#which is just something so embarrassing that he wouldn’t be able to find peace in the grave

[otakubimbo]

Don't Lose Control

Miguel x F!Reader

Plot w/ porn.

My legally required sex pollen fic as a fanfic writer. @safixiovi requested Miguel so here we are.

You and Miguel are on a mission together and nothing is going right. Your tech is all messed up and now it seems Miguel has gotten sick from something. He felt as if he was losing control of himself.

OB Sticky: I wrote this with one hand in my pants so excuse any grammatical errors and definitely not proofread. Also writing smut make me so embarrassed so if you hate it, don't. <3 Reblogs and Likes welcome, requests are still open.

masterlist

Confusion was written all over your face as you looked at the data on your computer in the universe you and Miguel were in currently. You had been working on tech to detect fluctuations in the multi-verse that could detect where anomalies would appear before they did. It had been doing well for the last few weeks, you were able to detect the appearance of an anomaly in three separate universes. So, the confusion now came with the fact that the monitor was detecting two fluctuations in the universe you were currently in, but nothing was showing up. The two of y’all had separated, you went to check out one of the fluctuations and he went to the other. But nothing, nothing was there in the area that read the fluctuations.

You groan out in the abandoned building that you were in, frustrated at the lack of any appearances.

“It was working so well, what the hell?” You grumble to yourself, typing in code strings into your computer trying to see if you can recalibrate the device that it was connected to get a more accurate reading. As your frustrations grew, your watch started going off for an incoming call. You answer it in hopes that at least on his end there was at least a sighting on his end.

“I’m in a damn field and not a single sight of anything but clouds of pollen.” Miguel’s digital image huffs at you. You groan, rubbing your face in irritation.

“Let’s fucking call it then and find somewhere to stay tonight or whatever.” You say abruptly hanging up on him. He would be able to find you, you knew that, and you didn’t really have the energy to hear his complaints about your tech or whatever he had to say.

Meanwhile, with Miguel.

You really hung up on him, in his face when it was your idea to have the both of you out here testing out your tech. Jess was left in charge while the two of you were gone but still, you had insisted and yet there was nothing here and the two of y’all had been at this investigation all day.  He cursed in Spanish as he coughed from all the pollen he was inhaling. It was everywhere, irritating his throat, eyes, and skin. It wasn’t even that he was frustrated your tech was having what seemed to be issues, it was that you insisted on checking things out separately when he figured the whole reason you wanted him here was to do this mission together, with each other. He had grown accustomed to your presence, to your voice, to your smile. It was all while you were figuring out the mechanics of this new tech of yours. To a certain extent, he was always fond of you, he had found you brilliant, driven, and innovative, one of the few spiders he could tolerate. But things started to change when you came up with the idea for this tech, the glittering in your eyes as you made strides on it. Every new aspect you brought to him, you picked his brain late into the night. The time the two of you spent together increased over the months and he realized that he really enjoyed your company. You brought a certain type of peace to him that he never thought he would get before, he actually started going to sleep more at night because he would make you go to bed which you wouldn’t unless he agreed to also. The two of you had got as close as someone could to Miguel.

Miguel cursed again as he felt his body heating up as he went to the directions you sent him for where the two of you would be spending the night he figured. He assumed he just needed to get whatever was in that field off of him and he would be fine after that. When he found you in the crowded lobby of the hotel, you looked irritated but so damn sexy.

Wait.

Where was his mind going right then? He would have to be blind not to realize that you were attractive. Of course, he acknowledged that about you, almost every spider has mentioned it since the day you joined. But the way you looked right now, drive a man to sin. Your curls were down for once, edges slightly sweated out, your skin held a red tone which made your brown skin glow slightly. It was obvious that you were frustrated with the way your nose crinkled making your nose hoop push up slightly on your face. The way your arms were crossed against your chest pushed your breasts up in a way that had them almost spilling out the top of your tank top, the sight going straight to his dick. His breathing started getting heavy as he gazed at you and then finally caught your eye, having you quickly walk towards him realizing how much of a sway to your hips there is when you walk had him feeling parched.  

“O’Hara, we have a problem” You start as you let out an exasperated breath looking up at him. This is when you notice his appearance, he is red, EXTREMELY RED, looking as if he just took on several baddies right before getting there. 

“Is everything okay?” concern is written all over your face as you gaze up at him, lips slightly parted and all Miguel could think about is what they would look like wrapped around his-----. His thoughts were cut off by you calling his name.

“Yeah, I’m fine, that stupid pollen is just all over me. Irritating” He brushes your concerns off saying a few curses in Spanish.

“Okay, well, they only had one room available because apparently there’s some sort of festival going on and I got the last room that was available at like any hotel.” You say as you shift your bag on your shoulder, which takes Miguel's focus back to your chest. The silver chain around your neck sits right above your cleavage. All he could think about was how high would it bounce if you were to ride his---

Again his thoughts were cut off by your voice.

“Alright, let's just get you to the room so you can get whatever is on you off and I can do some work.” You say as you grab his arm, dragging him to the elevators so you can get to your shared room. You didn’t have any clue what was wrong with Miguel, he never usually seemed so zoned out but you assumed whatever the field he was in was affecting him and his focus. His powers were different than other spiders, so you could figure that it was probably a chemical from their plants that was messing with him. You would have to send it off for some tests to see what it could be.

Once in the room, you tell Miguel to go ahead and use the shower to get himself together after you grab a sample of what was on him to send to Lyla.

“Hey Ly, can you analyze this? It got on Mig and he’s been dazed and out of it ever since we got to the hotel.” You say as you speak to the AI. She gives you a knowing look when you mention a hotel and she hears the sound of a shower in the background. “Don’t start, there’s literally no other rooms anywhere and I don’t want to leave tonight just in case the readings were actually accurate, and two anomalies show up. It wouldn’t be logical to leave just set.”

Lyla knew the way you felt for Miguel, she was there while yall were spending all of that time together. The looks that you took at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the way you would sigh contently while working in the lab with him, and the way you spoke to him when it was just the two of you. Anyone with eyes could see how attractive that man was but it wasn’t just that which is what made you fall for him. Regardless of the way he could come off, he was kind and caring. He may not show it in the ways that other people did but he had such a big heart and was truly thoughtful of other people. The man would take everything on his shoulders just to make things easier for everyone. You admired him, you adored him, and he made you feel safe and understood and cared for. You really liked him, it didn’t help that he was a walking Adonis. His looks were just the cherry on top for you. Everyone seemed to know your affinity for him, except him. It didn’t help that you were always making excuses for his behavior, Jess would make jokes at your expense all the time about it.

“But the two of you sharing a room it seems?” Lyla giggles coming to sit on your shoulder.

“Cause there wasn’t anything else available” You whisper hiss at her, and she just giggles again “Please just analyze the sample I sent”

“Anything for Miguels other half.” She jokes as she fades away, and you just groan trying to focus back on your readings and tech.

Miguel did not want you that way. You knew that, he would never want you that way. He was a serious man with a hard past that never allowed for the option of romance. The multiverse and stopping anomalies were more than enough to occupy Miguel's mind and heart. You sigh, knowing that your affection will never be returned by him busying yourself with your work while he finishes his shower.

While in the shower, Miguel had already cum two times, and nothing was helping. His mind only filled with you and how you would feel under him, on top of him, how your lips would feel, the noises you would possibly make. It didn’t help that he knew you were just in the next room, he could almost feel you. He needed you badly and he didn’t know why it was so badly. For once, it was as if he lost control of himself. The way he needed to feel you, to hear you, to taste you, to be inside you. Mierda. He came again with just the thought of you in the other room, just the thought of you. It wasn’t enough but it would have to be, he knew you would worry if he took too long in there.

As he exits the bathroom, you notice you hunched over your laptop on the bed, fidgeting with your tech with such a concentration on what you were doing. The image made his dick throb. Fuck. His stuttering as he entered the room, caught your attention from your work. You only glance at him as you continue tinkering.

“Are you feeling any better?” You ask, still typing away.

“Yeah” He lies as he attempts to keep his voice from sounding strained.

“Good. I still sent some samples to Lyla to analyze.” You start before pausing for a second, “Since we don’t know what’s going on I think we should try to both sleep with some comfort tonight just in case we get an alert or something. We have been at this all day, so we need some rest.”

It took Miguel a second for him to realize what you meant by what you said. You meant that the two of you would have to share the bed. Together. Sleep next to each other. Together. Together, in the same bed. Together. He could barely contain himself in the shower, how in the hell was he supposed to contain himself sleeping next to you?

“Can you take a look at this while I take a shower? I can’t find anything that is wrong but I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You say only slightly looking up at him and then back down as you finish typing what you were working on shifting to get up while still trying to work.  

“Yeah sure” He attempts not to look at you as you put your stuff down, trying to finish your coding, distracting yourself from your previous statements, attempting not to think about you and Miguel sharing a bed. You don’t even look at him as you make your way into the bathroom.

The only thing Miguel could think about was you undressing in the bathroom, what you would look like as you caressed your body with a soapy washcloth. Mierda. How was he supposed to sleep next to you tonight?? He felt like he was losing control. You seemed to not be affected by the thought of sharing a bed with him, something about that was making him feel more feral. The image of you sleeping peacefully as he looms over you, starting with pressing his lips to your unexpected jawline, making his way down your body with his mouth. He could imagine your breath hitching as you started to wake up at his actions. Would you whimper as he made his way to your clothed cunt? Would you grip his hair as he teases you by licking you through your panties? Would you beg for him?

Mierda.

He was painfully hard again. What the fuck was he going to do? What the fuck was going on? He needed to calm himself down, he had no clue why he was acting like this. He was mumbling curses in Spanish, not even realizing that you had gotten out of the shower.

“Mig” You call out to him softly; he looks like he is in distress. His head snapped to your voice. Mierda, that damn nickname wasn’t helping him in this situation and neither did the way you looked. It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special or particularly sexy, it was a plain oversized shirt and he could see the peak of shorts underneath. That cute expression of concern that you wore, your gaze gentle on him. You called his name again.

“Are you okay Miguel? Do you think we should go back to headquarters? We can always just send some other spiders out to keep on alert.” You suggest moving towards him. At your movements, it was as if he snapped out of whatever spell was on him.

“No, no it’s fine.” He rebuttals, “The tech is too new to trust with anyone else. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You nod at him, still worried about him but going to bed was probably the best option for him right now. The two of you get into bed, laying down on opposite sides, and backs towards each other.

Miquel can’t sleep. Every other minute, he's trying to gently ( as gentle as someone his size can be) toss and turn in his discomfort. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, especially with the way he could feel your warmth even from the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, his excessive tossing didn’t allow you to sleep either. You were worried about him but you know his stubbornness wouldn’t free him enough to tell you the issue. But at this rate, neither one of you would be able to sleep tonight at this so you conceited and turned over with a sigh to face him. He was lying on his back not realizing that you had woken up, it looked as if he was sweating. Did he have a fever? Was he really sick? You lean up on your elbow, extending your hand out to touch his forehead.

“Miguel you don’t look well.” You speak as your hand reaches out towards him, right before your hand lands he grabs your wrist and looks at you with wild eyes.

“Don’t” He says through gritted teeth.

“Mig, please, what is wrong?” You ask so innocently, while all his thoughts about you aren’t even close to innocent. With you so close now, with that look in your eye, Miguel was losing all of his sanity. Fuck it. Swiftly, with your wrist still in his hand he straddles himself on top of you. Your eyes immediately go wide as you feel your body move, looking up at him, you don’t fight him though.

“I----” He starts, panting above you.

“What Miguel?” You asked breathily, fuck you looked so beautiful beneath him. Your eyes find him and they're red. He looks almost feral.

“ I don’t know how much longer I can control myself” His voice is strained as his grip on your wrist gets a little harder. The way he was looking at you, wasn’t something you expected. The look of unbridled lust in his eyes, you could feel it coming off his body.

Your voice barely above a whisper calls out his name.

“Stop, please. You don’t understand how badly I need to ruin you.” He groans as his head falls to the side of your head, his face burying into your neck breathing in deeply with a growl. Your breath hitches in your throat, unable to think clearly of what is going on in this moment. The stoic and controlled man that you had grown to know just told you he wanted to ruin you and the biggest problem was that you were okay with it. There was a newfound ache between your legs while he was speaking to you and now the ache was growing with the way he was breathing into your neck. Fuck it. You roll your hips into his, feeling his restrained bulge twitch with the impact.

“Then ruin me, Miguel.”

His head shoots up at your words, it was taking all of his self-control at that moment to not rip the clothes you were wearing off. He had to be sure he understood you correctly, he had to be sure you knew how serious he was about ruining you, destroying you, making you his own.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, hermosa.” He strains out, unconsciously pushing his hips into you, you let out a small moan at the sensation and Miguel thought he almost came just from that sound alone.

“I do, I want you. I want you to ruin me, Miguel.” You say, a lustful look in your eyes as he’s still panting above you. He was trying to hold on to his last ounce of self-restraint until you said one word. “Please”

That was all it took before he sank his fangs into your neck. You gasped at the sudden pain until you felt him licking the wound he just created making you moan his name at the sensation. His hands are all over your body as he is kissing and sucking on your neck, moving your legs so that he is in between them to grind himself into you.

“Fuck Miguel” You moan as your hips meet with his, “Kiss me”

He immediately abides by your request, mouth meeting yours in an aggressive lustful kiss. Miguel forces his tongue into your mouth as he presses his body into yours. His claws digging into your plush thighs which had you moaning into his mouth as he explored yours. The both of you breathing heavily as he moves again from your mouth to your jaw to the other side of your neck marking you the same as he did on the other side. After he is pleased with his marks he leans up, gazing down at your chest heaving, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. Fuck, he doesn’t even bother lifting your shirt off you as he rips it in the front to expose you to him. The view was better than he imagined, of course, he had seen you in your spidey suit which didn’t leave much to the imagination but this view, actually seeing you bare under him was just too much. He came then and there, not even caring because the next time he came he hoped it would be inside of you, your eyes widened at the guttural moans he made as he came. Without even a moment of shame or embarrassment, his mouth latches onto one of your breaths as he palms the other.

“Wait wait, Miguel did you come?” You attempt to get out during his onslaught on your tits.

“Yes, and I’m going to come again, inside you.” He says as he makes his way down your body to your clothed cunt. He had no shame in his words, as he quickly made shreds of your shorts and underwear, he could live out his fantasies of teasing you at another time. He needed to taste you right now. Before you could even respond to his words, or to the fact that he has ripped all your clothes off Miguel's tongue is lapping at your folds. You can’t help but squirm underneath him, as he’s eating you like a man starved. Fuck was he obsessed with the way you tasted; he knew he was going to have to have this all the time now.  He made out with your clit as your hands dug into his scalp gripping his hair. It was all so overwhelming; you couldn’t even grind yourself against his face as his strong hands held your hips down. You were reaching your peak faster than ever before, you were moaning his name like a chant as you got closer and closer to getting over the edge.

The sound of his name being moaned off your lips was driving him even crazier, his hips pushing into the bed as he starts sucking directly on your clit. He moves one of the hands that was holding your hips down to shove two of his thick long fingers into your clenching waiting hole. It was as if he already knew your body because his fingers automatically found the spot that made your vision blurred. Your body responded on its own as you came, and came hard, squirting all over his face. The squirting caught him off guard, as he pulled his face out of your cunt with a surprised expression.  Oh fuck, he needed to see you do that again, and by the way your walls squeezed his fingers as you did, he knew he needed to see you do it again but on his dick. He freezes himself from the restraint of his own clothing as he comes back to hover over you. You looked so damn beautiful, your lips were puffy from his kiss and he could see the bite marks that he left on you, pupils blown and breath coming back down from your orgasm.  He didn’t give you much time to recover as he grabbed your legs throwing them over his shoulder and pounding into you.

You scream his name as he furiously slams his hips into yours. His hands are under your ass, grip tight as he lifts you slightly to go deeper into you, too deep. The tip of his dick ramming into your cervix with every thrust. You had never been one that could just come from penetration, but the way Miguel was pounding into right now seemed was going to change that. He can feel the way your clamp down on his as the tightness returns back to your stomach. Fuck you were going to come again, you were so sensitive, so sensitive for him. Your nails digging cresent shaped marks into his arms as you come again this time on his dick.

“I’m going to come inside you” He tells you through his thrusts and the aggressive manner in which he said it made you clamp down on him even harder. He spills into you, so much that it starts leaking out as he continues to pound into you. You had assumed once he came again he would stop but he doesn’t, you can still feel how hard he is inside of you as he pumps his cum deeper into you. As the final bursts of his come stop, he pulls out swiftly getting off the bed, grabbing your ankles to drag you to the edge. Flipping your body over and pulling up you on your knees, he shoves your face into the bed as he inserts himself into you again. His pace doesn’t slow down as he ruts into you. It felt like he was even deeper than before. One of his hands moves to your shoulder to pull you back as he slams into you, his other hand moves to your clit to rub hard circles on it stimulating you further.

“Fuck Mig--- im--- im cuming” You scream as you cum again hard, doing exactly what he wanted and squirting. He could feel it all over his hand, making him cum again inside of you. You look back at him as you finish feeling him cum in you, thinking that he must be done. The sight you see behind you makes you know that you weren’t even close to finished. Miguel had his hand that was covered in your squirt up to his face inhaling deeply before he stuck his tongue out licking his fingers. He gets even harder inside you; it doesn’t look like there would be any sleep tonight, he really was going to ruin you.

The next morning you wake up, bruised and sore. Your head was on Miguel's chest and he was snoring peacefully under you. With a groan, you get up as you feel a notification on your gizmo, you had almost completely forgotten that you had requested Lyla to analyze the substance. As you look at the results you feel incredibly embarrassed, mortified. The substance that was on Miguel was some sort of aphrodisiac, so that’s why he was acting that way towards you. As you were getting further into your head about last night events Miguel woke up.

“Your thinking woke me up.” He grumbles as he sits up looking over your shoulder to see what you were looking at.  He reads the results of the substance that was on him and now he understands what you were possibly thinking. You thought he only wanted you because of the aphrodisiac, but with the way he marked you he would have thought you would know that he wanted YOU and you ALONE.

“Hey” He says as he touches your shoulder, you jump back from his touch.

“Hey, yeah so it’s fine you know. We can just forget about everything last night, I know you couldn’t control yourself. Its fine” You ramble on trying to not embarrass yourself further, he gentle grabs your chin as you speak a stark contrast from his behavior last night and some of this morning.  He doesn’t say anything but look into your eyes giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

“It wasn’t just that, I only wanted it to be with you. I only thought about you. Alright?” He says in the most gentle way you have ever seen him speak. A small smile forms on your lips from the reassurance.

“Alright.” You say and he gives you another kiss, a little more aggressive this time. How was this man not tired anymore?! You saw the half-life on the substance he should be done. “Miguel, the effects should have worn off by now.”

“They have,” He says against your mouth. “This is YOUR effect” moving your hand to allow you to feel for yourself how you affect him. Before things could go any further, you get a notification from your new tech and your gizmo that there were two anomalies in this dimension, around the areas that you detected yesterday.

“See, I knew it!” You exclaim as you activate your suit almost forgetting what you were just doing with Miguel. His dick twitches under your hard and you remember what’s going on. “Oh right, uhm this first, and then we can go back to headquarters and I can take care of that for you,” You say with a sultry smile which makes his dick twitch again.

You and Miguel catch both of the anomalies in record time, him being extra careful to avoid the pollen this time. The two of you continue where you left off after you get back to headquarters, immediately both taking your leave which received knowing glances from both Lyla and Jess.

[zayray030]

my flame

Summary: What happens when you take a hyperactive tsundere and a passive tsundere? You get something surprisingly cute. Now what happens when passive tsundere visits hyperactive tsundere at his school?

OR

Ace and Rollo are dating. Rollo comes to visit Ace at NRC. You already know where this is going

Notes: I think I had this draft since like last year??????????? Like girl it was so long ago but all i know is that i saw an opportunity for Ace to get together with this deeply troubled man and i took it.

Gift for @mikariin

Also thank you to mika for writing all these ace fics <3 I thought i would forever be in a drought.

Ace wouldn’t say he felt left out. Neither would he admit it whether he thought so. 

The truth was however, that sometimes he couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt and ever so outcasted from the group when they talked.  

A few examples would be the third years from other dorms. Whilst the others had their ‘own’ senpai of sorts Ace sort of just hung around, none of third years that weren’t Cater or Trey willing to talk or deal with him. And that was cool sure, he didn’t give them much of a chance to like him. But seeing his friends get their hair ruffled and actively cared for by them, just kinda stung. 

Another example would be how often he got paired up with them. For some reason it seemed as if everytime there was an event of some kind he was never with them fully. Meanwhile, they almost always had each other which sorta made it awkward to talk about shared experiences. 

And like yeah, he could open up to them about his life and what not but the unsquashed down fear put a stop to it. For example, how was he supposed to introduce to them his boyfriend. And like, how was he supposed to know if they were still going to like him or not? Ace might like to act aloof and above it all but losing these friends. They were special. 

Ace sighed again as he flopped onto his bed. He was the only one in the dorm. Deuce having gone on a run with Jack, Sebek and Epel. Ortho had also agreed to come to track their vitals when they ran. Ace sighed again, this time slightly annoyed. Why couldn’t at least one of them be interested in fashion, it would make all their sports talk more intriguing, but unfortunately, they all seemed to be more into the activity than the clothes to do the activity. 

“Degenerates.” Ace pouted as he turned on his stomach and unlocked his phone, his home screening facing him. It was a picture of them all, smiling happily, all holding ice creams, with the exception of Ortho who had opted to throw a peace sign. He smiled sadly at the image before going on the messenger app and finding his boyfriend at the top of his contacts. 

He smiled when he clicked on him their messages from last night showing that they’ve been talking about the reasons of their favourite ice creams/ Whilst Ace insisted that Cherry was clearly superior, his boyfriend (the cookies and creams traitor) had argued that cherry flavour was not good in every format and that Ace just had an addiction. He heavily refuted that statement, despite the many cherry related things he had eaten throughout the year. 

You: I’m bored!!! 

It was within seconds that his boyfriend responded to him  and Ace let a smile appear on his face. 

Old man: What do you need from me darling? 

Ace freely let out a giggle as he squirmed in delight without an audience to see his embarrassing reaction to his boyfriends pet name for him. 

You: For you to be in my bed. 

As sexual as it sounded Ace had genuinely wanted his boyfriend to come over to NRC and be with him for the comfort. To see him, to cuddle with him, to kiss him…and yeah also for some sexual reasons but that was beside the point. Ace sighed dreamily imagining being able to bump into his boyfriend on his way to class, exchanging hurried kisses in the rush to get to the next class, make outs in the hallways, cuddling whist studying, the constant reassurances. Yeah, it would be nice to have his boyfriend near him again. The summer they had spent previously feeling all too much like a dream for comfort. 

Old man: Well lucky for you I am. 

Ace blinked at the text before jumping up and furiously typing back a reply. 

You: WAIT WHAT?! 

Old man: Yes. My school is coming over in 2 weeks. I had assumed your  

headmaster had already informed you but I guess not. Can’t wait to see you, my love. 

And in the privacy of his dorm room where no one was there to hear or see him, Ace let out the happiest scream of excitement and happiness ever. 

You: I LOVE YOU! 

Old man: Love you too princess. Now, as much as I hate to, I still need to finish packing some last minute things. Talk to you soon. 

You: love you! bye! 

Ace threw his phone on the bed before getting up to jump on said bed in happiness. His boyfriend was coming! After being unable to see him except for the occasional face time since the winter holidays, he was finally coming over! 

Ace collapsed back onto his bed, giggling still as he panted. Immediately, however, he sat back up and grabbed his phone from the edge of the bed where it had been dangling due to the prior jumping. He then opened the clothes store and began browsing. 

Time to shop! 

However, elsewhere, a certain 11 students all shivered, looking over their shoulder in confusion. For some reason, they sensed a looming disaster coming. 

Why?  

Because the dear boyfriend was Rollo Flamm. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“And just what the hell is taking Crowley so long.” Grouched Leona as the rest of the house wardens, with the exception of Malleus stood. In his stead was Lilia instead. 

“All you youngsters are too impatient.” Lilia chided teasingly but judging by the number of teeth in his smile then it meant that he was also getting irritated by how long it was taking Crowley to respond. 

“Yes well, some of us have duties and responsibilities to get to now.” Reminded an annoyed Vil, hand on his hip as he stared at the door of Crowley’s office in anger. 

“Maybe something happened to him.” Voiced a worried Kalim, much to the endearment of Lilia but the annoyance of the others. 

“All the better.” Whispered Azul under his breath and Riddle, the only one close enough to hear him, privately agreed. Out loud Azul said “Well, then if that had happened maybe we should now consider who to elect as the new headmaster.”  

“Morbid.” Called out Idia from his tablet. 

“One of these days I’m going to drag you to this meeting properly, Idia-senpai.” Declared Riddle with a polite smile before knocking on the door to the office, “And one of these days I’m going to kick this door down.” He got out through a smile. Azul subtly inched away from him as Idia’s tablet whizzed to hid behind Lilia. 

“Allow me.” Smiled Lilia. Just as he raised his foot to kick the door down and shake Crowley for an answer as to why they had to wait so long the door opened and out emerged a smiling, giggling red head. Said redhead was wearing a white headband that has two bits sticking out. He also wore a white halter top with a red and white bomber jacket, ending the look with a mini leather skirt and high-top boots. In his ears were two little cherry earrings and around his neck there was a matching cherry chocker. 

“Hma hm” hummed Ace happily as he held some papers to his chest, a wide smile (yes smile Riddle blinked the sparkles away) and waved at the senpai. “Oh, hi senpai! Crowley’s in there if you want to talk to him.” And without another word he skipped (yes skipped) off to his dorm, taking out his phone from his bomber jacket pocket. 

The house wardens stared at him, blinking slightly, still trying to get rid of the effects of the sparkles out. When they finally did, Leona raised one arm and pointed at the direction where the younger boy had skipped away. “What.” He started, turning to stare at Riddle as if his head had turned into a tea pot. “The fuck. Was that?” 

“I have no idea.” It took a moment for Riddle to form his answer, still in shock by what he saw. 

“That was Ace-san, correct?” Azul asked, taking off his glasses to inspect them for smudges, 

“Yup.” Kalim answered the affirmative, head tilting in happy confusion. Whilst yes it excited him when he saw others happy, he couldn’t help but feel confused in Ace’s case. From what Jamil had told him, Ace seemed only happy when he had pulled off a prank or had gotten out of work, and that was almost always accompanied by a smirk and a gleam in his eyes. Currently Kalim couldn’t see any of that. All he saw was pure and utter joy in the boy’s face as he skipped off…okay yeah and maybe a little deviousness as well, but it was only a little! 

“And I thought the only one who could smile like that was Kalim.” Lilia chuckled slightly, tilting his head as he stared at where Ace had just been. “Interesting.” He smirked. Maybe that little first year had more to him than just a penchant for mischief, 

“Thank god my DEF was through the roof and I wasn’t there to see it IRL.” Commented Idia. 

“One of these days I’m going to get you to speak properly.”   

“Classist ahem.” Coughed Leona, as if he wasn’t royalty but semantics. When Vil turned to glare at him he merely smirked and made his way to Crowley’s office. 

“I wonder if Ace-san finally finished Crowley off for us.” Azul said out loud, hand on his chin as thoughts off taking advantage of the situation made their way through his head. 

“So help me I’m going to collar him if he’s done something…” threatened Riddle as he reopened the door to Crowley/s office only to trail off when he saw the man face down in despair. “Headmaster!” 

The others filed in after him, circling Crowley’s office, a mixture of expressions of their faces. Mainly glee. 

“Headmaster Crowley! Are you okay?” Kalim asked sweetly, looking over the other worried. In fact, he was the only one who showed some time of worry. The rest looked either bored or gleeful. “You look like you’ve realised your actual age!” continued Kalim, ignoring Azul who squinted his eyes at him. Okay, so maybe Kalim was also a little petty. 

“Ah, yes!” Crowley bounced up, smiling happily at his students as tears ran down his face. 

“Stop lying!”. Leona and Vil looked at each other in disgust when they realised they’d said that in sync. 

“What did Ace-shi do? You look like you just spent all night farming to get the limited edition card you’ve wanted since day one only to get a duplicate for another card and then a card from the general starter collection.” 

“Ace-kun is most…persistent.” Crowley struggled to find a word to describe the redhead that wouldn’t cause a lawsuit, accepting the tissue that Kalim had handed over to him. “In any case, Riddle-kun I’m going to need a…favour of you.” It was as if someone had poured over his acid and then added salt from the way he had said those words. 

“A favour? From me??” for once Riddle was dumbfounded. 

“Yes, and not from me?” Azul ignored the look of utter disgust radiating from Leona and Lilia and glared at Crowley. 

“Well since none of your first years are important enough to get themselves roped into half the things Ace-kun does, no I’m not doing a deal with you.”  

Leona, Vil and Lilia hid their smirks behind their hands whilst Idia openly smirked in the safety of his own room. Kalim just soothingly rubbed Azul’s shoulder in consolation whilst the other looked like he was either plotting to murder Crowley or to sign up a first year to befriend the first year group. 

“Okay. So, what is this favour?” asked Riddle, seemingly over his little existential crisis, and was determined to fill out whatever Crowley wanted him to do. 

“I need you to not collar Ace-kun for the next week.” 

“No.” surprisingly enough, the same vigour that went into accepting the favour was used when rejecting it. 

Leona snorted whilst Lilia let out  a giggle. Vil hid his own amusement behind a poorly concealed cough. Meanwhile, Idia was laughing whilst on mute and Azul was still trying to get over his own crisis with Kalim aiding him. 

“Yes.” Crowley responded, already looking like he wanted to end his life. 

“No” repeated Riddle 

“What are you, a sadist?” asked Crowley, mildly disturbed by how unwilling one of his students was to not take away someone magic. He shook his head and stood up moving to the window. “Anyways, yes you are. I refuse to deal with him and his family .” declared crowley 

“Who?” but Riddle never got his answer. Mainly because Crowley had transformed into a crow and flew out the open window. 

“How did he end up being headmaster?” Lilia asked himself, rubbing his chin in confusion. 

“Who knows, who cares.” Leona yawned as he walked out, the others hot on his heel. “Good luck Rosehearts, try not to screw this up. I would so hate for you to be expelled in front of my very eyes.” But the smirk he sent the other said something different. 

“Move it.” Voil roughly elbowed past him 

Riddle ignored the squabbling behind and focused on what he was going to do about his own first year. How was he supposed to not collar him? He made it so hard! 

“Don’t worry Riddle! I trust you!” smiled Kalim and for a moment Riddle was blinded before he gave Kalim a small smile back and nodded.  

Riddle very much doubted it. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Turns out Riddle had no reason to be so worried. Ace had been a perfect angel throughout the week. Ace hadn’t complained about or broken a single rule. Even at the most absurd ones, he had complied and did it to perfection, even putting Riddle to shame once or twice. Had smiled politely and addressed him, Cater and Trey politely and had even stopped antagonizing Deuce as much. He’d even helped him with his homework.  

The entire dorm was afraid. Hell, scratch that, the entire school was terrified.  

He’d witnessed Ace smile beautifully at other dorms including Savanaclaw, Igihide and Diasmonia students. The house wardens for said dorms had approached him, inquiring (okay that was a nice word for what those three had done but semantics) about what was up with Ace.  

Riddle could only shrug and answer that he had no idea. 

He had attempted to send a couple of people to figure out what was wrong with Ace but nobody was willing to talk about the redhead. Saying his name resulted in to kinds of reactions these days. One was a love sick puppy face were they started reciting his every perfection. The other had been running for the hills and screaming. 

Now, Riddle could have gone to Ace and asked him what was going on. Hell, he should have asked what was going on from the start. However, when he had gone to confront Ace, he had turned to stare at the widest, most glittering eyes he had seen and when he had blinked he’d realised that those eyes belonged to Ace. Pride, burned and crumbled, he had hightailed his way away from Ace and prayed that whatever the hell was going on, would end. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“Do you think this is an actual meeting or did Crowley hold it for shits and giggled?” Leona growled as he stared at the still closed door. He looked around and was confused to find housewarden, vices and those who went to the city of flowers trip all crowded around the room. Of course, Crowley wasn’t even there but the lizard was? 

“Yeah? Why am i here? I have a shift in like 20 minutes!” huffed Ruggie from beside him. Leona made a mental reminder to himself to give Ruggie more for cleaning his clothes later on. 

“Maybe he wanted us to talk about a new trip and he invited those from the other trip so they could share what they liked!” Kalim, ever the optimist suggested. 

“And the vices are here because?” asked Jamil, raising an eyebrow at the suggestion. 

“All people, no matter their station in life can have valuable insights!” Kalim sweetly smiled and Jamil returned the smile, with just as much poison. Leona curled his lips at the display and mentally congratulated the two at finally gaining their own set of claws. 

“Okay I’m gonna le-” stood up Ruggie. 

“STUDENTS I AM HERE!” Came a loud voice and they all winced at the sheer volume of the man's voice. When Leona turned to glare and yell back at the volume, he stopped short.  

Crowley was covered in head to toe in what looked like Styx-issued protective gear, was holding his magic cane and whip in both hands and had placed a barrier around himself.  

There was a second before the third- and second-years in the room out their magic items out and glared at Crowley with a look that said, ‘spill or you will be spilled.’ 

“What did you do?” demanded Vil, his voice cold as ice as he stared at the headmaster in disgust. 

“You see,” started Crowley, already itching back and away from the possible blood bath. “NBCarecomingovertomorrowokaybye!” and with that he ran outside the room, getting chased by a  few spells as he did. 

“What did he say?” Kalim tilted his head in confusion. 

“The embassy is coming tomorrow?”  

“To check up on how shit the school is?” 

“You never know! Maybe they want to recruit some people from the school!  

“No one who’s smart is recruiting anyone from this school.” 

Whilst everyone who did not go to the City of Flowers was arguing about what Crowley said, the ones who did go stilled as the realisation about the disaster show that was going to happen. 

Because do you know who’s part of the NBC school? Rollo Flamm. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“…and make sure to show our school off and make us proud!” droned on Rollo’s professor.  

In front of the Night Raven college gates stood Rollo’s school in all their glory, shock evident on their face at the sheer size of the school before them 

“Magnifique.” A student beside Rollo muttered slowly, gawking at the building as if it was the answer to their prayers. 

Rollo refrained from scoffing, finding the entire thing to be tacky and old. Quite frankly the only good thing about the damned place was that Ace was there. 

“WELCOME STUDENTS!” Came a loud voice and when Rollo turned there stood Dire Crowley, in all his feathered glory. 

“Good lord that thing is ugly.” Hissed Rollo under his breath, bringing his handkerchief to his mouth in disgust. A few students that heard him nodded along with his comment, but also mildly fascinated at how extra one man is. 

“We hope you will enjoy our school like we enjoyed yours.” Came a voice from behind Crowley and there Rollo could see was Mozus Trein.  

“I’m sure we will. As long as there are no flaming flowers.” coughed professor Trein behind a gloved fist. There was some awkward laugher before Crowley took control of the conversation again 

“As always, I am so happy to welcome more students to our great school, which has stood here for a century! Please we, come into Night Raven College!” Crowley spread his arms dramatically, showcasing the schools grand stature. 

‘I just want to see Ace.’  

And those seemed to be the magic words as he saw familiar red hair. There was his boyfriend. 

“Rollo!” the younger yelled in excitement and he could see Crowley flinch away in fear at the voice He held in a cackle about what his boyfriend could have possibly done to a grown man before spreading his arms just in the nick of time to catch his boyfriend in his arms. 

Time seemed to stop. There was no one else in that moment except for the two of them, the others just being insignificant weeds who had no attention or drive.  There was an awkward cough behind them but they paid them no attention. Their focus was on each other. 

Ace finally pulled back and giggled, before grabbing his hand and leading him forwards. “C’mon let me show you around!”  

The two took off ahead, leaving the rest of the students and faculty behind. Distantly he could hear Crowley crying as the teachers surrounding him looked upon him with nothing but disgust. 

“Let me show you to my dorm first!” Ace pulled him back to him and Rollo nodded. 

“Of course, my love.” he placed a gentle kiss to their conjoined hands and savoured Ace’s shy giggle. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“So, this is Heartslabyul!” Ace announced, pointing to a large red building, surrounded by a rose bush maze and heart shaped rose trees that the students seemed to be painting. 

“Very red.” Rollo noted “Also, a lot of rose bushes.”   

“Yup! They’re a homeage to the original queen of hearts who was obsessed with roses back in the day.”  

Ace then took him on a tour around the dorm gardens, pointing out where the hedgehogs were, where the flamingos they used as sticks were and so and so forth. Rollo merely nodded again, having to fight back down the urge to take a picture of Ace cuddling the hedgehogs. 

Eventually all good things came to an end when they bumped into Trey, Cater, Riddle and Deuce. Oh, this should be good. 

“HI everyone!” Ace greeted happily, wrapping his arms around Roll’s and nuzzling up to him. “This is my boyfriend, Rollo!” Ace introduced happily, even though he knew the shit fest that was going to happen. 

See, he already knew what his boyfriend did. How could he not? After he had bullied the information out of Sebek, Epel and Deuce he had personally gone to the city of Flowers to bully Rollo for what he had done. But things had escalated and shifted and once poisonous conversations had turned teasing and loving. Glares to concerned and shy glances, cheeks puffed up in frustration where now adorned with a blush. 

He would just have to explain that to everyone. 

“Deuce come with me. Rollo stay here and talk to my upperclassmen.” he gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek and then grabbed deuces arm and dragged him into a quiet corner. 

It was time...to talk about...feelings. 

UGH. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“Listen here you rat.” hissed Riddle, pointing his staff at Rollo, much to the surprise of the two from his dorm who had jumped at the tone of his voice. “You will undo whatever dark magic you have placed my card soldier under or so help me i-” 

“You truly believe I would use something as primitive and worthless as...magic?” the man sounded disgusted at the mere thought. 

Trey and Cater raised an eyebrow at the other and looked at each other and then back at him. “Not to be captain obvi, but aren’t you...” Cater gestures to all of Rollo, trying to gesture what he means.    

“Trust me I am well aware of the curse that runs through my veins, as much as I hate it, I cannot do anything about it.” 

“Not like you didn’t try.” Rollo and Riddle glared at each other, before Rollo continued on. 

“Listen here, Rosehearts. Whatever contempt I might feel for magic, doesn’t overshadow my feelings for Ace. I intend to treat him right and a person. Unlike you, I have stopped viewing people as possessions.” he sneered at Riddle behind his handkerchief that he had taken out. “I would suggest you start focusing on making Ace feel wanted within his own dorm, then worrying about those who truly care for him.” 

“Why you-!” 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

“And he’s treating your right?” asked Deuce, for the nth time since Ace had dragged him over to the corner to talk about...feelings. 

“Yes.” Ace replied, trying, for once, to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He knew that Deuce was trying to be supportive and protective in his own way and he also understood that dating somebody with Rollo’s....history was also incredibly questionable so he could deal with the prodding and the questioning. What he can’t deal with is Deuce trying ad trying to hug him. Absolutely not. 

“...So, you bullied him when you first met him?” Deuce raised an eyebrow, smirk in place as Ace mirrored with his own. 

“Oh, so much, you’d actually support me for it.” they both laughed as Ace explained the pranks, the pointed words and the glares that he had subjected Rollo to when his family had decided to vacation there briefly for spring. 

“Well, as long as he knows his place and where he stands, I’m happy for you Ace. Really.” Deuce tried to pull Ace in for a hug which Ace reluctantly accepted. 

What?! So maybe he was feeling happy that Deuce accepted his relationship with Rollo? So damn what? 

“We should probably head back before they think you killed me.” Ace tried to extract himself from the hug without seeming insensitive. 

“Huh? Why would I kill you?” Deuce tilted his head and Ace sighed. 

“Sometimes, I truly do worry about you loosey Deucey.” Ace threw an arm over the youngers shoulder before dragging him back to their senpai, ignoring Deuce’s squawk of irritation. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

When Ace and Deuce finally got back to where they had originally left their upperclassmen, Ace isn’t going to lie, he had excepted a battleground or a warzone to have taken place. Instead, the place was still clean and tidy, as if it didn’t know the word battle, and everyone was unharmed, even if Housewarden Riddle looked like he was very much read to punch Rollo in the face. 

“So, you all talked?” 

“It was a very... enlighting conversation.” Riddle got out through forced teeth, unable to stop himself from glaring at Rollo. 

Truthfully, the conversation had been enlighting. Whilst Trey and Cater restrained him Rollo had spent the 20 minutes that Ace was away beating Riddle for his treatment off the redhead which had caused Riddle to have a few existential crisis, and from the looks of it Deuce had had a couple as well. 

“Hey Acey!” Cater waved, 

“Hi senpai!” Ace waved back before trotting over to his boyfriend and wrapping an arm around his arm and pulling him down so he could press a kiss on his cheek, “What did you guys talk about?”  

“A conversation for another time, my flower.” Rollo pressed a tender kiss on the side of his head, amused by the flush on Ace’s cheek at such a gesture. “Now, you were going to show me around?” 

Ace finished off the rest of the tour, merely citing where the bathroom, kitchens and living spaces where (also a few, ahem, secret rooms for later) 

The tours around the rest of the dorms where much shorter. He would only pop in to say hello to a first year (Who, apart from Jack and Ortho, all looked like they wanted to slaughter Rollo, Sebek most of all) and his basketball teammates. Overall, despite the fact that Diasmonia tried to roast his boyfriend alive over what happened on their trip, everything worked out fine. 

They even bumped into Crowley a few times, and the man looked like he aged every time he saw the two of them, much to the amusement of literally everyone in attendance. Unfortunately, birdman gets his comeback later on at all the hushed snickering. 

“I am making this announcement to inform you about a ball that will be hosted later tonight to welcome the students who have travelled out here today! Attendance in mandatory!” 

So, whilst Pomefiore students were stressing out that they hadn’t done the appropriate skin care necessary or didn’t have the right dress or suit for the occasion, and whilst Savanaclaw stressed about having to attend a ball of all things and the mini fish mafia lamented over not being able to be the ones hosting the food, Ace hid his excited smile. 

“Is there anything wrong, my flower?” Rollo asked, leaning down and cupping Ace’s cheek in concern when he had noticed his boyfriend go quiet. 

“No, nothing!” Ace had reassured him, leaning up on his toes to get a kiss. “Just excited for tonight's ball!” he answered. 

Rollo also leaned down, and the two of them shared a sweet, short kiss, mindful of the glares that they were receiving from above, below and side to side. “Can’t wait to see you in whatever you wear. I’m sure you’ll look exquisite.” he whispered the last statement into Ace's ears, pleased by the little shiver from the redhead and the slow reddening of his ears. 

“Just make sure you wear something red.” Ace told him. “Now, I need to go get ready!” 

“Already?” 

“Yes! Go wait with your school, i don’t want anyone to attack you.” Ace urged protectively and Rollo had to restrain himself from squeezing his boyfriend due to how cute he was being. 

“You worry too much.” Rollo coughed behind his handkerchief but was secretly pleased. “Now, i do hope all this time away from me will be worth it!” he whispered into Ace’s ears again and chuckled when Ace smacked his chest away, harumphed and walked away back to his dorm, blush spreading down to his neck. 

Rollo took this time to go back to his own school and peers, just in the nick of time as he felt a spell wiz behind his ear. Behind him he could hear scuffling and someone being shoved with others insulting the person who had missed. 

‘Ugh, magic’ Rollo rolled his eyes, ‘So primitive and crude.’ 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

One thing about Crowley, no matter how cheap he is, he’s also fancy. The grand hall was decorated with beautiful decorations, flowers were in every corner, the tables, covered with a dark purple cloth, were covered in eggs, ranging from eggs to chicken to cakes. Rollo would quite frankly prefer to observe all the decorations as he waited for his boyfriend but since when does he get what he wants? 

“Rollo Flamm.” Malleus Draconia’s imposing figure towered over him menacingly with Azul Ashengrotto and Idia Shroud flanking him on either side. “Whatever curse you have placed on Trappola you will undo and you will-” 

“Ace isn’t under a spell.” Deuce interrupted Malleus. He was holding a plate just full of devilled eggs. “He and I talked about it and even though Mr Flamm is clearly psychotic and needs to go to therapy, he makes Ace happy and isn’t mind controlling him.” 

Rollo felt a vein throb as everyone snickered around him. “Thank you, Deuce Spade. Your words mean so much to me.” he thanked through gritted teeth 

“You’re saying Ace-shi is willingly dating this dweeb?” Idia asked, pointing a thumb at Rollo. It was a large surprise to everyone that he had come to such a social event, without even needing Ortho to force him to do so.  

“I agree!” Azul nodded, looking sad for the redhead. “I’m sure Ace-san can do better. I, ever so benevolent am willing to-” 

“Absolutely not.” Rollo and Riddle snapped at the same time, before glaring at each other. 

“What on earth is going on here?” asked a blonde in a purple, floor length gown. So, this must be the model Vil Schoenheit 

“Ace is getting mind controlled by this shit eatin-” 

“Epel Felmiere hold your tongue!” snapped Vil, looking horrified by Epel’s mouth. 

“He isn’t wrong!” argued Sebek in Epel’s defence. “This disgrace to the magical community-” 

“Listen. I absolutely hate all of you here, not a single one of you has earned my respect in anyway.” Jamil and Ruggie flipped him off with glares. “However, Ace, after subjecting me to numerous pranks, glares and many other things has made me fall in love with him-.” 

“Are you a masochist?” asked Leona, raising an eyebrow. 

“I can squeeze you if you’re into that.” 

“-Anyways.” Rollo growled, glaring at the two who merely gave him nasty smiles. “Ace is easy and so hard to love. No matter how much contempt for magic I may have, Ace will always be at the centre of my world.” 

“Excuse us for being concerned about out friend dating a psychopath.” huffed Epel, crossing his arms and pointing his tongue at Rollo, much to the annoyance of Vil and Rollo. 

“Look, I don’t care what-” 

“WOW.” 

Everyone turned at what would cause such a commotion and Rollo felt his heart jump to his throat. He could feel his heart skip a beat. He could feel himself ascend to the heavens. Ace was Stunning 

Ace was in a floor length gown, that trailed behind him. The gown was a deep wine red, a classic ace colour, and was in a sweetheart neckline, which has small little rubies encrusted on it. Th dress had angel sleeves which flowed around his arms beautifully and made him seem like a classical painting. His eyelashes were curled and were adorned with a small gem, and his eyes were painted with a beautiful maroon colour that made his red eyes pop. His lips were a pouty pink colour and many wanted to be the ones to kiss the colour off.  

He looked incredible. 

“Hi.” Ace waved shyly, much to everyone surprise, not used to seeing the usually arrogant first-year so docile. “How do I look?” he asked, gesturing to all of him. 

Rollo didn’t answer his boyfriend straight away. Instead, he took in the site of the redhead some more before tipping the youngers chin and pulling him into a deep kiss, fully ignoring the sensation of angry hornets plotting their revenge from afar. “Exquisite.” he said after pulling away, delighting smugly in the way Ace blushed. “Now, will you join me for a dance, my flame?” 

“Sure, why not.” Ace could have pulled being nonchalant had he actually looked up at his boyfriend and didn’t resemble a tomato. 

Rollo held back from laughing or making any comments and instead took his boyfriend by the hand to the centre of the dance floor and let their bodies guide them. 

The two danced away, ignoring the jealousy, confusion and anger coming from all around.  

Tonight was about them. 

[ilikestuff69]

Live Action ATLA Rant

(Spoilers obviously)

tw: mentions of abuse

(If there is a better way to word that trigger warning or if I missed anything please let me know)

This rant is gonna be about the Agni Kai against Zuko in Ozai in the live action adaptation of Avatar: the Last Airbender.

Now first off I want to say I’m well aware that adaptations will change things and I am all for that as long as the change makes the story better. Like I love the changes made to Bill and Frank and Henry and Sam in the Last of Us adaptation. But I will complain if the changes made weaken the story being told. And that’s what happened with Ozai and Zuko’s Agni Kai. So here are my reasons as to why I don’t like the changes made. (Also if you like the changes made, that’s totally fine, this is just for me to rant about something bugging me).

1. Zuko fights back in the Agni Kai. Now this is gonna probably be the most of the rant so let’s break it down.

- Zuko wouldn’t have been banished: in the original Zuko was banished because he literally refused to fight in the Agni Kai and it was seen as dishonorable and an insult to the Fire Nation. But having him fight back is him engaging and honoring the Fire Nation tradition. Yeah, he lost, but he wouldn’t be banished for that. When Zuko and Zhao have their fight and Zuko wins, Zhao isn’t exiled, Zuko wins and gets to put Zhao in his place. Losing is not dishonorable and Ozai shouldn’t have been able to banish him for that. But that’s very nitpicky, I’ll be honest about that, so let’s move to the next point.

- It takes away from Zuko’s character arc. Zuko isn’t a violent person. He was raised by his mother to be kind. He stood out in his family because of this. So when the Agni Kai comes, he refuses to fight his father and is marked and banished for doing so and the only way to earn his honor back is to find the Avatar, which is a seemingly impossible task to do. Being banished and abandoned by his family (besides Iroh) leads Zuko down a dark and violent path searching for the Avatar for years because he’s been to led to believe that violence is the only way his family will forgive and accept him. Then, in season two, Zuko and Iroh are branded traitors for helping the Northern Water Tribe which causes Zuko’s search for the Avatar to stop. While in hiding, Zuko sees firsthand all the damage the Fire Nation has done to the other nations. Also him and Iroh are able to set up a pretty normal life for themselves and Zuko actually seems happy. But then, when Azula promises that Ozai will be proud if Zuko helped her kill the avatar, Zuko relapses back into his violent tendencies and helps Azula, betraying Iroh in the process. When it appears that Aang had been killed, Zuko is welcomed home and crowned the prince of the Fire Nation once again. So he’s happy now, right? He got everything he wanted, right? No he’s not happy because he realizes that this isn’t actually what he wants. In fact Zuko hates himself. He hates himself for allowing and contributing to all the violence the Fire Nation is committing against the other Nations. He hates himself for betraying his uncle, the only person in his family who actually wanted to help him. He hates himself for doing all these awful things just to earn the approval of his father, a man who saw Zuko as an embarrassment for just being who he was. He hates himself for forgetting what his mother taught him and becoming more like Azula and Ozai. That’s why, when Zuko turns on Ozai, he tells him that the Fire Nation needs to enter an era of peace and kindness to make up for the era of violence they’ve been in for years, but they can never do that as long as Ozai is the Fire Lord and that’s why Zuko joins the Avatar and help him take down Ozai. Zuko wasn’t violent growing up. He wasn’t like Azula or Ozai. He stood out because he was kind. Ozai saw that as a weakness and when Zuko begged to not fight him, Ozai saw Zuko as an embarrassment who needed to be punished causing Zuko to go down the path he goes down in the series.Having Zuko choose to fight Ozai in the Agni Kai feels like it negates so much of that.

- Zuko almost wins. In the live action adaptation, when Zuko fights against Ozai, they imply that Zuko is strong enough to beat Ozai. I’m sorry, what? Compared to Ozai, Iroh and Azula, Zuko is arguably the weakest firebender in the family. He learns sword fighting so he didn’t have to only rely on his firebending. How is Zuko able to almost beat Ozai in a one-on-one? It also just looks bad from a writing standpoint. In the first season, you are showing that the main villain could easily lose to his son? Ozai should seem unbeatable. When Aang fights Ozai in the finale, Aang almost loses to Ozai until Aang accesses the Avatar State. Ozai shouldn’t be almost losing fights to children who don’t have god-level powers.

- There was a better way to have a fight if they wanted to have a fight. If the creators really wanted to show more of a fight between Ozai and Zuko, they should’ve had Zuko stay on the defensive for the whole fight. Have Ozai be relentless against Zuko as Zuko is just barely able to avoid or block the attacks, while trying to get his father to stop. Not only doesn’t it make Ozai look more ruthless, but it makes you feel more for Zuko as this child tries desperately to stop his father from hurting him only to inevitably fail. And you can still have Ozai express disappointment in Zuko for not even trying to fight back, seeing it as Zuko disrespecting their tradition. But idk, I’m not a writer.

2. They make Ozai look sad when he burns Zuko’s face. I’m sorry, but why are we trying to make Ozai look sympathetic? He’s an abuser. He’s actively choosing to burn his child. He’s not doing it because he’s forced to or anything. It was his decision. Sometimes villains don’t have to be complex to be good. Ozai is an evil man who abuses his children constantly. He doesn’t get to look remorseful as he’s doing it.

3. The Agni Kai was so much smaller in the adaptation. In the original, the Agni Kai took place in front of hundreds of people and this is important to Zuko’s character because not only was he punished and exiled for how he acted in the fight, but he was also humiliated as all those people watched as his father punished him for wanting to not fight his father. Making it such a small event just makes it feel less impactful than it could’ve been.

4. Having Iroh speak out against the Agni Kai takes away from his character. (This is also kinda nitpicky but that hasn’t stopped us before so why should it now?). In the original, Iroh not speaking out or trying to stop the Agni Kai is something that he deeply regrets. He watched as his nephew was humiliated in front of hundreds of people and didn’t do anything to help him. That’s why Iroh is with Zuko for a majority of the show. He knows Zuko. He knows who Zuko was before the Agni Kai and why he’s been acting the way he is while looking for the avatar. He felt like he let Zuko down and wants to help Zuko get what he needs. It’s why Iroh never chooses leaves Zuko side and having Iroh try to stop Ozai just lessens that a little bit for me.

To wrap it all up, i think the changes made to the Zuko and Ozai Agni Kai in the live action adaptation of ATLA aren’t good changes and weaken a lot the characters involved in the scene. But that’s just my opinion.

(Sorry if some of this was wrong or didn’t make sense, I’m writing this at midnight and just kinda going off memory for some of the details).

((Also, If you actually read all this, you’re awesome btw. Have a nice day!))

[mercy-thompson-fanfiction]

Leah and Bran's conversation after the events of Wild Sign

A/N: I had this one already drafted and just never posted it because I literally hate how much I find Bran fascinating as a concept. Like, we all recognize that he did technically do this twice that we know of right? Anyways, he's devolving and I think we can all agree that's fine. ETA: link at bottom to AO3

“You love me.”  The words felt wrong on her tongue. It came out so much flatter and emotionless than she had meant for it to, but she was tired. 

The weight of two centuries being closed off and held at arms length was bone-crushing. Two centuries. Two hundred years she had felt nothing and now even something that should have felt normal—would have felt normal to any other mated werewolf—felt like a tsunami.

“You only want to apologize because I remember.” Everything in her wanted to turn away, but something was forcing her to stay with her feet planted firmly where they were. 

He was thinking too much if he wasn’t responding, gauging her reaction and trying to analyze the best possible outcome. That was what he did always, though usually he was quicker. 

“Unless you refuse to even give me that.”  

“Greatly wronged,” was what he had said, “I don’t want to lose you”.  Manipulation at its finest, he never would apologize. 

There was so much to unpack and Leah didn’t quite think she had the energy for it. She had remembered nothing until that split-second moment of death. Then she had known and it felt as if she’d never failed to know. Like her body had always remembered even if she had not always been able to recall it.  Confessing to her then would have given her power. Admitting he had done wrong would have been too kind. 

I love you.  The only one she could remember loving before these last few days. 

“I don’t forgive you.”  

It was ridiculous. It was against her character. The tears in her eyes clouding her vision betrayed her insecurities more than anything else did. The embrace he met her with wasn’t kind or loving, it wasn’t there for comfort. It was a restraint because she had punched him, half unaware of when she’d made the decision to even swing. 

“I deserved that.” His agreement wasn’t helping, it only made her feel undeniably insane. 

Even in his grip, she couldn’t stop. She shoved at him, only vaguely aware of her own voice. 

Screaming. She was screaming and most of it wasn’t actual language, just noise for the sake of an outlet. The other bits and pieces were senseless—thoughts crossing her mind too fast to process. She screamed because he had stolen her chance at peace, because his children hated her, because he had made her feel less than, because he had ruined her. She felt ruined. There was no way to leave, even if she did want to. He had manipulated her then and he was using her now, using her own emotions against her. Using his feelings which he had kept hidden under lock and key to make her happier. 

She wasn’t happier. 

He had been in the doorway, hadn’t passed into the room at all initially.  She had crossed into his space and hit him and he’d grabbed her and squeezed, catching her hands between them where she was still pushing even as he stepped into the room and slid down the wall until they were in a heap on the floor. 

The tears hadn’t stopped, traitorous fiends, and what few words were still tumbling out of her mouth didn’t even make sense to her. There was no attempt at hushing her, just acceptance or maybe resignation.  

Once, very early on, she remembered him telling her that there was no way he could hurt her. His wolf wouldn’t let him.  Bullshit, she bit him to stop herself because she was making a ruckus and embarrassing herself but neither his his nor the taste of his blood made her recoil. It did give her enough satisfaction, however, to draw a trembling breath before she fell limp altogether in his arms and rested her forehead on his now-bloodied shoulder.

“You hurt me.”

“I recognize that,” He was still agreeing with her and that alone was unnatural at best. “If you would like me to, I will do better.”

If she would like? She wasn’t very sure what she’d like, but that seemed an appropriate starting place. He should do better, should have been doing better this entire time if he thought she was worthy of his affection and appreciation. 

Because she’d said it was love, what she felt from him, but was it? Was it anything more than recognition that she was good at her job, at her role as his mate. 

“You have every reason to doubt me—“

She moved her hand from its place between their bodies to touch a finger to his lips and closed her eyes. Her body was still shaking, her head still on his shoulder. She should move, there wasn’t really a world where she wanted to wake up and actually have the conversation they needed to have. Right now, she needed to unpack it all. 

Alone.

“That is…understandable. I can give you a day to think about it.”

One day to unpack two centuries of abuses. 

How generous. 

[koogl001]

Part 2 would be lovely.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

This is part 2 of the Damaged Mind Headcanon

Part 1 HERE Part 3 HERE

When you woke up in your room, you instantly knew that what happened wasn’t just a dream

It felt too real, and too terrifying

You jumped when a gentle knock came, you didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, you were too emotionally and psychically drained

 But even without your permission, Alastor entered your chambers with a worried look on his face

He knew what happened, he suffered from panic attacks all the time when he was a child due to his father abusing him and his beloved mother

He could hardly taste it, the fear that was radiating from you yesterday evening, and he didn’t like it one bit

Who knew he was able to feel sympathy?

Definitely not you

You buried your face in a pillow, the weight f the situation and the embarrassment too much for you

You didn’t have the energy to talk, all you were able to produce were small “hmm”s and even that was tiring for you in your current state

Alastor, in a soothing voice, reassured you that your problems were something you could work on and overcome, and that he would not inform Charlie nor anyone else

But what he didn’t promise was not using this to his advantage

He was looking for a way to have you all to himself and this was his golden ticket

If he could gain your trust and use your paranoia to convince you that the only way for you to be safe is to take you to his home, a desolated place with not a soul anywhere nearby and lock you up there for you “protection” then he could and would be the only one to have access to you

And that is exactly what he would do

He’d make it his duty to point out any threatening traits the others possessed, to tell you that you were easily disposable to Charlie whom could just find another employee, that Vaggie didn’t trust you and wouldn’t hesitate to “dispose” of you if she felt it was necessary, that Angel was an ex-mafia member who could turn on you in a minute, that Husk could not care less about your safety and would not think twice to kill/sacrifice you to save his own skin, that Niffty whom was handling most of the cooking could slip you a poisoned meal without you realising till it was too late

He was the only one with the power and the actual intent of protecting you, he told you

But you couldn’t just take his word for it, so you did what only seemed logical to your dishevelled mind

You made a deal with him

You played right into his hands without realising

He would protect you no matter what and would never allow any harm to come your way in exchange for your absolute obedience

Hey, what is the worst thing he could possibly ask of you anyways?

He took you to his home under the pretence of retrieving some important stuff with which he would need your help

He told you the place was isolated, and it would be virtually impossible for anyone to stumble upon it, making it safe from any intruders and possible threats you could face as the Happy Hotel staff

You kinda liked it there, it was extravagant just like its owner, there was a calming quietness, it was far from other sinners, and it had the biggest library you have ever seen in your life

Alastor had you absolutely hooked without your knowledge, all he needed to do now was to reel you in

“You know darling, I’ve been thinking of moving back here instead of staying at the Hotel. Wouldn’t you agree it’s so much more peaceful here?”

Of course you agreed, this could be your safe haven, the place where you wouldn’t have to look over your shoulder every two seconds, the place where you could forget your fears and start living again

“And it would be only natural for you to come with me so I could protect you, no?”

Right, if he was here and you were at the Hotel and something happened to you, how would he even know?

This made sense, it absolutely did, you convinced yourself

You needed to stay by his side, you weren’t ready to die

He had you trapped and yet, you felt finally free

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 30: blindfolded / obsession / gift

Day 30 for @augustofwhump.

Life has decided to be hectic but I'm so close to the end, so we're going to free style it on the order and post them as soon as their ready.

Day 29 comes tomorrow hopefully.

Back to Caged Founder, but not for the last time this month.

follows on sometime after resigned obedience

Tristan has a gift that forces Elijah to think of his place.

----

Elijah had been enjoying a peaceful if boring evening in his office until a presents had slipped in and settled behind his chair.

“What are you working on now?” Tristan asked as he leaned over his shoulder, he had been watching Elijah write for several moments now but he seemed to reach his patience end.

“Food banks.” Elijah answered without looking up he wanted to finish his newest proposal before giving Tristan the attention he desired, he was still annoyed by Tristan and Aya taking over his plans for Mystic Falls.

Really?” Tristan snorted.

“Yes.” he replied curtly as he reached his conclusion of his piece, “some of us remember growing up hungry; we can't all have servants.”

“I hunted.” Tristan huffed. “Besides with your father, Finn, you and your younger brothers’ you can’t have gone hungry much.”

“Father’s rules, from the moment he started taking us hunting we only ate what we took part in catching.” he explained, during the summer only, in the winter they had shared what they had collected but father had never had an issue with reducing their share if they had disappointed him.

“He started that for your brother.” Tristan mused likely meaning Niklaus, normally he wouldn’t have been wrong most of Father’s stricter rules had been started to spite Klaus but not this one.

“Me actually,” Elijah confessed as he placed the pen down, he had hesitated twice in front of father, not wanting to kill the deer in his sight, the bruised father had dealt him took weeks to fade. He had learned to stop hesitating when Father started using the same rules for Niklaus and Kol, Elijah was always the better aim and he couldn’t face letting his little brothers go hungry.

“So what can you do for you this evening, My dear lord Martel?” he asked, twisting enough to see as Tristan failed to hide his reaction at the address, his open smile widened into a true smirk at the sight and the annoyed-embarrassed glare Tristan sent him as he noticed.

“Close your eyes." He's told a moment before one of Tristan’s hands covered his eyes for him, he sighed and allowed Tristan to do as he wanted, apparently just to lift the hand he had been writing with and slip a ring onto his index finger.

After a few seconds of darkness the hand was removed to allow him to see.

“What is this?” he asked, flexing his hand, the ring looked simple enough, nice but not the over ostentatious Tristan usually gifted him and Aurora, Aurora liked the style Elijah preferred the simpler kind which this was.

A neat dark silver band with some kind of inlay, and an enchantment lain on it was well. 

“White oak ash set in viking steel.”

“What?” he choked wordless at the implications, Tristan would use something as rare as white oak ash, one of the few things able to harm him or his siblings. 

“It’s protection.” Tristan explained, “as long as you wear that the daggers are just that, daggers, no more threat to you than a normal one.”

“Why?” he questioned in clear disbelief.

“Even if you leave me I have no desire to see you laid low by your brother.”

“I could run to him and no longer fear being daggered, you're giving me an escape.” he explained in confusion this- this was out of character, Tristan was possessive and controlling, he'd never-

Tristan’s claims of wanting them to be equal repeated themselves in Elijah's head, for once he wasn't able to shake them off as easily, proclamations of desire and ideas of love were just words, easy lies.

This was solid evidence.

This was beyond the obsession he had cultivated to grow to ensure his own ease of life.

“You’d still need to find a way to take it but yes. It’s no longer a choice between a prison here and a box there.” Tristan echoed what Elijah had once voiced in one of his darkest moments, lost in despair and searching for a way to the emptiness of it. 

Before Tristan had started pulling him from the cell to spend days in the centre of the closest city, wasting his time simply sitting with Elijah as he watched the humans live their lives. Reminding him time moved on around him, that the world still continued and he was a part of it.

“It’s a choice between us, the strix and all the good you can do here and him, managing his temper.” Tristan added with a smirk when Elijah was quiet for too long.

Yes, he had noticed that, he frowned at the smug face, because even if he calmed Klaus and explained to him he hadn’t betrayed him, he would be stuck with him, still helpless against anyone from his sire line and without the power and resources of the Strix to continue his projects, like the food banks.

Even Tristan’s romantic gestures were a move in a chess game, Elijah pulled Tristan’s tie, Tristan allowed it as he followed before it could force him.

It wasn’t like Elijah couldn't also play like that.

[wdwmarveldisney]

I found it so relatable!! And since requests are open! Maybe one where the teen wolf pack has a few items of clothing they all share for bonding and scent sharing or whatever but none of them fit reader which really bums reader out and makes them feel left out of the pack/disconnected from the group until maybe reader gets gifted a sweatshirt in their size (by the pack) to finally be able to share with everybody? If it feels too much like Thought of You or doesn't give ya inspo that's just fine! Appreciate you being willing to listen!!

Sweatshirt Apology

The Pack x reader

Summary: You don’t say anything about the pack clothes not fitting and when they find out, all they can do is apologise for not realising sooner.

Masterlist

A/N: When you think you’ve already put it out but turns out you never pressed the button. It’s hasn’t been well proofread but I do love it

GIF isn’t mine

Sitting in the back of Stiles' jeep did nothing to battle the cold of the night. The others stood round outside, all of you waiting for something to happen. They were all wrapped up in their coats, talking quietly as you sat in the back of the jeep, arms wrapped tight around yourself to try stay warmer. The idiots hadn't informed you of the new plan and then had turned up at ten at night to pick you up. So here you were in plaid pj trousers and an oversized top that had one too many holes across the collar and sleeves shorter than your patience. And with them rushing you, you only had enough time to grab shoes and socks to put on when in the jeep, a coat long forgotten.

Completely zoned out, you didn't notice Scott and Kira make their way over to the jeep to get something out. Scott headed round the other side of the jeep as Kira walked straight to your side, sending a sweet smile your way. You noticed immediately that she was wearing a 'pack shirt'. It was the light grey one, some football club or something. You thought Liam had that one right now. Or maybe it was Malia who was supposed to have it.

You were broken out of your thoughts as Kira laughed nervously and Scott was looking at you worried from your other side. You realised you'd missed Kira's question and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, "Sorry, what did you say? I'm so out of it." Kira laughed slightly again, this time with you hesitantly joining in. She leant against the car as she fiddled with her necklace and Scott was searching through his bag. With both doors open, the breeze was making a shiver run through your body, perfectly backing up Kira's words, "You're cold. I think Stiles has that red pack hoodie in the back of the jeep if you want it?"

Another shiver ran through you but it wasn't the cold anymore. Actually the embarrassment and slight shame was heating you up quite a bit. See, the pack clothes you all shared weren't so much shared with you. Well, they were, the pack always handed the clothes to you. They were just never worn by you. You'd tried them all on obviously but that was really the issue. None of them fit. Well, they did fit but they fitted tight and uncomfortable and in no way right. The way they fitted made you want to tear them apart to be able to breathe. So you had gotten into a habit of just using them as a pillow case. That way, they still got your scent and the pack would never find out the shirts and hoodies didn't fit and they wouldn’t feel, I don't know, sorry? Uncomfortable because it?

So you shook your head at Kira, smiling softly at her and a worried Scott. Fucking chemosignals. "I'm all good. I'm not too cold, just tired. And missing my bed," That wasn't a lie, you really did miss your bed. You could hate how the clothes didn't fit while in peace in your bed. Scott clearly wasn't believing a word that left you, standing up slightly as he pointed to the back of the jeep, "I can go get it now, you don't have to worry, no one's using it. You haven't actually had it in ages." He carried on to himself as he went to round the jeep but your eyes went wide as you shot up and all but shouted, "No!"

That got the attention of more than just Scott but the whole pack too. Kira was frowning slightly along with Scott as the others looked over confused. You gave your best attempt of a smile, your eyes focused on Scott as he appeared back in the doorway, "No, I don't need it. I'm fine, seriously." Scott raised his hands in surrender, nodding at your words and you relaxed back against the seat. Great, now you looked like mad to all your friends. You don't hear Kira or Scott say anything else before they head back to Stiles, Derek and Malia, who they were talking to before. Exhausted by not only that interaction and it's, no doubt, consequences but also by the day you had had in general, you did your best to lay comfortably across the back seat of the jeep, trying to get some sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, when Scott and Kira got back to the others with small frown on their faces, Stiles immediately jumped to question them, "What the hell was that about? What did you do?"

"It wasn't me! They're- They're sad. Really sad," Scott tried to explain, glancing back to the jeep as Kira gave a small nod and to the surprise of everyone, so did Derek. He pointed vaguely towards the jeep as he spoke, "They do. Been like that on and off for weeks now." Stiles looked round them all, hoping to get some sort of supernatural answer to it all. When they all stayed silent, he huffed, "Well, do we know what happened recently? I mean, I can't think of-" Stiles cut himself off when he saw a look of realisation dawned on Kira's face, "What? What? What is it?"

"We got the pack clothes about the same time, I think," Scott paused at what Stiles said before he nodded, eyes alight with realisation. The others nodded too and Stiles paused as he thought it through. He was always one of the few you were closer with, a bond formed from all the nerdy shit you two loved and he was one of the very few people in your life who had ended up seeing you cry. It was at a movie but nevertheless. And he had noticed the way you had frowned and closed yourself off one night when even Derek's spare coat didn't fit right during a storm.

He shook his head, hand running through his hair as he couldn't believe how oblivious they all were. The others around him waited patiently for him to expand on the annoyed and pained look he suddenly had. Well, all except Malia. She looked round the others before leaning in a little as she spoke to Stiles, "What's wrong with you now?"

"The clothes don't fit them. They can't fit into them and they don't want to tell us because they think it's embarrassing," he sighed out, nervously fixing his flannel but then his eyes lit up and he smiled round the group, "But I've got an idea."

-

It was a few days and one supernatural incident solved later that found you worriedly and curiously knocking on Scott's front door. He'd texted to say to come ASAP, texting 911 but there was no signs of struggle, no signs of breaking and entering, no signs of any trouble at all. It made your stomach swirl with a slight sickly feeling, bile in your throat until the door opened and there stood Scott and Lydia, completely fine and with wide smiles on their lips. Yeah, you were gonna kill them.

"911?" They could tell by the tone of your voice, the way your lips pursed and the raise of your eyebrow that you were pissed. Scott's face fell as he looked back to Lydia who's bright grin didn't waver. She held her hand out to you, "Just come on." Hesitantly and slightly grumpily, you took her hand and let her lead the way to Scott's living room where the others were. They all looked variations of nervous to happy and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why. But then your eyes caught something in Stiles' hands.

A sweatshirt. A dark, maroon sweatshirt that looked like the one saved in a stupid Pinterest board on your phone that you had mentioned that you'd die to have. It even had that silly little design on the back, the white silhouetting perfectly on the dark red. It looked soft and comfy and more importantly, it looked to be your size.

You stared round, even more confused with ten times the amount of questions as before. So, you simply settled with a small point to the sweatshirt, "What's that?" Stiles rolled his eyes, sarcastic quip on the edge of his tongue but not ever leaving as you glared up at him. What you didn’t account for was Malia, “It’s a sweatshirt,”

“I know that. Why are presenting it to me like it holds some godly power?” Liam snorted, doing his best to not laugh as Mason did the same beside him. Cory looked like he was gonna join in but instead shoved Mason’s shoulder when Derek glared their way. Scott looked nervously round everyone as Stiles rather aggressively nodded your way and suddenly everything was so much more confusing. “Okay, what the hell is going on?”

Scott finally spoke up, “It’s the new pack sweatshirt. Lydia saw it and remembered one similar that you said you liked,” He looked round for help when you still looked a little confused and everyone else looked hesitant to bring something else up. Eventually Malia sighed, explaining, “We noticed none of the other fitted you so we got you this one. We want you to have it first.” You nodded, looking around at everyone sheepishly agreeing and though Malia’s bluntness over the whole thing wasn’t exactly unexpected, you were entirely grateful for it.

A small grin made its way to your face, “You guys did that? You didn’t have to.” Everyone looked confused by that, Stiles scoffing at the thought, “Oh yeah, cause that’s completely insane for us to do,” he sighed, dropping the sweatshirt into your lap and shit, it was soft, “Look, we can’t have pack clothes to share if not all the pack fits into them.”

You fiddled with the sleeves, folding the sweatshirt neatly in your lap as you took a deep breath. You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know what to do. You felt like crying but that also felt incredibly embarrassing so best not. Instead you settled on looking round them, “So, um, what was my cut?” You didn’t understand their confused look. Pack clothes costs was split between them all to make sure they could buy more. “You don’t have to pay,” Kira reassured and now it was your turn to look confused, “But you guys got this specifically for me. If anything, I should pay a bigger cut.”

“Oh, shut up,”

“Stiles!” Lydia warned before she sat next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to pull you into her, “This is a gift, you don’t have to pay. We all feel bad that we didn’t even think about sizing so this is our apology.” You didn’t fully get that. You were also at fault, for not telling them but if that’s how they saw it, you weren’t complaining. This was a free sweatshirt you guys were talking about.

Still, you didn’t know what to say. This- no one had done this for you before. To be fair, you’ve never really been in a position like this before. That’s so not the point though, you needed to focus. Wrapping your arm around Lydia to pull her into a proper side hug, you looked round all the others with a grateful smile, “Thank you. You guys didn’t have to do that.” That caused an uproar of disagreements, everyone except Derek piling into hug and you laughed at that. You had some weird fucking friends but you loved them to the ends to the earth and that was never changing.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My website

Chapter 86: July 2016

It’s probably going to be another scorcher of a day; Gerry can sense it, even though the sun isn’t up yet. Lucky thing he doesn’t really feel it anymore.

Well…that’s not exactly true. He does feel the heat. It just doesn’t affect him as badly as it affects everyone around him. He’s taken to avoiding people…for a lot of reasons, actually…but one of the biggest is that he’s trying not to draw attention to himself, and he knows people are staring at him.

He’s lucky, actually, and he knows it. Not just to be alive, although that’s a pretty damn big thing, but to be able to wear the kind of clothing he prefers. He arrived in Washington, DC six weeks ago with no money, no identification, and no real clue what he was going to tell people. The only reason he hadn’t turned up in the borrowed—okay, stolen—scrubs from the hospital was because the man who’d first offered him a ride, a long-haul trucker called Jeff, had insisted on buying him real clothes at the first truck stop they’d come to. Which of course meant he turned up in a pair of navy blue work pants and a t-shirt with some macho bullshit about being a truck driver, but at least they weren’t tissue-thin bits of cotton meant more for keeping clean than protecting from the elements.

It took him two days, four different cars, and one close call with a police officer wherein he only managed to avoid an arrest for hitchhiking on the grounds that he was British and didn’t know it was illegal in the state—which was true—to get here, and he was exhausted, strung out, and aching. He can only imagine what he looked—and smelled—like, and it’s only that he was too weary to be embarrassed that he was able to walk into the British Embassy and ask for help. It might have done him a few favors, actually, since he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have been so keen to help him otherwise.

Actually, everyone at the Embassy has been uniformly helpful and kind to him, and he appreciates it. One of the staff members even helped him find a job—a temporary one, one that pays under the table in cash and therefore doesn’t have to worry about whether their employees are in the country legally or not, but it’s something that lets him afford food and a roof over his head…in theory. In practice, Gerry is somewhat disquieted to find that he needs neither. Food does nothing for his hunger; he doesn’t sleep, and when he does, he doesn’t get any rest from it. It’s a constant struggle to focus, to remember what year it actually is and where he actually is and what he’s actually doing, and sometimes it seems like every moment he’s ever experienced is playing all at once, like he’s standing in a room full of tape recorders all playing different tapes at the same time. He can pick out a word here and there, sometimes focus on a single tape, but for the most part it’s just…noise.

It’s all makeshift, a way of marking time, and really his life—such as it is—revolves around his daily visit to 3100 Massachusetts Avenue Northwest.

They’re…doing their best. He knows that. He gave them very little to work with, in the grand scheme of things, and the mills of bureaucracy grind slow but fine. It’s also not their only job, and this is apparently an election year (Gerry’s been hearing the chatter, mingled parts anxiety and vitriol, from the other guys in the kitchen; their dialect of Spanish is a little strange to him, but he can follow along okay, and he’s learned a bunch of new curse words), so they’re very busy. He can’t expect miracles, not after he already got one.

Honestly, going every single day is probably overkill, and under any other circumstances Gerry wouldn’t bother. But the ambassador has taken a shine to him for some reason and insists he come by for breakfast before he goes on shift or dinner after he gets off, depending on when the restaurant manager needs him. Today either is an option, since the restaurant is closed…which is technically Gerry’s fault…but he thinks he’ll probably go to breakfast anyway.

He doesn’t want to be alone too long right now.

Gerry lights up the cigarette—a Dunhill menthol, not his preferred brand, but Woodbines are apparently hard to come by in the United States and he can’t buy any without ID anyway, so he has to go with whatever he bums off his coworkers—and leans back against the stone curving around the base of the statue, a half-dressed man with his arms outstretched. It’s a memorial, which isn’t exactly a shocker; you can’t swing a dead cat around here without hitting at least three memorials or monuments to the past or the dead. He’s seen a fair few of them since being here, since most of them are free to visit, so it gives him something to do. The war memorials, of which there are plenty, make him a bit uneasy, but he hasn’t encountered anything particularly troubling, not even traipsing around Arlington National Cemetery. This particular monument is to the Titanic, more specifically to the men who stood aside and let the women and children go ahead. There’s something comforting about it, but Gerry’s pretty sure it’s nothing to do with his connection to Terminus and everything to do with him empathizing with people willing to sacrifice themselves so that their loved ones will survive. After all, they had to know they were likely to die if they remained.

The face of the man in the restaurant’s toilet swims before him. Something turns in his stomach, and it’s not because of the nicotine.

An overdose, the paramedics said, one of the local junkies who’d finally pushed things too far, bought something too potent, hit the wrong vein. Probably quick, he was likely dead before they ever arrived. They seemed detached over the whole thing, although Gerry guesses they have to be to stay in that job; if you started breaking down every time you lost someone, you wouldn’t last long. The restaurant owner doesn’t really have any such excuse, so his reaction—to curse the dead man up and down for picking his bathroom to shoot up in, forcing him to lose a day’s business—seemed callous and disproportionate. The other undocumented workers in the restaurant made themselves scarce, understandably when the cops showed up, but at least when Gerry went back into the kitchen to tell them the coast was clear he found them in a circle praying for the man’s soul. They invited Gerry to join them, and he did, even though he didn’t understand the words…or believe there was anyone on the other end listening.

He can’t even pretend it was an accident. Not really. The glowing black ichor running through the man’s veins tempted him, sang a siren’s song to the hungering ache inside him, and Gerry knew he had to find an excuse, any excuse, to touch his arm, so he made a pretext of helping the obviously staggering man get to the bathroom and it flooded into him, filled him with the sensation he was growing accustomed to in a way he really shouldn’t.

The man was his fourth, not counting the coroner at Christiana Hospital. Gerry tried to convince himself that it’s a kindness, that it’s not like he’s really doing anything. He’s come to realize that what he’s seeing, the black masses or ribbons or striations, are the mark of Terminus, a sign of how the person is going to die, and he tells himself that he’s just giving that death a purpose, that if they’re going to die anyway it’s better to serve a higher purpose than just be dead, right?

He can almost feel Martin frowning in concern over his shoulder.

He knows better, of course. It’s the kid that told him otherwise. The kid he didn’t touch despite seeing the black band wrapped around her torso, partly because he’s not going to go around grabbing random kids and partly because he refused to feed off a child. He made himself watch, though, made himself see her die because she deserved that, and sure enough she chased a ball into the street and he knew the car was going to hit her—but it stopped just in time, the girl was safe.

And then came the pain…

So he knows now. He doesn’t have to touch them, and if he doesn’t, they don’t actually die. But if they don’t, if he doesn’t touch them when he sees the mark, then he gets punished for letting them live.

Which is fine, because that was a goddamned kid. Gerry almost bites the cigarette in half and has to force himself to relax. She wasn’t any older than Melanie was when he met her—she deserves a chance to grow up, not to just be fodder for something like him. But it meant he was weaker than usual, frail and hungry and shaking, and his boss accused him of being drunk and he swore he wasn’t, which was true. It meant it was harder for him to resist taking the next time he saw a mark to take. Thank God it wasn’t another kid.

Not for the first time, Gerry tells himself that he has to get back to England, and soon. He needs to get back to Melanie and Martin. Not just because he needs to know they’re okay and for them to know he’s okay, not just because he needs to apologize for not sending for them, not just because he could really use a hug right now, but because he needs them to give him both some perspective and some help. The three of them worked out how to burn Leitners and figured out the sea shanties as a protective spell, they can come up with a solution to Gerry’s problem. He’s not altogether confident he can come up with the answer on his own.

He’s afraid.

It’s not fair, he thinks angrily as he takes another drag on the cigarette. Every other avatar—not that he’s met terribly many, but he’s heard of plenty—gets to have their feelings burned out of them. They enjoy what they do. But no, not Gerry. He’s not fooling himself, he definitely qualifies as an avatar, willingly or unwillingly. And he still has to feel—guilt, loss, yearning, all of it. He just hopes he still gets to feel positive emotions, too, but he won’t know until he sees Martin and Melanie in front of him.

In a way, that’s what scares him the most—the fear that he’s lost the good feelings. That there’s nothing left of him but death and despair. That he’ll see his brother and sister again and feel nothing, just an empty hole where his joy should be.

The sun crests the horizon, staining the statue and the pavement around Gerry the color of blood, which is probably a bad sign. With a sigh, he gets to his feet and turns to put the river at his left shoulder. Time to start heading towards the Embassy. It’s going to take him at least an hour, and he’s got to get there before the ambassador finishes breakfast or he’ll have to wait all day to talk to him again.

The city wakes up around him, as much as it ever sleeps, as he makes his way along the river, finishing his cigarette. He flicks the butt into an ashtray set on the corner where he parts ways with the Potomac, sloping past the Swedish and Icelandic embassies before heading into a more residential neighborhood. People are beginning to start their days, and one or two wave to him. Gerry waves back politely, but luckily none of them are so friendly they want to talk. The only exception is a small child who’s apparently quite excited about getting to go to his very first baseball game and wants to share that with the world; Gerry is trapped for several minutes while he rambles and only minds a little. He eventually gets away and continues his walk. He picks up speed a little. It won’t do to be too late.

In all, it takes just shy of two hours for Gerry to walk the five miles from where he started to where he’s going. He can hear the bells at one of the cathedrals in town tolling the hour as he makes his way past the statue of Winston Churchill and up to the ambassador’s residence. Eight o’clock on the nose. He’s timed it exactly right.

The housekeeper greets him with a warm smile and a hug before ushering him into the opulent hall and up the stairs to the morning room, where the ambassador and his wife are just sitting down. They look up with smiles of their own as they come in.

“Mr. Delano is here, sir,” the housekeeper announces, rather unnecessarily.

“Gerard, my boy, come in, come in,” the ambassador says jovially, rising and indicating the seat next to him. “Hoped you’d be joining us early.”

Gerry smiles wanly and takes a seat with polite greetings to both of them. He’s about the same age as their children, maybe a bit younger, which he thinks is part of the reason they’ve been so keen to help him; this is definitely above and beyond what the Embassy staff usually does for expatriate Brits lurking about the States. The ambassador’s wife studies him. “You look much better today. I was worried you were coming down with something.”

“No, ma’am, I’m fine, thank you,” Gerry assures her.

Breakfast is a relaxing affair; Gerry can’t really taste the food, but eats it mechanically and joins the conversation as appropriate. The ambassador has a few things to say about both the election currently going on in the United States and the turmoil apparently going on back in the UK, as well as a few other incidents he’s trying to craft his response to. When they’re about halfway done their meals, however, his wife turns to Gerry and says, “Gerard, how are things at the restaurant? What’s your schedule like today?”

“Oh…we’re closed today, actually,” Gerry says, a bit nervously. “Some bl—a man overdosed in the bathroom last night, just before closing time. The restaurant has to be closed today while they investigate and get things cleaned properly.”

“Ah.” The ambassador’s wife glances meaningfully at her husband. “So they aren’t expecting you to come in tonight?”

“No. And tomorrow’s my day off.” Unless Paolo can’t make it in again, in which case Gerry will likely be called in, assuming the owner can figure out how to get hold of him. Not having a mobile phone does help in that regard.

“Well, in that case…” The ambassador wipes his mouth with his napkin. “I have good news and bad news for you.”

Gerry’s stomach flips with nerves. He pushes his plate away. “Tell me the bad news first.”

The ambassador nods, as if he was expecting that. “The bad news is that we can’t expedite a passport for you. The office is just so backed up, what with…everything…that even under ordinary circumstances—which I think we can all agree these are not—you wouldn’t be able to get a passport inside of eight to ten weeks. And without being able to send copies of your documents to the office, it’s going to be harder. Especially without anyone to verify your identity.”

Gerry nods. He’s been expecting that, honestly. Especially since he gave his name as Delano and not Keay—he doesn’t want to be associated with his mother, thank you very much—but of course they can’t find his birth certificate, or a copy of his old passport. He supposes he could come clean, maybe by pretending he’s had some sort of amnesia, but there’s still the matter of verifying his identity. Legally, Martin and Melanie aren’t actually related to him by birth or marriage, so they qualify, but Melanie probably doesn’t count as working in a “recognized profession”. And then there’s the fact that they both think he’s dead, which would mean they would think an email asking them to verify his identity was a hoax or a scam. No, he’s right to keep them out of this.

On the other hand…eight weeks? He doesn’t want to be here that much longer. Martin’s birthday is in less than a month, and Gerry desperately wants to be home for that.

He says none of that, however. All he says is, “And the good news?”

The ambassador beams, reaches into his pocket, and withdraws an envelope. “The good news,” he says, “is that the rules regarding emergency travel documents are a bit easier to work with.”

He hands the envelope to Gerry.

With suddenly shaking hands, Gerry opens it. Inside is a small blue booklet folded over; when he opens it, he sees his own pale, washed-out face staring hollowly from the page. Listed alongside his name, age, and citizenship is a very precise travel itinerary…one that has him arriving in London just before noon tomorrow.

He looks up at the ambassador in surprise. “What…but I don’t have a ticket.”

“That’s in the envelope too,” the ambassador says, gesturing at the envelope again. Gerry looks and finds a folded piece of paper with instructions for checking into a flight.

“It’s the least we could do for you,” the ambassador’s wife adds. She smiles and pats his hand. “I thought you looked familiar, and I finally made the connection—you’re Eric Delano’s boy, aren’t you?”

“You knew my dad?” Gerry asks, surprised. He honestly didn’t think either of them were old enough, but…

“He was my uncle’s roommate in university. I didn’t know him well, but what I knew I liked.” The ambassador’s wife smiles again. “I think I would have married him when I got older if he’d asked.”

“Hey, now,” the ambassador protests, but he’s laughing. “Gerard, we want you to get home as soon as you can. And we know the restaurant doesn’t pay much. So, yes. You now have your travel document, and your ticket. You’ll need to apply for a passport when you get home, but this will at least get you there.”

A sense of relief washes over Gerry’s mind as he realizes that one, at least, of his earlier fears is unfounded. He hasn’t lost the ability to have positive emotions at all. He’s delighted—and grateful—and relieved. Tears well up in his eyes as the emotions threaten to overwhelm him.

“Thank you,” he says, a bit huskily. “I’ll never forget this. You have my word.”

“You’ll have to come see us the next time you come to the States for a visit,” the ambassador tells him. “Meanwhile, you have six hours, I’d say, before you need to get to Dulles and start checking in. I need to get over to the Embassy, but if you’d like to use the phone to call someone and let them know you’re coming…”

“They’ll be at work right now,” Gerry says, glancing at the clock.

“Well, before you leave for the airport, then.”

“I’ll call from the airport,” Gerry lies. He’s not going to call anyone. They think he’s dead; he can’t spring that on them over the phone. He needs to tell them in person, show them his tattoos and scars, let them feel him and know he’s real. Maybe let Martin See him properly. But for now…it can be a surprise.

“If you’re sure,” the ambassador’s wife says uncertainly.

“I’m sure.” Gerry smiles at her as warmly as he can. “Thank you again. Both of you. I don’t know what I can do to repay you.”

The ambassador stands and pats him on the shoulder. His expression, as he looks down at Gerry, is more serious than he’s been in the last six weeks. “Be safe. Be well. And use the opportunity to do good in the world.”

“I will,” Gerry promises. He doesn’t know how, but he will. There’s got to be something bigger than burning Leitners that he can do to help push back against the Fourteen.

That’s a problem for the future, though. For now, he’s got to check himself out of the temporary lodgings he’s been staying in, gather his few things, and figure out how he’s getting to Dulles—and where Dulles is, for that matter. He has a plane to catch.

He’s finally going home.

[lys-9-10]

In Which Yachi Ships Kagehina _ Edited

So I changed the first kiss scene in my most popular work b/c it was actually really problematic. Yikes, dunno what I was thinking. Mea culpa. Excerpt below or read the full work here. ***

The vice-like grip of Kageyama’s arms loosens when he falls asleep, so Hinata is able to un-smush his face from the setter's chest. He doesn’t want to pull away too much… Just enough so that he can look up at Kageyama. 

His setter looks different in sleep. The deep vertical frown line that seemed to be permanently etched between his eyebrows is absent. It makes his face look oddly smooth and soft. Hinata likes it. 

He wriggles one arm out of Kageyama’s grasp. His setter stirs but doesn’t wake. Hinata raises his hand to Kageyama’s face. Slowly, delicately, he touches a single finger to that spot where the frown line used to be. Kageyama hums in his sleep and Hinata feels something flutter in his chest. 

He finds himself smiling. Just a small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. Pulling his hand away from Kageyama’s face, he touches his fingers to his own lips, feeling the smile there. Then his eyes go to Kageyama's lips.

They're relaxed, not twisted in a scowl. It makes Kageyama look so peaceful. So... sweet.

Hinata finds himself leaning closer to those lips... They feel magnetic. Like they’re drawing him in. They make him wanna... wanna... 

Hinata gasps. In a panicked flurry of limbs, he pushes himself off of Kageyama, tumbles feet over head, and lands hard on his butt.  

Kageyama grunts. Hinata freezes. His heart pounds furiously in his chest as the setter stirs... and sits up, rubbing his eyes. 

“What is it now, dumbass?” Kageyama sighs. 

Hinata shakes his head so furiously he thinks he might break his neck. “N-nothing! Nothing happened! I didn’t—I’m totally not—Nothing, it’s nothing, nothing’s going on!” 

Kageyama’s brow furrows in confusion. And then a flicker of concern enters his eyes. “... Are you okay?” 

Hinata flushes. “Yes! Yes of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing... nothing weird happened...” Nothing weird happened. He totally didn’t just experience a surge of desire to kiss Kageyama. Why would he even want to do that? That would be... ridiculous... That could mess everything up. No. Hinata totally doesn’t want to kiss Kageyama. Totally, totally not... 

Kageyama is still frowning at him and Hinata is not mourning the loss of that smooth, relaxed brow he had during his sleep. He’s not fighting the urge to crawl towards Kageyama and take his face in his hands and kiss away the frown lines...

“Did you have a nightmare or something?” Kageyama asks. His voice is low and concerned. It makes Hinata’s heart hiccup in his chest. 

“Wh-what?” he stammers breathlessly. 

Kageyama scratches awkwardly behind his ear. “It’s okay if you did,” he says. “You don't have to be embarrassed or anything. I, um, sometimes have nightmares too.”  

Hinata’s heart somersaults. 

Damn. Dammit. Why is Kageyama picking now of all times to be all weird and mushy and sweet? As if it wasn’t bad enough to watch him sleep so sweetly and peacefully... This is just really, really messing with his head...

Kageyama coughs. His eyes shift to the side. “Um. If it would help, you can...” Kageyama opens his arms and sort of gestures at his own chest. “Come back here. If you want.” 

Hinata squawks. He feels the blood rushing to his face. And then he feels the terror closing in on his throat. Kageyama must know. He must be making fun of him. That’s why he’s inviting Hinata to cuddle. He’s mocking him. He knows Hinata wants to kiss him and now he’s mocking him... 

“Shut up, Bakageyama,” Hinata croaks. He hopes Kageyama can’t hear the quiver in his voice. “You’re so stupid!”

Kageyama blinks. And then, anger hardens across his face. “What the hell, dumbass,” Kageyama hisses. “I’m just trying to help you.” 

Hinata feels his own anger flare up. It’s easier to be angry than afraid and overwhelmed and distraught and a hundred other emotions that he isn’t prepared to deal with right now. 

“No you’re not!” Hinata shouts, his fists clenching. “You’re just being stupid!” He hates how uncreative his insults are right now, but it’s hard to be creative when you feel like your heart is climbing up your throat and plugging your airways. When you feel like the gym floor has been ripped out from underneath you and suddenly there’s the threat of everything, everything changing, everything collapsing... Hinata feels tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks them away before they have a chance to spill over. “Just leave me alone, Bakageyama.” 

Kageyama’s nostrils flare. “Fine! God, you’re so annoying!” 

“You’re annoying!” 

“Shut your stupid face, I’m going to sleep!” 

“Me too! So shut your stupid face!” 

Kageyama casts him a final glare, then lies back down on the floor and rolls over, turning his back to Hinata. 

And that’s when Hinata allows the tears to spill over.

***

Kageyama grits his teeth as he curls in on himself. 

That stupid dumbass.. He was just trying to be nice. Kageyama knows he isn’t very good at being nice, but he was trying. What did Hinata go and get all pissy at him for? Stupid idiot, stupid dumbass...

Kageyama tries not to be concerned about him. Tries not to wonder what kind of horrible nightmare had Hinata flying into a panic in the middle of the night like that. He tries to shut his eyes and go to sleep... 

And then he hears snuffling sounds. 

Kageyama’s eyes fly open. For a moment, he just lies there, frozen, waiting to see if he’ll hear it again. When he does, his heart cracks. 

For a brief second, Kageyama wrestles with himself. Hinata has made it very clear that he doesn’t want Kageyama to try to comfort him. He should really just ignore him. Just let the idiot cry himself to sleep... 

The brief second is over. 

Kageyama gets up and is before Hinata in an instant. Pulling the idiot against his chest, tucking his head over his, squeezing him tight, tight, tight... 

Hinata breaks apart and sobs, his fingers grasping at Kageyama’s shirt and hanging on for dear life. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammers in between hiccups. “I promise I can ignore it. I didn’t even know I w-wanted to before tonight so I can t-totally ignore it. Things can go back to n-normal. I promise. Just don’t stop s-setting to me. And p-please don’t stop eating lunch with me either or w-walking with me to s-school or p-practising with me extra... I p-promise, things can just be n-normal...” 

“Dumbass, what are you even talking about?” Kageyama murmurs into Hinata's hair. He has no idea what Hinata is going on about, but this is obviously some kind of mental breakdown after a nightmare. Kageyama will comfort him. He'll comfort him, he'll hold him until he stops crying...

“It was just one time!” Hinata wails, burying his face in Kageyama’s shirt. “I only wanted to kiss you one time!” 

Kageyama’s body goes stiff with shock. Hinata continues wailing and stammering hysterical words. But Kageyama can’t hear him anymore. He can only heart those last words, ringing over and over again in his mind, like a tape recording of an opposing player’s serve that he’s set on loop to study.

I only wanted to kiss you one time... 

I only wanted to kiss you one time...

Hinata wanted to kiss him?? When?? How had he missed this?? How could he possibly have missed this when he’d been pining after Hinata this whole damnable year?? 

Hinata is banging his head against Kageyama’s chest now and sobbing something incoherent. Kageyama grabs him by the shoulders and holds him at arm's length. “When?” he demands breathlessly.

Hinata blinks, his wet eyelashes fluttering and shedding tear droplets. “Wh-what?” 

“When did you want to kiss me?”

Do you still want to? Can I convince you to still want to? Do I have a hope after all...?   

Hinata tilts his head. “You mean, you didn’t know? But... why did you suggest we snuggle then?” 

“Dammit, Hinata,” Kageyama groans. It’s half exasperated, half desperate. “I have absolutely no freaking clue what you’re talking about. When did you want to kiss me?” 

Hinata’s gaze shifts to the side. He clears his throat. “Um. I was just joking.” 

Kageyama lets out a sound like someone being strangled to death. No. No he is not letting the turd-face get away with that. 

“Hinata!" he shouts, shaking the dumbass like a rag doll. “I have wanted to kiss you every second of every day for this whole freaking year so if you want to kiss me too you’d better TELL me and if you don’t you’d better also tell me or I’m just going to DO it, I’m just going to kiss your stupid face!!” 

Hinata is gawking at him. His eyes are practically hanging out of their sockets and his jaw appears to have come completely unhinged. “Wh... Whaaaat?” 

That’s not an answer. That’s not a freaking answer and Kageyama is losing his freaking marbles, he needs to get away from Hinata now or he really is just going to kiss him, and Hinata still hasn’t said he wants that so he can’t, he can’t...

Kageyama shoves Hinata away from him and jumps to his feet. He’s ready to run—forgetting for a moment that they’re locked in here and there’s nowhere to run to—but Hinata tackles him from behind. Kageyama’s legs buckle and he face-plants. Hinata lands on top of him, flat against his back, knocking all the air out of him. 

“D-dumbass!” Kageyama wheezes. 

“Why did you want to kiss me?” Hinata demands, his mouth at Kageyama’s ear. 

Kageyama screeches. He’s so done. He’s so, so done. 

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU IDIOT!!”

He’s in love with him. He’s so, so in love with him and he’s so, so done , he can’t even care, can’t even be afraid about declaring a secret that he’s spent the entire year guarding with his life...

“Oh.” Hinata’s declaration is soft. “Huh. Well that changes things.” Kageyama has no idea what that means. 

He has no idea what it means when Hinata just stays there, lying on top of Kageyama’s back, for several silent seconds. 

He has no idea what it means when Hinata finally gets up and offers him a hand. 

No idea what it means when Kageyama takes the hand and Hinata helps him to his feet, their eyes locked on each other and their breaths held. 

But he does know what it means when Hinata says: “I guess we’d better kiss each other then.”  Read the full fic on ao3

[araiouch]

— tugs at heart strings

PAIRING : thoma x ayaka

GENRE : fluff , mutual pinning , modern au

A/N : not proofread !! ayaka is slight ooc since i made her personality similar to my friend’s , short fic

whenever thoma appears,

ayaka can’t seem to take her eyes off of him.

ayaka’s classmate, thoma, was wearing a pilot uniform for their group project and it was too much for the poor girl.

a whisper sigh slips through ayaka’s mouth as she merely watches thoma in silence while they were practicing their rehearsal from afar with her classmates sitting at the same place she was at.

her friends were not there with her because they had to attend a subject that is not included on her schedule, which is why she’s on her own at the moment. she felt a bit awkward, and ayaka not wanting to interact with other people didn’t help.

the place was a bit quiet, all thanks to her classmates who were finally behaving properly as they were focused on the group that was on the stage. although she’s alone and does not have anyone accompanying her, she was glad enough to find a moment of quietness.

it’s not often to be able to find a moment of peace with her busy schedule inferring from time to time, there were already dark circles under her eyes that she couldn’t take care of since she still had a lot to do.

because of this, ayaka’s friends were concerned about her well-being so they always tried to help her with her duties. but of course, she turned down their offer kindly.

too lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice that the green eyed male already left the stage to go to the bathroom. ayaka gulped, being slightly embarrassed about the fact that she stared at him for too long that she wasn’t aware of her surroundings anymore.

it seemed like their practice was going to be paused for awhile because they were still waiting for thoma. she took this as an opportunity to talk with her older brother, ayato.

leaning forward a little bit from her seat to grab something from her pocket, she pulls out her phone. after unlocking it, she opens the app that she also uses to be able to chat with her friends and immediately started to tell him about her weird ‘feelings’ again about thoma.

she trusts her brother that she’s already comfortable enough about speaking this matter with him. and besides, ayato listens to her rant about thoma almost everyday.

her shoulders were tense as she types on her phone, feeling nervous.

brother, thoma looks even more attractive today.

oh, is that so?

yes. he’s just so hejfkkdn

ayato was flabbergasted at her reply. it was unusual for ayaka to do those weird typings.

ayaka wasn’t aware yet that her brother and thoma were friends. ayato didn’t even bother telling her as he guessed that she probably wouldn’t pay attention to that information that much, thinking that it was only a puppy crush.

however, the fact that ayaka was acting like this because of thoma made him feel a bit upset that his sister was indeed growing up. despite ayaka being an adult already, he couldn’t help but to the protectiveness consuming him.

thoma is a great guy and would be capable enough to protect his sister, but ayaka is still his younger sister!

do you finally admit on liking him, ayaka?

the word "like" is too strong. simply put, I only find him attractive

hmph. you should be careful around boys. you don’t know what’s going on inside of their heads.

brother! i really don’t like him that way!

i didn’t say anything about you liking him.

but that was what you were trying to imply, right?

hm

she swore that she could hear his chuckles through the text, making her huff in defeat and ended up closing her phone. ayaka places her phone back in her pocket. feeling flustered that her brother thought that she liked thoma.

ahh, this is so embarrassing. she thinks while covering her face with the palm of her hands.

“ayaka?” a soft voice calls out to her. “mister zhongli already gave us permission to go back to the classroom.”

looking up in shock, she was surprised to see that it was thoma that called her. “oh,” fumbling with her words, she straightens her posture. “my apologies. i was.. too distracted.”

the male chuckles in response at her nervous tone. he found her personality quite endearing which made him want to learn more about her. he wouldn’t force ayaka, of course! he would only do that if she was comfortable with it.

“it’s alright. i just came here to inform you so you wouldn’t miss classes.” her tense shoulders relax upon hearing his kind words. he’s such an angel.

thoma offers his right hand to the female with a bright smile, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable around him. he just wants to assist her from standing up, there isn’t anything wrong with it, right?

thoma thought wrong. he watches in horror as ayaka only stared at his hand, not moving a single inch. with that, he starts to stumble on his words in nervousness and guilt.

“i-im sorry! i shouldn’t have done that, that was so inconsiderate of me, i’m sor—”

as he was about to retract his hand back to his side, the female in front of him grabs his hand embarrassingly fast, as if she was desperate to hold his hand. “ah.”

even ayaka was surprised by her own actions.

the two didn’t utter a single word. an awkward silence fell upon them after what just happened. both were too stunned to say anything to the other.

unfortunately, without them knowing, zhongli enters the auditorium to fetch them himself since they were taking too long. spotting them from a mile away, he walks faster, only to stop on walking abruptly as he saw the youngsters holding each other’s hand.

the flustered looks on their faces made him sigh tiredly. shaking his head, he says nothing. he chose to leave the two alone and walked back to his class alone with silent footsteps, not wanting to interrupt their ‘moment’.

back to thoma and ayaka.. the older one snapped back from reality when he felt the younger’s small hand shake slightly in anxiousness. his eyes soften, squeezing her hand gently. “shall we head back now?”

he attempted to change the topic to not make ayaka even more anxious. he wasn’t good for her heart. not trusting herself to say a word, she only nods in response as she stood up shakily, feeling her knees get weaker when she felt him squeeze her hand reassuringly again.

“oh!” thoma exclaims, raising both brows in surprise at the girl’s unsteady figure. “are you doing alright?” god, please give ayaka the strength.

“yes. i’m fine, thank you.” she smiles at him. trying to hide the fact that she was still panicking on the inside. how could she not? the boy in front of her is literally like a puppy wagging his tail. once the both of then recovered, they finally headed back to their classroom.

but before they could get to the room, they had to go a few steps down. thoma carefully places his warm hand on ayaka’s waist to guide her and to make sure that she wouldn’t fall.

“careful now.” has she already fallen for him?

——

they already arrived at the entrance of their room and thoma opens the door for ayaka, she enters while bowing her head slightly, muttering a low ‘thank you’ to the male.

“thoma and ayaka. would you mind explaining where the two of you have been?” zhongli questions them immediately when they sat on their seats. he already knew the answer to that since he saw the scene with his own eyes. he just wanted to test them for awhile.

zhongli was quite curious on what they would say. thoma spoke first and made an excuse that it was his fault that both of them were late. this shocked ayaka and she didn’t let this slide. she also tried to reason out but thoma just kept denying her statements politely and is still persistent about it being his fault.

once again, the teacher sighs. “i’ll let you both off the hook. don’t repeat it again.” the two students stopped reasoning and nods to his words. the brown haired male crosses his arms and continued his lesson.

the whole class that witnessed this snickered to themselves and muttered about thoma and ayaka looking like a married couple when they were arguing (affectionately). how cute.

a few moments later when ayaka was writing something on her paper, she felt someone staring at her. due to her curiosity, she lifts her head to look at the person who was staring and immediately locked gazes with thoma.

they were staring at each other for awhile that caused their faces to grow red. ayaka’s light blue eyes goes wide when thoma gives her a closed eye smile bashfully.

the soft; warm smile from the male tugged at her heart strings.

[neon-draws-sometimes]

IVE BEEN WORKING ON YHIS DANG WIP SIBCE DECEMBER

In the Back of My Mind

Prompt “you lied to me”

It was too bright and your eyes hurt. A sickly sweet smell, like medicine, stung your nose. You don’t know where you are. You barely remember who you are.

You remember a name though. Fresh. He’s important to you, but you don’t know why. Their name alone comforts you somewhat. If you’re seriously hurt or lost (kidnapped?) they’ll find you, right?

As you trudge on, you start to feel an odd sensation, but the only way you can think to describe it is becoming less and less real. It’s like the brightly colored walls are taking you in.

You sit down for just a second, that turns into a minute. You can’t get back up. Eventually it all fades to the black of unconsciousness.

You awake to find you have no idea where you are. As you look at the snow covered ground, a couple of things come back to you.

Your name is Error, previously Geno, even more previously Sans. You are in Snowdin, where you used to live. You used to destroy AUS of the multiverse. 

You have a very bad memory, and you had forgotten your time being Sans and Geno for a long time. 

Your friend Fresh visited you in your antivoid when you wouldn’t even get up in the morning (metaphorically, as in reality there is no time in the antivoid). They are your closest friend. They’re a parasite that feeds on souls and can feel no emotion but fear. And that’s okay. You don’t really blame him for it or anything. He didn’t ask to be a parasite or feed on souls. And he really helped you when you were down. Still does, honestly. 

Oh yeah, and your eyesight is garbage. Fresh always tells you to wear your glasses, but they kinda embarrass you. The glasses, not Fresh. You feel like you should be able to do it yourself. You only let Fresh help because there’s no keeping him out. And it probably gives them something to do, anyways. You doubt he has any hobbies besides scaring random people and collecting old junk. 

You don’t remember how you got to Snowdin though. Or why you were in that strange bright room earlier. You’re definitely still missing some pieces, but hopefully those will come back to you.

Also, you notice Snowdin somehow feels…perfect? Usually when you visit an AU’s Snowdin, it always feel slightly off in a way that drives you insane (and makes you miss what you’ve lost) but this one just feels right to you. Everything is exactly the way you remember it last.

While sneaking along the path to your house, the peaceful sound of silence fills your ears. Despite no one at all being out on the way to your home, you aren’t feeling creeped out, despite what this is usually a sign of. You don’t smell any dust in the air though, only the sharp smell of pine.

You make it to your house, which looks lovely lit up by the colorful lights hung on it, and try the door knob. The door slides open and you walk in, using all your strength not to run. 

You walk over to the couch and sink into it, enjoying the familiar comfort. You close your eyes for just a moment, reliving your old lifetime.

You awake with a start to realize you’ve fallen asleep. Despite that, you’re still pretty tired. You feel kinda of drained even though you haven’t really done anything that demanding. Strange.

You sleepily pad about the house, finding interest in the minor things like the chips being the exact brand and flavor you like, or the fact that Papyrus’s room is locked. On second look, it seems like the chips are just crumbs. Sort of disappointing, but it makes sense considering this world was so empty. 

Still tired, you decide to get comfortable in the couch again and soon fade into sleep again.

When you wake up, you decide it’s time for you to go. The empty au is peaceful, but Fresh is probably getting worried about your absence. Also, it could be dangerous if he chose to wait for you in the antivoid. You freeze for a second, immobilized by the thought that your mistakes have ruined another person’s life yet again. But you try to clear the thought away. Fresh is smart, and you’ve warned him before that antivoid was dangerous alone. But still, you worry.

As you stand there on the soft carpet of your living room, you start to understand something terrible. You can’t leave. No matter how you try, your magic won’t pull up the exit to your antivoid. Now you’re really stressing. 

 Fresh will probably tear the multiverse apart looking for you though. And you’ll end up okay. You hope.

You sit back in the couch and cradle your arms against your chest. You feel exhausted, even though you were just asleep.

Strangely, you think you hear footsteps outside. But you’re pretty sure this au is empt-

“GREETINGS BROTHER! I HAVE ARRIVED HOME FROM MY IMPORTANT TASK OF RESTORING SNOWDIN’S PUZZLES. AND I HAVE BROUGHT GROCERIES!”

Oh my god. It’s him. You have to get out of here before he notices yo-

“WELL, ARE YOU JUST GOING TO SIT THERE, OR HELP ME OUT?” Papyrus inquires in your direction.

Is he talking to you? It can’t be possible, but you’re the only one here, and maybe this has a reasonable explanation? Maybe his brother was somehow also an error?lo

You gape at him for a couple more minutes before grabbing a bag of groceries and walking to the kitchen.

Alright, you can handle this… you’ll just help him out with the bags and then slip away to a different part if this world, and leave his real brother to explain.

As you open the fridge and deposit the chips from the bag, you ponder the surreal day you’ve been having. It’s been almost dreamlike in it’s bizarreness. 

Later, you tell Papyrus you’re going to take a nap and walk out to waterfall. You keep going, letting your feet guide you. (Is that the saying.?) You run your hand along the familiar wall as until you reach a room. The telescope is just where you left it and sit against the wall. You’ll just have to wait until somebody finds you. You can’t go back to Papyrus now. 

You hear crunching gravel coming closer to you and realize you had closed you eyes again. You open them to see the surprisingly welcome sight of absurdly saturated shoes, which of course belong to Fresh. You almost sigh aloud on relief. Now that he found you, you can go home. 

You’re sure he knows a way. If it can find a way at into your Antivoid, it can probably get you out of here, right?

You want to say something but you don’t know what, and it seems he doesn’t either. You both stare at each other for a long moment as the silence stretches on, before Fresh finally breaks the silence with an awkward cough.

“Uh. Hey?” You attempt.

His face gives you the impression of a caged animal. 

He just keeps staring. 

Maybe more like a cat going to the vet, when you think more about it. His sunglasses are blank, and he looks genuinely upset. It’s hard to remind yourself that he isn’t really upset. 

Finally, he breaks the silence with a weak “sup.” He’s not even capitalizing properly. It’s honestly kind of concerning. 

“…um.” Your mind raced as you tried to figure out what to say. You were never really the best at comforting people, you just never knew what to say. 

“You okay?” You try to start with a simple question.

BONUS UNRELATED IMAGE

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

The Lies We Tell Each Other, The Lies We Tell Ourselves

It's work in Progress Wednesday, but since all my things are a work in progress, you can just have the whole fic instead. Part two of I Just Called To Say (Smut) This is obviously also smut. Luke/Penelope WC: 9,841 AO3

They didn’t talk about it after that night and neither called the other the rest of the case, Penelope reeling from what she’d done and what after would look like, Luke struggling with the guilt of it all and feeling like he’d completely fucked up the thing they finally had going where she didn’t outwardly hate him and wasn’t shunning him.

Recently(enough) single, and away on a case, you called your not-so-sober teammate and pushed her into phone sex. Good fucking job.

The second he woke up the next morning a sick pang rippled through him. It started low in his gut, spreading up into his stomach and across his lungs until it found his throat, a knot of nerves and bile settling in the center there, a fist constricting low below his navel.

Guilt.

It was guilt. Guilt over the act, not really sure what compelled him to think something like that would be ok to ask her to do. They weren’t together, he knew it was bound to be a one time thing despite what he may want, and the fact that he wanted for her at all when he should probably still be hung up on Lisa or mourning the loss of their relationship, at least outwardly, he felt like an ass.

He tried to twist it mentally; it wasn’t even really like anything had happened, nothing physical…Nothing either couldn’t deny. It was still something she could forget and move on from, erase as if it never happened.

He wished it weren’t, but he knew better. He knew she was practical under the layers of cute and kitsch, she wouldn’t become entangled with a teammate. So he needed to put any thoughts or hopes of continuation out of his mind.

He would never be able to do that. He didn’t want to do that, but they still had a case they needed to work.

An apology gift, he decided, would help right things, something to say he was sorry for putting her in the position he had, one where she might have felt even a little bit objectified, exploited. Where there was even a possibility of her having to confront those things now, a strange balance to offset the awkwardness.

Which is why two days later back at the hotel, still on the case, he found himself scrolling the pages of a luxury body care company.

It made complete sense.

Sure, the obvious gift would have been a cute little addition to her desk, something like the cat he’d gotten her after Vermont, but those were trinkets, just mindless clutter. She deserved something better, something to help ease her stress and sooth her. Now that he knew she engaged in lavish bath rituals, something along the pampering, self-care line seemed like an apt apology gift. He looked at bottle after bottle and item after item, finally selecting a few he thought she’d really enjoy would really help de-stress, and had them shipped.

—

There was no Penelope waiting for the team when the jet landed after the case. Luke was reluctantly thankful. He didn’t want to face her without the peace-offering and it would be waiting for him when he got home, but her absence also served as confirmation to his fears: that she was angry, embarrassed, or felt foolish. Or possibly, worst of all, that the mere thought of being around him made her so uncomfortable she couldn’t bring herself to be there when the team got back. He hated himself for making her feel that way. This was her home, they were her family, now he’d tainted it. He just hoped she’d forgive him and they could work past it.

——

They couldn’t really talk about it while working and Penelope couldn’t find the nerve to call him “after hours”, his voice too fresh. Doing something like that with a teammate? With Luke?! Someone she worked with day-in and day-out and who needed her time through the phone quickly and at a moment’s notice! How was she- how were they supposed to just…And what if he regretted it? If he was just feeling lonely and desperate and decided he could because, well, there were no strings to tie him down as Pinocchio would say…No Lisa.

Still, she couldn’t help but notice his stark lack of involvement in any group calls for the remainder of the case. At first she was thankful, nervous of how it was going to go, but as the case went on, she had to admit it stung. What if it was just something he thought (and apparently he wasn’t wrong) that he could get away with? After all, he wasn’t calling her about it… The thought made her sick to her stomach. That she’d let him rope her in like that, let him coax her into something he could hold over her, expose and take advantage of the feelings they’d all suspected and she’d gradually been accepting she had for him.

No.

That wasn’t like him. She knew that.

Penelope pushed the negativity from her mind. If a good time was all it was, then yeah, it was fun, she wouldn’t deny it, but she had an effect on him too. Her cheeks warmed at the sound of him coming through the receiver playing over in her mind.

She’d need time to get that under control.

All the same, Penelope had intended to be there when the team got back, maybe then she could gauge his expression, gauge his demeanor (gauge his intent), but an emergency alert from the cat monitor she set up recently for aging Sergio had her rushing home just as soon as the jet had taken off.

Damn it. It’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.

———

Walking into the BAU the next morning he was entirely prepared for wrath, hatred, even the pointed chilly avoidance of a tundra-like ice wall; what he didn’t expect was casual indifference. She was walking away from Prentiss and Rossi across the catwalk when he walked in, Prentiss and Rossi just heading into their offices.

“Luke.” She greeted, as he crossed her line of sight.

“…Hey, Garcia.” Weird. She seemed fine, not even a pause in her step.

The present was too big to fit into his backpack so he was carrying it out in the open. He followed her, wanting to get on with the task, attack it head-on even with his tail between his legs.

“How are you?” This was fine. She could do this…She was doing this. Things were normal, he looked normal, no gloating face or smug smile. Ok, well, actually that part was pretty strange for him. Did he look a little nervous? Concerned? Serious? Ohh, she really should focus more on reading expressions, maybe take one of the professional enrichment classes offered by the bureau…

Luke followed her right through the layered doors into her office.

Sensing the tagalong, she turned abruptly. “What’s that?” she questioned, glancing to the box in his hands.

His eyes met hers, head stooping and shoulders hunching just a bit (she knew what those signals meant), holding out the box a few inches indicating she take it.

“An apology. For my phone call,” he said sheepishly, “and then not calling...The first was out of line, the second was inexcusable. I’m sorry.” After its arrival he’d had second thoughts on whether this particular gift was also out of line in the scope of things, but ultimately settled on living in denial and pretending it was just relevant to her interests and wellbeing.

What Luke presented and Penelope now held was a gorgeous dark wood box tied with a glittering lime-green bow.

Her mouth made a small “oh” as the word slipped out softly, taking the box in hand. Try as he might, the expression was pretty unreadable beyond vague surprise.

An apology gift? For something…they both willingly engaged in? So he did regret it. He wasn’t feeling like he’d conquered something…he felt like he’d done something wrong. She didn’t know what to do…what to say, but Luke didn’t give much time for a response.

“Uhm, hold off on opening it until you’re home, it has more use there anyway.” He managed a fraction of his normal smile before leaving, trying not to let the disappointment and sorrow show. As he exited he thought back to that night ‘Tonight, right now’ she’d said…It really was just that night for her wasn’t it?

With the case wrapped, they were in a “paperwork” phase, everyone writing up reports and filing, processing. Which meant there was little interaction between 

Penelope and anyone else. In fact there was little of her seen all day, she in her office around the corner, and he at his desk in the bullpen. Luke wondered if she let curiosity get the better of her and opened it, if she didn’t care enough to want to open it, or if she’d pawned it off on someone, not wanting something that reminded her of him. Of them. Too little too late he realized that’s exactly what this would do, be a constant reminder any time she used it.

She was, of course, somewhat curious about what the box could contain. She’d never been in this situation before so had no idea what someone would get another person they wanted to suck up to? Was that what he was doing? Sucking up? Hushing?

Anyway, she had no idea what could be in the very fancy box tied with very pretty ribbon.

And she had work to do.

Penelope stuck it under the far side of her table of servers, out of sight, out of mind…thus not opening it all day wasn’t really an issue.

Except that it was. She could see it there in her mind’s eye below her desk just a few feet from her own feet mocking her all day. And being reminded of the box all day reminded her of him, and being reminded of him all day reminded her of…it. Them. The call. All day. Damn him. Distraction all day. Thoughts straying all day. Getting turned on and frustrated and left in a perpetual state of confusion. All. Day.

————

She struggled to open her apartment door, heavy box balanced between hands and body, bags slipping off her shoulder and jerking at her arm, jostling the carefully distributed weight, but eventually everything made it in without crashing to the ground. Closing the door behind her, she set the box down on her countertop then went back to the door, slipping the bags from the place they’d nestled themselves in the crook of her arm, stowing them away.

She leaned on the wall with a hand as she toed off her heels and shrugged out of her coat, padding into her bedroom to hang it up. Her stomach rumbled and she headed into the kitchen, familiar routine being met. She brewed a cup of tea and made some toast, but the box caught her attention, calling like a siren.

Bread and mug in hand, Penelope came to sit opposite where it lay on her counter, hands and drink resting on either side. For a long moment she just looked at it, the polished dark wood, curling grain, and softly curving edges. This box that made her imagination run wild all afternoon slowing her productivity and breaking the barrier she’d been building in her mind of that night. If HR found out about it, they’d have a field day since he was technically on duty being away on the case.

Should she even bother opening it? Maybe she should just toss it in the nearest dumpster, this regret gift, this guilty conscience reminder and mega-infraction related token of good faith.

But she already knew she wasn’t going to do that.

She’d brought it all the way home, now she needed to open it, see what it contained. He’d said it was more suited for here…What did that mean anyway? Why did this feel so confusing? Why was this so heavy? Uncharted waters. Weird circumstances. Even weirded Alvez. He couldn’t think she’d threaten his job, could he?

No.

Taking a deep drink from her mug, she blew out a breath, readying herself, then slowly opened the lid… Where she saw an array of angular glass bottles, each filled with epsom salt, bubble bath, body scrub, and…oil. They were different shapes and colors, beautiful and heavy. If the dried herbs, dead sea salt, mineral-rich clays, and enriched elixirs were any indication, they were also very expensive.

Fingers dancing over the selection, her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she picked up the bottle of oil, memory taking flight, somewhat angry at herself for still thinking about it.

How the sound of his voice ran goosebumps over her skin, how he described every move he’d make, how when she closed her eyes she could feel him with her like she had that night. She thought about Luke touching her, his fingertips coming to her arm, how she always felt soft for days after he touched her, how even in spite of the dread she’d been feeling, because she knew now it was dread and embarrassment at losing the upper hand, she was still warm and tingly after that phone call. “Do you want to know what I’d do if I were there?” whispered in her ears, a trick of the mind.

She licked her lips, taking another drink, trying and failing to not think about what that meant.

But she did, and now, with the opportunity to find out, she wanted to.

But he apologized! And he was acting all weird!

Don’t be so dramatic, he ended the phone call telling you your bath sounded relaxing and maybe he should try it when he got back. And then he gave you this. He wasn’t talking about soaking in his own tub, dumb-dumb, he was talking about a more up-close, in-person type of sponging.

…They really were beautiful, it would only be right to call him and thank him…Or ask what in the spa days of hell he was playing at and remind him what trouble this could be for them both.

—————

“What is this?” Was brusquely pushed through the phone before he ever got out “Hello.”

Mmm, so she’d opened it. He couldn’t tell how she felt about it, but it was sounding like not good. “I told you, it’s for your bath.” He was trying to sound light, to let her know it was a friendly gesture, he hadn’t meant to goad her.

Hm. No, he didn’t, he did not say bath, he said it had more use at home. “You did not say that, you specifically said-” she began correcting, then stopped.

Stop arguing. Does it matter what the specifics were when what you want to do is something along the lines of being as brazen as he had been? If he could do it, so could you, right? ‘For the bath’, that wasn’t a coincidence.

She turned the bottle over in her hand, thumb brushing silver paper label. “…Anyway this one’s not bath oil. It’s massage oil.”

-Silence-

Shit.

He’d been looking at the company’s full range of oils; massage, body, bath, face, hair, diffuser…there were way more that he thought possible. Honestly, that part was a little overwhelming, but he was pretty sure he’d picked out a bath oil. He definitely remembered…

His hand drifted to the back of his neck, easing the tension flaring from the mixup. She called to confront him. She thought he had done it on purpose and was calling him out on something that wasn’t even his fault when all he was trying to do was make up for fucking up with the first call. Damn it. This was exactly what he got for messing around.

“Penelope, I am so sorry. That wasn’t my intention, they must have made a mistake. I promise, I- I didn’t …”

There was another pause, Luke, trying to think of what he could say to convince her he respected her, that he felt bad, that he was wracked with guilt over the whole thing. He’d never done something like that, definitely not with someone he worked so intimately with, that he didn’t just think- that she wasn’t just an object of lust to him, though she certainly was lust-worthy…He hadn’t done it because he didn’t have anyone…and he wanted more…of her…from her.

While Luke thought how else to respond, if she’d believed him, if he would need to try to explain further, or if she would hang up on him, Penelope considered her next move. He sounded worried, she almost felt guilty…but she liked teasing him.

She audibly inhaled, doing that thing people do before making some sighing mournful statement. Drama, it served her well in places besides community theater. 

“Shame…I was thinking you were offering.”

“I-” He was prepared to declare and grovel, swear and beg, but the words registering were like an iron gate slamming on his thoughts. “What?” That was not what he expected.

“You did say you’d gladly rub every inch of my milky skin, didn’t you? Or was that not your intention either?” Her questions curled through the receiver. She bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t barking up the wrong tree. Going too far had long passed of course, but changes of heart happen, and it was always possible he thought better of continuing a team-partner-whatever-this-could-be given the risk they faced.

Her words flowing out, phantom hands beckoning him, enticing, enchanting. Luke swallowed hard, cautiously stepping towards the ledge, each word spoken with care 

“Penelope, I have every intention of fulfilling that promise. There is nothing I’d like more.”

Hubris filled her, tongue acting where brain was still catching up “Oh, I’m sure I can think of a few things you’ll like more, but it’s a good start…Are you coming to lend a hand this time? Might be a bit tricky on my own.”

Luke could hear the smile in her tease and was already half way back out of his apartment, “I’m on my way, wait up for me, Chica.” jumping on the invitation, all thought of good form and respectfully distant boundaries gone out the window.

She heard his keys clatter and the door slam as he hung up the phone. A digit slipped between her teeth, biting down on her thumb as a pleased grin crept into place. 

Well, that hadn’t been very hard.

——————

This was crazy. This was crazy. Thiswascrazy. He somewhat expected her to have changed her mind by the time he got there, tell him she was kidding, pretend to be asleep -Just not answer the door. He wouldn’t have pushed it, he would have taken the clue and gracefully never brought it up again. What he didn’t expect was Penelope to answer the door half dressed. Or half undressed in front of him.

Penelope, thinking why waste time with dressing up when he’d already seen her work clothes and she invited him here for non-clothed activities, decided to dress down instead, answering the door in little but her robe which despite the reason Luke was 99% sure he was there, still caught him off guard. It covered more of her than he’d ever seen dressed at one time and yet ignited more imagination than anything he’d seen her in that covered less.

Mouth hanging open, his feet stuck to the floor just south of the threshold of her apartment. He was staring, eyes caught with breath at the glowing fuchsia-wrapped sight before him, but then that had been a goal, she was aiming for a reaction. If any doubt of her resolve laid in his mind, it certainly didn’t now.

Penelope shifted straightening, arm coming to wrap around her waist, nerves creeping to the top under his gaping gaze. She had thought it was an appreciative stare at first, but the longer it went on the more unsure she became. Did he think this was too forward? Did it take away the chase and mystique? Maybe this was all too much. Too real? Too inappropriate? “-Are you planning on coming in or are you going to stand out there all night? Because while I like my neighbors and all, I didn’t really plan on them seeing me like this…”

Luke’s gaze, which had been slowly roaming up and down, looping and waving across her expanse, committing every soft drape of this Penelope to memory, snapped back to her face landing first on her eyes, then settling on the small wavering smirk waiting there. Physically responding, in a flash large hands sprung firmly around the smooth satin, feet and legs tangling as he quickly maneuvered her backwards, shutting the door behind them. “What I have planned isn’t really for their eyes either.”

Penelope let out a delighted laugh at the surprising move. Her hands cupped his neck and wrapped around his back returning the enthusiastic hold, “I told you I could think of something you’d like more…”

Luke was already busily burrowing into soft gold and rose curls, lips cascading and brushing. He inhaled deeply, taking in the warmth and freshness of her skin. “You are absolutely right, but I would like to keep my word…” He was keeping her flush against him as he continued to walk them further back, a solid hold low on her hip and high across her back, “You smell amazing. You taste amazing…Did you get started without me?” Words were breathed between sips and nibbles, Luke taking without further invitation.

“Mmm maybe just a little.” she hummed. She might have indulged in a quick shower to keep herself occupied and keep any sneaky creeping nerves from popping up while she waited for him to make his way across the city, and the humidity did wonders for her hair. “Don’t worry, there’s still plenty for you to do”

Luke pulled back, hand cupping her neck, eyes catching, molten and dark. He was going to say something, something clever and biting, flirtatious and ruffling, something to disguise his deep, and deeply consuming tenderness for her, but instead he pulled her in again smothering his feelings with the very real feeling of her soft full lips on his, the stiffness in her body breaking immediately as she gave in readily to this thrilling development between them. Her light quick hands tripping every nerve ending they passed on his body as they made their way over the expanse of Luke, exploring biceps and forearms, broad, tough muscles of his back, and tight but padded chest, nerve endings triggering an autonomic response, thigh coming between thighs, parting robe and legs, hands traveling down below her ass in a gripping dip and grind against her, her tongue on his neck, her earlobe between his teeth, the soft moan as his mouth found hers again.

“mmm…better than I imagined.”

Luke broke away, chuckling softly as his hands released their firm hold on the back of her legs to run up and down her arms. So she’d imagined him? What it would be like with him? Beyond that call. This was looking better and better. “While I’d like to continue this and prove just how right you are, I believe there’s a gifting error I need to make up for.”

Penelope, impatient to get to where they were headed now that they’d started, halfheartedly joked, “No reason one activity can’t transition to another.” She was becoming breathless, the height difference without her heels allowing her nethers get acquainted with his jeans-covered thigh, hips chasing delicious friction, quickly losing interest in the facade. Who cared if it was bath oil, massage oil, or olive oil, if being together was like this; electric, catnip, intoxicating, magnetic, all manner of cliche descriptor.

He was just as eager, unsure if he’d give in, but knowing he wanted it to last longer than a frantic fuck on her entry floor. He kissed her head, hand moving to loosely hang around her. “Lead the way.”

Penelope turned in his hold, delight threading her stomach as Luke’s arms once again tightened around her, hands coming up to massage her breasts, mouth resuming its spot on her neck as they took close awkward steps to her room. She was grateful she knew her way around her own apartment as her head fell to his shoulder and her eyes drifted shut, leading them by instinct.

———————

Having made it to her room without further attachment, Penelope was sliding back on her bed as indicated by Luke who had turned all business with such rapidity she almost laughed.

She thought when she felt the tickling pull of the sash on her waist that they might skip the pretense, but when she turned to face him, attempting to work the buttons of his shirt his hands stopped hers, his voice deep and quiet next to her ear, “Not yet. Take this off, lay down and relax.” He’d finished the cool instruction with a soft squeeze to her hands and the brush of his lips to her cheek.

Relax? How did he think she could possibly do that now?

The sound of him, deep and smooth landing straight between her thighs. Who knew she liked being told what to do? Ok, she did, a little…she also liked giving orders. But how did he know?

She did as asked, robe dropping silently to the floor, Penelope dropping to the bed as Luke glanced around in the golden glow of her room searching, then finding the wooden box. He opened it where it lay on her dresser, fingers rifling then lifting out one of the bottles.

Her heart beat in her ears watching his face in the mirror of her vanity, concentrated but beautiful. She tried to control her breathing, to steady it and keep her pulse from soaring, ignore the fact that here she was, entirely on display, entirely turned on, blushing and hot and out of breath…from just a little kissing. And then his mouth twitched, eyes connecting with hers through the reflection, her cheeks heating at what she knew he’d seen.

Luke turned slowly, holding up the bottle, “Penelope… this doesn’t say massage oil, it says body oil.”

She painted on a crooked frown, sounding thoughtful, if slightly confused. “Hmm, does it? Maybe I wasn’t wearing my glasses…Well, pa-tay-toe, pa-tah-toe.”

His eyebrow peaked, cocky and quizzical, “Luring me here under false pretense, Chica? I could have your job.”

Penelope propped herself up on her forearms looking him up and down, challenging, “You couldn’t do my job, and anyway I’m not the one who started it.”

“Oh, well in that case…” Luke played as if putting the bottle back, meaning to leave.

Penelope shot to her knees, more on edge than she’d felt “Alvez, if you don’t get out of that shirt and on this bed-” Then readjusted, sitting back.

His head ducked, laughing silently as he tossed the bottle over, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, then looked back up at her, bashful, before pulling it off admitting, “I’m glad you weren’t the one to end it, either.”

Slowly, he came closer, eyes fixed on hers, his movements hypnotic. A knee on the bed sinking the mattress down under his weight, his hand coming just behind her ear, bending down, pulling her closer, fingers threading through her hair, lips brushing, Penelope lightly panting and mindlessly rising to follow as he pulled away.

“I suppose it’s not really fair of me to stay so dressed up when you’ve dressed down for the occasion.” he teased again, looming over her.

She wanted to come back with something smart and acidic, but nothing formed so instead Penelope settled on a glare and a scoff, hand pushing at his bare chest.

Luke’s nose and eyes crinkled at the weak assault letting it propel him away, but captured her hand to kiss her fingertips before resolutely shucking his jeans, quickly resuming his previous position, pulling her back into another breath-stealing kiss.

With every glide and press they were incrementally moving back down the bed, Penelope’s hands having gotten no further than the firm swell of his shoulders and the taught tendons of his neck by the time she was fully horizontal with Luke over her.

He was carefully hovering, contact drastically reduced from what they’d started out with in the hall, she could feel the heat trapped between them, but not the warmth of his skin. He was trying to remain respectful, taking things slow, working her up, it wouldn’t fit to come crashing down on top of her smothering her. He wanted to listen to her, respond to her movements.

At the break of a breath, he moved to her jaw, pressing a kiss there, re-leveraging himself to allow for an exploring hand to move from bed to cushioned hip to soft belly, skating up, mouth twisting to meet her throat as her head tilted away and her legs shifted under him. Exploring hand moved to rising breast, his thumb grazing along the hot under seam while fingers settled to work along the side and top, and then his body pitched up and back, full strong lips sucking wet kisses to her chest, 

Penelope gasping, head jerking back down.

It’s not like she’d never had her breasts played with. With that part of her anatomy so prominent, it was often the first place a partner went. Warm-up or not, men always went straight for her boobs, or rather they latched on to her nipples like babies searching for milk. Few had the mind to remember to move their hands like he was, and none as of yet had the musculature his lips seemed to, pulling sensations from tit to tender.

With another swirl of her body and a sweet keen, he moved back north, nipping at the corded muscle and nuzzling at her jaw.

“Turn over, so at least one of us keeps our word.” he directed, quiet and gruff in her ear. If he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t and that just wouldn’t do.

Penelope, falling into a lust-driven haze, felt the constant stop and start was unwarranted given he was the one taking the lead, but again, complied with just a little protest; he hadn’t made a bad move yet, but she still needed to voice her displeasure.

Luke pushed up kneeling above her, legs and knees bracketing her own. She felt the shift in the mattress as he bent over to retrieve the bottle, heard the deep pop of the corked lid, the sandy rasp of oil as he poured it in his palms and rubbed them together to warm the liquid, then again the dip under her legs as he moved backward down her.

To her surprise, he didn’t start at her shoulders, he started down low.

He started at her butt.

Well, her hips, her thighs, really.

His fingers ran deep and constant pressure down the outside of her legs, thumbs pressing in from hip joint to ankle, calling forth raw pain that melted into pleasure. 

She twisted her head to the right, resting her cheek on the pillow, allowing her eyes to close, senses taking over, the unidentifiable herbal scent filling the room and his oil dressed fingers slickly gliding over all of her.

Back and forth, back and forth, his thumbs made short strokes against her calves, Penelope resisting the urge to leap and twitch when he hit a particularly ticklish spot, but never repressing a hum or sigh (or moan), letting him know just how good this felt, how appreciative her body was.

Lower, he cupped her heel, softly flexing and stretching her tendon, then releasing to give the other the same careful attention. Strong fingers wrapped around each toe and knuckles dug into her soles making her feet arch. The dragging friction of oil and skin coasting, blood rushing to capillaries, warming her from the inside out.

She imagined each of his muscles tensing and hardening to push against her own, controlled, smooth, A light moan seeping out as Luke ran over a taught tendon. 

“Your talents are wasted on this criminal hunting business” she sighed into her pillow.

Not wanting to disturb the serenity, Luke murmured back, “I dunno, I think the whole behavioral analyst bit is coming in hand right now.”

If she wasn’t half way to becoming a hot bowl of jelly she might have attempted to twist back and look at him, but instead she just mumbled into the fabric “Oh? And what insights have you gleaned?”

But the question went unanswered, Luke continuing the work it now seemed he was born for in silence.

Up and out, thumbs digging in wide spans, every muscle yielding beneath him, every knot unfurling at his insistence, her body becoming more pliable with every stroke.

As he worked his way back up he placed a tender kiss to the back of each knee, Penelope suppressing a shiver, cool lips a contrast to hot flesh, a promise of what was still to come.

By the time he made his way back up she was dripping with want, the definition of hot and bothered that she’d never really taken time to understand before. His hands gliding tough over the backs of her legs, not stopping when they reached her ass. Gripping and spreading as thumbs arched outward- then stopping- holding her open. Her lips spreading taught with her cheeks, nerves at attention she hung on edge for the anticipated touch. Finally, finally they were getting somewhere. Holding her breath, she waited for the delivered push, the relief, the feeling of those rough fingers teasing wet silken skin, but when nothing came she squirmed without thought.

Luke released her, picking up where he left off, now high across her glutes. Penelope ground into the bed seeking that same friction so deeply anticipated, letting out a quiet moan as her hips rolled, not enough, but something at least.

He thought about it, he was thinking about it; dipping in, feeling her, seeking the reward of his efforts, he strained against it above her seeing the honey waiting for him there, glistening heated lips spreading frustrated, puffy and red. He thought about running a hand through her, finding her and soothing her, he thought about tugging up on her hips and ending the act then and there, taking her wild and hard, unforgiving, hips snapping as she cried out beneath him and tightened around him, bucking and panting into her sheets, slick and sweaty.

But no.

He cut off the thought, letting go and starting again. He didn’t want to rush, he was hoping to make this something memorable, make her feel desired, wanted, needed. He was going to make sure she knew this wasn’t some superficial rebound, this was more than that. Hopefully.

Hands slid up over her ass, the heel of his palms digging into her hip flexors and up her back, something catching his eye, pausing momentarily to read and trace the delicate lettering there.

A mistake.

He could feel every muscle in her tense, seconds of misunderstanding threatening to undo what he just worked to alleviate.

Fuck.

Her eyes squeezed closed, her lungs held tight, her toes clenched and curled. The silly tattoo, two people bonded. Derek. Her everything. The only name she’d ever have on her skin was her own, but it was the one he’d given her. Did Luke connect the dots? What he must be thinking…

He bent down, first, tongue swiping across the word, then, placing what could only be described as open mouthed butterfly kisses to every letter, a display of deference. “Queen, Goddess, temptress, Babygirl.” he murmured, “Throne, temple, altar, bed, makes no difference to me, I praise every supple curve, every line and dimple, every letter on your body. I wouldn’t give up a fraction of you, or risk the whole.”

She felt his hands gently sweep her, unfurling fingers and feet, Penelope releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d stilled in his discovery, but she felt the relief as all of her melted at his actions.

Once he was satisfied she was loose again, Luke’s fingers curled around her traps, tough and strained from staring at screens all day, holding her shoulders to her ears worrying about their loved ones… The pads of his thumbs pushed into the sides of her neck and the base of her skull.

His legs tightened around her thighs as he dipped forward for leverage, a puff of breath blowing from his nose, and his lips just skimming her ear; fantasies born from the sensation invaded her thoughts: his panted breath washing across her neck, his supple lips on her skin, what it was to have him come undone with her, because of her.

But none of that had happened. No, Luke was everywhere doing everything but what she really wanted him to.

For what felt like ages he moved slow and sensual, a deep, insistent undulation of their bodies lulling her. Her back under him rolling and collecting in mounds then slipping away like sand under his hands, wide palms starting low and deep, steady along her spine and across her shoulder blades, pressure switching to squeezing as his rubs cascaded down her sides, fingers slipping just a bit under to feel out breast tissue, caressing it, applying pressure, but never lingering, always continuing.

And then a shift, it started out nearly indecisive, hesitant presses interspersed, a kiss here, a peck there, unsure, attentive to protest. When none came, Luke repeated the action, again and again, incorporating lips with fingers and hands and biceps, kissing up the expanse of her, lips across the backs of her arms and over her neck, mouth gliding with finger strokes. She sighed at the alternating feel; hard, dexterous, sliding fingers and plush, full, muscular lips united in their efforts to remove every bit of solidity from her.

“Penelope” he pressed into her flesh, calling to her, calling her back from the vapid nothingness he’d sunk her into. “Penelope,” A vibrating murmur embedding into her skin, tattooing her name in a font of his own making, she could feel the purr of it, see how it twisted and scrolled. “Penelope,” the need in his voice as he flowed up and over her. Involuntarily, quite subconsciously, she shivered underneath him.

“I need you to turn over”

She resisted, a small sound of satiated protest burrowing into the bedding under her. Luke's hands were magic, Penelope euphoric and lax, body and bed indistinguishable to her senses. She sighed a breath into the pillow, “I am a puddle, Luke Alvez, I cannot move.” Despite wanting to very much, despite wanting what this next part was sure to hold, she couldn’t will the energy yet.

Pride bloomed in him, he knew he was good, but the fact that she’d openly admitted it, doled out a compliment of sorts, even if unintentionally, gave him hope. But he wasn’t done, by all weight and measure he’d only given attention to half her body.

In a move she could only describe as agent kung-fu Penelope found herself on her back blinking up at a smiling Luke kneeling between her knees. The  ~whatever~ he’d done, he’d done so smoothly and with such speed that she couldn’t describe where his hands or arms or legs had gone, or which way she’d been flipped, just that moments ago she was melting face-first into the soft confines of a wonderful kind of hell and now she was sky-ward with a nude and beautifully tanned god-like Luke hovering over her.

She eyed him dazedly, taking in what she hadn’t been so brave to openly look at before; sculpted prominent chest, warm brown nipples, proud Luke, as he should be.

Feeling much the same, Luke gave in momentarily, leaning down, kissing her slow and deep. Her fingers curled around the back of his neck bringing him closer, seemingly brought back to life, her leg snaking around his, brushing, hips undulating as she hummed against his lips, “You can skip this side for now, make it up to me later.”

Luke pulled back breathing a chuckle, “I thought you were a puddle”

She shifted, the cracked ice of his voice working her wildly, “I seemed to have quickly regained some bones” as she said it her other leg curled around his teasing his thigh, a finger reaching out to swirl on his chest,“…and I could really use one mor-”

But before she could finish the innuendo, she was cut off, her bottom lip coated in his, teeth nipping and tongue feeling and lips sucking, movements quickly working into a fervor of kisses rushing towards some unnamed finish line once again.

Too soon Luke took her hands from his neck, parting them, loosely he held each wrist above her head, thumbs brushing a gentle tickle to the sensitive under skin as he took her in. Flush and warm, creamy and soft, Penelope laid out before him ready for feasting; pert nipples on swelling breasts rising and falling with panted breath, a rose pink blush spreading, swollen mouth dropped open ending in that full lower lip he wanted to pull back onto his and never part from.

Penelope wriggled under him, the intensity of his gaze, pupils blown, looking at her like that. There was nothing but a thin coating of their familiar candy brown being swallowed up by an ocean of shining black, and his cock, she could see now, was ridgid and firm, erect and ready, stretching and distorting the fabric of his briefs.

“Now?” Her eyelids drooped heavy and her voice was thick with air, what was meant as a command came out soft and needing. The position, the situation, being held down but holding power, Luke openly, unabashedly, flaunting how much he wanted her, how aroused he was, was one of the most erotic situations she could remember being in, not that she was capable of remembering much at the moment, and in turn set her off even more.

At the sound, his gaze feathered, and without letting go he leaned down again, nose trailing her cheek, his hot breath on the side of her face, her earlobe being pulled in and nibbled before being released and replaced by his velvety whisper “Be patient a little longer, I still haven’t fulfilled part of my pledge.”

He’d gladly lick and rub every inch of her. That he wanted to was what he’d said. She thought it was just dirty talk, the ruse they used to get here, she didn’t expect Luke Alvez to spend the better part of what had to have been an hour basting and sautéing her all while withholding himself. He hadn’t even so much as touched his groin to hers since entering her bedroom, a fact that had not gone unnoticed and a feeling she was now sorely, throbbingly, anxious for. She could feel herself clenching, nearly uncomfortably wet, sticky and hot and sensitive, so ready, so willing.

“Alvez- Luke, please” Penelope wiggled weakly trying to coax some part of him against some part of her unsuccessfully.

Mouth continuing its assault, his lips marched persistently southward, question pressed between them as his hands released to shadow over her, skin buzzing in their wake as he sunk ever lower. “Compromise? There’s still part of you…”

Before he finished he parted her thighs, covering her, securing himself firmly to her clit, sucking hard. Strong tongue lashed, then with a point, circled and pressed roughly to the sensitive nerves, launching her upward, Penelope grinding into his face, hands clawing at his hair, yelling, jolting her to an edge. But just as quickly he backed off, feather light barely there tip caressing, tickling, morphing the angry shriek of his name into a watery moan, Penelope falling back.

Clasped hands secured her hips down, Luke licking long, lavish strokes, tongue rippling over and through the neglected tissue. Penelope hot and slick and sensitive, bucking and mewling and twisting and thrusting, waffling between getting closer and getting away, her hands clawing at and pushing off in a faltering back and forth. She could feel the tight pull starting in her stomach, too much and not enough, muscles constricting, she was going to come on his ghosting tongue. She tried in vain to meet a deeper pressure, to push herself onto him again to get more, but her hips wouldn’t budge from his steadying grip, Luke pulling her through on gentle laps, Penelope convulsing around nothing, squeezing tight, legs shaking around torso. As he felt her come he pressed his tongue hard and flat against her, holding her there, drawing out her orgasm, tongue pushing in time with the beating tremors. Her hands scrabbled through his curls, eyes wound tight as she came again, hard, releasing a final whining sob, immobile hips trying to give a final jerk. Luke licked a few more times, letting her go, sucking kisses and nipping her sweat dampened and oil dipped inner thighs, hands running over her stomach, soothing up and down her sides, Penelope breathing hard.

Coming down she laughed, drawing a curious look from Luke as he tilted his face up towards her from where he was still working between her legs, “Ok, I change my mind.” she said limply, “You can do whatever you want with that part of your face.”

Luke grinned, mischievously placing a final sucking kiss to her upper thigh and advanced back over her, “Whatever I want, huh?”

Her arm was resting overhead covering her eyes, she moved it fractionally to peak at him, “Don’t make me regret it, Alvez.”

“I don’t want you to regret anything, Chica.” He was playing with a strand of her hair that had managed to stay curled and looking at her so sincerely, his voice so light and sweet, she felt caught off guard.

Too soon.

Luke pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and then planted more in rapid succession, allowing them both space to brush away the moment. He kissed the hinge of her jaw nipping lightly and tasted along the column of her throat. Open mouth he dragged, dampening and drinking at her collar and dipped lower to swirl and suction her fevered breasts.

Penelope’s hands combed at his scalp, caressing the back of his head and down his neck, light fingers encouraging and feeling, then pulling him up, wanting his mouth on hers. Luke obliged with demanding pressure, jaw forcing jaw open, his body dropping, breath exchanged. She could feel him lean to one side, arm doing something below, but too distracted to really pay attention, the kiss becoming wide and sloppy and trailing. She felt his mouth open across her still slowing pulse, the slight suction pulling it into his lips, his warm tongue flat and soft on the skin there, and then the light scrape of teeth, mouth gliding closed. He re-centered and lowered himself so that finally his chest was on hers, chest against chest, the sturdy line of abs pressing into her soft belly, the hard line of him against her, and-

The shock of the contact rolling through her, a quick intake of breath, head jerking back and mouth parting, hands shooting down to grip at his shoulders, the jolt she felt below; thick, stiff, and hot, Luke’s cock was parting her lips, threading and anointing himself between her, head brushing and teasing her stimulated clit as he undulated through the leftover dew.

He brought a hand up to push the hair back off her face, resting it gently above her, his eyes seeking hers out, holding them. He was finding it harder to take a steady breath, asking through rough panting, “Is this alright? Do you want me to stop?”

Surprise and sensation evening out, she rolled her hips in return, garnering a stuttered huff from Luke, his cock dipping further in, catching, then gliding up and back over her again. Penelope shook her head “No, this is-” a tight whine breaking up her response, her nails digging in, “This is good.”

“and more?” the words stuck to his mouth, thick and sweet like honey.

She was meeting him grind for grind, calf and ankle vining and trailing around his, shooting shimmers of pleasure up his legs straight to the most heated part of him.

“I would really-” her eyes squeezed shut, face contorting beautifully as a sturdy vein scraped against a particularly sensitive nerve, “Uuunh-” licking her lips, “like more. Yes.”

As much as he wanted more, to be surrounded by her, filling her, feeling her constrict and hold him, he also wanted to stay here in this moment…just a bit longer… seeking pleasure with what they knew…just a bit longer… holding out, lasting, seeing the edge he could bring her to... just..a bit…longer…She was panting under him, chest falling hard with each half exhale before sucking in more air, he could feel heat spike and a fresh wave of soaking wetness…just..a bit…

“Luke-” Her head tightly jerked to the side, bottom lip sucking in, teeth sinking down, hands clutching at his back.

He pushed in, an appreciative groan met her, Penelope wordlessly arching back, head lifting, chest lifting, all of her lifting, overwhelmed, frozen in time. Her vision was dark, so dark, so dark, pitch black. But she could feel him in her, thick and filling and ridged and pulsing, pulsing against her own vibrating come-undone muscles, his thumb brushing her cheek, her breasts rising and falling slick against his, his heart beating to her, and then his soft lips landing on hers, enticing, calming.

He didn’t move, waiting, waiting for her say so, for her ready.

Sucking in a long loud breath, she rolled her hips swooping forward and curving back, both gasping, Luke biting at the join of her neck, then rolling his tongue over and mouthing at her thundering pulse. His hands had moved high around her back, securing her as he pulled them up, Penelope releasing her grip, reached back guiding them to her rounded ass, legs spread wide around him. She placed her hands on his chest feeling his pecks as she rolled into him again, his fingers digging into her soft flesh and hitching his inhale. She placed a swirling kiss to his nipple, Luke anchored under her, but seemingly swelling and hardening within her. Her mouth trailed to his collar, hands splaying and moving down over his hard-earned muscles. She felt him huff and hold back a jerk. Her lips glided over the expanse of skin to suck reverently at his Adam’s apple, and then up and across his taught neck, she could feel his chest rising on hers in short bursts, her teeth trailing up to his ear, another roll of her hips,

“fuck me” she whispered, commanding he move.

Luke breathed out, grip relaxing, hands shifting to hold high on her hips, and then around her middle, pulling out, back, slowly, pushing back in, slowly. He steadied his breath and licked at his lips dragging molasses-like plunges.

The stretch, the pace, nearly painful, all of Penelope collecting in and up. “Come on, Luke” she whined against him, sweet and slow lasting too long, reserve having been the pace from the start. She wanted more, needed more, more friction, more Luke, wild and wanting and taking, a Luke she hadn’t seen before.

“I said, fuck me” growled between them as she used something akin to force to shove him backward. Now sitting atop a delightfully surprised and horizontal Luke, an extended arm holding him down (probably not really) Penelope rose and fell in earnest. He watched in awe as she chased her own pleasure, his hands reaching up to caress her furiously pumping thighs and trace her bracing arms, her breath becoming heavy and face flushing with heat. An unsated sigh fell from her lips, losing steam. This was never her favorite position, it felt good enough, but required too much work in the long-term.

He could feel her slowing, felt her leaning forward, the energy and vigor she previously had waning. Luke took the opportunity to tug at those bracing arms, pulling her down flush, holding her tight to his chest “You want me to fuck you, Chica? Think you can take it?” He held her wrists in one hand between them and her back crushing to him with the other, lips brushing ear, the questions punctuated with sharp thrusts into her.

Penelope cried out, the angle, the abruptness, his tone all new, dark and dripping and deep “aaahtYes!”

He was satisfied to go slow, to explore, and learn, and tease, and taste their first time, but if slow was too much, he was willing to give in to rough and fast.

“You want me to pound into you? Feel you as your needy little cunt chokes down on my cock, begging for more?” Luke gritted, thrusting up, holding her down on him, movements fast and callous. This isn’t how he would normally talk to anyone, let alone Penelope, but something in the moment something about now laid a shift.

“Ye-ye-OOaahh -Yes, Luoooh” She was struggling to move her hands, her hips, all of her held fast to him, by him. She felt his legs arch and hand tighten, rolling them over.

Penelope shrieked and Luke grunted, pushing further in, filling her in a different way, hitting new spots inside. His hipbones dug delightfully into her flesh, finding hers to rub and bruise, Luke moaned, feeling her tighten around him, hot, sopping walls squeezing him firmly.

He gathered a falling thigh with a huffed “nuh-uh” and a shake of his head, pulling it closer, kissing her knee before hooking it around his hip, slamming into her harder again and again, quick and tight, her tits and stomach rippling rhythmically with each thrust. His hand planted above her shoulder and his head dipped pulling her into a soft, tender kiss. Still Luke, still Penelope. The gentleness of his lips a stark contrast to the unyieldingly brutal ram he was meeting her with threatening to send her over the edge.

He could feel her fluttering around him, her stomach tightening under him, her moans and whines getting higher, Penelope close again. He slowed and elongated his movements, stretching out the inevitable, hips rolling deep and strong, the weight of his groin pressing on her clit, rutting a hold before backing out, his body washing into hers with a wave.

Her hands were high on his chest, flexing and clawing erratically, Penelope moaning and crying in his ear. Too much, almost there, yes, just right, just- “Please, please. Luke, oh my god. Please. Just-” she called, breathless, begging him for more, to pull the trigger and make her fall apart. She reached a hand between them in effort, but it was smoothly pulled away and guided to his neck.

“Hold on to me, Chica, wait for me.” he softly muttered to cheek and jaw.

The sight of her, HER, Penelope, beneath him, pleading and begging, and needy for him was what did it. He felt the tightening, everything drawing up, tensing.

The arm at her shoulder wrapped around her, scooping her up bodily, Penelope and Luke joining somehow even deeper in their seated position, a deep moan released on shared breath, lip skating lip, nose brushing nose, eyes fluttering shut. He was whispering and murmuring, deep and low, encouragement, praise, confessions, the call of her name, and the tone of his voice, cadence matching thrust. Her legs tightened constricting, drawing her closer, closer, trying with everything left in her to join him, to be absorbed. She was grinding down and swiveling, soft whispered sentiments and her name crashing humid as he held her waist, her neck, lips trembling with warm breath along her cheek. She couldn’t hold out, Luke sweetly winding her up and setting her off.

“You need to- I’m gonna-“ puffed between breaths. Her body was going lax against his own, hips the only thing still working at her insistence, unwilling to try and hold off any longer, she was coming with or without him.

She felt a large hand skate from limp neck, down her back, giving a squeeze to her thigh before sliding slickly between them. He sucked at her neck and bit down lightly as thick fingers found and polished her, “Do it” rumbling into a shining, shooting Penelope, lungs loudly expelling all air as her orgasm took her, body shaking, walls shrinking, constricting hard and opening, seemingly gasping, only to slam down around him again. Luke continued to thrust and rub automatically as her body sucked and milked his, sending him toppling after, swelling and hardening to shoot and fill her, yelling and gritting his release as his body continued to chase and pump until he was as soft as their caught breathing, only then wrapping both arms around her waist, pressing deep kisses into the side of her neck and shoulder, up to her mouth, lip meeting lip, tongue circling tongue, falling back, taking her with him.

She broke the kiss, face landing next to his, and he almost said it then, words he’d regret if he let them slip, words he wasn’t positive weren’t just part of a post euphoria, words he knew she’d feel were worthless right now. He bit his lip and slid his hands down to squeeze her ass instead.

Penelope slid off him and to his side, leaving a leg draped on his, a hand over his chest and her head tucked into his arm. Things had cooled down, but somehow it didn’t feel like it, everything still charged. They laid there quietly, neither thinking about anything, neither feeling particularly awkward about the event, and neither moving a muscle for a while.

In the silence of the room, Luke’s stomach growled loudly, body obnoxiously demanding sustenance in exchange for activity.

“Sorry” he apologized mildly embarrassed at the volume, fingertips brushing her arm mindlessly, sending little shockwaves to his own system at the feel of her.

Penelope canted her head, a small teasing smile peering up at him, “What? Work up an appetite?”

Luke shook with quiet laughter, “I didn’t have time to make dinner, somebody called me.” he defended.

Her smile turned to a knowing frown, “Me neither” she agreed, and then gasped “And Roxy!?”

Something else was on the tip of his tongue, but his eyes caught something in hers and his reply halted, expression and mind changing. His brows knit as he felt a sudden boldness, bravery.

He closed his mouth, smiling, then opened it again, “How about, I make you both dinner?”

She crinkled her nose as she shook her head, “I still don’t trust your cooking, how about you take me home to your girl and buy me dinner on the way.”

[eyes-on-jesus]

Hi Caroline! ❤️ I am SO sorry because this might be long so take your time to answer please don’t rush!

This is embarrassing and difficult for me to admit but you always make me feel like I can come here to find peace with Jesus and because it’s anon here haha!

My ex boyfriend made me doubt my own faith by constantly telling me that if I was having a bad day or felt a bit sad or tried to talk to him about something he would either tell me I was ‘talking too much’ or acted uninterested or told me that I clearly was not Christian enough or walked with Jesus if I had a bad day yet would then tell me that he’d been sinning the same day he was constantly patronising me. I still felt like he was somehow ‘superior’ at points because of my own human nature and also things he would say to me that would generally make me feel like I would never be good enough (even though for ages my point was to say to him that I believe none of us are and that’s why Jesus died and why we need him) but it was like my own morals and understanding. Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me out of nowhere and blamed me for ‘my’ problems whilst constantly reminding me of things in my past that I gave to Jesus. He did this in public and then told his friends my personal business.

We ended up working things out as friends because we go to the same church and have some of the same friends at church and things actually felt good like I was glad I wasn’t in a relationship with him but like working things out / being civil was at peace. THEN, he tells me again out of nowhere that he doesn’t even want to speak to me or really be around me the day before just the 5 of us from the church were on a trip. He basically said that if I went he wouldn’t and I ended up telling him to just go and I wouldn’t. Jesus has done amazing, wonderful and incredible things in my life - I owe everything to him and right now I feel like I don’t think about this guy *too* much other than seeing him at church etc because he makes a big deal to act ‘holier than thou’ too… I hate that when I see him I honestly feel so angry and sometimes I just don’t want the best for him which is so horrible I know and I cried at my own heart that the very fact I want people to be ok but yet I don’t want the best for him after all of this, it’s like I want him to have some consequences for his actions and it’s horrible that I even think that but also part of me still does care deeply and even after we broke up initially I would have done anything to help him and I did time and time again and he even admitted that he used me and would be toying around with the idea of being close to me or not for his own enjoyment I guess :(

I’m at the point where I appreciate the people (leaders and worship team) at my church SO much beyond anything with how they have helped me. But I also don’t know if I should try to change churches for a while if this is how I feel or if I should even try to stay and deal with it but yeah. I guess any advice you have would be amazing and prayer if you would like to angel 🙏❤️ thank you if you took the time to read this and I hope God blesses your day beyond measure!

Hello dear. Thank you for taking the time to message me all this, I love getting messages and feeling needed so I really appreciate you taking the time.

First I wanna say, your Ex is abusive. What you are describing is literally emotional abuse and it breaks my heart that this happened to you. So many things that you were describing are so messed up on his behalf and it even makes me angry for you reading this.

My opinion is, that you should distance yourself from him and his friends at church and find a group of girls to hang out with that understand you and support you. I would not do group activities with your Ex if it's avoidable in any way. You guys need to grow apart and not be involved in each others lives anymore. It's not healthy for yall to be friends and still have contact. You need to be able to move on and be free from his influence. And have the chance to meet someone new, away from him. I can't stress this enough, stay away from him completely.

About changing churches: Don't. This is your community. These are your people. Do not let an abusive man destroy your life and your love towards all these important connections at church if it's avoidable. If there is real distance between yall and you are in different circles than him, I think you should be ok. I think your most important challenge rn is to find a new group of people to hang with and to entrust yourself to. The only way I would actually switch churches is if He keeps being abusive from afar and ruins your whole experience at church and you don't feel happy there anymore. But that would be so sad. I hope you find solutions.

About mental health: Having a bad day or a rough time does NEVER mean that your relationship with Christ is not strong enough. That's an old fashioned, outdated myth for christians who are not educated about mental health.

About not wishing the best for your ex: I totally understand. I think forgiveness is important but in order to forgive an abuser, there needs to be distance. If He is still active, it's very difficult to not be super angry and resentful, even if that's a bad thing. You need space to forgive. That's normal. Forgiveness doesn't mean staying in each others life and rekindeling relazionship.

I pray that you will find a new friend group at church. That you will create lots and lots of distance between you and your Ex and that you will find people to confide in that support you and that church will be a safe place for you. I pray that you find a group of girls that will become very very close friends. And that if things don't change and Jesus tells you it's time to leave, you will without looking back. I pray for you to be open to love again when it's time and that you will never be with someone abusive again. In Jesus name, Amen ♡

If you want to be friends and talk more, feel free to DM me any time ♡

[starzfield]

“I hoped that if I pushed far enough, you would.”

He answered, honest.

No one like him ? Demons were often arrogant creatures, and Jason wasn’t an exception. Yet, he wasn’t stupid - there were many other demons, many as strong as him - or even stronger.

As great as he was, there was way better.

He could imagine there was no one like him as a person, though. But the man chose to not add anything.

“Am I ? I guess they don’t want to communicate too much about the shame I am for the army.”

It amused him. Of course, a running general wasn’t something they were proud of.

The affirmation surprised him, and light confusion showed up on his face as he stared at her. This sentence was holding more meaning than he was ready to face, so he didn’t. He wouldn’t entirely deny being a coward in some matters.

He was vaguely aware there were still unsaid things, on both sides, but Jason sure wouldn’t be the one to pry. For now his main goal was to organize his life with Nunnally around.

A studying look from blue eyes, the demon trying to guess what his “princess”’s plans were, but to no use. It’s not like Jason cared about humans. They sometimes interested him, at best. Over the years, he met some who were worth some of his time, but he was never tempted to build a real relationship - not even friendship.

So unless it caused chaos in his life, Nunnally could toy with people to her heart’s content. The concept of her being jealous of people in his life didn’t brush his mind, but he would have found it funny.

He also had no idea of the actual chaos that would land on him later, and would definitely not need her powers for that. Jason’s coworkers were the kind to rather jump on a good opportunity to tease the grumpy cook.

“You’re a princess, and either I’m a general or a cook, it’s the same, for us. We can’t change that.”

They were both aware of the reality.

But just like Jason ignored his responsibilities and the danger of running away, he was willing to ignore as well the consequences of her presence here.

A softness against his cheek, and the demon was blinking, troubled. It was embarrassing really, how a simple gesture like that would rock his world. He knew it wasn’t the gesture though, but the person doing it, of course.

It was the same for him. Living on Earth was less worse than Hell, but he was never able to shake the feeling that something, or someone, was missing. Until today.

Such words weren’t said however, the man was still unsure about… Nearly everything. How to go about her, about their relationship.

Yet her words made his eyes widen before sparkling with amusement. As inflexible as Hell’s army had been, around Nunnally was where Jason let happen his rare moment of joy and fun.

His hand slid from her hair to her chin, holding it firmly despite the softness under it. Turning his body and leaning closer to her, only to -

Peck her chin.

Then release her and get away, fighting his grin and mischief without much effort.

“You got your kiss, as requested.”

He pointed out, amusement vibrating in his voice, as he started to tidy the table a bit. “Want a dessert after that ?” She may find in him the respite from being royalty, but he as well found peace in her from the army. And allowed himself to be, a little more. Which translated into teasing her without remorse.

“I was worried first. Anger came much later, but I could have never stayed mad at you for too long. I thought you were well aware of that simple fact."

A moment of silence.

"...and that there’s no-one like you…General…” – she wanted to hurt him, even if only a little bit, in that very moment; for thinking she could have replaced him. For having so little faith in her – “I don’t think you’re officially stripped of your rank…” – she was now looking at him from below the semi-closed eyes; she wasn’t sure why he was not. Perhaps they were waiting till Jason was caught. Perhaps there was another reason. She never dared to ask. Yes, she was a princess, but back there in Hell, even she has her limitations.

“Oh, I know you won’t…” – he never did; that was the truth, but Nunnally was not to give up either – “But I have changed, Jason. Now I am more inclined to simply take what I want.”

“So, perhaps…you’d reconsider…” – she was home. Here with Jason finally being able to j o k e again. Yes, it still hurt, but at least there was again someone for whom she was just Nunnally. Not a princess. Not Her Highness. She desperately wanted to be Nunnally for him. But she couldn’t fully explain that to him. In the same way that he could not tell her if he was (or wasn’t aware) that he did not fit in Hell.

“It’s not the same.” – she finally stated – “You don’t want to use your powers. I don’t mind. It would actually be entertaining to toy with people.” – Nunnally wasn’t sure if she actually thought so, but she assumed that was a nice tiny threat. She was jealous of his life here; jealous that he might have found someone who he might have fancied m o r e than her. She loathed her feelings; it wasn’t why she wanted to find him, but she couldn’t help what she was feeling. And the princess wasn't to fight them.

She chuckled softly. Jason misunderstand her. It didn’t matter. Perhaps even funnier. She’d just appear there and chat with his co-workers. They wouldn’t be able to refuse the princess. Well, she was charming when she wanted to, so she wouldn’t have use her powers; Nunnally assumed.

“I am a princess here.” – she said sternly; like a mother scolding a naughty child – “That’s what never going to change…” – she added this time in a serious and sad voice. It was precisely because she was a princess why things between them were so complicated.

“Even if I wished it could be changed…”

Nunnally didn’t expect Jason would lean into her touch. Surprised, but happy she leaned more into it herself.

(“Jason said he was happy because she was here! Jason said he would want her to stay if that was possible!”); Nunnally thought. She knew it was not truly possible that she could stay, but she could pretend she could. A part of her was afraid she could hurt him in such a way, but another one was certain he’d know. He had lived in Hell. He knew who she was. What she could and what she could not.

A gentle knock from Jason was met with a gentle chuckle. And then she kissed his cheek.

“I am happy, too.”

“I haven’t felt like that…” – since you left – “…for a long time…” – she loved him; there was no doubts about it.

"It's now this part when you kiss me." - she instructed him jokingly. She was waiting for that kiss. 

[stressedberserker]

I think I have gained a fan recently.

The other day Doppo had received a black square box on his desk addressed to him with the symbol for Mantenrou stamped on it. He had a bunch of papers in his hands that had stacked up all the way up to his chin from several other employees. Almost squishing the box he had noticed the white lettering in his peripheral vision which caused him to spill all of the paperwork onto the floor in an effort not to damage it.

Sighing as he turned for a moment to look at the box. Honestly, it could have been a prank someone in the office decided to play. He thought he probably shouldn’t have been as careless as he was, but he couldn’t ignore something so out of the ordinary.

Curiosity got the better of him as he unraveled the white bow.  Opening the lid the scent of well-seasoned meat caused tears to well up in the corners of his eyes. It was a bento with marbled meats, steaming rice, and dewy greens. Truly a sight to behold in such a dreary place. So much so that one of his coworkers came over to check it out.

“Hey, Doppo, since when did you have the time to get a girlfriend?”

Blushing furiously, he scrambled to shut the lid, missing the top several times before he could close it “It-It’s nothing like that! I don’t know who left this for me…” he stammered.

“Well, whoever it’s from you should thank them. That’s some really high quality beef you’ve got there. Certainly more expensive than anyone around here’s salary could afford.”

He was right. There’s no way someone at the office would spend the money it took to make this. Maybe it was Hifumi who decided to do something different for a change… But normally if Hifumi had the time he would just cook for Doppo. And it wasn’t normally something this extravagant. Something else to consider was the stamp on the front. Hifumi wouldn’t do that…

“Kannonzaka, Pick up those papers!” an angered, masculine voice came from across the room.

Gasping as if he had been shocked with a hot wire, Doppo hurried to do as he was told, sliding the papers into a pile and putting them on his already disheveled desk bit by bit. It reminded him that despite the most kind reprieve, Doppo would have to find time to actually eat it. Time that he really didn’t have.

Among the papers, Doppo found a rectangular card that was outlined with a black border. Looking it over, he soon realized it was from the person who had made the bento.

This is to help keep your strength up. I believe in you! 

He flipped the card over, but didn’t see a name. This could be someone who either didn’t want to be named, or someone that could have done something bad to the food and didn’t want evidence against them. 

What kept eating at the office worker was why would someone go that much out of their way for him? Barely anyone who knew Matenrou even recognized Doppo as part of the team. Why would that change now? And why did they think that he was deserving of something so grandiose as a meal that expensive and go even more out of their way to have it delivered?

It looked so good though. And smelled even better.

The worst thing was how it reminded him that he hadn’t eaten anything today. This made his stomach lurch unpleasantly loud. Thankfully, it didn’t look like anyone was really paying enough attention to him to notice the embarrassing sounds coming from his stomach.

But maybe that could be a good excuse. Looking at the time, it was about 4:00 PM meaning it was about to be time for most people to leave. Except for him, of course. If he could just hold off for another few hours he could eat it in peace. No one to look enviously over his shoulder. And most importantly, no one to yell at him for neglecting his work.

Just a few more hours of torture to be able to be able to indulge in reprieve.

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Gifts Them a Handmade Bracelet

Lucifer

“Luci, I made you something for fun but I’m not sure whether you’ll like it or not.”

He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk he was trying to get through. “As long as it’s not another bill like the one Mammon just racked up, I’m sure I’ll like whatever it is. Especially if it’s something you made.”

Blushing, you got up from your chair and quickly slipped the item onto Lucifer’s wrist.

He looked down to see a bracelet made out of elastic and chunky plastic beads. Among the red and black ones, the words “My Light” were spelled out.

“That’s just the way I feel about you sometimes. Whenever it seems like there’s nothing but darkness around me, you’re always there to guide me toward the light, toward better and happier times. You’ve saved me so many times.”

You looked at the bracelet on his wrist and suddenly felt self-conscious at how cheap it looked against the elegance of his RAD uniform. Lucifer seemed to be frozen in shock as well; he sat at his desk silent and unmoving.

“If...If you want I can take it back! Sorry, I just thought-”

Your sentence was interrupted by the full force of Lucifer crushing you into a hug. He tucked your head underneath his chin and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“I love it. I love you. You make my every day brighter by being with me. I can’t express how much I care-” He cut himself off, feeling his throat tighten with sudden emotion.

You hugged him back just as tightly. “Love you always, my light.”

Mammon

You were cuddling together on the couch, watching a movie. Mammon had his arms around you, one hand holding yours and the other tracing patterns on your thigh.

With your free hand you reached into your pocket to pull out the bracelet you had made earlier in the day. Bright yellow smiley face beads surrounded the word "Priceless".

"What's that babe?"

"I made it for you! Sorry it's not super fancy or anything. But I saw these beads today at the craft store and they reminded me of you. You make me smile all the time because you're such a goober."

Mammon grinned and acted mock-offended. "Hey! Is that any way to treat your first man?"

You continued, "And also, you're priceless to me Mammon. You know that right? I wouldn't trade you for anything. Not even all the Grimm in the world. You make me feel so happy and loved."

You heard Mammon's sudden intake of breath. "Y-You really have no problem saying such embarrassing things, huh." His ears and cheeks were bright red.

You thought that was the end of the conversation but a few minutes later you heard Mammon whispering into your hair. "My treasure, I love ya so much. What did I ever do to deserve ya."

"You deserve to be happy Mammon, you deserve all the good in the world. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. I love you."

Leviathan

You were in his room, him playing a game and you putting the finishing touches on the bracelet you were making. Shiny blue beads with wave patterns on them surrounded the words “My Rock”. 

Quietly, so you wouldn’t interrupt his game, you placed the finished bracelet on his desk and moved to sit back down in your chair. Suddenly, his arm shot out to grab your wrist. He had paused his game and slid his headset slightly aside to ask: “MC, what is this?”

“Oh, I finished making this for you. Y-You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it! But... I just wanted to give you a small present.”

Hand still holding your wrist, Levi wordlessly picked up the bracelet and examined it in the light. 

“Um... you know how my favorite animal is the otter? Well otters sometimes have a favorite rock that they keep in their pocket. And you’re my favorite, you know? Also you’re my rock because you keep me grounded a lot. Like when I get all anxious and stressed out you help calm me down. Whether it’s just cuddling or playing a game together, being with you is so peaceful.”

As you continued to ramble nervously, Levi’s cheeks began to grow redder and redder. “You really made this for me? This isn’t like a pity gift is it? Are you sure you want to give this to a-an otaku like me?”

You sighed and moved to wrap your arms around his neck. “Levi, you know I would never gift you something because I ‘pity you’. And also, I don’t understand what being an otaku has to do with anything. I’m giving you this because I love you, all parts of you.”

Levi looked at the bracelet for a moment longer before quickly slipping it onto his wrist. “I-I really like it. Thanks, MC.” He seemed to be gathering up his courage for something and letting out a deep breath he turned around to give you a quick kiss.

“S-Sorry! Sorry, I just... I’ve never received anything like this. I like you a lot, you know?”

You returned his kiss with one of your own. “I know.”

Satan

You had finished a light lunch together and now were browsing Satan’s favorite bookstore. He was looking at the history section while you were pretending to look at the bookmarks, gathering up your courage to give him his gift.

You were worried a bit that he wouldn’t like it. The bracelet itself was made out of inexpensive materials, emerald color beads and beads that spelled out “Beloved”. It didn’t seem like the type of thing Satan would wear.

He interrupted your thoughts with a tap on your shoulder. “Everything okay, MC?”

“Yeah, I was just...” With a sigh you held out the bracelet to him, there was really no point in stalling. “I made this for you. I understand if it’s not really your thing but just know the message is genuine.”

He pinched the bracelet between two fingers and began to examine it. "Beloved, huh?” His lips were quirked in a smug smile.

“Don’t tease me. But y-yeah, you’re my beloved. I never thought I’d meet someone like you here, you know? You feel like you fit right against my heart, like you’re my soulmate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

All of the amusement was wiped off of Satan’s face and his eyes seemed to burn into you, the way he was staring at you. He deliberately rolled up the cuff of his RAD uniform slowly and made sure you were watching as he put on the bracelet, turning it this way and that to examine it. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t have to think about that, pet. Because trust me when I say that I’m never going to leave you. You’re stuck with me forever.”

With a wet laugh you rushed to hug him, burying your face into his chest. “That doesn’t sound bad to me at all.”

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo’s room, helping him paint his nails. His left hand was already finished and you watched him blow on the nails, trying to dry them. He held out his other hand for you and you pretended to fiddle with the nail polish before quickly slipping on the bracelet you had made for him earlier.

“MC, what is this?” Asmo looked at the bracelet, soft pink heart-shaped crystals surrounded beads that spelled out “Jewel Of My Heart”.

“Well, I know it’s nothing much compared to the jewelry you already have” you said, nodding toward Asmo’s vanity which held a variety of sparkling necklaces and earrings. “But I wanted to give you something handmade.”

“Oh, it’s so cute darling! I love it!” Asmo pulled out his cellphone and started trying to take pictures of his wrist from different angles. “Can you help me, MC? My nails are still a bit wet and I don’t want to ruin them. But I also want to post a picture to Devilgram immediately!”

You chuckled and took Asmo’s phone from him, trying to move his wrist to get it in frame. 

“I know you’re not the Jewel of the Heavens anymore. But I think of you as the jewel to my heart. You’re beautiful, Asmo. Not just the way you look but the way you’re able to find beauty in everything. Even in me, no matter how terrible I feel sometimes.”

Asmo had gone silent and you looked up to see him biting his lips, his eyes widened. “MC, that’s cheating. You can’t say things like that when I can’t even give you a proper hug right now. Ugh, you’re too adorable.”

Smiling, you held up his hand and pressed a gentle kiss against it. Asmo inhaled sharply.

“Darling, I think we can finish the other hand at a later time. Right now, there are other pressing matters I’d like to get to.” Asmo’s eyes had turned lustful and he quickly scooped you up and led you toward his bed.

Beelzebub

You were in the kitchen together, Beel helping you test a new pie recipe. Well, he was doing more eating than testing, letting out small whines until you gave in and fed him spoonfuls of fruit filling. 

It was warm and peaceful, the smell of sugar and vanilla in the air as you mixed a pot on the stove and Beel leaned against the countertop.

“Oh Beel, before I forget.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a bracelet made up of small orange beads and plastic teddy bear-shaped beads. In the middle were the words “My Strength”.

You helped him slide it on his wrist and smiled at his confused look. “I made this for you today. I saw these beads and thought instantly of you, ‘cause I always call you my giant teddy bear.” For emphasis you gave him a hug and laughed at how small you felt in his arms.

“And also, I think of you as my strength. You’re super strong, yeah, but not just physically. You’ve always been there for me, whenever I felt down or scared or sad. You give me strength when I need it most. And I hope that I can lend you some of my strength too for whenever you need it.”

As Beel looked down at the bracelet, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re cute, MC. Thank you for the gift. And you make me stronger every day by just being with me. I hope we can be together forever.”

You reached up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and he returned it with a sudden passionate one on your lips.

The two of you stood kissing for a few moments longer until you broke away from him, smelling burning sugar. “Oh god, the filling is burning! Quick, turn off the stove!”

Beel looked into the pot, which had turned from a deep red cherry color to almost black, and shrugged. “Eh, I’ll still eat it.”

Belphegor

You don’t know how long you had been napping for, but you woke up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You were warm and comfortable, one of Belphie’s legs wrapped around your own and his arm across your stomach. 

Looking down at his wrist you realized it was the perfect opportunity and slipped the bracelet out from your pajama pocket. The square lilac-colored beads looked cute against his wrist and you made sure the words “My Comfort” were facing the right way up so that Belphie would spot them when he woke up. 

You thought it would have been easy to give him his gift undetected, considering how much of a deep-sleeper he was, but at your movement Belphie scrunched up his nose and slowly opened his eyes.

“MC?” His voice was bleary from sleep. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing babe, go back to sleep.” He nodded and turned to face the other way but must have felt the beads pressing into his wrist. Confused he lifted his arm up and squinted at the bracelet. “What is this?”

You sighed, a bit nervous at how he would react. “I made it for you. It’s nothing fancy but I’ve been wanting to give you something for a while now. Something to remind you of me.”

He ran his fingers along the beads and mouthed the words “My Comfort”.

“That’s what you are to me. Comfort. When the world is too loud and my thoughts are too jumbled, you help make things quiet. You’re like a warm blanket that can muffle out the bad and the scary. I just hope that you’re as comfortable with me as I am with you.”

He remained silent for a while, rolling one of the beads between his fingers. Finally, he moved to bring your wrist to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on the inside of your wrist and then the center of your palm.

“I never thought I would get to have this, you know. A kind of love like this.” He rolled over so that you were face to face and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t ever leave me, okay?”