#sorry if some have been done before......

[amoressb]

𐙚 Hairclips

pairings : emo bf!niki x coquette!reader

synopsis : in which you saw you had some cute hairclips laying around and had the perfect idea to decorate your bfs hair in them

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊˚ ⋅

You were walking around your dorm trying to find something to do. It was around 5 in the afternoon, you had a little snack and brought it to the couch in the living room.

Turning on the tv, it illuminated the small room as well as the two hairclips you left on the table. Suddenly you had an idea. Sprinting to your room, you find yourself looking for more clips and bingo! You found your drawer full of cute hairclips youve bought overtime and some your bf had gifted you.

That’s right. Niki. Your sweet loving bf.

You found it cute how he was basically the complete opposite of you. You loved all cute things and mostly stuffed animals. He on the other hand likes the complete opposite but that didn’t deter you from falling in love with him. Just then you look back at one of your plushies that remind you of him. Your badtz maru plushy. You had won it on a date you’ve recently went on with him and instantly fell in love with it as it reminded you of him. But back to the main thing here..hairclips.

You wanted him to come over quickly and what more of a perfect idea than to say that it was an emergency or that it was urgent that he come over. I mean technically you weren’t wrong..you missed him badly and you wanted to see him. So you grabbed your phone and sent the message to him.

A couple of minutes later, there was urgent knocks to your door and you ran to it knowing it was Niki. “What ha-“ was all Niki could say before he was dragged quickly to your room and sat down on the floor while you grab all the clips and sit on the bed. He was too tall to sit in the chair resulting in you having to be on your tippy toes.

“Can you tell me what-“ again he was silenced when you put your finger towards his lips smiling simply saying shhhh. You started by grabbing a pink bow of course and placed it on the side of his head clipping back his hair. You scooted back a bit and you were already in love with this idea. Immediately grabbing your phone you took a picture for memories of course and the bow was just too cute.

Many clips later, you reached the best clip of them all. Your badtz maru clip. He had been sitting there patiently waiting for you to finish. He realized a while ago that this is what was so ‘urgent’. The whole time he was admiring you and falling in love with your smile more and more as you keep adding more clips to his hair. He had his arms wrapped around your waist so you can be closer to him. He also ended up laying his head or his chin up on your lap as he was starting to slowly fall asleep to your soft touch and the cozy warm feeling he’s feeling being here with you.

Happily putting the special clip in his hair, you grabbed your phone once again to take a picture, letting you see that his eyes are closed which made it all the more cute. This was gonna be your new wallpaper for a lonng time. “I’m done my love” you say softly to him. “So this is what was so urgent huh” he sleepily chuckles. You smile as his sleepiness and softly lift his head up in your hands and melt seeing him lean into your touch. “I’m sorry it took so long” you say feeling bad that he had been stuck here for a while in the same position cuz you had that many clips. He smiled saying he didn’t mind and he was just happy to be with you.

You will say the contrast between him and the clips made it all the more perfect. He was wearing black plaid pajama pants with a black long sleeve so the pop of so much color on him with your hair clips really was perfect.

“The things i let you do to me” he says as he cuddles up to you wrapping his arms around your waist after having to sit longer just to take the clips off. You giggle into his chest and look up at him. You both looked into each others eyes not realizing you both are slowly leaning into each other. He lands a sweet kiss on your lips pulling back shortly after smiling down at you. “Goodnight y/n, i love you” he says kissing your forehead. “Goodnight Niki, i love you too” you say cuddling closer into his chest. You both fall asleep with a smile on your faces.

[shyolet]

there's been like a hundred people saying some variation of 'his dead eyed smile gave away his true nature' and so sorry to single these ones out but im annoyed at the trend

you can't meaningfully determine any information at all by the way someone smiles. you're finding excuses after the fact to justify your dislike of someone that was held before they were revealed to have done awful things

it's the same pattern that leads people to buy into 'body language experts' or whatever, and is a form of magical thinking akin to astrology that at its extremes resembles phrenology

[vivwritesfics]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Three

None of you are used to pack dynamics. Unlike then, it made you near feral. There's nothing more they want than to build you back up.

Lestappen X Reader

Chapter One Chapter Two

It all happened so fast. Max grabbed a hold of Charles and pulled him away from you, as your handler grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you away. A good thing, too. Your teeth were bared at him, ready to bite down on any inch of skin you could reach.

The muzzle was fastened over your mouth, keeping every body else safe from you. "Huh," Charles said as he struggled out of Max's grip. He looked at you, at the way your expression changed the minute the muzzle was back over your face. Eyes wide, expression guilty as you stared at him.

I'm sorry, you wanted to choke out. But you couldn't. Instead a whimper left your lips as you tried to beg for some sort of forgiveness. But Max (Max fucking Verstappen! But you could freak out about that later) stepped between you. The look he gave you was enough to shut you up.

"Come on," said your handler as she pushed you through the garage. You couldn't stop yourself from looking guilty as engineers and mechanics stared at you. They'd seen what had just happened, there was no doubt in your mind. Your gaze fell to the floor, unable to look any of them in the mind.

There was your car, your F1 car. Your status as reserve driver had been kept quiet, your seat fitted and the car set up to your liking. Your number sat on the car, number fifty-three. It was real. It was really, really real.

They were still watching you. They watched as you touched the numbers on your car, as you climbed your way inside of it and sat in your seat.

"How does it feel?" Your handler asked, leaning over the halo.

You nodded as you looked up at her. Good. It felt good. It felt right. As soon as this part of your life was over, you could finally be done.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Max pushed Charles through the garage. Through the garage and out the other side. Your focus fell back onto the steering wheel in front of you and you mimicked a lap around the circuit.

You didn't know that Max was pushing Charles into his drivers room. You didn't know just how angry he was with Charles. But you did hear as Max slammed the door shut.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Max roared, his expression furious.

Charles didn't cower at his anger. They were long past the days where Max's wrath would have his retreating to safety. "You saw her, right?" He asked and glanced at the door. "You saw how much she needs me."

"Needs you? Charlie, she went to attack you! She doesn't need you."

But Charles shook his head. "She needs me in the way you needed me, Max. She's what you would have become if you didn't let me in."

"She's dangerous."

Charles's hands were on his cheeks, holding his face. "So were you." He didn't let Max drop his chin to his chest and kissed him slowly. "What if I can help her in the way I helped you? Shouldn't I try?"

Max placed his hands over Charles's. His cold hands, cold from the can of Red Bull he had finished before he marched over, against Charles's warmer ones. "Not if it puts you in danger," he whispered, his eyes pleading. "Charles, I..."

But he couldn't say it.

"Come on," Charles said and let his hands slip away from Charles's face. "I can't top your speed in practice if you're sulking in here," he whispered and kissed Max once more.

As they walked back through the garage (Max continuing on to the Red Bull garage), there you were. Your helmet, Ferrari red and covered in sponsors, nothing personal about it, sat on your head. Acting as a muzzle, Charles realised when he looked at you.

His leg jolted, but he stopped himself from walking over to you. No, not yet. Not after what had just happened. He gave you a smile and you flipped up the visor, letting him see your eyes.

Charles got himself ready to climb into the car. All the time he wasn't wearing his helmet, he was looking at you, watching you. You, in your fireproofs, with your overalls around your hips. It suited you, everything but the helmet. The helmet looked too corporate.

You needed something personal, a design all your own.

"Tell me how she does," Charles said to Bryan before he pulled his helmet over his head.

Bryan passed him his gloves. "You worry about your own drive, okay?" He said and Charles focused his eyes forward.

Formula One was nothing like Formula Two. Everybody on the grid had forgotten it, even if they had all been in the series at some point. Most before it was called Formula Two, back when it was GP2.

There had been little preparation for your transition into Formula One. It wasn't supposed to happen yet, you were supposed to have more time. But then Carlos went and broke his damn leg and here you were.

If only he wasn't human, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation.

Your first lap was, well, terrifying. More than once you wanted to stop the car, jump out and dry heave onto the gravel. Nothing would come up, that you knew. But you kept going, keeping out of the way when the McLaren's came past.

First practice isn't about being the fastest, you told yourself.

"Next lap go," your engineer said, as if you were a dog he had taught a trick to. You gritted your teeth as you took the last corner. And then, you went for it.

It wasn't about topping the times, about being the fastest on track. It wouldn't be for you this weekend, anyway. This weekend was about getting a feel for the car you'd spend the next few weeks in. It was about bringing the car back to the garage in one piece. You didn't need to worry about scoring points or helping the team in the constructors, not this week.

But that was all you were thinking about.

Gotta go fast. Gotta score points. Gotta go fast. Gotta score points. Gotta go fast. Gotta score points. Gotta go fast. Gotta score points.

The lap felt good. Not fast, but good. But that wasn't enough, not for you. Your engineer said something, something that was met with a snarl as you went again.

"Come into the pits on this lap!" Your engineer was shouting. "Box fucking box!"

Box box. You knew that phrase, even when you weren't thinking right. But the lap was good. You couldn't abandon it, not now. "Box box, beastie."

Slamming on the brakes, you swerved into the pitlane. A dangerous move, one that would definitely see you penalised. You pitted and the car was pushed back into the garage.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Your engineer roared as he marched over to you. He gripped the halo are he stared down at you.

You were still, chest heaving as you waited to be told what to do. Waiting for your handler to come over and give you instructions. Eyes set forward, watching as Charles pulled into the pit. He wasn't there for very long, a minute at most, before he was making his way back onto the track.

"Beastie," your handler said, grabbing your attention. You looked up. Well, looked up as much as you could in the car. "Listen to your engineer. No more driving like that, okay?"

She said it so gently that you found yourself attempting to nod. Just wanting to make her happy, to make her proud of you. Her hand was suddenly on top of your helmet. "You know what happens if you disobey."

Your eyes were still focused forward and you nodded again. You weren't going to disobey again. You wouldn't dare.

When she patted your helmet, you shut your eyes. That was close to what would happen, close enough to have you moving away.

"Get back out there," she said and moved away from you. You drove out of the garage, down the pitlane and out onto the track.

You did what your engineer told you. Did a push lap when you were told and cooled down when you had to. Of course, you didn't see the wave Charles gave you when you went past, couldn't hear as he asked about you on the radio.

"How is she doing?" He asked Bryan.

"She's doing good, Charles, but concentrate on your own drive, please."

You were doing good, that was all Charles needed to know.

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[dynamightimagines]

Can you write some headcannons of Izuku, Katsuki, Denki, Kiri, and Tamaki Amajiki dating a reader whose quirk is basically her being a magical girl.

Hey hey! Sorry this one took a min! This is so cute I have just been so mf busy with work and everything in like (why is finding new health insurance so mf hard) Hope you like it!! headcannons under the tag!! (I'm switching canon a little around for a few to fit reader into the story!)

Izuku, Katsuki, Denki, Kirishima, and Tamaki with a magical girl! S/O!

Izuku Midoriya

The first time Deku had seen your quirk he was absolutely stunned.

You guys were doing the villain and hero scenario's and you had been partnered with Uraraka to stop Iida and Bakugou from taking the bomb

It was normal at first, until the bright light went off

At first Izuku thought it was Bakugou setting off a particularly big explosion, the white of the blast blinding the cameras they were watching the fight from

But as it dimmed he realized it was focused around you, and as it went away he realized why your hero costume at first was so basic

It had completely transformed, you now adorned in a cute (favorite color) outfit, complete with bows and a small staff now in your hands

You seemed to move faster, even with the complicated outfit you were dodging your enemies left and right, sending out blasts from the staff you now carried

Izuku desperately wished he had his journal right now. How did your entire outfit change? And the increase in your stamina and dexterity?

You were keeping up very well with your opponents, dodging Bakugou's blasts left and right and moving faster than Iida could reach you

You were able to keep them long enough for the timer to run out, signaling your win against the hero team

As soon as you got back to the meeting room you were flocked by everyone, all of them aweing over your new costume and how your quirk worked

Another bright flash was sent out and you were back into your normal clothes, fatigue now visibly apparent on your face

Deku offered to take you to the infirmary to rest since his trial was already done

He tried really hard, but he couldn't stop himself from throwing question after question at you, wondering how your quirk worked, its drawbacks, and what all you could do

You were happy to answer all of his questions, bashful at the idea of someone so interested in your quirk

This blossomed your friendship, and little did you know how far your relationship would go

Katsuki Bakugou

Everyone teased him for your relationship

How did he, the angriest and most volatile student in UA, get together with one of the most upbeat and sociable students?

He made everyone who knew swear up and down they'd never let it out that he was the one that fell for you first

When he first saw your quirk, he thought it was the most obnoxious thing in the world, bright lights and frills and a wand?

But the power you had, the strength and how well you wielded the quirk's possibilities was admirable

Your sociable personality bounced off of his brash one well, making you two a popular couple

He knew you could handle yourself, sitting back during training knowing you'd always kick your opponents ass

Plus, he found it absolutely hilarious to see hardened, scary villains get demolished by you in your adorable costume, like a doll beating down Godzilla

He will also never admit it, but he finds your outfit adorable

He swears it changes a little bit every now and then, morphing to your growing personality

No matter what, its a perfect personification of you, and he will never get tired of it!

Denki Kaminari

The first time Denki saw you in action he swears he died and went to heaven

We know this guy watches anime, so the fact that, right before his eyes, a beautiful magical girl is here, just for him?

Technically just for him, as you two were sparring and you were coming right at him with your staff at the ready

He didn't care if he got teased for the quickest knockout in today's class, the fact that you carried him back to the infirmary and waited for him to wake up is all he needed to see before he decided he loved you

He hits you with so many flirty comments, calling you magical and asking you if you could sweep him off his feet

Luckily for him, it worked, and you two began dating

He will never stop bragging about you, showing off your quirk and cuteness to everyone he meets, daring them to fight you just so he can see you kick their asses, and see their faces as they realize the adorable and seemingly harmless girl they dared to fight could probably send them to hell and back

If anyone makes fun of your quirk he's quick to defend you, threatening to fight whoever dares to be mean to you, even though he knows you can defend yourself

He will never get over your magical girl outfit, begging you to activate your quirk just so he can take pictures of you in it

He will beg Momo to make a replica of it so you can wear it even while not activating your quirk

You are his beautiful magical princess and he will always treat you as such!

Eijiro Kirishima

You two are such a power duo

you both are power houses in a fight, and when you're partnered you are practically unstoppable

Imagine trying to block Kirishima while you're in the back shooting blast after blast of pure power

Any opponent would be overwhelmed quite easily

If anyone doubts you because of how your quirk looks he is the first to defend you, telling whoever is being mean to you that you are probably much stronger than most macho looking guys out there

If anyone's words ever get to you and you start doubting yourself he makes sure to shower you in reassurances, telling you that despite how girly someone may think your quirk looks you are a beast on the battlefield

He would ask you to help him train, to shoot blast after blast at him to help him increase the durability of his hardening

You two are easily the most popular couple at UA, your guys' kindness and strength make everyone feel safe and appreciated

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki first noticed you when you got second place in that year's sports festival, just behind Mirio

Mirio quickly became your friend, so of course you became good friends with Nejire and Tamaki too!

You and Nejire became best friends first, two of the cutest girls in your year made you quite popular

Tamaki was very intimidated by you at first, your flashiness and power was enough to make anyone shy

But you were so nice! How could he not respond to you and hang out with you when you asked so politely, and made sure to make plans in calm places so he wouldn't be overwhelmed?

Plus Mirio loved you, so that was good enough reason for him to open up to you

You're definitely the 'leader' in the relationship, taking lead of plans and any interactions you guys had while you were out

"He asked for no pickles" type of dynamic

You thought his power was absolutely amazing, and you never failed to tell him so, even though it made him a blushing mess

You got lots of love letters, many boys and girls alike showed affection for you and it made Amajiki very self conscious

You always reassured him, promising you would never leave him for someone else

He loves you with all his might and he will never stop showing it to you

Can you tell I lost all writing capabilities and motivation half way through this LOL I love this prompt I just suck at keeping focused. Love ya!

[7ndipity]

Just found your blog and LOVE your bts headcanons so much… after having watched Are You Sure?!, I need all your NSFW headcanons for OT7 as your boyfriend… please please please 🔥

Random NSFW Headcanons

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Random spicy headcanons about the members

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex(don’t do this), breeding kinks, mentions of edging, oral(m. & f. receiving), bondage, sensory deprivation, dom/sub dynamics, somnophilia, voyeurism, idk there’s a bunch of stuff lol

A/N: You want my hcs? I’ll give ‘em, hehehe😈 Hope you like them!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin:

Okay, I’m gonna make some of y’all real happy by saying, although I still think he’s mostly switch/sub leaning, he does have a dom streak in him. Like as much as he loves letting you lead him like a puppy on a leash(sometimes literally), nothing quite gets him off the same as taking control and pounding into you until you’re his empty headed baby, only able to whimper is his name.

He’s also a big fan of sensory deprivation, both giving and receiving. Blindfolds, handcuffs, etc. He loves the heightened sensitivity that they create, turning even the lightest touches insanely intense.

Has a major thing for cumming in you that it’s bordering on a breeding kink. Like tell him that you want him to cum in you, and he’ll propose on the spot💍

Yoongi:

He’s definitely into bondage and shibari(he’s been tied up/handcuffed wayy too many times in music videos to not be, lol) tho it would take a bit of coaxing to get him to admit it. There’s just something about trying out different knots and restraint styles, both on him and you, that intrigues and excites him.

Lowkey into angry sex, but not when he’s angry with you. It’s more those days when he comes home frustrated from the studio and he just wants to scream, so he makes it his mission to make you scream instead, hehe.

Has recorded himself getting off for you and thought about sneaking it into the background sounds of one of his Agust D tracks(might have actually done it, but he won’t admit it bc he’s a menace and likes to fuck with your head, so you’re just sat listening to every little detail on his demos, lol)

Hobi:

This boy is a certifiable freak, you cannot convince me otherwise. Like except for a relatively small list of hard no’s, he’s open to playing around and testing out pretty much any sort of kink/scenario that you might be interested in.

Lowkey very into the idea of watching you fuck one of his friends rapline whats up?, guiding them on just how to touch you, watching the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, just to turn around and fuck you into oblivion afterwards.

Man adores having his head between your thighs and actively begs you to ride his face. And don’t even think of arguing that you’re too heavy or whatever, bc he’ll spend the next hour worshiping your body and showering you with so much praise that you won’t be able to think, let alone remember any of your insecurities🫠

Namjoon:

Although we’ve established he’s definitely more of a daddy dom, he definitely has a weakness for you taking the lead or being on top(“pro rider, hohohoho rider” I had to, I'm sorry). Something about him being under you, watching the way your body moves on top of his, feeling the way you take him so perfectly, just makes his brain go hazy🤤

Idk if he’s fully aware that it’s a kink/thing, but he’s definitely into temperature play. Ice cubes, hot wax, even just blowing cool air over his skin makes him tingly in all the right ways. 

He loves to tease you at the worst moments. Like you could be on phone with a friend or whoever, and he’ll let his hands start to ghost along your arms, down your sides, across your chest, between your thighs… seeing just how long it takes before your voice and focus start to waver, quickly hanging up and giving him your full attention

Jimin:

*cough*ropebunny*cough* Sorry, what?

No but fr, he loves being tied up in different pretty styles of shibari, but he treats it like an art form, with different silk ropes and ribbons. He wants to feel pretty and treasured, caressed with soft voices and sweet words, regardless of if you’re teasing and edging him to tears.

Lowkey into semi-public sex, teasing you at dinner with his friends with his hand creeping along your thigh under the table till you’re squirming and begging him to find an excuse for you both to be excused for a minute. Dude will fully have you shaking and seeing stars and then walk out of the bathroom like nothing happened.

Definitely the biggest fan of aftercare out of all the members, like he treats it as more of a sensual spa night for the two of you; candlelit baths together, gentle massages to work out any tense muscles, cuddling in bed that might turn into cockwarming or a very sleepy round two... 

Taehyung:

Definitely into taking photos of the two of you, both on his phone and on his retro film cameras. Man turned his guest room into his own studio/darkroom and learned how to develop film by himself so that no one else but you would see his artwork.

Loses his goddamn mind every time you go down on him. Like if you ever wanna make his mind go completely blank, all you have to do is let him feel your warm, wet mouth close around his length, and he’s absolute putty in your hands.

Feel like he’s very into lingerie, both for you and himself. He loves feeling like a pretty present for you to open and play with, and vice versa. You literally came home on your birthday to him waiting for you in some pretty little silk number with a bow on his head as your gift.

Jungkook:

Although I’ve said before he’s a dom leaning switch, when he subs, he lets go completely. He loves letting his mind shut off and being at your mercy, letting you take control and turning him into a needy whining mess. 

For the similar reason, he has a major dumbifacation kink, both giving and receiving. He loves the idea of being fucked to the point that your mind goes completely blank and all you can think and focus on is how you make each other feel.

Definitely has a thing for somnophilia, again both giving and receiving. The thought of touching and teasing each other, your bodies reacting purely out of instinct, seeing how long it takes for you to wake up so that you can fuck each other properly, the whole thing makes him crazy. His favorite way to wake up, 5 stars, highly recommend🤭

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[buckevantommy]

What about all of this is real? We are.

This is not how they end. 

It hasn’t even been a week but it feels like a fucking eternity. It’s not the first time Buck’s been dumped, not the first time someone has walked out on him when he wanted more, but it’s the worst heartache he’s ever felt and he knows– he knows it’s because this isn’t how things are supposed to go for them. 

He’s done feeling sorry for himself. He’s not giving up on Tommy, on what they have together. 

And he doesn’t think Tommy is done with them, either. 

* 

The drive to Tommy’s house isn’t fast but it passes in a blur; between the peak hour traffic and usual gridlock he has plenty of time to ruminate on everything he wants to say, and all the arguments Tommy can throw at him and all the ways Buck can rebut them. 

Pulling into the drive, he doesn’t notice the unfamiliar car parked next to Tommy’s truck. He’s walking up the front path and knocking with insistent force before he even registers leaving the jeep. He’s on a mission. 

Soon as the door opens Buck is barging his way inside. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me or how I feel!” 

With a resigned, if somewhat bitchy sigh, Tommy mutters, “Come on in,” and closes the door behind him. 

“I know how I feel about you and it isn’t some passing infatuation, Tommy– I love you!” He goes harder than he means to, and heavier on the blame, but he thinks he gets the main points across. 

Tommy stares at him for a moment, not saying anything. Buck starts getting restless again. If Tommy has nothing to say to that then Buck has plenty more. He gears up to lay the rest of his cards on the table–

When someone clears their throat behind him. 

Buck whips around to find a strange man standing in Tommy’s living room, beer bottle in hand. 

“Oh.” A pang of something ugly lances through Buck’s heart. “Guess you moved on faster than I did,” he mutters darkly.

The mystery man cracks a humorless laugh. “Not fucking likely.” 

Buck doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Sal Deluca,” the man says, stepping forward and extending his hand. Buck takes it, incandescent jealousy and the throbbing heartache that’s made breathing difficult all week making way for a numb sort of recognition. He’s heard mentions of Sal, and the face clicks with some old photos he’s seen in Tommy’s photo albums; because Tommy’s old school like that and has printed photos in physical albums people can flip through. Sal is an old friend of his who moved away years ago. “Worked with this lug back at the 118,” he says. “And we are not boning or romancin’ each other.” 

Buck catches Tommy rolling his eyes. 

“In fact, I’m in town for the first time in almost a year and what do I find? This idiot throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to him.” 

“Sal.” 

Sal ignores Tommy’s warning tone, trains his eyes on Buck, his voice pitched low and sincere. “I don’t even know you, but I know that much.” 

He leaves with a clap to Tommy’s shoulder and something muttered that sounds like, “Don’t screw this up again,” and then he’s out the door. 

“You should go,” Tommy says quietly, when it’s just the two of them standing there, too far apart.

Now that Buck gets a better look at him, Tommy looks tired. Ragged. Like he hasn’t slept in a week. Buck can relate. “No.”

“Buck–”

“Don’t you dare.” He tries sounding fierce but it just comes out broken. He’s never been ‘Buck’ to Tommy and he sure as hell doesn’t wanna start now. That name means they’re over, and he’s not letting that happen without a fight. “I said, I love you.”

“I heard you.”

“And, what? You don’t believe me? Or you think I’m too dumb to know when I’m in love with someone?”

“I never said that–”

“I’ve been in love before, Tommy– more than once. And just because they were women and you’re the first guy I fell for doesn’t make what I feel any less real!” 

“But it doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”

He sounds tired, too. Like maybe he’s been up all night every night thinking about them. Maybe he leaned on Sal like Buck’s been leaning on Eddie; a good friend who lets you pour your heart out until there’s nothing left but a hollow ache in your chest, drained eyes and confusion. 

But the worst part is how resigned he seems, like it’s over and there’s nothing to be done about it. There’s a lot Tommy hasn’t thought through properly. 

“I may be new to being bisexual, but that doesn’t mean my heart is new. And frankly, it’s pretty insulting of you to assume I don’t know what I’m feeling, or how I’ll feel months or years from now.” 

That seems to land like a blow, Tommy’s already creased brow pinching as he looks away. “You don’t have experience with men–” 

And that fucking does it. “I’m not a kid, Tommy! I don’t need you to tell me what I need! And I’m not any of those guys who hurt you– doesn’t matter if they were gay, or bi, or whatever!” Buck wants to yell at him some more: call him a coward, an asshole for predicting the worst in people.  

Tommy shakes his head. He still doesn’t look at Buck.

“You don’t get to just end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works– we’re supposed to talk about it.” It’s been a constant in their relationship: talking things through. It’s the first relationship Buck’s had with such an open and honest line of communication, and there’s no way he could go back to anything else. 

Tommy looks up, then, and meets Buck’s gaze. His eyes are watery and his words come out choked. “I don’t want to end this.” 

“Then don’t,” Buck pleads, daring to close a bit of the distance between them. 

Tommy pulls back. Not far, and not much with his feet, more with his shoulders, but it’s enough to make Buck’s heart sink. 

Because Tommy is denying himself – like that night before he first kissed Buck and changed his life for the better; he was so hesitant to believe that he was part of their team, too – he’s not letting himself have something good because he doesn’t think he deserves it, doesn’t think it’s real. “We’re not too good to be true.”

“What?” 

“You said that, about the parking space,” Buck recalls. He’s run the conversation over in his head a thousand times since that night.

“That’s.. not what I meant.” Tommy seems less convinced by his own words, now. 

“Every other relationship I’ve had has fallen apart because I didn’t see the end coming,” Buck admits. “Because we weren’t compatible. And part of me was worried with you, at first, because I’d always been the one who ends up alone.” It’s painful to think about, to think Tommy could be just another in a long line of people Buck wore his heart on his sleeve for but who didn’t want him as much in return. “But you kept proving to me over, and over that you were there for me, and you wanted me around, and you didn’t think I was too much.” Buck has to swallow around the desperate rasp coming through in his voice now. He blinks to keep his vision clear.

There’s something there, then: a look on Tommy’s face telling him plainly that he could never be too much for him, that that’s not what this about. And there’s something else familiar, too: fear. The same glimpse of fear Buck saw that night before Tommy walked out on him. The same kind of fear Buck’s seen in the mirror his whole life. 

Tommy’s afraid they won’t last. 

Tommy’s afraid he’s not enough. 

“Please don’t think like that,” Buck pleads again. “Like there’s an expiration date for us.” 

“I can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can!” Buck erupts again, frustrated with how willing Tommy is to just roll over and let their relationship die. “Just believe in us! Tell me what I have to do to get you to believe how serious I am about you– how much I care about you, and see you for who you are, and want all of you for as long as possible.” 

Tommy shakes his head, eyes downcast, and Buck can’t take it anymore– he closes the remaining distance between them. Stands toe to toe with Tommy, proximity alone silently demanding he listen to what he has to say.

“Hey,” he says softly, but with that same dogged determination that’s been distilled over the years into something less reckless and more mindful. He curls a finger under Tommy’s chin, gently nudging it up until he looks at him. 

There’s armor in place, but Tommy’s peeking through. And he hasn’t moved away. He hasn’t given up, not completely. He needs Buck to fight for them, to know they’re worth fighting for. Maybe then he’ll finally believe they can make it.

“I love you. I’ve been searching my whole life for a love like this, so don’t tell me this isn’t real– I know how I feel,” Buck insists, then calms. “And I think you feel the same.” 

“Evan–”

“You don’t get to end this because you’re scared. That’s not how this works. And I’m not giving up on us. So you can fight me, or you can fight for us.” 

Tommy exhales a shaky breath, averting his eyes again. Buck can see the tears making them wet, tracking down his cheeks as he ducks his head. He can hear them in the way Tommy’s voice wavers. “You think too highly of me, kid.” It’s not a jab, the name. Tommy’s protecting his vulnerable underbelly. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Tommy takes a beat. “I want to,” he confesses, quiet in the small space where their bodies don’t touch, could touch but not yet; he’s holding his breath. 

Buck braces himself. “Do you love me?” It’s a simple question, one he’s pretty sure he knows the answer to. But those few seconds before Tommy speaks are nerve wracking as hell and long enough for a thread of doubt to try to weave its way back into his mind – the same doubt he’d finally quashed before he jumped in his jeep and drove across town: what if he read this all wrong? What if Tommy doesn’t actually love him? His own breath catches painfully in his lungs; he’s on a precipice, heart balanced for a freefall that could see him plummet to the ground, or.. or spread wings, and.. fly. 

Tommy lifts his head, his beautiful eyes rimmed red and making his irises that much bluer by contrast. “Evan, I’m so in love with you,” he breathes out; a sigh of anguish, like truth and painful honesty, airing grievance out into the world so that it might ease the weight sitting on his chest, the kind that makes it hard to breath, hard to exist. “You’ll be the death of me, kid.” 

It’s not the first time he’s said that, although the other times were under very different circumstances. But it was always playful, and Buck can see the words for what they are now: a defense mechanism. Buck’s heart aches for him, but Tommy’s admission also sets something aglow in his own chest, something warm and pure and precious. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do know it. We’ve both been hurt before– but we don’t need to hurt each other. And, I get it– you were trying to protect yourself when you walked out on me that night.”

Tommy moves to turn away, ends up just shuffling in place. He still wants to be close to Buck. 

“Why can’t we just try? ‘Cause if you think you’re the only one who’d be heartbroken if this doesn’t work out, you’re wrong.” He’s realized some things this past week: he doesn’t adhere to whatever bullshit stereotype there is about men who are bi or people who come to terms with their queerness later in life – he doesn’t need to play the field or experiment or whatever crap Tommy tried to pass off as reason enough to justify his fears. He also realized that he loves Tommy – more than he’s ever loved anyone, more than he thought was possible to love someone but maybe always secretly hoped was in his future, even when that dark voice in his head tried to convince him no one would ever love him as much. 

But Tommy does. Tommy loves him so much the thought of Buck breaking up with him scared him into ending things before he could get his own heart broken. But what he feels for Tommy isn’t some kind of puppy love or something he’ll grow out of or get bored of; it’s real, and Tommy thinking he’s not enough, that he’s not forever-kind-of-love material doesn’t dissuade Buck any; he’s intimately familiar with issues of self worth.

Whatever insecurities Tommy has about being someone’s last love doesn’t apply to Buck. “You’re enough, for me. You’re everything, actually. Everything I ever wanted and more I didn’t know I could want.” 

A heavy moment passes between them where Buck sees his words sink in. They seem to weigh Tommy down, even more. 

He wants so badly to reach out, to speak the words into his mouth, press them into his skin until Tommy can’t deny how real they are because he’ll feel them with every breath, every movement.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Tommy admits, voice soft and more vulnerable than Buck’s ever heard it. “I can’t lose you, Evan. If you ask me to try, and then–” he cuts himself off, shakes the thought away, tries to barricade himself back behind his armor. 

Maybe Buck can’t fully understand Tommy’s fear because he hasn’t experienced what he has, but he knows what it’s like to try and fail, to love and be left. But the two of them are on the same page this time – for everything that matters – not reading from separate books like Buck and all of his exes. “Did I ever tell you about Thomas and Mitchell?” 

“Um, no. I don’t think so. Friends of yours?” Buck can see Tommy’s still raw, still hiding, but he goes along with it, gives him the opening, like he’s always done.

“No, they uh.” Buck swallows, the memory still affects him even all these years later. “They were an elderly gay couple I met on a call a few years back. Well, I met Thomas. Sat with him after he watched his husband die.” 

Tommy tries to look unimpressed with having to listen to a sad story – he’s more of a romcom guy; lighthearted storylines and happy endings, Buck knows – but his face crumples a bit in sympathy. 

“He said, Mitchell was his heart, and that they wanted to go together. I could see how heartbroken he was, and the thought of loving someone like that and then losing them? I couldn’t imagine what that must be like.” 

Tommy doesn’t say it but Buck can almost hear his gently snarky tone: we’re not dead, Evan. He can see the words held back behind the purse of Tommy’s lips. 

“I told him I hoped to find a love like that some day. And he told me something I’ve carried with me ever since.” Tommy searches his face, and Buck feels the truth of Old Thomas’ words in this moment. “He said: you don’t find it, you make it.” 

Tommy blinks. “Are you saying you want to grow old with me?”

Buck can’t help his smile; it’s the first real one he’s had because of Tommy all week– one not tinged in pain and regret. There’s the Tommy he knows and loves. “I’m saying, I want to make it with you. Because these past six months have been the best of my life, Tommy. And I realized it’s because I found you– my person– and I want to make a future with you.” 

And there’s that tentative smile – the same one Tommy wore on their makeup coffee date all those months ago when he gave Buck a second chance. 

They deserve a second chance, now. They deserve to try. 

“I can’t move in with you,” Tommy settles on, and it sounds like a but, like: I can’t move in with you, but I want to be with you. 

Buck shakes his head before Tommy even finishes. “That’s okay, we don’t have to live together.” He knows the unspoken yet doesn’t go unnoticed for the way Tommy’s narrowed eyes assess him. There’s no use hiding it. “I do want to live with you, some day. I want to build a life with you. But, we can take it slow.”

“I don’t think ‘slow’ is in your repertoire.” It’s a joke. Tommy’s smile is less fragile, his armor lowered. 

Buck smiles again, hopeful; Tommy’s coming out of hiding. 

He reaches out, fingertips grazing Tommy’s, his movements unhurried. Tommy lets him tangle their fingers together. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Tommy says, “Okay.” 

Buck’s falling, diving, soaring. And he’s not alone. “Would a kiss be out of the question right now?” 

That crinkly smile that Buck loves so much finally makes its return, creasing around Tommy’s eyes like rays of sunshine. He didn’t realize just how much he missed the sight of Tommy’s joy until he’s faced with it head on, bright and gorgeous. He feels nourished in its presence, especially knowing he’s the cause of it. He thinks it’s okay to be a little proud of that. 

Tommy kisses him. Oh– this.. he’s missed this: the press of Tommy’s lips on his, his stubble scraping against Buck’s skin– catching on Buck’s own scruff. He slides a hand up Tommy’s chest, feeling the warm, toned bulk of him. Hooks his fingers around Tommy’s neck to pull him in more, bring their bodies flush, slip his tongue into Tommy’s mouth and get a proper taste of him.

One of Tommy’s large hands fits tentatively to Buck’s hip, one last show of hesitance. Buck disentangles their fingers and covers both of Tommy’s hands, moving them to rest heavier, grip him firmly, with no room for uncertainty.

“No more running away,” Buck murmurs, nose brushing alongside Tommy’s. He feels more than sees Tommy shake his head.

“No more running,” he agrees, following with another lingering kiss that’s begging to be deepened.

Buck breaks it to add: “We’re in this together.” 

Tommy nods. “I’m with you.”

It’s not how he thought their first love confessions would go, but they’ll be stronger for it, he knows that much. And he knows Tommy loves him. And Tommy knows Buck loves him in return. And that’s a pretty good starting place for a second chance. 

[fuctacles]

<<😺😺😺😺😺😺😺

"Yes? Hello, officer? There's a man in my apartment." 

Eddie stirs awake, his surroundings coming back to him in hazy waves.

"What?" he slurs out, blinking to clear his vision.

"Oh, I was just telling the officer that I've found a man sleeping on my couch," Stephanie says with a troubled expression, hovering over him.

Over the couch that he fell asleep on.

He sits up so suddenly he loses his balance and falls back against the cushion.

"I'm so sorry, please don't call the cops—!"

Stephanie immediately shakes her hands, which are free of a phone.

"I was joking, I was joking!" she reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry." She smiles apologetically, taking a seat next to him. "I guess that wasn't the best way to wake up someone." 

"No," Eddie chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially not an ex-drug dealer," he huffs dryly. 

Steph cocks her head with a surprised "huh" and only then does Eddie realize what he has just blurted out. 

"Ah, shit. Am I ruining my good neighbor status?" he winces.

"Not at all," Steph shakes her head, and gently pats his knee. He zeroes his focus on her hand when she decides to rest it there on his jean-clad leg. 

"I know my nice neighbor Eddie, not the drug dealer one," she smiles reassuringly. "What made you turn around? If you don't mind me asking," she squeezes his knee and retrieves her hand to lean back more comfortably on the couch. One of her cats, Garfield, jumps on her lap for a greeting, and Eddie realizes she's still wearing her jacket. He looks at the clock on the wall and realizes it's almost midnight. 

"Sorry, I'm holding you back, you're clearly tired," she backtracks quickly, watching his eyes dart around. But Eddie shakes his head.

"Nah, I just took an invigorating nap." She laughs at that and he can't help but smile as well. "I'd assume you're tired after traveling."

"I took an invigorating nap on the bus," she smiles, petting her cat. Arwen finally decides she's not above greeting her human and jumps in next to her as well, occupying Stephanie's other hand. 

Eddie reminds himself not to get jealous of felines.

"I managed to graduate," he says and when Steph looks at him in confusion, he adds: "I dealt in high school to save money for my band, thought that was my only route. But then I did graduate, on my third try, and the art teacher pulled some strings, asked around, and told me I could go study music. The guys forced me to go for it," he smiles at the memory. "My band, I mean. They said at least one of us should know some theory," he chuckles. 

"That's very nice of them," Stephanie comments. 

"Yeah. The bastards followed me after high school too." He grins. 

"And I still haven't heard your music," she sighs wistfully. 

"I'll bring a tape next time," he promises. 

"You better."

They sit in silence for a while, only the cat's purring filling the night ambiance. 

"Want some tea?"

"I guess I should go."

They speak over each other, eyes wide when they meet awkwardly. They chuckle, and Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.

"Or I can get us a beer? Since you're not an old lady," she offers, spotting the empty bottle on the table. "Unless you really need to go."

"Beer sounds good. Considering there are no old ladies here," he smiles charmingly, daring her to protest. 

Steph doesn't say anything, only rolls her eyes and gently nudges Garfield from her lap onto the couch cushions. She scratches Eddie's head when she passes, thankfully missing the way it causes his whole body to shiver. 

"Won't your uncle be worried where you are?" she asks from the kitchen, giving Eddie the space he needs to collect himself. 

"I told him I'd wait for you," he answers, scratching Garfield and trying to forget how good it felt when done to him. "Also, I don't have a curfew anymore. Never had, in fact. Not with Wayne."

"Lucky you." She steps back into the room, handing him a chilled bottle. "How long have you been living with him?"

"Since high school," he answers before taking a swig. "Spent a short time in a halfway house before that. My parents couldn't handle me anymore, but they managed to reach my uncle and he took me in."

"The hell do you mean 'couldn't handle you'?" Steph asks with a frown.

Eddie chuckles at her immediate offense.

"They got into legal trouble, and couldn't afford the house anymore, I think my dad spent some time in prison too. Tax fraud and shit, never cared enough to dig into it and Wayne doesn't like talking about them either. He's a better parent they'd ever be anyway."

"Yeah," Steph softens. "I'd love to have had someone like him back in the day." Then, she deflates with a sigh. "Though even the nicest people can turn out to be bigots. Not Wayne, of course!" she rushes to add. "He knows about Robin and he's really cool about it." 

Eddie sees his opening and feels comfortable enough to use it finally. 

"He better be, since his nephew is bisexual," he says with a little huff. 

"He is?" Steph picks up curiously. 

"Yeah," Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly sheepish. "Turned out I wasn't watching Indiana Jones for the plot."

"I think that sweaty chest is plot enough," she says and they both laugh.

"Have you dated a guy, then?" Stephanie asks next. 

"Only one for real," Eddie admits. "But it's not like I've dated many girls either, though it is easier."

"A young bachelor like you?" Stephanie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You should be swarming with marriage proposals, the way your uncle describes you."

Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the cushions. 

"What nonsense is he telling about me?"

"Only that he has a talented, smart boy in Indy, who's always helpful and protective of his friends and family. Also, he has really frizzy hair."

"Excuse me?"

Eddie picks up his head to look at Stephanie. She's suddenly closer than before, rubbing a lock of his hair between her fingers. 

"When was the last time you had your hair done?"

"Uh." He looks between her hand and her face like he'll find the answer there. "Never? Probably? At least not that I remember."

Stephanie's mouth purses with displeasure. 

"I can fix them for you. For taking care of my cats."

Eddie wants her hands in his hair so badly, but he raises his beer like a dumbass. 

"But I already got a beer," he points out. 

She shakes her head. 

"I share beers with friends for less. I'd usually buzz Wayne too, and you'd be doing me a favor because I can't focus with your split ends right in my face."

She's really playing it up, pout and all, and unfortunately, it's working on him. 

But he'd probably do anything she asked for. 

"Then, uh... Sure, I guess."

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Run for the Hills

Prologue

Jack Hughes X F!Reader

a.n: This is definitely not one of the anticipated chapters you guys want but I'm trying to get myself back into writing, so I made a new fic to try out and see where it goes for now.

Warnings: cursing, bad jokes, frat boy humor

Word Count - 3k

The only sound in the room was her soft breathing and the occasional scratch of paper from her novel. She was so engrossed in the page, a daydream she lost herself inside that the outside world paled in comparison to.

Y/n licked her finger and flipped the page and settled deeper into the couch where she had burrowed herself into for the last three hours. The silence in the room was shattered as the front door crashed open, sending a gust of wind whipping through Y/n's hair as she looked up from her book in surprise.

"Get up and help me!" her roommate shouted, staggering through the doorway with her arms full of overstuffed grocery bags.

Y/n hurriedly marked her page and set the novel aside, springing up from the couch just as one of the flimsy bags gave way, sending a cascade of canned goods and produce tumbling to the floor with a cacophony of clatters and thuds.

"Oh no, let me help!" Y/n rushed over, kneeling down to scoop up the fallen items as her roommate kicked the door shut behind her.

"I didn't realize you'd be back so soon," Y/n said breathlessly, glancing up at her roommate's harried expression. "What's the hurry?"

Her roommate let out an exasperated sigh, shifting the remaining bags in her arms. "I ran into an old friend downtown and got roped into helping her move some furniture. I was supposed to be back an hour ago but it took forever." She shook her head, shooting Y/n an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for the mess - can you grab those last few cans while I get the rest of this put away?"

Y/n nodded quickly, grabbing the stray items and following her roommate to the kitchen. With her roommate's unexpected return and the sudden chaos, the quiet solitude of her novel-induced daydream already felt like a distant memory. “So, what did you do today? Any plans? Any new boys?” Alyssa suggested slyly.

Y/n thought for a second as she filled the empty shelves with cans. “No boys and no plans, not that its anything new.” She replied honestly, almost embarrassed to admit it. A beat of silence followed. “Actually, I’ve realized I prefer fictional men as company,” she added with a laugh.

"Ugh, boring. Why'd I even bother asking?" Alyssa groaned, dramatically throwing her head back. She paused mid-eye roll, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Wait. This is perfect actually. The Bruins are playing tonight."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, failing to see the connection. "And that matters because...?"

"Because," Alyssa drawled, hopping onto the counter with the grace of someone who'd clearly done this a thousand times before, "every basic bro in the city will be glued to their TV screens. Which means..." She drummed her perfectly manicured nails against the granite, building suspense.

"Which means?"

"The good bars will be practically empty! Come on, Y/n. When's the last time you wore that little black dress that's been collecting dust in your closet? The one with the slit that makes your legs look incredible?" Alyssa's eyes sparkled with possibility. "I know for a fact that new cocktail bar downtown, Luna, will be dead tonight. We could actually get seats at the bar, maybe talk to the cute bartender I've been eyeing—"

"Alyssa—" Y/n started to protest, but her roommate was already in motion, sliding off the counter and grabbing Y/n's shoulders.

"No excuses! Your book boyfriend will still be there tomorrow. Tonight, we're trading fictional men for real ones. And I'm not taking no for an answer." She gave Y/n a gentle shake. "Besides, I have tea to spill about that furniture-moving friend I mentioned. Trust me, you're going to want to hear this story over a proper martini."

…

Y/n stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror while Alyssa worked her magic with a curling iron, fighting the urge to retreat to her book. The truth was, it wasn't just that she preferred fictional men – real ones had become disappointingly predictable. Every dating app conversation felt scripted, every bar interaction a tepid reproduction of the last. She'd grown tired of pretending to be impressed by startup jobs and fantasy football leagues, of dumbing herself down to stroke fragile egos.

"Earth to Y/n!" Alyssa's voice cut through her thoughts. "Are you ignoring me? Anyway, I’m done! Look at my handy work and tell me you don’t look hot."

Y/n had to admit, the black dress did look good, hugging curves usually kept hidden behind work attire. But even as they walked into Luna, even as heads turned to track their entrance, she felt that familiar emptiness creeping in. What was the point? No one ever made her pulse race, made her wonder what they'd say next, made her want to chase the high of their attention.

Three hours and several expertly crafted cocktails later, Y/n was actually enjoying herself – though that had everything to do with Alyssa's company and nothing to do with the parade of predictable men who'd approached their corner of the bar. She'd perfected the art of polite dismissal, sending them away with practiced smiles that never quite reached her eyes.

The bass pulsed through Luna's speakers as Y/n nursed her martini, watching Alyssa hold court at their corner of the bar. Three guys in button-downs – clearly fresh from some financial district happy hour – had been hovering nearby for the past ten minutes, shooting what they probably thought were subtle glances their way.

"Here we go," Y/n muttered under her breath, catching the familiar look of determination cross the tallest one's face as he finally worked up the courage to approach.

"Ladies," he announced, spreading his arms wide like he was presenting a TED talk. "My colleagues and I couldn't help but notice you've been drinking alone." He gestured to his friends, who flanked him with identical smirks. "We thought we'd fix that tragedy."

Alyssa straightened, flashing her practiced giggle. "Oh my god, that's so sweet of you!"

"I'm Brad," the ringleader said, then pointed to his friends who y/n couldn’t help but notice both had no socks on with their loafers. That was just the first of many icks she received that night. "This is Chase and..." he faltered for a moment, "...Tyler."

Y/n bit back a laugh. The third guy – apparently Tyler – looked slightly offended that Brad had to think about his name.

"Let me guess," Y/n said suppressing a giggle, unable to help herself. "You all work in finance?"

"Investment banking, actually," Chase jumped in, puffing up his chest. "We just closed a huge deal. Brad here's basically a genius with emerging markets."

"Bro, stop," Brad said with fake modesty, though he was clearly pleased. "But yeah, it was pretty impressive. The partners were blown away by my analysis of the—"

"The Asian markets?" Y/n finished dryly. "Let me guess, you're really into crypto too?"

The sarcasm flew right over their heads. "Holy shit, how did you know?" Tyler exclaimed. "I've got this sick NFT collection—"

"Oh my god, that's fascinating!" Alyssa cut in, shooting Y/n a warning look. "Tell us more about it!"

Brad moved closer to Y/n, mistaking her eye roll for interest. "You know, you look like a girl who appreciates ambition. I just got promoted to junior VP, and my bonus this year..." He trailed off suggestively.

"Fascinating," Y/n deadpanned. "Do you also have a podcast?"

"Actually..." All three of them lit up simultaneously.

"It's about mindset and grinding—" Chase started. "—and disrupting traditional paradigms—" Brad added. "—with a focus on sigma male energy," Tyler finished proudly.

Alyssa was doing her best to appear enthralled, but even she couldn't completely hide her wince at that last part.

"We should totally collab," Brad continued, edging even closer to Y/n. "I bet you'd love to hear about my morning routine. I wake up at 4 AM to meditate and do cold plunges—"

"Wow," Y/n interrupted, finishing her drink in one gulp. "That's incredibly..." she searched for a word that wouldn't entirely crush their spirits, "...consistent of you."

"Right?" Brad beamed, completely missing her tone. "Hey, you should check out my Instagram. I post daily inspiration quotes over pictures of wolves. The engagement is insane."

Y/n felt her soul trying to leave her body. She caught Alyssa's eye, silently pleading for an escape route, but her roommate was already deep in conversation with Chase and Tyler about their "entrepreneurship mindset course."

"Look," Brad said, lowering his voice to what he clearly thought was a seductive tone. "I don't usually do this, but I sense a real connection here. You're not like other girls."

"Oh god," Y/n muttered under her breath.

"You're obviously on that grindset wavelength. I could tell by your aura. So what do you say we—"

Y/n opened her mouth to answer when her phone lit up with her sister's ringtone. "Saved by the bell," she laughed, grabbing her phone. "I should take this – back in five!"

She headed for a quieter corner near the back of the bar, weaving between groups of people. The phone was still buzzing in her hand when someone slammed into her from behind, nearly sending her face-first into the wall. Strong hands caught her waist, steadying her, but instead of immediately letting go, they lingered – warm and sure against the thin fabric of her dress.

"Shit, I'm so sorry—" a voice said above her, close to her ear, low and touched with amusement. "Though I've gotta say, this isn't the worst collision I've had tonight."

Y/n turned, ready to deliver the kind of cutting remark she'd perfected over years of unwanted bar encounters – but the words died in her throat. The man still holding her wasn't anything like the finance bros she'd just escaped. He was tall, dressed in dark jeans and a perfectly fitted black henley that did nothing to hide the athletic build underneath. He was looking at her not with the desperate eagerness of Brad and his crew, but with an almost lazy confidence that made her pulse quicken.

"You can let go now," she said, finding her voice. "Unless you make a habit of holding onto strange women in bars?"

His hands slid from her waist, slowly, deliberately. "Only the ones who look like they're plotting escape routes." The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Though I can't blame you, if you were running from those walking LinkedIn profiles I saw you with earlier."

"You were watching me?" Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised by the little thrill that shot through her at the thought.

"Hard not to. You looked about ready to commit murder when the one in the blue started talking about his morning routine." He leaned against the wall, creating a bubble of space that felt separate from the rest of the bar. "I'm Jack. And you're definitely too interesting to be stuck listening to cryptocurrency bros all night."

"Interesting?" she challenged, surprising herself by stepping slightly closer. "You don't know anything about me."

His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. “I know you're intrigued right now, even though you're trying not to show it."

Heat crept up her neck at his directness. He wasn't wrong, but she wasn't about to let him know that. "That's a lot of assumptions from someone who's spent the last five minutes running away from his own problems."

"Running away?" He laughed, and the sound did something to her insides. "More like making a strategic retreat. Though I'll admit, diving behind the bar wasn't my smoothest move."

"Do I want to know why you were diving behind bars?"

"Depends." He shifted closer, just enough that she had to tilt her head back slightly to maintain eye contact. "How do you feel about blind dates, sports journalists, and elaborate escape plans?"

"That sounds like the start of either a very good story or a very bad lie."

"Buy me a drink and find out?" The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. "Unless you'd rather go back to hearing about sigma male energy and cold plunges?"

Y/n felt herself teetering on the edge of something dangerous. Jack wasn't like the others – there was something magnetic about him, something that made her want to push back, to see what would happen. He carried himself with the easy confidence of someone used to getting what he wanted, but there was something else there too – a spark of genuine interest when he looked at her that made her skin tingle.

"Counter offer," she said, meeting his intensity with her own. "You tell me the story first, and I'll decide if it's worth buying you that drink."

His smile turned wolfish. "I like the way you negotiate." He stepped even closer, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "But I should warn you – once you hear this story, you might not want to let me leave."

"That's a pretty big assumption," she replied, though her heart was racing. "I'm not that easy to impress."

"Good," he said simply, his eyes dark with promise. "I like a challenge."

…

"So about that blind date," Jack started, leaning against the wall beside her. His sleeve brushed against her bare arm, sending electricity through her skin. "My teammate thought it would be hilarious to set me up with his cousin – didn't mention she's also a sports journalist who's been trying to get an exclusive with me for months."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "And running away was your sophisticated solution?"

"Hey, I made it three whole minutes before I spotted her voice recorder in her purse," he laughed, running a hand through his already disheveled dark hair. "Though I'll admit, diving behind the bar and army-crawling my way to this corner wasn't my proudest moment. The bartender's face was priceless though."

"You did not," Y/n gasped, eyes widening with delight.

"I absolutely did. These jeans?" He gestured to his knees, where sure enough, there were slight wet marks. "Casualties of war. But hey, it led me to crash into you, so I'd say it was worth the dry cleaning bill."

The way he looked at her when he said it made her stomach flip. There was something magnetic about him – the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how he seemed genuinely interested in her reactions, the subtle way he'd shifted closer as they talked.

"So what's your story?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. "What's a girl who clearly doesn't want to be here doing in a bar on game night?"

"What makes you think I don't want to be here?"

"Because you've been watching everyone like you're taking mental notes for a novel. Like you're observing rather than participating." His observation was so accurate it caught her off guard. "Until now, at least."

Before Y/n could respond, a familiar squeal cut through their bubble.

"There you are!" Alyssa's voice rang out as she materialized beside them, her eyes widening as they landed on Jack. "Oh my god, Y/n, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Y/n felt her walls slam back up, recognizing the predatory gleam in her roommate's eyes. She'd seen it before – countless times. Alyssa had a way of commanding attention, of making herself the center of any interaction. And men always noticed her first, or noticed her eventually. It was an unspoken pattern in their friendship that Y/n had learned to accept.

"Jack," he offered, politely extending his hand to Alyssa, though his eyes flickered back to Y/n.

"I'm Alyssa, Y/n's roommate and best friend," she gushed, placing her hand in his and holding on a beat too long. "You look so familiar. Wait – oh my god, are you Jack Hughes? The hockey player?"

Y/n's stomach dropped. Of course he was someone famous. Of course this moment, like all the others that had promised to be different, would end the same way.

"Guilty," he admitted with a slight grimace, still trying to maintain eye contact with Y/n even as Alyssa positioned herself between them.

"This is crazy! I was just telling Y/n we needed to come out tonight because of the hockey game. I'm like, your biggest fan. Y/n doesn't follow hockey at all, isn't that funny?" Alyssa laughed, touching his arm.

Y/n watched as Jack tried to navigate the conversation diplomatically, occasionally attempting to include her, but Alyssa was a force of nature when she wanted something. She felt herself backing away slightly, the familiar role of wallflower settling back over her shoulders like a well-worn coat.

"I should probably check on that missed call," she said quietly, though she doubted either of them heard her.

As she turned to leave, she caught Jack's voice, sharp with what sounded like frustration. "Actually, Y/n—"

But Alyssa cut him off. "Oh my god, we should totally get your number. For like, future game tickets and stuff?"

Y/n didn't stay to hear his response. She'd seen this movie before, knew how it ended. She made her way back to the bar, signaling for another drink, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. For a moment – just a moment – she'd felt something real. Something that made her want to lean in instead of pull away.

But real wasn't for girls like her. Real was for girls like Alyssa, who knew how to claim what they wanted without hesitation. She raised the fresh glass to her lips, determined to wash away the lingering warmth of possibility.

She didn't notice Jack's eyes following her retreat, or the way he barely registered Alyssa's number in his phone, or how his jaw clenched when he realized Y/n wasn't coming back.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[twinksrepository]

A shower for two

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Lucifer X F!Reader

CW: Smut, sweaty, teasing, Fingering, delayed orgasm, multiple orgasms, implied rough sex, Shower sex, implied creampie, hickies.

Word count: Roughly 2.7K

A/N: You get back from a run and almost run right into Lucifer, who offers to join you for a shower before joining him for a meal.

I bet you don't need much to know what premium picture inspired this one.

Images belong to Solmare.

Jogging up the stairs to the house you stop for a moment, using the bottom of your shirt to dry some of the sweat on your face while you try to catch your breath. Pacing a little and using the cool air of the evening to help slow your racing heart before heading inside. 

A few slow steps as you pulled your earbuds out heading towards your room to grab a set of clean clothes. You’re drenched from your run and the idea of a hot shower sounds amazing against your tired muscles. Turning down the hallway and almost bumping into Lucifer. By almost, you mean if he wasn’t more aware you would have planted your head against his chest since you were looking downward. 

“Oh, sorry.” Giving a small laugh that shows just how out of breath you still are as you step back. 

A whisper of your name before you get one of those rare soft Lucifer smiles. “Just getting back?” 

Nodding and wiping the side of your face feeling a few beads of liquid drip downward, you are not cooling down at all. “How about you? I thought you had some work to do back at RAD?” 

“Done. It didn’t take me as long as I expected.” You flinch a little when he reaches out to tuck the strand of hair that always seems to fall in front of your face back behind your ear. “Did you eat already?” 

“No.” You shake your head while answering him. “I went for a run almost as soon as I got back, I told the others not to save me any dinner.” It would have been a fight to keep a single plate from Beel even if you had wanted something put aside. “I figured after my shower I’d just grab a sandwich or something.” 

“Ah.” Nodding at your logic with the hint of a smile, you can’t help but feel the fluttering of your stomach as your cheeks start to burn while you flush for a different reason. “I picked up a few premade meals on my way home, I expected to miss whatever had been made. Would you care to join me in my room?” 

The fluttering in your stomach grows worse and you feel your face split into a wide grin. “I’d love to. I just need a shower and I’ll meet you there.” Starting to move past him since you don’t want to take too much longer knowing you have the chance to spend a few uninterrupted hours with him. A gloved hand stops you in your tracks placed against the center of your chest. “Lucifer?” Tilting your head to the side unsure of the reason for the brief flash of pink across his nose.

“Perhaps, I’ll join you.” Your stomach clenches and your heart starts to race once more as you bite your lip before nodding. “I’ll see you in my bathroom.” If you thought you had been blushing before your face is an inferno now, giving him a soft acknowledgment before he leaves you in the hallway. 

Darting to your room with your face ablaze your heart beating a tempo that has you hearing the pumping of the blood inside your veins in your ears. You feel like you’re on a secret mission or something as you check the corners of the hallways, not wanting to be caught by any of the brothers as you make your way toward the Avatar of Pride’s room. Your clothes are pressed tightly to your chest, well not that tightly so you don’t cover them in sweat. 

A short knock and you’re tugged through the crack in the door, your face firmly planted in his chest before you hear the lock being engaged. “Um. It’s just a shower Lucifer.” You find yourself muttering into his chest. 

“I prefer when our time isn’t interrupted by the antics of my brothers.” His hands slid down over your arms, the bare skin of his palms raising goosebumps in their wake. You’d arrived as he was starting to undress himself, he’s down to his pants and black shirt. Glancing up you turn your head to the side to avoid his lips connecting with your skin. 

“Lucifer, I’m sweaty and gross.” You don’t like denying him the chance to kiss you, it’s one of your favorite things but the idea of making out while you can smell your sweaty body doesn’t help put you in the mood. 

“You’re covered in sweat when you’re tied to my bed and under me, screaming for me to break you. When I let you scream anyway.” It’s such a deadpan delivery that you jump in his hold, your nose scrunched up because you can’t really argue with his logic. 

“It’s just different ok!” A waiver in your voice that makes you sound so unsure of yourself, thankfully the demon takes pity on you and steps away. Or he noticed the low whine of your embarrassment. A few strides toward his closet as he keeps removing his clothes—a slight distraction as those painted nails work the buttons of his shirt loose.  

“You know your way to the bathroom.” Jumping again, the inferno burning on your face once more, your ears burning just as much if not more than your cheeks. Slightly embarrassed at being caught watching him, if you had paused a little longer you would have caught the swell of his chest. Or the smirk on his face. 

Leaving your clean clothes on the counter near the vanity, stopping to let out a soft snort at the flickering lights lining the bathtub edge against the wall. “Did you seriously light candles in here?” Calling out while you start to peel your sticky clothes from your skin, wincing at the size of the wet patch on the fabric. Confirmation of a good workout at least. 

“I see my attempt at being romantic is once more wasted on you.” Another flinch when his deep voice whispers next to your ear, unable to see him because of your shirt sticking to you as you try to pull it over your head. “Here.” A hint of amusement as his hands slid under the stuck garment to help divulge you of the fabric. 

“Not wasted.” Laughing as your head pops out of the opening, licking your lips at the shifting of the muscles of his arms as he tosses the sodden fabric to join when you had left your pants in the corner. “I do appreciate when you show that side of you, but between that and saying how you picked up a few premade meals.” Raking your eyes over his body, noticing the black towel wrapped around his hips. “I might be a little suspicious and starting to think you planned this.”

A deep chuckle and a grin your only answer as he steps around you to work the knobs for the shower and the oversized raindrop showerhead before snapping the towel from his hips. A look sent over his shoulder at you as he slips under the spray and your hands move a lot faster to remove the rest of your clothes to join him.

The first few drops of water that hit your skin are just the right temperature as you step in behind him, trying to keep your eyes from trailing downward to the fine muscles of his lower back. And lower. The streams of water along his well-defined body don’t help with the way the water forms trails that converge in just the right spot. 

Neither does him trailing his fingers through his wet hair and slicking it back from his forehead. You swallow, an action he doesn’t miss. “I believe you were the one who needed the shower.” 

“I swear you’re trying to see if you can make me combust.” Muttering as the fire on your cheeks is hot enough you’re sure it has to be causing steam to rise from your skin. Steeping in front of him to let the spray hit you directly, your hands rubbing at your face as the water streamed down your skin. 

“If I did that who would keep me company?” He’s teasing you still but any annoyance you might feel is brushed aside by the feel of his fingers along your scalp. 

“Diavolo.” You tease right back, laughing as he swatted at your ass from dropping the demon prince’s name. 

“That brazen attitude of yours is going to get you in trouble.” 

“Trouble that involves punishment from you?” Your quip has both of you laughing, and you lean back letting Lucifer lather your hair. It’s an uncommon occurrence that you would have never expected from him when you first came to the Devildom. If you’re being honest up until your last night as a member of the exchange program the first time you would have never pictured it. His love language is definitely more along the lines of physical touch and acts of service. When he doesn’t have you tied down and exhausted anyway.

“Rinse.” A single command and you step back fully under the spray and the moment you no longer felt any suds along your hair you turn to pull Lucifer under the spray with you. Tilting yourself to kiss the underside of his chin while the water pounded into both of you. 

“Thank you handsome.” 

“You know one is never enough to satisfy me.” His arms wrapping around you and you find your hands reaching up to tangle in his damp locks as he connects your lips. There’s no preamble to him sliding his tongue into your mouth, you see no reason no deny letting him have control and doing whatever he wants. Moaning as his tongue coils along yours in a way that makes you feel weak in the knees and has your core clenching. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become heated and there’s no mistaking the firm length trapped between your bodies. 

“What happened to being sweaty and gross? We’ve only washed your hair.” His voice has that edge to it that lets you know he’s planning to absolutely fuck your brains out tonight. You’re going to be sore tomorrow that’s for sure, and internally you’re giddy. More than happy to be a pillow princess for him unless he wants you to do something specific. 

“I’m easily distracted.” Laughing against the seam of his mouth. “You know that.” Keeping an arm around his neck as you lean back a small amount, using your finger to toy with the longer portion of his bangs. Curling the strands around your index finger and watching the light shine through the graying sections. Giving him a wink. “Since you are my favorite distraction.” 

Shaking his head with a soft smirk in place. “I would never refer to you as a distraction, though you are almost as much trouble as my brothers.” 

“Only almost?” You’re well aware of the feeling of his fingers sliding down your back, the tips of his fingers gracing every vertebrae as they trail downward. 

“You’re more fun to punish.” Giving your butt a squeeze and leaning forward so he can nip the shell of your ear. “Was earlier just a ploy to rile me up, refusing to kiss me and make me wait?” His voice is low with a husk to it, that ember in your core burning a little hotter. 

Honestly, that wasn’t what you had been aiming for but the way he sounds, and the twitching of his cock between your bodies. Well. “Of course it was.” If he catches your lie he ignores it, but the smirk he’s sporting has your core throbbing. “Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait?” 

“You’re lucky I have patience then.” Moving his head to catch your lips while his hands slide down to you grip your ass and lift you, turning the two of you until you feel the slick tiles against your back. As his tongue slides against yours, you give your hips a roll seeking some friction along his body. “Unlike you it seems.”

“I can’t help it, you’re additive Lucifer.” You know he has a firm grip on you, reaching one hand down to wrap your fingers around his length. “And I like being stuffed.” Pumping his shaft while mouthing at his neck. 

He doesn’t say anything more, shifting your body in his hold and angeling his hips to better align your bodies. You don’t need him to speak as you use your fingers to slide his cock between your folds, smearing the head with the fluid seeping from your core. The mist from the spray hitting his back clings to both of you, looking at his crimson orbs you lick your lips. 

You can feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you both maintain eye contact, staring into those red eyes that shine with adoration certain you have a similar look within your eyes. Gasping as in a single movement Lucifer buries his length in your slick walls, your hands gripping his shoulders as you moan long and low against his neck. 

“Hold on.” Groaning through gritted teeth as he starts to thrust into you, the force driving your back hard against the tiles of the shower. Sliding your hands along his shoulders to the back of his neck, intertwining your fingers while your neck arches the crown of your head sliding along the tiles. Your legs rising to wrap around his waist, hooking your feet together and using them to push his hips harder against your body.

His breathing turns ragged in no time, panting as his hips piston in and out of you at a break neck speed. “Lucifer!” You’re no better off, squeezing your elbows together to try and steady yourself against his chest. The steady wet snap and the stretch of your walls has you approaching your edge quickly. 

“I know.” There’s a flush on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the hot water still beating against his skin. Dropping his forehead against yours his damp exhale mingles with your own heated breath. “Cum for me.” With the tiles against your back, Lucifer doesn’t need to keep both of his hands on your ass. Trailing one hand upward along your side to brush his long digits against your ribs. 

Sliding your fingers along his neck to tilt his head upwards so you can close the distance and press your lips against his. Your back arches when he angles his hips just enough to push you over that edge, a shuttering gasp into his mouth as your walls clamp around him like a vice forcing his movement to still. 

Keeping his touch light, Lucifer trails his fingers along your side breathing deeply to regain control of his cock to stop himself from spilling inside of you. He’ll stuff you full of his cum several times before the night is over, but each time will be on his terms. Waiting for the spamming of your core to slow before lowering your legs to the floor but keeping a hand on your hip. 

You’re glad for his steadying hand, one of your arms wrapped around his neck as you lean against his shoulder. With the slick surface of the tub and how rubbery your legs feel you seriously doubt if you could have stood on your own right now. “That was a damn good cool down.” Trying to joke with him while you catch your breath. 

“Cool down?” A hint of disbelief in his voice as he guides you under the spray once more. “I’d say your run was your stretch for what I have planned for the rest of the night.” Grabbing the smaller bottle of your shower gel that seems to have a permanent place in his bathroom and starting to work at cleaning your skin. 

“Does that mean you aren’t going to feed me like you promised?” 

It’s silent except for the falling water for a few moments before Lucifer burst out laughing, kissing the corner of your mouth before he goes back to cleaning your skin. “I did invite you to share a meal with me.” Working along your stomach he gives you a look. “After that meal, I plan to ruin you.” 

“No visible marks.” A small plea that gets another chuckle from him. 

“I’ll consider the request.” 

The next morning when you head into the dining room for breakfast there’s no denying the marks along your neck and jaw. Or avoiding Asmo asking why he wasn’t invited to join the two of you based on the noises he heard when he walked by. 

Back to Masterlist

[auclairedetoru]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to see if you could write something fluffy with Levi and a reader that’s shorter than him 🥺

Maybe something where he’s doting on them? I adore the idea of a cold Levi who’s soft for his partner and I’m part of the minority of people who is actually shorter than him lol. I see a lot of fics describing the reader as taller but not enough for the other shorties out here 🙂‍↕️

Finally. The end of the day.

Levi lets out a loud sigh as the door of his bedroom closes behind him. His head leans against it and his eyes close. After hours of training, meetings, monitoring, and doing a shit ton of paperwork, he's finally back to the comfort of his bedroom at exactly midnight.

He lifts his head back up and looks around the small space, an unfamiliar (to others at least) smile spreads on his face when his eyes land on the sleepy yet smiling person sitting on his bed.

“Welcome back home, Levi.”

God, their sweet voice makes him melt into a puddle every time. He can't believe he gets to call such a precious person his partner, he considers himself a very lucky man.

“I'm sorry I woke you up, my love.” he says gently as he takes off his jacket. They shake their head and watch him as he tries his best to take off the belts wrapped around his body as fast as possible, “it's okay, darling. I wasn't sleeping, you know I can't without you.”

Levi cups their face after he is done and leans down to press a soft kiss to their forehead. People would lose their mind if they saw the way he acts and talks to them, in fact, only the people he's closest to in the survey corps (which is very few) know about their relationship, it wouldn't even cross people's minds that the strong and stoic captain who doesn't care if he hurts anyone's feelings is dating the sweet and gentle nurse who once cried with a soldier while trying to stitch him up.

“Did you have a good day today? Any of those brats bothered you?” he caresses their soft cheeks with the pad of his thumbs, mesmerized by the way the light casts a warm glow on their face. They lean into his touch, their eyes closing in relaxation. “everything was okay. Jean and Eren even teamed up to help me carry the new supplies stock and put them on the high shelves for me.”

He chuckles softly and pulls away from them so he can quickly change into more comfortable clothes. He used to sleep in his uniform, belts and all, just in case something happens and he couldn't waste his time putting everything back on, most of the nights he didn't sleep to begin with, but ever since they started sharing the same bed, not only did he find himself falling asleep but he also invested in some soft night clothes so he can cuddle with them without any restrictions.

“Still refusing to use the stool I got you?” he smirks as he starts changing his clothes. They've been dating long enough for them to not care about being naked in front of the other.

“I don't need it! The boxes were just heavy!”

“Hmm, sure you don't,” he teases as he gets under the blanket on his side of the bed (which is obviously the one on the near the bedroom door) and pats his lap with two hands. They huff, followed by a small, almost inaudible "I'm not that short", yet they don't hesitate to straddle his thighs and nuzzle their face in his warm chest. He wraps his arms around their body and presses a kiss on top of their head.

“if you weren't so short you wouldn't be able to fit in my arms all snuggly,” he looks down at their face and smiles at the adorable sight of their cheek pressed firmly on his chest, probably so they're able to hear his heart beat, they told him before that it's their favourite sound, “look at you, you could fit in my pocket, I could take you everywhere with me.”

They look up at him with the sweetest look on their face, their pretty eyes soft and affectionate. He wishes he could freeze this moment and stay like this forever, no titans, no fighting, no heartbreak, just him relaxing with his beloved in his arms.

“Can I stay in your heart instead? I think I'll like it there more.”

Levi lets out a shaky sigh. He's not one to get emotional, he can't even remember the last time he cried because it's been so long, but at that moment he feels a tug at his heart strings and a lump form in his throat. He never thought he'd ever have someone who loves him unconditionally, who would stay up till the late hours waiting for him because they want him to be the last thing they see before they close their eyes, whose presence felt the closest to what he heard others describe as home, who looked past the walls he has up and saw someone worth all their patience.

“You know I can't have you stay anywhere else. I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life.”

“More than tea?” they teasingly raise an eyebrow making him chuckle.

"Yes, my love. More than tea," he replies, gently brushing a strand of hair away from their eyes.

“More than cleaning?”

"now I don't know about that...”

“hey!”

Levi laughs loudly, a deep and hearty sound he never imagined would come from him before he met them. Their melodic giggles join his, filling the air with a positive energy he only experiences around them. At that moment, he feels his heart fill with a great amount of happiness, a feeling he always thought he didn't need, but now can never live without, and it makes him realise that he is now complete.

In the past, he thought that when he'd feel complete he would let go of everything, even life itself. But now, the thought of being separated from the love of his life terrifies him, and for the first time, he wants nothing more than to continue living and breathing, even if it means fighting those ugly monsters every single day.

Is life easy right now? No, Eren Jeager is still a big pain in his ass, and the whole situation with the titans keeps getting worse and worse, but now he gets to come home to moments like these, and they simply make everything better.

I lost the plot and didn't make this very focused on short!reader but it's there nonetheless! I love soft Levi who's a totally different person around his love 💕

[hesperisms]

helluuu~ first off all - I love your writing! U write incredibly well and I love how you characterize Zayne and Sylus (anything u write shall be canon to me🧎🏻‍♀️🛐)

second off all, a slightly more specific request, bc I just recently saw a really cute set of nipple clips and a small buttplug that had matching pink bows on everything ahhh

How would Sylus and Zayne react coming home to reader waiting for them on the bed like that, wanting to surprise them and spice things up? (Especially with how u wrote in your Zanye ABC that he probably wouldn’t be into anything anal, but I’d guess that this wouldn’t be something he’d outright say before it comes up and reader obviously didn’t know)

// Mixed Messages

"Is this one of your tricks again? I didn't say I wouldn't look..."

// summary: a double imagine! how Sylus and Zayne would react to you surprising them with some cute kinky toys.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), toys, bondage, fluff, dominance, embarassment, shame, kink, nipple play, finger stimulation, vaginal sex, THE IMPLICATION

// a/n: oh stawwwp you're gonna make me blush anon! I'm so glad you love my writing, I hope this lives up to your expectations!

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

It arrived the morning he was due to get back from his conference in Chansia City and you'd been staring at it in the little velvet baggie it came in as you sprawled out on Zayne's bed, inhaling the scent of him from his pillows. Your pulse quickened as you played with the smooth cold weight of it, hearing the clinking muffled by the luxurious fabric. The stage was set for your surprise.

"I'm sorry Zaynie I've been called to work, I can't meet you at the airport like I planned to. I promise I'll come straight over at 3 when I'm done?"

"Alright," came the soft reply down the line, a hint of anticipation in his tone. "Don't be too late though, I'm bringing you home a surprise."

"I'll be there with bows on!"

You giggled with a conspiratorial rush as you hung up the phone - you hadn't lied to him, technically correct was still correct after all - you would be there with bows on, they just happened to be bows on a matching set of a little buttplug and nipple clamps.

Having spent the morning picking out one of the cute sets of lingerie that Zayne had bought for you, you'd settled on a baby pink gingham print teddy, deciding the cute soft pink matched the naughtiness of the toys well. Slipping the stainless steel plug out of the velvet bag, you took the lube from his nightstand and slipped it in. You only had a about half an hour before he was due to get home and you wanted to be ready for him.

His key turned in the lock right as you were slipping on the matching nipple clamps and you let out a loud moan of anticipation. You clapped your hand over your mouth, holding your breath in the hopes you hadn't given away your presence. Damnit, you thought as you heard his travel case hit the floor with a loud thud and confident footsteps clicked down the hallway towards you. You had been caught.

"This is one of your tricks again?" The mirth shines in his soft voice as he steps into the bedroom, looking you up and down appreciatively. As you blush and turn away coyly, he chuckles and reaches out to cup your chin, bending over to kiss you. "I didn't say I wouldn't look."

Zayne takes his jacket off and tosses it onto the chair near the window, tugging his tie loose and unbuttoning his top two buttons before he settles onto the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. He reaches out to you, sighing that he missed you as he pulls you into his lap. You gasp as the steel plug clinks against the metal of his belt buckle and he's so confused his head tilts.

Holding your hips in his firm hands, he pulls you up off his lap and then puts you back down on it, listening again to the metallic CLINK as the toy pings against the buckle. "Y/N...what did you do?" he asks in a dangerous low whisper, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Play wrestling you out of the teddy to inspect your body, he tugs it down from your breasts roughly while he tickles you in his lap and there's a little stereo set of PLINK PLINK sounds as the nipple clamps snap off your sensitive buds and you cry out a loud needy moan.

Zayne's eyes widen in shock, looking down at the little sliver clamps with their petite pink enamel bowties, rolling them in his fingers as his brain puts together your line from the morning's call. "Be there with bows on, hmm?" he says with his lips curling into a smirk of understanding. He looks down at your nipples, red and swollen, flushed full of blood and clicks his tongue at you. "Do you want me to kiss them better?"

He doesn't wait for your answer, his mouth greedily wrapping around your nipple and sucking tightly, swirling his tongue playfully across it as his other hand travels down your hip and around the curve of your ass. He's moaning against your delicate bud in his lips, lapping at it and licking wet sloppy kisses all over it when his fingertips on your backside hit metal and he stops mid-suckle.

"Wh-What did you do?" he mumbles against your breast, his mouth pulling back from you, a string of saliva hanging between his lip and your nipple as he tilts his head up to look at you suspiciously. "Is that what I think that is...?" he asks, his tone a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

Zayne flips you off his lap and onto your back beside him on the bed and starts tugging the bottom half of the teddy off you, your legs up in the air over his shoulder as he untangles the lingerie from your ankles and that's when he finally sees it; the stainless steel plug, nestled snuggly into your ass, twitching with your quivers of anticipation and you see his brain buffer as he tries to comprehend the situation. A deep crimson flush has surged its way up his ears.

"My love..." Zayne begins with an exasperated sigh, one hand rubbing your legs up over his shoulder, the other pinching his brow as he winces. The air hangs heavy between you two for a moment.

"Surprise?" you giggle awkwardly, your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and you bite your lip as you hold your breath, realizing that he doesn't seem as into it as you'd hoped he would be. You cover your eyes with your hands, not wanting to see disappointment on his face and that's when he sighs again, reaching down to pull your hands away from your face.

"I appreciate the gesture, my love..." Zayne starts to collect his thoughts, wanting to reassure you that you haven't done anything wrong, while also cementing what he had thought was an unspoken boundary with you. "But this...this is not for me." Your eyes start to well with embarrassed tears and he quickly wipes them away, shaking his head at you with a gentle smile, his golden-green eyes gazing at you adoringly. "My favorite place to be in the whole wide world is an inch away from this," he emphasizes the last word with a tap on the plug, then strokes his fingertips delicately through your wet folds lovingly. "...so I don't need anything else but that, okay?"

You bite your lip and nod up at him, sucking in a deep breath before giving him a blushing smile.

"There's my good girl," Zayne coos at you with a smile, stroking your glistening pussy and nipping kisses against your ankle. He rocks back onto his heels, releasing your legs. "Do you want to go take that out while I strip off? I'm feeling very overdressed compared to you." He gives your backside a gentle pat and watches you waddle towards the ensuite with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"Oh and Y/n?" Zayne calls after you and you pause, turning back to him and tilting you head questioningly.

"On your way back, grab the little ringbox out of my luggage won't you? We can't forget about your surprise..." He smirks.

"Sweetie," Sylus drawled smugly, swinging the little velvet bag by it's loops around his long index finger like a lasso. "You know nothing can be hidden from me inside my own home. In fact," he looks down at you with a wicked smirk on his face, crimson eyes full of mischief, "I'm impressed you bought it from a store in person instead of having it delivered online. It seems my kitten is getting bolder the more time she spends with me."

"You could've at least pretended!" you pout with a huff, elbowing him in the ribs and he laughs warmly, handing the pouch back to you. "It was supposed to be a surprise but now you've ruined it."

Sylus' eyes light up with love at your grumpy little pout and he strokes your hair affectionately, cooing to you. "Don't be mad at me y/n, it's my nature to know all comings and goings in my circles. I tell you what," he says, shifting your weight off him and getting up out of bed. "I'm going to go check on some transactions, when I come back in about ten minutes this whole conversation never happened and I promise to be very surprised. Deal?"

"Okay, deal."

When Sylus slipped back into the room ten minutes later just as he'd promised, he let out an appreciative growl at the sight that waited for him.

You were bent over, hands splayed out flat on his expensive silk sheets, legs shoulder width apart and locked straight so your ass was in the air towards the door. You were completely naked, save for the steel buttplug with the little pink enameled bow on it, and the matching nipple clamps that were making your chest flush and your buds ache.

"My my," Sylus murmurs seductively, trailing his fingertips up the back of your thigh and watching you shiver under his touch. "You know I normally prefer to unwrap my own presents, but I won't complain when my gift looks this succulent.." His hand reaches the curve of your backside and he gives it a firm squeeze, his strong fingers digging into your flesh possessively and he smiles when you let out a needy little moan.

He leans down to take a closer look at the plug, his hot breath fanning across the backs of your thighs and your heat as he clicks his tongue appreciatively. "It seems I was mistaken," he teases in a sultry chuckle, a tinge of huskiness to his tone that makes your walls ache with longing. "My present has a bow on it after all."

You gasp as he suddenly presses on the plug and swipes a slow finger through your aching folds, bringing his finger up to his lip to suck it. "Tastes good too." Sylus purrs, licking his lips, watching as you clench at nothing.

Sylus stands behind you, his right hand slipping through your rapidly soaking folds, as his other hand strokes down your back like he's petting a cat. You moan and press back against his hand and he lets out an exhaling growl. "So needy kitten," he teases in a dangerous whisper. "Are you trying to say you want more?"

You whimper and moan as he starts to slip his fingers into you, teasing your entrance and you clench greedily, trying to draw him in. "Please Sylus..." you whine at him and he laughs, his fingers hooking in and pressing deeply on your front wall and your moans get louder. As his fingers stroke deeply, confidently and your arousal surges you feel his erection pressing into your hip. He slips his fingers out of you and presses his thumb down on the plug, rotating it in slow circles and pressing it into you deeper as his fingers slide down through your wetness to press on your clit.

Right when you're about to orgasm, he lets you go and moves behind you, grinding his hips into you and reaching down over your ribs to cup your breasts, pulling you up against his chest. You pout at being edged and he leans down to kiss you passionately as you whine against his lips, head tilted back against his chest, a deep arch in your spine. He rubs your breasts and squeezes them in his strong palms, unclipping the clamps and your breath catches in your throat at the relief. He tosses the clips onto the bedside table and rubs slow circles on your nipples, his predatory gaze staring down at you before he releases you.

"Hands back down on the bed Sweetie," he commands. "And keep them there." You shiver in anticipation and do as he tells you to, palms flat, pressing your ass up against his twitching erection. Sylus smirks and pulls back from you to give himself space to stroke the head through your folds and he groans at how inviting your heat feels. Pressing himself into you, he starts to inch in, letting you settle and adjust to his size as he moves inside you.

"You always feel so good Y/n." He praises as he bottoms out against your cervix, hands roaming appreciative massaging patterns on your hips. Sylus grips you tightly and starts thrusting and you cry out in pleasure, the lewd sounds of him slapping into your wet walls echoing in the room sinfully. The noises that are coming out of you drive him wild and he slides his hands up from your hips to cup your breasts, pressing his chest down against your back, rutting into you. Sylus hot breath fans out over the back of your neck as he lets out heavy panting moans.

Feeling you clench and tighten around him as your heat builds desperately and your moaning gets louder, Sylus thrusts harder, his hips slamming both himself and the plug deeper into you and he bites down on your neck, moaning into it with a lick. "You can, go on, do it...let me feel you fall apart." he whispers wickedly into the back of your neck as your tightly wound heat snaps and you buck underneath him, the orgasm ripping through you making your walls grip him tightly as your thighs shake unsteadily. Sylus lifts himself off you to throw his head back and lets out a deep guttural moan, joining you; the last of your waves of rippling pleasure meeting his hitching thrusts as he tries in vain to keep pace while he fills you.

Sylus looks down at your sweating, quivering back below him and reaches down to pull you towards him, nuzzling into your neck as you stand up, letting out a moan at the ache deep in your thighs and your lower back from the position. He wraps his arms around you possessively, cuddling you back against his chest as he catches his breath, his panting flooding your ears. "I liked your surprise, Kitten..." he says with a breathless chuckle. "We should let you surprise me more often."

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> PREVIOUS PART >> NEXT PART

Somehow, Arthur and Merlin end up lying in bed, making out. Things float around the room. Curiously enough, the vases with Merlin's flowers remain in their place.

Arthur: (on top of Merlin, pulls away a bit, looks around, suprised, and then looks back at Merlin)

Merlin: (embarrased and nervous) I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! (lowers the things to their places inmediatly) My magic is linked to my emotions and does that sometimes when my emotions are strong. I normally have good control of it! It hasn't done that in years, I swear!

Arthur: In years?

Merlin: Since I was a kid.

Arthur: (smiles smugly) So... you basically love me so much your magic makes things fly when we kiss?

Merlin: (scolds) Oh, don't go getting a big head! (but he can't help but smile too cause he's relieved Arthur is not freaking out about it) But yes. (blushes more)

Arthur: (mockingly) Now you are going to tell me the butterflies in Leon's chambers were also cause by your magic.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: (pretends to be surprised) They were?!

Merlin: (slaps his chest) Shut up!

Arthur: I'm the Prince, Merlin. You can't shut me up-

Merlin: (kisses him)

Arthur: (Kisses back)

Merlin: (rolls them so he is on top of Arthur and separates the kiss) You were saying? 😏

Arthur: Oh, you can shut me up all you want. (kisses him again)

Kissing Merlin is magic in all senses of the word. Like a breath of air after being underwater drowning, like drinking water after being walking for hours in a hot desert. Arthur never felt more alive, and he is sure of it because, for a long time, he has been dying.

When Merlin told him he loved him just before turning into a tree, he couldn't enjoy it properly. First he was dying, then he was too devasted about Merlin's fate to think in Merlin's last words. The following months the knowlegde of Merlin's feelings started to take place in his mind, but he was too focus on finding a way to fix Merlin's state while being dead inside to dwell on it. It was in the very second he realised he was in love with Merlin, has been for a very long time, that those words hunted him and his already eternal pain turned into agony. Because he realised he wasn't really dead inside. He was still dying, never stopped dying since that day. Constantly dying but never reaching death and that was worst than being dead inside.

So Arthur began picturing "could have been's", even if that only brought him more agony afterwards, it also gave him some sort of relief, hope. Kissing Merlin’s mouth with his own being one of the most recurrent imaginations. And, once he traveled back in time, it was all he could dream of. Every time he encounter Merlin, everytime they were close or Merlin smiled at him. He's been dying to hear his "I love you" again and to kiss those lips so, so much. None of his fantasies live up to this woderful reality.

He was dying and now he is alive.

Merlin: (between kisses, almost a whisper) Gods, I love you.

Arthur: (separates the kiss, breathless) Say it again.

Merlin: (still kind of dizzy from the kiss) Uhm?

Arthur: (almost a plead) Say it.

Merlin: Want to inflate your ego so much?

Arthur: Merlin!

Merlin:(softens his expression and smiles, caressing Arthur's face) I love you.

Arthur: (holding himself from crying cause he's finally able to enjoy, he's finally able to say it back) I love you too.

And they keep on kissing. Arthur puts himself on top of Merlin again and, despite his hunger for him, he's gentle and careful. Still wanting to be respectful, his hands touch and caress over the clothes. Merlin, however, is making that task quite difficult, spreading his legs and his hands exploring under Arthur's shirt. Arthur is barely aware of the things in his rooms flying around again and even some jars breaking at some point. The only thing in his mind is Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.

Leon: (shouting from outside) MY LORD!

Merlin and Arthur: (pull away from each other quickly and the things fall)

Leon: (enters, almost breaking the door down, sword in hand) My lord! Are you... (looks Merlin and Arthur on the bed in quite a state and then the state of the room that is basically a mess. Then turns around, embarrased) My-my apologies. I heard noises and though someone was attacking you, Sire. I-I'll come back later-

Merlin: (all red) No! It's fine. I was leaving. (gets off the bed)

Arthur: (gets off the bed too) Merlin, don't forget- (but when he stands up his trousers fall to the floor)

Merlin: (wide eye, brings his hands to his mouth)

Leon: ...

Arthur: (looks down and then looks at Merlin)

Merlin: (thinking, blushing more than ever) 😳 Oh, gods! Did I do that? When did I untie the laces? Or was it my magic? Nooo how embarrassing! 😫😱 (says with a strangled voice and trying very hard to keep a straight face) Don't forget what, my lord?

Arthur: (also blushing, as he puts his trousers back on) The list of chores I gave you before we...eh... before.

Merlin: (confused) What list- (remembers the list of suspects) Oh, right! (looks around the room and picks up the parchment) I'll see right to it, Sire. (leaves, passing Leon quickly)

Arthur: (to Leon) So... since you interrupted us, better make it worth it.

Leon: The king wants to know if you already have the list of suspects, Sire.

Arthur: I have it. Gather the men. We'll arrest them inmediatly. I just have to... (signals his disheveled self) put myself decent.

Leon: Uhmm... do you... (holding himself from laughing, but can't help but grin) want me to call Merlin for that Sire?

Arthur: Very funny. (orders) Out, Leon.

Leon: Yes, Sire. (bows and is about to leave, but turns to comment) Nice decoration, Sire. (leaves, closing the door behind him)

Arthur: (confused) Decoration? (looks around and notices Merlin's flowers have grown from the vases like vines covering the sufarce near them) This corny idiot. (but he is smiling as he says it)

Merlin manages to warn in advance some of the suspects with Lancelot's help, going house to house. But, as Arthur predicted, several still were arrested in the end.

Time skip. Uther, Arthur, Merlin and the knights in the throne room.

Uther: Have all the suspects been arrested?

Arthur: Most of them. A few have gone to ground.

Uther: Issue a proclamation. All the prisoners will be executed unless the perpetrator of this attack is found.

Merlin: (thinking, affected but not suprised) You wanted to kill them either way.

Arthur: (knowing this was coming, with resignation) I'll see to it, Sire. (thinking) Maybe I can make the suspects part of the sacrifice? That way their deaths won't be in vane. Gods, I don't want to. They are innocents, but I did everything I could to save them and helping them escape would be too suspicious.

Morgana: (enters suddenly, screaming desperate) NO! YOU CAN'T! (runs inside)

Arthur: (very surprised since Morgana hasn't left her chambers in days) Morgana?

Morgana: (to Uther) My lord, none of them are at fault of what happened! They didn't cause the fire!

Uther: We can't be sure of that, Morgana.

Morgana: I am! I am sure because it was me!

Arthur and Merlin: (pale, about to have a heart attack)

Uther: What?

Morgana: I caused the fire.

Arthur: (aproaches, putting himself between Morgana and his father) I think what Morgana is trying to say is that she believes she caused the fire by accident. Maybe lighting the candle at night too close to he curtain. Right, Morgana? (gives her an anxious "don't be stupid and play along with me. WTF do you think you are doing!" look)

Morgana: (ignores him) No, it was magic. I did it with magic.

Merlin: (thinking, in panic) I thought I was the only one who did this kind of madness!

Arthur: (holds Morgana by the shoulders) Morgana, I understand that you don't want these people to die and that you feel guilty. But you don't have to make up this nonsense. None of this is your fault.

Morgana: I'm not making anything up! (to Uther) My lord, you have to believe me I-

Arthur: (shouts, urgently) Merlin, take her out. NOW!

Merlin: (as he takes her out) I'll take you to your chambers, my lady. You still need to rest.

Morgana: (struggling) NO! I'M NOT LYING! I'M A- (but she's dragged out of the room)

Arthur: (to Uther, nervous) You surely don't believe she actually has magic, right father? Is clearly that she is overwhelmed and still very distressed. She never liked when you executed people.

Uther: (with an unreadable expression) Indeed, but she never went as far as to confess she has magic just to stop me.

Arthur: Well, is also the first time you threaten to execute these many people, Sire.

Uther: (with barely contained rage) I know exactly what is happening.

Arthur: (sweats)

Uther: She was enchanted!

Arthur: (sighs in relief)

Uther: Forget the proclamation. They ALL will be executed before sunset! (leaves)

Arthur: (thinking) Shit...

Meanwhile, Merlin dragging Morgana around the halls.

Morgana: Let go of me!

Merlin: Morgana, calm down.

Morgana: I won't calm down! These people are going to be killed because of me!

Merlin: Declaring yourself a sorceress won't save them!

Mogana: (shouts) I'M NOT LYING!

Merlin: (shouts back) I KNOW YOU ARE NOT LYING!

Silence. Morgana stops struggling.

Morgana: ... What?

Merlin: (more quietly) I know you are not lying.

Morgana: You...

Merlin: (puts a finger on his lips in a sign of silence and whispers) Can we go somewhere private?

Time skip. In Morgana's chambers.

Morgana: So... you knew? Since when?

Merlin: A while. Your dreams were my first sign. Those are visions that only seers can have.... And only people with magic can be seers.

Morgana: (hurt and angry) You knew all this time what was happening to me... and you didn't tell me?!

Merlin: I wanted to! But I didn't want to freak you out or to force you to accept something maybe you weren't ready to accept or share. I was waiting for you to tell me when you were ready.

Morgana: (sarcastic) Right. So then I would lower my guard and you could stab me in the back!

Merlin: (confused)...what?

Morgana: I saw you in my dream. Giving me poisoned water. (her eyes water but remains angry) I trusted you, you were my friend, and you poisoned me!

Silence. Merlin steps back, like he's been slapped in the face. First his eyes widen in shock, then his expression softens in understanding and, finally, hurt.

Merlin: You said "you were my friend"... Are we not friends now?

Morgana: A friend of mine would never do that to me!

Merlin: You are right and I haven't. And I won't.(thinking) Not in this life. Never in this life. Please, believe me.

Morgana: Then why did I dream that?!

Merlin: I don't know! But I would never hurt you! Morgana- (aproaches, trying to put a comforting hand on her shoulder)

Morgana: (steps back and yells) Stay away from me!

Merlin: (retreats his hand, his eyes watering) Oh... I see. I can't blame you.

Morgana: Blame me? For what?

Merlin: For believing in a vision of a possible future before believing in me.

Why would he? It's true he didn't inmediatly think illy of Morgana when Kilgharrah told him she would be evil and do harm, but he did stop himself from helping her directly because of that. He left her alone and then betrayed her because of his own fear which only led her to become what she became in the end. He is the last person that can judge her. Still, he can't help but sound sad and hurt. Not only because of her words, but because he wasn't prepare to lose her friendship again.

Has... has he lost her again?

No! He won't give up. He'll fight for her this time. Convince her he means no harm. That she can trust her. No matter how much it costs him.

But for now is clear Morgana doesn't want him near, so he'll repect that and let her be.

Morgana: (feeling bad at Merlin's words) Merlin...

Merlin: (blinks to stop the tears in his eyes and masters a polite smile) It's alright, my lady. I understand completely. My apologies for disturbing you. I won't come near you again unless you want me to. (bows and starts leaving)

Morgana: Wait! (stops him by the arm) I'm sorry. You are right. That was unfair of me. I can't hold you for something you haven't committed.

Merlin: I understand, my lady.

Morgana: Don't call me that! (to herself) Gods, now I understand Arthur. (to Merlin) Merlin, I still want to be your friend. I do believe you, I was just scared and I took it out on you. Please, forgive me.

Merlin: (thinking, relief and emotional) She confronted me about her vision and then apologized. She is so much better than I ever was (says, smiling) Of course.

Morgana: (hugs him) I'm so sorry. I was a terrible friend.

Merlin: (hugging her back) It's alright. Morgana, I wasn't lying when I said I understood. (pulls away) I'm also very scared that you dreamt that, even when I know I don't have any intention of poisoning you or harm you in any way. (thinking) It does worry me a lot. Why did she dream that?

Morgana: Maybe... someone will force you to do it?

Merlin: Maybe. But I don't want there to be the slightest possibility. So... I will give you the perfect weapon to defend yourself from me.

Morgana: (horrified at the idea) No! Merlin, there's no need. I believe you would never hurt me, I really do.

Merlin: I know. But the fear will always be there and if you dreamt it, we may as well do something to prevent it.

Morgana: I don't-

Merlin: Please, let me. If not for your sake, then for mine. Please.

Morgana: (sighs) Fine.

Merlin: (holds her hand an enchants) Blóstmá. (his eyes glow and a flower appears in her hand)

Morgana: (stunned) Wh... what? 😧

Merlin: I'm a sorcerer. A warlock really.

Morgana: What's the difference?

Merlin: Sorcerers have to learn spells and enchantments to master magic. I, on the other hand, didn't have to learn anything to be able to do magic. I just have it.

Morgana: (emotional) Like... me?

Merlin: (nods and smiles) That's the weapon I give you. Now a word of you is enough to kill me.

Morgana: You also know I'm a sorceress.

Merlin: You think Uther would believe the word of a servant over yours? He couldn't even believe yours when you told him.

Morgana: (facepalms herself at the memory) Ugh, I was so stupid!

Merlin: (laughs softly) I'm sure Uther didn't believe it. (turns serious again) But he would believe you if you told him about me.

Morgana: I would never turn you in.

Merlin: Just as I would never hurt you. But just in case, now you are safe.

Morgana: (watches the flower in her hand, her eyes watering) I always been taught that magic is evil, that it corrupts your soul.

Merlin: It is not! (picks up the flower) Magic is not evil, nor is good. It just is. (the flower floats in his hand, moving its petals like a butterfly) Is how you decide to use it that matters. And your magic is a gift, capable of wonderful things.

Morgana: I almost burned down my room.

Merlin: Because you were scared. With time you'll learn how to control it. (the flower floats back to Morgana's hand) I will teach you how to control it.

Morgana: (excited) You will?

Merlin: If you let me, of course.

Morgana: (tears of happiness roll down her eyes) I'd love to.

Merlin smiles. Morgana wouldn't be alone this time. He'll make sure of it.

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers, which is not a mess anymore, though the vines of flowers weren't removed.

Arthur: (in his desk, looking defeated)

Merlin: (enters suddenly) I know how to save them!

Arthur: (confused) Who?

Merlin: The suspects! (sits on Arthur's table infront of him) Uther wants to execute them because he can't find the responsible for the fire in Morgana's chambers, right?

Arthur: Yes.

Merlin: So we just have to take the person responsible to the King before sunset. There, problem solved.

Arthur: (sarcastic) Wow... what brilliant idea, Merlin! Why didn't it occurred to me before? Oh, right. Because there is no one responsable!

Merlin: True, because it was... eh... the thunder. But! What if we could make one up?

Arthur: (more confused)...what?

Merlin: Here me out. I know there is an informant in the castle. Probably a spy from Odin, because he was the one who let Myror get in the castle so he could kill you.

Arthur: (very surprised) Wha-How do you know that?

Merlin: Myror kind of let it slip before he tried to slit my throat.

Arthur: WHAT?! 😨

Merlin: (explains quickly) He entered my room and I defeated him using magic, that's why I didn't tell you. So the informant-

Arthur: (almost shouting) You can't tell me you were almost murdered and expect me to-

Merlin: Let it go, I know. We'll talk about my almost assesination attempt later, I promise. Now focus. I know who this informant is. He was the only one who seemed surprised when you woke up alive the next day. And guess who it is?

Arthur: Who?

Merlin: Bentley!

Arthur: (making memory and then his eyes widen with surprised) That's one of Morgana's guards!

Merlin: Which gives him direct access to her chambers.

Arthur: And you think he was behind the fire in Morgana's chambers too?

Merlin: No, but... he could be... easily blamed for it?

Arthur: ...

Merlin: (sighs) Look, I know this is dishonrable and vile. But you have to understand-

Arthur: I'll do it.

Merlin: (surprised) Really? 😧

Arthur: Being informant of Odin alone would be enough for my father to execute him. Adding him one more crime won't change that. He can take the blame.

Merlin: (still perplexed that Arthur agreed to this so easily, but decides not to dwell on it) Oh... Okay.

Arthur: So, do you have any proof? I'm guessing you've been investigating him for a while.

Merlin: (gets some letters out of his pocket) I got these from his room. (gives them to Arthur and he starts reading them) Supposedly they are from a distant relative and they don't say nothing incriminatory. But I know they are from Odin! They must be coded or something. But I haven't been able to decipher them.

Arthur: (thoughtfully as he analyses one letter) Uhm... The messages are very brief. (stretches the parchment) Yet he used a lot of parchment (points the candle in the table) Light the candle.

Merlin: (gets off the table and starts leaving)

Arthur: (stops him) Where are you going?

Merlin: I need the nips to light the candle.

Arthur: With your magic, Merlin!

Merlin: Oh, right! (blushes) Sorry, the habit. (his eyes glow and lights the candle)

Arthur: (puts the letter near the fire and finds the hidden message) It's invisible tint. (looks at Merlin triumphal, smiling) We have him.

So Bentley is bring before the king, accused of both helping in Arthur's assesination attempt and the attack on Morgana. The guard confesses to be informant of Odin but denies being behind the fire. Not even when Arthur shows the proof: fragments of a vase with a weird smell, which Merlin "found" when he helped cleaning Morgana's chambers the day of the attack, that turned out to be a part of incendiary chemical weapon known as Greek Fire. And both the invisible tint and the Greek Fire were greek technices. Gaius supports the theory and adds that the prolonged exposure to the smell of the chemical could have "effects on the brain" which was probably what made Morgana "delirious". Bently still denies being part of the attack, but the King has had enough. He is sentenced to beheading and, since magic was never behind the attack on Morgana, all the suspects are realeased.

Time skip. At night. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (after he finishes changing Arthur's clothes) Thank you. I know it mustn't have been easy for you. Lie to your father like that and make that man take the blame, even if he was already a bad person.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: (whispering, to himself) It was actually too easy.

Merlin: (not sure he heard correctly, frowns, confused) Uhm?

Arthur: (holds his hands) Merlin, I have to tell you something. It's nothing bad and it's going to sound crazy once you hear, but you've been honest with me, so I want to be honest with you too.

Merlin: Okay.

Arthur: I... I'm not... I'm from...

Merlin: (worried) What? Arthur, you are shaking. (puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder) Are you okay?

Arthur: (sighs) I'm afraid of sleeping.

Merlin: Oh... is this because of that nightmare?

Arthur: (nods, embarrased) I've been having them for a while. But lately, they are turning worse.

Merlin: What are they about?

Arthur: I... don't remember once I wake up, but the feeling stays there.

Merlin: (knows Arthur is probably lying, but he doesn't push it, respecting his privacy) I don't recall you having nightmares when we were in the farm.

Arthur: Because we slept in the same bed-well, floor there. (holds Merlin by the waist) Your presence always fly the nightmares away.

Merlin: (mocks) Awww, who is being cheesy now? (but blushes at Arthur closeness) Maybe I could... you know... sleep with you tonight.

Arthur: (opens his eyes wide and smirks)

Merlin: (slaps his shoulder) Just to sleep, you pervert!

Arthur: I didn't say anything!

Merlin: And it will be just for tonight. To scare the nightmares away.

Arthur: Of course. Just for tonight.

And from then on, Merlin will never sleep in his chambers ever again.

...

In with this "The Nightmare Begins" ends.

Hope you enjoyed it ^^

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @braziiis , @rubinaitoart , @thebigoblin , @toomanyfanficsbruh , @farmboyprince , @nonsensefunsense

[solspina]

Absolution in Angelism

Luis Dante ⋆˙⟡

trapped within an endless and grotesque night terror, dante realizes that he’s been here a million times before. with his serf finally losing her title and nothing changing, something has to be done.!

have part two to my dante blurb because i can’t find motivation to write rn :( so sorry if this feels rushed!

tw: heavy descriptions of gore

tags: @ottobooty @kit-williams @moodymisty

the pulpy floor seemed to yield with every step dante took forward. blood splashed onto the golden calves of his armor with every sickening squelch the ground made, occasionally accompanied by the snapping and cracking of fragile and decayed bones. trapped pockets of air were released from the endless heap of flesh beneath his feet, emitting muffled gurgling in their wake. the air was thick with the stench of rot and putrescence, and it pooled in his throat with every shallow breath.

this was no battlefield; he had walked through those before and come out relatively unfazed. he had seen the bodies of his brothers, and been able to identify each one by their faces and mourn them as individuals. that wasn’t the case this time. instead, each face engraved into this unholy amalgamation of human meat was indistinguishable. if he looked hard enough, he could make out the shapes of different body parts. hands, feet, arms, faces here and there, all cauterized together into an unholy organic mixture.

but the sights, the horrors, were no longer new.

dante had been here before.

the soles of his boots were soaked in shimmering crimson, the gold underneath providing a metallic finish to the display of gore beneath him. he used to tremble at such an image, completely appalled by the gore and putrid smell of decay within this world. now, though, he simply continued walking.

the emotions this place had brought forth in him before now felt minuscule in comparison to what took their place.

he once hesitated to cut away at the arms that reached up to pull him down, for although this mound of flesh was undoubtedly a hive, each limb seemed to react to his presence as if it were an individual. the arms would recoil in pain, the hands would be crushed beneath his feet with a deafening crack, the faces would release guttural and piercing screams from their throats before blood erupted from their mouths as they choked.

axe mortalis no longer spared them it’s mercy.

once he believed them innocent. once he believed them individuals, some form of human.

but they tormented him. night after night they dragged him back into this morbid, pungent smelling nightmare. night after night they made him watch his personal serf be cradled in the arms of his beloved primarch, had his primarch been a bloodthirsty and hideous monster. night after night he watched die the woman who made him wish to keep living, her death unwanted but granted by the hands of the demi-god who had denied him the death he both wished for and deserved.

“dante…”

accompanied by his thoughts were the apparitions he had walked for miles to see.

she lay limp and nude in sanguinius’ arms, a familiar sight to the now scowling dante. the lips of the angel were wrapped in tight suction around the skin of her neck, and tears fell from her sorrowful and pained eyes.

many times, he had fallen to his knees and pleaded this monster for mercy. he had allowed it a thousand times to torment both him and the helpless serf in its arms. he no longer cared. he was not real, and neither was the blood dripping from axe mortalis or the endless sea of limbs that reached up to claim him. the fear, the sadness, the pain, all faded into resentment for this mockery of his primarch.

how dare it wear the face of the angel.

his expression remained unchanging as he pulled infernus from his waist and aimed at the chest of the false sanguinius, his hands steady and his voice firm as he spoke to the mimic.

“get your hands off of my wife.”

it’s lips departed from the woman’s neck as it’s face contorted into both confusion and shock. dante was not afraid of him? what had happened to the trembling and sobbing man that used to fall to its knees in anguish? was it abnormal in the modern world to use weaker serfs for blood letting?

no, dante had become just as much a terrifying spectre as the false sanguinius had. blood found itself on his body from head to toe, and he showed no sign of hesitation in pulling a gun on his beloved primarch.

“get your hands,” dante readied the great infernus, placing his finger on the trigger and closing one of his eyes. “off of my wife.”

“dante…”

his wife turned toward him, still caged in sanguinius’ arms, trembling as blood fell from her chin in waterfalls. her breathing remained shallow, now accompanied by wheezing and the occasional moan of pain as the angel dug sharp fingernails into her skin. blood trickled from those wounds, too.

“i love you, dante…”

his eyes closed at the bright flash of white light that consumed his vision.

with a hiss and the ringing of his ears, all had gone still.

had sanguinius killed him?

had he been pulled under again?

no. he could still feel the squelching of meat under his armor. he could still see red all around him. red, and only red. not the shining gold of noble armor or the white of two perfect wings…

red, and only red.

he had pulled the trigger.

he woke with a sharp intake of air, but without his heart skipping a beat this time.

he let out a sigh of relief, for the lack of him jolting awake meant that his peacefully sleeping wife could remain in her state of blissful rest. he looked upon her features, something he was seldom able to appreciate when she was merely his serf, a title much too low for someone of her beauty and compassion.

she had been up nearly every night with him, increasingly so after their marriage. bags had begun to develop under her eyes as a result of her constantly interrupted sleep.

maybe he would allow her rest this morning, rather than wake her to join him for his morning routine. a celebration, he would see it as, for their nightly routine was over.

finally over.

he had little time until his day would begin, and so he lay back down. his body faced the sleeping woman, his eyes continuing to memorize every centimeter and detail of her face.

he lay still for many moments, fighting the urge to close his eyes again and slip into the first peaceful dream he would have in years, a liberty only afforded due to his newfound protectiveness over his wife. for being his wife meant he could treat her as a serf no longer, she gave him duty to attend to… that of her life in the false primarch’s hands.

even after everything he had done both in his dreams and in the waking world, deserving this felt impossible.

it was death that he deserved. the sweet release of death, not the warm and loving embrace of a woman he once held in servitude and only recently brought up to his level. she deserved better long ago.

he moved his hand to gently remove a stray hair from her head, placing his palm down on her cheek once her hair had been tucked securely behind her ear. one final moment in bed to remember throughout the day, a reason to look forward to the next period of rest.

with a kiss placed gently to her forehead, he rose from the comfort of the sheets, immediately missing her warmth, wondering if he could make an excuse for not tending to his duties today.

no. he was responsible for half of the imperium. those duties could not wait.

though they would, if it were ever her need.

he walked toward his door, sparing her one final gaze before he turned his attention to axe mortalis, taking it in his hand as it surged to life with power at his touch, just as she had done to him. his spare hand reached for the keypad on the door, pausing to gaze at the foreign object taped over the numbers by the handle.

a paper, an incredibly small one in which words were inscribed upon its surface with the same pristine delicacy that dante’s smile held as he read over the writing.

“i love you, dante”

[beef-brisket]

Emily cringed: Yeah, fair enough... well, let me know if you need a hand. I'll get started on some dinner.

Adam smiled at his sister. Once she left, he could finally breathe. He enjoyed the silence. And the air smelled normal. Not musty like old wood.

Thankfully, Adam didn't actually feel sore. He thought giving birth leaves you in pain for weeks after. But he felt fine. Like it never happened.

He ran his hands over his body. Nothing had really changed. He thankfully didn't have tits. Well, bigger tits- pecks. His hips were slightly wider, but nothing his usual baggy shirts wont fix.

The only thing that sucks is his dick being gone, which hurts Adam's soul as much as he thought it would. He's devastated. Maybe he can beat that short creep up, make him bring his dick back. Then Adam will kick him in the dick for BEING a dick.

Yeah. That's a good plan. Lots of dicks involved. Just how Adam likes it.

But Adam will focus on payback after doing a few paragraphs of his essay.

Nearly an hour later, Emily walks in with some food, he almost didn't realize because of how in the zone he was.

Emily: ...Addy?

Adam: mm?

Emily: Food.

Adam perked up and looked over at his sister. He eyed what seemed to be pasta.

Adam: Fuck yeah. Thanks sis.

She hands it to him, and he starts eating while reading over what he typed.

Emily: You've done a lot... how is it coming?

Adam: Just have two more bullshit paragraphs- then the conclusion.

Emily: Wow. I didn't think you'd be done so quick.

Adam: I did do some before we left, the car ride here AND the first night here. I know I look like a loser stoner, but I'm not. Sometimes~.

Emily sighs: Mom wants you off the weed, Adam.

Adam: Don't rat me out, man... hey, uh. Can you not tell her what happened? She already worries about me too much, and this will make her chain me up in the basement and never see light again.

Emily: I mean- you are always getting into trouble.

Adam: No, I'm not!

Emily: ...you got kidnapped by a dead witch that YOU woke up.

Adam: Okay, fair. But I didn't know that bullshit would work! It's a fucking candle! Any cunt could have lit it.

Emily: And unfortunately that cunt was my brother. We told you not to.

Adam: ...I'm a cunt. What can I say?

Emily: Just. Eat your pasta and finish your report then shower. You look like you've just been kidnapped by witch and put through a whole day of trauma.

Adam: Ha! Bitch, you don't know the half of it. And I'm not traumatized. I'm fine! I'm ready to go back and kick his little ass!

Emily: Don't you fucking dare. We talked about this. Tomorrow, we're going home.

Adam: Yeah, yeah, I was joking. I'll spend the next five years beefing up, THEN I'll go back and kick his ass!

Emily: ...make that ten years.

Adam: Rude!

Emily laughed and left Adam to it.

Oh, he was going back all right. Maybe not tomorrow or next week. But he will be back, and he'll fuck that dude up. Assuming he hasn't been burned alive again. Stupid bastard.

Adam looks down. He can't help but wonder about the baby. Charlotte. She seemed to be crying when she was born, Adam wasn't really focused on her at the time. But he hopes she's okay. This crazy shit wasn't her fault.

Hopefully, she's a better person than him.

Charlie: Say it.

Lucifer: eh...

Charlie: Dad. Say it.

Lucifer: I-Immm. I'm s... sssss...

Charlie: Say. It.

Lucifer: ssssssooo... sssssooorrrr... charlie! This is hard!

Charlie: DAD!

Lucifer: Agh! Fine! I'm sorry for kidnapping you-eventhoughyoulitthecandle- forcing you to be pregnant with my hundreds of years old daughter, forcing that pregnancy to happen in a day, forcing you to stay in one birthing position, not cleaning you up afterwards, taking your bodily autonomy away AND forcing you to marry me. I'm sorry... A... Aa... Aaron.

Charlie: Adam!

Lucifer: Adam! I'm sorry, Adam!

Charlie: Very good.

Lucifer: Fantastic! Can you tell me where he is, now?

Charlie: No... you've lessened his pull to us, right?

Lucifer: Yes, I have.

Charlie: Then he'll come when he's ready. No more forcing. He'll come to us eventually. But when is not your concern. Until we see him, you need to learn some basic human skills. I have a lot to catch up on to! But this will be a great time to learn! So, again! From the top!

Lucifer: AGGGHHHHHI wish I was dead!

Charlie: Well, you're not. AGAIN!

Lucifer: I'm sorry, Anthony.

Charlie: Adam!

Lucifer: Adam!

I know that Halloween is over but I still gotta talk about this Hocus Pocus au I thought up

(Human) Adam just moved to Salem, the witch capital of the U.S and the whole town is telling ghost stories of Lucifer Morningstar, the famous male witch who swore he’d be back to take revenge on the townspeople before he was hung by the neck until dead.

Adam thinks this is a crock of shit, so he and his new friend Lute and his sister Emily sneak into Lucifer’s house (which has since been turned into a small museum) legend tells that Lucifer can only return if a virgin lights the black flame candle and Adam is being less than honest about his sexual exploits to his new friend.

As a joke to freak them both out he lights the candle. Unfortunately for him, it works and the witch appears in a violent gust of wind

That’s all I got but I just like the idea of Adam trying to escape from witch Lucifer

MY DUDE I LOVE THIS!!! @fanofstuff01 @beef-brisket

And I'm going to have him and Lute be like freshmen in college so Adams like 19-20 and Emily is like say a senior in high school her and Adam are a year apart.

And yes they had Emily out trick or treating because she's short en to get away with it and said "teenagers are allowed candy too".

-

Lute: Adam come on this isn't funny, the curse is real.

Adam: It's not real because witches and magic aren't real. The trails were just so they could hang a bunch of people who didn't agree with their beliefs.

They looked around the museum house and at night it's creepy especially being in the woods. Emily turned on a light so they could see.

Emily: Can we go?

Adam: No look at all this cool stuff! And that book? Says it's bound in real human flesh...... Gross.

Lute watched as Adam went over to the black candle.

Lute: Don't light that! If a virgin lights the candle it's said that Lucifer Morningstar will come back from the dead.

Adam burst out laughing: Good thing I'm not a virgin then.

Emily raised a brow: You only dated Eve for like a week.

Adam: You can have sex in a week!

The truth was they only made out a little bit and then her folks didn't want her having a boyfriend until after she graduated from high school.

So yes, Adam is a virgin. But his fucking sister doesn't need to know that!

He pulled out his lighter and smirked, curses and magic what a load of shit.

Lute: Adam no!

Adam lit the candle: See, nothing to-.....

The house started to violently shake, the floorboards glowed underneath and a laughter could be heard.

Lute: The fuck!?

Emily glared at Adam: A virgin lit the candle.

Adam: W-what!? It's okay! I'll just blow it out!

He blew out the candle but the flame came back.

Lute and Emily's eyes went wide when they saw a man that matches Lucifer's picture come out from the back room.

Lucifer: And who do I owe the pleasure to? Hmm? Oh, you.~

Adam turned around and jumped, what the fuck!?

Lute: We should go.

Adam: Good idea.

They all turn to run out the door, Emily and Lute make it out but the door slams in Adams face locking him in.

Adam: Fuck!

Emily bangs on the door: Adam!!

Adam tried pulling on the door but it was no use. Chills crept up his spine when a low laugh echoed in the room. He turned to see Lucifer standing there with his book now in hand.

Lucifer: Oh, you weren't leaving already were you?~

[maybejj]

The Beginning of Us.

Part 2

babydaddy!Rafe x sweetheart!reader

summary: You and Rafe were high school sweethearts that continued into college however Rafe went down the wrong path and you found out you were pregnant. 3 years later finds you and Rafe trying to navigate co-parenting your 2 year old son while overcoming life’s obstacles and past experiences.

warnings: swearing, rafe checking out reader

word count: 1.5k

You had just put Asher down for a nap, quickly getting your stuff together by the door. Your best friend, Ashton, was opening her own bakery store today and you promised her that you would be there to help. You had called Rafe earlier in the week to make sure he was available to watch Asher while you were gone, you both had trust issues when it came to having anyone else watch your son after what happened the last time.

When you had called Rafe, he said he was free to watch Asher, that he didn’t have anything else going on. That wasn’t the case. After you got off the phone, he immediately rescheduled all his meetings that fell on that Friday morning. His Dad was pissed off with him because of it but he couldn’t care less. His family, his son, came first. He would always be there for his son and you, if you’d let him.

Ever since Asher was born, he made a promise to himself that he would clean up his act and make up for how he treated you while you were pregnant with his son. He had a long way to go but he was trying.

You were putting your earrings on in the bathroom when you heard him come in. You could hear him set his stuff down on the counter in the kitchen before coming to find you.

Rafe came into view of the bathroom doorway, looming over you. He couldn’t help himself, his eyes traveled your figure. You were wearing a baby blue sundress that came down to your knees. The top half was tighter than the bottom, making your breasts sit very nicely, snug. The v-neck wasn’t too deep, just enough to leave your imagination running wild and his definitely was. You were beautiful, that was the simplest way to put it. Your figure had changed since you were together in high school and college but damn, you never looked better. If anything, he found you more attractive after birthing his son.

“Again, I’m sorry this is kinda late notice. I only told you about it a couple days ago. It completely slipped my mind until Ashton called me the other day and that’s when I called you-” You continued to ramble on until Rafe’s deep voice stopped you mid sentence.

“Don’t have to apologize, you’re allowed to have a life. Besides, this gives me an excuse to show Asher some new tractor catalogs I got in the mail the other day.” Rafe smiled at you, leaning against the doorway, “Little man asleep?”

You nodded while fluffing your hair and giving yourself one more glance over in the mirror. You were about to leave the bathroom but when you turned you noticed some of your hair sticking out of place.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. You turned back to the mirror and picked up your comb. Your hair was curled lightly but it had been giving you trouble all morning.

“You look good, stop stressing. You’re going to be late.” Rafe murmured, rolling his eyes half heartedly. You stopped with the comb halfway to your hair, slightly blushing after his comment.

Your relationship with Rafe was complicated. You were together for three years before you broke it off. You were done watching him waste his life away with drugs and alcohol in college but shortly after you ended things, you found out you were pregnant. To put it nicely, he was a complete asshole while you were pregnant. He wasn’t there for the appointments, the cravings, the hormones, the complications towards the end. The drugs took over his life and he took it out on you while you were the most vulnerable you had ever been.

Once Asher was born though, that’s when it changed. Rafe barely made it to the hospital when you went into labor but once he was allowed to see Asher for the first time? You swear you watched something switch in him. You didn’t even have to say anything to him, he said it for you.

He had tears in his eyes while holding his son for the first time, Asher was sleeping with his head resting on Rafe’s chest. You were watching them closely. You didn’t know if Rafe was currently high or not but you wanted him to at least see his son for the first time.

With silent tears running down his face, Rafe turned to you in the hospital bed, “I’m going to get better. For him. For you. I’m done. I don’t want my son growing up and seeing his father like this. He deserves better and so do you. I’m going to prove it to you.”

After he left the hospital that night, he checked himself into a six week rehab facility and stuck to his word. He hadn’t drank or done drugs since. He was slowly restoring your faith in him. It took a while to get where you were today but he was still determined to prove himself to you and Asher, he never stopped. While he was a good dad and a better person today, it was still hard to forget how he treated you while you were pregnant with his son. You tell yourself that’s why you weren’t together now. You had convinced yourself you both were better off just co-parenting.

Your phone ringing in the other room caught both of your attention, both of your heads snapping in the direction of the living room.

You excused yourself from the bathroom, brushing against Rafe as you made your way to your phone. You smiled as you answered, “I swear I’m about to leave.”

“You better be, I’m stressing out over here and I need my best friend ASAP!” Ashton’s hurried voice came across the phone.

“Deep breaths, I’m saying goodbye to Asher and then I’m heading your way. You’re going to do great.” You grabbed your purse as you put your phone against your ear and shoulder, sliding your sandals on at the same time.

“Give my namesake a hug and kiss for me! See you soon babe.” Ashton quickly said before hanging up. You had name your son after Ashton. You had been friends with her since you were 10 years old. You did everything together, including going to the same college. She was also there the entire time you were pregnant, taking you to every appointment and drying your tears.

You laughed before shoving your phone in your purse. Rafe had taken a spot on the couch and was trying to find a good channel to settle on. He raised his eyebrows in your direction when he saw you walking towards Asher’s room.

“I’m just going to poke my head into his room and give him a kiss. Thats all.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Rafe snorted, “If you’re in a hurry, I wouldn’t do that. You know it’ll wake him up.”

“Maybe but I have to say goodbye to my baby. And we both know you’re just as excited as him, if not more, to show him the tractor magazines.” You turned around and faced him while you talked, still walking backwards to your son’s room.

Rafes loud laugh followed you into Asher’s room as you opened the door. The room was painted red and blue, his favorite colors due to Spider-Man being his favorite superhero. You walked over to his bed, crouching down to his height. He was laying on his stomach, his arms and legs flopped crazily. You brushed his blonde hair away from his face and kissed his cheek.

“Mommy loves you so big baby.” You murmured. While he hadn’t been a planned baby, he was the best thing that ever happened to you.

Asher stirred gently at your hand against his face, his bright green eyes looking up at you. He instantly started waking up, a sleepy smile forming on his face. You smirked, Rafe was going to have so much fun chasing him around the apartment.

“Hi mommy,” Asher took one of his chubby hands and put it against your cheek. You turned your head and kissed the inside of his hand.

“Guess who’s here?”

Asher shot up so fast it nearly gave you whiplash.

“Daddy?!”

Before you could reply, Asher was running out of the room. You heard Rafe grunt from the living room while you started making your way back to them. When you got to the living room, you saw Rafe being smothered in a bear hug by Asher. Rafe just gave you a look that said, ‘I told you so’ while hugging Asher back.

“Alright I’m heading out now. Be good for daddy, Asher.” You blew Asher a kiss from the front door.

Rafe and Asher stopped what they were doing and looked your way. Rafe had a slight blush to his cheeks he was praying you couldn’t see and Asher was scrambling off the couch to get to you.

Asher barreled into your leg, “Bye Mommy!”

You ruffled his hair and hugged him back as best you could while he was hanging onto your leg, “See you later, baby.”

You sent Rafe a smirk. Asher was awake and full of energy now, he was going to have his hands full.

“Good luck.” You glanced at Rafe while he gave you a flat look. You laughed while you double checked one last time to make sure you had everything and stepped out the door.