mellifluous as the calm waters of the stream outside. [Sleep well, niece.]

She had always loved listening to him speak.

At first, his presence was a comfort, his soothing words a balm to her frayed nerves. He would speak to her in hushed tones, murmuring smooth Valyrian into her ears as she struggled to comprehend the light touch of his moving lips on her skin. And when words failed, he would hold her close, his arms a sanctuary against the dreams that threatened to consume her.

Nyke paktot kesīr, he would say. Ao sagon rūsīr issa. [I’m here now… you’re with me.]

But as the nights wore on, confusion crept into her heart, clouding her thoughts like a dense fog. His touch, once a source of uninhibited, fanciful love, now stirred something unfamiliar within her, a longing and heaviness that she could not name. She would lie awake, breathing and panting in the silence of the cave, her mind awash with questions that had no answers.

Was it his gentle touch that set her soul ablaze, or was it merely the anger at being ripped away from her beloved in the middle of the night? How did it come to this? How did he end up becoming the very safety that she sought to gain by running far and away from him? She could not say, and so she clung to him like a lifeline, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace. What else could she do?

Those were the thoughts that consumed her as she sat up, her body sore as she grunted in pain. She sat up for the first time in what she assumed could only be days, and managed to stand up too. She braced herself with a hand on the slippery cave wall, her eyes landing on the mountain of discarded bandages - covered presumably in her own blood.

She closed her eyes shut and tried to get a grip on her surroundings once more - it seemed that no matter how many times she had tried, she couldn’t come to terms with being brought to the jungle by a man who made her heart rush to wherever he touched her - no matter his intentions to hurt her family.

Are you ashamed of me, mother? For wanting him despite it all? For never stopping?

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, determined to wrestle back control from the haunting memories that threatened to take her for all she was worth. At first, all she could hear were the echoes of that harrowing encounter - the guttural snarls of the boar and the piercing screams - both his and hers - that tore through the air.

No, no, no.

But she refused to let fear hold her captive any longer. Slowly, she forced her mind to shift its focus, reaching beyond the darkness that threatened to suffocate her. Gradually, the noises of her nightmares began to fade, replaced by the gentle sounds of the forest - the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the melodious chirping of birds, and the soothing murmur of the stream of water trickling nearby. Before she knew it, the water had called to her and she walked slowly before stepping inside.

The sting of the wounds from initial contact faded and gave way to a relaxing sensation that made her skin tingle. Her shift billowed in the water, and she let herself breathe before she lifted her head up to breathe. She kept up these motions until she raised her head up to find that Aemond had come back, from wherever he’d gone. His presence, though familiar, sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through her veins, stirring something deep within her.

His expression was one that she knew all too well; there was no mistaking the lust in his eyes as they simply stared at each other, unmoving. In the calmness of her mind, it was easy to forget the weight of their shared history, to lose herself in the fantasy of a time long before the war had torn them apart. Every stolen kiss, every tender touch—it all rushed back to her in a dizzying whirlwind of emotion, threatening to consume her with its intensity.

If she were to beckon him to her right now, would he come? Should she?

The question lingered in the air, heavy with anticipation and uncertainty. But before she could find the words to speak, he was the first to look away, breaking the spell that had held them captive. With a heavy sigh, she watched as he turned away, the distance between them stretching like an unbridgeable chasm. And in that bittersweet moment, she knew that some things were better left unsaid, some desires left unfulfilled. For as much as she yearned for his touch, she also knew the pain that lay in its wake—the shattered dreams, the broken promises.

One moment she wanted to see him die, and the next, her heart would tear itself apart with how much it wanted him. She hated this, not knowing how she felt about him.

But didn’t she?

He set up a fire and sat on a log, staring into the fire like it held all the answers. What did he hope to see?

When the water went from being calming to making her feel cold, she stepped out, damp clothes sticking to her form as she walked, resembling a Goddess come to life. She took her seat next to him, hugging her knees tight as she leaned forward to take in the warmth. She breathed in the smoky smell of the fire, goosebumps rising from the heat of the fire and his gaze, now focused on her.

“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”

Winterfell was beginning to feel less like a foreign land and more like a place she could learn to love and call home.

She had taken her time familiarizing herself with every nook and corner without intruding on what she wasn’t meant to see in her capacity as a guest. If the war ends in her mother’s favor, she knows she’ll soon be Lady of this castle - no longer a guest. She had walked around the gardens, taken her time with the Godswood, gone down to visit the kitchens, and strolled on the grounds countless times. She had made friends, people she loved to speak to and smile at every day; those who made this uncertain time much more bearable as she tried to push horrid thoughts about her family at war to the back of her mind.

And him.

Finding no answers to her confusions as to why Aemond would draw first blood by killing the brother of the woman he loved, her mind raced much too fast for her convenience. She knew why, though, deep down. She simply refused to believe it.

Believing it would mean coming to terms with the fact that he had given up on her. On them.

While she chose not to trust her mind, her heart was a lot more fickle. Lord Stark had been perfectly gracious and treated her with all the gentleness worthy of a Princess and a future wife. It was a calmer, happier, and much less doubtful relationship than the one she had with Aemond. It was steady, and it was hers now.

This would all be hers. Lord Stark would rule the Keep, and she would rule him. He was hers, and he made sure she had no doubts about the same.

The thought did not make her feel as bad as it used to. This would be her way of moving on with her life and doing her part to ensure her mother’s victory. Cregan brought her a satisfaction of doing things right that Aemond did not. She never had to doubt him or herself with this man. Lighter feelings of infatuation clouded her mind as she walked to the library, her purposeful stride taking her to where her future husband sat.

The scent of old parchment hung heavy in the air as she found herself closer to where he was, mingling with the subtle aroma of beeswax polish that adorned the wooden tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. At the heart of the library stood a grand fireplace, its crackling flames casting a warm glow that bathed the room in a soft, golden light. And right next to it, he sat in a wooden chair, elbow on the armrest as he held his face up by the chin. He looked worse for wear and dejected, and it pained her to see.

What was it about her that she only ever ended up with men who chose to brood like there was no tomorrow?

She stood by the arch, leaning to the side as she debated disturbing him when he seemed like he’d much rather be left alone. As she decided to step out and read while waiting for him to come out on his own accord, she heard his heavy voice call after her.

“Princess.”

“My lord.” She couldn’t possibly leave now, so she walked in, steps as quiet as the man himself. She took to standing in front of him, her figure forming a dark silhouette as she blocked the hearth from his view. He leaned forward and took her hands in his, and she was startled by how huge they were in comparison to hers. Aemond’s hands were beautiful in an obviously otherworldly Targaryen way, with nimble, dexterous fingers; Cregan’s were unabashedly huge and well-worked yet warm, just like him.

She would learn to stop comparing them soon. It would not be long. Damned mind and heart, forever at war.

He’d had to execute a Night’s Watch deserter today - the Northerners pass their own sentences, she’d been told. “I heard you’ve had a taxing day. I thought I’d…” It seemed silly to her now to think her presence would lighten him up given the circumstances. She turned to look at the path she’d walked through, nervous at her thoughts of inadequacy as she thought of a suitable excuse to walk away without feeling embarrassed. But it seemed that there was no need.

“I killed a man today. Swung Ice heavy and clean into his neck… and now, I hold the most beautiful woman in the realm with the very same hands.” He talked as though he was speaking to himself rather than her - there was a certain absent-mindedness about him that endeared him to her - or was it his way of showing that his mind was preoccupied?

“Aye, good fortune is shining upon me.”

She smiled, never considering that her presence could bring about that level of comfort to a man who seemed much more put together than she. Her gaze was half-lidded as she looked down at him, his head leaning forward to rest his forehead upon their conjoined hands.

“What’s it like?” She regretted the words immediately after they tumbled out, knowing very well that she was throwing into his face the very subject that he probably wished to forget.

“Do you really want to know? It is a topic unsuited for a woman of your gentle nature, Princess.”

“If you want to speak, I want to listen.”

She did not miss his somber smile, making it clear to her that he appreciated her company more than he let on - for now, that was enough. “When men pledge themselves to the Night’s Watch, it is an oath for life. It is a matter of keeping your word, of honor. And when you’ve proved that your word means little and less, you’ve disrespected those you swore to protect. When this happens… as their liege lord, it is my place to punish them for it. It is not something I take pride in, but it needs to be done. One cannot put off justice for too long. Never.”

“Does it always have to be you swinging the sword?”

“Aye. ‘Tis only respectful to the man losing his life, regardless of his fallacies.”

She nodded, understanding his reasoning, and grateful that he’d seen fit to let her understand. Most would dismiss her, saying it did not fall under a lady’s purview - but he didn’t, and she appreciated that more than he knew.

For a moment, they stayed together in silence. He only got warmer with each passing moment, a feeling of comfort in the cold air that she’d grown accustomed to. “I am grateful… that it’s you,” she said. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve by saying it, but she did anyway.

“I’m glad you’re happier, Princess. I…” She found doubt in his eyes as he debated whether or not to say the words, but she wordlessly encouraged him to go ahead by squeezing his hands in her hold. “Your brother told me that your loyalties are… divided; that you will need time to accept me. I am glad that you are.”

She tensed at the mention of her affections for Aemond, but she was quick to let it pass. She would not entertain her heart’s pull towards the man who killed her brother - she would not. Here sat a good man with the patience of a maester - she would learn to be worthy of his affections.

Almost as though he sensed her train of thought, he pulled her right back to where he was. “Princess?”

She smiled, a tired smile of resignation as she found herself grateful at the hand she’d been dealt. A time of war, where well-bred men were turned into murderers - and somehow, the Gods saw fit to give this good man to her. She was thankful, and by the Gods, she would learn to love him well.

“I’m happy too.”

“How long do you plan on keeping me here, uncle?”

She refused to look at him. Her eyes were trained on the fire, the blaze blinding her for a moment until she turned to look the other way to escape the heat-induced tears in her eyes. She felt the dampness of her form and clothes dissipate with each passing moment, and she let her throat bob as she allowed herself to calm down.

“As long as it takes.” His voice was devoid of any emotion at all, and she was struck by how hard it was for her to read him through his words - it wasn’t like this before. She used to be able to make out his emotions from the simplest of words or noises, but now it was as though she was made to face a stranger. But then again, she didn’t know this man. The Aemond she knew and loved was not battle-tested and war-worn; he was a scholarly achiever who took more pride in himself than his spoils. How could she understand him if she did not know him at all?

“And you see no other way to exact revenge? He’s…” The weight of her words overwhelmed her, and she could not bring herself to complete the sentence.. Here she was, abducted at night from where her mother thought she’d be safe, by the man whom she once upon a time believed would protect her - eventually, both Winterfell and Aemond had led to her current state.

“The war is over, uncle. The realm is slowly getting back up and the lords are working towards peace once more. Must you truly be so vengeful? Undo all the work that is being done?” The anger and tension was palpable, with her not being able to contain herself. The more she spoke, the more she knew that all of what he did was unnecessary - but then again, this entire Dance was unnecessary, was it not? “Cregan is good to me. He’s a good man and he cares about Westeros, he cares about making Aegon a worthy King despite all the poor child has been through-”

“No amount of goodness can change the fact that Cregan Stark did not pledge allegiance to the rightful king.”

“The rightful king? Grandfather declared my mother the rightful heir long before Aegon was even born -”

“Before he was born! When he was born, she lost every right to the Iron Throne. A much more sensible woman would have stepped away, but my sweet sister -”

“It was HER RIGHT!”

“It was never hers and it was certainly not yours or your bastard brothers' to claim!” With words exchanged and thrown at each other like weapons, her hands had been animatedly moving about as was her habit. But she froze at those last words. She knew very well that he had too, if the sudden hitching of his breath was any indication.

He wouldn’t apologize, that much she knew. He was much too proud and condescending about his otherworldly and striking Targaryen features to apologize to her - for she knew very well what she was, even if nobody else would openly admit to it.

A bastard.

Her mind was a mess as she looked at him, at a loss for words. The spell had shifted, they weren’t bickering as they used to any longer. In the silence, a moment suspended in time, she looked at him - really, truly, looked.  

And there sat a boy. Not a battle-tested man who was now a hidden fugitive, but a boy. The boy that she’d known and loved. How much longer could they possibly hold on to grudges that neither had inflicted upon each other? The war had broken them, gotten them to drift apart - but where did it end?

Her heart ached as she beheld him, recognizing the boy she had once known beneath the bitterness and resentment that time and circumstance had piled upon him. The lines etched into his face told stories of battles fought and losses endured, but his eyes betrayed the weariness of a soul weighed down by burdens too heavy to bear alone.

He was tired. 

He was depressed, hungry for revenge and angry, but in close vicinity, as her hand reached up to let her fingertips graze over his eyepatch, she could not help but think. This was her Aemond. She’d waited for him to take her away, and in a cruel twist of fate, they ended up here.

In the dim glow of twilight, her voice, a tantalizing whisper, wrapped around him like a spell. "I haven't ever seen you without your eyepatch. You never let me." Each word, a delicate lure, tugged at something deep within her; a longing that she had never quite moved on from, but scarcely dared to acknowledge in her time away from him.

If she leaned in just a bit more, she could kiss him. Would it be wrong to? Did he want her to? What was he thinking?

His hand closed around her wrist, holding her delicate touch in place over his concealed eye. With a weary exhale, he released a breath burdened with the weight of countless battles, etched into the lines of his weathered face.

How had she gone this far without him? 

Before she let her fleetingly powerful feelings take over her, she closed her eyes and walked away. In the distance, a lone wolf's mournful howl pierced the tranquil stillness of the forest, making for a haunting melody.

Next Chapter

NO TAG LIST. Follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifs for fic updates!

[kittenintheden]

Before Morning's Light

surprise early morning Oristarion bang because I felt like it, enjoy.

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Orianna (female OC) Word Count: 750 Content: 18+, wake up from dual nightmares and then bang the demons away

***

They wake in their shared bed in the Elfsong at nearly the same moment, both panting and fighting against their nightmares’ pull. Instinctively they find one another for comfort, hands entwining and bodies pressed tight until the shakes stop, until her heartbeat slows. They rest on their sides, embracing as best they can.

It’s very early morning, judging from the way the only light in the room comes from the yellowed and washed-out streetlamps on the street below, and as they catch their breath, they meet one another’s eyes. Bleary with sleep, steeped in the terror of a receding nightmare. An understanding sort of mirror.

Ori tilts her chin forward and kisses him, softly.

The thrum of fear and anger still pulses with nowhere to go, twining along their nerves and preventing them from settling back to rest.

Their eyes flick back to one another and a current passes between them.

Ori’s hands go to his waistband as his fingers reach up underneath the hem of her sleep shirt, their movements frantic and hurried as though this can’t happen fast enough, both uncharacteristically fumbling. She makes an annoyed hiss as she grabs hold of his shirt and yanks it up to give herself more room to work.

“Who tucks their bloody shirt in when they sleep?” she grouses in a whisper as she looks down. She can see the hard ridge of his arousal straining against his thin breeches and she needs it free immediately.

Astarion’s hand is fully under her clothing now, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of her smallclothes and already pulling them down her hips with no mind whatsoever to whether he might tear the fabric. “Who doesn’t wear breeches to sleep at all?” he grumble-whispers back, bending her knee up to make it easier to get this stupid thing all the way down and over her ankle.

“Someone who plans for this exact eventuality. What in the hells is this fucking drawstring-” She pulls at it, trying to dig out the knot and prying a subdued groan from him as her nails scrape against the skin over his pubic bone.

“Get, would you get out of the-” He lifts her freed leg up over his hip and reaches between them to knock her hands out of the way so he can take over. It takes a few seconds for him to work the knot apart, and then he and she both shove them down, breeches and smallclothes together, over his arse and hips to free him. His cock springs up toward her, eager, and he thrusts between her legs without thinking, seeking her warmth.

He misses the first time, his desperation making him sloppy, and they both snipe quietly at one another until she puts a firm palm on his hip to hold him in place and rolls herself up to catch the tip of him, adjusting for angle, and gets him partway in. Then he thrusts up once, twice, and he’s inside.

They don’t even communicate the need before they each get a hand over the other’s mouth to muffle the debauched whimpering noises they make as they begin rutting with total abandon, her leg tight over his upper thigh and gripping for leverage.

Their bodies are teeming with adrenaline and nerves and need. It’s like they were already on the edge, their arousal hypersensitive and ready to burst. It’s pure, needy, unadulterated fucking, no artistry or thought behind it, only the base desire to rock and ride straight to the top.

Astarion comes first, his eyes slamming shut and his back curving with it, his moan trapped behind Ori’s fingers. His shaking free hand goes up under her clothes, flat on the small of her back as he pulses and continues to fuck into her as long as his body will let him. Close, close, close-

She cries through gritted teeth and behind her own barrier, shivering through her climax before she slows and they melt back down into the mattress beneath them. Hands drop away from mouths, chests heave for breath.

“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” Astarion whispers, eyes still shut, limbs going heavy.

Ori presses her mouth to his forehead, huffing out her breath. “That’s one way to exorcize our demons, I guess,” she breathes.

From somewhere beyond their privacy screen, they hear Gale groan, “By Mystra’s holy tits, would you two shut the nine hells up, you aren’t as quiet as you think you are. It’s not even daylight. Gods.”

 Astarion collapses into silent giggles against Ori.

“Sorry, Gale,” she whisper-yells.

[mayonnaise2004]

Clarisse La Rue meeting & dating!Child of Apollo! Reader

- Clarisse hated the children of Apollo. Most of them were; in her words ‘Wussies that are afraid of the dark.’ But when she laid eyes on you during your first day of camp, Those thoughts shifted a bit. Especially when you destroyed Luke in sword fighting.

- Congrats, you’ve gained a bit of respect from her. That doesn’t mean she won’t mess with you though.

^ Speaking of messing with, if you stand up for yourself/anyone she will hold a grudge against you. You embarrassed her!

- Clarisse is very distant about her feelings, so when that crush begins to form she will go out of her way to stay away from you.

- Poor girl is confused, why does she think you look pretty getting out of the lake!? She’s an Ares kid, she can’t be having thoughts like these!

- But of course, she couldn’t stay away from you forever. Clarisse absolutely despised how the Ares kids enjoyed sitting across from Apollos, and she especially hated how you and Percy got along so well.

- As Clarisse sat across from you, her mind began to race with the thoughts of possibilities.

- What if she did talk to you? What if she did tell you how she felt? Her mind plays the scenario again and again. She’s so tempted to go over there, So badly she wants to and when she closes her eyes and opens them again. She’s still staring, She’s still watching, She’s still so tempted.

- Her siblings (being the assholes they are) noticed this and taunted Clarisse until word got out, and eventually reached you.

- And later that night after an embarrassing confession, the two of you shared a kiss on the empty docs.

DATING HCS:

- She's not a fan of romance or intimacy, but she does enjoy having a partner who can match her energy and keep up with her adventurous personality.

^ She does show affection though, mostly through tiny trinkets she finds around camp (pebbles, leaves, and Jewellery she may or may not steal from the Aphrodite kids.)

- Going on walks through the forest

- Clarisse is a very protective person, She gets pissy if anyone she doesn’t like goes near you (including her half-siblings.)

- having to stop her from bullying new kids (*cough cough* Percy Jackson *cough cough*)

- sneaking into her cabin after nightmares (or vice versa.)

- she loves to brag about you, any major or minor accomplishments are flexed in her siblings faces.

“My s/o can do more sit ups then you.” “They beat me in a sword fight!” “They learned how to sew!”

- Constantly trying to impress you, probably says “babe! Did you see that!” Ever 5 seconds when she’s training

- peels your oranges without question

[somber-sapphic]

I’ve been laid up in bed all weekend with some chest thing. I think my body is trying to get bronchitis. I just want Maya and Carina to take care of me. Any chance you could write a Marina taking care of reader for me?

Waiting For Morning

〖Summary: Carina and Maya watch over you while you sleep.〗

〖Word Count: 795〗

〖Pairing: Marina x sick R〗

〖Notes: Hi anon! I'm sorry you're not feeling well :(. Drink lots of fluids, rest and please go to the doctor if you need to. I hope this helps you feel a little better <3〗

“Maybe we should take them in,” Maya whispered, trying very hard not to disturb you from your fitful slumber. You had finally managed to fall asleep, but it wasn’t restful in the slightest. You were still coughing even in your sleep, it was a wheezy rattling sound that took so much energy out of you. 

She had told you to keep an eye on that cold, Carina had done the same. When they had first started to fuss over you it felt so unnecessary. The common cold was something you could brush off. Until it wasn't. Something about this cold had been different, you hadn’t thought much about the clinging cough but when the fever struck you knew something was wrong. 

“No, not yet. They need to rest. We’ll keep an eye on their breathing and temperature, if it gets worse we can take them.” Carina replied, shifting ever so slightly to help you get more comfortable. She had surrendered herself as a living body pillow hours ago, abandoning the nice dinner that she had been attempting to cook. 

Maya didn’t seem convinced; her face had been pinched into a concerned expression since you had started to deteriorate and she refused to leave your side. While you clung to Carina she clung to you, worried that something would go wrong the second she took her eyes off you. 

“They’ve been getting worse!” Maya hissed, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, periodically brushing a thumb against your cheek. 

It was something she’d started to do after you’d had a nightmare and she picked up the habit after noticing how well it calmed you down. Now, whenever you were stressed, had a bad dream, or were sick she’d stroke your cheekbone and brush your hair behind your ear. The combination always worked. 

You stirred, waking to a coughing fit that just couldn’t be ignored. You curled yourself into a ball and coughed into Carina’s side, not fully aware of her surroundings. The brunette didn’t protest, she and Maya just rubbed your back and waited for the fit to pass. 

When you finally pealed your eyes open with a small sniffle you looked up into the face of the doctor who smiled back at you. For a moment you considered apologizing but you were too tired. You knew she didn’t care anyway so apologizing wouldn’t matter. 

“Hello, my love. How are you feeling?” You grunted in response and shrugged, rolling to your other side to face Maya. The blonde kissed your forehead and the tip of your nose, doing her best to make you smile. It worked, it always worked. Even when she was stressed Maya could always make you smile. 

“Time’sit?” You croaked, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. The small movement made you dizzy, and you regretted whatever urge decided that you needed to move in the first place. Your whole body hurt, your lungs aching alongside the rest of your muscles. 

“A little past two in the morning. Can you tell us how you’re feeling?” Maya asked moving closer, to help prop you up. You leaned against her and shrugged again, already letting your eyes shut for another moment.

“Not great. Why’re you guys still up?” You reached blindly for Carina, hitting her lightly until you found her hand to hold. Her hands were soft and warm in contrast to Maya’s calloused palms. The two were polar opposites, sometimes it surprised you that they managed not to kill each other at the beginning of your relationship. 

“It’s hard to sleep when someone you love is sick,” Carina said, cringing at her words. “God that was corny, wasn’t it?” Maya laughed and your lips quirked up in a smile. It was corny, but you loved it. 

“It was pretty bad.” You admitted, lowering yourself back against the pillows. This time you dragged Maya with you so that you were sandwiched more comfortably between your girlfriends. You sniffled tiredly and shivered, your discomfort reemerging. 

Carina brought the blanket up over your shoulders and Maya kissed your shoulder, both of them doing the best they could to help you feel better. 

“If you aren’t breathing better in the morning we’re going to Grey Sloan.” The brunette decided, her anxiety winning over what she knew was likely something that could clear up on its own. She was okay with being overprotective when it came to you. Maya nodded her agreement, but you had already started to fall asleep again, not noticing her reaction. 

“Get some rest for now. We’ll see how you’re doing in the morning.” The firefighter wrapped an arm around your waist, spooning you against Carina. The three of you lay like that in a warm cocoon, your girlfriends joining you in sleep only moments later. 

[igncrxntripley]

their secret weapon pt. 14

synopsis: y/n's reunited with her loves, and they all begin to see just how much of a toll being away from them has taken on her.

author's note: grab your tissues and get the hell ready for this roller coaster

mentions: poly!judgment day, fem!reader, mentions of regular wrestling violence, some illusion to feelings of anxiety and depression, overall SFW

tags: @thesithdiaries @cassiesgreta​ @roseheartsworld @theworldofotps​ @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @auburnwrites @obl1vionblackhart​ @emogoblin-666​ @hereliespumpkin​ @embertargaryen​ @neptune-lover​ @bunnysmyname @i-have-issues-lol​ @ares-athena​ @thatonepansexual2000​ @witcherfromwallachia​ @infamousvampcx​ @christinabae @kagome2909

"oh my god..." rhea had never reacted so fast to a text message. she was in bed, pajamas and all, ready to finally get some sleep after a hectic travel schedule and not having y/n home. but reading her phone for the last time before she planned to shut her eyes for the night had the eradicator jumping out of bed.

the rest of the group was scattered throughout the bedroom area; finn still deep in thought in the shower, dom fast asleep in bed already, and damian trying to make his side of the bed as comfortable as possible before hoping to be just as fast asleep as dominik. rhea getting out of bed and hurrying to slide someone's hoodie over her head was enough to wake dominik from his deep slumber, the young lucha rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "is there a fire?" he mumbled.

damian was just as confused. "rhea? babe, what's wrong?" he asked, watching the aussie hurry out of the bedroom and following closely behind. "rhea!"

"no no no no..." she was mumbling, panicking at the thought of what could have been on the other side of their front door. of course rhea wanted y/n home, they all did. but she also feared this was some sick joke. a nightmare she wasn't able to wake up from and she'd be forced to sit through the whole thing. the rain was drowning out the sound of damian's footprints rushing behind her, and a small crack of thunder sounded as she opened the door.

there stood y/n. soaking wet from the rain, shaking and trembling like a leaf, and the sight of rhea alone caused a sob to leave her lips. "m-mamí..."

"oh honey, shh," rhea tugged y/n into her arms and brought her inside the house. "i've got you, it's okay. you're home."

those words didn't feel real...none of this felt real to y/n. she'd spent the last month being ostracized from the people she loved as a form of payback. she was used as canon fodder against the judgment day, simply because she chose her own path and not what edge wanted for her. enough fear had been instilled in her that she didn't just go back home to her little family, and now that she was finally back in the safe embrace of the eradicator herself? that fear was even more rampant in her veins.

y/n was wriggling in rhea's arms, shivering and her teeth trembling as she tried to get warm. her entire body was drenched from the rain. even the warmth of rhea's body wasn't enough to make the shivering stop, and rhea realized that very quickly. "damian, dom, towels please?" she looked up at the top of the stairs, where dominik's mouth had practically dropped open with shock. "did i stutter? towels, dominik! dry clothes, blankets, anything!"

dominik snapped out of whatever trance he was in and ran into the bathroom for towels. finn was still showering, and upon hearing all of the commotion entering the steam-filled room where he was trying to process all of his emotions, he poked his head out from behind the curtain. "jeez, dom." he groaned. "it's late, what are you doing?"

the panic was written all over dom's face. "y/n..." he said, grabbing a stack of towels from a cabinet. "she's here. she came back in the rain." without another word, he left an astonished finn in the bathroom and rushed back to where rhea was holding a terrified y/n.

"i-i...i couldn't...rhea, it..." y/n could barely formulate words from how hard she was sobbing. it was hard to even distinguish what was tears and what was raindrops on her face.

rhea shook her head gently and wrapped y/n in a towel, then a blanket. "don't talk, y/n." she said softly, immediately pulling her close again to try and calm her down. "just take deep breaths for me, okay? come on, you're safe here. we've all got you."

damian, who's just finished bringing the warmest blankets in the house to where rhea and y/n were sitting together, took one of the towels from dominik and began drying y/n's hair so it would stop dripping down her back. "shh, estas en casa ahora hermosa." he said softly.

meanwhile, finn was left in a daze from dominik's words. y/n was here? she came back? how did she manage to do that? isn't she going to get in trouble? how he didn't slip when getting out of the shower was a mystery, because he got out of there as fast as he could and got dressed before rushing downstairs. the sight in front of him was one that not only broke his heart, but fueled every bit of anger that had already been permeating in his body. seeing y/n, shivering and huddled in rhea's arms as she sobbed and mumbled absolute nonsense was every reason for him to unleash absolute hell on edge.

go to her, my prince. she needs you now more than ever.

"oh, lovey..." the irishman rushed to where his girls were sat, his arms open for y/n who immediately rushed into them with another sob. "baby, what are you doing here? you know what they told you."

"i don't care!" she cried harder, hiding in his neck. "they can't keep me out of my home! t-that i pay for a-and clean and have a key to!" finn wrapped the towels around her a little tighter and she leaned into his loving touch. "no one is in charge of me but me."

all four members of the judgment day, while saddened this feud with edge and beth had gotten to this point, had to admit that there was an aspect to their princess's anger that had them feeling proud of her. the y/n they originally recruited into the judgment day probably would have never stuck her metaphorical middle finger up to her bosses or mentors. but her being in this position had forced her to dig up that buried confidence and finally put it to use.

time had passed, with all five members of this reunited judgment day sitting in the living room trying to warm up and calm down y/n until she was no longer sobbing and shivering. she'd been reduced to silent tears and the slightest trembles in her shoulders, but nothing more. more than anything, y/n was exhausted and she wanted to sleep in her own bed. "can i please go take s shower?" she asked quietly from finn's shoulder.

the prince nodded in response, damian moving the blanket and wet towels from her body as she stood up from her tight ball on the floor. "i'll put your pajamas in the dryer so they're warm for you, love."

the two walked upstairs, one of finn's arms around y/n as they went into the bathroom together. he grabbed a spare towel for the dryer as well, and gave a gentle kiss to y/n's forehead. "what else do you need, angel?" he was expecting something simple as answer from y/n; maybe her water bottle to be filled and by their bedside, or something to eat, maybe even a request for a specific member of their little family to hold her that evening or to sleep in the middle. but her words instead held a much deeper meaning.

"revenge. i want revenge."

****

monday night raw. only three weeks away from wrestlemania, the grandest stage of them all, and the judgment day only had one thing on their minds; ending this feud with edge, once and for all. for everything he did to them. for all of the chaos he put their little family through. every one of them wanted a piece of the fight, but finn ultimately was the one who'd be in that ring with the hall of famer.

edge stood in the ring, facing four members of the group who stood at the top of the ramp. they stood strong, like a solid barrier against the negativity and hurt edge had put them through. "a few weeks ago, you challenged me to a match at wrestlemania, right?" he asked finn. "and since you're not man enough to come in here and face me, you want your match at wrestlemania? fine, you got it!'

finn was hyped; he was nodding, smiling at the other man while the other members were getting just as hyped alongside him. finn had been dying for this match. he issued this challenge weeks ago, and the desire to be in a ring alone with this man was only getting bigger and bigger. the cheers of the crowd around them wasn't helping anything either.

"hey, did you hear that, dom?" the prince asked. "rhea, did you hear that? finn's going to wrestlemania! you think the beating i gave you at extreme rules was bad-" the adrenaline was pumping through his veins, he was trying his best to get through this promo without letting his hype get the better of him.

"shut your mouth!" edge's words silenced him, the crowd reacting in the canadian's favor. "for the last year of my comeback, i've wasted it on all of you." by his choice, for the most part. "the year before that, i wrestled in front of a bunch of tv screens in the thunderdome. i don't have time for this. i'm running out of time."

the irony in his words could be felt by the judgment day on an entirely different level. he had so much to accomplish that he abandoned y/n, left her in the dust in favor of his own career that had lasted twenty-plus years. sure, he was running out of time. but running out of time so fast that he had to practically forget y/n ever needed him in the first place?

the anger was pulsing through finn's body. the others could sense it, and dom put a careful hand on finn's shoulder in hopes that he'd calm down. but he couldn't stop pacing and moving as he glared deep into edge's soul from the top of the ramp.

"so the way i see it, there's only one way that this can end." edge said, holding onto the top rope as the audience also picked up on where he was going. finn was watching him carefully, his top lip twitching in anger just at the sight of him. "at wrestlemania, edge versus finn bálor, inside hell in a cell."

the audience reacted exactly how one would expect; finn stood stoic in his spot, edge was shaking with anger and adrenaline. the cheers from the crowd only fueled the two men and their respective anger.

finn was gripping his mic tight, his knuckles starting to whiten. "edge, i've been to hell before." he stated. "it spit me out because hell couldn't handle my demons. i'll see you at wrestlemania, but until then..." he looked at the other three members of the group, but what edge didn't see was what stood behind him with her own weapon of choice.

there y/n stood, coming up from her hiding spot under the ring with her own adrenaline rush. no one wanted this revenge on her mentor more than she did. no one wanted a front row seat more than her. this would be her first taste of that, as she swing her arms back and the kendo stick in her hands struck the back of the hall of famer. she hated to admit it, but there was a sense of pride as he fell to the mat and her partners began to unleash their own hell on him. y/n hit edge not once, not twice, but three times; and the yelps of pain that emanated from him sent chills down her spine.

even as the rest of the ring burst into chaos, other superstars coming out to edge's defense, she stood in front of him with her breath ragged and her palms sweating. "you're going to wish you never asked to meet the prince in the gates of hell." he'd never heard that growl to her voice or seen that ravenous look in her eyes. this was a new y/n, one that was sticking it to the people who'd caused her more pain than she'd been able to manage in her small body.

"get ready to meet the demon you created, pops."