#and im prepared to take a Much longer time figuring it out this time

[erythristicbones]

i keep having some points of feeling mildly guilty about scripting another webcomic after putting my old one on indefinite hiatus but. idk man, i think it's gonna really work out this time around. im hesitantly letting myself get excited for it

[bucketbueckers]

ONLY MINE

pairing: azzi fudd x fem!reader

content: filth, azzi and reader are just down bad asf there's no real top just vibes, nipple play, ab riding, oral, teasing, freaked out as fuck, academic validation as aftercare, kinda short and not proofread 😕 i apologize to paige bueckers and paige bueckers only

wc: 5.3k

synopsis: After bombing your most recent thermodynamics quiz, you’ve been locked in and busy on practice sets and worksheets in preparation for the next one. Maybe a little too busy, in fact, because your girlfriend is feeling needy and neglected, and, well, who are you to deny her any longer?

notes: i am not an engineer. yes i spent 10 minutes scrolling through sample thermodynamics practice sets to find a word problem that appears once (1 time) in this fic. im not just committed to the bit. i am married to it. yaps aside, i am trying my hardest to be responsible and stay on top of my classes LMAO 😭 butttttt i hope you like this ⬇️ anon (and good luck on your finals goat)!! im working on time management so i definitely will not be writing as much as i used to but i am still chronically online. feel free to send in an anon to say hello but as always i hope y'all like this one and happy pazzi hard launch day to those who celebrate 🫶

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia. Determine the outlet temperature (F) and the specific entropy difference (Btu/lbm-R) between the outlet and the initial status. Assume steady state, steady flow, negligible heat transfer, and negligible changes in kinetic and potential energy.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hopelessly lost.

The word problem stares unblinkingly at you. You’ve been meticulously working through this problem set for the past five hours, only pausing to use the restroom, refill your water bottle (because apparently you hydrate really well when you don’t know what the fuck’s going on), and grab a healthy, energizing snack (a handful of Starburst), but it’s starting to feel like you’ve been staring at this worksheet for years.

You never really struggled this much with a class. Math, physics, chemistry, you name it – there was always a pattern that you were good at isolating and exploiting. It made solving problems a lot easier, but thermodynamics? Figuring it out was taking a lot out of you. To make matters worse, nothing seems to help, either. Not even your go-to tutors on YouTube who could explain quantum physics to a five year old with little difficulty.

At this point, you’re convinced it’s just some weird energy in the universe that has severed the connections between your brain cells. This couldn’t possibly be your fault. You bombed your thermodynamics quiz on Wednesday, which was strange because you’d walked into the lecture hall with the confidence of a man who was sure he knew where the clit was. Maybe you were a little tense – who wouldn’t be? You were juggling four classes, a TA position for a calculus course, and research into reaction engineering.

A heavy workload never deterred you, though. Not to the point of failing a quiz you thought you’d pass with flying colors. And nothing else had really changed for you either. Your routine was basically the same, you studied for the same amount of time, exercised and ate properly. Your girlfriend, Azzi, did have a string of away games that kept her out of Storrs for about a week and a half, but saying she’s the reason for your poor performance is kind of ridiculous, even if you do sleep better when it’s next to her or because she always listens to you ramble even if she has no idea what you’re talking about.

Now, Azzi is back, and she doesn’t have another away game for about two weeks. That’s a fact that would otherwise excite you, but you’re just trying to pass your classes. Your scholarship relies on your GPA, and without your scholarship, you might as well kiss UConn goodbye. You and Azzi were always intentional about understanding each other’s schedules. Basketball was demanding, possibly more demanding than engineering considering travel and recovery, so the both of you tried to maximize the amount of time you were able to spend together, even if it just consisted of Azzi quietly watching film next to you while you worked through your homework.

After burying your head in your hands, rubbing your temples, and reminding yourself of how sexy future you would look sitting courtside at one of Azzi’s WNBA games, chatting with the other WAGs like, “Oh, Dr. Fudd? Yes, that’s me,” you reach for your iPad with a deep sigh, rereading the word problem once more. Then you write down what you know. P₁ = 100 psia. P₂ = 20 psia.

Your hand stalls. You check the formula sheet, the swirl of letters and deltas and constants making your head ache. You blink again.

Your pen falls onto the couch cushion next to you as you heave another shuddering sigh, feeling like you’re about to crash out. You can’t fathom why this is so difficult for you.

Azzi’s voice is sudden, soft – it would otherwise startle you if you weren’t ready to be swallowed up by the ground and never return to earth. “I think you need a break,” she says, her voice coming from somewhere behind you, and you can hear the gentle footfalls of her sock-clad feet as she makes her way closer to you. Her hands find your shoulders, kneading gently, and you sigh again – this time in relief – as you melt into the couch.

“Can’t,” you mutter, grunting when her thumb catches on one of the knots. “I’ve already taken like…a million just from zoning out and losing my mind. Wasted enough time.”

You don’t have to see her face to visualize the amused, if not slightly concerned smile gracing her lips. “Are you not also wasting time by forcing yourself to work when it’s getting you nowhere?” she murmurs, her lips closer to your ear now. For that, you truly have no rebuttal, and she presses a lingering kiss to the edge of your jaw. Humming to yourself, you tilt your head, baring your throat, and her lips trace a deliberate path down the curve of your neck.

Her hands leave your shoulders, smoothing down your chest, and you intertwine your fingers together, getting lost in the heady scent of her perfume. You’d missed her – you really did. You and Azzi have been together long enough that you’re used to her having to travel a lot, but sometimes, it takes a little bit longer for your body to catch up and get the memo, too.

“Take a break,” Azzi whispers, her tone pleading, edged with a sort of neediness that makes you want to give in. You almost do – the warmth of her lips against your skin and the weight of her hands over your chest turning your brain into mush. “Let me take care of you. You’ve been so busy lately. You’re wearing yourself out.”

The first part of her statement has you ready to turn off your laptop and give Azzi whatever she wants from you. But the second? All it does is remind you about the quiz you’d just failed, the fact you have another quiz in less than a week, and how you’re not any closer to understanding the material. It sobers you instantly.

“Later,” you whisper, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend time with Azzi – God, it’s all you’ve wanted to do since she got back to Storrs, but you knew you’d just fall into shitty time management problems if you didn’t get your work done.

“Babe,” Azzi complains, her tone exasperated and needy all at once. Her grip on you tightens ever so slightly, leaning fully against the couch to press her cheek to your temple. You fall back into her, your eyes slipping shut despite yourself.

“Sorry, Az,” you say apologetically, turning your head slightly to kiss the closest patch of skin you can reach, which happens to be the hinge of her jaw. She sighs softly, then brushes her lips across your forehead before releasing you. You miss the contact immediately but she makes her way to the front of the couch and sits down on the cushion next to you. Intertwining your fingers to get her attention, you squeeze her hand gently. She glances over, doe eyes wide, simmering with a heat and want that makes your stomach flip. “Let me finish this problem, then I’m yours. I promise.”

She crosses one leg over her knee, a petulant expression on her face as she sinks into the cushions. “Better be worth it, Dr. Fudd,” she grumbles, which makes you smile a little. You plant a chaste, innocent kiss on her lips, smirking when she chases after you. You release her, reaching for your pen and your iPad again, but you swear you hear her muttering under her breath, “Cockblocked by an engineering assignment. This is what I get for dating a smart person.”

Her indignance and impatience amuses you, which just motivates you to finish this problem as quickly as you can. You start over again, rereading the problem and isolating the facts that you know. You check your formula sheet again, struggling to find the one you need given what you have and what variable you want to solve for. All the while, you can feel Azzi’s gaze on you, dark and beseeching. It honestly makes it difficult to focus – knowing you have your very needy girlfriend sitting on the couch next to you and begging for one ounce of attention, but you know she’ll thank you later when you’re a super rich engineer and you build her a custom library in the house you’ll share together.

(Granted, she’ll be a super rich baller, so she wouldn’t exactly be hurting financially without you and she could get the library, but as long as you were around, you were committed to ensuring that Azzi wouldn’t have to lift a finger.)

Azzi allows you to struggle in peace. You make zero progress, just as she predicted. You read a few pages in your textbook. You watch a YouTube video on the process and still, you get nowhere. Already feeling a little frustrated, you try another approach.

But then Azzi’s palm finds your thigh. It breaks your focus immediately – not like it wasn’t already hanging by a thin thread – and you glance over at her, one brow raising in amusement. She doesn’t look the least bit remorseful about distracting you; in fact, she’s wearing a smug little smile that breaks down all of your defenses. “You promised, Az,” you remind her.

“You promised, too,” she declares. The confusion must be clear on your face because she explains, “Girlfriend code. You have a duty to give me attention.”

“Oh, do I?” you echo, biting your lip to stifle a smile.

Azzi’s dead serious, though. Her eyes meet yours, temptation laced in her pupils, a pout tugging at her lips. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to stand your ground against that, but you have to pretend to have some sort of academic responsibility.

“You do,” she confirms. “Agreed to it when you said you loved me, in fact.”

“I wasn’t aware that was in the fine print,” you respond, tangling your fingers with hers before she has the chance to inch her palm further up your thigh.

Azzi narrows her eyes at you. “Well, it is,” she insists. “And I want you.”

“Is that what this is about?” you murmur teasingly. “My girl needs me?”

Azzi nods, her expression a devastating mix of hopeful and needy, and it makes you ache. But you glance down at your iPad, at the word problem staring back at you — unsolved — and you hate yourself for what you do next.

You kiss her again, your free hand reaching to cup her jaw, and she melts into you instantly. You draw back just before it grows too intense, murmuring, “After this problem.” You’re sure that Azzi almost fucking growls, her brows drawing together tightly. In any other situation, you’d find it endearing, but you can’t help but feel guilty. You have work to do, and you know that Azzi wouldn’t let you rest until the sun is in the sky again. “Sorry, baby.”

But Azzi is out of rationale — and patience. She leans away from you long enough to shut the lid of your laptop on the coffee table, then she yanks your iPad out of your hands. It lands somewhere on the far end of the couch as your pen clatters harmlessly onto the floor, rolling somewhere out of view, and you hardly have the time to react before Azzi straddles you in one quick motion. Her lips are on yours immediately. You gasp, hands reaching out to grip her hips, and she swallows the moan that tumbles from your mouth.

Her hands are around your neck, drawing you in closer to her, yours roaming across her sculpted thighs, tightening in the loose fabric of her shorts. They ride up on her legs the more she presses against you and you take advantage of the miles upon miles of tanned skin laid before you. It makes you keen, sighing into her mouth, and Azzi slips her tongue inside, brushing against yours.

It’s all heat from there — Azzi’s hips roll against yours in a slow, methodical grind, her fingers trailing down your chest to tangle in the hem of your shirt. She breaks away from your mouth, lips swollen, spit-slick and urgent as she mutters, “Off, please.”

You don’t have the words to deny her, not that you would in the first place. Not when you can feel the heat of her core against your thigh, the dampness that’s seeped through her underwear and shorts all at once. Pulling away from her, you raise your arms, allowing her to pull your shirt off, intent on getting your hands back on her, but Azzi stops you with a palm to your chest — your bare chest, having neglected a bra for comfort that morning. 

Her eyes are glazed over, pupils dark and wanting. The way she stares shamelessly would make you feel insecure and vulnerable if you weren’t able to read the desire in her features, the way her jaw goes slack at the sight of you. It’s not new — Azzi has seen you in various states of undress over the course of your relationship. A sheer bikini on cruises, in nothing but her jersey and a flimsy pair of her boxers, or as naked as the day you were born. It doesn’t matter how many times Azzi has sat upon your lap with your breasts cupped in her hands like she’s holding the world in her palms – she thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and if you had any sensibility, you’d probably ask, “Has she seen herself?”

Not wanting to be alone in your nakedness, you reach for the hem of Azzi’s shirt, glancing up at her through your lashes for permission. She nods quickly and you don’t waste anymore time before pulling the dark blue shirt off of her, your own jaw going slack as you take her in. She’s all muscles and tanned skin, firm sinew in most places yet soft in others. You want to get your hands on her immediately, so you do – pressing heatedly against her stomach, grazing her belly piercing and the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against you like you can’t get enough of her skin against yours.

She reaches for your wrists to pull your hands off of her body. You make a noise of protest, but she silences you with a deep kiss, insistent and hungry as she shifts to the side, tugging you down on top of her now as she positions herself against the pillows and the armrest at the end of the couch. The change has your head spinning, especially when Azzi pushes her knee between your legs, the muscle of her thigh dragging against your clit in a way that’s almost devastating.

Your entire body is pulsing, suddenly aware of the need building in your body. It feels like it’s taken root in your bones. Like all you’ve needed these past few weeks were Azzi, not anything else. And judging by the way her fingers slip under the waistband of your sweatpants, pressing firm against your skin and tugging the restricting material down? Azzi is more than willing to give herself to you – in whatever way you need it.

You try to grind down onto Azzi’s thigh, searching for the contact, but she takes your hips in your hands, perching you precariously over her body, only inches away from what you need. You break away from her lips long enough to brush your mouth across her jaw, finding her ear to beg, “Please, Az, need it.”

A smirk curls her lips, slow and smug. The tables are turned now – she’d spent so long asking for you to put your assignment down, and now you’re the one pleading for her to touch you. Azzi is a competitor by nature. You may never truly understand how much she enjoys watching you break beneath her.

“Where have I heard that one before?” she murmurs, dragging heated kisses across your chest, lips wrapping around a nipple as you open your mouth. Your next words get caught in your throat, a moan taking its place, and you curl a hand around Azzi’s neck, pulling her closer to you.

“‘M sorry, baby,” you gasp in between stuttered breaths, your hips twitching when she bites gently at your bud. Azzi hums against you, sending vibrations up your spine as your body arches into her mouth and her wandering hands. Remembering where you are, you allow your hands to drop from Azzi’s neck down to her waist, fingers hooking into the band of her shorts. “Lemme make it up to you,” you plead, trembling with need. You want so badly to pull these shorts off of her, but she hasn’t given you the all clear yet. You may be the one on top and the one who wants to please her, but if she wasn’t going to allow you, there was little you could do.

“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” Azzi mumbles instead, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and one of her hands reaches up to rub the spit across the bud while her lips trail to the other one, biting gently to make you shudder. Your breath catches, hips still hovering overs hers. “Dripping all over me while I take my time. Do you think I could?”

“Fuck,” you whimper, arching into her hands again, moaning when she pinches you with the right amount of pressure to send white hot desire to your core. Your head falls onto her shoulder, fingers abandoning her waistband to brace yourself against the couch cushion for stability. “Whatever you want, Az, just make me come – please.”

It wouldn’t take much. You’re already worked up, both from Azzi’s efforts and the stress of the week melting away into something softer. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed this – the break away from your homework to breathe and just be. But you feel Azzi’s smile growing against your skin, her tongue poking out from her lips to circle your nipple, before she whispers, “Another time, maybe,” and she pulls you onto her bare stomach.

The first press feels like fire. It punches a gasp out of you, pleasure and relief coursing through your veins in simultaneous streams. Azzi’s abs are firm, inviting, and you rut against them desperately, needing to get off. Your aching clit catches against the piercing on her navel and a wrecked moan spills from your lips. Azzi’s muscles contract, providing you with a harsher slide, and your eyes all but roll into the back of your head when she carefully bites down on your nipple, her fingers rolling the other.

The free hand not occupied with your chest curls around your waist, helping pull you down against her. Eventually, Azzi begins to control your pace as you’re struggling to keep yourself up, and the sensations are overwhelming in the best way possible. You’re impossibly wet, sliding against Azzi’s stomach with little resistance, angling your hips to get the best friction against your clit. You wrap your arms around her neck, tears pooling in your eyes because it feels so good, and holding on is all you can do, moaning breathlessly into her ear.

Azzi pulls away from your chest with a wet noise, her lips swollen and slick, eyes glazed over with want. It makes you breathless for an entirely different reason now. You’re the only person who gets to see Azzi like this, needy and determined to make you fall apart. You were the first, but to know that you’re also the last? You will your hips into a firmer grind, the slight possessiveness making your head spin.

But then she releases you, something dark, smug, but also reverent clouding her expression. “Take it,” she murmurs, leaning back against the armrest slightly. She’s no longer holding you up by the hips, but her hand lingers at your chest, tweaking and pulling your bud until it juts out firmly, wet with her spit. “You wanted this so bad? Show me. Take it.”

Groaning, you tighten your grip on her shoulders, pressing yourself further against her body for stability as you rock into her. Her face is screwed up, sweat beading at her temples, and you can’t be sure if it’s from the heat of the room or from the sheer determination of clenching her abs. Either way, you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to hers, swallowing her indulgent moan as you chase your high. 

Her piercing catches against your clit again, causing you to lose your rhythm momentarily. Azzi bites your lip once in warning as she orders, “Faster.” Your thighs and core burns from the exertion, but the desire coursing through your veins motivates you. When your pace returns to her liking, she rewards you with a blinding smile and a “So good for me, baby. You wanna come?”

You nod shakily against her, forehead pressing into hers, and she kisses you once more – slow, lingering, filthy like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste when you’re desperate for her. Azzi takes your hips in her hands again and she aids in your rhythm, pulling you onto her harshly, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm until a cry rips from your throat. “So close, Az,” you whine, meeting her eyes. They’re more black than brown, her pupils blown wide, and the sheer need reflected there makes you weak. “Please, please, please, Azzi.”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her voice dangerously sweet compared to the way she’s dragging you across her stomach. “Take what you need. Gonna give it to you, you know that.”

And that’s all you need. You rut against her once more, twice, your jaw dropping with pleasure, body tingling as you fall apart over her. You press your lips to hers to silence your cries and she swallows each and every whimpered sound like it energizes her. She’s still guiding you, her movements slowing now, letting you ride out the aftershocks as you come back down to earth. You’re a little boneless, your forehead pressing to her clavicle, and she ghosts a kiss across your temple as she rubs your back soothingly.

Clearly, Azzi can’t seem to help herself, because she presses a smile to the crown of your head as she jokingly mutters, “So much better than homework, right?”

You roll your eyes, laughing, and you try to not think too hard about the fact that your throat feels scratchy and rough. “Much better,” you agree, feeling the weightlessness and ease seep into your bones, something deliciously heavy and comforting that makes you feel refreshed. New. “You’re so needy. Couldn’t wait twenty minutes.”

Azzi gasps indignantly. “I’ve waited like, two weeks!” she exclaims, nudging you halfheartedly. “A girl has needs, you know.” She says this last part with a snooty raise of her nose, which makes you shake your head, giggling again as you press a chaste, innocent kiss to her lips. She chases after you when you pull away, but the distance makes her eyes narrow, brows pulling together like she’s just realized something. “You couldn’t wait either. It was all ‘please, Azzi,’ this, ‘make me come, Azzi,’ that. You’re dirty.”

That makes you lean away from her, disbelief in your features. “Me?” you echo, aghast, fully aware that the both of you are arguing like toddlers at this point. “You’re dirty. You made me ride your abs–” Azzi raises a challenging brow which has you backtracking immediately. “Okay, I don’t know about made me. That was really hot, by the way.” You punctuate your point with another kiss, one that lasts not nearly long enough so you can get back to the point you were trying to make. “Also, you should probably disinfect your piercing.” Azzi hums, arms curling around your waist, and she ghosts her lips across your collarbone as you continue to defend yourself. “Either way, you’re still dirty.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything. She glances at you with an amused grin, then glances down at her stomach, where she glistens from a mixture of your slick and her sweat. Mostly your arousal, though. A flush creeps up your neck at the sight. You hadn’t registered how soaked she was. Having made her point, she swipes her finger through the mess, raising it to the light as if inspecting it. “You did this and I’m the dirty one?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, but the corners of your lips quirk up with amusement. Her smile softens, but morphs into one of confusion when you slide down her body, knees pressing into the cushions in between her legs. “Let me make it up to you?” you offer, palming her thighs, fingers slipping under the waistband of her shorts once more. You can tell that her breathing has picked up, her mood shifting as easily as you crawled down.

“Yes, please,” she affirms, lifting her hips to help you pull her shorts and boxers down in one quick motion. You groan to yourself when her cunt is revealed to you – she’s soaked, her arousal having seeped into the cotton of her boxers, and you press a quick kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never,” you lie, and then tease her anyways. You avoid her cunt completely, opting to lick a thick stripe across her stomach, gathering the slick pooled there on your tongue.

It makes her hips jump up, her voice pitched and a little breathless with shock as she mutters, “Shit, baby…” You smile to yourself, glancing up at her through your lashes, taking in her wrecked expression and the way her pupils are blown wide. Azzi is gripping onto the couch cushion like she’s teetering on the edge of falling apart already.

You don’t stop until her stomach is clean. Before you can settle between her thighs again, she grabs you by the shoulders, hauling you up until she can kiss you again. Azzi deepens the kiss immediately, her tongue searching for yours, for the taste of you, and the moans greedily as you squeeze her hips.

When she breaks away for air, her chest is heaving, and she looks ruined, ready for you to give her what she’s been craving for two weeks. You plant a farewell kiss at the edge of her jaw before trailing your lips down her body, sucking hickeys into her skin, soothing each one with your tongue.

Finally, you reach her cunt, and the sight of her spread out before you makes your mouth water. She tangles her fingers through your hair, guiding you closer, and you don’t make her wait any longer before you kiss her clit gently, smiling when her hips buck. Your tongue swipes through her soaked folds, her body shuddering when you moan indulgently into her, and you wrap your arms around her thighs to keep her stabilized.

You fuck her like you’re starved – which you may as well be. Your nose brushes against her sensitive clit with every motion you make, making her cry out, her hand pushing you to the spot she likes as if you don’t know her body like the back of your hand. Still, you listen to the direction, allowing her to pull your head towards her clit. You suck it into your mouth, cheeks hollowing from the pressure, rubbing the broad side of your tongue over it when she moans softly.

Her thighs enclose around your head, the pleasure causing her hips to buck wildly, and this? You could die here, in between her legs, and you wouldn’t even be able to think of a better way to go out. Azzi’s cries are like music to your ears, her taste like nectar.

When her fingers tighten in your hair, her hips beginning to gyrate in search of her high, you press a little further into her, allowing her to grind against your tongue. Your hands rub soothing patterns against her abdomen, eyes slipping shut at the sound of her moans, and before you know it, she’s whining, “Close, baby.”

You take her free hand in yours, squeezing gently as her body trembles, and she holds onto you as she comes, her body melting into the couch cushions as you work her slowly, helping her come back down. You know Azzi gets oversensitive fast, so you listen for her cues, letting up on her when it becomes too much. Drawing back, you plant one last kiss to her thigh, her navel, her collarbone, then to her lips, where you feel her smile grow against you.

You smooth out her hair by her forehead where a few of the strands have escaped from the tie. Her eyes blink open, her gaze impossibly tender, her smile soft. It makes you fall a little bit further in love with her, which is probably a feat in and of itself. “Okay?” you whisper.

She turns her head to kiss your wrist. “Okay,” she confirms, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you flush against her. Then, in a quieter tone of voice, she confesses, “Missed you.”

You kiss her cheek, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. “Missed you too, Az,” you respond. “Never travel for two weeks ever again.”

She laughs gently, her nails skirting across your skin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The both of you fall into a calm silence until you break it. “I’m sorry I neglected you,” you say genuinely, feeling a little remorseful. “I just wanted to get my work done, but I think I got a little too obsessive about it. You were right to say I wasn’t getting anywhere with it.”

“You know I understand your schedule,” Azzi says softly. “You have a lot to do. I just needed you.” She doesn’t say much else – and she doesn’t need to. That’s just the truth.

You smile a little as you kiss her jaw. “I know,” you murmur. “I’ll do better.”

She tightens her arms around you. “Good. You can start by helping me into the bathtub and ordering takeout.”

That makes you laugh, your nose brushing against her cheek. “Yes, ma’am.” The room goes quiet again, nothing but the gentle hum of the AC and your breathing filling the space. The drag of Azzi’s fingers against your skin lulls you into a sense of peace, the pressure alleviating from your shoulders, and –

You pause. Your eyes blink open, your gaze falling onto your iPad. Pressure?

Saturated liquid water enters an orifice at a pressure of 100 psia and is throttled to a lower pressure of 20 psia–

You close your eyes in disbelief, the gears in your brain turning at rapid speed. You’re so fucking dumb.

“Az,” you murmur. She hums, letting you know she’s listening. “Can I start a little later?”

“What?” she mutters, but you’re already reaching over to the coffee table, grabbing your iPad and the pen that had rolled under the table leg. Azzi sighs dramatically as she watches you open it, but she presses a smile to the crown of your head as you work through the calculations. It only takes you about a minute, but you circle your answer with finality, latching the pen to the magnet on the device and closing it. “An orgasm was all it took to get that brain working, huh?”

“Maybe,” you admit a little sheepishly.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she says with faux indignance, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

And all you can do is stare at her, a soft little smile on your face. Because you are. You really, really are.

[kurgy]

having to make this sucks when i wasnt even planning to move, but when trying to renew my lease, my landlord increased my rent exponentially, and i can no longer afford to live here. i essentially have 2 months to find somewhere affordable to move as there is no one able to take me or my dogs in currently. the base price of my rent was increased to $1070 officially now, and that on top of constantky fluctuating utilities and electricity, internet, etc., my shitty 1 bedroom is now over $2000 a month. i cannot afford this, i am disabled and currently experiencing some serious health complications on a federally fixed income that elon musks fake department is trying to be rid of and its fucking up every aspect of trying to receive and keep benefits. my only option right now is to move.

ive found several possible places to look at, my biggest hurdle if i find an affordable place in time is any application fees ranging from it looks like $40 to $60, deposits are the biggest chunk, pet deposits, and extra fees, on top of the costs of moving in general; a truck, boxes, tape, etc., i can cover some of this after i pay my last months rent, but even after paying my current rent im left with at best $5 in my account for the month to work around. i was honestly not expecting to or prepared to move at all. i figured my rent would increase, i just was not expecting how much our new management would increase it (neither were any of my neighbors apparently lmao??) and i just cant afford to stay here once my lease is up july 31st.

literally any help is appreciated, any. im worried, and stressed, any help would mean the world while trying to figure everything out.

i have some links if any can or would like to help

Paypal.me/kurgyy

venmo @ kurgy

cashapp $kurgyyy

and i also have a Patreon you can join for as little as $1 a month for access to wips, illustrations, full speedpaints, animations, etc.,

[thetrueressii]

finally got around to drawing saint and you have no idea how much story i have for them prepared

some stuff i didnt get to write down is that arti and saint traveled when arti's kids were still alive, but they went their separate ways with saint promising to come find them

if i were to do a comic for the au, it would revolve around saint, arti, and hunter with saint following the footsteps of arti to follow through on their promise

i also figured out how i want karma and dying works in this au so ye ill put that under the cut if you wanna know about that lol

basically im going on like elden ring rules of some sort of force is constantly bringing things back to life, but time still passes, so if a creature died, they would come back somewhere after X amount of days/cycles

the more karma a creature had, the longer it takes, with karma 1 to 5 corresponding with a respawn time of 1 to 5 cycles

after karma 5 though, the respawn time begins to ramp up significantly with near max karma leading to respawn times of months if not years

most of the characters would be karma 1 to maybe just barely to 5 and is more correspondent with a spiritual karma rather than rw's in game karma of "how many days youve survived"

[pancake-flipper]

𝐁𝐚𝐭-𝐀𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 Intro

Platonic! Batfam x reader ❤

Info: An introduction into what I hope becomes a series. Bat-Aunt, and her adventures with the Batfamily. This is one of the darker this I’ll write for this, the rest should just be more WFA vibes.

Warnings: parental death, blood, I think that’s it.

(not my art)

Bat-Aunt reader! Who was born into a life of luxury and comfort, with an older brother, loving parents, and the world best butler.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who was only six when her whole world got flipped upside down in the alleyway behind the movie theater. Who huddled up in her brothers arms--a boy only eight years old himself--for hours before anyone came for them, just staring down at the pooling blood of her parents and the scattered pearls of her mothers necklace.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who slept in Bruce’s room for weeks following that night. Something Bruce didn’t mind in the slightest, because it meant that he could keep an eye on what little he felt he had left.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who only ever talked to Bruce in public for years, but learned to laugh and joke freely again within a year of the incident--perhaps it was because she was so young--, often found rambling to Alfred as he prepared dinner.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who doesn't remember much about life before the inccident, other than the fact that things were happier, that her and Bruce were thick as thieves, and there was much less to worry about.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who can no longer remember the sound of her mothers laugh, or the feeling of her fathers hand ingulfing her smaller one, and who honestly would have forgotten what her parents look like all together if it weren’t for the old photos of them littered around the manor.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who was the first to protest when Bruce decided to become the Dark Night. Who refused to talk to him for days, mumbling about how “Gotham wasn’t worth it.” or “im not losing anyone else to this crap."

Bat-Aunt reader! Who finally excepted it after a while, knowing Bruce is far to stubborn to change his mind, but will never approve.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who’s entire world flips back around when Bruce brings Dick home for the first time, immediately finding a new purpose for living other than other than helping to run Wayne Enterprises and taking care of her stupid brother.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who reads in the news that Batman has a new sidekick, and has a level nine crash-out when she quickly connects the dots that Bruce has been taking Dick out as Robin.

Cue the yelling as Dick sits in the corner with Alfred watching.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who loves ever kid that Bruce brings home instantly, but was hesitant with Tim because of what happened to Jason.

Bat-Aunt reader! Whos not a vigilante, but would totally go out and crack some skulls, should the boys ever be in trouble.

It’s giving a mom whos baby is stuck under a car or something, and they pull out the strength of a hundred men and yeat the car into another dimension.

Bat-Aunt reader! Who doesn’t like Gotham. In fact, she hates it, but shes could never leave, not when her family was so dead set on dying for this place.

A/N: Feel free to Reblog if you want. I hope to make another thing for this, but ngl I’ve been on Tumblr for like 6 months and your girl is still trying to figure some stuff out.

[pombeom]

okay never rlly done this before but here me out, txt fic inspired by "guess" by charli xcx and billie eilish. i dont have a member preference but i based it on tae (›´ω`‹ ) HERE ME OUT roomatetyunx reader. txt and reader's friend group decide to go out for dinner/clubbing. reader has secretly been liking tae for a WHILE, and THIS WAS THE NIGHT. and reader puts on a very VERY short skirt/dress (they know what they were doing) and purposely leans down when tae is behind them *evil laughs*

(also imagined it as afab but idrc)

sorry i dont have anything else to add but you now have the reins (๑˘ꇴ˘๑)

guess | taehyun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: domroommate!taehyun x subtease!reader

warnings: soobin present at the start, lots of mentions of underwear, teasing, fingering, scissoring, wall sex, creampie, squirting, messy sex, taehyun is kinda kinky, panty stuffing, mentions of exhibitionism, they both have sex while standing up, taehyun gives orders and reader follows, nicknames (baby, slut), unprotected sex, lots of dirty talking, am i forgetting something??

a/n: thank you so much for your request! decided to go with taehyun cos i could envision your request so clearly. you guys are such teases istg but im all here for it 🤧

Being Taehyun’s roommate isn’t for the weak. The way he’s come back after his daily workouts in his compression shirts with his hair pushed back made your knees quiver every time he would walk in through the door. You swore it was a secret you guarded with your life but everyone around you seemed to know of your little crush. Your friends managed to catch on as soon as they witnessed your head swivel whenever he’d walk past, staring a little too longingly in his direction. 

“Y/n you should just tell him at this point. I can’t watch you drool over him any longer, it’s gross,” Soobin advises you on your way out from class. 

“No but what if doesn’t feel the same way?” 

“Trust me. He does. And if he doesn’t then that’s his loss. I’ll bag you up if he doesn’t want you,” his wink had you reacting with a disgusted scowl.

“Anyway, we’re meeting up for dinner this Saturday. One of our friends has had to cancel last minute so there’s an extra space in the reservation. Wanna come? Taehyun’s coming too you know. Maybe you can finally tell him how you feel.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh come on. We’re heading the the club after. It’ll be fun.” 

“Fine. Only because you insisted.” 

“You don’t need to lie to me. I know you’re only coming cos Taehyun’s coming.” 

“Shut up.” 

By the time Saturday evening rolls up, you had planned your outfit and gone through your confession speech multiple times. You finished your hair and makeup and slipped into a black mini dress that was slightly too short but it hugged your figure so well that you wanted to show off as much as you can. You pair it with a black kitten heel, preparing for your time at the club later that night. But most importantly, your needy cunt was exposed through the black lace underwear you wore under your tiny dress. 

Feeling a sense of feigned confidence, you step out of your room, heading into your shared living space where Taehyun was waiting. He’s sat sprawled across the armchair, taking up the entire seat as he manspread whilst scrolling through his phone. Upon hearing the clacking of your heels, his head jolts up taking in your presence. He eyes your naked thighs, feeling the sharpness of his gaze lasering through your legs making your knees go weak. 

“You look nice,” his compliment has your confidence crumbling as you instantly resort back to your usual shyness. 

“Thank you,” your voice comes out more strained than you wanted but this was a reaction to the current wetness building up in your folds as you begin to notice the way his shirt clings to his body, looking almost see-through under his brown jacket. 

“You ready to go?” 

He follows you to the door when suddenly you pause.

“Hang on. Just need to fix my heels. The strap is a little loose.” 

You arch forward, bending down to reach your shoes as the back of your dress rides up. You felt exposed as your underwear was evidently wet but you sought the thrill of provoking a reaction from the man behind you. Even as you were still bent down fumbling with your straps, you felt his gaze staring heavily into your core, past the black lace fabric. 

“Ok, I’m done. We can go now.” 

You hand barely reaches the doorknob before you’re being pulled back into his chest. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

“Mhm?? What do you mean?” 

“Playing dumb won’t work on me.” 

“I don’t get it. What are you talking about?” You kept egging him on with your masquerade of innocence, each step getting him a little further to your desired goal. 

“You’re still gonna keep going with that? Even after you flashed your underwear to me?”

“What? I did that? Really? I bet you don’t even know the colour of my underwear.”

“Oh baby, I don’t even have to guess. I saw that black lace with my very own eyes. That little bow was cute too.” 

You hadn’t noticed until you felt his breath against your neck but he has inched closer to you, his arms slowly crawling up your legs, grabbing onto your waist. Your cheeks burned from the closeness you had been longing for. 

“You wanna tell me you did that on purpose or are you gonna keep pretending that you flashed me by accident?” His voice grumbled, echoing through the chambers of your mind. 

Your breath was shaky and unstable as you managed to answer his question, “It was on purpose, Taehyun.”

Before you knew it, his lips came crashing onto your, sucking the life out of you. The lustful kiss had you moaning into his mouth as his tongue darts into yours, claiming you for himself. 

“I knew it. Now take those panties off.” 

Lifting your dress up, you slip your underwear down, letting it fall to the ground as the wetness begins dripping down your legs.

“Shit, look at you. Fucking drenched already. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this: wanting to strip naked in front of me just so I can get a look at how much of a slut you are for me. Am I right?” 

“You’re righ- ahh!” 

His fingers circle your entrance before you get then chance to finish, teasing your hole. Before long, he pushes in 2 long fingers, struggling to keep going in your tight, clenched pussy. 

“God, are you a virgin? You’re so fucking tight.” He groans as he manages to get his fingers deep into your core, feeling the tightness squeeze his digits. 

“Mhmm… I am. Wanted your cock to be the first inside me.” 

“Fucking hell. You’ve been waiting for me all this time huh? Guess I’ll have to give you everything you’ve dreamed of.” 

His fingers scissor you walls, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. The way your muscles are pulled sends shock waves running down your leg, almost losing sensation in them as you’re on the verge of collapsing, gripping onto Taehyun’s shoulders for support. 

“I want your dick in me. Now!” You demand. 

“Why so desperate? You’ve been such a tease and you won’t even let me finger your cunt. But ok, I’ll give it to you. Just don’t expect me to go easy.” 

He unzips his trousers, pulling them down along with his boxers in one go. He strips himself of his jacket, remaining only in his white form-fitting t-shirt. 

His cock springs up onto his stomach. The tip is red while his length is girthy and long beyond average, the veins matching the ones that run up his forearms. He teases your hole by pumping just the tip in making you grind against him, hips rolling as you force yourself onto him. 

He pushes your back up against the wall, controlling your movement before slamming straight into your gummy walls, your moans shrieking out from surprise. 

“Fuck Taehyun! Keep going like that!”

His movements are controlled and precise, making sure to hit the g-spot with each pump. Your moans become uncontrollable with the increase in speed, crying as he slams into your repeatedly, abusing your cunt. 

He then lifts up your thigh, holding it against his waist, allowing him to hit different angles making your mind feel fuzzy at the new sensation. 

“Fuck. If you keep clenching round my cock like that, I might cum already.” His grunts are disheveled and all over the place as he begins to lose control over his speed, rutting into you like some dog. 

“I’m gonna cum too. Please. Please come in me.” Your whispers are the only sound that comes out you as your voice has cracked with all the screams you let out.

He spills his spurts inside you, coating your walls in white as you feel his dick throbbing inside your trembling pussy. Your orgasm hit like the ocean onto the rocks, the speed at which you came leading to a spray of liquid to shoot out. Your eyes instantly shut, feeling exhausted from being fucked out to your climax. 

“You squirted?” 

“I guess I did.” 

After letting your body cool down from the intensity, you pick up your panties, getting ready to slip them back on, when Taehyun’s voice hisses at you, grabbing your underwear from your hands before shoving them up your stretched hole, pushing it in deeper and deeper until it remains stuck in your sobbing cunt.

“Let’s see how you tease everyone else looking like this.” 

“But Taehyun, it was only meant for you. I can’t go out like this. Let me out them back on, please” 

“Only for me huh? You only want me to see you in this state?” 

You nod frantically, “You’re the one I like Taehyun.” 

“The little brat likes me. Well I like you too. Your pussy was made for my cock and you take it so well. But you still deserved to be punished for teasing me like that. Keep the underwear stuffed in your pussy and go put on another pair.”

Following his orders, you head back to your room, picking out some pink panties, feeling the black lace slipping out. You push it back in and secure it in place by hitching the pink pair up high. You waddle back to Taehyun who was now fully dressed again. Your legs feel uncomfortably shaky as you walk but his arms hold your waist, supporting you. He bends down checking that you’ve followed his orders, grinning with satisfaction as he catches a glimpse of the pinkx

“Good girl. Now no one can guess what you have going on under there but me.” 

[joaosnovia]

HELLLO TIS I

okay so no.1 the theme ate SO HARD??? im drooling and i am on my KNEES

anyhow here to req a joao fic !!

so like what if reader is a ballerina or figure skater and she obvs comes home with like cuts and bruises from training and comps and stuff and basically joao makes thee BIGGEST fuss over it

like it can be treated with time but no. that man will bring a whole medic bag to treat the TINIEST cut and will overreact to every single injury she has !

this is so shitty but i requested this to someone else *uhm uhm evelina uhm uhm* and she has NOT written it yet so i'm frolicking here

you can ignore this if you want bc the idea is shit but yeah idk i js wanted to req something

BYEYEYYE HAVE A GOOD DAY / NIGHT AND ILYYYYY <33

MWAHHHH

❦ - delicate.

summary:: well there isn’t much to summarise bro 💔.

warnings:: none?

writers notes:: first and foremost i love this req and im tryna make my fics longer but idk how to drag it on yk? but i think if somewhat figured it out! ALSO EVE I MANAGED TO DO IT BEFORE YOU 👅👅👅👅👅👅👅.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb

joão swore he almost had a heart attack the first time he saw them.

the tiny, angry red cuts littering your feet and ankles, some fading into soft pink scars, others fresh from your last competition. you had always told him ballet was tough, that it wasn��t just twirling around in pretty dresses, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

you were sitting on the couch, legs stretched over his lap, casually scrolling through your phone like nothing was wrong. meanwhile, he was staring at your feet like they had personally offended him.

‘what the hell is this?’ he blurted out, his fingers hovering over one particularly deep cut near your ankle.

you glanced at him, unfazed. ‘what’s what?’

‘this,’ he practically whined, gesturing wildly at your feet. ‘why do you look like you’ve been fighting for your life?’

you snorted. ‘joão, relax. they’re just cuts from my pointe shoes. they’ll heal.’

‘heal?’ he repeated, horrified. ‘how long have they been like this?’

you shrugged. ‘i don’t know. it happens all the time.’

his jaw dropped. ‘all the time?’

you sighed, putting your phone down. ‘it’s normal, babe. every ballerina deals with it. my feet just need time to recover between competitions.’

joão wasn’t hearing any of it.

‘this isn’t normal. this is self-destruction. why didn’t you tell me?’

‘because i knew you’d react like this.’

he scoffed. ‘of course i’m reacting like this! you’re literally injured and acting like it’s nothing.’

you groaned, throwing your head back against the couch. ‘joão, they’re fine. it’s not like i broke something. they’ll be healed in a few days.’

but he was already shaking his head, carefully lifting your foot to examine it closer.

‘you should’ve told me,’ he muttered, brows furrowed in concern.

‘what would you have done?’ you teased. ‘wrap me in bubble wrap?’

he didn’t answer, which told you exactly what you needed to know.

you laughed, cupping his cheek. ‘you’re ridiculous, you know that?’

‘you’re the ridiculous one,’ he shot back, still frowning at your feet. ‘how can you just ignore pain like this?’

‘because i have to. it comes with the sport.’

he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

‘so what, you just suffer in silence?’

you bit your lip. ‘i wouldn’t call it suffering. it’s just part of the process. like how you play with bruises or minor sprains sometimes.’

joão blinked, then scowled. ‘not the same thing.’

‘it’s literally the same thing.’

he huffed, still clearly displeased.

‘okay, but do you at least take care of them? like, properly?’

you hesitated for half a second, and that was all the answer he needed.

‘you don’t, do you?’ he accused.

‘joão—’

‘unbelievable.’

before you could stop him, he was already up, marching toward the bathroom.

you sighed, knowing exactly what was coming.

he returned moments later with a first-aid kit, a determined look on his face.

‘babe, really?’ you groaned.

‘yes, really. you clearly need someone to take care of you since you won’t do it yourself.’

you rolled your eyes but let him take your foot in his hands. he was surprisingly gentle, his fingers light as he dabbed at the cuts with antiseptic wipes.

he paused when you flinched, looking up at you with wide eyes.

‘does it hurt?’

‘not really.’

his glare told you he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t argue. instead, he carefully applied ointment to each cut, blowing softly on your skin like it would somehow make the sting go away.

you watched him work, your chest tightening.

‘you really don’t have to do this,’ you whispered.

he glanced up, his gaze softening. ‘i want to.’

you smiled, threading your fingers through his hair.

‘you’re a little dramatic, you know that?’

he snorted. ‘yeah? well, you’re a little reckless, so i guess we balance each other out.’

you laughed, letting him finish bandaging your feet.

when he was done, he pressed a kiss to each foot before meeting your gaze.

‘no more competitions for a while, right?’

‘not for a few weeks.’

‘good. because i’m making sure you actually rest this time.’

‘yes, doctor félix,’ you teased.

he smirked. ‘damn right.’

he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he needed to keep you safe from the world.

you sighed, relaxing into him.

maybe having someone fuss over you wasn’t so bad after all.

but joão wasn’t done.

for the next two days, he treated you like you were made of glass. he wouldn’t let you walk barefoot around the apartment, claiming the floors were ‘too rough.’ he brought you socks, ice packs, pillows, anything he thought might help, even though you insisted you were fine.

‘joão, i can literally walk perfectly. i danced on these feet last week,’ you reminded him.

he scoffed, tossing you another pillow. ‘yeah, and look where that got you.’

‘oh my god.’

he followed you around, ready to catch you at the slightest sign of discomfort. if you so much as winced, he was at your side in seconds.

‘are you okay?’

‘joão, i stubbed my toe.’

‘that’s how it starts!’

you groaned, shoving his face away.

but as much as he annoyed you, you knew it came from love.

late at night, when you were curled up in bed, he would trace the scars on your ankles with gentle fingers, his touch barely there.

‘you work so hard,’ he murmured against your skin.

‘so do you.’

‘yeah, but i don’t bleed for it.’

you turned in his arms, brushing your lips over his.

‘this is what i love, joão, and i know you hate seeing me hurt, but it’s part of what makes me strong.’

he exhaled, pulling you even closer. ‘i just wish i could take the pain for you.’

you smiled, tucking your head under his chin.

‘you already do, in your own way.’

he kissed the top of your head, whispering, ‘always.’

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to carry the weight alone.

[jadeschambers]

CHAPTER 2: Trueform!Sukuna x Isekai!gn!reader

(reader has no gender but has f genitals.)

Parings: Ryomen Sukuna

Tags: Slow burn, eventual Smut, god/godess demigod reader, angst!!!, sukuna needs his own warnings, huge!size kink (that man is like 8 ft tall), mentioned cannibalism, non-con? (just beware, reader ❤️ him/ don’t read if it makes u uncomfy), cunnilingus, breast play. Some cursing n crack. original idea to this series on my page.

I, III

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” the question nearly went unheard, almost as if the wind purposely picked up the sound of your voice. “No. I don’t. that matter simply sounds like a child’s fairy tale.” dainsleif responded, leaning against the tree above. his body was restless, however he mentally wanted to take an eon long nap. you pouted, his seriousness killing the mood. noticing the familiar look that is always plastered on your face, dansleif pulled you closer. “I don’t believe in it because i want to live in this life time with you forever, dove.”

reality shook you awake, and in the unfamiliar bed your body jolted up from the heavy blankets. of course, you almost forgot where you had ended up.

“had a nice dream little one?” suddenly emerging from the shadows was the one and only Sukuna, his four arms crossed against his chest. “how long were you in here for…?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “well it is my chambers after all.” his words nearly sending you flying from his bed. “h-huh?! then why am I in here?”

furrowing your brows together only aided the adorable expression on your face, all amusement seen by him. “Im a generous man, no?” tilting his head he observed your sleepy form, hair all messy and dried drool marks adorning your face. “thank you I guess..” trailing off, uraume suddenly appeared beside him, bowing in respect.

“breakfast has been prepared, you may join sukuna in the dinning hall.” they announced, leaving the both of you. “already..?” leaping up from his bed, the marble flooring was cold against your feet. Sukunas estate was beautiful during the day, the rising sun managed to frame every shadow to a perfect degree.

one thing you notes was that despite the time, the halls only rung with simultaneous silence.

sitting across from him, your new, beautiful robes gifted by him rubbed against your skin. the food in front of you looked divine… however— the smell.

Sukuna began to dig in, the fine china abraded by his utensils. “is this.. human?” your eyes widened, a hand covering your nose and mouth to prevent the bile from rising.

he merely chuckled, a wicked grin spreading on his handsome face. “you figured it out quite fast. many just begin eating without question.” his jaw flexed every time the delicate meat entered his mouth. the curse looked like a predator devouring his prey across from you.

this was a trap! was he going to eat you next?! “oh relax, don’t get so defensive it. I am not going to devour you— maybe not yet.” sukuna teased, attempting to galvanize a reaction from you.

clenching your jaw, the table jolted as you stood. “and where do you think you’re going?” he cocked a brow, leaning back onto the chair as he crossed his arms. “to hunt my own breakfast!” you growled, angrily sighing as your hand clenched your conjured pole arm.

the king of curses stood up, curiously following you. as soon as he saw you leaving his court yard, sukuna smirked wickedly to himself. this was much better than any fights or meals he had experienced recently.

oh yes, little dove... he wanted this game to last just a bit longer. but alas, he couldn't allow you escape without teaching the consequences first. “come now, foolish girl..." he muttered, disappearing behind you suddenly. “don't think you can run away that easy.”

with a flash of a red light, sukuna appeared beside you again, grabbing onto your shoulder firmly. “does a little lamb like you really know how to hunt?” he teased, invading your space. his touch felt electrifying, and now all of a sudden he was invading your person bubble.

scoffing in his face, you swiftly slammed the blade of your polearm into the ground, nearly slicing a boulder in half.

“listen— I am beyond grateful that you’ve willingly took me in. but we have to set boundaries. quite literally we just met two days ago no?!” you gritted through your teeth.

having little background knowledge about him only made the tension in the air much more suffocating. “and yes i can hunt! if you’re intimidated by me just say so!” sukuna’s eyes widened at your abrasive tone. by the gods were you feisty. but how long has it been since the curse felt this alive?

“should you consider giving up little lamb; I intend to 'teach' you regardless of whether you choose flight or stand against me..." leaning close enough to brush against you softly, his proximity left chills running down your spine.

pursing your lips together in frustration, the small of your hands held up towards his chest in a flicking motion. with a small movement of your wrist, you pushed him far from where you were once standing.

sukuna’s eyes widened, the memory from yesterday reminiscing in his mind. “personal space…please” you reminded him, biting the inside of your cheek. sukuna's expression shifted from amused disinterest to annoyance.

standing upright, he crossed his arms over his massive torso, revealing the numerous scars dotting his chiseled abdomen. “persistent aren't you?" he grumbled lowly, his voice rumbling ominously throughout the quiet area surrounding them.

for once in his life, sukuna decided to willingly play along with your games. “fine. if you prefer to not eat human then you can hunt your own food.” grumbling under your breathe, your pole arm nearly slashed sukuna’s arm in a petty manner.

“fuckin’ cannibal.” you muttered, following a small trail that lead to a river.

sukuna stood behind you, his voice scaring off the sounds of nature as he babbled incessant stories. He watched curiously as you took off the skirt to your kimono, stepping into the shallow water bank.

conjuring a bow, you carefully aimed, shooting and immediately striking four fish with one arrow. plopping the fish into the woven basket by sukunas feet, you smiled at him in accomplishment. the king of curses nearly had to hold back his laughter.

how naive, is four fish really an achievement to you? “failure is not acceptable here.” sukuna mocked, chuckling lowly at how fast your face dropped.

the walk back through the forest was mostly silent, filled by the beautiful tune of natures call. suddenly from behind, the bushes behind us shuttered, making you turn in caution.

placing a hand on his forearm, both of you eyed the suspicious leaves. in an instant, a scared little bunny hopped out, anxious with its eyes full of a preys blood. sukuna smiled as your harsh grip tightened on his.

you leapt forward faster than you could think; hugging the poor timid creature before Sukuna could land his dirty hands on it “no! not this one! go away sukuna!” you yelped, protecting the poor bunny.

chuckling deeply, sukuna shook his head slowly "pathetic..." he muttered contemptuously as he reached out again. however you smacked his hand away faster than he could think, an adorably frustrated expression painted on your face. “I said not this one. I will kill you if you hunt it!” you huffed, standing up to cradle the little animal in your arms protectively. sukuna rolled his eyes.

so you’ve been flaunting to him that you could kill him in a second— yet you cower to a mere bunny. how miserable. he thought to himself, crossing his arms.

an amused snort escaped sukuna as he trailed close behind, following every move of yours carefully. when you signaled stopping abruptly amidst green foliage, he paused too - observing your postures attentively.

there he stood behind with a mischievous gleam dancing within the dark depths of his red eyes. "what would happen if I do?" he posed cheekily, his handsome face scrunched in a wicked manner. “you'll simply have killed two birds with one stone wouldn't it? or three...four..." grinning wryly at last his statement, he crossed his arms casually, leaning onto a tree trunk idly waiting for retaliation or resistance that probably wasn't coming anytime soon.

rolling your eyes at his immature demeanor, you held out your hand towards his still figure. with a flick of the wrist, black mysterious vines suddenly attached to his huge curse like body, and no matter how much the king of curses struggled he only further lost the wrestle.

“wait here and be patient please?” you smiled innocently at his struggling. walking a few meters away into the line of trees, you let the bunny hop from your arms and freely into the forest. you knew Sukuna and many various predators could smell the poor thing, so you manipulated the air and dissipated the scent of pray lingering in the air

striding back into the lively plain, you spotted sukuna still strapped to the tree. “Im back! and you’re still here.” you teased.

finally released from the iron grasps of your mysterious tendrils, sukuna rubbed his sore wrists ruefully, but couldn't hide the grin spreading across his lips. “you deeply intrigue me little one.” he paused briefly, a soft chuckle escaping his throat. “let us return, I personally cannot fathom what would occur if you were to walk around with an empty stomach.” sukuna teased.

—

knowing that it was your own hands that cooked your meal brought comfort. however sukuna’s incessant breathing sliced through the atmosphere of your once peaceful meal. “you’re such a little pussy sukuna.”

“ha!" choking down a bitter laughter, sukuna narrowed his gaze dangerously while maintaining stoicism.

he crossed his legs beneath him effortlessly, folding into a position opposite to yours. “that is rich coming from someone protecting a mere rabbit earlier." his gesture dismissing the topic to swiftly changed subject. “but truly..." as he glanced towards you, offering reverential glances placed upon the dish you cooked; sukuna’s curiosity peeked through his mockery.

“this cuisine tastes divine regardless preference. who taught these culinary skills anyway?". his eyes gleamed with newfound interest in which he sought your answer patiently.

the question sparked a few sentimental memories to flood through your brain, causing you to chew on your lip.

“many of my old uhm.. friends i guess..” you trailed off, mumbling as you nibbled on the pair of chopsticks. would you ever return to Teyvat..? or was the idea entirely a lost cause.

the silence that draped over the conversation became heavy, veiling the tension between the words uttered moments ago.

sukuna’s head tilted quizzically; contemplating the revelations shared between you two which slowly formed more thoughts. “your kind isn't omnivorous then?" his curiosity clearly won over your indifference momentarily.

you snorted at his question, setting down your chopsticks onto a hashi-oki. “my kind? whats that s’pposed to mean.” crossing your arms you smugly giggle. “you are not fully human, at least from what i can smell.” sukuna acknowledged, tilting his head as he observed you.

growing quiet at his words, you contemplate if gods exist in this world. “what is this world exactly… because you definitely aren’t human. and you seem— strong?” leaning forward, the food on the horigotatsu grew forgotten.

“sorcerers.” he muttered. “of course, the one in front of you just so happens to be the greatest in history.” sukuna smugly announced, his hands displaying his arrogance.

you stared at him in complete doubt, pursing your lips. “right. and I can pull birds from my kimono.” sukuna rolled his eyes at your retort, yet the sound of your giggles began to turn a few cogs in his head.

suddenly he began to scoot closer, his monstrous frame only a few inches from you. “I believe we are the same no?” his eyes bore into yours intently searching for answers. “the same values? intentions?” his words began to brew the intensity between two opposites.

“uhm.. well no, i don’t eat humans, and i think im much more heroic than you.” shrugging, you began to clear your meal off the horigotastu.

however sukuna did not persist with his rambling, seeing as to your dismay he was still unworthy of trust. “you’re much to stubborn. we shall discuss further on this topic soon. get your rest little dove.”

the tatami mat beneath creaked under his weight as uraume suddenly appeared in the room. standing near the door, you glanced at him. “goodnight sukuna..” parting your ways, he watched as his subordinate guided you safely to his chambers.

the names he would call you reminded you of home. dove. it made your heart ache.

oh lawd this chapter was so long 🫡 but i wanted to really get more interactions between reader and sukuna. please let me know if u guys like this serious so far/wnt to be tagged!

tags : @maskedpacific @kbirdieee2540 @ghostlyworld

characters and art not owned by me

[gojipink]

white lie

ஐ ft. kaeya

ஐ summary. trying to hide an injury from him!

ஐ warnings. none, SFW. 1.3k words

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getting home to you and kaeya’s shared apartment took longer than you had wanted; getting healed by barbra after a couple of adventures found you propped against a tree, half-lucid with a bloody gash across your abdomen had really put a kink in your usual schedule.  

you breathe a sigh of relief when you unlock the front door and find that the apartment is still empty, meaning that kaeya was still in his office and hasn't been alerted of your little accident. 

you have never kept anything from kaeya but this? this was different. lately, he’s been having to take on way too much, his desk overflowing with piles upon piles of paperwork while also leading patrol tours throughout the nation. every night he comes home utterly exhausted, barely having enough energy to finish his dinner and give you a chaste kiss before he retires to bed.

if he catches wind of your injury, he'll be sure to go insane with worry and put himself on the backburner in order to dote on you, which you deem completely unnecessary. barbra’s already given you the all clear, just have to take it easy for the next few days and clean your wounds daily and you should be healed up soon enough. besides, you’re strong enough to take care of yourself, there’s no reason for you to burden kaeya with something as insignificant as a minor injury. 

you tried to act as normal as you could. tried to move around the kitchen preparing dinner for the two of you with as much stability as you could muster. and once kaeya came home, eyes slightly wide and breathing deeply like he was hiding the fact he just ran home, you put on your best smile for him. 

“welcome home, love! you made it just in time for dinner,” you beam at him, settling into your usual seat at the table.

he looks around the apartment for a moment before his clear eye finds its way back to you, analyzing your seemingly unharmed figure. he gives you a tight smile while he makes his way into the kitchen to wash up, “you made dinner?” he asks, tone slightly devoid of his usual pep but you chalk it up to him being tired. 

“mhm, just something quick. hurry, come join me,” you smile at him. 

after a moment, kaeya sits in his chair across from you. watchful eyes observing your figure as you begin to eat, his heart twisting uncomfortably as his mind clouds with turmoil. 

kaeya studies you for a moment more before speaking up, “heard you required a healer today, what’s going on with that?” 

you tense at his question, eyes wide and staring down at your food, mind racing to find a convincing excuse. 

“i, um,” you swallow thickly before looking up to meet his eyes, his expression unreadable, “i was feeling a little sore from these past few days so i thought i could just pop in and see barbra. you know, just get a little once-over is all.” 

kaeya’s uncovered eye flash with something indecipherable. confusion? hurt? anger? though, it wouldn't really make sense for him to feel any of these emotions at all, not unless-

“so, you're going with that story, hm?” he sighs out, letting his spoon clink loudly against the side of the bowl as he sits back in the chair with his arms crossed, studying you with icy eyes. 

“i…well, yes, i-” you try to come up with something quickly before he interrupts with a humorless chuckle, 

“can’t say i’m not hurt by your lie, angel.” he says quietly with a sad smile while looking at you with dejected eyes. 

you stare at him, shocked by his words, “kaeya, im not-”

“jean said that you were covered in blood. barbra told her everything, which she then told me before i left work. said you were, and i quote, ‘barely conscious enough to say what happened’.” he said, his tone of voice flat and empty, “but apparently, and this is the part that puzzles me most, it was specifically requested that this incident was to be kept from me.”

“i can explain,” you rush out, quickly moving to the chair next to him, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that shoots across your abdomen, too desperate to save him from any misunderstanding he’s conjured in his mind.

“kaeya, i promise,” you reach over to slide your hand into his, your heart breaks at the sound of his shuddering inhale, his thumb roughly rubbing the back of your hands trying to mask the shakiness in his fingers, “i’m alright. i’m here. it sounds so much worse than it really is and the only reason i didnt tell you-”

“that's alright, my love,” he interjects looking up at you with a dim smile, “i get it, i'm glad you’re alright,” he whispers as he pulls his hand out of your grasp to stand up and clear off the dining room table.

your eyes helplessly follow his movements, “wh-get what, kae-”

“you must be tired, hm? had quite the day, princess,” his usual easygoing tone forced back into his voice, “ill clean up, you go wash up first let me know if you want help. i'll call barbra or jean if you prefer it.”

you break from your dumbfounded state as you chase after him in the kitchen. arms wrapping around his torso tightly, refusing to let him pull away as he stands in front of the sink bracing his hands against the counter.

“i know you're mad at me,” you start gently, cheek pressed snuggly against his back, your hands pressed against his chest feeling the heavy beat of his stinging heart, “but i’m so sorry, my love. i never wanted to cause you any kind of distress. you have been so overworked, so stressed out, i just didn't want to pile it on.” 

he harshly exhales through his nose as his hands slowly make their way towards yours, gently prying them loose so that he can turn in your iron hold. once he faces you, his fingers come up to brush over your cheek. 

“im not upset with you,” he whispers, his thumb lightly tracing your cheekbone, “i mean, i'm upset, but i'm not mad at you. could never be mad at you, angel.” 

you frown at his dejected expression and tone while you lean into his touch, “i just didn’t want to burden you with it, kae. it really sounds worse than it actually is, i swear. nothing bad happened, i was fixed up really quick! the cut was so much smaller than what the healers thought, it just looked way worse because i was also splattered with monster blood as well,” you hastily explained all in one breath. 

he worriedly chews on his bottom lip as he absorbs your words,  “what about how you were barely conscious-”

“i was just exhausted after the fight, kae,” you clarify, “admittedly it was a tough fight but i was back up on my feet in no time after seeing the healers.” 

he analyzes you for a moment before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, “tell me everything,” he whispers, “good, bad, mundane or not. i don't care, just don't shut me out, please. you have no idea what-” he stops himself to exhale a heavy breath, “i didn't know what to think. regardless, it doesn't matter how busy i am, how stressed out i am, i want to know everything that happens with you. you are my number one priority, not some group of recruits i just met yesterday. you understand that, right?” 

you nod your head while still pressed against his, “i know, im sorry,” you whisper. 

kaeya pulls back slightly before cupping your cheeks to drag you into a sweet and comforting kiss. 

after a few more tender kisses, kaeya’s lips lift into his usual playful smile, “c’mon, pretty, you must be sore, hm? think we both need a relaxing bath.”

you beam up at him at his suggestion, your bright smile stunning him for a moment as his heart skips in his chest and his stomach erupts into butterflies. quickly, he turns away to lead you both to the bathroom as your giggles follow closely behind him hinting that you've caught sight of his blushing cheeks.

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masterlist

[liveontelevision]

Hi! im in love with your Lucifer fics. You newest one has me gripped and i cant wait for the next part.

You got me brainstorming more Lucifer fics ideas

I was thinking of one where the reader has been helping/supporting Charlie at the Hotel and is almost like a mother/parental figure to her, and when Lucifer arrives he acts cold/mean no matter how much she tries to be polite. But then he warm up to her after see how much the reader really cares about Charlie and then he finally realises hes in love with her.

♡

Thank you! I literally could write about him for hours (kinda have already) and I really liked this prompt, so here's just a lil' something for ya, anon ♡

Honey | Lucifer x Reader

No smut, just some cute fluff here-

♡♡♡

As soon as you arrived in Hell, your eyes were drawn to the drab-looking hotel just up the hill. And you flew to it like a moth to a TV screen. That being said, you've known Charlie and the other residents for as long as you've been dead. They've all seen you at your worst, having to be the unlucky few to explain your death. Although, Charlie's comfort really made the whole being dead thing much more palatable. During this time, while she's supported you, you've seen her through thick and thin as well. Pretty soon, you became an important part of her life, offering a more parental influence when she needed one. You didn't really die at an old age, but a lot went on in your lifetime to give you the maturity to comfort people that way and you were always happy to do it.

Considering your skill set, some of the residents went to you in the same fashion. A little task you took to, just to help out, was fixing up some articles of clothing for people. It was a great mindless task for you to do, considering Alastor wasn't a fan of having phones and TVs in the hotel. So you simply sat, humming a little tune as you fixed up something from Angel's wardrobe.

Your trance was broken, seeing a pair of slender legs in front of you. Following them up, you finally meet eyes with a nervous-looking Charlie. She's fidgeting with her fingers, still trying to find the courage to say whatever she came to you for.

"You need something, hun? You can talk to me, c'mere." With a sweet voice, you patted the cushion on the couch next to you and kept on working. She let out a heavy breath you didn't realize she was holding.

"Soooo... my dad is coming to visit and I - uh.." she still struggled to find her words. Considering you've barely been outside the hotel, you really didn't question how big of a deal Lucifer was. But to see Charlie getting flustered about a little visit from her own father did make you feel uneasy.

"I guess - I don't know, I'm just nervous, is all! It's not that big a deal, I mean, he's my dad, but also.. he's... my dad..?" You nodded your head.

"Seems like a big deal. He's the king of Hell, so it makes sense that you're nervous. Can I help with anything?" Acknowledging her feelings and making sure to keep your tone smooth, you finally set aside the mini skirt you were fixing up to face her.

"Oh! Um - I was wondering if you could bake something for everyone! Niffty's making cookies, but I think dad might enjoy something a little more.." You both thought back on the disturbing display of desserts Niffty had made for everyone in the past, it sent a chill down your spine. You nodded your head fast, taking a hold of her hands.

“Yeah, I'd love to! I'll make sure it's something your dad would like, too! How's that sound?" You absolutely loved to bake, and doing it for other people always made it even better. There was some pressure on you, considering who you were catering to, but remembering that this is for Charlie, kept any nerves at bay. Charlie, who just happened to be shedding a tear or two of relief, gave you a hug that would've snapped you in two if it had gone on any longer. You were used to those at this point.

The day went by fast, Charlie preparing and stressing over little decisions for her dad's visit. You got the OK to bake an apple pie. A specialty you would make when you were alive, you went all out. You'd always make the dough from scratch, soak the apples in a homemade cinnamon butter, and somehow managed to spiffy it up to a commercial extent. You were batting off Pentious and Niffy as best you could until he arrived.

You saw a side of Charlie during that visit that you haven't really seen before. She was nervous, sure, but it was clear she felt so defeated. Each little quip on sinners being hopeless or how Charlie shouldn't even bother in this "whole redemption deal" made you understand her paranoia more and more.

As Charlie introduced each of the staff and residents, Lucifer got distracted by the still steaming pie sitting on the table in front of everyone. He definitely wasn't the only one whose mouth was watering just by staring at it, but he was the one who bit the bullet, taking the first piece. 

"And this is -" a loud hum of satisfaction interrupted Charlie's introduction to Sir Pentious, who looked deflated at the change in topic.

"Charlie! Good golly - This is great!" With another bite and hum, you watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment. A little boost of confidence immediately making you giddy.

"Oh! Well, that's good! Because this is our other guest! She made it herself -" Charlie took a hold of your shoulders and dragged you to face Lucifer. You could feel the nervous tremble coming from her hands. You looked up at her for a moment and smiled, placing a hand over top of hers. It really did seem to calm her nerves. And for some reason, he didn't seem to like that. 

"Well - I'll eat anything with apples since they're obviously my favorite. It’s not that special." He tossed the half-finished plate back onto the table and wiped his hands clean. He ignored you.

"U-Uhm.. yeah, that's - that's everyone, I guess!" Charlie stammered, not expecting him to turn such a cold shoulder to you. He spent his time examining you. Considering he didn't even care enough to learn your name at that moment, he sure was taking his time looking you up and down.

"Well then!" He clasped his hands together after finally tearing his eyes off you. "How about a little tour?" He suggested, clearly not invested in the other sinners now. Charlie looked down at you and you nodded, starting to clean up some little things around you. It was a nervous habit you had, but it helped to keep your hands busy and your mind off the insulting interaction you just had to endure.

Charlie took Vaggie's hand and went on to give the tour. Once they were out of sight around the corner, you slumped your shoulders letting out a groan.

"Short king's givin' you the cold shoulder, huh?" Angel leaned on the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

"Right? Okay, glad I'm not the only one who noticed that. Is something wrong with the pie..?" Looking over to Sir Pentious, who was licking the already empty pie tin clean, he quickly shook his head.

"Maybe's got a thing for ya." Angel teased, jabbing you with his elbow. You rolled your eyes, finally taking the pie tin from Pentious.

"He didn't even get my name, I'm sure that's not it. Whatever.. " you grumbled, taking any dishes you could to the kitchen to keep your mind from exploring that option.

The extermination day battle was here. You followed the armies who attacked the hoards of exorcists when they finally arrived. As the battle went on, you hated to admit it, you found yourself in awe watching Lucifer kick Adam's ass. The sight of his wings and the little V thing - and obviously his immense power, somehow managed to make you blush as you were attacking angels. Definitely a new sensation for you, with the bloodlust muddling your other senses, but it was easy to forget about it once the new hotel was renovated and everyone was finally settled in.

As everything went back to normal, you went back to helping Charlie with anything you could, drinking at the bar with everyone and generally things went back to the way they were. There was only one difference. Lucifer made the decision to stay at the hotel. It was commendable for sure, his change of heart to support Charlie through this change, but it only left you feeling conscious about everything you'd do when he was around. The underlying crush didn't help much. Or Angel's teasing about said crush.

You really did try, when you'd pass him the hallway, you'd always send him your most sincere smile. Or when you spotted him reading or working on anything, you'd try and spark any kind of conversation or ask if he needed help. He never needed help. He was always too busy to chat. You honestly couldn't remember a time he looked you in the eyes before. You bit your tongue. No need to worry Charlie, or anyone really, about some feud you possibly made up in your mind.

It was especially important to you to not stress Charlie right now. Starting the hotel back up was a big task alone, but the loss of Sir Pentious weighed on everyone. And Charlie took full blame for it. A late night, where she most likely stayed up to try and find any kind of hope for redemption, any speck of proof to bring sinners in, she found herself burnt out. Approaching the memorial for Pentious, you stood beside Charlie. You found her visiting it every now and then, and when you did, you knew she needed a check in. And you were right. Without a word, Charlie suddenly clung to you. She went on about how it was all her fault. How he was gone because of her. How nothing seems to be working and she's terrified that it's all for nothing.

It took a while for her to calm down, but you would never leave her like this. By now, the two of you had fallen to the ground, sitting on your knees.

"Charlie, you are doing your absolute best. It's okay to cry, you know that. Think of everything you've done for everyone else, I mean - Pen would've never sacrificed himself if it wasn't for his friends." You brushed a tear from her still wet and puffy eyes. "You did that. You gave him something worth dying for." It was a hard truth, but you hoped it was enough for her. She's done more for you than she'd ever know, and you'd do anything to give it back. You didn't realize, but before approaching Charlie, Lucifer was pacing a nearby corridor, battling the decision to go up to her himself. He hadn't said much to her since extermination day, and he had always been nervous about saying something wrong, making things worse. Before he had the chance to muster up the courage, you had swooped in. It confused him. He should've been jealous or hurt, that he wasn't able to calm her down himself. That you beat him to the punch. But he didn't really feel that way, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Was it admiration? Sitting in the shadows until he assured Charlie was taken care of, he went back up to his workshop, flustered for a number of reasons.

There was one moment, where things started to look good. It was a regular night at the bar, you, Angel and Husk had gotten on the topic of your lives, looking at the positives which was a rarity. Charlie and Lucifer were nearby, Charlie enthralled in the discussions of what Earth was like.

"My homelife? It wasn't anything fancy, but.. um.. - oh I had a farm, actually! I ran it with my parents, it was.. nice." You hold onto your arms, a bittersweet smile on your face. With a light bulb going off in Charlie's head, she nudged you with her elbow.

"You didn't happen to have any birds or chickens or ducks - did you?" She hummed. She noticed the wedge between you and her dad, and it hurt her just as much as it hurt you. She's little miss "everyone should get along", of course, this hurt her. You didn't notice, but Lucifer peaked up at you for a split second before distracting himself by swaying the drink in his glass.

"Oh..? Oh! Yeah! Yes, actually! We raised a few ducklings that a neighbor gave us - we got them as eggs, so we got to see them grow up and everything!" Going on, telling a story about how you snuck one into your room to keep it as a pet, only to be scolded for it. You had the whole group in the palm of your hand. Including Lucifer. You met his eyes for just a moment, the twinkle in them immediately drawing you in. With a quick smile, he became flustered. He scoffed, pushing himself away from the bar and leaving. As much as that should've infuriated you, seeing those eyes and the growing redness across the apple of his cheeks felt like a win.

Since the hotel was newer, and word hadn't gotten out about Pentious's redemption yet, it was still vacant beside you, Angel, and occasionally Cherry Bomb. That gave the whole group a lot of time to enjoy the large space in the meantime.

Certain nights, Alastor would play the large, golden, piano that Lucifer had so generously created. This led to Charlie singing along to whatever he was playing, of course, and when Lucifer was in a good mood - or drunk - he would even pitch in. He'd sit atop the piano, his legs crossed, as he hiked the matching golden fiddle to his shoulder and played along. It was truly a sight to see. His skills were unmatched, but it still seemed to melt into the rest of the contributions. It was as if he invented the damn thing (He did).

This sort of became a tradition, when everyone was in a good mood and Alastor wasn't getting on Lucifer's nerves too much, everyone would join in, singing and dancing. It was rare, but Damn was it fun when it did happen. One of these nights, Alastor started off with a song that you knew, and had actually introduced to Charlie. She gasped as soon as she recognized the tune, pulling you close by both your hands to sing along. You had as good of a voice as anyone did, in a musical rendition of Hell, but you mainly stuck to harmonizing little things with Charlie. Swinging around with each other, until you were dizzy and laughing, you noticed that the room seemed a little empty.

Lucifer was seated where he usually was, on his phone. His fiddle was placed carefully at his side, and he was scrolling through his goddamn phone. 

"Don't feel like joining us, Your Highness?" You kept to titles since it was obvious he wasn't warmed up to you just yet. Even after living with you for a month or so.

"Mm. Don't know the song. It's not my cup of tea, just can't seem to get into it." He says bluntly, never looking up to you.

“Oh, come on! Just play along, it’s just for fun!” You slurred your words a bit, whatever you had been sipping throughout the night causing, what you would call, an outburst.

“Hm! Well, I’m not exactly here for your entertainment, am I? God forbid a sinner doesn't have fun in their eternal punishment.” The room went silent. You felt so defeated. You've been trying since the day you met him to try and at least get on good terms with him, but it seemed like he would even prefer a night with Alastor over you. Things like this never bugged you much, you tried so hard to not let it bug you, but when Charlie looked over to you, with those worried eyes, it was hard to keep back the bottled-up disappointment.

With a little sniffle and a quick wipe of your eyes with your sleeve, you start heading back up the newly decorated grand staircase, without a word to anyone.

"Heyyy - Dad..! I think you maybe.. might've... I don't know - hurt her feelings..? Would you wanna - " Charlie carefully approached her father, who immediately lit up and placed his device down when she spoke. "Could you talk to her? Maybe just check up on her..?" She was speaking barely above a whisper.

“You have to apologize. Um.. sir.” Vaggie finally blurted out. His smile was nervous, his eye twitching a bit at the concept. Taking in a deep breath, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a sad little laugh.

"Well, uh.. I don't know, Kiddo, maybe she's just tired." He muttered, obviously hesitant at the idea.

"Sounds like the king can't handle a little damsel in distress to me. Would you like me to comfort her, my dear?" Alastor was quick to chime in from the piano bench, offering a sympathetic smile to Charlie. Why did the concept of that make Lucifer’s blood boil?

"Oh fuck you, bambi, I can handle it." With a quick hop off of the piano top, he almost stormed up the stairs to find you. Definitely not what Charlie was hoping to motivate him, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew Alastor had his reasoning for that. She mouthed a little thank you to him, once Lucifer turned his back.

You were ecstatic to learn that Charlie worked an extensive library into the hotel. Walking into its large double doors, you almost struggled to see the back of the room with how full it was. You had a little corner you claimed as your own, leaving one of your blankets draped on the little loveseat there, and setting aside a pile of books you were still working through. It was a great place to calm yourself down after what had just happened.

Hearing heels click against the tile, you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

"I'm fine Charlie, it's fine.. I just need a second, go back to the lobby." You shooed off the figure with one hand, wiping your face with the other.

"Ahha- Nope! Try again -" with a nervous chuckle, Lucifer greeted you with an awkward wave. Interrupting the silence by clearing his throat, he gestured to the seat next to you. With a quick nod, finally snapping out of your surprised state, you shifted your position to sit beside him. It wasn't exactly a two-person couch. Not for two people who might hate each other, at least. I mean it was a loveseat. He struggled to keep his distance, leaving your legs barely brushing together.

"Soooo.. you, uh- like.. reading..?" He asked after a long silence. You were mainly confused by his words, but simply nodded in response.

“Yeah it's - I-I love it in here.. There wasn’t anything like this on Earth, so this is nice." You managed to speak out, between sniffles. He agreed with a little hum, fidgeting with the ring on his finger.

“Glad you like it. It's uhh - just happens to be my personal collection.” He puffed out his chest, looking at his clawed nails with a little smirk on his face. He had no idea why he thought that would help, but it actually did a bit. when he looked your direction, you were slack-jawed in awe. The sight made him turn a bit red in the cheeks, quickly looking away, he patted the top of his legs to fill the silence.

“That's really cool! I guess it makes sense - considering you're older than the dawn of time- but, still. Thank you, I suppose. For letting me - I mean - us use it.” You rambled on for a moment your words became quieter the more you gushed.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked between laughter. You made him laugh. You hoped he didn't see the sparkle in your eyes at the notion. You stalled, lost in thought, before quickly shaking your head.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the awkward silence sitting a little more comfortably than before. Finally, Lucifer let out a sigh of defeat. 

"It’s my fault, right?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, uh.. I guess so, but.. I mean, I'm kind of drunk so it might be something with that - but I'm fine, I swear." You waved your hands in an attempt to soothe the serious discussion. But Lucifer knew better than anyone what someone holding their true intentions back looks like.

"You're really good for Charlie. I.. I wish I could take care of her. Like you do." He admitted. It surprised you for a moment. Was that why he's been so cold to you? Was there some form of jealousy in there? Or was he really concerned that you would replace him in some fashion?

"C'mon, you're just saying that to make me feel better. I saw you on extermination day, none of this would even be here without that little pep talk, you’ve done more for her than you know, I think. Charlie.. she loves you." The words made him perk up a little. Maybe even a king needs reassurance sometimes.

"Oh- Um.. I guess she does, huh..?" You could hear his smile. The two of you sat in silence for a moment. You didn't even realize you had the smallest smile on your own face. But he did. With another nervous laugh, he hesitates before planting a hand on your leg, just above your knee. No time like the present, you suppose.

"I’m sorry. I really am. For.. everything. You're actually amazing. I-I mean it.." Without a response from you yet, he lets his gentle touch linger a moment longer. You leaned in towards him, the smile on your face turning sly.

"Yeah? You think so? I almost thought you hated me." You were teasing him. He's been so cold to you this whole time, you just had to take advantage of the moment. He turns a bit red, covering his mouth with his free hand as he clears his throat into his fist.

"Of course I don't.." He muttered.

"Soo, would you say you like me?" You drew out your words, walking your fingers up his arm.

"W-What? How - " He clamped his hand over his mouth before desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts, " Of course I do! I just said you're great with Charlie and I -ahh.. I love Charlie, so I like - " He coughs up his words, " - I liked your pie, that you made! And you have a good voice, too, and your little duck story was cute, so - " God bless this man's tendency to overshare when he's nervous. The alcohol definitely gave you the little boost of confidence you needed to question him like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn't notice his reactions to you whenever you weren't paying attention. Or whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It finally dawned on you that some of those glares might have had some other motivations.

You knew when to reel it in, but considering his hand was still on your leg, he moved it up a bit even, you assumed he was okay with the teasing. Maybe even enjoying it. Delicately drawing your fingers across his jaw, to his chin, you pulled his gaze to meet yours. You could feel his hand tense at every little touch.

"You have really nice eyes, Luci-" He audibly gulped, tugging at his bowtie. "You’ve been avoiding looking at me for months.. I wish you'd look at me more." You almost pouted, your fingers still lingering under his chin. With the slightest movement, he followed your hand towards your face. He took his hand off your thigh for a moment, only for you to take a hold of it and place it on your back. He was the one who pulled you closer at this point.

“Y-you can't just say things like that.. it’s embarrassing..” He muttered, trying his best to not close the gap between your bodies. 

“Embarrassing? I’m not embarrassed, your highness. Are you? Do I.. make you nervous? Hmm?” You placed your hands just above his knees, leaning closer through your chest. Sucking in his lips, he did his best to stay silent, knowing he’d dig his own grave no matter how he answered.

“I just think you’re so pretty, Luci, I can't help myself.” Before he could properly react, you leaned in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. Damn, what did you drink? You could feel his hand on your back clenching, either to bring you closer or just out of sheer nerves. With a little hum against his ear, he let out the quietest whimper. It apparently took both of you by surprise, you leaned back to get a look at his face with wide eyes. Meeting his eyes this time sent you both into a blushing, nervous state.

With a deep breath, you cupped his face after brushing some of his golden locks back into place, then gave him the lightest kiss on his lips. You didn't even linger long enough for him to return it, and he was clearly distraught by it. You unwrapped yourself from your blanket, giving a dumbstruck Lucifer another quick peck on his forehead, before standing.

“I’m going back downstairs. Take your time, Hun!” You called out so sweetly as if you hadn't just left him a heated mess. 

Finally returning to the lobby, you walked with your chest puffed out, beckoning for another drink from Husk.

"Did.. did Dad check in on you? Are you okay?" Charlie carefully approached you, and was immediately disarmed by your grin.

"Yup! I feel much better now. He apologized and we had a little.. Discussion. Thanks, hun." You said sweetly, taking a sip of the drink Husk slid into your hand. Angel gave you a dirty glare, and after meeting his eyes you quickly looked away.

"Well great! Where is he? Maybe we can pick back up where we left off!" Charlie clasped her hands together enthusiastically.

"Here! I-I'm here! Great idea, honey, let's keep playing!" He tripped over himself, rushing into the room and hoping nobody saw him re-fastening his tie. Sending him another quick smile, his face clearly hadn't cooled from the past events. He nearly dropped his fiddle, but as soon as he prepared he picked up the same song that was left unfinished moments before.

♡♡♡

I wanted to get through some asks, but I'm still working on Suffer, no worries, my friends

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee @0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid )

[diejager]

I MISSED YOU ASK BOX. [BURIES YOU IN PLUSHIES AND MUAH MUAH MUAH-] THANK YOU FOR YOUR DEDICATION!!!!

i read your match made in hell! makarov x reader scenario and !!!! it's so good!!! honestly im having a hard time finding evil 'couples' and whatnot!!

can i request more? i dont have a specific prompt really- please and thank you!!!! [MUAH MUAH MUAH]

Can I keep the plushies????

Schemes Cw: canon-typical violence, mention of violence, canon divergence?, tell me if I missed any.

“Мой милый котёнок,” he whispered lowly, a seductive smile playing on his lips as he kissed down your arm. His lips trailed down your inner forearm, peppering your scarred skin with featherlight kisses and lingering on the pulse of your wrist, a display of loyalty —or as loyal as he could be. “You are vicious; lethal.”

He often complimented you, telling you how you were made for one another, your lethal planning and his vile games. He showered you in this - needed - devotion to show you how much you played your part in his plan, in the betterment of his country where he could easily give you whatever you wanted at the drop of the finger. If he played his card well enough, you’d stick to his side a while longer, dedicating your time to him as much as he spent on you, running after you and bartending with you.

“My precious котёнок.”

His lips lingered on your palm, hesitant to part with your rough fingers, scarred from all the hard work you put in your syndicate, the time and deaths it took for you to build your power and reputation. He had both power and time, having all he could wish for with Konni and his little piggy bank, the financer that grew attached to his cause and devoted her time and money to him. He had all, but he hungered for more, starving for the excitement you could provide that others couldn’t. That trickiness and effort he had to put to stay in your good light, keeping you by his side as the leader of another strong faction.

“What exactly is your plan, Makarov?” You had this cold gleam in your eyes, conniving and scheming, always ready to fight him tooth and nail in case he wanted to overthrow you or play you. He admired that about you, prepared to be ten feet ahead of both allies and enemies. “I need to know what you want to help you.”

He hummed, rising to take your hands within his, cradling them as if he was praying to you, posturing before a higher figure in his life —perhaps you were at this point of his life, something he needed to have and something he wanted to cling onto for a future he saw, one that he imagined. He, after all, had obsessions that he planned on keeping close and those he would chain down to him, and you were the latter.

“Price will want revenge,” he started slowly, his dark eyes gazing into your own, watching you construct and build a scenario and add every little aspect to it, strategising a way to victory, “He will come with more force. I hear that Shadow Company is helping them.”

You contemplated his words, your pretty face splitting in a cruel grin. You leaned into him, arms easing out of his hold to grip his waist and pulled him against you, his broad chest flushed against yours. He could feel the warmth of your hands through his clothes, a grating feeling if you weren’t such an important figure in his kingdom.

“Then we prepare and strike when they’re in their weakest,” your smile portrayed one of innocence, bright eyes and small grin, as if you hadn’t seen your fair share of dogfights. “Is that not what we usually do, Makarov?”

Taglist:@sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[slytherinshua]

(IM)PERFECT WEDDINGS

genre. fluff. a little hurt/comfort. warnings. a lot of crying and distress. yul is there to comfort <3. a little talk about having children. pairing. fiance!yul x fem!reader. wc. 2k. request. no. a/n. i wrote this specifically for @candewlsy <3 mizu ik you've been having a bit of a hard time recently but i hope this cheers you up a bit!! yn may or may not be inspired by you 👁️

Yul knew something was wrong with you the second you refused his request to meet up 5 days ago. It was times like these that he wished he could speed up the preparations for your marriage and just be able to see you at any time he wished as your husband. But for another 4 months, he would still be confined to the frustrating but precious title of fiancé.

Due to his studying and teaching at Jeongjingak, he hadn’t seen you in longer than he would have liked. It was bordering on almost 2 weeks and Yul was rarely the clingy of you two. If he was feeling the effects of missing you so greatly that it was hard to even focus on his work, he wondered how much worse it was for you.

You had as busy a schedule as him, mostly because of your decision to take on all the preparations for your weddings single-handedly. He knew you wanted it to be as perfect as possible. You had been dreaming of this day since you were little. Now that you had found the perfect man, you needed to plan the perfect ceremony as well. From the flowers, location, food, ceremony, afterparty, and even attire, you were responsible for planning it all. 

Yul had always admired how big a dreamer you were. You had fantasies and aspirations and always worked incredibly hard to complete them. And while he was hard-working and book smart, logistical and artistic planning had never been his strong suit. He was lacking in many ways, and watching you work reminded him of it every day.

Or he would have been able to watch you, if you hadn’t been seemingly avoiding his presence for over twelve days now. It was a perfectly sunny afternoon and Yul had finished all his work early. There was absolutely no excuse for him to not come to see you— even the weather was encouraging him to pay you a visit. He knew you were probably cooped up in your room, writing a million letters to all the vendors and designers you had hired for the wedding. It would benefit you greatly to get outside.

The sounds of shouting and subsequent rushing of footsteps was definitely not what Yul had anticipated hearing as he walked up to your home. One of the maids seemed to rush out of the house in a panic, her eyes widening and her face growing hot out of embarrassment once her eyes landed on Seo Yul.

“Master Seo! Oh, goodness, you should not be here right now— If Miss. L/n finds out she’ll only panic more—”

“Why is she panicking?” Yul interrupted the maid’s hurried jumble of words, concern growing every second he didn’t know what was going on. He had only been gone from you for twelve days; what possibly could have happened in that time? Before he even got an answer from the maid, he was already making his way towards the front door, unable to wait a second longer to figure out what was wrong.

“M-master Seo, please!” The poor maid scurried along after him, warning him to not go into the house. Yul seemed to be conveniently deaf to her pleading. As soon as he stepped in, he realized why he might not have been wanted at this particular moment.

Dozens of fabrics were… well, everywhere. On every surface, scattered on the floor, and even some stuck hanging from the walls. Yul’s concern grew, as well as his utter confusion and astonishment at how the house could have gotten this messy.

He followed the sounds of distress until he reached the doorway to your room— exactly what he expected. A harsh shout for everyone to get out sounded, and the silence that followed was almost deafening. Yul waited just outside in almost frozen shock, registering that the shout must have come from your mouth. Never in his life had he heard you shout. You barely ever got angry. A row of servants quickly filed out of the room, each bowing their head in shame.

Yul breathed out heavily, considering whether it would be wise for him to just leave now and not bother you. The last thing he wanted was for him to make you more upset, especially if you felt like you needed to be alone. But he couldn’t bear to leave when he could just make out your broken sobs and sniffles from the closed door. It was the most heartbreaking sound he had ever heard.

He slowly slid the door open a little to peek inside the room, being as quiet as possible in order to not startle you. The room was as messy as the rest of the house— extravagant fabrics strewn all over the floor and tables. You were sitting in the middle of the room, hunched over yourself. Yul noticed that you were dressed in a particularly elegant white hanbok dress that draped over your figure perfectly.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” He spoke as softly as he possibly could, making sure he didn’t make the situation worse. He wanted to help lessen your tears, not create more. His soft approach seemed to have the opposite effect that he wanted, though. As soon as you heard him, you startled and turned around quickly. Upon laying eyes on him, your sobs only got worse and you immediately hid your face. Yul’s heart sank.

“Love? Tell me what happened.” He coaxed, kneeling down next to you, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder. He could feel how tense you were, but also how you softened ever so slightly once you felt his touch. He felt relieved that he didn’t seem entirely unwelcome. “Can I help at all?” 

“No! It’s— it’s all ruined, Yul! W-we should have never tried in the first place!” You cried, heartbroken, and Yul frowned again. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his strong arms around you in a safe embrace. It was clear that he wouldn’t get an answer to what started this mess until you had calmed down a bit. He stroked your back and softly shushed your sobs, waiting patiently for your crying to subside a little. When it finally did and your face was dryer, he pulled away from the hug slightly and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong now, love?”

You nodded, eyes focusing on a certain spot on the floor as you started explaining in a mumble, “It’s stupid, but… Since I can’t make my own dress, I wanted to get it from this particular dressmaker. But with our wedding in 4 months, they won’t have it ready in time.” You looked up at him again to gauge his reaction, your eyes watering again as you tried to go on. 

“I tried the other dresses, but they’re just not the same. I just wanted to look pretty for you, and now— now it’s impossible.” Your face crumbled again as you gripped the current dress you were wearing, looking like you wanted to shred it to pieces.

“What do you mean it’s impossible? You always look pretty to me.” Yul said simply, cupping your face in his hands and brushing away some of the new tears that had escaped. He offered you a soft smile, something that would help reassure you that everything was okay.

“I get that this… dress is important to you. You want to wear it more than anything, right?” He asked quietly. Knowing you and how long you had looked forward to getting married, he knew you had probably planned your dream wedding since you were little. It seemed as if you had had your eyes on this particular dress for years now.

You nodded, “If I had more time, I could order the fabrics myself and sew it… But I can’t. This dressmaker has the best fabrics. You know I know everything about fabric— it’s really important for the design. It just won’t work with anything else.” You sighed, seemingly more relaxed about the situation now, but still disheartened.

“Did you design the dress yourself?” Yul questioned. You had always been interested in textiles, and picked it up as your main hobby for most of your life. Most of your wardrobe was made up of your own designs, and you had even designed some pieces for him. Each design was so detailed and stunning; Yul thought you were better than any other designer he had seen.

“Yes. Songrim doesn’t have good seamstresses, Yul. They’ll mess it up, I know they will. This was supposed to be a mockup, but it’s completely different from my original design.” You gestured to the dress you were wearing right now. Yul looked at it again, trying to figure out what you thought was so wrong with it. It looked beautiful to his eyes, but he knew next to nothing about garments.

“We could always… postpone the wedding?” He offered, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He had already waited so long for this that waiting even longer seemed like torture. But he knew you cared more about the wedding than he did, and he would do anything if it made you happy. 

“But… You wanted to get married before Spring.” You reminded him, heart sinking at the thought of postponing the wedding. It was even worse than not being able to wear your dress. It was clear that you would have to sacrifice one or the other.

“I’ll just pick a different design.” You whispered. “Mine was too complicated to complete in 3 months anyway…” 

“Are you sure?” Yul’s worry reached his voice, and though you didn’t feel quite sure about the decision now, you knew it would all turn out good enough. It didn’t need to be absolutely perfect, sometimes good enough was something you had to accept.

“I’ll save the design. Our daughter can wear it at her own wedding. I’ll make it for her myself.” You spoke, your smile growing as you thought of the idea.

Yul raised an eyebrow, “Our daughter?”

You glanced back at him, “I know you want one.”

He nodded, his face growing a little flushed, “I-I do, but we’ve… never… talked about it before.”

You laughed, “Well, we just did.” You kissed his lips before any more flustered words could come out of them. Despite the disaster that Yul had found you in, and the fact that the situation was still partially unresolved, the kiss made everything feel okay again. You sighed in content at being able to feel his soft lips against yours. Twelve days had really been far too long.

Your hands found their way into his soft brown hair, threading it through your fingers as the kiss went on. His hand cupped your jaw and his thumb stroked your cheek gently as you finally let all the stress of the afternoon panic leave your body. You giggled when you broke apart, your eyes shining with pure love as you looked at your betrothed. His hair had gotten messy from your fingers and his face was flushed as it always was after a long kiss. But he looked so content and at peace, and you savoured knowing that you brought Yul some rare serenity that he had seldom had the luxury of experiencing in the past few years.

“I can’t wait to call you mine.” You confessed, basking in the silent eye contact that Yul gave you. His eyes seemed to hold a million different emotions, all of them professing his undying love for you.

“You know that I already am, love.” He whispered back, pressing his lips to your temple forehead one more time to complete the statement.

↳ k-drama taglist: @eternalgyu,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @tempobaekh,, @candewlsy,, @cosmicwint,, @cyberpunksunwoo

[deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth]

Im Gonna Crawl

Chapter 3 

  We pulled up to The Garden and travelled under the arches taking us to the back of the arena; a safe space to exit and enter. Even through the back we were unable to avoid the small and ever-increasing crowd already surrounding every bit of sidewalk real estate in a sloppy at best line. More like a hoard. Like Night of the Living Dead except it's just teenagers, lovers, and potheads. 

We walked the corridor, reaching the heart of the hall where a staggering number of roadies stood preparing, discussing. 

In the crowd I spotted Robert in the middle of the group looking slightly puzzled. He met my gaze and grinned, waving the roadies off, he strolled past them. 

“My darling girl, California.” He bared his teeth in a goofy smile. 

I looked at him puzzled. “I’m not from California.”

He shook his head back and forth. “No, but you bring the sunshine with you.” 

“You know, Cali is short for something.”  

“Do tell.” He quirked an eyebrow. 

I smiled. “You know it’s been so long I can’t seem to remember.” I teased a finger tapping my chin. 

His eyebrow raised further and I gave him a condescending smile. He opened his mouth but I shook my head. He relented and changed the subject. “I heard you got Pagey quite drunk.” He nudged my arm playfully. 

“I believe Mr. Page was drunk before I met with him.” I stated to which he gave me a look that implied he had figured as much. “He’s quite the character.” I added. 

“Ahh well, he can be a lot of things. Don’t judge too harshly, though.” His brows furrowed. “We’ve been touring too long. It gets harder the longer we go. He’s usually rather shy actually.” He shrugged. 

This was rather hard to fathom. “He didn’t seem shy to me.” 

Robert laughed. “The liquor. It gives him confidence.” 

“Confidence is one word for it. I’d say it makes him act like a cocky little asshole. I can't say I'm overly ecstatic to see him sober.  ”

. “You’re not wrong. But to be truthful, if that’s alright?” I nodded. “Hair of the dog.” He paused. “He’s drunk because he doesn’t want to deal with the inevitable hangover and you caught him off guard and at the wrong time. That drunk fool you’ve seen isn’t all he is.” He laughed once. “Alcohol and a beautiful woman are all it takes to drudge that pesky little demon you’ve met out of him.” He pinched one of my runaway hairs and tucked it behind my ear. “A very beautiful woman.” 

“Are you coming on to me, Robert?” I teased. 

His toothy grin beamed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He looked back over at the group of people surrounding the couches. “James has been brooding in the corner since he got here. I know his moods and what brings them on. So, no I’m not and will not be coming onto you… No matter how much I want to.” He winked. 

“You ready Robert?” Jonesy padded his way over to us. “Cali” He nodded softly; his smile timid. 

“California.” Robert corrected, his grin wide and toothy.

Jonesy raised his eyebrows, panic and blush rising on his Adonis face. “Is that your name? I’m terribly sorry. I must have misheard you earlier.” 

“No Jonesy.” Robert rolled his eyes. “It’s her new nickname.” He stated with childlike pride. 

“Aren’t nicknames supposed to be shorter than the person’s actual name?” Jonesy raised an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know Jonesy. Isn’t your nickname longer than your real name? Even Bonzo’s is longer.” Robert deadpanned.. 

“Touché.” He agreed. “Jimmy’s getting restless.” He pointed his thumb behind him. “Why is he sulking?” 

Robert gave a hearty laugh. “A pretty bird has his panties in a twist.” He winked at me. 

Jimmy was watching us, a sharp look in his eye as a couple roadies fought for his attention over a matter they likely desired more concentration for. The urge to glare like a toddler, far too strong. You're an adult. Behave. 

“Aye, you’re ‘ere!” Bonzo came bounding behind me, scooped me up in a bear-like embrace. 

I gasped as he embraced me, “Jesus, John.” 

“I like this one. Heard you gave the princess a run for his money.” His laugh, deafening and contagious. With a pat on the back he set me back and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Say, you got any Mary-Jane?” He wagged his eyebrows. 

“Sorry, I left it back at the hotel. You can have your way with it when we get back.” His brown eyes were deep and warm. Something about the golden hues made me feel warm, comforted, and safe. “You have beautiful eyes.” The sentiment was light.  

“Uh-oh Jimmy better buckle up or Bonzo here’s gonna steal his woman.” Robert wagged his brows fervently. 

I shook my head, looking down at my feet. “I’m sorry to break it to you boys but I’m already taken.” I regretted saying it the moment the words left my lips, it felt like a lie. IT IS A LIE. Come on, you can't be seriously rethinking the end to that relationship. When I looked back up Jimmy was standing behind Robert and Jonesy, his eyes on me. 

“That’s a terrible shame for us!” Robert beamed. “He’s a lucky fella.” 

“Let’s go.” Jimmy muttered impatiently before turning around and heading for the stage. 

“Jesus!” Bonzo sighed under his breath. He dropped his arm from my shoulders and gave me a face like he was in trouble. “Duty calls.”

Robert pecked my cheek as they all followed suit. Peter motioned for me to join him and a couple of backstage workers. “Gentleman, this is Cali. She’ll be working with us for the next week or so. Don’t bother her, don’t pester her, be gentlemen.” With one terrifying look they simply nodded. “Now get to work, for fuck sake.” 

“Hey, Peter!” A man wrapped in cords by the stage called for him. 

“Excuse me.” Peter’s irritation was apparent. I wondered if there was ever a time he wasn’t on some kind of edge. A time where his shoulders could lax, his mind could wander, and he could take a breath without it being hindered by another situation needing resolution. I supposed it was hard to keep four grown men living a teenager’s dream in check. 

“You must be Cali.” He was tall and domineering, eyes dark, energy not quite readable. “Richard.” He held his hand out to meet mine. “I’m the road manager. I take care of the boys and make sure they get everything they need or want.” 

“Pleased to meet you.” My smile forced. 

“Peter asked me to make sure you’re comfortable and have everything you need.” His mind very obviously focused elsewhere. “Anything you need?” 

“Actually, I was wondering if there was a phone I could use.” 

His eyes flashed as he grinned. “Follow me.” He turned and headed down a hall passing by multiple dressing rooms. He finally stopped at one and let me in. “There’s a phone in there you can use. Don’t be too long. The band shouldn’t be long with rehearsal.” 

He turned on his heels and sauntered back down the corridor. I closed the door behind me, fumbling to find the light switch. A quick glance around the room indicated it was in use by one of them. Hanging in an open-faced closet was a black velvet suit. I fingered the material, curious. Patches and sequins placed in precarious places creating flowers, dragons, planets, – Saturn to be precise – and odd embroidered symbols. Instantly I assumed this was Jimmy’s. It screamed, him. Dark, mysterious, confusing, asshole. 

I shook my head rid of him and picked up the phone. Taking a deep breath I dialed the number. It rang twice. 

“Hello?” It wasn’t Daniel. It was his roommate, Craig. I internally cringed. He was almost always around and always had the urge to put his two-cents into every conversation. Especially the ones he wasn’t a part of. 

  “Hey.” I sighed. “Is Daniel there?”

“Oh, hey Cali! So, you finally deigned to call? Daniel’s not very happy with you. You know–” 

“Is he there?” I cut him off. Am I seriously about to be lectured by this guy? Fuck off, pal.

“No.” 

“Well can you tell me when he will be there?” 

“Well I could, or you could just leave a message for him and I’ll have him call you when he’s available.” 

I leaned against the counter and exhaled a long breath, closing my eyes. “Just tell him I’ll call later.” 

“You know you really hurt him...” He pressed. 

“I hurt him?” My tone was incredulous. “That’s a joke, right?” 

“Hey, hey. No need to shoot the messenger.”

“Tell Daniel I’ll try him later. I’m busy.” I gave up. 

“Busy huh?” He made an unnecessary noise with his lips. “He told me what you’re doing… Shame, shame.” 

“What exactly is it that you think I'm doing? You know what? Never mind, fuck off, Craig.” I slammed the phone back on its cradle. “Fuck!” I yelled. 

“Now whose panties are in a twist?” I whirred around, startled. Jimmy leant against the doorway. What is with this guy and doorways? His eyes were full of curiosity, lips turned up at the corners. Of course he's amused.  

“I’m sorry, this is unprofessional but I don’t have the patience for you right now, Mr. Page.” I pushed myself off the counter. 

He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. “You’re in my room.” 

“My apologies.” I mimicked his grimace and pushed past him. 

He grabbed a hold of my wrist and pulled me in close, his breath tickling my ear. I shivered under his touch. “If I find you back in here, I won’t be such a gentleman.” He moved his lips away and supported my eyes with his. The deep emerald of his iris’s stunning. 

I opened my mouth to speak but before I could he let go of my wrist and disappeared into the dressing room, closing the door in my face. 

“Twat.’ I breathed. 

* 

“What’s on your mind?” Jonesy lightly touched my forearm bringing me out of my reverie. 

“It’s nothing.” I shook my head and smiled at him. 

It was insisted that I join Jonesy and Robert in one of the limos back to the plane for an early supper before the show. I hadn’t seen Jimmy since he had closed the dressing room door in my face, my encounter with him lingered in electric fizzles just under the thin layer of skin on my wrist. 

“You haven’t touched your food.” Robert pressed. “Are you sure it’s nothing?” 

I looked up at him and forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry, my mind is just elsewhere at the moment.” 

“Aye California! You ready to break into the good stuff?” Bonzo yelled from the doorway of the dining room wagging his eyebrows. He entered the room, Jimmy trailing along behind him, his usual dark cloud following wherever he went. 

Holding up a finger, I jumped up from my seat and padded into the other room where My luggage had been left. 

The thing about a big Jet plane is voices travel. 

“What did you do, Jimmy?” Robert was quiet in tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Percy.” Jimmy answered, his voice raw.  

“She was fine until–” Robert started. “She’s cool, man. Don’t mess thi–.”

`

“I didn’t do anything.” Jimmy cut him off. “Her phone call must have set her off. She left the room after she hung up.” 

“Shh.” I heard Jonesy. “You’re both idiots if you think she can’t hear you.” 

I grabbed the cigarette box that held a handful of joints and joined the boys in the other room. “Here you go, John.” 

“Bonzo.” He corrected me. He opened the case and passed me a joint. “Ladies first.” 

I took the joint and placed it between my lips, running my hands over my pockets looking for my lighter. 

“Here.” 

I looked up and Jimmy was standing in front of me, his lighter lit under the joint. He watched as I inhaled, his eyes burning into mine. He dropped his gaze and a shiver went down my spine. “Thanks.” He nodded in response. passing the joint to Bonzo I excused myself. 

Feeling slightly dazed by the major whiplash Jimmy was giving me, I walked out of the plane and descended the steps. When I was on solid ground I looked up to the sky, closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath, slowly exhaling. 

“Am I under your skin yet?” I hadn’t heard his approach. My eyes shot open. He took a swift step back and smiled; his eyes blank.

“No.” I said too quickly. 

His face contorted into an amused leer. His teeth dug into his lower lip as he looked me up and down. “Come.” He closed the space between us, his hand hovering over my hip. “Take the car with me.” He nodded toward the Cadillac, his eyes never leaving mine. 

The chaos he exuded had me frozen. I opened my mouth but failed—to his delight—to form words. He bit his lip again and grinned. “Breathe, sweetheart.” He pressed his hand to my hip, wrapping his fingers around me firmly. 

I took in a breath. “James—” 

“Aye, California!” Bonzo yelled. 

Jimmy took his hand off my hip and took a firm step back just as Bonzo exited the plane door. 

“This is some amazing shit!” He bounded down the stairs. “Why’d you leave?” 

“Just needed some air.” I smiled. 

“You too, Pagey boy?” He wagged his brows. 

Jimmy was unimpressed. “I’m heading to the venue. Cali agreed to come with me.” He smiled slyly. “Didn’t you?” He shot me a look. Just as I was about to protest, he added. “To use the phone there of course. You did say you needed to call… Daniel… was it?” 

How much of my conversation with Craig did he hear? I narrowed my eyes slightly and faked a smile. “Of course. I’ll see you there.” I nodded to Bonzo and turned on my heels. Jimmy ran ahead of me and held the car door open. I hopped in and scooched to the farthest seat, ignoring him as he followed me in. 

“Are your mood swings clinical or are you just deranged?” I was exasperated by the three different personalities of his that seemed to pop up unannounced.  

He rolled his eyes and ignored my question. “The Garden.” He murmured to the driver. As the car started moving, he slid across the seat until his shoulder lightly grazed mine. He turned his head towards me, his eyes staring forward. “I will win your heart.” He stated quietly, cocky. “Or at the very least this.” His fingered reached the hem of my shirt, his touch light as a feather against the skin of my lower abdomen.

I flicked his hand away. “You won’t.” I nodded in his direction. “There’s a whole seat beside you, please move.” 

“You’re suddenly so sure of yourself.” His hand moved to my knee. 

“I’m still sure of myself.” His hand moving up, fingers soft as feathers along the inside of my thigh. “Remove your hand.” My breath hitched to his amusement. 

He turned his face now to look at me. “Are you sure?” He stopped moving and pressed the pads of his fingers into my skin. He leaned in closer, his lips brushed against my cheek, a finger on his other hand pulling my chin toward him until his lips hovered over mine. “Should I stop?” His warm breath made me tremble. I started to turn my face away but he traced a finger along my jaw and pulled me back. “Tell me you want me to.” He whispered. 

  Despite the distaste in my mouth I trembled under his touch. “I…” It was a whisper, unwelcome and juvenile. Disappointment was evident in my tone. It was hard to tell whether it was directed at myself or at his pathetic attempt at a shot but nonetheless it had me weak.

The car came to a stop. Startled out of his trance I turned my attention to the window, we were outside the stadium. Turning back he clutched my chin softly holding me in his gaze once more. His thumb brushed along my lower lip, eyes suddenly warm, gaze almost somber. As casually as he could muster he leaned into me. 

I backed away from him, his eyes bewildered and filled with the harsh sting of rejection. “No.” I whispered before leaving the vehicle and disappearing into the venue without him. 

I raced through the halls, head swimming, lungs unable to hold the air I breathed. When I had run far enough, I stopped and leaned against the cold concrete wall. I slid down and sat on the floor clutching my head in my hands. 

My head was loud and aching. I couldn’t fathom my slight attraction to the man who so clearly was childlike in pursuit of someone who didn’t want him, someone who turned him down. And yes, you can totally want somebody but not want to be with them. Rejection must be something he rarely experienced. I was more irritated with myself than him. People are who they are. You can’t expect someone to be a fictionalized version you create. You have to let people be who they choose to be.

I pondered what distaste I held for his multiple personalities. I sighed heavily, my head growing louder and overwhelmingly hard to keep quiet as multiple trains of thought ran rampant within the walls of my skull. “God, I need a drink.” I whispered to myself. 

“I can help you with that.” Richard was looking down at me with a big grin. “Come.” He held his hand out to me, pulling off of the floor. 

“Thanks.” I followed him down the hall to the backstage that Peter had brought me to earlier that day. He guided me to the bar and poured me a glass of whisky. 

“Jimmy said you liked it.” He held the glass out to me. 

I could feel my cheeks starting to flush and internally kicked myself for letting him get me worked up. I was here to do a job and that’s all I wanted out of this experience. Richard noted my blush and the corner of his lips twitched. “Be careful.” He murmured ominously before vanishing into a new crowd of people. 

I sighed laboriously before I tipped the glass to my lips and took a sip. The burning of the liquid warm and soothing as it slipped down my throat. I smiled against the glass and took another sip.  

“Not chugging the bottle this time?” Jimmy bumped my shoulder coldly as he walked by. I watched him walk toward a group of young girls who immediately started fawning over him and to the surprise of a thin brunette he grabbed her hip, turned his head in my direction, making eye contact with me, his lips a hard line before taking the girl toward the dressing rooms. 

“Classy.” I shook my head. As I watched him recede from view, my heart dipped. I hated myself for the feeling. I looked down at the glass in my hand, “Fuck it.” I shrugged and consumed the contents in the glass before pouring another one. I drank the whole glass again, feeling it swirling in my blood and twirling in my head. Drinking had always been casual and still the cordial relationship we shared was quick to turn toxic.

“Whoa slow down, little girl.” Robert gave me a worried smile. “Did you get a hold of your man?” He shimmied his shoulders as he said it. 

“No, I haven’t tried yet. It can wait.” I swayed slightly on my feet but balanced myself out again.  

His eyes heavily surveyed me as he plucked the empty glass from my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Come with me, darling.” His tone light and playful. He guided me down the same hallway Jimmy had taken the other girl down. I could feel my body tightening up, my muscles trying to run in the other direction. 

We stopped in front of the dressing room beside Jimmy’s. As I looked at the closed door my legs started to give out. “Whoa.” He breathed out, startled as he caught me and held me up. He held me so our chests were touching, his arms firmly around my waist. Looking up into his baby blue eyes I could see why so many young girls fell head over heels for the man.  

“You’re very beautiful, you know that?” It was a mere whisper. A thought not meant to be uttered. His laugh was a melodic, sweet honey on velvet with a rasp barely audible over its falsetto. 

The other dressing room door flung open, Jimmy trailing behind, his hand still firmly on the knob. His wide grin dropped at the sight of Percy and I, his mouth agape, brows furrowed. 

A thousand miniscule bouts of confidence sparked electric orange within me. With a grin belonging to a deviant, I smiled, a feather light touch of my hand on Robert’s dressing room door knob. “Excuse us.” I opened the door and pulled Robert in, closing the door behind us and locking it. I leaned against the door; my eyes widened in horror. It was childish and petty to say the least. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered to Robert. 

“He’s going to think we’re in here having a quick shag. He’s going to have my head, you know that?” He chided me but a guilty smile played on the edges of his lips. “The look on his face was quite priceless.” He plopped down on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “You’re letting him under your skin.” 

I sat beside him and rested my head on his arm. “I don’t know if I can do this.” I admitted. “Are you sure he is capable of any redeeming qualities?” I was woefully unaware of what exactly he was trying to prove. My only thought was his incessant need to have whatever deluded fantasies and desires his mind could conjure granted at the drop of a hat and getting under my skin or in my bed was his newest conquest. It was something I was not akin to experiencing. Rejection was a large part of life and if you were unable to accept it as truth you were surely going to live a miserable and unhealthy one. 

“Don’t give up now.” He started petting my hair. “Give your man a ring, it will make you feel better.” 

“I think it might make everything worse.” I confessed. 

“How so?” He turned his head to look at me. 

I sat up, pinching my eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze. “A week ago, I caught Daniel cheating. And I haven’t had a real or peaceful conversation with him since. I haven’t even had a real or peaceful day since it happened. I let it muddle everything up.” 

“Is your love with Daniel real?” It was assertive, breathless, sure of itself. The question hung heavy in the room.

I was taken aback. I took a moment to ponder. “I don’t know.” I sighed. “I guess we never really had a great relationship. Most of the time we hated each other but I can’t seem to let go, even though a big part of me really wants to. Needs to.” 

Percy nodded, absorbing my words with quiet thought and deliberation. “Maybe this job is what you need. This…. time away from everything and everyone to really see where your priorities and your heart should be.” He took a deep breath. “And Jimmy, obviously you have an attraction to him otherwise you wouldn’t be in here with me trying to make the bastard go mad… my advice on that would be, my darling, to either ignore him, keep him far in the back of your mind… or to let nature take its course.” He pinched my chin between his finger and thumb. 

“Beautiful man.” I smiled gratefully at him.

“You flatter me.” He feigned modesty. 

The conversation came to a screeching halt with a loud thump on the door. “Lets go, Plant.” Affliction deep-rooted in his gruff exclamation. I questioned whether he was aware of how obvious his disdain was or if he didn’t even realize.

Percy’s eyes were wide as he laughed, pulling deep from within his gut. “You gonna be alright, love?” 

I smiled genuinely with a nod. 

“Good.” He took my hand and pulled me through the doorway into the empty hall. “I guess he left.” He shrugged. “Despite your efforts to make him believe you were going to have your way with me, for the sake of my friendship I think I need to tell him I didn’t shag his girl.” 

“Not his girl. But yes, go save yourself. I’ll make my way there eventually.” 

His smile was sweet as he pecked my cheek.

. 

I stood in the hall after he left, not sure how to take the advice. Without thinking of actions and consequences I turned the knob to Jimmy’s room and slowly opened the door. I peeked inside, the room empty for the exception of his clothes strewn across the couch, his crushed velvet suit still hanging in the closet.  

Taking in a deep breath I gathered my emotions and threw them into the depths of myself to bury. Turning to leave I swear for a moment I managed to jump out of my skin as Jimmy stood in the doorway watching with quiet contemplation, his demeanor different, supercilious and uplifted. 

“I told you if I found you in here again, I wouldn’t be a gentleman.” He smirked at me. It's this smug smile that’s gonna get me fired and charged with assault. 

“Honestly, I don’t believe you could be a gentleman if you tried.” I attempted to stride past him but he grabbed my hand roughly. “No.” I yanked it from his grip and kept walking, not daring to look back. 

“I’ll see you next time, sweetheart .” He yelled behind me. 

I kept walking until I reached the bar, Feeling his static presence as he followed behind. He was quick to take his guitar from a roadie and head to the stage. 

“He just sat there. Wouldn’t even look at me. He just sat there and stared at the door.” Her high voice was almost whimsical as she teared up, her mascara quick to drip down her pink cheeks. The young girl Jimmy had whisked away to his dressing room was sobbing into a handkerchief. “He heard someone in the hall, went out to see and then came back in and kicked me out. I don’t know what I did wrong.” She sobbed louder. 

I couldn’t help myself. “It’s for the best,” I murmured to the girl and patted her shoulder as I walked by. “The man’s got a nasty disease… trust me you don’t want it.” The girls comforting Jimmy’s reject scrunched their noses at the news, whispering amongst themselves, debating on which disease it might be.

Small victories.

Petty? Yes.

Juvenile? You got it, babe, but a victory nonetheless. 

I leaned against an amp, drink in hand and watched the ensuing rehearsal. 

“Cali.” Richard nodded, watching the band. “You seem to be in better spirits.” He remarked, still looking forward. 

“I am.” I smiled. I watched the men onstage, collecting as much insight on them as I could. They seemed to be themselves onstage, Robert, graceful, poised, gallant and wise, Jonesy, quiet, shy and unbelievably warm, Bonzo, loud and chaotic and James, a mysterious, cunning and ominous enigma. There was something dark about him, not just his moods, not the odd chunk of his personality I had been exposed to but something else, something I couldn’t figure out.  

@dreamcastgirl99

[sseniita]

breaking generational trauma*

*pls give me a better name for this, im going insane

“She’s like me.” 

The villain stared at the child bouncing in the hero’s arms. The hero’s expression wasn’t unlike one she had when she begged for mercy on behalf of a civilian. Simpler, it was similar to when she had begged the villain to take care of her dog while she was away on a mission or when she wanted the last slice of pizza. Overall, the helplessly hopeful demeanor on the hero's face was one villain had become not only familiar with, but also weak against. 

“Hero, where did that come from? Put it back.” urged the villain, gesturing towards the bundle of blankets in her arms. 

“I can’t! I won’t!” The hero held the child closer, protectively, as if the villain was the one being irresponsible here. 

“Like you?” The villain asked, intrigued. “There is no one like you, Hero.” 

The hero readjusted the child on her hip, freeing one arm to grab paperwork rolled up in her back pocket. “That’s what I thought! Look!” She hastily handed over the crumpled up letters to the villain. It didn’t take more than reading the title for everything to click. 

“Experiment 02? You mean-?” 

“She’s from the same tests! We came from the same lab! They were going to do exactly what they did to me- to her-”

“Because of the success you were. I get it.” There was a pause between them for a second. 

The hero was godlike in some ways and machine-like in less important ways. A literal biological weapon, forged since birth. It was an experiment, you could go so far as to call it an accident. Purposeful or not, the hero was the result of a successful lab sourced super-power. It had taken many years for the hero to come to terms with how she became the hero she was, and even longer to investigate and ultimately discover who was behind all of it. Evidently, she had. 

“I can’t let them do it again.” She whispered, holding the child closely to her chest.

It was six months into knowing each other that hero confessed she didn't like being a hero. It was eight months later the villain found out why.

The villain sighed, motioning for her to walk into his apartment. Once they were comfortable on the villain’s couch, he began to ask a million questions. 

Where? A hidden lab. Why? She couldn't leave her there. Her answers we stable and much too clear of mind considering the hero had just stolen a child.

“How old is it?” He finally asked, skimming through the lab documents. 

“It's her. And about 4 months, I think. I just don’t get why they’re starting now. I never found any evidence to show they were doing anything before.” She restlessly bounced the baby. “I just don’t get it.”  

The villain raised a brow at her, she raised one back. “What do you know?” she scooted closer to the villain. 

“Superheroes are either decommissioned or retire around 50. But most lose relevance and popularity by 30. Whether it be they can’t keep their figure, or a newer, shinier thing comes around.” He scoffed. “Never ceases to amaze me” he said half-heartedly, staring down at the documents. The hero’s mouth dropped. 

“I just celebrated my 25th birthday?! You’re saying I’m old and ugly?!” The villain rolled their eyes. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect and probably always will be." He realized what he had just said, he quickly interrupted the hero as she was about to open her mouth. "It’s just how it goes. Once you reach 30, people aren’t as interested. It’s fucked.” The hero quickly caught on. 

“So, she’s my replacement?” 

“Seems like it. Nova, she’ll be called once she turns 15. Thankfully, tests hadn't started on her. They had her on weird ass diet to prepare her, though. You caught her in time.”

The hero was sitting close enough that the villain could peek at the baby’s sleeping face. She was so serene and had no idea what had already been laid out for her, all the pain and suffering, in the name of good. She’ll have no choice. Just like the hero. The villain often stared at the hero in the domestic settings they sometimes found themselves in. He’d imagine her on a lunch break from some normal, boring office job when they got late night coffees during the hero’s night shifts. Or at a dinner party whenever they teamed up and went undercover at some fancy party. God- he would have given anything to save his hero from the fate that was chosen for her.  The little girl had chubby cheeks and looked so dreadfully soft. Just like the hero.

Shit. The villain thought, looking at the baby. I have a chance to save you. 

  The villain sighed and leaned back, done reading the crumpled pages, discarding the documents on the coffee table, defeated, just like that. It only took 10 minutes. Maybe he had gone soft.

“Eloise. Her name is Eloise.” He exasperated.  It was heart wrenching to hear the hero start to coo at the baby. “No living family.” He hammered the last nail on his coffin. 

“Hello, little Lulu. Is that your name? Lulu? You’re so cute! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” She baby-talked, pecking kisses all over Eloise's forehead, evidently disturbing her sleep. “Oh sorry- sorry!” she whispered to the baby. 

She turned to the villain, eyes twinkling with hope. “I can keep her? Right?” The villain crossed his arms. 

“Hero, I’m not going to tell you what to do.” 

“Haha- that’s your way of saying you unconditionally support me.” She said as she cuddled the baby even closer. 

“Please let that child breathe, hero. You can’t hold her too close.” He reached a hand to push the baby a little further away from the hero’s chest. She beamed. “You’d be a great dad! Already keeping me in line!”

Please don’t start. 

 Despite himself, he looked for the best way to act disinterested and yet not fully close the window on that chance. 

“No hero. I know how much this means to you, but I’m not taking care of a baby. I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten- I’m a villain. This is no environment for a child- even if I wanted one. You have my approval if that’s what you’re looking for, but that’s it.” 

The hero ignored that, making a show of looking around the villain’s extremely cosy and expensive flat. Dark green wallpaper with flowers, a white brick fireplace with old books on the mantel. The place was decorated with the plushiest of carpets, and liveliest of plants. Each curtain hid a beautifully ornate window overlooking one of the safest areas in the inner city. The hero could see the hero offices which she resided in from here. Finally, her stare landed on the large spare bedroom where not only did the hero have a drawer of her things but had also spent countless nights in, recovering and playing patient to a medically trained villain. She raised her eyebrows at the villain. 

“No.” 

“Please.” 

“Hero. You are always the one saying you wanted a family. This might be your only chance- ok, I get it. But she can’t stay here. 

“I live in the dorms of the Hero Offices with 20 other heroes! I don’t and can’t have my own place! I’ll be found out for sure! There are probably a million people looking for her right now!”

“Hero-” 

“Villain please. I can’t let them find her. I need you.” She placed a hand on his thigh, seemingly not noticing the villain’s twitch. 

“Hero. I’m not a good person, you seem to forget. You cannot have that much trust in me-” 

“You are the only person I can trust. Please.” She begged. 

Perhaps the villain wasn’t the only one to blame, perhaps both of them had let this get too far. It started off normally, the fights, the one-liners, and bruises. And out of nowhere, the subtle flirting, the late night talks, the absolutely vulgar displays of emotions they’d never shared with anyone else, hit them like a brick. The hero had changed the villain’s life for the better. He no longer felt unbearably lonely and burdened, haunted by the constant terror and forcefulness of his occupation.

Villain had fallen in love months ago. And he had gotten far in distancing himself and learning to un-love. Now he had to take care of a baby with her that just happened to look like a perfect combination of both of them? His dark hair and tanned skin, her warm brown eyes and button nose. Just perfect. 

“Fine.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the hero leaned against him, setting her head right under his neck, thankfully she didn’t hurl the baby to give him a hug. Maybe I deserve kisses on my forehead for Gods’ sake. He quickly hurled that thought away. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She beamed, kicking her feet. “This means so much, you have no idea!” 

“Hero, this is temporary. If anyone finds out about this-” 

“Ya, ya, I know. Don’t worry. Everything will be ok! I’ll make sure of it!” 

The villain’s only hope was believing her. She was an atom bomb inside a 25 year old woman after all. Maybe he shouldn’t underestimate her. As she moved in towards the guestroom with Eloise, the villain watched intently, she set her down for a nap on the bed, and once she finally came out she looked determined and extremely excited. She plopped down on the couch making sure they were touching side by side so the villain could look at what she was seeing on her phone. Her fingers scrolled down a website titled ‘what to buy when you're expecting’ the villain groaned.

After an hour of the hero paraphrasing a multitude of blogs and villain jotting down notes, they had completed a list of things they needed to raise a child. The hero deflated when she mentioned how they’d have to skimp out on baby toys and clothes, but she quickly recovered after the villain reassured her money wouldn’t be an issue. Apparently villainy had its perks. 

“So what are you going to do about the corporation? Can you really make sure this won’t happen again?” The villain asked the hero from the entrance way. The hero walked over, baby in arms, the villain helped the hero get her coat back on. 

“Uh well. I maybe, sort of, accidentally, may have burned the place down…? Timidly she made eye contact with the villain who only chuckled. 

“I may have also stolen any hard drive I could have found and threw it in the river.” The villain’s laugh only continued as he put a hand on the small of her back and led her out the door. 

As they were walking to get a car seat- the first of many things on their list- the hero had asked the villain to hold Eloise while she used the lady’s room. She had been asleep when the villain got her but quickly after, she woke up. The villain immediately felt a panic and he feared she might start crying, he held her close, bouncing and hushing her to get her back to sleep. Eloise stared up at the villain for a long time before breaking into giggles, reaching her tiny arms up to touch his nose, getting the attention of the shoppers who started cooing at the handsome man rocking the baby with the loudest giggles ever.  

Right then and there, as he felt the tiniest, softest hands grab his nose, the villain knew he was completely and utterly wrapped around, not only the hero’s finger, but of these tiny fingers as well.

pt 2

[lanymme]

Falls to my knees , hiii so like... the requests.... would you be so kind as to consider Ushiwakamaru|Yoshitsune (and her wife Shizuka Gozen....) (she gets 1 dialogue in Heian-Kyo (Incredibly romantic line about wishing to follow Yoshitsune until the very end) and mentioned in Little Big Tengu)

Scenario... Ushi getting reminded of Shizuka and realizing how much she misses her...im basic i am starved

The idea of Ushi joining the "i miss my spouse" club and Tomoe being there is hilarious honestly. I am rambling

I am very sorry if this ask was too late </3

The monkey's paw curls.

Sure i can write that for you!

/\/\/\/\/\/\

It’s a quiet, clear night, the full moon shining brightly down on the trees, the courtyard, the roof of the mountaintop compound.

Sitting on that rooftop, one knee tucked up and the other dangling casually from the edge, foot swaying back and forth, a figure clad in a Japanese armor sits alone, drinking and looking out at the light of the city far below, long unbound hair fluttering slightly in a gentle breeze.

Behind them, a scattering of gold motes of light blows into shape and coalesce, as a woman dressed in similar armor stands behind them, posture straight and proper, sharing the same view.

“Ah, Lady Archer.” Her voice, normally energetic or cheerful, is subdued yet friendly. She turns, casual and unmannered, to smile thinly through the weight of emotion at her guest. “Please, come,” she says, offering the bottle and a small cup to her visitor. “Share a drink with me, and some familiar company in this foreign land.”

Archer ignores her offer, continuing to stare out into the city.

“…Lord Saber. I would kill you here, now, if our Masters were not allied.”

“Mm.” She nods, acknowledging the statement as true, if not important. “Such is the nature of the war we fight.”

Archer’s eyes narrow.

“…I will state the truth plainly, then. I would kill you if there were no war. Knowing you live, I would seek your death. Only duty now stays me from seeking vengeance for my Lord.”

Saber takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, staring out over the city.

“…Fair enough. I can’t apologize for anything I’ve done to serve my own Lord. But, if my Master permits, once our alliance is over, I will give you a proper fight to the death.”

The wind blows through the trees, rushing, cool. The tips of Saber’s hair blow in the breeze. She takes a sip, and studies the bottle of alcohol with casual interest.

Archer’s fists clench, the sound of friction audible like a creak of leather, before she lets her fair, callused hands relax.

“I am surprised to hear you’d take consideration for anyone other than the master you serve.”

Saber’s head bobs in positive appraisal. She continues to stare out into the night.

“My Master told me to convey to yours that he is to meet her in the shed tomorrow in the morning to discuss plans regarding Caster and Rider.”

Saber nods again. She stares into space for a moment, as she convey the message through the link.

Then, she takes another sip of alcohol, looking up at the moon.

Archer waits a few minutes longer.

Her eye twitches.

Just as she prepares to leave, Saber speaks again.

“It was a night like this, when I last saw my love.”

Archer regards her carefully.

Saber smiles, wistful, fond. “She liked to go for walks at night, and I would go with her, and stand close to keep her warm. Even on hot summer nights.”

For a moment longer, she looks out over the edge, features softened into a sad smile.

Then her face falls.

“But the last night I saw her… we didn’t have time for such happiness, such peace.”

She looks down, now, into the courtyard, at the earth.

“My retainers managed to convince me to run, when my brother decided to put me down. I gave it my best, really. But I knew he would catch up to me. And… I think she knew, as well.”

Archer stares at her, uncompromisingly.

“She wanted to stay with me, even so. I never… really understood people, or love. I don’t know what I did to deserve such loyalty. Or maybe that’s just how she was. But I appreciated it. I needed it. To know there was someone with me who would never move, never leave, even as I am… how I am. Who really cared.”

“If you really appreciated it,” Archer says, voice heavy, tinged with venom, “then why. Why did you send her away, before the end?”

Saber turns and looks at her. She smiles, faintly.

“Because I wanted her to live.”

Archer snaps.

“Selfish! You say you appreciated her loyalty, yet you would trample it for your own selfishness!”

“…Mm. It was selfish.”

Archer stalks toward Saber, where she sits balanced at the edge of the roof, “If her love, her loyalty truly meant so much to you, then why deny her the chance die alongside her Lord!” she demands, breathing hard, long-restrained anguish bleeding through into her fury.

Saber makes no move to respond, to back away or take a defensible position. She curls, hugging the knee tucked up against her chest, eyes cast down.

“Because… I always knew she would die for me, but I… I would always serve my liege, first. In the end, though, when my brother decided I should die… I thought, for once, I would like to return that devotion. To thank her, for always… for always supporting me. If I was to die… then I could still give her a life, to live on. I could do that for her, at the end.”

“I was never good at expressing my feelings. I knew enough, to know it would hurt her. But still… I wanted to do that for her.”

She takes a sip of alcohol, and smiles ruefully.

“I failed in the end, though. My brother captured her anyway. I was dead, by the time it happened, but…”

Archer stares at her, still breathing hard, glaring, body tense. But the earlier fire is gone from her eyes, and they instead search through old emotions.

“… We do not decide how fate will turn. It is the choices we make that speak for us.”

A moment later, she turns away.

She pauses.

“…Saber. The Master you serve…”

“Hmm?” Her face brightens visibly.

“…” Archer looks up, over the compound, fists balled at her sides. “…That person is not worthy of your devotion.”

She dissolves again into swirling gold motes of light, and they blow away in the gentle night breeze.

“… I wouldn’t know,” Saber says, to the empty rooftop. “I'm not the best judge of people. All I want… is the chance to faithfully serve, until the end.”

—

Cautiously, Tomoe Gozen enters the ruined compound, the remaining fires burning low. The building where she spoke with Saber on that night in the first days of the War is rubble, pulverized by the shock of Rider’s Noble Phantasm, and then cleaved in half.

Master— she begins, reporting out of habit.

Foolishness. Her gentle, composed Master is gone. She feels the loop of prayer beads at her side where they hang under her robes.

Rest easy. For my Master’s sake… I will see your wish granted. I will save them.

She is cursed, cursed to always be the survivor.

She’s too late to witness the conflict, but the state of the war has shifted dramatically. She picks her way through the buildings to see what she can still learn.

The night is darker, now, the moon waning. The courtyard is in ruins, stones broken and split, the lonely pear tree torn up from its roots. Great slashes are carved into the walls of the sturdy storage building that makes up its other side, and the wall has fallen over.

As she proceeds toward the center of the compound, she finds the headless body of Rider’s Master, lying flat on its back.

One of Caster’s siege defense machines has fallen from the rooftops, burnt almost completely, its bolt still loaded lying on the floor.

She tightens her grip on her self control as her oni blood flares, threatening to overtake her reason. She looks up to survey the surroundings

The other giant crossbows that line the remaining buildings are mostly intact. The one farthest back is split in half, jagged wooden remains stained by a heavy spray of blood.

But they are pointed into the heart of the compound, not at its surroundings.

A trail of blood leads her way deeper into the compound

A pit of dread fills her stomach. She worries at the prayer beads that keep her temporarily sustained with mana, her Master’s parting gift to her.

She materializes her sword with a lick of flames, and raises it in preparation before turning the highly defensible corner.

She finds the remains of the body Assassin was puppeting, leaking black ichor.

A few paces away, one of the giant crossbow bolts has buried itself into the earth. It’s stained red with blood.

The trail of blood thickens beyond it. There are bloody handprints, smears against the walls.

Tomoe Gozen narrows her eyes, and steels herself, and proceeds through the bounded field into the heart of the compound.

It’s burning. Ichor and bloodstains everywhere.

At the far side of the space, the largest crossbow is spattered with blood. Beneath it, the severed sleeve of Caster’s robe lies trampled on the ground. And beside that, a mangled figure.

Maintaining her alert, she makes her way quickly across the space.

Saber—Yoshitsune lies slumped against the building’s wall, still clutching her sword in her hands. Her skin is blistered, her long hair burnt away. Cuts and pierces litter her ruined armor. And a crossbow bolt the size of a wooden beam pins her against the building behind her.

So it’s true. Saber’s Master has taken Rider as his Servant.

The loyal general Minamoto no Yoshitsune has once again been betrayed and cut down by the lord she serves.

Tomoe Gozen feels no joy at the sight of her husband’s killer.

The lively, energetic Saber is almost inert, staring blankly up at the sky with dulled eyes. But as she approaches, she looks up at her in awe. Her sword falls from her fingers. Her bare, dry voice whispers.

“…Shizuka?” Tomoe’s heart drops.

She kneels by her foe, and takes her remaining hand in her own. Sightless, dull eyes cast toward her, feebly.

“… ah. My Shizuka. You’re safe. I’m glad… I’m glad.” She sighs, shuddering. “If you live… then all was not lost. I—“ she heaves a breath, and smiles. “can meet my death, without regret.”

Tomoe takes a ragged breath. Suddenly, her vision is full of tears.

—

“Lord Yoshinaka, I beg of you—“

“I have given you my command!” Her husband shouts, voice trembling with fervor. “Leave this battlefield! I will meet my death with Kanehira at my side!”

He looks at her, then, and feeling flashes over his face. Love. Sorrow. Pain. “I will not—“ his voice chokes, rough, raw. “—be shamed by dying together with a woman.”

She takes in a deep breath, trembling, spine straight, mastering her feelings. Then she bows stiffly.

“—As my Lord orders it.”

Before she turns away for the last time, filled to overflowing with mastered emotion, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes—

She sees something like peace come over her husband’s face.

—

She trembles, kneeling before Saber.

Her mortal foe takes in a slow, desperate breath.

“Ah, but Shizuka. Your Ushiwaka… has so rarely received an injury. It really… hurts, after all.” she laughs weakly, and then coughs, and trails off.

Tomoe draws in a deep breath, steadying herself.

“Lord Yoshitsune,” she says. “Allow me to ease your pain.”

“…thank you,” that haggard voice says, relieved. “Thank you.”

Saber slumps forward, presenting her bare neck.

Tomoe stands, and draws her sword.

“…forgive me!”

With one swing, she separates Yoshitsune’s head cleanly from her shoulders.

A moment later, in a shower of gold mana, the body of her great enemy, of her husband’s killer, dissolves and fades away into the smoke-filled night air.

Tomoe stands alone. She cleans, and sheathes her sword.

“Lord Yoshinaka,” she whispers. “Your wife has avenged you. And if it gave you peace, then I will proudly carry forever the shame and sorrow of surviving you.”

With one final lingering glance at the place where a crossbow bolt lies embedded in the wall, she leaves the place of death behind.

Her Master, still, remains to be avenged.

There are yet more ghosts for Tomoe Gozen to carry.

[12timetraveler]

The Wild Cat

Arthur returns to camp with a Christmas surprise

For @sad-sweet-cowboah for the @rdrevents winter exchange. I hope you enjoy this sweet little story 💙💙

The full story can be read below and on AO3

~~~~~~~

The snow was beautiful, but damn was the winter cold. 

The gang had tried moving a bit further south before the snow hit, but had only made it to a moderate climate before the snow hit and it became too much to move further. So while you weren't stuck up a mountain, you weren't in the nice warm desert either. 

Perhaps you were being a little extra grumpy this morning. Arthur had gone out on an errand for Dutch and Hosea, delivering mail and stopping at a fence to exchange some items for cash. Nothing dangerous, but it was a bit of a ride. Without your sweetheart sleeping beside you, the night had felt cold and long. Fortunately he should easily make it back by later in the afternoon. 

As you sipped your morning coffee, looking out over the white valley you were camped in, you tried to keep that positive in mind. He'd certainly been gone longer, and on more dangerous journeys before. But always you felt his absence. 

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), Mrs. Grimshaw wouldn't stand idleness, even when your mind was preoccupied with worry. In fact she seemed more determined to keep you working rather than let you sit in your anxious thoughts. 

By the time Arthur trotted in around sunset, you'd helped Pearson prepare some meats to preserve, had melted snow into water to do the washing, gathered coals from the fire pits to help Pearson cook, and helped patch a hole in Javier's jacket. Now you were taking some time to check the horses, picking snow clumps out of their hooves and making sure none had any injuries unnoticed. 

You didn't even have to look up when you heard the heavy footfalls of Boadicea crunching through the snow toward camp. Arthur’s snappy retort to Lenny’s call of “Who's that?” Was possibly the sweetest sound you'd heard all day, as grumpy as it was. He wasn't a huge fan of the cold either, and it made his rough exterior extra prickly. 

You finished picking the snow clumps out of Old Boy’s back hoof, setting it gently on the ground before straightening out. Arthur smiled as soon as he spotted you over the giant horse’s rump. 

“Hey darlin',” he sighed, dismounting before Bo had even come to a stop. He loosened her girth and removed his saddle bag before letting her loose to get some hay and find warmth amongst the herd. He tried to sling his saddle bag over his shoulder but stopped, lowering it to his side instead. 

“Bout time you rolled in,” you teased, brushing some snow off the fur of his jacket before wrapping him in a hug. 

“If it weren't for the snow I could have made that trip in one day,” he huffed, stomping his feet and rubbing his hands together. 

“Well I'm glad you're back safe,” you cooed, kissing his cheek before hugging him tighter. 

“Careful darlin’. You'll squish ‘im.” He chuckled, gently prying you from his front. 

“Squish who?” You asked, scanning Arthur's body. Surely he wasn't talking about his prick. He always loved when you pressed up against him there. 

“Not that,” Arthur huffed, following your gaze down to his crotch. He undid the top couple of buttons on his coat, grinning all the while as you spotted his surprise. 

An ashy gray fluffball with brown eyes peered out of Arthur's coat. You would have sworn it was a sentient piece of lint. It was hard to tell what the creature was until it let out a pitiful little mewl. 

“Who is this?” You gasped, reaching out to take the little cat as Arthur carefully unlatched its claws from his wool coat. The kitten immediately curled up against you, seeking warmth. 

“He ain't got a name. Yet,” Arthur grinned as he watched the cat search for an entrance into your coat. “Figured I'd leave that honor to you.” He leaned forward, stealing a kiss from you. “Merry Christmas, darlin'.” 

“What... He's for me?” You asked, looking between your sweetheart and the fluffy gray kitten in your arms. 

“Mmmhmm. I remember you talking about that cat you had as a little girl. When I found him I figured I knew someone who'd love him.” 

“Where did you find him?” You asked, watching as the short gray kitten tail disappeared into your coat. 

“Damn near the middle of nowhere,” Arthur huffed, rubbing his gloves hands together. 

“Just wandering the wilderness?” You studied the fluffy little cat, who was now peering up at you from inside your winter coat. “You sure you didn't bring home a mountain lion cub?” You teased.

“Well if you don't want him, give him back,” Arthur pouted. The twinkle in his eyes told you he was just playing along with you. 

“No. He's my little mountain lion,” you huffed, hugging the kitten close. Arthur chuckled. 

“He wasn't quite in the middle of the wilderness. I could see what looked like a homestead that burned down. I'd guess this little guy was the kitten of one of the barn cats. But he was all alone out there.” 

“Poor baby,” you cooed, wiggling your finger at the little kitten. Together you and Arthur made your way to the chuck wagon, and you easily found a can of salmon to feed the starving little furball before heading to your shared tent. The canvas tarps had been lowered around the tent to shield you from the cold, and to protect your privacy from the close proximity of your camp mates. It was still chilly, but the condensed space did provide some warmth. 

The kitten emerged as Arthur cracked open the can of salmon, smelling the yummy treat. Arthur set the can on the ground, and you helped the kitten pull itself out of your jacket. The ravenous little beast began scarfing down the salmon as soon as he was close enough, letting out little “nem nem nem” sounds as he ate. 

Now that the kitten was out in the open, no longer looking to burrow into the nearest coat he could find, you could study his features better. 

He was fairly young. Probably just old enough to be away from his mother. And even though the puffy coat you could tell he was skinny. The ashy color of his fur was textured with blacks and whites, giving a lot of density to his coloring. The tail was stubby like kitten tails are. But as this poor, abandoned kitten stood there, scarfing down the canned salmon, you couldn't help notice the happy way his little tail flicked back and forth. 

“I think he's a Maine Coon,” you mused, examining the kittens features. 

“Huh?” 

“It's a breed of cat,” you explained. “They're most popular up north in, well, in Maine.” 

“You know,” Arthur huffed, sitting beside you on the cot. “I never considered there were breeds of cats like there are horses or dogs. They're just... Cats.” 

“Trust me there are plenty of different cat breeds,” you giggled. “I'm not an expert. But I knew a woman who bred them. This little guy looks a lot like the kittens she had.” 

The little kitten was now finished with its meal and was now taking stock of the new environment. You wiggled your fingers at him, and the kitten focused on on your hand, ready to play now that he'd been fed. 

“If he is a Maine Coon, he's gonna get big,” you giggled, flouncing your fingers out of reach just as the kitten pounced. 

“Oh. So I did bring home a mountain lion cub after all,” Arthur teased. 

“Not quite,” you laughed. “But he will be one long kitty.” 

The kitten pounced at your fingers, narrowly missing your hand with its claws. He latched onto your skirt and climbed your leg, round eyes focused on your hand. 

Arthur watched fondly as the kitten played on your lap. The way your eyes shone down on the little creature, while your lips turned up in a giggle. 

“Do you like him?” Arthur asked. 

“I love him,” you said, grinning up at your husband. “Almost as much as I love you.” you tilted your chin up, and Arthur took it for the invitation it was and snagged your lips in a sweet but loving kiss. 

Arthur broke the kiss with a hiss, and you looked down to see the kitten hanging onto Arthur's hand, claws piercing the wool gloves while tiny fangs tried to nom on his fingers. You giggled and detached the fearsome cat from your husband's glove. 

As you held up the little kitten it let out a big yawn, tiny fangs glinting in the candle light. This time when you set him back in your lap, he curled up in the fabric of your skirt. 

“What are you gonna name him?” 

“I don't know,” you hummed, studying the little kitten. “I was thinking Ash, or Cinder to match his coat, and since he was found by a burned down homestead. Or maybe Coal, since he's a Christmas gift, but I've been very naughty this year.” You giggled. 

“No denying that,” Arthur teased, bending down and nipping at your jaw; the only thing he could reach with your scarf covering your neck.

“Thank you, Arthur,” you sighed, leaning against him.

“Merry Christmas, darlin'.”