#he thinks himself too broken in mind and body to be a good husband and father in the future

[thatscarletflycatcher]

If Percival and Nadine was to have a contemporary ya romance name (the typical of non-fantasy, non-myth retelling, non-spec novels, I mean), it would have to be something involving a metaphor of light.

That dark neo-noir radio drama starring David Morrissey (it IS really dark. The lengths I'll go to just hear the interpretative power of his voice. Anyways), called Don't Hold Back the Light keeps coming to mind again and again. The imagery of dawn and sunrise keeps coming to me, in part through the songs I feel fit the story in partial ways (Keane's Bend and Break, Rick Astley's Rise Up, James Blunt's Bonfire Heart, even the melody of Lionel Ritchie's Stuck on You), but also because it feels thematically pertinent.

Both find themselves in night, not only in the despair, and tiredness, and hurt and brokenness, but on the idea that they had their day in the Sun, as life is metaphorically a day, and that it is over, and yet they linger. BUT where they are at the beginning, the idea of a new day sounds scary. And exhausting. There's a sliver of hope deep, deep down, like a candle on a window in a faraway house in the middle of nowhere. But for the most part, they'd like to hold it back if they could. And yet that feels wrong to them.

[roosterforme]

A Formal Reprimand | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Above all else, Jake prided himself on his spotless Naval record. When his wife inadvertently causes him to be formally reprimanded during a deployment, he plans to give her a fair share of the punishment when he gets home.

Warnings: Fluffy smutty fun

Length: 3000

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

You clung to Jake's body, your eyes welling up as you held onto him. He kissed your beautiful lips one last time, swiping away your tears. He should have probably already been aboard the USS Nimitz, but he just couldn't seem to pull himself away. 

"I'll miss you." Your broken sob had his heart aching as he held you tight. Everyone bustling around the dock just knocked the two of you closer together, but he didn't mind that one bit. 

"I'll miss you more, Darlin'," he promised. "It's just two months. You'll hardly notice I'm gone." 

His crooked smile made you smile and laugh through your tears. "I think I might notice that my sexy husband isn't around," you told him, wiping your eyes on the collar of his uniform. "But two months isn't so bad." Your voice was soft and so familiar, and Jake took a moment to close his eyes and memorize it. Because falling asleep without your voice in his ear would be the hardest part about being away from you.

"Seresin!" 

Jake sighed. "I need to go now, before I get a reprimand." He kissed you softly and whispered, "I love you so much." And then he was finally tearing himself away from you, turning back to watch you crying and waving. It was just two months this time, but it still hurt him to leave.

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

It was so bad. Jake did almost nothing except look forward to the moments when he could talk to you. But even the rushed facetime calls just made him miss you more. You held up the dog to wave at him and told him about work. You looked like you were doing just fine, and Jake pretended he was, too. 

But at the end of each call, he'd lean in closer to the screen and ask you to say something that he could think about before he went to bed. Sometimes your response was sweet. Sometimes it was decidedly dirty. But he always loved watching your lips as you responded. 

A few weeks in, he was talking to you, and you looked so good, Jake felt himself stirring a bit. "You gonna tell me something I can think about before bed, Darlin'?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as he leaned in closer. He figured he was probably drooling, but it didn't matter. You weren't wearing a bra, and when your peaked nipples came into view, you whispered, "If I were with you, I would have your cock in my mouth right now. And I'd let you cum all over my face, just the way you like to."

You were running your fingers along your tits, and Jake was throbbing for you. 'Darlin'," he grunted, "I'm gonna need that kind of special treatment when I get home."

"Anything you want. I hope you've been enjoying those polaroids I tucked into your bag."

"Almost every day," he promised, and you blew him a kiss.

When the call ended, Jake hustled awkwardly back to his bunk, praying that Fanboy was still at dinner or the gym. Empty. Perfect. He quickly locked the door and unzipped his pants while he reached for the collection of polaroids he had hidden with his clean laundry. 

And there you were, with his cock in your mouth during an anniversary trip to Bora Bora. And again with his cock buried in your pussy. And another one with your hands on your tits. He spread the photos out on his bed and wrapped his hand around his length. 

"Fuck," he groaned, focusing on a photo of you using a pink toy on yourself that he had taken a few months ago. Those gorgeous tits and your perfect face on display. He jerked himself off a little faster, thinking about your voice and your warm hands. He was so close, so fucking close. Jake reached for a handkerchief and finished in it, panting as he thought of the way you'd be giggling as he blew his load onto your face. 

He missed you so much. Missed everything about you. As he zipped up his pants, he wondered when he'd be able to call you again. And then he heard a key in the door, followed by Fanboy's voice, and Jake started to panic. He scooped up the polaroids and looked around.

"Shit," he gasped, shoving them between the pages of the murder mystery paperback he'd brought with him to read when he got bored. He tossed the book back onto the small nightstand just as his bunkmate came bounding into the room.

"Hangman!" Mickey greeted him. "Get changed. Let's hit the gym."

Jake swallowed hard and tried not to look as suspicious as he felt. "Sure," he agreed, turning to his dresser before his friend could see that his pants were still unbuttoned. He pulled out some gym clothes, and a few minutes later, he and Fanboy were on their way to workout. 

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

A week later, Jake had completed a strenuous mission, and he was exhausted. But by the time he returned from the showers, ready to crawl into his bed, Fanboy was already sound asleep and snoring. Loudly. Jake groaned and grabbed that book he never got a chance to start. The lounge would probably be deserted right now, and maybe, if it was empty, he could sleep a little while in there. 

It seemed like he passed every single admiral aboard the aircraft carrier on his way, and he stopped to appropriately address each of them. When the lounge was in sight, Jake turned just in time to smack directly into Admiral Simpson. He watched in horror as his paperback went flying out of his hand, and as the pages separated in midair, Jake's brain short circuited. In a fraction of a second, he recalled what was depicted in each one of the eight polaroid photos he had forgotten were tucked in there. And then he got to watch as each one came loose from the book and sailed through the air.

He could actually see the photo of you bent over the kitchen counter in nothing but his dog tags as it soared past Cyclone's head. "Fuck!" Jake shouted, eyes wide as he raked his fingers through his hair in a state of extreme panic. He lunged for the closest photo, but Cyclone's boot came down on it before he could do anything about it.

"Lieutenant Seresin. You will not use that foul language in my presence. Do you understand."

"Yes sir, Admiral Simpson," he managed to choke out, standing at full attention. But Jake's eyes were scanning the floor, trying to locate the other seven polaroids. If he could just get them before Cyclone or anyone else actually looked at them...

But it was too late. He watched as Admiral Simpson moved his boot and bent to pick up that goddamn filthy looking photo.

"Explain this, please," Cyclone demanded, holding it up.

"Sir," Jake began, blood rushing from his face. "I...."

"Is this pornography?"

Jake took a deep breath and shook his head as he said, "It's not porn! It's my wife! Sir."

With absolutely no expression on his face, Cyclone held out the photo for Jake to take. "Pick them up. I never want to see them again. And meet me in my office at 0700."

"Yes, sir," Jake ground out, and as soon as he walked away, Jake was crawling around on the floor, making sure he located each and every beautiful photo. He tucked them back into his book, silently thankful that none of his masterbatory materials had been confiscated or seen by anyone else. It was bad enough his commanding officer got to see your ass and tits. And now, as he headed back to his bunk, the apprehension set in. He didn't know what to expect at seven in the morning.

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

Cyclone was still pissed. Jake made sure his uniform was spotless without any creases. Every single pin was straight. There was not a hair out of place on his head. But Simpson still scrutinized every part of him. 

Then he surprised Jake. "I know what it's like to be away from your spouse, Lieutenant. I know how...challenging that can be. However, you will not be caught with that kind of material again. Or your formal reprimand will turn into a potential discharge."

A formal reprimand. Jake didn't have so much as a tardy note on his flawless record. Until now. "Yes, sir," he agreed, picturing the photos all wrapped up in an oversized envelope and tucked away in his duffle bag. Whatever his punishment was going to be, it was not good. 

"Lieutenant, you'll give me three hundred pushups every morning while I drink my coffee on deck for the remainder of your deployment. And once we are back at Top Gun, that will continue in lieu of your lunch breaks. For a month."

"Yes, sir," Jake responded, shoulders squared.

"We'll start today," Admiral Simpson replied, and Jake followed him out onto the deck. The sunlight was bright, and he would have rather been dressed in anything other than his khaki uniform, but Jake did three hundred pushups while everyone working on deck watched. He did them while Cyclone sipped his mug of coffee. He did them while counting them off for himself. And he didn't complain. There was no time for him to change before his meeting, so then he got to sit in his own sweat for a few hours. 

This went on for eighteen more days. By the end of his deployment, everyone knew Jake had been reprimanded. Everyone enjoyed the chance to watch his morning pushups and give him a hard time afterwards. But nobody knew how he had earned them. Not even Fanboy.

In fact, there was only one person who Jake would allow to know the truth, and he planned on making sure his wife took a little bit of the blame. And maybe a bit of her own punishment as well.

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

One more hour. Just an hour and Jake would be back. You were already waiting at the dock, hopelessly desperate to see your sweet husband. "Jake!" you shouted his name, jumping up and down and trying to fight through the crowd to get to him as soon as you saw him. 

Oh, he looked so good, and when you finally reached him, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Jake, I missed you so much," you whispered against his lips, dragging your fingers up through his hair and then down his arms. "You're huge! How much were you working out?"

He wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and you moaned for him. Right there on the dock. You whined his name as he held you in place. "Darlin'," he drawled, his big, thick fingers wrapping around your neck until you had to squeeze your thighs together. "I'm a little sore from all the push-ups."

"Push-ups?" you asked, reaching for him again, but his hand was firm on your neck. "Jake?" you whispered. "Please, let's go home. I need you."

But he just shook his head, kissed your forehead once and said, "You need to be punished. That's what you need, Darlin'. Now let's get you home and get started on that."

"Punished?" you asked, but he didn't say another word. He guided you through the crowd, his hand slipping down to spank your butt through your dress before he squeezed you. 

"Yes," he replied, and once he got his bag and both of you settled in his truck and started the engine, he smirked at you. "You really loved the idea of me jerking off to those polaroids, didn't you, Darlin'?"

You moaned and ran your hands along your bare thighs as he drove toward home. "Yes. Did you love looking at them?"

"Oh, I sure did. But do you know who did not love looking at them?"

Your eyes went wide and you turned to look at him. "Who? Someone else saw them?"

Jake laughed sardonically as he glanced at you. Your head was swirling with embarrassment, but nothing prepared you for when he said, "Admiral Simpson caught me with them."

You gasped. "Your boss saw them?"

"He sure did, Darlin'. And he gave me a formal reprimand. On my perfect record."

"Jake," you whispered, your brain supplying a million questions. He prided himself on his perfect record, fifteen years in the making. He also prided himself on his relationships with his commanding officers. "How many pushups did you have to do?"

"Thousands."

"Oh shit. And it's going on your permanent record? Will you have more punishments when you go to work on Monday? What else happened? How did he see the photos?"

Jake pulled into the driveway and parked his truck. Then he unbuckled both his seatbelt and yours before reaching for you a little roughly. "You know what? I don't think I'm going to answer any of your questions until you share a little bit of my punishment. After all, you're the one who sent me away with the polaroids." 

"Jake," you gasped as he squeezed your thighs and kissed you hard. He climbed out of the truck with you clinging to him. "I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't know you'd get in trouble."

"Hmmm," he hummed, setting you down as he dug out his house key and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and followed you inside, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "Seems like I remember you telling me how you'd love to suck my cock."

Your moan was loud and needy, and when you glanced down, you could see that your husband was hard in his uniform pants. "Let me do it," you begged. "Let me give you a blowjob."

He grasped your chin in his hand and forced your gaze back up to his green eyes. "You will," he promised, and you had to bite your lip to keep the pathetic little noises you wanted to make at bay. He kissed your forehead and added, "Just exactly the way I want it. Every day until my punishment has been lifted."

He pulled you closer still grasping your chin as you softly asked, "How do you want it?"

"Rough," he replied, and you whimpered as he guided you to the floor in front of him. "I want it rough, Darlin'. Think you can handle that?"

You were already unzipping his pants as you looked up at him. "Of course. But Jake... is it really a punishment if I want it so fucking badly?" you asked, dipping your hand inside his underwear and pulling him free. He was huge and hard and you had missed your husband so much. And you knew he'd take you to bed and give you whatever you wanted after you got to do this for him. 

"You want it rough?" he asked, green eyes focused on your lips as you parted them and took his cock. When you nodded, sucking on his thick length, he grunted. He wrapped one hand around your neck and the other around the back of your head. "You feel so good. I'll make it rough for you."

And then with one smooth thrust, your hands were grabbing at his thighs as he hit the back of your throat. You sucked in a breath through your nose, and Jake stroked your neck with his thumb as you gagged. "Fuck," he gasped, pulling himself out until you were left licking and sucking on the tip, and then he rammed himself deep again.

You were trying to say his name as you gagged. Tears filled your eyes and saliva dripped down to your chest and the front of your dress. But your husband told you that you were such a good wife, the only one he wanted, and then he went a little faster.

"Jake," you gasped, taking a deep breath when he withdrew. But he used his big palm at the back of your head to push himself deep once again. He was groaning, and when you cupped his balls with your right hand, he went even faster. Quick little strokes gagged you, and the wet sounds were making you clench around nothing. 

"A formal reprimand," he growled, and you took him the whole way and held him there as he licked his lips, and whispered, "Fuck, Darlin'." He gave you no warning. You gagged on his hot cum as he filled your throat. You tried to swallow him down, but you felt it drip out of the corners of your mouth. And then he withdrew and with a few strokes of his hand, he painted your face with the last of his ejaculate. 

"Oh my god," you groaned, your throat sore and raspy as you wiped his cum from your cheek. But he was already pulling you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your waist as he kissed your neck.

"You okay?" he asked softly. 

"Yes," you promised, licking your lips clean. "I loved that."

He groaned next to your ear. "I knew you would. I knew it wouldn't even be a proper punishment."

You wiped your face and licked your fingers clean. "You promised me I'd be getting punished as long as you were. You promised me, Jake."

Your husband kissed your lips and swiped his tongue into your mouth. "You really want to do that every day for the next month?"

"I can't believe you got in so much trouble for the polaroids," you whispered against his lips. "But you're crazy if you think I'm not going to take my own punishment like a champ."

"I love you," he crooned, holding you close. "It's good to be home."

"I missed you. And I'm sorry your photos got confiscated."

Jake chuckled, appraising you with those pretty green eyes. "Oh, I still have them."

"You still have them? But I thought Admiral Simpson-"

He kissed you hard again before he said, "I got off easy, Darlin'. I'd take a hundred formal reprimands as long as I get to keep those polaroids."

You rolled your eyes and took his hands in yours. "We can always make more."

"That's what I'm counting on," he drawled with a smile. "Now go grab the camera like a good girl and meet me in bed."

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

Thanks for reading! I kind of missed writing for Jake! Maybe I'll do this a little more often. Thanks for @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[thehusbandoden]

"Hold me?" -Vulnerable Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

A/n: sorry I've been so quiet! I took a little break from writing, but luckily I'm ready to write for most of the day!

General info:

Genre: fluff/reverse comfort // wc: 523

"Y/n... will you.. hold me?" A small, broken voice aroused you from your slumber.

"Mhmm, c'mere baby.." you mumble, searching around for your husband's familair, muscular arm.

Once your fingers brushed over his bare skin you gently tugged, silently telling him to come to you. Anixety and hesitation instanly melting away, he fell into your comforting embrace, face burried in your chest as he clung onto your shirt, sobs spilling from his lips.

"Shh, it's okay baby. It's okay, I'm here." You mumble, rubbing soothing circles across his back. "I'll always be here for you."

His sobs grew louder as his grip grew tighter, pulling himself against you to seek your loving comfort- to stop feeling so... useless.

"I-I-I-" He tried to piece together, uncontrolable sobs causing his voice to crack.

"Shhh I know baby, I know. I love you too." You whisper, kissing his forehead multiple times before going back to rest your head on his. "So, so much."

After a few minutes his grip became less harsh, finally relaxing into your hold- knowing that you wouldn't leave him.

It took another hour or so for his sobs to lessen, and a few more for him to fall asleep. But you stayed underneath him the entire time, supporting him both verbally and silently. Rubbing his back, kissing his forehead, telling him you loved him, kissing away his tears, telling him that you were xtherex.

Even after he fell asleep you stayed watchful, making sure that he didn't fall into anther nightmare, not minding the lack of sleep one bit. You loved this man, and there is no way that you would leave him feeling unprotected.

~~

8:29 a.m.

~~

You smiled fondly as you watched his pair of crimson eyes blink open, already searching for you the second they opened.

"G'morning baby." You smile, kissing Katsuki's lips tenderly.

"Good morning." He replied, crawling higher up your body to press his nose to your cheek before carefully flopping down onto you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"Did you sleep well?" You whisper, twirling a strand of his blonde hair in your fingers.

"Mhmm.. after you held me." He whispered back, a fiery red blush creeping up his neck at his vulnerability. He shouldn't be acting so weak in front of you- he was supposed to protect you, not the other way around-

"It's okay Suki. I already know what you're thinking- but I promise you, it's okay. You deserve a break too."

"Bu-"

"No buts. Just trust me, okay?"

Nodding, Bakugo lifted himself up to kiss your lips lovingly- a silent thank you for your support.

Smiling, you kiss him back before pulling away, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Do you want me to make break-"

"You, Teddybear, are going to lay here and rest those pretty eyes of yours while I cook, understand?" Bakugo gently scolded, kissing both your eyelids, before pecking your lips and crawling out of bed.

"But you really don't have t-"

"No complaining or else!"

"Or else what?"

"Or else! Now get some rest before I come back there and smother ya!"

~~~~~

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[strongheartneteyam]

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Pairing: Lo'ak Sully x female!human!reader

CW: infidelity, Lo'ak yearning for reader, sexual content, clingy Lo'ak, TRIGGER WARNING for sensitive themes, Lo'ak's cock against reader's thigh, a lot of angst, jealous Lo'ak, heartbroken reader, use of "princess" and "babygirl", mentions of sexual fluids, reader feels like she's not pretty enough after being cheated on, confessions of love, neck kissing and licking, dirty talk, sexual language

Synopsis: Lo'ak fell for you at first sight but you only had eyes for Neteyam, so, when he started having feelings for you too, you became Neteyam's mate. Now things are different, Neteyam is cheating on you but you're pretending you don't have a clue about his rendezvous with the na'vi girl he's seeing behind your back. You are close friends with Lo'ak and he's the only person you told about Neteyam's infidelity and now, Lo'ak just won't let this opportunity go without trying to finally claim you to himself.

So... I think this feels a bit incomplete but I had this idea haunting my mind like crazy until I surrendered and wrote it down lol Tell me what u guys think in the comments 🥲 I love y'all a lot <3

Lo'ak is aged up.

Slighty proofread.

𖤓

My husband's gone, don't need to worry

Take you upstairs to the swan bed

Let you fuck me hard as you can

The next time he kisses me, want him to taste red ruby lips

And the love we made and the lemonade

So come on over and give it to me

Lemonade (Nicole Dollanganger)

𖤓

"Eywa, baby, I've always wanted you... since the first time I saw you, I wanted you, pretty human... But he took from me any chance I had of trying to make you mine. He was faster than I was." Lo'ak talked about Neteyam as he ran his hands through your body and kissed your neck, his big body pressed against yours, clinging to you, so needy, his weight and body heat comforting you, giving you exactly what you needed right now. You were feeling broken, unlovable and not so sexy as you used to feel before. That's what getting cheated on by the man you loved did to you and your self steem.

Lo'ak's melancholic and full of pain cooing filled the air as you felt your heart hurt, feeling that you were doing something so wrong but you still couldn't stop yourself from letting Lo'ak's love cover you finally. You always knew he wanted you, it had always been obvious. He was not very good at hiding his feelings. His whole family - Neteyam included - knew he was in love with you.

But he always respected his older brother and you were Neteyam's mate, he had made you his before Lo'ak could even try to. He understood he couldn't anyway. Lo'ak saw how your eyes shone the first time you saw Neteyam, your shyness not letting you look at him too much so he wouldn't notice your interest while you still didn't know if he was interested in you too. That broke Lo'ak's heart. He already felt like he lived in his brother's shadow in almost everything in his life and now Neteyam was taking the girl he loved from him too. Great.

But when Neteyam cheated on you and left you feeling alone and broken-hearted, Lo'ak knew that was his chance and he would not let it go.

Lo'ak just couldn't believe it when he leaned in sheepishly to kiss you, his hands cold and his heart beating painfully fast, and you kissed him back eagerly instead of pushing him away.

Now you were under him.

"Now I can finally touch you, baby... Be with you, fuck you... I can't believe it, princess... I want you so much... " You could feel his cock against your thigh, so deliciously big, thick and hard as a rock too. "You never belonged with him. You always belonged with me, baby. And I'm gonna make you mine now if you let me, babygirl... make you mine forever. I need you so much. I love you so much. I can be better than him. I can fuck you better than he used to."

He was making you so wet. You were feeling needed again. And you wanted him too. He was so hot, his body so toned and beautiful. He wasn't as tall as Neteyam but you didn't mind because, as you were human, he still towered over you like crazy. You had always felt attracted to him and now there was nothing pulling you away from him. Neteyam had broken any vows of love and fidelity you had ever made to each other. You wanted Lo'ak and you were gonna let him have you all the way. He was making you feel alive again and you knew he loved you.

"Five fingers, not four. You're perfect for me. And I'm perfect for you." Lo'ak moaned these words for you as he intertwined his big, slender fingers with your tiny in comparison ones "My perfect human mate. You don't think bad of me for not being fully na'vi like they do." He licked your neck and slightly bit the skin there, his fangs making you feel a rush of an indescribably good feeling coming through your whole being.

•

Taglist:

@yeosxxx

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (10)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: sexy mobsters, fluff, voyeurism, established Stucky, reverse cowgirl, grinding, groping, breeding kink, a lil angst, bitchy ex, smut, unprotected sex

Indecent Proposal (9.2)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“See, the little getaway with our pretty doll was a great idea,” Bucky purrs while running his hand up and down his cock. He doesn’t care about the luxurious ambiance of the cabin they bought, only for you. His eyes are glued to you and his husband.

Steve is sitting on one of the comfortable armchairs and watches you move backward to sit in his lap. “Lift your cute ass again, baby. I’m gonna give you what you are craving.”

Bucky watches you slowly sink on his husband’s cock. “Slow, sweetness,” Steve helps you steady your body. You want to try something new with the blonde, so you take your righteous place on the throne he offers. “Good girl, now open up for me.”

You lean back against his chest and allow Steve to guide you down on his cock. He groans in your ear, almost sounding desperate as you eagerly roll your hips to test the best position. 

“Fuck, he’s so big, Bucky,” you look the brunette straight in the eyes while his husband cups your tits to play with your nipples.

“Do you want a cowboy hat too,” Bucky mirrors your smirk. “You look so pretty on top of Stevie.” He drops his eyes to your cunt. “Even better stuffed with his cock.”

“She’s a good girl,” Steve gives you a few shallow thrusts. “Right, doll? You are so good for me and Bucky.” The blonde moves one hand between your legs to pinch your clit. “I asked you a question!”

“YES!” you breathlessly reply. You’re already on the edge and can’t wait to feel Steve fill you up too. On your flight to your secret cabin, you already sucked him off while his husband ate your cunt until you came all over his face.

Now you start bouncing up and down, while his husband pleasures himself. Bucky groans and grunts, urging you on to move faster, and give his husband what he’s craving.

“I bet her womb will welcome your spunk too, Stevie. She will have all of our babies and look so pretty when I suck milk from her tits.”

You can feel Steve’s cock throb inside of you. He’s close to losing it only from the way you grind back and forth. “Shit, stop talking like that, Buck. I could cum right now and fill her up.”

“Do it,” you whine. “Please. I don’t care if I cum. I only want to feel you use my cunt and breed it. Give me your seed. Make me yours.”

“Oh, fuck taking it slow,” Steve growls. He lifts you off his lap and stands up to push you onto the bed. You end up bending over, Steve behind you. “Have my cock, whore.”

He slips back inside and immediately grips your hips. Steve loses all control. He slams into you without holding back. “Harder,” you gasp and moan. “Cum inside of me. Fuck me until I cry. Break me!”

“Stevie…doll!” Bucky makes an odd noise. His cum hits Steve’s back and ass, but the blonde doesn’t stop. 

He pins you to the mattress with his weight and starts battering your cunt. Steve is rutting into you deep, and slow. 

He growls in your ear, whispering all the filthy thoughts swirling in his mind. “You’re my whore. Mine. I’ll give you a baby. No one will take you away from us. This cunt is ours. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you can only take his punishing thrusts and give up control. All the softness is gone. This is primal fucking, and the need to get bred, and to breed. “I’m yours…”

“Of course you are ours,” Bucky slaps his husband’s ass. “Fuck her harder. I want to see her broken and filled with cum. Maybe I’ll give her a load later too.”

They are talking about you as if you aren’t even there with them, but all you can think about is that you want this more than anything. Giving up control, and letting these men give you what you have been craving for so long.

“Fuck,” you fist the sheets. “I want to feel it.” Steve groans into your ear feeling your cunt tighten around him. “Now.”

“Shit…doll…” He cums with a shout of your name and collapses on top of you. For a moment you both don’t move. Steve nuzzles his face in your neck while you lie on the bed, a little shell-shocked at your change of mind.

Weeks ago you were afraid of them and wanted to run for the hills. Now you willingly let them fill you up. 

“So pretty when you cum,” Bucky pats your head. “Did he make you feel good, baby doll? I bet he did.”

“Yeah…” You weakly reply. “So good…”

“I think she needs a break,” Steve slowly pulls out of you. “Damn, she looks good filled with cum.”

He gets up to look at your abused cunt. “Give me my phone, baby. I wanna take a picture.”

“You perv,” Bucky throws the phone at Steve. “I want a close-up.”

“Who’s the perv here,” Steve snaps a few pictures while his husband kneels on the bed to knead your ass. “Give her a break, Buck.”

“Break…and food…” You are almost asleep when you feel like you are floating on air. One of them picked you up to carry you inside the bathroom while the other prepared a warm bath for you, and them.

“Good thing I wanted the biggest bathtub I could get,” Bucky smirks at his husband. “Now we can all have a bathtub party.”

“So, what are we doing here?” You look around the deserted store. “I thought we got everything we’ll need at the cabin.”

“We wanted to grab a few more things,” Bucky wraps his arm around your shoulders while his husband busies himself with the wine. “Steve, we’ve got more than enough wine. Let’s get this over with. I want to go home and chase you around the bedroom until you give up and let me fuck your sweet peach.”

“Buck, not here,” Steve grunts. “I want to get more wine and food. You never know if there will be more snow.”

“Oh yeah, wine and white chocolate will save us,” the brunette snorts. “Do you want to have a look at their more interesting stuff? I saw chocolate flavored lubed over there.”

“Bucky,” you grunt. “Not here.”

“You are both so boring in public. I bet,” Bucky licks his lips, “you would let me fuck you right here, next to the shelf with chocolate. A sweet sin next to sweet things.”

“Buck, behave. We have time to get naughty when we are back at the cabin,” Steve tuts. He can be such a prude in public and the kinkiest man in the bedroom. “We got everything. Doll, do you need anything?”

“Uh-for how long are we going to stay here?” You quirk a brow. “I need lady toiletries if we stay for longer.”

“Soon you won’t need them,” Bucky pecks your cheek. “Go ahead and get all you need. I’ll grab the good stuff while Steve gets more wine.”

You aimlessly walk through the store. Steve and Bucky never stray too far. You can hear them chat about wine and food. 

They look like a normal, almost domestic pair to anyone but you. You’re the only person at the store knowing about their profession.

“If that ain’t the new toy,” a woman snarls as you are about to have a look at the ice cream. “What’s your name, sugartits?”

“What?” You blink a few times. The woman seems to talk to you, but you have no clue what she wants. 

“You heard me! Did they promise you to love you too?” She sneers when Bucky and Steve make their way toward you. “I bet they did. You should watch your back.” She snaps at you. “If you don’t, you end up stabbed. They don’t love anyone but themselves.”

One angry look from Bucky, and the woman flees. Leaving you speechless and stunned.

You didn’t expect them to fall in love with you. Hell, you don’t know whatever is going on between you and them. Still, her words have you worried…

“Doll, she’s a frustrated bitch who doesn’t want us to get happy with you. Please believe me, she doesn’t mean shit to us. We haven’t seen her for almost three years,” Bucky sighs as you pull away.

You sniff and look away. “If we ever break up, will you say the same about me? Maybe you only want me to have your heir and kick me out the moment I pop out your baby.”

“Y/N, we should all calm down,” Steve softly says. “You see the woman at the store was Peggy Carter. A former love interest. Buck and I had something going on with her some years back. It was an on-and-off kind of thing. Sex only.”

“We broke things up because she got possessive over Steve,” Bucky makes a face. “You are important to us. I don’t know if it’s love, but we care for you.”

“If we are having a baby, you will be their mother. Bucky and I will not let you go. Not now, not ever. You are ours and belong with us.”

“And we belong with you,” the brunette adds. “This is not all about kinky sex, doll.” He smirks and undresses you with his eyes. “Even though, I want you to watch me have my way with Steve.”

“Okay,” you nod. “If we are going to bring new life into this…” You wrinkle your forehead. “Let’s call it a relationship. I want to clarify I few rules.”

“Oh, sweet doll,” Bucky purrs and is about to pounce on you. “I’m all for rules.”

“Bucky, she’s not wrong. We should talk about rules and our future together. Y/N needs safety and stability.”

Indecent Proposal (11)

Tags in reblog.

[icarustypicalfall]

Sweet Cherry Wine

Phillip Graves x fem!reader

summary: I'll crawl home to you, and if you dare to push me away, I'll break into ashes, thus my dust will fill your every space.

★ comfort (reversed) fluff/angsty/married couple/ legal age gap

notes: a sweet treat for my stars, so sorry for being away, I don't know when I'll come back, it feels too good to be here, and I don't want to leave. Ilysm for everything you had done to me, your support for the last 5 months had been incredible. I never thought I'd start this journey and honestly, it's all amazing. ty <3

★

The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine

Your husband was unusually quiet tonight. Despite being a proud man who usually took every opportunity to boast about you and his company, he remained silent throughout the evening. His arm rested gently on your waist as he absentmindedly followed the conversation. At first, you assumed he was just being protective, but there was something else on his mind.

You caught him stealing glances at your two friends dancing together on the dance floor. Sipping your drink, you couldn't help but wonder what was bothering him. He had refused to dance, citing an aching back from work. You absentmindedly traced the scar on his cheek, but he gently brushed your hand, placing it back on the table, as if he didn't want to be touched or engaged with. Finally, you understood and let go of him. Philip coughed nervously, fidgeting with his hands before deciding to step outside for a smoke. You nodded, deciding to join your friends on the dance floor. His behavior occupied your mind, but you resolved to ask him later what was wrong.

★

You slipped off your heels and fell onto the bed with a contented sigh. Philip sat on the edge, almost slumping to the ground. It was then that you noticed the furrowed brow that he wore. He was never one to easily show vulnerability or ask for help. You couldn't blame him, considering all that he had been through.

You moved closer to him, and he turned his head, avoiding your gaze. Your hand gently rested on his back, feeling the warmth of his skin radiating beneath your cold fingers. He hesitated for a moment before leaning into your touch. You sighed.

"What's wrong, Phil? Something bothering you?"

He remained silent for several moments, but then a sob escaped his lips as his body subtly shook. He turned away, hiding his face completely from you. His blond hair fell messily onto his forehead as he whispered between his hands with a broken tone, "Why me? Why did you choose me?"

You furrowed your brow, and he repeated himself, this time with a melancholic tone that couldn't be mistaken.

"I'm an old dog, nothing more than a war machine. Why me, darling? You could have had any other man— young, handsome. Yet you chose me," he confessed, gripping your hand tightly. His voice was quiet, but his words resonated louder than any shout.

"No, that's not true. I chose you because..."

He shook his head, unwilling to listen to anything. He interrupted, looking at you with a frown. "You know that I'm too old for you, right? I've got a face full of wrinkles, my hair is turning grey..." He turned away, releasing your hand and standing up. "Why can't you find yourself a younger man? Someone who can still dance with you at parties? Someone who can make you happy?"

You protested, standing up and facing him. "You make me happy."

He shook his head, looking at you once again. Affection was always present in his gaze, but fear had blinded him.

"Somebody who... somebody who won't die and leave you a widow," he said, looking into your eyes. The once bright blue of his eyes now reflected a somber shade, like a raging arctic in the midst of a storm of doubts.

"You know the end, we all die sooner or later. Why think about it now?"

"B-because you deserve better than me," he stammered.

"I love you," you said firmly.

His head snapped back, familiar with those words that were repeated daily, from dawn till dusk. But in this moment, they held more significance than ever.

"I love you. Nothing else matters to me. Why would I want another man when I have you?"

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he coughed, a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"What about when I'm 60 and can't get out of bed without groaning?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, a smile mirroring one from long ago.

"When you can hardly walk and your hair is falling out, I'll still feel the same about you," you reassured, squeezing his hand and smiling.

He looked at you in disbelief. "You'd do that for me? Even if I became a miserable old coot who wakes up every morning with joints that creak louder than an engine?"

You nodded. "When you reach 60, that'll still be 20 years from now. Until then, we can live without worrying about it. It doesn't matter what you become; it's about the life we've had together. No one cares about later. Let's enjoy what we have, Phil."

"God, I feel like I'm talking to a poet or something," he chuckled.

His hand gently cupped yours, his thumb tracing over the scar on his cheek. "What about my s-," he began, but you interrupted him with a tender kiss on his cheek. The warmth of your lips left a burning sensation on his skin, igniting a fire within him.

"I adore it, I adore every scar you have, everything about you," you assured him, your words carrying a depth of love and acceptance.

Tears welled up in his eyes once again, and you brushed them away with your thumb, kissing away the single tear that escaped. The weight of judgment and self-doubt he had been carrying seemed heavier than any burden he had faced before.

A wide grin spread across his face, and he lifted you up, spinning you around in joy. "Something about you makes me so happy, darling... your words are like witchcraft!" he exclaimed, his laughter filling the room.

You giggled, playfully ruffling his blond locks, earning a mock frown from him. "No! No touching the hair!" he protested, but you couldn't resist running your fingers through his soft hair once more, as if symbolically removing the last traces of doubt from his mind. He couldn't help but laugh, his resistance crumbling under your touch.

"Okay, now you're asking for it, you know," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Philip tilted your head down, gazing into your eyes with an overwhelming love. The softness of your lips enchanted him, and he leaned in, sipping from the elixir of immortality.

Your love was a delicate blend of honey and roses, overflowing with affection shared behind closed doors, a secret garden of emotions.

His warm breath brushed against your cheek, carrying a hint of alcohol from the earlier sip of whiskey. It trailed along your jawline and neck, leaving a tantalizing sensation in its wake. He whispered softly, gently setting you back down.

"You're a work of art, sweetheart... something I'll never fully understand, but something I'll forever pray for and thank God for granting me."

[toji-girl]

sugary sweet | k. nanami

tags: fem reader + you wear lip gloss and such + age gap (you mid 20's & him early 30's) + oc! friends + weed and wine + I had this sitting in my drafts for a while

The apartment complex Kento rented a year prior was one of the best decisions he made in his life, it was quaint and on the corner with his favorite bakery so it never took him long to grab his food. 

But now he finds himself dreading coming home because he knows he'd catch a glimpse of you, doe eyes, a soft smile, and a body he wanted to explore. You're younger than him he knows this much. 

However, that didn't deter him from thinking about you.

You're the devil trying to tempt him into sin with the way you bat your eyelashes at him, your lips turning into a pout when all you get from him is a tight smile. "Mr. Nanami! How are you? I'm sorry If my party kept you up late last night. It didn't, did it?" You asked when he stepped on the second floor with his keys in one hand, your glossed lips set in a soft smile as his eyes raked you in slowly and subtly.  

He stood at the ledge keeping his face neutral as your eyes shifted from the keys that he twirled between his fingers and his eyes that spoke of a tiredness that even a month's worth of sleep couldn't fix, with a soft smile waiting for his answer. 

"I'm fine, and it didn't, but you might want to keep it down still. The walls are thin." He hummed and unlocked his front door. 

Kento left you standing there when he stepped inside his apartment thinking about his comment, you sighed and glanced at his door wondering how you break his walls down while getting ready for work you stepped into your own territory and left for your evening shift. 

It was only a few times you saw him in the beginning, the first two months you could count on both hands how many times you spoke, and each time he stonewalled you, but sometimes you were able to make him smile which in turn made your blood run hot with curiosity. 

"Mr. Nanami!" Kento's shoulders tensed when he heard your syrupy sweet voice call out his name as you bounded up the stairs with grocery bags in your hands, you looked so naive but he knew you were anything but, it was just a front you put on for other people. 

He paused and left his keys hanging from his front door. "Everything okay? I told you that you could call me Kento." His tone was a bit warmer this time around, a clear sign you've broken down his walls. 

There was still a high guard up, but you'll take what you can get. "Kento, sorry, I was letting you know that I'm having a few friends over, and we'll keep it down this time." You told him warmly with a smile so sweet that he was sure rotted your teeth. 

That's when he noticed your lips were glossed again with a clear glitter, pouting and perfect. His mind drifted away for only a moment. 

His eyebrows furrowed first then smoothed out quickly relieving himself of the thoughts. "Thank you for telling me, have a good evening." With that he ended the conversation with the soft click of his door when he locked it, putting another wall up between you. 

All night, Kento could hear your giggling and hushed warnings to the people who were loud enough for him to hear every single detail. 

Mai wasn't happy in her marriage. Ema was thinking about sleeping with her best friend and classmate who has a girlfriend. Ami wanted to quit her job because her husband's sister, whom she doesn't like started working there. 

It was hard to ignore, and he couldn't deny that he was curious as to what happened next and heard you give honest advice to each friend. 

There was some crying, and another wine bottle popped open, making him wonder just how thin the walls actually were. Now came the questioning of your love life, or lack thereof. 

"I'm not looking for anything. Being single is nice, you know? But I will say I have a very cute neighbor, his name is Na-Kento. He's cute. Dark and very mysterious, older too and rugged." You gushed warmly.

He could hear the other women giggle and push you for more information when a heavy aroma of marijuana wafted into his apartment followed by more of your cute giggles. "What if he hears me saying how I want to bounce myself stupid on his dick?" 

"We could ask him! Let's get our friend laid!" Mai crooned. 

Kento listened to the shuffle of feet and the women trying to shush you, drunk and high they didn't think about tomorrow as they pushed you out of your apartment and watched as you knocked on his door. 

With a huff, he removed himself from his couch wondering why you had to move next door to him, and it's not that he hates you, if anything it's the complete opposite, now you've latched onto him.

It's a burning lust that consumed him whole, anytime he sees you his dick starts to think for itself, the way you smell so sweet like a freshly baked vanilla cake, and that made him want to have a taste of you.  

Your group of friends watched as the door was pulled open revealing Kento in a soft white shirt and plaid pj pants with socks covering his feet. Ema pushed you forward with a giggle. "Kento - I'm so sorry about this, I said we'd be quiet and here I am, anyway sorry, good night!" You called out and scurried back into your apartment with them. 

Embarrassment coursed through your veins as you rubbed your face and flopped on the couch.

Kento still had no choice but to listen to your conversation until the four of you passed out tangled up on your couch until the next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and regrets.

[harleehazbinfics]

Home is where my Heart is.

Chapter 10: Dad beat Dad pt. 2 Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2300+ A/N: so many lore drops oh lordy. Should I post chap 11 in 9 hrs? Comment below lolol

“Husband, dear,” I called for him closing the door behind me.

I find him on the chair by the fireplace, reading a book with his glasses on. I join him, smoothing out his shoulders with a gentle touch which he gave a satisfied hum to.

“What is it?” he asks placing a bookmark and closed the book. He puts it on the side table holds my hand pulling me in front of him.

“I just came to tell you something Charlie has planned,” I say brushing his hair, “she’s inviting over her father to help with her situation.”

He tenses up, he pulls his lips into an annoyed grin. I tilt my head, confused why he reacted so strongly at the mention of Lucifer. So, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

His smile fades into a guilty one and replies, “Miledy, you know I love you with all my heart but I wish I could tell you.”

I fall silent, a million questions appearing in my head before I finally spoke up once again, “Is it related to why you were gone?”

He heaved a breath as he stands, dipping a kiss on my forehead then holds me briefly in a tight squeeze and replies, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing too dangerous. I won’t let anything happen to you, love.”

I gave a deep sigh, trying to calm myself from the piling frustration but I needed to keep it together and trust him. Like we always do.

Just then, the memories of him leaving Abby and I in the cabin never to return flashed in my mind. I clasped his dress shirt in distress, feeling sweat form on my back and my body shaking.

Alastor pauses and looks at me in deep worry. He holds my shoulders and tries to look me in the eye, “Love, love what’s wrong?”

I remain unresponsive feeling my leg lose their strength as I fall onto his arms never once letting go of him. We settled on the carpet while Alastor held me close, letting me hear the soothing beating of his heart next to mine that was thumping loudly and erratically.

“Shit. Miledy, Miledy can you hear me? It’s ok, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a while of getting to calm me down, he waits for me to say something still rubbing my back in a soothing manner.

“You have to promise me, Al. Please don’t leave me behind,” I whimpered, “I can’t lose you again.”

His heart clenches at the sight of her, she looks so broken and afraid. I never stopped feeling guilty of breaking his promise and leaving her behind to look after Abby all alone. It must have been hard for her. It also made him angry with himself for being the same deadbeat dad that he had resented for all his living life. He was also afraid of thinking that he was unworthy of Miledy’s love, he broke his promise, left her alone and was so weak. That’s why he craved power, power to destroy everyone that would even dare to harm him and his family, so that one day they could live in peace. Something that he failed to do.

“I’ll never leave you, not now. Not anymore,” he says with a heavy heart.

“You’re stuck with me either way,” he say, trying to lighten the mood which I appreciated and smiled to. I leaned on him and enjoyed the sounds of the crackling flames and the beating of our hearts in sync. Finding solace in the mundane.

---time skip

Alastor and I stand side-by-side as we welcomed Lucifer to the hotel. He jumps in and hugs Charlie almost immediately. To which Alastor’s eye twitches in annoyance at.

“Oh, it's so good to see you. Haha!” he greets squeezing her making her let out a little squeak.

“It's uh, good to see you too, Dad,” Charlie strains out before Lucifer lets go her continuing, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

The little Eggbois popped some party poppers with a quick fanfare, only to find Lucifer being distracted by the cat.

“Oh hewwo KeeKee!” he greets the cat and continues with the lambs, “Razzle, Dazzle. Oh, look how much you haven't grown. Still fun sized. You taking care of my wittle girl? You better be.”

“Wow! This place sure looks, uh...uh huh yah uh huh...It's got a lot of character!” he comments trying to be polite at the interior.

“OH, what in the unholy hell is that?!” he screams pointing at the bar looking back at us.

Alastor takes us behind Lucifer in his shadow before reappearing and replies, “Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?”

Lucifer’s eyes drift to mine exclaiming in delight, “Miledy! Great to see you again, I haven’t heard from you for a while.”

We shake hands politely, something that Alastor seems to heavily dislike by pulling away my hand from the fallen angels'.

“I got busy you could say. I was waiting for the chance you’d come to the hotel actually. Glad to see you here!” I reply trying to be enthusiastic trying to hold my husband from throwing a tantrum.

“I see you’re well acquainted with my wife,” Alastor interjects with venom in his tone.

“And you are?” Lucifer eyes him suspiciously, also reciprocating the feeling of dislike.

“Alastor, Miledy’s lawful husband. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure,” he introduces with a hint of displeasure, shaking Lucifer’s cane before wiping it on his coat with disgust, “It's nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”

I coughed trying to hide my giggle but then realize I’m around the same height as him. Then my eyes following them as they had their silly banter.

“Who is this? Who is this nut? Are you the bellhop?”

“Aha! No! I am the host of the hotel. You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast.”

“Hmm, nope! I guess that's why Charlie called it the Has-been Hotel, ahaha.”

“Ha ha ha. It was actually my idea.”

“Ahaha. Well, it's not very clever.”

“Ha ha! Fuck you.”

“Woah. Okay!” Charlie and I yell while she pulls his father away to the parlor while I grab his waist pulling him in the other direction before a cat fight would start. “Okay, anyway. Dad, look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings! Without Alastor, we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much.”

“Charlie has a very unique vision. I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests,” Alastor goes back escaping from me and puts a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Oh, thank you, Alastor,” Charlie says tearing up, finally getting the fatherly attention she deserved.

“Quite an impressive young lady. We're all very proud of her,” Alastor eggs on lifting her chin with his finger with a devious smile.

“Ahem, Charlie! Dear, eheh, why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends?” Lucifer exclaims pointing to the group behind him.

As a friend I do feel bad for him, but this is the reality check he needed. For him to see that nothing will change if he isn’t willing. Alastor fighting with him might finally knock some sense into him, but so far. He really is a prideful thing he is.

“I am not helping you,” I state crossing my arms not even looking at my husband.

He laughs it off and shrugs, “With what? I’m not going to fight him.”

“Uh-huh,” I say not convinced. Only to put my suspicions proven when the chandelier falls, and they start singing. “Well, here we go.”

While I was enjoying their song, Mimzy barges in singing her heart out. I looked at her surprised, what was she doing here? It could be 2 things, she wants something or she’s in deep shit. Or a combination of both given her character.

I roll my eyes as Alastor and Mimzy exchanged hugs. Talking about our lives on Earth and stuff. We used to be friends but, you know, stuff happens. I sighed and sat down by the bar waiting for some crazy shit to happen now that all the chaos forces were here.

“Miledy! How’s it been going?” Mimzy asks as she takes the glass Husk slides at her while he gives me mine.

“Nothing much. Probably better off than you,” I snicker sipping the alcoholic blend.

“Psh, you can’t be serious. You’re still mad about what happened before?” she asks infuriated.

“You rang me, telling me you wanted to hang out then made me sit with 5 men at the bar and just said the morning after ‘thanks for covering for me?’ Are you insane?” I asked angrily, my hair flaring out as my teeth sharpened and bared them at her.

“It was just one time!”

“You did it twice! You better be grateful I haven’t told Alastor given you’ve been friends for so long,” I reply downing my drink and slamming it down.

Husk, Angel and Pentious were surprised by my outburst. Clearly, this was their first time seeing me lose my cool despite being collected around them. It couldn’t be helped, not if the one you’re sitting next to you made you a scapegoat a few times. I would find bills in our mailbox because of her. It wasn’t cheap either.

I grumbled pouring myself a drink and ignored her excuses. While Husk went probably to tell Alastor. Half an hour later, someone starts hammering on the door yelling for Mimzy, as she explains she stole 50 grand and drove over someone. Why am I not surprised.

“All of you! Get a safe distance, I'll take care of this,” Vaggie yells getting in front of everyone with her spear.

Before she could reach the loan sharks, Alastor steps in and says, “No, my dear, leave it to me. It's time I remind everyone why I am here.”

“Oh, finally! Took you long enough!” Mimzy yells behind the counter, making me bonk her over the head with bottle lightly before standing next to Alastor and changed into our demon forms.

“A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio/siren demon!” We announced both our forms towering over them.

I towered over them with my 15 ft form startling them from the sheer size. They quiver as they see my mouth pull into a sadistic teethy grin similar to Alastor's. Alastor slams down his tendrils while I held a note holding them down while they got crushed.

“I will devour each and every one of you!” Alastor exclaims gobbling them down, while they were paralyzed.

After defeating all of them we shrink back down to our normal selves.

“Oh, I missed getting to let off steam!” Alastor states with a hearty laugh, while I panted beside him.

“God, I haven’t turned into that form for a while. I forgot how tiring it is,” I wheezed.

“Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always. Thanks for helping lil' old me out of a tougher spot, you're always such a pal!” Mimzy thanked him, while I glared at her. This was her mess to begin with. As a debris falls beside her, “Oops. Heheh… sorry about the mess, but I'm sure the little bug can take care of it for you.”

Before I could roll my eyes, Alastor says something that surprised me, “I think you should go Mimzy, now.”

Mimzy visibly shocked, tries to play it off, “Oh pff, Alastor, you're such a kidder you! Haha, you are so funny!”

“I mean it. You deliberately brought danger to this place just to have me clean up your mess. I can't have that here,” he deadpans not even looking at her.

“But you love taking care of me! What? You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya? Come on, I know you. You heartless son-of-a-bitch~” she iterates poking him on the chest.

“You are welcome if you actually want to give redemption a shot, but I think we both know that's not really your style, so you need to leave.”

“Fine! Who needs you? Have fun with your little princess and your little hotel! See if I care!”

After she flips off Alastor and storms out, he turns back to me with the same look. I flinch and ask, “W-what?”

“I know what she did to you, so why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded an explanation.

“Because! Both of you were long time friends before we got together, and thanks to her I got a start in my career,” I replied hugging myself, unsure now if I made the best decision.

“I’m not mad at you, but the next time something similar happens come to me. You’re my wife, Mel. I put you above than everybody else,” he says sincerely brushing my cheek to which I nodded to.

When we got inside the hotel, Lucifer and Charlie had a confrontation. One that they both desperately needed.

“I wish we could see our little girl again,” I whisper while leaning on Alastor.

“I’m sure she’s doing fine, darling” he says putting his arm around me and squeezing my shoulder.

After closing their song in a hug, Lucifer says this, “Ok, I can get you the meeting but once you're in Heaven, I won't be able to go with you. Will you be ok?”

“I'll be fine,” she assures.

“That's my girl,” he smiles then smiles, “Good luck, kiddo.”

He then disappears in a red mist leaving us to deal with the aftermath of everything.

“This next part is going to be scary. You ready?” Vaggie asks walking towards Charlie.

“I'm ready,” Charlie says as she hugs her, “cuz you'll be with me.”

“In spirit, right?” Vaggie asks unsure if they’re on the same page.

“In Heaven!” Charlie exclaims looking at the sky.

“Yay…” her girlfriend chants unenthusiastically feeling regret for asking.

“Have a nice trip!” I say with a smile, “We still have to clean up this up first though.”

“Ughhh…”

TAGLIST: (here to join!)

@marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich

[devilfic]

I just arrived after finding your delicious drabbled about Miquel where he ends up spareing with the reader and i-

I'm here looking directly at it 👀👀👀 it was soooo good and it's giving me huge brain worms!

Do you mind a small request? Somethkng along those same lines but reader and him end up facing an anomaly/enemy too dangerous that among has Reader killed, and that is where flight of right kicks in, and they are the one to bite the villain

And bam turns out they also have venom but... a more deadly kind of venom, and they never used it or told anybody because it happened something badnin their original world and had to hide it not to end up in danger

I see the vision, but walk with me

❝things we do❞

plot: you lost your husband in another universe. you wouldn't make that mistake again... even if it meant betraying the promise you made to yourself. pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader. cw: kinda dark!miguel, slightly ooc miguel, angst, established relationship, major character death (in alternate universe), takes place before atsv, dubious morals, murder, miguel brings a sort of "killing is ok under certain circumstances" vibe to the spider society that the spider society don't really like, happy ending? you decide. words: 2.4k.

The weight on his chest is unbearable, stronger than anything he's ever handled before, and he hasn't felt this kind of fear in a while. He's staring at the mauling dog of a villain that he's barely holding back and thinking that this might be it. The other Spiders are busy fighting off its minions, he's lost too much blood, and this thing—in its animalistic haze that has rendered its humanity an unwilling witness—wants him dead. And you, somewhere across the room... he won't even get to say goodbye. There'll be nothing left of him to do so.

His arm is broken, pinned under one massive paw, and the other is stuck between the gnashing teeth of his soon-to-be killer. The suit is breaking. He can hear Lyla's voice distort. She's calling out to him, begging him to get up.

Miguel looks into the violet eyes of the anomaly whose gigantic canines Miguel's fangs could be no match for. He's going to die alone. He'd bother to sob if the effort to do so wouldn't kill him first. He shuts his eyes when his arm slackens a little, struggling to hold the monster back, and lets himself make peace with it. Whatever there is beyond this, he hopes his little girl will be there.

He feels the drip of the monster's hot drool on his face and awaits death like a gift, but nothing happens.

Well, something happens, but not to him. He feels the spray of something hotter on his eyelids, so hot it's almost boiling, and then the weight of his killer swaying one way and another, no longer able to keep his arm in its grip. Miguel opens an eye.

He doesn't know what he's expecting, but it isn't you. You're hanging off the anomaly's back with your face buried in its furry throat. He wonders what you could possibly be doing to it to make it whine for death the way it does. It almost hurts him to hear it.

The anomaly falls to its side, frozen from head to toe as if it had died from shock, and for a moment Miguel thinks that it had crushed you underneath its massive weight. He hasn't any strength left but he feels himself struggling to cry out your name, pushing against the gashes in his torso to try and crawl toward you.

He's on his side and panting when he sees you crawl over the beast and land beside him. Faintly, he's sure he hears your voice asking if he's alright, but his attention catches on red and white.

Gleaming, sharp, white fangs protruding from your mouth and dripping with the anomaly's blood. He's so stunned that he feels his own body seize up too.

He's known you. He's known you inside and out and over and over since you'd fallen into his universe, and he's never seen those.

You touch a hand to your mouth and freeze, and in but a second the fangs are gone as if they were never there. The blood of the anomaly you'd slain continues to dribble down the sides of your lips, though. It waterfalls down your chin, down your neck, down to the ring that hangs there—staining the gold band red. A reminder that it wasn't a trick of the light, what he'd seen. You'd bitten it.

In his position, he could see right into the anomaly's dead eyes. What was once a radiant violet had dulled, become lifeless. It stared back at him in horror. It hadn't expected to die. It hadn't had a chance to put up a fight.

Just what were you?

When Miguel comes to, he comes to violently.

The first thing he senses is the searing pain throughout his body. Every part of him is aching, begging for relief or numbness or amputation. He's never been beaten down this bad. The second thing he senses is the body beside him, propped up in a chair next to what he realizes is a hospital bed. He's... in the infirmary.

Jessica sits upright, her hand grasping for Miguel's but he pulls it away to free himself of the sheets his legs are tangled in. He knows he sounds frenzied and a bit slurred from sleep, but he's certain Jessica hears him asking where you are.

"Hey, whoa, sit back down," and Miguel doesn't have much choice against the full strength of her hand pushing against his chest, "you've been out for a full day. You're in no position to be moving right now."

A day had passed? That unsettled him. He demands to know where you are once more.

Jessica's brows knit together at that. He can tell there's something that's happened, but if there was anything he understood about Jessica Drew, it was that she always picked her words deliberately. Whatever answer she should deliver, she was struggling to.

She joins him on the bed bed, turned away from him, and rests her elbows on her knees. "Lockup."

His blood runs cold. "What?"

"They killed an anomaly, Miguel. You know the rules."

"It was going to kill me."

Jessica finally looks at him, "It?" Miguel swallows. He feels parched. "Miguel, it was a person. A person who wasn't supposed to end up mutated, let alone dead. We could have subdued them some other way. We could've brought them back to HQ, sent them back to their universe, let their Spider handle a cure-"

"Or it could've killed me in the process, which is why-"

"Which is why we've got Spiders working over time to fix the collapse in the wake of their death." Jessica sounds exhausted, and for the first time since waking, Miguel realizes that her marred skin is visible underneath the tears in her suit. "Look, the others don't know yet. They think it was a freak accident. And I'm glad you're alive. Over-fucking-joyed. But your partner... they messed up. Big time. Had it been anyone else, would you be reacting like this?"

Miguel says nothing. He knows the answer, and he's too tired to pretend he doesn't.

Then, the last thing he remembered hovers over his mind's better concerns. He wasn't sure how much Jessica (or anyone) even knew about how you killed the anomaly. You'd kept it from him and he was your lover. He knew everything about you.

Except this. "I want to see them."

"What did I just say?"

"Jessica, I don't care—I need to see them. Please."

"...That doesn't matter. I don't think they want to see you."

Miguel stills. He doesn't even feel the pain anymore, "What?"

"You think any of us were itching to throw them into lockup with you on death's door? They did it to themselves, and they won't talk to anyone. They just keep begging to be sent back to their universe."

Your universe. The universe you dreaded returning to. The universe where you lost your uncle and your aunt and your friends and your husband. He'd never been because you'd asked him never to come. And now you were begging to go back?

The heart monitor beside his bed starts picking up and Jessica places a hand over his. This time, he can't be bothered to pull away, "But maybe," she starts, like she's pushing through a bad idea, "maybe they'll talk to you."

It's hard getting into lockup with thousands of eyes on him, but most Spiders have enough sense to keep their distance. With Jessica clinging to his side and his hand guiding his IV pole alongside him, he's given a wide berth.

Some of the villains aren't so polite, and by the time he's reached your anomaly prison, his blood pressure has spiked enough to warrant putting him back in bed. Instead, he places a hand against the prismatic cage and speaks your name softly.

You look up and his whole world stops.

It's clear you've been crying, but worse than that, you look horrified to see him. You press yourself further away from him, as far as the bench inside will allow you. Your eyes dart to Jessica, "I told you to send me home." You sound betrayed.

"And then what? You can't run from this. Talk it out and see how you feel after." Jessica releases Miguel, giving him but a solemn nod before disappearing off into the main lobby.

"You were going to leave?" Miguel can't help the way his voice cracks. You almost look back at him, then.

It's silent between you for a while. Perhaps you're waiting for him to get frustrated and give up on you, or yell, or bang on the cage until you talk. You avoid his eyes and you keep to your side of the cage, head lowered, fingers trembling in your lap.

Miguel webs a nearby chair to him and takes a seat, "Does anyone else know?"

"No. Just you."

He about sighs in relief when you answer him. "Why did you never tell me?"

You make fists with your hands but they still shake all the same. A beat passes, "Because this isn't the first time I've killed."

Another beat passes. The shock of it is hard to wash down for Miguel. He feels his world teetering on its axis, a breath away from falling and shattering into pieces for the second time in his life. He tries to calm the flurry of thoughts—When? Who? How? Was it justified? Could you justify it to him? Could he justify it to himself, the Society?—and settles on one, "What happened?"

It physically pains you to recall it, and he regrets with everything in him that he had asked you to, "Back in my universe. When I was bitten, I was still learning how everything worked. I wasn't used to being this strong, let alone the venom and I... it was the night my uncle died. I saw the man that did it. And I found him. And I cornered him. And I was so..." You shudder, "I was so angry, Miguel. I wanted to hurt him but a part of me wanted him dead more. And it won."

Miguel and you sit with that. He can almost see it vividly, his own chest swelling with grief for you. For your uncle. For the burden you carry. "And?"

"And I swore I would never do it again. Never. But it... it cost me something, Miguel. And I never told you because I swore I wouldn't do that either. But, clearly, I'm all about breaking promises to myself lately."

Miguel frowns, leaning forward in his chair, wishing he could reach through the amber separating you both and just touch you, "You don't have to tell me. Not if you don't want to."

You finally look him in the eyes and he thinks you're thinking about it. Your mouth drops open anyway, "Remember my husband from that universe? The one I told you I lost because I was just a second too late?" Miguel nods. "I said I thought of every possibility but nothing would work. That was a lie. It wasn't entirely helpless. I could have saved him from that villain. But I would have had to kill to do it, and I just... froze. I just couldn't. And he died because of me."

Your lover shakes his head, warm tears prickling at his waterline, "No, no. No. Don't blame yourself for that. Don't... don't make yourself responsible for that villain's choice."

"But I wanted to, Miguel." You plead, and for the first time since he's sat down, you push yourself closer to him. "I wanted to do it to save him."

Miguel looks around. A nearby anomaly is staring on at the two of you, smirking, twirling a knife in between their spindly fingers. Spiders weave in and out of the room but it's a slow day. No one is around to hear what he says next, what he whispers to comfort you, "You saved my life."

Or what you say back, "I couldn't watch you die again."

It clicks into place. Why you never called your husband by name, why you never wanted him to visit your universe, why you almost walked out of the Spider Society the second you walked in. Why you looked at him, broken and beaten but safe, and recoiled. Why he'd always liked the look of that ring hanging from your neck. Like-

"I would've picked it myself. I can see why he chose it." His finger pokes at the ring with some feeling tugging between jealousy and sympathy. Knowing that it belonged to someone else, that it holds so dear to you even now, and that it was a part of the you that he never got the chance to know. "It's perfect."

You let your head fall to the side and smile into his pillow, "I thought so too."

It's quiet on the top floor. Not even Lyla intervenes. Miguel can't stop himself from asking, "What was he like?"

He half expects you to shut down but you don't. You stare into him, unblinking, somehow here with him and somehow far away, "Brave, kind, dashing in the heroic way and yet he preferred to be behind the scenes. He always supported me. Even before I lost him, he..." You choke up. Miguel's hand finds yours, "...he told me it was okay. That I'd done everything I could do. That he loved me. And that I should love again."

Miguel watches your chest heave with the weight of your confession, but more comes spilling out, "And you know what's funny? You... remind me so much of him. Like his love found me in you."

His mind flashes with images of Gabriella, of the man he'd replaced looking for home, and of the world that fell around him because of it.

And here you were. Telling him that you'd done nearly the exact same thing. Finding him in another universe. Tempting fate.

He should send you back to your universe. That's where you belong. You would have never killed again if it hadn't been for him, and keeping his distance could be the best thing for you.

The anomaly prison falls away. He issues the command to Lyla before he could even register the words leaving his mouth. You watch him in horror as he sits beside you, taking your hands into his own, and kisses your knuckles. His lips stay planted there for a moment, relishing in the feeling of your realness.

It is then that Miguel realizes he cannot bear to let go.

He keeps his head lowered, lips hovering a hair's length from your skin as his eyes lock onto you. You look like you've realized something, like you've been hit with the stunning clarity that you've done something terribly, terribly wrong, "And you won't have to."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @honestlystop @yehet-moi-ohorat

[universallychaoticpan]

Until I'm sleeping

Atsushi x reader

He didn't want to believe, couldn't bring himself to see you this way. In the heat of battle, he had lost sight of you, but hadn't paid any mind; you were so strong, so fierce- you didn't need the likes of him worrying about you. No one could touch you when you fought; your body and mind were honed in the art of war in ways he couldn't understand. Not you, who'd been a mentor and a friend, who had comforted him on the lonely nights when the world had kept him awake. Death could never touch you. But the smoke had cleared and the dust settled, and no one had been able to find you.

He only wished it had been someone who could have helped you to find you first.

But when he'd stumbled upon you, it was already too late. There was so much blood, soaking through your shirt, on your skin, staining the ground and resting heavy on the air. He was aware of the tears steaming down his cheeks, the way he was heaving for breath through the sobs. But above all, he was watching your face.

Because you were smiling.

You were holding his hand, and smiling- a small, sad grin that had broken when he had dropped to his knees beside you, and your grip was weak but it was there. Hold on, hold on hold on- as long as you didn't let go, it could still be ok.

"We had a hell of a run, didn't we kid?" You winced in pain, your body slowly shutting down even as you spoke. "I still remember the first day you showed up at the agency. You looked so scared- like a tiger cub." You laughed a bit at your own joke, hand tightening as your body protested the movement. "Dazai and I knew we were gonna care about you too damn much for our own goods and god knows I already waste too much energy worrying about my husband."

"You can lecture me for hours when we go home- it's all going to be ok."

Still smiling, you shook your head. "No," you murmured, pressing a hand to his cheek. "no, not today. You'll have to go home without me."

"Don't say that," he pleaded. "Please, don't say that. Yosano will come, someone will come you're going to be ok. Please, y/n, we need you to be ok. I need you to be ok."

"Shh, sh," you soothed. "It's alright Atsushi. I promise. Besides, it might be selfish but I was only afraid of being alone." You chuckled softly, tears springing to your eyes even as you fought them. "You're here now, and I am not alone. So," you breathed, "will you do a mentor one last favor?

Will you stay with me until I go?"

He couldn't bring himself to speak, but he nodded, more tears falling to the ground and mingling with the blood as he pulled your body into his arms.

You were so quiet, so still; the only reason he knew you still breathed was the faint pulse under his finger, getting fainter every minute. But he stroked your hair and let your eyes flutter shut, your breaths becoming shaky, then shallow, then a whisper on the air as they left your lips. If he tried, he could almost think you were just falling asleep after a long day. When you were like this, you were almost a child; sweet as a sleeping baby.

He didn't know how long he sat there, how long he stayed there with tears washing lines of dirt of his face, simply staring down at you. He didn't know when he stopped feeling your pulse, when he stopped feeling the nearly indiscernible movement of your breathing.

But he would never forget the look in Dazai's eyes when he found you both; the worst sorrow, the most terrible understanding. He knew the second he saw, and didn't say a word He simply lifted your body from the ground, his breaking heart clear in his expression as he turned to go.

"Come on now, Atsushi. It's time to get her home."

[bippot]

Summary: When he used to say that he wished he could fall in love with his wife all over again, Bob may have jinxed himself. Yet, the process of knowing her once more wasn't as smooth as he'd used to think.

Honestly, he doesn't know which is worse - his broken bones or the fact she can't seem to forget who he once was?

Tags: Angst, Amnesia, Established Relationship, Memory Loss, Airplane Crashes, Major Character Injury, Hospitals, True Love, Love at First Sight,Married Couple

Music Recommendation: Over Again by One Direction

Top Gun: Maverick, Robert "Bob" Floyd Masterlist - here

Bob had noticed it back in flight school. Whether they were in class or at a bar or watching a movie - anything other than flying really - Y/N would be playing around with his hands. She'd always do it. Sometimes unconsciously. Sometimes not.

His favourite was always when she would wrap her hand around his and gently trace random shapes into his palm. He never minded. In fact, it was pretty nice. Calming, actually. The sensation of her soft skin moving against his made something stir inside him. Thanks to this revelation, it became a method of calming him down. If he was ever anxious, he'd start trailing patterns across his hand. It wasn't as effective if he did it to himself, but it still worked, which was better than nothing.

So that's how he stood, standing there with his suit on with Nat beside him, making circles against his palm. Those circles were ten, maybe twenty times more heavy handed than Y/N would ever do. He took the time to imagine that it was Y/N's thumb, that she was here on the mission with him.

"You ready, Specs?" Nat teased, hoping that a little bit of back and forth would ease his mind. It didn't. Bob nodded stiffly back at her, and the pair began to walk to their plane.

Looking back, he had been correct in his worries that day. Only that day. All of the other times he'd thought the mission was going to go wrong, he was pleasantly surprised when it went right. That is, until it went wrong. Severely wrong. Engine failure whilst you're miles up in the sky in a metal box kind of wrong.

Bob had been in an accident. Lieutenant Floyd had been in the backseat as Lieutenant Trace's plane decided to call it quits on them. Robert James Floyd had been in the air one minute and the next he was being hauled to safety by Natasha Jade Trace. That's what she was told. Y/N knew it was the truth - why else would they have said it? - but no, she wasn't going to believe it until she saw it.

Then she saw Nat. She'd gotten away far better than Bob had. Alive but unconscious. Not a good sign. All of the wires and drugs they were pumping into her wasn't a good sign either. Phoenix had too many broken bones: who knows how many ribs? well, it's certainly 12 or below; an arm; a collarbone; a few fingers and a few toes. She got off easy.

For the first handful of hours, Y/N wasn't allowed to see her husband. He was busy. Surgery can take a long time, especially if you've broken most of the bones in your body. There needed to be some reconstruction to Bob before he was allowed out of the theatre and Y/N knew that more injuries would present themselves when he woke.

In the meantime, Y/N kept herself occupied by watching over Phoenix. Poor Nat had woken up to a doctor prodding her and scanned the room for answers. She found Y/N's face. A waterfall of tears and apologies poured out of Nat immediately, but Y/N was quick to soothe her.

"Hey, if anything, we should blame the plane. Its fault for giving up on the two of you. I'm going to fly out to the middle of the ocean and give those scraps a good yelling at," Y/N told her, smiling slightly despite everything.

Yeah, she was worried out of her goddamn mind, yet two blubbering messes wouldn't help anything. So, Y/N stayed strong for now. Just for the time being. There would be a moment when every single emotion would be laid bare, but this was not it. She could wait it out. For now.

"Move over a little, Nix."

Nat shuffled over to let Y/N lie down next to her on the hospital bed and was quick to press her face into her friend's shoulder, sobbing and shaking as the reality of what had happened sank in for her. Phoenix was distraught. How could she not be? Y/N put her arm around her friend's shoulders and stroked her hair softly, letting Nat cry into her neck. When the inevitable, "It's all my fault," lie popped up, Y/N was ready to argue otherwise. She held onto Nat tighter as she did so. No matter what state Bob ended up in, she was never going to let that sentiment slide.

The two most important women in Bob's life lay side by side on Nat's hospital bed and held each other tight all night. Nat's head was resting against Y/N's chest when they finally fell asleep, arms wrapped tightly around each other, both holding onto hope that Bob would wake and be perfectly okay. They knew that was delusional. But you've got to hope. Just holding onto someone felt like it could be okay someday.

Due to her injuries and the fact that sobbing can take a lot of energy, Phoenix fell asleep fast, lulled into a slumber by the rhythmic motion of Y/N running gentle fingers through her hair. It was soothing but still very painful at the same time for Y/N.

And once Y/N was sure Nat was firmly asleep, she let herself cry. Cry silently. She felt so useless just sitting there, tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes grew blurry with grief. It was going to happen but Y/N was just relieved she held it together long enough that Nat didn't have to witness it. Every time her mind tried to focus on the current situation, it would jump from one horrible thought to another. The main one that kept bouncing around her skull was how the hell would she tell Bob's dad if he died?

Like his son, Bob Senior had that face. That look. That damn, stupid, determined, sweet look that seemed to always make Y/N want to keep him happy no matter the cost. His kind, easy-going nature had been imprinted on Bob Junior from a very young age, that could be gleaned easily. Y/N had noticed it mere minutes into her first introduction to Bob's parents.

There was just something about the Floyd men, a lightness, a smile and an attitude that radiated warmth, sunshine. She didn't want night to come and take that shine away.

It was around half four in the morning when Bob came out of surgery and was transferred to the room he'd come to spend the next few weeks in. Y/N hadn't slept. She couldn't. As soon as she saw the doctor approach, she quickly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and tried to make it look like she hadn't been falling apart for the last couple of hours before she woke Nat up with the news.

Yet, Nat noticed. Reaching out with a weak and wired hand, Nat brushed her pointer across Y/N's cheek to wipe some of the wetness away. The exchange was silent. Just a gentle touch that said everything it needed to in that moment.

At that point, the doctors had no idea what state Bob was going to wake up in. From the outside he looked banged up - as he should - but they'd stitched his wounds and bandaged his injuries. He was alive, breathing, stable, and sleeping peacefully. Now they just had to wait till he woke.

If he woke, the doctors reminded her.

Seeing Phoenix in such a state was manageable - not nice at all but bearable - because she was awake and it was possible to visibly assess her injuries in seconds. Not to minimise the pain Natasha was feeling, but it was simple. It was broken bones and a broken ego. Those can be fixed.

Slowly, Y/N inched her way closer to Bob's unconscious body. Despite how much she needed to be by his side, every step was as if she was walking on glass. With all the pain and worry in her heart, there was only one thought running through Y/N's mind. She didn't want Bob to wake up alone and scared so, with all the courage it needed, she got closer and closer until she was by his side.

"Hi pretty boy, hey handsome...I'm here and please take enough time as you need to wake up," Y/N whispered as gently as she could manage, caressing his cheek softly as tears continued to fall. With a sad chuckle, she added, "Although, it would be nice if you could do it as soon as possible. No pressure."

There was no response, no movement to indicate that she'd even heard Y/N. Still, Y/N stayed right beside him. She watched every single inhale. Examined every exhale. Every twitch. Every single moment that proved her husband was moderately okay was under insane scrutiny.

Maybe he was dreaming right now. She hoped he was having a wonderful dream of home, safe and sound and perfectly domestic.

"I love you. I know you know that and we say it all the time, but I don't know, you always get that goofy look on your face whenever I say it. And we've been together for years and you still react like the first time I said it to you. It's cute, really really cute."

She wished her words actually carried any magic to them. Because, right now, she honestly believed they did not. They meant nothing. They didn't heal him. They couldn't save him from whatever had happened to him. And they certainly weren't helping her calm down.

In truth, they were useless. She was useless.

Her voice cracked. She tilted her head towards the ceiling and tried to stop herself from breaking even further. And as she went to say something else, her throat closed up. She couldn't speak anymore. Her bottom lip quivered and she promptly bit down on it to stop the pained squeak from getting through.

Eventually, she passed out with her hand in his. It was a nice couple of hours of nothingness. A brief moment where she didn't have to look at her mangled husband. Or hear the beep of the heart rate monitor. Or smell the insufferably impersonal hospital scent that clung to every single piece of furniture. Or think about what the fuck would happen tomorrow.

Tomorrow came. Bob didn't wake. He didn't the next day either. The day after that, however, he opened his eyes.

Completely confused and immensely overwhelmed by all of his senses turning on at once, Bob looked frantically around the room, eyes adjusting slowly to the lights. What the...? Where was he? Who was he? Why did his body hurt all over? And why was some random woman asleep on his hand?

Although, he did have to admit that the random woman was pretty. That was a bonus, a silver lining that he wasn't intending to look for but found anyway. He wasn't sure how many women he'd seen before. This one? Had to be the prettiest, he was sure. That was the only thing he was sure about.

He tried to move but was bombarded with pain. His arms, his legs...his chest and head...everything hurt. Everything hurt a lot. Like badly. Like maybe a bit too badly. His vision began to swim and the edges of his eyeline started getting dark. Was that bad? It probably was.

So, he put all his focus on the pretty girl. He slowed his breathing down to match hers, which was helping him not to hyperventilate at that moment and cause himself more pain. He couldn't be in that much trouble if he had a guardian angel next to him. Surely.

It was taking the entirety of his effort to telepathically try to communicate to her, 'Hey! Wake up!' with minimal success. He was trying his best. He just wanted to ask who she was, who he was and what the hell was happening to him.

Finally, the stranger stirred awake. The first sign was when her fingers automatically began drawing circles against the back of his hand. She was rather surprised when the hand turned over so she could do the same to his palm. Her head shot up and her eyes widened upon seeing Bob awake.

"Hi baby," she greeted in a hushed but excited tone, her voice barely above a whisper just in case he was sensitive to noise, which the doctors had warned her that could be the case.

"Hi," he croaked, coughing a little before clearing his throat. He tried to sit up with difficulty but Y/N placed her hand upon his peck to gently push him back down onto the pillows.

"Just lie there for a while, okay? You need to stay still." Her hand came up to cradle his cheek, brushing her thumb against his cheekbone tenderly. For a few moments, there was silence between them. Nothing but the soft sounds of their breathing until Y/N asked, "Do you know where you are?"

Bob blinked once, twice, three times. "No. I assume I'm in a hospital."

"Miramar General." A few more blinks. "Where do you remember being last?"

Bob gave her a look so vulnerable and helpless, his eyes seemed to glaze over slightly as his brow creased in concentration. "Don't panic. Don't think too hard," she urged him, her other hand resting against his other cheek. "You're gonna hurt yourself. Just relax for me, alright?"

When Bob gave the slightest nod, some smidgeon of relief washed over her. At least he was responsive. He was alive, conscious, aware, and breathing. But he wasn't himself, she could tell just by looking at him. It was in his eyes. There was something missing.

Still, despite being terrified, he managed a smile anyway. He didn't want her to get worried because of his condition so he forced his features into something neutral to make her feel better. If anything, it made her feel worse because she could see right through the act.

Then, it hit her.

"Do you remember me?" She asked quietly, her eyes pleading with him with every single fibre of her being to speak and to tell the truth. The thing missing had been that spark of understanding that they shared. People often said the couple shared a brain.

He gulped.

"No."

Y/N felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She retracted her hands from his cheeks and let them fall limply to her lap, her eyes twinkling with quickly forming tears as she played what he'd just said in her head over and over again. Her husband doesn't remember her. He doesn't remember anything about their lives, both together and apart.

"Oh...I...Okay then," she mumbled under her breath, letting out a short, awkward laugh. "I should get the doctor."

Before she could move away though, he attempted to catch her wrist but pain flashed across his face and the sudden movement sent his entire body into agony. The sound of his cries alerted Y/N and she rushed to turn back towards him immediately.

Soothingly, she stroked his hair again, whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him, saying it was going to be fine. She repeated this process for a while until he gave her a little nod. Her voice sounded hoarse, so she cleared her throat and said with a small smile, "I'll go get the doctor, okay? Please don't try to move."

"Okay. I'm sorry for not remembering you."

"I know you are, Bobby."

Bobby? That must be his name. Yeah. Bobby. That sounded familiar. Almost familiar. He could imagine people calling him that. Like his parents - he assumed he had parents - he'd like to think he'd be Bobby to them. He felt like a Bobby.

Picking up the button, Y/N pressed for the assistance and was soon being asked to leave as they went over all the tests they needed to do. While he'd been easy-going with her, he was far from it with the doctors. He got agitated and frustrated with all the poking and prodding in seconds flat, causing him to start painfully squirming around and making muffled groans in his throat. He'd lost patience fast with all the stupid questions they asked him.

That was unlike him, Y/N thought. Although, it was understandable considering everything that's happened to him. She stood watching him through the window, her heart aching as she forced herself to stay put. She wasn't supposed to go inside, Y/N knew that, but she desperately wanted to calm him down, and wanted to give him a little bit of comfort.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bob noticed Y/N staring at him, watching him carefully while biting on her fingernails. He stopped resisting the medical professionals' attempts and finally allowed them to examine him. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for the care, he really was. However, he'd never seen all of these people before and he was feeling very claustrophobic and anxious with them around him.

He wanted Y/N. He desperately wanted Y/N in the room and he didn't even know her name.

As she was waiting, Rooster and Hangman arrived. Jake practically ran towards Y/N and wrapped her in a bear hug, squeezing her so tight she almost couldn't breathe. "I got ya, kid," he mumbled, holding her tightly against his chest before releasing her and taking in her appearance. "When did you last shower?"

Jake's question was answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Dude." Rooster punched him in the arm lightly and pushed him out of the way to embrace Y/N. "How are you feeling?"

"Sad." Y/N hugged him and buried her face into his shoulder, sniffing a little. "He just woke up and... and...he doesn't…us, he…" she trailed off, unable to find the strength to actually say it out loud.

"Doesn’t what?" Jake coaxed softly, rubbing soothing circles along the length of Y/N's back.

"He doesn't remember anything."

Tears began falling from Y/N's eyes at that point and she couldn't stop them anymore, no matter how hard she'd tried. She was sobbing, feeling completely overwhelmed with emotion, with pain and guilt all mixed in one gigantic ball. Then Jake wrapped her up in his strong arms one again, holding her up as her legs gave out beneath her and she clung to him for dear life. She cried into his shirt, soaking it with snot and tears and all kinds of gross stuff. He held her as tight as he possibly could without hurting her and whispered soothing words in her ear.

She eventually calmed down enough to pull away, wiping her wet, puffy eyes with her sleeve and sniffing a few times, trying to compose herself. "Sorry. God, I hate crying. It's disgusting," she chuckled halfheartedly, trying to cover her embarrassment. "Brad, do you mind checking on Phoenix, keep her updated? I haven't managed to do it yet today."

Rooster gave her a quick nod of agreement and squeezed her shoulder affectionately before heading toward the direction of Phoenix's room. Hangman stayed by Y/N's side and rubbed gentle circles against her arm while speaking softly to her in an attempt to calm her down.

They'd been friends for years and Jake knew Y/N was tough and brave enough to put up with a lot. She put up with him, after all. Yet, as he held his buddy, he felt tears prick his own eyes. He was unable to help himself. He could see that Y/N was breaking inside. Her facade that she used whenever they flew, which she usually wore with such confidence, had never faltered as much as this before.

Neither of them seemed inclined to say anything else for a while, neither one really knowing what to say that would explain things. They just watched Bob through the window, shoulder to shoulder with each other. Jake wasn't surprised when Y/N let her head fall against his arm and let out an exasperated sigh.

Eventually, the doctors allowed her back in, not without an in depth rundown of what was actually going on. General dissociative amnesia is what the fancy name for it was. His mental functions had broken down due to the excessive stress of the accident and severe trauma he'd suffered. His memories were gone. Completely erased.

His entire life, everything he experienced up until now, was just one big blur.

"Hi again."

Bob waved at Y/N timidly. His voice was still slow and raspy and his body language was even more subdued than usual due to all the drugs they'd given him. Still, he managed to smile slightly, though, if only barely.

"Hi Bobby." She grinned tiredly and walked over very slowly towards him. "Can I come closer?"

He nodded his head slightly and scooted over on his bed a little, giving her plenty of space so she could sit comfortably next to him. She climbed onto the bed hesitantly but he didn't seem annoyed or even phased by it at all. In fact, he welcomed her arrival, smiling a little more as she approached his side. "So, um....How are you feeling?" She asked nervously, looking into his eyes.

"Like I fell from a broken plane into the middle of the ocean and got bad head trauma." His lips curled upwards into another slight smile. "Other than that, I'm kinda tired."

"Do you... do you want me to -" She gestured towards the door. "If you need sleep I can -"

"No! No, don't go." He shook his head at her frantically. "Stay please." He glanced downwards, a blush painting his cheeks red and the tips of his ears turning bright red. "I mean... if you're comfortable with doing so."

Even without his memories, he was still considerate. It made her heart flutter in her chest. A soft silence settled between both of them as they stared at each other for a moment before Bob finally asked something that he'd had on his mind since he'd woken up, "What's your name? I asked the doctor but he was too busy - or wasn't listening, I don't know which - and didn't answer me."

Y/N looked down, fiddling with her fingers awkwardly. "It's Y/N. My name's Y/N," she muttered quietly.

"Y/N," Bob repeated slowly, testing the sound of the word on his tongue. He liked the feel of it. He enjoyed hearing Y/N's name coming from his lips. The sound felt natural, somehow. "Who am I to you, Y/N?"

There was an awkward pause as Y/N contemplated the best way to answer his question, wondering where she should begin, how much to tell him and what exactly she should reveal to him. She didn't want to throw him in the deep end and overwhelm him even further, knowing that he probably already had a pretty heavy load on his plate, but at the same time, Y/N also felt like telling him the truth.

To help him figure it out, she used her left hand to hold his, placing the identical bands on their ring fingers right before his eyes. The action caused him to raise his gaze to look down at their hands, noticing the band of silver glinting under the clinical lightning, then darted to met her eye, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"No way! I hit the jackpot!" he exclaimed loudly, making Y/N jump a little bit at his sudden exclamation. "I'm married?! To you?!"

A laugh tumbled past her lips, the first one he'd ever heard leave her lips. "You sure are," she smiled widely at him and he returned her expression, laughing in turn. He looked at her with such adoration, his face softening even more, that Y/N couldn't help but beam at him like she always used to whenever he said such a thing.

"Do we have kids?"

Of course that would be high on his list of questions.

"No. Not yet. We were trying."

Honestly, he still couldn't get his head wrapped around the fact that this was his wife! And she was willing to have a family with him! But then again, there were quite a few things that he'd been told about his life that he didn't quite believe. Like, he was in the Navy? He hadn't witnessed much of his personality yet but he knew enough to think, 'Huh, wouldn't have expected that.'

"Trying? How hard?" He couldn't help the smug look on his face as he spoke, a mischievous grin on his lips as well. Y/N rolled her eyes and playfully smacked him in the hand, causing him to chuckle softly.

"Oh my god," she groaned with amusement "You're incorrigible."

Hangman snickered softly from where he stood near the doorway, watching everything unfold, and caught Bob's eye. Y/N followed his gaze and let out a sigh, mumbling, "Hangman, stop being a creep and get in here already."

Jake slowly approached them with a questioning look written across his features, unsure of how he should proceed. Y/N noticed and introduced them, "This is Jake. Despite his face and personality, he's actually a nice guy to be around sometimes."

"Aw Bambi, I didn't know you thought so highly of me!" Hangman teased.

"Bambi?" Bob echoed, staring at Y/N, dumbfounded. "I thought your name was Y/N?"

She huffed out a laugh and brushed comfortingly down his arm. "It's my callsign," she explained and took a breath. "Apparently, I have eyes like an innocent baby deer."

"That's not why and you know it."

"Hangman!" She gave him an incredulous stare but eventually conceded. The truth was that "I, uh, -"

"You fucked her so hard that she couldn't walk properly for three days and it looked like that bit of the movie with the ice lake."

Comically, Bob's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he turned to look at his partner, who shrugged sheepishly in return. Y/N chuckled and covered her mouth, shaking her head at Hangman who was trying his hardest to suppress his laughter, and turned back to look at Bob, who's expression was now one of complete shock and disbelief.

His cheeks were a bright red colour and he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, struggling for a response to say. He cleared his throat once and managed to get out one simple word, almost choking on it the second it left his mouth, "Whaaaaat?"

The trio kept things light as they joked around and answered all of the questions Bob could currently think of. Although she'd never want to tell him and inflate his ego, Hangman was a god sent. Everytime it seemed as if Y/N was having trouble talking, Hangman managed to put everything together and fill in any gaps with so much charm and humour that Bob didn't notice Y/N's turmoil.

All too soon, the doctor came to check on Bob's vitals. Y/N and Jake stood back and let him do his job, trying to understand all the medical jargon but failing miserably. The entire time, Jake had his arm wrapped around Y/N's shoulders and was squeezing her into his side as they watched the doctor work. And although he'd no real basis to be, Bob couldn't help but feel weird about it. There was no denying how handsome Jake was.

This charismatic Ken doll was touching his wife, admittedly in a comforting and friendly way but nevertheless, there was something there that caused Bob's jaw to clench ever so slightly. Sure, he hadn't been aware she was his wife for all that long, yet his heart knew better than his brain did at this current moment. It was as if, just by simply seeing the way Hangman's arms held onto Y/N, he felt some of the insecurity from his previous consciousness. He felt protective, possessive and totally needy for his woman's attention.

Maybe because she was part of him. A part that he could never forget fully because she had his heart and that was the main driving force of his existence at this moment.

"I brought you a bag full of clothes and shit, do you want to go get it from the car? Use the ensuite?" Jake asked. "You shower and I'll watch over Baby On Board? Sound good?"

"I really stink, don't I?"

"Yeah. You do. Are you gonna shower or not?"

"Yeah, okay. Jesus Jake, won't let a lady wallow in her despair for a bit, will you?"

Jingling his keys as he got them out of his pocket, Jake hovered them before her face, waiting for her to take them and leave with a teasing smile. As soon as her hand came up, he pulled them further from her grasp. "Say 'Oh Hangman, you're my best friend. Thank you for being so kind to me.' Say those words."

Then she did. She did say those exact words and she said them sincerely because they were true. She meant every single one of them. Jake wasn't expecting the sincerity in her voice. His eyes widened in shock and he gave the keys over, trying to hide how touched he was as he choked out, "There we go, kid."

When the doctor finally left, Jake approached Bob's bedside again. "You got a lot of broken bones, dude. Did you break your dick?" Hangman teased and grinned when Bob gave him an exasperated look.

"Broke almost everything but my hands, my neck...and my dick."

"That's rough, man." He patted him sympathetically on the shoulder. "I think I'd be ruined if I broke my dick. That's the worst thing that can happen to a player, y'know?" Jake instinctively added, "Don't tell Roo that I said that."

Obviously, Bob's next question was, "Who's Roo?"

"Sorry! You're so much like you that I forgot about the whole memory thingamabob. Roo is Rooster, also known as the number one moustache wearer, handsome heartthrob, and all-around annoying boyfriend to this guy." Jake pointed to himself. "Real name: Bradley Winifred Bradshaw."

"Winifred?"

"Nah, I'm just messing with you. It's Peter, but you believed me, didn't you?"

The two men shared a laugh as they continued joking around. Although Bob was enjoying himself, he made a mental note of all the things Hangman had said to check the validity with Y/N later. And as if on cue, her laugh soon filled through the door frame, along with the sight of a new man walking by her side.

Hangman was speedy to announce, "Fanboy! Took you long enough!" He then turned his head to the side and winked at Bob, giving him a playful nudge and smirk. Jake leaned closer to Bob to loudly whisper, "Me, you and Mickey had a very erotic threesome back in twenty-nineteen. It was strangely tender."

"That's not true," Mickey called out playfully as he walked over towards his friends. He shot a glance towards Bob and smirked in amusement, teasingly adding, "I've been trying to get in your pants for so long now, but no, you're too busy in your loving relationship with your hot wife to see anyone else. It's tragic really."

Y/N slapped both Mickey and Jake on the back of the head as she passed them by. "Take it easy on him, would ya?" She muttered, shooting them an amused grin as she moved to fix Bob's hair. "How are you feeling, lovely?" Her warm touch and loving tone made Bob relax as his body slumped against the pillow. He smiled up at her.

"Better than when I woke."

Earlier, the doctor had been pleasantly surprised that he was mentally doing okay. Other than the loss of memory, he wasn't experiencing any lack of motor or social issues so far. Admittedly, he couldn't move most of his body because it was broken but the parts that were working were one hundred percent working.

"Do you mind if I take a shower and leave you with Hangman for five minutes longer?" Y/N whispered to her husband, holding onto his hand and playing with it lightly like she always did.

"Yeah, yeah. Go for it." Bob nodded, so Y/N stepped away from his bedside. Some part of him was waiting for something, some extra bit of affection that never came.

"I'll be so quick."

Mickey jumped at the chance to help Hangman mess with Bob as much as possible. Despite the situation, it was how the group showed their love and care to each other. No matter what, everyone tried their hardest to make the other person feel better through laughter. And that was exactly what he needed right now.

Off in the ensuite, Y/N sighed heavily and rested back against the doorframe as she closed her eyes. Everything was fine. Bob was alive, that's the main headline of the day. The surgery went well and his injuries weren't life threatening anymore. But even though everything was looking hopeful, Y/N still couldn't shake the fear that Bob might not recover completely. Her Bob, her husband may never remember the big moments of their life - their wedding, how they first met, their first date, when they bought a house together and all that - those might be gone forever and that's a hard truth to accept.

Robert Floyd, the man she loves, may never truly return to her.

Out there was the shell of him. A nice, kind, funny shell that she felt bad about naming him as such. She knew her thinking wasn't ideal and she couldn't stand herself for it. She hated herself for thinking of herself and her feelings right now. Shit, he literally fell out of the plane and got severe head trauma, and she was worrying about whether he'd ever remember that he won her a huge sloth teddy at the fair on their second date.

How self absorbed could a person be? She pushed off the door and got around to what she'd actually been planning to do - showering. It's a blessing that a shower is wet, you know? You can claim that all the moisture is due to the shower, rather than crying your eyes out while scrubbing a layer of grime off and feeling like a total loser who doesn't know how to function. However, the puffiness of a good crying sesh is rather noticeable. Jake hadn't brought her make up or eye cream or sliced cucumber, so it was rather obvious that she has shed tears recently as Y/N joined the boys.

As sweet as ever, Bob was quick to ask if she was okay and when her reply didn't convince him in the slightest, he announced, "I'm getting really tired. Do you guys mind if..." His voice trailed off suggestively. Fanboy and Hangman got the hint instantly and muttered about going to check on Phoenix.

"Y/N?" He asked softly, watching as she slowly lowered herself onto the chair by his bedside.

"Sorry, sorry, did you want me to go too? I'll just...leave."

Quickly, she stood up, ready to walk past him and give him the peace and quiet he so needed.

"No, stay. Please."

She froze where she was, her body slowly turning around to face him. He stared intensely at her, eyes burning through her with every second until she could feel herself breaking. She took a few tentative steps back towards the chair beside his bed, her hand coming to rest on the edge of the mattress as she tried to keep herself grounded, her heart pounding and the need to hide somewhere far, far away appearing in an instant.

Bob watched her warily, waiting for her reaction as he saw the sudden change in her demeanour. He looked down at her shaking hand resting atop the mattress and gently inched his fingers closer to hers until his pinkie finger touched hers.

"I'm on so many drugs right now," he blurted out suddenly. And thanks to the abruptness of that statement, she let out a chuckle which quickly turned into full on laughter that he joined in on. After that, their laughs slowly faded away, leaving them staring into each other's eyes as the silence settled between them. Neither of them uttered a word.

They simply held each other's gaze, taking in their individual features, their eyes searching for something within. "Can you tell me about how we met? How we got together?" Bob asked, yet his request seemed to be met with reluctance, as her smile disappeared from her face and her eyes shot to the floor for a brief moment before returning to his own once again. "Please?"

It's not that she didn't want to tell him how they met. The story wasn't outlandish or crude or anything bad. It's just a little weird to have to tell your husband something he was there for. "Yeah, of course." Y/N spoke softly as she squeezed her husband's hand, her thumb tracing soothing circles over the back of it. "The Academy holds summer school for juniors who are thinking of going there once they graduate..."

Next Chapter: Like Beavers

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Gluttony - Beelzebub

~SFW Alphabet~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

🍔 An affectionate bean, not so much as his twin (who is borderline a koala). Beel enjoys physical touch, lots of hugs, holding hands and being there for people to lean on is some of his favourite shows of affection. He loves holding your hand in public whenever the two of you go out, it started just so you wouldn’t get separated. Plus it gives him a reason to hold your hand (he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity). He finds physical touch to be very endearing and feels that it conveys his deep sense of sincerity when he can’t express it in words. Beel also loves when you sit between his legs or on his lap so he can wrap his arms around you from behind while holding you close. He’s always comforted by your presence, even more so when you’re in his arms. His hugs and size are equally comforting to you because you don’t think you’ve ever felt something quite as safe as when you’re with Beel. 

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

🍔 Beel is the type of friend who is always ready, eager and willing to help. With everything and anything. Whether it’s disposing of a dead body, hiding a broken antique or going to a doctor's appointment that you were too afraid to go alone to. He is always supportive and honest, sometimes to a fault which you’ve warned him against. Telling him if he acts so kind someone will take advantage of him. He loves going on culinary adventures, hunting around for any and every new or limited edition food to try. If you’re more in the mood to stay home, Beel will suggest cooking together and staying in. Absolutely adores when you cook human world food for him. He’ll gladly eat anything you make for him with great fervor. He's not the best at giving advice, mostly because he doesn’t believe himself to be eloquent enough to offer insightful advice but he’ll comfort you with his kindness and offer what he can.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle) 

🍔 He loves cuddles, not as much as food, but it makes him feel just as warm and full in his heart. You’re warm, comforting, calming and smell nice- Beel has to snap himself out of it, but you really do smell good. Not in the food sense- just in a way that’s noticeable to him. Although Beel does worry about his strength and has a slight fear over how strong he is and how fragile humans are. It took a lot of convincing before Beel was confident enough to not treat you like a piece of glass. Beel’s mind is really busy most of the time with thoughts he keeps buried, and it can make him feel uneasy inside so he stress eats, which is honestly pretty difficult to differentiate from his normal eating. Being in your arms (he enjoys being the little spoon sometimes) or having you wrapped up in his arms provides such a profound peace and lays unnecessary thoughts to rest. He snuggles into you, his arms tighten ever so slightly as if silently crying to never let you go. He does check in and make sure it’s not too tight because he worries about squishing you, he knows he’s a big boi. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) 

🍔 5/10 Beel is a little better compared to his brothers, he actively cooks and cleans. Although most of his meals never really make it past the journey from kitchen to dining table. Most, if not all of the time he tries to clean but the kitchen gets dirtier and dirtier because for every one dish he washes, he uses another 3 when making a ‘light snack.’ That’s also accounting for the dishes that actually survive, not accidentally getting devoured in his voracious eating. House husband potential aside- Beel never thought that far into the future. He’s happy with the present and knows that he wants to spend as much time as he can with you. Beyond that simple desire he never gave too much thought to marriage or the like, he is connected to your soul and a ring wouldn’t change that. However after hearing about wedding cake and the menu’s… well he’s interested for a different reason. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

🍔 He’s the type to buy a break up cake. He truly didn’t know how else to do it. You came home to the most sheepish and anxious looking Beel, skittling with hyperactivity. You’re obviously concerned, confused more so and suddenly he’s presenting you with a large box. You could practically smell the sugar and butter icing. A cake box- you even recognise the bakery because it’s one that Beel frequents and you dare say that he’s their best customer. You chuckle about the sudden surprise cake- not after you open the box and take a peek at the cake. A gaudy icing job that spells out “It’s not you, it’s me” It’s so poorly written in icing you really wonder if whoever was in charge of decorating could actually take this cake seriously. Above the icing, written on the lid of the box is a note from the bakery - “We’re breaking up.” It was just so…bad, it was comedic. You felt an internal laugh tugging at your insides especially when you saw those little nibbles in the corner of the cake and the remnant icing on Beels mouth. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married.)

🍔 It’s not that he didn't see the appeal of marriage, it’s more along the lines of not understanding it. Demons and angels all know about it- but it’s not something they themselves practice. Beel is wholly committed to you, and you were one of the people closest to him. You were bound by your very souls so it’s understandably hard to see how marriage could have been an upgrade from that. Simeon explained the significance of ceremony and meaning in the idea behind marriage, Beel could see it after learning more about it. If it’s with you he wants it then, besides seeing you wearing a physical reminder of a bond, a ring appeals to him. You went further to explain some of the different traditions and ceremonies that were present in the human world and the different meaning each of those ceremonies could hold to the couple being married. All of a sudden Beel seemed mildly obsessed with the idea of getting married and kept proposing to you on a daily basis (It was so cute) 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

🍔 Probably the most gentle of the whole lot. You can accredit that to how self aware Beel is. Physically he understands just how strong he is, and that he’s big, bigger than most demons in fact and that is just proven when he stands next to you. The difference is highlighted strongly against humans, and he’s always been told about just how fragile and easily broken humans are. He’s overly aware of this, treats you with tenderness and his actions that show how much he treasures you. Emotionally speaking- he’s very soft and usually will do whatever you want. He’s easily agreeable and willing to compromise, he’s a soft boi in general but further than that if it’s for you or Belphie. The only time he’s less than agreeable and grouchy is when Beel is hangry. The hanger is real and he always apologizes if he says something untoward when hungry, but you’ve seen the snickers ads and know it’s not his fault. He’ll usually want to make it up to you though. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

🍔 A serial glomper, he gives those all encompassing hugs. Gentle with his glomps towards you though because there was ONE situation when he properly glomped you and you got injured and never again... He was just so excited to see you again that he realized that you’re just a little hooman who got absolutely demolished when his hulking mass knocked into you. He’ll run to you with all the enthusiasm before putting the brakes on and picking you up with a snuggly hug in the softest manner feeling like you were hugged by a teddy bear. His hugs feel so safe and they always make you feel better or pick the mood up when you need it. Sometimes Beel will go out of his way to find you just to give you hugs, if he walks past you he may be compelled to pull you into a hug and very reluctant to let go. It’s not surprising if he walks up behind you and hugs you from behind and leans his chin on your head when he needs a quick recharge. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-Word) 

🍔 His ‘I love you’ comes in the form of something else. He’ll say the words but doesn't know if their simplicity will really explain the depth of his feelings. So he’ll compare it to his favorite food. That’s the most meaningful thing he could do and you know that too, when he makes his little imaginary ranking lists of his favorite foods and you’re placed in that snug spot at 1st place, without even second guessing. To you it makes sense, to Beel it makes sense but to an outsider it would just sound like you are his favourite food which can be concerning out of context conversation. He’s very sincere when he says it, he’ll mean it when he compares you to his favourites and how you make him feel as happy and fulfilled. Beel is all nervous and shy when he says it, soon after the first instance his initial comparison to food changes to everything he loves about you and why. How he thinks everything about you is so precious and lovable that it’s impossible not to love you. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) 

🍔 More easy going than his brothers and doesn’t get jealous easily. He still can get jealous though, especially if you went ahead and blatantly ignored him while giving all your time to someone else. It takes a great deal for him to actually get jealous and on the very rare occasion when he’s gotten to that point. You will definitely know about it. It shows with him being much more clingy than usual and sulking a lot, he doesn’t want to let you go and he’ll make his presence known. Has the tendency to follow you around like he’s a duckling waddling after their mom. Beel may actually cry if you keep it up. “Please don’t ignore me…” he’ll say softly and hold onto your clothes because he’s just so sad. You vow to never make him jealous even unintentionally because more than anything he gets really sad that you’re gonna leave him. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

🍔 Talk about a real learning curve, Beel’s kisses are intense. Listen, food is literally his greatest joy, but his gluttony does not apply only to food. He is innately a great kisser but at first they were really sloppy and overpowering. He hadn’t kissed before meeting you, and you were his first so you were understanding that he didn’t know the ins and outs. When Beel heard about kisses having a taste he didn’t believe it, until he kissed you and realized people really weren’t kidding. Your kisses were amazing, like some of the finest Demonus. One kiss, two kisses, three kisses, a little bit of tongue and little nibbles. It kept going until you actually needed a break to breathe, he pouted, leaning in closer and asking for more. It took some time to teach him the concept of a peck, a little kiss that actually required restraint on his part. He compared it to a sweet treat like a macaroon and you just went along with his unusual explanation. 

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

🍔 In a word: Nervous. He doesn’t really know how to handle himself around kids and it makes him more anxious than anything. He’s concerned about scaring them or somehow messing up. Beel doesn’t give himself enough credit because his personality makes him easy to like, even by little ones. Once they look past the intimidation of his daunting stature, the kids just absolutely adore him. Beel is so chill that even when there are half a dozen kids using him as a jungle gym he doesn’t mind. He’ll happily carry them, give them piggy back rides, swing them around and toss them in the air before catching them again. He’s a natural at entertaining them and has the energy for it. He is one of the youngest brothers and he has good ideas of older brothers that have set a good example for him. Something awakens in him and he becomes a full on big brother towards the kids. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

🍔 Beel is a morning person believe it or not, and a very good one. He’s pleasant, not the grumpy kind. He gets up easily and is just raring to go and fresh after a good sleep- almost enviable honestly. You don’t understand how someone could possibly be that energetic in the mornings especially after just waking up. Plus you discovered that Beel rarely makes use of the snooze function on his alarms. He’s always bursting with energy in the mornings and he uses it to work out, he’ll practically skip to his morning workout and then have a very hearty breakfast to follow. He always says that eating after a workout makes the food taste so much better. Plus he likes being the first one awake so he can wake you up nicely and even be the first to greet you.  Beel also tried to encourage you to join him for morning workouts (not his routine because he knows very few people can keep up with him) 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

🍔 He has a pretty set routine for the night, the only real variation is for special occasions or studying. He does a workout- which definitely is not as intense as his morning routine and oddly enough you’re surprised to see he does quite a bit of stretching and yoga. Beel is flexible (beyond what you expected) Makes sense somehow, he likes settling down and relaxing from the day. Maybe hunting for a late night snack, preferably something easy or else Beel would be trying to cook full on meals at midnight. Once he caught you making chocolate pudding at 2 in the morning and you're by default his accomplice now. You also introduced Beel to human world cooking shows and food corn which was a slippery slope because it makes him hungrier and eager to try things. So most nights are spent watching things with Beel and making notes of what recipes he wants to try next. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while and reveal things slowly?)

🍔 For the most part Beel is very open about himself, if you ask he’ll always answer honestly. The only things he kept back was his insecurity, his thoughts of guilt and the things that scare him. He didn’t want to burden you with them, he didn’t want to feel weak when talking about it, he knew he was worried that you would see him as weak if he told you his thoughts. Beel had moments when he realized you wouldn’t think badly of him and expressed his vulnerabilities, he’d tell you how terrified he is about the idea of losing you and how it’s kept him up at night. How afraid he is of getting in a situation that he has no control over and being too weak to protect what matters most to him and getting swept away in the chaos of it all. You comfort him when those things get too overwhelming and it’s established a lot of trust between the two of you, knowing that he can confide in you. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

🍔 Much like Belphie it’s dependent on the situation. Normally anger is the last thing you’d associate with Beel, he’s one of the most gentle and slowest to anger people you know. So long as he’s satiated of course. It’s a very different story when he’s hungry or if someone messes with his meal. Then he pops his top faster than you can tell him to stay. Aside from that Beel is overall quite the happy little sunflower, he’s content and it’s a true rarity at seeing him angry. You’ve seen it a handful of times, most of which was when Mammon decided to ignore the notes on the pudding cups, or that box of deserts that clearly said FOR BEEL. After a long hard day at RAD, helping out and a lengthy workout, Beel was so looking forward to his little demon cakes and to his absolute horror they were gone. It’s a distinct memory because you really nearly prepared for Mammon’s funeral. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or they kind of or forget everything?) 

🍔 Memory of an elephant when it comes to you, he remembers everything you like. Of course the majority of that knowledge is food related but it’s because that comprises most of the gifts he gives you PLUS he’s quite the expert of Devildom food and he’s just making sure you get to taste a little bit of everything. Other things, more abstract things like songs and movies take him a little while longer to remember and if by chance Beel does forget, he gets just as excited to learn about it all over again. You are one of the most important and treasured people to him, he’d gladly try to learn everything about you so he can surprise you with gifts and stuff! Beel’s love language is very much show through gifts of food and acts of service. You find it adorable just how much Beel lights up whenever he learns about a new favourite thing of yours and asks so many questions about it because he’s genuinely invested. 

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

🍔 One of his favourite memories is when you took him to the human world for the very first time. Beel did have a few outings here and there prior but it was different and it wasn’t with you. He means the first time YOU took him and guided him around. Surprising him with things you just knew Beel would love. It’s a hard contender because he has so many moments and memories but he enjoys this one because he truly loved just seeing how excited you were to spend this time with him. How you went out of your way for his sake, how well you knew Beel enough to take him around and show him things even he didn’t realize he would enjoy. Plus he got to spend the whole day with you and you alone. He didn’t have to share your attention with his brothers and it felt so special being your sole point of attention for the day. (Plus you spoiled him a lot so he felt taken care of and pampered) 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

🍔 He is very protective of you. Maybe it’s because Beel knows what loss feels like, losing his sister was something that he has never recovered from and he refuses to allow it to happen again. He is protective over his family and you. He’s the first person to shield you from anything that may seek to harm you- no matter what it is. Beel believes his strength is there to protect, whether in the way of shielding you from harm, those which are tangible and physical threats or quietly supporting you and trying to squash out hurting things. He is always protecting you. Beel lives with the mindset that it’s his role to protect others and never expects others to protect him (Of course his brothers will always protect him, but he never wants to be the one protected). So when he sees you protecting him, so fiercely- even to the point of going head to head with Diavolo it really shakes him to the core. He’s strong enough, certainly big enough to withstand most things. So why are you, a human, arguably the most fragile existence in the three realms so quick to throw yourself in harm's way for his sake? 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

🍔 Puts effort into everything in his own way. In everyday life he always tries his best for you and is willing to drop everything if you need him. Whether you need comfort or help with a mundane task, he’ll gladly do it. In fact he likes having you depend on him. Other things he does on a daily basis just because he wants to: Opening doors, carrying your things, bringing you food or snacks in case you haven't eaten for a while (2 hours is long time to go without food according to Beel) Things like gifts, he always gets things you like, or things he believes you will like. Anything he feels reminds him of you, anniversaries are written on a calendar, he makes sure to ask Belphie to remind him and they’ll be off plotting and scheming in secret while he’s planning something for you. Beel certainly is not as flashy as some of his brothers but he is caring and sincere and you know it’s genuine.  

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

🍔 His insecurity- having insecurities is normal and everyone has them. But the reason why it’s a bad habit is because of the self deprecation that comes with it. You as his partner cannot stand watching how he berates and undermines himself with some of the most vicious conversations he has inside himself. How he calls himself useless and weak, saying that he’s not good enough and doesn’t deserve the happiness he has. How he doesn’t deserve you or his brothers. It’s frustrating to see how he picks himself apart so destructively without care for himself. He hides it behind a smile, pretending that it’s fine, but it’s a heavy burden to carry. You’ve gotten into the habit of making him compliment himself, as well as trying ground Beel and pull him out of his head and away from those nasty thoughts. All those bad conversations he has with himself you always remind him, he doesn’t deserve the things he’s saying to himself. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) 

🍔 Not on the front line of his priorities but he does like looking (and feeling) good. He workouts a lot and he would be lying if he didn’t want those results to show and be recognised for the effort he puts into himself. Beel is admittedly not the most savvy when it comes to fashion and partially uses it as an excuse to spend time with you or his brothers when he needs to get more clothes. Most of his outfits are uncoordinated but with some help, mostly from Asmo and Mammon, he really shines. They’ve even gone as far as making matching outfits for him which they keep altogether so when Beel is getting ready he can just pull out a ready set outfit. He could definitely be a little more caring to the smaller aspects like his hands and nails. All the weight lifting leaves a lot of calluses and a rough feeling to his hands and it can damage his nail beds according to Asmo who practically has a little fit whenever he’s touching up Beel’s nail polish (which honestly doesn’t last). Although the absolute breaking point for Asmo- the thing that really made him cry… is the fact that Beel has one of those 3-1 shampoo, conditioner, shower gel combos and that's all he uses. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

🍔 He feels full when he’s around you- stomach and heart. He feels fulfilled. If you just weren’t around anymore- for whatever reason, he’d feel empty and hungry. Not just in the needing sustenance aspect but he would genuinely feel sad without you around and eat more trying to fill the gap left behind. It never really works though. You’re a loving presence, a safe space, one of warmth and security. If anyone had to lose that there’s no doubt they’d feel lost and Beel is no exception. He’s a bleeding heart, he really would feel so lost without you around and the very thought of it just makes him so sad that if he starts snuggling into you all teary eyed and pouty- you’d just know he was thinking of something sad again. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

🍔 Unintentionally a personal trainer. He didn’t choose it- he just would offer advice to other demons at the gym when he was working out and became a bit of an idol for the lot of them, causing Beel to get a following of gym goers. He really loves working out, it helps him with his goal of feeling stronger, empowers his hunger and makes the food taste even better. Plus it’s therapeutic to him, it’s time he has set aside from himself- he focuses on his breath, counting, his sets and reps while listening to music. The control and quality of each one while reasonably pushing himself and making each rep better. It helps him to get his mind off of things for a little while. Others noticed how perfect his form always looked, which is partially the reason why some sought advice from Beel who was more than happy to help them out. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

🍔 More of a mild dislike but he doesn’t get how people can be picky with their food- he wouldn’t get angry or upset (in fact it’s a win because he’ll just eat whatever you don’t) it’s more along the lines of just not understanding it. One thing that annoys the hell of him though- people who waste food. Wasting food is something that genuinely annoys him. Beel doesn’t see the reason or the need to throw away something perfectly good or edible. Other things that Beel doesn’t like in people, are those who lie to him. Being lied to makes him feel very insecure and afraid when he has to spend all of his time trying to decipher what is actually the truth and what is another falsehood. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) 

🍔 He’s the type that NEEDS something to hold while he’s sleeping. A pillow- a blanket, a stuffed animal, a you. Just something- he can’t sleep if he doesn’t have something to snuggle into. If you lay next to him, he will instantly koala. Wrapping his arms around and cuddling into you with the most serene expression on his face. It’s really precious to see how peaceful and happy he looks. Beels worries because if he falls asleep and he worries about accidentally being too rough when he pulls you close and hurts you. :( It’s never happened and you constantly reassure him that he’s as gentle as ever even in his sleep. Another sleep habit is nibbling- you’ve seen him do it sometimes to whatever he’s holding. He’ll just nibble on it, probably dreaming of eating. He’s done it to you as well, earlobes, your neck, even your hair. You’ll just feel a soft and inconsistent nibbing while he’s fast asleep. 

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

[semperama]

Daniel getting injured in ex-husbands with benefits universe… 👀

This takes place before the divorce. A little bit of a peek into how things might have started to fall apart. Sorry in advance for the angst. <3

It's dumb and petty, but Daniel's pissed at Max for the rest of the weekend.

Max couldn't have done anything. He wasn't realistically going to park his car, jump out, and run to Daniel over something as small as a broken hand. Or even something much bigger than a broken hand. They had this conversation before they got married, about whether they were both okay with the reality of being married to someone with such a dangerous job. It's one thing to take your life in your own hands daily; it's another thing to watch someone you love do it. But they both laughed it off. Of course it'd be fine.

But now Daniel's sitting with his arm in a sling, watching Max win his 6 millionth race in a row, and it's just--he's tired. He's tired of all of it. He wants someone who will jump out of their car and run to him. He doesn't think Max will ever be that person.

"I wanted to bring this one home for Daniel," Max says in his post-race interview, to cheers from the crowd. "We of course hope he will recover soon, but it was important to me to win this one for him."

Daniel knows the cameras will pan to him, so he makes himself smile, hoping he looks the part of the proud husband.

After the race they ride to the airport in silence, Daniel resting his head wearing against the window. Either Max doesn't notice anything is wrong, or he's content to let Daniel wallow in it for now, because he doesn't even attempt to drag Daniel into a conversation about the race or reassure him for the hundredth time that he'll be racing again in no time. He's been oblivious to Daniel's bad mood, for the most part. Too busy, probably. Too focused on racing. Daniel wishes he'd just...reach out. Pull Daniel's head into his lap. Kiss him. But then again, if he tried, Daniel would only push him away. The distance between them feels too big, too impossible.

He makes it about ten minutes into the flight home before he says, "I think I might retire."

Max's head whips toward him so fast, Daniel would laugh if he wasn't feeling so shitty. "What?" Max says. "Don't be stupid. Your hand will be fine."

"It's not about my hand," Daniel says, his anger rising quickly, so he has to swallow hard against it. Why can't Max just understand for once? "I'm just tired of being kicked around by this stupid fucking sport."

"Kicked around?" Max's whole body is tense. "Things have been good, though. I thought you were happy?"

"I was." He was. But now... It can all change too fast. He hates that feeling, of not being in control of any of it. "It'd work out for the best, I think. I've had a long career, and I could be, like, more supportive of you, if--"

"You know I don't care about that," Max says, and yeah, Daniel knows that's true. Despite what he said to the whole world after the race, Max doesn't race for anyone but himself. He's never cared about fans or admiration. Not even Daniel's. And maybe that part hurts too.

"If I do it, will you be okay with it?" Daniel asks, because ultimately this isn't a discussion. It's Daniel's decision to make. "I'm not saying right now. I'll get better and try to finish out the season. Maybe I'll even change my mind and do one more after that. But will you be okay with it?"

Max looks away for a second, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Daniel can see him visibly getting control of himself. It's--fuck, even when he's angry at him, Daniel still loves him so fucking much.

"Of course it is whatever you want, Daniel," Max says when he turns back to him. He reaches across the space between them and wraps his hand around Daniel's good wrist, squeezes it. "I just think you should not make any rash decisions."

"I won't," Daniel says. He turns his hand over, lets Max thread their fingers together. It feels good to touch him. The past few days are still sour in Daniel's mouth, but some of the tension eases when Max brushes his thumb along the length of Daniel's, then brings their combined hands up to his mouth and kisses the base of Daniel's thumb.

"Good," Max says. Then, "I love you."

"I love you too," Daniel says on a sigh. It wasn't so long ago he thought those words could fix anything. Now, he's not so sure.

[kkskdeaddove]

KakaSaku Dead Dove Week Wrap-Up!

We had 16 stunning and deliciously dark written submissions for the inaugural KakaSaku Dead Dove week and 2 breathtaking, mind-altering art submissions.

Please read the tags before checking out the full works. If something is going to make you uncomfortable, don't read it. You are responsible for curating your own fanfiction experience!

Thank you to everyone who participated, encouraged, commented, read, kudosed, and cheered on our amazing creators! Looking forward to future kksk dd events 🖤

Without further ado, here is the wrap-up!

appreciation by Anonymous 

The one where the Land of Waves arc goes badly, but Momochi Zabuza's soft-spot for child-tools doesn't stop him from doing what has to be done.

The Hatake Heir by BelleDayNight

As the sole heir of the Hatake clan, Kakashi has known since he was five years old that he would marry the daughter of the Harunos. Sakura on the other hand is blissfully unaware that the man that will one day be her sensei is in fact her betrothed. There's a reason no man asks Sakura out on a date-- her husband has been quietly scaring them off for years...

Not a Love Like Mine, a Ruin by stargliders

Their captor hummed in contemplation. "This is my show, and whatever I say goes. I think I’ll start by shutting that smart mouth of yours for good." Kakashi closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. "Take me instead." "But you…you can’t," Sakura said. The words she desperately wanted to tell him refused to come out. (I love you. Please, don’t die.)

take me down (won't you take me down) by xylazine

In a moment of reckless bravery, Sakura volunteers to be taken by none other than the demon of Konoha. Little does she realize how much she's in for.

Please, Please, Please (Let Me Get What I Want) by twofortea

Kakashi-sensei looked so different when he was sleeping.

Consequences by gremlint

Kakashi fucked around, and now he's going to find out. Or: the consequences of neglecting a brat's aftercare.

Hold On Tight by Typhlobasia

Konoha’s Official Exam for Head Interrogators, part two: required practical section, Combined Test of Shinobi Mental Perseverance. This is something Sakura knows she wants to pass for her team; she can persevere, can earn her title, do her part protecting the village, make Lady Tsunade proud for all the efforts she invested into her student over the years… But, seeing her moon-lit reflection in the hitai-ate on Kakashi’s forehead, her friend and former sensei towering over her as she is strapped into the interrogation chair, Sakura’s old fears slither their way back in. “So, Sakura…” Her eyes snap to his, hopeful. Pleading. Kakashi takes a small step forward on the stone floor, the sound of it sharp and echoing in the dim room, “shall we begin?”

Wolf in Scarecrow's Clothing by Fusionblitz28

In which Yamanaka Ino doesn't protect Sakura from bullies and becomes her first friend. Nor does Sakura obsessively crush over Uchiha Sasuke. Rather, her ANBU in shining armor and crush are one in the same person. Eventually the polish fades to reveal something rather unlike its original condition. Maybe it's always been that way and Sakura was too naive to see it sooner. OR; Sakura falls in love at five years old. With none other than one Hatake Kakashi. Kakashi exploits that.

La Petite Mort by rosebrided

“I love you, Sakura,” he whispers like she can hear him even now, the words coming out in a wisp of a breath. And then he adds, “Forgive me.” - In which Sakura is gone from this life, and Kakashi struggles to cope after discovering her body.

That Shattered Soul by twofortea

The bright green of her eyes had dulled, her expression made vacant. She was like a broken doll, a preview of what Sasori planned to turn her into.

cat nap by xylazine 

Curled around his pink kitten, Kakashi the cat slips into a rather person like dream.

breathe me by twofortea 

Every time the nightmares started up again, he found someone new to bury himself in. He lost himself in another person, another nameless face, another warm body—buried the nightmares in warmth, life, lust.

On The Brink by gremlint

Kakashi and Sakura have the unfortunate luck to be captured by some rather imaginative enemies. What they experience will change their relationship forever.

Dancing With a Ghost by stargliders

There was nothing else they could do. The talk therapy had failed. So had both rounds of electroshock. (The lightning Kakashi wielded all these years—had it made him immune? Even as Sakura watched his toes and fingers rattle against the table?) But a doctor in Kirigakure, Shizune explained, had recently invented a procedure that settled the overactive zones in the frontal lobes of the brain. Maybe, just maybe, he could be happy again.

Living-Dead by Komorebi_3

Obito Uchiha decides to send a clone to the 5 Kage summit and observe Naruto and Kakashi in the shadows after revealing information about Itachi and Sasuke. He finds himself a bit bored with the turn of events until a certain pink-haired Kunoichi strolls in confessing her love to Naruto. Everything about her reminds him of Rin and his already fragile state of mind just spirals out of control from there. Or, Obito becomes partially delusional and kidnaps Sakura for his own sick pleasure, but of course Kakashi Hatake can't let that happen so he volunteers to be taken instead.

No Good Deed by Heartensoul

Kakashi had given Sasuke so many chances to make it right—to do right by Sakura. Now, he was going to take matters into his own hands.

compulsion by xylazine

Kakashi has driven her mad with need for years until Sakura finally snaps and takes matters into her own hands.

Clone bang art by @spnfox

Captured by enemies art by @spnfox

Thank you all again! See you next time 😈😈😈

[visd3stele]

Hi I wanted to ask for a request where the reader is rhaenyra sister and she is married to harwin but loves Criston cole and when rhaenyras goes to present Joffrey to Alicent the reader is there and criston comforts the reader because of Harwin and rhaenyra affair

oh, yeaaaah! i can work with this. sorry it took so long. acting college is tough, man. but in the good, good, best way possible :)))

tw: ANGST, post natal pain, cheating, forced marriage, pregnancy, birth, lmk if there's anything to add here.

Not so strong

Y/n Strong.

The name tasted weird on your lips. Even worse in your mind. No musicality. No rhythm. It was, ironically, weak. Not like the imposing sound of Y/n Targaryen.

Not like the romantic dream of Y/n Cole. Simple, yes. Far less important than Strong. But it bear the scent of spring as you mouthed it along the jumpy steps you took along the autumnal garden. And it sounded like the clink of small, soft jewels discarded on the table from behind, a lover's hands caressing the heated, sensitive skin.

Ser Criston Cole. A knight. He made himself remarkable, a gem between the dust and rock of his family's name.

Harwin Strong. A knight. Loyal. Valuable. And most importantly the offshoot of a long line of highly regarded men.

Your father's choice has been simple, really. Your heart needed Criston Cole. Your title, House and position demanded Ser Harwin.

Viserys thought of Rhaenyra first. But as word of her affair with your uncle, Daemon, got out, you were presented on the silver plate. The younger Targaryen princess from the King's first marriage.

A big event was needed to make people forget of the ill spoken rumors of your sister. Even though your father and Ser Strong senior much preferred Rhaenyra and Harwin together, a powerful couple, the future Queen and King consort of Westworld, all of you understood the delicate situation. A rightful marriage between an unblemished dragon princess and an honorable man of an old House would tame the spirits and give each family the benefits the sought.

The years passed. Too many. Too few. Time became a broken mill instead of a well oiled wheel. Sometimes moving faster, other times... the sun burned your skin, brain, muscles, every fiber of your soul until it descended. And the moon sang pitiful wails inspired by and dedicated to you.

Your husband: fast asleep by your side. Laying on his back, a hand beneath his head and another on his chest. Legs sprawled, making you squirm in yourself on your quarter of the bed. Making you think of Criston. And how he'd hold you close, back so far pressed into his chest you could feel his lungs grasping for air. Thumbs rubbing, even in his sleep, the skin of whichever body part they rested on – tummy, arms, neck, collarbone, breasts, calf, knee, cunt. His warm breath in the sticky, sweaty back of your neck, pleasantly cooling it off.

In the years you spent with him, you learned to be friends with Harwin. Making your duty as his wife, guilty picturing Criston in his stead. He has stopped seeing you in your chambers after your wedding. You stopped calling for him. It was the right thing to do, you both knew that. The moral thing to do. It didn't sooth the ache knowing so.

Even worse, your relationship chilled like deserted valleys, abandoned houses. A nod from the head if you gave and get passing each other around the Court and you'd think yourselves lucky.

You tried to love him. Harwin. You really did. And you thought that once you have fallen pregnant with his child, you would. But the bairn was born and your heart started to beat for her, her father forgotten. Four pregnancies later and you loved all of your children as you never knew your heart could behold. Forever growing, forever expanding the limits you imagined you had in your feelings.

But in the spot their father should have been, another man was nurtured in the same amount of love, bathed in passion and lust. Ser Cole thought your daughters how to fight in secrecy. Ser Cole made sure your son respects his elders – women included – mother and sisters. When Harwin was too busy with his two nephews, the bundle of joy born from the Realm's Delight and her husband, your cousin Laenor, Criston made sure all the other children, overseen and ignored by their fathers, grandparents and nobles, felt loved, supported, appreciated, powerful.

You have suspected your husband and your sister were having an affair from even before their first son was born. Then, the thought made your blood boil. How come they can enjoy their lives, live their hearts' desires, and you had to dance by the music played for you by unfair poets?

Later, the thought pained you. You tried and tried and tried to make your marriage work. Making yourself available, enjoyable, pleasuring your husband to your best qualities and a bit more. And it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Not your sleepless nights, not your teary eyes, not even the rage muffled in an echoless chamber. Your sacrifice, taken for granted. Your wishes, ignored, pushed aside. All the while Rhaenyra and Harwing didn't bother notice the sweat privillage they owned.

Why couldn't he try too? Make the half of a step you left vacant for him to do? At least for the kids, if not for you (your sanity, your well being, your spirit). Why do you have to be alone when he isn't expected to?

The lords and ladies noticed too. The resemblance of Rhaenyra's kids to their uncle. The cold distance between you and your husband. People talked of your children heritage as they did of your sister's. But she was the realm's delight, the king's favorite, your husband's chosen. Their kids' mistakes of being born out of wedlock could be forgiven. Yours, not. And it wasn't even the case as you never laid with Criston since your marriage and if the masses would be kind enough to look twice at your girls and son, they'd see how well the Targaryen and Strong genes mixed. How glowing the purple eyes looked behind brown strands of hair.

But your and your own's was the sufferrance. You had gotten used to it.

Or you thought you did, at least. Until the third son of your cheating husband was born to your traitorous sister. It was when you and Queen Alicent were discussing a potential marriage between your little man and her only daughter when the news reached your ears. Without a thought to spare, the young wife of the decaying King called for the baby to be brought to her. Knowing your sister, she most likely would show up herself.

The passing thought to leave turned to disgust for your own self. You have been putting up with this pain for so long in silence, it was time you made the world aware of it. Why hide, when you did nothing wrong?

But the Targaryen stubbornness paired with the dragon fire of hurt born anger cheated you this time. As the baby whimpers echoed on the hallow hall, your heart shrunk. Collapsed under the weight of yet another child your husband loved more than you own. Yet another baby born out of love in your crippled, pained, broken family, Love that was denied for you. Love that only two people in the castle could enjoy and the fate made it so it wasn't you, nor Cole.

You thought you can take it. Another pierce in your bleeding chest. But you were wrong. As soon as the door opened and the ravished form of your sister limped in, chin held high, cries of pain muffled by sheer force of will; as soon as you saw the reddened skin of the small body in her arms, hot with yells and cries, framed by Harwin's locks and eyes, you crumbled inward.

Your feet carried away away like a swift blow of wind. Unknowing of what they left behind, in the all of a sudden too crammed room. So fast you ran and so aimlessly you disheveled around the castle's grounds, you didn't even realize when you knocked into a wall.

You barely, slowly came to your senses to conclude it wasn't a wall at all. But a chest. A knight's chest, judging by the scaly metal plate you bruised your forehead into.

"Sorry," you mumbled softly. Knowing that all the tears you swallowed back would either cascade the moment you work your vocal chords, or choke you the second you open your mouth.

As you avoided looking up at the knight, or anywhere but the ground at all, his voice stopped your heart and stiffened your body the second your ears caught it.

"It's quite alright, princess. Everything is fine?"

The concern in his tone, the love still lingering there, so clearly, so close and yet out of reach. Your eyes spilled your secrets before you could nod and pass him by.

"Y/n," Criston seemed to forget about the moral code he wants to live by, forget about the position you both were in. His hand, as if it had its own mind, wrapped around you on the instant, bringing you close to his chest. His free palm rubbed your head from the crown of your hair to the nip at the back of your neck.

You cried harder. Sounds now joining the tears. Sobs so husky, so rough scratching with shar claws the walls of your burning throat. Soon, hiccups shook your body with an unusual strength and violence.

"Y/n, my life, my love, you are scaring me." Criston tried to take a step back, analyze your face. He only meant to cup your swollen, hot cheeks in his palms, wipe your tears with his thumbs, perhaps even kiss away the unnecessary heat from your forehead and upper lip. But you clung to him, to the safety and comfort of his arms, his hug - so familiar, so deeply missed - his scent - a balm to your sore soul - his voice and presence, grounding you, strengthening you even in the absence of words.

So Criston complied. He froze you both in time, covering your body with his and his own with his cloak. And you stayed there for skies knows how long. Just the two of you, tangled in the dreams and flames of your love. True affection. Pure desires.

No words were needed between you and your knight. Speaking never filled the silence for the two of you. It was but an extention of it. Of the feels and comfort. Of the tangible untouchable that is real human connection.

A long time after your tears had dried and the violent waved of sorrow and woe left your body you remained there. Criston might as well have fallen asleep, such still and relaxed he was. But he was awake. very much so. Catching every spasm of your quietening form, every ragged breath turning normal again, every vibrating fibre reminding him of your neverending love. And he secured them in the treasure chest of his mind.

"Harwin and Rhaenyra had another baby."

"I've heard."

"I've seen him."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't think I am anymore. Just tired."

"Your kids are advancing quickly in their lessons. And they excell in everything they put their mind to do. So their teacher praise."

"Our kids," you whispered and he understood. He has been more a father for them than their actual one. And if not for the ugly fangs of the Court, they'd call him father too.

"Thank you." For loving him, for gifting him this immense honor: your kids. For still thinking of him with the same warmth and ponding heart even after all these years.

"Thank you," you finally looked up into those glassy black eyes. I love you, it sounded more like. And the secret of your escaped day together dissipated in the air, sealed by a certain, full kiss.

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Like imagine Odin arranging for Heimdall to have a bride, with Odin telling him that in addition to continuing another Aesir bloodline that he genuinely thinks Darling's a good choice for Heimdall. The All-Father's approval is all Heimdall really needs to accept it, even if he doesn't think ANYONE would be good enough for him.

So he's constantly being an asshole, testing Darling to see what Odin possibly sees in them. Even hurting them when he's annoyed. But eventually Odin advises him to knock that shit off a bit: "This is your betrothed and the future mother of your children, you know. Even after all that happened between me and Freya, I have love for her. You've got to learn to cherish something besides me, even if I appreciate the endless loyalty. Really, I do."

And so Heimdall tries to curb his venom. It's hard. It's infuriating. He still doesn't get why Darling is the one Odin wants him to have. But he doesn't want to disappoint the All-Father, so he decides to be better.

In his mind though, "cherish" in this instance means "keep to yourself at all costs." Darling may hate him, but he's not going to ruin what Odin has planned. So they're going to stay in his quarters and never even think of trying to escape unless they want to lose even more freedom.

His possessiveness comes at first from Odin's wish: Heimdall is meant to have Darling, and so he's going to keep them at all costs. But over time he gets less and less annoyed by them. What used to piss him off and make him want to throw them off the wall now amuses him. And their attempts to fight or run away have always been cute, in a futile pathetic kind of way. Why would they even want to run? They've been chosen by Odin himself to be HIS. The only being greater than him is the All-Father, and they're complaining about being his bride?

Having them around isn't all bad, though. After a while he starts to like it, having someone that's his and how everyone knows they belong to him.

He goes from resenting them to treating them almost like a pet or toy, and his ego won't let him give others a reason to call him a bad husband/lover. Selfish or cruel, yes. But all it takes is a few sly remarks from Thor about how despite being such a "shambling drunken oaf," he knows how to treat his wife in and out of bed--the multiple broken headboards are proof enough of that. Odin gave Heimdall such an easy job, too. How lackluster of a man do you have to be, with a wife that good looking and patient enough to deal with his golden-chapped ass, to not know how to properly take care of her? Heimdall can call Thor and Sif brutes and idiots and failures all he wants, but Odin gave him a job when he gave him a wife. Thor's kids are failures in Heimdall's eyes, but at least Thor popped a few out when the All-father said he should (and Thor never bad to be told how to cherish his wife the way Odin had to for Heimdall 👀)

This specific insult to manhood drives Heimdall up the wall, even when he knows it shouldn't matter coming from Thor of all people. Still...a fat drunken has-been is right twice a day. Even if HE can't see his wife as a treasure quite yet, Odin does. And if Odin values her enough to gift her to Heimdall, his most faithful servant, then he's going to keep her and find out what makes her so important. Well, besides being HIS, of course.

And once he actually develops some semblance of genuine attraction, it combines with his desire to please Odin, his spite for Thor, and his entitlement into something truly fucked up and obsessive. She can't ever leave because they're meant to be together, to have children as Odin said. And Heimdall's such a catch, isn't he? He managed to turn those pleas to stop and pathetic attempts to fight him off into moans and mewls that kept half the lodge up at night. He knows everything about her, inside and out, body and mind and soul. He's not someone you can escape from. After all, he's your destiny and you're his.