#my nightly routine is lying on my back for a bit to let the pain subside to some extent

[faggotry-enjoyer]

so fucked up that "most comfortable position" and "least painful position" are Not the same.

[demonicdames]

A little writing project of mine that I have on A03 that I'm going to throw here to. Rated: E F/M Papa Emeritus II x F!Reader Cardinal Copia x F!Reader (Later chaps) Part 1

When you reached your dorm room you collapsed onto your couch, most of the rooms were set up the same way and decorated the same way as well. Your eyes stared up at the ceiling thinking about the last few hours thanks to the ache that throbbed between your legs, usually you'd come back get washed, slip into your nightwear, and sleep you barely had enough energy to get back to your dorm room. You willed yourself to get up to perform your nightly routine.

The warm water felt nice on your skin, your eyes looked down at your thighs seeing the bruising starting to darken touching them you flinched slightly. "Fuck."

You cursed under your breath your head lying against the back of the tub. When cleaned you got out of the tub and headed out grabbing your towel and drying off before slipping into your nightwear for the evening. As soon as you settled into bed, you heard a knock at the door making you grumble several curses under your breath, figures just when you had gotten comfortable.

Getting up finally you answered the door only to be face to face with Sister Imperator, the sight of the older woman made you stand a bit straighter. "Sister." You greeted to which she nodded."I've come to congratulate you on your years of hard work for the ministry, at first I had my doubts about you but you have made quite the impact and I felt that something needed to be said." You didn't know what to say to that, it wasn't often that others acknowledged your work, well aside from the Papas. You and Sister Imperator exchanged words before closing the door, well you felt a little better now which made falling asleep easier. The next day started the same; get up, get dressed, collect your things, and head to your job with Secondo. "Sorella!, sorella!." You heard Copia call jogging down the hall. "Cardinal careful not to trip!." As if on cue the Cardinal did just that but thankfully you caught him in time, keeping him from hitting the hard floor. "Sorry sorry sorry." He spoke righting himself fixing his hat, leather gloved hands held up as he checked you over to make sure you were alright. "It's fine, no worries Cardinal I'm okay, what's up?." He paused thinking his mismatched eyes looking left to right. "Ehhhhh..... ah oh! sì sì sì yes ah-." The Cardinal held up a folder. "Sister told me to deliver this to you personally." You looked at the folder it wasn't like the other's that you handled, black with the grucifix symbol in the center. "What is it?." You asked taking the folder from him and looking it over.

"Ah eh- I don't know she told me not to look at it." You couldn't help the smile that came to your lips, Copia was cute and sweet almost innocent. "Thank you, Cardinal I will take care of it." "She also told me to tell you not to let the others see it, apparently it is top secret." "Top secret." You repeated. He gave you a thumbs up which you returned with a laugh before he headed off. With a sigh and shaking your head, the folder was slipped into your messenger bag as you headed to Secondos office. You slowly opened the door and saw him sitting at his desk. "Evening Sorella." He greeted "Evening Sec-." You paused as he looked up at you his eyes holding their usual cold stare. "Sir." You corrected yourself as you moved to take a seat twitching slightly at the small pang of pain between your legs. "Are you alright?." He asked not looking up from the page he signed and set into the newly emptied basket. "Yes, I'm okay Sir." You replied as you started in on your work for that evening, your mind going back to that folder that the Cardinal had given you, wondering what was in it. You looked over at Secondo watching him, pausing in your work your mind wandering, going back to the night before when Secondo had you pinned to his couch. You breathed in as you felt a throb between your legs this one however wasn't of pain and it made your face grow warm.

You adverted your gaze as Secondo looked your way studying you, the way your hair moved when you looked from page to page, how your eyes darted back and forth while reading. He could remember how you were laid out on his couch moaning and calling out his name in pleasure, how many times he'd tasted you and lavished your body. Secondo could feel his cock twitch in his pants in response to his thoughts, his mind traveling further making him want you again there on his desk. Secondo cleared his throat as he looked over at you. "Sorella?." He asked making you look up from your work. "Yes Sir?." Standing from your seat hands folded in front of yourself. "Come here cara." He beckoned you over with his pointer and middle as you approached he then patted his lap. You felt your face getting warmer as you continue, taking your new seat upon his lap your back against his chest, Secondo's chin resting on your shoulder soft painted lips pressing a kiss on your neck. You could feel his hard cock press up against your ass making your cheeks burn bright. Secondo smothered his face into the crook of your neck his hands traveling the length of your body your habit being inched up.

"S-Sirr." You gasped as he pushed your legs open. "Pl-Please sir I-I'm still sore." You whispered as his hand came down to cup your aching pussy. "Aww, my little assistant is sore, eh?." Secondo spoke against her neck. "Why are you so sore cara?." He asked making your face go bright red. "You-you know wh-why Sir-." His hands gave your thighs a tight warning squeeze a growl followed, demanding an answer. "You fucked me." You replied quietly gasping as Secondo slipped two fingers into your panties, slipping them between your lips and rolling them over your clit. "You are already dripping for me cara mia." You hated it, you hated that he was right, between his touch and the thoughts of the night before your body was aching in more ways than one. A knock at the office door made the both of you stop and look forward, Secondo fixed himself up as the door started to open, you didn't have enough time to run back to your desk so you slid down under his.

You could hear a one-sided conversation starting, one of the voices you recognized was Sister Imperator's, you tried to listen closely but the tent in Secondo's pants caught your attention. A sly grin appeared on your face leaning over pressing a kiss against the bulge, Secondo's hand slipped under the desk in an attempt to shoo you away, which was unsuccessful.

Working it free from its clothed prison you could hear Sister ask if Secondo was alright that he seemed a little jumpy and certainly out of character. Reassuring the Sister he was fine. 'Fine for now' you mouthed before leaning forward and licking at the tip of his cock head collecting the bead of precum. For once you felt in power as you sucked the Emeritus's cock into your mouth his leg giving a twitch as he settled in your throat. Pulling back you swallowed him down again and again, up above Secondo remained calm cool, and collected his lips pressed into a thin line as Sister Imperator went on and on. He wasn't paying attention to her or what she dribbled on about, his mind was on the soft throat that was currently gagging on his cock.

Finally, after what seemed like hours Sister Imperator finished and left the room. Secondo, wasting no time slid his chair back his cock being pulled free from your messy lips. "You, my little minx are in so much trouble."

Secondo had you bent over his desk. "Don't move Cara." His hand slid down along your sides before leaving to lock the door to avoid any more interruptions. Secondo returned pushing his chair away with a tap of his foot your habit being slipped up around your waist. The Emeritus's hands moved to slide over your asscheeks squeezing, palming, and kneading each globe before giving your ass a hard smack causing you to jump gasping out a whimper as his hand smoothed over your reddening cheek.

  Secondo hooked his fingers into your panties waistband tugging them down slowly, watching as the fabric came away from your pussy. Secondo leaned over resting his chest on your back, his lips against the shell of your ear cock resting against the folds of your cunt his hips rolling slowly covering his cock in your wetness. 

The Emeritus pulled away leaving your cunt throbbing with need, your legs shaking you wanted him to slam into you and take you as hard as he could. Your body jumped feeling something cold against your cunt tapping your lips with the hard corner following the edge of your slit up the curve of your ass. You were about to ask when the object came down stinging your ass making you cry out, a ruler, he was spanking you with a damned ruler! you looked over your shoulder at him gasping as he smacked the wooden tool against your ass again making you curse under your breath. 

 This was downright degrading you were getting a ruler to the ass like some misbehaved child. "Second-." He gave you a harder smack of the ruler making you whimper.  "It is Sir in the office, remember Tesoro?." He smirked as he struck you again your hand balling into fists against the desk. "S-Sir." You breathed biting your bottom lip as another smack was given to your rear. 

You blinked as the smacks stopped- or so you thought, Secondo's hand replaced the ruler as he spanked your ass stinging it again and again alternating between the blows and rubbing. His breathing was getting heavier the next spank went right to your pussy stinging and making you jump, he didn't stop until your ass and sex were both bright red. 

 "I think you've learned your lesson eh?, cara mia?." Secondo chuckled as he moved from you sitting back in his chair. "Redress Tesoro, it's almost time to leave."  You turned and pouted. "But-but-." 

"No, butt's cara." frowning you pulled your panties back up and dropped your habit back into place smoothing the skirt out, grimacing at the stinging and the wetness between your legs while you left the office walking a tad bit funny, unaware that there were eye's watching you your scent attracting several ghouls attention. --To be continued--

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.

Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff

Word count: 2,526

AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo

Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you

The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.

“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.

The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.

“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.

“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.

The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.

“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.

“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.

“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”

“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.

Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.

Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.

“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.

“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.

“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.

I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit

Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.

His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.

The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.

It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.

“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.

She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”

“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.

She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”

“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.

She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”

“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”

“You could have killed him.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”

“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.

He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”

She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.

You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me

Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.

A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.

Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.

“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”

“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.

“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.

“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.

“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.

It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.

“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.

Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”

He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”

“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.

The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”

She was unable to contain her giggles.

I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me

“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.

“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.

“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.

“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.

“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.

I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name

Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.

“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.

“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.

Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.

Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”

Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)

[dreamkidddream]

So my birthday is on April Fools, (how deserving 🤪) and I decided to be self indulgent again and write something! These are short and reader is gender neutral!

WARNING: Lesson 16 spoilers in Beel and Belphie’s part (nothing too heavy but read their sections at your own risks)

The Brothers Celebrating your Birthday!

Lucifer

Expect the most grandest/high class celebration you’ve ever seen MC!

As much as he’s not a morning demon, he’s got a noticeable pep in his step this morning because it’s your special day

Expect him to be one of the first people to text you at midnight because he’s still up doing paperwork

But don’t worry, he won’t be doing any work when it’s time to celebrate

Little messages throughout the day, hinting at something big to come along with small gifts (atleast to him) such as: new outfits, lunch at Ristorante Six with him, basically stuff that he pleases you both and that he would love to see you in (not that he would ever tell you)

Expect his gifts to be high quality too (ie. very expensive)

You expected a huge party, but you didn’t expect him to get so sentimental

After everything ended, you ended up in his room, with him just holding you in his lap, unconsciously caressing you with his mind deep in thought

The impact that you made on his brothers- the impact that you made just on him- it’s far bigger than you could imagine. And that scares him

He’s gotten so close to you that he forgot that you can’t stay here forever, both in the Devildom and mortality. What would he do when you have to leave his brothers? When you have to leave him? It makes his chest pang with pain every time the thought crosses his mind, but he refuses to let it ruin the moments he does get to spend with you

You’ll never know how grateful he is for deep down, and he never wants to lose you. Who would have thought that the mighty firstborn would fall so deep for a mere human?

Mammon

ITS PARTY TIME

Get ready to have the best birthday ever with no one other than the Great Mammon!

Tries to be the first one to tell you, fell asleep and immediately felt bad

Celebrates your birthday like a national holiday but is still somehow tsundere about it. He’s only being like this because you don’t know how to party, and he doesn’t want to hear you complain later, got it?!

Has his crows bring you small gifts leading up to the big party. Bracelets, candy, mini love letters that he swore that he threw away...

Definitely snuck off during your party, because he wanted to hand you his gift personally (and he didn’t want to hear his brothers say anything about it). Prays (how ironic) that you don’t hate it, tears up when you say that you love it

Definitely got some kisses as thanks and can expect some more later

He just really appreciates and loves you okay? You’re important to him, and today’s the day that you were brought into the world, the reason that he’s able to look forward to something everyday. You’ve made a change in everyone’s lives, even that grouch Lucifer, and he has to say thanks somehow

Plus, you’re important to him- so he does see this as a special day regardless of what comes out of his mouth. He still gets embarrassed about being emotional, but he makes sure that you know that he loves you

He always will

Leviathan

It’s just another day normie, nothing special...

Hey quit trying to figure out what he’s hiding behind his back! He doesn’t have anything okay?! It’s nothing! And ignore that he called you, he just butt dialed you and didn’t expect you to answer! And he just decided to say happy birthday because everyone else was, not because he actually cares!

He is so stumped on how he’s going to celebrate your birthday, he hasn’t stressed about something non-otaku like this in decades. He’s so anxious that he’ll ruin your big day. What if he gets you something and you hate it and then hate him?!!

This day is making him more nervous than it should, but he can’t help it! You’re his best friend, a person that he can confidently say that he’s fortunate enough to know and that he loves-

OKAY he can’t exactly say it out loud yet without turning 50 shades of red, but he really does. He just needs a way to show it

Believe it or not, he was too excited to wait to tell you his gift after the party, so he told you after he said happy birthday. Free range to his manga collection??? What could be better than that?! The perfect gift if you asked him

Plus he rather you be holed up with him in his room than being anywhere else. That’s how it should be: just his Henry, his anime/manga/game collection, and Henry 2.0

It’s the least that he can do for how much you’ve been there for him, and even though he still has a hard time saying how he really feels, he hopes that this atleast gives you a glimpse into his true feelings

Ugh this feels like he’s a love interest in an otome game or something...

Satan

Honestly is the chillest of them all

Don’t get me wrong he’s super excited like everyone else, but he has a very detailed itinerary that you both need to follow for today, starting with breakfast.

Get down here before Beel eats your breakfast!

He made it with all of your favorite activities and places, along with things that he just knew you’ll love (and him too, but seeing you smiling is more than enough to make him content). He put a lot of effort into this whole day, especially with your gift

He put thought into it (no surprise there), he didn’t want to give you just anything and he has to one-up Lucifer and he needed to give you something to show you how much of a change you’ve been in his life. How much you influenced him to make better choices when it comes to channeling his anger and rage

He got you a magic photo album last year, and the way that you reacted to that (which was obviously positive), the pressure is on this year to impress you even more

Which he ended up doing! But he won’t lie, he was just a tad bit nervous in disappointing you, but everything worked out well, so you didn’t need to know!

Although, he did feel a bit shy in handing you his gift, he felt relieved in seeing you accept it so quickly

Also invited you to read any of his books, and even offered to teach you some spells, both safe and simple enough to where it won’t cause any real damage to anyone. Might teach you a spell to spite Lucifer to make the LYS club proud

You don’t know how much you mean to his brothers, how much you mean to him. You’ve made a bigger impact that you think, and while he knows that nothing he does will ever show you how eternally thankful he is for your presence, he at least wants to show you a sliver of his appreciation. What better way than the day you came into the world?

Also expect him to try and fluster you the whole day. You’re too cute for him to leave you alone, and your reactions are better than that brand new cat cafe

Actually he might have to test that theory, and the only way to do that is if you both visit the cafe. Either way he’s not complaining! Cats and you? A match to die for

Asmodeus

You’re the only reason he’ll interrupt his beauty sleep

Wants bragging rights to say that he told you happy birthday first

Today is a big day after all! It’s the day that you came into the world, and that you’re able to even be down here with him- I mean them!

Will be your designated fashion designer. All your outfits already have to not only be on point, but they have to be iconic. No exceptions! Doesn’t matter if you’re just going to Purgatory Hall, you’re going there in style!

Gifts are in style too! He got you stuff that you would absolutely fall in love with. He’s not that self centered, give him some credit MC!

After the big celebration with everyone, of course you’re going out to The Fall! He has to show you off of course, it would be a crime if he didn’t

But once everything is over and you guys are home, he takes his time in doing his nightly routine on you both. Honestly just basking in your glow and just enjoying you. No sharing, no interruptions, just you and him

He catches himself thinking that there’s no way he can love someone more than he can love himself, it’s impossible, it has to be

But he loves you so much that he’s starting to doubt that theory

But would that really be a problem?

Beelzebub

He’s so excited! And he takes today VERY seriously

He’s gonna make sure you eat SO GOOD today that Lord Diavolo would be jealous

As soon as you get up you guys are hitting every restaurant and I mean EVERY

You’re getting the best of the best because you deserve the best

And as a gift he got you so much food that you’ll probably have enough to last you both for the rest of the year...if he doesn’t eat it all

He knows that food is his thing, but he got you so much because he knows that it makes him happy, and he wants you to feel the same way. It makes him feel all warm inside, and when you’re with him it’s like he’s eating all of his favorites at once, but even better

And you guys eating food together?? It makes him feel like he’s back in the Celestial Realm again

But I feel like with Beel, another way he shows love is through acts of service and quality time. For him, even if you guys are doing absolutely nothing, he’s 100% in bliss

So his gift to you was in the way of snacks to share and having him at your mercy (not that you would ever take advantage of him like that). Also promising to take you wherever you want, it’s your day!

You see past his sin, and enjoy Beel for Beel. You don’t just see him as Gluttony, you helped bring his twin back to him, you even sleep and listen to him after his nightmares of Lilith. It’s only right to show gratitude for all that you’ve done on your birthday

And all of his brothers love you, especially him. You’re basically family at this point, and no takebacks either

Just don’t leave him MC, you’ve became a big part of his life now, and he honestly would be very sad without you

Belphegor

There’s no way that this sleepy king can stay up until midnight so you’ll get your happy birthday when he sees you in the morning (if he’s up)

No but fr in the game he DOES NOT CALL YOU OR EVEN TEXT!!! LIKE I STAYED UP THINKING HE FELL ASLEEP AND HE JUST STRAIGHT UP- okay sorry back to the headcannons 😭

He’s very optimistic on the inside trust me, he just doesn’t show it very well on the outside, but he’s trying!

He can’t help it that he’s sleepy but...you put some energy back into him, and he is ecstatic about celebrating with you, he just has a hard time showing it

His brothers were a little peeved about his nonchalant attitude AND not getting you a gift, but Beel already knows what his twin is doing, he just didn���t want anyone else to know because he wanted everything to be perfect

After the party, he snuck you away to the planetarium, which is designated as your sacred spot. This was nothing new, but you still laid in awe cuddled with Belphie looking up at the sky

But tonight was different, as the stars up above spelled out...your name? And did that star basically let out miniature fireworks? And are those stars over there shaped as a cow and mooing?

Seeing your eyes light up meant that it was worth it to skip out on some of his naps to talk to Solomon and practice out some new spells (but you won’t ever know that)

Belphie really cares about you. Really cares about you. No matter how much he may be sarcastic or act like things aren’t a big deal, they are to him, especially when it comes to you. After the ill-fated events in the attic, he would have not been surprised if you hated him and want nothing to do with him ever again; it was his fault after all, he couldn’t be upset with you. But you were willing to forgive him, and start over

MC, you will never know how much indebted he is to you. You’re the reason that he’s out of the attic and reconnected with his twins again, the reason that he’s apart of the family and not separated. Yes, he still has some issues that he may need to work on for himself, but he’s able to take the right step because of you

He doesn’t really have a choice in celebrating your birthday (at least to him but he’s gonna celebrate either way), because without you, he doesn’t know where he would end up at, he would be lost. He owes you enough to see you safe and happy, and he swears that he will keep you that way. A happy and safe MC means a satisfied Belphie

And having you curled up in his side, going on about the show he planned, has him feeling very light, and he can’t help but wonder if this is how his sister felt

If it is, he can’t help but start to see everything a little clearer now

[qianoir]

Divine Lies

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Guardian angel!Winwin (WayV) x human fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 13+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (censored), lying, stealing, cheating, family problems, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, brief mention of sex, abandonment, blasphemy, reader is an implied only child

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4K

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @staysstrays

Preview

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I have worked as a guardian with the style of Lucifer. “Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image,” I have reversed this commandment and given it life to a body of the soul I vowed to protect. Cast upon me a punishment, for I have wandered too far from your holy grail.

Si Cheng Dong, Guardian Angel #1028

Si Cheng knew you from the day you were born. You had marks dangling from your shoulder blades like the torn wings of an angel. He had asked God about the dainty marks, but He said his eyes must be tempted by the Demon of Trickery because no marks appeared to be decorating your back as he said. When he is assigned one of His children to protect, he knows nothing of God’s plan that is unique to every one person. His plan and your decisions were lived through Si Cheng’s eyes as well.

“What is behind your back?” Si Cheng interrogated your five year old self.

“Nothing…” He yanked your hands to unclasp, forcing them to drop the chocolate you had stolen from the convenient store you and your parents had just left.

“Your mother said you could not have this, yet you took it anyway and without paying. That is wrong.” You could only look with deceptively innocent eyes as your guardian took the sweet into the store, placing it back on the shelf you had tip-toed up to.

“Come on, Y/N dear.” Your mother called for you to follow her and your father to the car. There was no sight of Si Cheng, even when you had gotten into the car. Only a couple of miles from the store did he appear in the seat next to you. He looked over to see your closed mouth moving ever so slightly.

“What is in your mouth?” You shook your head and continued to chew slowly, trying to be as unapparent as possible. He continued to stare you down in silence, watching as you finally swallowed what he felt in his heart was something else that you stole. Breaking the intense eye contact, you turned around to look out of the car window. The ride was already silent, but a darkly mixed feel swam in your spine after Si Cheng’s next comment.

“Thou shalt not steal. You will be punished for that sin.”

...

As you blossomed into adulthood, the divine morals you had been taught by your covenant Christian parents seemed to have exited your mind. You were one of the top names of your college's Dean’s list, but the your personal out-of-school extracurriculars could mistake you for a completely different person. Your academic abilities were almost God-given, yet you showed Him no gratitude.

Si Cheng had been by your side to witness each time you strayed away from God. However, it was not his place to direct you back to Him, that choice was wholly your own. Each night since you turned 18, after reading his Bible out loud to you, he left for Heaven. You always told him that you would be in bed through the night, awaiting his return.

Those nights were spent sleeping through the day and partying at different clubs, downing bottles of red wine like a Black Christian. During one night out, you had thrown an empty bottle of Giuseppe Quintarelli into the unknown while walking out of the club; an incident you had forgotten until two police officers showed up on your doorstep with pictures from the club’s security cameras, portraying your indecent act.

Not much of the confrontation could be interpreted or remembered in your hazily hungover brain, but you do remember everything after you shouted a very pathetic “That’s not me!” because your hands were cuffed behind your waist and soon anxiously gripping the bars of the chair behind you at the station.

“What happened?” Si Cheng walked out of the wall when the police left you alone to discuss your charges.

“I forgot to pay for chocolate at the store today It's not—"

“Do not lie to me, Y/N.” You gave him silence. ��How could you act in such a way?”

“If you know the answers, then why do you always ask questions?” The light from the interrogation room’s light kindled your eyes when you looked up at him, but you took unusual comfort in the pain.

“I’m trying to help you to understand your sins, but you never learn.”

“You could have stopped me, you’re my guardian ang—” “Yes and I am not you.” Si Cheng gripped the bridge of his nose before speaking again, “I protect you from unrighteous harm. Your actions have consequences with which I cannot interfere.”

Suddenly feeling very nauseous, you wretched forward, your cuffed hands gliding up your spine. A mix of drunken liquids racing from your throat, onto the floor and your distressed jeans. Si Cheng took your hair up, sitting behind you, rubbing your back when you failed to vomit and fearfully gagged.

He was ready to save you when he heard you starting to choke, but took your vulnerable soul into his arms when he realized you had started sobbing.

This was a normal occurrence for you two.

Every day, you would wake up thinking the thoughtless decision you had made the night prior was just a nightmare, but would fall apart when dealing with the consequences. Si Cheng would be there to comfort you and recite something religious that would travel a non-permeable route through your two ears. When you were back to feeling yourself— or what was left of yourself— you would sin again and lie to your guardian about it. Then Si Cheng would read you a bit of The Bible to sleep every night, for when morning comes, your morning s.hit would be on the sacred book once again.

“My back hurts…” You cried out. Si Cheng kept holding you.

“You tempt me.” Si Cheng announces as he waits for you to finish your nightly routine, Bible in hand. He decided to stop sleeping at his home in Heaven and would instead be wherever you were to take away the matches you light your fire with.

“Well I mean we don’t always have to pray when we’re in the bedroom.” The sleeping shirt takes its sweet time to cover your breasts before his angelic eyes.

“Not sexually.” Si Cheng rolls his eyes and chooses his next words carefully for your innuedic mind. “When you lie to me, I want so badly to tell you off. To make certain that no such fibs should ever fall from your lips again.”

“Sounds frustrating. Are you sure you don’t want to just go have sex?”

“The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful.” Your guardian recited, ignoring your offer.

“The what now?”

“Matthew 13:22. Just because I hear the lies you tell, does not mean I should engorge in them by talking back or forcing you to be something you are not.”

“And what am I not again?”

“Holy.”

“D.amn straight.” Si Cheng huffed in exasperation of his inability to get through to you, opening his Bible once you settled in bed next to him. This was the final part of your nightly routine.

…

Si Cheng ended your nightly prayers. “We send this message to You in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. Amen.”

“I’m an atheist.” You say with your eyes already closed.

“How could you say that when I exist?”

“You’re not real. It’s all in my head because since the day I was born, I was not right. If God were real, he wouldn’t have made me this way.”

“You are not an atheist.” Your eyes open halfway.

“How can you decide what I am and what I am not?”

“You would not be so angry at God if you were an atheist. They are non-believers, not betrayers.”

…

The next morning, you wake up in an empty bed. Finally. There was no sign of Si Cheng along the walk from the bedroom, to the bathroom, to the hallway, down the stairs, or to the kitchen, where you sat down to enviously admire the dying rose bouquet trapped in a blue China vase.

The front door bursts open and in comes Si Cheng with two handfuls of goods you had mostly already bought. He walks to the dining table as soon as he spots you, laying out the groceries in front of you.

Angel Soft toilet paper, Angel food cake mix, a sack of Angelina plums, Victoria’s Secret Angel perfume, and a CD of Chancellor and TaeYeon’s “Angel.”

“What is all of this?”

“To remind you that angels are all around you. And we are sad that you do not wish to accept us.”

“Angels, always looking for human validation huh?” Si Cheng bites back his tongue at your passive comment.

“I also got you this.” Sicheng gingerly places a luxe Bible in your hands, with a grandiose “belonging to Y/N” engraved under “The Bible”, complimenting the gold edges of the dainty pages.

“I don’t want to read it.”

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can tell the quality of it catches your eye and entices you to want to read. Humans, always wanting the most or nothing at all.” Si Cheng savors the way you glare at him sideways for his mirrored comeback to your insult.

“Let us read it in the bedroom before starting our day.” And you don’t know if you are too tired or desperate or want him to shut up with this religious nonsense, but you go up to the bedroom with him anyway.

“It doesn’t make any sense, Si Cheng! Why would God make me just to torment me? After everything I have done to d.amn myself and spite Him, how could he ever take me as one of His own children?”

You sat in the bathtub, soaking in a mixture of the darkest red wine and gasoline, the color staining the tub and your skin with the darkest black, the color making the markings on your back more defined than ever.

For the past hour, you had been threatening to end it all and managed to rope the divine being into the most intense argument. His hands gripped your arms to keep you from going under, but could not even begin to think about pulling you out with the ear piercing screams you let out between comebacks.

Despite his greatest efforts, Si Cheng had to admit that he was never able to help you get back on a good path. “I am going to Hell and you can’t save me. He has failed both me and you”

“He has failed neither me nor you. How dare you speak of the Heavenly Father in such vulgar form.” His anger rose and teeth tried not to bare animalistically behind his lips. In a way, you were right and Si Cheng knew this. He had been the cause of such deathly marks to appear on your back in response to the resentment building up in his heart to have to wake and sleep with your sins.

“Then show me! Take me to God and show me that he is real. Let me hear from Him that He wants me for good and not for sport.” Your body weighted his hands down as the stinging in your back made you lightheaded.

“He has told you. Your entire life, He has told you. He speaks through me and I am one of his most trusted children.” Still desperately trying to pull you up, Si Cheng could not focus on saving you and controlling the pain he was unconsciously inflicting on your flesh.

“You are not God. You are just an angel who has disappointed Him, like me.”

“We are not alike.” Si Cheng’s grasp unravelled from your arms, letting them sink back under the black liquid.

“You are a sinful woman.”

“Where are you going?” You screeched at him, trying to fight your back from folding itself. Tears were now falling without control as you realized you had really done it this time.

“Heaven. See you there.”

The pain suddenly halted. Si Cheng left and another angel entered. Upon seeing your body partially submerged in Christ’s Blood and Devil’s fuel, he lifted you from the tub and rid you from the onyx glaze. He never spoke a word to you for the rest of your life by your side.

And you could only assume that it was because “The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful.” (Matthew 13:22)

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖. 𝟗𝟖 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

“Happy birthday, Number 1028!” A party hat was forced onto Sicheng’s head by Archangel of Love Number 6, poking through his halo like a cloudy mountain.

“Hey! It’s my birthday, too!” Archangel of Birth Number 1028 pouted at being one-upped by his Brother in Christ.

“Yes, but it’s Guardian Angel Number 1028’s birthday.” Number 6 clarifies, using his title to mockingly signify importance.

“Such social hierarchy is hellish! This is Heaven!”

“Right, it is finally the year you are no longer banned from Earth and can be a guardian again!” The angels gather around Si Cheng to "ooh" at his year of redemption.

“It is my loyal duty to serve God with the occupation he gifts me.” He dismisses their awe with words of loyalty to his creator.

“She is ready.” His Heavenly Father calls for His Guardian Angel Number 1028 to meet his valuable assignment.

When he walks into the incubation room, Si Cheng is met with the eery feeling of deja vu. A disheartening sense of nostalgia washes over him as well. Then he sees a design on the fertilized egg in the incubator.

Those marks.

The scarring on the biological sphere are like vents that send the aromas of Giuseppe Quintarelli and Diesel gasoline to his nose.

Si Cheng suddenly could no longer feel the comfort of his halo, fear zapped through him as he could feel evil beings tempting him through all four walls of the incubation room instead. Light burning aches and agonizing pains danced along his back.

His vision went black and his mind regressed to 9 months before this October day, 118 years ago. The Heavenly Father took his body, that was wrapped up in his mother’s egg and his father’s sperm, into His hands and placed him next to yours, both of your fertilized compartments looking like identical twins.

“You have much still to learn, my son.”

*Black Christian = A Christian who betrays God, like Archangel Lucifer betraying Jesus and becoming Satan.

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[forbidding-souda]

jeez, i like this blog. how about writing Soda, Kirigiri, Mukuro, Celeste, Hagakure, Ouma and Kiibo with albino s/o? some cute general hc and some hcs about dealing with their sensetive to sun skin and eyes and weak health at all, and with people who bullying them for their appearance? thanks, have a nice day.

Kazuichi Souda, Kyoko Kirigiri, Mukuro Ikusaba, Celestia Ludenberg, Yasuhiro Hagakure, Kokichi Ouma, and Kiibo with albino S/O

Ya’ll are opening my horizons to different things wait I love this. 

Ever since this request popped into my ask box I’ve been excited to write it sorry it took so long! Kisses xx

-Mod Souda

Kazuichi Souda

He’s basically your designated driver when you need it.

Any questions you have at all about trying to read signs from a distance or if there’s anyone nearby that might make fun of you, he’ll answer you. He’s good at defending you.

Since he’s semi intimidating, if you’re with him, people just think wow look at the alt couple. Some people assume that you don’t naturally look like that, too.

When he first met you, he’d wave to you once you exited school, not realizing you could hardly see him with the sun outside.

You sun burn easily, too, and his first solution to this was to try and get you to wear one of his jumpers.

I mean - yeah but also no.

Once tried to convince you to wear his beanie to but you assured him that that will not protect you from the sun.

Your social scene was never too active because of the way you are. But Souda understand this too, on a less medical sense. 

He always tries to get you to hang around his friends, as well.

He’s always there to remind you that you are not a curse and that he loves you, kissing your skin and holding you close.

Since you were bullied throughout your kid years, when you finally were around his friend group, you were surprised that all of them were nice.

He is a very good person to be with when it comes to things like, of course, being nervous about who you are. 

He’s helpful and will work harder to get money to buy anything you need to help you live more comfortably.

Surprises you with flowers a lot. Not necessarily bouquets but just small flowers lying around your room.

His favorite thing to do is just surprise you with small things hidden around the house. Your favorite drink, small sweats, things that make you happy.

Kyoko Kirigiri

She’s a very intelligent girl, and she holds a lot of power.

“Remember to bring your sunglasses,” she’ll always remind you.

Has extra gloves for you, too.

Requests to change some of the lightbulbs in the classrooms just in case they are the type that hurt you.

She’s also a very good cuddler, too! She’ll run her fingers up and down your arms or play with your hair.

Doesn’t like to go on dates outside, which is fine by you.

Instead of outside dates, she’ll watch your favorite movies with you, or ask you questions to learn more about you.

She’s a curious cat when it comes to what makes you you.

You try to reciprocate the energy, but she doesn’t like to answer all of the questions you give her.

All the questions, all the questions, all the questions! You almost think she’s making a journal about you.

Sometimes she’ll take you out in the night in December, putting Christmas lights around the neighborhood. 

Someone will have to get on the other’s shoulders, often, but that just makes everything so much funner.

Especially when the tiny bit of snow falls from the sky.

Seeing Kyoko in the snow is like watching an angel.

Mukuro Ikusaba

She doesn’t quite understand what albinism means.

But she knows that it’s something serious, and you aren’t like other people.

Anything you tell her she’ll try to remember.

For your birthday, she got you a parasol. It was your favorite color, too! 

Twirling it in your hand while the two of you walk together is everything!

You got her a matching one, too, the both of you can twirl your parasol’s together.

She gets you a lot of random presents, things you don’t even know where she gets it from. Posters of your favorite musicians are you favorites.

When she moves into your house, she adds a lot of decor to your room. Things like plants, adding shelves for her books, and different stuffed animals her sister stole for her when they were homeless.

She’s very much an indoors person, but she is willing to do the shopping and cooking whenever you don’t feel well.

Can carry you, too. She’s surprisingly strong. 

Not that she can carry you, let me correct myself. She will carry you.

Also will fight anyone who disrespects you.

Celestia Ludenberg

She has a collection of parasol’s in her house, and will definitely allow you to dress up in her gothic lolita clothes if you so desired.

She likes touching your skin, too, definitely.

Everything about you is beautiful to her.

Being next to you in public makes her proud that she was able to date someone like you. 

Will help you in any way. 

But she always wants something in return. A kiss, nothing serious. Maybe showering with her if she’s feeling lonely enough.

“You’re invited to the mansion with me when I become rich,” she coos one night, turning to her side to look at you.

To her, the invite was a serious thing. All of her life she dreamed about being alone in the house with all of those boys. But if you’re there with her, then it might be a little better.

She is dreamy when it comes to skincare, and will always massage your face. It’s usually when you come back from being outside, and the sun has bothered your eyes, she will draw her thin fingers across your face to try and ease at least some pain.

But she’s such a drama queen sometimes, wondering why you can’t just go have tea with her sometime. Both of you settled on going when the sun is down, or when the clouds are thick. 

Because tea with her is fun, actually. Makes you tune into your inner lolita subculture.

Yasuhiro Hagakure

He’s a dummy sometimes.

“Hiro, can you grab my sunhat?”

“Sure thing!”

You step outside, asking him where it is.

“I forgot to get it, wait-”

His body is really large, and he can shade you if you get too overwhelmed. Not to mention that he easily drapes his jacket over you, sometimes.

This boy cares a lot!!!!

He listens to your every last word and complaint!! If you are in pain? He’s gonna take you home immediately!

A lot of strangers like to stare at you, sometimes taking pictures without you noticing.

He always calls them out, often yelling in public to defend you.

You defend him, too, sometimes having to bonk people on the head when they gawk at him.

But he’s an outdoorsy fellow when he’s not constantly in fear that the yakuza would kill him.

You don’t get to see him all that often. It’s a little disheartening.

He comes home whenever he can to give you big hugs!

Kokichi Ouma

He’s a little goofer sometimes.

Sometimes you have to go out without him, and it’ll never go well.

You’ll be almost out the door. “Where are my sunglasses?”

“Oh, I don’t know, S/O. Where are they?”

“You little shit.”

He always wants to go with you when you go outside. Just because he likes hanging out with you, also because he thinks your routine is very interesting.

Sneaks up on you all the time. Especially in public. 

It’s your least favorite thing ever when he does it when it’s sunny outside. 

But if someone tries to bother you, though, he will trip them or spit on them or even push them out of the way.

A lot of his DICE members will join in too, terrorizing them even days after. 

Every time he spends the night, he wakes up earlier than you, and always makes you a cup of tea/water/coffee for you when you wake up. 

He definitely gives you hugs from behind, too. Not even to surprise you. He just really likes wrapping his arms around you from that angle.

Draws you little pictures of yourself to leave around the house. It’s weird when he hasn’t came over in a while and yet you still find little post-it notes all over.

Kiibo

He has a very big brain! But he still asks a lot of questions about it.

He makes, almost forces, you to eat a lot of healthy foods so your physical health can improve a bit. It’s very annoying, but you do it for him.

Surprise kisses are what he’s good at! He will wake you up with kisses, give you nightly kisses before he turns off, and give you kisses throughout his day.

And he keeps his eyes on you!! Like all the time!!

Because he worries, and he tries not to let you know, which fails.

“Kiibo, you don’t have to worry.”

“I-I’m not worried! I just... love you a lot.”

You laugh, “you are worried because you love me.”

It makes him blush every time you tell him that. 

He loves you with all of his heart, it’s scary sometimes!

He didn’t think it was possible to love someone so much!

So he likes hearing you say you love him all the time. 

He doesn’t like the sun that much, and his ventures outside are shortlived, so you don’t have to worry about being forced to go out for whatever reason. 

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 9

Y’ALL THOUGHT I WAS JOKING WHEN I SAID “ I JUST WANT TO SEE SIMEON [REDACTED] AND [REDACTED] WHILE [REDACTED] AND [REDACTED] ALL THE WHILE MC AND LUCIFER [REDACTED] UNTIL SIMEON IS [REDACTED] OUT OF HIS MIND” I wasn’t.

I’m so, so, so, sorry that this chapter took so long to come out. (シ_ _)シ There was a lot of self-doubt when it came to writing it so it took a little more time before I realized my original plan was the right way to go. I’ve been really excited to write this, so I hope it translated well. Hope y’all enjoy!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10] 

Pairing: Simeon x Lucifer x Reader, Lucifer x Simeon Genre: REALLY filthy smut Wordcount: 7,400 ish   Tags: Threesome F/M/M, Spitroasting, Pegging, rough sex, overstimulation, chastity devices Summary: Desperate for release, Simeon's willing to give you everything, including his body. It's just a shame he's too prideful to do it alone and once again needs to call in a favor. 

Plunge

Your kisses were hot enough to brand his skin. Lips, breath, scent, all of it cloyingly sweet and heady. He reached out to brush your hair from your face just so he could kiss you without abandon. Simeon whined when you pulled away from him. He reached out to you but you pushed him back onto the soft covers of his bed. “No.” you told him firmly and placed a finger onto his lips. He kissed the digit reverently before you slid your finger away, traces of his saliva leaving a glistening trail down his chin.

Your fingers found his nipples and pinched them, hard. He cried out in pain, but there was no question that the pain only turned into pleasure as you ground against his throbbing member. He called for you, his throat parched and hoarse from screaming in pleasure. You only giggled and watched him writhe under you. “No.” you reiterated. “Be a good boy.”

And what could he do but obey you? Listen to your every command as you made his body sing and reach highs he had never achieved before. His cock throbbed, aching to be buried within you, he would do anything for that moment to have you fall into his embrace and make sweet love to you. You were heaven on earth and he was so, so close to salvation.

Your hot mouth wrapped around the tip of his length while your hands kept his legs spread wide. He could feel every one of your taste buds as your tongue swirled around the tip of his cock. He clutched onto the sheets below him, his knuckles turned white from the sheer force of his grip. Simeon keened, begged and pleaded for mercy, yet he knew he would get none. Not while you were in control. No, he knew you would pull everything out of him before he got his release, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He felt you hum while you sucked him off, drawing him closer and closer to his climax. Just when he couldn’t take it anymore, you pulled away and waited for him to stop heaving for air. You had the grace within you to let him breathe for a moment before the tell tale buzz of a vibrator was turned on and pressed firmly against his aching cock.

“Good boy.” You purred and grinned gleefully as his screams echoed in the room. “Cum nice and hard for me now. If you do, I’ll let you fuck me.” Your words were more than temptation, they were pure sin and he didn’t give a damn if he fell, just as long as he was with you. His reward was within reach, and the pleasure building within him reached a breaking point.

As pure euphoria washed over his body, Simeon awoke, panting covered in sweat and dizzy from his dream. His fingers were sore from clinging onto the sheets and there was a distinctive sticky wetness that came from his leaking cock that strained against the cage you had placed onto him. He sighed, tugging at it, hoping that it would give him some relief but it only made the throbbing worse. Simeon took deep breaths, trying to focus on something, anything, to get his mind off of the erotic dream he had. With how often he awoke like this since that night, it was almost routine for him to take a cold shower to wash away the sinful thoughts that invaded his subconscious. Most days it worked, but with how intense his nightly visions were becoming, even that tried and true remedy wasn’t enough.

After seeing you so wantonly taken by Lucifer not once, but twice now, the dreams had started to come in. At first, he didn’t think too much about them, after all it wasn’t the first time he ever had an erotic dream. But, when it involved you and what he now knew you could do for him, his nightly visions  became extreme. It was all he could think about. Sometimes, the dreams involved Lucifer as well, goading the two of you on he couldn’t hold back anymore and was ready to fuck you out of your mind. However, even in his dreams, he was denied the ability to take what he wanted as his body always jolted him awake the moment he was just about to enter you.

It had been a full week of this torment. Simeon expected to be used to it. The weight of the cage on his cock reminded him of that fateful night and everything you and Lucifer did to him. Never had he ever been so pampered and spoiled, yet left hungry for so much more. It never failed to get his member straining against its confines.

The memory permeated his regular thoughts and crept up on him whenever he least expected it to. He wasn’t even granted the privilege to rub one out when the thoughts became too much anymore. He was cursed to be stuck with the discomfort of not being able to find release. Somehow, after such a blissful night, his life was an eternal hell of constant arousal and frustration. The inability to find any sort of relief only caused him to stress and be more on edge. He was being driven mad with a need and a desire to defile someone he swore he wouldn’t do.

Something needed to be done.

Simeon hated calling in favors, especially when he just finished paying one back. Still, he didn’t know who else to turn to and his fingers once again dialed the number to his old friend.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.” Lucifer’s drawl was as smug as ever when he finally picked up after several rings. “How has your week been?”

Simeon only sighed, he was sure Lucifer knew exactly how his week has been. “I need help.” he deadpanned, unable to deal with Lucifer’s pompous tone more than he absolutely had to.

“So soon? Are you writing a new novel? I must say, I was rather enamored with how you wrote the last few chapters of your book. I could tell exactly what parts you took---”

“I’m not writing a new book.” Simeon cut in, huffing in frustration. “I need help… With… Well…”

“Well?”

“The cage you put on me...” He finished his sentence with a fair bit of shame, hating that he had to admit to Lucifer of all people that he was having problems with being too over aroused all the time. “I… I can’t cum with it on.”

“Oh, don’t you know? That’s the point.” Lucifer’s chuckle incited a fair bit of anger within Simeon, but he managed to keep a level head somehow. “Come on now, surely you didn’t think it was just for show...”

“Lucifer, I haven’t been able to sleep properly for a week.” Simeon hissed. “I need to do something about this before I snap and do something I regret.”

Lucifer hummed, completely seemingly nonplussed about his friend’s reaction. “Hmm, well, that would be a shame wouldn’t it.” Simeon could hear Lucifer shrugging to his phone. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know, take it off? You have a spare key, right?”

“Oh no, the one key that exists belongs to your dear friend. Last time I talked to her, she told me the only way she’s going to take that off of you is if you promise to take her.”

There was a fair amount of silence on Simeon’s end. Lucifer wondered if the call had been disconnected and was almost ready to hang up before he heard his friend speak again. “I can’t do that.”

“But it’s what you want, is it not?”

“It’s not about what I want. You know as well as I do that this isn’t something I can do.”

Lucifer sighed, almost pitying how Simeon was fighting his urges. “Is your divinity really that important to you?”

“I… I cannot take what is not meant to be mine.”

“Then, if you cannot take, what can you give?”

Simeon blinked, confused at Lucifer’s cryptic words. He knew Lucifer had something planned, as always; and he had to tread carefully to avoid his fall. Still, Lucifer offered him a sliver of hope, and he would be lying if he said his curiosity wasn’t piqued. “What are you suggesting, Lucifer?”

“Oh? I thought you’d never ask...”

He was only two steps away from falling. Though Lucifer couldn’t take those steps for him, he could at least offer a little push in the right direction.

~~

You laid your head on counter of the bar, the cool wood gave your burning cheeks a little reprieve. Most of the night had been spend nursing mixed drink after mixed drink. With one final rather stiff order, you finally felt sufficiently drunk to the point where you didn’t worry about Simeon or what he thought about your relationship with him.

You hadn’t seen him in a week. He hadn’t said a damn thing since everything that happened at Lucifer’s penthouse and you were beginning to believe it was all a fever dream. Lucifer had been right about one thing, Simeon wasn’t the kind of person to tell you what he wanted. It was a constant guessing game and you were tired of giving the wrong things to him. No matter what, he remained steadfast in his promise to not fuck you.

You groaned, sipping your drink and looked over at the bartender. “What do I do.” you whined, hoping to get some advice.

“Ah? What’s this? Relationship troubles?” he asked softly while carefully drying a glass. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain your plight.

“How did you know?”

“Well, judging by your demeanor and how often you’ve come in the last week, clearly something is bothering you. When you complain about your job, you ask for beer. This whole week though, you’ve requested mixed drinks, I can only assume that what worries you is a little more ah… personal.”

“Asmo, you are too good at your job.”

He giggled softly, putting the glass in its place and picking up a new one. “Well, I wouldn’t still be working here if I wasn’t good at what I do.”

“This is very true.” You nodded, once again taking another drink. “I don’t know what to do… I really like this guy, but I can’t tell if he’s invested in me the same way I am for with him.”

“Well, now that really is quite worrisome, isn’t it?” Asmo stopped you from answering while he fulfilled an order. He chatted merrily with the customer but he did keep an eye on you to make sure you weren’t too far gone. After all, you had offered him a rather juicy tidbit, he was rather invested now in your story. He wandered back to where you sat at the bar and returned to cleaning glasses now that the patron had their drink. “Sorry about that. Why don’t you tell me more about what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Venting your frustrations out to someone who was basically a stranger was oddly cathartic. You started from the beginning, keeping some details vague just to protect Simeon’s public reputation. Even if your story was for Asmo, you never knew who could be eavesdropping. Your tale was interrupted a few times by customers, but luckily it was getting late and most of them were just getting one last drink in before heading home for the night. The interruptions became less frequent and you were able to eventually finish your story along with your drink.

“So yeah… I came up with the idea of putting him in a chastity belt, and now he hasn’t talked to me for like a week and a half.” You pouted and slouched over the bar. “Do you think I went too far?”

Asmo hummed, wiping down his workspace and mulled over your story. It was just as juicy as he thought it would be. Some of the details you mentioned had him getting rather excited, and he was glad for the tall counter hiding his growing arousal. “Well, all things considered, I think you’ve given him as many hints as possible. If he can’t tell what you want at this point, then that’s on him.”

“But how can I tell if that’s what he wants? He won’t tell me anything.”

“Ah, you see, you’re giving him yet another chance.” Asmo chided. He took your empty glass from you and slid over a new drink. “On the house.” He declared with a bit of a wink. “You’ve given me a good story to listen to, it’s only fair that I compensate you properly for it.”

“Thank you...” You looked at the concoction and took a sip. A myriad of flavors and sensations flooded your tongue and you took a moment to savor his creation. The warm burn of alcohol rested at your chest and you mulled over the bartender’s cryptic words. “So, are you saying I should stop giving him chances? What should I do?”

“I’m saying maybe, you should take a chance this time around instead.” He smiled sweetly at you and continued to calmly clean his space.

“Huh…” you mused. His words still confused you, but they did get your mind thinking about how else to perhaps coax him to tell you what he truly wanted.

As if on cue, your phone lit up and a message appeared. You had to rub your eyes and make sure you weren’t dreaming; the alcohol running through your system sure made things seem rather surreal from time to time. When you were sure that the message hadn’t disappeared, you picked your phone up to read what the contents were.

[SMS: cAN YOU cOME OVER NEXT wEEK??? i NEED TO tALK TO YOU??? ]

Seeing Simeon had taken the initiative to finally text you sent an exciting thrill through you. You had seriously thought about drunkenly texting him and demanding answers, but this was much better than your poorly thought out plan. His inability to text was still as bad as ever and you giggled at how silly the serious message seemed with the mismatched capitalization.

“Hm? Now that’s a lovely sound I didn’t expect to hear. Did something good happen?” Asmo leaned over the counter when he noticed the change in your demeanor. It was as if the heavens had heard your thoughts and prayers, hoping he would contact you first. After having poured your heart out to the bartender, there was no way you weren’t going to listen to his advice.

This was your chance and you were going to take it.

“Yeah. He wants to meet up next week. I guess it’s time to take your advice to heart, huh.”

“Indeed. I hope it works out for you.”

“Oh, I have a feeling it will.”

~~

It didn’t feel like the week could go by fast enough. You finally had a reason to visit Simeon again. It was odd how quickly you missed him when you didn’t have a purpose to go to his place. Before, you could excuse your weekly visits as work. Now that his book was complete, you couldn’t find an excuse to see him unless he invited you over. To say you were excited to see his text was an understatement. You had hastily written a reply in your drunken state. The typos made you cringe when you looked at it the next day, but your meeting with him was still confirmed.

Your mind was mostly preoccupied with your visit. The work of your new clients piled up as you spent hours on end staring into space and imagining what you could do to him next. You had pushed him so far the last time you were with Lucifer, you had been sure he would be ready to break and just ask to take you, but that moment never happened.

You might have replayed the events of that night over and over again, trying to figure out where you went wrong. Eventually, you just became frustrated about things you couldn’t change and focused on anything but your upcoming meeting with Simeon. Work was a great distraction and you found you were able to at least throw yourself into that until your appointed day came.

There was no reason to be nervous. You had been to his home multiple times, and with the things that had happened within those walls, you should have been completely shameless. You had an idea of what to propose to Simeon, should he be willing. It was a risk, but one that you were willing to take. It had taken a while for you to come to terms with the fact that there would come a time where you needed to just do things yourself if they were at a standstill.

Regardless of what convictions you had, your resolve wavered when you saw Lucifer open the door. For a moment a bit of anger flared within you. You despised how you were relying so much on this mysterious man to push your relationship with Simeon forward. Though you were grateful for everything he had done for the book as well as the amazing night he orchestrated as a celebration, you couldn’t help but feel a little bitter when you saw him greet you yet again. Simeon hadn’t mentioned Lucifer being present in his text to you and seeing the man threw your confidence off kilter, to say the least.

“Why the long face? Am I poorly dressed?” He raised an amused brow at your involuntary pout.

“I uh… I just didn’t expect you here is all.” You shrugged, trying to brush off the bitterness you felt and walked passed him to get inside. “I wasn’t aware that Simeon invited you as well.”

Lucifer chuckled, already entertained by the energy in the room already. “Well, he asked me for a favor, and it’s very hard for me to resist helping him.”

“Great. That’s lovely.” You deadpanned, taking off your shoes and walking into the common room. You blinked in confusion when you didn’t see Simeon sitting at his usual spot on the couch. “Simeon?” you called out, wondering where he could have gone.

“He’s not over there.” Lucifer leaned against a wall, waiting for you to get your bearings before he finally guided you in the right direction. “Come, follow me.”

He lead you up the stairs and down a hallway to a room you had never been allowed to be in before. Lucifer opened the door and ushered you into the dimly lit room. You let your eyes adjust to the darkness before a rustling noise on the bed in the corner of the room caught your attention. You could hardly believe your eyes at the vision before you.

“He’s lovely no matter what he wears, isn’t he?” Lucifer whispered into your ear, coming into the room behind you and quietly closing the door.

“Y...yeah...”

Simeon squirmed. He disliked having so much attention aimed his way, especially if that attention was while he was dressed so scantily. Lucifer had once again outdone himself in setting up the scene. The sheer lacy lingerie clung to him like a second skin. The thigh high stockings held up by an elaborate garter belt only accentuated his assets. The sheer chiffon thong he wore hid nothing from your sight and you had a front row seat to his cock straining against the cage you put on him weeks ago. When he shifted, you noticed a glittering plug fit snugly into his ass. He was breathtaking in his get up and you could feel your cheeks burning from witnessing such a beautifully debauched scene.

“You see, he’s been excited to show you this little getup this all week long. But he still needed a little help getting the last few details right.” Lucifer explained before he sauntered across the room and put the final touches onto the ensemble.

Simeon shifted to get on his knees if only to make it easier for Lucifer to place the bejeweled leather collar on his neck. The glittering lead dangled in front of him tantalizingly once the collar was securely on. He looked over at you expectantly, his eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.  “Do… do you like it?”

You nodded dumbly, stepping forward when Lucifer wordlessly coaxed you forward and offered the lead to the collar. It was surprisingly heavy, looking down, you noticed that it sparkled in the dim light due to all the crystals embedded in it. Your eyes followed the lead until you locked gazes with Simeon. He had the most beautiful pout on his face, his eyes wide and his lower lip stuck out, begging for you to kiss it.

You gave the lead an experimental little tug. As soon as he felt it, Simeon obediently got up and trotted over to where you stood. The immense amount of control you had over him was absolutely mind blowing. “I’ve been wanting… to do something like this for a while now.” he admitted bashfully and turned his face to the side unable to keep eye contact any longer.

Taking his chin gently in your free hand, you shifted his gaze back to you. Hearing he wanted something like this to happen only made you more excited. Hopefully it meant that he was willing to open up a little more. It almost made up for the anger you felt at Lucifer’s presence. Though it was upsetting that you couldn’t coax his desires out of him on your own, you were glad he had reached this point at least. “Tell me what else you want out of this.” You commanded, your thumb gently brushed against his cheek as if it could draw the answer out of his lips.

“I want...” He paused, lowering his gaze but your grip on his chin remained firm and he was looking at you once more with a little jerk of your hand. “I want…” Simeon couldn’t seem to finish his sentence and he stuttered once again.

“I can’t give you what you want if you won’t tell me.” You chided softly, tightening your grip on the lead and pulling him down until he was on his knees. Your hand on his chin moved to his hair, gently petting his soft locks before grabbing a fistful and making him wince a bit. “You’ll be a good boy and tell me, right?” You gave the lead a forceful tug, causing his neck to strain and he let out a stuttering breath.

“Y-yes… I’ll be good.”

Your grip loosened enough to give him some reprieve. “And what is it that my precious angel wants?”

“I want you to… I want… Iwantyoutofuckmeplease.” His request came out in a rushed, run-on whisper. Once you pieced together what he said, your cheeks warmed at his candidness. You cleared your throat, trying to reassert the dominance you had acquired. From the corner of your eye, you could see Lucifer had made himself at home on Simeon’s bed. He lounged against the headboard, ready to step in if you needed him. For the time being, he was happy to take a back seat to the depravity Simeon was about to subject himself to.

“Is that what you want...” You mused, pretending to be calm, though your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. Truth be told, you had considered doing something like this after Asmo’s advice, but you never thought Simeon would offer such a thing to you. Well, might as well take what’s given…

You gently pat his head and you swore he let out a quiet coo of content at the affection, though you couldn’t be sure. Lucifer watching everything was distracting you from Simeon’s request. Admitting that you would have never gotten to this point without Lucifer’s help frustrated you and it took away from the potential closeness of the moment if it had only been you and Simeon.

As if he could sense your unease, Simeon spoke up. “I asked him to be here… I trust him as much as I trust you.” He leaned his head into your hand, encouraging you to keep petting him. “Please, use him as you wish.”

You turned to Lucifer and raised a brow, surprised that the CEO of Akuzon would ever agree to be submissive to anyone. The man on the bed only shrugged in reply. “He asked for a favor, how could I say no. Have you seen the way he pouts? But it is as he says, I am at your command tonight.”

The shift in power had your head spinning. Both the men in the room were at your beck and call for the night. The final goal being fucking Simeon until he couldn’t see straight. You pulled Simeon back on his feet and ran your hand down his abdomen to tease the cage that kept his cock bound. He whimpered, bit his lower lip and heaved a heavy sigh. He hoped you would be merciful if he pouted and showed you how needy he was; but it looked like you had no intentions of releasing his cock from its confines anytime soon. Then again, he didn’t think he deserve that sort of sympathy from you, not after what he put you through.

“Well, I suppose I should get to work then, shouldn’t I?” you purred. Having so much authority made you feel drunk and made your mind race all the ways you could take the beautiful man before you. You pulled him back up to his feet and pulled him into a quick kiss, careful to only give him a hint of the passion and love you had for him. “I think I have too many clothes on for what you want, so why don’t you be a good little angel and help me out of them?”

Simeon was more than eager to comply. His fingers quickly flying to your blouse and worked the buttons off. His eyes burned with the same concentration he had whenever he was in the middle of writing an intense scene. He moved like a man on a mission and you were left in nothing but your undergarments quite quickly. “Good boy.” You praised, giving him another brief kiss and lead him back to the bed. “Now, are you sure about this? I don’t want to hurt you if it’s not what you want.”

He nodded vigorously. “I want this… more than anything. I want to give you everything that I have… please take me.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission and your dominance faltered for a moment. “Well, if that’s what you want, how could I ever deny you.” you purred once you had a moment to regain your composure. You looked over at Lucifer who was very clearly in on Simeon’s plan. “Something tells me that know what to do next.”

“I thought you’d never call on me.” He got up from his place on the bed and walked over to a drawer. Once he retrieved what he needed, he beckoned you over and you complied after putting the lead to Simeon’s collar down.

From there, Lucifer helped you get fitted with the harness and made sure everything was on securely for you. He worked methodically, fully invested in making sure you were outfitted properly. When he was done, you needed a moment to get accustomed to the rather sizable strap-on you now sported. The heavy weight of the phallic object felt foreign to you and you half wondered how either of the men in the room dealt with something like this on a daily basis.

The straps of the harness hugged your thighs and your hips, keeping everything in its place so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything slipping when you properly got things going. Idly, you reached down and stroked the silicone dildo hanging between your legs which elicited an amused chuckle from Lucifer. “Who knew my cock would look just as good on you as it does in you.”

You sputtered; honestly, you didn’t know why you were even surprised. Of course he would have done something like this. Looking over to Simeon, you stalled for another moment, still hesitant on whether or not this was something he wanted. But, when he called for you with a needy little whine, you were reassured that this was exactly what he wanted.

“You. Strip. In case I need you later.” You commanded to Lucifer before walking towards Simeon who was waiting so patiently for you.

Giving something for Lucifer to do meant you could focus solely on Simeon. “Come on, hands and knees now, love.” you urged, tugging on the tether to bring Simeon into the proper position. As if he could read your mind, Lucifer tossed you the bottle of lube and you fumbled to catch it.

Now that what he fantasized about was actually happening Simeon was more than eager to show you just how needy he was. His ass swayed gently from side to side as you floundered around with the bottle. It was the first time in weeks he had been touched by another person and everything you teased him with only added to his arousal. Precum oozed out of the tip of the cage, dribbling onto the sheets below. You hoped by the end of the night there would be a veritable puddle of his essence on the bed.

The thong he wore really wasn’t holding anything up. It was a pretty, lacy thing, but utterly useless in practicality. It was easy to just undo the ties that held it up at his sides and toss the thing across the room. Now that you had better access to him, you assessed the glittering plug in his ass. “Did someone spend all week getting ready for this?” you crooned softly, tugging at it gently and drawing out a loud whine from as his tight hole was stimulated.

“Y-yes… I want… I want….” He whimpered, falling to his elbows. He had dreamed about this moment for days on end, now that he was experiencing it, his mind was reeling from all the sensations.

“So greedy.” you chided, tugging at the plug harder and watched as his hole spread and stretch to make room for the toy you were slowly extracting from him.

Lucifer returned to the other side of the bed, fully nude and half hard. He laid back, not even a little bit shameful about how much he was enjoying the scene before him. His friend was so close to falling and accepting his fate, yet he was struggling with every fiber of being. It truly was endearing just how hard Simeon was trying to cling to his divinity all the while being so obscene. The human realm’s temptations were truly marvelous.

The plug released from his ass in a satisfying ‘pop’ and Simeon sighed in content, knowing what was to come soon. You marveled at the impressive girth of the plug before also tossing it to the side. It had served its use as preparation for the main event of the night.

You poured a generous amount of lube down his ass crack, ensuring that he was well covered with the slick substance before you entered him. Just as an extra precaution, you gingerly fingered his hole, slipping you fingers into him to test just how ready he was. He let out a long whine that turned into a moan as your fingers explored him. “Please… don’t tease me...”

“Aww, she’s just making sure you don’t get hurt.” Lucifer reassured, stroking his friend’s hair. He had taken a hold of the leash, keeping Simeon’s head up so he could see every change of his friend’s expression all the while you drove him mad with just your fingers.

“I won’t, I’ve prepared all week for--- ahhhh” His indignant quip was quickly silenced as you pressed the well lubed head of the dildo into him. No amount of preparation could have made him ready for the feeling of being stretched and filled by something so large.

You took it slow, still unsure of whether or not you were hurting him. While it was mesmerizing to see the dildo slowly disappear inch by inch into Simeon, you still worried that it could be too much. You could see Simeon clawing at the sheets below him as he accepted every inch of the phallic toy inside of him. It was so much more than a plug. It filled him in a way he never thought was possible and he nearly forgot to breathe if it weren’t for Lucifer quietly reminding him to relax and take a breath from time to time.

It took a small eternity, but you eventually fit the whole toy inside of him. When you finally bottomed out, he heaved an earth shattering sigh and his shoulders visibly slouched for a moment before Lucifer once again brought his head upright. “Good boy.” You praised, patting his ass cheek lovingly before placing your hands firmly on his hips to keep him in place. He visibly shivered as your hips flexed and gave him an experimental thrust. “You took that so well.”

Simeon only whimpered underneath you, pressing his ass back towards you, urging you to continue. You smirked, unable to get over just how much power you had over him. To know you were drawing these sorts of sounds and reactions from him only added to the high you were experiencing and  served to fuel your building arousal. As soon as you started a steady pace, you were quickly entranced at how readily his body was accepting the toy.

It felt amazing to dedicate his body to you. To give everything he had to the pleasure you could draw out of him. The moment you settled on a rhythmic thrusting pattern, he saw you as he knew you owned him as his master, his lover and his god all at once. There was no greater bliss than feeling the toy slide in and out of him, undoing him in spades as it rubbed against his prostate and made him sing.

Simeon keened and wailed, meeting every one of your thrusts by pushing his ass back against the toy. The cum dripping out from the tip of the cage soon flowed freely. He was sure he would have cum by now, but due to the restraints, he didn’t know where his release began or ended. You became bolder with your strokes, fucking him harder with longer, deeper thrusts, making his moans fill the room and bounced off the walls.

“Oh my… so loud...” You mused before slamming your hips into him and making him properly scream. “Lucifer, be a dear and help me gag him, please. It would be a shame if the neighbors heard how dreadfully lewd he’s being.”

Lucifer sat up straight, a smirk spread on his face when he was at last being used for the explicit purpose to further Simeon’s pleasure. He got to his knees and used the lead to bring Simeon’s face to the same level as his cock. “With pleasure.” He said, stroking Simeon’s hair. “Come now, you know what to do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

Simeon was beyond feeling shame. The lust coursing through his veins overran any sense of embarrassment he might have felt. His mouth eagerly opened to accept Lucifer’s cock, lapping at the tip before wrapping his lips around it.

Lucifer groaned, his long lashes fluttering from finally getting a little bit of stimulation. The slack on the lead disappeared as he pulled on the collar harshly. The rough motion allowed his cock to slip all the way to the back of Simeon’s throat, effectively gagging him as you had requested. Hearing his newly muffled moans sounded like music to your ears.

Sensing that he was struggling to take so much all at once, you stopped what you were doing for Lucifer to get comfortable fucking Simeon’s mouth. Once you noticed his body relax and no longer tremble from being so overwhelmed, you went right back to fucking him until he was too exhausted to take anymore.

You got your wish. By the time he couldn’t take anymore, there was a sizable pool of his cum on the sheets and yet his cock still leaked his essence. It looked painful straining against the cage, yet you looked at your handiwork with a sense of pride. Despite all the ecstasy he had felt, he still wasn’t allowed a true climax. Until he said he wanted to put his dick in your cunt, you wouldn’t give him the privilege of release. Glancing over at his face, you saw a mixture of Lucifer’s cum and drool dribbling down Simeon’s chin. The sloppy mess on his face glistened in the dim light of the room. You couldn’t deny, even in this defiled and debauched state, he was beautiful.

You were careful when you finally pulled the strap-on out of his ass, making sure to take your time and memorized every muffled whimper and moan that came from his occupied lips. Lucifer only extracted his cock from Simeon’s mouth when you gave him the permission to do so with a curt nod. He lovingly stroked his friend’s hair, smiling softly. He knew just how close Simeon was to falling, he could feel it. It would only take one last gentle push in the right direction.

Simeon gasped for air, remembering to roll over and avoid the mess he made. He sprawled on the sheets, staring at the ceiling and reeling in the sensations he just experienced. His whole body was sore, it felt like he had gone through a multitudes of highs with no end. He never reached the intense peak of a true climax, but with how much cum was on the sheets, he at least felt some sort of release from what you and Lucifer did. His asshole, though thoroughly abused by the extended fuck session still craved for more.  

Even though he had given it all to you, it still didn’t feel like it was enough to satiate his needs.

He had thought he would be free from his desires once he gave everything he had to you; but there was still a hollow ache of hunger that wasn’t satisfied.

“You did so well. That was amazing.” you purred, crawling over to where Simeon laid and kissing him deeply. Your tongue swiped across his swollen lips tasting him and traces of Lucifer before delving into the caverns of his mouth to get more. Your hand felt around for the lead to his collar and tugged slightly on it once you found it. His reacted immediately, intensifying the kiss and tilting his head to give you a better angle. Exhausted as he was, he was still willing to give you what you wanted. “What an obedient angel I have...” You breathed once the kiss was finally broken. “My precious angel behaves so well.”

He stood at the point of no return. He was so close to crossing the line and all he needed was a little push.

“Ah, an angel he might be, you’re still unsatisfied, aren’t you?” Lucifer commented, his voice syrupy sweet as he slipped behind you and took both of your breasts in his hands. You gasped in surprise, having nearly forgotten he was even there while you focused on taking care of Simeon. While you were still gathering your composure, Lucifer swiftly undid the straps to the harness. In no time at all, it fell to the bed with a dull ‘thud’ before he unceremoniously shoved his fingers into your sopping wet heat.

Simeon’s eyes widened, barely believing what he was seeing. He had been so enraptured by his own pleasure he had forgotten about your own. The shame of not pleasing you washed over him and whatever bliss he felt was dashed away as he watched you writhe under Lucifer’s grasp. With how drained his body was, he didn’t have the strength to do anything but hopelessly watch as once again Lucifer was the one who could draw out true pleasure from you.

He regretted asking for help. He regretted trusting Lucifer. He regretted everything as he was forced to watch you moan and whimper for someone that wasn’t him. Even if you owned him and everything that he was, that didn’t mean he had a place in your heart.

Hot tears pricked his eyes as he was witnessed Lucifer’s cock disappear over and over again into your pussy. Your pleasured moans would be branded into his memory. The bliss that was plastered all over your face was something he could never draw out of you. He could feel what trust he had in Lucifer crack and break with every thrust you eagerly accepted. The way you clung desperately to Lucifer as he railed you and the way your moans sounded was so much more raw than anything he could ever elicit from you. As he watched you cry out for a man not him, he felt a burning ember of rage grow within him. He would never be enough, no matter how much he gave.

His cock was prisoner to your whims and your rules. The one tenet he refused to break was what barred him from reaching paradise. The divine celestials seemed droll compared to the temptations you provided him every time he fell into bed with you.

No, no. Stop. She’s mine. She’s MINE. Stop. Please stop.

The hold you had on his lead fell when you came around Lucifer’s cock. He never ceased to bring you to a violent orgasm with how he played your body like an instrument. You couldn’t stay angry with him when he so easily turned you into a moaning mess with little to no effort. For as much as you craved Simeon, he offered an allure that was irresistible. Like a devil seducing you away from your goal, he shook your conviction and made you doubt if Simeon could ever be this good.

“Oh, fuck… Lucifer.” you groaned, shuddering as your body was overtaken by your orgasm. You lifelessly fell forward, your whole body limp and used after such a good fuck. Lucifer wasn’t too far behind and with a few more frantic thrusts, emptied himself within you. The envy Simeon felt when he saw cum that wasn’t his own flood your pussy was absolutely indescribable. How unfair was it for you to own every bit of him, yet he could not stake his claim on you.

The rage within him boiled under his skin and he weakly reached out for you to cradle your listless body while you rode out your high. He glared at Lucifer who only smirked in return. Simeon protectively curled himself around you, holding you close. You let out a whine of protest when you felt your leg brush against the puddle of cold cum on the sheets, but quickly settled into his embrace. He wouldn’t let the devil take you away, no matter how much he tempted you. No, he would do everything to guard you from that sin. Feeling you nest comfortably in his arms, he felt the anger within him subside, if only for a little bit.

Lucifer knew how to read the room and took the hint that he wasn’t wanted, nor needed anymore. As far as he was concerned, his goal had been accomplished. He looked forward to the result of his goading in the upcoming days. All he had to do now was make a graceful exit. Luckily, being the busy man that he was, it was easy to pretend that he received an urgent text from his assistant as an excuse to leave the two of you alone. “It’s been a pleasure, as always.” he said before taking his leave.

You waited until you heard the front door close before you let your body fully relax into Simeon’s arms. “So, was that what you wanted?”

“Yes, all that and more.” he lied softly, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck before the two of you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He was a step away from the edge and a this point, he was more than ready to take the fall.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

One Last Effort  | Tom Holland x Male!Reader

Warning: Smut

Request:  Can you do a smutty bottom Tom x top male reader where they're both closeted actors and costars in some big movie and the tension between them gradually rises until the last day of filming when it comes to a head and they just let it all out in one of their dressing rooms

A final push clicks the mechanism of your suitcase shut. The end of an era. It has something emotional about it. But you weren’t going to admit to it. You pop yourself beside the suitcase on the mattress. Eyeing the trailer, you spend the last months in, recollecting all the treasured memories you made here. Not only this trailer. But also around it. The studios. The stage. Your co-stars all had one, lined alongside the studio. A journey that started far and foreign. Alone and lonely. New co-stars and colleagues. Adjusting your way of living, getting into the flow of filming. Long tiresome days, but with rewarding results. And most important, feeling valued for what you do — being acknowledged at what your best at doing.

Within no time, co-stars started becoming friends. The crew was becoming more than colleagues, making the long days bearable. Dining with the crew, instead of alone in the trailer, going out with co-stars, instead of hanging in your trailer at night. The whole experience was turning out to be a life-defining experience. But all that joy and fun came and abrupt ending.

Months seem long. A year even more so. But once the daily routine, and the things you do become enjoyable. Time has no grasp on you anymore. The most memorable birthday to date was celebrated largely at the studios. Emotional moments were filmed with real pain and feeling. And so was the last day at the studio. In hang in the air for weeks. The tension was tangible between everyone. Sharing the last moments on the screen together. It kept you awake at night. The thought that this was the final moment together. There was no part for any of you in the post production. And if there was, it was voice acting. Something that could be done at home.

Then there was that one person. Tom Holland. You had known him. Years before you got the news, you looked up to him. Admired him. And more.

 Thank the Gods for that first meeting. That moment you met him was magical. From day one, you hit it off. In a good way. You were sure that from day one, some sort of spark hit you. You could feel it. Almost sense it. There was more to it. But who was going to take a shot at it? Risk it all?

 In the months to come, you had shared vast amounts of time with each other. Met his family, friends, and shared memorable moments. Becoming far more than just co-stars, making that last day on set extremely difficult. Hugged, laughed and finally shed a small tear. It was inevitable. Each was going their own way.

Now you were alone. Waiting for the taxi to arrive. Your conscience bothering you. Eating at you, the fact you didn’t tell him how you felt. You let him go. For a moment, you trapped in your own thoughts.

“(Y/N)?” The trailer door creaks open. “H-Hey!”

Snapping from your somewhat daydream you look up at Tom coming through the door. “Get that look from your face. C’mon!” Reaching out to you open arms.

“Oh shut it, Tom.” Waving away his open arms. “I clearly remember seeing you cry as well. Don’t you hate these days?”

“More than you, trust me.” Showing a thin smile. “But I believe-...” Looking about the room. “-you still have my hoodie.”

“I don’t, Tom.” You chuckle lightly. Thinking back to that one night.

“It has to be!” Opening random drawers and closet doors around the trailer. Before locking his gaze onto your suitcase. “You’re were going to take it home, weren’t you?” Pacing towards your suitcase.

You turn your body towards him and pull his arm away. “Don’t you look in there, Tom.”

“What? Why not? Whatcha hidin’ there?” His smile turning in a devilish grin. “You got some of my underwear as well?”

“To be fair, I haven’t had the chance-” You grin, rising to your feet. “-to ask for it.”

“You know… You didn’t ask for my hoodie…” Closing the distance between you. His breath brushing past your skin. His one hand holding onto your shoulder, as he leans into your ear and whispers. “So maybe you should… take it…while you can.” You feel the goosebumps shoot across your skin.

The distance between the two of you was dangerously close — the tension thickening. You catch the sparks glitter in his eyes as he moves back. Your bodies yearning for one and the other. But hesitation holding you both back. Not sure who’s going to take the first step.

“How about you?” You let your fingers brush past his hips, sliding one finger along his belt, pulling him in like an anchor. Your lips were hovering past each other, nearly touching. “Do you want anything… in particular?”  

“Well…” He says while his eyes look about your figure. Before meeting your gaze again. “I’m looking for something-… He pauses as his strong arms reach around you. Pulling you tenderly against him. “-memorable.” Feeling his muscular body pressed against yours. “Got an idea?” He says with a cocky edge.

“I can help you with that…” You wrap your arms around his neck. “But it involves your underwear.”

“Good...” He grins. “Cause it’s starting to get a bit tight down there…”

His lips part before engulfing yours in a long passionate kiss. Your bodies finally finding each other. Moaning deeply into the kiss. Tom becoming fiercer the moment your fingers run along the waistband of his pants. Tom flips your suitcase across the floor so violently. Clothes fly all through the room. Pushing you to mattress, undoing each other of clothes with substantial ferocity. All the pent up energy from past weeks released within seconds. You had teased and played with each other for long enough. Locked in the embrace of love and desire. You both wrestle naked on the mattress, worshipping each other’s body with unrelentless desire, rolling back and forth as you both desperately crave more. Kissing every inch of each other’s skin, sucking and caressing as much as each can. Tom eventually succumbs to his nerves. Lying flat on his back, breathing heavily, his fingers intertwined into your locks of hair as you caress his abs with your lips. Soft moans circle the trailer. You halt and gaze upwards, feeling your hips being clasped by his legs. He cups your cheeks and brings your lips to his. Kissing you violently. Before suddenly pulling you away from his lips. Demanding your attention. “I want you to do me…” He says. “Fuck me (Y/N)” He groans. Right here, right fucking now.” Grinding his pelvis against you.

Before he’s able to utter another word, you have placed your tip at his entrance and push lightly against his hole. Before continuing, you circle a wet finger around his hole. Tom moans out loudly. The anticipation driving Tom mad. Startled by his reaction, you gaze at his lust, overflowing face. Craving you more than anything else. His cock in front of you, standing up in full glory. You’re mesmerized by his meaty shaft and all its veins. All converging to a big throbbing head a top. The reason for your nightly wet dreams. It’s wonderful. You feel your throat falling dry. Feeling yourself harden by the second. “Ram it into me (Y/N)!” He snarls, pulling you back into reality.

You hesitate for a moment. Slowly pushing into him. As soon as you feel the tightness wrap around you. A long a powerful thrust from your pelvis pushes you all the way into him. The warmth and wetness gliding far and deep. Tom’s back arches upward, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. An intense moan sounds through the trailer. “Yes, babe!” He cries out. “Just like that...”

You grab both his shoulders firmly, and start rolling your hips, holding his figure back against your thrust. And begin to slide in and out with increasing speed. The sound of naked flesh slapping against each other was soon overshadowed by cries of pleasure from Tom. His muscled body now under complete control of your shaft, you snatch the pillow beside you and shove it under his hips. Arching his ass more towards you. You reposition along and continue ramming into him. The effect immediately noticeable, feeling yourself gliding much deeper. Not only for yourself.

Tom’s eyes widen, gasping loudly as he arches upward. But you have his body tight into a grasp. Pushing him down again. His lips quiver as he tries to utter a word. His arms fall beside him like a ragdoll. Rendered motionless. Only air escapes his mouth. And the deeper you ram into him, the tighter it feels. Squeezing your member more and more. You feel the edge coming closer. 

Tom’s body shudders under your hands, the sweat making it difficult to hold onto him. His head rolls back, eyes close, and suddenly a long white string lands onto his face. Another lands along his jawline and more on his neck. It never seems to stop. You clench onto his figure and feel a sudden jolt of pleasure shoot down into your hips. And groan uncontrollably as it passes outwards through your member. You shudder and shake as you watch Tom unload himself. Tom eyes instantly lock into your gaze, feeling what’s happening. Before the final spurts sprinkle on his chest. The shaking and shuddering stops and the two bodies collide into a panting mess of flesh and wetness.

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

“Finally got one...” You smile, spinning Tom’s underwear on your finger. A chuckle followed by a tender brush of his fingers along your jaw, he turns your face towards him. Rolling you onto your side, his lips finding yours.

“Well, I’ve got plenty more...” Tom whispers after releasing your lips. His fingers ghosting along your figure.

“Underwear?”

“Oh, you name it, love. Just as long as every piece counts towards this...” His fingers run along your pelvis, Tom grins. “We’re going to be busy for a while.”

“You include socks as well?”

“Fuck yeah…” He grins, pushing you down onto the sheet, throwing one leg over, taking place on top of you. Both his hands cupping the sides of your face, kissing you long and intense. “And they’re going a piece. Not per pair.” He mumbles into the kiss.

[bluesravens]

star girl

summary: it’s late and murphy isn’t sleeping. neither is she. warm fires, new friendships, and fairytales fill the night.

pairing: john murphy x reader

genre: angsty shit with some fluff

warnings: cursing, murphy being an ass

inspired by: the moon song by beabadoobee ft pig

author’s note: my first time writing on here so i hope y’all like it !! i’ll be setting up a request page with prompts soon, but feel free to request anytime!

———————————————————————

A sudden gust of wind blew a piece of hot ember from the camp’s fire pit to the soft grass beneath Murphy’s feet. He sat on a splintered log, staring into the flames that sat in front of him, not noticing that Y/N, another one of the 1OO kids sent to the ground, was lying in the dirt on the opposite side of the fire.

Y/N had noticed a while ago that Murphy had slumped onto the log across from her, but decided not to say anything in hopes not to disrupt him or to disrupt her nightly routine of stargazing. Her hair was scattered over the log she was resting her head on and her eyes were lazily gazing at the constellations above. It was calmly quiet out. The sounds of Earth filled the silence around her and Murphy as the rest of the camp slept on the soft grounds of their new home. She glanced at Murphy who was staring into the fire with a hint of sadness and exhaustion in his eyes.

Y/N inhaled a deep breath and relished the burn of the smoke in her throat. She had never felt so alive, but also never as scared as she did right now. A new planet. A new life. A new beginning.

Apparently Y/N’s loud sigh had alerted Murphy of her presence. The boy jumped up from the log and fumbled for some sort of weapon in his pocket. He whipped out a rusted screwdriver and pointed it in her direction with a near steady hand. She sat up and put her hands up in surrender.

“Hey! Hey! It’s me!,” She exclaimed. “It’s me. Y/N.”

Murphy sighed with relief and annoyance and loosened his grip on his weapon. “How long have you been sitting there? Who the hell just sneaks up on people like that?”

Y/N put her hands down and looked at him apologetically. She hadn’t meant to scare him, she just wanted to be alone for a bit and it wasn’t like he was disturbing her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I was just looking at the stars.”

A content look replaced the worried expression on her face as her eyes returned to the sky. Murphy sat back down and scoffed dramatically to prove his irritation with her. She looked back to him and furrowed her brow. He had a far away look in his eye while he stuffed the screwdriver back in his tattered jacket’s pocket.

“Are you alright?,” Y/N asked. “You’re up awfully late.”

Before she could say anything else, Murphy cleared his throat and the sad look in his eyes dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. He didn’t need her asking personal questions like that “Why are you up so late? Don’t you need to rest up before another long day of kissing Clarke’s ass?”

Y/N didn’t know why it had affected her, but she felt a pant of hurt in her chest. The insult had come so suddenly she was in shock. She was really sick of Murphy’s friends being awful to Wells and Clarke. She agreed with Clarke’s ideas and suddenly she was a target. Maybe Y/N had thought that since it was just Murphy and her he would be a little more kind. Her eyes betrayed her and she new that she looked hurt.

Murphy’s expression softened and he looked as if he was almost going to apologize for being so unnecessarily cruel to her, but this time it was Y/N’s turn to cut him off.

“Don’t you have to get ready for a long day of being Bellamy’s bitch?,” She shot back. His eyes narrowed and she slapped her hand over her mouth. That was not like her at all and she regretted it immediately.

“I’m not anyone’s bitch.,” he spat back. Venom dripped from his words and he got up to leave in a huff. Any chance of him apologizing was gone.

“Murphy! Murphy wait! I’m sorry.,” She said as she jumped up. “Wait! Don’t go!”

Murphy grabbed his small bag and began to walk back to whatever tent he was calling home, ignoring her pleas.

Y/N reached out and grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving. He dryly laughed before turning around and looking her dead in the eye. “What do you want now, Y/N? You gonna insult me again? Call me a bitch again?”

She didn’t let go of his wrist, but looked down. “Im sorry, Murphy. Seriously. I shouldn’t have said that. But you shouldn’t have said it either. Why would you try to start something with me?”

He scoffed and pulled his arm away. “Whatever. I don’t need to answer to you.”

Murphy wasn’t used to kindness or people being sincere so he took her apology as a threat. She swallowed and looked back up at him. “Please sit back down. I’m going to my tent anyways. You can go back to whatever it is that you were doing.”

Murphy shook his head and began to walk back to his tent, but she reached for his shoulder this time and gently pulled him back.

“Please. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.,” She asked again.

Murphy eyed her suspiciously and slowly nodded. “Fine.”

A couple of tension filled moments passed as the two just looked at each other, waiting for someone to do something.

Murphy finally went to sit down and pulled a flask out of his bag. He didn’t look at her again as he popped off the lid and let the container rest between his lips.

She sighed and shook her head. Why did everything have to be so damn difficult? She felt hurt and wished she would’ve said something else but she also felt pity for the boy sitting before her. He looked so lonely.

Y/N made a decision and sat right back where she was before. The warmth of the fire heated up her skin and she looked across the fire to see if Murphy was okay. He was staring at her with an angry expression, but also with a look of amusement.

“I thought you were leaving.,” He stated simply. He placed the flask back in his bag and crossed his arms. A humorless smirk settled on his face. “Couldn’t get enough of me?”

Y/N was quietly staring at the night sky and very obviously not listening to him. She looked so elegant and peaceful under the moon light and Murphy couldn’t help but notice. Even though she had just ripped his head off, Murphy could see that she was normally a very kind human.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?,” He asked, interjecting his own thoughts. “I said I thought you were—”

“Did you know that in a few billion years our north star will become a different star called Vega. It has something to do with the tilt of Earth’s axis.,” Y/N explained, ignoring his statement and interrupting his next attempt at talking to her.

He looked confused but brought his attention up to the sky she was so intently staring at.

Y/N pointed to a zigzag pattern in the stars and sighed happily. “And that constellation right there is called Cassiopeia. And that one over there is called Andromeda. I think.”

He watched her as she excitedly pointed out all her favorite star clusters. He didn’t dare interrupt her now.

“My mom was an astronomer. Before she died she always made up fairytales about the constellations and would tell me stories to help me sleep.,” Y/N told him. “Also, there’s not much else to do in a metal box other than read about the universe we live in.”

A look of nostalgia and pain crossed over her face. He looked up once again and Y/N could have sworn she saw a smile grace his lips.

“My mom used to make up stories too. She would write them down and then tell them to me before I went to bed.,” He said quietly, but then let out a laugh. “Man, you never realize how easy you have it when you’re nine, do you?”

Y/N examined his face, but didn’t detect any sarcasm. He was being genuine with her for some reason.

“ No. I guess not.,” She replied, chuckling a bit too.

Quiet replaced the conversation again and the two teens sat on the splintered logs in silence, just looking at the sky together. Murphy felt peaceful for once. This stranger had scared him, then insulted him, then made him feel safe in a very short amount of time and he was starstruck.

“Im sorry.,” Murphy muttered abruptly. “I shouldn’t have said something like that before. You don’t deserve that. I don’t why I was so mean to you.”

He didn’t meet her eyes, but she knew he was being genuine again. “Thanks, Murphy. You’re not too bad yourself.”

Y/N made the bold decision to move a log closer to Murphy. He watched her, but didn’t object. It was quiet again and the two were content.

He smirked at her again and winked jokingly. “You’re brave, Y/N.”

“And why is that, John Murphy?,” She replied, playing along.

“You are officially the first person in this whole camp to be nice to me.,” He said, gesturing around at all the tents.

“I wasn’t kind though.,” She said while talking a little bit quieter than before. She looked disappointed in herself. “I like to be nice to everyone just in case they’re going through something, but I didn’t do that earlier. I was mean.”

“Mean? Seriously, come on. I randomly insulted you and you had a comeback. That isn’t mean. That’s called standing up for yourself.,” Murphy explained, gazing at her with admiration and respect in his eyes. “I’ve never met someone who has the balls to be kind to someone as bitchy as me.”

“I think you’re brave too Murphy. I know why you were locked up. You’ve been through a lot.,” She muttered softly.

Murphy smiled lightly at her and nodded stiffly., “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot.”

They were facing each other now while they spoke. Y/N was almost thrilled to see him smile again.

“You’re smile is contagious, John Murphy.,” Y/N said boldly. Maybe it was the night air that had taken over her normally anxious self, but right now she was being more flirtatious than ever.

He smiled again and looked down while shaking his head. “I’m gonna hit the hay, Y/N. You gonna stay out here?”

She shook her head and pushed herself off the log. “No. I feel like maybe I’ll be able to sleep now.” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed front the heat of the fire and her eyes looked ready to close any minute. She was positively adorable.

“Sorry about everything, Y/N.,” Murphy said again. He got up too and began to make his way back to his tent. “See you tomorrow night?”

Her heartbeat kicked up and she couldn’t contain the grin that pulled in her lips. “Of course. Goodnight, John Murphy.”

“Night, star girl.”

masterlist

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever - Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Warnings: mentions of depression

Masterlist

Peaceful sleep came a little bit harder

Sweet dreams came a lot harder.

Your dreams followed the same regime every night. Thanos stepping on your chest, holding you down, as he snapped. You’d be defenseless under his massive body and were forced to watch Peter, Nat, Tony, and Venom turn to dust. It wasn’t even accurate to how the events really happened. And you knew that. You knew how Tony and Nat really died. And you knew Thanos was dead himself. But every night, you fell for it. You watched your loved ones die right before your eyes and believed it was really happening. Every night.

Every damn night.

So sleeping was no longer an option. You’d come back from your nightly patrol with Peter and go through your nighttime routine.

Wash off makeup.

Put on pajamas.

Talk about your day.

Go to bed.

Only you never really went to bed. You’d lie awake in Peters arms until he fell asleep. Then, you’d do a number of things. Sometimes you went back out as Venom to patrol. Sometimes you sat on the roof and contemplated the cards you’d been dealt. And sometimes, you’d cry. You’d cry and cry for what you lost. It wasn’t just the people you loved that had been taken from you, it was also those five years with Peter that he’d never get back. He was only gone for five hours. Nothing changed for him. He didn’t have to lead a completely different life. But everything changed for you. You were somewhat of a celebrity in New York. The L/N Report was the number one video news report in the city. Your business was blooming but it meant nothing to you. Accomplishments carried little to no value when you achieved them on your own. Peter wasn’t by your side for any award you’d won. He wasn’t there to read your front lining articles. He wasn’t there when you appeared on television or in magazines. And yes, that wasn’t his fault. You knew that. It was his fault at all. But no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you resented him. You resented him not being by your side, holding your hand, taking the journey with you. So, everyday, you repeated to yourself that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t leave on purpose. It became a mantra of sorts.

“It’s not his fault.” You’d tell yourself. “It wasn’t his fault.”

The worst part, Peter didn’t suspect a thing. He didn’t know about what you had to go through. He didn’t know how close you’d gotten to the Avengers. He didn’t know you moved in with Nat, only to have your home and relationship with her lost in a matter of minutes. He didn’t know about the months spent lying in bed, unable to cope. He didn’t about how your hair became so matted to your head from not having the will to wash it that you had to cut it off. He didn’t know how emaciated you became from not eating. He didn’t know how bad you smelled for not getting out of bed to shower. He didn’t know about the times you cried so hard you threw up. He didn’t know any of it. He only knew he turn to dust, woke up in a strange place, and went to battle. He was utterly unaffected by the snap.

Despite all the feelings you harbored, you didn’t speak of word of it to Peter. He had just lost his father figure in a gruesome way. He had to go back to school afterwards and pretend he wasn’t Spider-Man and didn’t just fight two huge battles. He had to pretend Tony was simply his boss and he didn’t watch him die in front of him. He was going through enough as it was. He didn’t need to hear about your hardships as well. And so, you kept your mouth shut and in a smile.

“It’s like it never happened.” Peter would chuckle to himself. Every time he said it, it felt like a dagger in your side.

Like it never happened.

Like you didn’t lose everything.

“Right. It never happened.” You’d agree. You give him a tight lipped smile and went on with yours days like Peter wanted.

Like it never happened.

Peter had to repeat his senior year, only rubbing salt in the wound that he was so much younger than you now. But his school had a Europe trip planned for before school started. You were slightly relieved to know you wouldn’t see him for a week.

“I don’t have to go. I can just stay home.” Peter told you, hoping you’d ask him to stay. He didn’t want to leave you, but both you and May thought this trip would be good for his stress.

“You’re going. Just as long as you promise to come back this time. And not as a pile of dust.” You teased Peter. He smiled despite feeling disappointed that you didn’t beg him to stay. He was fine staying home with you while his friends had fun. You were his whole world now. He needed you and looked to you for comfort. You’d spent every second with him since he came back. You practically lived with him and May. Days were spent in his bed or on the roof, talking about everything Peter missed. He’d tease you and say the only thing he missed was you, but you knew it wasn’t true. He’d missed a lot more than you’d ever admit.

A part of you wanted some time apart. The other half of you dreaded him leaving. The bigger half. The last time he left for a school trip, he didn’t come back. You were weary about letting him out of your sight again. Peter seemed to sense this fear of yours. He was just as weary about leaving you. He never wanted to be apart again. He’d even whine when you so much as left the bed to go to the bathroom. He was clingier than before. And he had a reason to be. Peter noticed things that you didn’t. He noticed men, not just boys, men staring at you now. You were 24 years old. A woman. You had matured and changed both inside and out. Your facial features had hardened and you lost all remaining traces of baby fat in your cheeks. Your cheekbones were sharper, your eyes more tired, and your hair much longer. You looked like a grown up. Peter, on the other hand, still looked like a teenager. He’d always looked young for his age, but it was even more noticeable when he was standing next to you. He still had pimples and a baby face. He was still just a kid. He wasn’t mature like you were. It made Peter feel funny. He didn’t like when men stared at you because he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d rather be with one of them. A man. Not a boy like himself. He brought these fears up to you.

“Peter.” You laughed dismissively. “Why would I want to be with anyone other than you? I had five years to go out and find a man but chose not to. I don’t care if men stare at me. I don’t even notice when they do. I only have eyes for you.” You cupped his chin and giggled at his fears.

“Well I notice. And I’m 18. Don’t you want to be with a man?” Peter said insecurely. He was afraid of asking, in fear of your answer, but not knowing kept him up at night. He was met with more laughter as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What’s your name again?” You asked coyly.

“What?” Peter asked, not getting where you were going with this.

“What’s your name? I need a reminder.” You said again. He was the one who need the reminder.

“Peter.” Peter answered. You shook your head.

“Not that name. Your other name.” You said.

“Spider-“ Peter began. He smiled, suddenly embarrassed, as he caught on to your game. You had a grin on your face.

“Man?” You asked, finishing his sentence. Peter nodded in defeat.

“Spider-Man.” He grumbled.

“That’s right. Not Spider-Boy. Not Spider-Guy. Spider-Man. You’re a man. And you’re my man. I don’t want to hear about this ever again, okay? I’m not gonna leave you for some random guy on the street. You have nothing to be worried about.” You kissed Peter sweetly. He smiled at you, but didn’t feel entirely better. Guys still stared. He couldn’t do anything to stop them. He felt powerless when you went to bars with your work friends, a place he was too young to enter. Though you’d never tell him, he knew guys would hit on you and offer to buy you drinks. He couldn’t do anything to stop them.

And so, you and Peter were hiding things from each other. For the first time since finding out the other’s secret identity, you were keeping things from each other. Peter hid his insecurities and you hid your doubts. But when you were together, you played the part of a happy couple. A couple that somehow found each other again after all the tragedy of the past five years. Neither of you knowing of the others pain.

You rolled over one morning and slowly woke up. Your eyes fluttered open and you were met with Peters doe brown ones staring you down intensely. He had a dreamy smile on his face, but his eyes said “I want to kill you and wear your skin.” You jumped back and Peter laughed. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face as you calmed down.

“Sorry.” He murmured, still dressed with a smile.

“You’re staring.” You pointed out. It was something he did a lot. You’d often wake up in the morning to find him watching you, as if you couldn’t take a breath unless he was watching you take it. It calmed Peter down to know you were real, safe, and his. So, he stared.

“It’s romantic.” He defended.

“It’s creepy.” You replied. Peter laughed and toyed with your fingers.

“You’re just so pretty.” He sighed. You couldn’t be mad at that.

“I don’t feel pretty. I feel like you’re gonna chop me with a machete.” You told him. He laughed again.

“I’d never chop you with a machete.” Peter told you. He pulled you closer and ran his fingers through your tangled hair.

“That’s something an evil choppy machete man would say.” You bartered. You laughed at yourself but it was cut short by Peter kissing you. You melted into his kiss. Every doubt, fear, and worry melted away too. He always had a way of reminding you why you stayed single those five years. Why you refused to move on. Why you convinced a man to invent time travel. Why you snapped. It for for him. Everything you did was for him. He was worth it. Peter was worth it.

“Hello?” You asked tentatively into the phone. An unknown number had called you early one morning. You heard a series of grumbling and awkward stutters on the other end of the line.

“Hello!” The voice boomed in a confident way. It got less confident as he went on, soon speaking barely above a whisper. “This is uh, this is Mr. Harrington. I mean, Roger. This is Roger. I teach school. I mean, I teach at school. Peters school. I science. No, um, I teach science. I teach science to Peter. Not just Peter, I have other students. At school. Is this Y/n?” The man rambled.

“Speaking.” You bit your tongue to suppress your laughter.

“As I’m sure you know, Peter and myself and 21 other students are going on a trip to Europe in a short amount of time.” Roger said. It sounded like he was reading from index cards. He was very stiff and definitely rehearsed.

“I’m aware.” You said slowly.

“Well as it turns out, two male teachers alone with 14 teenage girls isn’t sitting well with…anyone. We’ve had multiple complaints about not having a female teacher coming on the trip. Due to unfortunate circumstances that I am not legally allowed to repeat, I am legally not allowed to be alone with the majority female teachers in the school. As you might guess, this unfortunate issue can potentially lead to a series of conundrums that would jeopardize the safety of the children. Because you are an adult and well respected in the community due to your popular news report, The L/n Report, and are familiar with many of our students, you were suggested to come on the trip as a chaperone. Do you accept this offer?” Roger asked robotically. You thought over his offer. A week in Europe didn’t sound too bad. And you had been worried about not seeing Peter for that time. His offer was very inviting.

“I’m allowed to go even though I’m not faculty?” You asked.

“I also shared this concern and asked the principle. She said, and I quote, “who gives a-“ and then she proceeded to say an expletive that I do not feel comfortable repeating in the presence of a lady.” Roger said awkwardly. You were finding it harder and harder not to laugh at him.

“Do you mind if I talk to Peter first? You are aware that he and I are involved romantically, right? Won’t that be a conflict of interest?” You asked Roger. Surely a students girlfriend could never act as a chaperone.

“I am aware of your romantical involvement with Mr. Parker. Once again, I also had this concern. As long as you stay on the girls floor of the hotel and he stays on the boys floor, no one actually cares.” Roger answered. You were finding less and less reasons not to go.

“I’ll ask Peter about it. Thank you Roger.” You said politely. Roger chuckled.

“Please, call me Roger.” He said suavely.

“I…did.” You deadpanned.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Every time I practiced this with my mom, she called me Mr. Harrington at the end. I’ll talk to you soon, Y/n.” Roger said into the phone.

“Please, call me Y/n.” You joked.

“I did.” He said seriously, almost defensively.

“No I was…nevermind. I’ll call back soon.” You didn’t try to explain the joke to him. It was no use.

You hung up and went to find Peter to see what he thought.

“Hell yea I want you to come.” Peter cheered. He was overjoyed at the thought of the love of his life accompanying him on the trip of a lifetime. It eliminated his fears of leaving you at home. You were a little surprised at his reaction. You knew he loved you, but he had to get a little sick of you at one point right?

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.” You told him. Peter shook his head and pulled you onto his lap.

“You could never impose. You know that, baby.” Peter said softly. Your cupped your cheek and kissed the other. You habitability wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Then I better call Roger back and tell him I’m coming.” You said.

“Who’s Roger?” Peter said a little too quickly.

“Your science teacher.” You laughed.

“Mr. Harrington?” Peter asked. He never knew his first name. He never wanted too.

“I guess he and I are on a first name basis.” You shrugged sarcastically.

“I kind of hate the thought of you being on a first name basis with my science teacher.” Peter laughed at the thought.

“Oh, well. Sucks to suck.” You teased.

“Maybe so. I’m so relived you’re coming too. I didn’t want to leave you behind.” Peter admitted. You gave him a slight smile.

“Again.” You thought. “He didn’t want to leave me behind again.” Peter was thinking the same thing.

“This is kinda perfect. Now I don’t have to worry about Ned bringing you back in a little plastic sandwich bag.” You admitted your fears as well.

“I like to think Ned would have the decency to put me in an empty tube of chapstick.” Peter played along.

“All jokes aside, I’m glad for this too. I’ve had a hard time letting you out of my sights since The Snappening.” You confessed.

Peter groaned at your choice of words.

“It’s called The Blip.” He corrected you.

“It’s called The Blip by disgusting people who want to watch the world burn. The intellectuals call it The Snappening.” You flipped your hair behind your shoulder in a dramatic fashion.

“I guess my whole school wants to watch the world burn.” Peter shrugged. His school, specially the school news team, had coined the term The Blip.

“Then we better get you out of that school.” You kissed Peter cheek as he laughed.

You spent the rest of the day helping each other pack for the Europe trip. You called Roger back and told him you’d be delighted to chaperone. He was thrilled to hear you say yes and informed you that his mother always said no.

You washed your face that night and looked in the mirror. You studied your reflection. You didn’t look too much older, but enough to notice that you were no longer Peters age. If he noticed, he never mentioned it.

“This will be good for us.” You said in your head so only Venom could hear.

“Are you telling us or asking us?” Venom asked. She could sense your hesitation.

“Telling.” You said quickly. “I am telling you that this trip will be good for me and Peter.”

“We believe you. But do you believe you?” Venom asked again. You stared at your reflection until tears welled up in your eyes.

“Yes.” You said finally. And you meant it. Doctor Strange told you that you and Peter were soulmates. You had to believe him.

You had to.

Your eyes wondered to the flower you kept in a bowl of water on a shelf in the bathroom. You kept it there so you could see it every morning and night. It’s green and black petals glistened in the dim light of Peters bathroom. You had told him it was from Asgard, which is was, but you didn’t tell him it was from Loki. He knew nothing of that day in Asgard. The Time Heist, Thor’s breakdown, the Aether, the kiss. And he wasn’t going to know. Peter didn’t have to know everything you did while he was gone. He just had to know you still loved him now that he was back. And you did.

You did

Tag List 🏷

@monimiin @truthdaze @honeyccoated @constellationswithapurpose @condy-wants-a-cookie @zipp0flare @vxidnik @maddie-laufeyson @bubblegumholland @the-blindwatcher @pmvelez97 @ziggyspurplehaze @grippleback-galaxy @fangeekkk @twilight-loveer @assemblemotherfuckers @bolivianchickennugget @founding-fuck-bois @neonpandicorn @charismas-world @justletmesleeptillidie @multifandom-fiasco @mellow-delight @dangerousluv1 @eridanuswave @learning-howto-be-myselfx3

[mo-mo-and-porkchop]

Freedom is a state of mind

Vikings Fan Fiction

Chapter 10 (Chapter 9 here)

*I do not own any part of the Canon Vikings characters. It is simply my interpretation. I make no profit off of this.

**I do own the original characters and everything associated with them.

Tagging for updates: @whenimaunicorn , @captstefanbrandt , @kenzieam , @mblaqgi , @wish-i-was-a-mermaid , @microsmacrosandneedles , @babeyouareenough , @youbloodymadgenius , @yourpurplequeen

She finished taking care of him for the night before making her way away from his room, stopping in the doorway. Nervously she glanced back at him.

“If there is nothing else, I will return in the morning to change your dressings,” she added flatly.

As she waited for him to break the silence she felt as she would be sick. Her stomach did flips and her heart raced. Her fingers trembled as she held to the frame of the door. The memory of the raids and what she'd lost had gripped at her heart, squeezing it mercilessly. She hadn't been hit with such grief since the tragedy had struck and desperately wished to be relieved of her duties for the night. Thankfully he waved her off in dismissal.

He shifted an arm up under his head as he laid in bed after she'd left. He still felt that initial tug in his gut every time she was near. It was a puzzling feeling. One he had neither felt nor understood any better as the months passed. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that pulled him to her the way that it had.

His mind wandered over the possibilities as sleep began to weigh against his eyelids. Ivar's eyes fell to the doorway as he rolled over and for a fleeting moment she stood before him. A smile tugged at his lips as slumber washed over him.

------

Ivar's brothers couldn't help but notice he, more often than not, was off in the forest and that she was also m.i.a. along with him.

"Where do you think he goes?" Hvitserk asked Ubbe, nodding in the direction of their brother as he caught sight of him crawling from town.

Ubbe watched until he disappeared among the trees. "I don't know," he offered simply.

"He is different, yes?" Hvitserk asked turning back to his brother, his curiosity getting the better of him.

He couldn't deny the change in Ivar's behavior. One most would never notice, but the sons of Ragnar were brothers and saw things hidden to the rest of the world. It hadn't taken him long to notice Ivar's calmer demeanor. There had been no outbursts. No instigation. Not even an arguement between him and Sigurd.

"He has been much more quiet lately, yes," Ubbe agreed.

A wide grin spread itself across Hvitserk's face. He'd been wanting to figure out the mystery ever since the air had begun to change around Ivar. Asking Sigurd was out of the question, the youngest brothers' relationship already shaky at its best, but he wanted help.

This was his chance.

Ubbe's eyes finally found Hvitserk. Whenever he got that glint in his eyes they always ended up in trouble. He doubted now would be any different.

"No," Ubbe said firmly, though it was hard to resist the urge to go along with whatever scheme Hvitserk was planning.

His grin deflated immediately. "No what?" Hvitserk asked feigning ignorance to Ubbe's presumptive denial.

"No to whatever it is you are plotting," Ubbe said definitively.

"What are you denying our brother now?" Sigurd asked casually as he came upon his brothers at the market.

"Nothing," Ubbe lied, his eyes staying with Hvitserk a moment longer. Regardless of Hvitserk's involvement in any mischief, the eldest son of Aslaug knew absolutely nothing good would come from Sigurd finding out about Hvitserk's offer and tagging along.

"Then let him do whatever it is he wants to do," Sigurd offered in defense of Hvitserk.

Hvitserk's eyes caught sight of a familiar, raven-haired slave headed off in the same direction and quickly sided with his older brother.

"Ubbe is right," he said with a quick smile. "It is nothing."

His brother looked at him quizzically, but declined to dig further into his sudden change of heart, hopeful he had listened to him for once.

"I have found something much more entertaining to do anyway," he lied with a sly smirk, motioning to Maragrethe as she walked past through the crowd.

Sigurd and Ubbe followed where he pointed; Sigurd smirking deviously and Ubbe's jealousy creeped up knowing what the two would end up doing. Hvitserk left in her direction, but changed his path for the woods as soon as he was clear of his brothers' sight

------

"No. Like this. Ég er Glohg-ving-uhr ehld-hoos-feef-uhl pah-kah-roif."

"Ég er Gløggvingr eldhúsfifl bakrauf," she repeated with a prideful smile. Ehrlana felt she now knew enough to pass for any other Northerner thanks to Ivar. Surprisingly.

"Good," he said with a slight chuckle.

"What?" she asked growing suspicious.

"It means I am a stingy good for nothing ass," he admitted letting his laugh grow.

"Ivar!" she said feigning offence.

She pulled a bit of grass out and tossed it his way, but laughed all the same. He batted the blades away, his laugh dying down.

"You know enough. What else is there to teach you?" he asked with a shrug.

"I guess nothing," she said convincingly with a sigh, lying back on the ground. "You are useless now."

"I am not useless," he started angrily.

She didn't fight verybhard to contain her laughter.

"That is not funny," he said with a slight pout in his voice.

She shifted an arm under her head and watched as the clouds drifted by in the early evening sun. "I was only joking," she admitted.

Ivar was the one thing that kept her safe among Kattegat and its residents. Everyone feared his wrath and wouldn't dare touch what was his. Including her. But it wasn't his protection alone that made him useful to her. It was their unspoken friendship. He was the one person who, ironically, made her feel normal. Declan was a friend and an ally, yes, but he still treated her as her father's daughter - as a fragile princess. Ivar simply let her be and she returned the favor.

"I know that. I am not stupid," he countered; though a smirk tugged at his lips.

Their ease had been an unexpected side effect of his lessons. One he hadn't fought. He wouldn't deny it felt good to have at least one person seemingly accept him. He also wouldn't let it cloud his judgement of her however. She was after all a slave. He knew what levels they would stoop to in order to gain their freedom. Ehrlana hadn't yet tried anything near as disgraceful as Margatethe, but he wasn't letting their budding friendship distract his knowledge that one day she would. They all did eventually.

-----

The scene unfolding before Hvitserk was far from what he had expected - though he hadn't been one hundred percent sure of what he would have found, but Ivar getting along with her was the last thing he'd imagined.

-----

Ehrlana watched the clouds as they drifted by. "You could teach me the ways of your Gods," she offered as a solution to their educational plateau.

Ehrlana had been watching as the others participated in the celebrations. She’d always been warned about the pagans and their violent nature. While the sacrifices were brutal, she began to understand why they did the things they did. She wasn’t sure if it was the shock to her system at such brutality or the passion they all seemed to share for their rituals, but whatever the reason, their steadfast belief in the Gods fascinated her.

"Won't your Christian God become jeslous," he added with a laugh.

Her family, their people, the neighboring countries…all of them practiced Christianity. But Ehrlana was different. She always had been. As she grew, her need to question her path in life had grown along with her. A non-believer was valueless to her father and he had been furious with her after voicing the curiosity; making sure to keep her aversion well hidden and contained - never surpassing the initial defiance.

"This my home now, yes?" she replied, ignoring his mocking inquiry.

Unexpectedly his heart jumped with her words. Excitement sent a slight chill over him. "Is it?"

She sat up and looked directly in his eyes. It had been long enough that she knew she was here indefinitely. Even with the scare of being discovered, her family had yet to show. If Kattegat was not her home by now it never would be.

"I have not left." Though they both knew as a slave she had no power to decide on travel plans. "I have been here long enough to accept your city as my own. Kattegat is home. You have taught me your tongue well. Now I wish to learn your customs. Of your Gods. The harvest celebration will soon be upon us and I want to be a part of it. I can think of no one better to show me how," she added playing to his ego.

He forced the smile that attempted to show itself away. He would never allow her to see how excited he was to convert a Christian; even if it was just Ehrlana.

"I will think about it," he said with a shrug and slid from atop his rock to leave.

Ehrlana smiled, knowing he would eventually agree. "Then I will wait eagerly for your decision," she said playfully as she stood and followed him. Both unaware of his brother's prying eyes.

-----

As the weeks turned to months Ehrlana’s paranoia over discovery relaxed more and more, eventually fading away. But it would soon return.

She was back at the market restocking ingredients for another batch of Ivar’s balm, it now a part of their nightly routine. And even though he never admitted it, she saw how well it was working. His had pain visibly lessened and she’d been forced to wake him each morning. It was a small victory, one unacknowledged, but a victory nonetheless.

Addis caught sight of her familiar face and followed Ehrlana from stall to stall. His breath nearly caught when she turned his way. He'd been right. Ehrlana was in alive. And here, in Kattegat.

As she made her way to the next stall his voice called out her name, just as Ivar crawled around the corner of a nearby building. The unknown man rushed over to her spouting off something about raids on her homeland and her father. Declan's warning of her discovery and the fear she'd felt came flooding back.

This is who Declan had warned about!

She desperately wanted the man to stay quiet. She grabbed him by the arms to stop his excited movements. He continued rambling on as her eyes darted around looking for Ivar. He had slowed to a stop, hidden and watching. “Ní rachaidh do chabhair ar aghaidh,” she said with a rushed smile.

Speaking her native tongue was the only way to ensure Ivar wouldn’t understand anything if he was near. Her voice was soft and feminine, but there was a ferocity behind it that conveyed her seriousness.

"Ach ní féidir linn labhairt anseo. Buailfimid anocht. Seolfaidh mé focal. Anois téigh.” Her gaze eventually left him and found Ivar. “Téigh!”

Her chest tightened. She could feel the heat of her skin as it flushed with fear.

Her eyes found his and she wrestled it into control and tried her best to prepare for what was to come next.

She glanced over her shoulder at Addis while he rushed from the square. She couldn’t help but notice he left in the direction of Declan’s as he disappeared behind one of the many buildings. When she turned back she fully expected to be met with a barrage of questions from Ivar, but he'd continued on toward the Blacksmith's. Strangely he had decided not to confront her, though she knew he'd seen them.

------

Addis fled to find Declan to tell him of his news. "Declan! Declan, she is here!” he said between breaths when he’d caught up with him. “Ehrlana….I have found her,” he finished, closing the gap between them.

His voice fell to a whisper. As if the two were conspiring against the Queen of Kattegat herself. But this was their way out of this place. This was their way home. He didn’t need listening ears to ruin his plans of leaving.

Declan’s heart dropped. His mind went blank, desperately trying to find a way around all of this. “In a few months time you and I will be in the King's hall, feasting on our behalf,” Addis continued excitedly before Declan could speak. "I’m sending word tonight."

Then, just like that he’d gone, leaving Declan more worried than ever. He had no idea what to do. He'd tried his best to keep Addis from seeing her. He'd run circles around the two for weeks now. The man had no clue just how much danger he could be putting her into. Declan knew Addis was only thinking of the wealth and fame that would come along with such a rescue. He knew the man would spin a tale of some damsel in distress that he valiantly saved. He may have been his father's friend, but he was a storyteller first. Addis could make shoveling manure sound impressive. Especially if it would give his reputation a boost.

-----

Ivar's attention was grabbed with the initial shouting Addis had done. It was the same man who'd been with Ehrlana earlier. He met with someone Ivar had never seen before. His watchful gaze remained focused on the two men when her name was mentioned. From his perch in the blacksmith's he could see everything. He only wished he could hear them.

Sparks flew from the blade he was sharpening, landing in nearby piles of hay unnoticed. Smoke slowly began to rise.

"I do not wish to burn alive today," Sigurd said to his brother as he handed his axe to the smith. Only Sigurd's irritating voice could pull him away from the scene unfolding before him. "Perhaps you should stop staring at your boyfriend and pay attention to your work," he added pointing out at the two men.

Ivar sneered at his brother. Only Sigurd could manage to pull him from the scene. Thanks to him he missed most of their conversation.

"Jealous?"

Sigurd huffed and turned his attention to the smith, watching as his axe was sharpened. Ivar's eyes went back to Addis and Declan, but they had already disappeared. He would simply have to ask Ehrlana later who he was and what exactly he was up to.

[angelicarreaga]

idk about this but can you write brandon fluff. like anything i don’t care just brandon fluff maybe you broke up w ur bf and brandon comforts you??

“I hate you,” you sneered at your boyfriend, who had just broken up with you because he found someone else he wanted to be with. You weren’t enough for him anymore, and he found someone that was.

“Look, Y/n, I’m sorry okay?” he said, “I can’t control this.”

“I don’t care,” you scoffed, opening the closet door of your shared room as you started to aggressively pull all of your stuff off the hangers, kicking the shoes off the lower shelf as well.

“I don’t even have space for this shit,” you whispered to yourself as you tried to pick everything up, forcing the tears back.

“You can come get everything another day if you want,” he told you, unusually calm considering the situation. This was so easy for him. You had been living together, and he just dropped you for someone who probably just had a bigger ass than you.

“I don’t want to come back,” you sneered, “I don’t want to see you again, actually.”

“You’re not gonna be able to get everything out in one shot, plus it’s late, Y/n,” he told you, and you let out an annoyed sigh knowing he was right.

“Fine,” you said, “I’ll take what I can but I don’t want to speak to you when I come back for everything else.”

You began stuffing what you could into bags that you had lying around, taking your favorite possessions as well as some clothes so you could actually be clothed for the next few days.

You began walking to the front door, your now ex boyfriend trailing behind you, a stoic expression on his face as he casually watched you.

“I’m sorry again, Y/n, I didn’t want it to end like this,” he apologized.

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth, “you’re not sorry.”

You scrambled with all your belongings as you went outside, slamming the door behind you as you walked outside, the cold rain hitting you immediately. The tears that had already begun streaming down your face were being mixed with the raindrops falling onto your face.

“Of course,” you groaned, trying to find somewhere you could stand under for shelter while you figured out what to do. You cursed the fact that you didn’t even have your car since it was in the garage getting repairs.

You scrolled through your phone contacts, trying to think of someone to call so you had somewhere to go for the night at least. You had just been kicked out of the place that you lived, and now you were stranded out in the rain with nowhere to go.

Your finger hovered over Brandon’s contact name, pushing the call button as you held the phone up to your ear, praying that he would answer.

“Hello?” he answered, his voice groggy probably from already being asleep.

“Brandon?” you choked out, trying to sound casual but you didn’t even know what to say to him.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice changing, becoming more alert. “What’s going on?”

“I-I-I need somewhere to stay tonight, can I come to your house?” you asked, not wanting to impose but at this point you were basically desperate.

“Of course,” he said frantically, “where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’m in front of my apartment,” you sniffled.

“Stay there I’ll be there soon,” he told you, hanging up.

You waited for Brandon, and once you saw him car pull up, you basically sprinted to the passenger door, grateful to be saved from the rain which had now soaked your clothes, your hair, and the bags you were carrying.

You continued to cry, trying to wipe away your tears as well as the rain on your face, but your wet sleeve made that a little difficult.

“Y/n,” Brandon muttered sympathetically, reaching over to touch your shoulder, knowing he would give you a hug once you were out of the car. “Let’s get you home.”

He started driving, the streets basically empty as he sped back to his house. 

When he pulled into the driveway, he basically ran over to your side of the car, taking all your stuff out before helping you get out, bringing you to the front door that he had left unlocked.

You stepped in, sighing contently at the warmth, although you were still shivering from the wet clothes you were wearing.

“Come, you can borrow a sweater,” Brandon told you, going upstairs with you as he went through his closet, handing you the sweater he knew was one of your favorites.

“My favorite,” you smiled weakly. “Thank you so much for this, B, honestly.”

“You know I got you,” he smiled, giving you a pair of jogging pants to go under the sweater as well.

He left the room as you quickly changed, peeling the wet clothes of your skin and settling into the oversized, warm clothes Brandon had given you. You sat down on the edge of his bed, putting your head in your hands as you thought about everything all over again, the pain hitting you. How could you have been so stupid? You thought he loved you, you never would have thought he would leave you for someone “better”.

Brandon knocked gently on the door, and you told him to come in, his figure appearing in the doorway.

“Come here,” he told you, holding his arms open for you, waiting for you. He always did this when he knew you were upset. He knew sometimes what you needed was a hug,

You stood up and walked over to him, basically collapsing into his arms as he held you tightly, his strong arms comforting around your body as you continued to cry.

Brandon bit his lower lip, fighting back his own tears as he watched the girl he loved in so much emotional pain. It was hard for him to bear.

He didn’t say anything for a while, rubbing your back and stroking your hair as he let you release all your emotions on him. Soon enough you pulled back, apologizing for being an emotional wreck.

“What happened?” he asked out of curiosity, “I thought things were going well with you two?”

“I thought so too,” you said, “but he left me because he found someone else. He said I wasn’t enough for him anymore.”

“What a dick,” Brandon whispered, making you let out a small sad chuckle at the comment.

“Seriously though, Y/n, he doesn’t deserve you if he doesn’t see how amazing you are,” Brandon said, his arms wrapping around you again, swaying back and forth gently. “You are one of the greatest people on this planet, and he’s going to regret letting you go. You deserve someone who doesn’t think there’s such thing as anyone better than you.”

“Thanks, B,” you smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he smiled.

He noticed you yawn after most of the crying had subsided, your body beginning to crash after the high emotions that had just taken over.

“You can sleep in my bed,” he told you, “I’ll take the couch downstairs.”

He began walking out the door but stopped when you called his name. He turned around to look at you over his shoulder, assuming you were going to ask for something else you needed.

“Can you sleep in the bed with me?” you asked. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“A-are you sure?” he stuttered, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but a smile spread across his face when you nodded.

He helped you get settled into bed first, letting you choose a side as you snuggled under the covers, not caring that you didn’t wash your face or brush your teeth or do anything that was usually part of your nightly routine.

Brandon climbed in beside you, the warmth of his body drawing you towards him as you scooted closer to him, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Thanks again,” you muttered groggily. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He looked down at you as you drifted off into sleep, your breathing becoming more steady than it had been earlier, a peaceful look on your face replacing the hurt expression you had earlier.

As he watched you, he wondered how anyone in their right mind could leave you for someone else. In his mind, it was only you, and there was no one who could be better.

[watercolourferns]

Nightly Run

Zyrcone | Angst & Comfort | 1974 words | Modern AU | seeing!Marcone

Overview: “So it seems… Gods above, what would I do without you?? You’re so good to me, Zayn…”

“It’s not being ‘good’, Macaroon, it’s me loving you and you letting me love you. But probably pass the night on the street where you collapsed and wake up in a cell for indecent exposure?” the dancer said teasingly, snickering and kissing the man’s lips softly. “Luckily we will never know the answer to that question…” The man laughed again, but then pulled the dancer closer, closing his eyes. “Never? You sure…?” “Yes, never. I’m very very sure…” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightly Run

The night wasn’t exactly chilly, but it wasn’t as warm as it had been a few days ago, the crickets going quiet, showing the change in temperature. Zayn was walking down the street, humming to himself as the tinkering of his dance attire’s jewelry sounded underneath his coat. He had taken a gig up at the local Middle Eastern themed bar, dancing three nights a week and this was his second week. It was just a couple of hours, but when he saw the ad he had talked it over with Marcone and decided that it might be good for him and his tendency to be a shut in. 

Some nights were a bit heavier than others and he sometimes arrived home an hour or so later than he wanted, but he loved his job and Marcone was very understanding of it. He felt so lucky about that, and he loved it when Marcone promised to go to the bar once he had settled into his new routines.

As he arrived at the porch, the dancer saw the light of the main bedroom on. That was never a good sign, usually at this time of the night it was off. He hurried up the porch steps pulling out his key from his messenger bag, but before he could put it in the lock the door swung open. “Amor?” he said, taking a step back as he saw the man standing in the doorway in pyjamas but with his sneakers on. “Marcone? What is it, mi amor?”

The man didn’t answer, walking out the doorway and into the dimly lit porch. He had that look again. Zayn had seen it several times now, especially after a really bad night terror. They had been living together for almost two years now and Zayn could more or less read the signs before or after, depending on the situation, and the signs were all there. But he had never caught Marcone going out during a crisis, he would usually wake up with a scream, look around and take him into his arms, hugging him so tight Zayn had to gasp for air after a moment. But this time it was different, the man was standing there, looking at him without looking at him, his thousand yard stare haunting. The dancer took a step forward again, dropping his bag near the door. “Marcone, it’s night, and it’s cold, let’s go in, shall we, amor mío? We can walk inside and you can tell me all about what’s going on, yes?” he said, getting near, but not daring to touch him. “Go away, leave me alone!” Marcone said, taking a step back from the dancer and starting to trot down the porch steps. Zayn recoiled back, but decided to follow him, throwing his bag into the house and closing the door. “Wait, Marc, wait!” he exclaimed, running behind him. “Leave me alone!! Get back!!” Marcone shouted again, looking back at the man and starting to run. “Shut up!! Leave!!”

“Marcone, please, what’s going on? Please stop, let’s talk about this, what happened?!” Zayn called, starting to run as well. “YOU VERY WELL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!! DON’T TOUCH ME, JUST FUCKING LEAVE!!” Marcone roared, turning completely, stopping his run, and looking at the shorter with daggers in his eyes, as if he couldn’t recognise him. Then he covered his ears with his hands, looking pained, and then turning back he restarted his run, mumbling to himself, gasping. “M-Marcone…” Zayn whispered softly, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. He clutched his chest and felt the tears coming in his hazel eyes, but a little voice in his head told him Marcone needed him regardless of what he said. So he sniffed and brushed the tears off his eyes, deciding to follow the man at a safe distance. As the man took off on a faster run, it was all the dancer could do to follow him on the other side of the sidewalk, panting slightly, the jewelry starting to feel heavy on his slight frame. Running and running, he didn’t know how long they had been running but it felt like ages and everytime he thought Marcone would stop he just ran faster till Zayn thought he might lose him in the night. After more or less an hour, finally, Marcone stopped near the intersection to get out of the suburbs they lived in. He wobbled on his feet and suddenly fell to this knees, panting and sweating, mumbling even more. “No… away… what-what is… I can’t…” he mumbled, his eyes unfocused. Zayn gasped and ran as fast as he could to catch up, sliding towards him on his silk-clad knees and taking him by the shoulders, if he was going to be pushed away so be it, Marcone was in bad shape and that was all that mattered. “Marc?? Marcone?? Oh gods, mi amor! Easy, easy, I’m here… It’s alright… I’m here… We need to call an ambulance… Marcone… Oh, mi amor…” he said, starting to cry, tears falling on the man’s face. “Z-zayn…? Wh-what are you… doing here… It’s… dangerous… the sky is red… Red and yellow… no… don’t…” the man garbled, unable to communicate properly as if lost in a fog Zayn couldn’t follow him into.

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

Marcone opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling of his bedroom, a soft bluish glow and white stars adorning it, moving slowly as if they were revolving. “Want me to turn it off? I-I thought it might be something nice to wake up to,” a soft voice said, coming closer to him. 

He sat up, pushing the soft covers off, rubbing his eyes and looking around. He had an IV in his arm, attached to what seemed like a drip. He still couldn’t focus that well, but he knew a drip when he saw one. “No, leave it on. Where am I?” he asked as Zayn came into focus, the dancer standing some five feet away from his bed, looking nervous, wearing his house shorts, two patches on his knees. “What happened? Did you fall while dancing??” The dancer flinched a little at the urgent tone, but then shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m more interested in how you’re feeling…” he said softly, cracking his knuckles. “At the moment? With a raging headache and very confused, babe. Can you please tell me what’s going on?” the taller man asked, starting to get nervous himself. “Why are you so far away??” “May I get closer?” the dancer asked unsurely, worrying his lower lip. “Of course you can, baby! What a question to ask, love, come here, please…” The man looked confused as Zayn walked tentatively towards him, sitting on the edge of the bed and only hugging him when he opened his arms. “I’m sorry… You didn’t want me to get near you before, I just wanted to make sure it was alright now…” the dancer whispered softly against the man’s chest while he hugged him tightly. “I-what? What do you mean? Zayn?” Marcone asked, pushing the younger man gently away to see him eye to eye. “Please, tell me what happened. All I remember is that I was lying on a gurney, I don’t remember how I got there. You were there, but I don’t know where you came from or how we got there… and now I’m here and I just…” Zayn placed a finger on Marcone’s lips, stopping him from working himself up again, and sighed. “Alright.. I’ll tell you…” he said and recounted the event as gently as he could, stopping at the moment where Marcone yelled at him, glossing over it and finishing his retelling. Marcone frowned, taking Zayn’s hands in his, his eyes moving from one hand to the other as he heard his lover speak. “Wait, wait… I did what?!” the man gasped after a few moments to let the story sink in. “I yelled what??” “That it was my fault and I knew what happened and to leave you alone… Marcone, is it because of my late nights? I’m sorry I will-” but the man put up a hand and shook his head, looking serious.

“No, don’t. I have no problems with you dancing at the bar, not even when you get here late. I know you love your job and I love that you love it. It has.. It has…” he cut himself off as he felt the tears start to fall from his light eyes. “Gods above, what did I do?!” He started to tremble with repressed sobs, and suddenly he let the damn break, crying openly, curling his hands into fists. His whole frame trembling with the force of his sobs. Zayn covered his mouth with his hand, unable to stem his own tears seeing his beloved crying so heartbreakingly. Then he hugged Marcone gently, patting his back and making soft shushing sounds, not to shut him up, but to try and ease his pain a little. “I’m so sorry, babe… I didn’t mean to… How c-could I say that?!… I’m so sorry! Can you ever forgive me?!” he sobbed, hugging Zayn tightly to himself. The dancer hugged him back tightly, too, kissing his temples and hair, caressing him with great care, as if he were a piece of fragile porcelain, murmuring tender words of love and understanding.

“It’s alright, mi amor, it’s alright. I’m here, and there’s nothing to forgive. Did you have a night terror and that’s why all this happen?” Zayn asked, kissing the man’s forehead again and making him look him in the eyes.

The man nodded, still crying and the dancer brushed the tears away gently, pulling a tissue form the nearby box and cleaning Marcone up. “Blow on this… Good, good. It’s going to be fine, I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere…” After several moments, Marcone finally calmed down but never let go of the dancer, who had been singing a lullaby in Spanish to him. “What happened to your knees then?” he asked finally, pulling Zayn into the bed and under the covers with him, snuggling into him. “Heh… When I slid towards you I got burned with the fabric of my harem pants. It’s not real silk but nylon, so it heated up with the friction and I got two small burns. But it’s no big deal, I was more worried about you collapsing and how I was going to get you back home!” Zayn said, nuzzling him, running his fingers through his hair, letting him rest his head on his chest.

“How did you bring me back home, though?” Marcone asked, tracing Zayn’s profile with his fingers. “I called Kia, who called Dammy, who wanted to bring in a helicopter. But we talked him out of it and he just brought in a private ambulance. A doctor oversaw you and placed you on the IV. There’s a nurse downstairs with them, too. She’s going to spend the night here to monitor you, amor…” the dancer said, caressing the man’s face back. “And before you ask, we sent Lance with Killian to the cottage, they are having a little sleepover there, and they are safe. You have so many people who love and care about you and your brother, mi amor, including me. So you don’t have to worry about anything…” Marcone blinked at Zayn and then barked a laugh. “So it seems… Gods above, what would I do without you?? You’re so good to me, Zayn…”

“It’s not being ‘good’, Macaroon, it’s me loving you and you letting me love you. But probably pass the night on the street where you collapsed and wake up in a cell for indecent exposure?” the dancer said teasingly, snickering and kissing the man’s lips softly. “Luckily we will never know the answer to that question…” The man laughed again, but then pulled the dancer closer, closing his eyes. “Never? You sure…?” “Yes, never. I’m very very sure…” ~~~~~ I hope y’all like it, Marcone Vintura is @finally-romancable-npc‘s baby and we stan him in this house!!

[saltnhalo]

noctuary

Noctuary: a record of what passes in the night; a nightly journal.

In the early days of his childhood, before he knew of monsters and demons and things that went bump in the night, Dean Winchester kept a diary.

Most of the entries were normal—just documentations of everyday life.

Dad taught me the proper way to throw a baseball. I can’t wait until I can start playing for reals.

Today we made apple pie for Thanksgiving, and mom let me have the biggest piece.

Sammy read his first book today. He’s going to be smart, I can tell.

He would write an entry every night, just before he went to bed, and he did so for many years. Every day written down, in a special journal that Dean kept in a box under his bed. To him, it was just a nice routine, a bit of fun.

Until all of a sudden, it wasn’t.

It began when Dean was ten.

Dear diary.

I think there’s something in my closet.

The door opens without me touching it, and sometimes I hear noises coming from inside. My room feels cold some days, and it moves around while I’m asleep. I keep my eyes closed really tight when I can hear it, and hope that it will go away.

When Dean tells his dad, John laughs it off. “There’s no monster hiding in your closet, Dean. Monsters aren’t real.” To placate him, though, John wedges a chair under the closet handles that night before Dean goes to sleep. “There you go,” he says jokingly, “the monster can’t get you tonight.”

Dean is relieved. That night, he doesn’t write in his diary.

In the morning, when he wakes up, his chair is back under his desk as though it was never moved in the first place.

~

Dean’s dad doesn’t believe him when he tells him about the monster, and his mom doesn’t listen at all, just brushes it off as his overactive imagination. His diary becomes his only outlet.

Dear diary,

I heard the monster tonight.

Dear diary,

I’m scared. Please send someone who can help me.

Dear diary,

Dear diary,

Dear diary.

~

Dean writes in his diary for weeks. And in those weeks, the darkness he can feel lingering in his closet spreads dark tendrils of fear into his room. Things move, deep growls rumble through his room at night, lights flicker on and off—but it never touches Dean. Just lingers.

What it’s waiting for, he doesn’t know, but he knows it’s there, even though the closet is always empty whenever one of his parents open it.

For weeks, the thing spreads, and nothing happens.

And then one night, everything happens at once.

~

It’s very late on a Sunday night, and the whole house is asleep.

The whole house, bar one.

Dean had almost been asleep when he’d heard it—the sound of claws rasping against wood, something dragging, slithering. The sounds are coming from his closet.

He pulls his covers up over his head and trembles, hoping the blankets will muffle the sound that only he seems to be able to hear—but they don’t. The scraping gets louder. He can hear the monster breathing, and fear wraps around his heart in a cold grip. The monster has lain dormant for so long that Dean can’t even begin to imagine why it’s here, or what it wants from him.

He knows, though, deep in his heart, that whatever its plan…

It’s happening tonight.

The closet door creaks as it slowly, slowly swings open.

Dear diary, Dean thinks. Please, I need someone to help me, I’m—I’m so scared. Please help me.

And then he hears something else.

Something new.

It’s like a hum, except made of a thousand different voices each singing a slightly different tune. They blend into an overwhelming harmony that at first makes no sense, but slowly… the sounds recombine into syllables, and then into words, and then Dean can hear.

“You’re sure this is the place, Castiel?”

A second voice speaks, now, in a different harmony, made of a thousand new voices. Dean likes this one better than the first. “Yes. I can feel it. There is something sinister in this house, Anael, of such intense malicious intent and so strong that I can feel its power growing with every passing minute. We must hurry.”

Their voices are in Dean’s head, but somehow he knows that these people—are they people? Whoever, or whatever, they are—are nearby.

He holds his breath. In his closet, the monster growls again, louder and deeper than Dean has ever heard it. The house is otherwise silent, creaking occasionally in the wind, his family surely all fast asleep. A cold sensation starts in Dean’s toes, slowly creeping upward along his legs. The wooden end of Dean’s bed creaks and snaps beneath the strong grip of claws, and he trembles harder.

Please, please, please. Help me.

And then the windows of Dean’s room shatter inwards.

His head still tucked under his blankets, Dean is protected from the shards of glass that rain across the room, but he hears the monster screech horribly. The sound is like talons on metal, and he cries out as the pain of it lances through his head.

“Protect the child!” the first voice orders, and all at once, Dean feels the cold that grips his body subside. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and stays where he is, curled into a ball beneath the covers. Whatever is going on out there, he knows he doesn’t want to look until it’s all over.

The monster shrieks again, knives and nails and the screams of so many tormented people, but this time there are words laced into the earsplitting sound. “Mine,” it snarls, in a voice so awful that every single one of Dean’s hairs stand on end. “My chosen prey. You angels have no right.”

The harmonic voices come again, filling Dean’s head with light and sound and more stimulation than he can possibly take.

“He has prayed. He is protected. Leave this place.”

“Not until what I get what I have been waiting for. Preying on. Biding my time to consume. You will have to kill me before I give it up.”

“So be it.”

Dean’s mind implodes.

He covers his mouth with his hands and screams silently as the room explodes with cold— light—sound—darkness. Everything changing, too quickly for him to process and so overwhelming. He shakes under the blankets as outside his protective cocoon, the two voices—angels? Could it be?—fight against the monster that has been lingering at the edges of his nightmares for so long.

He is protected.

The noise—the unearthly screeching, and the sound of bells and voices so loud that Dean’s ears must be bleeding—continues and continues for a timeless age, until the foundations of his house creak and groan and shake, until Dean can’t take any more, until—

All of a sudden, it stops.

There is silence, and then the second voice says, “Track the creature, Anael. Don’t let it escape. I will tend to the child.”

Dean is blissfully empty. Free of unbearable cold or burning heat, earsplitting sounds or lights so bright they seem to have burned themselves into his mind, despite his eyes being so tightly closed. For one pure moment, he just is.

Slowly, shakily, he uncurls from his defensive ball and opens his eyes.

From under the edges of the blankets that he’s pulled over himself, Dean sees a soft, blue, glowing light.

“Dean Winchester?”

The voice seems… softer. It’s still a thousand different voices in his head, all combined into one, but the words are quiet. Tentative. Whatever is speaking to him, it doesn’t want to frighten him.

When Dean blinks, his lashes are wet, and he realizes he’s been crying. “W-what?” he whispers quietly. His voice shakes.

The light outside his blankets shifts and brightens. “You can… you can hear me?”

It sounds almost surprised.

“Yes,” Dean says quietly. He curls his fingers around the edge of the blankets, and the glow gets brighter as he lifts them up just a little. “I could hear you, and—and the monster.”

He wants to see the angel, and he sits up, pushing the blankets off himself.

“Wait—“ says the voice as he moves, but it’s too late.

For a few seconds, the blue glow filling Dean’s room is too bright, to the point where he has to squint against it and hold his hand up to his eyes to shield them. And then it slowly fades away, and Dean’s eyes widen at the sight before him.

Crouched in Dean’s room is a creature so big that it shouldn’t possibly be all fitting in here—and indeed, the room feels off, like it’s been modified and stretched and manipulated just to be able to accommodate this… angel.

It has three heads; one lion, one crow, and a human one in the middle that watches Dean with ethereal, blue, too-large eyes. It has paws and hooves and feet and it’s so squished into Dean’s room that he can’t see just how it all fits together, but the one thing that stands out are the two blue-black wings pressed against the walls of Dean’s room.

They shift and sparkle, constantly moving, stars and galaxies confined within those ink-dark feathers as though this creature holds the entire universe on its back.

Dean can only stare, completely lost for words.

The angel blinks once, slowly, then leans in closer to Dean. None of its mouths move, but Dean clearly hears it say in his head, “You can see me?”

“Of course,” he replies, like it’s the plainest thing in the world. “You look nice. I like your wings.”

In Dean’s mind, there is a sound like bells and wind chimes. The angel is happy. He smiles.

“Thank you for saving me from the monster. Mom and dad thought I was lying about it, but I told my diary. Is that why you came?”

“We came because you needed us, Dean Winchester,” the angel says in his head. “You are protected.” It reaches out one huge paw and settles it gingerly on the end of his bed.

Dean puts his hand on the glowing, blue fur. It feels soft and solid, but a shiver runs up his arm, and a taste like static electricity sparks across his tongue. When he looks back up, it almost feels like the angel is smiling.

“I am the angel Castiel,” it says. “I must go now, but I am sure we will meet again, Dean Winchester.”

It spreads its wings, and they ripple with the shifting of a million tiny stars and galaxies. The room is filled with a flash of light, so bright that Dean finally has to close his eyes against it, and when he opens them, the angel is gone. His hand falls to the bed.

The house is silent once again, as though nothing had ever happened.

At the foot of Dean’s bed, though, balanced atop the quilted covers, lies a single black feather. He picks it up and runs his fingers along its length; it feels impossibly, ethereally soft.

Dean smiles and holds it to his chest.

I am sure we will meet again, Dean Winchester. 

[tuffin-tuffmuffin]

Art from the talented @goattrain.

Resistance, Dinner

For the second time in a row, the setting sun only gave Natasatch worry.

It had been months since Natasatch watched a human settlement commence its nightly rituals, and certainly in a better context this time. The marketplace folded itself neatly into the trailers it sprung forth from, and the permanent hanging holiday lights gave the compact streets a completely different atmosphere. There were a few humans milling about, most of them militia guards, but a few were those who missed out on satisfying their curiosity of the local alien earlier in the day. None gave her anything resembling trouble, however, and she took the time to peruse the amenities until she grew bored. Inevitably, her mind turned to her friend Malcolm, who had passed through the marketplace fourteen times on his aimless walking. She counted.

Natasatch knew he needed help. How to achieve that was one of her greatest challenges yet.

Ultimately, she decided to copy her friend’s strategy, applied to the very same friend. Experience showed Malcolm was happiest when sharing “human culture.” The formerly-upbeat human had a list of memorabilia or events he insisted she must experience eventually, one that she had trouble remembering at the moment. Near the end of the day, the sight of one such promised experience on the edge of the marketplace jogged Natasatch’s memory, and fortunately, Aida’s blanket discount applied.

The reserve that Safari Outpost eventually became already possessed a restaurant, and little had changed in the fifteen years since it officially closed, or so she was told. Busts of dead animals and pictures of humans with firearms lined the walls, all cast in a soft yellow from the few hanging lights that still worked. The wooden-floored center of the rectangular building was empty. It was late, and Natasatch surmised the restaurant must’ve already served its regular patrons. Only a waiter and a bartender remained, but both seemed to be quietly working once their orders were placed. The two looked nearly as antique as their restaurant, and they weren’t going to let any alien interrupt their routine. Malcolm sat opposite her in the corner table for two. Natasatch still found human chairs difficult, and opted to rest upright on her own coils where her seat would be. In the background, a wooden jukebox delivered music consisting of simple guitar strings, but their focus was elsewhere. An electric imitation of a candle added an orange glow to their faces: one hopeful, one sullen.

Malcolm cut off a slice from the “steak,” which was an ADVENT burger patty in a different shape with some minced plants and sauce on top. He took a bite and said, “You know what? You’re doing your best, and I’m proud of you, actually.” Natasatch, who was debating between awkwardly imitating the human food custom or simply snatching the identical meal in one bite, looked up at her companion. “What do you mean? “Trying to cheer me up. The food, the small talk, and the sort. Getting my mind off our shitty vacation.” He had a bit of his confidence back, but a sense of resignation offset whatever gain she witnessed. “Is it working?” Natasatch asked. “Not really.”

Natasatch deflated instantly. She let out a tsssk, but managed to prevent it from becoming a full hiss. Her frustration lingered. “I’m... trying. What more do I need to do to make it work?” He shrugged. “I don’t think you can, to be honest. I’m a tough case.” She rose to the challenge. “I learned ‘cheering up’ from you. What makes you special, that it wouldn’t work?” He chose not to answer directly. After a few moments, he sighed and said, “I did this talk for Ackers too.” “Hmm?” “That’s why this one bites hardest. Ackers is- was, I suppose now- he was a unique friend to me. We’re assigned to the same cramped bunk; he gets it night hours, me the day hours. He started out real quiet, since he had been through a lot, like the rest of us. Family suffocated by viper poison, he admitted after I got him a few drinks at the bar, in a spot just like this one.” Nat commented, “This situation... is similar, yes.” “But Ackers, he also didn’t say he just wanted to kill aliens. He said he wanted to make the world safer for his sister.” She tried her best to put aside every instinct telling her to make Ackers suffer for his betrayal, and tried to view him through a sympathetic light. Just like Malcolm would. “In a way, I suppose I could understand. He still viewed me as a threat, and one that everyone in XCOM seemed to be blind to.” “That’s horseshit.” Her first thought was that Malcolm had never said anything so gruff before. Her second thought was to wonder what a horse was. Malcolm cut off a slice of his food, chewing away in the silence. When it was obvious Natasatch wasn’t going to speak first, he continued, “You look surprised to hear that. Probably thinking I would say ‘He’s really a good guy this,’ ‘his parents were killed by Vipers’ like that’d make everything okay. Ackers was ready to throw away everything he stood for, to try to murder us ‘cause of a grudge meant for someone else.” “Yes.” She gave an awkward laugh, which died the moment it left her mouth. “I feel like we decided to switch the sides of the argument between us.”

“And you’re probably right. In fact, I know I should be at his side. Hell, before today, I’d be first in line for the Ackers Defense Squad. ‘Till this. Cuts right through my lie.”

A pause, and the Viper blinked. “Lie?”

Malcolm sighed, then focused on her. “This lie,” he said in a resigned tone. Then he smiled.

It was Malcolm’s regular, easy-going, worry-assuring look, once again on her human friend’s face. His lips pulled back across his white teeth, the muscles pausing in the right spots to create youthful dimples, and the way one corner of his mouth rested further back than the other... and the warm look in his eyes, bright and brown, impervious to the damage that their owner suffered yesterday. Natasatch almost reflexively grinned back, caught herself, but then let it show. Why would she need to conceal it, after all?

Then there was only one smile at the table. Hers. Her human friend looked back at her, sullen and shaken once more. His eyes drifted down to her mouth, still pulled into a happy look, and she sensed his skin grow cold as his muscles clenched. As if he realized a terrible mistake. Natasatch put her smile on hold. “I’m... afraid I don’t follow.”

“Me,” Malcolm gestured toward himself in its entirety. “I’m the lie.”

Her mind raced, a hundred horrifying possibilities dueling for control of her mind. Was he confessing his guilt as an ADVENT spy? Some advanced Faceless? Mind control puppet? Something worse? Natasatch looked around, seeing how the chef and waiter reacted, only to find them gone and herself alone. She was still on edge, ready to fight or flee, as he continued. “I mean, it’s an act. A sham. Not the real me. It pays off being raised by thespians.”

Thespians... actors? What? She finally externalized one of her countless questions. “Then who are you actually, Malcolm Silva?”

“I’m pretty damn depressed, actually,” Malcolm responded without missing a beat.

When it became clear Natasatch wasn’t prepared to respond, Malcolm calmly continued, “I think my parents raised me right. Community-minded, moral, always seeing the best in people, and an aficionado of the cultural arts. That got them killed by us, other humans, volunteering for ADVENT outreach in our slums when ADVENT was still deciding if the carrot or the stick worked better. Everyone else I knew died when the aliens brought the stick down on the entire favela. My parent’s dream of a better world was doomed from the start because us humans were gonna let fear and paranoia ruin it and the aliens were gonna prove their fear and paranoia right. Maybe, one day, we can fight off ADVENT, but our real enemy is gonna be ourselves.”

Malcolm looked her in the eyes, resting his chin on his hands. With a sorrowful calmness, he said, “Even in the group most likely to change the world for the better, human nature is going to win out.”

“Would you say the same, even if you were not swimming in pain-killers?” Natasatch asked.

“Well, I admit I get philosophical when I’m loopy, but all this was there before.” He appeared slightly annoyed as he responded.

“So, where did this ‘lie’ come from?

“Acting is just another kind of lying, Nat. You pretend you’re someone you aren’t, saying a script that isn’t true, convincing others that you’re genuine.” He shrugged. “Like I said, it pays to have thespian parents.”

“That is not quite what I asked, Malcolm. Why did you even ‘lie’ about being happy at all? There are no shortage of traumatized soldiers on the Avenger. You would have fit right in.”

“I...” he trailed off. “Well, you’re right about that,” Malcolm conceded. “That’s all I saw when I first stepped on board. Nothing but misery everywhere. I guess I must like being a rebel, because I just... put on that mask as a spur of the moment, and then never really took the smile off.”

The Viper focused in on Malcolm, upset without anger, interrogatory without malice. “Then explain why you tried to rescue me when your comrades would rather me dead? Why try to teach me about human culture and ethics and history? Why would you even bother to show me Star Trek? Was every single one of those a calculated ploy?”

“Well, I had Star Trek on hand anyway,” Malcolm mumbled. She raised an eye ridge. Of the expressions she’d copied from her humans, she enjoyed that one the most, since humans somehow always knew the thought behind the gesture. This time was no different.

He sighed, and shrugged, not looking her in the eyes. “...I think I started believing in that lie for a bit too. ‘Specially after everyone started lightening up around you, it started getting easier to tell myself tomorrow was going to be better when I woke up. ... Least ‘till Ackers pulled the curtain back on what I’d ignored.”

“You know what I think?” Natasatch offered, not giving him time to brood. “I think that whatever you claimed to think before, you actually still believe in that pointless optimism, because now you have proof you were right.”

“What?”

The alien lowered her head, meeting him at eye level. The electric candle’s glow against her scales shimmered, and her hood’s slight flex solidified her human’s attention. Natasatch placed her hand, the one that Malcolm bandaged, over his own injured forearm, and gave him the most determined look she could. Yet, in the alien’s genetically-engineered eyes, he saw nothing but sympathy and kindness in the deep red, and in turn Natasatch saw a spark of understanding in his.

This.

Moistness came at the edges of Malcolm’s eyes. “I’ve already killed more aliens than I’ll ever befriend, Natasatch,” he almost whispered. She finally recognized the guilt for what it was.

“That is not true,” came the gentle counter. Yet, Natasatch found the answer she sought. You do care.

It was another few moments before Malcolm finally broke eye contact. The Viper took a deep breath, and started again. “Look, Malcolm, you may have killed many ADVENT, and you’ll probably have to kill many more.”

“That... really doesn’t help, Nat.”

“Yet, if those you ended were offered the same choice you gave me, not all of them would have been your enemies.”

He actually seemed to recoil from that. “I could have... Nat, you’re doing the opposite of consoling m-”

“Listen, Malcolm. We did what we needed to survive, so do not begrudge yourself for that. But the other aliens like me will never get that choice as long as the Elders control them, but you may have been the first to convince your kind to make the offer. Do not ever forget or downplay what you’ve accomplished.”

The human gave a humorless chuckle. “Watch me. In fact, yesterday you just watched me almost get die trying it again! I’ve started this dance before, Nat, and it’s ended in misery each time. Even if I keep trying, even when it works, it’s a drop in the bucket for the better Earth we need. If that future happens —which it can’t— I’m never going to reach it.”

“Not without me at your side,” Natasatch affirmed. She slid her hand back and clasped his fingers in her palm, giving it a small squeeze. Humans preferred to confirm deals with a handshake, after all, though her adjusted version was far from standard. A curious heat bloomed on Malcolm’s face, around the cheeks, and she couldn’t explain why seeing such gave her a feeling of contentment. “After all, you wouldn’t survive for a minute without my help.”

Finally, a genuine smirk, one that Malcolm was actively struggling to suppress. “I’m gonna drag you down with me, Nat. I can’t do that to you.”

“Perhaps you will. Perhaps not. Everything in XCOM seems to a roll of the dice. Until we get unlucky, I promise to do my utmost to make sure we both see it. Together.”

Then she tilted her head to the side, ponderous and mischievous both. “...But only if you promise me something in return.”

“What’s that?”

“Stop being depressed.”

He gave her a look he reserved for displays of severe naivety, the one weapon in his arsenal that could legitimately still discourage her. “That’s not how depression works, Nat. It’s... chemical, and psychological. The right medication helps along with therapy, but ADVENT’s got a monopoly on antidepressants and our only psychiatrist shot himself.” He paused as he realized what let slip so matter-of-factly. “Damn, that apparently just happened when I went onboard, a month before the Commander was rescued. Explains why everyone seemed extra miserable.”

Her hood dropped, dissatisfied. She didn’t like his response, but there still didn’t seem like an easy fix to his ‘depression.’ “Alright, then you will promise two easier somethings for me.”

“Fine. The first?”

“You can promise me to smile right now.”

“One fake smile, coming up.”

The smile seemed convincing, but Natasatch wasn’t yet able to know for sure. His expression looked touched by mirth and misery both, the former only overcoming the latter when the soft guitar tune in the background switch to a track with a higher, variable tempo. Natasatch heard it before, trying to recall its name. Flamenco? Yes, Malcolm enjoyed this style. She did as well, noticing her tail-tip start to sway in time to the drum beat.

“What’s the second promise, Nat?”

A tongue shot out to her plate, bringing the entirety of the ADVENT steak into her mouth, followed by another shot stealing away the remaining half of Malcolm’s meal. Her human had reflexively pulled his hand away from the surprise, but the incredulous, amused, yet not annoyed face he made sparked a familiar feeling of contentment in her.

Without addressing the theft, she asked, “You fulfilled the second. Now, will you be more honest with your feelings from now on?”

“You know what?” Malcolm pushed his chair back, using his uninjured arm to help him rise. He caught sight of the Viper’s tail waggling to the beat, and his own hand began to tap on the table in unison. He stretched slightly, closing his eyes and focusing on the tune. It was just the two of them and their music. “Honestly, I feel...”

The smile Natasatch saw couldn’t possibly be faked.

“...I feel like dancing! Let’s go!” Malcolm announced, clasping his hands over hers and tugging.

Natasatch had no response for this direction of her human’s spontaneity. "Wait, Maaaaaal-!"

But he was already in motion, and was pulling her along to the open space in front of the jukebox. Well, he tried to, anyway. Malcolm’s stretching stood no chance against half an hour of sitting, and his leading step was onto his injured leg to boot, so he would have quickly danced his face into the floor if his Viper hadn't been there to pull him back upright. He continued, undeterred, moving and swaying while Natasatch awkwardly fell into complimentary motions.

Obviously the painkillers haven’t worn off. She nearly shrieked, “This is a terrible idea! You need rest!”

“Terrible ideas will save the world. You said so yourself!” He replied, thankfully using his uninjured foot to stamp along to the rhythm.

“I said no such thing!”

“Pretty sure you did. Now, move! You have two feet, use them!”

The Viper was too busy floundering to counter his joke. Her face ran hot, but she thankfully remembered nobody was there to see her struggle. Yet, dancing was an action she possessed zero experience in. She gripped Malcolm’s hands tighter as she swerved, somehow bumping into two tables simultaneously. “How?!”

“Fake it until you make it. Works every time!”

Natasatch gave up trying to copy the human’s motions, instead just going with the physical curve of her body. Oddly enough, the less she focused on imitation, the more natural the motions felt. Her random tail lifts and sways eventually evened out, progressing along with the beat of the song. The unconscious movement of her tail played itself over the whole of her body. When she got a glimpse of Malcolm, bruised and bandaged and trying to ignore the fact, she saw his face content but eyes closed, the moistness at their edges returned.

At that, a peacefulness came over Natasatch. She could close her eyes, and not worry that Malcolm would crush her tail underfoot, that or a series of bullets would burst through the shuttered windows. Here she was, enjoying a song she was never meant to listen to, swaying to a dance she was never intended to, holding onto a human she should have never spoken to. The unique combination of closeness and color and music and warmth gave her a sensation that she never felt before, nor knew how to describe.

Everything else felt secondary, after that. The music continued but felt mostly ignored, the furniture melted away, and even the inevitable stumble on the tail was corrected with a low scoop and dip. The two might have danced their way outside, but she couldn’t quite tell. She only noticed the warmth of their contact contrasted by the sudden coolness of the air.

When there was no more music left between the two, the Viper slowly opened her eyes. All she could see was Malcolm, hands still grasping hers, standing bathed in moonlight against a black background. Genuinely happy, and certainly exhausted. Natasatch couldn’t help but smile when he awakened to her gaze, his deep copper meeting her deep red.

He spoke something, but she couldn’t hear it, because she finally noticed her ears were filled already. A low droning she had practically ignored gradually increased in volume until she could recognize it as a lift engine, and it kept booming as she finally noticed movement above and to her left. She looked up, seeing a blinding light in one half of her vision and the rear portion of Firebrand’s dropship in the other. Looking around, she saw the darkened buildings of Safari that the searchlight blinded her to, and the few denizens stuck between gawking at the two dancers and the squad of XCOM soldiers rappelling down from the aircraft.

They were equipped in their glittering plated armor as if an ADVENT fortress was next on their hit list, but fortunately their boxy magnetic weapons were pointed everywhere but the two. Their comrades were obviously past taking any chances. Natasatch and Malcolm quickly and awkwardly broke their security cling, as Central himself lowered his retrofitted combat rifle and stepped forward, sizing up their numerous injuries.

“Well, Sergeant...s,” Central started, hastily making the rank plural, ”Hmm, no funny quip, Silva?”

Malcolm composed himself. “Honestly Bradford, I’m just glad you’re here.”

“We’re XCOM. We don’t turn our back on our own.”

Natasatch smiled. Finally, their longest day came to an end.

This one scene was the real reason why it took me so long to continue this story. I had to get it just right, and I’m still not sure if I did, but I’m still pretty happy with what it became.

Thank you to @tehangryxeno for proofreading

Link to the Chapter Index

[sarcasticdebate]

after all we’ve endured

Relationship: Emori/John Murphy

Rating: E (... its makeup sex)

Summary: Emori has quickly learned that survival and life on Sanctum are very different than they had been on Earth. It’s good to return to something familiar. Even after so much time. 

[Post 6.03]

“Been a long time since we shared a bed.”

[AO3]

Night on Sanctum isn’t like night on Earth. The sky never quite fades to black like it’s supposed to. Instead it lingers in a deep shade of violet from the effects of two suns. Stars still break through the sky but they’re different from the ones Emori has known all her life. She knows it’s because they are hundreds of thousands of miles from the planet she was born on, but the unfamiliar lights overhead still leave Emori in a state of frightened awe. There’s no north star here, and the possibility of getting lost sits heavy on her mind. 

Some things aren’t so different though, apparently the days are only twenty seven minutes longer than on Earth, and Sanctum’s people have similar nightly routines. By anyone’s standards it’s well past the time to be in bed at this late hour. 

“Hey,” Emori says, shifting her gaze back to John after taking her fill of the view from the open window. “We should go to bed.” 

John’s spent most of the day brooding and Emori can’t blame him, he’d been dead for a couple of minutes this morning. The red in his eyes and the sudden gauntness of his face make it impossible to deny. 

“I’m not tired,” John replies and Emori has to refrain from rolling her eyes. He said that all the time on the Ring, during weeks filled with pacing in anxious circles in the dead of night followed by long days where he would do nothing but lie in bed. Emori has to remind herself that this is different. He’d been dead this morning. 

“I was unconscious most of the day, you’ll remember.” He reminds her too, as if she could forget. She can still feel the claminess of his skin under her palm, feels her heart spike with guilt every time her eyes catch on the bandage across his arm.  She reaches out to touch his hand, to confirm he’s warm now. Maybe she’s the one who needs sleep more. 

“Well there’s no point in sitting here in the dark,” she tries. Everyone else has cleared out to the rooms upstairs, and he stopped drinking an hour ago, too lazy to pour for himself. 

John lets his gaze rest on their held hands for a long moment before his eyes rise to meet hers and he offers a tight-lipped smile and stunted nod. 

He grunts as he stands, like someone twice his actual age, and slings his arm heavily over her shoulders as they make their way towards the stairs. 

“Are you still drunk?” 

“I’m not drunk, ‘Mori” John says, lying either to himself or her. Then straightening a bit when he realizes he gave himself away with the use of the nickname. “Maybe a little,” he admits, “I just don’t wanna dream.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offers for the second time that day. Curiosity and worry have been burning inside since he woke up but she won’t push him. 

“Not yet,” he says, an improvement from the previous horrified ‘no’ of the afternoon. They make it up the stairs without any stumbles and trudge to the end of the hallway, all the other rooms already claimed. 

Under normal circumstances Emori would scout out the room given to them by these strangers, but it’s small, with a narrow bed as the only notable furnishing, and she’s just exhausted enough not to care. 

John flops onto the bed in a way that’s unsuitable for someone claiming not to be tired, but Emori knows him better than himself sometimes so she’s not surprised. He kicks off his boots carelessly. 

“Are you gonna stay here tonigh’?” The tiredness is creeping into his voice now. Emori shrugs off her jacket, lets it hang on the doorknob and sets her boots next to John’s. 

“Of course I am. Scooch over.” 

The bed is still narrow as she lies on it, but Emori thinks it is a poor attempt form Sanctum to get them to spend their nights apart. She molds her body to curl next to John’s and they fit. 

“Didn’t know if you would,” John admits to the ceiling, both of his arms still too injured to hold his weight on one side. Confusion rises above Emori’s exhaustion. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

John’s eyes fall closed but Emori doesn’t want to escape from this conversation, from whatever’s eating at him, she knows it will only cause problems. She tugs on his sleeve and his eyes open and turn to look at her. Bloodshot still, but softer too.

“Been a long time since we shared a bed.” 

It has been. Six months of clenching her blanket tight to herself to make up for the loss of familiar body heat as she tried to sleep, then a mess of circumstance and feelings that led to their bodies close but nowhere near touching as they shared a cave with a mass murderer. One hundred and twenty five years have passed since then and Emori would love to make a joke about the century they slept through, but it’s impossible to do so without thinking of Harper and Monty and things not to be joked about. 

“Yeah,” Emori agrees, something tight festering in her chest. It’s been even longer since she held him like this in their bed and he doesn’t smell like she remembers. It makes her sad. 

She tilts her head up to look at him and sees so many different layers of pain pile on his face, like snow collecting on a drift that won’t ever melt. He’s drunk and lost and Emori feels the same as how she had too many times in space, totally unknowing what to do. 

But John still has ways of surprising her. 

“You know I’m sorry for pushing you away. For making you feel…” He drifts off, and maybe that had been part of the problem, of him not knowing what she was feeling, and her not telling him. But he meets her eyes for the first time since they’d lied down and true regret lingers in his irises. “I never, never wanted that ‘Mori.”

Her first instinct is to say, ‘I know,’ but that’s not true. She hadn’t known. 

“I didn’t want it either,” she says instead, the truth, despite the words standing opposite to both their broken hearts. But Emori knows how to fix them. “I forgive you. I already have.” She doesn’t think about if it’s too easily done, if it’s just because the Earth blew up or because he died this morning. It’s what she feels, and she won’t deny it. 

He hugs her closer, rests his forehead against the curve of her skull. “I love you.”

“I love you.” 

His breathing evens into a familiar tempo and she relaxes into his body, into the soft bed. But John’s not quite asleep yet. 

“You’re hair smells nice.” 

She laughs lightly, her hand coming to rest on top of his. 

She imagines the buzzing of a swarm in her ears before she falls asleep. 

Emori wakes slowly, in opposition to her normal habit. She hasn’t a notion of what time it is. Dawn on Sanctum is brighter than on Earth, more akin to midday. 

If she dreamed during the night she remembers nothing, but there’s a warmth in her stomach rising through her chest and settling her mind. Probably from the place John’s palm rests. 

“You awake?” John asks, turning his head so his voice drips against the shell of her ear. She hums in response. 

“You hungover?” 

“Nah,” he says, shifts a little to hug her closer, his fingertips playing with the hem of her t-shirt. “My mouth’s a little fuzzy, though.” 

“I can get you some water?” 

“No,” he says, like a child might, except there’s a thick edge to the syllable that tightens in her belly the same way the palm of his hand does to keep her close. 

Her eyes close again but she’s very awake now, she settles back fully into the bed and her stillness lets her feel her heartbeat in her chest and throat. John’s fingers are beneath her shirt now, on that soft, sometimes ticklish part of her belly. It feels so nice, and she finally no longer feels clouded and confused with emotion. 

It makes it easy to turn over and kiss him. Not soft and lingering like she maybe should have made it, but making him gasp, pressing and seeking with her tongue. 

And it's not that she missed him really. He was always there, just around the corner, hiding under the parts of him she resented, or mirrored in the eyes of the others when the seat next to hers was empty at dinner. She had missed this though. His hands and lips on her neck and chest. Had dreamed about it a few times and woken up frustrated and angry with herself. 

And it hadn't even been about the sex really, but the intimacy. Something that had ended months before they broke up. She craves it now, though. Their bodies being so close a knife couldn't slip between them. Having confidence he loves her without condition. 

She knows that their thinking is still aligned because in that moment he tugs her over his closer by her waist, fingers rucking her shirt up highso that their chests run along each other as they breathe. She threads her fingers around the back of his neck to angle his head as they share kisses, sometimes pressing them into his jaw or beneath his ear, but always returning to his mouth and the low grateful hum that passes from his lips. It might almost be called leisurely if it weren't for his hands at her lower back, keeping her steady so that their hips could stay locked together. 

He’s hard already, not surprising considering the rush of his breath, how she can feel his heartbeat through his skin. Through his clothes even. She throbs, in that place where he isn’t, like her body might be able to latch onto the emptiness. 

His hands are warmer than she remembers them being. She sighs into his mouth, the sound more desperate than she knew a sigh could be.

“You want this?” John asks, his voice the way it used to get when he was in awe of her. Under the waistband of her pants his fingertips caress her skin.   

“Yes,” she says, his shirt mangled in her grip. She thinks about what being back down on Earth had done to her. Thinks about standing next to him and seeing the confident tilt of his mouth and calculating gleam in his eye. How the want had needled in her brain and pounded in her ribcage and clenched between her thighs. And now how it pales in comparison. “I want you,” she says into the corner of his mouth.  

He says her name, the word spilling off his tongue like some secret admission and she kisses him, tongue tracing his bottom lip so she might be able to catch the feeling falling from his lips. 

His hands trace further up her back and she sits ups, rocking her hips against him before peeling her shirt and sports bra off, feeling that old presence of comfort and pride as his eyes trace over her appreciatively. 

It stands in contrast to the way her own hands hesitate at his waist. She’s never been afraid of his scars before; had liked them even, the reminder of his ability to endure. But she’s never been the cause of any of them before.  

“Hey,” he says, rests his palms over her knuckles, “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.” That can’t be quite true because they’re both careful not to stretch his arms too high as his shirt if pulled off. But he smiles when her hands find balance on his shoulders, his own spanning high on her waist and tracing the undersides of her breasts. And he’s still smiling when she leans down to kiss him and she knows he doesn’t resent her. 

Not like he could when she starts rocking against him, shifting a bit until she finds the right drag against his cock. Insistence grows fast in her as she grinds down and her lips trace down his neck to the sharp point of his collarbones. 

John rubs the sensitive place on the very lowest part of her back and then whimpers when her knees tighten on either side of his waist. His hands become frisky, tugging at her belt loops

She’s wet. She’s so wet and he’s barely touched her. She’s aching, a wound that’s healed can still hurt. Her eyelids are trembling in an effort to stay open as his hands skim over her thighs, but she manages to keep watch him touch her until he leans over and breathes hot over that one place on her jugular that makes her shiver. 

His other hand works beneath her, pressing between her shoulder blades and making her arch up to meet his mouth as he sucks a mark onto her collarbone.

Her hands begin to slide up from his hips as he moves lower. Her touch lingers where new scar tissue mars his shoulder. She traces the two circles with her thumb, will do it with her mouth later, his body is so familiar, but the bullet wounds remind her that they’re both different now, both new people. 

His thumbs on her hip bones don’t feel different, though. And neither does his breath on her inner thigh. 

The anticipation mounts in her chest and between her legs, because she knows what he's going to do next. Because she wants it. That variance of pressure on her clit before he slicks a finger inside her has her legs trembling before he even starts. 

“John.” She says his name, a half moan, a reaffirmation of where they are, who they are. 

A sound, from deep in his gut passes his lips to imprint on her skin. His breath is more hurried than she would expect, making her shiver as it ghosts across her. 

He kisses the v of her legs, soft, fleeting, as he urges her legs further apart, and she gasps despite the briefness. She thought she was too wet for slow and gentle, too wired for his touch after a century and six months to be coaxed into anything languid, but John seems to insist on it, his mouth hot and exploratory against her folds reminding her of those days in space when he’d do this for hours. She whimpers. There’s no hesitance after that, just his tongue pressed against her entrance and flicking once before licking up her center. Then he laps at her clit, light, like she knew he would. 

“Yes,” she says, unable to stop her hips from circling against his mouth. His hand finds her hip to keep her steady, and then drags down the outside of her thigh, not venturing between them like she thought. He reaches for her hand instead, interlocks their fingers even if they don’t fit in any traditional way. She holds on tight to him. 

He places a kiss where her nerves are singing and she feels the burst of pleasure it creates squirming up her spine. A choked sound falls from her lips and her eyes open halfway to see him perched between her legs, and of course he’s looking up at her. But he’s not looking at her with that focus or determination she found so attractive. Instead it’s a caring most people don’t know he has. He just loves her. 

Her eyes squeeze shut as her jaw works uselessly, her precipe suddenly so much closer. He doesn’t go any faster, just presses a little harder, tongue lapping at her clit, circling her hip bone with her thumb, and then she’s there. She cries out, her skin abuzz with pleasure and her entire body feeling both heavy and light as she clenches around nothing, muscles in her thighs tightening as they seek to press together and open wider all at once.

Words rise and die in her throat as her legs shake before a comfort begins to grow next to her heart. John’s hand is still in hers. His thumb stroking over her knuckles is what recenters her.

“I love you,” she says between pants, because she doesn’t think he’ll say it first, and she wants to hear it. “I love you.”

He steals her breath with another kiss, words mumbled against her lips, but the shape of them familiar. “I love you,” he says with his hungry mouth, arms snaked around her back. 

She clings to him for a moment, still feeling dazed and a little lovesick. It’s a good position to run her hands through his hair the way he likes, and an even better one to wrangle him onto his back in before pressing kisses to the side of his neck. 

“Emori. Emori, can we…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she breathes into his skin, reaching down to find him still hard against the slide of her palm. 

Her lips press a sort-of kiss against his forehead as she shifts up, bracing herself more firmly on her knees before sinking onto him a soft keen torn from her throat with the motion. John’s thumb strokes her cheek, his mouth open and breath hot against her chin as she starts to move against him like a wave, steady and rolling, hard and crashing at the end. The length of him in her comforts her in a way she hadn’t anticipated, enticing the burn in her belly and in her heart both. 

“Fuck, Emori, I-” John groans, his hands skittering from her waist to her ass to her thighs, nails scratching lightly, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. It makes her shudder, clench around him. “God, I’m not gonna last long. Fuck.” 

His eyes close the next time she rolls her hips down, as if to prove her point. Emori moves a bit faster, tries to match the rhythm of his uneven thrusts, caught in her desire to study the vulnerability he displays right before he comes. It makes her feel warm all over, his trust, his love. She traces his jaw with her big hand, and the muscles in his throat twitch before he groans and breaks, his arms wrapping her in an embrace as she feels him warm and slick deep inside her. 

She rocks shallowly against him twice more before slipping off his lap and tucking herself into his open arms. 

“You’re amazing, really,” John says into her hair with his little satisfied smirk. The praise sparks hot in her chest as she presses closer to his heat. 

There is little innocence and not a small amount of hunger in the way his hands continue to pass over her body, and Emori is more than considering responding to the touches but she wants to linger for a moment. One where she doesn’t have to think about anything other than the way John is looking at her and the peculiarity of mornings on this moon.