#He's not someone who just rolls over and takes whats thrown at him. He establishes this very early on

[sepiamestus]

It always rubs me the wrong way when people characterize atsushi as too much of a sweetheart. Like he IS a sweetheart but he's also snarky and sarcastic and most importantly he's very very angry. Do not forget this.

[coralinnii]

Hello to you! I was wondering if you were taking requests. I just had a prompt I thought you might like! Any characters you'd like, with an s/o who can and will get violent easily if someone disrespects the love of their life? Like someone calls cater fake and suddenly a chairs getting thrown at their head. I'm sorry for asking, I just thought this was funny :)

❋ Feral!MC who defends their man ❋ feat: Epel ⭑ Ace ⭑ Cater ⭑ Malleus genre: fluff, humour note: gn!reader, no pronouns used with reader, established relationships, reader is implied to be magicless, depictions of physical fighting and violence (punching, kicking, etc),

So, I usually just randomly pick a set of 4 characters but this worked out so well it was hilarious.

All his life, Epel feels underestimated due to his fragile-looking appearance and stature. He spent his early adolescence running amok to prove himself a man but since meeting Vil, he’s learning to hold himself back. 

But that doesn’t mean his situation has changed. There will always be one or two schoolmates that continue to demean him for his looks. 

“You Pomefiore wimps are all the same. What, too afraid to get your makeup ruined?” 

Oh, there is nothing Epel wants more than to give these jerks a piece of his mind, but nothing these guys can say would compare to what Vil would do if he starts a fight here so he chose to turn his cheek on their superficial comments. 

Sadly, the offenders did not appreciate that as they started to grow red over being ignored and started raising their magic pens when… 

“Ooff!” One of the grunts fell to his knees clutching his lower half, revealing you standing behind him with a look that could scare the campus ghosts.  

“The hell is manly about picking on someone minding his own business?!” You seethed in fury as you glared at the wounded student and his friend helping him. “Epel has more manly qualities in his pinky than you do in your whole body, including that sad manhood” You sneered at the term, barely believing one could call any part of them “man”. 

You stepped closer to the two male students, one of them covering his already injured equipment. With an air of barely contained wrath, you stomped your foot extremely close in front of the fallen student, right between his legs “Leave before I make sure that you two will be walking weird for the whole school year” Your eyes glinted with not a threat, but a promise. 

With the two bullies running off, you looked to Epel. Gone was the fury in your eyes but rather concern. 

He really shouldn’t be, but darn it if he wasn’t proud of you. He wanted to praise you so much for how amazing you were. He knows now that violence is not the best option but it sure makes you look cool.

If he were his younger self, he’d have been embarrassed that someone fought his battles for him but he knew you do it out of love and never because you didn’t think he couldn’t defend himself. He’s learning new forms of power, and your willingness to fight for him was another side to strength he didn’t have growing up. 

Epel swore to continue growing up, to appreciate the strengths he found such as you, and to someday be strong enough to protect you forever.

“We can’t let Vil hear about this, but that was super cool! Ya sure spook ‘em good!” 

Ace is a cheeky bast*rd. Sure, he knows when he should shut up but when push comes to shove, he’s not afraid to say how he really feels and doesn’t care how he can come across to others. Due to that attitude, he has made a few enemies that don't appreciate his words and like him, aren't afraid to tell him that. 

“Who are you to say that about us? Acting like you’re better than us, get off that high horse of yours!” 

Ace rolled his eyes over the student’s weak insult but did nothing. Something like this isn’t worth getting hurt over. The redhead was about to put on his fakest smile and ready to satiate the poor kid’s ego but suddenly a blurry figure breezed past him and straight at the student who started this commotion. 

And the sound of something solid hitting flesh rang through the hallways

Loud gasps and curious whispers filled in as students saw that you landed a straight punch on the other student, who’s sitting stunned on the floor.

“If you didn’t do stupid sh*t, then maybe Ace doesn't have to call you out on it!” 

Boy is smug af over you getting all feral and defending him like that. Watching someone he likes fight for him and getting angry on his behalf tickles his heart. How many guys can say his lover would beat someone up for him? Ace felt shivers down his spine seeing you all fiery and angry for his sake, yelling at the dumbfounded student how Ace doesn’t have to be nice to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. 

“And at least Ace has a brain to think before doing something stupid unlike you morons! Talk sh*t, get hit!” Seeing you angrily compliment him is strangely attractive to the Heartslabyul freshman that he rather push to the back of his mind to ponder at a later date. 

As your voice got louder as your fury burned, which Ace feared might catch the attention of a teacher or worse, his housewarden. 

Always quick on his feet both metaphorically and physically, Ace used the chaotic situation to run in between the crowd and escape his enemies before a teacher ended up showing up just as he predicted. When the coast is clear, Ace will definitely tease you on your little feral child moment.

Great job, you really stroked this kid's ego 

“You sure got scary all for lil ol’ me~ You love me that much, huh?”

Cater knows how some people see him, what they say about him but he doesn’t care since in the end he doesn’t affect him that much. Words from a couple of rando people means little to him. 

It was an uneventful day, when he heard a couple of classmates whisper behind his back, words like “fake” and “clout-chaser” made purposely clear for anyone, including him, to hear. 

“Talk about vibe killers” The laid-back senior thought, a sting of annoyance managing to build in his heart. It doesn’t crush him but still, having someone insult you never feels good. 

He was planning to take the high road, pretend not to hear them and walk away when he heard a commotion from that direction. When Cater turned around, he nearly dropped his phone when he saw you…with your hands in a vice grip on one of the jeering student’s hair. 

“Say that again, I dare you!” You screamed as you looked ready to turn the poor boy bald. “Show off that loser behavior so everyone can see!” 

The student in your grasp was helpless and not even his friend could help him because any attempt made to you only made you tighten your grip on his locks. 

“You don't know anything about Cater, how can you call him fake?! He’s considerate and always makes sure not to make anyone uncomfortable, unlike you motherfu-“

You couldn’t finish your sentence as smoke started filling the space, which sent everyone in the vicinity in a state of chaos thinking a fire had started. Surprised, you released the fool in your grasp and in that moment you felt someone pull you away from the smoky mess. In your angry confusion, you nearly restarted your assault when you recognized the familiar light ginger locks and charming green eyes through the fading smoke. It was Cater that pulled you away from the crowd before a teacher finally showed up and cleared the smoke spell he casted.

You nearly gave Cater a heart attack. The last thing he wants is for you to get in trouble or worse, have a target on your back due to your fiery temper. Secretly, he felt a sense of guilty pleasure knowing how fired up you get for someone like him, plus that wild side of you is scarily appealing to him. 

Even if he prefers to hide things with a smile, he worries for your safety more than anything. He has a plethora of ways to get himself out of a bad situation so he hopes you could trust him a bit more.

He might not be able to stop you from getting into fights for his sake, but at least let him protect you when you do

“Hoo boy, that was a close one! You gotta trust me a little more, you know?~”

When Malleus saw you walking back to your dorm one late night, thunderous clouds quickly formed as he noticed bruising on your face and hands, obviously from a scuffle. 

“Who is responsible for this?” Malleus spoke calmly but the dangerous strikes of lightning raining down in the far distance spoke volumes of his true emotions. 

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to downplay your injuries as you explained that you got into a fight with a couple of students earlier that day. Malleus was curious but you looked tired and decided to let you rest for that night

Malleus heard later from Lilia that you suddenly tackled a bunch of students when you overheard them speaking ill of the dragon fae, saying how he only earned his housewarden title purely because of his powers and not due to skills or competence. 

Ok, let’s make it clear. Anybody who dares to insult Malleus definitely has a death wish, with the exception of Leona. Being one of the most powerful mages of his time and having a loyal group of guards that isn’t afraid to take someone down, anyone with survival instincts would think twice before talking sh*t about the heir of Briar Village. 

But this is true everywhere, there is always that tiny group of people that dare to speak nonsense, acting as though their actions won’t have consequences. 

Hah, they thought. 

The students who witnessed the fight recalled the sheer rage exuding from you as you continued to pummel on the target of your wrath. You were finally pulled away by a teacher and was sent to Crowley's office, which explained your late return. 

“They don’t know anything! They don’t see how hard you’re trying to understand humans for the future of fae-human relations. The lessons and training you do to someday lead your kingdom, they know none of it. None at all!” 

Malleus has Silver and especially Sebek who would yell at anyone that would even dare to breathe weirdly in Malleus’ presence, so naturally hearing that a fight broke out because someone supposedly disrespected him is a common story for him. But this was the first time he heard it was you who started the fight in his honor. 

He brushed against your cheek, where your bruise was before he quickly healed it. He wondered if humans were all reckless when in love like you were. He should reprimand you, tell you that such violence is unnecessary as petty hate is nothing to him.

Although, supposed if he were in your position, he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t do the same, perhaps even worse. Afterall, you were his precious treasure. 

This man won’t care who started the fight, he’s smiting anyone for trying to harm you in any way (A red flag but a confusing one) 

“I would prefer you avoid such conflicts in the future, my dear. Not for your sake, but for theirs if I learn of the fools who dare lay a hand on you”

[grimesgirll]

your old roommate was a huge stoner.

she was always rolling up and you were always welcome to join, so sometimes you did.

unfortunately, weed was not a priority in the apocalypse, much less something that could even be sourced. you didn't think much of it. there were greater things to worry about like surviving than getting high.

but that doesn't mean you don't jump at the chance to spark up with daryl after he finds someone's forlorn stash in the crumbling chimney of an untended house - which was one way to hotbox a place. of course, you two have to hide your score from your resident sheriff who you didn't imagine was all too keen on "drugs" - after all, it was the ricktatorship back then.

daryl had squirreled you away to a remote bridge underpass close to where your group was establishing camp for the weekend, undead and all other factors allowing. with the alibi of a sunset deer hunt and the materials for a homemade gravity bong hidden in your backpack, the evening was yours to get ripped.

you weren't as close with daryl back then. that smoke break with him actually pressed a lot of buttons you never knew you had. you even peeled back some layers, something daryl was reluctant to do then, even with you.

whoever had stashed their weed in the chimney'd left over an ounce in there, so you and daryl made that shit last.

suddenly you both were volunteering for earlier watch shifts so you could have a joint every now and then afterwards. it wasn't until rick ripped open the door of the abandoned ice cream shop you two were blazing up in that you knew anyone was onto you.

"can't sneak around a fucking cop," daryl muttered the next day.

rick had immediately asked what was wrong with the two of you; how in the hell could you let yourselves get carried away like that? let your guard down? you could've been swarmed at any moment!

you felt like a kid getting lectured, and daryl did too when despite him assuring your leader, "it's just a way to relax, man," rick just kept going.

looking back, you're pretty sure that half of the problem was jealousy. stumbling upon daryl and you alone and blissed out halfway to the moon must've ground his gears.

so yeah, rick grimes may not be a cannabis enthusiast at first. from then on, it’s a delicate dance of dodging rick. this is only after you stumble upon more weed because the asshole had “confiscated” the baggie and dumped the gravity bong.

daryl is fuming but you know that what’s done is done. it’s the cop in rick. the same man who gives you all the riot act on how you need to shape the fuck up and how he never needs to catch you two doing that again, as he walks you back to camp. you just nod your head and keep your mouth shut. you guys will find a way around it anyway.

and you do.

in overgrown courtyards, on half rotted benches, creaky porches, in old automobiles, remote wings of the prison, on “walks” and “hunts.”

and it isn’t long before you and daryl are sneaking out of bed, leaving a sleeping rick while you finish off an old backwood daryl had saved. the balcony off of the bedroom in alexandria is the perfect place to enjoy yourselves after a long day.

you’re sat on the cushioned patio chair; daryl stands and torches the half finished backwood. as per usual, he offers you the first hit which you eagerly accept. alexandria’s quaint nocturnal stillness is all the motivation you need to silence the cough welling up in your chest. you pass the blunt back to daryl who cups his hands as he lights the end again, protecting the vanilla tobacco flavored end from the elements.

another hit and your mind is focused on daryl. the glint his blue eyes were catching from the moonlight, how the black button up he’d thrown on as you slipped out fits him, how he looked taking a long, rewarding drag before passing it back to you to indulge for a third time.

by this point, you’re higher than the ISS. so faded that you don’t hear the glass door sliding open. you register rick by the low whistle. your insides turn to molten lava. this isn’t the first point you’ve been caught smoking with daryl and it won’t be the last but god, did rick sneak up on you two. scared the shit out of you when you were stoned. rick grimes instilled paranoia was not fun while under the influence.

“you know there are other ways to relax, right?”

daryl scoffs. “when we’re done, man.”

“she looks like she’s all done for the night.”

speak for yourself, you wanna snap at him but you’re too high. you just exhale, rising and standing next to daryl along the railing. the man wordlessly offers another hit. you offer a breathy ‘thank you’ and put the thick blunt between your lips.

you don’t miss the way rick is paying attention to you - now from the patio chair. not missing a moment as you inhale, and after a second or two, exhale. a spot enters your field of vision and you pass the battered backwood back to daryl. it’s not long before you’re feeling the weight of that weed like a whale and backing towards the chair where rick is waiting to draw you into his lap.

he doesn't partake but that doesn't stop him from partaking in you when you're stoned.

you're always fun but there's something about the way your eyes glaze over and you're suddenly in his lap on the chair, pulling at his hair and kissing lazily.

he loves you all giggly and handsy.

“you gonna be a good girl now?” he questions.

you raise an eyebrow. “what did i do?” he gestures to daryl, who is happily bringing the backwood to a close. you shake your head.

“once a cop, always a cop.”

rick snorts. “hope you don’t get weed dick.”

“you wish.”

bored by their banter, you bring your lips to rick’s, not hesitating to open your mouth more for him to snake his tongue in. the ache between your thighs bumps against rick’s bulge; you two simultaneously groan so loud daryl is telling you to hush.

“pants down.” rick orders.

you shimmy your loose pajama pants on. they were perfect to pull on and off. you hang them on the side of the chair.

the sheriff starts shifting a finger between your leaking folds while daryl disposes of the blunt. you bite back a whimper when his long finger twists inside of you.

from then on it’s a grueling rhythm. one you were feverishly responding to. he doesn’t let up - just fingers you until you’re gushing around his fingers. when he decides he would rather have you gush on his cock than all over his lap, he shuffles down his sleep pants, just in time for daryl to observe as you settle over rick’s impossible dick.

“you know there are other ways to relax, right?” you mock as you sink down onto his length.

the ex-cop rasps, hands anchoring to your waist while you buck your hips so your clit gets in on the fun too. you gyrate and roll your hips unforgivingly; rick just huffs and pants, forehead lined with sweat.

daryl twitches in his pants. observing rick fuck your tight little pussy is enough to have him pressing against his jeans from the inside out. what he wouldn’t give just to feel you losing your mind clenching around his finger.

you shudder when you feel a finger probing around your crammed entrance.

“daryl!”

“shh, gonna wake up the whole neighborhood, baby.”

“fuck’re you doin’?”

“relax, man.”

“you’re not gonna fit on this chair with the both of us,” rick disclaims, struggling to catch his breath as you clamp down around him.

daryl shakes his head. “not what i’m tryna’ do.”

his sturdy finger pushes through the resistance your pussy and rick’s shaft face him with. he’s managed an inch in when you start whining. you’re burying your head in rick’s shoulder from the sensation.

numbed slightly by the effects of the kush you and daryl’d just enjoyed, pleasure starts to mount inside of you. your core gets that familiar searing feeling. even more so when daryl picks up the pace. the first few inches of muscle require him to work through slowly, but after enough hissing from rick and squirming on your part, you two groan in ecstasy.

you feel daryl’s finger beneath you as you rock on top of rick. you’re struggling for breath. “love having you both inside of me.”

daryl adds another finger.

“love seeing your face all scrunched up, darlin’,” your leader is whispering raggedly into your neck.

“love being filled tight for you guys.” you pant.

“you’re just right, baby,” rick grunts in response.

“so tight. good fucking girl.” daryl praises, eyes lighting up when you maintain eye contact - all fucked out and on your way to an orgasm, daryl is about to ruin his drawers just looking at you.

he speeds up the motions of his fingers, accelerating the thick digits until they’re suddenly immobilized by your contracting cunt. fingers stopped, he uses the other hand to devote some time to your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

“‘bout to come.” the brunette under you is rasping.

you can barely compute. you’re just a ragged mess of breath, skin, warmth, and the stickiness between your thighs and daryl’s fingers from rick’s release. you feel him coat your insides despite keeping up the pace. when he comes out on the other side, he has a cocky grin on his face.

“so you like getting stoned and stuffed?”

a twinge of post-orgasm euphoria washes over your face. you nod, “it’s the best way to relax,” you punctuate with a fevered, sloppy kiss, making room for daryl to join you in a threeway kiss before breaking apart to share a telltale look with rick.

you’re too high for this.

[casuallyawkardd]

Hi dear, how are you?, could you write a imagine where reader offered to be a nanny for mayday and the newest member of the HQ, jess's son, and when Miguel arrives home, he can't take his eyes off reader as she puts the children to bed slept. And I couldn't get out of Miguelito's mind when he wants to put a baby in you, please.

Hello! I am well! Just got some good news in my personal life so even better than usual 🥰 Anywho I think this idea is so cute so let's dive in

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes but mostly PG, not fluent in spanish so plz correct grammar/spelling errors

"What the hell is this?"

Your head whips around to see your husband's figure in the entryway of the apartment. Miguel had just gotten off work, it had been a long day and he was hoping to just spend the rest of his afternoon at home; followed by curling up in bed with his arms wrapped around you. Maybe even do a little more than sleep once the two of you got under the covers.

Instead, he comes home to find you sitting on the floor surrounded by baby blocks and plastic animals. Miguel immediately recognized your little guests. Mayday, who was currently crawling her way over to greet him, and Gerry, Jess's new baby, who you were burping over your shoulder.

You, having ignored Miguel's initial comment, somehow made it to your feet without using your hands, which were occupied with Gerry, taking a few steps in his direction. "Jess and Peter stopped by and said they needed a sitter while they were training," you explain like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Last I checked, they were both married," Miguel's arm scooped up Mayday, who had already crawled halfway up his leg, "Can't MJ or Jess's husband watch them?"

"I don't know, I saw cute babies and said yes," you shrugged simply. The deadpan look Miguel gives you makes you chuckle softly, "C'mon, don't be like that. It's only for a few hours. Besides, it'll give you some practice."

"Practice for what?" You roll your eyes at his stubbornness, planting Gerry on one hip to make room for Mayday on the other, taking both babies to the kitchen for a snack. "....¿Mi amor?"

It took some convincing, but eventually Miguel was aboard the babysitter train. In a way, you felt like it was like you were playing house with him, a few hours of simulated family time. Playing pretend with the little toys Peter had brought with him, bouncing the little ones in your lap and pretending they were flying as you maneuvered them through the air. Something about the domesticity of it was charming to you, watching Miguel trying to fetch Mayday after she had crawled up onto the ceiling. She didn't make it easy for him, but seeing your husband's face shift from annoyed to amused once she fell into his arms warmed your heart.

The four of you were now sitting on the couch. It had gotten late, the two little ones having fallen asleep while watching some random kids movie you had thrown on. You looked between the baby boy in your arms and your husband, who currently had Mayday passed out on his chest.

"This is nice," you say, Miguel glancing at you once you have his attention. It makes you suppress a giggle, knowing he's probably trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake Mayday.

"S'pose it is," he begrudgingly agrees. looking back at the television. "Although, the science in this movie is completely unfounded. I don't think you can bring someone back from the dead with the power of love."

His commentary has you scoffing, "It's about the message, Miguelito, not the science."

"...Well it's a pretty shity message."

"Are you saying you don't think love conquers all?"

"Ye-" the words die on Miguel's tongue when he notices how your eyes narrow and the corners of your mouth turn down, "No? No. I'm not saying that."

Your expression softens, but only slightly, turning your attention to Gerry who's tiny hand is wrapped around your pointer finger. "I love baby hands. They're so chunky and small," you voice your thoughts, absentmindedly pressing down on Gerry's hand with your thumb, "Aww, squishy, little humans."

"Oh, you've got it bad," Miguel chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, "Cómo se dice...oh yeah, baby fever." How do you say...

You shoot him a smirk, sitting a little straighter, "Maybe I do, what about it?"

Something in the way he looks at you shifts, the glimmer of admiration turning into something much darker. The kind of look that makes you hot under the collar, "Maybe I'll have to find the cure."

A knock at the door pulls you from the conversation, face red as if you just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing. There's an internal sigh of relief when you see it's only Jess and Peter coming to pick up the kids. In all honesty, you only half pay attention to the small talk that ensues, your answers simple and brief when they ask how the kids were and if they had gotten dinner.

As the door shuts, the three of you exchanging your final farewells, a familiar arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into your husband's firm chest. His lips tickle your ear, making you jump as a chill goes down your spine.

"Let's go to bed, mi amor. I think I know just the thing to make you feel better," he's uncharacteristically playful with his words, adjusting his hold so his hand rests on your stomach. "te verás tan bonita con mi bebé dentro de ti." You'll look so pretty with my baby inside you.

Tags:

@prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.1k

Part 1 ←→ Part 3

Masterlist

You and Rafe had spent the better part of the week getting to know each other. He would come to bar after work, pester you to leave until you caved, then you’d find yourself on some sort of adventure whether it was sneaking onto the beach after hours or just watching a movie in his apartment. There was no denying you were attracted to him but at least you both had established some sort of friendship. You had actually come to enjoy his company and you assumed he enjoyed yours too. Even Mila and Randy had come to enjoy him, liking how he brought out the leisure side of you. Considering all you ever do was work. They liked that you finally found someone that could pull you away to enjoy yourself. Too bad it wasn’t real.

That’s why when he shows up to the bar at seven o’clock on the dot as always, it takes no persuading from you to grab your bag and join him on the other side of the bar. His hand slides easily into your own, smirk worn proudly on his face, and you almost hate how simple all of this is. How he has become such a natural part of your routine in only a short time. It makes you realize how much harder this will be when it has to end. So you push away the feeling of despair, ignore the confused looks from customers, and tell yourself to worry about this another day.

“Have anything in mind for tonight?” Rafe leans down to whisper in your ear over the loud music in the bar. You try to ignore the shiver that crawls down your spine as you look at him.

“Not particularly” and this response paints a devious smirk across his features as he leads you out and to the same truck he’s been helping you into all week.

“Good because I have an idea” he grins at you once in the drivers seat and the minute he turns out of the parking lot you have a pretty good idea on where he was taking you.

It’s not a far drive to the beach which is where you realize he is taking you. The moon is almost full tonight, illuminating the black water in a white glow. You’ve discovered Rafe has a soft spot for the beach, you have an inclination it has something to do with his childhood. Yet you never bother to ask and follow him onto the dark beach instead to provide some company for him. You realize he was even prepared for this as he lays the blanket on the soft sand and helps you down to the ground. It’s when he joins your side you decide to speak up.

“Felt like the beach tonight huh?” you smile at him and Rafe’s eyes cast over you, so dark in the night but glimmering with admiration. Friendly admiration.

“Sometimes I forget how much I miss it. Before being this important person I was once just a kid who spent every day itching to get out on the water and surf” you see the pain in his eyes, the confusion, and if you were closer you’d know what to do to comfort him. Sadly he was still just a stranger, someone you had known for a week.

“We can surf sometime, I’m not very good but I enjoy it nonetheless” you tell him and what you don’t expect is the smile that cracks across his face.

“You’d go surfing for me?” you roll your eyes at his teasing tone but smile at him anyway.

“Sure you big dope” you tell him and he smiles before leaning back to lay in the sand. The stars reflect in his eyes and you find yourself imagining a life where Rafe could like a girl like you for real, to look at you with those same stars in his eyes, and choose you above anyone else. In fact, you wished there was any world that was possible.

“It’s crazy how fast you can go from caring about the things you like to what others think of you” the words he utters holds weight he doesn’t understand. You assume for the both of you. Rafe went from caring about things like surfing to pleasing others, the same way you went from enjoying life to hating what you had been dealt. Hating what you looked like and the outcome of that. Trying so desperately to change, to lose the weight, and in the end know that maybe you’d never trust someone for liking you as skinny if they never knew you when you were fat. It would always be there in the back of your mind, wondering if they’d have been here if you stayed the same.

“If it helps I think everyone does. You lose those little kid goggles and get thrown into the real world. Hence why middle school is so scary” you tell him, laying beside him and praying he doesn’t notice the way your breasts expand across your chest, the way your chin doubles due to the position change, and how your stomach sways to whatever side you lean towards. It’s the position that had those boys making beached whale jokes, is this position that makes you vulnerable and unattractive to most.

“I want to be carefree again. I forgot what it was like to live my life for myself and not others” he tells you and you nod, eyes scanning over the big dipper in the sky, the waves slowly crashing in your ears.

“We can do that too you know, this agreement between us doesn’t have to be just dating. We can help each other enjoy life again” you don’t know why you suggest it. You’re already nervous about the agreement you have going on, the last thing you need is another clause. There’s just something about Rafe Cameron that can’t keep you away.

“I’d like that, which brings me to my next thing” you turn your head to face him, eyebrows furrowing at his sentence.

“Next thing?” you question and his head rolls to face your own, palms resting across his stomach.

“I have a work event tomorrow night, I was hoping you’d attend” this has you sitting back up, heart rate accelerating at the thought of this finally becoming public. Had a week been enough for you to be convincing? After all your friends were convinced, Mila ecstatic for you. This was Rafe’s work friends, professional people.

“Wow, um yeah” Rafe sits up beside you, hand falling to your shoulder.

“I know it’s soon, I didn’t think it was a date event until today. I figured I should probably bring my fake girlfriend” you nod and he can see the nervousness in your eyes but just like the first time you both met he sees that fierce strength behind them. The will to not let anyone undermine your power.

“I’ll go, just tell me a time and dress code” you find yourself saying and he smiles which you return until that hand on your shoulder is running behind your hair and pushing it from your face.

“I was thinking we should kiss” this has you gaping like a fish, brain actually malfunctioning over his words.

“Kiss?” he doesn’t miss the fear that floods your features and he vaguely wonders what kind of emotional damage a person would have to have to react like this over a kiss. Something he had done a hundred times but has an inkling you’ve only done a few.

“Yeah, I know you said not a lot of PDA but I’m a touchy person. Those guys know that and I figure if I show up with a date I’m not affectionate towards they’ll catch on” you let his words settle in, try to let them ease your comforts. He watches you swallow away your nerves before adding on. “I figured our first kiss will be better to have in private then there”

“So a practice run?” you ask and he knows this is you trying to convince yourself of this, that something as simple as a kiss couldn’t be real.

“Yeah, work out all the kinks and stuff” and this has you snorting in laughter which makes him happy to know he’s lessened the pressure on you.

“Yeah, so hopefully we don’t smash noses or something” you tease back with a laugh but the laugh is cut short when his hand presses against your jaw, fingers curling behind your neck. You suck in a sharp breath as you prepare for what he’s about to do. You’re repeating over and over in your head this isn’t real but when his thumb slowly brushes across your bottom lip you find it to be useless. Rafe has bewitched you in every way a man can to a simple girl like you. Which means you’ve already broken the contract, a rule you made. A rule you’ll never admit to breaking in just a week.

“Ready?” and he knows you can’t answer but over the week he has also gotten to know you and if you didn’t want this you would say it.

So he leans forward, watches how your eyes flutter close and for a moment admires how God damn pretty you are before reaching his face to your own. You shudder against him when his lips just barely brush yours and his hot breath fanning across your face has your stomach doing somersaults. Finally he closes the gap, lips closing around your bottom lip before opening and moving in sync with your own. You desperately want to grab onto him but this isn’t real. It’s practice. So after a few beats and the most mind numbing kiss of your life he pulls away with a soft smile and you vaguely wonder how he looks so calm when he just kissed you stupid.

“See, nothing” and your stomach drops, butterflies killed. Rafe turns back to the water, not realizing what he just said had ruined it. You needed to get better at reminding yourself there is nothing to ruin. It was practice, practice that felt all too real and reminded you of exactly why this agreement was dangerous for you. You loved big, not fake.

“If you’re having me come to this dinner thing I do have something to ask” you muster up the nerve to say and he turns his attention back to you, lips a little swollen and eyes glossed over. He looks like a boy who’s just been kissed and for the first time you realize there doesn’t have to be feelings for him to look like that.

“Anything” he tells you earnestly and you stretch your fingers across your legs, feeling a bit silly for asking.

“Could you come to my apartment one of these nights? Mila has been bugging me about how we’re always at your place and never at ours. I figure if we were dating it would make sense for you to come over to mine too” you say and he nods while he takes to thought what you’ve just said.

“Yeah, that’s sounds fine. We could have dinner with Mila a night” he says and you smile to hide the nervousness of him agreeing. This wasn’t nerves for your feelings towards him, this was nerves over your best friend getting close enough to notice this might possibly be fake.

“Thank you” you tell him and he smirks his signature smirk and wraps an arm around your shoulders as his eyes cast back out and over the waves. To the naked eye you look like a real couple, staring gazing on the beach, and in the silence you pretend you are because you can keep yourself from ever telling Rafe how you feel but at least you have this. Pretend, something to hold you over for the rest of your life, because if you never had this for real you surely wouldn’t now.

So tomorrow when you officially start this agreement between you two, you make yourself promise to be prepared for the end. At then end of the day you agreed to prove a point but that wouldn’t take forever. Rafe will soon have to leave and marry the girl of his dreams and the girl you could only wish to be. Tomorrow was practically the end already but at least he was yours in some sense of the word for only a moment. A moment you would cherish forever.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[ruinedlover]

warning; sexual themes ! sub!fem-readerxdom!snow

Coriolanus snow a couple years after everything, he’s now established in high society, no longer living in poverty in the capital. all enemies defeated, nothing to get in his way.

except you, that cheeky friend of tigris’. you were so unique and pretty, you didn’t sing like a song bird, actually you were quite shït at it. though you were an artist, a very, very famous one, a capital gem. the capital adored your innocent, sweet, look, you were soft in every-way but your personality, though even there you were all heart and genuine.

snow knew the real you, the you that actually had a personality, like a district would have. you were snappy and sarcastic, but never mean, soft spoken but when you got excited, god you were loud.

snow only saw this behind closed doors, you were obedient and soft and loved in the image of the capitol. though you had known the family for years, meeting when tigris was still a lost teen, doing things she shouldn’t have had too. you were always kind and giving to the family, as much as they would take. though thats all you were to snow, someone who took pity.

though you never left, you were always a friend, and maybe he was just seeing you for the first time. snow was a business man now he had no time for relationships, or hookups or anything of the sort, no matter the many women thrown at him. he had never lost focus on his work, until he started noticing you more.

“is y/n coming over today?” he asked tigris and she looked at him with a weird expression, a smile on her lips. “the president wants a mural done, one that shows the power of the capital over districts, she’s not responded. he’s asked me to talk to her.”

“you? you barely know her.” tigris reminded and snow looked away for some reason a small grin was creeping onto his face. he knew you a-lot more than tigris assumed.

your legs shake and you can no longer keep them wrapped around Coriolanus, breaking what he told you to do. “c’mon keep your legs up, i thought you wanted me to breed this sloppy cunt, do you want me to stop?” he was saying into your ear, sweat dripping off of him and onto your damp body. his breath touched the sensitive neck he had abused, that he would make you cover up with an out of fashion turtleneck.

“no, please, no..” you would gasp out, you were basically brain dead. his cock thrusting in and out of you harshly for hours, had left you a whiny, overstimulated mess. tears falling out of your eyes that would roll back everytime he purposely thrusted his whole cock in you.

he wasn’t gentle with you, not today. his hand grazed your face as he stared down at your pathetic expression. suddenly he squeezed your cheeks and came closer. “then take it good like i told you to, keep your legs up.” you nodded obediently and frantic as the soft authority in his voice made your thighs twitch. he smiled and kissed you, softer than the ruthless thrusting he was giving your other lips. “such a good girl.” he praised.

your legs once again wrapped around his waist as you whined and sobbed quietly. waiting for him to let another load of his seed out inside of you, to breed you till you were swelling with his baby, securing you as his.

only when you were filled up with his baby would he feel secure enough to publicly claim you. he would never again have a girl run from him, he had to give you a reason to never leave.

“well she’s not coming today, sorry to disappoint, when i see her i’ll make sure she’s gotten the request, how much it would mean to the capitol.” tigris fawned and stopped to look up admiring nothing but the thought, then she turned to Coriolanus, but he was gone.

if she wasn’t coming he would just go to her.

[selfindulgentpixies]

Part one

Okay here's part two for my Suguru x reader fic i did earlier. It's going to evolve into a Satoru x reader x Suguru fic. This one admittedly has ended up feeling very uh meandering I guess? I'm trying to establish the dynamic between the three of them

Important notes: GN!reader, reader is referred to with chan attached to their name, reader is a year younger than Suguru and Satoru. Suguru and Satoru are absolute menaces. Reader's cursed technique is mentioned. Said CT involves absorbing curses through their hands and converting them into weapons though it's not super important to to this chapter.

Fun fact: the japanese school year apparently begins in in april! So this takes place a bit before hidden inventory shortly after Suguru and Satoru start their second year.

Edit: I've made some revisions to this chapter to bring it up to my current standards! Nothing big just things that make it flow better and some extra details.

Chapter 2: Movie night

Things are different after the mission with Geto, he's softer with you than he’d been in the past. Before the mission he'd almost seemed a little resentful of you behind his smile though you couldn't figure out why. It didn't feel like that now. You aren't dumb, you can pinpoint the moment things felt like they'd begun to shift with him. When he'd held your arm after you absorbed that curse, the way his eyes had looked over darkly bruising flesh with the ink black lines crawling up your arm like an infection. When he'd asked if it was always like this you thought you'd find pity in his dark gaze when you raised your eyes to his, instead you saw something you weren't expecting. Understanding.

You were admittedly thrown off balance by this, plastering what you hoped was a reassuring smile on your face as you answered him. You doubted you fooled his keen eyes as you tried to disguise your discomfort but he didn't push you or even ask if it hurt. Probably because he thought the question would be pointless. Only an idiot wouldn't have been able to see you were in pain. Instead he'd gently examined the limb, his fingers sliding over your arm before letting go when he was satisfied.

He'd also begun going out of his way since that day to help you train as well, though you're not sure how much getting tossed around the training field like a rag doll is helping you. You've gotten very good at breaking your falls. You can at least say that. He said you were improving but you're not sure how true that is, though it probably should have tipped you off he was being honest when Gojo who was sitting on the sidelines more often than not to watch didn't interject to say otherwise. Especially since he was more than willing to point out where you had messed up. Perhaps you just hadn't known them long enough to realize that Geto was soft for you and Gojo was becoming so in turn. Again it's kind of hard to realize someone is soft for you when they regularly send you flying like you weigh nothing. Both older boys could appreciate that you kept dusting yourself off and getting right back to it though. 

These last few weeks play back in your mind on repeat. Especially how gently he'd held your arm on that mission and the look in his eyes. You're broken from these thoughts when you notice the three second years making their way back to the dorms, Shoko splitting off from the boys presumably to head toward her own dorm. Probably to get cleaned up after a mission if you had to guess. You watch Geto and Gojo, watch as their hands brush against each other as they walk. They start to lean in close to each other and you watch as Gojo brushes his lips over Geto’s ear. You’ve apparently been caught staring though as suddenly Gojo is unmistakably looking directly at you as you noisily watch the intimate moment playing out between the older boys. Gojo’s sudden shift in attention of course causes Geto to look toward your window as well.

You let out a squeak and instead of maybe rolling with it and just waving or something to make yourself not seem nosy you flail and pull your curtain closed. "Stupid stupid stupid,” you grumble to yourself feeling your ears burn.

Down below you don’t see the two older boys share knowing and amused grins. You’re also far too consumed by your own embarrassment at having been caught staring at their intimate moment to hear their laughter as you internally berate yourself.

You also don't hear the ensuing conversation.

You get maybe a half hour of peace after that, able to mostly stop cringing at yourself and get back to studying. The peace is shattered when there's a knock on your door. You jolt in your seat, taken off guard since you hadn't expected anyone to stop by your room this late in the day. You turn in your chair and give the door a questioning look, unsure if you want to be bothered. Then he speaks. "Oi, ___-chan, come on don't ignore me." It's Gojo. All your embarrassment at being caught staring earlier floods back.

Reluctantly you get up and open your door a little to stare up at the older boy. He's got his arms full of snacks and he's grinning down at you, eyes obscured by those dark glasses he always wears. "I was almost worried you went to bed early. Come on, we don't want to keep the others waiting."

If an expression could be a question mark that's what your face was now. "Who's waiting and why?"

"You'll see it's a surprise~" he sing songs.

"Senpai, I" You're cut off when he adjusts his hold on the snacks and reaches out to grab your arm, tugging you out of your room since you were apparently taking too long to convince.

You flail, taken off balance and your voice involuntarily raises an octave "Gojo-senpai i-i'm not dressed to go anywhere i'm in my pajamas!"

"Pajamas are perfect for this, don't worry about it." He ignores your sputtering and goes to close your door.

"At least let me grab my phone." You huff.

He glances down at you with a triumphant smile knowing he's gotten his way. He opens your door fully and gestures with a flourish for you to go ahead. You contemplate slamming the door behind you but felt wrong being so disrespectful to an upperclassman, especially as your mind so helpfully reminded you of how you'd been caught rudely staring at him and Geto-senpai only half an hour ago.

You follow Gojo closely, having to take three steps for every one of his. "So you're really not gonna tell me?"

"Stop being impatient, you'll literally see the surprise in less than two minutes."

You pout but go quiet.

He wasn't wrong, soon enough you're standing in front of another dorm room. "Suguru, Shoko, I got the snacks and grabbed ___ along the way. "

You blink a little owlishly, realizing the dorm room you're at is likely Geto's. It's neat, at least by teenage boy standards. There's a biggish bean bag couch set up at the end of the bed facing a tv that's been set up with what looks like a shiny new dvd player along with several stacks of dvd's. Shoko and Geto are both by an open window, blowing smoke outside.

Shoko smiles warmly. "Ahh glad you could make it, ___-chan. When they told me they were inviting you too I wasn't sure you'd actually come."

You glance away for a moment and play with the hem of your sleep shirt. "Gojo-senpai was very... insistent." 

Geto laughs lowly. "Satoru always is once he's decided something."

Your eyes are drawn toward the dark haired boy as he stubs out his cigarette and tosses it into the ashtray. He's smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. You can't help but take in how his hair is down and wet, clinging to his neck. It makes your mouth feel dry in a way you're not really familiar with. Gojo nudges you into the room before going to set out the snacks.

For some reason the idea that your three senpai had decided to invite you to their movie night left you feeling intimidated. "Is uh... anyone else gonna show up?" you ask hoping you don't sound nervous. "Nope-” Gojo pops the ‘P’, ”just the four of us," he throws over his shoulder at you as he continues his task. Your stomach swoops a little. At least Shoko is here otherwise you're pretty sure you would have run away. Being alone in such a casual setting with Gojo and Geto would have been overwhelming right now.

You finally move to go sit on the far end of the beanbag couch only to be jerked toward the middle of it by Gojo as he sits on your left, before you can protest or move back Geto sits on the right side of you, effectively trapping you between the two of them unless you wanted to outright get up and find a different spot to sit, though your options would be the literal floor or Geto's bed since Shoko seems to have claimed Geto's desk chair.

Shoko catches you looking her way and she eyes her peers suspiciously. "___, we can switch places if you'd like." She states already starting to stand. You scoot just slightly forward ready to accept only to feel a strong hand pull back on your shoulder and then feel Suguru's arm pressing along the back of your shoulder's once you've been pulled back to sit snugly in the honestly too small bean bag couch with the two long limbed boys.

"Aww they're fine right here aren't you, ___?" Geto asks as he tilts his head at you, a smile curling his lips and pretty brown eyes turning into crescents.

You're pretty sure your brain is as fried as it could ever be in that moment only for it to get even worse when Gojo's arm presses against Geto's and he too somehow manages to get further into your personal space. "Yeah this is the best place to watch movies from," Gojo's breath  fans over your ear and you swear you can feel the barest hint of his lips brush the skin there.

Your face is so hot that you're surprised you haven't burst into flames and your heart is so rabbit quick you’re wondering how it hasn’t burst out of your chest. You’ve never been subjected to attention like this before. Especially not by a pair of pretty boys like your senpai.

Shoko breaks the moment by tossing two precisely aimed pillows into the faces of the two biggest menaces she knows. "If the two of you don't stop that I'll take ___-chan with me and go have a movie night just the two of us." There’s a clear threat in her voice and they know she means it.

Both boys sputter at the pillows in their faces before grumbling. Geto tosses his on the ground while Gojo holds his on his lap with a pout, he then sticks his tongue out at her. "You're no fun."

"And you're going to send ___ running if you keep it up," She shoots back and goes over to the dvd player to pick a movie. Neither Gojo nor Geto had taken the time to put one in, more focused on getting you trapped between them.

After selecting a movie and putting it in she glances back at you. "So would you like to trade seats?" You keep your eyes firmly on her but you can swear you can feel the two boys looking at you. You don't fully trust your voice but squeak out a small reply anyway. "Y-yeah actually." there was no way you were gonna be able to focus on the movie if they kept doing whatever it was they were doing. You feel Geto squeeze your shoulder briefly before letting go and both boys scoot slightly to allow you the minimal space needed to get up from the squishy death trap that is the bean bag couch. Shoko ends up helping you up before plopping herself in between menace one and two who are both definitely pouting.

The desk chair gives you the space needed to get your bearings for the first time since Gojo showed up at your door. Was this all some weird game to get back at you for staring at them from your window? As the movie plays you're sure you can feel them glancing your way but try to ignore it. Ignore it until Gojo tosses a candy bar directly into your lap startling you during a tense scene and making you squeak. When you realize what had touched you was a candy bar and not a serial killer you look over toward the three on the couch to catch Gojo flashing a grin your way. Geto reaches over shoko to playfully shove his shoulder.

Even now in the mostly dark room you can see it's your favorite. Which probably isn't that strange given that you normally eat one after training with Geto, and since one boy was never far from the other Gojo probably just picked up on it. That or it's all coincidence and your nerves from the evening thus far are making you over analyze a chocolate bar.

You're not sure when you dozed off in the uncomfortable chair but when you're woken up it's by Gojo poking you in the cheek and there are credits rolling on screen. He goes to poke your cheek again but you pull back with a slurred " 'm awake..." You blink blearily at the room, trying to get your brain to catch up with the situation. Gojo pokes you again deliberately on the nose this time. Without thinking and with sleepy irritation overriding all good sense you bite at him, surprising you both when you actually manage to catch his finger.

You immediately release his finger that now has a neat little ring of your teeth dented into it.

"You bit me! What the hell!?"

Embarrassed you yell back, "I only bit you because you kept shoving your finger in my face!"

Distantly through your embarrassment you register Geto laughing at the two of you. Honestly more at Gojo than you though you don’t realize that.

"Will you all shut up," an angry lump on the beanbag couch growls out. You realize it's Shoko. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Ah but Shoko, if you want to sleep you can go back to your own room. Satoru and I aren't going to bed for a while yet." Geto's tone is light as he sits up more in bed, drawing your gaze. From what you can gather it seems both he and Gojo must have moved to the bed at some point during the movie.

 It's while you're occupied with this thought that the white haired menace grabs both arms of the chair you're sitting in. You blink. "Wha-" He spins the chair and you let out a little yell. When he finally stops the chair you slide out of it dazed. The world is still spinning a little. "W-what was that for..?"

"For biting me of course."

"Satoru, don't pick on them too much, you were asking for a reaction poking them like that," Geto admonishes him, though even dazed as you are you can hear the amusement in his voice.

There's an annoyed grunt from the beanbag couch and the lump that is Shoko wrapped in a blanket stands up and heads for the door after tossing the blanket over Gojo. "Guess I will go back to my own room if the three of you can't be quiet."

From your spot you wonder what you did to get lumped in with the two of them.

Gojo pulls the blanket off his head and sticks his tongue out at Geto. "Yeah yeah." Standing he grabs your arm unprompted to pull you off the floor and you stumble into him because the world is still spinning a little from how fast he spun the chair.

You push most of the way off his chest in embarrassment though your hands remain to keep you steady as the world slows back down. You look up at him from beneath your lashes with an unintentional pout and mumble out an apology.

"Oh and what are you sorry for?" He tilts his head to the side and it suddenly strikes you that in the mostly dark room he'd removed his glasses. The full force of his pretty eyes focused directly on you. That is until Geto Speaks up. "That's enough teasing, Satoru." He sits up fully in the bed crossing his legs as he turns his full attention to you.

Geto blessedly gives you an out. "___-chan, do you want to stay with us and watch another movie or do you think you're done?" Honestly you think you could hug him for giving you a clear choice. The thought makes your cheeks flush.

"uh... I should probably go back to my room, it's late yeah? I have to be up early to train." Your hands drop from Gojo's chest now that the world has stopped spinning.

The raven haired boy nods. "I'll walk you back to your room then."

"You don't gotta do that, senpai, i don't even have to go outside."

"I know, but I want to." He smiles at you so prettily. 

Geto is bounced on the bed when Gojo flops down on the mattress.

You shift a little looking between the two of them for a moment. "Alright then.." your hand comes up to rub the back of your neck.

With that Geto is out of bed and walking you through the short halls to your room.

"Thanks for inviting me to watch movies with you guys tonight, or was that just Gojo-senpai?"

He hums. "No we both wanted you to join."

"Can I ask why?"

"What do you mean why?" He raises an eyebrow as he peers down at you. "We like your company, that's reason enough." You were skeptical and your expression must have told him as much as he sighs. "Do you think I spend my time between missions and classes training someone whose company I don't like? And do you think Satoru would stick around to add input if he didn't? Our time is too valuable for that."

"O-oh," you utter lamely before swallowing and speaking again. "Well, thank you, Geto-senpai." You weren't exactly used to people wanting your company. Before Jujutsu tech you were often viewed as being strange by your peers.

He messes up your hair. "Ack!" and when you glance up at him even while his hand is still on your head the smile he's giving you makes your heart thunder in your chest.

"You should call me Suguru."

"Isn't that a bit rude though? You're older than me and-"

"It's not rude if I've told you you can."

You're quiet for a moment as you reach your dorm room. He lets you be, giving you time to process your conversation. He leans against the wall by your door. "Well uh.. thank you again Ge- Suguru-senpai. It was nice at least until I fell asleep." You rock back on your heels before opening your bedroom door.

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow then for training?"

You nod eagerly. "Yeah I'll see you then. Goodnight." You give him a little wave.

He bids you goodnight as well and goes to return to his room, likely to watch more movies with Gojo if you had to guess. After carefully closing the door you take a deep breath before throwing yourself onto your bed to squeal into your pillow and flail your legs to get out all your feelings from the night, especially the exchange you'd just had with Suguru.

__

Back in Suguru's room you miss when he sits in the desk chair Gojo had aggressively spun you in earlier and how it breaks dramatically beneath him. What you don’t  miss is Gojo's cackling in the hall and the sounds of thudding footsteps outside your room as Suguru chases him. When you peek out your door into the hall to see what's going on they're already long gone.

AHHHH part 2 is officially finished! I hope everyone enjoys it. This is the longest thing i've written i a long while. Keep an eye out for part 3. Upcoming parts will have spoilers for season 2 and the manga.

Tag list! @icy-spicy @strawberrystepmom @nanamikentoseyebags @gojoest

Please let me know if you like it! I put a lot of work into this so far.

Part 3

[gabessquishytum]

Oohhhh secret omega cowboy hob falling in love with outlaw dream! 

After they spend his heat together, hob’s not letting go of his new outlaw alpha. He’s never had a strict moral code, and outlaw suits hob’s interests pretty well! So soon, hob’s a full-fledged member of the gang—which is sort of like a little family. Dream teaches him to shoot, how to intimidate people into handing over their money, how to run from the sheriff—all the skills his lovely new omega needs. (They also fuck. A lot.)

To dream, there’s nothing better than seeing hob happy and confident, fully accepted by his pack. It’s all going great!

Until a familiar train rolls through. Owned by an old enemy of Dream’s, burgess, who once tried to get dream hanged. And Dream’s pride can’t resist the opportunity to rob that old rich asshole. 

So they force the train to stop and board it. It’s hob’s first train robbery. He’s very excited. 

Cori, Gault, Dream and Hob all board the train. Cori and Gault go for the safes while Dream and Hob rob the passengers of their valuables. But dream is determined to go into burgess’s private compartment.

And this is where everything goes wrong. Burgess has extra security this time and he’s out for dream’s blood. When dream goes for burgess’s private compartment, they’re met with a stream of gunfire. Burgess orders the train to start up again while his men keep dream and hob pinned with gunfire. 

With the loot, Gault jumps to safety while Cori goes back for Dream and Hob, while burgess shouts that dream is going to pay. Dream’s panicked—he needs to get his omega out of here.  

Cori evens the odds and they’re making for the door—when burgess grabs a gun and shoots. Hob makes a split-second choice and leaps in front of dream just in time. Dream screams when he sees hob crumple, red blooming on his side. 

But it’s too late. 

“Go,” Hob shouts. “Leave me.” Dream tries to go back, but Cori catches him around the waist. Already, a guard has hob by the hair, dragging him back, and Cori launches himself and dream off the train. 

Dream is devastated and terrified as the train vanishes into the night, with his mate captured and injured on board. Has his pride ruined everything? Is hob going to pay the price?

YES MORE COWBOY OMEGAVERSE

Burgess is originally raging that Dream has managed to escape him yet again, but once he discovers that Hob is Dream’s mate, he's thrilled. What a perfect opportunity to torture the outlaw!

Hob is bound and gagged (once again, he keeps biting) and stowed in the compartment with Burgess. His gunshot wound is superficial but the bloodloss makes him woozy. What if Dream can't get to him? What will Burgess do to him? What if he goes into heat? Oh god, what if he's pregnant? Well, there's nothing he can do except make Burgess's life hell- so that's what he'll do.

Meanwhile Dream is riding like hell, while Cori and Gault do their best to keep up. There's no way that Dream can catch up with the train, but he'll get to Hob eventually. He even stamps down his pride and sends Gault to the sheriff's office to report the kidnapping. Dream doesn't care about his own safety, he can be captured and hanged for all he cares, as long as someone brings Hob back safely out of Burgess's filthy hands.

All the while, Hob is being the worst captor imaginable. He's kicked, bitten, bled on and even thrown up on Burgess at this point (the last bit was unintentional, but it was satisfying to see the bastard covered in puke). He's been taken off the train to a nasty saloon in some one-horse town, where Burgess essentially attempts to sell him to the highest bidder. But Hob doesn't attract a lot of bids, to be honest (the literal bullet hole in his shoulder is kind of off-putting), but Burgess finally offloads him to the local brothel owner. Honestly he just seems pleased to get Hob off his hands...

Hob keeps quiet and behaves himself as his new "owner" takes him to his establishment. But as soon as he's thrown in with the other omegas, Hob starts plotting his escape. And of course he's got to take the other omegas with him. One of them, named Calliope, helps him steal a gun from a drunk patron. And they decide to wait until dawn to make their escape in the stage coach which will inevitably come rattling through.

As it happens they don't have to take the stage, because Dream comes into town, all guns blazing, after he finally heard about Hob getting sold. Dream and Hob essentially hold up the whole town with Calliope's help. They finally leave with all the guns, money and horses, plus the abused omegas. Hob is finally in Dream’s arms again, and he doesn't intend to leave for a very long time.

Once Hob is fully recovered from his bullet wound, Dream informs him that Burgess was hanged by the orders of the local judge for a slew of crimes. He's disappointed that they didn't get to kill him together, but it's better than nothing! And anyway, they're taking a little break from outlawing for a bit... now Hob IS pregnant, and he wants a little peace and quiet with his mate before their crazy cowboy baby comes along!!

[cybertroniannugget]

Lovers can't be on the same team!

Snowballfight on base pt2

Dec 15

This is what it's like for the humans against any of the bots in a snowball fight

About this fic: Implied romance with OP, GN reader, no yn

Going at it for roughly 20 Minutes, the human fraction of your team asks for a break. After some initial shouting everyone was able to hear you and the snowy war stopped.

" We ain't as durable as you guys.", a blonde soldier named Jonas panted, letting himself fall onto his back into the snow.

"Make a snow angel!", you suggest, the young man complying immediately.

Curiously, the bots gather around to watch the soldier move his extremities in the snow.

Getting up he reveals the shape he created.

"A snow angel.", he proclaims proudly.

In less than a few seconds five of the (count) bots were laying in the snow, trying to imitate Jonas' movements.

Too busy having fun, no one noticed someone else had joined the group, watching contend.

Bumblebee was the first to detect the newcomer, greeting him with a lovely Christmas song

🎶Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.🎶

"Should I ask what this is about?"

Several heads shoot up at the deep voice they've all grown to respect and knew too well.

"We're uh...", Skids attempts on speaking, feeling caught. Mudflap hits him on the head with some snow and the two roll of fighting.

Optimus raises an optic ridge before turning to Dino, who spoke up. "We're indulging in some fun Prime."

"Snow angels, I see."

"What, how do you know what this is?"

He looks over to you and you try to hide your new snowball behind your back.

"They taught me."

"You made snow angels with them?", Ratchet asks in disbelief.

"Yep, we did. It was a fun time. Educating the Prime on earth's culture you know?", you snicker.

Bumblebee was busy hyping everyone up for another round.

🎶Get on your feet, you know you can't resist.🎶

You throw a snowball at Optimus, the comparingly tiny ball hitting a window on his chest.

He takes a lot of snow into his servos, letting it fall onto you.

You shake the cold blanket of snow off, laughing.

"Now that's just unfair!"

"You started it.", he states, fairly proud of himself.

Another snowball hits you on your back, thrown by Jazz.

Optimus bends down to grab some more snow, forming it into a ball and throwing it right at Jazz's chest.

"Hey Prime, you can't be on their team!"

"Why not?", he asks.

"Lovers can't be on the same team! Get over here and help us out.

Optimus looks towards you, while you laugh.

"Yep, it's an established rule."

"Alright."

Jazz throws a fist into the air.

"Prime joined the fight let's gooo!"

🎶Get this party started🎶

[half-bakedboy]

please write established (maybe married) buddie on a call and oblivious buck getting hit on, jealous eddie "excuse me, he is married. to me"

loooove your fics

read on ao3

Eddie's barely paying attention to the patients he and Hen are caring for. They're both fine, really, and were sitting on the sidewalk when the 118 got there so Hen and Eddie went to work while Buck and Chimney dealt with the fire. He's too busy watching Buck fight each car flame with expert efficiency. He's laughing with Chimney, head thrown back as they spray the chemicals with the precision of two firefighters who had a bond like brothers-in-law.

It's times like these where Eddie remembers exactly why he fell in love with Buck. He finds joy in any situation, good or bad, whether it directly impacts him or not. Even the two patients seem amused by his carefree joy, and who is Eddie to blame them? Buck won him over that way.

"Since I'm all checked out, can I go take a closer look at the damage?" his patient asks. She's only got a small laceration on her arm, presumably from a piece of shattered glass, but is otherwise unscathed. She's fine to walk, but he's a little confused about what she thinks might be left.

"Yeah, sure. Buck!" he shouts. Buck turns around immediately, the smile widening on his lips. "She--"

"Beverly," his patient interrupts with her own shout.

"Beverly wants to take a look. You good?"

Buck nods his head and puts the fire extinguisher down onto the pavement. Eddie should notice the way Beverly practically rushes over, somewhere between a skip and a saunter, but he's hyper-aware of how close the end of their shift is.

He's got Abuela cooking dinner at home and three off-days in a row to spend with Buck, their first since they got married a few months ago.

(Eddie wanted to take a honeymoon but Buck wanted to take a page out of Bobby and Athena's book and wait a little while. Eddie had to nix the cruise idea almost immediately, even though he can't believe Buck even asked.)

He just wants to clean up, restock the ambulance for the next crew, then spend the next three days with his family.

But of course, nothing is ever easy for Eddie. Not with a husband like Buck.

"Ugh, this is just my luck. My boyfriend broke up with me yesterday and my friend was just trying to cheer me up with a drive." Eddie can practically hear a pout of her lips and makes eye contact with Hen who rolls her eyes playfully in return. "I can't believe I'm single and carless, now."

"I'm sorry, that really sucks," Buck says. He sounds so authentic, Eddie's heart clenches.

"You might be able to help me with one of those problems," she shamelessly says.

Buck, the beautiful man he is, barely notices the flirtation. "We have a phone in the ambulance you can use to call someone to pick you up!" He's like a puppy in his response, and Beverly deflates instead of praising him like he clearly deserves.

"I can find a way home." She pauses like she's trying to think of how to get him back on track. Eddie snorts because he's been trying to figure out how to do that for almost a decade now. "So, do you live around here? There's a lot of really cool restaurants I can recommend for when you're done with your shift."

Eddie has to give her credit for some really solid attempts.

"Our station is actually on the other side of town and I live in the opposite direction, but I'll keep that in mind if I ever find my way out here!"

Beverly sighs and glances at her friend for assistance, who is next to no help since she's still in shock, like Beverly really should be.

"So, you're at station 118 then?" he hears Beverly ask. Her voice is so obviously flirtatious that Buck has to have noticed.

"Uh, y-yeah. 118, that's us," Buck mutters, tone laced with nerves.

Eddie glances over at the stutter and sees Beverly much closer than even Eddie would be to him on a call. His eyes narrow but he stays put. Buck can take care of himself.

"I bet you can lift that much, too, huh?" Beverly makes a dire mistake, and that's to reach out toward Buck. "I'm only 115, so it'd be pretty easy for you to... you know, lift me, right?"

Hen mutters, "Uh oh." It's loud enough for her patient to ask what's going on, but Eddie doesn't wait for her answer. He does hear Chimney's practically diabolical laughter, and Buck's awkward throat clear.

"I just weighed in at 190 and most nights he lifts me with ease, isn't that right, Buck?"

Eddie almost wishes he'd been recording. Beverly's mouth drops comedically open before her hand slaps it back up, Chimney and Hen break into maniacal laughter that seems to break the other patient from her shock, and Buck blushes a deep red that disappears under his turnout and as far down as Eddie's sure Beverly was trying to get.

Just because he can, Eddie adds, “Though, I’m sure after we take our honeymoon, you’ll gain a lot of muscle during our… workouts.” 

“Jesus–” Buck breathes out. “It was great to meet you, Beverly. You said something about having a way to get home?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a ride…” She turns to Eddie, a delightful smirk on her face. “Though, it’s not nearly as pretty as yours.” 

Buck’s a mess as Eddie bursts out in laughter, and he’s positive his team’s about to file a complaint to HR, but something about being able to stake his claim over Buck so openly now makes him giddy inside. 

Yeah, it's times just like these where Eddie remembers exactly why he fell in love with Buck. 

[eclipseiz]

Commander ﹒⪩⪨﹒

pairing- phillip graves x reader

(♡ synopsis)- a mission results in you getting hurt, but also with commander graves head between your legs

warnings- "who did this to you" trope, established relationship, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, fingering

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Charging back into base you shoved pass the lingering soldiers who's gazes were glued to you.

Weather it was because you were the 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 woman on base or because it looked like you were hit by a bus. Your hair that was normally thrown back in a tight bun was sticking up at all different angles. Your dress has a tear up the side that was being held closed by your hand and the star of the show was the deep purple bruise that imprinted on the side of your face. Sending you into a drug house acting like a prostitute had to be the worst plan in history

"L.T hold on" you heard Soap yell from behind you but you kept moving forward not bothering to stop your journey to the bathroom to wash up before crashing in bed.

You felt a hand grip your arm making you whip around and lock eyes with the mohawk wearing man, "What in gods name do you need right now? Wasn't sending me into El Sin Nombre's house 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 may I add enough?!"

He quickly dropped your arm, "Were sorry L.T we didn't know it would escalate that quick." he said solemnly.

You scoffed shaking your head and rolling your tongue against your cheek, "It wasn't on you Soap. Its on the idiots that sent me in their and didn't proceed to have my back." you patted his shoulder before stepping back. "I'm gonna clean up and get some rest, tell the others I do not want to be bothered unless someone's getting dying."

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Stepping out of the steamy shower you quickly dried off before walking to the mirror assessing the purple marking around your cheek.

Hearing the door click open you quickly turned around to yell at whoever was charging into an occupied bathroom but cut yourself seeing it was Phillip.

"I heard you got hurt." he said before stopping infront of you and bringing his fingers to your chin to turn your head. "W𝗁𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝖽 this 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎?" he asked between clenched teeth.

You brought your hand to his chest rubbing down the hard abs underneath his muscle shirt, "I was told to go into a back hallway to find an entrance to the third floor. Ghost said he was watching but he must have gotten distracted because a Cartel member cornered me in and tried to make advances on me." You sighed. "When I rejected him he backhanded me. I got the knife I had on my thigh and killed him."

He tensed under your hands, "Are you okay?" he asked slowly watching for any reaction on your face.

"Coudn't be better. Would just love to take a nap." You stepped back towards the door to your bedroom, "Wanna join?"

Phillip didn't skip a beat in following after you and sitting on the bed, watching as you dropped the towel covering your naked body. You went to reach for pants and a shirt but he stopped you, "Don't bother with that, come lay down baby."

You smirked as you walked to the side of your bed and crawled over to him, "Why's that?"

"Lay down and I'll show you." as you moved onto your back he moved onto his stomach, his breath hitting your hot core, "Aw look, my pretty girl already soaked." he rubbed your juices around your lips before moving up to your clit.

"P-please." you gasped out, hand coming down to grip his cropped brown hair.

He chuckled before lapping at your clit while pushing the tips of his fingers into your entrance. Your head hit the back of the pillow as you moaned out a dreamy sigh. Noticing you already chasing your high he pushed his finger the rest of the way in, curling them to hit your g-spot at the perfect angle.

You had only been in this position for 3 minutes and he already had you a panting mess, "Make me come Commander. Please."

He perked up at the use of his title flicking his tongue faster, "Cmon Baby, Cmon Baby, Cmon Baby." He whispered agaisnt your puffy clit.

You came with a earth crushing moan, your body tensing and your hands pushing Phillips head further into your core, "Holy Shit." you sighed out as he moved back up your body giving you a passionate kiss before moving off the bed.

"Sleep well baby, Ill be back in a little bit." the Commander said before tucking the blankets over and turning the light off.

Lets just say Ghost got his ass handed to him that night.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

[hyunestrella]

★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 . YANG JEONGIN.

★༉ SUMMARY. You loved to rile him up, but he’d always win.

★༉ PAIRING. Yang Jeongin x GN! Reader.

★༉ GENRE. Whatever this is tbh.

— word count. 739 words.

— warnings. they/them pronouns, jealousy, commitment issues, toxic relationships, degradation (slut shaming), established ex-relationship (?), fwb(??), pet names (baby), whore jeongin, choking (kinda), extremely suggestive (not explicit though). let me know if i missed anything!!

— notes. 16+ to read.

— notes. think of the jeongin that’s sticking his tongue out & sinfully body rolling, bc thats who i am thinking of :]

— notes. i stayed up all night writing this, and was debating a nsfw ver. lmk of that’s something you’re interested in :)!

— masterlist.

Jeongin stood, leaning against the counter, his arms folded against his chest, nails digging into his biceps, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as his attention was zoned in on you.

You were dancing with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, head thrown back on their shoulder as their hand wrapped around your throat. Both your hips moved in time with the music.

Jeongin was pissed. Pissed that you were dancing with some douche bag that only wanted to get in your pants, pissed that you were doing this just to spite him, and he was pissed that he couldn’t do shit about it because you weren’t his.

The issue with Jeongin was that he couldn’t settle down. Time and time again he turned you down, told you that he wasn’t ready to commit to you, told you he wasn’t made for love. Yet you still let him hold you, kiss you, fuck you — hoping it would be enough change his mind.

Obviously, you were tired of waiting.

Jeongin’s eyebrows furrowed, face contorting into an ugly frown, as you looked over at him. The two of you made eye contact, holding it for as long as possible before you smiled, smirked, at him, and the blonde felt his anger turn into rage. He felt a hand on his shoulder, the weight of it helping to calm him a little, his eldest friend knowing him well, “they’re doing this to rile you up, ignore them.”

The blonde looked at Chan, considering his words for a moment — ignoring you would mean you lost, ignoring you would mean you wouldn’t be able to get the satisfaction of seeing him angry, ignoring you would mean you’d come running back to him.

Jeongin just smiled at his friend, dimples on full display hiding his true thoughts, “I will,” he looked back over at you, a bored look painted on your beautiful features. It was obvious the guy behind you was doing nothing to entertain you, he was nothing but a pawn in your twisted game, whispering nonsense in your ear that you didn’t care to hear. “If they wanna act like a slut, thats on them.”

Making your way to the bar, you allowed your boy toy to dance with some random, patting him on the arm as you left with a promise that you’d be back, but you both knew it was a lie.

Sure, he was attractive, but he was no Jeongin.

“Tired of him yet?” The blonde stood next to you, smiling at the pretty barmaid, as he tipped her when she put his drink before him. His hand moved to the small of your back, falling to your ass, fining its way into the pocket of your cargos. He looked down at you, sipping on his drink as he looked at you expectantly, “seem’s like he is of you.” He nodded to the man you were just with, grinding his crotch into someone’s backside.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, taking your own drink stirring it with the straw, “what’s it to you?” Your eye’s narrowed in on him.

Jeongin just chucked, taking his hand out of your back pocket, tapping your ass. “Stop playing, baby,” he leaned down to your ear, breath hot against it has he whispered, “I know you want me.” He kissed the shell of your ear, moving to your jaw. His kisses were wet, feverish, that had you gripping the fabric of his shirt as you tried to control your breathing. “You can stop with this attitude, I’m here now, yeah?” He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and he smirked seeing the lust in your gaze, “You don’t need to try and make me jealous.”

Your lips fell into a pout, pulling away from his touch, “‘m not.” You huff, frowning as you massaged your forehead with your fingers, “I don’t want you.” You were lying through your teeth, you both knew that, but you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction, you couldn’t let him win.

The blonde seemed to have the same mindset, he pushed his lips to yours, and you melted instantly. Your free arm wrapping around his neck, as he pulled you in against him leaving no room between your bodies. When he pulled away, you chased his lips — too drunk on him to care about the game anymore, to care that you lost.

Jeongin won.

★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓����𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@liknws , @l3visbby (++ followers from my old blog, lmk if you want to be removed.), @hyunverse , @seungbinbin , @sunboki , @choiwonder , @nebulousbookshelf , @cosmic-railwayxo

© @hyunestrella 2023.

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

Without You: Vergil x G/N Reader

Summary: You have been missing for some time now and Vergil is slowly losing it. The blue devil's constant fear and worry about you being dead has turned him into a shadow of hi former self; someone that is even capable of grinding on Dante's gears.

Another pretty story-heavy oneshot; six dividers (double equal signs) down for important parts if you want to skip the pre-text. ⏳⏳⏳ Once again, I reference the “Revenant Shotgun” as being your gun; I really think the gun is pretty lmao. You also use Beowulf. Minor blood/gut talk, nothing too serious though (figured I should mention it just in case). This is the first time I have tried to write combat since I was like 13, so forgive the (probably) less-than-adequate scene writing--I tried lol. ⏳⏳⏳ Pre-established relationship with Vergil. G/N reader. ⏳⏳⏳ Semi-angst followed by fluff (I don't know why I keep writing sad Vergil things; I swear I'll stop after this lmfao)

==

     The air was stagnated and stale as Nero slowly sat up, groaning in pain. His head was pounding as he looked around, confused and disorientated. He slowly blinked as he got a grasp on his surroundings. With a huff, Nero mindlessly groped around his lower back for Blue Rose and found it missing. This snapped him to attention as he began to sporadically eye over the area around him. 

     His brow furrowed as he focused on Red Queen which was thrust into the ground nearly twenty feet away. Slowly standing up with a wince, he went over to the sword. As he yanked the stubbornly stuck blade from the ground, a glint of light caught his attention. Blue Rose was laying on the ground nearby. 

     Placing Red Queen on his back, he clicked his tongue and went to retrieve his sidearm. “What in the fuck happened?” Nero’s thoughts were a blur as he scrunched his face struggling to put together the broken pieces of his recent memories. 

==

     “Move it, asshole!” Nero insincerely barked as he held a growl from deep within his throat.

     You ducked down into a roll, knowing that Nero was going to lose control soon and it was best not to argue with his demonic side. Using Beowulf to quickly spin upward and to your feet, you managed to make quick work of a Choas demon's spines. Seizing the opportunity, you aimed Revenant dead-center of the creature’s eyes and pulled the trigger. Smoothly holstering your shotgun, you continued fighting the onslaught of demons alongside the now devil-triggered Nero. 

     It was like a beautiful deadly dance when the two of you got into your well-practiced tango of destruction. Nero would typically take a more topside approach, using his wings to pull things to him and then dropping them to you. His over-the-top chaotic slashing and slicing would then be cleaned up by you underneath him. You, who had the completely opposite style, opted for a calm and collected approach, especially if you were using Vergil’s gear. Times like these are something you cherish dearly and never want to end--even if you are being coated by blood and demonic entrails. 

     A sudden out-of-place movement caught the corner of your eye as you tried to move out of its path; however, you weren’t quite fast enough and got thrown across the room.

     Nero’s attention was drawn to your flying body, “What the--!” before he could think he was hammer fisted directly into the ground below him. With a bright-blue flash, his devil trigger ended, leaving a confused and human Nero looking up at a strange figure above him.

     The demon was not one Nero had seen before--it reminded him of the descriptions of the “Third Beast of Revelations”. However, its appearance wasn’t quite as he remembered being told--only having four of the seven heads that it is supposed to have. 

     The young man stood up, “What the hell are you supposed to be, huh?” he smirked. The creature lunged at him, which Nero avoided. He laughed a bit holding the Blue Rose aimed at the back of the beast, “Too slow. Wanna try again?” 

     Nero sidestepped the demon again but was hit by an unexpected swing of its tail. He dropped his revolver as he was tossed across the room. Nero went to get up again. Before he moved back in, however, his ears twitched at a strange sound. The hunter turned to his side and realized that the noise was your breathing. Gently grabbing your shoulder, Nero tried to shake you awake. Revenant and Beowulf had been tossed far from your body and you were out cold. Seeing as there was a large amount of blood dripping from your forehead, that wouldn’t be changing any time soon. 

     “Shit,” Nero mumbled under his breath as he pulled Red Queen from the resting place on his back, “You’re gonna owe me big time.”

     With an impossibly blinding speed, the young hunter took off toward the large demon. Nero’s face was in a grimace as he focused the best he could without his trigger. In hindsight, he was regretting using his demonic energy on such a simple fight before. 

     His attempt at defeating this beast alone was futile; it was much too strong for him in this state. Another large hit from the beast sent him flying in the opposite direction as before; leaving your unconscious body as far from him as possible. The demon also noticed this as it turned its sights to your limp form. 

     “Tch, shit-” Nero hastily got up on his feet and ran to your aid; however, it was too late. The beast had your body in its grasp as it curiously looked you over. “Put them down you fuck!” his mind was racing; if something happens to you, Vergil will kill him. 

     With a grunt, Nero sprung up at the demon. Who only batted him away again. He used Red Queen to stop himself from flying so far off. Knowing there wasn’t time, he left the sword and was going to fight using just his hands. Was it stupid? Yes. Did he care? No, not if it meant trying everything he could to protect you--someone who had become essentially his step-parent. 

     However, the demon had no intent on letting you leave this place with the youngest Sparda descendant. It opened a fissure through the floor, but before leaving, attacked Nero one last time. It sent him flying in an almost straight line across the room and into a wall, knocking the hunter out cold. 

==

     Nero stood in front of where he had last seen you lay, your weapons were still strewn about and your coat had fallen from your shoulders as you were snatched upward. A cold heavy feeling sunk in as he just stood there staring. 

     Slowly he gathered your gear, he didn't know how he was going to tell the others what happened. Nero didn’t know whose response would be worse; Dante mocking him for his lack of skill or Vergil who would undoubtedly lose it over this. 

     He just wanted to go back to the DMC and get this over with. Nero left the demon nest, not caring that he hadn’t finished the job. Outside, Nico was in her van waiting for the pair’s return. 

     Seeing Nero, she opened the door of the van, “Took y’all long--” she paused, seeing the gear in Nero’s arms, “Whoa, wait… Where’s--”

     “I don’t know,” Nero mumbled, refusing to look Nico in the eye as he got into the vehicle.

     “Whatdya’ mean ‘you don’t know’?” her voice was playful, thinking that Nero was just fucking with her as he placed the items on the table. 

     He leaned a bit onto the table with his palms flatly pressed against it, “I don’t know where they are..!” he grimaced as he stood back up with clenched fists, “Some fucking big asshole took ‘em” 

     Nico’s expression and pose changed from casual to a more serious one, “Wait-- they’re really missin’?” Nero’s frustrated stare said it all, “Holy crap-- Should we call your folks, I’m sure--”

     “It wouldn’t help,” Nero relaxed his fists and took a deep breath trying to calm down, “They’ve been gone for a while, their scent’s gone.”

     “Shit,” Nico pursed her lips as she paused for a moment, “Well, whaddya’ wanna do?”

     Nero looked over to her, “I want to go to the shop. This is more important than the job.”

     “Gotcha,” Nico wanted to poke at him but found herself unable to. Nero looked beyond exhausted and she knew that the brother’s responses will be more than punishing enough. 

     Neither of them spoke the whole way back.

==

     Not wanting to be there when the three devils rip each other apart, Nico just dropped Nero in the garage and left.

     Deciding to wait a moment before going in, Nero focused his hearing. He only heard one heartbeat meaning there was only one person at the shop when he returned. Thankfully, upon opening the door, it was Dante.

     The red devil sat at his desk with his back to the garage, “Hey, you two are back early,” his gaze didn’t leave whatever he was doing on his desk, “Was thinking about ordering a pizza. You guys want anything?”

     Nero’s face was pale and gave no response. He just simply walked over to the coffee table and plopped down your coat and weapons.

     Dante pouted slightly with confusion, “If you don’t want--” his brow twitched as he noticed that there was only one person that had come in, “Hey where’s--” his happy expression dropped quickly. He moved around to the side of his desk to see what Nero had just set down.

     “Dante-” Nero bit his tongue in thought, “Before you go off; hear me out?”

     He scratched the stubble on his face, “Sure, go ahead kid.” he leaned back onto his desk.

     Nero explained what happened and what attacked them. Surprisingly, Dante wasn’t mad or made any rude jabs about things. He just simply nodded along and paid close attention.

     “Well Nero,” Dante shook his head and sighed, “As much as I want to give you shit-- You’re lucky to be alive. That bastard ain’t an easy thing to fight, ‘specially without a trigger handy…”

     Nero’s gaze found its way back down to your gear, “You think they’re still alive, Dante?”

     He sighed and stood back up, “If they weren’t, Vergil would know by now,” he bit his lip, “Question is: why did the demon want them alive?”

     “Think Vergil would know?”

     “Doubt it, he knows just as little as I do about those beasts…" he paused briefly before continuing, "Look, Nero,” Dante set a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “go home. I will tell Vergil about this whole thing. He’s already ripped off your arm, I really don’t want him to try ‘n gut you too. Okay?”

     Nero was taken aback by what he said and nodded, “Thanks, Dante.”

     “Any time kid,” Dante removed his hand, “Just don’t come back till I let you know it’s safe. Might take your old man a few days to calm down.”

     “Sure thing,” Nero moved to the garage door, “Keep me posted, yeah?”

     Dante gave a stiff nod to Nero as he watched him shut the door.

      “Vergil’s just going to gut us instead… You’re a fuckin’ genius, Dante.” he sighed at his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do?

     A few hours passed before the door finally swung open. Vergil stepped into the shop raising a brow at his brother who was at the desk asleep. With a sly smile and shake of his head, Vergil walked further into the room. 

     However, that smile quickly faded upon seeing Revenant, Beowulf, and your folded jacket sitting on the coffee table, “Dante.”

     The younger twin slowly blinked as he opened his eyes and sat upwards, “Hm?”

     “What is--” Vergil’s brow slowly furrowed further and further, “Why is their gear here?”

     “Well..” Dante stood up and took a deep breath, “Look I ain’t gonna sugar coat it: They are missing.”

     “ What? ” Vergil’s voice was sharp as he glared at Dante.

     “Look, before you go and try to kill Nero--It wasn’t his fault,” Dante shrugged, “We would’ve had a tough time with what happened.”

     Vergil made sure to enunciate each word clearly, “Dante, what happened.”

     “They were attacked by one of those Revelation beasts. Your kid barely made it out. Nero said that they took your partner with them, so the demon wanted them alive for some reason.”

     Vergil’s face went pale as his blood ran cold, “Where were they, I want to have a look at things.”

     “Sure thing… I’m coming with though--you might need me,” Dante winked then stretched with a groan.

     “Whatever.”

     They did go look. Vergil found nothing. It was a dead end.

==

     Several months had gone by and the usual bustling and jovial atmosphere of the Devil May Cry had faded. Now all that remained was a quiet angst and depressed mood that was brought on by one individual alone.

      The silence was broken by the sound of the garage door opening. Standing in the doorway were the two twin sons of Sparda; Vergil stood in front of Dante. The eldest headed up to his room, not saying a word. His silent steps were filled with anger; an emotion that has become a common theme in recent times. Dante just stood, watching his brother go up the winding stairs.

     Across the room, Nero sat on the couch. His gaze moved off of his phone and onto the remaining brother--who was already raiding the fridge, “Any luck, Dante?” 

     “No! There was absolutely fucking nothing.” Dante was seething as he looked over at Nero, “Your old man is just so… infuriating; I am this close to shoving the Yamato so far up his ass--.” with a pinch of the bridge of his nose, the youngest twin huffed out a heavy sigh.

     Nero shook his head with a small laugh; knowing exactly how Dante felt. Vergil would barely talk to Nero without getting an irritated tone and becoming condescending, “Don’t worry, it’s only gonna keep getting worse; how long’s it been anyways--four months?”

     Dante let out a nod of affirmation walking over to his desk. He kicked up his feet and cracked open the bottle drinking the majority of the bottle in one go, “You know, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised if Vergil’s going to storm his way down into Hell just to make sure he’s looked everywhere.”

     “He’s that desperate, huh?” Nero sat forward more on the couch, paying more attention to what was being said. 

     “That doesn’t even come close to describing how Verge’s being. I mean,” Another wave of building frustration was slowing creeping onto Dante’s face signified by his furrowed brow, “I don’t blame him for being worried--I would be if it were my lover--but still…” he exasperatedly removed his boots from the desk, making a slight thud as they hit the floor, “-he doesn’t have to be such a dick about things. I’m trying to help.” Dante was attempting to find his happy place--lest he wants to have another hole in the drywall.

     “Vergil being a dick is nothing new--you’d know that better than me--he’s just not used to needing help,” Nero stood up from the couch revealing a manila envelope in his hand, “On a better note: Morrison dropped this off while you were out, said it’s for your eyes only.”

    “Really?” Dante reached forward and snatched the envelope, “I wonder what that means, Morrison doesn’t often--” his voice slowly drifted as something inside the folder caught his attention. He continued to flip through the documents faster and faster with a wide-eyed stare.

     Curiosity getting the better of him, Nero leaned over trying to take a peek at the papers, “What’s so interesting, huh?”      

     Without answering, Dante jumped up from his seat. The youngest son of Sparda ran up the stairs and began to bang rapidly on a certain blue demon’s door, “Vergil! Vergil, open up! Come on! Verge--”

     A door pushed hard into Dante’s shoulder as a set of mildly bloodshot iced-over eyes met his, “What is it?” Dante stood frozen for a moment, not expecting Vergil to have answered the door so quickly; let alone seeing him after he had been (what appeared to be) crying, “What do you want, Dante.” Vergil’s sharp tone cut Dante from his thoughts.

     “Shit, sorry. Just--here,” he shoved the folder at Vergil, “have a look at this.”

    Vergil lifted a brow in curiosity as he let go of the doorknob and stopped shoving the door into his little brother. Sighing quietly, Vergil began to sift through the documents and pictures; the further he read, the further his brow creased. Vergil’s voice was rough and cracked as he looked at Dante, “Where--”

    “Morrison dropped it off while we were out. Gave it to Nero… Is it that what I think it is?” 

     Vergil cleared his throat and took a short pause, “It could be--I would have to see it to be sure.”

    “Alright, then saddle up princess, we got a job to do,” and with that, Dante left before Vergil chastised him for the jab. 

     A few moments later, Vergil came downstairs with his demon hunting gear re-equipped. Dante stretched his arms upward cracking his back quite loudly, “Ready, Verge?” Vergil gave Dante a curt nod and began to walk toward the garage door. Before leaving, Dante humorously cooed at Nero, “Make sure to finish your homework and be in bed by 7. We will be back in the morning--so behave till then. Love youuu~” flashing a wide sharp-toothed grin, he waved and headed for the door--ignoring the fact that Nero just whipped him off. 

     “Where is the location?” Vergil’s voice was deadpan as he unsheathed the Yamato.

     “Here-” Dante handed Vergil the paper with the address, “So, what are we gonna do if it really is--”

     “Silence." Vergil’s voice was sharp as his eyes turned to a harsh squint in irritation; tossing the folder off to the side. 

     Dante pursed his lips, pouting slightly at his brother’s attitude; but, didn’t feel like bantering so he remained silent. 

     Upon exiting the portal, the twins looked in front of them. The object of the job was before them, a large nest that was crawling with demons. Not wanting to waste time, they both ventured forward. 

==

     A few hours passed as the brothers slashed their way through the mound’s inhabitants. Dante and Vergil stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

     Dante adjusted his coat, “So, how far down do you think it’ll be? We gonna have to go all the way?”

     “Most likely,” Vergil slicked his hair back, “Is that a problem?” 

      “ ‘Course not, just was wonderin’,”

     Vergil didn’t respond and just continued forward, Dante following in toe.

     Dante cracked his knuckles, “So if it is-- then what?”

     “I do not know--nor will I know until I see it.”

     “Really hope that this lead is real and not another stupid hoax,” Dante frowned. 

     “If it is not worth our time,” Vergil’s voice was filled with more hostility with every word, “I will make sure to give the client a visit .”

     “No-- Vergil you can’t kill our clients; we are demon hunters, not people hunters. Plus, this nest needed to be taken care of anyway.”

     The eldest twin only scoffed in response. 

==

     It had been nearly eight hours since entering the nest and they still had no signs of what they were looking for. Both of them were getting crabby at this point; Vergil about the lack of evidence and Dante because of Vergil’s attitude. 

     “I swear--” Dante growled in frustration, “I am going to just fucking dig my way to the bottom of this fucking bastard.”

     “That is impossible,” Vergil’s voice held no emotion. 

     “I know, I am just getting sick of this shit,” he groaned, “Just feels like we are getting nowhere--that’s all.”

     Vergil stopped and tilted his head up slightly. Upon seeing this, Dante stopped as well.

     “Verge, I didn’t-” 

     Vergil turned his head to the left and began to walk.

     Dante rolled his eyes and pivoted in a grandiose manner, “Okay-ay, I guess we are goin’ this way now.”

     They walked in silence for a few more minutes before coming to a dead end. Vergil began to scowl and stare at the wall.

     “That’s a mighty fine wall there Verge, but what-” 

     “Break it.”

     “... What?” Dante double-took at his brother’s words.

     “I want you to break down this wall,” Vergil’s eyes moved sharply off the wall and to Dante.

     “Look, Vergil, I made a joke about breaking shit down--wasn’t actually going to start--”

     “Do as I say, Dante,” Vergil snarled, “Break. It. Down.”

     Dante sighed, driving his sword into the ground, and responded by using a mocking baby voice, “Fine, mister grumpy pants.”

     Using his Sin Trigger, Dante made quick work of the wall. The pair quickly stepped through as the hole repaired itself behind them. He shifted back into his human form and jogged after Vergil, who was already going forward. Another half hour passed of Vergil's speed walking forward intensely focused on something.

     “Soooo… Plan on telling me what exactly you’re doing or are you gonna make me guess?”

     Vergil hit Dante flat across the chest with a sheathed Yamato; before Dante could protest, he saw what his brother was staring at. 

     In front of them stood a fairly huge demon--the same one from the job's folder. The creature was similar to a centaur; however, a lizard (or demon) had been thrown into the mix as well. 

     A large spear was held by one of its three-fingered hands. On the body, there were three sets of violet claws; the legs of which were covered in a thick dark midnight blue fur with bits of sky blue streaks scattered throughout. Three maroon-scaled tails protruded from the back of the creature, a thin cerulean membrane trailing up the middle of each topside and trailing up the base of the creature’s skull.  

     Layered scales, colored the same as the tail’s, ran up the underbelly, body, and torso of the demon. Pale teal-green scaled skin was exposed through the frontline of the torso, showing off a muscular structure similar to that of a human. 

     Continuing up those scales led you to the head of the beast. It was similar in shape to a human’s but had seven eyes of pure milky white which filled the entire front due to the lack of a mouth. Extending from the sides of the face, there were clay-grey semi-transparent frills--appearing very much like a frilled lizard’s--that ran from the underside of the jaw up to a set of horns that the frills connected to. 

     Dante nudged Vergil, “Man, I thought Lady’s demon form was ugly--theirs takes the cake. Good job using that nose of yours and finding your mate, good thing you--” he stopped noticing his brother’s glazed-over stare.

     Vergil was paying no mind to Dante or anything around him. His eyes were focused on the trinket that was embedded right in between the creature’s collar bones, nestled deep in the suprasternal notch. His blood ran cold as he would know that jewelry anywhere; it was his amulet half--the one he had gifted you on your anniversary nearly a year ago. He stood, unmoving--not even taking deep enough breaths to move his chest. Everything in him told him to fight the capsule of a demon in front of him; yet, he couldn’t bring himself to.

     Dante, however, was paralyzed by neither fear, grief, nor anger; he was actually glad they finally found you. Giving one last glance at his, still very frozen, brother Dante moved into the large space--drawing the demon’s attention. 

     “So,” he started, “this is where you’ve been hanging out, huh? ‘Place is kind of a drag if you ask me,”  Curiously, the demon slowly approached Dante, staring at him, “You ain’t gotta make this hard--just lay that big stick down and let us-” he looked back at Vergil, who still hadn’t moved, “or well let me get you outta there. Whaddya say?”

     It stood in front of the younger brother for a moment then turned its head to look at Vergil. Without even returning their attention back to Dante, they punted the younger brother across the room with one swing of its paw. A loud crack emanated from the force of him hitting--and going through--the wall. 

     “Son of a Bitch…” With a groan, Dante slowly stood back up, “And I’m supposed to believe you’re the same person that gives me shit for my hugs.”

     Digging his heels into the ground, Dante took off running. He raised his Devil Sword as he got within striking distance; however, the demon only backhanded him, sending him flying once more. The creature still hadn’t torn its gaze from Vergil; it almost seemed as if it was trying to place the eldest son. Dante attempted to strike again, only to be hit away for a third time.

     The eldest son’s mind was racing; between infinite anger that spiraled to the deepest darkest depths of his demon and immense guilt for not protecting you eating at his human consciousness--Vergil, for the first time in a long time, was completely frozen. He was your boyfriend, your lover, your mate; he should’ve been there to protect you: instead, you ended up suffering something that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

     “Okay, you bastard,” Dante sniffled as blood began to drip from his nose, pulling out Ivory & Ebony, “Let’s try this, shall we?”

     Upon feeling the bullets hit the side of their legs, the demon turned to Dante--finally breaking their piercing staredown. It trotted towards Dante and swung its spear, only missing Dante by mere inches. He jumped onto the spear and ran up it, still firing the twin pistols. The creature used its free hand to grab Dante; moving much faster than the devil hunter had expected, and began to constrict him.

     “Heh, you got quite the--,” he let out a strained groan, “quite the grip.”

     Dante struggled a bit trying to loosen the demon’s grip. He couldn’t focus like this and, if he couldn’t focus, triggering (in any capacity) was off the table. So, Dante did what any younger sibling would do; he started to yell for his big brother.

     “Vergil-- I could use a hand here!” Dante’s body started to ache from the pressure, “God damn it! VERGIL!”

     The loud shouting from his baby brother pulled Vergil from his thoughts. He looked up at Dante and started moving. The demon’s attention was now drawn to the sudden movement of the oldest brother and ever-so-slightly loosened its grip. Not wanting to waste the chance, Dante quickly triggered; making the demon drop the lava-hot Dante.

     “He-hey! Nice to see you finally helping out,” Dante rolled avoiding the large spear.

     Glaring over at Dante, Vergil teleported near the creature’s ankle and sliced it with Mirage Edge; coating him with the creature’s blood.

     Vergil moved to Dante’s side taking advantage of the few moments of reprieve the attack gave them.

     “So, got any ideas?” Dante tried to wipe some of the blood off of Vergil’s face using his coat; however, Vergil harshly swatted away his hand.

     Vergil’s brow furrowed, “Its front and neck would be the best places to try and cut it open; given its scales might be much thicker than I think…”

     Dante twitched his head to the side in a nod, the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, “Better than nothing. Shall we?”

     The twins decided to split, each going opposite ways. Confused about what to do, it followed Dante with its body while attempting to use its tails and back paws to hit Vergil.

     Dante took another large hit and created another crater in the wall. He fell to the ground catching himself at the last moment, coming to rest in a kneel. He took a moment to wipe some blood that had begun to drip from his mouth. 

     A large heavy object slammed into Dante, it was Vergil. The two of them hit the wall together, Vergil’s weight only shoving Dante further into the already-created crater: they both were going to be sore after this.

     They both removed themselves from the wall and stood side by side, both slouching slightly.

     With a growl-covered groan, Vergil’s eyes sharpened their gaze upon the demon, “You still have a trigger left in you, brother?” his breath had become slightly ragged.

     Despite his exhaustion, Dante clapped back with his typical sarcastic tone, “Always--you sure you wanna use yours?” Dante straightened his posture.

     Vergil flicked out his arm on the side opposite Dante, summoning his doppelgänger, “For this, yes.”

     There was a flash of light and the two were both in their Sin Triggers. It was quite the sight, one that only would occur when the brothers were fighting themselves. Neither of them had to tell the other what the plan was; perks of being twins as Dante would say.

     Taking the same approach as before, they spilt ways--Doppel following beside Vergil. 

     The demon was confused and turning itself around in circles over how many fast-moving targets it was now presented with. Vergil and Doppel managed to keep the creature’s attention long enough that Dante was able to get behind the creature’s head. With great strength, Dante grabbed the creature’s horns and pulled its head back. He did his best to keep it steady; however, it thrashed like a bull and unexpectedly was able to shake Dante around. Seeing his brother struggling, Vergil sent Doppel to assist him. With the two both pulling on the creature in opposite directions, the thrashing slowed. 

     Seizing the opportunity, Vergil shot up the midline of the torso cutting along it with the Yamato. Once he reached the bottom of the amulet, he stopped and fell back to the ground calling back Doppel; Dante followed suit.

     They both stood as humans, having exhausted their demonic energy, staring with bated breath. The demon’s midline showed the cut; however, nothing was happening. 

     “Verge ain’t--” Dante’s face went pale after turning towards his older brother.

     Vergil looked pissed, no, he looked beyond pissed. His grip had tightened on the Yamato so hard his knuckles were turning colors. Without warning, Vergil triggered himself once more and took off toward the demon; this time, however, the creature wasn’t being held back by others. 

     He jumped off of the spear that had been swung and avoided the other hand’s attempt at grabbing the blue devil. His speed was unimaginable as he was instantaneously on top of the demon’s head. With great effort, he plunged Mirage Edge deep into the scaly skin and tissues of the creature. Swiftly, he yanked the blade down the middle of the face, down the throat, and stopped above the necklace. With one of his forearm blades, Vergil gouged out the amulet and tore it from its resting place. 

     A large amount of blood began to spew from the new incision. Vergil was thrown violently from the beast as it began to flail about. A plume of blue energy emitted from the man as he hit the floor--hard. Dante ran over to the hole containing the other twin with slight concern. The once again human, Vergil lay unmoving in the newly-formed crater as Dante slid down to his brother’s side. 

     “Hey, you’re not dead--right?” the red demon poked Vergil slightly. 

     Vergil slowly opened his eyes and glared up at Dante, “It will take much more to kill me,” he sat up and groaned quietly in pain, “I assure you, little brother.”

     Dante laughed and offered a hand to help Vergil up; which, normally he wouldn’t accept but today Vergil was too exhausted to fuss over such things.

     Upon exiting the crater they found the demon laying on its belly like a resting horse, slowly bleeding out from Vergil’s second attack. 

     Vergil moved to finish it off but was stopped by Dante’s forearm, “Allow me.” 

     Dante carefully used his Devil Sword and re-cut over the Yamato’s shallow slice. Although the demon was dying, it did put up somewhat of a fight by swinging its hands and claws at Dante; all the while, its gaze found Vergil’s again--who was slowly approaching the suffering creature. 

     “Just die already, you son-of-a-bitch,” Dante growled through his teeth as he dug his sword further into the demon’s stomach, making it shout an ear-piercing sad cry; which sounded almost human-- Vergil did his best to ignore that part.

     The demonic corpse dissolved slowly. Vergil had made it to his brother’s side as he watched the disintegration before them. He bent over and picked up the amulet that he had dropped while being thrown around. With a gentle sigh, Vergil placed it into his pocket and stood back up.

     The pair's attention was now drawn to where the head of the beast once lay. In its place, you were laying there; naked and dead to the world. At first, the brothers thought you were actually dead but then they heard your faint heartbeat and took a sigh of relief. 

     Vergil’s expression was a strange mixture of joy, anger, and sadness. He walked over to you, his steps were cautious and silent. Once by your side, Vergil removed his coat, gently wrapped you in it, and picked you up. His brief moment of solace was interrupted by a large tremor.

     “Hey, uh, Verge--” Dante quickly moved to his brother’s side, “You gonna be able to get us outta here?”

     Vergil paused for a moment giving thought to whether he could or not, “Yes,” he pursed his lips.

     Dante noticed his hesitation and was going to question him; however, the younger brother quickly put together why. “Vergil, hand them to me--you can’t use Yamato like that.”

     “No, I--” another tremor broke off a part of the ceiling nearby, “Fine.”

     Vergil handed you over to Dante and pulled out the Yamato. With a deep breath, he sliced open a portal and traversed through with Dante right behind him. 

     Once out of the other side, Vergil didn’t even give Dante a chance to think before ripping you from him. Vergil knows that Dante wouldn’t dare hurt you, however, he had an overwhelming urge to keep you far from anyone besides himself. 

     Dante looked around and scratched the stubble on his jaw, “Uh, Vergil… This ain’t the shop,” the pair was standing where they had entered nearly twelve hours prior. 

     With a low mumble, Vergil avoided looking at Dante, “I don’t have the energy for that…”

     Dante bit his tongue hard--all he wanted to do was poke fun at Vergil and would have if Vergil was in a better headspace. Instead, he just simply nodded at Vergil, “Well… I can call a ride if you want..? I’m sure Nico wouldn’t mind picking us up--given she’ll want a cut of the pay.”

     “She can have my half; I got what I came for,” money was the furthest thing from the blue devil's mind, all he could think about was that he finally had you back.

     “Alright--you sure you’re okay with--”

     “Yes.”

     Dante let out a small ‘heh’ and pulled out his very well-protected phone.

     Nico showed up around an hour later. Once stopped, the door swung open, and out strode Nero. 

     He looked over at his father and uncle, who were sitting on a ledge and the floor respectively.

     “Holy shit, you actually found them? Nico said that Dante-- I didn’t believe her…” Nero extended a hand to help the very sore Dante off the ground. Without so much as a nod to his son, Vergil got into the van.

     Dante groaned and cracked his back, “Don’t take it personally, kid. Vergil’s in a weird mood.”

     “What happened? I saw the folder that was thrown on the floor of the garage, but--” the pair began to walk to the van side-by-side, “I don’t get how you knew.”

     “When we get back… or after I take a hot shower and nap… I’ll fill you in on the details at some point,” Dante slumped down on the couch in the van that was opposite Vergil.

     Before Nero could protest at Dante’s wait time, the younger twin was sound asleep--even snoring a little.

     With everyone in the van, Nico began to drive; despite Nero still standing. Before the youngest Sparda descendant went up to his seat, he turned to Vergil, “You uh… gonna be okay?” Nero felt awkward asking the typically stoic man such an out-of-character question.

     Vergil looked up at Nero with a confused tilt to his brow then back down to you, “In time, yes.”

     Nero nodded--shocked that he got anything other than ‘yes’ or the silent treatment--and went up to the passenger seat for the rest of the quiet ride back to the shop.

==

     The moment the van stopped; even before Nico had turned off the ignition, Vergil got up and was out the van door. He thinks he heard someone say something as he left, but he didn’t care. All he wanted right now was to be in his room with you in his arms. Quickly and quietly he headed up the stairs and into his room.

     The eldest son prides himself on being the cleanest member of the Sparda line; however with you being gone, he had stopped caring about such trivial things. The room had quite a few sets of worn and unworn outfits strewn about. Several cups of half-drank liquids sat on various tabletops. The room wasn't messy by normal standards but Vergil was far from "normal".

      He walked over to his bed. Vergil moved you so he could support your body with one arm and fixed the disheveled mess that was his bed. Once satisfied, he set you down on the bedding; he noticed that you were filthy --which wasn’t surprising due to what had occurred. 

     Vergil hesitantly left his room to get some warm water, rags, and some medical supplies. It took him a moment to figure out what to grab--he wasn’t the best at treating wounds, he hasn’t ever needed to know such things; so he was as methodical as possible. Seeing how Vergil was struggling to find what he needed, Nero silently helped his father gather what was needed. Vergil gave Nero a solid nod in acknowledgment of his help.

     Upon returning to his room, Vergil began to gently wash your dirt and blood-ridden skin. While doing so, he noticed his hands had begun to shake. Furrowing his brow and pursing his lips in confusion, he stopped momentarily. Vergil never shakes, so what was going on?

     Using exhaustion as an explanation, he dismissed it with a shake of his head. Vergil continued to clean your body. You had visibly become slimmer from the several months of entrapment. His eyes moved up to your face, you were still sound asleep but he noticed that you looked deathly sick.  

     He took the rag and rung it out. Your body was cleaned; however,  you were still covered in wounds. Vergil knew that he couldn’t do anything for the copious amounts of bruises you had, so he moved to take care of several burn marks you had obtained; most of which were around your neck from Dante pulling on your demonic prison. Vergil put some burn cream onto his fingers and softly rubbed it on the marks. Letting out a shaky sigh, he moved on to the last thing he had to tend to before dressing you.

     The Yamato might not have mortality wounded your capsule, but it seemed to have nicked your midline all the way up--the cut was too thin and clean to have been from Dante’s Devil Sword. After wiping his hands off, he applied an antibiotic gel along the cut. If you had been awake, you would have cussed him out, no doubt. The thought brought a small smirk to Vergil’s face. 

     He grabbed the gauze and began to dress the wound; however, Vergil stopped. His vision had become blurry and his mind went blank. During these past four months, he had cried a few times, but it was always controlled and well-restrained. 

     Right now, though? He felt like screaming. He felt like weeping until he became ill. All he wanted to hear was your voice, to feel your lips on his face, to be held as he sobbed uncontrollably. Vergil felt like a little kid again; alone and afraid of losing those he loves. A whimpering hiccup brought him out of his thoughts as he looked up at you. Confusion sunk in as he saw you were still fast asleep. 

     He froze. The noise had come from him. Vergil tried to suppress his tears; he hard-shut his eyes, tried angrily furrowing his brow, and even tried looking upwards; nothing worked. 

     Nothing could stop the storm of pitiful tears that leaked from his tired eyes. So, he worked through them and finished patching you up the best the blue devil could. 

     Another strained whimper left his lips as he straightened himself back up. You didn’t live at the DMC with the brothers, so Vergil did not have any of your clothes. He knew he couldn’t just leave you naked (since anyone could walk in and see you) so he rustled through his clothing. Vergil didn’t have much in the sense of “casual” clothes which made this difficult. 

     Eventually, he decided on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a sleeveless black turtleneck. He managed to get you into the much-too-big clothing and tucked you into the duvet of his bed. 

     Vergil spent the rest of the night by your side holding your hand as he quietly grieved.

==

     Sunlight spilled into the dark room through the slightly ajar curtains. It was nearly noon and Vergil hadn’t moved from his spot next to you. Nero and Dante had both peaked in to check on you and the visibly exhausted hunter a few times… which they only got stared at in response.

     The blue devil could hear your heart and your breathing just fine; but, was unable to keep himself from thinking you weren’t going to make it. He had convinced himself that this whole ordeal was his fault. 

      “Maybe if you hadn’t had such a noticeable trinket on you wouldn’t have been taken.” he thought, “or was it because you have been associated with our cursed bloodline that this happened?”

     He felt a stinging in his eyes start once more, “I should have been there. It is my job to protect you and keep you safe. I failed you just like I have to everyone else,” his lips quivered as his breath stuttered, “Perhaps you would be better off without me,” Vergil’s chest heaved and his face twisted into a grimace. Once more, he had lost control of his emotions as he unintentionally tightened his grip on your hand.

     “You trying to break my fingers?” a hoarse sarcastic voice snapped Vergil to attention. You had woken up and were staring at him with a gentle concerned crease of your brow.

     Without a word, Vergil pulled you into a tight hug. Even if he wanted to say anything, he couldn’t; not in the distraught state he was in. Although you were still weak, you began to rub his back as you hugged. You relished in his scent and touch; something that felt like a distant memory while ensnared in the demon’s body. 

     “Miss me?” you heard and felt him shutter. He pushed further into you making you acutely aware of the large slice on your midsection, “Ow, fuck--”

     Vergil left the hug upon realizing what happened and, still unable to speak, pointed to your torso. With unsteady hands, you rolled up the very loose black fabric, “Oh…”

     Pulling the shirt back down, you looked at Vergil. His face was puffy and his eyes were bloodshot with prominent tear stains running down his face. Slowly you reached for your lover’s face and gently thumbed one of the tears from his cheek. 

     Vergil grabbed your hand and held it to his lips, just setting them against your cold skin. His expression was a mixture of painful sadness and overbearing happiness. A crease formed on his brow as he shut his eyes tightly. You could see Vergil trying to piece together what to say. 

     A few brief moments passed before he spoke, scarcely louder than a whisper, “I thought…” you felt his lips shake against your clammy skin, “I thought you were…” Vergil couldn’t bring himself to finish his words.

     You sadly smiled as you used your held hand to thumb over his stiff fingers, “and leave you alone? Not in a million years, Vergil.”

     The tremble in his lips worsened as his lips gently kissed your hand, stifling a whimper.

     After he let go of your hand, you moved to sit on the edge of the bed allowing your feet to dangle off the side, “Come here..?” you beckoned to your unraveling lover. 

     “Are you sure--I do not want to hurt you again,” his response was sheepish and meek.

     Not taking no for an answer, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto your lap. Having the large devil on your lap would have typically been uncomfortable; but, your want to hold him and comfort him in such a distraught state overrode every other thought.

     He hesitantly straddled your lap. You noticed his uncertainty and gently pulled him closer, “Let me hold you, please?” you were trying to reassure him. 

     Which seems to have worked; he hastily put his arms around you. He held on tightly grabbing wads of the loose shirt’s fabric as if he were actively being pulled off of you. Since he was taller than you, his head rested atop yours. The side of your face was resting on his chest and your arms were wrapped around him as you began to rub his back once more. 

     The man’s breathing became ragged as he fought with himself and his emotions. 

     “Vergil, it’s going to be okay,” you lovingly rubbed your face against his chest, hearing his heart racing, “you can let go now.”

     This small set of words finally undid the eldest son of Sparda.

     You had seen Vergil cry before, but only in small quiet amounts; never as raw and shattered as this. The hunter began to shake within your grasp. The only noise coming from the man was loud uncontrolled sobs and sharp breathing. His grip on the shirt had become a death grip; holding on tight enough to rip through the tightly woven fabric. A deep rumble came from his chest as it seemed even his demon was crying out in anguish.

     Deep within, you knew that these tears were for much more than your own disappearance. You knew that this strong soul had finally reached a breaking point. Closing your eyes, you pushed yourself into him and held him tightly, whispering sweet words of comfort to him. Gently and slowly, you kneaded against his back with your hands; knowing that it would comfort the blue devil. 

     Eventually, his cries slowed and his grip loosened.  Vergil’s body shifted as he longingly kissed the top of your head. Letting out a heavy sigh and shutter, he leaned back. You smiled at him. Vergil smiled in return, his eyes creased at the edges pushing the few remaining tears from his eyes. He took one of his hands and placed it on your bicep. The other found its way to your face. He thumbed over your cheek and lips with an undertone of uncertainty and disbelief; that this was real, that you were home.

     You leaned into the warmth of his palm, “I missed you too, Vergil…” a wave of a soft sadness mixed with love washed over you, “so very much.”

==

ENDING NOTES: Hope y’all like the art with this one--admittedly this would’ve been done much sooner if I hadn’t decided to add that. The scales and all textures are not things I drew; they are all sampled from real things--the feet, for example, are textured using orange peel(s). All colors (except the maroon scales) are from Nelo Angelo and both of Vergil’s sin triggers--I did change some saturations, but the basis for them is all from the stoic man’s palettes. ⏳⏳⏳ I swear the next thing is not going to be more angsty/sad Vergil. I actually was writing this alongside “What Would They Think”--I’d get bored with one and write some for the other lol. Hopefully, you enjoyed this story! Much love y’all (I’m thinking something with V or Nero next; which, Nero’s H/Cs are the hardest thing for me to write for some fucking reason lmao idk what is going on with that.)

==

Bonus short story that I wrote as a warm-up; post story stuff:

==

     Nero walked down the stairs of the Devil May Cry with a prominent dejected expression. With a small bounce to his step, the youngest Sparda descendant walked towards the fridge; however, an ‘ahem’ cough caught his attention. 

    J.D. Morrison was sitting on the edge of Dante’s desk smoking his typical stogie. The said owner of the desk was sitting there with a manilla folder in hand, staring at Nero. 

     Dante set the folder down, “So--” he leaned back in his chair, “How is he?” 

     Nero quickly glanced between the two, unsure of what he should and could say in front of the company broker.

     The red devil raised a brow, “Well?”

     “Uh-” Nero centered himself into Dante’s view, “He’s okay. Nothing’s really changed much.”

     Dante slowly nodded and bit his tongue in thought for a moment, “... They awake?”

     “No, doesn’t seem like they’ve even moved.”

     “Damn it,” the younger twin sighed, “Let’s hope they do soon; I can’t stand seeing him like that.”

     Nero shrugged, “At least Vergil’s not going to be a dick anymore.”

     Dante laughed, “Careful, you might jinx us.” he grabbed the folder he had previously been paging through, “Interested in doing a job with me--takin’ Verge’s place for now?”

     Nero took the folder from his uncle. After paging through it and reading it a bit Nero smiled slightly, “Sure, why not. Anything to get me out of here.”

     “Good--” Dante turned his attention to Morrison, “We’ll take it.”

     The broker smiled, “Glad to hear it. When--”

     A loud abrupt noise cut off J.D.’s question. It had come from above them and Nero bolted to the stairs.

     “Wait! Nero-” Dante got up fast enough to knock his chair over. He tackled Nero into the wall, preventing his ascension upward, “Stop.”

     “Let go of me!” Nero shoved Dante off of him.

     Dante put Nero in a sloppy cradle pin; holding him still, “Listen for a minute.”

     The young hunter stopped struggling. He furrowed his brow as he whispered, “Is that crying? ”

     With the same volume, Dante responded, “Yeah, it’s from Vergil.”

     They untangled from the floor and stood up. Both of them decided to grab their gear before Dante acknowledged the semi-confused Morrison, “Let’s take this somewhere else--give Vergil his privacy.”

     “Fine by me,” he stood up from the desk, “Although it would be nice to get an explanation once we leave.”

     Dante nodded with an unintentional smile, “Not much to say… Just a long overdue reunion.”

==

ENDING NOTES (FOR THE SECOND STORY): I figure that Vergil and Dante might not get along per se, but are able to be kind of nice to each other. Giving each other support or defense when needed; they are family after all. (This is why Dante wants to leave)

==

Want to see more like this? Want to read my work quicker and several stories that are not on Tumblr? Check this out on my AO3 (Linked here)

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

[ugh-yoongi]

Hi, requesting for the the Valentine’s Day drabbles pls: things you said when you were drunk + Seokjin

hi, thank you for this one! it was fun.

pairing: seokjin x f. reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

warnings: seokjin is drunk, some swearing. that's it! this is just fluff, mainly.

wordcount: 694

taking valentine's day drabble requests here ♡

You should’ve known when Jimin was the one to call.

Jimin never calls. Drunkenness is simply another state of matter to him, despite the fact that he has none of the grace or finesse of Seokjin and spends most of his time inebriated half-slumped in someone’s lap.

So you’re a little surprised when the clock rolls over to one a.m. and it’s Jimin’s name that flashes across your screen. Usually no one calls, because Seokjin has half a beer and is home and tucked into bed to read Webtoons by eleven, but it’s almost always Yoongi when someone does, typically gruff and abrasive and eager to get you off the phone on a good day, but gleeful and amused when he’s able to take the piss out of his hyung.

“Hello?”

“Hiii,” comes Jimin’s lilted voice. “What are you doing?”

You snort. “Well, it’s one o’clock in the morning, so I’m in bed watching a paid program for wrinkles and crepey skin.”

“That’s gross,” he replies. “You should stop doing that and come pick up Seokjin-hyung, he’s really drunk.”

And that’s how you find yourself outside the bar twenty minutes later, looking extremely out of place at this upscale Gangnam spot in a pair of joggers and sneakers and a puffy coat. Jeongguk and Namjoon meet you outside, Seokjin’s long arms thrown around each of their shoulders, and he half-smiles when he sees you. Cocks his head a little, like you’re familiar but he can’t place who you are.

“Thank fuck you’re here,” Jeongguk says, and Seokjin still scolds him for swearing even though he’s drunk.

Namjoon, always the diplomat, helps Seokjin into your car. Swings his legs inside and buckles his seatbelt. All but kisses his forehead goodnight, and it’s really sweet, you think; they’re all so careful with each other, always looking out. But then Namjoon slaps Jeongguk on the back and says, “Our turn,” and the moment’s kind of ruined.

“Wait!” Seokjin yells, the singular word slurred so badly it’s almost not a word anymore. “Who is this person? I don’t know her! Why are you sending me away with her?”

Jeongguk groans and immediately disappears back into the bar, leaving Namjoon to stare at you with wide, panicked eyes. “What do you mean, hyung?”

“I can—I can’t go with this person, I have a fiancée at home, that’s why we came here! To celebrate!”

Namjoon stands stock-still for a second. Looks at Seokjin. Looks at you. Then he says, “Yeah, good luck,” and follows Jeongguk inside, Seokjin pitching a fit the entire time despite the fact he makes no attempt to escape. Just wiggles in his seat a little, flushed from his shoulders to his hairline.

You’re two minutes into your journey home when Seokjin speaks.

“For the record,” he begins, “I do not want to be in this car with you.”

You roll your lips to keep from laughing. “No?”

“No,” he confirms. “I’m spoken for.”

“Congratulations,” you tell him, fondness seeping in between the syllables. “She must be a saint to put up with you.”

If Seokjin were sober, he’d shoot you A Look. Probably go yah, what does that mean! in that squawking loud voice and you would laugh as his ears turned red. But Seokjin is drunk, teetering on the edge of shitfaced, so he just lolls his head to the side, corners of his mouth tugging up in a shy smile not meant for you to see. “She is. I’m very lucky.”

Well, how the tables have turned. You feel your cheeks warm. “That’s gross,” you whisper to yourself, echoing Jimin’s words from earlier. Then, louder and to Seokjin, you reply, “I’m sure she feels the same.”

“She better,” he says. You can tell he’s exhausted, drifting in and out of sleep. “Imagine being as handsome as me and she didn’t. They’d write tragedies about it.”

You laugh. “Who is ‘they’?”

“You know,” Seokjin says, waving his hand around. “The tragedy people.”

“Ah, yeah, those guys,” you agree, but as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment building, you think he might be right.

Not loving Seokjin would be a tragedy.

[brainrotcharacters]

The Home I Choose

ship: Steven Grant x introvert!fem!reader

a/n: Steven wasn’t claimed by the Duat lmao u trippin. this is absolutely self indulgent. HIM AND HIS READING GLASSES.

unofficial part 2 because. just because.

tags: Steven and reader simp for each other, established relationship, reader writes to cope but can't write

--

The sound of his yelp stole your attention from your drafts.

"Forgot you were here," Steven laughs apologetically, fidgeting with the corner of the page he was reading. "Sorry."

He was sat at his desk, reading glasses low on his nose and desk lamp bright over the pages that discussed Egyptian gods. Today, it was less about keeping his memory sharp and more about maintaining a routine, considering it's been some days past since you two became an item and this was the longest you've stayed at his flat.

When he had started reading, his slouched shoulders were tight. A while later, from your seat on his bed, you recognized the shine of familiarity in his eyes, and he relaxed. When he spirals into the lore like this, Steven looked especially attractive - whether he was sharing to you or keeping to himself. Since he fell into his zone, you fell into yours, escaping into your sequences and dialogue after a rather draining day.

"I'm choosing to think of it as you becoming more comfortable with my presence." Steven's soft smile made something inside you swell with pride. "If you want, I can sit with you?"

"What about...?" he pointed vaguely to your work, and you gave a noncommittal shrug, already rising to your feet. The wooden floor bit the skin of your bare feet for a brief moment. "Alright. Let me get a chair."

"No, I got it." you knew what it was like to be thrown off rhythm. You were already eating away at his time.

"Allow me. Please." He stood so quickly and planted another chair beside his own. Then, he offered a gallant hand. "My lady."

"My love." you giggle fondly, accepting his hand. Steven guided you to your seat, and was just in time to take his place beside you when he noticed your expression change.

You could be with someone better. A protector, a defender of everything that involved you without question or reluctance. Not someone who was picked on by his boss and had more passion for Egyptology than everyone in that museum put together (not that there was much to compare to).

The words were spoken by the voices that filled your ears for most of today. Your folks disapproved of Steven, and you waited for them to say it word for word in order to justify the revenge you'd take in his name.

Steven closely, patiently watched you even when your eyes met his. "Hello."

I love you.

The unsaid words filled the space between you and him as he asks. "What is it?"

"They... they don't like you." kiss him, he's your boyfriend now anyway. No. Focus. "They struggle to understand why I'm with you. Well, we already talked about this, but--"

"We could stand to talk about it more. We're together."

Good God, when he's so sure of himself, you want to either lie down or fall on all fours.

To get back at him, you looked into his eyes and stared at his lips for a while longer. "They're not in love with you. I am."

Even as he blushed, Steven didn't look away. He faced you fully, leaning an arm on the backs of your chairs before placing his head on his arm. His fingers played with your let down hair. "I understand them, love. I can hardly believe it myself."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "But, are you? Comfortable with me, I mean?"

Steven studied your features with that admiration and thoughtfulness you still aimed to deserve. "I want to be."

"Same. Between the home I was born into, and the home I choose: you," you booped his nose with yours, and he grinned, giggling. He spoke like that when he tried to flirt. "You make me feel good simply by reading in silence. If we're going to talk about anything, let's talk about that, ha?"

Steven laughed. "You're literally the most gorgeous human being I've ever seen and-and met."

"And is now dating."

"And is now dating!" he exclaims, waving at the absurdity of the sentence. "You can't possibly be upset. Everyone can dream of having a crumb of the power you have over me."

In a sudden moment of ego, you shrug. "I'll allow it."

You occupy the remaining space on his desk, dipping your face into your crossed arms. A sigh of contentment slipped away from you, followed by Steven's warm hand massaging your shoulder.

His touch lifts after a while. When the sound of flipping pages filled your shared space, your eyes fluttered shut, feet reaching for his under the table.  Steven hooked an instep around your heel, softly tugging you close.

This position would hurt you when you wake up, but you always hurt anyway. Steven is right here, anyway.

--

EXCEPT HE’S NOT. IS HE, MCU? THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.  

[kadssp]

Is this how you make requests?

Rev x fem reader?? But fluff if possible? Please and thank you 💜

pairing: revenant x gn!reader

warnings: gn!reader, slight swearing, he’s as fluffy as he’s gonna get, wounds and blood is mentioned, implied established relationship

note: yes this is how you make a request and ty!! i love revenant <3 my original main fr. i intended to make this fem! but i left it open for all :) havent wrote fluff in a while so i hope its alright

word count: 736

The robotic huff of annoyance from in front of you only sours your mood further as you sit on the floor of a damaged building. Grenades have been thrown at you from every direction and you’re surprised the building hasn’t fallen already. It’s too silent for your liking and you’re set on edge as you scramble through your backpack in search of meds which are not there.

The bullet wounds in your legs make them throb in pain as your pants are soaked in the red liquid of your own blood as mud smears against the material. You really would prefer to be out there fighting them off so you feel safer and less trapped but with nothing to patch yourself up you’re just a sitting duck waiting to be taken out.

“What’s taking you so long?” He growls, those glowing eyes staring down at you with anger flickering in them as they scan over your hunched form on the floor. “Stop wasting time and patch yourself up, skin suit.”

“I would if I still had my phoenix kit that I dropped when someone shoved me into this building, Revenant.” Your brows furrow in both pain and anger as you hold a short staring contest that ends when he rolls his eyes and scoffs at you.

“You’re wasting my damn time.” He grumbles, crouching down in front of you as you give him a scowl and he pulls out a medkit, throwing it into your stomach enough to wipe the look off your face and take your breath away which he cackles at. “Hurry up, we don’t have all day, skinbag.”

Your hands tremble as you grab the small item, eyes losing focus from the blood loss you’ve had as you try to steady your movements and hold it against your forearm, fingers threatening to drop it as cool steel ones snatch it from your grasp with a growl and press it firmly against your arm. Your eyes struggle to look up at him and you find yourself wanting to laugh at how focused he looks as he examines the wounds in your legs before letting out another sigh.

“You’re gonna bleed out if you’re not careful out there.” “Oh, you care that much about me, Rev? How adorable.”

If he could give you a look of disgust he certainly would. Tightening his hold on your wrist seems to do the trick as you let out a breathy chuckle and push against his hand. Teasing him wouldn’t get you anywhere, if anything he would throw the medkit he just used you on across the room and leave you there to bleed out before you could reach it in time. That would’ve been a lucky mercy by the hands of Revenant though.

“Shut up, skin suit. I’m only doing this because we were teamed together.” You smile at him as his hands linger against the cuts and bruises littering your skin from the match you’re still in. He was going to hunt down who did this after the match is over and make them miserable.

“You’re so charming, Rev. It’s not because you like me right? That would be insane even for you.” You grin at him as he threatens to punch you, grabbing his fist and interlocking your fingers with his before he registers it. He’s shocked, considering you’re doing this as footsteps approach the two of you. How bold of you to do so to him of all simulacrums or other skin bags. He’ll never admit he likes the feeling of your hand warming his cold metal though.

The door to your left opens and your eyes widen, reaching for your gun but Revenant doesn’t budge as he lifts his wingman and aims over at the intruder not losing eye contact with you as a single bullet fires. Your heart beats loudly in your ears and you think you’ve died until you’re lifted off the floor and feel metal lips pressed against your forehead as an automated voice echos throughout the area.

“The winners have been decided.”