#until act 3 when the gloves came off

[ryuichifoxe]

The energy I'm hoping to bring to the Crow/Crow table ngl

[pepperyduck]

“oral report” with keigo takami

this is part seven!! of my kinktober event :3

word count: 1.8k

warnings: nsfw, oral, cunnilingus, first time oral. (18+ mdni)

notes: going to write so much angst when i get done w these…

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

keigo takami, better known as the pro-hero hawks, had stunned the world when he announced that he was now dating you, and up-and-coming hero new to the big city scene. at the time, you had only made a few, yet impactful, public scenes; only recognized as one of hawks’ sidekicks. your relationship was raged over, how inappropriate it was for him to date someone that worked for him. keigo had decided all the ones who hated were more jealous than anything, and he was right.

of course, dating hawks had it’s own up and downs, but there was no question that keigo was the most devoted lover you had been with. no matter how busy, he always made sure to keep up with you, to check on you. lavish date nights were every weekend, friday night at 8 o’clock. the world didn’t need him for the few hours he was with you. flowers sat on your desk each morning, along with your favorite coffee order and something to eat. jealousy is normal for things like this, especially when it comes to one of the most recognizable faces in japan.

something else the world was completely engrossed in and jealous over?

your sex lives.

there was no doubt about it, keigo was an absolute prodigy in bed. he was a mind altering experience in the sheets. and although he came off cocky and self-absorbed, there was nothing that got keigo off more than your pleasure. he could just tell you hadn’t been with anyone as good as him, and your body language with him boosted his ego enough by itself. but when you couldn’t help but spew how amazing he made you feel, that pushed him over the edge more than anything. maybe it was all selfish in the end.

however, keigo never understood your hesitation to let him give you oral. he let you go down on him, more than he’d like to admit, but he had never gotten the chance to reciprocate that pleasure. and there was nothing on this earth keigo takami loved more than eating pussy. when he was younger and whored around more, it was his favorite thing to do to all the girls he slept with. and he wanted to eat you, so bad he could taste it.

he asked repeatedly for months, and you always said you didn’t like it, that it was uncomfy for you. but really, you’d never even had your pussy eaten, and you only didn’t want to because you didn’t want to be judged. your taste, whether or not keigo would like it, was all you worried about. keigo didn’t bother with it anymore.

that was, until he had one particularly fucked day when you were off. you hadn’t heard from him all day, but you had taken the day to take care of yourself, even having time to take an everything shower. you felt fresh and pristine awaiting your boyfriend’s arrival in his apartment, in the soft robe he kept for you at his place. your hero stumbled through the doors dramatically, eyes locking on you in an instant.

“hi, baby!” you chirp from the expensive couch, leisurely sitting with your legs crossed, phone open with some thread talking about your boyfriend. he stomps over to you, throwing his gloves off and pushing his glasses up on his head. by the way he’s acting, it’s obvious to you he had a rough day. before you can even offer him anything to relax, though, he’s dropping to his knees in front of you, wings lazily spread out to block most of your vision.

“i want to eat you out, baby. please,” keigo begs, pawing at your thighs and the robe that covered them. his request makes you tense up for a moment, you were used to fucking some nights when he’d walk through the door, or even give him head, but never this.

“why don’t i do something to make you feel better?” you suggest, leaning down to catch your boyfriend’s lips in a quick kiss. surprisingly, he shakes his head no, only continuing to feel his way around your legs.

“no, i wanna taste you.”

you move back on the couch, disconnecting your legs from his hands. keigo can tell you’re nervous, unsure about such an intimate act, but right now, he’d do anything just to get his tongue on the sweetness in between your legs.

“what if...i taste bad? what if you don’t like it?” you question, trying to stall and convince him that maybe he doesn’t actually want to eat you out—but there’s a fire in the back of his eyes that says he’d determined. he won’t go anywhere until he gets what he wants.

“trust me,” keigo begins, grabbing your hand to kiss the back of it, “i’m gonna love it, no matter what,” and he drops his head to rest it on your thigh, “and you will, too. please, let me.”

needless to say, you couldn’t say no to your boyfriend anymore. not when, within record time, he had you sprawled out on his huge bed, kissing your body as he works his way down to the place he’d wanted a taste of, forever. his wings shudder when he gets in between your thighs, able to smell the arousal off of you, off of your sweet pussy he’d wanted to have like this. you yelp when he kisses over the fabric of your panties, sloppily trailing his lips and tongue all over the slit hidden by cheap cotton.

“what did you do today?” keigo asks, leaning back for only a second to pull off the pesky garment separating you from his mouth.

“u—um,” you mutter, going silent when he hungrily spreads your thighs open, looking at your folds like he hadn’t seen food in 10 years.

“tell me,” he softly demands, looking up at you with those gorgeous golden eyes—you melt. he kisses up the sensitive flesh, outright teasing you until you begin to speak.

“um, i—i woke up, at like, 9:30,” you slowly begin, labored breaths puffing out of your lungs.

“yeah?” mwah, “what else?”

it’s sick the way he enjoys seeing you so ravished and nervous, all over a little pussy eating. but he’d be lying to himself if he said it was easy to hold back right now. keigo can see that you’re dripping arousal at the compromised situation, and how desperate you are for a little contact—even if it’s something you were inexperienced with.

“and then, i made breakfast—keigo—,” you whisper his name as his tongue comes to swipe, just once, over your sensitive bundle of nerves. it sends shockwaves down your spine from how sensitive and aroused you are—it’s intoxicating, and you want more.

“what’d you have, pretty?” his voice is teasing, and his head rests upon your inner thigh again, waiting for you to answer him.

“i made—mm,” a light moan bubbles from your throat when his tongue swipes again, “a smoothie, and—and eggs,” your words draw themselves out, shaky and slow, as you fight the urge to shut your thighs around keigo’s head. his tongue traces tight small circles right on the tip of your clit—tender and attentively—he knows how much better it feels to start off slow, tame.

keigo threatens to stop his movements, slowly pulling away from you. it’s a game to him, really, to see how much you can take before you’ll never want it to end. and to think you were so scared about it—but keigo’s getting off on it more than you. shakily sighing, you swallow and continue speaking.

“then, i cleaned—i cleaned my apartment, some.”

keigo could laugh at your stammering, but instead decides to indulge you more. he lays his tongue flat and wriggles side to side, covering the upper half on your cunt entirely, before taking a long lick up. your legs shiver, his wings perk up, he notices the reaction and whimper you give and he does it again, and again. you squeeze your eyes shut, getting lost in how heavenly it feels, but keigo stops, shattering your pleasured trance. you whine.

“after that, i came over here,” you pause for a second when keigo’s tongue begins to lap at you again, “and—baby,” you whimper out for him again, dragging out the ‘y’ and lulling your head to the side, “cleaned here, too.”

“how sweet,” keigo coos, pulling back entirely from your cunt, “trying to keep my apartment nice to come home to, hm?”

“mm—mhmm!” you hum, the simple sound stuttering out as keigo dips his tongue down into your sopping hole, fucking you with his tongue. his nose nudges against your clit at the same time, warm muscle constricting inside of you, sending stars into your vision. “then i—showered, and shaved—,” you’re trying so hard to not let the pleasure overcome you. keigo can tell. he’s too good at this type of thing.

your thighs mindlessly spread wider, inviting keigo in even more. your hips stutter and barely grind on his face. the little stubble he keeps is rightfully soaked now, dripping with the arousal he conjured up so easily. you can feel his tongue all over you, lapping up and down your wet folds, paying extra attention when he gets to around your clit. he flicks and circles the bud and wraps his lips around it to suck lightly.

sweaty fingers of yours thread through his hair, knocking his glasses off, you’re pushing his head into you because it’s all so good. keigo’s wings stutter and move around a little, finding pleasure in the way you’re pulling his hair, the way you’re now grinding all over his face, losing yourself in the feeling. and losing yourself you are, as that knot grows in your abdomen towards your release.

“keigo,” you moan, so sultry and like you hadn’t ever before, “i’m gonna cum!” your voice is slutty, needy, and your boyfriend can’t get enough of it.

keigo hums something, muffled by your cunt, the vibrations sending a shock through your core. you mewl out a choked moan, loud, and it lets keigo know to not stop, keep going to get you there. he continues to mumble words into your cunt, sliding his mouth and nose all through your folds, shaking his head side to side vigorously to literally drown in the pussy. yours is the only one he’d drown in, of course.

with a nasty moan, you topple over the edge, it’s almost too much for you. your orgasm is intense, toes curling and hips stuttering, trying so hard to ride yourself through it. keigo takes a few more long licks through your folds, stopping when your thighs begin to shake from the overstimulation. he draws his head back from your cunt, a long string of arousal connecting to his chin, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face. cocky bastard.

“see, told you i’d like it.”

[ardensregias]

somnophilia (with or without consent you choose) with aventurine or sunday...

alright 👍🏻 i'm going with aventurine for this one, since his banner is tmrw yippee :3 may all avennie wanters become avennie havers ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

nsfw, consensual somnophilia, afab!reader, reader wears nightgown, fingering, spooning fucking (i have no idea what it's called (u_u)), established relationship, petnames used: darling, baby, sweetheart, little bunny.

"...my love?"

rubbing his tired eyes to prevent them from closing, aventurine enters your shared house together—only to find you asleep on the couch, filling the otherwise quiet living room with the soft rumble of your snores.

his lips slowly curl up to form a faint smile, little hearts dancing across his beautiful pupils as he steps closer to you, getting a good look at the way the silk gown highlights your curves—all the stress he accumulated from working instantly disappears into thin air the moment he came home to this, like something served only for him in a silver platter.

"you'll catch a cold..." he sighs, stepping closer to take you back inside your shared bedroom—while his eyes gawk at your body, glancing at your chest and legs, before he looks away and try not to act on his desire; you have said that it is fine for him to relief his stress by using you, even in an unconscious state—still, he'd rather not disturb your beauty sleep. slowly, he places you down on to the mattress and kissed your forehead, wishing you a good night's sleep before he stood up, attempting to leave and change his clothes first.

that is, until you decided to roll over, causing your dress to hikes up your thighs, revealing the skimpy and lacy panties underneath—aeons, how could you possibly be any more alluring? he wouldn't be able to hold back himself if this persists.

aventurine gently pushes the silky fabric further up, finally caving in, "'m sorry..." he murmurs, his gloved fingers slowly making their way inside your puffy folds, stimulating the sensitive nerves and getting surprised when he hears the squelching noises, already so loud when he barely does anything—he's starting to suspect that you may have been thinking of him a lot... probably not in an innocent way too (neither did he).

"are you dreaming of me, baby?" his lips curl up to form a small smirk, pumping his digits in and out of you faster, drawing out that little whines of yours that he loves so much, taking them as a sign to continue. he knew very well how skilled his fingers are, after all.

and continue, he did—laying down right behind you, slotting his erection between your thighs as the blunt head slowly slides into your tight little pussy, sucking him in so nicely as if this is the last time you can feel it. you're still so responsive, he thinks, groaning whenever you unconsciously push your ass against him, meeting his thrust while also arching your back.

the blond man tries to be as quiet as possible, burying his face into your nape and trailing kisses down your back with his arms settled on your hips to help him reach deeper and deeper, until his tip finally touches that one gummy spot—one that always makes you moan louder and beg him for more.

"fuck—i'm gonna cum, darling... ah—you're always so good for me..." he stammers, hips stuttering as the slapping noises intensifies, bouncing off the walls along with your soft mewls and his ragged breath.

it doesn't take long before the knot in your stomach snaps, your walls pulsating around his dick before he soon follows, stuffing you full with hot and sticky ropes of cum—so full that some of it form a ring around the base when he attempts to pull out. it surprises him to see just how pent-up he's been, but a sudden whimper from you brought snap him back to reality.

"'venturine... more, please..." for a moment, he was stunned—are you awake? or are you simply dreaming of doing this with him? the thought of being in your mind 24/7 easily flusters him, making his still-erect cock twitch inside you.

well, as a good boyfriend, what else can he do except to fulfill his little bunny's wishes?

his thumb finds its way back to your swollen nub, rubbing patterns across the sensitive area before he shoves his shaft back in, "as you wish, sweetheart,"

[junicult]

!! the bachelors as fathers

contains ; sfw! sooo much fluff. fem!farmer. unnamed child. established relationships — marriage. your child is implied to be around kindergarten age. men that are good w kids hehehe. not proofread / slightly rushed in some parts. i’ll edit it later LOL.

note ; i get asks on this topic at least twice a week. i’m finally caving. here’s my birthday gift to you <3

harvey.

- he was honestly made to be a father.

- despite his taller stature, there was something about him that felt so comforting.

- if a child had walked up to him all alone, sobbing with snot down their nose, he didn’t hesitate to kneel and help them find their parent.

- soothing them, grabbing their hand and asking questions to calm them down.

- no, it wasn’t a daily occurrence but it’s definitely happened to him a couple times. and each and every time he was able to help them relax, and easily reunited them with whomever their guardian was.

- he’s good with kids. always has been.

- he probably even had a babysitting job every now and then when he was younger.

- there’s was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to have his own when he grew up. and when you just so happened to stumble into his life, marrying him with the same ideals…well.

- you obviously knew he wanted kids before you got married.

- and when you realized you wanted him to be the father of your child; was another one of those instances where you got to see just how good he was with them.

- hearing how sweet he’s always been to vincent during his doctor visits, especially when the boy was younger.

- he’s a girl dad. say what you will, but he is.

- he’ll sit at the unbelievably tiny table, cramped in the tiny chair with his knees up to his chest while he tips back the empty teacup and his pinky in the air.

- he’ll even wear the tiara.

- zero complaints.

- you and his daughter would literally be the most important things in the entire world to him. he’d do anything for you two.

- like…ugh. oh my god.

- sometimes you’d come home late, and you’d walk down the hall to hear his gentle voice animatedly in your daughters dark bedroom.

- and you’d peek in, and there he was sitting at the end of her bed, quietly reading while she sleepily listens all tucked in.

- or even times when you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, confused.

- so you’d walk out to go find him, having no clue where the hell he was so you check your daughters bedroom,

- and well, there he is. long ass limbs tucked and haphazardly strewn about to make room for your daughter who lays next to him sleeping peacefully in her toddler bed.

- he’s not asleep (obviously), but he lays with his eyes closed until you gently creak the floorboard.

- “she had a nightmare.” is all he says, and it’s enough to make you smile.

- even though he’s already so health conscious…it only grows after you have a child.

- “did you brush your teeth? make sure to get the gums.” “a balanced breakfast is the perfect way to start the day!” he sounds like a elementary classroom poster.

- the minute someone in the house sniffles…he’s checking everyone’s temperature.

- during the winter, he’s at the door wrapping your daughter in multiple puffy coats, scarves, earmuffs, gloves, before letting her step outside.

- you’re not off the hook either, but you never bundle up the way he wishes you would.

- “why doesn’t mommy have to wear this?” she pouts while he’s helping her in her thick boots.

- “why don’t you ask her that?😊” (he’s instigating.)

- i’m telling you, girl dad.

sam.

- his own kids weren’t on his radar when you guys first started dating.

- but he’s always liked them. especially when vincent was born.

- he was that lowkey irresponsible but very responsible older brother.

- like, he’d be in his teens telling his very impressionable younger brother to say bad words and then would act shocked when he got in trouble for saying them.

- but when it came to being the oldest man in the house while their dad was away, he really showed maturity in helping jodi and being there for them.

- and while you both established a committed relationship, that one day you’d want to be married and have kids—he idealized it a bit more.

- but then again, it was still one of those things you both needed to really think and talk about before you even acted on it, especially since you got married young.

- lol i feel like jodi or marnie forced u guys to watch jas and vincent for a weekend once.

- and after how well it went, that was kinda when it clicked that you guys were ready.

- he’s both a girl dad and a boy dad.

- he’d literally jump for joy for either outcomes. he was just excited to finally be a dad after years of daydreaming of it.

- as much as i don’t wanna say it, i still feel like he’d be much better at the fun stuff then the parenting stuff.

- i just think it’s bc he thinks with his heart more then his head, and when his child is sad and pouting, he’s too sympathetic to hold his ground.

- he wouldn’t leave it all for you to do, but he’d definitely be worse at scolding if you aren’t by his side.

- like, she colored all over the walls or something. his initial reaction would be to freak out and find a way to clean it before you’d find out (he doesn’t wanna add more work to your busy day), but then he’d scold.

- “no, don’t do that. wall, bad. paper, good. understand? nod if you understand,” …well he’s trying.

- then you’d come home to see him scrubbing the walls while your child blissfully doodles in her coloring book on the floor beside him.

- if he had a son, he’d have a little bit of practice from those few years where he babysat vince.

- lol, there’s a lot of features your son would inherit between the two of you.

- but personality wise…your son is definitely a mini-sam.

- and imagine one day, it’s the early stages of spring so sam’s typical allergies start to act up.

- you’ve always known how to handle him when he gets really sick. but picture your red-nosed, leaky-eyed husband standing behind you while you rummage through the medicine cabinet,

- and all of a sudden you hear a familiar sniffle from down the hall.

- you just freeze, slowly turning to face sam who’s making the same face that you are. until he starts to laugh.

- yeah. so now here you are, both of your boys snuggled in bed with the same sickly look, mumbling about how grateful they are that you’re there to care for them.

- and here’s the thing. if your son is sam’s mini-me…then i can assure you you’re stuck with two of the clingiest boys by your side.

shane.

- he never really thought he’d get a loving, happy family of his own.

- but he definitely daydreamed of it in times when he really just wanted an escape.

- he was always the best with jas.

- he doesn’t necessarily treat her like his daughter. but it’s not like she gives him any reason to.

- he doesn’t treat her like a child, per say. just kind of like another person. probably bc of their trauma bond lol

- he cares for her like an older brother cares for his little sister.

- so even though he has jas in his life, someone he cares for so strongly, he still doesn’t think of himself as being a good father.

- when he met you though, and you were so reassuring and sweet, that thought definitely changed.

- it went from him seeing a life alone, to pondering a family of his own.

- when he finally had the motivation to clean himself up, it approached a couple years since he’s been sober and it was definitely in the forefront of his mind to start a family with you.

- i also think of him as a girl dad. i can’t picture him as a boy dad at all not even gonna lie 😭

- like he’d be the kind of dad that would dress as the supporting character in your daughter’s favorite movie for halloween (spirits eve wtvr)

- also the kind of dad that’d join in on tea parties as well, just with the most plain look on his face despite him not minding being there.

- also…let me tell you there would be a whole inside joke swear jar thing in ur house.

- when your daughter was old enough to decipher what words were “good” and “bad,” the swear jar became very important.

- i think it started when you were pregnant.

- “ah fuck, i think i cooked this wrong. damnit.” he’d mumble.

- “we should probably stop saying those before the baby comes.” you hum, and he looks at you all confused.

- “saying what?” bc they’re in his daily vocabulary to the point where he forgets they’re “inappropriate.”

- so there came the swear jar. and every now and then it’d be a little inside joke when he swore, you’d look at him like, “drop a dollar in the jar😁”

- and when you’d say one, he was so petty matching your exact tone and smile.

- your daughter just grew up with it. it became an even bigger inside joke when you were all sitting at the kitchen table one night, he leans in to take a bite of food and, “shit! that’s hot.”

- before you even said anything your daughter smiles exactly like you would, “that’s a dollar in the swear jar, daddy.”

- ur both STUNNED. and also very proud in a sense.

- you just burst out laughing while he tries to think of a counter, but really, he’s too amused to even say anything back (thus drops a dollar in the jar!)

- 😓😓he’d be the sweetest when it came to his daughter all sad about something.

- no matter what it was. even if she as much as scrapes her knee, he would be so affectionate.

- he’s not the “walk it off” kind of dad.

- if she came to him sobbing, he’d immediately calm her down by picking her up and propping her on the couch, searching for the stuff you use for wounds in the cabinets.

- “it’s okay, you’re okay. it was just a little scrape, you won’t even feel it tomorrow.”

- and he’s wiping her tears, pressing a kiss to her forehead before going into the freezer and getting her ice cream (before dinner😨) saying, “don’t tell mommy, okay?”

- although you try finish up work early enough to tuck your daughter in bed, sometimes you end up running late.

- so uh…shane sometimes forgets to put her to bed, and of course she’s not gonna say anything!!! bedtime is a child’s worst nightmare!

- and usually when that happens, you’d end up coming home to the sight of the two of them, knocked out sharing the same blanket on the couch, cuddled up together while the tv’s still on.

- and when that happens, well, you find it a little hard to take that sight away.

sebastian.

- girl dad. sorry i just had to start with it.

- maybe i could see him with a son, but honestly…no i can’t.

- but i’m not gonna lie to you,

- for a while i feel like he didn’t want kids. not really at least.

- he’d think about them and it was always a nice idea, until he really thought about it and all the mess that babies come with lol.

- plus at the point in his life when you two met, he just wasn’t ready. for a while at least.

- when you talked about it, the topic of children was only on the table. you knew you wanted them, just not yet.

- it took a good handful of years before you actively started trying.

- even though he was prepared during your pregnancy, i feel like it didn’t hit him he was a father until after ur baby was born.

- he fell in love. swear.

- like…that tiny, wrinkly little lump was his. he helped make that. and not only was it his but it was also the woman he loves’.

- it took him a while to get into the system of it all when it came to caring for the baby. i’m talking changing diapers, feeding, burping, things like that.

- but when he was left alone with her, he was kinda in his own little world. he could hold her all day and never get tired.

- and that was a concept so crazy to him bc he didn’t get that kind of love from a father growing up.

- which is exactly why i feel like he’d actually be such a great dad.

- he could be stern when he needed to be, but never strict.

- “eat your greens,” kinda dad LMAO. especially if you were the one to make them.

- when she’d come up to him with the messiest doodle of your little family on a piece of paper, he’d think of it as a masterpiece.

- he’s not very expressive tho LOL like he’d look at the drawing and only smile, a little “thank you,” in a sweet tone.

- that’s just how he is lol. on the inside he’s sobbing.

- it would always end up on the fridge.

- he spends a lot of time at home.

- which results in a lot of time he spends with your daughter, even while he’s doing his own thing on his computer working.

- but nearly every day he was greeted with a, “daddy, can we go somewhere? what’s mommy doing?” and depending on where you were, he’d help get her shoes on and take her out on a walk to go find you.

- she got her outdoorsy side from you, that’s for sure. but because she needs a guardian, he’s gotten much more used to being outside.

- it was often you’d be working on your crops outside, wiping sweat from your forehead & turn around to your daughter eagerly wanting to help.

- now, this is not to say that your relationship w sebastian was poor before you had your daughter, i’m not saying that at all,

- but because of her adventurous personality, and clinginess to the both of you—your bond grew even more.

- “she wanted to see you.” he’d sheepishly smile, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead while you both turn and watch her feed the chickens.

- “didn’t you have that website to finish?”

- “…okay i wanted to see you too.”

alex.

- absolutely wanted a family. holy shit there’s zero doubt in my mind.

- he’s kinda wanted a more traditional household, probably based on the ideals he grew up with.

- but he absolutely didn’t mind you being the breadwinner. he honestly enjoyed it much more.

- he’d spend hours daydreaming about living on the farm with you. carrying one child on his shoulders and holding the other’s hand while guiding them around the town’s fair.

- and lowkey, i feel like one of his favorite topics of conversation was discussing how your children would be raised lol

- talking in bed at night like, “i think our son would be a gridball fan. maybe even grow up to be a player himself.” while he sighs longingly.

- which also ties into me believe he’s a boy dad. you know he is.

- i definitely feel like he’d have a boy and a girl. it’s his dream.

- he’d be fine with two boys or two girls but when he daydreamed about his future, it was always you, your son & your daughter.

- it’s just once again the traditional picture of a household and even though i don’t really think he’s that old fashioned after he met you, i still believe he’d want 2 kids.

- he would seriously daydream it all the time. the months of your pregnancy, when you found out it was a boy he really saw his future fitting like a puzzle piece.

- after a couple years, your son (who may i add was literally his mini-me) got a bit older, you both discussed it was time for another.

- and when you found out it was a girl…god. i definitely think he cried, disagree all you want.

- he’s such a caring dad. i believe he wants the best for his children, and he knows what it was like to be neglected so i can never imagine him being like that.

- first of all, you already know every single day of the summer he’s bringing them down to the beach.

- packing a bag, (that takes him halfway through the day before he realized he forgot towels) propping up beach chairs & an umbrella for shade.

- he’s never opposed to a good sand castle. especially when he remembers to bring the little molds that help with the foundation.

- kneels in the shallow end, standing close to his kids when they want to swim.

- and he’s always a fan of recapping it with you at the end of the day.

- “tell mommy what you found at the beach,” he ushers, bouncing your daughter on his hip while your son eagerly begins.

- i feel like after having children, not only is he a good dad, but he becomes an even better husband to you.

- he just loves how hard you work for him and your family, so you can bet on mother’s day, or your birthday, he’ll be all about making it special for you.

- all of them wake up earlier then you, making breakfast (well, watching him make breakfast) before they put it all on a plate and deliver it to you in bed.

- ur the kind of parents that other parents are jealous of, y’know?

- he’s just so in love with you, and the kids you made. it makes him love you even more.

elliott.

- he’s always wanted kids. he would find himself daydreaming, even when he was in his early twenties, about one day raising a child with the person he loves.

- when he met you was the start of his writing career.

- at that point, it was a little underwhelming, which was the perfect opportunity to get start a relationship with you.

- you were both fairly busy, but the thing about his job was he could lounge in your cottage while you were off working,

- and when you were able to spare a few minutes, you could stop in and see him.

- while your relationship progressed, you began the discussion of getting married and having children one day.

- it just so happened to be right when his career was taking off when you finally settled into your lives together.

- which postponed trying for a little while, but eventually you were able to.

- lol, i’m gonna say it;

- without a DOUBT a girl dad.

- oh my god he would daydream of having a little you running around, tuft red hair with your sweet smile.

- and with how melodramatic he is, imagine that projected onto your daughter LMAO.

- if you couldn’t find him in his typical writing room sometimes, all u had to do was walk to your daughters room where he propped up his own little desk.

- just so he could be near her.

- he also is just entranced at all times, he loves holding her, just looking at her.

- he’s extremely helpful.

- for the most part, he was always immediate to react if your newborn needed something. the second she’s cry, he was up on his feet telling you to stay put.

- he’s just very understanding with how busy you are, and he never minded spending more time with his daughter.

- if it was the middle of the night, and she needed something, he’d always shake his head to you pushing off your blankets, whispering, “i got it, my love. go back to sleep, i’m sure she’s fine.”

- especially on days where he knows you’re particularly stressed, he’s not letting you lift a finger.

- anyways, it carried on when your daughter got older, too.

- she’d walk in all, “mommy, i threw up,” & he was on his feet to help before you even registered what happened.

- he’s just always been fantastic help.

- one of his favorite things to do is read to her.

- similar to harvey, except ten times more.

- he’s acting out each part, using different voices for different characters, making a grand show of it all just to hear his daughter giggle.

- it’s become a habit every night, and since you’re typically busy most evenings, it’s often you’ll come in to find him mid-storytelling.

- even if you intend on reading to her, you always end up stopping to let him finish. he’s so entertaining with it that even you’re interested in this plot line for 2 year olds.

- he’ll never skip this routine.

- and when he kisses her goodnight, he tucks her in, pushes her hair from her forehead and bends down to plant a soft kiss.

- “goodnight, sweetheart. sweet dreams.” he always says.

- he’s gentle with you, he’s even gentler with her.

[deliciousangelfestival]

bucky barned x depressed reader?!!!!!! ☕️🍪

Of course dear. This request is a perfect match for this continuation. I hope you like it.

Only The Lonely - Rain and Umbrella

Summary: After being saved by Bucky and freed from the debt collectors, you finally managed to get a job with normal working hours. You thought you’d lost your late-night train buddy, but Bucky still visits your place whenever he can.

Everything seemed fine—until you ran into someone from your past. Suddenly, all the feelings you had been holding back came flooding out.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy, Slice Of Life

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way I publish my book Arrogant Ex Husband in Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Giving what you can, even when you don’t have much, makes you the richest person,” your grandfather would always say. On his birthday, instead of celebrating, he spent the day handing out free food to the homeless. It was his way of teaching you that kindness ripples back in unexpected ways.

That lesson became your compass, even when life pushed you into the shadows. For three long years, you had been hiding—avoiding the gang that chased you, ducking into smaller, quieter corners of existence. Yet, even when you struggled, you gave. Like the day you paid for a mother’s milk at the store with the last of your cash, and somehow, you landed a cashier job at a car workshop that very evening.

And now, giving extra food—a small, unthinking act of kindness—had saved your life. Who would have thought your train buddy was capable of something like this?

After Bucky untied you from the ropes, you stumbled forward, your muscles sore and stiff. His strong hands caught your arm and steadied you without a word. The cold air outside the warehouse hit you hard, but you welcomed it—it was freedom. Around you, the gang members lay crumpled—some groaning, others fainted in various awkward positions.

You turned to Bucky, your breath visible in the freezing air. “How… how can I repay this?” you stammered, still processing everything.

Bucky looked around at the chaos, then back at you, expression unreadable. “You’ve already paid me.”

“What?” you whispered, confused.

He raised a gloved hand and pointed. “Monkey bread—for him,” he said, nodding toward a man sprawled against a crate.

Your eyes widened.

“Beef Wellington,” he continued, motioning to another unconscious man slumped against the hood of a car.

“And Fish and Chips—for him,” Bucky finished, nodding toward a guy dangling limply from a chain.

You blinked, processing his words. Then it hit you—your cooking. That’s what this was about. “Wait… you mean the meals I gave you at the shelter?” you asked incredulously.

Bucky didn’t respond, but the faintest flicker of amusement passed through his blue eyes.

The surreal realization was too much; you let out a soft, shaky laugh, half disbelieving. “So… that’s what you were doing when the lights went out?”

Bucky didn’t answer. Instead, he shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. You flinched at the weight of it, stunned at the unexpected warmth—both from the jacket and from him.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly, his voice as gentle as the night air.

Since that night, something shifted between you and Bucky. The quiet man who barely spoke a word became a constant presence in your life. You didn’t know how he’d taken down the gang—single-handedly, no less—but he had ended the nightmare that stole your freedom.

Days passed, and slowly, you found pieces of your old life returning. The hotel manager—the one you used to gossip about with Bucky—tracked you down one afternoon. When he saw you, his expression softened, his tone low and warm.

“Life’s been hard on you,” he said, a quiet statement that felt like a hand on your shoulder.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight as you struggled to hold back tears.

He offered you a lifeline: “I have a friend who owns a small café. They’re looking for a barista. I know you’re good with coffee—you’re overqualified, honestly.”

Your breath hitched. A job. A normal job. No more vampire hours. No more hiding.

You smiled weakly, trying to speak past the lump in your throat. “Thank you,” you whispered, barely audible.

But relief came with a bittersweet edge. A job with regular hours—9 a.m. to 4 p.m.—meant no more morning train rides with Bucky. Those quiet, unspoken moments had become a comfort, and losing them stung more than you expected.

When Bucky heard you suggest a visit to your café, he didn’t hesitate. “I’ll stop by after I wake up.”

You paused, curiosity tugging at you. “Wait... what time do you usually sleep?”

“Sleep?” Bucky’s voice trailed off, his expression unreadable. Silence followed as he stared off at nothing. For him, sleep wasn’t a comfort. Resting for three long months in a coma had left its mark—it was enough sleep for a lifetime. Being idle, trapped in a body that couldn’t move, was unbearable. The thought of sleep brought back those suffocating memories, and he avoided it whenever he could.

Instead, Bucky spent his nights on late trains. The rhythmic clatter of wheels on tracks calmed him in a way nothing else did. The hum of motion, the gentle swaying, the faint, distant sound of announcements—it was constant, predictable, alive. Trains were his solace. There, in the quiet hum of machinery, Bucky didn’t feel alone.

“Well, aside from that,” you said, snapping him from his thoughts. “Visit my café, and I’ll give you the best sandwich you’ve ever had.” You paused, then remembered his preference. “Oh—come around 2 or 3 p.m. It’s quieter then. Fewer people.”

Bucky nodded, his usual silent agreement. “Alright.”

Since that day, Bucky stopped by your café whenever he could. Most weeks, he visited twice. Your co-workers noticed him immediately, his tall figure and striking demeanor impossible to miss. But none dared to approach him. Bucky had an aura—one that screamed, “Don’t talk to me.”

It had been a few months now, and the rainy season had settled in. One afternoon, the skies opened up. Rain pounded against the café windows, blurring the view outside. Bucky walked in, his clothes slightly damp, as if he’d miscalculated the storm. After finishing his sandwich, he stood to leave, glancing out at the relentless downpour.

“Wait!” You grabbed the bright yellow umbrella sitting near the counter and held it out to him.

Bucky frowned. “Do you have another color?”

You shook your head. “No. Take it.”

He stared at the umbrella, reluctant, almost as if offended by the bright hue. But after a moment, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He took it.

“Bye!” you called as he left, your voice light with amusement.

☕☕☕☕

The next day started like any other. The café was warm and bustling as you worked behind the counter. The hum of the espresso machine, the hiss of steamed milk, and the soft murmur of conversations filled the air. You greeted customers with a smile, moved quickly between orders, and wiped down counters when the rush slowed.

Then you heard your name—spoken softly, yet somehow sharp enough to pierce through the noise.

You looked up, and your stomach dropped. Toby.

Your ex-boyfriend stood there. His face betrayed his shock. “It’s… wow. How? I don’t even know what to say. You’re… you’re here?”

Clearing your throat, you straightened, forcing calm into your voice. “I’m fine. Everything’s been taken care of. What do you want to order?”

Toby blinked, regaining focus. “Just… a regular hot Americano, please.”

“One hot Americano,” you repeated, turning to the machine. He followed your movements, lingering on the other side of the counter.

“You look good,” he said suddenly. His voice was soft, genuine. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

You glanced at him, just for a moment. And then you saw it. The silver ring glinting on his left hand—fourth finger.

Before you could react, a deafening crack of thunder shook the café. Everyone flinched, covering their ears instinctively. Even Toby winced.

“That’s loud,” he muttered, forcing a smile. “I’m glad I brought an umbrella—just in case.”

“Yes,” you replied stiffly, handing him his coffee. “It’s always smart to prepare for the rain.”

Toby paused, his eyes lingering on you longer than they should have. “It’s good to see you,” he said softly. “And knowing you’re okay… it means a lot.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tight. “Goodbye, Toby.”

He left, the café door swinging shut behind him, the bell jangling softly.

The moment he was gone, everything around you felt distant, unreal. You went numb. Your hands moved on their own—wiping counters, refilling the sugar dispenser—but it was like your body was acting without you.

“I need to step out for a bit,” you mumbled to your coworker.

“Under this heavy rain? Are you serious?” she called, but you didn’t hear her. You were already out the door.

The rain hit you instantly, cold and heavy, soaking through your clothes in seconds. You squinted through the downpour, but you could still see him—Toby—his figure fading as he walked farther away.

Your feet hesitated at first, uncertainty freezing you in place. Should you follow him? But then he turned a corner, disappearing from sight, and something inside you broke.

You ran.

The rain blurred everything—your vision, your surroundings—but you didn’t stop. Water sloshed into your shoes, weighing you down, but you pushed forward. Your heart pounded, a warning deep in your chest. And then you saw him again.

He walked into a small gift shop. You slowed, panting, your chest heaving. Through the rain-slicked windows, you saw her—a woman—walking up to Toby with a smile. She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

CRACK. Another thunderclap shook the sky, louder this time. It felt like the thunder was mocking you.

☕☕☕☕

Back at the café, Bucky stepped inside, shaking water from the yellow umbrella you’d given him. His eyes swept the room quickly. “Where is she?” he asked your coworker.

“She went out. Said she needed to chase something. She didn’t take an umbrella or a jacket.”

Bucky didn’t wait to hear more. He turned and ran back into the rain, the yellow umbrella forgotten in his grip.

The rain was relentless. Bucky scanned the streets, his sharp gaze darting from one figure to the next. He moved quickly, following his instincts. Then he saw you.

You were walking slowly now, soaked to the bone, your shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world had settled there.

Bucky approached you quietly, matching your pace. When he reached you, he didn’t say a word. He simply opened the yellow umbrella above your head, shielding you from the rain.

You blinked, startled. The absence of cold raindrops pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked up. Bucky stood beside you, his face calm but unreadable, the umbrella angled to keep you dry.

For a moment, you just stared at him. His blue eyes searched yours, patient, steady—waiting.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough: I’m here.

The rain fell relentlessly, soaking through your clothes, clinging to your skin, but you welcomed it. You wanted the coldness to freeze your thoughts, the heaviness of the downpour to wash away the tears streaming down your cheeks. Maybe, just maybe, the rain could hide how much you were crying. But no amount of cold could numb the ache inside you.

Why did I go after him? you thought bitterly, scolding yourself. Deep down, you knew—you felt—that you shouldn’t have followed him. Your instincts had warned you, whispered that you wouldn’t like what you saw, that you’d be disappointed.

It’s not that you still loved him or had any lingering feelings for him. It was the memories—the life you had before all of this—that you missed. Memories have a cruel way of hurting you, a constant reminder of what’s lost, especially when you know you can’t turn back time or rewrite the past.

The breakup wasn’t filled with anger or betrayal. It had been mutual—an agreement you both made, though it shattered your heart. Toby had been kind, too kind. When the debt collectors started chasing you, hounding your brother’s unpaid loans, Toby had offered to pay it all. But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t his burden to carry.

The debt collectors—the gangsters—ruined everything. They made your life unbearable, calling Toby’s parents, threatening him and anyone close to you. That’s when you decided it was enough. You ended the relationship to protect him, to free him. Then you ran. You moved across the country, hiding, surviving. You cut ties with friends because even they weren’t safe.

And now, seeing him… seeing him happy with someone else…

You pressed a hand to your chest, as if trying to hold the pieces of your heart together. If my brother had never taken that loan… I wouldn’t have to run. I wouldn’t have to hide. I wouldn’t have to live in constant fear.

The years of silent suffering weighed on you, and the truth surfaced: you’d been depressed all this time. You pushed it down, locked it away, told yourself you were fine because you had no choice but to keep going. But right now, in the middle of the rain, all of those feelings clawed their way to the surface.

Then you heard his voice.

“What can I do to help you?” Bucky’s voice was soft yet steady, cutting through the storm like a lifeline.

You froze. The words hit you harder than you expected. You blinked up at him, rainwater still running down your face like invisible tears.

Those words. That was what you wanted to hear. That was what you had needed for so long. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, your arms wrapping tightly around Bucky’s torso.

“Nothing,” you whispered into his chest, your voice shaking. “Just stay.”

The dam broke. Your tears finally came—hot, unrelenting sobs wracking your body. You cried for everything you’d lost, for the years you spent pretending you were okay, for the regrets and burdens you had carried alone.

Bucky stood stiffly at first, his arms slightly raised as if unsure what to do. He was caught off guard. You’d fooled him. He thought you were okay after he’d taken care of the debt collectors—the men who had chased you, terrorized you. He thought his help had freed you. But it hadn’t.

She’s been hiding it, Bucky realized, his jaw tightening. Depressed people were like that—they hid their pain so well that even someone like him couldn’t see it.

Slowly, his arms came down around you, one hand resting lightly on your back, the other shielding your head from the rain. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you as you cried, letting you break down in the safety of his presence.

Bucky brought you back to his place—a small, unassuming apartment that was surprisingly warm. He let you take a hot shower, the steam and heat finally driving the cold from your bones. When you emerged, you were wrapped in one of Bucky’s sweatshirts—soft, oversized, and smelling faintly like leather and soap.

You sat on his couch, knees drawn up, still sniffling quietly. Bucky handed you a small bar of chocolate.

“Mint chocolate?” you asked, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Everyone likes chocolate,” Bucky replied, sitting across from you. He watched you carefully, his gaze softer now.

A long pause settled between you, broken only by the sound of rain tapping on the window. Then Bucky spoke, his tone even, but with an edge of seriousness.

“Do you want me to handle your brother?”

You looked up, confused. “Handle him?”

Bucky’s expression darkened slightly. “He’s the reason you’re living like this. In my line of work, people take responsibility for what they’ve caused. He’s the one responsible. He should pay for it.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “Thank you, but…” You hesitated, staring at your hands. “I’ve been looking for him for the past three years. I can’t find him.”

Bucky leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. His voice was calm but firm. “Don’t worry. I’ll find him.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by the certainty in his words. “Jeez, Bucky… how could I ever repay you for all of this?”

Bucky shrugged, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “The coffee, the sandwiches, and that umbrella are enough.”

You huffed a small, tired laugh, shaking your head. For the first time in years, you felt a little lighter.

Bucky sat back, watching you. He didn’t need to say it, but you understood: you weren’t alone.

Join the taglist 💖💖💖

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@barnesxstan

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

@mrs-maximoff-kenner

@lostinspace33

@read-just-cant

@hzdhrtss

@murnsondock

@hi172826

@globetrotter28

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hate That I Love You

adam x insecure!tsundere(ithink) GNreader

Summary: You’ve been Lutes friend for a long while, and occasionally you ran into Adam; after finding out about the extermination thanks to him, you become a three party group. Except you can’t accept liking Adam, him being obnoxious and egotistical, you pretend you hate him. That blows up in your face.

Warnings: Suggestive, swearing, angst ish, hurt/comfort i think, insecurities around strength (mental and/or physical), implied but never confirmed virgin reader, readers looks get insulted nothing intense nor specific, descriptive panic attack/fainting, reader throws an object at adam’s head, NO YN, GN, No alluding to or mention of bodytype/hairtype/skin colour. oh possibly OOC adam idk, not proofread so sorry luvs, I think that’s it if not let me know! enjoy :3

Word count: 2K

Your index finger sat atop the straw sitting in your drink, moving it around the glass as you mindlessly listened as Adam ranted to you and Lute, mostly Lute, about Charlie Morningstar. You weren’t an exorcist- no, you actually didn’t know about the exterminations at all…up until recently. Thanks to one of Adam’s childish outbursts, you had a long night with Lute explaining the whole situation to you. Now you were sworn to secrecy, and conversations of the madness that the extermination were and everything they came with, AKA Charlie.

Adam wasn’t ever your buddy, he was just someone who shamelessly attached himself to Lute's hip; but you put up with it because of your good friendship with Lute. Now, he’s somehow weaselled his way into believing you were part of this weird “team” purely based off of association.

“I mean who does this long horned, pointy teeth, pussy mucher think she is?!” Adam screamed slamming his hands against the table, you rolled your eyes at him and his stupid antics. “You’re one to talk,” You replied, his eyes snapping toward you. “You’ve got both horns and teeth. Why don’t you take that funky band mask off anyways?”

Scoffing he rolled his neck side to side. “Because this is my job, my persona, how’re people gonna recognize me without it!? Duh, dumb bitch.” Muttering the insult quickly, he leaned his cheek on his palm and went back to sucking his drink.

“With all due respect sir, this is really bad news, we can’t let Charlie persuade Sera.” Lute piped up, her mask discarded showing the genuine emotion on her face. Sometimes you couldn’t tell if he was a friend, someone she was in love with, an annoying brother-like figure, or just her lazy ass boss. Maybe all of the above.

Which is probably one of the reasons you kept your tiny little crush on Adam to yourself. He was cruel to you anyways, always comparing you to someone faster, funnier, stronger, hotter at least that’s what you told yourself. Instead you chose to be more of a bitch back, acting as disgusted and disinterested as you could, especially when Lute was around as she could sniff out a lie like some psychic canine.

“Yeah, duh Lute i fucking know that. You think I've been jerking off this whole time! No, eyes, ears focused, I haven't cum in days.” He whined, throwing his head back. Lute only scoffed glancing over at you slumped back in your seat barely sipping your drink, eyes casted downward. “You don’t have to be here for this kind of talk,” Lute started saying, her hand inching across the table to yours, but she was stopped by Adam once more leaning forward, gloved palms slapping against the table.

“The fuck are you saying Lute!? We get another fucker in this circle and you wanna cast her out. Un-fucking-believeable. It’s like you want Charlie to win.” Throwing a napkin at Adam, Lute slid her hand away from you. “They’re not even an exorcist Adam, you’re the fuck head who got them in on exterminations!”

“No i didn’t, they walked in on a private conversation.” Eyebrows knitted together you lurched forward, anger fueling you. “Oh piss off Adam, how many times are we gonna go over this stupid situation! I’m not your fucking friend, i’m not ‘in’ on it, i’m here for Lute and you won’t fucking leave!”

Adam had a bored expression on his face while you ranted, unfazed by anything you’d said. Lute however bit her lip clasping her hands together. In a fight between her boss slash friend, and her friend, she didn’t know what to do. “You always have your nose up in Lute's business, it’s so annoying. Lute’s my man, okay she works for me! Guess who comes first in this business chica? Not you.” Adam mocked sticking his tongue out at you.

Standing you picked up your cup whipping it at Adam’s head, he dodge it easily, but your emotionally fueled violence made you quickly regretful as both Adam’s and Lutes eyes looked at you questioningly. You’d never really lost your shit before, and this wasn’t the worst Adam has said, so they were a little confused at your outburst, yourself included.

“Listen, Adam, I’m-“ Before you could finish Adam keeled over, laughing maniacally as you watched. After a few short laughter filled moments, Adam straightened, elbows on the table, hands hammocking his chin as he smiled up at you.

“Got some bite in you for sure huh babe, ha! I’m not surprised, honestly when i saw you i was like ‘this bitch has a face made for hell’, you probably got up here cause you were unfuckable so, like, virgin. Oh! Oh! That makes so much fucking sense dude! Ha! Bummer, I could smell the weak loser on ya, didn’t I tell ya danger tits?” Adam questioned head turned toward Lute after his animated, and very condescending speech.

Lute only looked down, not responding. Meanwhile you were horrified, you’d always felt a little less than Lute, after all she carried out holy duties, ones that you hadn’t fully known up until recently, so hearing Adam say the same things you thought of yourself, shattered you. Your face felt hot as tears gathered on the waterline of your eyes. You didn’t belong here, you said it for the longest time everyone here was mindless optimist zombies, Lute was your only lifeline, and for a few months you suppose-Adam.

You never hated him, but it’s clear he’s only fond of Lute. You’re the intruder, you’re the odd one. Clenching your fists you didn’t even bother with a come back, you slid out from your table booking it to the door. Tears unwillingly slid down your cheeks, your chest heaving as your throat closed silencing whatever weep dared to exit your throat.

You could hear Lute calling after you but you genuinely didn’t want to be followed by her, you were embarrassed; the last thing you wanted was the strong exorcist coming to witness you crumble. Throwing the door to the building open your wings sprung out on reflex, and after a few quick steps you took off. You couldn’t quite see, or breathe for that matter. Your mind lagged behind you, replaying the moments in your head that matched up to Adam’s insults.

You blinked rapidly as you attempted to focus on the clouds beneath you and breeze around you, but you couldn’t. You choked once more, your stomach convulsing inward causing you to gasp, a sob violently escaping you as you rocketed toward whatever surface you could find. Suddenly you hit something solid, stunning your flight and causing you to spin down, plummeting. As you fell, the breeze stabbed you as you cut into it, your wings sagging and loosely flailing above you, it felt so calm and freeing you didn’t feel the will to stop.

By the grace of god, however, you were caught and roughly smacked against the chest of someone, their arms clutching you tightly. You barely heard a ‘gotcha’ before your vision tunnelled, stomach flipped and you lost consciousness.

——

Waking slowly, your eyes stung the moment they opened, nearly watering at the blinding white that invaded them. Willing yourself to rise, you lazily scanned the room you laid in. A living room, coloured with yellows, creams and whites, it was, in all honesty, way too much. A large portrait of a man with a woman, meticulously scrapped out, hung above the fireplace. You’d never seen this man ever before, and the woman was too scratched out to get any idea on who it was. Suppose these people never existed as it was a painting, but there was something about the man that captivated you so deeply.

“Look who finally rose, sleeping bitchy.” You immediately felt sick, turning your head unsurprised to see Adam standing there smugly. You frowned deeply, it felt nearly impossible to twist your mouth in such a way, but there was no hiding your distaste in seeing the angel. “Why am I here, Adam.” You say scaldingly, eyes closed attempting to shield yourself from whatever foul look took over his face. “Well after your little shit show, a little over dramatic by the way, Lute left to find you, and I went for a fly. Then suddenly minding my own business I see you tryna play asteroid! Then when I caught you, your dumbass went out.”

Sighing loudly you pulled your hand down your face. “Please, admit Lute put you up to it.” Slamming a glass of water down on the table along with a platter of fruit, including oranges, pomegranates and mangos, Adam grunted moving his hand to sit on his hips. “The fuck she did, she’s not getting the praise for this one.” You looked up at him and then down at the fruit and drink on the side table just to your right, you nodded at it. “What’s this?”

You barely whispered out. Blowing air out threw his lips effectively raspberryingring the air, he shrugged. “Stuff for you, duh, you’re like sick or something right?” You nearly smiled at that, you’d never had Adam have that reaction. Quite the array of fruit as well, carefully you picked up a few pieces of orange, as well as mango that had a toothpick sticking up from them you munched down. You hummed, watching like a hawk as Adam walked across from you and sat on the other couch.

“How long was i out?” You questioned after swallowing, gulping down some water feeling the soothing sensation on your raw throat. “Maybe thirty minutes, not long. I texted Lute, I told her you were with me, safe.” That made you pause, you gazed up at him from the bowl of pomegranates you started digging into. “What? Why didn’t she come?” Adam huffed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaned back. “Because I told her not to.” Your mouth fell open eyes wide.

“Why thee holy fuck, would you tell her not to come?” Sitting up straighter you swung your legs over the side, sitting properly instead of lounging. Adam wouldn’t meet your gaze drifting off to the left and right. “Fucking… fuck!” He exclaimed almost in what sounded like exhaustion. Watching him closely, you waited as he seemed to have an inner debate with himself. Then swiftly he gripped his face and ripped off his mask.

The face you were met with was like a punch in the gut, yeah he could be compared to men you’ve seen in your lifetime probably at a gas station or cheap bar, but it was Adam. The man you’ve been trying so hard to hate, getting into cussing battles, throwing insults at each other that rolled off the back, occasionally praising each other's insults, forcing yourself to loathe him when you both kinda knew it wasn’t and now it was real. You got to look in his gold eyes, the dark thick lashes accentuating the uniqueness of his eye colour, the chin hair that crawled just under his chin -which you never expected him to have-, his tousled brown hair, thick eyebrows one eyebrow pierced - also a shock to you-.

He looked like the asshole he was, and it made you fucking sick. Trying so hard to hate him had come to this? Him unmasking himself after saving you? Cruel, you wanted to hate him, get over him not know that all he said about him being the hottest, the dickmaster, pussypounder-whatever, was probably true, that he’s hot. You were embarrassed to feel the nasty hum of jealousy claw at you when you could see the woman in the painting in your peripheral, that was obviously him, with some woman. He was wanted, and taken before.

Flicking his tongue over his lips you caught a glimpse of a tongue piercing because of course the pretty boy would get whatever he wanted without worrying about rules. He shuffled nervously biting his lip as you eyed him shamelessly, which to him was judgemental, his nerves suddenly making him feel sweaty. “Why?” You ask breathily, you were too enchanted to care how he perceived that however. His eyes properly met yours, your legs crossed subconsciously at the zap you felt just by a look.

“Youre fucking dumb you know that? You think I hang with Lute when you’re around because Lute’s there?!” Adam stood after the exclamation, his eyes shooting around the room, hands flying to his hair. “I can’t fucking do this a third time! Fuck!” Tossing a vase across the room you watched unfazed by the sudden explosion, after all this was your thing too.

“I only go round Lute like that because you’re there dumbass, i tried easing up on you; just like Lute said! But you, oh noooo little bitch, just had to be so fucking bratty.” Standing over you sneering, you made no attempts to move, not genuinely scared of his anger but instead, perhaps, a little aroused. You in a way understood where his frustrations came from anyway, you in a sense felt the same way. Might be why you lost it earlier, the yearning had gotten too real, and he seemed so focused on Charlie.

“I am so disgustingly attracted to you, not even in a sex way! And I know how to deal with that a lot better.” Swinging his hand out sassily, he smirked to himself. Plopping next to you he rested his cheek on his hand, elbows rested on his legs. Plucking an orange from the table you watched him eat it, juice moistening his lips. “You think i’d peel fruit, save, house and give water to some broad I genuinely hated? No, stupid.”

Laughing dryly, you looked up away from Adam’s intense gaze. You smiled, eyes falling from the ceiling to your lap. “God i fucking hate you,” Adam’s face looked horrified, opening his mouth to speak, you stopped him grabbing his cheeks and pulling into a searing hot kiss. Your lips crashed against each others’ lazily but passionately, opened mouthed and slightly sloppy. It was slow however, a kiss that wasn’t just a kiss, neither of you wanted to haste past such a moment, such emotion. Adam’s arms wrapped around your hips nudging you forward, understanding the message you moved in closer, your body’s pressing against each other as much as you could from the seated position on the couch.

You dug your fingers into his hair, brainlessly playing with different strands as your tongues slid along one another’s without care, tasting the orange he just ate presently on his lips and to tongue. It felt heavenly being up against him, Adam smelt so good, he was so warm and you could feel how badly he wanted this. His body jittered, his hands gripping you like you’d disappear if he loosened. Pulling away and looking at Adam, he made no effort to move eyes still closed like trying to etched this memory in his mind. You hummed lovingly, brushing hair away from his forehead. “You’re a dumb bitch.” He whispered raspily, opening his eyes, although not by much as they lidded with lust.

You smirked at him brushing your thumb against his bottom lip. “I know. You too.”

[multifariousqueer]

im starving for 42 miles and i agree w ur hcs so can u pls write a fem reader fic where we’re chilling at home n he js barges in one night all roughed up n he has heaps of cuts n is bloody- and we get concerned but we know not to ask so we js silently patch him up while he stares at us (and hes got like sm thoughts in his head ab how much he loves us and appreciates us etc) and u can finish it off BUT YEAH

also pls include the pet names cos his accent has me WEAKKK and ik he def calls us ma and mami😩😩😩

Ofc Love!!! I’ve wanted to get this done for a bit now so here it is!!:

A/n: keep requesting miles!42 and regular miles fics please!! 🩷

Warnings: suggestiveness at the end, make out sessions, angst, fluff, groping(it’s consensual and it’s only seen when you squint), love confessions, possible spoilers if you haven’t seen atsv yet

3:00 AM

You: miles, baby are you okay?

Seen

You: are you mad at me for the joke I made about your braids being fluffy?

Seen

You: I didn’t mean it

You: text me when you can. Love you 🩷🩷

Seen

You fell asleep exasperated like you’ve been doing for the last three weeks now. Miles hasn’t been answering any of your texts or calls and has been leaving you on seen for no reason. When you did see him in person, he looked tired and diminished. Ever since his dad died, he’s been acting weird like this; but you could understand why. Although him and Uncle Aaron were closer, Miles was still really close to his dad and his dad loved you. You came over Rio and Miles’ house every day since then and tried to provide solace to them but Miles was always gone when you came over. His room looked different too, having ditched the bright superhero posters and traded them in for boxing gloves and a punching bag. Thankfully, you had established trust with Miles and he knew he could come to you any time, you just didn’t expect him to come through your window at 4:00 AM on a Saturday morning.

It was about 3:15 when he saw your message, he wondered why you were still up and what were you doing but he couldn’t ponder the question for too long because he had someone chained up to his punching bag.

“Miles? Get off your phone, man.”- Uncle Aaron’s voice brought Miles back to reality

Miles did as told and geared up to kill the young boy who looked exactly like himself when all of a sudden, the chains fell and the doppelgänger swung at Miles’ perfectly structured face. A few of the punches connected but he was still able to subdue the mirrored image of himself(if everything went right).

However, Miles’ suit had been clobbered, his clothes covered in blood from a broken nose and blood from the fight. Even though he won, he couldn’t go back to his house because his mom would admonish him for this and Uncle Aaron was keeping watch so he went to your house.

You heard faint tapping on the window that you had assumed it was a bird, until the tapping became a loud knocking. You scurried up grabbing the nearest thing that looked like a weapon and went to the window. You found a battered Miles and knew something was wrong:

“Miles?”-you whisper shouted

“Ola mi amor” he said, trying to be suave but flinching in pain

You opened the window and let him in. You knew he was rough and bloodied up for a reason but it was late(or early depending on how you look at it) and you knew he wouldn’t tell you why; a small part of you also knew but chose not to acknowledge it. You just silently grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up as best as you could. You noticed he had a broken nose:

“Rough night?” You Said, trying to ease the tension

Miles didn’t reply, rather he looked at you through bruised eyes and simply nodded.

“Your nose is broken. You should probably go the the hospital for that” you said, nonchalantly

“Can’t you fix it?” He mumbled

“not easily” you mumbled, mocking his tone

He gave you an annoyed glare before saying:

“I’m sorry to come in late like this. And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Mami; it’s a lot going on that you wouldn’t understand and I’m trying to protect you.”

“It would’ve been nice for you to call or text” you said while closing the first-aid kit.

“I knew you would’ve worried about me and I didn’t want that” he said, hanging his head

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s my job to worry about you” you chuckled

It was like a Disney movie, Miles realized that if no one else would, you would hold it down for him and that you were gonna be there through thick and thin. He knew he loved you but this solidified it in his mind; he knew that if he survived long enough, you were gonna be his wife. It would be you waking him up everyday, it would be you kissing him goodnight and good morning, it would be you carrying and having his babies. Some days, he would wake up and wonder how he got so lucky with someone like you but he never thought too much into it because he knew he would find a way to sabotage it for himself but now, he didn’t care:

“I love you, Y/n” he said

“I love you too, Miles” you replied softly

“No. I mean like I love you so much that I can’t stand it, I wanna marry you, Y/n and be with you for life. If no one else has me, I know you do and I can’t even imagine myself without you.” Miles said

You started to tear up before crashing your lips onto his. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he grabbed your hips with one hand, and cupped your face in the other. You stayed this way for a while until Miles slipped his tongue into your mouth, battling for dominance against your tongue which he emerged victorious. He started moving his other hand to your ass as you moved yours to his chest when suddenly, you hear your parent call out:

“Y/n!!!”

“Yeah” you replied nervously, Miles leaving a trail of kisses down your neck

“Breakfast is ready” they shouted

You looked at your phone as Miles rubbed your back and saw it was 8:00 already.

“Shit” You Said under your breath, partly because of how Miles was making you feel

“Go Mamà, we’ll finish this later” he said against his neck

“Okay I love you, call me this time” you smiled

“Por supesto, Mami” he replied

You went down for breakfast and sat in your normal spot:

“Y/n?” Your parent said

“Yeah?” You replied

“What’s that on your neck?” They smirked

Damn it Miles

Translations

Por supesto- of course

[thesassypadawan]

Debriefing *part 4* (Knight Anakin x FemPadawanReader x Master Obi-Wan)

Summary: You had hoped for a proper ‘reunion’ with your master and Ani when they returned from their latest escapade. However they’re both behaving unusual, acting like the whole revelation and ‘debriefings’ never occurred. Leaving you guessing, wondering…so sexually frustrated. That you’re about to do something crazy, until…

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Threesome and Ani and Obi’s big dicks. Padawan reader is of age.

Notes: Thanks all you lovelies for taking the time out to read part 4!  I hoped you enjoyed this little spicy series!  And I also hope you enjoy part 1, part 2, and part 3!

“Little one, are you paying attention?” Obi-Wan scolded, his blue eyes glued to the datapad in his hand. “This is important intel; you need to focus.”

“Y-yes, Master,” you stammered. Attempting to concentrate on your own device, your mind racing with so many unanswered questions. The most important being…why were the two of them acting so normal?

It had all started when he and Anakin had returned from their latest escapade. The usual pleasantries had been exchanged; the ones meant only for the order’s sake. However, once out of the ever watchful eye; you had hoped for a more proper ‘reunion’ with them. Instead, Obi and you went off to your shared quarters…Ani to his. As if the whole revelation and ‘debriefings’ never occurred.

That’s how things had remained for around a week or so. Leaving you guessing, wondering…so sexually frustrated, near the brink of tears. Pushing you to the point of almost saying or do something crazy. Until…

The door slid open and in stormed Anakin. A look of anger, mixed with possessiveness, on his handsome face. “We need to talk.”

Both you and Obi-Wan stared at him, shocked by his sudden appearance. Before you could answer though, your master’s clipped voice came through the bond. ‘Pay him no mind. I’ll handle this.’

Doing like you were told, you returned to your reading. Keeping your head down, you tried your best to ignore them both. Biting your lip the whole time, while their tones only grew louder and their squabble quickly escalated. Talking over, calling one another the most horrible things. While arguing about who you belonged to, which you wanted to…

Unable to take a moment longer, you finally caved. Slamming your pad onto the table, rising from your seat. “Maker, will you shut up?! Both…it’s both of you!”

The pair froze at your outburst. Shocked and stunned, their eyes followed as you slowly stalked towards and squeezed between them. Flashing each a playful smile, running your fingers across their chests. “I belong and want to kriff you both.”

“All right, angel; prove it then,” Ani said smugly. His gloved hand resting on your hip, squeezing it firmly.

Hooking his thumb under his chin, Obi turned your face towards his. “Yes, darling; show us how much you do.”

“With pleasure,” you cooed. Pressing a heated kiss to your master’s lips, your digits trailed down his body. Palming him, freeing his impressive length. Pumping him lazily, grinding your posterior against Ani’s own hardened cock the whole time.

One thing led to another and, soon enough, you found yourself bent over. Face buried…skirt flipped up…panties pulled to the side.

Anakin railed into your soaked cunt, stretching you wonderfully. Forcing you to greedily suck down more of Obi-Wan with every harsh thrust. “Such a good girl.”

Obi’s hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements. Bullying more of himself into your warm mouth, driving you further back onto Ani with his wild bucks. “Taking us so well.”

Already coming dangerously close to your peak. The sensation of being so totally stuffed, of having the duo inside you was all too much. But you’re determined to get them to crash first, thinking of their desires.

While Anakin barreled into you over and over, you swallowed Obi-Wan hungrily. Allowing him to slide deeper, fat head brushing and hitting the back of your throat. Causing you to gage and sputter a tiny bit. Tears beginning to sting at the corners of your eyes, as you looked up at him pleadingly. ‘Please, Master… Please, I want to taste your hot, sticky cum…’

“Maker, I…I…” Letting out a loan groan, he pressed your nose flushed with his abdomen. Hips stilled; his salty sweetness bursting across your tongue, slipping down your throat.

You continued suckling at his length, wanting to get every last drop. Until it must have become too overwhelming and he pulled you off. One big hand cradling your face, the other groping at your chest. Rolling, teasing your pert nipples.

Moans and whines fall freely from your lips as Ani pounded you ruthlessly. Hitting, prodding your cervix…abusing and bruising it thoroughly. His hips slapping against your bottom, gummy walls fluttering and clenching around him. “General… Cum for me… Need you to pump me full…”

“Kriff… Kriff…” A growl escaped him, his hold tightening. Fingers digging, slamming into you hard one last time. Dick twitching, rope after rope spurting. Filling you to the absolute brim.

Milking him for everything he’d give you. Phantom fingers start to toy at your clit. Circling, pinching; pressing down on it. Coupling with the euphoric feeling of your breasts being played with, pushing you to…

Crying out both their names, your vison goes white and you spiral off the edge. Voice growing increasingly higher. Before fading into a series of pants and then a string of giggles. “Th-That was…amazing... R-round two…”

“Absolutely, dear one,” Obi chuckled, stroking your cheek tenderly.

“More than happy to, hatari,” Anakin hummed, caressing your side gently. “Just let me com Snips first. Let her know that I'm going to be in a ‘debriefing' for a while.”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalkerkestis, @loverforoldermen,

[vashyr]

୨۪୧  ִ  　トライガン 　⁝ 　𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 　𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘺　 ֺ   ⑅ 　( ♡ )

— 𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴, 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺 ִ  ۫  ˒

˚꒰♡꒱‧ 8 PM Halloween post <3

The town was alight with Halloween festivities, music echoing through the streets, strings of orange lanterns flickering along doorways and windows. You wandered through the crowd, admiring costumes of every variety, from classic horror icons to homemade renditions of local legends.

Among them, you caught sight of a figure in a striking red coat, and your heart skipped a beat.

It was unmistakably Vash the Stampede—well, someone dressed as him. The long red duster, the spiked blond hair, the familiar tinted glasses that seemed to glint under the lantern light. Everything was perfect, down to the intricate metal arm peeking out from one sleeve. You hadn’t seen anyone capture Vash’s look so well, and as a fan of his legendary exploits, you couldn't resist approaching.

“Hey!” you called, weaving through the crowd until you were just a few feet away. When he turned to face you, you noticed something strange: his expression was bashful, his cheeks slightly pink, eyes wide with a certain kind of innocence that didn’t seem like an act.

He looked you up and down with a shy smile, his gloved hand scratching at the back of his neck.

“Nice costume!” you gushed, beaming at him. “You really nailed it. I mean, the coat, the glasses—oh, and even the arm detail. Wow, you must be a big fan of Vash the Stampede too!”

His blush deepened as he stammered, “Uh—w-well, thank you. I appreciate it.” His voice was soft, a little breathless, as though your words had caught him off guard.

“You’re welcome! You don’t know how rare it is to see someone go all out like this. The outfit’s spot-on, and honestly, your resemblance is uncanny,” you laughed, shaking your head in admiration. “You must’ve spent ages on it.”

“Ah, y-yeah, ages,” he echoed, giving a sheepish grin as he glanced to the side, hiding half his face behind his collar. He didn’t seem to know quite what to do with his hands as he chuckled, and you found his awkwardness endearing.

“I mean, you’ve really captured that warmth of his, too,” you went on, not picking up on the fact that his sheepish grin was very real. “Everyone knows about Vash, but I’ve always thought the best part of him is his heart, y’know?” You placed a hand on your chest, a bit lost in your own admiration for the mysterious hero. “He always tries to help others. He believes in peace, even if he has to carry that reputation as a dangerous outlaw. That’s what makes him so unique.”

At this, the man’s blush only intensified, his mouth opening to speak, though his words came out soft and halting. “I… wow, that’s… You really see him that way?” he murmured, as though he couldn’t quite believe it. His face softened, a gentleness lighting his eyes.

“Absolutely. He’s a legend,” you said, your voice warm and sincere. “I bet if he were here right now, he’d feel really grateful to have someone out there doing such a great job representing him. Makes it feel like he’s right here in the crowd with us, you know?”

Vash let out a quiet laugh, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… I guess you could say that.” He seemed to search your face for a moment, as if savoring every word, a wistful look flickering through his gaze.

Feeling bold, you patted his shoulder. “Well, you definitely made my night with that costume. Seriously, thanks for bringing Vash’s spirit to life, even just for tonight.”

Before you could say more, he gently clasped his hand over yours, his gloved fingers warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice filled with a surprising sincerity. “That means more than you know.”

A sudden cheer broke out from the crowd as people called out for a costume contest, and you gave him an encouraging nod. “You’ve got my vote! Go show everyone what Vash the Stampede is made of!”

His grin widened, and he gave you a little salute before blending into the crowd. You watched him go, admiring how he seemed to move with an unspoken grace and warmth, as though carrying an invisible weight. For a moment, you swore you saw a flicker of something in his eyes, a glimmer of emotion so raw that it made your chest tighten.

As the contest went on and the evening wore down, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of wonder, as though you’d met not just a fan dressed as Vash, but the man himself. But, you thought with a smile, that’s impossible.

Or was it? You’d never know for sure, but something about the gentle warmth in his voice would stay with you, leaving you with a strange sense of comfort long after Halloween had come and gone.

⸺ (⠀©⠀)⠀𝆬⠀ ○⠀vashyr⠀ .ㅤ ও

[accio-victuuri]

i just noticed i’ve been v partial lately to zsww fake house and of course our dear lrlg that i forgot about another fake story house 给博肖加点小料bot . the last contribution i posted from them was this — the drawing of them 💋. so for a bit of a catch up, i will share ones from the past dates 2/24, 3/3, 3/26, 4/3, 4/29, 5/21 and 5/29.

enjoy the goods! ^^ everything here is fake/fiction.

2/24/2024:

I have been losing weight recently, and if I crave meat, I will order takeout like beggar's chicken. Once when the meal arrived, XLS used the disposable plastic gloves provided to tear the chicken, and he got burned. Then he put the thick cloth gloves that came with the meal on the outside of the disposable plastic gloves and tried to grab it. We quickly stopped him, and he realized that he should wear the thick gloves inside and the disposable gloves outside. After eating, he called WLS as usual to report today's diet. He acted like a spoiled child to WLS and said that he was burned. Usually you tear it for him, and he didn't know it would be so hot. He also said that he would not dare to do it next time. Later, XLS told us that he ate chicken when he was losing weight, and WLS even made him hand-torn chicken.

ugh. honestly. these two. forget about peeling shrimps for your s/o! it’s now shredding chicken with your hands and then letting them eat it like that is the key. i swear, WLS really spoils XLS! and i like hearing about him acting like this with WLS.

and a background on what is “beggar’s chicken”

3/3/2024:

Once when we were staying in a hotel, we entered the elevator from the first floor. A robot came in with us. We pressed the button for floor x. Wls and xls pressed the button for floor x, but the button for another floor in the elevator was also on. Xls saw that no one pressed the button, so he turned off the button for that floor. It turned on again after he pressed it off. Xls continued to press the button, and it turned on again after a while. Wls said, don't press it, it's the robot pressing it. Xls was very quick and pressed it again while listening to Wls. As a result, it didn't light up again this time: Wls was very exaggerated to say that he was awesome. He deserved to be my leader. Even robots have to listen to you.

i have nothing to say here other than they are such dorks. 🙃🙃🙃

3/26/2024:

WLS wanted XLS to call him gege, but XLS refused, so WLS tickled him. XLS had no choice but to quietly call him gege. After that, his face turned red. WLS still wouldn’t let us see it👀………………Don’t believe the fake news

why do i feel like this is real and not a fake story. 😂

4/3/2024:

They had a pair of Crayon Shin-chan toys, similar to the toys we played with when we were kids, which would automatically swing forward by turning a switch. XX was playing with his own toy, and xxx's toy didn't move. XX's toy swung and swung until it came to xxx's toy. The two toys were face to face, eyes to eyes, mouth to mouth, and then XX exclaimed in a very cute way, and XXX laughed along with XX.

even the toys they are playing with are dating 🤦‍♀️

4/29/2024:

For a while, x liked to watch food shows to find delicious snacks, but he was on a diet and couldn't eat too much. Every time he bought a bunch of snacks, he would taste them and share them with us. Some of them were so delicious that he couldn't finish them, so he would send them to w to clean them up. The courier here always knew the delivery address without telling us.

5/21/2024:

xls mistakenly sent a video of himself practicing kettlebells to the group. It was said that it was originally sent to wls.

OH NOOOOOO! what other workout videos is he sending to WYB??? how about post workout selfies??? ���👀👀👀 XZ, please check who you are sending stuff to!!!!

5/29/2024:

XZ: I think I have dry skin

WYB: Bullshit, you sweat so much

XZ: Oh! I feel that my skin is still dry after applying body lotion recently, am I going to have dry skin?

👩‍🦳: It may not be moisturizing enough, but it will be summer soon, so I don’t need body lotion

👱‍♀️: The whitening one, the one you mentioned last time, I plan to buy the same one

XZ: Oh, that one is actually good

WYB: Is that one particularly fragrant? I touched it, and the smell is exquisite

XZ: It’s none of your business

WYB: I can’t join you at all

the comments on this contribution was mostly about “straight man” yibo 🤣🤣🤣

-END

[marvelgurl789fanfics]

Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Child OC

(Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Rogue)

~Papa (Part 2 to Safe)~

Safe (Part 1):

Warning: slightly suggestive (Gambit x Rogue)

(Not the best at grammar or punctuation)

Summary: Gambit struggles to be the caretaker of Fiona but finds himself easily falling into the role of her papa.

Masterlist:

~~~~~

The first few days looking after Fiona were hard, Gambit couldn’t leave the med bay without panicking the child. Only when Fiona fell asleep could he sneak off to take a shower or spend a few moments with his Cher, and hope she won’t wake while he’s gone.

In the rec room Gambit stretched out long ways on the sofa Rogue laying on top of him, her head in the middle of his chest careful of skin contact. Remy’s hand ran down her covered back in a relaxing manner earning a sigh of contentment from Rogue, “Je vous aime” Gambit said sweetly. Moving one of his gloved hands into her hair and gently massaging her scalp, “Keep this up Sugar, you may never get rid of me” Rogue hummed snuggling her face closer to his clothes chest placing small kisses. “Have no intention to mom amour” Gambit replied looking at her with black eyes full of nothing but love.

“We still have that power dampening collar stashed in my room. How about we go upstairs, and take it out for a spin again?” Rogue reminded him sitting up to straddle his lap, giving him a look of want chewing on her bottom lip. Remy moaned at the idea but had to stop himself from accepting. “Mon amour, as much as Remy wants to he can’t, Fiona will be scare if she wake and Remy not there” Gambit pleaded with her sitting up as well. “I understand Sugar, you care a lot about her” Rogue smiled softly rubbing her hand on his chest in a comforting manner. “Cher get Remy all to herself soon, Mon petit will adjust soon” Remy smiled sweetly. “You know I love you too right?” Rogue said cupping his face in her gloved hands. “Bien sûr” Gambit hummed in response, slipping her hand over his mouth and kissing the other side.

The professor promised once she gets comfortable with her new environment she’ll be more reasonable with his absence. The days were spent teaching her go fish, she didn’t quite grasp the idea of numbers but recognize the matching colors. Gambit let it slide that the child matched 4 of hearts with the 7 of diamonds, seeing the joy in her eyes at her “match”.

Gambit was in more comfortable clothes ripped jeans, light purple band t-shirt with the sleeve cut off making the arm holes bigger, and his hair pulled back in his usual ponytail. “Now Mon Cheri, you ask Gambit for a card” Gambit said sitting on the end of the cot opposite of the girl looking very intently at her five cards. “Red 4” Fiona said happily, “you sure that’s what you wanna ask Gambit for?” He teased the girl. “Red 4” Fiona giggled nodding her head. Gambit put his hand to his chest acting as if it hurt his very soul as he handed the 4 of hearts to her earning a full on laugh from the child. Fiona took the 7 of diamonds from her hand and placed it on the pile of matches they made along with the card she just received. Gambit said nothing but raised an eyebrow at her match ‘perhaps when Mon Cheri’s better we work on numbers’ he noted to himself.

All was going as well as it could, until a mission came along requiring his thief expertise. The professor and Gambit tried to explain to the girl that he’d come back, but she seemed convinced he’d be gone forever and started to cry. The professor try to console the child while Gambit slipped out for the mission. He hated seeing any child cry but Fiona’s tears were like a stake to the heart.

“Gambit gonna be gone for a bit, but he be back” Gambit said affectionately petting Fiona’s head, immediately Fiona’s eyes filled with fear grabbing onto his coat in a death grip like when they first met. “Won’t be gone long, Gambit promise you Mon Cheri” he tried to reason with the three year old. “No go” Fiona said in a small shaky voice, eyes starting to wet with unspilled tears. “Fiona I promise you, you will not be alone. I’ll stay with you if you’d like?” Xavier tried to comfort the child with a smile. “No go” Fiona repeated in a broken voice the tears now flowing free. “Sorry Mon Cheri” Gambit said leaning to place a kiss on the top of the girls head, while gently forcing her grip open releasing his coat. Slowly making his way out of the med bay, taking one last look Fiona managed to crawl half way out of the cot only to be caught in Xavier arms. Fiona’s cry of “Papa” was the last thing Gambit heard as the med bay door closed.

The mission was child’s play for him slip in grab the hard drive out of some baddies computer and leave, it took longer than he originally expected. The man must have no life, he rarely left his office. Gambit tried focusing on his mission but for two days the picture of Fiona crying kept floating to the front of his mind. Slight relief filled his mind as the school came into view, riding his motorcycle into the hanger. Hoping of the bike and making his way inside in a hurried pace despite his exhaustion. Turning the corner of the hall a bit too quickly almost running head first into Logan. “Slow down Cajun” Wolverine said in a not unfriendly manner. “Triste Logan” Remy said letting his shoulders slump exhaustion catching up with him.

“Heading to see the kid?” Wolverine asked already knowing the answer. “Oui, how was Mon Cheri while Gambit was away?” Gambit asked now walking with Wolverine in the direction of the med bay. “Upset no one could calm her down, Morph had to be you just to get her to eat anything. She noticed something wasn’t right and figured out Morph wasn’t you” Wolverine informed. “Poor Mon Cheri” Gambit said to himself, approaching the med bay door. Stepping into the med bay seeing Morph in his natural appearance in a chair keeping an eye on the child, who was giving him a death glare with red puffy eyes from crying.

“Oh look daddy’s home” Morph said notice Gambit enter with Wolverine, the comment earning an amusing huff from Logan. Fiona gave him a weary look not knowing if it’s true after Morph’s trick. “It’s really Gambit Mon petit, told you I be back” Gambit said approach the cot petting her head. Fiona grabbed the side of his coat and burying her face in it. “Beast said it should be ok for her to start walking around on her leg in the next few days” Morph informed while making his way to the door with Wolverine, “merci” Gambit thanked as they left. “Papa” Fiona cried getting his attention again. Gambit lifted the girl in his arm and laying in the cot himself pulling Fiona to his chest letting her cuddle up to him “oui Mon petit, père maison” Gambit said wrapping his arms around her and letting exhaustion take over.

An hour later Rogue heard Gambit got home but wanted to give him a bit with Fiona, since the child missed him so much. Walking into the med bay only to find a passed out Gambit with a little girl fast asleep cuddled to his chest. A smile formed on her lips, quietly taking a blanket from an empty cot and covered the sleeping pair. Softly Rogue caressed Gambit’s check with her gloved hand before leaving the two to sleep.

~~~~~

I might make this a mini series, I’ll see how it goes. Pretty sure of a part 3 though.

Thank you all for the support!

I don’t know French, all French is from google translate:

Cher (dear)

Je Vous Aime (I love you)

Mon amour (my love)

Bien sûr (of course)

Mon Cheri (my dear/my darling)

Triste (sorry)

Oui (yes)

Mon petit (my little one)

Merci (thank you)

Oui Mon petit, père maison (yes my little one, papa’s home)

Part 3:

[writing-havoc]

ok, my request is: nikolai lantsov x reader where they are married for convenience but are friends and support each other. they secretly love each other and that's why they kiss when they don't have to and sleep together, really adoring each other, and that's where spicy comes in, although it's completely optional if you don't feel comfortable doing it. oh, and i imagine that after zoya becomes queen, nikolai and reader finally declare themselves to each other, assuring that they love each other with or without a crown. like, angst/comfort and fluff at the end? if you can't include spicy it's ok! you write wonderfully well ♡♡♡

An Exhausted Smile

♡ Summary: You consider your position as the Ravkan King's spouse. It doesn't feel as fulfilling as you'd like it to be, and he surprises you by feeling the same.

♡ Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

♡ Fandom: King of Scars, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): 18+, says cock once, mentions nausea

♡ WC: 5.5k

Hi hi! Tysm for this request!

I didn't know what gender you wanted reader to be. However after writing the whole thing I feel it's obvious that you may have wanted a fem reader, but this is what I came up with!

It doesn't get completely smutty, but it does reach a point that I'd consider adult. So I hope it's still to your liking <3

Please ignore any spelling and grammar mistakes, the beginning of this before the bedroom scene was written with a massive headache so I do apologize if it seems a bit rough around the edges there.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

The ballroom is filled to the brim with people. Each one varying in their level of importance and showcasing as such by either vastly overdressing or being a bit more modest, but still wanting to put on their best for their King.

And you, by proxy.

Your clothes match your husband's in their own right. He wore the standard garb that fits a King, white base and gold accents, matching gold aiguillette wrapped around his shoulder. While you lacked the fancy rope, Genya compensated with a few select ribbons and even jewelry where she felt it needed.

The rings on Nikolais gloved fingers made your decorated wrist feel less alone.

"Just have to get through this and then we can retreat back to our room." He whispers, working on his smile in a silver vase.

The way he says "our" still makes your heart flutter, even close to a year after your marriage was sanctioned.

You give him a glare, despite him being unable to see it. "You act like this is only going to last an hour or two. You know just as well as I do that this is going to be an all night endeavor." A sigh nearly deflates your entire being. "Especially with the representatives from Kerch. They always get everyone riled up."

He chuckles. "You speak of them as if they're just regulars at the tavern and not government officials."

You pick off a piece of hair that managed to dislodge itself from your scalp and wrap around your fingers. Genya's going to be mad when she sees you.

She hadn't done much with your hair aside from the occasional color correction, but she did make a point to get any kinks out and help it move in one solid direction in contrast to your usual bedhead.

You feel a little bad for messing it up, smiling when you imagine her reaction.

It's not as if you weren't royalty before your engagement. You were simply second born. So it's not like anybody particularly cared so long as you appeared to be put together and well behaved. Your hair was allowed to be a bit messy if you were extra respectful and made an effort to engage when spoken to. You were allowed to have your clothes a little rumpled so long as you came in late, apologized profusely, and fixed them while doing so.

Exceptions were allowed to be made. But now...

Nikolai is in front of you, boots oddly quiet on the tiled floor. His fingers card through your hair, fixing it and moving strands that wandered one way or another.

You weren't meant to accomplish much in your life. Until Nikolai offered his hand in marriage.

"Keep doing that and you'll go bald."

You swat at his hands, no real anger behind it, an uncontrollable grin pulling at the corners of your mouth. He smiles too, and it's a pretty little thing. Teeth poking out and lips shiny with a gloss you know Genya made clear and taste like berries.

You know because he kisses you now, hands pulling you close.

And it hurts.

It makes your heart ache in all the wrong ways.

But you can't help but lean into it, hand pulling at his neck to make him come just that little shuffle closer.

A throat clears from behind him, which he promptly ignores and chases after you when you go to pull away, a chuckle spilling from both of your throats.

"As lovely as it is to see you both happy," Genya marches forward, inserting herself between you both, "you are messing with everything I have spent the last several hours crafting. Hands off until after your guests leave."

She quickly begins fixing your hair, drawing color from swatches she keeps around her wrist and fixing your cheekbones, smiling when you wet your lips and taste the gloss.

It takes everything in your power to not let your eyes nervously flicker around the room, instead letting them settle on Nikolai, who looks just moments away from gently pushing Genya to the side.

"If Ravka and it's neighboring countries have a problem with a King who openly loves his partner, then that's their business."

A plethora of feelings cascade over your mind and heart, seeping into your essence.

It feels... complicated.

And you feel like one of those annoying novel protagonists for saying so, but really you can't find a word in any of the languages you know that could give someone, anyone, some sort of insight into your internal dilemma.

Nikolai is your best friend. Has been since you were eleven.

But you have also loved him since you were fourteen, the feelings slowly moving through your veins like a poison, obvious to you from the very beginning and only becoming stronger as the days pass.

And as far as you can tell, Nikolai does not feel the same.

You remember the day he proposed you get married, and the exhausted and pained expression he wore when he presented you with a ring, smile completely and utterly fake.

You know all of his smiles by heart. And you know on that day, in that moment, he was grieving.

No matter how many times he kisses you behind closed doors, you cannot be rid of the fact that this marriage is for convenience and convenience only.

Love is not shared between you two. Not in the way you want, anyway.

But you take what you can get. Every fruit flavored kiss. Every hand perfectly slotting into your own. Every night filled with hushed sighs and names whispered behind the shell of your ear because he knows you hate the feeling of hot breath no matter who is speaking into it.

You take it, and you put a cold rag over your sad, swollen eyes when you feel like you can't.

Once Genya is done fixing you up, she moves onto Nikolai, who now looks more concerned than anything.

You flick invisible dust off your shoulders, giving yourself a moment to compose yourself when you turn to the silver vase Nikolai was using earlier.

Everything is warped on the surface. Parts of you look bigger than they should when you turn one way or another. You don't know how he could make himself look as good as he does while using it.

"I know you aren't over there poking around at everything again."

"I'm not." You say. "Just admiring your work."

She hums. "As you should."

Nikolai is still looking at you as you turn around, a silent question flickering across his face.

You give him your answer by walking up to him, looping your arm through his and offering a small smile.

He's not convinced. But the doors are opening, and you both have to step through with smiles on your faces and hands outstretched, taking on Ravka's problems and hoping there's enough favors in the world for what's coming.

There's music playing in the corner, people are mingling but still trying to stay in tightly knit groups, and a few refuse to stray farther than a few feet from the table which held a constantly refilling onslaught of finger foods.

For the next few hours you're approached by various people, most of whom you remember from your wedding.

But there's a few who make snide comments, with very thinly veiled insults.

It bothers you a lot more than it should, having thought most of them during your darker hours.

"Will you remain after the war?" Someone from the Kerch council asks.

You chuckle, feeling nauseous. "Of course I will. The war being over doesn't null our marriage."

They just smile and say 'Of course' before walking off, whispering lowly to each other.

After the third time, everything feels a little too much.

"Excuse me." You don't wait for whoever approaches you to nod or protest.

Navigating out of the ballroom feels a little too much like an act of survival. You think a few people try and talk to you, but you're not sure, exiting out a side door and standing in the middle of the hall.

What the is going on with you?

You wipe your clammy and shaking hands on your clothes, dusting off invisible dirt and grime from your hips and chest.

It feels like you're going to buzz out of your skin. You tighten your ears, making a rumble in your eardrums to drown out the music and idle chatter from inside.

The guards that stand outside the ballroom doors give you the side eye. No matter how long you've been conventionally married to a King, you will never get used to having eyes and ears on you at all times. It feels like you can't even breathe without them judging or assuming something is going to happen.

You get it. You really do. After the bloodbath that was Nikolai's birthday, security had been upped. It'd be a political nightmare for something such as that to happen twice. It'd prove that Ravka was as weak as everyone thinks it is. That it lacks the means to protect itself, that it's an open buffet for everyone to take a piece of.

But did they have to have such probing glances? Legs so ready to spring and hands itching to take hold in the face of the slightest danger?

Sometimes your body doesn't feel like your own.

And maybe it's not.

Not when your marriage is founded on a lie.

You exist as an arm piece. Your presense only has one use: to provide the illusion that should Nikolai perish, the country will remain strong.

"Are you alright, my love?"

Nikolai puts a hand on your back, leaning forward to look you in the eye.

Guilt immediately eats at your gut.

"Ill be fine in a few minutes." You manage, relaxing your ears. The rumbling seizes and your head teeters backwards as you whisper, "Just too much pretending."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, eyes roaming over your face with what looks like disappointment flashing over his features. "Do you need to head to bed for the night?"

You chuckle. "Good luck explaining that one to Zoya. The ministers and ambassadors and whatever other important persons there are, are expecting both of us tonight. We cannot disappoint."

'I cannot disappoint.' Is something you keep to yourself.

"You forget that I'm the King, not Zoya." The way he rubs at your back with his gentle fingers makes your heart stutter. "If my partner is feeling ill and wishes to retreat to their room, then they shall do so."

You only sigh, not having anything to say to that.

The bed did sound particularly comforting about now.

For a long moment the world becomes dark as you imagined yourself out of these formal clothes, dressed in your worn out shirt and wide flowy pants that didn't feel like they were castrating your legs. You imagined crawling into your plush bed, tightly packed wool sewn into soft silk.

It was a mistake.

"Nikolai?" You hum, eyes opening to stare at him with heavy lids.

"Yes?"

"One more hour. Then I'll head to bed."

It was a compromise, one he didn't usually entertain. He would much prefer you laying down when you got like this than have you force yourself to stay until the party ends.

But you lean into him a little, wrapping your own arm around his waist, and he becomes a bit more pliable.

"One hour," He agrees. "But I get to check in on you every quarter to ask if you're alright."

You chuckle. "I wouldn't except anything less, Sobachka."

You do not miss the way his eyes go just a bit thinner, a black well forming in each of his multicolored irises.

Just because you feel poorly for your situation doesn't mean you have to make him feel miserable as well.

Especially since you know he's really trying.

Guilt continues to eat at your gut throughout the night, because even if being just an arm piece is your role, Nikolai hasn't done anything to make you feel that way.

He has only ever treated you with the utmost respect and affection. Triumvirate meetings always include you should you wish to go, and your opinion is never overshadowed by him, always taken into consideration even if playfully mocked by the others. He knows every little ick you have made known to him and ones you have not, and has done his best to purge those things from your daily routine.

If what he's craving for that night doesn't suit your tastes or contains a texture you find reprehensible, he makes sure the palace chefs make something that you're craving too.

'It's only fair' he says.

At night, in the dark of your shared bedroom, he'll talk and talk about the things he loves most and rope you into them, dumping any information he has right into your lap for you to pick apart and inspect, and he'll watch as the cogs turn in your brain and find the right questions.

There's never a rush to get the conversation over with. It doesn't feel like just a nicety, because he's still your best friend at the end of it all and he still cares.

He has only ever done his absolute best to make you feel adored.

But it doesn't feel like enough.

Even as he does his last and final check in, not missing the other three by even a minute, you see the way his shoulders are squared and his attention is half elsewhere.

He is a King. He is a performer. And you're part of the act.

"You ready for bed?" He asks, voice low with a flute of undrunken champagne in his jeweled fingers.

You take a look around, and sigh deeply. "Yeah."

His face morphs into a wide smile, immediately finding a server and handing them the beverage to deal with as he ushers you out of the room and towards your shared chambers, flashing that changed expression to the people he was just talking to and giving them some sort of excuse about your health.

The buzzing has lessened, now that you're promised a nice rest. Nikolai nudges you along, but walks at your own pace as you undo ribbons and clasps and buttons.

There's an urge somewhere, to scream. It creates a feeling of anxiety that attacks your backside, feeling as if someone is behind you.

But Nikolai continues to rub your back when he feels you begin to stiffen, sees your hair stand on end, and the feeling dissipates, albeit slowly.

As he opens the door for you, he begins giving some long winded instructions towards the guards that stand outside the doors, everything you were feeling before is replaced with longing and grief.

It's taken you a year, but you're finally realizing that this is your life now.

You won't ever be going back to your home except as a guest. You love your husband. And everything feels too hot and tight.

You shed your outer layers, tossing them over the chair at his desk and undoing your shoes. All that weight feels like a blessing to be shed so easily.

The cool air sends goosebumps trailing up your arms, and Nikolai is there to rub them away.

"I've told the guards to not bother you unless the word comes directly from me." He presses a long, lingering kiss to your temple. "Ill be back in a few hours, hopefully with some leftover snacks from the tab-"

He doesnt get another word in before you turn and capture his lips in yours. Surprise holds his mouth still, but it doesnt last long before he's pressing back into you.

For saints sake (you almost cringe when you remember they're real, according to your husband), if this is your life now, why can't you be a little selfish with it?

You swear you have this oh moment once every few months, but it sinks in a little deeper every time.

It hurts, you think, as you part for only a moment, lips coming back together.

But it feels worth it for now. Right here. Where you can kiss him and kiss him and use the married excuse.

His hands cradle each side of your head, his body pushing into yours. You can hardly feel anything through that damned coat but you'd be hard pressed not to try, fingers feeling the silhouette of his ribs and the way they flow to his hips.

You want that coat off, and pop just one button before you're rudely interrupted by Nikolai walking backwards, taking you with him.

He sits on the plush bed you fantasized about crawling into, and you climb on top, feeling powerful in the way you're able to look down at him.

His mouth opens to speak, but you kiss the space between his brows, trailing down his imperfect nose and finally catching the corner of his still open lips as you undo even more buttons.

Your shoulders feel like they're on fire, a sort of fog clouding anything besides the link between your mind and core desires.

But you'll still take this slow, loving on him and edging him towards the side of staying rather than gaining his senses and walking out that door.

The door that closes behind you.

That, is enough for you to take a squallors power to the fog that covers your brain.

He has a party to go to, you think, turning around and looking at the door, watching a shadow retreat off to the side. He has people to entertain and people to ask favors of.

"Are you alright?" Nikolai asks for what seems to be the hundredth time today.

You feel a little embarrassed, about wanting to ravage him and nearly succeeding with the door wide open for the guards to hear, to see.

And now that you really think about it, the feeling gets so much worse.

"Um- yeah." You decide after much deliberation. "Just wasn't aware the door was still... open."

You move to get off of him, but he hooks his arm around your back and flips you over. You meet the bed with a little 'oof', and in the span of only a few seconds he's got you pinned down.

No real weight is applied to you, but you have no where to shimmy off to should you desire.

One of his legs are between your own, much to your dismay, a hand pressed into the bed beside your head, and a hand gripping anything he can grab of your hip.

His vest is wide open, a loose white shirt the only thing between you and the warmth you crave.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

It almost feels like he's trying to seduce you into honesty.

You release a shaky breath, silently fighting with yourself if this is the moment you want to potentially ruin.

"I love you."

It's really a shame that the seduction works, and that you're just too damn tired of pretending anymore.

His hand tightens around your hip then, the tips of his fingers beginning to dig into your skin. It makes you take a deep breath, almost unable to pass the lump in your throat that was left after your confession.

A horrible parting gift of sorts.

A reward for your idiocity.

But then he leans down, hand coming away from your hip as he slowly sinks down.

His fingers trail up the side of your torso, hips pushing into yours as the rest of him trails behind, stomach meeting stomach and chest touching chest, and if they could you think your ribs would slot together just perfectly with his until your hearts could meet.

He presses a kiss to the corner of your open mouth, hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together.

"Promise?" He asks, heavy eyes and blond lashes fluttering as they look into your own.

Moments like these almost convince you that he loves you too. That he lays awake at night thinking about where to go from here. That he doesn't on some level completely regret getting on one knee and asking for your hand.

"I promise."

He smiles, so genuine and soft.

You feel your heartbeat spread throughout your body, blood pumping harshly through your veins, and you know he feels it too when he has to shut his eyes and compose himself.

You want to move, want to feel him.

So of course that's when he decides to parrot back at you the words that constantly play on loop in your head.

"I love you too."

You look at him then, really really look at him, and watch has his eyes fall open, pupils blown and red waves flowing over his cheeks and nose.

It's a sight to behold.

You want to believe the words that spill out of his mouth, and there isn't anything about him that gives him away as a liar.

But you just can't believe him.

And he sees that.

Because just as well as you can read him, he can read you too.

"I love you." He says, leaning down and kissing just beneath your eyes.

The gloss makes his lips soft, a stark contrast to their usually chapped texture. But he's also just plain gentle, kissing you and whispering small 'I love you's between each one as he moves to your jaw and then to your lips.

"Nikolai." You whisper. Nothing comes to mind anymore.

"I love you." He says again. "And ill do anything to make you believe it."

The lump in your throat returns. "Nikolai."

"I'll whisper it in the morning when you wake up. I'll yell it at you from across the courtyard. I'll scream it from the top of my lungs everytime we—fuck." A moan spills out of him like thick candy, your own gasp surprising you despite it being your fault that your hips came up to press into his.

He takes a moment to think, to wrangle in the words he wants to say before they escape him. "I'll declare it before all of Ravka all over again. I'll eat the little things you hate because I love you more than I hate anything."

It can't be real.

He leans down, his nose brushing against yours till your foreheads meet. You can feel his lips barely brush your own. "What do I need to do to make you believe me?"

"Stay?" You say without thinking. "For starters? Just for a while."

He kisses you, the taste of blueberries welcomed by your tongue.

"With the way you were talking to me, I won't even make it half a bell."

That makes you chuckle, which is completely replaced with a low moan as his cock presses into you. It makes your fingers twitch shut around his gloved hand, the rings digging into your bones.

The pants he's wearing are too tight for your liking. You can't really feel him. Just a vague idea.

And right now, vague ideas are not going to cut it.

He seems to have the same idea as he leans back, climbing off the bed. His coat slips off his body, and his fingers tease under his shirt, well within your line of sight from where you sit up, missing the warmth and friction he was graciously giving you.

"You'll have to wait until I get all this off, darling." He sheds the shirt and moves to his hands, slowly plucking off the rings. The gloves come off after, and you nearly whimper at the sight of his blackened fingers. "It could take a while."

You shuffle to the edge of the bed, not giving him the opportunity to back away as your legs hook behind his own and bring him back to you.

He stills as he watches you reach forward, the tips of your fingers feeling the edge of his pants and barely touch the skin of his lower torso, veins teasing your eyes. You feel like you're floating, the littlest sparks popping around your neck and exploding below your naval.

"We can't have that, can we?" You croon, finding the clasp of his belt and undoing it. "You still have a party to get back to."

He groans the moment his belt slackens, pants falling soon after you unzip the little zipper that held everything together.

You almost wish he would have worn his first army outfit for tonight.

"That I do." He gets out, the sound of various metals falling to the floor. "We should make this quick."

You should be worried about the rings, you think. Either you or him will step on them later and hurt your feet.

But as he leans down again, pressing his lips to your neck and starts sucking that little patch of skin he's mapped out so well, you can't bother to think about it.

You have a King on top of you. You'd be a fool to think about anything else.

-----

The moment Nikolai relinquished his throne in front of the four present nations, your heart sunk.

He didn't look at you for a while, focusing his attention on Zoya, and you were almost thankful for it as you did everything in your power to keep your expression even, forcing a smile on your lips as Zoya began to take charge, addressing those around her for her place as Queen.

You wanted to smack Nikolai for not giving you some sort of warning, but it seems Zoya didn't know either as she gave him the occasional glare when the crowd seemed too focused on gossiping with eachother.

But more importantly you wanted answers.

After that night where you told him you loved him, pouring every bit of meaning into those little words, things were looking up for your relationship.

Little by little you allowed yourself to believe him. He did everything he proposed to you and then some. You unwrapped more of him than you could have ever accessed before and you found yourself allowing him to do the same.

But if he loves you like he says he does, has loved you for just as long as you have, why the hell did he look so damn sad when he proposed to you?

Would he still love you now? Now that he's not King and there truly is no more use for you?

Because despite everything that he's done within the last few weeks, fighting for his country on the front lines and somehow still finding some way to tell you he loves you, staying up into the dead hours of night writing letters and just thinking while holding your hand, you still have your doubts.

He came to you out of obligation. You werent his first choice but he came to you anyway when it seemed the other options were no longer there.

Now that he wasn't King, would he still try?

The Darkling came out from the shadows, challenging the authority of The Apparat.

Nikolai stood beside you, shoulder just slightly between you and the little spat.

Now that he was just Nikolai, would he still find worth in your presence?

He can have anybody now. He doesn't have to worry about the political nightmare it might cause for him to take on a partner with a less than desirable upbringing. He could go for the seamstress at that little hat shop he likes to eye or a baker from the heart of Novyi Zem.

The Apparat is surrounded by Royal Guards and Sun Soldiers nearly leap from where they stand in pursuit of the Darkling. Zoya talks with Nina and the young prince of Fjerda, and Nikolai stays put, a giddy almost childish smile barely contained on his face as he stares at you.

You look at him, begging him to explain as Zoya is roped into conversation with various Ravkan officials, but it seems he's just absolutely overcome with joy.

It makes you smile too, despite the dread and confusion building up in your gut.

"Would you care to explain what just happened?"

He chuckles. "I, just set us free."

"What?"

It's so... surreal.

He looks nervous now, looking around as Ravkan officials slowly peel themselves away from Zoya, the masses still chanting their approval for a Grisha Queen. The seats around the hall are completely empty, and the longer he waits to explain to you what he means the more you feel like you're going to burst out if your skin.

Finally, the last of them leave, and Zoya turns her angry gaze at Nikolai once more.

Wind whirls around the hall, windows shutting. "I," she points a finger at Nikolai, "am going to choke you."

"You'll have to wait in line for that." He takes your hand and squeezes it.

She looks at him then, and scoffs. "We will discuss this after you're done here."

"Depending on how this goes that would be either my greatest pleasure or worst nightmare."

She's already out the door, probably not having even heard a word Nikolai said.

Once the door is shut he turns back to you, a steady breath exiting his lungs.

"Nikolai Lantsov you had better tell me what in saints name you were talking about before I have Zoya throw you so far into the sky you'll touch the stars."

He's still smiling, and giving you that look he always does right before he says the sappiest things.

"It became clear to me a long while ago that no matter what I did I would not be accepted as the Ravkan ruler everyone wants." He takes both of your hands in his now, giving them another squeeze. "And, not so strangely at all, the more I thought about it the lighter I felt. The crown has to go to someone, and as lovely as you are, it brings me great sorrow that those around here wouldnt have found solace in you being crowned ruler either."

And it's true. You were a topic of conversation for no more than two minutes before everyone moved on. You didn't want the crown, and Nikolai was right that the age of the Lantsov's had to come to an end.

"So, I gave the crown to Zoya, because it wasn't all that improbable that they'd accept her after her little display on the battlefield." He chuckles, and you follow along, heart beating hard and fast. "But I would be deemed a liar if I said I didn't have some doubt about it, since it might have meant losing you."

Your blood runs cold. "What?" You want to ask how he could think that, but you were just thinking the same not minutes before. "Nikolai-"

"I am no longer a King. Meaning any marriage I had before means nothing to the people... but it means everything to me." He gets down on one knee, smiling up at you. "I was hesitant asking for your hand in marriage last year because I didn't want to trap you in an arrangement that you found no joy in. But these last few weeks with you where you said you loved me and I've had the joy of showing you I felt the same, have made me feel so grateful that I eventually did."

You could swear your heart was about to explode. You half want to look around the room for a heartrender, convinced someone else is doing this to you.

But it feels so genuine, and it hits you like a pile of rocks why he looked to utterly exhausted that day he proposed.

His lips greet your knuckles, his lashes shiny with what you can only assume are tears. "I will continue to love you, for as long as I shall live, if you will let me and wish for the same."

And suddenly you can't see, because you're squeezing your eyes shut, relief nearly sending your entire system into shock.

You fall to your knees, dirtying your expensive clothes you have absolutely no care for, and grip him into a hug.

"You- You utter buffoon." You sob, tightening your grip on him just as his arms come and wrap around your waist. "Of course I want the same."

That's all he needs to squeeze you against him. You can feel his eyebrows squish together against your neck as he tightens his hold.

If he could completely envelope you into himself, merging your bodies together, you think he would.

If he could hold you so tight that your hearts could kiss, you know he would.

It's a long time before you eventually pull apart, and humor is not lost from him when he does.

"What are you going to do now?" You ask.

He sighs, helping you wipe your tears. "Well considering youre my spouse, I feel like there's an obvious answer here."

You scoff, taking his hand away from your face. "Animal."

He laughs, catching your hand and lacing your fingers together.

"How would you feel about becoming a privateer?"

You look around the room, pretending to think about it.

How would you feel about a life on the seas with your husband? Sailing in nearly any direction you please with goofy hats and guns strapped at your side? Walking the decks with a crew you'd trust with your life and fish and brandy for dinner?

What is there not to love? "I think that'd be pretty fun."

There's hardly anything you can do to make him wait to get back to the palace before stripping your clothes off, the word "captain" coming out of your mouth and sending you both into a fit of giggles.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Tags:

@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[readychilledwine]

Eris Week Day 3 : Secrets | Fire

Cold Hands

Prompt - Does Eris keep anyone else’s secrets? Why? 

Summary- Azriel and Eris find themselves trapped in a cave in the Winter Court. The heir, ever the curious lordling, does not understand why Azriel will not join him by the fire he's made to allow them to keep warm.

A/N - A little platonic Azriel and Eris moment for day 3 of @erisweek2023 I desperately want Eris and Azriel to, at the very least, be friends at the end of the series.

"Then fucking freeze for all I care," Eris rolled his eyes as he lit the fire at the back of the cave, secretly hoping enough warmth would flood to the stubborn Illyrian sitting towards the middle. 

Azriel was visibly shivering as Kallias allowed his court to storm and rebuild as needed. Winters in the mountains had been harsh, but Azriel was male enough to own this was cold, even for him. He rubbed his hands together, feeling the tingling sensation that happens every time they get too cold begin to set in. "Remind me," he shivered again, "why you can't winnow us out of here?"

Eris rolled his eyes again. "I was trapped in faebane, Azriel. I had enough magic to get myself out or start this fire. There's no way I could have taken both of us." Eris sighed sitting down. "I made the choice to stay with you. To try to ensure you stayed warm since you were also poisoned. Evidently that was a waste of my time though." Eris watched as Azriel desperately tried to warm his hands. "Just come fucking sit by the fire." 

The growl from Azriel was enough of an answer. "Fuck off, Eris." The spymaster watched as the heir rolled his eyes again before standing and grabbing his cloak. 

Eris walked to him with a grace that only Rhysand and Lucien could match, holding the wool and fur lined cloak to Azriel. "Then at least take this. No one will forgive me if you freeze to death here." Eris felt his voice soften at the end of the sentence.

Eris had noticed the habit several times now. Azriel avoided camp fires, hearths, wild fires. He back away from Eris while the heir used his magic. He had always thought nothing scared the Illyrian until they had become friends. "Why are you afraid of fire, Azriel?"

The spymaster took his turn, rolling his eyes. "I am not afraid of fire." Had Eris not been lying his whole life, he may have accepting that statement as the truth. Azriel had a tell, though. When the male lied, his left wing twitched.

"You do not lie well." Eris chuckled lightly at the irony. "I will trade you a secret for a secret? Then we both have something on each other." Azriel mulled the option over in his mind. Having a card to pull on Eris would be beneficial to Rhysand, to his court, to himself. However, that secret required vulnerability, something both of the males sitting in the icy cave struggled with.

The heir sat down across the cave from him. Waiting with his brows raised and a neutral expression on his face. Azriel knew he had to capitalize on this moment. He had to take whatever secret Eris would give him.

"When I was younger," Azriel began slowly. He sighed contently at the warmth of Eris' cloak before continuing. "My father kept me locked in a dungeon. I was hardly allowed outside or to see my mother." Azriel stared towards the fire. "My brothers thought one day it would be fun to see how illyrian healing and oil and fire mixed."

He watched as Eris shut his eyes, his jaw tightening. "They put oil on my hands before setting them on fire. My father's guards heard my screams and came, but the damage was done." Azriel pulled off one of his gloves to show Eris. 

The heir's mask had broken as he moved to Azriel and studied the all too familiar burn scars. Anger was radiating off of him. "Where are they now?"

"Alive and serving low ranks in one of the camps?" Azriel almost sighed again at the warmth of Eris' hand holding his. "Your secret, Eris?" The heir took a while to answer. His mind still processing that Rhysand had allowed these males to live after the act they committed on someone he considered his brother.

"I have a wife," the heir stated quietly. "A beautiful little thing. Blonde hair, bright green eyes, high fae. I do not know why I was blessed with her, but she is everything to me." Azriel watched as he smiled. The heir's amber eyes were distant and sparkling. "I keep her safe and hidden in a cabin my father is too stupid to detect."

Eris rose and looked at Azriel's wing. "We will get to her tomorrow when we're ready. She should be able to fix your wing easily. Mother knows she's had to patch myself and my mother up more times than I can count."

Azriel nodded. "Your secret is definitely more valuable than mine. I didn't know you had a family."

Eris nodded. "Very few do. You can destroy my whole world, shadowsinger. Now, please. Come sit by the fire. I would never let anything burn you. I know that pain all too well."

Azriel studied Eris. Another silent confession was made by the heir. Azriel noted the sincerity in his eyes, the seriousness on his face. "Swear it?"

Eris nodded. "I swear it."

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: fear???

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the whole time i was writing this chapter i had the “three little birds sat on my window” song stuck in my head so i named the chapter that lmao

part thirty-four

❝ THREE LITTLE BIRDS ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 3 — 11:43PM

BENTLEY’S BARE FEET SKIDDED ON THE WHITE FLOOR AS HE RAN FULL-SPEED INTO A LEFT TURN, NEARLY FALLING RIGHT OVER DUE TO THE BLIND PANIC HE’D FOUND HIMSELF IN.

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear. The only instinct he could grab ahold of in that moment was run, so he was running; through the white hallways that reminded him so much of Dr. Keene’s lab, the back of his eyes burning spectacularly, because…

Her.

She…

He narrowly missed banging into the wall on his next full-speed right turn. Where was he going? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything other than the fact that he needed to run.

“Don’t be afraid, Babybird,” She cooed from nowhere, directly into his ears, his skull. “You were bound to find me again one day. Don’t act so shocked.”

Bentley pushed himself as fast as he could go, the burning behind his eyes quickly turning to full-fledged tears that started streaming down his face and strangled sobs that ripped their way up his throat. He had to get out of there. He had to get out. He had to-

“Careful where you’re going,”

Bentley skidded into another left turn as fast as his legs could move, blindly.

And as soon as he turned, he slammed face-first into something else — something that had been moving really fast, too. Something that made a muffled sound when they hit, and made a thump on the white floor just like Bentley did.

He forced himself up almost immediately, shoving himself off of the floor so urgently he careened into the wall from the force. Pain was blooming through his veins and muscles and bones but he ignored it. He had to run, he had to-

“Bentley?”

He managed to focus through his terror and tears on the person who he’d rammed into.

Rockie jerked himself off the floor, stumbling a few steps backwards. He wasn’t in a hospital gown like Bentley, but a solid white jumpsuit with nothing on it, the sleeves tucked down into his metal gloves. He was panting, and he also had tears streaming down the sides of his face, too.

“…Rockie?” He questioned. A loud wham erupted from the end of the hall, the direction Rockie had been coming from — so he lurched forward and grabbed Bentley’s arm and pulled him away from the sound, back the direction he’d just come.

“No, no, no, no, stop!” Bentley ordered, digging his heels into the floor and baring all of his weight against Rockie’s grip. “She’s this way, she was behind me, she was-“

Rockie turned to look at him, wiping his furiously watering eyes. “You can see her, too?”

Bentley didn’t say anything.

“My two favorite birds,” Her voice came, and Rockie looked around frantically, as though he heard her, as well. He pulled on Bentleys arm until he was haphazardly placed behind his back, protection that wouldn’t actually help against a psychopath like her. “Isn’t it kind of rude if we don’t invite my third favorite birdy, though?” 

Bentley and Rockie both whipped around instantly, hearts hammering in their ribcages when a bloodcurdling scream from a familiar voice ripped down the hall from somewhere they couldn’t see. “No!”

Rockie’s grip on Bentley’s arm was so tight it was painful, but Bentley couldn’t find it in himself to care. Between the terror and the crying, he couldn’t even think straight enough to focus on it.

“No! No, please!”

Bentley knew that voice. He knew it, and if he could get his mind to obeyhim for half a second, he might be able to tell who it was. But his mind didn’tobey — his heart was slamming around in his chest, booming in his ears, and it felt like his throat was full of cotton that was blocking his airway. He was having to put so much of his willpower into not having a panic attack that he physically couldn’t think about anything else.

Luckily, Rockie’s brain was working a little better than his, because he wiped his eyes with one hand and muttered: “It’s Bellamy.”

Bentley glanced down the hallway, and a new sort of terror and panic joined the terror and panic he’d already been experiencing — the inescapable dread that came along with the realization that she had him. Bellamy. And that he needed to get him the hell away from her.

Shit.

Without warning (or much thought) Bentley wrenched his arm out of Rockie’s grasp and started running toward the screaming.

“Bentley!” He heard Rockie call out, but it went mostly over his head.

Bentley took a few turns, listening dutifully for where the screams seemed to be coming from, and not much later, he heard Rockie’s footsteps coming from behind him. He turned one more time until he was sure he was on the hallway where the screaming was originating — it was lined with dozens of metal doors, all standing open, hall lights off but the dim lights in the rooms filtering into the empty corridor. 

Bentley inched down the hall, glancing into the doors one by one as he passed. Most of the rooms were solid white and empty, apart from the occasional set of chains attached to the floor or ceiling. He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs into something quiet — not that that would help against a girl who fought him inside his own head.

He suddenly realized the sound of their footsteps had thinned to one pair, and that meant Rockie had stopped walking.

Bentley turned back, and luckily, the older boy hadn’t vanished. He was just standing at one of the doors, staring inside an empty room.

Bentley backtracked, walking up to the door he was looking at and peering inside. Bellamy wasn’t in there, but there was a set of chains attached to the floor, and a…

Rubik’s cube? Just sitting in the middle of the room? 

He glanced up at Rockie, who seemed fixated on the little thing for reasons Bentley wasn’t aware of, but he didn’t seem interested or even confused. He seemed like he could be, almost… sad? Or afraid? Something like recognition, nostalgia was swirling in his green irises, but not the good type; and Bentley wondered why.

“No! Please!”

Both Rockie and Bentley whipped around at the startling proximity of the screaming to them — like Bellamy was in one of the few rooms they were right next to.

Then, in one sudden moment that scared them all half to death, Bellamy shot out of the door right across the hallway (hadn’t Bentley just checked that one?) and screamed in terror when he saw them, skidding to an abrupt stop.

He was in the same jumpsuit as Rockie, his brown eyes red and streaming with endless tears. The moment his gaze flicked between them, and he comprehended who it actually was, he dissolved into a bout of quiet, entire-body wracking sobs, lurching forward and grabbing around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“She-she’s gonna k-ill me,” He choked, crying so hard he started coughing. “She’s gonna- she’s gonna…”

“Why are you so scared? I haven’t even touched you yet,”

As much as Bentley hated it, he wiped his (still crying) eyes and forced Bellamy to let go of him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him blindly, quickly down the hall with Rockie hot on their heels. He didn’t know where they were going. Somewhere. Anywhere.

And then all the lights cut off.

The three of them skidded to a blind stop, and Bellamy stayed pressed up against Bentley’s left side, holding onto his hospital gown like he’d float away if he let go. The only sounds that were audible in the dark halls were the soft telltale sniffles that came with all three of them crying. 

Then there was a faint click-click-click sound from right next to them. Then a clack! (The click-click-click clack! of Davis taking off his metal gloves and dropping them on the floor echoed in Bentley’s mind for half a second. Now that he thought about it, Rockie’s gloves looked just like his.)

“What’re you going to do with that hand?” Her voice came, with a mocking tone, confirming Bentley’s suspicions that a glove had been removed. “I’m in your mind. Nothing you do to me is real.”

The arms that were around him tightened, and Bentley looked down into the pitch blackness at where he thought Bellamy’s head would be if he could see.

“But what I do to you, that is real. If I want it to be,”

Bentley turned his head in the darkness when a pained noise came from his right. “Rockie?”

No reply — just dead, dead silence that lasted far longer than he’d have liked. Then came a simple thump.

The lights flicked on, and Rockie was unconscious in the floor, nose and ears pouring blood.

“Rockie!” Bentley tried kneeling down to him, but he suddenly couldn’t move, like his legs and arms and muscles weren’t obeying him. 

Like he was on the roof and she’d slid a noose over his head and he was walking to the edge against his will-

The only thing Bentley had control over seemed to be the fact that he was crying. His arms and legs just moved without him, and he took a few steps backwards until his back thudded against the wall. “Bellamy, run.”

Bentley saw his bloodshot brown eyes for only a millisecond before everything went black again. It felt like he was pinned to the wall — his muscles didn’t respond, none of them except for his face. Maybe because him crying in terror brought her joy?

The lights flicked back on, and she was standing directly in front of him, her face only inches from his, her hands baring down on his shoulders just hard enough to cause a little pain. Her stitched smile looked fresh, but it always looked fresh, and her amber eyes were drilling into his skull with an absolutely manic look about them. Her platinum hair was hanging down, and every time she exhaled, she blew the blood-soaked strands into Bentley’s face.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t try to fight. He just sobbed.

“You’re no fun anymore, babybird. What do I have to do to get a rise out of you nowadays?”

Her amber eyes slid over to Bellamy, who was standing a mere dozen feet away, mortified, staring with tears streaming down his face at a rapid rate.

Bentley tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. “Don’t touch him.”

He saw Bellamy turn to run in his peripheral, so the Secret Keeper let go of one of Bentley’s shoulders and pointed at him. “Don’t move, Birdy.”

Bellamy went rigid, stopped in his tracks — which likely meant she had his body, too.

“Don’t touch him!” Bentley repeated, louder, though it didn’t sound tough when he was crying his eyes out. A maniacal, sinister giggle bubbled up out of the Secret Keeper’s chest. 

“I don’t have to,”

Bellamy was facing away from Bentley, but he started screaming. Not the scared sort of screaming from earlier, but a worse scream, rooted in pain that couldn’t be explained by words.

“Stop!” Bentley shouted, trying his best to move his body even though it just wouldn’t move. “Stop! Do it to me instead!”

“What’s the fun in that?” She laughed. She snapped her fingers and Bellamy fell like his strings had been cut, curling up tightly on the floor with screams and sobs of pure agony.

“Stop! Stop it, please! Why are you doing this?!” Bentley continued with a sob, glancing over at Rockie, who was still unconscious on the floor. “We didn’t do anything to you!”

“If I do recall, babybird, you tried to kill me,” She spat, venom on her tongue, amber eyes boring into his skull. “I think a little revenge is justified.”

“You were trying to hang me!” He cried, eyes flicking to Bellamy, who was still screaming. “Please. He’s just a kid. He didn’t do anything.”

She blinked once, twice, as though she was processing something. Something in her amber eyes shifted. “Say my name.”

Bentley tried to move, to wrench himself out of her grip, but he couldn’t make his body obey.

“Say my name!” She ordered, louder, almost desperately. Then she shouted: “Shut up!” But it wasn’t at him, it was almost… at herself?

“Say my name!” She repeated.  “Shut up!”

Why did she want him to…

To…

Bentley looked at her, choking on a few more quiet sobs. “Charlie?”

The Secret Keeper made a sound akin to an animalistic growl, flinching away from him and clawing at her own face like he’d sprayed acid in her eyes. 

He could move his fingers.

“Charlie,” He repeated, sniffling lightly. Bellamy’s screaming began to subside. 

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll kill him right now!” She spat, pointing at Bellamy again, who screamed like someone had just stabbed him.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie-“

The Secret Keeper covered her ears and roared like some kind of beast.

And then she stopped. 

And she looked at him.

Her eyes began to flicker — between amber and blue. 

“Wake up,” Her voice said. It was lighter, smoother, different. It wasn’t the Secret Keeper, it was Charlie. “Wake up!”

Bentley felt like he’d been shot in the head, like he was falling and spinning in circles at unimaginable speeds. Like he was hurdling through outer-space while it threatened to tear him apart.

A high-pitched ring squealed in his ears, so loud it hurt. White swam in his vision and morphed into a myriad of colors. And with a whoosh sound and a wave of vertigo that made him instantly nauseous, Rockie’s bathroom swam into focus.

Bentley was on the floor, his back braced against the sink cabinet and aching like he’d fallen. He had tears streaming down his face, and it was hard to breathe, like he had cotton in his throat-

Rockie jumped out of his asleep (unconscious?) state on the floor with a shout of terror, scrambling there until he was nothing more than a small ball shoved in the corner against the bathtub. Bentley might’ve said something to him, if he could get air to enter his body, which he couldn’t.

He forced himself to look over at Rockie. His nose and ears weren’t bleeding like they had been in… there. The nightmare, vision thing. (Bentley had been a hundred percent awake when he was pulled into that.. so he wasn’t sure what to call it.)

Rockie had his legs tucked up to his chest as close as they could go, gloved hands laced in his hair with his head down, sobs wracking his trembling frame. He looked eerily small.

Bentley thought again about reaching out, but he was crying so hard he couldn’t get his brain to listen. He just pulled his knees up, too, wrapping his arms around them only to find that his entire body was trembling violently.

“You were… in my…?” Rockie mumbled. Bentley guessed he was about to say nightmare. He wondered how long he’d been in there with the Secret Keeper alone before she pulled Bentley into it.

Bentley gave him a jerky nod.

And then someone across the dorm started screaming.

They finally managed to look at each other, their terrified, wide, crying eyes locking, brown and green.

Rockie pushed himself out of the floor on queue, but Bentley’s body didn’t obey as well as his — he thought about getting up, but he was teetering right on the edge of full-blown panic attack, and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do anything.

“C’mon, buddy,” Rockie hiccuped lightly. “…I gotcha.”

Bentley didn’t fight when Rockie grabbed his arms and helped lift him off the bathroom floor. “It’s okay; we’re not in there anymore,” (Though it wasn’t as reassuring as it could’ve been, given Rockie was still crying, too — but he was managing to calm himself down much quicker than Bentley was.)

Bentley didn’t say anything, he just sort of stood there and let Rockie rub his arms because it felt like literally anything else would send him directly into an anxiety attack. (He had to physically fight the urge to lurch forward and hug him and have a breakdown, but that was okay.)

“I’m gonna go check on Bellamy. Do you want to come?”

Bentley nodded jerkily, and Rockie spent another second rubbing his arms before he turned and made his way out of the bathroom and toward the bedroom door.

Bentley followed along numbly. He had a throbbing headache forming at the front of his skull, and his head already kinda felt all fuzzy and staticky — like being on a foggy road and only being able to see a few yards in front of the car. He did not miss that feeling.

He blindly followed Rockie out into the living area, where strangely, no one was. Varian wasn’t in there anymore, and his bedroom door was open, indicating that Koa, too, was gone.

Rockie wasted no time going straight to Bellamy’s door and swinging it open. They went in, and it took a second for Bentley to focus enough on the room to realize something was… wrong.

Bellamy wasn’t in there.

Bentley managed to grab ahold of at least a little clarity as he glanced around the room. The bed was empty, the bathroom was open with no humans inside, the desk chair was pushed in with no one in sight, and Bentley felt that panic attack threat come roaring back twice as hard as it had earlier.

“Where did he go?” Rockie questioned softly, glancing around the vacant bedroom.

Bentley suddenly couldn’t breathe very good again. He started to hear things like the water in the pipes, and Rockie’s heartbeat, and his own blood moving in his veins, and-

Another heartbeat, twice as fast, pounding so loud it drowned out the rest of the noise, blood forcing itself through veins with a panicked violence. And then the feeling of something else closely associated with it came, moving faster and more freely— tears. 

Bentley let his eyes drift around the bedroom, to the bathroom shower curtain, under the bed, the top bunk, the wardrobe-

It was coming from the wardrobe.

He could breathe easy again.

Bentley, for a moment, just looked at the piece of furniture. It was the exact same one that he and Asten had in their room, a deep wood with a pair of big doors.

“What do you hear?” Rockie questioned, and Bentley glanced over at him, blinking.

“He’s in the wardrobe,” Bentley replied, moving toward the big wooden mass. “I can feel his blood.”

Rockie didn’t say anything. Bentley lifted his hands to the small round handles on the wardrobe, but stopped short and knocked on the front of the door instead. “Bellamy? It’s Bentley.”

There was a moment where nothing happened. 

And then the left wardrobe door creaked open the tiniest bit, and Bentley saw one of Bellamy’s brown eyes peek out to look at him. (Hopefully he didn’t look too terrible, but he was still crying real good, so the odds of that were pretty low.)

Bellamy just looked at him for a solid ten seconds, before the door swung open and he came stumbling out, immediately synching his arms around Bentley’s torso for dear life.

“It’s okay,” Bentley muttered, but it probably didn’t sound too reassuring, given the crying he’d been trying to stifle was coming back harder now that Bellamy was sobbing into his shirt. “I saw her, too. But she’s not really here.”

Yet.

Bellamy didn’t say anything, he just held onto Bentley’s shirt like he was on the verge of death.

Charlie Reins was alive.

The Secret Keeper was alive. 

Which meant something even scarier than her looming presence in Bentleys mind. It either meant that she had immortality, or that…

Or that…

Bruce had lied to him.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[gachawolfiebloom]

Two Hearts In The City of Love

Chapter 3: Hanging Along The Seine

Tags: Love, Love Confession, Romance

BANG BANG BANG

Three's eyelids slowly went open as he turned around to look at the door.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

He groaned and threw the covers over him, hoping that whoever was doing that would get the hint to get lost. Unfortunately, it wasn't working because the pounding on the door got louder and a muffled voice came from behind.

"Smg3! Smg4! Oppeeennnn upppp!"

Three knew exactly who that voice belonged too. "Go away Mario!"

"But Marioooo's hunnngggrrryyyy!"

He sighed in defeat and got up to open the door. Mario was already dressed and in high alert while Three still had messy hair and was standing in his pajamas. "We don't have any food here fatso! Screw off!"

"Mario knows that! Luigi said that he reserved a table for us at the breakfast buffet downstairs!" Three raised an eyebrow. "And did he say what time the reservation was for?"

"9:00 AM!"

"Seriously? It's 6:08 in the morning idiot."

"Well Mario can't tell time and he's hungry soooooo..."

Taking in another long breath, he gave in and said "Fine. Just give us some time to get ready." Mario nodded and went right next door to the girls's room, banging on their door as well. "Meeegggyyy! Oppeeennnn upppp!"

Three slammed his door and went to the bathroom to take a shower. Maybe the faucet would drown out the constant whining. Four was still sound asleep through all the noise. Three came out with his hair neatly brushed and his clothes on. He went to put on his cap and gloves, then went over to the bed and glared at Four for a few seconds.

"Wake up scrub! Mario wants us downstairs for breakfast." Four was taking such a slower approach to waking up that it urged Three to go and dump a bucket of water on his head. Luckily, the blue eyed man was already sitting up before he could go grab it.

"Huh? Isn't it like six in the morning...?"

"Yes, but Mario's just going to keep pestering us until we're up."

Four rolled his eyes and laid back down, covering himself with the blankets. "Yeah...I'm not doing that. Wake me up at a decent time."

Three then lunged his hands to strongly grip the end of the bed and he yanked the covers off Four. "Oi! I did not just spend all that time getting ready to watch you be lazy!" Four rubbed his eyes and stuck out his hands while sitting up again.

"Alright. Alright. I'm up." He slowly stood up, grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom. Three looked over the state of the bed and walked away. He wasn't fixing that. These places had room service for a reason. Four soon came out to put on his gloves and hat like Three did.

While he was doing that, Three's sternness softened as he remembered what had happened between them yesterday. "I'm sorry for snapping at you..." Four blinked and turned around to face him.

"Who are you and what have you done with Three?"

"I'm being serious!"

Four started laughing and said "Sorry. Sorry. I know. I was just teasing you." Three crossed his arms when he heard Four reply back "I wasn't really acting like myself yesterday either. No hard feelings?" He stuck his hand out for Three as he placed his hand in Four's and they slowly intertwined fingers. It made Three blush a little.

"Is Mario interrupting something?"

The two men turned to find Mario leaning against the doorway with a smug grin on his face. "GET OUT OF HERE IDIOT!" Three screamed, letting go of Four's hand in the process. It disappointed the blue man a little. Mario giggled as he ran down the hallway as the two boys watched from leaving their room. "Can he not be himself for 5 minutes!" Three complained.

Four remembered noticing the lounge area in the hotel lobby. "Hey. How about we go chill in the lounge while we wait for everyone to come down to breakfast?" Three nodded and they both headed toward the elevator. It was actually pretty quiet in the lounge. Barely any people were around and they had the couches all to themselves.

Four watched some memes while Three checked in with Karen to see if Eggdog was doing alright, which he was. Soon enough, everyone came downstairs for breakfast and they all went over to the restaurant. The waiter asked Luigi "Good morning sir. How many?"

"8 please. I made a reservation." The waiter found his name and seated them all at a long table with a white tablecloth and plates in front of them. Mario began searching around for a menu, but none were available. "Where's the food? Mario wants spaghetti!" Meggy told him "Mario, this is a buffet. All the food is served over there." She pointed to a bunch of tables with drinks, pastries, and wide assortments of fruit and toppings.

"I wouldn't do that Meggy. Mario's just gonna-" Before Four could say another word, the fat Italian dashed off towards the buffet and started shoving random things into his mouth. "...eat everything." He sighed and got up to keep his best friend under control. "Oops..." Meggy shyly said, rubbing her head.

"Whatever. I'm getting a coffee." Three mumbled as he went over to the line of drinks at a table. Four started pulling Mario away from the table as he begged and screamed like a child. "Mario quit it! You're going to get us kicked out!"

"But Smg4! Mario has never seen so much food in one place!" It was embarrassing for him to have to keep his best friend under control like this so he said "Then use your plate like a normal person and don't hog the food." Mario sprung up and said "Okey dokey!" then went back to grab his plate.

Tari admired the assortments of delicious pastries. There were croissants, macaroons, muffins, cinnamon buns, and decorated tarts that were filled with jams. "Wow! These all looked delicious." She picked a few to sample and got some juice. Meggy noticed the wide variety as well. "This is really high standard. I wonder how Luigi had this in the budget."

"Oh! Bob look at all this! Doesn't it look yummy." Boopkins was licking his lips while Bob was gathering a whole bunch of stuff on his plate. "HELL YEAH! FREE FOOD!" Boopkins stared at him in confusion. "It's not free. Luigi is paying for it." Bob scoffed back and said "IF I'M NOT PAYING FOR IT THEN IT'S FREE!" He went to grab a drink and was outraged with what he saw. "WHAT!? WHERE'S THE BEER!?" It was all just regular assortments like juice, tea, and coffee. "THIS SERVICE IS CRAP! I'M RATING IT 0 STARS!"

Mario was grabbing one of everything the buffet had to offer while Four kept a close eye on him. Soon the plumber realized that his plate was full, but there was still many things he wanted to try. "Hey Smg4! Can Mario use your plate?"

"What? What for?"

"Mario ran out of space on his and he wants more!"

"Can't you just eat what you have and come back for seconds?"

"But what if they run out?"

"Mario..."

"Pleeeaaaasssseeee!"

Mario pleaded with his best puppy dog eyes that rendered Four into surrender. "Alright. Just make it quick." Mario cheered and rushed back to the table to set down his first plate and grab Four's plate. Everyone had gotten their food and sat back down to eat when Three noticed Four had no plate in front of him. "What happened?"

"Mario wanted my plate for extras."

"And you're fine with that?"

"I'm not that hungry anyways."

Three felt kinda bad for him. He slowly slid his plate closer and said "Here. We can share." Four was taken aback by Three's sudden kind act. His eyes then sparkled when he saw that Three had  gotten some pancakes. He grabbed a fork and happily tucked in as they were really good. The bearded man smiled at his partner's enthusiasm for the light, fluffy food and tried some himself.

Not after a few bites of food, Bob complained "THREE'S CAFE IS MUCH BETTER THAN THIS!" Three smirked and said "You're darn right it is!" Meggy shifted her gaze to the one who had organized all of this. "Hey Luigi?"

"Hm?" He looked up from his plate as she asked "Where did you find the money for all of this?" Mario soon came back with a pile of food on the plate that was even bigger than the first. "Are you really going to eat all of that Mario?" Tari inquired with curiosity. "A buffet means all you can eat!"

"Oh, well actually. I was going to share that with you guys." Everyone adverted their attention to Luigi as he shared some big news with them. "While I was getting everything ready for our trip, I found a job opportunity here at a flower shop and they accepted me!" Meggy's perplexed look changed into excitement. "That's great Luigi! Congratulations!"

Tari clapped for her friend while Bob and Mario shared weird glances with each other. "WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET A JOB AT SOME TACKY FLOWER SHOP?" Mario, with a mouth full of pastries, said "Wry wouff Luigi wamt somf fowefs?"

"With the money, we can see all the popular sights of Paris and stay in this grand hotel."

"MY HOTEL IS BETTER!" Bob said, crossing his arms.

~After Breakfast~

Since Luigi had to go to work, the others decided to go down to the Le Marais, located by the Seine. There was many stores to go shopping at and tons of cuisine to try in bakeries. They all went back to their rooms to pack some stuff for the trip and then they set off towards the neighborhood. When they got to a pier by the edge of the river, Luigi waved goodbye to head off for work.

Meggy pulled up a map on her phone and said "Well how about we all split up and meet back here by sundown." Before anyone could agree, Bob started dashing down the street. "Bob! Where are you going?"

"I'M GOING TO PARTY AT A BAR!" It was true that there were some bars scattered around. Boopkins chased after him, calling out "Bob! Wait! You promised to help me find some new anime for my collection!" The two disappeared around the corner so the others probably weren't going to find those two anytime soon. Not long after, Mario began tugging on Four's sleeve. "Come on Smg4! Mario wants to go to a bakery!"

"Now!? We just had breakfast!"

Mario started getting grumpy. He lifted Smg4 up and started running off in another direction down the street. Three looked back at the girls for a moment and then walked off. "Well you have fun. I better stop him before he destroys something."

It was just the two of them now. "Well, there's lots of shops around here. Want to go check some out." Tari quickly approved and told Meggy "There's this one store I would really like to look at!" Meggy smiled and said "Alright. Lead the way Tari." She grabbed Meggy's hand and led her down town.

Bob burst through the door of a bar and yelled "BRING ON THE DRINKS!" Boopkins came barreling through. "Bob that isn't good for you!" He sat up on a chair and said "GET ME A SHOT OF WHISKEY!" The bartender nodded and slid a glass to him. Boopkins tugged on his arm and said "We should go! You promised me-" Bob pulled his arm out of Boopkins's hands and gulped down the entire drink. "GIVE ME ANOTHER!"

Mario kept running with Smg4 until he finally put him down. "Mario! You can't just-" A sweet smell piped his interest as freshly baked goods were sitting in display cases. And when the chefs opened the ovens, it made Mario lick his lips. Four was now under the spell of those delicious treats as the two pressed their hands against the glass to look closer.

Three soon stumbled in himself and found the two boys drooling over the food. "Don't tell me your hooked on this too..." Four looked up at him with an innocent face and spoke in a soft voice. "Please can we get some." Mario quickly followed Four's lead as he dropped to his knees and cupped his hands. "Please give some money for Mario to buy something."

"NO! Now let's go!" Mario's face turned into annoyance as he planted his feet firmly and protested "NEVER! YOU'LL WON'T TAKE MARIO ALIVE!" Three gritted his teeth. "Mario. Don't make me drag your butt out of here!"

"Mario triple dog dares you!"

"THAT'S IT!"

Three threw Mario over the shoulder, but he clung onto the counter. Three quickly noticed and started tugging his legs. "LET GO MARIO! YOU'RE MAKING A SCENE!" Four watched in horror and tried to pretend like he didn't know them when people started staring. Eventually, one of the chefs came over and said "Sir, if you're not going to order anything, please leave."

"I'M TRYING BUT THIS FATSO WON'T LET GO!"

Four dug through his bag and pulled out his wallet, giving him an idea. "Three! Mario! Stop! I'll pay for the treats with my own money!" Mario's eyelids flickered open. "Really!?" He instantly let go of the counter, sending him and Three to collapse on the floor. "GET OFF ME!" Mario quickly stood up and ran into the line. "Yippee!" Four went over and helped Three up. When he noticed that Three was still upset, he waved his wallet around in a hypnotizing kind of way.

"Fine. But you're paying and I don't want anything." He marched over to an empty table, sat down, and tipped his hat over his eyes. Four squealed in excitement and went over to join Mario in line. "What would you like to order?" Four looked at the menu and said "Can I have some chocolate macaroons and a croissant please?" The chef grabbed a bag and took the food out of the display case with some tongs. "What do you want Mario?"

He narrowed his eyes and pointed to a delicious looking slice of chocolate cake. The chef took out a small box to put the cake in and handed the treats to the boys. "Anything else for you today?" Four shook his head. "Alright, your total will be-"

"Get me a tart and a coffee." Four spun around to see Three, holding his head in his hands with a smirk. "I though you didn't want anything." He shrugged and said "I changed my mind."

Four sighed and told the chef "A tart and a coffee for him." He took out his credit card and paid the total. Once they got their food, the two men went to go sit down at the table with Three. "You owe me for this." Three chuckled and said "Next time it's on me." Four bit into his croissant and said "Wow! This is good." Three bit into his tart and was struck under its captivating flavor. "Yeah. I should try to make something like this back home."

Mario was enjoying his slice of cake very much, getting chocolate all over his face. "Thats-a so nice!" Four giggled, but then noticed that Three stopped eating. Upon closer inspection, he had a disappointed look on his face. "Three? What's wrong?"

He looked up at Four for a second and then shifted his gaze back down. "It's just...Maybe my cafe isn't good enough. I mean, business was struggling a few months ago..." Four remembered that time when Three let out his emotions. How he felt like...the worst version of Four.

"I know how you feel. I've had those same doubts about myself." He lifted Three's head up so he could see that Four was being genuine. "But we've both helped each other through it. Right?" He gave a caring smile to Three and he returned it back. "Yeah."

They felt splashes of chocolate hit their checks as Three wiped it off with his sleeve in disgust. "Mario! Chew with your mouth closed." Mario was licking the contents off his plate with chocolate staining his face and clothes. "Mario can't help it! It's so yummy!" Four took another bite of his pastry and said "We better finish before Mario tries to eat our food as well."

"Here it is!" Tari presented a luxurious store to Meggy that was called "Soi Paris Boutique." The outside was decorated with pink and the windows showed dresses on mannequins that had different types of patterns and designs. Meggy rubbed her arm and winced. The idea of trying on all those itchy dresses didn't sound appealing to her. They walked inside and Meggy laughed nervously. "So what do you want to get Tari?"

"Well I heard that there's this really cute hoodie with ducks on it. I just had to try it on." Meggy sighed in relief. "Oh that sounds nice. I was worried we were going to be trying on those uncomfortable dresses I saw in the window." Tari chuckled and said "Oh don't worry Meggy. I won't force you to try on anything you don't want to."

"Thanks!" Meggy gave her a thumbs up and then stuck a confident pose. "Now let's go find that hoodie!" The girls split up to look through racks of clothing. "I didn't realize how many pieces of clothing this place can hold. It looked a lot smaller from the outside."

Meggy then spotted an interesting shirt. It had a squid pattern on it and was at a nice length for training and exercise. "This actually looks like something I might wear. I'm sure Tari wouldn't mind if I tried it on for a quick minute." She zipped off to the dressing room and not three seconds later, Tari cried out "HERE IT IS! Meggy?" The orange haired girl was nowhere to be seen.

Tari did want to try on the hoodie so she called out "I found the hoodie Meggy! I'm just going to quickly try it on! Be right back!" Meggy was doing a bunch of cool poses in the mirror with the shirt. Not restricting or itchy at all. She went out of the changing room and looked around. "Tari?" She heard a curtain swing open and looked in awe as Tari admired her hoodie.

"What do you think Meggy?"

"Tari...you're beautiful..."

"Really? Thank you! So do you!"

Meggy shielded her bright red cheeks with her eyes and whispered "Did I say that out loud..." Tari giggled and asked "You tried something on too?" Meggy looked down at the shirt and said "Yeah! I thought I'd give it a try since it seemed consistent."

"I think you would look really nice training in that! You should get it!"

Meggy felt a little embarrassed. She was into training and Splatfest, not girly shopping. Tari could sense this and told her "Nothing to be ashamed of. You can still like being athletic and like shopping as well. No one will judge you."

"Thanks Tari..." The girls changed and went over to the checkout. The cashier asked Meggy "Would you like to purchase this ma'am?" Meggy shared a glance with Tari, who was smiling at her. She looked down at the shirt and said "Yes. Yes I would."

~A While Later~

It was now sundown. Everyone had gathered back at the pier. The boys noticed the girls coming with some bags in their hands. "You went shopping? I didn't take for you to do this sort of thing Meggy." She shot back to Three "And I thought you didn't want to spend time with Four."

He was stunned as his face turned red yet again. "I..I DON'T! SHUT UP SQUID!" She laughed when suddenly someone hobbled toward them. "WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!?" Bob was swaying back and forth with beer bottles in hand, flat out drunk. "And what the hell happened to you!?" Three questioned. Boopkins popped up behind him and said "Sorry! He had a lot to drink at the bar."

"I DID NOT! SHUT UP GREEN CABBAGE!"

Boopkins looked up, concerned for his friend. "I think we should head back." Meggy nodded and said "Yeah! I'll text Luigi that he can meet us back at the hotel." They all started heading back before Four stopped Three and said "We'll catch up with you guys in a second!"

Three stared blankly at him. "Four. It's late." He covered his eyes with his palms. "I know. I know. Can we just...take a walk along the pier." Mario stopped and said "Oooo Mario wants to join them!" Meggy grabbed him and said sternly "No Mario. They need some alone time."

"But that's why Mario wants to go! He wants to see them making out!"

"WE'RE NOT GOING TO MAKE OUT!" Meggy lightly touched his shoulder and said "Let's just give them some privacy. Alright?" Mario sighed sadly. "Okey dokey..." They followed the rest of the crew back to the hotel, leaving Four and Three by themselves.

Four offered out his hand and said "I want to talk to you about something." Three slowly inched his hand closer to his ex rival's, but flinched. "Don't tell me we're bringing the plane up again."

"No. Something else."

Three grabbed Four's hand and they slowly walked along the streets by the seine. "So what is it then? The conversation at the bakery?"

"No."

"The nightmare you had?"

"No."

"We're finally putting Mario out of misery so he'll stop interfering with us?"

"NO!"

The two stopped and said nothing. Only the soothing sounds of rushing water and twinkling stars in the sky to comfort them. "Three...I..." He noticed that their eyes were locked onto each other which made him shut his mouth.

"I...I'm sorry..."

"What? You dragged me out here for some stupid apology!?"

"That's not all I just..."

"I know you didn't want to come here and I can tell we're making it harder for you so...I'm sorry."

He saw that Three was lost in thoughts. Looking like this apology had just made it worse. "I'll go now..." He started to walk off before Three said "Wait." Four turned around in surprise as Three pulled him closer. "I never said I didn't want to be here. And I never said I didn't want to hang out with you guys."

"Then what did you want?"

"Okay. I wasn't ecstatic about it at first. But this is something I actually enjoy with my friends."

Four, truth be told, was glad to hear that. Things had been quite rocky with them since the trip started, but after today, they actually realized that spending time with each other wasn't so bad. Then his playful antics kicked in.

"You're such a tsundere Three."

"I AM NOT! SHUT UP YOU BAKA!"

He pushed him away as Four laughed. They figured it was time to head back so they walked to the hotel, hand in hand once again. Three still looked grumpy so Four tried to lift his spirits. "I understand if you want to switch rooms. I won't be offended." Three looked back at him and shook his head.

"Nah. I'm fine where I am."

Chapter 4: For Your Amusement

[dethtooth]

Proper intro for my Vbros Oc!!!!

I HAVE A REFERENCE FOR HIM HOWEVER I FEEL THIS GOES MORE INDEPTH…^_^

BASIC INFO :]

Full name; Natrix Starling

Age; 29-30 (give or take afew years)

Height; 5’6

Gender/pronouns; Genderqueer and transmasc, he/it.

Sexuality; Bisexual! No preference or lean.

VILLAIN STUFFS…

Villain name; Disc Master

Ranking; Around a level 4…

Powers; Able to spawn sparks of energy from his palms! Also can create energy that essentially fuels his weapons/gadgets :3

Made most of the equipment he uses is made himself!!! Has special gloves that protect his palms from the energy sparks and also has rollerblades speakers connected to boom energy through and make him go faster. More weapon wise, he uses cd like discs similar to throwing stars and sometimes ‘electrifies’ them with his energy. Also has a mp3-esque device that hypnotizes people around him for a short period of time when music plays!

PERSONALITY??? KIND OF?

Natrix tries to play up the act of being a ‘cool’ villain and above everyone, coming off as a snob or rude often, but underneath all that he’s not any better than your average dork that plays DnD in a basement. He usually puts up this act to ‘protect himself’ but with people he’s closer to he’s alot more playful and lighthearted. Acts pretty nonchalant about most things and like they don’t affect him, but can easily get into long talks about things he finds important to him.

BACKGROUND/PAST :P

Natrix came from a very religious household and one of his only comforts in childhood was his older brother, who moved out when Nat was little. Eventually he would follow the same path and move out as soon as he could and cut off contact with his parents and sister, finding a new opportunity in henching (for the Monarch).

For several years he henched (also where he met 21!!!) until he got tired of having to do others work, leaving to start his own villain career. While researching and experimenting with turning music waves to pure energy, a mishap happened and altered his body. (Around S3-4 of vbros) Struggles with alot of shame related to this, but has tried to move on from it and continue his career.

Not so much past past but I feel its still important to talk about…21!!! Nat became friends with 21 when he was a henchman (henchman 32), and found a sense of comfort in having someone else to dork out about nerdy stuff with. Even after he quit they stayed in contact and became close friends, with Natrix going as far as to do things like sneak onto the Venture Compound to visit him when he was a part of sphynx. I’d like to imagine the two of them got together around the end of season 4 - sometime season 5. They are not “i can make him worse”, or “I can make him better” but some rare 3rd thing where they both help each-other heal and move on from their respective traumas <3

EXTRA!!!!!!

Has a lower back tattoo with swirls and stars!! ^_^

Music is his everything, basing his whole villain motif around it even. Aside from that he really enjoys a plethora of average nerdy things like comics, DnD, and conventions!! Also LOVES 2000s internet stuff and trinkets :)

His bodys a little wonky so sometimes he just has random weird stuff going on…Examples; Glowing eyes in the dark, iridescent veins, sometimes shocking people (on accident) if they touch him, etc :P

Ok blahblahblah NATRIX PIC DUMP ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️