#this idea came to me last night like a vision from the gods

[echo-has-queries]

Miraculous Ladybug Marigami AU where Adrien and Felix are literally just cats:

They are both rescues, of course. Adrien is a little shy at first but once he gets to know a person he is the cuddliest, most affectionate, most adorable little bean. He never misbehaves and he learns tricks happily and quickly. His owner, Marinette, loves him so much she is fully delusional about all cats surely being like this as well and Alya regularly has to stop her from getting more.

Now Felix on the other hand is a menace. A gremlin of epic proportion, he is constantly doing exactly what he knows he isn't supposed to and uncannily good at it. He won't just get into the stash of cat food, he'll get into the whole fridge somehow. Simultaneously he is completely unwilling to perform tricks no matter how you try to motivate him and he will scratch the fuck out of anyone who tries to touch him except for his owner: Kagami. Inexplicably he loves Kagami and Kagami only. For her he's cuddly and cute and loves riding on her shoulders or being carried by her but she need only point him at someone else and he starts hissing.

This is all well and good until Marinette and Kagami's relationship goes to the next level and they move in together.

Thinking Felix is like Adrien (they do look identical after all) Marinette tries to befriend him and gets shredded for her troubles. Kagami tells her to be careful with Felix: He just doesn't like anyone, it's not about her and she doesn't want Marinette getting hurt. Marinette says: "Of course, of course! Don't even worry about it!" But secretly she is determined to befriend that cat. That cat is her girlfriend's cat and it is going to love her too or clearly she is a terrible girlfriend and not worthy of Kagami. She goes through her typical Marinettesque schemes to befriend him: Food bribary, catnip perfume, stealing Kagami's perfume and clothes, buying him toys, letting him get away with his mischief - nothing works. He stays aloof and hostile, Marinette ending up with more scratches than healthy skin. She excuses them as sewing misshaps, but Kagami isn't stupid.

Eventually Kagami catches on to her girlfriend's suffering and asks her what's going on. Marinette breaks down and admits what she's been trying to do but that she's failed. That Felix still hated her and so inevitably Kagami would come to hate her too because if she doesn't get along with her cat then how could Kagami ever love her? Kagami tells her she's being stupid, shocking Marinette out of her anxiety attack. Kagami reassures her that Felix hates everyone and Kagami knows this. She would never require for a girlfriend of hers to befriend him because that would be impossible. Yes, Felix is important to her but Marinette is too. She wants to stay her girlfriend and the only thing she needs Marinette to do in regards to Felix is live comfortably in the same flat as him. If she can do that without constantly being attacked, without suffering - which Kagami is willing to help with, she doesn't want to put Marinette alone through trouble to make this work - then that's all that matters.

Marinette apologises for going behind her back with this whole thing and not just being honest from the start and they finally settle into cohabitation. Marinette loves Kagami so much it's easy for her to put up with needing to avoid Felix and simply ignore the cat. Adrien and Felix get along fine with each other, surprisingly. They don't cuddle often but Felix does seem to take some form of liking to the other cat, often mirroring with him and sometimes even playing. It takes a few more instances of getting scratched or hissed at until Marinette can tell Adrien and Felix apart on sight and from then on she simply enjoys having her own cuddly kitty and her wonderful girlfriend.

Felix is not happy about this. He does not like sharing his owners attention and the at first only annoying new human in his territory becomes his enemy. He lingers and watches at first, always a far too clever cat. Her room is locked to keep him out but doors have never stopped him for long. He has a secret way outside that the goodie-two-paws Adrien never uses but Felix is braver than him and so he waits for his opportunity. One day Marinette leaves her bedroom window open while she's rushing to buy another stretch of fabric, the deadline of her newest and most complex project yet looming, and Felix strikes.

Marinette comes home to find the dress she was sewing in tatters, her room in utter disarray and having been stressed out of her mind already completely breaks down. Kagami comes home to find her girlfriend crying curled up on the floor, surrounded by the evidence of Felix's crime. Now Kagami would see how useless this human was and go back to paying attention to only him.

Except that's not what happens. When Kagami goes to him and picks him up it's to drop and lock him in the bathroom. It's trivial for him to escape but that she put him there in the first place is irreconcilable. And freed all he can do is watch as Kagami holds and comforts the other human, petting her head the way he should be getting petted. No! This is wrong! He has to do something! He tries to go to Kagami pretending to be Adrien but the other cat is already curled supportively in Marinette's lap and Kagami would have recognised him anyway and she says: "Felix, no! Bad cat!" He is sent away, out of the room. Away from his beloved owner. And just like that Felix's world crumbles. He was a bad cat? His Kagami had called him a bad cat?? All because of that girl!? It was all her fault! Except, no. Felix was a smarter cat than that. He knew that it was his own fault.

Kagami asks for an extension on Marinette's project for her and the client is only too happy to allow it. Marinette's work is so excellent, they say, that any wait is worth it. "See?", Kagami tells her. "It's going to be alright. I'm sorry about Felix I don't understand what's gotten into him. I'll take him to the vet tomorrow." Marinette asks her what if he just hates her? What if he will always hate her? "He won't", Kagami promises her. "Nobody could ever hate you forever, Marinette. Not even Chloé Bourgeois did, remember?" And that did cheer Marinette up because it was funny to think of a cat as a bigger diva than Chloé Bourgeois. "I love you", Marinette tells Kagami. "I love you too", Kagami responds. And in Marinette's lap Adrien meows his own agreement.

The next day Felix is taken to the vet but other than extreme grumpyness nothing seems to be wrong with him. The vet says if he had a few more symptoms like lack of appetite he would say he's depressed but it is likely he is simply acting out because he does not like a recent change in his environment. Kagami is down her whole way back home and so is Felix. "I don't want to give you up", she tells the cat, having always felt that he could understand her. He is such a smart cat, sometimes to his own detriment. "But I'm not giving up her either. Please don't cleave my heart in two, Felix." And Felix responds with a miserable little mewel.

Things are calm at the flat for the next few days. Marinette is busy with her project and Kagami takes Felix to her room most days, still worried he'll act out again. This is what Felix wanted but somehow it doesn't feel like a victory. He doesn't like it when Kagami is sad like this and he doesn't like that he is the cause of that sadness.

When Marinette is finally done with the dress she collapses into Kagami's arms for the next few days. She's overworked herself as usual to make up for the therefore minimal delay. Kagami thinks it's admirable and cute but since meeting Marinette and falling for her she's also realised the toll of excellence and recognising that in Marinette made her rethink those values. Now she takes it easy from time to time and wishes Marinette would push herself less as well. But that is a problem she can adress another time. For now she is happy to cuddle and comfort her girlfriend as long as she needs it and longer. Adrien comes walking up then, meowing politely as he always does before jumping up onto the couch with them to support his Marinette. Kagami adores Felix but she has to admit Adrien's more generous affection has grown on her. He cuddles up to Marinette and is happy with Kagami's headscratches, purring contently as Marinette stroked his back and held him close.

Then Adrien walks into the room, meowing politely as he always does before hesitating as he sees there is already a cat on the sofa with his owner. Marinette and Kagami both look at him in wonder, then down at the cat they were already petting, then at each other, then back at the cat. "Felix?", Kagami asks and he meows, seeming to still as if anticipating trouble. Marinette has frozen up too, hand hovering over his back. He'd never let her pet him before. Not even a little bit. Carefully Marinette resumes her strokes and after another moment Felix resumes his purring, seeming to never break eye contact with Kagami. Kagami looks at her cat and her girlfriend and can't help but smile. When Marinette looks back up to her it is with tears and glee in her eyes. With the hand not petting Felix she pulls Kagami into a soft kiss. Adrien, finally seeming to decide that any lap will do, jumps up and cuddles into Kagami, prompting a bit of a chuckle from Marinette. She scratches him under his chin with her free hand which requires some contortion as she avoids having to move Felix. Then she contently leans into Kagami, feeling entirely at home for the first time.

Felix is still a beast, still more likely to misbehave than to not. But he knows to leave Marinette's room alone and doesn't scratch her anymore. The degree of affection from that one night stays a novelty, but Marinette can give him a pet or two without him fleeing or complaining. Now the only ones at risk of falling into the trap of thinking they are approaching Adrien and instead get four sets of claws of Felix are Marinette and Kagami's guests. Alya simply learns not to approach and let Adrien approach her instead. Juleka gently stops Rose from trying to cuddle Felix despite his protests. Alix makes it a challenge for herself to pet him and retreat fast enough so he can't scratch her in time. Kim launches little balls of paper at both cats until Marinette and Kagami tell him to stop, despite neither cat exactly hating the experience. Chloé was never interested in pets, saying she hates to get fur on her expensive clothes, though one day Marinette catches Chloé petting Felix anyway and Felix letting himself be pet by her. Marinette can't decide if it's a miracle or an omen but either way, Chloé doesn't hear the end of it for weeks. Max just has Makov pet Felix which also works, somehow. Nino is far too busy playing with Adrien every time he comes over to even notice Felix glaring from one of his high perches around the house.

Marinette wants to build him a cat wall. Kagami wants to buy them all a whole house before they drill into a rented apartment wall. Marinette doesn't want to ask for such a huge investment from just Kagami until they're married. Kagami's response of: "Alright, then let's get married", leaves Marinette bright red and in a state of mania for three days.

They compromise on some renter friendly cat accomodations for now.

[radio-writes]

Going on anon bc this is a bit messed up but can you write Alastor x reader where Alastor uses sex as a form of torture?

Fuck your God and His Righteous Hand(s)

Synopsis: Hasn't Alastor always been such generous partner? Hasn't He always provided for you? Given you everything and anything you ever wanted? Except for your freedom of course.

The night you decide to run away from his graciousness, you find out just how generous he could be.

Warnings: noncon, forced relationship, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, physical harm to reader, degradation, smut, over stimulation, tentacles are used (I probably missed a lot, let me know)

Tags: Alastor x fem!reader; dead dove do not eat

MDNI

Your heart beat loudly against your chest, your breath ragged and heavy. Branches and twigs snapped and broke and fell all around you as you ran.

Not that you could hear any of it over the overwhelming sound of static flooding your ears. 

As if the dark wasn't terrifying enough, you had to stumble through the woods with tears blurring your vision too. Arm stretched in front of you, swatting away vines in your path as you desperately tried to get away.

You had to get away.

You couldn't get away.

You could almost feel the ground shake beneath your feet. You could almost feel his breath that skimmed the back of your head. There was no use in running, but run you did anyway.

You kept running even when you felt his clawed fingers grab at your shirt; the fabric tearing easily.

You kept running even when you could hear his voice right by your ear. "I think it's in your best interest not to anger me any more, darling."

You couldn't keep running when a heavy, velvety tentacle wrapped around your ankle; your breath knocked out of you as you tumbled onto the forest floor.

Your hand outstretched, palm reaching into the darkness. It was a terrifying, unknown, and threatening darkness—but to you it still meant freedom.

That was the last clear thing you saw before you landed flat on your stomach, the weight of your failed escape weighing you down more than the dark shadow around your leg. 

He was laughing.

He was out of breath, panting almost as heavily as you were, but he was laughing.

You heard the crunch of leaves and twigs as he approached your collapsed form. No longer rushing, no longer frantic. He seemed to take his time as he walked towards you, now that he's sure you couldn't get away.

Still, the tentacle holding you down tightened—a warning not to try anything again.

Not that you could. The moment of rest allowed to you as you laid on the ground, made the pain and exhaustion of your body much too apparent for your liking. Your legs felt like led, the numerous scratches from who-knows-where all sung in a harmony of stinging pain.

Even when you knew you couldn't run anymore, your mind frantically whirled through ideas. You tried to think of something, anything, to keep away from the Radio Demon.

At least until his shoes finally came into your view; the red accents bright against the inky darkness. They stopped right by your head, and suddenly it felt too dangerous to even think.

You found the dirt and mud of the forest floor much more appealing than having to look Alastor in the eye, so you kept your head down. Your head shrunk into the ground as the man looked down on you.

"I must admit, I hadn't expected you to run." Alastor said, still a hint of laughter in his tone. Had you looked up then, you would have seen just how much of a mess you've made of the demon. His hand pushed his red hair back from his forehead, sweat trickled down the side of his neck. 

But it wasn't his unusual state of exhaustion that would have been shocking if you looked at him right now. No, what would have been surprising—what would have been unnerving— was the wild, desperate look in his glowing red eyes.

While you were scared, desperate to get away.

He was terrified, desperate to get you back.

The view of your small figure as you weaved through trees, dipping in and out of his sight had filled him with such cold, heavy dread.

Almost as much as the sight of your hand nearly meeting that of another demon's.

"Oh! But you're so filled of the unexpected today, aren't you, darling?" You could hear the spite in his tone, but you didn't dare raise your head.

You felt him step closer.

"I mean, I hadn't expected you to try to sell your soul to another demon, either." You cringed, lifting your arms over your ears as the static warped his voice terribly.

You felt a heavy weight on the back of your head. It rested there briefly, before it shoved you down further into the dirt. Your face pressed down into the mud, but you didn't dare fight back. You didn't dare move. The most reaction you allowed yourself was a small whimper of fear.

The sound fueled Alastor's rage, already barely kept under the surface of his smile. His eye twitched in annoyance. Why were you shaking? Why were you afraid? 

Shouldn't you be kissing the foot on your head right now? Shouldn't you be thanking him for saving you from making a terrible mistake? A soul as unique as yours would have been wasted on a demon like that. 

This ungrateful behavior, this attempt to leave him, just wouldn't do.

His foot left the back of your head, but it allowed no relief. The black tentacle wrapped around your leg swiftly yanked you up.

Your eyes widened in shock and your hands dug into the ground in an attempt to stay there. But it isn't a surprise that your flimsy resistance was easily broken through. The world soon turned into a dizzying blur of colors as you were lifted into the air. The trees floated from above and the sky was a muddy mess of leaves and roots, your arms hung limply above your head. The blood that now rushed to your head didn't help you in making much sense of what was happening.

But none of that mattered when your eyes finally met Alastor's.

As you were held up by your leg, upside down in the air, Alastor's usual wide smile looked like a snarling frown. His narrowed eyes did nothing to help the fear that quickly ate its way through you.

It was silent for a moment. Tension so thick in the air that you found it so terribly difficult to breathe.

But when he finally spoke, you thought to yourself how you actually preferred the suspenseful quiet.

"Have I not been the perfect partner?" Alastor asked. The static over his voice now eerily back to the usual amount. His tone was cheery, light, like this was just another early morning chit chat over breakfast between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak.

The black appendage holding you up tightened, your skin already beginning to bruise. Although, it seemed that was the only indicator of Alastor's true mood, as the demon remained composed in front of you.

"Have I not given you everything you wanted?" He asked as he brought you closer to him.

When you didn't respond he brought his clawed hand up to your face. 

You flinched, feeling his cold skin against yours, fearing that he'd tear right through your flesh. 

But his touch was gentle. His fingers softly brushed away the mud and grime from your cheek. 

"I've bought you everything you liked. I've protected you. Fed you." His voice was so soft, soothing. Like an old radio show you would have listened to while you drifted off to a restful slumber. 

"I've even fucked you through your pathetic little heats." His claws dug into your skin. Blood gushed down your face, the scarlet liquid stung your eye even as you clenched it closed. 

"I've spared useless, disgusting sinners on your request. I've played nice for you. I've given you everything." His hand shifted from your cheek to your neck, his grip tight, threatening.

The static over his voice once again horrid as it deafened you. His eyes, now drowned in black, narrowed into a glare at your form.

Your hands flew to your throat, pulling at Alastor's fingers. "Please, I'm sorry, Al!" You begged as you struggled. Your body flailed and squirmed as he held you above him, looking almost like a fish torn from the sea, desperate to breathe.

"Oh you're sorry?" Alastor's head titled to one side as he watched you. "That absolutely changes everything then!" He said cheerily, mockingly.

The tentacle holding you up loosened out of nowhere, sending you down into the mud for a second time that night.

You managed to keep yourself up by your arms as you greedily heaved in air back into your lungs. Your head still spun from the rush of blood, and you felt like you were about to vomit out whatever flesh Alastor made you eat earlier that day.

You felt something at your chin—Alastor's microphone it seemed—and it tilted your face towards him. Your teary eyes met his cheerful ones, and your chest tightened. It's been a long time since you've even stepped outside, but you now felt more trapped than you ever have before.

He bent down, lowering his face closer to yours as he smiled down at you. 

"Since it seems like I've neglected my dear darling partner for so long that they've decided to seek attention elsewhere, I think it's best to spend some nice quality time together. Don't you think that'd be nice, sweetheart?" Alastor's voice held no threats. Promises. Only promises.

You shook your head no before he even finished talking. A desperate shaking hand reached up to him. "No, please. Al. Anywhere but the radio tower again. Please."

"Don't worry, doll. This time will a bit different." He assured.

You moved quickly, hurriedly, scrambling to your knees ready to beg at his feet. But before you could even part your lips to start, Alastor had both of you melted into shadows.

You re-materialize in the one place that haunted your dreams. The one place in Hell that truly, actually, did feel like hell to you.

Your blood felt frozen as you remained on the floor. Eyes wide in fear as you stared at the control panel.

Alastor turned his back to you, humming cheerfully, nonchalantly, as he made his way towards the main seat. "There's no need to look so alarmed," He said, you could almost hear the way his eyes rolled at your stupid expression. "We won't be having any special guests for this broadcast."

You finally tore your eyes away from the contraptions. Your gaze landing on Alastor's wide back as he slowly removed his coat. "You...you won't be torturing some poor soul?" You asked confused—and admittedly a little hopeful.

You couldn't count the horrible days he had made you sit and watch and listen as he took his sweet time tearing souls apart. How he joyously broadcasted the tortured screams for his Hell's entertainment.

Alastor's grin widened, stretched just a tad bit too far, before he turned his head to look back at you.

"Oh," Heavy static morphed his voice once more. "I didn't say that."

You didn't have time to react before his tentacles sprouted from his back, his inner shirt ripping to make way for them. They grabbed at your limbs, slithering around to get a tight hold as they pulled you to him.

A scream ripped from your throat at the sheer suddenness of it, and it made Alastor's heart leap in his chest. Oh how he loved those adorable reactions of yours.

"That is delightful! But do save your voice, dear. I do have to start us off first," He said gleefully as he turned around to fiddle with the controls.

You heart sunk. Eyes wide as the realization hit you. He wasn't going to force you to listen to someone being tortured. 

"Alastor, wait—"

"Why hello, you wayward sinners! Hope everyone's having a wonderfully hellish time right now, because boy do I have quite the treat to make your evenings even better!" Alastor spoke into the mic, his eyes gone black as he held your gaze. "Yes, indeed, this one is going to be very special." 

"Al, please—" You bit your lip, cutting off whatever pleas you were going to throw at him.

One of his tentacles pressed against your clothed mound as the others held you in the air. It quickly worked its way under your bottoms, ripping through it easily and exposing you to Alastor's lazy gaze. 

"Don't, please. I'm so sorry, Al. I won't do it again, I promise, please." You whispered, not wanting all of Hell to hear how you begged for mercy.

"What's that, darling? I'm afraid you'll have to be a little louder for our lovely, horrid, listeners." Alastor mocked, just as the tentacle between your legs started to slide between your folds. Another made quick work of your already torn shirt.

You grit your teeth and clenched your eyes closed. Stubbornly, you refused to make a single sound from Alastor's ministrations.

But you know how this ends.

You're hardly the first soul he had broken during a broadcast.

You, of all people, knew that well.

Another one of his appendages slithered its way to your core. It teased at the entrance, pushing, testing your hole.

"I hope everyone has a lovely time!" You hear Alastor speak to his listeners, just as a scream ripped through your lips.

You weren't nearly wet enough to take him. Your walls resisted, but not enough for his strength. The black shadow pushed its way deep into you, others coiled at your legs to spread them apart. One remained by your clit, lazily flicking along. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cried as Alastor fucked his tentacle deep into you. The harsh thrusts sending your ample chest bouncing.

Alastor didn't respond, he rarely ever does to his victims. He preferred to let the song of their anguish play uninterrupted. But he did find himself paying more attention than he usually did to the way your body reacted to him.

His gaze locked at the way his black shadow disappeared into your slick hole. How it came back to light drenched in your juices, only to push back in harsher. How your little pussy stretched wide around his tentacle to accommodate its size.

His eyes traveled further up, watching as he wrapped one tentacle around your breast and squeezed. A lovely horrified sound coming from your lips from his actions.

He watched as you sobbed, attention fully on him. Only on him. And he couldn't deny the rather unfamiliar heat the pooled in his stomach at that fact.

The tentacle at your clit moved faster, pressing down just the slightest bit more at that little bud. You tried your damndest to silence the screams from your throat, but as your mouth fell open, you could only do so much.

The coil in your gut snapped easily. Alastor tightening his hold on you as he kept your spasming form in the air for his entertainment.

Your juices flowed down his dark appendages as it kept up the pace. Tears forming in your eyes as they gave you no reprieve, no time recover.

You fight against his hold, aching to close your thighs and catch your breath but the dark shadows merely pulled them apart wider. You pulled at you arms, wanting to push away the damned things from your core but you were merely held back the same way.

"Wait, please, stop." You were barely able to form a coherent sentence. The tentacle inside you opting to curl just the right amount to hit that soft, perfect spot inside you with every thrust. That spot that Alastor knew drove you wild when he fucks you through your heat, after a lot of begging on your end, at least.

You clenched down on it, that being the only thing you could think of that you could still do to slow this down. It unsurprisingly did nothing but make you feel more of each drag and pull against your walls.

Another orgasm is stolen from you as a tentacle began to grind itself up and down your sloppy slit, drenching itself in your slick as it attempted to join the one already fucking you. Your screams broadcasted for all of Pride Ring to hear.

It doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. His dark shadows held you still, fucking into your cervix without mercy, playing with your clit, your breasts. Pulling yet another sloppy orgasm from you.

"No more," You heaved. Alastor's assault seeing no end near. "I can't. Al, please." You begged.

You craned your neck over to look back at the demon. You find his gaze no longer on you or your body, but on the papers in front of him. His script. 

He was idly jotting down notes, chin rested on the palm of his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He almost looked bored, but the twitch of his ear as you called out his name showed you he was still paying you some attention. 

"Alastor, please," You tried again. "I am sorry. I won't do it again. I won't leave you again." You sobbed.

The tentacle inside you pulled out to your brief relief, only for it to slam harshly, deeper back into you. It's pace at breakneck speed that even with the tight hold around your limbs, your body was moved with every push and pull. 

"Oh, I'm sure you won't, darling." He finally replies to your pleas, although he didn't even glance your way. He continued correcting his notes, your sweet begging made for a wonderfully sweet background song. "Because why would you ever leave someone as generous as me?"

He ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. Your release dripped and drenched the floor of his radio tower. You begged til your throat was raw for some reprieve, for some forgiveness. But Alastor went about his way around the studio. Fixing this and that. Barely paid you any mind.

It was only when you've stopped pulling against his hold. When your legs had gone slack in the air, and your screams faded into whimpers did Alastor finally approach the control panel again.

"Wasn't that just darling! A wonderful performance, if I do say so myself," He laughed into his microphone. "I'm sure you lewd folks enjoyed yourself as much as our star of the night here, so make sure to keep an ear out for my next broadcast!"

His eyes finally land on your exhausted body. Your chest heaved with every labored breath as Alastor's tentacles finally slowly pulled out of you. A wet shlop of your juices dripping out as it did. 

He slowly lowered you onto the ruined floor, and your dazed eyes locked with his.

"There will definitely be more of where that came from." He said, less of his usual cheer. His tone lower. Threatening—no, promising.

You didn't move—you couldn't move—from the floor. You simply watched as Alastor shut down his broadcast and took his time straightening out and cleaning up his work station. He was humming cheerfully, seeming to be in a much better mood than when the night had begun.

When he was finally satisfied, you watched as he walked to where you were, stopping by your feet as he smiled down at you.

"Well, you've definitely seen better days." A laugh track followed his mockery. 

"I'm sorry." You heaved out. You hoped this was the end of it. You hoped he would just throw you back and lock you in his room again. Anything but stay in this wretched radio tower. "I'm yours. I won't try to run anymore."

Alastor chuckled at your response, moving to rest his cane against the wall before he reached up to his neck. He slowly loosened his bowtie and unbuttoned his shirt. "Oh I know you know that." He said waving off your words as if they didn't matter.

He lowered himself over you, his towering figure blocking out what little light you had. "But I'm afraid I need a bit of a reminder about who you belong to." 

His hand made quick work of his trousers, pulling his hardened cock free.

His claws were at your waist and they pulled your limp body closer to him. Not that you offered any resistance.

"You can do one more for me can't you darling?" He wasn't really asking.

You can't. But you nod your head anyway.

He pushed into you easily. Your previous releases coated him and allowed a slicker entry. 

Your back arched despite exhaustion, and Alastor drank in your pained expression. "There's a good girl. Always ready to ruin herself for her lover." You heard him say. "Don't worry, I won't make this long."

But of course that was a lie. He pulled back so slowly, revering in the way your drenched walls felt around him; how they clenched around his cock like how he saw them do around his tentacle. Then he thrusted himself back harshly into your sloppy hole, forcing what little sound you could still make out from your lips.

He fucked into you, slowly, deeply, maddeningly. Making sure you both felt each and every drag of his heavy cock.

He wasn't one to crave sex as much as most of hell, but when it was with you—his precious partner, he had to admit he didn't hate the sensations all too much. And if it meant reminding you who was in control, if it meant making you owe him, making you dependent on him, making you crave him, then it was all the more enjoyable to see you fucked out and speared on his dick.

One of his hands made its way to the back of your neck, pulling you up into his lap. He fucked up into you as your head lolled to the side, struggling to keep your body upright.

Alastor drank in your expression. Your glazed over eyes, the tear stains that smeared through the mud and blood along your cheeks, the drool dripping from your split lips. Yes, this is what you deserved for even daring to leave him. This is what you needed to be reminded on just how good a partner he is.

He wrapped a tentacle around your hips, keeping you steady as he pounded his cock into you. His free hand now moved between you, to your clit.

Your hips spasmed as he drew quick circles on the bud, but you fought the instinct to squirm away. You wouldn't leave him. 

You can't leave him.

You know that now.

Alastor's grin widened when he noticed your actions. "There's a good girl." He purred again, leaning down to your neck to lick up your skin.

"Let me feel you cum on my cock now, darling. Let me feel how much you want me to fill you up." He whispered, his sweet voice right by your ear as he pressed down harder on your clit.

You whined, tears pouring from your eyes once more as he tore yet another orgasm from your weakened body.

Your fluids drenched his dick, soiling his pants as you came around him. Alastor all but tore your skin as he gripped you tight. His own pace finally picked up.

You felt him twitch inside you, before the hot feeling of his seed soothed your battered cunt. 

"Tell me, would that scum have let you cum like this?" Alastor whispered in your ear. He held you tightly, his head still at the crook of your neck.

"No," You responded weakly. You felt him twitch inside you again.

You tried your hardest not to think back to the poor sinner, ripped limb from limb in a blink of an eye. Their body likely still stomped down into the mud of the forest floor.

"Would any other wretched soul be able to give you what I give you?" Alastor asked again. He playfully nipped at your ear.

"No," You responded again.

"So who do you think can treat you, treasure you, best, my dear?" He pulled back, his smug smile loomed over you as he held your chin for you to keep his gaze.

"You, Alastor. Only you can treat me this good." The words were bitter in your mouth

You hadn't sold him your soul. And he would never ask for it.

But you were his and his alone, nonetheless.

"And don't you ever forget it." He mused, pushing you back down to the floor as he began to fuck himself inside of you again. His previous release slowly pushed out with every slow thrust.

"Be still for me, darling," He whispered sweetly. "Let me have my fill of you for now." 

I don't usually write smut but this request sent me haywire. Hope I didn't disappoint, anon! I loved your demented request ♪

[brbiekiss]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ heartbreak summer ft, sae itoshi

currently playing ♪ playlist — heartbreak summer ♪

pairing. sae itoshi x f!reader

summary. after your friend finds out her recent ex has been in the news tabloids with yet another girl, your idea of get back turns your entire night into an unfortunate series of events with the final outcome landing you directly in front of re al’s star football player, and you’re about to kiss him.

warnings. smut, swearing, toxic relationships & behaviour (not too much from sae surprisingly), angst

୨୧. chapter two, blackout

you have no idea how it happened. for a moment you was searching for kaia, who had mysteriously disappeared after oliver aiku spotted her in the club, dragging her away. and the next moment, your hands were in some man’s hair, was it auburn? brunette? your face itching closer and closer to his as he held the side of your face with one hand, and the other on your hip, dangerously itching somewhere you know shouldn’t be.

god, your head was fuzzy.

you remember gripping onto his shirt a little, trying to balance yourself, the thought of drinking so much being a bad idea lingering in your head for a moment. you looked up at him, those eyes are gorgeous, this man is beautiful.

and just like that, your lips were on his, his hands a little firmer as he held you in place as he kissed you, noticing your lack of balance. you couldn’t help but tug his hair slightly as he ran his tongue on the bottom of you lip, causing him to let out a quiet, but deep breath, smirking down at you. he then pulled away for a second, catching the breath you just took from him as he rested his hand between the nape of your neck.

“do you want to come back to mine, amor?”, he speaks in a soft, velvety tone, his head tilted slightly.

you pause, frowning, “ew no..”, causing his brows to raise slightly and the corners of his mouth daring to twitch into a soft smile.

6:48 am

the feeling of your head throbbing and the scratchiness of your throat causes your eyes to squint while your brain finally registers the brightness coming through the blinds, “what the fuck..”

you move your arms, sitting yourself up slightly on your bed, looking around to see your still in the clothes from the night before, with the feeling of makeup still on your skin and wait, is that-

“what the fuck?!”, you half yell, seeing a shirtless man sleeping way too peacefully in your own bed.

“huh?”, he frowns, his eyes half open now, squinting to look at you, “oh, g’morning.”

morning?!?

“why are you in my bed..?”, you ask, confused.

“i came home with you.”, he says. bit creepy.

“we didn’t- did we?”, you ask in pure confusion again. your clothes were on, but here was some random shirtless man in your bed, you couldn’t think of any other reason why he’d be here.

“no, we just slept.”, he makes himself comfortable on your bed, looking at you as he answers.

“right… okay.”, you pause, trying to comprehend what even happened last night.

“well, if you just wanna… grab that.. and like, leave?”, you say, your eyes roaming your room before bending down and grabbing his shirt, throwing it at him.

he looks down as you throw his shift, looking back up at you, his eyes weirdly innocent, “oh you want me to go?”

obviously?, “um.. yes.”

he pauses for a moment, as if he was contemplating something, tilting his head at you, it was cute actually.

“why?”

you frown at him, baffled by his pure obliviousness or whether he was just being difficult.

“i don’t want you here anymore, i have roommates.”

“oh, okay.”, he says like he finally understands, “do you want my-“

you cut him off quickly, “no!”, you pause, “um.. no thanks, we don’t need to do that.”

“damn, okay.”, he says, finally putting his shirt back on, getting up from her bed and grabbing his phone.

“you know where the door is?”

“yeah, i know.”, he states, walking past you before giving you a final look, leaving your vision as you hear the front door open then close.

you sigh loudly, rubbing your forehead before walking over to the mirror of your vanity, looking at yourself, “oh yikes.”

the next day

navigation. heartbreak summer

next chapter. three

authors note. thank you sm for everyone reading 🫶🏻 i genuinely love writing this story. also sae is so awkward in this im giggling 😭

taglist. @vaelils @shironagi

[natsaffection]

HEAR ME OUT!!! Can you make Gp nat and fem reader like they are having hate sex like they hate each other but continues to do hook ups no string attached then like one night like anyother at a party they and up together making out then Y/n said "We should really stop this" between kisses then nat said "Yeah" "You're right we should" then add "but I can't help my self " LIKE ACCKKK!!!!!

Heated. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Hate Sex, begging, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1,6k

A/N: I don't know where you all get this idea from...🧍🏻‍♀️

The night was filled with energy, the bustling sounds of conversations, laughter, and music filled the large hall. The Stark Tower was hosting one of its infamous parties, a mix of Avengers, allies, and high-profile guests mingling under the subdued ambient lights. You stood at the bar, sipping a drink and letting your gaze wander over the crowd. It didn't take long for your eyes to fall again on Natasha.

Natasha was a vision in an elegant black dress that accentuated every curve, her red hair cascading over her shoulders. She was deep in conversation with Steve, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. You knew her well enough to notice the brief, covert glance she threw your way. It was always like this... a charged tension simmering beneath the surface whenever you were in the same room.

You had a complicated relationship, to say the least. What started as an unintentional one-night stand during a particularly grueling mission briefing had evolved into a series of heated, secret encounters. There was no love between you, your interactions were driven by mutual frustration and undeniable physical attraction. Hate sex, so to speak. And tonight seemed to follow the same script.

Your heart raced as Natasha made her way through the crowd towards you, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. The room seemed to shrink, the noise fading to a dull hum as she approached.

"Nice to see you here," Natasha purred as she leaned against the bar. "I could say the same about you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I thought parties weren't your thing."

"They're not," Natasha admitted, a sly smile on her lips. "But sometimes you have to make an appearance."

You sipped your drink, not taking your eyes off Natasha. "And I thought you only came to see me." Natasha laughed softly, the sound sending a shiver of desire through your body. "Don't flatter yourself," she said, though her eyes told a different story.

You chatted casually, a hint of politeness barely masking the underlying tension. The banter was a familiar dance, each word loaded with double meanings and hidden desires. As the evening wore on, the attraction between you became harder to ignore. "Do you want to get out of here?" Natasha's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear.

Without a word, you nodded, and the two of you slipped out of the party, heading to a secluded part of the tower. The elevator ride was tense, the air thick with anticipation. As the doors finally opened, there was no time wasted; Natasha pushed you against the wall, her lips meeting yours in a desperate kiss.

"God, I hate you," you muttered between kisses, your hands tangling in Natasha's hair. "The feeling's mutual," Natasha breathed, her hands exploring your body with familiar urgency.

You stumbled into Natasha's room, the door barely closing before you were on each other again. Your hands slid under Natasha's dress, feeling the heat of her skin. Natasha let out a soft moan, her hips pressing against you.

"We said last time that it was over.." you gasped as you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against hers. "We should really stop doing this," you murmured, your breath mingling with Natasha's. "Yeah, you're right, we should," Natasha agreed, her voice husky. "But I can't help myself."

Your lips met again, this time more passionately, hands exploring familiar territory. „Your body..“Natasha's touch was possessive, as if she wanted to claim you all over again. „Your Tits..“

Your hands moved to the straps of Natasha's dress, pulling them down to expose her breasts. Natasha's breath hitched, her eyes darkening with lust as your mouth found her nipple, sucking and teasing with your tongue. Natasha's hands fumbled with your belt, the need to feel skin against skin overwhelming.

"Bed. Now," Natasha commanded, her voice brooking no argument. You stumbled towards it, shedding clothes along the way. Natasha pushed you onto the bed, straddling you and taking control. Her eyes burned with intensity as she looked down at Her her hand gripping her length and stroking slowly.

"Do you always have to be in control?" you teased, your breath catching as her grip tightened. "Shut up," Natasha hissed, biting your neck hard enough to leave a mark. "You love it."

"You're insufferable," you groaned, your hands grasping her hips. "Control freak."

"Maybe I am," Natasha replied, her voice a seductive purr. She stands in front of you and pushes herself into you, inch by inch. Both of you moaned at the sensation, the feeling of being connected driving you insane.

Natasha began to move, setting a rough rhythm that left you both gasping. Your hands explored her body, caressing her breasts, sides, and buttocks, urging her to move faster. Natasha complied, her movements becoming more frantic, driven by a need that matched your own. "Fuck, Natasha," you moaned, your head falling back against the pillows. "I hate how good you are at t-this.."

"You're just as bad," Natasha growled, her nails digging into your shoulders. "You always think you can resist me."

"I don't want to resist you," you admitted, your hands gripping her hips tighter, guiding her movements. "But I hate that I can't."

"Then beg," Natasha demanded, her pace becoming brutal. "Beg for it."

"Forget it," you spat, your defiance shining through even as your body betrayed you. "Beg, or I stop," Natasha hissed, her eyes burning with intensity. She slowed her movements to a torturous pace, leaving you whimpering in frustration.

"Asshole! Please..Fuck!" you finally gave in, your pride taking a hit. "Louder.“ Natasha ordered, her hips moving with brutal precision. "I want to hear you beg."

"Please, Natasha!" you begged, your voice a desperate plea. "I need it." Natasha's smile was wicked. "Good," she whispered. "That's more like it."

Natasha began to move again, but slower, prolonging the pleasure. Natasha's hands roamed over your body, teasing and tormenting, bringing you to the brink over and over again, only to stop.

"Fuck you!!" You screamed. Natasha's smile was wicked. "Not yet," she whispered, her movements relentless. "I want to see you fall apart."

"You're such a sadist," you moaned, your voice a mix of frustration and desire. "And you love it," Natasha replied, her pace increasing. "Admit it."

"Fine, I l-love it..“you gritted out through clenched teeth. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Natasha purred, her hips moving with brutal precision, making you writhe beneath her. The pleasure was overwhelming, building to a crescendo that left you breathless and begging for release.

"Now," Natasha commanded, and your body obeyed, Your orgasm crashing over you with an intensity that left you trembling. Natasha followed soon after, her own climax prolonged by the sight of you breaking beneath her.

Natasha's thrusts grew erratic, her grip on your hips leaving bruises. She was chasing her own orgasm now, her movements rough and demanding. "I'm going to come.. in you, fuck!“ she growled, her breath hot in your ear. Your eyes widened, your breath hitching. "You can't—"

"Shut up," Natasha hissed, her voice sharp. "I know you're on the pill." Your heart raced, the realization hitting you like a blow. Natasha knew. She had known all along. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal. "Natasha..“ you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation and desire.

"Take it," Natasha growled, her movements becoming frantic as she neared her climax. "Take it all." With a final, brutal thrust, Natasha buried herself deep within you, her orgasm washing over her with a force that left you both breathless. You cried out, your second climax triggered by the sensation of Natasha coming inside you.

Natasha collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies trembling from the intensity of your release. She stayed there for a moment, savoring the afterglow, before slowly pulling away, a satisfied grin on her lips.

"Good girl," she murmured, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. "I knew you could beg." You glared at her, your chest rising and falling heavily. "I hate you." you muttered, your voice weak.

Natasha laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "The feeling's mutual," she whispered, her voice soft. "But you still begged for me."

You lay there for a moment, enjoying the afterglow. Natasha's head rested on your chest, her fingers drawing idle patterns on your skin. It was a rare moment of peace, a brief respite from the chaos of your lives.

But as the reality of your situation slowly returned, you sighed. "This is a bad idea," you murmured, your fingers gently stroking Natasha's hair.

“Probably,” Natasha agreed, her voice soft. “But right now, I don’t care.” You laughed quietly and pulled her closer. “Neither do I,” you admitted.

[mykoreanlove]

Acts of intimacy

Eyes shot open as you woke up from your slumber. It took you a minute to realize where you were. This was not your room, not your bed, not the scent of your home but everything fell into place as memories of last night clouded your vision.

Jackson and you ended up at his place, getting to know each other on a whole new level. Greedy kisses, lustful touches and heavy moans filled his walls for hours, until the two of you were too exhausted and had to take a break.

From the moment you met him you assumed he was a passionate lover but he outdid all the expectations you had of him. He did his hair style justice as he showed you his two prominent sides: the dark, dominating, hard one and the light, romantic, intimate one. Jackson was far from ordinary, but so were you.

And now he was laying behind you, still sound asleep. You felt his naked body on yours. Memories of you kissing every ab of his followed by sucking him off made you blush.

Suddenly, Jackson shifted and hugged you, pulling you closer to him. His big hands held you tightly, just like they did last night. You swore you could still feel his grip on your hips, the skin would definitely be bruised. He caught you by surprise as he murmured in his sleep. You couldn’t understand a word, you were too preoccupied with the deep tone of his voice anyway. You adored his voice, especially when he used it to demean you.

„You like being fucked like that? What a bad whore you are.“

Just thinking about it made you wet. Jackson must have sensed it as he slowly woke up, too. His voice was even raspier than before.

„Baby, are you up?“

You nodded.

Jackson felt you up and stopped at your tits, kneading them thoroughly. „I can’t believe what we did last night“, he chuckled amused. You felt his cock grow hard again, pressing into you. „Fuck, I want to go again but I’m so tired. Are you?“

His voice was soft and deep from exhaustion. You placed your hand on his and guided him down to your pussy, making him feel your wetness. Jackson sucked in his breath, less exhausted now.

„Baby, you’re insatiable“, he whispered into your ear as he played with your pussy. Circling, sliding, stretching - he was finger fucking you, making you melt within seconds. You grabbed his wrist for stability as you buckled your hips, loud moans escaped your pretty lips once more.

„Fuck, you’re so good for me. My sweet little whore.“

And with that you came all over him, again. Jackson smiled into your neck, leaving small kisses on your damp skin.

„I really like making you feel good like that, y/n. Can you make me feel good, too?“

You would have done anything for him. Quickly, you wanted to turn around but felt him blocking you moving.

„Stay that way. I want to slide into you from behind and… sleep within you. Is that ok?“

You giggled at the idea. „Your dick wants to sleep in my pussy. Is that it?“

Jackson nodded. „Please. Keep it warm in your pretty tight hole for me.“

You pressed your ass against his hips, signaling him to do it. Jackson let out a deep grunt as he pushed himself in you easily, your pussy was welcoming him dearly with your warmth and wetness. „God, you have no idea how good that feels“, he praised you once more.

For him, this wasn’t a kind of cockwarming, no to him this was an act of intimacy - something he craved dearly and finally found in you. You moved your hips, unsure if he had found the best position yet.

Jackson’s hands landed on your hips immediately, holding you in place firmly. „If you keep moving like that we won’t be sleeping anytime soon, Princess. Give me some time to refuel, okay? I promise I’ll make you scream my name before breakfast.“

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 7: Morning After

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Morning After (🌼✨)

Summary: You wake up after a One Night Stand with a guy whose name you can't remember, but perhaps the morning after isn't so bad when it's with Matt Murdock.

Warnings: Mentions of Smut (18+), fluff, One Night Stand

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: If I had a ONS with Matt Murdock, I would never leave tbh.

Read Me On AO3!

You weren’t exactly ecstatic when your friends decided it would be a good idea to ask you to dinner, and then ambush you with a night of bar-hopping. You are not a hateful person, but when it comes to a night of excessive drinking after you’ve already had a hard day at work, you loathe the company of other human beings just a little more than usual. Though you couldn’t say no to them. You tried, but the second you set foot out the door, you were caught in the spiderweb of their vision of fun. 

They dragged you from one bar to another, and you were this close to losing it when you landed in a place called Josie’s in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen—until the woman behind the counter placed a club soda in front of you and said, “Courtesy from that guy.” She nodded toward the other end of the bar where a dark-haired man sat, red glasses perched on his nose and his white dress shirt almost glistening in the neon light of the room. He was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. 

He carried a smirk on his face, tipping his imaginary hat at you, and it was then you decided that you would make the best out of that night. One thing led to another—one drink led to another—and you ended up going home with him.

Though now that you are slowly coming to your senses, tangled in silk sheets, your actions are starting to really hit you. You don’t even remember his name. 

He was this beautiful stranger at the bar, and you were pissed and tired and God, you were so horny. One sound from him in that gravelly voice and you were already clenching your thighs. Your brain didn’t even process his name because the things he could do to your body… names were the last thing on your mind.

He ate you out for hours, his head buried deep between your thighs as he lapped at your cunt. He spread your thighs on his big bed, and he feasted on you until his face was glistening with your essence. You came the hardest you ever had up until that point with any man. The way he listened to your body seemed almost superhuman to you.

And when he finally took off his pants, revealing that thick cock of his he had been hiding, you officially lost all of your senses. You remember how good it felt to have him inside of you, thrusting into you with abandon on your back, on your stomach, and your knees. He fucked you all over his bedroom and in the shower, and then in the bed some more until you were screaming loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

A pleasant ache of soreness spreads through your body as you stretch. You slept with a man whose name you can’t remember, but it was the best sex you’ve had in a very long time. 

He’s still asleep next to you, his lashes resting peacefully against his cheeks, his hair a mess, and his arms cradling the pillow in his arms after you moved away from him throughout the night—he looks so beautiful like this. 

“You’re staring,” he says.

A shiver runs down your spine at the sound of his voice. You wonder how he knew; you were being so subtle. 

“Sorry,” you whisper.

He opens his eyes. “Don’t be.”

Those hazel eyes… warmth floods your chest, and you can’t help it anymore; you reach out to brush your fingers against his cheek. 

He exhales shakily, as though your mere touch is hurting him. Because it’s gentle, loving, and not at all filled with pure and unbridled pleasure. 

“Were you trying to sneak out?” he asks softly. “Just now?”

Your fingers halt, blood rushing to your head. “I wasn’t…” you trail off. 

“It’s okay, you know, if you were.”

“I don’t know you,” you try again. “Last night was… it was amazing, but… I don’t know you.”

The corners of his mouth curl up into a smile. He lifts himself on his elbow first, then slowly sits up against the headboard. Your eyes roam over the scars on his chest again. You didn’t dare ask about them last night, and you’re not so sure you want to ask now. It’s none of your business, but oh, you can’t help that part of you wants it to be.

“I don't know you,” he says. 

You snicker. “Yeah, well… I guess that’s fair.”

“I do know your body.” His smile turns into a smirk. 

Why is it so hot all of a sudden? You hug the sheets tighter around your naked body, looking around the room and then back at him.

He slowly extends his hand—the very same hand that has been all over and inside you last night. “I’m Matthew.”

Matthew. That’s right. 

You hesitantly clasp your hand around his, uttering your name. You’re sure he is a lot better at remembering than you are, but it feels like the right thing to do. 

His thumb brushes back and forth over your skin. “Nice to meet you,” he says.

Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. He’s so fucking soft with you. “Yeah,” you smile back at him, hoping he can at least sense it somehow, “nice to meet you.”

And you start to wonder what it would be like to have dinner with him. Walk the streets of New York City with his arm around yours as you guide him along the sidewalk, describing the beauty of nature to him. The moonlight reflecting off the little pond in Central Park, and how the leaves look when they rustle in the wind. He can hear them, but you wish you could paint the world as a picture to him. You just want to spend time with him. 

Your hand is still in his when he tugs you closer, your lips mere inches away from him. “Let me get to know you,” his voice is barely above a whisper. He’s pleading, pleading to get to know you. Begging, even. How can you say no to him? 

You rest your forehead against his. “Okay,” you answer. “But only if you let me get to know you, too.”

Matt draws a cross with his index finger over his heart. “Promise,” he says. 

“Such a good Catholic.”

With that, you bridge the gap between you, and you finally kiss him again. The butterflies in your belly break out of their cage. He tastes like heaven, even though the things he does to you might land you in hell. He’s your sweetest temptation.

Air becomes a luxury you don’t need, tongues and teeth clashing as he devours you, mind, body, and soul. “Can I persuade you to stay for breakfast?” he breathes into your mouth.

You no longer want to leave. You want to stay. Forever. That might be crazy, you know, but sometimes you just… know. 

You kiss him again, humming, “Mark me down as persuaded.” 

And this time, you really do just know. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[hannsluvely]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five

chapter six | drunk. drool. darkness.

her pov;

I felt like an idiot. Like a fool.

When I came downstairs the following morning, with a pounding headache nearly blinding my vision, I spotted my mother collapsed on the couch rather than in her own bed. The kitchen was surprisingly clean, as well as the dining room table. She definitely didn't tidy up after that disaster of a night, so who did?

I walked past the stairs and into the kitchen, attempting to search for any kind of medicine to hopefully soothe the aching headache I had. I sorted through a kitchen cabinet before finding a small bottle of painkillers my mother was prescribed when her illness was first diagnosed. I placed two tablets in my mouth and dipped my head underneath the sink faucet, pouring a bit of water into my mouth to swallow the pills. Stepping back, I grabbed a pot from the stove, glaring at my sleeping mother.

I dropped it on the tiled floor.

In a split second, she shot up awake, groaning. "What the hell was that?!" She spat, grabbing her head while also covering her eyes.

"Good morning," I said as I forced a smile. I placed the pot back atop of the stove. "What happened last night?"

"Why the fuck should I know?" She cursed, laying back down.

"Where'd Buggy go?"

"Home?"

I frowned. I wasn't going to get any answers from her.

I ventured back upstairs into my bedroom where I could let my eyes settle in the cold and darkness. I closed the door behind me and approached my bed but before I climbed on it, I noticed a small green blur in the corner of my vision. Turning my head, I found the small turtle stuffed animal laying on the floor.

I treated my stuffed animals like they were living. To let them touch the floor rather than my own bed would be a sin.

Why was it on the floor?

Then it hit me.

Buggy threw it there.

I sat on my bed, holding the plushie close to my person. Last night, after dinner, I stormed up to my bedroom to be alone and to calm down due to the big fight my mother and I had. Then he came into my room to console me. Then-

"Oh my god."

I couldn't believe it. I practically threw myself onto him. Then he turned me down and after that, my mind drew a blank. I recalled vague bits here and there but the most clear occurrence was that of him leaving. Did I kick him out? Or did he leave willingly?

I touched my mouth with the stuffed animal. The feeling of his lips on mine was something I couldn't forget. For such a rough and rugged man, his lips and touch were so soft. I smiled to myself before falling onto the bed, my eyes drifting to a close.

Before I thought more about all of this, I needed to get rid of this headache.

-=-

I felt so stupid. Like a clown.

As I remembered more about the event, the more my self-esteem dropped. I never, in a thousand years, would have ever imagined myself getting drunk on red wine and then throwing myself onto a man with a red, clown nose. I frowned. His nose wasn't the issue. I liked him. I really did. He was kind and thoughtful for someone who used to be a bloodthirsty pirate. He went out of his way to please me which no one has ever done before.

And how do I thank him?

By making out with him and then kicking him out after he didn't reciprocate. I invite him over for dinner then throw him out.

This is why I hated alcohol.

It made stupid people do stupid things.

I was completely embarrassed with myself- so embarrassed, in fact, that I didn't reach out to Buggy for an entire month. How could I possibly be able to face himself after such an incident? Would I not mention it? Do I shake his hand and apologize and ask him to never bring it up again? Or do I kiss him again and see if my effort will mean something to him this time?

No, I'm an idiot. I ruined such a great friendship due to a few too many glasses of cheap red wine.

I blamed my mother for this entirely- and myself, of course. But if it weren't for her selfish and conniving personality, Buggy wouldn't have been invited for dinner. He and I would still be talking. I would see him everyday like I had been.

I vowed to my mother that as soon as I made enough money, I was moving out and cutting all ties with her. She simply laughed at me.

And so, for the past month, I kept my promise and sought out to look for jobs. Nothing dirty, of course.

I landed a waitress gig at a small run-down pub that hardly housed any customers other than drunken pirates and businessmen. I've only been here a few times before and it was the same pub I met Buggy at. Ever since that night, I haven't returned until today. The owner told me that the blue-haired piratehardly inhabited this bar which I was thankful for. I still needed to properly digest everything and when I was ready to confront him, I would. I just hoped it would be soon.

I was surprised to see that he didn't reach out either.

Maybe I scared him off.

As I cleaned off one of the tables, I tried to ignore the loud yells from behind me. Surprisingly, there was a huge flood of new patrons. My boss told me there was a soccer game and that's why everyone decided to eat and drink at the same place.

I didn't mind it too much. It meant more tips.

The rest of the night went by fast and just as we neared closing, I sat by myself in a corner booth, counting the change and money I made in just a few hours. One hundred and twenty berries. I smiled to myself, recounting to see if my math was correct.

Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-

The bell above the door jangled as someone walked inside. I kept my head low and proceeded to count before I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"We're not closed yet, Y/N. Go assist that customer, please." The man pointed at a booth. "Now."

I huffed and stood up, slipping the loose change into a pocket in my apron. I grabbed the notepad and a pen and started towards the booth.

With a closed-eye smile, I greeted the patron. "Hello, what can I get for you tonight?

"Y/N?"

I opened my eyes and there he sat. "Buggy," I whispered.

I nearly cringed.

His long blue hair was tied in a loose ponytail with the same striped bandanna wrapped around his scalp. His makeup was streaking down his sweaty face. The buttons of his striped vest were misaligned with the wrong slots. His blue-painted fingernails were chipped. And the worst of it, he wrank of liquor.

He was swaying in his seat, his arms resting across the table.

"H-Haven't-" hiccup! "-seen you in a while," He smirked. "You miss me?" His words slurred and his green eyes were nearly swollen shut. I frowned at this and took a seat beside him, nudging him to the other side of the booth. He giggled and his arm lifted before slinging over my shoulder.

"What's going on?" I whispered, hoping my boss wouldn't see me.

"What? Nothing!" He murmured.

"You're shitfaced. Why?"

"I dunno'. Got bored..." Buggy hummed and smiled up at me. His fingers began to mess with my hair. "Yer' working now?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Well, I wouldn't know! I haven't seen you in years..." He pouted.

"It's been a month."

"Whatever. Get me a beer, will ya?"

I laughed. "No! You're already too far gone. I'll get you a water." I pulled myself away from him and stood up, making my way behind the counter. Pouring him a glass of water, I watched as he proceeded to hiccup, playing into the drunkard stereotype all too well. Why was he like this? I've never seen this before. Why did he drink so much? As I approached him, he reached for me. I whacked his hand away and slid the cup toward him. This time, I sat across from him.

He glared at the drink before chugging it all, some water dripping down his stubbled chin. I crossed my arms and examined him. He was a complete and utter mess. It almost disgusted me to see him in this light. Someone I respected so much was now stooping to the same level as my mother.

"Buggs, what's happening here?"

"What?" He tilted his head. "Yer' supposed to be my waitress. You haven't taken my order yet," The pirate grumbled, reaching to grab at the paper menu. He squinted his eyes as he read it. "Get me a sandwich. With... uhm, oh! Meat, cheese, and lettuce." He met my gaze and smiled widely, exposing every single tooth.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," I demanded, pointing down at the table. "Is this some ploy to get back at me?"

"W-What? Back at you?" He snickered. "Yer' cute, kiddo."

"Don't call me that."

"Cute or kiddo?"

"Both."

"What would you rather me say?" He smirked and leaned forward, gesturing his hand for me to get closer. I did, also leaning in. "Your- hehe, your tits look amazing in that top?"

I gasped and pushed him back. "Fuck you!"

"What?! Which would you rather me call you?" He pursed his red-stained lips together.

"By my fucking name, you idiot."

"Okay! Y/N," He started, letting out a soft burp. "Where's my sandwich?"

"You'll get it once you start talking."

"I've been talking! I can't win with you." His eyes rolled. "Women."

I hit him atop of the head this time and he yelped, immediately shrinking down as his arms hovered over his head.

"You're the one who kicked me out! Why are you still acting so mad... I'd think you'd be happy to see me again, but- but, I was wrong..."

"I am happy to see you but-"

"You are? Really?" The look on the clown's face broke my heart. He was so surprised, so shocked to find out that I missed his company. “I-I’m glad.” His head dropped for a moment and he looked down at his lap. “I’ve been, uh, g-going through a lot.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.” He let out a loud hiccup then clutched his throat. “That one hurt.”

“Why can’t you tell me?”

His broad shoulders shrugged back. “Maybe I will. I just need something- uh, something to eat.”

Getting something in his stomach might help him sober up fast but my mom always told me that the only way to sober up was through time. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

I got up from the table and began to walk toward the kitchen but a floating hand grabbed at my wrist. It gave my arm a tight tug before I looked back at Buggy. I raised an eyebrow but he just gave me a toothy grin then let go. Venturing into the kitchen, I let the chef know that it was the last meal of the night. He was reluctant because it meant he needed to put out his cigarette but he gave me a firm nod and told me to wait a couple of minutes. I agreed with him then went to peek on the blue-haired clown. He rested his head on his hands, his eyes closed. His long eyelashes casted a dim shadow over his eyelids. His lips parted, a small drop of drool running down his chin. Was he asleep?

Before I could admire him any further, the chef tapped on my shoulder and handed me the tray of food. A sandwich sat upon the plate with potato salad to the right of it. I thanked him and brought the meal to Buggy. I set it in front of him then took a seat.

“Buggy?” I nudged his shoulder. “Your food is here.”

“I’m not hungry.”

What? “What? You just said you were.”

“I lied. I want to go home.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“Because the other bar kicked me out ‘cause I had too much to drink,” He mumbled into his arm. “I wanted to drink more but then I- I saw you. So I wanted to stop.”

“You stopped drinking because of me?”

“I was drinking because of you.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together. What was he babbling about now? Before I could protest, he reached forward, grabbing half of the sandwich with a severed hand. He raised his head and took a bite. He chewed for a few seconds then swallowed. He ate the half then slid me the plate. So much for not being hungry.

I smiled to myself and started to eat, taking the last sip of the glass of water I had brought to him. I finished eating then wiped my mouth with a napkin.

Taking a few bills out of my pocket, I placed it on the table to cover the meal.

But then it hit me.

I could pay him back.

“Buggy, I have great news,” I exclaimed with a wide grin and pulled the loose change out of the apron pocket, the various coins rocking against the table before falling flat. The pirate sat up, a yawn escaping his mouth.

“What?”

“I can pay you back now! I have more than enough!”

“I don’t want you to,” He whispered, sliding it toward me. “I have more than enough. You’re the one who needs it, not me.”

“But you said I could pay you back. That was our deal.”

“Y/N-“

“Take the money, Buggy. Please.”

His green eyes met mine for a split second before he reluctantly gave in. He swiped the money toward him and folded the bills before hiding them away in his pocket. I smiled at him, taking the change he didn’t want to keep.

I looked at him, staying quiet. Was he already sobering up? He was talking normally now; he was hardly slurring his speech. “Can I walk you home?”

He cocked a grin. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Please?”

“Yeah, sure. Alright.”

I clocked out of work and helped Buggy out of his seat. On the walk back to his abode, Buggy leaned against me. My arm wrapped around his shoulders as I guided him down the street. He stumbled with each step and if it weren't for me, I was sure he would've fallen. The man relied on me heavily.

The front door opened with a loud bang. A wave of cold air brushed over me and I shivered. The pirate buried his face into my neck. A red blush washed over my face before I helped him onto his bed. He giggled to himself and extended his foot. I raised an eyebrow.

"Take my shoes off, please." He whispered, his body falling back to lay flat on the bed with his leg still straight out.

I knelt down and slipped each of his boots off. I set them to the left of the nightstand. Standing up, I closed the front door and dropped my backpack beside it. I approached the man and took a seat upon the edge of the bed, turning to look down at him. His eyes were closed. "Buggy, I'm gonna get going now. We can talk tomorrow, okay? When you're sober," I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. “Do you need anything before I go?” I was met with silence. I let out a small huff, my hand resting on his leg. I caressed it. I then pulled my hand away but before I could stand up, his hand took my wrist and he gripped it, tightly. I looked back at him. He was now sitting upward.

"Please, no. Please stay the night," He begged, lunging forward. His head fell into my lap and his arms wrapped around my waist. "Don't leave again. Please."

I froze. My eyes grew wide, my arms levitating above the man.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I nodded my head even though he couldn't see me. "Okay, okay." I dropped my hands to rest on his back, tenderly stroking the fabric of his vest. He let out a satisfied hum and remained completely silent. While it wasn't the most comfortable position, I stayed still because it was cozy for him.

I've never seen him in this mood before. I thought alcohol would make him an angry man, maybe rather devious or feisty, but no. It made him sad. It made him vulnerable. Alcohol took his rough exterior and melted it away, revealing a soft side I've never seen before.

His face nuzzled into my thigh.

I listened to his light breathing and brought my hands up to run through his thick blue hair. I was surprised his hair was so long. It was nice, though. It was silky smooth as well.

"Y/N," Buggy whispered into my leg.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for disappointing you."

A frown stayed on my face. I felt my eyes and nose sting. "What?"

"I've done nothing but trouble you. I'm sorry. I didn't realize I would be this much of a burden in your life. I thought I could help but-"

"What are you going on about?"

His head raised and revealed a soaking wet face. A stream of tears ran down his face, his makeup smearing even more than before. I gasped. He sniffled and grimaced. "I look so stupid, don't I?"

"You don't, Buggers. I'm just trying to figure out why you're crying," I whispered, raising my head to cup his cheek. He leaned into my palm and gave me a small, sincere smile. This was hurting my heart.

"We haven't spoken in a month."

"I know, I know. It's my fault, I-"

"Did you just not want to see me anymore?"

I instantly shook my head. "No, no, no. That's not it at all." I wiped a few tears away with my thumb.

"I thought I fucked up so badly," He started, taking a deep breath. "When you came onto me like that, I felt time stop. Literally nothing else mattered to me in that moment other than you. I didn't even fucking care if my heart stopped beating. If being with you was my last moment alive, I'd die a happy man." I sucked in my lower lip, my eyes burning more. "But it felt wrong. You were drunk, p-probably for the first time in your life. I didn't want to take advantage of that. You weren't thinking straight at all. I-I didn't want you to-to regret it the next morning."

"Buggy-"

"You have no idea- no fucking idea how badly I've wanted that. Since the very moment I've laid my eyes on you, I realized there was nothing more I could ever want. You're perfect. A literal angel." I wanted to tell him he was wrong but he continued to speak, making my heart both ache and jump. "My life was so dark before you. I was blinded by greed and-and hatred. I was a cruel man. But seeing you smile, I forget what for, but your smile erupted something in me. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about anything else in life other than you. I did some fucked up shit and I feel like you have a right to know." He swallowed then turned his head, facing away from me.

"What do you mean?" Those words scared me.

"Look in the nightstand. There's a book, I think it's the second one. Open it and see for yourself." He sat up and pulled away from me, wiping his nose and eyes. "No more lies or secrets. I want to be completely open and honest with you about everything. If our friendship continues, then I want honesty. You deserve that."

"You're scaring me, Buggy," I murmured and leaned forward, reaching for the drawer. I yanked it open and sorted through the stack of novels. I grabbed the second one and set it in my lap. "Can I just say-"

"No, please look. I need your opinion on me after you see this."

I was horrified.

What was so revolting in this book that he felt the need to hide?

I looked at him, frowning, before dropping my head. I admired the cover of the novel before peeling it open. My eyes widened.

"Read it out loud," The man instructed as he toyed with his bottom lip. He stared at me, not even seeming to blink.

My thumb dragged over the paper to smooth out the crumpled words. “She has the kindest smile. Her generosity is beyond that of anyone I know. She makes me believe in the good of humanity again." I repeated as I read the sentences scattered on the small note of paper. I smiled to myself. "Did you write-"

"Read the next one."

"I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat." I felt my lower lip quiver as salty tears began to cloud my vision. I used my free hand to rub my eyes before I continued. "A-And she caused me to see the world in color. Everything was so bland and dry but the second I saw her, I could see the blue in the sky and the pink petals of cherry blossoms. I could see the light at the end of a tunnel. If I was drowning, I know she would be able to rescue me just from her words of encouragement."

"Do you get it now?" He asked, placing his hand on my knee.

"You like me?" I asked, hesitant.

"What? Really?" He said with a weak laugh. "Of course I do. But I've known you for so long, Y/N. Much longer than you knowing me. I've followed you before, s-stalked you."

I gasped. Oh. I didn't get that from the writings. "You did?"

"Yeah, I did. I've been scheming for months. Trying to figure out how to talk to you o-or get you to say hello to me. Then at the bar-"

"I said hello to you. Were you there because of me?"

"Yeah, it wasn't mere coincidence."

"Woah," I said in awe, my facial expression or tone of voice hiding how I was truly feeling. "That's- wow."

"If you want to leave, I understand. It's a lot, I know. But I promise I've never properly stalk- well, I-I don't know. I just saw you and I knew I needed to know you. I needed you in my life."

"When did you first see me?"

"A fish market. You were giving a kitten some of the scraps."

"I don't even remember that," I admitted with a light chuckle.

"I'm not a creeper pervert or anything, I swear. I've-"

"Buggy, stop panicking. I'm flattered, if anything. I don't hate you. I don't think differently of you either."

He leaned into me, his red nose touching the tip of my own. He wore a wide smile on his face. "Really?" I nodded my head and rested my hand atop of his.

"It's a lot to take in but I'm not creeped out. I just- I had no idea."

"There's a reason I still have a bounty,” He remarked.

I laughed softly. "Very true."

"Do you understand why I was so worried? I thought all of that progress was wasted. I did want to, I really did. God, I wanted to, but-" The man continued to ramble on before I pressed my palm to his red-painted mouth. He wiggled his eyebrows.

"I'm glad you didn't stay. Genuinely, I would have regretted it. Not because of you, but because I would want to remember a moment like that. I never want to drink again so I can be fully aware of everything we do together," I said as I removed my hand. "I didn't contact you because I was embarrassed with myself. I felt like an idiot. I thought I completely ruined everything. I also wanted to properly deal with my emotions. I wanted to figure out what I felt."

"And what do you feel?"

"The same as you do, though maybe not as extreme."

The pirate cracked a cheeky grin and nudged me.

"But I don't want to rush anything, please. If we do decide to do anything," I cleared my throat. "I want to take things slow. I moved too fast that night and look what happened."

"No, no, yeah. I feel the same way. No rush."

"Do we have a deal?" I extended my hand.

"A deal for what?"

"To do this but take things slow."

"To do what?"

"Buggy, you know what I mean."

"I want to hear you say it."

I huffed and pulled my hand back before he quickly grabbed it and gave it a firm shake. "We can go further with our relationship. How is that?" I smiled.

"Hmm, what do you mean? I'm a little slow, you'll need to spell it-" I kissed him for a split second then pulled back. The expression on his face was priceless. "That's pretty self-explanatory,” He hummed, grinning.

"Good."

"Can I do it again, though?" His hand reached to cup my chin.

"Once," I whispered.

Buggy closed the gap, tilting his head to be able to kiss me properly. It was short but sweet. When he pulled away, he fell against me, his forehead resting on my shoulder. My arms enwrapped his figure and I pulled him close. "Are you tired?" I asked, playing with his ponytail.

"Mhm," He responded, a soft yawn parting from his lips. "You're still staying the night, right?"

"Yeah, I am."

The blue-haired man pulled away from me and swept his legs over the side of the bed "I'll sleep on the floor, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

I grabbed his arm. "Nonsense, it's okay. I get the left side, though."

Buggy grinned, nodding his head. "Yes, ma'am."

I peeled my shoes off, setting them next to his as he began to unfold the sheets. He pulled the blankets back and climbed underneath them. I crawled beside, pushing my legs under the thin blankets. Turning to face Buggy, I tucked my arm under the pillow.

"I'm sorry for being like this, by the way. For being drunk."

"It's okay, just try to stop. If it's okay."

"It is," He whispered while stretching his arm out, slyly letting it sling over my waist. I smirked.

"You were kind of funny, though."

"How so?"

"Slurring your words, repeating yourself, tripping everywhere."

"What can I say? They don't call me a clown for nothing."

"I think the nose and makeup gave you that reputation."

"Nose?" He cocked an eyebrow upward.

"D-Did I say nose? I meant, uh, your hair!"

"Mhm, sure." Buggy tugged me toward him, my face coming into contact with his chest. He let out a groan as he made himself comfortable. "I hope this isn't moving too fast. I'm cold."

"No, this is perfect," I replied with a sheepish smile.

My eyes closed and I shrugged my shoulders back while exhaling a sigh. I was cold but the warmth of his body soothed my goosebumps. I rested my forehead against his abdomen and felt myself beginning to drift off. His chin plopped upon my head and his hand combed through my hair.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" He whispered, his voice raspy as exhaustion took over.

"We'll figure that out when tomorrow arrives. For now, I need sleep."

"Do you work tomorrow?"

I shook my head, whispering a simple 'no'.

"Sorry, I'll let you sleep."

I smirked to myself and tucked myself closer into him.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N," He mumbled as he kissed atop my head.

With those words and the sound of his heartbeat and breathing, I found myself falling asleep. I ignored the stench of alcohol coming from his person and focused on everything else I enjoyed about him.

In one last resort to get comfortable, I turned over, pressing my back against his front. My legs entangled with his and his arm slipped underneath my own. He held my hand.

The last thing I remember was him placing a kiss on the back of my head and then I fell unconscious.

[messyyythoughts]

princess from afar.

gladiator 2 marcus acacius x female!princess reader.

author’s note: this idea came to me like a holy vision after watching like 100 gladiator 2 trailer edits of Pedro Pascal. god save us all when that movie is finally out. it will be feral girl hours!!! also MAYBE SPOILERS??? idk be careful x

small disclaimer: so... I haven’t had the pleasure of watching the first Gladiator movie, my apologies beforehand if anything is inaccurate lore-wise! I tried to go off what I knew of Ancient Rome and take inspiration from the movie and the sequel coming out later this year. I hope you all enjoy!

summary: you are a princess from far away visiting Rome under its new Emperors. the Roman General catches your eye, and you catch his.

warnings: gladiator-like violence.

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Your visit to Rome under its new twin Emperors has been eventful. 

Your father and brothers were too occupied in your homelands to go themselves, leaving you as the sole candidate. Your father assured you plenty of times prior to departure that you were a perfect choice. Well-versed in languages and histories, practised in the arts and skills of diplomacy. You already had everything you needed to make it a successful visit, and establish a favourable relationship with Rome. Initially you had been nervous, understandably, your country’s standing with the most powerful empire on the planet came down to this visit, it weighed on your shoulders. But, upon arrival, the entire court of Rome, its government and its Emperors were inexplicably fascinated with you. Whether it was your beauty, which they had never witnessed before, or your personality or talents you could not say. Upon realising the hold you had over your hosts, you played everything to your advantage.

Dinner parties, festivals, meetings, trips into the city, you did it all with a smile and impeccable appearance. You had been accompanied by some of your loyal ladies, of course, who worked their magic each and every morning to ensure a flawless appearance greeted the court of Rome. You were mastering the art of diplomacy and playing your part, it was perfect. Then came the Colosseum. You were personally invited by one of the twin Emperors, Geta, to sit by his side and watch battles of all manner take place. Intrigued, as you did not have such a thing back home, you agreed. At first, you were shocked by the barbarity of it all, but upon seeing the joy it brought the crowds of spectators and the purpose it gave the fighters… you understood that it was another moving part of Rome and her empire. So, you applauded and followed the Emperor’s lead, which he loved. He was constantly seeking your company and favour, you felt yourself walking a dangerous line of a marriage proposal should you entice him too much. Such a thing would delight your father, but you weren’t so keen on your safety if you ever married the Emperor. There was just something about these types of men that made you keep your guard up.

After a few of these battles in the Colosseum, you grew to understand the addictiveness of watching and betting and waiting to see who came out on top. Some days wild beasts were released, other days it was man against fellow man. You saw enough blood and grime and hurt to last you a lifetime, but smiled through all of it when the Emperor glanced at you, grinning wildly. You had grown used to the intricacies of the glorious gladiator battles, and attended even when Geta had not personally sought you out to extend the invitation, as he now simply expected your presence at his side. It was on one of the Colosseum days that your visit would become even more intriguing.

You arrived that day fresh-faced, hair immaturely arranged, dress clean and jewellery gleaming in the sun. You had bathed in rose petals the night before and the smell danced around you as you greeted the Emperor and took your seat next to him. He kissed your hand, making eye contact with you before turning his attention to the Colosseum. The crowds were filling their seats, rows and rows of them all packed in trying to get a favourable view of the promised entrainment. A set of heavy footsteps behind made you turn your head, and you saw a man in white and gold, a sword at his hip, enter the Emperor’s box. You stood, a feeling deep down telling you that this man was important, as he approached. You had not noticed the spare seat next to the Emperor today, you should’ve known someone else was coming. The wide-shouldered, bronze-skinned man could’ve easily been mistaken for one of Rome’s Gods, you thought, watching him greet the Emperor. Then, the Emperor gestured to you.

“The beautiful Princess from afar, General Acacius. Isn’t she a sight to behold?” The Emperor’s eyes roved up and down your dress, and you feigned embarrassment. The General took your hand and kissed it, bowing respectfully as he did.

“Princess, forgive me. I was not informed of royalty accompanying the Emperor today. Do you mind if I join you both today for the entertainment?” You smiled prettily, eyes on his.

“Please, General, I am but a guest, you are Rome’s commander. Be welcome.” He nodded, taking his seat on the other side of Emperor Geta after you had sat yourself. Your hand was tingling with excitement from where he’d held and kissed it. For such a large, muscled man, he had a gentle touch. And he was so well dressed, rivalling yourself in his white and gold. He had golden leaves woven into his hair, brunette but speckled with grey. His beard was neat, trimmed. Your eyes lingered on his nose, a masterpiece carved by the Roman Gods themselves, surely. Your breath caught in your chest and you remembered yourself, fixing your attention on the Colosseum before you.

Though you tried to not give the handsome General too much attention, you felt his eyes lingering on you all the same.

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The fights were over, the crowds appeased, the sand of the Colosseum soaked with patches of blood and a few bodies. Geta had grown bored of the day and declared a feast to be held in the evening, all should attend. He swept away, guards following, and left you in the box bowing at his exit. The General’s warm eyes met yours when Geta was gone and he half-smiled.

“I suppose you shall be in attendance tonight, Princess from afar?” He asked, one hand on his sword, the other resting atop it.

“Of course, General. Will I see you there? You must be a busy man.” You replied, walking out of the box, holding your skirts up to take the steps.

“I will make my best efforts to attend, your Grace.” He bowed as you left, watching you go. He couldn’t fathom your existence, such beauty all in one person, such grace and softness. How could any man send you this far away on your lonesome? He gripped his sword hilt before relaxing and following you up the steps.

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You took to napping that late afternoon, then gossiped away with your ladies. They had just finished embroidering a gown that your father had sent along as a gift, and insisted that you wear it to please the Emperor tonight. They knew all of the goings on within the Emperor's palace, and for that you were thankful. They took out your hair, and agreed that a looser style would suit the intimacy of the evening feast. Precious gemstones were pinned into your hair, a reminder of your status as a Princess. The gown was arranged and fastened, you wore light slippers on your feet. Once the ladies had decided on appropriate jewellery and makeup, they finished by spritzing you with fresh rose water and then escorted you to the feast themselves. They, sadly, would not be joining you but would instead be waiting for you upon your return. You thanked them for their efforts, and they waved you into the dining hall, where the court was drinking and conversing in the candlelight as the feast was brought out.

Emperor Geta spotted you immediately. You obliged him and joined him in conversation with many different nobles and members of the court, though your Italian was good, sometimes you found some words did not quite translate in your head. You nodded instead and glanced at Geta with a radiant smile and a polite laugh if appropriate. You excused yourself for food and a wine refresh, glad for a moment alone where your brain could rest from translating entire sentences. Your smile dropped for just a moment and you wandered out to a balcony for real fresh air. Elbows leaning on the immaculate stone, you sipped your wine, staring out at the night sky and wondering if your family were awake or asleep back home. Were they thinking of you? You were thinking of them, always. When would it be time to go home? You put your goblet down and sighed, realising that you had put off these homesick thoughts by throwing yourself into life here in Rome.

“Princess,” You straightened up at the sound of someone’s voice approaching from the dining hall, then smiled in slight embarrassment when you saw the General carefully making his way out onto the balcony. “Peace and quiet at last.” He smiled, taking a place next to you on the balcony. He held no wine and carried no sword this time. He had changed into less golden attire, but it still made him look like a God disguised as a human.

“General Acacius, a pleasure to see you tonight.” You curtseyed and he bowed deeply, then took your hand and kissed the back lightly. His brown eyes caught you watching him with wonder on your face. “You are well versed in the ways of nobility and court, I am pleasantly surprised.” You said, trying to fill the air between you both. There was something about how he watched you so calmly, coolly, it set your insides alight.

“When you find yourself surrounded by certain types, you adapt.” He replied, leaning on the balcony with one arm, facing you.

“Not so different from a battlefield, I suppose?” You sipped your wine, eyes meeting his. He shook his head.

“Life is a battlefield, Princess, for everyone. Do you not find all of this a constant battle?” He glanced at the rowdy dining hall. You turned and made sure Geta wasn’t staring daggers at you, but he was nowhere to be seen. The crowd had grown somehow, and the feast was almost gone. You considered it all for a moment, before answering.

“I do see how one could view it as a battlefield, but I would not see myself as a warrior.” The General’s eyes widened, he grinned.

“I see you as a warrior, Princess, a valuable warrior. Do not diminish yourself, you may not be wielding a sword above your head, but your mind is just as sharp. I have heard stories of your visit so far, they love you. I fear you will never leave.” Though he meant it as humour, the thought of never leaving made you feel sick.

“Do you think I will ever go home?” You asked, suddenly desperate to hear someone say it. He searched your face, standing tall.

“Of course. You have a family awaiting your return, do you not?” The General’s hands folded before him. You nodded. “Who awaits you in your faraway land, Princess?” He asked, softly. You smiled at the stars.

“My father and brothers, General. You would enjoy them, if they ever visit.” The General stepped closer, admiring your little smile as you spoke of your family. His big hands took your wine from you and set it down. “He won’t keep me here will he?” You asked in a whisper, almost too scared to say it aloud. General Acacius studied your features for a heartbeat, then another. He could see the sadness hidden deep in your eyes, something many had never noticed in your time here. He saw the falter of your smile at the corner of your lips, even if for a moment. He had only met you hours before, but he found himself growing fond of you, the idea of you staying, but he knew it would only deepen your sadness.

“No, he is obsessive at times, but he will let you go. Your father would cross the seas for you, would he not, if you did not return?” You nodded and a little tear escaped your tired eyes. You wiped at it quickly, taking your wine from the General with a smile. You finished it and sighed.

“I think I shall retire for the evening, we are due back in the Colosseum tomorrow, are we not?” He stepped back, giving you space, and bowed. You curtseyed back, and he watched you reenter the dining hall. You slipped through the high energy crowd, making small apologies and nodding politely when they noticed you. Acacius wished he had told you to call him Marcus, he would tell you tomorrow, at the Colosseum.

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You took the long way back to your rooms, meandering around corners and admiring the architecture. You had so much to tell your father and brothers when you got back, you were hoping you remembered it all. Maybe writing it down somewhere would help empty your mind of all these thoughts of home? You saw your room at last, and slipped off your satin sippers. Picking them up, you heard a scuffle down the hallway. It was all darkness beyond your door, shadows seemed to move up there… No, it was the wine talking. You slowly stood, shoes in hand, hand to your head. Maybe forgoing wine in the future would be wise. You lay one hand on the door to open it, but felt the floor go out from under you, your weight was flung over and you were resting on someone’s shoulder. They started to run away from your door, so you screamed. You dropped your slippers as your kidnapper turned a corner, you heard your door open and your ladies' voices.

“Help me!” You called out again, before pairs of light, fast footsteps began following your screams. You struggled to free yourself from the grip of the person carrying you, they were turning corners and taking passageways you had never seen before. You kept screaming, but your ladies couldn’t catch up. They lost you, calling out your name and crying. You were thrown from the shoulder of your kidnapper to the floor, it was dark and dim down here in the bowels of the Emperor’s palace, the night air was cool. You felt your elbows gaze against tiles. Your kidnapper bent down, forcing a rag over your face, you struggled, nails digging into their wrist but with one inhale you lost all control of yourself and went dark.

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Sunlight streaming in on your face woke you up. It was bright, hot, you felt dry and sick. Pushing yourself up, you saw that you were chained in a cell, and could hear crowds roaring outside. Your head rolled, but finally steadied itself against the stone wall behind you. Your eyes were adjusting to daylight, you felt awful. You had just begun to recall the events of the night before when the sound of your cell unlocking and the appearance of a gladiator caught your attention.

“Good afternoon Princess. Ready for your grand entrance?” He smirked, hauling you up by your shoulder and forcing you to walk out of the cell. He steered you through small passageways, dimly lit except for stray rays of sunlight, you passed other cells with men chained up in corners. Your heart dropped, you were underneath the Colosseum. Was this the Emperor’s doing? Had he ordered you kidnapped for leaving the feast early without his permission? Had the General feigned friendliness only to arrange your kidnapping last night? You came to a room where all light was blocked by a gate, weapons were carelessly discarded, armour too. “Drink this, we can’t have you giving a bad performance for your Emperor.” Water was tipped down your throat, it spilt over your lips and down your neck, onto your dress.

“Did he order this?” You demanded, finding your voice. The gladiator’s eyes were dark, evil. He looked you up and down before speaking.

“No, it’s our little surprise to him, so put on a good show for us, Princess.” He approached the gate and banged with his fist three times, you heard the sound of hinges creaking, and sunlight filled the room. The gladiator hauled you up the slope and out into the very Colosseum you had been presiding over yesterday. The crowds were cheering wildly, unaware of who had just entered their arena. The gate slammed shut behind you, and you turned around, banging on it with chained fists.

“I have no quarrel with yourselves, or the Emperor, let me out of here at once!” You shouted, back to the gate. No voice came from the other side, your heart sank again. Hands chained and head on a swivel, you ran out to the centre of the Colosseum, hoping, praying that the Emperor would recognise you and order you saved.

You saw Geta stand, leaning over the Emperor’s box, then he started shouting. Movement in his box gave you a glimmer of hope that someone was coming to get you out of here alive. But then, the gates behind you opened again, and a stream of armoured men ran out, banging their armour and showing off their weapons. The crowd went berserk. You fell to your knees, realising your fate, and kept your eyes trained on the Emperor’s box. You thought of your father’s face when he was told the news by a prim and powdered envoy from Rome that his daughter had been slaughtered in the Colosseum. You prayed for good lives for your brothers, that they raise strong families that look after your homeland. The tears had started and you couldn’t stop them. You were hauled from your knees, your dress ripping and forced to stand.

“The Princess from afar will die for your entertainment today!” One of the gladiators yelled, displaying you to the crowds. Their cheers died down, and a ripple of confusion passed through them. You were released, and encircled by a half a dozen armoured gladiators with bloodthirsty expressions on their grimy, unshaven faces.

“You gain nothing from my murder, gladiator.” You spat, the anger beginning to take over. They laughed and brandished weapons of all manner. Swords, nets, daggers, tridents. “How can any of you stand there and murder a defenceless, chained woman, in full armour with sharp weapons in your hands? Have you no honour, no bravery? You fear a woman so greatly she must be killed in chains and unarmed? Cowards, all of you, a disgrace to your brothers!” You yelled, hoping that the words would buy you time. A few of the gladiators seemed uneasy as you spoke. Then, one strode forward, grabbed your chains and used his sword to shatter the link. Still cuffed, but now free to move your hands, he backed away, eyes on yours. “There is one brave enough to approach amongst you, at least.” You shook your hands and let the chains fall to your bare feet, burning in the sand.

A beat of hesitation from the others passed, before one gave in and ran at you, roaring. He held a long sword above his head, clad in armour, taller and broader than you. All you could see was one of your brothers charging at you with their wood practice swords as children, pretending to spear you rather than save you. You stood there, ready to greet death without the satisfaction of screaming or wailing, but at the very last moment you threw yourself aside and he missed. The crowd went up in a frenzy. His sword struck the sand and he looked over his shoulder at you, eyes tearing into yours.

Maybe you had decided not to die here.

He ran again, and you did the same, but you knew these gladiators were wise in strategy and learned their opponents' ways fast. He started swinging his sword at you, giving you little time to move out of the way, he caught your upper arms or dress where you were too slow, drawing thin lines of blood across your skin. Seeing the red made him hungry for more, and he did not relent in his attacks. You used the metal cuffs on your wrists to stop his sword taking your head off of your neck, and he grunted in anger, stepping back. The crowd were in uproar. He twirled his sword in his hand, idly, thinking as he surveyed you. You spotted a shorter sword sheathed on his hip, it would be madness to try and take it, he’d surely kill you at that distance, but you needed a weapon. You stood no chance of making it out alive or surviving until rescue if you had no weapon, you could only dodge and weave for so long, the other gladiators would be fiercer, more brutal, they were building up their stamina minute by minute.

The long sword narrowly grazed your side, you cried out and pressed a hand to your dress. It was torn open, bloodied already. Your hand came away red, your eyes widened. The gladiator’s shoulders were rolling, he wanted to land another hit. You had an idea, a wild one, but it would get you close to the short sword. You had to do it just right, you moved slower, hand pressed to your injured side. He swung again, missing, a second time, missing again. The third time you let him catch you again, and you went to your knees, crying out. The crowd booed, outraged. He grinned, ecstatic at the thought he was the first to face you and have you down on your knees injured, he approached, sword wet with your blood. His hand grabbed your chin, lifting it up to face him, you started up the tears again. “Just make it quick, you brute.” You hissed, panting. He grinned like a devil, lifting up his long sword, but as he went to swing down, you had his short sword unsheathed and drove it upwards to a gap where his chest armour didn’t cover his abdomen.

A wet sound, he stumbled, dropped the sword, took bumbling steps backwards. His face was a picture of shock, he fell dramatically onto his back, blood rushing from his new wound. You picked up the long sword, its weight foreign in your hand, and backed away from the body. The other gladiators all looked at one another in silence. The crowd, however, were anything but. You stood, eyeing up the five remaining gladiators. They watched their brother die and squirm, before looking back to you. Though they did seem reluctant to be the next to face you, they all closed in, weapons gleaming in the sunlight. Then the gate behind you opened, the one under the Emperor’s box. They all paused, and you half-turned to watch.

General Acacius came striding out, armoured up, sword in hand, the expression on his face was one carved from marble by the Roman Gods of war and death. His anger rolled across the Colosseum, his muscles strained as he stalked towards you and the five gladiators. He said nothing as he reached you, he did not spare you a glance, he made a straight-cut line for the remaining gladiators.

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Despite the fact you were openly bleeding from several cuts, your dress was a mess and you were devoid of your sunny smile, General Acacius was focused solely on the gladiators. You watched as the once reluctant men now fired themselves up with the promise of a real fight. But before you could run to the open gates, they encircled you and the General together, forcing you to back away from your escape route. The General surveyed the gladiators with a disgusted expression, and then it all happened at once.

All five gladiators charged, two at you, three at the General. While you had no doubts about the General’s capability to survive, you seriously doubted yours. You had no time to get any words out before one of the two was upon you, bringing a trident down, you raised your long sword with two hands and barely held him off, nearly going down to one knee with the effort. He backed away, the sharp prongs of the trident begging to be buried into flesh. Mouth dry, you watched the two gladiators exchange a look before the one wielding a long sword charged, you met him, not blow for blow but enough to keep him off of you. The General had already downed one of his gladiators and was onto the second and third. The crowd were cheering, chanting, stampeding in their seats. The trident flew past your head, landing in the General’s field of battle. Without hesitation, he picked it up, threw it back and met his attacker swiftly with his sword, never missing a beat. The trident had pinned the gladiator who owned it down, lodged in his arm, he struggled against the prongs. You felt sick.

The long sword came down at you again, you threw yourself out of the way, too tired to meet it with your own sword again. Your arms bled and ached from the weight of this weapon, you did not possess the same muscles as these men. You were not trained in the art of war, fighting other humans, or wielding weapons. Your brothers had tried to train you as children but your father had quickly intervened and warned them that you had no use for such things, as they would always be there to protect you. You wished dearly now that you had continued attending your brothers’ training sessions against your father’s orders. The sword narrowly missed your chest, you were shaking with the effort to breathe and move and fight all at the same time. You weren’t even sure your heart was still beating.

Your sword met his again, he was getting bored, tired of playing nice. You had to meet his blows to protect yourself, as tiring as it was. Your eyes scoured his armour for weak spots, a glimpse of vulnerable flesh… nothing. You took a few quick steps back, gaining distance, and time to think. Then the General downed his third gladiator, and turned to spot you warding off yours. The General advanced, sword slick with blood, but not before the gladiator rushed you and knocked you off your feet. He was atop you, sword poised to go through your chest, but not before you drove yours through his neck. The angle had given you the advantage, just. He rolled off of you, clutching at his neck, gargling on his own blood. He drowned before you, red spilling from his mouth and neck. His hands were covered in his own hot sticky blood, his eyes open as he died. You stood, covered in his blood, and watched as the General finished off the final gladiator who was pinned beneath his own trident like a fish.

You threw your sword aside, disgusted, horrified, on the verge of tears. General Acacius sheathed his own sword and ran to you. Without a word, he had you up in his arms, his nose in your hair.

“Are you hurt, Princess?” He asked, his voice low. You could barely make it out over the crowd’s collective cheering and celebrating.

“A little, General.” You said, clinging to his armour. He held you tight, making for the gate.

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The Roman court and government were in an absolute outrage at your kidnap and torture in the Colosseum. Both of the Emperors ordered the gladiators and slaves brought before them to find the one behind it, but you were too sick to care. Whoever had been behind it had got their way, you were thoroughly shamed and defeated. You had survived, but at what cost?

The General took you straight to the physician. He stayed guarding the room as your wounds were cleaned, packed and dressed. Your beautiful embroidered dress was cut away, to be thrown on the fire. It was soaked in gladiator blood. You watched the General pace the room, hand gripping his sword, jaw set. It took time for the physician to do his work, but he was finally satisfied and allowed you to rest. The General, however, did not leave when the old physician did. He let you settle before speaking to you. You sat yourself up in the bed, thin sheets over your battered body. You had accumulated some nasty bruises from throwing yourself out of harm’s way.

“Princess…” He said softly, kneeling at your bedside. You looked at him with tear-stained eyes and a weak smile. “I will find who did this, they will pay. We will have their heads.” He said this with his head bowed, as if in prayer. You leaned down to him, your fingers lifting his chin. Your eyes met.

“You saved my life, Acacius, that is enough.” His eyes took you in, he thought of you as a star robbed of its starlight. A rose shaken free of its petals.

“Please call me Marcus, Princess.” You breathed deeply for a moment and nodded.

“Marcus, do not let your bloodlust cloud your judgement. I am alive, and I am grateful for that. I will return home when I am well.” His hands took yours, and he traced the back of them for a moment. The words hung in the air, unseen, unheard.

“Will you ever return to Rome?” He asked, holding your fingers out.

“I do not know, when my father hears of this… I could not say if I will be permitted to return one day, Marcus.” Your untidy hair fell in your face, finally freeing itself of its gemstone pins from the night before. Marcus reached up, gingerly placing the hair behind your ear. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared you would shatter at any moment. He said nothing as he memorised the lines on the palm of your hand, red and sore from the long sword’s handle and weight. You sank further into the bed, watching him, his face. You wanted to paint it and frame it in your bedchambers at home, so you would never forget what he looked like.

He then placed the softest kiss on the back of your hand, then your wrist. Your body lit up like a bonfire, like the moon and stars on a dark night, and he looked up at you.

“If you do not return, will you let me remember you?” He asked, taking in the faded scent of rose from your wrist. It was washed away by sweat and blood and hot water now, but he knew it lingered, lest it be his imagination.

“I would want you to remember me, as I will remember you.” You replied eventually, he appeared relieved at this, and suddenly raised himself up to your bed, inches above you. He paused, eyes flickering to your lips, then back to your eyes, your hair. “Do it, I will not regret it.” You whispered, eyes on his lips. With all of the care in Rome, he gave you your first and last kiss, he touched your hair, the side of your face. When he pulled away, he looked down, eyes avoiding yours. “When I go, will you see me?” You asked, voice tight.

“I would not miss it for the world, Princess from afar.” He quickly kissed your head, your wild hair, before withdrawing from your bed and taking himself out of your room.

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You would see him once more when you departed for home with your ladies. Emperor Geta made a grand show of escorting you to the docks and seeing you board your ship bound for your homeland. It had been such a long time, it felt, since you had seen your father and brothers. Geta was sending you with heaps of gifts and treasures for your family, partly as a show of your efforts, and partly as an apology for your kidnap. When the General approached to say his goodbye, kissing your hand firmly with eyes closed, he slipped you something, which you hid down the front of your dress and didn’t open until the ship was sailing.

In your hands now lay a simple gold chain with the retrieved gemstones from your hairpins dangling from it. You smiled to yourself and slipped the necklace on, closing your eyes and wondering if one day you would return to Rome and see him again.

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messyyythoughts © 2024 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support and feedback always welcomed <3

[shedoessoshedoes]

Never Let Me Go, Chapter Two

here it is, @inkedinshadows!!! hope you like where we're going <3

in case you missed, it read part one here or on ao3

wc: ~2400

cw: angst, mentions of canon-typical violence

read this chapter on ao3

As soon as Elain got the words out, the room erupted into chaos. Rhys, she could tell, was watching her vision through Feyre’s eyes, and Cassian was halfway out of the swinging kitchen door to arm himself with some of the various weapons the family kept around the townhouse before she could blink. Nesta tilted Elain’s face up to look at her. “What do you mean, he’s gone?” she asked, that silver fire that Elain knew so well creeping up into her eyes. 

Elain’s breath shuttered out, and she wiped at her face while she sat fully up to face her sister. “He was flying back–it seemed like he was almost close enough to use his shadows to come back home–and someone came crashing into him. He tried to pull him out of the sky, and when that didn’t work immediately, it looked like–like–” she broke off, chest heaving back into sobs. 

“It looked like the Illyrian attempted stabbing Azriel to bring him back down to the ground,” Feyre finished quietly, meeting no one’s eyes. 

“Those mountains look like the ones he would have been over today.” Rhys said quietly. “With his ring on, as well, I think odds are high that the vision is from this trip. I also can’t–I can’t get into contact with him. I tried just now. I haven’t talked to him since last night. Elain, is the bond–” 

Elain felt for it frantically, but her panic had overridden any sense she had of whether the tug she could give it was stronger or weaker than it had been before. “I don’t–I can’t tell,” she said, voice coming out desperate. “He’s still there but if I’m too panicked to feel it and he’s not sending anything back..” 

Nesta finished the sentence for her. “He’s probably just as panicked as you are if you aren’t feeling anything different.” 

Silence fell over the kitchen, and then chaos broke out again. Cassian left the door swinging behind him to sit down at the table and started strategizing with Feyre before Elain could blink, and Rhys’s and Nesta’s faces slowly became fit over with twin cruel masks. Rhys prowled to the head of the table, waving his hand so that a map of the Night Court was spread out in front of the four of them. Elain watched it all happen in a daze, pressing herself back against the cabinets. How they were all able to organize their thoughts like that immediately after hearing the news, she had no idea. She felt as though her entire life was spinning away from her, entirely out of her control. 

“I’m just–I’ll be right back,” she whispered, and bolted from the room, not checking to see if any of the members of her family had even heard her. Elain raced up the richly carpeted stairs and crashed through the door of her and Azriel’s room, gasping as she went to her knees on the floor. She tried to focus her eyes on her wedding band as the room spun, and she fought to catch her breath. 

Was it truly from today? Where was he? Was he safe? Could she feel him as she usually could through through the bond?Did he know that they knew he had been taken? Could his shadows get him out? How would they find him? Did he know that she was ready to tear the world apart to bring him back, ready to bargain away her own life to save his? Gods, he must be in so much pain. What if they couldn’t find him? What if he wasn’t able to heal quickly enough? What if–she cut herself off. 

“You cannot think like that, Elain,” she told herself. “You cannot even begin to think like that. He will be back safe and well before you know it.” She pushed herself up to sitting, back against their bed, staring at the paintings they had up on the wall. Absent-mindedly, she reached up to her nightstand, for the packet of seeds she kept there. They had been a gift from Azriel years ago, and she’d never been able to bring herself to use them. It had been a wonder when the two of them realized they both kept each other’s gifts on their bedside tables and stared at them when they couldn’t sleep. Azriel’s headache powder remained near his pillow even now, for the rare days when Elain was gone or out late with her sisters and he was left to fall asleep alone. Elain rubbed the seam of the packet back and forth between her fingers, trying to decide what to do next. 

It was non-negotiable that she was going to get him back. Elain wasn’t nearly as skilled as Nesta and Feyre in combat, but she would be damned before she let someone else save her husband. Strong, mighty, shadowsinging fae he might be, but he was still hers, and that meant that it was her responsibility to make sure that he was safe. Always. After all, she had been the one to See his attack. She would need to go with her family to make sure they were in the right place, to identify the attacker, to do all of it. If she couldn’t fight, maybe she could be the one to grab Azriel and winnow him out. Her shadow-walking abilities were limited, as far as she and Azriel could tell, to moments of intense need, and this felt like one of the most intense moments they’d had together, even considering their dramatic history. She could do it. She knew that she could. If not through his shadows, she would do it through pure will, would winnow them straight back to Velaris and never let him leave her sight again. Maybe this had been why Azriel was so reluctant to leave–maybe he had a feeling that something was going to go horribly, awfully wrong. Why had she ever let him leave?

Elain steeled herself, then, for what she was going to do. Decision made, she hauled herself up off of the floor and wiped at her face. She turned to check her reflection in the mirror, and what she saw made her lips twitch up in sick amusement. She didn’t look anything like a grieving widow, terrified for her husband and unable to do anything about it. No, she looked like a female wronged, all dried tear tracks and mussed hair, eyes glinting dangerously. She opened the door and made her way back downstairs. 

“I’m getting him back,” she announced, as she arrived back in the kitchen doorway, not waiting for a break in her siblings’ conversation. 

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Then you will die.”

Elain only responded, “I’m getting him back.” The rest of her family looked at her, pondering. She sighed. “I don’t mean that I’m going there alone and fighting my way out. But you will not leave me here alone while you go to rescue my husband from a situation that you only know about because of me. You can bring me in, and I will get him, and we will winnow back. I don’t care what you need to do to whoever he’s with, but you will let me and Azriel handle the interrogation on our own–after Solstice.” She said all of this in a great rush, and when she finished she took a deep breath, smoothing her hands down her front, keeping herself calm. “Now, would you like to tell me your plan?” 

Cassian was the first to speak, standing up as he did so to offer Elain his chair, which she gratefully took. “Do you feel the way that you have the last time you used Azriel’s shadows to winnow, Elain?” 

She nodded. “We know that I can do it when one of us is in mortal danger. If this doesn’t fit that description, I don’t know what does.” 

“Then of course you can come, Elain. We’ll need someone to handle the extraction, and with you there, the rest of us can fight.” He blew out a breath. “You will, however, then be in charge of explaining to Az why you felt the need to put yourself into mortal danger, but as long as I don’t have to have that conversation, be my guest.” Elain nodded. 

“We believe Azriel was flying just over the Southern Mountains when he was taken,” Cassian continued. “There are three camps there that we’ve been trying to get under control, and Az was visiting the northernmost one today. Nesta and I will cover that camp, as well as the surrounding woods to these points. Feyre, you will be in charge of the eastern camp, and Rhys, the one furthest to the South. When we find him, either Nesta or I will tell Feyre and Rhys, who will tell you, Elain, where to go, or they’ll tell you themselves. You’ll be waiting here, in the center of the woods. We’ve tracked no Illyrian activity there for centuries, so I’m hoping that today is not the day they decide to move. If it is, you should be able to winnow out of there.” 

He looked up at the members of his family, and his eyes were those of the general, not a hint of the warmth that Elain had come to know present behind his gaze. “Are you all clear?” 

Nesta, Rhys, and Feyre responded with curt nods, and Elain followed suit. 

“Good. Get changed and be ready to go in five minutes. There are gear and weapons everywhere in this house.” 

That much was true. Even two years of domesticity and six months of newly wedded bliss hadn’t been enough to strip this home of its teeth. Elain had opened a drawer in the living room that she thought held books to find four sets of knives not three days ago. 

The chairs scraped back against the wood of the kitchen floor, and they split off in different directions, Nesta and Cassian whispering furtively as they moved swiftly to the attic, and Feyre and Rhys silent as they winnowed to what used to be their own room. Elain trudged back up the stairs to her room, and pressed her back up against the door as she shut it. She set her gaze upward and whispered a prayer. 

“If you don’t keep him safe,” she said, voice so low even her siblings’ fae ears wouldn’t be able to hear it, “I will come up there and tear you down myself.” 

With that, she set about pulling on her leathers and braiding her hair back, readying herself for battle. I will get him back, she repeated to herself, reminding herself of it over and over. I will get him back. 

She opened her door, Feyre waiting for her at the end of the hallway, and they made their way down the stairs together, faces sober. They turned to meet the group, just as a crash sounded in the family room. 

Elain jerked her head to the side as her husband’s scent–and the scent of his blood–filled the house. “Azriel,” she gasped, eyes unbelieving. She was next to him in an instant, and was met with a groan as he collapsed into her arms.

“Azriel,” she repeated, gasping, trying to hold him up, reaching for his face, his hands, anything she could reach, before she became hyper aware of the gash in his side. She tore the side of his shirt up to see the wound leaking poison and blood. She turned her head over her shoulder to see Nesta turning slightly green. 

“I have a set of medicine and supplies in the kitchen. Third cabinet in, on the bottom. Go, now,” she hissed, turning back to Azriel. Nesta ran out of the room, Cassian and Rhys already moving furniture out of the way so that Elain could get a clear workspace. 

“Table from–” 

“The dining room, got it,” Rhys replied, moving it with barely a flick of his fingers. “What can we do?” 

“Get him on it!” 

Azriel finally gathered his strength enough to speak, even as he leaned more heavily onto his wife. “‘Lain,” he groaned, and the single word sounded like it sapped everything he had in him, putting all of his weight onto Elain and then into Cassian and Rhys’s waiting arms. They hauled him up onto the table, his head flopping back over the side, wings dragging down to the floor.. 

Feyre and Nesta returned then, Nesta heaving Elain’s enormous crate of herbs onto the table near Azriel’s feet and Feyre clutching the medical supplies in her hands. 

“Rhys,” Elain gestured to Azriel’s shirt. “Hold him up. We have to get his shirt off.” 

He complied quickly, and then Elain was left staring at her husband’s poisoned wound. “Feyre, can you–” 

Her sister was already moving, producing a small knife from her belt to cut her hand to feed Azriel her blood. “Yes, of course. Can you tell what poison it is?” 

“I’m working on it. It’s not faebane because he definitely Walked back, so his shadows are still active…” Elain cursed as Azriel started to shake, and missed the shocked glance her sisters exchanged behind her back. “Hold him down. It’s hemlock.” 

“Can you fix that?” Cassian asked, bracing his arms across Azriel’s chest. 

“Of course I can fix that,” Elain muttered, already mixing together her antidote in the mortar and pestle Nesta handed her. “Feyre, water, please.” Feyre complied, forming a large droplet and placing it into the bowl, and then Elain was tipping the mixture into Azriel’s mouth, forcing his jaw closed, relaxing slightly when he swallowed. His breathing steadied, and the convulsions stopped. 

Elain stood up to her full height and pushed her hair back off of her face, turning to face her family. “Alright. That’s all we can do for now. He will be fine. You’ve all been incredibly helpful, and I love you all very much, but I would be very grateful if you would leave.” She turned back around to face Azriel, watching his face while he slept, tracing a finger down his temple. She could hear her family gather their things and leave, and when Nesta shouted a final goodbye, Elain took a steadying breath, and leaned down to kiss Azriel’s forehead. 

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin. “It’s time to get better now.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

Let me know what you think!! Comments/feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome. My ask box is open--let me know what you want to read next!

[citrusandcyanide]

Can't Lost You | L.G.

Part 3 Final

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x f!Reader

an. This took so long to get out cause my classes almost broke me this semester lollll but also I had two possible ways to end this and it took a long time to decide how it would go. This is the last part. I appreciate all the love on the first two parts. I promise I'll write something happy next <333

Synopsis. Reader finally makes her decision to stay or leave for college.

words. 1.2k

Warnings. angst angst

Part 1 Part 2

You woke up in a half drunk daze in Lips bed. The events of last night were as blurry as your vision through the tears you knew clouded your vision at some point in the night. Snippets of your conversation came back to you slowly as you stared up at Lips ceiling. And then it comes back to you, the feeling of his lips against yours, and his hand against your cheek. Lip’s arms guiding you to lay down on the bed. Your hands immediately went to your chest, clinging onto the fabric that still clung to your body. You silently thanked God that meant the kissing was as far as you went. Sitting up, you looked around the room, finally noticing the empty space beside you. He wasn’t there which partially relieved and puzzled you. Slowly you stood up and made your way downstairs. 

Upstairs had been far quieter than you had ever remembered the gallagher house being. The silence was unsettling. Familiar voices filled the kitchen as you descended the back staircase. Lip stood at the counter with a plate of eggs in front of him. To your surprise Mandy was cooking the eggs. Upon your entrance, Mandy turned to you and smiled. 

“Rise and shine, princess,” Mandy greeted you with a quick hug before motioning you to sit down next to lip. Your hug was weaker than hers, but you hoped she would attribute it to having just woken up. You knew Mandy sometimes shows up early, but after last night the air in the room felt heavy. You couldn’t help but look over to Lip, who was not trying to hide avoiding your gaze. Mandy put down a cup of water and a mug of coffee on the counter for you.  “Lip told me you drank a little too much last night. I couldn’t help but check in with you when I got her. You were sleeping like a baby. I couldn’t wake you even if I tried.” 

“Yeah.. Yesterday was blurry,” you replied, picking up the cup of coffee and taking a seat next to Lip. Mandy’s laugh triggered a headache, bringing your attention to the hangover that was getting stronger as you woke up more. “Where did you sleep Lip?” 

“Couch,” He replied quick and quiet. You gave him a look out of the corner of your eye. He just kept eating his eggs. You were too tired and hungover to try to interrogate him on the events of last night. Mandy’s presence also made you want to avoid the subject. The guilt in your chest was slowly building up as Mandy proceeded to make you a plate of eggs and toast. But Lip’s silence was more concerning. Why did he sleep on the couch last night? And why did I fall asleep in his bed? 

“What were you guys doing? Y/n doesn’t drink unless its something big,” Mandy asked. You and Lip froze, waiting for the other to answer. You brought the mug to your lips, hoping he would break the silence and answer. 

His words from last night repeating in your head. 

‘Y/n if you stay, I’m yours.’ 

‘You’re keeping me here’ 

‘I love you’ 

The words “I’m yours” practically throbbing to the rhythm of your headache.

“Y/n’s going to Berkeley for College,” Lip Answered. Just before the coffee could make it out of the mug, you froze. You felt dizzy again. You must of misheard him. I’m going where? You placed your mug down with a deep breath and turned to look at Lip. His face was neutral. You had no idea what was going on in his head. He turned to face you, for the first time this morning looking directly at you.  “We were celebrating.” 

Your lips turned sour, hating the feeling of his that still lingered there. This was enough to make your decision clear. Last night you let your boundaries slip farther than you would ever allow again. Lip was at your feet begging you to stay and you just heard him say you were leaving. Announcing the opposite of what was decided when he kissed you. Who were you kidding? Nothing was decided. There was nothing promising you would stay. There was nothing promising he would be yours. It was just a kiss. You were drunk. It was blurry.  It wasn’t the alcohol that made you believe him, that you would be his that easily. You couldn’t blame it on that. You were waiting for him to say it, hoping he would tell you to stay. But here you are, in his kitchen hungover and delusional. His girlfriend is standing in front of you making you breakfast. And he is telling her, you are leaving. Lying and saying you were celebrating. You had to convince yourself it was all lies. This was enough. 

You heard Mandy cheer which snapped you out of your thoughts. “So you’re actually going?” She asked you with a big smile on her face. In that moment you knew your answer. You were going to erase everything that happened last night from your memory. And you were going to try to do the same for the years you wasted on Lip gallagher. 

“Yes,” You said firmly. “I’m going to Berkeley.” 

You quietly excused yourself from the table and thanked Mandy for the breakfast. You said your goodbyes to her, promising to see her at school. Lip kept quiet as you gave Mandy a hug. When you pulled away, your eyes locked with his. You weren’t going to waste anymore time on him. There was no use in a goodbye. Your silence said it all. 

Epologue: 

The next day you heard knocks on your front door. You didn’t answer him. There was not going to be an apology this time. You had nothing left to say to him. For the next few weeks, you’d get voicemails from Lip, asking where you were and if you’d speak to him. Everytime he called, you’d never reply. After awhile you stopped listening to the voicemails completely. Then they stopped. He didn’t try to approach you at school, even though you could feel his presence when he was around. Once you graduated, you stopped seeing him completely. He respected your distance and kept away. The rest of the Gallaghers seemed to respect that too. You attended Berkeley, moved across Chicago and left your hometown behind. You got the freedom you wanted, and life without Lip was just as pleasant as you imagined it. Lip, however, wouldn’t let go completely. He’d send you text messages every now and then asking you how you were. Sometimes the messages would contain apologies, begging for your forgiving, pleading for you to come back. You didn’t reply. Your silence said it all. 

[auroralwriting]

illicit affairs

chapter one

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

miss stark begins to have doubts about her "family."

chapter two | series masterlist

warnings: violence, language, small age gap (6~ years), angst, arguing, drinking, overall crime and gang stuff, sort of enemies to lovers

Back before The Fallout, as many outsiders dubbed it, The Avengers were a tight knit group of friends in New York who were founded to change the look of "gangs," as some called them. However, not long after its beginning, its end came just as fast.

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, the pivotal members, just couldn't decide on how The Avengers should be ran. So, they split up almost equally into two groups, each taking a part of the city to call their own.

The Northside Stark Syndicates (aka Queens) was now made up of James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Paul Bettany, who simply was nicknamed by everyone as "Vision," Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, and his little sister.

The Southside Avengers (Brooklyn), who kept the original name, included Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, and Bucky Barnes.

In the previous years, Tony had kept you out of the original Avengers due to your younger, more innocent age. Now, however, in your early twenties, Tony was quick to introduce you to the life you were somewhat protected from.

"I'm telling you," Clint whined, "they gave us a look."

Vision raised an eyebrow, "I highly doubt they gave us a look. I mean, were the biggest crime unit in the city." Oh, yeah, was it mentioned that nowadays the gangs were not made to change the look of gangs? "Plus, if they really gave us a look, we all would have seen it."

You sat on your chair, scrolling through you phone bored out of your mind. Honestly, who gives a shit if someone gives a look? You surely didn't care, and neither did Bruce.

"I really don'y think it matters anyways," Bruce commented. "If they do it again, we'll just beat their asses.

"I'm gonna check it out, it's worth it." Tony decided, clapping his hands. "And for the love of god, can we stop saying the bad words around the child?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not a kid, Tony. I take care of myself."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony waved you off. "I'm gonna go check it out. Let's go partying after."

Rhodey gave an obnoxiously loud sigh, "I don't want to party, I just want to chill and drink. We've been partying almost every night this week. Can't we just go to some bar, watch some tv, and drink?"

"All in vote of drinking at a bar?" Clint asked as everyone raised their hands. "It's settled then."

"You're all such losers," Tony moaned. "I need new friends, seriously, you're all so fuckin' lame." Tony grabbed his knife and shoved it in his pocket. "Happy told me about this new bar, Tito's. Let's try there."

Vision looked to Tony with a confused look, "Isn't that almost on the South?"

The room got tense as Tony stared blankly at Vision. "Almost. It's like, right in the middle. We'll be fine." Infamous last words.

"This place isn't so bad," Rhodey said as the group walked in. You felt eyes on you; that happened wherever you went. "It's casual, kind of relaxing."

The six of you got seats at the bar as you all ordered your drinks. "It's alright," Tony shrugged, "Not the same as a club, but not bad." His face was a little more blue than a couple of hours ago. It was clear he roughed up those guys from earlier.

"Oh my god, Tony, give up the clubbing idea." Clint grumbled.

You took a sip of your drink as the room became oddly silent. Your eyes fell to the door. Oh, shit. In walked The Avengers, whose eyes all fell on your group just as quick as it took for your friends to notice them as well. The stares were brutal as they made their way to a booth, Steve's eyes never left Tony's. Tony's never left Steve. It was an awkward tension. Soon, a quiet chatter, more quiet than before, fell upon the bar again.

"Maybe we should just leave," You muttered softly.

"I agree, I'm not liking this tension. Also, Romanoff won't stop staring at me." Clint sighed. The two of them used to be tight, almost tighter than any other duos in the old group. It was clear their tension was wild.

Tony shook his head, "No, we were here first." Your eyes fell back to the group. It only took a moment before Sam nudged Steve, who stared right back at you. The rest of the group followed suit as you felt yourself being turned around. "Stop that, don't look at them."

"But we were before," You protested.

"And that's not now, so stop." Tony replied as you gave a small sigh.

After a few minutes, it wasn't hard to hear mumbles from the table. The only words you could clearly understand were Tony, unsuitable, and fucker.

That was all it took for Tony to jump off his chair and make his way to the booth. You found Clint's eyes, who looked just as shocked as you. The rest of you scrambled to follow.

"Don't you dare talk about me," Tony sneered, grabbing hold of Steve's collar.

Steve only smirked, "Can't take the hits to your ego?"

Vision put his hand on Tony's arm, "Let's just go, man." It hadn't been long since Tony and Steve had it out last, and that left them both bloody and blue with new marks in their records. "Let's go clubbing."

"No, I want to know what this shit-face said about me." Tony snarled, "So tell me, what'd you say?"

"Let go of him, Stark." Sam warned. "We don't want any problems tonight."

Clint kept you almost hidden behind him. While you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, you were still young. The youngest of both groups, actually. You were freshly twenty-two, Wanda was only twenty-four, but she'd been in this business much longer than you had.

"Well we're gonna have some if Rogers doesn't open his mouth." Tony responded.

"You wanna add some more blue to that face of yours?" Bucky chimed in. That was enough to break the camels back. It was no secret that if there was anyone Tony hated more than Steve, it was his best bud, Bucky. Bucky used to be a part of the mafia out on the west coast. In some off handed way, he was the reason your parents got themselves killed. Even if it wasn't Bucky's hands, Tony saw it as such. Deep down, you knew that wasn't his intentions.

Tony's fist was nearly about to hit Steve's face as you jumped forward, letting it hit your palm. The pain that shot through your hand made you wince as you tried to push Tony's hand back. "Tony, stop it. We're leaving now." Tony gave one last dark look to Steve as he turned on his heel, walking away with Bruce and Rhodey close behind him.

"Stark," Clint muttered as he grabbed your hand. "Let's go wrap this up." Vision was quick to move your arm close to your chest as his arm wrapped around you, guiding you away from The Avengers.

As you three walked away, you turned your head to see them staring at you three. No, they were just staring at you.

Back at the table, Wanda's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?" She asked Steve with concern.

"I'm fine," Steve muttered, unable to peel his eyes from you.

"What?" Sam asked, noticing his lingering stare as the three of you exited the bar.

Steve shook his head, "She just took a full blown punch," He muttered under his breath.

"Probably broke her hand doing so," Natasha chimed in. "Did you see the power in that punch? She had to have at least sprained it."

Wanda screwed her face, "And Tony didn't even care. Didn't even give her a second glance."

A low hum came from Steve, "Did anyone ever meet her?" A collective head shake came from the booth.

“Didn’t Stark keep her locked away like Rapunzel?” Natasha asked, her curiosity officially peaked. “I don’t even really remember him mentioning her, besides the fact that he had a sister and she was younger.”

“I think he said she lived with their parents at the time,” Sam thoughtfully answered. “Out on the west coast. She moved here after they died, I think.”

Bucky spoke up, “But why’d she do that? She had no reason to take a hit for Steve.”

“Maybe she’s the only level headed person there,” Sam chuckled.

“Not well enough to keep them out of the mafia’s eyes,” Steve replied. “Stark’s got their attention, at least for now.”

Nat clicked her tongue, “He probably wants their help to get rid of us.”

With a small nod, Steve chided, “Which he won’t succeed in.”

“Can you bend your fingers? Move your wrist?” Clint asked carefully as Vision finished wrapping your hand. It hurt like absolute hell. It had to be sprained, maybe even broken.

You gave a hesitant reply as you tried to bend your fingers. “It hurts too much,” You shook your head. “I’m just gonna let it rest for now. I’ll try again soon. Thanks,” You mused to Vision as he gave a small smile, walking away with the medical kit.

“We need to get them back.” Tony said as he entered the room. “Rogers can’t pull some shitty stunt like that.”

Clint sighed, “Why don’t we just drop it for now? I thought the plan was to get the Asgardian Mafia to help us run them out, not kill them.”

“Killing them sounds wonderful,” Tony almost sang as he sat down. After a moment, he eyed your hand. “Hey, how’s that hand?”

You rolled your eyes, “Not great, thanks to you”

Tony’s face fell, “Hey, you shouldn’t have blocked my punch!” Tony angrily responded.

“You shouldn’t have started a fight in the middle of some bar we’ve never been to!” You argued in response. “It was stupid and it was reckless.”

“I’m gonna get the Hydra boys to fuck with them a little,” Rhodey announced from his spot on the couch where he was silently observing. “Maybe let them fuck ‘em up a bit.”

The Hydra boys were no good around here. They weren’t necessarily a gang, nor mafia. Maybe at one point they were, but now they were now just asses who loved to put their noses where they didn’t belong. The south had their own, too, called Shield. They were known to be more tolerable, less willing to do whatever anyone wanted. You had to know them to get their help.

“Don’t involve Hydra. They’re no good, really. I think they do more than they say they do.” Vision called out from the bathroom where he was putting away the medical kit.

“Then I’ll call The Guardians,” Rhodey shrugged. “They’ll do anything for an extra buck.”

Tony shrugged, “Fine with me, Quill’ll fuck them up really good. Make sure they all bleed, and tell Quill to get it on photo.” You got nervous at his words. Sure, tensions had been high lately, but it had never been this bad before.

Tony’s words made you reconsider everything that had been happening. Things were getting too serious too fast. Even worse, Tony no longer listened to your warnings. He was getting angrier by the second. Deep down, you knew things needed to change, and that started with helping the other side to gain some trust.

[citrusses]

trash tuesday thursday

thank you @garagepaperback for tagging me and no thank you for calling that masterpiece of emotion you dropped "trash." this is from an 8th year-ish drarry fic I have medium abandoned where the students don't stay at Hogwarts and have to do internships instead of just attending classes. And would you believe it harry and draco end up at the same internship! they're also living together for pining and sexual tension reasons. the below snippet references drinking, drug use, and harry sleeping with another person. i haven't written an ending for this fic but theoretically it's a happy one <3

Harry woke up sweating, his mouth stuffed with cotton, his throat sore, his eyes burning.

Celine was there, in his bed, her hair fanned out around her head like a halo. There were two parallel indents from Harry’s sheets cutting across her cheeks, and somehow the presence of imperfections on her beautiful face only made her seem more like something out of a museum. Beautiful. Pristine. Not to be touched.  

Harry, on the other hand, felt like a sack of shit left to spoil in the sun, and he didn’t smell much better. He needed to shower. He needed food. He needed water. 

It would be useless to try to cast Agumanenti in his current state. Whatever water he could conjure right now would probably taste as foul as Harry’s breath currently did. 

He debated going into his own bathroom, but ditched the idea because he was terrified of speaking to Celine if she woke up. Guiltily, he moved the duvet off of himself, and awkwardly rolled off the bed, placing his feet down as quietly as he could on the cool floor. He’d never been so grateful for Grimmauld’s incurable draughts. 

In his boxers, he crept down the stairs, trying to piece together the rest of his night. They’d Apparated back to his bedroom. He was lucky they hadn’t splinched their arms and legs all across London.

At least they’d had the sense not to rely on magic for protection and contraceptive charms. Harry’s brain felt pinched with the effort of trying to remember it. He was almost positive they’d done the charms. Like, ninety-eight percent sure. Ninety-five, at worst.

Harry liked Celine well enough, and God knows she was attractive. Objectively speaking, that is. Harry actually hadn’t felt all that attracted to her before last night, when the lights started spinning off Draco's hair and the drugs they had taken hit his bloodstream like bombs going off in his veins.

In the greasy light of a hungover dawn, this all was looking like a pretty horrible decision. They still had weeks left of the internship, and things between them at work were bound to be awkward now. Would she want a relationship? She hadn’t seemed that keen on Harry, either, in their prior (sober) interactions at work. 

He wished he’d had the sense to grab his glasses before sneaking out of the room. Vision blurry, he rounded the corner, and drew up short when he registered that someone was already in the kitchen. 

“Did you have a good night?” Draco asked waspishly. Despite the fact that he’d been matching Harry's pace the night before, not a hair on his head was out of place. He was wearing that fucking dressing gown, and a mug of tea was steaming on the butcher’s block like something from a domestic still life. His composure made Harry’s hangover feel immediately worse. 

“Er, yeah,” Harry answered, wishing Draco would move away from the sink. He wanted to put his entire head under it. 

“I looked for you, after I came back from the loo.” 

“Oh,” Harry said stupidly. “Well, actually, I ended up—” 

“I know exactly where you ended up, Potter,” Draco snapped. “The walls in this cursed house are as thin as paper.” 

Harry felt his face flush. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, piss you off…” 

“Why on earth would I care what you do. Or who you do it with.” Draco didn’t even ask it like a question. His tone was flat enough to balance a marble on. 

“I never said you would,” Harry bit back, irritated. “Can you please let me get a glass of fucking water, and then we can continue whatever this is when I’m not about to actually die from thirst?” 

“What, you’re so hanging you can’t even cast?” Draco said meanly. "Impressive command of magic as always, Potter."  

“What’s crawled up your arse today, Malfoy?” 

“That,” Draco hissed, “isn’t any of your business, now is it?”

okay tagging @sweet-s0rr0w @thehoneybeet @getawayfox @rainstormradish @maesterchill @the-invisibility-bloke @wolfpants @skeptiquewrites @toomuchplor @lemonlimelea if you have trash or treasure to share!

[wintersera]

12 — help me out (half written)

as soon as you walk out of class you were met with a shorter girl excitedly waiting with her books in her hands. she was tapping her feet really REALLY fast with a goofy ass grin plastered on her face.

“i thought you were gonna wait outside college? what are you doing outside my class?” you giggled a little, seeing her eyes light up from seeing you in front of her.

oh you thought a little.. she’s kinda cute

“OH? sorry i got a little too excited, i don’t usually have people coming around my house”

“aww that’s okay. but excited to study? i’ve never seen someone so enthusiastic about working on a project before. it’s kinda cute and funny to see how you’re so happy about this”

you noticed something, luckily she was too ecstatic to even realise because she would’ve been severely embarrassed, but by the way she jumped at your comment made your heart pang.

“so your house right?”

“yup! it’s not too far from here so we can walk there”

“perfect, my legs have been hurting from last night… god”

“what did you so last night that made them hurt that much?” tilting her head a little, just like a puppy.

“i ran around my neighbourhood like a lunatic. that wolf needs to be found- like what if it’s cold and lonely? but at the same time i’m thinking it’s good that she escaped, because imagine the mom came after me… thinking about it makes me shiver”

“oh.. ah yeah the wolf”

“you’re not gonna berate me like my friends did right?”

“no no, i find it nice that you took in an animal. seems like you really care about it”

“of course i do! poor puppy was cold and injured- i had to do something”

with that conversation flowing you both drifted out to the exit. minjeong smiling and laughing at your silly little rants about whatever came to your mind at the time.

—

she was right. for some reason her house was really really damn close to the college. the walk was actually really relaxing, you and minjeong just talking like you were old friends who were catching up with eachother until- BOOM you were at her front of her door.

“oh by the way- parents aren’t in so you can relax and do whatever BUT of course, don’t break anything”

“cool i’ll definately make myself comfortable. so… where’s you room jeongie?”

“ah- uh… haha upstairs” you made yourself reaalll comfortable in her house, walking up the stairs with no hesitation after you took of your shoes and then eventually out of minjeongs line of sight. with you outside her visions, she whipped out her phone and quickly opened the bird app.

you wondered why she took so long to come into her room, feeling a little bit perplexed by the rooms location you called out her name- “jeongie help me find your room”

“oh yeah sure. let me just-“ walking up the stairs and guiding you to where her room is “you can sit here and get ready i’ll just be getting some snacks for us”

“SNACKS?”

—

and now you were here, studying at her desk, while she looks over your shoulder with curiosity, stumbling a little while she’s standing.

“soooooo… what have you planned out?”

“eehhh nothing much actually, i’m just outlining this one thing and then we can wing it? i think?? i dont know jeongie.. do you have any ideas?”

…..

“jeongie?” her sudden silence was odd. why did she suddenly go quiet? you questioned if she even fainted, but no she didn’t. she stood there silently. her eyes darting around the rooms, hands clutching her shirt and panting heavily. was she about to have a panic attack- “jeongie are you… okay?”

“yeah… um… i feel r-really really weird and hot right now? i don’t know i feel funny… like really funny” her cheeks were flushed, bright red. she didn’t look like she had the flu so why… was she like this? you placed your palm on her forehead checking the temperature and god was she hot. there were no symptoms of her having the flu previously… strange, you thought.

“mmm… y/n… feels so weird…” she looked at you, like as if she was asking you for something. she had those begging puppy eyes that melted your heart and shattered them into tiny little fragments.

“do you need me to call someone? like a friend of yours or something or maybe even the ambulance?? like are you okay?”

“i- i dont know…” stammering as she tried her absolute best not to look you in the eye “i… i think i’ll be okay i just? i feel strange… it’ll pass…”

“uh… okay just say what you need and i’ll get it for you”

there was a prolonged silence. your mind was dropped into a silent panicked state, what could you do to help her out if she didn’t know what she was feeling? let alone your lack of knowledge of what exactly she was feeling. again, you believed she was having a sudden panic attack. i mean they do come at random occasions so that could be it right?

not even a few seconds pass by and her fingertips played with the collar of your shirt. you were still sat down of course, but with your chair swivelled around to see minjeong.

…what on earth is she doing?

“it’s weird.. i really know it is but… i can’t stop thinking about you right now…. all i can think about is you and i don’t know why”

frozen in confusion and maybe even shock, you had no idea what she was on about. she was kinda acting weird, scratch ‘kinda’, she was weird… yet strangely cute.

“what…? what do you want me to do about that information?”

“…help me out…” her breath shakey as she spoke.

a/n: ARE THEY ABOUT TO FU-

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[sleepysnk]

a/n: i really wanted to write something for hanma because i missed him a lot </3 so i hope you guys enjoy this!! i felt like something fluffy would work with him this time, so <3.

pairings: hanma shuji x fem!reader

warnings: some brief angst, fluff leading to smut, mentions of violence (not towards reader), established relationship, mentions of food, brief jealousy mentions, nsfw, vanilla sex, use of pet names (baby, babydoll, doll), light choking if you squint, breeding kink, creampie, after care, fluffy hanma.

synopsis: you and hanma had been together for two years. he never thought in a million years that you would both last this long, so he wanted to do something special for you on your special day. you deserved the world, and he was going to be the one to give you it. he had many ideas in mind, but the main one was showing you how much he loved you.

his always and forever ft. hanma shuji

Hanma Shuji was truly blessed to have someone like you in his life. Let alone having you as his girlfriend.

Today was your two year anniversary. It was a date that was imprinted on his brain from the moment you said yes to being his. He was so thrilled to have such a great woman in his life. You were like an angel sent from heaven itself to bless him with your love. You made him such a happier man, and your presence as a whole came at such a difficult moment in his life. In a way, he could say that you saved him from doing the worst to himself or even others.

Hanma had done plenty of bad things in his life. He had fought men who had a debt to the gang he was in, he often drank until his vision was completely blurred, and he even severed ties with family that tried their best to do good for him. He was truly lost before you came. He spent his days wandering his large apartment without a single person to occupy it with him. It was lonely and he despised that feeling more than he would like to admit. He desired someone to share his place with and have someone to come home to every night. Sure, he had hooked up with plenty of women beforehand. Some of them were great and even potential candidates for that lifestyle, but the others were only into him for a cash grab and that was it. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be with a woman who only saw him as a piggy bank for whatever shopping spree they wanted to go on. Hanma wanted peace and one person he could rely on, but at the time, he knew that wouldn’t happen. He was a thug, a criminal, no one would want a man like him.

But then, everything changed the day he came across you.

Hanma had a very long day. He was exhausted with all he had to do, so he decided to make a stop at a cafe he had visited many times before. It was sort of busy for a late afternoon day, but that never really provoked the man that much. He paid for his coffee and waited patiently behind a few people. He became distracted by his cell phone because Kisaki had been in his messages for some reason asking about a recent incident that took place. Hanma was about to respond, but when piping hot coffee began to scald his chest that message was discarded.

He looked up, feeling furious about what had just gone down. However, those feelings had disappeared when he made eye contact with you. You were standing there with a very apologetic facial expression. The coffee you once held in your right hand was now splattered onto the floor, and some of it had gotten into Hanma’s plain white shirt. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and you wanted to melt into the floor with how shitty you felt. He was a complete stranger, an intimidating one at that. He was taller than you by a few inches, and he honestly had a scary look in his eye that would send any man or woman running for their lives.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there! Oh, god.. let me help clean you up..”

Hanma was stunned at your beauty. He wasn’t even angry about his suit anymore. All his brain was fixated on was you and how your fingertips felt rubbing the thin napkins against his chest and his abdomen. You looked like you were about to burst into tears from how afraid you looked. He began to feel guilty for shooting you such a glare, because you genuinely seemed very sorry for such actions. 

“No worries.. thank you for your help, doll.”

When the pet name slipped from his lips you froze on the spot. Someone as attractive as him was calling you that? It felt almost hard to believe at the time, but you were instantly relieved to hear that he wasn’t angry with you over the accident you created. Hanma honestly began to feel bad for you, though. Your coffee was spilled all over the tiled floor, and many people were still staring at the two of you with these wide eyes that bored into both of your heads. He often hated attention like that. Some people just didn’t know how to mind their own business nowadays. It was a small mistake. It wasn’t like you had a breakdown in the middle of the cafe and threw your coffee at him.

“Let me buy you a new coffee..”

“What? N-No! That was my fault-“

“Doll, it’s fine. I have nowhere else to be and all I need is your order.”

To be honest, you hesitated at such a gesture from the mysterious man. Neither of you knew each other, but he was being so kind to you yet you almost burned his skin with the beverage you swore you were holding onto with all your strength. However, you agreed and gave him your coffee order. He simply went to the barista and paid for it, but you were a bit confused why he was taking so long to come back. You wondered about his motives, but when he grabbed his own coffee and waved as he passed you, you felt disappointed. You thought that maybe you would spark a conversation with him, but alas, that didn’t seem very likely.

Once your coffee was done, you walked past several customers and grabbed it off of the counter. Though, the cup wasn’t blank, and there was something written on the side of it.

“Call me sometime <3 let me buy you an actual drink- Hanma Shuji.”

That’s how your romance had blossomed to what it was today. Hanma wasn’t expecting you to call him that night after the whole incident at the cafe, but he was relieved to hear your voice. The two of you chatted all night about anything that came about in the conversation. Although you didn’t reach very personal levels, Hanma was very interested in knowing things about you. He asked about what you did for a living, if you had any siblings, what kind of food you liked, etc. Talking to you made him so happy and he was so excited to hear that you wanted to go on a date with him at some point. Hearing those words made sunlight shine into his heart, clearing the storm clouds that had surrounded it for such a long time. He knew moving at such a pace could result in some negative reactions, but you seemed different. He was well aware that it sounded cliché of him to say such a thing, but it was how he felt about you. He couldn’t deny that one bit.

Weeks turned to months and eventually two years later you were both still together.

You had zero regrets about saying yes to Hanma all those years ago. He treated you like a princess and spoiled you rotten with whatever you wanted. He was a bit reluctant to let you in at first, considering he had been abandoned many times before by different women, but you assured him that you were sticking around for the long run no matter what. You got to see the real Hanma Shuji, and it was honestly beautiful. He may have had some flaws, but you did too. You were both able to work through those things and be patient with one another. There may have been a few rough days and some fights, but even through that you both fell in love with each other. 

You were able to change Hanma for the better. He was so happy to have found you, and being by your side benefited him in so many ways. He couldn’t ever imagine himself being with another woman besides you. He was fully convinced that he had found his soulmate.

He couldn’t believe that two years had passed. He had so many things planned for the two of you that day, and he couldn’t wait to get started with you by his side. 

The morning began with Hanma making you some delicious breakfast in bed. He was not the greatest cook, but living on his own for almost ten years taught him a lot about cooking and having to rely on home meals rather than ordering take out from the nearest restaurant. He made you some eggs and some really fluffy pancakes with your favorite fruit on top. It was adorable and waking up to the aroma of food made you so happy. The breakfast was delicious and Hanma’s heart warmed when he saw your pretty smile flash when you began to eat your pancakes. He knew they were a favorite of yours. Sometimes you’d only eat his, nobody else’s. It made him feel proud as your boyfriend that he was able to make you happy with his food. 

“Happy Anniversary, babydoll. I love you..”

In the afternoon, he took you out for lunch. He even took you out shopping afterwards to splurge on whatever you wanted. It was adorable to see you walking around the many stores with different items in your hands. You often told Hanma that you didn’t need his money to make you happy, but he insisted that you use it. He made more than enough for all the bills to be paid, so it was no problem at all if he wanted to spoil you for a bit. Despite that, you rarely ever spent more than you needed. You did live a rather comfortable lifestyle, but there was that side of you that wanted to consider Hanma’s feelings as well. 

Once you both arrived home, Hanma was excited to make dinner for you both. There was a toss up between going out and eating at another restaurant somewhere downtown, but you told him you were fine with whatever he wanted to do. He took it upon himself to learn a new recipe for you. He worried he would totally light the kitchen on fire if he wasn’t careful with what he was doing, but it had all gone completely smoothly and he was proud of himself. You were also quite surprised to see that he had been successful in making your supper. Hanma hadn’t always been a fan of working in the kitchen, so seeing him do such a great job made you so happy. The food also smelled divine. Your mouth was watering the second you sat down at the table to eat it. Hanma was a bit worried that you may not like it or you would have a negative reaction to his cooking, but much to his surprise, your face lit up with happiness when the flavors reached your tongue. It was so great. Pride swelled inside his chest when you started smiling at him and looking at him with love in your eyes.

“This is so good, baby! You really outdid yourself with this!”

God, it was like he was falling in love with you all over again.

The feelings Hanma had for you were so overwhelming he could almost break down and cry from how intense it was. He never imagined he would be cooking a meal for a woman he had been dating for two years. He didn’t think the day would ever come that you would move in with him and sleep beside him in the same bed every single night. He felt so lucky to have found someone as great as you even though he had been surrounded with darkness for so long. You helped him escape and surrounded him with such light that the abyss he was once in seemed to be a forgotten memory. 

After dinner was finished, you both retired to your bedroom where Hanma found himself wanting to give you one more anniversary present. 

Himself.

Hanma was hovering above your naked body. His cock was splitting your cunt apart with every rut of his hips. You two had been at it for quite a bit. He had kept up with quite a slow and tender pace. Hanma told himself he wasn’t going to rush such an intimate moment with you on a day like that. He had plenty of time with you to make it nasty and rough, but right now, all he was focusing on was you. Your pretty voice called for him and made his cock twitch. He had sex with you many times prior to this moment, but you never failed to amaze him with your angelic beauty. Your delicate skin, gorgeous face, there was so much to love about you. He just couldn’t keep his eyes off of your form that was taking him so well. He could make love to you like that all day if he really wanted to. There was nothing to get bored of.

Your nails clawed into the skin of his shoulders. Marks covered his flesh, but he didn’t bat a single eye at that. You were in utter bliss underneath your boyfriend. He never failed to make you feel good. Hanma knew your body better than anybody else and he made you feel so much ecstasy. “Ah..! Hanma! So good..” you made eye contact with the man above you. Your eyes were somewhat blurry from the pleasure that he allowed to ripple through your body.

Hanma was sweating. A few strands of his dual colored hair clung to his forehead from the moisture that had collected itself on his skin. He loved whenever his name slipped off your tongue like he was a prayer. Hanma couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his features when he heard your whines for him. You were so beautiful and good for him. You deserved all the pleasure that was coming to you tonight. “Yeah, keep sayin’ my name, baby. Fuck.. I love you so much..” he placed his hand around the base of your throat, holding you in place so he could stare at your pretty face while he thrusted up into you. 

You let your jaw fall slack as the euphoria you felt increased with every movement. He reached spots inside of your pussy that made you see stars within your vision. Hanma couldn’t believe that a whole stupid coffee incident allowed him to meet someone like you. He always imagined that he would reach the end of his life alone without a single person to share himself with, but having you completely changed that outlook for him. Your presence alone lit up his life and allowed him to see things through a different perspective. You truly blessed him more than you realized, and he couldn’t believe that you didn’t leave him in those two years you’ve been together. Hanma sometimes thought he didn’t deserve you. He imagined at some point you would find someone better than him and you’d leave him, but you didn’t and he was so happy that you gave him a chance.

Sure, you had your ugly days, but even through that you both worked on those issues and continued loving one another without having a second thought about it.

Hanma’s free hand went to intertwine with your own. He leaned down to press his forehead against you and allowed eye contact to be connected between you both. His honey eyes were blown with lust and staring at you with such admiration you could melt from just one glance from him. You smiled when your eyes flickered around his handsome face. There was no one cuter than Hanma Shuji. He was perfect in every little aspect. 

He then kissed you, which took you by surprise. It was soft and gentle. His lips felt like you were kissing two soft pillows that you couldn’t pull away from. He was such a good kisser. It was one of the many things you loved about Hanma. His kisses could sweep you right off of your feet and you would grow weak in the knees whenever his lips brushed against yours. It was slow, but his tongue would occasionally brush against your bottom lip to try and gain access to your mouth. You obliged and allowed him in, deepening the kiss between you both. The pleasure was just too good. 

You gasped when he finally reached your g-spot, sending bolts of electricity along your belly. Hanma smirked in the kiss when that pretty noise escaped your lips. He had no problem discovering that delicious spot inside of you. He squeezed your throat slightly, but not hard enough to restrict your breathing. “Heh.. look at you, babydoll. You’re takin’ my cock so well..” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine from how hot his voice sounded in your ears. “Wanna cum, baby? You’re really fucking tight right now..”

Your orgasm was creeping upon you faster than you had expected, but nonetheless you craved it more than anything else. Your hands gripped Hanma’s shoulders tightly, fearing he might disappear from his spot between your legs. With every thrust, the pit in your belly grew larger and you became even more needy than before. “Y-Yes! Hanma, please..! ‘Need you!” you whined, sharply. 

Hanma fucking loved hearing how desperate you were for that release inside your gut. He then began to fuck you just a bit faster this time. It was nothing too aggressive or quick for your liking, but it was just enough to really wind you up. The noises slipping from your throat made him smirk and watch you with seduction. He loved you so much when you were like this. He realized that you were a goddess and nobody else would ever compare to you in any department. It didn’t matter if you left him at some point. Hanma Shuji would always be devoted to you at the end of the day. He was so deeply in love with you that it almost hurt him to not be by your side. 

You’d be the one he would come home to, always and forever.

Your eyes rolled behind your skull as your orgasm grew closer. You couldn’t help but arch upwards whenever he kissed at your g-spot with the tip of his cock. The moans that came from your mouth were neverendless and Hanma was living for how pretty you sounded under him. He grunted when he felt your walls tightening around him. He was close himself, but all he desired was seeing you reach your high. After several thrusts, your cunt clamped around his cock. Hanma couldn’t help but hiss at the sensation of your pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. Your moans were much higher as he fucked you through your orgasm. He loved hearing your voice like that. He could play it like his favorite song and never get tired of you. “Fuckkk, yeah.. where do you want my – shit! – my cum, babydoll? Talk to me.. fuck..” he nodded his head, gritting his teeth as the last curse slipped through his mouth. 

“I-Inside! Hanma, inside!” you then locked your ankles around his waist, keeping him nice and snug inside of your dripping cunt.

He couldn’t help but grin at that statement. He wasn’t against it whatsoever, but he was very excited to hear that. He then looked down at you and began to pick up his pace a little. His high was so fucking close he could practically taste the sensation. “Shit.. ‘gonna fill you good, baby. Give you a baby, yeah..? Pregnant with my baby..” he let his head fall backwards as the euphoria took over him.

Within seconds, Hanma reached his climax. Thick white ropes of his cum filled your pussy and reached your womb. Goosebumps littered your skin from the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim. He let out a groan at the affects of his high. It hit him pretty hard, which caused him to tremble a bit. 

After a few minutes, Hanma lied down beside you and pulled you towards him. Both of you were sweating and panting fairly heavily, but that soon calmed when the activities between you two had come to an end. Your ear pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating. It was quite rapid, but once he had you within his arms his beats began to slow down and calm themselves. There was nothing better than holding you after having sex with you. Your skin was so warm underneath his fingertips that you could melt. He didn’t care if you were both dripping with sweat and the smell of sex was lingering around the room. All that mattered was that you were here with him and you were safe in his arms.

He planted a kiss on the top of your head and rested his chin atop it. He couldn’t help but smile at the results of today. It was quite successful and you two had an amazing anniversary with one another. “I love you, doll..” he whispered, squeezing the flesh of your hips softly. “I love you so much.. don’t forget that.”

You grinned, letting your eyes fall shut. “I love you more, Hanma.”

[blindmagdalena]

I’m in dire need of angst. How do you think he would react to someone who didn’t have a close relationship with their parents? I’m just imagining an awkward Christmas dinner, their family totally sucking up to Homelander. But also not-so-subtlety making passive agressive/snarky comments towards the reader.

It was definitely his idea to go to Christmas dinner in the first place. You've been dreading it. He insisted, though. You don't want to deny him this when he doesn't even have a family, and he's clearly so excited by the prospect of it.

And to be fair, it started off well enough. Your family was so excited to meet Homelander. They couldn't believe this was really happening!

It didn't last long, though. Your dad just had to make an offhanded remark about how you sure were "dating up."

That was the beginning of the end.

Through the night, Homelander grows gradually less boisterous. He's talking less, listening more. You're uncomfortable, dejected, but ultimately you knew it would end up this way. You just wish he would have listened to you.

By the time dinner rolls around, the tension in the air is palpable. Homelander has stopped preening under the praises of your family. You want nothing more than to eat and leave.

The final straw is when your mother sneaks in a snipe about how you "Really could have dressed up for the occasion."

"Well, Sheryl," Homelander begins, his tone immediately catching the attention of the entire table. "You could have tasted the mashed potatoes before you salted them into an inedible sodium fuckfest, but hey, I guess that's beyond your scope of competence."

The silence is deafening.

He isn't done. "God, y'know. You people. You had one job. All you had to do was be good. Nice. Shovel some food into your face and not be total fucking pricks at every available moment, but y'couldn't even manage that. Y'had to air out eeevery single little nitpick and grievance that sprang into your circus peanut brains."

You're stunned, jaw hanging. Your mother's expression mirrors yours. With a noise of indignation, your father begins to stand.

"Sit the fuck down, Henry," Homelander snaps with a flare of crimson to his gaze that puts a shiver down your spine. It works. Your father sits, and the light fades away. "Now that's the smartest thing you've done all night. Didn't think you had it in you."

Homelander pushes his mostly full plate away and sighs, picking up the napkin from his lap to fold. "I was the one who asked to come here, y'know. Practically begged. Thought Christmas might just be a grand ol' time. Do you know how often I'm wrong? I'll give you a hint: it's not often. But you..." He wags his finger between them, smiling more maliciously than you've ever seen him. "You folks really got me tonight."

He stands up. Your heart is pounding in pure anxious adrenaline. For a moment you have a terrible vision of him leaving you here, furious with them and you that this wasn't the experience he had been hoping for.

His hand in your face snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up sharply, and see him looking down at you, that wicked expression suddenly much softer. Kind, even with that anger still simmering under the surface. You close your mouth and take his hand, swallowing.

"Lucky for me I already got my Christmas wish, hmm?" He says, offering you a little wink. "You are... perfect," he says, leaning in to press a tender little kiss to your forehead, emphasizing it with a pointed mmmwuah. "No idea how you escaped all that unscathed," he says, nodding his head in your parents' direction. "So, how about you and I blow this popsicle stand and go find a whooole lotta mistletoe to stand under?"

You exhale a breathless little laugh, tears prickling hotly at your eyes, overwhelmed by how thoroughly he came to your defense. "I'd really, really like that."

Glancing over, Homelander offers your parents one last tight, venomous little smile. "Merry Christmas, you miserable fucks."

Which is exactly how he signs every single Christmas card he maliciously sends your parents each year from that day forward.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fear Of The Known

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

|Chapter Six|

In a near desperate attempt to forget about everything plaguing Y/n's mind, she took up learning portals from Michael. Which might not have been the best idea, considering he's still learning himself. While he could teleport himself anywhere with ease, creating a portal to another world was something entirely different.

And it took a lot of hard work and patience to perfect it. And Michael, well...He was trying his best.

But Y/n couldn't work up the nerve to ask Galim to teach her. She was always so tense around them, despite Galim being one of the kindest angels in Heaven. Michael just made her feel more at ease.

"I can't believe you've existed since the dawn of creation and yet you haven't learned how to make a portal." Y/n teases, trying to lighten the mood. Michael rolls his eyes. "Give me a break, I told you I'm better at fighting than magic. Trust me, you haven't been around as long as I have. My youth was full of many failed magic attempts."

"Aw, baby Michael." Y/n giggled at the thought of a child size Michael, causing him to blush slightly. "Anyway." Michael clears his throat. "Just repeat after me."

Michael stands straight and holds out his hands. Y/n did the same, she then inhaled and exhaled in a calm pattern. "Good. Now just clear your mind, and focus on where you want to be."

Y/n closed her eyes and tried to clearly picture what she saw last time. A wide open meadow, filled with flowers. The sound of the birds and running water. The warmth of the sun in the bright blue sky.

Nothing happened, so she inhaled deeply and tried to remember more of what she saw, what she heard, what she smelled. Earth truly was a beautiful place. It's nature was beyond all compare, simple and yet so vast and complex.

There was a small swirl of light forming just before Y/n's open palms. Michael's eyes lit up with excitement, but he refrained from speaking as not to throw her off.

Y/n wondered what night was like on earth. She's heard stories of the stars that littered across the dark blue sky. How they shined and sparkled, they along with the moon, casting just enough calming light in the darkness.

Y/n smiled at the thought, the thought of just how many wonderful things the Earth had to offer.

'Lucifer would have loved it.'

The light grew brighter and larger, and the portal finally opened. Michael's once previous excitement, quickly faded as he saw where this portal lead.

"Y/n..."

Y/n opened her eyes, her mouth fell slightly agape in surprise. Just before her, was the portal she had created. The color was the first thing that caught her eye. Then came the warm air, the uncomfortably warm air. Then there was the sounds of chaos ringing loud in her ears. Y/n swore she felt her heart drop as realization set in.

Y/n froze, unable to think clearly or utter a single word. Michael stepped in front of her and quickly closed the portal. The last thing she saw, was a large building atop of a hill. He turned to Y/n, a look of slight panic in his eyes.

"Y/n...What did you just do?" He asked, though it was obvious. He knew it, but he just couldn't believe it.

Y/n had created a portal to Hell.

"I...I don't..." Y/n muttered.

"How did you do that? You've never even been to Hell! How could you have pictured where to open the portal?" Michael asks, more to himself than to her.

Y/n looked down at her hands, they were shaking. He was right. She's never been to Hell, she's most certainly never pictured it with her own eyes. So how could she have...

"My visions." Y/n looks up at him. "I've seen Hell in my visions."

Michael was hit with the sudden realization. That was right. You had been tasked from God to keep up with Charlotte Morningstar's future, of course you've seen Hell.

"Ok." Michael exhales. "That makes sense I guess. But you...You weren't suppose to open a portal there! You suppose to open it on Earth. What happened?"

"I..." Y/n sighed. "I was thinking about Lucifer. Maybe that's why..."

Michael fell silent, so did she. Even after ten thousand years, mentioning Lucifer was still a sore subject for them both. As much as they like to think they've moved on, they never truly will. Or have...

"Well...No more of that." Michael tells her with a sigh. "Here I was worried something might happen to you on Earth. Then you go and open a portal to Hell of all places." He laughs weakly.

Y/n turns away from him. "It won't happen again. I'm sorry."

"It's fine Y/n. But yeah...I think it's best if you don't do that again." Said Michael. "I think that's enough portals for one day..."

Six months had passed, and it was finally time for Charlotte Morningstar's arrival. Y/n had informed Sera of this months in advance. She was still furious with Sera, but she could do nothing but do her duty and warn her of this very day.

Sera had little to say to Y/n, so the two parted with a brief exchange and barely spoke to each other since. Not that Y/n had anything to say to Sera, after learning about the exterminations.

Emily of course noticed, but Y/n simply told her that she and Sera were much too busy to really see each other. It did little to ease Emily's concerns, but thankfully she didn't push for a further explanation.

Y/n knew what would come from this meeting anyhow. Charlotte Morningstar would make a case that sinners could be redeemed. However, try as she may, Heaven would not be convinced. She would have not choice but to return to Hell, where she must prepare for Adam's attack.

During that meeting however, Emily found out about the exterminations. That certainly cleared things up about Y/n and Sera, but now she was left heartbroken and betrayed. She knew it was wrong, but what could she do? Despite being a Seraphim herself, she did not hold as much power as Sera.

Sera tried to put her at ease, insisting she handle things from here. But Emily could not ignore what was going on anymore...

She wasn't the only one who now knew of the exterminations. By now, everyone was aware of what she had been doing in secret. Everyone except for the civilians of Heaven, of course. And in due time, God would know as well.

Y/n was half expecting God to call for her, to see what the results of these exterminations had caused. However, there was nothing. Y/n even tried to reach out for Michael, but even he was unavailable.

It turns out, God and his angels were discussing the extermination along with Charlotte Morningstar's plans for redemption privately.

Y/n couldn't explain it, but she had a sinking feeling in her gut. So much has happened so quickly. And now God was involved. She could always look into the future for some closure.

And yet something held her back from doing so. Her nerves, her anxiety, or, it might have been fear. Fear, not of the unknown, but of what would become known.

A part of her didn't need to see the future to know that the results of this would be catastrophic. Y/n had seen it before, the possibility of Sera's punishment was becoming more set in reality now.

Y/n wanted to be more rational about this. Sera hid something this big from God for so long. Of course she would be punished for it. That is simply the consequence she must face. But Y/n did hate it for her. Sera might have had good intentions, but the way she went about it was wrong.

All of this was starting to become overwhelming. Y/n was unable to sleep because of her racing mind. The one relief she got from this, was that Adam and Lute could no longer threaten her now that everyone knew. But it did little to put her at ease.

Y/n sat up in her bed and stared down at her hands. She was avoiding the future for far too long now. She had to look. Really, she had no choice. One way or another, someone will ask her to see what comes next. And so, she closed her eyes and looked into the future.

This time, she was seeing through her own eyes. And all she could see was red. The same red, the same heat, the same sounds all that came from that portal she made months ago. And as she looked up, breaking the scarlet sky, was the gateway to Heaven opening up and down through came two angels.

A knocking caused Y/n to open her eyes, loosing the vision. She blinked a few times before the knocking was heard again. She got up from her bed, still in a state of confusion as she was making her way to the door.

She was in Hell. Why was she in Hell? What possible reason would there be for her to be down there? And who were the two angels coming down from Heaven?

Y/n reached the door and opened it. Standing before her was Michael, and he looked exhausted.

"Michael? What are you doing here so late?" She asks.

Michael tried to offer a smile as he spoke. "You got a minute to talk?"

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