#but who the hell is gonna find a word starting with x for their animation you know. like you dont have many choices

[cryptidghostgirl]

so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish

anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)

Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)

They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)

Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip

Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)

The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel

Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)

Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello

Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe

Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)

(Just for example, do what you want <3)

Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )

A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,584

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.

She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.

As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.

She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.

One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.

She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.

So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.

As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.

When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.

Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.

For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.

Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.

Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.

That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.

After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.

"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"

"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.

She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.

"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.

Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.

"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.

"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.

"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.

"Uh..."

Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"

"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.

"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.

Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.

"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.

"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"

"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"

"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.

"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.

Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.

"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.

Y/n poked the shadow again.

"What is this? How are you doing this?"

When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.

"Oh."

She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.

"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."

Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.

"If you're going to be staying her-"

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."

"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."

"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"

"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.

"See?"

"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."

"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"

Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.

"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"

"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.

Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.

"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"

Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.

"Y/n L/n."

Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.

"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"

"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."

The room fell silent.

"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.

"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.

This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.

"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"

Y/n shrugged.

"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."

"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."

Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.

"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

"Yeah?"

"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.

"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"

"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."

Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.

"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."

"Yes...?"

"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."

"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.

She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.

"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"

"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"

"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."

---

Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

[ravenslvt]

Hi! I saw that you're taking requests, so is it okay if I ask for a spoiled city girl! Reader x country boy! Leon?

Reader's father sent reader to spend the rest of the year at her grandparents because he's had enough tolerating her. Eversince she arrived, yeah, the whole town hated her alright. Her grandparents made her do errands and shit and she'd complain and do it lazily.

Leon on the other hand- who's been hearing rumors about this girl, didn't think that she was that bad until he encountered her himself. And hell, she was way worse that bad.

Possible virgin, kinda innocent (only when it comes to ykyk) reader and brat tamer Leon?

Ignore if you're not comfortable with the idea.

🎀 cowboy!leon s kennedy x f!innocent reader 🎀

cw: smut, implied virgin reader, brat taming, sort of hate sex, p in v, oral m! recieving, v fingering, degrating, edging, light spanking

of course there was no cell service in this shithole. you groaned, falling back onto the white sheets of the squeaky bed of the guest bedroom in your grandparents house.

you had taken a gap year off of college, wanting a break and hoping to ‘find yourself’, but you just got unmotivated. your father asked you for months to find a job in the city, but you’d talk your way out of it everytime. of course, enough was enough and when the time came, he had talked to his own parents and decided to send you over to a small little farm town where they retired to, hoping to shape you up a bit. they owned a quaint farm with chickens, sheep, pigs, all a cute little older couple could ask for.

but it was your own personal hell. having to feed, clean, and even pick up after the smelly animals. at least some of them were cute. no technology to ease your mind. it didn’t help your grandparents made you drive their shitty little red truck into town once a week to get supplies, since you were so ‘nimble’ compared to them. to say the least, the whole town was not fond of a bratty city girl storming irritatingly around. refusing to do work, and even when you did, you just half assed it to get it over with.

the local townies and shop workers alike always stared when you’d walk through town with your cute little purse and skirt that rode up your thighs. it was a hot town, what else were you supposed to wear? older women having to slap their husbands when they oogled for too long at the young woman walking into the supply store. that was until you’d start an argument with another customer. they’d either be judging you or too scared to say a word. sometimes both.

in one instance, there was only one stack of bird feed left, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna be the one taking it back to the farm. that was until a prudish older lady grabbed it at the same time as you. your eyes met, challenging each-other. she put on a fake smile. “oh sorry sweetie! need this food for my little chickies at home.” her high pitched voice irritated your head. “oh that’s unfortunate, i need it for the same reason. so if you could take your wrinkley little fingers off of it that would be great.” you yanked it from her hands before she gasped.

“what a disrespectful young lady…” she mumbled, turning around to the door of the door, looking down at her hands as she left. you mumbled a quick curse at her before walking up to the register to pay. the store clerk looked a little nervous, so he rang you up in silence in fear of you lashing out at him.

this was just one of the many incidents since you got sent here.

at least you’d found new hobbies. you started going to the small library whenever you were sent into town. there wasn’t many choices, but that along with a few of your grandma’s books from her collection, you were somewhat less bored. that and you took up sketching. sure this place was boring as fuck, but you couldn’t deny that the scenery was pretty beautiful.

it’s been almost a month since you’ve been here. you silently lounged in the room you’d been staying in, reading some god awful romance novel. you heard your grandma call your name from downstairs. you sigh before getting up. “what?” you yell back, annoyed you got interrupted reading your newly picked up book. she didn’t respond, another tindge of annoyance reaching your skull.

as you walk down the creaky wooden steps, noticing the front door open to find the older woman on the front porch. you heard a deep voice chuckling from outside. walking out, you were greeted with a handsome young man. he only looked two or three years older than you, but he was tall and had a good frame. seems like doing work on a farm for years really builds up muscle. the wrinkled woman calls your name, snapping you out of your trance.

“um, what can i help you with?” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. the man gives you a smile before holding out his hand for you to shake, lowering his dark grey hat to reveal some of his dirty blonde hair underneath. “i’ve heard a lot about you miss, names leon.” his large hand extends towards you. you just eye it and roll your eyes. “hi? can i go now, nana?” you plead to the woman. she just sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder. “pop and i gotta go into town for a couple days for this chicken auction he’s been wantin’ to go to. our friendly neighbor here offered to help show you around the farm a bit. teach you a few things” she eyes you sternly.

“teach me things? i’m not twelve. i can handle myself” you retort, glaring at the tall man. he just chuckles. he had heard from around town you were feisty, but it was even better to see in person. he rests his hands firmly on his hips.

“promise i won’t get in your way, darlin’. we’re doin’ some renovations on my own house a few miles down the road. your kind grandmother here offered to let me stay in the guest house while they’re gone.” he smiles assuringly. you were annoyed. you had already spent the last thirty seconds planning on sunbathing or sitting in your room, free of any work on the farm.

“i just don’t think this is very necessary. surely you can afford a hotel?” you retort back. your grandma gives you a light smack on the back of your head. “sorry ‘bout her. not from here” she smiles kindly at the young man. you just pout. “yeah, thank god” you mumble, causing you to get another light smack.

“oh it’s no trouble at all. got myself a little cousin back home that’s a bit of a brat too.” he comments, his eyes never leaving yours. your face flushes. “excuse me? a brat? fuck off dude-“ you start. “language!” she scolds you. you mumble a small apology to her while still glaring daggers at leon.

leon just stands there, entertained by your little outbursts. he could tell you really did not enjoy being here, but he was ready to fix that. his gaze shifts down to your attire, you clearly didn't pack for working on a farm. always in cute little outfits that you'd always wear back in the city.

your grandma changed the subject, asking leon a few questions about his family and his own farm. you were lost in your own thoughts. at least you'd be stuck with a hot farmer instead of some old creep. maybe you could just fake flirt with him to get him to do all your chores for you. that should work, right?

after a few treacherous minutes of standing on the badly painted white porch, you said your goodbyes. leon gives your grandmother another respectful handshake and he just tips his hat at you while you just stare, giving a tiny wave before storming back inside.

about two days later you said your goodbyes to your grandparents, they gave you some hugs and kept repeating the list of chores they'd tasked you with. feed the chickens, take out the eggs, you really just blocked out their words from entering your head. you just smiled and nodded, waving at them as they drove off the property.

you gave a sigh of relief, leon wouldn't be here for another few hours so you thought you'd have some 'me' time. taking a long hot bath (your grandparents always got mad when you used up too much hot water), reading your romance novel while relaxing in the warm water. your cheeks flushed at a certain scene in the book. you didn't expect the library to carry a literal smut book. the main male character in the novel was going down on the pretty girl, the writing made your stomach churn in arousal. you'd never read anything so... descriptive before.

right before you could turn to the next page when things were getting more hot and heavy, there was a heavy knock on the door. you jerk up from your laying down position in the bath and sigh, leon was early. you lay your book upside down so you wouldn't loose your place, wrapping a small towel around your figure before fully stepping out, draining the bath. another knock and a familiar voice calling your name. "you home?" he calls. "yeah, hold on!" you scurry around, cursing yourself for not laying out clothes beforehand.

you carefully step downstairs and opening the front door, peeking out. leon had a duffel bag with him with his things in it. "um, yeah?" you say, trying to hide your toweled figure behind the door. he smiles. "just need the key to the guest house, darlin." oh right. you nod, grabbing the key hanging near the door and hand it to him, your fingers brushing slightly, making your cheeks heat up. before he could open his mouth to speak, you shut the door on him unremorsefully. "thanks." he chuckles out, turning to make the walk to the guest house about a hundred feet away from the main house. and of course you were the one who had to clean it up before he got here.

after putting on your favorite outfit and boots, you make your way back downstairs for some water. sipping from the clear glass cup, you notice leon outside the window. he was already getting familiar with the animals. he looked good in his light blue button up shirt, it really brought out his eyes. the way he had rolled up his sleeves so his veiny arms were on display. he was squatted down next to the new baby sheep and was petting her. you pouted, she didn’t even let you pet her. you sigh, placing your glass down before making your way outside.

leon’s head perks up as he notices you walking twords him. he gives you a charming smile, standing up from the baby sheep. you speak first. “she lets you pet her? everytime i come near she yells at me.” you cross your arms at the man. he looks back down at the small animal who gave you an angry look, running off somewhere. “you gotta' know how to approach em’. plus they sense your vibes” he adds, his eyes back on you.

“my vibes, huh? what’s that supposed to mean, mister?” your eyes squint at him, a hint of irritation in your eye. he doesn’t feed into your attitude. “leon” he corrects you.

“leon” you repeat. the way his name sounded rolling off your tounge made his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“now-“ he starts, grabbing a nearby bag and handing it to you. “- better start on those chores, hmm?”. you glare at him, scoffing. “you’re joking.” you retort. he just shakes his head.

“i’m here for a reason, darlin’. best get to work so you can get it over with faster.” he shoves the bag in your arms and you give him your best puppy dog eyes. “c’mon leon. you’re so big and strong, i’m sure you’d get it done a lot faster than me.” you bat your eyelashes at him. he seemed gullible enough to seduce. he just chuckles. “nice try, you’re cute” he says, walking off to leave you to your chores. you groan. “fine…” you mumble, walking off to to collect the chicken eggs.

over an hour later, you lie in the green patch of grass, playing with your nails. pouting that cleaning the coop made you chip one. you’d finished majority of your chores, hoping it was enough to get leon off your back. whenever you’d start to walk away from a task, he’d appear to show you what you did wrong and how to improve. you wanted to punch his pretty face.

you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard a deep voice approach you. “takin’ a break?” he says, standing over you. you sigh, not even bothering to look up at him. “i finished for today. i’ll do the rest tomorrow or something.” you continue playing with your nails, still annoyed.

he crosses his arms over his strong chest. “you’re quite the lazy girl, y'know that?” you just scoff. “whatever, asshole” you spit back.

“you got a bit of a mouth on you, don’t ya’?” he squats down so he’s level with you. you finally turn to him, glaring. you angrily stand up, dusting yourself off before gasping. “fuck!” you yell, looking down. your favorite skirt had stains of grass and dirt on them. you didn’t realize the grass was wet before you sat down on it. “are you serious?! this is so gross!” you try wiping the stains off, but only making it worse by spreading them around. you notice leon laughing at you. you turn to glare daggers at the now standing man.

“what the hell is so funny?” your face has annoyance all over it.

“c’mon, let me help you get those stains out, sweetheart. wouldn’t want such a pretty skirt to be ruined” he starts to walk twords the guest house.

“i’m not your-“

“you want that skirt clean or not?” he sighs. you silently nod, following behind him. he opens the door to the clean little house, holding it open for you and shutting it once you were both inside. it was surely nicer than the place you were staying in. a big bed against the wall and a little kitchen table. you remembered staying in here with your father when you visited as a kid. you loved it here back then.

he sets his hat on the counter, finally giving you a full view of his parted hair. he was even more handsome without the hat. he caught you staring and you quickly look away.

“gotta' take the skirt off so i can run it in the wash for you before the stains seep in.” he says, leaning against the counter with his large arms crossed over his broad chest. your eyebrow quirks. “um, i’m not doing that”. he gives you a questioning look. “i’m not wearing anything under…” you add. you only wore your panties under, not wanting to ruin the outfit with ugly shorts. he sighs. a thought flickers in his mind of you taking your skirt off, your pretty ass on display for him.

“fine. you can borrow some of my sweats.” he walks over to his bag of clothes, rummaging through until he pulls out a pair of plaid blue pajama pants. you scoff. “these are ugly as fuck, this is gonna ruin my outfit.” you hold up the pants. they were way too big for you. but they smelled like him. woodsy and a hint of pine. he steps a little closer to you. “if you’d rather let that pretty little skirt get ruined, then be my guest.” he says. you have to crane your neck to look up at him. you sigh, taking your shoes off. “you could just change in the bathroom, you know.” he comments.

“well you could also just look away, pervert.” you say, carefully setting your boots on the floor. he puts his hands up in defense, turning and walks somewhere across the room. “y’know, some day that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.” his voice is lower now, more serious than before. you roll your eyes, shimmying yourself out of your little skirt. “fuck off. you’re not my father.” you bite back, pulling the loose pants over your hips. “these are too big…” you say, holding the pants up or else they’d fall to the ground. he turns and walks up to you, inches away. he grabs the drawstrings, tightening them so hard that you let out a barely audible gasp.

your eye’s focus on his hands. the way they tied the strings perfectly, patting your hip once he finished. “better now?” he asks, looking down at you. you didn’t say a word, just nodding. he smiles. “no words for me from the mouthy girl?” he says. you huff.

“you don’t know anything about me, leon.”

“i know enough. i know you’re an entitled little brat who needs to be put in her place.” he whispered, leaning into your ear. his hot breath left chills down your neck. you could feel your nipples harden against your top. his arms trapped you against the counter.

your eyes finally pull to his, almost magnetically. “what’s your story then, pretty? refusing to work so your daddy kicked you out?” he guesses. you stay silent. he was right.

“what happened to that little mouth of yours? got nothin’ to say now?” he teases, leaning twords your face. fuck, he knew how to shut you up.

“you- i-“ you stutter, unable to respond. he just smirks. his hand slipping to your waist. “you talk all this shit, but can’t handle it comin’ back to you, can you?” god it was almost like he was getting off on seeing your flustered face.

“fuck you-“

“watch your fucking mouth, princess” he practically growls. his grip on your waist only tightens, making you almost whine. his demeanor completely changing from his lighthearted charming self. you felt yourself getting wet from his words alone.

“or what?” you spit back.

“you wanna find out?”

that’s how you ended up with your shaky knees, pressed against the hardwood floor, leon’s big veiny cock sitting right in front of your eyes. his hand was in your hair as your hands nervously reach out to stroke him. he could tell you were inexperienced.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he coos, looking down at you as your small hand wraps around the base of his large cock.

“i don’t- i’ve never-“

“never had a cock in your mouth?” he asks. you just shake your head nervously. he pulsed at the thought of being the first man to be inside of you.

“ever even kissed someone?” he tilts his head.

“just once…” you pout. you were getting tired of his teasing. he just gives your hair a light tug, making you whine. he uses his other hand to bring his thumb to your bottom, dragging it down. you respond, opening your mouth to suck on his thumb. he presses it into your tongue, you swirl your wet muscle around his finger. “good job, see? you got it” he encourages. he removes his thumb, a trail of spit between your lips and his finger.

“now just open your pretty lips…” his hand cups your jaw, you open your mouth. he slides the tip into your hot mouth before hissing. “no teeth, darlin’.” he warns. you nod, taking him deeper. only halfway in and you’re choking around him. he groans at the way your throat contracts around him.

“fuck, you’re a natural slut, aren’t ya?” he grips your hair, moving you up and down his cock. you whine around him, the vibrations sending more pleasure straight to his dick. he abuses your throat and mouth, watching you as tears well up in your eyes. “look at you. your mouth is so much better around my cock.” he lets out another groan when you suck your cheeks in, sucking him off completely.

“think you can swallow all my cum? or are you too good for that, princess?” his voice was horse and low. you just nod, a tear falling from how deep you were taking him. he curses as his tip hits the back of your throat, thrusting his hips to meet with your head. your nose burried in the base of his pelvis. you shut your eyes tight as you feel his warm release down your throat. after a few more thrusts, he pulls out a bit of a mix of cum and spit falling from your mouth. he cups your face. “swallow it.” you gulp, licking your lips and swallowing everything he gave you. you open your mouth to show him.

“such a good little slut, yeah?” he soothes your hair, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes. your cunt was throbbing with need. you look up at him through wet lashes, your mascara was probably running down your face by now. he grabs your arm to help you stand up. your legs were wobbly and hard to stand on. your panties were probably soaked at this point.

your eyes go to his lips and his smug gorgeous face. “you want a kiss?” he asks, you nod. he just chuckles. “too bad” he says, making you whine.

“leonn” you grab onto his shirt, pleading. he just shakes his head. “you need to learn how to be patient, gorgeous.” he warns, grabbing your wrists. “you and that fucking attitude. gotta do somethin’ about that.” his eyes grow darker.

he had a strong grip on your wrists, firm but gentle enough not to break you. it made you shiver knowing how easily he could. fuck it was hot. “i’m gonna fuck it right out of you. got that?” his head lowers to suck marks into your neck and collar bones, making you groan. he bit down in a particularly sensitive spot, making you cry out his name. he pulls away dragging you to the bed. “lay down on your stomach” he commands. your eyes grow wide, about to object until his brows furrow. you lie down on your stomach, your feet dangling off the edge.

you turn to look at leon over your shoulder, yelping when he drags you so your legs hung off the edge of the bed. he quickly pulls the string of your his pants before ripping them down your legs. you gasp at the cold air hitting your bare legs, your panty clad ass on display for him. he gives it a good smack, making you give another yelp into the sheets.

“you’re fuckin’ soaked through your panties. i’ve barely even touched you” he gives a small laugh before pulling your white panties off. his large skilled fingers run through your folds, making you squirm.

smack

“stop moving”

he admired the large hand print he left on your ass, feeling his dick harden again. he started with pumping one finger into your tight little hole, making you gasp. it hurt for the first few seconds, but eventually faded into throbbing pleasure. you let out mewls of enjoyment, crying out into the sheets below you as he jackhammered his finger into your sopping cunt, adding another finger to stretch you out.

“ohmygod leon!” you cry, muffled by the blanket. you’d never felt absolute overwhelming pleasure like this before. it was fucking addicting.

his fingers curled inside of you, hitting a spot that made your belly fill with a hot pleasure. you were so close, so fucking close. right when you were about to cum, he pulls his fingers out.

“leon!” you yell, looking back at him.

“told you i was gonna teach you how to be patient, didn’t i?” you wanted to wipe that smug ass smirk off his face.

you were practically drooling onto the sheets. tears falling down your face as leon edged you for the fifth, sixth time? you’d lost count after the third. “fuck leon! please please please let me cum, m’so close please!” you cry into the bed, resorting to begging. your attitude thrown out the window whenever he curls his fingers inside of you.

“since you asked so nicely…” his thrusts his fingers at a delicious speed, fucking you until you cried out his name. you clenched around his fingers, gripping onto the sheets as your vision blurs. his fingers fuck into you as you cum, coating the sheets and his hand.

“look at you. fuckin' dripping down my wrist.” he groans. he flips you so you’re on your back. you were panting, mascara completely running down your cheeks and a fucked out look on your face. he brings his fingers to your mouth and you immediately open them for him, licking yourself clean off his hand.

“that’s my girl” he praises, making you tingle. you were still coming down from your high, staring at him blissfully. his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. you watch his expression through your lashes.

“you’re so much prettier with your mouth filled.” he smiles, leaning over you. “i think you deserve that kiss now, don’t ya think so?” he asks. you nod. “yes please”

his mouth meets yours in a hot feverish kiss. his hand coming to grip your hair. he bites your lip hard enough to make you gasp. your pussy throbs with need of being filled by him. “leon, please” you beg through the kiss. he pulls away, looking at you.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he kisses down your jaw.

“i-i need you inside, please!” you beg, looking down at your bare cunt.

“aww, you just want my cock so bad, hmm? who am i to deny such a slutty girl what she wants.” he sits up, dragging his long cock up and down your wet folds. when his head caught on your clit, it made you shiver. he teases you, catching his tip on your hole before rubbing up and down again. you whine. he gives you a stern look.

“m’sorry” you pout. he chuckles, slowly dipping his thick head into your tight hole. he eased himself in, making your jaw slack open. once he was fully seated into you, your brows furrowed at the stretch. “hurts, s’too big!” you cry out. he tsks.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he pulls out just to push himself back into you with a powerful thrust. “fuck, you’re sucking me in, baby. must be so worked up. is this why you’re such a bitch all the time? never gotten dicked down properly?” he teases as he thrusts in and out of your abused pussy.

you mewl when his cock hits a deep spot inside of you, but it wasn’t enough. he sensed your need, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders to thrust even deeper into you. the angle made you scream out. your fingers grip into the sheets again. one of his hands find your clit, pinching it.

“y’feel so fucking perfect. like you were made for me.” he groans, loosing his composure. his thrusts got more intense, faster, and sloppier. but still felt heavenly. the mix of his cock hitting your soft spot along with him playing with your clit, you squeeze around his cock, about to cum. drool fell from the corner of your mouth as your tits bounced in your shirt as you came closer and closer to the edge.

“gonna-gonna cum!” you scream. he only goes faster.

“gonna cum with you, baby. bein’ so fucking good for me.” he gets more vocal when he’s closer to cuming. he didn’t know what felt better, your hot mouth or your hot tight pussy. there was sweat dripping down his neck. you wanted nothing more than to lick it up, but didn’t dare move in fear of him not letting you cum. he was in full control. with a few final thrusts, you finish around him with a loud moan. he follows suit, his hot seed filling you to the brim.

you are both panting at this point, but he’s still half hard inside of you. you look at him with heavy, confused eyes when he doesn't make a move to pull out.

“oh, we’re not done until you’re begging me to stop, pretty girl.”

“wow! this place looks amazing! you guys did a great job around the farm!” your grandma smiles at the handsome young man. he gives her his classic innocent charming smile.

“can’t take all the credit, m’aam. your granddaughter did most of the work.” his strong hands rested at his hips.

“how in the world did you get her to do that!?”

you watch from the porch, wearing a sweater to cover all the marks leon had given you. everytime you’d complain about a task, he’d bend you over and fuck you until you were crying for him to stop at the overstimulation.

the older woman called you over to have you help with leon’s bag. you sigh, walking over as she walked away to talk to her husband.

“you still never gave me my panties back…” you lean against his truck, looking up at him. he chuckles, running a hand down your arm.

“think of it as your parting gift to me, darlin’” he says, giving your arm a squeeze before shouting a goodbye to your grandparents and giving you one last wink and a tilt of his hat before stepping into his truck.

maybe this town isn’t too bad….

masterlist

a/n: i got a little carried away with this i just loveddd this prompt. tysm for this request!!!

[nariism]

*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR

pair. itadori yuji x reader

synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.

content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman

wc. ~4.4k

NOVEMBER 1 2018

You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.

"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.

Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.

You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.

Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.

The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.

He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.

And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.

Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.

"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."

Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.

"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.

"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."

"You're not evil, Yuji."

"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.

You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.

"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"

"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.

"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"

His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.

You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.

"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."

You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.

You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.

The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.

"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.

His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"

"I can't until you do."

"That's stupid," he tells you.

It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.

A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.

It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.

You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.

There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.

"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.

"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.

You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.

"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.

"Huh? 2 was way better."

"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.

"2 had the best special effects though."

Your body shifts under his blanket.

"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)

His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.

"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.

Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.

"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.

NOVEMBER 2 2018

You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones. 

You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.

Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.

When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.

"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.

He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.

You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.

He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.

You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.

"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"

He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."

You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.

"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"

He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.

"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"

"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."

Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.

"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."

"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"

Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.

"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.

The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.

You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.

Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.

You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.

A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.

To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.

Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.

The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.

Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.

He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.

You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.

"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.

It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.

The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.

It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)

At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.

Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.

His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.

"What?" You ask.

"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.

"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.

He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."

You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.

Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.

An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?

"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.

He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?

"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."

You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.

For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.

(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)

Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.

You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.

If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.

"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.

But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.

Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.

Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.

He kisses you like it's his last day on earth. 

You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.

Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.

He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.

You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.

It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?

Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.

Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.

"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly.  You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."

There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.

"Like I could just... reach out and—"

"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.

When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.

It was nice to have you fawning over me.

You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.

"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.

(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.

So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)

NOVEMBER 3 2018

The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.

His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.

Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.

It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.

"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.

"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."

"I can fight!"

"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."

Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.

"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"

Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.

You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"

Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.

"We will."

You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.

“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”

You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”

She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.

“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”

“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”

You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.

Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.

“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.

You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.

You watch as they pack up their things.

Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.

Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.

"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"

You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?

He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.

A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."

I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.

He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.

When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.

"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."

Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.

But you stop.

"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.

You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[runnning-outof-time]

Another little request, please don't mind the spam if you don't feel inspired c: <3 "I didn't get your name" + Arthur please!

Thanks so much for sending some extra Arthur in, Shark @call-sign-shark ! I greatly appreciate it! I know I said it before, but it was fun to end this celebration off by showing some love to him…and I wouldn’t be writing for Arthur Shelby if I didn’t add some of his violent self into one of these stories. That’s where I went with this one…trust me, it makes sense…….I think. I hope you like it! Enjoy! :)

Oh and this is the last blurb of this celebration! Thank you to all who read these!! I can’t believe I’ve finally finished writing them!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

What A Way to Meet Your Boss

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, series typical violence, use of derogatory name

Word Count: around 1k (I’m too lazy to find the count)

Summary: (Y/N) meets one of her bosses in a rather…unconventional way. Or maybe it’s very conventional considering the company she works for.

(Y/N) had just finished her tasks for the evening. She made sure that all of her materials were put in places where she could quickly find them tomorrow before grabbing her coat and purse. She exited the Shelby Company Limited building then, ready to get home and relax.

But of course, Birmingham had different plans for her.

“Women as pretty as you shouldn’t be walking alone at night,” a man’s voice came from the darkness of the alleyway she’d just passed. (Y/N) willed her feet to keep walking, knowing that things would turn bad if she stopped and entertained this man. Maybe he’d give up.

But it didn’t pan out that way.

Shoes then scuffed on the concrete as his quick steps were heard behind her. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you, bitch,” he sneered. (Y/N) quickened her pace. “Fuckin’ get back here!” His angered words were accompanied by a rough hand, and (Y/N) was left defenceless as the man effortlessly pulled her back and into his grips. Her eyes widened as the man’s forearm came into contact with her throat. “Gonna make you pay for ignoring me,” he seethed, his mouth right against her ear. “How about you make it easy for yourself?”

The man couldn’t follow through on what he was going to do because the next thing he knew, he was getting the wind knocked out of him; his arms falling slack from (Y/N)’s frame. She didn’t even stop to look and see what had happened, instead moving as fast as she could to get away from the altercation just as it sounded like someone started to deliver a barrage of punches onto her assailant.

It didn’t take (Y/N) long to notice that there wasn’t even much of a fight when she did finally turn around. The man who had his arm wrapped around her neck seconds ago was now curled into a ball on the ground as he tried to stop the madman that had come to her rescue. Even she flinched as the second man landed one more vicious punch before standing tall over the beaten man.

“Please, please…please be done,” the man pleaded, his voice and body shaking.

“You should know better than to fuck with the Peaky Blinders,” the man standing above him bellowed, his voice one that (Y/N) was familiar with, but couldn’t quite put the name to.

“I…I didn’t know that she was a Peaky woman, Mr. Shelby,” the man made an excuse, still pleading for his life. He couldn’t tell if the animal of a man standing above him was finished or not. Hell, he should have known better than to choose to hang around this part of town. Who would have known there would have been a Shelby in the area though, let alone the worst out there all?

“Peaky woman or not, you lay another fucking finger on any woman and I’ll fucking cut them off. You understand me?” the Shelby man threatened.

“Yes, yes,” the man on the ground was nodding his head profusely within seconds of hearing the other’s threats…which should really be considered promises.

“Now get the fuck outta here before I decide to do it now.” That was all the man needed to hear to scramble to his feet and hurry away from the area. It was evident in his limp that he’d been beaten pretty badly, but that didn’t stop him from running as fast as he could. The man left behind couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched him leave. When he’d finally turned a corner and was out of sight, the man turned to (Y/N). “You alright?” he asked, making his way over to her then.

“Yeah,” she answered with an exhaled breath. “You came before he could do anything. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he brushed her gratitude off, shaking his head slightly. His peaked cap had been returned to his head and was now pulled down, shielding his eyes from her, but she couldn’t miss his prominent mustache. “I could walk you home if you want,” he offered.

“I live a block away,” she answered, a polite smile present on her face.

“Safe travels,” he nodded to her, starting to turn back towards the company building the she’d just left.

“I didn’t get your name,” she quickly called after him, the words leaving her mouth before she could think better of them. She knew he was a Shelby man, but she didn’t know which Shelby man he was.

Her voice made the man stop and turn back to face her. “Arthur Shelby,” he answered simply, lifting his head enough for her to catch a glimpse his full features as they were illuminated by the streetlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” she thanked him again, sending a grateful smile his way.

“Happy to have ya workin’ for us, love,” he said, sending a closed mouth smile her way before turning again so that he could walk back to the building she’d left a short while ago.

(Y/N) watched him enter the building before she turned and hurried the rest of her way home. She let out a sigh of relief once she was behind her locked door. What a way to meet your boss, she thought to herself, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. What a way indeed.

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

[greenunoreversecard]

hi! can i request remus lupin x reader where reader is going through a break up and remus confesses his feelings for them? hope this makes sense and totally okay if not!

A/N: ofc! I'm just gonna do male bc the gender wasn't specified. Again, don't do fem or fem aligned so sorry if that's what you was hoping for. Also not beta read.

-E/N is exes name

-S/T is stuffed toy. I was gonna do stuffed animal but the letters together... aren't a good thing.

Minor hints to internalized homophobia, but to be fair it's the 70s so what do you expect?

Reader is in Gryffindor and is the fifth person in he Marauder's dorm

Synopsis: When the girl you were dating to distract yourself from Remus breaks up with you, spewing nasty words along the way, Remus is there to show you just how wrong the both of you were.

That Daft Cunts got nothin on me, love

Remus Lupin x M! Reader

Honestly, you knew to expect E/N's breakup. You saw the signs, and you'd known it wasn't long before it ended.

Doesn't mean it hurt any less.

You'd spent a good portion of time, locked in your dorm. No ones heard much from you after the letter you got at breakfast, but with the sun high in it's arch across the sky, nearing late noon it was only a matter of time before someone came to find you.

There's a knock at the door, and a muffled voice follows it, raspy and baritone.

Remus.

"Y'alright, love? May I come in?"

"Fuck off," You sniffle out in weak retaliation, furiously swiping your eyes and sniffling.

"Do it yourself?" He quips back playfully. A big reason for the breakup, as stated in E/N's letter (not even in person, that fucking wanker. Through a damn letter) was the proximity of you and Remus.

There's not much denying it, you definitely have had the biggest crush on Remus, and E/N was rather a means of hiding the fact, but it doesn't mean you didn't care. It doesn't mean the insults she'd hurled at you hurt any less, either.

"Right then, in I go.." the door gently creaks open and you bury your face in your favorite S/T. As he sees the sight of you, he comes gently, quickly making his way to your bed on the far side of the room and you feel your bed dip next to your head. You feel as his hand gently starts to massage your scalp, lulling you to a sort of blissful calm.

"Nasty breakup with E/N I take it?"

You nod swiftly, not having removed yourself from the stuffy but having wormed yourself partially into Remus's lap.

"Aw, it's alright lovey, 've gotcha now. What's it read, then?"

"The reasoning were true, but the insults where just bloody mean" You muffled whine quietly rings out.

"Is it alright if I read it?"

As his quiet voice asks the question you've so been dreading, you sigh heavily but finally removed yourself from the toy. All you see is the soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips, and the gentle furrow of his brow as he looks down at you.

You reach across Remus to the bedside table behind him, grabbing a crumpled ball of paper and flattening it, before handing it to him.

You both sit quietly for a moment, you with your head and upper shoulders splayed across his lap, grip strong as a vice on he stuffed toy.

His small smile from seeing you has quickly turned into a angry frown at the words she spewed at you.

"This daft fuckin cunt? Who she thinks she is, saying shit like this? Bloody fuck mate- right as hell id be upset if it's at me." He say with a angry huff of breath, body rigid. Though, he quickly remembers your in his presence and softens again.

"'m sorry that twat said those things, lovey."

"it's alright, I guess. Nothing that wasn't deserved."

"You don't though. Not right of her to say that shit," he pauses for a moment, before his demeanor becomes more nervous," is it true, though? The second or third paragraph had said something about you being in love with me?"

This causes you to stiffen, before hiding your face again.

"...yeah"

"speak up, love. I can't hear you."

You hurt and remove your face.

"Yes. I dated her to forget about you. About... about being in love with a guy."

He pauses at that, his body stiffening but his hand still gently stroking your hair.

"It's not wrong, you know. Being in love with guys. I mean fuck- you know about Sirius. Does that mean he's wrong for who he loves?"

"But he's different"

"How?"

"I-" you huff. "I don't know. It just... it doesn't seem fair to you, Remus"

"How is it wrong to me?"

"Because it's putting you in a position where it'll be awkward."

At this he quirks a brow. "And how is that?"

"Because.."

"Cause how? Because I don't love you back? I assure you I do"

"I-"

You start to speak before his sentence finally hits you. Mouth forming an 'O' shaping and blinking rapidly

"Fucking- what?"

"I love you back. I feel the same towards you as you do me"

"I-..." You pause, face burning a scarlet shade as you lick your lips," Why?"

He laughs lightly as your response.

"Why wouldn't I?"

You blink owlishly at him some more, and he's looking at you mirthfully with that know-it-all smirk of his.

"Kiss me?" You say without thinking.

He laughs heartily leaning down. His lips ghost yours as he murmurs against your lips 'Who am I to deny you, my love?' and gently presses his lips against yours.

He tastes of chocolate and stale coffee. And honestly, he tastes a bit like what you think home would.

as you unwillingly pull away; he murmurs in the love charged quiet; "Promise that daft cunts got noting on me, especially with those fuckin words"

-----

A/N: Sorry if it's not great or ooc. Also, please like reblog and comment!! I love to interact with y'all!!!

[toastermoth]

Hey I was wondering if you can do a hc of the OM Characters finding out that MC used to be a singer in the human world but in reality was unsuccessful and doesn’t like mentioning about it at all but still has passion over it. It doesn’t matter about the gender and yeah. If u can Tysm! 🤗

Obey Me! x Gn! Singer!Mc

I had so much fun writing these- tysm anon for requesting!! <3 LUKE IS LIKE YOUR LITTLE BROTHER!!! P.S. You can also read this as platonic or romantic! Lucifer: 1st Born

He finds out because you were taking too long in the shower and heard your captivating voice singing.

He would be surprised and though looking unimpressed on the outside, in the inside this man is so happy if he could he'd squeal like a little girl.

When he's alone with you he'll definitely ask you to sing for him and through small pleas you agree, and when you're done he'll be smiling his signature smile and clapping softly.

"Where did you learn to sing like that y/n?" he asks awaiting your response like a dog waiting for a command.

"Well I just liked singing! I used to be a singer in the human world but it didn't work out.."

He hears your voice break when you say those last 4 words and he is devestated.

How dare nobody appreciate your beautiful voice?!

He must've been glaring because then you said "But I still have a passion for it! They never discouraged me enough to make me quit!

That reassured him as he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Y/n, never give up your passion, and if nobody supports you just know that I will personally string them up and make them appreciate your singing."

You laughed a little and Lucifer was just happy that he was able to hear your amazing gift.

Mammon: 2nd Born (Sorry his is short-)

He finds out one day when he heard you start singing a song for a playlist you're making to study.

WAIT WHAT?!

HIS HUMAN CAN SING?! WHY IS THEIR VOICE SO AMAZING?!

"WHY'D YA NEVER TELL ME?!"

You yelp in surprise and ask what he's talking about.

"YOUR SINGING OBVIOUSLY! IT'S LIKE GRIMM FOR MY EARS!"

You make a face and after much begging by the 2nd born, you decide to tell him

"Well, nobody really liked my singing in the human world.. I tried everything but no matter what I never really got listeners or fans haha.."

This poor man is wondering WHY?! HOW?!

He looks at you with his blue-yellow eyes and cups your face.

He says "Well they're stupid because you got the most amazing voice. Hell better than the angels! And they're angles for fucks sake! Look human, what I'm trying to say, is that you shouldn't listen to anyone who talks down to ya. I'll be your number 1 fan y/n! Nobody is gonna take that spot either ya hear me?"

That reassured you as he tackled you and pulled you into a hug.

"My precious human! How dare they keep this talent from me!"

He probably made a t-shirt saying "Y/N's #1 FAN"

Leviathan: 3rd Born

He found out when you started singing the opening to an anime!

Singer mc?! LEVI.EXE:SHUT_DOWN

Once you knew that he noticed your smile dropped and stopped singing and whispered a small sorry before looking down almost looking shamefully.

"Y-y/n?! Where did you learn to sing?! H-how can you-?!"

This poor boy has so many questions which you were reluclant to answer.

He gave you the cute 'anime girl' eyes (which is what he called it) and he knew you couldn't resist them.

"Mmmm fine. I used to be a singer in the human world and I gave it my all I really did but.. I never got anybody to listen.. I enjoy singing still but only for myself.."

Oh HELL NO. Levi may be shy but he can get ANGRY.

"That's impossible! Your singing is the most amazing thing my ears have ever experienced! You're just like the mc in the anime I'm-A-Secret-Singer-In-Highschool-Living-A-Normal-Life-But-Please-Send-Help!"

The long ass title of course made you snicker but he looked at you with serious eyes and said, "Henry had people who talked down to him but he never gave up! A-and neither should you y/n!!"

Satan: 4th Born

He found out by you humming a tune to singing some of the lyrics from a song in a movie that was inspired by a book that you were looking for in the library.

He couldn't help but be frozen by your hypnotic voice. You didn't notice him until he leaned on a bookshelf and something fell.

"I'm sorry Y/n. I couldn't help but listen to your singing. Where did you learn to sing like that?"

You paused a little bit while he motions you to sit in one of the library chairs.

"Can you tell me y/n?"

You sigh knowing he wouldn't forget about it and would probably ask you about it tomorrow and decide to tell the blonde haired demon.

"Well, in the human world I was a singer and I enjoyed it, loved it actually! But people didn't really like my songs or my voice or anything so I just kinda quit.. I never lost my passion for it though."

He sits looking at you in what you can tell is a mix of anger and confusion.

"Why did you give up? People are ruthless, but I think you should try again y/n. You never know and if they don't like your singing they can suck dick."

The last part of his sentence makes you laugh a bit as he smiles and looks at you saying, "I believe in you y/n. Even when you don't believe in yourself."

Asmodeus: 5th Born

He found out you could sing when he dragged you to a karaoke bar.

"C'mon sweetie! You'll do just fine besides my voice will take the main stage and you can sing backup! We got this we'll crush every demon! And don't worry I'll let you pick the song, as long as it won't ruin my beautiful voice!"

You think he only said the last part because he saw you looked a little nervous but you were still thankful.

After the karaoke session you noticed how everyone there was looking at you and not as Asmo which was weird because he's the lust demon, then you noticed he was even looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

He bowed to the crowd then dragged you back to the house of Lamination.

"Where did you learn to have such an enchanting voice darling?! That was amazing!! I need to bring you to there again, you'll be all the talk all over Devildom!-"

He stopped once he took a look and saw you looking at your knees in discomfort and silence.

"Sweetie.? Are you alright? Did I make you uncomfortable?" Despite popular belief he was actually very caring and kind and not always self-centered.

You nodded and said, "That was my first crowd in a long time.."

Confused, the pink haired demon asked "Well what do you mean sweetheart?"

So you explained it to him.

"Well, I used to be a singer in the human world but, it didn't really work out and I never really had a crowd that enjoyed my singing but maybe they didn't even enjoy it as much as I do.."

"Y/n. I know demons, and I know just by their faces that they loved our performance. Your performance! Don't be so hard on yourself, because I know that you did amazing and I'm perfect so obviously I'm right!" He said swishing his hair in an attempt to make you smile. (It did)

"There's that smile I adore! Let's get your confidence back and go to more karaoke bars okay? Next time you better sing a duet with me though!"

Beelzebub: 6th Born

How he found out was one time you were baking with Luke and Barbatos (and Beel decided to bring himself to 'taste test.') and a familiar tune came from Barbatos's voice from him humming then Luke joined in singing and eventually you joined in on the fun.

Soon the kitchen was soon made into a ballroom with you singing and dancing with Luke and Barbatos stil humming the music as Beel watches in total awe.

You're a little worn out from singing and dancing till you see the tall orange haired demon looking at you as if you were the most prized food in all of Devildom.

"Y/n your voice is amazing!"

"Ah.. you really think so Beel?"

He nods his head as Barbatos and Luke agrees.

"Well, let's just get back to this cake yeah?" The three boys wondered why you were so dismissive but Barbatos and Luke paid no attention and they continued working. Beel however did not forget about your captivating voice.

On the way back to the house of Lamination he asks, "So you don't need to answer, but why did you just shut down the idea of singing? I really like your voice and I think so does Luke and Barbatos."

"Well it's not somthing I really talk ab-" theres the Beel puppy eyes. Damn you Beel for being adorable.

"Okay.. I used to sing in the human world, and I really loved it so I tried to become a professional but nobody.. really liked my singing as much as I do.. so I kinda gave up on that profession."

This poor boy was shocked.

"But why? Just because some people don't like it doesn't mean you shouldn't. Your voice is very nice to listen to especially when singing. Even if you don't like it I do and so does Luke and Barbatos and everyone who didn't support your singing is stupid."

You smiled knowing at least somebody liked your singing at least one person.

"If you start singing let me know, I want to hear your voice again singing."

Belphegor: 7th Born

How he found out was when he called you up for a nap and said he needed a lullaby.

"Y/nnnn I need something to make me fall asleep I can't fall asleep without oneee.." Which was halfway the truth. After much begging on the behalf of Belphie, you gave in and started singing a small lullaby.

Once you were done singing and started humming Belphie sleepily commented, "Such a mystical voice.. how not famous lullaby singer..."

You laughed a tiny bit to yourself for how sleepy he is and turned to him seeing even though sleepy he was dead serious.

"How are you not famous.?" he asks.

You hesitate to meet him in the eye as he lays close by you, knowing him he'd keep himself awake until you told him or he would lay on you until you told him.

Sighing, you say, "I tried to be famous, to sing as a real singer. But people just, didn't really listen and I was unsuccessful.."

You notice a hand lay you down and the fluffy blue haired demon says, "Well they lost out on a good singer.. that means you're now my professional lullaby singer.. screw the money grabbing producers who can't tell talent."

You smile at him being this caring and start singing another lullaby to lull him to slumber as well as yourself.

"You're the greatest singer and make sure you believe that too.."

OKAY HI THAT TOOK A LONG TIME AND I SORTA GOT LAZY AT THE END- BUT TELL ME IF YOU WANT ME TO DO A PART @ WITH BARBATOS, DIAVOLO, SIMEON, AND SOLOMON!! (AND LITTLE BROTHER LUKE!!!)

[gravehags]

dance of the seven veils

Pairing: Aether x f!Reader (Ghoul Bicycle Reader)

Rating: EXPLICIT MDNI

Tags: ghoul rut, possessiveness, delirious fucking, ghoul knots, cirrus being a real one, aether beating that pussy up, biblical reference

Words: 1,972

Summary: The way you're moving your hips right now before him he'd do anything for you.

a/n: I WROTE AN ACTUAL FIC LMAO YAYYY i wasn't expecting to revisit the ghoul bicycle series in full fic form but what do you know. will probably do some of the other ghouls/ghoulettes rut/heat fics as well. because why not.

~~~

You look delicious.

Cumulus has you at the center of the living room, barefoot on the rug while he, Cirrus, and Rain watch. Your shirt is off and the bralette you wear is practically see-through. There’s a flush on your cheeks as you grin at the ghoulette before you who places her hands on your hips.

“You have to isolate your hip movements. Don’t just shake your ass, become aware of your abdominal muscles and how they shift.”

“I’m trying, ‘Lus! This is my first time belly dancing, give me a break!”

Cumulus gives you a faux-stern stare before matter-of-factly grabbing the waistline of your sweatpants and yanking them down to expose your belly. You burst out laughing and Aether’s brain is flooded with images of you in a myriad of positions, dripping and aching for him and him alone. Frustrated, he rubs at the base of his horns as his pants grow tight and Cirrus looks over at him with some concern.

“You good, Aeth?” she murmurs out of the corner of her mouth, and he’s thankful for her discretion.

“Yeah,” he whispers back, hoarse, “it’s uh…that time of the month.”

Cirrus’ eyes dart back and forth between him and you gyrating with your hands above your head, head thrown back in delight. A regular Salome. A bead of sweat slides down Aether’s temple and she nods.

“It’s only gonna get worse if you don’t do something about it, hon.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“She’s going to find out about it sooner or later. And out of all of us, you’re probably the best one to walk her through it.”

Aether scoffs and wipes his forehead.

“Don’t know about that, Cir. You have no idea the things I want to do to her right now.”

“Don’t I?” Cirrus smiles wanly, “I know what you’re like. And I also know she would go crazy for it.”

Aether grunts in response, eyes trained on the sway of your hips and the roll of your belly. Across the room, Rain says something that makes you double over laughing and he seethes with jealousy. When you straighten back up and make eye contact with him, smiling adoringly, he snaps. In an instant he’s up and striding the short distance to you and in one swift movement he bends down and slings you over his shoulder. You let out an undignified squawk as he storms from the room, the eyes of his packmates on his back.

Cirrus would explain.

He can hear you asking him questions but all he can focus on right now is getting you to your bed. When he finally reaches your room and opens the door it’s like a dam breaks within him. With a heavy thump he tosses you on the bed where you look up at him dazed and...was that arousal in your eyes?

“What the fuck was that about, Aether?”

You’re breathless, chest heaving. He must have one hell of a look on his face because you start scooting up the bed, creating some distance between the two of you. Before you can get too far though, he’s got you by both ankles and unceremoniously yanking your body back down towards him. You don’t squirm or fight to get away but instead peer at him with curiosity.

“Hey. Hey, Aeth. What’s going on?”

He squeezes his eyes shut hard enough that when he reopens them he sees stars.

“Has…has anyone else told you about ghoul ruts or heats?”

“Ruts? Heats? Like…like an animal?”

He’s definitely reading arousal in your tone now and his cock twitches in his too-tight pants.

“Yeah. Like an animal. Well my rut has started and if I’m entirely honest with you, all I want to do is stuff every hole you have with me and fuck you until it takes. You understand?”

Your jaw hangs open and your breath comes in uneven pants as you stare up at him before nodding.

“And…and all the others go through this?”

He nods as his hands slide up your calves and over your hips to reach the waistband of your pants.

“Do you want it?” The question is simple but he thinks if you say anything other than “yes” he’s going to lose his mind.

“Aether…unholy fuck yes, I want it. Come on honey, fuck me til I’m dripping.”

If his laughter in response is slightly crazed, you say nothing but grin back at him, lifting your hips so he can more easily undress you. You sit up and with a bit of finagling, manage to remove your bralette and fling it across the room. When he sees you fully nude, not for the first time but in a different light, his tail thrashes behind him and he drops to his knees.

“Thought–ah!” you gasp as he licks a stripe up the inside of your right thigh, “thought you were going to fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he smiles, lifting your thighs onto his shoulders, “but I need you nice and ready for me, angel. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Your little noise of intrigue is cut off when he spreads your cunt with his thumbs and delves his tongue inside you. Normally he would revel in this, take his time, but if he doesn’t find some relief soon he’s going to go mad. 

“Aeth!” you breathe as his nose nudges your clit, “Fuck, honey that’s it.”

Steadily his tongue fucks into you, pausing only for a moment to lap and suck at your clit. When your hand flies to the base of his horns he lets out a growl and his hips rut upwards. He pulls away with a lewd noise and replaces his tongue with two of his thick fingers.

“Look at you taking me so well already, beautiful,” Aether pants as he pistons and scissors his fingers inside your cunt, “Just wait til you see what I have in store for you.”

Your laugh is delirious as he viciously brings you to your peak, knees clenching on either side of his head and your hole spasming around his digits. 

“Fuck, Aeth, fuck,” you moan, hips bucking against his hand, “Need you. Need your cock, please.”

In an instant he pulls away and pulls his shirt off over his head. His pants follow and when your eyes land on the reddened, swollen head of his cock as it bobs heavy in front of him, you let out a needy whine. The sound makes his head spin and without a second thought he’s upon you, mouth seeking yours. You continue to make sweet little noises into his kiss, sucking the taste of yourself off his tongue, as his hips jerk against you. He wants to delight in sliding his tongue against your hardened nipples and peppering the tender flesh of your breasts in dark bruises but more than anything he needs to be inside you. With a growl he pulls himself away from you, your lips chasing his and he leans back on his haunches, hand sliding along his cock. When he takes the head and runs it through your slit he almost keels over, the feel of your hot slick enough to end him.

“Well go on, Aeth,” you grin coyly at him, head cocked, “Fuck me until it takes. Just like you said.”

There’s a snarl on his lips as he spreads you open and with one swift movement, slams inside of you. Your back arches into him and he sets a rough pace as he grabs your ankles and folds your legs up as far as your body allows him. The new angle makes you cry out, chanting his name as he fucks desperately into you. He’s always gone a little mad when he’s inside you but when it’s like this? When you so eagerly accept and want him when he’s at his most feral? It makes his head spin.

“So beautiful like this,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, “so perfect and so beautiful and all mine.”

You must enjoy the possessive nature of his words from the way your cunt clenches around him and he grins down at you with all his teeth. Your lips attempt to form words but the way he fucks the breath from your lungs makes speech almost impossible. Almost.

“Aeth!” you hoarsely cry out, “Yours. I’m yours. Make me yours.”

Your words, the way your body yields to his touch, the way you’re gazing up at him with your pupils blown drives his hips forward. He knows he has to be bruising you, will take care of you later but for now his rut is too powerful to stop. He can feel it coming, feel it building at the base of his spine and sliding through his stomach. He tries to warn you but doesn’t quite know how, not with the way you continue to squeeze around him.

“L-love,” he stutters, “gonna k-knot you. Gonna–fuck–”

In an instant he feels the base of himself swell and watches your eyes go wide before they roll back in your head. His thrusts become tight and shallow watching you stretch to accommodate him.

“Aether! Fuck!” you finally manage to cry out, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He wants to laugh and tell you he quite literally can’t but the way your walls clench and spasm around him when you cum drive him over the edge. With a roar he cums, rope after rope, inside you, filling you up as he presses your bent legs further up. His brain goes fuzzy after a while as he finally relents and allows you to relax, his body collapsing against yours. Your breath is shaky in his ear as you stroke his sweat-drenched back.

“Got you. I got you, honey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek. “You did so well.”

He must be coming back to Earth because that makes him snort.

“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

You smile.

“If you like,” you say before placing a sweet but quick kiss on his lips, “I think you might be crushing my chest cavity, though.”

“Sorry,” he groans, shifting your bodies so they could lie side by side, “The uh. Knot takes a little bit to go down.”

You make a little noise of interest as you run your fingers through his damp chest hair.

“Satan, we’re lucky to have you. How did we get so lucky?”

That makes you roll your eyes and scoff.

“You’re lucky to have me, right. As if I’m not the one with ten adoring lovers who care deeply about me and my well-being. You want to talk about luck? There’s never been anyone luckier on the planet, Aether. I would choose all of you over everything and everyone.”

His heart aches as you lean in and brush noses with him before pressing your forehead to his and holding it there. For a sweet moment the two of you are content to simply listen to one another’s breathing when Aether shifts his hips and his cock slides from you.

“Unholy fuck,” you breathe, pulling away from him and rolling back onto your back. When you spread your legs, a gush of his seed spills from you and drips on the bed sheets. The sight of your reddened cunt slick with his cum makes a growl bubble from deep in his chest and you look over to him.

“That’s fucking hot,” you murmur.

“My cum or the noise I just made?”

“Both, love, but let me recover for a moment, yeah? And then you can bring me ice packs for the next week.”

“Darling, let me have you again and I’ll bring you the head of John the Baptist.”

And he does have you again.

Three more times that evening.

No saintly head necessary, his Salome graciously deems.

[soulc-hilde]

Welcome to the Wild

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x OFC! Caden

Synopsis: No longer about her future, Caden spirals as the rug is once again pulled from underneath her feet. Living her days in a silent shell, she forces herself into her work. Noted as the restaurant's Mute Pâtissier, the stuttering eyes of her boss always finds themselves attached to her. Studying her. Like some animal in the wild.

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

“Honey, how are those buns comin’, love?” Mickey’s deep voice calls over the chaos of the kitchen.

In the far corner, blocked off from the madness was his sole baker, prepared for war and unbothered with the onslaught of orders. She pulls out the third baking tray of rolls and places them inside the rack before turning to coat a tray of recently cooled ones with honey butter. The perfect, golden rolls absorb the butter. Droplets run down its sides slowly, the bread appearing like a professional photograph.

“First three trays are finished,” she calls back, not a pause in her pace noticeable.

The Berzatto nods, a grin taking over his chiseled features as he watches her work. “Atta’ girl,” he compliments, hustling on with the service. Afterwards as the staff gathered for Family, everyone talking and laughing, Caden looks over at the man who seemed to bring ease into her life.

“Why that name?” She asks, quietly. He looks over at her, stumped at the question.

“What name you talkin’ about, Honey?” He retorts, eyebrows scrunched. She nods his way, “that one. Honey. Where’d you even get that from?”

This time he looks down at his plate, fork shuffling the food around. “Because you’re a good kid, ya know?” He tilts his head up, looking at her.

“You try to push people away, scare ‘em off, but you really just want a family. You want someone to love your sweet soul just as much as you’d love them.”

Caden scoffs, playfully, shaking her head. “The day that someone can look me in my eyes and say ‘I love you’ and mean that shit, pigs’ll start flyin’.”

She swallows a fork full of collard greens and a bit of turkey tail in the mix, eyebrows scrunching happily. Mickey looks at her, his shy gaze steeled as he stares through her. The once mute kid Tina brought to his office like a lost kitten has become the rambunctious, scatterbrained little sister he never asked for but appreciated.

He chuckles, “just be happy it’s ‘Honey’ and not ‘Squirrel.’ kiddo.”

She sends a playful glare, chubby cheeks stuffed with food. “Hey, my ADHD ain’t a joke,” she tries to scold yet her words come out jumbled and slurred.

He smiles, leaning forward, ear facing her, “what was that? I couldn’t hear you over those stuffed cheeks, Squirrel.”

“Go to Hell,” she mumbles, going back to her food, ignorant of his eyes watching her with a soft gaze.

---

No one really goes into details about the hero of the story dying and how their loved ones, their supporters, deal with it. For Caden, Michael's death wasn't that big of a shocker. No one lives forever unless you're the Devil's favorite. Mickey was the most stereotypical older brother anyone could ever meet.

The stand-in father. Believes everyone is better off without him. The one who puts up with his abusive mother's shit, not because he's an enabler but the little boy who watched it all go to shit just can't let go.

God, she missed him. Despite having her own older brothers, Caden was doomed from the start, as if neglect and trauma was all she was destined for. No friends, a negligent mother, an ill father, and avoidant brothers.

But, Michael was her brother, though.

When Tina brought her to The Beef, all the poor girl had was a backpack of clothes, her grandfather's saving, and desperation. Michael took her in, watched her bake and turn the pastries she once drew into a reality like some magician.

If only she knew how much she reminded him of Carmen.

"Those two'll bitch each other out, but they'd be one hell of a front." He'd think with that smile he'd carry as if everything was gonna be okay.

Maybe she shouldn't have answered her phone that night. She should've declined his offer, make up some lame excuse like homework.

No. Even if that was the last memory of him she had, she'd much prefer that they were together rather than apart.

---

"Cousin," Richie's microphone for a voice rings off the kitchen walls. "You may already know some of these guys, seeing as they've been here longer than me. Tina, Ebra, Angel, Manny, and finally, the soul of the team, Honey."

Caden side eyes the men, lazily looking at them for a moment before sending a nod toward the short, curly haired one. Just as quick as she turned, she resumes back to her station, sorting her spices and chocolates. Behind, Richie simply waves her off, blowing a rasberry.

"Don't mind her. The name's sweet, but, uh, she's kind of dark." He warns the younger man. Ebra leans over, "her name's Caden. If you're a smart boy, you'd call her that."

Richie scoffs, "c'mon, this is Carmy, we're talkin' about. Mikey's little brother? It works out, perfectly, the Bears and their honey."

Walking past, Caden smacks her hand against the back of head, beelining for the walk-in. The man winces, rubbing the heated spot with a grimace, glaring at her back.

Inside the walk-in, she glares at the bananas, aggressively picking them off the shared stem. Why the fuck would he say some shit like that? Makin' it sound like some damn affair happened between her and Mike.

She'll fucking kill him if he keeps going. Marching back to her corner, her blank eyes fall onto the man, or Carmy's, blue eyes. He was obviously watching, waiting for her to walk out.

He walks over as she begins chopping a peeled banana into perfectly symmetrical slices. "I'm, uh, Carmen," he practically whispers, fingers pinching at his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry... uh, about, about Richie. He's an asshole, doesn't know when he's gone too far," he continues.

She nods, lost amongst the rhythm she subconsciously follows with every cut. "Have you, uh, have you ever went to culinary school?"

Her hand comes to a stop, her attention now focusing on him. Rather than snap, she curls her plump lips inward and bites down before shaking her head.

He nods, shrugging, "i, I was just wonderin', ya know? With the way you, uh, take, take care of your station, it's, uh. It's experienced."

"OCD," she whispers.

Her eyes return to the cutting board, hands frozen in place to memorize the exact width she had cut. Finishing the first one, she grabs the second, mimicking the actions of the first time, not a step different or seconds behind.

Laying the bare fruit beside the chopped pieces of its twin, she places her hands in a starting position. Left hand gripping the fruit, index and thumb pressed gently against her cutting mark that matched exactly to the ones beside it.

Carmen watches, fascinated, as the embodiment of silence works in an ongoing loop of repetition, shutting him out from her world. Her fucked up world of madness.

"You enjoyin' the show or some'?" A voice questions him, snapping the man from his thoughts.

Turning to face the intruder, his eyebrows raise with panic as Tina glares up at him. The corner of her top lip is pinned up, teeth bared as if she was prepared to mame him.

"Uh, no, not. It's not, it's not like that," he rushes to his defense. Her eyebrows raise, expression shifting to one of aghast. "Oh, so, you don't think she's beautiful? Talented? What, you too good for this place?"

He jaw jolts, brain short-circuiting as the older woman rapidly fires assumptions his way. He knew coming through the restaurant as a nobody was a risk. He may have been Michael's baby brother, the star in his eyes, but they only knew Carmen by his words. To them, Carmen was a fantasy character. The kid that stood in front of them was just a stranger, the stranger who was also their new boss.

"Tia," the woman calls, finished slicing the bananas. She turns to glare at the two. "Do you mind? I've got a system going on, right now. Take the playground shit somewhere else, yeah?"

Unlike the staff built up of Chicago natives and ethnic backgrounds - Latino and Italian being the majority, she didn't yell. Regardless of how far she stood from anyone, she never even raised her voice in a way to project her words. She just talked, casually, and if you heard her than you heard her.

If you didn't? Well, tough shit cause she won't repeat herself.

Her voice was mellow and naturally rested at a low octave. Her accent nowhere near the Chicago accent, it was more of a general midwest/southern accent. Her words relied heavily on the southern part of her dialect. It was as if she was a puzzle that just kept scrambling, creating greater confusion than understanding.

"Yeah, system, mija," Tina nods, a condescending smile taking over. "Don't fuck," she points at Carmen, finger just inches from his face. "with the system. Cocotazo."

She walks off, leaving the younger chefs to themselves.

---

In the beginning, he believed that Tina was fucking with him. "The system" was a fucking mess. It was about as sloppy and greasy as the restaurant itself. As the thoroughly trained professional he is, Carmen decided that things were to take a change for the better. The first being to go?

Every fucking red flag that dressed the staff like some high-end jacket. And God, did they fucking complain. Turn into children with their stomps, glares, and petty insults aimed at him no matter what he did.

Just simply asking for the chefs to keep up with proper hygiene outside of the typical washing hands with soap for 20 seconds resulted in a 'fuck you' and 'don't fuck with the system.'

Well, fuck me for not wantin' to deal with sick customers, he scoffed at the thought. A breath-filled chuckle releases beside him. Quickly, he looks over to meet eyes with Caden. She leant her right shoulder against the doorway of the office, face seemingly blank but her eyes hummed with warmth.

"I wouldn't wanna deal with these bitches on a regular, much less because they got sick from us," she states, referencing to the statement that rang through his mind.

He straightens, "oh, oh? Di-Did I say that out loud?" She nods, "yeah, you did." She steps further into the office, closing the door behind her. "But that's not what I'm here to talk to you about. Well, actually, it has some connection."

"Okay, uh, here," he stands, leaning over to push out another small metal foldable chair. "Take a, uh, seat. Take a seat." She nods, settling down beside him. "So, what did you wanna talk about?"

Please, don't say you're quitting. Please, don't say you're quitting, his conscience pleas.

"Staff," she starts off. "I love those assholes, but even when Mikey was here and runnin' the show, it was fuckin' chaos. They think they're functioning well because Mikey never corrected them, but we both know they're not."

His eyebrows raise with surprise. "Oh?" he whispers, sitting back in the wheeled chair, fingers pulling at his lips.

"Mh," she nods. "And don't even get me started on the bakery. Before Mikey died, we were workin' togetha' on how to make the bakery faster. Which meant better equipment and shit," she snorts.

"We don't have the money, though. Which leads me to the next suggestion," she leans forward. "We're gonna have to start hirin' some help."

Taglist: @spiderstyles04 @lostinwonderland314

[stylesparker]

second chance (at love)

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: season 2 era, character death, a lot of dialogue (sorry), horribly written fight scenes, overused tropes (but I don't care), and of course the usual mixture of fluff and angst

A/N: I finally got around to finishing this request, and I'm so sorry I took absolutely forever with this. I hope you like the way this turned out! I had so much fun writing it. Reblog if you like as always :)

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

Those words cycle through his head over and over again, plaguing him as he stares at you; unmoving, lifeless. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the knife impale your stomach, the blood that seeps through the fabric of your shirt, and worst of all, the life draining out of your eyes as you clutch onto him in your last moments.

You've been dead for seven minutes.

"Well isn't this something."

Sam snaps his head to the woman that appears out of thin air. Her hair is dark red, long and silky, and she's dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket. Her smile is sickeningly sweet.

"Poor Winchester, lost the girl, huh?"

"Who the hell are you?" Sam's voice comes out gruff and harsh, his glare menacing even to the demon. Her smirk gets wider when Sam grips you tighter and pulls you closer to his chest.

"Does it matter? I'm here to help." She blinks, letting her eyes turn to their natural state, that dreadful black signifying her as one thing.

Sam scoffs, "Right, 'cause all you have are good intentions."

She shrugs, "I'm here to make a deal. You gonna take it or not?"

Sam knew this wasn't right. He knew he promised you if anything happened, he'd live the life you thought he deserved. But, you didn't know what it was like to have to watch the person you love die, and know that person wasn't coming back. He stares, and stares, until finally he agrees.

"What do I have to do?"

DAY 1

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Sam asks you for the tenth time, watching you pull on your boots with a wince. He stands in front of you from where you're seated on the motel bed.

"Sam, I am fine, you don't need to hover over me like I'm some wounded animal that's gonna collapse out of nowhere!"

"Well you are kind of a wounded animal at the moment-"

"Sam."

He sighs, "I'm just making sure. Can you blame me?"

You release a sigh of your own, standing up from your spot (not without Sam extending his arm to help), and rest your hands on his shoulders. "I know, I'm sorry. But really, I'm fine. It was a close one, but I'm still here aren't I?"

Sam looks at you gravely, eyes gliding over your features like he's taking you in. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something, but closes it quickly. After a moment, he nods, and gives you a soft smile. "Yeah," he swiftly lands a gentle kiss on your forehead and takes your bag before you can grab it yourself, "I'll take our stuff out to the car, meet me out there when you're ready."

You sway on your feet, looking at Sam weirdly as he makes his way out the door. You wonder why he took so long to answer you, but you push the thought away when you realize that you almost died, so of course Sam's gonna have a hard time dealing with it.

You follow him outside with a new pep in your step, determined to make Sam feel better. As soon as he shuts the trunk, you settle into the car together, and you wait for Sam to pull out and drive off. Instead, he pulls out one of Dean's CD's and pops it in, while you look at him curiously, intrigued to find out what he chose.

Once the music starts, you smile and stare at him incredulously. "Really? Since when have you wanted to listen to Metallica?"

He shrugs with a small smile, "I don't know, just in the mood."

You laugh, "Who are you, and what have you done with Sam?"

"Shut up," He rolls his eyes but that small smirk remains on his lips. "Can't you let me be nice?"

"Dean, is that you?"

"Stop it!" He playfully slaps your arm just before he puts the car in reverse and takes off down the road. Listening to your laugh again is music to his ears, and he can't help looking at you as you bob your head to the music, not paying attention to him whatsoever.

He doesn't know how he's going to pull off this deal, but he's going to do everything in his power to bring you back.

Even if you hate him after.

DAY 2

"How do you have no rooms available? There are like no cars outside!" You angrily shout at the teenager who's working the front desk at some shitty motel you and Sam found off the road. The kid shrugs, which angers you even more, so you huff and slam the door on your way out, stomping up to the Impala with a confused looking Sam watching you.

As soon as you swing the door open he asks you, "What's wrong?"

"There's a damn kid in there telling me there are no rooms left! I swear to god, and he barely even looked at me!" You plop down on the seat, rubbing your eyes a tad harsher than Sam thinks you should, and look at him sadly. "I was really hoping we didn't have to sleep in the car tonight."

He rubs your arm in hopes of cheering you up, and says quietly, "Well, at least it's not cold out like the last time we had to sleep in the car?"

You shiver at the thought, "Oh my god, my toes were actually blue the next morning."

He smiles, "Exactly, so let's find a spot and rest for the night, yeah?"

You nod, but you still pout sadly in your seat as he drives. "I should be making you feel better, you haven't had a wink of sleep since like, what was it? Tuesday?"

"I think Monday."

"Sam, it's Thursday! You didn't sleep Tuesday morning?"

"No." He shrugs like it doesn't matter.

"What were you doing while I was sleeping then?"

"Watching over you."

You didn't know what to say after that. You don't know how you'd forgotten, but Sam clearly hadn't. Now you feel bad.

"Oh." You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize. I just, I don't know, wanted to make sure you would be okay."

His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can't help but lean over and grab his hand. His eyes dart to the sudden touch on his hand, and he glances over to you. You're looking at him so fondly, and he wishes he could just tell you. Get it over with.

But he can't.

So he lets you hold his hand in silence.

He drives for another 15 minutes until he finds a trailer park with almost no trailers, so he figures this will be a good enough spot for the night. He doubts anyone will show up here at least until the morning, so he takes the risk. He's so tired he doesn't even really care.

Sam opens the door on the driver's side to get out, walking to the trunk to grab the few blankets that you guys have, and comes back with one.

"What, no blanket for me?" You joke.

He throws it to you with a blank stare, almost like he's saying really?

"That is for you, jerk."

"Where's yours?"

"That's the only one we have."

Your mouth drops with surprise, "What? I could've sworn we at least had two?"

"We must have left the other one with Dean." He shrugs. "It's fine, I'm not that cold."

"Sam-"

His eyes pin you down with a hard stare, interrupting what you were about to say, so you give up, but not without a mumbled, "fine, jeez."

While you curl up against the door on your side with half of your blanket under your head, and the other half over your body, you look at Sam out of the corner of your eye with sympathy. He's a lanky guy, maybe not so thin since he's got the muscle, but the dude has long ass legs. The upper half of his body is leaning against the car door like yours, but his legs are uncomfortably folded so he doesn't get into your space. You hear him huff and shuffle around, which makes you wince and feel even worse than you did. You're not even close to comfortable so you can imagine how he feels.

For almost half an hour, you both listen to the other shift around without saying anything, and it gets to the point Sam can't handle it anymore. Until he gets an idea.

"Y/N?" He doesn't have to ask if you're awake because you're both well aware neither of you have slept.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

You peek your eyes open, and his arms are still crossed, but he shifts so his front is facing you.

"Would you wanna... lay together?"

He looks nervous, so you joke with him to hopefully ease him. "What, you too cramped over there?"

He scoffs, "A bit, yeah."

You giggle, sitting up and scooching closer to him, "Okay. Stretch your legs."

He extends his legs out across the seat, and opens his arms to invite you in. Now you're the nervous one as you shift even closer and lay your head on his chest, laying on top of him almost completely flat. You don't want to admit how much more comfortable this is. You fix the blanket so it's over the both of you, and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you more lightly than you thought he would. Or maybe hoped.

"Better?" You asked.

He nods, his chin lightly grazing your head, "Much."

Your back is to his chest with his arms resting over your stomach, and you're glad he can't really see your face because you can only imagine how bad you're blushing right now. You shift in his hold again, which has him looking down at you and squeezing your hip.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Mmhm." You nod quickly. You really want to turn over, but... that's weird right? That would be too close? This already seems intimate enough, and he can probably tell how awkward you're already being. You hope he doesn't think it's because you like him- no, because you cannot like Sam. Your best friend of nine years is off limits. You've been in the same bed before, you've even cuddled before, but you were kids then. It's different when you're 23 right? You haven't really thought about Sam like that before, but, you guess it's bound to happen because, well, Sam is Sam. You know it shouldn't be weird, not at all, but you're both adults who know about certain adult things that take place when adults are alone and comfortable with each other and-

"Y/N?"

Shit. "Yeah?" You try not to sound squeaky.

"What's up?"

"Um," you steady yourself, "can I turn over? I just- I feel a little awkward staring at the ceiling."

He laughs a little, "Yeah, of course. Is that what you were thinking about?"

"...Yeah?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" You can almost hear his smile.

"It's not." You assure.

He lifts his arms so you can turn over, and you do with a little bit of struggle, trying not to elbow him too much, but he gets hit with no complaint. Once your cheek is pressed to his chest you breathe a sigh of relief, and try not to think about how he stiffened then relaxed when you wrapped your arms around his abdomen.

"Better?" He asks.

"Much." You copy him from earlier, and his chest shakes with his laughter. You don't speak after that, but you relish the moment with him, despite feeling unnecessarily guilty for it. After a while, you fall asleep, and Sam does too.

He hopes you were thinking about him, and you wish that you weren't. He wishes you would say you love him, but you hope that he never finds out.

DAY 3

The next morning wasn't weird like you thought it would be. It was almost like you had done this a million times before. But, you had a case today, so there was no time to think about Sam. Only your job.

You spent most of the day driving around the town trying to find answers to three consecutive murders. All women, and an obvious lead to werewolves. You never really thought about how well you worked with Sam until now; all day you bounced ideas off of each other, gaining clues and offering suggestions like it was easy. It was, you guess, when your partner is so damn likable. Once you found the location, you and Sam were quick to head out the door and track down those werewolves.

They were about 20 minutes out from where you guys had been located, and when you spotted them in the cabin shortly off the road in the woods, you both agreed this would be a stealth mission.

Sam shut off the car and quietly shut the door shortly after you, and you both go to the back to grab your weapons and whatever else you'd need. He points to himself and then the cabin, and you roll your eyes at the man, allowing him to go first and lead you there. His long legs are hard to keep up with but you make do as quietly as you can, and every so often he'll stop and put a hand out to stop you. It tends to hover over your stomach so you have to try harder not to be too loud when you breathe.

A loud bang and shouts erupt from the cabin, interrupting the silence that filled the air, and you both take off in that direction. Sam kicks the door in, allowing you to take notice of the girl tied to a chair in the middle of the room, and two men facing off against each other; one on the floor and the other hovering over him. You and Sam don't even look at each other, as soon as the two of you make eye contact with the two of them, it's on. Sam goes for the one standing, immediately charging at him and toppling the both of them over while you go for the one on the ground. He's up quicker than you would have wished but you still throw your knife in time to where his shirt gets pinned to the floor.

While he's distracted trying to pull it out, you land on top of him and stab your extra through his chest, twisting it until he's too weak to throw you off of him. You don't hear anything behind you, so you let off of him a second too soon, and while you're looking for Sam the werewolf grabs the knife and slices your shoulder with it. You scream in pain, and get torn off of him from the other one. You hit the ground next to him hard on your bad shoulder, and you kick his leg out from under him, sending him to the floor.

Sam appears behind him with a nasty looking cut on his forehead, and his shirt torn to pieces, but he's able to kill him before he gets to you. The other one grabs Sam's leg, knocking him to the floor, allowing him to get the upper hand and attack him. Before he lands the final blow, you grab the shotgun and shoot him in the head, and watch as Sam topples over shoving him off. As much as you want to worry about him, you run to the girl first.

She's sobbing as you cut off the rope that was tying her hands and feet to the chair, and you let her fall into your embrace as she uses you for comfort, rubbing her back and whispering reassurances that you hope is making her feel better. You feel Sam's hand grab your shoulder and you look up at him, finding a troublesome look on his face.

"There's more out front. Get her out of here, I'll distract them."

"What? Sam, you're coming with us!"

"There's at least three of them on their way in here-" He starts.

"And you'll shoot them! Grab the gun and let's go!" You shout angrily, which has him furrowing his brows at you but he grabs the gun anyway and covers you as you carry the girl. You only make it halfway to the car before the other werewolves have found you, and Sam's only able to take out one of them before one is on him. The gun gets knocked out of his hand, and this is when you realize you'd left the other one in the cabin.

"Shit." You mutter.

"No, no, no, no-" the girl starts crying and freaking out again and you shush her, stupidly running in the opposite direction to try and outrun the werewolf. Again, stupidly. You're not as fast as a werewolf, especially with a girl who's about the same size as you in your arms, so he's able to catch up to you no problem.

He throws you both to the ground before he's pinning both of your hands in his tight grip and holding his body weight above you, forcing your hands together to hold them in one hand, and using the other to choke you. You hear the girl crying and you're pretty sure she's running away from the sounds of the leaves and dirt crunching beneath her feet.

You struggle to kick him off of you, he's much bigger than you are, so you hopelessly kick and scream as much as you can, only hoping Sam gets to you in time.

Just as you think he won't make it and you're losing consciousness, his hands leave your neck and suddenly you're gasping for air. You can sort of make out Sam and the werewolf fighting, but your vision is blurry so you can't tell who's on top of the other. Your breathing is harsh and you can hardly see, so when hands grab your shoulders and tug you upwards, you scream and swat at him, not realizing that it's Sam.

"Hey, hey! It's me, it's Sam!" He rubs the dirt off your face with one hand holding the part between your good shoulder and your neck so you don't fall over as you cough yourself into a fit.

"Sam," you rasp, and grab onto his arms tightly as you finally start to catch your breath again. You don't mean for the tears to fall out of your eyes, but you did almost get choked to death and your neck and shoulder hurt like a bitch, so it was bound to happen.

"W-Where's the girl?" Your voice comes out scratchy, but Sam just holds you and looks around while you lean against him.

"I saw her run for it, I don't know where though. It looked like she went towards the road, but it's too dark out for us to go after her like this. Let's just hope someone nice picked her up."

You nod, coughing into his shoulder, and his large hand rubs your back as you start to breathe normally again.

"Are you okay? I thought you-"

"I'm good," he reassures, "let's focus on getting you out of here."

Your shoulder is pretty bad, but his head is smeared with dirt and blood, and the cut on his forehead looks even bigger than when you first saw it.

"But," you cough, "Your head-"

"I'm the one who can stand on their own two feet at the moment, so would you just let me help you up?" You roll your eyes, but you let him carry you to the car anyway.

DAY 4

It's way past midnight, and you're pretty sure you and Sam scared the living daylights out of the front desk girl at the motel you found. The Impala wasn't stacked with any first-aid, so you had to go in looking like you were both mauled and run over by a truck fifty times. You paid, she gave you the key, and she was immediately running to the back, whether that was to call the police or hide you weren't sure.

You and Sam clung onto each other and helped each other up the stairs to the next floor, hobbling to your door like a couple of sick children.

You could tell Sam probably had a concussion, he's starting to look even worse for wear than he was. But he still insists on cleaning you up first.

You try not to whimper too loud when he lifts you onto the bathroom counter, but he shushes you gently when you let out silent scream and you grip his bicep incredibly tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispers.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay. I'm fine." Your reassurance falls on deaf ears. His grip tightens, but he doesn't look all there anymore.

"It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

Suddenly, he's back on that road again, holding you in his arms. He remembers how cold you were, how lifeless. He feels weird because, he can see you right there in front of him, but somehow, his brain is telling him you're gone. You're not here anymore. His plan failed and he never got to tell you-

"Sam!"

His eyes refocus and he feels your hands on his cheeks. They're warm, and they're soft, nothing like how they were then. They rub his face gently, but the look on your face is one of concern, and mainly fear. He didn't realize how hard he was holding onto you, letting go as soon as he comes back from whatever that was.

"Sammy, where'd you go?"

He's not entirely sure, but he knows he can't tell you, or it could potentially break the deal. "Huh?"

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gazing at you like he didn't just stare into your soul with the most fearful tear filled look you'd ever seen.

"Sam, what happened?" You ask seriously, "I lost you for a second there."

He shakes his head. "No you didn't, I'm good." He breaks eye contact and grabs the alcohol, pouring it onto the cloth and gripping your shoulder.

"On three?"

You sigh, and take a deep breath. "Yeah."

"1-"

"2-"

"HOLY FUCK-" You practically double over and almost fall off the counter. You would have if Sam hadn't wrapped his other arm around you and kept you still while he cleaned the blood off and disinfected your wound.

"Sh, sh, sh, you're good, you're good. You got it, yeah? Breathe with me."

You grit your teeth as you try your best to follow along. "Fucking- shit, I hate you so bad right now."

"You'll get over it."

Once he's done cleaning it, he's able to wrap it and get it fixed up in no time. It still hurts, but, you've let him baby you enough.

"Alright, Winchester, your turn."

"You can't even lift your arm-"

With your good hand, you lift your other arm and use it to smack him across the shoulder.

He scoffs, "That's cheating."

"I still have one good arm left, so watch your mouth."

He rolls his eyes, but he relaxes when your soft touch spreads over the skin on his forehead. He watches you as you clean and bandage the wound just like he did, but now your faces are close, and he remembers he's standing in between your legs.

"Stop staring at me." You mumble, concentrating on stitching the last part on his cut, but also on the way he's staring you down.

"I'm not." He shakes his head, but you pinch him for moving, so he mutters out a sorry, and stands still again. A couple minutes later, you tap him on the shoulder, stating that you're all finished, and he gets this look on his face when he moves away from you.

"Can you uh- help me out?" You laugh, embarrassed a little bit for asking him to help you off the counter, but he does it without even thinking. His hands slide under your underarms again, lifting you just a little to where you can slide your butt off the counter. "Thanks."

"No problem." He nods his head, sending you his boyish smile, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest a bit. Did this guy really just stand between your legs and patch you up?

You both get into your separate beds, and lay down on your fresh clean pillows. a nice contrast to the doors of the Impala. But, as much as you like the bed, you almost wish Sam would invite you into his. It's much more silent than you wish it was, but Sam must have felt the same way because his voice cuts through the silence.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You look over, "Yeah?"

"Try not to get yourself killed too much, yeah? I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smile softly, "The same goes for you, Winchester."

He thinks that's the closest thing to a confession that he can get.

DAY 6

He wishes you would've stayed in bed longer.

"How is it that I've almost died like three times in the same week?" You ask him, hands holding your face up on your knees while the two of you sit on the curb on the side of the road.

The Impala is crushed.

Dean can most definitely fix it. But not until he's murdered the both of you and buried you in Bobby's backyard.

"How about we not mention that?" Sam suggests, peering over at you while you stare directly ahead at the car.

"Why not? I mean, we almost die everyday doing what we do, but like, this week- man, this week has been horrible." This sounds like the start of a ramble, and he's right. "I've come like an inch from death so many times this week I'm surprised it didn't actually happen. Like, right there, ten minutes ago, I swear I thought it was over. One minute, I'm singing along with you and the next Baby's upside down in the middle of nowhere." You shrug, and after a minute, you start to laugh to yourself.

"I feel like this is some sort of sign from the universe or something, so- so I'm just gonna say it." You push yourself to your feet and turn around, facing him, while he's still sitting on the curb looking up at you curiously.

"Say what?" He asks cautiously.

"Dude, I love you." You breathe out all in one breath. "I love you, Sam. You're my best friend, and I don't think I tell you that nearly enough, but you are. And so is Dean, but Dean's different, he's not- he's not you Sam. He's my best friend too, but you're..." he wants to laugh at the way you're staring at the sky and shaking your hands trying to come up with what you're trying to say, but he's so gobsmacked right now he can't really do anything else but stare in wonder. "You're Sam. You sleep with me in the car even though I can tell you get nervous, and even though I'm always nervous too you make it go away. You still stick by me even when I'm stupid and you carry me away from all the bad guys that try to kill us," you laugh," and you stitch me up and bandage all my wounds when I'm hurt even when I don't want you to because I know you love me and you show me better, and I wish I could do the same, so this is me showing you."

He stands from where he was sitting, but he can't really move anything else. He wants to move towards you, though something is holding him back. His chest starts to fill with dread, and suddenly, the deal is starting to glare at him straight in the face.

"Please don't let it be weird now, you don't have to say anything, just- let's sit with this and figure out how to get home, yeah?"

"Well, Winchester, things turned out for you, didn't they?"

Your body turns to look at the woman behind you, and Sam merely looks over your shoulder to see the demon he was hoping not to see.

Your face contorts, "Who the hell are you?"

Her face brightens, and her smirk gets wider as she glances between you and Sam.

"Aren't you two just perfect for each other?" She claps her hands together. "I'm so glad you've come to your senses, hun. Now, I can finally be on my merry way."

"No," you stop her, "How do you know us?" Your body twists again to face Sam, and all of a sudden, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Just by looking at his face you know something is wrong. "Sam?"

"I'll explain everything-"

"Go easy on him, sweetheart. What he did saved your life." She winks, and her signature red hair swishes when she disappears, just like that, just as she'd appeared.

"Sam..." you start, your voice dangerously low, "Who the hell was that."

He clenches his fists, taking a step closer to you, "Y/N, look-"

"Just tell me straight out, Sam! What was she talking about?" You practically shout at him, you're so anxious, you don't know what to do, what to expect. But what you possibly expected was nothing like what he said.

"You died. She was the reason why I got you back."

Your eyes hold a heaviness to them that only great sadness could bring, and he wishes he could take away that burden but he can't. He gave it to you.

"What?" You whisper. You say anything any louder and you think you might snap.

"She made a deal: I have seven days to-to..." he sighs, closing his eyes and prepares himself for what he's going to say next, "to get you to tell me you love me. Otherwise, you would stay dead. Permanently."

You don't say anything for a minute or two, and he doesn't expect you to, but he wishes you would have more of a reaction than what you're having now. There's this blank stare on your face, but it's sunken and it looks like he's given you burden upon burden to carry. Maybe he has.

"So basically," you start, clearing your throat, "You made a fucking bet, with a demon, you could get me to fall in love with you in seven days?" You scoff, "Otherwise, I'd be dead for good."

"No, that's not-"

"That's what it sounds like to me, Sam!" You scream.

His face falls, "I saved you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, else mattered, okay? I didn't care what kind of bet- no, I meant deal, I meant deal, it was, okay." He shakes his head. "Obviously I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't lose you, alright? I had the opportunity and I took it."

Your heart burns, it feels like you need to claw it out and throw some water on it, but all you can do is let it fester and grow and heat up every single nerve ending in your body. You want to be fine with it, he saved you, but, this isn't how it's supposed to be.

"I can't do this right now." You mutter, closing your eyes.

"What?" He steps forward, and you take three steps back.

"I have to go."

DAY 7

"You picked her up, right? She's with you?"

"Yes, Sam, she's with me. And you better be with Baby, you hear me?"

Sam rolls his eyes, and looks to the car that's being worked on in the shop.

"And don't let them touch her. I'll do the work myself when we get her back to Bobby's."

Sam grimaces, "It's a little late for that, buddy."

"Sam!-"

"Look, drop her off, okay. When you come here, I'll take the car back and you stay here, got it?"

"You're so lucky I saw Y/N first, or I would've whooped your ass-"

"Yeah, I got it, see you soon."

He hangs up the call and slaps it closed, the sound echoing into the air as he puts it back into his pocket. He looks around, but it's just empty road, and the car shop.

So he'll just have to wait.

...

"Dean?" Your voice calls out through the house loud and clear, and it makes him sad to think you may not be so happy seeing that it's him.

"It's me."

Your figure appears in the doorway of the kitchen, opposite of him.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey."

You're both quiet for a moment, not really knowing what to say, or even how to start, but Sam can only think of one thing.

"You can be mad at me, I deserve it. But just know I did it because I love you. Even though you made me promise to all that moving on shit, I couldn't do it." He pauses. "I know you love me too, but if you need time I understand that."

"Sam," your voice breaks, "I understand why you did it, but why did you have to lie?"

His chest sucked in, "She-she made it a part of the deal, that you couldn't know. If you knew or found out it would've been off."

Your shoulders droop and you step toward him, just one step.

"I just- I just can't believe that I died, Sam."

"I know." He nods, "I know. If you... have any more questions, I'm here to answer them."

You shake your head, but don't say anything else. Neither of you really have to, everything's been said. It's up to you where this goes from here.

You take two steps closer, closing most of the gap between you, and lean into him. His right hand drops the bag he was holding and wraps his arms around you, holding you close just as he did several days ago. You don't hug, or squeeze, but you're there, and that's what matters.

"I love you," you breathe, "but you're such an idiot."

He shakes a little bit with laughter, "I know."

"But, if I'm being honest," you look up at him, "I probably would have done the same thing too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nothing else has to be said. But he can't help but lean his face closer to yours, waiting, hoping that this wasn't something he was imagining. Your eyes bore into his, and you're the one who closes the space between you. Once the gap is filled there's no breaking it apart, and neither of you plan to.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 2

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Word Count: 4,284

Warnings: Fluffy Sy, Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 1

I brought Mills with me to work and set him up in the shade while I completed the outdoor shed build. After the first few hours at home last night, he fully relaxed and I saw his personality come out which made me proud. He followed me all over the house this morning and since he hadn’t had any accidents inside I figured I wouldn’t push my luck and brought him with me. I also didn’t want him bothering Aika since she’s elderly and probably wants to sleep all day without being bothered. Mills really seemed to enjoy the car ride, especially when I rolled the window down half way for him to stick his head out.

I could barely concentrate on a damn thing at work all day, my thoughts radiating pure excitement about what was to come. Hopefully we both would be coming tonight, but if not I’m happy to take things as slow as she wants. I find myself wondering all about her and genuinely can’t wait to get to know her better. I’m shocked as hell she even agreed to come to my place tonight after meeting me all sweaty and nasty from work. The hours literally crawled and I was gonna punch Alex if he made one more comment about how “giddy” I looked. I pride myself on being able to stay stone faced as a military captain but Alex has known me our whole lives so he can read me a little better than most. I had let the steaks marinate in the fridge all day and was planning on cutting out at about 4:30 so I could grab her some flowers, get home and clean myself up before I started cooking. One of the best things about spending summers with my grandparents as a kid was that Nana taught me the basics of cooking. I would spend all day out on the ranch with PawPaw, and then he’d send me inside to help Nana shuck corn, snap peas, or whatever else she needed me to do. As a kid, I was more than happy to get a break from mucking horse stalls or repairing fences after being out in the heat all day, so I enjoyed coming back to the house and listening to the radio with Nana. I couldn’t cook anything super fancy but felt confident enough in creating a handful of meals so I could keep myself fed without constantly relying on takeout.

The doorbell rang as I was taking the dinner rolls out of the oven and Mills jumped up and ran to my feet after Aika grunted with disdain at the interruption of her nap. I knew it would take a bit before Mills got used to loud noises and new people. I took a deep breath and adjusted his new red collar with a bow tie included around his neck and headed to open the door. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the beauty in front of me. Emma was standing at the door wearing sandals and a stunning light blue sundress that matched her eyes while holding a cake tray and a pitcher of homemade sweet tea. Her long silky hair was in loose curls that cascaded around her breasts and her bright smile had my heart pounding in my chest. I let out a soft whistle through my teeth as I widened the door.

“Hey Sy.” She uttered with a nervous tremble.

“Damn darlin’, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She said with a blush tint to her cheeks.

“Let me take those for you.” I reached for the items in her hand.

“Thank you. I made some sweet tea and thought you might like some and a pound cake for dessert.”

“Two of my favorite things. Three if you count yourself.” I said with a smirk and she playfully rolled her eyes as she followed me inside and shut the door for me.

“Your house is absolutely beautiful, Austin.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Look at you, handsome! Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” She said in her baby voice while crouching to Mills who was dancing around her feet much to my surprise. I figured he’d still be weary but he must have he remembered her. Or he just knew that she was a good person. Mama always said to trust a dog’s instinct about people.

“Why thank you.” I said jokingly as I walked into the kitchen from the foyer.

“I was talking to this handsome fella, but you look cute too.” She followed me and smirked as she eyed me up and down in my tight “nice” grey t-shirt and jeans.

“Nothing compares to you, sweetheart.”

“You are so corny.” She says with a giggle and I can’t help but laugh too.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, it’s endearing.” She responds. “He looks like he feels much better and his bandages are fresh. Good job. Oh, this must be Aika.” She says while holding her hand out for Aika to sniff who slowly makes her way over to her. Since being out of the military and with her old age she feels comfortable and safe in our house and very rarely growls like she used to with new people. I think she feeds off of me and knows that if I’m not anxious, she can relax. Aika shoves her head into Emma’s hand who quickly begins to scratch her neck and ears while cooing at her. Aika immediately drops and rolls over for belly rubs and I’m genuinely shocked. She only acts like this with me and my grandparents. She has never shown her belly to a stranger before.

“Well I’ll be damned.” I mutter and Emma looks at me inquisitively while perched on her knees scratching all over Aika’s belly.

“She’s a former unofficial military dog. I found her in Afghanistan and trained her while I was stationed there. She has never shown her belly for scratches to anyone other than me and my grandparents.” I explain. She smiles brightly.

“Such a good girl! I’m honored. Maybe others just don’t have the right nails for good scratches.” She says while playfully showing me her manicured hands. Think about those little hands around your cock. Damn my intrusive thoughts.

“Don’t go stealing my dog with belly scratches now. I might have to start requesting belly scratches of my own if you keep that up. She’s drooling on the floor.” I chuckle as I point to Aika who seems to be on cloud nine as her tail wags slowly and her leg begins to kick from the pleasurable sensation.

“We’ll see about your own belly scratches if you’re a good boy.” She whispers and I feel the blood shoot right to my cock. FUCK. I’ve gotta think of something else.

“I know traditionally I’m supposed to show up at your doorstep with flowers, and I couldn’t really do that with dinner at my place but I got you some anyway.” I said as I handed her the sunflowers in a thin vase.

“They’re stunning. One of my favorite flowers! Thank you.” She quickly pressed a kiss to my cheek and I swear I felt like a nervous kid again.

“What are your favorites?” I ask so I’ll know for next time.

“Well, peonies are my favorite but they can be hard to find. Hydrangeas and sunflowers are my other favorites.” Hmm. I’ll need to look for a place that sells peonies.

 “So, what’s for supper?” Y/N asks and pulls me from my thoughts.

“Salad, steak, potato wedges, green beans and a roll.” I point to each dish while scratching my neck a bit nervously. God, I hope she likes it.

            “Mmmmm. That sounds delicious. Anything I can do to help?” The sound of her moan is burned into my brain for me to replay later.

            “Why don’t you pour us some of that tea you brought while I plate the food.” I suggest and watch her turn and get started.

            “How was work today?” I ask as I set her plate down in front of her.

            “It was pretty good! Slower than yesterday. Someone brought in a cat that they had found hit on the side of the road and unfortunately it had already passed away which sucks. I tried everything but he was just too far gone.”

“Damn, I hate that. Didja find the owner?”

“No. It looked like a stray. No microchip or collar and wasn’t neutered. I just will never understand why people don’t get their animals fixed.”

“Neither will I. I hate to say it Mills, but enjoy your nuts while they last because as soon as your cleared for surgery we are getting those snipped. No baby mama drama for you. Sorry pal.” I say with a chuckle while looking at my new buddy with a nervous grin.

Emma giggles brightly at the face I made at him. “So, how was your day? I don’t think I even asked what you do for work.”

            “I own my business, Syverson Contracting. That’s why I was so sweaty and gross when I brought Mills in yesterday. We’ve been working on remodeling a house and I was building a garden shed for the owners when I found him. I finished it up today but we’ve got a little more work to do inside the house.”

            “Wow! I saw the sign for your company but didn’t put two and two together. That’s incredible. I can’t imagine how cranky I would be if I was out in this heat all day every day.”

            “Eh, I’m used to it. This has nothing on the desert, although the humidity is a bitch. I don’t mind it too much. I like building things and working with my hands. Plus, the projects change enough that I don’t get bored which is nice.”

            “I’m sure it’s rewarding to take something old and broken and essentially make it new.”

            “Definitely. That’s the best part. I uh, I started here with this house. When I left the military, I loved the land but the house was falling apart. Figured I had nothing better to do so I’d do it myself and learn as I go. The plumbing was all busted and the roof had a ton of leaks. I essentially ripped it down to studs and rebuilt it.”

            “Wait, I didn’t realize that! So, when I said it was stunning, it’s all because of you.” I smile at her astonishment.

            “You flatter me. I appreciate it. Rebuildin' this house is what made me decide to start my company. I have zero interior design skills though so I know I need to change furniture and maybe get some art or something on the walls but I’m honestly clueless about all of that. Need me to build a bathroom or repair drywall, I’m your man though.” I chuckled.

“Well, I thought about doing interior design for a bit in college, but ultimately the animals won my heart. If you ever want help, I’d be happy to try.” Damn, she’s perfect.

“Darlin, you’re going to make me fall in love with you if you keep talking like that.” I wink at her.

“So corny.” She shakes her head and giggles and I just can’t help but laugh with her. I could listen to that sound over and over again.

We continue to talk throughout the meal where she asks me how I learned to cook and I explain all about my grandparents who own the farm near the country store off of county road 55. She tells me all about Alabama, how she went to the university on a cheerleading scholarship and I have to keep myself in check before my mind starts wondering if she’s still flexible. We talk just a bit about the military, finding Aika, and I can’t help but notice her squirm a bit when she finds out that I was the Captain for the special forces. After we finish eating, she stands up and cuts up the pound cake that she made from scratch. I groan as I take a bite of the dessert and she bites her lip as she watches me.

            “Where do you think you’re going, darlin’?” I ask with cake still in my mouth as she gets up carrying our empty dinner plates and walks to the sink.

            “You cooked, I’ll clean. It’s only fair.”

            “No ma’am. You’re a guest. Put those down!” I say as I swallow my bite.

            “No way, Jose.” She crosses her arms and cocks her hip out. “If you want me to leave the rest of that cake here with you, you’ll sit down and let me clean the dishes.” I grunt at her. Sassy little thing.

            “I’ll let you load the dishwasher. Fair?”

            “Fair, but I’m still handwashing these two pans.” Emma says as she sticks her tongue out at me and begins washing the pans.

            “Woman, you are something else.” I smirk at her and ogle her body in that dress while she has her back turned towards me.

            “Where’d you learn to bake like this?” I ask her pointing towards the cake as she dries of the pans with a dishtowel.

            “My best friend and college roommate’s grandmother. She lived about an hour from our apartment and she would come visit about two times a month and stock our fridge with all sorts of things. She knew that pound cake was my favorite so she gave me the recipe even though it was only given to women in their family. She’s essentially my Nana too now. She has given me lots of recipes but that’s my favorite. I enjoy baking, it feels like less of a chore than regular cooking.” She says with a smile.

            I lead her to the living room and offer her a beer which she accepts and we spend the next hour talking about our lives. She tells me a bit about her family, which consists of just her mom and dad. They still live in Alabama and she’d like them to move out this way but they're resistant to leave the comfort of familiarity. She was extremely close with her grandparents but they have all passed on as well. I explain how my dad took off when I was two and remarried and my mother raised me until she passed after battling breast cancer when I was a teenager. I told her about my older brother Mark who lives in Tennessee with his pregnant wife, Jenn, and my two-year-old niece, Lucy.

            “So, you’re telling me you left everything and everyone you know back in Alabama just because you got the vet job here in our little town? I find that a bit hard to believe darlin’.”

            “What’s so hard to believe? Maybe I just needed a change.”

            “You sure you’re not running from something? Or someone?”

            “Damn you for being so intuitive. I thought military men were just supposed to follow orders blindly and not think?” She deflects with a giggle and I know from her tone she’s just playing with me.

            “You couldn’t be more wrong about that, sweetheart. Remember I’m a Captain. My whole job relied on me reading situations and people. I ain’t gonna to push you to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”

            “It’s no big deal. Essentially, my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me. I caught him and learned it had been going on for several months before I found out. His name wasn’t on our apartment lease since he had moved in with me so I kicked him out and he wasn't happy about it. I had to get a restraining order when he showed up and broke in through the window after I had the locks changed. It was quite the talk of the town since his mistress is the assistant principal for the local elementary school. Ultimately, I just got tired of hearing the whispers and gossip while also feeling like I needed to watch my back. I needed a change of pace anyway so, here I am.”

“That fucker.” I muttered while shaking my head.

“Yup. Not the first time I’ve been cheated on either so I guess you could say that I don’t have the best track record with men.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry he treated you that way. He fucked up and then had the audacity to break into your home? God, I hate dipshits like that.”

“I always felt super safe in that town before and now it just feels… tainted? I guess? Turns out, a little piece of paper doesn’t keep people away. In his case, it just pissed him off more. His uncle is on the police force there so he felt like he was untouchable.”

“He showed up again after the restraining order?” She nodded while looking at her hands.

“Did he… Damnit Emma I said I wasn’t going to ask and I certainly don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but did he touch you? Hurt you?”

“It’s in the past, Austin. I’m here and I’m safe now. No use dwelling on it. It could have been worse. I was lucky, honestly.”

“What do you mean you were lucky?” She sighed and fiddled with her fingers.

“He showed up after being served the restraining order when I was coming home from work and slapped me around a bit.. I tried to defend myself, and I did for the most part. Ultimately, he busted my lip, and shoved me into a wall outside of my apartment. My neighbor happened to be home, heard the screaming and called the cops. I didn’t have to go to the hospital or anything so I got lucky. Just wounded my ego a bit.” She shrugged like she was fine but I could tell she was still afraid.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s not lucky. You still got hurt. Come’re. Can I hug you?” She nodded and I pulled her to my lap and hugged her tightly.

“You are safe here. If you ever feel scared or anything, please tell me. I want to protect you.” She’s tense as I hold her and I hear her sigh.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Austin. I’m fine. You don’t have to concern yourself with it. I left my problems in Alabama. I don't want to be the girl that everyone pities anymore.”

“I don’t have to do anything and you aren't someone I pity. I admire your strength and I want to concern myself with you. I really like you Emma. Like I can’t get you off of my mind. I ain’t trying to come on too strong and I know we just met but I want to get to know you in every way. The thought of you being scared to just go about your life makes me sick.”

Emma relaxed in my arms and buried her head in my neck as she tightened her arms around me. “I want that too. I mean, um, I like you too and want to get to know you better.”

“S'alright if I kiss you?” I normally wouldn’t ask but I don’t want her to startle her or make her uncomfortable.

She nods.

“Words sweetheart.”

“Kiss me.”

The words barely left her lips before I pressed mine against hers as my hand caressed her jaw. I felt her tongue swipe against my bottom lip asking for entry and I quickly granted it where she deepened the kiss. I groaned as her tongue stroked my own and I tasted her mouth. We kissed until we were both breathless and she pulled back before pressing her forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you apologize fer’a thing. You’re in control here, not me. This only goes as far as you want it to and believe me, I am more than happy just to sit here with you. Just looking at you and talking to you is all I need. I just want you to know that. I won’t pressure you now or ever.” I told her while looking into her eyes and she smiled.

“You’re too good to be true.” She whispered.

“Nah darlin’, I’m just decent person who values women and know that you don’t owe me a thing. I’m just enjoying being in your presence. That’s all I need from you. You decide the pace.”

She nods at me with a smile.

“I’m sorry that you’ve not been treated right before but I’m happy for the chance to do so.” I tell her while tucking her hair behind her ear. Emma leans down and kisses me again. We sit on the couch with Emma in my lap making out for a little while longer before Mills whines at the door to go outside. 

            “That is my que to get up and let you get back to your night.” Emma said quietly and I want to protest but she interrupts me. “I’ve got to be at work early in the morning anyway.” She stiffly climbs from my lap and I flush as I can’t exactly hide my raging boner but I quickly try and adjust myself so it’s not as noticeable.

            “I sure wish you didn’t have to go. I really enjoyed tonight. Feelin' like I’ve barely scratched the surface at all the things I want to know about you.”

            “Me too.” She shyly pecks my lips after I open the door and both of the dogs bound outside. I motion for her to step outside the back with me so I can keep an eye on Mills and I wrap my arm around her shoulder.

            “It might be clingy as fuck to ask this, but I’m a grown man who is not interested in playing games. Can I see you again tomorrow darlin’? Unless you’ve got plans of course.” Emma curls against me and rests her head against my chest.

            “Seeing as I only know like four people in this town, including you, I’ll have to see if I can pencil you in.” She smarts and I tickle her ribs.

            “Little smartass.” I chuckle and she giggles back.

            “What did you have in mind?” She asks.

            “Dinner at the Italian restaurant in town?”

            “Gia’s? It’s the best food I’ve had since I moved here. The owners must pity me after seeing how many times I’ve called for takeout from there just this month.”

            “We can get something else if you’re tired of” Emma interrupts me.

            “No! it’s so good! I’ve only ordered take out so I wouldn’t be the pitiful newbie that eats alone. I would love to go there with you, Austin.”

            “It’s a date. Text me your address. What time ya want me to pick ya up?”

            “5:30 still okay?”

            “That’s perfect, angel.”

            I whistle through my teeth for the dogs to come back in and Emma chuckles when Mills sees Aika coming straight back to me and clumsily attempts to follow her. We pet the dogs for a minute before Emma puts her shoes back on and grabs her purse. I grab her waist and gently press her up against the front door.

            “Now, I’m gonna walk you to your car here in a second but I needed one more of these before we are in public.” I bend down to kiss her passionately as she wraps her arms around my neck. I gently pin her with my hips against the door as her nails lightly scrape across the back of my head and I grunt. After a few more seconds of kissing her, I slowly pull back.

            “That may just be my new favorite thing, sugar.”

            “You call me that and I immediately think of Mrs. Clayton’s yorkie.” She giggles.

            “Nah, you’re much sweeter than that little yappy shit.” I say with a grin as I run my thumb across her cheekbone before pecking her lips again.

I carry the vase of sunflowers when I walk her out to her car and am surprised that it’s a nice almost new black jeep wrangler. I was too consumed with looking at her when she arrived to notice. She observes me looking at the SUV and smiles.

            “Like it?”

            “I thought veterinarian’s drove Audis and Mercedes.” I say and she rolls her eyes.

“Not this veterinarian. I love my Jeep. Driving around with my top off and the music blaring is a form of therapy for me.”

“I’m sorry, I think I had a stroke when you said “my top off” and didn’t hear anything else.” I joke.

She quickly pushes my arm. “You would only focus on that, pervert!” She giggles. I clutch my chest pretending to be hurt.

“Ouch, darlin’. You’re wounding me with the name calling.”

“You’ll survive.” She retorts with a wink.

“Let me know that you get home safely?” I ask and she nods before standing on her tiptoes to place one more chaste kiss to my lips before climbing in her jeep. Damn, I love seeing a little woman driving a big SUV and I can’t explain why. Just does something to me. Maybe it’s a size kink foreshadowing how much I’d like to see her little petite frame against my much larger one.

“See you tomorrow, Austin.”

“Looking forward to it, sugar.”

I walk back inside my house and for the first time since I renovated it, the house seems empty, like it’s missing something vital. Her. It’s missing her and the brightness I felt while she was here. Fuck, one date and she has me wrapped around her finger. She’s got me envisioning a future that I never thought I’d get to have.

Part 3

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal @kingliam2019 @syversonswife @identity2212 @starfirewildheart @hannah9921 @wa-ni @kneelforloki @cutedoxie

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Snow Angel

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 4.7K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: violence/abuse towards minors and unwanted comments from men

—————

I'll make it through the winter if it kills me. I can make it faster if I hurry. I'll angel in the snow until I'm worthy. But if it kills me, I tried

Tension is thick and heavy in the Miller home as Joel steps away from the door his failed attempt to open it with it locked before he hears something being pushed in front of it. He had seen the panic in your eyes, and he knew it wasn’t from the fight you were in. The older man looks over seeing his child and her friend standing where you once stood before you took off. “Joel.” She starts but he’s turning away moving to the kitchen,

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Ellie follows after him Dina trailing behind,

“No fucking listen to me. That wasn’t her fault you hear me!” Ellie points outside defending you and Joel places his hands on the counter.

“She broke a kid’s arm. Almost beat Seth’s kid to death if we didn’t show up. How is that not her fault?!” He yells as Ellie glares at him.

“She was fucking protecting us!” Ellie yells back, “They were harassing Dina, and when I tried stepping in they started messing with me. I didn’t think she’d beat the shit out of them, but she was protecting us.” Ellie explains and Joel looks over at Dina who nods anxiously being in the very tense home. The door slams open and Tommy quickly enters the kitchen.

“This is fucking great! Jesus Christ,” Tommy says gripping his hair as he kicks a chair that slides away from him, “Half the council wants her out, but the other part knows the raiders are gonna find Jackson because of her.” Tommy hisses.

“What the hell was that girl thinking?” Tommy says as Joel shakes his head leaning against the counter.

“Girls said she was protecting them,” Joel says gesturing to the girls who nod frantically.

“Ellie tried protecting me from Derek and the boys but they wouldn’t stop, when they brought up Ellie’s parents, she just jumped in. We didn’t expect it to go that far,” Dina explains as Tommy listens to her story,

“Those fuckers started all of this by bothering Dina.” Ellie spats and Joel gives her a look at her language. Tommy sighs pinching his nose, “I’ll talk to Maria and she’ll talk to the boys to get them to fess up but I gotta talk to the kid, she can’t do this if she wants to stay.” Tommy moves to your room twisting the handle not feeling it budge before knocking on it,

“Kid, it’s Tommy can you let me in?” He calls out only to get silence. “She barricaded herself in there,” Joel comments and his brother lets out a curse knocking his fist to the wall.

“Okay just keep me posted when she comes out, I gotta go let Maria know about all of this. Dina, you better head off as well.” Tommy says and the younger girl nods bidding her goodbyes while Joel leads Tommy to the porch, “Christ Joel I don’t know what the hell to do with that girl. Is she better out there than here safe with people?”

Joel is silent, he thought he and Ellie had a rough transition when they arrived in Jackson. A harsh attitude towards everyone but at least he had Tommy to help adjust then Ellie had gotten those friends. You had no one, you were brought here then kept locked up like an animal for almost a month to be brought out and just assumed to assimilate instantly. He felt a bit of guilt with how he treated you. You were only a kid from what Ellie told him you were only two years older than the girl. He felt torn in two, one was the fearful side of what he knew could do, but the other side he thought had died many years ago but was brought back by the sixteen-year-old girl. The one that wanted to protect and keep you safe, that paternal feeling that he felt towards Ellie but he was confused why he felt it so deeply towards you. So he covered it with anger and ruthlessness with curses and insults thrown your way only for you to return it.

“Tommy, you go figure that stuff out, I’ll keep you updated.” He pats his brother's shoulder and nods heading off his porch and heading back towards the main street. The day moves too quickly as the streetlights begin to turn on with the sunset. Joel turns back inside finding the young girl sitting against your door with a sad look on her face. His heart aches to see his surrogate daughter upset and knows he had a factor in it.

“Come on kid,” He calls out to Ellie as she looks up at him, “Get some rest you had a long day.” Joel watches the girl pull herself to her feet silently moving past him climbing the stairs slowly completely not Ellie-like and this only makes him feel worse. Joel sighs moving to the kitchen his hand grabs the glass and amber liquid before pausing and putting it away and the glass in the sink and moving to make himself a cup of coffee.

You were frozen as you sat in the corner of the dark room, outside was quiet and the house was silent as well. Slowly moving to stand your face aches in pain same with your bloody knuckles. You were only making things worse here, people were only to get hurt because of you. Looking in the boxes you find an old tattered backpack and you start shoving some clothes in the bag. You would worry about food and supplies later. You would head back to the cabin and get stuff then leave. Head north as you planned, go to Canada, and live there away from everyone. Grabbing a shirt and ripening it into strips wrapping them around your knuckles the fabric already soaking the blood using another piece pressing it against your lip hissing in pain from the split skin. You move to the door cringing at the loud noise the dresser produces as it scratches against the wood floors and you pause trying to listen for anything before you open the door and enter the dark hallway. It was dark but you knew all you had to do was walk forward and you’d reach the door and you’d be outside. Your footsteps are silent listening for any movements from anywhere in the house as you pass the opening to the living room.

“What are you doing kid,” A voice calls out making you freeze you look over spotting a shadowy figure and you see an arm move before light fills the room from the small lamp on the table next to him. Joel sat a mug in his hand no longer a glass of amber, was he waiting for you? “Where are you going?” He asks and you tighten your grip on the backpack strap.

“I’m leaving. You’re right I’m a problem here..I’d rather take my chances with the raiders.” You say turning to grab the door handle.

“Stop it, kid.” He stops you once again your hand on the handle, “Listen…shit...I’m... I’m sorry.” He says and your hand falls from the door as you turn to face the man who looks quite anxious under your gaze unlikely the times he looked so intimidating. “You shouldn’t be forced to make these kinds of decisions and I shouldn’t have treated you like an adult when you are a kid.”

“I’m eighteen.” You retort and he gives you a look before continuing, “You were brought here to just be locked up and then forced to act normal around people you just met. You reacted a whole lot better than I would’ve.” He says and you give him a look.

“I broke one guy’s arm and some guy’s face, how is that a whole lot better.” You say and his look darker slightly, “I probably would have killed the guys.” The room grows silent at his confession as he looks over you.

“What I’m trying to say is you weren’t given time to adjust and your actions are justified,” Joel says and you slowly nod, “So if you’re going to leave I won’t stop you, but you won’t be safe out there I can tell you that. But if you decide to stay you’ll be protected here I promise you that.” He brings the mug to his lips taking a sip as silence once more fills the room as you are torn between two places. You were more in your element out there where it was ruthless and chaotic, here it was normal though you never knew of normal, it was like the outbreak never happened here. Families could live and grow, and children wouldn’t be in fear of Fedra or infected attacking anyone. It was protected and that was something you’ve never experienced before. You protected yourself but you’ve never once in your life been protected by others. The rational part of your mind tells you to leave, you knew what you were doing. You survived eighteen years of your life without the help of others but the irrational part is the one that looks at the calm man before you. The older man who urges you to stay and be safe…to be a kid again. That part of your mind that wants that normalcy, to have friends, to not fight every day to survive, to be taken care of due to the lack you received as a child. You stare at the door handle in front of you calling for you to leave but the backpack slides off your shoulder hitting the floor and Joel lets out a small sigh of relief.

“This doesn’t make us friends or whatever…you or your family,” Your voice cold that thick boundary place and he watches the small glimpse of you disappear replaced by the girl from outside the walls. The one that murdered a group of raiders alone and only cared about herself and her survival, “I don’t need any of you.”

He doesn’t get to answer as you turn to head back to your room the door closing behind leaving him alone. Joel thinks of the event that led all of them here. Would things have been different if they left you in that cabin or if Tommy or Jesse never met you? You both would have lived in your separate worlds maybe at one point in time met but it would have been as enemies. Either them putting a bullet in your head or you get them first. The tough-hitting thoughts create a pain in his head and he sighs finishing up the drink before retreating to his room. He pauses at the foot of the stairs looking down the hall to where you rest before he heads upstairs to try and get some sleep.

It was weird sleeping in a bed after weeks of being in that cell with that concrete bed. It was too soft and you sank into the mattress. You did feel much warmer under the thick blankets, unlike the single thin and scratchy blanket in the cell. The sunlight woke you up hitting you directly in the eye, you grimace feeling the dry blood on your face and your hands. Looking around the room and finding the bag you packed last night resting on the dresser you knew you hadn’t brought it back here. You open the pack and grab some clothes before you exit the room. It’s relatively quiet as you enter the bathroom that’s right across from your room glad you didn’t have to go upstairs. It seemed stocked up as you stripped jumping into the shower. It took you a second to figure out the mechanics almost shouting from the sudden cold water that drenched you but it soon became warm and you quickly accepted. You lather your hair in the shampoo and conditioner as you clean the rest of your body, the water once clear runs red with the blood you had to scrub off your body. Once done you dress and find a brush getting all the tangles and knots out of your hair letting it rest naturally wet against your neck. The bathroom seemed stocked with everything you would need some items you’ve never seen before or hadn’t had quite the luxury of having. You never were more grateful for a stick of deodorant enjoying the fresh scent of it plus the soap. Leaving the bathroom happy with the fresh feeling when you hear voices coming from down the hall in the living room.

“So she tried leaving?” You hear Tommy’s voice and the hum of another man. “Thought it would be easy for all of us. Think she’s still sleeping.” Joel’s voice calls out as you slowly creep down the hall looking through the doorway that enters the kitchen giving a clear view of the connecting kitchen and living room. Joel and Tommy sit on the couches in both men's hands a mug and you can see the steam coming off them.

“I’m glad you convinced her to stay,” Tommy says taking a sip of his drink, “You know she kinda reminds me of you. Not sure if that’s a good thing, you are a pain in my ass.” He says and Joel glares at him as Tommy cracks a grin. You don’t listen to more as you hear someone you assume Ellie come bounding down the stairs and you quickly retreat into your room as the conversation with the new edition becomes muffled. It was drawing near the time for breakfast at the mess hall, Ellie getting her shoes on as he made his way to the room at the end of the hall. Knocking before giving it a second before he enters. You sit on the edge of the bed, wrapping strips of fabric around your knuckles.

“We have bandages if you need them,” Joel comments on the homemade wrappings but you shake your head moving to wrap your other fist.

“I don’t need that.” You remark and the adult watches you struggle slightly to wrap it around your non-dominant hand. “Here let me hel-” He moves forward to grab your hand and you pull your hand back with a sharp look.

“I can do it.” You hiss and Joel takes a step back watching you slowly restart but after two failed tries he moves forward ignoring your protest grabbing the wrapping and doing it with ease around your knuckles. Glancing briefly up at you seeing you looking away your other hand digging into your pant leg your foot fidgeting. Finishing with the wrapping spotting a discoloration on your skin on your forearm but you quickly pull down your sleeve past your wrist.

“All done…” Joel says standing back up and you seem to relax the tension in your shoulders when he creates distance, “It’s close to breakfast so start getting ready.”

“You don’t need to make me breakfast,” You murmur fixing your sleeves on both arms, “I can do it myself.”

“Well we ain’t having breakfast here so get your shoes and coat,” Joel says and you stand up hearing this news. You didn’t want to go out there and see all of them. You rather be holed up in here until you could leave this place. “I’m not going.” You cross your arms and Joel throws you a look.

“That isn’t your decision, Tommy and Maria said you have to be there,” Joel says slowly growing frustrated mirroring your pose. They weren’t allowed to make those decisions they didn’t fucking own you. “Well, you can tell Maria and Tommy to fuck off.” You spit and Joel steps forward and you are ready for the screaming match.

“Hey!” “Joel!” The young voice of Ellie pops into the room hanging onto the doorframe looking between the two of you, “Hey! You joining us for breakfast?” Ellie says a look of excitement on her face.

“No.” “Yes.” You and Joel both speak at the same time glares thrown at each other.

“Great! Tommy and Maria are waiting outside.” Ellie takes Joel’s answer before she heads outside leaving the two of you. Joel and you stare at each other waiting for the other to break and it pisses you off seeing the lack of remorse or patience for you. Grabbing your coat and shoes from the end of your bed heading to the door not before slamming your shoulder into Joel’s.

“Little shit..” He whispers under his breath as he heads out to the entranceway spotting you finishing the laces on your boots before throwing the door open and heading outside.

“Finally. Hurry up I’m fucking starving.” Ellie calls out from the steps of the porch and you spot further behind her Maria and Tommy. You stiffen seeing the small child in the woman’s arm looking at you innocently. It made you uncomfortable seeing her hold that child so gently and with a small smile on her face in the presence of that infant. You felt sick.

“Glad to see you kid,” Tommy greets you as you keep staring at his child with wary eyes. He clears his throat getting your attention, “When we get to the mess hall you’re going to have to see Derek and the boys. I want you to apologize to them.”

“I’m not doing shit. They fucking started it! Why the hell should I apologize.” You scoff and the three adults give you a look.

“Look Derek is Seth’s son he runs the mess hall and the Tipsy Bison, just be the bigger person please,” Tommy pleads and you roll your eyes starting the unfortunate trip through the streets of Jackson. You walked between Tommy and Ellie your hands shoved in your pockets a bitter look on your face.

“They should fucking apologize to me for being dickbags.” You sneer, “Hey language.” The three adults say as you reach the main street. Burning eyes of people milling on the streets watching the girl that has been trouble since coming here. You see a group of older women standing together whispering to each other and glancing back at you.

“The fuck you starin' at?” You call out to them and they all give appalled looks as you walk past them Joel sighs and Tommy groans apologizing to the women on your behalf.

“What did I just say…” Tommy says and you glare at him, “You said to apologize to dickwads not the group of hags gossiping.” You spit and the man groans trying to prepare himself for when they reach the mess hall. You barred your teeth at people snarling at kids who looked at you run leaving before scared adults and some crying children.

“Jesus, you got half of Jackson either pissing their pants or running to their mothers,” Ellie comments seeing you death glare at two men who stare at you for too long for your liking.

“Just get to the damn hall,” Joel says sighing already fatigued by the trip here and how much of an impression you were doing for yourself. The hall was slowly filling with people coming for that morning rush. People get out of your way as the six of you enter, the friendly atmosphere dropping as they see you standing in the doorway. Finding a table you shove yourself in a seat far in the corner away from the glaring eyes of people. Ellie sits beside you followed by Joel, Tommy across from you, Maria next to him, and their son sitting in the woman’s lap. Tommy seems to scan the room before spotting what he wanted to find and turns back to you seeing you picking at the wood of the table.

“Stop that. Alright, Derek and the boys are over there I want you to go over and apologize. Keep it sweet and simple, avoid the language, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ and you’re fine.” Tommy points over to the table on the other side of the mess hall as you follow his finger before you spot them. Derek’s face is bruised with bandages on sections of his face, another one of them has their arm in a sling and a large split in their lip, and the other one has a fat bruise across his cheek. They looked like they got their ass handed to them, while you walked away with a cut on your temple, a split lip, and bruised knuckles.

“They looked fucked up,” You comment a small curl of your lip happy with the damage you did. They fucking deserved it for what they did. “Hey!” Tommy snaps his fingers drawing your attention back.

“Go over and apologize. We’ll grab food afterward. Just be yourself.” He says and you give him and look, “Actually be the opposite of yourself.” You scowl at him as he waits for you to move and you groan standing as your chair scrapes back shoving your hands in your pocket.

“Ellie make sure she doesn’t just insult them,” Joel says and the young girl nods standing joining you and you look at Tommy. Did you have to do this? The impatient look has you tilting your head back with a groan before you trudge your way across the room. You could feel the people’s gaze tracing after you their conversations growing quiet when you passed by them. Reaching the table you see the injured boys notice your presence as their conversation grows quiet as you stand before them Ellie a few feet away. Your attention was less focused on the others but mainly on Derek as he was apparently the guy who runs this place’s son.

“I…” Your hands curl up into fists as the words feel like lead in your mouth as you force them out, “I wanted to…apologize for my actions…it…it was wrong to hurt you.” You grit the words and you see the pleasure on Derek’s face knowing you were forced to say those words. Derek leans forward a smirk on his face, “And..” You feel your blood boil as your nails dig into your palms. It took everything in you to not grab his ugly mug and slam it into the table.

“And…I’m…I’m sorry.” The words grit through your teeth and he nods as he brings a hand to his chin.

“Sorry speak up, I didn’t hear what you said.” He holds a hand to his ear as the two idiots chuckle beside him enjoying the anger and the embarrassment on your face for having to apologize to them when you both knew you were justified to whoop their fucking asses.

“I’m…” “Speak up still can’t hear you.” Derek says and the boys chortle your nails digging deep into your palm, “I’m sorry.” You articulate the venom clearly in your tone as you’re forced to look at him as he takes in your words. You turn ready to head back to your table when he speaks up.

“Why don’t you come to the back and you can really show me how sorry you are.” He says smugly and you hear the snickers coming from his friends at what he was insinuating. You freeze and your eyes meet Ellie she couldn’t hear exactly what was said but saw the anger deep in your eyes before they moved to the table across the room with the adults watching the situation. Your gaze meets Tommy and his face morphs realizing what you’re about to do as the boy behind you speaks up, “Come up I’ll be sure to put that mouth to wor-” His head snaps back a large crack filling the air and you welcomed the pain in your already injured knuckles and seeing the blood freely falling from his rebroken nose.

“Eat shit.” You hiss quickly heading for the exit leaving the commotion behind you as the hall is quickly filled with shouting. Good job being the opposite of yourself.

Your back pressed against the boxes in your room as you sat in the corner. It felt like the only place you could hide and avoid the fight you knew was to come. You hear the door open and the heavy footsteps followed by the lighter ones but the heavy ones move towards your room. Joel opens the door at first not seeing you before spotting the tips of your shoes peeking from behind the tower of boxes. Moving until he sees you sitting against the wall your knees to your chest as you flex and unflex the hand you used to punch Derek.

“What the hell was that? What happened to apologizing and leaving.” Joel says crouching down to your level as your gaze is glued to the wall in front of you as you focus on the blood soaking the ‘bandages’, “Are you listening to me?”

“He wanted me to suck his dick.” You mumble and Joel grows silent sure he misheard you, “What?” He says and you don’t even glance at him, the lack of emotion in your voice as you sit huddled in the corner away from view.

“He said he wanted me to come to the back to show how ‘sorry’ I was. He was sure to put my mouth to-” “Stop.” Joel cuts you off before you can finish he feels disgusted hearing what was spoken to you. He wanted to go back to that mess hall and beat the crap out of that punk if that’s what he thinks about treating women. But the rational adult part knew that wasn’t the reason they brought you over to apologize.

“I’m sorry he said that. No man should talk to a lady like that.” Joel says and you scoff finally making eye contact with him though very briefly, “Like I’m a lady. Besides I’ve dealt with worse than some limp-dick teen.” He couldn’t help his mind run with slight concern, what was worse than what happened together that made this incident now insignificant? Joel stands looking down at the girl who continues to stare at the wall. It was moments he felt like two different people were in you; One was a ruthless girl who killed multiple adults twice your size and beat up three teens on her own, but the other was this timid girl who hid in corners and avoided care or help and was an insecure shell of a person.

“I think it’s best if you avoid the mess hall. Let this all simmer, I’m sure we have some leftovers to eat.” Joel says and you hum absentmindedly your gaze staring at the wallpaper that was beginning to peel in the corner. Joel looks at you one last time before retreating from your room finding the other Millers waiting on the couch for the information. Tommy felt like he was going to gain grey hairs too early from how much stress you put him through. The other brother sits up seeing the other enter the room seeing the exhausted look on his face as he rubs a hand on his beard.

“So what did she say, 'cause I don’t think Seth is going to accept a second time of her assaulting his son,” Tommy says as Joel leans against the wall rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He peeks around the corner trying to spot the younger girl who retreated upstairs to her room before turning to the couple.

“The kid…he had suggested some inappropriate actions as a form of forgiveness.” He felt sick saying it trying to be as PG as possible with the presence of the two-year-old in Maria’s arms. The looks of disgust and horror are clear on the two parents' faces as Tommy sighs pushing his hair back and Maria looks furious her motherly instincts reacting.

“I’ll speak to the council, though she shouldn’t have laid her hands on him. We don’t excuse harassment of any kind. Derek will be punished accordingly,” Maria says, and both brothers nod, “But so will Y/n for today and yesterday. Tommy and I spoke about this last night I think it’s best we get her to do some work for the community. It will keep her preoccupied instead of cooped up here, but for the safety of others until she grows more comfortable around others probably a job away that can be more secluded.” She explains and Joel nods. Ellie had her classes to keep her busy and if not if was hanging out with her friends. You technically didn’t need school so giving you work would keep you busy.

“What did you have in mind?”

[reduxulousoctopus]

Logan: “Whatever Chuck did in there, it worked. I don’t know how he faced that thing. He never loses his cool.” Rogue: “Forget it, hon. In our business, we all get shook up every now and again.” Logan: “I don’t.” — X-Men: The Animated Series, season four, "Proteus"

~4500 words, immediately Post-Episode, Morpherine established relationship, The Most Traumatized Man in the World dealing with the fact that he is now Slightly More Traumatized

If you missed my last fic, Morph has in-universe (he/him) and out-of-universe (they/them) pronouns because I think that's funny.

--

After watching waves crash against the island’s rocky shore for a moment, Logan stuffs his hands into his pockets and starts walking in the direction of the tarmac where they left the Blackbird. He’s ready to go the fuck back to Westchester, find his favorite seat at the bar, and drink until he forgets he even exists. Plenty of ye olde pubs to be found on the mainland, of course, but he’s had more than enough of bonnie Scotland for one day.

Too bad some force out there—be it God, the Devil, or the whims of an uncaring universe—seems dead set against ever letting Logan have what he wants.

“I think the professor’s gonna want to stay a while longer,” Rogue pipes up behind him. “Y’know, to make sure Kevin’s really okay, and to make sure Dr. MacTaggert’s doin’ alright, too. We probably got at least an hour to kill before it’s time to head home.”

Holding back an enraged scream, Logan instead grunts out through gritted teeth, “Uh-huh.”

“Why don’t you pay Morph a visit?” Rogue suggests with a smile. “That might make you feel better. Even if you don’t wanna talk to him about what happened, he always puts you in a good mood.”

Despite her words, Logan’s mood somehow turns even more sour at the thought of seeing Morph again. He crosses his arms and grumbles under his breath, “Morph’s already got more than enough to deal with—he doesn’t need me dumpin’ a load of my garbage on top of everything else.”

Rogue rolls her eyes. “For some reason, Morph actually seems to like your garbage. I already told him you’d come see him before we left. You gonna make a liar outta me, or do I have to throw your sorry butt in through his window?”

How in the hell did Logan end up surrounded by so many females who think they can boss him around? Jean, Storm—even Jubilee’s gotten real bold about demanding rides to the mall.

They’re completely right, of course, but they don’t always have to rub his nose in it.

“I can walk.” Logan gives her a mocking bow. “By your leave, ma’am.”

“Go on, now, get,” Rogue says, nodding her head towards the research center’s entrance. “Surly ol’ polecat. Don’t know how Morph puts up with you.”

Thing is, Logan thinks as he grudgingly makes his way back inside the building, he isn’t so sure Morph wants to put up with him anymore. Three times now, he’s had to watch Morph walk away and not look back, even as Logan called his name.

Kinda hard for a fella not to start taking that personally.

Upon entering the laboratory where the others have gathered, Logan immediately locates the cause of his bad day—across the room, playing some kind of hologram puzzle game with Cassidy, too busy to notice him—before very deliberately looking away and approaching Dr. MacTaggert instead. “Hey, Doc. I’m gonna head upstairs. Unless now’s a bad time…?”

She’s understandably reluctant to tear her eyes away from her son. Even when she manages to meet Logan’s gaze, it takes her a second to actually register what he said.

“Oh! Of course you’ll be wanting to see Morph.” She checks her watch. “He should be nearly done with his morning round of mnemotransience therapy. I’ll call the supervising nurse to let her know you’re on your way.”

Logan frowns, wondering what the fuck ‘nemo-transients’ are, but nods politely when she tells him which room Morph’s in. Not that he needs directions—as usual, Logan opts to trust his nose, letting Morph’s familiar scent lead him through the building, instead. But when he arrives outside the closed door at the end of the trail, something makes him hesitate.

He reaches for the knob. Pauses.

Reaches again, before pivoting on his heel and walking back the way he came.

Stops. Runs his hand through his hair. Returns to the door.

Hesitates again. Growls in frustration.

“Just leave him alone, old man,” Logan mutters to himself. “He’s here to heal.”

Not listen to a whining, yellow-bellied coward like me.

With that bitter self-recrimination, Logan turns away from the door again—only to nearly jump out of his skin when he hears it suddenly open behind him.

“Are you that ‘X-Man’ come to visit Morph?” asks the middle-aged woman with frizzy grey hair and coke-bottle glasses. “Sorry love, Moira called ahead but I only just remembered the door was locked. Must not have heard your knockin’ over my headphones, either. Come on in, love, he’s almost done with his treatment, shouldn't be more than a minute or so.”

Now there’s no chance he can sneak away without word getting back to Morph. Reluctantly, Logan follows the nurse into the room. As soon as he’s through the threshold and he hears the door automatically lock itself behind him, his breath catches and a bolt of sick terror shoots through him, followed quickly by rage.

He hates hospitals, and he really hates laboratories; this room is some hellish combination of both. Sterile metal walls, acrid chemical smells, computers and machinery blinking and blooping with obscure purpose in stalagmite-like clusters rising from the floor. Seeing Morph unconscious on a slab, hooked up to those machines—it makes him want to break things. His pulse is a war-drum in his ears.

This can’t actually be helping Morph get better. They’re hurting him, experimenting on him maybe. Ripping him apart to learn how his shapeshifting powers work. Maybe that’s how MacTaggert figured out how to make her son look normal, because that’s all humans ever want from mutants: to use them, or make them normal.

His claws itch at the underside of his skin. He’s gotta get Morph out of here, run away as far and fast as they can because if they can’t trust MacTaggert then they can’t trust Xavier then they can’t trust the X-Men—

Logan closes his eyes. His thoughts are spiraling in on themselves like a dog chasing its tail; he grabs that dog by the chain and forces it to heel. Maybe he can’t trust MacTaggert—the fact she managed to hide her mutant son from Xavier all these years proves she’s good at keeping secrets, who knows what other skeletons may be hanging in that woman’s closet?—but he damn well knows by now that he can trust Xavier and the X-Men. There’s no point in speculating to the contrary. May as well start doubting that the sun will rise or the tides will turn; may as well send himself to the funny-farm, too, while he’s at it.

“You can sit in that chair while you wait, love,” the nurse says suddenly. Logan’s body jerks in surprise as his eyes snap open. She doesn’t seem to notice, though, already taking her own seat behind a desk not far from the door and picking up a well-worn paperback romance novel. “That one there, by the window.”

“Thanks,” Logan grunts.

The nurse puts on her headphones and presses the play button on her portable tape-player. Logan blinks as his acute hearing picks up shredding guitars, crashing drums, and guttural, growling vocals.

He would not have guessed from looking that she was a metal fan.

Although he moves towards the window the nurse mentioned, Logan doesn’t sit down in the squashy-looking armchair. Instead, he slides the window open and just stands there a while, breathing deeply. No ocean-view this side, but he can smell the brine and feel the cold wind against his face. He can hear crashing waves.

He can still smell Morph, too, which is always a balm—even if he can’t bear to look at him while he’s hooked up to those machines. He can hear his heartbeat and his calm, soft breaths.

Eventually, the room stops feeling quite so much like a trap snapping shut around him.

Morph trusts Dr. MacTaggert. Trusts this place, even if it makes Logan’s skin crawl. He clearly feels safe enough to recover here. Safer than he felt at the mansion, apparently.

Safer than he felt under Logan’s protection.

Some ‘protection.’ Not even one whole day back and I let him go up against Sentinels again.

Yet even when confronted by his worst fear, Morph ran in literally guns-blazing and faced an entire squad of Sentinels almost single-handed to save the team. A true X-Man, through and through.

And what does that make me? Just the guy that turns tail and runs while his friends are in danger, all because he let himself get spooked by a snot-nosed teenager with daddy-issues.

Logan hasn’t forgiven Morph for leaving again—hell, he might even hate him a little—but he’s still so proud of him. That pride only deepens his own shame.

Bamboo and steel, like Master Oku used to say. Guys like Morph, like Xavier and Beast and Nightcrawler, too: they’re bamboo. Strong enough to bend, able to grow back when cut down. For all that Logan’s bones are plated in adamantium, as often as he’s tried to change his nature, he knows he’s made of steel. Tough. Unyielding. Inflexible. Beaten into the proper shape, ground down to a razor’s edge. And if even one crack appears—he breaks.

Even reforged, a broken blade will always be weaker than it once was.

Something beeps on the console by Morph’s bed. Eerily, he seems to instantly snap from asleep to fully alert, like he isn’t so much waking up as activating. His eyes open and he takes a single, sharp breath, which he holds for a moment before releasing it in a sigh.

Logan crosses his arms and leans back against the window-sill, content to watch that long, lean body stretch and those pretty brown eyes flutter.

When Morph eventually sees him standing there, to Logan’s relief, he smiles. That’s gotta count for something. “Hiya, Logan…”

“Hey, kid,” he says softly.

I miss you.

I hate you.

Something terrible happened.

Come home.

I don’t know how to be afraid. I don’t know how to bend.

I don’t deserve you.

“Nice helmet,” Logan says. “You look ridiculous.”

Morph laughs as he sits up and starts to remove the strange device strapped to his head. “You think this helmet looks ridiculous, you should have seen my first and only attempt to design my own costume. There’s a reason why I opted to go with the generic uniform, instead.”

“Well, now I’ve gotta see it. You can’t say that and not show me.”

“And lose what little respect for me you have left? No thanks.” After setting the odd helmet down on the side-table, Morph taps it with his finger. “This is a new thing we’re trying out. Moira says it might help make my nightmares and flashbacks less intense.”

Logan nods like he knows anything about anything. “Nemo-transients therapy, right.”

Morph laughs again. “Right.”

“What’s it do?”

“No idea. Moira tried to explain the science but there were a few too many five-dollar words,” Morph admits. “Basically, it’s meant to make some of my bad memories fade away a little over time, the way the memories of other people do.”

“That perfect recall of yours givin’ you trouble?” Logan guesses with a regretful sigh. It’s a necessary side-effect of Morph’s powers. He can just glance at someone and remember every single detail of their appearance; listen to a brief recording of a voice and replicate it flawlessly; watch anyone perform a physical skill, from a martial arts maneuver to a complicated dance-step, and immediately add it to his own repertoire.

He could probably tell you how many rivets were used to construct the Sentinels that killed him. Or remember the exact moment—month, day, hour, minute, and second—when he realized that no one was coming to rescue him from Mister Sinister; that the X-Men, his friends, the people he trusted most in the world, really had left him for dead.

“On the bright side, I never had to study back when I was in school. You win some, you lose some.”

“Morph…” Logan uncrosses his arms and takes a step towards the bed, but stops himself from getting any closer. Although the nurse is thoroughly distracted by her kissing book and her metal music, she could glance up at any moment. Besides, there’s a security camera looming in the corner of the ceiling, pointed directly at them.

As much as Logan might want Morph to come home, he won’t do it by making this place unsafe for him, should someone at the research center react poorly to seeing two men be a little too affectionate with each other. His hands fall uselessly to his sides.

“I can’t say I like the idea of you lettin’ people tamper with your memories,” Logan admits after a moment.

“It doesn’t erase anything. Just sorta gives me a little breathing room, so the other therapies actually have a chance to stick. That’s all,” Morph assures him. When Logan still looks unconvinced, he adds, “The professor helped design it, if that makes you feel any better.”

It does, actually. Logan can’t understand any of this modern, high-tech psychology mumbo-jumbo. Back in his day, when a fella got a case of shell-shock, the brass would just put a gun in his hands and shove him back in the fight. If Xavier and Morph both agree that this is the best way to help Morph get better, who is Logan to question it?

“I don’t know how much longer we’ve got before it’s time to catch my ride back to Westchester,” Logan says.

“Oh.” Morph shoots him a knowing smile and a wink. “I get you.”

Well. That wasn’t what Logan was getting at, but he definitely isn’t going to say no…

Morph yawns and stretches again. This time, there’s nothing innocent in the arch of that spine or the flex of those lean muscles. “Goodness, these sessions sure take it out of me.”

“How ‘bout I walk you to your room,” Logan offers.

“Thanks, Logan,” Morph says with a shameless grin. “You’re a good pal, y’know that?”

As they walk towards the exit, Morph pauses to drum his fingertips across the nurse’s desk. She jumps and removes her headphones with a slightly guilty-looking smile. “All done, then, love? How was the session?”

“Good. How are Fae and Tavish?” Morph asks. After a moment of confusion, Logan realizes those must be the names of the woman with the heaving bosom and the oiled-up, tartan-clad highlander and on the cover of the nurse’s romance novel. “Have they sorted out that little misunderstanding at the clanmeet yet?”

“Aye, things are finally heating up again,” the nurse replies with a grin. “So if you wouldn’t mind maybe holding off telling Moira you’re done with your session, that’d be grand.”

Morph literally zips his lips shut. After Logan and the nurse have a good laugh, he unzips to say, “Don’t work too hard, Doreen.”

“You know I’m in no danger of that, love!” she calls after him as they leave the room.

Although the two of them don’t speak as Morph leads Logan through the halls of the research center, their eyes keep meeting as anticipation builds. It’s been too long—even longer, if you don’t count that cramped, awkward quickie in the mini-jet en route between Morph’s welcome home party and the trashed polymer factory.

When they arrive at Morph’s guest room, Logan doesn’t have long to re-familiarize himself with the scenery. The door is barely shut and locked behind him before Morph slams him up against it with enough force to rattle the hinges. Logan growls appreciatively around the tongue in his mouth and slides his hands down Morph’s back to grab his ass.

There’s surely no better cure for what ails him.

–

Glaring up at the ceiling several minutes later, Logan thinks he’s going to kill someone. Possibly himself.

“It… it’s fine, Logan. Really.”

“Shut up,” Logan snaps. He flops back against the scratchy hospital sheets covering Morph’s bed and hides his eyes in the crook of his arm.

“Everybody has trouble, uh, performing sometimes,” Morph insists. “Especially older—er, I mean—”

“Stop. Talking.”

Morph sighs and turns away, looking frustrated, worried, and worst of all, guilty. That last one breaks Logan’s heart a little. This sure as hell isn’t Morph’s fault. He doesn’t deserve Logan’s anger.

Too bad anger is just about all he ever has to offer.

“I should go,” Logan says, wishing he’d stuck to his guns and stayed away instead of letting Rogue bully him. He’s no good for Morph like this.

Not enough of a man to stand and fight. Not enough of a man to fuck. What good am I for anyone?

Logan stops in the middle of looking for his clothes to shut his eyes, clench his trembling fists, and wait for the wave of rage to pass over him before resuming his search.

“Oh… okay,” Morph says. Logan can’t bear to look at him. He has his jeans buttoned and is in the middle of shrugging on his flannel shirt when Morph asks, “How’d the mission go, by the way?”

A pure, wimpering-animal dread creeps into his chest. Morph keeps talking—Logan hears Rogue’s name, and the phrase ‘made of glass’—but nothing else sinks in. His stomach turns. Sweat beads on his brow. Although he can feel air rushing in and out of his lungs, he can’t breathe.

“Why do you care?” Logan snaps. He can barely hear himself over the blood rushing in his ears. “Thought you turned your back on that life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Morph demands. “Of course I care—you’re still my friends, I’m still an X-Man! Do you think I wanted to leave?”

“I… I don’t know why I said that,” Logan lies. His vision blurs, but he can still see his own body being ripped apart, melted down into slag. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes as hard as he can. They have to be playing tricks on him. He’d be able to smell that monster coming.

Right?

“Besides, I didn’t turn my back on you! You turned your back on me, left me to—” There’s a soft thud behind him as Morph punches the mattress. “No… no, that’s not true. Especially not about you. You did more than anybody to… But don’t you see? That’s why I had to leave! I’m no good for the team like this. I thought you understood that.”

Logan nods, although gun-to-his-head, he couldn’t say what he’s agreeing to. He stands up and staggers a few steps away from the bed on legs that feel like jelly. He needs… he needs… to button his shirt. Find his boots.

Grab your gun and head back out there, soldier. The war ain’t over just because you’re scared.

“Logan…?”

“What?!” Why can’t he find his fucking boots? Why can’t he see anything besides his own body being ripped apart, melted down into slag.

“Why are your claws out?”

Logan blinks. Looks down at his hands.

His claws hiss back at him like angry snakes.

He retracts them, feels them squirm all the way back up into his arms, alien and repulsive in a way they haven’t felt since they were brand-new.

He blinks again, and suddenly Morph is standing in front of him, between Logan and the door. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Logan should be the one closest to the door. When that monster comes in here—

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Morph says. He offers a smile completely devoid of amusement or joy. “And I’m heading that way, too, so lets see if all these boring counseling sessions I’ve had to sit through are worth the time I could have spent watching TV.”

Closely observing Logan to gauge his reaction, Morph takes his hand and guides it to his bare chest. His heartbeat is a little too fast, his breaths shaky and hitched. Holding Logan’s hand in place, Morph takes as slow and steady an inhale as he can manage, holds it for a few seconds, then releases a sighing exhale. Again and again. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. Although Logan doesn’t mean to join in the breathing exercises, he finds himself subconsciously matching Morph’s pace.

Over the course of what somehow feels both like several hours and no time at all, Morph’s heartbeat gradually slows to something approaching normal. As it does, the worst of Logan’s terror fades, leaving him exhausted, angry, and embarrassed in its absence.

The monster—the kid is still downstairs with his mother, Cassidy, Beast, and Xavier. The only thing tormenting him is a few bad memories.

“Sit down,” Morph says, pushing him a few steps backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. Logan doesn’t sit so much as collapse. His muscles twitch uselessly with unspent adrenaline. “Easy, big guy. A panic attack can really take it out of you. Believe me, I know.”

“You take it easy,” Logan snaps without any heat. “I don’t get panic attacks.”

“Uh-huh,” Morph says dryly, not buying what Logan’s selling even at a discount. Standing between Logan’s spread knees, Morph reaches out and runs a hand through his hair. Logan nearly growls at him—until he feels blunt fingernails scratch over his scalp just right. All the fight bleeds out of him until he can only slump forward and rest his sweaty forehead against Morph’s belly.

While he continues to play with Logan’s hair, Morph speaks again: “You and I aren’t great at this mushy stuff. And I know you too well to bother asking if you want to talk about what’s wrong.”

Logan shakes his head.

“Just… know that if you did want to talk, I’d listen. Okay? I know what it’s like to go through this stuff, and I know it feels like you have to tough it out alone, but—”

“You don’t.”

Morph’s hands go still. “…What’s that?”

“You said you know what it’s like. But you don’t,” Logan repeats, gritting his teeth, “because nothing happened to me.”

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” Morph asks, taking a step back so he can look Logan in the eye. “Wait, so this isn’t about Weapon X, or Sabretooth and Fox, or—”

Of course Morph would assume that, because that might actually make some goddamn sense, but no. Some of the worst things that ever happened to him, yet they only ever made him tougher and stronger and angrier. Instead, it’s a kid throwing a temper tantrum that finally managed to break the Wolverine.

—he’s falling apart, weeping at the feet of a stranger he nearly killed, begging her for answers she can’t give him. Why did they do this?—

—pretty brown eyes stare up at him, brutalized and afraid. What’s the matter, punk? Can’t take care of your woman?—

—he sees his own body being ripped apart, melted down into slag. Where are you, Logan? Wolverine!—

“I ran away during the mission,” Logan snarls. There it is, the ugly truth.

A long, terrible silence hangs between them, until—

“Oh.”

Logan cringes and looks away like a scolded hound. Shame burns acidic in the back of his throat.

After a moment, Morph moves to sit next to him on the bed. Logan watches out of the corner of his eye as he leans forward, braces his elbows on his knees, picks at his hands.

Then, to his dismay… Morph quietly chuckles.

—high, mocking laughter echoes through the dark jungle. Who could ever love a freak like you?—

“Funny,” Morph remarks. Unlike the corrupted thing he became under Sinister’s control, there’s no sign of cruelty in his voice, his face, his pretty brown eyes. “I used to think you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“I’m not,” Logan insists, before amending: “I shouldn’t be.”

“Why? Is it so terrible to find out that you’re just as human—er, so to speak—as the rest of us?”

Logan frowns down at the floor between his bare feet.

“Or was all that stuff you told me after the Sentinels came back just bullshit to make me feel better?”

His gaze snaps up to meet Morph’s cold, flat stare. “It’s not the same.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because…” Logan starts, and then doesn’t know how to finish.

Morph, the absolute bastard, smirks like he’s already won the argument. “So you ran away. So what? Did you come right here, afterwards?”

“No,” Logan growls.

“In the time it took you to turn around and get back to the mission, was anyone killed or maimed?”

“The professor fell in a pit of fire.” Morph’s eyes go wide, which is a little gratifying at least. All the more unfortunate that Logan has to tack on a reluctant, “Dr. MacTaggert and I caught him.”

“Jesus… Don’t scare me like that, you asshole. Okay, you almost let Xavier fall in a pit of fire; I almost let Xavier’s brain get stolen by Sentinels,” Morph says with a shrug. “We’re as bad as each other. Anything negative you have to say about yourself, you may as well say about me, too.”

It’s a tidy little trap Morph’s caught him in, without a doubt. Hell of a catch, that catch-22.

“Alright, put it away,” Logan grumbles, and covers Morph’s entire smug, cackling face with one hand.

“What, my dick?” Morph asks, muffled against Logan’s palm. “Talking about some guy’s emotions while my whole hog is out. I feel like I’m in a student film.”

Logan laughs. “You coulda changed that at any point, shapeshifter.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining.” Despite his words, Morph shifts back into his uniform as he rises from the bed. “Alright, no bars on the island, but there’s probably a boat somewhere we could steal. Or I can turn into a whale and swim you across to the mainland.”

“Can’t,” Logan says regretfully, shaking his head. “My ride home is leavin’ soon.”

“I’ll buy you a plane ticket. Even better, I’ll pull a guilt-trip on Scott that'd put a Jewish grandmother to shame, get him to come visit me tomorrow, and you can fly back with him after. In the meantime, we’ll rent a hotel room for the night and see if Little Logan has recovered from his stage-fright.”

Logan chuckles. Seeing Morph play Summers like a fiddle would be worth the price of admission alone; that he’d be doing it so Logan can play hooky and drink beer and have sex is just gravy. Still, he can’t help but ask: “You sure it’s a good idea for you to leave?”

“I don’t imagine we’ll see Mister Sinister or any Sentinels having a pint down the pub in a random seaside village in Scotland,” Morph says with a laugh. “What about you? Any chance we’ll run into whatever freaked you out?”

Logan thinks of young Kevin MacTaggert, happy and safe with his mother and Xavier—the man who’s been a better father to him in the past two days than Joe MacTaggert has for the boy’s entire life. In a strange way, maybe that makes the kid a bit of an X-Man, too. “I’ll take my chances.”

Morph grins as he pulls Logan to his feet. He doesn’t let go of Logan’s hand right away, almost absentmindedly stroking the thick, rough callouses, the knots of scar tissue, the bulky pugilist’s knuckles.

Steel is tough. Unyielding. Inflexible. Beaten into the proper shape, ground down to a razor’s edge. Even reforged, a broken blade will always be weaker than it once was.

Luckily, for all that Logan’s bones are plated in metal, he isn’t made of steel. Flesh bleeds, flesh breaks; then it heals and grows back stronger.

Logan is pretty damn good at healing.

[sanaxo-o]

Lonesome (Ji Changmin)

Warnings: cheating, drinking, kissing, cursing, just hurt with no comfort lmao, genuinely just plain angst with no happy ending :)

Word count: 2594

Sana: Hihi back with our series Emails I can’t send fwd. It genuinely took me ages to write something because I kept jumping from one member to another and ally was just so understanding 😭. A huge huge thanks to @winterchimez @invuwrld and @from-izzy for beta reading this and giving me their suggestions. Love you guys <3

“One more of this please.” You say with your eyebrows arched together. Placing your aching head in your hands you heavy out a small, tired sigh as you think back to the times when you were still happy.

Ever since you were young, all you ever wanted was your love life to be filled with joy and happiness. You knew that was not it, you saw all the hardships your parents went through when they were together but they always found their way back to each other. That was true love in your eyes.

You always dreamed about finding a man who loved you just like your dad did; you remember your older brother talking with you about the girl he used to like. You were envious of that feeling he had because you never felt it, but when you saw your brother wail over the same girl who used to bring that silly smile to his face, it made you question if love was really what you thought it was.

You think back to the time when you promised your brother to never cheat on your future partner, the way his eyes glistened with tears because he was the one who got cheated on made you swear that never in your life will you ever cheat on your partner. That is if you ever find one.

And when you did find the one, you thought that’s all you will ever need. It was as if your life was complete and you were now with the man you would love forever.

Being with Changmin truly did change your life, the way your eyes would sparkle whenever you saw his smile or when he would do those small gestures for you unknowingly made you feel like you were the only person who would ever matter to him.

You thought you would never lose him, not with the way your relationship was going on a smooth pattern but life had different decisions for you.

When you got together with Changmin, you knew it was gonna be difficult in the beginning. The man was known for having commitment issues; he was popularly known for only dating for a month and then ghosting them.

But you thought what you had with him was different; you guys went through your relationship for over a month. Hell, you surprised everyone when you both celebrated your three months anniversary.

You never thought that it would all come crashing down like this, not when your love for him was so strong.

You should have known, you were not the one when he stopped gazing at you with love in his eyes, the way he started snapping at you for the smallest things and then apologising for it blaming that he was just stressed.

You were afraid— to be his history when you dreamed about being his present, past and future. Well, then it might just remain a dream then, right?

Taking a sip of the alcohol that was placed in front of you, you looked around your surroundings, the very place where your relationship started falling apart.

—x—

Flashback

Entering the crowded club, you try your best to stick around with Changmin. Coming out to clubs three times a week was never your thing. Yes, you went to clubs, but it was only for rare or special occasions.

But considering the fact that Changmin was a huge party animal, you knew you would have to come to some of the parties along with him. You were his girlfriend, after all.

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask Changmin with a small voice as you grip his hand tightly. Afraid you might get separated in this crowded place.

“I will just look for Juyeon, you should go and get yourself a drink. I will be back in no time.” Saying that Changmin gave your forehead a small kiss as he dragged you to the bar counter, “Order some drinks for yourself while I go and talk to Juyeon about something, hmm?” He says as he caresses your hands softly while lovingly gazing into your round eyes.

You could see the sparkle still present in them. It never seemed to disappear when you were with him, which warmed your heart.

Giving him a small nod you watch his figure disappear into the room full of people. Heaving out a sigh, you order yourself a mocktail, even though you are not in the mood to drink alcohol.

—x—

Heaving out a sigh you grip onto your phone as you look at the time displayed on your screen. 12:37. It has been more than an hour since Changmin walked away to have a talk with Juyeon, and still there was no sight of him.

Getting up from the stool, you hand the bartender the money you owe him as you start walking away from there to search for Changmin.

Going around the dance floor, there was no sight of Changmin. Getting worried, you go up to the second floor to search for him. He should most probably be there, right?

Walking up the stairs you start feeling nauseous, being around all those drunk people whose bodies kept on brushing against yours made you sick. You could smell all the sweat which made you want to throw up.

As you reach the second floor, you start walking towards the spread-out couches. Looking around you could feel your legs coming to an immediate halt when you saw Changmin talking with some other person, a woman to be exact.

You could not believe your eyes, he left you there all alone while he was chit-chatting with some other girl.

Taking slow steps towards him you noticed Changmin look up at you, but his eyes did not sparkle like they used to before.

“Hey, I was looking for you…” you say quietly. Too afraid to speak any louder knowing your voice may break if you do so. “I think I will leave now. You can have fun and stay back. I don’t feel so good anyway!” You say in a rushed tone as you turn on your heels and walk away from there.

You expected Changmin to come after you, too, maybe drop you off or something but when you did not feel any presence behind you, you lost all hope.

Exiting the club, you remove your heels and hold them in your hands as you sit down on the footpath, too heartbroken to even think about looking for a ride back home.

Looking up at the night sky, you stare at the moon shining its light down on you brightly.

Sniffing you bite back your tears as the previous scene keeps on playing back in your mind. You knew you were gonna lose him, it was obvious, but you did not want to let him go.

Flashback ends

—x—

“Miss, I think it’s enough for now. You’re drunk, and we need to close. Could you please call someone who could pick you up?” You hear the bartender say to you. Looking up at him you nod your head and stand up from your chair.

Stumbling on your way to the exit, your hands hover above his contact name. Despite all the things he has done, why is it that he’s the first person you could think of in this situation? Why is it that your fingers subconsciously clicks on his contact name as you wait for him to pick up?

“Hello?” You heard Changmin’s voice beam through the other line. Heaving out a sigh you sit down on the very footpath you were on when you encountered Changmin with the girl that day.

“Could you pick me up?” You slur out. From the way you were speaking, Changmin caught onto the fact that you were drunk.

“Where are you?” You hear him ask while telling him the name of the club you hang up on him before he could reply back.

Staring down at your empty hands, your mind drifts back to the time when you started noticing Changmin distancing himself from you.

The way he would always space out while you were talking, the numerous times he reached home late with the smell of a different perfume on his clothes.

—x—

Flashback

It was a day everyone was eager for; you guys were gonna graduate. A new era and a chapter were about to begin tomorrow.

You were more than excited for this day; you graduated from university with flying colours, you already applied for different jobs which you were sure you would enjoy, but most of all, you were happy that you were able to share this moment with Changmin.

You knew he was happy about graduating, but there was something else on his mind.

Approaching you with Juyeon beside him, he stood right beside you while he held onto your waist as he told Juyeon to click a picture of you both together.

Looking up at his face you noticed the difference in them, he was not smiling like usual.

You wanted to push him away, yell at him, ask him why everything changed between you two.

You wanted to scream at him and ask ‘Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me? Why were you thinking about her when I was right there with you? Did you imagine her face when we would kiss?’ You had so many questions, but all of them were left unanswered.

Flashback ends

—x—

“Y/N…” you heard a voice call out your name. Looking up, you saw Changmin getting out of his car as he walked towards you.

Standing in front of you he gently pulled you up as he supported you so you could walk towards his car.

Opening the passenger door, he gently pushed you inside, making sure you were secured by the seat belt.

Hiding your face in your hands, you could feel your tears escaping your eyes, your body shaking with each sob.

“Y/N? What…what happened?” You heard Changmin ask from beside you. Placing his hands on yours, he pulled them down so he could have a better look at your face.

“Everything…everything is wrong…” you sob out, your voice cracking at the end.

“What do you mean?” He asks softly as he wipes your tears away. Pushing his hand away harshly, you look away from him, staring out the window you look out the window.

If the circumstances were different, you would have loved being out with him like this; kissing him in the car underneath the moonlight was something you always enjoyed when you were with him, but who knows he might be doing this with someone else too.

“Why would you do this to me?” You ask softly as you turn your attention back to him.

“I don’t get it…” he says softly as his face displays nothing but confusion.

“Why can’t I be the only one in your life? Why did you have to cheat on me? Why?” You sob out as you hit his chest multiple times with your fist.

“I…I am sorry.” Was all he said as he gripped your hands in his, stopping you from hitting him. His hold was still gentle, but his gaze wasn’t. It did not hold the same love in them like it used to and it pained you more knowing you were not the girl in his heart anymore.

“Were you thinking about her with your hand on my waist? Were you thinking about her face whenever we kissed? Was her name in your mind even when I was with you?” You question him, letting out your feelings and not having the strength to keep them in anymore.

Sighing, Changmin let your hands go as he looked ahead of him; nodding his head he could hear your sob escape.

“I hate the fact that you’re not there with me when I wake up...I hate the fact that you would run out for her, even if it’s the middle of the night. I still think about our very first kiss, but it pains me knowing it’s not the same for you.” You ramble out.

“I am sorry…” was all he said again.

“You know what’s more funny? I feel lonely even when you’re with me because it feels like you’re never around anymore. I would rather be alone than feel lonely…” you say with frustration as you move your hair out of your face. Chucking you rest your head on the seat to try to calm yourself down, “You know it’s funny how you’re gonna leave me now that I am in love with you. Can I do that to my problems too? Will they leave me if I fall in love with them? Because I don’t think I have the energy nor the strength to do anything.” You say as a tear slips down your eyes onto your cheeks.

“Don’t say that, please…” he says as he tries to grab your hand, only for you to push it away.

“Did you even give a fuck about me, Ji Changmin? Was this all just a game for you?” You say as harshly wipe your tears.

“No, I did love you, but…but she’s different, Y/N. I feel more free around her…” he says, his voice coming out small.

“So you’re saying I tied you down?” You ask with hurt visible in your eyes.

“No!” He screams in panic.

“Well, that’s what you implied!” You scream back at him.

You spare him one last look as you grip onto your bag, “Let’s break up…I cannot do this anymore.” You say as you open the door and leave the car.

Sipping on your coffee as you look out the window, it has been three months since your break up with Changmin.

You did everything you could to move on from him, you jumped from one guy to another but that did nothing since your mind seemingly drifts off to Changmin at the end of the day.

To stop that you even tried going to clubs to get wasted but what you did notice was the fact that you would come back home drunk and cry yourself to sleep while thinking about Changmin only to wake up with a severe headache and a hangover the next day.

You stopped looking after yourself; you did not even eat properly and drowned yourself in work which was not a good decision because you ended up fainting from fatigue.

As of now, you were still on the path of moving on from Changmin but in a more healthy and positive way.

Maybe what you were looking for right now wasn’t a relationship or a partner; you did not want your new relationship to end like your previous one.

You did not want to feel lonely despite having a partner, you would rather choose to be alone than to feel lonely and let yourself get insecure.

Maybe being in a relationship at the moment wasn’t the right timing for now, maybe in the future you would be happier than you are now.

Now you know that loving one’s self comes before loving another, because would it be fair if you gave all your love to your partner, then leaving nothing to yourself? All you knew was that before you got into another relationship you should love yourself first because what you learned from your relationship with Changmin was that there’s no point in being together with someone if you did not love yourself enough.

Taglist: @cloverdaisies @kimsohn @mosviqu @i520cm @deoboyznet

[wfanfic56]

Pathetic? | Price x Reader

He was nervous, angry, you could see it through his walk around the secret base. Boys got silent, they don't want to go between them, even Nikolai didn't make any jokes. Laswell and Price got into fight...

You were watching them for almost an hour. His veins on his neck are visible, he's pissed off. They were arguing about Shadows, about Shepard, about Makarov... He wanted to find them, and Laswell didn't want him to get killed, the usual scene in the base these few days while you're there.

"How long is this gonna take?" Gaz asked whispering. -"I don't know mate" said Ghost. Gaz turned to you, begging with his eyes. "Y/N... Do something, please."

"Okay you two, knock it off." They didn't even noticed that you said something. "HEY OLD FARTS!!" they turned around "Knock it off!! You've been on each others throat, whole morning!"

You stood up from the couch and walked by them, to get yourself a cup of tea, but he grabbed you for your wrist, his frown says it all. "What did you say, Sergeant? How did you just call me?"

"You heard it very well." You smile, provoking him. -"You smile too much L/N, it makes you look stupid."

Imitates his accent "And you're too serious, eh? It makes you look pathetic!"

Price looks at you, his frown disappears and his grip loosen."That's what you think of me?" asks you curiously, his voice quiet.

"That's how you look these past few days. You don't think of consequences, you're putting in danger your whole team because of some general who betrayed us. We can get him, but we need you as our leader, not as a man eager for revenge."

The team looks at you two, tension is clearly there between you two. He frowns again, his voice is raspy "You and I are gonna talk, right now! Get in that room!!"

"John, don-" –"Don't you dare say another word, Laswell!"

"What the hell just happened?" - Soap

Price slams the door, and locks it. He slammed you against the wall and started kissing your neck, his hands working on taking off your clothes "I have a really smart girl, it took me just a minute to realise what you wanted."

He turns you around to face the wall, he slides his cock deep inside of you, his one hand is on your mouth, while the other holds your hands tightly behind your back.

"I'm pathetic, huh? You call my life pathetic? Well guess what darlin' – you're in my life too." He got all red in face, your moans drives him crazy. He started thrusting roughly into you, he groans with every thrust. "And when we get home, I won't let you rest whole week. I'll be like an animal, and I'll make you scream my name until you get pregnant. And after 9 months, you'll give a birth to a beautiful girl."

He felt your walls tighten, and he pulls himself out, your eyes teary from the pleasure he gave you. "I will tease you every day like this, you will beg for me, until we come home. Then I'll make you my wife, and we will get retired and you will stick with me in my pathetic life forever." He whispers in your ear, while he dresses himself up.

"And next time, I won't lead you to another room, I will fuck you in front of everyone." You nodded, your legs shaking.. "Good girl."

[sunflowergirl522]

Great Friends

Pairing: Hobie Brown x spiderperson!Reader

Summary: You and Hobie meet

Word Count: 1415

One use of Y/N I barely write in his accent again. Let me know if you want more Hobie and Honeybee

Hobie Masterlist

“The portal should drop you off in the sewer systems. Your teammate for this one will meet you there.” Jess explains through Hobie’s watch as she sends the coordinates through.

“Why am I goin’ in the damn sewers?” 

“Because that’s where the anomaly is. Miguel and I would take care of it if it weren’t for one of the Kravens somehow getting out here. Just go and take care of it, Hobie.” She hangs up then leaving his watch to blink with the awaiting coordinates.

“Why did I agree to this stupid club?” Hobie mutters to himself before opening up the portal and stepping through it. He immediately plugs his nose at the strong smell of his new surroundings not even wanting to think of the residue from the walls he’ll have to clean off his boots. “Bloody hell, what kind of villain wants to have his lair ‘ere?” He’s heard stories of course from other spider people of chasing a Lizard variant into a sewer but never thought he’d be getting thrown straight into one.

He follows the animal-like noises and rats through the tunnels to find an open area with a giant rat man monster in the middle of it. The rats surround him and follow his movements like a commune.

“The hell am I looking at mate?” Hobie’s question gets the creature's attention and it turns its whole body to look at him.

“Who…are you?” It grumbles out. “Where am…I?” He glitches after speaking.

“Not your universe, you make this easy and we’ll both be back home ‘fore you know it.” He takes a step toward the creature who lets out a growl feeling threatened and before Hobie knows it rats are swarming him. He cusses under his breath as he jumps to stand on the ceiling and shoot a web at the monster wondering where the hell his partner is.

“Sorry I’m late to the party!” Your voice rings out and echoes off the walls a bit as you make your appearance. “Hey there Vermin, you’re a long way from home aren’t you?”

“Honeybee.” Vermin growls before lunging for you.

“Ah ah, that’s no way to treat the person trying to get you home is it?” You playfully scold him as you dodge, your wings fluttering behind you keeping you in the air. Hobie chuckles at your words while staying crouched there watching you fly about dodging Vermin's attacks. Hobie’s eyes are transfixed on the wings jutting out from your back wondering if they’re real or part of your suit. He hasn’t seen a Spiderperson with wings before.

Your costume fits the name Vermin had called you, the body of your suit is black with your sleeves being yellow with the exception of the palms of your hands and your legs are adorned with black and yellow stripes until the solid black from your knee down as if you had boots on. Your black mask doesn’t cover your whole face, leaving your mouth to show.

“C’mon Verm, don’t make this hard. I was in the middle of baking when I got the call to come get you.” You land on solid ground and when he goes to throw a punch you let the stinger in your right arm free, slicing through his arm as you dodge. “You gonna help at all Spider, or are you gonna make me do all the work?” 

“On it.” Hobie swings over, landing a blow to Vermin's head with his guitar. “You supposed to be some sort of pixie or somethin?” He asks as he lands next to you and takes in the very real wings sticking out of your back.

“Cute, but no.” The two of you dodge another blow leaving Vermin’s fist to go straight into the wall. “Excuse me Verm, we’re trying to have a conversation.” You shoot what looks like honey onto his face causing him to stumble back trying to get it off. You’re back in the air behind him in no time. “You like my new trick, Vermin? Got the idea from my fellow spiders. Now let’s get you home yeah?” You toss the electric cage device underneath him as he starts to glitch again. “You’ll be back in your own sewer soon enough.” Hobie opens a portal back to headquarters while you flit around Vermin in his part time prison making sure he’s secure.

“Hobie Brown, Earth-138.” He holds his hand out as you land next to him again.

“Y/n Y/l/n, Earth-1203.” You shake his hand and smile, keeping your voice low enough that Vermin can’t hear. And Hobie notices the small fangs between your teeth. “You wanna swing him through with your webs or should we push?”

“So, you a spider person? Because you don’t look like one.” Hobie asks after the two of you follow the anomaly through the portal.

“Yes and no.” You wait for Margo to give you a thumbs up that Vermin is all situated before turning and start to leave the ‘cargo area’ as you liked to call it and motion with your head for Hobie to follow. “I’m the spider person of my universe but I’m not a Spider Woman variant or anything, I’m just me.”

“What’s your story?”

“It’s similar to almost everyone else's here. I was interning at Alchemax helping bioengineer plants that grew at an extremely rapid rate when I was stung by one of the bees they were trying to modify to help with the pollination. Next thing I know I’m waking up in the morning with wings, fangs and these cool ass retractable stingers.” As you mention them you let them out of your forearms to show them off. “They’re super similar to Kaine’s, if you know him. Anyway, I’ve been the one and only Honeybee in my universe for the last almost three years. What’s yours?”

“Homeless teen turned Spiderman from a spider bite.” Hobie shoves his hands into his vest pockets and sniffs. “Not much else to it.”

“Well I like your costume, it’s pretty cool.”

“Are the two of you done chatting?” Miguel asks as the two of you approach him. “You have a mission to debrief.”

“What’s there to debrief? We got him and I brought him here instead of home like I could’ve.” You cross your arms across your chest in an annoyed stance as you speak. When you found out you were going after your Vermin you had argued with Miguel over even bringing him back to headquarters when you could easily shove him in a portal back to your own universe. It’s why you were late.

“Fine, just get out of here. I don’t want to deal with either of you.”

“Wanna get food at the cafeteria?” You ask Hobie as you turn to leave.

“What’s the deal with the tension between you and boss man?” Hobie asks as he spreads out in the plastic cafeteria chair across from where you set your side of fries down.

“Well for one I refuse to just take his shit like everyone else seems to. And for two,” you hold up two fingers with one hand while the other peels off your mask revealing two big space buns along with the rest of your face, “he doesn’t believe me to be a ‘spiderman variant’ even though I have similar canon events and there’s no such thing as spiderman in my universe. Jess was the one who recruited me and all Miguel wanted to do when he first met me was send me home. Which as you can see didn’t work out.” Hobie follows your lead and takes his own mask off before leaning forward and stealing a fry. “What about you?”

“I don’t care what he thinks and he hates it.” 

“It’s so nice to meet someone around here who also won’t let Miguel walk all over them. I like all your piercings by the way. I always wanted to get my septum pierced but, well, I’m not sure why I never did.”

“You like to talk, don’t ya?” You shrug.

“I don’t get out a lot back at home so when I find someone here who’s willing to let me I talk their ear off. You don’t seem to talk much.”

“I do ‘ere and there. I like listening when the person's worth listening to.” 

“Am I?” He nods, you definitely are, he finds your voice very soothing to listen to. “Then I think we’ll be great friends, Hobie.”

Hobie Taglist: @notbeforelong

Marvel Taglist: @lieswithoutfairytales @sugarbutterbailey @1-800-ch3rry @neenieweenie @fluffy-bnny @bunnyweasley23 @chaoticevilbakugo @trikigirl271 @chxosunbound @bigpoppajes @alienoutlet @mazerunnerrose @20fandomfangirl @goldylions @literally-a-ferret @angelgirl45367 @supraveng

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson​ @bubsonnobx​ @practicalghost​ @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts

Join a Taglist

[onevolon]

smile for the camera

Jack Mojave X F!reader

note: you take a picture you shouldn't have.

word count: 731

warnings: dark. angst. it's not in a desert but a forest. honestly idk what this is supposed to be lol

you can also read it on ao3.

masterlist

This was a journey from the start. Sure, it wasn’t the first time she witnessed someone being left at the altar. Crazier things happened at the weddings. It makes her wonder what made them finally snap and run away every time. Especially these two looked so in lovey-dovey. But now the groom is nowhere to be seen. Weird.

One thing that is more annoying than a bride bawling her eyes out though, when the wedding is canceled, nobody cares about what will happen to the employees or what they should do. Everybody is own their own.  

And that’s why now she is middle of the nowhere in a fucking forest with all of my camera equipment trying to find her way to her car. Environmentalist piece of shits forced everybody to park miles away from the wedding location to not disturb the ecosystem more than necessary blah blah…

If she wasn’t so fucking lost, she might have appreciated the sounds of the birds chirping, the smell of the pine tree and the wind on her hair. But right now, it was extremely irritating to say the least. The smell made her stomach turn after the food she inhaled before they can take it. The wind was making her shiver to her very bones and… Maybe she should distract herself by looking at the photos.

She starts to scroll through the photos. Look all those happy faces… Now it’s all for nothing.

Okay this doesn’t really work.

She could try and take a couple of photos of the damn birds for her portfolio.

Carefully walking around the bushes, she tries to allocate the said animals. It is soothing to hear this rhythmic sound of these creatures and…

Something else was there…

Someone was…

…Someone digging something?

Yeah, there was a figure to her left with a shovel. What in the hell…

Stupidly, she gets closer while continuously pushing the button on her camera.

A man with a long coat… in a cowboy hat. Long hair… Dirty skin. You didn’t recognize him from the wedding. Who the hell-

“Well, hello there.”

She freezes.

“Wanted to see something cool, sister?” he says innocently.

She can’t move a muscle. Not even talk.

“Not a talker, huh. You would get along with him, then.” He says and point to the ground.

She instinctively follows his gesture.

There is a man.

On the ground.

Not moving.

Is he-

“Wanna join him, doll-face?”

You can’t look away. Not only because you’re both in danger but… he looks… familiar.

“I bet he would like that, now wouldn’t you, perv?” he nudges the man’s head with his boots and the man’s face turns towards her.

Oh, he looks blue.

He’s for sure-

The groom.

He is the groom.

“Was having quite the fun with that little bridesmaid. I was jealous not gonna lie. Wanted to have a good old adventure to myself.”

He killed the groom.

“And now we all are here.” He looked to her, self-satisfied.

Her heart was about to burst.

“Lost, aren’t you?”

“I-“

“Who are you?”

She doesn’t answer.

He casually drops the shovel and pushes the groom to the hole in the ground.

“The great questions, sister, the essentials… Where are you from? Where you going?”

She again doesn’t answer, too occupied to discreetly try and find something to use it as a weapon.

He starts to throw the pile of dirt on top of the man.

“To be or not to be?”

“Huh?” she says, distracted by the sudden topic change.

“Another great question. To be or not to be? It always comes down to that, isn’t it?”

She doesn’t know what to say.

“You choose to be, sister. To be here.”

She shakes her head.

“Oh, yes, yes you did. “ He smirks.

She begins to tremble slightly.

“No? Why don’t you run then? You can run.”

“I can’t move.” She says stupidly.

“Sure you can. In fact, when I count to three, you will flee like you’ve never done before.” He says while patting now closed grave with the shovel, putting some leaves on top of it to cover.

She starts to tear up.

“One…”

A tear drops to her face.

“Two…”

She takes a step back.

“Two and a half…”

Hurriedly puts down her camera and other stuff down.

“Three!”

She sprints.

“Game on, sister! GAME. ON.”

He goes after her.